Chapter Seven

The walk back to the ward was indescribable. Tense couldn't begin to cover it.

Ciel once again led the way, his usual aloof composure returning the larger the distance between them and The Room grew. Sebastian kept having to readjust Joker in his arms, the not-small man continually struggling and trying to reach out to Ciel's back, throwing Sebastian distrustful glances. Sometimes it was like Joker didn't even recognise him, and Ciel kept having to explain that Sebastian was helping him before Joker would quieten again.

Eventually the injured man fell into a fitful slumber, and they could quicken their pace.

They were more than half-way back when Ciel sighed, "Go ahead."

A part of Sebastian was disturbed that the boy could read him so well after so little time. A bigger part was just relieved to be able to ask what he was certain was an unwelcome question.

"Have you ever been in The Room?"

Of course, he was rather proud to admit that he was learning, at least a little, to be able to read Ciel too. The way the already little amount of colour in Ciel's face drained away, the way his fingers clenched into fists, the hesitation as he carefully thought his answer out, Sebastian spotted them all.

"...I was. Once, a long time ago," the one-eyed boy eventually answered after much deliberation.

"What did you do?"

To that, Ciel gave a derisive snort.

"I don't even remember. I don't remember why they put me in there, how long I was there, or even what they did to me. All I can remember was that it was Dr. Faustus who came and got me out. It was the only time I was glad to see the creepy son-of-a-bitch."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ciel frowned. Between Alois and Freckles, he was picking up a right dirty mouth.

Sebastian snickered, somehow pleased that his companion shared the same sentiment about the bespectacled man. Humour left him quickly as he contemplated his next question.

"Why... mirrors? It certainly wasn't what I was expecting."

Ciel glanced back at him, eyebrows raised.

"Really? What exactly were you expecting?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. Spiked coffins, stretching racks, thumbscrews, that kind of thing."

"Don't be silly. They keep those in the basement."

Smirking like that, it was hard to tell whether Ciel was joking or not. The boy certainly did seem to have an odd sense of humour.

"Think of it this way, Sebastian. When you look in the mirror, what do you see?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"Yes, but answer it anyway."

"Alright. I see my reflection."

Ciel nodded, "And how long do you usually look in the mirror?"

"Usually just in passing, I suppose."

"So you only look long enough to check your hair, then."

Again with the hair cracks. Just because Sebastian actually brushed his hair, unlike a certain someone.

"I suppose so."

"Next time you look in the mirror, Sebastian, I suggest you look a little longer. The longer you're forced to look at yourself, the more you begin to see... and you don't always like what you see," Ciel finished, his voice trailing off into silence. He looked thoughtful, and Sebastian held his tongue against any other questions. It was rare enough the boy answered any to begin with, so he decided to not push his luck. If he had to take a guess, Sebastian figured that Ciel was thinking about what he saw when he looked at himself, and he didn't look pleased.

Sebastian slept on a bed of nails the next few days.

He'd let a patient out of the ward.

He'd gone behind his superiors backs and taken another patient out of his punishment.

The use of his keycard was registered on every last door they'd gone through, and there had been many.

Yet, regardless of his worries, nothing happened.

When they'd gotten back to the ward, morning well on its way, Ciel had instructed Sebastian to take Joker into his room. After Joker was settled into Ciel's bed, Ciel had virtually dragged Sebastian back to the leisure room and set up the chessboard. However, he didn't put the pieces in their starting positions, but scattered all across the board. Shortly after, Angela had arrived. Her gaze had lingered a second too long on Ciel's shirt, more specifically the tear at the bottom, and Sebastian's heart had jumped up his throat. Beneath the table, Ciel's foot pressed against his own, a wordless command to act natural. Angela didn't say a word, greeting them both with her usual icy smile, and everything had gone on like natural.

Sebastian returned to his regular shift the next day, almost running to the ward. To his surprise, everything was normal. Normal for St. Victoria's anyway. Joker was sitting on the couch, all laughing and all grinning as always, surrounded by the rest who didn't fuss over him, just bantered as they always did. His mutilated arm was hidden beneath the long sleeve of his shirt, but the skeletal hand peeked out from the cuff. No one stared at it, patient nor staff, and Joker himself didn't appear bothered that one of his hands was nothing more than dead weight.

