Coattails

by The-Pied-Avocet

Adolescence is the dormant rose of winter: a prickled, ugly, tangled mess of vines and thorns, with flowers promised only in the distant spring. "Spring" seems so far off to the demon that must console his angry, hurting charge in the midst of puberty - but it will come, and not without a price that they both must pay.

27. The Dogged

A dogged sheep, as its name heavily implies, is one that has gotten too used to working with dogs, particularly undertrained ones, and no longer cooperates with them very nicely.

---

In a place far beyond the detection or comprehension of mortals, creatures reliant on the human soul gather and interpret the words of humanity. The prayers and grievances and cries and even the writing of humans travel across space and time to this very spot as if drawn to it by magnetism. It is a place of living echoes, a cathedral, a cave. It is a place to lie in wait.

The cacophony of knowledge deafens weaker creatures. They cannot linger here for long. But the beings who are powerful enough to sort through the reverberations of a trillion voices stay and listen for the words of the souls that may feed them.

The beings' reasons for waiting there differ greatly. There is rarely any competition or animosity between them. What one being may consider an important voice another may consider utterly worthless. But within that place of ceaseless knowledge and noise, two creatures slowly begin to eye each other with the understanding that they are there for a similar purpose.

And that purpose is not hunger. It is curiosity.

---

What was the definition of a child?

From the horse's mouth, a child was a weak and helpless person who had to answer to somebody else about everything; someone who didn't know anything about the world yet and didn't have to or want to, because someone else knew; someone who had no control over their own life. Someone who couldn't do anything about it when they…

… answer forthcoming.

Or so the answer should be forthcoming, Sebastian felt. Just because the demon had a very good guess as to what Ciel Phantomhive had endured during "that horrible month" didn't mean it should remain unspoken. Sebastian knew well the repercussions of fear, and shame. He knew the fact that Ciel couldn't even bring himself to think about the abuse that happened at the hands of the cultists meant that both deep-seated fear and shame had the boy in their grips. And Sebastian had come to understand that inner peace was unreachable until Ciel saw that he had nothing to be ashamed of; until he was able to speak the truth and discover that the world was ready to love him as he was, no more or less.

But Ciel was far from ready to speak the truth. The moment he had even tried to do it, his words had stopped short in his mouth and his thoughts had been unable to complete themselves. So the answer should be forthcoming, and so Sebastian had every intention of assisting Ciel on the way to that answer.

But intention wasn't enough. Did Sebastian really know how to help him?

He'd been trying to help the boy for half the summer. That had been the real meaning for their nightly meetings: to get Ciel talking about his past. Well, Sebastian supposed Ciel had talked about his past — every part of his past other than the horrible month. So, though the meetings thus far had taught Sebastian a lot about his charge in their own way, the most important bit had yet to be unearthed.

Ciel was almost certainly going to keep struggling his way towards adulthood if he continued to believe that he already was one. This belief was by half a way of shouldering his duties as the noble head of a house and by half a way of reconciling with his trauma. In both regards, Sebastian knew this meant some things would have to change and that he would need to lead the way when it came to making those changes. Above all else, Ciel needed to see that adulthood was something he was allowed to grow into naturally on his own terms.

But Sebastian's newfound confidence in the power of love was waning fast. He'd been winging it all this time, and often that had been fine, but… now that Sebastian had accepted his role as a parent, it suddenly occurred to him that he was not an expert by any stretch of the imagination. And unlike with chess and cooking and history and language and math… there were no books for raising children Ciel's age. He could not study his way to success as he had in the past. Trial and error were all he had…

Trial and error and Agni!

Of course! Agni would know where to begin: he had already proven his perceptive nature when it came to Ciel. Just the first night of their stay in the London house, he had shown keen understanding of Ciel's insecurities around personal space and special accommodations. And Agni had already made it clear that he saw Sebastian as a friend. This was nothing like approaching the Midford parents for help, where making requests needed to be handled with delicacy; he and Agni were of the same status, and Sebastian could speak with him naturally, without holding back questions or worrying about propriety.

Now was the perfect time to confront Agni too. Soma and Ciel would be resting for the next few hours, and it was unlikely there would be any sudden visitors to interrupt. Without another thought, Sebastian found himself hurrying to the kitchen with a haste that was almost graceless (or at least by his own standards).

When he made it, he shoved open the door to the area in a rush. "Agni, I—"

"Ah, Sebastian, there you are! I was quite sure you'd come here next!" Agni interrupted before Sebastian could get in another word. He was standing by the stove but spun around abruptly to reveal a bowl of opaque golden broth he had already ladled out of a huge cookpot. "Our young masters may be resting, but there is plenty of mulligatawny soup for us to partake in, and it's fresh off the stove! Please help yourself, I'm sure you're quite hungry!"

Sebastian blinked at the assortment of rice and carrots and cilantro floating cheerily in their warm bath. "Oh." The idea of sampling human food yet again could not be less appealing. And his already-unpracticed performance of eating was sure to suffer even worse when there were other things on his mind. "Erm, I'm quite alright, actually… There was plenty of food at the event."

Agni cocked his head to the side with a smile that was only slightly aggrieved. "Ah, what a shame! I was so looking forward to having you try it. But never mind, there will be time later. What did you come for in such a hurry if not a meal, then? Is everything all right?"

Sebastian cleared his throat, leveling his shoulders. "Well. No, not exactly. In truth, Agni, I am very much in need of your help."

With that admission, Agni's demeanor took on an immediate shift. His eyes cinched with concern and the corners of his mouth tightened before he turned to the stove and poured the bowl of soup back into its pot. Then he was facing Sebastian again, locking their eyes. "If you of all people are asking me for help, Sebastian, then I know it must be very serious. Let us sit and talk at once."

Agni took a stool out from underneath the huge wooden worktable between them and waited for Sebastian to sit down across. Sebastian did so, even though it always felt odd for him to sit like this. He preferred standing above all else and could only truly feel comfortable in a reclined position if he was allowed to sprawl wherever he pleased. To sit on a stool was to have some parts of his body engaged and other parts dormant, and it was altogether vastly unappealing. The oddities of human comfort…

But this interaction was revealing to him a point of communication he had never much acknowledged before: that humans sat to show others they were available for conversation, to listen. Sebastian had been sitting or kneeling around Ciel lately, with the thought that young humans were like prey creatures and there was a part of their psyche that must feel like being loomed over was the same as being hunted. He had not realized that the act of sitting had also told the boy I am not going to leave you; I am happy to stay in your company as long as you need. The sudden realization was riveting. He had done something right without even meaning to!

This excitement was short-lived. Agni stared back at him now, waiting patiently yet expectantly for him to begin speaking, and so Sebastian did. "My young master is having a difficult time," he explained. "He is going through adolescence while trying to come to terms with a traumatizing event of his youth. The old feelings snuck up on him at the convention, and he needed my help to face them. I was all too willing to provide a listening ear, yet all the same I am uncertain if I was helpful in actuality. I'm not at liberty to give details of what my young master experienced four years ago… nor, for that matter, do I have all the details to give. I am certain that he wouldn't want me to be telling you this, though."

"I'm glad that you are," Agni said. "Does anybody else know about this experience Lord Ciel had when he was younger?"

Sebastian hesitated. "Some, including Prince Soma, are familiar with certain details, but none know the full story. I am quite sure that my young master does not speak with anyone else as freely as he speaks with me, but there are still many secrets between us."

"I see…" Agni gazed down at the table sadly. Seconds later, he looked up again with a nod. "Then it is very important that you are telling me, Sebastian. Even without knowing what Lord Ciel went through, I can promise you this much: it needs attention. No one was meant to endure pain on their own, children especially. And I have a foreboding sense that what he has been through is especially frightful…"

Sebastian tilted an eyebrow. "You insinuated, when we spoke a week ago, that that was a fear you possessed. Is there something in particular that you think may have happened to my young master? And what tipped you off?"

Agni went quiet, eyelids closing as he thought. When he opened them again, there was something about the look that seemed forceful, as if it was difficult to meet Sebastian's eyes. "I do not often speak of my previous life before Prince Soma," he began steadily. "But I do not necessarily try to shield myself or others from the truth either, for from humility one is able to grow. So, I must admit that five years ago I was not a person worth being proud of, Sebastian. I gambled away gold that I'd stolen from my own family, and drank to excess, and lay with married women who were just as faithless as me. I was an entirely shameful man."

Agni recited all this with clear anguish. Sebastian couldn't quite bring himself to look moved. Really, was that all… it sounded like the typical case of a mortal caving to his kind's natural, primal desires, but Sebastian supposed some demons would find these simple offenses interesting enough.

"But," here Agni's expression turned to stone, "on this dark path I traveled, I met people who were a far different strain of wicked, who lavished not in overindulgence but in causing pain. Especially to those who could not fight back against them." Agni took a long, deep breath. "All that to say, Sebastian, that I have seen evil, and I have seen the unfortunate victims of evil… and that I am very hopeful that Lord Ciel was not such a victim."

After a moment, Sebastian realized that Agni was saying all this to grant him a lesson in what the darker side of humanity looked like, because Agni thought Sebastian was unaware. Well… best not to show how amusing that notion was. He had to stay focused on the reason he'd reached out in the first place. He needed to help Ciel.

"What should I say to him?" Sebastian asked. "How can I convince him to talk to me about this? I've been trying for well over a month, but he avoids the topic because he's very afraid."

