Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

PROLOGUE
Fall Towards Eden

Nai will never forget that day.

The sound of every alarm going off, the fleet’s navigation systems going wild. The terror in Rem’s eyes as she herded them to the escape pods. He didn’t know what to say to reassure her-- even now, he felt like with her he was stepping around broken glass, cautious and careful. Vash’s wide eyes as they buckled in.

Rem’s smile as she told him to protect his little brother, as she closed the pod and sent them off without her.

He’d expected Vash to cry. He was crying, which surprised him. Maybe he wasn’t still as mad at her as he’d thought he was. He supposed he still loved her, after all. That was a relief.

But Vash wasn’t crying.

His gaze was fixed outside the pod’s window, at the ships falling. There was--

There was a smile on his face.

“Vash?” He’d called, voice shaking with something like fear bubbling in his chest, more than he’d ever felt before. His little brother suddenly felt a thousand miles away.

His brother didn’t look at him. “Don’t be sad, Nai,” he said with too much cheer in his voice for someone watching their fleet burn up in the atmosphere of this planet. “It’s okay! Rem’s just going to Paradise. That’s good!”

“What?” 

“Paradise, silly!” His brother continued, that smile on his face. “It was in that book I borrowed from you. The Bible! Paradise!”

“When did you take my Bible?!” 

Vash didn’t seem to notice the panic in his voice, or even the question. “You always said it talked about lots of complicated stuff about humans. So I wanted to know what it said. And I’m glad I read it! It made everything make sense.”

“...did it?” Nai had asked, terrified of the answer.

“Yeah!” Vash finally looked at him. His eyes were bright, too bright, sparkling with something like madness, smile wide and completely false. 

“You know how in the book, God sent down Jesus to die for all of humanity’s sins? That was Tesla!”

Nai’s heart stopped in that moment.

“Vash, you said you didn’t remember what we saw!”

He laughed. “Oops,” he said. “I thought you’d figure that out sooner. I guess I’m better at lying than I thought. But it’s true. Tesla was like Jesus! She came, and humans didn’t understand her, so they hurt and killed her. But that doesn’t mean they’re bad, you know! God loves everyone no matter how bad they get. That’s why he sent us!”

Vash sounded so certain. So deadly, terrifyingly, happily certain of his own madness.

“We’re angels, Nai! Rem even said so herself! God sent his angels to help humans understand!"

“...avenging angels?” Nai had asked, because he’d thought of that himself at least once, when the anger still burned hot and fresh in his chest like his blood was on fire. Before he had hurt Rem. Before he’d promised her.

“No, silly,” Vash said. “That’s so like you. You’re still so mad at them. But it’s okay! We’re not avenging angels.” 

He gestured outside the pod. “We’re here to bring everyone to Paradise!”

“...Vash!” Nai had gasped, horrified as the truth sunk in. “You caused this?!”

“Uh-huh,” Vash said, almost proud in his madness. “But don’t worry. The humans are all just gonna go to Paradise. I didn’t mess with the plant ships, our sisters will be okay! They’re angels too, after all.”

“Vash, they’re not going to Paradise, they’re all going to crash and die! Rem’s going to die!”

“You’re wrong,” Vash said, and Nai realized he was so far gone in this grief-fueled, desperate delusion, he really believed it. “They’re all gonna go to Paradise. God will welcome them all in, ‘cause he loves them so much, even if they’re bad. That’s how it works! God loves all the sinners! And so do I!”

A crackling voice came through the intercom. The computer. Telling them the ships had been readjusted. He’d let out a breath of relief, for the first time since they investigated that vision, found their nightmare, glad that the humans would have a chance. “Rem…”

“Rem!” Vash had whined. “Don’t be mean! They’ve got to join you in Paradise!”

He sighed, then, shaking his head. “Well, it’s okay,” he’d said, and then smiled wider, wider, until Nai was afraid that smile would break his face in half.

“I’ll just have to take everyone there myself,” he said. 

Nai would never forget the look in Vash’s eyes when he said it. Glittering and manic, full of so much love for humanity it had run up against his grief and driven him mad beyond recognition.

Even one hundred and fifty years later, Nai would never forget Vash’s eyes that day. Never forget that smile. 

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 1
The $$60,000,000 Man

KNIVES THE REAPER: ESTIMATED AGE 24, BIRTHPLACE AND RESIDENCE UNKNOWN. SUSPECTED IN THE MURDER OF COUNT REVNANT VASQUEZ AND BELIEVED CAPABLE OF G-GRADE DAMAGE. SUSPECT STILL AT LARGE. BOUNTY-- $$60,000,000 DEAD OR ALIVE! NOTE: ARMED WITH AN UNKNOWN AMOUNT OF WEAPONS. 

RUMORS PERSIST THAT HE DOES NOT KILL. HOWEVER, THIS IS UNSUBSTANTIATED. 

Inepril was a nice town. Quiet, for once. It was rare for a town this size to be on the quiet side, and Nai appreciated that for what it was. Well-- quiet by this planet’s standards, which was still far louder than any day on Ship 5, but by now he’d gotten used to the dull roar of chaotic life that was No Man’s Land.

The bar was nice, too. Far less seedier than the last couple places he’d had to stop. There was a little boy off in the corner with his mother, but the conversation was just more background noise.

Nai sighed and took a sip of water, poking his slice of pie absently with his fork. Eating was still vaguely annoying even now, but he did have to keep up appearances if he wanted to blend in. People tended to look at you funny if you never ate or drank. The water was a little off, he’d noticed-- he’d have to ask after his sisters. If any of them weren’t feeling well, maybe he’d be able to do something. 

Of course, because his luck ever since that day a hundred and fifty years ago seemed to be hell bent on making his life terrible, the quiet didn’t last much longer than that.

The waitress’s cut off greeting was more than enough warning, and he ducked, kicking the table up between him and the oncoming hail of bullets with just enough time to avoid them. The bar itself wasn’t so lucky, as people screamed and leapt out of the way, but thankfully-- inevitably-- most of the gunfire was aimed squarely at him.

“We did it!” He heard one of them whoop. “No one coulda survived that much gunfire! Look at that table, we got him for sure!”

“I dunno, you’ve heard the stories…” Another said hesitantly.

“C’mon, why you so chicken? Let’s go get hi--”

He sheathed the knives he’d used to stop the bullets that hadn’t gone wide and stood up. Silence fell.

“Really?” He asked impatiently. “You couldn’t even let me finish eating?”

“Oh shit,” one of them said, helpfully.

“Yes,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Oh shit. This bar was nice, actually. Look what you all did. I hope you have at least a few pennies worth of a bounty enough to make up for this.”

The tiny little pack of bandits-- outlaws, bounty hunters, did it really matter?-- looked comically terrified. Good, maybe they’d just leave and he wouldn’t have to put up with this anymore.

But no, apparently one of them decided he had heatstroke, and thus would continue to be monumentally stupid.  “Maybe not, but your bounty’s big enough!” He shouted. “Now be good and die, and we might spare a couple double dollars for this place’s repair bill”

Humans, Nai had found, would continue to surprise him with just how little they really thought things through.

He flicked his wrist, and quicker than sight, his knives sliced through the air-- and before they could pull their triggers, the guns all fell to pieces in their hands, metal and bullets clattering to the ground.

Frozen silence again.

“I’m assuming you don’t want the next thing in pieces on the floor to be your hands or heads, right?” He asked, leveling them with one of his best icy glares. “And the waitresses are rather nice, I wouldn’t want to make them have to mop up all the blood. If you leave now, that won’t be a problem. Will it?”

(They didn’t have to know he had no intention of following through with that threat. His reputation made it believable enough anyway.)

They were gone in the next few seconds, and he let out a sigh, sagging slightly. Well, that was more than enough stupidity for the next week. And he’d made more of a commotion than he really wanted to.

“Wow! That was soooo cool!” The little kid from earlier had crept over, and on a whim he absently patted his head.

“I don’t know about that,” he said wryly. “They weren’t very scary.”

One of the other customers, an old man, eyed him curiously. “That was impressive, at the very least. How did you do that so precisely?”

“Trade secret,” he said simply, lifting a shoulder. “And practice."

“For all that the rumors say you’ve killed so many people, it’s a surprise you didn’t follow through.”

Another shrug. “Like I said. Didn't want to leave anyone with the mess. Bloodstains are notoriously hard to clean out of anything.”

There was laughter, but it quickly trailed off, and Nai suddenly had a very, very bad feeling that the day’s ridiculousness was only just starting.

“We’re really sorry about this,” the waitress told him, and that’s about when he realized nearly everyone in the room was holding a gun on him.

“....you can’t be serious,” he groaned.

The waitress shook her head. “We’ve all discussed this at a town meeting,” she explained, voice soft and serious as if she were genuinely contrite. “Half will go to our town’s coffers, and the other half we’ll split among everyone. We really are sorry, Mr. Knives.”

“If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t be doing this at all,” he grumbled, and took stock. They weren't clustered together, unlike the idiots from earlier, so if he used his knives in here he’d risk hurting that kid, or causing too much collateral-- so, that just meant he had to run.

He took off at a dead sprint, jumping through the window and shattering the glass, tearing through the city even as the sound of gunfire echoed across almost every surface. Seriously, they were risking destroying their own city! What could possibly be so important that an entire town would decide to try and take him in? This was starting to get farcical some days, it really was. Like his entire life had decided the past century and a half to increasingly resemble those cartoons Rem had showed them, the ones Vash had liked with the gray rabbit and obnoxious black duck.

Or maybe he was that mouse from the other cartoon, and the entire damn planet was the cat.

Seriously, how did they get grenades?!

He was so tired. 

He crashed through yet another window, wincing as his shoulder hit the floor at an angle but rolling to his feet with intent to barrel through the door and keep going, but-- 

The click of a gun and the cold press of a barrel to the small of his back made him pause. 

He sighed, watching as what seemed like half the town’s women stood from behind boxes and barrels in the storage room he’d broken into, guns all trained on him. “Really?” He asked. “This is getting a little depressing.”

“I meant it when I said we were sorry, Mr. Knives,” the waitress from the bar-- one of the women in the room-- said. “You don’t seem as bad as all the rumors…it’s hard to tell how you earned a $$60,000,000 bounty.”

“Is it?” He asked, and sighed. “Well. If a bunch of women are going to shoot me, I’m glad it’s in private. Your children shouldn’t have to see that.”

They all exchanged hesitant glances, which Nai had hoped they would-- humans could be stupid, but they were also so inherently sentimental, and sometimes appealing to that part of them worked-- but one of them, an older one, shook her head furiously.

“Don’t you think I know that?!” She shouted at him. “But I’ll do anything for my little boy! He’s sick, and the doctor won’t even come to this town anymore, let alone for money we don’t have! Our crops failed, and on top of that there’s a system bug that’s killed fifty of our plants! If we can’t call an engineer, we won’t last much longer!”

Fifty?! He stepped forward without thinking. “Listen,” he said, urgently. “Let me help, then. I can help with your plants. You won’t even need to pay me. Just let me go, and I’ll take a look at them. Please. I can help--”  

The click of their guns at his motion made him freeze, and he hissed a breath. Closing his eyes, he flicked his wrist, his knives melting out of the back of his hand. “Let me go,” he told them, low and urgent. “I understand. You’re scared, and you’re desperate. I’ve seen it so many times. But I can’t let you take me in. there’s something I still have to do, and until I find him, I can’t stop.”

He could hear their shaky breathing-- of course, they were frightened now. No human could materialize blades out of their flesh. In their eyes, he had just become a monster. “Don’t make me hurt you. I don’t want to, but I will if I have to. Just please. Get out of my way.”

Whatever they might have said next was interrupted by a rumbling, the bottles in the room starting to shake on their shelves. That…that was never a good sign, he thought, and had half a second to realize it was getting louder-- no, closer-- before tackling the nearest woman to the ground with a shout of “Get down!”

The building exploded into splinters and rubble around them, and he grunted as a slab of it nearly bounced off him. In the dusty haze, he squinted around him, trying to find whatever it was that had destroyed the place--

…was that a giant fist? This planet really was a damn cartoon sometimes.

Struck by that thought, he found the ink pen still in the waitress’s pocket, and as the fist-- attached to a rope, it seemed-- slowly began to reel itself out, he leaned over and scribbled something on it. Let it never be said that Nai didn’t have moments of whimsy, rare as they were. 

Even if ‘whimsy’ here just meant grinning sharply to himself as whoever was out there lost their mind over his scribbled taunt.

What’s up, doc? indeed.

(He’d wonder if he’d gone mad, but he didn't really need to. He’d gone mad a hundred and fifty years ago. His madness just continued to evolve in interesting directions.)

The smoke finally cleared, and he stood, the waitress in his arms to get a good look at his new opponents. Comical didn’t even begin to cover it-- the giant must be a good three times his height, with a strangely bullet shaped head, and old man currently shouting at the top of his lungs was a wild little goblin small enough to fit in the giant’s breast pocket. 

In another life, another world, Vash would have found it hilarious, Nai mused quietly, completely tuning out the old man’s ranting. 

Instead, he moved to put the waitress down, looking back at the building or a moment before moving to pull the other women from the rubble, completely ignoring the idiot babbling behind him. The least he could do was make sure they were alright. They had tried to kill him, yes, but…desperation drove everyone mad, at some point. And he’d promised. 

That promise was all he had, some days. So he’d keep it, no matter what he felt.

Once that was done, he stepped aside, leveling the old man with a cold stare. “Are you done talking?”

The old man scoffed, and the giant fired his first at him again. He could dodge it, but-- shit, he was still too close to the women. If he did-- 

Well, too late for that, he thought exasperatedly to himself as the rubble and shrapnel of his delayed decision struck him in the side and cheek, scratching it. That’d end up bruising later, too, but it could be worse.

“I guess we are,” he said instead, brushing himself off. 

“So the rumors are true!” The old man crowed. “The infamous Walking Armory really doesn’t kill, after all! How pathetic! That kind of sentiment is all just hypocrisy and you know it, boy! You’ll have to kill eventually, you know! Of course you will, and the proof enough is that you haven’t been killed yet!”

He didn’t dignify that with an answer. Of course he knew that. As much as he tried not to, his hands weren’t clean. They could never be. Especially not after…

He just sighed, and as the giant prepared for another blow, Nai lifted his arm, fingers curling into a fist, palm down and pointed directly at the man like a mocking mirror of the giant’s pose. 

“What’s he doing?!” He heard one of the townsfolk yell. “Whatever weapon’s he’s carrying, he won’t be fast enough! And no blade’s sturdy enough to block a blow that size coming that fast!”

Oh, that’s what they thought. And maybe they were right.

But his knives weren’t made by human hands. Could never be.

And with lightning flash, even as the fist came towards him, they melted out of his skin and shot forward, tendrils of inhuman metallic something whipping towards their target even as the fist came towards him faster than a bullet. A jerk of his arm to the side and they moved with it, tangling around that fist like barbed wire and jerking it off-path. The giant screamed in pain as the blades sliced through, and again as another tendril drove itself into the port, shorting out the machinery.

Quick as they cast out from them he retracted them, the smoke from the missed blow and the broken machinery enough to conceal their pathway and origin. The world didn’t need to know the truth of his power, or the extent of it. He was feared enough as it was.

Through the smoke, though, he strode forward, blue coat bright among the smoke, and hopped onto the now prone body of the giant to glare down at the old man.

“Don’t,” he said, sharp and vicious like the knives they’d nicknamed him after. “Presume that because I do not kill, I’m weak. Remember this: I choose not to take lives. That doesn’t mean I can’t. You’d better hope you’ve got a halfway decent bounty, or I’m not going to be very happy with how any of this turned out.”

That said, whatever further threat he could possibly make-- and he had a few in mind, because this day had turned out terribly and he wasn’t in the mood anymore-- was cut off by the loud whine of feedback, and a woman’s voice over a megaphone.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! STOP, STOP THE FIGHT!”

…well, she was a little late there.

After that, the woman-- there were two of them, it seemed- shimmied down from the bell tower they’d climbed onto for a better vantage and marched right over to the throng of townsfolk around where he was still standing on the giant. Their eyes were fixed on him, though, so he hopped down off him to at least be some form of civil.

Not that he necessarily wanted to be. But they had tried to stop the lunacy, so he supposed he owed it to them to hear them out. 

It turned out to be a very, very good thing he did.

“What?” He managed, just about as bewildered as the townsfolk. He couldn’t have heard that right.

“Like I said!” The young woman said. “As of yesterday, the government declared Knives the Reaper officially a localized disaster. And because of this, his bounty has been canceled. He’s like an earthquake, or a typhoon-- you can’t put a bounty on that.”

Relief hit him almost harder than that ridiculous giant’s fist. “You’re serious,” he breathed, even as the townsfolk bemoaned the lateness of the news. “Oh, finally. Maybe I’ll get some actual peace and quiet for once.”

“Not so fast,” the woman said, and whatever relief had started to flood him cut off like a tap. He groaned internally and looked over at them properly as they approached him in earnest.

Humans, just like any other, Nai noted. The girl speaking was on the smaller side, with short dark hair and a white capelet, and her companion as almost as tall as he was, if not taller, with an open smile and long dirty blonde hair. Nothing to fixate in his memory as especially important. Yet more humans to pass through his life, that was all. 

“You,” the shorter woman said. “Might be relieved now, but you are still a very big problem! Bounty or not, you still cause untold amounts of trouble wherever you go!” She offered her hand, a little business card sitting innocently in it. “Meryl Stryfe, Bernardelli Insurance Company. Good to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh, and I’m Milly Thompson!" 

The girl-- Stryfe-- nodded sagely. “We’ll be traveling with you from now on, of course, as part of our mission! Risk avoidance means round-the-clock surveillance, after all!”

“--you can’t be serious,” he managed after a moment’s shock and abject horror at the idea. “Absolutely not.”

Stryfe just smiled at him, and Nai had a feeling his immovable object was about to meet an unstoppable force. He didn’t like it.

A cry of surprise interrupted his mounting dread, and everyone spun to look over at the old man, who had wiggled out of the giant’s breast pocket with a--

A gun. He was just going to call that ‘a gun’ and try not to think too hard about how his life had led up to this. 

“This isn’t over yet!” The old man shrilled. “I won’t forgive you for how you humiliated my poor, darling son! You’ll pay for--”

And then he was very much no longer conscious, thanks to the combined effort of the tiny gun Stryfe had materialized out of her cape and the unsettlingly large concussion gun Thompson had pulled out from her coat.

“As we were saying, Mr. Knives, it’s nice to meet you!” They chirped.

…he was really going to have to work to get away from these two, wasn’t he? Ugh.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 2
And Between the Wasteland and Sky

Two weeks later, Nai was exhausted. And quite frankly, these two insurance girls were just making him even more so.

Admittedly, part of it was his fault. He’d been slipping out of the inn after dark to head to their plant facility and fix the system bug, methodically checking on all of his sisters that were still left to make sure they were in good health. They were, thankfully, but he was never the one with the real skill in connecting to them-- he could if he tried, but not as well, and it always left him drained and exhausted. 

But he couldn’t stand aside and watch his sisters in pain. Not then and not ever. If he could help them, he would.

And…he was glad he’s done so. It’s thanks to them, the tenuous connections with them he could form to help when needed, that he hadn’t just started blowing facilities up and tucking them away in safety and leaving humans for Vash to deal with. He wondered sometimes if his brother has heard them more clearly, their feelings, but would then dismiss the thought. If he had, he’d ignore it. He was too lost to listen to anyone but his own delusion.

Really. Humans were lucky the people he loves loved them so much, even if in his brother’s case it was twisted and broken.

They had no idea how much they owed Rem Saverem, and the plants that had managed to get their angry and bitter brother to stand down.

Though sometimes-- like this morning, where he was just trying to eat a couple sandwiches and nurse his migraine in peace while the insurance girls talked at him-- Nai felt a little like maybe he should start blowing things up if it meant he’d have some silence. 

“I still don’t understand why you just gave up $$700,000,” Stryfe said.

“Do I look like I carry that much money?” He said irritably. “I don’t need it.”

“Really?” Thompson asked. “That much money would be so useful…”

“For you, maybe. Anyway, you keep insisting you’re going to follow me, but is there some kind of time frame on that? Or are you just going to harass me indefinitely?”

“It’s not harassment!” Stryfe yelped indignantly. “And anyway, probably until our terms of office end? You have no idea how helpful our reports are going to be for our insurance investigations.”

He rolled his eyes. Was it his fault there was so much collateral damage whenever something inevitably happened around him? 

…sometimes, admittedly. But not enough he needed a pair of chatterbox babysitters. 

A loud horn echoed through the town, then, and Thompson leapt out to look out the window at the sand steamer that had pulled up, excitedly pointing and calling to Stryfe to look, too. Perfect timing, he thought, slipping his small bag of things from under his seat where he’d hidden it and taking off. He was all done with the plant, and his sisters had given him the go-ahead to head out-- and now that the steamer was here, it was time to ditch the tagalongs before they could even tag along.

Listening to the people at the base of the steamer selling tickets and hawking wares and bustling to get on, it sounded as if it was heading to May City. Not that he really cared where it was going; he never stayed anywhere for very long, anyway, but…a two week journey would certainly put enough distance between him and those two girls.

Humans were like the stars, to him-- best observed at a distance, where they were still beautiful, never getting up close so they could burn him with their chaos and imperfection. It was the best Rem would ever get from him. He couldn’t love them, after all. Still couldn’t forgive all these years later, even as the shame that he couldn’t clung to him like lead weights at times. 

And…if none of them got close to him, he wouldn’t prick them with his knives and send them bleeding, either. Because he knew that was all he was good for, in the end. No matter how he tried to keep his promise and stay his hand from killing, he had been called Knives by this planet for a reason.

Blood would always stain his blades, no matter if he tried not to let it.

Now, if he could just grab a third-class ticket and sleep off his migraine in peace…

“Knives! You’re leaving?!”

Oh god damn it. Why were children so loud?

“Tonis, be quiet!” He hissed at the boy, who for some reason had decided to look up to him.

“But you didn’t even say goodbye or anything! That’s mean!”

“I’m a mean person, Tonis! Now please lower your voice!”

“You’re Knives the Reaper?!” Ah. One of the crew members had unfortunately yet inevitably, heard him, it seemed. 

“No,” he deadpanned. “Definitely not. Leave me alone.”

“No, no, you are!” The bearded man said. “I recognize you from your poster! Blond hair, a blue coat…that’s you, alright!”

Why had he let Home give him such a recognizable coat, again?

“Fine,” he grumbled. “What do you want?”

“Join the convoy!” The man begged. “Please! If you were protecting the steamer, we could double our ticket prices! We’d even give you a cut!”

“Absolutely not,” he replied instantly. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to get out of here in peace.”

Of course, humans were exasperatingly desperate when money was involved, and by the time Nai managed to pry the man off him, he’d been caught up to, and between the girls and Tonis they’d forced him to sit through a farewell party. Apparently they’d caught on to the fact that he’d kept his word to the women from earlier and fixed the plants for them, which freed up that 700 grand for other repairs, and they were…very, very grateful.

It always overwhelmed him, when humans acted this way. Like they liked him. Like he’d done something good for their sakes, selflessly, instead of a selfish desire to protect his own kind that just happened to align with the humans’ own desires. Like just because he’d accepted that his sisters seemed to care about the humans they provided for meant that he wasn’t any less disillusioned by the cruelty they were still capable of. 

Like he was one of them, instead of a monster with a pretty face to hide the steel and violence and deadly power he was built of.

How could they forget? Even if he couldn’t remember what happened that night, he knew-- he knew he was wanted for suspicion of causing Lost July, and he was pretty sure they were right. That it had been him. How did they so easily dismiss that after one action that wasn’t even for them? They had been out for his head two weeks ago.

Yet at the same time, it was nights like these, sitting and being surrounded by their chaos and laughter, nursing a beer that he was barely drinking and watching them all, watching Thompson drink herself under the table while Stryfe flitted around her in concern-- 

Nights like these reminded him why he held onto his promise to Rem.

Sometimes, the chaos could actually start to feel like home.

He slipped off to bed after a while longer, shaking his head wordlessly at the women starting to follow him up-- he was uninterested in sex and always had been, and even if he’d been, he doubted any man or woman would enjoy what the years had made of his body.

Well, regardless. The steamer would leave in the morning, him on it, and this town would be just another one at his back and in his memories. And that was what it should always be.

Thankfully, it seemed like he’d managed to get onboard without his unwanted tails, and even if he had to put up with the crew member from before’s continued begging for his skills-- he really had no idea what he was asking for, did he?-- things almost seemed uneventful. Annoying to say the least, but uneventful.

At least until, when Nai had stepped away from the first class berth the crewman had shamelessly bribed him with (ineffectively) to use the restroom-- one of the unfortunate downsides to forcing himself to eat and drink like a human, and it was still unpleasant and a little gross to him-- he was nearly smacked in the head by the ceiling vent coming open above him.

He caught sight of a brunet head and reached into drag him out, the boy yelping with shock and terror and clinging to his arm. “You know, the polite thing to do when you nearly give someone a concussion is to apologize, you little stowaway,” he said flatly.

The boy froze and let go, dropping to the floor with a brief look of calculating fright before stammering a bit, clearly trying to look as pathetic as possible. “Please, sir! My parents died when I was little, and my relatives, they were just awful, my mother--”

“Stop,” he said, exasperated. “You’re lying, and we both know you're lying. I don’t even want to hear what kind of exaggerated sob story you’re trying to spin.” He crossed his arms. “Luckily for you, I also don’t care what you’re actually doing here.”

The boy sagged in surprise. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he agreed, and massaged his temples. “Look, I have a first class room. If you promise to stay quiet and leave me alone while I sleep, you can hide out in there. You can even have my meals, I don’t eat much.”

Why was he doing this again? Oh, right. His conscience, that always sounded remarkably like his adoptive mother. If only he could turn it off. If only that were so easy.

“Um,” the boy said. “Thanks.”

“Please don’t thank me,” he grumbled, turning on his heel and leaving, the boy skittering after him. 

He let the boy there while he slipped into the cafeteria for dinner-- and much to his dismay spotted the girls working at the commissary for passage, apparently, which made his day that much worse-- and brought it back to his room, handing it off to the kid while sitting down to absently sip at the now-cold coffee he’d had sitting around since lunch.

“It sure is dark out,” the boy mused, half to himself as he stared out the window in to the pitch blackness of the desert.

“Mm,” he agreed. “Too dark for anything to happen tonight.”

The boy stilled briefly, and he made note of it, before deliberately pretending not to. Interesting. “Eerie, isn’t it,” Nai mused to himself. “Too dark. This whole planet can get so dark. Sometimes I wonder why it was this one we ended up on.” Why hadn’t they been passing one with more life on it? More green? More ability to sustain life? Why had it been this dust-covered hellhole?

“Dunno,” the boy shrugged. “Been here since birth, never thought about it. But…” He tilted his head. “The way you talk, you make it sound like you weren’t.”

“Do I?” He asked absently, and then-- oh, he thought, as the coffee mug slipped out of his fingers and his vision greyed. That little shit.

Are you awake?

Ah-- Rem…?

Rem…I had a nightmare. Everything was so hot. It burned up everything, even humans’ understanding of each other. No one would even try anymore, like you said they could. And I…I couldn’t help but wonder why I tried, either. Why any of it was worth it. Why I kept my promise after all this time.

Oh, Nai. You’ve always been so sentimental, haven’t you? Even when you try to act tough, you’re the same sweet boy I know. Not even a sun could burn that away. But you shouldn’t lose hope! After all, you have the same blank ticket I do, you know. When you start to doubt…just look at that ticket, and remember that you can go anywhere with it. All the way into tomorrow.

Rem…? Rem! 

He woke up with a gasp, rolling off the side of the bed with a thump. 

As he tried to steady his breathing, blinking stinging eyes, he heard several sets of much too heavy footsteps barrelling down the hall, and he slid under the bed properly just as the door slammed open, a pair of men in ugly, round bodysuits covered in neon lights peered in, shrugged, and then walked away.

Oh, damn it all, was that the gang the crewman had mentioned? That’s what the kid was doing onboard. More the fool him.

Sighing, Nai slid out from under the bed once they’d gone and took off. Not that he really knew what he was doing-- but the steamer was slowly accelerating far past the point of safety, and that was enough that he knew he needed to stop it. He could probably survive if he jumped off, albeit with a few bruises, but…Rem would want him to save everyone. As always, that was his reasoning. Rem would want it that way. The promise he made her the ball and chain that kept him doing these things, the ties that bound him to this life he hadn’t chosen, but kept fighting through anyway. 

And no matter how he’d complain about it…he would never let it go.

He supposed his best bet was to check the control room at the front-- at the very least, he’d be able to figure out the current situation from whoever was in there. It wasn’t too hard to slip out a window and climb the outside of the steamer towards it, using his knives as a grappling hook and anchor both; after all this time, he’d figured out more than a few creative workarounds for them, after all. A blade could be shockingly multifunctional, with some ingenuity.

When he got up there, he couldn’t exactly hear what was going on, but he could see it well enough. A crewman dead, a man in a captain’s uniform in his seat looking frightened. A huge man he recognized from bounty posters-- the leader of the gang-- back to the window…with his gun pressed against that boy’s teeth, the boy crying and furious and glaring in fear and anger.

What a scene.

His knives shattered the window, distracting everyone with the falling glass, and he swung in. “Kid, here!” The boy complied immediately, darting behind him, and he let his knives melt out of his wrist as he faced down the tall figure-- Neon, wasn’t it? Some of his lackeys moved to intercept him, but he stopped them with a slash across the floor right at their toes, staggering them backwards off balance. “No one makes a move.”

The door burst open, one of the lackeys calling for their boss, and almost too late he saw the muzzle of Neon’s gun pointing at him from below his arm. He hissed a swear and grabbed the boy around the waist, leaping back out the window and just barely avoiding the gunfire that followed. This was about to be exasperatingly difficult, wasn’t it?

The kid pointed out a ventilation duct above them where they clung precariously to the side of the steamer, the massive thing now all but careening down its route and bouncing off cliffsides like an out of control pinball. Thankfully it wasn’t too far above them, and keeping an arm fixed around the kid’s waist, he got them up there safely, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

“Wh--why did you save me--?” The kid started, and earned a firm smack upside the head for his troubles.

“After the trouble I went through to do it, you should at least thank me before asking stupid questions,” Nai told him in annoyance. “Now what the hell’s going on here?”

The boy winced. “Neon, he-- he wants whatever’s in the safe, but it’s sealed, and the only codes are in May City, so he-- he’s planning to send it over the cliff to smash it open.”

“...you’re joking,” he said, feeling a headache starting to form already. “God, why is nothing ever easy?” Whatever deity there was had to be playing a cosmic joke on him, at this point. 

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Right, we have to stop that, then,” he muttered. “Any bright ideas, kid? You were helping him.” 

The kid stared at him for a moment, clearly running through some inner turmoil he really didn’t care about, and then nodded, pulling a folded paper from his shirt and spreading it out in front of them. “...is that the blueprint for this thing?”

“Yeah, but not the original,” the kid admitted. “I copied it from my dad’s workroom.”

Had he? He took another look at it. “Down to all his notes, even,” he mused. “Not bad. Your father taught you well, I suppose.”

The kid lost himself in thought again, tears filling his eyes and rolling down his face as he stared down at the paper. “Dad…” He murmured. “I’m sorry…for just a little money, I sold this dream of yours. I can’t…like this, I can’t amount to anything-- ow!” He yelped, rubbing his head. “What’d you hit me for?!”

“Now’s not the time for getting worked up about what you did in the past,” he said flatly. “Look ahead instead. What can you do now?”

The kid blinked, and then nodded, scrubbing at his face-- he was really no good at comforting anyone, but at least that seemed to work. “Right,” he said. “Um. I’m Kaite.”

“Kaite,” he repeated. “Right.” He’d forget it after this was over, but for now he’d try to keep it in mind.

Nai pulled the blueprint closer to look it over-- not bad, really; for a hulking piece of junk built out of ship scraps, it was honestly an impressive attempt. And it was simple enough for him, having been born on one of the ships it was built from, to understand. Reading all those manuals and engineering logs did pay off. 

“This room,” he pointed. “We head there. Stay close.”

There were more than a few lackeys on the way there, but they were no match for him. And good; the more he took down on the way, the more fear would spread through the remainder. That would throw them off, make it easier. 

“Is this really gonna work?” Kaite asked behind him, as they slipped into the makeshift communications room. Rudimentary at best, with all its pipes, but still workable enough, he supposed. Humans did come up with clever ways to make up for their lack of lost technology sometimes.

“It should,” he replied, sliding into the seat. “Aside from their boss, none of them seem all that bright. Throwing some confusion in the mix will at the least buy us some time.”

Between this and the little message he’d sent along to their boss-- sticking to his passing little whim from earlier, a crude attempt to replicate the roadrunner he recalled from those cartoons and the words catch me if you can scribbled on a torn scrap of paper and stuck to a fleeing lackey’s back-- it should send them all flailing enough that they’d be easy to deal with.

And sure enough, opening the tube that led to the control room, they could both hear Neon losing his mind in outrage, demanding his men find ‘that blond bastard’. He couldn’t help but share a triumphant grin with Kaite, before leaning in to that particular tube.

Now, he happened to be an utterly abysmal actor, but some times you didn’t really need acting skills. Just the ability to put on a fake accent-- something he wasn’t bad at, given how many languages he’d picked up in their year growing up on the ship-- and sound reasonably frantic.

“This is the starboard passenger section, he’s here! That blond bastard--”

He smacked the pipe with his right hand, the metallic sound ringing up the tube-- that should be convincing enough, he decided, and stood, ceding the seat to Kaite. “We should be able to track them now,” he said, digging in a pocket for the pen-shaped comms device he’d held onto from Home and its small earpiece. “Here,” he said, slipping the latter into his ear. “I have an earpiece. Talk into that, and I’ll hear you. Keep me informed.”

The boy gaped at him. “A-A radio this small?!” He managed. “This should be in a museum, it’s-- it’s lost technology! How do you have something like this?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, and I wouldn’t tell you anyway,” he said tiredly. “Not that there’s time. Just focus on the present.”

That said, he darted out into the hallway-- and swore, as he ran directly into a pair of lackeys, who opened fire before he could even register that they were there. He felt bullets tear into his side and grimaced, but lashed out-- and regretted it immediately, as in this small hallway his knives didn’t have enough leeway, and one of them fell bloodily to the ground, clutching his neck area too close for comfort.

“Damn!” He hissed it out, digging the spare bandages he kept in one of his coat pockets out. “Too close to an artery, shit, I’ve got to be more careful in these damn tight hallways, with those ridiculous bulky suits of theirs--” 

“What--” Kaite gasped behind him as he moved to get the man’s suit off to stem the bleeding. Thankfully it hadn’t actually gotten the artery, but it was still far too close, and he growled out another curse at himself as he tended to it. “W-Wait, don’t tell me-- even with those knives of yours, you haven’t been killing them?! That makes no sense! You’ve got knives, that-- that I don’t even know where they come from, and you’re so good with them, why are you trying to avoid killing anyone? To look cool?! That’s just stupid! You’ll get killed!”

He hissed out a breath and sat back, pressing his hand against his own wound, which made Kaite gasp as he noticed it. “It is stupid,” he admitted freely. “It’s the most idiotic thing anyone could do on this planet, I know that. But I promised someone I’d never take a life, and I intend to keep that promise as best I can.”

He looked up at Kaite. “Remember the name Rem Saverem,” Nai said quietly. “She’s the reason humanity is still alive…in more ways than you could imagine.”

Between her actions, and his promise to her…she had saved them over and over across this century and a half. Saved them from Vash’s delusions of Paradise, and saved them from his hatred and revenge before it even began. For her sake, he had put them aside before they took root. Maybe if he hadn’t, the roles would be reversed, and it would be Vash smiling up at this boy with a pathetic excuse and desperate promise, and he would be the one trying to wipe humanity from this world.

But he had, and now all humans had to look to was a reluctantly sheathed blade, still dripping blood from the wounds it made without wanting to, on both himself and the world around him.

He winced and stood. “Don’t worry about me. You do your job, Kaite, and we’ll keep this steamer in one piece.”

That said, he took off before the boy could protest. 

Even so, as he made his way back towards the control room, the boy protested anyway, crackling through his earpiece sounding desperately confused.

“You can’t underestimate the Bad Lads!” He cried. “No-- you’re underestimating humans! We’ve all-- them, and me, we’ve all done horrible things, so you can’t just--”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he said, cutting the boy off. “I’ve never once said I loved humanity, or even liked it. Some days I still can’t stand you, and some days only I tolerate you with clenched teeth. You always, always, choose violence, choose conflict, and I hate that about you.” He swallowed. “But some of you-- some small few-- choose otherwise. And I made a promise to one of them.” 

He exhaled. “She taught me this: no matter how often humanity errs, makes mistakes…they always have a blank ticket into tomorrow, one where they have the chance to change. And I choose to believe in her words, even if I can’t believe in anyone else. So even if you can’t believe in yourself, even if you’ve done terrible things, take that ticket into the future and do better.”

Kaite went quiet after that for a long moment, before without further questioning picking back up on his directions. 

Eventually their directions lead them to the only empty room-- good, from there he could probably regroup and continue to make his way to the control room, he thought, but as the doors slid open…

“Kaite,” he said quietly. “Get out of there. Now.”

Neon just grinned at him from where he stood, surrounded by dozens of lackeys. “Welcome to the party!”

The lackeys all open fired-- deliberately missing, of course, an act of intimidation. Not that it worked; something so childish after all these years hardly made him bat an eye, even as the gunsmoke cleared from the hundreds of bullet holes around him.

“Not bad at all!” Neon said, whistling. “You ain’t afraid to die, are you?”

“Boss!” A call came from the communications pipe. “We got the brat!”

Neon’s grin widened, feral and unhinged. “Good! Looks like you’re out of options, eh? Impressed you made it this far with just that brat on your side, but this is where it ends. Too bad, blondie. I almost pity you.”

He cocked his gun, and Nai met his gaze unflinchingly. It’d be just another scar to add to the collection, if he didn’t time his knives right to cut the bullet before it hit. So many lackeys in here it could be dangerous to try, but he didn’t have much choice depending on where he’d aim, now, did he? He couldn’t die here.

“Not so fast!”

One of the lackeys-- sounding suspiciously higher pitched than the others-- pointed a derringer (wait) at Neon’s head, and he snarled a question at them.

“Normally, this kind of thing isn’t exactly our first option, but this did seem to be the best way to get past you,” they-- she-- said, removing her suit’s mask. “Meryl Stryfe, Bernardelli Insurance Society. Some people, though, call me Derringer Meryl.”

“Don’t get smart with us, girlie--” One of the lackeys started, only to be blasted into the wall by a pair of concussive bolts.

“As for me, ummm,” the culprit said, tugging her own mask off. “I’m Milly Thompson. I, uh, guess you can call me Stungun Milly?”

Meryl glanced his way. “We’ll let this one slide, since we don’t have much time,” she told him. “So, if you would be kind enough to quickly and decisively handle the situation, Mr. Knives the Reaper?”

The panic in the lackeys was immediate. Shouts and yelps of shock and horror as they realized just who they were dealing with-- it made him smirk despite himself. Maybe it was a little cruel of him to take such joy in their reactions, but…it was always a little fun to be feared when the ones fearing him had earned it.

Neon grumbled a sigh, even as the steamer rocked wildly to the side, sending everyone in the room sliding and staggering. “Don’t have time for this,” he said, pulling his gun and pointing it at him, even as Nai lifted his arm and called his knives from his wrist. “The hull won’t hold out much longer than this. But I’ve got one thing to ask you, Reaper-- that city. The one everyone says you wiped off the map. July. Nobody ever found any bodies that day, why?”

He swallowed. “Why? Had someone you loved there? Do you want revenge?” He asked, cold to hide his discomfort at the question.

“Shut up, that doesn’t have a damn thing to do with it,” Neon snapped. “Just answer the question. Did you do it?”

He closed his eyes. The wreckage danced behind his eyelids, the swathe of destruction in all directions-- nothing but rubble and blood as far as the eye could see, whatever corpses there could have been so thoroughly destroyed nothing was left of them-- the empty space in his memories, and the ugly, curdling sensation in his stomach that he had been the one to cause it.

“...I don’t remember.”

“What the hell kinda answer is that--” One of the lackeys protested, before Neon cut him off.

“Everyone stay out of this. This is my fight,” he told them.

Nai sighed. Nothing for it. “If I win, will you stop the ship?”

“Promise,” Neon agreed. “You worms got that?!” 

The lackeys all shouted assent, and before he knew it, they were both on the deck of the ship, rubble and debris flying past them like shooting stars.

“You know I don’t use a gun,” he warned Neon. “Still want to do this?”

“Don’t care what kind of fancy tricks you use those knives for,” Neon scoffed. “A duel is a duel. Use what you want.”

He nodded once, sharp and quick, trying to tune out the voices over the intercom, audible from the upper decks-- the ones cheering for him. The ones counting on him. He hated when they did that. He wasn’t worth that. Didn’t they know how much he hated them?

“Bit of a cliche, I know,” Neon said, holding up a coin. “But when this coin hits the deck, we shoot. Got it?”

He nodded again, and Neon threw the coin.

It all happened in what felt like seconds, events stuttering into each other in a staccato burst of everything all at once. Rubble and bullets, bodies and knives flying, his wound tearing open further and sending him crashing to the deck mid-leap even as blades found their mark and tore into the guns that Neon had pulled from his giant shoulder pad, shredding the metal and fabric alike. 

“A double knock out?!” He heard one of the lackeys cry. “Boss, finish him off!”

“Reckless bastard, moving like that with a hole in your gut,” Neon snapped. “All he did was rip open his own wounds, so shaddup, all of you!”

“Boss…” One of the lackeys tried, as he pushed himself upright with a groan. 

