The flag of the Lion was raised again as the Philosophers threw down their arms. They surrendered completely, providing absolutely no resistance as the HELLSING troops that were waiting outside the gates filed in. They secured the area, including the tunnel that the Philosophers had dug rather quickly. Food and other aid followed shortly after.
People finally left their homes, cautiously poking their heads out into the street in order to see what was happening. Once given the all-clear, Kristopherson's group, the Welfare Center employees, and Girasol all wearily stumbled out of their hiding places in order to see the destruction that had befallen their town. It was looted, yes, but it wasn't even close to being as bad as the place was before the first remodeling. They knew they could rebuild. First, however, they needed to regain their strength.
"Sam!" Daniel called out as he searched for his sister. He knew that she hid inside of Girasol headquarters, so that is where he started his search. When he found her, she, like everyone else, was a bit filthy, having had nothing else to wear for more than a week. That didn't matter, though. He was glad to see her alive and well, so he felt compelled to hug her, regardless.
"Jesus..." he said, holding her tightly. "I was so worried..."
"I was worried about you, too..." Samantha replied. "I had a room full of gangster vampires to protect me if we were found! I kept asking for your status when Kyung-Soon was on the radio."
"You were in a room full of gangster vampires and I'M the one you were worried about?!"
"They're good people! They took good care of me! Besides, even if you did have an elite team of bodygaurds around you, I'd be worried about you! You're my only brother!"
While technically, that wasn't true, it was true enough in the sense that Daniel was the only person who Samantha considered to be "family." She loved him and wanted to look out for him, and he did the same. If either of them lost the other, they didn't know what they would do. They would be alone. They would have friends, certainly, but nothing and no one would ever be able to replace their sibling.
Somethings could be replaced, however, and needed to be. The Westleys were a bit tentative about returning home, having been worried about the state of it. Their fears were only confirmed when they saw Kristopherson placing as many of his and his boyfriend's belongings as he could in the back of Kristopherson's car. Logan sat on the steps to the basement, but perked up when he saw the Westley's approaching. He looked like a mess. He was still weak from being stuck in the saferoom beneath Andrea's, and like his beau, had a beard going as well. They had tidied themselves up a bit, having had a working shower, but seemed unwilling to stay the night in Gehenna. When the older Westley got closer, he saw why.
"What happened?!" Daniel asked, increasing his pace as he approached his friends, prompting Kristopherson to step away from his vehicle to explain.
"Our front door is busted and there's some damage that needs fixed." answered the wolfman. "It's nothing major, but we're going to stay with my parents for a bit. Unfortunately, I think them coming to our place was either a mistake or to rob us, since most of the damage… Well… The hole in our ceiling was punched through while they were in your place..."
Daniel didn't answer him right away. Instead, his eyes widened and he pushed past him in order to see it for himself. He didn't even make it to the door before he spotted some damage. The door itself had been kicked in! It's hinges were broken and there was a dent in its face. As he ventured into the house, he continued to find things in disarray. His outrage was heard from the street.
Folding his arms, Kristopherson looked to Samantha, as she refused to go inside while her brother was panicking. "Do you have anywhere you can stay until it can be fixed?" he asked. "If anything, I bet the Phantomhives or Travis would let you spend a few nights."
"I don't think finding someone who will take us will be a problem, but getting Dan to calm down might be..." the younger of the Westleys replied.
"You're probably right… Logan and I are almost done putting our stuff in the car, but if you want, we can stay a little longer and help you guys pack up, too."
"It's fine. Dan and I can probably handle it. If not, we'll call in some help. You need to take care of Logan and make sure he's okay." the woman said without a shred of embarrassment, despite knowing what exactly that might entail. With the wolfman's face growing pinker, he said:
"Oh… Well… Call us if you need us, anyway." Despite Samantha's lack of bashfulness, Kristopherson certainly felt that way just a bit.
"I will. Everything will be fine, though. We'll just have to take care of it."
"You've gotten really good at coping to stressful situations, haven't you? It's kind of scary..."
"Well, having to adapt to a town full of supernatural beings will do that to you. I'm going to go check on Dan. I'll see you and Logan later, okay?"
"Sure. We'll bring a broom."
With that, Samantha made her way up the steps to her apartment that she shared with her sibling. It was certainly a mess, with papers strewn about, drawers torn open, and even the couch cushions thrown across the room. All of her books were on the floor, making her glad that she thought to escape with Baldassare's original copies and rough drafts. Fortunately, they didn't seem too terribly damaged, although if there was a bookmark in place on a page, it certainly wasn't anymore. Samantha didn't know for sure, but she felt certain that any money or other valuables that were hidden around the house or just lying out in the open were long gone. The more she walked through the house, the more of a mess she found. The most concerning sight of them all, however, was when she made it to her brother's room and saw him sitting on the floor next to the overturned mattress with his head in his hands.
Daniel was rightfully distraught. This was his home. He paid for it with his own earnings that he worked hard for and he gave making it a pleasant place to live his all. He wanted it to be a safe and stable environment for his sister to live in, but clearly, that wasn't the case. Now, that wasn't purely his fault, but it was his idea to move to Gehenna in the first place.
"Christmas was a bust this year..." he said after a few moments of being stared at. "There was no point to any of it. I might as well have burned everything myself..."
"There's no way you could've known this was going to happen." Samantha replied.
"Yeah, but it still sucks… It's our first Christmas living here and I really wanted to make it count. Maybe we were better where we were..."
