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It turned out that, after that first half-hug in one of the training rooms, Gil didn’t actually do hugs and cuddles and physical affection all that much anymore. In fact, he almost held himself back from interacting with Oz and Alice at all, which—
It was deserved. No matter how you looked at it, it was deserved. Oz had, after all, nearly killed Gil the last time they’d seen each other, and he’d spent pretty much the entire last decade killing people for other people’s entertainment, or for Jack’s pleasure. This was completely different from Gilbert killing people for money, because Oz was sure that if Gilbert took jobs to kill people, he made sure the people were evil first, and besides, he got money out of it, so it wasn’t like he was doing it for nothing, like Oz.
It was deserved, Oz had done nothing at all to earn Gilbert’s affection, or his trust, and he was damned lucky that Gil wanted, for whatever reason, to stay with him and keep him safe.
Though Oz seriously doubted ‘safety’ was something that something like him could ever really experience.
They’d all been bundled into Sharon Rainsworth’s grandmother’s car at this point, and Alice had positioned herself between Oz and nearly everyone else, though he’d convinced her to let Gilbert sit on his other side. Gilbert was carefully making sure they made no physical contact, though his eyes had not yet left Oz, who was sat motionless between Alice and Gilbert and was currently hoping to God that Alice wouldn’t decide to attack the entire car. They were with Pandora. They were Jack’s people. Attacking them would not end well for anyone, especially since Gil was so close at hand and could so easily be hurt once more by sheer proximity to Oz, and there was no way any of them were truly on their side, or actually wanted to protect them, other than Gilbert, who had probably been sent more as hostage than protector.
Oz caught Alice’s eye. She was in a clearly great mood—she hadn’t realized, Oz noted, that Pandora was Jack’s organization, and clearly thought that as long as they kept their mouths shut about him they were golden. This wasn’t a perception Oz wanted to challenge, particularly not here—this was probably another of Jack’s little mind games, another way to exercise control over them both, or over just Oz—it wasn’t ever clear—and they definitely weren’t supposed to think their rescuers had anything to do with Jack. After all, the very fact that Gil was here meant it was probably a long con—after all, what better way to lull Oz into a false sense of security than to present him with the two people he loved most in all the world, safe and happy and promising that he’d be the same? If it weren’t wholly unrealistic, Oz certainly would have been taken in, but he wasn’t an idiot. No way in hell was this as good as it seemed.
And Oz had a lot of experience with hell.
Nothing nasty happened on the car ride, of course, though Oz did have a fun verbal sparring match with Gil’s boss, Xerxes Break, and Alice ate five hamburgers in a row before falling asleep on top of Oz and Gilbert. Gil looked surprised to find the sleeping girl stretched across his lap, though Oz, used to Alice and gratified to see her so relaxed, pulled her a little closer and started working on getting the tangles out of her hair.
Oz could feel Gilbert’s gaze resting on him as he worked, but he resisted the temptation to look over and meet it. This was not going to last, so there was no point in getting used to Gilbert’s presence, especially since Gil was so old now. Even if Jack let Oz and Alice stay out in the real world for a while, there was no way that Gil’d actually want to stay with Oz, no matter what he said. He was old, and tall, and handsome, with a steady job and a great personality: there was no way he wasn’t either married or about to be, and even if that wasn’t the case, he definitely had a life and a family of his own and Oz definitely wasn’t a part of it, and almost certainly wasn’t wanted. There was no point in getting used to this. There was no use to refamiliarizing himself with Gil’s features. Oz’s fingers ran smoothly through Alice’s hair: it was neat, if not clean, and hopefully they’d be able to get it clean before they were sent back, or brought to whatever new facilities Jack had sent the Pandora members to bring them to. Oz carefully brushed it out of her face before beginning to braid it back. He had to keep his focus on Alice. Alice, not Gil, because it was Alice who would stay with him and Alice who was the only person he could rely on and Alice who his life revolved around when he wasn’t doing what Jack required of him—Alice, Alice, Alice. She was just as important as Gil, and had been since they’d met, but right now he needed to pretend she was more important, because otherwise it would only hurt more when he lost Gil again.
Plus, Alice definitely got jealous, and Oz didn’t want her jealous of Gilbert.
As Oz finished up Alice’s braid, he heard Gilbert move, just slightly, behind him, and then, as he was tying the braid off with a strand of hair, a large hand rested on Oz’s head and ruffled his hair, just slightly.
Oz immediately went still.
Jack.
He was…here. In the car.
Jack was here, and Oz was doing what he wanted—Jack wanted Oz ignoring Gil for Alice but Jack hated Oz’s attachment to Alice, hated that she was always Oz’s priority over him, and surely would hate Oz’s attachment to Gilbert too—Gilbert was grown up, Gilbert had his own family and life that Oz wasn’t a part of so of course Jack didn’t want Oz caring about Gil anymore, it was probably harder for him to threaten Gilbert than Alice.
