December was upon the Phantomhive house, which meant that the family was close to Christmas and just on the cusp of the birthday of the leader of the clan. He was never particularly enthused about it since he was ten, though in recent years, he had perked up a bit more as it typically meant that there was cake and that he'd get to spend the day getting doted on by his spouse. It was quite nice, the day of, but leading up to it, there was always anxiety.
While he knew that the likelihood of anything horrific happening on his birthday was quite slim, he was always worried deep down that something was going to happen. He didn't know what, as he knew it would be quite difficult to attack the Phantomhive Estate head-on, but he was certain that his father before him felt the same way. One could never be too cautious.
There was always a genuine attempt on his part to be excited and participate- for the most part, he was. He was simply tense and it has taken at least a hundred years to get over the all-together rejection of the day, so "tense" was progress. While he hadn't ever confessed to it openly to anyone apart from his husband, part of the reason he got a degree in psychology was to process things in order to get to this point. He thought that was part of the reason he had walked outside to the garden out back, but in truth, he hardly remembered when he started walking and why.
The air was cold and crisp as the warmest thing outside was the bluenette himself and the mist he expelled through his nose as breath met air. One couldn't see clouds in the sky as the sky was entirely shrouded in a single giant one. It swallowed the sun and gave everything a grim, grey tone, aided by the fact the none of the plants in the garden were even in bloom.
It was dead. Desolate. Perhaps this wasn't the best place to reflect on things due to it's oppressive atmosphere, yet Ciel was drawn to the Christmas light-covered gazebo, regardless, despite the lights not even being turned on. The wood creaked beneath his feet as he ascended the few steps up before sitting down at the table that sat in the center. The chairs were cold, but somehow, Ciel didn't seem to mind. Closing his eyes, he did his best to relax, finding the chill somewhat calming, if not slightly painful at times when it seemed to be too much. He took in a deep breath and tried to keep his mind from wandering.
Peace. Serenity. Silence. Stillness. Lifelessness… This wasn't working.
Perhaps it was times like these where his best option was to go back inside and seek comfort from his husband instead. Alois' embrace was perhaps the most comforting thing on this earth. His arms were warm, safe, and secure. Everything would stop, save for the steady beating of Alois's heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and his fingers lazily fiddling with bluenette locks as the Watchdog simply stayed put and took it all in. Truly, Ciel was in one of his weakest states in those moments. He was completely docile and open. He was vulnerable, but somehow, he didn't hate it one bit.
Over the years, Ciel had gotten good at seeking him out and asking for his emotional needs to be tended to, yet in December, he didn't like to bother his beau with it. Ciel felt as though he should have gotten past the irrational feeling of foreboding that he felt and was not at all keen on raining on his husband's parade when it came to celebrating things. Alois never did much for Ciel's birthday as per the Watchdog's request, but was adamant that he spoil the bluenette at least a little bit, just as Ciel did for Alois. It simply didn't seem fair, otherwise.
While the bluenette sat there, he focused on his surroundings and how he existed within them. The breeze had stop, leaving only the freezing atmosphere. Yet, for a just a moment, he thought he felt the feather-like touch of hands brushing against his hair. Eyes still closed, the Watchdog smiled to himself, knowing it to be the menace, somehow. He didn't hear footsteps or really even sense the blonde approach, but he knew it was him through sheer intuition. Or perhaps, he just wanted it to be.
Opening his eyes again, he looked out at the garden again. All of a sudden, the mansion seemed much further away than it once was. Blinking rapidly, he tried to refocus his vision, but it still looked as though the path was elongating and that he wasn't getting any closer to the end. He stopped his course and the path stopped with him. Everything stood still. Even the wind.
Everything was deafeningly quiet. It made Ciel uneasy. He couldn't sense anything, however. He couldn't sense anything at all. There was nothing strange going on, yet he still felt nervous. It was irrational. It was pointless. It was unreal.
There was something so surreal about everything in that moment. The quiet, the cold air, the lack of perception of depth. It was bizarre. It was an assault on his senses. Looking around, he tried to see if anything was out of the ordinary. Anything at all. Anything that would justify his unusual feeling.
Turning his head, he searched the garden, peering all the way over the line of trees that surrounded it. They were barren, now, but come spring, they'll be vibrant and green. Their barren limbs scraped at the sky with pointed, jagged edges and hid nothing, rendering the mansion visible to anyone in the woods at that moment. Similarly, however, those at the mansion could peer into the woods as well, and Ciel saw something that didn't belong there. It was something whose very existence is unnatural, at least in this location.
Where the branches met sky, Ciel could see a structure in the gaps between limbs. It was a towering structure made of stone. The only colour came from the brown roof on top of it, but it did nothing to help the already lifeless landscape. Blinking, the Phantomhive scrunched his face in disbelief. Certainly, there were ruins of nearby buildings that were destroyed long ago, but there shouldn't have been anything that close. In the more than fifty years since his return to England, he had ventured into the trees many times, and nothing was there. Against his better judgment, something within him compelled him to walk toward it. He reached the edge of the garden, only to cross over into wilderness once he got there, stepping over twigs and patches of dead grass as he left the sanctity and safety of his home and ventured into the unknown.
The path was longer than he had anticipated, but it was also more clear. It wasn't covered in brush and forest debris like the Watchdog thought it would be. In fact, it looked frequently used with only a thin layer of frost covering the ground and a wide space for people to walk freely. In time, he did reach his destination, only for it to be much smaller than he thought it was. Yet, it didn't match any of the buildings that he knew were nearby.
It was a church. It wasn't unusual for there to be a church on the grounds, as there was a small family chapel that previous generations used. It sat abandoned however near the family cemetery, while this one was not only a different church, but seemed as if it were brand new. There wasn't a speck of dust on the colourful, vibrant stained-glass windows and it even looked as if the bells had a shine to them. It was much larger than the one he knew and resembled a church that he had passed by rather regularly while he was living in France. The architecture was completely wrong for it to resemble anything from this area, as the gothic style was not in line with England's more protestant leanings.
"Bloody hell..." the baffled man let out, squinting to make sure he wasn't seeing things before finally shaking his head. He couldn't believe it. There was no way that this building could have been erected without him noticing or saying so, yet here it was.
He probably should have returned home to seek backup, but he was almost worried that if he turned around, the building would disappear. In order to ease his worries, he instead walked forward and reached out until his hand touched the heavy oak door that separated himself from it's contents. It pushed back against his hand, confirming to him that it was solid and not going to go away.
Suddenly, he gasped lightly and took a step back. His brows raised as the heavy doors opened on their own accord, presenting the inside of the church to him with a loud, long, painful creak. Cautiously, he stepped closer, carefully inspecting what he could see from the outside before entering.
"Hello?" he beckoned, his loud voice echoing throughout the seemingly empty building.
