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Chapter Text

Sebastian sat back in the lifeboat, feeling his head spin, tasting blood in his mouth, and most of all being near consumed by the stabbing pain in his chest. The scythe had gone through his lungs and his stomach, so that was going to cause him problems, he thought bitterly. The bizarre dolls had at least relented, for the time being anyway.

Ciel sat against him, shivering from the cold and still dripping wet, with Sebastian's tailcoat wrapped around his shoulders. There was that now familiar rattling quality to his breathing, which tipped Sebastian off to the fact that Ciel had an unpleasant few days ahead of him as well, and he tried to reason that the promise of yet more work in his weakened state was what fuelled his dread. Still, there was at least something he could do to help.

Sebastian closed his eyes and concentrated, willing the warm blood that had fled his extremities in light of the biting chill back to the surface of his skin. It would be tiring, and would make the already heavy bleeding from his chest worse, but he suspected Ciel's asthma was due to return with a vengeance so the least he could do was remove hypothermia from the soon to be list of ailments. It was bizarre how he'd grown so... fond of to what was going to be his food.

"Sebastian, please try and stay awake," Ciel requested. Ciel's hoarse voice was the only sound beyond the lapping of water against their lifeboat, and both their ragged breathing. Ciel was, in theory, identical to the hundreds if not thousands of humans he had slaughtered and eaten without batting an eye, just another little blink-and-you-miss-it blip in a long string of non-existence. Unfortunately Sebastian had seen so much of that little blip, seen how much life could be packed into three years, seen precisely how much intelligence and emotion and complexity could exist in something so ephemeral and... well, it had had unforeseen consequences.

"Please do not concern yourself my Lord, if I were going to die I would have done so already. Blood loss alone cannot kill a Demon," Sebastian replied, opening his eyes none the less. Ciel made no comment, and relaxed against Sebastian's side, still shaking. Sebastian smiled to himself. His skin warmed, whilst his core body temperature dropped, but it would take more than a chill to kill a Demon, or else he would have been dead long ago.

An hour later splashing prompted Sebastian to his feet again. Holding the oar he’d been using to row in a firm grip, he stumbled forward, struggling to keep his balance on the rocking boat. His eyes landed on five or so more of the dolls, their skeletal hands and sunken faces breached the surface, some of their skin even starting to slip from muscle. Sebastian quickly put himself between Ciel and the dolls and readied himself for yet another fight.

He dispatched the first with a swipe to the head, but a second grabbed the oar, nearly pulling him forwards into the ocean. Sebastian instead landed on his knees in the boat, and leaned forward to grip the doll's head in one of his hands, crushing its skull, but not before a third had bitten down hard on his outstretched arm and a fourth had started clambering aboard. Exhausted, Sebastian grit his teeth and tore his arm from the jaws of the third doll and knocked the fourth back into the water. Instantly, three were upon him at once. One's head was bashed in with the handle, the second by the paddle, and the third by the middle of the oar. Thinking it was finally over, Sebastian relaxed, only to see the look of horror on his young master's face just before a pair of bony, wet hands grabbed him from behind.

Ciel's cry was cut off when Sebastian's head went under the water. A pair of teeth clamped down on his neck, so he opened his mouth, gulping down water instead of air. Several wounds burned from the icy saltwater, and the possibility of just letting sleep take him was worryingly tempting. Still, that would be no way for a Phantomhive butler to behave. He would not lie down and die like an injured animal.

Sebastian grit his teeth pushed the doll off him with the oar, before turning round, his movements sluggish on account of the cold, water and fatigue. He gripped its head in his hands, and crushed the brain inside, before desperately flailing his way to the surface.

Sebastian gasped and choked when he finally reached air. He didn't technically need to breath, but panic had his mind in an iron grip, so he wasn't really considering technicalities. Leaning on the boat to hold himself above the waves, he coughed up what was equal parts salt water and blood, as Ciel scrabbled over. Still wheezing, Sebastian hauled himself back onto the boat. If anything attacked them now, Sebastian thought as he finally landed back in the lifeboat, they were going to have problems because that had used up the last little dregs of energy in him. Perhaps things were not going to go as smoothly as he'd hoped.

Cursing under his breath, Ciel hovered in front of him, trying to work out what to do. Sebastian was about to assure Ciel that it was worse than its looked, when his stomach churned and a second later he was leant over the side of the boat throwing up something that made his throat burn. Finally, he collapsed on his side and lay limp, panting, but the shivering had at least stopped, and he just lay still. "My sincerest apologies... This is not any fit state for a butler," Sebastian murmured, still clutching the oar in his hands.

"It can't be helped. Just... be sensible so you remain in this state for as little time as possible," Ciel replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He must have lost his voice. Sebastian smiled slightly, for he had nothing else to offer his young master now; there was no heat in him to push to the surface. The most he could do was hold onto his slipping humanity.

Roughly a quarter of and hour later, the rescue ship loomed into view. Sebastian forced himself to his feet, his muscles shaking with the effort. He felt, frankly, awful. He was lightheaded to the point where he could hardly keep his balance, he felt sick, and every time he took a breath or spoke blood and sea water would catch in his throat and stabbing pain would grip his chest. He wanted to curl up and sleep, but he had much to do before that was even an option. No, he had Ciel to worry about. He'd done his best to shield Ciel from the wind, but beyond that he was of little help, and the boy's health was worsening at a concerning rate. There was the beginning of blue in his lips, and it seemed to be with growing difficulty that he was getting air in.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying to work out how best to get the ship's attention. "There are-" Sebastian felt his throat tighten as something sticky caught his in lungs. Ciel looked up in mild alarm as Sebastian doubled over coughing; it took a good minute for him to get his breath back, and even when he did his first few words were quiet and raspy. "There are two survivors down here!" It was a struggle to be heard over the waves crashing against the ship's hull, or the wind that rushed whistling and biting over the sea. Thankfully, one of the men clearly looking for survivors, happened to spot them, and Sebastian watched as the man's cigarette dropped from his mouth, before scrambling for the ladder. The cigarette landed in front of the tiny lifeboat, its end still faintly glowing.

Sebastian changed gloves (his current ones were soaked in blood) and offered a hand up to Ciel. He pulled Ciel to his feet, before picking him up in one arm; Sebastian doubted his young master would be able climb up given his ankle and general health. "My apologies for the blood, my Lord." Ciel didn't respond. Sebastian summoned up the willpower (little else was keeping him going) before grabbing the first rung of the ladder and hauling himself up, not daring to look down.

Each step up was a Goliath task. Shifting his own weight with only one hand was hard enough, but Ciel, slight as he was, sincerely didn't help, and with every rung hurt threatened to loosen his grip and send them both tumbling into the ocean. The top of ladder felt like it would never come. The further up he went, the harder the wind pressed against him. Once or twice he was nearly blown off, and on several occasions his hand slipped or he lost his footing and he felt gravity hauling him downwards, only to swing himself froward and get back his grip; he'd have to stay still for a few seconds until his head stopped spinning and the nausea died down. Still, he would not give up. He would not, Sebastian realised, let Ciel die.

Finally, he reached the top. One of the sailors plucked Ciel from his arms, before grabbing his hand and hoisting him up the final few inches. Sebastian collapsed onto the deck, coughing and panting, the blood rattling in his lungs with each breath. He heard one of the sailors swear, before an arm pulled him to his feet. Sebastian forced his weight off the sailor so he could pick Ciel up, not even bothering to look for the man's reaction. He wouldn't allow himself, no, wouldn't be able to rest until his young master was treated. To Sebastian's surprise, Ciel pushed him weakly off. "I can walk fine on my own… you've done more than enough," Ciel muttered, struggling to his feet. Sebastian was more than surprised at the resolve of his young master, but didn't have the energy to argue. One of the sailors led them both to the ship doctor, occasionally helping Ciel when he stumbled, but giving Sebastian a wide birth. Other times, Sebastian might have been a little disheartened by such a reception, but he was well beyond the point of caring. He had one goal and that was to get Ciel to the doctor so he could get something for his asthma and ankle, and anything after that wasn't his concern.

