Another chapter! Sorry for the delay, I was meant to post this last week _ I know it's strange… I can't wait to actually get to the shipping scenes :) And Gilbert's past, as horrible as that sounds ^_^;

Thanks again to my reviewers: webtail, TukkT, WhiteGamma, Pomatos, TotalAlias, li ross, Suimomo, YakuKikyo, Orcux, milktune, WendigoGirl, and Princess Himeko! You're all the best, and you're support is greatly appreciated, thank you! ^_^ I'm really glad that people are enjoying this one :)

So, without further ado, here is Chapter 3! ^_^

O-O-O

Chapter 3

O-O-O

It turned out that Eliot's enraged lecturing, combined with angry customers, ringing phones, and whiney co-workers, was exactly what Gilbert needed to get his head straight. It was hard to space out or dwell on any one thought for too long when people were talking at him (not to him) left, right and centre, pushing his concerns about his friend away and replacing them with the immediate, if not trivial, problems of others. Really, it was incredible the amount of people who were too lazy to read the troubleshoot guide.

It didn't stop him from spacing out during the lull in work, however. Nor did it stop him sending over a dozen texts to Oscar throughout the day looking for an update, but that wasn't too bad, was it?

By the end of the day Gilbert felt like his brain was going to melt, but the moment he stepped out the front door of the building he felt a refreshing wave of relief wash over him, welcoming the light drizzle of rain that coated his skin after spending so many hours inside. His head certainly felt a lot clearer than it had the previous night… Clear enough for him to realize how insensitive he had been to Ada.

He frowned, pulling off his tie and throwing it in his backpack before slinging the bag over his shoulder. "I'm such an idiot," he thought as he opened his umbrella and began to make his way to the bus stop just down the street. Ada was probably worried sick about both her brother and him, and he had been so wrapped up in his own feelings he hadn't even thought to ask her how she felt about the entire situation. He got off a few stops before his own and went shopping, then made his way to the Vessalius house in order to make dinner for the young woman. It was quite a weak way to apologize, he had to admit, but Ada appeared positively ecstatic about it.

"Oh, that would be lovely!" she said as she opened the door fully so that he could step inside, "I haven't tasted your cooking in such a long time, Gil!"

"It's nothing special," he said, embarrassed by her enthusiasm, as he made his way towards the kitchen.

"Well, I think it is," Ada giggled as she followed him, "You're a great cook, Gilbert! No matter what you make, you somehow make it better than everyone else. Even something like hard-boiled eggs taste better when you make them!"

Gilbert blushed, "Ada, that's-" She was seriously exaggerating… But before he could say as much, the girl had hoisted herself up onto the counter and begun quizzing him about his day, what they were eating, and so on, keeping him company while he worked.

Dinner was relatively quiet, but it was not uncomfortable. As usual, Ada was the one who did most of the talking, mainly because the pair were avoiding the one topic of conversation that Gilbert was actually good at (not that it didn't drift towards Oz in the end; it was sort of inevitable). He wanted to ask her how she was doing, to tell her that he would be there for her when she needed someone to lean on, and that he understood how she felt… but he could hardly talk about his own feelings without falling apart, so how was he supposed to comfort someone else? How was he supposed to help her organize her emotions when she was the one that seemed to keep him together most of the time?

If it was about anything else, maybe he could help. But when it came to Oz…

"You're going to the hospital?" Ada asked with a slight frown, "But… we're not allowed to see him, remember?"

Gilbert mentally kicked himself when he saw the sadness in his friend's eyes, feeling far worse when he realized he had probably been ignoring that very same look the night before. "I know that… I'm not going to go in or anything, I just…" he looked down at his food and shuffled somewhat awkwardly, "I don't know, it's like I need to be there. If I don't go, I think I'd-" He shut his mouth tight, reconsidering the rest of his statement, but judging by the look on Ada's face she had already guessed what he had been going to say.

"I understand," she said, offering him a sad but encouraging smile, "You've been going there every day. I guess it would feel weird if you didn't, huh?"

"Yeah…"

"Can I come, too?"

Gilbert blinked and looked up, surprised, "If… If you want to. Are you sure?"

"Of course!" the blonde girl beamed, piercing a piece of meat with her fork and holding it near her mouth, "He's my big brother, after all. If there's anything I can do to help, I want to be there for him."

Gilbert could not help but smile as she returned to eating, nodding and thanking her quietly. When they finally did arrive at the hospital just over an hour later Oscar was clearly displeased, but he did not send them away. For that Gilbert was thankful, and even though being this close to Oz upset him, he knew it had to be far better than sitting at home doing nothing but wondering and worrying. Since there were no chairs nearby, he and Ada sat on the floor just outside Oz's room while Oscar went inside, chatting quietly and only falling silent when they heard a noise from inside.

