At long last, the final chapter! But allow me to keep you waiting for just a bit longer, because once more I'd like to thank everyone who read this story, reviewed it, or added it to their favourites or alerts :) Thank you so much for the support; you guys are awesome!
I'd also like to apologise for the long wait – something I've been doing almost all this time, but this time it really did take a while because I had to make some major changes and additions. The result is this ridiculously lengthy chapter that you're about to read (it should have been split into two, seriously XD), but hopefully that'll make up for the equally long wait!
Okay, I won't keep you waiting any longer :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts or it's One-Shot.
Ernest was dead before Oz's scream could even fade.
Of course he would be. After all, Gilbert's greatest quality was his impeccable accuracy. Once he had found his true aim, he could never miss. That along with his many other skills made him one of the best as well as most desired hit man out there, and that's why the Nightrays had went as far as cheating him in order to ensure that he would accept their most important job – if there was anyone they could trust to successfully spill the blood of someone belonging to one of the Four Great Duke houses and deal with an Abyss, it was him.
The Flaming Scorpion's grip on B-Rabbit immediately slackened so she wasted no time in pulling it free and retreating back. She wasn't sure what would happen next but one thing she did know for sure was that she didn't want to get caught up in it, since it couldn't possibly be anything good.
And she was right.
A whirlwind of fierce purple fire erupted from seemingly nowhere, engulfing the Scorpion and Ernest in a matter of seconds. The man was unharmed by the abnormal fire and still probably wouldn't be had he been alive but the Abyss, ironically, was clearly suffering. It screeched in fury and tried desperately to break free from the flaming vortex, but it was like an unbreakable barrier that seared upon every touch.
'HOW?!' it screamed in its final minutes of existence. The flames were eating away at the Abyss, causing it to slowly disintegrate starting from the place where its tail once used to be. 'WE WERE TOLD THAT B-RABBIT HAD NEVER FOUND A CONTRACTOR AND NEVER WOULD!'
Gilbert turned to look at B-Rabbit questioningly, or more specifically, at Oz. Much to his surprise though, the blonde had an astonished look on his face as though he too was baffled by the Scorpion's words.
Strange...
"Who?" demanded Oz. Both the Scorpion and B-Rabbit were running out of time. She was already beginning to fade since Oz no longer had enough spare energy to sustain her true form. "Who told you these things?! Answer me!"
'THE CARDS... THEY ARE THE KING'S MESSENGERS... HIS UNDERLINGS...'
Gilbert's eyes widened when the image of a white-haired maid flashed in his mind.
Cards... King... And maybe even those red-cloaked people... Could it be...?
On reflex he reached down, pushed his coat aside and slipped a hand in the pocket of his pants. And as expected the King of Hearts card he had picked up a few days ago was still there.
"Could there be a connection here...?"
'YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN CHAINED UNTIL THE END OF TIME!' screamed the disbelieving Abyss, or what was left of it. 'YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN UNLEASHED!'
For the longest of time Oz had been rendered absolutely speechless from shock by his opponent's words, and he stared ahead with wide, unfocused eyes. But eventually he snapped out of whatever daze he was in...
Only to start laughing hysterically.
"Well then!" he began once his fit of laughter died down, surprisingly amused for someone who looked shell-shocked just seconds ago. "You'd better send a message to your friends back home if you can. Tell them. And tell them to inform the King as well, that B-Rabbit has finally found a vessel..."
Oz smirked cruelly when the Flaming Scorpion released one last screech of rage as its head began to disintegrate. "...and that I now walk the earth like the rest."
The roaring flames swirled rapidly until it completely swallowed the Abyss. Oz had to back away to avoid being caught by the vortex and Gilbert began to make his way towards him. After almost a minute, the flames slowly reduced in intensity and the pillar of fire started breaking up. Bit by bit wisps of flames began to die until another minute later, they were completely gone.
And so was the Flaming Scorpion.
The only thing left to indicate that it ever existed was the wrecked warehouse it left in its wake, as well as the string of murders it had committed in the recent past. Even its severed tail and black blood had mysteriously disappeared during that literal whirlwind of activity.
By the time Gilbert reached Oz, the boy was on his hands and knees, panting heavily. Sweat rolled down his face from the hairline and his eyes were shut tight. But Gilbert knew it was still B-Rabbit in control for the tattoo was still present.
"The Contractor," gasped B-Rabbit. "Did you... Shoot the...?"
Somehow, Gilbert was able to understand what she was trying to ask him. "Yes. And the heart. He's dead."
The possessed Oz remained where he was for a while, doing his best to settle his breathing a bit before standing up. That in itself was an effort since he swayed unsteadily once he was back up on his feet. Oz's energy was utterly drained since B-Rabbit had no choice but to use so much power even though they had just recently formed a Contract, so Oz's body had not yet adapted to it all.
"I see..." muttered Oz, whose eyelids began drooping. "...What a waste..."
And with that he slumped forward, right into Gilbert's waiting arms. The man hissed quietly when Oz's head lightly bumped against his chest but otherwise said nothing. Besides, if his guess was right then it would've been pointless to say anything at all.
With a deep breath, Gilbert carefully hefted Oz up and over his shoulder with a slight wince and briefly carried him towards the warehouse, where he set the teen down again against the wall. As expected, his eyes were closed but the tattoo was now gone and as if on cue, he noticed soft but strong purple light streaming through the hole in the warehouse as the time-stop disintegrated.
"Saved by the kid... Again."
It was then when he properly noticed the blonde's condition. Oz's eyes were shut a bit too tightly as if in pain while soft pants strangely continued to escape him through slightly parted lips. His cheeks were visibly flushed as well, almost as though...
