Much to his surprise, H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. decided to let mister Blackwood go, however, they did insist that he have regular checkups with them to evaluate his health. In reality, they simply wanted to monitor this so called "ability" of his, but it still eased his thoughts to know that he was going to get some help for his condition. It seemed to come to him as well, which was an additional pleasant surprise. In light of things, he actually began to feel a bit better despite knowing that something was amiss with the two Phantomhives.
He could see their faces- their real ones. He could see horns and tails and that didn't make him feel better about the situation, although it seemed to refocus his thoughts. Perhaps there really was something wrong with him, but it wasn't all that bad. Perhaps he was seeing within people's hearts, or something along those lines, or so he thought. Paul still had some thinking to do about the matter. Everything was going too well.
This organization has something within an abandoned part of the city and captured him for getting close to it. Then, they simply tried to convince him that stress was getting to him, and then let him go while forcing him to promise to check in on occasion. It was all to suspicious. Never in his life did Blackwood suspect that he would become the conspiracy theorist type, but here he was. It was hard not to think that way, given what he's seen thus far. Something was wrong. It was very wrong, and much larger than himself.
Still, he didn't know what to do with that quite yet. Life still went on around him as if nothing had happened. No one else could see. No one else knew. He couldn't talk about it to anyone without them thinking he was deranged. Even he still suspected that of himself, but not as prominently as before. Now he felt like it was something else. There was more to this world than he suspected, and now he could see it. He wanted to see more. He wanted to see everything.
With patience, however, he would eventually. For now, however, he had things to do. Blackwood went straight home after his release and tried to unwind, despite his swirling thoughts. Everything around his apartment seemed new and fresh all of a sudden. It was as though Paul had never really looked at it before. His home was now an adventure. With all kinds of surprises in store! All he had to do was look, see, touch, feel, and smell. Was there always a scratch on that table? Was the counter always this smooth? He simply had never noticed, but now, he was noticing everything.
It didn't come without cost, though. Eventually, he picked up his phone from its place on the charger to thoroughly examine. He had never noticed all of the scuffs on it's exterior. Perhaps it was time to buy a case. What his mistake was is that he turned it on as it had finally charged, only to find a slew of voicemails and missed calls from Daniel.
Drat. Blackwood had forgotten about the boy. He would certainly have to deal with him later. There was no way that he could keep the son of his employer waiting forever, especially when the younger man respected him somewhat, even if he could be a spoiled brat at times. Alas, he simply didn't have the attention span or emotional energy for it right at that moment. He still needed to shower and get ready for bed, where he would hopefully get some minute amount of sleep.
Unfortunately for the assistant, his mind was still buzzing, and his thoughts continued on that route into the wee hours of the morning. Blackwood laid in bed for the longest time, tossing and turning while thinking of everything he had seen thus far, and everything he had learned from doing so. He also feared for what would come the next day when he came into work. Surely Mister Westley had already been informed of the situation, and if he had been, he was certainly not going to be pleased. Still, these thoughts were far more welcome than the worry of death he had been facing previously. Thus, he was at least able to get some sleep that night, and it went a long way. It got rid of at least one of his concerns the following morning, but hardly put a dent in his anxiety.
Blackwood got up the next day and prepared to go to work. He underwent his usual routine, brushing his teeth, showering, getting dressed and fixing his hair. He jumped to it quite earlier than usual, so he had quite a bit of time to spare. Unfortunately, he didn't want to sit around and twiddle his thumbs for an hour. Additionally, he didn't whether or not there would be any delays, so he made his way to the metro station and hopped on his train. This time, he didn't take any detours and stayed on the right course until he made it to the end of his journey.
The man did hesitate on going in for a good while, trying to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. He didn't know if his boss was inside, as he didn't go through the parking garage to the building and instead went through the front door. Paul could only assume that his employer was here, given the state of things. He would be astonished if he wasn't, in truth.
Taking a deep breath, the assistant made his way inside and traversed up the elevator to the floor of the Westley offices. It suddenly felt foreign. The elevator was like an ascending coffin and the hallway too the office seemed to elongate as he approached, giving the corridor a feeling that was unworldly. Once he finally got there, he swiftly tried to make his way to his cubicle without being seen, but alas, for once, the boss was watching closely.
"Blackwood!" barked the Westley, causing the assistant to cringe. That was never a good sign. He was all on his own as well, given that his coworkers were desperately trying to ignore the scene. With great reluctance, Paul turned around to see his boss standing on the other side of the room with his eyes trained on him.
The man wore a dark blue suit with a red tie. It was almost disturbing how much Daniel looked like the fifty-something year old, only much, much more friendly. The man's brown hair was greying and wrinkles formed on his face, and the poor worker who's cubicle was next to his was doing her best not to gag as he smoked despite being inside an office building. One hand held his cigarette, while the other rested on his hips, distracting themselves while their owner's eyes glared at his employee.
"My office! Now!" mister Westley ordered, forcing a shudder to run through the assistant as his blood ran cold.
