Sebastian sighed as his gaze fell on a three-quarters-empty bottle of champagne left uncorked on the kitchen counter, a glass and a small spill marking the scene of the crime. It was likely the work of Bard. That chef could hardly cook without burning entire meals to a crisp, so why couldn't he at least clean up after his own messes? The butler wondered, briefly, when this had happened, hoping the bottle had not been out for long, though the contents were certainly no good for drinking anymore. And surely it couldn't be one of the vintage selections from the late master's cellar?

Sebastian propped his forehead with two fingers, exasperated. He did not have the patience to sort out such mysteries right now.

Last night, and for many nights this week, Sebastian had been far too busy to give as thorough an investigation to the Phantomhive Manor as he usually would have. The main entrances and first floor hallways were never overlooked, but the kitchen and servants' quarters he had passed by without much worry. He promised himself he would not be so distracted tonight and would be certain to confront Bard about the matter of the champagne at some point today.

But at that particular moment, the young master's breakfast had to be prepared.

And usually that remedial task wouldn't have been such an all-encompassing debacle, but lately Sebastian had to award some actual thought to it. For reasons he still did not entirely understand, this past week had been absolute misery. That wasn't to say he could feel anything akin to sadness or depression, unless pushed to extremes. Yet lately even he, an esteemed and world-wearied demon, checked himself every time he had to deal with the young lord, Ciel Phantomhive.

It was as difficult as if he were learning to be a human butler all over again. This was because Ciel himself had regressed. That was really the only way to define it. He had been drifting into leisure and isolation, preferring the company of himself, for then he could not be judged for being slovenly and negligent. He did not attend his studies and slacked on his company work in favor of reading and pool and riding his horse. He rejected invitations to minor social events. If it didn't have to do with the Queen or the family of his betrothed, he wanted to waste no time on it.

Ten days ago, words were exchanged between Ciel and a strange boy. What were those words? Sebastian's brain itched to know.

It began on February 18th, Shrove Tuesday. The general populace observed this as a day to feast before Ash Wednesday, the first day of the fasting period that lasted until Easter. For the wealthy and less devout, it was any other Tuesday, and for Miss Elizabeth Midford, it was an opportunity for a celebration. Amongst the lower-class, Shrove Tuesday was also known as Pancake Day, as pancakes filled the stomach and were easy and inexpensive to make. In Lizzie's eyes, Shrove Tuesday was a chance to host an evening eating crepes with a group of her closest companions. If there was one thing the young master and his fiancé had in common, it was their naturally sacrilegious dispositions, even if Lizzie only meant well.

Ciel usually tried to finagle his way out of frivolous social occasions, but Lizzie wouldn't let him escape this one, and so Ciel conceded, sighing only to Sebastian, "It could be worse. We're only going to be eating sweets." Indeed, come the 18th Ciel did seem to be in relatively high spirits. Sebastian rarely expected his young master's good attitudes to last more than a few hours. What he hadn't expected was for that good attitude, like a candle flame, to go from wavering to extinguished.

Between the carriage ride to the Midford manor and home again was the Shrove Tuesday party. Sebastian had not been present for it, and certainly that was where the transformative magic had done its work. He had entered the manor with Ciel and followed him to the drawing room. Inside the chairs and sofas had been pushed aside to make way for a grouping of long tables, on which had been laid out an assortment of marmalades, jams, compotes, and, the main event, a stack of crepes as tall as a top hat. Dining chairs surrounded the buffet, all but one seating a doll-like aristocrat's child.

Lizzie dashed up to Ciel as soon as he arrived and clasped his hands in hers. "Ciel, there you are! You're the last one to show up, you silly! Well, you're just in time to eat, the crepes are still hot, and we're going to stuff ourselves until we can't move!"

This "we" included a few faces that were only vaguely recognizable to Sebastian. Three of the guests were girls around Lizzie's age, wearing their warm winter fashions as they were yet due for the social season's spring dress. Sebastian had only seen one of the two boys before, a second cousin from the paternal side of Lizzie's family, whom Ciel had described as "boring but certainly tolerable." He was a delicate creature who was taught at home, hence why he was able to attend the party instead of being away at boarding school.