Gilbert had thought things were going well… But it seemed that hearing Oz struggling to speak had shocked Ada, and the poor girl had quickly excused herself, saying that she needed the bathroom. When she returned, smiling and apologizing for running away, Gilbert took one look at her reddened eyes and felt his heart sting with guilt.

"Come here…" he whispered from where he sat, raising his left arm up towards the girl and making a small, beckoning motion with his hand. She appeared uncertain, even a little afraid, but she sat back down next to him and allowed the dark-haired man to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. A moment later she lay her head on his shoulder, before shuffling sideways and burying her face in his jacket, clutching the front of his shirt with her right hand. He rubbed her arm in a soothing manner as she cried quietly, resting his head on hers and humming a quiet tune. It was one that Oz had always sung when Ada was upset or he thought he was alone, one that had loved even though he would never admit it, claiming he only sang it for his sister. 'Lacie', was it? Gil had long forgotten the words, but he had often hummed the melody to Ada over the years. It made him feel closer to Oz, and it reminded Ada of the strong, protective presence of her big brother, helping and comforting them both in moments of darkness or heartache.

"What happened?"

Gilbert jumped slightly at the sound of Oscar's voice, turning his head to gaze up at the man who was closing the door behind him, his mouth set into a worried frown. "O-Oh," Gilbert stuttered, his attention returning to Ada, "We…"

In response, Ada merely shook her head and pulled away from him, drying her eyes and mumbling something about not being strong enough. "I-It's nothing uncle…" she said in a slightly louder voice, refusing to look up until she was certain she was somewhat respectable, smiling weakly, "I just miss Oz, that's all."

Oscar, who Gilbert had sensed was ready to give the young man an earful for upsetting his niece, visible sobered at the girl's words. He sighed and shook his head before stepping forward and extending a hand downward to Ada. "Come on, let's go home," he said, "Visiting hours are over, and Oz will be asleep for the rest of the night, so there's no reason to stay here at the moment." Gilbert didn't miss the pointed look Oscar shot in his direction as he spoke.

But a thought had just occurred to him, the excitement it encouraged overpowering the doubt that he should have felt.

"Can…" the dark-haired man began as he pushed himself to his feet after Oscar had wrapped a comforting arm around Ada and begun moving down the corridor towards the front door. He paused when Gilbert spoke, looking backwards, and the young man glanced awkwardly at Oz's door. "Can I… I mean, since he's asleep, can I-?"

"Gilbert," Oscar said sternly, his tone warning. Normally, Gilbert would shrink away when the man sounded like that, but he hardly felt that his request was unreasonable, so this time he stood his ground.

"Just for a minute," he said, "I just want to see him and then I'll go, I promise."

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Oscar replied, frowning when Gilbert visibly deflated. Not again...

"Uncle…" Gilbert heard Ada whisper, shaking her head softly when Oscar appeared as though he were about to protest further. He appeared conflicted when he looked down at her, but then he huffed and pointed over his shoulder with his spare hand.

"One minute, and this is the only time," he said, "After this, you wait until the doctor says you can go in. Alright?"

"Of course, thank you," Gilbert breathed, relieved, turning around and gripping the door handle eagerly when the elder man merely turned his attention to Ada, giving her the keys to his car and telling her to go and wait for him. Gilbert didn't wait for the man to finish; he pushed the handle down, stepped into Oz's room, and moved as quickly and quietly as he could to his friend's bedside.

With the lights out, it was difficult to see Oz until he was rather close, the dim moonlight leaking through the partially drawn curtains settling a beam of light across the middle of Oz's bed, just barely illuminating the boy's features. It was enough for Gilbert, though… And in that single moment, every remnant of his usual mask that he had managed to recreate throughout the day instantly crumbled.

It was stupid… he couldn't have been apart from Oz for more than twenty-four hours, and yet the sight of his friend filled Gilbert with an overwhelming sense of relief, as if, subconsciously, he had been afraid the blonde would have disappeared since he had last set eyes on him. Maybe it was because they had been so suddenly separated, or perhaps it was just a lingering sense of fear from the last time. Maybe Gilbert was just an idiot for having such strong feelings about anything and everything that related to Oz.

Whatever the reason, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders the moment his eyes found his friend's face, a smile forming on his lips and his hand reaching out to gently lay upon Oz's. So warm… He was always so warm, but now… It could have been Gilbert's imagination, but Oz already looked better, maybe even healthier, though he knew very little could have possibly changed in less than a day.

He was vaguely aware of another presence in the room – Oscar – but he found that he didn't care. Knowing that Oz's current condition meant his sleep was too deep to be easily disturbed, Gilbert gently slipped his hand beneath the blonde's and held it lightly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Part of him wanted Oz to wake up and see him, while another was relieved that he didn't.

He only had a minute… He had to explain… He had to apologize...