Neon just shook his head, tugging his hat lower. “Stop,” he said. “Like I’ve always said, life always shines brightest when men of like minds comes together.”

That…felt like respect, he thought. How was it so easy to earn that, when all he did was look like an idiot, ripping his side open like that?

Humans were beyond understanding sometimes.

Not that he had much time to contemplate that-- the boiler had been compromised, according to the panicking control room. To put the brakes on now would cause the hull to explode. And worse still, the overheating was flooding the system enough their heat-generator plant was getting hit with the backlash. It would hurt-- no, it could kill her if they weren’t careful where they cut the flow.

Tensions were high-- he couldn’t do much but watch as the engineers lashed out at Kaite, as Kaite stubbornly, softly, refused to back down. “I’m going to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quietly. 

Nai hissed a breath, turning to the engineers. “What’s your plan, then?”

“We won’t make it with a full brake,” one of them said. “We have to cut the engine first.”

“And the plant?”

“We don’t know,” he admitted. “We still hardly understand the technology behind those things. We can’t know if it will hold or not, all we can do is hope for the best.”

Well. That wasn’t true, and he glared viciously at them. “So you’ll just leave her to sit and pray she’ll survive this?” He asked. “Not happening. You do what you need to do. I’ll take care of your angel.”

As if she heard him, he heard her respond, her cry echoing down the halls. “The plant’s out of control!” 

“She’s just frightened,” he said, already taking off. “You’ve been manhandling her all night, is it any wonder?”

He skidded into the plant room, shoving the engineers aside as he took off to her tank-- it was bad; she’d unfolded herself already, eyes wide in a panic he knew only he could feel. He ignored their cries of protest, leaping the railing to press himself against the glass. “Easy,” he whispered. “Easy, sister. I’m here.”

“What are you doing?!” Someone behind him cried.

“You’ve got four minutes,” he yelled back over his shoulder. “I can only calm her so much, so you’d better damn well hurry up!”

That was about it for the attention he could bother to spare the humans, and his gaze turned towards his sister. “Easy,” he whispered again, closing his eyes and reaching out for her. He felt her fear as she did, echoing through him. Not just for herself, but for the humans onboard. She didn’t want to hurt them, the humans who cared for her and spent their days at her side.

It had taken him a long time to accept. Longer, probably, because he hadn’t wanted to. Every plant he’d helped when they were struggling, every plant he’d visited just to make sure they were alright-- the plants at Home-- he’d sought answers from them, begging his sisters to help him understand why they let the humans use them like this, why they allowed themselves to be treated like tools. He’d kept pushing himself to try, because they were all he had now, after he had fled Vash’s side. They were all he had, his sweet sisters, and he had to understand. She’d want him to understand. He’d only ever wanted to understand.

Even now, decades on, he still struggled. Sometimes the urge to take them away from it all and find somewhere safe for them still surged through him. Sometimes he’d offer, even-- but they would always deny him. For whatever reason, one still unclear to him -- any connection he’d make was shaky and unstable; he wasn’t good at making such connections, and his own pain made it even harder to resonate -- his sisters wished to stay where they were. And he couldn’t deny them that. Maybe one day it would make sense to him…but for now, for now all he could do was try to accept their answer. And when he could…every chance he could do so…protect them.

And he has, he thought distantly, his sister brushing comfortingly against his mind as he collapsed into unconsciousness, reassuring him that she would be okay now. And he has.

Thankfully, everything worked out. With a little surprise help from Neon himself, having apparently decided that Knives the Reaper had impressed him enough to lend the ship a hand, they’d stopped just at the edge of the cliff. Kaite had helped too, burning himself badly slipping through pipes to pull the overheated emergency brake. And…good. He’d taken her words to heart, it seemed.

The boy followed him out onto the ship’s roof, when he slipped away for some air and to get away from the cheering and relief, and there they sat in silence for a while, before…

Nai looked over sharply, eyes wide, and Kaite paused in the song he was singing to tilt his head. “What?” He asked defensively. “Sure, it’s an old song, but I like it.”

He exhaled slowly, giving the boy a rare, barely-seen smile, small and crooked. “I like it too,” he told the boy. “Don’t mind me. It’s just…nostalgic.”

He hadn’t heard it for a hundred and fifty years, after all. It had been Rem’s favorite.

Her spirit really did live on in these humans, here and there, he mused, resting his arms on his knees, chin on his arms to look out at the endless blue sky. That was nice. That no matter their sins, no matter how much he hated them…no matter the terrible choices they always seem to make…some of them really do try for a better tomorrow, holding that ticket.

This really must have been what she hoped for him to see, that day, when he clutched that knife to him in rage and anger.

“Hey, don’t you start crying, that’s weird!”

“--ah,” he blinked, laughing in surprise at himself. “Sorry.”

Well…everything worked out. That meant…he’d best be on his way again.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 3
Blood and Thunder

It turned out he hadn’t been able to escape the insurance girls, after all.

That had been…exasperating, to say the least. They were almost as stubborn as he was. Nai was trying not to be a little impressed, frankly. Mostly out of spite, because having a pair of tagalongs was…he didn’t like it. He was so used to being alone, wanted to be alone. And yet now he had two girls trying to keep him out of the inevitable trouble that followed him like a magnet, two girls who acted so-- so--

He didn’t like it.

But nonetheless, there they were, getting him out of trouble and getting into it themselves, with more of those horrifically sized outlaws, a rich bastard, and a little geoplant farm belonging to an old couple who didn’t want it damaged. At least that had all worked out, even if he had to step in from where he’d technically been ordered to go back to town. Even if he’d only ignored that order because he missed trees too much to want to leave right away, he was glad he had. Let Stryfe think her little derringer had done all that, that was fine with him.

Finally getting to May City was at least quiet and peaceful, and it had, he’d heard, an information broker working out of a shoe store that might know something about Vash’s whereabouts. At least…he hoped so. Wandering aimlessly for so long after July hadn’t been much help, and the anxiety about his brother’s actions always ate at him. Decades he almost hadn’t thought about it, too busy focused on surviving this planet alone and learning how to exist without his twin, but after July…after whatever happened there, that he knew, just knew, his brother was involved in somehow…he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t, not until he found him.

Well. Even if that had been a bust, at least the day was cool enough and the sky was blue enough that Nai could take a nap on one of the benches by the fountain in the town square.

Or at least he could try to, before a basketball nearly knocked him over, and he ended up roped into playing with a bunch of rowdy children. Why little brats all looked at him and saw someone to bother, he never knew, and he never knew why he always let them. Maybe they just reminded him of himself and Vash when they were little. A childhood of only a year, before it was taken and destroyed forever. Maybe. Who knew?

Hell, he even got the girls involved in their little impromptu game of ball, after Milly had offered to buy snacks and he’d agreed, even getting something for the scruffy little girl watching off in the sidelines. While he never needed to eat, he’d learned that children did, very much, and that too many people went hungry on this world.

…and alright, maybe he liked the taste of some things, even if they weren’t nutritionally necessary for him. He’d never admit it, though.

The day soured quickly.

Too quickly-- like a burst of lightning, he felt it. A presence. Eerie and wrong, like the sky before a storm, the air itself promising violence. He froze, the ball passing effortlessly by nerveless fingers as he scanned the area frantically, searching for its source. A predator. A hunter. Something was here, in broad daylight, what could it possibly--

I’ve found you, Judas. Knives the Reaper.

The voice echoed in Nai’s mind, soft and pleasant and detached, and his heart clenched. No one should be in there but his sisters, but his brother, and yet this stranger had forced his way inside without even a moment’s difficulty.

Who are you? He kept his face neutral, so he wouldn’t alert the girls and children something was off. No-- what are you?

That was a foolish question: he’d called him Judas. He knew why he was here.

Legato Bluesummers, came the answer. The messenger of my beloved Angel, the man you are searching for.

Bile rose in his mouth. Angel? He really had people calling him that.

He caught a glimpse of Thompson out of the corner of an eye, and her face flashed bright with concern. Damn. He wasn’t doing a good job of hiding his expression, after all. He swallowed, pulling his glasses out of his coat-- square framed, rimless things that he’d been given as a gift at some point by Luida, who had gently told him the purple-tinted lenses might help him come off as less intimidating sometimes, on his bad days, when he couldn’t help but glare so coldly at anyone who approached. 

Now, they’d hide his eyes for another reason.

Where is he?

And what would you do if I told you?

I’m asking the questions here, Bluesummers. Where is he?

There was silence, and his heartbeat quickened.

Tell me! I need to find him-- I need to stop him. He needs to understand the weight of everything he’s done, the weight of the reality he refuses to accept! His hands curled into fists. He’d killed Rem. He’d killed Rem, and so many others, and still, still he refused to accept the truth that that’s what he’d done. Refused to believe anything but his own delusions of salvation and Paradise. He had to-- he had to--

He’s still sleeping, Legato responded. Due to the wounds you inflicted upon him, even our glorious angel must know rest. But never you fear, o Judas-- I will bring him your corpse.

Nai couldn’t help the audible snort he let out at that.

Don’t think I can? The stranger taunted. I still haven’t given you your gift.

Something told him to turn around, and he did-- over his shoulder, a glimpse of blue hair and white coat, a hand resting gently on the head of the little stray girl from earlier, who was obliviously eating a sandwich.

His wrist twitched, and heard an echoing laugh in his mind as Legato’s hands lifted away in mock surrender.

My, my! Judas Iscariot deigns to concern himself with the lives of mortals, he taunted, hatred beginning to creep into his words enough that Nai’s mind began to feel coated in oil. How amusing. And I was led to believe that you detested our kind, with how you refuse to aid our Angel in our salvation. Do you realize that should I desire, I can kill every human within fifty meters of us in under two seconds?

Nai froze.

Your Mary Magdalene gave her life as a martyr to save the lives of our kind, and you presume to do the same. Yet your hesitance betrays you, sinner who claims to have clean hands. Then again, you have already lost before the battle’s even begun. No bystanders-- will you come and kill me, then?

His hands shook, watching that blue haired man stand and turn to face him, eyes glittering like gold coins, as lifeless and cold as the metal itself.

A wise decision, Legato mocked him, gleeful at his turmoil. Besides, today I am only here as my Angel’s divine messenger. He pulled a case out of his coat, holding it up for him to see. I bring with me your thirty pieces of silver, Judas. Though for you, it is only twelve. You betray your brother for far less, after all. Soon, twelve assassins will come for your life-- each will hold the other half of the coins within this case. If they give you even a fraction of the Purgatory you well deserve, I will delight in it. If you-- or perhaps one of them-- collects your blood price, then perhaps something truly interesting will happen.

He set it on the bench, along with a paper bag he hadn’t seen before. The rest? Consider it a parting gift. A lesson from me to you. I’ll leave it here, o Iscariot, and I humbly await the day when you put the noose ‘round your neck.

He moved forward, then, sick and feeling like a puppet with cut strings, but before he could reach the smiling, blue-haired figure a scream echoed loud in the square, and he whipped around to see the source.

“Isn’t that the shoemaker’s wife?” Someone around them said, as an older woman stumbled towards the crowds, screaming and sobbing.

He whipped back around. Legato was gone…and the bag he had left was beginning to stain red.

“His head!” He heard her scream from a distance. “His head is gone!”

All he could think, then, was-- just what sort of demon had his brother created?

Nai wasn’t surprised they’d arrested him. It was too perfect. He’d been there earlier today, at the shop. The closest standing next to the head when it was found. And on top of that, he’s Knives the Reaper, the Walking Armory. No wonder they would suspect him. He was half sure that had been the intent.

Not that he cared, really. He’d be able to cut his way out of the chains soon enough, once the sheriff was asleep.

But…that wasn’t for a while yet. For now, all he could do was stare down at the iron around his wrists and think.

Vash…are you really making your move now? What are you thinking? Do you still really believe you’re simply sending humans on to Eden? Do you still think yourself an angel of salvation, lost in madness? I won’t let you take any more lives, Vash. I won’t let you damn yourself any further.

Rem…she would be heartbroken to know what had become of him. He’d been her favorite; he had no illusions of that, and hadn’t even minded. Vash had been his favorite, too. So gentle, so unsure. More human than he was, needing to eat and drink. He’d loved him, and so had she. Their Vash. And now…

He remembered Rem telling them why she was on the SEEDS ship. She had loved someone dearly, once, and they had died-- so, with any place feeling the same without them, she left on the ship. Why not, at that point? He hadn’t understood what it meant, then. How you could feel when someone passed away. And when they’d discovered the truth, he thought he’d hate her. Thought he’d feel nothing, from that moment on.

And yet…and yet even after a hundred and fifty years, her loss felt like a wound still unhealed. Shame and guilt tainted its edges, decrying him for his ill will towards her-- her blood, still tainting his hands. Her smile, face drawn and pained as she cried out her apologies towards him, the knife still in her side. He had hated her. He had wanted her dead. And yet now that she was dead, and not by his hands but by her own self-sacrifice, Vash’s mad act of love…

He wished he felt like he’d apologized properly. He wished he felt like he could be forgiven.

Vash…I’ll make you see what you’ve done. I’ll make you understand the lives on your hands. And if I can’t make you see…if I can’t, then…I’ll do what I have to do to ease your burden. No matter the promise I made. I’ll do it-- this I swear.

“...Mr. Knives?”

He startled at Thompson’s voice-- or rather, her gasp, and tried to shake whatever expression he’d been wearing off, giving her his usual bemused smirk. “Oh, you’re still following me.”

Thompson looked concerned, he thought, and Stryfe not much less so. “We’re sorry,” she said. “This damn sheriff is so stubborn-- we’ll be back for you tomorrow, alright?”

“The thought’s appreciated, but don’t bother,” he told her, and Thompson cleared her throat over Stryfe’s ensuing protests. He really didn't understand why it bothered her so much.

“U-Um. Mr. Knives?” She ventured, and he glanced at her.

“What is it, Thompson?”

“Um-- Uh--” She tried, and then shook her head, smiling too bright and wide. “Nevermind!”

Really? She wasn’t all that subtle, Nai thought, and opened his mouth to tell her not to bother worrying about him-- really, what was it about him that made them think he needed it? Why worry about their walking natural disaster? It wasn’t like he was human.

But before he could speak, he felt it. Like a wave of dread washing over him, a presence, a-- “Get down!”

The girls and the sheriff threw themselves on the ground as the wall between the back room and front disappeared in a hail of bullets and a cloud of gunsmoke. He twisted around, kicking off the bench to yank the chains holding him in place enough to dodge the worst of it, glaring through the haze at the culprit. Who--?

Loud, strident laughter shook the room. “Can you hear me, Knives the Reaper?! I’m number one of the Gung-Ho Guns, Monev the Gale!”

Shit. So soon?

“Get out of here!” he snarled at the girls. “Now!”

“But--”

“He’s after me!” He told them, fierce, allowing them no argument. “Stay out of this! Get away, now, you idiots!”

Before any of them could act, before he could slice through his cuffs, the man-- Monev-- was on him, slamming his massive hand around his throat and bashing him against the brick behind him so hard it cracked. He was huge, Nai registered, a pair of massive automatic guns set as braces on his wrists and a fanged visor covering his face. “Hah!” Monev mocked. “You really look nothing like your wanted poster.”

“Knives!” Stryfe shouted. “Let him go!”

She leapt to her feet, derringer in hand, and-- what?! Why-- why would she-- they barely knew each other, and he’s treated her like a nuisance at best, why--

“Idiot, don’t!” He shouted, but it was too late, and the big man’s other hand slapped her aside with ease, sending her slamming into the wall and falling, to Thompson’s cries.

Monev cackled. “Twenty years of hellish training, all about to pay off!” He gloated. “Once I kill you, it’ll all be made worth it.”

Even as he readied his gun to fire, he-- no. Absolutely not, he wouldn’t die here--!

His knives exploded from his arm, sending the big man flying as the sharp tendrils threw him backwards, slicing at his arms and legs as he was sent crashing into the ground in front of the sheriff’s office, tearing the chains around his own arms apart as he took off at a sprint. 

Why was he so angry? Why-- 

It didn’t matter. He embraced that anger, as he always did. Always would. Maybe it made him no better of a demon than any of these other humans, hateful and full of violence-- maybe he had never been any better than them at all, if it was so easy for him to feel this way.

But he didn’t care. Not in this moment. Not with the small body of a woman who seemed to think him worth protecting was still lying on the floor behind him.

“Mr. Knives!” He heard, distantly, Thompson wail behind him. “Mr. Knives!”

He ignored her. He had more important things to do. He couldn’t acknowledge the fear in her voice, the naked concern.

Monev had lost one of his guns-- that was good. But he still had one, and that meant he wasn’t going to stop now.

The world blurred. Nothing existed anymore, save for him, his opponent, and his red-hot anger. It burned. He burned. What was Vash thinking? What was that madman Bluesummers thinking? What was the point of this?

No-- none of that mattered. What mattered was hunting that maniac down and-- and-- and--

And he’d cross that bridge when he came ot it.

Distantly, Nai knew he shouldn’t-- distantly, the part of him that was still conscious of the situation, the part not yet lost in blind rage knew what was happening, what had happened, the deadly price of losing his temper, and distantly that part of him begged him to stop. But he could never control himself. Not since that day. Not since the day he went mad, and this rage was born inside of him. It was addicting, disgusting, satisfying, terrible, and he couldn’t hold back.

All he saw was the enemy ahead of him, and the girl who had tried to protect him.

At some point, he thought distantly his right arm-- the prosthetic-- tore itself from its socket as he dashed madly after him, dashed-- he’s too hard to get close to the bullets would ricochet off his knives and send them off target, he needed to pin him down--

The look of fear the bank teller gave him when he charged in and demanded the safe to be opened slid off him like water. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t see it. The rage was too bright, pulsating in his head like a second heartbeat, ringing in his ears.

It worked, though. The iron door was a good enough cover, just long enough for him to get his bearings, just long enough for his knives to slice his way through everything, everything, tearing the other gun off Monev’s arm as he threw himself forward, landing on the other larger man with enough weight that ribs cracked, hand sinking fingers deep into the flesh of that muscled throat, enough force to crush it, knives melting out of his wrist to prick the skin, blood beading from where they pressed, millimeters from puncturing artery and slitting throat.

“P-Please--” Monev wheezed, so far away. “Don’t-- Don’t kill me-- please, please don’t--” His voice was a ragged, pained sob, terrified and almost like a child’s, begging and crying.

His own breath echoed in his ears, like a church bell so close he could touch it. Brass and bright and ringing, tolling a funeral, tolling for the dead. 

For…

The sobbing grew louder, and with it distant noises, cries and shouts and screams, and it dragged Nai back into his own body as if gravity had been turned to max, flattening him to the floor of his own mind. 

He let out a ragged wheeze of his own and recoiled, eyes wildly looking around. The destruction, the bullets-- the slices in stone and wood, destroyed buildings-- people around him, staggering or being carried away, cuts slashed in their bodies and dripping blood-- his own arm, his own body, splattered in crimson gore.

He did it again, he realized, yet another stone sinking him to the bottom of a ravine full of them, each one painted red with his rage and madness and the damage he had done, the promise he had broken.

He thought, maybe, he had thrown his head back and screamed, curling on himself and clutching at his own body like a child seeking comfort.

Rem-- Rem, I did it again. I’m so sorry-- I try so hard to keep my promise, and then every time, every time I get angry, I forget. I forget, and I break it, over and over--

How can I judge him, when I’m just as guilty?

How do I deserve to try and stop him, when there’s blood on my hands, too?

Rem…Rem, please tell me. Is trying good enough? Can I ever be good enough?

I’m sorry…I’m sorry…

Two days passed by in a blur.

He vaguely recalled demanding answers from Monev, who had none, and being given the coin half he carried. Letting him go.

He vaguely recalled the whispers passing his room. Horror, fear, anger. He’s a monster. A demon. The rumors he doesn’t kill really are just rumors-- he’s a living weapon. He needs to leave. 

The girls, Nai thought, checked on him, but never came inside his room. They must be afraid of him now, too. Good-- maybe they’ll give up and stop following him.

He couldn’t remember how many showers he’d taken by now. The blood felt like it was a part of his own body. Like it had absorbed into him with the retreat of his knives. A sin he couldn’t wash away. Proof of his own imperfection.

Angel, Vash called himself. How ironic, when his brother was a demon. He could imagine feathers all he wants but his were stained black. Had he become Lucifer, when they all fell from space? 

They’d both gone mad that day. Vash had lost himself in delusion, and his own hate, his own anger, had been born inside of him. A burning knot that would consume him if he allowed it. That almost had, if it hadn’t been for Rem, hadn’t been for his sisters. And yet even so-- even so, despite his best efforts to try for their sakes, despite her promise acting as a seal on that anger, on that hate…it was only a seal, and when it broke, when it cracked, he would bring death.

He was no angel. He was no judge of humanity’s flaws. He hated them, resented them for their cruelty and violence, but he was no better. All he would be doing if he said otherwise was lying to himself. 

So that was why, when the door finally burst open to reveal the insurance girls, staring in mute shock at his bare chest-- scars, so many scars, his own knives and those of others that had proven to him over and over his fears were valid-- he froze.

“....what?”

His voice was hoarse, small, almost childish in its confusion, and he saw something in their faces crumple. And not-- not in fear. He hadn’t seen faces like that on anyone outside Home before…

“Those-- those scars,” Stryfe managed, once they’d all found their wobbly way to sitting down. “Is that what you’ve been through all this time?”

Nai shrugged aimlessly, twisting his towel in his hand. “It’s nothing I haven’t expected,” he admitted. “You don’t have to stare. I know what they look like.”

“They-- they aren’t that bad!” Stryfe yelped. “I was just taken by surprise, that’s all!”

“So was I!” Thompson said earnestly. “I didn’t realize you had a prosthetic, you spooked us! I was so worried!”

She was…?

“So I was I!” Stryfe said earnestly, sincerely, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Who was that guy? Why was he after you, your bounty’s been cancelled! Honestly, you do nothing and trouble still finds you anyway! The way the townspeople talk now…” 

She softened. “Doesn’t it hurt?” She asked. “Why don’t you stop? Go…go find somewhere and live quietly, without anyone to bother you?”

“...I can’t,” he said, staring at the towel in his hand. “I would if I could, if I felt like it would help. But I can’t. If I did-- if I just let…if I just let his sins stack up on themselves, more and more, if I let her down after I’d promised…I really would just be a monster.”

As much as it hurt-- he’d regret it for the rest of his long, long life if he just gave up and abandoned the humans he resented so much, the humans that would never truly be safe around him, the humans Rem loved, to Vash’s dreams of Paradise. 

He left town the next day. He was sure they were grateful-- the sheriff practically saw him out personally. Nai was glad there was no fuss, at least, or that no one else tried to kill him on the way.

It didn’t take long, though, to find yet another twisted scene.

Monev, strung up like a crucifixion. Pinned with stakes to a cross-shaped piece of rubble, a martyr for Vash’s cause.

“Knives!”

“Don’t come closer!” He yelled over his shoulder, part of him stunned at how easily he accepted that the girls had followed after. “Don’t look!”

A high-pitched cackle from nearby had him spinning around.

“A mutt like that doesn’t get to go home!” They mocked, a tall and spindly man wearing spherical armor bristling with spikes. “He goes to Hell!”

“You killed him,” he said. It wasn't a question, and the man knew it, only cackling.

“Number two of the Gung-Ho Guns, EG Mine!” He said, crowing it proudly. “And what’s it to you if I did! After the number you did on that town, you should be thanking me for catching the one you missed! Besides…this is my court, now. With a snap of my fingers, I can turn you into a nice, messy pile of mincemeat.”

“Really,” he said, distant and cold enough to give Mine pause. “You can, can you?”

Mine laughed harder. “Oh, are you feeling remorse? You? I was told you’re the biggest hypocrite on this planet, what with you failing to keep even a simple little promise, but you’re worse than even I thought! How pathetic is it to mourn the death of an enemy when you yourself just killed at least a dozen!”

“You should shut up now,” he said coldly. “I’m not in the mood for this today.”

Something in his voice made the Gung-Ho Gun pause, fear flickering in his eyes, but he persisted. “Well, I don’t care what kind of mood you’re in! You’re about to die!"

“No,” Nai said flatly. “I don’t think I am.”

A flick of his wrist, and the man came tumbling off his perch, his spherical weapon shattering into pieces, and he gave the little bastard a good swift kick in the head to make sure he stayed down. Still breathing-- but definitely not getting back up any time soon.

That done, his attention snapped further away-- he recognized that feeling, like the air before a thunderstorm, the creeping dread, and he gestured, hoping to at least put a cut on that pale face. 

“Bluesummers!” He snarled, voice cutting through the air after his knife. “We’re changing the game! I’m taking over the table now-- consider yourself the one being hunted! And I won’t stop until my fangs find you!”

To kill him-- no. He’d keep his promise, damn it all. But he would make him pay tenfold for this. For the blade he seemed to know exactly where to place to slice open all of his wounds. The taunts, the mockery, the way he seemed to want to force him to drown in his perceived hypocrisy, his imperfection and his sins-- oh, he was not about to let Legato win this game. Not about to let himself be broken.

No. No matter how he’d fail and falter, no matter the blood on his hands, no matter how he fought against his own anger to keep his promise to Rem-- he would not stop trying. Not even if it killed him.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 4
Undertaker

The bus to Jeonora Rock was…small, and bumpy, but at least it was cool inside the bus.

Nai didn’t know why he’d agreed to ride it instead of walk, but the girls had insisted, and so here he was, staring blankly out the window and lost in thought. He thought he was being watched-- the girls were worried about him for some unknown reason, but he ignored it. The fact that they were still following him was enough of a mystery he couldn’t wrap his head around, let alone that they seemed to genuinely be concerned.

So he ignored it; instead, he thought about Legato Bluesummers. 

He had thought he’d known the darkness of humanity by now, but that one…he was something else. It wasn’t like he could look into those cold and empty eyes and see a monster. No, he couldn’t see anything at all, which was almost more unsettling. Just…a void. A void, and a malice that overwhelmed you.

He couldn’t help but think this was the first time in a long, long time he might actually be afraid of a human. 

He didn’t know what to think of that.

He sighed, staring at the window and fidgeting with the wrapper of one of the sweets he always carried, something to do to keep his mind off these spiraling thoughts-- a much less harmful bad habit, he supposed, chewing on candy; Brad had gotten him to start a while back with a handful of fruit-flavored drops, and he’d found he hadn’t minded it all that much.

As the scenery passed by, though, a glint of something caught his eye, and--

What?

Well-- Nai decided, consider this his good deed for the day. “Hey!” He called to the driver. “There’s someone out there!”

And there, was, in fact, someone out there. And not even a corpse, either.

The man was huge, broad and almost taller than him, with long white hair in a ponytail and an old burn scar covering most of the left side of his face. He was all in black, with a set of cross-shaped armguards on the sleeves of his double-breasted coat and an even bigger one at his back. He looked…intimidating, but when he lifted his head to thank them, golden eyes wide and almost watery with sincere relief, that effect seemed to lessen.

“Oh, thank you so much!” He said, stumbling to sit down in one of the empty seats once his large, cloth-wrapped cross was stored in the luggage rack on the roof. “My bike broke down a little ways back, an’ I had no idea what I was gonna do!”

“You were walking?” one of the other passengers asked incredulously. “With that huge thing on your back?!”

“Well, yeah,” the man said with a laugh. “I do have some pride in my job.”

“What’s that, then?” Another passenger asked, baffled.

The man faltered, but only briefly. “An undertaker,” he said. “Can’t y’tell?”

“Well…I suppose you are all in black…” One of the other passengers said skeptically. “But you don’t look like any undertaker I’ve ever met.”

The man huffed a little, crossing his arms. “An’ how many undertakers have you met? I can assure you, takes all kinds!” He looked around, spotting the girls watching him, and smiled gratefully. “Were you th’ ones that spotted me? Thanks so much.”

“Oh! No,” Thompson said, like a traitor. “He did! He saw you all the way out there and yelled for us to stop~!”

The man’s attention fell on him, and those golden eyes widened almost comically. “Oh shit!” He said, “You-- you’re Knives th-- mmph!”

“Shut up!” Nai hissed, from where he’d thrown himself at the man-- who’d proceeded to get very close with his observation-- to shove his hand over his mouth (and wishing his prosthetic wasn’t broken). “Do you not know how to be quiet?! Don’t go broadcasting that! Besides, my bounty was cancelled, so it’s not as if it matters!”

“Y’know, yer not exactly not shoutin’,” the man pointed out, which was technically true, he might have been whispering but it wasn’t very quiet whispering. “An’ anyway, still surprisin’ no one realized. Blond hair, blue coat…s’kinda obvious. Bet that gives you a lotta trouble.”

He smiled, holding out a bronzed hand. “Livio Wo--” He cut himself off, clearing his throat. “Livio. At yer service, Knives.”

“...mm,” he grunted, shaking Livio’s hand for lack of a reason not to. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”

They pulled into a diner and rest stop not long after, and he found a spot in some shade, watching Livio desperately barter for passage the rest of the way with some bemusement.

“You’d think,” he called, once the bus driver seemed both satisfied and exasperated as he walked away. “An undertaker’s pockets would be full, on this planet.”

Livio startled, and then turned to laugh. “Nah, not mine!” He said. “My money goes back home.” He softened, looking out to the distant sands. “Grew up at an orphanage, y’see. Sorta-- both a church an’ an orphanage. So many of us kids there, it was hard for us t’get by. So…when I ended up in this line of work, I started doin’ what I could for ‘em, too.”

“Really,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the phrasing. “This line of work?”

Livio grimaced, eyes darkening. “Well, undertakin’, yeah, but…s’not all of it.”

He sighed, rocking to his feet to go head towards the diner, but paused-- his gaze trailed off to the side, and Nai’s followed to spot some raggedy little urchins staring at them. Before he could even say a word, Livio had walked over, crouching and smiling at them. “Hey, guys,” he said, ruffling the smaller one's hair. “Y’hungry? Don’t have much, but lessee…”

He dug in his coat pockets and produced a slightly battered package of cookies and a little handful of coins-- not too many, he noticed. Three at most. “There we go. Here, split this with your sister, yeah,” he said, handing them the cookies, and two of the coins. “And one o’ those for each of you, so you can go get some water.” He smiled. “Gotta save one for lil ol’ me, though, y’know. Not much, I know, but…it’s okay, right?”

The two kids beamed at him and scurried off, and he couldn’t help but soften a little. It was rare to see someone so genuinely altruistic. Especially someone with eyes that carried shadows like Livio’s did. And his cheerful demeanor…he couldn’t help but think a little bit of Vash, and how he might have been if not for what happened.

“Oh!” He startled at Livio’s surprised noise, and looked over at him.

“What?”

“You can smile!” Livio smiled at him. “I thought your face was stuck in a grouchy sorta pout, but there’s a smile. M’glad. You looked like you were hurtin’ real bad, bad enough you couldn’t look any other way but sad, an’ it was a little painful t’see, you know. Makes everyone sad just lookin’ at you.”

He blinked, startled, feeling his face heat with embarrassment-- how did that man see right through him so quickly? Grouchy, sure, but sad…? That was the first time anyone outside Home had even thought to wonder if he was sad. It…

Before Nai could think of what to say next, a low rumble emanated from Livio’s stomach, and he went red. “Ah--”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I’ll get you something to eat, you bleeding-heart undertaker,” he said. “Come on.”

“Oh, Knives, you are a good person!” Livio cried, tearing up. “My hero!”

“Shut up, or I’ll change my mind.”

Back on the bus, he couldn’t help but ask Livio-- if just because he was fairly sure the man wasn’t just an undertaker, even if he couldn’t prove it.

“Uh…a skull on ‘is arm, an’ some like, needles on the shoulderpad? Sorry, never heard of a guy like that,” Livio admitted. “Friend of yours?”

“Hardly,” he scoffed. 

Stryfe popped over the back of her seat. “Yeah, I don’t know anyone like that, either,” she said. “But he definitely sounds like he’d stand out.”

Nai froze. “What do you mean, you-- you didn’t see him in May City?”

“...no?” She said. “Knives, who is this guy?”

He swallowed. “No, forget I said anything about him,” he told them. “Don’t go anywhere near him if you see him, understood? He’s dangerous.”

“But I thought you were even more dangerous!” Livio teased, which earned him a smack to his shoulder. 

Finally, though, the bus pulled up at their next stop, Jeneora Rock, and everyone got off.

“...isn’t it supposed to be a livelier place than this,” he said slowly, staring around at the empty silence.

“Maybe,” Livio said absently, before hefting his cross over a shoulder and smiling at them warmly. “But for now, see ya later! I got business to be doin’. Was real nice t’meet you all. ‘Specially you, Knives.”

“--oh,” he said, startled at how disappointed he suddenly felt. “Well…see you later, then.”

Livio waved. “See ya! God willin’, we’ll see each other again sooner or later! May you be blessed, or whatever the priests say!”

That said, he took off, his broad form disappearing into the distance.

It was strange, Nai thought to himself. He’d only known him for a few hours, but…it was the first time he felt like he might wish he could've spent more time with a human.

Just who was that undertaker?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 5
Fifth Moon

It didn’t take very long to realize what was wrong with the atmosphere, with the silence.

After all…Nai knew the smell of blood all too well.

Without waiting for the girls, he took off at a dead sprint towards the stench. He didn’t need to ask, to try and question the occasional terrified face peering out the windows of the houses-- it had to be. It had to be Legato.

It didn’t take long for him to find the source, either, a massive pool of blood spread out on the ground halfway up the cliffside. There were no bodies, but with how much of it there were…it had to have been a great many corpses that left that stain.

“Damn,” he hissed under his breath. “He is here.”

He took a half step back, intending to search for him, but--

He wasn’t alone. In the span of a blink, or less so, someone was behind him. A woman with an eyepatch. “Naive of you, Reaper,” she said, voice low. “I could have already killed you three times by now.”

His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you confident? Who are you?”

“Dominique the Cyclops,” she replied. “Gung-Ho Guns number three.” She glanced out at the blood staining the ground. “Here’s some good news for you-- the blood shed here today belonged to the Roderick slave traders. May your high-and-mighty conscience be eased by the fact that there were no innocents slaughtered.”

Nai huffed out a breath. “I won’t argue that. They probably deserved it-- you vastly overestimate my moral code, Cyclops,” he told her. “But what I do take issue with is how you think you have the right to judge your own kind so easily. Slavery, murder…one sin isn’t any heavier than the other, and it’s arrogant to think any of us are better or more justified. It’s all still just sin.”

He wouldn’t argue that the slavers wouldn’t be missed-- good riddance to scum of humanity. But to hold any arrogance that somehow their sins were somehow better or more justified due to their righteousness-- that was part of what made humans so distasteful in his eyes. You do evil to eradicate evil, and to act like it’s anything more than that…maybe in another life he’d have thought himself some kind of authority who could pass judgement on humans. But not here. They were all just as filthy here, covered in the blood and dirt of this planet.

“Besides,” he added, flicking his hand in the air almost dismissively. “While I was talking, I could have killed you if I wanted at least five times.”

Her shirt tore open, his knives having done their work and even grazed her skin, and she gasped, leaping backwards in outrage. 

“Well?” Nai asked. “Are you going to take me to Legato, or are you going to keep up this farce?”

Her visible eye narrowed. “You’re the one who upped the ante, Reaper,” she said. “I’m not folding now. This is the last time you’ll get lucky.”

It wasn’t a long fight, but it wasn’t an easy one, either-- her movements were faster even than his knives, faster than sight-- by the end of it, she’d landed more than one shot, and his face and arm dripped blood. But even so. Even so, he’d figured her out.

Hypnotism-- frustrating, annoying, but nothing he wasn’t reckless enough to handle. Slicing himself open with one of his knives, letting the pain of it center him enough to focus through her tricks…nothing he hadn’t done before in other contexts. Perhaps he should worry, that he was so willing to bleed himself. But if it kept him in the present, kept him from losing himself to his temper-- he’d always choose a few moments of pain over more guilt to chase him through lifetimes.

The loyalty-- the fear, maybe-- that inspired Cyclops to respond to her loss with suicide shook him, though. Vash…what had he done to them? Why would they choose that? Did they believe him, that death meant ascension to Paradise, or…was it fear? He couldn’t imagine humans being afraid of his brother, but perhaps…it had been too long. 

Or maybe it was Legato they feared. That, he could believe.

They did, at least, find an inn after it all calmed down and people slipped out of their houses again, and he did, at least, try to rest. 

Try.

Because that night, he felt it. A voice, a sound, a life touching his own inhuman soul, familiar like the other half of his very existence. A piano duet, laughter, the scent of grass. Wide blue eyes glittering with manic adoration and a smile wide and false.

He shot upright in bed, sending the girls-- where they’d apparently been lurking in his room while he rested-- scattering. “Knives?!”

“Vash!”

He was up and on his feet in moments, forgetting his coat and shirt where he’d taken them off to get them cleaned of blood later and rushing to the door. His hand was on the knob when two pairs of arms wrapped around him, catching him where he stood.

“Knives, wait! What’s going on? It’s chaos outside!” Stryfe cried, eyes wide. 

“You can’t go yet, Mr Knives!” Thompson added, tugging at his arm. “You got hurt in that fight earlier, you’re not recovered yet!”

He ripped himself away from them. “You have to get out of here,” he told them. “Now! Get out of this town, both of you!”

“Didn’t you hear me, you’re not--”

“SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!” He bellowed, cutting Stryfe’s protests off. “You’re not listening to me, you idiot, you need to--!!”

She slapped him.

Nai froze. No one had ever-- he hadn’t-- what?

She visibly regretted it immediately, clutching her hand and tearing up, while Thompson gave him a withering look, tears in her own eyes. “You made her cry,” she accused.

He-- softened, though panic and terror still coursed through him. Why did they make him soften like that? He barely knew them. But still…

“Stryfe. Thompson,” he paused. “...Meryl. Milly. Listen to me. Whatever you’ve seen following me up until now is nothing compared to who is coming to this town tonight-- who might already be here. If I have to fight him-- if I have to confront him…”

He trailed off, and met their eyes with his. “The last time I saw him was in July.”

They froze. “...Lost July,” Stryfe-- Meryl whispered. “Knives…”

“Do you understand me now?” He asked. “Leave this town. Please. For your own good. I don’t--” 

I don’t want them to be hurt, Nai realized. Outside of Home, who know me in a way no one else on this planet can…these are first humans I’ve ever truly wanted to protect like this.

“....one more thing,” he said, already pushing past them towards the door. “My name isn’t Knives. That was a mistake someone ran with a long time ago. I’ve let it go because it never mattered to me, but…” He paused. “...my name is Nai.”

And then he left them there in that room. 

He rushed past the crowds heading away from the stone cliff in the center of town, pushing past them and fighting towards the sight growing closer and closer far above him-- Legato was there, and there-- there, beside him-- blond hair long and wild, naked and pale and whole--

Legato’s eyes found his first, and he raised a hand as if to attack-- but the man beside him moved.

A bare hand pressed against Legato’s shoulder, gripping it, and tossed him aside as if he were a plush doll. Legato hit the ground hard enough to crater, twitched, and went still.

“That wasn’t very nice, Legato,” a horrifically familiar, almost terrifyingly bright and warm voice said. “I never said you could hurt my brother.”

“VASH!”

His hand snapped up, knives melting out of his arm, and Vash’s bright eyes snapped to him, lighting up as if seeing an old friend, before his nose wrinkled like a child’s. “Nai! Why do you keep pointing those at me, it’s mean.”

“You haven’t changed after all this time,” he snarled. “You still don’t even realize what you’re doing, do you?!”

Vash huffed, pouting. “Neither have you, Nai,” he said, almost scolding. “Really, you’ve gotten so rude!” He froze, though, where he stood on high, and those blue eyes filled with tears. The worst part was, he thought-- they were sincere.

“Oh, Nai, you’ve got more scars,” he said, half wailing. “Why do you keep letting that happen?! It isn’t right. Do you keep upsetting people? I’ve always told you not to do that. You should be nicer to humans. It isn’t their fault they do bad things…but you’re always so mean to them, and they always hurt you. They wouldn’t if you would just love them like I do!”

“Your love isn’t love at all, idiot!” Nai snapped, voice shaking. “How do you still not see it?!”

He tilted his head, instead. “You’re so good with those knives you generate, Nai, but do you know how to use the real thing?”

“...what?” Something cold sunk into his gut.

Vash just smiled, lighting up. “Do I know something you don’t? Oh, that’s fun! You were always the smart one, and now I know more than you~ You don’t remember any of it at all, huh?”

That ice slowly crept through his veins. 

Vash, beaming like a terrible sun, hopped down off the cliff, skidding towards him. An old man called after him to stop, grabbing his attention, and--

Pain shot through his head. Who--? He’d seen him before. Where--

Before he could try and find that answer-- an answer that filled him with dread, with disgust, with terror, before he could even lay hands on it-- Vash was in front of him, inches away, smiling with such terrible, fearsome love.

“Nai~!” He sang out. “You know, everyone calls me an angel now. I’m so glad they’ve figured it out! It makes it easier. But it’s really sad, you know.” His hand shot out to cup Nai’s face gently, fingers digging into his cheek only slightly. “You’re an angel too. You just don’t want to see it.”

His arm-- his arm--!

Nai felt it-- burning, twisting, shuddering, like it had stopped belonging to him as it burst into life, twisting before his very eyes into something monstrous, something-- massive, and feathered, and horrifying, a terror given flesh and form…

A reaper’s scythe, a guillotine, an angel’s blade of judgement, massive and terrible, enough to send his legs buckling as he screamed.

He screamed, trying to tug it back, trying to force his control on it the way he could his regular knives, but it didn't-- it wouldn’t-- he couldn’t-- Vash’s arms were around him, now, one around his shoulders he other his waist, holding him like a brother, a mother, lovingly from behind, nuzzling into his cheek.