Realisation dawned to him and in order to confirm his suspicions, Gilbert swiftly pulled off his left glove before placing his hand over the boy's forehead.
It was noticeably warm.
After some time Gilbert stood up and sighed, before reaching into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.
"A fever... Most likely due to severe exhaustion."
Once he had one lit and in between his lips, he shoved the packet back and inhaled deeply. His chest stung a bit, but his addiction simply told him to endure it.
In the distance, Gilbert could hear the belated shouts and exclamations of angry and astonished citizens. He was not surprised. In fact, it would've been rather strange if anyone hadn't noticed a giant, roaring purple pillar of hell suddenly appear out of nowhere at some ungodly hour in the night, before disappearing just as abruptly as it came.
Well, that was his cue to leave...
"...at this rate, the boy is gonna be out cold for days!"
After exhaling a steady stream of smoke, he glanced at the unconscious Oz.
"...Just how many days are we talking here?"
~ Three days later... ~
'Oz? Wake up.'
"Hnn-... Wha...?"
Darkness faded as Oz slowly opened his eyes... Only to be met by more darkness. However, it quickly became apparent that this one was caused by the natural phenomenon known as 'night time'. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, Oz soon realised that he was in a room since he was currently staring at a ceiling.
"...Am I... Back home...?"
That wasn't exactly right. Hadn't his home been destroyed...?
"...Or... Was it all a dream...?"
'How rude. Are you implying that I'm just some crazy voice in your head?'
"B-Rabbit...?" murmured Oz a bit unsurely.
'The one and only.'
Oz tentatively sat up with a light groan, and his hands automatically found their way to his head that was throbbing from a strong headache. But rather than coming in contact with skin, the heel of his hands pressed into something soft, cold and wet.
"What the...?"
Closing the fingers of his right hand around the object, he peeled it off his forehead and discovered that it was a wet towel.
How unusual. Why was there a wet towel on his head...?
"Where... Where are we?" he mumbled after some time, addressing the question to his Abyss.
'I'm not sure. You were unconscious the whole time so I didn't have access to any of your senses.'
"And how long is 'the whole time', exactly?"
'Again, I'm not sure. But maybe if some people weren't so touchy about having their bodies possessed without permission, I might have considered taking you over and exploring a bit beforehand.'
Not in the mood for an argument, Oz simply ignored her before removing his hand once the throbbing reduced and looked around. Even if he hadn't, he knew he was probably in a bedroom. It wasn't a very large one nor was it extravagantly furnished, but it was simple and tidy. The only thing that was large was the bed which seemed as though it could easily contain two people, but at the moment he was the only one there. Also, one of the pillows was missing.
There was a single bedside table wedged between the bed and the wall to his left, and on it was a bowl of water as well as two brown glass bottles of medicine containing opaque syrup. Against the wall ahead of him was a simple study table and chair, above which was a large window. The curtains had been drawn, allowing the moonlight to spill through and illuminate the room to the best of its ability. To his right was a small wardrobe, and at the very opposite-end corner of the room was the door. All in all it was a painfully plain room with not a single personal effect or decorative piece of furniture to suggest that someone even lived in it, which briefly made him wonder if this was perhaps some sort of guest room.
Oz pushed aside the heavy blanket and slipped out of bed. His shoes were missing but it wasn't really an issue since the floor was carpeted, and the rest of his clothes were still where they were supposed to be (he would have been more than just a little disturbed if they hadn't). He made his way to the door.
'What if you've been kidnapped? They could be waiting on the other side of that door, you know.'
Oz shrugged, before opening the door anyway. He was met by a dark, empty hallway.
"I highly doubt it," he whispered, just in case there was anyone else around and awake. "Don't you think they would've tied me up rather than tuck me in?"
'Yeah, well, maybe you're a V.I.H?'
"A what?"
'Very Important Hostage.'
Oz rolled his eyes and chose not to respond. Instead, he carefully tiptoed down the short, carpeted passage. This house didn't have many rooms, he noticed, after crossing only two closed doors. At the end of the passage he emerged in a large space that was a living room and dining room in one, which was about when he realised that he was in an apartment and not a house. It was also at that point when the strong chill in the air finally registered to him, making him shiver and briefly miss being under the warm covers.
To his very right he could see the kitchen through a large rectangular gap carved into the wall which had a counter top attached on the bottom, next to which was the entrance in between the counter and the wall on the right. In front of the kitchen was a small, ordinary dining table, and to his left was a long sofa up against the back wall. Oz spotted the missing pillow from earlier as well as a blanket sprawled across it. Opposite from the sofa was a large bookshelf and at the very end of the room was a balcony. The sliding glass doors were currently open, revealing a tall figure leaning over the railing with a cigarette in one hand.
And even with his back facing Oz, the boy could immediately tell who it was from the seaweed-like hair.
"So this must be Gilbert's place. Did he... Carry me back here after I fainted?"
Oz slowly approached the unsuspecting figure, taking extra care to remain silent. He didn't know why but he simply didn't want Gilbert to notice him just yet. Perhaps it was because Oz wasn't quite ready to face the man, since he didn't even know what to say. First Gilbert had tried to kill him, but then he had saved Oz twice out of his own desire. Why? Just who exactly was this man? Why did he show mercy when it would only mean trouble for him? Why did he kill people at all when his heart seemed to discriminate against his victims? And why is it that from the very start, Oz was unable to muster even a grain of enmity towards Gilbert in his heart? Why did he constantly have this feeling that the man simply wasn't meant to be a killer? That he wasn't as evil as one might think he would be?
It was all just so... Confusing.
