[ Knives' hands land on the collar of his jacket, fingers in the fabric and Vash raises his up to grab his brother's wrists tightly. He grimaces, teary eyed face snapping forward to scowl at his brother all over again. ]
What about the lives of the people here! They matter too! Their second chances matter. I'll live here with them until we can figure out a way we can ALL go back. You too.
[ There's nothing for Nai to go back to, and that too Vash still blames himself for. But then, quieter, from the small kernel of something that's been growing in his chest since he came back here: ]
[His eyes widen in disbelief.] Your idea of happiness has almost destroyed you. If I hadn't been there when the crystal threatened to consume you, then...
[Still incensed, another, more indeciperable expression crosses his face, and his grip on Vash's collar loosens. The memory still makes him furious, but more than that, more than anything--]
Listen to me, Vash. I refuse to let you throw your life away again.
[ There's something desperate and pathetically lost in Vash's expression the moment Knives finishes talking. From anyone else, perhaps Vash would find those words inspiring, or supportive. Instead, without intention, Vash feels a well of dread start to fill the pit of his stomach. ]
I won't let you throw away your second chance at it either.
[ There's a stubborn set to his jaw, despite the emotion scrawled along the way his brow pinches upward. His grip on his brother's wrists doesn't let up either. ]
[For a moment, Knives almost wonders if he'd talked sense into him. Then he says that, and he's quick to rip his wrists out of Vash's grip, as if recoiling in disgust.]
My killer doesn't get to lecture me on what I do with my life.
[ Oh. Like hitting the tail on a Prince Rupert's Drop, something breaks. ]
Yeah.
[ Vash doesn't say anything else. He turns, picks up the bag of feed and walks into the barn. Robotically, he cuts the bag open and lays a long line of feed into the central bin. He doesn't say anything; there are no more crocodile tears. ]
[Knives follows after him in silence, only to linger at the barn entrance like an unwelcome spirit. He seems like he's just observing at first, but soon Vash will hear the scrape of claws notching a deep groove into one of the doors. It will, he decides, serve as a reminder.]
We're going back. Until then, keep playing pretend all you like, Vash. It won't change the outcome.
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What about the lives of the people here! They matter too! Their second chances matter. I'll live here with them until we can figure out a way we can ALL go back. You too.
[ There's nothing for Nai to go back to, and that too Vash still blames himself for. But then, quieter, from the small kernel of something that's been growing in his chest since he came back here: ]
Is it really that wrong to want to be happy?
no subject
[Still incensed, another, more indeciperable expression crosses his face, and his grip on Vash's collar loosens. The memory still makes him furious, but more than that, more than anything--]
Listen to me, Vash. I refuse to let you throw your life away again.
no subject
I won't let you throw away your second chance at it either.
[ There's a stubborn set to his jaw, despite the emotion scrawled along the way his brow pinches upward. His grip on his brother's wrists doesn't let up either. ]
I'm sorry.
no subject
My killer doesn't get to lecture me on what I do with my life.
no subject
Yeah.
[ Vash doesn't say anything else. He turns, picks up the bag of feed and walks into the barn. Robotically, he cuts the bag open and lays a long line of feed into the central bin. He doesn't say anything; there are no more crocodile tears. ]
no subject
We're going back. Until then, keep playing pretend all you like, Vash. It won't change the outcome.