Chapter Nine
Steady hands cracking it open in a skilful way rarely seen in that kitchen, the egg dropped into the pan without a single scrap of shell. The yolk sizzled, breaking the silence in the room, and soon enough several strips of bacon joined the fray.
Ah, perfection. Not a single smell of burning, either.
"Yo, Sebastian!" Bard strode through the kitchen doors, grinning widely, ever-present cigarette hanging unlit from his teeth. His chef's apron was already stained an ashy black.
"Smoking in bed again, I see," Sebastian observed, filling the kettle.
Bard's grin turned sheepish.
"Heh... well, y'know, these uniforms, bloody flammable..."
"Coffee?" Sebastian asked as the water boiled, moving around Bard fluidly while the blond began his own breakfast.
"That'd be crackin'. Want me to take care of that for ya?" He gestured to Sebastian's masterpiece.
"No. Don't even look at it."
There was a theory circulating the asylum that Bard's mere gaze could turn the most exquisite of delicacies into poison. Sebastian was a firm believer in it.
Sebastian had become something of a permanent fixture in St. Victoria's kitchens over the past two weeks. His ongoing argument with Agni had only worsened in that time. It was probably the already present annoyance there that made him abandon any semblance of manners in favour of edible meals and outright demand that Bard let him make his own. Half expecting to be flamethrower'd, he was pleasantly surprised when Bard just told him to 'knock himself out' and happily handed over ingredients. Since then, Sebastian had been coming down every morning to the kitchens and having breakfast with them. While certainly not his first choice in company, they were a lot more tolerable morning companions than Will and his death traps or Grell and his... well, he was a trap in and of himself.
"That fucktard Ash was down here yesterday. Gave me a right lecture about sanitation and how I 'must use the proper cooking utensils'. Bollocks to him, man's never used a fork for more than food, I'll tell you that!"
Bard was of the opinion that if you hadn't circumcised a man with a spoon by the time you were twelve then you just couldn't call yourself a man.
"And get this; the prissy SOB said they're cutting my funding! 'More important things, a drain on our resources, blah blah blah'." Sebastian was quite a fan of Bard's Ash impression. It was quite on the mark.
"He's not your boss. Surely he doesn't have the power to cut your funding?"
"That's what I said! Where he gets off preaching to me..." Bard trailed off in an aggravated mutter, skewering the food formally known as sausage. No doubt he was imagining it was a certain lilac-eyed man.
As Sebastian sat down at the table, the other two musketeers dragged themselves into the room. Finny dropped into a chair and let his head fall to the table with a dull thunk! Meirin wasn't even conscious enough to blush when Sebastian greeted her.
They soon woke up when Bard skidded their plates across the table to them. Honestly, the two had stomachs of steel, and god knows what unearthly substance their teeth were made from.
"It's hardly as though they gave me that much in the first place, yanno?"
Finny blinked sleepily up at Bard, shovelling the food clumsily into his mouth, "Whatcha talking about?"
"The Pillock."
His maiden name, of course.
"Huh? You too?" Meirin exclaimed, "Angela came to see me yesterday! She said the cost of the plates that got broken are coming out of my pay cheque."
"Me too! She said my mowing was uneven and told me to use a ruler."
Sebastian was fairly sure Finny had never touched a ruler in his life. His baffled expression only reinforced that.
The entirety of breakfast was spent bitching about the siblings, and Sebastian found he didn't mind all that much. Yes, the trio was far from his usual type of company. Bard's overall coarseness and fondness towards all things flammable, Finny's excessively childish disposition and Meirin's complete inability to look him in the eye without her head imploding were dampeners, that was for certain. However, he found himself becoming, if not warmed up to those attributes, at least accustomed to them.
Well, there were worse ways to spend a morning.
It wasn't snowing. It should have been, but that's English weather for you.
For as long as he could remember, Snake had always abhorred Christmas. There was just something about the day itself that he simply couldn't tolerate.
