Chapter Text
Incense had grown to be a comforting scent for the hunter. It was synonymous with relief, a signal that he was somewhere safe from the beasts roaming Yharnam. The locals all had their own lamps that exuded the fragrant smoke, searching for their homes to be spared from the attention of the monsters, but none of them treated Viktor kindly and would often scream curses at him to leave their residency despite him being the one slaying the beasts and keeping them safe.
All but one. Though, that could be because he was a foreigner just like the hunter. Time after time he could trust Gilbert to guide him in the right direction and provide anything he knew about the place that could be useful to him. Despite being stuck in a strange town during the night of the hunt and critically ill, Gilbert showed him kindness like no other and allowed him to have moments of rest against the bars covering his window.
That's why, even when he already knew where he had to go next, Viktor would still take detours to talk to him. When Gilbert ran out of information to give him, Viktor would then ask him about himself and the life he had before to continue the conversation. He didn't have much to provide, his memories being hazy after the blood ministration he received, but he found peace in hearing his friend speak with that curious foreign accent of his.
The night was long. Perhaps he kept coming back because he'd get cold feet about his next destination, searching for any distraction to occupy his mind… or maybe he just missed talking to another sane human being. The doll was nice to him, yes, but something about her never failed to unnerve him. She herself had mentioned that her love was only as a result of her creation, not something born out of her own will, and thus didn't feel genuine to Viktor.
But Gilbert's soft spoken words of caution were genuine. A man who had nothing to gain yet everything to lose, and he risked it all by being friendly with him during such a dangerous night.
Once again, the hunter found himself standing in front of that dimly lit window, panting for air and surrounded by the warm scent of burning incense clinging to his clothes. With a strong hand, he knocked twice on the window. Beyond the bars, obscured by the foggy glass, stood his faceless friend, seen as nothing but a blurry silhouette from the hunter's perspective.
"What's the matter, hunter?" he asked. "You're back, and so soon too… Did something come up?"
"I've found a safe place, Gilbert…" Viktor replied, wrapping his fingers around the protective bars for support of his aching body. "A clinic not too far from here, where you'd be out of harm's way. It even has someone that could help with your condition."
His heart sank upon hearing a sigh turn into a cough in response to his findings. The man had rejected his invitation to move into Odeon Chapel before, but he had chalked it up to it being a place only guarded by a small dweller. When Iosefka, a medical doctor, told him about her attempts to cure the survivors she received at her clinic, he thought that'd be enough to sway his friend.
"This again…" Gilbert murmured. "Hunter, I'm more than grateful about you trying to help me, but… it's too late for me." as if to prove his point, another coughing fit ensued. "I've bought myself time, but not total salvation. Besides, I can barely walk anymore… I would get killed before reaching this clinic you talk about."
"I would accompany you there, I wouldn't let anything hurt you-"
"Stop," the ill man cut him short. "I'm fine with how things are… I've accepted it. The best gift I was given was the chance to die human. So please, don't give me false hopes of achieving anything more than that…"
Viktor closed his eyes, upset. He wasn't used to feeling this impotent. He had a habit of feeling indebted to those that helped him because they were far and between in his life, a rare luxury. Being in a position where he couldn't return the favor was very stressful.
" Fuck, Gilbert…" he said bitterly. "If you'd just let me help you… I know I could come up with something."
For a moment, the other didn't respond. Viktor wished to see what expression plagued his face, but alas, his figure was clouded in mystery, too vague to identify any facial features. At least he knew he was still there, instead of stepping away from the window to leave him alone.
"Hunter…" Gilbert finally spoke up, making him raise his face towards his voice. "You wish to help me? Then, could I ask of you a rather personal favor?"
The hunter nodded affirmatively, curious.
"I'm sorry if this is a strange request, but…" his voice dropped down to a quiet mumble. Viktor could hear him drum his fingertips nervously on the other side of the glass. "May I… hold your hands, for a moment?"
"...My hands?" Viktor questioned. "Why?"
"I can't remember the last time I had physical contact with another person…" he explained. "I've grown quite touch starved, if I'm honest… but it's not something you need to do if you don't want to. I'm sick, after all. I would understand if you didn't desire to touch me."
"No, I'm fine with that, Gilbert." Viktor was quick to correct. Maybe a little too quick for his liking. "It's not something outside of my capabilities, and if it would truly help, I'm happy to oblige."
Why was his heart beating so hard at the prospect of finally being able to see Gilbert? Admittedly, he had always had a curious itch about his appearance, but Viktor hadn't realized until now how much he desired to know about it.
