-Pandora Hearts-
The Scape Goat that escaped.
Pairing: Gilbert X Oz, hinted Eliot x Leo, One-sided Alice x Oz.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Heart's or its respective characters.
-Pandora Hearts-
1.
Meet the Facade of Innocence.
When the dark comes rolling in, the children march along to play.
Merrily singing, merrily singing, "Blow them all away."
A scent as potent as death slithered along the crumbling stone walls of an alleyway, the bleak gray skies of a foul morning blanketing the vacant streets in a hushed whisper of promised rainfall. It was here, in the rugged, barren, streets of Sablier, that the lost came out to dance among the living, ghosts of the past running amuck in the world suddenly bathed with clouds. Those were the streets that any form of intelligent of life would avoid, knowing that to be tossed out into its clutches most certainly meant death. Whether it be quick or prolonged, it didn't matter, death was inevitably unavoidable—for the rich didn't cater to the less fortunate. And the less fortunate didn't hesitate to take what they could in times of desperation.
That's why when a crippled, grimy, man came limping from the black shadows of the alley, a pair of gold eyes watched impassively, not making a move to help the starved man.
"Help me…" The man's voice pebbled out like grains of gravel to no one, just as the sky above broke, splotches of water falling to stain the pavement below in steady, misplaced, drops.
A frown formed on the lips of the observer, pity welling in his chest as the gray haired man fell to his knees in the middle of the path, his matted gray hair tumbling over his shoulders in tangled waves, blood and dirt caked in the otherwise lightly colored locks. He watched as the elderly man croaked for help once more, blindly reaching for a simple act of human kindness.
Temptation.
It was entirely too tempting to throw open the door to his little-barely large enough for one person—home and aid the fallen man in his time of need. What he wouldn't give to be able to put an end to that miserable man's pleas for help. But he couldn't, he just could not risk everything he fought so hard for. Albeit, it wasn't much, but it was all he had. This little home, a sanctuary, in the sea of poverty was enough for him to fortify his resolve to stay hidden in the safety of his window, peering out at the man from behind the glass.
"Please!" The man's cries grew louder as the drizzle outside erupted into a full blown assault of pelting droplets, the scenery outside suddenly nothing but streaks of water and blurred colors. The water soaked the poor man's clothes, making the torn cloth stick to his thin frame, outlining his ghastly sunken in flesh. Starvation and sickness riddled in the dips of the elder's brittle bones. With a slight tremble in slender, sallow, fingers, a cigarette is raised to thin, but pleasantly plump lips, then they're wrapping around the nicotine filled drug, the cancer stick lying flat between the male's teeth as a lighter clicks in the dull room. Soon, a bright flame is setting up the end of the cigarette to glow a brilliant shade of red, a tendril of smoke reaching toward the creaking ceiling.
He couldn't help-he reminded himself- no matter how much he wanted to. The memory of the last time he rushed out to help a person in need branded across his chest. A long diagonal scar, shaped over his flesh in biting cruelty and deception, hidden beneath his simple white button down shirt.
I can't risk it. Not when he's sick…
Breathing in… the man inhaled all he could to soothe his frazzled nerves.
But as he breathed in, he ended up blinking in surprise, his stare still pointed out the window.
Four red cloaked figures had appeared in the street amongst the fog that skittered over the ground, walking in a single line formation towards the center of town, step by step in the downpour, like the devil's assailants as they eerily glided over the path in silence.
He watched as they moved to pass the old man, not sparing the fellow a simple glance. And it was with wide eyes that he watched as the daring old man grabbed onto one of their cloaks for dear life, the dark ruby fabric clutched between shaking hands. The cloaked figure he had reached for in his delirious state was shorter than the rest of the group, a peek of silver, or perhaps lavender, locks flashing beneath the hood as the figure halted in its tracks.
And just like that, the man let go.
Breathing out… his mouth went slack in shock as a spray of crimson mixed with the rain.
A swipe of a sword slashing the man's throat burning into the gold irises as the oxygen he needed to breathe got stuck in his throat. The old man's body hitting the pavement in a lump while the group continued onward, vanishing like they had never even been there.
The pair of eyes had yet to return to their normal size, shock apparent in the hues of honey.
"It's okay, brother…you couldn't have helped him anyway." The hoarse voice sounded from behind him, just before a cough slipped out and two thin arms wrapped around his waist, a warm cheek pressing against his shoulder blades. The man didn't move, his body stiff, but after a few minutes, he relaxed, picking up the cigarette he didn't realize had dropped from his mouth to the window sill.
Silence reigned again, until the same hoarse voice broke it, "We'll be out of here soon enough, right, Gilbert?"
The dark haired man peered at his younger brother from over his shoulder, gold irises flashing with tangible sorrow as he turned his gaze back out to the downpour, his eyes falling on the silent body crumpled in a ball, alone and desperate in his final moments of life.
Gilbert closed his eyes, and Vincent never received a verbal answer.
His answer came in the subtle shaking of his older brother's shoulders.
The feelings of change upon the horizon.
A group of red cloaked figures stepped into an underground room of the Baskerville manor, the assembled group of four silent as they entered the room, one by one.
They were instantaneously greeted with a nod from the man sitting at his desk in the middle of the chilled room, the man's hands linked beneath his chin as he gave them a pleasant smile.
"I take it you've brought him here without any trouble?"
The shortest one of the group stepped forward, and with a sweep of her hood falling off her head, she spoke, a maniacal grin taking her lips, "None at all, but I have to admit, it would have been so much more fun if he would've put up a struggle."