"Oz, I…" he whispered, but quickly closed his mouth, uncertain. It still felt strange… He still felt conscious about what he was saying and doing, but not because there was someone else in the room to witness his actions. If Oz could see him now, what would he say? 'It's not like I can hear you, stuuu-pid!' The words rung so clear in his mind, he wondered if the boy had said it to him before.

He cleared his throat and leaned down a little, keeping his voice low and still holding Oz's hand in his own. "Oz…" he started again, swallowing the lump in his throat, "I'm… I'm sorry I haven't been here. I know I said I would be by your side, but… The doctors say it would be best if we…" Uncertainty and guilt forced him to stop for a moment. He had promised… He said he would be by his side and would help him get through this, but now he couldn't do so without risking Oz's health. He breathed shakily, tightening his hold on the blonde's hand.

If he squeezed it hard enough, maybe Oz would wake up.

His grip loosened a little, his body tensing, ready to run (to stay), if the boy began to awaken… but he didn't. He did not know if what he felt was relief or disappointment. "It's for the best," he breathed, "but I... I'll still visit you. And the minute you're well enough, I'll be right back by your side in a heartbeat. I promise…" He nodded, as if the act would help convince his sleeping friend of his words, and again his grip tightened slightly around the blonde's hand. Just a little tighter…

"Gilbert, let's go."

It was a command, not a request… And as much as he wished he could, Gilbert was in no position to oppose Oscar's words, since he shouldn't have been in the room in the first place. "Alright…" he whispered, but he did not move right away, suddenly gripped by that same, irrational fear that this could be the last time he would ever see his friend. It actually took the elder Vessalius several minutes to convince him to release Oz's hand and leave the room, walking directly behind him to make sure that the Nightray would not change his mind and try to stay. Gilbert looked back over his shoulder as he made his way towards the door, his heart aching with a sense of longing with each step that took him further away from his friend. When the door suddenly closed, completely removing Oz from his line of sight, Gilbert felt as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach, breath catching in his throat at the abruptness of the act.

"Gilbert…"

"Sorry…" he muttered, turning his head so that he was facing forward, his back to Oscar. He blinked when he felt the man place a hand on top of his head, pushing down slightly on his dark locks in a short of play-shove before falling to his shoulder, with Oscar stepping forward so that his arm was around Gilbert's shoulder.

"You don't need to apologize," he said with an encouraging grin, "I know this isn't easy for you, and I really appreciate what you're doing for him."

Gilbert frowned, automatically falling into step when Oscar began to move forward with the young man by his side. "I'm not doing anything, though…" Which was why Gilbert felt so terrible right now…

"Not true," Oscar said, "You're giving him space and time to heal, which is exactly what he needs right now."

"I suppose…"

"Make sure you take care of yourself as well, alright?"

"I will…"

As the two men made their way down the corridor in silence, Oscar began to think about their current situation. It seemed that letting Gilbert in to see Oz may not have been a good idea… Then again, everything felt upside-down and wrong way round whenever Gilbert got like this. "He's going back to how he was all those years ago," he thought with a quick glance sideways, worried for Gilbert not only for his own sake, but for Oz, too.

The boy would be heartbroken if he knew how much Gilbert had changed after the accident… When the doctors couldn't help him, Oscar had hoped that Gilbert would just heal with time, that he would eventually lose some of his connection to Oz and be able to move on and live his own life. When he started working things appeared to improve, and slowly but surely, Gilbert had seemed to get better, to return to something that at least resembled his old self and begin to grow…

But that was all a front, one that was dropped in moments of weakness. The truth was that no matter how things looked on the outside, Gilbert had never moved on. No matter how happy he seemed with his life, the very fact that he had made it his priority to visit Oz on a daily basis was a sign that he was not content. In many ways, Gilbert was still a child, scared and lonely and certain that the entire world would fall apart if his best friend did not recover and return to his side.

And there was nothing they could do for him. He had stopped going to his sessions years ago, and he refused to take his medicine. His mood swings were less frequent, but Oscar was not naive; he knew that many of the days that Gilbert called in sick had simply been because he was incapable of pulling himself out of bed with the oppressive weight of depression on his mind. Oscar had suffered it himself for a time, back when he really thought he had lost his nephew, and he knew that there was very little anyone else could say or do that could pull someone out of their own darkness. He had pulled though, but Gilbert had never really escaped from it, because he had never faced his demons and accepted them for what they were.

Oz was the only one who could save Gilbert… If it were even possible at this point. Maybe the man was far too broken to ever fully recover, but if anyone could aid him in the process, Oz could, if only because he was the only one Gilbert would allow himself to be rescued by. There was no way that he was going to let the unstable Nightray near Oz until the young blonde was well enough to handle him, however. Oz had to focus on himself for now, not go out of his way for Gilbert like the elder Vessalius knew he would.

Gilbert did not return to the Vessalius household with them that night. Instead, he took the bus back to his street and went home to his apartment. He seemed to be in a better mood when they parted ways, but only because he had clearly made up his mind to continue coming to the hospital. Oscar tried to suggest that he reconsider, but he may as well have spoken to the wall for the effect it had on Gilbert.