As for the other boy, Sebastian did not have any definitive answer why he wasn't at school. The child was a black-haired, tousled thing who slouched and leaned his chin on the tabletop. One of the girls was hissing at him under her breath to straighten up and he ignored her in all ways. Sebastian deduced that the two were siblings and somehow the younger brother had been forced into attendance, likely by the parents, as the sister seemed utterly humiliated to have to look after him. At around eleven or twelve years, the boy was surely old enough to be in college. But these were the only observations Sebastian made, and truly it was more in hindsight than in the moment, as the demon hadn't yet to suspect the urchin of anything.

"Sorry, Sebastian, but you aren't invited!" Elizabeth had wagged her finger at him in playful chastisement. "Us young adults are going to have our own party tonight! But of course you're welcome to celebrate Shrove Tuesday with our servants downstairs. Run along now!"

"Your invitation is gracious, my lady," Sebastian said with a small bow. "Young master?"

Ciel waved him off. "Yes, yes, go and make merry. I'll see you in a few hours."

Naturally, Sebastian's idea of "making merry" didn't involve eating pancakes with the Midford staff. He swiftly had himself situated in a treetop overlooking the manor, the gold fur of a slender tabby filling the space between his ungloved fingers. It wasn't often he had the chance to indulge his feline tastes… and at the time, this had seemed like such a dream that he'd paid hardly any mind to the party happening behind the windowpane just thirty yards away.

Sebastian did not imagine he would ever regret being preoccupied with a cat. February 18th had changed his mind.

He did give brief glances to the drawing room indoors, for even though Sebastian was certain his charge was in no immediate danger, his guard never dropped altogether. It was just after he was permitted to touch the velveteen of the golden beauty's inner ear that something caught his eye. Within the window's bright square, Ciel had stood up from his place at the table and was berating that lackadaisical black-haired boy, who was still slouching.

Sebastian kept the cat entertained with his hands and his sights trained on the window. From far away, his perfect eyes could read Ciel's lips – "If you can't behave yourself, you can leave. You're embarrassing your sister and ruining this party for the rest of us." Sebastian chuckled to himself. How unusual for Ciel to play the role of the 'responsible boy.' But that wouldn't be the most unusual occurrence.

The 'irresponsible boy' replied with something Sebastian could not make out with his back turned. Ciel raised his chin and retorted, "Well then it's no wonder they kicked you out of school." That was when the little Heathcliff rocked out of his chair to his heels and shouted. Whatever the words, they made Ciel lower his brow and put on a puzzled, concerned expression. The sister put her hands to her mouth, and the brother dashed out of the room. Lizzie came into view then, and held Ciel's arm to her chest and said something with a worried frown, nothing more consequential than an, "Oh, dear." Ciel still seemed to be digesting the secret words that were shouted at him. He said nothing and the children's gathering disbanded soon after.

Sebastian scratched his coin-colored prize at the base of her tailbone till her back arched like a bridge. Now he had to make busy dusting off her fur before he could show up to collect his master. The answers would be his in due time.

"That seemed to end a bit swiftly," the butler began, once he and his lord were alone in the carriage together.

"A bit." Ciel had his elbow propped on the windowsill and his mouth pressed to his palm. His speech was thoughtful, muffled.

"Did something happen?"

Ciel eyed him with the single spot of blue. "Some drama spoiled the party atmosphere. I think Lizzie was secretly delighted about it though. She has this new fascination with gossip and scandal. It makes me worry she'll ask me to make some kind of a scene with her in public someday."

"Some kind of a scene, hmm?" Sebastian mused. "What kind of scene was there tonight?"

"Jane Reubin's little brother was being a nuisance. He was making a mess and kept complaining that the crepes were too thin and such."

When Ciel stopped his explanation there, Sebastian only felt his curiosity grow. Certainly there was more of a story here. "Did he say something shocking to you, young master?"

Now Ciel looked annoyed. "Why is that any of your business?"

"It certainly need not be."

"Then it isn't."

"Young master, do not be so evasive. I can tell when something is troubling you."

"You're lucky I'll excuse your impertinence," Ciel growled. "When your master tells you his life is none of your business, you keep your nose out of it. Or your master might just be inclined to have you muck out the stables."

