De Morte ad Vitam

An Undertaker/Vincent RP (Co-writer: Stickiebun)

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. We make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1

~xox~

Years passed by after that night fate reared its ugly head and stole away the lives of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Ciel had returned as Undertaker had hoped; however, the young ten-year-old had returned in possession of a demonic contract. Said demon at his side posed as his butler, who took care of every little struggle the boy would face when he took over his father's legacy.

Little innocent Ciel...his heart turned cold; his destiny: a demon's stomach. But there was nothing Undertaker could do about it. Ciel was alive; and safe as long as his contract wasn't completed.

Undertaker had begun research and experiments pertaining to bringing back the dead. His 'Bizarre Dolls', as he named them. His research was funded by a rather twisted viscount who had his own dreams of using the dolls as weapons of power. But Undertaker had only one ultimate goal when it came to his Dolls.

One very special doll.

And he wouldn't stop until he got it...no matter the cost.

~xox~

It's a strange twist of fate, that the son of my dear mortal lover should hold in his small hands the very locket that houses his father's cinematic records. After the conflict aboard the Campania and my subsequent failure to rid the boy of his demonic guardian, I should have sought out Ciel Phantomhive and liberated my belt of treasures from him. However, I feel it will be safe in his hands for some time. Ciel is far too determined to discover the "how's" and "why's" of everything—a thing which hasn't changed much since he was an ankle biter. He'll hold onto my locket collection and he'll try to glean clues about me from it. I'm content with that. Ciel will unwittingly keep his father's very soul safe for me, until my work is perfected and the time comes to retrieve it.

I must keep a low profile...or at least as low a profile as my work will allow. Dispatch is now aware of my experiments, and they will try to intervene, if they can. I'll reap them all like wheat if I have to. I'm close...so close to perfecting my efforts. The school boy was able to speak on his own. He demonstrated the first hint of true sentience I've seen in a dollie, since I began making them. I must build off that; take what I did to enable that and improve it. One day, I'll be able to bring a dollie to life with complete awareness, with its old personality and most—if not all—of its memories from before death. When I can do this, I know I'll be ready for my crowning achievement...and I'll have my beloved back.

-The Retired Reaper

~xox~

"My grim little bird!" A dramatic voice interrupted Undertaker as he wrote in his journal, "I've just heard what happened at my dear Nephew's school. Your work—it was interrupted?" The Viscount Druitt, dressed in all white as usual, asked, twirling into the room.

The Undertaker glanced up from his journal, absently marking his place before shutting and locking it. "Only temporarily, Lord Druitt. Just a minor setback."

He pocketed the journal and stood up, approaching the flamboyant blond man with barely a whisper of sound. The smile that stretched his lips wasn't quite friendly. "And on the subject of winged creatures, I'm more akin to a bat than a bird."

The man shivered. "I don't like bats." he shook his head, "I simply wanted to know if my investment is still a good one. Word of your little Dolls is starting to spread." He draped himself over a plush leather chair. "I heard you got one or two to talk?"

The mortician nodded. "Indeed, my lord. Sadly, I had to leave him behind on account of a meddlesome young Earl and his butler. I do recall exactly what I did to enable the power of speech, however. I intend to build on that and see how far I can take it with the next subjects."

He took a seat on the sofa across from the Viscount and he crossed his legs, relaxing in the cushy, expensive piece of furniture. He watched the diabolical yet oddly charming mortal with quiet amusement. Druitt could wear on the nerves with his chatter at times, but for the most part he was entertaining. "When do you expect the next delivery to arrive for the laboratory?"

"Tonight. I pulled some strings after you left Weston. So, How far are you trying to take all this? It's all already quite impressive, even without speech."

The Undertaker tapped his nails slowly on the arm of the sofa. "As far as I can, friend; until I'm convinced I can go no further."

~xox~

With a loud groan, a young blond reaper stretched and stood up. "Too much overtime lately..." With a sigh, he scooped up a pile of paperwork for the investigation he was working on. He turned and walked down the hall to his Boss's office. A silver nameplate on the door reading "William T. Spears. Dispatch Supervisor".

He knocked on the door and opened it, "Sir? I updated all the reports."

William glanced up from his paperwork, and he nodded at the organizer box on his desk. "Put them in the 'to be filed' slot, if you please. I shall review them when I've finished this stack from Sutcliff."

He sighed as he said the name of their redheaded colleague. Grell found numerous ways throughout the day to find his last nerve and jump on it repeatedly. It didn't help that he'd suggested William prod him with his pole for added incentive to perform better...and right in front of a district manager, too. While Ronald's addiction to partying could be troublesome, it was nowhere near as problematic as his mentor's endless quirks.