"That's not true and you know it. That place was expensive and we would have Mum and Nathan trying to see us every other week. Personally, I prefer the bunker to that idea."
"I guess..." Daniel let out a long, heavy sigh. "I guess I just really want this to be my fault, somehow… I could make sense of it, if it was..."
"It wasn't in anybody's control. Not even HELLSING was able to handle the situation in time."
"HELLSING, huh… That's probably why they wanted in our place, so bad… They wanted humans, didn't they?"
"Thank God for bunkers and friendly, neighbourhood vampires, then." the woman stated. Slowly, she walked over to her sibling and took a seat next to him, sitting there in silence for a few moments as they both took in the situation a little more.
"It'll be okay." Samantha nodded. "All of this is replaceable stuff. We didn't have any priceless family heirlooms, and Baldassare's works are still in Girasol's bunker. All of the stuff in here can be put back together or replaced. We're both alive and that's all that matters. We're the only things in this apartment that actually matter if something happened."
Daniel lifted his head out of his hands when his sister leaned against his shoulder. "I was worried about you." she said, prompting him to lean his head on top of hers.
"I was worried about you, too." the man replied, finally cracking a small smile. "Still royally sucks, though."
"Oh, yeah, most definitely. I'm pissed off about them touching my stuff and kicking me out of the house. Where are we staying tonight?"
"I don't know yet… Let me make a few calls to see what I can manage."
That was the fate of the victors of the battle for Gehenna. They had to make hasty repairs or room together in order to not let the cold air outside seep in and chill them to death. Girasol had already mobilised and started providing assistance wherever they could and so did the remainder of the police force. They pulled together scrap wood and whatever pieces they could find in order to hold things together until actual supplies came in. Fortunately, The Lion had thought ahead and ordered a few things to get them started. It would arrive as fast as it could, but it might end up being the following day before it did.
As for the losers, they put their hands on their heads and surrendered with grace. HELLSING had room to house them, now that they have moved the first batch on to Pyestock. It wouldn't be pleasant, but if they had to, they would go through with it. Claire showed no fear, even as she was hauled away in order to have the dagger removed from her eye.
Feargus was right. It wouldn't regenerate. Still, the price was small, if everything the Lion had told her was true. If he really was going to grant them what they sought, she would gladly give both eyes. She would still live. By the time she was all bandaged up, however, she was informed that her brother was no longer at the base. He had moved on, but she would follow him soon after. Until then, she was in custody.
Despite the pain she was in and despite the uncertainty of her future, she kept her head held high. She maintained her dignity and her pride throughout the ordeal. That said, there was one moment, where she slipped slightly and it was upon witnessing a familiar face in the medical ward.
She didn't know his name, but she recognised his short, curly, blonde hair with one long lock covering his left ear. She also recognised him due to the fact that he was down one hand. Oliver Midford stared back at him, his face serious.
This was the woman who caused him to have to relearn how to fence with his left hand- how to do everything with his left hand and the stump that remained of his right. Even the most simple of tasks now required him to think about them for a bit longer, so he hadn't forgotten her face, either. At the very least, he recognised the parts that weren't bandaged. Yet, even he was surprised at his reaction upon seeing her. He expected to be angry, or at least feel a sense of schadenfreude at the fact that she had been captured by HELLSING. Yet, to the astonishment of both of them, upon looking her over, Oliver couldn't help but laugh. The suddenness of it made the woman stand there slackjawed, blinking at him as wondered what to say.
"What's so funny?" she asked while Oliver did his best to stifle his laughter.
"I don't know!" he answered. "I'm not making fun of you, I swear… It's just… I expected to be really mad the next time I saw you, but seeing you like that, I can't help but feel bad."
"Don't pity me. This is the mark of my ambitions and I will wear it with pride." Claire declared, straightening her back somewhat. But then, she gave a small bow of her head. "I'm very sorry about what I have done to you. Our war is pointless. There is no reason why this should have happened."
"You kidding? I finally have something I can brag about to the others." the Midford stated. "Everybody has battlescars. The bigger and more intense, the stronger you are, but I think I can one-up most of them, now. There's a bright side, I suppose."
When he saw the skeptical look on the woman's face as she obviously and openly pondered about the strangeness of the HELLSING operatives she had met thus far, he felt compelled to ask: "What's that look for? Do you want me to be mad?"
"No. I'm just not sure what to make of your kind..." the faoladh replied.
"I guess… Anyway, I need to go. See you around, newbie." Oliver said, turning and walking away from his former enemy. He left her far more confused than he found her, having defied all forms of logic that she was familiar with. That is just the way HELLSING was, however. One had to be at least somewhat strange to work there. It was like an unspoken job requirement.
The organisation was proving to be rather troublesome for the Philosiphers and it had gotten to the point where Abhartach could no longer deny that they were a threat. Although he had lost a good portion of faoladh upon losing Gehenna, including their leader, enough of them left along with the new recruits of the Neo Scarlet Order and other groups for him to still come out with more troops than he started with. Maintaining control of the faoladh would not be difficult. All it would take was a few falsehoods here and there. What he was most concerned with, however, was how exactly he lost Gehenna. Thankfully, he had a few new recruits under him who had ideas.
A young werewolf called "Bri" of the Mystic Moon Werewolf Pack claimed to know the man who was most likely responsible, as he was the one who admitted her to Gehenna from the start. His name was "Jim Phantomhive" and he was a local legend- a folk hero who protects the town when it is in trouble. Abhartach did not know of "Jim," but he had heard the name "Phantomhive" before from Johnathan's ramblings. When asked, Mister Beattie explained to him just what sort of person he was dealing with.
