Title: Trust/Bond (1/2)
Long Summary: While training at Pandora, Break tells Gil that he has to learn how to expose himself completely in order to attract the Raven. So he turns to the only person he trusts to help: his brother Vincent. T for dark themes.
Characters: Gilbert's PoV. Gilbert, Break (with Emily!), Vincent, Reim with mentions of the Raven, Sharon, Lord Barma
Pairings / Warnings: Implied past Oz/Gil, one-sided Break/Gil (if you squint), one-sided Vincent/Gil, psychological torment in later chapters.
Note: Side story to "Wait for Sleep" but can be read as a stand-alone. I wanted to fit this in somehow, but it detracted from the main storyline of WfS too much.
Besides, I wanted to challenge myself by writing something that'd be totally be a kink-fest in any other circumstance but have it instead turn into…. something else (Mwahaha)
Timeline-wise, Gil is seventeen and Vincent is sixteen; both of them are in-training at Pandora a few months before they contract their Chains.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. Jun Mochizuki and Square Enix do.
Trust/Bond
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"Chains try to understand whether the human suits them. If they bind him with their power, it does not necessarily mean he's deserving…It look me quite a long time, though. I had to expose myself completely." ~Gilbert Nightray, Pandora Hearts: Retrace XLV
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Chapter 1
Gilbert blamed Break. It was so easy, doing that.
"Stop laughing!" Gilbert exclaimed, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. He tugged at the chains that bound his hands above his head. They were connected securely to the heating pipes that ran along the ceiling of this side room in Pandora, leaving him no option but to stand there and be miserable. "What kind of exercise is this?"
Across the room, Break lounged on a divan eating a slice of cake. "I'm being perfectly serious, Gilbert," he said in a sing-song voice.
"Then tell Emily to shut up!"
The doll bounced on Break's shoulder, squealing in joy. She tumbled off of Break's shoulder, giggling. Break scooped her up with his free hand and plopped her on her customary place. "Tsk-tsk-tsk," he said. "We mustn't embarrass Gil further, or he won't learn anything from this."
"What I'm learning is that you're a pervert!"
"This is supposed to put you in a certain mindset," Break explained. His boot heels tapped rather loudly as he crossed the marble floor, holding the plate on one hand. Stopping in front of him, Break tapped Gilbert playfully on the nose with the back of his fork. "The Raven is a master at watching and at control."
Gilbert expected Break to do something especially discomforting just to provoke him, and steeled himself as the older man leaned in. He tensed, visibly, as Break tilted his head less than a handspan away from his face. "You've got your guard up, Gilbert. That's not what the Raven is looking for."
Too close… Gilbert always had a thing about personal bubbles and a dislike for people who constantly broke them. Dealing with Vincent at the manor was bad enough.
Break's breath smelled of strawberries and his red eye glinted mischievously. "According to what we know of the Chain, the Raven isn't interested in anyone who comes in aiming for a fight. It notices you when you're at your most exposed."
His other hand touched the front of Gilbert's waistcoat, slipping his fingers into his front pocket. After a second of shock, Gil reacted, throwing a knee up at Break's chin. The older contractor easily dodged, sidestepping three inches out of the way of Gilbert's touch. Break tittered behind a drooping sleeve. "You've got a strong flight response, you know that?"
"I know, fight or flight, and my defensive tactics are terrible," he muttered. "Even if this solves that, Break, you're still a perv."
Flight responses have been something Gil had to overcome since day one. He never ran, but he'd twitch and hesitate as soon as his opponent got near enough to strike. That split second withdrawal was enough. Instead of standing firm being "one with the weapon" – or whatever enlightened catchphrase Break threw at him – he'd retract, and that was the opening that left him vulnerable to attack.
"Flying's not a sign of cowardice. It's a survival trait." Break sat down, cross-legged in front of Gil. "Ever thought of it that way?"
He gathered the remaining frosting from the plate until it created a creamy mound in the center of the dish. "Have you ever asked yourself," he said, scooping up the sweet clod with his fork, "What have you been running away from for so long?" He slipped the utensil between his lips and Gil blinked, trying not to think of the innuendo.
But his mentor certainly did. Grinning, he ran his tongue over the tongs as he drew of the fork before placing it carefully on the dish. Gilbert, who was already embarrassed at this set of circumstances, only blushed harder and glanced away. "So it's not bad to have, but it's bad to let it go unexamined."
"But what does this have to do with the Raven?"
"Why, everything." Break wiped his mouth on a handkerchief. "The Raven wants to know your deepest self, but how can he, if you don't want to show it? That's the Chain's price. They all have one."
Gilbert thought it over as he watched Break warily from his position on the floor. That man was too infuriating, and his trainer absolutely knew how Gilbert felt. Nevertheless, Break usually had a point, and that was what made Gil furious most of all. "What did the Mad Hatter ask of you?"
"Wild, unadulterated sex," squeaked Emily. Break slapped the doll and smiled. "Now, now, Emily, don't frighten Gilbert," he scolded, smirking at the sudden blanching of Gilbert's face as the iron links rattled above. "Most Chains never ask for anything physical from their contractors other than blood."
He stroked Emily on the head. "Whatever the Chain asks you to reveal is between the two of you. That doesn't always happen. Most contractors walk out of the Doorway never realizing the price they paid for their contract."