The sailor pushed open the door to a slightly panicked man in his forties, but didn't follow them in. The man, the doctor presumably, nearly dropped his cup when his eyes met the gaping hole in Sebastian's chest, and all the colour drained from his skin. "I can wait. You can treat my young master first; he's got a sprained ankle, he's asthmatic, and I fear he may be hypothermic," Sebastian rattled off, his voice dangerously steady. Whether it was his voice, that he was still walking with a hole through him, or the fact that he'd been running off nothing but adrenaline and bitter determination for the past few hours, the doctor merely swallowed and nodded. It was Ciel's turn to look shocked.

"Stay still and apply pressure to the wound," the doctor stammered, sliding out a chair for him. Sebastian sat down heavily. Seeing doctor tending to his master, Sebastian shut his eyes and finally let himself relax.

Chapter Text

Ciel watched Sebastian go limp on the chair over the doctor's shoulder, absentmindedly answering the man's questions and letting him scramble around the office for supplies. Sebastian was paper white, to the point where you could see his veins underneath his skin. His lips were blue, and his face that had seconds ago been filled with cold resolve was now slack; he looked dead, save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. That wasn't even mentioning the blood... There was a long, scarlet trail showing where he'd been, and it gathered on the seat of the chair, soon dribbling off the edges. He knew blood loss couldn't kill a Demon, and he knew Sebastian wasn't human, but it didn't make the sight less worrying.

"Can I ask you and your butler's names?" The doctor asked, probably to distract Ciel from the sight of his heavily injured butler.

"Earl Ciel Phantomhive… and Sebastian Michaelis," Ciel replied numbly, before coughing. He could barely feel his lips and fingers, and his chest was tight enough that breathing was becoming a chore.

"Did you..." the doctor pursed his lips. "Were you accompanied by any adults besides your butler?" Ciel forced himself to tear his eyes away from Sebastian.

"No. Um, no, well-" Ciel closed his eyes for a few seconds, and tried to think straight; he felt tired and worried and his head wasn't cooperating. "I came with my footman as well… Snake." The doctor nodded hurriedly.

"Thank you." He then turned to Sebastian and hastily undid both the butler's waistcoat and shirt. "I wouldn't look if I were you, my Lord," the doctor advised, and Ciel managed to hold his eyes on the sheets for a mere few seconds before curiosity and concern got the best of him; he quickly regretted it. Feeling bile rise up his throat, he averted his eyes once more. He'd seen a glimpse of Sebastian's organs through the wound.

Ciel heard the doctor sigh. "What?" Ciel asked. He'd barely touched Sebastian.

"I'm sorry, I really don't have the facilities for this."

"Then just do what you can," Ciel instructed, his voice still barely audible. "Please." The doctor's lips thinned, and he adjusted a pair of wire-framed glasses. The door opened to one of the sailors, who turned slightly grey when he spotted Sebastian.

"Mr Atkinson, can you find a man who goes by Snake and send him here?" The sailor nodded dumbly and shut the door again.

"You can grab one of the blankets and one of the towels, there's a pile of them beside the bed," the doctor informed him. Ciel noticed, with a hint of dread, there were more remaining blankets and towels than he'd imagined there being. A second or two later, the door was pushed open by Snake, who looked pale but otherwise unharmed. The doctor briefly looked up at him.

"Can you take Earl Phantomhive to a room? Keep him warm, see if you can get him a hot drink, and make sure he doesn't put too much strain on his ankle," the doctor informed, hurrying around the room, before spotting another sailor behind Snake.

"Golding, can you help me get this man onto the bed?"

Wordlessly, Snake shuffled inside the room, glancing between Ciel and Sebastian. Thankfully, he didn't ask what happened, just led Ciel back out. As they made their way down the hall Ciel had to put his weight on Snake otherwise his ankle would threaten to give out. They got a number of odd looks: sailors were a superstitious bunch, and likely had their suspicions regarding Snake. Ciel kept his eyes on the ground.

When they finally arrived at a free room, Ciel let out a breath. He didn't like being out in the open with all the sailors and their odd looks. "Are you hurt?" Ciel asked, settling on the bed and using the towel to dry his hair and remove some the dampness from his clothes.

"'No, we're just cold', says Emily." Ciel wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and nodded.

"'What happened to your ankle?' Says Goethe." Ciel shrugged, looking down at his bandaged ankle, it throbbed, but he was trying to ignore it.

"I just sprained it, don't worry," Ciel replied. Snake dithered, before bowing. This had been a disastrous first expedition for him.

"'We'll go and get you some tea' says Oscar."

Ciel did not get his tea from Snake, rather from Sebastian, who looked little better than he had ten minutes ago, slumped and bleeding in the doctor's office, save for the fact that he was now conscious. Ciel sat up in bed, as Sebastian walked over. His posture was perfect, if a little stiff, and besides his damp clothes, missing jacket and the massive blood stain on his chest he was the image of the perfect butler. He held a mug of tea, some clothes and some more blankets. Ciel wondered if it was some supernatural force keeping his butler's body upright, or just garden variety determination.

"I apologise, I realise a mug is hardly acceptable for someone of your standing, but it was all that was available. I must also apologise for my appearance, it's hardly befitting of a butler." Ciel sat with his mouth partially agape. Not that long ago Sebastian had looked half dead, now he was serving tea. "Equally, my Lord, such an expression is ill-suited to an Earl." Ciel shut his mouth then shook his head. Perhaps he had underestimated Sebastian's healing abilities and he'd recovered already.

As Sebastian walked closer, Ciel changed his mind. He could see from the way the tea rippled that Sebastian's hand was shaking, his eyes were dull, his lips were still blue, and there was a worrying rattling quality to Sebastian's breathing. He was concealing it well, but Sebastian was in no better health than he had been in the doctor's office. Sebastian placed the mug of tea down beside Ciel's bed.

"I managed to find you a change of clothes; they may be a little loose, but they are at least dry. I realise you're probably warm under the blankets, but might I request that you remove yourself in order to change?" Ciel reluctantly swung his legs over the bed, pushing the blankets aside.

"I know you're still injured, Sebastian." Sebastian pulled off Ciel’s sodden jacket, then shirt, and Ciel felt himself shiver. Sebastian's hands were cold as ice and trembling badly, and he had some difficulty doing up the clean shirt.

"Injured or not, I am still your butler, and I can hardly leave you unattended at a time like this." There was something else, Sebastian's voice was faltering, like his teeth were chattering.

"I can hardly be represented by an injured butler," Ciel whispered, before coughing. Sebastian finished putting the new clothes on, and pulled an uncommonly gentle smile.

"And the Phantomhive name can hardly be represented by an ill Earl. May I recommend a swift and smooth recovery." Sebastian put a towel down over the now damp sheets, and slipped a fresh, dry blanket under the two that Ciel already had. He was being especially evasive, which only heightened Ciel's suspicions. Still, what was he to do? He could hardly blame Sebastian for trying to keep up appearances.

"Please try and get some rest. You were impaled only two or so hours ago, and human bodies aren't supposed to move when they have holes in them." Sebastian smirked, but his eyes lacked their usual mischievous twinkle.

"Unusual kindness from you, my Lord." Ciel's initial instinct was to grow irritable and take back the request, until it occurred to him that that was precisely the reaction Sebastian was angling for.

"Just do it. I'm not in the mood to play mind-games with you." Sebastian bowed, and Ciel caught him wincing.

"My aplogies, my Lord." Ciel let out a breath, and allowed Sebastian to pull the covers back over him.

"You're excused." Ciel heard Sebastian stumble on the way out, but he had his back turned so he didn't see.

The second he was out of Ciel's room, Sebastian fumbled for the wall. He was so many things, but most of all he was exhausted, in pain and cold. Every time he took a breath a fresh shock of hurt radiated out from the wound on his chest, and that wasn't even talking about walking. With every step it felt like that wretched scythe was being driven through his chest anew. He felt Snake's hand on his arm. "I'm fine, I'm just tired," Sebastian assured.

"'You're white as a sheet,' says Goethe." Sebastian forced himself onwards; he needed to find something for Ciel to rest his injured ankle on, some ice if it was available, and a different shirt and waistcoat; he could hardly be going about in blood stained uniform.

