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Where? Where? Where?

Summary:

Public high school is hard enough without the heavy trauma.

Notes:

WARNINGS: Mention of the Holocaust, panic attacks, past abuse, mention of nightmares and sleep paralysis, past and semi-healed injuries, flashbacks, mentioned assault/murder (just wanting to neither actually happens)
I was going to try to write a BNHA oneshot and then that just FLOPPED in my head but I want to get out something familiar before diving into Sk8 the Infinity and Bungou Stray Dogs, and I cosplayed Ciel recently sooooo this is going to be DARK and HEAVY (even as a human modern AU) if the warnings didn't already tell you that so proceed with caution. Ages are bent around, so when I call the Phantomhive servants a throuple it isn't like canon where Bardroy is nearly double Finny's age, they're all in high school (I didn't look at their ages until after I wrote I didn't realize their age difference was so large).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Ciel was, quite honestly, ready for the day to be over. He normally was, at school at least, but especially so considering all of the shit that's been building up.

Waking up from his normal night terrors at 5 am only to find that his legal guardian, Sebastian, had had to leave for work early wasn't the best start, and after the extra hour of sleep he managed to get in on the couch he had a nasty bout of sleep paralysis. Within the possible hour he'd been conscious it had been completely obvious that the day was going to go to shit. He forced himself to school, though, not wanting to miss the major test he had in French (nor wanting to be stuck alone at home, which would also end up drawing attentionto his weakness to himself due to his absence), and figuring he could stay in his aunt's office after school if Sebastian still wasn't home.

As much as he loved his cousin and best friend (loathe as he was to admit it), Lizzie was very touchy-feely and today that would not help, as much as she'd want it to, so he felt grateful that she went to a different school. Alois could be much the same, but he understood the boundary much better, having been in a similar situation (they didn't talk much about it, never talked about their early preteen years with anyone else either, but there was the acknowledgment there and they'd learned to read each other well), as well as managing to fend off other acquaintances ("it wouldn't hurt to call them friends, Ciel") of theirs, especially the eccentric throuple of Mey-Rin, Finny, and Bardroy.

The morning passed well enough; he felt sickly, couldn't pay attention, and psychogenic pains were flaring up, not to mention how difficult it could be to get around when you're completely blind in one eye, but he made it through just as he always did. None of his triggers were very common in a school setting, and people tended to avoid him and Alois like the plague so other students weren't an issue.

He hadn't been able to go to his aunt's room for lunch break since she'd been dealing with something or other, but he'd certainly have tea with her after school (he hoped that she still had some of those cakes he really liked), and that was enough thought to get him through the afternoon.

Most of the day passed similarly, in fact, until history. He despised history, knowing most anything they taught since childhood for one reason or another, and hated how they spared most of the fun, bloody details, but today the fates seemed really out to get him, based on the two words written on the whiteboard.

The Holocaust

One subject he rarely dared to touch, because of how similar much of it was to the thoughts and opinions of his old captors. Nonetheless, it was still a public school discussion, bare bones-ed, and while it would certainly hit him later he didn't want Sebastian to be called for him skipping.

He'd be fine, right?

~*~

He was not fine.

They were about 5 minutes into a video about the death camps when Ciel left the room without a word, ignoring the teacher yelling out for him as he moved on autopilot through the hallways. It was only once the fluorescent lights began bouncing off shiny white tile that he realized he had made his way to the bathrooms, as he moved to lock himself in one of the stalls. He sat and hunched over, one hand digging into his hair while the other scrabbled at the eyepatch that hid his split iris, fogged cornea, and bloody sclera that stubbornly remained for years after beginning treatment. He couldn't tell the real sensory input from the psychological ones, unsure if the screaming was sounds of old torture or normal public school fuckery, torn between closing his eyes tight against the blinding lights or keeping them open to stop memories from flashing on the back of his eyelids. There were hands everywhere, hands everywhere, hands everywhere get them off-

"Shh shh, oh Ciel, it's alright, come back to me, it's jus..." The voice faded in and out against the background noises, but when warm metal was pressed to his palm, his focus zeroed in on it. He couldn't remember what it was, where it was from, why it was important, but it calmed him and so he held it close and ran his fingers over it in a familiar pattern.

