Chapter Eight
It wouldn't open.
He'd been staring at the damn thing, willing the envelope to just burst open for what might have been hours now. It was still on the desk, where he'd left it a couple of days ago, somehow hoping it would disappear. Unsurprisingly, it hadn't. Figures. Things he wanted like his collectables and unread books vanished daily – if Gray really thought he didn't know it was him, he was an even worse psychologist than everyone thought – but that bloody letter was still lying there, taunting him with its unopenness.
Ciel heaved a sigh, a familiar throbbing behind his eyepatch that always reared its ugly head when he was stressing out.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't the letter that he was getting so bent out of shape over. Maybe it was easier to focus his irritation on the letter and its sender than on Alois and his idealistic words the other day.
He'd be damned if he was going to start listening to the blond psychopath now.
...And there he was, letting his thoughts crawl back to that conversation, again.
The letter wasn't going to open itself, Ciel finally relented. It should have done, because he wanted it to, but the world really wasn't working in his favour today. With the umpteenth sigh of the day, he rose from his bed and dropped into the deskchair.
He'd already cleaned his room, or at least rearranged the mess, twice. Every item on the desk apart from the letter had been moved, moved, moved again. All his books were in alphabetical order, his dozen identical clothes neatly folded.
Glancing around the room, he realized with a sinking feeling that there was actually nothing left to do but to read the letter.
The envelope only said 'Ciel' in her painfully familiar, even now, elegant hand. There was patches that were slightly off-colour, and somehow he knew she'd stuck little stickers there but thought better of it. He wondered if she had agonized over this letter as much as he was.
He tore open the envelope.
Dear Ciel,
Auntie Ann says that she'll give my letter to you. I hope she does, she's been so forgetful since she got engaged to Arthur. Speaking of which, I'm going to be a bridesmaid! I'll get a beautiful dress, new shoes, my hair done, the full works. The wedding is going to be the summer of next year, which will be nice, though I have to admit I'm a little disappointed. That means we'll have to wait a whole year! They should have the wedding in winter! What's more romantic than snow?
Do you still like the snow, Ciel? I wonder. We used to always play in the snow, though you'd always be mean and push ice down the back of my dress. At least until your chest starting getting bad. I think of you whenever it snows. Wondering if you can breathe all right. You always managed to lose your inhaler. It was lucky Auntie always carried an extra for you.
I think of you when it doesn't snow too. I've got a whole drawer full of letters I wrote, but never gave to Auntie. I'd read them when I was done writing and think how pointless they were. Meaningless ramblings about my day, about my friends whose names you don't know nor care to, about events that I'll have forgotten all about by the time you read about them. Those letters just seemed like they'd waste your time. Maybe one day I'll show them to you, when you come home.
You're probably wondering why I'm sending this letter if I didn't send any of the others. Remember when we were little, and our Mothers would joke about the day we'd get married, planning all the little details to make us blush, like the little snowflakes on the invitations, and my orchid-bouquet? They'd make us practice our waltz, because they wanted that to be our first dance, even though you could never quite get the hang of leading me. It was fun, wasn't it? Even when you stepped on my toes, I was having fun.
I'm engaged, Ciel. You probably don't remember him, you never had much of a head for names and faces. I can't show you his face, but his name is Leo Baskerville. He's very good to me, takes me dancing and out to fancy meals, buys me pretty things and treats me like a princess. I think I love him. You'd think he was an idiot.
For the longest time I put off setting the date. No one, even myself, understood why I was so adamant not to pick a day for the wedding. Then I realised. I said I'd wait for you, Ciel. Back then, when Auntie Ann came in tears and told me you wouldn't be coming home, I promised that I'd wait for you. I suppose a part of me, the part who didn't want to set the date, was still waiting for you. But I can't wait any longer, Ciel. It's funny, isn't it? A little girl always dreams of her wedding day. The big white dress, the roses, the beautiful church. And for me, when I pictured my groom, I pictured you. Not the little you who stepped on my toes when we danced, but the man you would grow to be. I never thought as a little girl that I wouldn't know that man.
