All right! New fic! Let's give me a round of applause.

*crickets*

Okay then!

I have this weird way of writing so that the POV's will kind of just slide into each other depending on when I need them to. This chapter starts as Gilbert's and then goes over to Alice.

I don't own Pandora Hearts. But I'm pretty sure Gil is technically Lord Nightray now. Weird, right? And all his adopted siblings were so pissed 'cause Raven wanted him instead of them . . . good thing they aren't still alive to see this.

Not that he'd ever act on it. Gil is truly a servant at heart. And since Oz isn't technically a Vessalius, he and Gilbert should just leave the running of the Dukedoms to their younger siblings and go and live in Gil's apartment together, and everyone else can just suck it.

All right, Alice can stay in the guest room.

But since I don't like Sharon, and everyone else I do like is dead, they can all suck it.

Once more, singing this time. ~Suuuck iiiit!~

Lots of Gil and Alice family feels in this chapter! And of course, some not so subtle ozbert hints.

Gilbert ex-Nightray (could he still be considered an adopted Nightray if all the blood family was dead?) now Baskerville, was nothing if not a man of his word, which was why, after much whining from the stupid rabbit and worrying from his precious master rabbit, he could be found in the tiny kitchen in his apartment stirring Alice's favorite meat filled stew with his right hand and quite enjoying the fact that his left was no longer in existence.

It had actually been pretty easy to get the hang of cooking one handed. It was simply a matter of not being able to pour and stir at the same time, and that just meant the meal would take a little longer than usual. Truly, any discomfort or inconvenience was overshadowed with the sheer reality that he could never again hurt Oz, and this simple fact filled him with joy and a certain kind of tenderness every time he looked into his master's concerned face and he was reminded.

True to their word, both Oz and Alice were attempting to help without destroying anything. Well, more like Alice hung on Raven's apron and watched greedily as he stirred the meaty stew until it was thick enough, while Oz read aloud the recipe and scurried around fetching ingredients. Gilbert thought it was cute how determined his master was to help him. There was still some part of him that was uncomfortable with the young master helping him instead of the other way around, but it made Oz's face light up with a very real smile every time Gilbert asked him to pass a knife or stir the stew while he adjusted the temperature, and that made it all worth it. Oz had even insisted on tying Gilbert's hair back, and Oz's fingers on his scalp had felt so good that he had stopped protesting very quickly. Oz seemed to like being needed, and God knows Gilbert knew that feeling, and he would give his master anything he desired, anything at all.

The unwieldy trio had already completed the monumental feat of getting Oz's favorite cake (chocolate and vanilla marble; he could never decide which was better, so Gilbert would always indulge him with both) into the oven without any major disasters. There had been a terrifying moment when Alice had become a little too excited at being given the job of choosing which meat to put in the stew and had nearly knocked Oz into the open oven like the witch in the gingerbread house. Gilbert only just managed to pull him out of the way, and then spent a good twenty minutes yelling at her and forbidding either of them to come within three feet of the hot oven and stove.

Oz was still tucked protectively into the space at Gilbert's left side, where Gil thought he fit rather nicely, as he scolded Alice and she screamed that he was letting the stew burn. Oz laughed quietly into Gilbert's apron, but his hand trembled lightly as it clung on to the stiff fabric and Gil didn't let him go until he was sure he wasn't hurt.

"I'm okay Gil, really," Oz insisted, ducking his head to hide his burning cheeks. "Ah, why don't I go and ask Break and Sharon what kind of frosting they want?" Oz dashed away before Gilbert could protest, and it was with some frustration that he turned back to the stew.

Alice chewed absently on the ties of Raven's apron. She replayed what had just happened in her head, remembering the boy's ridiculous facial expressions whenever they got to close. Humans had a funny way of reacting whenever they got uncomfortable – their faces would get all red and they would have this stupid look on their face. Raven especially didn't seem to like anything that made Oz have a bad expression. She remembered how angry he had gotten when she had tried to bring up parents . . . which reminded her.

"Heh, Wavuh?" she mumbled. He frowned and tugged the strings out of her mouth. "What?"

"You remember everything now, right? About before?"

"Yeah," said Raven slowly, looking down at her curiously. "Why?"

"Do you remember your parents?"

"Vaguely."

"Now . . . now that you remember, do you have an answer?"

"An answer to what? I don't even understand what you're trying to ask me."

Alice huffed, upset that he wasn't following her train of thought. "When I asked you what parents were like. When I asked you if . . . if parents were the ones who gave you life . . . if they were the ones who gave you the reason for your existence. And then you got mad at me for wanting to ask Oz because you didn't know!"

Raven didn't answer immediately, and Alice fidgeted uncomfortably. She was sure her face had one of those weird human expressions, and she didn't want to let Raven see it, or see his face if he was angry. Like, really angry. Like, throw away the stew just to spite her angry. She was hungry.