He screamed. He screamed, and screamed, his body burning with the blaze of light that ran across that blade his arm had become, the flaming sword of the archangel’s divine retribution.

“Isn’t it amazing, Nai?!” Vash cried from behind him, holding him, sliding his hand up to direct that blade, stroking it with reverent fingers, and he felt hot tears run down his face. He didn’t want Vash to touch him, to hold him like this, he felt-- it was wrong, it was terrifying, he couldn’t bear it. “This is our power, this is what we can really do! Between you and me, we can really do it, together! We can escort everyone to Paradise! They’ll all be so happy there, in our Eden, Nai! Everyone we love, all of these humans, they’ll be happy! No more war, or sadness, no more pain, where no one ever suffers! We can take them there together! Just like in July!”

Nai struggled, screaming, tears burning his cheeks even as Vash held on tight-- 

The next moments were a blur. 

A knife-- one of his knives, his, his own, not this thing that felt like half a part of him and half outside his very being-- tearing away from the mass.

Vash screaming in wounded surprise, begging him to stop.

Burying the knife in his leg, through his leg, into the ground, and pulling--

That blade, blazing with holy fire, dragged up up up into the sky, pointing at the heavens--

And then everything was light. 

Everything was light.

And everything

was

gone.

TWO YEARS LATER…

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 6
Eriks

Two years had passed by strangely slowly, and yet strangely fast-- an odd sort of feeling. But time never felt real in this desert, sometimes, when the sand dunes and sky were unchanging as far as the eye could see. 

Time felt even less real, Livio mused as he stepped off the bus in Karsten, when you were seventeen going on thirty.  

He sighed, pulling his busted old lighter from his coat pocket and and lighting a cigarette-- an awful habit, maybe, but he’d started when Nico had left and never stopped; his way of being closer to his brother-- as he pushed his way into the bar. 

Time was a funny thing. But one thing it always did was take things from you. Your childhood, your brother, your innocence. And it never gave any of it back.

He let out a yelp and threw his hands up as all eyes snapped to him as the doors creaked. “Easy! Just here for some food!”

The bartender raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t get off that bus, did you?”

“...yeah?” He said slowly, moving to sit on one of the barstools, tucking his relative bulk easily into the seat and leaning his cross next to him. “That a bad thing?”

“Well, you probably won’t be leaving,” the bartender said dryly, which was punctuated by a very loud explosion in the distance that made him jump. “See, right now the infamous Knives the Reaper and his posse have this place surrounded. Sheriff went to negotiate, came back filled with more steel than a factory. Once you’re here, you aren’t going anywhere.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Knives the Reaper?” He echoed. “Y’think it’s really him?”

The bartender snorted. “Thinking what everyone else is, are you? Knives the Reaper…everyone with any sense runs in the opposite direction when that name comes up. After all, that demon reduced two of the seven cities to ash and disappeared two years ago after the Fifth Moon incident. He had a $$60,000,000 bounty on his head, and was even declared a goddamn natural disaster. They even say he nearly cut one of the moons in half. Who’d believe that?!”

Livio shrugged. “Does sound pretty crazy,” he said mildly, knowing full well that it was all completely true. “But…you’re still sayin’ he’s the one threatenin’ all y’all right now?”

“Exactly,” the bartender said, and then squinted at him. “Anyway, what’s with those crosses you’ve got?”

He smiled. “Name’s Livio,” he said, still after all this time swallowing the urge to tack Nico’s last name onto it. He didn’t deserve that right. “Travelin’ undertaker, at your service.”

“Oh, fantastic!” The bartender said. “We’ve been needing one. Our old minister was just killed, and we really need someone to help us with the funerals.”

Oh, crap.

Ha! Better remember your Lord’s Prayers, Liv.

Oh, shut up, he groaned at Razlo internally. I know enough to get by. 

Just then, the doors crashed open again, and he turned around to see what was going on.

“Eriks, put me down!” A young redhead wailed in outrage, from where she dangled in someone’s arm like a sack of potatoes. “Put me down, I said!”

“Oh, it’s just Lina,” the bartender said, bemused, as the jumpy patrons lowered their guns. 

“Oh, my ass!” She snarled, full of spit and vinegar, kicking her way free and storming up to the bar. “Hey, barkeep, gimme a shot!”

The bartender looked bemused. “What’s going on this time, Lina? Your grandma okay?”

Lina laughed, some of her frustration subsiding, but the man beside her didn’t seem as easy to calm down. Livio gave him a quick once over. Long pale blond hair in a messy ponytail, scruffy, wearing faded jeans and a rumpled white turtleneck, a pair of cracked glasses hiding his eyes. But…when he spoke, he knew that voice, he thought. Knew that beauty mark beneath his right eye.

“Sheryl’s fine,” the man named Eriks said, soft and tired, with a harried tinge to his voice. “But Lina here is getting into trouble as always. You overdid it, this time, you know.”

“Did not! That gross lolicon deserved it!” She snapped.

The bartender froze. “What?!”

“One of those creeps touched my butt!” Lina howled. “He had it coming!”

Livio could not at all say he didn’t completely agree with her. She looked the age some of the kids back home would be, after all. 

The bartender looked distressed, though. “W-What now?” He asked.

Lina shrugged, looking unsure. “Well, I figured if I came in here they wouldn’t find me,” she admitted.

Which was pretty immediately proven wrong, of course, by a cannonball shooting right through the front door and straight through the back wall. 

“Well, shit,” Livio supplied helpfully, lighting another cigarette. He leaned over a bit to see outside, to spot a nasty little toad of a man with a mohawk screaming and shouting about his face…which, impressively enough, had quite a vivid bootprint directly in the center.

Well fuck me, kiddo’s got a mean dropkick, Razlo said approvingly. Get ‘is ass.

On top of that, standing on one of the gang’s trucks, was…well, was apparently Knives the Reaper. The blue coat and blond hair was at least marginally accurate, he supposed, but his face wasn’t even close, and his sunglasses were also wrong and stupid. How anyone could fall for it was anyone’s guess, but…people were scared enough of the guy that you really didn’t need to try very hard.

As the shouting continued, motion caught his eye, and he stiffened slightly as Eriks wordlessly got up and walked outside, his hands raised in surrender.

“W-Wait a minute!” Lina shouted. “Eriks?!"

Eriks stopped in front of the group, tilting his head in acknowledgement, and even from the back he could almost see the small, wry, endlessly sad twist of his lips on that face. “I’m sorry about all this, but I think we’d all really appreciate the bar staying in one piece,” he said quietly, voice tired enough that it could almost drag along the ground if it were physical. “Let’s settle this with no further violence, shall we?”

“I wanted that little brat!” The mohawked toad snarled.

“Well, unfortunately, she’s twelve,” Eriks said, the barest edges of sarcasm touching his voice, like a blade dulled by time. “And you’d kill her. So…she’ll be staying inside.”

He bowed low, deferentially, and the mohawked toad snorted. “You think you’ll get off that easy?! Hey, boss! Mr. Knives the Reaper! Would you give an order to stand down, or what?!”

The man in question-- definitely an impostor, and Livio couldn’t help but feel his trigger finger itch at it-- scoffed. “Let’s see…ah. I think I will-- if he gets naked and begs on hands and knees for me.”

Eriks was quiet. “...you promise that.” He asked, voice low and serious.

Lina let out a scream, and he stood, moving to the window to pull her away. “Don’t look,” he said gently, putting an arm over her eyes even as he fixed his gaze outside at the man before them.

Oh, he was covered in scars. Scars of all kinds, and so many of them as if that battered body had been sliced away at by a million different knives, his right arm a dated prosthetic to the bicep. It hurt to look at, even as he did as was asked and knelt on the ground, bowing low and silently, forehead touching the dirt.

“...alright then,” the not-Knives smirked. “Let’s go, boys.”

The caravan made to drive off, and Eriks stood on shaky legs, but even as he did-- not-Knives drew what was very much not a knife (unless you wanted to count the combat dagger duct taped to it almost as if to emphasize how shitty the attempt was) from his coat and opened fire.

“Eriks!” Lina shrieked in horror as he fell, tearing out of Livio’s arms and into the street. He made to run after her, but before he could even reach her, one of the posse on a bike swept her up in his arms and disappeared with the rest.

“Shit!” He hissed. Well, he’d have to do something about that. His other business…well, he’d say it could wait, but he could always use the backup. 

He hurried to follow the townsfolk as they dragged Eriks up and to the clinic, and as he headed towards the operating room, he caught two of them whispering harshly. 

“Between your pride and fate, what’d you do?” One asked.

The other scoffed. “Stripped down and begging on my knees? No way.”

His cross found itself hitting the wall very hard in between them before he could think about the motion. “That beggin’ saved your miserable lives,” he hissed at them around his cigarette. How could they possibly understand just what it meant that that man had done that for a human’s sake? “So maybe be a little bit more grateful.”

With those bastards sufficiently cowed, he stubbed out his cigarette-- never let it be said he’d forgotten his manners-- and slipped into the operating room to watch the doctors fuss over Eriks, who seemed to be healing on his own, and watch someone-- Lina’s grandmother-- barge in demanding her granddaughter be rescued. 

In the commotion, he snuck over to the hospital bed, peering over the nurse’s shoulder-- and admittedly spooking her in the process, but it wasn’t his fault the procedures had ended up with him built like a tank. “H-Hey, we don’t need an undertaker, he’s going to be fine--”

“Yeah, I know,” he reassured her, reaching over to gently flick Eriks’ forehead. “Hey, need t’talk to you, you mind?”

The doctor startled, and tugged his ear-- owowow. “Leave him be, he needs rest!”

“Oh, doctor!” The nurse gasped, and all eyes flickered to Eriks, who’d cracked his eyes open and looked exhausted, but bemused at the same time.

The doctor gasped, but Livio ignored it, smiling down at those familiar blue eyes. “Hiya,” he said. “Been a bit, huh?”

Eriks sighed. “...sorry, doctor. I need to talk to him in private,” he said quietly. The doctor and nurse looked at each other, then, and slipped away, leaving them alone.

Once they were gone, he sighed in relief, sitting on the edge of the bed and smiling all the wider. “Well, here y’are,” he said. “Been lookin’ for you for a while, y’know. Didn’t expect ya to be the type to settle down like this among humans, Knives. Mr. Legendary Walkin’ Armory an’ all.”

Eriks-- no, Knives let out a bitter little laugh, turning his head away. “Don’t,” he muttered. “Walking Armory is right. That blade could have killed thousands of people, if not more. I’ve had enough of breaking my promise, so when I found myself here…I thought it’d be for the best if Knives just…disappeared.”

He sighed, sitting up, scars all on display. It was painful to look at, but at the same time it made him jealous. Beyond the one on his face, the one from before he became this…he did wish a little bit he could scar. It made the weight he carried feel a little too distant sometimes. “Should have known that would be impossible.” Knives muttered bitterly. “The scent of blood will always follow me, no matter how much I try to pretend otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” Livio said, sincerely. “But us wolves…we can never really stay too long with sheep, in the end. Can we?”

Knives looked at him, as if seeing something for the first time in him-- or really beginning to understand what it might be. “...no,” he said tiredly. “We can’t. Our fangs are too sharp to linger forever.” He sighed. “It’s funny…I was almost getting used to playing human.”

“That’s how it is for us,” Livio said wryly, bitterly, so very understanding. “Those of us with fangs have t’use them. Or else the ones without ‘em get hurt.”

Knives smiled, a bitter slash of his lips as he slid out of bed to get his clothes. “I overheard,” he said. “They have Lina?”

“Yup,” he said. “Was gonna go get her by myself anyway, but…figured you’d wanna help. So I stopped in first.”

“You guessed right,” Knives said, rolling his left sleeve up to reveal his bare, scarred arm. “Let’s go.”

The posse, it turned out, was holed up in an abandoned building just out of town. Good! Less room for collateral, Livio thought, grinning to himself as the pair of them approached.

Not like you’re usin’ the big gun, though, Razlo pointed out, which made him chuckle under his breath. No…that one was for emergencies only.

The other ones, though…he snapped his wrists, once, and his armguards unfolded, the grips of his dual fangs settling comfortably into his hands. 

“I knew those were special,” Knives said dryly. “You really aren’t just an undertaker, are you?”

“Eh,” Livio replied with a grin. “Semantics. Still seein’ em to the other side, yeah?”

Knives snorted. “Semantics,” he echoed, twisting his wrist so that the blades he was named for rippled out of the back of his hand. It was…still creepy, he had to admit, knowing what that body, those blades, were capable of. But somehow, in this place and time, he trusted it.

“Now,” he said. “You gotta know this ain’t gonna be bloodless, right? You gonna hold me to your standards?”

He hoped not. Those were never standards he could live up to.

“Why would I do that?” Knives said, and it felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders. “My promise is my promise, and my choice is my choice. Not yours. Do what you have to do.” He tilted his head slightly, those blue eyes finding his. “I’d be a hypocrite if I said otherwise, with the blood on my own hands. As long as you understand the weight of what you’re doing, I won’t stop you from doing it.”

Livio smiled, tired and sad and feeling so much older than seventeen. “I know the weight,” he said quietly. “Don’t you worry.”

“Then let’s get her back.”

“Right.”

Well, Livio thought after only a few minutes, standing among the wreckage of what was once a building. That had been fun! It was a while since he could let loose, and almost never had he had someone at his back in the process. And now it was just the two of them and the impostor, who had Lina in an arm where he was backed into a corner.

“You can let her go any time now,” Knives said dryly. “The game’s over, idiot.”

“Not a chance!” the impostor snapped. “I’ve made it this far! Don’t you know who I am?!”

“Nah,” Livio said with a wide grin. “Why don’tcha tell us, big man?”

“I’m Knives the Reaper, you asshole!” The impostor howled, to Livio’s cackling laughter and Knives’ own raised eyebrows.

“Really,” he said. 

“Really!!!”

Knives looked down at his hand, and then back up at the impostor, who was pointing his stupid duct-taped knife gun at them. “Funny thing about that,” he said dryly, snapping his hand out like a whip and sending the man screaming backwards, tendrils of sharp something knocking the gun out of his hand and slicing through what he was standing on. “Knives uses knives, you absolute buffoon. I should know-- that’s my name, after all.”

That said, he darted forward to catch Lina as she fell, holding her somewhat awkwardly as she cried and clung to him, and Livio smiled to himself.

Yeah…he was right.

He’d always thought so, back when they met two years ago. The way he acted so standoffish and tough, but carried so much sadness and responsibility on his shoulders. The way he cared, despite it all…it reminded him of Nico.

It made him regret what he’d been sent to do, taste bitter guilt and self-loathing on his tongue, but-- at least, he supposed, the journey there wouldn’t be a bad one.

He had gone with Knives back to Lina’s house to meet her grandma properly-- who reminded him vaguely of Auntie, and was therefore deserving of utmost respect-- and, over some dinner (and some amusement when Ms. Sheryl scolded Knives into eating, since he apparently forgot more often than not) he explained the situation.

“So what do you need me so badly for?” Knives asked, picking at his pasta. 

He swallowed his own mouthful. “M’still sorry. Wouldn’ta bothered you if I didn’t need you,” he began. “But-- y’see, ever heard of a town called Carcasses? Six months ago, everyone in the whole town just up an’ vanished. Gone without a trace. Weirder, it was like they up an’ vanished in the middle of stuff-- laundry still hangin’, coffee still on tables, all that. No one found anythin’ out of the ordinary at all, an’ not a trace of any man, woman, or child. Only…” He trailed off.

“Only…on the monument in the central plaza, someone had written one word on it in red paint,” he said. “Angel.”

He watched Knives’ expression change instantly. Eyes wide, face pale, sharp inhaled breath, and then he closed his eyes. “Vash.”

“Yeah,” Livio said. “The one they call th’ Angel of Mercy’s on the move. An’ I’m bettin’ he left that message for you, too.”

Knives exhaled slowly, and those sharp blue eyes found his. “...Livio,” he said. “How do you know all this, about the both of us?”

He winced. “...I’ll tell ya in due time,” he promised, tasting that guilt again. “Jus’...for now think of it as a personal thing, s’all. Call it my own sorta vendetta.” He stood sharply, ignoring Razlo’s jibes at his cowardice. “I’ll be stayin’ in town. Lemme know when ya decide you’re ready t’head out.”

And so, three days later-- give or take that nasty little toad coming by for a rematch and getting a heavy steel-toed boot to the head and some colorful death threats if he didn’t take care of the town, courtesy of Knives, for his trouble-- they were ready to go.

He couldn’t help but notice, he thought, eyeing Knives’ freshly cut hair…that there was almost as much black in the roots as there was blond, now. What did that mean?

Nonetheless, he couldn’t also help but feel guilty. Ms Sheryl hadn’t been too happy with him taking Knives away-- they’d treated him like family, seen him that way, and even with what little he knew about the man…he wished he didn’t have to pull him away from what might have been the first taste of normalcy he’d ever had. The first chance to live like a human, without any burdens, past or future. Just the day to day. And now…he was taking him away from that, and walking him right into Hell. He really was an undertaker, wasn’t he?

Knives looked sad, too, as they put Karsten behind them, eyes distant in thought.

“...you gonna be okay, Knives?” He asked him.

Knives looked over at him quietly. “...I will be,” he said. “A life like that was never meant for me. I can pretend all I like, but I will never be one of them, nor do I want to be. Though...I can’t say it wasn’t all bad.” He faltered somewhat, pressing a hand to his chest. “They were able to remind me that humans can be kind, sometimes, giving all they have without expecting anything in return.” 

That smile, rare and beautiful, appeared on his face. “It’s been long enough, I’d almost forgotten. That people like that exist. I…can never appreciate them enough, when I meet them. They’re the reason I keep my promise.”

…sometimes he it was hard to remember the man beside him wasn’t human, Livio thought. But…that sad smile on his face, that softer, purer one as he spoke of the people that were the reason he tried not to give in and bare his fangs at humanity…it was easy to forget. The man that had sliced a scar down the middle of the moon was a monster beyond all reckoning, and his brother was just as bad, a smiling angel in all the most Biblically terrifying ways--

But the man walking beside him away from peace and once again towards violence…that was just a man.

He’d never forgive himself for being this man’s gravedigger, he thought-- but…but there was a fragile beauty in getting to see him off like this, wasn’t there?

He’d have to treasure that.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 7
Sin

After only a couple weeks traveling with Knives, Livio had come to realize that if anything about the legends were true, it was definitely the part about nothing ever being normal around him.

The very first town they’d gotten to, someone from Bernardelli-- not the two girls Knives had been traveling with, which had irritated him instantly as he’d apparently decided he’d liked them-- had turned up…and both of their instincts had been pretty quickly proven right as he’d almost immediately tried to kill him,

He’d been taken out somehow (well, he had his suspicions) without much input from them, at least, and he admittedly wasn’t at all sorry about letting Razlo sneak by the jackass’s hospital room with a bottle of hot sauce and ill intentions. He deserved it, and it wasn’t like they’d killed him or anything.

The town they’d ended up in after was on Knives’ request-- he’d heard they’d excavated an intact plant a year earlier from some ruins of one of the ships from the Big Fall, and immediately had made a detour. While he still wasn’t entirely sure what he and his brother were, especially since their Angel of Mercy only ever called himself, well, an angel…it was easy to tell they had some kind of ties to plants. And it was easy to tell just how much Knives loved those things, strange and alien as they were. 

Not that Livio couldn’t understand it-- not when the look on his companion’s face as he talked about the plants was the same one he knew he’d get when thinking about the orphanage. Whatever those strange creatures were, the ones they relied on to survive…to Knives, they were family.

He couldn’t help but realize that had him understand something else, too. The idea of your brother being somewhere so far away, somewhere you couldn’t reach…feeling like you had a part to play in that distance, feeling like it was your fault somehow for not being able to help…he couldn’t help but think that Knives felt that way, too. After all, it was his own brother they were hunting. His own brother, who still seemed to love him in his twisted way.

Unfortunately, though, the plant in question-- when they got into town-- had ended up the subject of a massive feud between two families. Because of course it was. Nothing anywhere near the path of Knives the Reaper was normal and calm, after all.

“Humans,” Knives sighed, where they were both sitting in his hotel room. “They’ll always pick the path of the most conflict. You said it was escalating?”

He sighed too, lighting a cigarette and absently fidgeting with his lighter, flipping the dented brass thing in his hand without thinking-- muscle memory, by now, the sight and motions of it burned into him like the scar on his face, but far less painful. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Started out jus’ the two families, but then the rest of th’ townsfolk got roped into it. Had a chat with this town’s own undertaker, an’ the body count’s high as hell.”

Knives hissed a breath. “Over a plant,” he muttered. “She’d hate to know that.”

Would she? He sounded so confident in that. “It’s gettin’ pretty messy, so if y’wanna try an’ see it-- uh, her-- we should get on with that quicklike and get outta here. Yeah?” 

Knives’ face twisted in discomfort, leaning back against the wall where he sat cross-legged on the bed. “We should,” he agreed. “But…” 

“But?”

He didn’t finish the sentence, instead just closing his eyes, and they sat in silence like that for a while. 

The next day, they did just that-- headed out to where they kept the plant, and he kept watch while Knives snuck inside and did…whatever he was doing. Making sure she was okay? Saying hi? Having a family reunion? He didn’t really know, but it did occur to him how easily he’d gone from thinking of plants as it to she. 

By the time Knives had come back, he’d smoked through half a pack-- really, really bad habit, that was, Auntie would kill him, not to mention the masochism of it all given his scar-- and he had some vain hope that’d mean they’d get out of here fast before anything blew up.

He really shouldn’t jinx things like that, should he?

When they’d gotten back into town, someone had called out to them-- at least, he thought they did. The name didn’t sound right.

“Nai!”

Knives had jumped, and then turned, and the expression his face-- usually so distractedly irritable, barely hiding the sadness he wore like a funeral shroud-- shifted into something almost like relief, his shoulders relaxing. “Brad!”

The man who jogged up to them was wearing a leather jacket, looking old enough to be someone’s dad, with dark blond hair just starting to grey and some freckles across his nose. “We’d heard there were sightings of you again,” he said, sounding just as relieved, if not a little aggravated. “I’ve been looking for you, idiot. Glad I thought to check this place when we heard about the plant. You’re at least still that predictable.”

Knives-- he looked almost like he’d gone red, almost sheepish. “...right. I must have worried everyone again.”

“No kidding,” Brad said, smacking him upside the head-- and he let him!-- and huffing. “You never get in touch, you forget to visit, and now you up and go missing for two years after that mess? What goes through your head sometimes?”

“Nothing good,” Knives said, though he still seemed relaxed, though his expression shifted to regret, something bitter and pained in it. “I’m sorry. I’ve always given you so much trouble.”

“Hey, we knew what we were getting into a long time ago with you,” Brad told him, this time reaching out to ruffle his hair, and Livio started to realize who this man was to him. “You’re an exasperating little ball of spikes, but you’re ours.” He stepped back to give him a once-over. “And you’re a wreck. Honestly. What is that arm, a decade out of date?”

“Be nice, it was a pretty backwater town, and at least I have one,” Knives said with a laugh. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a new one in your back pocket?”

“Actually I do,” Brad said with a grin, lifting the case they both just noticed he was holding. “What, you think I was hunting you down without precautions?”

“Oh,” Knives said, and then smiled that rare smile of his, small and precious. “Thanks.” He turned to Livio. “Mind giving us some time? Switching it out might take a while with this one, he’s a perfectionist.”

“When you keep breaking them--” Brad huffed, but then his gaze drew sharply to Livio, who immediately felt like he was meeting the parents in a very weird way. “And you are?”

“Uh,” he said, feeling put on the spot. “Livio?” 

Knives snorted. “He’s traveling with me for now,” he said. “I actually don’t mind his company so far, and you know how rare that is.”

“Damn, sure is,” Brad said, immediately softening. “Nice to meet you, Livio. Name’s Brad; you can think of me as this one’s--” He ruffled Knives’ hair aggressively again, much to the man’s irritated protests. “--grumpy uncle.”

He smiled. That said a lot, and he was glad for it, even if the trust just given to him made him feel like shit. “Well, nice t’meet you too, Brad! I’ll let you two handle the arm stuff an’ go find somethin’ to eat, yeah? Meet you at the hotel.”

“Alright. Meet you there later,” Knives said, and the two disappeared into the crowd.

He’d hoped that’d be everything, but…well, obviously, it wasn’t.

It wasn’t an hour later that the inevitable explosion rocked the town, and he sighed heavily, tossing some double dollars on the table for his lunch and taking off to see what happened. 

And as usual, it wasn’t anything good. An armored car had rammed the steamer that had pulled in earlier, and apparently one of the passengers on said steamer was a member of one of the two feuding families. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots…and the yelling both from the militia and the hijackers and extra explosions sort of helped, too, he supposed. 

“Jeez,” he groaned. “Always somethin’, isn’t it?”

“It really is,” came a voice behind him. “Can’t I just have one day of peace and quiet?”

He jumped and spun, and there-- Knives. The Knives he remembered from that day two years ago, no less-- Brad had clearly brought more than just a new arm, as a just as new blue coat sat on his shoulders. “Kni--”

“Wait here,” Knives told him, shouldering through the crowd. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You wi-- wait a minute!” He yelped. “What happened t’gettin’ outta here?!”

He paused, and threw a tired look over his shoulder. “I would if I could. But my conscience tells me I can’t let this go, even if every other part of me wants to walk away. At the very least, I can keep it from getting too much worse.”

That said, he took off running towards the steamer, people scattering out of his path when they spotted that coat, blue as the tanks the plants sat in and flaring behind him as he moved.

“What even…” He said quietly, before he felt someone beside him.

“That’s our Nai,” Brad said. “He’s always been a knot of contradictions. He’ll talk until the cows come home about how much he disdains us humans, how violent and unpleasant we are, but when it comes down to it, he’ll always stick his neck out for us anyway. Grumbling the whole time, but he’ll do it.”

Livio laughed. “He reminds me of someone, a little,” he admitted. “They always act tough and standoffish, but they’ve got good hearts.”

“He’d be the first one to deny that,” Brad said ruefully. “He doesn’t think all that highly of himself, but he’s never been able to see himself clearly, the way we do.”

There was still so much he didn’t know about Knives the Reaper. Where that sadness came from, why he had promised himself never to kill, even if he struggled to keep that promise. Why he hated humanity so much, yet fought for their sake anyway. Why his brother was so lost in that terrifying, loving madness, with his smile that sent your fingers nerveless and heart thundering even as he seemed to sincerely think he meant no harm. Where they’d come from, just how they were connected to the plants Knives loved so much.

But…an hour later, when the hijackers were being led out of the steamer, and Knives was among them, blood smeared under his nose and a bruise forming over one eye, and looking like he’d fought a war in his own head and won, for once-- he did know that he wasn’t like anybody else on this planet.

“He’s really somethin’,” he admitted to Brad. “You ain’t wrong about how contradictory he can be. He was jus’ complainin’ earlier about this whole feud over the plant bein’ stupid, but he goes an’ gets himself involved anyway, an’ not even for the plant but for the people.”

“He told me once,” Brad said. “That someone he loved loved humanity more than anything, had faith in the good they were capable of. She believed in him when he almost gave into his hatred of us. So no matter how he feels, he tries to believe in us for her sake.”

“He’s way more sentimental than he thinks he is, isn’t he?” Livio said softly. “It’s kinda sweet.”

“He’d hate being called sweet,” Brad laughed. “But I’ll leave you two to it. But tell him he’d better get his ass Home to visit us sometime soon, yeah? He’s been missed.”

Something in that twisted his heart tightly, thinking of church bells and smiling little faces, and he blinked back tears before they could form. “...yeah,” he promised. “I’ll tell him.”

He really hoped Brad wasn’t staring at his back too hard when he fled, Razlo grumbling at him fondly once again for being a crybaby. But he couldn’t help it. He’s…he really was glad Knives has someplace like that, even if he didn’t seem to want to admit that’s what it was to him out loud. He was. But still…still, he hated how jealous it made him feel. He couldn’t get rid of that ugly feeling, even now. At least, he let himself think, Knives can go home.

But he wouldn’t hold that against him.

He’d have to wait until the evening to jailbreak him-- which Razlo found hilarious, of course, because he would think a jailbreak, even at a tiny little sheriff’s office, was extremely fun -- but in the meantime, he listened. 

The old man he’d seen crying as they were all led out, he learned, had lost his daughter to the rival family member he’d taken hostage. He wondered, then-- at the man’s tears, at the fact that the guy was still alive. At the bruises on Knives’ face. 

But maybe it wasn’t his place to do more than wonder.

Even so, that night-- after Razlo had talked him (with very little effort) into getting a new bike and crashing it into the jail for the dramatics of it all-- after they’d driven off into the desert, he asked.

“What happened in there, anyway?”

“...stopped that old man from killing someone, that’s all,” Knives said quietly. 

“Heard that guy killed his daughter,” he said, hoping it came off as innocently as he was trying to sound, instead of blatantly fishing for more.

“He did,” Knives said. “And…” A long, soft exhale. “Revenge never makes anyone feel better. All it leaves you with is blood on your hands and a void inside you. It doesn’t bring anyone back, or undo the damage. I just…didn’t want anyone else to feel that way.”

…he really wasn’t like anyone else on this planet, was he?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 8
Samurai Showdown

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive for a while?” 

Livio laughed. “Nah, I like drivin’,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Nai sighed, settling back into the sidecar. It was a bit uncomfortable and a little embarrassing to cram himself in here, but he supposed the alternative was clinging to Livio’s broad back, and that…was probably just as bad. 

Silence reigned for a bit longer, and then Nai exhaled. “So where are we headed?”

“Tonim,” Livio replied, staring straight ahead at the desert. “Nearest town that’s got hit with those disappearances I told you about. With th’ word Angel left behind on th’ town square.”

“Right,” Nai said, and glanced over at him. “You never did explain how you know about Vash.”

Livio didn’t answer, and he let it go. He supposed that whatever ulterior motives the so-called undertaker had, he didn’t really mind them. Not when he could see the lines of guilt creasing his face-- he really was too emotional for his own good, this new companion of his. Too open. It was something he found…he didn't mind that much.

They pulled up to town eventually, and it was indeed terribly quiet. Terribly empty. A yawning silence, haunting and eerie. And the town square, when they got there-- there it was, scrawled on the monument in the center. Angel. A message, a warning, an invitation.

And in front of the monument stood a man. 

He looked-- he looked like a samurai from one of the movies they’d watched as kids on the ship, Nai thought. He’d liked those back then, he thought wryly. The westerns, the samurai movies. The ones filled with adventure and action. How little he’d known, then, how like them his life would become.

Vash had liked cartoons, he reflected absently. Romances and cartoons. And…in a way, in his madness, that had become his life, too. A twisted, childish, all-consuming love.

“We meet again,” the samurai said. “My name is Raidei-- Gung-Ho Guns number nine, Raidei the Blade.”

He sighed. “Gung-Ho Guns…so, that bastard’s game is still on?”

“Indeed,” Raidei replied, but then his eyes snapped to Livio at his side, who had gone quiet. “...it’s you,” he noted. “Very well. Whatever your plan is, you will not interfere in our deathmatch.”

“...really?” He asked. “Are all of you being paid to be this dramatic?”

Livio stifled a snort, even as he stepped to the side to lean himself and that cross he never seemed to use against a nearby building and light a cigarette with that old, dented lighter he carried.

“I know all about your hypocrisy, Knives the Reaper,” Raidei said, shifting into a draw stance. “I am not here to play. Come at me.”

…he can’t believe he’s doing this, he thought, as he called a knife from his pulse point instead of the back of his hand, extending it long enough to match his opponent’s sword and allow him to mime holding it, even if it cut into his palm slightly.

“Fine,” he said lightly. “I’ll be a kid again for a minute. I always have wanted to have a proper samurai duel.”

Raidei seemed startled, but then his eyes narrowed, glittering in interest and intensity. “Aye,” he said, fingers curling tighter on the hilt of his blade. “A proper duel it is-- good, you have honor, at least. I will allow that much, Reaper.” 

And then he was on him-- how was he moving so fast?! He was lucky his reflexes were so good, as their blades clashed with ringing steel and he leapt back to gain his bearings. But there was no time for that, and they locked in a dance, Nai refusing to back down and somehow keeping up with Raidei’s blows. 

Eventually they broke apart, Nai breathing heavily as Raidei’s eyes blazed.

“Glorious!” He cried. “My very spirit is afire!”

“Glad you’re having fun,” he panted-- though he couldn't say he wasn’t, either.

“Clearly, with your skill, I can ill afford to take my time,” Raidei said. “Allow me to explain my purpose for being here-- my lord angel believes that you are in need of a lesson, Reaper. The consequences of your ill will towards humans. For so long as you continue to resent and hate, we will come for you. We will come and we will bring you the hatred and resentment you show to us, until you learn to extend your hand, not that blade of yours, and walk with the angel unto our Nirvana.”

He felt as if a cold hand had wrapped itself around his heart, a lead weight in his stomach, and he swallowed, his mouth dry.

“…what?” He managed. “The…consequences of my…”

“Indeed,” Raidei said, deadly serious. “Hatred begets hatred, and violence begets violence. You will never know peace until you accept love, as he has. Until that time, we will hunt you with everything we have.”

That-- Vash…how did he not realize? How did he not realize that his love wasn’t love at all? It was delusional indulgence, an acceptance of humanity’s sins by covering his eyes and ears to it all and seeing only what he wanted to see. Judging them by refusing to judge at all. Allowing them to just do whatever they wanted under some blind unconditional adoration that reduced these people, reduced humans, to-- to a shapeless, formless, identityless thing, loved as a whole for existing alone and not bothering to try beyond that.

He resented humans, yes, hated them. He didn’t judge because he had no right to-- he was no better. No angel above them. Felt the same ugly things they did. And maybe he could never change that. Maybe he too had fallen into the trap of seeing them as a shapeless whole, a mass only deserving of his disdain and mistrust and anger. 

But-- but he tried. He tried…and it seemed that for Vash, trying wasn't enough.

“We have,” Raidei continued, “determined the location of that place you refer to as Home.”

…Home?

 Vash would--

No.

“Ah,” Raidei said, as the air seemed to ripple around them with the promise of an approaching storm. “Perhaps I should have said that sooner.”

“Get out of my way,” he snarled, vision greying at the edges. 

“I cannot,” Raidei said. “I have come here to fight you to the death. And I will have my satisfaction."

“Enough!” He roared it, hand so tight around the base of his blade it was dripping blood in splatters. “Shut up and move!”

“I will not. If you wish me to do so, then kill me. Step over my body towards your destination.” Raidei sheathed his blade and shifted his stance again. “Let us settle this with our next clash. I, Raidei the Blade of the Jigenzan Ittou-ryu, will show you the ultimate technique.”

Distantly, the rest of the world already so far away, he heard the click of Livio’s guns. 

“Do not interfere,” Raidei said. “That kind of killing no longer holds interest to me, undertaker.” He spat the word with bemusement, like he knew it was false. “This opportunity will not come to me again-- the chance to kill something that is not human.”

He didn’t waste time, then. He didn’t care what Livio did. He didn’t hear any more, if the other man said anything. He didn’t hear if Raidei spoke further.

They were in danger. Vash would stoop so low as to punish him like that?

To take away the first humans since Rem who had-- to punish him for his hypocrisy--? To force him to stand down, to-- to make it seem like their blood too would be on his hands, all for the feelings he struggled to change? All or nothing, was that it?

No.

He wouldn’t allow it.

Not them. Not them, who had been innocent.

It was a gunshot that snapped him from his haze.

As his vision cleared, the fog ebbing away, he found himself on his knees, his hand bleeding, his body marked by yet more slashes and cuts that he hadn’t even felt himself get. Blood covered his blue coat, halfway coloring it red. 

And in front of him was Raidei’s corpse. 

His breath hitched, heart seizing-- but then he saw the rest of the scene. 

Raidei was dead, facedown on the dirt with his hand curled around his blade…and Livio stood over him, gun in hand, muzzle still smoking.

“...Livio…?”

The undertaker didn’t look at him. “You didn’t kill him,” he said simply, letting the gun collapse back into its dormant cross. “I did.”

His breath hitched again. 

“You...?”

“You promised, didn’t you?” Livio said, still staring down at the body at his feet. “Not to kill anyone. So I did it for you, before you could slip up.”

…he’d killed him. He’d killed Raidei, so that the blood would be on his hands instead. So that he wouldn’t…so that his anger, his blind rage, wouldn’t take anyone’s life while he couldn’t stop himself.

He thought, distantly, starting to tremble, that that was perhaps the kindest thing anyone had ever done.

“Hey-- hey,” Livio said, finally looking over at him and coming over to kneel in front of him, slowly prying his fingers from around his blade. “You’re hurtin’ yourself. Put that back in, yeah?”

He let the blade slip back into his skin, and tipped forward. His vision was greying for a different reason this time, and Livio yelped. “Shit-- shit, you got cut up bad, Knives, hold on--”

“Thank you,” he whispered, letting the much larger man gather him up. “Thank you.”

Livio laughed, hollow and bitter, the sound of someone who had dug countless graves. “Don’t thank me for doin’ my job,” he said quietly. “You don’t thank an attack dog for bitin’. I got enough blood on my hands for us both…I don’t mind addin’ more so you don’t have to.”

“...I will anyway,” he murmured. “I never asked…anyone else to carry my sins.”

“Neither did I,” he said. “But everyone always takes ‘em from me anyway. If I’m gonna be a sinner, I’m gonna carry that weight myself.” He thought he felt a tear drip on his face from above, from Livio’s cheek. “Maybe I’ll run the world red with blood one day, but the hands that do it’ll be mine and mine alone. I don’t need anyone else to turn into a wolf for my sake. I’ve made enough people do that already. I’m not tryin’ to take yours from you-- I’m selfishly just choosin’ to make them mine instead.”

There was a story behind those words, one soaked in pain-- but he wasn’t in any shape to ask.

He was surprised at himself for wanting to.

“...I’m already a wolf, Livio,” he said quietly instead, eyes falling closed. “But…” 

But-- it was the first time someone else had acted the wolf for his sake.

This man…this man, baring his fangs so that he could fight for his own sake, refusing to let anyone protect him or sully themselves in his name…who laughed and smiled easily, but cried just as quickly. What did he carry? 

“...do you cry for everyone you kill, undertaker…?” 

Livio swallowed a sob, and he couldn’t see the expression on his face. 

“Only so that I don’t forget how t’cry,” he said softly. “I don’t want to lose that part of me. The last part of me that’s still who I used t’be. He…might not recognize me anymore, if I do.”

He? 

“Besides…aren’t you supposed to cry at funerals?” Livio added. “If no one else does, I will. Means I’m still human.”

Still human…

No, he thought, finally passing out. Livio was incredibly human. In all the best and worst ways both.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 9
Home Sweet Home

Livio! Livio! Liv, you’re home! You came home!

Welcome back! Did your work go well, did you find Nico?!

Haha, hey, c’mon, not all at once! Are you guys doin’ okay? Are you bein’ good for Auntie?

Yeah, yeah, we are! C’mon, Livio, pick me up! Livio, you’re so big, can we climb on you? Livio! Livio! Have you found Nico?

Guys, I…

I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I-- I-- 

I know I’m not the one you all really want to see. I’m sorry, I couldn’t…

I’m even more of a monster now. And I couldn’t bring the one you really love home, either. So please, don’t…pretend you want these bloodstained hands to hold you.

I…no, we aren’t worth that.

Thank the Lord for the kindness of strangers, Livio thought once again.

After the fight at Tonim, he’d loaded the unconscious Knives into the sidecar and took off, praying for an inhabited town sometime soon-- and in the end it had taken five, or maybe six days of him driving nonstop to find one. He’d ended up collapsing in the hotel lobby from exhaustion, having dragged Knives in with him and begged the stunned innkeep to help him, considering all he’d managed to do was haphazardly bandage up the wounds from Raidei with scraps he’d dug up from their things.

He…thought he’d helped the innkeep and his son with an issue with debtors? He couldn’t quite remember, given the heat exhaustion had him delirious, and Razlo hadn’t been much better off to fill him in. but they had let the two of them stay for free after, and they’d after a good night’s rest and some food they rushed off the next day towards where Knives said Home was.

Home…

Sometimes he thought he loved it more than it loved him, the orphanage. 

Razlo shuddered at the thought, as he always did; six years later and he still blamed himself for what happened. They both did, always would, but he knew that it had been what had changed things for his other half and protector. 

Sometimes he wished that Nico hadn’t stopped him from running. Maybe…maybe things would have been different.  

Maybe Nico would still be there. Maybe no one would have missed him, and he could have let himself disappear entirely. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But that wasn’t what happened. And maybe the only good thing about that was that he still had himself. That he hadn’t let Chapel get into his head, that Razlo hadn’t. Because even if they could never go back, never bring themselves to return to the one place they thought of as home-- the place they had terrorized for so long, who probably never wanted to see him again, not after it was his fault their beloved big brother had left-- they still had Nico.

And it was for Nico they fought. For Nico, they killed. For Nico, they held onto what was left of their soul.

“Livio, we’re here,” Knives called, and he shook himself out of his thoughts. They were on the border of one of the sand seas, and he followed Knives onto the cable car he indicated, leaning against the window.

He was glad Knives recovered quickly, he mused. He still seemed exhausted from the fight, but his wounds had at least closed up. More than that, though, the anxiety still rippled off of him in waves, and he didn’t blame him in the least for that.

“So, this-- this Home, it’s where Brad’s from, isn’t it?” He asked. “What exactly’s your history with ‘em?”

“...a long time ago, they found me nearly dead,” Knives explained slowly, his eyes distant in memory. “They took me in and put me back together, and put up with how much of an ungrateful little bastard I was at the time. They…” He looked out the window through the sandy winds and thick fog around them. “They’re the first humans since the woman who raised me that I felt like I could trust. Even now…this really is the closest place to anywhere I feel safe, on this planet. I owe them for how far I’ve come since then.”