I'm going to marry Leo. Our first dance will be the waltz, he's a beautiful lead, and my bouquet will be orchids. I guess I'm just selfishly trying to ease this guilt by writing to you. I feel as though I betrayed you, the you who I grew up with and whose last name I'd add to my first name in my head, by not waiting. But I still hope. I hope that one day you'll come home. Not to be my husband, because I will be a loyal and loving wife, but just so that maybe I can get to know the man you've become, Ciel.
No longer yours but always with love,
Lizzie.
And Ciel smiled, a genuine smile, maybe the smile that he'd given Lizzie once upon a time when they'd danced and she'd only giggled when he'd damn-near trampled her dainty little feet. It had been the longest time since he'd smiled like he was smiling now, and it almost hurt.
Little Lizzie Middleford was getting married. She was right that he didn't remember that Leo person, but regardless, he mentally changed her name to Lizzie Baskerville, and it sounded right. So much better than Lizzie Phantomhive would have sounded, no matter how many times she may have chanted the name in her head.
Ciel tried to picture just how Lizzie might have looked now, but couldn't. To him, she would always be the beaming girl with the doe-like eyes of enchanting emerald and hair like liquid gold. With her shrill cries and streaming tears when she didn't get her way, but her tinkling laugh and that warmth she gave everybody without reserve.
Little Lizzie was getting married, and she had the blessing of the man Ciel Phantomhive had become.
The elation simply wasn't destined to last.
"Late..." Ciel muttered to himself, twirling a pawn between his fingers. As pathetic a competition as Ash proved these days, he found himself bored enough to wander out into the leisure room that night. He was beginning to wonder whether Ash had again been struck by one of his too numerous to be innocent illnesses, when someone opened the ward door.
He frowned, but greeted, "Hello, Hannah."
"Hello, Ciel," that voice that was so soft it was a whisper responded, the woman coming over to the empty chair, the dim lamplight doing little to illuminate her. Ciel had to squint if he wanted to see her at all.
"Ash ill again?" He set the pawn down, moving it to the most advantageous place mechanically. He wouldn't have to try with her.
"It would seem so," she responded, mimicking Ciel's movement with little to no thought.
They played in silence for a while, the game doing nothing to lift Ciel's boredom, before Hannah spoke again. An unwelcome question.
"How are your sessions with Dr. Faustus going, Ciel?"
He looked up at that, and she must have moved at some point, because he could see her properly now.
"A-Ah-"
Bile rose in his throat.
A plastic smile twisted her lips, feral, mirth glistening in her eyes as the colour fled Ciel's face.
His first thought was that it grew back, but even in such a sickened state, Ciel wasn't stupid and knew that was impossible. Eyes didn't just grow back, especially not when they were clawed from someone's very skull.
His second thought was oh christ I know that colour, and he did. It took but a second to place the murky grey that had glared at him oh-so-many times for whatever unknown slight, that had once belonged to Peter, that now stared out at him in amusement as he tried to look away but couldn't.
"Is something the matter, Ciel?" she asked softly, innocently, and that eye followed his hands as he brought them up to cover his mouth.
There were still faint lines around her eye where stitches had clearly been, and he didn't know why but seeing those barely-there scars were what sickened him the most.
"G-Gonna be sick-" Ciel choked out, jumping from his chair so quickly it clattered to the floor. Hannah didn't move to stop him as he stumbled away from her as fast as he could, his own eye glued to his door, needing to get into his room even though the door wouldn't lock and she could easily just come after him, but it was his room and that meant safety-
He wasn't surprised when hands wrapped around him, but that didn't stop him from thrashing around, trying to escape their grasps. His skin crawled everywhere he felt their touch, and if he'd been able to, he would have clawed at the flesh to stop that revolting crawl.
"Shh, Ciel," he heard Hannah say distantly, a hollow echo of comfort in her tone.
Two of the triplets, nameless as far as he was concerned, held him steady as the third knelt in front of him with the needle. Hannah's hand grasped his cheeks, keeping his head still.
The default thought so instilled in him that it came as often as air returned, that maybe if he just kept still, let them do as they please, retreated inside himself and waited, then it would all be over soon enough, maybe even painlessly.