The pews looked brand new and the woodwork was impressive, as was the organ at the far end just opposite of the entrance. Religious iconography littered the place, but that was to be expected, as morbid as it was to see a large sculpture of a man being crucified and slowly dying mounted on the wall. Ciel never fancied it, but that didn't stop others from putting it on practically everything, even going so far to wear it around their necks. Crosses were torture devices, but few seemed to remember that detail, it seemed.
"I'm in here!" called a voice from within. "There's no need to yell!"
The prescenece of the sound was comforting. It reassured Ciel that he wasn't quite losing his mind. Relaxing his shoulders, he put them back and puffed out his chest as he stood up straight and tall. Now with someone to talk to, he marched into the building with dignity and purpose. The sound of his feet echoed against the stone floor.
"Where are you?" the bluenette questioned. "I need answers."
"Over here!" the voice called out again, causing the demon to turn his head. His eye turned to a large wooden box along the wall with two doors leading to two stalls. "In the confession booth."
"I want to talk to whoever is in charge of this place." Ciel demanded as he marched toward the booth. "This building is on my property and I want to know who built it, how long ago, and when they planned on asking me for permission to build on my land!"
His hand grabbed the handle to one of the stalls and gave it a light tug, but a force from within it pulled and held it shut. "Who taught you your manners?" the voice questioned from the other side. "Whoever it was, I'd like to have a word with them. I cannot speak to you at this very moment. Right now is the time of confession, not persecution."
"It isn't persecution." scoffed the Watchdog, tugging on the door again. "I couldn't care less about what this building is. It's on my land and I want an explanation. Perhaps you should confess to your crime of building illegally?"
"How are you so certain that I am responsible?"
"Someone has to be." the Phantomhive replied surely, only to hear a defeated sigh from the other side of the door.
"Some things never change, do they?" the other man muttered before addressing the bluenette. "Enter the other door and I will be more than happy to speak with you."
"You must be joking..."
"Humour me."
With a roll of his eye, Ciel reluctantly let go of the door before turning to face the one right next to it. There was the alternative of ignoring the request and forcing the other man to come out and talk to him, but something about that voice of his made him feel compelled to listen. It sounded familiar, somehow, but the Watchdog could not place it. Sighing himself, Ciel stepped to the side and opened the other door, ducking his head to enter the compartment before shutting it behind him and sitting down.
"There. I headed your request. Now head mine." the bluenette instructed.
"Just going to skip the formalities, aren't you?" the other voice questioned. "No 'forgive me father, for I have sinned?' Very well… I wasn't exactly a fan of formalities myself, but it would have been nice to hear you say it."
"I have no interest in confessing to you. What interests me is you telling me what the hell this building is doing here?"
"That's less of a 'request' and more of an 'order,' but you like giving those, don't you, Ciel? At least, you used to. You've been doing so a lot less, lately, haven't you? Teamwork didn't come naturally to you, but you seem to be adjusting well."
"What do you know of me?" Ciel warily questioned. "Are you a spy?"
"Yet, you are still afraid… I do wish you would recover a bit more, but you're improving, so I suppose that's fine."
"Cease this and answer me."
"My child, you shouldn't be so quick to anger." the voice stated. It was calm and somehow, Ciel wanted to trust it. Yet, hearing it made him uncomfortable for reasons he could not explain. "I apologise if I have touched upon a sore spot, but you must understand, I only want what is best for you."
"You don't even know me."
"I do, but I wish I knew you better. I know it's been hard and there's a lot to regret and dwell on, but dwelling on it forever won't help you. Surely, if you confess to your sins, you can begin your path toward forgiveness."
"Enough." Ciel growled, standing up. "I do not wish to hear you talk in circles. I did not want to use force, but you leave me with no..."
Reaching out, he grabbed the handle and forced the door open before exiting the compartment, only for his eyes to widen and his jaw to drop. The church was gone. In it's place, the bluenette found himself in a rather old office with hardwood floors and dim light that did it's very best to illuminate the wooden desk that sat before him. Seated there was a man in military uniform. It was an officer's uniform from World War II and Ciel actually recognised the man wearing it.
"Ah. Glad you could make it, Sir Phantomhive." the man said, his mustache bobbing as he spoke.
"Sergeant..." Ciel mindlessly nodded as greeting before shutting the door behind him. There was no way on earth that this was possible. The man was old enough when Ciel met him the first time to keel over in a decade or so, but that was back in the 1940s. It was impossible for him to be alive now, yet here he was.
"With everyone in attendance, I would like to go over the offense." the Sergeant informed while neatly stacking the papers in hand. Also in the room were a few corporals and one very nervous-looking soldier who somehow managed to also be hateful at the same time, glaring daggers at Ciel the entire time they were there. Ciel recalled this. It was an awful moment.
"We are currently debating on whether or not you should be discharged, Private Cassidy." the Sergeant continued. "It is an incredibly serious offense to assault an officer. If evidence is substantial enough, it could very well cause you to be stripped of any awards you've earned and dishonourably discharged."
"There is no honour in this platoon." Private Cassidy replied before looking Ciel's way. "At least, not while that thing is around. Sergeant, I have trained alongside these men for countless days and nights. We all share the warrior's bond that is stronger than that of brothers who are our own flesh and blood. This creature does not have any understanding of that. He not only left Private Behr to die out in the field, but he also shot Private Keith dead for trying to help him! How is that a commander that is worthy of respect?!"
Folding his hands, the sergeant took in a deep breath and tilted his head, looking at the bluenette in a rather tired fashion. He wanted not to believe what the private was saying, but obviously knew better than that. "Sir Phantomhive, is this true?"
"Sergeant Ellingham, if I may rationalise with you for a moment," Ciel began, speaking against his will. "Private Behr was already dead by the time Private Keith found him. He was shot be enemy soldiers as we performed a strategic retreat, but Private Keith insisted on attempting to carry Private Behr's corpse with us as we fled. He was falling behind, ranting and raving about how we need to get him back to his family, but there was nothing that could be done. His fit of hysterics was slowing us down, therefore I weighed my options and left him behind. Shooting him was on act of mercy. If he was captured by the enemy at our heels, he would have been placed in one of their camps and forced to do hard labour while he slowly wasted away from starvation and disease. Or, alternatively, he could be tortured for information and possibly jeapordise our future operations. I only acted after considering the possibilities."
"Liar!" Private Cassidy accused, only for the Sergeant to cut him off.
"Enough!" the older man said. "I will not have childish fingerpointing in my platoon! One more outburst, Private Cassidy, and you will be sent home and have to explain to your mother why her boy isn't a hero!"
The private seemed to calm down a bit at this, although he was still very obviously displeased. With that, the Sergeant shook his head. "Given the testimony, I'm going to have to believe Sir Phantomhive on this..."
Lowering his head, he looked down at his feet as the muffled sound of the sergeant talking slowly faded into music. Ciel could see the light changing around him as he could see it on his shoes and on the floor, but did not react. He didn't even react when he felt a closed fist violently pound against his back as he heard the sound of a woman sobbing.
