prompt: "Gil/Oz where they have a serious conversation about Oz's father. (Who is a jerk.)"

warning: Oz/Gil, angst, fluffish?

a/n: A drabble that was created from a prompt from thefinalhorseman on tumblr. :) I personally like how this turned out though I'm still attempting to get the hang of characterization for these two; so be a dear and leave a review?

I disclaim Pandora Hearts.


we all fall down


Oz isn't usually one for screaming but at precisely 1:03, Gilbert is awoken by an inhumane sound that he immediately recognizes as his master, a writhing form with blonde hair in the bed seconds before he bolts upright and stares with emerald-stained eyes into unblinking darkness. Gilbert pushes the blankets away from his own body and makes his way over to the shaking form, thankful Alice is still asleep; Oz starts when Gil places a hand on his shoulder before his body crumples completely, hands covering his face and Gil can imagine the tears threatening to overflow.

"Nightmare?"

Oz nods, dropping his hands as they land with a light thump on the comforter; he tries to speak but no words come out, not until he feels the soothing circles on his back and he's thankful for the pitch blackness of the room.

"It was him…he…he stabbed me and laughed and he wanted them to burn me and…and…Gil, he's my father and he wants me dead…"

Gil can tell by the constant shudders and hiccupping breaths that Oz is still lost in the border between reality and illusion, though he knows there's not much of a difference when it comes to that man; he could have killed him, could have put a bullet through the useless and disgusting skull and yet…

"It was just a nightmare," Gil murmurs, continuing his ministrations on the quivering frame until Oz gains some sense of normalcy; when the shaking recedes and the tears that never escaped dry up, Gil pauses and waits for Oz to say something, anything, because he knows it's killing the boy on the inside.

"I don't get it," Oz mutters, eyes traveling to glare at the roof; he has a faraway look in his eyes, reminiscent of when it's Jack who's inhabiting the body.

"Neither do I," Gil responds, hands folded in his lap and his fingers twitching towards the cigarette package near his bed; his body craves the toxins but his mind tells him wait.

"He hates me."

Gil can't deny it this time though he's desperate to; he wants to relieve the burden that's placed on the blonde's shoulder but knows he can't, knows the heavy weights that pile can only be carried by him.

"Ten years ago, when you asked him…when you took the punishment. That time I had to think. I think deep down, I wanted him to disappear. I think I hated him. But in the end, I only wanted his acceptance."

Oz sighed, his hands falling victim to his intent stare.

"Ten years later, nothing and everything has changed. You changed. Ada changed. And yet he hasn't."

While his tone is tinged with sadness and guilt, Gil can catch the underlining relief swelling in the boy's very being; from regaining his bearings after the nightmare or that his father is still as cold as ever, he doesn't know. He wants to comfort Oz, offer him a sense of security that has already slipped by the moment he stepped foot into Abyss, but for once he knows there's nothing he can say to rectify this.

"You escaped Abyss," he replies quietly instead, turning to look at the boy through the shadows. "Something I doubt he could ever do. You don't need his acceptance. If anything, he needs yours."

Oz is silent, contemplative for the briefest of moments before he smiles a small smile, his eyes so green, so bright catching Gil's golden ones.

"Thanks," he says simply and Gil's breath catches in his throat and for one instant, one split second, he has the urge to reach over and hold the boy to his chest while whispering you're safe you're safe you're safe over and over again.

It's as if those ten years never happened.

And he can't help but become flustered when there's butterfly lips on his cheek.

In the other bed, Alice stirs and the rest of the night is silent.