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Blue Skies of Eden	By : beowulfsword Category: +S to Z > Trigun Views: 2133 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: I do not own nor help create Trigun or the wonderful sexy godliness I like to refer to as . . . Knives.

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Author's Note: I finally got my Millions Knives messenger bag last week along with the Trigun Maximum manga volumes 4-8!
Curious as to what my bag looks like? Go here: www-circlered-com/650b-tgkni-html ((Just replaces the first two dashes and the last dash with periods.))

Also, anyone else know that there is a Trigun movie being released somewhere in '07? OMG, I'm so freaking psyched! I can't wait! :D
And, dude, Knives is so freaking hawt in the manga! He has a MOLE like Vash! And his style of clothing is sexy, too, ;3.
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For Adultfanfiction-net Reviews: lmao, Amanda, thank you so much for your harassing reviews, though I sure you meant them in a caring way, ;P. I hope this chapter was worth the wait and I will try to write the next one as quick as possible. I plan to put much humor in it . . . well, as much humor as I can put without getting Knives TOO OOC . . .

For Fanfiction-net Reviews:

MizuiroHiei: Dude, do not EVER think you're leaving a review too long for me. I LOVE long reviews and I get absolutely peeved when I'm alerted about a review and go to check it out, all excited and stuff, only to have it say something like, "Update.", or "It's good. Update." I would rather not be reviewed if that's all I'm going to get.
Anyway, yes, I wish there were more Knives fans out there, and man! I left you a freaking big review for the 3^rd chapter of "Undiscovered Angels" and now I'm really upset that you didn't get it. Guess I'll redo it later after I get this up.
Hope you enjoy this chapter! :]

Igbodal: Yes! Another long review leaver! Hey, I'm really sorry for leaving you hanging, so I hope this makes up for it. And wow, thanks for the compliments. I'm really flattered! Maybe you can write a Knives romance, too? PLEASE?! ;-;
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Title: Blue Skies of Eden

Anime Category: Trigun

Genre: Romance/Action/Humor/Violence

Rating: Mature

Parings: Knives/Original Character

Summary: Knives lives for his ideal dreams of an Eden for him, Vash, and the rest of his species. Despite what his brother's insistent reasoning, he will always despise humans and entertain any idea that deals with destroying them. Until one day he wakes up to find himself lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, with a broken and badly burned body, and in the care of a human woman who he suspects injured him in the first place.

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Chapter Two: Tiptoe Through the Tulips