It wasn't long after that he became aware that the person with him was running their hand along the clasp of his eyepatch. He couldn't remember who it was, hell he could barely remember who he was at the moment, but instinctively this person radiated safety and he leaned closer to them, inhaling the slightly sterile but floral sweet scent that he could only connect to comfort. They moved their fingers to undo his eyepatch from where it was left askew by his earlier ministrations, and he let them, tucking his head into their shoulder as the sensitive left eye was left at the mercy of the fluorescents. Flashes of red swam whenever his eyes slipped open, but rather than the dark, viscous blood of before it was light, relaxing, and some strands were airy, loose, soft. It tickled at memories, deep in his head, but he couldn't follow them if he wanted to (which he didn't, the memories already plaguing him were plenty overwhelming, he didn't need more, positive or otherwise), instead burrowing further into the chest of the person, listening to their calm heartbeat as they pet over his head and back, clearly well efficient in grounding.

~*~

As common as the sight was, it still broke Angelina's heart every time she saw her nephew hurting like this. She never claimed to be a particularly... moral, woman (to be fair, no part of the Phantomhive bloodline, married in or otherwise, seemed to be), but nothing made her fill with bloodlust like remembering the hell that Ciel had been put through, so soon after losing his parents. If it weren't for the fact that most of the members of the group had... "mysteriously disappeared" (she can't say it was a surprise to her, she only wished she'd been given a heads up to join the fun. Perhaps the best part of her late sister marrying Vincent, besides the boy cuddled into her, was how easy it was to pay off the necessary people to have a bit more freedom with the law), well, her girlfriend Grell would certainly have had a fun time.

A particularly wet cough jostled her from her thoughts, and she moved to rub circles between Ciel's shoulder blades, hoping that this attack wouldn't trigger his asthma. He'd been wheezing slightly since she came in, but it hadn't gotten any worse, and so long as it stayed that way he'd be good to come straight back to her office once he'd calmed sufficiently. She made sure his numb fingers didn't drop the ring, displaying the Phantomhive family crest, that so often brought him comfort as she knew his panic attacks always made his extremities lose feeling.

She sent out a text to the teacher Ciel had had when (presumably, hopefully he hadn't been here for multiple periods) he left, only to be filled with the urge to bash her head against the wall. She forgot, she fucking forgot to pull Ciel out of the Holocaust lesson, too busy with Agni and Soma (the exchange students) and their host families that she hadn't realized what day it was. She'd hoped that the boy would have some sense to leave class, none of the teachers much stopped him anymore (most too smart to, a few too scared of him, which Angelina finds hilarious. The only who still tried were too new to know better), but of course the stubborn little shit insisted on riding it out. Or trying to.

Considering his current position curled up into her body, it clearly didn't work. At least, as far as she could tell, he was coming out of it. Still shaking like a leaf, tears still streaming down his face, but he seemed to be seeing the actual bathroom instead of wherever his memories had taken him. "Hush now, darling. Do you know where you are?"

"A-aun-" his voice cracked before cutting out completely, but it was enough confirmation that he at least recognized her.

"Very good, Ciel. Come along, let's go to my office, yeah? You're excused from your last classes, and I'll call Sebastian so he can come pick you up. That sound alright?" His nod was shaky and stiff, but a response nonetheless. She helped him to his feet, making sure he kept his weight on her and didn't fall (another flashback or an injury, no matter how minor, were the last things they needed right now) as they made their way across the school to her office.

Once safely away from anyone who might come snooping, the grey-haired teen curled up in his spot under her desk, burrowing in the weighted blanket she kept there and accepting the stuffed animal she offered without reacting, showing how truly out of it he was. She sat near him, leaning against the wooden drawers that helped make up Ciel's comfort corner, simply talking about her day. She kept her tone light, no matter whether it fit what she was saying or not, letting the boy do whatever he needed to to get through the afternoon.

It was soon after his breathing was completely back to normal that she called Sebastian, telling the office secretary to send him straight in when he showed up. Even as normally formal and relatively expressionless as the man was, he rushed in to check on his son and make sure he was okay. Ciel was now on his phone, likely texting Alois to distract himself (and giving his aunt a clear picture of the blush that overtook his face every so often), and he leaned into the hand that his father held out to him, eyes half closing in contentment as Angelina ran her nails lightly along the back of his hand.

The two adults shared a look as Sebastian moved to help Ciel up (and half carry him to the awaiting car), a silent promise that they'd get updates that night and the next day Ciel should come to school.

He was a stubborn little shit who knew way too much, but he was still only 14, and they wished he'd keep that in mind more.

Notes:

I have no idea why this took like, a week to write but it did.