Mad World {PHAN}

Shuttered Eyes

                 
November 21, 2004-

3:08 a.m.

The sky is the color of dark slate, despite it having been post-card perfect just hours before. A young man in a deep green jacket and distressed jeans makes his way up the hill leading to the cemetery gates. The sky lightens slightly, the way a person's eyes might, in recognition and the earth around him seems to sigh, as if acknowledging his arrival. The trees murmur amongst themselves as he makes his way down the path of crowded graves, and their branches hang as he passes them by in silent mourning.

"Do you think the stars ever want to make themselves explode?"

There is utter silence following the inquiry as the boy lays, drenched, on the late spring grass. The stone parallel to him sits as cold and distant as the body beneath it. He expected no more than this, and yet some part of him despairs at the lack of response.

"I think they do." The young man with the troubled brown eyes continues, "I bet they cave in on themselves when everyone else turns to the sun."

He closes his eyes, and for a moment there is nothing but the whispers of the wind, and the gentle thrum of the rain. He raises a pale hand, and with the shadow of childlike innocence, connects the stars in made-up constellations.

"Are you up there?" he questions, voice wavering, "Are you one of them, part of our Bear?"

The Bear was the boy's favorite constellation, but lately he'd avoided looking towards the sky at night. The vastness of it frightened him.

"Won't you come back? I miss you y'know." The broken teen reaches out and trails his trembling fingers down the side of the tombstone. He knows there won't be a response, and yet he can't help but wait for one. Despite his pain, he can't help but hope; however, one can only hope for so long, and he's been waiting for months.

"Why did you leave without me?" This isn't the first time he's asked, and he's sure it won't be the last.

Heart-shattering sobs rip their way past the massive lump in the boy's throat, and his hands dig into the soft ground beneath him, seeking for the warmth he'd lost. "You said you wouldn't leave! You promised that you'd never leave me!"

In that moment, something within the boy collides with his grief, and shatters. As his fingers cling to the earth, and his tears fall like fragile diamonds that crumble at contact, he loses something. A vital part of himself is left in ruins, and its pieces are scattered across the grave.

October 20th, 2009-

12:09 a.m.

The boy's cerulean eyes look up at Daniel pleadingly. Somehow, the hurt and fear presented so openly in them, make him regret his decision to abduct the boy.

Phil doesn't know, or understand why he'd allowed himself to be persuaded into following a stranger into the woods. His mouth is covered by a cloth that smells of damp earth, and any attempts at yelling for help had ended when he realized no one would hear him. He knew there was no point in screaming himself horse, and so he simply sat there, his face an open book in contrast to his captor's shuttered eyes. He'd heard of Daniel, of course, and having even that glimpse of what the man was capable of, made him sure he was as good as dead. After all, there were no survivors of the man's attacks, and the police made a point of keeping the gory details to themselves.

Sighing, Daniel moved across the room of his 'works space', all the while aware of the eyes following his every move. 'Such a shame...,' Dan thought, 'and to think we'd started out so well.' He sagged into his desk chair and rolled back to where Phil sat.  The two stared at each other, Daniel watching Phil's emotions flicker back and forth between fear and hurt, and Phillip trying to figure out what Dan would do next.  Finally, Dan reached forward, meaning to free Phil's mouth, despite knowing the risks involved in doing so, but freezing midway when Phil flinched back and attempted to burrow further into the wall. His anger flared and he raised his hand, this time fully intent on hurting the boy. He paused again, his mind supplying him with an image of the boy's pale cheek marked red by his hand. This usually spurred him on, he usually enjoyed inflicting pain, and usually the images his mind conjured were tinted with contentment. This time, he stopped. This time he was repulsed by the idea of causing harm to the fragile creature before him. He became aware of the boy's wide eyes watching him in alarm, and the disgust multiplied tenfold, causing his expression to soften uncharacteristically.

Dan exhaled and ran a hand through his hair before getting up and walking out of the room. Phil looked up, curious as to why the man had left, his anxiety causing him to wonder if perhaps he'd gone to get something to hurt him. Dan walked up the two flights of stairs that led to his house, all the while wondering if it was too late to give the boy back. 'No,' he decided, 'he's already seen me, and he could easily run off to the police... unless I scare him enough to hold his tongue... or kill him.' Sighing, Dan shook his head as he opened the door that led to his laundry room.

"You really didn't think this one through did you Dan?"

"No, I didn't."

"You know it won't be long before someone notices he's gone."

"Well, he seems to think otherwise, so we'll just keep him feeling that way," Dan bit his lip in thought, "at least until we get him to trust us."

October 20th, 2009-

4:08 a.m.

Sebastian held back an exasperated sigh. Sure he knew the lady's son had just disappeared, but, while he understood her distress, there were more pressing issues than one woman's 16 year old. Not only had that, but thousands of teens ran away from home at this age, especially if they felt unwanted, or underappreciated; and, from how the kid's brother spoke about him, he could tell that was the case now.

"He's a dweeb," the boy had said, "He'll probably come back when he's done with this stupid tantrum of his."

Their mother seemed to believe otherwise.

"He was taken, I'm telling you!" she'd cried, "My boy wouldn't just leave!"

In the end, the only one who could decide what would be done in regards to the boy's disappearance was the Chief.

"Michaelis, tell the woman we'll file the report, but that's about as much as we can do right now. Most of our officers are too busy with the Howl cases to be concerned with this." Chief Phantomhive had said, and of course Sebastian had did just that, sans the explanation. However, the woman just wouldn't take it, so he and his partner simply left after gathering all the information they could on Mrs. Lester's lad.

"Seems to me the boy ran away, Sebs," his partner said, exhaling smoke from one corner of his mouth.

"Yes, it does seem like that doesn't it?" He glanced to his right, "Bard, if you insist on smoking in here, would it kill you to open the window?" He heard a muttered 'sorry', that, with the cigarette between Bard's lips, sounded more like 'swothy'.

The time read 4:47 a.m. and city was still asleep, which made Sebastian all the more bitter about having had to leave the warmth of his bed so early. Just under the low hum of the vehicle, Sebastian heard the moment when his partner's breathing fell into the slow rhythm of sleep.

In the silence, he allowed himself to hope that Phillip Lester's disappearance was as irrelevant as they were making it.

Note:

....Hi? I realize it's been almost a year since the last chapter, and I apologize for that, but I'M BACK and you will not believe how long it took me to write this. It honestly seems as if I have to time to myself.

I'd also like to point out that, no, I don't own any of the characters from Black Butler, and by Chief Phantomhive , I mean Vincent Phantomhive.

oh and leave comments, yeah? Your feedback feeds my imagination, and I'd probably get to writing the next chapter sooner.