Maybe it was the good cheer. Don't get the wrong impression; Snake could be very cheerful, though most found it hard to tell, and liked other people to be too. It was contagious, a smile, a thing he very much liked to see. However, the good cheer at Christmas was just so... false. Adults spending money they didn't have on toys their kids didn't want but would have to pretend to like. Well, should pretend to like, though most didn't opt for sparing the gift-givers feelings. The awkward and tense social gatherings of in-laws who hated each other but acted otherwise, with hugs like punches and kisses like bites, asking how their year had been and feeling sorely disappointed to learn their house hadn't burnt down.
Maybe it was the fakeness of the holiday itself. The image of Christmas was one of warmth, massive banquets, a beautiful sheet of snow falling at just the right time, family and friends banding together. In all his twenty years, not one of his Christmases had been like that. Not that he expected them to be, but it was certainly false advertising.
Even the religious aspects of the season were lost on him, faith not something he ever recalled possessing. He didn't even believe in Santa Clause.
Maybe if it had snowed last night, he'd feel better, Snake thought as he stared out the window. He usually avoided looking out the window, the thick bars across the glass caging him in and making him restless, but he always made an exception in December. Maybe that second he looked would be the second the first snowflake would fall.
With a small sigh, Snake tore his eyes from the window, rolling onto his side. The arms around his waist tightened, and he felt a little better.
"No snow," Drocell murmured, and it wasn't even a question anymore.
"No snow," Snake confirmed, inching closer to his companion until their chests were touching and their breaths were mingling.
"Snowin' in Alaska," Drocell yawned, words slurred with sleep, "Lot o' snow there."
Snake always loved a sleepy Drocell. His violet eyes hazy and unfocused, copper hair a shaggy mess, and always so much more clingy than he ever let himself be any other time. Not that his partner was particularly distant, but he was so very careful to keep any physical contact, even the slightest brush of hands, to a minimum outside of their rooms. God forbid any of the staff knew, knew to use this against them.
"Definitely Christmas in Alaska then."
"Pagans, whole lot of 'em."
Snake much preferred the idea of Winter Solstice than Christmas. No particular reason, maybe the name was just better to him. Drocell had told him all about it back on their first Christmas together. Honestly, Snake could remember little of the details, but the name had such a nice ring to it.
A crash from outside the door set them both on guard, all sleepiness abandoning the elder man as his arms tightened further around Snake.
A rapping on the door, vaguely resembling Jingle Bells but only vaguely, had them relaxing.
"A lady's present, let's keep it PG, boys!" Without further warning, Joker flung the door open and bounced into the room with a grin. Beast followed behind him, ready to shield her eyes if she needed to, looking as happy as Drocell at the early morning call.
"How can you sleep in on Christmas? Up, up!" No matter how many years had passed, Joker's December enthusiasm had yet to let up in the slightest.
Beast nearly nodded off where she stood, until Joker grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room, no doubt to harass everyone else too.
"He's not human, getting up so early in the morning," Drocell grumbled as he pulled himself out of the bed, dragging a hand through his dishevelled hair. Snake followed suit, already missing the warmth of sleep. Once they were more-or-less dressed, they trudged into the leisure room.
Joker had worked his way around the bedrooms and roused almost everyone, the groggy masses collapsing onto the couches and chairs, cursing their unofficial leader and his impenetrable good cheer.
Soma was the only one unaffected by the early hour, bouncing up and down in his seat and humming some mishmash of Christmas songs off-key. Everyone in the room collectively damned him to hell.
"Ow – come on, Smile, it's – okay, put the toy down, it's pointy – sorry, collecta – Yeesh, fine, man!" Joker huffed, skidding out of Ciel's room and just missing the door hitting his arse as it swung shut.