The normality of the situation was enough to drive Sebastian himself mad.

Relief came with the arrival of Ciel, shockingly emerging from his room entirely of his own free will. Freckles' head snapped up at the creak of his door and their eyes met, and silently she mouthed thank you, Smile. That was enough for Sebastian to know that that night had happened, regardless of how much every damn person there was pretending it hadn't.

Ciel approached him with that self-imposing swagger, a slight smirk playing about his lips, "Fancy a game?" However, much to Sebastian's surprise, it was not a chessboard he held in his hands, but a deck of cards.

"Gin rummy?" Sebastian suggested, following Ciel over to their usual chairs, away from prying ears.

"Nonsense. We play poker, it's the only decent card game," Ciel responded, tone almost offended at the prospect. Of course, Ciel dealt, and of course, Sebastian lost spectacularly. It was almost impressive just how good Ciel was at the game, putting even his prowess at chess to shame.

"There was a heartfelt reunion yesterday, when Joker woke up. They all congregated in my room, and that bloody Dagger kept pawing at my stuff, then they all started bawling. I had to leave lest I threw up," Ciel stated in a murmur, shooting a glare in Dagger's direction.

"What a heart-warming sentiment, Ciel."

"I can't stand it when people cry. It's annoying and the noise is just... urgh," apparently there wasn't an adequate enough word for Ciel's repulsion at the show of emotion.

Sebastian snickered.

It occurred to Sebastian that night that he hadn't handed in his two-weeks notice. When his suspicions of the Institute began, a voice in the back of his head whispered that he should get out of there before it was too late. Seeing what was done to Joker, remembering how bedraggled Alois had been when he'd returned from The Room, and Ciel's own loss of composure at the prospect of being near the place, just imagining what had been done to them was enough to confirm his suspicions and more. So why was he still working there? The insanity must have been contagious because he had to be mad to still want to work in that place.

The first thing Sebastian had thought when he'd come to England was how dull the place was. Oh, how wrong he'd been proven. He'd been so bored in all his jobs, looking for a thrill, and here it was, in St. Victoria's Institution, maybe even in a certain blue-haired patient.

If one thing had come from that night he and Ciel had saved Joker from The Room, besides the knowledge of what the place could do, it was some sort of change in his and Ciel's relationship. He couldn't even name what exactly was changed. A growing trust, a camaraderie, something. After that day, Ciel came out of his room during the day much more often. Most of the times they played games, from card games to board games, sometimes word games like riddles and tongue-twisters. Unfortunately, no matter what the game, Ciel was still the reigning champion, but he was determined to usurp the smug little brat. Sometimes they didn't even play games; they talked, about random things, the staff, the patients, sometimes Ciel quizzed him about outside the asylum, and during those times there was an almost childish glee in his voice and face that betrayed his true age.

The next month passed without incident, but Sebastian didn't allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. The month had to it an air of calm before the storm.

"I turn my head, and you may go where you want. I turn it again, you will stay 'til you rot. I have no face, but I live or die. By my crooked teeth - who am I?"

Ciel sat back in what was acknowledged by everyone these days as his armchair, hands folded in his lap, smug.

Sebastian carefully kept the frown from his face, running through each line of the riddle. He almost had it when that bit- Angela came over.

"Sebastian, would you mind taking Ciel to the visitors room? He has a guest," she informed, as always striding off without waiting for an answer, so sure in her authority.

Sebastian blinked.
"There's a visitors room?"

"...You do work here, right?" Ciel stood from the chair, gesturing Sebastian to do the same, "Come on. The longer she has to wait, the more handsy she gets."

The two left the ward, and Ciel led Sebastian down several hallways and up a flight of stairs. He was almost running, and Sebastian had to lengthen his strides to keep up with the clearly anticipating boy. Not long after, they reached another door, and not two steps into the room, a blur of red pounced on Ciel.

"Oh no, you've gotten taller again! Keep this up and you won't be cute anymore!"

She was a vision in red; vivid hair, meticulous make-up, an extravagant dress and a hat almost as tall as the woman herself. She was a head taller than Ciel, and she squeezed him tighter against her chest, smirking as he struggled to escape her clutches.

