Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I didn’t care whether I lived or died. Until I met you, Lacie.”

*

When the door to the lecture hall opens two minutes before class starts, Jack Vessalius expects it to be the lecturer, but clearly, he expected too much of Rufus Barma, even in this world; there’s no world in which Rufus Barma is married to the love of his life and makes it to the first class of the year for the new students on time.

Apparently, though, there’s a world in which the one pushing open the door is a girl he knows all too well, dressed in a white dress much the same way as she was back then, though this time with dark red tights and a cardigan the same colour thrown over her narrow shoulders to protect her from the autumn wind.

Because this time around it’s not snowing yet.

Her hair is shorter, just reaching her shoulder blades instead of her lower back, the same glossy shine to its pitch black. Her eyes are red again, but this time around, that doesn’t mean anything anymore.

The times have changed.

But Jack hasn’t.

In that moment, he knows even less what to feel from usually. His heart starts beating out of his chest and he feels himself start sweating, his entire body running hot, but physical reactions is everything he has to go by to judge his own emotions, all muddled deep inside of him, not much different from back then.

Is it infatuation? Hate? Love? Anger? Sadness? Happines?

If only he knew.

He thought that he must hold all these emotions towards her; infatuation because she cared, hate because she made him care. Love because she was everything he could have ever wanted – anger because he knew that he couldn’t have her, because everything he ever wanted would be more than he could physically tolerate. Sadness because she died. Happiness because she’s all the way back here.

She looks around the lecture hall, a small smile on her face, pulling her lips together in what seems like a soundless whistle. He wonders if it’s ‘Lacie’ that she’s humming in her mind. Wonders if her voice sounds the exact same as it did back then, on that snowy day, thick flakes falling onto him and the thin, rough blanket he was holding onto for even just an ounce of warmth as if that could in any way help him.

When all the warmth he needed appeared right in front of him. All the warmth that made him want to live.

All the warmth that forced him to live against his own will.

He watches her and she keeps looking at the full rows, eventually spotting-

Him.

Jack freezes in his seat and heats up all the same.

She’s looking at him so thoroughly, eyes the same kind of bright. She shoulders her small tote bag (a John Tenniel illustration of the white rabbit looking at its watch in a tweed suit plastered on the front) and makes her way up the broad steps towards him.

For a moment, Jack considers running away, because so far, running is all he’s done with his life. Well. Tried to do. His family pulled him back and made him stay every single time. He doesn’t know whether he loves or hates it, but it’s not like that matters – because either way, he doesn’t deserve it. Not after the things he’s done to these people in his past life, anyways. One of them, he’s made sure couldn’t get with the love of her life back then, be it unintentional or not, it was still his fault. The other one he almost killed and then left to die for someone else to finish the dirty work, but he would’ve died just because of Jack, anyways. The other, he tortured, made him kill and cry and blamed him for all the things he and Lacie had done.

“Hi! Is this seat still free?” she asks, pointing at the seat next to him, no one between him and the next person over.

“Uh… yeah,” he says, knowing that he probably doesn’t sound very intelligent right now; but that’s not his concern right now. What he’s concerned about is running all the possibilities through his head.

Does she know?

Does she remember?

He knows his family doesn’t remember. If they do, they hide it well, but there’s no way they do – they wouldn’t treat him this well if they did.

Does she remember but thinks he doesn’t, so she’s playing dumb?

If Lacie was anyone else, he’d know, but this is Lacie; fleeting, cold, warm, unpredictable Lacie.

She’s back.

Right in front of him.

His heart is beating so loudly, pumping all the blood into his ears until he can barely hear anything but its rushing sound reverberating through his skull.

“Well? Could you move over, or do you want me to take the seat, so you’d still have to stand up?”

She’s just as direct, but her smile lets him know that she’s not annoyed. He thinks. It’s hard to tell with her, but Lacie isn’t a person to easily get annoyed with things.

“…I’ll move over,” he says, and as soon as he does so, he realizes how wrong that decision is; however, it’s too late to say so now as his body is already moving. Next thing he knows, he’s trapped between some guy who looks way too young to be sitting here, and Lacie on the other side.

She smells of flowers. It’s so distinct that even though he’s barely breathing right now, the smell piercing his nose, more feelings welling up in his chest that he can’t pinpoint.
It makes him mad.

“I'm Lacie. What’s your name?”

She looks as if she’s going to drag him into the field and teach him to dance under the sun just to later drag him to that very field again once the sun has set, under a starry sky, pointing at the twinkling lights in the far, far distance and saying that this is exactly what the abyss looks like.

That it’s full of beautiful golden lights, shining down on her whenever she sees it, dancing with her and the flowers, finally feeling a little less lonely.

A place that she ruined together with Levi and their children.

A place Jack ruined even more, and then tried to do so even more by bringing the world to her, when the two worlds she loved, she loved because they were separate.

Because Jack has hurt Ada and Oscar and Oz, but first and foremost, he’s hurt Lacie.

He wonders if she remembers that, if her conscience saw.

Not that she seems to remember – after all, she just asked him his name.

“Jack,” he mutters, still too stunned to say more. “Just… Jack.”

“Really?” she laughs, “what a dull name.”

The same words as back then – is it to scout him out, whether he remembers, whether he doesn’t remember? Is it just coincidence?

He opens his mouth, unable to form words for a few seconds.

The only thing that’s changed about him is that wearing all those different masks has gotten harder. He manages when he truly has to, when he has to act like he’s fine in front of one of the many therapists the one who’s his father in this world has gotten him, in front of doctors at the emergency room after his sister took him there after he’s either hurt himself or tried to do even worse. But when in front of the people he now calls family, in front of teachers, in front of Lacie?

It's like upon being born, something deep inside of him came apart and buried those masks several feet under. Yet, left him with no means as to realize who he actually is.

“I suppose so,” he manages in the end, and clearly, Lacie, all smile and light makeup, slightly smudged eyeliner and sharp cheekbones and lips he’s never tasted, seemingly finds that amusing.

“Say,” she makes as she leans over to grab an iPad from her tote bag, “do we know each other? You look familiar.”

This time, for the first time in probably forever, Jack realizes what he feels at that statement – fear. Fear that she will remember, that she will remember how twisted he already was, scared that her connection to the abyss allowed her to see everything else he did in her name when this was never anything she wanted.

“I don’t think so,” he answers. Perhaps a little too fast.

“Really? Hmm, maybe I’ve seen you at the supermarket or something. Are you new around here?”

“Not… really?” he responds, gingerly closing twitter, still open on his desktop, revealing the new document he’s made for notes for the class, “me and my family have always lived here.”

“Ah, okay! No, I just moved here! Well we moved here, my brother and I. He found work here, so I was like, well, okay, guess I know what university to apply to, I mean, it wouldn’t have been a problem grade wise, so obviously I got accepted. You like cat memes?”

Ah. She must’ve seen his twitter. Jack runs through all the possible answers he could give to that, all the hundreds of masks, none of them giving him the answer he needs until only a single one remains.

“Sort of. Memes in general, I suppose. My little brother’s fault.”

“Haha, me too! That’s great! Considering you’re here, you also study psychology, then?”

Meaningless small talk. After she’s saved his life and then destroyed it, such meaningless small talk between the two of them.

“Yes,” he says, curtly. Not giving a reason.

“Why?”

Because she always asks for the why, and he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Actually, don’t answer, let me guess! Tried therapy, didn’t work, trying to do it yourself?”

She couldn’t be more off the mark. (Except he doesn’t know why he’s studying it, either.) It must show on his face, considering she looks a tiny bit dejected almost immediately.

“Ah, I guess not, huh. Why, then?”

Again, Jack rummages through all the responses available, only left with one.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t- huh? Wow, okay, you’re weird. I sat down next to a weirdo who likes cat memes. Whatever, I like weirdos, unless you try to kill me. So, like, I'm studying psychology ‘cause I’m interested in it. Human psyche has always interested me. My literature teacher in grade five or so handed me a copy of Freud way too early and it all went downhill from there – not that I agree with the guy. Obviously.”

She seems to shudder at an implication that Jack already knew wasn’t going to be the case – Freud doesn’t answer the ‘why’s' well enough for her. He’s not accurate enough, seems to imply more than he clarifies. He supposes she must not like Nietzsche, either.

“I also hate Nietzsche, but alas, they got me into this. So now I’m just hoping to have a good time. You’re in all other first year classes, too, I suppose? Want my number in case one of us gets sick?”

Aren’t they just jumping a few steps?

Didn’t they also jump a few steps when they first met what must have been over two-hundred years ago, with her crawling below his blanket, ignoring completely how much he must’ve stunk after not having been able to wash himself for days? Cutting his hair, stealing food, making him care.

He can’t find a reason not to.

“I guess.”

“Alright, write it down here.”

She turns her iPad to him, the background of her word document a pastel pink with bunnies, too.

He takes it, because he can’t find a reason not to. The white material feels foreign beneath his fingers. The thought that she touched this iPad, that it was her fingers having grazed it in the same way feels alienating. Off. Wrong.

He’s touched her before, of course – they lived together on the streets for so long. But it was always her initiating those touches, taking his hand to lead him in a dance as if she was the man and he the woman, unafraid to ignore such stereotypes, kiss his cheek in an affection he has always been unable to pin down and understand.

But now, to be touching her iPAd of his own accord?

Oz would probably jokingly call him an ‘incel’ for those thoughts. Maybe he’d be right, in his eyes. He’d be wrong in Jack’s, either way. Because he knows why it feels weird and wrong.

Because he’s dirty and a nobody and as still and chaotic as water, undeserving and unwilling.

Still, he taps on the screen until the keyboard shows up, typing his number down for Lacie because whatever she wanted, he did, and whatever he thought she wanted, he also did.

He reads over it one more time to make sure he’s gotten it right. He has, so he swiftly turns the iPad back to her, the feeling of wanting to get rid of it overwhelming suddenly.

She’s still just as small. When she raises her hands, wearing two large rings, one on each hand, and he sees her dainty fingers, the way her knuckles move below her skin, he knows that she also hasn’t changed.

And that’s a good thing.

For Jack, it isn’t.

“Thanks! I’ll text you after class to make sure you didn’t do the thing of giving me a wrong number just to get rid of me!”

That thought had occurred to him, but he felt like he couldn’t do it. Felt like Lacie would know right away, always able to see through him. The only one to judge him as a person when he can’t even judge himself.

This time, when the door opens, who steps in is indeed Rufus Barma, because how could Jack not recognize him after he was the one to reveal the truth in their past lives?

He does so with graceful, long steps, hair still as red, just shorter this time around, his face looking much older than it did right up until his death the last time. He immediately captures the attention of the students present, everyone looking at him, including Lacie.

Even if he was way too late.

“Well,” Lacie exclaims in a whisper, despite her muted voice still perfectly expressing her honest excitement, “here goes our first class!”

*

A week later, ten minutes earlier this time, the door to the lecture hall still open, Lacie walks right through it. This time, her hair is in a bun, a strand dangling down on either side of her face, the tips of both the bun and said strands still wet. She’s wearing a purple knit sweater this time, white-and-black checkered skinny jeans, and she beelines straight towards Jack.

Since there’s not a lot of people there yet, she just sits down next to him without further ado.

“Say, why do you never respond to my messages with more than a ‘mh’ or ‘yes’ or ‘no’? You’re not one for conversation, are you?”

Always asking for the why.

“I have nothing else to say.”

“Ugh. I’ll psychoanalyze you one of these days. Well, whatever,” she says, this time prioritizing pulling out her phone instead of her iPad, swiftly scrolling through her pictures in search of something. “I found a really funny cat meme yesterday night but I thought I’d just show it to you in person since I was gonna see you today anyways-“

She’s searching for a little while longer – just how many pictures did she add to her phone in a single night, and then holds her phone way too close to his face until he has to pull back to even be able to see what’s on the screen.

It’s a black cat fighting with a shoe sole, biting the top of it, going ‘your sole is mine’. Jack doesn’t know how to tell her how old this meme is but-

It makes it so much harder to hate her. When she’s trying to- make friends with him?

Still. This is exactly what happened the last time around, too. She made him care about her and about life because what is Lacie, if not life, even if she died so early?

“You’re smiling.”

Is he?”

“I’m not.”

“You totally are. You like the cat meme. Admit it.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe,” she gasps, “I’m taking that as a success.”

Jack isn’t sure which way to take it, himself.

Chapter Text

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Gilbert chants as his trembling finger taps on the green button with the phone on it. It takes a while until it even dials, which Gilbert takes as an incentive to reach for the box of tissues on the table and grab one to pat his eyes dry because he’s already been crying for a whopping ten minutes before he even thought of calling someone for help.

Maybe there’s some truth to it when Break calls him ‘pathetic’ and ‘useless’ and whatever else. Maybe there’s not just some truth to it, either.

“Hi, Gil!” comes the chirpy voice from the other end of the phone suddenly, and Gilbert breathes an ultimate sigh of relief.

Okay, yeah, he’s completely pathetic and useless. So easily comforted by the sound of a high schooler’s voice. As if he wasn’t the one to take care of Oz back in the day when they were both still younger.

“Oz,” he sobs, “I have a problem? Can you come over? Please? Are you free right now? If yo have to study, then nevermind-“

“Oh, no, I’m free, it’s just that I didn’t think you are! Don’t you have a mock exam next week?”

“Just about birds,” Gilbert sniffs, “I’m okay with birds. My issue are amphibians, but they won’t be relevant till the graded exams.”

“Alright- wait, are you crying? Oof, okay, give me five minutes, I’ll be right there. I just have to go tell Ada I’m also leaving so she doesn’t forget her key. You know, the usual. Going to Build-a-Bear and everything, I think they’re doing an Animal Crossing collab at the moment, so that’d do it. Can you wait five minutes or do I have to expect you to be dead upon arrival?”

“No, no,” Gilbert makes, reaching for his nose to catch a drop of snot since he can’t exactly blow his nose on call, “it’s fine. I can wait five minutes.”

Can he really, though? He’s not entirely sure.

No, okay, come on, he’s an adult man. He is able to not freak out about this beyond belief. So, he takes a deep breath and quickly says goodbye to Oz so that he can actually get here.

And so, Gilbert waits.

*

Four minutes and thirty- seven seconds later, the bell to his apartment rings, and Gilbert opens the door for Oz whose jacket is still open. If Gilbert wasn’t at rock-bottom right now, he would scold him and close the jacket up himself, except that’d be wholly unnecessary, considering his flat is very warm.

Then again, they probably won’t stay in the flat for too long.

“Geez, Gil, sit down first, okay? Calm down, calm down, did you get rejected? Were you even in love? Who was it? Lottie-“

“No!” Gilbert screeches, immediately jotting that down. He does let Oz shove him towards his sofa, though, all cheery and carrying the exact energy he needs right now.

That’s precisely why he called him over.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, starting to pat Gilbert’s back and handing him another tissue.

“It’s Raven,” he sobs, “I- I can’t find her, she’s obviously not in the flat, I must’ve left the door open when I took out the trash, or like, not turned the key, I know she’s clever enough to open doors by jumping up, I mean you’ve seen that-“

Gilbert vividly remember the screech coming from his toilet when Oz discovered the hard way that not turning the key leads to Raven assaulting him as he’s trying to pee.

“-but she must’ve escaped, and I don’t know what to do. If this was the countryside I wouldn’t be too concerned, but this is the city, and I’m so scared, what if something happens to her?”

All the time, Oz just continues patting his back, but towards the end, he slaps it so harshly that Gilbert lets out a little screech of pain.

However, it does clear his mind a little, and he realizes that maybe he’s indeed being a little bit dramatic. So, he takes a few deep breaths like Oscar used to tell him to. And Jack. Gilbert saw Oz’s big brother during a few too many panic attacks, after all.

“There we go, in and out,” Oz instructs him, “I’ll help look for her with you. I can stay the entire night. My father’s coming over to see Ada tonight, but obviously not to see me, so it’s okay. We can look for her until it gets dark, and then we’ve probably long found her, and then we can invite Alice and eat some good dinner, alright? Come on, calm down and stop crying, and then we’ll go look for her. She can’t have gotten far, right? When did you take out the trash?”

“Fifteen minutes ago,” Gilbert says shakily, taking a few more deep breaths and then properly blowing his nose once more.

Oz is right. First of all, he has to calm down, because he can’t leave his house while crying his eyes out – for that, his social anxiety is way too debilitating.

“Fifteen minutes isn’t a lot, Gil. We’ll almost certainly find her. There, there, it’s going to be fine. Really, you’re giving me an excuse to stay over! We can quickly go to mine, still, right? I’ll grab some underwear and sleep on your sofa.”

“No,” Gilbert makes after very heartbreakingly blowing his nose once more, “you’re taking the bed. I take the sofa.”

In response, Oz just laughs and ruffles his hair properly once,

“No way. You’re the sad one here, keep your bed.”

At least this does make Gilbert feel like he’s doing something useful for Oz. Oz’s father isn’t the nicest. That’s an understatement. He’s a transphobic piece of shit is what he is, except Gilbert wouldn’t say that out loud, not even to Oz, since the topic isn’t exactly an easy one for him; but with Oscar’s and Ada’s support, Oz is good enough with it until he got his custody revoked and his uncle Oscar took it on instead. Hence Jack becoming his and Ada’s big brother, because Ada chose to go with her little brother.

However, Zai still insists on seeing her specifically, and sadly court did give him the right to do so, and today seems to be one of those days. So it’s good that Gilbert is giving Oz an excuse to stay over, since Oz is very timid about speaking up about this without having another reason apart from his father visiting; which is stupid, because Gilbert would immediately accept him camping out at his even for five weeks in a row.

…Okay, maybe not for exam season, but in that case, he could still get Oz to temporarily live with Vincent, at least.

It takes another few minutes for Gilbert to calm down, but he does, eventually. Once he does, Oz urges him to wash his face (a good decision because there’s dried salt all over his very red cheeks), and then get dressed in something more comfortable than black skinny jeans and a black button up (so he gets dressed in black sweatpants and a black hoodie).

Then, they both slowly set off – it’s only three in the afternoon, so they still have a good three hours before it’s too dark to search, Gilbert thinks. At least yesterday, it was dark at around six, so this should be okay. By now, he’s sure that they’re going to find her.

The problem is just that asking people is always a bit tricky when it concerns black cats – no one but black cat owners can tell them apart, and Gilbert knows very well that Raven doesn’t have any other notable attributes to anyone but him.

She’s really the cutest though. He remembers when he picked her up for the first time at the animal shelter and then just refused to let her go, knowing she’d have to come with him. In fact, he was only there because he was fetching Vincent from his job (unwanted job – Vincent simply had committed too many crimes before those could land him in prison age-wise, so he was made to work in the social sector and ended up choosing the animal shelter. The animals didn’t particularly like him, but Vincent also didn’t particularly like the animals).

He didn’t really have a huge thing for cats, ever. If anything, he was neutral towards them, and sometimes even a little bit scared because of how they’re more unpredictable than dogs. But he just fell in love with Raven – which Vincent somehow seemed incredibly disturbed by, asking whether he wasn’t scared. And yes, Gilbert wasn’t particularly fond of cats, but surely there was no reason to be scared of them to the extent that Vincent seemed to imply he should be; so he filed the cat adoption papers, paid the fee, and came home with a cat three days later, since in between those three days, he still had to buy a carrier, a cat tree, food, all that stuff.

It's been three years ever since then, and Raven moved into his university flat with him when him and Vincent moved out from home in the same month, Vincent moving to the other part of the city, since that was closer to his job.

“Alright, alright, let’s get going,” Oz says, but Gilbert first looks at him. Oz shudders a little, then huffs out a sigh of despair.

“Gil, no one closes their jackets anymore these days, please, it’s not even that cold- hey!”

Since Gilbert was already expecting a reply of this kind, he’s just taken the job upon himself, already getting his hands on the zipper of Oz’s emerald green cord jacket and pulling it all the way up until the boy is glaring at him.

“Stop. I’m not a baby anymore.”

Teenagers also catch colds,” Gilbert says, patting him down a little, obviously avoiding any areas that Oz wouldn’t want to have touched, and then, satisfied with the result, turning towards the door, ready to search for his cat.

Oz seems to at least have given up on the idea that he’d leave the house with his jacket open.

*

“I’m sorry, Gil, I’m sure we can find her tomorrow morning! I’ll help you search! I’ll get up all early and stuff so that I can look for her with you until I have to go to school. I’d skip, but I know-“

“You’re not skipping school to look for my cat, Oz,” Gilbert sighs, and it prompts Oz to laugh, which, in turn, manages to cheer him up a little bit, too.

Not a lot, but a little bit – and that’s everything that counts for now, Gilbert thinks.

“I know, I know, I wouldn’t. I have to work on my project with Echo, anyways, so I can’t let her down quite yet. Alright, alright, get inside, we can’t look for a black cat while it’s dark, no sense in that.”

Gilbert idly thinks that really, he should be the one cheering Oz up right now, considering that his father is probably with his big sister right now, if she’s returned from Build-a-Bear yet (when they were at his to pick up some underwear and a new t-shirt and hoodie for Oz, she wasn’t back yet. Gilbert is just waiting for Vincent’s very tired message about it, since Gilbert is closer to her and could maybe get her to not come to his specific store anymore).

And here he is, being comforted by a high-schooler when he’s already in his higher semesters at university.

“Tell me about your classes or something for distraction-“

“Did you know that meat tastes really good when it’s stolen?”

Immediately, Gilbert whips around to Alice standing in front of them with a small plastic bag. At first, he mentally compliments her for being sensible about the amount of meat she must’ve stolen from her job today, but then he quickly discards that thought because yeah, what the fuck, did he just internally compliment her for stealing?

“Alice,” he comments, “you should stop stealing. We’ve already told you so-“

“There’s a reason I work at the butcher’s,” Alice says with a shrug, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the key for his apartment all by herself before brutally inserting it into his poor door and opening it with a very loud snap that Gilbert does not like the sound of in the least.

“Yes, there is,” Gilbert admits, “and it’s to get a discount on meat. Not straight up steal it.”

“Oh, come on, Gil,” Oz says shoving him into his own flat and watching Alice as she deposits the meat – whatever it even is, Gilbert hasn’t yet been told – on the stove. “We’re gonna cook now, and it doesn’t really matter whether the meat is stolen or not. It just gives Alice a reason not to hang around her lame dad-“

“He’s not lame,” Gilbert sighs, “and that’s the problem.”

Gilbert hasn’t met Levi often. All he knows is that the guy writes smut novels for a living, and that his penname is incredibly stupid. Really, Evil B.? So, anyways, Gilbert will not be reading those smut novels. However Oz does, and so does Break – well, Break listens to them – but Break only really listens to them to antagonize Sharon, because Sharon can’t stand them, because Sharon is too deep into some weird smutty dark fantasy trilogy about elves and contraception. He doesn’t want to know more, to be honest, so he tries his best to tune out the conversation once it inevitably goes there.

“Dad’s fine, somehow,” Alice sighs, “but you cook a lot better, Seaweed head, so get going, get going, you have to cook! I have to get home at one point still, shower and all, or else Alyss will complain about how I smell of minced meat again and I’m not up for the debate, too tired. I’m taking the sofa for now-“

“No, you’re not, because then my sofa will also smell of minced meat,” Gilbert scolds her, pointing at the kitchen table. “You can sit down there.”

“Alrightie, I’m gonna shower though,” Oz says, “I’m kind of sweaty. Should’ve thought twice about going on hormones, I guess. Gil, how long am I going to be sweaty for?”

Gilbert thinks about it very earnestly for some time, being made to approach the stove and therefore the meat on highspeed by Alice pulling him towards it.

“Give it a few years, it should get a little better. But probably worse than it would’ve been otherwise. You’ll survive. Laundry detergent is below the sink now, by the way, in case you need it. I put it there because Raven tried to-“

And at the sole mention of his own cat’s name coming even from his own mouth, Gilbert feels his voice get all choked up. At that, Alice does pull him a little slower, but they arrive at their destination anyways.

“No crying and sobbing, you idiot,” she scolds him, jumping up to ruffle his head for the millisecond that she manages to reach it for. “This great one will even help you chop up the meat! Because I’m so generous today! And now hurry, hurry, I’m hungry!”

When looking at him, Gilbert sees that Oz is smiling, so Gilbert himself also can’t help himself but join. He knows that this is just Alice’s way of trying to cheer him up a little bit and distract him from his missing cat.

The thing is, Raven isn’t a cat to run away at all. She’s never tried to escape from the door before, so frankly, he’s surprised that this time, she seemingly did. To be fair – cats have a pretty good sense of orientation, and if she doesn’t find any food, she’ll probably be back over night. She’s been eating quite a lot recently, anyways, and getting a bit fat, and Gilbert knows that’s bad and all, but she’s just too cute. How could he possibly say no to her?

But yeah, she’s hopefully going to be back tomorrow morning, so Gilbert will just wait it out for now. It’s dark outside now. There’s nothing he can do.

(That doesn’t mean he isn’t worried to hell and back, though.)

“Right, right, we’ll get to cooking, so Oz, you can shower.”

“Yep! Thanks for saying where the detergent is, too, cause-“ he pulls his jacket and sweater away from himself and leans down a little bit to smell his binder, “eww.”

With that, he shrugs off his jacket, hangs it on a kitchen chair, takes the small bag with his clothes, and disappears into the bathroom.

Gilbert looks at the plastic bag in front of him with the meat inside and decides that yeah, cooking is at least going to take his mind off things.

…And if cooking alone doesn’t do that, then cooking with Alice almost certainly will.

Chapter Text

When Gilbert comes into the living room, Oz is already dressed, and he even has shoes on – and Gilbert knows just how much Oz loves sleeping in, or at least sleep up to a point school allows him. But no, he meant what he said – he is going to look for Raven with him before school, and he indeed is up before the sun even started rising just so he can do so.

“Oz,” he sighs, suddenly overcome with so much love for this boy, “you really didn’t have to-“

“I promised, so get over it,” Oz says, walking over to him and giving him a small bonk on the head. He’s really grown up so much, already about to graduate from school next year. It all feels so unreal to Gilbert, personally.

But looking at him like this, voice having gone deep, his face looking a lot more defined thatn it used to some years ago, his emerald eyes still sparkling… it just fills him with so much love.

And sometimes, Gilbert does also feel the same way about Alice. But only sometimes. She’s left yesterday night because she had the early shift where they actively prepare all the meat and lay it out, so she had to get right back up at four in the morning and then commute to the butcher shop once more on a measly five hours of sleep. She did however promise that she was going to help search for Raven, too, in case she doesn’t turn up until later.

“I’ve already checked the entire building again, by the way,” Oz says, “she’s not back yet, so we should probably go looking soon. Do we eat breakfast first?”

“You’re not leaving the house without breakfast,” Gilbert sighs, and Oz just kind of looks at him as if he was very much expecting that answer already.

“Alright, alright, let’s hurry then, the sun is about to rise! Stop looking all depressed, Gil, we’re almost certainly going to find her!”

However, Gilbert isn’t too convinced of this – Raven should long be hungry by now. What if someone locked her up? She’s probably out there starving. Or, even worse, what if she hates him? What if she ran away because she hates him so much that she is now searching for a new owner all on her own? That thought makes the tears shoot right back into his eyes that were already clinging to them when he woke up this morning because he dreamed about her having disappeared, too.

“It’s- what if she hates me, Oz?”

“Are you- oh my God, Gilbert, get a grip,” Oz laughs, bonking his head a few more times. “I’m not going to say something with toxic masculinity vibes as ‘you’re a grown man, stop crying’, but I’ll tell you to stop crying anyways, because that’s a totally ridiculous thought. This cat loves you, and you know it. She must’ve just wanted an adventure and maybe got a bit far from home, alright? Everything’s probably fine and she’s just fine. Maybe she’s been taken in by someone already and they’re looking for her owner. She’s chipped, right?”

“Yes,” he makes, sniffing very dramatically and wiping his snot away with his sleeve – the sleeves of this button-up are white, at least, so no one at university will notice.

…It’s a bit gross though, but his cat is more important to him than the drop of snot on his shirt right now.

“Alright, let’s get breakfast,” Oz says, already traipsing towards the kitchen as his phone suddenly rings.

“Ah, Gil, can you grab me some muesli? It’s Leo, so I should probably pick up.”

Right. Gilbert nods, but Oz just stays in the doorframe to the kitchen once Gilbert has walked past him, then picks up the call.

“Hi Oz,” comes Leo’s voice from the phone, audible enough for Gilbert to understand as he reaches for the (lactose-free) milk in his fridge first thing.

“Hi, Leo! Why the hell are you calling me at five thirty in the morning?”

“The hospital called me. Like, ten minutes ago. Don’t fucking ask me why they would decide to call me at that ungodly time, though.”

That makes Gilbert stop moving, and he quietly puts the milk down onto the counter and then closes the fridge. Oz must see the expression of interest on his face, because he’s already putting the call on loud so that Gilbert can properly listen in.

“Oh, what did they say? Don’t tell me they cancelled on you?”

“No, no,” Leo makes, “they said I can get top surgery basically next week because I was next on the list and the person who was meant to get it broke their leg or something like that, so obviously they can’t have another surgery on top of that. I did accept, because like, that way I get to miss more school than if it was close to Christmas, and it’s not like I need school.”

Yeah. Gilbert isn’t surprised at those words coming from the student who gets straight As in every single subject when he does four instead of the usual three, because of course he would.

Gilbert and Vincent are the only ones Elliot introduced his boyfriend to officially, in their family. The rest don’t know, which, uh, probably for the better, Gilbert thinks. They would probably be okay with Leo beign trans, since they don’t mind Oz being friends with Elliot, either – however, their own son being gay? That might just be an entirely different story.

“Ah…” Oz makes, “yeah, it’s okay. I’d have accepted if it was me, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Leo says, “that’s why I’m calling. I would’ve also loved it if we could’ve had it at the same time, but- I just want it as fast as possible.”

“No, no, don’t apologize!” Oz says very hastily, and it’s then that Gilbert realizes he can reasonably continue preparing their breakfast if Leo’s on speaker, anyways, so he reaches for a banana and an apple and starts peeling and cutting them into two bowls. Because, knowing Oz, he’d otherwise just eat chocolate flakes, and Gilbert refuses him having an unhealthy breakfast without fruit. “I’d have done the same! Obviously I’m sad, but like, you can still visit me, you know? It’s totally fine. I don’t care that I’m a little sad. I mean, I care, but- ah, you get it. So, next week already, then?”

“Yeah,” Leo answers. “It’s pretty fast, so now I’m just going to rush and get all my exams taken and talk it over with the teachers, but eh. Whatever. Exams are still far away and it’s not like I’m going to get anything less than an A, anyways, so I’m not too concerned.”

“Don’t let Elliot hear that,” Oz laughs, “he’s not with you, then?”

“Nah. Fang and Doug didn’t allow him to stay over yesterday night, ‘cause Noise had a bad day. And that kinda set Lily off, too, so you know how it is. Living in a place where everyone’s mentally ill as fuck just be like that, I guess.”

Yeah, Gilbert does remember the time him and Vincent spent with Fang and Doug back before they got adopted into the Nightray family. They’re nice parents, that goes without saying, and they’re obviously very qualified to work with and raise kids who haven’t had it the easiest in life, but obviously it can still be a bit of a tiring environment at times.

“Ah, that adds up. Tell Echo that I might be a bit late too school today, but I’m definitely still showing up for our project, alright? Gilbert’s cat’s gone missing.”

“I know,” Leo says, and Gilbert nearly stabs his own hand at that, turning around to Oz, whose expression is just as confused.

“…Why do you know?”

“Break posted about it on twitter. They apparently saw you guys outside and figured out the rest.”

At that, Gilbert audibly exhales. Of course it’d have been Break. Break always knows everything. He’s pretty sure that there’s nothing the guy doesn’t know. He’s always on top of things – who’s gotten with who, who failed which class at university, who threw up on who at the last party that Break himself didn’t even go to, and apparently also whose cat has gone missing.

“Right,” Oz laughs, “of course. Well, yeah, I’m gonna look for her with Gil for as long as I can, so just in case we lose track of time, let her know. I’ll do my best to be on time though. Or, well, Gilbert will do the best for me to be on time. I’d happily skip school for this. But no, no, it’s fine, with your top surgery and stuff. That means you can report back to me and stuff! Actually, this might just be really good. That’s great. I can prepare myself and know how much pain I’ll be in after and everything.”

Gilbert hears Leo’s snicker from the phone. Then, he gets back to chopping the apple into cubes, and evenly dividing it between his and Oz’s bowl, reaching for the cornflakes next, because he suddenly realizes that if he adds the banana right away, too, he won’t be able to see just how many cornflakes he’s pouring in because the floor of the bowl will already be covered in fruit.

“I’ll let you know. You can come visit pretty much immediately. Fang and Doug probably won’t be able to, anyways, since Noise really isn’t that good at the moment and stuff. You could bring Lily along, if you want, though. I told her first and she’s equally excited and scared that I’ll die.”

That adds up. If Gilbert was younger than he is now, he’d also be scared that Leo would die. Not that he knows him all too well, to be fair. It’s only been a year of him and Elliot dating, and before that, Gilbert only really spent time with him because of Oz, less because of Elliot. But he cares enough about Leo, either way. Even if it’s only because he’s basically a little sibling, same foster parents and all.
But no, Leo is very nice; he gets good grades, and sure, he teases Elliot a lot, but Gilbert can see that they’re good for each other.

“I will!” Oz says, “I’ll take her. Send me the date and time and stuff once you know for sure, please. If you need anything, I can also bring you stuff, by the way. Alright, Gil’s almost done preparing breakfast, I think, so I better hang up now.”

“It’s cool. I should call Elly about it, anyways. He’s gonna be even more freaked out than Lily. Watch him come here in like, fifteen minutes to throw stones at my window and serenade me like Romeo.”

…Somehow, Gilbert can imagine that – it’s a very angry serenade that's playing out in his mindscape right now, but he can imagine it.

“Yep, yep, I bet he will,” Oz laughs, too. “See you at school!”

“Bye!”

Then, Leo hangs up, and Oz lets his arm sink. For a moment, Gilbert expects him to be dejected at the new and sudden information that him and Leo won’t get to share a room and have their top surgery on the same day, but he meant what he said – he absolutely understands it, and seems to just kind of accept it.

“Well! Leo’s first then! Ugh, do you not have any red fruits at all?”

“Alice ate all the raspberries I got yesterday.”

“Alice,” Oz makes, “when I catch you, Alice.”

Then, Oz turns to him with absolute sparkling eyes, though.

“You do still have some of those choccy flakes though, right? Can I get some of those?”

With a sigh, Gilbert opens the cupboard again and gets the chocolate flakes out, too.

“Don’t overdo it, Oz.”

“No promises.”

“Oz.”

“No promises, Gilbert.”

*

“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen a black cat like that, either,” the woman in the door says, and Gilbert feels his heart drop a little more. “I’d recognize such a large cat, but I only saw the neighbour’s cat, but he’s a lot smaller. I’m sorry. Do you want to give me your number in case I see her?”

“Yeah,” Gilbert says, trying his best not to choke on his words and break out into tears again. “I can give you my number. Please do message me if you see something.”

“We should hang up posters or something,” Oz says, and puts his hand to his back a little, “we’ll find her.”

“I’m sure you will!” the elderly woman agrees, all smiles, and that does cheer Gilbert up a little bit. A miniscule, tiny bit, because at this point there’s just a Raven-shaped hole in his Raven-shaped heart.

“Alright, Gil, let’s go home for now. You have to go to class.”

“I know,” Gilbert sighs, and so him and Oz walk back home to his flat the entire way, in complete silence. Oz seemingly knows that comforting him would be in vain, and that’s true; Gilbert can’t be comforted, not until he knows that Raven is safe and sound. If she’s deserted him and doesn’t want to come back home, that’s fine, and he’ll accept it, as long as she’s safe.