And, as always, Ciel killed the thought. Like hell would he be forced to his knees.
It was so hard to remember that resolution when the drug spread through his veins like wildfire, burning all sense away. He fell limp in their hands, his body no longer listening to his screams to escape them.
That heartbeat was a vicious flutter beneath his fingertips, so like the wings of a butterfly caged by hands, loose enough to live but tight enough to ensnare. There was a thrilled satisfaction that he was the one making his heart beat in such a frenzy, furthered when the boy's hands clung to him instinctively as his head broke the surface. Clutching so tightly at his arms, because he was his lifeline, he was relief from the pain – ah, but you are the one inflicting it, aren't you? only for his own good, always for his own good – and the boy knew it.
Ciel choked and spluttered, couching up water that was more like ice, lashing his captor and saviour with a glare colder than any freeze. His chest rose and fell, heaving heavily, his breath a wheeze.
"What did you do, Ciel?"
The same words as always transpired between them, and it was the unspoken words weaved between the spoken, I want to help you, I want to make you better, I want to free you, that fell on deaf ears as Ciel resolutely kept his lips together.
He almost sighed, "It's unfortunate you're being so stubborn, Ciel," as the boy left him no other choice than to force his head beneath the water's surface once again.
Claude tightened his arm around the boy's waist as he flung out his arms and legs, not a fraction of aim, just desperation to hit the man as his lungs burned and spots danced before his eyes. He tightened his fist in the silken cobalt hair, making sure Ciel didn't get air until Claude granted it to him.
As Ciel's back hitched, movements becoming more frantic, Claude pulled him back towards his chest again. Water flooded the linoleum floor they were knelt on, every inch of Ciel saturated through.
"What did you do, Ciel?"
His skin was ice to the touch now, body racked with violent tremors, but Claude knew that had little to do with the temperature and more with their proximity. Ciel was too busy forcing the water from his body to pull away though, even when Claude began to aide him, rubbing small circles on his back.
Again he could feel that heartbeat, fingers skimming over his collarbone, so brittle and fragile. Just a little pressure, a little too much force, and the bones would snap, the fluttering heartbeat would cease.
But of course he wouldn't do that. No, he thought as Ciel finally caught his breath enough to try wrenching away from the too-intimate hold Claude had on him, because the powerful protect the weak. We protect that fragile heartbeat, and we fix those broken bones.
"What did you do, Ciel?"
And the first step to fixing the weak was, of course, to make them see just how broken they were.
"Ciel?" His voice missed its usual exuberance, so heavy with worry that it almost drew him to waking.
"Wha-What's wrong with him?" She knew, of course, had seen it before, but could think of little else to say. Her speechlessness was unusual enough that it almost pulled him to consciousness.
Oh god, it hurt. Head was pounding, like something was inside his skull trying to claw its way out, and had he drank fire because his throat burned so damn much, and where was all the air?
"What do we do?" That voice was never calm, yet now they were taking charge of the situation, and it was so funny he wanted to laugh, but there wasn't enough air to breathe, nevermind laugh.
The voices all melded into one and he could no longer put a name or even a face to them, and then he couldn't hear them at all.
"Joker!"
"Sebastian!"
"Joker!"
"Sebastian!"
Anyone with any experience at St. Victoria's would attest with utmost honesty that Soma Asman Kadar, information-bank and self-proclaimed Prince, was a child. Even at twenty years old, he was a child. If he wasn't the centre of attention, if he didn't get his way, if the curry Bard made was just that little bit too hot, all hell broke loose.
Soma was very aware of how people viewed him. He played on it, even. Which was why, at times like these, there was nothing he loved more than the looks on people's faces when he acted his age.
"Freckles, Ciel's shivering has gotten worse. Go and get your quilt for him," Soma instructed, looking very much the Prince he pretended to be as he lounged in Ciel's deskchair, gesturing the girl away.
She tore her eyes away from Alois, scowl now being thrown his way, but after a quick glance at the trembling mess on the bed, she nodded and stalked out the door. Alois hmph'd, folding his arms across his chest.
