What the Dormouse Said | By : RoseThorne Category: +M to R > Pandora Hearts Views: 1016 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts and do not make any money writing this. |
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: Pandora Hearts is owned by Jun Mochizuki, Square Enix, et al.
As soon as Eques released him, when it was clear how badly Liam was injured, the doctors at Pandora headquarters swarmed him. Faster than he had thought possible, they stopped the bleeding, stitched the worst of his injuries, and bandaged the rest.
The cut on his cheek, fortunately, was one that didn’t require stitches. It would scar slightly, but not nearly as badly as the rest. He didn’t want a reminder of what had happened every time he looked in a mirror.
Liam was also pleased to discover that the antiseptic the doctors at Pandora used contained a painkiller, something he had never been aware of before, having never been injured in the line of duty. He hadn’t realized exactly how much pain he was in until it had been dulled.
Despite the severity of his wounds—especially his shoulder, which had been sliced through to the bone—he would recover with time and have nearly full mobility. For now, that arm was bound immobile at his side.
Although the shoulder injury had been very close to several major arteries, none of them had been hit. Despite the depth of the slash on his hip, it too had missed an artery. He hadn’t bled out. The slash on his hip was at a downward angle rather than straight across, and had thus missed a rather important part of his anatomy. He wasn’t a eunuch. Overall, the damage was not extensive enough to leave him permanently crippled.
Liam had been lucky.
Too lucky, as though Lily truly had been “playing” with him, as though she hadn’t realized how fragile normal humans were.
That was something he couldn’t handle thinking about, and he was relieved when Barma arrived and headed off that line of thinking by demanding the information Liam had gathered.
Liam was glad to give it; the quicker he passed on the information, the quicker it was clear that Pandora knew what Lily had told him, the less danger he would be in from the Baskerville Break suspected had infiltrated the organization. Liam wouldn’t be worth killing anymore, and he rather preferred it that way.
By the time he had completed his report to Barma, he was so drained that despite himself he couldn’t keep his eyes open after he’d been bundled off to his quarters and put to bed.
He didn’t want to sleep. He was, after all, rather worried about Break. With those injuries, his worsening sight, and whatever emotional issues he was having that had led him to publicly admit he cared… there was a chance he could be killed. Especially if what his master had told him was happening at Yura’s party was true: the Headhunter’s return, the fire, the beheadings… and the cult of Humpty Dumpty.
Liam had missed all of it, which would have been a relief if he hadn’t nearly been killed anyway.
He drifted in that place between asleep and awake, too exhausted to keep himself from drifting off but too worried about Break to let himself stay asleep. He was so weak that for the first time in ages he couldn’t control his chain, but waking to the Hare’s gentle presence by his side, to hear and feel the reassuring rumble of its purr, made him feel safe.
Then he woke to its absence.
Worse, Liam could sense that someone else was in his quarters. And if the March Hare had gone, it was not Break or even Barma; nor was it likely Gilbert, Oz, Oscar, Sharon… or anyone else he trusted or who should be there.
He was trembling and trying not to panic even before he opened his eyes to find mismatched eyes, red and gold, staring down at him. Someone he could recognize even without his glasses—which were broken beyond repair, anyway.
Vincent.
Vincent, who had poisoned Sharon. The very person Break had warned him to watch out for, to avoid it possible, not to be alone with, though he hadn’t told Liam why beyond what had happened to Sharon.
Liam jerked involuntarily and then on top of the fear he had to grapple with his vision going narrow as the pain nearly overwhelmed his senses. He was able to fight it off quickly enough to hear Vincent speak.
“You startle so easily. Be more careful, March Hare.”
That Vincent was referring to him in the same way he tended to refer to Break was concerning. Always before, he had referred to Liam by name. By chain… Something had shifted, and Liam had a feeling that whatever it was… it wasn’t good.
He forced himself to calm down as much as possible, trying to make his fear seem like pain—he didn’t want to tip him off, and it was plausible, after all.
“I’m sorry. You surprised me, Vincent-sama.” He was careful to refer to him politely, as fitting nobility. “Did you need to speak with me?”
“I heard of the attack. I was hoping to hear what information you gathered.” Vincent smiled suddenly, a smile that had an edge to it, and leaned in until he was far too close for comfort. “I was surprised to learn that the March Hare does have a use after all!”