But he needs to know that she’s safe.

“I’ll drive you to school,” he says once they arrive, “get your stuff. I’ll go start the car.”

Oz gives a short nod, but doesn’t yet leave.

“Will you be fine actually going to class like this?”

Well. In theory, not, but Gilbert has only missed one single week of classes throughout the entirety of his university experience, and that was when he literally had the flu. Oz always says that it was the best thing that could’ve happened to him, because his coughing at the time was so bad that Gilbert actually stopped smoking to not make it actively worse, and then Oz forced him to stop smoking altogether afterwards. Somehow, he’s survived till now.

…Man, he could really do with a cigarette right now, though. Not that it’d comfort him, but maybe it would. However, that comfort would probably be destroyed immediately upon Oz finding out; and also, Gilbert doesn’t have the time to buy cigarettes now, because his class starts in thirty minutes.

“I’ll be… okay,” he says, but given the look Oz shoots back at him, that doesn’t seem to convince the boy a lot. Well, it convinced Gilbert himself enough to go through with it, probably.

“Alright, I’ll grab my stuff. Do you need anything else?”

“Oh- yeah, my laptop. I’ve got the bag in the car still. I can get coffee at university if I still have the time.”

“Alrightie!” Oz chants, and then runs up the stairs once Gilbert has handed him the key.

He himself walks over to his car, the keys for that in his own hand, opens it, and just stares inside, in the vain hope that Raven somehow got into it, but no.

Obviously she’s not here.

Wow. And Gilbert really thought his depression had gotten better. It’s right back with this, he supposes. It’s fine. University will provide some distraction for a while; not a lot, and not for long, since he doesn’t actually have that many classes anymore and instead has to do a lot more work by himself, but it’s better than nothing. And during the afternoon, he can just concentrate on university projects. And Oz already promised him that he’d spend the afternoon with him and bring Echo along for the project if needed, but that that probably won’t even be necessary, since they’re almost done anyways.

He'll be fine. Somehow.

“Alright, I’m here!” comes Oz’s voice, who’s now shouldering his bag, and holding his laptop in both of his hands, very steadily. Probably because he once dropped his own, and ever since then, he got too terrified of dropping laptops again.

“Yeah,” Gilbert says, “thanks. Can you put it in my bag? It’s on the backseat. I’m gonna start the car. And remember, Oz, the-“

“Seatbelt,” Oz laughs, “I know.”

It takes a bit for this damned old car to start, as always; and it also takes a while for Oz to stuff the laptop into his already pretty full bag (the fact they expect him to use physical textbooks instead of just download them onto an e-reader or something is actually outrageous). It goes quiet again for a bit, but eventually, Oz does speak up again.

“We’ll find Raven, I’m very sure. We’ll hang up posters, and someone would most certainly have seen her, right? We’ll find her Gil.”

At this point, Gilbert isn’t so sure anymore, but the positivity still manages to get a smile onto his face.

“Yeah. Thanks, Oz.”

Chapter Text

“Seaweed Head!”

Well, that surely is a voice Gilbert did not expect to hear from behind him when he steps out of his car, shouldering his black leather bag so that he can still get a coffee before class – he might’ve sworn off the nicotine (for now), but he’s not going to be doing that for caffeine. Ever.

So, with a sigh, he turns around to Alice, who’s standing in front of him in a washed out, fuzzy red hoodie and baggie black sweatpants. She’s not even wearing a jacket. She doesn’t carry one on her, either – seriously, why are kids like this these days?

However, it’s hard to scold her because a second later, she retrieves a thick roll of posters from below her arm, and unrolls them enough for him to see that they have several pictures of Raven on them, her name, and Gilbert’s as well as Oz’s and Alice’s numbers in case Gilbert doesn’t pick up.

He’s only just stopped crying in the car, so swallowing down the tears that threaten to spill out of his eyes again any second is harder than middle school recess. Which was pretty hard on Gilbert.

“Look! I printed posters for you at work! I did it without paying for it, too, so you better thank me for risking my job!”

“Don’t you constantly steal meat anyways?”

Accompanying the voice is a very cold hand being pressed into Gilbert’s neck, and he physically recoils at the god-awful sensation.

“Break!” he screeches, and immediately receives a very amused little chuckle from behind before the guy drapes themselves all over him. Which Gilbert absolutely hates, but when has Xerxes Break ever minded that?

“Well, I do, but it’s none of your business, clown,” Alice makes, tucking some hair behind her ear and instead pointing at the posters. “Have you seen Raven? Because Gilbert’s incredibly annoying about it, so I’d rather we find her very fast. Not like I care, though.”

Gilbert knows she cares, even if she says the opposite. Hell, they’ve been friends for years; of course she cares. She can’t fool him that easily, not anymore.

“Nope,” Break says, then finally lets go of Alice and instead comes to stand next to Gilbert. Gilbert looks him up and down, all the way from his glasses to whatever myriad of decisions in Break’s life led to them coming to university in bright pink crocs with those stupid mini-croc on croc accessories that exist for some godforsaken reason. Seriously, who came up with the concept of making mini crocs to attach to your big crocs? Whoever they are, Gilbert wishes them the worst.
And he also wishes Break the worse for making the creative decision to buy and wear them. To university. Not at home or in the hallways, no, to university, a public place deserving of dignity. And pink crocs with mini crocs that barely hide his fluffy, purple socks, are not a sign of dignity.

“Either way, Alice, You’re not going to get into trouble for printing twenty posters at work if you’ve already stolen like, hundreds of kilos of meat in the past year.”

“I didn’t steal that much,” she says, “I’m pretty good at maths now because of the job, so I’d know!”

Gilbert doesn’t know how to break it to her that knowing roughly how much minced meat is two-hundred gram doesn’t mean you’re good at maths, but he might as well let her believe it before they get into an argument about it. Because, frankly, he’s already had enough for the day, and he’d rather just go to class and get it over with.

“Thanks for the posters,” he says, pointedly deciding to ignore Break for now, because they’re probably going to be bothering him for the rest of the day, anyways. “I’ll just go put them in my car. Just- please don’t risk losing your job over me again? Please?”

“You can’t make me do anything. You can’t make me not do anything, either.” Alice responds, and leans against his car as Gilbert retrieves his keys.

Clearly, Break is noticing that he’s being ignored, though, because he’s suddenly clinging to Gilbert’s arm when all Gilbert wants to do is open his damned car back up.

“Gilbert~ you have to find Raven, alright? I told my little sister, and now she’s aaaaaall worried about her! So worried that she said she’s gonna cry if you don’t find her, okay? So you absolutely need to find your silly little cat-“

“Get off me,” Gilbert makes, shaking his arm as if he was trying to shake off a bunch of annoying flies – to be honest, Break does feel like an annoying fly, most of the time.

“Nooo! I just want to be in your strong arms, Gilbert-“

“I’m going to puke in your face,” Gilbert says, and opens his car with Break still attached to him. Alice obediently throws the posters inside with a grin of success, obviously very proud of herself for having helped in the journey of finding Raven.

…If they ever find her.

Because Gilbert is slowly starting to lose hope.

“I need to get to class,” he says upon closing the car’s door.

“Nah, you don’t. What you need is alcohol, given the look on your face.”

Gilbert doesn’t necessarily disagree with Break – still, that’s something he can’t do, because he’s an adult, and he’s responsible.

“No, I need to learn about Encephalitozoonosis in rabbits.”

“Ence… what?” Alice stutters, but then lights up. “Wait, rabbits? You’re having a lecture about rabbits and you’re not taking me along? That’s a crime. That is a crime, Seaweed Head, and it’s going to land you in prison. You better sneak me the fuck into the lecture.”

At that, Break snickers, dancing around Gilbert to approach her. Alice lets them, even as he grabs onto both of her shoulders and places his chin on her shoulder after leaning down because well, Break is a lot taller than Alice.

“Alice, Alice. Gilbert would never agree to sneak you into one of his precious lectures. Me, however…”

“Are you offering to sneak me in?” Alice whispers at him, as if Gilbert can’t hear them both speak perfectly fine, given that he’s at most like, a meter in front of them.

“Well, it’d be less sneaking than accompanying Gilbert and therefore pulling all attention to me, myself, and I, and then no one would even see you anymore. Gil, dear, how many people are there in your lecture?”

“I don’t know, like- a hundred?”

Then, it occurs to him.

“No!” he shouts, “you’re not coming into my lecture with me, what the hell?”

“Gil, Gil, see, I’m even seeing your name instead of calling you Seaweed Head! Please, please, please-“

Suddenly, Alice leaps at him, which means that Break also leaps at him, and suddenly, Gilbert has a teenager and an entire manchild clinging to him and looking up at him with their round eyes, which works for Alice, but certainly not for Break.

“You won’t understand anything,” he mutters, but Alice’s eyes just grow bigger and more watery.

“Please, I’m sure I’ll get the gist of it, I’m not that stupid.”

“Debatable,” Break says, and then just lets go of Alice, curling up in pain around his crotch. …Alice must have hit him with her elbow. It’s hard for Gilbert to feel any pity for them, though.

“No, you won’t, Alice, seriously-“

“Please?”

*

Five minutes later, Gilbert is walking through the hallways with a coffee in his hands, Alice next to him who’s trying to act the most normal she can, and Break next to her, their mini crocs on big crocs shaking with each step and oh dear, if Gilbert ever gets his hands on Break’s feet while the other is asleep, he’s stealing those shoes and throwing them into the ocean all by himself so that they can never be retrieved.

All in all, nothing about this day is positive, because not only is he trying to smuggle a sixteen-year old into a lecture on an obscure disease in bunnies, not only does he have Break poking his side every now and then behind Alice’s back which makes Gilbert flinch a stupid amount, no – his cat is still missing.

He’s texted Oz earlier when waiting for the coffee to let him know that Alice has brought posters, printed without paying for them, and Oz told him that they can meet up after their respective classes to hang them up, definitely. Apparently his project with Echo is going very smoothly, which makes sense, because Echo is a very diligent worker, and Oz is, too. If he puts himself into it, that is – Oz overall is a good student, but he often needs to be motivated to actually work. Gilbert has been doing that for him most of his life by now, but since Oz also does the same for him, it’s all fair.

“I didn’t think a university would look so much like my middle school,” Alice says, and Gilbert can tell that she’s trying to keep her voice quiet – well, she’s failing.

“It’s nothing special,” Break replies with a shrug, “just another education building. The regular. Just feel bad for the poor future vets being stuck with the psychology and philosophy people.”

“What even isphilosophy?” Alice asks, looking up at Break, who just grins at her.

“Aww, you’re so stupid, it’s almost endearing.”

“I’m going to-“

“Ssh!” Gilbert makes, lightly slapping Alice’s shoulder. “Do you want to be sneaked into the lecture or not?”

“Exactly, exactly, Gilbert gets it!” Break says, already taking Alice by her arm, that false grin still plastered onto his face.

Miraculously, Alice does shut up, but she doesn’t look very happy about having to do so.

So, the three of them walk on, and are only stopped when Gilbert suddenly sees a face he knows. Right, Break did just mention that the psychology ad philosophy students are in the same building as the veterinary science students.

Of course Jack might show up here; Gilbert shouldn’t be nearly as surprised as he is. But seeing Jack in any environment that isn’t Oscar’s dinner table feels weird.
Jack is a quiet guy. Everything Gilbert knows about him is his several suicide attempts, the rough amount of therapists he’s had in his life, and the fact that he barely ever leaves his room and basically only comes out of it for dinner. He has phases where he’s better or worse.
But what hobbies he has is a mystery to him, and Gilbert has been friend with Oz ever since the two of them were still children. He’s known Jack ever since Oz officially moved in with Oscar and him, given that they’re his uncle and cousin and were the best available people to take care of him when his father rejected him. And given just how long he’s known the guy for, he just feels like he should, well, know him better.

But no.

He doesn’t.

At all.

Still, he gives him a polite smile, and Jack just vaguely smiles back at him. Then, his gaze shifts to Alice, and Alice does wave, albeit very awkwardly. There’s something about the way Jack looks at Alice that Gilbert can’t quite pin down. Something like dread, like he hates her, Gilbert doesn’t know either. If he had to pin it down to an expression, ‘looking as if he’s seen a ghost’ would probably be the best. He looks at Alice like she should be dead but got resurrected mid-way through or something and is just as healthy as before.

“Jack, hey, wait for me!” suddenly comes a voice, and Gilbert turns around to the girl shouting his name. It’s a girl with black hair running after him, dressed in black skinny jeans and a white shirt, much like Gilbert would wear. She’s got a huge grin on her face and just kind of runs at Jack until she smothers him in what’s a hug.

Well. That one’s new.

She does break apart from him after a few seconds in which Jack very awkwardly pats her back; then, she backs off completely, watching his gaze, still locked on him and Alice.
Gilbert also looks at the girl and realizes just-

Just how stupidly similar she really looks to Alice.

Alice herself seems quite taken aback for a bit, but shrugs it off the next second. That’s right, Gilbert thinks to himself, coincidences happen. Some people just happen to look very similar. That’s normal.

Still – the fact Jack apparently does have a friend? Gilbert is a little unsure of whether he’s happy for Jack or concerned for the girl, but at the end of the day, it’s none of his business. He's going to tell Oz later while they’re hanging up posters with Alice, but Oz is probably just going to be happy for him. Which is okay. He probably should be.

“Let’s go on. I have a lecture to go to,” Alice says, and that’s what makes Gilbert realize that they are, in fact, not moving, having stopped to instead stare creepily at Jack and whatever person that friend of his is. Probably a classmate.

“Right,” Gilbert sighs, because Alice does, in fact, not have a lecture to go to, and neither does Break, who’s clearly very keen on accompanying him, too. It’s okay though, because he owes it to her. After all, Alice did risk her job for him, didn’t she?

And if he can pay her back by letting her sit in a lecture that she will most certainly not understand, then he’ll take it.

Chapter Text

Alice reaches for her ringing phone and picks up, mumbling a ‘hello’ through a mouth full of chocolate. Gilbert kicks her below the table because god, this is disgusting, and she’s meant to be here to cheer him up, not to disgust him, right? Even Oz looks mildly icked out, and he talks with a stuffed mouth the entire time, so that means a lot.

“Hi, what do you want? I’m at Gil’s. He’s still crying about his missing cat.”

No matter how much he strains, Gilbert can’t hear who’s talking on the other end of the phone; his gut instinct tells him that it’s Alice’s twins sister, though.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, you can come over, we don’t mind,” Alice continues, and now that’s when Gilbert stumbles a little. Alyss never comes over. He’s seen her a few times, sure, but it’s not like Gilbert goes to Alice’s. They either go to his, or Oz’s, especially considering that none of them (excluding Alice) like her father. Levi is just weird. He’s a fine dad, but he’s weird. Gilbert can’t warm up to him. Alyss doesn’t really leave the house a lot, basically just goes to school and back, so her coming over? Well, that’s a new one. That’s unprecedented for sure.

Oz, too, looks very stunned, hissing out a quick ‘what’, staring at Alice as if she’s about to grow rabbit ears.

“Ten minutes? Yeah, sure, I’ll be there to fetch you downstairs. By the way, Gilbert sneaked me into a lecture. Or well, the clown guy did. I didn’t understand anything, though. Must mean it was a bad lecture.”

It was, in fact, not a bad lecture, and Alice just didn’t understand it because it was a higher semester veterinary medicine lecture and she’s working at the butcher’s, not the vet’s. Alice doesn’t deal with alive animals.

After a few more leisurely exchanged sentences, Alice hangs up, then grabs the chocolate again as if nothing happened.

“What was that?” Oz stutters out, and Alice looks at him, tilting her head a tiny bit, like a bunny that doesn’t understand what’s being said.

“Hm? Alyss is coming over in ten minutes. Dad is driving her. She said there’s something important, so she has to come over, I’m assuming that’s fine?”

“Obviously,” Gilbert croaks out. “It’s just… she usually doesn’t…?”

“Eh,” Alice makes with a little shrug. “It’s Alyss. She’ll have a reason. Maybe work called and I got fired for printing the posters and she’d rather tell me in person.”

Gilbert would very much like it if Alice took her job a little bit more seriously, but he supposes that’s just what Alice represents – stupidity, carelessness, idiocy (and love, okay, fine).

After that, since Alice is clearly more interested in the chocolate than in her sister’s uncharacteristic behaviour, Oz and Gilbert are left to exchange very confused glances at the entire thing. He seriously doesn’t even know where to start. Alyss. Coming to his house. Should he tidy up or something? Well, it’s not like a queen is coming over, she’s just in highschool like Oz, and just a regular girl, but Gilbert sees her so little that it renders him nervous.

The next few minutes pass in near-silence, apart from Alice’s annoying munching, Oz’s frantic typing, probably in another debate with Elliot about their favourite book series, and Gilbert checking his phone every ten seconds just in case someone sends him any news about Raven’s whereabouts, since they just finished hanging up the last posters after already hanging up a lot yesterday afternoon. It’s not impossible that someone already saw the poster and remembered her, right?

At one point, Alice receives a message that Alyss is nearly there, so the three of them get dressed and ready to go downstairs, since Gilbert feels like it’d be only appropriate if all three of them went. Or at least him. But Oz said he’d come with them because he wouldn’t want to be all alone in the flat upstairs, so he joined.

When Gilbert opens the door, Levi’s car is already approaching; it’s hard to miss. It’s literally light purple. Who the hell has light purple cars? Gilbert’s car is black, and frankly, that’s the only colour a car should be.

He pulls up in the parking lot in front of the apartment complex, and Alyss almost immediately opens the door, giving a shy little wave. Gilbert waves back the same manner, but Oz and Alice just rush over to greet her.

“Hi,” she mumbles, “I’ve got a surprise for you. You see, when you sent me a picture of the posters earlier today, I realized- that well, the cat I found-“

Gilbert’s heart stops. There’s no way. There’s no way.

She found a cat.

“Might be Raven. I think it’s her? I’m not entirely sure, it’s just- there might be… an issue?”

“You found Raven?” Oz shouts, grabbing Alyss by her shoulders and shaking her for a bit, then staring into the car behind her. Gilbert follows his gaze and yes, indeed, there’s a carrier inside of it.

He walks up to them as fast as he somewhat can, and Alyss grabs the carrier from inside the car so that Gilbert can see better. Levi remains quiet, and Gilbert gives him one single glance – he’s still in pajamas. It’s the afternoon. There’s an energy drink in his door. He’s… barefoot.

Levi and Break might just get along very well.

Anyways – Gilbert redirects his attention to the arguably more important thing, namely, the cat Alyss found that might be his.

“I found her in the deserted garage next to our house, and I didn’t tell Dad because he’s allergic, but then I saw the pictures and she looked kind of similar, and don’t worry, I’ve been feeding her well, I bought food with my pocket money and stuff- I took good care of them I think-“

Is she using neutral pronouns for his cat, suddenly, or-

She finally pulls the carrier to light enough for Gilbert to see the contents.

First of all, yes, that’s definitely Raven, he recognizes her by the shape of her ears and head and her fur, and her meows that she releases once she looks at him, eyes all big and glinting and god, she’s happy to see him, isn’t she? Tears immediately shoot into his eyes, and only then does his gaze shift lower to the…

Well.

To the three kittens lying in the carrier with her, all still with their eyes closed, one black like her, the other two ginger.

Oh.

“Oh.”

Yeah, Oz perfectly voices his thoughts.

“Well. Raven surely came back. She might not have come back alone, but she surely as hell has come back,” Oz keeps going, looking up at Gilbert, who isn’t very sure how to believe what he’s seeing. Did you know?”

“…No?” Gilbert makes, a little confused noise escaping his throat after the question, too.

“Don’t you study to be a vet?” Alice asks, blinking up at him, and yeah, that’s actually the issue at hand here. He’s very much studying to be a vet, and apparently, he didn’t notice that his own cat wasn’t getting fat, but that she was simply very, very pregnant.

“I- I do, but-“ Gilbert stutters, shifting his gaze from Alyss to Alice, then back to Raven and the three very small kittens either asleep or traipsing around, “I do, but- I thought she was just, uhm, you know? Fat? I thought I was just overfeeding her or something, I don’t even know how she- she’s a housecat, she doesn’t leave?”

“Well, apparently she does,” Oz chuckles, leaning down a little bit to look at the kittens, squeezing past Gilbert to do so, “god, they’re adorable. Did you maybe leave the window open?”

Gilbert does sometimes leave the window open, but they live so high up, Raven wouldn’t jump out of the window-

Someone in the neighbouring flats must have a male cat.

“Did you never get her neutered?” Alyss asks, slowly taking up the carrier and closing the car door, then waving at Levi, apparently as a signal that he can drive off for now.

“No, I- shit, did I not get her neutered?”

Gilbert thinks about it a bit longer and realizes that no, he has, in fact, not gotten her neutered, which is pretty bad. This is so stupid, no, seriously. What was he thinking? Not only did he not notice that his cat is pregnant as hell, but he also straight up forgot to get her neutered – that’s plainly embarrassing. For a vert student, that’s just stupid and embarrassing, and he’d be wanting to die if not for Raven being right here.

“Can I carry her?” he asks, and Alyss does hand her over to him. Oz, still grinning at him, opens the door back up for im, already reaching into Gilbert’s pocket for the keys.

He carries her up the stairs and waits for Oz to unlock the door to his apartment, too, then gently sets Raven and the kittens down, opening the door to the carrier once Alyss closed the door behind her.

“Raven,” he says, tears stinging at his eyes and spilling over as soon as she starts rubbing her little head against his hand once he reaches it out for her. She even swipes her rough tongue over his palm a few times, then stepping out completely to rub against his legs, and god, she missed him.

No, this way, everything makes a lot of sense. After all, sometimes, pregnant cats look for a safe place to have kittens, and simply deem their owner’s place not good enough, ending up in some deep and dark corner. Raven must’ve escaped, maybe not even with that purpose in mind, but then felt that she was going to give birth, and sought for the next best place.

Except Gilbert could have provided her with a dark corner or a box with towels and the like if only he had noticed.

“I’m such a bad cat owner,” he sobs, gently picking her up and feeling her relax in his arms, casually leaning against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Raven, I should’ve known.”

He feels very forgiven, though, given the way she leans into the ear scratches. Maybe it’s alright. Maybe it was really just instincts, and then she couldn’t leave because she was having her kittens. He feels really bad for not having been there for her, but Alyss was, and she looks very healthy to him. Well, as healthy as a cat who gave birth a few days ago can possibly look.

He keeps just holding her, then looks at the small kittens in the carrier.

“Oz, can you get the box I usually keep all the paper trash in and grab some towels?”

“On it!” he says, making the military motion with his hand on his forehead, storming off the next second. Gilbert puts Raven back down, and she does immediately walk back over to her kittens, very gently starting to lick one of them. She’s a good mom, huh?

Gilbert awkwardly wipes away some more of his tears. She’s back. She’s actually back.

Alyss is still standing awkwardly in the door, so Alice ends up pulling her more into the flat, pushing her down onto the sofa, then walking back over to Gil.

“They look so edible.”

“…Please don’t eat them,” Gilbert sniffs, watching as Oz places the box next to the sofa and grabs the three towels he brought, placing them inside as neatly as he can. Then, Gilbert once more very carefully retrieves Raven and places her into the boxes, then handing her the kittens one by one. God, he’s going to sob. He’s so not okay about any of this.
Raven is back home and she’s had kittens and they’re the cutest little things ever.

“You have to give them names,” Alice says, “or else I’ll eat them.”

Even though the joke is so bad, Gilbert still absolutely finds it in him to laugh.

“You’re right. But no, I think you, Oz, and your sister should each name one.”

After all, it was those three who’ve helped find them, right?

“I’m claiming the ginger one,” Alice says, “the ginger one without the white belly. I’m naming him Chicken Wing.”

“We don’t even know if it’s a guy, and why-“

“Because I’m hungry, Seaweed head, shut the hell up.”

Gilbert scowls at her and her superior little smile, but well, he did offer it. So he supposes this is Chicken Wing, now.

“I want a really stupid name, just to torment you,” Oz says crouching down next to the box from when he’s prepared it, still. He points at the ginger and white kitten, though, then places his chin in his hands and smiles down at it.

“They’re all so cute. We should call it… hmm. Scrunkle Blorbo McNightray.”

…Gilbert senses that he’s made a very, very bad mistake in letting Oz and Alice name anything, ever.

Well, he doesn’t want to take his word back now. Chicken Wing and Scrunkle Blorbo McNightray it is, then.

“And you, Alyss?” he asks, trying to smile at her as reassuringly as he can from where she’s still sitting on the sofa, hands folded in her lap, only looking at them every few seconds, seeming as if she’d rather be anywhere else but here. “Sorry those two went first, by the way,” he adds, “it’s only the black kitten left now.”

“…Cheshire?” she more asks than states, but Oz is completely ready to hype her up already.

“Oh, like in ‘Alice in Wonderland’?” he asks, a big grin on his face, “that’s great! Let’s hope he or she doesn’t grin as creepily, though. Used to get nightmares of that cat when I was little.”

Gilbert remembers that. Because he did also have nightmares after they first watched Alice in Wonderland together.

Gilbert sits down next to the box properly while Oz starts striking up a conversation with Alyss about the Cheshire cat; gently taking every kitten from Raven one by one and checking them over, but they seem just fine. Just very young, obviously. Their tiny claws hurt a little. He puts them back with her and watches as she starts fervently licking their little heads. He reaches out to crawl her behind the ears again as she does so.

Yeah, he’s got to make sure all his doors and windows are closed from now on – because not only did Raven manage to escape, no, she also managed to get pregnant. He should ask around with the neighbours as to who of them has a ginger cat. And ask for child support, because he’s a poor student who didn’t choose to have four cats.

Well, once they’re older, he’s sure Ada would love to take one, and maybe Alyss could take another. He’ll see about it.
(If Oz and Ada could take the one with the super long name, Gilbert would be very glad.)

Then, Oz’s phone starts ringing, which makes Raven jerk her head up, so he accepts the call as fast as he humanly can, guilty look on his face and all.

Unlike Alice’s phone, Oz’s phone is always loud enough to understand the gist of a call even when you’re not meant to be listening, so Gilbert quickly realizes it’s Ada.

“So you found the cat and kittens, I guess?” she asks, and Oz nods; he must’ve already told her about I over text while Gilbert wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Yep!” he says audibly, since Ada won’t see the nod, “all four of them! We’ve named them already. What do you think of Scrunkle Blorbo McNightray?”

“…That certainly is a name,” Ada laughs, and then continues, clearly aware of the fact that everythign she says can be heard because she’s been in the room with her brother calling people before, “congrats though, Gil! I hope it feels good to be a father.”

“Seaweed Head being a father sounds like a horrible idea,” Alice mumbles to her sister, then leans over her a bit to have a good look at the kittens. “Ada, they’re really cute!” she shouts so that Ada can hear her, which makes Gilbert lean over the box himself to flick her forehead.

“Quiet,” he instructs, “you’ll disturb Raven and the kittens.”

Alice scowls at him but eventually gives up.

“Fine,” she whispers, “but just for Raven and the small ones. Not for you. I’ll scream into your ear directly once we’re back outside at one point.”

Of course she will. Gilbert is just going to forcefully keep her off himself to the best of his ability.

“Can I come see the kittens in a few days?” Ada asks, and Oz says that she can before Gilbert can even nod to confirm that, but whatever; she can, so who cares.

In fact, right now, Gilbert doesn’t care about anything at all – all he cares about is the fact that his cat is healthy and well, and even if he’s quadrupled his cat count, it’s all good.
As long as she’s back, everything is fine.

Gilbert might just start crying again.

Chapter Text

“Hiii~”

Not the way Gilbert likes to wake up. Not at all the way he likes to wake up, in no universe, in no version of his life. Whatsoever.

And yeah, sure, it might not be the way he likes to wake up, but it surely as hell is effective.

Gilbert shoots up all at once, the blanket falling off him from where he was previously lying on the sofa to make sure that he hears Raven or the kittens meow in case they need anything, because really, he’d just wanted to take a quick nap inbetween classes after that whole spectacle that was yesterday, having found Raven again and everything. Or, well, he wasn’t the one to find her, but same thing.

“Break,” he grunts, already staring into the face looming above his that he nearly bumped into when shooting up in pure shock at the guy. “What the hell are you doing here? Who let you in?”

“I let myself in. Oz is sleeping in your bed, by the way. No more classes for him today?”

“No, he’s- did you spy on him?” he stutters, because Gilbert Nightray is a man who, strangely enough, can excuse Break having once more broken into his flat, but certainly not spying on Oz.

“Nah, I just saw him when I came in.”

The door is the other direction.

Gilbert would rather not think about it – he’s been having an on-and-off headache ever since Raven disappeared because of the stress it caused him, so now he needs to recover.
“You- you drive me mad, do you know that?”

“You love me, really.”

“I do not.”

However, everything Break does in response is crouch down next to the kittens and take out their phone.

“Chill,” Break laughs, “I’m just here to take pictures of the kittens. Emily asked me for them ‘cause I told her about your cat missing and everything. So she got very invested, and then I let her know that Raven was pregnant and had actually had kittens, and you know how she is.”

Gilbert does. Break’s little sister is… well. She’s certainly influenced by her big sibling, that much is sure, but really, Break is doing a great job with her. Always looking out for her, having moved for her already, travelling a lot farther for university than he would otherwise have to, just so Emily can go to a school where she’s not being bullied. He dotes on her like no one else could, not even Sharon, which says a lot. Gilbert is pretty sure Emily is autistic, which Break has brought up a few times if he’s not wrong, and she appears to be very into cats. So, of course, she’d like to see the cats.

Suddenly, Gilbert forgives him for breaking into their flat. If it’s for Emily, then it’s at least a tiny bit valid.

“Do they have names already?” Break asks, and it’s so sincerely, and there’s a little smile on their face as he snaps a few pictures of Raven and the three kittens, that it makes Gilbert sit up and actively teach him about them.

“The orange ones are Chicken Wing, and uh. Uhm. Scrunkle Blorbo McNightray. The black one is Cheshire.”

“I see, I see. Our dearest Oz named little Scrunkle Blorbo McNightray, didn’t he?”

So even Break has already caught on to Oz’s naming schemes, huh? Of course he’d have.

“Ems says they’re very good names for very good kittens. I’m inclined to agree, but the situation would look vastly different if you were to name them, dearest Gilbert.”

Gilbert isn’t homophobic – of course he isn’t, why would he be – but sometimes, Break makes it so tempting to become homophobic, actually.

“Shut up, Break,” he grunts, wearily reaching for his bottle of water on the table in front of him to take a few sips, as Break slowly gets back up, his ugly fucking crocs stuck to his feet (bright green socks with mice on skateboards wearing sunglasses today, for a change).

“Alrightie, alrightie, I’ll grant your wish this time,” they say, stretching once and then turning back to them. “Gotta get back to Ems, I promised to help her with math.”

“You. Help with math?”

“I do what I can, I told her to not blame me if she fucks up her exam,” Break laughs, and then actually, for once in their damned life, walks out of the door with an ominous little smirk and an ominous little wave.

Once he’s out of the door, Gilbert immediately just relaxes, his shoulders slacking, because oh dear, Break is a handful.

He drinks some more water, and warily picks up his phone because of the short notification sound it gives him. It’s Reim, and the message just reads ‘is break with you’, and with the longest sigh of the century, Gilbert opens the chat.

‘He was until a second ago. Came to take pictures of the kittens for Emily’

‘of course,’ Reim answers, ‘thanks. Is he on his way home then?’

‘Yeah, I think so,’ Gilbert texts back, ‘you on the way to his?’

‘Yeah, study session. But I couldn’t reach him for a few hours now and just wanted to make sure it’s still on’

‘fair enough’

That said, Gilbert puts his phone back down. And drinks some more, god, his throat is parched. It takes a bit until he’s recovered from this horrible awaking, and by then, Alice is already barging in through his door that, apparently, Break had not closed. What does the guy want? For Raven to get pregnant again, right away?

(Gilbert has made an appointment at the vet, now, to get her neutered. It’ll still take a while, but he’ll get her neutered before she can have kittens again, he swears.)

“Seaweed Head! I’ve brought more meat from work so you can cook! Or give some to Raven, if you want? It’s good meat, I promise. I made sure of that. Chopped it up myself earlier.”

And well, what can Gilbert say? If Alice keeps stealing meat from her store and risks getting fired, and she won’t let herself be lectured, then isn’t it better if he just cooks it and prepares it so that all the proof disappears?

He takes the bag from her, and is just about to warn her to not wake up Oz, since Oz has also been a bit tired, jumping around to help him here and there, but she’s already disappeared into Gilbert’s bedroom by then, and Gilbert just gives up.

With Alice, a lot of what you do is giving up.

*

“So, we thought that we should hold some kind of surprise party for Jack, because I mean, he does know a lot of our friends, too, and he’s made a friend at university like you said, so I’m trying to get her contact information right now,” Oz says through a mouth full of stew, “I just think it might help him break out of his shell a little bit. I mean, we can’t have that the only thing he laughs at like, ever, is silly cat memes from the early two-thousands! So yeah, me ‘n Oscar ‘n Ada are trying to set up a bit of a surprise party for his birthday. I mean, come on now, we’ve gotta do something about that guy’s depression.”

That much is true. And Gilbert generally thinks that it would be really good for Jack to interact a little more with other people. Gilbert himself is an introvert, so he gets it; he needs a lot of time alone, or with Oz and Alice, because those two don’t really require energy for him. But anyone else, he just kind of needs to use up energy for. But still, at the end, doesn’t everyone crave some social interaction every once in a while? And Jack definitely doesn’t get enough of it. Not even for an introvert.

So, yeah, maybe this is a good idea.

“That’s great,” Alice says, “we can sponsor the meat for it. I mean, you’re gonna have to pay, but eh, whatever. At least it’s definitely going to be good meat in that case. Isn’t that great.”

Oz gives her a look, turning around once more to look at the box with Raven and the kittens, smiling at them a little.

“Yeah, we’d probably buy from you guys. I don’t know, we’ll have to talk it over. It’s still a few months until then, after all. Anyways, Gil, that’s a really good stew. You’ve got to make that more often, actually. You’ve also gotta teach uncle at one point, ‘cause he’s actually starting to get decent at cooking these days. Like, yesterday, he managed to make really good vegetable stir-fry, it was insane like you wouldn’t believe. I think he’s ready for you to try teaching him again.”

Yeah, Gilbert did teach Oscars the basics back in the day – but they couldn’t have gone farther than that, not with the amount of time that would’ve taken Gilbert. So, to hear that Oscar is doing so well on his own, that’s quite nice to hear. Maybe he’s indeed ready for Gilbert to teach him a little more.

“I can try,” he says, “once I’m on break. Maybe I can teach him to make this stew over Christmas or something, I’m sure he’ll manage by now.”

However, Gilbert should make sure to miss an ingredient. Just so that his stew remains better, so that Oz will like it better than Oscar’s at any rate.

…Maybe that’s a bit petty.

“…I’m stuffed. Already,” Alice whines, with a longing look at the stew. “I hate working so long because it makes me so hungry but also I’m so exhausted it makes me not hungry. I’m sorry, Seaweed head. I’ve disappointed you greatly.”

She’s already rubbing her stomach, slipping back into the chair a little, looking all exhausted from eating her stew.

“It’s fine,” Gilbert says, “you, uh… you can take the rest home if you’d like?”

That cheers her right back up, so Gilbert feels like he’s done a good deed.

It doesn’t take long until him and Oz have also finished eating, and of course, until Alice and Oz have deserted him so that Gilbert has to do dishes all on his own. Wasn’t he the one who’s had some hard days recently? Shouldn’t other people be doing the dishes for him so that he can get a break?

And yet, he yields to his fate and goes to grab some Tupperware for the leftover stew that he’ll hand Alice later before she leaves (because otherwise, she’ll just forget about it anyways). Then, he gets to the actual dishes.

