Note: I'm back! Sorry it look longer than I hoped to get this fic up. I have been without internet at the house, so I had to make a trip to Starbucks to make use of theirs. lol.

This chapter is short. I have officially outlined everything into ten chapters. So I'll be keeping rather strictly to that. Which means chapter lengths will vary. The next chapter should be significantly longer.

Lastly, I'm not one hundred percent happy with all of this. I'll let all of you be the final judge on this chapter's success. I'm hope to finally be moving into some of the darker and more psychological aspects of this come next chapter.

Enjoy!

2.

The stagnant smell of disinfectant and the chime of machines welcomes Ciel back into the waking world. It's as if he is coming from one dream and into another. His mind is a haze of blood, violence, and power. Pain is what signals reality. The hard throb radiates through Ciel's shoulder and tears a gasp from his throat.

Blue eyes blink open to the afternoon sun and clinical white ceilings. Ciel tries to calm his panicked heart; his breaths coming out in ragged puffs. Suddenly he is ten again, alone and so very small. He hears the laughing, the jeering. He sees blood, and he feels the overwhelming loss. Ciel feels the choking hold of powerlessness. It eats away at him, bit by bit. Until there is nothing left but emptiness.

He reaches out, grasping for anything in this dismal darkness. Slender fingers wrap around cold metal and the weight of a gun burns away the weakness. Power floods Ciel, pooling in his stomach and warming his muscles. The cool white of the ceiling morphs and swims into the vision of a kitchen where a body slumps, bloody and broken. Looking down at Claude's dead form, Ciel smiles and his body eases down from its panic.

One, two, and three breaths later and Ciel is back in the hospital, the smell of disinfectant stinging at his nose. A firm hand grips at Ciel's shoulder and pushes him back to lay against his pillows. The action startles Ciel, unknowing of anyone else having been in the room. Wide eyes take in Sebastian, clean cut in a fine chocolate Glen Check suit.

"I apologize," he says, voice smooth and rich. "I didn't mean to surprise you."

It struck Ciel as odd, in that moment, for Sebastian to be apologizing. The man shouldn't be here, let alone apologizing for something so irrelevant to the true issue of the matter. Ciel feels violated in such a way he cannot bring to words; Sebastian an unknowing voyeur to Ciel's trauma.

"You didn't." It is a vain attempt to brush the situation off on Ciel's part, but he tries nonetheless.

Sebastian says nothing to contradict.

"What… What brings you here?" It's not the obvious question, and not the one bouncing around Ciel's head. Yet, it is the one he verbalizes.

The improvised question does not go unnoticed by Sebastian. A quirk of the lips is the only thing that gives him away. He leans back, away from the bed, giving Ciel some space before answering the true question on the table. "You've been unconscious for three days Ciel. The bullet was a clean shot, in an out, through your left shoulder. It'll be tender for a bit, but no lasting damage. Granted some physical therapy will no doubt be needed."

"I'm wondering what ever happened to patient-doctor confidentiality?" Ciel clips.

Sebastian shifts, his elbows placed upon his knees, hands clasped together. "I assure you that your doctor revealed nothing of the sort to me. I merely assessed as much from what I have seen of your condition."

This peaks Ciel's interest. "Rather knowledgeable in medicine for a psychologist, Dr. Michaelis."

"Sebastian," Sebastian corrects.

"Dr. Michaelis."

Giving up for now, Sebastian just smiles. "If you must know, I was a surgeon."

"Was?"

"Was." That seems to be the extent Sebastian will reveal, and Ciel does not push. It's none of his business and he really does not care. They drift into silence, Ciel digesting information he never asked for, his original question going unanswered. What difference does it really make why Sebastian is here? He was with Ciel at the scene. He was there when Ciel got shot.

A nurse came in then, all smiles and good nature. "You're up!" She fiddled around with Ciel's vitals, and gave a very similar run through that Sebastian had given only moments prior. "You'll be ready to leave in a few days," she says, and then turns to look at Sebastian. "You'll be able to take him home; keep him company there. He'll need some TLC."

Ciel blushes, scrambling for words. He isn't sure what the nurse is insinuating, only that this isn't the first time Sebastian has come to visit. Ciel isn't sure what that says about anything.

"I assure you, I plan to do just that." Sebastian smiles and watches as the nurse finishes and leaves the room with the promise of the doctor seeing to Ciel shortly.

Nothing really makes much sense in this moment, and Ciel wonders if he has misread the entire situation. The care Sebastian is revealing to Ciel bypasses anything general. It might even bypass friendly care. It leaves Ciel feeling unsure of how to process the information.

"You don't owe me anything," Ciel finally says. He can't think of any other reason for Sebastian's behavior.

"No, of course not, but you are an individual who has entrusted me with their care."

