It's like an Eternity, isn't it?
"Hey, Gil—"
He is running.
That's not really anything new, except this time he's running with, not away, and there is someone ahead who is not there now.
"If you don't hurry up we're leaving you behind! Right, Ada?"
"Young master, please wait—" he finds himself saying, a high voice that is so foreign in his ears that he wonders if he even spoke at all. "—Miss Kate will get mad!"
There is laughter. "Her? I can handle her!"
"It's me she'll take it out on, Young master…"
"That is true, isn't it?" a pause. And then: "Well! Are you coming or not, Gil?"
"That's…" he sighs, but he follows without another complaint, and even if he's annoyed and nagging or saying 'Young Master, don't stain your clothes so easily!', he is smiling and he is happy.
It is a dream, he concludes when he wakes up in the middle of the night, because he is happy and happiness was a long time ago.
His hands are stained and it is not with mud from that day.
--
"You are quite vocal when you sleep," Break tells him in the morning when he steps down the stairs. Break's master is there, sipping her tea, carefully and elegantly, and she does not look up for anything. "Being hit with waves of nostalgia, are you?"
He walks. "It's… It's nothing."
The young girl chides at the older man, telling him to stop teasing. She places the cup down on its saucer and she glances up to stare at him. "—It won't be long."
It's been two years. He is not used to their company, because Break is not a happy boy with blond hair and green eyes, and Sharon is not his little sister.
--
They are running in the yard. They are running from the maids. Oz is holding Ada and his hand in his own, and he is laughing while Gil tells him they should really stop fooling around.
There is calling from behind them, 'Young masters' and 'Young Lady' and 'You! Boy!' as they try to get them to stop, but they keep running. Running and running and running, and they do not stop, even when Gilbert trips and falls and is overtaken by black wings.
--
"You've been spending more time with Ms. Reinsworth, Brother." Snip.
He doesn't respond. There is more snipping. Snip snip snip snip snip until he's going crazy. There is a knowing tone in the voice, and Gilbert can't quite fathom why. "–Does Brother have a crush? I wonder what you and her talk about, you're quite familiar–"
"Vincent."
"Yes, Gil?"
He doesn't tell him not to use that name, because he knows he won't mess them up. "Can you give me that?" and he is referring to the doll in Vincent's hands.
A last snip. There is an ear on the ground, along with a hand, and the tail of a rabbit. He hands it over without question.
"I'm going to mend it," he says, as if someone asked him what he was going to do.
Vincent brightens up at that. "Ah– Like old times!"
For Gilbert, old times did not involve snipped dolls and mismatched eyes, and the only things he would really mend were his master's ripped clothes when he was silly enough to go on his little adventures and did not want the maids to know, which was often. He didn't tell Vincent this, because he always seemed to get upset when he mentioned blondes with green eyes, though he did not know why.
Vincent does not mention the crush again. That stuff is only interesting when one is young and restless, anyway.
--
"Do you like Ada, Gil?"
"I– Young Master, that's not an appropriate–!"
"Ah, what a boring response," he sighs, running a hand through his hair in irritation. "Well! Does Gil like me?"
"Young Mas-!"
"I'm kidding, Gil! Really, you take everything so seriously…"
--
"I don't know how to use a gun."
"You need Raven, don't you?" Vincent asks. He is holding a gun in his hands. "You don't need to do much, Brother. It's very quick," and then he offers it.
Gilbert is certain what he needs to do with those words. He does not know why he hesitates to take the gun, still, or why his hands are shaking.
"Who–"
"He's an illegal contractor," there's a smile. "Think of it as a mercy killing, Brother. It's that or falling into the abyss."
"I don't know how to use a gun," he tells him again.
"It's simple," Vincent puts two fingers up to his temple, as if to shoot himself, staring at Gilbert through all of it. He makes a motion then, as if he had pulled the trigger, and whispers a quite audible 'bang' under his breath–and then he smiles again. "That's all."