"About time you woke up."
Oz's hand flew to his heart as he started in surprise, before mildly glaring at the back of Gilbert's head. "Geez, you scared me!"
Without turning, Gilbert said, "I find it ironic hearing that from someone who tried to sneak up on me. Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice?"
"Ah, good point..." Oz bit his lip sheepishly. "S-sorry about that. I didn't mean to do anything, really. I was just... I don't really know... I mean-"
Gilbert exhaled lazily, releasing a wispy cloud of smoke that slowly melted into the night sky. "It's alright."
Oz continued to watch, nearly hypnotised by the slow trails of smoke Gilbert released after each exhale. This went on for many minutes until Gilbert suddenly glanced over his shoulder and nonchalantly asked, "How are you feeling now?"
That earned him a look of puzzlement from Oz, so with a sigh he removed the cigarette from his mouth and explained, "Right, you probably don't recall... You started to develop a pretty bad fever when you fainted after the battle at the warehouse."
It was then when Oz recalled the wet towel he found on his forehead as well as the bottles of medicine and bowl of water on the bedside table from earlier. Then Gilbert's words properly registered to him, causing all other thoughts to crash to a halt from the astonishment he was feeling.
"Again, he..."
"Well, the fact that you're finally awake pretty much answers my earlier question," he added, more to himself, before turning away and putting the cigarette back between his lips.
"...Is that why you brought me back here?" asked Oz quietly after a while.
Gilbert did not respond.
There was a long period of silence after that, but eventually Oz gathered his courage and said, "...I don't really know why you did it, but... Thank you. The same goes for earlier when... A-after the ceremony... I didn't get to say it earlier, so I'd like to thank you for that now as well. You saved my life twice."
The elder male said nothing for the longest of time. But at some point he smashed his cigarette against the metal railing and expertly flicked it into a nearby dustbin concealed in the shadows. Then he turned around to lean back against the railing with his elbows bent and arms slung loosely over the edge, tilting his head back to gaze up at the starry sky thoughtfully in the process.
Oz found his attention instantly drawn to Gilbert's chest that was exposed through his unbuttoned shirt and black coat. It was heavily bandaged and thankfully there were no more visible blood stains, but Oz still felt great guilt when he saw the many layers as well as how much of his torso they covered. Just how bad had the gash been...? And despite the fact that Oz had inflicted such a wound upon him, Gilbert had saved him only minutes after. Even right now...
At some point Gilbert felt Oz's stare and belatedly realised that his bandages were exposed. His torso felt constricted enough as it was, but his clothes only seemed to make it worse so he had opted to keep them unbuttoned. And when Oz's gaze didn't waver then Gilbert, unbeknown to Oz, started watching him from the corner of his eye while letting his thoughts roam. While the other had been unconscious Gilbert had done some thinking, and now those thoughts began to resurface...
He knew he was a man of complexities and twisted justice. On the outside he appeared to most as nothing more than a cold, emotionally detached man that did not hesitate to commit acts that went against the law. However, 'most' did not know him. In fact, Gilbert could say with absolute certainty that apart from himself, there was no other person on this planet that truly knew him.
Well, there might have been one once...
Traumatised at a very young age by the loss of that one person that had been the dearest to him, Gilbert's heart had developed an insatiable thirst for revenge against the kind of people that had ultimately taken that person away from him after making their lives a living hell.
That led him to his first murder. His first act of revenge. And it was that impulsive act that had set him down the lonely path of a murderer for the rest of his life. There was no turning back once you stained your hands with blood no matter how much you wished you could, or no matter how pure at heart you were. Gilbert had been well aware of that.
Yet... He did not want to kill. He did not want to be a murderer. How could he, when he knew he would be unable to take the life of someone who had been just as innocent as his dearest person had been?
That was when he came to a compromise with himself.
The one important thing he had forgotten was that there were no rules when it came to the unlawful. And with the one person that had been anchoring him to reality by giving him a purpose gone, it wasn't as though he had anything left to lose.
So he deceived, he stole, he murdered – all to quench the thirst of revenge and douse the scorching flames of hatred burning in his heart... But he did these things only to those that, in his eyes, deserved such misfortune. And those people were, of course, the ones who did the same and much more. Much worse.
They lived for amusement. They used people for entertainment. And they killed because it was enjoyable; unlike Gilbert, who had no choice but to live, no choice but to use people as a means to ends, and no choice but to kill people – because it was a need, not a want.
He knew it was biased and even hypocritical to some degree. But he honestly did not care, because as long as his way of life did not bring him anymore guilt and grief, it was fine. In his eyes his actions were justifiable and that was about as far as he was willing to see.
And so, for those reasons he was cold and reserved most of the time but again, it was only towards those that he loathed.
But at the end of the day, Gilbert was still human. And even he had a heart.
That heart may have frozen over years ago but beneath the ice, it was still beating. It was still alive. It could still feel.
So if he ever happened to bump into you, say, while out shopping on a bright and sunny day, Gilbert would stop and take the time to apologise with a neutral expression and maybe even help you up pick up your things if you dropped them. Or if you happened to be a man dying in the rain on a stormy night and stopped him as he walked past the alley you were left in, pleading him to pass on your last words to your wife and kids back home, he would let you rest in peace by promising to do so. Not even for a second would it cross your mind that the seemingly normal, albeit reserved man before you was a ruthless monster when he needed to be.
That's because he had no enmity towards normal people. Hence he had no reason to be hostile towards them.
But neither was there a reason to be friendly.
However, that didn't mean he couldn't be polite or even considerate to a degree.