Ciel frowns. "You've known me… known the conscious me, for only a couple of hours."

If this bit of news seems to disused Sebastian's intentions, whatever they may be, he does not show it. Instead, he leans down and retrieves a bag that has gone unnoticed on the floor. From it he pulls two tubberware containers and places them on Ciel's bedside table.

The containers show to house a magenta like soupy cream, topped with what looks to be thinly sliced meat. "Borscht," Sebastian explains upon seeing Ciel's look. "I made it on the off chance you awoke today. It's a Lithuanian dish of beet juice, sour cream, and yogurt… With veal as a garnish."

A spoon and a plastic container of the soup is handed off to Ciel. He takes it with no fuss, his stomach feeling particularly empty. Slowly Ciel takes a sip, keeping mind not to jostle his bad arm. It's surprisingly salty, sweet and cold. He says as much and watches as Sebastian smiles.

"It's traditionally served cold." Sebastian is taking a sip of his own, watching Ciel out of the corner of his eye.

The soup is good, even if Ciel is unused to cold soup. He's had gazpacho once, but can't say he had been a fan. This though, Ciel likes. He thinks to question if Sebastian made it, but thinks better of it. He can tell by the intent interest Sebastian showers upon him as he bites into the veal, savoring the taste. The little smile curling at the corners of Sebastian's mouth tells Ciel enough. Sebastian is proud of this meal; he hopes Ciel enjoys the fruit of his labor. The soup is exquisite, but Ciel reigns in his delight. He can't give too much away to this man, even if it's just on childish principle.

Tanaka comes in the next day. He enters the room, and sits in the chair Sebastian had occupied just the day before. It's no surprise, Tanaka is always all business. He offers no well wishes, just a stern nod when he assess that Ciel is on the mends.

"I've brought the file of Claude Faustus," Tanaka says after a moment. Ciel stays quiet, unsure as to why such a thing could be relevant at this point. "Thought you would like to put this case to rest."

The file is placed on the bed. Ciel doesn't reach for it.

"Dr. Michaelis seems to have taken a liking to you. The nurses can't seem to talk of much else."

"Another psychologist eager to get into my head," Ciel says. He tries not to let the bitterness sully his voice. It is the only assumption he can make. Sebastian would not be the first shrink to try underhanded methods of getting their hands on his brain. When he was young, it was about being the doctor to make the break through; when his talents in imagination became known, they scrambled to get a glimpse of the inner cogs and gears. Ciel has no stomach for any of it.

"He's trying to help," Tanaka reasons.

Ciel can laugh at that. "Me… Or himself?"

The topic is dropped as soon as it surfaced. Tanaka stands and points to the folder. "Take a look. I'll be back for that tomorrow." Then, as an afterthought. "Get better." Like a ghost, he is spirited away as quickly as he came.

Alone in his room, Ciel eyes the file. He is unsure if he even wants to know. Claude Faustus feels like a demon, a dark secret lurking in the back of Ciel's mind. He has possessed Ciel, pushing towards an end Ciel is unwilling to acknowledge. Still, his fingers itch to grab the file, to delve deeper into who this man was.

Not one to curb his appetite, Ciel grabs for the file and flips it open. The majority of the information is moot or already known. One thing that stands out is Claude's education. The man apparently had a short tryst, in 2002, with the idea of medical school at Stanford. He transferred after one and a half years, deciding to resume his studies at the University of Chicago.

Whatever he hopes to find is absent from the file. Ciel feels no closure. If anything Claude is made all the more real, no longer the apparition he shot and killed in the kitchen. The image is seared into his mind. Milk dead eyes stare back, a contrast from the brilliant crimson of blood flowing and drowning them all.

And there, whispered from the tip of his tongue, Ciel hears Claude's last words. "It's not fair… You're the same." A swell of defensive wrath wells up in the pit of Ciel's stomach. No, he wants to scream. We are nothing alike. Yet the thrill of knowing he has taken a life sits coiled heavy and deep within him. It's a wonderful little dirty secret. Something to cherish and cultivate with a fondness. Ciel never wants this feeling to end, and he feels all the sicker for it.

The file closes with a snap, and he tosses it to the bottom of the bed. It will lay there, ignored, until Tanaka comes to collect it in the morning.

Sebastian visits an hour after Tanaka leaves the next day. He's weighted down with a cooler. As always, he is dressed to the nine in a three piece suit, navy pinstriped this time around. The crimson tie reminds Ciel of blood; he looks away quickly.

"Thought you would be hungry," Sebastian announces, taking out multiple containers.

Ciel snorts. "The way to my heart isn't through my stomach."

"Then I must reevaluate my tactics." Sebastian is probably teasing, probably. There isn't a telltale sign to give reason for Ciel to believe anything, one way or another.