When he walks back out, Gilbert is faced with one of the possibly most adorable scenes he’s ever seen in his entire life. Oz is sitting in the catbox next to his sofa, although only with his butt; his legs are propped up on the floor next to it to make place for Raven, who’s just kind of purring… into his butt. Not that adorable, but whatever. His upper body is leaning against the sofa behind him, his eyes closed, breathing regular. Alice is straight up snoring away on the sofa, but Gilbert is still pretty sure that Oz, too, is asleep.

The two orange kittens are actively trying to climb him, both of their eyes open now; however, they’re failing at climbing, and probably just drawn to him because of his warmth.
The black one is next to Raven, cradled beside her belly, and as far as Gilbert can see, Cheshire’s eyes aren’t yet open. Maybe it needs a little more time. They have a vet check-up soon; because Gilbert is not yet a vet, and he doesn’t yet trust himself not to make any mistakes in judgment.

…Especially after he’s not even noticed that his cat was pregnant to begin with.

Quietly, he reaches for a blanket for at least Alice, and watches in despair as he realizes that he can’t cover Oz with one, too, because that would also cover the cats. But if he wakes him, Oz might just be mad because he’s becoming one with the cats or something.

So, everything Gilbert does is take a picture of him and Alice and Raven and Chicken Wing and Scrunkle Blorbo McNightray and Cheshire with his smartphone, and sneakily set it as his background.

Smiling, and at least covering Oz’s shoulders a little bit with the second blanket, as carefully as he somewhat can, Gilbert sits down on the floor next to them – because there’s no more space left on the sofa with Alice spreading herself all over it – and decides to study on his phone.

And maybe studying for university with the people and the cats he loves the most in the entire world is what life is really all about.

Chapter Text

Jack didn’t find a reason good enough to not come. Which in itself is a problem, because not only is Lacie definitely going to be in, well, Lacie’s home, but no; Oswald might also be there. And Lacie might not remember, yeah; but Oswald might.

And Jack has exactly no way of knowing that.

However, if he simply asks whether her brother is also going to be there, just how would that look? Wouldn’t that come across like he wants to do god knows what with Lacie?

So, in the end, unable to come up with a lie to tell her that she would most probably see through anyways, Jack resigned and accepted her invitation to come over. She didn’t specify what for; whether for studying or something else, but Jack supposes that he might as well just try to spend time with her now that she’s alive again.

And if that’s using her, then well; hasn’t he used her enough already? Does a little more really matter at this point?

If he bathes in her light for just a bit more?

The past few weeks with her have been better than anything he could have ever wished for. She still makes him feel just as alive as she did back then, as possibly the only one, no one else able to make him feel this way but her. Even just sitting next to her in the lectures and seminars they share was more than he could have ever hopes for.

So, if he visits her at home, is it really much different?

It’s a regular apartment, kind of small, given how close the neighbouring doors are to each other. The bell resounds from inside when he taps on the small button, a lazy, kind of distorted sound that speaks of a very, very old bell.

Immediately, there’s footsteps, and the door opens just a second later, Lacie standing right in it. Today, she’s wearing just a long, white blouse and shorts; he can only see the very tips of them, though, given how long the blouse really is. Her legs are on full display, her feet naked, and she doesn’t look all too different from back then. Only that she’s older, her hair a little shorter.

“Hi,” she says, “Oswald isn’t here.”

He notices her gaze shifting slightly to the left, just past his eyes; and Jack knows that he just might have made a mistake, that maybe, wearing those earrings wasn’t the best call he could’ve made.

That maybe buying the earrings Lacie gave him on that snowy, snowy day full of blood rain wasn’t the best move, back when he saw them at the flea market. Maybe wearing them wasn’t good.

Something in her eyes changes.

She stares at him, takes a deep breath, and puffs it out in a sigh.

“Whatever, come in first,” she says, voice strangely quiet and monotonous, but Jack follows her inside.

He walks past her as she shuts the door behind them, leaning against it and looking him up and down again.

When she next raises her voice, Jack already knows what she’s going to ask.

“You remember, don’t you?”

He knew. From the moment she opened the door, Jack was able to tell; her demeanor changed, the glint in her eyes much more tired, the few words she spoke said in an accent much older than they should respectively be.

Jack Vessalius takes a deep breath himself. He swallows hard, unable to meet her gaze before he sees hate in it, because if there’s one thing he couldn’t possibly deal with, it’s Lacie genuinely hating him.

Yes,” he says, “I always have. In this life. If there was another, then I don’t remember.”

“I… thought so. It’s… why I called you here. Let’s sit down somewhere first.”

She walks around him, aiming for the table, sitting down on one of the two small, wooden chairs. Jack does the same, unsure of how to carry himself, but it’s all fine. Naturally one of the other ‘Jacks’ inside of him takes over, the masks everlasting and always there, taking on his job when he can’t do it himself. When there’s too many emotions inside of him.
Mechanically, he puts his hands onto the table, battling for the last bit of control he has over this situation, but he’s well aware that he doesn’t have any. Not with Lacie here.
Because if Lacie is there, then she’ll always be in full control.

And he won’t get a single choice.

“I- I don’t know, Jack. I don’t know what to do. It’s all a mess. It’s all just one big mess right now, in my head. I don’t know why it happened, but I woke up and- it was all there. It was all there.”

Part of him wants to comfort her, because she’s not meant to look all broken. She only ever looked like this when she was close to death, knowing that her brother was going to kill her.

Jack isn’t entirely sure he’s ever forgiven Oswald for it. He’s not sure he’s not forgiven him.

Jack doesn’t know, because he’s everyone all at once and yet no one.

“How much do you…?” he starts, and it makes a shiver go through her body.

Once more, it’s answer enough.

“A lot. Most. I think. I remember my death. I remember Levi, and Alice- Oz. I remember Oz, and- I remember his screams. And it’s all blurry, and they’re all distorted and I must’ve already- been practically dead by then, and just somewhere in the abyss- but Jack, his screams, they were so full of pain, what did you do?”

Now, the expression on her face, that’s the one he met her with. That defiant expression, like a child that discovered that it doesn’t have to listen to its parents anymore, after all. Tears pricking at her eyes with how fast she’s blinking, wetness resurfacing in them.

It’s just like back then, when she told him that her brother let her win at chess, and that this is why she ran away, and everything Jack was able to think at the time was spoiled. What a spoiled little girl out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but her bare feet carrying her. Just a white dress covering her frail body.

And Jack can’t help but realize just how much he loves her, even like that, all twisted and broken and crying over a being she brought to life, just a little plush rabbit carrying her melody to him.

Yet, no matter how much he wants to do nothing than bask in all of her light and love and darkness and hate, Jack still has to answer, and as soon as that realization hits him, he’s nothing short of terrified.

“Lacie,” he starts, slowly, “I’m sorry. I truly- I really am. As you know, he’s- he’s my little brother now, I haven’t done anything to him. At all. I keep away from him as much as I can- and I regretted what I did. In the end, I always regretted what I did.”

Because it wasn’t Jack who did it, but ‘Jack’. Because he’s all fucking twisted on the inside, none of his thoughts connecting, one person one second, another person the next.
But he thinks that Jack always regretted it, even if ‘Jack’ didn’t.

After all, he knows that what Lacie wanted was an abyss basked in golden light. Not an abyss resembling the outside world. Because she loved both.

He knows as much.

But does ‘he’ know that?

“I know you regretted it, I felt it- when you became the vessel. I felt it. We shouldn’t be here. Neither me, nor you, nor Gilbert. Leo. Didn’t you say Leo is Oz’s friend.”

Her speech is all tussled up.

“We’re not meant to be here. I know you regretted it, I saw it, but you still did it- we’re not meant to have reincarnated, Jack.”

He knows, that too. He did research for as long as he could, never found a suitable explanation.

“I know,” he whispers, “I’m just so sorry.”

“You hurt him,” she whispers, one of these tears leaving her. “You hurt them all.”

She looks exactly like Alice before she stabbed herself with a pair of scissors.

Only the blood is missing on that white blouse.

“Lacie,” he starts again, tasting her name, “I know. I didn’t- I wanted- for you-“

“I know,” she says, “I know. I saw it, I felt it, goddamnit, I was there.”

He suspected as much. That Lacie, after becoming one with the Abyss, would inherit some of its memory. It makes sense; hence, he hoped that they would never meet.

Just as he had hoped that he had never met her in first place, he hoped that he wouldn’t meet her again, would be spared the pain of wanting to live once more.

“Jack,” she starts again, “how could you have hurt them so much? I never wanted you to hurt them. I wanted to show you- I wanted to show you how beautiful the world is, how did you end up like this? Where did I go wrong?”

‘Jack’ wants to tell her that it wasn’t Lacie who did something wrong.

But Jack knows that she did.

That it was wrong of her to decide to speak to him, ask for his name, make him into a person; that it was wrong of her to appear that snowy day and stay, that it was wrong of her to dance in that rain of blood and show him that sky full of starts that resembled what he later saw in the depths of the abyss, all on his own, but never alone, because there are so many of him.

But the worst thing she did-

“You made me want to live,” he whispers, “that was your only actual mistake. You shouldn’t have made me want to live, Lacie.”

The words linger in the air for a long while before she looks up at him, all furious and her red eyes blazing with that fire inside of her that wants to ask why, why, why, always just why, unable to accept any truth.

“That shouldn’t have been a mistake,” she spits, “everyone deserves to want to live. You deserve to want to live. You’re not meant to just- want to cease to exist.”

“Maybe I was meant to want just that,” Jack says, his voice still quiet. Unable to raise it at her. “Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. That I was destined to die and take it all as it came, and you made me want to not do that. You interfered with something you shouldn’t have interfered with.”

Just because she was there.

“…Why?” breaks out of her, “why would that be wrong? If anything, wasn’t it my fault for leaving? Wouldn’t it have been alright if I had stayed, or if I hadn’t told you to sell your body, or-“

No.

None of that mattered.

Well, it mattered, but in the end, it’s insignificant.

“No, Lacie. I wasn’t meant to live, because if I lived, I’d do such things. Hurt Oz. Oscar. Alice. You. It was always going to be this way. But, in the end, you made me want to live, so I lived. And now I’m living again. Because you’re here.”

“I still can’t tell where you are,” she whispers, “I can’t tell what to think of you. Whether to hate you. Whether to- I can’t tell, Jack. Are you here?”

The words get stuck in his throat. No matter how hard he tries to pronounce them, at the edge of his lips, because Jack isn’t here.

Oz has always been.

Jack hasn’t.

And he still isn’t.

Lacie bites his lip at the lack of response, and then once more, tries.

“Why, Jack? Why did it all turn out this way?”

“Because you made me want to live.”

“But I wanted you to live!” bursts out of her eventually, sounding both angry and exasperated with him. Both of her fists meet the table (just like a child, she’s always just like a child, in her wonder and in her beauty and the way she carries herself).

“I wanted you to live, Jack,” she repeats, more of those tears rolling down her cheeks. “Is that so wrong of me? Is that so selfish?”

His head hurts so much. All those masks, all talking, all trying to tell him what to do, and Jack pushes them all back down into his very own, personal abyss, because he knows he has to stay gathered and focused.

Because this time, he won’t fuck up.

This time, he’ll make sure none of this will ever be repeated again.

“I don’t know, Lacie,” he sighs, “I know I fucked up. This time, I know that. If you want to leave my life again, or if you want me to leave yours, then you… just let me know. We were never meant to be. We were never- we were never good together.”

That much he knows. Because he clung to her and, probably, Lacie also clung to him. Way too much. If she already admitted that she wanted him to live, then that means she was attached to him.

“Jack… I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die, because of you. Before that, I never cared.”

Because they were two souls, lost, one wanting to die and the other knowing that death was inevitable; both wanting the opposite, suddenly, because of each other.
And that never leads to anything good.

Jack is well aware, and he knows that Lacie is, too.

“It’s okay,” he sighs, “we weren’t meant to be, Lacie. It’s-“

Time to accept that. But the girl in front of him isn’t just anyone, no. She’s Lacie Baskerville, and Lacie Baskerville doesn’t do ‘acceptance’.

“No,” she interrupts him, slapping both of her hands against the table and then getting up, pushing herself up with them, glaring at him. “No. There’s nothing that’s meant to be or not meant to be. What fucking- bullshit!”

In swift motions, calculated steps, she walks right over to him, until she stands in front of him, looking down.

Jack looks back up, unsure of what to do, and how to behave, because everything he can do is stare up into her blazing red eyes, such determination in him that it almost makes him break apart.

“Lacie-“ he starts, but she’s already grabbing his hands, fingers tightening around his wrists as bolts of lightning shoot through his entire body and ah, this is what it feels like to be alive, finally he knows again, moving them enough until she’s standing over him, hovering right above his legs, way too close.

It feels like back then, that one time; when she was seated in his lap and indeed, that’s exactly what she does. She sits right down in his lap, their hands still at the sides, her fingers creeping into between his.

Jack doesn’t make a single move.

Just like back then.

He looks up at her, because this is more than he ever deserved, more than he could ever ask for. He doesn’t expect to be loved back, he just expects to be allowed to be around her, except he doesn’t even expect that – because he made too many mistakes. Jack has ruined too many lives to count, and he ought to pay for it, but right now, Lacie isn’t letting him.

“I don’t care for what you have to say. I refuse to accept that we’re just not- meant to be or something. After I was so sad about having to die because of you and now you’re meaning to tell me that this didn’t mean anything at all? To you or me or both of us?”

Her thighs are warm where they meet his, her weight heavy on him, weirdly grounding, until all that’s left is he himself.

He takes in a shuddering breath, feels the way her fingers beneath his spread his hands just a little, pays attention to the trembles going through her body every few seconds, repeatedly.

“You never crossed that line, but if I want to, then I know you do, too.”

She doesn’t have to specify what line she means; not when they’re in the exact same situation as they were the last time when she asked why he never touches her back, when to her, it was so clear that he wants to.

But it was less about him not touching her.

He’s sure it was more about him not letting himself be touched.

The next thing Jack knows is just warmth; her weight leaning forward, his hands automatically letting go of her; at first in shock, then to steady her by her waist before she falls over, leans forward too much for the chair to bear. It’s her shorter, black hair tickling his face, her breath ghosting over his eyebrows and then his nose and then his mouth.

A gentle pressure on his lips, much more timid than one would have thought upon seeing her storm over to him and taking control so easily. Just lips pressing against his own, and Jack doesn’t know what he’s meant to feel, but suddenly, he knows what he feels, and what he wants, and, with one hand staying on her waist, another one sneaks up into her hair, pulls at it first, because he wants her to feel just a bit of the pain that he felt throughout all of those years when she was gone and didn’t come back and then left and never came back before she died, until he pushes her against him more.

And Lacie accepts it.

The rest feels like a blur, but at least Jack knows that it feels like a blur.

Chapter Text

“I’m not panicking.”

“You are.”

“I’m clearly not.”

“Elliot. You’re panicking, and that’s okay, because I’m a little bit anxious, too.”

Okay. So maybe Elliot is panicking, and maybe Leo admitting to it makes it a bit easier to accept that. He lets his shoulders slump and takes a deep breath. He knows that it’s a stupid thing to do this now of all times when Leo has his surgery in three days, but also that’s exactly why he’s doing this. Because his parents would scold him for spending so much time at the hospital when he should be studying, and they wouldn’t excuse it if it was a friend.

Okay, bullshit reasoning.

In fact, Leo has been Elliot’s boyfriend for ages now. And he’s known he’s gay for ages, but he’s never quite managed to make himself tell his family, which is incredibly stupid and upsetting and stressful. It’s just lies piling up and up, and Elliot wants nothing more than to be honest because he was raised to be by those very people.

The issue just lies in the fact that his family doesn’t appear like the most accepting family to him. Ernest might just be fine. Claude? Debatable. Fred? Probably a homophobe. Vanessa? Don’t even get Elliot started, he just knows this girl would call him the f-slur or worse. Is there worse? Elliot doesn’t know if there’s worse.

He’s still pacing around Leo’s small room though, which, yeah, is definitely small. Not even half the size of his own. Leo’s only been at his three times, and only together with Oz. Usually, they just meet up at Oz’s, because no one really likes Elliot’s parents (understandably so), and Leo only has this small room which makes it quite hard for studying. And it’s still bigger than Lily’s at that – she’s got the smallest in the entire house, and it’s basically just her bed, a desk, a small wardrobe, and like half a meter between those so that she can walk.
Basically, it looks exactly like the university student accommodations Leo has been looking into that he might be able to afford in case he gets a scholarship.

“A bit,” he admits out loud eventually, and Leo looks at him, rolling his eyes behind his glasses.

“Finally you admit it, Jesus fucking Christ, Elliot. And now, you sit down, and stop driving me mad with all that stupid running around.”

“I can’t,” he says, “if I sit down I’ll actually start panicking.”

“If you don’t sit down right now I’m actually going to lie to our teachers that the one who stole the sports day medal was you, and not Noise.”

“God, fuck, don’t you dare,” Elliot hisses, and immediately walks over to Leo’s bed to sit down on it.

And starts bobbing his legs up and down, because he’s completely restless and not okay at all.

“This is a horrible idea,” he says, “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t do it. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

Because his family will totally reject him, and he knows it. So why is he still so adamant on telling them? What’s wrong with him? Well, clearly, being gay is the thing wrong with him. In fact, he still thinks that sometimes. It took a lot of Oz’s encouragement and Leo’s snarky comments about how he can’t do any independent thinking to even admit that he’s gay, much less accept it.

It took a while.

He’s coming around, but he feels like his family rejecting him might just make him take a step back.

But on the other side?

God, Elliot is just so done hiding. He’s so tired of it. Tired of saying ‘friend’ instead of ‘boyfriend’, tired of saying he’s going to Oz’s when he’s going to Leo’s just so they don’t suspect it.

God, that’s the next problem – Leo is an orphan. His family probably doesn’t think the highest about people without parents, either. Or well, poor people for that matter. Fred and Claude and his father look down even on their own workers around the house. To be fair, his mom, Ernest, and Vanesa have a much better track record with that. Vanessa still seems really bigoted though, so that’s nice.

Oh, this is all a disaster.

“You are, Elliot. You don’t want to hide anymore. It’s okay. There’s always a solution even if they kick you out and stuff. I mean, you could camp out here. Or at Oz’s. I’m sure Oscar wouldn’t mind, they’ve got enough money to get you through if your parents cut that off, too, okay? Or Alice’s, and I know you don’t like her, but I’m sure Levi would be okay with that. Or Gilbert’s. Or Vincent’s.”

That much is true.

Because… of course, his family rejecting him would hurt.

But that wouldn’t be all of his family, because he still has Gilbert and Vincent, even if they aren’t blood-related. He still has his friends.

“And if they don’t accept you, then… they’re barely family anyways, right?” Leo says, and he even offers him a tiny smile.

Usually, Leo is all snark and sarcasm and criticism, but when it counts, then he’s going to be there for you. He’ll drop all the façade and try to make the best of a situation, because he’s headstrong and stubborn, but that also means Leo always goes on, that Leo doesn’t give up.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Ah.

And there it’s right back. That side of Leo.

But oh, Elliot loves him regardlessly, because of course he does.

“Alright. Then, we’ve got to get ready. You need to get properly dressed. I’m not introducing you to my family as my boyfriend in sweatpants and a grey hoodie with pasta sauce stains on it.”

“It’s the canned baked bean sauce, actually.”

“Leo, I don’t care what sauce it is, get out of it.”

“Ugh. Fine. You want to see me strip, I get it.”

And the guy actually has the guts to not take off his clothes in a normal manner, but make a little dance out of it. Pointedly, Elliot turns around, because he’s not bothering with this today.

(Or rather, Elliot doesn’t want to get horny when he’s in a very panicky state anyways.)

So, to make himself useful and attempt Leo’s admittedly rather poor attempt at seduction – the guy can’t dance for the life of him, maybe Elliot has to teach him one of these days – he turns towards his wardrobe.

His wardrobe is…

Well, a mess, to put it as briefly as one could. Elliot wouldn’t be willing to describe this thing in greater detail, not even for a creative writing assignment.

He combs through tons of loose t-shirts and button-ups, but most of them are either flannel or checkered, which isn’t formal enough for Elliot’s family at all. After more searching, he finds a black button up and a dark purple v-neck t-shirt, which he thinks should compliment Leo’s eyes very well, so that’s what they’re going for.

…However, the most formal pants he can find are grey skinny jeans. With holes in them. Well, that’ll have to do. They’re teenagers. They see teenagers with ripped jeans all the time. His family will survive that.
Ugh, Elliot can already smell the ‘doesn’t he have money for proper pants’ comment that Oz gets every single time he wears his single pair of ripped jeans and he shows up at his house.
Not that Oz cares, but.

“Alright. This is what you’ll be wearing to meet my parents properly this time,” Elliot says and hands the bundle of clothes to a half-naked Leo, only in binder, underwear, and socks now. He takes them with a look that tells Elliot that he’s okay with the choice in theory, but he’d much rather go back to his sweatpants and stained hoodie.

Grumbling still, he changes into them, then presents himself to Elliot.

“Fine like that, Sir Rich-ass-family-that-can’t-be-pleased?”

“Sort of,” Elliot sighs, “put your hair up. You can wear your glasses.”

He knows Leo has a weird complex about his eyes, so wearing glasses is fine, but he should at least try with his hair. What is he, some rat in a big city subway carrying a large, moldy piece of pizza?

Why’s he in love with him again?

“I don’t like putting my hair up.”

“Get used to it, you won’t want it getting caught in your post-surgery binder and that stuff either now, do you?”

That gets Elliot another scowl, but in the end, also a small nod.

“Alright. Get Lily, because you suck at doing anything with hair,” Leo commands, and for once, even though he wants to complain, Elliot has to admit that he’s right.
Elliot couldn’t even give him a ponytail, probably. And Leo can’t do more than the messiest ponytail in the world, either. He only has a few very old and strained hairties, so it’s probably for the best if he just gives up, doesn’t argue, and fetches Lily.

So, two minutes later, Elliot returns to Leo’s room with Lily, and her huge basket of hairties and hairclips that she got gifted both from her friends at school, as well as Fang and Doug, and some that she bought herself with her pocket money.

“Oh no, Lily,” Leo warns, “you’re not going anywhere near me with pink-“

“Don’t worry!” she says, all cheerful and grins and smiles as she approaches him, pushing some books off his nightstand to put the basket down on it and fiddle around in it until she retrieves a purple hairtie and black bobby pins.

And gets to work just a second later, kneeling behind Leo on his bed.

“So, you’re actually gonna try coming out to your family, Elliot? Do you think you’ll be fine?”

“…Probably not,” Elliot sighs, staring at Lily combing through Leo’s hair to force it back as much as she can, given just how uneven the strands really are, and damn, Elliot really has to force Leo to sit through a haircut one of these days.

“Well, it can’t be worse than mine,” Lily says, and Elliot wants to really and sincerely say that yeah, nothing could get worse than abusing your child and kicking her out for saying that she’s trans, but he won’t, because Lily is smiling a little, as if this is meant to be encouragement.

Elliot is going to let her keep that belief for now.

“I mean, you can just live with us if something goes wrong, right? I doubt Fang and Doug would mind.”

“They did already offer,” Leo explains, looking more than just a bit peeved at Lily stroking the last bits of hair out of his eyes for now, which Elliot thinks looks so much better already. Leo has a nice face, and he should learn to show it off more than he does. He looks good, really. Otherwise he might not have fallen in love with him.

Ah, who is he kidding, Leo could look however bad, and Elliot would still want him.

“Did they?” he asks though, remembering the conversation topic and scolding himself for the fact that he prioritized Leo’s godforsaken beautiful eyes over both the conversation with Leo and Lily, as well as over his own panic about the fact that he’s about to come out as gay to his family. That’s news to him – sure, Leo said that he might be able to stay here, but he didn’t say that they straight up offered.

“They did,” Leo affirms, “I just didn’t want to tell you earlier because I’d rather you stay literally anywhere else.”

“You-“ he starts, but drops it, because he’s not going to argue with his boyfriend in front of Lily, actually.

Elliot is better than this.

A snicker is his only answer.

“So, calm down. You have nothing to worry about. Housing wise. And you know I can land a punch if I have to.”

“So can I!” Lily exclaims, “if anything happens, call me up, and I’ll punch your parents!”

Not knowing how to break it to her that she, a twelve-year old girl, couldn't take it up with his brothers and parents, Elliot decides to instead just lean over and ruffle her hair once, disturbing the process of her sticking another bobby pin into Leo’s unruly hair, but at least making her chuckle.

“Thanks, I might take you up on the offer,” he says, but casts a glance at Leo that’s meant to say ‘I’m never taking you up on that offer, ever’, and given Leo’s small chuckle, he seems to know.

It doesn’t take much longer until Leo’s hair is completely done, only one single strand dangling down the side that Lily got out at the very end.

When Elliot looks his boyfriend dup and down this time, what he sees is, in fact, not a rat straight from the New York City subway station, but a fine young man with the most beautiful eyes known to humankind.

No wonder he fell in love with him.

And having fallen in love with him will have been worth it, no matter what his parents are going to say when they learn that he’s more than just a friend.

Chapter Text

Yup. Elliot truly regrets every single step in his life. His father is already scowling when Leo walks in, clearly not having a good opinion on him. Everyone else’s faces are at least neutral. Vanessa is just kind of cocking her eyebrow at them, actually. Elliot would’ve expected her to look the most disgusted with him. But Elliot called this family meeting and him and Lily brushed Leo up so much, so he will definitely be coming out to his family tonight, no matter what.

“Hi,” he mutters, and Leo also looks a little uncomfortable with Elliot’s entire family seated there. He does notice belatedly that Gilbert and Vincent are also there; they don’t usually come to these kind of events anymore, not too comfortable with his family which, understandable; maybe one of his siblings made sure that they’d be here, too.

“Hi, Elly!” Vincent sigh, looking at both him and Leo, “haven’t seen you in a while.”

That much is true. In fact, it’s been weeks, probably. Most days, Vincent just works. Elliot isn’t sure he wants to know what the guy is up to in his free time, actually. He’s seen one too many of his Instagram posts where he’s just hanging out at parties. He’s pretty sure there were drugs in one of the photos. At one point, the indicated location was a sex club and well – that was the moment Elliot decided to unfollow him.

For his own sanity’s sake.

“Hi!” Gilbert also says, “and hi, Leo! Sit down?”

Leo is seemingly glad that at least Gilbert is there, and promptly sits down in the empty chair next to him.

The only other chair available is next to his father and yeah, no, Elliot absolutely refuses. He takes that chair, and gestures at Vanessa – who’s on Leo’s other side – to scoot over a little, which she surprisingly does, just so he can sit down next to Leo.

“So, what’s this about, Elly?” his mother asks, placing her hand in her chin and at least smiling at him. At least she’s trying. His father is still scowling, and Fred’s lips are also twitching a bit. He believes that they’ve probably guessed already. Hence those expressions.

“It’s… uh, I wanted to properly introduce you to Leo today. It’s kind of important.”

His heart is beating in his chest, and it’s barely helped by Leo touching his knee with his own below the table. He feels someone’s hand on his shoulder for a split second, and when he looks over, he sees Gilbert drawing his arm back. Vincent is also smiling at him rather encouragingly, so he knows that at least those two would have his back at any rate.

“We know Leo already, he’s been here what? Three times or something?” his mom asks, and Leo gives a nod – a lot shyer than usual, obviously not very keen on speaking in front of his entire family.

“Yeah,” Elliot makes. He takes a deep breath, and looks at Leo, who does smile at him a bit, too, but the smile drops again when he realizes that he can’t run his hand through his hair like he usually does, not when it’s put up like this. His hand hovers above his own hand, and with a small sigh, he lets it drop back into his lap. “You already know him, but- you know him as my friend, and- well. Uh. Well. That’s not exactly-“

“Ah.”

It’s Vanessa who makes the first little noise as realization clearly hits her, given the small spark in her eyes and the way her lips twitch for a second.

“Yeah,” Elliot says again, “he’s uhm- not just my friend.”

Leo, below the table, does reach for his hand and gives it a short squeeze. It’s okay. He can do this. He has Gilbert and Vincent with him, too.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

Now that gets a sharp inhale out of his parents, Fred, and Claude. Only Ernest is looking at him completely unfazed. Vanessa’s expression isn’t unfazed, it’s just- weird. She eyes Leo up and down.

And then she smiles.

Vanessa smiles.

“I had a hunch,” she says, “it makes sense.”

And that’s all she says. That she had a hunch, and that it make sense. That’s all, and that feels absolutely and utterly unreal, considering the fact that Elliot expected her to easily be the most homophobic in her entire family.

It immediately feels like a weight has been lifted off him. Because apparently at least Vanessa is on his side apart from Gil and Vince.

Which is great.

That’s a very positive reaction.

“He’s a guy,” his mother comments though, blinking a little bit at him. “Isn’t he?”

Leo’s fingers inside of his twitch, as if he’s expecting some major transphobic onslaught, but something tells Elliot that his mother is more on the rhetoric questions side than anything else here.

“Well… yeah,” Elliot says. “I’m… gay. I’m not into girls.”

“Hm.”

Not such a positive reaction from his mother. Not the worst either, though. It could arguably be so much worse. Fred and Claude do kind of eye him like he’s an insect now. Ernest is just sitting there, still completely unfazed, like he couldn’t care less.

“You’re saying you’re gay,” his father starts. “Do you know what that means?”

‘Better than you,’ Elliot comments, but only mentally. He’s not going to be all sassy with his father right now, or else this might not end well.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think so. That means no grandchildren. That’s not what nature intended.”

“Who gives a single shit what nature intended?” Vincent laughs, staring the man down with a gaze that Elliot isn’t sure he’s ever seen on him before, “nature didn’t intend for you old fart to be a homophobe either, yet here we are.”

Ouch.

“Vince!” Gilbert hisses.

“What? Am I wrong?”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence at first, until Elliot’s father looks at Vincent, and only now does Elliot understand what Vincent meant to do.

He didn’t mean to even just upset the guy; he wanted to pull his anger onto him, for Elliot.

He could cry, really. Sure, Vincent is weird, and off-putting, and consists more of depression than whatever humans consist of, but when it comes down to it, he’s a good guy. Very, very deep down, he’s always been, always protective of him and Gilbert and everyone else.

However, Elliot blinks the tears away as much as he can, because crying at just a bit of support would be utterly embarrassing, and yeah; he’s not going there.

“Vincent. Our family adoped you out of goodwill-“

“The fuck you didn’t,” Vincent says with a sigh, “besides, the goodwill would only extend to as far as me not having sucked any dicks, right? Well, bummer, because I totally have.”

At that, Elliot chokes on his own spit. It’s not like he didn’t know, okay – his Instagram posts were obvious enough and all, of course. But it’s just…

Elliot fears that if this continues, his father might just have a stroke any second now, and that wouldn’t be what he wants to have to tell when he tells people about his coming out.

“Dear, quiet down for a moment. Vincent, you, too,” his mother says, “so, this means that you… like boys?”

Okay, she’s at least trying to understand, which is great and all good, but he’s not sure it’s the good kind of trying to understand something.

“Yeah. Only boys.”

His face is burning, and he’s not sure whether it’s because of him just having come out to his family as gay, or whether it’s the fact that Vincent just admitted out loud that he’s given someone a blowjob.

“I see,” she says, “so, you’d consider marrying Leo one day? How long has he been your boyfriend?”

“…A while,” Elliot says, because he prefers to just stay a little vague about this he thinks, “hence I wanted to tell you now.”

“I don’t think you should have,” his father says again, “especially not if this is your boyf-“

“Shut up.”

It takes Elliot a second to realize that it was him who’s said this. He himself. Having just told his father to shut up because he was about to insult Leo in one way or another, and Elliot just-

He just couldn’t take it. He can’t take anyone insulting Leo. It makes something- well something bubble up inside of him. And he just can’t do it.

Leo stares at him like he’s gone mad, too. Which, yeah, no, Elliot doesn’t know why he said that.

And oh, his father looks so properly furious, at him talking back, it’s genuinely scary. Oof. Maybe he’s really broken hell loose when he said he was gay.

“You do not get to talk to me back to me like that, not after you’ve just told us that you’re a f-“

“Jesus, is sucking dick such an issue to you?” Ernest asks, “haven’t we all done it? If Elliot likes to suck dick, too, it’s none of your concern.”

Elliot really and sincerely isn’t sure how to feel about Vincent having given blowjobs before. And Ernest just managed to make this significantly worse, actually.

“No, not all of us have,” Vanessa argues suddenly, clicking her tongue, and then, she stills.

Her, Ernest, and Elliot all look at each other, in a sentiment that can only be described as utterly awkward.

Vincent also looks at them, but none of them look at him because frankly – everyone already knew anyways.

But Ernest and Vanessa?

Elliot was… not aware of this being a thing. Not at all.

All of them look at each other in utter despair for a while longer as their father is stunned into silence. Fred and Claude choose not to comment, his mother is clearly trying to wrap her head around the fact that three of her children are not heterosexual, and Gilbert coughs a tiny bit uncomfortably.

Who speaks up next is Leo – and oh, how Elliot wished he didn’t

“Elliot doesn’t actually get to suck dick though, because I don’t have one.”

Oh, clearly that little shit just wanted to make this situation worse now, didn’t he?

“Leo!” he hisses, but all Leo does is chuckle.

“What? Your family’s already too stunned to speak anyways, might as well add my coming out as trans in front of them on top of that, why not?”

“You’re-“ Elliot starts, but he effectively doesn’t know what to say either. Instead, he just looks at Vanessa and Ernest again.

“Oh well,” Vanessa says. She looks at their two brothers who haven’t said anything about having a gay brother, a bisexual brother, and a lesbian sister, and then at her mother. “Either way, let’s just accept Elliot as he is? And Leo too? When Dad tried to insult him, Elliot looked like he was gonna behead us. So let’s be nice? Get to know Leo first, maybe?”

She even winks at Elliot, except Elliot doesn’t know why. He’s not sure of anything that’s happening right now. Vanessa isn’t usually this nice, not in any way. Something tells him that she should be screaming at him that Leo isn’t good enough for him, that he can do better, that he should pick someone rich at the very least, if it already has to be a boy, but no.

All she’s doing is quietly tell their family that they should just accept him as he is. That everything is completely and utterly fine.

“Agreed,” Ernest says, “if you’re scared of staying here the following nights because of Dad, you can come over to mine. You, too, Vanessa.”

“My flat’s a bit small, but you can come over to mine, too,” Gilbert says, and that’s when the tears do overwhelm him.

“In theory you could come over to mine, but at the moment, you shouldn’t, because we got a delivery too much so now one of my room is full of Isabelle and Tom Nook plushies,” Vincent adds, and yeah, Elliot would rather not stay at his anyways.

“…Thanks,” he stutters, “maybe. I’ll see about it.”

His parents and his other two, not-queer brothers (how the hell are three of the five of them queer anyways, Elliot did not expect that upon coming out to his family today) are stunned into silence by everything that’s just happened, including the development that Elliot wasn’t the only one to come out to them today.

The first to make a move is, again, Vanessa. She gets up and walks over the two steps to Leo and then looks at the poor guy, who stares up at her with a mixture of his usual defiance, but also a slight fear in his eyes.

“You,” she starts, “I may be on your side for Elliot’s sake, but don’t understand this wrong. I still don’t trust you.”

‘Still,’ Elliot comments mentally. As if Vanessa has known him for a lifetime; she’s seen him like what, twice?

“If you turn out to be bad for Elliot, or even worse, bad to him, just know I’ll make your life hell. Even better if you don’t have a dick, because if I kick you in the crotch, I at least can’t make you infertile. I think. I’m not too sure on the specifics.”

Leo just stares at her, unable to say anything to that little speech, as Elliot kind of wants to die a bit.