Although Johnathan did not know the details of his past, he knew that the blonde had been imprisoned for a while as a young teenager back in the 1800s. He was cheerful, but strong and without the ability to give up on his ambitions. Jim was quite famous around HELLSING for his ability to continue fighting despite the odds and despite damage done to himself, making him a truly fearsome opponent, but he was not all brawn and willpower. He was also sought after for advisement in some cases, and was known to be extremely intelligent. Even Johnathan had to concede to him. After all, Jim Phantomhive was the only person that his most hated Ciel acknowledged as having irrecoverably defeated him. Johnathan did not look down on him, therefore Abhartach could not afford to do so, either.
"How did he do it?" the dark-haired revenant pondered aloud. "How on earth did he pull that off? I sent scouts to watch HELLSING's forces outside the gates and they didn't budge. The guards at the entrance to the tunnel saw nothing as well, so what happened?"
"Maybe it wasn't him? Maybe it was the resistance?" suggested Sir Lexington, watching his superior as Abhartach stared into the fireplace, deep in thought. "Feargus reported there being word of one."
"Perhaps that's it. I'm sure he had some sort of line inside the city, somehow… I told Feargus to be certain to cut all of them, but knowing him, he most likely wasn't thorough enough." Ahbartach said, reaching up to rub his beard. "Perhaps it was The Lion who rallied and organised them… Perhaps we're dealing with a true leader of men..."
"How is that? He didn't even fight!" scoffed the incubus, but the other man seemed less certain.
"Fighting is important." nodded the revenant. "It is essential. One cannot earn one's place as nobility without doing so, nor can anyone ever hope to defend one's position. It is only though combat that one proves that they are worthy to rule because one only earns that right by taking and keeping, not through inheritance."
Removing his hand from his face in order to rest it on the mantle, he continued. "However, while one who rules cannot ever hope to rule without fighting, war is waged in many ways. If one isn't careful, one's men will become disillusioned and abandon you. Then what? You are nothing. You're back at square one. Might makes right, but fear can only control people for so long. No, a leader needs three things: Might, popular support, and mastery over fortuna. One must be able to fight their enemies, yes, but they cannot do that without the support of their people. Unfortunately, people will always fight for their own freedoms, so it is essential to be able to make promises and deliver upon them. This is why a resistance forms if one fails. One must also be able to adapt to fortuna- the unbreakable will of the universe that if you fail to either foresee it, or turn it into something that may benefit you once it has already occurred. It is uncontrollable and often cannot be prophesised, but a leader with proper virtù will be able to conquer it. If what I hear of this man is true, then he has mastered all three concepts. That makes him dangerous."
"Is he your 'fortuna?'" questioned Sir Lexington.
"It would seem so. This is just another trial that I must endure, however, if I am truly meant to be king. I believe that luck is on my side, however, as I just so happen to know a man who is itching for a fight with Phantomhive."
"You're going to let Johnathan have him?"
"I have no choice in the matter." Abhartach stated. "If I don't give him to Johnathan, then I will have made an enemy out of my ally. People fight for their own freedoms and desires, so I will simply let him fight. If that does nothing, then I will prove to him who is the better leader with my own hands. Phantomhive will fall. England will fall. I will rise above all others and ascend the throne. Divine right is on my side."
He was confident in his abilities. After all, he had had hundreds of years to hone them while the blonde menace had only been practising for a handful in comparison. Indeed, when juxtaposed next to Abhartach, his weaknesses became apparent. Even after winning the day, it still wasn't enough for the menace. His greed knew no bounds as he stared out the window and looked down upon the deadened garden below.
Nothing grew in winter. It was rather sad. Yet somehow, it felt fitting. Although Alois had won, he was still behind. The aid he had sought hadn't fully arrived yet, they were still getting faoladh processed, and Gehenna was still a mess. People were still hurting because he didn't move fast enough. He still wasn't moving fast enough! Now, there was nothing left for him to do as he was debriefed from the operation and sent home to wait until there was something else for him to do.
A long, drawn out sigh escaped him as he lamented the situation. He felt bad for everyone who was waiting on him, in turn. Alois knew he needed to be doing something right at that moment, but he was forced to rest. Indeed, he was turning into his husband, but this wasn't the first time he had gotten like this. The first time was actually when his husband was captured by Krampus and taken to his castle. Now, Ciel was safe and other people's well-being was at stake. Furrowing his brows, he squeezed his hands together even tighter as one thought stood out to him:
"I can't do anything."
No matter how high he climbed, it didn't matter if he couldn't keep the people under his care safe. It was perplexing. Thrones are worthless if there is no one beneath them to keep them raised, but Alois didn't want one. He was no leader of Gehenna. He did not rule it. The closest thing he could come up with for himself was some sort of "gaurdian" figure whose job it is to make sure everyone in the city are happy, healthy, and safe. If he couldn't do that, there was no point in Gehenna existing in the first place. Yet, even still, he could see the good that even this imperfect paradise could bring. He saw it's necessity, so giving up was not an option. Even if he was an imperfect guardian, he was needed, even if he couldn't always help. He wanted to help so badly.
A gentle knock on the door snapped him out of his daze. "It's open!" he called out, beckoning the visitor to come inside.
"Hey, it's me." Revy greeted, prompting the menace to turn around with a significantly friendlier expression. "You busy?"
"Nope. I'm out of the game for the time being." Alois replied. "What's up?"