It was an annual thing. No-one would have bothered if it weren't for Joker, and it wasn't as though anyone else really exchanged gifts apart from him. He was doing his rounds now, handing out little things he shouldn't have had that he'd accumulated over the year; books that weren't paperback and so faded you couldn't make out the words, comics, new hair and toothbrushes, real soap, not that industrial crap they usually got, even food that was deemed too nice for them. Joker made sure everyone got something, and something they'd want, the only reason he wasn't flogged for dragging them up at eight in the morning.
Snake accepted his gifts with a small quirk of the lips, "Thank you." Christmas may not have been his favourite time of year, far from it, but what Joker was doing had very little to do with the actual season, and he couldn't have been more grateful for it.
More than the little trinkets Joker handed them with a grin, he was giving them a sense of normalcy despite their title of patient, the idea that they were doing the same thing people all over the world were doing.
It was nice to feel normal every once in a while.
"Incoming!" Soma hollered from over by the door, hiding his stash beneath him on the chair. Everyone else followed suit as the familiar beeping rang out and the ward door opened, the staff on shift spilling in. When the purple-haired man saw who was coming in first, his eyes narrowed, but a smug smirk formed on his lips.
"Mornin', Sebby!" Soma greeted, overtly cheerful.
He'd been hurt, at first. Ever since that day Ciel had been sick, something had changed between him and Sebastian. At least, something had changed in Sebastian. He was fairly sure he'd done nothing to warrant such blatant hostility. It was almost scary, how cold Sebastian had become. Sure, they'd hardly been bosom buddies or anything before, but they'd at least gotten along. Now? Now, Soma was certain Sebastian wouldn't piss on him if he were on fire. And a lot of his fellow patients were pyromaniacs.
If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Sebastian was doing everything he could to keep him away from Ciel. Well, he could go straight to hell. Screw him and his mancrush, he was Ciel's best friend – despite what Ciel and Alois said to the contrary – and some bipolar pretty-boy wasn't going to change that any time soon. Although, his increasing clinginess to Ciel was probably annoying Ciel more than it was Sebastian. Still, a point had to be made! Sebastian could glower all he wanted, which he certainly was, but he wasn't going to change anything.
Hurt had quickly made way for anger when Soma had learnt that Sebastian was the cause for Agni being so out of sorts lately. Sebastian being an ass to him was one thing, but he was meant to be Agni's friend. Best friend, if Agni's fond words over the past few years were any indication. That was another thing entirely.
Sebastian didn't scare him, that much anyway, and he wouldn't chase him away.
"They... got along just fine, if I remember. I wonder if something has happened," Snake mumbled to his companion, watching the exchange of glares between Sebastian and Soma in puzzlement. Drocell followed his gaze.
"Odd."
It was the way he said the single word that threw Snake off.
"...Drocell?"
He was looking unusually thoughtful. Drocell thought non-stop, but he rarely showed it. He blinked slowly, dragging his eyes from Sebastian.
"I can't help wondering... the longer stays in The Room, Peter's death, Joker's arm... Yes, they harmed us before, but there was at least a degree of subtlety, but now..." It was more like Drocell was talking to himself than to Snake, but Snake listened ardently, a knot forming in his stomach, "We knew something was changing... but when did it start?"
Snake was being addressed now, and his brow furrowed.
"The changes?"
"Hm."
"I... I'm not sure." That was the truth. Snake did his best to block everything but them out of his mind. It was the easiest way to sleep at night.
Drocell's eyes crawled back to Sebastian, "...I reason that it began shortly after that man started working here."
"Oh, here." Sebastian sat up in the chair, grabbing the post-it note from his back pocket and handing it to Ciel. Ciel rolled onto his side, plucking the note from Sebastian's fingers. He quickly scanned it, rolled his eye exasperatedly, and put it on the bedside cabinet.
Ever since Finny had learnt of Sebastian's friendship, if that was the right word, with Ciel, he'd adopted Sebastian as messenger boy and constantly gave him sweets and notes to pass over to the boy. Before, he'd have just said no, but since no-one was going to see now, Sebastian saw no harm in it. Besides, whatever Finny was writing on the notes sometimes elicited the most curious expressions from Ciel that he probably wouldn't have seen otherwise. He was sorely tempted to read the notes himself.
