It was a shame, really. The little earl had few who he would dare consider close to companions, and the number only continued to deplete. However, pawns were pawns; his revenge was of utmost priority, and anyone who would stand in the way of achieving it must be eliminated.
Today, that person was the little Phantomhive gardener.
Not that Finnian ever dared betray him, no. The super human was simply deteriorating in use; the long term consequences of countless surgeries and injections and chemicals were finally taking a toll on him. Gardening was a fruitless cover for his now lessened ability to act as the earl's guard. Now bed-ridden, the sickly Phantomhive servant lay coughing and convulsing in pain… and little could the master of the manor do but watch with a void expression, masking that of a pained look with every moan of discomfort which escaped him. Ciel had taken a moment off work to pay the other a visit, his butler setting down a tray of readied tea for the pair.
Words were exchanged, biscuits were consumed, tea was sipped.
Looking up from his teacup, the Phantomhive earl added quietly, "Thank you, Finnian. For everything."
Emerald eyes sparkled at the other's praise, a smile reaching his childish features before his vision grew blurry, body going limp. The other returned his master's words, settling into the bed for his final rest with a pained, contented expression settled upon his face. The empty teacup tumbled from his bony hands and rolled itself over the bedsheets. The tea was poisoned.
Never would Ciel admit to wishing Finnian's suffering to end. Should Sebastian inquire, he would blatantly insist that the gardener served no purpose. Not anymore.