This is truly the worst possible thing Vanessa could’ve said to his boyfriend.

“And you, Elly, come here, big boy,” she says, and opens her arms, and even though she just said something really horrible to Leo, Elliot can’t help it.

Almost mechanically, he gets up, and falls into her arms. Maybe there’s tears in his eyes again. And maybe they’re not just in his eyes anymore after a few seconds, when he buries his face in her shoulder. Maybe the tears get everywhere when he feels Ernest’s hand on his shoulder, and Leo’s hand grasping his, actually.

He’d honestly expected the worst, and even if his parents’ reaction hurts, he knows that at least his two adoptive siblings are with him, and so are two of his other siblings.

And Leo, of course. Leo is always with him.

(And this time, Elliot will also be with him; this time, he won’t be forced to sacrifice himself for the people he loves. This time, he can just be with them instead.)

Chapter Text

“What the heck was that photo you sent me?” is the first thing Elliot hears when he opens the door to Leo’s room at the hospital, together with Oz.

“Huh? What photo? Oh, the one where I did a peace sign?”

“What peace sign?” Lily asks, and grabs her phone from her pocket, probably to show Leo the photo he sent. If it’s the same he sent to the group chat with Elliot and Oz, then yeah – there was no peace sign in it. Just Leo awkwardly raising his hand for some godforsaken reason.

“Uh…” Leo makes, looking down at the screen, “yeah, you’re right. That’s not a peace sign. Oopsie. Hi, Elliot, by the way. And Oz.”

Great they’re finally getting the recognition they deserve, at least.

Oz waves at Leo all enthusiastically, while Elliot just strolls straight into the room, grabbing the single chair available to take it next to the huge hospital bed, all white bedsheets, Leo wearing only one of those awful white hospital gowns that couldn’t possibly flatter anyone, ever.

“Hi,” he says, “how are you feeling?”

“Better than expected,” Leo says, “just can’t move. I’m really high. I genuinely believed I was showing a peace sign in the picture.”

He doesn’t look good, but he does act better than expected; whether it be him being high, or the surgery just having gone very well. Sure, Leo is even paler than usual, his hair is a mess, there’s big bags below his eyes, and below the gown, there’s a crapload of bandages, but apart from that, he does look okay. Eyes glowing, the regular cocky smile on his face, yup, still his boyfriend.

“That’s so funny,” Lily giggles, “I’ll get it framed by our dads and put up somewhere so we can look at that sorry attempt of a peace sign for ages.”

“Please don’t,” Leo says, then watches as Oz unloads half of his bag onto the windowsill. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Can’t find your homework, but the teachers told me to take it to you in case you feel up to it.”

“Fucking homework,” Leo sighs, “will I never be free? Not even when I’ve just come out of surgery?”

No, not even when you’ve come out of surgery can you escape homework. Elliot would know. He’s broken his leg in middle school once. Yeah, he’d rather not think about it.

Oz sorts out Leo’s things from his own, since he’s clearly gotten them all mixed up at one point; Leo just looks on in utter despair.

“You sure you’re fine?” Elliot asks again, inspecting him from all sides, “did everything go well?”

“No, I lost both my nipples, and I’ll forever be nippleless.”

“What?” Oz shrieks, dropping one of his notebooks, “do we hold a funeral for your nipples? Where have they gone? Can you take them home?”

Those questions are so stupid that Elliot can’t even be shocked at what Leo just said, if he’s honest. Leo, too, seems to be very shocked, though, considering that he immediately clears his throat.

“I was lying. My nipples are still there. For now. They can still fall off at one point, but let’s hope not. And I hope I wouldn’t be allowed to take them home at any rate. I’m not sure I’d want to take my nipples home with me. Not at all.”

“Boring,” Oz says, “if I lose my nipples during top surgery, I’ll take them home with me. Though I’d rather keep them. If I lose them, I’ll get something funny tattooed on them, like frogs, or cartoon eyes.”

Why exactly are those two his boyfriend and best friend? What the fuck did Elliot ever do in his past life that he deserves these idiots around him, if things like Karma exist? Kill his entire family or what? He’d truly love to know.

“I’ll kill both of you,” he sighs, but still reaches out past Lily, who’s sitting on the bed next to leo with enough distance so that she can’t hurt him, to stroke some hair behind Leo’s ears. He’ll probably have trouble lifting his arms for a bit and all, so Elliot wants to help him at least a little.

“Eww. You’re being gay,” Oz comments.

“Eww. Elliot is being gay,” Leo echoes, and truly Elliot is so close to slapping both of them just for the pure goddamn sake of it.

“I know I’m gay,” he comments, “everyone knows now, anyways.”

Lily leans forward and pats his arm a few times as if to comfort him a little. Not that he needs that much comfort – he expected a worse reaction.

“How’d it go anyways?” Leo asks, “talking with your mom again?”

For the past three days, both Elliot and Vanessa had stayed over at Ernest's; she’d offered to stay at Gilbert’s so that he doesn’t have to take care of two more people all of a sudden, but he’d made the very correct point that Gilbert is probably busy enough with his three new kittens already, and that he doesn’t mind them staying over.

Then, yesterday, his mother had come to them to talk to the three of them again, make sure that they’re alright, mostly.

“Okayish, I think,” he says. “It could’ve gone worse. She clearly just doesn’t know a lot about it all, so we did some explaining. I don’t think she’s mad. I think she’s just getting used, to be honest. It’s probably going to be fine with her. I don’t know about dad, though.”

“Fuck your dad,” Leo snorts, “Vincent was so correct in calling him an old fart. Love him for that. Might just marry him.”

“God, please don’t!” Lily shrieks, grabbing Leo by the shoulders and then immediately letting go upon seeing the slightly pained expression on his face – it must not have been that bad to just have his shoulders touched. Elliot makes a mental note on that. That means that in about two to three business days, it’s probably okay to lightly punch Leo’s shoulder for all the comments he’s bound to make in the following few days, hoping they won’t have repercussions just because he’s in the hospital.

…As if this wasn’t a surgery he wanted.

“Please don’t,” she repeats, even firmer now, “Elliot is too good for that. And Vincent freaks me out. Every time he comes to visit Echo and Noise I just- he’s creepy. I don’t like him. Please don’t marry him, Leo.”

“Hm,” he makes, “I’ll see about it.”

“Leo…!” she wails, and instead grabs him by his very much naked thighs instead, just to make sure she doesn’t accidentally hurt him again this time.

Leo does laugh a bit and also attempts to raise his arm, probably to ruffle her hair – and fails. Miserably. He hisses in pain and lets it sink after a few centimeters.

“Ugh. That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

“Noted, I’ll be prepared for being absolutely unable to raise my arms and therefore also unable to pet Raven and the kittens accordingly,” Oz says, scribbling in the air for a few seconds. Why did Elliot end up with the two people closest to him both being transmasc, anyways? Not that he minds. Obviously not. But it’s a funny coincidence.

“But yeah, Elliot, it went okay?” Leo picks their previous conversation back up before he started joking about possibly marrying Vincent, anyways.

“Yeah,” he says, “mom’s really trying her best to understand and talk to dad. I’m doing fine enough. Vanessa isn’t really, ‘cause you know, she’s more attached to dad than I am, and Ernest just… doesn’t give a single damn.”

That makes Leo snort.

“Of course not. Ernest never cares about anything at all. Well, I’m glad then. Very glad you’re not the only queer sibling, also. I mean, all of us are kind of queer over there, aren’t we? Not so sure about Lottie, but-“

“Eh,” Oz interrupts him, “Lottie is definitely bisexual. So yeah. All of you are queer. Anyways, Lily, wanna go grab a snack with me?”

And he says it all with a wink at both Elliot and Leo, making it very clear that he just wants to give the two of them some time alone. Later, Elliot will reprimand him for that; but that doesn’t change the fact that really, he’s grateful for Oz doing this and that really, Oz knows he’s grateful to him, and it’s just Elliot being scared of genuinely expressing gratitude.

“Yes!” Lily says, giggling away a bit again, probably having seen Oz’s wink herself, and having drawn the same conclusion. “I can show you the snack machine, I saw it on my way in with Fang and Doug! They’ve got so much here!”

“Yeah?” Oz asks, already jumping back up from the windowsill towards his back to grab his wallet, “did you see whether they’ve got Snickers? I could vore a Snickers right now.”

“They’ve gotta have those,” Lily says, “can I have a coke? You won’t tell Fang and Doug if I have a coke, right?”

Something tells Elliot that Oz wouldn’t have to tell him, but that Lily would simply become even more hyper than she usually is, to the point they’d notice all by themselves.

“Fine, fine, I’ll buy you a coke. We’ll all keep quiet about it.”

Oz raises his finger to his mouth in a ‘hush’ motion, then reaches his hand out for Lily to take, as if she isn’t already twelve; but she grabs it very gladly anyways, trailing after him as if Oz is some kind of mother bird.

Admittedly, it’s very cute.

And then, Leo and Elliot are left alone in the hospital room – although Elliot does expect Leo to get a roommate latest tomorrow. He’s very worried for the roommate. Well, it’s not like Leo is going to stay in the hospital for longer than two or three days if everything is fine. He’s been awake for roughly three hours now if Elliot is right, so considering that nothing has happened yet, he’s probably going to be just fine. The surgery went well as he said, so as long as his nipples don’t actually fall off when he gets the pressure bandage off in a few days, they’ll probably release him.
Release him. Like this is prison.

“The kids have left the nest,” Leo sighs dramatically, then pats his bed where Lily was sitting, and he even scoots over a bit to make some space for Elliot.

Gingerly, Elliot sits down next to him, very carefully trying not to touch him and everything, because he’s not risking opening the scars or whatever.

“No sex for roughly a month, Elliot.”

Elliot stares at him.

“Why the fuck is that the first thing you say to me? Shouldn’t you be glad you’ve made it out alive and be happy about me being here with you?”

“Pfft. Let’s be real, Elliot, we won’t make it an entire month without sex.”

“Leo, I swear to god, you’re concerned about the wrong damned things.”

…Is he, though? Is he really? Maybe he has a point, and Elliot is just a bit in denial about it.

“No, I’m concerned about the right things. Anyways, I’m happy I’m alive indeed, or else I wouldn’t get to tell you that we can’t have sex for a month now.”

“Well,” Elliot starts, rolling his eyes once and deciding that he’s not going to bother any more with this topic when this is clearly just Leo trying to make fun of him – and besides, there’s sexual activities that don’t involve that much movement, so they can just stick to those until the month is over. “See, Leo, I’m just glad you’ve made it out alive so that I can be with my boyfriend for a little while longer.”

Leo barks out a short laugh, and really, that’s worth all the trouble of being together with him in first place. The times that Elliot makes him laugh mean so much more to him than anything else ever really could.

(There’s none of that depressed demeanor left of him. The one Elliot sometimes sees in his dreams, when he wakes up still thinking about it and then realizing that it was just a dream and nothing more, that no one is screaming above him as he lies on the ground, blood seeping out of him as his sight goes black slowly but surely.)

“Hmm. I suppose I’m happy about being alive to see my boyfriend, also,” Leo says with a smirk on his lips that however then fades into a soft, soft little smile, “and I’m happy my boyfriend has survived his coming out.”

Just for a second, Elliot leans in to kiss Leo’s forehead, nose, and then his lips.

“And I’m happy that my boyfriend is alive so I can torture him with being unable to have sex with him for roughly four weeks.”

Never mind.

Elliot might just not be happy that his boyfriend is alive anymore.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Elliot asks again with a sideglance at Leo, who still looks a tiny bit out of it, very pale, and like he’s going to collapse any second.

“Yeah, that’s usual after we, you know, press around on his chest a few days after surgery to make sure everything is healing up,” the doctor says with a little wink, knowing this comes off as very awful to anyone but them, and Elliot can only respond with a very, very defeated grin. He knows it was necessary, but that doesn’t mean Leo didn’t look absolutely done with his life when they touched his chest to make sure it was healing properly after taking the pressure bandages off, so that he can go home.
Well, Elliot supposes that taking the pressure bandages off itself would make Leo’s head spin a little, considering he’s been wearing them for days and now his body can actually move again.

“He’s going to be fine,” Fang laughs, “he’s not our first top surgery case. We know what to look out for.”

Doug just gives a quick nod, looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else right now than in a doctor’s office stuck with his husband, one of his foster kids, said foster kid’s boyfriend, and the surgeon who gave the foster kid a flat chest.

“That’s good. If any issues arrive, just give us a call, or take him to the ER here, depending on how bad it is. But he should be fine, everything seemed normal.”

“My nipples are still on,” Leo says very tiredly, but with a grin on his face. He does seem very happy though, having gotten to see his new chest for the first time.

Elliot, he – well, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t see what Leo’s seeing. All he saw was a lot of swelling, some scars, some leftover blood, and loads of bruises. It’s fine, Leo’s going to heal up and look all stunning again, but right now, he looks like he’s had a bear dancing on his chest with its full weight or something.

He’s happy for him though. If Leo is happy with his unhealed greenish-bluish Shrek-esque chest, then Elliot will also be happy for him.

“Yep, they did stay on,” the doctor laughs, “there should be no more risk of them falling off. Do you have one or two pressure vests?”

“Two,” Fang immediately answers for Leo, burying his hand in Leo’s hair for a second and ruffling it a bit. “Otherwise, he’d stink to hell and back after a while.”

Truth be told, Leo already stinks now. Elliot’s kind of gotten used it after spending his afternoons at the hospital for the past three days together with him and his new roommate, whose fathers (funnily enough, also gay dads) were also with him the entire time. He was whining a lot. Definitely more than Leo. Generally he was annoying, but Leo said that he’s fine; apparently, they had a blast listening to My Chemical Romance together, Leo got taught how to dye his hair the same obnoxious pink if he ever feels up to it, and they got donuts at the hospitals small café downstairs the day after the other guy’s surgery.

Still.

Elliot would rather not see the guy ever again, considering the pure angry energy that guy channeled.

Leo does have his number.

Elliot would rather he doesn’t for so many reasons, and exactly none of them are in any way related to jealous, no. He just really disliked that kid.

“Good call,” the doctor says, “alright, Leo, you’re good to go then. Just make sure to schedule your check-up appointments at the reception desk before you leave. Good luck with school, too!”

Leo does smile, and after that, the four of them finally make their way out.

*

“Help me lie down. Please. I am so tired, I need a nap, I feel like I’m actually going to die,” Leo laughs once he’s sat down on his bed. He awkwardly leans forward to get rid of his shoes, but Elliot glares at him, then leans down to take care of that himself.

In theory, Leo is allowed to shower now, but after that whole ordeal of getting examined once again, he’s way too done with the world to do that today still. Elliot isn’t free tomorrow, so it’s probably going to be Fang or Doug helping him. Leo seems comfortable enough with them though, so it’s probably fine.

Elliot unties the shoelaces and gets Leo’s feet out of his shoes – at least they don’t stink, because washing his legs and stuff is obviously still possible. His hair, too. His upper body however? Oh dear.

“I’ll help you lie down, but you should probably drink and eat something first at any rate,” he says, “you haven’t had anything since breakfast, have you?”

He tries to put on his stern face and strict tone of voice and everything, which makes Leo roll his eyes.

“No, mom, I haven’t.”

“Hey-“ Elliot starts, but then quickly gives up. Alright. Let Leo call him 'mom'; whatever. He can live with that. What’s much more important is that Leo gets some food and drink into his body and then takes a big fat nap so that he can recover even more.

“I’ll get you something from downstairs,” he says, “just stay seated here. And take care that Lily doesn’t run you over if she comes home in that time.”

“She shouldn’t. She said she was gonna be out with a friend today, which is good, because she doesn’t have that many.”

Elliot nods, and he very much also does agree with this statement. That’s good. Very good, to be exact, because Lily is a menace, and as much as he knows Leo loves her, he does need some calm.

So, Elliot traipses downstairs towards the kitchen in the hope to find Fang or Doug to ask them what they currently have, snack-wise.

However, who he runs into is… well.

“Ah, Elly!”

He wants to die, actually.

“You here for your little boyfriend? That’s so nice of you? He’s fine? Don’t worry, don’t worry, I won’t be long, I’m on my way to work!”

To work.

Elliot is pretty sure Lottie works in the, well – pleasure kind of sector. He’s not entirely sure. He’s not sure he wants to ask or wants to know. Yes, Elliot isn’t a virgin anymore – no, Elliot doesn’t want to know more about sex than he truly has to.

“That’s… okay. I’m here to grab food. Leo needs something to eat. Oh, and something to drink. Do you have any time to show me what you’ve got?”

Lottie checks her phone as she gets into her pair of red high heels, some keychains dangling down on it.

“Uh, not really. I can grab Echo for you. Or Noise. You never know who it is, you know how it is.”

Elliot can only give a confused little nod as Lottie stuffs the phone back into her pocket, then quickly steps into the hallway, walking very precisely, even with only one high-heel on, the other foot still bare. He does respect her, really. Especially for being able to walk like that without tripping.

“Echo! Noise! Is one of you there to help Elly out a bit?”

It takes a few seconds until Elliot hears a door open; it’s all quiet, and the footsteps walking down the stairs are light, so Elliot can already tell it’s Echo this time.

“…Sure,” she mumbles when she reaches them, same expressionless face as she usually wears at school. “What do you need?”

“He wants some food for his boyfriend,” Lottie explains, stepping into her other shoe, and then she’s already gone with a wave of her hand and keys jingling in it.

Elliot is left alone with poor awkward Echo a second later. Well, partly, he is used to her. He does spend a lot of time with her, since Oz is friends with her; and even with Noise sometimes, though usually it’s Echo who’s at school. But he’s seen her around enough to know her also, so he can interact with both if need-be.

He just can’t make friends with them like Oz did. Neither of them is really his kind of person, he supposes.

“We… have some snacks,” she says, “Fang is making dinner later tonight, so him and Doug are out shopping.”

“That’s fine,” Elliot says, “he doesn’t seem that hungry, but he should still eat something. What do you have?”

With a sleeve way too long for her arm, Echo points at one of the cupboards.

“We should have some chocolate and crisps, maybe. Noise texted me to say she’s bought some ice cream, too though. We have some toast over there.”

Hmm.

Ice cream does sound good, doesn’t it? Something non-solid that’s easy and fast to eat? Also, Leo deserves the ice cream.

“Is it okay if he eats Noise’s ice cream?” he asks, “I mean, I can obviously give you some money so she can buy new one if needed. Or I just bring you a tub tomorrow or something.”

“No need,” Echo comments, “she’s already eaten half of it and made herself kind of sick. You can eat however much you want of it with him. I don’t mind, and neither does she.”

Alright. Sounds great.

“Cool, what flavour is it?”

“Strawberry Cheesecake.”

“Alright, that works,” he says, breathing out in relief. Leo can get a little picky about food sometimes, but he knows that if the guy loves anything, it’s cheesecake, so strawberry cheesecake ice cream should be just fine. “Thank you a lot, Echo.”

“Hm. Thank Noise, not me.”

“I don’t see her a lot.”

“Right. I can let her know…?”

“Yeah, thanks, that’d be very nice of you.”

She grabs her phone, probably to text herself for a later point. Elliot has no idea how it works. He’s never asked. He’s sure Oz knows. Well, he’s not Oz.

Once she’s done though, Echo grabs the ice cream for the freezer, and then hands him two bowls and two spoons, then leaves for her room without saying any other word, leaving him a bit stunned for a few seconds. However, Elliot recovers fast, because he has a job to do.

He gets to work, letting some hot water pour over the tub’s sides before he even opens it, because something tells him it’d be too hard to scoop otherwise. When he opens it, it still is hard to scoop, but he manages fine enough.

Once he’s done, two bowls in hand, Elliot goes back upstairs, finding Leo now sitting against the headboard of the bed, phone in his hand.

“Oz sent me a crapton of Evil B. memes.”

Ah, right, those books the two of them have gotten really into recently. Elliot hasn’t had the time for that yet, since he studies more than Oz and Leo combined, but once he’s free of studying, he’ll also read them. He misses the time they all simultaneously got into Holy Knight, except Elliot read it faster than Oz, so he accidentally spoiled him; and then Leo spoiled him because he’d gotten even farther ahead, reading it illegally online.
Well, it wasn’t illegally, Elliot supposes. The series is over a hundred years old by now, so it should very much be public property. Some years ago, they announced a new live action Netflix series, but he hasn’t heard of it since; who knows whether it’s still in the realm of things that might happen and improve his life significantly.

“You can look at the memes later,” he says, instead handing Leo his bowl of strawberry ice cream; he gave Leo about twice as much as himself, but Elliot also didn’t want him to feel lonely if he’d made him eat all alone, so he’s going to have some of Noise’s ice cream, too. “For now, you’ve got to eat, drink some water, and then sleep.”

“You haven’t gotten me any water, though.”

Oh.

Yeah, now that he’s mentioned it, Elliot hasn’t gotten them any water, and he can’t even gently punch Leo for this comment because the guy still looks like a ghost.

“Eat first. I’ll grab you water when I’m done eating.”

“Okay, mom.”

“I swear to god, you drive me up the wall sometimes,” Elliot grunts, but takes up a first spoon of strawberry cheesecake ice cream anyways. Wow, okay, this tastes heavenly. Noise has good taste in ice cream at least.

“I’d rather you pushed me against a wall than that I drive you against one, to be honest,” Leo says with one of those shit-eating smiles that appear all polite at first gaze, but once you look even just a little bit past them, you see just how sly the intention behind them really is.

“Leo. No. You’ve heard the doctors, no proper sex for a month. And something tells me that wall sex specifically is off the limit for even longer than just a month.”

With the most dramatic little sigh, Leo buries his spoon in the ice cream, closing his eyes in something akin to utter disappointment.

“I know. No wall sex for over a month. God fucking damnit.”

Chapter Text

“Why the hell are we even trying to teach you anything?” Oz sighs and oh, yeah, Elliot agrees with that sentiment.

It’s been a week since his surgery by now, and Elliot and Oz have just been trying to catch Leo back up on everything they’ve done at school, since they mostly share the same subjects and everything. It’s been roughly an hour now, and mostly, it was just them teaching Leo about the stupidly complicated marking schemes and things he should keep in mind for the exams themselves; but content wise, Leo is very obviously still ahead of them. Even if you handed him the most obscure Shakespeare poem, he’d probably know it. If you told him to analyze some minor character from Pride and Prejudice, he could probably whip up a perfect essay about them in the span of half an hour.
So, why are they even trying?

“I have no idea,” Leo says, “I told you catching me up on the marking schemes would be more than enough. If anything, it’s going to be me teaching you, especially if you do end up getting top surgery before exams.”

Oz releases a very, very desperate little sigh at that, and then laughs. It’s also a very desperate laugh. He’s clearly not too sure that he’s going to do well.

Elliot himself is going to be fine; he’ll have more studying to do than Leo for sure, but less than Oz. Although Oz does also have the advantage of Gilbert and Break, who’ve both taken literature based subjects at school.

“Well,” Oz mumbles sheepishly, “at least I didn’t take French like Break did. The horror stories he tells us sometimes… so we’ll all probably be fine. I’ll also be fine if I just study when I’m in the hospital. I mean, you didn’t seem so bad, so I’ll manage.”

Yeah, so, Elliot isn’t sure about that. Leo is really good with pain – Oz, however? Not so much.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine enough,” Leo says, giving him a little shrug, then turning around so that he can reach the bag of crisps next to Elliot. Usually, he’d be able to just reach his arm out, but right now, he’s still very limited in his motions. He can reach them out farther than shortly after the surgery, but he still walks around like a t-rex most of the time.
He stuffs some crisps into his mouth and chews them so loudly that Elliot gives him a look. At that, Leo chews even louder, and with his mouth open.
Elliot might just kill him one of these days.

“Ah… let’s stop studying for now,” Oz laughs, “I’m going to be fine if only I actually sit down to study. It’s just been a lot going on recently, hasn’t it?”

“Right, how are Gil’s cats?” Leo asks, and Oz immediately lights up once the topic has been changed.

“Oh, they’re all growing up so fast! We’re going to adopt one when it’s old enough and everything, Uncle’s already agreed, and Ada loves cats, so obviously she’s okay with it too!”
Elliot is glad to hear it.

“Gil’s kind of stressed out, though. Kittens are a handful, after all. Break hung out with him again some days ago, and Reim, too, when Sharon was in a lecture. Break’s really attached to them and he’s threatened to bring their little sister along.”

“Ah, ah, he should. I’ve met her once, she’s a sweet girl,” Leo says, “definitely’s got more sense in her than her big sibling, anyways. Alright, what are we going to do now that we’ve decided to stop studying? Watch awful Holy Knight edits?”

“Oh, please no,” Elliot grunts, because they’ve done that way too often in the past two years. At this point, he’s seen it all; from Every Time We Touch to Shattered by Trading Yesterday, Elliot has seen edits so good and so bad, and he’s grown so tired of it.

“Hm… maybe we should go to Gil’s and look at the kittens. I mean, he’s next door, basically. Though not sure Leo should.”

“I’d be scared that they'd try to climb up his chest,” Elliot says, pushing his elbow into Leo’s side a little bit (very careful to do so low enough that he’s basically just bumping it into his stomach, right below his ribs).

“Yeah…” Leo makes, regret in his voice, “maybe let’s… not.”

For a while, they sit in silence, everyone thinking about what they could do with their newly won time, since Leo knows everything already anyways.
Elliot himself is also trying really hard to come up with something. Oz does have his old Wii still, so they could play MarioKart if so desired. Leo and Oz would probably agree immediately, the issue is just that… does Elliot want to play MarioKart? When that puts him at direct risk of losing against them, and facing whatever humiliation would ensure in response?

Yeah.

Elliot is not going to be the one to bring it up. If Oz or Leo brings it up, he wouldn’t mind, but he’s not going to challenge it.

Especially not after he’s been living with Ernest and Vanessa only for a week and they also keep beating him at MarioKart.

Generally, it’s been okay though. His mom is visiting every two days, and she says she’s still talking to their father about the entire thing. She’s okay with it now. Well, she says that she’ll need some time to get used to the thought, but her kids are more important to her than her preconceptions about gay people, so she’s willing to work on them. Thus, Elliot isn’t mad at her in the slightest.

His father and Fred and Claude though? Oh well.

But it’s fine, because Elliot still has his (apparently bisexual) brother, and his (apparently lesbian) sister. And Vincent, who’s definitely not straight, and Gilbert, who-

Elliot has no idea about Gilbert’s sexuality.

So it’s okay. He’s not alone, he has people who love him – family even – and obviously he also has Leo and Oz and their respective families, if he ever needs more support still.

Honestly, the only issues about his current living arrangement are the facts that him and Vanessa switch with sleeping on the sofa and on the guest room bed, so every second day, Elliot wakes up with horrible backpain, and that none of the three really know how to cook. They’ve been mostly living off takeout and easy dishes, like pasta with tomato sauce. Next weekend, they’ve really ought to try and cook an actual meal.

“We could, uh…” Oz starts, “play a game?”

“We’re only three people, so only video games would work,” Leo throws in, “and I’m not really in the mood for video games today. We could dramatically read out King Lear.”

“No,” Elliot interferes before that option is considered any further, “I love literature, I really do, but this will end with you making fun of my really bad acting.”

“Yeah,” Oz laughs, “there’s a reason you’re not doing drama.”

“Shut up, shortie.”

“Never.”

Oz grins at him, and Elliot may act like he’s angry, furrowed eyebrows and all, really, he’s glad that Oz is his friend. Obnoxious little brat. He does kind of love him.

A knock on the door interrupts their discussions.

“Come in!” Oz says, and next thing he knows, Elliot is in an even more situation than he was with Echo earlier this week.

Jack is standing in the door. Elliot doesn’t see him very often; no one does, not apart from his immediate family, really. Drawn back, quiet, barely ever speaks to anyone but Oz, Ada, and Oscar.

“…Hi,” he says, looking at Oz. Jack’s dressed in a dark green coat, worn out leather shoes and grey jeans. He’s holding a small bag in his hand, looking very, very uncomfortable.

“Hi! You going out and want me to tell Oscar?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking to the side, then taking a deep breath and looking at Oz directly. “I… Lacie hasn’t shown up to class all week, and I fear it’s my fault. So I’m going to visit her to… apologize.”

“Did you do something bad?”

Jack looks at his little brother, his eyes turning glassy for a second.

“Sort of. Nothing that could get me into prison, so don’t worry.”

…Elliot isn’t sure he finds that a good answer himself, but Oz lights up at it, clearly just trusting Jack with this.

“Well, in that case, it’s fine! Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, so don’t worry, I’m sure you can fix it. I’ll let Oscar know, if that’s what you’re worried about? He won’t mind. Just text us if you stay the night or something so we know whether to put dinner in the fridge, alright?”

Jack nods, casting his gaze downwards again. The hand on the bag is trembling a little bit. Elliot admittedly doesn’t know much about him. but every time he’s seen it, he’s either looked normal, or severely depressed. But he’s never seen him look anxious like this.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Whatever else Jack might’ve wanted to say, given the way he opens his mouth once more but then closes it, he swallows down, then turns around and walks away. Oz gets up and looks after him, then closes the door again.

“Alright! Never mind my big brother who’s probably just in love for the first time in his life!”

Leo stares at Oz like he’s just told him that the Holy Knight author got revived.

“He’s what? Who? What the fuck? Jack, in love? That’s a scary thought. I’m not sure I like that thought at all.”

Elliot agrees absolutely. Jack is too depressed in his mind to be in love.

Then again, wasn’t Leo also incredibly depressed when Elliot fell in love with him? At least for some time? So yeah, unfair thought, probably. It’s fine. Jack can be in love with whoever the hell he pleases, as long as he treats them well.

“Eh,” Oz laughs, “Gilbert says she seems really nice. He sees them in the hallways sometimes. Brek also saw her a few times, and even talked to her once or twice. Her name’s Lacie. I’m not sure what exactly is going on between her and Jack, though. It’s probably good he’s going over to hers to talk though. I mean, that’s more than he used to do with us, at least, you know?”

“Hmm, true,” Leo laughs, “whatever, I hope it goes well for him. Can’t wait for Lily to bring home her first boyfriend, or girlfriend, or partner or whatever. Fand and Doug willare in for a ride. Alright, so, do we play MarioKart after all? Or do we watch really bad Holy Knight edits? We’ve gotta do something.”

Oz is right. Otherwise, they’ll get bored, or well; Oz specifically will get bored.

“We could scroll tumblr for trans fanart of Edgar,” Leo suddenly proposes, and Elliot might juts kill him.

“Not that fucker again,” Elliot grunts, “please, I sincerely can’t stand him, his entire demeanour-“

“And the way he sacrifices himself for Edwin, as if that makes anything better,” Leo continues for him in the most mocking tone of voice ever, “as if that doesn’t just hurt the people around him, yes, Elliot, we know, shut up. Let’s look at cool trans Edgar fanart, Oz.”

And just like that, Elliot is being excluded from group activities, Leo whipping out his phone and Oz sitting down next to him, already looking into his phone. However, he wrinkles his nose a bit a second later.

“Eww. Leo, you smell.”

Very tiredly, Leo turns around to him, and cracks a broken little smile.

“Yeah, Oz, get used to it. Please, do better than me. Buy better deodorant for after your top surgery. You’ll need it, I promise.”

Crossing his arms, Elliot watches as the two start chirping away at trans Edgar fanart or whatever, sometimes inhaling sharply at what he can only suppose is NSFW art and oh, Elliot wouldn’t have it any other way to be honest.

Chapter Text

Jack hasn’t spoken to Lacie in an entire week. The feeling of her skin below his hands and his hands on him hasn’t left, either, still lingering. The places she’s touched him in still hurt, burn, singeing his skin down to his bones. Everything about it hurt; the way she touched him, kissed him, Jack given chance to back away but never quite doing so, chasing the feeling like a high that he knew was going to destroy him later.

Because Lacie just manages to make him feel so alive, and it’s both good and bad, because it makes him want to live, but it also makes him want to live.

He enjoyed and endured and god, Jack isn’t sure that hell ever recover from the fact that he’s slept with Lacie.

But alas, there hasn’t been a message from her in a week now; she came to class once, the day after,sitting down away from him and not talking to him at all. After that, she disappeared, missing all further classes.
He tried texting her. Lied awake at night debating whether this is something he should do or not, concluding until the third night that he shouldn’t. Going over the texts again and again to make sure he’s not oversharing, not talking too much about his own feelings.
Partly because he doesn’t want to be seen, feeling all raw and vulnerable. Partly because she knows about them anyways.
He sent some texts then; just asking whether she was fine. She’s left him on read, but that was almost good enough.

She let him know that she’s alive, still in this world, the dark and dirty one, not the bright and golden one.

But that’s okay, because as long as they’re in the same world, he might just be fine with it.

However, something inside of him snapped; when he heard Leo and Oz and Elliot talk from the room over, all chatter, their words muted through the thick wall between them to the point he couldn’t understand any of them – it made him long for Lacie in ways that he thought might just have distorted him even further.

It’s okay.

He’s already so distorted, a little more won’t hurt.

(And yet it burns and hurts and it’s worse than any of the other torture he’s ever encountered on the streets, back as a young teenager. Back when he sold his body, just so he could meet Lacie. This time, it was different. Having sex was different this time, because Jack meant it, and Lacie meant it, and nothing could tear them apart but the silence between them.)

Yet, he finds himself in front of her and Oswald’s apartment, and when he rings the doorbell, all that’s left for Jack is to hope that he won’t be here.

It takes long for any kind of sound to come; then, there’s footsteps.

Light.

The door opens, and there she stands.

Her hair is tied up in the roughest of buns he’s ever seen, and she’s wearing pajama pants, as well as a huge, fluffy hoodie; her feet are bare, her cheeks blushing red, her eyes all glassy, the tip of her nose standing out with just how red and angry it looks, and well.

“…You’re sick.”

“I’m sick,” Lacie replies with a small sigh, then steps aside. “Come in if you’re willing to catch whatever fucking virus I got myself into.”

Jack doesn’t know how to tell her that he’d die for her without another second spent, as long as it meant that he can live for her again in a next life. A cold means nothing at all.
He steps into the small flat once more; there’s no sound but theirs, meaning that Oswald isn’t at home.

Again.

He’s really lucky. He still doesn’t want to see Oswald. He’s not sure he reasonably could.

It stays quiet even as she leads him into her room again.

She sits back down on her bed, and that’s when Jack finally remembers the small bag in his hand.

“I… got you chocolate,” he says, desperately trying to start and conversation. “Jack” can start conversations, but him? The real him? That’s a different matter entirely. But for her, he’ll try.

“Ah, you’re a lifesaver,” she says, and while her tone is all light-hearted, deep down, Jack can feel that it’s much more than that. He can feel the edge to it, cutting through the air like a knife, and it makes it so obvious that nothing between them is okay. “Sorry I didn’t show up or text you back. I felt bad. I got this cold, and then I got my period and, well, this chocolate is very much needed, so thanks.”

Despite the wariness in every single one of her words, there is still gratitude, and Jack can tell that she means it.

Lacie only lied to him once.

And he immediately knew what her lie was, so he’s pretty sure that he can tell.

She grabs the chocolate from the bag, opening it right away and taking a large bite out of it. Only after having thoroughly chewed and swallowed it does she look at him again.

“Sorry. I really needed that. I can basically feel the sugar going to my brain already. Uh- anyways. I’m sorry. I know I should’ve at least text you back. You must’ve been worried. I just- I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to think and feel. It all happened so fast, and it’s all been such a mess ever since I remembered.”

“I understand.”

And Jack does understand, really. He does. But at the same time he wants to scream at her that no, no, nothing makes up for this. For making him want to live once more and then just ignoring him for an entire week, not responding to him at all. And sure, he could’ve come over to hers earlier, but-

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that what he really needed to help him come here was hearing his little brother and friends talk.

