-:- Subject 13's Butler -:-
.:A Kuroshitsuji Fan Fiction:.
Author: AoUsagi
Summary: Ciel takes the leap into Oblivion, only to wake into a strange white-washed world of beeping machines and white-coats doctors. The only thing that seems real is Sebastian, who steals him away from the hellhole laboratory to save him from the sick sake of science.
BeforeNote:
Um….hi guys. This is going to be difficult to explain.
My boyfriend? Whom I went up to the city with the other week? Well he stayed up there for the week with his stepdad in order to be able to see our sick friend in hospital and…well…
Made the overnight decision that he no longer loves me.
And broke up with me.
A lot of you are very new readers to my work, probably attracted to Subject 13's Butler because it's Kuroshitsuji and you all think it's awesome. But I know I've mentioned I love my boyfriend. I love him so much, and still do, even after he's done this and broken my heart into a million sharp little glassy pieces all over the floor.
So for those of you who are veteran readers, like the scarce few who've read My Autistic Brother, will know that when my heart breaks, it takes a long time to fix.
I want things to be okay. I want to go back to having the wonderful relationship that we had. But…but it's not going to happen. I saw him for the first time since he got home the other day, and it was really tough having to face him as he talked out all his reasons. Saying goodbye to him has been incredibly hard on me.
So while I'll tearing up over the keyboard about it, I'm going to try and distract myself by writing an update. Just for you guys. Because I can tell you lot that I love you all without feeling like I'm sharing with you a piece of my soul that is so very precious to me. Not that you're not precious to me. You are. It's just…well, when I love, I love deeply. I get far too attached, even if I try to be cautious. This is what happened with the boy I loved that broke my heart.
Anyway. Onto the update. I felt you guys should probably know that this is a hard time right now, and that while updating is great, I might or might not have the motivation to be writing for a while more after this current update.
Just so you all know.
- Mercy
…
"That which does not kill me had better run pretty damn fast."
-Me.
Chapter Thirty-Four: Death In The Family
-:-
"Aaah, shit. That's not good."
Vincent Phantomhive looked in the direction Diedrich had pointed. There was a gathering of London Metropolitan Police squaring off an area of a public park in the middle of the Central Business District. Randall and Abberline were standing by talking with several of the police officers, shading their eyes from the bright afternoon sunlight that streamed in through and around the trees.
Vincent had received the call from Randall several hours after he and Tanaka had returned from the airport earlier that morning – there had been a public gang killing in a public area; and not just any gang.
In the seat behind him, Azzuro Vanel was straining to get a better look, the Italian mobster chewing his studded lip in worry. "Aw, no. Please no. God, no."
Diedrich pulled into a nearby parking space along the road side, and immediately all three of them were unbuckling seatbelts and bolting from the car, straight to the scene of the incident. Vincent ducked under the yellow tape that stretched from tree to tree, and Randall met them there, waving away any policemen who tried to stop them.
"You should see this." Was all that he said, before leading them over to the site. On the ground, the grass was stained with blood and scuffed and dirt was kicked up where people had been struggling in a fight. A white spray can had been used to outline the places where the four victims had fallen, and off to one side, Vincent could see there were four human-shaped masses clad in body bags, one of which was being looked over by a medical examiner. Azzuro let out a strangled cry, and he broke away from the group, heading over to peer over the examiner's shoulder. They let him go, and Vincent watched as the Italian's shoulders fell, his head hanging.
While Diedrich spoke with Randall about the incident, Vincent stepped away and over to Azzuro; it was just like they'd been told. Four members of Azzuro's mob had been killed in a fight; two had died from gunshot wounds, one to the head and one to the heart, and the other two had suffered from snapped necks.
"I'm sorry."
A single tear streaked down Azzuro Vanel's face, and then he angrily scrubbed a hand over his eyes before looking at Vincent. His expression held sorrow, anger, and grief.
"They were my family."
"I know," Vincent lay a hand on his shoulder, and Azzuro chewed his lip.
"They were good men. I'm going to kill the son of a bitch who killed them."
"Yep." Vincent nodded along. "They won't have died in vain."
The two of them held the gaze with each other steady, before Diedrich stepped up beside them. The broad-shouldered German patted the Italian mobster on the back in an attempt at a comforting gesture. "These guys were four of your men who you'd had monitoring the Hospital, tryin' to track the possible bidders for this could-be auction, weren't they?"
It took Azzuro a moment, looking over each face, but he nodded. "Yes. Why? You think our investigating got them killed?"
"It might have," Vincent said. "We'd need more conclusive evidence, but it could just be a coincidence, since we've only just started looking into it this morning."
