A/N: This is a continuation of "To My Own Little Boy." This is what happens after Ciel receives that letter from the queen.

Chapter 1

Sebastian's POV:

As I stood by my master's side I idly wondered just how soaked a demon could get without drowning. Oh, we could not drown, but I felt that there was a first time for everything, especially when the circumstances one found oneself in were favorable to such an outcome. For the past week I'd spent a good portion of each day out in the rain, being rained on and getting soaked. If even I hated it, then my master must have absolutely loathed it, but he was so taken up with the case that there were times when I wondered if he even noticed it.

I doubted I'd seen the sun once in the week I'd been here. It was quite depressing after so much time under gray clouds and I found myself wishing for a change in the weather. Unfortunately, my weather sense told me that it would be raining and cloudy for at least another week.

Spending time out in the rain wasn't much better. My master and I prowled London in disguise as a dustman and his young nephew, looking for the missing children. A dustman did not carry an umbrella or a raincape or anything to fend off the onslaught from overhead. There were times when I was convinced I would have to start swimming through the streets, rather than walking.

Two hundred and eighty-five had gone missing and so far not a single clue had surfaced. We'd interviewed two hundred and eighty-five different families and we'd found no single link between them that could explain why those children had disappeared. I doubted very much that these disappearances were random, but we needed some sort of clue to help explain them.

"I can't believe this," my master said as he and I crouched in a doorway to get out of the rain. "With this many kidnappings there's bound to be some sort of clue, but we've come up with nothing! There has to be something that we're not seeing!"

"I'm sure there is," I agreed. We'd asked several families to go over the day of their child's disappearance and there didn't seem to be…wait a moment. "Young master, I've just realized something. Each family had had a disagreement with the child or they'd punished the child just before the child disappeared."

My master considered this. "So the children were all punished and in foul moods? That's not too helpful, Sebastian."

"What if the punishment was the reason each child was taken?"

I could see him thinking about this. I could see him considering the theory and examining it from different angles. "It's possible, but why that would be a reason to take a child…it doesn't make much sense."

"What if someone viewed it as abuse and wanted to protect the child?" I suggested.

"If that's true, then it puts this case into a whole new light," he said, sounding excited. "That would give us a likely motive that matches the circumstances."

"Indeed, young master."

I could see him thinking about this. "Let's return to the townhouse, Sebastian. I want to get out of this rain and examine the case files again. It's possible that you may have found our clue. Well done."

"Thank you, my lord."

It wasn't long before we were back at the house. A hot bath and a hot meal later my master seemed to feel much more like himself and was busy looking over the case files. I was busy with the laundry and other such chores. Agni and Prince Soma had returned to the townhouse with us and so Agni and I had Prince Soma to watch after as well, which was task enough for any man. The prince had matured a great deal lately, that was true, but he was still…well, there had to be a word for it.

"The earl seems quite involved with this case," Agni commented while he helped me with the laundry.

"He dislikes children being kidnapped," I explained. "He takes it a touch personally, I think."

"With his history, that doesn't surprise me," Agni said, quickly folding some sheets. "How long do you think the investigation will last?"

"Hard to say," I admitted. "Once we were investigating for the better part of a summer before we even had a break in the case, and on another case we managed to break and solve the case within a day. It always varies."

"Do you think this will be a long case or a short case?"

"Long," I said. "This one has all the signs. He'll be exhausted at the end of it, but my master will manage. He always does."

I hoped that I would not be proved wrong later. True, my master was a top-notch investigator and had a first-rate mind, but in many ways he was still a child. A child could not always do what an adult could no matter how determined he was.

"It's a pity these kidnappers don't come to kidnap Lord Ciel," Agni joked. "Then, you'd be able to find who's responsible right away."

"That would certainly make it easier," I admitted. "But I don't think I could stand to have my master kidnapped just for the sake of the case. My nerves wouldn't take it." It was true, too. I would be a nervous wreck the entire time he was with those kidnappers.

"Your nerves wouldn't take what?"

"Now, young master, what are you doing in the laundry room?" I asked, somewhat surprised as my master entered the room. He never came into the laundry room and he rarely came to the servants' areas of the house.

"I've been looking so long at those wretched case files that my head's spinning with names and dates," he said, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows. "I find it surprising that your nerves wouldn't take something, Sebastian. What couldn't they take?"

"Sebastian and I were chatting about the case and I joked that you would be able to find the culprits faster if they tried to kidnap you, Lord Ciel," Agni told him. "Sebastian said that his nerves couldn't take it." Agni paused and looked at my master carefully. "Lord Ciel?"

My master was staring off into space and his head was tilted in what I thought of as his "thinking" pose. "That might work," he said quietly.

"Oh, I was only joking!" Agni said quickly. "Really!"