Sebastian's lips parted in mild surprise at the elevated turn of the conversation. No words would soothe now, and the carriage ride commenced in silence. He decided he would ask again about how the party unfolded in the morning. A good night's sleep was the typical cure for a sour outlook.

"I don't want to meet with Mr. Cavendish today," Ciel said when he finally rose at nine-thirty. "Turn him away when he arrives and tell him whatever he comes up with for the Dauphin line is fine. I'm sick of talking about textiles for stuffed bears. Yes, I know I had crepes yesterday, I still want three sugar cubes. I can wake up whenever I damn well please!"

Had the faeries spirited Ciel away in the night and left a most unconvincing changeling in his place? If only it could be so. Like it or not, this new brat was his master in the flesh.

When told he should be doing his homework, his paperwork, his responsibilities as the Earl of Phantomhive, Ciel would answer snottily, "I'm not going to today, and that's that. You can't make me do it, you know." And in some ways Ciel was right – he couldn't be commanded, not in the same way Ciel could command Sebastian, but that didn't mean the boy shouldn't be instructed. With trained patience, Sebastian had reminded Ciel of his goal to be the finest master possible, which meant he had to make appearances and continue his studies, to remain impressive and decisive.

"Well, I don't feel like it today, and perhaps not tomorrow either," Ciel had drawled, and that was that. Ciel had instead spent the day in his study, fiddling around with books and board games. Sebastian had felt that perhaps just one afternoon of recreation would be enough to appease him, but still a week later Ciel rebuked studying for trips to town and dozing about.

Mrs. Mayell the dance instructor and Mr. Hancey the professor of arithmetic had no qualms about the young earl calling off their appointments at the last minute. This was to be expected, as they received full pay when there was less than twenty-four hours' notice of a cancellation. The tutors only expressed real concern when Sebastian informed them their services would be postponed "until further notice." Sebastian could not have pitied them less: if they knew how the young master was acting, they would surely forego the paychecks than be in his presence.

And Ciel's obstinacy hadn't stopped at his lessons and meetings. When Sebastian had brought him his mid-afternoon snack in the library a few days ago, a more significant and healthy choice than usual because Ciel had neglected his lunch, the young master had glared at the crudités and then up at his butler. He gave a short laugh.

"I'm not going to eat this," he sneered. "Take it away."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "You should, if you want to feel well. The vegetables will give you far more energy than sweets would, and you're going to need that if you want to stay awake through dinner."

Ciel waved his hand at it. "No, I don't want it. Bring something with chocolate in it instead."

Without another word, Sebastian had. Perhaps he should have objected – he usually would have objected – but he really was getting tired of making decisions for the boy when all he would get in response was griping. And despite his sweet snack, Ciel had indeed made it through dinner without trouble. In fact, when half past ten arrived, the boy said he was hardly tired and was going to stay up reading as long as he wanted. On his nightly rounds, Sebastian saw his charge finally retire at around two in the morning. When the sun rose, Ciel objected to both an eight o'clock and a nine o'clock alarm, and finally managed to stir when it was a quarter till eleven, very begrudgingly at that.

Sebastian did not voice his disappointment, but he wore it like a mask. He was hoping Ciel would respond to it with shame and try to change his rebellious behavior, but nothing worked. In fact, his performance only grew more disheartening. It was nine o'clock on a Thursday morning, and Sebastian could only hypothesize that the breakfast of toast, half an orange, and sausage links would not be turned away. A month ago this meal would have been acceptable, but now? There was no telling.

After taking the trays upstairs via the dumbwaiter, Sebastian rapped softly on the door, waited half a minute, and then entered without being called in. Lately it had been likely this – no doubt Ciel was not awake yet, having spent another evening staying up as late as he fancied, without heed to what the next day would bring. It wasn't very becoming for a young person to sleep in so late, and Sebastian was tiring of this behavior, wondering when his displeased hints would have to transform into poignant order. He wasn't looking forward to that whatsoever. It was equally unbecoming for a butler to be telling his master how to live his life than it was for the master to be so slapdash.