"Do you think it's a bad idea?" Ada asked her uncle as the pair met in the kitchen for a late snack before going to bed. When Oscar gave her a questioning look she smiled, "Gilbert… You've been lost in thought since you came back."

That girl was far too perceptive; growing up with Oz and years of keeping an eye on Gilbert had probably caused that. He would have preferred to keep these concerns to himself, but since she had already figured out what was bothering him he figured he may as well speak up. "I don't know Ada," Oscar sighed as he poured himself a drink, "I just think that coming to the hospital is only going to make him worse."

"It could…" Ada nodded in agreement, cutting her sandwich and placing it on a plate before joining her uncle at the table, "but it would probably be a lot worse to keep him away."

"True…" Oscar ran a hand through his hair and turned his eyes to the ceiling, "So really, letting him come to visit is the better of two evils, right? Such a troublesome brat."

Ada smiled, "Being troublesome is what Gilbert and Big Brother do best."

The elder Vesslius laughed heartily and pet the young woman on the shoulder enthusiastically. "Never a truer word spoke!" he said.

One thing was certain; with Oz and Gilbert involved, there was no way things were going to go smoothly.

O-O-O

In many ways, nothing had changed since Oz woke up. Gilbert still rose at seven thirty, washed, ate, dressed, and went to work. He still worked his hardest in a job he hated, being the model employee he was when he actually turned up. He still managed to fall out with Eliot for one reason or another, still went to Reo to help him smooth things over with the boy, and still clocked out at five o' clock. He still thought about his friend throughout the day, more so now that he knew the boy was awake. He even had a few calls from Alice, and managed to hold a somewhat decent conversation with her for a grand total of two minutes before the pair were almost screaming down their phones at one another. Even those had not changed, though they were a little more frequent now.

Most importantly of all, he still visited the hospital every day, despite Oscar's advice that he try to distance himself a little. Oscar's, and everyone else's.

He knew they were just trying to help… But the last time they thought they were 'helping' him, he had ended up there… So he refused to stop. No matter how much it hurt to be there, it was nothing compared to the pain of not being there.

For the first few days Oz could hardly stay conscious for more than a few minutes, and even after he was able to stay awake all day, the number of hours he slept at night were long. He was so weak that just lifting his own arms was a struggle at first, but over the weeks he slowly began to gather enough strength to move around a little, though it was not very much.

The worst part, however, had been Oz's inability to communicate with the people around him. He was too weak to express himself by gesturing, and forming words correctly was next to impossible (apparently, it had been impressive that he had managed to say Gilbert's name). Gilbert knew that the boy's speech therapy sessions only made him feel self conscious and embarrassed, his frustration clear in the almost nonsensical sounds that left his mouth when he tried to speak. He normally just fell silent and refused to talk, choosing to practice when he was on his own, humming to himself for several minutes before trying to form words with his disobedient tongue. He worked hard, but it was mainly when he was alone, a determination to regain some of his battered pride making him silent when he was in company with others. It was sad to hear the once enthusiastic and infatuating voice of his best friend reduced to mere sounds and murmurs, but it was also fascinating to listen to the boy refine it, slowly returning his vocals to their former glory.

The days dragged on forever, any yet, without Gilbert noticing, they had formed into weeks. He hated being stuck on the outside after he had spent so many years with Oz… Oscar never scolded him when he left his nephew and found Gilbert sitting on the floor next to the door, or met him in the waiting room or hallway on his way to visit his nephew. He would just chat to him, ask him how work was, and then tell him that Oz was getting better quickly, and that he wouldn't have to wait much longer. "Soon, Gilbert," he would say, "We'll tell him soon."

That sounded great… the first hundred times the man said it. Now, after several weeks, the words just made Gil angry. Soon? When was soon?

One night, when Gilbert had worked late and so had been forced to wait until nightime to visit, he heard Oz speak.

"Sthe… Shh… She… s… se-ll-s… s-sea sh-hells on da… th… the sssea… sh-shore."

Oz's pleased hum felt like such a humble celebration for what Gilbert felt was a huge achievement. He wanted to run in and praise Oz for muscling his way through the tongue twister, to ask him to do it again, to encourage him and tell him that he would be speaking normally in no time. Instead, he raced down the hall and into the waiting room, where he pulled out his cell phone and called Oscar to tell him. The man was pleased, but not enough so. Oz was talking! It was difficult, it was awkward-sounding, but he was still doing it. Wasn't it amazing? Why wasn't he cheering? Ada appeared far more understanding, taking the phone from her uncle and echoing Gilbert's thoughts that this was a sign that he would be back to his old self in no time.

