1. Shackles and chains get in the way

Oz doesn't know when it happened; when his anticipation and cynicism turned to resigned acceptance and stunned disbelief. He knows when that turned to love, to true acceptance, to wanting to help and giving into the need to be wanted. That happened after Gilbert pushed him out of the way of a bus, and got hit instead. The man that Oz hardly knew had protested his loyalty, his faith, and his devotion in the most overt of statements, the most kind of gestures, the most observant eyes that followed him constantly.

When the blond man had found him in a museum in Istanbul, and spirited him away, Oz had been skeptical. It was not right for strange men to simply coerce children into coming with him. Oz doesn't know how he did it; now that he accepts how long Vincent had likely lived, how long he'd searched and how long he'd toiled, Oz realizes that he never had a chance to decline. Vincent would have hounded him, day in and day out. He would have followed like a shadow, coerced, convinced, set down lies or truths and one way or another, Oz would have been convinced. He doesn't think Vincent would have kidnapped him, but the reality is that he could have, and knowing Vincent, and all he was capable of, he might have.

His parents would have thought it was being kidnapped, in the sense he wasn't old enough to consent. He was lucky he was at school, he was lucky they didn't worry much. He was lucky they didn't ask questions, or perhaps Vincent was lucky. Oz isn't quite sure how much or how little luck he has. Needless to say, he didn't tell his parents, not really. How would it have sounded, telling them he was off to chase a man who'd lived 200 sum years, and had spent more than 100 of them waiting for him to be born, to be found. It would have sounded mad, because it was mad. It was crazy and deluded and wrong in so many ways. As he thinks back on it, he again is not sure how Vincent convinced him. He just waved his magic hand, his red eye glistening, and it was so. The Immortals - Oz calls Gilbert and Vincent that in his head, and any other unfortunate soul who has lived that long - get what they want. They are old and wise and they know things they shouldn't and they understand how people and things and realities work. They look at you like serial killers, if he is being honest, like things that are breakable and small and so easily acquired, but that is morbid, and he is not morbid. Such a thought is completely unwarranted, because neither Vincent nor Gilbert ever laid a finger on him, ever touched him inappropriately, ever had anything but sincere interest in Oz Vessalius. The only problem, is that he is not Oz Vessalius. His name is Oz, but he is not that Oz. He just looks like that Oz, might act like that Oz, could be that Oz if he tried and asked questions and wanted to play pretend for Gilbert's sake. He refuses to be that Oz.

So Vincent spirited him away from his studies, his responsibilities. He wrote to his parents telling them something absurd, so that they wouldn't phone the police when the school told them he'd never come back. He thinks they probably still did, but living with Immortals is like living off the map. They have ways of disappearing, names that go unnoticed, lists and lists of places where no one will find ever you. Oz doesn't want that. He can't be Oz Vessalius, refuses to even try, so he doesn't allow it. If he said the word, Gilbert would spirit him away and he'd never want for anything, any dumb request he had Gilbert would fulfill, never work a day in his life, because the Immortals have cash squirreled away in bank account under strange names the world over, jars of money hiding in woods and in earthen tombs and graveyard where no one else dares to tread.

These things, these powers of the mind, and wiles of the endowed, they are enough to either make a 14 year old concerned, or to enchant him. Oz fell into the concerned category. He is not some reincarnated person that saved the world. He's just Oz, and that was enough for him. It still would be enough, but somehow, Vincent plied him, convinced him, despite his better judgment. Smoke and mirrors, he thinks, cause the Immortals are all about that.

And thus his life as Oz was never the same again. He acquired, or was acquired, by one cunning Immortal, delivering him to another, sad, Immortal.

2. and I'm lost in the garderner's gate

Acquiring Alice was harder, and simpler. Finding her was the hard part, because she was not really on Vincent's expected map. Oz treated it like a vacation, a tour around the world, because he was young and doing something entirely foolish. He had the sense to know he should at least enjoy it. As he expected, Vincent plied him with good food, and any trinket or bobble he showed any interest in. Oz is sure Vincent was afraid he's run, which really shouldn't have mattered. Vincent should have known better, Oz could have easily been caught, and had no money or place to go. He isn't stupid, he wouldn't have run.

Alice would have.

They find Alice off the beaten path. Her family is improvised, and is excited that some rich European is interested in adopting, or founding, or kidnapping her. They think she's getting a better life, which is true, she is, but the thinking is so different that Oz can't understand it. But Alice has lived a very different life than he has. She smiles and is sweet and kind and aggressive. She is a lot of things he isn't. Despite their differences, despite the language barrier, they fall into fast friendship. Alice is sort of like breathing, you can hold your breath, but you still need her. Oz doesn't really know how he lasted so long without her. It makes him think that perhaps Vincent isn't crazy, isn't insane. He said Alice was the third in their trio, and Oz only admits it is true when Alice is in front of him bubbly and wonderful and radiant. Vincent is right, and it is one of the first times that Oz admits as much. But if Vincent is right about Alice, he might be right about other things too.

