Author's Note: Although this wasn't exactly prompted by my usual set of circumstances, or written to the usual background sound of Igorrr (still named it as a trick on a song title), I still count this drabble as part of my Kuroshitsuji nightmare series because of how it came to be. I'll list the other fics below.

This isn't as horror-themed as the others, and yet it has its subtle flairs I'd say. I mean, being a child consciously aware of the fact you are dead is not exactly sunshine and rainbows. That's creepy material right there.

Disclaimer: Don't own Kuroshitsuji.

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The first thing he feels is not tiredness, or sleepiness, though it isn't an awakening awareness either. There is a light pressure, almost like a soft stinging, and then Ciel feels a warm tear gently sliding down the left side of his face, mirrored almost immediately by one on the right. His eyes are open, for a while now it would seem, though he does not see anything. Maybe he was asleep, or should have been asleep, but he doesn't feel tired, nor did he have any nightmares that would imply he had been asleep; why should he sleep, anyway? He's dead, or was dead, or is... something in between. Regardless, sleep feels like the most wasteful thing to do, and yet his body doesn't abide to command. When he blinks, the contours of his bedroom are blurried and watered off, the pale moonlight that lits the room is just stretches of muddled silver that clear out and gleam when another set of tears trip over the corners of his eyes.

Ciel's chest heaves as a gasp for air leaves him, a raspy and eerie sound that doesn't quite seem like his own voice. The second inhale is soundless, peaceful, and he blinks slowly. He doesn't feel tired or out of breath, he simply feels... he simply feels. And the first thing he does is smile.

"Undertaker," he calls without looking, without needing to confirm if he's there or not; he expects it now, has grown used to it, knows he's there.

"Welcome back, Earl."

Ciel turns his head on the pillow, finding Undertaker where he's always been this whole time. By his side.

"I saw my brother at last, Undertaker."

"I know, little Earl. At long last."

"Was he happy to see me? I was so happy to see him. I missed him so much." Ciel smiles again, gasps for air again, cries again. But now it's hard to breathe, and the tears are heavy, and the smile hurts. "I missed him so much."

"I know."

"Why can't I be with my brother, Undertaker? He's my little brother. I have to be by his side. I promised him I wouldn't leave him." God, it hurts, it hurts again, Ciel didn't miss this feeling at all. It's worse now, somehow, and once again God doesn't do anything to help, nor does Ciel himself. No, back then he just died, leaving his little brother all alone with that monster, and now he's just laying useless in this bed as if he's a sleepy toddler, as if he didn't have to do everything to get his brother back to him, if sleeping would have any use for someone who has died.

Frustration claws at Ciel's face as he tries against himself to stand up, or at least raise himself on his elbows, but it's no use, the straining makes weak and pathetic whimper-like sounds escape his lips and the needle buried in his arm seems to suck all strength from his muscles rather than pump them back alive, pushing him down back against the mattress before Undertaker even needs to try.

"You have to regain your strength now, Earl," Undertaker calls to reason as if he knew what Ciel is thinking. He tucks his arm under Ciel's nape and gently moves him back to a comfortable place on the pillows. Ciel feels like a doll, unable to move to help him on the task or to brush him off annoyingly, but this too is a familiar feeling, this too could so easily be a nightmare if only it weren't Undertaker who was holding and carrying him. So he just watches as Undertaker carefully makes sure Ciel's neck is well supported in the small pile of pillows, pulls and tucks the bedsheets back to place, all the while with so much care, so much... love.

"You've served my family for so long, haven't you?"

Undertaker smiles too, a mere shadow of his typical wide smiles though. Ciel had noticed it, how, in moments like this, when confronted with this, whatever it might be (weakness, frustration, pain, guilt), he's so uncharacteriscally somber.

Ciel doesn't like it. Doesn't want it.

"You have to rest," Undertaker answers instead, brushing away the tears still fresh on Ciel's face so gently and kindly, a gesture no one would dare do to a noble, a gesture Ciel wouldn't allow, but had grown used to, expected it, knew would be there. He brushed and fondled his hair softly, and if Ciel closed his eyes, he could almost feel as though it were Mother or Father that were here, that were making sure he was safe and protected. "Rest now, and in the morning everything will be better."

"You've looked out for us for so long, haven't you? Undertaker." Ciel breathes in, his smile slowly turning cold, sharp, dark, as he looks to his carer, his savior who brought him back to life. A servant, his servant, who failed. "Yet you let us die. My family. You let me die, and you let my brother bargain his own soul to a demon."

Although he hadn't moved, Ciel could now see Undertaker's eyes under his silver bangs, tired and hurtful eyes, and he sees pain raising in them, a heaviness building in the man's body that was clearly too much to bear, but he doesn't want to see that pain, he doesn't want to see the acknowledgement of the failures the servant had done. What did this idiot knew of pain? Ciel wants something done, now, he doesn't want to know if it is impossible or if Undertaker has feelings and burdens involved in this. Useless. Useless piece of shit garbage who was trying to pay up to his mistakes, and he bloody well should because he failed. Nevermind that Ciel was alive now, or in-between; he isn't perfect yet, he's prisoner to his own body's weakness and ailments, he's still puppeteered, he's held back from being with his brother, all because this carer, this protector of generations of Phantomhives failed to do what he was supposed to.

In the shameful silence that Undertaker instead gives as answer to Ciel, Ciel breathes in again. He blinks, fighting against the heaviness of his eyelids, fighting against the exhaustion he doesn't feel, and when he looks up again to Undertaker, he smiles again, the most soft and gentle of smiles.

"You will do anything for me, won't you? And my brother."

"Of course I will, Earl."

Ciel drags his arm over the bedsheet, holding Undertaker's hand that had been protectively laid near his chest.

"You will kill that demon, won't you? You'll make sure you don't fail this time, won't you?"

Undertaker moves his hand from Ciel's clasp and turns to his hair once more, brushing it softly again as if to smooth him back to sleep. He wants to say it's stupid, but his eyes feel so heavy it's as if the touch is a lullaby.

"I don't want to sleep, Undertaker. Why should I sleep? I don't want to. I have so much to do. I have so much to do."

"You need to rest a bit, Earl."

"You didn't answer me, Undertaker."

Again, there is silence, but Undertaker stands up and bends over him slowly, and Ciel feels the softest of kisses on his forehead. His eyes close, and it is as though everything is alright, and he's alive, safe, just falling asleep on his bed like every other night. He is numbly aware of the trickle that suddenly falls on his cheek, a tear that does not belong to him.

"Of course I will, my Earl."

And with promise of murder and revenge, Ciel falls into the in-between of slumber and death.

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おわり

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Author's Note: My other nightmares+Igorrr fueled fics, in case you have time and interest, are: 'Hardest/easiest choices', 'Nightmares', 'As real as the pain' and 'Et Dixit Dominus'.

Thanks for reading, reviews are welcomed.