"Perhaps not." Randall said from behind them, and all three men looked to him. He had a pad out resting on a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, and he was not looking pleased. "These killings can't have just been random – they were killed elsewhere and moved to this location; set up as to attract attention. Someone's send us a warning."
Azzuro looked back over his shoulder at his dead gang members, distress clear on his features. "I won't keep sacrificing my men." He turned back and looked Vincent square in the eye. "If this is going to happen, you're going to have to find someone else to do your spy work, Phantomhive."
"I'm sorry, Azzuro – Azzuro!" Vincent called after him, but the Italian was already stalking away, phone in hand, already calling his other men to ensure they were still alive and well, and to pull them out of action. Diedrich sighed heavily, and Randall cleared his throat.
"I'll see what I can do about getting the bodies returned to his gang for a proper burial once the culprits have been caught." The inspector said gruffly, before giving the two a curt nod and moving away, heading back to the thick of the crime scene. Vincent surveyed their surroundings; the park was a perfect place for a public execution. There was blood on two trees where two of the mobsters had been pinned up to the trees like paper dolls, and the two men with snapped necks had been dumped on the public footpath, right in everyone's way.
"What should we do?" Diedrich asked quietly. Even though he was still seethingly mad at his friend for running off to Manchester without any notice, Vincent was glad that the German was here by his side. There was no one he'd rather have accompany him to something like this; someone like Diedrich was hard to find. Although he was an impatient, pushy man, the German was also a good, quick thinker – good with a gun, too.
Thinking of thinking quickly, Vincent pulled out his phone and took several photos of the bodies, taking careful measures to photograph the wounds especially. Diedrich shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around to make sure no one was going to shoo them away before Vincent was done.
"We should leave. Azzuro…" Vincent glanced over at the Italian as he straightened up, who was still talking on the phone. "He shouldn't be left out here in the open. Wait until he's finished, then get him to come back with us. I'll be right back. I need to make a phone call."
Diedrich nodded, and even after all these years of not being in contact, Vincent knew he still had his burly friends complete trust. Tucking his own phone back into his pocket, he headed over to the nearest pay-phone, which was a little walk away and just down the street from the park, slotted in a couple of coins he managed to fish out of his coat pocket, and dialled the one number he thought he'd never have to dial again. The only number that couldn't be dialled from a mobile phone – for whatever reason, Vincent had never known.
"Yeeees?"
"Undertaker?"
"Hee-hee-hee, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that was my favourite little puppy, back in London. Since international calls are so very expensive."
"Undertaker, listen – I need help. I know I said I'd never ask this of you again, that I wanted you to give it all up and –"
"Ku-ku, could it be the famous Phantom-hound needs evidence looked over? With the eyes of a…professional?"
Vincent forced himself to take a deep breath. "Where can I send you a handful of photographs?"
"There's a little shop, old friend – I think you'll find it riiiight where mine used to be…leave it on the doorstep there – Heheh – I'll surely find it."
Vincent mentally ran the location through his head – tucked away in a set of backstreets around the London equivalent of the Red Light District, there was a small parlour that reeked of death and was once occupied by coffins and tools used to embalm and prepare the dead for burial or cremation. He knew the place like the back of his hand – he'd been there enough times.
"I need to hear back from you about this as soon as possible, Undertaker."
"Teeeeeell me something, ku ku ku – are you on the trail again?"
"What?"
"Of your darling boy, of course!" the voice on the other end of the line cackled, and Ciel's sweet, innocent face flashed through Vincent's mind. In truth, he was, but right now they needed confirmation as to the who, where, and why of the murders of Azzuro's men. They needed to know if the men had been killed because they had begun to investigate the possible buyers of the possible auction. Vincent pushed down the constricted feeling in his chest and forced himself to answer.
"We have some idea, a few leads…I'm not giving up on him, Undertaker. But right now, I need this evidence looked at."
"Then you don't need my help? I could be so useful if only you'd give me what I eternally desire…"
"I don't have time to humour you, dammit – call my number when you have the answers. It hasn't changed since I left London." With that, he hung up. Bloody kooky idiot, he smirked to himself. The Undertaker surely hadn't changed, even if he had changed his profession. He was just glad the man had agreed to help them without asking for…well, that. Vincent was in no mood for games.
He headed back to the car, where Diedrich and Azzuro were already waiting for him, and without a word passed between any of them, they headed back to the tenement building, ripping away from the scene with nothing but a small cloud of exhaust in their wake.