"Jeez, look at the damage," sighed the young man with short, chocolate-brown hair, his concealed brown eyes traveling over the charred remains of Novembre.
Next to him stood a short woman with bushy red hair pulled back in a thick ponytail, and next to her stood another young man. All three of them wore slim, black sunglasses and coats designed to protect their bodies from being buffered by any harsh sandy winds or dust storms.
" . . . Where are the residents? Surly they weren't all killed?" murmured the other young man, his shaggy black hair hanging in his vision.
The brown-haired man scoffed, waving a dismissive hand and began walking down the short ways to the demolished town. "Who cares? They were criminals anyway. I say good riddance."
The woman sighed, tucking a loose strand of fiery-red hair behind her ear and titling her soft, cream-tinted face to the suns and the cloudless angel-blue skies, then glanced back at the soft-spoken man standing next to her before pushing her feet forward, making her way toward the rubble-reduced town as well, tossing over her shoulder, "Come along, Darian, before Mr. Allow-Me-To-Strut-My-Stuff Madison starts throwing his weight around again."
" . . . Sir, yes, sir."
---
Madison, slowly walking through the destruction, his boss and friend left behind, carefully surveyed the pills of charred debris, all of his senses on alert for any signs of survivors. He frowned, running a gloved hand through his short brown hair, and then turned to his companions as they quietly walked up to him.
"I don't get it. Where are the bodies? I mean, I don't even see a disembodied arm or leg or . . . anything!"
"Funny, I thought I mentioned that earlier . . . ," Darian growled, looking crossed.
"Shut up, Anti-Social Guy," Madison snapped, then promptly ignored the look of hurt anger that darkened the dark-haired man's soft features.
"No, you shut up, Madison, and that's an order. I also order you to cease being a prick to everyone," snarled the woman, glaring at him over the rim of her shades, forest-green eyes daring him to defy.
Madison, looking about ready to do just that, turned his head away and stared down at his scruffy black boots.
"Madison!" she barked.
"Sir, yes, sir!"
Nodding curtly, she began forward again, commanding over her shoulder, "Now apologize. And be sincere about it."
Looking like a scolded child, he watched as the small woman walked ahead of them. Glaring, he turned to the taller man and gritted out, "Sorry."
Darian gave him a cold look, but he accepted the apology anyway with a small nod and started after the woman.
He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Admiral's Pet," and then fell in step behind his comrades.
As he began to catch up with them, something caught his immediate attention. He stopped abruptly, his eyes locked on what appeared to be a small piece of pale blue fabric caught under some the debris, rustling slightly in the heated wind.
Frowning, he moved toward the pill of burnt and splintered wood, and he crouched down in front of the cloth, catching it in his fist and giving it a sharp tug only to find it wouldn't budge.
"Wha . . . ?" His frown deepened and he tugged harder, but to no avail.
Grunting in frustration, he stood up and looked around, spotting a lengthy section of pipe nearby. Picking it up and forcing it under a thick section of wood, he used the steel object as a leverage to lift and move the heavy rubble, though only just a little bit.
What he saw under it made him cringe, seeing that the torn piece of fabric had been a sleeve and was still dressing the arm he uncovered.
He was about to leave to inform the other two of the body he found when the revealed hand curled into a fist, and he heard a pained groan under all the debris.
"Oh, shit!" he cried, eyes widening. He quickly grasped the jagged edges of what he figured to be a wall, his muscles straining to lift it while he screamed for his companions, pure panic gripping his voice.
As the other two came running toward him, confusion unmasked on their faces, he shouted, "Someone's alive under here!"
Immediately they fell in on either side of him, taking firm grips on the large bit of wood and the woman shouted, "One the count of three! One! Two! Three!"
Together they lifting with all the strength they could muster up, pulling the heavy chunk of wall up and higher over their heads as they started walking under it, pushing it straight up and then shoving it backwards, it landing with a bang and causing dust and sand to erupt into the air.
They dusted their hands off on their coats while their eyes stared down at the man that lay there at their feet, his clothes unsalvageable, his slim body broken and burned. He groaned, eyes sliding open only slightly, starkly bright blue eyes gazing up at them.
"Ginger . . . ?" Madison whispered, looking at the woman for orders.
"Don't call me that, Madison," she mumbled, kneeling next to the man and locking her eyes with his; forest to sky.
"Sir, can you speak?" she asked softly. His breathing was labored and the look in his beautiful angel-blue eyes were of pain and confusion, and his face expressed his struggle to stay conscious as he wavered in and out of it.
She leaned in closer and cupped his face gently, steadying his head as she leaned over him. She could tell that under all the scratches, burns, and bruises that littered his face lied a strikingly handsome man, but she quickly ran off that thought as she focused on communicating with him.
Suddenly, something changed in his clouded gaze; something cold and aware crept into those eyes that reflected the color of heaven.
She almost pulled away, a sense of danger crawling up her spine and lifting the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She quickly shook the feeling off however, and steeled her resolve, looking him bodly in the eye.
"Sir, I need you to tell me where you're hurt. My men and I will try to assist you the best we can."
His eyes narrowed, giving him a deadly appearance despite his injuries. His lips, caked in dried blood from the nasty cut sliced into their fullness, moved slowly and he hoarsely whispered in pure disgust, "hu .. mans .."
She watched as his eyes drifted closed again and felt the tension leave his body at once, leaving him limp and vulnerable in his unconscious state. Frowning, she gently picked up his wrist and felt for his pulse, feeling it weakly bump against her fingertips.
Sighing, she looked up at the men standing over her. "Help me get him to the jeep."
---
He felt weightless, like a feather. The pain that had been giddily clawing and tearing at his body had curiously disappeared, and now he felt nothing except for the overwhelming sense of peace.
He felt his lips pull into a small smile, reveling in the calmness that embraced him warmly. Beneath him the ground was soft and cool, definitely not the usual hot dryness of the desert floor he had had grown accustomed to. He felt the healthy, crisp blades of grass between his fingers and he took a moment to explore their texture.
His head lay supported on something soft and he dimly became aware of someone sliding their fingers through his hair, stroking it gently as a soft, melodic humming reached his ears. He frowned slightly, finding that the tune was awfully familiar; a tune he suddenly remembered he enjoyed listening to at one point in his life.
His blonde eyebrows drew together in confusion, and he slowly opened his eyes, blue skies and puffy white clouds lazily drifting around greeting his hazy vision first.
"Oh, you're awake now?"
His body tensed at that cheerful voice and his eyes moved to gaze up at the woman of his past, her jean-clad legs stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankles with his head resting in her lap as she idly smoothed back and petted his soft pale hair with one hand while supporting her upper body with the other.
Baggy white t-shirt tucked inside her jeans; long, raven-black hair cascading down her back like a curtain of silk; soft, feminine features with large brown eyes gazing down at him with such kindness and trust that it made him cringe, and a smile, so beautiful and happy, that could have made the angels in heaven envious.
She looked just as he had last remember her to be.
Just the sight of her made his heart ache.
"Rem . . . , " he whispered, still lying there, staring up at her in confusion and wonderment. Her eyes twinkled with merriment.
"Wow, you've really grown up, Knives! And very handsomely, too! Just like Vash," she complimented happily.
He swallowed hard, his eyes stinging with tears. She continued to smile as she removed her hand from his hair and stroked his cheek affectionately.
"I'm . . . sorry, Rem," he whispered. "You weren't supposed to die . . . I didn't want you to die . ."
"Shhhh . . ., " she shushed gently, still smiling at him with wholly love, and moved her hand back through his hair while humming her favorite song once more. He remained quiet, just watching her as she gazed up at the sky, and after a while he slid his eyes closed again, just listening and feeling.