"Give him back!" the woman shrieked. "Give me back my little boy! You bastard! You bloody bastard!"
"Your son isn't coming back, ma'am." the bluenette replied. He spoke in monotone and didn't even bother to look up. "He's dead."
The pounding stopped, but the crying did not. It only grew louder and less coherent. "He's dead." Ciel reiterated before slowly closing his eyes. "He's dead… He died serving his country… You should be proud… You should be…Angry at... the bastard who killed him."
Lowering hie head, he slumped his shoulders and let out a long, tired sigh. "Lies." he said aloud. "I lied. It wasn't entirely out of the goodness of my heart. I came up with that after the fact. I just didn't want to deal with his hysterics anymore. He was carrying around that body, crying and babbling like a madman at losing his friend… He was traumatised and needed to mourn, but he didn't have the chance to. No one did. It was easier to just get rid of him instead of helping him, so I did. Private Cassidy was right. There is no honour in that at all."
Opening his eyes again, he saw his feet once more. This time, they were surrounded by lush, green, grass. Looking up again, he found himself in the middle of a field. More pressingly, it seemed to be the wrong season as well. The sun was now shining brightly in the sky, beaming down on Ciel's face as a warm breeze brushed against his cheeks. Cautiously, he took a few steps before crouching down in order to further examine his surroundings. Wildflowers were in bloom. He felt compelled to reach down and pluck one as he recognised the kind.
"Most peculiar..." he muttered to himself, twirling the flower in his hand by its stem as he stood up. Bluebells. They were his husband's favourite. Ciel had actually been sitting on a plan of his that would go into effect come summer when he and his spouse were celebrating their anniversary. He intended to plant them in the garden as a gift. It would be a bit strange to intentionally plant wildflowers in a garden that was meant for British Aristocracy, but the Phantomhives were a bit of an unusual family. It was perfectly suitable.
Unable to toss the flower to the side due to his own strange sense of sentimentality, Ciel looked down at his coat and examined the lapel. After breaking the stem of the plant to fit, the Watchdog placed it through the hole to wear. Then, he looked forward and started walking. What more could he do? He was in the middle of nowhere and something strange was happening. Ciel assumed it was something supernatural, yet felt oddly calm. He supposed that there was no point in getting upset, as getting upset would not help him return home.
With a light grunt, he climbed a small hill, all the while surprised by the fact that it was warm, yet he wasn't burning up in his heavy winter coat. Temperature didn't seem to matter here, nor did time or space. As he climbed higher, Ciel could see over the hill, only to discover that this wasn't quite the vacant wilderness he thought it was initially. At the bottom of the hill on the opposite side was a small town. It was unusual in design, as only some of the buildings matched one another. They were built at different times with different materials. Some were made of stone with thatched roofs, while others were made of wood. A lot of them seemed relatively new, while others seemed to be in ruin.
The streets weren't very busy with only a handful of people here and there. Children scurried about while adults kept a watchful eye on them. As Ciel drew closer and captured their attention, a few of the adults stood from their stoops and gestured for their children to come inside, while a few of whipper-snappers remained behind without supervision.
"Hello?" Ciel called out, waving a few of them over. A handful of children stopped and turned their heads to look at him. "Can any of you help me? What town is this? Where are we?"
"It's a pirate." one of them said.
"What's a pirate doing on land?" questioned another.
"Maybe his ship sank?"
"I'm not a pirate, I'm a knight." the Watchdog was quick to correct them. He was now standing directly in front of them, towering over them with folded arms. "My name is Sir Ciel Phantomhive. Once again, do you know where this is? What village is this?"
"He's a pretty rude knight." one of the children pointed out.
"Maybe he lost his eye because he was rude to somebody." Another suggested.
"He seems pretty mean..."
Taking in a deep breath, the bluenette did his best to calm himself down, slowly letting it out in a long sigh. Relaxing his shoulders, he lowered his hands back down to his side in an effort to look less intimidating. "I'm sorry." he apologised, adjusting his tone. "It isn't my intention to be rude, it's just that I'm having sort of a hard time right now. I'm a bit lost, you see and I need to get back home. Could you please tell me where this village is?"
"If you're a knight, you should go to the castle." one of the children said before pointing. "Just take that road and go that way."
"No, I don't live in the castle. I live in a mansion near London. In which direction of London are we?"
"What kind of knight doesn't live in a castle?" one of the other children questioned, looking to her compatriots with an arched eyebrow.
"He's either a dumb knight or a liar." stated another one. "Since he doesn't have any armour on, I think he might just be full of it."
"I don't have time for this." Ciel stated as he immediately dropped his polite demeanor. Squaring his shoulders, he started walking away. He did head toward the road, however, hoping that it would lead him somewhere eventually. He walked in the direction that the child indicated, passing by houses and shops until he was almost to there. Then, a voice called out to him, making him lose focus.
"Ciel!" it called out, prompting the demon to turn his head. He saw nothing. "Ciel~!" That time it was drawn out, but the man still couldn't find the source.
"Who's there?" he demanded. "Show yourself immediately or get lost."
Was it the wind? No, Ciel was certain that he heard a voice. Just from where, he didn't know. He had his path. It was a very clear one. Yet, he turned to face the direction from which the sound came from and stepped away from it. Cautiously, he looked around as he walked forward, taking in his surroundings as he tried to find the source. All the while, the voice kept calling out to him. "Ciel… Ciel~..." But he could find nothing. All there was was the same grass at his feet and on the other side of the road, and on Ciel's other side were more houses, only now they were thinned out as he was on the edge of the village. The only other thing there was a small well that was sort of off to the side of everything. Next to it was an old, beaten up, wooden bucket connected to some dirty rope.
Arching an eyebrow, Ciel made his way over to it, not expecting anything, but hoping to alleviate himself of his curiosity. To his surprise, the sound seemed to be coming from there and grew louder as he approached. Then, all at once, it simply stopped as he finally reached it. The Watchdog placed his hands on top of the stone walls that surrounded the opening of the well and looked down, seeing nothing but blackness below.
"Nothing." he said. "Just a waste of time." He moved to straighten his back and walk away, but paused as he thought he saw two red dots at the bottom. Squinting, he watched as two dots became four, then eight, then sixteen. Growing concerned at what he was seening, Ciel tried to take a step back, only for the water to stir before finally inky black arms jutted out, splashing the bluenette with water before grabbing him, their fingernails digging into his coat.
The Phantomhive twisted his body, firmly planting his feet on the ground and digging his soles into the dirt. Pushing against the stone, he grunted through gritted teeth as he tried to pry himself away, but two more arms joined the first pair, grabbing him by the arms. Then four arms became six and he started to lose his footing. Huffing, his heart raced as he tried to wriggle away, causing his foot to slip, only to catch on the wall. With his foot there, he tried to kick away from it, freeing one arm to try and pry some of the ones latched onto him off. When his other foot slipped, however, he had nothing to catch himself on and he was dragged down into the water below.
