Chapter Text
One moment, he was ordering the Guns to protect their Master by finally ending the life of the one who stands in his way--the one who nearly killed him in July, who abandoned him, who is undeserving of the words on their Master's tongue--and the next he was seeing his foot from an angle he had never considered. The pain is nothing compared to the reality that Knives had decided that he was no longer useful.
"Who gave you the authority to kill him, you worthless vermin ?"
That presence between Master Knives and I…
He loses consciousness as Vash screams for Knives to stop. Someone struggles to drag him away from behind. Memories from life before his savior allowed him to follow are brought to mind. He doesn't even have it in him to cry.
Legato thinks he may have heard voices as he flitted between the void and consciousness.
"Can you fix him?" Knives .
"It's a miracle he's even alive. His spine is…"
Legato doesn't need to hear more. He allows himself rest.
The dirt in the air stings his lungs as the lack of water is finally realized. He swallows dryly. When was the last time they had seen a town? Does Knives know? Is he struggling as well? No, of course not.
Legato's breathing-- his wheezing, really-- makes him take pause. A short break won't help him, but it also gives him the chance to swallow what's left of his flask. It's enough to wet his mouth to only taste the dirt and not breathe it in.
The frowning child by the name of Elendira hasn't said anything about any discomfort. In fact, she had been at Knives' heels. It would be in poor spirit of their newfound competition for Knives' approval to let her be the one to hold out longer in asking to visit a settlement. And yet--
He pants softly, swaying, "Master, wait!"
The dirt poofs into the air as he sprints to catch up. Elendira gives him a dirty look at the noise.
Knives' expression is severe as always when he's in thought but when he finally looks at him, he smiles. It's dazzling. It feels like home.
Legato can't let himself be left behind. Never.
"Legato."
Legato's eyes flutter open at the sound of his name. He feels… off.
"Legato?" Knives' voice is softer.
"I'm awake, Master Knives." Legato's voice comes out in a rasp, so unlike his usual smooth cadence. He stares at the ceiling.
Everything rushes back. His Master's disappointment in him. I'm no different to any other disgusting human.
Knives is silent for so long that Legato thinks he might have left before he speaks again, "Get up. Look at me."
His body won't obey him. He can't even feel it. The best he can do is move his head, searching for Knives in his peripheral. He can't find him and he settles his head back in defeat.
"So Conrad was right… You can't move on your own anymore." Knives sounds almost apologetic. Almost.
Legato stays silent, absorbing the information. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. His wire mechanism whirs quietly, unnoticeable unless you know to listen for it. He feels Knives' body and his lips turn up at the ends. "My wires. They function without the use of my limbs."
Knives isn't in view, but Legato can see his face in his mind as he hears his laugh. " That's what you're concerned about?"
He hears his footsteps. And then his face is in view. His hair hangs down low, touching Legato's face as he leans over him. His eyes have the crinkle in the corner that Legato finds most familiar. He sounds like he's about to cry, even as he laughs in exasperation, "You're unable to move anything but your head, your body betraying you even when I ordered you up, and you're concerned about your silly little wires?"
"It means I can still serve you," Legato replies softly, trying to parse out what Knives could be thinking, "I won't be a failure."
Knives' smile drops and he just stares at Legato. The expression reminds him of the first time they met. He still can't figure out what it means, even all this time later.
"Master…?"
Knives frowns, eyes searching Legato's face for something he can't seem to find. He just sighs and moves out of view. Legato desperately tries to watch him move, but his head feels so heavy.
He sees more than feels himself as he falls off the table. He groans softly as he hits the ground, not wanting to trouble Knives with more clatter.
Knives is by his side faster than he expects. He's lifted up and placed back on the table with ease.
Almost like when he used to…
"I'm putting you back under. No more squirming until you give yourself a concussion."
He doesn't argue, thinking it best to simply stay silent this time.
Legato thinks he hears Knives speak again before the drugs finally take away his senses. His voice sounds kind, soft. Whispered words under the stars about a childhood over a century ago come to mind.
"My Bluesummers… what am I going to do with you?"