'Rem . . . mother . . . ,' he thought distantly as he allowed himself to be lulled back to sleep with her voice and the sensation of her fingers caressing his hair . . .
---
"Hey! He's waking up," someone whispered next to him.
The pain was unbearable. It was worse than when Vash had shot him down.

Vash . . .
His eyes snapped open and he looked around almost frantically. Three humans stood over him, two male, the other female.
Where was he? Where was Vash?
He struggled to move, but when he did, the red-hot feeling of pain attacked his muscles and flesh and coursed up different parts of his body. A surprised cry escaped his lips, and he fell back against the soft pillows tucked behind him, his teeth clenched tightly and sweat beading on his brow.
"Whoa, whoa! Jeez, don't move, you idiot," snapped the man standing closest to him. He glared up at him and the man glared back, his chocolate-brown eyes hard and his shortly cropped brown hair messy and unkempt.
"Stop it, Madison," growled the woman sitting at his side on the bed and rearranging the clean white sheets lightly blanketing his body, the cool softness of the thin fabric brushing against his pained flesh.
He froze then, and his sky-blue eyes swiveled toward the woman, accusation in their cold depths.
He was naked.
When she glanced up and saw the look he was giving her, her emerald-green eyes began dancing with mischief as she smiled pleasantly.
"I had to undress you, otherwise how else would I be able to locate your injuries and bandage or set them accordingly?"
His response was to narrow his eyes, the look in them turning deadly. She ignored it and reached up to fluff his pillows, causing him to tense and have him grind his teeth together when his body protested.
"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. Jeez, you're really paranoid," she said idly before sitting back and placing her hands in her lap, looking him fully in the eye. "To be blunt, you've sustained five broken ribs and three bruised ones, fractures of the wrist, radius, and ulna in your right arm, a cracked collarbone, a cracked tibia in your right leg, and a dislocation of your left shoulder. Oh, and any minor cuts and bruises after that. It's a miracle you're still alive!"
He just stared at her in what only could be considered aghast.