Because yeah – talking is what him and Lacie didn’t do in their past lives, and it’s what led to her dying, isn’t it? He could’ve gotten her away, he’s sure. Oswald should’ve told him. He’d have gotten her out of this situation so that Oswald wouldn’t have had to cast her down into the abyss.

But here they are.

Once more.

“…No. It’s not okay. You don’t have to understand. I don’t understand myself. In fact, I don’t want you to understand. Please be angry with me. Anything. For all the things I’ve said and done back then, too. Part of the reason you did all of this was because of me, and because of the things I said when I had not a single clue about what they could possibly mean to you. Like telling you to sell your body because it doesn’t matter. Because- just because it wouldn’t matter to me, it might not be the same for others.”

Jack never thought much of it. He knows for a fact that it was selling his body that got him where he was; it twisted him because he didn’t like to do it. He didn’t want to do it. Every second spent with those women and sometimes men felt horrible, but there was one thought that would always get him through.
That, at the end of this all, this was the most sure way to see Lacie again.

“It’s…” he says, but doesn’t know where to start and end. Only when she slowly reaches her hand out for him (while sniffing very dramatically), knuckles brushing his cheek, does he manage to continue. “It’s not okay. It never was. I didn’t enjoy it. I wasn’t okay with it. It made me- I don’t know how it made me feel. I just wanted to see you, and I didn’t know another way. It’s the only way you showed me of how to see you again. And if it was necessary, then I’d do it.”

There’s a burning feeling in his eyes. Almost as bad as the her fingertips tracing his jaw, then back up to his nose, his eyes, stroking something wet away.

“I’d do it, but I didn’t like it. Not any of it. I had to be someone different, something different for every single one of them.”

It didn’t break him. Jack was broken long before he started touching and being touched by people. He felt like something inhumane before already.

But it didn’t help.

“Yeah,” Lacie whispers, “I know. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was- young and naïve.”

They both were. There’s no need to apologize between them, because they’ve both done things the other can’t forgive.
And they’re also both aware of that.

“It’s over now,” Jack says, letting her stroke away the wetness on his cheeks that he’d rather not think about more than he has to.

“Yeah. It’s over.”

“No matter how much it hurt, it hurt more when you died, Lacie.”

She doesn’t answer him. Instead, when she raises her voice, it’s almost inaudible.

“Will you ever be able to forgive me for making you sell your body? For being the one at fault?”

“The decision was still mine.”

“It’s not as easy as that, Jack.”

“Yeah. I suppose it’s not.”

“So… what do we do?” Lacie asks, her gaze finally meeting his again. “Is there any way you can forgive me- It’s just- I don’t know, Jack. I don’t know. I want to be honest with you, but it suddenly feels so hard.”

It’s hard, Jack knows. He of all people would know; after all this time of lying and deceiving other and wearing one of his thousand masks. And it’s strangely gratifying to hear that Lacie, the person he holds higher and lower than anyone else, also struggles with being honest sometimes.

“I don’t know what to do, either,” Jack says, finding that his voice is quieter than he meant it to be, that his hard feels softer than it was ever meant to feel. But if being honest keeps Lacie around, then, just for her, he’s willing to try.

“But I want you around in my life,” he admits, feeling something pricking in his eyes, except they don’t even feel like his eyes right now, given that there are so many layers between his skin and mind right now still, like he can’t ever break free even when he is the one talking. “I truly do, Lacie. Because I- I’m in love with you. I’ve always been.”

It’s not like it was a secret to begin with; both of them knew. Latest once they’ve slept together, they were both aware. And yes; Jack is also pretty sure that it’s not just him who feels this way. Yet, speaking the word feels foreign on his tongue, makes him panic in such a weird way that he feels the need to specify, to make sure she knows what he really means, that those are not just hollow words.

“And- it’s- it’s more than just that. I love you. But I also do hate you, Lacie, because you made me want to live. I wasn’t ever planning to want to live. But at the end of the day, I only hate you because I love you. I don’t know if I can reasonably be with you, or whether you can reasonably let me be with you.”

These days, he feels like he knows himself even less than before.

However, Lacie’s face softens as she hears those words, and a chuckle – panicked, not unlike his own – makes it past her lips.

A glitter makes it into her eyes that isn’t the feverish glow from her cold.

Just one second later, there’s tears rolling down her cheeks, and yet, she keeps laughing. Jack isn’t sure what to do, so he keeps his hands at his side, always just looking at her.

“Even- even though you’ve done all these horrible things to everyone, even though you’ve lied so often, to everyone, to me, to the others- I still believe these words, somehow. I still believe you, Jack, and even though you did… even though you hurt Oz and Alice so much… I still find myself feeling the same way. Is that a bad thing?”

“Probably,” Jack says, suddenly realizing how fast his heart is beating in his chest. Deep down, he was aware that Lacie likes him in the same way; but hearing it from her, hearing her say it so clearly, that’s different.

It makes it real.

It makes it so much more real.

“I… yeah. It’s probably bad. But then, it’s just as bad that you feel the same way about me, right?”

Because at this point, they’ve both done irreparable damage to each other and everyone around them, haven’t they? Jack to the living; Lacie to the abyss, by agreeing to Levi’s “experiment” and giving birth to a vessel for the will.

So what’s there to lose?

“Yeah. It’s bad either way,” Jack says, bringing his hand up to his chest. Not to his heart, but to his chest; he feels thumping against his palm anyways, though.

“This is stupid. I’ve lived two lifetimes, and yet, why do I feel like a teenager who’s just gotten her first confession?” Lacie asks, “so… what do we do about this? Would you like to… try?”

Their gazes meet once more; Jack looks at her, the smile on her face, the tears still rolling down her cheeks; the red nose and chapped lips, the lips that just a week ago, Jack has kissed, the feeling never leaving his, and if he knows anything, it’s that this isn’t about trying.

He knows it won’t work.

Precisely because they’ve done too much to each other, because both of them have personalities that have twisted far and beyond, and yet, what he ends up responding with-

“Yes. Trying is the least we can do.”

“If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work,” she reiterates, “but I’d like to try. I’d like to see if we can make it work, at least. We can’t make it worse anymore. We can’t make ourselves worse.”

And if Lacie has ever had a point, then it’s now.

This is true.

They can’t make each other worse, because they’ve already turned into the worst versions of themselves because of each other so, truly – what’s there left to lose?

Probably not a lot, at this point, right?

He can’t go more insane than he already did.

And on top of that, Jack can always still take the easy way out, and hope that, in his next life, he wouldn’t remember.

So, when he nods, and Lacie slowly takes his hand, it doesn’t feel right, but it certainly doesn’t feel wrong either.

Chapter Text

Reim never minded being the second choice a lot. Right from his first proposal to Sharon back when they were children, he was aware that Break would always be her first choice.

He knew as much, and he came to terms with it long ago.

Of course, coming to terms with it included several crying sessions, some weeks of being unable to eat because of how lovesick he was, Rufus Barma attempting to rationalize his love as if he wasn’t down bad much worse for Sharon’s grandmother. Sometimes, Reim would gain hope, and either Barma, or Sharon herself would crush it once more.

But it was fine.

By the time he saw Break’s health decline, by the time he lost his sight, Reim had come to terms with it that nothing could ever make Sharon choose him. And that was fine – just being by her side would be enough or so he told himself.

However, after Break’s death, they were the only ones able to understand each other’s grief, the only ones able to comfort each other after their loss. And then there was no one else.

Because Break was long gone by that point, having died in their arms, and there was nothing anyone could do anymore. Gone. For good.

One of the two people who had always been in Reim’s life.

He doesn’t know why Sharon accepted his proposal back then; well, one of them, to be exact. He knows that Sharon undoubtedly loved him; but what they didn’t talk about, that was how she undoubtedly still saw him as her second choice. Not like he minded it at this point – he got to be with her, and that was more than enough to him. Another factor might’ve been that someone in the end would’ve pressured her to get married to someone anyways, so Reim must’ve been a viable option to her, and to him, that was also just fine. He didn’t care.

In comparison to Break, Reim has always been nothing. Someone who couldn’t fight with anything but his brain. Someone who was always a pacifist when being one wasn’t an option.

And mind you, he does not have an inferiority complex. He just knows that he’s nothing in comparison to Break, but Reim doesn’t dislike himself for it. He doesn’t have to be the greatest in any way. He knows that in their last lifetime, Sharon most certainly loved him despite him not being the greatest.

But even though he didn’t mind it up until now that’s – well. Up until now.

Because after spending an entire lifetime at Sharon’s side, it’s hard to go back to just being a friend to both her and Break. And it’s especially hard because of how, over the years, they’ve seemingly grown closer and closer to each other, and not just in a platonic way.

Reim doesn’t think they’re in an official relationship, not yet either way. He’d know. They’d tell him. He trusts them to at least let him know that much.

It’s hard knowing that they definitely don’t remember anything, either. Reim would know; he knows when he sees Jack in the hallways, and the one time he’s met Vanessa, it was enough. He knew. He has however talked at length to Vincent, and thus knows not just about him, but about Noise, also, when Echo doesn’t remember.
Noise appears to not have told her at least.

Either way – Reim is glad he’s alive again, and he’s more than glad that he’s friends with both Xerxes Break and Sharon Rainsworth again, except they’re kind of disgustingly in love, and it’s starting to break his mood down, which in turn pisses Reim off even more because he doesn’t want to be mad about something so stupid.

Maybe it’s not stupid for others, but it’s stupid for him, because this is the second time he’s living, and he should’ve long gotten over all of this and very much thought he was.

“Here, look, Ems ‘n me visited Gil’s kittens again today, and she’s so good with them. I’ve asked Gil not to spay his cat and instead let her have kittens once more so we can get one once I’m working full-time, but he didn’t react that well,” Break laughs and ah yes.

Gilbert’s kittens.

Reim still isn’t entirely sure how to feel about the concept of a Gilbert Nightray who loves cats more than anything else and owns four of them.

That really is the ultimate proof that Gilbert does, in fact, not remember anything at all.

Sharon is standing really close to Break, her shoulder touching his arm, leaning over his phone to look at what’s assumably a picture of Emily playing with Gilbert’s kittens. And ah, yes, Emily. The fact Breaks’s puppet turned into their little sister this life, that’s a whole other thing.

Reim wonders whether she’s just the puppet.

He wonders what the given name of little Miss Sinclair was. He wonders if this is fate giving Break another chance of protecting her.

Either way, she’s a sweetheart. Very shy, but that’s probably because she got bullied for a long while. It’s what happens to kids who gets bullied, and Reim has witnessed it one too many times.

He does miss Lily. He knows she’s living with Leo and the rest of the Baskervilles, and that she’s safe and sound. If she remembered, she’d probably long have come looking for him either way.

Maybe it’s a bit of a lonely existence.

“God, they’re so cute,” Sharon laughs, but at the same time, she awkwardly reaches up to take a strand of hair between her fingers and twirls it a little bit, just like any heroine in her beloved romance novels would do.

Reim was in fact forced to read them.

Both in the last life, as well as this. All of them were quite bad – but they made her so happy, so he didn’t mind.

“Oh, look, Glasses has come!”

“Oh- shut up, Break,” Reim sighs, partly in a joking manner, partly truly exasperated, because does this joke just never get old to him?

“Hehe, so grumpy~ let me guess, your lecture was fuckboring, so you’re in a really bad mood?”

Reim still doesn’t know how to break it Break that engineering is, in fact, not boring if you are actively invested in it. Which, of course, Break isn’t. Reim knows as much. But the guy is projecting.

“It was a very interesting lecture, thank you very much,” he says, “you visited Gilbert again?”

“Yup,” Break says, still the same singing voice he’s always had once he recovered thanks to Shelly and Sharon, “they’re just so cute. You should come with us the next time, that’d melt even your heart.”

Reim does in fact like the kittens and his heart was never made of ice, but all three of them are very aware, so he refuses to comment on that any further.

“No, really, they’re so sweet, both the kittens and Ems,” Sharon laughs, grabbing Break’s phone and jumping towards Reim to show him.

Maybe it’s sad, but he relishes in the way they’re so close even now, and the way she’s completely fine with touching him all casually. And if that’s the most he can get, that’s fine by him, too.

And besides, the picture is worth it; Emily is holding up two of the kittens, the other one in her lap, seemingly asleep.

It does raise his mood again, because yeah, no matter what – he can be with his two best friends again.

“Hey, don’t just steal my phone!” Break suddenly yelps, crashing into the two of them, on the mission of retrieving their phone; soon the three of them are one huddle of Sharon hiding behind Reim, clutching Break’s phone, and Break desperately trying to get past Reim, btu Reim finds it a bit too much fun to tease him back a little bit for all the times he’s made fun of him in their past life.

“Haha, Xerx, why?” Sharon laughs, “do you have adult videos on there? So embarrassed about them? Just how bad are they? So bad you won’t allow me to see even though I probably read much more deranged stuff?”

“I swear to God-“ Break says, but then he retreats a little, letting his hands sink, and making those stupid puppy eyes at Reim. “Please, Reim, do you want Sharon to see these kind of stupid videos?”

And really, Reim hates to admit it. There’s nothing he hates to admit more than this – but the puppy eyes tend to work on him and always have. It’s hard to say ‘no’ to Break when this is the same man he witnessed back then, acting like a shot deer; acting out any time someone so much as looked at him. Being mean to him and Sharon, only recovering slowly because of Shelly, and then because of Sharon once he let her in.

Going along with his whims is the least Reim can do to make sure he doesn’t lose his smile in this world, too. He already struggled so much in order to move with Emily to get her away from the school with all those bullies. He struggled so much raising her and still doing so (with Reim’s and Sharon’s help, sure, but still, all of them were teens back then). He struggled enough already, and even if that’s nothing compared to their past life, there’s still no need for more.

So, with a small huff of breath, he turns around to Sharon.

“Please just give Break his phone back? Please?”

Sharon however is clutching onto it tightly.

Really, the entire situation feels quite childish, and Reim doesn’t usually like feeling childish, but it’s strangely okay if he feels childish because of the two of them.

“No. Never. Do you think he maybe texted Gilbert that he has a crush on someone, and that’s why he’s so flustered?”

Throwing his head around, Reim does see that Break’s cheeks are indeed a tiny bit red, which is uncommon for how pale he usually is. However, he just laughs inwardly. Really? Texting someone about a crush? Reim wants so badly to tell Sharon that there’s no way Break has a crush on anyone but her, because of course he likes her back. The way he touches her hand sometimes, his knuckles brushing hers should be more than enough to let her know, but the insecurity laced into her voice tells Reim thar Sharon might know every single thing about other people’s romances, but not much about her own.

“Sharon. Please just give it back.”

“No,” she laughs, “I’m intrigued now. What’s on your phone that you so badly don’t want me to see? Pictures of naked women? Naked men? Really poorly drawn fanart? That one picture of you with those ugly green glasses you used to have in second grade?”

“Okay, so, that is on there,” Break says, “but I’m not letting you find it!”

And with that, he launches past Reim, kind of tackles Sharon, but she just twirls around (clearly she didn’t take all of those dance classes for nothing), and thus, he is once more unsuccessful in trying to retrieve his poor phone.

After another few seconds of this, Reim gets tired, and when the opportunity arrives, he snatches the phone out of Sharon’s hands, and then presents it to Break.

With a small noise of both glee and relief, Break takes it from him, and stuffs it into their pocket. At least he’s not wearing those awful crocs today, Reim affirms with a small look down at Break’s feet. In purple converse today.

A lot saner than his usual choice of shoes. He should really just stick to those.

“Thank you, Reim,” he sighs, “I’ll stop making fun of a you for a few days for this, just as a small favour. I could kiss you right now, really.”

Reim’s heart stops.

He knows it’s just a stupid comment on Break’s side. He knows it doesn’t mean anything, he’s completely and fully aware because there’s no need to deceive himself about this.
But that doesn’t mean those stupid, meaningless comments don’t affect him anyways.

In his last life, Reim might’ve been attached to Break, but not in that way. But this time around – god, he doesn’t know what happened. He doesn’t know why this stuff affects him as much as it does, why his heart throbs like that when Break looks at him, why the places he’s touched him in during their weird little playfight still feel hot, almost tingly.
But this is how he feels, and in contrast to his feelings for Sharon, Reim does have a bit of a problem admitting it to himself.

But it’s okay.

If Reim has learned anything about love in his past life, it’s that love isn’t something you can control, and that this can be a good thing, even if it hurts you in the long run.
“Please don’t,” he forces out, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

He wished he was just hurting because he’s jealous of Break; because him and Sharon are probably going to confess soon, and they’re still going to be his friends, and he’ll always have a place in their heart, but the one Sharon is going to be kissing won’t be him.

No, the issue is that this goes both ways. As much as he’s jealous of Break, he’s also jealous of Sharon, because as much as he wants to kiss Sharon, he also really wants to kiss Break.

Because Reim Lunettes has fallen in love with both Sharon Rainsworth and Xerxes Break, and he has not a single idea what to do with that information about himself.

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry Xerx made you do this again.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” Reim laughs, ruffling Emily’s hair a little bit as he steps into their small flat. It’s a bit stuffy inside is the first thing he notices. He’s ought to open the windows first thing. It’s not nice inside here at all. Not like that’s her fault – she’s still a kid, she’s allowed to not notice when it’s stuffy. Reim’s own small siblings aren’t any different from her, really.

But no, if Break could take proper care of their flat just once, Reim would already be saved a lot of the trouble. At least it appears to be clean today. Another time when Reim went to take care of Emily, the first thing he did was clean the entire flat. He did also teach her how to clean properly, so they at least had some fun doing it, and then she can clean if she ever feels up to it. Shared household duties and all that.

“No, he shouldn’t just leave you and Sharon to babysit me. Besides, I’m old enough at this point! No one needs to babysit me anymore.”

That might also be true. She’s getting kind of too old to still be babysat, and besides, Break is only going to be gone for three hours or something in that range, so Reim really doesn’t see the fuzz. Besides, he does also have his own siblings to watch – and yeah, sure, they’re older than Emily by now, but also there’s more of them.

“It’s fine,” he insists though, “although I suppose you are getting gold enough to look after yourself though. Well, I can at least make you dinner.”

“You should just teach me to make dinner so I can do that myself, too,” Emily sighs, but gets rudely interrupted by Reim’s phone ringing. He picks up, and what he hears is Sharon.

“Are you okay on your own? My granny really needs me to scan this book for her lecture. I can still join you and Ems in an hour or two? You can handle her yourself, right?”

Oh, so now it’s going to just be Reim and Emily alone, he supposes, if not even Sharon can make it.

It’s fine either way, Emily genuinely can take care of herself, and Sharon was only ever in the equation for the fun aspect of things. Reim knows he isn’t a lot of fun, especially when your big sibling is Break. But he’ll make do. They can just watch some TV or something; Emily isn’t particularly hard to entertain.

“It’s alright,” he says, “good luck scanning an entire book, though? Is it for the literature introduction course?”

“Yeah,” Sharon sighs, “she forgot to do it before the semester started. So now she’s tasked me. Well, I guess I am her official assistant, so it’s whatever. Least I can do for her is do the correct work at the right time if I already get paid for it, huh?”

Reim did also try getting a job as a professor’s assistant since they pay quite well and it’s not the hardest of jobs, but he didn’t manage. In the end, he took a regular job in the university library, but it still pays quite well next to his weekend job.

…At least he doesn’t work where Vincent works. Reim might just go insane in that case, so he should probably appreciate that much.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good call,” he laughs, “you should stay ahead of things. I’ll handle her, what could possibly go wrong? You’re free to join us later if you want, though.”

She’d know as much even if Reim didn’t tell her that, and he knows that. He just wants to make sure to say those things, because in his last life, he learned just how fast a life can end. He’s sure that there were a lot of things left for Break to say when he died, too. It’s the only thing that makes Reim sad about Break not remembering their past lives; Reim at least gets to make up for his past grievances.

Neither Break or Reim are given the chance, but maybe there’s upsides, too.

At least they won’t have to struggle with all the things they’ve seen. That thought does make him content.

“Yeah, it’s going to be really boring, but ah, the audiobook of the prequel for my favourite trilogy just came out, so I’m just going to listen to it while scanning it. Really sorry for the trouble!”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay, yes, ugh, I’m gonna go commit to this. Have fun you two!”

And with that, they say their goodbyes, and Reim is once more left to deal with Break’s little sister. He does love her. Maybe, the next time he takes care of her all on his own, he should go take her to Vincent’s shop. He does have enough money. His second job at the library specifically is just so he can afford to buy his siblings presents and sweets. And the occasional party does also have to be paid, of course.

“Alright. What should we make for dinner?”

“Eggs.”

“Scrambled?” Reim asks, and Emily gives him a nod.

“We could fry some sausages or something. In the morning, Break briefly saw Alice, and she begrudgingly handed him some sausages because she knows she reasonably can’t eat everything she stole from work today.”

Right. Reim remembers that Alice now works in a butcher’s shop, so of course she would steal meat from there; kind of horrifying for whoever chose to employ her. Maybe Levie is secretly paying her employer some money.

“Yeah, those things are quite easy, I think you can manage those,” Reim agrees, and they make their way to the kitchen together. Emily grabs the sausages and four eggs, which seems fair enough to Reim considering they’re two people. They’ll just have toast with this, probably.

“Have you ever cracked eggs?”

“…No,” she admits after a while, “Xerx doesn’t usually let me in the kitchen. Too scared I’ll burn myself. Show me?”

Reim nods and takes the first egg, then grabs the small aluminum bowl that Break has, since Reim already knows that the eggs will probably crack the best against it.

“You just take it and hit the bowl with it,” he says, “something between lightly and strong; otherwise, you might get eggshells in the egg, but if you need to, you can just fish them out with a spoon. Here, like this.”

He bumps the egg against the bowl, then holds it over it, and opens it up. Emily watches and picks up her own, motivation basically written across her face.

Reim hands her the bowl, throwing the eggshell into the sink for now. He can take care of throwing that away later.

Emily raises it and cracks the egg perfectly, as if she’s perfected it over years.

“Ah. Well, that’s easy,” she says, and it does prompt Reim to laugh a bit.

“Seems like you’re a natural. You want to crack the other two also?”

“Yeah. Say, Reim, can I ask you something?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah, of course.”

Usually, those questions do not lead to good things – Reim has learned that in both this life and the last one. In this one, his little sibling asked him whether his hamster really just fell asleep or whether there was more to it when Reim was twelve years old and not very sure how to explain the concept of death to a three-year old.

In his previous life, he mostly learned it because of Rufus Barma.
‘Can I ask you something’ would usually lead to roughly three weeks of exhausting work and a caffeine intake so high that it should’ve been illegal.

“It might be a bit of a weird question. If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.”

…That’s even worse, actually. Reim is getting more than just a little scared.

“…It’s fine,” he says, although much more hesitantly than before, “just shoot it at me. It can’t be worse than whatever your big sibling has asked me before.”

“Haha, it might just be.”

That ominous sentence out of the way, she cracks another egg against the bowl, and then the last one before actually asking him.

And oh, yeah, okay, alright. Reim was, in fact, not prepared for a young girl to be asking him that kind of question, but here he is.

“Are you in love with Sharon?”

He can actually feel his blood freeze in his veins; it runs all cold, and he wants to flee, but instead, he rips open the package of Alice’s sausages in a way that he couldn’t close back up again given how he’s ripped the entire plastic apart completely.

Clearly, Emily takes that as an affirmative reaction and well, she wouldn’t be wrong if she did. Because Reim is in love with Sharon.

Of course he is.

It’s just an absolutely horrifying thought that even a child has caught on to that by now because please and thank you, Reim would rather this stays a secret for everyone involved, and children aren’t exactly known for keeping secrets. He does trust Emily, but she’s still a child.

“I’m… assuming that means you do, then?” she asks, and Reim simply grabs the margarine from the fridge, taking a bit with a knife, and throwing it into the pan a bit harder than truly necessary.

“Yeah. You are. You’re in love with Sharon.”

Reim takes a very deep breath. No need to take his issues out on a kid, he’s better than this. In theory, he’s much older than his mere twenty-four years in this life anyways because he remembers his past life, so he should stand above those comments. Also because he’s dealt with Xerxes Break for two entire lifetimes now.

“Yes,” he says, taking off his glasses and quickly cleaning them with his shirt – he’s never quite gotten rid of that habit. “I am. She doesn’t know, and I’m not planning to tell her.”

“Because she’s in love with my brother? And you think you’ve got no chances because he very possibly loves her back?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” Emily makes, looking up at him. Three times, she opens and then closes her mouth again, looking at Reim as if wondering whether she can ask another question that might just end up just as horrible as the previous one.

“Just say whatever you want to say. I’ve long gotten used to this,” he says. It’s partly true; Reim has gotten used to being the second choice, has gotten used to being in Break’s shadow, has gotten used to just watching from afar if only that means he gets to be close to his two best friends again.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.

“Alright. So, I see the problem, and I get it in theory- but aren’t you also in love with my sibling?”

Okay.

Now that one.

That one gets Reim, and he almost drops his glasses; catches them in the last second and puts them the hell back into his face, because he might have the money to treat Emily and his little siblings, but certainly not the money to buy a new pair of glasses.

Emily looks up at him with big round eyes still, turning on the stove; Reim knows that she knows how to do that because before Sharon gifted Reim and her an electrical kettle, they used to just boil water on the stove, and Emily has been able to make tea for herself ever she’s been six. Very slowly, the margarine begins to melt, while Reim remains unable to speak up – now, he is the one to repeatedly open and close his mouth, struggling to come up with what he could possibly say to her in this situation.

“It’s okay if you are,” she says, “I won’t tell.”

“…Maybe.”

Reim shouldn’t be telling a kid about this. At the very least, he won’t tell her about his entire mental conflict and all that; he’s better than that at least, and he can very much hold back about it. However, Emily asked as if she’s already figured it out anyways – so what’s the harm in just being honest to her? There doesn’t seem to be much of point to try and lie to her.

“Okay. That’s all I really wanted to know to be honest,” she says, “I had a feeling, and just wanted to check! I’m not going to like- urge you to confess. I don’t know enough about those things. I’m a child.”

Well. At least she’s self-aware.

At this point, it’s hard to manage anything more than a nod, so that’s all Reim does.

“Alright. I don’t… really want to talk about it that much either way.”

“That’s fine! We don’t have to!” she says, “the margarine is melted, does that mean we put in the egg now?”

And switched topics, just like that, to make sure Reim doesn’t feel awkward about what just happened.

Except he still does, but for her sake, he’s going to act like nothing is wrong at all and just go along with this.

“Yes,” he says, you want to pour it in?”

“Yes!”

Emily takes the bowl and tilts it, watching in wonder as she’s making scrambled eggs for the first time in her life, and Reim pretends that she didn’t figure out on her own that Reim is in love with both Sharon and Break, which means that the two of them could also potentially realize.

Which is a very horrifying thought.

Reim will pray to whatever gods are out there – apart from the Juries because he doesn’t trust them whatsoever – that neither Sharon nor Break will ever learn of this.

Chapter Text

“Uh… Xerx, if you could hand me my fucking pen back, please?” Sharon sighs, reaching her hand out to Break, seated right next to her, however, of course, said pen is not returned.

“The other day you stole my phone and refused to give it back to me, but now you want your pen back? Milady, something tells me you’re a hypocrite.”

If they could at the very least not flirt like that in front of Reim, it’d be much appreciated; well, it’s whatever. This could be worse at any rate, and the fact that Break is still sometimes calling her ‘milady’ just feels so beautifully reminiscent of the past.

“Look, Break. I don’t have time. Because unlike someone, I actually want to do my daily studying. I need to get it over with before meeting Oz and his friends.”

At that, Reim perks up, finally distracted from his thoughts.

“You’re meeting Oz, Elliot, and Leo?”

“Yeah,” she says, “they wanna ask me some questions about studying literature and all, with university applications coming up now. I’m pretty sure Leo won’t be applying here, but at Oxford, though. He should, he seems to be really good. I wished he’d sit my exams for me, but alas.”

In their past life, Reim would’ve reached over the table to touch her hand like he usually did when she was worried about something. He did that even before they got married; after Break’s death, there was a lot of comforting Sharon. Comforting her was also comforting to him though.
Reim never minded much.

“Ah, I see, I see, dearest Oz wants to study such a useless subject-“

“You study philosophy,” Sharon hisses at him, “shut up. We’re both equally useless in a capitalist society.”

“Hmm~ At least we’re useless together, then.”

Exactly that. The flirting. Reim huffs out a slightly annoyed sigh and tells himself that if these two were at least official, he would be significantly less pissed off at them. Can they at least get together already? Surely there’s no way they’ve never kissed, right? Slept together? There’s no way they haven’t. They’ve been so close for so long, and they’re already acting like girlfriend and boyfriend anyways, so what’s the big deal in making it official? In this life, Break doesn’t even have the excuse of his horrible past; well, he didn’t have it easy, his parents dying when he was young and having to take care of his sister and everything, but well.
This time around, Break isn’t a mass murderer, so that must account for something regarding his mental health, right?

“Uh-“

When Reim looks back up at Sharon, she’s blushing incredibly hard, red dusting her cheeks from her left ear to her right. “Why- don’t just say those things, what the hell?”

And, surprisingly, Break does also look away at that.

“Haha. Yeah, you’re right, I guess some things shouldn’t be said too lightly. Here’s your pen.”

Blinking, Reim watches as Break, suddenly all docile, hands her back her pen. Sharon takes it, but the trembling of her fingers can’t be missed.

“Are you two… okay?” Reim asks, and hey, at least that makes Break plaster that fake smirk back on his face – Reim will take it.

“Huh? Me? of course I’m fine! If anything, it’s been you who’s been acting weird ever since you babysat Ems! Did you do anything weird with her?”

“Phrasing, Xerx,” Sharon whispers, and Break just laughs for a bit, then props his head into his hands on the library table.

“Sorry, sorry. Did she ask you anything weird, Reim? Did you two commit crime together? You’ve been strangely quiet those past two days.”

Ah, he should’ve known that Break is very much observant enough to catch onto those things. And it’s not like Reim was trying all too hard to hide it – those are his two best friends. He remembers distinctly that when Emily asked him first, making it obvious that some people clearly noticed his feelings for his two best friends already, he swore to himself that he wouldn’t ever mention it to Sharon and Break.

But the more he thought about it, the more unfair that thought became. After all, isn’t that the reason they’re friends? Because they can talk about everything together without judging each other? So yeah, one day, he’ll talk to them about it, if only to make sure that they don’t judge him for it, that they understand he can still be friends with them. That way, they might be a little bit more cautious about how they act in front of him until he gets over it, too.

He's still a little unsure as to why he’s suddenly so bothered by all this, as if he hasn’t lived his entire life in a perpetual state of frustration because of how Sharon liked Break and not him.

“It’s nothing,” he sighs, not yet mentally prepared for this conversation so he’s going to put it off for a little while longer, and then plasters on the same fake smile, “I just taught her how to make scrambled eggs, that’s all.”

“You did what?” Break screeches, slapping his hands onto the table, and then already crawling over it in a desperate attempt to grab Reim by the throat and strangle him, always the helicopter brother. Reim however grabs him by the wrists early enough to defend himself; Break is still pretty strong in this life, but not that much stronger than him, luckily. Without Mad Hatter to back him up, he’s a lot more like a simple, normal young adult.

…Including his god-awful crocs.

“I taught her how to make scrambled eggs. She’s old enough. You need to teach her how to do those things slowly but surely, Xerxes Break.”

“Oh, not the full-name treatment you bastard,” Break makes, but that just earns him a very judgy side-eye from Sharon.

“Reim’s right. Sit back down. You’re too noisy for the fact we’re in a library. People are staring at us.”

That’s true. There’s a group of boys in the background, all staring at Break, and then another few girls sitting all scattered around the library, exchanging judging glances with each other.

Gritting his teeth, Break does sit back down however.

“Fine,” he says, “but this isn’t over, Reim-”

“Yes, it is,” Sharon cuts him off, “he’s right. Ems is old enough to handle a small pan and some eggs. I joined them later, and she showed me photos, and it looked pretty good. You should appreciate it, really. She might just be able to cook you something in the future, and wouldn’t you like that?”

Seemingly, that gets to Break – the thought of his little sister cooking for him appears to be enough to calm him down for now. So, giving a lust grunt of frustration, he crosses his arms like a little child.

“Fine. I suppose you might be right, she’s old enough. What’s next? Teaching her how to clean the toilet?”

“I’ve long taught her,” Reim says.

“Ugh, of course you have. Then, how to do laundry?”

“I showed her once when she got tomato sauce on her t-shirt,” Sharon points out, and that makes Break bury his head in his face.

“They grow up so fast.”

“And you’re not the one helping her grow up,” Reim says, trying to make his voice as cold as he possibly can. He’s just making fun of Break, really; he’s a great older brother, and he shouldn’t have to raise her in first place. But that’s what him and Sharon are there for, right? They can help him, and they’re absolutely ready to. And, he thinks, with all three of them, Emily is going to turn out a very normal girl.

…She might be corrupted by Sharon’s book recommendations once she’s old enough for the stupid things Sharon reads. It’s fine. Reim loves her anyways. And he’ll still love Emily, even if she ends up reading about some stupid dark elf prince and whatever stupid sexual deviancies he’s into.

“Well, whatever,” Break says, then grabs another pen that Sharon is seemingly not planning to use right now and continues writing his notes in glitter gel pen, as if nothing at all happened.

However, the more Reim observes the two over the course of the next hour, the weirder they’re behaving.

Sometimes, Sharon looks at them, and stops typing away on her laptop and taking notes on a sheet of paper – Reim is pretty sure she’s trying her hardest right now to registrate the new books in the library that her grandmother brought from her last trip to France.

And failing at it pretty hard, because she’s clearly distracted by Break, who’s sitting next to her, stealing glances just as much as Sharon. Just not at the same time.

The whole atmosphere is just so blatantly awkward, and the fact they also keep blushing at each other isn’t improving any of it. Reim stays seated and, just like the two of them, doesn’t get any work done.

“Uh- excuse me for a second,” Sharon suddenly says, and storms out of the room looking at her phone all of a sudden.

“You okay?” Reim shouts after her, and Sharon simply shrieks again, and darts away.

Alright then.

Break stares after her in just as much confusion as Reim.

“I thought she had the chat with my little sister open. Saw it from the corner of my eyes,” Break says, and ah yes. Reim isn’t sure he’s gotten completely used to Break speaking of his eyes in plural, still.

Oh no. Could it be that Emily texted her about Reim’s feelings for her? …And for Break? Probably not, right? It’s Emily – sure, she’s a kid, and she might at one point slip up, but there’s no way she’d outright tell Sharon. She’s not the kind of person for that; Reim has raised this kid as much as he’s raised his own siblings, so there’s no way she would’ve done that.

…Maybe Emily asked Sharon whether she’s in love with Break or something, because that, Reim wouldn’t put past her. It’d explain the way Sharon scampered out of the library at any rate.

“Seriously,” Reim starts up, “something happened between you two, right? Both of you are acting really weird.”

“Ah, ah, Reim, don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

Well that does not bode well at all does it? He couldn’t possibly have given a more terrifying answer than that.

“Come on. You can tell me. I’m not a child anymore. Did you sleep together?”

Given by the way Break’s usual smirk drops off his face completely, yeah, they must have, and okay, alright. That’s his previous question answered.

The two of them have slept together; however, only now. Apparently, this was their first time. Whether they were virgins before that – well, in this life, Reim’s pretty sure. Both Break and Sharon would’ve told him. In his previous life, yeah, no.

Reim would know.

Strangely enough, Reim doesn’t feel all too bad about having this confirmed. He was so sure it had already happened, so why get stuck up on it now that it’s a fact? None of that really matters. Part of him, honestly, is just relieved.

His friends deserve to be the happiest they can be, and if they’re finally making progress about it, then Reim can be and will be happy for them.

