With no mortal eyes watching, Sebastian moved nimbly through the surrounding woods towards the Midford manor, "like the devil was at his heels," some might say. Behaving as a demon always helped clear his mind from the mortality that boxed him in. For the first time that day, he felt able to think properly.

There were few humans that Sebastian found impressive in any right, and this contract alone had introduced him to a small handful. Francis Midford was one of these humans. She was a force to be reckoned with; her voice alone brought lesser men to cower (Bard, for instance). And having brought up two children, who were fierce in their own way but perfectly happy, no doubt she also possessed a maternal instinct in her bosom… erm, somewhere. Either way, she was more equipped to deal with this childish behavior than Sebastian. Ciel would have no choice but to obey his strictest family member, unless he wanted to embarrass himself by opposing her.

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow. Just thinking that had made him feel… something. He couldn't quite locate what it was, but he knew what it was in relation to, and he didn't like it. It was like worry, but not quite; pity, but not quite; and understanding it couldn't be, for Sebastian was a demon and the human experience was not his to know.

He had never wanted to know it either. He preferred to observe humans at a distance, like a biologist without a hypothesis. At arms' length from their emotions and suffering, that was where he stood, and happily so. Yet, all of a sudden, it was as if he'd taken a step closer to his test subject without meaning to, drawn in to its habits, as if forgetting this would ruin the experiment. Everything he'd worked for.

The meal.

Sebastian grinned subtly as he raced. He was not a biologist. He was a killer, and merry to be so.

On this dreary spring day, the English countryside was quiet. It was the end of March, and the social season had weeks yet to truly begin. Ciel did not like that time of year. He did not like to abide expectations, but he was still a member of polite society, and Lizzy had graduated from wanting to show off her latest dress to wanting to show off her fiancé. Yes, the social season would be good for Sebastian, even if it weren't for Ciel. The boy would be taken out of his house and Sebastian would be taken out of his position as Ciel's primary companion. Out to the flock, out of the fold, for a wolf in sheep's clothing is no substitute for a sheep.

As Sebastian let his inner compass guide him, his keen eyes detected movement miles away, departing from the Midford manor. He fell back into his butler mindset at that – was Lizzy coming to meet Ciel out of the blue? No, it was not a carriage, but a single man on horseback. Thank goodness – a spontaneous visit might only dig Ciel deeper into himself. He had considered his own trip to the Midford's enough of an emergency that he need not announce himself prior, but perhaps something was amiss for their family as well.

Sebastian dropped below the trees and proceeded to walk at a mortal's pace down the semi-groomed paths of London's backwoods. Minutes later, the rider appeared and Sebastian flagged him down. He recognized the man, though he did not know his name, and the young fellow clearly recognized Sebastian back as he slowed the horse to a gentle gait. He wore the attire of a footman and couldn't hide his surprise to see an esteemed member of the Phantomhive staff walking to the Midford estate as if it were no more than a stroll.

"Mr. Michaelis!" the footman cried, hopping off his horse and bowing his head politely. Sebastian wasn't sure if he should be impressed with the young man for recalling his name or with himself for being so memorable. "I was just riding to the Phantomhive manor to deliver a letter and here you are, all by yourself, no horse in sight! Goodness! Is something the matter?"

"Nothing of urgency," Sebastian decided to answer. "I'd like to ask you the same thing."

"Nothing of urgency," the footman repeated. He reached inside his jacket and took out a letter, sealed with the Midford's wax stamp. "The house just received this for Master Phantomhive, to be delivered as soon as possible, we were told. It's merely an invitation though. The Midford family is currently visiting Master Edward at college. When they arrived, they discovered there's to be an early cricket match next week, and young Lady Elizabeth wanted to make sure Master Phantomhive knew about it, so that he might join them."

"Ah," said Sebastian. "So, they're not at home right now?"

"I'm afraid not," the footman said. "They didn't intend to be away for long, or else I'm sure they would've informed your house."

"I see." Sebastian put a hand to his chin. Well, that certainly didn't resolve the matter of the day. It would take too long to bring the marchioness back from her holiday to make the request worthwhile. Which meant Sebastian would have to deal with this after all…

"Mr. Michaelis?" The footman extended the letter. "Is there any sort of message you need us to regale to the marquis and marchioness? Is all well?"

"Well enough. If they are not home, it is of no trouble. I will make sure my lord receives the letter." Sebastian tucked the parchment into his own jacket as the footman politely nodded his leave. "Wait a moment. I have something to ask of you, if you aren't in a hurry."

