Title: Night
Rating: T
Pairing: Sebaciel
Warnings: Mentions of self harm, can be potentially triggering to those who have depression, AU, OOC, unedited

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Night

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Ciel doesn't know what it is, but it keeps him awake at night.

It used to be Sebastian's incredible warmth surrounding him, filling up the bed, warming him from the inside out. It used to be the way he would fall asleep to murmured words and mumbled kisses pressed against the back of his neck. Those things still exist, but they don't lull him to sleep the way they used to.

He's still awake every night, listening to the light breaths that escape his boyfriend's mouth. His chest hurts, but not in the way that asthma grabs him in a chokehold sometimes. It's more like a dull stab of pain that twists into his gut and rises into his throat. He turns his head to the side slowly. Sebastian's face is gorgeous with the way moonlight plays off the slanted planes of his face, submerging the right half in dark shadows and the left in glimmering beauty. When Sebastian sleeps he looks years younger than he actually is. He looks like the teenager he met all those years ago. But there is a little furrow between his eyebrows. Has that always been there? Did Ciel do that?

Ciel reaches out a small hand, intending on nudging his boyfriend awake. Sebastian used to urge him to wake him up if he needed company at night. They used to spend all night talking and cuddling, chasing away all of the nightmares that plague Ciel's nights. But lately, Ciel is too shy to wake Sebastian up. He doesn't know what has changed, but he feels bad. He feels like he should be able to handle things on his own. He hates having to depend on Sebastian, he feels like a burden. So he retracts his hand, cradling it close to his chest.

He's read so many articles on this emptiness he feels. Depression, they call it. But he doesn't trust webMD. Social anxiety, neurosis, all these words are going over his head. He's stopped reading these articles and shut them out of his life. They scare him. He knows they can't be real and that they don't really describe how he feels, but at the same time he's scared because what if they're true? Ciel hasn't talked about it with Sebastian, he feels like a freak for mentioning his obsessive, over-jealous feelings that well up in him for no reason sometimes. Sometimes he feels sick, but most of the time it's because he's sick of himself and he doesn't know how to get better.

During the day he's tired. Tired of life. Too unmotivated to do anything yet plagued by the guilty thoughts of needing to do something productive. It hurts his head. He takes some pills and sleeps them off for three hours. He can see Sebastian casting worried glances in his direction. He thinks of the way Sebastian sometimes opens his mouth to say something but closes it. Ciel pretends that he doesn't see any of this.

And now he's lying in bed awake, head swimming with thoughts that he didn't address during the day. They fill his mind intrusively, relishing in the fact that there are no distractions at night, forcing him to go over each thought in excruciating detail. Between the thoughts of resent and self disappointment, there are strands of free floating consciousness that whisper to him in wicked, dulcet tones. Things he would never consider doing in the light of day. His nail scratches over his stomach lightly. There are old cuts that have scabbed over and he picks at them gently, but not enough to break them open. He hasn't gone swimming with Sebastian for a long time now. He's too ashamed to.

Ciel turns on his side, away from Sebastian who is still very much asleep. The first of many tears slip over the bridge of his nose and he tries to sniff quietly as his eyes water over. He stares at the window full of silver moonlight, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. Curling into a tight ball under the covers, he silently shakes and soaks the sheets with tears. He doesn't know what to do anymore.

Minutes later or hours later, he doesn't know, he lifts his face from the pillow- sticky with dried tears. He realises that the pressure on his back is warm and a hand is slowly stroking his side. He turns over to see Sebastian's very much awake and anxious face looking at him.

"You were crying," He whispers, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry." Ciel whispers back shakily, vocal cords still a bit trembly. He strokes the moonlit side of Sebastian's face with a finger, but the show of affection doesn't convince Sebastian.

"Don't be sorry. Why didn't you wake me?"

"I'm sorry." He says it again. It's a reflex. He can't stop being sorry for everything.

There's a small beat of silence before they both laugh awkwardly. He's so broken. They're so broken. Ciel can't help but feel that he's breaking them and he's so, so sorry.

Sebastian wordlessly pulls Ciel toward him, cradling him to his chest. Tucking Ciel's head under his chin so that his face is pressed up against his neck. Their legs tangle together sharing some heat and Ciel lets out a shuddering sigh. The tears are back, but he has no idea why. All he can feel is Sebastian's strong arms around his body and he feels so relieved. There's still a heavy weight sitting on his chest and his head still hurts. But surrounded by Sebastian's heady, comforting scent, he finds himself forgetting about his burdens for a short while.

Sebastian rocks them together gently, as if he were preparing a child to go to sleep, and it works. The constant rocking motion is slowly lulling him to sleep, but he can't stop mumbling soundless apologies against Sebastian's neck. He feels fragile. He has always felt fragile, but somehow in Sebastian's arms, he feels for the first time that he is allowed to be fragile.

As he drifts off to sleep, he decides that he'll show Sebastian the scars on his stomach tomorrow.