A/N: My mostly finished chapter was on my work computer and I've been in school for the past four days so I just got back to finish this. Warning: mentions of abuse, suicide, and there is some underage action here.

"Rise and greet the day, young master."

"Grrpmh."

Ciel buried his face under his pillow to hide from the sunlight filling the room as Sebastian opened the curtains. He felt the butler give his ankle a playful tug and grabbed the headboard. Sebastian pulled again, this time with enough force for Ciel to have to stretch his arms all the way up to hold on to the headboard. He finally dislodged Ciel from the bed and, tangled in the sheets, Ciel fell off the end of the bed onto the floor. Well...sort of the floor. He rubbed the sleep out of his eye and looked down.

"Top of the morning, my lord."

"Aaahhh!"

Ciel scrambled back as he realized the solid thing he had landed on was Sebastian, who laughed as he sat up with his arms around Ciel and their legs tangled together. His hair was a bit mussed from Ciel knocking him over as he fell, and his eyes were the dark wine color they were when he was relaxed. Ciel blushed and looked away. He was sitting on Sebastian's thighs, and the butler was sitting up so he felt the front of his nightgown brush Sebastian's suit jacket. He expected that predatory look to come back but Sebastian's eyes were light and amused as he brushed Ciel's hair out of his eyes.

"No, stop!" Ciel said, bringing his arms up to hide his face. At Sebastian's touch he had realized his eyepatch was still on the bedstand where he had left it last night after the room was dark.

Hands much stronger than his own pulled his arms down, and Ciel was left powerless as Sebastian exposed him. He closed his eye. His face burned with shame, for it was marred with the most permanent mark of his weakness, that he had been reduced to a victim. Worse still it was on display to a man who was the epitome of beauty and possessed not a single physical flaw that Ciel had observed yet.

"Why would you hide?" Sebastian murmured, raising his hand to the scarred side of Ciel's face.

It had to be a rhetorical question, for no sane man could see under Ciel's eyepatch and not know. Where his eye had been was now just tissue mottled with the different scars left by lacerations and burns. It was a gruesome mix of pink and brown skin that would make the best of men sick. He remembered all too well trying to fight against his captors and the largest of them swinging the branding iron to put him back down. By a cruel twist of fate it caught him directly in the eye. The pain was worse than he could describe, and he found no relief until he escaped. He had taken to the streets and eventually had to remove what was left of it himself.

He explained this to a quiet, attentive Sebastian, who asked, "How did you end up taken by these men? I thought you were raised in the orphanage from a newborn."

"Indeed. The orphanage was deeply corrupt. There was no one to miss us, so sometimes we would be sold off to the highest bidder. When I escaped and the authorities discovered me living on the streets and heard my story, then they found evidence and arrested everyone who worked at the orphanage. It turned out that every member of staff knew what was going on when one of the children went missing. Then it was taken over by Mr. Spears, and everything changed."

Sebastian looked as though he wanted to ask many more questions, but he removed the sheets from around Ciel and helped him to his feet. He combed Ciel's hair and tied his eyepatch back on. "Breakfast will nearly be ready. Dress, and meet me downstairs."

"Very well."

Ciel watched him go. He had never told anyone what happened when he was kidnapped from playing on the front lawn of the orphanage. Or at least he had thought he was kidnapped until he discovered it was staged that way to keep suspicion off the orphanage staff. The only people who knew were the authorities, Mr. Spears, and Dr. Sutcliff, who had patched him up when he saw the mess of a surgery he had performed on himself. It often wept blood onto the eyepatch he had fashioned from old rags. Mr. Spears got him a real one and after a slow, painful healing, his face was as whole as it ever would be.

"Doctor Sutcliff..." he said, raising his fingers to his leather patch. That was who had seemed familiar at the gala. Oh god, the doctor had been wearing a dress and makeup. He always thought the doctor was a lover of men and seemed to carry a torch for Mr. Spears but he never thought he would don a dress. "Fruit," Ciel muttered.

It was the first time since he was hired that Grell spent the whole day in his office with paperwork. Most of his work was hands on, leading William to believe he was just shuffling papers to avoid coming out. Every so often William would find a reason to walk by just to peer in and see if there had been a change. Grell's face was still blank, eyes hollow. It had been stuck in that expression since they watched Alois get taken away. William knew they were feeling the same way about it – that they had failed in their greatest mission, to protect the children.

