entrancelogs | There is hope. Do I deserve it? Can I earn it?

Who: Vincent and Gilbert Nightray
Where: Their room
When: January 26th, in the night
Rating: PG (for potential violence and language)
Summary: Vincent's reluctantly prepared himself to come out of hiding, and of course, the first thing he has to do is set things right with his brother, whom he has caused a great amount of stress for with this whole mess. So Vincent comes clean at last.
the Story:

He'd had to think long and hard about everything that had happened. Vincent hadn't felt this vulnerable since before Gilbert could remember, so he was sure his actions had come as quite a shock, but he too had been hurting. Nothing seemed more painful to him than having to distance himself from his brother. After all, his brother was the single most important thing to him. Having to consider whether your presence caused that person more harm then good, or whether you were really able to be of use to that person or not is a dark, cold and merciless burden to bear, but Vincent had done it, and he had done it on his own. It was the thought of doing what was best for Gilbert that had kept him going despite his pain.

But then he had been given a reason to hope that even if he was some sick "Bringer of Misfortune", that it could be fixed. Kururu, his "Master" of sorts, said he might be able to help change that into good luck. Ever since he had avoided his brother, choosing to spend most of his time either outside in the convenient location Seeu told him about, or attending to his Master's wishes and overlooking his inventing with curiousity, although the fact that he was indeed merely being a coward did not disappear.

Maybe he would not be welcomed, and if he wasn't, he would not blame his brother, but if there was hope, then he had a reason to try and face his fears. Even if it was painful, he wanted to see Gilbert badly. And yet it was very frightening. For almost half an hour, he stood outside in the hallway considering whether he should knock or give up.

At last he decided to leave the outcome to fate, as he softly knocked on the door, but made no move to permit himself entrance as he had before this whole mess began.

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The room had felt incredibly empty which maybe the reason why he had been staying out of it as much as possible. Oz and him seemed to be okay right now, thankfully but on the negative he had yet to see his brother since their last conversation.

Upon returning to the room Gilbert had decided a shower might relax him. Walking from the bathroom in his pants with a towel draped over his still messy but wet hair. Placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it, then taking a quick puff. Then the knock on the door surprised him enough to almost drop the smoke, but keeping it her went to the door opening it.

"Yes..." Speak of the devil seeing Vincent earned an annoyed look. Moving aside for him to enter he didn't say another word at the time.

The motion was enough. Vincent entered, a lump in his throat. He hadn't expected a warm welcome. Just being allowed in felt like a great deal. It was weird. The room didn't feel like home as it once had. But what hurt the most was his brother's expression. Even if he hadn't expected anything from Gil, it was still the most painful thing.

"...Sorry to intrude." His voice was still incredibly soft as compared to his usual confidence and enthusiasm, however, he forced a small smile on his face despite being rather pained and uncomfortable here yet. He had decided to do this, and so he could not give up. Not as long as Gilbert was willing to listen.

He only took a few steps in before he turned back towards his brother. Less he'd have to walk if he got kicked out, he figured. "I do however, owe you an apology, if you'll hear it." He offered, eyes still too frightened to actually meet his brother's.

As he heard him enter he assumed he would shut the door as he went back to the bathroom to hang the towel that was drying his hair. Despite the distance he heard every word his brother said before reappearing in the doorway leaning on it.

"Yeah? I'm listening..." It wasn't that he was being cold he was just greatly annoyed with his brother.

Vincent did shut the door, feeling that this was difficult enough without the idea of leaving the door open for any old passer-by to hear their conversation if they so desired. That done, he watched his brother, his eyes still closer to the ground than not, but unable to not look at his brother when he was right there. It had been so long.

It wasn't like he hadn't thought about what he wanted to say, because he had. He had planned out every word, about twenty times over. And yet they all escaped him now that he was here. Now that he was here with his brother again, all the emotions simply seemed to rush out all at once.

The desire to run to his brother and throw his arms around Gil was great, however, right now, he figured that would be even more unwanted than usual, and that was something he didn't want ruining his chances of setting things right. If things improved, then maybe... but he didn't want to get his hopes up. "I acted rather childish at a time when you were already greatly upset, and caused you a great deal of unnecessary pain. For that, I apologize." Vincent said at last, his words a bit stiff, and his voice filled with uncertainty.

Gilbert continued to stand there in the doorway, not really saying a word. At this moment he really didn't want to be close to his brother, he was glad he was okay don't get him wrong. Just the fact he tried to kill his master was still very fresh in his mind and that rubbed him the wrong way.

Letting him finish what he was saying, he lit a cigarette and took a small puff. "...so you're sorry." Keeping his voice calm for the moment.

Feeling rather awkward in his vulnerability, the small statement did nothing to help him. He was slowly realizing that there was little else left for him to say. What he had done may be irreversable. Vincent didn't blame his brother at all.

"Yes." He said simply, nodding his head slowly. Turning his back to Gilbert, he had to remind himself not to bolt, like he had been for the past couple of days. "Well... I said what I needed to... I suppose I should go... I'm sorry I bothered you." He bit his lip. What he really wanted was for his brother to stop him - to say anything. Tasting blood on his lips, he frowned, his eyes travelling to the floor, so afraid to hear what Gilbert might say.

So he really did feel bad about it. It was different to see Vincent at a lost for words for once...it was slightly odd, but different. The others body language only help to reassure how bad he felt, though Gil was sure it was more over upsetting him than hurting Oz.

As he turned to leave that was all Gilbert could take. Walking at a brisk speed he was soon holding Vincent once more by his collar as he slammed him against the closed door. "You going to run again?!" His voice was now raised in a angry tone. "You really are a mess at times, Vincent! You said sorry! Oz is okay and..." In a matter of second his punches his brother and let him fall to the floor. "Now we're even! I think that should make up for what you did...so just stop running."

Getting punched was a horrible, odd sensation. It hurt like hell. And he crumpled pathetically at Gilbert's feet. "I don't... I don't want to run, Gilbert." He softly murmured, hands covering his face, cradling his wound for a moment. Wanting to cling to Gilbert, Vincent could barely manage to pull himself off the ground, his fingers digging into the wall to pull himself up. He knew he would have bruises later, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care all that much.

Hair hanging over his face, Vincent still didn't look at Gilbert directly, but his fingers slowly made their way to Gilbert as the younger brother clung to him gently, body shaking softly against the older boy. "I'm just tired..." He whispered. "So tired..." He mumbled, his hold on Gilbert tightening slightly. He wanted to tell him that he was afraid of causing his brother greater misfortune by staying with him, but he couldn't bring himself to say it yet, as weak as he felt now.

There is hope. Do I deserve it? Can I earn it?

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