Which was why, while Oz had been unconscious, Gilbert realised that the blonde had never been an enemy to begin with. Therefore, his hostility towards him had been completely unnecessary, and even quite unjustified. By now even the boy would've noticed something off about the way Gilbert had treated him up until this point, and if he had yet to then he definitely would when he learnt of what the elder was planning to do soon... That's why, at the very least he felt as though he should clear up any doubts and misunderstandings caused by that misplaced hostility before proceeding any further.
And when Gilbert saw the guilt flicker past dull green eyes, he chose it as his cue to speak.
"I should be the one saying that."
Oz's eyes met Gilbert's and he stared into them, confused.
Gilbert looked away. "You would've survived both times even without my help. You're the son of a Duke, so naturally there would've been people to look out for you. However... Not many value the life of someone like me. In fact, no one would. And yet you saved me twice by putting your own life at risk..."
"I'm sure I would've made it through the first time somehow, but during the second time I don't think even I would've survived an explosion of that magnitude..."
He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply in an attempt to dispel all unnecessary thoughts, and to prepare himself for what he was about to say next. Although he had decided to clear the misunderstandings, in all honesty he had no idea how. This situation... It was new. It was unusual. But he would try. And at last he reached the conclusion that he would start by at least showing that he appreciated the boy's attempt to save his life.
"That's why; I should be the one thanking you..." Gilbert hesitated for a moment, before meeting the blonde's gaze once more. "...Oz."
It took a moment to fully register Gilbert's words but when they did, Oz stared wide-eyed at the other, speechless.
"...That's the first time he's ever said my name..."
And at that though, Oz couldn't help but smile softly at Gilbert. To think, that this once-terrifying man really wasn't as bad as he projected himself to be. Oz had suspected this was the case ever since their stay in the hospital, and now he was quite confident.
That it was just an act. A shield. A mask.
In that respect, they were quite similar which was probably how he somehow managed to catch a glimpse of what must be the true Gilbert hidden behind those irritated scowls and cold glares in the first place. But what intrigued him was why Gilbert felt the need to mask his more humane side with a cold-blooded exterior. It sparked an almost unbearable curiosity within him, because it was always the other way around with dangerous people pretending to be harmless.
When Oz smiled, Gilbert couldn't help but avert his gaze back to the sky once more. The way he smiled... The elder couldn't recall a time when any stranger smiled at him like that. And he didn't think he deserved for anyone to smile at him the way Oz did, which was why he looked away. Bearing such a sight for too long was difficult for him.
"But I'll admit that I am a bit curious..."
"I've been meaning to ask," started Gilbert, still watching the stars. "But... Why did you follow me when I went after the Nightrays?"
"At first I thought it was to return the favour for saving him from the burning mansion, but he already did so by getting me to a hospital."
"I... I just didn't want to see anyone else die..."
"That was his reason the first time. And it makes sense for him to want to do that considering the circumstances at that time, I guess..."
For a moment Oz was caught off guard by the sudden, unexpected question posed to him. Despite that however, his answer came to him instantly. After all, it was such a simple question.
"I was simply listening to my heart, like you did," he said meaningfully, smile still in place.
That answer made Gilbert's eyes widen by a fraction, and for a period of time he was rendered absolutely speechless as well as unable to think. But eventually his lips curled up by the slightest in the ghost of a sardonic smirk once his surprise did fade.
"He's kind to a fault, this brat. All the more reason for me to do this..."
"...What do you plan to do from now on?"
"If it's what I suspect, then..."
For the second time in minutes, Oz was met by an unanticipated question. But unlike last time, he found himself silent for some time as he considered the question. He didn't really know why he paused to think about it when he already had his answer, but...
"I..."
...The unanswered question was how, not what.
Oz balled his fists in determination once the words came to him. "My sister may have been kidnapped, but I'm sure she's still alive... I'm going to find out who took her, why, and then save her somehow."
Gilbert released a quiet sigh. "I knew it... That's pretty much the only thing he has left to live for anyway. Well, that just makes this easier for me."
Tilting his head forward to look at Oz properly, the older man asked, "Can that stupid rabbit hear us? I need to talk to it."
Before he could answer Gilbert's question, Oz's eyes slowly turned crimson while a familiar tattoo materialised under his left eye, and B-Rabbit's first act upon possessing Oz was to glare daggers up at the taller man.
"I can hear you loud and clear, seaweed head, and I'm not an 'it', I'm a-"
"Well for now you're an 'it'," interrupted Gilbert impatiently without even the slightest hint of remorse for his mistake. "Deal with it."
Before B-Rabbit could launch her volley of insulting comebacks, Gilbert continued speaking. "According to you, this boy is pretty much useless until he matures or whatever, right? I don't really care what you plan on doing with him once he's nice and ripe for the picking, but until then you're not allowed to go around causing any kind of trouble."
Then, he paused to take a deep breath before adding, in a slightly quieter voice, "In addition to that... You're going to assist him and I find his sister. You're free to do whatever you want after that."
B-Rabbit gawked at Gilbert, completely at a loss for words. But when she finally recovered enough to move her mouth again, she cried, "Wh-what're you, my mother or something? What the hell makes you think that I'm going to listen to you of all people?!"
In one fluid movement, Gilbert swiftly pulled out his gun and cocked it warningly before staring the possessed boy in the eyes calmly. "Because, I have the power to protect him better than you can in his current state. He would be dead in less than a week if he kept fainting each time you were done possessing him. I did mention earlier that many people would be there to look out for him, but there will also be others like me who were sent to take his life because he is the son of a Duke when they learn that he's still alive."
