It was harder than he had expected it to be. Sure, he had told himself it'd be alright, that he could handle it. That after Alois felt that after his childhood he could handle anything. But (sadly) he was human just like everyone else, and like everyone else he craved a place to belong. He'd accepted he wouldn't ever have one, but it didn't stop the agonizing pain in his stomach when it became so obvious he would never belong. It sickened him to know there was a smile gracing his lips, it didn't reach his eyes (but no one noticed. No one ever noticed). He tried to listen to the words, the vows, that were being spoken (promises of fidelity and dedication), but he couldn't. He could only take so much.
He was here.
He was smiling.
He was giving up.
The wedding had been beautiful, everything it was expected to be, Ciel had a name to live up to. Alois followed through the motions, he greeted people, he had light empty conversations. It was a struggle, to keep the appearance up of a young lord who was happy to be here. It was a struggle to keep the trembling out of his hands, and to keep his legs from collapsing from under him. Ciel had his own life now, a marriage, it was set in stone.
Ciel had a place, as he always had. It had felt nice, curled up in a soft bed, thin arms around him, holding him, giving him a place. It had felt so amazing, to have somewhere he could belong. That had been his place, at first he knew it was temporary, but at some point over the years he had forgotten that. He found himself in that position so often that his body had shifted and molded to fit perfectly in the younger males arms. The need to have a place had slowly but surely disappeared, because he had a place. The evening before the wedding he had been curled in Ciel's arms, scarred back exposed to the deep blue eyes. Oh how it had hurt, to feel the hours pass, to be reassuring the Phantomhive that he had always known it was something temporary. He didn't want Ciel to feel bad, it was his duty, and Elizabeth was a good person. As the hours passed he felt the pain in his chest appear again, it could almost be called agony.
When the sun started to stain the sky with pale orange light he had pried his body from the bed, and he struggled to control the trembling of his hands and the weakness of his body as he pulled on his clothing. As he buttoned up his jacket he looked at Ciel, lips twitching for a moment as if he wanted to speak, but he couldn't. And with that he had left. He sat in the carriage, back straight, blue eyes hollow as he stared out the window. It took all his strength to keep from collapsing. He had to make an appearance tomorrow, to reassure Ciel that it was all alright.
The days following the wedding passed, and he barely noticed. He sent notice to Ciel, as well as a congratulations, that he would be traveling for the next month or so. A trip he always wanted to make, he had written. Once that was done the gates of the Trancy Estate were shut, and the doors of the mansion locked and the curtains were drawn. He never left the house, he barely left his room. After having a place for so long loosing it so suddenly had broke what little bit of himself he'd managed to hold onto.
Alois couldn't eat. Or sleep. He was barely alive anymore, an empty shell of what he once was. The once bright blue eyes were dull, and empty. The life had drained out of the house. Claude never gave up on trying to feed him, to coax any bit of nutrients down the throat of the young Trancy. He carried him to the bath when he needed to be bathed, a hand planted firmly against his back to keep him from crumpling (he seemed so fragile). Eventually he could tell the young man couldn't return to what he once was. Claude could tell that one day when he came in to wake up his master it would be impossible, and that evening he came, as he always had he attempted to feed his master, but the man could barely hold his own body up, or keep his eyes open. That night Claude had taken the man's soul, it was almost an act of mercy. Alois had wanted to die, but at the same time he had hoped that Ciel would come and take him back. He had hoped that he would wake up curled in the Phantomhive's thin arms, back pressed against the younger male's chest.
It never happened.
And that night Alois Trancy died, and not one person felt like something was missing. After all, he never had a place. Something that never was could never be missed.