Soma had already been discarded from the argument. He'd been ready to go and get Agni to help, but neither Alois or Freckles were very agreeable. At least Freckles disagreed in a more agreeable way, though.
An awkward silence developed between the two boys, broken only by Ciel's rattling breaths.
Soma never did handle silence well.
"So... Nice weather we're having, huh?" He injected as much enthusiasm into the words as possible, but the poisonous look Alois shot him made clear the attempt was unappreciated.
"Yeah, the weather here usually sucks. Now, winters in India, man are they something!"
Were those crickets he could hear?
"... I hear there might even be snow next week!"
Alois just carried on glaring at him.
"Y'know, that's pretty impressive, Alois. I could never go that long without blinking. My eyes get all tired and scratchy and blurry and-"
"Stop talking."
"Yessir."
It was anyone's guess who was more grateful for Freckles' return. At least until Alois caught sight of who was following behind her.
"I said no, you stupid cow!" the blond hissed, and if it had been anyone else on the receiving end, they'd have retreated as quickly as they could. As it were, Freckles was more than used to Alois' mood swings – she was fairly sure his even worse than normal temperament towards her was solely down to her gender and his dislike of said gender – so she just flipped him off.
Joker gave a sheepish grin, "Nice to see you too, blondie."
"What the hell is he gonna be able to do to help? Nothing we couldn't do. We need someone from the staff-"
"No staff! They can't be trusted!" Freckles cut off, bordering shrill.
Soma just sighed. That was pretty much the back-and-forth they'd been having for the past hour and a half. As Freckles and Alois resumed their circuitous argument, Joker came over. He rested his good hand on Ciel's forehead, grimacing.
"Don't need a thermometer to know that ain't right."
"We can just toss him in the shower and run the cold for his temp. It's his breathing that's the problem," Soma informed, and as if on cue, Ciel broke out into throat-tearing coughs. It wasn't the coughs that concerned them so much as the trouble the unconscious boy had regaining his breath afterwards.
Joker frowned.
"Well... for a start, I don't think more covers are a good idea. We need to get his temp down, not jack it up more," as he said it, the man ripped the blankets away, "What he needs is his inhaler..."
"Which is why we should get Sebastian! He'll help!" Alois jumped at the slightest hint in his favour.
Freckles groaned in frustration. Honest to God, she wanted to slap the blond psychopath. Preferably with a brick.
"What part of no staff aren't you getting-"
"As loathe as I am to disagree with a lady, I'm thinkin' blondie has a point. Sebastian's a good bloke, s'far as I've seen anyway, risked his ass to help me out. God knows I'd be missin' more than an arm if he hadn't come alo-"
"That was Smile, not him!" Freckles looked positively betrayed, and Joker couldn't help wincing. The idea that the person she thought could solve all the problems, he was painfully aware a lot of the other patients saw him that way, was willing to actually ask staff for help. It was nothing short of sickening.
"Doll," she softened at the rarely-used petname, "Smile wouldn't have gotten as far as the door without Sebastian's help and you know it. He needs our help, and you being stubborn over this isn't helpin' at all. There's no way we're gonna be able to get his inhaler by ourselves."
Freckles looked everywhere but at Joker, face crumpled somewhere between thought and anger, and it was all he could do not to scrap the idea just to get rid of that expression so unbecoming of her.
She didn't say anything more, didn't relent to Joker's reasoning, but her silence was the most permission she was going to give them.
"I mean, you've got to appreciate the work he's put into it!" Ronald beamed, eyes shining with mirth behind his thick-rimmed glasses, skipping along beside the fuming Sebastian. When said livid man turned the most ferocious of glares on him, the younger man only seemed more amused.
"The stitchwork! I didn't know he was capable of that, must have practised for weeks. He'll have been working on it alllll night long."
How was this person still alive? Surely someone should have murdered him by now. Sebastian was seriously considering taking the job himself. While he was at it, may as well take care of that demented, overly-flamboyant, excessively loud, argument-for-an-entire-human-race-genocide Grell Sutcliffe.
"Hey, Sebastian! Have you got a... flurgle."