The reference to his chain again, to its power. The implication that he had heard of False Death. The malicious smile, and the knowledge that on his person Vincent likely had the sharp scissors he was known for using on stuffed animals—stuffed rabbits. Liam couldn’t quite stop himself from letting out a shaky breath that sounded too much to his ears like a whimper.
“Oh dear. Is there something wrong? You’re breathing like… a frightened rabbit.”
Liam had to force himself to speak through a constricted throat. “I am rather useless at handling pain,” he whispered. “I gave my report to Barma-sama. I don’t think I’m up to talking about it again right now.”
“I suppose you could say that I’d like to hear it straight from the Hare’s mouth.”
The joke wasn’t funny, and was less so when Vincent reached forward and placed a hand none-too-gently on Liam’s injured shoulder. He managed not to cry out, but only just.
“You’re not nearly as useless as everyone thought. All your diligence for Pandora paid off in spades. Priceless information about the Baskervilles, I’ve heard.”
Liam tried to grab Vincent’s arm when he leaned part of his body weight against his shoulder, but the Nightray’s other hand pinned it to the mattress.
“There are interesting rumors flying around about your relationship to the Mad Hatter. Some even think you might be involved with each other.”
Liam froze, panicked; no one was supposed to know that. They had been careful—so careful!—to avoid the possibility of someone using him against Break.
“Apparently, he cares what happens to you, would die to avenge you. It’s almost romantic.”
The hand dug harder into his shoulder, forcing a strangled scream from him. He could feel the stitches tearing, and the pain made bile rise in his throat. He closed his eyes, making a concentrated effort not to vomit.
“You’re definitely more useful than you pretend to be,” Vincent whispered in his ear. “Would it be worthwhile to find out what the Hatter sees in you, March Hare?”
The implication left Liam in a state of terror. He had been prepared for the threat of death or torture or even poison. But he’d never imagined anyone making such a threat. Why hadn’t he asked Barma for guards, revealed he was afraid? He didn’t know where anyone was, where Break was. And he was trapped here, powerless, pinned under Vincent, who was already halfway on the bed.
Then, abruptly, the weight against his shoulder was gone, along with the hand pinning his other arm.
“Well, really I’m only interested in the information you gathered.”
The voice was further from him than he expected, and Liam realized that Vincent had gotten off of him. Whether it meant the threat wouldn’t be carried out, or if it was meant to lull him into a false sense of security, he didn’t know.
What he did know was that he couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t get his voice to work, and that he could feel that the wound in his shoulder was bleeding again. Badly.
“I would prefer not to resort to… drastic measures.”
Liam forced his eyes open to see that Vincent was holding a tiny green bottle of what could only be poison over him. And he had an inkling that whether he told him what he wanted or not, Vincent intended to use it, if only to hurt Break. Liam wouldn’t be able to fake his way out of it, either.
Bizarrely, the realization that he couldn’t change what was going to happen gave Liam the strength to be defiant, and he set his jaw, refusing to speak.
Vincent frowned at him, looking much like a petulant child, and started to tip the bottle above Liam’s shoulder, slowly, as though expecting that the act might change his mind.
Just as a drop was about to fall, the door crashed open. Vincent’s hand jerked as he moved to hide the bottle, and the drop fell instead on Liam’s pillow.
Liam rolled away from it and wound up falling off the bed entirely, jarring his wounds so badly he nearly blacked out. But he was successful in not allowing the liquid to touch his skin.
“Vince?”
The sound of Gilbert’s voice startled him, and Liam looked up to find him silhouetted in the door with Duke Barma. And Break… Break had his sword to Vincent’s throat.
Vincent didn’t seem to notice, instead looking past him at Gilbert. “Ah. Nii-san. I wasn’t expecting you.”
Break’s voice was level, dangerous, even though his words were polite. “Why are you here, Vincent-sama?”
Vincent raised his arms, his face composed in a benign smile. “Oh, only visiting. I was hoping he would tell me what he had discovered.”
The sword nicked Vincent’s chin, Break clearly losing control over his anger. Liam couldn’t move, in too much pain, and Gil seemed frozen.
It was Barma who stepped forward to diffuse the situation. “Gilbert-san, if you would get a doctor? My servant appears to be bleeding again.”
Ever the dutiful servant, Gil obeyed immediately, disappearing from the doorway. Liam could hear his hurried steps down the hallway.