Oz wasn’t allowed to speak with Gil, then. Wasn’t allowed to acknowledge him, or maybe even look at him. He trembled against the back of his seat, hands frozen around the end of Alice’s braid. This—by the damned Abyss—this sucked. It was hell. Jack was here and he was using Gil’s presence to blatantly taunt Oz, and—and—how had he even gotten behind Oz, anyway, they were in the backseat and there definitely hadn’t been anyone lying there when they got in—
But Jack had been there, his hand had been on Oz’s head like he always did when he was happy with him, and Oz had definitely done some horrific things in the past to get hair ruffles, but—but he was with Gil and Alice. They were supposed to be pretending to be safe! What was the point in lulling Oz into a false sense of security if Jack exposed himself immediately ?
The hand rubbed Oz’s head once more, and then vanished as quickly as it appeared, a black-leather clad arm returning to Gilbert’s lap.
…Gilbert’s…lap.
Gilbert’s arm.
Gilbert’s…hand.
Oz risked a glance over at Gilbert, whose face was red, though his gaze was still on Oz.
“You take good care of her,” he said.
“She’s Alice,” Oz replied, his heart slamming against his chest. There was no retaliation for looking, or for speaking, so Oz carefully and quickly glanced behind him.
Nobody was there.
There wasn’t space for anyone to be there.
The car seated five, all in all, unless you decided to sit on the floor or in someone else’s lap, and Break was driving and Sharon was in shotgun and Gil and Oz were sitting in the backseat and Alice was sleeping on their laps.
It hadn’t been Jack.
Jack wasn’t here.
He was still lulling them into a false sense of security. The rug wasn’t being yanked away yet. Everything was alright.
Oz’s heart, still hammering in his chest, slowed down just slightly, and he couldn’t stop himself from slumping just slightly against Gil like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
“Oz, are you alright?” Gilbert said. “Your pulse, it’s too fast.”
Oz stiffened, and sat back up again immediately. “Sorry, I…I’m not used to being out here instead of in there,” he said. “I’m a little on edge, I think. I didn’t mean to…”
This time, he saw the hand coming and was prepared when it settled in his hair and ruffled it slightly, though his heart rate jumped again and his chest went icy. Jack’s not here, he reminded himself, making sure to smile at Gil. Jack’s not here, Jack’s not here, Jack’s not here.
It only helped a little. What helped more was when Gilbert’s hand left Oz’s head, and Oz took a couple deep breaths before finishing tying Alice’s braid off—his hands were shaking, and it took longer than he expected, and he could only hope that Gil didn’t notice because he was older and had his own life and no reason to care about Oz anymore, because if he did still care he’d be in danger from Jack, but if he didn’t care, then—then—
Gilbert was half of Oz’s will to live. Even if he didn’t care anymore, as long as he was safe and happy and doing well Oz would be fine, and if Gil wanted nothing more to do with him and there was no way Oz could find out about his wellbeing, he still had Alice.
This time, there was a tiny frown on Gil’s face when he pulled his hand away, and Oz’s nerves lit themselves up with a terror of losing Gil again already as his old friend pulled his phone out and typed something out on it. Oz, for lack of anything better to do, took out Alice’s braid and began doing it up again.
Up in the front seat, Sharon Rainsworth leaned over and whispered something into Xerxes Break’s ear; Break giggled half-hysterically and continued driving. Gil’s brow furrowed as he looked at him, but he didn’t say anything, and Oz didn’t know enough about Gilbert’s relationship with his boss to comment.
Soon enough, they pulled over to a gas station and, instead of getting gas, parked the car entirely right in front of it.
“I am in desperate need of a piss,” Break declared to the car at large, and Gilbert and Sharon both made disgusted noises at him. “Come on, we’re all going inside.”
Oz shook Alice awake, and she grumbled blearily at him before attempting to roll onto the floor of the car and continue sleeping there, but Gilbert caught her and scooped her up before she could, carrying her out of the car like a child and setting her on the ground.
“You need to use the restroom,” Gilbert told her. “We still have a few more hours to go until we’re back at the Rainsworths’.”
“Not Pandora Headquarters?” Oz asked.
“Where’s the bucket?” asked Alice, more interested in the immediate concerns than whatever strange plot this was.
“Bucket?” Gilbert echoed. “And…no, not HQ, we…uh. Um.”
Oh. So Jack was at the Rainsworth house. So Jack had sent these three people specifically to collect Oz and Alice. The other shoe was dropping sooner than Oz had thought it would.
“This mission wasn’t strictly authorized by Pandora,” Break said smoothly from somewhere behind them.
“I’m not surprised,” Oz replied, as calmly as he was able. “I don’t think Pandora would want to be outwardly associated with trafficking. Who’s paying you for this, then?”
“Nobody, since Gilbert shot out the fucking electric grid, ” Sharon replied grimly. “Pandora didn’t strictly authorize this mission, so we’re operating off of Grandmother’s and Uncle Rufus’s money, which will all be spent on the cover-up, since technically we were already banned from, quote, meddling.”
“That was an accident, ” said Gilbert, annoyed.
“Which I suspect was the same thing your mother said when she had you!” Break replied cheerily.
“Where the fuck is the bucket?” Alice asked again. “I mean, if we’re using the bathroom here. ”
“What bucket?” Gilbert asked again.
“I think we’re going to be using a real live actual toilet, Alice,” Oz said, trying not to seem excited.