To those less versed in the language of Soma, 'flurgle' is the approximate translation of 'oh wow, that Grell guy has stitched his name onto your ass, but whoa, you don't look happy and if I laugh I'll probably die.' Unfortunately, thanks to Agni, Sebastian was rather fluent in Soma-nese, and the purple-haired man's attempts to swallow his laughter only served to further annoy him.
Tittering, Ronald sauntered away, leaving the two alone.
"Have I got a what?" Sebastian hissed, really not in the mood for more laughter at his expense. It would have been fine, except Grell had somehow managed to get at all of his pants, and had hidden anything and everything he could have used to get rid of the branding.
Soma masked a bark of laughter as a cough before recovering himself.
"C-Can you spare a sec?"
Sebastian followed the clearly giggling man, frowning as he realised where they were going.
He'd never been inside Ciel's room before. It was just as he expected it would be, though. A little larger than this own, and much nicer. Plush carpeting where his was wooden flooring, new-looking wallpaper where his was discoloured and peeling away, everything was a royal blue. There were two bookcases on opposite ends of the room, completely full. Not only with books but with figurines, a quite excessive amount of snowglobes, a flood of toys – if Ciel had been conscious, he'd have made clear that they were collectables, not toys – and so many different board games. There was a large desk, papers scattered across the surface, along with a myriad of sweet wrappers. The room itself was as messy as its inhabitant, clothes sprawled across the floor, the cupboard open and a mountain of broken toys tumbling out. He had an itching to start tidying up a little, just enough to actually be able to see the floor.
There was even an ensuite bathroom.
"He's sick." Joker's voice pulled him back to the moment, and it was more the fact that Joker was there than his words that alarmed Sebastian.
Ciel did not like people in his room.
There were five people in his room.
It was a good thing he was unconscious or he would have blown a gasket.
He was whiter than white. You could almost see the veins spiderwebbing beneath his skin, he was so pale. The sweat plastered his hair to his face and neck, the sheen making him look even more translucent. His chest heaved, and Sebastian could almost feel how painful every difficultly-drawn breath was.
"What's wrong with him? He was fine yesterday," Sebastian stated, crossing over to take a closer look. Like every other person in the room had, he rested a hand on Ciel's forehead, frown deepening at the heat.
"He's got asthma or somethin'. Gets worse when he gets a cold, I guess," Joker offered, shrugging one shoulder, "He had a session with Faustus, so I'm guessing he got tanked."
Filing away the term for later investigation, Sebastian made to pick Ciel up, "I'll take him to the Infirmary."
"NO!" four voices bellowed unanimously. Soma even jumped up from his seat.
He'd have argued, but Ciel chose that moment to worsen his gasping. It sounded like every breath was the first after drowning, resisting every step of the way to go to his lungs. Unconscious of his movements until he was actually doing them, Sebastian turned Ciel onto his side, and the wheezing thankfully subsided.
His clothes were soggy and the heat was literally radiating from his body.
After working at St. Victoria's as long as he had, Sebastian didn't argue, trusting that the patients knew what they were talking about, "So what do we do then?"
"He needs medicine," Soma spoke up, "But more importantly, his inhaler."
Sebastian was moving immediately, glancing around the room.
"Nah, mate. It ain't here. It got confiscated after... an incident with Faustus."
Joker and Freckles started snickering, Soma grinning. At Sebastian's confused expression, Freckles enlightened him.
"Well, Smile don't like being touched, and Dr. Faustus can get real handsy with him. In his defense, Smile did tell him to get his hands off. He didn't, so Smile made him. Let's just say that Dr. Faustus didn't wear glasses before that day."
Joker cut off his laughter abruptly, "Yeah... it was funnier when he could breathe though..."
"His inhaler is somewhere in Dr. Faustus' office. Get some medicine from the Infirmary and get the inhaler, then get your ass back here before he suffocates or somethin'," Freckles instructed.
As much as he hated being ordered around by people younger than him, especially when they were copping an attitude for some reason, Sebastian heeded Freckles' words and was out of the ward in minutes.