Another coughing fit attacked Gilbert's throat before he could say his thanks. Viktor watched with a vibrant eye how the window pane was slowly elevated, holding in his breath with eager anticipation, until a small opening was left at the bottom. It was barely tall enough for a pair of frail arms to emerge from, staying safely within the metal bars.
Gilbert's hands were pale and covered in bandages that continued up to his arms, which were covered by the sleeves of what seemed to be a dark green cardigan. Beyond the opening of the window, the hunter could only see a small part of his torso. It felt unreal to see him as flesh and bone, having an actual body instead of only being a shadow behind the glass. He was afraid that if he touched him, he'd vanish in a puff of smoke as though to be an illusion.
"Hunter?" Gilbert called out softly, worried by his hesitation.
"Sorry, I was… lost in thought." Viktor apologized, his gaze never drifting away from the new sight.
Passing his arms through the spaces between the bars, his hands find Gilbert's in a gentle hold. The contact sent an electric shock through his body, making his temperature rise slightly. Oh gods, he was doing it. He was touching him.
"Um… could you take off the gloves, please?" the ill man requested, his voice clearer than ever now that the window was open. "If you're fine with that, that is."
"Right, of course…"
The dirty leather gloves were casted off, revealing underneath rough hands that were decorated with numerous scars. It was a far cry from the delicate artisan hands he once had long ago, before this whole hunt nonsense was shoved on top of him. That was one of the few things he still remembered from his past.
Gilbert made a soft hum upon having them in his grasp again, tracing along the violent marks with his thumb. Likewise, Viktor took the chance to also inspect his hands. They were cold, yet comforting at the same time. His nails, though short, appeared to grow pointed like small claws. But overall, being able to touch him was a blessing.
Viktor was unaware of why his touch riled him up this much, or why it made his heart feel stuck in his throat. Maybe he was as touch starved as his sick friend… if only not to think about the other possibility.
"You've got splendid hands…" Gilbert thought out loud. "I can tell that they're used to handling a strong weapon… fit for a good hunter, like yourself."
His praises burnt Viktor's cheeks with a pleasant warmth. "You've got soft hands…" he replied.
"Is that so?" Gilbert hummed with an audible smile. "You flatter me, good hunter."
The hunter caught himself mentally begging for him to keep calling him good, drunk from his sweet words. He wished to be able to explore more than just his hands, he wanted to touch more of his body so that it'd materialize and eventually bring forth a fully formed Gilbert into his reality. Pressing his body against the bars to get as close as possible, he dared to venture up his wrist in search of more. As one hand intertwined with his friend's, the other slipped under his sleeve and traveled upwards to touch unseen territory. A quick whimper left Gilbert's lips, which turned into coughing from his surprise. Viktor, realizing what he had just done, pulled away in shame. Still, that heavenly sound he had made just now…
"Oh, you're rather candid…" the sick man spoke up, retrieving his arms to Viktor's dismay. "What, were you planning to drag me out through the window?"
"It wasn't like that! I just got carried away…" Viktor answered sheepishly. "Sorry for that. It won't happen again."
"Don't worry yourself over it. I'm grateful you entertained this sorry man's request…"
A sense of panic filled the hunter at seeing the end of their interaction approaching. Who was to say this wouldn't be the last time they spoke to each other? If the hunt had taught him anything, it was that nothing was ever promised to stay when he averted his gaze from it. Ally hunters who were alive one day would wash up dead with their entrails out the next. Viktor had seen this fate happen two times now, and when it came to Gilbert specifically, it was a matter of when rather than what if.
Beasts roaming around or not, the man was chronically ill. If Viktor went away, he was afraid that the light inside would be long gone and that nothing but silence would greet him back when he returned. He didn't want to grieve a faceless man.
"Gilbert, wait-" he said hurriedly. "Since I've entertained you, can you entertain something for me in return…?"
"Oh? I'm not sure how I could entertain you, considering my limitations… but I'd be happy to try, whatever it is."
"...Your face. Can I see your face?"
From the gap, Viktor could see how Gilbert's hands rose as if to gesture, but kept still.
"Hunter… I- I can't open the window wider than this…" he replied quietly, rubbing his hands nervously. "It could be dangerous, in the case that something ambushes us…"
"You don't have to," Viktor said. "It's enough for me. Even if it's just your eyes… I would be happy with that. I want… something I can visualize when talking to you. Please."
The silhouette's head shifted to look down, considering. His hands never stopped wringing each other in an anxious mannerism. The hunter wanted so badly to reach in and hold them tenderly, to assure him that there was nothing to be afraid of. Alas, he patiently waited for his response.
