Ciel x Reader ~Home~ Ch. 4

Chapter IV: Take Me to the Graveyard



After you awoke the next morning, you still felt some lingering sadness from last night's events. None of it made sense to you; why had Sebastian told Ciel to stay away from you? Why was he doing everything in his power to keep you two apart?

“_____, are you awake yet?” You heard Bard call. “Time to make breakfast.”

“Coming.” You called back weakly, your voice strained. You wanted to just stay in bed and sort through your scrambled thoughts and emotions, but you knew you had to put all that aside and resume work today. You quickly pulled on your uniform and hurried to the kitchen in a very somber mood. You really didn't feel like working today, or doing anything for that matter. Before you could reach the kitchen, however, Mey-Rin stopped you in your tracks.

“_____, I've been looking everywhere for you.” She said, her voice a bit more serious than normal. Her expression was blank and she looked you dead in the eye. “It's important.”

'Something's not right here,' you thought. 'What's going on?'

“Mey-Rin, what's wrong?” You asked, pulse racing.

“I don't know,” She said honestly. “But the young master Ciel has called you into his office and wants to speak with you right away...”

“What?” You asked, eyes widening. 'Something weird is definitely going on,'

“He sent me to fetch you as soon as possible.” She continued.

“I wonder why...?” You thought aloud and began to make your way to his office. The trip from the kitchen to his office was one you'd traveled many times before, but today it seemed endless. Usually when you took this path, you were bringing him dinner, not going to go speak to him for reasons unknown. Something was definitely not right, and you were going to find out why. Finally you reached his door, and gave it a cautious knock.

“Come in,” You heard Ciel say from beyond the door.

Without saying a word, you slowly opened the door and timidly stepped inside with your eyes closed, unsure of what you might find there. When you nervously peeked opened your eyes, the scene in front of you was nothing too out of the ordinary. Ciel was sitting comfortably at his desk, resting his head in his hands, with Sebastian standing close by his side.

“Please, have a seat,” Ciel said, gesturing to one of the chairs set in front of his desk.

You obeyed and sat down in one of the fancy green chairs, your mind racing. “Um, excuse me, but could you please tell me why you have called me here today?” You asked nervously, unable to withstand the tension any longer.

Ciel sighed. “_____, are you aware of... who you really are?”

You looked at him, even more confused than before. “I... I don't know what you're talking about.”

“So, you don't know?” He didn't seem very surprised at all. “Who you really are?”

“I don't understand,” You said, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you.

“I see.” He sighed, looking down at his desk.

After a short pause, you spoke up, saying, “Does it matter?”

“Hm?” Now it was Ciel's turn to be confused.

“Does it matter who I really am?” You said, feeling a bit more confident in yourself. “I am me no matter what, and that is all that matters, right?”

You saw a glint of sadness flash in Ciel's eye after you said that. “_____, I'm sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“_____...” You heard Sebastian finally cut into the conversation. “It appears that you do not remember some things about your past...”

“Remember what?” You asked, growing even more curious, afraid, and confused all at the same time.

“Perhaps... it's best I just returned what is rightfully yours...” He said, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder.

“Please just tell me,” You said, growing slightly agitated. “What this is all about.”

“_____, It seems you've forgotten some things, and think it's best I return your memories to you now.”

“How could you return memories I've already forgotten?” You asked, intrigued.

“You'll find out soon enough.” He placed a gloved hand on your forehead. “Now, _____, are you sure you want me to return your memory? Please understand that these may not be very fond memories, and they may be quite painful for you to relive. It will not be a very pleasant experience. These memories might change you, you might not be the same after you've remembered.”

“Please, Sebastian, I just want to know the truth. I don't care about the consequences.” You said confidently.

“Then, I shall return your memory to you now.” He said smoothly as he placed one hand on your forehead and covered your eyes with the other. “Just relax, _____, this won't take very long...”

You felt a burning sensation in your head and the world started getting hazy. Blackness clouded your vision, and eventually you succumbed to the darkness and let yourself fall into a deep slumber.

