[Pitiful indeed. Sebastian doesn't even seem to notice the small, weak hand pushing him. Ciel's cries, his struggling... they're met with no sympathy or even pause. The shadows, unrelenting, continue to climb higher. Ciel's feet are stuck in place now, he can't let go of the gun even if he'd want to; both it and his gun hand are swallowed up by darkness. Other shadows crawl up his other arm, over his hand, ceasing his attempts at pushing Sebastian away.
Sebastian towers over him, reaching out to grasp Ciel's jaw.]
The home you so pathetically cling to? It does not exist. You can pretend - infinitely, if you so please - but it will change nothing.