"We've been investigating a week and we've come up with only one possible clue to the motive, but we know nothing about who might have done it or where the children are now," he said. "We're running out of time. I think it's time to try something a little more drastic."

Why did I foresee a headache coming from this? "How about something not quite so drastic, young master?" I suggested.

"What plan would you suggest that could be more efficient?" he demanded. "Right now, it's the best chance we have."

For the first time, I wanted to murder Agni for planting such an idea in the young master's head. "Young master…"

"Find us some suitable clothes, Sebastian," he ordered. "Say, the dustman and his nephew again. Tomorrow morning we'll go to the East End, wander about a while, you can pretend to punish me and hopefully, the kidnappers will make their move."

I stared at him, ready to panic. He was completely serious. "Yes, my lord. I shall to see to it at once."

We were back in the rain the next morning. My joy at such a wonderful and drizzly circumstance could not be contained. If my master felt the same way, then he did not say so. In fact, I think he concealed his enthusiasm for the weather quite well by grumbling about it.

"I'm starting to think that the rain clouds just wait for when we have to go and investigate the East End," he said at last. "It certainly feels that way."

"I'm inclined to agree with you, young master," I said as a drizzle of rain made its way down the back of my neck. I shuddered. I was not fond of cold and the fact that I was dressed in worn and patched garments didn't help. I missed my fine wool coat and waistcoat.

"Not 'young master;' I'm 'Stephen' for this investigation and you are my Uncle Lewis who likes gin too much," he whispered. "Keep that in mind!"

"Yes, Stephen," I said immediately. "Your gin-soaked 'Uncle Lewis' shall remember."

I almost didn't catch the eye-roll. Almost. Seeing him do that was so cute that I almost smiled.

"All right, then," he said, straightening his patched coat and pulling his cap on his head. "Let's go be a dustman and his nephew."

A dustman's job is simple: he carts away domestic refuse. There were thousands of them all over the city and I doubted very much that anyone would notice one more. My master and I traveled the more prosperous neighborhoods of the East End but then we entered the rougher neighborhoods. All through the day, I was terse and short with my "nephew" on his orders, and more than once I pretended to smack him across the face for being too slow. He and I had practiced that move several times. It looked as if I put some power behind my hand but in reality he was turning with the blow so that my fingers merely brushed his face. A brush of my fingers was still enough to give him a light bruise, though, but I had to do it on his orders. (I promised myself that I would make up a witch hazel compress for him as soon as we returned to the townhouse.)

The day dragged on. We loaded up our cart with refuse and hauled it away only to load it up again. I snarled and growled at my young master and pretended to strike him and he pretended to placate and cringe. It was getting close to evening and so far, we'd seen and heard nothing.

"This isn't working," he whispered to me as he helped me load the cart. "We have to do something more."

"What would you suggest?" I asked.

His hand slipped and an earthenware jug fell to the cobbles and broke. A regular dustman would hope he could sell that for a few pennies and a regular dustman would be furious at its being broken.

"This is an order," my master said quietly. "Give me a black eye."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this. My master was ordering me to actually hurt him? I was supposed to protect him! However, an order had been given and my fist lashed out, striking him in the eye so hard that he fell.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry, Uncle L-lewis!" he stammered, putting a hand over his now-injured eye. "I didn't mean to!"

"Yer more trouble than yer worth, boy!" I growled, keeping in character. Other people nearby had been watching, but as soon as I glared around the area they pretended to look away. One man, however, had not looked up once. Interesting. I knelt down and began to pull my "nephew" to his feet. "I think we've got someone's attention," I whispered.

"If he's our man, then let him take me and follow close behind," he ordered.

"On yer feet!" I snapped. "Come on! This load and we're done!"

My master scrambled to his feet and hurried to obey me, and I allowed myself to reflect for a moment on how pleasant that state of affairs was. If only he could be so tractable all the time...Ah, well. One could always dream.

We finished loading the cart and pulled it away to the place set aside for refuse in that area of London. By the time we got there I could tell that the long day of unaccustomed labor was beginning to wear on my master. I just knew he was thinking of a hot bath, a cup of tea and a good meal by the fire. If we managed to solve this case then he could return to those creature comforts that much sooner and I could tell that he was already wishing the case solved.

I shook off my introspection and felt a smile start. Someone was following us as we made our way through all of the East End's back alleys. Perfect. "Someone's following us," I whispered.

"Good to know," my master whispered back as we reached the dumping area. "You have your orders."

"Yes, my lord." I sneaked a look at his face and gave an inward wince. His eye looked terrible. I wished he hadn't given me that order.

We were just finishing unloading the cart when I heard the scuff of a shoe on stone and something came out of the shadows at us. My master screamed in fright and even I was a bit startled. That man had moved almost as fast as a demon! A quick examination of his scent, however, told me that he was human. A kick to my chest sent me sprawling like the drunkard I was supposed to be and I saw the man scoop up my master and run off with him.