~*~

Darkness.

Nothing but darkness surrounded you. You looked around aimlessly, desperately searching for some sort of light. Nothing.

You tried to remember how you got here, but your mind drew a complete blank. You felt so alone, so vulnerable, and so scared. Suddenly your feet collapsed from under you and you were in free-fall. Falling, deeper, and deeper down, you wondered where you would land, or if it would ever end. You grasped desperately at the air, flailing and screaming for something, anything, to save you. You'd been falling for far too long, so eventually you just gave up and waited for that moment when you'd meet your fate.

That moment never came. The intense shock and jolt of sudden pain that you were expecting never came. The end never came.

Eventually you noticed what appeared to be small bubbles floating around you in the nothingness. Inside them reflected images of familiar-looking scenes, filling you with a strange sense of nostalgia. They seemed... almost trapped within those bubbles, unable to break free. That's when you realized that you were floating in your own memory. You curiously reached out and touched one of the images, instantly making the darkness dissolve away to be replaced by a nostalgic image of your childhood “home”. It was a simple house, light cream with black shutters. You curiously stepped up to the door and walked inside, feeling yourself transform into the 7-year-old version of you.

“Hi Mom,” You smiled tensely as you entered the room, taking a cautious look around the house. “I'm home from school.”

“Hi honey, have a good day at school?” She asked.

“Not really,” You griped. “The lessons were boring and the teacher kept telling me to stay quiet.”

Your mom laughed. “One day you'll have to learn to obey the rules, _____”

You giggled and poked your tongue out. “Never.”

Your mom glanced around the room cautiously, she seemed to be just as scared as you.

“Mommy, is Daddy not home yet?” You asked, as if reading her mind.

“Yes.” She sighed. “He's not here.”

You sighed in relief. Both you and your mom dreaded the moment when your father got home from “work,” or whatever the hell he did during the day. You didn't like to think about it that much, and avoided talking about it at all costs. Because, every day, you and your mother were abused and beaten.

Mercilessly.

This had been going on as long as you can remember.

You gasped for air as you felt your body return to normal and the world around you collapsed like dust. The earth under you dissolved and you were falling again as you watched the memory fade away. Once you realized what was happening, you were a bit calmer this time and started seeing the little bubbles appear again. You floated around through these for a while until you a found a certain memory that stood out to you. It was clouded over with a strange red haze, and you couldn't make out what any of the images were. You decided to try to reach out to it like you had done before, but it slipped away from you. As you continued to follow the strange memory and struggle to reach it, you noticed the peculiar red fog start to clear a little. A jolt of electricity shot through your arm as you finally touched it, and the darkness once again dissipated to reveal an image of your childhood home again. You felt yourself transform into the 7-year-old version of you once more, but this time, things felt... different. You felt... almost angry, no, that was not anger. Rage. It was a flame of pure rage and hatred burning in your body, and it scared you to the core. You strode into your home without any fear at all, passing right by your father in the living room. For god's sake, you were in a terrible mood and really didn't want to deal with your parents right now. Your father's sharp voice ringing through the air pierced your eardrums and made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Get back here, young lady!” He yelled in an extremely agitated tone. 'Oh crap,' you thought. This was not good at all. Certainly he had gotten upset at work again, went and got drunk again, only to take it out on you again.

Every fiber of your being wanted to scream “No!” and run away. But even at your young naïve age of seven, you knew that it would be no use and would just make him angrier. Reluctantly you trudged back into the living room where your father was. Your mom, however, had made herself scarce in the kitchen, clearly avoiding your enraged and drunken father as well. “Yes, father?” You said politely, trying in vain not to agitate him further. Oh god, those words felt so forced and disgusting on your tongue, you practically spat them out and it made you want to scrub your tongue with disinfectant afterwards.

“Come here.” He demanded, reaching out and grabbing your forearm harshly.

That was it. You'd had enough of this and refused to be pushed around by him anymore. You refused to let him control your life with fear anymore. You were finally going to tell him what you'd wanted to tell him for so long.