Agni shook his head with a gentle look. "Of course he's afraid. It's best to respect his fear and simply focus on reassuring him that you will stay by his side no matter what. If and when he's ready, he will tell you. If you try to force the subject, it will only make him feel that he has no control, or that his feelings are less important than yours."

That made sense. It felt too easy, but… then again, it had never exactly been easy for Sebastian to sit idly (especially not on a stool). "Then is there anything I can do in the meanwhile?"

"Of course there is," was the relieving answer. "For starters, you can show Lord Ciel that you are available to speak anytime he needs. There mustn't be any doubt in his mind that you are completely approachable — or nearly completely, of course, you are a busy person, and it is not always possible. But he must know your willingness."

Sebastian found himself perking at that. He'd already gotten started on that step. He was well on the path after all. "What next?" he said, feeling overeager.

Agni folded his hands atop the table and gave him a kind yet frank smile. "You must spend time together, beyond your duties to him as a butler. I understand that in your position that may be very difficult, but you must do the best you can. Perhaps you could tutor Lord Ciel in a subject in place of one of his teachers. If you didn't have a formal education, you could instead teach him something unique to your skillset that a noble may not typically learn. For example, on top of his other studies I have taught Soma about cooking, and he has enjoyed it very much. I'm not sure entirely of your upbringing, but I know you are very smart and capable! Perhaps there is something you learned along the way that Lord Ciel could benefit from or at least be interested in."

"I used to be my young master's tutor in all things," Sebastian explained. "I only stopped when it became clear that he wanted other professors… Initially, I was the only one he allowed to instruct him." Come to think of it, was that fear-driven too? How have I never recognized it?

Agni was laughing brightly. "Oh, you are very well learned! I should have guessed from your dignified nature. That works perfectly then." He nodded. "But, no matter what, it is vital that you help your young master learn about the most important subject in his life: himself."

Sebastian was confused by that. "I thought I was supposed to wait for him to approach me before I did anything in that direction."

"You should wait for Lord Ciel to tell you, on his own, about the trauma he's suffered," Agni explained. He put a hand over his heart. "That information is personal and precious, and it deserves respect. But there is a lot to do to prepare him for that conversation. For instance… does Lord Ciel even have the knowledge to request your help? How aware is he of his own needs? Does he know how to seek praise, or affection, or comfort? He may need to be taught, and if so he'll need you to be his teacher."

Sebastian had to restrain himself from leaning too far across the table. "And how do I teach him these lessons?"

"At first, you may have to be very plain with him," Agni said. "If you think he is entirely unaware of his emotional needs, you will have to bring them to his attention in very obvious ways. You should tell him you are proud of him often, so that he can begin to recognize his own feelings around your pride and become comfortable with the idea that you are proud. When he seems upset, you should always ask him if he wants to tell you what's wrong. And even when he doesn't seem upset, you should become accustomed to asking him how he feels and if he needs anything, but don't fret if he denies you an answer. In fact, he may find your attention very irritating, but you don't need to hide from him why you're doing this, if he asks. You can tell him it's because it will help him take care of himself — and fortunately, I imagine he'll vastly prefer not having to request praise or affection of his own volition."

Again, Sebastian was gratified to hear he'd done the right thing without needing to be told. But the last sentence left him again confused. "Wait, now. I thought I wanted the young master to learn how to ask for these things on his own?"

"Lord Ciel is very smart, and children are perceptive," Agni said with a smile. "I imagine he'll learn from your example, the ways that you talk to him. And the more you give him opportunities to share his feelings, and help him understand them, the more he will associate his stronger emotions with sharing."

That made sense… humans were nothing if not creatures of habit. Sebastian stared at Agni, rather impressed. "How in the world did you learn all this?"

Agni laughed sheepishly. "The years I've spent with Soma have given me plenty of time to think… When I first began working for him, I realized how naive my prince was, how easily he could veer down the same miserable path I had tread. I asked myself, what would I have needed at his age that could have stopped me from becoming a blasphemer and delinquent? The answer was simple, when it came down to it. If an adult had listened to me, accepted me, and fought to understand me, I would have grown into a different man." He paused and laughed to himself suddenly, perhaps thinking of a memory. "That doesn't mean my younger self wouldn't have needed to learn some lessons the hard way. Sometimes children have to fall in order to grow. But they should never fall hard… Someone should be there to catch them, yes? In any case, when in doubt, you too should draw on your experiences as a child in order to decide what to do."

"Ah…" Sebastian felt the awkwardness of this moment. He didn't have any childhood experiences that could possibly relate to the young master's. Sebastian's development had been less like a baby into an adult and more like a piece of dust into a dark star. There was a time when he was basic and brainless, and then one instant it seemed, like the flipping of a switch, he had survived long enough to have mature, intelligent thoughts. There had never been an innate need for care or sensitivity. He was built to rely solely on himself, like a newly hatched turtle scurrying unguarded towards the sea as the gulls circled overhead. The turtle did not lament the absence of a parent; it was never meant to be parented.

Understandably, Agni misinterpreted the hesitation. "There's nothing to fear, Sebastian," he tried to encourage. "Lord Ciel already has great faith in you, and that faith is there for a reason. He has seen the truth of who you are, and he knows you're someone he can rely on."

Again, Sebastian could hardly keep the bitter irony from tweaking his expression. A demon raising a human child… well, it had always been laughable, but now it was for a new reason. Sebastian had spent countless hours worrying about what was wrong with him for feeling sympathetic. Now it seemed he would spend countless hours worrying whether his sympathy could even be a useful tool. Was he really meant to be a parent? Did he naturally lack the qualities that would allow the young master to heal? He didn't possess the full scope of human understanding. Would Agni's teachings be enough to fill in the gaps?

One thing was definitely true: Ciel knew the truth of who Sebastian was. But did the boy really feel that Sebastian was reliable? Did Sebastian? Well, despite it all, by some miracle, Sebastian had been getting a few things right all on his own. With practice, perhaps he could get the rest right too.

---

Three hours passed before Sebastian ventured back to the bedroom with a steaming bowl of mulligatawny soup and a fresh pot of Kashmiri kahwa tea arranged atop a trolley. It occurred to him, as he arrived outside the door, that this scene was very similar to one in the midst of the circus mission, when Sebastian came to wake Ciel up after he had rested off the tail end of his asthma exacerbation. Sebastian had just been berated by Agni and Soma for not coddling Ciel enough, which had been a very surprising lesson at the time. He had always thought coddling was reserved for infants. But if they insisted…

Of course, the following scene of cooing and attempted spoon-feeding had rendered the young master utterly stupefied, and the Sebastian of that day had been perfectly accepting of the critique, "I don't need your fawning. It's disgusting." But Sebastian was wiser now. He understood that coddling was a thing that all humans needed to some degree, but its definition was not limited to babying. He intended to try and show that understanding more clearly.

So, he knocked gently on the door, was unsurprised by the lack of response from the other side, and entered the bedroom seconds later with the words, "Pardon my intrusion, sir. I thought I would come to wake you, before the evening grew too late." He pushed the trolley before him and closed the door.

Sebastian turned to look at the young master and abruptly had to give a sniff of a laugh. Ciel was not much of one for naps these days and his sleep had clearly been a boisterous one. His head had slipped off the pillow, and one of his legs drooped haphazardly over the edge of the mattress, and the white sheets had been kicked around like snow piles. But with another warm suggestion of, "My lord, it's time to wake up now," Ciel's arms quickly shoved his body upwards with a sleepy grunt. He stared wild-eyed at Sebastian before abruptly turning opposite to look at the window, where he saw daylight was fading.

His head whipped back again. "What time is it?!"

Sebastian beamed down at him as he brought the trolley around to the side of the bed. "Seven on the dot, you'll find. The rest seemed necessary, so I thought it best not to interrupt until now."

Ciel blinked at Sebastian for a moment, then let out a long sigh. "Ugh, that was such a strange nap… I think I dreamt but I don't really remember what it was about…" He scrubbed at his eyes and shook his head and ran a hand through his hair as Sebastian poured and prepared the tea. "I almost wish I hadn't taken a nap at all, but I felt like I couldn't stay awake for another second either, so I didn't really have a choice."

"You had a truly busy day today, sir. And considering Soma came by to tell you about his dream around two or three a.m., perhaps last night's sleep was not of the highest quality either." Sebastian stirred a sugar cube into the teacup and then handed it over.

"I don't know. I barely remembered him coming in, so I'm not sure it was that bad." Ciel went to take a sip, then jerked his head back from the cup in surprise. "Wha—? Why is this tea bright pink?!"

"Ah, yes. Agni was explaining to me that it has to do with the way Kashmiri kahwa leaves are fermented," Sebastian said brightly. "What you're seeing is a chemical reaction caused by boiling the tea with baking soda. The color is then preserved with a shock of cold water. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"You could warn someone before handing them such a strange-looking drink!" Ciel stared into the cup with something like uneasiness, then drank very tentatively, eyeing Sebastian as he did so. He licked his upper lip thoughtfully. "Well, it's very creamy. I wasn't expecting a citrus tea… Hmm. I wonder how feasible it might be to serve this at the Funtom restaurant. Children would probably order it just for the color, but they may like the taste too, even though it's rather complex for a young palate. I'll have to write it down so I don't forget."

Sebastian bowed slightly. "I'm sure Agni will be very pleased to hear you feel that way. Fortunately, you'll get the chance to tell Mr. Cavendish about this idea when you meet with him on Monday to discuss the convention."

