At first, Ciel was angry at Sebastian for taking a form almost identical to his own father's.
He supposed it was because he didn't want to be reminded every day of the terrible death his parents had died. He would like to say that was the only reason—but it wasn't. There was another reason Ciel had been angry with Sebastian for a much worse reason than that. There were much worse things than what he had experienced that day.
Vincent Phantomhive was a kind and courteous man up front. Alone, though, it was a much different story. Ciel had always slightly feared his father, since there were two sides to every person, and he often experienced both. There was a side Vincent showed when it was only he and his son. Never around his wife or company. It was a side that Ciel feared like nothing else and would do anything to escape. He didn't know why it had happened or what would make his own father do such things, and he still didn't know to this day, exactly four years after the day the original Phantomhive estate burned to the ground. He had thought it was normal and it hadn't been much when he was young, usually just the occasional unjustified spanking or when Ciel would climb up on his father's lap and feel something pressing against him.
However, it escalated when Ciel grew older, and the then boy realized that what his father did to him was most definitely not normal. Still, he never told anyone, for he simply tried to ignore that part of his father and only focus on the loving fatherly man he was the other half of the time. It was odd, Ciel has now realized, that his father could go from one side to another in a matter of only seconds. He seemed to be nice and loving more often than abusive, but the times when he was abusive were burned into Ciel's mind, sticking there for all of eternity.
Four years after the fire that burned down Ciel's childhood, the earl found himself thinking about this while staring out the picture window in his office. The thoughts seemed to cross his mind more and more often these days. Ciel sighed, leaning his chin on his hand, the clear blue sky outside casting a bluish color onto his face and exposed skin. It was a nice day out, but Ciel was awaiting the horse-drawn carriage to pick him and his avid butler up for their annual trip to the summer home in London. Nevertheless, Ciel was not too excited about it, since lately things had become a slight drag. Things were going slow at the company and not too many big events had happened lately. It had also been a month without any word from the queen.
Ciel actually preferred working and doing paperwork to alone time, since alone time meant thinking time, which only led him to thinking of painful memories, and that was no good. He could not live in the past. He wouldn't allow it. It kept on happening, though, and Ciel found himself unable to stop it. It was embarrassing, really, since all this thinking had led to nightmares and then to, well, Ciel wetting the bed, which was just beyond humiliating and even more so to call his butler in to change his sheets in the middle of the night. It was happening a lot lately, especially, and Ciel couldn't stand it. Too much free time wasn't a good thing as it was for others. He hated sleeping, as well, as that was when the nightmares came to haunt.
Before, he usually had his mother to go to for the nightmares. That was before the fire burned the mansion down. Now all he had was a demon butler with the face of Ciel's father. That certainly didn't help matters.
"Young Master."
Ciel didn't look up, not wanting to see the demon with features almost identical to his father's. He continued to look out the window, watching a family of baby birds in the tree outside. So carefree… Wouldn't it be nice to be normal? Ciel knew he could never be. He had sold his soul to the devil himself. Perhaps it had been a mistake or a childish choice, but Ciel didn't regret it. He still had the same intentions he did on that day and he wasn't about to change. After all, it was a little too late for that, and Ciel wasn't exactly the type to change his mind.
"What is it?" Ciel meant to snap at Sebastian, not for any particular reason except that he was annoyed that the demon had drawn him out of his thoughts. However, it came out softer than he'd expected, in an almost curious tone, not angry in the least.
"The carriage is ready and the luggage has been loaded," Sebastian informed him, surely checking his watch with annoyance evident in his voice. Like a good butler, he always cared about being on time and nothing else. Sometimes, though, Ciel wanted to slap him out of frustration. Sebastian just didn't care and it was painstakingly obvious. It hurt and burned and Ciel had no idea why he wanted him to care, but he did and Sebastian gladly took the abuse that Ciel inflicted when the anger boiled over.
"Have you hired someone to drive the horses?" Ciel questioned, attempting to appear bored. He still had his head on the palm of his head, turned toward the picture window, his other hand drumming on the opposite arm of the chair.
"Shall I?"
Ciel's eyes flickered towards his butler at the question, now slightly annoyed at him. He turned towards him, finally allowing himself to look at him, to see the face which clearly resembled his abusive father's. He often wondered what had been going through Sebastian's demonic mind when Ciel had contracted him and he had appeared to him in that form after killing off the cult members who had planned to sacrifice the ten year-old boy. It had made him beyond angry, had made him spitting insane and had caused him to hate the being who would protect him until the time came for him to steal Ciel's soul. He had been so angry, in fact, that he had given him the name of the family dog, Sebastian.
Gradually that hate had faded away. In the first few months of trying to recover from the cult members' abuse, and trying to get back on his feet, he would hide in Sebastian's shadow, away from the cruel world, treating the butler as someone close, someone who would protect him. Back then, he had been childish and weak, hiding behind Sebastian whenever anyone had tried to touch him, even if the person was a family friend. As a shy young child, he'd done the same thing with his father, even after the abuse had began to worsen. During the first month or so Ciel had saw Sebastian as his father, not his butler or the demon he had contracted. He hadn't accepted his role as Sebastian's controller and master.
"That wasn't the question, Sebastian," Ciel growled. This time, his voice came out exactly how he had wanted it to. He forced himself to look straight into Sebastian's face, trying not to pay attention to how much he looked like a younger version of his father. He rose slowly, never taking his eyes off of Sebastian.