That seemed to bring Break back from the brink, and he lowered the sword with a too-wide smile. “Well, one can’t be too careful! It’s possible that you are the Baskerville hiding in Pandora’s ranks, after all!”
Break said it casually, but the words cut through Liam like a knife. Could it be…? For a moment, he was afraid his face might betray his thoughts.
Vincent, thankfully, didn’t take his eyes off Break. “A Baskerville hiding in Pandora’s ranks? How could that be?”
It was Barma who answered. “The information Liam gathered indicates that the Baskervilles are not blood relatives, but messengers chosen by the Abyss. In fact, it appears that nearly anyone, even members of the Four Houses, could be a Baskerville.”
“How intriguing! That certainly changes quite a bit. I certainly could be suspect, as could the Mad Hatter.” He made a show of yawning widely. “Or even yourself, Duke Barma.”
Barma’s smile was unpleasant. “Unlikely but possible, I suppose.” He held out his hand. “The bottle.”
Vincent feigned innocence before giving in to Barma’s penetrating glare and handing it to him.
“The same one you used to poison young Sharon, I presume?”
The silence that met that pronouncement was stifling. Liam hadn’t known that Barma had acquired that information—he certainly hadn’t told him. But from the way Break’s lips twisted… he assumed that Liam had done so, had betrayed his trust.
And Vincent… It was clear he assumed the same thing, was assuming that whatever Break knew, Liam knew, and whatever Liam knew, Barma knew. That was dangerous.
It was like a battle that had ended in an uneasy draw, but because of information rather than skill or physical power.
The sound of running footsteps in the hallways reached them; Gilbert with at least two doctors, judging from the number of steps overlapping. The reminder that he needed them made Liam’s shoulder ache even more.
Barma turned to Vincent again. “You will not use my servant in your little game with Xerxes Break.”
The threat in his voice, along with the hint that he knew more than anyone—even Liam—was aware of, would hopefully be effective. But one thing was clear: Liam wasn’t going to be unnoticeable ever again to Vincent Nightray.
There was no time for any further discussion, threats, or banter. The doctors rushed in, and set to work fixing Liam’s shoulder—blessedly using the pain-dulling antiseptic again. They tried to move him to the bed, but it hurt him too much and Barma had them leave him sitting against the bed on the floor. Hopefully once the pain subsided a bit Break could help him move.
Even after Gilbert pulled Vincent from the room—muttering about having a discussion—the tension remained, and Liam couldn’t relax. It stayed through the treatment, and after the doctors left.
“You needn’t blame Liam, Xerxes Break. I gathered that information on my own.” Barma smiled at Liam indulgently. “I’ve known for quite some time not to expect him to betray the Rainsworths’ confidence, or yours.”
Liam flinched, slightly, but Barma continued.
“In fact, that is of use to me now. You have made it clear that you will protect him, and that is what I want you to do. It is acceptable for Liam to return with Break, Sharon-sama?”
Break looked flummoxed, and there was a moment of hesitation before Sharon answered through Eques, hiding in Break’s shadow.
“O-of course. We can prepare his room.”
“Perfect.”
With that, Liam’s master swept from the room, closing the door behind him, leaving only the tension between Liam and Break.
Liam, for his part, was ready to pass out more than he was ready for the conversation that was inevitable between them, especially with Sharon listening through Eques. But he knew it needed to happen, so he waited.
Break was still and silent for nearly a minute before he approached Liam carefully, with a bit of a limp, and sat down beside him. Liam leaned against Break, relieved that he was sitting on his less injured side. After a moment, Break carefully put an arm around him, staying on skin and avoiding bandages, gently bringing him closer.
It was just what Liam needed after the events of today, and just what he didn’t need at the same time. He hadn’t realized that he’d been waiting for Break before he could allow it all to be over until that moment.
Liam couldn’t stop the shaking once it started. It was hard to keep from completely falling apart. He’d lost two colleagues, had shot a child, had nearly been mauled to death, had been forced to reveal his chain’s power to avoid dying, and then, when it all should have been over, he had nearly been poisoned in his own bed. Only the memory of Break’s comment at the party, about not knowing what to do when kids started crying… Only that held him together.
He’d already done enough to hurt Break today, and he wasn’t about to add to the list.