“Alright. Is that a good or bad thing?” he asks, just to feign ignorance for a little while longer. Just recently, after all, he learned how uncomfortable it is to be asked whether you’re in love with somebody out of the blue, so he doesn’t want to make Break uncomfortable in the same way. As far as they’re concerned, Reim knows of nothing.

…Which is the worlds most stupid assumption, given the fact that those two couldn’t be any more obvious.

“Well-“ Break starts, “it wasn’t- meant to happen that way, I guess? I meant to talk to her first. About all of this.”

He gestures around a little bit, as if that would help Reim in any way understand what ‘all of this’ means.

“But it just- kind of happened. We didn’t stop, even though we should have, because we should’ve talked about this first, you know? About what it means. Because now it’s very awkward, and I’m not entirely sure how to go about it.”

Reim can see that. He has seen it for the entire time they were studying together.

“Give her some time,” he says because, well, in his past life, that worked well for him, didn’t it? “She’ll come around. A day or two, and if she hasn’t started the conversation by then, you might as well just do it.”

Letting out a small sigh, Break crosses their legs. Bringing his bright pink thigh-highs on full display – as if it isn’t literally December, and not literally freezing outside.
(God, Reim forgot just how close Christmas really is. He still needs presents for two of his siblings.)

“Alright. I’m going to assume I don’t need to spell out to you why I wanted to talk to her first.”

“No, not really,” Reim responds, and takes off his glasses to clean them.

He feels so much calmer than he thought he would, giving love advice to the two people who he’s in love with, and who are probably not in love with him. Maybe it’s because now, he’ll finally be able to get closure. It’s about time.

“Yeah, alright,” Break laughs, albeit very awkwardly; he rests his chin in his hand and looks at Reim.

“And you? Is there anyone you like, Reim?”

“No.”

The answer shoots out of his mouth before he can even think about it, in pure panic. At the same time though, he very much feels his cheeks heating up, which is not good. Reim knows he’s not the most perceptible blusher out there, but it’s still going to be very visible.

“Hehe, so that’s a lie~” Break chants, “our dearest Reim like someone, huh? And didn’t bother telling his two best friends?”

There’s a reason for that, Reim thinks to himself. That I might tell your little sister, but not you.

Because it’s exactly this stupidly teasing tone of voice that Reim unironically likes about Break. Seriously, what went wrong with his soul between the last and this life that he just had to fall in love with Sharon and Break? Just to get double the heartbreak? It can’t be punishment either – or can it be? Maybe for the one time he didn’t manage to finish Barma’s job on time? That might just be it. Barma might just curse him out enough for it to carry over into his next life.

“It doesn’t concern you.”

Oh, and how it concerns them.

“Well, well~ whatever, dearest Reim, I’ll let you tell us about it in your own time. As long as it’s not Gilbert – oh, please tell me it’s not Gilbert.”

“No!” Reim shouts, and this time it’s him who draws all the attention to himself. He shuts up immediately and cleans his glasses a little harder about it. “No. It’s not Gilbert. I kind of wished it was Gilbert.”

That gets a laugh out of Break, and another round of stares. Reim puts his glasses back on, and decides that he doesn’t really care about the stares, not after having been Break’s friend for so long.

Luckily, Break drops the conversation, and begrudgingly goes back to his text about utilitarianism. Reim, too, tries to go back to his calculations, as they wait for Sharon to come back from wherever she has gone.

Chapter Text

Tomorrow is Christmas, and Reim only managed to make it into town today, to get a present for his little sister. In the end, he caved – it’s her first Christmas of being old enough to remember it, probably, so he might as well get her something more expensive that’ll stay with her for a longer time.

Alas, Reim tracked all the way to Build-a-Bear, and he’s not entirely sure how he had temporarily forgotten the fact that going to Build-a-Bear inevitably means interacting with Vincent Nightray.

Funnily enough, however, the first person he spots that he knows is Lily, holding a large bear in her hand that’s clearly just finished getting stuffed. It’s one of the classics, Reim thinks. He smiles automatically just at seeing her. He does miss her, and it’s sad that she of all people doesn’t remember anything at all. Reim wished she did.

“Hi, Reim!” she says, her face lighting up at seeing him regardless. He does see her sometimes at least, and they’re on good terms with each other. And maybe that’s more than Reim could ever ask for anyways.

“Look, Leo got me an early Christmas present!” she says, presenting the Teddy (wearing a Hello Kitty T-shirt) to Reim. And right at that, Leo comes out together with Vincent from behind a shelf. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else in the store apart from them.

“Hi, Reim,” Leo also says, and Vincent just gives him one of those smiles that says ‘you didn’t mean Gilbert any harm at any point, so you’re okay’.

He’s not sure whether to feel flattered or not by the sentiment, given that it’s Vincent. He’s… more normal this time around, but definitely still very eccentric. Gilbert tried to urge him to go to university given his grades, but Vincent didn’t care. He wanted to make sure that he could provide for Gilber in some way to assure him being able to pursue his dream of becoming a vet, or at the least an assistant at a pet clinic of some kind. He also wants to mae sure Elliot and Leo have the best life possible.

“Hello,” Reim requites the greeting, “Elliot isn’t with you today?”

“Nah. Stuck with his family over Christmas. We’re meeting up the day after, though. He’s not that excited about it this year, given that it means he’ll have to actually talk with his father over dinner.”

Ah, right; Reim had heard about the entire coming out thing. Elliot’s mother seems to still be trying to get the homophobia out of her husband. In Reim’s humble opinion, she should just divorce him and take the kids.

She’d get enough money from the guy afterwards to even make up for the costs, he’s pretty sure.

“I see,” he says because he’s not going to reveal to Leo that Break gossiped a lot about this entire thing. “I see you got him a cute little shirt?” Reim asks, but Lily just gives him a little grin.

“She. She’s trans.”

“Ah, sorry for misgendering her,” Reim says with a small smile, giving Lily’s new teddy a few pats, then turning to Vincent. “I’m looking for something for my little sister. Though you might be able to help.”

“Is that everything you’re here for?” Vincent asks, rightfully so. Usually, Reim only visits to talk about their previous lives; he’s not sure he likes Vincent, because ‘like’ is a very strong word either way, but he’s one of the few people he can talk to about the things the others don’t remember.

“Yes, for today, that’s all,” he says, and says his goodbyes to Leo and Lily as they leave the store together.

“Alright. What are you looking for? Should I walk you through the process, or…?”

“No. I know how it works in theory, there’s no need. Just show me the plushies you have, I’ll come back to you once I’ve gathered the rest.”

Reim probably won’t be able to afford more than a plushie and a t-shirt anyways.

*

In the end, Reim settles on a little sheep, also with a Hello Kitty shirt, although not the same that Lily got. And, right when he walks up to Vincent to get the little guy stuffed, the door opens, and Reim stares.

And nearly drops the plushie that he’s holding.

“…Reim,” Sharon stutters, and the hand that was previously holding Break’s immediately lets go of it, disappearing behind her back.

Vincent stares at the two of them and then at Reim, and then gives him a small knowing glance.

For a second, it does feel like his heart is going to stop. They were holding hands, which means that they’re definitely together now, because let’s face it – otherwise this wouldn’t happen. It doesn’t take very long until Reim gets ahold of himself again, though.

“I see, you took my advice?” he says, directed at Break.

And mentally thanks the little Sheep that he’s holding it in his hand right now, because otherwise, he might just take his glasses off to clean them, and that would definitely give away his nervosity.

“Uhm…” Break makes, still staring up at Reim as if he’s gone entirely mad for another second, then also clearly returning back to normal with a little cough. Sharon next to him however looks like she’s dying. “Yeah, I did. Thank you, Reim. You were right. Sometimes, you just need to talk about these things.”

He says it with his regular smile, then turns to Vincent.

“Why the actual fuck do you have to be here when I choose to buy a present for my little sister, actually? I didn’t need to see your damned face on this otherwise so fine morning.”

“…Good day to you, too, Xerxes Break,” Vincent sighs, although with much less bite than Break, and certainly with much less bite than he used to have in his past life. That’s one of the few things Vincent confessed to him. That Break saving his life did affect how he sees him, that most of Vincent’s hatred for him stemmed not even just from the way Break clearly used Gilbert (even though Gilbert was very aware of that and okay with it), but from the fact that Break tried so desperately to live (and then died), while Vincent tried so desperately to live (and then died).

He doesn’t seem to be able to keep up the pretense anymore, though.

“Whatever. Reim, you’re buying something for your own sister?” Break asks, and dances over to him, leaving Sharon standing in the door.

They’re actually together now, as it seems. Reim tries his best to give Sharon a little encouraging smile, but somehow that only seems to make it worse. She flinches a little, but comes over to them anyways.

“Hmm~ Very cute,” Break says, poking the sheep a little bit, still no stuffing inside of it because Reim is still holding onto it for dear life. They’re an actual thing now.
Reim can barely lie.

It does hurt. It’s hard to pretend that it doesn’t hurt, but the least he can do is not cry. He swallows thickly, and hands Vincent the plushie so that he can take care of it. Vincent does give him another one of those small, pitying glances, as if Reim doesn’t already have more than enough self-pity inside of him.

“Sorry,” Sharon suddenly blurts out, “we wanted to tell you latest tomorrow, I promise-“

“It’s fine,” Reim says, very torn between happiness and pain both. “Really. I get it, you just wanted a day to yourselves, it’s okay-“

“No!” Sharon says again, suddenly grasping his sleeve. Reim stares at her hand on his coat, and once more, she just blushes harder and lets go of it, too. “Uh. Sorry. I meant, no it’s not okay. We should’ve told you immediately. I mean, I guess tomorrow wasn’t far off. But still.”

“No, really. There’s no need to apologize,” Reim insists, but gets yanked towards Break all of a sudden, who points at Vincent.

“Look at what he’s doing to your sheep. It looks like he’s fucking it with the machine. Gross. Why’s the stuffing hole on its butt anyways-“

“Gross!” Sharon interjects, and punches Break’s arm to the point he tumbles dramatically into Reim’s arms, so all Reim can do catch them very awkwardly. As if he’s not also in love with this person, and not just Sharon.

…It does look rather crude though, the way Vincent stuffs the poor little sheep. It’s over very soon though, although Break is still clinging to his arm at that point. And Reim can’t lie – it’s nicely distracting from what has just been revealed to him.

It’s alright. Both of them deserve to be happy, and once Reim has gotten used to it, he’s going to be fine.

“There you go,” Vincent says, holding the sheep out to Reim. He takes it from him, and then drags Break along to the counter so that Vincent can ring him up. He has to pay and leave because he still has to help with Christmas preparations. Probably a very good thing, considering that it’ll provide some distraction. Taking his mind off things for a while usually helps greatly.

He pays, Sharon walking up to behind him, and, with a small smile, Vincent suddenly disappears into the hallway next to the counter; the sound of a door locking resounds from within, and Reim is very sure that he’s probably just trying to give them space.

Vincent doesn’t want anything bad for any of them anymore, he knows as much. Brek saving him changed him, and whatever else happened to him while he was in Sablier (that Reim is very sure has got to be linked to the Vessalius girl in some way, he just doesn’t know exactly what happened with them and what their relationship might be. He does have his guesses though) helped, too.

“So…” Reim starts, being the first to break the awkward silence between the three of them. At him clearing his voice, Break finally lets go and steps back towards Sharon to bother her instead. That’s nothing out of the ordinary. They did that long before they got together already.

“You two are official now? Congrats.”

He doesn’t hear any pain in his own voice, which is good. He’s good enough at hiding it then.

“Yeah,” Sharon coughs, a bit awkwardly and with awfully red cheeks, “we- yeah. Break said you kind of knew already anyways. So… yeah. It’s, uh- things happened, and then, yeah- we decided to kind of tell each other at the same time… and we wanted to tell you tomorrow, but- we weren’t planning to meet you here.”

“It’s fine,” Reim says, and really, he means it. He’s fully aware the two of them would’ve told him at one point. He trusts them. His little jealousy issues aside, of course Reim trusts his two best friends of two lifetimes. Or more. It’s not like he’d know. “Really, I know you’d have told me. Uh- what about tomorrow though? Would you rather celebrate Christmas alone?”

“Alone,” Break laughs, “Emily still exists no matter whether we’re a couple now or not. If you’re fine with it, of course we’ll join Christmas again. Relationship or not. I mean, your family’d miss us, too.”

Most of the time, both Break and Sharon (and of course Emily, too) spend Christmas at Reim’s, since Break’s parents are dead, and so is Sharon’s mother. She could spend with her grandmother and her grandmother’s husband, but since the two of them get very lovey-dovey, Reim absolutely understands that she prefers his family over watching Barma and Sheryl flirt.

Reim himself would choose the same for sure.

“Alright,” he says, exhaling a little too himself and smiling at them. No, this is okay. He can deal with this because his happiness at seeing his best friends so happy definitely outweighs the sadness of not being part of this relationship. “I’m glad then. My family would’ve missed you three, too.”

“No, no,” Sharon says, “we’re coming. We’re looking forward to it.”

Reim nods, but the air between them is still a little awkward.

“Uh…” he starts again, “are you getting Emily something from here after all? Or for yourselves, to commemorate the occasion of getting together?”

Suddenly, Break and Reim look at each other a little bit.

“…Yeah,” Break eventually says with that usual really weird smile, “thought she deserved a treat and all! So… uhm… Reim?”

“…Yes?” Reim asks, blinking once through his glasses when Break’s smile grows.

“You’re done here, right?”

…Do they want to get rid of him? Are they seriously trying to get rid of him right now? Reim can only stare, and Sharon does also step on Break’s foot, but they just giggle a little in response instead of complaining about it hurting in any way. Okay. He’s got it. They want him to leave. Reim has no idea why, but hey – maybe they’re going to buy him something here, too, so he shouldn’t press the issue. He just can’t lie; he feels a bit offended that they’re getting his present – their best friend’s Christmas present – only a day before Christmas, but hey. Just if that actually is the case. If not, then uhm, well, Reim has not a single clue what else this would be about.

“…Got it. I’ll… leave,” he says, and Break nods very eagerly, however patting his arm a little bit. “Have fun preparing our food and stuff! You better make it taste good, I’m going to be so hungry tomorrow night.”

Almost mechanically, Reim nods, and grabs his sister’s little sheep a bit more strongly. The way Break wraps their arm around Sharon makes him feel both all warm inside, and a bit bitter. Yeah, honestly – going home would probably be the best course of action for him, anyways.

“Alright,” he says, managing a little laugh even, “I’ll leave, I’ll leave. See you tomorrow then?”

They says their goodbyes back, too, and when Reim turns around to to look through the Glassdoor once more once he’s walked out of the store, the two of them seem to already be fervently discussing their choice of plushie.

Whatever – be they together now or not, they’re still his best friends, and they’re still incredibly stupid.

Chapter Text

“Ugh, that was good food, I feel like I won’t have to eat anything anymore for at least another five years.”

“You say that,” Sharon laughs, “but you’ll be asking Reim for sweets in probably not even an hour.”

“No, what? I’d never do such a thing,” Break responds, but Reim knows that Break would very much do such a thing, and give it maximum sixty minutes, and then he will already be doing said thing.

Still, Break lets themselves fall right back onto Reim’s bed, as if there’s not literally a mattress for him and Sharon on the floor. It’s a bit small, but they make do every year for Christmas when they stay over at his.

Emily is probably in the room of one of Reim’s little sisters by now; they get along very well even though they don’t see each other a lot, but that just means they have to catch up again. Either way, she’s in good hands, and if anything does happen, she knows where his room is, so it’s just fine.

“Alright. What about the rest of tonight? Are you sure you’re okay with being here, and that you wouldn’t rather be alone?” Reim asks, looking at the way Sharon sits down on the bed next to Break to stroke some loose strands of hair out of his face. The gesture looks overly intimate in his opinion, but there’s little he can do about it.

“No, no, no, Reim, listen,” Break says, sitting right back up and nearly bumping his head right into Sharon’s, “we want you here. Oh, oh, let me guess, you’re fishing for compliments? Insecure that we don’t like you the same way anymore?”

Ugh, that brutal honesty; not that he’s right, though. They aren’t really. Reim just doesn’t want to impose.

…Okay, so maybe he does have a little bit of a point after all.

“Xerx, stop,” Sharon sighs, with a short look at her bag, “stop teasing him like this. No, Reim, look- we’re here for a reason.”

Somehow, her cheeks grow a little red at that, and Reim thinks that this is so stupidly cute that it throws him right into panic mode. So, he takes off his glasses and makes sure to clean them (they really don’t need cleaning).

“It’s just- please listen to us first, okay? And don’t get angry?”

Well. That last sentence sounds incredibly ominous. Reim gulps and looks at her, thoughts already beginning to spiral. Not get angry? Did they somehow find out that he’s in love with both of them? That’d be bad. That’d be really bad. He knows he should’ve told them just so that this kind of thing wouldn’t happen.

“Hmm, I don’t see why he’d get angry-“

“If I do the talking, he won’t,” Sharon snaps at Break, who does shut up at that, to Reim’s surprise.

For a second, at least.

“Ah~ angry might be good~”

“…Please, Break,” Reim sighs, “don’t sound so suggestive, what the hell. Your girlfriend is here.”

“So what?” Break asks, a glint in their eyes that Reim can’t really place, “not allowed to flirt with you because of that?”

“Flir-“

“Both of you, quiet,” Sharon sighs, burying her face in her hands for a few second and rubbing away on it as if absolutely and utterly done with their bullshit, “I said I’d do the talking, because Break would of course manage to make all of this into one big mess.”

She gives Break another glare, then looks back at Reim, although only for a second before she casts her eyes back down, as if ashamed of something.

“Look, Reim, it’s been a little bit of a stupid situation. First of all, I’d like to apologize for Emily-“

“She told you,” Reim sighs, mentally already scolding himself because yeah, honestly, why did he trust a child with this kind of information? What made him think that’d be a good idea at all?

“Well- sort of. Don’t blame her, please. She only told us after we explicitly asked, because you were behaving so strangely.”

“I’m sorry,” Reim blurts out. That’s all he knows how to do. “I really didn’t mean to inconvenience either of you in any way. I’m completely fine with your relationship and everything about it, genuinely. I can’t help the bit of jealousy I feel, but I’ll act like it isn’t there at all to begin with. I promise I won’t even let you realize. And really, I’m happy for you, and I mean that- you deserve everything. You deserve this. I won’t meddle in any way-“

Sharon raises her hand, still a tiny smile on her face despite the things she’s just said.

“No, Reim, you don’t get it,” she laughs, and suddenly leans over to grab his hand. Reim lets her, because why wouldn’t he? If this is what he can get, then he’ll take it. If he can get any kind of affection from her again, like he did in his past life, then-

“We want you to meddle.”

“What?” is everything Reim manages to stutter out in pure confusion with another look at the two of them. “What the hell do you mean, you want me to meddle? This is your relationship, and I respect both of you a lot as friends first and foremost. Any other feelings are just- unfortunate. Please don’t feel restricted by them-“

“We’re also in love with you, you dipshit.”

Break says it all casually, with one of his legs pulled up, their hand supporting his chin, looking at Reim as if he hasn’t just dropped an absolute bomb on Reim that Reim isn’t sure he can ever reasonably recover from.

“You- what.”

“Don’t act like you’re not in love with us, Reim,” he continues, getting off the bed to kneel down next to him and grab his shoulders to… massage them. Because of course he would. Because this is Xerxes Break.

“I…”

“Emily asked us about it,” Sharon said, “shortly before we got together already. Well- she asked me whether I was in love with you two, and she asked Xerx the exact same thing, and the answer is yes. However, me and Xerx just- happened to uhm… you know. Sleep with each other before we even mustered up the courage to talk to you about it. And then yesterday when we met you at Build-a-Bear... you weren’t meant to be there, obviously, because we were trying to buy you a present for Christmas, partly as thanks for just- sticking with us for your entire life-“

Lives. Plural. Reim has been with them for more than just one life by now.

“And partly because we’re also both very much in love with you and want you in our lives in the same way.”

Reim thinks that he’s absolutely short-circuiting right here and right now. That was not the outcome he was expecting of that day. Not at all.

He blinks again and again, just staring at the two of them. And specifically at Break’s hands still on his shoulders, although they do slip away a second later. One of them he drops, the other one comes up to his hand to take it.

Now, Sharon and Break are each holding one of his hands.

“…What?” is everything Reim manages to rasp out, still in shock, but Break just laughs.

“Uh-huh. We said it loud ‘n clear, no reason to act so surprised anymore, dearest Reim. Come on, come on, stop looking so sad and lost-“

“You’re not just saying that to cheer me up, are you?” he asks, looking both of them up and down, and then at their hands. Experimentally, he grabs them back a little. Sharon’s hands still feel the same as they did in his last life. It feels almost nostalgic, to be holding her hand again like this.

Almost as if he’d never stopped.

And well, he has held Break’s hands in his previous life, but not in a romantic context at all, so only now can he actively take in what it feels like, and ah. Break’s hands are just pretty bony, actually. It doesn’t feel particularly nice to hold them past the fact that Reim is very much in love with him for whatever fucking reason.

“No,” Sharon says, letting her thumb glide over his hand a few times. And even though she’s blushing like hell, she carries on anyways. “We’re not saying that just to make you feel better. If we weren’t also- in love with you, then I… I’d still talk to you about it obviously, because I wouldn’t want you to feel worse about all of this than you really have to, but I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Neither would Xerx even if he’s… like that.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Sharon?” he asks, raising an eyebrow challengingly and being met with Sharon just glaring back at him.

“You specifically taunted Reim about this instead of letting me do the talking like we’d said yesterday. Anyways, whatever, Reim- you want to be with us, right?”

Reim can only manage a nod, because this won’t sink in. The earliest this is going to sink in is probably when he wakes up tomorrow morning but really – it’s going to take longer than that most definitely. He’s pretty sure.

None of this feels real to him at all.

“Good,” Break says. He gets up from where he’s kneeling besides Reim, then instead sits down… directly in his lap.

Reim stares at him for a bit, especially considering Break sat down in a way that he can face him in, and when Break just goes ahead and takes off his glasses, Reim feels like he might combust.

“Xerx. You’re killing him.”

“So what? Good,” Break says with a small chuckle, and it unironically just sounds… so happy? Reim feels a very distinct blush creep into his face that he can barely help when he’s just been confessed to by two people at once.

“No, not good, don’t overwhelm him. Come on, get off him-“

“Nah,” Break chuckles again and instead just leans in and kisses Reim, which Reim thinks might just actually kill him, but surprisingly, he stays alive even when Break parts from him.

“There we go. Now I can get off him.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, but there’s also a very distinctive smile on her face that makes it very clear she doesn’t actually mind any of what Break was just doing. Which isn’t good, because she should mind the things he’s doing to Reim, because Reim feels like he actually just might explode any second now.

With a little sigh, Sharon gets up, hits the back of Break’s head once he’s climbed off Reim (which only works after Reim has let go of his waist, which he had apparently clung to like hell while Break pecked his lips), and then grabs the small bag from the corner of the room that she’s put there.

“Alright,” she says, “we got you a very cringy present from Build-a-Bear, even when you were literally there when we went to get it.”

She grabs a teddy out from the bag, and it’s got the cringy heart pattern and everything. Heart shirt. Heart pants. It’s so ugly Reim wished he could burn it on the spot, but since it’s a heartfelt gift coming from the two people he loves, he cannot possibly bear to reject it.

…Bear to reject it.

He reaches for it and Sharon presses it into his hands. His mind is still reeling from the fact that Break has, in fact, kissed him, so the fuzzy feeling between his fingers is almost a little grounding to him right now.

Even if the bear is egregiously ugly. It’s still doing his job of getting him back to earth he thinks.

“There. I know he’s awful, but please accept him as your Christmas present,” Sharon says, and Reim thinks that he keeping her hands on his for just a second too long has to have been done on full purpose.

“I… will,” he says, “Break chose most of this, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. That’s why it’s so ugly.”

“Hey.”

Sharon turns around to Break again with one of those sadistic grins on her face.

“You have anything to complain about, Break?” she asks, threatening him with even just her eyes to the point he shrinks away a little, “you sincerely think this isn’t the ugliest bear you could’ve possibly made?”

“…It’s arguably not-“ Break starts, but now Reim finds it in him to complain about it, too, actually.

“It arguably is,” he says, “but it’s okay. I don’t mind it being ugly. I’m not going to say that it’s because it’s a present from you guys-“

“But it’s what you mean,” Break concludes, poking his cheek a little bit. “Cringe.”

“You’re cringe,” Sharon argues, but eventually settles down next to Reim, too. She leans against him a little, and so does Break, and Reim just holds on to this ugly fucking bear, and the smile that creeps on his face is definitely caused by the fact that his two best friends who are in love with each other are also in love with him, not becaiuse of the bear.

Okay. Maybe just a little bit by the bear, too.

Outside, the last tiny ray of sunshine disappears, and Reim thinks to himself that ah, he was majorly overthinking everything that happened in the past few weeks, and that he’s never felt as calm as now with both Sharon and Break leaning against him, the ugliest little bear in his lap that he’s cradling in both hands, and his glasses just a tiny bit clouded with what might be tears.

Chapter Text

Everything has been weird between the two of them for quite a while now. They’ve tried, they really have. Even right now, they’re trying.

And hell, Jack knows that it’s not because they don’t like each other in that way. All of the ‘I love you’s that they have exchanged have very much been sincere, and while in the beginning, it was very hard for him to believe that, he did start believing it the more often Lacie repeated it.

Jack has always been good at spotting lies, even hers. And none of those words felt like lies. Her eyes and smile didn’t feel like a lie, either, so everything he was able to do in the end was believe her.

Her hand in his is warm when she drags him along the streets, much like she used to in their previous lives. Her fingers mean that his are spread out a little more than usual, and it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

It’s been hard ignoring the fact that anything that makes him feel something makes him straight up panic, though. He has to hold on to everything not to start trembling at just the way her thumb swipes over the back of his hand once when they take a turn, disappearing into a smaller alleyway in town.

It’s right at the verge of night right now – or at least what can count as night at the beginning of January when the days are so short; the last rays of the sun are dipping below roofs and illuminating them from down below. Street lamps are throwing shadows that remind Jack of the state of the Abyss when Alyss was the one deforming it. The cold winter wind is howling, yet he feels warm because of her hand, and her scarf wrapped around him so steadily.

“Hey, Jack,” she says, turning around enough to look at him, but still dragging him on to whatever place she’s taking him.

They step up a few stairs, and then they’re at a small platform with a single, free bench on it. There’s no stars up in the sky tonight, hidden by white and grey clouds that Jack can still make out against the light of the moon falling through them.

“Yes?” he asks as she presses him down onto the bench.

“You’re… much more of a mess than I originally thought.”

Well. That’s not a nice thing to say.

“You need to tell me when something is wrong, you know?” she asks, and in theory, Jack knows; it just doesn’t make the practice any easier to theoretically be aware. “I can tell you’re uncomfortable. But I can’t tell what you’re uncomfortable with, nor why. And that’s just- not how relationships work. You never- you never act on anything, either. I mean, I initiate all of the touching. It’s like… you don’t dare doing it.”

She’s not wrong.

He takes a deep breath and tries to suppress the voice in his head that’s telling him just tell her that everything is fine. It’s not just one voice.

Jack is so used to being so many people at once, all of them out to please everyone and everything after what he’s gone through, that voicing his actual concerns and criticism has gotten… hard.

Except for sometimes when it’ll spill out of him without a halt, and without him being able to stop doing so.

“I know,” he forces himself to say, “I’m sorry. It’s really hard for me to voice these things.”

“Why? It’s like you respect me a little too much, you know? I’ve already told you back then. That it feels like you set yourself a line that you absolutely refuse to cross.”

Jack knows, and that’s basically the truth, except it wasn’t as conscious of a decision as she made it sound. It’s just something deep inside of him that feels like he can’t possibly touch Lacie. He doesn’t know whether it’s because she’s too bright or he’s too dark, whether it’s because he cherishes her too much or hates himself too much.

And even after going on dates with her for almost a month, it still manages to feel so wrong.

Maybe it’s just not meant to be.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I mean it. It’s like I just- can’t. I don’t know.”

“Do you hate me, or do you hate yourself?”

“…Both,” he says, “I hate us both. And yet I love you. And it drives me mad.”

Lacie slowly leans against him a little, and it makes his heart beat faster, his throat dry, his mind spin, and it sets off all the alarm bells in his body. As if he shouldn’t be here. As if he doesn’t deserve any of this-

“I don’t deserve this,” he eventually blurts out, bringing his free hand up to his chest and grabbing at his coat. “I don’t deserve being here with you. After everything I’ve done. I shouldn’t have been reborn either way. I was one with the abyss. So were you. Leo shouldn’t have been reborn, either. Gilbert neither.”

Lacie’s fingernails digging into his hand a little bit bring him back to reality just a little bit. Ground him an inch.

“I know,” she says, “but you know what I think? It was you who became once with the core back then. I felt you around me, but admittedly, my memories about that are very hazy. But- the only one who could’ve brought us all back, at roughly the same time on top of that, would be the core. So… you.”

Jack doesn’t remember doing anything of the like. And yet, when he thinks about it-

Wouldn’t that have been his only way to make up for all the things he’s done? After Vincent and Gilbert died, and Oz and Alice were left on their own again. When Elliot got reborn without Leo, and none of the other Baskervilles ever got to see each other again.

Maybe, when his consciousness faded, one single spark inside of him screamed out. Maybe, just once, he made a correct decision.

Everything seems to be fine for everyone this life, except for him, but that’s just karma. He deserves it. Just as much as everyone else deserves good things, Jack deserves bad things, and he’s long gotten around to that fact.

“I wonder,” he says, “whether it might’ve been. I don’t remember doing it.”

“Yeah. I suppose it would make sense, but we can’t know for sure. If it was you, then, however… thank you. And I mean that,” she says, looking up at him with a small smile.
It fades soon however.

“Listen, Jack. I don’t mean to hurt you, but I’m not sure this will work out. I don’t- I don’t know how to treat you, or handle you, and you don’t ever initiate anything. And it’s hard.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Lacie sighs, but still keeps holding his hand, and keeps looking at him.

“It’s- it’s not just your fault, though, you know? I’m not sure I can do it, either. I keep seeing all the things in my head that you’ve done to everyone else, that I’ve seen from the abyss. I keep thinking that I’m going to make you worse again, and that I’m going to be at fault for you doing something… similar again.”

“You were never at fault,” Jack gasps out, then takes a deep breath. His eyes are stinging, but he can’t tell if he’s crying or not. He knows it’s him speaking, but he doesn’t know how he’s managing that through the layers and layers he feels between himself and the outside work right now. “I blame you for saving my life, but no one should be blamed for that. I blame you for lying to me, but in truth, I’ve long seen through your lie back then. You told me to go sell my body, but the one who made the decision to do that was still me, in the end.”

“I don’t blame you either, though,” Lacie sighs, crossing her legs a little bit, and only then does she turn away to the moon. “I did mess up with a lot, too. I shouldn’t have said some of those things in the first place. Maybe neither of us is at fault. Maybe both of us are.”

Leaning back against the bench, Jack looks into the dark, cloudy sky, and then at Lacie next to him. All of him hurts, but this time, he can let it hurt. Because he knows that she’s at least alive, and that she’ll stay alive.

“Yeah,” he rasps out, and then, it goes quiet between them, neither saying the words that they know have to be said between them.

For a while, there’s just silence, but not really; there’s a child crying somewhere, some people talking when they walk up the same slope they’ve walked up just to see that the bench is occupied. There’s the sound of shop doors opening and closing, of some rain a few meters away that never makes it to the two of them, turning around right before it hits them, sparing them the pain of getting wet.

In the end, it’s Lacie who speaks up.

“Alright, Jack. I don’t think this works yet. Not in this life, anyways.”

He knew that the words were going to be spoken out loud at one point. He knew it. He saw it coming for weeks now, ever since they started trying to date. He knew.
That doesn’t mean that it hurts any less though, that doesn’t make him feel like he’s being torn apart in two, that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t feel like Lacie is dying all over again right now.

“Yeah,” he chokes out once more, very much knowing that she’s right.

“It’s not just your fault, though,” she says, eventually pulling him close, finally making a decision for him when Jack wouldn’t dare touch her like this.

Even now, he can’t bring himself to hug her back, even when she’s offering like this. She doesn’t hold him tightly, but she holds him.

“Can we-“ speaking is so stupidly hard. His eyes are burning, and they feel stupidly hot and wet, and he’s not entirely sure whether he’s angry or sad or happy or crying, “can we at least text sometimes?”

“Yeah. I think that’s fine. Maybe we’ll try again one day in this life. Maybe both of us can just do better in ten years or something. We’re still young this time.”

“Where am I meant to go?”

“I don’t know,” Lacie makes, only now letting go of him and shoving her hands back into her pockets. “Where would you like to go? As long as you do some work, the whole world is open. But… this time around, I’m not going to tell you what kind of work. You could do whatever you want to do.”

“I don’t know what I want to do,” he says, and hates the way it comes out almost as a whimper. But it finally feels a bit like himself talking. Or like the person he is with the entirety of all of his ‘Jack’s.

“Then… just try things out. What about travelling? Going abroad? Working physically, maybe?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. “Lacie, I don’t know what to do without you. I don’t know how to live without you.”

“That’s exactly the problem, Jack. And I- I don’t know how to live with you. No matter how much I love you. But those are things we can’t work out together. Maybe this life, you can work out how to live without me. And, in our next, I can work out how to live with you. How’s that sound?”

“And what do I do for those many more decades? I’m- really not sure.”

“You could also just… be with the people you love. I’ve seen Vincent some days ago. He just works at a shop so that he can finance Gilbert and Elliot and Leo if needed. Not that he makes a lot of money, but you know, he could get them through. He just wants to spend time with them. And you know that you have people you can trust this time around, right?”

“People that I’ve hurt,” Jack says, his mind flashing with Oz’s screams back when he made him kill so many people. With Oscar’s face as he nearly succeeded at killing him.

“Yeah. But you could make it up to them, instead of holing yourself up in your room, you know? I’m sure Oz would be happy if you interacted more with him. How about moving with him when he goes off to university?”

“He’s applying here, probably. He’ll get in. He’s a good student.”

“Hmm. Yeah, we probably shouldn’t stay in the same city.”

“I don’t really want to study necessarily,” Jack says in the end. Even if he’s hurting so much, he still knows that they’ll have to find some kind of solution. That he has to figure out what to do, how to make up for all the things he did – not that he could, but he can at least try. “So I can leave. You should stay. I know you’re genuinely interested.”

“Yes. I appreciate that,” Lacie says, diverting her gaze. Some hair falls into her face to the point Jack can’t see her eyes anymore. “You could move on your own. Or like I said, go travelling. Your family has enough money, right? I’m sure Oscar would be very supportive.”

“I could kill Zai for Oz. Maybe that’d make him happy.”

“…Maybe don’t do that,” Lacie says, even grinning just a tiny bit because of it.

It’s probably better if Jack doesn’t tell her that he wasn’t joking about it completely. If Oz asked him, maybe he actually would.

Jack doesn’t particularly care about killing people if he’s honest.

At the same time, though, he very much cares.

“I’ll… figure something out. Maybe travelling is a good idea. I’ll… see about it.”

“Please just… stay alive.”

“I will,” Jack says, because honestly, what’s even the point in dying? Why did he attempt suicide in the first place, if there’s a possibility that he might just remember again in the next life? “I swear- I will.”

He’ll stay alive for the sake of staying alive, if he has to. He’ll stay alive for something that isn’t Lacie.

“We can text from time to time. Just ask how the other is doing.”

Lacie pulls one leg up onto the bench and holds onto it. Her black coat gets all crumpled up because of it. She looks just as lonely and sad as Jack feels.

Neither of them has ever truly learned how to live, neither on their own, nor with each other.