Gilbert hadn't been able to go back to Oz's room that night, but the next day, he heard Oz practicing harder than ever, though he never spoke when his uncle was around. He simply smiled and nodded or shook his head when the man spoke to him, and made various humming noises to express his feelings. Had he not heard Oz speaking constantly whenever he was alone, he would have wondered if Oscar was right to ask him if he had really heard Oz talking. Why was the boy hiding it?

He happened to be there the day it happened; the day that Oscar accidentally knocked his briefcase off the spare chair, sending it's contends scattering across the floor. With a loud but none to genuine sigh of irritation the man had rose from his seat in order to gather his things, but was frozen in place by the sound of his nephew's slightly awkward but undeniably teasing voice.

"Pft, Uncle, you're getting clum-sy in your old age."

Gilbert had to cover his mouth to prevent himself from laughing in the stunned silence that followed, wishing he could see the look on Oscar's face, or the grin that his friend was undeniably wearing. "You little brat!" he heard Oscar exclaim with a bark of laughter, "I ought to string you up for that! How long have you been keeping this from me?"

"I w… wanted to make shure I could talk," Oz said a little awkwardly, making an irritated noise that Gilbert expected was directed at the slight lisp he appeared to have acquired, "I need more work…"

"This is fantastic, Oz!" Oscar exclaimed, "I had no idea you were progressing this quickly… At this rate, you'll be back to normal in no time."

"U-Uncle," Oz stuttered in a quiet, embarrassed voice, "you don't h-ave to-"

"An uncle can hug his nephew, can't he?" Oscar laughed, to which Oz merely responded with an awkward mumble, silenced when the elder Vessalius told him that he was extremely proud of him for working hard and accomplishing so much. Oz never was very good at taking complements like that; he always got embarrassed.

"Told you," Gilbert whispered when Oscar stepped out into the hallway later.

"That you did," Oscar responded in an equally quiet manor, grinning at the young Nightray and patting him heavily on the shoulder. "I shouldn't have doubted you, Gil."

Those words hung in the air between the two men for a moment, polluting the previously glimmering atmosphere with shadows of the past. Resentment, guilt, and shame all alighted in a moment, before a forced smile aided in their banishment.

"With the way he was hiding it, I would have had trouble believing it, too," Gilbert said, chuckling quietly, "He's such a brat…" An insult by definition, but he spoke it with fondness and a tenderness in his voice that he sometimes forgot he had. He really hadn't changed… In line with Gilbert's deepest wishes, Oz had remained Oz throughout this entire ordeal. His pride that made him work hard and progress quickly, his impish nature that caused him to tease and taunt and scheme with what should have been a sensitive subject, his unusual shyness when shown real affection and encouragement… It was all just so… Oz.

Oscar did not say the words, and Gilbert knew it was because he didn't want to get the Nightray's hopes up, but they shone so clearly before him that his silence hardly mattered. And this time, they actually appeared to hold some promise, empowered by the sound of Oz's voice, and the confirmation that he was still the boy that Gilbert had grown to love.

"Soon, Oz…" Gilbert thought, "I'll see you again soon…"

O-O-O

"Bleh…" Oz made a face, resting his wrist on the edge of his tray and lightly poking his 'food' with his index finger, sticking out his tongue when the wet texture met his skin. "I miss solids… Hell, I almost miss the feeding tube!"

As far as Oz was concerned, you should not be able to eat meat through a straw; it was just weird. Maybe Alice would like it… that girl was the single most perfect example of a carnivore. "If she thought that you could drink meat as well as eat it, she'd pass out from the endorphin overload," he thought with a smile before sighing and reaching for his spoon. He'd promised the cute nurse he would eat it all, and though he had originally thought the idea of a pretty girl feeding him was pretty much heaven incarnate, it had lost its appeal after the first few times. Now it just made him feel even more useless than he usually did these days, so he would just have to suck it up and eat… or drink. Whatever. "I'd kill for a double cheese burger... And I don't even like them!"

At least it kept him distracted for a few minutes, and it wasn't those annoying muscle exercises he had to do every day. He glanced sideways at the small dumbbells that one of the nurses had left on his bedside table, narrowing his eyes and trying to force as much loathing he could into that steady glare. It really annoyed him that lifting those little things made him tired, but it was the only way he was going to get better, so he just grit his teeth did his exercises as often as he could. It didn't mean he didn't hate those dumbbells with all his being. He let them know it, too. He'd called them so many colorful names in the past few weeks, especially when he pulled a muscle or something.

He should probably do a little exercise… but he really didn't want to. Not at this very minute, at least. He needed to spread his activities out a bit today; Oscar had told him the day before that he had a meeting and probably wouldn't be able to visit, though he would try to see him later that night if he could. Oz understood, of course, but he was dreading spending an entire day alone. It wouldn't have been so bad if he had some games or books or something, but all he had was a deck of cards to mess around with. Even the doctors and nurses spent as little time as possible with him, rushing in just to give him a check up before disappearing in a flash. So… He really had nothing to do but play cards, look out the window, or admire the ever-so-exciting hospital décor.