The sun had gone down when William went to lock the door. He would be spending the night, unable to bear the thought of another tragedy occurring in his absence. Soon only two candles burned on the lower floor of the building. Grell's, and his own. He rapped on the door to the red head's office. When there was no answer, he pushed it open. Grell was slumped over on his desk. Feeling the blood pounding in his ears, William went to his side and shook him violently.

"What?" Grell moaned, looking up from under a fringe of hair. Under his head was a familiar bundle of purple cloth. It was Alois' favorite coat.

William sighed. The doctor hand sewed an item of clothing for every orphan's birthday. He said everyone should have a present on their birthday whether they have a family or not. We'll be their family until they find a better one, Grell had told him. He ran his fingers over the soft material. It had almost never left Alois' shoulders, sometimes he'd even slept in it. His fingers stopped on a damp spot where Grell's face had been and his heart twisted.

"I am sorry," he said, the foreign words tasting odd in his mouth.

Grell turned his bloodshot eyes up Will's. "For what?"

"I failed Alois, and subsequently failed you. I'm sorry. I do not enjoy seeing your pain."

"I don't care about my pain!" Grell was suddenly on his face, tears trickling down his cheeks but a fire burning in his eyes. "What about his pain, Will? How many nights did he sit in his room thinking about how nobody wanted him before he killed himself? How are we supposed to sleep at night, wondering who else might be sitting up there wondering if life is worth it?" he yelled.

"I..."

"Exactly! No one has an answer to this, no one has an explanation because there isn't one! His death was senseless and cruel, life is cruel," Grell raged, and began to knock things off his desk, sending pens rolling in all directions and a glass shattering on the floor.

"Stop, this won't bring him back and upsetting the other children won't due at all."

Grell sent a sheaf of papers into the air. "How can you be so cold? He's dead, Will, one of our children is dead!"

"You think I'm unaware of that?" Will snapped, raising his voice for the first time. He snatched Grell by the shoulders when he went to throw something else and held the red head's arms down to his sides. His eyes must have been furious, as Grell seemed to shrink under his stare. He pushed Grell against the side of the desk and brought their faces close. A wall of ice formed between them, casting Will into a wonderfully familiar, cold isolation with his feelings where no one could reach him. He left his sympathy on the other side of it as he met Grell's watery eyes.

"Pull yourself together, Sutcliff. We should be setting an example for these children, we need to remain strong."

"But-"

Will's temper reached its limits. "Wipe your eyes and hold your damn head up. The children know little enough what to think of their flighty, gender confused physician, I don't need them sobbing all over the place like you, too."

He released Grell and left the office. He didn't look back when he slammed the door behind him, but he was sure there had been a deep fury in Grell's eyes before he turned away, maybe even hatred.

The evening found Ciel further out in the gardens than he had explored yet. He sat on an aging wooden bench, feeling quite hollow. The news had come a couple hours ago. Vincent and Rachel had observed his reaction as though he was a bomb and one wrong word of comfort could make him explode. He had taken the news quite calmly, though, and then excused himself to be alone. He had searched for a place that would bring him some peace and at last he found it surrounded by bushes of blue roses.

Alois had always been unstable. It wasn't that surprising he would take his life. That in mind, Ciel couldn't identify the feeling in his chest that was much like sadness. Pity, perhaps. He was lost in his thoughts until there was weight on his shoulders and he looked up.

"I will be glad to leave you, my lord, but it's too cold to be sitting out here in such thin clothing."

Ciel didn't realize he had been shivering until he pulled Sebastian's tailcoat around himself. It was warm from having been worn all day, and he could have melted into it if such a thing was possible. "Thank you. Er….Sebastian?"

The butler had bowed and made to leave, but he looked over his shoulder when Ciel called out. "Master?"

"Would you..."

He trailed off and averted his eyes to the cobblestone path that spliced the garden. The words dancing on his tongue were too childish, too needy. He did not have to say them, as Sebastian was sitting next to him a moment later, and more surprising still, the butler's arms came up to encircle him. He stiffened at the unwelcome contact. Then Sebastian's scent washed over him, platinum hair and blue eyes flashed in his mind's eye, and he collapsed into the embrace.

"He spent most of our time there trying to befriend me," he said, turning his head so the words weren't lost in Sebastian's chest.

"Mr. Spears mentioned that when he called on the lord and lady. You did not care for his efforts?"

"I didn't care for anyone's efforts. I didn't want friends."