Livio smiled softly. “I understand the feelin’,” he admitted. “The orphanage I grew up in…I ended up bein’ a pretty wild little shit, most of my time there. I gave the matron so much hell. But I owe them everything.”

They fell silent, a mutual understanding passing between them, and then the mists parted, and--

“Holy shit,” he gasped, pressing against the window. “Is that a ship?! A real one?!”

It sure looked like one-- almost completely intact, unlike the ruins of others that towns had sprung out of and around. It was massive, standing there tall and proud in the midst of the wild storm around it.

“It is,” Knives said, sagging a little almost in relief to see it. “Thanks to the sand sea, its gravity plant is able to keep the whole thing afloat. That’s how she’s kept it hidden all this time, too.”

“That’s…” That was incredible. An entire ship, from the Big Fall…what kind of place was it inside?

The cable car came to a stop and Knives leapt from it, dashing towards the door with Livio hot on his heels. The doors were huge, and opened slowly, and the sight within--

He’d never seen so much green in his life. Grass stretching to the far end of the huge room they were in, a-- a tree curling up in the center of it. Spots of color he thought must be those things called flowers you hear about in the oldest fairytales. 

And people. A ball rolled up to tap against Knives’ foot, a little boy running to fetch it, and an older woman spotted him, lighting up. “Nai!” She called-- so they knew that weird nickname Brad used, too?-- “You came to visit! Oh, it’s been years, what brings you here?!”

Knives swallowed, halfway in a crouch to pick the boy’s ball up. “S--Sandra,” he said. “I--” He looked halfway between devastatingly relieved and tense, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Now, don’t you make that face,” the woman scolded. “We’ve been worried sick about you, you know! Don’t scare us like that!”

She turned, calling out to the room. “Everyone! Nai’s back!”

It was almost a town’s worth of people rushing over to them, Livio thought, men and women of all ages, laughing and crowding around Knives, who looked near tears, lips twitching as if unsure whether he could let himself smile. The conversation was loud and raucous and friendly, and for a moment…for a moment Livio relaxed as well. 

And then every single person around them shattered into pieces.

Livio froze. What-- for a moment, he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. Did they just-- what was--

“Welcome, audience, to the puppet show!” An old man’s voice called from further into the room, and his gaze snapped that direction. Oh. Shit.

Leonof.

“Gung-Ho Guns number four, Leonof the Puppetmaster,” the old man gloated, bowing. “Please, enjoy my performance, Knives the Reaper! And what a magnificent audience you are! Merely with my artful technique, I am able to pull such glorious expressions of emotion from your face! Truly wonderful! I--”

Livio didn’t let him finish, double fangs in his hands as he opened fire. “You sick son of a bitch!” He snarled, blood boiling with rage.

This was Knives’ home. Those were his family. And this bastard had come in here and trampled it, trampled them! The idea of-- the very idea of--

The puppet before Leonof crumbled, but he was untouched. “Ha!” The old man scoffed. “You have to do better than that, undertaker. You merely damaged Unica.”

“Shit--”

“Allow me to give you one lesson; my technique is not something so easily dismissed, boy! these bodies, one by one, might be defeated easily, but…” Oh. Oh shit, he thought again, as the scattered pieces of puppet bodies gathered together into something horrific, something giant. “When combined, the finished product is almost as a god! For the reason, all may join together to become the model, changing the very nature of their existence! Meaning that they become a work of fine art, you see!”

That--

Before he could speak, before he could shoot, that feeling again. Like a storm about to let loose, the oppressive feeling of lightning about to strike. Powerful, terrible. Like the Angel, but full of teeth and claws, a wolf rising to its haunches and opening its jaws to howl. 

He looked behind him.

Knives stood there, and tears were running down his face. But that face-- it was twisted in a rage he had never before seen on him. A rage unlike anything a human could manifest, a rage that made his anger at Raidei look like nothing.

Now, he thought shakily, he knew why he was meant to be a natural disaster. He couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. Even Razlo was frozen, fighting the urge to roll over and bare his throat in surrender. It felt like those fangs were sinking into his own flesh, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

No-- no, this man before him wasn’t human. Couldn’t be.

For the first time, Livio was scared of him.

And then Knives screamed.

It was not a human sound. No, he hadn’t heard anything like it-- it shook him down to the soul, as blades burst from Knives’ arm and back both and he launched towards Leonof with the fury of an avenging angel.

Even as he did that, the ground rippled and exploded below him, and he had enough time only to swear as a giant hand came up around him and dragged him down, down, away from his companion’s fury.

He fell, and fell, and-- recognized the giant he fell towards. Ninelives.

Well, fine then, he thought, and bared his fangs, opening fire with a howl of his own.

“If y’wanna go, then let’s go!” He roared. “I’ll tear you apart!”

Whatever it took. Whatever it took, he’d protect this man’s home.

Landing, he took off down metal hallways, footsteps ringing. That had to have killed him, that amount of bullets to the face-- but Ninelives was supposedly immortal, and he knew it wasn’t over yet. So he’d just have to lead the thing away from where Knives was fighting, and take it down. 

He paused to catch his breath, pulling out his-- Nico’s-- lighter and tossing it lightly in the air, flipping it in the way he’d been taught when they were little, before they had lost everything, before pressing it to his forehead. “...we won’t let you down,” he murmured quietly, and then lit himself a cigarette. 

When he did, in a fight like this, he liked to pretend his brother was watching him.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind him and he turned, grinning around the cig between his teeth like a wolf. “There y’are,” he said, drawing his fangs again. “May this bloody undertaker see y’to your grave once an’ for all.”

“Traitor!” Ninelives roared, a cacophony of different voices ringing out the same words slightly out of time. “Traitor! Unforgivable!” 

He laughed, letting his cigarette fall. “Been called worse,” he said. “An’ this is my business. So suck it up and die for me real nice, will ya?”

He opened fire, then, running even as Ninelives charged him, not letting up the onslaught as the giant coming at him didn’t even pause, blood splattering everywhere as he got closer and closer-- come on, come on; was this thing really immortal, too?!

One moment’s distraction was all it took, and the heavy metal gauntlet slammed into him, cracking ribs and sending him flying-- the cannonfire it let loose from the gauntlet nearly tore into his side, too, and he skidded against the floor hard, cross on his back clattering heavily to the floor a few feet away.

He coughed some blood as his bones knitted back, staggering upright. “Gotta do better than that,” he urged, baring his teeth. “Come on, come on!”

It shot at him again, and this time he whipped his own double fangs up and fired to meet it, the shell exploding between them and sending him skidding back even as Ninelives bellowed threats at him again as it charged, blood spurting from the dozens of holes he’d made in its body.

Closer, closer, come on-- there!

It lunged at him, arm outstretched, and he fired again-- sending the blast doors between them slamming down on its arm, crushing flesh and blonde and sending the limb spinning bloodily across the floor. He laughed breathlessly as he watched it twitch and go still. “O Father who art in Heaven, an’ all that,” he huffed out. “See you in Hell.”

Now that hadn’t been so bad--

And then the blast door was ripped open.

You just had t’say somethin!

“Shut up, Razlo,” he hissed, leaping backwards to open fire as soon as he saw blood and torn flesh behind metal. Slowly, he edged toward the fallen cross. He didn’t want to need it, and yet--

Smoke billowed from Ninelives’ body, more and more shredded and torn apart, bones visible and guts pouring out from its guts as he emptied more and more bullets into it. It grew more and more twisted, more inhuman-- and those empty eyes still remained fixed on him, hideous alien mouth baring too many teeth.

“Die already!” He snarled at it, sweat dripping down his face as it approached, unrelenting. Closer, closer--

Click.

“Shit!” He swore loudly, his voice echoing Razlo’s, and in that moment, that single moment, Ninelives grabbed him by the throat. His fingers, big enough to wrap around face and shoulders, digging into his flesh, cracking bone, crushing it, squeezing his skull-- he felt his body creak and break, his breath guttering out.

And then Ninelives picked him up, dangling him off the floor-- before slamming him down into the ground hard enough to crack it. And then up, up into the ceiling. And the floor again, and then the ceiling, like a vicious, bloody yo-yo.

Flesh tore, bones broke, and for a moment-- for a moment he blacked out. For a moment, that sweet brief death took him--

But just for a moment.

Just for a moment, before his body recalled it had been turned into something less than human.

And before someone else decided it was time to step in.

Ninelives froze mid-gesture, a moment’s surprised pause, as laughter began emanating from his closed fist, and then a leg previously shattered swung up, kicking off his thick wrist as arms that had just been dangling uselessly shoved the man who should be dead free. 

And he was laughing.

Golden eyes seemed almost to glow, pupils so small they were nearly invisible as he skidded in the puddle of his own blood.

“Oh, yer fuckin’ vicious, ain’tcha!” The man that had been Livio until a few moments ago crowed. “Nasty piece o’work! It ain’t every day I get to come out an’ play!”

Ninelives blinked, still momentarily taken aback, and the man grinned wide, feral and unhinged, a wolf with a hyena smile.

“Hi,” Razlo said. “I’m the fuckin’ emergency.”

With a swift gesture he stomped hard on the short end of the cross still on the floor, kicking it up into the air and catching it one-handed, the other one ripping the cloth off to reveal a massive machine gun, settling firmly onto his shoulder.

“Lucky for ya, dipshit,” he said. “Hard t’carry three of these puppies around incognito. So’s you just get one today.”

His gaze fixed on the gaping hole in Ninelives’ chest, many pairs of tiny little eyes peering from it. “Ain’t gonna pray for ya-- I ain’t no priest, an’ I ain’t no undertaker. That’s Liv’s thing.”

“All I’m gonna do is kill ya.”

With that, and a vicious wink, he flipped the gun around, the short end opening as a missile fired point blank into that hollow chest, sending him crashing into and cratering the wall behind him.

He slid down it, letting the cross-- his Punisher-- fall from his hand with a shaky breath. “Hoogh,” Razlo hissed out. “Thank me later, Liv…an’ please, stay the fuck dead this time.”

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, exhaustion gripping him-- but he forced them open, watching the owners of those tiny eyes crawl out of the ruins of the giant. Nasty, twisted little things. He blinked, and then started laughing again.

“Aw, fuck nah,” he croaked, and launched himself forward, snatching at the little creatures with his bare hands, punching and clawing and slamming them into the floor instead, wild and frenzied, breath coming frantic and ragged. “Die already! Fuckin’ die! Ya pieces of shit!”

But even with their healing, their body couldn’t push itself forever-- and the healing itself always drained him, the wounds and his body forcing itself to painstakingly knit back together almost more exhausting than the wounds themselves. Razlo slumped, breathing heavily, vision swimming, limbs too heavy to move further. 

Fuck, let that be all of ‘em, he thought-- but then he heard a voice behind him, and he snorted weakly. He couldn’t make out the words, but…well, shit. He’d probably heal, but a shot to the head if that’s where they took it would be risky as fuck-- hell, his thoughts still swam a bit from his skull nearly getting crushed just then as it was. Adrenaline only went so far…

He braced for impact, waiting for whatever it was to get itself over with, and--

Then the ceiling caved in, and a pair of shrill female screams followed it.

Wha--

Slowly, he forced himself to peer over his shoulder, blinking hazily at--

“...th’ fuck?” He managed.

Milly Thompson beamed at him, waving cheerily. “Oh, hello, Mr. Undertaker! Just in the nick of time, huh?”

“Oww,” Meryl Stryfe moaned. “Milly, think before you act!”

Razlo blinked slowly at them, once, twice, and then snorted helplessly. “Yeah…great timin’, girls,” he said hazily, and then wavered once before collapsing.

That…had hopefully been enough.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 10
Families

Nai dreamed.

He dreamed of memories. Of lying in the desert, bleeding from what was once an arm. Of voices above him, arms picking him up. He dreamed…of piano music.

Then his eyes snapped open. For a moment, he didn’t remember what had happened. Didn’t remember where he was. And then-- and then he did.

There was still a blank, a fury-tinged hole after he had launched himself at Leonof, but-- he didn’t need to know what happened there. He knew he had broken his promise again. And-- and for what, he thought, pained. For what?

He blinked again, and realized slowly he was in Home’s infirmary. The soft fabric of a set of hospital scrubs brushed against his skin, the warmth of a blanket on top of that. He stared up briefly at the ceiling-- he’d been here before many times, and he recognized the dents and smudges. His wounds had been bandaged carefully, properly, and…he exhaled.

Gaze flicked around the room and stopped, frozen, on the neighboring bed.

Sleeping still and quiet, hair loose around his face, was Livio. When had he-- had something else been here, too? Had he helped to--

I’m not tryin’ to take yours from you-- I’m selfishly just choosin’ to make them mine instead.

He let out a shuddering breath, unable to tear his gaze from the sleeping man.

He’d killed for him again. Bared his fangs for him. For someone he hardly knew, someone he knew was a monster.

He really didn’t deserve that. Vash’s words echoed in his ears-- how many times now had he said them, and now they were coming to have tangible effect. Violence begets violence, Nai; you won’t know peace until you learn to love. All of the blood spilled, because he couldn’t let go of his hate, his anger. And here, now, it had touched this place, too. 

He pushed himself up, still lost in thought, hardly noticing that anyone had entered the room until his gaze aimlessly roamed across it again, and--

“Oh!” Thompson-- Milly gasped, beaming at him. “Mr. Kni-- Mr. Nai! Hello!” 

Meryl’s eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth, but--

“Nai!” Jessica wailed, not quite throwing herself at him but flinging herself to grab one of his hands. God, when was the last time he’d seen her? Hadn’t she been smaller than this? “Nai, you’re okay! You came back!”

“...I came back,” he said hoarsely. “Hello, Jessica.”

His eyes flickered back up to the girls, and a smile found itself onto his face, small and disbelieving. “It’s been a while. I’m…glad you two made it out of there alright.”

Meryl smiled back at him. “We did,” she said. “I suppose we don’t need to reintroduce ourselves~?”

He couldn’t help a weak chuckle. “Stryfe and Thompson, Bernardelli Insurance. No need, I remember,” he said. “...hello again, Meryl. Milly.”

The smiles they gave him hurt almost as much as it soothed something inside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw some of the residents clustering by the door to check on him, stress and fear still lingering at the eyes of their expressions. “...how many?” He asked them softly, still absently holding Jessica’s hand.

“A hundred seventy,” one of them said. “None of them you, don’t worry.”

That-- that was cold comfort, Nai had to admit. The people here long since knew about his temper, at least, and despite the fact that they should probably wouldn’t have blamed him if he had killed anyone by mistake, but…still. A hundred and seventy people dead, out of the almost five hundred still onboard…

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “This was my fault. I’m the reason they attacked this place. You’ve finally been involved in this, and I-- because of me, all of you--”

“Nai. Stop that.” 

He gasped, head turning. “Luida!”

The older woman pushed through the crowd to get into the room, her eyes soft as always even when surely he’d long since pushed the limits of their charity and goodwill. “It’s been a while, Nai, and it’s always so good to see you,” she said gently. “But don’t start blaming yourself for this. If it weren’t for you and your new friend there, there would have been so many more casualties. We owe you both.”

He let out a sigh. “...alright,” he said, ducking her knowing look. 

“Were those men sent by your brother?” She asked, and he nodded. “A dreadful lot. I almost expected better from how you’ve always described him.”

“I’m surprised too,” he admitted. “But…it seems so.”

Luida sighed. “One of the two enemies turned out to be a hivemind of nine; we’ve captured two of them thanks to your companion, and they’re being held in the brig. We’ll handle it from here, Nai, so you just rest. Understood?” He nodded, and she turned to the insurance girls. “Can we count on you two from here?” She asked.

Both of them agreed immediately, and she laughed softly. “Thank you. If you have any more questions, Jessica would be glad to help.” She turned back to Nai. “Now…no more depressing talk, alright? You’re family, and you always will be.”

She turned to shepherd the other bystanders away from the room, and Jessica gave his hand a squeeze and scurried off after the girls, leaving him alone. He let out a sigh, flopping back against the pillow and lifting his hand to chew on a finger absently. He knew he shouldn’t, but-- bad habits never went away, and this was at least the least of it.

He didn’t get it. He hadn’t when he first got here, angry and alone for the first time, down an arm and still a feral and hate-filled little brat, and he didn’t now. How these people, these humans, had taken him into the fold as one of their own. Had been there for him until he uncoiled, had taught him to live after so long surviving alongside his mad brother. Had still been there over the last seventy years. Were still there now, even after what had just happened.

Nai trusted them, he knew that. They knew what he was, who he was. Knew everything about him and Vash. The first humans he had been able to give that trust to since Rem, the only ones all this time until-- until the last two years, until Lina and Sheryl.

Until the man lying in the bed beside his, he had to admit to himself. Until the insurance girls, who had unflinchingly followed him back then, and even now came running back to do the same the moment his name had begun to be spoken again.

It felt incomprehensible. How did he, who hated humans, who resented them so incurably deeply, trust them at all? How could he stomach it? 

But they were kind. They were so unfailingly kind to him. They knew what he was and had accepted him, hadn’t hurt him or feared him. They knew the worst parts of him, his bitterness and his temper, had weathered the storm of his anger and resentment and vicious attempts to push them away and stuck around anyway. The girls had seen him lose control, and yet trailed after him. Had been there in Jeonora Rock and came back anyway. Livio…Livio somehow knew his brother, and yet-- had done all this for him, had come looking for him after two years of his disappearance. 

It didn’t make sense. 

Vash’s words still clung to him, the admonishments he’d put up with for eighty years, had heard every meeting since. That it was his fault, always his fault. That his scars were his own doing, that humans only feared and hated him because Nai did so first. That he brought everything onto himself, every wound and every cruelty. That if only he could learn to love, he would be safe and happy, and that if he couldn’t-- if he couldn’t, this would be his life eternal, hunted and hated and never able to stop.

And yet, seemingly in defiance of that…they were all here anyway.

Trying to wrap his head around it just made it hurt, and he subsided, wincing as his fangs broke the skin of his finger and lowering it. Oops.

He licked some of the worst of the blood off, hoping it’d heal up before morning, as he knew Luida-- or worse, Brad-- would scold him if they noticed, and closed his eyes to try and rest, try and shut his mind down to stop the endless thoughts circling it.

Of course, a groan and a shifting of blankets caught his attention and he pushed himself back upright immediately. “Livio?”

Another groan, and the man pushed himself upright as well, rubbing his face and pushing his shaggy hair out of his face. “Knives?” He asked, and then whipped around properly to face him. “Knives! You’re alright!” 

The naked relief in those golden eyes shook him, and it took a moment to respond. “More or less. You-- Livio, you…”  

Livio softened immediately-- how someone that looked so deadly, was so deadly, tall and broad and dangerous, could at the same time look so gentle, he couldn’t understand. “Yeah,” he said. “I couldn’t get all of ‘em-- stupid, how literal th’ name Ninelives ended up-- but…yeah. Did my best, though m’sorry if I still couldn’t protect everyone.”

“...you did more than enough,” Nai told him shakily. “Thank you.”

Livio smiled shakily back. “You sure you wanna thank me for killin’ people?”

“I do,” he replied. “Because you did…people survived. I’m not so moralistic to condemn that.” He let out a breath. “So…thank you. For choosing to make my sins your own again.”

Livio fell silent a long moment, eyes wide. “...of course,” he said finally. “This’s your home. Your family. I…m’happy to fight for them. I know how much a place like this means t’people like us.”

…Nai supposed he did, didn’t he?

He didn’t know why that was so comforting. But…somehow, it was.

It was a couple days before either of them were given permission to leave the infirmary-- getting to do that was nice, because Nai could return to the familiar sight of his room on the ship. It wasn’t very full of anything, as he still struggled with having any sentiment tied to objects in general, but there were a few photos, at least, from the years gone by. He wished he’d had one of Rem and Vash before the Fall, but…he hadn’t kept any of them. They were all long gone. 

But even so, beyond the photos, there were at least a few other things. Gifts from over the years of his time in and out of this place, things he couldn’t justify getting rid of. One of his favorites was a quilt someone had made him, all in shades of blue and white, the cloth patterned in ways that reminded him of his sisters. It was warm and cozy, and he’d developed a habit of burying himself in it on days where things were a little too much to want to leave the relative quiet and dim safety of his room. 

There was a lot of clean up to do, though, and he still felt responsible enough to help. Though passing the shredded remnants of what was left of Leonof’s puppets stung a bit, especially since he didn't remember tearing through them.

As he poked through them, wincing at the ones still wearing faces-- praying that’s what they were-- he hissed; in the hand of one of them was one of those damn coins. Legato’s pieces of silver. He snatched it up and stuffed it in his pocket, shaking his head. Judas. Honestly. 

“Mr. Nai~!”

He jumped at the voices, turning to see Milly waving at him as she and Meryl joined him in the biodome. That…

He’d been debating something in his head, the past couple days. And seeing them now…he decided to do it. “Good to see you two,” he said. “I…actually, I wanted to show you something. Can you two come with me?”

He’d debated it. Part of him wanted to introduce him to his sisters. Tell them everything. He was stunned at himself for even considering that much, to two people he still didn’t feel he knew well, just because they’d come back to his side after witnessing what he could do. But…but some things still felt too precious. So they went elsewhere, after Nai made sure they had coats on and grabbing his own to throw on against the chill.

He remembered…standing with Vash in a room like this, over a hundred years ago.

Say…Vash. Do you think we could become friends with them?

We can work through a few little differences. If we just talk to each other, we can come to understand one another. Because there’s no difference between human hearts and ours. Right, Vash? I just can’t wait!

He watched them follow him in, eyes wide at the hundreds of cold sleep pods around them, their occupants dreaming their long, long dreams. He watched them stand there where he stood, once, as a little boy who still believed. 

“...this is a cold sleep chamber,” he heard himself saying. “It’s old…older than the Big Fall.” Older than them, older than him, even. 

If we just talk to each other…

Before Nai could speak, though, a noise caught their attention-- quiet, then loud, then louder-- something was coming--

A shriek of rage cut through the air, and he saw two little-- shit, the two from Ninelives they mentioned, had they gotten out-- they had guns, and not aimed at him--

He was ripping his coat off-- internally thanking Brad for it’s bulletproofing-- and moving before his mind caught up to his body, throwing it over the two little creatures as their guns go off, his body crashing into the girls. “Get down!”

They landed with a crash, as did the two Ninelives, and he lifted his head even as they shrieked and cackled-- lost his bulletproof coat, now, and he’s vulnerable-- and he didn’t want to fight in here, not here, not in the last place he remembered having innocence, not when his knives could damage--

Their shrieks cut off before he could do anything, and he blinked. 

Livio was standing there, in the casual clothes they’d given him, his foot firmly pressed into the little creatures, who were very much no longer conscious. He grinned. “I got this, Nai,” he said. “An’ y’know, you could have told me that was your real name. I feel outta the loop.”

He blinked at him, at Luida and Brad standing next to him. “I--” He got out. 

He was still halfway on top of the girls, he realized. They were staring at him, stunned and awed and softer than he’d ever seen. Livio was there, smiling too-- using his name for the first time; Luida or Brad must have told him. They, too, were there.

Do you think we could become friends with them?

It wasn’t until Livio’s face shifted into mild alarm and concern that Nai realized he had started to cry, and it-- it made him laugh, helpless and fond. How long had it been since he’d laughed like this?

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he promised them, stumbling to stand and help the girls up. “I just-- I just realized something, that’s all.”

He swallowed, turning to let one of the guards who’d come in know to check in with the residents near the brig, trying not to feel the sets of eyes on him.

Ha…how stupid did he have to be? Seventy years…and he was just now realizing how much he cared about these humans. Realizing that he’d made some friends, after all.

Maybe…maybe he resented humans as a whole, as a race. Could never love them the way Vash did. But…somehow, it seemed-- somehow it seemed like he didn’t need to. All he needed was a few of them to care about.

Maybe that could be enough?

After all that mess was taken care of, he followed Livio and Brad to the commissary-- not really to eat, though he knew the other two would, but…he wasn’t sure. He just wanted to be around them for a little while, he supposed.

…and alright, alright, when Jessica-- she looked up to him as an older brother, he knew, though she could be a little bit clingy even older now-- slid him over an apple tart, he was going to eat it. Sometimes he deeply regretted letting himself end up enjoying the taste of fruit. 

“Y’know,” Livio said after a little while, around a mouthful of fried rice. “M’surprised. Kinda figured a big ship like this’d have…I dunno. Space food?”

“Space food?” Jessica asked indignantly. “What’s that mean?!”

“I dunno!” Livio said, trying not to laugh. “I wasn’t sayin’ anything bad, I swear! You’re a real good cook, Jessica, promise!”

Brad chuckled, too. “It’s because of the cold sleep pods, actually,” he explained. “We’re broadcasting a distress signal, you see, out into space.”

“What?!” Livio’s eyes widened, looking stunned. “For real?”

“Mmhm,” Nai confirmed. “They are. It takes a lot of energy, so they only manufacture the bare minimum to survive; most of the plants are working together to transmit the signal.”

“Like…to a satellite?” Livio asked, puzzled, and he couldn’t help but smile a little at it. The people here really didn’t know much, and…there was something about his wide-eyed curiosity that again reminded him of Vash. 

He stood. “Come on, I’ll show you,” he said. “It’s a little more complicated than just a satellite. It’s worth seeing.”

“I wanna see!” Livio said excitedly, bouncing to his feet. “Uh-- thanks for the food!”

Brad laughed and made a shooing gesture. “Go on, go, we’ll clean up.”

He led Livio to the communications room, and he heard the gasp behind him. Livio trailed in after him, eyes wide and full of awe, staring around at everything, up at the globe of Earth that hung above them. 

“They’re-- they’re sendin’ messages to where we came from?” Livio half-whispered. “To Earth?”

“Yeah,” he said, hands in his pockets. “For nearly a hundred years they’ve been broadcasting that signal.”

Livio pressed a hand to his mouth. “Do y’think maybe one day they’ll hear it…? That we’ll--”

He didn’t finish the question, but he didn’t need to. That we’ll be saved.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, staring up at the globe as well. “They haven’t so far. But…maybe. It’s worth a shot.”

He didn’t know how he felt about it-- about the idea of more humans from Earth, more ships with plants, more people that could hurt him and his kind. But after all this time…he supposed at the very least no one deserved to live like this. And if they were able to save them-- his sisters would be able to rest. They wouldn’t need to push themselves so hard anymore. They’d be able to be safer, happier. And that…that’d be worth the risk.

And maybe that was all it took. For him, too, to have a little faith.

It happened the next day. Everyone was told, all at once. 

An acknowledgement. A transmission from Earth.

Ships were coming-- they had warp drives now, and they could make it there.

He stood aside for a while and watched, watched the relief and joy ripple through everyone-- felt it himself, even. His sisters would be alright soon. They wouldn’t have to strain themselves, fight to survive alongside humans on this planet that drained everyone dry. Even if he couldn’t trust them with himself, with his brother-- his sisters could be okay. They had to be.

…and so, he thought, would the humans that he had realized were his.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a bear hug, and he yelped in surprise as Livio hefted him off the ground, spinning him in a circle and laughing, tears of relief in his eyes. “Holy shit!” He cried. “Holy shit, Nai, they’re really comin’! The kids back home are gonna be-- they’re gonna get to see spaceships! They’ll be okay!”

“They’re really coming,” he echoed, unable to keep from smiling if just at Livio’s infectious cheer. He really did feel so deeply. Both the good and the bad. While he still didn't know the secrets this undertaker kept, this wolf by his side-- he found increasingly that it didn’t entirely matter. Whatever he suspected…he was glad he was there, he supposed.

“This is amazing!” Meryl shouted, running over to them with Milly hot on her heels. “It’s a historical moment!”

“...wait, are you two already drunk?” He asked, bewildered, and then yelped as Milly grabbed Livio’s arm, which meant she was tugging both of them along.

“C’mon, c’mon, Mr. Nai, Mr Undertaker, you too, you too~!”

...well, what could it hurt?

Apparently a lot, he realized quickly. When you rarely drank to begin with, it turned out you had a horrible alcohol tolerance, and it didn’t really take long before he passed out. But before then…before then. Those moments, where he had simply been drinking with friends, remembering how to truly laugh…he didn’t know how to put it into words, but…he hoped he could have more moments like them.

He woke up to ice in his veins, in his stomach, bile in his throat--

And the lingering remnants of Vash’s delirious joy, and a sensation similar to what he recalled from Jeonora Rock, that power that burned inside their bodies.

As if his brother had discovered the transmission, and as if he thought to send his own.

More humans, he must have thought-- how wonderful. Let them come, and he would show them, too, to Paradise.

There was no more time to waste. He couldn’t linger. Not if he wanted the people he cared about to have tomorrow-- not if he wanted to stop his brother from painting the entire planet with blood that he truly believed wasn’t death at all, but salvation.

He headed to his room to pack, and within the hour was slipping out of Home unnoticed-- well, almost. Brad caught him at the door, and gave him a wry look.

“Leaving at this hour?”

“I can’t stay,” he said. “There isn’t much time left.”

“The satellite was damaged,” Brad told him. “Some kind of energy burst. The cameras we have outside picked it up from miles away. Was that…”

“Yeah,” Nai sighed out. “Don’t tell anyone besides Luida, though. I don’t want them to worry.”

“We already are, idiot,” Brad groused. “Just…stay safe, Nai. And come back to us.” He hesitated, and then pulled him into a hug-- for a moment he froze, and then leaned into it, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into the other man’s shoulder. “You’re part of the family, you’ve always been, you stubborn kid. Be careful out there.”

He swallowed, stepping away. “Can’t promise to be careful or stay safe, not with my luck,” he said quietly. “But…I’ll come back.”

“You’d better,” Brad said. “Now get going.”

He smiled faintly, tiredly, and stepped out the door--

“Livio?”

His companion smiled and waved a little, leaning on his large cross. “Hiya,” he said. “Glad you didn’t take too long, it’s cold out here at this hour, y’know.”

“What are you…?”

That dark, guilty look flashed across Livio’s eyes again. “Well, y’need me, don’t you? Long as your brother’s still out there, I ain’t leavin’ your side.”

Ah. He sighed, stepping forward with his small bag of things over his shoulder. “Well, then let’s get moving before the girls wake up,” he said. 

They’d be frustrated with him…but unlike Livio, they weren’t wolves. As much as he appreciated them following him, coming back to him-- he didn’t want them hurt. So they’d be left behind.

But…after this was over, he’d come back, or he’d try to. This was home, after all.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 11
Bottom of the Dark

As it turned out, sneaking out in the early hours of the morning with very little plan and no transportation had been…one of his worse ideas, Nai reflected.

Which had made it sting all the more when, hours later after he and Livio had given up to sprawl helplessly on the sand cursing their life choices and the heat of the midday sun, the girls had caught up to them. The girls, with their nice big truck and canteens of water.

Maybe they had deserved the taunting, but it was still insufferable anyway.

Eventually, the girls had taken pity and given them a lift into the next town, but at that point thanks to the heat and lack of water, both he and Livio were more or less out of commission for the rest of the day. He had to admit, sometimes it irked him that being an Independent didn’t protect him from things that would affect humans. In fact, considering, sometimes he thought he was more sensitive than most given how delicate his sisters were to changes in environment. That was…unpleasant. But as with everything else, he endured.

“...they keep following me,” he muttered half to himself after they’d slipped out of the clinic the girls had dropped them off at. 

Livio sighed. “Worried about ‘em?” He asked. “I am too. We ain’t exactly on a leisure trip.” He paused, tilting his head slightly, as if listening to a sound only he could hear-- he did that sometimes, Nai had noticed-- and then huffed a breath. “Though gotta say. Not exactly happy with ‘em right now either after that stunt. Part of me wants a bit of payback.”

“I can’t say I’d argue over payback,” Nai replied. “But as for being worried…”

He looked away, up at the moons, at the slash drawn through one of them, splitting its surface in two. “...they know what’s at stake, I think. They have to. And yet…” And yet they were still here. A small, quiet part of him wanted to trust that, trust them, and it was so new as to be frightening. He wanted them to leave him alone, he’d thought-- still did-- but…somehow, it had turned from wanting to be alone into wanting to keep them safe. He didn’t think they’d back down if he tried to turn them away, either, and it…almost frightened him.

What did he do, with humans who refused to give up on him or turn away? He hadn’t known then, with Home, and now-- now, he knew even less.

A place to return to was far different from people willingly chasing his footsteps into danger, after all.

The next morning, Livio had dragged him to breakfast-- the other man was a big eater, it seemed, which he supposed made sense given his large frame-- and Nai watched him, amused and almost strangely fond as he talked about nothing in particular. 

As he fished a piece of candy out of his pocket, Livio’s gaze darted behind and above them.

“Milly!” He waved, and then froze. “Milly, where’s Meryl? Is somethin’ wrong?”

The wrapper slipped out of his hands, candy tumbling to the ground before it even reached his mouth.

Livio and Milly had managed to convince him not to go running off immediately-- they didn’t know where Meryl had gone, or who had taken her, and Nai had to agree that losing his temper in the middle of a crowded city when he didn’t even know his destination or target wasn’t a good plan. But even so. 

Even so. In the hotel that night, his attempt earlier to harmlessly keep his mind off things had been forgotten, and he stared determinedly out the window as he paced in circles to keep from thinking about Livio’s eyes on him as his knives fidgeted and twisted around his arm, blood beading at their tips as they broke skin. 

Something had to give. Something had to happen. They needed to know where she was, some kind of purpose, before his self-control broke and he tore his way through this place to find her. 

The fact that he was this scared, this worried, this angry-- he’d deal with it later. Was this really how it felt to care? He didn’t know if he wanted it.

“Thanks for waiting.”

He spun, as did Livio. There in the window was a boy, dark skinned and pale haired, eyes unsettling and eerie-- almost glowing in the darkness. “I’m number twelve of the Gung-Ho guns, Zazie the Beast.”

“Where’s Meryl?!” Nai snarled it, leaping at the window and caught by Livio before he smashed right through it to get to the boy.

Zazie smirked. “Good guess. We do have your little friend. So there’s no point in trying to put off the inevitable. Unless…?”

Well, that was enough to get him to rip himself right out of Livio’s arm with a scream of rage, smashing through the window and landing on the-- was that a Worm?-- the boy was standing on. He heard Livio and Milly yelling, distantly, frantically, but ignored it. 

“Oho!” Zazie said. “Your kind really are intriguing! Are you really that one’s brother?”

He hissed a breath of rage, digging his knives into the beast’s side to try and clamber up it, but it jerked and thrashed, violent enough to send him right back through the window and barely being caught by Livio, who nearly topped backwards with the force of it.

“I’ll be waiting in the Dragon’s Nest!” Zazie called. “The Juukei building at its heart!”

“Dragon’s Nest?!” Livio said above him, shocked and horrified. “Is he serious, that’s--”

He didn’t know why that reaction was what it was-- not until they got there, and Nai’s heart clenched, sinking into his stomach. Hundreds of buildings crushed together, claustrophobic and clustered close. People, so many people crammed into this place, a mass of buildings and bodies tightly packed. Too many. 

“...it isn’t just Meryl they have hostage,” he said hoarsely. “It’s this entire fortress.”

If he were to snap, lose his temper like he always did…the collateral this time would be staggering. Wider open towns were bad enough. But here in this warren…here in this warren, he would bring so much death if he slipped up. And they knew it.

They knew-- Vash knew his temper. They kept angering him on purpose-- that was the point, he supposed. A cruel lesson. So long as he reacted to their violence with violence, snapped under their taunts and provocations…he would hurt, and he would be hurt, and he would break his promise again and again. Drown in his own hypocrisy, the man who swore not to kill but killed anyway, or finally break in the aftermath of his actions and accept his brother’s twisted love and delusional peace.

“Yeah,” Livio said with a sigh, and then looked at him, gold eyes sharp and steady. “But don’t worry, Nai. As long as I’m here…no one dies tonight.” Wolfish fangs were bared at him, in a humorless grin and as he flipped his guns into his hands. “No one innocent, anyway. An’ no one at your hands.”

He looked over at Milly, then. “Milly-- you should stay back now. This isn’t your world, from here on in. We’ll bring Meryl back t’you, promise.”

Milly smiled wetly, shaking her head. “No,” she said. “I don’t want to. I-I know maybe it’s pointless to argue with you two, but…but she’s my partner, and this is my fight too. I’ve always been nothing but trouble for her, a-and so…I couldn’t bear not being able to help this time.”

“Milly,” Nai managed, voice hoarse with frustration and something else he wasn’t used to hearing. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t come with us.”

She looked over at him, blinking tears away, but her jaw set in determination as she hefted her concussion gun. “I’m coming,” she repeated. “I have fangs, too.”

He and Livio looked at each other. “...I know when I’m beaten,” Nai muttered. “Livio--”

“I’ll keep an eye on ‘er,” he promised. “Let’s go find Meryl.”

The turned, then, but-- a scream, a howl, rage and hatred burning through it, echoed against the night. 

“Look out--”

With the speed and force of a missile, a bullet, a massive metal something crashed towards them, too large and too sudden to even dream of getting out of its path and punctuated by a single sustained note of sound that rattled windows and tore into their ears.

Smoke cleared, or began to, and-- “Livio?!” The other man was gone. And in front of him-- “Milly, get back.”

The man-- it must be, though he had armor that made him resemble nothing more than a living bullet-- spoke. “At last we meet, Knives the Reaper. I am Gung-Ho Gun number six, Hoppered the Gauntlet-- you’ll find I am quite different from the ones you’ve faced so far. I am far improved from what I was into what you see now-- and I am at peace with my objective.”

A long, massive arm pulled itself away from the bullet, slamming two coin halves down in front of him. “Your pieces of silver, Judas. Come and take them.”

“I don’t give a damn about your blood money,” Nai snarled. “Where’s Meryl? We’re here for her.”

Hoppered snarled a curse. “Hypocrite!” He raged. “You think you have the right to claim to save anyone?! I’ll kill you! But I’ll kill her first--!”

A gun in his hand-- Nai moved, whipping his knives out to knock it away, knock that arm back and slice into it and the shot meant for Milly went wild. Hoppered only laughed, maddened and enraged. 

“You see!” He roared. “That’s what you do, Reaper, you cut and slice and kill! And you never do anything else! All you can offer is steel and blood! Now come and give it to me, Reaper! Give me death!”

Hoppered charged again, his hulking body a bullet, and fired himself and that little gun at him both. He fought back, knives scratching against that huge metallic bulk as it tore towards him like a rocket, over and over, buildings toppling and people screaming, his strength and that of his blades barely enough to slow it down.

“Get out of here!” Nai shouted at the bystanders as he skidded past them. “Don’t stand there like idiots, move! Run!”

His opponent laughed, mocking and vicious. “They should be running from you, demon!” Hoppered bellowed, anger in every word. “Hypocrite, with your every cursed breath!”

“What you did to July-- I’ll make you remember it as you cough up blood, murderer!”

Nai’s heart nearly stopped in his chest.

“W-Wait, I--” He tried, voice dying in his throat. “I don’t--”

“Don’t deny it!” Hoppered howled, charging him again and sending him thrown backwards with the impact. “That light, how could you possibly forget it?! That holy light and the devastation you left behind, the mountains of rubble and oceans of blood from bodies so torn apart there was nothing left of them! Everything, reduced to ashes and dust because of you! You took it away, you cut it to shreds! You monster, you hypocrite!”

It was all he could to to run like a coward, Hoppered’s vengeful howls chasing him as he took off, heart pounding in his ears. 

He didn’t remember what happened. He knew it had been him, somehow-- he’d known that, but he didn’t remember it at all. And maybe some part of him had hoped it had been Vash, that Vash had taken that city to his bloody Paradise, because he’d had to have been involved somehow too.

But he couldn’t lie to himself. Even if he didn’t recall doing it-- he knew that blood, somehow, was on his hands. Drowning him in it. In the image of the collapsed buildings, cut to shreds with brutal precision. In the image of blood on every surface, bone and flesh shredded so finely that there was nothing left of anyone who had been there.

A hand clawed at his collar as he gasped for air, sweat dripping down his face in the empty building he’d stumbled into. Fingers-- knives-- slicing at his neck, digging into his throat, pinprick by pinprick and cut by cut forcing him to focus.

He had to-- he had to--

Hoppered’s bullet crashed into him from behind, sending him smashing through flimsy buildings and old wiring, something barely finally breaking his momentum as his head hit metal and his whole body trembled with the force of the impact.

“What you did that day, I’ll make you remember it!” Hoppered bellowed as he approached again. “You tore it apart, you tore away everything!”

His eyes forced themselves open, breathing heavy-- and the first thing they saw, far above him in the night, was the moon. The moon, with its scar cutting it straight down the middle.

…a hundred thousand people, he thought distantly. That’s how many they said had been in July. How many lives were on his hands. So what right did he have to judge Vash…what right did he have anymore to anything? He could keep trying and deluding himself that he could still keep his promise for all he wanted, but…

He had long since damned himself as a monster.

“Reaper.”

Hoppered’s face loomed in Nai’s vision where he lay. “Can you hear the countdown to your death?”

“I am…the grim reaper, after all,” he rasped out. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He hissed out a cry of pain as Hoppered’s fist struck his face. “What a freak you are, you demon,” he snarled. “Should I just kill you now? Or will you kill me, first? You want to, don’t you? For all you try, you can’t hide your devilish nature.”

He wheezed a breath. “You…want revenge so badly,” he got out. “Fine. You…should get in line. You wouldn’t-- you wouldn’t be the first. But I can’t let you. No matter…no matter how bloody I am, no matter how much you want me dead, I…can’t let you.”