With that reminder, Ciel tensed slightly, emotion shifting across his eyes as his memory of the earlier day returned in full: the Funtom event, the altercation with Lord Filbert, the conversation in the Sedgemore guest bedroom, the tears and heartache, Sebastian's comforting… Ciel's expression gradually became guarded with the recollection. He took a distracted sip of tea and seemed not to want to look at Sebastian. "Um… so…" He grimaced. "Do we have to talk more about what happened at the convention?"

Ah, here it was. His chance to try out Agni's lessons. Sebastian tucked his hands behind his back. "No, we do not. We don't have to talk about anything that you'd rather not talk about."

Ciel looked lightly surprised, then disbelieving. "Really? You aren't going to find some surreptitious way to force it?"

Sebastian shook his head and smiled. "No, young master. From here on, I shall do my utmost not to spur you into conversations you'd rather not have. However, please don't mistake my leniency for indifference. If a discussion is what you'd like, I'm more than happy to have it."

Ciel's expression remained unchanged. "No more conversations I'd rather not have… Really. So, just how many conversations do you expect to happen from here out?"

Sebastian didn't take the bait. "I see the young master's sense of humor has woken up as well."

Ciel tightened one corner of his mouth, perhaps a bit miffed that his slight had been deflected so effortlessly. "Still. If you expect me to happily tell you everything I'm thinking and feeling, then you're out of luck. I'm not happy about it. The only reason I'm even entertaining the idea of being more honest with you is because you said it may keep me from… from losing control of my emotions again. And I'll try almost anything to avoid that."

Well, it was a start… "Then allow me to better clarify, young master. I will not force you to have any conversation you don't want to have. But that doesn't mean I won't invite them. You have to decide if you're willing to speak your feelings on your own. And if you do choose to be honest with me about how you feel, I can promise you that I will continue to listen without judgment and with the desire to help you, just as I did earlier today."

Ciel studied him strangely. "And… remind me why you're promising this again?"

It was still too soon for total honesty. "Because I've come to understand that you, like every young person, cannot be expected to grow up all on your own, without any reassurance or guidance."

The studying transformed back into glaring. "... So, whether or not I'm an adult is still in question."

Sebastian shook his head. "On the contrary, sir. There is no question whatsoever that you are not yet an adult."

Ciel folded the arm that wasn't holding the teacup against himself. "How can you say that so easily? Do other children kill for a living? Do other children go on missions for the Queen? Not a bit of me is like a child anymore." When Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, Ciel held up his hand to stop him and rolled his eyes. "Okay, yes, I know, I'm still growing, I'm fourteen, fine, I'm not an idiot. But I don't behave like a child, is what I mean."

Sebastian tipped his head to the side. "But you do, young master. You behave like a child who's been given a lot of responsibility and is handling it the best he can: by showing only his mature side to the world and hiding his fears until they can no longer be internalized." Ciel's mouth opened with disgust. "Apologies if I sound as though I am repeating the sentiments of Lord Filbert. It wasn't at all right for him to belittle you simply because you are young. And I know that you've mastered many subjects and skills. You're mature and intelligent, and you know a great deal about making money and running a business. All of these things are true." Sebastian lowered his chin. "But these are not what make adulthood. Adulthood can only come with time. And you deserve to take that time just as well."

Ciel's posture hunched slightly, temporarily stumped. He chewed at his lip, trying for a new angle. "... But it isn't just that," he eventually said, hesitant but wanting to win. "I told you before that I couldn't be a child even if I wanted to be, and I meant it."

Ah. So he was pushing that point again.

During their conversation so far, Sebastian had been standing up. Given the way the sheets were in complete disarray, sitting on the bed did not currently seem advisable or desirable. But now Sebastian spread his tailcoat beneath him and sat on the least disorderly section he could spot. He leaned towards his charge slightly, who eyed him all the while.

"If you are implying to me that terrible events outside of your control are what make you an adult," Sebastian said deliberately, "then that is certainly an idea we should have done away with."

Ciel stared at him hard, somewhere between affronted and staggered. Out of fear or frustration, his breathing picked up speed, his chest rising slightly with it. Then a thought seemed to occur, and Ciel laughed bitterly, back to being in control. "Damn demon. As if you didn't push for me to act this way. You don't think I had to grow up fast because of you too? The ways you tried to trap me early on into giving up on my revenge? You're insulting me as well as yourself when you say I'm a child, you know."

Again, Sebastian wouldn't take the bait. "I did what I thought was right at the time. It is no longer what I recognize as right. And I certainly see no reason why 'child' should be considered an insult. It was one of the many ways in which Lord Filbert was wrong today."

Ciel was very quiet. After a few seconds, that strange, studying gaze returned. Sebastian studied him back; he could see the gears turning behind the boy's mismatched eyes. Finally, Ciel broke it off. "It looks like you brought food, so let me have it before it grows cold. And then what did you make me for dinner? I didn't end up eating very much at the convention and I slept through afternoon tea, so I hope you have something substantial planned. I'm starving."

Sebastian felt himself relax. It was fine with him that the young master wanted to end the dialogue there… Ciel could have steered things towards an argument or yelled at Sebastian to mind his business, but he didn't, and that seemed like a huge victory for the moment. In truth, Sebastian felt very proud of Ciel for being so comparatively receptive to an uncomfortable topic but recognized that saying so right now may come across as mocking.

So instead, he hopped to his feet and resumed his butler duties. "Apologies, sir; I have mulligatawny soup for you to start with, which I hope has cooled palatably while we spoke. And I assumed you may prefer a proper celebratory feast tomorrow when you are with the Midford family, so for tonight I have prepared something more familiar and revitalizing: a mince pie of the remaining roast lamb and potatoes, accompanied by asparagus vinaigrette. And, since I too assumed you'd be quite peckish, I've prepared a Sachertorte for dessert."

Ciel dipped his spoon into the broth as soon as it was presented and took a brimming sip. "Fine, sounds reasonable. The roast last night was good, so I'm perfectly content to cap off the day with leftovers. Though the cake was an even better thought. I was thinking I should have said something to you about making a chocolate dessert before I went to sleep, so at least you got that right on your own."

Sebastian offered another small bow. "I'm glad to know you are satisfied, sir. I shall prepare a new wardrobe for you while you enjoy the rest of your soup."

As he darted around preparing the clothing, Sebastian tried not to smile too widely to himself. That hadn't been so bad! Really, he'd done pretty well! Ciel had put up a few fences for him here and there, but Sebastian had sprung over them with ease. Maybe he was cut out for this parenting thing after all! And maybe, after that scene in the Sedgemore House guest room, Ciel really was prepared to start viewing Sebastian as a source of comfort. The idea made the glimmer of self-satisfaction soften into warmth. That was what Sebastian wanted now, above all else… for Ciel to no longer see his demon as an opportunist who was waiting to feed on his soul the instant he stumbled, but a mentor to right him before he slipped too far.

The confidence surged in him like blood, the power of his newfound love beating in his chest like a heart. But by the end of that week, he'd come to know that he'd have his work cut out for him. Ciel would make sure of that.

---

Sebastian wouldn't come to understand it the next day. The next day was when he and Ciel traveled to the Midford's terraced home in the Pimlico district along Belgrave Avenue. Despite the area being nearly as opulent as the one around Sedgemore House, the most noble of Pimlico's residents were of the mind that the area had started to "go downhill" since the construction of more affordable housing began. Francis Midford was among them.

"Another Peabody estate is being constructed by the St. Katharine Docks," was the first thing she said after greeting her nephew. She sat tall on the plush drawing-room sofa without leaning back against it and stirred gently at her cup of smoky Earl Gray. "Alexis's father purchased this residence forty years ago so that he could be near the Houses of Parliament, back when development was new. The four of us haven't needed to spend very much time here as a family before, so the local population was never an issue for us, nor something we made note of. But now that Edward is out of college and will be learning firsthand what makes a marquis, he may be visiting the city more often. I think Alexis ought to find us different lodgings in Mayfair."

Ciel accepted his own teacup after Sebastian offered it. "The Gosvenor family owns most of the buildings there, don't they? The rental fees are bound to be ridiculous."

Francis squared her shoulders. "Yes, well, we can afford it. It will certainly be worth our while if it keeps Edward from getting involved with dandies and ne'er-do-wells looking for other young men to join their slovenly way of life."

"Uh, somehow I don't see that being an issue with Edward…" Ciel glanced to the side as if trying to imagine his obedient and chivalrous-to-a-fault cousin attempting to be any bit rebellious against the mother he idolized like anything. "Speaking of Edward, where is he? And Uncle Alexis and Elizabeth?"

Indeed, Francis Midford had been the only one in the huge drawing room when they arrived, not even with a maid or footman available to serve the tea, hence why Sebastian had taken over the duty. "Ah, yes," Francis began, and cleared her throat. "In typical Midford fashion, everyone had a bit of excess energy pent up after spending the last evening in and decided they had better put it to use before you arrived. Thus, a sparring match erupted that lasted well over the course of an hour as the three of them chased each other all around the house… So, I imagine they are currently making themselves presentable for your company."

"I-I see…" Ciel said. That did explain the scuffing on the hall carpets and portraits knocked askew and the maid carrying away the Bristol vase in seven neat pieces that they saw on their way in. But Sebastian knew it also meant that Ciel felt slightly awkward being in the room with only his aunt to talk to. "So… you didn't partake, then? I know you enjoy sparring, too. Even if it seemed to have gotten rather out of hand."

"Of course. Someone needed to be ready to receive you if you came by just after noon," Francis said simply. "I'm sure the three of them will come downstairs soon enough. But this is just as well. There is something that I wanted to tell you privately."

