Chapter Text
A week or so later I was lying on a sorry excuse of a mattress in West Outre. I remember it being humid, and waking up to the smell of bacon frying. There were only occasional shells firing somewhere off in the distance. I recall the sound of rain thudding on the roof. It was almost pleasant.
The most important thing was that someone was frying bacon, and I knew that sometime we would eat it and drink too-sweet mugs of tea to wash it all down. It became crucial to not look beyond the immediate present, beyond, in fact, the bacon.
“What about the horses today?” said Aberline.
One moment asleep, snoring away comfortably, and the next wide awake.
“Horses and bacon. What could be better?”
It was still too dark to see him but I could hear the movements he made on his mattress.
“No. Not a hope.”
“Why?”
“It’s a no, Aberline.” I reiterated, “Besides, you know perfectly well why.”
“I feel the need to ride, Ciel. My knees itch, and I absolutely refuse to be terrorised by that… by that… that… for God’s sake, look at all the others who go off galloping.”
“But Aberline, he said that -”
“It’s all arranged anyway. Sebastian is game, so a fig for your objections, Ciel.”
I tried not to groan aloud as I heaved myself up and lit the lamp and started on my daily examination of the painful chilblains. The M.O had given me a white power with which to dust them, in an effort to dry up the irritating sores. The powder improved them a little during the days out from the trenches, but they were far from cured, and drove me mad with their itching.
“Well, Aberline, just because you happen to have it arranged does not mean I have to go along with it.”
I began unwinding the first bandage, hearing no answer. The bandage was stuck in places on my leg and I had to tug to get it off, which only opened up the healing sores. I wanted to cry because of the fact that I was inflicting these stabs of pain on myself.
“I guess I will though.” I muttered, wincing at the sores.
“Yes.” he replied, not sounding surprised.
“I mean, only if you think we can get away with, yes?”
“But of course, Ciel.”
He clambered from his flea bag fully clothed apart from his boots and jacket. He clasped his hands together, cracking each finger joint in turn. It made me feel ill.
“I find that it’s hard for me to break the rules.”
I put the old bandage down on the mattress beside me and looked to my kitbag for the white powder.
“For God’s sake. Bloody rules.” he repeated with contempt.
I shook the little tin of power until a dusting of white coated my leg. From the top of my calf to my ankle pus and blood glistened off the lamp light.
“You know, I should just cut it off for you.” he offered, “Then they might send you home.”
“Give it a rest.”
The door opened and an orderly stepped in with a steaming jug of water.
“Good morning to you both.” he greeted us as jovially as he could muster.
“Good morning to you.” Aberline replied back, “Yes, in the basin, there’s a good chap. Well, not very generous, are you? Make sure to leave some in the jug for the teeth. I feel like polishing them up today.”
“Of course, sir.”
The orderly poured the water into the small metal bowl and placed the jug down beside the table, saluted and left. Aberline made his way over to the basin, grimacing as he looked over the rim of the bowl.
“It’s just like being back at school, but at least the water is warm here I suppose. None of that cold splashing, windows wide open, smile, it is good for you. That’s where you missed out, Ciel. At school one learns a healthy disrespect for authority, and not much else. But you, your head is stuffed with books, and what is that worth out here?”
He lathered soap over his face and what was visible of his neck, and then he rubbed against his skin with his strong thin fingers.
“Nothing but clean. I shall be clean. I shall, I shall.”
It was an incantation he would utter to himself every morning.
He bent over and stared at his own face in the dirty mirror that the orderly had attached to the wall for us, allowing me a view of my bloodshot eyes, similar to the eyes of everyone for miles around.
I sit, wonder whether to replace the bandage, which was quite hideous to gaze upon at this point, or use a precious clean one. I decided to wait until after I had eaten.
“These bloody gums, always bleeding. Back in the day we used to stand in a row at school. Scrub, scrub, spit, spat. Who wouldn’t have bleeding gums after that? That’s another thing you have missed out on.”
“Looks like I’ll learn it all from you, if you’re spared.”
He barked a laugh, “A teacher of chaos to a gentle conservative.”
I looked away, feeling my cheeks grow hot.
“I’m not… That’s not…”
He laughed again.
“You’re telling me you never looked down upon the oh so poor classes?”
My cheeks felt like they had been scalded.
“No… no I never.”
He blotted his face with the grey rag we used as a towel and let it fall to the floor where the orderly would surely pick it up later in the day. He came back over to me, placing his hand upon my head, almost a caress.
“I never expected to admire gentleness in a man, Ciel.” he said, letting his hand fall to his side, “Please don’t misunderstand me in any way.”
Gently I reached up and adjusted the flame in the lamp. He stood still beside me. I looked down to the gold band he wore on his ring finger.
“Don’t misjudge me.” he repeated quietly.
With that he moved abruptly away from me. Just a step. I glanced upwards, spying the slight smile on his face. I said nothing, purely because I did not know what to say.
Just like that, the moment was broken.
He searched his pocket, plucking out a fine comb from its depths. He tripped over his fleabag on the way back to the mirror. Righting himself, he bent his knees to properly look at his reflection.
“I would guess that such things would not normally be said. But then again, these are not normal circumstances, are they? Don’t feel like you must react in any way. I’m thinking that I might grow a moustache. What say you?”
I sat still, left with the confusion in my mind that perhaps he had thought more than he had said. Perhaps he was trying to undermine me? Or perhaps he was merely making a simple statement of familial affection to which I was entirely unable to react. I had only ever really had Sebastian…
In the life that I had always known, impulsiveness and warmth were unknown, seen almost as dangerous. That which went against the order of things.
I powdered my leg carefully.
“It would suit me, don’t you think?” he asked, “Ciel?”
“Ah… yes, it would.”
“You know, that drooping Victorian variety. How about that?”
“Splendid.” I answered.
He stopped running the comb through his hair, looking back over his shoulder.
“Have I annoyed you?”
“No.”
“That’s a pity.”
I decided that I would replace the horrid bandages after all.
“So you will come with us, yes?”
“I said I would.”
“You did indeed. Where the hell is that bacon? The smell of it will drive me insane.”