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who: Ciel, Jason Todd, Undertaker, Beverly Crusher
what: Ciel has an asthma attack
when: 9/17
where: Book store, hospital
warnings: None?

He'd had time during the day, business was slow and if he stayed, he might have fallen asleep in his office. So he'd sent a message to Jason, inviting him to join the teen at a local bookstore to pass the time. And with the intent of picking at his brain a bit for more reading material, things he could read to keep himself up at night until he was too tired to dream.

If he couldn't dream, he couldn't disturb anyone.

He got himself a cup of tea while he waited, resisting a cough. What an inconvenient time to get sick. Hopefully it wouldn't spread to Jason- maybe he should have thought this meeting over more carefully.

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Beverly nods back at Undertaker, all animosity forgotten. Right now, he's simply another parental figure worried about their kid. Maybe other doctors would shoo him away, but as long as he doesn't interfere with her work, she's content to let him stay. She brushes Ciel's hair off his forehead and her voice is soft and soothing as she says, "Shhh, no, don't try to talk."

For a moment, she turns her attention to the nurse, telling them what she needs in a soft murmur. Something about a nebulizer. As soon as the nurse is off, Beverly turns back to Ciel and the Undertaker. "You're going to be okay, I promise. We have a special machine that will help you start breathing better and then we'll talk about a plan moving forward."

Her next question she directs towards Undertaker, so Ciel won't be tempted to talk too much. "How long has he been having these attacks? And do you know what sorts of things trigger them?"

Even if she can't see his eyes, she has what else of his attention he can devote as they are. The touch to Ciel's hand, the touch to his forehead. The words to her assistant. What's a nebulizer? He'll find out soon. But it's her professionalism and her care that he's watching, and he can appreciate it and approve of what he sees. Perhaps Ciel means a little more to her than other patients because she knows him personally, but for now he'll be willing to say he can trust her. It gives him something to anchor onto in all of the uncertainty of the medical world around him. He'll definitely have a new subject to research later.

"I don't know. Had it since he was about five, I would say. I've only ever been witness to two other incidents like it, heard about others from his father, but that's all I know. He was sick quite a lot when he was younger, though for the last four years we've been a bit estranged."

The fingernails over the boy's back haven't stopped moving, haven't stopped offering contact. Still one long stroke up, one long stroke back down again, and it will be like that until they need him to move away.

Don't try to talk, he can remember his aunt giving him similar advice. And the doctor in the circus. Both dead now but at least someone dedicated to their profession. In the back of his mind, he hoped Beverly would continue to be more dedicated than either had been.

He gave another couple harsh coughs and then nodded at Undertaker's answer, raising a hand and all of his fingers to confirm, yes, he'd been five when the fits started.

Oh, Ciel. Her brow furrows with sympathy. To have something like this in the time that he does... she's reminded of the helpless frustration she felt in that cholera ward in 1890. Now, however, at least she can actually do something about it. Not as much as she'd be able to do at home, but enough.

She just wishes they had said something to her earlier.

The nurse soon returns with the nebulizer. As they set everything up for Ciel, Beverly explains what's going to happen. "Okay, Ciel, I'm going to need you to sit up as much as you can for me... that's it... and they're going to pour that medication in, see?" The nurse screws the mouthpiece on and hands it to him. "Now, when we flick on the switch, the medicine will start to vaporize and then you'll be able to breathe it in through the mouthpiece here. Breathe in with your mouth, hold it for about three seconds, then let it out through your nose, nice and steady. Ready?"

Saying anything about his illness had never been a strongpoint with him, not after That Month and all the work he'd put into turning himself into the Phantomhive family head. In England, admitting anything could ruin him, and that was a habit that was hard to break.

He eyed the nebulizer, then glanced at Beverly and back at Undertaker before going back to the doctor. They had nothing like this back home but he could associate it with something.

"Like... like asthma cigarettes then?" They'd always had some in the manor when he'd been young. Mostly for Rachel but he'd used them in bad cases. In any case, he gave a nod and took hold of the mouthpiece, raising it to his lips.

Ah, so that was a nebulizer. He watched what the nurse did with it carefully, as much as he could, making note of how to use it. That he didn't know exactly what was being put into the machine bothered him, but he made no protest and didn't try to stop when Beverly offered the tube to Ciel to have him start inhaling the vapors.

Now it was just up to that strange liquid to get the boy breathing strong again.

The nurse turns on the machine's switch and it starts making a soft, rumbling noise. It'll take a moment for the vapor to start, but when it does it's colorless and mostly odorless, though Ciel will be able to able to taste the medicine a little when he breathes in.

Beverly frowns at his comment though. "Cigarettes? Please don't tell me... they gave you cigarettes?"

He could definitely taste it, enough to make a face as he breathed it in but he didn't stop until told. There was a bit of a question in his gaze though. It wasn't as if he'd been smoking tobacco or spending time in Lau's opium dens.

He did speak up after a moment though.

"We always had some. For mother mostly." And then right back to the nebulizer.

