Chapter Text
Knives grimaces into the mirror, and sticks out his tongue at his reflection. He looks pinched and paler than ever, up early on a Saturday morning in summer, but at least his illegal tongue piercing is essentially healed, now. He made Vash promise not to tell, and could only secure a very reluctant, 'just as long as it doesn't get infected!' And while Vash is annoying as shit, he is a man of his word.
They're both already packed, there really isn't much for Knives to do except wash his face, brush his teeth, sweep his short hair back, and go downstairs for his usual, gentle, argument with his family about not eating breakfast. The thought of it always fucking nauseates him, whatever Vash and Rem say about it being the most important meal of the day.
At least, no matter how sappy Vash gets, Rem knows that she is not their mother, that they have no mother, and not to push it. Because Rem has taken them on, at no benefit to herself, and is gentle and caring and makes Vash happy and tries to feed them well, Knives takes a banana for the bus ride. It supposed to be a solid two and a half hours, he might even want the stupid thing.
It had been three years ago that Knives and his brother had come to live with Rem permanently, five years ago that they had first met her. Somewhere in there Vash had really started wanting to go the Hopewell residential summer program, probably the closest kids like them will ever get to camp, but it's only now that they're sixteen, pretty much too old for it, that Rem and everyone on their stupid fucking 'care team' have deemed them stable enough to go. And Knives is going with as little complaint as possible, because he knows that if it was just Vash, he probably would have been deemed stable enough three years ago.
Because Vash is a nice boy, and doesn't fly off the handle and mutilate his brother on the belief that imperfect things are less loved and he will therefore be allowed to keep them. Knives may not spend a lot of time sniveling, but he is never going to stop feeling bad about all the scars he has put on Vash. Hell, he would be locked up somewhere right now, if not for Vash's begging not to be parted from him and Rem's assurances that she could keep them both safe. And she has, and because of that and because this is what Vash wants, Knives is going to Summer Camp For The Criminally Insane And Their Stupid Siblings. Great.
And of course Vash blubbers when they say goodbye to Rem, and then he's way too excited to talk to everyone else on the bus, and it's hot out and there's no AC and Knives is already greasy with sunscreen and just kill him now, honestly. He stares out the window and ignores everyone, while Vash chatters away, and forms what will no doubt be a strong rapport with one of the camp staff (orderlies but slightly more fun, as far as Knives is concerned) who are riding along, some banal creature named Luida. He does eat the stupid fucking banana, by the time they finally reach their destination, and thankfully, Luida stops Vash from eating the peel. He's mostly done being a human garbage disposal, they get regular meals now, but sometimes under excitement or stress, the old habit rears its ugly head.
At least Hopewell has enough forest to provide shade, and the promise of a lake, even if that's going to come with about eight million mosquitoes. It makes the bus less of a prison hot-box, and the building they're all herded into does have proper climate control. Knives doesn't know much about how things are done for normal kids, but here there are some additional precautions against theft, along with a higher ratio of qualified staff instead of minimum-wage college kids, and a workshop first thing about consent, to make sure none of the little deviants molest each other, and drive the insurance premiums up.
At least the management have the common courtesy to offer a break for refreshment, before that. After a quick head-count and a brief greeting statement, there's time to use the restrooms, and access to water, juice, and some granola bars and bags and chips. Knives sips water, while Vash vacuums up some of everything. This stuff is done one busload at a time, and isn't the worst of its kind. It's far from the first consent workshop Knives and Vash have attended since their... well, Knives does have to concede that it was a rescue, these days, but the word always leaves a bad taste in his mouth, because it's for dogs and victims. At least they get a sticker after this one. Vash's is cinnamon-sugar scratch 'n' sniff, and says DONUT GIVE UP, of course. Knives is just pleased to have the option of a simple and tasteful flower for his Activities And Scheduling folder.
Now it's time for a tour of the campus, kept carefully accessible, so a few kids in electric wheelchairs can roll along the paths and boardwalks along with everyone else. Knives is never one to assume that one body part or system not working means any other doesn't, but he can tell that some have higher support needs than others. Monev, according to his nametag, just kind of stares around at things, an attendant walking beside him, while Hopperd zips around independently like a go-kart, and Legato just putters alongside the group, pale, nearly-yellow eyes watching the world through his fringe with an expression that makes Knives feel like maybe, just maybe, this is someone he can talk to.