Chapter 5: Day 152
The plaque said 'D. U. Grea'. To Ciel, he looked like the Undertaker, although... his hair was combed back and well taken care of, with a long braided strand and a pair of glasses that made the look a bit cleaner, and there was a lovely lack of that hideous scar... Nonetheless, he knew what his mind meant for this to be.
Sebastian had walked in with him and spoken to the man before handing a clipboard over, and with a few curt nods the black haired smiled at him and left.
"Welcome back." the gray haired man smiled.
"...Do you find me amusing?" Ciel snapped. The smile on the mans face was already annoying him.
"Yes, actually, I do." Sebastian had warned him that Dorian U. Grea was 'a little off'.
"Aren't you supposed to be helping?"
"The question is: do you want help?"
Ciel stared at him in bewilderment. Did he want help? Personally, he didn't even think this was real. Why would he want help with something he didn't believe existed?
"No. Quite frankly, I believe you are all the ones who need help," he smiled slyly, leaning forward and planting his elbows on the edge of the desk.
"Of course, of course." The man's smile still continued to sit happily on his face as he picked up an ornament from his desk, inspecting it. Ciel wasn't sure if that was a real animal skull or not, but either way, watching the silver haired man playing with it like it was a puppet - it was disturbing to him.
"You're rejecting this reality in preference of your own. And who could blame you? From what I hear, your world is far more adventurous and glamorous than this! Our lives are rather short lived and boring. If I was in your position, I'd ignore me too!" he pet the cat skull as if it were still in the head of the lost animal.
"It's not a false reality!" Ciel shouted, standing and slamming his hands on the wooden desk.
"Of course. I said no such thing. How do we know reality from fantasy? When we dream, we do not remember our 'waking reality' more than 87.7 percent of the time, yet when we wake, it's rarer to remember our dreams; all of our dreams. We cannot control our 'dreams' nor our 'realities' too much, now can we? Who's to say my dream isn't reality -or yours- and that this is a dream?" the man chuckled deeply.
"Even so, maybe all our dreams are our own realities, and the bodies we have now are just our dream selves meeting across dimensions, worlds, or even time? How do we really know?"
It made Ciel shiver. What cruel thoughts to announce to a mental patient! But... What really scared him was that he was right. How would anyone know the difference?
"Y-You... You're horrible! Just horrible!"
"Would you like help now?"
The question stunned him. The man's glasses showed only the glare of the light around them. He couldn't see how he was looking at him.
The cat skull was being held against his chest comfortably as he smiled gently.
"Please sit back down, Mister Phantomhive."
His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the desk, but he calmed down as he forced himself to sit. Ciel was at loss here. Just the words this man said... he was transfixed.
"Now, close your eyes." Again, Ciel did as was asked of him.
"Clear your thoughts. Every hassle you've gone through today was a lie. A dream. Fall backward slowly, let your consciousnesses awaken. Don't worry about a single thing..."
Dorian U. Grea had continued talking, but the Phantomhive was unable to hear him as he slowly drifted off. A peaceful sleep... nothing to worry about...