“Yes. I’ll let you know where I am and stuff,” Jack says, “if I ever feel truly ready, I’ll let you know.”

“That’s good,” Lacie agrees. “You should stay here for your birthday, though. I’ve heard that Oz has been planning it for a long time now to make you happy. You should give him the chance. We can keep seeing each other at university and stuff until you leave. Whenever that is.”

“Yes.”

“And then- then, we’ll see each other again in a next life, and maybe then everything will be fine.”

She sounds doubtful, but Jack can’t blame her for that. He doesn’t feel much more hopeful than Lacie does, either, so everything he can do is agree, knowing that they don’t really have another choice.

They used to have a choice once, taken away by him and Oswald and Lacie herself when none of them were willing to save her life.

“Yeah,” he agrees, propping his own chin up in his hand and watching as the clouds travel pat the moon just enough to allow a tiny, tiny little glimpse of it. “We’ll be fine in our next life.”

Chapter Text

When the door to the Build-a-bear opens, Vincent doesn’t even have to look up to see who it is.

“Hello!” comes her voice, and his heart almost instantly beats faster at it.

He never got over Ada Vessalius, neither until his death in his last life, nor in this one.

When he was younger, he tried desperately to hide from her, given that Gilbert made friends with Oz and babysat him pretty early on. Vincent knew for a fact that Ada would probably end up in his family, because everything in this life aligned almost perfectly with the last. So he never went along with Gilbert, and if he did, he made sure that it was at a time when it’d definitely only be Oz.

Not that he likes Oz that much. He doesn’t hold a grudge anymore, and he truly only wants the best for his brother, but some of his possessiveness remained regardless of everything else.

But then, when he was fetching Gilbert from Oz’s at one point because they still needed to go shopping (neither of them ever felt too integrated in the Nightray family, just like in their last life, so they sometimes just cooked together and both moved out as fast as possible), Ada was there.

Only a few years younger than Vincent, too. She was apparently asking for him on and off, and Vincent truly tried his best to get rid of her, but Gilbert must have told her where he works at one point.

Because at this point, she owns at the very least fourteen stuffed toys from his store specifically, given that she’s been coming here every month for over a year now. Vincent has kept count.

How much money does she even spend on those?

“…Hello,” Vincent eventually rasps out, trying not to let her get to him too much. When she’s quite literally the only person who has ever accepted him just the way he is, with all of his ugliness and twistedness.

“I heard you got another batch of the Animal Crossing plushies? I’m still missing K.K. Slider because you were all out of him last month. Is it true?”

Ah, Animal Crossing. It makes a lot of sense that Ada would like that game, Vincent thinks. It feels very her.

“It is,” he says, “I’m not sure we have him anymore, but we should. You can wait here, he’s definitely not in the store, since I was about to close up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I can leave and come back tomorrow if you need me to-“

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he sighs, because it’s true – Vincent doesn’t mind working ten minutes longer or shorter. No, the issue at hand here is the fact it’s Ada Vessalius in his store right now, but she’s still a customer, and he still has to do his job.

“…Okay, if you still have him, I’d really love that! And I very much appreciate you staying a little overtime to get him for me if he’s still there.”

Vincent just nods and then darts into the storage room because he’s not entirely sure how to handle Ada at all, even though she shows up once a month at least. Sometimes, if the chance offers itself, she comes here with one of her friends or even with Oz, without buying anything.

Vincent knows for a fact that she must still love him if she always comes to this Build-a-bear specifically. He might be self-deprecating, but the fact that Ada Vessalius was in love with him was completely and utterly irrefutable. And it remains exactly that, even if she fell in love again in her past life at least.

Sometimes, Vincent watched her from afar, just to make sure that he would know when she dies to at least go to her grave. Which he did. But it also allowed him to see her husband, and her children, and no matter his amount of jealousy, Vincent got to make sure she had a good life.

And if that was stalker behaviour, then he doesn’t think he can really bring himself to care.

So, Vincent walks into the storage room and walks straight towards the three boxes of Animal Crossing plushies, making out some more K.K. sliders in the dim light and grabbing one for the love of his life that he refuses to engage with for the sole reason that she deserves so, so much better than him.

However, there’s no more reason to stall, so he walks back. Even if that means interacting with Ada again, which just hurts him every time.

Every single cell inside of Vincent’s body wants her. And he doesn’t even mean that in the sexual way, although he wouldn’t say no to it. All he really wants is to just… be with her. It’s why he finds it so hard to say no to her even in situations like this. Even when he could risk losing his job by telling her to stay away from him, that he has no interest in her.
And it’d be a lie, and he feels like Ada might just be able to tell as much.

When he comes back into the actual room, Ada is staring at some of the small accessories they have, eventually grabbing one of the very small teddy bears they have that you can put onto another teddy’s arm. She smiles at it a little bit and squeezes it once, and Vincent tries his hardest not to let it get to him so much.

Precisely this smile is why he can’t be with her. Because she’s way too good for him. Because Ada deserves so much better than him. This smile deserves so much better than him.
Vincent, too, squeezes a plushie, but it’s the white dog he’s holding, and he very quickly stops once he realizes what he’s doing. He’s not a little child anymore that has to hold onto toys. In fact, Vincent has lived for so much longer than just one lifetime.

Searching the entire world for Alice and Oz at one point, just for them to appear right in front of him this life.

It really is too perfect. He has no idea how the abyss made this happen when it really shouldn’t have as much control over them.

“Oh, you found him!” she exclaims, then holds up the small teddy towards him, “I didn’t know you sold small teddies for the teddies, that’s adorable! I’ll buy one and just put it on the shelf next to the others I think. Oh, it’s so cute I love it so much. And obviously I love him, too.”

She points at the Animal Crossing plushie with her chin, her eyes glittering so much that Vincent feels like she’s at least partly there for the plushies, and not just for him, actually.
He hands it to her, and makes very sure that their fingers don’t touch, however making sure that he still has the customer service smile on his face, since he doesn’t want to risk getting kicked out because of bad reviews.

Although something tells him that Ada would never leave a bad review. Much too kind for that; this girl wouldn’t be awful to employees at any rate.

“Say, Mr Nightray-“

“Just Vincent is fine.”

It slips him before he can help it, knowing that the sole reason for it is the fact she only called him ‘Vincent’ in their past life, too.

“Alright!” she says, still all sunshine-smile and whatnot. “Say, Vincent. There’s probably no way you’re interested in me, right?”

Every single thought or idea that Vincent had in his mind about what Ada Vessalius might be about to say, holding a video game plushie and another brown, tiny bear, flies right out of his head.

Vincent blinks once, twice, three times, the words she said repeating in his mind over and over again. He blinks another time.

“Excuse me?”

“Ha… yeah, that’s what I thought,” she makes very sheepishly, “I was- too shy to ask you out all this time I’ve been coming here although- I did also come for the plushies, I promise! It’s just. I was just wondering whether you would ever go out with me, even if it’s just once, you know? If you decide that you don’t like me then, then I wouldn’t mind, and it’d be up to you of course- I wouldn’t pressure you into anything.”

Everything inside of him tears apart and shatters. Not just because of her words, but also because of the way she fidgets with the two plush toys, cheeks burning red just like the time Vincent leant in to pick that small leaf out of her hair back on their first date that Ada doesn’t remember, won’t ever remember.

The orange sweater that she’s wearing makes her look even softer than she already looks to begin with. Her hair, in a bob cut – much the same as the one the actual Headhunter gave her when Vincent went out of control in Sablier – frames her red face, and Vincent just wants to cup one of her cheeks so badly; tell her that he wants nothing, nothing more than for Ada to give up on him.

To give up on a man that she is way too good for.

“Ada…” he starts, voice trailing off, ultimately realizing that he doesn’t know what to say to her at this point.

“That’s- if you don’t want to go on a date with me, there’s no need to worry. But even just talking would be enough. Anywhere that isn’t your work. If not- then you just need to tell me.”

He has to say something, because slowly but surely, there’s tears gathering in her eyes, and Vincent cannot stand to see her cry. He’s made her cry more than enough, telling Gilbert to tell her that he died. She seemed to have understood. Gilbert is a horrible liar. She must’ve seen right through it all.

And before that, he made her cry more than often enough already.

“I just- I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but Jack and his girlfriend broke up, and he didn’t… say a lot about it. Just that they knew from the beginning they couldn’t have stayed together, but that they at least wanted to try. So I guess I just… wanted to know whether we could try? Whether I could try? Haha, sorry, I’ll just- I’ll just pay.”

She steps towards the counter without Vincent being able to say anything at all to her. He feels his throat bobbing as he swallows, feels several parts of his body become stupidly sweaty with panic. He feels dizzy as he also walks to the counter, awkwardly grabbing it with his hand in a futile attempt to steady himself even just a little bit.

“Ada. I don’t know what- I don’t know why you would-“

“Truth is I’ve- had a crush on you for years now, Vincent,” she makes, awkwardly wiping away some of her tears that threaten to fall out of her eyes. “Like I said, if you tell me to go scram and not come back, I absolutely will- I just need to know.”

She just needs to know. And how does she expect him to know, actually? How would he know what the hell to do about any of this when so much has already happened between them which she doesn’t know anything about?

In fact, being with her without Ada knowing about the past would feel like taking advantage of her, and he’s already done that in their past life. He’s already hurt her so much, and Vincent doesn’t want to hurt her any more than he already has.

“Ada,” he repeats her name, taking the two plushies from her and scanning them, watching as she grabs her card to pay. He holds out the card reader to her. “I don’t know why you would… want that.”

It’s not yet ‘why you would want to be with someone as wretched and awful as me’, but he hopes that enough is implied.

“Uhm… because you’re very nice, Vincent! I get it if you don’t want to, I really do! I just think- you’re really nice and kind. And… have always been. Remember when we were younger, and Oz fell from that tree, and Gilbert wasn’t there so you stayed with him the entire time as he cried? I just thought- that made you really cute.”

“I’m everything but nice,” he stutters, watching as she pays and the receipt is printed. He hands it to her.

“No! It’s- do you just need time to think? This isn’t a definitive ‘no’, is it?”

Oh, time to think. She’s giving him time to think. She’s actively giving him time to think and that’s an offer he could take her up on, but the pure thought of that sends shivers of apprehension down her spine.

She’s asking for just one date, right? And after that, she’ll end things all naturally because surely Vincent can make her leave. In his past life, he didn’t manage to be awful to her and thus faked his death. This time, maybe he can muster up the courage to actively make her share his opinion on himself so that she can once more find someone else to spend her life with. Someone better than him.

This sounds like a good plan to his panicked mind right now which he will sure realize roughly ten minutes from now.

“Alright. Just once.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go out with you. Just once.”

And after that, you won’t want anything to do with me anymore, either way.

Her entire face lights up at that, and Vincent understands the cheesy meaning of ‘a person feeling like a sun to me’ more than anything right now.

The fact that it’s him prompting this reaction right now – he can barely get behind that. He can barely understand that anyone would be so happy when he agrees to a date.

“Alright! Thank you! Here, wait, let me give you my number, I don’t know it by heart-“

“No need,” Vincent says, “I’ll get it from Gil later. Don’t bother.”

“Ah! Alright, okay, sure!” she makes, clearly flustered but equally as excited. “I’ll- wait for you to text me then!”

She clutches both her phone and the plushies against her chest, and Vincent feels like he’s just made a grave mistake.

Chapter Text

“You have a what now?”

Gilbert stares at Vincent as if he’s lost it completely. So does Noise, seated on the windowsill across from them because she refuses to sit at the table like a normal person. Her and the stupid Hatter have a lot in common. Maybe she should start dating him, Sharon, and Reim or something. Might get her out of his hair.

(Vincent loves her, really.)

“A date with Ada Vessalius,” Vincent answers, and clearly that is not the correct answer, because his brother and Noise both make a noise of discontentment.

“Vince…” Gilbert starts, looking him up and down, “are you sure you’re going on a date with Ada?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he says, “don’t act like I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not the one who forgets half of what I’m doing every day-“

“Hey,” Noise says, glaring at him. “Echo at least lets me know. Clearly, the two parts you’re meant to have in your brain aren’t connecting.”

“Haha, right,” Vincent laughs, remaining unable still to hide the despair laced into his voice. He has not a single clue as to why he agreed to this, but if it’s just one date, and then he can tell her that he doesn’t like her that way (a lie) and that there’s no way he’d want to spend his life with her (also a lie).

“Vince… why did you say yes? I thought you’d been avoiding her forever, basically. I mean, you always complain when she shows up in your store… you don’t really seem to like her, you always refused to even just come with me when I went to Oz’s and she was there. You know, if you don’t want to do it… I can also say no to her.”

“No,” Vincent says immediately, “she just wanted to try and- I’ll just tell her afterwards that we’re not meant to be or something and hope she accepts it. You can have her.”

Gilbert looks at him with wide eyes, and incredibly confused.

“Me? Why would I- I’m not into her- not like that, we’re just friends-“

“You’re not convincing anyone by stuttering like that,” Noise comments with a small laugh, which seems to make Gilbert actually angry. He turns around to Noise to glare at her, although that barely looks threatening considering he has a kitten on his arm that’s purring away quietly.

Seeing Gilbert so openly handling cats and even owning multiple of them (albeit on accident) still feels more than unreal to Vincent. It feels like it should be illegal, frankly. But no, he’s quietly petting Cheshire, who’s curled up against his armpit, half asleep, half awake and purring.

Even if Vincent wasn’t entirely sure whether Gilbert has his memories or not, latest that fact that he has cats would make it abundantly clear that he doesn’t carry any of them.
“Seriously,” Gilbert says, “I’m not into her. I- I honestly view her as a little sister, so that’d just feel weird to me. If Vincent wants to go on a date with her, that worries me, but for completely other reasons. Vince, I thought you disliked her? Do you?”

The question being asked so directly takes him off-guard. Usually, Gilbert skirts around his words a little more, but he’s clearly very concerned about both him and Ada, as well as Oz, by extension.

Because if anyone hurts Ada, they’d have to deal with Oz. Vincent doesn’t trust the brat, and he will be preparing himself for childish but very harmful pranks upon rejecting Ada.

“It’s… complicated,” he makes. He has to explain this without mentioning their past life; in his past life, Gilbert knew that Vincent loved Ada. But to explain that to him now, that’s practically impossible. “I don’t… hate her. I can’t explain this to you, Gilbert. I don’t hate her, but-“

“Ah, ah, ah, I know,” Noise starts, finally hopping off the windowsill and strutting over towards them. At least she’s wearing an actual pullover today, which, given that this is Noise, is a rare instance. Echo must’ve scolded her enough the last time she caught a cold for the two of them because she wore only a summer dress in winter; Noise really has a pattern of this and truly never let it go even after their past lives.

Only when she’s in front of Vincent does she slap her hands down onto the table and grin at him.

“In reality, you actually like the brat quite a bit still.”

‘Still,’ Vincent repeats in his mind, and Gilbert also cocks an eyebrow at that. She’s not wrong; ‘still’ in the sense of he loved her both in his past life, and now.

“The actual issue is just that you can’t overcome your self-hate, no matter who tries to save you from it, and even though it was better once, it got worse again.”

Vincent punches the table with his fist and makes it a very big point to glare at her as if Noise was the one responsible for his self-worth issues.

Which she isn’t; Noise is one of the only people who improved them. Because they were both weird. And nowadays, they both still are weird. And, since Noise has all of her memories still, she also remembers that their relationship was more sibling-like than anything else. Alas, they haven’t hooked up in this life.
And they’re most definitely not going to either.

“Shut up,” he grunts, “leave me alone.”

“Vince…” Gilbert says, blinking a bit. “All this time… you liked her? And you just kept away because you were scared she’d reject you, or that she deserves better than you?”

Can these two stop psychoanalyzing him? Isn’t it Lacie and Jack who study psychology, not these two? If Break psychoanalyzed him, Vincent could still accept it – he acts like he hates Break, but really, he has kind of a soft spot for him after he literally saved his life – because he at least studies philosophy.

But a to-be-vet and what’s basically a high school kid this time around?

Vincent absolutely refuses to heed their words in any way if they try to tell him what to do about this.

Silently, Gilbert puts Cheshire down onto the floor. The kittens are getting big, admittedly. They’re barely kittens anymore. Vincent is pretty sure that Alyss and Oz will pick theirs up next week. It’s truly about time for that.

Once Gilbert has smiled enough at Cheshire walking away and attacking his siblings, he turns back to Vincent and reaches across the table, for his fist that he’s tormented the table with earlier. Now, his smile looks much sadder than when he was smiling at the cat.

“Is this what’s bugging you about this, and not actually Ada herself? Don’t tell me that you actually liked her all this time?”

Vincent doesn’t have it in him to answer.

No answer appears to be enough of an answer for his brother either way, apparently.

“You… all this time, you’ve actually liked her? And you were just scared that she’s too good for you? Oh, Vince. Oh, Vincent, you idiot.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him for years now,” Noise huffs, planting herself right on the table. She looks at Vincent, then leans over and ruffles his hair very roughly, to the point that it actually kind of hurts.

“Are you the only one who knows?” Gilbert asks, and Vincent very quietly shakes his head.

“No. Reim also knows.”

“…Reim,” Gilbert echoes. “Why the hell does Reim know?”

And well, Vincent can barely explain to him that it’s because they’ve briefly talked about the past, and Reim very obviously had noticed his feelings for Ada. Vincent had always been aware that Reim is a very observant man. He knows people, and he has to know people, considering how long he’s worked for Rufus Barma in the past.
Either way, Vincent can’t tell his brother the truth – which he does feel mildly guilty about, considering that he’s already lied to him so much in their past life. Not that Gilbert would remember.

“We talked about it one day. Because of- well, you know. The whole thing with Sharon and him and Break. So we just… well, anyways, he knows.”

Vincent can’t even find another reason as to why Reim would know. He’ll just have to blame it on ‘Reim being Reim’ if it comes down to it, but luckily, Gilbert doesn’t press any further, noticing his discomfort at the topic.

“Okay, so, Reim and Noise knew. You didn’t tell me because… I’m friends with her?”

He doesn’t even have to shake his head for Gilbert to realize he’s wrong. A quiet laugh escapes him, and then, Gilbert’s hand (the one he had Raven burn off for him the last time) also comes down into his hair to ruffle it even more.

“No, no, I know. You were scared that I was going to tell you that you do deserve her, right? But I will tell you that, actually, Vince. You deserve to be with someone you like. You deserve good things. I don’t know why you always think that you’re the worst person alive, because you’re not. I remember when you were drunk one day and told me that you decided on working at Build-a-Bear because you genuinely wanted to make children happy, when before, I just thought that you took the job to make money and you just applied to whatever you could. I didn’t realize you like children until then.”

Vincent isn’t sure whether he would say that he likes children. All he knows is that one person who thinks he’ the worst human to ever have lived is enough in the world. And if he can play just a small, tiny part in avoiding this happening to other kids, then he might as well. Last time, he found Alice and Oz for Gilbert, and that was the only ting giving him meaning. This time, they were there right from the beginning. There was no searching to do.

And Vincent was without a reason, so he tried his best to find one.

Noise also glances at him, seemingly unsure whether the statement about children is actually true.

“…Whatever.”

“No, not whatever, Vince,” Gilbert insists. “It’s good you agreed to go on that date with her. Because… look. Even if it was true that you weren’t worth it. You sincerely believe Ada Vessalius would care about such trivialities?”

In his past life, everything Gilbert wanted was to be worth something to someone. So, at the bold statement, Vincent gives him a small smile.

“Vince. She’s completely and sincerely in love with you. She doesn’t care whether you’re too bad for her, or whatever. That’s not what she’s like at all. So, you can stop worrying about that. She genuinely just wants to get to know you properly.”

“I know,” Vincent says, “and her not caring is precisely why she’s too good for me-“

“Too good for you, too good for you,” Noise repeats, then releasing a sound very similar to a hissing cat, which makes two of the kittens turn around to them in confusion. “Who cares? Who gives a single damn? If you want to be with her, and she wants to be with you, then what’s so wrong about that? As your big sister, I command you to go on that dumb date with her and enjoy it.”

“…You’re younger than him,” Gilbert says, and just receives an angry little glare about it.

But no; Noise is, in fact, older than Vincet. Just not now.

“Didn’t ask, don’t care,” she says, “either way, Gilbert, give him her number, and text her for him if you have to.”

At that, Gilbert looks slightly taken aback, but still obliges. He grabs Vincent’s phone from him, and then his own, typing the number in for him and then pulling up her chat.
Only then does he hold his own phone back out to Vincent.

“Here you go. Now you text her, and then you find time and place for your date, and then you go on said date. Do it while I’m still here so that I know you’ve done it, and I’m only here for another hour or so, because I need to help Oz book something for Jack’s birthday, since he’s not eighteen yet.”

Of course. Of course Gilbert would put actual pressure onto him, even if it’s done with good intentions and a smile.

Yet, Vincent reaches for his phone, takes it, and starts typing. He’s going to keep it to a simple ‘when and where?’, since he’s not sure he can bring himself to text her more than that right now. Vincent isn’t much of a texter, anyways. He’s been told countless times that he sounds horribly dry over text, hence he’s long stopped trying about it.

It’s good enough.

Noise, who’s looking over his shoulder, releases a noise of contempt at seeing the message, but effectively doesn’t say anything.

Gilbert also looks rather disappointed in him, but proud for the sole fact that he actually texted her.

The response comes only two minutes later.

‘We could go for a walk in the park and get a coffee at some café around there?’

Not that much different from their dates in the past, eh? She truly hasn’t changed.

The doubt isn’t erased from Vincent’s mind yet, but he also can’t say that Gilbert and Noise don’t have any reason at all. If he indulges a little, then is it really so bad? If it’s just one single date, then surely, it’s alright to just be with her again for a bit?

He can’t help the smile coming to his face, and neither can he help bringing his hand up to his ear to play with the emerald green earring inside of it.

Chapter Text

“I’m here already,” Vincent says, and on the other end of the phone comes a little confused noise.

“Huh? I can’t see you. I’m at the small lake-“

“That’d explain it,” Vincent sighs, “I’m at the entrance. I’m walking towards you, see you in a minute.”

He hangs up before she can say any more, then puts his phone back into his pocket so that he can place his hands into them, too. Just to not feel them tremble anymore, because that makes his fear way too real. Vincent shouldn’t be scared of going on a date with a girl. He’s been on so many dates in his life already, most of them with girls (it was true what he said to the Nightray family, though; he’s been with boys before); this shouldn’t be making him nervous.

Then again, Ada is the only one he’s ever truly loved in the romantic sense. At the beginning, the dates with her were also not motivated by a romantic emotion, but she captured his heart in ways he didn’t think it could ever be captured.

Vincent didn’t think himself worthy of this sort of love. But he also didn’t think himself capable of it.

Still, he walks forward, towards the small lake in the park, in the hope that this will all be over soon, that he can leave her alone for another life.

“Vincent!” comes the shout in the voice he’s secretly been aching to hear; she’s right in front of him, coming into view at the same time as the lake when he walks out from the bunch of trees in the park.

Her hair is tied up into pigtails this time, making her look a lot younger than she actually is, but also very cute. She’s dressed in green sweater today, and a black skirt, looking rather formal. She walks over to him and reaches out her hands towards him a little, but Vincent doesn’t take his own out of his pockets, just looking away.

“Hi,” he says, “I’m here.”

“Yeah,” she says with a smile, “you are. I’m very glad.”

Her hands to end up touching him, but what they do is straighten his black button-up a little. He hadn’t even realized it had gotten all wrinkled while walking.

“Should we grab a coffee first or walk first?” she asks, completely undisturbed by his attitude. But this time, Vincent doesn’t need Oscar’s key. He doesn’t need anything from her.

And yet, at the same time, he needs everything from her. The adoration in her eyes is as plain as day, and something inside of him starts crumbling.

So, why shouldn’t he indulge? Of course he can’t have a relationship with her. Ada doesn’t remember. If she did, would that innocent smile still be on her face? Would she still look at him like that? Most probably not. Vincent doesn’t want to take advantage of the fact that she doesn’t remember. He knows that Reim used to feel the same, too. But now that he knows both Break and Sharon love him anyways, it stopped mattering to him.

But Reim never did anything bad. Vincent, meanwhile? The things he’s done for money, for profit, for gain, for the Nightray family and the Baskervilles both; he’s a vile person. He’s nothing like uptight and respectable Reim.

“Walking first is fine,” he says, and Ada nods eagerly.

“Just around the lake once, and then we just follow the paths? It’s a big park, so it’s going to take a while if we take all of them,” she says, that big smile still on her face.

Sometimes, her eyes flicker to his earrings and then back, to his eyes, both of them golden this time around. Not that anyone still cares about children of misfortune these days. People barely even cared about Break anymore; Vincent was just born in the wrong time back then.

“That’s alright,” he says, rolling his shoulders once to get himself to loosen up. This is just once. It’s fine to indulge just once.

Very slowly, he retracts his hand form his pocket and holds it out towards her.

“…Are you sure that’s okay?” she stutters, suddenly a blush creeping onto her cheeks, the smile fading from her face in what’s surprise or shock or a mixture of both.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be offering,” he says, unable to keep the mildly annoyed touch out of his voice.

“Yeah, right,” Ada responds. She scratches her cheek with her index finger for a little while before eventually grabbing his hand. She doesn’t intertwine their fingers, but just holds his hand, clasping her thumb over his knuckles.

They start walking, and at first, it’s quiet apart from the kids playing football and screeching away, and apart from the few birds that are already singing away as if it’s not still showing snow nearly every day for the weather forecast; not that a lot of it stays. The coat that Ada is wearing above the sweater and skirt is a dark green, much like Oz’s jacket, and Vincent isn’t sure it’s going to protect her from the cold very long, since it looks kind of thin.

Is he going to be made to give her his own coat, too?

“Alright, Vincent. What do you do when you’re not handing annoying girls their third Animal Crossing Build-a-Bear crossover plushie?”

“I’m… mostly with Gilbert,” he starts, because okay; if Ada tries to actually make conversation with him, then he will also try his best to respond.

Just one day.

Just this once.

“When I’m not with him… well, I have a friend, Noise, btu she’s still in high school. I do go to parties sometimes. Do drugs and stuff.”

Ada doesn’t even seem very taken aback by that.

“Haha, I could tell from your Instagram.”

Not even the drugs can deter her, apparently. Which means a lot; because usually, when Vincent talks to girls, he just straight up tells them that he does hard drugs every now and then, and most people, both girls and boys, actually, not just girls, get very weirded out by that.

But Ada doesn’t even care about that.

“What kind of parties are they, though? I can never really tell whether it’s a private or a public thing from your posts.”

…Vincent isn’t entirely sure whether she wants to know the answer, and whether he wants to give an answer.

“…They’re organized,” he says, clearing his throat once, “you need tickets to get in it’s… a community thing. I don’t have proper friends there, but a lot of acquaintances.”

That’s the best way he can describe this sort of party. Ada’s smile falters for a second and her face twitches in what Vincent can only guess is embarrassment. She must’ve realized just what sort of parties those are.

Well. Vincent already tried to phrase it as nicely and child-friendly as he possibly could, in his defense.

“Well, it’s nice you have fun, though!”

And she sound so genuine about it. The thing is, after seeing that… torture room, Vincent is very sure Ada wouldn’t not enjoy those parties. He’s not going to think about that any further.

“I… suppose,” he rasps out, then suddenly remembers that you’re meant to ask questions back, especially on dates, “and you?”

“Ah…” she says, “looking for work at the moment, mostly. I was working as a cashier for some years because I wasn’t entirely sure of what I wanted to do, but I might go into some education thing? I’d have to go to school again for that, so I’m just looking into it at the moment. I try to hang out with Oz a lot, make up for our father, you know… and of course I’m visiting Gilbert a lot because of the cats right now!”

The mention of his brother gets Vincent to snort out a tiny laugh.

“Yeah. Gilbert and his cats.”

“Gilbert and his cats,” she repeats, also chuckling a bit, and then growing a tiny bit more solemn. “Sincerely, Vincent… I’ve been trying for ages to ask you out now. Why did you suddenly say yes?”

She stops walking; next to them is small garden of what would be flowers if it weren’t for the fact that it’s the tenth of January.

Her hand is still held in his, and Vincent unconsciously squeezes her hand a bit, only realizing it once he actively sees it. It’s what makes him tear his hand back, unable to not feel guilty about this. This is exactly what he was scared of. Her suddenly addressing this.

“Well… you said just one date is enough.”

“So it’s really just to get rid of me after?”

Of course there’s a hint of sadness in her voice, no question; but first and foremost, she sounds weirdly understanding.

“Even if that’s the case,” she laughs, laughs, “I’m still glad you gave me the opportunity, you know? So just relax, alright? You’re all tense and stuff, that can’t be very healthy.”

Not scolding him for taking unhealthy drugs, but scolding him for being a little tense on a date, really?

She’s so horribly understanding.

Vincent truly doesn’t deserve her.

“You’d rather go grab a drink first?”

“…No. Walking is fine,” Vincent says, unable to say much else. This time, it’s Ada who reaches out her hand, and uncharacteristically shyly, Vincent takes it. Clings to it, almost like a child.

It earns him another small smile.

“Alright. We’ll walk then. It looks like it’d snow any second, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Vincent says with a short look into the sky.

The mundane conversation feels so contradictory to all the feelings swirling inside of him right now. He loves her so much, but he shouldn’t, for her own sake. She’s so innocent, not knowing of how much of an impact she truly had on him. The first to try and protect him. The first to truly ever forgive him, when not even his own brother could.

The first to not even consider leaving when even Gilbert nearly walked away from him so many times, nearly left him alone in the cold streets in those thin blankets and worn-out clothes, with his dirty hair and dirty little heart.

“You think it’s gonna snow on Jack’s birthday? Are you coming, by the way?”

“Yeah,” Vincent says, “Gilbert and Oz talked me into it. Otherwise, I’d have declined.”

“Because I’ll be there?” Ada asks, chuckling just a little bit, but her gaze grows a bit distant for a while. Vincent doesn’t miss it. He’s learned to read people.

And he knows that Ada still genuinely loves him. Rejecting her fully and properly is going to hurt. For both her, but also for him, even if he’s going to be the one doing the rejecting.

“I can’t lie,” he begins, words drawn out a little, “it’s part of the reason. No, I’m just- not the fondest of Jack. I don’t know him that well. I’m not sure what to think of him.”
That much is true.

He thought he knew him, but in the end, he didn’t at all. Jack always just used him. Used him to open the gates, used the fact that he so desperately didn’t want to exist anymore.
When he could’ve forgiven him for existing, like Ada did instead.

How laughable.

Who but her would have a heart big enough?

“Yeah,” Ada says, “he’s fickle. But he’s trying, you know? Him and his girlfriend broke up, but… they’re still talking. He’s probably going to go abroad somewhere. He’s moving cities first, just to see how he feels about staying in the country and working somewhere, but he might go abroad. I think that’s a good thing. He needs to get out.”

“I suppose so.”

Vincent doesn’t like Jack, but he understands him. If he understands anything, it’s guilt, and Jack’s might just be bigger than his, still.

“Hmm,” Ada makes, then pulls him along a little bit further until they’re standing below a large tree. Against his own will, he feels his jaw relax a bit. It looks a lot like the tree that she once read a book under, to those kids. When they were out together. Latest then, Vincent had realized that he was gone for good. It’s not the same tree, but the size and everything else – it’s the same.

“Say… Vincent. Can I ask something… that’s maybe a little bit weird?”

Her voice is trembling, and she diverts her gaze, but Vincent sees it.

Vincent sees the tears in her eyes, he feels the tremble going through her entire body, since their hands are still connected. He sees the way she goes all stiff and tense suddenly.

“…Yes,” he states, unable to really say more than that, a little bit taken aback by this sudden reaction.

Despite whatever strong emotion she’s feeling right now, Ada looks up. Because she’s always been like this. She’s always been strong like this.

“Vincent. Was I… really always just a pain in the neck? Did you really always just want me out of my sight? Do you- did you… Did you really never love me?”

A gust of wind ruffles the leaves of the tree behind him, as well as Ada’s short hair. It diverts the course of the one tear suddenly rolling down her cheek, just a bit, until it drops right off her chin after a few more seconds, and Vincent stares.

He stares at her, helpless, his fingers on her loosening, but Ada grabs him tighter.

“I’m not expecting anything of you,” she adds hastily, “but- to me, it sounded like you said these words to make our parting easier. It sounded like you wanted me to let go of you, like you wanted me- gone, because you think you don’t deserve it or something. Because you- when I saw you, back then, and I said that I forgive you, I meant it! All those things, Vincent… I meant all of them! But now, when you- I can’t tell what you meant and didn’t mean anymore. You didn’t have to protect me by lying to me. Or- maybe at the time, you did. But you don’t have to anymore. I can take the truth.”

Vincent freezes.

He freezes, looking at her, her emerald green eyes the same colour as his earring, the hair as short as Miranda Barma cut it when he got out of control; he looks at her trembling lip and the way a shiver goes through her body and brings more tears to her eyes.

Vincent watches as she breaks apart in front of him in the one way he never wanted her to.

The realization hits him just as much as when he first realized he loved her, below that tree, her soft voice carried through the leaves and into the sky.

He was wrong.

Ada Vessalius remembers.

All this time, Ada Vessalius remembered.

Chapter Text

Before he can say anything, do anything, it starts raining; not even slowly, no, it’s like the clouds are breaking apart in a millisecond, and then it’s straight up pouring.

It takes both Vincent and Ada a while to realize that they’re being drenched, the tall tree above them barely protecting them from the rain, not carrying any leaves yet.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and the spell breaks. Ada Vessalius remembers. But either way, he doesn’t need her soaked from head to toe, so all he knows to do is take off his jacket and quickly put it over her head, signaling for her to take it.

A little confused, she does, holding it over her to shield herself from the rain.

“…Thank you,” she mumbles.

“Let’s go to mine. It’s only five minutes from here.”

“Ah… I didn’t even know where you live,” she chuckles awkwardly, but Vincent doesn’t miss the tremble in her voice, the bitten back sob. He doesn’t miss her red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes even when there’s some raindrops still clinging to her face, too.

“It’s not far,” he reiterates. “Come on.”

As if by instinct, he reaches out his hand, and Ada takes it without hesitating for even a second, and then they’re running.

It doesn’t feel much different from when they ran through Yura’s mansion. Except there’s no life or death threat now.

And now, someone has forgiven him. And she still remembers forgiving him. And she still does forgive him.

How the hell could his heart not feel warm at this?

It’s good that he’s taking the lead, because this way, he doesn’t have to look at her. And, with how many splash noises his feet are making when he runs through the quickly forming puddles, Vincent also has enough distraction to keep him from panicking.

The walk to his flat is even shorter when he runs there, he realizes. They’re at his in no time, and he rips open the door to the apartment complex, holding it open for her.

After that, the two of them are left panting for a bit. Vincent not as much as Ada; he’s more used to running. He’s run a lot in his past life. In this one, too; however, that was mostly to not get caught by the police during the time when he was actively selling drugs. He didn’t want to waste his second attempt at a life in prison, please and thank you.

“Hah… that was something,” Ada mumbles, and then the awkwardness kicks in.

Vincent lets go of her hand, retracting it as if he had been burnt. He might as well have been.

Ada looks away, too, giving another one of these nervous laughs.

There’s no way around this, is there? Yeah, no. He can’t hurt her. She asked him not to hide things from her anymore. Not to lie to her anymore. And when he’s simply offered such a thing, then how the hell could he possibly decline?

Vincent has never been a strong man, and he certainly isn’t now, either.

“Come,” he says, “let’s go upstairs first. You’ve gotten all soaked.”

“…You’ve got it worse than me,” she says. Finally, there’s a smile back on her face again. “You gave me your jacket, remember? I had some kind of cover.”

Not a lot, Vincent thinks upon seeing how wet her clothes have gotten anyways.