"I've lost a bit of blood, that is all. You need not concern yourself." Snake remained irritatingly close behind him. Sebastian didn't enjoy others seeing him so weak. Where he was from, if someone else thought you were vulnerable, they'd have driven a blade through your throat before you could say 'hello'.

Just when Sebastian suspected his luck couldn't get much worse, he spotted Lady Midford turning the corner towards them. Sebastian forced himself off the wall, and straightened up, white hot pain shooting through his abdomen. It took every ounce of self-control to keep his face relaxed and his movements fluid. "Mr Michaelis?" Snake all but darted behind him. Act human, Sebastian reminded himself.

"My lady. I apologise greatly for my appearance. Are you looking for my master?" Sebastian asked with a bow; bowing hurt even more than walking and breathing. Francis' eyes narrowed slightly.

"Your appearance is truly unseemly, even by your low standards. I believe they are giving out dry clothes on the lower decks." Sebastian already knew about that, it was where he'd got Ciel's clean clothes, but there was no good in pointing that out.

"Of course, thank you. I will head there once I have tended to my master." Francis raised an eyebrow.

"Is that not the ship doctor's job?" Sebastian felt himself falter; thinking and speaking was beginning to feel like wading through molasses. "You get a change of uniform, and I will talk to the ship doctor. Which room is your master staying in?"

"Fifty-seven," Sebastian replied, relieved that the conversation was seemingly mostly over. Francis nodded, before setting her sights on Snake, who had thus far escaped her wrath. Francis scared Sebastian slightly, and he was a world-weathered, two and a half thousand year old Demon, so he wouldn't have liked to be in Snake's shoes. "I would stop to comment on how cowering behind the butler is hardly proper behaviour, but I am in a hurry." Once Francis was safely out of earshot, Snake let out a breath.

"'She's scary' says Wilde."

"Indeed..." Sebastian was faintly aware of his vision going black. "But she's also the young master's... soon to be mother in law, so it does good to stay in her favour-"

Snake was leant over him, looking panicked, like something had happened. No, something must have happened, because he was sat crumpled on the floor. Ignoring the plethora of warning bells going off in his head, Sebastian went to stand, only for Snake to push him back down again. "'You fainted' says Wordsworth." Sebastian rested his head against the wall for a few seconds, gathering his resolve.

"And that is all." Snake knelt down, his face grim and concerned. Sebastian went to push himself up a second time, and white hot pain threatened to knock him out again. Sebastian took a sharp breath, making the mistake of breathing too deeply, and seconds later he was doubled over coughing. It wasn't just delicate splatters of blood this time. It seemed his lungs were determined to empty themselves of the fluid he'd been allowing to pool in them for the past quarter of an hour, and every hack seemed to bring up a good soup spoon's worth, and drain what little remained of his energy. He was faintly aware of Snake trying to hold him steady, which was some small comfort. Once his lagging brain caught up, he clamped a hand over his mouth and tried earnestly to stop, forcing his breath down into his chest, but it only seemed to make things worse. A minute later, it finally ended, and he dropped back against the wall, taking quick, shallow breaths, a cold sweat plastering his shirt to his back. He could feel something wriggle under the skin of his back, two somethings, and it took him a moment to work out what they were.

"'We can go down and get you clean clothes, you go and find a room and rest,' says Emily." He wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, so it was certainly a tempting offer.

"Your... snakes... friends..." Sebastian paused to catch his breath. "People will object." Snake hesitated, and glanced at the snakes coiled around his shoulders, before his face fell. In the largely empty corridors Snake could go relatively unnoticed, but there were a lot of people needing clean clothes and Sebastian feared Snake would be met with some disgruntlement.

"'We'll lead you to a room with a hot water pipe in it, Snake will have to go alone,' says Goethe." Sebastian sat still for a few seconds, considering the offer. No, if he was right he'd need to be out of sight of humans soon; he had no choice but to accept.

"Are you sure you'll be fine to go alone?" Snake nodded. Sebastian chewed the inside his cheek, before deciding. "Very well." Snake stood and held a hand out to him, and Sebastian reluctantly accepted it; it felt warm against his own. His stomach wrenched then turned as the floor swung underneath him, and it took some time of standing against the wall before he could hope to keep his balance. Snake exchanged a grave look with him, before letting his 'friends' depart and slither instead onto Sebastian. Sebastian scratched the head of a thick Burmese python.

"Please take care of yourself, and my friends," Snake stated, notably without aid of any of his scaled companions.

"Of course," Sebastian replied. To some extent, he meant it.

Chapter Text

Sebastian let the snakes lead him to an appropriate room, grateful for the largely empty corridors because they meant he could stumble and flinch in peace. Not many had got on the lifeboats, and he imagined fewer still had arrived at the rescue ship. Still, with every passing second the nausea grew increasingly unbearable and the wriggling masses under the skin of his back more desperate, so after letting Snake's friends into the room, he dragged himself to the nearest bathroom and shut the door.

Sebastian felt his insides give a final heave, before stomach acid, blood and sea water spilled from his mouth. It hurt. His head throbbed, his throat burned, and the muscles on his front were already starting to cramp from the effort. Finally, coughing and shivering he sat back against the wall. He felt oddly vulnerable. His first thoughts, pathetic as they were, were that he wanted to be back home, with the other servants next to the oven. Instead he was sitting by himself on the floor of a bathroom on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic ocean.

Fresh pain, this time not from his midsection jerked him from his thoughts. Sebastian bit his lip and fumbled with his waistcoat buttons, but he hardly got two undone before two wings tore through the skin of his back, sending his shirt and waistcoat far beyond the point of repair. Sebastian let out a strangled whine of pain, before dropping back against the wall, panting. The wings were bulging with eyes and covered in a viscous gunk, making the feathers glisten and clump; it was utterly at odds with Sebastian Michaelis, the dashing and unfailing butler. To distract himself from his thundering heart, Sebastian reached out to one of the wings, and ran his fingers through the feathers until he felt a slightly loose one. Gripping it in trembling fingers, he plucked it out, before feeling for another.

Sebastian looked up when he heard a knock at the door. "'Black?' Says Bronte." Came Snake's quiet voice. Sebastian froze, looking down at the pile of feathers surrounding him, then at the giant wings ripping from his back. Gritting his teeth, Sebastian retracted them, before pushing himself to his feet, having to reach for the wall to keep his balance. His stomach gave another heave, but he swallowed the bile that rose up his throat. With some difficulty, he unlocked the door and cracked it open, holding his hand out for the clothes; he didn't terribly fancy Snake seeing him as he was. Snake, thankfully took the hint. "Thank you, I'm indebted," Sebastian said before cringing at his voice.

"'You sound even worse than earlier,' says Emily." Sebastian slipped off his waistcoat; the buttons had been broken, so that was one less thing to worry about.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with." A few of his shirt buttons had survived, and he found himself unable to undo them, his hands were shaking too much.

"'You were bleeding earlier,' says Oscar." Sebastian nursed his temples.

"I know, but it's fixed now. The doctor sewed it up." Sebastian knew damn well the stitches were going to stop the bleeding for an hour in ideal circumstances.

"'Black-'"

"I'm fine. You go and get some sleep, you'll need it after the past few hours." There was a couple of seconds of silence from the other side of the door, then the sound of someone retreating. Sebastian let out a breath, the blood in his lungs rattling. Coughing into his fist, Sebastian figured the shirt was unsalvageable anyway, and just ripped the remaining buttons. It was so cold...

His body wasn't fit to move, but he forced it to anyway. Down the corridor, towards Ciel's room. Then his legs buckled. Halfway to Ciel's room his knees merely gave out under him, and his fingers found no purchase on the smooth wall so he dropped to the floor like a stone. Sebastian closed his eyes for a few seconds. The instant his eyes were shut, sleep started to weigh down his mind, and it was a battle to open them again. Stay awake, he told his body. His body refused. He could feel his eyes slipping shut, so he did the first thing he could think of: he dug his thumb into the wound through his chest, hard.

White hot pain jolted his brain awake, and left him wheezing and spluttering into his fist, but the fresh alertness persuaded his legs to take weight again, however much they shook with the effort. Still, even in the dry clothes he could feel the cold draining what remnants of energy he had left, the shivering having finally stopped, and soon the weariness started to bear down on him again. Still, it bought him ten minutes.

