Listen: After Rockwell made the deal with the Phantomhives, he immediately turned, not home, but to his therapist. Lock was the cheapest doctor in the entire block. His work was not poor or lacking, he simply enjoyed his job and took care of people from the goodness of his heart. However, that was not the case either. His other motives were hidden under lock and key.
Rockwell heavily clambered up the stairs and entered the small apartment, rapping lightly. Lock opened the door. When he did, Rockwell thought he saw a distinctly black shape moving behind him, like a shadow. It went away too quickly for Rockwell to decipher the shape exactly.
"Is your son home?" Rockwell asked in a hushed voice.
"Yes, but he is asleep." Lock answered back in a similar whisper.
"Does that boy of yours ever wake up?" Rockwell huffed in sustained laughter. Every time he dropped by the boy always seemed to have fallen asleep. He simply assumed the boy was too ill to remain awake for very long. Lock confirmed that to be the truth when questioned.
The doctor and his patient walked to the office. Rockwell slumped down on the bed, causing it to groan and squeak. Lock took his seat and grabbed his papers, watching expectantly.
"You've come earlier than you normally do, Rockwell, why is this?" Lock said.
Rockwell leaned forwards. "I have tied the deal with Ciel Phantomhive."
Lock dropped his doctor act and set the papers away, leaning forwards. Excitement lingered in his eyes.
"You have?"
Rockwell replied in the affirmative.
"Excellent, excellent…"
"You know," Rockwell wrung his fat fingers together, "It feels wrong to swindle such a young man."
"He's only a child!"
"Exactly why I feel that way."
"But you do it all the time."
"But this boy had the oddest butler at his side, looming like a shadow with bright, ruddy eyes. I feared for my life when I made contact with that unholy being!"
"You forget who we're working with, Damian Rockwell." Lock furrowed his patchy brows.
"I fear I'll drive myself mad…" Rockwell shook his head in distress, but did not move from his spot.
"Need I remind you that you are perfectly safe with me?" Lock smiled wolfishly.
"Your wife wasn't, need I remind you?"
Lock stood and Rockwell realized at once that he had treaded into dangerous territory.
"She was incompetent. She could hardly care for herself let alone another human being. It was only best of her to perish in mercy rather than raise a child who she would end up forgetting easily." Lock turned away.
At the door, fragile and pale, walked in Ven. He rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away the sleep from them.
Lock moved over, concerned.
"My boy, what has gotten into you? You need sleepy," he said compassionately, pressing his hands to Ven's shoulders.
Ven covered his yawn with bony fingers. "I'm sorry, father, but I wanted a drink of tea. My stomach's unsettled."
Lock smiled warmly and led his son into their kitchen, which saddled alongside the pitifully unused living room. He set the kettle.
"I can handle it from here, father." Ven said in his mousy voice.
"Of course, yes…" Lock rubbed his son's shoulder and went back to his office, signaling for Rockwell to leave.
"Well," the man huffed, shaking Lock's hand vigorously, "I'm pleased to have had this chat with you, old boy, I certainly seem to be in a better condition."
"Farewell, come back whenever you need to." Lock replied. Once Rockwell left, he turned back to his office and shut the door.
Ven poured himself the green liquid and scurried back to his room, holding the steaming cup to his chest to warm himself up in the act.
Zadig waited patiently for him.
"Why did you not ask me to bring you tea, young master?" He asked.
Ven took a sip from the hot tea and seated himself at the corner of his bed.
"I wanted to see if I could listen in."
Zadig raised his eyebrows. "Pardon me, but wasn't it you who told me distinctly not to pry?"
"I know, and I am a hypocrite in my words and morals, but I had that dream again."
"Only fools chase their dreams."
Ven examined the seal on his ankle, not touching it. "Then call me a fool. But the dream was ever so compelling and realistic. I saw wolves and hounds and horses, all galloping after something, or someone, I couldn't make it out. But they kept running and running! What sort of place do you think would require such a rush from all those beasts, Zadig?"
"Something very important, I would assume. Are you sure they were running towards something? Were they not running from something?"
Ven stared pensively into his reflection in the tea.
"No, Zadig, I don't think so. They were not afraid, but rather determined." Ven looked up quite suddenly. "I forgot. There was also a crow."
Zadig did not respond until Ven had finished his tea. He took the empty cup back to the kitchen and returned to find Ven already asleep.
Ven had very little weight to him, weighing about as much as a large bird. His butler picked him up and set him down neatly, covering him with the scratchy bed spread.
"So, Sebastian…" Zadig said, watching his young master sleep soundly. "I fear we'll meet again, and very soon at that."