On the way down, he continued to fight, but once he reached water, he knew that the fight would only get much harder. Opening his eyes, he couldn't see anything but the light up above. His ears picked up sound, however. Whatever was in the water with him groaned as it tried to restrain him and drag him further into the depths. The light from the opening of the well grew smaller and smaller with each passing second as his surroundings grew colder and colder.
Ciel was getting tired. He didn't know just how much longer he could keep this up. His powers were failing him like his energy was being drained. At this point, the man had no idea just how he was going to get out of this, but then, he heard another sound. It was the sound of splashing muffled by water. Seconds passed and he felt something made of wood brush against his face. With nothing else to hold onto, he fumbled around for it and pulled once he had it in his grasp.
He could feel something pulling on the object, but held tight, even though the hands still gripping him fought back. Whatever this thing was, he hoped that it was hoisting him up. The creature groaned as it tried to keep hold of him, hurting him as it tried to bore into him. It was the dull, suffocating pain of slowly crushed.
Yet, he somehow hit air and swallowed as much of it as he could. He could hear properly again and heard the sound of water rushing off of him before turning into a drip. Looking up, Ciel saw that the opening was growing larger now as he drew closer to it. Now there was enough light to see that he was holding onto the old bucket from before.
Slowly, but surely, the grip of the creature loosened with the passage of time. Looking down, he could see the red dots again as they slowly began to close like eyes. As he saw the arms lower, Ciel watched carefully and heard a low, rumbling voice.
"It should have been you..." it said just as the final pair of dots vanished.
Wrinkling his brow, a look of concern crossed Ciel's face at that. He couldn't tell what that meant. Though, perhaps he was simply too shaken to properly think about it. The demon didn't have much time, however, as immediately upon reaching the top, he had to shut his eyes. The light was so bright that he couldn't see at all. Holding on to the bucket with one hand, he held the other up to block the sun, but instead, it was grabbed and he was pulled forward with the sound of a small grunt.
"You're heavy!" a much younger voice declared, but soon, Ciel was at the edge of the well and could help his saviour by pulling himself out the rest of the way. The demon tumbled out of the well in a rather ungraceful manner, sliding out head-first and rolling onto his rear. Rubbing his eye, Ciel finally had the chance to focus his vision and gaze upon his champion, but somehow, the lad wasn't what at all what he expected.
It was a young boy, who looked to be around ten years old. He sounded like he was from the north and he wore dirty, tattered, monk's robes with sandals that were a size or so too big for him. What's more, is one of them looked as though the strap was about to come off at any moment, but he smiled as if he had no problems whatsoever as he peered at the Watchdog with dazzling light blue eyes. His hair was equally fair. It was light blonde, but cut in a bizarre fashion. The boy was bald on the back of his head. It was shaved so that his fairly short hair only reached slightly past his ears, immediately making one feel compelled to touch it. Ciel controlled himself, however, as the lad bent over at the waist and closely examined the seated pooch.
"Wooow~!" the boy began, doing nothing to prepare Ciel for what he followed it with. "You look like shit."
With a roll of his eye, the Phantomhive placed a foot on the ground and a hand to his knee, raising himself up so that he was now standing over the lad. "Is that any way for a monk to talk?" he inquired.
"Oh, don't worry about it, you're welcome, by the way." the boy answered, folding his arms with a small pout. "If it weren't for me, those well-men would have gotten you, you know. You're lucky I saw them grab you."
"My apologies, I'm a bit shaken up..." the bluenette relented, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "Thank you. But, if you forgive me for asking, how exactly did you…? I mean..." Looking down, he could see that the child was rather small and could by no means not only pull up Ciel's weight, but also pull against the force of a creature that was so strong that the demon could not free himself, even with his immense strength!
"I tossed the bucket into the water and hoisted you up by turning the crank, of course!" the small monk answered in a matter of fact tone. "Duh."
"That's not… Never mind… But aren't you a bit young to be a monk?"
"Yeah, but I'm not a monk." replied the blonde. A wide smile formed on his face as he smugly puffed out his chest and placed his hands at his hips. He spoke with pride and conviction as he not-so-casually announced to the demon: "I'm a saint!"
"The saint of what? Being in bed by eight?" His own words made him raise his brows, as they came out without him even thinking. His tone was playful, yet he worried that he came across as mean. The lad didn't seem offended, however. Rather, he seemed slightly annoyed.
Pouting once more, the blonde replied: "Usually the people I save are a bit more grateful."
"I'm sorry, it was a joke. I really am appreciative. I was starting to worry if I'd actually make it or not. I don't know how you did it, but you did save me. Thank you."
To that, the lad perked up again and grinned. "You're welcome!"
"You wouldn't happen to know what town this is, though, would you?" the bluenette questioned. "I'm rather lost and need to find my way back before I'm missed."
"Oh! That's easy, it's-"
"There he is!" interrupted a voice, causing the blonde to freeze. Turning his head toward its source, Ciel saw some of the children from earlier who had proved to be less than helpful. One of them cocked their arm back before throwing a stone, hitting the poor young monk square in the head and causing him to yelp.
"Hey!" barked the Watchdog with a snarl. His voice was booming and caused the children to stop dead in their tracks. The man puffed himself up, making himself seem bigger and commanded their undivided attention and respect. "You had best reconsider doing that again, or else I'll have to come over there and show you how to really throw stones!"
With a squeak, the boy who threw the rock immediately turned to flee, soon followed by a few others, presumably off to complain to their parents. Snorting, the Watchdog made his displeasure known before turning his attention back to the monk. "Are you alright?"
The blonde was clutching the back of his head where the rock hit him, but shortly took his hand to check if he was bleeding. Ciel could see it, however. There was a small gash that was clearly visible due to the boy's hairdo, prompting the watchdog to raise his brows.
"I'm alright." the lad said, although he had lost his cheerful tone, somewhat. "I'm used to it. People are thankful when I help them, but other people don't really like me all that much..."
Pausing, the bluenette watched him for a moment, wondering what to do. He didn't know really how to interact with this boy, but he couldn't just leave him in this state. Reaching into his pockets, Ciel felt around in hopes of finding something that he could clean the boy's wound with, only to come up with nothing. Then, however, he noticed his tie.
It was a bit of a pricey accessory, but one he had bought years ago. He felt no attachment to it in particular and there really wasn't much point in bothering to be formal when one was soaked to the bone in the first place. Reaching up, he unfastened the knot and slipped the tie from around his neck before crouching down behind the lad.
"Hold still." he instructed, gently wiping off the wound with the thick end of the tie. It was wet, so it was rather effective. Despite wiping it with the same article of clothing, Ciel then began wrapping it around the boy's head, protecting the wound. "You can throw this away later, if you want. I don't care. It might look kind of silly, but it will help stop the bleeding and keep dirt out of it."
