Full Summary:

The relationship of the family amongst the first tiers in Noah's Arc Circus is on the rocks ever since Doll's death. Joker is spending more time at Father's and listening to his every word, Dagger has turned to alcohol to help cope with his grief, and Beast is afraid of what's about to happen to them all.

After an unfortunate event evolving Ciel Phantomhive, his aunt Angelina Durless, and her butler, Joker ends up meeting the same fate as his younger sister and is shortly followed by Beast. When Beast alerts Joker of Dagger's unusual behaviour as of late, Joker is determined not to let Dagger die as well and does something that neither Dagger or Beast would have ever expected…

Parings: Mainly Joker/Dagger, slight Joker/Beast and Ciel/Doll with mentions of Sebastian/Ciel.

Author's Note:

Hey guys! It's been like, what, a year since I last uploaded anything? Yeeeaahhh, I fail. Anyway, this is a story I'm working on and I swear I won't drop it like my other ones! I will work on it. I promise. Chapter one is in the works. Promise.

Anyway, it's based on a role play I've done with some friends. So yes, the sequence of things will be different but this will also be a tad different from the role play considering I didn't save anything and I'm writing it from memory~

Well, either way, I hope you enjoy!

OH! And I don't own Kuroshitsuji and its characters. Yana Toboso does. I just own this story.


Joker knew the family was falling apart. He could feel the tension among them hanging in the air within the first tier tents that particular chilly February night. He had known within days after Doll's Death that something was not right.

Dagger had taken up drinking to help cope with the grief of losing his little sister and had begun to spend time with the very child who had ordered her to be killed, Ciel Phantomhive. No one understood why he was. He often complained about the boy, saying that he was a selfish brat and that he had no right or reason to kill their sister. Yet, he spent quite a bit of time with the young Phantomhive master, regardless of if Ciel wanted his company or not.

Beast started to worry shortly thereafter about what would become of her brother and would often get upset when Joker would simply brush her off and tell her there was nothing to worry about. She had always had a bit of a temper though, so he didn't let it bother him.

He knew Beast had a reason to worry. He knew the Phantomhive child was up to something. He could tell by the way the boy would smirk, the way his aunt's butler would grin but say nothing more, and by the way the lady dressed in red would chuckle quietly on occasion. He knew there was a reason to worry, but he couldn't figure out what the Phantomhive heir was planning. The very thought lingered day in and day out at the front of his mind, often distracting him.

But, despite himself, he did nothing about it. He didn't even question the Undertaker, who he knew was close with Ciel, offered to give Doll a proper burial free of charge, Queen's money or otherwise. Joker had gratefully accepted Undertaker's proposal. It wasn't that the family couldn't afford it, the circus made enough money to get them by, but saving those few extra pennies would help them out and would be one less thing the struggling family would have to worry about.

When Joker began spending more time at Father's, Dagger and Beast had started to become rather disapproving. Joker was only trying to get Father -- who had, for some reason, started to hate Dagger over the years and became a careless, cold hearted man -- to see differently and for the others to realize that deep down, Father was still the man who had kindly taken them into his home years ago. His efforts had been less than successful thus far, but he was determined for them to return to being the happy family they had once been.

So, after buttoning his jacket tight around him and wrapping his thickly knitted scarf around his neck, he opened the flap and stepped out of his tent. The night was quiet and he assumed that most, if not all, of the Circus' members had already retired for the night. He took in the familiar smells of the Circus, the various incents, spices, and smoke, while watching his breath in front of him before weaving his way around the numerous tents.

The crunch of his shoes against the thin layer of snow covering the ground broke the unearthly silence. He was used to the Circus to be filled with laughter and music. At that moment however, the grounds seemed dead. That was, until, he heard footsteps similar to his own, though with a slight limp, behind him. Whoever it was, they were definitely female he concluded, as the tapping of their heels was much sharper than his own.

"You're leavin' us again." It wasn't a question, and the familiar voice struggling to hide its sadness only proved his guess of his follower being a woman.

