Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts.

Prologue

"Gilbert-kun!"

Was someone calling for him? It was so distant sounding. He couldn't be sure with the church bells ringing all around him, and the soothing warmth that was gripping him tight.

His vision blurred, but he thought there might have been someone rushing towards him.

He felt it when he was dragged downwards through something, but he couldn't be bothered to find out what or why. Only now it was too quiet. It left him feeling numb in the strangest of ways.

Wind rushed past his ears. A great darkness billowed past him leaving him chilled to his core. He was falling like a shooting star across the night sky. There weren't any stars here, though. He didn't shine as a star did either. That light surely belonged solely to—

Floating teacups and devilish laughter.

"Oh, how did you get here? You haven't done anything to be here." A pause. "I know, I'll do you a favor. I'll send you back!"

What? The voice was familiar, but he couldn't focus his vision at all. He knew there was something bright in front of him, though.

And then he was falling again.

A heavy groan tore its way from his throat, and he shut his eyes determinedly; the morning sun was much too bright today. Hadn't he closed the blinds last night?

Gilbert's muscles were incredibly sore and cramped. His head throbbed with a constant pain, and the persistent sunlight wasn't helping. The last time he remembered feeling this fatigued was right after contracting with Raven.

It didn't help that he seemed to have fallen out of bed. He was lying on what he could only presume was his floor. He'd never realized how uncomfortable it was; it was digging into his back, and smelled earthy. Gilbert inhaled deeply, ignoring how his ribs protested against such a thing. Were floors supposed to smell like that? He was positive his was made out of wood, not soil. Maybe Break had snuck in and added a few plants or something, Gilbert decided. It sounded like the kind of superfluous thing Break would do. He'd probably explain it away as Gilbert needing something to distract him from moping.

Gilbert let out another groan, this one out of irritation. If there were plants in his apartment that meant Break was probably still there, sitting in his living room, waiting for Gilbert to get up and make him coffee. Break didn't visit often, but when he did he made sure to harass Gilbert as much as possible for food. It was strange Break hadn't waked him yet, though. He wasn't exactly known for his patience.

A cool wind brushed against Gilbert's resting form. Had he left the window open, too? He scrunched his brow in consternation. Just what had he been doing last night? He never forgot these kinds of things considering the danger surrounding his day to day existence. This neglect was practically unforgivable unless, of course, Break had come in through the window. This wasn't entirely unlikely, but Gilbert found it difficult to believe. Break far preferred to come in through the closet or some previously unknown nook and cranny.

A clip-clop sounded in the distance. It was definitely unwelcome as it was taking his migraine to phenomenal heights. Worst of all it seemed to be approaching him. Gilbert's brain considered this for a second before deciding there was no way he'd been so neglectful of his apartment's safety he'd allowed a horse entry.

The horse was now right next to him if the pause a few feet away was any hint. Gilbert reluctantly peeled his eyelids open, and found himself staring into the clearest blue sky he had ever seen. His jumbled thoughts tried out a few solutions to this very strange puzzle. He didn't like the thought, but it seemed apparent he was outside. Gilbert refused to even consider a Chain lifting his roof right off without him noticing.

With some difficulty due to his aching muscles, another puzzle he would have to solve no doubt, he lifted himself into a sitting position, and took in the sights.

He appeared to be on the side of a heavily used dirt road in the middle of thick woodland. If Gilbert hadn't been consumed by a sudden panic he probably would have found it beautiful. As it was he could barely restrain himself from crying out in disbelief. It was dawning on him something was very wrong. Break couldn't plant an entire forest in his home no matter how much it might have amused the man.

Trying to regain some of his composure he focused his gaze on his visitor. It was, indeed, a horse, a chestnut mare to be precise. A man was dismounting it. Gilbert couldn't make out his features as his back was turned to him, but he seemed to have a slight physique, and he wore a black cape with a tall collar. Gilbert also noted with some apprehension he carried a sword at his hip.

