Disclaimers: Author does not own these things. Author owns nothing except for her own insanity.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Somewhere in time, there is a circle.
Somewhere in time, the circle will be complete.
Somewhere in time, love is forever.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Knives looks at me as if he is totally confused and utterly surprised. I guess he has every reason to be. What was expected to take a few days has taken only one, and I’m already at the door to his hotel room, laying claim to nothing but the clothes on my back and the downcast, shadowed look upon my face. “Is something wrong?”

Not like him to be worried. I step past him through the doorway and into the room, immediately going to the only bed and lying down on it. I take the three guns off of my person and place them on the table beside the bed before curling in on myself, wrapping long limbs around long limbs. The headache that had shown up yesterday has resumed its pulsing pain, and added to the fact that I didn’t get a good night’s sleep and haven’t eaten yet, I’m not feeling all that well. Not to mention that I’m still somewhat caked with mud from head to toe.

Knives stands over the bed, giving me one of his common, “you’re pathetic” looks, crossing arms over chest. I don’t bother to disagree. “What’s wrong?”

I shift around in the bed just a bit, eyes glancing around nervously. “I just don’t feel well.”

“You don’t look well.”

“Thank you.”

A moment of silence stretches between us as we stare back at one another, eyes locked. I finally give up and turn away from him on the bed, switching sides. When I feel the bed shift a bit beside me, I sigh, knowing that Knives isn’t going to give up until he finds out what’s wrong. He’s sitting down, readying himself to drag it out of me, by force if necessary. I turn to him, anger sprawled across my face, but I stop when I see a pair of calm blue eyes and a gentle smile. Face rested against the pillow next to me, his smile softens even more into an expression I never thought Knives capable of as he wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me closer.

“Knives?”

“Vash.”

I would ask him what he’s doing, but wouldn’t it spoil the moment? Instead I give in, resting my head against his arm and burying my face into his neck. He rests his chin against my forehead and I feel his breathing, warm and steady, tickling my hair just slightly. Why is he doing this? Why is he holding me so close, comforting me, and caring so much? It’s like an alternate dimension, the good turned bad and vice versa. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply and relaxing as I put one arm around his waist, as well. We haven’t done anything like this since we were children on the Seeds ship. I’d forgotten how much I’d missed it.

“I’m sorry about what happened, Vash.”

I nod just enough for him to feel it, knowing that being this close to him delves deeper than just the physical, and that he’s probably already learned about yesterday’s happenings. “I really… really cared about him.”

I almost expect him to make some snide comment about him being only a human, or not being worthy of me. He surprises me, though. “I know.”

Once again, he never ceases to amaze me. Knowing when I’m not in the mood for any of his normal antics, he takes care of me instead. I will never understand how one minute he can seem so cruel, and the next he can be so considerate and kind. “Was it somehow previously decided that I would have a miserable life, Knives?”

He sighs a bit. “For someone who once took everything that Rem said to heart, you certainly don’t seem to have a single clue what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“ ‘Your ticket to the future is always blank.’ ”

The words seem to echo in my mind, almost as if it’s the only thing there at present. How could I once believe the so whole-heartedly when I knew better? I’ve seen the workings of life, and how bad things like to pour themselves down when you need it the least. This is the ultimate evil, though. My life is coming to an end and I’ve already dismissed whatever remaining chance of happiness I may have had in a matter of minutes. “Do you believe that?”

“Despite the fact that a human came up with it, I find myself believing it at times.”

I hold him a little tighter, desperate to grasp anything solid, anything that I can count on. Knives believing Rem’s sentiments is something I would never dream of hearing him admit to. “I understand that he had reasons, but it’s not right to kill people. Even you learned that.”

He grunts a bit at my statement before exhaling in what appears to be a sigh of pity. I used to wonder, back years ago after our big fight with the guns, if perhaps Knives was just biding his time, crouching and planning in dark corners to release his wrath on me and the human race once again. He didn’t though. He really has changed. “You didn’t shove your ideals on Nicholai like you did with Chapel…”

“Please don’t call him that.”

“…Wolfwood. Maybe he had a reason to kill that man, and nothing stood in his way, because he didn’t have you there, behind him, constantly nagging and saying that it’s wrong.”

There should be no good reason. There should be no excuses. What he did was wrong, pure and simple. There are rules set out in every man’s life, regardless of anything else, that should never be shunned. Simple virtues such as not killing or stealing, being kind to one another, helping people out. “Either way, I don’t want to see him again.”