Break’s response to his shaking was to pull the blanket off the bed and wrap it around them, his long fingers lingering when they found that Liam’s arm was held immobile against his side. He was careful to drape the fabric in the gentlest way possible.
“Vincent knows,” he said softly, managing to keep a tremor from his voice. “He knows, Xerxes.”
Vincent was going to kill Liam at some point. And if he found a way to do so without endangering himself, there was a strong chance that he would at least attempt to carry out his threat. The very idea brought back some of the terror.
Liam finally understood why Break was always so paranoid. He was going to start sleeping with a gun under his pillow.
He remembered that Break was blind only when he touched his face, right on the bandage, and his fingers flinched away. At some point Liam was going to have to detail his injuries, so Break wouldn’t worry about accidentally hurting him, but with Sharon listening it would have to wait.
Break’s attempt to comfort him, the reminder of his weakness, enabled Liam to push back the terror. He caught Break’s hand in his free one, awkwardly, and brought it to his lips.
“As does Barma, apparently,” Break murmured after a moment.
That had come as a surprise to Liam as well. Duke Barma had never even indicated he might be aware of what was between them. But… thinking back, the question after he’d revealed Break’s past… Maybe he had been hinting.
“And now, Sharon-sama,” Liam sighed. She certainly could see them through Eques, and the way they were touching made it rather obvious.
Sharon, for her part, didn’t bother to reply. Liam regretted saying anything; she couldn’t help overhearing, and she’d likely been in Break’s shadow in case they needed to get him out quickly, in case Vincent had managed to hurt him badly before he got there. He appreciated that more than he could properly express.
“All that sneaking around for nothing,” Liam murmured wryly.
Liam had intended to make Break smile, but it didn’t work. Instead, he had that haunted look again, the one that had frequented his face fifteen years ago. Liam knew, just from that look, that he could never tell Break the extent of the threats Vincent had made, could never reveal what he had been afraid Vincent would do instead of poison him.
They sat together in silence for a while, the air almost buzzing with what was unsaid between them.
“That’s twice, Liam. Twice in one day.”
Break’s voice was nonchalant in a heavy sort of way, and Liam suddenly realized how frightened Break must have been that he wouldn’t reach him in time. Again, since by the time he’d reached him at Yura’s, he’d already been in False Death.
For Break, it had likely felt like another failure to protect someone he cared for, which certainly explained his uncharacteristic confession before Eques had taken Liam to safety.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. There wasn’t anything more he could say, nothing he could do to make it better.
They both knew that he had survived the Baskervilles only because of the Hare. Break had saved him from Vincent—in no small part because he’d had the sense to bring Gilbert and Barma with him instead of turning it into a showdown—but he likely didn’t feel it made up for the first failure. Liam truly doubted he could convince him otherwise.
“You’re banned from fieldwork, I hope you realize. You’re no good at it!” Break finally said with a sigh. There was a hint of normalcy in his voice.
Liam couldn’t help a soft laugh at that, in part because he agreed completely, but laughing hurt him beyond the ability to speak. Once the pain from that subsided he nodded.
Break’s touch, his presence —what Liam had been waiting for—challenged what little resistance he could muster against his body’s urge to shut down for a while and heal.
Break seemed to recognize his exhaustion. “Bring us home, Sharon.”
As Eques surrounded them, Break carefully drew Liam more snugly into his arms, and brushed their lips together. When Liam responded to the kiss, he slowly deepened it, lingering.
It was almost as though Break was trying to reassure himself that Liam was truly alright. And despite his injuries, despite the fear that the Baskervilles might come after him, despite Vincent’s horrifying threats… Liam was.
Break didn’t pull away until Eques had finished bringing them to the Rainsworth mansion, had disappeared from around them, and then it was mostly to shift him so Liam could use his shoulder as a pillow, could tuck his forehead under Break’s chin, so they wouldn’t have to move.
Liam’s last thought, before he fell deeply asleep, was that he’d never seen Sharon’s face get quite so red before.
After Retrace 56 my paranoid brain is still flipping out that Liam is still in danger, especially from Vincent. As Tsutsuji explored in her fic, “Useless,” Vincent would love to find a new way to hurt Break in Liam.
But after Lily gave Liam information about the Baskervilles and potentially revealed that Vincent is one of them (didn’t happen, yes, but does Vincent know that?), I’d say he’s on danger on his own.
So this is evil!fic inspired by that thought.
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