"I was wondering if you knew anything else about that Abhartach guy." the younger Macken said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not case-wise, but about revenants in general?"
"Oh, sorry… I don't know anything about that. I only know the story of how he became a revenant, but it's still vague. I don't even know if the original Abhartach is inhabiting his body."
"Oh. Okay, then. Just curious..."
"Sorry. I wish I could help, more."
"Yeah…" the revenant looked down for a moment, avoiding his brother's gaze. It was strange, meeting Alois' eyes, at times, as every time he looked in the mirror, it made him seem bizarre with the difference in colour. Revy was now rather comfortable in this body, but still had a rather chronic sense of unease.
Turning around in his chair the rest of the way in order to face his younger sibling completely, Alois asked: "Is there… something else you wanna talk about?"
"Uh…" Revy hesitantly began, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "I dunno… It's probably not a good time and I'm not really sure how to ask..."
"Shoot." the menace stated. "Might as well…"
"Well… I was just thinking… I really don't get you. At all. It's weird."
"Sorry about that, mate." Alois replied, thinking the other was joking.
"No, I mean… Like… About earlier… You love Gehenna, but you just let the bad guys off? And you even helped them? It's kind of hard to see what side you're gonna be on, sometimes..."
"I was always on Gehenna's side. This way was just the easiest." Alois explained. "If we went in there, guns blazing, mostly civilians would have been killed. I didn't want that, so I negotiated instead. Smashing stuff is all well and good, but sometimes, it's just not the best way to do things. I didn't switch sides. I was always working for Gehenna's best interests from the start. I can see how it might not look that way, though."
"Oh." That was a strange response. For both of them. "I'm sorry..."
"It's fine. Sometimes, I didn't explain it or anything to you, so I'm not upset that you didn't know. I'm actually a bit worried that people in Gehenna think that I sold them out or something. I'll deal with that later, I guess..."
"How are you gonna do that?"
"No idea..."
"Do you worry about how they see you?"
"Yeah. I worry about how quite a few people see me." Alois said. "I'd like to say that I don't, but that's just how it is. Appearances matter. Though just being genuine works ninety-percent of the time. I want close people to see the truth, but people at a distance? I don't mind feeing them porky pies every now and again."
"So what is the 'truth'?" Revy questioned, arching an eyebrow.
"Still working on it." the menace informed. "I like to think that I'm a decent person now. An upstanding citizen and all that. I want to work hard and I want to have a happy family life… That sort of thing. Going for the dream, Revy."
"That sounds most like the answer to 'what do you want to be true?'"
"Isn't it? I have all of those things, now. I have everything I could ever want and then some."
"But?"
"…But, I'd like it if the whole 'mental illness' thing would die down some more." the Phantomhive confessed. "I can't stop thinking about what I asked Miss Whelan to do… I don't really get the 'blood relation' thing, but I can imagine that it would still be hard to kill a parent. It's amazing that she went through with it..."
"You manipulated a woman into killing her own father?" Revy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't do a lot of manipulation. Mostly, it was stating facts. The only manipulation I did was spreading that story about that kid's mum being killed by their forces. Other than that, she felt as though it was something that she needed to do for her people, just like Farroel said she would. We both had the same goal, so we worked together. That's all."
"Alright..." There was something about Revy's tone that indicated that everything wasn't "alright" with him. He wasn't buying what Alois was saying, as per usual, much to the confusion of the menace. Revy always did have trouble accepting whenever he told the truth and oftentimes, it seemed as though he was doubtful of his motives altogether. Things had improved over the years to the point where Revy did in fact trust him, but sometimes, in serious moments like these when something bothered him, it seemed to the menace that he was really doubtful of him.
"Is that not a good answer?" asked the blonde, tilting his head a tad. "You don't seem convinced."
"I… I'm sorry. I believe you." answered the revenant. "I just… Sometimes it's hard to tell with you. You can say things without meaning them so easily..."
"So you don't believe me, then?" Alois rephrased. "I don't blame you. You know my business. Anybody who knows about who I was or what I did would wonder. That isn't me, though. Not anymore, at least- or… I kind of hope it's not. I can't see myself from the outside, so it's hard to tell."
He paused, getting up and stepping around his desk in order to walk over to one of the office sofas instead. "You wanna know what's bothering me?" he asked, plopping down onto the cushion before gesturing for his brother to sit on the one opposite to him.
"Shoot."
"I don't like that I had to ask that of her." he said, shaking his head. "I don't want other people to have to make impossible choices because of me. I know what being in the hot seat is like, like that. You never wanna choose between two shitty options."
"How did you know that she would choose the one you wanted, then?" Revy asked, taking up his offer to sit down.
"Because. Both options are shitty for her, but I know that if I were in her position, I'd pick the marginally less shitty option of the two. Doing things my way mean that she and her people live another day. Sometimes, that's all there is to it. You don't need any other incentive."
"Is that why… you..." The younger couldn't say it. All he could do was hope that Alois knew what he meant. Understanding, the older nodded.
"Yeah..." the menace answered somewhat sadly. "I… I really hate that version of myself, but… I'm still here… Taping my dignity back together with the shards of it I have left."
Leaning back, Alois crossed his arms across his chest, resting he back of his head on the back of the sofa as he stared at the ceiling. "Everything was always about living another day and making things hurt less. Stealing money was just an opportunistic thing. It wasn't my plan from the beginning. I just knew I could get away with it."
"'Less?'" the revenant echoed in astonishment. He couldn't believe that. Not for one second. "How did it hurt less?!"