…Will he have to lend her clothes? Before she catches a cold, probably. The thought makes him feel fuzzy. It’s not a feeling that he deserves to feel. Not about her.

Not about anyone.

“Still,” he says, “I’ll- give you a change of clothes. We have to talk. I know you’re not going to leave until we’ve talked.”

“Hehe… yeah, I won’t.”

Clearly, she’s cheered up by this. Her smile is genuine. Vincent hates just how radiant she really is. Everything about her shines to him. In fact, everyone shines to him, given how he’s always been in the darkness, but Ada Vessalius takes it to a whole new level.

So, with a sigh, Vincent leads her up to her flat. It’s not like he has much of a choice.

(He does. He’s just trying to convince himself that he doesn’t.)

Once inside, he grabs her a change of clothes, and ushers her towards the bathroom before she can try to do anything else. Then, he grabs himself new clothes, and a towel for his hair that he just quickly dries it off with. The rest can dry naturally. He doesn’t particularly care.

He’s back before Ada, so he also turns on the water boiler and grabs two cups and his tea.

It’s not just Ada that knows little about him. Vincent also knows quite little about her, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t know how she likes her tea. Probably with milk and sugar. Probably the exact way Vincent hates his own.

When Ada finally steps out of the bathroom after what feels like hours, Vincent’s heart stops.

He underestimated the effect that Ada in his own clothes could have on him, given the fact that first of all, his t-shirts are designed for men – it brings out the more… voluptuous parts of her body. Okay, he mentally scolds himself, no looking at Ada’s massive boobs. Not the time. But second of all, her in his black t-shirt and sweatpants (that she doesn’t really fit into, but it’s the widest thing Vincent owns, and her skirt will probably dry fast enough) feels so stupidly domestic. Like they’ve been together for ages, like this is their every day life.

Like he never tried to use her. Like he never had his brother tell her that he died. Like he never pushed her away because he was always, always too afraid to be with her.
“Hah… thank you for the clothes,” she mumbles sheepishly, and sits down at the table, opposite of him, with the cup of tea. She quietly puts her hands to it, but not on it, probably assuming that it’s too hot. Which it is. Vincent also wouldn’t want her to burn herself.

Vincent also takes a seat.

He knows that he is the first one that has to speak. He might as well get it over with.

Because as much as he hates himself, he doesn’t want Ada to hate him too.

“You… weren’t.

“Huh?”

“A pain in the neck, I mean. You weren’t. Well, you were in the beginning. I was just trying to use you to get to Oscar’s key. I was trying to seduce you so that you’d tell me where it is, because that’s what I’d always done.”

“So you do remember,” she says, completely unbothered with everything else he just said. “I wasn’t entirely sure. I’ve always had a suspicion, but- I wasn’t entirely certain. And don’t worry about it, that’s all in the past-“

“I hated you,” he blurts out, his hands slowly closing up into fists. “You got on my nerves so much. You were everything I hated in women. All sweet and docile and helpful. And then I thought I finally had you, and that I was right there about to seduce you, and then you instead-“

“Showed you my entire occult collection,” she laughs, the sound reverberating throughout Vincent’s entire body, “I know. I’m sorry. I figured afterwards that it must’ve been really annoying. But once carried away, I just couldn’t…”

“I know,” Vincent says. He doesn’t dare look at her. “But… in hindsight, I don’t find it as annoying anymore. And even if I hated you- I don’t. I didn’t anymore. I told Gilbert to let you know that I’d die because I didn’t want you- I didn’t want you to waste your entire life with me.”

When she raises her voice again, Vincent doesn’t have to look up to see that her expression must be all soft.

“I know,” she whispers, “I guessed as much. I thought that maybe you didn’t- well, don’t, love me back, but… I never once thought that you really and truly hated me at that point, you know? If that were the case, you would’ve told me in person.

So much to ‘Ada doesn’t know anything about him’. She knows him a little too well.

“You don’t have to love me back, by the way,” she says. Her voice is all quiet. “I’m not expecting that of you. I- appreciated that you even allowed me to go out on a date with you. I would never force you to feel anything like that for me. All I want to know is just-“

She interrupts herself But that’s okay. It’s honestly not as if she has to even ask the question. Vincent knows what she wants to ask anyways.

“Yeah. I appreciated it.”

“That’s… good to know. You know, I really just- you’re allowed to exist, Vincent. You’re allowed to be. You have no reason to ever- apologize for that.”

“I… know that now,” he smiles. His fist relaxes. “I know. You were the one to teach me that. I just- anyone would’ve done. Anyone could’ve forgiven me, and it would’ve been enough. All I wanted all this time was just- for someone to forgive me. But it was you. And I’m glad it was you.”

Very cautiously, Ada reaches out across the table, and takes his hand. Her fingers are trembling.

Vincent lets her.

He has enough.

Ada doesn’t mind his existence. She’s okay with him just being. She doesn’t expect anything of him, either. She’s not asking him to get married or start a family or anything. She’s just asking to be around him. She’s just asking him to be okay with himself.

And that’s enough for her.

Because she’s way too good for everyone, but if she’s too good for everyone, then who is Vincent to think that he can’t be with her-

No.

God.

He can’t think like that or else he’ll actually end up trying to get with her when she deserves at least better than him. If no one can live up to her, then at the very least it should be someone who can treat her better than Vincent of all people ever could.

Her fingers on his are warm. He lets her smile at him, still asking to bathe in her light for just a little while.

“I’m genuinely glad that I could help just a little,” Ada says, squeezing his hand just a tiny bit. “I’m sure that there were things that were your fault, Lord Vincent. But opening the gates to the Abyss never was. I hope you know that. You were being used by two adults. They lied to you. It wasn’t your fault. So if you blame yourself- then only do it for the things you were at fault at. Okay?”

Funnily enough, the first to say these things to him wasn’t her – that was Reim. Now, after all these years, Vincent did understand that much. He managed to forgive himself for at least this. Even if it’s just this – it’s better than nothing.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I know. But thank you. I know this much. Reim helped me.”

“Reim? Oh. Yeah. Him remembering makes sense, doesn’t it? I thought so. I never- let it on to anyone, I think. I don’t think Jack knows. He’s too occupied with himself to pay much attention to me, anyways. I wasn’t even mad at him. Well, I mean, I was. Because he used you. But I don’t think I showed it. I know he’s repenting in his own way. I know he’s trying his best.”

Vincent knows as much. His feelings about Jack are still complicated. He thinks that, if anything he did was true, it was at least the fact that he didn’t mind Vincent having a red eye. He made use of it, yes; but he didn’t reject him for it. Vincent just came in useful, and Jack took the opportunity.

He can’t blame him.

Vincent hasn’t done much better in life.

“Yeah,” he says, “it’s alright. You don’t need to be mad on my behalf. I don’t hate him, I don’t think.”

“Yeah.”

Their joint hands remain on the table, but Ada grabs her tea with the other, raising it to her lips and blowing a little before she drinks from it, stealing some glances at him over the rim of the cup. She places it back onto the table almost quietly.

“Say…” she says, and suddenly she’s properly clutching onto his hand, like she’s never going to let go, like he’s all she has left, like she has been waiting for this moment for a hundred years.

“I mean it when I say I don’t want to pressure you. And if you don’t want to be with me, then that’s all you’ll have to say, okay? But I just- I just want to ask and receive an answer, Lord Vincent. I’m- still in love with you. And if you think that’s stupid and immature, then I don’t care. But I’m still in love with you. I want to be with you. In whatever way you allow me to be. It doesn’t have to be romantically. Even if we just have a coffee to catch up sometimes or something – that’d be enough. So just… please let me know how much you want me around. If you want me around at all.”

“…I don’t,” Vincent replies, and then realizes just how bad that sounds.

A the pure mortification in her gaze, he panics.

And, in his panic, Vincent grabs both of Ada’s hands once she’s set down the teacup. He holds onto her hands just as much as he held onto her before he sent her out of Sablier back then.

His words were so clearly lies, and yet she was scared they were truth all along.

“I don’t think it’s stupid or immature,” he clarifies, and at that, she perks up, and ah, Vincent has never been strong. He’s been cunning and arrogant and self-destructive and so full of hate, but he’s never been strong. “I want you around. I’m still in love with you, too. Even if I don’t deserve it. I still love you.”

Chapter Text

Ada’s entire face lights up at his words, and that makes Vincent want to take them back just a little less. The tears on her face slowly stop; at first, there’s a few more that roll out of her eyes, but it seems to only have been the remainders. Then, they stop altogether.

Vincent doesn’t know whether it’s with happiness, or with shock.

Personally, he feels much more shocked about what he has just said than he feels happy.

He hadn’t planned to say this out loud, hadn’t planned to assure Ada that he does, in fact, love her.

The main issue with that isn’t that he was honest with her, no; the main issue with this is that there’s no way he could get rid of her now, even if he wanted to.

“You do?” she asks, blinking at him so helplessly, like a doe in the headlights, and Vincent finally pulls his hands away from hers.

Or tries to, at least. He doesn’t exactly manage, given the way Ada immediately snatches them back, a smile on her lips that’s so large he’s not sure he could reasonably feel regret in any way at all, if he’s honest.

“…Whatever,” he scoffs, but she just laughs at him, and intertwines their fingers, looking at their joint hands for a few seconds before finding the voice to speak back up again.
“You actually do like me back. And you’ve liked me back for quite a long time, then, I suppose? Were you really just keeping away because you were scared I don’t remember, or thinking that you don’t deserve me and stuff?”

She must know that she’s right by the way he shrinks back in his chair a little. She looks so stupidly pretty even in his clothes that very obviously barely fit her.

“…Ada,” he finally manages to find the voice to speak up again. “I don’t know how much I can reasonably give you.”

“That’s fine!” she says, now being the one to retract her hands. “That’s okay. We can take it slow. Very slow. However slow you want, Lord Vincent- and we don’t have to be together if that makes you uncomfortable. It’d be very sad, but I’d- I’d understand, you know?”

Oh, he knows. Because this is Ada, and Ada is literally perfect.

Which is exactly why he shouldn’t be with her, but if everything she wants is to be with him, then who is he to say no to her? How could he?

“…It’s okay,” he mumbles, quickly hiding his hands under the table while he still has the chance. “I… do want to be with you.”

Everything about this feels ridiculously childish. His sweaty hands, his beating heart, his dry throat, his hot cheeks. Everything about this feels like Vincent is going to die and evaporate on the spot.

No one has ever loved him as unconditionally as Ada.

And, if given the chance, he knows he’ll cling to that.

Maybe that makes him even more scared than anything else, really.

“You… do. You do want to be with me,” she repeats, suddenly a little stupefied, as if she wasn’t the one so eagerly grabbing his hands a few seconds prior.

She’s adorable.

All Vincent knows is that she’s adorable.

“Yeah,” he repeats, “I mean it, though. I don’t know what I can and can’t do. I’m not sure I’m the right person for domesticity. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to move in with you, or- yeah, I shouldn’t pass on my genes at any rate.”

That gets a laugh out of her.

“I would love to have children,” she says, “but if it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. It’d be completely up to you. But you’re good with kids.”

“That’s just what working at Build-a-bear does. I did not use to be good with kids.”

“I know,” she laughs again, a bit of a teasing glint in her eyes. “It’s fine. Things change. People can change. Whatever you’ve done wrong in the past, I forgive you for it. This is a new life, Vincent. So let’s live it as exactly that. Whatever happened back in Sablier and all of that – that’s not us anymore.”

“But we remember.”

“Even if we remember. We’re still new people. You don’t even have your red eye anymore.”

Vincent lets out a small sigh.

“I’m glad I don’t. I know people don’t mind anymore… but I’m glad I don’t.”

“Yeah,” Ada whispers. She looks like she wants to take his hand again, reaching hers out across the table. Very gingerly, Vincent brings one of his own out again, and they meet. She just puts hers over his. Not grabbing it, nothing, just resting her hand on his. It feels good. It feels slow enough. “I do miss it. But I understand it caused you a lot of grief. You and others. But not anymore. You don’t cause anyone any grief anymore, Vincent. Everything is fine this time around.”

The words are quiet. Barely a whisper, barely audible against the rainstorm outside, as if not juts Vincent, but the entire world was trying to drown them out, scared that the words might change him in ways he can’t revert.

“You’re not a burden anymore, Vincent.”

And Vincent breaks. Because finally, someone isn’t saying that he never was a burden. Ada isn’t trying to lie to him, not at all. All she wants is to tell him that now, he isn’t a burden anymore.

The implication that he used to be almost, just almost manages to make him believe it. Almost believing it is better than not believing it, at all, he thinks.

It starts with his throat clogging up, feeling like he can’t say even just another word anymore, like it’s too late for that, like he’s going to die if he tries to raise his voice. The feeling is more than just irritating, scratchy and uncomfortable, and he hasn’t felt it ever since he was a child in his past life.

It continues with a shiver going through his body, like it’s preparing for something long forgotten, something akin to fear and exhilaration alike; as if the rain from outside was inside of his body suddenly, trying to wash him all under until there’s nothing left, and, Vincent thinks to himself, that might just be a good thing.

It ends with tears welling up in his eyes and leaving them, and no amount of blinking can possibly get rid of them anymore.

He starts crying before he knows it, and it’s awful.

He cried a few times as a child in this world, sure, because that’s just what children do, even if he’s always remembered. It seems that children in general are just more susceptible to it, even if they’re theoretically an over one-hundred years old adult.

But before that, and ever since then? There weren’t a lot of times past his youth where he allowed himself to cry, or rather, his body forced him to.

Now is such a time.

Just because someone finally admits that he used to be a burden before, and he knows maybe, just maybe it wasn’t his fault that he used to be one – but he was one. So for someone to acknowledge that, and only then say that this isn’t the case anymore?

He might just be able to believe that.

Crying feels awful. He feels all choked up, unable to breathe, his nose quickly filling up; his eyes are burning, and so are his cheeks where the tears are trailing over his skin, before they reach his chin and then drop into his lap.

Ada doesn’t move at first, only holding his hand and staring at him, until a soft smile forms on her lips again.

“And even if you were,” she adds, “I wouldn’t mind. You can be a burden to me, I’ll gladly just be there for you. Okay?”

Strangely enough, Vincent nods. Because if someone offers it, then he’s very much going to cling to that last bit of kindness being extended to him from someone who isn’t his brother.

“Can I… hug you?”

Again, he can’t do much more than hug.

He watches, sniffling and wiping his tears on his sleeve, as Ada gets up, walks around the table, and pulls him up. He follows her motion and lands in her arms a little later.
She smells of rain, wet hair, his clothes, and a perfume very similar to the one she used a hundred years ago. She smells different than she did in Sablier; less sweat and blood, but that’s a good thing. That means she’s safe.

A little scared of hurting her for some reason, Vincent hugs her back, making sure not to apply too much pressure, but he doesn’t need to because Ada does it for him. She wraps her arms around him steadily, pushing him against herself until their bodies are flat against each others’ and he can feel her heartbeat against his chest.

It’s strangely calming, just to know that she’s alive after he watched her from afar, until she died, and only then did he allow himself to visit her (even if it was her grave).

Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Ada speaks up.

“I know you were watching me,” she whispers, one of her hands sliding up into his hair and playing with it a little while he just keeps crying. “Sometimes, I saw you. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were at all. It made me feel safe.”

Idly, Vincent thinks to himself that it should’ve made her feel stalked, actually. Of course that wasn’t his intention, but anyone other than her would’ve certainly found it creepy and uncomfortable.

“It reassured me that you care in some way, you know? And- you know, latest when my child appeared at my doorstep saying that he got hurt, but some man bandaged up his knee? I knew it was you.”

Ah.

That incident.

“I miss my kid,” she sighs, “I hope he’s okay, wherever he is. He’s probably not reincarnated yet. That’s okay. He won’t remember me anymore.”

Vincent hugs her a little more strongly. That’s part of why he’s glad about not really having been loved; there was no one in his life apart from her, Gilbert, and perhaps Jack that he would’ve wanted to see again in this life. And Elliot, of course. Leo shouldn’t have gotten reincarnated, but did, anyways – and wherever Leo goes, Elliot goes. That isn’t just in the nature of Glen and Humpty Dumpty, but also just their own personalities.

The fact that all the Nightray children got born to the same parents again was pure and utter coincidence. The fact they adopted them just as much.

It’s no surprise Ada would miss her son. She probably misses her husband, too, after spending an entire lifetime with him – even if she loves Vincent all the same.

He doesn’t blame her, and he won’t ever do so, either.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, unsure of whether or not he should bring his hands a little further up her body so that he could press her into him with his elbows. He doesn’t do it for now. “I believe you do. I hope you get to see him, even if it’s just once, to make sure he’s happy in this life.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “That’s just how these things work. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you, Vincent.”

She tightens her grasp on him a little, and Vincent takes that as a sign that he can requite the gesture. Like this, the hug feels even more intimate than it already did. It feels much more intimate than all the sex Vincent has had in his two lifetimes with both women and men. It feels much more intimate than all the meaningless kisses he’s shared with all those people who weren’t Ada, even when, later, she was all that was on his mind.

“I’ll… stay,” escapes him, and he’s not sure why he’s said it, but he stands by it.

Vincent will stay.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ada chuckles, her fingers combing through his hair as he’s still crying. “I won’t make you stay. Whatever pace you want to take, that’s the pace we’re taking. If you don’t want to see me for a few days or even weeks once I’ve gone home, I’ll accept that. I just expect you to tell me. And- if you’re just telling me those things to punish yourself, then don’t say them at all. If I ever find out you’re only getting rid of me because you feel like you don’t deserve me, I’ll get really angry.”

“Oh no,” Vincent makes, feeling a grin coming on. It feels so much more honest than all the grins of this kind that he shared with Lottie and other women. “Are you going to put me in one of your torture devices?”

“Sadly, I don’t have any of those anymore,” she says, and laughs into his shoulder. “Ah, once I make some proper money, I can always get new ones.”

Vincent definitely has gotten himself into something here, but it’s hard to mind when she’s all warm and soft in his arms, when she makes him feel just a little warmer, too.

“Spare me for a little while longer,” he sighs. “I’ll try not to do those things. Sometimes I don’t realize it’s what I’m doing, though. I’m sorry for whenever that happens.”

“Hm. Apologize once you’ve actually done it. We can talk it over when it happens. I know where you live now. This time, I’d be the one watching you if you left again. I also know where you work.”

“That you do. You must have a ridiculous amount of Build-a-Bear plushies by now.”

Another laugh directly into his ear.

“No amount of plushies is ever a too big amount. Just don’t cut them up, they’re my children.”

“No worries. I’ve let go of that habit. I wouldn’t have wanted to make Gil cry if I cut up all of his plushies.”

“Good.”

She exhales in what seems to be honest relief, her breath hot on his neck, weirdly grounding.

“Can we just stay like this for a while?”

“That’s fine,” he says, “we can.”

She nods into him, the rain outside of the window still going horribly strong. Vincent isn’t sure when she can even consider going home given the weather, but he doesn’t feel like it matters right now.

Until the rain stops, he’ll just hold her, and then they can see what they’ll make of it in the end.

They have enough time now.

Chapter Text

“Happy Birthday!”

Jack isn’t sure whether he’s happy, but it sure is his birthday. Maybe he’s a little happy, seeing all the people gathered around him. All the people he hurt, even the ones who remember. Both Reim and Vincent did bring him a small gift despite it all. Of course everyone else also brought him gifts, but he’s not sure whether anyone else remembers, apart from those two, him, and Lacie.

Lacie is next to him, only letting go of his hand now, once they’ve emerged from the room where she got assigned to keep him until they finished their preparations for the surprise party.

…She did keep him busy, as a goodbye gift. They’ve decided they won’t see each other anymore after this. He knows that’s the right decision. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt at all.

“Thank you,” he says, specifically directed at Oz, who’s looking at him with the largest grin on his face. His eyes are glinting, and he’s possibly the happiest Jack has ever seen him. All his friends are by his side, his top surgery appointment is set, he’s doing well in all mock exams, and he’s figured out again that he might want to become a photographer after all.

Nothing left of those screams and cries, tears leaving beady black eyes, stuffing tumbling out when Alice ripped him apart just a little too hard once.

“No, no, no need to thank me!” Oz says, punching his chest once. “Just enjoy the evening, okay? Especially since you’re probably going to leave this year, so I thought it’d be great if everyone cold gather just once more and all… and well, everyone’s here! Anyways, let me bring your presents- uncle, where’d you put it?”

Oscar is already rummaging around for something in the background, and eventually grabs a small, cube-shaped box wrapped up in golden wrapping paper.

“Ada, take it to them,” he instructs, “I’m going to go grab the alcohol.”

Of course.

Oscar and his alcohol. He wasn’t only obsessed with that in his past life; this life, too.

What a shame Jack was responsible for his death once. Of course, Zai landed the killing blow, but… Oscar could’ve run away if not for him. He would’ve died anyways. Zai landing the killing blow doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have died otherwise.

So it’s his fault.

Ada nods, and grabs the small package, walking up to Oz and him.

“A bit more confidence, Ada!” Oz laughs, rubbing her shoulder once, “you chose it, so you should gift it to him! We have a few more gifts though, don’t worry, this isn’t the only thing, but Ada said it might be the most important!”

When Jack looks down at her, she looks clearly nervous, eyes jumping back at Vincent once, even – she’s been over the moon recently because she finally got together with him. Jack is happy for the two of them. Yet, seeing them together does also hurt a little. Vincent at least isn’t at fault for anything. He only feels that way. Jack actually is.
And he deserves to suffer the consequences of it. He doesn’t find himself minding it too much anymore. At least being able to repent feels just a bit freeing by itself.

“I- I found it at the flea market the other day, when I was walking there with Vincent… and I thought you might want it.”

She presses the small box into his hand, and jack feels the weight of it; not heavy, but not light either, given the size. Slowly, he undoes the ribbon and paper, and then opens the small box.

Inside lies a pocket watch.

His pocket watch.

For a bit, Jack can’t do anything but stare down at the pocket watch, his eyes probably going all big. He feels Lacie’s hand against his arm, touching it a little as if to make sure he knows she’s there; stupid. Jack would know if she wasn’t there, first and foremost.

He reaches out, touches the cold material, feeling it under his fingertips. It’s the same shapes, the very same pattern, as if no one had ever touched it, which obviously can’t be the case if it was casually sold somewhere.

When he meets Ada’s eyes, she’s still smiling, and its reflected in her irises just as much. He blinks.

All this time, he thought that there was no way anyone else could remember and treat him normally. For all those years, too. And yet…

“Thank you,” he chokes out; he’s not sure whether it’s his voice or not, but someone is talking, and it’s his mouth that’s opening, so that’s good enough. “Seriously. Thank you.”

She just smiles at him, all bright and happy, as if actually glad that she’s made him happy. He doesn’t understand how she could possibly remember and yet treat him like this.

“You’re welcome. I thought you’d want to have it. I couldn’t walk past it.”

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah.”

“Alright,” Oz says, and he claps his hands once. “We can do the rest of the presents later! Jack should probably open them at his own pace.”

It’s said with a very small glance up at Jack, as if to find out whether he’s been made uncomfortable by the gift or something, worry that this will be too much on him. That’s no it. He takes the pocket watch out of he box, clasps it in his hand, feeling it tremble. He can’t open it. He can’t yet bear to hear its melody again, not now, not with so many people around.

“Exactly!” Oscar suddenly shouts, some bottles of wine in his hand, “for now, we should all drink! …Except for Gilbert. You’re not allowed.”

“Huh?” comes the high squeak from Gilbert, who looks at him in something like betrayal.

To his own surprise, that makes Jack laugh a little. He quickly hides his smile behind his hand, but Lacie squeezing his arm a little signalizes him that she’s long noticed.

“Yeah…” Oz says, looking over at his friend, “it’s for the best if we don’t let you near alcohol. You know that, Gil. Anyways, uncle, pour me some, pour me some! Elliot, want a glass too?”

Elliot stares at him a little surprised too, but when Leo bumps his shoulder into his arm he quickly gives in and agrees, the three walking over to Oscar to be the first to get a drink.
Like it’s not Jack’s birthday.

He finds that he doesn’t mind – if the three of them can have fun, then that’s everything he really needs. If anything that he’s done can be undone, even if just little by little, that’s truly enough for him at this point.

It won’t lift the guilt off him.

But it still lights something up inside of him, so that has to be good enough.

Ada reaches out one of her hands, clasping his for a little, holding both his hand and his pocket watch, smiling up at him once more. Then, she walks back over to Vincent, and together they join her little brother and his friends.

The realization that there are people who love him doesn’t come easy to Jack. He’s not sure whether he can fully believe it, either; but right now, it feels like he almost, just almost could.

“No, you’re not drinking, either,” suddenly comes Break’s voice from somewhere close to Jack. When he looks around, Break, Sharon, and Reim have approached, as if to walk past them to go grab themselves some alcohol, too.

“Why?” Sharon complains, “I’m completely normal when I drink-“

“No, you’re not,” Reim agrees. He scowls a little, as if the fact that he just agreed with Break has just occurred to him. “We all know what happened last week.”

A small, devilish grin forms on Sharon’s face.

“Did you dislike it?”

…Jack doesn’t want to know more, actually. Lacie also throws him a glance, cocking her eyebrow, as if scared of what exactly Reim perhaps didn’t like. Or did like, given the redness of his cheeks all of a sudden. Ah, he really doesn’t want to know. He’s rarely ever been so sure of something.

“Excuse them,” Reim scoffs when Break and Sharon eventually walk past, joining the others. “They’re… whatever. I’m glad… Ada found the pocket watch.”

“Yeah,” Jack hears himself say. “I’m glad, too.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well.” Reim’s voice is quiet, and through his glasses, his eyes are twinkling just a little, “but you and Vincent are always welcome to talk to me. Even when I find both of you absolutely insufferable.”

Idly, Jack thinks that this might not be such a bad thing, given that he’s handled Rufus Barma for an entire lifetime. He’s used to insufferable people. Jack is another level of insufferable, though – he’s well aware of that.

“Yeah,” is everything he manages to say, though, again. He’s just at a loss of words. “I appreciate it. I’m not sure whether I’m going to take you up on the offer, though. But thank you.”

“No issue at all. Alright. I’m going to join whatever the hell I’ve decided to do with this life.”

The last bit is said with a glance at his partners. Then, Reim sighs, and walks over to them, as if not entirely sure that he’s on board with his own decision of being in a relationship with both Sharon and Reim.

Jack can see why.

It’s fine. Enough is said between the two of them.

Maybe there are some people who are willing to forgive him, even if they remember. Because not everyone is like him. Because sometimes, people forgive.

“Alright,” Lacie laughs.

She takes the pocket watch out of his hands, and instead puts it into his pocket for him. Where it belongs.

“You want to go for a drink first?”

Jack doesn’t manage to speak up, though, because his face and eyes suddenly feel all hot when the heavy weight of the watch sinks into his pants, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, and a hand grabs his cheek, a thumb stroking away a first tear.

Her gesture is so stupidly soft, coming from her. Lacie is a lot of things, but Jack was never sure whether ‘soft’ was one of them. If anything, she’s hard around the edges; unafraid to voice her thoughts, unafraid to be who she is, everything that Jack isn’t. Maybe that’s what he needs. Maybe it’s softness he needs.

He’s not sure.

“…No,” he says, “I…”

“You want to go for some fresh air first?” she asks, and Jack nods before he even realizes that’s what he needs. “Alright. Let’s get out of here. Come on.”

She grabs his hand, and holding it feels so much easier when they both know that they’ll be parting ways after tonight. Like this, it feels much more natural – Lacie leaving him behind once more feels much more natural.

As if leading him through the streets of Sablier once more, Lacie leads him outside. He knows some of the others are looking at them, but he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind. Once she’s dragged him out of the door and has closed it behind him, she sits down on the porch, pulling him down with her by his hand.

It’s dark outside. The stars are up high in the sky, and it all just feels like back then. Except Jack feels just a little bit more like himself these days. Not that he knows what he’s really like. But a bit more like himself. Maybe he’s nothing and everything at the same time.

Maybe it doesn’t matter at all.

“Here. Sit down. Stop crying. Okay, well, on second thought, don’t stop crying. Cry as much as you want.”

Lacie bumps her shoulder into his a little, then raises her head a little to look at the stars together with him.

“It feels like back then, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It does.”

“The sky still looks like how the abyss once looked. I… didn’t see much what happened with it when you became the vessel for the will.”

“I don’t remember either,” Jack says, because everything from there on out is a blurry swirl of golden colours, twinkling lights and darkness, “but I hope it looked like this. I hope it still looks like this. I understand now what you found so beautiful about it.”

For a few seconds, he closes his eyes and takes in the cold air of January; the only day his mother would really take for him, and not the image of his father that she saw him as. The only day she would see him for who he really was.

Maybe it’s also today that Jack sees himself just a little, with the pocket watch back in his pockets.

“Why do you think we’re all here? There must’ve been an impetus, something to kick it all off. You and me, and Leo and Oswald, none of us are meant to be here right now,” Lacie says, placing their entwined hands on her thigh.

At least she’s properly dressed today and not just in a thin, white dress. That way, she doesn#t even need that blanket Jack had on him back then.

“I’m not sure,” he says, “I can’t remember anything. Something must’ve wanted us all to be together again, maybe. It’s alright. Everyone else- everyone else deserves me to not destroy their lives this time. They deserve it.”

“They do,” Lacie whispers. Even through her black jeans, her thigh is warm, full of life, her smile melancholic and making him want to kiss her and push her away all at the same time, because Jack always feels a lot of conflicting emotions at the very same time. “Maybe that’s the reason. Maybe you wanting to give them a second chance is why we’re all here. Who knows? It’s not like there was ever an explanation as to why the Glens shouldn’t be able to reincarnate. We all just assumed that’s how it went. Well- the others did. Maybe you figured it out. Maybe you sent them back.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’d do something that nice.”

“I think you would. In fact, I know you would. You took me in despite being annoyed with me because you didn’t want me to freeze to death. So I’m sure you would. I’m sure that’s why we’re all here again.”

Jack sincerely isn’t convinced.

“I wouldn’t bring myself back to life. You know how little I’ve always cared about my own life.”

“That’s not true either,” she says.

Jack looks at the stars.

She’s right about that. He wants to live. Even if he’s twisted beyond repair, even if he’s like water, he wants to live. That was the only reason he did all these things, after all. Just to be able to feel an emotion, truly live, keep on going for just another day or two.

“Maybe,” he concedes eventually. They won’t ever actually know, probably. It’s not a bad thing. Jack isn’t at all sure what the hell he’d do if he were to find out that he himself is responsible for living again, and for messing up about some people remembering. None of them should. Everyone should just get to live their lives without the burden of the past.
Only he should have to shoulder it, all alone, just like he did living as the Will for a while.

“Jack?” suddenly comes a quiet voice, and when he looks out into the street, down from the stars, there’s two girls standing there.

“You wanna talk to him? Alright, I’ll go inside! Oz promised me meat, and we’re already late anyways! Don’t take too long!”

Alice kisses her sister’s cheek, and storms right past them, nearly stepping on Lacie and only laughing out a short ‘I’m sorry’, fully unaware of who Lacie is to her. Maybe that, too, is for the better. It’s not like the two Alices ever got to truly interact with Lacie. She wasn’t a mother to them, and they weren’t really children to her. Jack can’t imagine how she might feel, and he can’t see any indications on her face for what she’s feeling, either.

All she does is smile a little at Alice running past her, and then at Alyss when she walks up to them, much shyer and more reserved than her twin sister.

“Hi,” she says, “sorry we’re late. Happy Birthday. Sorry that Alice didn’t even say that much, she’s…”

“It’s fine,” Jack says. He doesn’t care. I’s his birthday, whatever – just like any other day of the year. As a kid, he used to find it special.

He doesn’t know who he was as a kid.

“Alright,” she says, that smile still on her face. For a bit, she looks at Lacie, then back at Jack.

“Uhm… Jack. I just- wanted to thank you again. For helping me let go of you all the way back then. I don’t know why I’m here now, but- I enjoy it. I enjoy living. So thank you very much for making me let go so I can actually enjoy this life.”

That was the last thing he’d ever expected to happen, and maybe this is the only birthday present he ever really needed. Just one single person thanking him for something he’s done. If he helped even just one single person, then maybe for now, that’s enough.

Maybe that’s enough for this life.

Still, he’s too stunned to answer, so Lacie answers for him.

“He appreciates it.”

He does.

“What’re you doing now, Alyss? If you… ever want to catch up, you know, just… let me know. I don’t think I want to get involved with Levi, though.”

That prompts a small chuckle.

“Ah, no… he doesn’t remember either way, so it’s… fine. Although I guess we do look alike, so he’d ask questions… I’d like that though. Catching up, I mean. We can talk about it later.”

“Yeah,” Lacie answers, smiling in much the same way, “please do have fun at the party. Ah, and maybe don’t let your sister get to the alcohol. I’m not sure that’d be very good.”

‘Your sister’, not ‘my other daughter’.

“Ah- oh no, there’s alcohol. I’ve got to be going, this is not going well otherwise, because Oz will do nothing to stop her…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack hears himself say, “you can leave. Lacie is right. I do appreciate what you’ve said.”

Alyss gives a short nod, then quickly hurries inside to chase after her sister before she can go on a rampage by getting drunk.

Once she’s gone, the door clicking shut, Lacie folds in on herself, letting go off his hand and instead hugging her own knees.

“God, this is so awkward. What was I thinking, agreeing to this stupid experiment with Levi, anyways? I mean- they’re both very nice girls, but what drove me to accept this? Gods, I’m so sorry, Jack. Just because I cared so little and wanted to know why, I messed up so many things. I messed you up. I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s crying. Just this once, it comes almost naturally to him when he puts a hand to her back. He doesn’t move it. Just keeps it there, inbetween her shoulder blades. Even if she’s properly dressed for winter, she’s not properly dressed for being outside in winter, her coat still inside.

They should go back inside in a bit.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, then corrects himself. “Yeah. Some of it is your fault, and some of it is mine, and some of it is other people’s fault. We can all just try to make up for it.”

She nods into her knees, and they stay like this for a while, until she starts trembling just a little bit with what’s probably the cold, but maybe not just that.

When she resurfaces, she wipes her face, and leans over to kiss him on the lips just once, smiling and acting like nothing’s happened.

“It’s fine. I’ll get around. We both will. Right?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, trying to sound hopeful even when he doesn’t feel like it. However, maybe just somewhere deep inside of him, there’s a spark as golden as the abyss, as bright as the stars above him, and maybe it’s that spark that makes him take her hand of his own accord.

“I’ll try my best,” he says in all earnest, “even if we don’t make it in the next life, or the one after that, I at least want to be with you in one life. I mean it. I don’t know a lot about what I want, but I’ll take this time to figure it out.”

“Yeah. I like that idea,” Lacie agrees, intertwining their fingers again. “A lot. We can still text. Maybe we can meet up every once in a while. It’s up to you. I just don’t think we should be together like this. I’m sure we’ll find each other again in our next lives, too.”

Her hand is warm, despite the cold winter air surrounding them, making the tip of Jack’s nose hurt, a reminder that he exists, and that there’s other people with him.

Behind him, he can hear the bustling of the party slowly getting on inside – they should really go back inside soon.

He closes his eyes, letting the stars change colour in his vision, their bright white light blurring into green and blue even when he his eyes fall shut.

Maybe it’s not going to be today or this life or the next, but he’ll be with Lacie one day. Maybe they aren’t meant for each other this time around, just as much as they weren’t meant to be last time, either.

But it’s fine. The pain inside of him just reminds him that-

He takes a deep breath, letting the freezing air fill his lungs, then exhaling it once.

“I am here,” he whispers into the night, against the stars that he doesn’t see, against Lacie’s lips when they’re back on his, and even if he doesn’t know who he is, at least he knows where he is.