Gilbert didn't verbally accept his request. Without a word, he moved to kneel down, facing difficulty by the strain of his weakened body. Seeing his movement, Viktor followed along and slowly copied the shadow to lower his head, going lower and lower until…
Eyes. A pair of pale blue, tired eyes looked back at him. Long strands of disheveled strawberry blonde hair framed them, showing the unkempt state he was in as a result of his debilitating illness. And yet, he looked so much better than any image Viktor could have possibly conjured up in his imagination.
"Oh, hunter…" the man sighed and Viktor felt his soul melt at his fond tone. "Your eyes… I never thought you'd have such curious eyes. They're reminiscent of precious rubies, with that rich red color…"
"And yours…" the hunter answered back, feeling as though his chest was going to explode. "Yours remind me of sapphires… no, of larimar. Your eyes are as stunning as larimar gems…"
Thanks to his pale skin, it was easy to notice how Gilbert acquired a soft pink blush from the compliment, his eyes squinting with a smile. Viktor's heart filled with warmth and longing, desiring nothing more than to brush the hair past his eyes and caress his face.
This was a dangerous game he was playing. The hunter shouldn't be allowing himself to dream like this, it was a recipe for disaster. But tonight Gilbert was alive, right in front of him and with a gaze that made him believe he too longed to close the gap between them. If he asked to be let inside, would he let him in? If he asked to hold him close and bury his face in his neck, would he allow him to do so?
Would Gilbert stay alive as long as he held him and didn't let go?
A single hand tried again to reach out for him, hesitating but inviting his friend to do the same. The sick man was about to follow suit and extend his arm to grab him until a maddening sound made the softness in his eyes drain completely, being replaced by cold fear. Clumsily, he cowered back inside his home and closed the window shut while the hunter retook his weapon in hand and turned around with a low growl, seeking the origin of the sound. Stumbling through the opened gate, the figure of a huntsman holding a torch in one hand and a cleaver in the other emerged, mumbling curses directed to the hunter who was seen as a threat to the Yharnamites. Gulping down, Viktor throwed himself on top of the mad man in seconds. If he was going to be treated like a beast, then he was going to act like one.
The huntsman went down with barely a fight, reduced to a mangled mess of flesh by the hunter's trusty saw cleaver. His blood and guts were splattered all over him, sliding off the leather jacket and soaking up his shirt underneath. Viktor scowled at the stench of blood left behind, getting out a handkerchief to clean the gore off his glasses. However, his mind went back to Gilbert at the end. Hoping that the fight hadn't frightened him, Viktor walked up to the window and knocked on the glass again.
"Are you alright, Gilbert?" he asked.
"I should be the one asking you that…" the frail voice answered, back to being an indistinct shadow behind the window. But this time he could imagine his gentle eyes squinting from the worried furrow of his eyebrows. "Were you hurt?"
"Not at all… It has been dealt with."
"I'm glad to hear that…"
As the silence fell, Viktor realized he had no other excuses left to prolong his visit. He needed to get moving, lest the hunt turn for the worst as the hours pass by.
"If you're going back to the hunt, please do stay safe…" Gilbert told him, as though he had been reading his thoughts just now. "I'd be glad to hear about you again in the near future, if the gods permit it."
"I… I'd be happy to see you again, too." Viktor said. "Gilbert, I know you can't promise me this… but please, live. Live enough for us to meet again."
Oh, this was a fool's hope, he was sure of it . But if it was what drove him to survive this dreadful hunt full of beasts and monsters outside of his understanding, was it something so bad?
Gilbert pressed a hand against the glass, wishing he could reach out towards his hunter. Viktor mimicked him and placed his hand on top of his, so close yet still separated by the window pane. He had thought that he lost the ability to have hope long ago… and yet here he was, hoping with his whole weak, little heart that he'd live another day to meet with the hunter once again.
"You're right, promise I cannot…" he replied. "But I can certainly try, and try I will. When morning comes, I'll look forward to having a nice tea and chatting with you, without the window between us-" his incessant coughing interrupted him, tasting copper in his mouth. He was running out of time. "My hunter… prove to me that I haven't misplaced my hope."
Viktor's heart fluttered with bittersweet ambition, nodding his head with a promise to come back in one piece. Even after his legs forced him to leave the residency behind, the scent of incense lingered on his person. Somehow, the incense Gilbert used had a distinct smell that differed from the ones the Yharnamites used. Perhaps it was native to his hometown. It smelled like Gilbert, and that brought him comfort as he drifted into the endless night.