"You know what happened to the others!" the blonde replied, furrowing his brow as he lifted his head up to look at his brother. "You saw how bad they had it! Yeah, it hurt. Yeah, it was humiliating. It ate away at me until I was nothing but a battered husk of myself running on autopilot, but I wasn't gonna… gonna..."
Leaning forward, the Phantomhive rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face with open palms. He took a deep breath to regain his composure before he uncovered his face and continued to speak.
"Look..." he began. He was calm at first, but as he progressed, he grew more agitated again. "The basement was the worst. The disease down there would kill you if you didn't die from your injuries, and if you weren't injured enough to die from being picked, bigger kids would beat you half to death for scraps. Some kids did die from that! I was more likely to die if I stayed down there. I lived as a doll so I wouldn't live like livestock. Livestock is replaceable."
"Wow… Uh… Do… Do you hear yourself?" Revy inquired with a confusion. Offense was apparent on his face as he listened to the other. "Is that what you think? 'Livestock?' And you willingly chose to be a 'doll' because you didn't want to be 'livestock?'"
"Yes!" Alois declared in exasperation. "Yes! None of us were 'human!' We were 'things!' Objects! We could be bought, sold, broken, and thrown away in the span of a few hours and it wouldn't matter! If one of us died, 'oh well! We'll just grab another one off the cart!'"
"Then why is it better to be a 'doll?!'"
"Dolls at least resemble humans! I got the esteemed privilege of pretending to be human. Oh, happy day! All it took was my soul. All it took was breaking myself down into small enough pieces so that I could rearrange myself into the thing that that monster wanted. That's how I created value for myself. That's how I got harder to replace. If I'm harder to replace, the less likely I am to be broken by them. How am I the only one who understands this? I chose to watch the world behind a screen for a year and I chose to kill off every trace of myself so I wouldn't die, Revy! It became as natural as breathing and I couldn't stop it completely even after I was out. I chose that. I chose a lot of things. I have to live with those choices…"
Where was all of this coming from? Revy didn't want to look back to find out. He didn't know who this was. The man talking before him was someone he had never met, but should have a long time ago. Revy had lived Alois' life from behind a screen, staring forward, unable to look away. Alois was too, apparently. Revy knew the lie. He knew it well. He knew that Alois was a liar, he knew that he was a traitor and he knew that Alois was willing to do anything to get ahead just a little. Why should he have ever taken him at his word on anything? Why should he assume that Alois had his best intentions at heart? What did Alois feel about all of this? Revy didn't know. He was no longer in Alois' head. He couldn't process things after the fact alongside him in the same way. He was his own person, now, and he had to live with that. He thought that he was stuck carrying Alois' baggage, but he wasn't. Alois' baggage was slightly different from his own. Their perspectives were similar, but not the same. Alois carried a few more weights inside. The choices he made are some of the heaviest things he still carries.
"Jim..." Revy began, unsure of how to continue or even end. His brother stopped him, however. He had more to say.
"It wasn't my fault that I was there." he said. "It wasn't my fault that any of that happened to me. I keep sorting through things, bit by bit, and figuring out whether I really had an option or not. Death isn't an option. If there is a choice to do anything the right way, without anyone getting hurt, I want to always take that choice. I think I did, but I have doubts, y'know? I don't think for a second that I'm better than the others. In some ways, I'm a lot worse. It's not their fault, either. They didn't have any options and luck was hard to come by. I… I want to be me again, but that also means I have to do some thinking about stuff… I'm scared to… I don't really want to..."
Pausing, he took a deep breath again and reached up to wipe his eyes. "I'm sorry… I'm rambling..." His face was red, his skin was hot, and his eyes were damp. "I don't like talking about this stuff because of that… I explode too easily..."
"I had no idea..." Revy mumbled, lowering his head a bit. "I'm not being a smartass, or nothin', I'm mean… I really didn't know you felt like that… I can't tell what you think about it at all from just watching… Sometimes, It's like… I can't really tell who I'm talking to..."
"I seem fake, don't I?" Alois laughed and smiled, but it seemed so sad. He knew what the other thought of him, even if he never said it aloud.
"No! Well… Kind of… Ugh… There's no nice way of saying that… It's like, because I can't see inside your head anymore, I don't know how you feel about all of that… I don't know how you feel about anything anymore and it's scary… I have to do it all myself..."
The revenant nervously fidgeted. "Learning to exist on my own is scary… I don't know how to do it all yet..."
Blinking, the menace felt a bit bad for making this all about him. A nerve was touched and it reduced his ability to read the room. Uncrossing his arms, he stood up and walked over to his brother. Sitting down next to him, he apologised.
"I'm sorry." he said. "I didn't know… I'm sorry if I'm hard to read sometimes, too. You can talk to me whenever you want and I'll do my best to listen. I just..."
"Have your own bullshit to sort through?" the younger Macken finished for him.
"Yeah..."
"It's alright. I'm already kind of talking to somebody." Revy told the blonde. "I can meet with a therapist for free at work. She said I should talk to you."
"That's good." Alois looked relieved. "I'm glad. Does it make you feel better?"
"Yeah."
"That's good."
There was a pause, but then Revy asked a question: "Do you talk to anybody about it?"
"No." With a nervous chuckle, Alois shook his head. "I don't. No offense, but I'd rather deal with it myself. I don't really want a stranger knowing that stuff about me."
"Well, Ciel has a degree in psychology, doesn't he? Do you talk to him?"