Ciel stiffened at that, and Sebastian couldn't blame him — if this was another conversation about burgeoning adulthood, it was sure to be especially harrowing without Elizabeth's presence to soften the blow. "Oh, uh, w-what is it, Aunt Francis?" Ciel said, expression and tone equally unsure.

Aunt Francis seemed to be stealing herself for the upcoming conversation as well. She sat even taller, an impressive feat really, and fixed Ciel with a serious look. "I am glad," she told him, "that you did not join us for dinner last night."

Ciel had been about to take a drink but here lowered his teacup with inquisition. "Oh? Did something unexpected happen at dinner?"

"No, dinner was fine," said Aunt Francis. "Your attendance is the thing that may not have been fine."

A silence followed in which even a human could have heard a pin drop.

Ciel blinked largely once, twice, confused and careful. "Oh… um… That's… what you wanted to tell me?" he said at last.

"Yes," said Francis. She was resolute for a moment more, then seemed to realize that that statement was rather confusing and chased it with, "Don't misunderstand. I say this because you would have been too tired and your company would have been lacking."

… Well.

It was the responsibility of servants to keep themselves composed and disinterested when in a room where their lords and ladies may be holding conversation, and Sebastian tended to consider his own show of indifference on the level of a marble bust: motionless, passive, not a blink or breath to derive an opinion from. Just then, he was sure he looked like he'd tasted sour milk, and Ciel himself was understandably wilting. "Erm, yeah, I… probably wouldn't have been very much fun…" he said, with the twitching grimace of one who was being insulted by his own family and simply had to endure it.

Francis glared subtly. "No, no, that isn't what I mean either. Listen to me. It isn't about whether or not you would have been enjoyable to be around. It's about whether or not you wanted to be here, and if you didn't want to be here, then we would not have wanted you here."

Sebastian's eyes had grown huge. Ciel's one visible eye matched. Yet Francis appeared to stare at him with strange and pointed expectation, so Ciel lowered his chin and struggled his way through a response. "I-I'm sorry, I, uh… Didn't mean to seem like I didn't want to be here, er—"

"I don't want you to apologize either!" said Francis.

"O-Okay!" chirped Ciel.

"I want you to be honest with me!" said Francis.

"H-Huh?!" said Ciel.

"Do you want to be here right now?" she demanded.

Ciel paused, mouth hanging open. "I… Do you want me to be here right now?" he finally asked.

Aunt Francis's eyebrows were drawn. "Of course I do! Do you actually suppose I would want otherwise?!"

Ciel shook his head. "I couldn't begin to tell you what you want! I don't even know what we're talking about at this point!" he nearly yelped.

Sebastian had been frantically wondering if there was any possible way he could intervene in this conversation and spare Ciel any more of this inane rebuking, but Francis seemed to at last take in her nephew's bewilderment. She sighed heavily and contemplated her tea. "I see I've once again been far too aggressive in what I was meaning to say… Forgive me, Ciel. I'm not accustomed to being forthright with my worries. I'm rather… unpracticed, and unsure of myself."

Ciel stared, still trying to understand what was happening. "Aunt Francis, is everything all right…?"

"Really I ought to be asking you that." She met Ciel's gaze again, and her expression took on a somber quality. "Yesterday at the end of the Funtom convention, when Elizabeth and I approached you, I noticed you looked distraught and perhaps overwhelmed."

Ciel was mortified. He hunched forward slightly. "D-Did I?"

"Yes. That was why I reassured you that it would be fine if you came by today instead of last night," Francis said. "I imagine that when you aren't right as rain, you prefer solitude… I know that is how I tend to feel, and we are alike in many respects. Was I correct to assume that?"

Ciel was still hung up on the previous statement. "Did I really look so poorly? Do you think the other guests noticed? I mean, I had just finished looking at myself in the mirror for ages to make sure I—" He broke off, stole a glance at his aunt, then cleared his throat. "I… Had eaten some food that was making my stomach hurt, so I… wasn't at my best. I'd be very embarrassed if it seemed as though I wasn't enjoying myself. It would make for a negative impression on anyone who was kind enough to attend. And I didn't mean to worry you."

Francis looked at her nephew with a keen eye. She had behaved very strangely up until now, but Sebastian wondered if she was seeing straight through Ciel's story at this moment. Eventually, she took a sip of tea. "... I see. I'm sorry to hear that you felt unwell. I hope if you feel unwell today, and in the future, you will not be afraid to say so."

Ciel gave an awkward half-laugh, likely inspired by tension. "Uh, sure."

Francis's gaze jolted sharply to him. "I am being quite serious right now, Ciel. I… Well, I…" She became uncharacteristically stilted. She closed her eyes. "I would like it if… we could… be more honest. With each other."

Ciel's upper lip began to raise, but he smoothed his features quickly. "You believe there's something we ought to be more honest about?"

She dipped her chin in a single nod. "Yes. I think there are many subjects we should be more honest about. You hardly tell us anything."

That irritated Ciel immediately. Sebastian could see it in the way his grip and posture tightened. "If there is something you really want to know about my life," he said as evenly as he could, "then you should just try asking me about it."

Francis gave a light gasp, looking stung by that answer. On the contrary, Sebastian felt a sudden flash of pride surging through him. A marble bust he wasn't.

"And if you don't have anything to ask, then don't." Ciel took a long gulp of tea, aiming for casual now that his feelings on the subject had been made clear. "I have no desire to engage in forced conversation, and I imagine you don't either."

Francis was still too busy looking surprised to add anything else. Her family spared her from trying. Like a pair of foxhounds roused by the hunt, in burst Elizabeth and Alexis, crooning in delight, "Ciel, you're here, you're here! Hooray!" "Hello, nephew! It's so good that you could join us this afternoon!" They finished hustling over, plopped down on either side of Ciel on the sofa, and hugged him simultaneously, rocking him back and forth between them.

With their embraces clamping his arms tightly against his body and their cheeks pressing into his cheeks, Ciel managed to cough out, "Um, good afternoon, Lizzie… Uncle Alexis… I-I see your sparring match earlier did little to deplete your strength reserves…"

"Haha, of course it didn't! We were only playing, after all!" Lizzie laughed, then pulled away in realization, covering her mouth with both hands. "Eek! Oh, Ciel, I'm so sorry! Are we hugging you too tightly?"

Once Alexis followed suit and released him, Ciel slumped forward and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Uhm, it's fine…"

Lizzie couldn't be kept back for long. She placed a hand on his arm gently instead. "Oh, but Ciel, I must know, are you still feeling poorly from yesterday?"

Ciel clenched his jaw, hating all this attention, this acknowledgment that yesterday's pain had been visible enough to betray him. "N-No, I'm all right now…"

The hugging returned with that, this time only from Lizzie, and more gently. "Good, good, I'm so relieved!" Her curls tossed with the turning of her head as she looked around the room. "Oh, but where is Prince Soma? He should know that he was invited too!"

"He'll join us for dinner, but not before then, I told him. If I have to spend every waking minute with him while I'm in London, he'll be at risk of getting throttled."

"Awww, Prince Soma is so wonderful though! Oh, but Sebastian is here, good afternoon, Sebastian! Why did he come today, is he going to bake something for us?"

"I guess he could if you'd like, but really I just needed someone to carry the board games."

"Hm, the board games—? Ehhh, you brought all those?! Ciel, that's so many!"

"Well, I wasn't sure what everyone would want to play, so I just took whatever I had sitting around."

"Wow! If we're going to play them all, we had better get started straight away!"

"We're not going to play them all, Lizzie…"

But Elizabeth had already scampered over to see the selection, and soon Sebastian was busy helping her take Reversi and District Messenger Boy safely out from the enormous stack he'd carried in. His attention was back on Francis Midford as soon as he was able. Despite minutes having passed, she still had a decidedly pensive look on her face, even as her daughter began tittering on about how they could somehow divide five people into fair teams.

Well, hadn't that prior scene been fascinating? And utterly embarrassing — what a disaster on Francis's part. So, it appeared there were humans who were even worse than a demon was at discussing emotions. It was such a pathetic attempt that Sebastian almost felt sorry for Francis… but more so did he feel sorry for Ciel. Here, the boy's own family was struggling to communicate with him about the most basic of emotions. It was just another reminder of why Ciel turned to his butler far more readily than he did his relatives.

"You must be pretty annoyed with how I handled that conversation with my aunt today," Ciel said later that evening when he was getting ready for the bath.

Sebastian paused only minutely in the midst of helping him remove his morning coat. He had been wondering just how he would try and steer Ciel towards the topic of the day, and there it was on a silver platter. "No, not at all, sir," he said, draping the jacket over his arm. He bent to undo the silk knot of the string tie at the base of Ciel's throat. "Actually, I thought you handled things quite well."

Ciel put a hand on his hip. "But you should agree with her, shouldn't you? You're the one who's always complaining that I'm not being honest enough about how I feel."

"It's as I said yesterday, sir. I shall try to refrain from being so assertive." Sebastian straightened up and brought a hand to his chin. "But, wouldn't you say you were rather honest about your feelings today anyway?"

"..." Ciel contemplated this with narrowed eyes. "Well, I mean. I suppose. Yes."

"And," Sebastian added, "I don't think being cautious about what you revealed to your aunt was at all strange considering the way she was speaking to you."

Ciel flopped on the bed with a snarl and kicked off his shoes while lying on his back. "Ugh, no kidding… But she's always been like that, she's always had far too much intensity. It's no wonder I was so frightened of her when I was a child. That's just how she is, even when she's trying to be attentive, apparently."

