The pen truly hadn't been worth stealing from the start.

Though, that didn't stop the albino nor did it make it any less entertaining. A small ghost of a smile was painted onto the amused expression of Xerxes Break, who now cautiously stalked down the halls of the Nightray house. Such trained footsteps stepped with such ease and poise that they were quite nearly rhythmic as they noiselessly passed through the hall. He was careful not to run into any maids as he strolled, for his visit was anything but welcome or solicited. In his pocket lay a smooth writing utensil - a pen belonging to none other than a certain useless, ebony-haired teen.

The man couldn't see anything extraordinary about the pen nor could he see what made it worth the fuss the boy always made about it. From his previous observations, the albino concluded that it was very obviously treasured to the boy, who would always keep it sealed in elegant wooden box on a high shelf when not in use. It was a pen that Gilbert had even denied his very own drain rat of a brother the privilege to touch, let alone use. The boy's behaviors in accordance to the pen naturally peaked a slight interest in Break, for it could potentially be used as a weakness. Though, a whim also told the man that there was something else and that the pen may run deeper then it appeared. It was that distortion between perception and truth that naturally interested the male. Perhaps it was that slight curiosity that spurred the hatter to do what he did.

A single red eye scanned through the vacant corridor before making a vigilant turn into the adjacent hallway, now pacing toward the same wooden door he'd entered prior. When Break had initially entered Gilbert's room, the boy hadn't been present - likely occupied reading at the library or perhaps training in self-defense and basic arms as was necessary when belonging to a noble dukedom. It made for a rather boring entry and left the male quite disappointed in the outcome of events. He'd hoped to get the opportunity to rile up the boy, perhaps evoke a reaction great enough to imply the true appeal of the 'precious' pen.

Break wasn't sure what made him go through the extra trouble of staying and waiting for the young noirette.

Soft footsteps that could only belong to the small-framed teen echoed through the silent hallway and the man took his position at the end of the hall and out of view from those entering the corridor. He was certain that no one else was in the room so knew he had found his opportunity - an opportunity that he was more than ready to take advantage of as he stealthily snuck behind the boy. Gilbert quietly slipped into the room before letting out a muffled squeal at the intruding body that had slipped in behind him. The albino held the shorter boy's mouth firmly, effectively muffling his sound of alarm and shutting the door behind them soundlessly with an amused grin.

"Mister Break?" The alarm was heavily evident in Gilbert's slightly raised, wavering voice as he made eye contact with his intruder. A short chuckle in affirmation was all the boy received in response to his horror. Wide honey eyes shining in childlike innocence and fear gave the man a questioning look. Having only made residence in the Nightray house a little over three months prior, Gilbert was far from accustomed to anything remotely close to Break's antics.

"What are you doing here?" A breathy sigh escaped the boy's lips with a grimace, reflecting the fact that he was still obviously shaken.

"Ah, Gilbert, how rude? I came to visit my precious left eye, of course~"

"How did you even get in?" Gilbert retorted incredulously to the man's coo, posture straightening and already growing wary with the utter flamboyance lacing his tone.

"A real gentleman never tells~" Break practically sang, watching the teen grow disgruntled with scrunched eyes brows and the line of the boy's lips settling into a nearly disbelieving strained pout of a frown. "You're being a very rude brat considering I came here with a gift. How very ungrateful you are..."

At the albino's trailing off, Gilbert gave the man a questioning look.

"Yes, a present. Now, if you want the present, first you have to copy these directions for the location of next week's meeting. Get paper... Unless you think you can remember it, of course."

Gilbert frowned in response, growing considerably annoyed at the taller male's amusement. With a sigh, the boy reached to pick up a packet of stationary from across his desk along with his ink pen from atop his shelf...

The pen wasn't present.

A blank stare displaced Gilbert's annoyed but otherwise stoic expression with a bubbling panic. The teen repeated his search for the object, growing frantic when it was not on his desk or either of the other shelves. Shaky hands ran their fingers over the same spot on the shelf over and over again. His breath began to hitch as he repeated looking over the same shelf over and over again where he already knew it wasn't present.

This could not be happening. Gilbert knew very well - no, for a fact - but couldn't help but consider the possibility that he had misplaced it. Though, deep down, he knew otherwise. He would never misplace it - not that specific pen. Not the pen given to him by him. Not the pen given to him by the precious light that he'd lost to Abyss. Tears lined the edges of the noirette's eyes, gold shimmering slightly before he was interrupted in his panic.

Break had practically sang the boy's name multiple times until he caught his attention with the simple use of a shortened form of his name.

"Oh, Gil~"

Gilbert looked up to the nickname, frowning prominently with an expression so strained and so shaky that he looked like he was on the verge of bursting into tears. That shorthand to his name hadn't been uttered for the few months he'd spent since he moved to the Nightray house and since that very fateful rainy day that left his life in shreds. That name only belonged to the lips of few people and the name echoed painfully with a ring at the sound of it being used once more.