"Card's it is, then," he decided, lifting his oh-so-delicious dinner to his mouth, making yet another face as the weird, mushy texture slid down his throat. It wasn't like he had anything better to do… Except maybe heckle the doctors into telling him what was really going on around here. Really, they must have thought he was born yesterday if they truly believed he had not noticed all the little oddities that ran his new, rather boring lifestyle (Granted, he had the mobility of an infant and his speech wasn't much better until recently, but still!).

He didn't want to think about that right now, though… He'd already lost way too much sleep by letting his mind think about the reasons behind his enforced solitude, or the way the sun rose too late and set too early for it to be summer, or the fact that he had no television, or magazines, or newspapers, or why the nurses and doctors kept lying to him and avoiding him and-

No.

No, right now, he wanted to time himself and see just how quickly he could finish a game of Solitaire.

He just wanted to keep himself busy, at least until he was tired enough to take a nap.

Until he was too tired to think.

He didn't like Solitaire, really, but it was just about the only single-person card game he knew. He reached for the deck on the nightstand beside his bed, frowning when his arm appeared to lock in place before it aligned with his shoulders. He grit his teeth and forced it further back and outward at the same time, gripping the deck as best he could with his temperamental fingers. He managed to pick it up and pull it towards himself, but at the last second his hand twitched involuntarily and he dropped the cards on the bed.

He slammed his hand down to prevent them from sliding off the side, but not quick enough.

"Damn it…" Oz muttered under his breath, tilting his body slightly to look down over the side of his bed at the cards that had slipped from his grasp. Stupid body… Why didn't it-

… He really didn't want to get angry right now - he didn't have the strength for it – so he focused on the cards instead. The bed was not raised that high… Glancing at the length of his arm and then back at the floor, he concluded that, if he lay down, he could probably reach them. However, he hadn't been able to get his legs to move very much since he woke up, and his body, though growing in strength, was still quite weak. He could fall off the bed, and as harmless as that sounded, he knew that he shouldn't risk it in his current condition.

"I guess I'll just have to wait for someone to show up and ask them to…" He didn't even want to finish that thought… He felt useless enough as it was. "Now I've gotta build those stupid card houses… Great…"

He sighed heavily, sinking back into his pillow and allowing his eyes to slide closed, fingers wrapping around the remaining cards in his hands and squeezing them weakly. He really wished he had the strength to bend them or something, just to show them how annoyed he was.

This was going to be a long day…

O-O-O

"I can't believe it's already been a month…" Gilbert thought to himself as he pushed his coins through the slot of the coffee machine, frowning when several were rejected and stopping just short of hitting the machine in annoyance. He was so tired… He had been forced to take work home and spent half the night going through files and forms he knew next to nothing about, stamping and folding and yawning at the tedious workload. On the bright side, he had been allowed to go home half day, apparently too much off a zombie to be of any real use on the phones or at the front desk, so he had decided to make his daily visit to Oz on his way home.

He began to reinsert the coins, continuing to do so until the machine took them all, quietly pondering on his friend's condition. "The time has flown, but I still can't believe how quickly he's progressed." Did that mean it would soon be time to tell Oz everything? He hoped so… All this waiting was driving him crazy, and he hated that everyone was lying to his best friend. More than once he had considered barging into Oz's room and telling him everything, but he had managed to restrain himself. "There's no way they'd let me near him if I did that…" he thought with a sigh, reaching up to press the button for black coffee.

"Well, well, well…. Is that Raven I see?"

Gilbert's entire form stiffened, his finger hovering just a hair breadth from the button, at the sound of the all too familiar voice behind him. Before he had even turned to face the man he had released an irritated groan and set a frown to match upon his lips, glaring over his shoulder at the silver-haired weirdo grinning and waving at him from just a few feet away. "Xerxes Break…" he grumbled. Suddenly, he really didn't need that coffee anymore.

"Charming as ever, aren't we Gilbert?" Break said with a smile, one that instantly conjured up images of a clown… a clown from some sort of freaky horror movie. It wasn't difficult to see why Alice had instantly taken to calling him just that – 'Clown' – especially when he spent quite a lot of his time performing old-fashioned and often startling magic tricks just to scare them. "Visiting Oz today, are you? Ah," he chuckled and crossed his arms, "but wait… I believe Oscar mentioned that you aren't supposed to go anywhere near him, am I correct?"

Gilbert's mouth dropped open at the man's words. That nosey little-! "That's none of your business," he stated, turning around and pressing the button to receive his coffee, focusing on the dark liquid that flowed from the machine rather than the man behind him. Maybe if he ignored him, he'd just go away… Wait, what was he thinking? This was Xerxes Break; if he decided he wanted to stick around, all the forces of nature couldn't move him. "I'm… I'm not actually seeing him," he said quietly without turning around, "I just…"

"I know," Break said, stepping up next to Gilbert and tossing a lazy arm around the taller man's shoulder, "Oscar explained everything to me."