-:-
The last hour or so of the trip had not gone as quickly as expected – in fact, it went rather downhill. Finnian had called for them to stop – something was wrong with his motorcycle – and, surely enough, they had a flat tyre. Pluto had headed off to the nearest small down for a spare tyre, which had delayed for a good half an hour, and by the time tyre had been fixed and they were on the road again, they were nearly a whole hour later than they'd hoped, and the sun was well and truly in the sky by now. Ciel was able to see much more clearly as the landscape whipped past them, and, all of a sudden, he felt a sudden pang of nostalgia about twenty minutes outside of London.
There was a railway crossing, but just before that there was an intersecting road across the highway that ran parallel to the train tracks. He didn't know how, or why he knew that, but just as he'd suspected, it was there, a line of pine trees marking the side of the road that branched off away to their left.
"Sebastian – can we detour to the left at this crossroad?" arms wrapped around the dark haired mans waist, he wormed his way under Sebastian's arm, and did his best to look up at the doctor. Sebastian glanced down at him before turning his eyes back to the road.
"Why?"
"Humour me. I…I have an odd feeling."
There was a moments pause, and then Sebastian put his brake lights on, slowly the travelling troupe down. They stopped at the intersecting road, and Angeline was the first to speak.
"What's going on?" she asked as everyone pulled up beside them, and Sebastian nodded back at Ciel.
"We're going to take a detour. We'll meet you back in London – the safe house out in Battersea, south of the Thames."
"By the art gallery?" Finnian asked, and Sebastian nodded.
"That's the one. Meet us out in Battersea Park by five at the latest if I don't call beforehand."
Pluto groaned inwardly. "Are you kidding me? That's another lot of cramped, residential living."
"Yeah, but it's got a garden." Finni piped up, but after an eye roll from Pluto, he quietened down. Sebastian sighed.
"We don't have much of a choice. Hyde Park's safe house is out because Bardroy tried to blow up the kitchen, Heathrow is out because I got word from the caretaker it's been completely fumigated all week, and we can't keep crashing with Lau." He said firmly. "All clear everyone?"
A round of nods replied, and they bid each other farewell, Angeline reaching over to give Ciel a brief but strong hug, before the others kicked off and headed off over the railway tracks and continued down the highway. The engine roar from the two motorcycles slowly faded as they got further and further away, until finally, the sound slowly died from their hearing altogether. Sebastian looked away down the intersection highway road.
"So." He said, looking down at Ciel. "Which way am I humouring you?"
Ciel pointed off to his left. "That way."
The engine growled into life, Sebastian revved the engine a couple of times, and the back tyre spun a little as he kicked up the stand and accelerated out onto the highway, heading north, Ciel's arms wrapped around his waist once more.
The miles ticked by, and every time Sebastian would send him a questioning glance, Ciel would nod for him to keep going – the strange feeling of nostalgia stayed with him the entire time, as if drawing them further and further along the almost completely deserted highway. The sun was high in the sky by now, and Ciel could feel it beating down on his head, but he was mostly shaded by Sebastian's form in front of him. They passed cows and fields of sheep, small little houses set way off in the distance, long winding driveways of red dirt, lined with low stone walls. Finally, after about an hour or so of travelling, they hit a three-way fork in the road, and Sebastian slowed the bike to a halt.
"Where to now?" he asked, looking in each of the three directions. Ciel looked up at the signpost set into the ground off to their left, just off the roadside. One sign pointed west to Leicester, and in the opposite direction, another sign pointed east towards Peterborough. The road that lay directly ahead of them was unmarked, but Ciel could see a small community village-esque area on the horizon around the highway, and he pointed forwards.
"I think…that way. I-it feels right."
"How do you feel?" Sebastian twisted around to looked down at him, and Ciel took a deep breath. He was slightly dizzy from the rush of adrenaline of going so fast on the motorcycle with the wind wiping through his hair and over his skin, chilling him under the warmth of the sun and pressed against the warmth of the doctors body. He felt alive.
"I'm all right," he replied evenly. "I don't know…a bit shaky?"
Sebastian nodded. "Adrenaline. If you start feeling ill, let me know right away."
"Kay," Ciel nodded as he leant his head against Sebastian's back again as the doctor began to move the bike again.
Five to ten minutes later, the small village surrounded them, a sign welcoming them into its perimeter claiming the small, picture-esque town went by the name Preston. Ciel glanced around at the quaint little houses, all with pleasant little gardens and doormats outside each door, the occasional tavern, trees lining the small streets, and the occasionally passer by regarding them curiously. Sometimes a dog would bark, and Ciel could hear the sounds of children playing somewhere, but as they reached the other end of the town, the feeling pulled at him even more – they were so close, he felt, just not there quite yet.