Once he was done, he stood up again, allowing the other to finally turn around. The boy held the back of his head again and looked up at the Watchdog with raised eyebrows and wide eyes, obviously surprised by the gesture. The tie was tucked underneath his bangs, making it look like he was wearing a headband. Reaching down, the Phantomhive patted the boy's hair, ruffling it it a bit before taking his hand away.
"You'll be alright." Ciel stated. "You're a tough kid and you're strong, too. Look at them, throwing rocks from far away… It's probably because they know that if they're close to you and you suddenly decide not to take their nonsense anymore, they'd end up a bloody pulp. They're cowards. They want things to be easy. As soon as you make things difficult for them, they'll have to… reconsider their actions."
"You think so?" the young monk questioned.
"I know so. You might get roughed up a bit, but as long as you come at them swinging like your life depends on it and don't give up partway, you'll come out on top in the end. Did you see how they went running to their mothers as soon as I raised my voice? Cowards, the lot of them."
"I'll give it a shot..." replied the boy, prompting Ciel to pat his head once again.
"Good lad." the bluenette stated before starting to walk off. "I'll leave you to it, then. I, however, need to get going."
Watching him as he left, the monk was captivated by this drenched, disheveled man with a mean face. He wasn't so bad. In fact, the demon was quite nice.
"Ciel!" the monk called out, causing the Phantomhive to turn his head. "There's a church up ahead! Try asking for directions there!"
"I'll give it a shot." Ciel answered with a small wave. "Take care, little saint."
With that, Ciel started along the path again, leaving the boy to go about his business. While he didn't know where he was going, the monk's advice was a reasonable start. He carried on along the path, lugging the weight of the water still caught in his coat. The man adjusted it and tried to maneuver it so that it was a bit more comfortable, but nothing worked. In the end, he simply took it off and draped it over his shoulders like a cape in order to rid his arms of restriction. This way, there was enough of a breeze flowing through it that it would dry off a bit quicker. That wouldn't work if he simply carried it and it wasn't as though he could look even more ridiculous, somehow.
He did ponder the well, though. How it knew his name escaped him. Since the monk said he had heard it as well, it wasn't surprising how the lad knew he was called "Ciel," but that still didn't answer the question as to how the boy was able to lift him out of the clutches as that beast even when he himself could not. That brought the world itself into question, but he could never dwell on it long.
Once he started, his next step hit open air and he fell forward, letting out a yelp as he began tumbling down the side of a small cliff, his body striking the dirt slope that it rounded out to toward the bottom and cutting his face on branches before landing in a heap at the bottom with a hollow thud. For a moment, he couldn't get up. The blows to his head had caused it to spin wildly as he lay on his back, staring upwards. Groaning, he couldn't even bear to open his eyes right away. Once he did, his vision was blurred and the world seemed just a bit darker than it had before. A red and white, fuzzy, shapeless mass hovered above him and although his hearing was muffled, he thought he could make out a few words.
"His fever doesn't appear to be lessening at all." he thought he heard. The voice sounded familiar, but once again, he could not place it, nor could he the one that came after it.
"We've given him the medicine every day since you last saw him." it said. "Isn't there anything else we can do?"
"I'm not entirely certain… I'm sorry, Rachel, but I'm afraid our only other option is to give him more time."
The mass shifted as Ciel turned his head to the other side, only to see another one similar to it, but made up of gold. It grew bigger and bigger before the man thought he felt a hand on his forehead, prompting him to shut his eyes again. Suddenly, it felt like all of the pain in his body was gone with its soothing touch as it gently stroked his forehead, and moved all the way back through his hair before returning to its original place.
"It'll be alright, dear heart… Just go to sleep… You'll feel a lot better after you wake up."
That voice. Why couldn't he place it? Moreover, why did it make him feel the way it did? His chest felt so heavy and his throat felt as though it were swelling, labouring his breathing. Why, of all of the things that he had heard and seen in his one hundred and forty years on this earth, did it make him feel like crying?
Suddenly, the sensation was gone and he was able to breathe again. Sucking in an abrupt, deep breath, he bolted upright and began to pant as he stared vacantly forward. The world was a bit darker than before, yes, but it was because it was now overcast with clouds blocking the sun and sky. Looking back, he could see the cliff behind him, blocking his way back and looking forward, he saw the road ahead. The Watchdog also saw some rather unusual landmarks: oblong stones sticking out of the ground with faces carved into them.
On one side of the road stood three stones, one with a woman's face while the others had two men. There was a tall one on the side closest to Ciel with another man's face and it stood in front of a small, brick hut. Ciel could feel the sting of gravel embedding itself into his palms as he pushed against the road and steadied himself as he stood up again.
Making a haphazard attempt to dust himself off, Ciel investigated the objects, starting with the stone that was closest to him. It was old, but it was visibly in better shape than the other three. There wasn't just a face carved into it, either. There were also words.
"One taken with you." it said, prompting the man to raise an eyebrow. Looking across the way, he saw that the other three statues had writing as well. They each carried one word respectively.
"Three left behind." they said altogether. Ciel's mind immediately attributed meaning to it, causing guilt to bubble up from within the pit of his stomach.
That feeling opened a door as the entrance to the hut creaked open seemingly on its own. Hearing the noise, the man turned his head to face it and took a few steps to see inside. It looked much smaller on the inside with nothing but a place to sit. It was the confession booth again. While Ciel questioned the usefulness of it, given how he was transported somewhere else before. Yet, the man hadn't the foggiest idea as to where he was going to start with, so perhaps he could get some answers this time. Perhaps not, however… Perhaps it would only make things worse. Last time, the father in the confessional was more interested in his guilt than answering any questions, hence why Ciel ultimately thought against it.
"What do we do now?" whispered a voice behind him, causing him to practically leap out of his skin. It came from the direction of the three stones. Their eyes now glowed with an unearthly red hue, similar to the red dots of the well, sending a chill down Ciel's spine. If Ciel could not fight the creature from before, he wasn't sure what he would do if he were attacked again.
Yet, whatever it was that came, came anyway, as a black mass seeped through the rocks, starting from their faces, and plopped onto the ground. They gurgled and twisted before finally rising up and standing on two feet like men, but their faces were featureless now and their limbs were unnaturally long and skinny. All the while, the continued to whisper as Ciel slowly began to inch away.
"Can we take care of the place by ourselves?"
"Why did he leave?"
"Is he coming back?"
"Where did he go?"
Their voices seemed sad as they spoke, but there was a pause on that last question. It was as if the trio was thinking about it, mulling it over in a rather careful way. Then, their voices joined together in a loud thunder, causing fear to shoot through the bluenette in a way that he was no longer familiar with.
"WHERE DID YOU GO?"