The man at the desk wrinkled his brows, before he let out a simple puff of amusement, his chin leaning down to rest firmly on his hands. "All in good time, Zwei. Now, the rest of you leave, I wish to speak with our guest alone."
It took only a moment for them to filter out the room, leaving a ragged blonde standing alone in the place Zwei once stood. Immediately green eyes clashed with violet, and the white haired man smiled in amusement.
"I heard from a very reliable source that you've been wanting to speak with me. I must admit, it came as surprise…considering you went missing over a year ago." Levi stated in a perplexed tone before he unweaved his hands, leaning back in his chair.
"Indeed I did. Haha, it seems the duke of Vessalius got sick of seeing my face."
Such a strange existence.
Following the obedient boy's form with his eyes, he studied the way the seemingly carefree blonde managed to seem completely natural in the bland surroundings. Yet even so, he didn't stand out. His form just as muted as the space around them. The normally vibrant blonde locks of rich sunset mudded down with dirt. "It's been awhile, hasn't it? You look like a living corpse, Jack."
"Mm, it's nice to see you again too." Jack replied in a sunny, but sarcastic chime, the youth stepping forward to stand directly before Levi's desk.
Levi's violet hues glinted before he replied, "Not my fault you look like death, but what did you want to speak to me about, exactly?"
Jack brushed his bangs out his face with a flick of his wrist, "I've come with a proposition."
The previous Duke Baskerville leaned forward in interest, his rapidly decaying body cracking as he strained his limbs; interest apparent in his eyes.
"I want to help you regain what was stolen from you."
Shock coursed through his chest, but Levi quickly shielded it, "You mean to tell me…you want to help kill off your own flesh and blood?"
"That's a disturbing way to put it. I think it'd be better to say I just want to aid you in your act of justice." Jack muttered under his breath, but Levi's gaze never let up.
Narrowing his so far friendly stare into a glare, Levi asked, "Tell me, boy, why I should trust you?"
"Because I know the layout much better than you."
"That's hardly a reason to trust you, now is it? That's merely a reason to accept your request. But what is it you're seeking? I cannot fathom a single reason why a Vessalius would want to see their own family fail."
"It's pretty simple, really." The soft, melodically happy voice of Jack stated, his hand waving a tad as he explained, "I never thought of those people as my family. My loyalty is where my friends are, and I can't say I have any friends in that house. My friends are here, sir."
Immediately, Oswald came to mind. Tilting his head a tad, Levi let out a hearty chuckle, "By friends, you must be referring your beloved Lacie's older brother. I'm not sure if you've realized this or not yet, but that friend of yours is a very important man, as the current Duke, he hardly has time for you."
A strange expression flashed across Jack's face before he was all smiles again. "That doesn't make him any less my friend." He said sincerely, "Even if he were to forget me after all this, it'll be okay. I'd be happy just to be able to help him out this much."
Not a word was spoken in the stifling tension in the room for a good minute before Levi suddenly was having a large bout of laughter, and Jack was refraining from looking too idiotic.
"You really are an interesting kid, aren't you, Jack?" Levi uttered between his heaps of laughter, before he started shaking his head, a cool grin curling on his lips, "Very well, I'll accept your help in this little experiment of mine."
There was a brief second of confusion before relief pooled in Jack's eyes and he was propping himself on the man's desk. "Great, let's get started then. Before I do anything crazy, I'll need to make sure I get out of this unscathed."
Of course.
"Then how do you suppose we make that possible?" The white haired man inquired.
A venomously empty gaze locked with wickedly curious orbs, and Jack smiled.
"Have you ever met my brother?"
The soft melody of a song played in the air, to bounce from to note to note, in a fine carpeted bedroom in the Vessalius mansion. Each note struck with keen harmony in an organized song dubbed "Lacie" whilst a boy sat huddled in the room on a chair, a book nestled in his small digits and a pocket watch splayed across his lap.
The boy was the picture of beauty, a porcelain face with soft curves dipped down to read the content in his hands, and bright softly aglow emeralds for eyes that fluttered back and forth beneath light eyelashes.
His name was Oz Vessalius.
And he was currently reading a book his Uncle had got him for his Birthday last year, a soft sway to his head as he read along to the tune of the gold piece in his lap.
Oz's deep emerald gaze glossed over the one line that stood out to him in the black bound book, his lips parting in a soft murmur as he read the words across the page aloud,
"When the dark comes rolling in, the children march along to play. Merrily singing, merrily singing, blow them all way."
Oz stared down at the book, a strange feeling churning in his stomach before he glanced at the rain hitting his window. He watched as the water spread across the glass to distort the images outside, and he ended up pulling his bottom lip between his pearly white teeth in a soft nibble.
"Blow them all away?" He muttered, lost in his ponderings. While he continued to trail his gaze after the rivulets appearing on the glass.
Not even paying attention when his pocket watch stopped playing and the girl asleep on the loveseat of his room stirred, her brows knitting in her sleep.
"Oz…?" Alice murmured in her sleep, but Oz continued to look outside.
The melody resumed.
A/N: As this is my first ever Pandora Heart's Fic, I've probably royally screwed this up in one way or another. Either way, from what I've seen of this fandom on FF, there aren't many people who review for this franchise, so I'm not expecting much, but to those of you that will review/give me feedback, it's greatly appreciated-even if it's just telling me it sucks. X'D I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, but I kinda suck at updating any sooner than a few weeks, forewarning.