The Boy [mxb]

24

The security camera shows Ciel simply...leaving. Just walking out of the house, out of my life, without a backwards glance or a note or anything. And still I stay up tonight, half-expecting Ciel to come home out of breath and make some excuse involving chocolate. But it feels like an eternity in the eerie stretch of silence. The house is too clean, too dark, too quiet as I pad slowly across the linoleum to the kitchen island.

Nougat yips and clambers after me, nails clicking on the flooring. Absently, I think about getting them clipped.

"Hey, boy," I murmur, scratching the puppy's head. "It's just you and me now, buddy." He snuggles into my hands, tail wagging, whining for attention. When I turn away to get him some kibble, he digs his nails into my sweatpants and makes another valiant attempt at crawling up the column of my leg. "Hey. You're not a cat." Scooping him up, I kiss and nuzzle his furry head.

Hurry up, he seems to be urging me. Nougat peers up at me with wide, limpid eyes, nose twitching, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Hurry up! Stop dilly-dallying, hooman, or I will bite your eyes out.

I dole out the dog food and curl up on the floor with the puppy, feeding him out of my hands. He's excitable and chipper, but I'm unable to reciprocate, finding myself completely drained of energy. Glum. Despondent. Weak.

After I put Nougat to bed, I sit alone in the kitchen, only the overhead light on, cradling the bottle of bourbon I bought on my way home.

I'm utterly crushed. I've had a target on my back for months now, had to watch my six at every turn, knowing that someone who knows where I live wants me dead, but Ciel - Ciel, of all people - dealt the final death blow.

I didn't expect it to go down this way.

Well, fuck me, I guess. I thought I was helping him. Sparing him from years of cold and cowing, taking shelter wherever he can, begging for a piddling, starving...

But really, he was helping me. Now I'm directionless without him. Sitting inside my house alone, staring into my glass with a listless expression.

The sound of my front door unlocking and slamming has me sitting bolt upright.

"So, I cleared the homeless shelters; he's not..." Ken walks into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway with a crestfallen expression. "Oh, hell naw! I feel like I just caught Superman sneaking out of my mom's room. This is just wrong, Beast."

He snatches the glass from my hands. "You don't drink alcohol!"

Ken narrows his eyes at me in suspicion, as if to ask where Beast is and what I've done with him. "Wednesday night is taco night at Rikers Island. Which fictional cop said that? Will Smith in Bad Boys? Channing Tatum in 21 Jump street? Ice Cub in Ride Along? Christopher Meloni in Law and Order? Or the Rock in The Other Guys?"

I look up with a haggard expression that is honestly the best I can muster.

"Another little kid I couldn't save is dead, Tony was shot, my boy left me, someone wants me dead and that's fine 'cause I honestly don't see the point of anything anymore... so I'm just gonna sit here and drink this bottle, Kenneth."

I hold my hand out but Ken won't give it over, takes the bottle too. He walks over to the sink and I sigh, cradling my head in my hands while he pours the contents of the bottle down the drain.

A muscle leaps in my painfully rigid jaw. "He should have gone to live with you," I mutter stonily. "Then this wouldn't've happened."

I never stopped being a cop. It was too much for him, too much for anyone. I never let him have any fun. I let my strict beliefs get in the way of his ability to live. I tried to establish limits, set rules, provide a role model, because in my experience, homes where those don't exist always devolve into disaster. Because I cared. But maybe I was too rigid, dogmatic, domineering, and he resented me for it. How fucking pathetic that he thought being homeless was better than another day under my roof. Can I even blame him? Who could actually bear to live with my hardass everyday? Yeah, I've got good looks, a nice build. But if they actually knew me, saw who I was, could anyone really accept me?