riverviewlogs | A celebration of family, eh?

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A celebration of family, eh?

who: Ciel Phantomhive, Undertaker, Vincent Phantomhive, those invited to spend the holiday
what: Celebrating Hygge with cocoa by the fire
when: Second day (and on? maybe?)
where: Phantomhive/Undertaker house
warnings: None

He'd spent a late day in the store the day before, having several Bitter Rabbits customized to share at least a passing similarity to their recipients. And when they'd been finished, he carefully wrote out notes for each, boxed them, and set them out to be delivered the next morning. Two of them, he packed up to take home with him, to give to their new owners personally. They were in an unmarked box at least, easily covered up as something for work that he didn't want to leave.

He hoped the invitations would be accepted. At least in their own home, his father and Undertaker seemed at least a bit excited for Hygge. Even if it was something unique to this world.

Ciel also made sure the had plenty of ingredients for cocoa and plenty of marshmallows for it. His sweet tooth demanded as much. Anything else he was sure would be asked for. A shop wasn't too far away that they couldn't get anything needed or wanted. Or so he hoped.

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The flinch was something small, almost indistinguishable from what he could see, but it was enough that Undertaker drew his hand back and kept it to himself. But the despair was there. He couldn't help but notice it, however small.

"There are things that might be done. What makes you think you can't change it now?"

He had a sneaking suspicion he knew the answer to that already. He had seen it all happen in action over the network post, seen what the demon said before the contract was formed, and that spoke volumes. But to a child, in pain and agony and desperate for a way out, he would have taken anything without thought to consequence. It was all demons thrived on, and the more corrupt the soul, the more appealing.

The retreat of his hand immediately made Ciel feel bad but he was absorbing as lot, and then the idea of breaking his contract...

He'd never once backed out of something he had thrown himself into. Not really. It had been nearly four years of almost complete disregard for his own well-being since he knew Sebastian wouldn't let him die. Not while his soul was still being made into a perfect meal for him. And he was already thinking his way through removing the brand on his back.

"He said he'd never leave." That mark on his eye was supposed to keep him tied to Sebastian. "That the price to cross had been paid... Ciel..." His hands clenched helplessly before one reached out grasping at Undertaker.

"And at the school- at Weston. He said he wouldn't let you rob him of my soul." He paused and then softly: "I don't know."

He had intended to stay as he was, but considered moving to the table again to gather his rabbit. Rather than doing that, he was halted by Ciel's hand reaching out to him, holding him in place with or without actually meaning to do so. So he stood there and he listened, as he was wont to do.

What he heard tore at him in some small way. Of course the boy had been told what he had by the demon. Of course he would believe it, despite his own wonderings on why Ciel believed the word of a demon at all. Even as a noble, a child's mind would only endure so much before any relief sounded good.

He couldn't blame the boy for not being able to see past it even now. He'd been trained to think of nothing else; he needed the demon. "Milord, he told you many things. You swore him never to lie to you, but only from a point on. You must be smarter than this. Think beyond his cage."

His hold was light, easily broken if Undertaker wanted to step away but for the moment he felt like an anchor for the teen. An anchor and safety. He'd been that for him for months so far. He'd gone from relying on Sebastian to relying on Undertaker but he at least wanted what was best for him, not his soul or anything else. Just his safety and happiness.

It meant so much.

And he was right. His orders had only come after the cultists were dead and he was freed, their manor burning to the ground. His only real reassurance had come when he asked Sebastian about if his brother had been dead.

"I don't know what to think anymore." He admitted, voice still soft. "I like it here though. With you and father. I'm... I'm happy."

And he hadn't thought he'd really ever have that again. Not after the attack, after everyone had died.

Rather than break the hold, he turned and reached for the mug to set it aside if Ciel would give it up. He sighed and set the other hand on the boy's shoulder, still smiling and almost amused with the whole thing if not for the seriousness of what they were discussing. In his own mind, he was certain the Earl was not happy. How could he be? Hounding his parents' murderers, all of his smiles less and less honest by the minute.

What sort of life was that? What happiness could Ciel have had in any of it? The joy of revenge? Then how long could that hope to last when a demon could come to claim him when it was all said and done?

But when Ciel said he was happy then, Undertaker believed it. He hesitantly believed it. "You will someday. You've been able to get yourself this far without the demon. Why don't you keep following that which kept you going on your own steam and see what it says?"

He'd let the mug be set aside, his then free hand falling to his side. Undertaker was right though, he'd let go of a little more each day over the years. What point had there been in being happy when the length of his life remained so unpredictable. More so than another humans life.

"I haven't been on my own though. You've been looking after me." And a few other people but they didn't know everything. They knew a few things, enough that they didn't give up. Undertaker knew everything though.

"I... suppose I can do that though."