A few days after Ciel had been sick, he'd learnt of Sebastian having been in his room. Sebastian had expected him to blow a fuse, yes, but he'd hardly thought he'd be quite that angry. Throwing a few choice words Sebastian's way, Ciel had disappeared into his room and not re-emerged for a good three days. Then, apparently over whatever little hissy-fit he was throwing, he invited Sebastian inside. Of course, the door had to be left open, but Sebastian didn't fail to see the significance of Ciel's invitation. Sure, people like Alois and Soma burst in whenever they wanted to despite the less-than-welcoming reception they received, but Sebastian had been invited. Was some of the trust he'd invested in the boy being returned, at least a little?
Sometimes they played a variety of the games Ciel had at hand. Sometimes they just talked.
Today, Ciel was in one of his rare talkative moods.
"Tell me about yourself," Ciel more commanded than requested, looking very at ease lounged on his bed.
Sebastian blinked up from the book he'd been reading, found amongst the mess on the floor. One of these days someone was going to have to tidy up. He doubted very much it would be the owner of the mass of crap.
Shaking his head with a smirk, Sebastian replied, "You wouldn't find my story very interesting."
Ciel tossed him a scathing look.
"You think I waste time on people I'm not interested in?"
Well. He hadn't expected that. Coming from Ciel Phantomhive, that was quite the incredible compliment. Succeeding in keeping the smugness from his face, Sebastian relented.
"Alright. I was born in Los Angeles. I've never known my Father, never particularly wanted to, and I get along well with my Mother. We were neither rich nor poor, moved around a lot for her work, and we eventually settled down in New York where I got a good education. Once I left college, I started moving around a lot on my own to wherever a job I wanted was. Now I'm here. Like I said, nothing terribly exciting there."
Ciel nodded, chewing on the nail of his thumb, a habit of his that made Sebastian wince.
"Hmm. So, where during the 'good education' did you meet Agni?"
Sebastian frowned. Seeing that, Ciel continued, "You used to mention him quite often. Lately it's like the name is taboo. What, have the two of you had a little lover's spat?"
Uncomfortable with where the conversation had turned to, Sebastian decided a topic change was in order.
"We're... having a misunderstanding. Nothing serious. So, what about you? What's your story?"
Sebastian didn't miss the way Ciel tensed, biting down on his thumb hard enough to draw blood, before he answered, "What was the misunderstanding?"
Annoyance surged up at the blatant dismissal of his question.
"Nothing of significance," Sebastian bit out, the sharp tone making it clear more questions weren't welcome.
"Significant enough to stop the two of you talking though." Ciel, unsurprisingly, chose to ignore the warning tone.
"Clearly. Are you going to answer my question?"
Ciel rolled his eye mockingly, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm quite the boring topic. Ask another question, maybe I'll answer it."
It was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
"Another question? Alright. Fine. How about you tell me about The Fire?"
The colour drained from Ciel's face at an almost comical rate, and Sebastian cursed his irritation getting the better of him. He just couldn't help it though. Never before had he invested as much in a person as he had those past few months with Ciel, and he was getting tired of the take, take, take. He never answered questions, and on the so rare they were non-existent occasions he did, it was in bloody riddles and hints. He'd let him out of the ward for Christ's sake! And with his albeit limited knowledge of what St. Victoria's was like, he doubted getting fired was the worst punishment for insubordination. He'd taken a risk in the boy; would it kill him to return a shred of the trust Sebastian had given?
"You've... read my file."
It wasn't a question, and unsure what to say, Sebastian stayed silent.
A wicked smirk fell over Ciel's face, "I wasn't aware Orderlies had those rights."
Sebastian knew he'd crossed a line, but damn it all if he was going to back down.
