"Doesn't he look peaceful?"
The child was curled up in the crib, long-lashed eyes closed, rosy lips parted ever so little in an unconscious smile. His blue-black hair was thrown in a halo around his angelic face, his little fist clutching at a lock, the other hand loosely gripping a rattle. The pair leaned over the perfect image, watching their son sleep with a look of intermingled love and adoration.
The woman sighed contentedly, pushing blonde locks away from her face. The man shot her a wary look, and said, "That wasn't what you said a minute ago. Lord, how does that boy do it? Destroy a whole kitchen when he can't even walk?"
The blonde rolled her eyes, walking out of the room. "Don't exaggerate. Sebastian did quite a lot of damage, too."
"Oh, so Sebastian bribed Tanaka into giving him sweets with those cute-baby eyes. Oh, yes. Blame it on the puppy."
"Vincent!"
The pair headed to bed with laughter and exchanged banter. When the man rested his head on the pillow some twenty minutes (and a cup of well-deserved tea) later, he fell into sleep with a faint smile.
The duties of the Watchdog often left the Earl bone-weary, the tendrils of the underworld snaking into his soul and bleaching him so that he felt like he was fading into terrible darkness. The underhanded dealings and hellish deeds he performed daily threatened to disrupt the little peace he had, and he felt the very essence of himself (him, Vincent Phantomhive, the man who loved lazing around and spoiling his son rotten and playing with his wife and fooling around with Sebastian and eating sweets until Tanaka yelled at him) slowly intermingling with the dark face of the Watchdog.
But days like this, spent with laughter, love and unadulterated joy, always kept such darkness at bay.
Which was why he was unsurprised to next open his eyes in a dream; sweet, worry-free days often ended in idle dreams.
The scene opened on a child, aged six or so. The child was perched precariously on the ledge of a window (wasn't that the window in Ciel's room?) with his face scrunched up in concentration, dark blue-tinted hair falling over cerulean eyes. He was pinching the fabric of his seemingly expensive dress shirt, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.
A woman walked in. Rachel!
Ah, she looked older. That cherubic boy must be Ciel, then. Vincent smiled when his wife scolded the boy for running away from his tutor (the man chuckled at that) and for knocking over a vase. (Yes, that was definitely Ciel, he thought fondly.)
"What will your father say?" she said, exasperated. "And why on earth would you do such a thing, Ciel? You love History!"
The boy looked up at her with the air of one carefully considering his words, and mumbled, "I do like History. But Mr. Briggs is scary. And I wanted to be un-scared 'fore I studied."
Her expression softening, she sighed. "Alright...apologise to Mr. Briggs and get to your lesson." The boy pranced off the window ledge and pranced off with a cheery, "Yes, mother!"
After he'd gone, the woman sighed, and muttered, "And he gets away with it...again."
Vincent laughed outright, loving the delightful future image presented to him. Love swelling his heart, he blinked slightly when the scene changed.
It was another image of that beautiful boy, playing with a large dog (was that Sebastian? Lord, that puppy had grown) and laughing, throwing a stick to the far end of the garden with all the force in his delicate hand.
"Sebastian! No, Sebastian!" he was protesting vehemently when the beast attacked him full-force instead of chasing it, covering him in paw-marks and drool. "Fetch the stick, Sebastian, not me!"
Vincent smiled wider, seeing the endearing sight.
"Sebastian!"
"Sebastian!"
The scene was melting away, the image melding itself into something else. The sense of foreboding that takes residence right before a dream twists into a nightmare settled at the back of his head. Oh, dear...
"Sebastian!"
The voice calling that name transformed from laughing and young to icy and harsh. The room that materialized before him was darkened so that the only light came from a crack in the curtains. Timid rays of sunlight danced on the face of a child, far older than the one he had just left. The boy looked irked, a scowl twisting childish features in disdain. With a sense of dull shock, Vincent noted the eye patch covering one eye, the other a dark midnight blue...
Is that Ciel? No, this boy was too cold and detached, the aura radiating from him too cruel and dark. This couldn't be the laughing boy from a few moments ago.
"Where is that infernal demon?" the boy muttered, more to himself than anything else. He raised his voice and yelled out, "Sebastian! Get up here, and leave that cat!"
A boy...shouting ...in his study? Yes, that was Vincent's study, but the familiar warmth accumulated there from hours of playing with his son seemed to have faded.
The child got up, glowering at the world in general. Struck by the way the boy carried himself (more befitting of a grown man than a child of twelve...which he must have been), Vincent fabricated sufficient explanation for the image. He must have been in an accident and lost his eye...and he must be playing in my study...pretending to be me...hah...makes sense...this is Ciel, right? Well, he looks like him...and he's calling Sebastian...he really loves Sebastian...but doesn't Sebastian usually come running? He must've seen a cat...
