Chapter 12: Shattered to Pieces
I couldn't bring myself to listen to half of my history lesson. I had other things on my mind. My teacher was talking about the ancient Greeks; that's all I needed to know. What I wanted to know was what was going on at the mental hospital. It'd been a week since I was sent back home and I was still waiting for a call. What was going on over there? How was Sebastian doing? Was he okay? Was he already back with his own family? Had he been cured?
This is what I hated. Not knowing; not knowing what would happen or what was going to happen. I hated being kept out of the loop.
"Ciel? Are you listening?"
The voice of my teacher brought me back to the lesson, much to my annoyance.
"Yes, yes I am."
"Alright, then what did I just say?"
She was good. Always testing me when she knew I wasn't completely listening to her.
"Um . . ."
I figured I was in for a serious scolding when suddenly there was a knock on the door to the study and Tanaka strode it.
"Pardon the interruption," he said with a bow, "But we've just received a phone call from the London Mental Hospital."
I was out of my seat in a heartbeat and I rushed over to him, "Did they say anything about Sebastian?"
"They did not," Tanaka said, "There was an excited fellow on the line that said he wanted to speak with you directly."
Lessons were over. I instantly rushed to a room where the phone was kept and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Hello? Ciel?"
I instantly recognized the voice. It was Alois. He sounded as if he were in a panic. Somehow I knew. I knew something was wrong, and I knew that it had to do with Sebastian.
"Alois, what's going on?" I asked, "What's wrong?"
"So much," Alois said panting, "So much is wrong here. Dr. Undertaker slipped Patient 666 into electroshock therapy without anyone knowing and so many different medicines were injected into him . . . Ciel, it's bad."
I felt so many emotions rising; none of them good. I was angry, sad, scared, confused, and—above all—panicked.
"Tell me Sebastian hasn't slipped into Stage 5 of his illness," I begged him, "He couldn't have . . ."
"It's worse than that, Ciel," Alois stated.
"Worse?"
"It's so bad, we don't even know if there's a Stage to classify him in!"
"What about Grell and William? What happen to Undertaker?"
Alois laughed, "Undertaker's lost his bloody mind! He's not a doctor anymore, he's a patient. Grell and William are working with Sebastian, but they know that they won't get anywhere. Honestly, Ciel, if there's anyone who might be able to cure Sebastian all over again, it's you, because at this point, none of us know what the hell we're doing."
I rushed to the hospital, urging the cab driver to push his horse faster and faster in hopes to get there sooner. Tanaka came with me. If he still wanted to see Sebastian, no matter what mental state Undertaker had left him in, now would be a really good opportunity to let him see him.
Of course, I did fear what I'd see when I faced Sebastian again. If he was back in a straightjacket and a muzzle, I'd be very disappointed, especially after all the work I put into un-muzzling him, getting him out of the straightjacket, and getting him to talk out his thoughts and problems. What if what Undertaker had done erased all of that? What if he was beyond being cured, now? What Alois had told me haunted my thoughts.
'It's so bad, we don't even know if there's a Stage to classify him in!'
What did that mean? Was it possible that Sebastian's condition had worsened further than a Stage 5 state? Was it possible for him to be classified as a Stage 6?
I was in my own panic! And of all the people I could have blamed for it—Undertaker, William, and maybe even Grell—I blamed myself. I blamed myself for leaving. There had to have been something I could have done at the hospital to keep my position as a nurse, and the moment I was sent off I simply went with what everyone was saying.
And then, suddenly, Undertaker's words hit me.
'We believe that your assistance in his recovery is no longer needed.'
At that moment, my mind was able to translate it.
"I believe that your assistance in his recovery is no longer needed . . . nor wanted."
Somehow, I just knew Undertaker had planned this. For what reason, I had no idea. Maybe he hated Sebastian, or maybe he just did it for his own entertainment, I don't know. What I did know, for sure, was that I wouldn't let Sebastian live out his days locked away in an asylum without a fight.