B-Rabbit folded her arms and averted her gaze to glare at some random corner. She knew Gilbert was right, but she would never give him the satisfaction of actually admitting it. But then she yelped when she suddenly felt the freezing cold metal of the older man's gun on the lower side of her cheek causing her body to jerk in surprise, after which Gilbert used it to tilt her face back towards him. Apparently he wasn't done speaking yet.
"However," he murmured, in such a low, menacing voice that it made her shudder involuntarily. "I also have the power to kill this boy whenever I please, but you wouldn't really like that, would you?"
"Y-you're lying!" she scoffed. "A mere bullet is nothing for me. Or did you forget the humiliation you faced in the hospital? If there's anyone with the power to kill, it's m-"
"Look me in the eyes and see if I'm truly lying," challenged Gilbert coolly.
B-Rabbit blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by his unusual persistence. But he had dared challenge her...
So she did. She stared at his calm face; into those twin pools of molten gold that stared back with unwavering resolve.
And somehow... She knew.
He wasn't lying.
He really could kill Oz.
Maybe even her.
And if it ever came down to it, he would do it without hesitation.
There was more to this man than she thought...
B-Rabbit's gaze transformed into a heated glare, and she fumed silently for several seconds before grabbing the gun barrel and pushing it away. "I hate you," she growled. "I really, really hate you."
In contrast, Gilbert simply rolled his eyes while holstering his gun, but didn't remove his hand from it just yet. "Well, what do you know, the feeling's mutual. Now, do we have an agreement or would you like to kiss your precious vessel goodbye?"
She looked at him suspiciously. "Why are you even doing all this, anyway? I though this boy was no longer your concern."
Gilbert let go of his gun and resumed his earlier posture of leaning back against the railing. "...He saved my life twice, that foolish brat... He's managed to survive until now thanks to some ridiculously dumb luck, but if he continues to treat people with that same kindness then he'll never find his sister. The least I can do is aid him in that search so that he doesn't go and get himself killed."
"You're avoiding the question," she pointed out bluntly.
Gilbert remained silent.
"...Why, you ask? I wonder why myself... But the truth is, I already know. He already returned the favour when he saved me the first time, but then he got involved with me again. However, I did the same by bringing him back here even though I could have left him. The scales now appear even so there should be no reason for me to do anymore. But in reality..."
In reality, Gilbert actually owed Oz. The teen was now, in effect, both homeless and an orphan because of one little oversight on the elder's part. He had the power to prevent the tragedy that struck Oz's coming-of-age ceremony, yet he had turned a blind eye to it and told himself it wasn't his problem. He of all people should have known better; looks could be – and had even been proven – deceiving. So why had he forgotten that cardinal truth in the first place when he had spotted those three seemingly unarmed figures dressed in red?
All he could do now was take responsibility however he could. It was unforgivable how too many innocent lives were lost that night, and there was no way to bring back them back...
But there was Oz.
He needed help. He had a sister to find. And if there was anyone more suited to find her, then it was Gilbert.
Because... He had a lead. He had connections. Influence. Experience. He could do things that the ordinary authorities wouldn't ever be able to do, or would want to do even if they could. The situation was within his power.
And he would not turn a blind eye to it again.
"I could even guess what they were planning to do, yet hundreds of people died that day while I remained ignorant to the impending doom. Ultimately that makes me no better than the people I detest. That's why..."
"...At the very least," he mumbled to himself, "I need to make it up to him and repent for my unforgivable mistake."
His voice may have been quiet but it did not go missed by B-Rabbit, who eventually managed to figure out the implication of Gilbert's words since she was able to see all of Oz's memories and connect them with things she had picked up from her conversations with the elder man, and for once she was actually considerate enough not to comment on it. She may have been something akin to a monster but being in a human's body and having access to all thoughts and emotions gave her quite a good idea as to what effect that incident had on a human being.
B-Rabbit made a note not to share this particular part of their conversation with Oz.
Instead, she steered the conversation back to its original direction and said, "Okay, well, what does all that have to do with me not being allowed to-"
"Because I can't afford you attracting too much attention," snapped Gilbert, apparently having resurfaced from his deep thoughts. "Now stop asking me stupid questions and switch with Oz. I need to talk to him as well."
B-Rabbit sighed before closing her eyes. "Ever heard of the word 'please'?" she grumbled, after which the tattoo started to fade. In less than five seconds it had completely vanished and when Oz opened his eyes again, they were his usual emerald shade. He waited until the slight post-possession dizziness subsided and during this short time, B-Rabbit shared the memories of the conversation that just took place. When she was done, Oz could not help but gape at Gilbert.
"Y-you're... Going to help me find my sister?" he asked in disbelief.
Gilbert looked away out of awkwardness. "Don't make me repeat myself," he mumbled.
"But... Why?" questioned Oz hesitantly with a mix of heavy curiosity and mild suspicion in his voice.
Gilbert sighed deeply, before turning his gaze back towards Oz once more. He regarded the teen for a while, who simply stared back with a puzzled expression. Eventually Gilbert realised that his method of approach to this issue was probably incorrect, and that indeed, it was quite odd for him to suddenly declare something like that considering what they'd been through.
He also realised that perhaps he should have apologised earlier as well, both for his oversight and for trying to take Oz's life unjustly... But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to say it. Besides, a mere apology wouldn't justify the circumstances that Oz was now in. No, if Gilbert truly wanted to express regret over his mistakes then he would have to remedy the situation to the best of his ability.
And that was the intention behind his actions – the answer that Oz was seeking.
The answer he could not bring himself to utter.
"...The truth is that I think I might have a lead as to who took your sister..."
Oz inhaled sharply. "A-are you... Serious?"