Meekly, the blond slinked to his boss' office, briefly acknowledging the sympathetic glances he was granted on the way. Everyone hated Mister Westley and it was no secret amoung the staff. The only one who was oblivious to this fact was Mister Westley himself, so it was obvious that no one said anything in his presence. Once he had vanished however, Blackwood was given the occasional "good luck" as he mad the long walk to the boss' office.
Once there, the first thing said to him was simply: "Shut the door and have a seat." Being the good employee that he was, Paul did as he was told and shut the door even though he was afraid of being trapped alone in a room with the other man. All of his employees were, especially if they were female or particularly pretty men. Needless to say, these sorts of employees did not continue to work for Westley for long until quitting. Another thing that was no secret amoung the staff was that Mister Westley often paid former employees hefty sums for not going public with things that transpire at his offices.
Even Blackwood had his fair share of embarrassing and humiliating situations, especially when he was only a young intern. As Paul's memory serves, he was no older than the man's middle child, Daniel is now, at the time. The thought disgusted him to no end, but he had no idea where he would go should he not have this job. It was his everything. He had dedicated so much to it, as he had worked here for years since he was young an impressionable to the older man's flattery. Now, he was not popular with Mister Westley any longer, as he had grown less dainty with time. Regardless, that was no promise that he was safe.
"Y-yes, Mister Westley?" he finally asked after being eyed by his employer for an immensely uncomfortable amount of time. It hadn't been long, but it was certainly long enough!
Westley, however, was less than friendly. "Do you have any idea what you have done?" the brunet asked. "You're costing me a fortune! You don't do your job… not to mention that hospital expense after I told you not to move those boxes! Are you doing this on purpose?!"
"But sir," Paul impulsively protested, "You did tell me to move those boxes! You just changed your mind after I had already fell..."
"So it's my fault?!" demanded Westley, eyes wide with rage. "Then I suppose you abandoning my son and getting arrested is my fault, too?!"
"No sir..." shrank Blackwood, making himself smaller in his seat. "Sorry, sir."
"You're lucky I'm being forced to give you a vacation." the other scoffed. "Paid, I might add! You don't do anything but cause trouble, and yet they think you deserve a vacation! If they weren't watching, I'd fire you. You hear me?!"
"Y-ye-yes, sir!"
"So you do have ears that work! What a surprise!" Mathew took a drag of his cigarette and practically blew it in the other's face. Poor Blackwood's eyes watered as he tried not to cough or make a face in the presence of his boss.
"Now, you listen here..." the older man continued, leaning forward. "I don't want you anywhere near this office for three weeks. Got it? Don't phone it, don't walk near it, hell, don't even look at the building. Understand?"
"Yes, sir." replied the blond, hoping this would be over soon. Silently, he almost prayed that he could soon flee, his muscles begging him to allow them to carry him out the door.
"Good. We'll call you when we want you back." Westley instructed as he leaned back again, resting comfortably in his chair. "In the meantime, just stay out of the way."
"Yes, sir..." Blackwood said for what felt like the thousandth time. There was nothing else he could say, as it was the only thing that the older man wanted to hear from him. If he said anything else, he might actually be fired.
"You're dismissed." his boss said. "Go home."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir..." the assistant said, standing from his seat while keeping his eyes trained on the floor.
He couldn't bear to move them or look at the Westley. He couldn't stand the thought of looking at the man, that horrible, disgusting man. Blackwood suffered much indignity each time he came to work, but this had really taken the cake. Solemnly, he exited the office before making his way toward the exit. From the look of him, his coworkers wondered if he had been laid off, but as far as Paul was concerned, he wasn't sure if that wasn't a better alternative, with how Mister Westley was going to treat him when he got back.
Naturally, Blackwood was angry and upset. He was enraged at Westley, but also disappointed in himself. Surely, he should have said something back to defend himself, he thought, but the reality of the situation was still present in his mind. He knew that he was powerless in comparison to his boss. All Blackwood was is a drone that does the work that Westley himself does not want to. He is perfectly replaceable. All that would happen is that he would be exchanged for a younger, doe-eyed version who hopes to live their dream as an important assistant to a powerful politician. What a laugh. Truly, it was pathetic. It simply wasn't fair.
But there was nothing Blackwood could do. He was not as influential or as wealthy as Westley. There was no action that he could possibly take to hurt him. That is of course, without hurting his own career. Paul could certainly tell the press all of the things that Westley had gotten into, but there was no garuntee that doing so wouldn't sabotage his own career in politics. He could shoot himself in the foot, even if he had proof! There was no guarantee that Westley would suffer any permanent loss, either. Mathew Westley was in every way completely untouchable to Mister Blackwood, and Mister Westley had Paul Blackwood completely trapped. There was no where he could go. There was too much security in this job, even if it was horrible. Mister Westley was, in a word, unbeatable.
Blackwood furrowed his brow, squeezing the rail of the train tighter as he thought about it. His commute back home was quick, but he really wasn't sure what he was going to do while there. He had nothing. Beyond his job, he was nothing. All he could do was sit in his chair and wait for his vacation to end before getting back to work and facing the cruel tyrant again.