If Sebastian had been on such a mission a month before, he'd have been darting around corners, hiding behind plants and skulking in shadowed alcoves every step of the way. As it were, he had more than a little knowledge now, so walked the hallways free of fear. Laden with the essential flu treatments, cold compresses and cough medicine etc., he made his way towards Claude's office.
People who saw him in the corridors didn't ask why he wasn't at his post, didn't enquire as to why he had half the Infirmary's stock in his arms, didn't even demand to see identification. It was no longer odd to him; everyone went about their own business, and nobody asked questions about other peoples.
There was not a single camera in any corner either.
Dropping his loot into one of the chairs outside, Sebastian rapped on the door of Claude's office. He had a fleeting hope that maybe the man wasn't there, which was crushed as his dulcet tones granted him entrance.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Claude, but I was hoping you could spare a minute?" Plastering on his best for-the-boss smile, Sebastian shut the door behind him.
Claude was sat behind his desk, poring over some papers, and actually looked put-out. Well, if that wasn't almost an emotion. Miracles do happen.
"...I'm rather... busy at the moment, Sebastian. What is it you need?" His tone was clipped, and Sebastian was fairly sure that was irritation in those amber eyes.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," the sarcasm seemed to be lost on the bespectacled man, "But I just needed to enquire about the protocol for leaving the Hospital grounds? Agni tells me there's a process that needs to be gone through first."
Every time Claude adjusted his glasses, Sebastian had to bite back his smirk, picturing Ciel spraying Claude right in the face with an inhaler. He could just see the smug expression on the boy's face, could imagine how very satisfied he must feel whenever he saw Claude donning his specs.
Claude appeared to be weighing the pros and cons of telling Sebastian to bite him. Clearly, the cons won out, and he gestured for Sebastian to take a seat.
"Given the importance of our work and for the patients' safety, security is rather tight. You'll need to submit a request for temporary leave, which the Chairmen have to authorise, before you can go. If it's not too personal a question, why exactly do you need so sudden a leave?"
He had to be careful of his answer there. After all, he didn't have any contact with the world outside of the Institute, so blagging a relatives death was out of the question. Besides, he had no intention of actually going anywhere, so it needed to be something easily cancelable.
"It's not terribly sudden; my sister was pregnant before I came here, getting on in months, and she'll have had the baby by now, I believe. I'll never hear the end of it if I don't show face at least once."
He didn't have a sister, and he hated babies. He could easily forge a letter off his imaginary sister announcing her travels, making it impossible for him to meet up with them.
Claude nodded.
"I see. Excuse me a moment while I go get the necessary documents," he stated, rising from his chair and leaving the room.
No sooner had the door clicked shut behind him than Sebastian was on his feet. Going by what little he knew of Claude Faustus, and half of that was Sebastian's musings on what an asshat he was, things like confiscated 'dangerous' items were probably kept in his desk.
Could the man be more predictable?
The inhaler was lying in an otherwise empty drawer, looking almost like a trophy given its own special place.
That wasn't creepy at all.
He shoved it in his pocket, closing the drawer. As he was crossing back around the desk to the chair, his hand grazed over the papers on Claude's desk, knocking them to the ground. Biting back a curse, he stooped down to pick them up.
Soma stared up at him listlessly from the discoloured photograph attached to one of the sheets of paper. His face was missing the usual beaming grin and shining eyes that Sebastian was so used to seeing, and maybe it was that that ignited his curiosity.
His eyes scanned the topmost paper.
Thursday 29th March, 2008:
Patient X27 displaying marginal improvements. Has been in Room 1800 for six days since the incident. In today's session, admitted to forming friendship with Aleister Chambers and asking Chambers to take him outside 'for fresh air'. However, still denies any acts of violence towards Chambers, insists that Chambers' death was completely accidental.
Saturday 31st March, 2008:
Patient X27's emotional state deteriorating. Use of the wire caused severe panic and produced no positive results. He still maintains that Chambers' death was not his doing.
Wednesday 4th April, 2008:
Patient X27 began pleading for bathing rights. His continued state of unclean is beginning to distress him. Possible guilt over his hand in Chambers' death, Chambers' blood still coating him an unwelcome reminder? Continue observation.