Gilbert nodded. "It's not really much to go by; in fact it's a little farfetched, but it's all we've got."
He then watched the blonde's expression turn into one of deep contemplation – brow furrowed and eyes staring off into the void – while he subconsciously bit his lip, losing himself in thought for a moment.
"A lead on who took her...! That's a huge thing considering the fact that I couldn't even get a proper look at those people, while anyone else who could was wiped out. There is hope... But I wonder what Gilbert managed to find that the authorities couldn't, and when? There had been no helpful clues left behind at the site of the wreckage..."
"...Look, I'm not forcing you to accept my help or anything," started Gilbert, regaining Oz's attention once more. "I'll leave the choice to you. You can either walk away right now while taking the lead with you. You'll also have my word that we won't cross paths ever again, if that's any assurance, unless of course you ever happen to get in my way somehow."
The younger couldn't help but shudder lightly upon the almost traumatic memory of facing off against a more ruthless Gilbert in the cramped, gloomy attic of his old home. 'Get in my way'? He certainly hoped not.
"But, on the other hand..."
"...I'm going to find out who took her, why, and then save her somehow."
"He has determination, but his choice of words clearly indicates that he's not even sure how to go about tackling this problem."
"Where will you go? Your father is dead and according to the information given to me, your uncle – the only relative you had – went missing years ago. You don't even have a plan or any resources, do you?" he said, staring at Oz pointedly. The boy blinked, before understanding slowly dawned upon him.
"Oh... So that's what he..."
But then...
"Where exactly is he going with all this...?"
"Judging by the lead, I can assure you that the authorities aren't going to be able to find her because this is something out of their hands... I'll explain why later. And honestly, don't take it the wrong way but why would they bother when the entire family has been virtually wiped out?"
Oz shook his head. "No, it's alright. I... Understand what you mean."
"If that's clear then you'll understand the reason behind your second option."
Gilbert stopped for a moment to take a deep breath. He couldn't quite fully believe he was going to say this, and there was no turning back once the words were out of his mouth...
"No. There's no other way. I said I'd take responsibility."
"...Working on the other side of the law has its advantages in situations like these. Things are done quicker, and most of the time you get better results. That's why, you'll have a better chance at finding your sister if I'm involved. Naturally that means you'll be staying here with me, since it might be quite a while before we find her."
The elder paused briefly to allow all that he had said to sink in for Oz, before continuing. "However, it's not going to be as simple as that. You're going to have to live inconspicuously from now on. For starters, this will definitely have to go-"
And as he spoke, he emphasised his point by reaching forward to lightly grab Oz's silky braid and gave it a gentle pull, before allowing it to slip past his loosely closed fingers.
"-before you can even step one foot outside, so I hope you've never been too fond of your hair. It makes you stand out far too much. The last thing we need is to have the authorities on our tail hindering our search, because there will be people looking for you for quite some time. By now you've probably been declared missing as well, and depending on how long it takes to find your sister, you might even be declared dead. That means you may not be able to go out very often, or at all even, depending on the circumstances. But if you're willing to accept all that..."
Gilbert trailed off and averted his gaze once more. He had gotten his point across so no need to practically spell it out. Now the rest was up to Oz.
The more Gilbert progressed with his explanation of the blonde's second choice, the more Oz began to feel his eyes sting and an uncharacteristic lump form in his throat. He didn't know why exactly he was feeling like this, as well as why now of all times. It wasn't even like him to feel this way so easily.
But... He just couldn't help it...
"Why... Why would you go so far, for someone you don't even...?" he asked quietly after some time, though he was unable to fully speak the question on his mind because all of a sudden it became hard to speak. Nevertheless, they both knew that Gilbert understood what Oz was trying to ask perfectly well.
The elder of the two regarded the younger for a while. He was unable to read Oz at first from the indiscernibly collected expression he wore, which made him feel a strange sense of unease the longer he kept his gaze focused on the other. Such an expression simply wasn't normal, especially for such a question under such circumstances and for a boy of that age.
But Gilbert's lingering gaze eventually discovered something subtle that gave him away. The boy's fists were clenched tight by his sides making them almost unnoticeable in the darkness of the room, and their quivering was so faint that it was almost non-existent. Yet they were not quivering like that because of a lack of overpowering emotion, he soon realised.
They quivered lightly because there was too much emotion to contain. Too much that it would overflow. But Oz was trying to hold it in. Trying to hide it. Trying to mask it.
And had it not been for the moonlight that brought those fists into Gilbert's attention, that impeccable expression would certainly not have been enough for him to understand what exactly was wrong with Oz no matter how skilled at reading people he was.
An act. A shield. A mask...
"...Not everything needs to have a reason behind it, but if you want one that badly, then... You've already deduced the answer to that question," answered Gilbert eventually, turning his head away from Oz.
"I was simply listening to my heart, like you did."
There was a long period of silence after that, during which Gilbert began contemplating whether all this really was a good idea, or even the right thing to do at all. If Oz decided to go off on his own then Gilbert would keep to his word and do nothing to stop him, even if it meant losing his only chance for internal redemption. But he simply couldn't imagine the other finding success if he walked down that path. In fact, he would probably lose sight of himself now that he was a Contractor and eventually turn to crime, which was ironic really because Gilbert was probably the worst person to look after the teen considering how he was far from a saint. If anything, he was probably a bad influence.
And yet, at the same time he was strangely confident that nothing would go wrong from this... partnership, for the lack of a better word.