Their inquiry was not answered as the bluenette immediately began to flee. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, propelling him forward without a second thought. He was scared. He was actually scared! His breath came out in shallow huffs as he ran with all of the energy he had, still going far too slow for his own comfort. His insides fluttered and churned, somehow feeling freezing cold despite themselves being a source of heat. They were angry at him. He knew it. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. Ciel was certain of it.
He ran, he ran, he ran, and he ran, not once bothering to look behind him to see if he was actually being followed. With time moving agonisingly slow, he saw a light up ahead. It was a soft glow, but it was there. Ciel had across the church that the monk had spoke of and saw the light through the windows. With his morale replenished, the demon picked up his pace and headed toward the door. He pushed as he reached it, trying to open it, before grabbing the handles and trying to pull. When that didn't work, he started banging on it, all the while shouting in hopes of getting the attention of someone inside.
"Sanctuary!" he yelled. "Let me in!"
"Begone, demon!" called a voice from within. "You will not waste my time!"
"Aren't churches supposed to give sanctuary for those who need it?!"
"Perhaps, but you are selfish, demon. You will not confess."
"Confess to what?!" demanded the bluenette in an authoritative tone. "I haven't done a single thing wrong since I got here!"
"Perhaps, but you have done grave wrongs in the past that you have yet to be forgiven for." answered the voice. It was that of the father from before. It was still calm, but had an air of control that instinctively caused Ciel to cower.
It caused Ciel Phantomhive to cower.
"I don't want or need your forgiveness, father!" the Phantomhive bellowed regardless, putting on the bravado he showed. "I want return!"
"Then you are not ready." the father answered. "Return when you wish to confess. If not, then the fault is your own, my son."
"Father! Open this door!" the Watchdog barked as he violently beat the heavy, wooden, door. Taking a few steps back, he saw as the lights in the windows began to fade, causing him to hit the door again with newfound desperation. "Father! Father! Open this door!"
His demands were unheard as the church was now silent. It was dead. Everything was dead as the demon's surroundings grew quiet and the world grew dark. The chill that ran down Ciel's spine surprised him, but mostly because it was from cold. Wasn't it supposed to be summer here? Examining where he came from, he saw nothing following him. In fact, he saw nothing at all. The path was gone. The grass was gone. It was hidden under a thin layer of snow. Now, it seemed that Ciel was once again alone in a field.
Taking a few steps out, he couldn't hear the crunching of snow beneath his feet at all, but he could see it falling. Soft flakes fell to the earth from the heavens, but something didn't smell right to the demon. Quite literally, in fact. Snow shouldn't smell. Cautiously, the man held out a hand and caught a snowflake in his hand, but to his surprise and horror, it did not melt. He held it closer to his face so he could get a better look at it, only to raise his brows and widen his eyes at his discovery.
"Ash."
Examining his surroundings further, he felt as though he recognised this place and began walking once more. This time, when he found the hill he was looking for, he marched up it rather quickly and looked for the village that he had seen before, only this time, it was only a shell of what it once was. Most of the houses were gone, now. The ones that were still there were only ruins or cinders. The bad feeling in his stomach grew more dire as his mind tried to come to terms with what he was seeing. Everything was gone.
No, that couldn't be true! Taking off back down the hill, Ciel quickly tried to make his way to the village, but once he was there, his fear didn't subside. Some houses were still on fire, but Ciel needed something to put them out with. "The well!" he reminded himself before rushing off in that direction.
Upon arriving, the bluenette quickly grabbed the old, beaten up bucket and threw it down into the water. With haste, he began turning the crank and pulling it back up again. It was heavy. After a while, Ciel actually began to feel tired and powerless, but he carried on, regardless until the bucket resurfaced, only for a hiss to come from it's direction. There was no water inside. Only a small, black mass with the same red eyes as before.
"Ah!" yelped the bluenette, only to let go of the handle and cause it to plunge back into the depths.
There was nothing he could use. Nothing at all. Still, he felt compelled to try and walked back to where the most houses were before he began to yell.
"Little saint!" he called, funneling his hands around his mouth to push the sound forward a bit more. "Little saint, are you there?! It's me! Ciel! Where are you?!"
"I'm here." called a small, sad voice, prompting the Phantomhive's attention. He was seated on what remained of a stoop that was left after one of the buildings burned down. Looking up at Ciel, those icy blue of his seemed hopeless as he absent-mindedly fiddled with a loose thread on his robe.
He was bigger than last time. The soles of his shoes now fit on his feet, but it seemed like the strap had finally broken on one of them, as the sole was now tied to the boy's foot using the tie that Ciel had given him. It appeared that his head had healed up, but he still wore that strange haircut that seemed atypical of the tonsure of roman monks.
Slowly, Ciel walked toward him. "What happened here?" the demon questioned breathlessly. He crouched down in front of the boy, getting on his level. "Are you alright?"
"I'll manage..." the monk replied with a light sniffle. "I always do… Everybody else, though… They got burned up… There's no one else left but me..."
"What happened?" Ciel asked again, softer this time, as he put his hands over the blonde's own as they rested in the boy's lap. "What did this?"
"The village was attacked." the boy stated. "You saw how little we had before, didn't you? That's because everything was taken away. When we didn't have anymore to give, they got rid of us. They didn't care. Those in the castle only care about what others can do for them. If you can't, then you're worthless… So we were gotten rid of..."
"You're not worthless." the bluenette said, his tone gentle, but confident. "You're worthwhile, just being here. As soon as I saw the ash, I was worried. I'm glad you're still here."
Somewhat somberly, the blonde offered a small smile at that with the small amount of joy it brought him. "Thanks… I just… I feel so powerless… We trusted them. They were supposed to help keep us safe, but… They lied to us…" The water that had been collecting in the boy's eyes finally began to spill over and run down his cheeks. "How could we have been so stupid?"
"You're not stupid." Ciel replied. "The blame is theirs, not yours. You did nothing wrong."
"I'm sorry… There's nothing to come back to… If you wanted help, I… I don't think I can give it..."
Pausing, the Phantomhive looked down for a moment. "Well, sometimes when you close the path behind you, things happen while your back is turned. This is simply what happens when you come back when you're not supposed to..."
"Everything is gone… All of it… It's not coming back..."
"Probably not… There's nothing that can be done about that… Once something is truly lost, one can never hope to get it back again..." It seemed hopeless. Ciel could feel it. There was nothing here. Nothing left. Staring down, he tried and he tried to think of a solution, but all he could see was the bluebell on his lapel.
Somehow, even after all that he had went through, being dunked in water and wrestled, falling down a cliff, and chasing away monsters, it was still intact. Curious, he plucked it from his coat and held it up to view. The vibrant blue and green caused the gears in his head to start to turn.