He is sure Alice would have run. She hates Vincent, in that irrational sense that nothing he does will ever please her. She would have run if Oz wasn't there, and that is the genius of the Immortals. Vincent knew who he had to find first, who he had to convince. He never would have gotten Alice on his own. It's that attention to detail, that 'cover all the angles' mentality that makes Oz believe that Vincent is as old as he claims, has seen all he claims. It also makes Oz think that Vincent is an exceptional liar, but he lets that thought go.

When they have Alice, it is time to move on, time to return to the other Immortal. Vincent's dear older brother, Gilbert. Vincent is quite obviously obsessed. The way he speaks, the way his eyes soften, the way his fingers play with his hair as if it was longer, all of it tells Oz that Gilbert is Vincent's world. He figures that is normal, when you only have each other to rely on, when everyone else dies or leaves you or won't believe or keeps dying so you have to go track them down again. He only realizes, much, much later, that Vincent did this whole thing alone - searched for them, found them, brought them from place to place to place. Gilbert didn't accompany him, even with the rapture in Vincent's voice when he talked of Gilbert.

Gilbert is not what he expects, but like Alice, they fit. They fit like a set of gloves on three different hands. Despite this, Oz keeps his skepticism, keeps it close and refuses to let it go. He refuses to be Oz Vessalius, because it is a lie. He feels like he lies too much already - to his parents the life he had the people who loved him the friends he's abandoned to do this - so he won't lie about this. Gilbert is the same, but also different from Alice. Alice is harmless and bright and perfect. Gilbert is large, dark and brooding. He can only compare them in the absolute compulsion he has to be near them. They feel like missing parts of his life, and that is both frightening and invigorating. He doesn't know what to make of it, so skepticism and cynicism is what he keeps, but he keeps that locked inside. He doesn't let it show. Even if he can't be the image Gilbert sees, even if he can't trust that this was a good decision, even if he can't be what is expected, Oz does not want to disappoint, so he keeps those things secret, he keeps them hidden.

He thinks about running away with Alice, but he knows it won't happen. It's impossible. There are no chains, no gates, no fences or dogs to keep them there. Nothing so overt. Just a poor lonely man with one arm, and sad eyes that look at them as if they are the sun. And he does look. Gilbert looks and looks and looks and looks. It feels like he is afraid they will disappear. He looks at them like a man dying of thirst, afraid they'll evaporate like water in the noon day sun. Even logic won't let him go, and he's always loved logic because it kept him safe and detached, and away from hurt. He can't do it here. Gilbert doesn't work by logic. He's old and wise and still in love with two people who are long dead. Logic has nothing to do with their situation. Oz can't leave, just like he can't tell Gilbert the two people he's waited so patiently for are dead and gone never to come back. He can't so he won't. There might as well have been locks and chains and dungeons, because he knows neither of them can ever leave.

3. Where everything grows but no one should go where I've gone.

Dreams are a tricky thing. He's always had them, but his are different, and always have been. He dreams of Oz Vessalius, of the stuffed rabbit turned chain turned boy. He doesn't have all the pieces - doesn't want all the pieces - but he does dream from time to time. Upon waking, he doesn't remember most of the parts. When he was young, these were strange dreams that he sometimes told his parents. They looked at him in concern; they thought something might be wrong. They took him to people who asked him lots and lots of questions, and he dutifully answered them because he was young and young kids often do as their told.

Nothing ever came of it.

His parents wanted the dreams to go away, or to find an answer, but as with many things in this world, there was no such thing. There was no answer, and the dreams did not go away. They happened infrequently, and still do, so it wasn't a big problem. It was just a part of Oz's life that he knows, and ignores. That is fine, there was no deep dark hurt behind it. That was, until Gilbert. Now these are memories, things that Oz Vessalius has left behind, imprints in the sand of a visitor that came and went before him.

More than ever, he doesn't want them. He is terrified when he remembers. He imagines waking one day, and simply being Oz Vessalius, the person Gilbert needs and wants and longs for. He is not that person, and never wants to be that person, because it means his death. It means no more normal Oz with a family at home and friends at school. He will change, and be different, and he won't accept that. The only change he wants is to get taller, he's good otherwise.

He won't fill the void in Gilbert that way, there are too many cracks and contusions for him to fix. But, he will try in other ways. He will work for Gilbert's rare smiles, for the blush and the candor to his step.

He will give a lot, but he won't give up who he is. He doesn't know if Gilbert expects him to or not.