"Why the hell - would I want to - be called – cute!" He finally pulled free, apparently unaware of the pout on his face that some would call cute.

The woman pulled Ciel across the room to sit at one of the many tables, annoying Sebastian as it was far beyond his range of hearing.

"So, how has my favourite nephew been?" Ann asked, chin resting on her hand, sending the boy a cheeky grin.

"I'm your only nephew," Ciel felt the need to point out, "And I've been as always."

"Oh dear, do cheer up, I've come all this way to see you! And I've got such fantastic news-"

"You're getting married," Ciel cut in, Angelina faltering.

"...How did you know that?" she cried out, appalled that her wondrous moment had been ruined. To be fair, she was aware that Ciel was hardly going to be beside himself with joy at the prospect, not too keen on the whole joy-thing in the first place. Still, she'd at least expected to be able to say it herself!

"The rock on your ring finger was something of a clue," Ciel stated, gesturing to the diamond she was sporting, "It's much more modest than I'd have expected, though. So, what's his name?"

"Arthur Wordsmith. You like him, he writes those murder mysteries that you read." The pride in her voice when she said that almost drew a smile from the boy.

"Him? Mm, he's quite talented. His latest work was enjoyable, though it began awfully slowly. Tell him to work on that."

Ann rolled her eyes, "I'll be sure to pass on the mess-"

"Congratulations, Auntie Ann," he said it so hastily, refusing to meet her eyes, as though if he didn't say it then he thought he never would, and Ann granted him a warm smile, seeing the old Ciel in that moment.

He was clearly uncomfortable, and as much fun as it was to watch her little nephew squirm, she decided to grant mercy. Ruffling around in her pockets, she glanced over at the unfamiliar Orderly by the door, "Lizzie wanted me to give you this."

Ciel glanced back up from the table at the envelope in Ann's hand. She began to think that maybe he wouldn't take it, imagined the girl's face if she had to give it back to her, but then it was snatched from her grasp, tucked away in the hem of his pants, "Right. Thanks."

Ann stared at her nephew for a long time.

"Something is different with you. Did something happen? Something good, I hope."

Ann resisted the urge to rub her eyes in disbelief as a ghost of a smile passed over Ciel's face, not missing the flicker of his eyes over to the strange man, "You could say that."

He was one hour, forty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds late. Not that Ciel was counting.

To think he'd actually gotten out of bed, and the man had the cheek to not even show up for work. There was certainly something to be said for professionalism there!

Ciel huffed beneath his breath, throwing his legs over the armrest and folding his arms across his chest. Was Sebastian sick?

"...You didn't even think that move through, did you?" Ciel sighed, exasperated, as Alois just shoved his rook across the board.

Honestly, he was so bored he was actually playing chess with Alois, for Christ's sake.

"Sure I did! How else would my hand have knew to move it?" Alois stuck his tongue out at Ciel childishly.

Ciel just huffed again, apparently not noticing he kept doing it, though it certainly didn't escape Alois' notice. It was quite funny to see Ciel so worked up. It definitely was a rare sight, after all.

Half an hour later meant that Sebastian was exactly two hours, seventeen minutes and nineteen seconds late, Ciel was pretending he wasn't sulking despite the severely jutted out bottom lip, and Alois was playing war with the chess pieces.

Ciel was just grateful the blond hadn't progressed to licking them yet. Disinfectant was rather hard to get his hands on.

"Ciel? A minute?" Out of freakin' thin air, Sebastian was suddenly at Ciel's side, startling the younger boy. Rather than getting up, Ciel just gave Alois a look, and Alois started huffing exaggeratedly as he sauntered away, muttering something that sounded distinctly like bros before hos.

"Where've you been?" Ciel asked, failing to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Sebastian took Alois' vacant seat, a slight smirk playing about his lips, and pushed something across the table to him.

"Bard allowed me to borrow his kitchen. Shockingly, food can in fact be made there. Someone should inform him," Sebastian stated offhandly, watching Ciel's face carefully.

Ciel Phantomhive may have been isolated from society for a good portion of his years, and those years he had been subjected to Bard's delicacies, but he still knew what pastries looked like and he'd be damned if that wasn't a caramel choux bun sitting on the table before him.