Sometimes, the master's plans worked a little too well. If it hadn't been for the mark of our contract that allowed me to always locate my master, I would have lost them. I followed them through deserted alleys until they stopped at the corner of a street. The man was holding my master firmly in his arms and he had a handkerchief pressed over my master's face. Even from this distance I could catch the scent of chloroform. I saw my master's body go limp just as a carriage pulled up.

"Another one?" the driver said quietly. "Hurry up and get in!"

"Thanks, Charlie!" the kidnapper said, settling my master in the coach. "I doubt this boy would have lived if I'd left him where he was! The man he was with was using him like a punching bag!"

It was gratifying to hear that my theory about the motive behind the kidnappings had been correct, but really, had we had to find out in so dramatic a fashion!

The kidnapper go into the coach and it rattled away. I followed it silently, relying on my demon speed to keep up with hit. It made its way out of London, through the suburbs, and into the country. By this point it was close to midnight. In the open country there were fewer places for me to hide, so it was a challenge to keep following the coach while staying out of sight. I was relieved when the coach pulled up to the gate of a large house and rolled through. This place had to be a base of theirs. I approached the wall and went to swing myself up and over the wall and...

In the next moment, I was laying on the grass by the wall, still on the outside and gasping in pain. I had hit...something...but I had no idea what it was, how I'd hit it, or what had happened. I hadn't been in so much pain since Marcellus had put me in thrall. Remnants of it were still tingling along my nerves, making my limbs and face twitch.

Eventually, the pain died down and I was able to get to my feet. I examined the wall, but I could see nothing, feel nothing, indeed, there was nothing. How extraordinary. Still, I'd ended up in agony on the ground when I tried to jump over the wall. Curious, I tried it again, certain that this time...

This time was even worse. I was in so much pain that I couldn't keep myself from groaning out loud, but I tried to hush it as soon as possible. My muscles had a life of their own, jerking and twitching, sending little echoes of pain up and down my body. It took longer to fade than the first time and by the time I made it to my feet I was exhausted and aching. What on earth was going on with this wall? Why couldn't I go over it?

I focused on the link I had with my master and I felt relief course through me. He was all right, not hurt or afraid, but asleep and dreaming. Since I had no idea just how much time had passed or how long I'd spent on the ground in pain, it was fully plausible that his kidnappers had settled him in bed for the night. I smiled and let the link fade just as a wave of weariness passed through me. Whatever I'd hit had exhausted me so much that I was finding it hard to stay on my feet. I needed to sleep, myself.

Using the last vestiges of my strength, I found a comfortable-looking tree, climbed it, settled on a wide branch, and leaned back against the trunk. Once I was settled, it wasn't long before I slept. I knew that as soon as I was awake I would have to locate my master and get him out of that place, but for now, I'd done what I could. I'd followed him to where the kidnappers had taken him and I would be nearby. With that thought in mind, I let myself rest and dream.

Ciel's POV:

I was pleased that the plan was working so well after I ordered Sebastian to give me that black eye. The man who rushed us and snatched me up was clearly someone highly-trained, so I did nothing to make him suspicious. I made myself remain in character the whole time he carried me and I fought like a mad cat when he pressed that chloroform-soaked handkerchief over my face. It took effect, though, and I was dizzy and disoriented through the whole carriage ride. I actually slept for a little bit, but I woke up when we pulled up to the gates of what looked like a large house. When I stirred my kidnapper put a hand on my shoulder and I jerked away.

"Easy now," he said as the carriage rolled through the gates and up the drive. "It's all right, youngster."

"Who are you?" I demanded. "Where's Uncle Lewis?"

"He's not here," the man said in a soothing tone. "You don't have to worry."

I stared at him. "Worry? About what?"

"About him hurting you anymore," the man explained.

The carriage stopped in front of the house and he helped me from it. (I put up a token protest, of course, but he pretty much pulled me from the carriage and onto the drive.) I stared up at a hodgepodge monstrosity of a house for a moment before the man pulled me up the stairs and inside. In the front hall an old, genial, white-haired man sat behind a desk, working on something by lamplight. He looked up as we came in and smiled.

"Hello, Jim!" he said brightly. "You've brought one, I see! Where's he from?"

"The East End," my kidnapper told him. "Lived with his uncle. Dustman. Man reeked of gin and thought nothing about giving this poor boy a black eye."

"He didn't mean to!" I protested. "Uncle Lewis is actually really nice! He took me in when my father died and..."

The old man got up from his seat and guided me to a chair by his desk. "Sit down, sit down, my lad. Why don't you tell us all about yourself, hmm?"