He couldn’t. “I have…to stop Vash. I have to stop him. Even if I have no right to, I have to…so until then-- until then, I won’t back down. Don’t get in my way!”

Hoppered stared at him a long moment behind his mask. “Pathetic,” he said finally. “You’re lower than dirt, absolutely hopeless.” He shifted, still looming over him. “Forget about the hostage-- let’s you and I have our dance with death!”

He rocketed off, thumping his way up, up, towards the building in the center of this maze, and Nai let out a shaking breath that halfway sounded like a sob. 

You will never know peace without love, his brother would always tell him.

No…no, he thought. He’d never know peace at all. Not with what he’s done.

He staggered upright-- he had to find Meryl, at least. He had to…at least once, at least one time, he wanted to be able to reach out to someone and not cut them. She’d followed him here, regardless of the danger, he…he couldn’t let her be another victim of his violence. 

Feeling his way along the wall towards where Hoppered had gone, his head pounded. Flashes, images, forced their way free from a locked door in his mind. People’s faces. Children, tugging at his coat and laughing at his exasperated demands to leave him be. Women, offering him an apple from their cart or kindly letting him help out in exchange for a place to stay. 

The door cracked further with each one, further and further, and then they spilled out like a burst dam. Everything.

He’d been looking for someone there. Rumors, a man calling himself a count but whose face had seemed so familiar-- he knew too much about plants, they said, and he’d thought-- could it be? How had someone survived this long? He’d had to know.

He’d been away when he arrived, so he’d had to wait. Days passed, turning into weeks. People came through his life, fixed themselves in his memory despite efforts. Kind neighbors, feisty children, no matter how he’d tried to distance himself, they barged in anyway. They barged in, and he’d-- 

He’d--

He screamed, tears mixing with blood as his knives lashed out around him, encircling him and slicing at his skin as if he could tear it out of him, the memories and the pain.

He’d killed them all. 

Humans, humans who’d been kind to him, welcomed him-- the kind of human Rem had promised him existed, the kind of human she’d given her life to protect-- and he’d torn them to bloody pieces.

Monster. Demon. Murderer. 

His legs gave out, dragging bloody fingers down the wall as he went, and he couldn’t stand. What right did he have? What right did he have to keep fighting? Vash was right-- all he’d ever have is this cycle of violence. How could he ever expect different? He couldn’t change. He hadn’t after a century, why would he ever think he could now?

But…

But still, he--

He had to find Meryl. He had to…at least do that.

He forced himself up, breathing heavily, blood dripping from the cuts on his body, and forced himself onward. All he could do was that, in the end, no matter if he had the right. Force himself onward.

Time folded in on itself as he walked, and in what felt like moments he was staggering up stairs, and into a room with an old gated elevator. And in the elevator--

“Meryl--”

Her eyes were wide. “N-No! Nai, stay back, it’s a trap!”

Silence-- no sound but her voice. That was wrong, eerie-- it shouldn’t be. But then.

Just as swiftly, there was sound. Sound, and motion, and Hoppered’s rocket-fast bullet struck him in the back, sending them both across the room. His body was crushed against the far wall, boots skidding against the roof of the elevator.

His last conscious thought for a while, as feathers filled the corners of his darkening vision--

Please. Please don’t let me kill her.

Nai! It’s so good to see you again! I missed you, you know. 

I can’t say the same for you, Vash.

…oh, come on, don’t be mean. Put your knives down. We haven’t seen each other in ages, and it’s rude to point those at me.

You-- hhk!

Come on! I’ve been waiting for you to show up.

---lab a lab he’s strapped to a table there are needles why is Vash doing this no no no no no please don’t please he doesn’t want to end up like Tesla why why why Vash why who is that man he looks so familiar please please Vash don’t let him hurt me please you can’t you can’t you can’t let him why why no no no no no---

What did-- what is this, what did you to to me?! Vash!

Isn’t it so cool? It’s our angelic power! Doctor Conrad-- you remember him!-- he’s been helping me learn about it. He says yours isn’t as powerful as mine, but that’s okay. Here, let me show you how to use it.

Vash-- 

Does it hurt? I’m sorry. I know the first time might be a little painful, but it’ll be okay. See, here, let me show you mine too, and we can resonate together. It feels a lot better when you let it go, I promise! 

Please, Vash-- stop--

…say, Nai? Can I ask you something? After all this time, over a hundred years, and everything…do you still hate humans that much?

Stop…

No, no, it’s important! I saw all those scars on you, Nai, it’s just awful. How many times have you been hurt? Nai…Nai, if you keep on hating humans, you’ll keep getting more scars like that. Can’t you see? If you’re kind to them, if you love them like I do, like we’re supposed to…then they won’t hurt you. They treat you like this because they can feel your hatred, you know. They feel it, and they hurt you, and then you keep on hating them-- it’s an awful cycle. I can’t bear to watch, Nai. Why can’t you just learn to love them? Everything would be okay if you did. 

You’re…you’re wrong…

I’m not wrong! You’re so mean, Nai. You really are. When did you get so mean? I almost don’t recognize you. You always wanted to understand humans…but you hate them so much now, you’re so angry. I thought you said we weren’t any different. But you treat them so badly, and they hurt you back. It’s got to be destroying you! Your hatred…it’s like a poison. It’ll kill you one day, Nai.

I-- 

Shhh. Just close your eyes. I forgive you. I forgive everything. You, and all the people who hurt you. Because that’s what angels do. They forgive, and they love. Now…now you and me, together, let’s show humanity how much us angels love them. Let’s take them to Paradise, where they can be happy, and no one has to suffer. Rem would want us to do that!

No-- no!

Nai, stop! Stop fighting me! I’ll all be okay, so please, let me help you--! Nai!

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 12
Loss

By the time Livio got to what was left of this stupid building’s main hall, he was about ready to just give up on being nice and shoot Midvalley anyway.

He had a throbbing migraine from his brain having to frantically repair the damage from Hornfreak’s music more than a few times by now, his vision still wasn’t completely back yet, and most of all he didn’t know where Nai and Meryl were. He was getting fed up. At least he knew where Milly was, even if she’d proven stubborn enough to even ignore Razlo knocking her out in frustration when she kept trying to put herself in danger.

And then a bomb had to go off, on top of all that!

Part of him-- the part that was still just a kid named Livio-- didn’t really want to kill Midvalley. He’d been one of the more normal Guns, and sometimes he seemed as if he hadn’t wanted to be there, either. But…but the rest of him-- the Doublefang, the undertaker, the man using the name Chapel-- knew mercy was beyond him anymore. Even if Nai’s desperate, sincere attempts at it, at sparing lives, had…

But there was no more time to worry about that. There was Midvalley, standing over the other one-- Hoppered the Gauntlet, he thought. No sign of Nai or Meryl yet. 

He cocked his gun, pointed it at Midvalley’s back. The other man whipped his own gun around to point it at him in turn.

“You’re still alive,” Midvalley said.

“Takes a lot more than that t’kill me,” Livio said, wryly. “Besides, whatever that light was earlier seems to have destroyed all of the debris that coulda given me a hard time.”

Midvalley hissed a nervous breath. “Put down your gun already, Chapel.” He said. “I’m done. I don’t want to fight anymore.” Brown eyes flickered to look over his shoulder. “After all, aren’t you still playing this game of yours? Livio Wolfwood, Knives the Reaper’s new best friend.”

His breath hitched. How did-- when did-- when did that name get spread around? He’d been so good trying to avoid using Nico’s--

But he couldn’t deny that it…it felt good to hear it said.

Before he could respond, the rubble shifted and moved, and Livio’s heart skipped a beat, clenching as feathers unfurled from a pile of debris, a wing stretching towards the sky.

“Can you feel that?” Midvalley asked him, his own eyes fixed on that wing. “I wonder if that really is what an angel feels like-- something higher than human, so much so that the rest of us look like ants. If this thing wanted to, it could kill us all-- wipe us out, with nothing but bloodstains left behind. Both of them could.” 

The musician swallowed. “I want to get out of here,” he said. “Away from these monsters. You understand, don’t you?”

“I can’t say I don’t,” Livio said, lowering his gun-- albeit only a fraction. “Why put on such a big show, though, if y’just wanna get out of here?”

Midvalley snorted. “Make it look good?” He asked bitterly. “I don’t know. But I do know one thing: if you’re serious about what you’re up to, so am I. Maybe you’re hard to kill, but against that? You know how it’s going to end-- those monsters…those angels are going to tear each other apart.”

He wished he didn’t agree with that. He wished he wasn’t the one walking Nai to that fate. 

But before he could say anything more, that wing flapped, fluttered, lit up bright, as it twisted and flared-- “The hell?!” Midvalley yelped. “What’s it--”

The ceiling shattered downwards, and all three conscious men in the room’s attention whipped towards it. As the dust settled…as it settled, there he was, standing from the crouch he’d landed in, dark gold eyes burning beneath blue hair.

Legato.

“Well, isn’t this a fine outcome,” he said, gaze scanning over the room. “As expected from our master of sound. Our angel will be most pleased. You may rest, Gauntlet…and now shall we return home?”

There was a stillness, a silence. Livio’s gaze met Midvalley’s. The musician looked-- resigned, he realized. Resigned, and determined, and-- shit--

“Midvalley, don’t--!!”

Too late. Throwing his pistol to the side, the musician’s hands went to his saxophone, teeth gritted as he spun towards Legato, glaring at him with the fear and rage of a cornered animal with nowhere left to run.

A shot rang out.

Livio’s eyes snapped to Hoppered. The man’s arm was raised, trembling, veins popping against his skin as he struggled against Legato’s terrible power. His gun was in it, and-- and blood bloomed across Midvalley’s white suit.

“NO!” Hoppered howled as Midvalley fell backwards in slow motion, landing still on the ground. 

Everything happened fast after that, and before Livio realized, they were all pointing guns at each other. Hoppered had his trained on him, he had his on Legato, and Legato’s arm was out, forcing that massive, ever-larger mass of feathers away from him.

The rubble had fallen away as that mass had grown, and Livio’s eyes tracked to it. Nai was there-- frozen, eyes wide, those feathers wrapping around him in such a way that he seemed to not even be present in his own head, curled into himself on his hands and knees. It was terrifying, to see him looking so vulnerable. So…wrong. 

“I could faint,” Legato said, eyes fixed on the bloody form of Midvalley, a tear streaking down his face. “Betraying our beloved angel. And before my very eyes! Death is the only outcome of such a thing.”

“Wh…why?” Hoppered groaned. “How did you…?”

“The Beast,” Legato responded, and Hoppered’s eyes widened.

“But we…”

“That’s correct,” a new voice said. “But it’s a little more complicated than that.” 

All attention turned towards the newcomer-- a woman, it seemed, with the same dark skin and light hair as the boy called Zazie, the same eerie, almost glowing eyes. “That wasn’t very nice of you,” she-- they-- said. “Do you know how hard it is to get a new terminal? At least this one’s not too bad.”

“Shit!” Livio hissed, pointing his other fang at them, his first still trained on Legato.

They pulled a gun in turn, glaring at him. “Don’t try anything, Chapel,” they warned. “It’s impossible to kill us entirely, you know.”

“Sounds familiar,” Livio said, voice strained, but Hoppered once again drew everyone’s attention.

“I don’t get it,” he began, fury in his pained, ragged voice. “But you were onto us the whole time, weren’t you!? Toying with us!”

He was-- oh shit, Livio thought. He’s fighting Legato’s power. He watched that arm struggle, straining, trying to move the gun that was pointed his direction towards the blue-haired man. Legato hissed a breath, eyes narrowing, and Livio realized-- all his attention was on keeping Nai’s wings in check. He couldn’t focus on everyone at once.

God, he thought, as more guns found their way into hands. This was sure one hell of a stalemate. Four-- no, five, if Nai counted-- of them, fingers on triggers, just waiting for someone to slip. To breathe just that little bit differently, and then gunfire would echo like fireworks.

And then, suddenly--

Suddenly, Meryl shot up through the feathers, the wings, eyes filled with terrified tears but blazing with determination, a gun in her hand as she fired at Legato.

And that was enough to set all of them off. Livio could barely see who was firing at who in the chaos, feeling bullets tear into him in wounds that healed in moments, annoying and painful but not enough to send him to his knees.

The gunsmoke clearing, Legato was on a knee, eyes filled with righteous fury. “You--” He snarled. “All of you are flawed! So many unnecessary feelings, when all one needs is devotion to our angel! If you cannot even serve him faithfully, then you all die here!”

Meryl screamed, suddenly, and his eyes snapped towards-- oh shit. Midvalley’s bleeding form had been dragged upright, the man half-conscious, with eyes wide and mouth open in a scream of his own that he couldn’t force out as Legato pulled at his body like a sadistic puppeteer, the pistol he’d dropped earlier in a twitching, struggling hand.

Even as that gun shifted to point at Hoppered, Nai’s wings exploded outward with an inhuman scream from their source, Meryl terrified and tangled in their feathers, as a great and terrible blade burst forth from them, a reaper’s scythe, a guillotine, a flaming sword. The very thing that had destroyed Jeonora Rock-- that had likely destroyed July.

“Nai!” Livio shouted, fear clutching his heart like a vice. “Meryl! Meryl, run! That’s--” 

A nail, bloodred and massive, slammed through the blade like it was made of paper, pinning it to the ground.

Nai’s eyes seemed to come into brief focus, just for a moment, before he screamed again, thrashing against the nail, wings and feathers and blades seeming to almost consume his body whole, energy like lightning roiling around him, a localized natural disaster threatening to break free.

“This is bad, he’s losing control--” Livio choked out, throwing a hand over his eyes and trying to force himself against the solid wall of air pressure between them, trying to get closer, though he didn’t know what he’d do if he could make it there. “Meryl, get out of there! You're too close!”

Meryl stared at him, eyes filled with tears, wide and frenzied, and she gestured frantically-- oh shit. “You’re stuck!?”

This was bad. This was so, so bad. If he hurt Meryl-- if he accidentally hurt her, or worse, then Nai would-- Nai would--

He was broken, when he left. You should have seen his eyes, Livio. All the fight had gone out of him. It was your fault. Because he hurt you. Because you made him hurt you.

No, no, no, he couldn’t let that happen--

Distantly, he heard Legato laugh wildly. “Oh, you saved me--” He cried, and Livio realized a nail had buried itself into the man’s foot, or just close enough to snap him from his rage. “I am as much a sinner as ever! I was about to destroy that which my angel held most dear!” His eyes rolled wildly around him, finding everyone else’s faces in a frenzy. “Yet still-- yet still, I will not suffer traitors!”

The gun in the half-conscious Midvalley’s hand clicked, its safety off.

Nai screamed again, all eyes flashing towards that mass of-- of feathers--?

It had begun to recede, Livio realized. Receding and pulling back inside him, as Nai clutched his shoulder, prosthetic fingers buried into his flesh hard enough blood dripped from them. His blades whipped around him, tight and tucked close, more blood flying from so many cuts-- more and more, how many had he had previously, there were so many-- that mass that had once been an arm looked worse, and worse, eyes and mouths and tiny hands pulling away from it, like it was some kind of horrible amalgam of bodies, and he let out another scream, a banshee howl filled with so much pain it dragged tears from his eyes where he was sprawled, the shockwave pressure from Nai’s power having knocked him off his feet.

With that scream, he threw himself at Hoppered, blades and feathers coming up like a terrible, monstrous shield as Legato unloaded Midvalley’s gun -- the man himself crying out in horror, begging for it to stop, blood spilling from his mouth and the bullet wounds in his chest -- at the prone Hoppered.

Legato screamed in rage as the sound of gunfire faded, and threw his hands out as if to attack them all himself-- but a third nail ran through one of his arms.

A shadow flew through the air to land among them, then, and Livio’s attention snapped to them as they yowled in pain where they’d landed sprawled gracelessly. 

It was a-- a man-- no, that was a woman. A blonde woman was there in neat and tidy upscale clothes, lips painted red and clutching a briefcase. Shaking herself off, she leveled the stunned and furious Legato with a glare. “You stop that, Bluesummers,” she scolded. “Idiot, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Crimsonnail…” Legato growled, and Livio’s blood went cold.

Crimsonnail? Like, as in the thirteenth Gung-Ho Gun? The secret one, the most dangerous one? Elendira the Crimsonnail?

Oh, this just got that much worse, didn’t it?

Elendira strode over to Legato, huffing out a breath. “Come on now,” she told him. “We’re going back. You’ve been getting too carried away. You’d best remember your place…” She stomped on the nail buried in his foot. “Or I’m going to have to kill you, dear.”

She grabbed a fistful of Legato’s hair, and turned towards the rest of them as a chain dropped from what Livio now realized was an airship floating over their heads, dragging her comrade towards it and hopping onto the metal bar at its end. “You’re welcome!” She called to them. “Consider yourselves saved. But not for long, really-- maybe it would have been the true mercy to let you all die here, but…ah, well. Nonetheless.”

She smiled. “You know those rescue ships on their way here? Well, our darling angel intends to invite them all to Paradise as well. The more the merrier, as he’d say~! Your last hope for another option will be gone before your eyes.”

“Are you insane?!” Livio shouted. “You know he’s just going to kill everyone, yourself included! Why do any of you help him?! This isn’t mercy, it’s just murder!”

Elendira smiled at him. “Well, we all have ways we want to live what’s left of our lives,” she said mildly. “And if God supposedly loves me no matter what I do, then, why not have a little fun before I go? It isn’t like I won’t be going to his Eden along with the rest of you.”

She wiggled her fingers at him, winking. “Toodles!”

And with that, she and Legato were gone.

In the quiet, he heaved himself upright, tearing over toward where Nai and Hoppered lay, Meryl scrambling up to join him. By the time they got there Nai was conscious, if bleeding heavily, kneeling there with hands wrapped loosely around the still, cold hand of Hoppered, whose eyes had closed for the last time. 

“N-Nai, your arm…” Meryl whispered, tears streaking her face as she began to tremble.

Hollow eyes looked up at her, and he didn’t even bother to smile. “...it’s alright,” he said quietly, empty. “I’ll be fine.”

No, Livio thought, swallowing bitter bile. No, you won’t be. You never were.

They spent the next three days recovering. Milly had gotten beaned with some debris and ended up in the hospital, and between her and the countless cuts Nai had taken from-- from himself, Livio thought unhappily-- the doctors had their work cut out for them.

At least Midvalley had made it, too, with Livio having dragged him along to the hospital as well. They’d been able to patch up the bullet wounds he’d taken, though he was still horribly shaken from Legato’s actions and how close they had all come to dying at the hands of an out of control angel.

Once Nai had recovered, Livio helped him bury Hoppered. He was an undertaker, after all. It was the least he could do.

But as he watched Nai stand there on the hill, blue eyes so far away, his gut wrenched once more.

He would be burying the man beside him soon, too, wouldn’t he? 

New best friend…no. He was and always would be this man’s executioner.

God, but he wished it were different. But in the end…in the end, his fangs always found the throats of the people he loved most, didn’t they?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 13
Colorless Expression

He’d been having nightmares since they left the Dragon’s Nest behind them.

Worse and worse, the closer their steps got to the end of his mission. Dreams of Chapel, of Nico-- wherever he was, whatever had happened to him-- dreams of that angelic smile standing in front of the orphanage, Legato and Elendira behind him. A cheerful, warm voice welcoming his family to Paradise with the smell of blood.

Livio thought he might go insane before they even got to where they were going.

And worse still was Nai. Since they’d all left, since all that had happened, he’d been quiet. He’d always been quiet, but now he was even more so. Those blue eyes so far away, no fire or sarcasm left in him. Like remembering July had truly broken something inside him at last. But still he trudged forward, like someone walking towards the hangman’s noose, and it made Livio sick to watch.

He tried to drink it away, when he could, tried to smoke his way through the pain, but it wasn’t really helping much.

After another failed attempted at that, he trudged through the darkened town back toward their current hotel, cigarette clutched between his teeth so tight the paper was tearing.

“...who’s there?”

The voice, the presence he’d felt, laughed. “Oh, that’s our Chapel! Sharp as ever.”

“Zazie.”

 “Good guess!” They chirped from their hiding spot, wherever it was. “But I’m not coming out, though, so don’t bare those fangs of yours, got it? I have a message from the Angel. He says keep up the good work.”

Good work. Bullshit. Livio swallowed. “That’s it?”

“That’s it! Are you really going to keep doing this~? You seem to like him quite a bit.”

“I have to,” Livio said dully. “It’s my job.”

“Boy, you Eye of Michael folks are really dedicated,” they said, amused. “Wonder if they know the angel they worship means to wipe them all out, too?”

“How about you shut up and go?” He responded, eyes finding the slice of shadow he could sense they were hiding in. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“Ooh, scary! You are perceptive. Fine, fine-- bye~!”

The presence slipped away, and he was alone with his thoughts again.

Keep up the good work…did that angel-- did Vash really think that’s what this was? Good work? When his brother walked on, dead-eyed and bleeding, punished for not being perfect, tormented for being as human as anyone else, unable to reach the hights of mad blind devotion? 

He shuddered thinking back to after Jeonora Rock, the first time he’d really been face to face with that angel.

Razlo had thought to shoot him-- take him out, and end it all. Free Nico before he was sent from the Eye, too.

But lying there in that pit, naked and recovering from his resurrection, blue eyes had snapped open and gazed past the gun he’d had pointed at him. His trigger finger had frozen, and he couldn’t move. Those eyes, that smile he’d given him-- he’d never thought things like kindness and warmth could be so horrifying.

Oh, are you with the Eye of Michael? He’d asked. You’re the one that’s gonna look after my brother, right? Thank you so much. Keep doing what you’re doing, okay? Find and take care of him, and make sure he gets to me safely.

Damn it all…

His footsteps stopped underneath a building and froze, glancing up-- there he was. Nai, sitting on the roof and staring up at the stars. Or was he watching those two idiot outlaws they’d dealt with the previous day? They’d been worried he wouldn’t be able to fight again after that, but he had, albeit more cautiously, and it…it was a little reassuring, admittedly, but a drop in the bucket of his distress.

Those eyes…his stomach twisted again. Nai didn’t even seem to see him.

He--

Razlo hissed a breath, shoving Livio to the back despite his frantic protests, and took off up to the roof. Enough was enough. If this kept on, Livio would break. That soft, crybaby part of him he’d clung to so fiercely, clung to so that he wouldn’t lose himself to the Eye, so that he’d be able to save Nico-- it’d shatter, at this rate. 

And for what? A monster, brother of another monster? Someone who could destroy everything, if he wanted? It wasn’t worth it.

It was-- it always had been-- his job to protect Livio from pain. He’d failed miserably, at the orphanage-- he’d ruined Livio’s life instead, there, made all of this happen in the first place, before he learned to control his fangs. He’d bled Nico of his heart, that day, and almost killed Livio in the process.

And maybe he’d hurt him here, too. But better that then let him break entirely when he gave this monster he’d grown too fond of to his cruel intended fate.

They still had a brother to find, to save. They didn’t have the luxury of tormenting themselves over someone like this.

He drew one of his fangs, aiming it at the back of the blond head and ignoring Livio’s screams for him to stop. 

Before he could shoot, though--

An explosion. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Nai was up and running without a word, knives melting from his arm between the bandages still wrapped around it. That he could still manage to do even that much after what happened-- it was impressive, in a bleak sort of way.

Razlo barked a frustrated, disbelieving laugh, and followed. Least he could do while sitting on Livio was prevent this from getting into an even worse problem. 

It wasn’t too difficult to take the outlaws and their backup-- and stupid ass armored car, thank fuck he always carried his Punisher-- in the end, though Razlo hated the fact that they worked together so seamlessly. It was one thing with Livio, but another that even he could fall into step with this bastard so easily.

He hissed a breath as it was over, and shook his head, turning to Nai-- and stopped.

Nai stood there, back to him, knives totally put away. Unarmed, helpless, wide open.

“Nai--”

“...thanks,” Nai said quietly. “Whoever you are. I won’t ask. But…thanks.”

Razlo froze, gaping at him as he disappeared back towards the hotel. He’d-- how the fuck had he-- he knew? He’d realized right away that he wasn’t--

He started laughing, Livio breathing a sigh of relief tinged with hysteria.

“You gotta be fuckin’ with me,” he moaned, sheathing his fangs and lighting a cigarette. “You know what, Liv, you win. I won’t shoot ‘im.”

He'd seen him. He’d seen him, and known him for what he was-- not Livio, a stranger he hadn’t yet met. And yet still, he still turned his back, sheathed his blades. Thanked him.

This was gonna hurt like a sonovabitch, Razlo thought sourly, staring down at the dented brass lighter in his hand, the lighter that had burned the first bridge they'd ever built.

But…he supposed deep down he agreed with Livio on one thing. He’d rather hurt than be dead inside, and lose the last thing of their childhood that was left to them. 

After all…if they let that die, then what happened to Nico would have been for nothing.

The next town they stopped in, there was yet more chaos.

Not right away-- they’d stayed the first night peacefully, of course, and the next morning, he’d gone to get breakfast while Milly hung out with the kids in front of the hotel and Meryl popped out to get supplies. Nai…Livio hadn’t seen him all morning, and he worried, but…he hoped that there wouldn’t be trouble. 

…of course, when the gunfire started mid-meal, he knew there was trouble. As always.

As always, he tossed some double dollars on the table and took off, sighing to himself. Why couldn’t people just leave Nai alone? Why did it always have to be something? And why now, when he was already suffering?

He got to the square to see Nai surrounded by thugs, the largest of which shouting about being hired by a private citizen for a bounty-- to kill Nai, in exchange for the client’s lost family, dead in July.

Oh, God, he thought to himself. “Nai!”

He didn’t move. Just stood there, watching. 

“Not gonna say anything in your defense, are ya?!” The leader bellowed, gesturing wildly with his gun.

Nai laughed, hollow and brittle. “What would you want me to say?” He asked. “I don’t have anything to offer you.”

Livio’s gaze found Milly and Meryl in the crowd, and their eyes met, the girls looking just as horrified as he felt.

Before anything could happen, though, the radios all over the square crackled to life with an emergency broadcast.

We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a special news bulletin. At 8:09 this morning, local time 14:09, in the Nouve Town municipal ship, there was a mass murder. All the bodies were shot with uncanny precision, and authorities begin to suspect a new, unknown armed group. Also, numerous residents report a blast as if from a massive cannon emanating from the ship. The area has fallen into panic; please stay tuned for further reports…

Vash, it had to be-- shit, Livio thought wildly. What the hell?!

He pushed through the crowd, unsheathing his fangs. “Get outta my way!” He snarled at the people clustered in his path and they parted, scrambling to back off. “Nai, come on, we’re headin’ out! It’s him, we gotta get goin’!”

The bounty hunters swore as he approached, opening fire on him and Nai both, and bullets blazed from both sides; he didn’t even see Nai through the gunsmoke and kicked up dust at first, didn’t know what he was doing, until--

Silence. The bounty hunters’ guns stopped firing, and the smoke cleared, and--

Knives. Nai’s blades, the tendrils, already retreating back into his arm, as the men’s guns fell to the ground in pieces, bullets cut in half midair. Nai’s face pale, arm flung out haphazardly, as if he hadn’t actually meant to go that far with them that time, the first time he’d used that much of his power since--

Meryl screamed. Nai’s eyes shot to her and so did Livio’s, where her legs had given out, staring at the knives with white-faced terror, eyes distant-- back at the Dragon’s Nest.

Livio’s gaze snapped back to Nai. He was staring at Meryl, curled on the ground in Milly’s arms and shaking, as if he’d been stabbed in the heart.

His knives didn’t fully retreat, instead curling around his forearm, wrapped tight enough that blood began to well up and start to flow. Livio had suspected before, that night while they waited for Zazie to appear, but now he knew-- now he knew for sure, that half of the scars on this man were his own doing.

His gaze flickered to Milly, watching Nai as well with the same horrified, brokenhearted realization in her eyes as she cradled Meryl.

Whispers started from the crowd, whispers that rose into a roar.

Demon. Monster. Devil. The calamities really were his doing. Run him out of town. Get him out before he kills us all too. Jeonora Rock, July-- he killed everyone there. Monster. Murderer. Demon. 

Nai just stood there, eyes wide and vacant, even as rocks began to be thrown. He didn’t bother to dodge, and Livio swore as one bounced off his head hard enough that blood started to flow from his temple. He ran towards him, shoving people out of the way and using his own body to block the stones tossed their way.

“Knock it off!” He roared at the crowd. “We’re leavin, we’re leavin’!”

He shoved Nai forward, and behind him, they heard Milly.

“Mr. Nai!” She wailed. “Oh, Mr. Nai, what’s wrong?! Why are you hurting yourself?! Mr. Nai!”

Beside him, Nai’s gaze turned to her, blue eyes so painfully empty.

“...it’s all I can do,” he said quietly. “Hurt things.” 

He stared at her a moment longer, at Meryl sobbing in her arms. “...I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Thank you for everything up til now. Goodbye.”

With that, he turned and fled, Livio on his heels fighting his own tears.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the knives wrapped around that bare, bleeding arm.

A crown of thorns…and here I am walking him to his cross. 

May God never forgive me for this, because I sure don’t deserve it. 

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 14
happy days.

Their next stop was, inevitably, the municipal ship.

Nai didn’t need a guide-- didn’t want one, either. Had always hated the idea of other people setting foot in plant rooms, even if he knew it was necessary for his sisters’ maintenance and survival. Hated the thought of people peering and poking and prying at them.

He was…surprised he let Livio accompany him in. But his presence had become somehow comforting, and…so his shadow remained as they entered the silent building, hole cut out from the blast that had caught everyone’s attention, splatters of blood here and there where bullets had entered bodies, corpses long since removed.

His sisters were quiet-- afraid? Concerned? He wasn’t sure, but there was an oppressive sense of tension among them. Had Vash affected them that badly, whatever had happened here?

“Please,” he whispered to them. “What happened? Show me.”

Their consciousness brushed his, then, delicate and careful as if they knew how fragile he was right now, steering him further in.

The plant he approached was shadowed, at first, the light cast from the hole burying it in darkness. But his sisters-- they reached for him, gently, paining their memories across his vision.

Vash, and the man-- Dr. Conrad, the man from their ship, he remembered him now-- talking. Vash stumbling back slightly as if shocked by something, clutching his head. Had his delusions faltered, briefly? But why? A gun-- the gun his brother carried-- came out, fired, and then dropped to the ground as his arm warped into a mirror of his own angel’s blade, save that this one was a massive cannon, firing at the ceiling as if he was screaming up into the heavens.

He shuddered, staggering as the vision ended abruptly, rubbing his face and shaking off the way his heart pounded. But--

What had he seen?

He took off towards the shadowed plant container, and the moment his footsteps got close enough to see it, Nai stopped as if he’d run into a wall. He let out a choked noise, his legs giving out as he fell, staring up at what was left of his sister.

Her tank was dyed red, red with death and blood, and her crumpled, bloody, twisted form lay at its bottom, feathers and hair black as his own was slowly turning. 

He let out a cry, hands over his mouth-- oh, God. God. his sister, they’d-- once again, again humans had-- humans had--

Tesla, he thought to himself, devastated and angry all over again. They would always, always do this to them. Like they’d hurt Tesla.

It had been only a couple days after their first birthday.

He remembered, because he’d already given Rem a hard time again. He’d just been poking around in the ship’s system, that was all! He hadn’t meant to mess with anything, he’d just been curious. He’d ended up feeling so bad about it, because it had frightened Rem and it could’ve been a lot worse. He’d resolved to try not to do it again.

But…Conrad had been nice, at least! Nicer than he’d worried, the first other human that they’d met. And it was a relief, because-- as scary as humans could be in all the history films he’d watched by himself (Rem only showed them the educational ones, not the ones with all the blood and violence and cruelty in them)...they’d made them, right? So he’d always believed they’d accept him and Vash.

And when they met Mr. Conrad, he had. He’d been a little scared at first, but then he’d said as long as they loved Rem, it’d be okay. And of course they loved Rem, that was their mom. Maybe not by birth, because they were plants, but…moms were the people who raised you. So she still counted.

He knew Vash was worried, too. But he was sure it would be okay, now, relieved enough to have cried as that weight had lifted. Surely, it would be okay. As scary as humans could be, they were good, too. They were all the same, in their hearts. It would all definitely work out. He’d been so hopeful, so excited. 

And then they’d seen the girl.

In retrospect, maybe it had been his sisters showing them. Wanting them to know, for their own reasons.

But the blonde girl had been there, and they’d followed her. Like a ghost, in one of the movies they’d watched. Leading them into darkness. To the truth.

A small hidden room in an abandoned medical block. Too clean, too cared for, flowers in a vase on the floor.

He’d gone into the files, because he’d always been better at computers, and they’d found her. Tesla. 

He remembered Vash pushing at him, trying to squirm in closer to see the screen beside him, telling him to hurry up. He remembered arguing back, the usual song and dance of twins, their teasing banter like it always was-- until it wasn’t.

Until they saw.

He would never, could never forget the sight. It was burned into him, carved into every bone in his inhuman body. Every word in those files, every video clip of his big sister screaming and crying and being torn apart. Every picture of her body falling to pieces, every picture of her on that lab table, bloody and bandaged, wires and needles and scalpels around her. 

Beeping, then-- tanks rising from the floor, and then the sight that had haunted him for the rest of his life so far, the sight that had destroyed them both.

Her little body, carved up into pieces, floating in those tanks. Her brain. Her arm. Her eyes. Her torso, organs spilling out of it and floating around her like fleshy, terrible weeds. He could see her lungs, her intestines, her heart. 

Her eyes stared at him. Blue like theirs. Like she saw them. Like she was silently pleading for help that never came. 

They were blue, the same shade as Vash’s.

They begged him to save her.

But he couldn’t do a thing.

He remembered Vash screaming, high and terrible, and he screamed too, echoing in the room. A thud, as Vash fainted. But he couldn’t do the same.

He’d dropped to his knees, eyes fixed on those blue eyes staring at him, unable to tear his gaze away from the horrific sight, the butchery. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t look away from it. It taunted him. It laughed at his innocence, at his hopes, at his naivete. 

Look, Tesla seemed to say. Look what humans did to me, little brother. Do you really think they’ll love you? They can’t love us. They’ll only destroy us.

He’d cried until he couldn't anymore, and then kept crying. The dry sobs tore at his throat, he tore at his arms with blunt nails and the little knives he’d been practicing generating, scratching as if he could claw the sight out of him, but it still loomed there in front of him.

As Vash would later say…it was as if he were knelt in front of Jesus’ crucifixion, and all he could do was witness it. 

Rem had found them eventually, Vash still unconscious and him curled bloody on the floor, unable to tear his wide eyes away from what was left of their sister, the terrible truth she’d tried to hide from them.

He remembered thrashing, slapping at her in terror and rage when she tried to pick him up, but being too weak to fight it in the end.

He remembered being curled up in an infirmary bed, Vash sleeping nearby. He remembered wrapping himself in the blankets as if he could shield himself from the world, wrapping himself in his knives, like a protective layer of sharpness could keep them all away, the humans who would hurt him.

He remembered Rem trying to talk to him, trying to convince him to let her in, let her bandage him up, the cuts he’d given himself still bleeding sluggishly, more opening as he refused to lower his barriers.

He remembered screaming at her hoarsely, calling her a liar. Accusing her of wanting to do the same thing to them. He remembered her denying it, loud and strident and tearful, refusing to let it happen again. He hadn’t believed her, at first. How could he? She’d known all along. She’d known what they did. She’d left those flowers. How could she smile at them when she knew the fate of their sister?

It was days like that. Days blurred together as he huddled in on himself, cowering in his shield made of thorns and blankets, glaring at her every time she came close to try and treat his cuts. Hissing, growling, demanding she kill him and get it over with. 

Humans couldn’t be trusted. Humans really were scary. Humans were the worst. Humans didn’t deserve them, not him or Vash or his sisters. 

The thoughts had already begun to sink low, lower, into the darkest places. 

They should die. They should all die. All of them should go away. If they went away, Vash would be safe. If they went away, he’d be safe. They’d never hurt their kind again if he killed them all. He should do it. He should kill everyone. Make a world for plants where they’d be safe. He and Vash would be safe. Vash hadn’t woken up yet. What if he didn’t? He’d protect him, he’d protect him. No one would cry again. He’d kill them all.

As if by magic, the moment those thoughts knotted together, solidified, made him make that choice, consumed by that burning anger and hatred-- she was there. Rem. Reaching for him again.

Good, he’d thought viciously. He’d start with her.

He remembered.

For a moment, when his knives buried into her side, he felt relieved. Happy. Triumphant. He’d done it! He’d killed her, he’d killed a human, and good riddance! He’d--

He’d blinked, and his mother was lying on the floor, bloody and quiet, and his hands were covered with her blood on top of his.

Something had snapped in him, something broke, and he’d screamed, tears flowing down his face as his knives retreated all at once, leaving him kneeling in a blood-spotted bed before he threw himself at her, sobbing. 

No, no, no, no, he hadn’t wanted this after all, he hadn’t wanted it, it was wrong, it was wrong, that was his mother, that was their mother, she’d only been trying to help him, she’d been trying to be kind--

He’d rushed to drag her onto a bed, bandaging her up as best he could, hands shaking, and then bandaged himself up, too. Sloppy and messy and unpracticed, nothing done quite right, but he’d done it, and then curled up nearby, staring at her and trembling until she woke.

She woke up, and the same relief nearly crushed him-- funny, when he’d thought he was relieved to have killed her. Now he was so happy he hadn’t.

She’d smiled sadly at him, tiredly, and spoke.

“After Alex died in that accident, when I was so depressed I could hardly bring myself to move…I had a dream. I was on this old-fashioned train, like someone had just dropped me there out of nowhere. It was raining outside-- a total downpour. The conductor came by, then, asking me for my ticket, but when I pulled it out…it was blank. There wasn’t any destination written on it. But still, he just…punched it, and gave it back to me. Like nothing was strange about it. And it…made me feel almost relieved. It made me think: that’s right. Without a destination, I can go anywhere. When the rain lets up, I think I’ll go see the ocean. And then I can decide wherever I want to go after that. I’d always looked up to people who wanted to go places no one else has seen…so I decided to join the colony ships.”

“So, Nai-- you can go anywhere you want, too. Even if you’re lost in the darkness right now, you still have that blank ticket, waiting to be filled in. So-- so…”

She’d cried, then. She’d wept for him. “Please, don’t say you want to die, please,” she’d begged. “Let’s go see all kinds of things together, you, me, and Vash. Let’s walk together. I promise, I promise you humans aren’t all bad. We aren’t worthless, so please…please, let me show you that!”

He’d slowly crawled over to her where she’d stretched out her arms to reach him, and folded himself into them.

“...okay,” he’d sniffled quietly. “I…I’ve never seen a train before, really, outside of movies, so I-I don’t really get it, but…okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She’d hugged him tightly, enough the cuts stung a little, but he didn’t mind. “It’s alright,” she said. “Promise me, though, Nai…promise you’ll let us humans try?”

The words she hadn’t said lingered in the air. Promise me you won’t hurt anyone.

“...promise,” he’d agreed, then and there, still feeling the blood on his hands even after he’d washed it away. He never wanted to feel like that again. Not that rage and loathing that had consumed him like wildfire, not the horror and guilt that came after when his mind cleared. He hated it. It felt awful. He didn’t want to be like humans, who would only ever hurt people. He wanted to be better than that. So…so he’d promised.

Not long after, Vash had woken up.

He’d scurried to his brother’s side, frantic, as he blinked blearily and looked around, puzzled.

“What happened?” He asked, wide-eyed and confused, innocent. “How come you guys are all beat up? Nai, did you mess with the computers again? Oh-- oh, did I scare you guys? You’re looking at me funny…”

“You don’t-- you don’t remember, Vash?” Rem had ventured.

“Remember what?”

He and Rem had exchanged looks. A moment of understanding between them, clear and simple. They didn’t say anything more.

“You guys are being weird,” Vash said said with a laugh. “Anyway, I’m super hungry! Can we get something to eat?”

Later on, Rem had sat them down and explained everything. About Tesla, and what happened to her. That she and Conrad had fought back against what they’d done to her, opposed it at every chance, but hadn’t been able to stop it. That she was breaking so many rules by keeping the two of them secret and safe. That when she had to go into cryo sleep again, she’d forge data and take them with her, her children, so they’d all live together safely on their new home.

He’d been…happy. That she’d told them. That she really seemed to care.

She was one of the good ones, he’d rationalized to himself. Maybe the only good one. Her and Conrad. The exceptions, not the rule. Even if he was still angry, even if he thought he’d never stop being angry…he could still let himself care about Rem. Because she was different.

He’d known she’d sanitized some of it for Vash’s sake-- glossed over the details of Tesla’s fate a little, even if she’d been honest with the gist of it. He didn’t mind. He would have, too. If Vash didn’t remember the grisly things they’d seen, that was better. He’d protect him that way, if he could. 

Vash had been shaken, even so. Crying more, sometimes, but forcing himself to smile. He wanted to stay cheerful, he’d told them. Because crying didn’t help, and if Nai still believed they could be friends, then he would too. That it would be okay. 

He’d promised Vash, too. That he’d keep him safe, no matter what. That he’d never have to cry again. He’d wanted to keep that promise so badly. That one, and his promise to Rem. No one would cry, and no one would be hurt. They’d all be okay, and maybe humans would prove him wrong, after all, one day. Maybe one day he could let go of his anger, his hatred, the pain that burned in his chest sometimes enough that he’d chew his fingers bloody or scratch at himself with his nails or his little knives to make it stop and go away.

But he’d failed.

He’d failed to keep Vash safe-- watched him go mad, beaming and so happy, bright and cheerful as he damned millions of souls to death while believing wholeheartedly he was sending them to Paradise, an Eden where people could live as people, no suffering or sorrow. Watched him smile at him, spinning in a circle with his arms thrown wide, laughing as if he were dancing in a rainstorm as ships fell like shooting stars around them in this desert they’d crashed into. Warmth that felt cold, a smile that was false. Insisting they were angels sent by God to make humans happy, and that it was alright, because they could love and forgive all of humanity, the way Jesus Christ-- Tesla-- had after dying for their sins.