Sebastian knocked Ciel's door, hearing a hoarse 'come in'. When he entered, Ciel had his injured ankle propped up on a pillow with a cloth presumably dampened with cool water draped over it, though there was the beginnings of a worrying shade of pink on his cheeks. "Aunt Francis had a go at the doctor. I've never heard her genuinely angry before, I'm just glad it wasn't me," Ciel explained. "Needless to say he's trying a bit harder now." Sebastian smiled, and took Ciel's empty mug. A frown flickered across Ciel's face, and he reached out and grabbed Sebastian's arm; his hand felt scorchingly hot against Sebastian's skin.
"Bloody hell, Sebastian, you're freezing." Sebastian pulled a second smile, this one more forced.

"It can do a Demon such as myself little harm."

"Little harm?" Ciel asked. "So it can harm you?"

"Nothing significant," Sebastian replied, but he could feel the blood starting to catch in his throat again. "It's just tiring." Ciel opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again when Sebastian doubled over coughing.

"You are something else..."

"My apologies... my Lord," Sebastian choked out. Ciel pulled the covers off himself and knelt beside him, and Sebastian felt Ciel's hand on his back, not as a comforting gesture mind you.

"What is on your back?" Ciel asked. Sebastian recovered enough from coughing to at least speak.

"Wings, my Lord. I'm struggling to hold a human form, though they're still under my skin."

"Brilliant," Ciel muttered sarcastically. "Leave the mug and go back to your room, at least until you can stay human. I am not being known as having a hell-beast for a butler." Sebastian swallowed the blood still in his mouth.

"Of course my Lord." He quite literally did not have the energy to refuse. He forced himself up so he was standing, and set the mug back down on Ciel's nightstand, though for a second his vision went black and he felt distinctly like he was going to faint again, but he stayed upright. "Is there anything you need?" Ciel lay back down in bed, draping the flannel back over his ankle.

"Peace and quiet." Sebastian almost smiled, and took the hint.

The walk back to find himself a room was a herculean task. Still, when he felt his knees threatening give out or his eyes slip closed he'd press down on his wound and the pain would wake him up. When he finally found a room, he staggered in, locked the door behind him, and let out a sigh of relief when his human form was allowed to melt away. He collapsed onto the bed and pulled the threadbare blankets tight around his body, bringing his knees up to his chest and trying to will himself into warming up. It didn’t work. He was frozen stiff as sleep finally took him.

He woke up to his stomach turning, and that horrendous feeling of bile creeping up his throat. He didn't have time to register the half formed abominations of his millennia old brain, he just clamped his hand over his mouth, and - stumbling like a drunkard - hurried to the bathroom, all whilst forcing his lungs, however irritated by the movement of blood, to remain still until finally he tossed the door shut behind him, then retched and spluttered into the toilet.

Every time he thought it was over, his stomach heaved again, and yet more came up his throat and out his mouth, until finally he was just gagging and wheezing as bloodied saliva dribbled from his lips. He only realised he was still in his true form when he found his wings wrapped around his trembling body. Sebastian groaned, and lay panting and wheezing against the wall. He couldn't keep his eyes open... too tired...

... There was the first sounds of movement outside, and he was still cold, always cold...

... Regular sounds of footsteps voices only somewhat muffled by the bathroom door and his own rattling breathing...

... Knocking on the bathroom door.

Sebastian blinked and flinched, and he couldn't at first tell if the floor was really moving or if it was just his head. Everything hurt. The wound throbbed, there were cramps across his front, his throat ached, and pain kept jabbing at his left temple and eye. "Just a second," he called hoarsely, his eyes refusing to focus. He felt like he was made of stone, heavy and stiff, as he stood. There was bile in his hair because he hadn't held it out his face so he had to wash that and his face in the sink as he coughed. He realised just in time that he needed to turn back into a human.

A man brushed past him as he stumbled out. He'd go to his room and fix what he could of his appearance, then check on Ciel, goodness knows what could have happened during the indeterminate number of hours he'd been asleep.

The face that stared back at him from the mirror was one he scarcely recognised. Cracked, blue lips, hollow cheeks, pale, greyish skin and dark patches under his slightly watery eyes. Even his hair appeared to have lost some of its lustre. It was no state for him to be in, but he was unable to do anything about it. He had no energy and so effectively no powers. He wanted go curl up under the blankets where it was warm and no one could see him and remain there for at least the next week, but loathed as he was to be seen by others (lo and behold his young master) he had to. He had to take care of Ciel.

So he did. He dragged himself down the corridor, cringing whenever someone even looked at him, and knocked on Ciel's door; no response. He knocked a second time: nothing. Growing concerned, Sebastian cracked open the door. The room smelt of sweat. The sort of vague panic you got when chronically exhausted hit Sebastian and surrounded him like a fog. Ciel's fever had got worse. Of course it had. He had known that would happen and yet he hadn't checked earlier. Ship doctor.

He trekked to the doctor's office, woke the sleeping doctor (he was much too tired himself to feel particularly remorseful) and informed him that Ciel's condition had worsened. Probably fearing Lady Midford's wrath, he set immediately to work.

A hundred and three degrees. Sebastian stood by Ciel's bed, watching the woodgrain move on the floor as that number floated around his head. A hundred and three degree fever and something else Sebastian didn't know the meaning of, but it was in relation to Ciel's asthma. For the next two hours he wordlessly fetched things for the doctor and Ciel, and otherwise concentrated on staying conscious, occasionally (provided the doctor wasn't looking) pressing down on his wound to jolt himself awake.

Chapter Text

Time was murky, malleable over those next few weeks, and never at his convenience, always either dragging or rushing, sometimes entire hours could pass in the blink of an eye, and other times a single minute could take days to end. He did his best to take care of Ciel: keep his fever down; make sure his ankle was healing; bring him this that and the other for his throat. Sebastian would throw up in the bathroom when he needed to, dropping his human form for few minutes whilst he was there, and that horrid, wet cough from deep in his chest never left, but the cold did, and instead he felt hot, too hot, though he was already in what he considered the bare minimum so he couldn't take anything off. Mostly though, he worried for Ciel. For as much as he knew that he would be fine, he had no such guarantee for Ciel.

"My Lord, I must insist that you eat something," Sebastian stated, trying to keep the pleading tone from his voice. It was roughly dinner time, and as per the usual Ciel had drunk some water with minimal protest, but it was the food he didn't want. It had been like this for all other meals for the past... four days? Or was it five? They all blended together in Sebastian's mind.

"I'm not hungry," Ciel grumbled, his voice quiet and thin. It surprised Sebastian just how viscerally it distressed him to see Ciel so weak, he found he almost couldn’t bear it. Still, distress was about the only thing keeping him going; coaxing Ciel into eating every single meal time was exhausting.

"Just one bowl of soup and you can go back to sleep. Please." Ciel groaned and shook his head, trying to slip back underneath the covers. It was so tempting to just sleep. "Young master, you need your strength. You can't..." Sebastian trailed off because he didn't know how to end the sentence; he felt utterly defeated. "Humans need to eat food otherwise they weaken." Ciel still wouldn't take the bowl of soup off him. "At least half the bowl." Ciel shook his head. "Ci- Young master, please. It's just soup. It's not that much." Ciel didn't even respond. "Why not?"

"I told you, I'm not hungry." Sebastian put the soup down on the nightstand and let his head drop back against the wall. The exhaustion coupled with anxiety was wearing him down.

"I'm too tired for his game, will you please eat something?" Sebastian pleaded, before turning away and coughing into his elbow.

"Not hungry." Sebastian shut his eyes and willed himself to wake up in the manor and find that the whole thing had been a dream. There was a knock at the door, and Sebastian opened his eyes and sat up.

"Come in." Snake stuck his head through the door, looking worried, as he mostly had since they got onto the rescue ship.

"'Is something wrong?' Asks Emily." Sebastian rubbed his face with his hands, trying to summon any form of alertness from his weary body. Ciel was already worming his way back under the covers. Sebastian got up from the chair he'd spent the past goodness knows how long on and made his way back out of Ciel's room to where Snake was; he wasn't getting anywhere with Ciel and, much as he hated the fact, he needed a break.