A hand descended like a gavel onto Oz’s head and ruffled, hard. “Very true! Great job~, Oz!” a voice sang out, one that was probably familiar but got washed away in the tide of JackJackJackJackJackJackJack that immediately overwhelmed Oz and washed him away in a tidal wave of terror at that sensation and those words. Dimly, Oz was aware of himself shoving the hand away and immediately moving to try and shield Gilbert from Jack, wherever he was—Jack had nearly killed Gil once to get at Oz and Oz refused to let it happen again—and a cry of pain as if from far away, and Gil’s voice spluttering, “What the fuck, Break?!”—but Gil was behind Oz, he was safe—he was moving—where was Alice—Alice was hanging onto Gil’s boss’s arm by her teeth, blood and spittle dribbling down her cheek, as the blonde girl readied something rectangular to hit her with—
Oz darted forward, grabbed Alice, yanked her back behind him, sandwiched between him and Gil, and attempted to get their backs to a wall, because that was always safest when dealing with Jack, because that way he couldn’t get to them without getting through you and usually he was satisfied after getting through you, and if he wasn’t, at least they would get off easier.
He didn’t see Jack anywhere, though that didn’t matter all that much: Jack appeared from places you couldn’t see all the time.
Oz pressed further against Gil and Alice, but they wouldn’t be herded, and then Gil got in front of Oz, where it was more dangerous, and crouched down and took Oz by the arms and said, “It’s alright, Oz, you aren’t in any danger. You’re safe now, you’re safe now, you’re safe now.”
“He’s—he’s here !” Oz argued, something seizing his lungs and holding them solid, keeping him from breathing right. “He’s here, you aren’t safe, you aren’t safe, it’s not safe—”
“It was just that dumb clown being a bitch, Oz,” said Alice, leaning her chin on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, keeping him from floating away in a spiral of terror. “He touched you like that fucker did, that’s all. I’ve already gotten some revenge for you. It’s okay.”
“He’s here ,” Oz repeated, because he had to be, he had to—
Alice bit him on the cheek, and then shook her head around like a dog. Gilbert yelped.
“Oz!” Alice said when she released him. “He! Is not! Here! That clown’s just an asshole, okay? It’s alright! Look, even your dumb Gilbert’s here.” Oz looked; Gilbert was indeed still there, gripping Oz’s arms and looking as though he was about to cry. “If he was here, Gilbert would not be here, or he’d be dead on the ground.”
Oz took a deep breath. “...Right,” he murmured. “Right, sorry.”
Alice bit him again, and Gilbert made another shocked and horrified sound.
“Gil…” Oz said. “I…”
“He wants to hug you,” Alice said, finally wiping Gilbert’s boss’s blood away from her mouth. “Cause you’re his most important person, or whatever.”
“Alice,” Oz hissed.
Alice’s grip tightened on Oz. “Just as important as me, you said, and you also said you were going to be more honest about that shit.”
“I was also drugged half out of my mind and bleeding all over the floor,” Oz muttered, hopefully quiet enough that Gil didn’t hear, though the horror on his face and his tightening grip on Oz’s arms made it clear that he had, in fact, heard it.
Alice squeezed Oz tighter for just a second. “Who the fuck cares? You still said it.”
Oz shrugged; Gilbert’s hands loosened, then, all of a sudden, and then let go of Oz entirely. Oz mourned the loss of contact for all of two seconds before Gilbert scooped him up into a crushing hug. His hands did not touch Oz’s head, instead wrapping themselves all the way around his shoulders and Alice’s arms and holding Oz tight and holding him close.
“You’re safe,” Gilbert told him softly. “You’re safe. You’re safe. Nobody is ever going to touch you again. You’re safe.”
Oz didn’t believe it, of course. Jack was probably still plotting something, and the other shoe would drop soon. He still curled into Gilbert and clutched him tightly, as though burying his head in the crook of his now-all grown up best friend’s shoulder would make the pain and the terror go away.
It didn’t, of course—nothing ever did, even when Oz tried to attack a handler and they drugged him to hell and back in order to beat the living shit out of him safely—but it was still better, tucked into Gilbert’s arms, warm and safe and loved.
Not safe, Oz reminded himself. Nowhere was safe, not really. Jack could come back at any time, from any angle, ruining this and everything else. But if he was smart, he’d wait longer—at the very least a few days—to lull Oz and Alice into a false sense of security, so here, in the parking lot of a gas station, the sweat-and-smoke scent of Gilbert’s coat not quite enough to chase away the smell of gasoline—here, wrapped up in Gilbert’s and Alice’s arms, was probably about as safe as it would get.
Oz did not cry, or even sniffle. He knew that, had someone been looking, his face would be as slack and blank as someone half-asleep. It wasn’t safe, after all, to show your emotions anywhere Jack might be watching, and Jack could be watching anywhere.
But—he was warm. He was loved, somehow, for some reason.Gil and Alice were both here, and both hugging him.
Nothing would be okay. Nothing would ever be okay, but—
Despite everything, in this one moment, this one, singular, warm moment, Oz Vessalius felt, against all of his better judgement, safe.