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Gilbert wobbled a bit as he looked down at Oz curled up asleep on his couch. He sank down to the floor - a bit more heavily than he meant to, but Oz didn't stir - and rested his head on the edge of the cushions.

"From now on, I'll try to take better care of myself, so that I don't always have to rely on you," his master had said. The words had been sobering, but the sight of his master's small back receding from Gilbert's outstretched hand had been like a bucket of cold water to the face.

Protecting the master was supposed to be his job. His job. Not that stupid rabbit's. It wasn't a logical thought, he knew; if Oz hadn't formed that contract - if Gilbert had been too late, and that rabbit hadn't been there - but she was an intruder. She was the chain that would drag his master beyond his reach. That was unforgivable.

But it didn't sting half so much as those words, as the sight of that back falling away from him.

"So you don't have to rely on me? If you don't rely on me, what use am I?"

At the sound of his voice, Oz made a small sound, and Gilbert looked up, startled; but the boy only sighed and curled toward him, flopping one arm over his shoulder.

Gilbert laughed silently at himself as his chest clenched. It was what he had wished for, wasn't it? Watching his master recklessly hold himself up like a sacrifice time and time again, Gilbert only able to run after him, hoping he could catch him before he shattered, hoping there would still be something left to save; he had wished for an end to that, hadn't he?

Gilbert pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't protect a master that wouldn't take care of himself, but neither could he protect a master that didn't need him anymore.

"It's selfish, but this is all I have," Gilbert whispered. "Please don't leave me behind."

The blow to the back of his head came so suddenly and so unexpectedly that he let out a short, thoroughly undignified screech. He clutched at his smarting skull, swiveling around toward Oz. His master's eyes were open, too-bright in the dark.

"Stuuu-pid," said Oz, drawing the word out in a sing-song manner.

"You were awake?!"

"Of course I was awake."

"For how long?!" Gilbert felt his face flushing hotly. "Don't just keep lying there if you've already woken up!"

Oz grinned. "But then I wouldn't get to see Gil make that face, would I?"

"You -!" Gilbert gritted his teeth and sighed in defeat. "Nevermind."

Oz propped his head up with one arm, fixing Gilbert with his gaze. "You said you would absolutely stay by my side, didn't you? You don't mean to break that promise, do you?"

"No, of course not! That's not what I -"

"Well then, that just means you have to keep up, doesn't it?"

Gilbert blinked in surprise. "What?"

"If you're going to absolutely stay with me no matter what, then you'll just have to keep up with me." And then Oz gave him that smile, that tyrannical, golden smile, and Gilbert knew he'd been defeated before he even began.

"That's certainly..." said Gilbert slowly, "easier said than done."

"That's okay!" Oz said brightly. "You can just grab my hand. I'll won't let you fall behind."

Gilbert stared at him in amazement; then he started laughing, and once he started, he couldn't stop.

Oz pouted at him, puffing out his cheeks. "What's so funny? I'm being serious here."

"No," said Gilbert, "it's nothing." He reached up and ruffled Oz's hair. "I just can't compete with you, that's all." Oz tilted his head, his mouth forming a confused little 'o'.

Gilbert leaned over to the coffee table to retrieve his cigarettes; he noticed as he lit one that his fingers trembled, just a little. "All right," he said, blowing smoke through his lips. "Then I'll do my best to keep up."

But as he saw Oz's responding smile, he wondered if 'keeping up' didn't mean he would have to let go of that hand, instead of holding on. If it did - well, he would probably fail.