When he turned to face him Gilbert couldn't help himself; he let out a high-pitched squeak. Without even realizing it, he had scuttled backwards until he was stopped by the thick trunk of a tree.

The man in question wasn't particularly intimidating, though he had a stern look plastered on his fair features.

"It's illegal to loiter on public roads," he announced curtly, looking at Gilbert with obvious dismay. Gilbert almost said it was also illegal to break into someone's house with a horse, but he stopped himself when he realized that probably wouldn't be taken well, nor would it make any sense.

"I'm sorry?" Gilbert managed to stutter out. He found himself incapable of saying anything more than that he was so caught up in the man's visage. He had long, silver hair tied loosely at the base of his neck, and he stood with his arms crossed. But his most striking feature, the one that shocked Gilbert to his core, were his glittering ruby eyes.

He looked like Break.

The man's frown deepened at this reply. "Where are you headed?"

That was a good question. Gilbert wasn't even sure how he got here much less if he had any destination.

"I'm not sure," he said quietly. Gilbert's head was pounding heavily with a constant tempo, and his muscles were getting more cramped the longer he sat.

The man considered this answer for a moment. He seemed to reach a conclusion; he approached Gilbert, and kneeled next to him.

"Are you injured?" he asked, this time with less severity. "If you were mugged you should make a report."

Even his voice sounded like Break's, albeit with a more serious, less cheerful timbre. Gilbert couldn't find a proper reply to his question; he was far too distracted by this strange person in front of him, and his even stranger circumstances.

The man seemed to grow impatient with Gilbert's silence as he took it upon himself to start prodding Gilbert's head in search of injuries. Gilbert let out a pained huff when he found a particularly painful spot. When he drew his hands back there were a few drops of red.

He studied this for a moment. "You will come with me," he declared as he stood. He offered a hand to Gilbert. Knowing there was no way he could stand without a little assistance, Gilbert accepted. His bones creaked as he stood in a disconcerting way; he really hoped whatever was wrong with him wasn't permanent.

As they approached his horse Gilbert wondered if there was any way he wouldn't fall off of it; he was already leaning heavily on Break's lookalike as it was. The man seemed to have thought of this as well. He paused in front of his mare with a calculating look on his face.

"If I help you up, do you think you could hang on long enough for me to get on?"

Gilbert replied in the affirmative even though he felt anything but confident. It didn't help that the man was giving him a rather doubtful look.

Somehow they managed to get him on with only a minimal amount of awkwardness. The man promptly mounted his horse behind Gilbert once he seemed to be in little danger of falling. The man reached around Gilbert, picked up the reigns, and urged his horse into a gentle trot.

There was no way Gilbert was going to last this journey with his dignity intact. In fact, it had already taken quite a beating. He felt incredibly nauseous, the movement of the horse under him did not help, and he was swaying slightly.

"It might help if you lean back," his mysterious companion suggested. Gilbert wanted to protest, but eventually gave in. He all but collapsed against him. If Oz or Break ever saw him leaning against someone like this the teasing would never end. Gilbert's face flushed in mortification at the very thought of it.

"What's your name?"

"Gilbert."

"Just Gilbert?" he asked nonchalantly.

He barely stopped himself from giving out his surname. He had no idea what the situation was; he couldn't give that information freely.

"Just Gilbert," he finally said. "What about you?" he continued, resolutely looking forward.

"I'm Kevin Regnard." Gilbert's heart stopped. "I'm a knight of the Sinclair."

Gilbert turned to face his companion in stunned disbelief.

Sunlight shone off of his silver hair brightly, and his red eyes held a subtle warmth even though he wasn't smiling. Gilbert would have said something, but their conversation came to a resounding halt when he fell into a dead faint. He distantly heard Kevin shout at him as he fell off the horse. He wondered why it sounded familiar.

Author's Notes:

This takes place somewhere after chapter 31, and I'm going to consider it an alternate timeline for the sake of storytelling. This will be a little bit of a character study, especially about the differences between Kevin and Break.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a review with your thoughts.