Sebastian blinked as the cake disappeared, the only evidence of its existence being the cream Ciel was quickly licking from his fingers.

"...That... was actually good. You... can cook?" The disbelief in the boy's voice was almost offensive.

"Technically you bake cakes, but I get your point. You liked it then?" The nervousness, a very small amount of nervousness!, that floated about him as he waited for Ciel's answer was very annoying.

Ciel blinked over at him.

"Yes, I did. You are aware that you've gone and made yourself my baker now, right?" he said matter-of-factly, and Sebastian gave a small laugh.

"I suppose I have. Happy Birthday, Ciel."

Ciel blinked again, and confusion flickered through his visible eye before he nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks."

Sebastian couldn't help noticing that it was like he'd completely forgotten that day was his birthday.

When Claude Faustus looked at you, really looked at you, he saw everything. When he was in session with someone, he always took his glasses off, shedding the only defense the patient had between them and those piercing amber eyes. He saw your past, your present, maybe even your future though he wouldn't be likely to share those secrets. He saw every little fault, all of the smallest discrepancies of your person. He saw your likes and dislikes, your dreams and your nightmares. He knew the fears that haunted your minds and he was on speaking terms with all your inner-demons. Claude Faustus saw everything.

At least, that was what Alois Trancy believed.

He liked it when Claude looked at him. Claude knew how dirty he was, but he still looked at him.

"Why haven't you been taking your medication, Alois?" What he liked best about Claude was his voice. It was so soft, it was always like he was murmuring, like every word between them was a secret that only they would know. His voice was so very comforting.

Not today, though, because Alois wasn't Alois today.

"Makes me feel sick," the blond responded in a whisper, looking away from those piercing eyes.

It had been a week since Alois had started refusing to take his pills, and he was acting differently. More quiet, more introverted. Everyone had noticed, particularly Dr. Faustus.

A part of Alois was thrilled by the fact.

"I don't think they do. I'd have noticed. I'm always keeping a close eye on you, Alois."

The thrill increased, the words sounding more intimate than they should have done.

"Liar. You only see me because you're looking at Ciel," Alois spat, not in the way his anger usually sounded, more disappointed, more hurt.

Claude set down his notebook and pen, meeting Alois' eyes in such a way that the blond couldn't have looked away no matter how much he may have wanted to.

"It's the other way around, Alois. It's you I see."

Hope bloomed like a flower in Alois' chest, the petals unfurling with every sweet word Claude granted him. Heat rose in his cheeks, and he willed himself to look away, not to be caught in the web Claude easily wove.

The older man stood from his chair, slowly stepping around his desk and towards the seated boy. As he stood before him, Claude dropped down to kneel, a hand resting on each of Alois' knees. His grip was tight, comforting, but Alois couldn't stop the voice in his head that was saying that Claude's face was just as emotionless as always.

"Alois," his words were a breathy whisper, and with each one he drew closer, "I want you to get better. Just think; when you're better, I can take you away from here. It'll just be you and I. You want that, don't you? You want us to be... together, right?"

The door clicked open, but Claude grasped Alois' chin firmly before he could turn to see who it was.

The hope was replaced by panic as the newcomer handed something to Claude.

"Close your eyes." Claude's breath fanned across his face, warm and familiar.

"N-No."

For a second, Claude's mask slipped, and there was a look of hurt that cut deep into Alois, "You trust me, don't you?"

And Alois, still clinging to that smallest shred of hope that he felt whenever Claude looked at him, really looked at him, did trust the man, and he let his sapphire eyes close.

Soft lips pressed tentatively against Alois' and he let out a small gasp of surprise. Claude took this as invitation to explore deeper, lips no longer tentative, tongue sliding into Alois' mouth.

For that single moment, the hope was granted, and if Alois hadn't wanted to cry so much he would have laughed at his own sheer stupidity.

God knows how many pills Claude forced down his throat through the pseudo-kiss, but when the tongue left his mouth and the lips pulled away, Alois was already slipping into darkness. Just before everything went black, he saw that the other person had been Hannah, but... he must have been really out of it already, because it almost looked like she had two eyes.