As expected, Ciel was curled up completely under the blankets and comforter in the huge bed, his form immobile. Sebastian wheeled the trolley of tea and breakfast to Ciel's right and crossed briskly to the other side to open the drapes. It was a cloudy day, but the sun still peeked out between the gaps, and Ciel immediately cringed in on himself.

"No, close it... It's too bright for me."

"It's time to get up," Sebastian said merely, clipped. But immediately after speaking, he realized something was off. "Young master, are you... well?"

There was a croaking cough. "I threw up last night. Close the curtains." Ciel's hand waved out of the sheets. "Jus' close the curtains already... ngh. It's hurting my eyes."

Sebastian did as he was told, abstaining from a sigh. "Where did you vomit? And when?"

"I threw up into a towel so nothing is ruined or anything. 's on the floor somewhere. Now leave me alone."

Sebastian picked up the offending object and put it where Mey-Rin could find it later, glad he'd brought extra gloves, as always. He could not serve any food while wearing the same pair.

"Why didn't you summon me last night?" Sebastian asked, truly curious and a little put-off. Though he had not felt the need to carefully inspect the mess on the towel, he did note it had been completely dry. "You know I would have come to help you. We could have gotten you on the path to recovery much faster."

"I was too sick to." A pause. "I don't have to tell you everything. Now go away so I can rest."

Ciel was still hidden under the blankets, so Sebastian allowed himself a frustrated glance at the ceiling. Ciel may be sick but he clearly wasn't sick enough to lose his foul attitude. "I'm not leaving yet. Come out from under the covers so I can see you, please. We need to find out what your symptoms are, so I can decide if I need to administer medicine."

"Fine." Fussily, Ciel slithered his way out from beneath the blankets, his mismatched eyes annoyed but lidded tiredly. Sebastian had wondered if the sickness was a new ruse to get out of work but clearly the boy wasn't well. Sebastian took off one sullied glove and tested Ciel's forehead for fever. There was none.

"Would you mind describing to me how you feel, young master?"

"Yes," Ciel said, "but I will anyway. My mouth is dry but my throat doesn't hurt. My head hurts a lot. Don't open the curtains again, the light stings my eyes. My stomach still hurts but I don't think I'm going to throw up anymore." Ciel frowned up at his butler. "You're a demon, aren't you? Shouldn't you be able to pick up on when something is wrong?" And then, with a hint of panic, "You can't just know everything by looking at someone, right?"

"I cannot read minds, if that is what you are inferring." Sebastian removed his hand and took his remaining glove off to put on the new pair. "We could have solved many crimes for the Queen much faster, if that were possible. In any case, I see you are not well enough to leave your room today. Because of your nausea, I also doubt you have any interest in eating. I think a glass of tea might do your stomach some good, however, especially if there isn't honey in it."

Ciel licked his lips. "I... I feel like I should eat something."

"I don't advise it. Judging from your symptoms, I imagine you have some mild form of gastroenteritis," Sebastian said. Despite this diagnosis, he felt a bit wary of the boy's responses. Ciel had to be sick, but... he was behaving like he wasn't, in some ways. "I'll prepare you some peppermint tea instead of Ceylon." And then, reluctantly, "Is there anything else I can bring for you?"

Ciel had hunkered back down in bed and closed his eyes. "No. I just want to lay here. My head hurts too much. No lessons today?"

"Just as with the rest of this week," Sebastian said, his tone dry, "there will be no lessons."

"Good." And that was all. No acknowledgement that he had been behaving like a spoiled brat, just a simple reaffirmation of his power. Sebastian gave a small snort in disappointment. Just what was he going to do with that boy?

Sebastian wheeled the trolley out of the room and back to the dumbwaiter. Another wasted breakfast. At least today it was with purpose: it seemed like every other morning this week, all Ciel wanted was bacon or butter or sugar or something else that was certainly no good for his body. Maybe that was why he had gotten sick. Sebastian noted this with a touch of spite: this would be fair evidence for a future lecture, when he had the time and energy to deliver one.