4. I won't come back

It is when he writes his first letter to his parents, upon meeting Gilbert, that he realizes this is a life time decision.

He scrawls out a chapter in the book of adventures he is writing for his parents, the false stories he is crafting for their comfort. He bundles it up tightly. Gilbert tells him to always lick the envelope instead of dabbing it with water. It is a strange request that he doesn't understand at that point, but that he complies. He realizes later, that it is proof. It is proof to his parents that he sent the letter, that he is alive, that he is still breathing.

He takes the letter to mail, and Gilbert stops him there too. He takes it, and has it delivered by someone he knows.

Oz realizes a week later, that there was never a return address on the letter, with some form of horror.

5. How can you dream in the doorway without ever going in?

Oz never sees Vincent again, but he thinks of him often. He thinks of him almost every time Gilbert looks at him. The way he speaks, the way his eyes soften, the way his fingers play with his hair as if it was longer, all of it tells Oz that he is Gilbert's world. It is obsession, and it is so inherently Vincent. They don't look that similar, but both of these Immortals are unhealthy things with little to no concern for themselves, Oz is sure of it. He never saw Gilbert in Vincent, because he didn't know Gilbert then, but he sees Vincent in Gilbert for a very long time, till the memory of his very first Immortal fades from his vision.

Gilbert looks at him like art that he can't touch, that can't be felt without damaging; like a flower that is going to wilt in winter, but that must be tenderly cared for in spring to blossom. He thinks, for the first 5 months, that this is probably Gilbert simply adjusting to Oz being a physical presence in his life (again?) instead of some Vessalius ghost. He thinks it will pass, that Gilbert will take steps to make them closer. He thinks Gilbert will start treating him like a person, instead of a precious thing that must be protected. Oz thinks that he only needs time.

Oz is wrong.

6. How can you dream in the doorway...

Gilbert cooks for them almost every day. He seems to know exactly what they want to eat every day. Only, he doesn't. Alice doesn't have the heart to tell him she doesn't love meat THAT much. Oz does like Gilbert's cakes and pastries, but he much prefers the soups he makes.

Gilbert is always cooking things they like, or, more accurately, he is always cooking things that their former selves liked. Neither Oz or Alice know how to breach the subject, so they don't. They are not those people, but they are to Gilbert. It's delicate, and so is Gilbert, in his own, strange, undying way.

7. without making excuses (and drawing conclusions) you're at it again.

He can talk honestly with Alice. She is not the same Alice he sees in his dreams, they are two separate individual. He doesn't have visions of her flinging a pair of scissors into her own throat, because HIS Alice would never do that. This Alice is not that person. She is more, and she is better and she is his. But then there are times when his Alice, and the other Alice are more similar. He forgets those, blocks them away like old baggage going into the attic.

They talk about a lot of things. Gilbert never leaves the house, not really. He goes shopping at night sometimes, but generally, he doesn't go places. During the day, it is only he and Alice that go exploring, go to the zoo, the aquarium, the park, the gardens, the hikes, the pools. Once or twice, Gilbert goes with them, but it is so infrequent, that he doesn't count it. Alice calls Gilbert a Vampire, similar to how Oz calls the brothers Immortals. But he and Alice go many places, and see many things, and do many things. These are all fun, but Oz is happier to talk with Alice than anything else. These outings encourage that.

Most of all, they talk about people they aren't, and Gilbert. Alice doesn't know either, but she is sure that it is all wrong. She is surer than he is. Unlike him, she thinks she can save Gilbert, she thinks she can help. Oz is still unsure that something as broken and fragile as Gilbert can be salvaged in the way Alice expects. Oz is of the opinion that he must simply accept that this is who Gilbert is, perhaps who he has always been (the dreams scream NO NO NO NOT THIS WAY, but he ignores them because they are dreams and he is not Oz Vessalius).

Alice says he's a coward, and Oz readily admits that it is probably true. He certainly doesn't have the guts and brawn that Alice does. She wants to help, but doesn't know how. If she came up with a plan, he would help her, even if he was convinced it would fail. Because it's Alice, and she should get everything her heart desires.

8. I am not your concern the world will still turn

Gilbert goes with them places, when one of them asks him to. Alice and he use this to their advantage at some point, but quickly realize it is a bad, bad idea.

Gilbert is not good out and about in the world. He doesn't know how things work, hasn't kept up with the times, doesn't have modern clothes, looks around in abject horror as if he is in wonderland (and not the good sort of wonderland that people like to say, not the misuse of the word, not the inaccuracy in interpretation to describe wonder and excitement, because Oz knows that wonderland is no paradise, no haven, and no play date).

He keeps them as close as he can, often with one dejected hand wrapped around someone's wrist, as he looks at all the various things that could hurt them, harm them, maim them, take them. It is stressful, and it hurts Gilbert immensely.

