It was the absolute dead of the night. Moonlight shone through a window to rest upon a raven-haired figure sitting on the sill. One leg dangled down, while the other bent at the knee and his arms wrapped loosely around it. He was fully-dressed, the only missing piece of his normal attire his hat.

His forehead rested on the cool glass of the window, golden eyes staring down at the road but not really seeing it. He let out a sigh, the hot air fogging up the glass for a split second before fading away again.

"It was nine years ago today," Gilbert said to himself.

Knock. Knock. Squeak.

"What are you still doing awake?" asked Break. "What are you doing in my room?" Gilbert retorted, though his voice had no venom; it only held tiredness.

Break made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. In one fluid motion, Gilbert stood up and faced the other man. Though Break was fully clothed, some things were missing from his normal appearance; his head and shoulder were bare of their usual occupants, the hat and the talking doll.

The moonlight streaming through the window dyed his skin, hair, and clothing.

The two men stared at one another for a moment. Then, finally, Gilbert cracked. He let out a shaky breath, reached up, and ran his hand through his hair. Break took a small half-step toward him, then hesitated.

They stood there for a moment longer, one struggling not to cry and the other trying to suppress his urge to wrap the other in his arms.

"When?" asked Gilbert, golden eyes squeezed shut. Break's visible eye widened slightly; he had never heard the other man sound so… weak.

"When what?" he replied with a question. Gilbert's eyes flew open and he took two steps forward. Break stared into his golden orbs.

"You said we could bring Master Oz back. When?" the last word was barely choked out. Gilbert's raven hair was falling into his face, covering his eyes, and his fists were clenched to keep them from shaking.

"I don't know." Break's voice was barely a whisper. The silver-haired man took a step forward. Their chests were practically touching. He brought up a hand and gently tipped Gilbert's chin toward his face. Golden eyes met a single ruby one again.

"I have a question for you." He breathed, the air fluttering across the raven's face.

"What?" Gilbert replied, cringing away from the contact. Break wouldn't have that; he discreetly brought up his other arm to wrap around the other's back.

"Whatever happened," he began, leaning in closer and resting his forehead against Gilbert's, "to 'Out of sight, out of mind,'?"

And then they were kissing, mouths touching ever so slightly. It was enough for the respective tastes of their lips to mingle. The sweetness of Break's candy complimented the tobacco of Raven's cigarettes perfectly.

After a few moments, they broke apart. Break's eye drifted open (it had shut at some point) to find that Gilbert's eyes were shut as well. They slowly peeled open. For a moment, they searched each other's faces. Break's broke into a small and rather sad smile.

A second later, the molten gold of the raven's eyes took on a strange, steely glint. He unwound his hands from around Break's neck (when had they gotten there?) and shoved him away.

"That… That doesn't apply here." He said coldly, turning away. Behind him, Break's face fell. One of his hands was stretched out like he was going to try to bring Gilbert back into his embrace.

After a moment, he let his hand fall.

Swish (he turns around)

Click. Click. Click. (His boots hit the floor)

Squeak. (The door opens)

Slam. (And shuts)

Gilbert walks to the window. His breath mists the glass again as he whispers, "I'm sorry…"

Because love is not some

VICTORY MARCH

It's a

COLD

And it's a

BROKEN

HALLELUJAH.