So, that's what he did. When he got home, Paul took off his coat, letting it fall to the floor wherever and plopped down in his chair. For the longest time, he did nothing but stair ahead at the television set. It wasn't turned on. It was simply in line with where Blackwood's face was pointing. He did not move, nor did he think anymore. He simply sat there as tears began to collect in his eyes.
Blackwood didn't know what he was feeling. He was sad, angry, frightened, and stressed all at once, but there wasn't a word for that yet. His pride suffered, and so did his mental state. There was no form of divine punishment that could help him, and although he could see things that most humans couldn't, he couldn't find a solution. Merely seeing creatures was useless, especially when the devil wore a suit, sat on stacks of money, and was named Mathew Westley! Sight could not help him. Nothing could. All he could do was accept fate and do as he was instructed.
The phone was ringing. The phone was ringing. The phone was ringing. The phone was ringing. The phone was ringing but Blackwood did not hear it. He knew it was there, but couldn't register it. He was too lost in his own problems to see who it was. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Everything was completely pointless. Blackwood had given up.
Slowly, he began to wake up a bit and finally heard the phone. It took him a moment, but he was able to get up and answer it eventually. His body felt heavy and ached as he moved, trudging his over to the phone and raising it to his ear.
"Hello?" he answered, his voice tired as he lazily leaned against the table.
"Paul?" questioned the voice on the other end. Immediately, the man recognised who it was and fought to hold back a groan. He had completely forgotten about Daniel. It wasn't like Blackwood to fail to call someone back, especially when they tried to reach him time and time again. He knew that. Daniel knew that too. That's why the Westley felt a tad concerned at the sound of the other's voice. "It's Daniel."
"Yes… Hi, Daniel..." Paul replied, reaching up and rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry I sort of abandoned you. Things happened and I got a bit tied up."
"Ciel told me what happened." the younger informed. "Is it true that you can see things? You can see supernaturals when they're not in human form?"
Now that took the assistant aback. What in blazes was the young Westley talking about? He sounded mad! Then again, the whole concept of what he was seeing was mad within itself. Blackwood decided that it couldn't hurt to ask.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Supernaturals? I can see things, but… supernaturals?"
"What? I thought he told you." Daniel said. "You found the Special Zone and said you could see creatures… It sounded like the things that live there…"
"Special Zone…" That must have meant the fenced off area that those soldiers were guarding! The mention of creatures, however, was still unbelievable. But then again, Mister Blackwood debated as to whether or not it was wise to doubt in the existence of such things. His world had changed. It was as though he had found out that the world he knew before was a lie. Reality itself is up for debate.
"Yeah." answered the younger man. "You didn't know? I thought my dad would have told you? You're his favourite assistant, aren't you? Then again, that isn't the greatest job in the world..."
"He knows about it?"
"Of course. It's his job. No one told you about it? Oh man… You're in for a wild ride..."
At this, Paul's look of confusion worsened. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it's not an easy thing to explain. Most people wouldn't believe it even if they heard the entire story. I guess that's understandable. There's a whole organisation dedicated to it." Pausing, it appeared as though Daniel stopped to think.
"Over the phone probably isn't the best place to be talking about it." He continued. "You should come over. I'll give you a run down of the essentials. It'll make everyone's life easier if you know."
Now this was something that Blackwood had to give some serious thought about. It was true that since Daniel was both Mister Westley's son and friends with those two shady agents from before, it was very possible that he knew something. On the other hand, however, it was extremely inappropriate for him to accept. If his boss found out about the meeting, he would be absolutely furious, but it was also this idea that helped encourage and embolden Blackwood.
Disobedience would hurt Mister Westley. Additionally, since the man was under orders from his superiors, there was no way that he could fire Paul. Moreover, the older Westley's son had him at his mercy, as Daniel did indeed know his share of secrets about the family. Some of which, the father would very much like to keep hidden. He even went to the extent of paying his son hush money so that he wouldn't tell a soul! Yes! This was the perfect rebellion. For the first time in what felt like ages, the corners of Blackwood's mouth slightly turned upward.
"Alright." answered the blond. "I'll be there shortly."
A/N: Hello, hello. Glad to see you again.
This chapter turned out to be longer than I thought it would! 3,216 words! It was also shorter at the same time. I figured it would flow better if I saved what happens next for the next chapter. Forgive me!
Yet more Blackwood... I feel better about advancing the plot now that I have an idea of how the audience feels! Thank you all so much for your feedback! I was really, really worried!
That's also why the chapter is this long oaisdoaigoaig I just got to the point of things instead of fretting about "aaaah, I need to put the duo in every other chapter aaaahhh!" When in fact, I can just write Blackwood and speed things along quite nicely.
If you are hoping for the duo or some of the regular cast, though, we'll see them soon, I promise.
Speaking of which, I finally got an AO3 account! It's hard to use, but I'll be putting DLTD on there as well! It's a nice and shiny version because I actually have someone editing for me and fixing my horrendous and stupid mistakes. Bless the patience of the wonderful delight known as SpiteChilla, author of Redemption of the Fallen Stars, (which you should also totally read,) for agreeing to act as my editor and free me of the sin of the first few arcs of DLTD.
Bless them.
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