Suddenly, the blonde stopped smiling. He closed himself off again, folding his arms as he continued to look ahead. Alois was quiet. He hesitated. There was no way he could answer that, although the answer was already clear.
"He doesn't need to know." the Phantomhive finally said.
"He doesn't know?!" Revy gawked. He could hardly believe that. Alois was always trying to be approachable and coax what was bothering people out of them, but for him not to do the same? It was impossible, especially with the person closest to him. "What all doesn't he know?"
"Doesn't matter, because it's not important."
"Of course it's important!" The younger Macken twisted his body to look around the back of the sofa as the other stood up and walked toward the door. "Jim!"
Once he was in the doorway, the menace stopped. "I don't want to talk about it." Alois stated. With that, he just left.
Revy wasn't sure of what to think of that. It felt like he was being the "responsible" one, for once. He wanted to nag at his brother, but Alois wasn't having it. Revy wanted to see the "real" Alois and it would appear that he got a glimpse of him. He wasn't ready to talk, although he was genuinely glad that Revy was. There were just too many worries that Alois had about the concept that he couldn't shake, in addition to the actual trauma that was weighing down on him. Are they equipped to handle sexual abuse? Are they really not going to tell anyone else? After all, Revy was his sibling and had essentially gone through the same thing, but Alois wanted his feelings to be private. Would they judge him if they knew about some of the things he did? Would Ciel?
He really didn't want to think about that last part. Ciel already beat himself up over the things he did during the war, but Alois? Alois was afraid of what he would think of him. It was true that his husband knew the general gist of things, along with bits and pieces. The really painful parts, though? Of course not. It was hard to bring up and even harder for Alois himself to stomach. Even though he had a feeling that Ciel would love and accept him, just as he always had, there was still enough doubt that he wouldn't.
Doubt is what caused Claire to turn against and kill her father. There was no telling what it would do to the relationship between the Phantomhives. Yet, as much as he talked about being open and honest, it was still difficult for him to follow his own advice. After all of this time of telling Ciel to open up about his feelings, Alois wondered about how he would react if he told the truth, himself.
Walking down the hallway, he made his way to the master suite and shut the door behind him. He didn't want to talk about anything, but when he stepped into the front room, his husband was sitting on one of the sofas. He looked up from his book to acknowledge Alois' presence, but did a double take as he noticed the expression on the blonde's face.
"Is something wrong?" inquired the Watchdog with a slight tilt of his head. "You look upset."
"I don't wanna talk..." Alois mumbled in reply, changing his tone completely from the defensive one he used with Revy.
"Alright. We can talk when you feel better." the bluenette replied. He didn't press the matter any further. "You've had a long day… Night, too. I'm glad you're home."
"I am, too." A light pink tint dusted the menace's cheeks at that. Even though Alois won't tell him anything, Ciel didn't seem bothered. In fact, he was downright pleasant.
"Do you want to sit?" the other asked, gesturing next to him, but the menace only shook his head.
"Can I lay down, instead?"
"Go ahead. Come here."
Somewhat hesitantly, the menace did what he was told and sat next to the other man. He then leaned over, pulling his legs up on the couch with them as he rested his head on the other man's thigh. Without looking at the blonde, Ciel placed a hand on top of his head, tangling it in flaxen locks as he continued to read. Quietly, they stayed like this, not speaking and not moving, save for the movement of Ciel's fingers in Alois' hair.
"Ciel?" the menace finally spoke in a quiet voice.
"Yes, darling?"
"Does it ever… Um… Are you ever mad when I don't tell you stuff?"
"Not usually, no." Ciel replied. "Most of the time, I know you'll tell me eventually after you've had some time to think. The only time I think I would get mad is if you were about to do something that would hurt you or myself. Like what I did in Rio."
"Oh..." The blonde's tone was flat. It was unreadable. There wasn't any emotion in it at all, but that made it stand out to the bluenette. His uncovered eye darted down from the book to the man in his lap as he looked to see what he was getting at, but Alois only stared ahead in silence.
"I think that if you genuinely felt uncomfortable or afraid of telling me something, that would make me sad, though." the bluenette added. "I want you to feel safe talking to me about stuff."
That made the menace shift a bit, but he didn't say anything. His discomfort gave the Watchdog a slight hint as to what he was getting at, but he wouldn't call him out just yet. So, Ciel continued. "You shouldn't feel pressured, though. If something's bothering you, you should tell me when you're ready to, alright? It's hard to get started or find a 'right' time, but you can bring it up whenever. I won't mind. Does that help any?"
He could only see the blonde's face from the side, but he could see that he was upset. His eyebrows were turned upwards and his lips were pressed into a thin line. The real kicker, however, was when the Watchdog felt a damp spot start to form on his leg, followed by a sniffle.
"Okay." the blonde said a bit weakly. "I'm sorry..."
"It's alright. Don't worry about it. Just worry about feeling better."
"Will I feel better?" questioned the menace. That was unexpected. Ciel didn't quite know how to answer that, at first.
"I think you will." he finally said, closing his book and putting it on the coffeetable. "You're just like me: Working on healing from terrible things to the best of your ability, and I think you will feel better."
"Okay..." Alois didn't seem entirely convinced, but he at least seemed slightly satisfied with that. "I'm also sorry for crying on your trousers..."
"That's alright. You cry all you need to."
"I want to stop crying… If feels like it's getting worse… I want to talk about it, but… Thinking about what could happen is even worse than 'worse'..."
"I don't think you can help when you need to cry. I think you just need to cry and you should let yourself. I promise I won't judge you or think worse of you when you finally do decide to talk. That's a real promise, not a 'Watchdog' promise."