The footman stepped forward obligingly. "Of course, sir."

"Firstly, were you raised by your parents or did you grow up in the manor?"

If the footman was puzzled by the arbitrariness of the question, he didn't show it. "Ah, both," he said, scratching at the back of his pearly blonde hair. "My father and mother, they both work for the Midfords. I was raised to help where I could, until I was old enough to have a proper position."

"Hmm. Then this may not apply, but… would there ever be a time when you were summoned by your parents and refused to come?"

The footman blinked at that. "I... Hmm. Not that I can think of."

"Never a time you were too ashamed to approach them about a mistake?" Sebastian tried. "Perhaps you broke something, or had been reckless?"

"Oh certainly I had broken things and was careless," the footman said with a smile, "but, you see, I was never too afraid to tell my father what I had done. He is a patient man to this day. When I made a mistake, he was the first person I would go to, because even if he were upset, he would always help me make things right again."

"… Is that so," Sebastian said quietly.

"I should hurry back to the manor now, if it's not a problem," the footman said, mounting the horse again. "Are you sure there's nothing you needed?"

"Never mind it." The butler turned on his heel. "I believe… we shall be able to handle things from here."

The young horse stamped impatiently and tossed his head homeward, and the footman turned to quell the beast. "What is it that needs to be handled?" he asked. When there was no reply, the footman glanced back around, only to see empty space behind him. Sebastian had already departed. It was as if he hadn't been there at all.

He did not knock. He did not scold. He merely called out, "My lord."

"Go away." The response was directly from the other side of the door. Ciel was still leaning against it, hopeful of barring the entrance, no doubt.

Sebastian kept his voice steady. "I am not going to go away."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Very well. You don't have to speak. But I will." Sebastian lowered his chin a fraction. "I am sorry."

It was silent, but only for a moment. "Why?"

"Because," said Sebastian, "I have been hearing you, but I have not been listening to you."

Ciel said nothing.

"I know something now," Sebastian continued. "I know why you are in your room."

The boy panicked. "What?! No! But how could you–? I told you not to–"

"It doesn't matter what it is, specifically." Usually he wouldn't interrupt, but this time it seemed necessary. "What I know now is that you are in your room because you are afraid of what we, Mr. Tanaka and I, will think of you. You are afraid of our disapproval."

Again, a wall of silence.

"I wanted to tell you," Sebastian said softly, "that I will not disapprove of you."

Silence.

"It does not matter what it is you have done. What matters is your health, and the knowledge that there is nothing you could do to lose our good graces."

"You don't know that."

"Do not forget what I am, young master." Again, his tongue swept his eyetooth reflexively. Perhaps he had grown a bit too used to flaunting his fangs at prior contracts. "Whatever has happened, I am certain to know worse."

"…" He heard Ciel stand up. "That doesn't mean you won't think of less of me."

"I will not think less of you."

"You can't prove that!" Ciel cried.

"I can," Sebastian said. "You are a human. No matter what has come to pass, you will still be a human. Nothing more, nothing less. And few know better than you and I what horrors humans are capable of. I cannot imagine any 'crime' you have committed today would compare."

Ciel gave no response but silence. A minute passed, two, in this way. Then Sebastian's gaze flicked back to the door when beyond it, light as a doe's step, Ciel's feet padded across the carpet and over to his bed, and there was a rustle as he folded the blankets around him. Sebastian wondered if he was about to be dismissed again, when the muffled and delicate words were spoken: "Okay. You can come in."

Sebastian felt something in his chest relax as a temporary restriction of the contract was dropped. The door was no longer a barrier between he and his charge. The door was merely a door. So Sebastian brought his hand to the knob and opened it.

The room was not in disarray. It was a bit musty, from having the curtains drawn all day, and dim from not having the candles lit or the sunshine allowed in. There was an unmoving, Ciel-shaped lump beneath the white covers that was, to Sebastian's surprise, a bit of a relief to see. And there were his clothes unfolded on the floor by his bedside, as they usually were these days. Nothing else seemed to be out of place. Sebastian narrowed his gaze. So far there was no indication of anything amiss. So then why did Ciel seem to be hiding from him?

Asking likely wouldn't yield a response. Be patient, he found himself thinking. Watching and waiting has always been your game.