"He won't eat." Sebastian shut the door, and felt his throat tighten. "I've been trying for the past... ten minutes? He won't eat anything," Sebastian explained, finding himself having to steady his voice to keep it from shaking. He wished Tanaka would just materialise before him; Tanaka would be able to go in, say a few words to Ciel, and emerge with a perfectly empty bowl. Snake looked at the floor, then back at him.

"You're doing your best," Snake said, his voice dipping bellow even its usual volume.

"Good intentions aren't going to keep him alive," Sebastian replied without thinking, his tone far darker than he intended. Snake flinched, and Sebastian tried to collect himself. "My apologies. That was uncalled for. I'm just... tired. It will be fine." Snake inclined his head towards one of his snakes, hesitated, then spoke.

"'Be gentle with him.' Says Emily." Sebastian swallowed and nodded, trying to will himself to hold it together.

"Thank you. I shall try to bear that in mind." Sebastian pushed the door back open, and made his way over to the chair besides Ciel's bed. He tapped Ciel's shoulder to rouse him, and tried to bear in mind Emily's advice. It wasn't Ciel's fault, he was ill, he needed to have patience.

"Young master, I know that you don't want to eat, and I know that you're tired, but the only way you will feel better is if you eat." Ciel looked over at him. "We're nearly home, and then you can have mine or Tanaka's or Agni's cooking, but until then you need to bear with the ship food and stay strong." Sebastian offered Ciel the bowl of soup for what felt like the hundredth time.

"And if I eat this I can go back to sleep?"

"I won't bother you until morning, I promise." Sebastian nearly wept when Ciel disdainfully took the bowl of soup off him and spooned some of it into his mouth. He didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see Ciel eat soup in his life.

Sebastian sat on a chair beside Ciel’s bed. There had been a time when he’d stood, as it was hardly appropriate for a butler to sit at his master’s bedside, that should be what family did, but he could barely stand for more than five minutes before his legs would start to shake with the effort, so instead he sat.

Ciel was fairing poorly. His chest heaved, each thin breath so great an effort and yet doing so little, for the next was always just as desperate, and the sound… The whistling rattle of Ciel’s breathing was constant, for hours on end it was all he’d hear, and yet with each laboured gasp his heart twisted; he hated the noise of it, he would have given anything for it to finally ease, and yet he couldn’t leave: he had to know Ciel was still breathing. Worst of all was when Ciel’s breathing hitched: every time that happened it nearly broke him. A second’s pause was enough to send him spiralling into panic.

Sebastian placed a fresh cloth on Ciel’s forehead, though he had little way of telling whether the new cloth was cool or if the old one was dry, the feeling was more or less completely gone in his fingers. Ciel’s eye cracked briefly open to focus on nothing before slipping closed again. Sebastian watched his chest rise and fall, feeling his own eyelids droop dangerously.

Sebastian sat up when he heard the door open, and turned his head slowly to look, feeling his neck creak, expecting the doctor or perhaps food for Ciel, but instead it was Francis Midford. Sebastian stood carefully up (fainting in front of the Marchioness was something he aimed to avoid), pain ripping from his midsection at the small movement, and bowed as low as he was capable of. “Good afternoon, my Lady,” he greeted, his lips numb. He hoped the wet gurgle of blood in his lungs wasn’t too obvious. He also wasn’t sure if it was the afternoon, the past was muddy which made it difficult to keep a handle on the time.

“Good morning, Mr Michaelis.” The Marchioness’ lips pulled. “When I heard you’d terrified half the crew with your deathly appearance, I assumed they were being dramatic. It would appear that was not the case.” Sebastian smiled stiffly. He’d seen himself in the mirror, and he did indeed look like a walking corpse. He hated it, but there wasn’t much he could do.

“My apologies, my Lady, but there is little I can do to rectify the issue.”

“You could rest.” Sebastian blinked, and for a second he sensation similar to falling, as his body threatened to shut down and plunge him into sleep, but he managed to force himself into consciousness.

“I’m afraid that is not possible, my Lady.” The thought of leaving Ciel in another’s hands made him feel faintly sick, so he tried not to think about it. His mind took another dip towards unconsciousness, and he found his legs struggling to support his weight.

“Surely your footman could keep an eye on Ciel for a few hours.” Sebastian struggled for the words to explain that it wasn’t so much someone else watching Ciel that was the problem as it was not being able to watch Ciel himself.

“I could not leave his side,” Sebastian stated, hoping it conveyed what he meant. The Marchioness eyed him, before clicking her tongue.

“I see.” He had to sit down, his legs were genuinely going to give out otherwise, and Francis made no remark on it, instead tilting her head and looking down at Ciel, and Sebastian did the same. “Is he eating?”

“Reluctantly, but yes,” Sebastian replied. He was barely holding his eyes open.

“Is he ever awake?” He couldn’t jab at his wounds with Francis stood so near, so he was powerless to stop his own slipping consciousness.

“Occasionally, but not…” his eyes shut against his own wishes, and he felt his head loll to the side. What felt to him like a second later he jerked himself awake, and still blinking tried to remember where he’d left off. Something about Ciel… Francis looked not quite startled, but at least surprised.

“I think it would be best if you attempted to sleep, Mr Michaelis.” It was an incredible mental effort to put one word in front of the other.

“I can imagine it would be, but I would not…” sleep pulled his eyes closed again and he felt himself dropping into sleep, before again forcing himself awake, “… I could not stomach leaving the young master’s side.” Francis’ lips formed a thin line, but she did not try to persuade him otherwise.

“I believe I understand.” Sebastian was glad she did, because he certainly didn’t.

Chapter Text

The ship docked at night. Sebastian sat in Ciel's room alongside Snake, waiting for the sound of footsteps outside to die down. Ciel was half asleep, an unhealthy flush across his cheeks, and the only thing keeping Sebastian going was the promise of going home and this all being over.

When things grew quieter outside, Sebastian picked Ciel up from the bed, swaddled in as many blankets as he had been able to find to keep off the chill. Ciel had started to improve over the past week or two, but Sebastian could still hear his thin, rasping breaths, and whilst each one assured him Ciel was still alive, they also delivered a fresh stab of anxiety. His poor, fragile Ciel. Snake stayed beside him because he couldn't walk straight when they made their way out onto the deck as there were no walls to lean on, and all the way down the ramps down from the ship. The three of them must have been a sight for sore eyes. It would all be over soon, Sebastian kept telling himself.

Breathing the cold, outside air felt like inhaling needles, but at least the pain had largely ceased to register on account of exhaustion; he had got no earnest sleep since they first arrived, just moments when his eyes had fallen shut only for him to jerk awake a minute later. Still, he clutched Ciel to his chest. It was nearly over.

Mey-Rin, having clearly been able to spot him Ciel, and Snake before the others, was first to meet them, followed by Baldroy, Finny, and Tanaka. When Tanaka went to relieve him of Ciel, he didn't immediately let go, there were a few seconds of reluctance; he had spent every little drop of energy over the past few weeks protecting Ciel and he couldn't lose Ciel after all that. Still, he came to his senses eventually, and Ciel was placed in safer hands. Ciel was safe. It was over. For one dizzying second his vision failed and he could only hear.

Ciel watched from Tanaka's arms as Sebastian's eyes rolled back into their sockets and he dropped like a rag doll to the ground. Snake darted to catch him with Baldroy and Finny following, and they thankfully managed to stop his fall before he hit the cobbles. Ciel heard Baldroy swear, attempting to rouse Sebastian, and when that failed, he turned to Tanaka. ”D’you think he’ll be alright going all the way back to the manor?” Baldroy asked.

”It might be better to stay at the townhouse instead. Given the circumstances, I imagine an unannounced arrival could be excused,” Tanaka replied. Baldroy nodded, before he and Finny started to pick Sebastian up so they could carry him to the carriage. It was almost alien to see Sebastian looking so prone.