I knew how to tell a good story. I told them my name was Stephen Browne that my parents had lived in one of the lower middle-class areas of London. My father had been a teacher in a day school and my mother had been a governess. (Giving myself that kind of background would explain the way I spoke since I didn't sound as if I'd come from the East End.) My mother had died several years ago and my father had died last year. Uncle Lewis had come to the funeral and took me home with him since the bank had taken the house. I hadn't known, you see, that my father had had a few debts until his creditors came calling after his death.

"Ah, you poor boy," the old man said, patting my shoulder. "That's so sad! Well, you don't have to worry about that uncle of yours hitting you anymore. You're with us, now."

"I don't understand," I said woefully. Any other child might have cried at that point, but I had a strong feeling that I would have trouble doing that. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"It's all right," the old man said, patting me. It took all my self-control not to jerk away. "Jim and I, we're part of a group called Sanctuary. It's part of our job to find children who are being abused and take them somewhere safe away from the people who are hurting them."

I paused and I thought about this. An East End boy would know of something similar..."Like the people from the parish? They came to talk to Uncle Lewis about me once, but he told them to leave." There was always a parish society who tried to watch after children and the elderly in each parish, so that would be something "Stephen" should know about.

"Something like that," Jim said.

"What about Uncle Lewis?"

"He won't find you here," the old man promised me.

I sniffed and my lip trembled. "But I want to go home!"

"Ah, poor lad," the old man said. "You'll come to feel that this place is home after a while and you won't be so scared anymore. I promise, no one will hurt you here or make you do things you don't want to do, and you'll always be clean and warm and well-fed. We promise you that."

"But...but..."

"Jim, this poor boy's practically asleep," the old man said, interrupting me. "He needs a bath, an exam, a hot meal and a warm bed. Would you like to see to that, or would you like me to?"

"I'll take care of it," Jim said, helping me to my feet. "Come on with me, Stephen."

I could remember from my captivity that I'd gone numb shortly after being taken, and that was easy to imitate. I pretended to be numb while Jim led me upstairs and into a well-appointed bathroom. Even though my skin was crawling due to a stranger touching me, I let him undress me and help me into the tub. All day long I'd sweated while I worked and dust and soot had stuck to me and dried, giving me a very filthy appearance. It was nice, after a day spent hauling trash, to get clean and relax in warm water. Jim helped me scrub top to toe with sage-scented soap and he even helped me wash my hair. Once I was clean he helped me out of the bath and dried me off with a soft, fluffy towel before dressing me in a long cotton nightshirt. I could tell that it had been laundered until it was soft and comfortable and I appreciated it after a day in rough clothes.

"There," Jim said. "Now for a visit to the doctor."

"Doctor?" I said, fighting off a wave of dizziness. That damned chloroform had given me one blazing headache and I was still dizzy from it and now it was past my usual time to retire. I wanted, more than anything else, to lay down in a soft bed.

"We have to make sure you're all right," Jim said, leading me out of the bathroom and down the hall. He ushered me into another room. It looked like a doctor's examination room, and before long the doctor arrived. They weighed me and measured my height, looked at my throat, my ears, my eyes, listened to my heart and lungs, poked and prodded my stomach, tested my reflexes and lifted my nightshirt to examine my spine.

"He looks to be in good shape aside from the bruises on his face and that black eye," the doctor said, wrapping me up in a robe and putting a pair of slippers on my feet. "Best not to let him get chilled, though, and he's a bit too thin for my liking. A few good meals out to make up for that in a few weeks. A witch hazel compress ought to get rid of that bruising and a cold compress on that eye will help ease any pain. I'll take care of both while you get him something to eat."

Jim led me down the kitchen, where there were still people working. Someone ladled a bowl full of beef stew for me and fetched me a few slices of bread. All day long my meals had been scanty and I fell to, more than happy to have such a hearty meal in front me. A boy who'd been living in the East End with a drunken uncle would have found good meals few and far between, so my behavior fit my persona. I was hungry enough for a second helping and some kind person brought me a cup of blueberry tea that had been sweetened with honey. I leaned back in my chair after swallowing the last of my tea, replete.

Dizziness struck again, my eyes closed and my muscles went limp. Damn! Something must have been in that tea to make me sleep!

"Easy, Stephen," I heard Jim say when I slid sideways in my chair. I felt him pick me up and carry me out of the kitchen and back upstairs. It took a few minutes before we reached our destination. It was slightly cool and quiet and I could smell clean linen.

"Jim?" someone-a boy-said sleepily. "Who's that?"

"His name's Stephen, and he'll be living here from now on," Jim answered quietly. "He's very tired, so let him sleep, all right?"

"All right," the boy said, and I heard him settle back down into his bed. A moment later I was tucked into my own bed...ah, someone had run a warming pan over the sheets...and I settled into soft and comfortable bliss. I fell into a doze and roused slightly when someone put a compress on my eye, but it wasn't long before sleep rose up, grasped me in its arms, and took me to oblivion.