“No.”

“What did you say?!” He growled menacingly.

“I said no.” You raised your tone in defiance, throwing all your fears out the window.

He growled again and grabbed you by your shirt collar roughly. “Listen you little punk, I don't-”

Before he could say anymore, you interrupted him by raising your voice over his. “I refuse to let you push me around anymore. Every day you go out and get drunk, only to come home and take out your aggression on me and mom. We're the ones who have to take the brunt of your problems, and I'm sick of it. I can't take it anymore. Grow up and learn how to deal with your silly little problems on your own.” You spat in sheer distaste, your face contorting into a look of disgust.

He slapped you across the face, hard. You or your mother had never talked back to your dad like that, but damn did it feel good to release everything you've wanted to say for the longest time. You didn't care how much pain you were in, you were satisfied in knowing that you didn't have to lie anymore. Your mother, overhearing the present situation burst into the room, knowing all too well that all hell would break loose after you said those words.

Your father raised a fist to hit you again. He hit you first in your shoulder, then your side, then your face. You didn't bother trying to hide or cover yourself anymore. You just stiffened and stood sturdy as a statue, feet planted firmly into the ground. You honestly just didn't care anymore. Blow after blow, hit after hit, you remained cold and still as a rock. He stopped very briefly to fumble around in his jacket pocket for something. When he finally found what he was apparently looking for, you noticed that it was his pocket knife that he carried around with him and he flicked it open in one quick movement. This was it. This was your worst nightmare manifested in reality. He had finally snapped.

“Please don't-” Your mother protested helplessly.

In response, your father just hit her across the face.

“Don't interfere.” He roared.

He turned back to you and held the knife to your neck. You could feel the cold metal brush dangerously close to your jugular, making you squirm in his grasp instinctively. “I think it's time you learned how to behave.” He whispered in an accusing tone. You knew full well that you had done nothing wrong enough to deserve this; and also that most likely you were not going to have the joy of seeing the sun rise in the morning.

“Go ahead,” You permissed. “Kill me. It won't solve anything anyway.” You replied apathetically.

You felt his grip on your arm tighten, and the cold blade of the knife touch your neck, not quite cutting it yet. You closed your eyes and were just about to embrace your fate when suddenly you heard a loud clatter and heard the knife drop to the floor. Your eyes shot open to see that your mother had hit your father with a large metal lamp stand. Part of you pondered where she got it from, another part in complete shock. She scooped up your badly bruised and bleeding form and hurried up the stairs, knowing that she only had mere seconds to get you out of there.

“M-mom?” You coughed, the pain finally kicking in. Geez, did it hurt.

“Ssh honey, everything will be alright.” She whispered reassuringly. For a moment, you wanted to just fall asleep in her caring arms, but you knew that you had to stay awake, for the good of the both of you. She ran into the nearest bedroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it to buy herself some more time.

She picked you up and shoved in the closet, hiding you behind some old coats. “Don't move, don't cry, don't make a sound at all.” She whispered in an imperative tone. You obeyed and just nodded in response. She gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and whispered, “Everything is going to be alright, _____. Just wait right here. You'll be okay, I promise.” She whispered false hopes to you in an attempt to calm you down.

“Mama.” You choked, your voice dry, tears brimming in your eyes. She kissed your forehead one last time before whispering, “I love you, _____,” before quickly closing the closet doors. You heard a loud commotion and your father reentering the room. Childish curiosity got the best of you, and you peeked out through one of the small slats in the closet doors, only to see your father standing in the doorway with a large knife that you recognized as one of your mother's best kitchen knives. You were absolutely scared out of your wits in that moment.

Slash!

The scene in front of you shaded with crimson. You saw her scream. You saw the look of bitter disgust in his eyes, they glinted bright red with sheer hatred. You saw her cry for help. You saw her bleeding, crying, dying. You saw, and instantly regretted looking. You could take this no longer, you had to do something to save her. After all, it was you had made him so angry in the first place. This was all your fault. Feeling a flame of bitter hatred flickering within you, something within you snapped. You let instinct completely take over your actions. Flinging the closet doors open, you jumped on him, clawing at his face in an attempted to distract him from your badly injured mother.