Ciel felt Tanaka begin walking towards the carriage, and it wasn’t long before he was being deposited in one of the leather seats. Snake got in after him, holding one of Sebastian’s overcoats, which he and Baldroy slipped onto his unconscious butler. Sebastian’s head rested bonelessly against the carriage wall, and Ciel felt he ought to do or say something, but he didn’t know what. Mostly, he just wanted the childish illusion of safety that came with familiar surroundings. They would be home soon, and the servants would take care of Sebastian, at least of that much he was certain.

Carriage. He was in the carriage, Sebastian thought, and as always his stomach was turning. Again, he pressed his palm to his mouth, and reached for the the door, but the carriage was moving. Someone knocked on the roof of the carriage and it stopped, allowing Sebastian to stagger out and drop to his knees, only this time someone followed and held his hair out his face and stopped him from pitching forward. Blood, bile and phlegm splattered on the pavement in front of him. Someone sat rubbing his back as he coughed up the final few lungfuls of blood, and he hated himself for finding it comforting. Finally, it ended, and for a minute he merely knelt panting by the side of the road, someone’s hands resting on his shoulders.

"I feel we had better get you home," came a voice that Sebastian had much respect for but really hadn't been wanting to hear. 'Someone' had turned out to be Tanaka. If the Gods could have just struck him down on the spot, he would have been immensely grateful, but Gods never were a cooperative bunch and instead he had to make his way back into the carriage leaning heavily on Tanaka's shoulder because his legs were actually incapable of taking his weight. Still, much as shame threatened to kill him from the inside out, he slipped into oblivion almost the instant that he sat down.

"Mr Sebastian?" Asked Agni's voice, warm and soft. Sebastian groggily focused his eyes on Agni's face, trying to jolt his brain into alertness, but he didn't have the energy.

"I'm awake," Sebastian mumbled, though it sounded as if someone had stolen his voice. Agni's brows furrowed slightly, and helped Sebastian to his feet, though that phrase really implied far more input from Sebastian's end than was actually present. Sebastian turned his head to cough thinly into his fist, making a valiant but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to be discrete about it.

"Goodness, you're freezing," Agni muttered. Sebastian couldn't really fathom why Agni would say that, he was cooking alive, especially since someone had put an overcoat on him.

"I'm definitely not." Agni cast him a slightly concerned look, but he was too busy trying to stay awake. The steps down from the carriage, then the stairs up to what proved to be the townhouse were difficult; his legs didn't want to support him so he had to lean heavily on Agni, and the steps never seemed to be where he was expecting. He could feel his eyes falling closed.

Then they were inside the townhouse and it was stiflingly hot, so much it almost hurt, and he just wanted to go back outside. Agni led him to the servant quarter bathrooms, and started to unbutton the coat, and Sebastian tried without thinking to help, but he couldn't feel his fingers, and they were too slow and clumsy. A second later Baldroy appeared with armfuls of medical supplies. For who? Sebastian wondered. "Jesus, what happened?" Baldroy asked.

"It's a long story," Sebastian whispered, because no louder sound would come out of his mouth. It was like someone had stolen his voice. His eyes slipped closed...

... Burning hot hand on his face, holding it up and forwards. "Sebastian, you need to stay awake," Agni encouraged. He just wanted to sleep.

"Have these bandages been changed?" Baldroy asked. Sebastian shook his head. Baldroy muttered under his breath, starting to unravel them.

"Do you know what's wrong with Ciel?" Baldroy asked. Sebastian cast his mind back, trying to grab at what the doctor had said, what was its name..?

"A hundred and three degree fever, and... I don't remember." Oh, Lucifer bellow, he didn't remember. It had been important. Why hadn't he been listening?

"Sebastian, it's fine. We can just ask Snake," Agni assured. Sebastian felt like he was causing entirely too much fuss. Baldroy removed the last of the bandages, and swore. Sebastian cast his eyes down towards the wound, seeing the stitches snapped. He didn't remember when specifically they'd snapped, but he had a feeling it had been a while ago. "Stay there," Baldroy instructed, and Sebastian nodded, before his eyes fell closed again....

... Stomach lurching and blood in his throat. Sebastian made a dive for the toilet, interrupting Baldroy's bandaging. Cursing, Baldroy pulled the lid of the toilet up and Sebastian leant over it as someone kept the hair out his face and held him upright. There wasn't the strength to push up blood, so the muscles in his stomach worked to little avail, his lungs spasming to knock a few more mouthfuls of mucus out. Eventually, he went limp, and he was faintly aware of the soft fabric of Agni's jacket against his face and the feeling of Agni’s hand rubbing his arm as Baldroy finished off the bandaging and he lay wheezing.

Agni took him up to a room that he supposed would be his for the next few days. The fire was burning, heating the room up far beyond what he wanted. He wanted to put the fire out or open a window, or better yet go back outside and sleep on the cool ground. "Where's the young master?" Agni's face softened.

"In his room. A doctor has been called and Mr Tanaka is taking care of him." Well, that was a relief, Sebastian thought. Agni urged him onto the bed, and he sat down off that basis, next to Agni, who for some reason was looking at him not like he was a repulsive mess who had been throwing up not even ten minutes ago, but like he'd done something impressive.

"You are a rather remarkable khansama, staying with Ciel all that way and with such terrible wounds." Sebastian's face got somehow hotter, especially when he felt Agni brushing the hair out his eyes. "Still, you really ought to rest now." He sort of forgot how to speak and just did as Agni suggested. Unbearable as the heat was, the weight of the quilts was comforting, and the bed was far more comfortable than anywhere else he'd been sleeping, or rather trying not to sleep, so he for once had little difficulty with letting his eyes fall shut. He was faintly aware of Agni settling next to him on a chair, and at some point someone slipping a hot water bottle wrapped in a towel under the sheets, but he didn't really know who...

Chapter Text

When Sebastian woke he was freezing. The pain from his wound, his stomach, his throat, his temple, it was all sharp and clear and he could feel himself shivering. On one hand this was the most awake he'd felt in ages, on the other, everything was now so much worse. A bucket had been left by his bed, thank Lucifer: he doubted he could have made it to the bathroom, and for every bit as undignified as being sick into a bucket was, it was better than collapsing half way and doing the same on the floor. He remembered to hold his hair out his face at least.

There hadn't been much blood coming up earlier, but evidently he'd got some strength back in the intervening period because fresh, thick mouthfuls of it were forced up his throat and windpipe, his lungs completely clogged. He must have woken the person in the chair next to him up because he felt a hand on his back and heard Baldroy's still half asleep voice. "Good morning." Sebastian coughed weakly into the bucket a few more times.

"Good morning," Sebastian whispered back, even though his morning had so far been anything but.

"You probably don't feel it but you're looking a lot better," Baldroy stated. Sebastian wiped his watering eyes and shuddered.

"No, I really don't."

"You're awake though, which is better said than a few hours ago. Right, I'll deal with the bucket, you just try and stay warm and get some rest," Baldroy instructed. Sebastian shook his head.

"I'm well enough, I can take it." Baldroy put a hand on his shoulder. It looked like he might say something touching.

"Sebastian, shut up and give me the bucket." It was rude even by Baldroy's lax standards, but Sebastian gave in anyway so he supposed it worked. Still trembling, he pulled the blankets over his shoulder and hugged the now cooling hot water bottle close. It was going to be a very long day.

For a while it was Baldroy who stayed with him. For half an hour he kept up the air of stiffness, as Baldroy read some book and occasionally talked to him. Things were certainly slightly tense. Sebastian was technically Baldroy's superior, and he never allowed himself to be seen in such a state by the other servants, and frankly Baldroy probably didn't know how to act. Still, after a while Sebastian got bored and started wondering how Ciel was, and for goodness' sake he had been lying down for ages.

"I would be better off doing something," Sebastian announced, moving to sit up.

"Like what? Can you even stand?" Baldroy immediately seemed to realise his poor choice of words, but the damage was done and Sebastian pushed himself upright rather too fast in his haste to prove the fact that he most certainly could stand, thank you very much. Sebastian gasped at the pain from his wound, doubling over, which pushed a fresh spurt of blood into his lungs and stomach. Not missing a beat, Baldroy wordlessly handed him the bucket. The usual routine began, blood and other such things splattered into the bucket as his throat and stomach burned and ached and his entire body lurched with each retch. He was always left coughing for while, but usually no more than a minute. It had been a minute, and he was still coughing, and he realised with mounting fear he actually couldn't stop, nor could he breathe. In desperation, he pressed his lips together and pushed the air back down into his chest, but his lungs pushed back, and he was knocked forward with the force of it. He felt a few of his stitches snap as a torrent of blood burst from his mouth. Baldroy took ahold of his shoulders to keep him upright, as he, still spluttering, leant limply over the bucket.