"Then why did you ask?" Gilbert snapped, shrugging the man's arm off his shoulder before snatching his coffee and making his way down the corridor, knowing full well that Break was going to follow him. That man… He may have helped him in the past, but he had always been an insufferable idiot, the only person who could really make Gilbert angry (normally brought about by the man's mere presence). Though... He didn't feel entirely annoyed by the sight of the red-eyed man. He would never admit it out loud, but he… hadn't exactly been happy when Break had stopped visiting. How long had it been since they'd seen each other? "What are you doing here?"

It was almost a relief to turn around and see Break walking behind him, idly swinging his arms and watching the ends of his sleeves flop back and forth. Really… why did he always buy jackets that were too long for him? Did he like swimming around in his own clothes, or did he just have short arms? When spoken to he merely hummed and brought his hands up, flicking his wrists back and forth so that the cuffs of his sleeves flapped against Gilbert's face, making the man stumble backwards with a startled cry, accidentally spilling coffee on his hand.

"Break!" he exclaimed, cursing as he placed the coffee down on a window ledge and shook the droplets of boiling liquid from his hand.

"Oh my, that's going to leave a mark," Break said in a false tone of concern, grinning. Grinning? Oh right, this guy was some sort of sadist, he'd almost forgot. "Silly little Raven~!"

Gilbert, still shaking his hand, looked up at Break when he sang that all too familiar name. Raven? He hadn't heard that name in a while… And he still didn't like it. "Don't call me that," he said as he reached for his coffee, only to have it snatched away at the last second by the very man that had forced it to release it in the first place. "Hey!"

"I'm here because Liam went and got himself cut by a poorly-stored knife," Break said, ignoring Gilbert's discontent and continuing down the corridor without him, "Silly man almost lost a toe. Honestly, everyone I know is an idiot." He took a sip of coffee, but instantly spat the contents back in the cup and made a face. "Ugh, disgusting stuff," he said, holding the beverage out to Gilbert, who was staring at him with a look of disbelief, "Here, you can have it."

"I don't want it now!"

"Why?" How could he pull off that genuine confused look so easily?

"Because you spat in it!"

"No I didn't."

"You-!" Gilbert started, but one look at that smug expression on Xerxes' face and he was reminded that any fight with Break was completely pointless, because the man before him always won simply because he was too stubborn to admit otherwise. With a huff he stormed past Break towards Oz's room, "Just go back to Liam, I'm busy."

Break, apparently undeterred, spilled the contents of Gilbert's drink into a potted plant before following him. "Oh, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't want to talk to me," he stated nonchalantly, waving his hand in a dismissive manner.

Gilbert did not slow his pace, but he looked back over his shoulder, "The knife was your fault, wasn't it?"

"Now Gilbert, there is no sense in pointing fingers at anyone. It was a terrible accident and Liam will just have to live with a few stitches."

"I'm so glad I don't work with you anymore…" Gilbert sighed, turning down the hallway that led to Oz's room. Poor Liam… Apparently it was, quite literally, a health hazard to be in the same workspace as Break. Still, Gilbert knew the man well enough to know he was probably feeling rather guilty and had probably done something to make up for it already… Whatever that was.

"Aww, my feelings are hurt," Break said, reaching forward and flicking Gilbert's ear hard… Or, pulling a lollipop out of it, apparently. That man and his magic tricks… And his candy obsession was even worse! "Want one? It's your favorite~!" Gilbert was more than a little surprised when he realized that it was.

He stopped in his tracks before room 110, suddenly aware of just how close they were to Oz's room. Break had followed him all the way there… Now what was he supposed to do? He didn't want the man there… He would look like such a weirdo just hanging around outside Oz's room. Granted, it probably looked strange to everyone that passed, but he didn't really care since none of them really knew him. Break, though… "No thanks," he said, turning around to face the elder man, "Um, Break, maybe you really should get back to Liam…"

Break pouted. He actually pouted. And it was so, so creepy. "We don't see each other for months, and after only five minutes you want to get rid of me? Oh, if Emily were here she would tell you how rude you were being."

Gilbert shivered at the thoughts of that creepy, blue-skinned doll. Ugh... Emily… That thing gave him nightmares. "Look, I just think we should-" he started a little awkwardly, before Break threw his arms in the air with an overdramatic sigh.

"Raven has simply no idea just how boring he is. How sad…" the red-eyed man drawled, spinning around and twirling the pop he had previously offered Gilbert in his right hand like a tiny baton. "I suppose I should go back and check on Liam, make sure he hasn't impaled himself with a scalpel or something."

"Good idea," Gilbert said, a little too quickly.

"I'll be off then," Break chirped, turning around and taking several steps forward until he was standing directly in front of Gilbert. He waited for a few seconds until the man started to feel uncomfortable, before reaching up and tapping the lollipop off the end of Gil's nose, grinning, "Say hello to your boyfriend for me~!"