Friday 22nd April, 2008:
Patient X27 has reverted to childlike behaviour. A ploy to lull into false sense of security? Monitor this. Refuses to answer any questions, rejecting food and drink, progressed overnight into rocking in the corner of the room and crying.
Monday 8th May, 2008:
Patient X27 released from room 1800 after childlike behaviour ceased and he attempted to strangle Dr. Phipps. Granted a bath. Returned to ward. Continue observations, risk level raised to six point five.
It wasn't until Claude's approaching footsteps reached his ears that Sebastian tore his eyes away from the page, hurriedly replacing it on the desk and taking his seat. With difficultly, he trained his face back into its polite smile, trying to keep his panic at bay.
Soma had killed some former member of staff? After 'forming a friendship' with them?
Sebastian forced the thought from his mind, accepting the sheets Claude handed him with a smile and taking his leave from the office.
Agni wasn't necessarily in any danger. It could just be a misunderstanding. After all, Sebastian didn't have any faith in how 'mad' some of the patients were, no matter how much the other staff members would insist upon it. Why should he believe that Soma had murdered someone-
blind faith in someone who may be planning to use Agni to get out of the ward and kill him as soon as? Agni didn't know, Agni couldn't know, Agni genuinely felt something for Soma (murderer) and wouldn't believe something like that even when Soma had his fingers wrapped around Agni's throat-
he had to warn Agni.
When Sebastian got back to Ciel's room, Soma was the only one there with the sick boy. He greeted Sebastian with a bright grin.
"Hey! Thought we were gonna have to send a search party out for you."
Sebastian didn't answer, overly aware of just how close Soma's hands were to Ciel's neck.
Soma jumped up from his chair and Sebastian tensed.
"Here, gimme the inhale-"
"You can go," Sebastian cut across, words sharp enough to cut, "I'll take care of him."
Soma faltered, grin slipping away. The coldness of Sebastian's words and the unreadable look in his eyes stung the younger man, and he took a step back, putting a little space between them. He wondered for half a second if he'd angered Sebastian, but could think of nothing offensive he'd done.
Forcing his smile back into place, he decided Sebastian's mood was simply worry over Ciel, and his dismissing was simply because he wanted to be alone with the youngest boy, "Right. I'll see you later then, Sebastian."
"Ciel, wake up," Sebastian said, shaking the boy's shoulder. His temperature had gone down a lot over the last two hour, thanks to the compress and what little medicine he'd managed to give Ciel during the short period he'd been awake earlier. During that period, Sebastian had been witness to something very few in the World could claim to have seen; a delirious Ciel Phantomhive.
Sebastian could honestly say it was the single most oddest thing he'd ever seen.
Ciel Phantomhive, in his experience, was serious, proud, independent and so many other things. He gave off an air of superiority without even trying, without it seeming conceited; it was simply how things were. He kept everyone at arms length and even that distance was a privilege. When he looked at you, you were the only person there, everyone else seemed to melt away.
Today, though, he was a child.
"C'mon – no, keep still – you have to take it," Sebastian insisted, beyond exasperated. Still groggy, Ciel rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, effectively avoiding the spoon of medicine. Complaints of its taste were muffled by the cushion, and any time Sebastian attempted to roll him back over, Ciel just shuffled further away, closer and closer to the side of the bed.
Sebastian was starting to entertain the prospect of letting the little bugger just fall off.
"You take it!" Ciel snapped, tearing the cold compress from his forehead and whipping it at Sebastian's too-close hand. He had a full-on pout on his face now that would have mortified the usual Ciel.
"I'm not the one who's sick, Ciel," Sebastian sighed, clinging to the last dregs of his patience.
"Neither am I!" The statement would have been more convincing if it hadn't trailed off into wheezing coughs. For the hundredth time, the boy sucked on the inhaler.
"Yes, you're the picture of perfect health."
Sebastian took the momentary distraction to shove the spoon into Ciel's mouth, clamping a hand over his lips to make sure he didn't spit it back out. Again. Ciel took that as a chance to smack him around the face with the compress. Again.
If he'd known how much effort playing nurse was going to be, he'd have left Soma to take care of the brat, murderer or not.
