Sebastian had been preparing dinner—pheasant served with rice coquettes—when he heard a peculiar sound: a bath being filled in his master's chamber. Curious, even for a demon, he abandoned his preparations in favor of investigating.
Ciel was sitting in his porcelain tub with his knees pulled up to his chest, eyes closed and body trembling. He was still fully dressed. His wet clothes were floating around his frail form in a thin soup of bathwater, vomit, and urine. His eye patch was in his hand, clutched in a death grip.
Sebastian cleared his throat, making his presence known.
Ciel didn't even bother to open his eyes. "P-piss off, Sebastian," he hissed through chattering teeth.
He swore he heard a smirk appear on his butler's stupid perfect face. He didn't know a smirk made a sound. Leave it up to a demon to invent a noise solely to irritate him.
But finding a way to punish him would have to come later. Ciel's bigger problem was his state of mind. After three years, it was baffling how easy it still was for certain things to trigger him. Absurdly mundane things, like rotting cabbage or exceptionally loud brass keys. Sometimes it took nothing at all. No reason. He would simply break down, and he would be right back at that place like he had never left.
That cage.
"Master, had you told me you had wanted another bath, I would have had one drawn for you."
"J-just get … get out of he-ere. Let me ha-handle this," he gasped out, his eyes still squeezed shut.
He was hyperventilating. Drool was seeping from his mouth and mixing with his sweat. His empty stomach suddenly sent acid up back his esophagus and he started to violently retch again.
"I-I need t-to do th- this on … on my own."
Before he could gather enough of his wits together to launch a protest, Sebastian had him pulled up to standing. His hands flew to cover his face as his wet garments were discarded. Soap was worked into a lather and scoured over his skin, then given a quick rinse with clean, warm water. A fresh towel dried him briskly, before being wrapped around his hips.
"Breathe."
Those crimson eyes spared Ciel no pity.
"L-let me … let me g-… let me go Sebastian!" he choked out.
Tears were falling from between his fingers.
"Don't be ridiculous, sir. If I do, you'll collapse. Now breathe."
Sebastian wasn't pleading with him. It was not a request. It was an order.
"I-I s-said I'm fine. L-leave me be," Ciel stuttered, his fury at Sebastian's defiance buried under a layer of exhaustion.
"Would you want me to let you fall, then?"
"LEAVE ME BE SEBASTIAN!"
"No."
Ciel opened his eyes, startled. His butler's blatant refusal shocked him right out of his psychosis.
"You needn't deal with this by yourself, young master. You aren't alone anymore."
Ciel nodded weakly. His heart started to settle and his arms gripped on to Sebastian for support.
"I'm fine. It's over."
"Master, you must remember to call for me if you feel you are in danger. As you know, I cannot detect when you have these—"
A hand slapped across his face.
"You are not to take that tone with me, Sebastian. You've been rude enough for one day."
"My sincerest apologies," he said, confused for once.
"I wasn't in any danger, you idiot. It only lasts a few minutes."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed as he digested his master's last statement. He frowned, finally understanding. "Precisely how many times have you dealt with this without my knowledge? Suffering on your own? Cleaning up after?"
Ciel scoffed. "Enough to know I can do well enough without you." He sighed, realizing he needed to explain himself further. "Get me something to change into. I'll tell you after, if you'd really care to know."
...
Ciel was sitting on his bed, dressed in fresh white pajamas. He was several chapters deep into a work of Machiavelli when a knock alerted him of Sebastian's presence. His butler pushed in a tea trolley and went about assembling a cup of warm milk and honey.
"Don't sweeten it, Sebastian. I have no appetite for sweet things tonight."
A tea cup was filled and set on a saucer. "Oh? How very unlike yourself," Sebastian said as he passed him his drink.
Ciel noted most people would interpret his butler's current facial expression as concern. He knew better.
"Are you certain there is nothing else I can bring you, sir? You skipped dinner; it's best you eat something."
"I will not stand for a lecture on hunger from you, of all people."
"Of course, my lord."
Ciel took a sip from his drink and sighed, knowing this discussion was long overdue. "Sit. I don't want to be straining my neck up to you."
Sebastian froze for much longer than a being of his kind should hesitate, before managing to splutter out, "Master? You want me to—"
"Sit yourself down on my bed, not kill me of old age. Come on, I never thought a demon like you could be such a prude," he said, a bit halfheartedly. After an attack, he never had enough enthusiasm to put much malice into his insults.
Sebastian's gloved fingers graced his silver lapel pin. "As you wish, sir." He positioned himself next to his young master. "Although I can assure you, a prude I am most definitely not."
Ciel took a deep breath and began his confession. "When I ruin my clothes, I bundle them in sheets so Mey-Rin doesn't notice when she does laundry."
"And your reason for not telling me?"
"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you I just liked getting away with it under your nose, eh?" he said, bitter.
"My lord, I'm here to help you through all of your endeavors. To hide these things from me is simply not using me to my full potential."
"What exactly do you plan on doing? You want to hold my hair back?" Ciel rested his head back on a pillow. "I'm fine Sebastian. I'm … I'm coping. I'm told that's what humans do before they're strong enough to heal."
He finished what remained of his milk and looked up to meet Sebastian's gaze. "Not that I expect to be alive long enough for that to come to pass," he said, without a trace of sadness.
"I'm sure you would have healed quite well, young master, had you time."
"But I don't. And there's no use crying over this…" he upturned his cup so a drop of liquid landed between them. "…is there?" he asked.
Sebastian pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed it clean. "No. No point at all."
He stood, taking Ciel's cup and saucer from him. "Should you wish to continue managing your attacks on your own, I shall not intervene. However, please try your best to get some rest tonight. Tomorrow will be a long day," he said as he turned to go.
"Sebastian, wait!" Ciel called out. "I wanted to say that … it was over a lot faster with you there." He swallowed. "That's all. You may leave."
He bowed. "Sleep well, my lord."
FIN