Sebastian withheld his tongueful of questions and, as odd as it felt, proceeded as normal. He drew the curtains to let in a waning spring sun, then lit the room's lamps too because darkness would not fall but a few hours from then. During all this Ciel scarcely stirred. Sebastian moved around to the other side of the bed and began to pick up yesterday's outfit from the floor. This would all have to be ironed thoroughly after washing, the young master's clothes looked best when perfectly creased… Sebastian restrained his usual sigh as he picked the garments off the floor. None of that mattered in the grand scheme of things, not the vest, or the shirt, or the, um… ah…

Ah.

"Young master," Sebastian said slowly, "did you… sleep in your clothes last night?"

The covers shifted as Ciel curled up more tightly. "Yes," he finally said, barely a whisper and hoarse with anxiety.

Well. Sebastian huffed out his nose. This was… a surprise, to say the least, but also an entirely small matter. Nothing more than a mark. Though the sheets would have to be changed as well, and he should get these trousers soaking immediately, but… well, it could wait, it had already waited all day. Ciel was clearly feeling some sort of shame about this, as small a matter as it was. The young master had never wet the bed before, but this was different, this was a mark only an adult could make, and Sebastian realized then that Ciel was likely at the age where he would make this mark for the first time.

But oh, had it really been worth all the fuss?

"Young master," Sebastian said, warming his tone, "this is what you were hiding in your room for all day? Skipping meals over and barricading the door?"

Ciel flinched again but didn't speak.

"There isn't anything wrong with you, you know. It's quite normal for… this to happen when you sleep. Especially around your age."

The boy's voice was small when it finally spoke. "I don't understand why…"

Sebastian waited for him to finish his sentence, but that was apparently all he had to say. Even after perusing those anatomy books, perhaps Ciel didn't yet know what this was. Sebastian tried to explain things as delicately – and politely – as possible. "Well. I imagine you had this response because of a… a dream you were having." He coughed. "A… good dream. I suppose. In any case–"

"But I wasn't having a good dream!"

Again Ciel's voice went to that panic place it had been most of the day. His head and shoulders had lifted under the sheets when he shouted, but fell again a moment later. "I don't understand… I was having a nightmare… That's why I was… But I don't know why…" Another block of silence. Then Ciel's words seemed to tumble out. "They were torturing me, like they were before, with hot knives and hot wax, and I was shouting for someone to help me but no one would come, and it felt real, it felt like I could smell my skin burning, and it lasted so long, when I woke up I didn't know where I was at first, even though it was just this room… and then… I was like that, I had done that, and I don't even understand why, because it was such a terrible dream, but if… if that was my response then doesn't it mean I was happy? Doesn't it mean I enjoyed it, somehow? How?! Am I some sort of twisted lunatic?!" Ciel smacked his fists against the mattress. "What the hell is the matter with me, Sebastian?!"

The shape under the covers shook with fear of itself, the juxtaposition of the dream and his body's response to it bringing his own sanity to question. What normal person would derive pleasure from such a disturbing experience? All these years later, did it turn out there was actually some part of him that had enjoyed the endless suffering? And what did that say about him, about his future? What would everyone around him think, if they knew the truth? Those were certainly the questions that had been swirling in Ciel's mind all day, questions that leaked venom and kept him from reaching out, leaving him to face his shock and terror alone.

"Young master."

Ciel did not speak.

"Young master, there is nothing the matter with you."

"How can you say that?" the boy choked. "You don't mean it! You can't mean it, you're just saying that so I'll get out of bed and get on with things, but I can't pretend it didn't happen! I'm so disgusted with myself, I can hardly think! How am I supposed to keep going on like everything's fine when I know this about myself?!"

Sebastian took a step forward. "Young master, please. There is nothing the matter with you."

"Shut up!" Ciel knotted the mattress cover in his hands. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! You know you're not supposed to lie!"

"Would you like me to tell you you're awful?" Sebastian said. "To tell you that these aspects of your behavior outside of your control are your fault? That you should have done something about which you could have done nothing?"

"I don't know!" Ciel sounded close to tears.

"What I think," said Sebastian, more softly now, "is that you are at a strange time of your life, and that it is making you feel confused and angry. I think you had a lot of tension inside of you, because you haven't felt at peace in a while. There is turmoil, from within and without." I've been a part of that, Sebastian recognized, whether or not I meant to be. He pressed on. "Then, on top of that, you had a nightmare about your past, a vivid one. Your body's response was to relieve some of that tension. And I understand why that was frightening for you. My hypothesis, however, is that there is no correlation."

Ciel sniffed. "But what if there is?"