"Surely nothing about this place surprises you anymore? I've answered your question. In fact, I've answered every single question you've ever put to me. Isn't it about time you answered one or two?" Sebastian challenged.
The smirk flickered, more plastic than anything else, and Ciel was just looking right through him now.
"Leave."
If you had walked down the twelfth hallway on the third floor of St. Victoria's Staff Dormitory on Saturday 25th December 2010, you'd have seen a man with a face of thunder. His annoyance with the world was positively palpable, complete frustration in every step he took. You'd have done well to turn heel and run, because that man was not one whose path you wanted to cross that day.
Sebastian stormed down the hall. First Agni, now Ciel, who the hell else could he completely piss off? Well, he still didn't think the whole Agni thing was his fault. It was Agni who was refusing to even look in Sebastian's direction, just because Sebastian actually gave a damn about what happened to him, and not many people could claim that.
Ciel, though... well, that may have been his fault, a little. Still, he did have a point. Sure, he probably shouldn't have let slip he'd read the brat's file. Probably shouldn't have asked about something he'd read in it. Especially when it was obviously a sensitive topic – what the hell wasn't with the brat though – but even so, he did have a point. He was damn tired of knowing nothing about Ciel yet being expected to go along with whatever he said, and-
Sebastian paused mid-step. His head was swimming, and he stumbled over to the wall for support before he fell to the ground. His throat closed up and he couldn't breathe, panic swelling in his chest. No-one was around to help, he couldn't breathe let alone call for help, and-
then it stopped. Air flooded his lungs, his head cleared and his feet were once more steady.
The abrupt sickness was gone, but unease remained, twisting his stomach into knots. On edge, Sebastian pushed off from the wall and continued back to his room.
Steady hands cracking it open in a skilful way rarely seen in that kitchen, the egg dropped into the pan without a single scrap of shell. The yolk sizzled, breaking the silence in the room, and soon enough several strips of bacon joined the fray.
Ah, perfection. Not a single smell of burning, either.
"Yo, Sebastian!" Bard strode through the kitchen doors, grinning widely, ever-present cigarette hanging unlit from his teeth. His chef's apron was already stained an ashy black.
"Smoking in bed again, I see," Sebastian observed, filling the kettle.
Bard's grin turned sheepish.
"Heh... well, y'know, these uniforms, bloody flammable..."
"Coffee?" Sebastian asked as the water boiled, moving around Bard fluidly while the blond began his own breakfast.
He paused as he went to sit down at the table, that same uneasiness from the previous night coiling around him again. That sickness hadn't returned, and he'd felt right as rain that morning, but something didn't feel right. He just couldn't put his finger on what.
"You won't believe this. Ash came to see me again yesterday. He's signed me up for some fire safety course! Utterly ridiculous. I know how to use fire safely," Bard ranted, divvying up the food between two plates.
Sebastian frowned.
"Why are you only setting two plates?" he asked, and Bard paused mid-rant to give him a confused look. Before Bard could reply, Meirin stumbled into the kitchen, and Bard handed her one of the plates, sitting down himself with the other. Sebastian glanced over at the doorway for the missing player, but no-one else came through the door.
"Where's Finny?" Sebastian asked Meirin. After her usual fluster that Sebastian was actually talking to her had passed, she scrunched her nose and gave a breathy laugh.
"What do you mean? Who's Finny?"
Sebastian looked over to Bard, expecting to see a bemused expression to match his own, but his face was a mirror of Meirin's.
"Alright. What's the punchline?" Sebastian sighed, half-expecting Finny to jump out from behind the door, to laugh with the others at the joke. No-one jumped from behind the door, though, and there was no amusement in either of the faces looking at him. Only growing concern.
"What're you talking about, man? You feeling okay?" Bard asked with a worried frown.
The unease that had coiled around Sebastian tightened. There was no joke here. God knows none of them could lie to save their lives. They... genuinely didn't know who Finny was.