Gilbert froze.

His… what?

"Wh-what?" Gilbert stuttered, his face instantly warming, even more so when he spotted the knowing grin on the elder man's face. "H-He's not my boyfrrmph-!" He was silenced when the pop Break had been holding was shoved into his mouth, causing him to stumble back and cough heavily, though he automatically bit down on the piece of candy and held it in place.

Break was already halfway down the hallway by the time Gilbert had forced he watering eyes open to search for him, laughing at the Nightray's embarrassment. With one last wave of his floppy sleeve-encased arm he yelled a joyous, 'Enjoy your date, you adorable little lovebirds~!' before disappearing from sight, leaving a confused and rather flustered Gilbert in his wake.

He knew Gilbert was here to visit Oz… And he had called Oz his…

Gilbert's heart thudded hard, a new wave of warmth washing over his quickly reddening skin. "That's not… We're not… It's not like Oz would ever… or that I would ever…" He gripped the edge of the lollipop and bit down hard on the treat, instantly breaking it, and munched on the remains quickly, hoping the loud crunching would drown out his thoughts.

Thoughts that he had been successfully ignoring lately… Unleashed, now, by a simple comment from Xerxes Break.

He scowled down the hallway, in the direction the man had travelled, wishing that idiot hadn't ruined his coffee or upset his day or given him candy when he was trying to lose a few pounds or said something stupid and embarrassing that he really should have just ignored because now Break was going to tease him even more and-

"Break…" he growled, bringing a hand up and pinching the bridge of his nose in hopes of quelling the headache that he knew would come, just like it always did when he had a run-in with the red-eyed man. He was such a pain.

And yet… he could not stop himself from smiling as he shook he head and walked the short distance down to Oz's room, leaning against the wall just right of the boy's door. It was silent inside, which meant that Oz was either sleeping, reading, or playing something quietly.

Half an hour, and then he would go home. Same as always.

"Boyfriend…" he muttered, scoffing lightly before he returned to idly chewing on the lollipop stick, staring at the ceiling and listening for any signs of life within his dear friend's room. "As if…"

Break was such an idiot.

O-O-O

"If you don't stay up, I will t… tear you."

Could paper be threatened? Apparently not, because the moment he spoke those words the two cards he had been trying to make stand in place slipped and landed face down on the table, and it took all Oz's patience not to grab them and make good on his threat. The stupid table attached to his bed shook at the tiniest movement and knocked any progress he managed to make on his little card tower project (which hardly went past two or three small, triangular 'houses'). Not only that, it was extremely tedious, Oz was already annoyed, and he was also very, very bored.

His eyes slid to the side of the bed again, where four little runaway cards lay an an almost perfect line along the floor. Taunting him, you see, trying to make him angrier. They were doing a good job… He needed those cards. He had to do something to pass the time, and at least Solitaire would make him think a little.

He knew he shouldn't. Somewhere, in a more calm, sensible part of his brain, Oz knew it was a stupid idea, and that he would regret it later if things went wrong. But that lovely quiet place in his mind was hard do find among all the pent of frustration and confusion that he had been keeping tightly locked inside for several weeks. He was starting to worry again. He was starting to think about Gilbert again, and the way Oscar avoided talking about him. Or anything. Or how the doctors refused to tell him-

He needed those cards. Right. Now.

With quite an amount of effort, he managed to slide down the bed and roll over so that his left arm hung over the side of the bed, his hand hovering just inches above the lost cards. He shifted a little more so that he could peek over the edge of the mattress and see what he was doing, but they were just out of reach… If he slid a little more off the bed he could probably touch them… He did just that, but they were still just the tiniest bit out of reach. His right hand gripped the sheets – that voice from the lovely quiet place that he purposefully ignored telling him that wouldn't be enough to hold him – and reached, gritting his teeth when he felt that annoying tension in his muscles again.

But suddenly, the cards were getting a lot closer, very quickly.

O-O-O

"Ack!"

The sound of Oz's voice startled Gilbert, who had just pushed himself away from the wall, intent on heading home and getting some sleep. He stopped in his tracks, his heart frozen in his chest, ears deaf to all else except the sounds from Oz's room. The boy had yelled, after which a loud clatter and short yelp had sounded.

Hurt.

Was Oz hurt?

Where were… Gilbert looked up and down the corridor, but he saw neither a doctor nor a nurse in sight. But… Oz could be hurt! Where were they?

He couldn't go in… He wasn't allowed to. If Oz was not ready, and if he figured out who Gilbert was, he could relapse. If he went in there now, he could hurt his friend. He didn't want that. He could never-

Oz groaned in pain, and suddenly all other concerns seemed to disappear in a flash.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Gilbert had thrown open the door to Oz's room and stepped inside.

O-O-O

To Be Continued

O-O-O