Chapter 11
Sebastian doesn't switch on the telly the next day. He doesn't read the newspapers and he tunes out the people around him. The people being decidedly nervous, the frowning faces of female teenagers, all the radio stations playing Claude's songs… They tell him enough.
Nobody in the hospital treats him any differently. Sebastian finds himself glad that nobody knew that Claude Faustus had a brother.
"Why are you making such a long face?" Anne asks during lunch break, her index finger attempting to smooth out the lines on Sebastian's forehead. "Don't tell me you're a Faustus fan. You don't look the part."
Sebastian huffs and shakes his head. "I'm not."
"Trouble in your love life then? Tell Madame Red everything."
"That's not it." Sebastian smiles at her and all it does is make Anne frown.
"That kid of yours in trouble?"
"Not that I know of. And he's my nephew."
Anne goes quiet after that. Sebastian barely feels sorry for making her uncomfortable, but he didn't ask for her advice in the first place.
OOO
Sebastian finds white feathers lying around two days later. Ciel hasn't shown himself since then, moping around in his bedroom, only coming out to wordlessly shove down the food that Sebastian cooks at the end of the day. Something must be bothering him, but it hasn't occurred to Sebastian that it could be that grave. These feathers are Ciel's, aren't they?
He enters the demon's room without knocking.
Ciel is sitting on the bed with his knees drawn against his chest. He is staring out the window while resting his chin on his knees.
Sebastian closes the door behind him and slowly approaches the demon. Ciel doesn't acknowledge his presence. These days it's hard to say whether it's an invitation or not.
"Are these yours?" Sebastian asks quietly, presenting Ciel with the white feathers.
The demon chances one single look at them before averting his eyes. "Unfortunately."
"They're white."
Ciel would have rolled his eyes on any other day, but not now. Instead he sighs. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Are you now," Sebastian murmurs.
"Go away."
Sebastian frowns. "Why?"
Ciel looks him square in the eye. "I don't want to see you."
"Yes, but why?"
Ciel's eyes narrow. He snatches the feathers from Sebastian's hand so quickly that they're gone before the doctor can blink. "This is all your fault!"
Sebastian leans away as Ciel pretty much shoves the feathers into his face. His hands grab Ciel's wrists. "How can this – whatever it is – be my fault when I didn't even do anything?!"
"Because I like you!" Ciel almost screeches, looking decidedly unhappy about it.
For a long time, there is silence.
Ciel yanks his arms away, and Sebastian lets him go. "I've grown fond of you, somehow," Ciel mutters. "And this is the result." He lets the feathers sail to the floor. Sebastian follows their descent.
Sebastian is still too stunned to speak. He clears his throat at least twice before he can find his voice. "I wasn't aware."
Ciel shoots him a dirty look. "My mother told me not to form a contract with you, especially not if it's on time. And here I am, stuck in a contract on time. On top of that you tricked me! I regret it with every fibre of my being. And I should hate you for your stupid trick but I don't, because I'm a demon and you stood up to me and of course all I will feel for that is respect!" Ciel wipes a hand over his face, angry.
Sebastian looks at his own hands, and then at the feathers to his feet. "Break the contract."
Ciel grumbles. "I won't. It's for your protection, you idiot."
The doctor sighs and goes on one knee in front of the demon. Ciel eyes him distrustfully, but all Sebastian does is put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Ciel doesn't exactly seem to like it, but he bears it, and if he leans into the touch a bit, then nobody mentions it.
"I think I can manage."
"No!" Ciel says. "No, you cannot. There's so many demons roaming the streets. You need the protection."
"You don't want my soul anymore?" Sebastian asks.
"I don't know," Ciel replies quietly. "My very nature is changing. I have no idea what I want anymore."
Sebastian remembers the conversation with Undertaker and blinks. "What are you changing into?"
He doesn't exactly expect an answer, so he doesn't mind when Ciel shrugs. He feels the movement of the demon's shoulders beneath his hand.
"How can we look into it?"
"If I knew I'd have done it already."
"So you're just going to let it fester, whatever it is?"
"Nothing is festering," Ciel huffs. "And it seems so. Unless you, mortal, can come up with a better solution."
"I have one. But you won't listen. Break the contract."
"No."
Sebastian sighs. He's out of ideas.
"Get out," Ciel murmurs. As the demon stares down at his feet, an impulse overcomes Sebastian. He gets up and presses his lips against the warm, smooth skin of the boy's forehead.
"We'll find a way," he says when Ciel looks up in surprise.
The demon snorts and rolls his eyes and Sebastian leaves the room.
OOO
Ciel locks gazes with Maurice the next day.
He's strolling around London, like he always does on the weekend, but this is the first time he isn't actually looking for the blond couple. This time he's simply enjoying – or rather, taking in – the scenery. He's at Hyde Park today, and it… isn't… an ugly place.
This even hurt to think.
Ciel decides to never compliment humans and their creations again. Not even in his thoughts.
He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans and follows random paths. He thinks of sitting down but decides against it. He's feeling restless.
As he kicks a stone out of the way he sees a blond head from the corner of his eye. He actually, against better reason, expects to see Alois as he looks up. But what reason does the demon have to linger, anyway? He's killed Claude - they found the body - and now Alois has returned to Hell with a full stomach. He's probably taken a week to rest before he does whatever demons do after a hunt. Maybe he's going to stand up against some lord in order to gain his legions. Then again, Alois probably doesn't like to get his hands dirty.
In any case, it isn't Alois who Ciel sees.