"Hello, Jim. Welcome home," the unfamiliar woman greeted with a plastic smile, holding the door open for the small blond. Jim didn't respond, just slid past her and into the manor house. Everything about the place screamed cliché, with the rich red rugs and the wall-hangings that told stories the owner of the place probably hadn't bothered to learn. Who needed to learn when they were born with a silver-spoon in their mouth?

The woman who'd opened the door stumbled after him, flustered, "W-wait! I need to show you to the Master's room!"

Jim paused, glancing back at the woman with a look in his eyes that froze her in her tracks, "I know perfectly well where that man's room is," and he continued on his way.

With every step bringing him closer to that hated man, Jim thought. Thought and thought and thought yet could find no product from his thoughts. There was no answer in his mind, no plan, no nothing.

He'd hoped he would never have to walk these halls again.

Goddamit, Luka.

He didn't knock, though that was what he'd always been taught to do when in the house of his better. He didn't view this scum as his better, anyway.

The man was obscene, in every way. Obscenely overweight, obscenely dressed, obscenely perverted. One could truly lose faith in humanity when one looked upon such a 'person'.

"Where is Luka?" Jim barked as soon as he crossed the threshold, not wanting to waste any more words than he had to on the animal. The man, lounged across the bed, was covered by nothing but a thin sheet, and it did little to protect Jim's young eyes.

"He's alive," was the only answer the blond was given, the man patting the bed in clear invitation.

They both knew how this would go, no words were necessary.

It had been foolish of Jim to run. Now Luka was suffering for his older brother's foolishness.

Jim wouldn't let him suffer if he could stop it, even if that meant that no amount of showers could clean him.

Dirty fingers trailing across his skin, disgusting lips touching everywhere, his body invaded with no mercy.

He ordered Jim to moan, moan like the little whore he was, and Jim complied, hating himself a little more with every sound he forced past his bitten and bloodied lips.

Every time the man was done, he'd ask, "Where is Luka?", and the man would promise he was alive, promise that if Jim behaved he'd tell him.

Every night, Jim lay down and closed his eyes, blocked out the pants and groans above him, and thought of their village. Thought of returning there with Luka, to live with the nice lady who sometimes gave them food when she could spare it. Jim would get clean eventually, and he could watch little Luka grow up and make sure no one ever touched him the way that man was touching him, and-

"I want Luka now! No, don't touch me! I said now-"

-then they'd go to school like normal kids, make friends and play fun games, it'd be nice to be married some day too-

"You promised me! You promised he was alive!-"

-if he ever did get married, it would be to a woman like the nice lady from the village. She had such pretty eyes, that was what Luka always said. Or maybe to someone like the man who came to the manor and promised to take him away to a better place-

"Why? Why? Why? How could you? H-He-"

-the man who cleaned up all the blood and got rid of that man's body and when he asked to be called Alois the man didn't ask questions and took hold of his hand and wiped away the tears, led him away from the bad place-

It was night when he finally woke up, tucked up in his own bed, back in the ward. Someone had turned on the night-light Agni had managed to sneak into the ward for him, a dull yellow light splashing across the room, chasing away the shadows.

His stomach twisted painfully, a pounding behind his eyes fierce enough that spots danced across his vision. Those damn pills made him feel so damn sick. He should have known what Claude was going to do; it wasn't the first time he'd resorted to such methods to get Alois to do what he wanted. Yet Alois knew he wouldn't have pulled away even if he'd seen the pills in Claude's hand. For a second, he got to pretend.

His throat tightened, a burning in his eyes that had nothing to do with the headache, and-

"Oi, Jim, if you start crying, I swear to God I'll lose any little respect I may have for you," a voice suddenly spoke up, startling the blond. Tearing his eyes from the wall he'd been having a staring contest with, he looked to the side of his bed.
Ciel frowned down at him, turning the page of his book, shifting around in the plastic chair to try and get more comfortable.

It was definitely past curfew, which meant Ciel was locked in with him. He'd been here since before curfew then? Waiting for him to wake up?

Alois gave him a watery smile, "Then I'll just have to earn that respect back later, won't I?"