This thought and decided upon, he was veritably startled when a tall man with raven hair and terrifying scarlet eyes walked in.
"You called, My Lord?"
"Yes I did, you idiot! For ages! What on earth were you doing?!"
The man bowed respectfully, and said, "Merely attending to my duties as butler, My Lord." Butler? Where was Tanaka? And who was this guy? Was this Sebastian? Wasn't Sebastian a dog?
"...meaning you saw a cat. Idiot," The boy rolled his eyes, irritated, and said, "Have you done what I asked?"
"Yes...the men from Scotland Yard are still unaware of recent happenings, and I have made sure that remains as such. And Young Master will be travelling to the London townhouse tomorrow."
The boy sighed. Furrowing his brows, he scowled, "The Queen's being quite bothersome about this, really. The dealings of those vermin should be of no concern to us...and this will cause issues with Lau...but, nonetheless, I'm carted off with this..."
Was this the future? Of his son as the Watchdog, this black-clad man serving him with a demonic smirk on his face? No...It couldn't be...
Too young...too young for that cold expression, so devoid of feeling...
The scene switched.
Now he was in a room, a child sitting up in bed, glowering. The same boy, the same face...except for his eyes...
No more were the depths of darkened sapphire...they shone a dark blood red, luminescent in the gloom.
A scream burst from Vincent's lips.
A voice, the voice of the butler Sebastian, whispered in his ear, dark and cruel, "A demon. That's what he is, worthless human."
What?!
"You brought it upon him."
Eyes fixed on the boy, who called for Sebastian again, the eyes of glowing scarlet sending fresh gasps out of his throat, Vincent wondered if this (this abomination, this broken horror) was really, truly, his son...
"He is your son; your child, your spawn, who you brought to doom."
"How?!" Vincent demanded, nearly hysterical.
"You made the wrong enemies. They stole your child and broke him. He was broken and twisted to the point of summoning one such as I."
One such as him? What...realization dawned on him, bringing with it fresh horror. "Demon..." he breathed, utter pain wrenching his heart.
"Yes, such as I...he summoned me...and, by unforeseen circumstances, turned into one such as I."
His Ciel, his son, a demon...
The boy looked at him, right then. Whereas he appeared to have been invisible a few moments ago, the child now gazed right at him, looking surprised.
"Sebastian, who on earth is that?"
He felt like screaming again. Was that his son looking at him like he was lunch?
"An intruder, My Lord." Where had the demon butler come from? He was bent over the child, whispering into his ear (but Vincent could hear him anyway), "I advise against indulgence, My Lord. I think another meal would only lead to yet another stomach ache."
Meal? Vincent felt sick.
"Gah, what do you know?" the boy sulked petulantly, eyeing Vincent the way he he'd often seen his son eye a sweet. Then, after a moment's sulking, he said, "Fine. Dispose of him. And bring me cake."
Vincent thought he could see Sebastian roll his eyes. "No more cake, Young Master. It is far past your bedtime."
The scene melted away again, just as Ciel scowled and glared at the man.
Vincent was in his room. The butler Sebastian was in front of him smiling in a humorous way that sent a chill down his spine.
"You brought about your demise."
Vincent blinked, still utterly confused.
"Your child will never see the gates of heaven," A cruel smile stretched across the demon's face, "he will be a monstrosity for all eternity."
Vincent was about to cry out, scream at the demon that he loved his son and that he would never, never bring such a fate upon him, when he started awake.
Rachel was frowning at him concernedly. He was sitting upright, rigid and covered in cold sweat.
"Are you alright, dear? You were having a nightmare."
A nightmare...part of him relaxed, but the more suspicious side pushed him to walk out of the room, a worried Rachel behind him.
He walked into Ciel's room, where the boy was still lying peacefully. Feeling numb, he picked up his child and hugged him close, mumbling to himself, "Not real...just a dream...not real..."
He clutched his son closer, trembling slightly.
He looked to the window, and his blood ran cold.
"What's wrong, dear? It's only a crow."
The bird with scarlet eyes, perched on the window, seemed to watch mockingly as he cradled Ciel to his chest, shuddering slightly.
[...]
The boy was curled lazily on the bed, awaiting his butler.
"Dealt with?" he questioned, eyes distant, when the man walked in.
"Yes, My lord. That intruder will not be coming back."
"Good."
There was silence, and then the child said, "Sebastian, who was he?"
"No one of any immediate importance," the butler replied truthfully. "But why do you ask, My Lord?"
"No reason...he just looked remarkably like my father." He paused, snuggling deeper into the covers. "No matter, it isn't important. Goodnight, Sebastian."
He was buried under a pile of white silk, and was unable to see the dark smirk that made its way across the demon's features.
"Goodnight, Young Master."
He blew out the candle with a light chuckle, a cruel gleam to his eyes.
Humans were such amusing things...