Gilbert doesn't get how it's simple. He doesn't get how the boy can just talk of death as if it's nothing, but he holds the weapon like Vincent demonstrated and holds his breath. It is cold.
--
I killed a man, Young Master, Gilbert confesses at his bedside that night.
He is shaking and sweating, knelt over the bed as if he had been the one killed. He rushes to the bathroom to be sick, and falls unto the floor, remembering the way the body had churned and then dropped dead, and vacant eyes that had stared at him, blood on the carpet, on the floor, on his hands–
I–! Killed a man, Young Master. I hope you will forgive me.
--
The sun is up, and they are lying on the grass. Oz is humming. Gilbert is worried that the maids will come scampering by soon.
"You seem anxious, Gil," Oz tells him, turning to face the younger servant, and the other wants to say something because he might stain his clothes and then Miss Kate would lecture him even more.
"It's just– Young Master…" he trails off, and doesn't voice his troubles.
Oz does not give him a chance to pick up his thoughts. "Well! Gil can leave if he wants. They can't blame you if you didn't know where I was."
Ah. That hurt tone. "No, Young Master, it's not–!"
He smiles. "I know, Gil. Let's just sit here a bit more."
Gilbert complies.
And wakes up.
--
Gilbert obtains Raven on top a mountain of corpses, and he changes his name. Break and Sharon 'respect' his alias, and Vincent still calls him brother, Gil, Gilbert, in that loving tone of his. He takes up smoking too, while he's at it.
No one laughs, or calls him an idiot.
--
"Gil is Gil, isn't he?" Oz says, quite sure. He can't finish this without teasing. "Though really, you make so much mistakes…"
--
"It won't be long. Raven," she adds in quietly, in an almost amused tone that is so noticeable in her girlish voice.
"The Lady is just as guilty as I am of teasing." Break is rolling a wrapped candy on his lips with a finger.
They have not aged, just like the Oz in his mind. It has been eight years.
--
He is reading by the window, as always. He looks content just sitting there, flipping idly through pages, as if it is just him and the book and no one else but that in the world.
Gilbert does not want to interrupt that peace, but Oz notices him and puts down the book, smiling at him. "Gil," he says, and beckons him closer.
"Yes, Young Master?"
"What do you think of happiness, Gil?" Oz asks easily, flipping to the next page. It seems to be the only book that he enjoys without question.
"That's a random question, Young Master…"
"Yes, well, that's not an answer."
Gilbert looks to his feet. "I… don't know, Young Master."
"That won't do, really," he places the book on his lap. "Well, here's an easier one. Are you happy, Gil?"
"Of course I am!"
"Let's go outside," he commands quickly, standing up and dumping Holy Knight on the chair he had sat on. He walks past Gilbert, looking over his shoulder to say, quite sincerely: "Then I am happy as wel–
--
He wonders if Oz would be happy now.
--
"My, we're so close," Break announces spectacularly, sitting beside him on the bench. He crosses his legs. "It won't be long," he assures, in a repeat of Sharon's words from recently, and long ago.
Gilbert looks away.
"You do a lot for that master, don't you?" It is a rhetorical question, and Gilbert takes it as such. "It's a little like obsession, don't you think?"
--
"I don't really believe in forever," Oz mutters, but lets Gilbert make that promise anyway, and its like a lifeline, sort of. "–but fine," and he is blushing.
--
–of course Break wouldn't understand.
--
"Your visits are very infrequent, Brother," Vincent tells him, and of course he wouldn't understand either. "Is he really that important?"
It doesn't matter, Gilbert thinks, because he almost has Oz back.
--
"You remind me somewhat of Edgar, Gil. He would do a lot for his master," he mutters, waving the closed Holy Knight volume in front of his face. "A very loyal servant… How much would you do for me, I wonder," he asks this as a joke.
Gilbert answers to it automatically, completely sure of his response. "Anything, of course, Young Master!"
He laughs at his eager response. "I know, Gil."