"It is different for her to express worry about you, though, isn't it?" Sebastian noted. "It was an abysmal job, to be sure. But it is new."

Ciel pushed himself up on his elbows but still looked at Sebastian from the tops of his eyes. "Don't remind me," he groaned. "It's just more proof that I've changed enough that people have started to notice, and the last thing I want is to be noticed for this. Especially by my family."

Sebastian finished hanging up each clothing item in their respective places. He came back over to the bed and knelt to remove the stockings and sock garters from the legs dangling over the edge of the mattress. "Does saying that make you feel a bit sad?"

After a brief hesitation, a short laugh cascaded from atop the bed. "Maybe it would be sad for anyone else, but it isn't for me," was the almost sneered response. Ciel sat up, looking pleased with himself. "If even a demon wants to know, then it must be a really odd thing to say without feeling any remorse."

Hmm, maybe that wasn't the best wording to use. "I apologize for sounding as though there was any one way you ought to feel. I only asked because I remember your disappointment in your aunt last month when she came for dinner and tried to insert her opinion into your life."

Ciel folded his arms. The pleased look was replaced by one of irritation. "Yes, well, it is annoying," he huffed. "Trying to pin the responsibility on me too… It's just as I said, if she wants to know about my life so badly, she can ask. And then I'll decide how much to tell her, but she can't just expect me to expound on this and that when I'm not even sure what she cares to hear about."

Sebastian picked up the shoes to put away. "Yes, that's absolutely correct. She shouldn't expect you to feel comfortable talking about your personal life if she never grants it time in conversation or shows interest in the first place. I think your reluctance is very understandable."

Ciel opened his mouth and closed it again. "I guess." He looked to the side thoughtfully, then glared across the room at Sebastian standing by. "Why aren't you going to put those away? Hurry up with it and get the water started, I'll finish undressing on my own. I want to get into the bath sometime before midnight tonight, after all."

---

On Sunday, Sebastian wouldn't come to understand what Ciel had in store for him yet either. Sunday was the day that Diedrich came to visit. It too was an appointment held over noon tea, and for it Sebastian made a pot of second flush Darjeeling and a multitude of gourmet finger sandwiches: cold chicken au poivre; anchovy dappled with whorls of lemon zest; pâté de foie gras with slices of bourbon cornichons. Even though Diedrich had only been in the country for a week, he had to catch a boat back to Rotterdam in a few days' time, and despite his gruff ramblings about the Phantomhive name at Friday's convention, seeing the son of his late "friend" seemed to place as an actual priority. Of course, that priority may have been motivated by apprehension of what would come to pass if he didn't heed Ciel's invitation.

"All right, here I am," Diedrich said once they'd settled in the drawing room. He flopped back against the couch with a sigh. "Now what is it you want me for? Surely it isn't just to catch up."

Ciel took a sip of tea and tipped his palm in a shrug. "Why shouldn't it be? My life isn't all business, you know. You live so far from the rest of the Aristocrats, and you travel less often than Chlaus, so it's rare that the two of us talk outside of a meeting. I thought I ought to take advantage."

"Hm, did you?" Diedrich remained unconvinced. His large arms had been folded against his stomach tightly, but now he reached forward for his own tea, as if he'd needed to watch Ciel drink to confirm it wasn't poisoned. "Not the first time I've heard that from your lineage."

"But I am curious about your arrival in England anyway," Ciel continued, a smirk slowly lifting one cheek. "Surely you didn't come all this way on holiday — you've got the lodges of the Black Forest right outside your front door for that. There's got to be another reason."

Diedrich's mouth twitched irritably beneath his mustache. "As a man dedicated to maintaining the peace between our countries, every now and then I take it upon myself to keep your queen informed of the latest goings-on in Germany. As for what those are specifically…" He trailed off, eying the other 'guest' with scrutiny. "Well, I may not be at liberty to say in the present company."

Soma finished swallowing the last bite of a chicken sandwich and blinked in the silence that followed. "Hmm? Are you talking to me now?" he said, licking cognac cream off the tips of his fingers.

"You don't need to worry about him, he's not paying any attention," Ciel assured Diedrich with a lazy wave of his hand. "Even if it seems like he is, he won't remember anything you said later on."

Soma puffed out his cheeks. "That's not true! I listen really, really well, when it concerns me!"

"And how did you get lumped in with the Phantomhive business…?" Diedrich asked, perhaps thinking he'd found a kindred spirit to empathize with.

"Ciel pardoned my friend of his crimes!" Soma piped up.

"..." Diedrich glanced over at Ciel.

"He's the result of some Watchdog business more than a year over with," Ciel translated, shooting Soma a look of his own. "You're supposed to keep your mouth shut about that, you know… Luckily for you, it's fine in front of Diedrich, seeing as he's well aware of the work I do." He returned his attention to his guest and smiled primly. "It's just as I said before. Today you're here not as an Aristocrat of Evil but as a family friend. Let's simply enjoy each other's company, hm?"

Diedrich snorted a laugh. "Family friend… Who in your family ever treated me as a friend? Certainly not your father," he grunted. "And I know the Phantomhive line is all the same… You were such a demure and unassuming little boy, I thought maybe your mother's Dalles blood had come through, but I should have known… The son of Vincent can only be the son of Vincent, and the Queen's guard dog must eventually learn how to bite."

Unfortunately for Ciel, Soma had been paying attention here, and one tidbit in particular had stuck out to him. "Ohhh—! Ciel was demure and unassuming when he was little?!" he gasped, turning to gauge his friend's reaction.

"No," Ciel said unconvincingly.

Diedrich understood he had a leg up on his host for once and continued with relish, "Oh, it was surprising to me too, seeing a sly fox like Vincent with a quivering fawn for a boy. Ciel was always trying to hide from me, in the days back when I visited his father. He used to stand behind furniture and think I couldn't see him."

Soma leaned over and captured a cringing Ciel in a hug. "Awww! You were just a shy little thing, awwww! That's so, so adorable!"

Ciel raised his shoulders up to his ears to free himself from the surrounding arms. "Stop it. I never did that."

Diedrich ignored Ciel. "Adorable, hm… That's what his father would say too. I once told him, 'Your boy isn't cut out for being your successor. He's too anxious and goodhearted. He's nothing like you.' And of course Phantomhive replied, 'He's only a puppy yet, Di. Puppies are meant to be cute.'" Diedrich sighed out his nose. "Well, I guess your father was right in the end. You've grown yourself a real set of fangs, junior. Though you don't use yours so liberally."

"You and Aunt Francis are the only ones who talk about my father that way, though," Ciel said. He seemed suddenly curious, though perhaps he was simply eager to take the spotlight off of himself. "Most of the time when people tell me about him, their impression was of someone very charismatic and generous."

"Bah! Of course!" Diedrich stuffed a whole sandwich in his mouth at once and gnashed away, as if using his own fangs liberally on the food would be as good as chewing Vincent out for the decades of grief he'd given him. He swallowed hard and growled. "Of course they do! He manufactured that reputation very carefully, you should know! All he'd ever let the public see was Phantomhive the charmer, Phantomhive the socialite, Phantomhive the benevolent landlord! But anyone who crossed him would soon learn his tongue was forked. Lady Midford and I were the only two who could get close enough to see him for what he really was and live to tell the tale. Don't let it be lost on you too that your father was a bloody demon."

So accustomed was Ciel to the literal one, it was clear in his puzzled expression that he momentarily forgot "demon" was merely a figure of speech. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Was it lost on my mother, then?" he asked.

Diedrich chewed methodically on another sandwich and looked to the wall as if wondering how to answer. "No," he said eventually, simply. He cleared his throat. "At least, I don't think so. The difference was, she never resented him for his two-faced way of life." He paused again, eying Ciel beadily. Then he leaned forward, one hand on his knee, the other wagging a gloved finger. "See, now, that's just it! You ought to resent me. Here I am prattling on about your own father's faults after he's long gone and buried. Any other boy your age would be taking a swing at me. Storming out of the room. This is the real proof you're Phantomhive's. Of course his son would sit there and encourage more posthumous insults like they're medals of honor to pin to his own chest! Of course. Bah! I wish I'd brought a flask."

At that, Ciel grinned glitteringly. But then— "If you're saying Ciel is proud, I don't think you're right," Soma surprised them all by speaking up. "I know he may seem proud at times, but that's not what it really is here. It's more like… hmm…" He tapped his chin. "It's like… Ciel is the type of person who holds the truth in high esteem."

"It pains me to say this, but he's exactly right," Ciel sighed (though Soma's jubilant "Really? I'm exactly right?!" went ignored). "I've lost my temper over far lesser slights against my father, to be honest, and the reason was not because they were slights but because the nature of those slights was false. So you see, it isn't your opinion that I find so amusing. It's your honesty."

Diedrich stared, scrutinizing. Finally, he leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Somehow, I can see Phantomhive saying that too… But you do deserve some credit, junior: you're very different from him in a lot of ways. I don't think I could stand you if you weren't."

"In what ways is Ciel different?" Soma asked. Ciel sipped from his teacup, seeming to put on an air of disinterest that made Sebastian's mouth tip up at the corners just so.

"Have you got a heart in your chest? There's one," Diedrich grunted. More seriously, he continued, "Like I said… you don't use your fangs so liberally. And you aren't a show-off, you don't crave admiration… and you don't speak in damn riddles all the time. I prefer people who aren't constantly trying to confuse me. Or meaning to talk me into a trap."

