Blood. There was so much of it. The air hung thick with it, his feet slipped in it, his clothes soaked it up with every stumbled fall he took. Bodies were strewn everywhere, lifeless and bleeding. Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding...

It's your fault.

He covered his ears and shook his head violently, trying to drown out the voices, the mockery, the accusations. No. This wasn't his fault. This wasn't what he wanted. She'd made him do it. She'd told him it would save his brother. That it was for Gilbert...

Where was Gilbert?

Eyes glazed over, Vincent murmured his older brother's name under his breath as he staggered down the halls, one hand braced on the wall, the other outstretched and in search of what he needed. Who he needed. He didn't want to be alone; he couldn't be alone.

Where was his brother?

"Gilbert!"

It was hard to miss that sound, no matter what he was doing. No matter how distracted he was – whether by Elliot or by Break – his attention was stolen entirely by the echoing desperation of a call he'd heard all too often. Without a word of explanation, he turned on his heel and took off down the hall, heading straight for the panicked source.

It didn't take Gilbert long to find Vincent, slouched against a wall and trembling, muttering to himself with vacant eyes. His heart nearly stopped at the image, something in him terrified of seeing his brother in such a condition. There was a fleeting image of another hallway, different bodies, another time...But it was gone as soon as it had come. And he was too concerned with Vincent's well being to think on it.

Stepping forwards carefully, Gilbert held a hand out, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to weigh the severity of the situation. "Vince...?" He kept his voice soft, reassuring, knowing that his brother's fits could be dangerous. "Hey...Are you alright?"

The blond's head snapped up in recognition, dim hope lighting the otherwise shaken eyes. "Gil..." Vincent shuffled forwards, both arms outstretched, much like a child that had lost its mother.

The picture of child-like need his younger brother made nearly broke Gilbert's heart. He'd never seen Vincent this bad. He'd seen the other regress before, had seen Vincent slip into traumatic hysteria...but it had never shaken the blond this badly. He swallowed hard and closed the distance between them, folding Vincent protectively in his arms when his younger brother all but collapsed against him.

"Shh...Vince, it's alright. I'm right here." Gilbert whispered the words gently, moving one hand up to cup the back of Vincent's head. He'd had to do this before; he knew what his younger brother needed.

What he wasn't anticipating was just how far Vincent had fallen. Before he could get another word out, the blond knocked his legs out from under him, sending them sprawling on the floor and curling up against Gilbert's chest. "Don't leave me Gil. Never leave me. It wasn't my fault...I swear. I did it for you. All for you...I just wanted Gil to be happy..."

Gilbert flushed and shook his head, his hands curling instinctively against Vincent's back and scalp. "I-I'm fine...Whatever's wrong, it's fine now. I promise."

"So long as Gil is ok..." Vincent murmured the words into the crook of his older brother's neck, rubbing his hands over Gilbert's chest in small, needy, circles. "Gil is all that matters..."

The darker haired man's breath caught in his throat as one of Vincent's hands found a sensitive spot on his chest, the color in his face darkening a shade. "V-Vince, listen to me. I'm alright. I'm right here and I'm fine." His younger brother's behavior was starting to throw him off. Those long fingers were finding things they shouldn't have been and his body was all too happy to respond.

But once again, Vincent preempted Gilbert. Without warning, the younger man sat up, hands still curled tightly in the now rumpled fabric of his brother's shirt. "We need to go Gil...We can't stay here. It's dirty. Come with me please?" Those mismatched eyes looked at him pleadingly, Vincent still clearly not in his right mind.

"O-Ok..." Gilbert nodded carefully, having long ago learned to just humor his brother when things got this bad. "We'll go wherever you want."

The words had barely left his lips when he was hauled back onto his feet, Vincent all but dragging him down the hall. The sense of joy he could feel in his brother's grip was almost terrifying in comparison to the mess around them. It made Gilbert's skin crawl. Maybe if they got away from it all though...Maybe then he could talk some sense into Vincent. Maybe then he could help his brother grow up again.

