Exsequor
Summary: "The world—and his frail little heart—suddenly stopped around him."
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. D:
A/N: Hypogonadism is the disease wherein a person looks like a child, although he/she is actually older than what he/she looks like. AND SHORT CHAPTER IS SHORT. D: Next one will be longer. XD
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No air seemed to pass through those minute nostrils, no words formed on those pale little lips—and there was certainly no movement from Sebastian's tiny arms as Ciel hugged him close to his little chest, laughter erupting from those rose-hued mounds.
"Isn't that wonderful, Sebastian!" the child had exclaimed.
And yet Sebastian did no such thing as a smile or a nod or—anything at all.
Ciel fell silent—and so did the occupants from the parlor—with all eyes trained on that pale little boy.
"Oh. Ciel."
And Sebastian hugged the cherub.
A hand was encircled around a pale one—those bony digits trembled, he mused—and Sebastian quivered when he made a mistake of accidentally meeting his painful (and temporarily blind) red eyes with pleading blue ones. At least, he thought his eyes were on Ciel's.
Oh, Ciel.
"Aren't you happy?" the boy had asked, and the child with the scorching orbs of blood bit his lip, swallowing his answer as he closed his blinded eyes shut. He ignored Ciel's question.
Oh, Ciel.
"I thought you'd be happy!" the nine-year old had quipped as soon as he saw an apathetic face on his friend. And those words struck a chord to the pale cherub's fragile mind, Sebastian's chin quivered—no, don't do it for me—and with a rather uncharacteristic display of changing moods, he shoved Ciel away from his warm arm—enough to make the little boy stumble to the plush red carpet. He bolted away from the now teary-eyed porcelain doll.
With a grunt—and a blind pair of eyes that graced the carpet and Ciel's shoes instead of Ciel himself—he ran away, not caring for his lack of sight and for the harsh words that came from Grell's mouth as he knelt beside the fallen child ("You cruel man, you made him cry!"), all the while whispering words of comfort as he patted the boy's shoulders awkwardly.
He rushed to a corner, following his instincts and his memory of the house, and his feet sped to a halt, but not before hearing a muffled crash of glass to the ground. He assumed it was the newly-bought Roman vase that Mister Vincent had so painstakingly tried to find once again. He'd have to apologize to the man later on.
Ciel almost cried at the retreating figure.
And Sebastian was certain he heard a heart-wrenching wail.
Hiccup. Hiccup.
A squirrel tilted its head—all the while holding its favorite treat, the acorn—as it scrutinized a ball of black and borderly pale white mess behind the shrub of red roses. The mess of black and pale white stared at the furry critter—at least he tried to, seeing as he's blind, it would no use at all, he mused; and as he bit his lip from the pain he encountered with a thorny rose a few minutes ago—he can't help but recall the heartbreaking cry of his one and only friend.
He could imagine what Ciel must have looked like when he shoved him. Oh, how cruel! He could easily imagine those blue doe eyes being filled with painful tears, those cream-hued cheeks must have turned blotchy and red, and he must have bitten his lip in an attempt to hold back a single whimper; those little hands that clung to him would clench and would try to wrinkle anything that he had closest to him (in Ciel's case, it must have been the carpet). And what and what about what he must have looked liked when he actually cried? That cherry mouth must have been wide open—that strawberry tongue at the back of his throat—as he let his pleas and cries be heard.
Oh, how painful.
He cupped his hands to his face as he sobbed for him and his friend, the scrutinizing squirrel now forgotten. It was painful just trying to think about it! And with the way he had pushed Ciel, he must have gotten a bruise somewhere! And he swore to protect Ciel, too! But what am I doing? Pushing him away and making him cry? Oh, Ciel…
"…I'm sorry…"
"You're forgiven."
And a pair of red eyes and cheeks whipped to the hush of the sound, and had he not been blind, he would have seen Ciel with a marred lip (he bit it too much and it bled) and a tear-stained face.
It was five o'clock when he had found Sebastian behind the shrubbery of red roses, sobbing just as hard as he was, and Ciel couldn't help but to run to him and enclose him in his arms. No matter how many cruel things he do to him, the blue-eyed doll could never give way of disliking him even for the slightest bit.
And the bawling raven held him close.
"Oh, Sebastian…"
Silent words draped them close, lost in the song of the hushing blow of the wind and of the dance of the trees.