It took five minutes for it to properly be over, by which time his throat was so raw just breathing was painful, his entire front was soaked with blood, and he was trembling all over. He felt Baldroy work the bucket loose from his hands - he'd been gripping it just for the sake of holding onto something - and place it down on the floor. "Can you breathe?" Baldroy asked, one of his hands still on Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian swallowed and nodded. "Right, sit down on my chair so you don't get blood on the sheets; I'll need to put in new stitches." Sebastian nodded again. Baldroy helped him onto the chair, put a blanket around his shoulders, then disappeared to go and get medical supplies. It was ridiculous, but Sebastian found himself anxious for Baldroy's return. After so long on that wretched rescue ship either alone or effectively alone, he couldn't tolerate the solitude.

Baldroy came back in and carefully undid the buttons on Sebastian's borrowed nightshirt, Baldroy's nightshirt. "My apologies, about getting blood on it," Sebastian whispered; he had utterly lost his voice. Baldroy looked up.

"Hmm?"

"My apologies for getting blood on your shirt."

"It's fine, bit of salt and lemon juice and it'll come out," Baldroy replied with a shrug. Thankfully, Sebastian was still wearing trousers underneath; there had been a wordless agreement that those would stay on; Sebastian hated even being seen shirtless, so the trousers were definitely not to be removed.

He was freezing without the nightshirt and the covers, and redoing his stitches and bandages took a while, so by the time he had another shirt on (one of his this time, an older one where the linen was getting thin in places) he was gritting his teeth to stop them chattering. Baldroy helped him back into bed, and Sebastian pulled the blankets over his shoulder, then lay still and tense. He felt Baldroy sit down on the edge of the bed, pause, then begin to rub circles on his back. Sebastian hated himself for it, but it was comforting, after that feeling of not being able to breath and the hurt from the wound on his chest. Goodness knows how many straight weeks of keeping himself awake by driving his thumb into the gaping hole through his torso, throwing up blood alone in the freezing ship bathroom, being too cold to undo the buttons on his waistcoat, and constantly in pain and worried about Ciel and having to keep up his veneer of professional indifference, had left him vulnerable. He was mentally spent. So yes, he lay still and shuddering with his eyes half-lidded as Baldroy rubbed his back. He was so fucking tired that he had no choice but to allow himself one day, just one singular day in his over two thousand year life where he didn't fight or grit his teeth or otherwise act like a cornered animal when presented with help. In other words, he gave in, just for that day.

He must have fallen asleep because when he woke up Baldroy was gone and Agni was in his place. Sebastian closed his eyes again, trying to will himself back to sleep, but however tired he was he just couldn't. The hot water bottle had gone cold, his wound was bothering him and he was concerned about Ciel and what havoc the servants could have wreaked when he wasn't looking. "Oh, you're awake," Agni remarked.

"Regrettably. How is my young master?" His voice was still incapable of rising above a whisper, and it felt like sandpaper was being dragged up his throat, but Agni smiled fondly at him.

"Asleep as far as I'm aware. He's running a bit of a fever, but the doctor was round earlier and he said Earl Phantomhive would be fine but that he just needs rest." Thank Lucifer, Sebastian thought. He dreaded the day he was told of long-lasting complications or shortened life expectancy, something permanent. Stupid really, when he was the one destined to kill Ciel, but that was something he preferred not to think about. Sebastian coughed before continuing.

"Has anything been broken?" Agni laughed.

"By your colleagues? No, and nothing will be." Sebastian chose to believe him, for the sake of his own sanity. Still, even with his worries as assuaged as they could be reasonably expected to get, he was still cold. The fire was burning and he could feel the weight of two quilts and several blankets over his body, so by all accounts he should have been warm, but the chill seemed to breathe off his own bones; and that wasn't to mention the pain from his wound: he didn't dare move in order to work warmth back into his frigid limbs for fear of the debilitating hurt. He wouldn't have taken painkillers anyway - though the ship doctor had offered him some - he didn't trust them.

Nonetheless, he was acutely aware that his battered body demanded sleep: he was too tired to do anything else, his limbs too weak and his mind too slow to allow him anything more taxing than staring at the ceiling. Still, the icy prickle kept him from actually sleeping. After what could have been any length of time, he felt a warm hand on his forehead, Agni checking for the beginnings of a fever. "You're still freezing," Agni murmured. "Do you want me to refill the... what is it you Englishmen call those rubber things?" Sebastian took a second to realise what Agni meant. He was away to shake his head, when the blood in his lungs gave a fresh rattle and he doubled over spluttering into his fist as Agni sat down on the bed and rubbed his back. After a while it died away again and he was left nursing his chest. He opened his mouth to reply to Agni's question but nothing, not even a whisper came out, so instead he reluctantly nodded. Agni wordlessly slipped the hot water bottle from underneath the covers, and disappeared, returning several minutes later. In spite of himself, Sebastian clutched it to his chest and it at least seemed to ease the painful rattling and his own clutching chills.

He slept soundly enough after that, until he woke up with his stomach heaving. The usual occurred, then he said he could deal with the bucket, Agni denied with uncharacteristic firmness, returned, and took to running his fingers through Sebastian's hair, something which embarrassingly put him deeply to sleep in mere minutes. He doubted any pleasures that had been barred from him behind the pearly gates of Heaven could have compared to that feeling of Agni's fingers in his hair, and it was not something he ever really forgot: Demons have very good memories. So perhaps he had grown attached to Agni as well, but other than that he truly did not care about any other humans.

He slept soundly for what felt like quite some time, and when he woke up Baldroy was sat next to him again. He threw up, just about coughed his lungs out, the standard, though by that point the muscles in his stomach hurt almost as much as the gaping hole through his chest, and he still hadn't regained his voice, so he struggled to get back to sleep.

"Do you know how to play Black Jack? Like, Twenty-One." Sebastian looked up. Baldroy was holding a pack of cards. He nodded: he had some vague knowledge of it. There was a bit more to it, but essentially you needed your cards to add up to as close to twenty-one as possible, without going over. They played three rounds, the first of which Sebastian won because Baldroy was definitely going easy on him, the second of which Baldroy won by getting twenty when Sebastian had been reluctant to try going above eighteen, and third round he won because Baldroy went over.

Baldroy found dice after that and they played Dead Man's Dice, with Sebastian having to use his fingers if he wanted to say numbers because Baldroy's hearing was too poor to hear his whispering and his throat was sore anyway. They went back and forth, never usually playing more than few rounds of a given game, with Sebastian even digging up rather old games, usually those from sailors or pirates, who always seemed to have the best ones (nothing else to do on a ship he supposed). To Baldroy's credit, he wasn't bad, for a human; Sebastian considered himself quite skilled at such games, but Baldroy won often enough by simply taking more risks, though in Sebastian's defence he was hardly in the best health. Still, it passed the time quickly, and Agni came back in just as they were finishing up a game of Patience (which Sebastian thankfully won). Past that he had some vague memory of Agni talking to him, but mostly he seemed to fall asleep again.

And so the day proceeded. He was in and out of consciousness, occasionally waking, often to throw up, only to nod off an hour or so later. Thankfully, his sleep was only interrupted by half formed dreams, none meaningful enough to be distressing, for the most part at least. There was one time. He dreamt of Hellhounds, or rather his dream ended on Hellhounds, the rest of it faded near instantly, but the image of a Hellhound leaping at him, its teeth bared, wet and frothing with spittle carried over into waking, and he recoiled with some speed, certainly gave Agni a fright, and sent him into a coughing fit. Agni sat down on the bed and held him close, rubbing his back until he calmed down; he didn't cry, he managed not to, and even if he had intended to scream he'd been far too hoarse to do so by that point, so instead he just sat panting, trying not to breathe too hard for the blood in his lungs, and clutching the fabric of Agni's coat. He hoped Agni didn't think less of him for it. He went back to sleep quickly enough though, still in Agni’s arms with his head rested on Agni’s shoulder, and Agni had only briefly asked if he wanted to talk about it: he didn't.