Ciel didn't offer any words of comfort as Alois descended into gut-wrenching sobs, tears falling shamelessly down his cheeks, burrowing his face into the pillow to try and muffle the sound he knew Ciel hated. Ciel didn't rush to hug him like other people would, didn't tell him that everything was going to be alright. That was one of the unwritten rules for St. Victoria's patients; never say everything will be alright. It's nothing but a patronizing lie. Instead of those things, Ciel continued to read his book, reaching out a hesitant hand and threading his fingers through Alois' hair.

Luka used to stroke his hair too.

It might have been minutes or hours later when Alois' cries degenerated into hiccups, then eventually just deep breathes. Ciel continued to pet the blond's head until he was sure the crying fit was over, and then he closed his book, looking expectantly to his friend.

"Claude kissed me," Alois finally shared, almost wary to meet Ciel's gaze.

Ciel didn't even try to hide his disgust, the urge to wash the hand he'd petted Alois with so obvious that the blond almost laughed.

"I'll never understand your obsession with that doctor," Ciel stated, shaking his head.

Alois smirked.

"Probably something along the same lines as your obsession with that Sebastian."

"Dear lord, you must be mental. Obsession? Not even close-"

"It must be the same! 'Cause Ciel plays with him, and talks to him, and even listens when he talks back! And deny it all you want, but you blatantly trust him! Whatever's between you and Sebastian is the closest thing I think you can feel to what I feel for Claude-"

"Nonsense. He's my ticket out of this place, nothing more," Ciel replied adamantly, the look he gave Alois daring him to argue.

Alois gave a bark of laughter, "It's so cute that you've got yourself believing that!"

It was funny, how contradictory Ciel was without even realising. Ciel missed nothing, but when it came to himself, he was so very blind. Sebastian was his ticket out of the institute, he said? Yet he never denied being mad. Ciel was always so sure he belonged in St. Victoria's. Was he really intending to leave?

Alois suddenly felt ten-times sicker.

"Ciel... When you leave here... will... will you leave me too?"

Ciel looked startled, and it was obvious that he'd never even considered anyone else when making his escape plans. His mouth worked soundlessly for a while, before he just opened his book again, and Alois knew his answer.

He closed his eyes, only for a moment, but it ended up being hours, and it was daylight by the time he opened them again. The sound of a scraping chair was what woke him, and he opened his eyes to see Ciel's retreating back. It was starting to feel like he only ever saw Ciel walking away from him lately, to Sebastian and to freedom, and the urge to cry rose again.

Ciel paused by the door with his hand on the handle and said, without turning back, "I'm not going to hold your hand forever, Alois. You're a big boy... but I won't just leave you here either. That's a promise."

Ciel was just like a little cat, Alois sometimes thought. When he was awake, he was unapproachable to most, distant and cold. Of course, Alois knew better, but that was how Ciel liked to present himself. When he was asleep, though, Ciel was borderline adorable. Right now, he was curled up against Alois' side, head resting on his thigh, completely out of it. If he'd been awake, he'd have slapped Alois' hand away and sat up, embarrassed at having been in such a position.

Everyone, bar Drocell and Snake who had disappeared into Drocell's room an hour ago and had yet to emerge, was sitting in a circle in the leisure room. No Orderlies were about, Undertaker was holding some sort of training seminar for them, and none of the patients envied them that.

Freckles laughed so hard she wheezed, face ten shades of ten, "Fine! Fine! I'd... well, I'd kill Grell, cause the flamer is always calling me frumpy. I'd marry Ronald, he seems pretty fun. And I guess that means I..."

"Come on, you have to say it!" Dagger sniggered.

Freckles blushed even deeper if that was possible, before just throwing her hands up in defeat, "Ugh! Fine! I'd shag Will! Bet he's a hellcat in bed. Soma's turn! Um... Okay, how about Cantebury, Agni and Hannah?"

Soma didn't even pause to think, flashing Freckles a cheeky grin, "Can I shag and marry the same person?"

"No! You gotta choose!" Freckles pouted, but Joker just laughed, elbowing her in the side.

"Nonsense, Doll. Alls fair in love and war, y'know."

"Okay! Alois; Sebastian, Claude and... Angela."

Everyone unanimously groaned, they couldn't have done that again if they'd rehearsed.

"Kill Mangela," Alois stated without hesitation, "I'd glady fuck Claude! But Sebby's off limits, you know that."