"Sometimes..." Ciel began, still pondering. "Sometimes you just need to work with what you have. Things will only stay like this if you never move from where you are not. You'd have to work very hard at not changing in order to stay miserable. Sometimes, it seems like that's the only option. That doesn't mean you should never be sad. It doesn't mean that you should completely forget what was lost, either. You should take some time, process your feelings, and then do your best to move on. Hang on to your memories, but if you never move on, you'll never be happy again. While the old happiness may be passed, new happiness is out there waiting, but you can't find it if you never start looking. So cry. Cry your eyes out if that's what you need to do. Just know that when the tears have stopped, you're ready to try again."
Reaching up, the Phantomhive placed the flower in the blonde's hair. The gesture made the boy perk up a bit and smile more genuinely. "That's pretty good advice."
"Glad you think so. More people should follow it and that includes myself." Stand upright now, the man let out a sigh. "I think my only option left is to go to that castle."
"What?! Are you crazy?!" the lad demanded, slamming his feet on the ground as he joined the other. "They'll kill you!"
"I'm not scared of them. They're cowards who back out of promises for their own gains, and I'm not afraid of cowards. Feel free to come with me, if you like."
"No… No, I… I think I need some time for myself, like you said..."
"Alright, then. I'll come back to check up on you once I'm done."
"Alright… Promise?"
"I promise." the bluenette answered with a warm smile. With that, he bid his farewells and began walking again. This time, he was more mindful of where he was going.
He climbed down the cliff instead of getting distracted and falling, nor did he run from the creatures that inhabited the statues. In fact, there were no creatures there at all. Only the statues remained. As he continued on, he did not find the church he sought refuge from, apparently skipping it entirely and heading straight for the castle gates. Without a plan, he simply pounded his fist against them.
"Open the door!" he bellowed in his most commanding voice. "I know you're in there!"
Nothing. No response. He had to think of a different approach. Suddenly, a smile graced his face as he got an idea.
"You worthless cowards!" he shouted. "You can take out a small village, but you can't take on me? One man? Are you all scared or are you tired and need a nap? Come out here, you sniveling pissbabies! I'll show you what for!"
With that, the gate slowly began to creak open, causing the bluenette to chuckle. "God, I love my husband." he said to himself as he quickly turned sideways and squeezed through the gap between the double doors before they opened all the way. "He always has the best ideas."
Once on the other side, he found himself in a large room where there was no light to speak of, save for what was at Ciel's back. From what he could see, there were piles upon piles of something, leading all the way to the ceiling. Furrowing his brow, he cautiously stepped closer to one and crouched down to examine it. Putting his hand on one of the objects in the pile, he could sort of tell that it was large in size and covered in cloth, but he couldn't make out what it was until he turned it over. As soon as he did, everything clicked together, causing the demon to utter a scream.
It was a doll. It was a life-sized doll, but he knew that face. It was Private Keith.
Ciel immediately leapt to his feet and looked around again at the massive, towering piles as the door behind him slammed shut, casting him into darkness. A soft, red glow began to light along the walls, spreading around the room until the man was completely fixed in. Now the Watchdog could see everything. There were dolls everywhere. Dolls! Everywhere! Mountain upon mountain of them, like corpses without decay. The more he looked, the more faces he recognised. No. No! He didn't want to see it!
Gritting his teeth, he held the sides of his head as fire roared around him and grew higher along the walls, but never touched the floor. Desperately, the Phantomhive wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't look away as the room began to suffocate him. Looking straight ahead on the far side of the room, he saw a pile that made his eyes go wide. He knew all of them. All of those faces. It had been so long since he saw any of them.
Bardroy, Finny, Mei-rin, Soma and Agni… His Aunt Angelina, Aunt Francis, Uncle Alexis, and his cousin, Edward… He saw them all at the front of the room, crushed beneath a massive throne. In it, a rather comfortable looking figure sat, leaning causally with one leg crossed over the other, its elbow on the armrest, and its hand in its palm. It was more defined than the others, resembling a human shape the most with believable proportions and small details like the outline of some clothing being visible. It stared down at Ciel with beady, red eyes and didn't seem at all aggressive. Rather, it seemed both unthreatened and unimpressed. Ciel didn't care about that, however. He cared more about what was at its feet.
"What did you do?" the man demanded with a snarl. He glared daggers at the creature, but it wasn't in any hurry to answer. Thus, Ciel demanded again, but louder, this time. "What did you do?!"
"Now, is that any way to speak to a king?" the creature finally replied in a rather bored tone. "Choose your words wisely and control your tone. There is no need to get upset."
"Absurd! That is the most ludicrous thing I've heard all day!" Ciel angrily replied. "A king? With what subjects? Everyone is at your feet!"
"By their own volition, I assure you. Every single one of them chose the path here on their own. What difference does it make if I assisted them in getting here?"
"You took advantage of their trust."
"I made use of them." corrected the shadow with a gesture of its hand. "Pawns are meant to serve the king and nothing more. It's as simple as that. They work for me so that I can meet my ends and if they must be sacrificed to get there, so be it. Their life was worth something."
"You took advantage of their trust and manipulated them." the Watchdog accused, clenching his fist. "You lied."
"It's juvenile to worry about lies." spoke the creature. "You are not a child on the playground. If people are smart and can tell what I'm doing, then they can make the choice to join me or leave."
"You didn't give them a choice. You kept people on the hook and then threw them away like trash."
"Like pawns, dear Watchdog. Like pawns. Trash serves no purpose. As long as they are worth something, nothing is lost in vain."
"It is all lost in vain. What ends? There are no ends. You're just a coward who feels the need to use others to boost yourself up because you're too weak on your own."
In an instant, the mood changed as the creature on the throne actually reacted. "Now, you see here..." It began in a rumbling, angry voice as it sat up straight and gripped both armrests, but the bluenette wasn't going to hear it.
"No! You see!" Ciel roared right back. His booming voice seemed to stun the creature for a moment as its narrowed eyes turned into circles for just a moment as if it were surprised. "You idiot! Heartless coward! Sitting there in your thrown on high! You talk of kings and pawns and how it doesn't matter just how many are sacrificed to suit your ends! It's pretentious! Life isn't a game of chess! These aren't pieces! Not pawns! These are people! They have hopes and dreams- family and friends who love and care about them and you threw them away! They looked up to you, loved you, and wanted to be your friend! AND YOU THREW THEM AWAY!"
Suddenly, the bluenette's fury faded for just a moment as his expression turned somber. Why did this hurt so much? Why was saying this so hard? Yet, Ciel knew that he couldn't stop there.
"Because you decided that they were worthless…" he continued, shaking his head. "Because you wanted to play at being God… Because you were helpless and wanted power, just so the feeling would stop for a little while… You're not a God! You're not even a king! You! You are a MONSTER!"
The creature's eyes narrowed as it stood up, puffing out its chest and putting it's shoulders back as it towered over the Phantomhive with fury radiating off of it. Yet, just as Ciel said, he was not afraid. He was only sad- Sad, as he finally concluded.
"And I regret… Every day… Ever being you." he said, his anger now gone. The flames the lined the walls of the room died with it, turning the room dark. "I never want to see you again."
