It was starting to rain. The sun had set, giving way to the shadows of the night as the carriage bumped along the worn down road. Alice had long since fallen asleep on the seat opposite Gilbert, taking the whole thing up as she happily napped the night away (which had caused Oz to join Gilbert on his side since the girl seemed to be rather fond of kicking his legs as she dreamed). Taking another drag of his cigarette, Gil glanced to his side as he felt a subtle weight on his shoulder. It seemed as if sleep had finally taken over, causing Oz to slump against his friend as his mind drifted off into blissful unconsciousness. Gil stared at the boy for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall with steady breaths while his whole body seemed to relax. He looked as peaceful as ever when he slept. Then again, everyone did, even Gilbert when he could bring himself to get a good night's rest. Since the day he had been separated from Oz all those years ago, the nights he was actually able to fall into a peaceful slumber were few and far in between. Even now, when he had the boy back by his side, Gil was often too concerned to let his mind rest when his body did. For most sleep meant that they could shut themselves away from the real world and any problems associated with reality. More often than not, Gilbert's brow furrowed, etching lines of worry on his face as he slept and making him look far beyond his years. Then again, considering everything he and his master had been through in the past few months, could anyone really blame him for fretting?

Life had certainly taken a toll on Gilbert. He had lived his whole life worrying (especially when Oz was involved) and that was a hard habit to break. Sometimes Gilbert wished that this was all some ridiculous dream that he would soon wake from, only to find himself having dozed off as he waited for his young master to finish his lessons for the day. Would that not be nice? Unfortunately, Gil knew that it was just wishful thinking; fate was not kind to him and had other ideas. Things had been so much simpler when Gil was younger. Granted he still tended to worry about his master, but not to the extent he currently did. Now and then were two totally different things. Years ago the most he had to concern himself with was making sure that Oz was happy enough and that he at least tried to maintain some sense of civility. Now he had to be concerned with seeing to it that Oz did not wind up dead. Oh how times had changed.

Despite everything that had happened, there was still one shred of normalcy left in Gilbert's life. Even as they made their way down the dark, dreary road that was about as familiar as the other side of the world, Gilbert felt at ease here for some reason. The moment he looked out the window, watching the rain pelt the smudged glass, he knew for a fact it was not his surroundings that gave him a rather nostalgic feeling. Casting a glance at the top of Oz's head, Gil's memory was triggered as a scenario similar to this came to mind. Years ago when he had been nothing more than a boy at the Vessalius estate, he would often find himself in this position; sitting on a sofa in front of the fire next to his young master after a long day of being dragged around all over creation by Oz. That was something that frequently happened in the Vessalius estate and, quite frankly, Gilbert missed it. He missed playing with Oz and Ada for a good portion of the day and having someone like Oscar around who seemed like he genuinely loved them all, including the young servant. He missed reading stories with the Vessalius children on rainy afternoons. He missed waking up leaning on his master's shoulder along and seeing Ada resting on the opposite one; the three of them having been covered up with a blanket by Oscar who always dozed off in a chair opposite them.

That warm, carefree feeling he associated with being a child was something that Gilbert would always cherish along with the memories associated with it. It was something that, sadly, would never return to him no matter how much he wished for it to happen. He had truly felt like he belonged when he had been taken in by the Vessalius family. There was no doubt in his mind that he had grown to love them all, even if he never said anything about it. Hell, he still held onto those feelings, especially when Oz was involved. He had become very attached to the boy almost immediately after their first meeting, developing a relationship with him that held a special place in his heart. In all practicality, Gilbert lived for Oz. As a child, as an adult, it never changed. Oz was always the one constant in his life that he never wanted to change. Oz was the reason he was who he was today. Everything he had endured had been for Oz. Every ridiculous trial he had put himself through during those ten years when they were separated from one another. It was strange how one person could have such a profound influence on his life.