Ciel raised his eyebrows and grinned a grin that seemed to be invoking the very spirit of Vincent. "Hm. When you put it that way, it sounds like I could have learned a thing or two from him."

Diedrich's expression stayed resolute. "Maybe it's better that you keep your heart."

Sebastian stood by for this entire conversation, saying nothing, telegraphing little interest. But inside he was whirring with intrigue. Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive were people he knew only through the occasional recounting, for their lives and many of the artifacts that would have defined them had been erased by fire. Ciel had only known them through the lens of childhood, so he wasn't that much more knowledgeable. Sebastian still did not harbor much interest in the soulless, though. His only interest now came in imagining the boy they'd raised before their premature demise: a boy who'd perhaps been demure and unassuming and anxious and goodhearted. A boy that was buried underneath a month of purposefully repressed memories.

"Good evening, young master. How are you feeling?"

This was the way Sebastian greeted Ciel in his office that night when he brought the milk tea. Diedrich had departed shortly after dinner, but even afterwards Sebastian had been cleaning up dinner dishes and taking care of the house — thus, this was the first chance the two had to speak in private since that morning.

"Fine." Ciel pushed a letter he was working on to the side and reached out expectantly for the cup. "I can't wait to get the meeting with Mr. Cavendish over with tomorrow. I'm ready to spend some time out of the host role. I didn't bother to bring any of my estate work with me either, so all I have to worry about this week is any more loose ends related to the Funtom convention. Should be nice."

"I certainly hope it is," Sebastian bid him. He stood in front of the desk and wished there were a place for him to sit down. They hadn't had their nightly meeting in an office in a while; the casual nature of sitting on the bed had become preferable in all ways. "Was the rest of your conference with Mr. Diedrich enjoyable for you?"

"Mhm, it was decent… Wait, no it wasn't! Ugh, how could I forget!" Ciel smacked his armrest. "That rotten Soma! It turns out he can speak a bit of German! Nowhere near as well as he can speak English, but enough to be somewhat conversational! He and Diedrich started speaking it together while shooting me these audacious looks because they knew full well that I had no idea what they were talking about! They might've been saying all sorts of embarrassing things about me, but I'll never know! I wish you hadn't been busy getting dessert ready so you could tell me what they said. To hell with them. I hate being toyed with like that."

"I wish I could tell you too," Sebastian said earnestly. "I'm sorry that they made you feel uncomfortable."

"..." Eventually, Ciel shrugged. "Whatever. To be honest, I'm glad Diedrich decided to visit. I mean, if he hadn't, I would have gotten the opportunity to send him something horrific in the post… like more chemicals for his strange little guest to experiment with. Or, if I was feeling benevolent, a bouquet of bird's-foot trefoil. That would have been fun to decide, heh… But maybe it's better that he did come by. He really is a rather interesting and clever person, if not a bit irritable. But I'm sure my father found that last quality just as amusing as the others."

Bird's-foot trefoil… Count on the young master to remember the flower that symbolizes a warning of revenge. "I must admit, even I was very interested in some of Diedrich's insights on your parents' lives. But even more interesting to me were the insights he could provide about you. I don't think you ever told me quite how shy and conscientious you were, though Tanaka has shared that much with me."

Ciel shrunk in his chair only slightly, but Sebastian would always notice such minute actions. "I wish he wouldn't mention that. It's embarrassing."

"Yes, Diedrich did seem to want to paint you in a negative light. But I think Soma's response was more reasonable. I think he found the stories about you endearing, not worthy of ridicule. And I can promise you Tanaka is no different." Ciel huffed and Sebastian asked, "How do you feel right now?"

"..." Sebastian was sure he'd be told to drop the subject, but Ciel let it slide, for now. "Frustrated. I don't like it when people talk about me without my permission or control. Especially when it's about who I was before I became an earl. It doesn't feel like they're really talking about me."

"It doesn't, sir?"

Ciel lowered his eyelids. "Would you ever describe me as 'demure'?"

Well, he had him there. "No, I suppose I wouldn't. But that was Diedrich's word. Would you have described your younger self that way?"

"Uh… I… Well, maybe, actually…" Ciel grimaced, moved uncomfortably in his chair. "I told you some things about my childhood, how I used to get scared so easily. But it's fine if it's me recounting it. When someone else brings things up… especially things I don't remember… it feels the same as it would if they were telling lies about me. I mean, I haven't been that person in almost five years. So why mention it at all? I can't think of any reason other than to embarrass me."

"To reminisce, perhaps?" Sebastian offered. "Why, I was just thinking to myself a few days ago about how much you've changed even since our contract began."

Ciel looked disturbed. "You were? What the hell for?"

"Now, now, my lord. Even for a demon, the act of reflection can be an engaging pastime."

"An engaging pastime, hm?" Ciel took a long gulp of tea. "Thinking about the past for pleasure… Never considered it."

"Certainly you have, sir. You've done it during our nightly meetings, as I just mentioned."

Ciel gave a single, harsh laugh. "Oh, that? That wasn't for pleasure. I only told those stories to make you regret your decision to talk to me."

But Sebastian wouldn't soon forget the look on the boy's face when he'd recounted his childhood, during those summer evenings not so long ago. "Well, I consider it lucky that you did share with me your memories, regardless of your reasons. I never regretted the time spent listening."

Ciel made a puzzled face that quickly faded into annoyance. He started draining his glass of tea, seeming well ready to wash his hands of this subject. "Well. Great. Good for you."

Sebastian would never be sure if that conversation had planted the seed in his young master's brain that led to the next day's events. All he came to know was that Ciel had found free time again, and he had one very specific way he wanted to use it: putting his demon to the test.

---

Monday started without any warning signs. In fact, at first the only unexpected events were merely pleasant. Their ten o'clock arrival at Sedgemore House and meeting with Mr. Cavendish led to the revelation that Funtom had, rather shockingly, made money from the convention. It was not an event that had been arranged with the anticipation of turning a profit or breaking even: its existence was for the sake of social responsibility for Ciel and publicity for Funtom. And most of the auction items had sold in-line with their estimated value. The exception was the exclusive Bitter Rabbit dolls, which had ended up going for an impressive £3000. For any of the middle-class partygoers, such an amount could take a lifetime to accrue, but certain members of the nobility could spare such enormous sums on their little superfluous whims. Ciel wondered aloud if next year they should put a cap on bidding to keep the playing field even for all collectors, but ultimately decided against it in favor of future donations to orphanages (and, this particular year, on bonus checks for the seamstress department, as thanks for their impressive work imitating zardozi embroidery on three hundred miniature vests).

The second bit of good news was that Fairclough was no longer in London. A Sedgemore footman passed along the message that he and Erickson had left early for Oxford, as there were apparently logistics that needed sorting a few weeks before the school year was to commence. Fairclough added that he would be sure to write whenever his official lodgings were decided. Ciel was understanding, nearly indifferent, but Sebastian was piqued. Had the two gentlemen escaped London to avoid crossing paths with that mysterious unnamed man at the convention? How desperately Sebastian wanted to know, but his suspicions would have to go unspoken and unanswered — for now.

They returned home around half past eleven to an empty house. Soma and Agni would be out until early that evening, having traveled to the Limehouse district to offer curry buns to East India Company sailors and their families, as one of their many exercises in charity. Until then, Sebastian and Ciel had the house to themselves.

Sebastian seized the opportunity to take on some of the maintenance jobs Agni was unable to complete on his own. The garden, for instance, was in need of some taming, and while it was a task that would usually take a competent groundskeeper at least half a day to tackle, with just a touch of diabolical flair Sebastian had it looking rightfully trim and neat by lunchtime. When the midday hour struck, he headed downstairs to the kitchen, and only had just set foot in the area when he stopped in his tracks. Ciel was sitting at the worktable on one of the stools, halfway through what looked to be a substantial slice of last night's Donauwellen cake and going in for another bite.

Sebastian stared at Ciel. Ciel stared at Sebastian. They both stared at each other, but only Ciel seemed prepared for this moment.

And yet… this scene was not entirely unfamiliar. Sebastian remembered a similar event around four years ago, just a few weeks after Ciel's decoration ceremony. The ten-year-old boy had been about to enter his first social season as the noble head of a household. Sebastian had still been basking in the glow of his epiphany that this soul was finally going to be a meal worthy of its cultivation. But on that particular day four years ago, it was merely a normal evening in the Phantomhive manor, and he'd ventured into the kitchen to get started on preparing dinner when he heard small sounds coming from the dry-larder.

Sebastian was alert to the presence at once. Hmm? A rat? And yes, a rather large rat, it seemed. When he opened the door, Ciel was standing inside eating from the plate of Viennese whirls left over from afternoon tea. The little sneakthief was already halfway through one of the oyster-shaped biscuits when he whipped his head over to see Sebastian. Ciel did not look exactly surprised at the intrusion, though he did look apprehensive.

Sebastian had fixed him with a dry look. "Young master. Just what do you think you are doing?"

"... I was hungry," Ciel had replied eventually. He then took another tentative bite of the biscuit, his gaze not leaving Sebastian as he did so. He was watchful, analytical, impertinent.

And sly — that explanation did not ring to Sebastian as being fully truthful, a thing he was all the more aware of since he had become barred from dishonesty. Sebastian strode forward into the small room. "If hunger was the only trouble, you would have called for me. But you know very well I would have made something healthy to eat, something you may not have been keen on. That is why you are here sneaking biscuits like a miserable foundling, instead of asking for them like a lord who was only recently titled by the Queen."