Break only watched curiously. Gilbert's emotions were running so clear on his face that the hatter internally wondered how someone so openly emotional could survive in the real world.

"Gil~" He repeated, stretching the name into two deliberate syllables. "What's wrong? Are you perhaps missing something?"

With that cue, the albino unsheathed the item in question from his pocket and promptly waved the pen in front of the teary boy. Honey orbs followed the object curiously before widening, a slight relief apparent in the way he emitted a sigh as he identified it. At the revelation, the teen yelped, grumbled, and instantly tried to reach for it. Short, unsteady arms dove straight down to the hand in which Break held it but the albino swiftly lifted it above his head and out of reach at the last moment.

"Give it back now, Break!" Gilbert's tone seethed in anger and utter emotion, his voice cracking at the end. The teen frantically kept reaching for the object placed high above possible to reach for his height. Unintelligible, grumbled spouts of what the hatter interpreted as gibberish escaped the teen as he continued struggling nonetheless.

"Break, this isn't funny! Give it back!" Gilbert continued angrily poring pleas to the male while pelting the man's chest as he tried to reach. Break simply stood unfazed through it with poorly hidden amusement and curiosity. The man's stance didn't waver in the slightest to the boy's squirming and pushing and a small chuckle escaped his lips when the teen nearly tripped while trying so desperately to reach the very thing so unattainable at that moment. As unattainable as a teenage boy trapped in Abyss...

However, it was then when the hatter finally made eye contact with the boy that he realized he'd hit a sore spot in his curiosity, maybe even went too far. Several tears had spilled from the teen's eyes as he struggled and the angry and frustrated expression once present had now stripped completely to something much more raw and vulnerable. Tear-shot eyes glistening in moisture looked so perceptively hollow and despairing that the man finally handed the boy the pen right then and there.

That expression. Break couldn't help but remember when that expression mirrored his own all those years back. He remembered well when those same grief-stricken eyes grew so prominently on the young Sinclair girl. It suddenly all became clear to him and Break at last understood the full meaning of the pen, no words necessary. He froze, simply listening to his own breath and the younger boy sniffle quietly. Any amusement present was wiped cleanly off his expression to settle in a stoic expression before reaching to awkwardly pat the teen's head, unsure of how to comfort him. A silence enveloped the room.

"This should serve as a lesson." Break finally spoke, shattering the almost unnerving silence between the two and paused and watched Gilbert look up. The hitching in the noirette's breath started to slow.

"All that is precious - guard it. If it is out in the open, it can be snatched and used against you. Everything that is precious can be snatched at the blink of an eye. You can't keep what's precious to you out in the open. You can't leave your weaknesses exposed. Once something is lost, you can't always retrieve it back. You must always know what you wish to protect, Gilbert, otherwise you won't have anything to protect."

A crimson orb practically pierced golden in a solemn meeting of eyes. The two stared, only briefly, after having come to a mutual understanding. The air rung with the seriousness of the words along with a growing awareness. Gilbert had completely stopped sniffling but still frowned, eye brows knitting tightly and twitching as though the two brows would detonate if they met. The strained look of concentration vaguely resembled hope.

"Now, Gilbert, you must apply this. It could have been much worse. Had I been out to steal your life... Or worse - had I been a pen thief~"

Another sigh escaped the noirette. The atmosphere the Break had created now shattered back to reality, the male's voice losing its serious tone and returning back to its natural mocking cynicism. The man awkwardly lifted his hand from the boy's raven locks, hardly having noticed that he'd kept his hand dormant over the mat of the soft crown of the teen's scalp. Gilbert's scowl stayed in place and the two were back now - not trapped in their own distant timelines and brooding over what couldn't be changed. They both focused again on the present and future. Gilbert hardly noticed when Break told him that he had to be "taking his leave" nor did he notice when the man bid him adieu, far too lost in thought to register any of it. His movements were mechanical as he lethargically began replacing the paper and pen to their respective spots.

He didn't return the pen back to the shelf. No. Gilbert couldn't afford to lose anything precious anymore. The precious gift from his precious person - he needed to protect what was precious. If he couldn't protect a measly pen, then what hope did he have to protect him? Or to even get him back, for that matter? The pen would be a small start but he'd protect it without fail.

His master, his best friend… His light… He would get it back, maybe even find happiness and meaning again.

He had to.

x-x-x-x-x

The next morning, the hatter stood outside the Nightray estate with a slight smile, gazing through the window eyeing the empty shelf.

Perhaps the boy had hope after all.


[A/N: This idea has been in my head for a while now... I finally got to it. On another note, I'm almost done with the next chapter to Fog.

Fun Fact: The "a gentleman never tells" line just came to my head randomly and was done on a total whim. I started laughing when I thought of it and couldn't resist.