Sebastian didn't buy his flat, bored tone. "You wonder if he would be alive, if you had not rejected him."

Ciel didn't reply. There was no need, as he knew Sebastian wouldn't believe his lies. He closed his eye and let Sebastian stroke his hair. The sun was setting and he was glad for the warmth of the butler's body around him. He thought of Alois' annoying voice and that stupid coat he wore everywhere. He didn't know how he had killed himself, but he imagined him hanging from a noose made of purple fabric, or lying in a pool of blood. Ciel thought back to his captivity, the moments when he wished for death, and felt a twinge of guilt as he recalled Alois following him down the hall babbling about whatever interested him that day. He leaned back from Sebastian and took a deep breath.

Sebastian put his finger under Ciel's chin and tilted it up. In the fading light, his red eyes seemed to glow from within. "No one should have to go through this life alone. You may not have kept Alois from feeling alone, but you can certainly do that favor for yourself."

"Why do I deserve it any more than he did?"

"Because by design you are selfish, my lord, it is ingrained in your human nature to look out for your own best interests."

Ciel didn't know why, but as he replied his eye was looking between Sebastian's and the curve of his pale lips. "You speak as though you don't possess human nature, yet somehow know what my best interests are."

"I have a keen sense of intuition. Your desires are as clear me as they would be if you spoke them aloud."

Sebastian's finger curled under his chin, almost in a coaxing motion. There was an uncomfortable twisting in his stomach that he had come to associate with the butler. He considered Sebastian's words and asked, "What do I desire, then?"

There was too little light left for Ciel to deny it; Sebastian's eyes were glowing red, and his pupils were slitted like a cat's. For a moment he was afraid but a darker part of him was intrigued, excited even. He closed his eye to collect himself and when he opened it Sebastian's face was only a breath away. He didn't know why he didn't pull back but his instincts seemed to be in full control of his body as he once more let his eye fall shut.

He hadn't been kissed before but somehow there was no fumbling or awkwardness. He parted his lips against Sebastian's and felt a burning in his core like he had never known. Sebastian's hand slid from under his chin to his back and raised him off the bench. Ciel had barely noticed he was being moved until his feet were hanging off the back of the bench and he found himself in Sebastian's lap, legs on either side of his waist. He let the tailcoat slide off his back. Suddenly, he was warmer than he could bear.

He shifted to get comfortable and a peculiar but pleasant jolt went through his body as it moved against Sebastian's. He moved again and felt it once more. Sebastian's hands pressed harder against his back in response, pulling him impossibly close. He locked his arms around Sebastian's neck and let the taller man explore his mouth with his tongue. Sebastian tasted of fine red wine and smoke. It was not the foul, stale taste of cigarette smoke but cleaner, almost as though an open flame burned inside him and the smoke lingered in his mouth. It was intoxicating.

He didn't realize he had kept moving until Sebastian moaned into the kiss. It must have felt good to him, too. He tried going up and down a bit to see how it felt. Sebastian's hands tightened in fists around handfuls of his shirt, and a tremble had started in Ciel's legs that was wholly unrelated to his old injury. His head fell back while Sebastian kissed his neck. He moved faster and found that it intensified both the clenched feeling just under his navel and the shaking in his legs.

"Sebastian," he gasped.

Sebastian reached between them to unbutton Ciel's pants. "These are hand tailored for you, my lord, you shouldn't go soiling them."

"Wh...huh?" Ciel only half heard what Sebastian was saying; in the butler's efforts to unfasten his pants, he was touching him in a way that both made his face blaze with embarrassment and his body cry out for more.

Those hands stilled abruptly. Sebastian went still, then in a blur of movement that didn't seem possible he was on his feet and sitting Ciel down on the bench by himself. "Someone's coming," he said, and they hurried to right themselves.

They heard the gardener, Finnius or something, calling Sebastian and went their separate ways. Sebastian went to meet him, and Ciel took the back entrance to the manor to slip up to his room. His unsteady legs barely held him long enough for him to fall onto the bed. He laid down, shoes and all, eyes fixed on the ceiling but not seeing it. He could think of nothing but gloved hands clutching his waist and a dexterous tongue navigating his mouth. He pressed the heel of his hand between his legs as though it could force his arousal back down. The pressure only made him long for Sebastian. He was slightly ashamed that Alois had been forced out of his mind but try as he might to think of the boy, all he could do was wonder what he had just gotten himself into.