Ciel had blushed slightly at that but held his ground. "Don't treat me like a coward for getting what I want on my own! I knew you wouldn't bring them to me, so I got them myself!"

"Exactly, I wouldn't have. And repeat to me why that is," Sebastian had said, raising his chin.

Instead of reciting the lesson back to him, Ciel tossed out, "Because you think you know what's best for me, but you're just a butler and I'm really the one who's in charge."

Ah. It's going to be like that, is it?

Sebastian darkened the room just a tad by pulling at the shadows. "I see. So I'm just a butler." Ciel's bravado faltered as he suddenly recognized he was cornered. Sebastian's grin down at him was a fanged one. "Ah yes, in the face of his noble lord, truly the humble servant is diminished… Is that what you mean to say to me, sir? That I am to remember my place? Well, then, perhaps you should remember yours… because right now, what I see isn't a newly minted earl but a pompous little brat."

Ciel did his very best to maintain a scowl — though the shine to his eye was undeniably humiliated and a bit frightened. It made the Sebastian of that day very pleased to see it.

"Now." The light of the gas bulb returned to its full radiance so suddenly that Ciel's shoulders jumped. Smiling prettily, Sebastian held out his hand. "Unless the little brat would like to continue showing me his best impression of a nibbling mouse, I suggest he hand over his treat… or else his lowly butler may never believe he is a lord worthy of his estate. Hmm?"

"All right, I get it!" Ciel dropped, nearly thrust, the remaining biscuit into Sebastian's waiting palm and brushed past him aggressively. "You don't have to be so pointed! A good butler isn't a bloody nag either, you know!"

Sebastian followed him out of the larder. "A butler is merely a reflection of his master, sir. If you find my manners to be lacking, I would consider shaping yourself into someone worthy of the level of respect you desire."

Ciel had spun around. "It's not like I did this because I wanted a lecture!" he yelled. "All I wanted was a couple stupid biscuits! But I guess nothing is easy with you around, is it, damn demon! Now get started on my dinner and leave me alone!"

Sebastian's lesson, when driven home by fear and shame, had seemed to work… mostly. Ciel would still occasionally go scouting for dessert, but he had become much craftier in his methods, perfecting them to the point that sometimes Sebastian wouldn't know what had transpired until much later (the missing head of a certain chocolate statue came to mind…). But there was no subtlety here whatsoever. Ciel was sitting at the table right where the doorway could frame him like a portrait, licking a line of buttercream frosting off the prongs of the fork and leveling Sebastian with a blue eyeful of apathy.

Your move.

"... I see you have decided to switch your lunch with your afternoon snack today, young master," Sebastian began carefully.

Ciel shook his head. His face had no discernible emotion. "No. I've decided I'd like to have cake for lunch and for afternoon tea later too, actually."

"Surely that can't be very enjoyable…" Sebastian frowned. "That much cake…"

Ciel snorted. "As if you would know. You don't like anything that I can eat, and I think it's a fine idea. But you see, this conversation is making me uncomfortable, so I don't want you pushing it any further. You can just go ahead and prepare me a smaller lunch to accompany it."

Sebastian narrowed his gaze. Disappointment pooled in his chest. "Very well, sir." He walked briskly into the larder and began selecting a couple of yesterday's leftover finger sandwiches from the shelf.

He didn't hide totally that he was irked by Ciel's statement that the conversation 'made him uncomfortable.' How could he hide it? That verbal defense was a gift offered as proof that Sebastian valued Ciel's feelings more than he did answers, and already the boy was treating it like a joke. Give me an inch and I'll take a mile, he seemed to be saying. It was a lesson that Sebastian was all too used to teaching his contractors. It was not a lesson that was very pleasant to be on the receiving end of, and it was certainly not the first time Ciel had turned that lesson's teacher into its pupil. But why now, when Sebastian was so sure they had been making progress?

Because this was progress.

Of course. Ciel had wanted Sebastian to catch him eating dessert. He had probably planned all along to tell Sebastian the conversation made him uncomfortable too. And why? For the same reasons he had drunk an entire bottle of wine and left the proof out on the counter. Well, the same general idea — Ciel was not currently in distress. He did it because he wanted to know how Sebastian would handle the problem. He wanted to compare the Sebastian of today to the Sebastian of their early contract and come up with a conclusion about what the differences meant.

The disappointment went away, replaced by admiration. Really, he should have guessed the young master would be so clever… But this was no time to be idle. The all-too important question for Sebastian to ask himself remained unanswered: what conclusion did he want Ciel to come to about him?

Four hours later, it was time for afternoon tea. Sebastian brought the trolley to the library, where Ciel had been working through a short stack of newspapers that had reported on the Funtom convention. On the tea table beside him, Sebastian arranged a cup of Earl Grey and a small bowl filled with something unusual given the hour. Ciel looked at the bowl, looked up, and said plainly, "That cake looks an awful lot like cauliflower and bechamel sauce."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows before returning to the trolley and bringing over the slice of Donauwellen he'd hidden behind the teapot. "Some miracles are beyond even a demon's capabilities, I'm afraid," he said as he put the plate down beside the cauliflower.

Now it was Ciel's turn to consider the playing field. His eye glanced between the two foods. Cauliflower was certainly not his least favorite vegetable, but cake was cake. And then there was that other detail. "This isn't a food that's meant to be eaten at afternoon tea." Ciel picked up the bowl and held it out. "Are you forgetting your basics?"

No, and he wasn't forgetting Agni's lessons either: You don't need to hide from him why you're doing this, if he asks. "I think you know well I am not," Sebastian began. "I am offering you what you asked for alongside a healthier option, because you have eaten a lot of sugar today."

Ciel shrugged. "I don't really care."

"And there's nothing I can do to make you," said Sebastian. "But you ought to know that I do care about what you eat. So, I have laid out multiple options to enjoy however you please. Who knows, you may be glad for the variety."

"I don't think I'll have enough room for both," was Ciel's final, weak argument.

Sebastian dipped his head. "No matter. Shall I leave you to it then, young master?"

After a long stare, Sebastian was granted a tight-lipped, "... Mhm."

Oh, what an unexpected trial! As a being whose life revolved around eating well, Sebastian had always found himself very concerned with what the young master put into his body. It had taken a lot of willpower to deliver that second slice of cake. And if this dessert argument continued into tomorrow, Sebastian knew he would have to put a stop to it somehow, but right now it was more important to let the intelligent boy interpret exactly what Sebastian wanted him to: that there wasn't going to be any more reliance on the tricky methods of their early contract, no scaring or forcing Ciel into behaving a certain way. There was going to be choice and discussion and transparency and compromise. They were going to be a team.

To Sebastian's great relief, the dessert debacle did not continue into tomorrow. The reason was most likely because Ciel knew it was somewhat juvenile and didn't want Soma or Agni to bear witness (he had even eaten a few pieces of cauliflower after all!). And Sebastian still had plenty yet to help with around the manor, the outsides of windows to scrub and gutters to clean, so that he had nearly put the events of yesterday behind him until the hour of milk tea and talking came along.

The previous night's meeting had been short. Ciel said he was surprisingly tired ( Perhaps because of all the sugar, hmm? No, no, don't say that ) and would be ready to turn in after he finished his drink. Tuesday night was the opposite. Sebastian found Ciel in the library once again with what looked to be an older issue of The Cornhill Magazine in his hands.

"Mr. Doyle was kind enough to enlighten me on a story of his I missed that was published at the beginning of the year," he explained with a half-grin. "He even offered to send me a copy of the January issue it was featured in, and it arrived here just this afternoon. I can't wait to read it."

"Now, sir?" Sebastian's head turned to the mantle underlit by the fireplace. 9:00, as he knew it would be, but he wanted to direct Ciel's attention to the time. "This is the hour you usually begin getting ready for bed. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait until tomorrow?"

Ciel shook the issue open. "No. I'll just stay up late and sleep in if I'm tired."

Oh, for goodness's sake… This had to be another test. Sebastian knew he'd have to approach this carefully. "The story must be rather exciting, then, for you to be unable to wait even though you must be getting sleepy."

"I'm not 'getting sleepy,'" Ciel huffed. Then he smiled again. "It is an exciting story. But mostly it's supposed to be rather haunting."

Here Sebastian stiffened. Another memory stirred… The morning of his thirteenth birthday, Ciel had woken up in such a blind panic that he'd pointed his revolver right in Sebastian's face. The reason? Nightmares inspired by reading Edgar Allan Poe before bed. So this was the real test… Only it was especially troublesome that Ciel would put himself in the way of fear this time.

"Young master, you know that such stories are likely to affect your dreams," Sebastian said, putting just a hint of firmness in his delivery.

It didn't work. "Oh well. It's worth it to have the chance to read something new from my favorite author."

"But is it really worth a nightmare?" Sebastian asked.

Unfortunately, it was the wrong question to pose. "I don't want to talk about my nightmares. That makes me uncomfortable."

There he was with that again… But, fine. Maybe it was better that Ciel abused the phrase at first, if it meant he might better recognize the instances when he was feeling uncomfortable emotionally. "Very well. I shall return in half an hour to see if you're ready then."

"No need. You can just wait till I call you."

But it wasn't given as an order, and so Sebastian was not bound to it. Of course, he assumed part of this test was showing Ciel how well he could respect such loose and disagreeable statements, but that didn't follow what Sebastian wanted to prove: that no matter what passed between them, Ciel would still be cared for. Even if the boy decided to stay up late scaring himself with horror stories, nothing would change this fact.

