Humans are such creatures of habit, Sebastian noted from his years of serving and observing them.
They are undoubtedly set in their ways and take comfort in well-practiced routine.
So when the nighttime screams of his young lord Ciel, Earl of Phantomhive, echoed throughout the long halls of the manor, Sebastian knew exactly what to do:
Dash to the lord's chambers with the grace and speed that only a demon could possess
Crack the door open to determine if the lord was in any real danger (he never was)
Slowly, as not to further disrupt the troubled boy, enter the room and approach the lord's bedside
Gently inquire as to if it was a nightmare
Wait for the young lord to deny
Hold him. Hold him in his arms for as long as the child wanted, or required (the two differed. Most often than not, the lord required to be consoled a lot longer than he let on.)
It was a foolproof routine, one that Sebastian carried out with ease. Both servant and master knew the procedure flawlessly by now. Sebastian would cradle the boy so far removed from reality in his slender yet strong arms, and whisper familiar promises while waiting for the child to calm down.
Although the night terrors were awful, the routine to quell them was comfort.
Tonight was sure to be no exception.
With steps one to three completed, Sebastian carefully leaned closer, ready to initiate soothing physical contact that would begin to remind Ciel that he was in no real danger, that he was out of the cage and in a manor run by servants who were fiercely loyal to and cared deeply for him.
But when Sebastian leaned over to place a hand on the shaking shoulder, intending to console the poor boy, the little one writhed back, eyes wide and aquiver.
The butler's own eyes widened. "My lord, whatever frightens you so?"
By design, Sebastian and Sebastian alone would do the comforting, for he was the only one who could get through to the boy. Now he needed reinforcements.
So Sebastian broke the routine.
He went to fetch the servants.
Sending his master a mental vow to be back in a moment, Sebastian raced down the hall in his usual demon poise. He silently assembled the servants.
Tanaka's quarters were on the other side of the manor, and Snake was still warming up to the inner workings of the manor and the people in it, so for the moment, Sebastian gathered only Finny, Mey-Rin, and Bardroy.
After informing them that their lord has been struck by a "terrible affliction," Sebastian led them to the lord's room.
Ciel was huddled up against his headboard, little chest breathing heavily, his eyes darting around the room.
It reminded the servants of the witch village in Germany when Ciel, possessed by the miasma, wouldn't let anyone save Finny around him.
So the gardener tiptoed to Ciel's bedside, hoping to console him the way he had before. Finny reached his hand out slowly to the child.
He was met with a sharp slap.
"Back away!" cried Ciel, frantic.
Finny blinked back tears. "Young master, I didn't mean to frighten you," he admitted. He outstretched his hand again, reminding himself to be gentle. "I'm just trying to—"
"Get away!" the boy shrieked again. In his frenzy, he pushed the gardener to the ground.
Finny, although harbored with ungodly strength, was not expecting his master to act so aggressively. Caught off guard, Finny fell to the floor with a thud, landing hard on his elbow.
Had he possessed normal strength, Finny still would not have registered the sharp pain searing through his arm. Ciel was his number one – no, his only – priority.
Why isn't this working? the gardener chided himself. Ciel wasn't the only scared young man in the room. Finny felt a tingling sensation in his legs, a feeling that resonated whenever something dramatic, frightening, or otherwise less than ideal arose among his loved ones. Superhuman strength, tender heart.
Trying to calm his increasingly pounding heartbeat, Finny stood up. He brushed himself off and took a deep breath. Please let this work! he prayed, taking a step closer to the boy. "Young master, it's me! It's—"
"Finny." Bardroy's stern voice rang out. "It's no good. Let me take a whack at it."
Soldiers need discipline, Bardroy assured himself. He marched right up to the frightened child's bedside. "Young master," he dictated. "Knock it off."
Ciel growled at him.
Bardroy wasn't having any tomfoolery. "I said knock it off!" he demanded.
The young lord swiped Bardroy's hand, the latter not moving an inch.
"I could do this all day," the chef retorted. Kid's more stubborn than any enemy I came across on the battlefield.
But no matter how long Bardroy stood there, Ciel kept punching Bardroy's chest. "Go away! Go away!" he barked.
That's when Mey-Rin took a silent step forward.
In one swift motion, she gathered the boy in her arms and sat down on the edge of the bed with him in her lap.
As if by magic, his howling quieted down. Wide watery eyes looked up at her.
"M—" he began.
'Mey-Rin'? Had the lord finally realized where he was and who was with him?
"Mother."
A small gasp escaped the maid's lips. 'Mother'? Surely the child was delusional, thinking that the woman holding him was anything but his loyal housemaid. But then maybe she should play along for his sake, help him calm down. What was she to do? Should she go with the façade and pretend to be his mother?
One nod from Sebastian told her in the affirmative.
Mey-Rin nodded in return and turned to the child, whose eyes softened as he nestled close to her. "You're safe now, yes you are," she hushed, voice that rare cool and smooth tone. "Mother's right here." She rocked him to a soothing song she began to hum.
Eventually the maid got the little boy calm in her arms. She heard his soft breathing and felt his chest rise and fall with the blessing of a sound sleep.
"Mama," the child cooed in his sleep.
Smiling sadly to herself, Mey-Rin stroked the soft blue hair of her little lord.
"Maybe that's what he needed," crooned Bardroy to Finny. "A mother's touch." He cleared his throat. "Well. I think our job here is done," he announced. "Let's beat it. I'm bushed." He tapped Finny on the shoulder to signal that it was time for them to take their leave.
Finny smiled at his beloved young master, calm once more. He waved a thank you to Mey-Rin and bowed goodnight.
"Mey-Rin. You comin'?" Bardroy asked as he turned to exit the room.
The young lady looked up and gently shook her head no, careful not to disturb the boy.
Bardroy nodded in understanding, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, and Sebastian ushered the men out of the room and down the hall, closing the door softly behind him as he exited.
So for that night alone, it was Mey-Rin who stayed with the sleeping child, wishing she could take his pain away but innumerably grateful that she could share his pain and make it just a little better, if only for one night.
I wanted to get the first chapter out by Ciel's birthday, and it's still the 14th my time, so, victory!