"Is something wrong, Young Master?" Sebastian asked, his voice and expression still apathetic. Ciel clenched his fingers in a fist, angered, annoyed. He wanted some sort of feeling, some sort of indication that Sebastian did care and was concerned about him. Even ordering him to fake a feeling would be enough, but Ciel couldn't even bring himself to do that. That would be admitting that he wanted a feeling, something that he wouldn't even allow himself to think. It was admitting defeat, admitting that he had grown attached to something that would end up killing him and ripping him apart from the inside out.
Ciel didn't answer immediately and instead walked out of the room, passing by Sebastian as he did so. "Hire a driver," He ordered sternly. "You'll be riding with me."
…
Ciel wondered sometimes if he was a masochist. Other times, he thought he was a sadist. Right now was a mix of both those feelings, as well as a couple others.
Ciel sat in the large chair in one of the cozy living rooms at the summer home in London, a nonchalant look on his face as he looked Sebastian over. It was the smallest common room in the house, out of the three there were. Ciel often fell asleep in this room while reading or doing paperwork, but right now he was feeling up to a game. Not a usual, juvenile game, of course, but one of Ciel's own games, one in which he made up his own rules and would never lose.
"Does it exhaust you to stand there for so long?" Ciel pondered aloud, still not taking his eyes off of Sebastian, who had been standing in the same position before him for almost two hours now. He knew the answer to this. He knew a lot about demons, since, after all, his butler had came straight from the depths of hell. Sebastian could not get tired. Sleep was a luxury for him, and a privilege Ciel allowed him. Sebastian could not get fatigued or even sick, but at times, Ciel felt as if he saw Sebastian as too human and let the fact that he was a different sort of being slip away. He needed a reminder to tell him that Sebastian had taken the form of his father to spite him and that this wasn't the real Sebastian. The real Sebastian was a demon and a cold hearted killer who could easily take the life and soul of anyone off the street, not a human who cared, as Ciel sometimes liked to pretend he was.
Sebastian smirked, moving for the first time since Ciel had called him over. He was being a good boy, and Ciel was being bothered by those wretched memories. In the darkness, all he could think about was being held down to the floor in this very same room when he was only nine.
"You know that I cannot tire, Young Master," Sebastian reminded him, just as Ciel had wanted. The teenager in the chair sighed, leaning back, closing his eyes for a short moment. For some reason, it still stung, even though that was exactly what Ciel had wanted to hear. He wouldn't let it affect him. He'd just have to ignore his childish wants for the time being and deal with them later.
Ciel opened his eyes again, his stare turning cold as the pangs in his chest lessened. "You don't love me," Ciel stated, somehow managing to get each of the words out without a single feeling as he looked into the face that mirrored his father's. In this room, with the darkness only broken by a crackling distant fire, the memories were a little more vivid than usual, especially with the emotionless look he was getting from Sebastian. His father had worn the exact same look after suddenly changing from the nice, fatherly man to the violent, insane man.
"I don't love you," Sebastian repeated, his face unchanging. Ciel listened carefully and he could only hope that his inner feelings didn't show, the feelings that betrayed Ciel. Sebastian went on, fixing his master with a gaze that told him that this was the cold, hard truth, "I never will. I cannot love, just as I cannot tire."
The hurt turned into burning anger and hatred that raged throughout Ciel's body. On the arms of the chair, his hands curled into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard that little beads of blood appeared. He hated Sebastian. Absolutely hated him. He knew why Ciel had his nightmares and wet the bed. He knew why Ciel involved himself in as much work as possible and would look for more when it was all done. He knew everything. He always knew everything. Ciel had never told him. He had never spoke of his troubling past with his father. And yet, Sebastian just knew. Somehow, some way, he knew and it bothered Ciel. It bothered and angered him like nothing else. Sebastian knew everything, and he did nothing to comfort Ciel or even give him the illusion of the concern and love that the human so craved. It made him go absolutely mad that Sebastian just didn't care and wouldn't ever care. All the demon wanted was another meal, while Ciel secretly wanted what every human did.
The fact that Ciel wanted this made him punish himself. He did so every day, making himself go through pain because he wanted some sort of fake love from his demon. His punishment was not ordering Sebastian to take a different form, which they both knew would be very easy for him. He punished himself by staying close to Sebastian and forcing himself to look at his face many, many times a day. He hated it, but he loved the pain and got some sort of sick enjoyment from inflicting it on himself.
"We're going to play a game," Ciel smiled, smirking at the thoughts. They played these sort of 'games' often, and Sebastian had no protest when Ciel took out his anger at both himself and Sebastian.
"Oh?" Sebastian returned his smirk, the same smirk Ciel saw almost every day. "And how do I win?"
Ciel's smirk only grew, "You don't. I win. I always win."
Vincent smirked at Ciel, the ten year-old curled up on the bed, sobbing and naked, fluids dripping down his legs and chin.
"Don't you see, Ciel?" Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, somewhere in between his fatherly mood and his violent one. He placed a hand on the little child's leg, stroking lightly. "You lose. I win. I always win."
First of all, I think I should state that I know that Vincent didn't abuse Ciel. This is just a sort of "what-if" scenario. I tried to get Ciel and Sebastian into character as much as possible, but it was a bit hard, especially since I'm used to the Loveless characterizations, not the kuroshitsuji ones. I really tried my hardest.
There will probably be a second chapter, if people like this. Review please.
~Wolfie