But Raven still wasn't saying anything, and she so snapped and glared up at him fiercely. He was frowning, but he didn't look angry, and he wasn't looking at her. Alice growled and tugged impatiently on his apron.

"Well?"

Finally he looked at her, and he was making an expression that was a little confused, and a little something that she didn't recognize.

"Don't you remember your parents now too?" he asked. Alice blinked. Then she glared harder. Raven wasn't answering her question properly, and it was getting annoying.

"I remember Levi. He came to visit sometimes. Oswald came more, and then Jack came. I don't remember Lacie." But I get a warm feeling in my chest when I hear her song, that has nothing to do with Jack. "You aren't answering the question!"

"I don't remember my parents that much, stupid rabbit. I remember Jack and Glen, and Lord Oscar most of all. They were more like parents then the people who gave birth to me."

"So . . ." Alice struggled to understand. "Parents don't have to be the ones who give life to you in the first place?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"But that just makes it more confusing!" she yelled. Tears of frustration were threatening to fall, and she wiped at them furiously. She wanted to know what parents were like, whether she had any, whether they could help her figure out what to do. Her memories had returned, but the questions were still there, and now she didn't have any goal in mind to look forward too. She had said that she would stay with Oz and help him, but that didn't seem to be helping her at all. Somehow they had gotten all mixed up. It used to be that Oz would help her and Raven would help Oz, but now she was helping Oz and he was helping Raven, but Raven was still helping Oz, and no one was helping her!

"Alice."

Alice barely registered the use of her real name before Raven shoved a tissue in her face.

"Blow," he commanded. She blew her nose and sniffed feebly as he wiped tears and snot from her face.

"Honestly Alice, there's no reason to get so upset," sighed Raven. "It doesn't matter who gave you life. Parents – real parents – are the people who help you find the reason for your existence, just like friends do. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Glen and Oscar and Levi and Jack and all the people who helped us, and those people are your real parents, all right?"

"Yes," she hiccupped. "But . . . but now they're all gone, and . . ." And I'm lonely.

"Yeah," Raven sighed. "I know."

Alice sniffed loudly and wiped her face on Raven's apron. He grimaced, but didn't say anything.

"Here." He waved the spoon in front of her face. "Taste."

Alice did not need to be told twice. She had not been able to choose just one meat, so there was some pork, some beef, chicken, and even some duck, mixed in thickly with cream, papery spices, leeks, carrots and chunks of potato. Raven had thought it would be funny to make her chop the carrots, but he had regretted it when Oz got offended and Alice had tried to chop the carrots using her scythe.

The stew was salty and delicious, and Alice felt a little hole in the bottom of her stomach fill with something warm and delicious as she tasted Raven's cooking for the first time in what felt like forever.

"It needs more meat." Raven rolled his eyes, but let her add some bits of breakfast sausage and diced onions.

There was another minute or two of silence, and then Alice thought of something else.

"Do parents help the same way you and Oz helped me find my memories?" That had been her goal for quite a while, but finding the reason for her existence had been her real purpose. Come to think of it, Oz had been trying to figure out the same thing . . . But Raven had never seemed to have that problem. Maybe he already knew?

Raven's face was turning red again.

"I don't . . . Not exactly . . . I mean, friends can help too . . . That's not to say . . ." blustered Raven. "I have no idea what I'm trying to say."

But Alice wasn't listening, her mind racing ahead. She opened her mouth again to ask exactly what reason Oscar, Jack and Glen had helped him find, but Oz chose that moment to reappear, and Raven turned away from her.

"Sharon wants vanilla frosting," announced Oz. "But Break wants chocolate. Maybe we could have marble frosting too?" He looked at Gilbert hopefully, and Raven smiled back at him so warmly, Alice thought his face might melt off.

"Of course," he said. He could never deny the boy what he wanted.

Irritated at the sudden lack of people paying attention to her, and at the stupid, sappy expressions Oz and Raven wore when they looked at each other, Alice growled and bit Raven's hand, making him yelp.

"What the hell! Stupid rabbit!"

Alice growled at him again, and stubbornly shoved his hand on top of her head. Oz was laughing again, and Raven looked torn between smiling at Oz's happiness and being angry with Alice. They both spent the next ten minutes coaxing her to let go of Gilbert's hand, but it was worth it, because for ten minutes she felt cozy and warm in the midst of all their attention.

Later, Gilbert swirled the chocolate and vanilla frosting while Oz held the bowl and Alice watched curiously. She wanted to taste the frosting like she had the stew, and Gilbert was prepared to refuse wholeheartedly, but then Oz pressed up into the empty space at his left side, looking up at him with big green eyes and Gil's hand moved of its own accord to offer the spoon.

Watching them with her face covered in frosting, Alice felt confused all over again.

Thank you for reading and reviewing! You did review, right? Right? Right!? RIGHT!? Psh.