He could hardly believe that Ciel would be bull-headed forever, but he wished he knew how long the boy intended to keep this up. At every one of Sebastian's suggestions, the young master could only oppose his butler. Ciel had to have his way, even if his way ended up being more of a hassle. For example, when Sebastian had recommended he take his bath in the evening, Ciel declared he'd rather have it the next morning. That had meant after breakfast, when Ciel had wanted to hurry to the early market, he first had to get the bath over with and had been utterly horrid then too. There was soap in his eyes, the water was too hot, the towels didn't smell right... where hadn't Ciel tried to turn everything on its head? It was stunning how burdensome this behavior could be. It was nothing Sebastian hadn't dealt with from past contracts, certainly, but never before had he felt so... personally involved.

Sebastian reentered the kitchen and began to fix the peppermint tea immediately. At the moment Finny was there, having his own modest breakfast of toast and butter at the servant's table. A swath of mud on his cheek said he had already started his chores for the day and was taking his first break.

"It seems that the young master is the only one around here who doesn't acknowledge that the world begins at sunrise," Sebastian said, handing Ciel's full plate over to the surprised gardener, question marks dancing in his round eyes. "The young master isn't feeling well, he has a minor illness. His breakfast will go to waste unless someone eats it."

Finny blinked at the butler. "Mr. Sebastian?"

"What is it?" Sebastian had already poured the wasted Ceylon irritably down the sink and was preparing the kettle for reuse.

"Excuse me if this is a bit forward, but I'm not sure I've ever heard you speak so candidly about the young master before," Finny admitted with the smallest smile. "All of us here are very grateful to him, of course, but... have you also noticed a change in his manners lately?"

Sebastian blinked. Should he confide in the gardener? He supposed it wouldn't look natural if he dodged the subject now. He delved further into it, promising himself he was only doing so to come off as normal. "Yes, I have. He is very particular and no longer wants to participate in his studies or his work. I don't know if he understands that this behavior is completely unacceptable for him."

"Oh," Finny said. "Well... I don't know about that."

Sebastian paused in the tea-making process. "What do you mean?"

"I guess I just mean..." Finny shrugged. "It is different behavior but that doesn't mean it's wrong. I'm not sure. I didn't have a lot of experience with other humans until a few years ago, but I think... I think people go through phases where they change and grow, and I don't think it would be unusual for the young master to be changing at his age, do you?"

"So drastically?" Sebastian hated that he had to ask.

"Maybe. I bet Bard and Tanaka would know more," Finny nodded.

Ah, that was right. "Speaking of Bardroy, have you seen him this morning? I need to talk to him about his... alcohol consumption."

Finny laughed brightly. "That sounds funny. I saw him outside in the stables when I was coming back in for breakfast, getting some feed out for the horses. Would you like me to go fetch him?"

"Please do." At least he could get to the bottom of one case this morning. Bard wasn't difficult to talk to, plus it was Sebastian's job to keep him in line, so this conversation would be a fresh breath after dealing with Ciel. Finny sped out the servant's entrance, leaving behind the breakfast plate, completely clean of food and shining as if it had been licked. Sebastian sighed. No one here tidied up after themselves, which wouldn't be so much of a problem if the maid weren't blind.

"G'morning, Mr. Sebastian," Bard greeted as he came in and removed his shepherd's cap, a question already in his voice. "Jus' what'd you need me for, sir?"

Sebastian merely pointed at the bottle and the glass. He'd left out the mess deliberately (as much as it pained him) to use as evidence. "Might you be a bit more diligent about cleaning up after your little midnight escapades? Can you not wait until your night off and do this at the tavern?" He raised an eyebrow in disapproval.

Bard only shook his head in confusion. "Wasn't me who did that, sir."

"Oh, wasn't it?" Sebastian mused. The chef could have gotten drunk enough to forget about it... but surely less than a bottle of champagne wouldn't affect Bard that strongly? No doubt he'd participated in his share of drinking competitions and could hold his liquor well.

Bard shook his head again and picked up the bottle, tilting it around to get a good look at the label. "No, can't say it was. What is this, cham-pag-nay? Never been too fond of the whites m'self. Not usually even the reds, unless it's heavy stuff. I've got a taste for mead really. Don't you peg me as a beer man? You know you're working with an ex-soldier, don't you?"