He shifts slightly for a moment before speaking. “I would say that I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not. Regardless of anything that happens, I still want you all to myself.”

I smile a bit at his words, pulling closer and shutting my eyes. “You’ll always be my brother.” He may have done some horrible things in his life, but I still forgave him… I forgave him, and I love him all the same. I open my eyes suddenly and pull away from him, sitting upright in bed. “I made a mistake, Knives! I made a horrible, horrible mistake!” I put my hand on my forehead and lean forward a bit, the pain worsening with my shout.

He grabs the back of my shirt, pulling me back down into the bed. “You should rest,” he says simply before throwing his legs over the side and standing.

I lay there reluctantly, tired all the same. “But you don’t understand. I forgave you for everything you’ve ever done, and Nicholai…”

“Dammit, Vash… just go to sleep.” He pulls a pillow out from under me and puts it over my head, blocking out the light. “There’s nothing you can do about it right now. We have work to do when you wake up.”

I turn on my side, burying my face in the one pillow beneath my head. The other slips off and onto the floor as I nod and close my eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Somebody is poking me in the ribs. Somebody… “Nicholai?”

“You wish. Get up. We’re going to New Oregon.”

I finally open my eyes, greeted by Knives kneeling on the floor next to the bed, gathering up some papers and books. “What? What’re those?”

He glances at me, then back at the papers, shoving a few into an open book before closing it. “I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with the plants. It’s hopeless here, though. She’s already dead.”

I sit up in the bed, yawning and rubbing my eyes a bit. “Where’re we going?”

“New Oregon.”

“Why?”

“Certainly you remember the flying ship?” I nod. “It crashed near New Oregon. If the computers in there are still working, we may be able to find something out.” He shoves the books and papers into a black duffel bag and zips it up before tossing it over his shoulder. I didn’t think Knives would be this adamant or fast moving in his race to save the plants. Maybe he cares about the future of the planet, after all.

I stretch a bit before putting my feet on the floor, yawning and a bit disoriented. I then look down at my clothing still caked in mud and sneer. I need a shower and clean clothes. “What time is it?”

“Time to get moving. The sand steamer leaves in ten minutes. You can take a shower there.”

I nod, standing slowly to follow Knives out of the room and down the hall. He returns the room key at the front desk, dispensing with the small talk, as usual, and walks outside, duffel bag over his shoulder. I squint a bit as the sunlight of mid afternoon shines into my eyes, cupping my hand at my forehead to shield my eyes. Above the buildings, not far away, is the outline of the sand steamer. Knives immediately walks in that direction. “I just remembered that I never got my thomas back in December.”

“Then it’s theirs now. You’ve got better things to worry about.”

“I know, but…” I kick at some of the dirt on the ground as I shuffle my feet, steadily beginning to lag behind as Knives plows through the crowded streets on the way to the sand steamer. I quicken my pace just a bit to catch up with him, walking by his side and looking at him expectantly. “Do you think we’ll be able to figure out what’s wrong with the plants?”

He shrugs a bit, nearly frowning. “I don’t know. There are hundreds of plant technicians, and they don’t have a fucking clue what they’re doing. I think you and I have the best chance.”

“What if we can’t figure out what’s wrong?”

He nearly stops walking, only stalling for a moment in his steps as he looks at me, sneering. “Don’t you have anything better to occupy your mind with, rather than the and of all life on this planet?”

I shake my head as we arrive at the entrance to the sand steamer. “It’s the only thing I want to think about right now.” The line steadily moves forward, and in no time Knives is handing out tickets over as we step into the hulking ship and enter darkened corridors.

“I suppose it’s better than you whining about Nicholai’s idiocy,” he admonishes, navigating his way through the long stretches of hallway and stairs that lead to the first class rooms. He opens the door to our room and steps inside, immediately taking the bag from his shoulder and placing it on the nearest bed before settling down next to it. “Go take a shower and do whatever. I’ve got things to do.”

I nod at him mutely before closing the door behind me and making my way across the room to the bathroom. I open the door to step inside, but stop, leaning my forehead against the door for a second before glancing back at him. His face turned down as he reads from one of the many books spread out across the blanket on the bed. “Knives…?”

He doesn’t even bother to look up, eyes rapidly moving left to right as he reads the page at astonishing speeds. “Hm?”

“I just… wanted to say thank you, for everything.” For caring about me, for being there when I needed him, for adding a sense of reality and something constant other than tears to my life.