Within a short time, Vincent had lead them to one of the many empty bedchambers of the manor, closing the door and shutting out the distant sounds of panic and despair. It was unnerving how sound proof the room seemed to be, the silence almost more oppressive than the mess going on outside. Gilbert could hear his blood pounding in his ears, the sound nearly deafening in its own way. An indescribable panic seized him, tightening his throat, leaving him unable to speak. A handicap that didn't go unnoticed.

"Gil...?" The blond turned carefully, the rustling of his clothing almost painfully loud, the clack of his heeled boots as he approached seeming to echo off of the high walls. "What's wrong Gil? Why are you so quiet?"

Gilbert shook his head, feeling suddenly cornered. He couldn't see anything, the door having sealed tightly, cutting off whatever light had been available to them, and it was a feeling he didn't like. He backed up slowly, hands groping against the wall behind him, trying to find something, anything, that he might be able to light the room with. "Vince...Why's it so dark here...?"

"So they can't get us," Vincent's voice purred from the dark, suddenly right next to Gilbert's ear. "No one can take you from me here, Gil. It's just you and I."

Opening his mouth to retort, the older Nightray was sufficiently silenced by his brother's tongue, his heart stopping in his chest as Vincent pressed up against him. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts again, his hands moving up to shove at his younger brother shortly. This...What the hell was that?

"Wh-What's gotten into you Vince? You can't just...just kiss me out of the blue...!" Gilbert huffed shortly and tried to fight some of the vibrant color in his face, glaring as best he could without being able to see.

Unfortunately, his tone didn't seem to put his brother off, Vincent's hands back on his body without hesitation. "I'm making sure Gil is here, with me. And always will be. You love me, don't you Gil?"

"W-Well...yeah. But you're my brother." Gilbert shook his head, locking his jaw and tugging at Vincent's wrists. "I...I love you in a very specific way."

His attempt was answered by a short, unimpressed, noise before Vincent stepped in again. "We're all we have, Gil. Do you really want to leave me...? Do you not want me here anymore...?"

Gilbert bit his lower lip. Vincent still wasn't all there. His brother was caught somewhere between their childhood and reality. And, no matter how uncomfortable he was, he couldn't leave the other like this. "N-No...I'm still here. I always will be."

"Because I'm your only brother. I'm all you have."

The undertone of hysteric questioning put Gilbert's nerves on edge. It was all he could do to nod, not trusting his mouth to say the right thing. Luckily, the gesture was all Vincent needed. His younger brother stepped in close, pinning him to the wall and nuzzling against his chest possessively. Those hands began to wander again, petting and stroking, feeling and memorizing. And once again, Gilbert found his heart skipping in his chest.

"You're all mine, Gil. Always mine. Only mine." Vincent purred the words past his brother's ear, pressing chaste kisses to Gilbert's cheek. "Because I need you. I'll always need you. I'll never leave you behind like everyone else will."

Gilbert cringed and bit his lip, trying not to let those words get to him. He didn't want to think about that, about how Break had been using him from the start, how Oz was drifting away from him to spend more time with Alice. He had very little to begin with...but Vincent had never left him. He let out a shaky breath, hands moving to curl resignedly against his brother's sides. He refused to admit he was scared, insisting – even to himself – that he was holding on strictly for the need to ground himself in the dark. And to help the blond through this.

Even as he found his mouth covered by his brother's, even as Vincent nudged a leg between his own, he clung to that excuse. As they sank to the floor, he repeated to himself that this was necessary, that there was no other way. As his clothes were picked out of the way, as his own fingers mirrored those same attentions, he told himself that this would fix everything, that it would change nothing in the end. One excuse after another raced through his mind with every shift of their bodies against one another, with every quiet gasp and moan.

He was just helping his little brother. He was just helping him grow up again...