Work Text:
The boy who had been pretending to be Ciel Phantomhive could barely hear what was being said. His real name didn't matter, but he would be referred to as Sirius for now.
Sirius held onto Sebastian's coat for balance, a disgusting action he would never have taken before this night. His butler Sebastian allowed it, with no comment on the behaviors befitting an Earl—even the demon's eyes had gone wide, pupils narrowing to thin slits.
Outside it was cold and rainy, and his coat was still dripping onto the polished floors of the manor. Sebastian hated cleaning the tiles and would usually bundle the Earl off to be dried and changed immediately. There was no such rush tonight. Instead, Sebastian stayed silent.
Sirius Phantomhive, the Earl, was in a state of fear and shock.
The Undertaker had been mourning his grandmother Claudia Phantomhive, with her picture in his locket. This was his father and Aunt Frances’ mother. Therefore, he had some sort of connection to the Phantomhive family. Meanwhile, the Undertaker’s experiments had all been about reviving the dead and he had progressed until they were able to pretend to be regular humans. Putting all of this together, the real Ciel Phantomhive had come back from the dead with the help of the grim reaper turned funeral parlor owner.
Sirius’ older brother was back.
Older?
“You're not the older brother,” he said out loud.
Ciel’s whole monologue grinded to a halt. His glee dashed by outrage. He slapped a hand down on the banister and sputtered out, “What in the…what in the bloody hell do you mean?” Filled with such emotion, it was easy to believe that he was a living, breathing boy and not a reanimated corpse.
“If you were dead for longer than three minutes, I'm older.” Sirius let go of Sebastian and took a step forward. He could see the servants looking at him and he signaled to them behind his back so that his brother couldn't see.
The Undertaker was no help to anyone. He was bent in half and laughing his head off, long hair brushing the stairs.
Sebastian had a hand to his mouth and was looking away.
“I was born first!” Ciel protested. “It was only three minutes between us according to mother, but that still counts.”
Sirius continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, “I was there when you were killed. You were dead for a long time.”
Sebastian agreed, “If I remember correctly, young master, the records of the hospital showed it was three minutes and two seconds.” Why he knew this, no one else there could say.
“Oh, you shut your mouth mongrel,” Ciel snapped.
Sirius held his hand up, stopping the sarcastic remark sitting on the demon’s tongue. “He is my butler and I trust his judgment.”
Bard had a shocked look on his face. He had never seen Sebastian disrespected like this. He had stayed, but the others went to search through the house. It was likely there was some sort of trap set for him at the house and Sirius hoped the clumsy fools could find it in time.
Tanaka coughed politely. “It was indeed three.” He was the only one who was trusted to be objective and accurate, as he had been with the family before the birth of the twins. His input was cordially accepted by both twins on this subject.
“I'm the older brother because I've been alive longer,” Sirius said. “You were dead, so all that matters is how long it took between your death and your revival.”
Ciel walked down the stairs and stood in front of his brother with his fists clenched. He still had two blue eyes, and it felt strange that they were no longer mirror images of each other. “No, it does not!”
The spat between brothers was interrupted by furious knocking on the door and Sebastian answered. “Why, Inspector Fred Abberline. What a pleasant surprise to see you and your men.”
Sirius invited them in and said a bit smugly, as he pointed to Ciel, “He's my younger brother.”
Ciel shouted and stamped his foot in response to this continued insult. He still acted like a vindictive child. The Undertaker might have had him grow physically, but it wasn't like Ciel had spent any time with regular people. He was still ten or so, mentally speaking, and therefore at a disadvantage.
It was hilarious how easy it was to rile Ciel up and have Sirius regain his footing. Sirius apologized for his rudeness and explained, “We look almost identical as you can see, but I'm the Earl Ciel Phantomhive. We are twins. I thought he had died in the fire with our parents. You do remember the tragic fire that burned our estate? I believed we would never see my dear younger brother again.” He paused and with fake tears welling in his eyes, looked to Scotland Yard, “I find it distasteful that our reunion has been revealed to detectives instead of our family first, but I hope you will keep it in confidence.”
“It’s a very sad tale. My young master has barely been able to speak to his younger brother and I hope you will not take up too much of their time.” Sebastian said in a solemn voice. Immediately afterward, he took out his handkerchief and hid his face behind it. While others might think that his shaking shoulders meant he was crying, Sirius very well knew that the butler was laughing at his young master. Sirius stepped on Sebastian’s foot to get the butler to stop, but that only made the demon ‘cry’ more.
Abberline was confused—eyebrows raised and eyes wise—but took off his hat and apologized for intruding without notice. “We had been tipped off that Blavat Sky was here.”
“I am afraid he is not. If he was in my custody, I would have reported it to Scotland Yard.” That was a lie, but Sirius needed to keep up his innocent appearance for the officers not acquainted with the Queen’s Guard Dog.
There was an insistence by Scotland Yard on searching the mansion and neither of the twins argued against it.
They all waited in the foyer and the longer it went on, the more Ciel’s smile fell. He was not grimacing. At a certain point, he simply did not have any expression. His lips thinned out into a horizontal line. He had expected to run his brother out of their home and teach him a lesson about his power, taking advantage of the shock over his return as a bizarre doll.
The Undertaker brushed his bangs out of his eyes. He looked towards Sebastian and Sirius. His eyes were unnerving, a yellow-green that showed his own undead state. He did not find this turn of events amusing. Even if Ciel had made some decisions, this was truly his plot.
