A Birthday to Forget

The night was solemn, the sky a veil of black. There was not a cloud, nor a moon, nor even a star. All was still. Not a breeze whispered, nor did a tree shiver. The somber fortress of a mansion that arose from the ground like the living-dead did not speak at all, nor did it even groan. It too had been silenced by the darkness, or perhaps by the overwhelming heartbreak that billowed out from its insides; maybe it feared that making a sound might cause those that thrived within its walls to shatter. But really, could buildings fear? Could buildings think at all?

This is what Ciel was pondering as he sat hunched mournfully over the window that resided within his bedroom, gazing through the fogged glass at the murky world beyond with eyes long since lost in despairing thought. He wasn't really 'observing' the view; there wasn't a view to see. His sight swam with other visions, other images, other memories. With time, they'd lost a majority of their colour, but despite it all, one hue just never seemed to fade; red, like his deceased Aunt's shimmering eyes, like the blood that he could never clean from his hands.

Today had been his birthday; he was now officially fourteen years of age. It was supposed to be a time of celebration, and those around him had strived with all their might to make it so. But he could not see the cheer in it at all, not when the horror felt so real in his mind that he could've reached out and grabbed it with his bare hands.

All day, Ciel had not been able to breathe. It was as though he'd forgotten how. Monstrous fists had been pressing down upon his lungs, squeezing all the life out of him. Even now, it seemed impossible.

He gripped the windowsill with all the vigour that he possessed in his small, frail body, his knuckles white with his desperation, his shoulders shaking with the effort. He felt like he would faint if he just so happened to let go, and he certainly did not want to faint. That kind of act was undignified of a man, but internally, he couldn't care less about dignity; he was frightened of the nightmares that would follow him if he dared falter for even a moment.

And like a bloodhound that sought out the panicked stench of prey in the air, Ciel felt rather than saw his demon approach from behind, his branded eye searing dully with the butler's close proximity, the opposing figure making his veins run colder than they already were. When the butler's icy breath feathered along his sweat-slicked neck, Ciel cringed.

"What is it, My Lord?" Sebastian hummed in a tone laced with velvet. It might have been comforting, if the stony notes behind it hadn't been so void of feeling, and if Ciel hadn't of known what the demon really cared for.

"J-just leave me alone, Sebastian," Ciel snarled lowly in a voice that quivered with his petrified body. If only his body didn't betray him so. "Y-you are n-not needed."

A cool, gloveless hand snaked up and cupped Ciel's forehead, holding it steady. Ciel was reeling so much that he did not have the strength to pull away.

"Oh my, you feel a bit warm, Master. Are you certain that you are well?"

No, he was not certain. In all honesty, Ciel felt absolutely wretched. His head was spinning with recollections that made him dizzier by the second, his heart was a mess of emotions that he so wished to express but could not for fear of utter humiliation, and his stomach was churning so much that he was becoming increasingly weary of the slice of chocolate cake that just didn't want to settle. But he could not bear to tell Sebastian all this, to let the demon in on such weaknesses, even despite the fact that he was possibly already very much aware.

And yet, his body seemed ready to betray him yet again. For when he rounded on the demon, very much ready to order him away, Ciel's legs buckled almost instantly, and when his knees hit the floor with a resounding thud, his abdomen contracted, as though a hook had abruptly curled around it, and he gagged, bile spilling from his lips and splaying across the rug beneath with a horrible watery splat.

"My Lord!" The cry was distant, as though heard through a tunnel, but the hands that clutched him felt all so near, possibly because they were, but Ciel was far to disoriented to be logical at that point.

Arms circled him and dragged him away from the floor. For an eternity, he felt as though he was flying, all hazy and cold, his breathing haggard, but as too why, he could not remember. It wasn't until he was placed in warm, doughy sheets that it all began to come back to him. Glints of silver. Raw screams. Eyes of the mad. Rivers of blood...

He immediately began to thrash, trying to sit up, trying to get free. In his feeble state, his little kicks and flails were nothing more than ripples on still water, but in his mind, it didn't matter. He couldn't let himself sleep, regardless of how he might've wanted to. At least in waking, he could somehow have a grasp on his terror, but asleep, he could do nothing but watch it ravish him over and over again.