He cursed loudly at you and you growled in response. You yanked the knife from his hand and punched him square in the face. In this moment, you were a completely different person. You were foreign to yourself, hatred and rage had taken over. You were not you anymore. It was then, in a split second, that you realized what you really were.

You punched him again mockingly, with all your might. “How does it feel,” You growled in hatred. “To be on the other end for once?”

He then did something that both surprised you and agitated you even more. He laughed.

“Do you seriously think that you can hurt me, kid? You're just a pathetic little child.”

“Said the man with the knife to his throat,” You mocked bitterly, fury absolutely seething through every pore.

“So you are my daughter after all.” He smirked.

“As much I'd hate to admit it, yes, I am.” You replied.

Thinking he had caught you off guard, he kicked you in the stomach. You flinched and he was able to free himself from you. You struggled for a few minutes, rolling around and fighting like savages. He hit you in the ribs, and you reflexively jabbed the knife forward in defense. He reeled backwards and fell to the floor, you had hit him right in the heart. You dropped to your knees, instantly realizing what you had done. You crawled over to your nearly lifeless mother, and quickly checked her for any signs of life. “Mom...” you said, tears beginning to flow down your face.

“_____...” She breathed.

“Mom, I-I didn't mean to!” You cried. “It's all my fault!”

“It's not your fault...”

“B-but-” You sobbed.

She reached out her hand and cradled your tear-stained face. “Ssh, _____, it'll all be over soon.” She pulled you close to her heart.

“But mama,” you sobbed. “I'm a-a...” You paused, barely able to mutter the words that haunted your mind. “I'm a demon.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Both your father and I were, but we didn't want to t-tell you until you were r-ready.” She coughed harshly, and you knew that her time was drawing near. She had lost too much blood, you were afraid that you were a bit too late.

“I'm sorry, mom, I'm so so sorry!” You sobbed into her chest.

“It's going to be okay, sweetie.” She coughed, comfortingly stroking your (h/c) hair. After that she muttered a few incantations and everything started to go blank.

“Mama, I'm sleepy.” You whispered, feeling your eyelids get heavy. You were still in a lot of pain, and it only seemed to get worse as the adrenaline began to wear off. How you managed to survive the whole ordeal was beyond you.

“______, This is my final gift to you,” She whispered. “I'm going to erase any memory of this, and of you ever being a demon, so that it won't burden you for the rest of your life. I only wish you happiness in the future ahead of you.”

“I love you, mom – and thank you.” You sobbed.

“I love you too, ______.”

You felt the world around you crumble and collapse like before, and you were jolted back into your normal body. 'No.' You thought, 'This can't be right. I'm... a murderer? And a... demon?'

A strange light appeared ahead of you and you floated towards it. Before you knew it, you were thrust back into reality; and you found yourself back in a chair in Ciel's office.

You slid out of the chair and fell onto your knees, collapsing into the floor and burying your face in your hands. “It... wasn't my fault.” You sobbed.

You wanted to change it all. You wanted to go back in time and change everything, but you knew that even demons didn't have that kind of power. You just wanted everything that's happened in the past to just go away. You gave a choked scoff in spite of yourself, this must be what you mother had been trying to protect you from when she erased your memory. You silently thanked her for saving you from this fate temporarily, burying your face in the rug and clutching it's soft fibers tightly in your fists. 'I must be making quite the scene,' You thought quietly to yourself.

Ciel and Sebastian exchanged concerned glances with each other and walked over to your side.

Ciel cautiously placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but didn't say anything.

You looked up at him with big tear-stained (e/c) eyes. “Ciel, I'm a-”

“I know.” He cut you off. “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“Ciel, remember that nightmare I told you about?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

“Yeah, why is that important?” He asked.

“Because...” You started nervously, choking back sobs. “It really wasn't a suicide after all. It was me who, k-killed him.”