Sirius was not the kind of person who smiled easily anymore. Instead of any outward glee, he grew languid and relaxed, back straight and shoulders back. He was a cat that lay by a pond of water or stood outside an open bird cage. He would move when he wanted to and when the time was right.
Sebastian was pretending to blow his nose with his handkerchief. He was grinning, too sharp teeth hidden behind cloth. His eyes could still be seen, and they pressed into twin crescents. He, of everyone in this mansion, knew that Ciel Phantomhive was dead. If he tried, he was sure that the aftertaste was still on his tongue. Sebastian was so incredibly smug about this situation, having consumed the soul of one twin and waiting for the other to fall into his mouth—and the only one who could see it was the Undertaker.
Tanaka simply waited with the patience of a long life. He helped Bard stay level-headed as the search went on. The other servants did not return during this time.
Sirius tilted his head to hear as Sebastian leaned down to him.
“Young master, remember what we were dealing with before we came here? His Highness had been very distraught upon seeing you.” Sebastian's eyes were a smoldering red. His demonic nature always slipped out when he was excited or angry.
Sirius was ashamed it had taken Sebastian spelling it out for him to realize. The attack on Agni and Soma has been carried out by his twin.
Why Sebastian cared enough to mention this was questionable. Sirius had seen Sebastian hold Agni, the Indian man covered in wounds yet still clinging to life. The butler had seemed almost sad at the sight. Such a strange thing for a demon. Perhaps, Sebastian had seen some value in Soma or whatever was the demon equivalent of friendship. It was possible.
Sirius turned his eyes away from his brother and studied his butler instead. He nodded and made a gesture to go ahead.
This was not mischievous glee from a terrible accident. Sebastian was genuinely angry. “I hope the young master and the Undertaker had a pleasant time in London. Did you enjoy the visit to the townhouse?”
Ciel's lips parted in surprise. “Oh you figured out we went there. Did you use your nose?”
“I thought I had taken care of everything.” The Undertaker pushed a strand of hair back from his face. “Oh well. Perhaps my scythe is rusty?” He said all of this in a teasing, sing-song manner of speech.
“It was easy to tell from the prince's reaction to my young master.” Sebastian ignored the continued attempts to call him a dog. He smiled, flashing the inhuman row of teeth on display. “I do admire the showmanship, but I'm afraid your performance tonight has simply flopped.”
“I have to prepare another play, soon,” the Undertaker replied.
“Yes, I'm sure we would all be dreadfully bored without your theatrics.”
Sirius scoffed. “I would have much preferred a quiet evening.”
Eventually, Inspector Abberline returned and announced that they had found nothing suspicious. He did not seem annoyed, but had stopped playing with the cigar in his pocket. He was sure he didn’t need it anymore.
The servants—Mey Rin, Finnian, and Snake—must have been successful in whatever else they found.
Sirius was sure that Ciel had tried to frame him with something related to the Sphere Music Hall and Blavat Sky. He just wasn’t sure what.
Inspector Abberline had one last question before he left the mansion with his men. “Where are the rest of your servants?”
“They must have been caught in this rain on their way back. They wanted to have a picnic out in the country.”
“Yes, your servants would do that. I hope they don't catch a cold. Earl Phantomhive, Lord Phantomhive, goodbye.” Before Sebastian closed the door, Abberline looked back. His expression had changed and he made eye contact with Sirius, the Earl Phantomhive. It was clear that he was closing his investigation now because he held some trust for these slimy constituents of his that used any methods available to them. He was a good man. What a shame.
The Undertaker had started to laugh again. “It’s quite amusing, your response, Earl. I had expected less from you, and I was wrong.” He was holding onto the stair banister, fingers just a bit too strong to avoid putting divots into the wood.
The foyer was still brightly lit. Rain and mud had been tracked all over by the detectives. Scotland Yard might be sent a cleaning bill, considering the look Sebastian had as he looked over the tile.
Sirius waited for a few moments to ensure the detectives had left. He handed Sebastian his coat. “I can’t believe a dead man has come back to make a fuss about inheritance. What a younger brother thing to do.”
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Ciel responded. His hands were clenched into fists, but the nails were short and well filed, unable to draw his own blood by accident.
“Too many things to count.” Sirius crossed his arms. He felt confident now, even with this ghost looming over him. “Would you like to measure our heights now, with Tanaka as witness? Who knows if I’ve grown taller than you too.”
“Come off it! We're twins.”
“Twins, where one of us died and came back from the dead as a bizarre doll.” There was fondness in Sirius's voice from memories that were tinted sepia and worn down, but still there. “And I would remind you, how you always referred to yourself as my older brother and that I needed to be taken care of. I'm not sickly anymore.”
From down the kitchen hall, there came the missing people from this equation. They were all soaking wet and must have come in from the rain. Elizabeth was supporting the maid Mey-rin, who had a broken shoe. Snake and Finnian had a hold of Blavat Sky’s arms. One of Snake’s friends was curled around the fortune teller’s throat.
“Ciel?” Elizabeth said, questioningly. She looked between the twins and it wasn’t sure who she was referring to.
There was venom in Ciel that was never there before his kidnapping and death. His stare was from cold eyes, truly a dead man brought back by a grim reaper.
Sirius could understand it. There was nothing he hadn't loathed about his time with the cult. He faced the terrors of his memories every night and only after the first year had he started to win.
Ciel crossed his arms. He was pouting, the way he always did after losing chess to Sirius or their father. “How did you know about Blavat?”
Sirius smiled. He stepped forward, held his hand out with the palm up. “Let's talk properly, little brother.”