A/N: And here's the next chapter! Yay? Right? I think? I think it turned out well - I hope all of you like it as well!
Title: Young Young Master
Author: liketolaugh
Rating: T
Pairings: Slight Ciel/Elizabeth
Genre: Friendship/Drama
Warnings: Little!Ciel, slight violence
Summary: Ciel is deaged, and Sebastian finds, to his delight, that this Ciel is every bit as manipulative as his older self – even if he is a far sight happier.
Disclaimer: Sadly, Black Butler is not mine.
Ciel glanced over his shoulder, shivering at the tension stifling him from the very walls of the townhouse.
Ever since they had gotten the note, Sebastian hadn't let Ciel out of the townhouse and the stress in it was strangling him. Sure, playing inside with Elizabeth was fun, but he didn't want to be trapped in the walls anymore. He had places he wanted to go, things he wanted to do outside as well!
But, of course, Sebastian wouldn't let him. Instead, he had to sneak out now, while Sebastian was busy! He laughed nervously to himself, liking the idea but constantly absorbing the stress-tension-worry from the people in the house. He had enough of those to deal with by himself, thanks!
He poked his head out the door and then ran into the garden, already relaxing just a little bit from the open air, and smothering his own gleeful laughter.
Ciel looked around, beaming. Oh, those were the white roses he liked!
He darted over to the bush and chose an especially nice rose to give to Lizzy later. It was pretty, and it looked innocent and pure despite the vicious thorns beneath - just like her! He should probably take those off before he gave it to her, though.
He smiled when he found the tree he was looking for. He tucked the rose inside his pocket and glanced around. Of course, there wasn't anyone there. He started to climb it as high as he could, up almost to the top. And it was a very high tree. Once he had found a nice perch, he swung one leg over it and faced the end of the branch.
He paused for a moment, laying on his stomach down the branch and smiling contently down at the ground, far below.
He always liked climbing trees, especially at times like this, when stress was high. No one else knew, and he liked it that way. After all, who would understand? He was a Phantomhive - cold, perfect, untouchable. He didn't feel stress, didn't get scared, didn't need to escape because that would be weakness.
But he wasn't as perfect as a Phantomhive ought to be. He worried about his father, got frightened when he was kidnapped, scared when someone came home hurt, and when those happened, he escaped. He climbed a tree, got far away from the ground.
When he was on the ground, everything was up close, personal, right in front of him, demanding acknowledgement. It had to be dealt with, and it had to be dealt with now. There could be no mistakes, no imperfections, not a single hint of weakness. Not in front of his friends, or his servants, and most of the time, not even in front of his family. On the ground, everything, everything, was taller than him, bigger than him.
On the ground, everything was harder.
But up here, high in the tree, the world was small and distant. There was nothing to do, no responsibility, no expectations, and nothing mattered anymore. There was only the the leaves, the breeze, and the open air below. Alone with his thoughts, no need for a mask, no need for fear. No need for anything at all.
He just looked down at the ground for a while, content. But finally he sighed, smiled again, and pulled the rose back out of his pocket, absentmindedly beginning to pull away the thorns and watching them fall the the ground, far below.
In a way, everyone was a rose. Each special in their own way, some spotted with age or wear, some with holes eaten through them, damaged by insects or weather. And, like the rose, everyone had their thorns. Even 'good' people.
Bad people, people like him, people like his family, had very obvious thorns, wicked and curved and reaching out to slice through the defenseless finger that reached for the rose. Everyone knew that the thorn was there. Only a select few still reached for it. But the thorn was big, it took more pushing to slice the finger deeply enough to truly wound.
Other people were like Lizzy. The thorn was there, easily visible if you looked for it. You reach for it, and your finger will be impaled on the spike, and you didn't even expect it. Completely unexpected, the vicious thorn would bite into your finger, leaving a trail of blood dripping, showing itself to the world. Lizzy's thorns were long and hidden, but not as much as others. Those thorns were not the worst.
The worst were the good people. Good people, like Soma, like Agni, had thorns that you wouldn't see unless you inspected every inch, every nook and cranny. They would lure you in with a farce of benevolent innocence, and before you knew it, your hand was sliced wide open, flesh exposed for all to see, before your very eyes, and you never even saw it coming.
He reached toward the stem again and frowned. He ran his fingers up and down the stem. Still not finding what he was looking for, he looked down and sighed.
Of course, once the rose had lost its thorns, it really was entirely defenseless.
"Time to go," he said aloud. Having had these precious minutes to himself, he felt ready to return, at least for a while, to the suffocating, tension-filled townhouse.
Back into his pocket went the rose and he began to climb down. He focused on the townhouse, feeling for Lizzy, and made his way in that direction. Focused as he was, he didn't notice as a small figure crept up behind him, a knife clutched in their hand.
The figure took a deep, steadying, audible breath. This, however, he heard, and just as the knife began moving he spun around, eyes widening. The knife buried itself in his chest.
Ciel's mouth opened in shock. His vision began to darken as an intense burn engulfed his stomach, drawing a pain-filled scream from him, and the last thing he saw was the wide eyes of a blue-eyed brown-haired girl.
A scream ripped through the air and Sebastian straightened up abruptly. "Young Master!"
The next second, he was gone.
At the same time, Soma and Agni had heard the same scream. Soma, startled and frightened, looked at Agni with wide eyes. "Find him!"
The words were barely out of his mouth before Agni was going out the door.
Sebastian, naturally, got there first, and he was by his master's side quickly. There was another person standing over the fallen figure, someone Sebastian recognized instantly.
The figure that stood frozen over Ciel was Freckle.
She wasn't standing for long, though, as she was knocked to the ground and held there, while Sebastian instantly turn his attention to his fallen master. As soon as he saw it, he knew it was bad, very bad. Ciel needed a hospital; healing was not something he could do! He ignored the stuttering pleas below him and started to try and slow the bleeding, doing what he could.
He wanted to take Ciel to a hospital, but that would mean releasing Freckle for now, and that meant that she could try again, which was, naturally, completely unacceptable. For once, he wasn't sure what to do, panic starting to creep into his mind as he struggled to make a decision.
His thoughts were interrupted by the pounding of footsteps and he looked up.
His wide, almost desperate eyes met Agni's shocked, worried ones. A silent plea passed through the red pair and Agni's look faded into understanding. He nodded once.
Sebastian picked up Ciel and then he was gone, trusting Agni to keep Freckle from escaping.
The taking the thorns off thing? I'm not sure if any of you will question it, but I'll go ahead and assert that yes, it is possible. Maybe not with all kinds of roses, but it is possible. I know, I've done it. Anyway, so I think that was all right, if oddly metaphorical, but I really wanna know what all of you thought. So... please review!
Oh, and also, I'm still trying to work out the AF/BB thing. And the only scenario in which Artemis and Ciel are neither mortal enemies, nor attracted, is the one I thought of in which they are the same person. How sad is that? O.o