Gilbert also knew from personal experience that once you were cut off from your lineage and cast out onto the streets, you were completely and utterly on your own no matter how small or grand your family may have been. The authorities won't acknowledge you if you didn't have any power attached to your name, so there really was no hope of getting their assistance in his search. So although he was a Vessalius, it meant nothing if the very Duke himself was dead. And it went without saying that a fifteen year old could do practically nothing on his own.
All those factors had been taken into account, which had led to Gilbert coming up with his offer. It was a win-win situation for them both, but if Oz was still hesitant, as his silence suggested...
Gilbert sighed.
"You can take your time to think it over if you'd like. But for now, why don't you take a bath? You've been like that ever since that night," commented the raven-haired man, glancing down at the torn and bloodied remains of Oz's ceremonial outfit pointedly. "I don't think you want to wear those clothes for the rest of your life so I got you some new ones, but I can't guarantee that they'll be a perfect fit. The bathroom is the first door from the bedroom, and they're in there as w-"
When he began speaking again, Gilbert began to turn back towards the railing while reaching down into his coat pocket with the intention of having another smoke, but he was abruptly cut off when he felt a hand tug his sleeve.
"...Do you... Really mean it...?" asked Oz at last in a voice barely above a whisper, too afraid to speak any louder lest the waver in his voice became apparent.
Gilbert gazed at Oz for a few moments that felt more like minutes. He noticed the boy's fists which were now only loosely closed, as though hesitant, along with his tense shoulders. Then he looked into those shimmering emerald eyes and was slightly surprised at the mixture of uncertainty, fear and hope he saw in them, as well as the weariness etched into that face. Gone was the collected expression he had been trying so hard to maintain; that he had been maintaining perfectly up until this point, but could no longer sustain.
His mask was at the verge of slipping.
"But it's truly amazing how he's held it up for so long... This boy is strong."
Golden locked onto emerald to ensure the sincerity behind Gilbert's next words was absolutely clear.
"I know it's very hard to trust someone that tried to kill you. But I'm sure you also know that no one would joke about something this big. Besides, if you think about it then I've got nothing to gain from keeping you hostage, nor by helping you... So if it means anything to you, then... I'll definitely help you find your sister. You have my word."
And that did it.
The sting in his eyes became too much while the lump in his throat felt like it was burning, and slowly, one after another, tears began to slide down Oz's face in rivulets. But his lips formed a smile; it was small and slightly pained, but it still conveyed magnitudes of genuineness.
"Thank you, Gilbert," said Oz with pure honesty that did not fail to reach the elder despite his quiet voice.
When he noticed his vision blur, he closed his eyes and turned away a little before bashfully wiping his cheeks with the palm of his hands. Yet his smile still did not waver, despite the obvious tone of pain in his voice when he spoke next.
"E-eh? That's weird..." started Oz, forcefully puffing out a laugh as though it would cover the faltering of his voice at each syllable. "W-why am I crying?" he wondered aloud; the question coming out as a whisper more to himself. "The tears... Th-the tears aren't stopping..."
When Oz began to weep, Gilbert had just stared at him at first, shocked and absolutely clueless as to what he should do when all of a sudden the other tried to laugh away his pain. And in that moment Gilbert was hit with such a strong wave of grief blended with nostalgia that for a while it was as though his conscious mind had simply shut down, causing his subconscious one to take over.
"He used to do the exact same thing..."
Without even realising what he was doing, Gilbert's hand tentatively yet steadily rose towards Oz, and his fingers twitched ever so slightly as though inclined, for a moment, to pull back. But at last it simply paused there, hovering just above Oz's head.
"...And I would always..."
Ever so slowly, Gilbert lowered his hand to rest on Oz's head and began to stroke it gently, building up a soothing rhythm that made Oz's eyes turn wide when the gesture finally registered to him.
'You are not alone.'
That's what the hand was telling him.
"It's okay to let yourself go sometimes," said Gilbert quietly. "You've already held out for this long. But everything has a breaking point. Everyone can only bear so much. No matter how strong you are, you'll eventually break if you try to keep things in that aren't meant to be contained."
"He's kept it in this long, yet he's still trying to hold it in when he's clearly reached his limit. That's the same mistake I made all those years ago..."
"So don't force yourself to hold back any longer."
Those magic words seemed to break Oz's resistance completely.
It's over...
His tense shoulders slackened almost instantly and at last his smile dropped. Then with a hitched gasp he began to cry silently at first, keeping his head bent low and his face turned away from Gilbert out of mild self-consciousness at the slightly embarrassing state he had been reduced to. But it was as though the walls he had held up to keep his emotions in simply crumbled under the sheer intensity of the grief he was allowing himself to release, and it wasn't long before strangled sobs escaped him while his entire frame trembled uncontrollably at the effort to remain under some sort of control.
Seeing this, Gilbert slid the hand on top of Oz's head down to the back to gently pull the boy's head against his chest while his other arm seemed to have developed a life of its own as well, for it slowly slipped around his shoulders in a reassuring hold, all in an attempt to provide the blonde with a sense of comforting privacy. Oz immediately buried his face deeper and wrapped his arms around the elder's waist tightly out of instinct just as loud, heart wrenching cries of anguish began to spill past his lips, thankfully muffled by Gilbert's chest.
"You have finally come-of-age, Young Master, and what a fine young man you've become. It seems like only yesterday when I was first introduced to that playful young boy that caused nothing but mischief... This was the first of many milestones that will take place in your life and I'm truly glad I was able to live to see this important day."
"You're a grownup now, aren't you Big Brother? Waah, how cool! Ah, but that doesn't mean you weren't before; Big Brother is always cool and I love him no matter what!"
"I'm proud of you, son."
It's finally over...