"Your feelings toward all of this are enough of an indicator, I believe," Sebastian said. "You've been unable to approach anyone all day, so heavy was your guilt. I think that is the strongest argument that you are not possessed by your trauma."

The chirping of the evening swallows filled the void that came next. Under the covers, Ciel shifted his weight. "I… don't feel so well."

Sebastian smiled almost imperceptibly. "Understandably so. You haven't eaten in nearly a day, and I don't suppose you slept soundly."

Ciel sighed. "Mnn."

"My lord," said Sebastian. "You are not quite yourself these days."

"I know." There was a minor note of frustration in the boy's tired voice.

"Might I make a proposition?"

"Whatever."

"I would like to suggest," Sebastian began, "that you take a holiday."

The boy's head perked up beneath the sheets. "What?"

"I've just received this letter," said Sebastian, deciding not to reveal the circumstances of how. "Miss Elizabeth and your aunt and uncle have invited you to join them in Oxford, as they are visiting Master Edward at Weston College. I was informed they thought they would only be staying for a few days, until they discovered an early cricket match was to be held. My opinion, sir, is that you ought to take a break from your studies and work to spend time with your family. I believe their company will do your spirits some good."

"… Maybe it would." Ciel coughed. "I really don't feel well, Sebastian…"

Sebastian took a step forward. "In what way, my lord?"

"I think I've made myself sick without food." Ciel hesitated. "And I still… about… I…" The boy's face pressed into the mattress. "I don't know if I'm burning up with fever now or… I feel… completely stupid…" His head jerked up again. "What have the other servants said? They can't know. Damn it, Sebastian, if you tell them–"

"I would never say a word, if you did not wish me to," Sebastian said. "They have been nothing but worried about you, particularly Mr. Tanaka."

"Don't tell him either," Ciel rushed, voice strained, "I wouldn't be able to stand it, if any of them knew… I already hate myself enough as it is."

There, again, Sebastian felt that stirring inside him, saying he must now reassure and tend to the boy in this moment of self-deprecation. No… there was no need to give in to further kindnesses. He had already done more than was necessary for a butler. Ciel would soon see his family: they would provide the nurture to this tormented nature. "Young master, take the time now to rest yourself. I will bring you something warm to eat swiftly and, if you feel it possible, perhaps a bath afterwards."

"Perhaps."

Sebastian put a knuckle to his chin. "Young master, are you still too ashamed to come out from the covers?"

"…" The silhouette beneath the sheets twitched. Caught.

"You know you will have to emerge eventually."

"Obviously." The voice tried to be defiant but wasn't quite convincing. A bit of deep gray hair peeked out. "I don't need you to tell me that."

Sebastian chuckled a bit. "How strange it is, to see you for the first time today at such a late hour."

The head tucked itself away. "Hmph."

Ah, he'd only frightened the fox back into his den. "Come, now. I only meant it was different from the usual. If you cannot face me, how can you expect to face anyone else?" Still no movement. "Young master, please, you may as well get around to accepting it. This is not the last time this will happen to you, I imagine. Though I have little knowledge from prior contracts in such matters, I don't believe you will ever fully understand why it happens either. I don't believe the subject of the dream must necessarily be… connected, for you to respond in kind."

"… It doesn't?" Finally a bit of interest entered the boy's tone. "So… what you're saying is, it didn't have to mean anything?"

"To my knowledge, not at all. Either way, it isn't odd for this to happen. Eventually you would need to have this conversation – if not today, in another year or so." Though, frankly, Sebastian had hoped it would be Ciel and his uncle talking about this instead. "So then, please do take solace in this fact."

Ciel had slowly been peeking his way out of the covers at this little speech, and he sat up pondering it without seeming to realize he was out in the open. He was still in his long pajama shirt, which did not hang haphazardly off one shoulder, as it might have when he was younger and slimmer of frame. His hair was limp, his face pale, Sebastian noted. And, with a sudden gurgle alighting the air, clearly very hungry. Ciel clutched his stomach with a blush.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Sebastian chuckled, as if he weren't the most unfitting being to extend such an invitation.

Ciel glanced down at his hands, which clutched the top sheet. "Thanks."

The response was unexpectedly soft and methodical – and grateful. Sebastian felt unsettled by it. "I suppose you'll be wanting some dinner, now, won't you, young master? I imagine what you want is something very sweet, but it would be best to be gentle with your stomach. It is easy for a human's body to believe it is starving, if it goes long enough without food."