He’d failed to keep his promise to Rem, too, in the end.

All these years later, and he still hated, still was angry. Still couldn’t control his temper, letting that burning fury loose on innocents who he had tried so hard not to harm. 

He didn’t deserve absolution. He didn’t deserve anything better than the rest. He hadn’t wanted to be like humanity, always hurting others, but he was no better. That lack of difference between human hearts and theirs…it was because all any of them could ever do was violence to each other.

Yet still…

Still, he had found exceptions to that rule all the same, even now.

And…even if he didn’t deserve to be forgiven, even if he had no right to judge Vash for his sins. Even if it was hypocritical to the extreme to think he had any ground to stand on in trying to stop him.

He’d keep walking forward, anyway. Promises broken were still promises. 

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 15
Beginning of the End

They were within sight of their destination when they saw it.

A beam of light from that distant place on the horizon, touching the sky and then shattering into so many as it struck the atmosphere and went on. On, and on. 

Nai knew-- he knew it was Vash. Wondered what he’d done, and why. Wondered if seeing that plant had cracked his delusion. 

He’d find out soon enough, he supposed.

As they walked towards it, the massive, metal bridge that led into whatever darkness awaited them, Livio’s steps began to drag. He supposed, by now, he understood why, and at the edge of that bridge he stopped.

“...you were sent to bring me here, weren’t you?” Nai asked him

Livio’s breath hitched. “M’sorry,” he whispered. “Yes.”

He turned to look at the other man, the undertaker in black with the three crosses he carried. A wolf who bared his fangs, but who was at the same time so terribly gentle.

“...it’s alright,” Nai told him.

“It isn’t!” Livio insisted. “I’ve been lyin’ to you this whole time, and I-- I-- when we get in there, I dunno what's gonna happen to you, an’ I don’t…” He trailed off. “It’s gonna be my fault.”

Nai stepped forward, reaching out to pull the taller man’s head down, so that their foreheads touched-- he usually hated initiating contact, didn’t like breaching his own personal space, yet somehow it felt right to do this.

“I can’t absolve you, Livio,” he said quietly. “I’m not an angel. But I forgive you.”

Livio’s eyes filled with tears and he squeezed them shut. “...don’t deserve it,” he said quietly. “You aren't the only one who can only hurt people, ‘specially the ones you care about. But…thank you, Nai. I really am sorry.”

“Quit apologizing,” Nai told him. “And…let’s get this over with.”

And so together they walked in-- there was no point in anything but the front door, Vash’s presence, heavy and overwhelming, lingered like a stormcloud shroud over the whole place. There would be no concealing anything.

He felt the feathers, his power, writhe in his veins, under his skin, feathers peeling themselves away from his arm and cheek. What was this? Vash felt so much-- more, than he had before. Almost as if…no. No, he couldn’t allow himself to consider that. Vash wouldn’t. Would he?

Behind him, suddenly, Livo let out a noise, an aborted cry of something like shock and fear, and he turned. “Livio?”

The other man was pale. “I-It’s nothin’,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

He…Nai would worry anyway, he realized. He really had come to care for this man, hadn’t he? Between him and the two girls…was he growing soft, or was he finally…

There was no more time to wonder.

Before them stood a woman-- Elendira, he remembered Livio telling him, the woman who had been there at the Dragon’s Nest. 

“Well, color me surprised,” she said. “Part of me didn’t think you’d just walk right in. ah, well~ He’s been waiting for you. And don’t worry about yourself; you’re our special guest, after all. Come along.”

She turned and led them further in, all of them silent, the air feeling still and heavy as if they were in an ancient ruin, perhaps an old cathedral like he’d seen pictures of, filled with centuries of worship.

“Here we are!” She said finally, stopping at the bottom of a long flight of stone stairs. “This is as far as you go, dear undertaker.”

Livio stopped, and swallowed, looking at Nai. 

“It’s fine,” he reassured him. “I’ll be alright. I know Vash won’t hurt me, if nothing else.” He hesitated. “...you be careful, though, Livio.” Whatever had spooked ihm…he didn’t want anything to happen.

And so he climbed those steps alone, all the way to the top, where Vash waited.

It really did feel like a church, Nai thought-- he never liked going in them, unsettled thanks to Vash’s insistence they were angels, but when he did…sometimes, they felt like this. Eerily still, filled with the weight of faith and prayer. And in front of him, an altar of a kind-- shrouded in stone and cloth. 

And from within it…from within it, out stepped Vash.

Both of their bodies were acknowledging each other, feathers bristling from their bodies, and he watched his brother approach, smiling. He’d cut his hair since Jeonora Rock back to the spikes he’d favored as a kid, and he was all in black leather, straps and buckles that made him look strangely fearsome, a contrast to that smile and cheerful demeanor. Over it all, though, he wore an open red coat.

He had always liked red, Nai reflected. The color of Rem’s favorite flowers.

“Hi, Nai,” Vash said. “I’m glad you made it.”

He tilted his head. “You don’t look so good. Does that mean the people I sent taught you your lesson well enough? I hoped they would. I know a lot of them might not have been up to your standards, but that was the point, you know! You have to learn to love everyone, no matter what they’ve done. You gotta learn not to be mean to them, or hurt them. Or they’ll hurt you. I hope they all started to really make that sink in.”

Nai stayed silent.

Vash sighed. “Well, you're not being rude, so I’ll take it,” he said brightly, and something under that coat writhed and twisted, feathers and wings and a mass of plant matter that made Nai shudder.

“Your arm…Vash, what have you done?”

“Oh, it’s not me you need to worry about,” Vash said, that smile faltering for a second and something dark flickering in his eyes for the first time. “Did you know? The black in our hair, what it means?” He asked, and Nai registered that there was a streak of it in Vash’s hair, too. “It means we’re dying, Nai. The more we use our power, the more black it gets, and…well, it looks like you’re worse off than me right now.”

…somehow, Nai reflected, hearing it aloud didn’t bother him as much as it should have.

Instead, he still focused on that arm. “You’ve been hurting our sisters,” he accused. “That power-- I can feel them, too, you’ve been devouring them!”

“They’re helping me!” Vash snapped, cheery demeanor cracking. “They want human to be happy too, that’s why they help them! They love humanity, Nai! That’s why they let humans use them, that’s why we coexist! Because we’re born to love humans, because we’re angels! And they want to help me take everyone to Paradise! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“You’re such an idiot!” Nai snarled back, snapping his knives out. “I’ll cut them out of you!”

“I won’t let you! They want to be here!”

The two of them clashed, knives against Vash’s gun, the one he carried made of steel and the one on his arm, the terrible thing that was built of so many of his sisters. But it was no contest. Vash was the stronger, and it was horrifyingly obvious. 

He hit the ground hard, coughing, and Vash strode over to stand above him, eyes wet with tears and distress and the edges of hysteria scraping the mask off his mania.

“You don’t get it!” Vash howled at him. “Nai, you just don’t get it! Violence isn’t the answer, you can’t keep making me hurt you! I love you, Nai, this is wrong! You have to love humans like I do, you can’t keep being so mean, and rude, and violent, you can’t try to force your feelings on us! All it ever does is hurt everyone! All I want is love and peace, don’t you get it? You’re just making everything worse! Why can’t you accept it and join me, and we can make everything better together! We can bring everyone to Paradise, and we won’t have to suffer, no one will! If we just forgive them all, we can make a place were no one hurts anyone! Isn’t that what you want?!”

Nai pushed himself up onto an elbow and then back onto his feet, wiping blood from his lips and meeting his brother’s gaze.

“I want the truth,” he said simply. “I want this ugly reality we live in, Vash, where humans are flawed and imperfect, where we’re just as flawed as they are. Where we can hate and rage as freely as we can love, and where we have to work to understand each other-- because what I’ve learned is that if everything is peaceful, if there’s nothing but love, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s shallow, Vash. Your love is shallow and empty.”

He managed a weak smile, but a real one. “There are people I’ve grown to care about, Vash, in this filthy, flawed world. And it’s because I hate humanity that the feelings I have for them mean anything at all. I would rather live in Purgatory with that truth than a Paradise that’s a lie. Wouldn’t you?”

Vash froze. Eyes wide, lips parted, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“You’re lying!” He screamed, finally, tears rolling down his face. “Nobody would want that! You would never want that! Nobody wants to live in a world full of pain and sorrow, where people hurt each other! Where there’s loss, and hunger, and where people do awful things to survive! You’re wrong, you’re wrong, Nai!”

He threw himself at Nai, tackling them both to the ground. “But it’ll-- it’ll be okay,” he insisted wildly, frenzied, mask shattered and face twisted in panicked hysteria. “I’ll take you inside me too, Nai, so you don’t have to lie to me anymore, so you don’t have to try and pretend this is all okay! It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, you’ll see!”

Nai choked out a gasp-- shit, he thought frantically, as the wings and feathers bursting from Vash exploded around him, around the both of them, melding to his own skin and threatening to drag him in. he struggled helplessly, pushing at it all, but Vash was not to be moved, not to be budged.

It was impossible to escape, he realized. Vash’s powers were stronger, somehow. He’d always been the weaker one when they were kids, the closer to human-- but did that mean he was just-- another kind of plant? One-- one that was capable of this? The way he’d absorbed all those plants, the power he held now-- he resonated so much more strongly than he did. He was-- he’d be devoured.

No, no, no, he didn't want--

They were ripped apart forcefully all of a sudden, Nai thrown backwards as Vash staggered, wings pulling back towards him as he gasped for air and trembled. 

“M-Milord, I’m sorry, I--”

Legato had burst into the room, arm flung out, eyes wide and panicked and breathing heavily. He’d stopped it…?

His vision swam as he watched the two of them. Vash smiled, shaking himself off and forcing his composure in place. “No, no, Legato, don’t apologize,” he said. “I lost my head a little there! I don’t want Nai to go away at all, I don’t want to hurt him, so thank you for stopping me.” He watched Vash ruffle Legato’s hair fondly. “You did really good.”

Legato shuddered slightly, trembling, a strange sort of shadow passing over his face. “...of course, my angel. Thank you…”

“Anyway,” Vash continued. “Can you do something for me? I want you to watch over Nai for me for a while. Don’t hurt him, okay, but I want him to stay put. Think you can do that?”

“Anything for you,” Legato said, and...whatever else might have come after that, Nai didn’t hear, as his consciousness faded out.

He came to much later, unable to move. 

Legato was beside him, knelt as in prayer, but those empty gold eyes were focused solely on him. 

He’d been stripped down, he realized, and his arm taken from him. A precaution, he supposed, but definitely a dramatic one.

The room was dark, and he winced when light cut through it as Vash entered, crouching down to where he was pinned on his own knees, arm bent behind him, though not enough that it hurt.

“Sorry about this, Nai, but you misbehave too much,” Vash said. “Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you. Isn't he impressive, though? Legato’s incredible. I’ve never seen power like what he has before, and he’s been really, really helpful all this time.”

He smiled, and Nai shuddered. He could see why Legato was so devoted, but in that devotion there was a horror to it, something that shouldn’t be.

“...I knew already,” Nai told him softly. “About our hair. Vash, did you think I didn’t? I’ve met so many plants all this time. Plants humans had drained dry, pushed to their Last Runs. I’ve seen so many of our sisters having suffered and died. I knew what it was when my hair turned black, too.” He swallowed. “But, Vash…even if I hate them for how they’ve treated our sisters, how I can’t forgive--"

“It was you who caused it.” Nai glared up at him. “You brought them down to this planet. You forced them into this Purgatory where they have to demand too much of our kind to survive. If it weren’t for that, maybe-- maybe things would be different. I don’t know. Maybe not-- but because of you, we’ll never find out. It’s your fault.”

Vash hissed out a breath like he’d been struck, and Nai cried out as Legato lashed out in turn, bending his body back painfully, until Vash told him to stop. 

So this was what it was going to be like.

Vash turned to go, and he couldn’t help but call after him.

“Do you really think you’re doing the right thing, Vash?! After all this time…you still really believe you’re sending people to a better place?”

He shuddered. “You’re not letting them try, Vash,” he said. “You’ve given up on them just like I did. You have to realize that. You’re just concealing it in this crusade towards Paradise, without letting them live and learn.” An exhale. “Rem wouldn’t have wanted this.”

Vash flinched, and turned back. “I haven’t,” he insisted. ‘I love humanity, and I have so much faith in them. It’s because I love them that I’m doing this, why can’t you see? I just want them to be happy. And in Eden, they will be. That’s what it’s for, a paradise without suffering. I believe in them, that’s why I want them to be at peace!”

“You have!” Nai shouted back. “You and I both gave up on humans the same day! The day we found Tesla, the day we both went mad!”

Vash took a step back as if struck, eyes flickering-- for a moment, a shadow of a moment, he thought he saw his brother, but then it disappeared.

“I haven’t forgotten Tesla,” he said. “Of course not! She was the sacrifice. Like Jesus. She died for humanity’s sins, Nai. It’s because of her we were sent here to forgive them and love them and take them to Paradise.”

“She didn’t,” Nai told him, shakily, voice tight. “She died because humans are cruel, and violent. They tore her apart out of scientific curiosity, and didn’t stop even though they saw they were hurting her. She didn’t die for anyone’s sins. We both know that. You don’t have to forgive it, Vash. I can’t, I never can, and you don’t need to either. But-- the point is to try despite that. To make an effort, even when you don’t think it’s worth it.”

It’s how he’d found family, in this wasteland. Found friends. Even without forgiving their kind, with effort…he could still find reasons to care.

“It’s not enough, Nai,” Vash said. “You can’t just pick and choose humans worth caring about! That’s selfish. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you understand?!”

He spun on a heel. “It’s fine,” he said, high and upset, tearfully. “It’s fine if you don’t. Because I do. And I’ll lead everyone to Paradise, where we can all be happy. And then maybe, maybe you’ll learn too. Maybe you’ll finally understand, and be happy alongside us.”

And with that, he walked away. “Vash!” Nai screamed after him. “Vash, don’t keep running from reality! Vash!!!” 

But he didn’t hear him.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 16
Escape

The past seven months had been a hell unlike anything either Livio or Razlo had imagined possible.

It started that moment-- that moment after Nai had disappeared up the stairs, and he’d felt it, heard it, a voice he’d never wanted to hear again even as he had cracked and made to attack Elendira to get past her towards those steps.

Chapel.

Razlo had been furious he’d survived their attack on the way out, and so had he. Crippled, but alive-- there was a sick satisfaction in that, even if he was frustrated he wasn’t dead.

And then…

Someone else was there, their Punisher pointed at his head.

And when he saw who it was, he wanted to scream.

Nico.

Nico was there, blank faced, completely covered in black with a thick, heavy leather collar around his neck, silver cross laying over his collarbones. There was a black blindfold over his eyes, too, hiding them from view, and he was so, so quiet.

He’d been so quiet.

All seven of these long months, Nico hadn’t said a word to him-- had barely said a word at all, save a few Bible verses whilst they were slaughtering-- sending souls to Paradise-- on Vash’s orders. He hadn’t been able to have a moment alone with him either; Chapel seemed almost militant in that, Nico hovering by his side at all times.

It was like…Nico didn’t even know he was there. Like Chapel didn’t want him to.

It made him sick, filled his mouth with bile and his gut with ugly guilt. What had he done? It was his fault Nico was like this. Chapel might have made it worse, tamed him into an attack dog on a leash, but he had broken his brother in the first place.

Was it even possible to…

No. No, he’d save Nico if it killed him. If it was the last thing he ever did.

And he’d save Nai, too.

It had taken some planning and sneaking around, but he’d gotten everything ready. And now…

Now, in the chaos of the bomb he’d set off, he kicked the door of Nai’s cell open, his own Punisher unsheathed and on his shoulder, pointing at Legato.

“Nai!” He yelled. “We’re gettin’ outta here!”

Legato hissed, whipping around-- he looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes, as if he really had sat there for seven months straight to keep Nai from moving-- and he swore, his own limbs locking up. He shouldn’t have hesitated--!

“Traitor,” Legato rasped. “You would dare-- no matter, at least you’ll die quickly!” 

Livio growled uselessly, struggling against the weight of his power, but-- out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Nai shift and try to stand, and grinned.

“Thought so,” he said triumphantly. “You been pushing yourself way too hard for your precious angel, an’ now you’re too weak to hold us both at once--”

He cried out, though, his Punisher pushed up enough that it rammed into his chin and he staggered, fingers forced to turn the center mechanism, the missile launcher slowly pulled open point blank against his face.

“You should have just fired,” Legato snarled hoarsely. “Your gloating cost you your life.”

He grimaced, fighting his own body, but then-- “Nai, now!”

Knives whipped out, stabbing into Legato’s arms and back and throwing him across the room where he slumped, unconscious, and Nai staggered up even as Livio lowered his Punisher with a sigh of relief, slinging it over his shoulder again and grabbing the other man around the waist to help him.

Nai sagged against him, and he hissed, hefting him over his shoulder, too-- he could carry the weight. He carried so much as it was, and Nai…somehow, he was lighter than the cross he wielded. 

Barrelling through the halls of the Ark, he swore under his breath. They had to get to the escape pods, there had to be escape pods, right--?!

But there, in the hangar, was Nico, silent and still and standing above him, holding his own cross.

“Nico!” He cried, voice cracking. “Nico, it’s me! Stand down! Let me take him-- please! Don’t you recognize me?!”

His voice broke. “Nico, why don’t you say anything?! Don’t you remember?! The orphanage, our home, all the other kids-- don’t you remember me?!”

Silence. And then… “For I will forgive their wickedness, and will remember their sins no more.”

“That’s not an answer!” Livio wailed, Razlo letting out a cry of his own. But that was all he said, all he’d ever said this entire time. “Nico!”

But his brother spoke no more, instead hefting his Punisher and opening fire. He couldn’t-- he couldn’t carry his own and Nai at the same time, so he dropped them both, unsheathing his fangs to fire back.

“Nico, I don’t wanna hurt you! Stop!”

“Weak,” echoed behind him. “Your sentiment has always made you weak, boy.”

Chapel-- shit!

More gunfire, from behind him this time. He couldn’t-- he knew this was it. He couldn’t hurt Nico, no matter what, and that gave them both enough of an opening-- blood splattered everywhere, flesh tore, bones shattered, and he screamed. A howl of pain, of rage, of a broken heart, a hope that had been shattered.

Nico…I just wanted to save you…like you saved me.

It’s all my fault. Because of me, this happened…and all I ever wanted was to bring you home. Back to the orphanage, back to our home, where we were happy. 

I just wanted to make it up to everyone…to protect the other kids. To do right by them, after everything we did…

But in the end, I’m only a wolf. That’s all I’ve ever been…and wolves can’t save anyone.

They can only bare their fangs…right…? All the things we’ve done…I’ll never be absolved, will I? I’ll…always just keep piling on more. 

“Then let me carry them, too.”

His eyes fluttered open from where he’d collapsed against a wall to see-- 

“N...Nai?”

He was curled around him protectively, knives and wings unfurled like a shield, like a comforting shroud, glaring up at Nico and Chapel. 

“I’ll make your sins mine, too, Livio,” he said quietly. “Just don’t die.”

“Nai…” He coughed blood. “Y-You’re awake. I…p-please…Nico…don’t…”

“I won’t,” Nai promised, and his world went black for a while.

It’s over. Our angel’s been gathering his power, fusing with plants for eight months now. You couldn’t even hope to match that power. You’ve been beaten. Give up.

…I won’t. That man…he’s been nothing but kind to me, despite everything. He was willing to carry my sins for me, stain his hands so I didn’t have to. So I don’t really care if I can win or not. I intend to return the favor. That’s reason enough for me to keep fighting right now.

Livio’s eyes flickered open to the sound of panicked sobbing.

“...wh…?”

“Livio!” 

His eyes tracked hazily to the side, where Nai-- oh, he looked exhausted, pale and almost grey, soaked in sweat and trembling, eyes wide and wild with terror he’d never seen on him before. “...Nai?”

“Livio-- oh, God, please don’t die-- you--”

Oh. Oh, he’d never…that’s right.

Livio took stock of himself, vision swimming and mind sluggish, but aware enough to process his own condition. It was…bad. He was missing a leg, and definitely couldn’t feel one of his arms, so that too, and his abdomen had been filled with bullets enough it had shattered his ribcage; he could spot more than a few organs in the ruined mass of blood and flesh and bone. Oof. That was gonna take a little bit. No wonder Nai was panicking.

“Shh…” He got out, coughing a little on the reassurance, tasting copper. “M’okay. M’gonna be okay. Jus’...jus’ gimme a few minutes…”

“Don’t-- you c-can’t be serious!” Nai howled, distraught, hand coming to frantically attempt to do something, shoving his innards back in, covering himself with Livio’s blood as well. “You’re-- you-- no one could survive--”

“I can,” he managed, good arm coming up to wrap around Nai’s shoulder and pull him closer, away from the mess of his torso. “S’...s’what th’ Eye of Michael did t’me.”

“The…the Eye of…?”

“The Eye of Michael,” Livio repeated, staring up at the sky-- where had they fallen? Some kind of crevice, it seemed. “...s’...s’a church of plant worshippers, but…also a group of assassins an’ killers. T’their people, th’ ones they take in, they…enhance them. Procedures, experiments, it…” He exhales, trembling with the memories. “We get stronger. Faster. Our senses are…better’n other humans, beyond ‘em. An’ for me…m’the best one they ever made. I heal…regenerate from almost anything y’can throw at me. Practically…practically immortal.”

Even as he spoke, his leg was piecing itself together, skin and bone regrowing inch by inch, his ribs mending and flesh crawling back across them.

“...but…there’s a cost,” he half-whispered. “We…aged faster. I’m…only seventeen, Nai. Even…even if I went home, they wouldn’t…”

He let out a sob, and to his surprise, he felt Nai curl around him, clutching him and shaking.

“Their own kind,” Nai choked out, voice wet and horrified. “Oh god, they’d do this to their own kind…it-- it was bad enough to see Tesla like this, but-- to you, too? To-- to children…?”

Livio swallowed a lump in his throat. “...to Nico,” he whispered. “My big brother.”

Nai stilled. “...the man I saw.” He said, voice rough.

“Mmhm,” he nodded a little. “Not…blood, but…close enough like. He…it’s my fault,” he gasped out, tears flooding his eyes. “It’s my fault…I ruined everything. Because of me...”

He should have run away that day, after Jasmine’s dog. He should have left.

But Nico had been waiting on the steps that night, and he didn’t.

And it all went downhill from there.

Nico had tried to defend him, protecting him from the stares and anger of the other kids. But it hadn’t helped.

His blackouts had only gotten worse, more violent-- he’d broken so many things, hurt the other kids. Killed some of the toma chicks. Auntie had tried to help, tried to comfort him, but he could tell she didn’t know what to do either.

Nico was the only one defending him, even when the other kids grew fearful and afraid, even when the other kids started lashing out at him, pushing him away. 

It only drew him closer to Nico, clinging to his older brother as the only one who ever loved him, ever cared. But…that’s what had made it so much worse in the end.

He didn’t remember what happened even now-- but Razlo did. Razlo did, and Razlo had confessed everything, later, when they could finally speak to one another, his other half sobbing in horror, having realized how badly he’d destroyed everything Livio had loved.

Razlo had cornered Nico one afternoon during chores. Found him in one of the storage rooms with a knife, aiming to kill. To take away the competition, to get rid of the boy Livio loved so much he might not need Razlo anymore. 

They’d fought, scuffled, rolling around in the room and knocking a canister of fuel over onto all of them. And then Nico’s lighter had slipped from his pocket, getting dented in the chaos by a stomped heel. Frantic, panicking, angry, he’d thrown it at Razlo by accident while tossing other bits of debris and fallen tools at him.

It had been dented-- and the catch had flipped when it made contact.

And Razlo’s-- his-- their face, drenched in gasoline, had caught fire.

By the time Livio had woken weeks later, Nico was gone. 

Lying there in his room, face swathed in bandages, he was told that Nico had been chosen. Left with someone from a church, to live and work there with them.

He’d been told that Nico had gone quietly. That Nico had shattered, sitting there screaming for help as Livio howled in pain, face burning. That his eyes had gone empty and cold and dead, broken by the fact that he’d hurt his little brother so badly.

That’s when he’d first met Razlo, at long last. Finally able to hear his other half, who had broken in his own way when he’d realized what had happened. What he’d done, what he’d caused. 

They could be broken together, at least, Livio had thought. They both had ruined everything, taking Nico away from everyone. Neither of them were capable of living innocently. 

The violence had stopped, as had the blackouts, but the other kids still avoided him after his burn healed into a scar and he was back on his feet. He didn’t blame them.

So when the church man came back a year later, he’d immediately volunteered. To go after Nico, to apologize, to bring him home.

And when he discovered the truth…he knew he had to fight. To get stronger. Strong enough to save Nico. Strong enough that the Eye would never look at the orphanage again, so that the other kids would be safe. Strong enough to stand on his own two feet, without relying on anyone, even Razlo, who had only ever been violent because violence was all he’d known. So that no one else would bleed for him, or sin for him. 

Strong enough to atone for what he’d done. Strong enough…to protect, for once, with the fangs he could never shed.

“...Livio…”

Nai’s voice trembled again, and he was silent for a long moment, his scarred fingers tracing the burn over Livio's left eye.

“...doesn’t hurt anymore,” Livio said quietly. “Maybe…maybe it’s masochistic of me, but…still carryin’ the same lighter. Smokin’ like Nico did. It…made me feel like he was there. But now…” His breath hitched.

“...I know,” Nai whispered. “I know, Livio.”

He did, didn’t he? About brothers.

“The old man, then…who was that?”

“Chapel,” Livio spit. “Our…mentor. We thought Razlo killed him on my way out…took his name, an’...came t’join the Guns. T’maybe kill Vash. Or jus’...prevent anyone else from bein’ hurt. I dunno. Guess he holds a grudge, though. Not that I blame ’im…m’sure they regret creatin’ me by now.”

He laughed weakly, wincing as it pulled and tore at the still-healing wounds. “...Nai…” He said softly. “It sucks, don’t it? To…point a weapon at your brother?”

“It does,” Nai said quietly. “It hurts more than anything else in the world.”

His head was on Nai’s lap by now, he realized, his good arm-- only arm-- resting on his head, fingers in his hair.

“Please, Nai…” He choked out. “Help me…save Nico. I don’t want everythin’ I’ve done…to be for nothin’. All the blood I’ve shed, the sins I carry…I…”

“I will,” Nai said softly. “You don’t carry them alone, Livio. Not anymore. You offered to carry mine, of your own will, so I’ll carry yours too.” He exhaled slowly.

“Do you know why I hate guns?” He asked suddenly, and Livio blinked up at him. “They’re too distant. Too easy. You point and you shoot, and that’s it. It makes it…so simple to forget you’re taking a life. I think that’s why Vash liked it. Because he could keep himself apart from what he was doing. But…I prefer my blades. To be close. To feel the weight of the lives I take, the blood I shed, the sins I’m committing. Even when I don’t realize what I’m doing at the time…the blood is still on my hands, on my knives. Not distant and far away from me, easy to ignore.”

Nai closed his eyes, and Livio swore he saw tears at their edges. “...but you’re different,” he said quietly. “You use guns, but the weight is just as much as someone who didn’t. You carry every life you take in that cross on your shoulders, and you don’t pretend otherwise. I’d never seen anyone like it before you. It’s…” 

“I am an undertaker,” Livio rasped. “I bury the bodies I create, every time…can’t forget ‘em. Can’t forget the lives my fangs snuff out…or Nico put his faith in us for nothin’. Or I stop bein’ that boy from back then.”

Silence again, for a long moment.

“...we were little,” Nai said suddenly, quietly. “When we found our sister. Like us, not the plants you see. They’d torn her into pieces out of curiosity. To study her. We saw the files, the reports, the pictures…and her body, in pieces, floating in tanks. Her eyes and her brain, her organs spilling out…humans did that to her.”

He swallowed. “It was almost me, after that. I was almost the one to destroy humanity, full of rage and hatred. But Rem-- she convinced me to let humans try. To give them the chance to be better. And Vash…he gave up on everyone, too. He gave up, and decided to love and forgive them all without even trying to understand them for what they were, accept their flaws and their imperfections. He embraces a humanity that doesn't exist, a delusion of all-loving devotion that he made up in his head to justify it. He’s run away from the truth, thinking it’s better to send everyone to a paradise where no one hurts than face the pain and face reality, face that humans are flawed and ugly, and it takes effort, and sometimes love and peace doesn’t work. And that has to be okay.”

Livio exhaled slowly. “M’sorry they did that to your sister,” he whispered, realizing why Nai had panicked so badly seeing the state he was in, was so aghast to know what was done to him. No wonder…no wonder the twins were like that. No wonder. They’d been turned into wolves too young, too. 

“S’not right. We’re not all bad, Nai, I-- I promise. We’re tryin’, too. We stumble, an’ we fail, an’ we screw up all the time…God knows I’m not perfect, God knows I got so much blood on my hands, too…but we’re tryin’, every day, to be good.”

“I know,” Nai told him. “I know you are. And that you try means more to me than any Eden Vash tries to create.”

They both fell silent after that again, too exhausted to keep talking. Livio almost drifted off to Nai’s fingers in his hair, before they were stirred awake by the sound of a ship above their heads-- 

And voices calling their names, as Brad ran towards them, eyes wide. 

As they recovered on Home, bundled up in blankets and bandages, Brad filled them in on what was going on around them.

Vash’s ship-- the Ark-- was heading in the direction of December (and that made him go a little cold), and every other city was evacuating, a mad dash to get out of the way of the destruction. 

And…and according to their calculations, the fleet from Earth might be arriving earlier. A lot earlier. Months at the latest. And…that would mean Vash, having fused with countless plants by now…with the fleet carrying even more plants, and his arms able to fire at such massive distances…

It had to end, and soon.

While Nai was away, talking logistics to Luida and Brad and checking on Home’s plants again-- understandably, given what Vash had been up to-- he’d been given some new clothes to change into, given the ones he’d been wearing for so long had been shredded and destroyed. Livio didn’t mind; it felt like he was finally shedding the name of Doublefang along with his last ties to the Eye. Soon, he told himself. Soon, Nico would too.

Not that he didn’t feel a little naked, in just black jeans and a white shirt, fangs safely in a leather harness strapped across his chest and shoulders. It felt like something was missing, but for the life of him he couldn’t say what.

“Mr Livio!”

He jumped, turning-- “Jessica!” The young woman and a few of the other kids from Home were hurrying up to him, clutching a bundle to them. “What’s up, what’s all that?”

“A gift,” Jessica said. “For, um…for taking care of Nai, and getting him home safe. He really likes you, and, um…that means a lot.”

“Oh,” Livio said, and took the bundle they were offering. It was a black poncho, like he remembered seeing in old comics about cowboys when he was little, a bit sloppily stitched but clearly made with a lot of love. “I-- thanks, guys.”

One of the kids, a little boy, smiled at him. “You’re really cool, Mr Livio. You an’ Nai come back, okay? You gotta.”

It…

It wasn’t the orphanage, no, but…he smiled. “We will,” he promised, swinging the poncho onto his shoulders. “Don’t you worry ‘bout that. We’ll kick some ass an’ get back here safe an’ sound.”

In the end, that gift was what made him choose.

He wanted to stay by Nai’s side to the end, he did. But he had something more important to do, something that mattered more to him than anything else in the world.

He had to go home. Those kids and their gift…they’d reminded him of the kids there. The orphanage, the children he’d loved, the children he’d hurt. The children who still waited for Nico to come back to them one day.

Boy, you sure do cry a lot…three days is a whole new record for a new kid. I’m Nicholas. Want some bread?

While Nai stood against his brother, to stop him, to save him…

He’d bring his own brother home. No matter what. 

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 17
Punisher

There were guards on the perimeter leading into December-- towards the place he still called home, even if it didn't want him-- helping guide the evacuees away, but for Livio, that wasn’t much of a problem. He just ignored them and powered through on his bike, speeding through the gate and shooting the lock off with one of his fangs as he went.

Things like those? They couldn’t keep him from where he most needed to be.

As he drove through familiar streets, caught sight of a familiar cliffside in the distance, his mind drifted to the past. Not that he didn’t think about it constantly, but…to be home. To be on his way home, even if he could never be a part of it again…

He remembered when he first arrived. He’d been eight, his parents’ blood still on his hands, unable to remember where the knife came from. Now he could look back and be glad they’re dead, after what they’d done to him, but at the time, it had been a twisted mess of feelings that had made him sick with crying, curled up alone and refusing to talk to anyone.

And then Nico had approached him. Cut right through his self-pity and reminded him that all the kids here felt the way Livio did, worthless and abandoned and unwanted. Had dragged him off to help wash dishes that day, and…that day had been the first day a spark of something that wasn’t hopelessness and despair had flickered.

And days followed after, little by little…and then came that day. The day Jasmine had tried to rescue her puppy and gotten stuck on an overhanging beam, terrified of falling. The day he’d rescued her without thinking, his small, skinny body moving before he could register it had.

That day-- that day had taught him how to love, for the first time. 

And that day marked the beginning of the end.

The more he grew close to the other kids, to Auntie, to Nico-- the more he spent time with them, helping with chores, playing with the toma, learning and changing bit by bit, the more he spent time on the roof watching Nico sneak cigarettes and curled up napping together in the sun, finding a family that loved him at long last, a brother he adored more than he loved himself-- the more Razlo grew restless, angry, dissatisfied. Jealous. A wolf born of pain, unable to understand the lack of it, and unable to do anything with that but bare his fangs.

And that’s when Jasmine’s puppy had died, and he’d woken up with blood all over his hands and the other kids staring at him, whispering in fear and resentment, Jasmine fleeing from him whenever their eyes met.

He’d tried to run away that very night, sick and furious at himself-- but Nico had caught him. He’d been sitting there all night, waiting, the click of his lighter as he played with it in the dark echoing against the stone buildings. Don’t be a coward, Liv, he’d said. Facin’ stuff like-- whatever’s goin’ on with you is easier with others. I’ll take care of you, promise.

And then it had all fallen apart, bit by bit, and by the time he’d been there for three years, Nico had left them. 

A blur of motion in front of him made him brake his bike suddenly, jerking a little at the motion before he realized-- he knew that kid.

“Hey, watch it,” his mouth moved before he thought about it. “I coulda hit you.”

The boy-- Claude, he thinks, the little guy who was always too scared to go to the bathroom by himself-- glared at him definitely. “Sorry…but no one stops when we call out,” he said. “Please, mister, we need help.”

His chest clenched, but he immediately stood from his bike, grabbing his Punisher off its perch behind him. “Had a feelin’,” he muttered, and then louder: “Where’s Miss Melanie? Is she at the orphanage?”

“H-how did you--?”

He swallowed. “I knew her from a while ago,” he lied, watching other children creep out from behind buildings. Oh, he knew half of them. Some of them must be newcomers, after the left, but some of them he remembered, and it made part of him want to start crying. “S’gonna be okay, guys. Tell me everything.”

They’d taken over the orphanage, he was told. The whole group had been packing to leave when they came-- twelve of them, and had taken some of the kids and Auntie prisoner. Weird men, he was told, with crosses like his. Five of them patrolling the grounds, five unseen. Scary. 

That Nico was scary to them now, if he was there…he hated himself more and more by the moment for being the one to do this to the brother they’d actually missed.

“Hey, wait a minute--” One of the kids piped up as they were talking. “Where’d Cactus go?”

He froze, and turned to the group of them, looking around frantically. “He was just here! Where’d he--”

“He took the gun!” One of the girls yelped, indicating one of the big packs of supplies they’d managed to escape with. 

“Shit!” Livio swore, jumping to his feet. “Idiot, what’d he go off on his own for! You guys all stay here, I’ll go get ‘im!”

Leaping back on the bike, he sped off, eyes fixed on the horizon, on the desert between him and the place he called home-- and on the orphanage, that distant star that had been the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that kept him human.

Hey…I was thinking…did we meet him before? He looked really familiar. 

Yeah, that scar on his face…he looks a lot like-- but he wouldn’t be that old, would he?

Blood, explosions and fire. Death, as he sped across the desert, the cyborg mercenaries waiting for him no match for his fangs-- even just one of them, his other hand still on the handlebars of his bike. 

This is what they’d made him into. This is what they’d torn the boy Livio apart and stitched him back together to create. Their perfect monster, their pride and joy. How many times had he heard that, even when he still thought himself too weak? His aptitude for the treatments had been beyond any of their reckoning. Razlo’s violence had been praised, admired. In another world, he would have slipped into the Eye of Michael and found a twisted home-- the first and only place he could exist as a wolf and be wanted for it, the only place where his bloodied fangs were accepted. 

But for Nico-- for his home, for their sakes, for the sake of that part of him that had been born from love and family-- he hadn’t. He had held onto crybaby Livio...but even then.

Even then, he would always be made of violence. Always be good at it. Even then, he would dig graves and feel nothing as he did it, while his humanity gave him only the ability to cry over the deed afterwards. Cowardly, pathetic and weak, he supposed. No matter how strong he became, he wouldn't be strong enough. Even if he wanted to carry his sins for his own sake, no longer let anyone bare their fangs and bleed for him…

Don’t start that shit now, Liv. We got better things to do.

I know. You’re with me?

Always will be. Even if you think you ain’t strong enough…we’re the fuckin’ strongest together. Remember that.

Yeah. 

He skidded to a halt and finally dismounted, ignoring the scattered bodies behind him-- or he tried to, until a mechanical whirr caught his attention and he spun around.

“Wait--”

The fallen cyborg cackled, its back opening to reveal a massive missile within it, pointing at-- no, fuck, no. “Feast your eyes on this!” He cackled. “War is a fickle bitch, though, killer, it’s a real damn shame you didn’t see this coming!”

“Stop!” Livio shouted, already tearing off towards him. “Damn you, stop!”

“Absolutely not! Not after this humiliation!” The cyborg yowled. “I don’t give a shit! Eat this!”

He was just that little bit too far away. “Damn it, no! Stop!” He cried out, even as the missile fired itself, even as-- as for a moment he was a kid again, not knowing what else to do. “Nico!”

Nico was there.

Silent, blindfolded, all in black, but there. There as he wordlessly caught that missile, throwing it back towards the cyborgs.

He landed silently, the explosion painting the sky behind him, and Livio swallowed thickly. 

“Everything be cleansed with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness,” Nico murmured, empty and hollow.

“Please, for the love of God, Nico, say something that isn’t scripture,” Livio begged. “It doesn’t suit you.”

If only Nico were here…

Yes…Nicholas would be able to help us. But Linda, he isn’t here. We have to take care of ourselves. We can’t rely on someone who isn’t here anymore.

Silence. 

“Nico…” Livio sighed, pulling out his dented lighter-- Nico’s old lighter-- and flipping it in his hand, lighting a cigarette and breathing the smoke out in a cloud.

Did Nico’s head shift towards it? He hoped so. He hoped the smell, the sounds, would bring something back. “I wish we could talk like we used to. One more time, at least…oh, you’d hate this, wouldn’t you? What we’ve become? You always used to insist I was too soft, couldn’t hurt a fly…and you always wanted to protect us all so much. But now you’re here threatening the people you would’ve given anything to keep safe, and I’m covered in so much blood I can barely stand.”

He closed his eyes. “But there’s nothing we can do about it, is there? There’s no going back. Our hands are bloody, our fangs are sharpened. Our bodies are old before their time. There’s so much I want to tell you-- so much you need to know, Nico. About what happened, about Razlo.”

He let the cigarette fall from his mouth, stepping on it with his boot. “But the time for that’s long gone, isn’t it? So let’s dance, and when this is over…when this is over, we’ll have all the time in the world to catch up. I promise.” 

Maybe he couldn’t keep that promise-- but he knew, that if one of them wasn’t making it out…it’d be him. Because Nico was the one everyone wanted. If he died to give him back to them…so be it. Maybe that would finally absolve him.

They both moved all at once, the moment words hit the air. Nico’s Punisher-- God, he used it so well, too well, almost better than him-- and his own fangs, his cross forgotten for the moment where he’d buried it in the sand.

But-- the difference in skill was obvious quickly.

He was far, far better than Nico. Maybe his brother could use his solo Punisher with that much more skill, given it was his only weapon, but in every other regard, Livio was the superior. Speed, reflexes, regenerative ability…he outclassed Nico in every way. He really was the Eye’s masterpiece, up against an inferior prototype.

But even so-- he was struggling. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know why.

It was because Nico was a prototype. Because he was weaker. Because he watched his brother stagger and slip a vial from his pocket, bullet holes fading in smoke. 

He couldn’t kill his brother. And yet, he also couldn’t risk pushing him too hard-- he knew the price of that serum. If he made Nico have to take too many…

“Nico,” he begged again. “Please. Stop. You’ll die.” 

Silence, as usual, and then, as if he truly could say nothing else-- “If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord.”

“For fuck’s sake, Nico, say something else!”

Gunfire sprayed from behind him, suddenly, and he leapt out of the way, skidding on the sand and spinning around, fury blazing through him-- he knew the only other person it might be, and he was right.

“You disappoint me,” Chapel said, the old man glaring at him, gun pointed directly at him-- though there were tears in his eyes, and the thing that Livio loathed most about the man was that they were genuine. “You, my most perfect creation, the one I put so much faith in, struggling like this? For what, unnecessary sentiment? He is your enemy-- you kill him. It should be as simple as that. And yet you have never been able to cut that out of you. It is on me, your mentor, for that oversight.”

“Fuck you,” Livio spat. “What did you do to Nico?”