Joker grinned, "Got that right. Smile's snagged that one for himself."

"I've got a pretty good idea what exactly they get up to during their midnight rendezvous~" Dagger sang, only to abruptly pout when Beast remarked, "That's an awful big word for you, bro."

Alois' hand was batted away from Ciel's mop of tangled hair, the boy shooting upwards after realising who exactly his pillow was. The air of annoyance he gave off was dulled by his sleepiness.

"Afternoon, sunshine," Dagger, apparently over his moment of woe, greeted with a wink, "Thought you were gonna sleep the day away."

"How could anyone possibly sleep through such painful stupidity?" Ciel grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Alois and Soma's eyes met over Ciel's head and they shared a conspiratorial smile.
Ciel's ears were bright red, the closest thing to a blush you got from the boy.

Ciel was finally getting to the half-decent part of his book when his bedroom door was pushed ajar, Alois slipping through the gap and pushing it shut quietly behind him.

"Out, Alois. I've surpassed my daily tolerance of you," Ciel snapped, still flustered over the conversation Alois had gone and started with the others before. Alois ignored his order, slowly making his way over to Ciel's bed and curling up on the bottom. Ciel frowned, the blond had been acting like usual before, he'd assumed the depression was passed.

The one-eyed boy went back to reading.

Alois would talk when he was ready.

It was an hour later that Alois finally spoke up, and Ciel wished he hadn't.

"Hey, Ciel... are you really gonna sleep with Sebastian?"

Ciel's ears burned red again, and he was thankful his long hair hid them from sight. With a scowl, he bit out, "Of course I'm not."

"...'kay."

Ciel wasn't fooled, and knew the topic wasn't closed. He stared at the words on the page, but didn't continue reading. A few minutes later, Alois spoke up again.

"...Would you sleep with him if it meant he'd take you away from here?"

"No." There was no hesitation, the answer was given as soon as the question was finished. "I will not let myself be used."

"Aren't you using Sebastian, though?" Alois pointed out, rolling over so that he was facing his friend but keeping his eyes closed.

Ciel rolled his eyes.

"This and that are two completely different things. Sebastian won't be harmed by anything I do."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, and Ciel was almost glad when Alois broke it.

"Ciel... I'm always honest with you, so just this once, be honest with me, 'kay? I need to know... Do you really like Sebastian?" Alois opened his eyes then, and the look was one so damn vulnerable that even Ciel was affected. He'd had the no ready on his tongue the second he heard the question, but when Alois looked at him like that, pleaded with him to tell the truth... there was no advantage to telling Alois the truth, but there was little disadvantage either.

Ciel thought long and hard before he finally answered, and Alois was grateful for that careful consideration.

"I... don't know. Sebastian is different in my view than the other staff like Ash and Faustus... but I don't know if it's the same type of different like it is for you and Faustus, or Soma and Agni," Ciel faltered, a strange frown forming on his face, and he was almost whispering now, "I'm not sure whether I'm capable of that."

Alois crawled down the bed towards him, careful, not touching, and tried to make Ciel meet his eyes, "You are capable of it, Ciel. You and me, we're the same. If I can feel this way, you definitely can. Listen, I... I see the way Sebastian looks at you. Heh, it's funny. You can't see it, and I'm pretty sure he can't, but everyone else can."

Ciel didn't respond, looking everywhere but at the blond.

"Ciel... do you want to be able to feel that way?"

Because that would be the biggest problem. Not whether Sebastian felt that way, nor whether Ciel felt that way, but if Ciel would let himself feel that way.

"No! I don't. I don't want it to be used against me. It's weak, Alois!" Ciel was almost shouting, face so torn that Alois just wanted to envelope him in a hug, "...you should go back to your room. It's almost curfew."

And Alois knew he'd pushed his friend a little too far today. For once, he didn't argue, just rose from the bed and walked to the door. A part of him wanted to just keep quiet, knew that it would be a lot better to just leave Ciel alone now, but he truly didn't want Ciel to feel like that.

"That's the point of liking someone, Ciel. You can be as weak as you want, and they'll... they'll be strong for you."

Ciel didn't answer, and Alois said no more on the matter.

"G'night, Ciel."