Mug away, he reached down for Ciel's hand and led him from the kitchen to the couch to sit him down, where it was softer and more comfortable than the hard wood of their chairs around the dinner table. It seemed that they spent most of their time there now, enough so that he kept a blanket folded over the back of the seat, but he left it as it was. Bill would have to wait on the table for him.

"After a time, I did. We weren't living together at first. Those days were something that you pulled together yourself to survive here. This place isn't so cruel and you were cared for, to be sure, but anyone in your position would have been, and you still stood tall. As always, my lord."

It was what the boy had been raised and expected to do, after all. "I know you can. If or not you believe me, I think you forget you're stronger than you look, asthma and everything. When the time comes that you decide if you want to keep the seal or if you want to remove it, you'll let me know."

Ciel let himself be taken to the couch. And it wasn't missed by them how often they settled there, either to relax or for more serious talks. This was a little of both, almost.

He let himself relax against the cushions and watched Undertaker. It was true, he hadn't lived with him at first, and he had managed on his own (mostly) after his roommate had moved out. Although, he wouldn't say those instant meals and restless nights were him managing well.

"I'll remember." He was strong. He'd endured a lot. Sometimes he didn't want to be so strong though, even if he hated being weak. "We can... at least get rid of the brand..."

Poor boy. This was what happened when he kept himself at a distance from everything, but it wasn't something he could correct back home, not without remembering what happened here. He wondered if he would, if they ever could go back. In the next moment, he'd put it all aside and gave Ciel's hand a little squeeze.

"Is that truly what you want?" Just another terrible mark of the past, something to be fixed and never forgiven. It thrilled him to no end that the Earl was considering removing it, but the decision was Ciel's alone. "I hope this isn't because I had it done myself. Don't feel like you must."

Back home, it wasn't often he thought about actually returning. He thought about home often enough but the idea of going back made him both homesick and terrified. He'd hate to lose all he gained, the people he met, while here, but there were things left undone in England. Hos brother and Lizzie for one.

He let Undertaker's voice draw him back to the present and the hand holding onto his. And then the strayed again, just a little, to the mark on his back. A moment passed and he nodded.

"I... hate it..." It felt like the cultists were mocking him still from where ever they were. "I don't want a reminder of them anymore."

"Brave boy." It wasn't often that he referred to Ciel as anything other than 'milord' but this occasion was something different. He lifted Ciel's hand to his lips and put a light kiss to the back of them. "We wouldn't ever have been able to consider something like that on the living in our time, but I am delighted to hear you want it gone."

After a moment, he let the hand lower back between them where it had been as if nothing had happened and gave it a light swing. "We'll let you pick the time and date and work things out with Doctor Crusher from there."

He noticed, and couldn't help but blink up at Undertaker in surprise. Personally, Ciel was sure this counted as being brave. It had acted as a reminder for him over the years, a reminder of what the cult had done to him and Ciel. In the back of his mind though, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it at the moment, he knew he'd never forget any of it.

Letting him pick when to do it though, it was probably equally reckless and kind. Without thinking, he knew he'd probably back out if given too long to think about it.

"As soon as we can."

No doubt, the boy wanted his scar gone as soon as he could arrange it. He wondered if Ciel would have made the same decision back home, had such technology existed then, without having the mortician around to prompt him for it, in a time and place when they both knew the mark was on the Earl. But here and now it was, and if they ever went home, even if they wouldn't remember the time they'd spent here, he hoped Ciel's skin would remain as clear as they could make it.

It wouldn't change much, not outside of the boy's mind, but that was all that mattered.

"Then we'll speak with her tomorrow and see when she is available to take care of you."

No, probably not. Not with a demon whispering in his ear and constantly feeding the anger, his desire for revenge. There probably wouldn't have even been a consideration back in England, at the idea of removing it. Back home, was it really even home anymore, he would look at it to solidify his feelings on what had happened.

"Don't..." He licked his lips, suddenly feeling dry. "Don't let me back out. What they did to us..."

He had to think how to phrase the next part but it didn't take much thinking at all. All he had to do was avoid details.

"What they did to us, I can't forget. So I don't want the reminder on my skin."

He knew enough of what had happened to know it was bad and there was no better way to put it. The cult had taken a sweet, shy boy and given him fear and hatred enough to bind to a demon from hell. That was all. He turned his head slightly, watching Ciel now, and his grip on those fingers tightened ever so gently.

"Why would you back out of this, milord? This is a mark that reminds you of the worst time of your life. You don't need it. You already have those memories, and they are quite terrible. It isn't as if you'll suddenly forget if you can't see that spot there on your skin."

Ciel hated thinking of what happened but he'd forced himself over the years, it made him angry enough to keep going. It made him want revenge all the more, it had helped. Sebastian had as well. And when that wasn't enough-

"Whenever I doubted my goals... I would look at it and I would be furious, all over again. Like it had just happened. I would pursue revenge just that much harder." He didn't need revenge anymore though, did he? Not here, not if he wasn't going home.

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A celebration of family, eh?

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