That they kept asthma cigarettes around didn't surprise him - he'd known about Rachel's health just as well. She seemed a little healthier though, as an adult who had gained a little strength against such things would be. That she carried and safely delivered not one but two healthy sons at the same time was testament to her will.

It was in his thoughts for but a moment and back to the present he went. He kept his breaths coming in deeply, out slowly, but it wasn't meditation or a means of calming himself. His nose would pick up the scent if it got near enough and it was strong enough to him. His sense of smell had improved over time, and he wanted to know more about this medicine's scent without directly hanging his head over the nebulizer and taking a whiff of it.

"They may offer temporary relief but in the long run, cigarettes will only make your asthma worse." She sighs softly. Even the albuterol will be an imperfect solution, but at least it won't make hints worse. She just hates not having access to the technology and medication from home that would completely cure him. "How are you feeling now?"

He watched both the adults for a moment before taking an experimental breath of his own. It felt better to breathe already, and it was a little strange compared to past attacks. Last time, he'd coughed so much trying to breathe that he'd thrown up and woken up in the medical tent in the circus.

"It was what we had." He'd hated the taste when he'd last tried, and hadn't gotten more since his parents deaths. The question though-

"Better. Tired." He leaned more heavily against Undertaker, glad for the mans hand on his back and that he'd been able to get him to help.

That wasn't a move he'd expected when he heard the Earl say he was tired. Perhaps leaning back into the pillows or curling again on his side, something that involved a little more of the bed than him. But he wouldn't argue, and he wouldn't protest. He could stand there all day if he needed. Rather than guide the boy back to the bed, not now at least, he settled a hand the child's shoulder and let him have his comforts.

"Good that you're better, but you ought to rest then. It's been a long day for your poor lungs."

It's one of the few times she'll seen Ciel act more like a kid than an adult and she's glad he has Undertaker, however else she might feel about the man. "Don't worry, we'll let you get some sleep in a few more minutes, once the treatment is done. I'm going to give you a prescription too, for a rescue inhaler." She points at the nebulizer. "It's like a smaller one of these, but with the same medication.Something you can carry with you in your pocket."

Ciel immediately makes a face at the idea of carrying something around with him. In the back of his mind he understands the need of something like that but the part of him that's spent over three years being head of his estate wants to reject the idea.

Between Undertaker and Beverly though... He's smart enough to know it isn't a fight he'd win. Even if his butler were there.

"Fine."

What, he wondered, would a pocket sized version of this machine do for the Earl that it took so much of it right now to do the boy any good? He trusted Beverly, but his curiosity about all of this was more than a little justified. He opted not to ask about it and leave his own questions for later.

He curled the fingers on the hand on Ciel's shoulder and set about scritching the shirt there just for the sake of doing so.

Beverly's expression is sympathetic. "I know it's not ideal, but it's better than ending up back here again."

The vapor from the nebulizer is dissipating and the liquid in the bottom half of the container is almost completely gone, so Beverly switches the machine off.

"There." She presses her stethoscope to his back. "Now take a few deep breaths for me."

If it weren't for Undertaker's hand on his shoulder, he would have tensed immediately at the stethoscope on his back. Anyone near his back made him uncomfortable, the risk of his brand being seen growing higher. She didn't lift his shirt though, and that combined with the reapers presence was enough that he could keep his breath steady and take the deep breaths she wanted.

Looks like the good doctor needs that space. He'll move his arm back just so slightly so that his sleeve isn't all over Beverly's work space on the boy's back, but his position at the side of the bed doesn't change. It wasn't hard to hear asthma lungs, certainly not with his ears, but he paid particular attention anyway.

For a minute or so, the room is quiet except for the sound of the machines and Ciel taking deep breaths. Apparently, whatever she hears is satisfactory to her as she straightens back up with a smile and sets the stethoscope to the side. "Much better." She looks at Ciel. "We'll give you a chance to rest for a bit while we go over some paperwork, okay?"

And he relaxes instantly, as soon as there's no risk of his back being seen, as soon as he's given a clear on his breathing. A promise of rest is welcome, that's for sure, but for someone who has never been in a hospital before, the idea of paperwork does bring a guilty grimace to his face.

"And then we can go home?"

Ah, yes, the paperwork. He's only all too familiar with that, having dealt with the hospitals back home on a regular basis. Fortunately, he's not the one having to sift through it all this time, but he's sure the Earl is familiar with forms and signatures, having run and managed a business.

"Yes, you can go home, I promise." She smiles softly. "Though I will want to set you up with a follow up appointment. If you prefer, I can make it a house call."

"Whichever would be easiest for you." So he'd probably return to the hospital, even if they weren't his favorite places in the world. He'd avoided them this far into his life, he might have liked continuing the record but that was far out of the question now.

While they sorted out the details of the boy's follow up, he stood silent as always, still lacking the smile he usually carried even though the danger had well passed by now. Had the boy not been leaning into him, he would have moved back to the chair in the room where he'd slept the night before, but for now he stayed and observed.

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