Deciding to be blunt, Ciel just throws the issue out there. "No matter how delicious the food you throw at me is, I'm not going to be any more amiable about you digging into my head. Nothing you do will make me complacent to it."

The intended reaction is not what Ciel receives. Sebastian laughs, a deep throated chuckle. "Is that what you think of me?"

Ciel's silence is answer enough.

"I promise you Ciel that is not my intention. True, you interest me, but I see value in you past mere study. I've enjoyed our talks thus far." Sebastian passes off a container or some type of noodles and what might be chicken. It looks far fancier than anything simple.

"You've come to this realization within this short of time?" Ciel seems rather dubious. He takes a bite of food, savoring the flavor. It would be easy to get used to Sebastian's cooking. "If you've come to appreciate me as a person, Dr. Michaelis, please feel free to return the favor. Tell me about yourself, so that I might appreciate you."

"Sebastian," Sebastian corrects. "I'm not that interesting of a man."

Ciel smiles. "I highly doubt that."

The smile is returned and Sebastian relents. "I don't find myself particularly interesting. I have a particular fondness for the arts, and indulge in many of them."

"The culinary?"

"Yes," Sebastian chuckles. "The culinary, which, might I say, you seem to enjoy."

There is no deny it, and Ciel does not try. He took another bite, finding the chicken juicy and tender. It houses a flavor Ciel is not used to experiencing with poultry. "I do."

Sebastian seems to preen at that. "I'm glad. You'll have to allow me to have you for dinner. I'll cook you a proper meal. Unfortunately I can only prepare simplistic meals for the go."

"I wouldn't call this simplistic. It's chicken?" A chunk of meat is impaled on Ciel's fork and waved about.

"Pheasant," Sebastian says.

Ciel shrugs it off. It's all the same to him. When it comes down to it, all that matters is the taste. Anything can be eaten so long as it tastes good. That has been Ciel's philosophy on food. He tells Sebastian this, and is rewarded with bright eyes and a toothed smile.

In that moment, Ciel decides that, yes, Sebastian is interesting, despite all the reservations he has about the man. "However did you learn to cook? Culinary school? I don't believe this can be self-taught."

"No, indeed it can't. Although I never attended schooling for it, I did put it to practice during my time in medical school. When you see what processed food does to one's body, you tend to take the time to prepare what you put into your body." Sebastian took a bite of noodle and meat, humming at the flavor.

"I can imagine." Ciel is vaguely reminded of Claude, with the idea of medical school. To think that two men could pursue a career and turn out so different. Sebastian doesn't seem the type for violence. The man is too proper to get his hands dirty. "You quit though… being a doctor."

"I did," Sebastian is cautious with his words. "Didn't have the stomach for it."

There is no need to elaborate, Ciel understands. The stress involved alone would be enough to keep Ciel away from the field. The food is soon finished and Sebastian packs up the containers. It's getting late already and Ciel feels distinctly distraught over knowing he will soon be alone. Ciel can't put a finger on why or why it might make him feel uneasy. Instead he watches as Sebastian stands and brushes off his trousers.

"I'll be leaving on Thursday," he says. That's three days from now. Sebastian stops and eyes Ciel. There is no smile, and the look feels particularly assessing. Whatever Sebastian is looking for, he must find. A moment later he is walking towards Ciel's bed and patting his knee. It's a friendly gesture, one that does not seem out of place.

"I have no appointments planned, if needed I wouldn't mind escorting you home."

Ciel isn't sure he expects the offer, or that he is fishing for it. Regardless he feels pleased and nods his consent. There is something entirely pleasing about Sebastian, Ciel just can't put his finger on it. Everything about the man feels normal, and perhaps, that is exactly it. It's the eyes that give it away. Sebastian's garnet eyes, so deep and dark, reflect nothing but understanding. Sebastian understands Ciel. It's not a look Ciel is used to getting.

To Sebastian, Ciel is just Ciel. A normal man, albeit with an interesting set of traits. But Sebastian has admitted to the interest he houses for Ciel. An interest, Ciel wants to hope, is for him as a whole and not exclusive to his mind.

Nothing can be known for sure, but as Sebastian gives his farewell, Ciel can only hope that the good doctor proves sincere. Only time will tell.

To Be Continued . . .

Note: The next chapter will have a bit of a time jump and will be much longer. As I said, this chapter feels more like a build up for what is to come in regards to Sebastian and Ciel's relationship. When we see them next time, Ciel will be free of many of the reservations he's had for Sebastian.

I'm also worried I'm moving this along too fast. It's been far too long since I've tackled a multichaper fic on my own! Collabs have spoiled me. So please let me know if I need to slow down any aspect of this fics progression.

Lastly, you can follow me on Tumblr for updates regarding this fic and my writing. My username is akiruchan, look me up.