Chapel laughed. “Why, whatever was necessary. He was such a desperate child when he arrived, and it was thanks to you, was it not? So desperate for forgiveness and absolution, he would do anything to earn it-- so we gave it to him, what he needed most. So long as he is our obedient soldier, he will be able to repent for his sins, just as he wishes. His devotion to it is truly admirable-- his talent for killing is almost as much as yours, and he has long since given up any of his weakness, unlike you.”

“You--!!”

He opened fire with a scream of outrage. 

“Your body is strong, Livio, but your mind is weak!” Chapel cried over the gunfire, all three of them firing at once. “It is my greatest shame that I could never teach you better!”

“Shut up!” 

He was right, though, wasn't he, Livio reflected as bullets tore through him. He might really lose this fight-- and not because he wasn’t strong enough; he was stronger than Nico, probably stronger than Chapel at this point now that he was wheelchair bound and on his last metaphorical legs. He could easily kill them both, and maybe he could take out Chapel if Nico didn’t get in the way, but--

Nico.

He wasn’t strong enough to fight Nico, to save Nico, to risk Nico’s life. Not after everything he’d been through to save him. He couldn’t-- not when people were waiting for Nico to come home.

“You have too much faith in others!” He heard Chapel say, distantly-- his ears were ringing, the blood in his mouth keeping him from words, his vision swimming at the amount of damage he was slowly accumulating. “You rely on your brother to wake up and save you, you rely on that man, on Knives the Reaper, to save the world, when he is a killer just as we are! Your sentiment will be your end!”

I--

Liv. I’ll take it from here.

…okay.

His body moved, flinging himself through the hail of bullets towards the martyr’s cross that still stood waiting for him-- would that he had all three, but not even Chapel had thought to be so charitable about it this day. The port welded to his back ached with disuse, but now wasn’t the time for that to change. Maybe it never would, from now on.

But that was immaterial.

Ripping the Punisher out of the ground and tearing the cloth off with one motion, Razlo spun on shaky, bleeding legs, eyes blazing.

“His sentiment is what ya should really be afraid of, old man!” Razlo snarled. “An’ you keep his name outta your fuckin’ mouth! That man-- Knives might be a killer jus’ like we are, but every fuckin’ day he chooses to be better’n that! Better’n us, more than this!”

Chapel-- not expecting to see him, perhaps-- was momentarily lost for words, and Razlo laughed. “You think Liv’s weak, ya think Knives can’t do shit-- yeah, right! The real strongest ones here are the ones that deny their nature, the ones that spit blood ta be human!”

He grinned viciously, spitting blood of his own as if in emphasis. “An’ no matter what he says, no matter how much has changed-- I’ll always be here ta bring the fangs for him so he can keep livin’ the way he wants! An’ now, Master C--” He spit the name with venom, the words he’d once used at first, when they’d just arrived. “--I’ll bury ‘em in your fuckin’ throat!”

He threw himself into the fight, then, towards Chapel and towards Nico-- if Livio couldn’t hack it, he would. He’d risk it, he’d risk their brother’s life to save him. He had faith in that man’s will to live. He had to.

He had to--

He had--

Chapel laughed, something in his voice that sent every enhanced sense of his ringing alarm bells through his battered body, and flipped his Punisher over. He’d never thought there was more than just a gun in his, what was he--

Fire.

A gout of flame spit from that weapon, casting an unsettling light on the old man’s face-- as if he were demon straight from hell. A flamethrower? When did he--

That was all Razlo could coherently process before his mind shut off.

The fire-- the flame, the heat, the crimson light-- 

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Help, Nico, help, it hurts, I’m sorry, it hurts it hurts it hurtsithurtsithurts! I’m sorry I’m sorry please put it out Nico please help me---

Screaming filled his mind, two terrified children on the day it all fell apart, screaming and fire and terror and pain, and he could no longer think or see in the midst of it. He knew, he’d known, he’d known about this about his weakness his fear and he-- and he--

“I will show you hell, Livio! Razlo! I will butcher those you clung onto sentiment for, one by one, and that is how I will get my revenge!” Chapel roared. “You, my most perfect disciple, my most beloved, betraying me so deeply, so thoroughly! I will not have it! Everything I did for you, for the both of you, and this is how you have repaid me?! You will suffer!”

When Razlo’s mind came back to him, he was on the ground. His body was-- burns covered it, flames having consumed half his poncho, his hat long since fallen somewhere. Flesh blackened and twisted, one of his arms and shoulders melted near to exposed bone. He couldn’t feel part of his face, his vision blurred. 

Chapel’s Punisher, the long, pointed end, was buried into his once-again exposed guts, bullets having torn him open yet again. Nico stood beside him, looming there like a long dark and silent shadow, splattered in his own blood.

And in the edges of his vision-- in the edges of it, where he lay face up, head tilted back-- was Auntie. Auntie and the other kids.

Distantly, he heard Auntie shouting, defending the knot of kids, terror on their faces. He couldn’t make out words just yet, his ears still repairing themselves, the ringing so terribly loud like church bells.

“…care about them so much.” Chapel’s voice filtered in slowly, vicious and amused and terrible. “Perhaps that is why he refused to let you go, why he turned against even me in the end.”

No, Razlo thought frantically. No, no, don’t tell them! Don’t let them see him-- see them like this! He’s even more of a monster now! Look at him, a hideous creature, a bloodied horror, on top of the fear he’d already instilled in them before he left-- please, no, please--

A sob escaped him that sounded an awful lot like don’t.

“Don’t you recognize him?” Chapel taunted. “This man, begging me not to reveal him to you. This monster he’s become-- or perhaps he already was one, from what I have heard. The wolf you kept among your flock for so long, the demon who stole one of your own from you. What we’ve done to him changed his appearance greatly, but he cannot change what he has always been. Your cursed child.”

A foot slammed into his chin, tilting his head back fully, and his eyes met Auntie’s. His scar visible-- and unmistakable, he thought faintly-- as her eyes widened in horror.

“--Livio--?!” 

He sobbed again. A tear ran down his ruined, healing face.

“No,” Chapel gloated, clearly delighted to be the one to do this to him, to torment him, to make him suffer in the worst way he could have chosen. “Meet the devil inside him, the creature who took away your precious Nicholas.”

“...please…” Razlo forced out, his charred throat finally healed enough to speak.

He squeezed his eyes shut, breath shuddering. Livio sobbed raggedly, gasping out apologies no one else but him could hear.

“...oh, Livio, look what you’ve done to yourself…”

His eyes snapped open. Auntie was looking at him-- not with hatred or fear, but sorrow. Maybe even sympathy. “No…I don’t know what you call yourself, but you’re the one who’s always taken care of Livio, aren’t you? He’s always tried so hard to carry his burdens alone, when you know his heart is too gentle for that, and you’ve always tried to look out for him in your own way, even when you didn’t know how. And now look where that’s gotten the two of you.”

A tear ran down her face. “But you came back for us,” she said. “You came to protect us. After everything you’ve been through, you still see us as home…”

No…she shouldn’t cry over them. Not them. Not when Nico was right there, unseeing, unhearing, because of him. 

She was right-- Livio was too gentle, he never knew how not to hurt others, and…and they were just a mess. A hot mess, who wasn’t able to even protect them when he was the only one left who could.

Maybe he really would die here, unable to heal. Here in front of the only place they’d ever wanted to call home.

…

…why…was he thinking about him?

That man…that fellow wolf, who had offered to make his burden his own, too. Who knew what it was like to mourn a brother, wish to save a brother. Who tried so hard to keep his fangs from harming others…someone who might be-- his very first friend…

…maybe if he was here, then…

Chapel’s boot slammed into the dirt next to his head.

“I’ll spare you further pain,” he said. “I will take everything from you, piece by piece, Razlo. Livio. This is where it gets fun.”

His Punisher lifted from where it was buried in his guts, up, up towards Auntie and the kids-- “No!” He screamed it, body pushing itself to the limit to heal faster, faster, hands reaching out even as flesh and bone restructured itself to grab him, tackle him, keep him from firing--

Something’s shadow fell on them.

The sound of bullets ringing against steel; no, something more than steel.

A blade sliced past his cheek, digging into Chapel’s arm and making him recoil even as Razlo fell back, stunned, and--

His head turned behind him. His heart-- their heart-- skipped a beat.

Nai…?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 18
Wolfwood

Nai…?

Why was he-- why was he here? He had his own brother to stop, his own brother to save. He shouldn’t be…

“I told you,” Nai said, voice quiet. “Like you, I’m choosing to make your sins my own. Let me return the favor, now.”

Livio-- he felt Razlo retreat, overwhelmed by eyes on him, by the pain, unable to take anymore of it-- swallowed, forcing himself upright to unsheathe the fangs that Razlo had tucked away. “Thank you,” he said. 

“You--” Auntie started, and Nai threw a slight smile over his shoulder.

“I’m Livio’s friend,” he said simply. “You should go back inside until this is over. We’ll protect you.”

Livio appreciated it, he thought, as he lifted his fangs towards the recovering Chapel and the still-unresponsive Nico. The kids shouldn’t have to see him hurt their big brother.

“Can you hold Nico off for me?” He asked Nai. “Just need long enough to take out the old man.”

Nai’s gaze went cold and hard as he glanced over at Chapel, clearly remembering what he'd been told. “Do what you need to do. I’ll keep your brother busy.”

No further words were needed, as Nai vaulted past him, blades out, towards Nico, who whipped his Punisher up in response to start firing. As for Livio, he started firing too, charging Chapel with a howl of determination.

He’d kill him. He’d kill him, and then they’d find a way to save Nico. There had to be a way.

Gunfire and the clash of steel echoed across the desert, blood coating the sand as the four of them danced, fangs bared, tearing at each other’s throats like the beasts they were. There was no greater violence than this-- than the instinctual, animal fight to survive, to live another day. And yet, there was nothing more human than this-- the fight to protect, and to save another.

Finally, finally, he had Chapel on the ground, ripped from his chair and Punisher out of his hands, and he laughed-- laughed wild and full of triumph.

“It ends now, old man,” he snarled. “An’ I can’ think of a better way for you to go. At the hands of yer perfect disciple.”

Chapel just-- laughed in his face.

“Livio!” He heard Nai shout behind him, alarmed, but didn’t-- didn’t know why until arms were around his shoulders, his waist, a Punisher pressed lengthwise against his chest, and he felt himself being dragged backwards. 

“Nico--” He choked the words out, even as he opened fire on Chapel despite the man trying to restrain him. “Nico, let go--”

The click of a gun in the smoke and haze ahead of him, and he realized to his horror that he’d forgotten where his own Punisher had gone. 

And then a missile tore through him, trapped in place--

Tore through Nico behind him.

Livio screamed, even as Chapel’s laughter gave out into bloody, choking gasps.

“Whatever-- is necessary-- Nicholas the Punisher!” He screamed. “Use it all-- for your master!”

Livio’s bullets found his head, then, and Chapel spoke no more.

He spun, staggering, as Nico fell backwards, bleeding heavily, so heavily-- the cuts slashing through his suit were nothing that could kill him on their own, but the missile, the goddamn missile--

Nico staggered, dropping to his knees. Coughing up so, so much blood.

A hand went into his suit. Vials.

Two-- three of them?

“Even-- if I am to be-- poured out as a drink offering upon th-the sacrificial offering of-- of your faith, I am-- I am glad and-- rejoice with you all.”

“NICO, NO!” 

Livio screamed, trying to snatch the vials out of his hand before he took them-- but no, his motion was delayed, hesitating-- he’d die if he didn’t take them, but if he did-- if he did, if he drank that many all at once-- what did he do--?!

He was too late.

Three vials dropped empty to the sand, smoke pouring off Nico’s body as he straightened, lifting his Punisher again even as his legs wobbled.

Over his shoulder, Livio saw Nai. Their gazes met.

Nai nodded at him, once. An understanding passed through them, then, something like hope and fear and prayer and desperation.

Livio dropped his fangs.

Bullets fired over and over into him, but he ignored it. Ignored them as they tore point blank into his arms, his chest. His body was struggling to keep up even now, the wounds slower to heal. But he paid it no mind, instead shakily pulling out that dented old lighter and the last good cigarette he had in the bloody, shredded pack, lighting it with trembling fingers even through the gunfire tearing at him. 

Closer, and closer, until---

He punched Nico in the face once, hard, and knocked the Punisher away when Nico fell off balance. As he fell, unarmed, he caught him and held him tightly, one fist around that heavy collar as he dragged him into an embrace. Cigarette smoke wafted around them, the air thick with it-- with memories.

“Nico,” he said. “I’m here. It’s me. It’s over now, Nico.“

A tear ran down his face, and then another, and his voice broke. “Please. Please, Nico. Come back to me. Come back to us. I’m okay. I forgive you. I forgive you, Nico, so please, forgive us--”

Silence. So much painful, terrible silence.

And then a shudder, a hand slowly coming up, fingers closing around the tattered remnants of his poncho. A shaky breath.

“...crybaby…Livio…?”

Livio let out a howl, a wail, a sob. “Nico!!”

Nico’s other hand slowly, shakily came up to rip the blindfold off, letting it flutter away in the wind. Dark eyes blinked, unused to seeing the light, focusing on Livio’s face after a moment, as tears began to fill them. “...you’re…alive? I didn’t…”

Livio sobbed again. “No! No, you didn’t! I’m alive, Nico, I’m alive! I came to get you, I came to bring you home!”

“You…” Nico began, and then stiffened, eyes going wide as he shuddered and bucked, blood spilling out of his mouth.

“Nico!” Livio cried.

Hands clutched at his shoulders, those dark eyes heavy with pain but blazing with the sparks of a life that didn’t want to give up. “Y-You-- came after me--?”

“Of course I did,” Livio wept. “You’re my brother. You saved me-- you saved us both. Oh, Nico, I have so much I need to tell you…”

Nico’s tears spilled down his face. “...brother,” he got out. “My brother…for me…? After I…”

“Always,” Livio told him wetly, gathering him up in his arms. “Nai, c-could you--?”

“I’ll get your family to our ship,” Nai told him. “We’ll get them away from here before the Ark comes. Should I tell them--?”

“...no, don’t,” Livio said. “They shouldn’t…know more than they do. Not about what happened to us, about Nico. but…thanks, Nai.”

“Don’t need to thank me. You…” His eyes found Nico’s bloody form, closing briefly as Livio was sure he was seeing his own brother. “I’ll be back.”

Livio nodded, and Nai took off at a sprint…leaving him alone with the dying brother he fought to save. God, he thought. Please don’t take him away from me. Not before I can bring him home.

Nai had returned after seeing the kids to the ship, and they had tried. 

He knew some first aid tricks after all this time, and-- they’d tried to give him blood; he’d lost so much, and the vials had pushed his body so far. Nai had even offered his own, in the hopes that his inhuman nature could give him what he needed to survive.

Their words weren’t necessary, to understand. Livio knew why he was going this far.

To save a brother thought lost…if this worked, then-- then Nai could believe in his own.

They’d found a couch nearby in some ruined buildings to lie Nico down on afterwards, his head in Livio’s lap as he clung to him, praying, trembling. He’d found a pack of cigarettes lying around and was smoking one, tears dripping down his face. Razlo, too, was praying. United in this.

He was so still, and Livio deluded himself into thinking he wasn’t cold. Three vials-- and all the damage he’d taken both from stray gunfire and Nai’s knives and that fucking missile-- any normal human would be dead long ago, and even with the vials, three at once was enough that it could’ve would’ve maybe torn his body apart from the inside.

“Nico,” he begged. “Please, please-- you can’t die…”

It would be for nothing, it would all have been for nothing if he did. So please-- please--

A spot of color caught his attention, and he looked up. More color-- scraps of paper? What--

Oh.

He remembered one of the kids telling him, a little vicious, a little angry. The bag of confetti for when Nico got home. The one they hadn’t let him help with, because he hadn’t deserved it. Auntie had scolded them for leaving him out, but he’d told her it was okay. He’d known, when he left the next year, there would be no bag for him. He would never again be welcome there. All he’d ever wanted was for Nico to see those colors, though.

And yet-- and yet they didn’t know about Nico. Only his presence, and they’d--

Welcome home, Livio.

He let out a howl, rattling him to the very soul, loud enough that he was sure somehow Razlo had joined in. 

How could this be? How could they welcome him home-- and when the one they really wanted was dying in his arms? Was quite possibly already dead? 

He was so still. So silent.

Was he-- was he breathing--?

“...noisy…” Came a faint rasp. “Liv…cry quieter, would you…?”

“--Nico!”

He let out a cry, looking down at the form in his arms. His eyes were open, if still unfocused and hazy, but-- open. He was--

Those eyes found the colors drifting down around them, and a faint, weary smile settled on his face. “...we’re home,” he whispered. “I told you…they’d warm up to ya again one day. Didn’t I…?”

Livio just dragged him into a hug with another wail, and he heard Nico yelp, flailing a little. “O-Oi, Livio--”

He was alive-- he was alive! 

Through his tears, he found Nai’s gaze where he stood a short distance away, giving them privacy. Nai’s eyes were wide, and he saw a tear roll down his face, as well, before he managed a smile.

Hope…that’s what this was, he thought, as he faintly heard Nico’s muffled protests from within his embrace. Hope.

If he could save Nico-- maybe Nai, too, could bring his brother home. Maybe it didn’t have to end in death.

He prayed that’d be the case.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 19
Zero Hour

A rumbling noise caught all their attention, then, and three pairs of eyes shot up to the sky.

The Ark--

Nai was in motion before he decided to move, knives bursting from him as he leapt forward, knives and wings and feathers whipping around him, a sound as they sped through the sky like the crack of thunder, a lightning bolt moving from earth to the heavens as it tore into the Ark as it fired downwards.

He didn’t know if or why Vash had done it, but he didn’t care. He’d protect-- he’d protect them, he’d protect everything he could, even if it burnt him out.

Even if…

He came to a little while later, Livio and his brother hovering over him with wide eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Livio’s brother managed after a moment. “What’d you do?”

“...did it work?” He croaked.

“Y-yeah, it did, you-- you tore up the Ark, and then there was a-- a shield, it looked like, some kind of barrier that absorbed the energy,” Livio said. “But Nai-- Nai, your hair--”

Oh. Had it gone darker, again? He pushed himself up, shaking himself off. “It’s fine,” he hold them. “Don’t…worry about me. Livio, your brother is…?”

“Nico’s okay,” Livio smiled, nodding at the man, who had removed that heavy collar around his neck and had apparently stolen a cigarette from his brother. “Nico, this’s Nai. Vash’s brother. He’s my friend.”

His brother-- Nico? That didn’t feel appropriate to use-- grinned a little, though he looked visibly exhausted and shaky and ill, still. “Your friend, huh? Glad you made one, Livio.” He turned to Nai, offering a hand. “Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Nice t’meet you, Nai. Thanks for helpin’ fix me up.“

He shook Wolfwood’s hand. “You too. I’m…glad you made it.”

Livio helped him up. “So where to next?” He asked.

Nai looked west, and then pointed. “That’s where the Ark’s headed. We’ll follow it as far as we can.”

Wolfwood stood from his crouch as well, tossing his cigarette. “Alright, then. Let’s get movin’, yeah?“

“Nico, you--”

“I ain’t just sitting here and twiddling my thumbs while you two run off an’ fight without me,” Wolfwood argued. “I feel more or less fine, okay? By the time we get where we’re goin’ I’ll be fit to go. You save my life, both of you. I owe you this.”

Livio looked like he was going to continue to protest, but Nai huffed a breath of amusement. “Pick your battles, Livio,” he said. “As long as you think you’re good to go, then that’s fine with me. Just don’t slow us down, Nicholas D. Wolfwood.”

Wolfwood grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They were at least two days of driving in their borrowed van out from the orphanage when Brad found them. Thankfully, too, because Nai had been about ready to kill both Livio and his brother if they didn’t stop arguing over Livio refusing to trade places at the wheel.

Once they were onboard, Brad filled them in one what was going on. A forced evacuation of December, with the military using the city as the site for its last stand-- complete with the last working ion cannon from the original colony ships.

Nai had protested immediately-- he knew where the energy that cannon would come from, and he’d almost fought his way right back past Brad and a worried Livio in his panic to get there and stop them. His sisters, they couldn’t use his sisters like that! 

It turned out he hadn’t needed to worry.

His sisters had refused to hurt Vash. Had joined him, instead-- he didn’t know their reasons, but…he could at least know that they’d never hurt their own kind. Not like that.

(Though…with how powerful Vash was, how easily he assimilated them, like a black hole as he’d felt months ago when he’d almost been devoured…had they? Or had he simply stole them away before they could choose?)

After that-- after that, their attention turned to Octovern, where what seemed as if the entire population of this desert wasteland had gathered as refugees. The last place safe, where the world gathered. All of humanity in once place…and it was an inevitability that Vash would go there. To send them all to Paradise at once.

It took them a little while to get there, but they did. Brad-- and Luida, who’d gone ahead of them-- had felt it necessary to meet with the leaders of the government, to try and get them to keep from a direct assault-- if Vash could resonate with the plants so easily like in December, it simply wouldn’t work, and only make it worse for the side of humanity. Not to mention, who knew if it might upset Vash, and he’d retaliate twice as hard? Nai couldn’t guess what his brother was thinking anymore after hearing what he’d missed. Had he breached the point of no return…?

No. If Livio could save his brother when it seemed like all was lost, then he could save Vash, too. Then he could end this without violence.

Of course, as soon as their own ship flew over the place, a riot had broken out. Not that he was surprised-- humans, cluster together like this, steeping in panic and fear? Violence would always follow. That’s what they would always do, always exist like.

But that’s why, he thought, dropping into the fray to end it himself, interrupting long enough for the guards to finish the job…that’s why he’d made his promise. To give them the chance to do better. To believe in them anyway, no matter how imperfect they were.

Movement caught his attention behind him and he turned, and--

That was--

“...Meryl?” He ventured cautiously, staring at the two women who had dashed up to him, their eyes wide. “Milly?”

Meryl burst into tears, and Milly wasn’t too far behind. “Nai!” She cried. “Nai!”

One of the many knives buried in his heart melted away, and he smiled. “It’s been a while. I’m sorry if I made you two worry.”

Dear brethren. We are the solar system space fleet ‘Pieces of Earth’. This message is being broadcast on all international frequencies. Our fleet is currently 160,000 space miles from your position. We are approaching from vector Alpha Vega. We come in peace. Please respond. 

Dear brethren…

Nai wasted no time in getting the girls on the ship they’d flown in on with Brad, and they ended up in the hangar quickly enough, awed and amazed at the broadcast. They were really here. Nai couldn’t be as impressed as the girls, though-- he still worried about their plants, and the plants here, despite knowing at least they’d be able to prevent their overwork, worried about how they would react to himself and Vash, worried that Vash now had even more targets-- but even so…even so, he was still relieved.

“Nai!”

He turned to Luida along with the others, lifting a hand. “Luida,” he said. “Did I make you worry? I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, but squinted at him. “Your hair,” she noted. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he told her. “Please. What’s the situation? With the fleet almost here, depending on what happens, we might have some impressive backup. If we time things right…”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “We don’t know what kind of firepower the fleet has, or what else they could bring with it. I’m sure even Vash will feel the pressure. I’ve been trying to tell them that…”

A guard rushed in to call for Luida, and she sighed. “Keep an eye on things, Nai,” she told him. “I’ll handle this. I want you all to be ready to mount our attack. Brad, you help him out.”

“Got it,” Brad nodded. “We’ll check the cargo and round things up here. You go do what you do best, Luida.”

Milly beside them perked up, as Livio and Wolfwood exited the ship. “Oh! Mr. Undertaker! Hello, it’s been a while!” she waved brightly. “Who’s that with you?”

“Hi, Milly, hi Meryl!” Livio waved back, bounding over. “This’s my brother, Nico-- uh, Nicholas.” He gestured at Wolfwood, who looked deeply bemused. “Nico, this’s Milly an’ Meryl, they’re with Bernardelli Insurance, they got assigned t’Nai and we met that way. Don’t underestimate ‘em.”

“Nice t’meet you, ladies,” Wolfwood said with a slight smile. “Nicholas D. Wolfwood, at your service. Thanks for gettin’ on with my crybaby little brother, yeah?”

“Hey!”

They all laughed, even Nai. This felt…right, he thought. It felt right.

“Weeeeell, technically not anymore!” Milly chirped. “Bernardelli closed down with what all’s going on, and all that. Oh, which reminds me, Mr. Nai, ma'am had some of your things you left behind in Jeonora! We kinda stole it from the evidence files, hehe.”

“Jeez,” he heard Wolfwood mutter to Livio. “The big girl’s a ball of sunshine. Don’t see that often.”

Livio chuckled a little. “You really don’t. It’s refreshin’, isn’t it?”

Nai chuckled too, and turned to Meryl, who’d fished a packet out of her jumpsuit’s pockets. “Here,” she said, offering it with a shy little smile. “I thought you’d want it all back.”

There wasn’t much in it, really. Just some loose double dollars, a crappy old good luck charm Jessica had foisted on him when she was really little, some other odds and ends like a pen and a box of adhesive bandages and a probably expired bag of sweets…and the coin case.

He blinked, staring at it. “Oh, this,” he said, opening it, surprised to see the coins still there-- more of them, too.

“Mmhm,” Meryl nodded. “I found two of them at the Dragon’s Nest, and then at Home, that Ninelives guy…I think you have almost all of them, now. But be careful, alright, Nai? The way that guy talked about the man who gave them to you…the case doesn’t seem trapped, but--”

“It’ll be alright,” he promised her. “Legato isn’t the type to let things end without him being there personally to see it through.”

“Alright, alright,” Wolfwood cut in. “Enough with the dramatics. Liv an’ I kinda need to get cleaned up, and bad. I think my suit’s stuck to my skin at this point.”

Livio snorted. “You always gotta ruin the moment, Nico,” he said, but there was nothing but affection in his voice. “Not that you’re wrong. Th’ poncho Jessica gave me is all torn up, and my hair’s--” He tugged at what was left of it, mildly distraught; the fight had burnt half of it off, and even if by now it had started coming back in, the length of the rest of it left in wildly uneven and more than a little ridiculous. 

“You two go clean up, then,” Nai said. “I’m sure they can find you some clean clothes and a haircut somewhere. And if you get that fixed up, I won’t even tell Jessica you got it damaged.”

Livio yelped, flustered, and Wolfwood laughed. “I’ll show them where everything is!” Milly said brightly. “C’mon, ma’am, let’s go~”

The four of them hurried off, jostling and already joking around, and Nai sat on a crate to watch them leave, a small smile on his face. 

“Look at you,” Brad said quietly. “Never thought I’d see the day when you had such good friends, Nai. I’m proud of you.”

Nai jumped slightly, looking over at the older man, who’d come to lean against the wall next to him. “...proud of me?”

“Of course,” he said. “When we first picked you up all those years ago, you made it no secret how much you hated us humans, how much you didn’t trust us. It took us decades to get you to unclench around us, and we always knew that didn’t extend to anyone outside home. Even if you met kind humans out there, we always figured you still wouldn’t get close to them. If it took us decades, a meeting so much shorter wouldn’t make it through your spiky armor, after all.”

He smiled, reaching out to put a hand on Nai’s shoulder. “But look at you now. Those girls, Livio, and even his brother, looks like. The way you look at them, after only knowing them for a little while, just a fraction of how long you’ve been alive-- you’ve finally found your people. I think your mom would be happy to see it.”

“I--” Nai choked off, blinking the sting out of his eyes. Had he…he’d had that thought himself, back at Home, in the cold sleep room that day, but…to hear Brad put it into words out loud, that was something completely different. To think Rem would be proud of him, happy, that he had humans he’d grown to care for despite how much their kind still angered and frightened him…

“...maybe,” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Maybe.”

Brad’s hand lifted to cuff the side of his head fondly. “Don’t start with that,” he scolded fondly. “They love you, too, I can see that just as much. You’re so much better than you think you are, and they’ve seen through your spikes same as us. Trust them, alright? Trust them to help you carry your burdens, and they’ll do right by you, Nai. We all will, us humans. We might be a messy, imperfect race…but we’ll do you proud when it counts.”

“...fine,” Nai said, and turned away to pull his sunglasses out and hide his tear-filled eyes with them. “I’ll-- believe in you all. Don’t let me down.”

For some reason…he somehow thought they might not, in the end.

That night, he found himself on a balcony, staring out into the stars. They were out there, those ships-- the way they’d been over a century ago. He couldn’t see them yet, but they were there, and there was a strange sensation about it. 

“There you are!”

He jumped, turning around, and blinked in surprise. “You did cut your hair.”

Livio laughed, rubbing his now close-cropped hair. “Said I would! An’ see, got the poncho fixed too. Now Jessica won’t pout.”

“It’s not gonna stay that way, y’know, with how you fight,” Wolfwood teased. He’d gotten a new suit, too, the same black but without the cross patterns the other had, and instead of a black turtleneck beneath he’d swapped it for a half-unbuttoned white dress shirt. A pair of sunglasses we clipped to the breast pocket of his suit, too, and they both had cigarettes dangling from their mouths. They really did look like brothers, like that.

“Shut up, Nico,” Livio shot back with no malice, and they both sat down to join him. “Anyway, had somethin’ for you.”

Wolfwood passed something to him, and he put down three coin pieces in front of Nai. “Here, s’ours. Nico’s, mine, an’ Chapel’s.”

Nai blinked, and pulled the case out to add them in, counting them all up as he did. “Gale, Mine, Cyclops, Puppetmaster, Gauntlet, Hornfreak, Ninelives, Blade…Chapel, Punisher, and--”

“Doublefang,” Livio supplied. 

“And Doublefang. That makes eleven. We’re missing one. Who…”

“Beast, probably,” Wolfwood offered. “From what Liv told me they got the hell outta there before anyone took a proper shot at ‘em back in Dragon’s Nest.”

“Well, damn,” Nai grumbled. “How the hell are we going to get that, then?”

…the answer, it turned out, was Worms.

Not a little bit unsettling, he thought, to see a cluster of eerily glowing and twisted things nearly fling themselves at them from the darkness of the desert, writhing and twisting before going still as if dead, dimming and releasing that final coin from their possession.

“Ew,” Wolfwood mused, picking the mass up by a-- tail? Pincer? Nai wasn’t sure he wanted to guess at it. “Nasty.”

“Something must have happened to Zazie,” Livio noted, poking it experimentally. “The way it crashed and just…died. They must have wanted to get you that coin real bad beforehand.”

“Seems to be a good guess,” Nai muttered, and clicked the last coin into place. “Now--”

Nothing seemed to happen, and then Nai rolled his eyes, clicking it shut. “That was stupid,” he said irritably, but-- they all jumped as the case made a noise, a piece of it popping off and falling to the ground to reveal.

“A switch?” Wolfwood eyed it warily. He may have been only half-aware, those months among the Guns following Chapel, but he’d explained he’d still caught onto some of what was going on when they’d filled him in on everything on their drive through the desert. “The fuck’s that for, blue bitch…?”

He, Livio, and Nai all exchanged glances-- and then the two men spluttered as Nai pressed it without further hesitation. “O-Oi! Spikey!” Wolfwood yelped-- and honestly, why did he think he could get away with calling him that? Just because he’d justified it by claiming his knives made him spikey…either way, whatever. He supposed he’d let it go.

His attention was more focused on the voice that came from the case, an unsettling, eerie voice they all knew too well, laughing in amused delight.

“Knives the Reaper! You’ve done it. You have never let me down yet, o Judas. You’ve collected your pieces of silver, and now you come to fight our angel once again. You will need all the help you can get, I assure you. Keep the box for the occasion-- it will come in handy, I assure you.”

The message-- no, the speaker clicked off, and the trio all glared at it suspiciously for a few moments longer.

“Jesus, what a freak,” Wolfwood said finally. “How did you two put up with him?”

“Badly,” Livio said, bemused. “He’s something, that’s for sure.”

Nai snorted. “But he’s predictable. I don’t mind that.” The other two gave him matching looks, eyebrows raised. “This fight’s going to take everything we have,” he explained. “I’d rather him come for me head on than have him causing a problem for the others. He’s too dangerous.”

He sighed. “And that just leaves her.”

“Her?”

He grimaced. “That woman with the briefcase.”

Livio and Wolfwood exchanged grimaces. “Elendira,” Livio said. “Right.”

“I’m going to trust you two to handle her,” Nai told them. “Think you can manage?”

The brothers looked startled, exchanging glances, and then turned matching wolfish grins on him. “Damn right,” Wolfwood said. “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, Spikey. Crimsonnail’s a tough ass opponent, but you got the Eye’s two-- nah, three best on your side now.”

“You can count on us, Nai,” Livio promised, reaching to take his hand without thinking, giving it a squeeze. “No matter what, the two of us will protect everything. This time…now, we’ll be able to bare our fangs with no regrets, for the sake of others. For everything we love.”

Nai stiffened, if just for a moment, at the large, somehow warm hand around his.

“...for everything we love,” Nai repeated quietly, giving that hand a brief squeeze in return.

Love…

Maybe this is what it really meant. Not Vash’s unconditional adoration, that delusional, maddened agape that was driving him to wipe out humanity in his desperate reaching towards Eden, but…this. Just this. Ugly, and messy, and flawed. Imperfect and difficult, some days impossible to find but others appearing in the smallest things, where you didn’t expect it.

Smiling faces welcoming him home, ruffling his hair and swinging on his arm. A little house in the desert that sheltered him in the aftermath of a terrible storm. Those two, following him even into and out of hell, determined and faithful. And this, right here, a bloodstained hand around his, gentle and terrible at once.

They love you, too. 

Did he…?

An answer felt so close…as if it would change everything.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 20
That Which Can Be Protected

The next day was their birthday.

Nai thought it ironic, he supposed, a little painfully. That it would all end on the very day they were born all those years ago. Nobody knew it but him-- he’d never really bothered to tell even those at Home his birthdate (though they’d still try and celebrate something whenever he was there for a while, just because), but…he knew. And he was sure Vash did, too.

After parting from Livio and Wolfwood, he’d gone into Octovern’s main plant room, slipped in after dark, and sat among his sisters. Trying to listen. Trying to speak with them, feel how they felt. He’d never been as good at it as Vash, struggled to resonate with the feelings they had he was terrified to accept, but after everything…he hoped it’d be just a little easier, now.

It was afternoon of that day when some of the officials scurried in to find him, along with Luida, Brad,  and the girls. He ignored the officials’ questions-- didn’t really care enough to answer-- but when Luida spoke, he stood.

“Your sisters…what have they said about all this?”

He looked up at them where they were all curled, deceptively peaceful. “They’re scared,” he admitted. “They’re confused. They can feel that tonight-- it’s going to change everything, one way or another. What Vash is doing, believing that he’s helping humanity, believing they want the same thing he does…they’re unsure of it. There are so many different opinions. Have they chosen the right side? What does the appearance of the new fleet mean? I can’t-- I can’t make out half of it, it’s so much noise. But…they know it’s out of their hands, now.”

He folded his arms close to his chest. “This is…the clearest I’ve ever heard their feelings,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure what that means, either. For me, or for my sisters. But even so-- I do think we have a chance.”

“What do you want us to do, Nai?” Brad asked. “What’s the plan?”

“...try not to attack him or the Ark, for now,” he said. “I think-- I’m not sure. But I have a feeling that’ll be for the best, even though I know it won’t be easy for you. I’ll handle Vash myself.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Luida asked, concerned.

“Well, it’s my only idea,” he said. “But yes. There’s two types of power plants hold-- mine and my sisters is to generate. Vash takes away, absorbs. If we meet, that’ll cancel out. I’ve never tried it before, but I’m hoping it’ll work.” He wouldn’t say that Vash was the far stronger one, the more dangerous one. He really didn’t know how he’d handle it. But he’d do his damnedest.

“Idiot,” Brad said, openly worried as well in his gruff way. “Have you seen the damn thing lately? It looks--”

Nai reached out to take Brad’s hand in his. “I’ll be fine,” he promised, though he didn’t believe it himself entirely. “I know what I’m doing. I’m sure I’ll be able to close his gate.”

A sniffle caught his attention, and his gaze followed it to Meryl, whose eyes were filled with tears. He froze for a moment, stunned by it, then turned to her, crouching to give her a tired, but fond smile. “Hey. Don’t do that. Don’t tell me you think I’m going to lose?”

Meryl’s breath caught on a sob, and she threw herself at him in a hug, clinging tightly. He stilled, eyes wide-- but then slowly, slowly brought his arms up to return it. “Y-You made her cry again, Mr. Nai!” Milly wailed, even though she was crying too. “You’re such a meanie!”

“I am a mean person,” he said, smiling, a new warmth blooming in his chest. “But Meryl…it’ll be alright.”

He squeezed her tightly before standing, offering her his fist without a word. She blinked tears away, and then smiled, lifting her own to tap it against his.

Nothing more needed said, after that.

Somewhere else, a fight breaks out. 

Two wolves bearing fangs to protect against a beautiful, crimson-red calamity.

She threatens-- a key in her possession, a nuclear bomb. If Vash does not escort humanity to Paradise, she will.

The wolves lie beaten, broken, impaled. But rise again-- even the black wolf, whose gifted blood has given him strength unexpected.

Children approach, concerned and frightened. Their caretaker, too.

She’s a familiar face to the wolves, especially the white one-- the first person he ever saved, the first person he hurt all those years ago.

They give them gifts. The black wolf, the caretaker’s coat, long and black, to hide his wounds. The white wolf, the hat from one of the children, wide-brimmed and dark.

They exchanged a look, at that, the black wolf gently teasing the white one for crying, and took off, not looking back, glad to be fighting for familiar faces. To be able to protect those faces.

Together, they would protect everything they loved. And together, they would return to the place they loved most, the place they belonged. They were wolves with bloody fangs now, perhaps-- but they could and would use those for the sake of others. Because they were still human, too.

High up above Octovern, watching the Ark-- the winged, monstrous mass that it had become, truly a Biblical angel bearing down upon them to escort them to Paradise, beautiful and terrible beyond comprehension-- approach, Nai sighed softly.

His life…really had been a wild one, hadn’t it?

Ever since the Big Fall-- ever since he split off from Vash and began to make his own way-- it had been like something out of the movies he had watched as a child. Running as an outlaw, metaphorical and literal guns blazing. Wanted posters, saloons. Blowing into towns and helping the humans he’d hated, even though he hated them, because he’d promised he would. Leaving just as suddenly as he’d arrived, the way those nameless drifters in the films always did. 

So many faces he’d seen. Names he’d forgotten. Lives that had touched his.

Humans…humans that had taught him that violence and cruelty wasn’t all they had to offer. Had given him kindness. Had cared, had found their way through his thick, bladed armor and offered so much all this time, asking for nothing in return.

Luida, Brad, Jessica, everyone at Home…Lina and Sheryl…Meryl, Milly...Livio…

Maybe…that little boy, untouched yet by horror and disillusionment, had been right after all.

Maybe he had finally begun to believe. Finally found what he’d been hoping for.

…but no matter if he had…that long, long journey was over.

He opened his eyes, facing down the great Leviathan his brother had become, winged and glorious.

If it was over…no matter who made it out today-- today, the day they were born--

He would treasure the time he’d had. The gifts he had been given. The warmth he’d been shown, and the warmth that curled in his own chest now.

It had all meant something, in the end.

Hadn’t it, Rem?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 21
Plus Minus Zero

One moment, the Ark was there, in the distance.

The next--

Gone.

Nai’s eyes went wide, where he’d already been halfway out into the desert towards it. Where had it-- how the hell had Vash--

His heart skipped a beat, and instinctively, he wheeled around.

There.

Above Octovern. It had-- shit, it had teleported?!

He took off back towards the city, frantic-- he was right there, what would--

He stopped.

Nearly fell.

Noise ripped through him-- his sisters. He heard his sisters. Vash was resonating with them, that giant amalgam he’d become, calling to the ones still in Octovern. It was so loud, even he could--

Hello, sisters! Let’s take them to Paradise together!

He choked on a gasp, fighting the feathers that threatened to bloom across his skin. So loud-- even from here, Vash’s power was--

A black hole. An endless consumption. His gate dragging them all into it, ceaseless, inevitable, irresistible.

He had to-- 

They’re pointing guns at us. They’re shooting at us. Should we help them? What should we do? They’re afraid. Should we reach out? What is it we want to do? Is this really what we want? Should we bring them to Paradise? But if we do…won’t we be alone? 

He clutched his head, buckling, a cry ripping from his lips as his sisters’ thoughts echoed through him. They’d never been this clear before, this loud-- but it was a cacophony, so many voices, all of the plants Vash had collected, more and more he yet hadn’t but were resonating-- something unfamiliar, far away and up above him, filled with shock and confusion and panic.

He could-- he could see, at the same time, through that faraway presence--

The fleet? It was the fleet, Vash was attacking the fleet. He could see them, see the attack coming, feel-- plants, no, more than plants--

…what…are you?

--! Another Independent?! How-- who are you?

I-- what do you mean…another-- 

What’s going on? How can the fused entity reach us from here? Do you know?!

Vash…he…can absorb…I-I can’t…

--an absorption type? Damn! He’s got control of one of our ships! 

Please…don’t let him…more blood on his hands…

He was sinking. He was sinking-- he couldn’t…was this it? From all the way here, would Vash consume him? Would he be unable to…his consciousness was already fading into the mass, and distant he could feel bladed feathers fold around him like a cocoon, wings outstretched.

Maybe he should just…

No! No.

He snarled, screaming in fury and defiance, calling a blade to drive it through his hand-- the pain was enough to ground him, pull his mind free, and-- that’s it.

Connected as he still was, body pulled in even if he’d managed to untangle his mind…if he could just follow that connection--

“Nai!”

He looked up.