'Well . . . that would explain why it's such a bitch to move,' he thought, annoyed as he regained his composure.
"My name is Ginger Waterwake by the way, commander of the basic boot camp and artillery training here," she informed, smiling. He just cocked a pale blonde eyebrow at her, refusing to give her the pleasure of speaking to her. She wasn't at all bothered by his silence and set about introducing the other two.
"The man next to you is my second in command and strategy coordinator, Madison Sunbrick, and standing over there by the door is Darian Blackward, our personal weapons smith."
He studied the black-haired human standing off in the shadowed corner by the door, eyeing him curiously yet warily. Something about him set off warning bells in his head, and though the human couldn't touch him on a better day, he was going to have to watch himself while in his current bed-ridden state.
"So, what's your name?" the fiery-haired woman, Ginger it was, inquired. He gave her a look that basically read 'I'm not going to tell you, so don't leave off the subject.'

She had the audacity to appear amused. The man by the name of Madison Sunbrick was anything but.
"What are you? Mute or something?" he asked rudely, scowling. The woman's amused expression turned black and cold so quick, even he had to blink twice to make sure he'd just witnessed thr dramatic mood change.
"That's it Madison, get outside and give me fifty!"

'Fifty? Fifty what?' he thought, watching as the brown-haired man opened his mouth to argue.
"No? Then perhaps you'd like to give me a hundred instead?"
He watched as the man snapped his mouth shut again and glowered.
"Sir, yes, sir, " he ground out, glaring at the floor.
His eyebrows shot up.
"'Yes' what, Madison . . .?" she whispered silkily, the look in her eyes reflecting retaliation for any disobedience.
The man jerked up into a stiff, upright posture, the heels of his boots clicking together and his arms snapping down at his sides, thrusting his chest out, and he lifted his chin.
"Fifty push-ups, sir!"
"Well then, what are you wait for? Tea? Get your sorry ass out under those suns and give me some push-ups!" she barked, her voice so loud and sharp.
As the man sliced the air with his hand to bring it to his forehead and whipped it back down in a silent salute and understanding of his orders, and then abruptly turned and marched out of the room and down the hall, she called out to him, "And you better sweat off some of that unpleasant attitude of yours or I'll be doubling your chores for a month!"
He heard a muffled 'sir, yes, sir!' followed by the opening and slamming of the door downstairs.
The woman turned to him then, a pretty smile shinning under the light sprinkling of freckles dusting her cheeks and the bridge of her small, upturned nose. He blinked at her sudden change in mood again.

' . . . Creepy, odd creatures they all are,' he thought miserably, knowing he was not going to be leaving anytime soon with his injuries being so serious. And leaving basically incapacitated.

"Sorry about that," she said, looking sincere about it. "You just have to turn a deaf ear and blind eye on Madison. He thinks he's such big stuff and tends to forget who really runs the show around here."
He just looked at her like she was the weirdest thing he'd ever seen. Still smiling, she patted his leg gently, gaining an sneering twist of his lips and a flashing of cold fire in his bright blue eyes, before getting up.
"Just rest, all right? I'll be back in about half an hour to bring you some lunch and check up on your wounds. Maybe then you'll be feeling up to explaining who you are and what happened, ne?"
With that she walked out of the room, motioning for the silent, coal-black haired man to follow, but not before leveling his steel-gray gaze with his ice-blue ones.
"Darian?" the woman's distance voice called.
Blinking once, the man turned and silently left the room, pulling the door softly shut behind him.
The only sound he heard after that were the grunts and harshly whispered numbers coming from outside the window hovering above his head, the lightly colored curtains decorating its frame fluttering gently in a soft breeze that flitted through the open space.
Gritting his teeth, he struggled to sit up again, mainly to test just how badly injured he was, and fell back with drawn out, muffled groan as said injuries rebuked against his movements and began to burn like hot coals being pressed into them
He stared at the flawless, white ceiling, his breathing coming out in harsh pants as he tried to block out the needle-like jabbing sensations that were having a free day in his body.

'Wonderful,' he sneered. 'Once again, I'm forced into the care and company of these low-life, disgusting vermin.'

He slowly closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, draining out all tension in his body and mind, and a slow smirk slither onto his pale lips.

'But . . . I guess I'll just have to show them, once again, that I am the superior being and I that I do not want nor need their pathetic help.'
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Blue Skies of Eden