When he was with Oz, Gilbert felt like he had a definitive place. Then again when the boy was not present, Gil was still inclined to feel that way. Having Oz meant that he belonged. What would he have done without him? After Oz had been lost to the Abyss and Gilbert was taken in by the Nightrays, becoming a part of their family along with his brother, it never felt the same as it had living in the Vessalius estate. Of course he had never expected to, for the only reason he had bothered with taking on the Nightray name was for the sake of his master. He spent nearly half his lifetime with them, but his loyalty had always remained with Oz. The nights he spent lying awake next to Vincent in the weeks following Oz's disappearance, there had been numerous times when he had convinced himself that Oz was never coming back, but quickly dismissed it. As he grew up, he had expected to get over his master, but doing that would just be asking the impossible. If he accepted the fact that Oz was gone for good, then what would he do with himself? There would not be any direction in his life, should he choose to believe that. Deep down Gil knew that no matter how adamantly he might tell himself that still hoping for the boy's return was a fruitless effort. He might have been (and still was in some respects) a Nightray in every way, in Gil's heart he was still and always would be a Vessalius.

Gilbert sighed, carefully lifting his arm up so he would not disturb Oz, the man snuffed out what was left of his cigarette against the already grimy glass. It was far too late for him to be thinking about these things. He did not know how long they had been travelling nor when they would approximately arrive at their destination, but he did know that spending the remainder of the journey consumed by his own thoughts would make the trip drag on. It was time for him to try to put his mind to rest and call it a night just like his two companions had done quite some time ago.

Shutting his eyes, Gilbert leaned his head back against the carriage seat, trying to make himself as comfortable as he could in such a cramped space. Though he and Oz were not currently basking in the warmth from the hearth as Gil so fondly recalled, and were instead traveling in a rather uncomfortable carriage, Gilbert was just as content as he was years past. Perhaps it was due to the sound of the rain (that was supposed to be soothing, right?) pelting against the landau's sides and knowing that, for right now, everyone was relatively safe. No. That was not the reason; it was barely a contributing factor. In actuality, Gil was tired, hungry, far from comfortable, and the rain's relentless beating was giving him a headache. The warm feeling that was slowly taking over his body was not something that he could accurately describe. The only way he could put what he was experiencing into words was the phrase 'feeling at home'.

It now made sense; the reason for his feeling was the person who was next to him, using him as an oversized pillow. As long as he had Oz, he was happy. They could be anywhere at any given time under a variety of circumstances, and Gilbert would always have a feeling similar to the one he had now. Oz always had and always would be the one Gilbert held in the highest regard. He would do anything for his master, even if it meant giving up his own life in the process as long as he could keep the boy out of harm's way. He shared a bond with Oz unlike any other. It was something driven by devotion and held together by something that could only be described as love in every sense of the word. Anywhere Oz went, Gil would go too. It would be like that until Gilbert's last breath; he knew that for a fact. He was sure that even in death (should his come first) he would still be anchored to him by the loyalty he had pledged in life.

Out of the hundreds of people he had come across in his few decades on earth, Oz was one of the few people in Gilbert's life who truly mattered to him. After making this realization, he now knew how much truth the statement 'home is where the heart is' held. As long as he was with his master, his best friend, then Gil did not need anything or anyone else; he had everything right next to him. There was no place he would rather be. Whether he and Oz were living a mundane, day-to-day life or running for their lives, Gilbert did not care. Oz had become everything to him: a friend, a brother, his family, practically his entire reason for living (almost to the point of blatant obsession). No matter what trials and tribulations he had to face in the future, he was going to do so standing by Oz's side. He had somewhere he belonged; somewhere he was both wanted and needed. Could he really ask for more?

With his newest realization fresh in his head, Gilbert was finally able to put his racing mind at ease. All thoughts of how bad the ride was and how annoying the rain was becoming were no longer bothering him. The road had smoothed out and the rain was now nothing more than a slow drizzle. Gilbert let out a long breath as his entire body relaxed, sending him off into the same world of dreams the boy next to him was currently visiting. For this one moment, Gil could fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that he had found his place.