So yes, for twenty four hours (or thereabouts) he just let things happen. He let Baldroy and Agni help. He felt so nauseous and pained and exhausted there didn't seem much choice. And it was fine. By the end of the day he even had some infinitesimal amount of energy, he wasn't running on totally empty, which was just as well.

Chapter Text

Five thirty, sharp, Sebastian was up. Uniform pristine; hair perfect; posture correct. Was he up at five thirty because he'd been throwing up at five twenty? Perhaps. Was there still a thick rattle in his chest? Maybe. And there was a chance that he still felt dizzy and cold, that he could still barely speak, and that his wound was still excruciatingly painful, but Ciel had said a day off, and that day had come and gone. He had weathered worse.

It felt good as well, to be back in his tailcoat, to be put together, to be himself, or at least the self he wanted to be. He left the floor spotless with a mirror shine, the doorknobs gleaming, and had just started on the windows when Agni came in. "Sebastian..."

"I'm fine," Sebastian assured, though his own hoarse voice did little to prove it. Agni came up to his step ladder and stopped at the bottom, beckoning him down. Sebastian obliged, privately cursing himself. Agni put a hand on his forearm, looking at him with those soft, grey eyes, and Sebastian knew already that whatever Agni said, he would do.

"You can't work today. Just because you can stand does not mean you are healthy." Sebastian, even if he knew he had already lost felt obliged to at least explain himself.

"The young master said I could have the day off, he said nothing about multiple days." Agni sighed, but there was a slight smile on his face.

"When was that? Presumably some time ago, before his and your condition worsened. You cannot expect someone, not least of all someone so young to be able to predict how long it would take you to recover. We must not just blindly follow instructions, we must show initiative where necessary. And regardless, do you truly consider yourself in fit state to serve an Earl?" There it was. Sebastian knew he would be persuaded and he was correct. Agni seemed to see this, and patted his arm. "If we need you for any reason, or if there's any change in Ciel's condition I promise I'll tell you."

"Thank you." Sebastian went to leave, only for Agni to catch his arm, a knowing twinkle in his eye.

"And Mr Sebastian, the firewood in your room is there to be used."

Sebastian walked back into his room, went to leave the fire unlit feeling that he'd used entirely too much wood the previous day, then remembered what Agni had just told him, and decided that he'd let Agni get to know him a little too well. Reluctantly, he chucked wood on the fire and lit it with his gaze, not bothering to find matches.

He took off his tail coat shoes, then sat on his bed, aimless. At first the warmth of the room started to make him drowsy, and he probably dozed off for a few minutes, but when he heard a crash from the kitchen he didn't feel he could go back to sleep. He quickly pulled on his shoes, about blacked out standing up, then walked briskly down the hall, keeping one hand on the wall to steady himself against the dizziness, and peered in through the kitchen door.

Mey-Rin was sat stunned in a pile of pans that had fallen in a small avalanche from the cupboard, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Still, Finny (who was only a quarter conscious) perked up, his eyes widening, before he cleared the distance between them with startling speed to wrap his arms around Sebastian's waist, followed by Mey-Rin. He supposed neither had really seen him since the carriage ride, at least not when he was awake, and now that he was well enough to stand they felt they had to make their affections known. Under regular circumstances he would have had the frostiness required to push them off, but as it stood he let them, and only ruffled Finny's hair. Finny was gripping rather more tightly than he might have liked, especially around where he was wounded, but it didn't terribly bother him.

Just then, Tanaka walked into the kitchen, and raised his eyebrows. "Good morning, Mr Michaelis. How are you?" Sebastian would have bowed but he still had Finny clinging to his midsection.

"Fine, merely a little under the weather." He received an unconvinced look from Baldroy, and looks of slight surprise from Mey-Rin and Finny, who probably hadn't anticipated his hoarseness. "And yourself?"

"Very well, thank you."

"My apologies for hanging onto the young master, I wasn't..." he didn't really know a non-alarming way of explaining he hadn't been entirely there, but Tanaka shook his head and chuckled.

"Not at all. It had been a difficult journey for all three of you, arguably most of all for yourself." Sebastian bowed his head, for want of the use of his waist. Finally, Baldroy walked up to him and Finny detached himself, with Baldroy adding in an undertone that his bandages would need changing. They made their excuses, then left.

"Where's Snake?" Baldroy looked over at him.

"Hmm?"

"Where is Snake. Is he ill?" Sebastian repeated, before turning away to cough.

"Oh, Snake. He's just got a rotten cold and he's a bit shaken up, but he, or his snakes or whatever thought it would be best to at least take a few days off," Baldroy replied, glancing pointedly at him in a manner that implied Sebastian would do well to do that same. Sebastian focused equally pointedly on the wall.

Baldroy got things ready in the bathroom as Sebastian undid his shirt buttons. "How are you feeling? Really." Sebastian shrugged.

"As you'd expect."

"Still coughing up blood?"

"Yes..."

"Tired?" Sebastian sighed.

"Well, less so than yesterday."

"The wound isn't hot or anything though?" Sebastian shook his head.

"It's not infected."

"By some miracle," Baldroy muttered. "You are going to go back to bed after this though, aren't you?" Baldroy asked as he started to unwrap the bandages. Sebastian wondered if Baldroy would be quite so willing to treat his wounds if Ciel had told the servants what he was, before remembering Baldroy's love for dynamite and flame throwers, and deciding that the answer was yes on account of Baldroy's total lack of basic survival instincts.

"Yes. I heard a crash is all." Baldroy looked unconvinced.

"Right, right. Don't worry, between Agni and Tanaka we're in safe hands. I'll play Black Jack with you later, won't go easy on this time though." Sebastian cracked a slight smile. "Right, done. Don't snap your stitches please." Sebastian got up, his vision briefly going black before returning.

"Thank you, I shall endeavour not to." Baldroy sighed, and they both filed out the bathroom, with Sebastian heading back towards his temporary room. Again, he sat down on the bed, and felt tired, certainly, he felt exhausted, but not like he could sleep. He couldn't stand being so useless. He wanted to do things. He needed to see Ciel as well. Alas, circumstances did not permit.

Damn it all, he was seeing Ciel. Surely to goodness it was fine as long as he wasn't doing work.

Sebastian made himself as presentable as possible, then walked up to Ciel's room and thanked Lucifer that the town house was a good deal smaller than the Phantomhive manor. Walking was still incredibly painful, he took forever to get up the stairs and he was leaning very hard on the wall by the time he got there. He knocked, Ciel grumbled a 'come in', and Sebastian felt a wave of relief wash over him to see his young master alive. Obviously, he'd known that in theory, but it really wasn't the same as seeing it. "You look awful," Ciel remarked dryly. Sebastian smiled, feeling a swell of what he had to begrudgingly admit was affection in his chest.

"Thank you for your kind words, my Lord." Ciel looked more alert than Sebastian had seen him in weeks, albeit he clearly still wasn't well, but it meant the worst of it was behind them.

"I take it you're not actually working today?" Ciel asked, sitting up.

"I have been persuaded otherwise."

"Well thank goodness for that. By Agni, I'm guessing?" Sebastian shut the door behind him and walked over.

"Astute as ever, my Lord," Sebastian replied. Ciel was quite sharp at times. Ciel nodded to the chair next to him, and after a moment's hesitation, Sebastian sat down.

"I propose we avoid mentioning this whole mess wherever possible once it's over," Ciel suggested. Sebastian supposed it hadn't been the most dignified few days for either of them.

"I would consider that most agreeable."

"That settles it then." Clearly content with their bargain, Ciel slipped back beneath the covers and turned onto his side, facing away from Sebastian.

"You would sleep with your back to a Demon?"

"Until our contract comes to an end, it's the safest place I can feasibly be." Sebastian ruffled Ciel's hair, Ciel told him to 'bugger off', and with that relative peace descended upon the room. Finally certain that Ciel was safe, Sebastian allowed himself to relax.