"So it's not like you gave it your sanity?" Gilbert ventured. As soon as he said that, Gilbert realized that he might as well be right.
Break stabbed a stray crumb with his fork and slipped it into his mouth.
Emily chirped, "Break got me."
"Huh?" Gilbert blinked. After three years of working with Break, Emily was taken as a given. No one at Pandora was exactly sure what to make of her: either Break was a master ventriloquist, or that doll was a devil in disguise. There was an increasingly productive betting pool going around the hallways of Pandora over it.
Break gave a crooked smile. "Maybe if you're around when I throw Emily's next birthday party, I can tell you all about her," he said mysteriously. "Til then, though-" He rose to his feet, leaving the dish behind. "Ta-ta!"
That thing has a birthday? Gil had known Break for almost three years and never once was that mentioned.
"Birthday party? You never throw me anything, jerk!" Emily exclaimed as she pummeled the side of Break's head.
Break laughed, and for some reason, there was a ring of sadness to it that Gil couldn't understand.
That moment of sympathy hit Gil for only a second until he realized Break left him chained to the heating pipes.
"Break!"
"Your front pocket," he replied. Gil glanced down and sure enough, when Break had groped him, it was to leave the brass key tucked next to his watch. "Now work on your escape tactics," Break grinned, closing the door behind him.
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Eventually, Reim found him (thank gods not Sharon, or worse – Lord Barma; Gilbert would've never been able to live that down). The senior officer apologetically fished the key from Gil's front pocket and soundly cursed out Break for his eccentricities. "Should I, uh… return these to him?" Reim asked, somewhat sheepishly, as Gilbert rubbed the feeling back into his wrists.
For whatever reason, what Break said made actual sense. "No," Gil replied. "I need them for practice."
Reim arched an eyebrow, and Gilbert hunched his shoulders. "That stupid clown," he growled, taking the cloth bag containing the chains and stomping out of the room.
For the rest of the week, however, the chains remained untouched in the corner of his closet as Gilbert thought about what it meant to be exposed. He'd felt that many times before, if that meant humiliation, pain, or vulnerability – living at the Nightray manor and working daily with Xerxes Break was proof enough.
But, in all consideration, perhaps to be exposed didn't mean whatever connotations everyone jumped to first.
"Gilbert looks distant tonight," Vincent commented over dinner a few days later. "What's he thinking about?"
They ate alone in the kitchen; the usual routine whenever they returned late from Pandora. That day, for Gilbert had stayed until Vincent finished his debriefing meeting with the researchers after his latest trip. Gilbert knew eating where servants did was supposed to be another underhanded slight from Lady Nightray about their diminished status in the house, but Gil preferred it this way.
"Break mentioned the other day how I keep my guard up too much to attract the Raven's attention. I need to become more 'exposed' he said."
Instantly, Vincent gripped his sleeve from across the wooden table. "The Mad Hatter didn't do anything nasty to you, did he?"
"No," Gilbert shook his arm off. "Besides damaging my pride. Nothing special." For a brother who was so clingy, he got very concerned over the people Gil spent time with, particularly Break and Sharon. Gil didn't understand why, since Vincent was training alongside him most of the time and knew them both well.
"That clown doesn't know his place." Vincent stabbed his knife against the scarred table surface, making Gilbert jump at the sound. "We should practice together more, brother." He had been away often these past few months, conducting obscure Chain research under the Duke's orders.
"Meow."
At the sound, Gilbert's fork clattered and he nearly fell off the stool.
The cook's cat ducked from out of the corner and raced across the room. Gilbert huddled on the stool hugging his knees with white knuckles until the beast left. "S-stupid cat," Gil stuttered. "I told the cook to keep it out of the kitchen."
His heart raced in his chest and Gilbert took a few moments to relax again once it was gone. Vincent remained silent as Gilbert gathered himself together.
As his heartbeat settled, Gilbert realized something. Perhaps, it was fear that the Raven needed. To be fully exposed is to be afraid, mindlessly so. Because didn't fear render people at their most vulnerable?
Across the table, Vincent frowned. "I don't like these games the Mad Hatter plays," he said. "One day he'll hurt you."
"No, I trust him not to." Gil thought of bring the chains to Pandora on Monday, and asking Break to run the exercise again. Then, he imagined that taunting smile crossing his mentor's face and shuddered. No, once with him was enough. For all that talk about seriousness, the notion of breaking down in front of him would be too much. And in Pandora too – once his co-workers found out, Gil would never live it down. No, he didn't trust Break that much.
In the dim lamplight, Gil noticed a soft expression of concern on his brother's face. A thought struck him. Vincent would never hurt him, right? He had always listened to him, as the older brother, certainly, and knew he wouldn't reduce his pain to a cheap office joke.
"Vincent," he asked, slowly. Carefully. "Do you trust me?"
"Absolutely."
"Do you, um,… want to try this…?" He gestured with a vague wave of his knife in the air, unable to get the words out. What a ridiculous notion! His brother, willing to put him through this…
Vincent smiled gently. "Anything for Gilbert."
A/N: Oh, this took a lot of restraint on my part not to make this a Break/Gil smut-fest. Ah well, maybe next time…. ^_~