Sebastian had stopped paying attention about halfway through that explanation. If Bard wasn't the culprit, it certainly couldn't be Finny, who was eating another piece of toast nearby and would have immediately admitted his crime with a waterfall of tears. Tanaka was too cultured for such a thing; if he drank, he would have removed the evidence but still mentioned it in passing. He certainly didn't have the youthful gusto to finish nearly an entire bottle. And Mey-Rin, she wouldn't drink, and even if she had, no doubt she would have found a way to shatter the glass, and of course it wasn't Sebastian himself, wine had no appeal to his tongue...

Oh.

Oh.

Sebastian removed the whistling kettle from its station over the flame and calmly, carefully rearranged the tray so that it was once again ready for presentation. Bard and Finny were exchanging clueless looks, but Sebastian kept his face as placid as ever, even with a small hint of a smile. He used the pulley system to bring the trolley to the second floor again and met it, walking through the long hallways that he could have trodden with his eyes closed.

Sebastian made it back to the bedroom door and knocked thrice, solidly. This time there was a groggy reply.

"Come in, then."

And Sebastian did, hitting the door just so against the wall as he swung it. He closed it again without turning the knob, making the latch click loudly, and approached the boy whose gray hair was spread across the pillow in restless disarray, a hand propped under his bangs. As Sebastian prepared the beverage, he let the spout of the teapot clink against the rim of the cup, the spoon scrape the glass concave as he stirred, actions he wouldn't have permitted himself under normal circumstances but in this moment relished.

"Must you be so noisy? My head feels as if it's being stabbed," Ciel growled. "I don't care what you think about starving it out. My stomach needs something in it or it won't stop turning."

"Hm." Sebastian placed the teacup atop its saucer with an audible clink. "You know, young master, I think you may have had a point. I was wrong."

Ciel snorted. "Yes, you probably were, but what do you think you were wrong about?"

"About your having gastroenteritis."

Sebastian watched Ciel react to that. There wasn't much change, but Sebastian detected the subtlest of movements: a tiny dart of Ciel's eyes to the opposite wall and back. "All... right then. Well, I am sick. If something's not wrong with my stomach, I don't know what is."

"Don't you?" Sebastian asked. "I think you may have some idea."

"Don't talk to me that way!" Ciel shouted, somewhat hoarse. He glared hard at his butler, Sebastian gazing gravely back. Ciel held the stare for a few moments more. Then it dawned on him. Ciel knew what Sebastian knew. It was clear in those blue and purple eyes as they faltered to the floor: a look of uncertainty, guilt, perhaps even embarrassment, the classic expression of getting caught in a lie and wanting to disappear.

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak but cut himself off when Ciel's gaze shot up, as fiery as ever. With a grin, the boy folded his arms over his pajamas. "Well, what do you have to look so grim about? So what? I can do whatever I like. I'm the master of this place, not you."

Sebastian sighed long and hard. "Young master, you are only fourteen years old–"

"And I'm already a lord!"

"Title aside, you are too young to drink nearly an entire bottle of champagne by yourself."

"That isn't for you to decide."

"It isn't my decision, young master. Many humans before you have proven this so."

Ciel puffed out his chest, trying for proud. "They said I was too young to be the master of my own manor, too, but look at me. I'm- I'm practically an adult already! If I've seen people die, I can drink alcohol. I can handle it."

Sebastian shook his head. "Clearly, young master, you are not handling it well in the least."

"Well, if you were any good at your job, you would have stopped me before I drank!" Ciel shouted, having risen to his knees in bed so they were closer to the same height. He laughed once, mockingly. "But no one saw me! No one even tried to stop me, not even you, even though you say you're always looking out for me, patrolling the hallways after I'm supposed to be asleep! Couldn't even tell what a 'child' was doing, out of bed in the middle of the night! And now you'll regret it, won't you? You failed, Sebastian! Ouch! Damn it..."

Ciel hissed as his head panged, and he sunk back on his heels.

"You think I failed because I didn't notice you were awake?" Sebastian said. Ciel nodded, baring his teeth in pain but trying to look as if it were a threat. Sebastian remained calm. "Perhaps I did fail, though I don't know what that failure is based on. I did not miss you last night, because I was only looking for anything out of the ordinary. I did not look in the kitchen and, considering your new sleeping schedule as of this week, I did not think it was odd for you to be out of bed at that hour. I myself was rather busy with a task I deemed more important."