"Keep going," he murmured to Sebastian, who complied and accelerated as they left the small village of Preston in their wake. Five minutes later, Ciel caught sight of it – and at the very same moment, Sebastian suddenly seemed to falter; he choked like there something around his neck, and he brought the motorcycle to a grinding halt directly outside the stone walls, making the bike growl and whine as they came to a staggering stop, nearly tipping them both off it.
"This is –"
"Oh my God." Ciel breathed, sliding down off the bike and stepping off the highway, crossing the small bridge that led to the great wrought iron gates. "Oh my God. I've been here before."
Suddenly, without warning, Sebastian was behind him, scooping him up and roughly throwing him over his shoulder, striding back to the motorcycle. "We're leaving. Right now."
"What? Sebastian – wait!" Ciel cried as he thumped the doctor on the back. "Let me go, Sebastian! This is it! I don't know what it is, but this is –"
"This is Hell, Ciel Phantomhive. This is the hell that I rescued you from and I swore I'd never see you go back to."
"Thi-what?!"
Sebastian looked over his shoulder fearfully, his expression scared. In all the time Ciel had known him, he'd never seen Sebastian look scared – and yet now, the man was visibly trembling as he set Ciel down on the bike before straddling it himself. He fumbled with the ignition, but once the bike roared into life, they skidded around in a full three hundred and sixty degree angle and tore off back down the road. They whizzed back through Preston, past the crossroads that would lead them to either Leicester or Peterborough, and though Ciel had to cling to Sebastian for dear life, he still wanted to demand answers so badly. It wasn't until they were a good forty five minutes away from the hauntingly pretty little town of Preston when Sebastian finally slowed down to a reasonable speed.
"I need to stop."
"What?"
"I'm pulling over." Sebastian said, his voice shaking. Ciel glanced around the doctors back and saw he had been gripping the handlebars so tightly his already pale hands were showing his scarily white knuckles. Once the motorcycle was stopped, and they were completely stationary, Ciel could feel just how badly Sebastian was trembling.
"What happened? What was that place? Sebastian? Sebastian!"
The doctor seemed to be shaken out of his wide-eyed daze. "I'm…I'm sorry. I need a moment. To calm down. God…goddamn."
Ciel slid down off the bike, and Sebastian followed suit, but instead of staying standing, Sebastian crumbled like his knees were made of jelly, and he sank down to the sun-warmed tarmac, head in his hands. Ciel knelt beside him – it scared him to see just how vulnerable Sebastian looked. Sebastian didn't get vulnerable. He wasn't easily swayed. He was strong, he was…well, he was Sebastian.
"Sebastian?"
"I'm so sorry, Ciel," Sebastian shook his head. "That place…it's the underground Karnstein facility."
Ciel's eyes widened. "It's what?!"
"I know, I know!" Sebastian moaned in frustration. "I should have seen it myself. The old church that's falling to ruins beyond those gates is just a disguise. The real facility is a huge complex set in a cleared area of forest beyond it. It's a prison in there. It's hell in there. I couldn't let you see it. I couldn't let you be near it. I'd die before I let that happen."
Ciel reached out tentatively, and suddenly, Sebastian had grabbed his hand and yanked him in an awkward hug. The distraught doctor kept whispering apologies into Ciel's hair, and Ciel just kept awkwardly patting his shoulder until he'd calmed down enough to gather his thoughts.
"We should be getting back to the others."
"Yeah."
They stood, brushing themselves off, and Sebastian looked down at him.
"What is it?"
Sebastian shook his head, smiling kindly. "You're so strong, Ciel. You will become stronger. I can't protect you from everything forever. But if I can keep you out of that…that ninth level of all things unholy, Ciel, then maybe I can protect you from some things."
Ciel blinked in confusion.
"I don't get it."
"It's okay. Get on the bike. We're already going to be late when we get back to London."
Compliantly, Ciel hauled himself back onto the motorcycle for the umpteenth time that day, and wrapped his arms around Sebastian. The grip felt almost natural now, and the doctor had stopped trembling, thankfully.
"You are strong, Sebastian," Ciel whispered the words as the scenery was soon once again flying by them in a blur. "You're the one that makes me strong."
-:-
AfterNote:
And the funny thing is, on that note of Ciel believing Sebastian is the one who makes him strong, my now ex-boyfriend was the one who made me strong. I felt needed and I felt loved, and suddenly, I'm not either of those things anymore. I'm barely feeling functional at all, and typing is the least I can do when I haven't been in hysteria or staring blankly at the ceiling :/
So. Could I get some reviews? I know them getting back to London is a slow process, and I really feel that I need to get back to the action before people get bored and stop reviewing altogether, but I watched some of the anime the other day and saw the episode about the church of purists out in Preston and was like, well, there y'are, then.
Now I'm going to bed. Goodnight, all, and please review.
- Mercy