It had worked-- there he was, on Octovern’s cliffs again, having used Vash’s own power to close the distance. There he was, wrapped in wings and their sister’s power, eyes ringed with dark, dark shadows and face pale. Haunted, hunted, his eyes wide and smile all the more forced and fixed. A man at the edge of his tether in more ways than one.

“What’d you just do, Nai, how’d you do that?”

How’d he…easily, he thought, shakily forcing himself to stand, wings still uncontrollable, feathers and blades writhing around him as blood spilled from his impaled hand. With that connection Vash had opened, dragging him in…he’d been able to pull him just enough that the ship he’d stolen misfired.

He could…he could do this. He had to do this.

“You…you’re bleeding,” Vash said, blinking owlishly. “Nai…”

His brother exhaled slowly, and Nai knew in that moment-- no, he felt it ring through his being.

Vash was about to devour him.

“It’s okay, Nai. You won’t have to fight anymore,” Vash said quietly. “You can sleep inside of me peacefully with our sisters. Okay? You won’t get hurt again…and you can wait for Paradise there with everyone else.”

I suppose…not all humans are hateful. Not all of them are bad.

Most of the time…we can’t understand them at all, like I’d hoped. But sometimes, not being able to understand them…means they turn out better than we think they will.

The more we don’t understand, the more they surprise us. And the more they surprise us, the more I begin to soften, just a little.

It was about eighty years after the Big Fall. I’d stayed with him all this time. I didn’t know how to live without him, exist without him. I was afraid. But I couldn’t leave him alone. Not with that false smile, those bright eyes, that dream of Paradise.

We’d gotten separated in a sandstorm. Someone had found me, and taken me to their little town in the middle of nowhere, full of drifters and other rescuees. Apparently the storms were pretty bad in this part of the desert, so the town had sprung up to help those who’d gotten lost or hurt during them.

They’d been…kind. Given me water and something to eat-- even though I didn’t need it-- and let me rest, bandaged the injuries I’d gotten. It was the first time I’d experienced humans by myself, away from Vash’s fake smile and the charm and charisma he’d always had even before his madness. I thought they’d hate me, when all I could do is bite back uselessly and push them away, kicking and hissing like a feral cat who didn’t want to be touched or accept aid. 

But they didn’t. They were used to that sort of behavior, I suppose. They saw me as just a child, a young man and not someone older than half of them. 

I softened. Let hands reach out, for the first time. Tentatively, hesitantly, unsure. Like gentle words and soft blankets, treats left at the door and endless patience, they had begun to tame this feral cat.

And then Vash arrived.

I’d woken up to silence. No radio, no laughter, not a sound.

I ran out of the room to see-- corpses. A sea of them. Everyone in the town, gone. And Vash there, smiling. Innocent. Unstained by blood, yet having killed everyone.

“Don’t look like that, Nai!” He’d said, pouting. “I just thanked them, that’s all. They were so nice to you! They took care of you for me. They definitely deserved to go to Paradise. Don’t be sad, it’s okay! They’re all safe and happy now, and they won’t have to worry about surviving in this awful place anymore. They’re somewhere better.”

“Vash! Vash, you didn’t-- they’re dead! They’re all dead!” I hadn’t known, then, why it hurt so much. I was just angry. “They aren’t anywhere! You killed them!”

“No I didn’t,” Vash had huffed. “I just sent them to Paradise. They’ll be so much happier there, without any pain or fear or anything bad. It’s really a shame I gotta do it like this, though, a little bit at a time. If it weren’t for Rem, everyone would be there already. Now people have to suffer longer. I still don’t get why she didn’t want better for everyone.”

I lashed out, then, at the mention of Rem. One of my knives drove itself into Vash’s shoulder, and he cried out in pain.

He panicked, flailing-- and I realized a little too late I’d stabbed his shooting arm.

The gun went off, and my own arm exploded in pain.

I remember him screaming, crying, scrabbling at the sand where I fell, begging forgiveness and wailing apologies until they trailed off into silence. I don’t know what went through his mind when he left me there. What had his broken mind done to him to justify it? Maybe I’ll never know.

I woke up and stumbled into the desert…and that’s when they found me and took me Home. My arm was a lost cause, needing to be removed, hanging by half a thread and infected, but…

I never blamed him for it. Not really.

Then, and now…he’s never hurt me on purpose. I don’t think he hurts anyone on purpose.

I just hope I can make him stop.

In the chaos, in the multitude, in the vastness of Vash’s all-consuming mass-- he heard it.

A faint noise. A faint call. Something…human.

They were-- the humans were trying to--

The shock of it, the unfathomable realization that humanity, this humanity, flawed and imperfect that he’d hated for so long…that they were reaching out to them at last, trying to communicate--

He ripped his mind free from Vash’s grip again, blood spilling from deep cuts he’d slashed into his calves to free himself from those grasping feathers.

Still they pulled and dragged at him, wings and hands and screaming sisters, his brother wailing for Nai to stop and let him help-- another knife through the back of his prosthetic’s palm to pin him to the ground and keep him in place. 

“Why, Nai?!” Vash wailed. “Why?! You hate them! You hate them! Why do you keep hurting yourself for them?! I don’t understand! It would be so much easier if you just let me help! You wouldn’t have to hurt or hate anymore, I don’t understand you anymore! I don’t understand anything!”

“That’s-- that’s the point, Vash!” Nai screamed back at him. “You don’t understand! No one does! I was wrong, that day, we’ll never be able to understand each other-- but that’s fine! No one can ever understand each other, but the point of everything is to try! To try and reach out, no matter your feelings! To try and reach out, no matter if it hurts! But you aren’t trying!”

He staggered to his feet. “You haven't once tried! Tried to face the hurt, face the pain! You’ve buried it all in love hoping that makes it better, that makes things safer, but it doesn’t! All you’re doing is running away, hiding in your false Heaven-- and I’m going to drag you back down to earth with the rest of us!”

They all would. He felt them calling, in the far distance. The humans, trying their best to reach out to his sisters. Their struggling, clumsy, attempts. 

And the more they tried, the harder he would fight. 

Though then--

Then, as if to prove him wrong once more, cannonfire.

His sisters, the mass, cried out and he staggered, trying frantically to find the source.

Vash wailed, wordless and frantic. “Stop, please!” He begged. “Stop fighting it, you’re making it harder on yourselves. You’re all just making it harder! You’re just making more suffering! Please, just let me do this for you!”

Another volley, but these he saw, cutting them down before they could make contact.

But then-- before a third-- he saw below him a ship. A little ship, the ones from Home. a smokescreen, blackening the ground. He couldn’t make anything out through that smoke, but--

Somehow, he knew.

Those he loved…they were trying, too.

Warmth spread through him, fighting off the coldness of Vash’s void, the ringing screams and frantic cries of his sisters.

He tasted copper, spat blood out of his mouth as he wobbled to stay upright.

“Nai, stop!” Vash cried out. “Look at you! Your hair’s all black now, you’re bleeding! You’re killing yourself, please! You’ll die!”

“Not…not before…I make you see the truth,” Nai forced out. 

Vash froze, for a moment, the inner chaos of his mind cracking through his mask, and then he screamed. 

“Fine! Fine! I’ll-- I’ll fight you, Nai! I’ll fight you until you stop!”

What he pulled out wasn’t-- it had been his gun, once, but no longer, now it was another extension of himself, wings and feathers and angelic flesh.

Bullets and blades clashed, blood splattering across the ground they danced on. Inch by inch, bullet by bullet, he was pushed back, each one a miniature black hole in of itself, touched by Vash’s power. Bit by bit, he felt pulled away from himself again. Distant, so distant-- 

He crashed to the ground. It was so far away. His wings, feathers, consuming him again. It was too much. He couldn’t--

I’ve got you, brother. 

A voice. Familiar but unfamiliar. A static shock, jolting him free.

It’s a pleasure, Vash. 

A strike from above, knocking Vash off balance.

The Independent he’d felt--!

He gasped, blood splattering from his mouth, head feeling torn in two, slipping and sliding on his own blood as he struggled to stand, and then--

Something massive, heavy, slammed down between them. A weapon? A torture device? Massive, bulky, covered in spikes and sin. And with it-- 

Legato.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 22
Kill

Why do you follow Vash? Don’t you understand what he’s actually doing? You have to know he’s not sending people to any kind of Paradise.

I do. Of course I do. There is only one place any of us filthy humans go-- but under our angel’s loving wings, may we go peacefully. I need nothing else. 

(...tell me, angel. If I kill him, Knives the Reaper…will you acknowledge me for what I am?)

“I wondered…when you would show up,” Nai managed, pulling himself upright. “Legato.”

The other man watched him, eyes flickering across the wounds on his body before baring his teeth in a vicious smile, a vicious snarl.

“Judas Iscariot,” he purred. “Welcome to your grave site. I am your noose.”

He launched himself at Legato, knives drawn-- and cried out as his body creaked and cracked, limbs bending at unnatural angles and blood spurting from the wounds he’d taken, the bullet holes and the bleeding stigmata on his hand and calves. 

“There is no point in fighting,” Legato taunted. “You cannot fight yourself free. Did you learn nothing the last months?”

No, Nai supposed, agony at the very least keeping Vash’s feathers from brushing his mind again, even as the fleet engaged with him above them. He hadn’t.

...tell me, angel. If I kill him, Knives the Reaper…will you acknowledge me for what I am?

I don’t understand, Legato. Why would you want to do that? I’m not sure what you mean.

…

It’s okay. You don’t have to prove anything to me, you know. I’ll love you no matter what, along with everyone else. You’ll have a place in Paradise too, after everything you suffered. Okay? So don’t talk like that again. 

My lord angel…I--

You’ve done so well all these years, Legato. You’ve been so helpful. I promise, you’ll be able to rest soon enough, when all this is done. You’ll get to be happy in Paradise with everyone else. Just hold on a little longer.

…

I just wanted him to see me for what I am. There is something suffocating, in being loved this way. My loyalty is unquestionable, everything that I am, the source of everything I am capable of, and yet something lurks beneath. Sinful and terrible. Blasphemous. I cannot name it, or put it to voice, yet…

Yet I thought-- were I to battle you, Reaper, were I to take your life, I would see my angel look at me, see me for the first time, and that dark and sinful thing would cease to be.

And yet as you lie there, struggling in vain, this night of our last supper…I find I taste regret.

Nai struggled, spitting blood, slowly forcing himself upright past the gravity and agony that twisted his body. “Don’t-- underestimate-- me--” 

Legato faltered, startled, and then his eyes narrowed. “Futile,” he said. “But I suppose it is to be expected. You are his brother, after all. An angel alike to him. It would be remiss of me to expect any less.”

“I am--” Nai choked out, drawing his blades, though he had to pause to choke on copper, spilling more blood on the ground as his limbs twisted further in Legato’s uncanny grip. “No angel. My wings are-- black, if I have them. I fell…a long time ago. I sin…just like you.“

Legato froze for a moment as if struck and then lashed out at him, grabbing his collar in a hand with blazing eyes, searching his face for something Nai didn’t grasp.

“You--!”

…those eyes.

I see now.

Those eyes, that look upon us humans with such hatred-- they see us so clearly. They see us for what we are, and do not love us. 

He claims to be no angel-- to be a fallen devil, as Lucifer. Yet still, he judges. He judges, without that suffocating love.

Will he judge me, too, as my worthless soul deserves…? Then I…!

Legato started laughing. Wild, feral laughter as he let go, stumbling backwards, a hand coming to press against his face.

“Oh, my angel! My angel, you may not forgive this sinner, but I-- I cannot hold back any longer! I will be judged!”

A hand launched out, snatching the coin case from within Nai’s coat. “I had wondered if you would gather them up, your pieces of silver. I had wondered if you could. If you would continue to sin, or learn our angel’s lesson. But you did not learn-- just as I had hoped.” His grin widened, a vicious slash across his face. “Don’t worry. You’ll understand soon enough. Allow me to grant you your reward.”

He pressed a button on the case. Nai felt something spark across his skin, electric in the air like a storm.

“This is a specialized magnetic forcefield device,” Legato told him. “It’s extremely effective against my ‘talent’. It will repel light, low-mass, electrified metallic string. They’re both designed to demonstrate my loyalty-- after all, my ’talent’ is much too powerful for single combat. Unless there’s a handicap…”

His eyes glittered, mad, wild, like a predator. “It’s simply no fun.”

“Just as you hoped,” Nai echoed, shifting and catching his breath now that he could breathe for a moment. “So you would rather the violence continue, unlike my brother.”

“Violence is all we know!” Legato laughed, voice twisted in a paroxysm of mad fervor, his arm whipping out to his side. “Come, Lucifer! Black-winged angel, weigh my soul! Send me to Hell, if you can!”

A metal pole slammed into his palm, and he brought that great, terrible weapon to bear, its weight slamming between them. 

He swung it like it weighed nothing, Nai realized as he rolled out of the way with a grunt, wounds screaming. No-- with those strings he said he had, his power, he was using it to make it lighter.

Violence is all we know-- very well. If violence was what Legato sought, violence was what he would receive.

And so they danced together, the two of them. Blades skimming against that great and terrible flail, against flesh, as he spun out of its way. Sometimes it would strike too close, spikes skidding against his flesh or blunt edges knocking him aside, but Nai would stand again and throw himself back into the fray. For the first time, he noticed Legato’s eyes blazing with life, a frenzy of exultation. The other man’s lips were twisted into a grin, almost delirious, as if he were experiencing some kind of religious rapture.

He didn’t understand it-- and yet, he felt compelled to respond in kind. Give everything he had to this fight, though his blood poured from him and his knives faltered and cracked as he burnt more and more of his fading power. 

Then. A slipped motion, a faltered step-- his leg buckled, and the long length of metal that Legato held, the grip of his massive flail buried itself in his side, blunt end tearing flesh and bone as he screamed out.

“Yes!” Legato crowed. “We will all die tonight, together, so in these final moments witness me, fallen angel, and judge! In my blaze of glory, accept me! Accept me!”

His vision darkened, greyed out in the face of it, and for a moment he thought-- was this it?

But no. He couldn’t let this be it. He hadn’t…he hadn’t yet stopped Vash. He hadn’t…he had so much left to do. There was too much left behind.

He wouldn’t die here.

Legato flung him away, off the pole, and he crashed into some rubble, and he only distantly registered the click of gunbarrels as the flail broke open to open fire on him. In the haze and the dust and the gunsmoke, he breathed in, and reached inside himself. He was scraping the bottom of the barrel, he knew it. He was truly dying. His well, his gate, was so very finite, and he could taste the edges of his Last Run in the copper in his mouth. And yet-- 

And yet, he couldn’t think of any other option. And yet, he had known from the start there was no other option.

He screamed again, a howl into the sky, and his knives burst from him, slicing their way through the bulk of the flail as the smoke began to clear.

He rocked upright, sparing barely a glance to his clothes, stained as black as his hair now, no more trace of blue. His knives, wingless, burst from his arm, his back, and he spit blood as his eyes came up to glare at Legato, determined and fierce.

A blaze of glory for them both, it would be.

“Beautiful,” Legato breathed out. “Truly a fallen angel. You burn yourself black, and yet even so, you blaze so brightly…even as you fall, you truly are the star of morning-- a comet that could burn everything upon this altar.”

I feel it. Crimsonnail has fallen.

Don’t worry. I will join you in Hell, soon enough.

Before I can blink, blades are slicing through my flesh. So fast and so clean I do not even bleed. Is this what he is capable of? There is enough power pouring from him to affect the surrounding spectrum of air, of light. 

He truly is a reaper. An angel of death, of vengeance. Beautiful and terrible. He could slice my head off my neck and I would not even realize until my body had fallen, and yet those blades dance so deftly, carefully, as to avoid fatality. Every breath I take I know is only due to his mercy and nothing more.

This-- this is what I sought. This presence. What I have waited for, while bathed in suffocating adoration. Waited for soft feathers to cut my flesh, for this worthless life to end.

Ah…this is why my angel spared me, isn’t it?

So that I could experience this moment. 

Oh, Angel, my savior…may your forgiveness find me. As I have finally reached that blasphemy and understood.

Nai barely saw anything past the blood in his eyes, the ringing in his ears. The smoke from explosions-- the fleet above, firing at Vash, Vash’s own struggles in the air above them. The cries of his sisters, the faint sound of humans crying back, struggling to sing in harmony.

Blood dripped from his nose, his mouth, his eyes. But still he fought.

The coin case had shattered long ago-- on purpose, he’d done it. He didn’t want this to end half-assedly, somehow. He wanted this to be…right. To face the full weight of this man’s madness, this man’s feelings, twisted as they were. To understand them. 

Every motion felt like fighting against solid steel, but Legato couldn’t hold all of him, and his blades still sung through the air. 

But every dance must end, and his knives buried themselves into his opponent, flinging him against a wall so hard it dented, pinning him there as he spat blood and shuddered, going limp.

But not dead.

Not dead. 

He would still keep his promise. Even now, even at the end of all things, he would keep it. 

Legato twitched. Once, twice. As if his body was realizing it had not fallen still, its heart still beat.

And he screamed.

It was an unholy thing, wordless and full of rage and despair and fury, ringing through Nai’s very being and echoing against his chest like church bells, like the trumpet of the apocalypse.

“KILL ME!” Legato roared. “KILL ME, ANGEL! TAKE MY LIFE! JUDGE ME, CUT MY THROAT! DO NOT SHOW ME MERCY!”

He didn’t move, meeting those golden eyes.

Legato shuddered at what he saw in them, bucking against where he was pinned. “Fine!” He howled, manic, wild. “I’ll do it for you! It will be your fault, this time, this time it will be your lack of violence that causes yet more! This time your promise kept will spill blood, instead!”

--he stilled. What--?

Legato laughed, head thrown back. “You think me helpless, pinned on this cross?! My threads reach everywhere! Servants, rulers, the rich and the poor, the faithful and the faithless, women, children, animals-- and even your allies! Why-- so I can do this!”

Nai froze. One moment, the air was still around them where he had Legato against the wall. And then there was motion. Bodies filled the space.

A terrible sight-- Livio, Wolfwood, the still dead-eyed corpse of Elendira the Crimsonnail. Pinned to each other by nails, one in front and the other behind. One of Livio’s arms was gone, as was one of his legs, and Wolfwood’s face was covered in blood, sunglasses cracked and dangling off his face, still alive somehow even with a chunk missing from his side. 

He found their eyes briefly. One pair of gold, the other dark. Life was still in them, frozen in silent shock and pain and mounting fear, as Legato’s power held them in place like a horrific piece of art, a terrible, gruesome display.

“You see?!” Legato howled. “My fangs are at their throats! One wrong move, and I crush them into ash and dust! They may be from the Eye of Michael, hard to kill, but ripping their heads from their shoulders should do it!”

“Stop--” Nai gasped out. “Legato, stop--”

He could hear bones creak, crack, bend, hear breaths come gasping and wheezing and guttering out. See eyes glaze over, blood and foam pool at their lips, drip from eyes and nose. 

“Go on!” Legato triumphed. “Keep your promise! That is not your nature, my angel of death, and you know it! Keep your promise, watch them die, watch the violence that comes from mercy! You know the truth, angel, Lucifer, glorious being, you know it in your very soul, do not deny it, do not deny me! You are no saint, you are my judge, my jury, my executioner!”

“Do not deny yourself!”

His knives retreated all at once, snapping back to him as he moved forward, all at once, surging like a wave, screaming a wordless sound of too many things to name.

A knife, just one, rippled from his hand.

For a moment-- just a moment-- he was a child again, lashing out, burying that little knife in Rem’s side as if killing her would be the first act of his revenge, as if bathing the world in blood would protect him from the violence of humanity, as if his anger and rage would never sate itself until their kind was wiped from existence.

He forced it away. He would not lose his mind now.

This time-- this time, his head was clear. This time--

This time, when his knife buried itself into Legato’s heart, it was no accident. No lost temper stealing his wits, no blind rage causing deaths he did not intend.

This time, for the first time since that day over a century ago, he chose violence willingly. 

This time not out of hatred or rage…but out of love. To protect.

Legato went limp and he caught him in his arms, cradling his body gently even as Livio and Wolfwood crashed to the ground nearby. He didn’t see them, or hear them. He kept instead his hand, bladed, pressed against Legato’s chest, his heart, as those empty gold eyes began to dim.

“...angel…of death…I…” Blood bubbled from his lips. “I…”

He understood.

“I will not absolve you,” he said softly. “I will not forgive you, and I will not love you. But I will not judge you, either. I see you, Legato Bluesummers. What you are, nothing else. So terribly human.”

A tear ran down Legato’s cheek, but no more words could be said. They weren’t needed.

“I’ll carry you with me,” he whispered. “Your blood on my hands. Goodbye.”

He would not tell him to rest in peace, or rest well. He knew the man did not want such things.

He sheathed his blade, but kept his hand where it was, even as he felt breath slow and stop, felt heartbeat still, and watched those eyes fade out. 

He didn’t notice tears running down his own face, mixing with blood and splattering that pale face beneath his with a blurry, pale pink.

He was gone.

A life-- the first life he’d chosen to take. The promise willingly broken.

For love, he thought distantly. For love.

To kill for love…

…what meaning did that have?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 23
Ticket to the Future

Nai didn’t register anything for a while after that.

Not the brothers rushing towards him, screaming. Not the ship that fell all but atop them, the two men dragging him away from Legato’s still corpse. Not them collapsing, as the girls in their borrowed shuttle spotted him from afar and swooped down to collect their bloodied forms.

Not Livio sobbing, shaking and trembling, Wolfwood’s arm around him as he stared in vacant shock down at the man who had killed to protect their lives, willingly chose to break the promise that had meant so much to him, meant everything, for them. 

Not Meryl weeping, holding his head in her lap-- understanding the weight of the blood he’d spilled, while the men around her had just discussed so distantly sacrificing thousands.

Faraway, he thought he might have let out a cry, a helpless wail, that thought coming to him again-- with this much blood on his hands, did he have any right to judge Vash, to stop him, to end this--?

Hands wrapped around his. 

“It’s alright,” Meryl wept, a long way away. “It’s alright. You don’t have to carry this on your own. We’re all fighting with you. Please-- please don’t forget that.”

Livio, voice broken and wet. “You aren’t-- you aren’t carryin’ it alone, remember?” He faltered out, hand resting against his arm. “I chose a long time ago t’make your sins my own. We all will, all of us. It’s not just your cross to bear anymore. Let us…let us show you we can be good, too, Nai. Let us humans-- let us humans stand with you.”

He heard them.

And-- and distantly, he heard something else.

His sisters, singing, louder and clearer, resonating through his body, through everything, through the connection he still had to Vash’s enormity, though he’d burned himself out enough it was weak and faltering.

Explosions, and explosions, as the fleet fired overhead, tearing through bodies and steel and the glass of plant containers. Vash, his screams and cries to be understood, to be accepted, echoing through everything.

Shedding from that massive form as it trembled and was struck, feathers. Like drifting snow, like falling stars, they fell.

He didn’t see or hear the panic, the shouting, everyone on the shuttle screaming down the comms line in protest, even as the ships far above planned their largest, deadliest strike, one that would kill Vash and every life upon this desert in its backlash. 

He shuddered, and he was somewhere else.

An endless space, an endless emptiness.

Before him was…

Legato? 

Legato. Raidei. Leonof. 

All the faces from Home, those hundred plus souls who died that day.

The faces he’d met along the way-- those in July, too. Those in that town from long ago, the first kindness he’d been shown since--

Rem.

She was there, smiling at him.

He did not see that warhead fire. He didn’t see Vash stop it, didn’t see the warships fall. 

He didn’t hear Meryl speak. Because we chose to fight alongside-- to believe in Knives the Reaper. And if that means we don’t achieve anything, don’t prove ourselves, we’re just holding him back. What good would that do?

No-- he heard it.

He heard it, and with a scattering of feathers-- of voices, of singing-- a single resonating note made up of hundreds of voices, echoing alongside Vash’s wailing-- he pushed himself upright.

If they were fighting this hard, to protect and to save their own kind-- to try and understand his, reach out at last…he couldn’t stop now.

Not long after, he was staggering onto the top of the shuttle, still bleeding, still dying, still black as pitch, but refusing to back down. A cord was in his hand, plug sparking faintly.

“...Nai, are you sure?” Meryl said behind him, fear in her voice. “You’re--”

“I’m sure,” he promised her. “You’ve done this much to reach out. Let me bridge the gap.”

He could hear Vash screaming. There was so much fear, so much pain, so much despair. His delusion was crumbling apart. He was alone, even among their sisters. Lashing out, everything shaking, blasts of light and burning energy crackling through the air in all directions. The shuttle shook, rattling, and he was sure humanity below and above were panicking, desperate, praying. This was…this was it, wasn’t it? Kingdom come.

“...I’m coming, little brother.”

 And he buried the plug into his neck.

It was everywhere, inside him and around him-- the pain, the fear, the screaming. Countless voices. Echoing, enough to drown him, erase him, snuff him out from existence.

But there was love, too, distant and hopeful.

And beneath it all, was Vash.

Sisters-- please. Help me give him his ticket, the one he’s been missing all this time.

The pain ceased, like they’d shoved him backwards, and he stared up at the feathers falling from the sky when his vision cleared.

He heard Meryl’s breath shake, frightened.

He could barely move, but he turned his head towards her. “....it’s okay,” he whispered, unable to force his voice louder. “To be scared. You…you’re trying anyway…that’s enough...”

“Nai…” Her voice wavered. How bad did he look?

“...all those feathers…our sisters’ gifts to you. Their…memories. Bad ones…and good ones. They decided…to share them with you. With...humans.” 

“What’s going to happen now?” She asked him quietly. “What…what do they think about us?”

“I…was never able to figure that out,” he told her. “I don’t…I don’t know. But…this will be…their answer. To you…and to me. You called out to them…and they answered. Good or bad, you…you tried…and they acknowledged it.” He managed a smile, tears streaking his face. “And now…you can try…and live together. With…my sisters.”

We can work through a few little differences. If we just talk to each other, we can come to understand one another. Because there’s no difference between human hearts and ours.

“…if we just talk to each other,” he whispered, reaching for her hand. “We can come to understand each other. Because…there’s no difference, after all, between…human hearts and ours. Right…Meryl?” 

She took it and squeezed. “Right,” she told him, smiling and wet. “As long as we keep trying, no matter what…even if it’s hard, maybe we’ll understand each other one day. As long as it takes, we’ll do our best, Nai. Us humans…we might make mistakes, but…we’ll keep trying to be better. We will.”

The man in blue…?

Yes…I can feel him. Can’t you? Knives the Reaper.

How strange…what do you think he’d say right now?

Haha…he’s never liked us, has he? But he sees us for what we are. Imperfect, flawed, and messy. Human. 

And he still fights for us. For our right to keep trying to do better. He believes in us. In the humanity he spurns, he still…has faith. 

If he can try, then so can we. Isn’t that right?

I see…so we all know him, then. That young man, with those distant blue eyes.

His real name is…

Distantly, he heard his sisters. Distantly saw through their eyes, as humans rushed to their aid as they shed from Vash like their falling feathers. As they reached out to help, to protect, gentle and kind. Promising to try. To live together, to help one another. To give back what’s been given to them all these years.

He staggered up again, and Meryl gasped. The others gasped, too, as he made his way back into the shuttle. He really must look a sight. 

But nonetheless, they flew him to where Vash waited, bereft of their sisters.

“Nai…?”

He swallowed, looking over his shoulder. Meryl, Milly. Livio, Wolfwood, they all watched him. Fear in their eyes, bright and burning.

“...I’ll come back,” he promised. “Just…wait for me.”

And he jumped.

There he was, on his hands and knees, body struggling to repair itself slowly but surely, great wafts of power coming off him.

Vash looked up, eyes wild, tears streaking down his face, and let out a ragged cry.

“Nai…” He wept. “Nai, you’re here…oh, Nai, look at you…”

He staggered over, even as he watched Vash’s hair darken, the last of his power given up to heal himself.

“It’s okay, Vash,” he whispered. “I’m here now.”

“I don’t understand,” Vash sobbed. “I don’t understand. Why did you go this far? Why? You’re dying, Nai, you’re dying! For people you hate! I don’t understand…!”

He dropped to his knees in front of Vash. “...you’ve never understood,” he told him, reaching shakily for his hands, streaking them with blood. “But that’s just like you. You’re still such a child, Vash…you never did grow up. I refuse to back down. My past and future…won’t let me. This path I chose, bloody and painful-- I’ll never stray, even should it kill me.”

“Why?!” Vash wailed. “What we saw that day, Nai-- what we saw that day-- I couldn’t-- I couldn’t--”

His voice broke, and greenish-blue eyes looked up at him. For the first time in over a hundred years Nai saw his brother in them. The mask shattered, the dream ended.

“I hurt you,” Vash choked out. “I hurt you so much. I killed so many people. I killed them, Nai. I killed all of them. I killed Rem. I just didn’t want to hurt anymore, I-I didn’t want anyone to hurt, I wanted…I wanted us all to be happy, but I-- but I--”

“I know,” Nai said softly. “You did. We can never go back to how it was, Vash. we can’t pretend none of this ever happened. We’ve both got blood soaking our hands. We’ve both made so many mistakes, committed so much violence. We’re not angels. We’ve never been angels.”

“Nai…” 

Sobs ripped from Vash, wailing and broken, spirit crushed. It was over, wasn’t it? It was all over.

“...kill me,” Vash whispered. “Please. Nai, I can’t go on like this…I can’t-- everything I did, everyone I killed…there’s nowhere else for me to go. Not anywhere. It hurts so much, Nai. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please…please…I just want to disappear…”

“...that’s not true,” Nai said, gathering his brother up in an embrace. “I’m with you. I’ll always be with you. Even if you have nowhere to go…I’ll go there with you. Always.”

Nai...take care of your brother.

If they died here, like this, in each others arms…then that would be alright. Even if he broke yet another promise…Vash was alright now.

An explosion above them. Suddenly too weak to move, he tilted his head up. A cannon blast…? Oh. Their new sister from far away. He felt her. She…

He couldn’t… 

Vash screamed, holding him in one arm and grabbing his fallen gun in his other, shooting upwards, a black hole twisting into life and consuming the cannon blast in a burst of destructive light.

“No!” He howled. “Don’t hurt my brother! Leave us alone!”

“...Vash…” He whispered. His vision was greying. Was this it? He must really have burnt himself out in that fight, to reach out to the other plants. His Last Run…no, he thought, trying to force himself awake. He didn’t…want Vash to die, after all.

If one of them had to…it should just be him. Vash should…get to live, now that he was himself again. Should…get to see humanity as they are.

Should…receive the love he’d always wanted to give others. The peace he’d sought.

Livio...had saved his brother. He…wouldn’t do anything less.

He forced the last drops of his power out, feeling their faraway sister gearing up to keep firing. “Vash…” He rasped, voice dying out. “Hold on tight.”

“N-Nai?! Nai, wait, no! No, you’re already-- what are you doing?!”

A single wing burst from his back and he leapt, clinging to Vash. “Shut…shut up,” he mumbled. “Just…let me save you.”

“Nai, you idiot!” Vash screeched, scrabbling at the back of his coat. “Stop, stop, stop! You don’t have anything left!”

It was…kind of nice to be yelled at by his brother again, like this. Like it was…real. He’d missed the real Vash, under the mask.

Another wing-- Vash’s-- burst from his brother’s back, and Vash let out a frustrated cry. “Fine! Just-- I’m helping!”

Well…that was fine. Wherever they went…they’d be brothers again. Dead or alive…and together.

Sorry ‘bout this. We don’t mean t’treat an honored guest like this.

But we can’t let ya do that. I know you lot have been through some shit…but ya really gotta give him-- give us a chance.

Yeah, what he said. Y’won’t be sorry. Welcome to No Man’s Land, by the way. The two of us might not be th’ best welcomin’ committee, but…

Hey. It’s our home. Enjoy yer stay.

Chapter Text

EPILOGUE
Never Ending Song

SIX MONTHS LATER

VASH THE ANGEL AND NAI THE REAPER REMAIN AT LARGE, THEIR WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN. IT’S BEEN SIX MONTHS SINCE RUMORS OF THEIR DEATHS. SOME ARE EVEN STARTING TO QUESTION THE EARTH FEDERATION PEACE FORCE'S SEARCH FOR THE TWO.

“...Vash, what are you doing?”

Vash squeaked, looking up from where he was kneeling in the dirt in the backyard of the little clinic they’d been living in.

“Um.”

Nai loomed over him, arms crossed. “Um’s not an answer.”

Vash went pink, smiling sheepishly-- it wasn’t quite sincere, but it real. Awkward, crooked, shy and embarrassed. No longer a rictus mask of madness. “...gardening?”

“Vash.”

“Okay, okay!” Vash said, yelping even as his brother dragged him upright by the arm. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it!”

“Damn right, you won’t,” Nai snapped, though his eyes were fond. “I didn’t almost die for you to kill yourself growing-- what even were you planning to grow, you’re not a generator, idiot!”

“Um…I was gonna try?” Vash ventured. “And I-- I thought geraniums might be nice. You know, because…”

Nai softened. “Rem’s favorites,” he said. “I remember.”

He sighed, and then let go-- to smack Vash upside the head. “We’ll have the doc pick up some seeds from one of the Federation caravans. Make her a proper grave, if you want. But no killing yourself.”

“Fiiiine,” Vash whined, though his lips twitched into another smile, this one gentle and real-- the smile Nai would gladly nearly die a hundred times over to keep putting on Vash’s face at last. “No killing myself. Do you really have to put it like that?"

“Yes. It might sink in how shitty an idea it is if I put it like that.”

Vash snorted, moving to lean against Nai and sighing, sagging into his chest. “...m’sorry,” he mumbled, something that had become an endless refrain since they’d collapsed at this backwater clinic, Vash begging the humans that lived here to save his brother. For all that he was himself again, some wounds would never heal. The guilt would remain, heavy and choking, the lives he’d taken. The pain he’d caused. 

But…after six months, he was smiling again. Those eyes were no longer twisted with madness, but soft and kind once more. Wounded and weary, still in so many ways a lost child, but he was at last present in this reality. At least, Nai reflected, he already loved humans. 

He just needed to forgive himself.

“Vash! Nai!”

The doctor burst out from the back door and the two of them spun around. “They’re here!”

So they were. Nai swore and Vash winced as they scrambled inside, the doctor’s son pushing open the cellar so they could all drop in, even as the Federation trucks started bellowing for them to come out.

“Well, good times never last,” Nai said dryly, the boy scurrying to help him as he dug out his coat and the bag of supplies he’d already prepared for this occasion. “We’re sorry about this, doc.”

“Eh, don’t apologize,” the doctor said. “Brought a little excitement, didn’t you?”

Vash sniffled. “Thank you,” he said, wiping his face on his sleeve. “You didn’t have to help us after what I did, but...”

“You were so sincere, begging me like that, I couldn’t not,” the doctor told him. “Besides that, with the state you two were in…how are you feeling?”

“Much better!” Vash said. “Nai was worse off, though, so-- Nai, you’re okay, right?”

“Okay as I’ll ever be,” Nai said, tossing Vash his gun and strapping the knife he’d asked for a couple months ago-- a slightly curved combat knife, to make up for his loss of his own-- to his leg. “Considering how close I came, I can’t owe you enough for managing to get me back on my feet. Really. Thank you.”

“Alright, alright, now shoo!” The doctor said with a laugh. “Tunnel’s over there, get going. It should take you outside safely.”

Nai and Vash exchanged looks and nodded, scrambling through the tunnel until the spotted sky above them. Two head popped out from the grate, briefly, ducking back down at how many tanks there were outside.

And of course, their leader just had to pick then to speak up, voice crackling over his loudspeaker.

“This is the Earth Federation Peace Force! Dear citizens of Mesa Probe Church, you are completely surrounded. We have information that you are harboring two Ultra-S class fugitives. I’ll be direct with you. Hand over Vash the Angel and Nai the Reaper immediately. You have five minutes, and don’t try anything funny…or we’ll have to use force.” 

Nai and Vash exchanged looks.

Well, so much for sneaking away.

“You leave us no choice! We’re coming in! Five-- four-- three-- two--”

Nai landed on his back, bouncing his head against the tank.

The chaos was immediate. 

“Nai, what was that for?!” Vash wailed, bouncing off the neighboring tank as they took off. “I could’ve done something from way farther away!”

“You? You’ve been going on about not hurting anybody anymore for six months, what were you gonna do!?”

“Just as much as you, mister promised not to kill! Don’t underestimate how good my aim is!”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!”

Their argument stopped almost immediately as they ran into more trouble. Not just a whole troop of Federation soldiers, but the bounty hunters following them, apparently. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nai moaned. “Vash, our life is one of your cartoons.”

“...meep meep?”

“Vash!”

“Not sorry-- but run!” 

They took off again, then-- or tried to, anyway, as the Federation and the bounty hunters decided it was more important to start mouthing off at and shooting at each other. Which was fine enough as a distraction, but it just meant that now they were caught in the crossfire. Especially when they brought out the big guns.

Halfway staggering and halfway getting thrown out of the chaos, the two of them hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, Vash letting out a muffled whine as he got a mouthful of sand, and Nai struggling to get himself upright…only for his eyes to meet a pair of white boots.

Wait.

Slowly, slowly, his eyes tracked up.

“...Meryl?”

Yes, it was her. Milly right behind her, beaming. She glared at him, and he winced, trying to ignore Vash looking between them with more than a little interest, eyes glittering. 

“Honestly, Nai. I don’t believe you sometimes. Don’t tell me you forgot what you promised back in Octovern,” Meryl said sternly. “You said you’d come back, and how long has it been!? No wonder Brad gets so fed up with you all the time! Do you know what we’ve gone through trying to track you down?!”

Vash giggled, and then stifled it quickly, but it was too late, and Meryl’s eyes fixed on him. “And you!” She said. “Laugh it up, but we all have some words for you too!”

Vash winced and drooped, and Meryl looked startled. Milly swept in, though, and not for the first time Nai thought about how alike they were, she and his brother. “Now, now, ma’am, let’s get to know him first! He seems nice now, and it seems like he helped save Mr. Nai…so maybe the scolding can wait?”

“Fine,” Meryl said with a sigh. “Both of you, honestly. You really are brothers. Giving us all such a hard time.”

She smiled at him, then, as they both staggered to their feet, and punched Nai’s arm lightly. “There’s a lot of people waiting for you, you know. We’ve got to show them you’re alright.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, and he was almost about to grin, when the looks on the girls’ faces sent a chill down his spine. “...what are you two planning?”

“Weeeeell,” Meryl singsonged, as Milly dug for what was definitely not her concussion gun. “We’re not insurance agents anymore, did you know? Now we work for the No Man’s Land Broadcasting Network~! Their investigative reporting team!”

“...absolutely not, Meryl,” Nai said, eyes going very wide. “You’re not-- no! Absolutely not!”

“Smile, you’re on camera~!” Milly chirped. “Ma’am, your intro, go go go~!”

“Vash, run!” Nai yelled, grabbing his arm and dragging him off. “I’m not playing along with this!”

Vash yelped surprise, skidding along the sand for a moment-- waving at the girls, though, because he was like that-- before they both started running full tilt. He heard them shouting behind them, demanding him to stop and let them interview him, heard the Federation and bounty hunters yelling as well, and--

He startled himself by laughing.

And once he started, he couldn’t stop. Wild, almost joyous laughter ringing out across the sand as they tore across the desert.

Vash was quiet for a moment behind him, and then he too started laughing, their voices twining together as they both cackled wildly, freely, bright and almost hopeful.

Yes…maybe their life was ridiculous, but it was life. Imperfect, sometimes ugly, sometimes beautiful life, among these creatures called humans. Their song would ring out across the desert, together with their sisters, and life would go on. 

As long as you tried…as long as everyone simply tried their best, day by day, even if they made mistakes…one day, understanding would come. 

They all carried those blank tickets into tomorrow, after all.

“Well, ‘ey there, angel. Come here often?”

“--um! Hi! A-Are you one of Nai’s friends? I’m-- um-- not an angel, really, my name’s Vash!”

“Right, right, I knew that. Real ball of sunshine compared to your brother, ain’t ya? Spikey’s a sourpuss, but you, you’re not like that, yeah?”

“Hehe, nope! Nai really is a grump, isn’t he? I’m not!”

“Yeah, I knew that. Used to work for you for a bit.”

“Oh.”

“Aw, don’t make that face. Wasn’t so bad. But seriously, Sunshine. S’good to see a real smile on that face. Couldn’t see you last time we met-- long story-- an’ I wasn’t really all there, but I could still hear ya. Yer cheer sounded so fake it itched, an’ all I can remember is how damn sad you sounded. Yer a lot better now, aren’t you?”

“...y-yeah. Yeah, guess so. Um--”

“Oh right! Nicholas D. Wolfwood, at yer service. Pleasure’s all mine.”

“...Livio. Is your brother hitting on my brother.”

“Oh god I think he is.”

“God help us. I can’t decide which of them is biting off more than they can chew.”

“Yeah, even odds on that, haha! But…if it makes them happy, I think neither of us mind, right?”

“Right. Though if he hurts Vash…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll kick his ass too, if he does. Though same goes vice versa, y’know?”

“I wouldn’t stop you if Vash was that stupid about it.”

“Hah! Fair enough. ……..um. Nai?”

“Yeah?”

“...um. I-- th-that is, I-- speakin’ of that, um….I-I know it’s-- it’s kinda sudden, and out of the blue, and you don’t like humans in general I know so I figure you’re kinda not interested in this sorta thing so it might be a little stupid of me t’feel this way, but I can’t not at this point an’ I was waitin’ so long to-- to, um-- an’ now you’re home, and-- um-- m-maybe-- I jus’ wanted to tell you-- mmph!”

“...you’re rambling.”

“....oh.”

“Oh.”

“...so…we’re…?”

“Yes, Livio. I love you too.” 

“Haha, you can be so blunt sometimes, huh? I love you, Nai.”