It was cold.
Sebastian was still.
If he didn't know otherwise,
he'd say the Demon was dead.
But he'd checked his reflection in the frigid water.
The Contract-mark was still there.
Demons don't need sleep.
They sleep to heal.
Sebastian had been badly wounded.
He'd need to sleep for a while.
He'd earned it.

The zombies were gone.
On both the ship
and the boat
Sebastian had fought them off
to the butler's detriment.

He'd given the Earl his overcoat.
His undershirt red with blood.
Ciel tried not to look at the wound
which tore his servant almost in two.

It was only for the Contract,
he told himself.
Sebastian had merely been
fighting for his meal.
But could that explain
the panic on his face?
When he saw Ciel
being flung through the air?
He'd look terrified,
like he'd actually felt fear.

Then the Undertaker,
traitor that he was,
had torn him askew.

Blood had sprayed.
Ciel had screamed
his servant's name.
Sebastian had gasped
in pain
and in fear,
as the Earl had flown beyond his reach.

But against everything,
he'd saved him.
Stretched himself
despite the pain,
and caught the child's hands
in his own.

Twisting in the air,
he'd taken the impact.
The pain knocking him
out.

The child had been stunned
and turned to face him,
gasping out his name
the one that he'd gave him.

The butler had
groaned and shifted
telling the Earl
that he could hear him.

Despite the pain,
he'd stood and fought,
the Grim Reapers,
some good, one not.

The Reapers had
grinned,
and laughed,
and joked,
feeling the Demon
hadn't a chance
in Hell.

But still the Demon
at his Master's order,
had proceeded to
take one out with the other.
A punch, a kick,
with gravity's blessing
had attacked the Reaper
leaving the other one guessing.
The Reaper had
been flung and
had fallen,
taking out the other
before he could dodge him.

That done,
the Demon had
turned to the last
Shinigami, mad
as always,
the Reaper had laughed
finding the plight
of his lessors
funny, quite.

Pulling out his weapon,
he'd prepared to kill
the Demon upon him.
But the boat had shifted,
turning this way,
and that,
in the oceans' sway,
it threatened to buckle.

The Shinigami,
turning to flee,
dropped something
that the Earl caught.
In shock,
he turned to the Earl
and grinned,
telling him to keep it safe.

The Demon,
close on his heels,
grabbed up the Earl,
and kicked up his heels.
Dodging falling
corpses and debris,
the Earl calling,
his Demons name.
They'd survived
Angels, Demons,
Reapers and Madmen,
and more.
Could they be felled
by something as simple as
a tragedy at sea?

The Demon swore, no.
Despite the wound,
refusing to heal,
he told the Earl so.
Leaping this way
and that,
he reached the keel.

The boat creaked
and groaned,
shifted,
and moaned,
threatening to give
beneath the Demon's
smartly clad feet.

Grabbing a life buoy
he told the Earl
to hold his breath
before throwing him
away from his death.
The Earl falls,
plummets without
a scream.
Seeing his Demon
silhouetted against the
fracturing boat.

Beneath the water,
he sank,
losing his grip
on the buoy.
The Demon leaped
cutting through the water
saving the Earl,
from a death after the slaughter.
Hauling him up,
onto a boat.
Seeing the child shiver
he gave him his coat.

Getting in the boat hurt,
and he checked on his wound,
seeing that it had yet to heal.
An oddity,
as he was a Demon.
But a Grim Reapers scythe
can kill even them.
He'd been lucky,
that Undertaker hadn't
hit him ever so slightly
higher,
where his soul sat
at rest,
ready to be harvested
at a Reaper's behest.

He was so tired,
his eyelids were heavy,
the wound stung,
with each breath he
didn't need.
But the Demon
couldn't yet rest.

Seeking his Young
Master's soul,
the zombies arose,
each moaning like a ghoul.
Struggling to his feet,
the Demon grabbed
the paddle and,
prepared to fight.

The Master crouched down,
staying out of the way,
as the Demon fought,
and the boat began to sway.

One after the other,
the zombies all fell,
as the Demon fought,
and his eyes
glowed with hellfire.

By the time he was done,
the zombies no more,
the sun was rising,
on a brand new day.

From afar, a boat
sounded its horn,
as Sebastian
dropped the paddle
and fell to his knees.

Turning to him,
red meeting blue,
the Earl told the Demon,
he had earned a rest.
The Demon was stunned
his Master wasn't kind,
but simply bowed his head,
and bantered back.

As the people aboard the boat,
panicked over his butler,
hurrying to the makeshift
sick-ward,
Ciel turned to greet
what family he had left.
In the corner of his eye
he saw his butler,
being loaded onto a stretcher,
nurses rushing about.

For the first time,
in seemingly forever,
the Earl felt
guilt.