"Oh, and what would that be?" Ciel said, grinning maliciously. "What's more important than making sure I'm well? Why didn't you know I was up to no good?"

"Are you implying that you only drank so that I might catch you?"

Ciel looked away. "No. But I..." He trailed off and grunted. "Not that you need to know. Or deserve to know."

"So you drank champagne with the express purpose of getting drunk?"

"Sure I did. Because I can."

"That's your only reason?"

"What more reason do you need from your master?"

Sebastian's eyebrow ticked. "I need one to ascertain your own health."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "I'm not really even sick, I'm just affected by the alcohol, it'll go away–"

"You're ill right now because you made a poor decision, young master. You need to take better account of your own well-being."

"It was the decision I wanted to make, that's all that matters!"

"And why all of a sudden?"

"It isn't sudden!"

"Ten days ago you weren't–"

"I've always been able to do whatever I wish!"

"And why have you decided you can do whatever you wish?" Sebastian finally asked. He felt as if he had blurted it out: how often did he reveal he didn't know something? But he was too vexed to care. "You are, obviously, at the oldest in this moment that you have ever been. Yet you are acting as if you are that ten-year-old urchin I first met. There were those weeks, long after you better recovered from your parents' deaths and from your months as a captive, that your behavior began to worsen just a bit, because your freedom had come back to you and you realized that no one would tell you what to do anymore." Ciel folded his arms more tightly at that, scowling. "That is how you are behaving again, and I know the Shrove Tuesday party has something to do with it. It is as if that Reubin boy has spoken the incantation to turn you into the troll under the bridge. But what those words could be, I cannot possibly fathom." Ciel's cheeks and ears burned a livid red. "And so I ask you, now, to tell me where this wicked nature has sprung from."

"I don't know!" Ciel shouted, throwing his arms out and laughing, but not merrily. "I don't know, how the hell am I supposed to answer that? I'm only acting like myself, not anybody else!"

Sebastian put a knuckle to his chin. "I should tell your aunt about the champagne."

Ciel's eyes widened. "No, you won't."

"I won't," Sebastian said, "but perhaps she would better know how to put up with you, since she is family. As your butler, I must say I have no idea how to make sense of your behavior. You need to eat more healthfully, you need to learn the lessons I give you, and you need to behave like a well-mannered young man. Surely you know these things, because I have seen you be capable of them. It is as if you have simply decided to disregard all of your hard work and transform into a silly child."

"I don't know why I am," Ciel said, knotting up the sheets in his hands. He let go of them and knocked himself on the head with both fists. "I don't know, I don't know! I'm just being myself, all right? I don't understand what the problem is."

"And to answer your previous question," said Sebastian, handing over the tea with a little too much force, "what I have been doing at night is trying to research what might have caused such an abrupt change in you. But I cannot find a single thread in the books in your library. I am going to keep looking, now in fact, for I understand you will not be going anywhere today. Rest."

Sebastian turned to leave and was not terribly surprised to hear the sound of a shattering teacup behind him. The carpet was littered with splinters of china, Ciel's hand leaning off the mattress in a downward thrust.

"Clean it up," Ciel spat. His mouth fidgeted between a frown and smile, testing the man.

Then Sebastian said something he had never said to a master, something he didn't even know he was capable of saying. "No, young master. I am not going to."

"Then you violate the contract!" Ciel snarled.

Sebastian shook his head. "I don't. I do not have to follow certain orders if I do not believe it is better for your well-being."

"How is leaving tea on the carpet better for my well-being?!"

"You need to learn," Sebastian said simply, "to behave yourself. And that's not going to start unless you take responsibility of your own actions."

Ciel glared at him again. "Well I'm not going to pick it up either."

"And so there it shall forever remain."

"You aren't the boss of me!"

"Then who is?" Sebastian asked meaningfully. "Because from your display over the past few days, I doubt that person is yourself."