Oz realizes that the world itself is of no consequence to Gilbert (the world he doesn't remember Oz Vessalius saving). Gilbert has two small suns, that come up, and go away, and he has great trust that they will always return, as the sun does. Going out and looking at the world, the horrors and the accidents and the things that go wrong, shakes that hope to its core. Gilbert doesn't want to tie them down more, doesn't want to be that creep that keeps his children locked inside because he's afraid of the horror that is the world. Taking him outside makes that seem like a much saner option.

They stop asking.

9. When I'm not around

When they get back, they always ask what Gilbert did while they were gone. Sometimes, the answer is sleep, or read, or write. Most often, the answer is 'Nothing'.

He looks at the book cases that line the house, the hundreds upon hundreds of book and memories and things that Gilbert reads or has read, or has written.

Oz wonders how much 'Nothing' Gilbert did when they weren't there.

10. Rely on me and you'll fall...backs up to the wall

Alice gets sick not to long after arriving. She is not used to the diseases, the sicknesses that this place has. It makes Oz realize, that where as this setting is different to him, it is not entirely alien, like it is to Alice. But, Alice is sick, so he files that thought away for later.

Gilbert is beside himself with worry. He has the best doctor he can find brought to live in the house with them for the duration of Alice's sickness. It is quite serious, but Oz suspects that Gilbert would have done the same thing if it had not been. He wonders if people died from simple colds when Gilbert was a child, if he lost someone to this sort of thing. The dreams are thankfully silent on the matter. It is only his to contemplate.

Those two weeks, Gilbert sleeps very little. He waits at Alice's bed side, cooks all the things he (doesn't) knows she likes to eat, tends to her every waking moment, and paces outside when the doctor shoos him out, and he cannot do those things.

It makes it very obvious, that Gilbert is scared, absolutely terrified, that they will leave him again. The fact is that they cannot help it. They are not Immortals, their time clock still ticks, while Gilbert's is smashed and immobile.

11. Someone let me out

Some days Oz thinks about home. About his mom's cooking, and the sports he played with his father, the video games he used to buy for his younger sister, and fooling around with his classmates and friends. Those days, his heart aches.

His heart aches for the life that he has given up by following a red eyed Immortal down the rabbit hole. His heart aches for Alice whose family wanted her to have a better life, and she does, but this isn't good enough. His heart aches for Vincent, who was not a 'Vampire', who went out and found them and worked and slaved for Gilbert to be happy once again, because only two fleshy humans could do it and he couldn't. His heart aches for Gilbert, whose world ended over a hundred years ago, who was left behind, who had no choice but to wait, who never one dreamed of moving on from the encompassing sorrow of his loss. His heart aches for Gilbert, who is in love with ghosts.

Oz wants to go home, but he reminds himself that he is the only home Gilbert will ever have, until he dies, and Gilbert must yet again wait 100 years for the next replacement, the newest model.

12. It's all sinkin' in, I'd probably just swim if I could but I can't so

Alice calls him a coward, and she is right, but Oz can't see them simply fixing Gilbert. He had 100 years to fix himself, to move on, to find meaning in his life. He obviously didn't. Oz doesn't think that a painting, a flower, a thing that never truly reaches Gilbert enough to tell him that he is tired of eating pastries, will ever be able to change that.

Oz is a coward, because he doesn't try.

13. I'm just hangin' on and on...

Gilbert tells Oz one day, that he can go home if he'd like. His next breath is to say that he will go with him, that Gilbert would follow him anywhere. That he is surprised that Oz never asked himself, never wanted to go back.

This leads into some strange talk, where Gilbert sort of asks him how his home life was. He seems to have assumed that Oz was in some way abused, that by being here, he is escaping some horrible fate. Oz corrects him. No, his parents love him very much. No, he has a younger sister and she is the light of his world. No, he had tons of friends in school that adored him. No, his parents never struck him. No, his father didn't hate him. No, he was never bullied in school.

He knows that these are all the wrong things to say. He should have lied through his teeth, and told Gilbert all of the horrible things he wanted to hear. It would let him sleep better at night thinking that he saved Oz from a horrible situation, but Oz can't do that. He is not Oz Vessalius, and he refuses to be. He will not be a broken thing for Gilbert to fix.

Instead of being upset, Gilbert breaks down and cries in joy. He is so happy that Oz had the life he deserved. He is so happy that people loved him as they should have, he is so happy that he cries and cries and Oz has to kneel down and comfort him.

Gilbert says he should go back, that he belongs there in peace and happiness. He even buys a plane ticket for the very next week, but Oz doesn't take it. He's made his decision already; he won't go back on it. It isn't fair, to the people he left, he knows that. He will never live that down, and he will always regret it, but he has made his decision.

He writes, and hopes it is enough.