Stopping in his tracks and turning just enough to see who was behind him, his bright violet eyes immediately met with sad red ones, almost hidden behind thick lashes and dark make-up. She had a wild mess of ebony curls framing her porcelain face -- the red flower that usually rested in the left side of her hair currently absent -- and thin eyebrows that were brought together in worry. Her arms were crossed tightly under her large chest, her body wrapped in a light beige jacket and her legs were covered in fishnet stockings as usual with her heeled boots.

"Go back t'bed, Beast," he said, his voice demanding but calm and quiet. He watched carefully as she took an almost timid step forward, her prosthetic left leg with the ball-joint knee shaking slightly with the weight change. He watched as her cherry painted lips pulled into a frown, obviously not pleased with him treating her as a child seeing as they were practically the same age.

"Joker," she said quietly, "you're goin' back t'Father, aren't you?" Joker remained silent, his gaze falling to the ground. It should be obvious, he thought, seeing as he rarely went anywhere else alone, especially at night, but it was a three day trip at the least and he wanted to get there as soon as possible. Beast eventually took Joker's silence as a yes and continued on, "You're needed here more than with him. Why go?"

"'E's our Father, Beast. 'E's sick an' you know that."

"Yeah," she growled, "he' sick in the head, Joker."

Joker's eyes narrowed into a glare. He was aware of how their father had been acting lately, what with how their younger brothers and sisters back at Father's had been treated over the past few months, but he was still their father. He was still the man who took them off the streets and cared for them as his own when no one else would.

"Don't talk 'bout Father that way," he said, his voice remaining stern. Her lips parted, as if to say something, but she quickly and wisely shut them. Joker was like an older brother, though they were in no way related. None of the Circus members were -- excluding Dagger and herself, and Peter and Wendy -- but they all considered each other as family, especially the first tiers. They all looked up to Joker. He was the natural leader of them all, he always had been. He was the Ring Leader of Noah's Ark Circus, though their father was the real boss behind it all.

Turning back around, Joker shook his burnt orange bangs away from his left eye and continued onward. "I'll be back in 'bout a week," he sighed, "it ain't like I'ma be gone fer long."

"What about Dagger?" she asked as she swiftly followed the taller man, "I can't get him t'stop drinkin', Joker! I'm afraid he'll get sick if he doesn't stop soon. It will start affectin' his health."

Joker stopped once he reached his horse that he had prepared earlier that night, taking a hold of its reins in his left hand. His eyes scanned over its chestnut coat in thought. Dagger, his little brother and best friend, and quite the trouble maker as it turned out. He let out a heavy sigh as he glanced over at the young woman.

"I already sent a letter t'Smile," He said, picturing the Phantomhive boy as he placed his right foot securely in the stirrup before lifting himself up and throwing his other leg around, "I tol' 'im 'bout Dagz's drinkin' problem an' ask'd that 'e make sure 'e don't drink too much."

Beast watched with a worried expression as Joker settled himself in the saddle, his horse giving a small toss of its head and a snort. She stepped forward, her hand running gently down its silky white muzzle. "Can you really trust Smile t'look after him? He killed Doll, Daniel... He could very well do the same t'Dagger." Joker froze for a moment at the sound of his name, his eyes seeming to stare blankly off into the distance.

"Dagger can look after 'imself. 'E's almost an' adult y'know. What would 'e be now, nineteen?" he asked after a moment as he brought himself back to the present.

Beast gave a small nod of her head, watching as Joker's horse bumped its nose against her pockets in an attempt to find a treat of some sort. "He's still my lil' brother," she said quietly, "and I don't trust Smile."

"I know, I know," Joker sighed, "but at th'moment there ain't much more I can do." Easing his horse foreword slightly, he paused beside Beast and lent down before pressing a kiss to her cold cheek. "Go back t'bed, Beast. Try t'warm up an' git some rest, 'kay?"