Ciel had kissed his forehead then—soft and moist from sweat due to running—and whispered the three words that he cherished so well.
"I love Sebastian."
"…Oh, Ciel!"
The two of them reconciled that night in Ciel's bedroom (William was kind enough to let Tabitha stay in the room for once), bathed in warm arms and a canopy of lush blankets.
I accept your offer.
The Phantomhive couple and Charles made an appointment with Dr. Greis after hearing the affirmative response from Sebastian. Madam Red volunteered herself to help the boy—to which the German doctor approved—two heads are better than one, he said. It will be two weeks from today; it would be when he and Angelina had no appointments on the said date.
Needless to say, the Phantomhive child was estatic.
He wasted no time in catching up and excelling in his studies to help Sebastian after school—the poor boy was insistent that he should come to school with Ciel, even if he was blind. So to make up for his time alone in the clinic with no one but Wendy to talk to (when the girl was sober), he thought of Ciel, of things that he should be doing during class, he thought of fields of flowers and of tree barks that he would carve their initials on once he can see again, and he thought of Tabitha. So many things but so little time!
As he was thinking of flower wreaths and the smell of the rain, in came Ciel bouncing along and tackling him on the bed.
"I missed you!" he had exclaimed, and Sebastian replied with a kiss to his cheek.
"Guess what, guess what!" Oh, here he was again, that voice that made Sebastian tingle with glee, oh, if only he could see what Ciel looked like right now!
"What?" he smiled as he stroke Ciel's hair away from his face, the little boy had never let go of him the moment he entered the room.
"These three have agreed to help me to teach you!"
"Who?" He tried to heighten his senses for any footsteps, and certainly, there were three distinctive footfalls in the clinic, and another sound of steps that was certainly Missus Wendy's (Madam Red had told him about her condition, hypogonadism, a concept that he can understand more than when she had told Ciel).
"Hello, Sebastian!"
And the boy's response was a short, "Oh."
Ciel beamed and pecked his cheek—oblivious to the girl almost squealing with glee while hugging the blonde boy to death—"You know their voices, right?"
"Let me guess. Bardroy, Maylene and Finnian."
"Call me Bard, I hate being called by my full name."
And by some twisted thread of fate, they all ended up huddled together, teaching subjects that Sebastian had missed for the past weeks.
Until he realized, he had developed new friends.
Now, if only he can kiss Ciel and thank him for what he did…
"Are you ready, Sebastian?"
The boy's answer was a shy but firm nod as he clutched to his brother's hand for dear young life, and Charles couldn't help but to smile and frown at the same time. The fact that he couldn't even help his little brother drove him near to insanity—that, and having to know that it will be his classmate and (only) friend who would donate his eye, a deed that Charles would do in a heartbeat if it weren't for a certain presence who loathed his adorable little brother with all her heart.
"That boy had caused you nothing but trouble and pain! Leave him and come back, Charles!"
Such painful words!
"Brother?"
It was that lone word that stopped his train of thought, "Yes, Sebastian?" The boy beamed as his eyes landed at the wall behind him, failing to glance themselves on Charles' curious face, "Please lean close."
"What?"
Sebastian then pouted, "Just do it, brother." And he did just as his little brother had requested, and just as he was about to question the boy's motives, he felt a peck on his nose.
"Thank you for taking care of me."
A palm that rested on his mouth was all he could do to prevent himself from bawling in front of the boy; no, he would never let his brother hear him cry. It was not needed at this moment.
"Don't mention it, Mini Seba," was all he could say (choke out) as Dr. Greis led Sebastian to the ICU—nodding and smiling as Charles waved and told him to be nice to the doctors and nurses so he could see again. Th boy could only smile as he closed his eyes and listened intently to the squeaking of the stretcher and to Dr. Greis' voice of comfort.
He'll see Ciel soon. He was sure of it.
…After all, he was just waiting on the other side of the room, waiting, excited and nervous just as he was.
Oh, Ciel.
He could hear the sound of Ciel's tiny voice as the doors swung open, he had been talking to a nurse about the importance of drinking tea while taking a bath.
Sebastian smiled as he heard the nurse fumble and laugh—only Ciel can make nayone melt with his charms. And the raven claimed him as his.
"Sebastian!"
I owe you my life, Ciel.