His mind was still reeling over the information, and he decided to take advantage of Ciel's current state to get some answers he probably wouldn't have gotten if the boy was healthy and aware. Still, even sick and acting like a five year old, Ciel was still Ciel, so subtlety was called for.
Ciel, fully medicated, curled back up on the bed. If the glare was anything to go by, the boy was sulking.
"I heard a name today. Aleister Chambers. I think he used to be a member of staff here?"
Ciel's glare worsened.
"He was a complete and utter ponce."
Sebastian cocked a brow.
"You weren't fond of him then?"
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Any particular reason?"
Ciel shrugged, rubbing his nose on his sleeve.
"'Cause he was just irritating."
"I was under the impression you found everyone irritating," Sebastian couldn't help stating.
"You're irritating," Ciel muttered beneath his breath, sitting up and rooting through a drawer in his bedside cabinet. He looked more and more depressed as his hand went deeper, until he let out a cry of victory, pulling his hand back out.
"Thanks... So I heard he was rather close with your friend, Soma?"
Pulling the wrapper off the lollipop, Ciel examined it closely before sticking it in his mouth, "Soma? Not particularly. Don't think they ever said two words to each other, actually."
Sebastian didn't question Ciel's honesty. In the less-than-pristine state he was in, Ciel had no reason to lie, and even if he was fully healthy, Sebastian still would have believed his words. He'd already invested too much in the boy not to trust him, after all.
Still, he had his doubts. Sebastian knew perfectly well that, at least before he started working at the Institute, Ciel had spent most of his time in his room. Soma could have befriended Chambers without Ciel's knowledge. It was hardly as though Ciel made other people's friendships his business.
He had enough doubts to be worried for Agni.
"Hey, Sebastian. How's Smile doin'?" Freckles asked, closing the door behind her. She was over her previous bad mood already, just glad that Ciel had gotten his inhaler back. He looked much better than before. He wasn't panting for breaths anymore, some colour had come back into his face and he was sleeping soundly.
"Much better. He'll probably sleep through the night now," Sebastian yawned, stretching out of the hard plastic chair. Taking care of the boy was much easier when he wasn't conscious.
"It's almost eight, so I'll take over for ya. Figure I'll just crash in here."
"Right," Sebastian rolled his shoulders to get rid of the stiffness, "I'll check in tomorrow then. Good night."
"W-wait!"
Sebastian paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder at the uncomfortable-looking girl.
"Hm?"
"Um... just... thanks, y'know. You, er, you really helped us out... G'night." She turned her back to him, but not quick enough to hide her slowly reddening face. Sebastian chuckled, leaving the room.
It was on his back towards the dorm building that Sebastian came across Agni, who greeted him with a cheerful wave.
They chatted work for a while as they made their to their rooms, and it was when Agni mentioned Soma, and smiled so damn happily, that Sebastian snapped.
"Stay away from Soma."
The words were out of his mouth before he'd even thought about them, more a sharp order than a simple request. Agni's face fell, but not into a frown. A frown Sebastian could have handled, a frown Sebastian was expecting.
Agni glared.
Sebastian had known Agni for so many years now, had certainly pissed the man off with his cockiness and flakiness plenty of times, had endured exasperated lectures from him whenever a woman he spurned took out her hurt on Agni, had been insensitive and just a downright asshole to him sometimes, yet Agni had never glared at him before.
"Look, I can't explain how I know, but... he's dangerous, Agni. He's using you. If you let him, then he's going to hurt you-" Sebastian hurried to explain himself, but Agni was hearing none of it. The usually impeccably polite man ceased the flow of words with a sharp wave of his hand, grey eyes hardening.
"Enough."
It was a single word, but said with such ferocious anger that even Sebastian had to step back. A part of him, a part that was getting increasingly larger as Agni's glare grew more venomous, was angered that Agni was trusting Soma over him. Had they not been friends for years? Had Sebastian not helped him get through some of the most difficult moments in his life? And yet Agni was willing to place more trust in a person he barely knew, had barely known for such a short time?
"Fine. What happens has nothing to do with me," Sebastian snapped.
He washed his hands of the matter.