"Yeah." Ciel nodded meekly. "Maybe some bread and soup would be good. Do you think?"

Sebastian hesitated. "Yes… I was just about to suggest such a thing."

"And then if I'm able to eat that, I can have something more?"

"Y-Yes, sir," Sebastian stuttered in the face of obedience.

Ciel nodded to himself again. "That'll do."

"Very good. Then I will go about preparing it at once." Sebastian turned to leave, suddenly feeling akin to a trapped rat.

"Sebastian?"

Pausing his exit was the most impossible command to obey. "Yes, young master?"

"I really mean it, don't tell anyone about this. Not my family either." Ciel sighed. "I think you're right. I think I need a break from everything. I feel confused. I don't know who I am these days. I feel angry about things that I used to accept… Like I used to think that being kidnapped was just something that happened to me, plain and simple, and now it makes me so angry that I want to break things. I'm mad at my parents, and they aren't even alive anymore. Isn't that stupid? Even saying this makes me feel stupid. How can I be angry at someone who's dead? But I think that's what makes it even worse. I want to yell at them and they won't even hear me! I want to make them angry too but they aren't even alive to be angry!" Ciel's voice cracked on the last syllable and he stopped talking abruptly.

Sebastian didn't turn around; if Ciel were crying, he didn't want to know about it. "It's been a very long day for you, young master. You will feel better after you eat something."

"Y-Yeah. I suppose." Ciel was barely able to keep his voice composed.

"I'll be back shortly with food. Rest well, sir."

As soon as Sebastian closed the door behind him, he let bewilderment overtake his features.

It was sympathy he felt stirring in his rib cage like a wicked potion. Sympathy! In him, a demon! That he could even name it was truly a devastation… and yet, that is what it was! Sympathy, for a human! For his prey! Where was this coming from? Why did it blossom in him now? He had been right to escape the bedroom before it latched onto him fully. There was no way he could allow Ciel to see it etched in his eyes.

Sebastian could think more clearly when he was not in the boy's presence. This ended now. Ciel was going to join his family in Oxford. Sebastian was going to tell the marchioness all about Ciel's behavior (at least, what he hadn't been barred from revealing). The Midfords would take over the role of caring for Ciel's emotional needs, and Sebastian could default to the formal butler he'd always been. Yes, that was it. Ciel's new behavior had forced him into the position of a wet-nurse. He was merely responding in kind to his charge's desires. All he had to do was delegate the task to someone else, and then he could get his brain back.

There were men who raised lambs for slaughter and men who raised lambs for wool. Sebastian was not cultivating this soul just so he could leave with his arms full of yarn. Let the shepherds raise the lamb. The butcher could not afford to let his blade falter.

"Mr. Michaelis! Did the young master allow you in his room just now?"

Tanaka, again, broke the thinking spell. Sebastian smoothed his features in a heartbeat as the gentlemen hurried the rest of the hall's length to him. "Indeed, yes, I was allowed in at last," Sebastian said. He began walking to the stairwell to steer Tanaka out of Ciel's earshot, even with the bedroom door closed. "I apologize; I'm not permitted to elaborate on my conversation with the master. All I can tell you is that he is quite well, albeit hungry. I can at the very least reveal that there were memories of his past haunting him today. But I think he's going to be fine, from here on."

Tanaka nodded solemnly, then grinned at Sebastian and put a hand on his shoulder. Sebastian restrained a cringe at the gesture. "So you see, even after all your bickering, he has still chosen you as his confidante. You should be flattered."

"… I suppose," Sebastian mustered. "I do believe he already considered me a confidante of sorts, however."

"Oh yes, when it came to his work," Tanaka said, smiling with his eyes, "but I imagine today involved a matter most delicate, one closer to the heart, and you were chosen to handle it. That speaks volumes about how he sees you, you know." The old man sighed with relief and nostalgia. "The late master, when he encroached on adulthood, was away at school with other boys his age… I'm sure he learned much from watching the upperclassman about what to anticipate, other young gentlemen to question when he was confused. But Ciel has no such privilege. This will likely be far from the last time he requests you as a guide."

A demon? Guide a human child through adolescence? What an utterly rich notion. It would have been laughable, had Sebastian not found himself in the position of said 'demon guide.' One may as well have the blind lead the blind. No, no, no; this wouldn't do. Ciel must be immediately dissuaded from considering Sebastian as anything more than his second-in-command. The preparations for the trip to Oxford would begin posthaste.