He glances up from the book for a moment, a serious and indescribable look on his face, before returning to reading. “Um… yeah.”

I smirk just a bit before moving into the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I hope I didn’t embarrass him or something.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I grin, opening the door to the room as I stick my head through the crack. Knives doesn’t look up, instead choosing to continue on with reading. I shift the bag around in my hand as I push the door open a bit more and step inside, closing it behind me. “I got us something to eat.”

“Why?”

Shifting the bag once more, I make my way to his bed, sitting down at the foot of it and taking out a wrapped salmon sandwich. I hold it out for him. “I thought maybe we could eat while we go over some of this stuff.”

He looks at the sandwich and then me before taking it from my hand and unwrapping it. “What is this?”

“Salmon, mayonnaise, pickles, and cheese on white bread.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I like it.”

“You would probably eat sand roaches, if you had to.”

I unwrap my own sandwich, crossing one leg over the other as I pull one of the books into my lap. “Maybe I would.” I glance down at the cover of the book, which proclaims “Plant Engineering Basics” in bold silver letters on black casing. I smile at the author’s name. Elizabeth Johannes. I remember her; the beautiful woman who once begged for my death in Inepril city, whose parents were killed after July city was destroyed. I never thought she would write a book, though. She always kept her secrets from others.

I take a bite of the sandwich, not even bothering to swallow before I speak. “So what have you found out so far?”

He tosses his sandwich aside, turning a page in the book. “Some stuff I would rather not have known. And I think we’ll find out even more when we get to the ship in New Oregon.”

“What kind of stuff?”

He frowns a bit, pointing to a spot in the book before turning it around and handing it to me. I hold my sandwich with one hand as I take the book with the other and pile it onto the one in my lap, reading the paragraph that he had pointed to out loud. “Plant – Equipment, including machinery, tools, instruments, and fixtures, and the buildings containing them, necessary for any industrial or manufacturing process. The plants of these times are encased in glass structures and manufacture electricity for the powering of municipalities. Though the word, “plant” leads us to believe that they are, in whole, machines, plants are actually living beings, given a name as such in reference to their asexual reproduction abilities and growth due to the synthesis of inorganic substances. The main computer of each plant, usually located separately from its corresponding unit, controls the delivery of substances needed to spawn new growth upon each plant, referred to as “buds,” as with the bud of a flower. Each bud then forms a separate yet identical living organism, containing maximum power. This reproduction means that plants are, in a word, inexhaustible.” I glance up at him, eyebrows knit together. “What does this mean?”

He reaches over and takes the book from my lap, replacing it in his own before picking up the salmon sandwich and chomping out a large bite. “I guess it means that plants can only reproduce if they’re told to.”

“But then, how…?”

“How were we born? I don’t know. That’s one thing I’m hoping to find out. However, considering that we are sentient beings, outside the bulbs, it’s likely that whatever is killing the plants won’t effect us.”

“You’re right. It could be something as simple as the computers that controls them needing some maintenance.” I smile a bit at that, taking another bite of my sandwich as my hopes rise. If it’s true, I’ll likely be given more time to fix the things that have happened with Nicholai, and we’ll be able to save everyone, while we’re at it.

“I think if it were something that simple, it would have already been fixed.” I frown a bit, still chewing as my brain runs in circles, wondering what it should worry about most.

“I thought you believed the human race to be obtuse when it came to the plants?”

“I put a little more faith in them than that, after reading some of these books.”

I nod, finding that a bit surprising, and pick up one of the books, opening it up. “So when we get to New Oregon, then what?”

“Then we go to where the ship crashed, go inside, and get to the main control panel.”

“You know that there’s a town there now.” The two plants that had remained up and running when the ship crashed into the planet are now used to power the town that has been built around it.

“Actually, the two towns have grown together, since then. It’s all a part of New Oregon, now.”

I raise my eyebrows, looking up from the book. “It is?”

He looks back at me. “Yes, it is. You really should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

“The last time I went there to get my new arm, they were still separate towns.”

“That was at least fifty years ago, Vash,” he says, giving me a strange look as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. In truth, I can’t believe it myself. Fifty years? How is that possible? Have I really been so thoughtless that I haven’t bothered to go back and see the Doc’s great-grandson, who made the previous arm for me, or Jessica’s great-granddaughter, who looks exactly like her?