Beast watched as Joker left the grounds of the Circus, quickly blending into the shadows as the stomping of his horses hooves eventually faded out into the distance. She lifted a hand to her flushed cheek and let her cool fingertips brush against it for a moment before scowling and heading back towards her tent.


"I'm home, Father," Joker announced three days later as he stood in the dark room just in front of the door. He was bent over slightly in a bow, his right hand resting on the opposite side of his chest. He wore his regular clothes — minus his bow — with his jacket overtop, buttoned up neatly and leaving only two or three left open. A cloak was thrown on over top, a similar violet to his jacket. He had washed and re-styled his hair after the journey as well as re-applying his makeup.

On the far side of the room a few feet in front of him sat a man in a wheelchair. Behind him was a large window that allowed the moonlight to cast a large shadow of the man across the floor, ending about a foot away from Joker. It was hard to make out the shape of the older man's face due to the casted shadows but Joker knew nonetheless what it looked like. It was round and bald, bandages obscuring most of his face, only allowing his eyes and mouth to be shown.

He was surrounded by children, he noticed, no older than ten or eleven he guessed. Most of them were girls, dressed in maid-like uniforms with blank looks on their faces, tending to the Baron like he was their master. The number of them increased since his last visit as well by about two or three.

They often looked too well off and healthy when Joker first met these newer additions. He often wondered if his father had picked them up off the streets as abandoned children like he had with him and the others, or if he had obtained them by other means. He never asked though. If Father wanted him to know, he would tell him when he was ready.

"Joker, my boy!" he cried out in an almost rough voice, lifting his hands off this chair in a welcoming gesture, "Welcome home!"

Joker straightened up and forced a smile. "Thank you," his voice was wavering on a whisper. This place was nothing like a home should be, but Joker knew better than to argue and this was better than the streets he reminded himself.

"Come," the older man said, motioning for Joker to come closer as one of the young girls pushed him toward a seating area to his left "Tell me, how is everyone doing?"

"Not so good," Joker admitted with a small sigh, struggling slightly to use the proper English their father had thought them, as he placed his hands on his knees and sat down in front of his Father after following him across the room.

"Why would that be?"

"Doll died."

There was a long, almost tense silence between the two. Kelvin's face was blank, his eyes widened slightly. Joker was bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands laced together.

"When?" came the quiet reply moments later.

"About a week ago. She was at the Phantomhive manor with Smile an' someone got t'her with a chainsaw. We believe Smile was behind it all, we jus' don't know why."

The baron's expression changed slightly at the mention of the Phantomhive manor, but he struggled to look saddened by the news for his son's sake. "Poor Doll. She was such a sweet young lady too."

Joker said nothing. It was all a lie. His expression, his words... he didn't care that she was dead. He could tell. After all, the last time Joker had brought Doll to visit Father — a couple weeks before her death — he had slapped her right in the face. It was then that Joker had done something he had never done before; he stood up to his Father. He told his father that it had been wrong for him to slap Doll. She was still a child and a girl at that, but he wouldn't listen and Joker had left with Doll. He hadn't returned since.

"This… Smile," the Baron spoke, tearing Joker away from his thoughts, "what's he like?"

"He was a new member to th'circus," Joker explained, "he's 'kinda short with dark blue hair an' an eye patch over his right eye," the ring leader watched as the Baron's eyes began to widen, "a tall gentleman-type guy liked to follow him around."

"A boy and a butler?"

"Yeah."

"It's him," the Baron's voice spoke quietly; "it's the Earl, Ciel Phantomhive!"

"Yes, but –"

"Joker," the older man interrupted, his voice rough, "you know what you need to do. Gather the others and bring me the earl."

Joker's make-up lined eyes stared at his father before looking away. He didn't want to bring the poor kid to his father's; he never did, not with any of the children he had them kidnap. It was putting a strain on the family as well. But, Joker arose from his seat with a saddened smile and bowed respectively.

"Yes, father."