Ciel grabbed at his scalp with both hands and screamed. "Fine! I don't care! Fine!" Sebastian flinched as Ciel flung himself off the bed onto his knees and snatched up the pieces into his palm, plucking haphazardly. After a few seconds, he thrust the few white chips he'd gathered out at Sebastian. "All right, I cleaned it up on my own! See? I can do these things!"

Ciel wasn't crying but his eyes did have a watery look to them that betrayed his frustration. Sebastian recognized the meaning for it. He even felt a bit unsettled to have such a face directed at himself. It was a face of hopeful fury, both daring and pleading for Sebastian to accept him for just what he was in this moment: a spoiled, atrocious, hurting, confused little horror.

"You should get back into bed," Sebastian said, not as a snappish command but a gentle suggestion. Ciel's expression blinked into surprise. Sebastian held out his palm. "Let me take those pieces from you before you cut yourself. I'll clean up the rest."

"No you won't." Ciel was still defiant but rapidly losing steam.

Sebastian answered steadily, "I will, because you aren't well enough to and I am. That is the reason, young master. That, and because it is my job. Nothing more."

After an unwilling beat, Ciel's posture slumped. He poured the pieces into his butler's palm and turned around and clambered slowly back into bed, folding the blankets around his legs with deliberation. He watched tentatively as Sebastian removed the rest of the shards from the carpet and patted the damp spot with a towel. It was quiet the entire time as both parties were cooling down.

Finally Sebastian stood, hand full of tiny teacup fragments. "If you want to drink alcohol, young master, you may have a single glass of wine with dinner as often as you like. But you will not drink most of a bottle by yourself again – at least not for many years, not until you can make that decision more rationally, and even then I don't advise it. It isn't becoming..." He trailed off. "And it isn't good for you. I think you learned that lesson for yourself today."

"Okay." Ciel had his knees pulled up to his face. He wasn't looking at Sebastian.

"Please, get some real rest now and I'll bring you something bland to eat. Let me know if I can fetch you anything else." Sebastian turned to go, leaving the trolley there within easy reach.

"Tomorrow."

Sebastian turned his head over his shoulder. "Tomorrow?"

Ciel nodded again. "Tomorrow I'll... be good. I'll get back to my paperwork."

"Oh? Will you?" Sebastian tilted his voice.

Ciel nodded once more, knees still covering his mouth and gaze still fixed dead ahead.

"I'm glad to hear that." Sebastian hesitated. "But even if you decide you won't... I will still be your butler."

"What? What's that supposed to mean? That's obvious," Ciel whined quietly.

"It means..." Sebastian wondered what he meant. He realized it too quickly. "It means that as ill-mannered and impossible as you behave, it isn't going to change the fact that I will still be here."

With another flinch of surprise, Ciel turned to his butler at last. The two studied each other pensively.

Eventually the boy dropped his gaze. "I won't drink that much again," Ciel said, downcast. "I didn't even like the taste very much. It was much too bubbly. It burned my throat and made me want to sneeze."

"You don't have to drink wine anymore if you don't want to." Sebastian returned to Ciel's side and poured him more tea. "Now, you should lie down. And with your willing permission, I will prepare the delayed documents and studies for you to begin tomorrow."

"Fine." After another few careful sips, Ciel put the cup aside, turned and pressed his face directly into the pillows. He muffled something into them that sounded like, "Thkks."

Sebastian had a guess at the secret message but still said, "Pardon?"

Ciel surfaced just a little. "Nothing."

"Very well. I'll return shortly with some honey toast for you, my lord."

Sebastian shut the door with quiet care behind him, not wanting to further disturb that nasty headache. He himself didn't fully recognize what had just passed, but he had a feeling Ciel would suddenly be easier to tolerate. And even if Ciel wasn't... somehow Sebastian felt he would at least be able to put up with it.

If you felt like Ciel was OOC, it's because I wanted him to behave more like a real fourteen-year-old than he usually does - in particular a fourteen-year-old with PTSD. This is going to surface especially in the next chapter.

If you felt like Sebastian was OOC at times and other times not, it means I've written this chapter successfully.

And if you enjoyed what you read, absolutely let me know! And if you didn't - let me know as well. Constructive criticism is welcome here.

I hope to see you again for chapter three!