Since the night of the incident he had had endured the need to mourn, but now Oz did so without restraint. He cried hard for the loss of the people who he knew and loved dearly; his family and his friends, as well as for the loss of his home that was the keeper of all the memories he made as he grew up with those people. He shed tears over the uncountable innocent lives lost of those people whom he did not personally know, yet they had come just to witness his transition into society regardless.
And perhaps he even cried for himself a little. A certain emotion had begun to plague him ever since his contemplation in the hospital, but he had always managed to push it to the back of his mind. Now, however, it was out in the open along with everything else he had tried to suppress, and Oz cried because he finally allowed the effect of that emotion to wash over him.
Fear.
Fear as to what would happen after all this, fear as to how exactly he would find his sister in this vast country, fear of what would become of her, and also, the fear of being alone... Oz finally acknowledged the existence of those fears, but they did not scare him as much as they previously would have. The beating of the heart other than his own beneath his ear was what gave him the strength to face those fears, and it was also what dulled their effect.
It told him that he would be alright. His sister would be found. She would be alright. And, like the hand on his head, it told him that he was not alone.
When Oz had instinctively clung onto Gilbert, the latter felt his chest tighten with an indescribable emotion upon feeling the familiar-yet-unfamiliar pressure encircling him.
"...Just like him... And yet they're completely different..."
Gilbert's hands... They used to be hands that soothed once. Now they were stained with the blood of many... But they still remembered. They still knew how to console.
And it shocked him.
The fact that his frozen heart still knew the warmth of comfort...
The fact that this boy – this stranger – made him remember age-old forgotten habits...
And yet, this is just the beginning...
By now Oz had seemed to have calmed down. His shoulders still jerked with each sharp intake of breath every now and then, but apart from his muffled sniffles, he had quietened. It was at that point when Gilbert emerged out of his trance-like state and when he began to feel a bit awkward about the situation he was in, now that his uncharacteristic actions had actually registered to him.
"...You're going to soak my bandages at this rate," he grumbled after a while, slowly removing his arms off Oz. But his tone was devoid of any real discontent, for it was simply an attempt at dispelling the awkwardness he was feeling. "I know I told you to let yourself go but it'll be a pain to change them later."
At first there was no reaction from Oz. But after some time Gilbert registered the faint vibrations against his chest as the blonde began trembling lightly once more. This puzzled him greatly at first, but then Oz lifted his head up slightly, allowing Gilbert to hear his light chuckles. Realising that Oz was laughing at his worries, the elder was about to mutter some sort of retort but was stopped when Oz tilted his head up to look at him properly. His tear-streaked cheeks were a bit flushed and his eyes still shimmered, but his lips formed a small but warm smile.
Again, that smile... Gilbert vaguely realised that he was probably going to see it more often from now. He didn't know how to feel about that, but if there was one thing he did know, then...
"I was like him once. I used hold it all in and pretend that I had everything under control. But that was my mistake... The difference between me and Oz is that I broke. There had been no one to tell me it was alright, or that you have to be honest with yourself. And now look at what's become of me... But him? Someone who hasn't even had the notion of revenge cross their mind, someone who can still smile like that despite everything that's happened... Someone like that should not break, because the world needs more people like that."
"Sorry about that," said Oz, ignoring the slight unevenness in his voice, before pausing to close his eyes and take one final, shaky deep breath to recompose himself.
A new beginning.
Gone was the fear, sorrow and vulnerability along with his exhale – the things that would have weighed him down. The turbulent events of the past several days had finally come to an end, but that didn't mean he would remain behind with them. No, he would continue to move forward. The past could not be changed and that fact had spurred Oz' ability to adapt to the present. He did not doubt that he would ever fully accept the deaths and destruction that occurred that night, nor would his heart stop grieving anytime soon. But his consolation was the future, which was not as dark and bleak as his past.
No matter if it was faint; it still had the light of hope illuminating it.
"Alice, B-Rabbit, and Gilbert too... They are my hope."
When he reopened his eyes he added, "I'll help you change them!" while releasing his hold on Gilbert, only to grab onto his forearm instead and began to pull the man along behind him as he headed towards the bathroom, not even giving the elder the chance to voice his protest. "And maybe you could give me a haircut, since I doubt it'd be wise to go to a salon."
"I-I can change them myself!" exclaimed a surprised and slightly irked Gilbert who stumbled at first when his arm was tugged, but allowed himself to get guided nevertheless.
Oz's response was to simply look back with another smile and say, "It's the very least I can do to thank you."
Gilbert continued to stare at Oz even after the boy had turned away, still amazed at how quickly the blonde was able to recollect himself like that. For a moment he wondered if it was simply another act. But then he recalled that peculiar gleam that had been present in those emerald eyes when they reopened just now, and deep down he just knew that no, it wasn't an act.
It was real. The change was definitely real. That strength was real.
Unbeknown to him, a very rare but genuine, soft smile graced Gilbert's features for the first time in many years upon that realisation.
New beginnings certainly weren't easy, especially when one had to carry the burden of their past with them for it was like a thick fog that shrouded the heart, trapping it in its own darkness.
But that certainly didn't mean it was impossible.
Resolve was the light that sparked from within the heart, dispelling the darkness around it despite the prison of fog it was trapped in. It was what lightened one's burdens, giving them the strength to move forward.
So if one truly had the resolve to go on, then new beginnings weren't as hard as they first appeared. This, Gilbert could say with confidence.
After all, this wasn't his first one.
...And with this comes the end of the beginning – their beginning.
But as long as people continue to live, history will continue to be written. Tales will continue to be told.
Thus, this end also marks the start of another beginning; of another tale...
Their tale.
Epilogue will be up in a few days :)