“I guess I just… never really thought to go back. This arm looks and feels real, so I don’t think it can get any better.” Maybe there were too many memories floating around there. Too much time spent with Wolfwood, too many deaths to stay around for long enough. If you hang out in the graveyards, you’re only inviting the ghosts in.

“Well then, I guess that means it’s time for another visit.”

I finish off my sandwich, wadding up the clear plastic wrapper into a ball and tossing it towards the trashcan in the corner of the room. It ricochets off and lands on the carpet. “I guess so.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sky is dark, one blue moon and one red hanging over the town as we make our way off the sand steamer in a jumbled crowd of people. Street lamps line the rows of buildings, the only light showing at this hour of night. Cold air hits me, and I shiver a bit, shoving my hands into the pockets of my pants. Knives leads the way, weaving through the crowd that is steadily dispersing on his way to, what I can guess, is the site of the ship.

I see bulking outcroppings against the horizon that is only slightly less darkened than the star-filled sky. Framework exposed between layers of metallic casings jutting out and obscuring the sky. It appears to be even more run-down than before, the effects of time and harsh environment taking its toll on the once fantastic ship, the epitome of lost technology. What was once a huge, magnificent floating structure is now weatherworn and uninhabitable, the plants being the only living beings residing inside. Jason, the Doc’s great-grandson, is now one of the sole proprietors of the remaining plants inside the ship, and lives no more than twenty feet away. “Shouldn’t we go talk to Jason before we go inside?” I quietly ask, afraid to speak to loudly, should it wake some of the sleeping townspeople.

“Do you really think it’s necessary to wake him up for this?”

I glance at his house to the left, and the ship’s remnants to the right. “Yes.”

Knives shakes his head at me. “You do it. I’m going inside.” He continues on his way to the ship, once more adjusting the strap of the duffel bag for easier carrying. I turn and walk towards Jason’s house, grinning and a bit excited.

Making my way up the wooden steps of the front porch, I give up attempting silence, as I’m soon to wake him, anyway, and knock on the door. After a few moments, I knock again. The sound of my knuckles hitting the wood echoes around me for a moment before a light scuffling inside the confines of the house is heard. The door slowly opens, revealing a young man around the age of eighteen, wearing nothing more than a pair of pants. He scratches at his head, a messy mop of dark brown hair, before looking at me. “Can I help you?”

“I’m… here to see Jason?”

“He’s sleeping.”

“It’s kind of important.” He steps aside and opens the door fully so that I can make my way inside. The inner structure is exactly as I remember it, a rustic mix of browns and yellows, neutral tones. Even the same beige carpet and brown sofa, though both now a bit worn. The young man retreats into the hallway of the house next to the kitchen as I make myself comfortable on the sofa, glancing around at all of the pieces of furniture with cracks and scratches and the various ceramic items and books lining the wooden shelves.

A moment later, the young man returns, followed by what I can only guess is Jason; graying hair steadily thinning and wearing a pair of striped pajamas, spectacles, and red slippers, he is not what I had imagined. “Jason?” I ask, standing and turning fully towards him.

“Well, if it isn’t Vash the Stampede,” he laughs, holding out a rough, calloused hand which I reluctantly take with my own, shaking it. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.”

I nod solemnly. “Nearly fifty years, yes.”

“This is my grandson, Tommy.” He gestures to the young man who offers a quick wave and a ‘nice to meet you’ before retreating once more into the hallway, probably going back to bed. “So what brings you here, all of a sudden?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall nearby casually. He may be older, but he’s exactly how I remember him, a strange mix of rebellious attitude and conformity. He’s still fairly short, too.

“I guess you’ve heard about the plants all over Gunsmoke failing.” He nods. “My brother and I are here to take a look at these, maybe figure out what’s going on.”

He nods a bit more, uncrossing his arms with a yawn. “We haven’t had any problems with the ones here yet, but we can never be too cautious, right?” I nod back. “It’s the middle of the night, and you know where everything is, so I’m sure you know what to do. Stop by again tomorrow, and we’ll talk then.”

I grin, give him another handshake and a goodbye wave, and then make my way out the door and across the sand strewn with patches of grass that leads to the ship. As I approach the main opening to the inner structure, Knives appears in front of me, looking grave. I continue inside, until I’m face to face with him. He’s frowning, apparently not happy with whatever is going on. “What’s wrong?”

He turns around and begins walking down a hallway to the left, the one that leads to the main computer room near the center of the ship. “Follow me. I found something that I think you may be interested in.