"Please, Master!" a voice tried to reason. "You must rest. You are not well..."

Unfortunately, Ciel was far passed the point of reason.

"No!" he wailed, the cry rattling his own skull. He knew he was being childish, and that tomorrow, he would very much regret his actions. But for tonight, he simply couldn't stand to be in control for a moment longer. "Don't make me sleep! Please, don't make me! Just don't..."

The fingers loosened upon him, and an unnervingly gentle octave hushed him, but it was the only comfort he had, and he clung to it without hesitation. He could almost convince himself that it was his father; it sounded so oddly like him that it could have very well been...

"Alright, my Lord. Alright. Just please, do calm down..."

Ciel earnestly pawed the air until he found what he was searching for - skin, contact, touch. And once he found it, he could only whimper, "Stay with me..."

"Of course, my Lord..."

Beneath it all, he knew that the one he was reaching out to was not his father, but a wolf in sheep's clothing. But for those long hours that he lay there, feverish and wavering, he did not want to believe in anything else. For otherwise, he would surely go insane...

And for the whole night, not once did he feel that demon of his - regardless if he was his father or not - leave his side...

XXX

When the golden lights of dawn seared through the unsheathed window the next morning, Ciel was feeling so poorly and exhausted that he could've easily curled up in the blankets and fallen unconscious without a struggle. But he knew that he could not do that. He remembered this day ahead to be a busy one, and besides; tiredness was the price of his foolishness.

With movement that was slow and painful, Ciel arose slightly from the mattress and hefted himself back against the pillows with a tedious sigh. He craned his head to peer at the rug he'd soiled the night before; there was not a stain on it. It was as if nothing had ever come to defile it in the first place, and Ciel might've even let himself believe that the last night's events were merely a dream if the bitter stench of vomit was not still caught in his nose and the stale taste of it had not lingered upon his tongue. It made his lips curl in disgust.

The evening's events were very distorted in his mind - it was difficult to tell the difference between what had been factual and what had been fictional - but he remembered the little things, the things that made him wither with melancholy. He wished to hide himself away just as badly as he wished to sleep, but he knew that he could not do that either. He was not a child anymore, despite how last night's actions may have proved otherwise.

"How are you feeling this morning, my Lord?"

The monotonous voice startled Ciel for a moment, for he'd forgotten that he was not alone in the room. Turning his gaze to his right, he found Sebastian, in all his porcelain and ebony, still kneeling by the side of his bed, his eyes piercing him like two chips of rust.

Ciel stammered at the question, his ears glowing a rueful scarlet. However, after taking a second to clear his raw throat, he murmured with all the vanity he could muster in his compromised position, "I am better, Sebastian."

"That is good to hear, Master," Sebastian replied, standing, his gaze never wavering. "Shall I prepare some tea? Peppermint, perhaps?"

Ciel raised a hand, halting the butler in his tracks. "Before that, I have something that I would like to say." He paused, swallowing harshly, his eyes squeezing shut, as though steeling himself. Sucking in a quavering breath, he continued. "I must apologise for my actions last night. It appears that I have relapsed slightly, but I was simply being foolish. It is improper of a Master to display such weakness before his servants. I intend to not allow it to happen again."

At first, silence only comprehended his words, and when Ciel opened his eyes, he was not expecting to find Sebastian bowing low before him, his claret stare still fixed upon him, an intangible glint to it that Ciel could not fathom.

"There is no need for you to apologise, my Lord. Relapses are bound to happen. And besides, perhaps the incident could have been avoided if I'd payed more mind to your condition sooner. It is I who should apologise."

Ciel could only nod, allowing the demon's speech to restore his dignity to some degree. "Than you are forgiven. Now, as for tea, peppermint will do well. And make it extra sweet."

Sebastian could only grin cooly as he straightened. "Certainly, my Lord. Right away..."

XXX

Hey guys!

I hope you liked this. It's a birthday present for Ciel, although quite a sad one. I don't think it ever could be remotely happy, especially after reading that latest chapter of the manga. Black Butler has made me cry before, but has never made me ball my eyes out as much as that last chapter did. I don't think the reality of it really hits you until you see the details of it. The devil is in the details after all.

Make sure to review, and as always, thanks so much for reading!

HeartElyse