His one unpatched eye widened. “What?”

“The demon part of me took over, I was still so young and couldn't control it yet... and I attacked him out of both self-defense and vengeance. I j-just wanted to protect my m-mom.” You stuttered.

“It's alright, it wasn't your fault.” He comforted.

You took a deep breath to compose and prepare yourself before speaking again. “Ciel, these past few weeks spent as your servant have truly been the best in my life, and I have greatly enjoyed my time spent here,” You began. “But I guess I can no longer impose on you, because I doubt you'd want someone like me - a demon - as your servant.” You wanted to cry as you muttered those words. You certainly did not want to return to your old life on the streets, but that seemed fairly inevitable now. You felt warm tears pricking your already tear-stained eyes, and you desperately choked back tears in a vain attempt to maintain composure. 'Come on, ______, be strong. Be strong.'

Sebastian scoffed, like he was holding in a chuckle. It was then that you noticed the strange aura around him, and you sensed that he was also a demon.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Sebastian, I didn't notice-”

“It's quite alright, ______.” He replied in his usual cool manner.

“But, I'm... a demon and a murderer...” You croaked, feeling guilty.

“Why can't you understand?” Ciel sighed, furrowing an eyebrow in frustration. He lifted his head slowly to lock his icy stare with yours. You twitched uncomfortably under his cold gaze and, for a moment, you were afraid you'd made him upset. “It doesn't matter what you are and what you've done. That's all in the past now, it's time to move forward. You even said it yourself; You are you no matter what. We won't think any less of you because of it.”

You were dumbstruck. Even Sebastian seemed a little surprised. No one had ever said anything that kind to you before, and it made your heart feel all warm and mushy and weird. It was that damned feeling people called “happiness” that you were still getting accustomed to. “T-thank you,” Was about all you were able to mutter coherently at that point.

After a short pause, you added with a whisper, “So... I can stay?”

“Of course. It shall be no problem, there is no reason why you should return to the streets when you already have a home here.” Ciel said.

You flinched when he said the word “home.”

Then it clicked with you. For once in your life, you had a home. More than just a roof and four walls, but a place where you belonged. A place where you had a place a sleep, food to eat, and people who actually cared about you. What more could you possibly want? You had everything you could ever need, right here. How had you been so blind to think that you weren't welcome here anymore because of what you were?

Finally you understood. You swallowed the irritating lump in your throat and silently thanked your mother again for saving you from this fate temporarily. Had you known of your past while you were on the streets... you shuddered at the thought. You probably would have ended up stealing or conning or in prison. Or worse – even killing someone else.

Everything that had happened up to this point, the giant gap in your memory, and Sebastian's suspicions about you, all made sense for once. Finally it all fit together.

You smiled a genuine smile. “Thank you, Ciel. For everything. I truly am grateful. For taking in someone like me, and giving me a better life than I'd ever dreamed, I could never thank you enough.” You said, giving a little bow of respect at the end.

“It was nothing, ______. You were so frail and weak when we found you, anyone would have taken you in seeing you in that state. It's human nature.” Ciel stated.

'Not you, Ciel.' Sebastian thought to himself, but didn't say anything. 'He's usually not the type to take pity on anyone, let alone complete strangers. But somehow, this girl has warmed his cold heart. It'll be interesting to watch where this goes. I should still keep an eye on her though, I know her type, better than anyone. Hell, her and I of the same species, after all.'

You suddenly fixated yourself on the intricate weave of the carpet, avoiding looking at either of them. Knowing that both you and Sebastian were demons – it was all just a little too much to take. Waiting for one of them to say something, but the air remained silent.

“Hey, Ciel?” You asked quietly, but still loud enough to break the silence that had fallen.

“Yes?”

“I know I shouldn't ask assistance from my boss, but... Can I... Perhaps, ask a favor of you?” You asked shyly, eyes still fixated on the pattern of the rug to avoid his piercing stare.

“What is it?” He replied calmly.

“Well,” You turned to face him, stating boldly, “Please, take me to the graveyard.”