"Why do you think I'm worried about that?"
"Because you care about what people think about you even if you say you don't." Ciel pointed out. "Usually, when you don't tell me things, it's the reason why."
"What if it is bad, though? What if I did something not just disgusting, but horrible, too?"
"Depends on what it was and the reason for it, I suppose. I know about some of the things you did as a response to trauma, and while you probably shouldn't have done those things, you weren't able to control them. As for everything else… Decency sort of goes out the window when you're trying to survive a life or death situation. It doesn't make feelings guilt or shame lessen, though."
"I see..." the menace replied, letting his eyes droop a bit. "I… I want to say that it was all to keep me safe and alive, but it still doesn't feel okay… It's my fault, still… Some of the stuff I did was… It goes beyond 'selfish...' I want there to always be a choice and I want to pick the 'right' one, but… It feels like I picked really wrong… Whelan might feel like this too after a while, and it'll be my fault..."
Ciel didn't know how to reply to that. With Alois' words came the realisation that there wasn't much that the Watchdog could say that would convince him. It appeared that whatever Alois and Claire said on that mission had struck a nerve.
"I'm sorry..." the blonde apologised, taking the other man somewhat by surprise. Ciel took too long to answer, so Alois drew his own conclusions. "You finally get to spend time with me, and I'm still being all emo about shit that already happened. I don't mean to make you keep having to deal with this… It's not your fault..."
Blinking, the bluenette's face actually looked sad. It wasn't out of pity, however. It was out of concern and empathy. "Jim," he began, "Are you afraid that I'll stop loving you?"
That made the menace recoil a bit. Alois drew his arms in close to his body, and squeezed his eyes shut, causing fresh tears to fall. "It's so hard..." the blonde finally confessed. "Having stuff you don't want to lose is hard… It's scary..."
Ah, so that was it. That was why he couldn't speak. It wasn't just about Ciel, either, and the bluenette knew it. Alois was talking about everything. His marriage, his family, his home, his job at HELLSING, and Gehenna- If he lost any of it, Alois didn't know what he would do. He had worked so hard to build himself up, but was worried that at any moment, the tower that he now stands on may collapse.
"I think I understand." the bluenette nodded. "Starting over again is hard once you lose everything. I'm still working on it, myself… Sometimes, relationships can be salvaged, but sometimes, what's gone is gone. It hurts, but in the end, I got to meet you. I got to genuinely love and be loved by someone. I'm glad it's you. We've both done things that we regret and wish we hadn't. There's things that we wish that we didn't have to do in the first place. You accepted me, so I will always do my best to accept you. Neither of us are perfect, Jim. You don't have to try to be."
"Do you love me that much?"
"I do. I might even love you more than that. I've had a hundred years to sort through my baggage. You haven't, so… Even though I'd like you to tell me about what is bothering you, if you aren't ready, then you aren't ready, and that's okay. I want you to feel safe talking to me about things, not afraid."
The menace paused to think about this for a moment, only to let out a sigh. "I don't really get you, sometimes..." he said. "I'm such a hypocrite, telling you to be honest with me, and then I turn around and don't tell you anything. I even cry all the time and expect you to make me feel better like some kind of baby. Doesn't that make you mad at me?"
"No… It makes me sad." his husband replied. "You're hurting and there isn't much that I can do about it. I don't think you're baby-like, either. I think you've come to a point where it's getting harder to deal with things in the way that you used to, now that your more negative coping strategies are gone."
"Revy says I should see a therapist..."
"You might. They might help you come up with new ways to cope and help you process things."
"If I don't want to tell you, though, why should I tell some stranger?"
"Because the stranger can't tell anyone and are supposed to be unbiased." Ciel stated, sweeping some of the hair out of his beau's face.
"What if I don't want anybody else in my head?"
"They won't be. All they have is their knowledge of psychology and the information you give them."
Pausing again, the menace laid there for a moment before slowly getting up. He pushed his palms against the couch, setting himself upright before reaching up to wipe his eyes. "I'm tired." he said.
"Go take a warm bath and go to bed." answered the other, watching as Alois stood up. "I'll be right behind you."
"Right..." the menace said, scratching the base of his neck as he walked toward the bathroom.
He was done talking for the moment and although his proximity to Ciel made him feel a bit better, he sort of wanted to be alone. It was sweet how Ciel tried to help him, though, even if he didn't always say what the menace wanted to hear. In truth, he was sort of hoping that the Watchdog would agree with him about going to see a therapist and now knew that Ciel would want him to. The menace did feel a bit better about his situation, however, even though he still didn't want to spill his guts to his spouse just yet.
One of the wonderful things about his spouse, however, was that he understood the menace in a lot of ways so readily. Ciel could read him so well. While their experiences weren't by any means the exact same, they both understood trauma and some of the feelings that might come from it. Alois couldn't imagine being with anyone who had gone through life "normally," and was pretty certain that Ciel felt similarly.
In his lowest moments, however, Alois was still surprised that Ciel loved him. Sinking down into the bath, it occurred to him how awful that was. How could he have still asked? It was obvious how the Watchdog felt. At least, it should have been. The bluenette had never done anything to indicate otherwise. In fact, despite being rather aloof around others, as a partner, Ciel was very loving. Alois sometimes called him "fussy," but he was always appreciative of the other man's care.