At 9:30, Sebastian returned — and was promptly vindicated. At the knock, Ciel's responding "Come in" was distinctly rushed in quality, and his expression looked more than a bit spooked.

"I told you to just come back when I called you," he said stiffly, not quite angrily.

"My apologies, young master. It wasn't my intention to cause you alarm." Sebastian gestured with his head at the magazine still in Ciel's white-knuckled grip. "Are you finished reading and ready to retire now?"

Ciel didn't look finished reading, but apparently he was ready to retire. "Mhm." He put down the magazine and practically scurried out of the room past Sebastian, as if not wanting to be in there another second. The light from the fireplace had grown rather dim and flickering at that point, no doubt adding to the atmosphere. Young master, you didn't have to force yourself…

It was clear that Ciel knew this particular scheme had backfired. Whatever test he'd wanted to put Sebastian through, his own test was the harder one. He was rather quiet and seemed off in his own head all while Sebastian got him ready for sleep. When it was time to lay down and turn off the lights, there was an air of reluctance to proceed.

"It may be to both our benefit," Sebastian offered, "if I were to stay here until you fell asleep."

Ciel stood in front of the bed and glared at him strangely. "Both? Why do you say that?" Again, the tone was far more wary than angry.

Sebastian pulled back the sheets for him to climb beneath. "That story seems to have left you rather shaken. If my presence can help prevent a nightmare, then I think we'll feel all the better for it."

"..." Ciel was silent when he first clambered into bed, though the immediate and unconscious reaching for his favored pillow seemed to say all that needed to be said. Finally, he mumbled into it, "You can stay."

Sebastian couldn't help it. He smiled. "Very good, sir. Then, I promise I shall be by your side until restful sleep claims you."

So he stood there in the darkness, waiting patiently for breathing to even out with sleep's hold. His frustration about the whole event had evaporated the instant Ciel admitted the need for help. Really, what was there to be frustrated about anyway… Ciel had every right to test him. "Damn demon. As if you didn't push for me to act this way," the boy had told him, and it was perfectly true. The Sebastian of their early contract was conniving and two-faced and ready to snap his teeth at Ciel's heels the moment he began to trip. Even Sebastian's acts of 'kindness' during those first months, of bringing Ciel hot milk with honey and waiting in the room after a nightmare, weren't done from a place of earnest love so much as a place of wanting praise and appreciation from the human he'd someday devour the soul of. And while receiving a bit of praise truly would feel nice after working so very, very hard these past few months… Sebastian knew that wasn't why he was doing this anymore. He was doing it for Ciel.

The human he'd someday devour the soul of.

…

---

Wednesday morning's Ciel had little comment to make about last night and seemed to want to move on from it very much ("Yes, yes, I slept fine, now I'm starving, what tea did you make me? Is breakfast almost ready?"). Again, Sebastian respected his boundaries. But he was wondering in what ways his own respect and patience would be tried today. Surely Ciel was devising another test for him, and he felt hypervigilant for it, for he wasn't even entirely certain he had received passing marks on the previous two tests. Just what was it going to be…

He would never come to know the answer. Their plans for the day were changed entirely by a ten o'clock phone call.

Sebastian answered at the third ring. "Phantomhive London residence."

"Hey, mornin' Sebastian. Just callin' to ask how the weather's like in the city. Wind pickin' up at all?"

The accent and cadence of speaking were immediately recognizable. "Ah, Bard. Yes, I suppose I have noticed some howling, now that you mention it. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's gettin' windy here as well, and Tanaka thinks a real bad storm is on its way. Can feel it in his joints, some older folks are like that. Anyway, it might not come on fast, but it also might, so I thought I'd call and see if you want me to pick you up a few days early instead. Or would you rather hole up in London?"

Sebastian couldn't imagine Ciel wanting to be cooped indoors with Soma for who-knew-how-long. "I shall broach the question, but I am certain the young master would like to return to the main house, yes."

"Great. Wasn't gonna say nothin', but… I'm sure we'll need your help holdin' down the fort if it gets real bad."

There was a sudden jostling sound. "And Mey-Rin and I are getting reeeaallyyy sick of eating pancakes… We miss your cooking, Sebastian, please say you'll come home now…"

"Hey! Finny! Don't interrupt when someone's on the telephone! And I thought you liked my flapjacks!"

Ah, that was a good reminder. "I shall purchase some extra provisions for us at the markets in case we'll need to stay inside for many days. Bring the carriage around at one o'clock. I should have the young master ready to depart by then."

"Right, okay. Be seein' ya."

As predicted, Ciel had no grievances about the change in plan and agreed it would be best to return home before the storm could progress too far. Soma, however…

"Nooo! It isn't fair, it isn't fair!" the prince bawled when Ciel was eventually forced to break the news as Sebastian began carrying their luggage and newly purchased comestibles to the foyer. Soma held a pair of fingers up in Ciel's face. "Two weeks! You promised me two whole weeks! That means I'm supposed to have until Friday with you!"

"It isn't my fault if the weather changes," Ciel said, brushing Soma's hand aside. "It's just the way it is. Nothing to be done but keep a stiff upper lip."

Soma's lower lip was the one that saw significantly more use, and it was employed here to execute a very pathetic pout. "We don't know that it'll storm for sure! Maybe it'll blow over and then you'll have left for no reason!"

Ciel glowered. "I'm not risking it, Soma. Pull yourself together; the last twelve days didn't go anywhere. And it's not as though I live in Germany like Diedrich. Once you leave the city, my house is under an hour away."

It wasn't good enough. The tears spilled over and the sobs began. Before Ciel could say a word, Soma had latched onto him like a tree-dwelling creature. "No, no, no, no, it isn't fair! I won't let Ciel leave! He lives here now!"

"Why are you speaking that way?! Calm down, don't hug me so tightly!"

"S-Sorry… I just don't want you to goooo…"

Ciel sighed and continued to endure the (slightly looser) hug as Sebastian finished checking the rooms for the last of their possessions. The sobbing calmed to sniveling, but when Bard pulled up to the front drive, the waterworks began anew. Soma attempted to appeal, "Agni can make you whatever desserts you want! And I promise I'll be really, really quiet whenever you want to read! You just have to promise you'll stay, please don't go!"

"Tempting as your offer is, I'm going and that's that." Soma's grip tightened again, and Ciel warned, "Look, if I have to get Sebastian to peel you off of me…"

"You WILL have to! You will!" blubbered Soma.

Perhaps because Ciel knew just how frightened Soma could be of his demon, he finally had to smirk. "Let's keep that as a last resort," he mused. "Seriously, I'm leaving no matter what. Now what do I have to do to prevent any more fussing?"

Soma's tears seemed to halt as he considered this. "You could hug me back for once…?" he tried hopefully.

How Sebastian wanted to turn around from delivering the suitcases to the carriage just to see his young master's expression. He was sure the effort of the decision would be written all over Ciel's face. Sebastian did admittedly carry things rather quickly and left them to Bard and Agni to load so he could perhaps glimpse the results of the choice. As he crested the stone steps, he was able to witness Ciel patting Soma's arm placatingly and saying, "There, there you are. Now will you let go?"

Soma didn't let go, declaring petulantly, "That was not a hug!" Then a crafty glint came over his eye, an idea forming that could only have come from spending so long in the Watchdog's company. "But I guess I should have known. You must not be able to hug people who are a lot taller than you, hmm?"

Ciel bristled. "That has nothing to do with it! It doesn't even make any sense! I-I just don't like to!"

Soma cuddled his captive's head closer. "Mhm, suuuure you don't… Well, then I guess I'll—"

Suddenly, Ciel threw his own arms around Soma just long enough for his fingertips to meet around Soma's back. The "hug" ended almost as soon as it began.

"There," Ciel huffed, two pink circles already appearing on his cheeks, and he managed to duck away. "Now I have to leave, goodbye."

It was a maneuver that too harkened back to the circus mission: dumbfounding Soma with an act of friendship to create an opening for escape. And Soma was stunned just long enough for Ciel to rush past Sebastian to the waiting carriage, but then the prince took in a huge gasp and darted outside to join Agni on the portico. He started waving furiously, boundless joy replacing the sorrow. "Goodbye, Ciel, goodbyyyyeee! I'll miss you soooo! Come visit again in the near future, or I'll have to visit youuuu!"

"Don't you dare! Not without a letter you won't!"

"Oh, goodbye all too soon, Sebastian," Agni bid him as well, somewhat teary himself as he put a hand on Sebastian's arm. Privately, he added, "I hope when circumstances feel difficult, what we talked about will come in handy. Know that I believe in you, but please do write to me if you are ever in need of a friend."

After a second to process it, Sebastian granted this unfamiliar reassurance a polite smile. "Thank you, Agni. I shall bear it in mind."

So, with Agni and Soma bidding them safe travels from the entryway, and the wind to their backs, the carriage tottered out of the drive and onto the thoroughfare, bound for home.

"Those two are always a boisterous pair," Bard commented as he reined the horses right at the next street. "You have a nice stay, then?"

Sebastian considered the past week and a half. A lot had happened in just that short span: the end of the nightly meetings, the Funtom convention and all that came with it, the renewed nightly meetings, the visits with the Midfords and Diedrich, Ciel's latest manner of testing his butler, and of course the chores that fell in between it all… Each day, the hour at which the three humans finally fell asleep had been a welcome break. Could one really describe all of those hectic, confusing, busy, spontaneous, and emotional moments during the daylight hours as 'nice'?

One certainly couldn't describe them as 'boring.'

"Yes," Sebastian said. "Yes… I believe we did."