The moment Maurice recognises Ciel he turns his head and looks away. Edgar is standing next to him, and as if they have a telepathic bond, he looks at Ciel, too, frowning.
Ciel cannot detect Edgar's demon scent. This can only mean two things: One, Ciel's senses are becoming weaker, or two, Edgar… isn't a demon anymore.
Ciel closes the distance between him and the couple faster than he should in public, but he doesn't care. Edgar warily takes a step back as Ciel approaches, but he doesn't seem tempted to flee.
"What are you?" Ciel hisses as he draws closer.
Edgar merely leans back a little, almost nervously so. "What am I, indeed?"
"You've gone through some sort of transformation, haven't you?" Ciel continues.
"Why would you want to know?" Edgar looks just a little distressed. "Your parents won't find a cure."
"They aren't…" Ciel cuts himself off. There's no reason to tell a stranger that his parents won't be his parents for long, no matter how young he actually is. They've probably already left him for good, his father returning to his lands, and his mother leaving Vincent to return to her own legions, however few they may be. It's a natural thing to do, but Ciel would like to stay the counsellor's son for just a bit longer. It does have an effect, after all. "How did it start? Why did it start? It's about affection, isn't it? Did you feel attached to…"He points at Maurice the moment he understands. "Are you two in a relationship?" he asks.
"Problem?" Maurice asks venomously. Edgar puts a placating hand on the younger male's shoulder.
"We are," he says after a moment. His eyes are too knowing as they scan Ciel. "It did start because of affection. I didn't want him hurt. I wanted to protect him from myself and my kind. And then I started changing."
Ciel nods. "What did you become? Are you still becoming?"
Edgar smiles, almost ruefully. "What do think I am? What do you detect?"
"My senses are becoming quite dull," Ciel says evasively.
Edgar's hand combs through Ciel's hair, almost absently. The gesture is probably supposed to be soothing, but Ciel finds that it isn't, not at all. "Try anyway."
So Ciel does. "Nothing," he says after a while. "I told you, I-"
"Exactly."
Ciel looks up at him. "What?"
"You cannot detect anything. So, what do you think I am?"
Ciel opens his mouth. And then he closes it again.
"I don't know whether it's the same for everyone," Edgar says. "But wanting to protect Maurice I became something that cannot threaten him."
"His boyfriend?"
Edgar snorts. "Yeah, that too."
Ciel regards the two of them silently. "Have you met others?"
Edgar shrugs. "How would I know?"
Something twists painfully in Ciel's chest. "I have to go."
"I'm sure you have a lot to think about," Edgar says pleasantly. "Your parents are looking in all the wrong places. There is no cure, at least none that comes from an outsider. It's all your doing. Whether you want to change for this human or not is your choice alone. If you like them and don't mind that you're changing, don't do anything." He chances a look at Maurice who stiffens as if he can guess Edgar's next words. "If you don't want to change, kill the reason of your transformation. It's that easy."
Ciel can only swallow uneasily. "Goodbye."
He can feel Edgar's and Maurice's twin gazes piercing into his back just where his wings rest between skin and muscle. Ciel walks faster until he's out of their sight. His back feels like the skin there is stretching too much. He isn't commanding his wings to do anything, but it is as if they're asking him to let them out. After having looked at them quite a lot in the last two months Ciel assumes it's just force of habit. He takes the Tube, willing it to go faster. Once he is in Sebastian's apartment he takes off his shoes and hurriedly lets them fall on the ground, earning a "hey!" from the living room area. Ciel ignores Sebastian. The doctor must have come back from tea with the neighbour. Or maybe he's been talking on the phone with Anne. Or maybe he's just been reading or going down memory lane. Claude's funeral is tomorrow, so Sebastian might go there.
Ciel feels unbelievably sorry for him.
He wonders if Sebastian would mind following his brother into the grave.
Blinking he shakes his head to clear it. He isn't Alois. He isn't going to break the contract. He doesn't even know if he still has the power to do it. After all, it's fading rapidly.
No. He won't kill Sebastian.
He sighs as he closes the bedroom door behind him, taking off his jeans jacket and throwing it on the ground. The material of his shirt tears under the pressure of his spreading wings and Ciel stretches them, feeling them brush against the roof. He looks up at the white wings. They're incredibly beautiful, but somehow, they also look… sickly. Something about them feels wrong. As soon as Ciel realises this, everything goes downhill.
His wings won't cooperate anymore. They refuse to stretch. Instead the muscles start cramping. The wings go rigid for ten worrying seconds, straining Ciel's back, before they just go limp and fall to the ground with an audible thump.
The terrible thing about this is that Ciel cannot feel the impact.
It is as if somebody cut the nerve connecting his wings to his body. As hard as Ciel tries moving them, nothing happens. They just lie there, not even twitching. Ciel can feel panic bubbling up inside him. He experimentally digs his nails into one of them, but no pain registers in his brain even as he draws blood. When he brushes his hand through the rows of feathers, the only thing that does is pluck too many feathers from the skin. Ciel quickly puts his hand in his lap, staring at the wings cradling him. He can feel their weight where they are connected to the rest of his body. Suddenly they are a hindrance instead a part of it.
The moment the thought crosses his mind his wings begin to dissolve into black smoke.
So Ciel screams. He leans over, trying to brush the smoke away, but the more he tries to, the more agitated he gets, the faster it eats away at his wings.
When Sebastian rushes into the room he finds Ciel just sitting there, staring at where his wings were. There is no weight clinging to his back anymore. There are no feathers rustling beneath his skin anymore.
His wings are gone.