How could all of this happen? The blonde was slowly being forced to accept the reality that he lived in. People loved him. People looked up to him. People relied on him. Jim Phantomhive was an important person to many people. With that came a lot of responsibility, however. Jim felt a sort of unspoken pressure to continue to be "respectable," even when he couldn't be, sometimes. His failures in Gehenna heavily outweighed his victories, in his mind, and by now, he was convinced that the tides had turned on him, causing the population to hate him. It didn't matter that there had been no indication otherwise. Perhaps he was simply never meant to be that "big?" He didn't know. His mind was swirling both from the heat of the water and from his own thoughts.
He jolted at the sound of knocking at the door, causing his heart to race for a few beats. It wasn't aggressive, but it was unexpected and still managed to shatter the silence that the menace soaked in.
"Jim?" his husband's voice called from the other side. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah?" the menace called back."I'm fine. Why?"
"It's been over an hour and you were really quiet. I was just checking on you."
"Oh! Sorry, I didn't realise..." Quickly, the menace started making moves to actually wash himself. It was unpleasant, as the water was now cold. "I'll be out in a bit!"
"If you let me grab my shampoo and stuff, I can shower in one of the other rooms, if that's alright."
"Uh… Yeah, okay. Let me unlock it."
"I've got it." Next thing Alois knew, the door was unlocked and open, with the other Phantomhive looking very pleased with himself. "I've finally got the hang of that little trick of yours, I think."
True to his word, Ciel simply came in and grabbed a few things before heading back towards the door. "Do you need anything while I'm here?" he asked.
"No, I'm good." Alois answered.
"Alright. I'll see you in a bit, then."
"Okay."
With that, the door was closed and shut again. A while later and Alois was out of the bathroom and on the bed with his phone in his hand. He set an alarm for the next day and was about to crawl underneath the blankets when his husband came into the room he was in once more. He was in his night clothes, consisting of just a pair of pyjama pants and a T-shirt. It was the only time when Ciel wore either of those things, even though the menace bought him the shirt. "I like my women like I like my men. I'm bisexual." it said. The man wasn't wearing his eyepatch and instead held it in his hand, along with his belt. He put both away before taking a seat on the edge of the bed quietly, seeming to just relax for a moment while water still dripped from strands of his hair onto the towel on his shoulders.
Watching him, the menace finally spoke up. "Your pillow is going to be soaked." he said.
"Probably." Ciel answered. "I've been thinking about getting up and possibly using the hairdryer, but I believe I'd rather continue to sit instead."
Nodding, the other Phantomhive sat up and began to crawl toward his spouse. Alois stood behind the bluenette on his knees before grabbing the towel on the man's shoulders and flipping it up so that it was covering his head. With it, he began to dry the Watchdog off with it, prompting his husband to smile.
"I've been working nonstop for over a week and I still managed to dry my hair and now yours. What's your excuse?" the menace questioned playfully.
"Who knows?" the other replied. "It could be that I'm a lazy aristocrat, or it could be that I like being taken care of by my husband."
"Probably both." bluntly answered Alois, causing the other man to laugh. The sound made Alois smile, too. He needed it.
"I can't argue with that."
"Does this really feel nice or something?"
"Yes. I could fall asleep like this… I could do it for you, sometime."
"Nah. It would probably tangle my hair."
"That's a bit harsh."
"You're good at shoulder rubs, though." Alois suggested.
"So are you, but you know that."
Finally, Alois let out a chuckle. Pulling the towel off of his husband's head, he revealed the now ruffled hair underneath. He didn't care, though. Resting his elbows on the other man's shoulders, Alois put his arms across his beau's collarbone, pulling him closer so that he could kiss the top of his head.
"I love you." he told him.
"I love you, too." Ciel said back. With that, however, he stood up, forcing the other man to let go for a moment so that he could turn around and face the blonde properly. With a hand on his cheek, Ciel pecked the other man's lips before motioning for the other to move back.
"Toss the towel in the floor and lets go to sleep." he said, but as soon as he laid down, his husband had one arm around him and was using his chest as a pillow.
It was alright. Ciel invited him by opening his arms. Once they were comfortable, the two of them let out a collective sigh, only to laugh at their synchonisation. With his free arm, Ciel reached over for the remote on his nightstand and held it up to his view.
"Do you want the lights off or dimmed?" the Watchdog questioned.
"Dimmed, if it's okay..."
"Alright, then… Goodnight, Jim."
"'Night, Ciel." Focusing on Ciel being there made it easier for the menace to fall asleep. He did have a nightmare that night, but when he awoke, he couldn't remember what it was.
A/N: This chapter was laaaaaate. Sorry, sorry... I usually try to get them out by Wednesday, but the schedule is messed up and we're probably going to pick a different day, now.
Honestly, I've been wondering if my speed is gonna slow down or not. I just haven't felt like writing, lately. The reception of the last one was really kind of disappointing and has me kinda bummed, so I dunno... Posting into the void isn't really all that fun. It does take quite a bit of effort to do this. Writing 15-20 page chapters each week just doesn't really feel worthwhile, if they're not being read, y'know?
I hate complaining. I feel like I'm being whiny and I should get over it. I have my limits, though.
As much as I REALLY wanna finish this story, it's becoming much harder. This particular arc is unpleasant because I've spent months working on it and refining it before I even began working on it, but now I'm trying to rush through it because I'm convinced the audience hates it. It's like the feeling you get when you're saying something and then it slowly dawns on you that the people you're with aren't really interested?
I'll at least start the next chapter, though, because I really do- I WANT to finish this. I'll post it when it's done.
Until the next chapter, my duckies