In reply, a child's voice called from the darkness in the direction that the creature once was. The red dots that were the creature's eyes now stood lower now as it spoke. "You know you'll always have to carry me with you, right?"
"I know." Ciel nodded. "I can't forget. It takes a man to defeat a monster, however, and I choose to be a man. You won't get the best of me again."
When the creature didn't answer back, the man knew he was done, here. There was nothing left for him to do, so he turned back and nudged the heavy doors open, leaving the castle for good. He had places to be, after all. He promised the blonde that he would see him again, after all, and when Ciel makes promises and means it, he keeps them.
As he walked down the road, however, he spotted a good place to make a slight detour. When he walked on this path for the second time, the church was not there, yet here it was, clear as day. There were a few lights on, but the large, stained-glass window wasn't illuminated and somehow seemed lifeless. Ciel wasn't sure why, but somehow, he felt compelled to investigate it, though he had already been denied once.
Standing in front of the large door again, Ciel looked up at it and raised a hand. This time, when he struck it, he didn't pound with desperation or anger. He just hit it hard enough to attract attention.
"Father," he called out much more calmly than before. "I've come back."
There was a moment of pause before a voice on the other side answered him. "You've come back?" it questioned. "But what have you to say?"
"I'll say… I'll say I don't like the idea of 'confession.'" Ciel stated. "I don't believe in the idea that if you confess to your sins, you'll be immediately forgiven. It's unrealistic and it's unhealthy."
"Yet you're still here?"
"I… Also just don't like talking about bad memories. Being bothered by things is taken as a sign of weakness by many people, especially in my line of work. Bottling everything up, however, is also not a very good thing to do..."
"So what is it that you wish to do?"
"First, I would like to apologise for my behaviour." the bluenette stated. "Regardless of my stress, I acted harshly and with arrogance. I'm sorry." Pausing, the man then continued. "If you really want me to… I'll confess, I suppose..."
The father said nothing in response and simply opted to open the door for the bluenette. This time, Ciel waited until the door was completely open before he stepped inside, checking the perimeter and exercising caution. While he tried to remain subtle about it, the father still picked up on it regardless.
"Having doubts?" asked the priest.
"Only often." answered the Watchdog, looking around. "Where are you?"
"I'm in the booth, of course."
"Must we use the booth? I'm not sure how I can possibly know that I can trust you with my insecurities if you won't even show me your face."
"Do you not know?" questioned the priest. "Can't you recognise my voice?"
"No, I'm afraid. I can't place it at all."
With that, the father uttered a heavy sigh. "Well," he began, "They do say that the voice is the first thing that one forgets..."
Ciel heard the creaking of wood as the priest stood from his seat in the confession booth. He waited patiently as the door slowly began to open. Instantly, the Watchdog's eyes widened as he bore witness to the other man. He felt sick. He felt weak. He felt like sobbing. Two men stood in that church, both with blueish-black hair and a gaze that could strike fear into the hearts of the wicked.
"Father..." Ciel said breathlessly.
"My son…" the other man began, stepping closer. Reaching out, he cupped the Watchdog's cheeks and affectionately held him. "...You have already confessed. You have no need to explain yourself to me. You are a man, now, and it is time that you let go of the mistakes and regrets of a child. The past cannot be erased, but that's all the more reason to become someone who is truly exceptional. I will always love you, regardless."
"I want to believe you." the Watchdog replied, shaking his head. "But I'll never really know for certain. It's just as you said… Your voice is gone and with it, any trace of the person who you truly were. All that's left are photographs and… and… the admiration... of a child who lived a long time ago..."
"Then let go of me too." the father stated. "You have others who need you and love you. You already promised to reunite with one already."
"Yeah…" It was warm. The hands on his face were warm and getting warmer, soothing Ciel until his eyes began to close. "I agree with you on that..."
Once his eyes were shut, the air around him grew colder, prompting him to furrow his brow. The hands on his face were still there, he could feel, but his lungs suddenly needed air. He took in a deep breath through his nose and felt like he was coming out of a haze when he heard a giggle coming from somewhere in front of him. Somehow, it took him quite a bit of energy, but he opened his eyes again.
The Phantomhive was no longer in the church. In fact, he was no longer inside, yet under the roof of the gazebo in the garden. He found himself wrapped in a blanket as he sat in a chair at a table in the gazebo, but the first thing the man saw was the abdomen of another. That is, of course, until the man that was currently holding his face bent down to greet him.
It was a pleasant sight as the other smiled at Ciel rather earnestly. It was a big grin that caused the corners of his icy blue eyes to wrinkle somewhat, proving that the stunning blonde was rather enthused to see Ciel awake.
"Good morning, sunshine." Alois pleasantly greeted.
"Good morning..." reflexively replied a still rather drowsy bluenette as he continued to wake up a bit more. "What are you doing?"
"Well, someone decided to sleep outside in the middle of December." the other demon answered teasingly. "Your cheeks were really cold, so I'm warming you up. I already got you a blanket. Honestly, I'm kind of surprised you didn't wake up?"
"Why didn't you?"
"I wanted to squish your face while you slept."
"Is that something you always do, or is this a special occasion?"
"Oh, yeah. Every night. Ever since you've resurrected me, I've been squishing your face while you slept. In fact, getting you to marry me was just a ploy to get better access to your sleeping face so I can squish it."
"Well, it's good to have a hobby." Ciel stated, making a strained sound as he stretched. Standing up, he held onto the blanket around his shoulders as his husband kept his hold on him. Ciel was not guided by him when he leaned in to kiss the blonde's lips, however. It was right about then that he realised just how cold he was as he instantly wanted to cling to the heat source he was married to.
"Nah, but for real, you just looked peaceful and I didn't wanna bother you." Alois confessed. "You even drooled a bit. It was cute. Don't worry, I wiped it off. You looked like you were dreaming."
"Thanks for that. You're the best." the Watchdog smiled in return. "I think I was dreaming, actually… Can't remember what about, however..."
"Ugh, I hate it when that happens…" the other man replied, scrunching his face. "Can you try to remember inside, though? I'm freezing my balls off."
"That's rather unfortunate." Jokingly lamented the bluenette as he turned to start walking. He wrapped an arm around his beau and with it, some of his blanket. "But how is it that I've been out here longer and mine seem to be unvexed?"
"You had a coat and a blanket- also my burning love for you to keep you warm." rather calmly informed the menace, walking alongside him as they made the trek back to the house.
"That's very kind of you. Thank you very much. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Be alone, angry, and sad."
"True… That's probably true..."
A/N: This is the longest chapter in the entirety of DLTD/P at 22 full pages. Hence why I'm a bit late.
Uh... I don't really have much to talk about, here. I feel like I should talk about something or I should say something, but I got nothing.
There might've been something I wanted to talk about earlier, but psh, that was last week when I did!
Guess I'll save it for next time, then...
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