William's thoughts immediately went to the night he'd pulled them both out of the ocean, after the luxury liner sank. He looked up at the approaching young man as Ron put the stack of reports in the requested slot, and he wondered at the peculiar feeling of relief he'd felt when he got confirmation that he was still alive. The boy looked tired. William had to give him credit; he'd been trying extra hard to garnish his favor since the disaster aboard the ship. Grell, on the other hand, remained unrepentant for his failure to bring the situation under control.

"Take the rest of the afternoon off, Knox," instructed William, his refined features aloof and unreadable.

"Really?" Ron looked up at William. It was unheard of to be able to leave work early-especially junior reapers like him. "I can go home early?"

Normally he'd be excited and would rush out and to one of his favorite pubs, but he was tired. maybe he'd take a nap before going out to enjoy his evening.

William was faintly surprised by his own generosity as well, but he didn't allow it to show in his expression. "You're clearly exhausted, and an exhausted reaper makes mistakes that this organization cannot afford. Please keep it in mind that I'm making an exception this time because you've completed your work for the day and I want you sharp and alert for the Undertaker case. If I find you've used this time off to party rather than get the rest you so clearly need, there will be consequences."

He said the last in a chill voice that left little doubt those consequences would include more overtime and fewer breaks on the clock.

"Drinking while exhausted would just make me pass out anyway. There is no point in it. Don't have any dates planned, either." Ron reassured his boss. "Thank you, sir."

William inclined his head gracefully. "You may go, Knox. Enjoy your respite and be sure to arrive on time for work, tomorrow."

He returned his attention to his paperwork, dismissing the younger reaper. From his peripheral vision, he saw Ronald scratch his head before heading out the door. William glanced up just as the blond disappeared behind it, and he again pondered his own generosity. Yes, Ronald had endearing qualities about him, but the same could be said of many reapers. It wasn't like William T. Spears to cut anyone slack, and he blamed it on his own exhaustion. Since the Campania, the organization had been in a scramble to locate the rogue deserter and bring him into custody before he could meddle further with the natural order of life and death.

William sighed and propped a chin in one hand. He'd always respected the Undertaker...even looked up to him. He'd heard stories of the sort of reaper he'd once been, and he'd always aspired to earn such a shining reputation himself. Now he was forced to track down the ancient so that he could answer for his crimes.

Were he not so rigidly invested in following the rules, William might have considered imbibing in some alcohol himself. This was going to be a long investigation.

"William~ Darling, I just saw Ronnie-boy leave early." Grell announced, sweeping into the quiet office in a flurry of red, soon draping himself over William's shoulders, his long red hair falling all around the younger man.

"Are you in a good mood for once? If Ronnie can go party early, I want to go see Sebby! It's been so long since I've gotten to gaze into his lovely red eyes."

William suppressed a groan, and he shrugged the redhead off of him irritably. "Fraternize with demon filth on your own time, Sutcliff. Unlike you, Ronald Knox had performed his duties in a timely manner and has worn himself thin doing so." He glared frigid daggers of green and gold at Grell. "He is being granted earl leave today so that he may rest up; not to find a party. If you desire an early day, then you must demonstrate to me the same devotion to your job as he has. Now, get out of my office and return to work."

"But I actually have news for you because I was working!" Grell pouted, slipping around and sitting in Will's lap, leaning in to whisper into his ear, "Unnie was spotted recently, darling, Posing as a principal of a public school and turning students into his Dolls~" He nibbled on the man's earlobe with expert care not to bite it off with his sharp teeth.

William got up abruptly, dumping the hapless redhead onto his rump on the floor. "Which school, Grell Sutcliff?"

"Weston Public school for boys~" He giggled, "Apparently Sebby and the brat was there at the same time." He stood up and leaned into William, "Darling, you need to learn to warn a lady before you get up."

William pondered the matter, ignoring the flirtation he had become so used to from Grell. He could send the outrageous crimson reaper to question Earl Phantomhive and his butler about it, but he suspected he would spend more time fawning over the demon than attempting to get answers, if left on his own. Ronald was already gone for the day, Alan was in the medical ward getting treatments for his condition, and Eric was with him. That left only himself to accompany Grell on this endeavor. How troublesome.

"Prepare to leave for the Phantomhive estate," instructed William. "You and I will approach the Earl and his butler and take down their statements of what occurred."

He looked at Grell suspiciously. "How did you get this information to begin with?"

"Darling, not all handsome men push me away. Some are actually nice to me and some happen to have connections~ Or more in this case; a son who got expelled because of the incident. He never mentioned Unnie, just said 'The Principal was this crazy guy with long silver hair and a wide smile'. Not too hard to know it's Unnie."

"Would you please stop referring to him with pet names?" A faint scowl made its way onto his lips. "It's entirely inappropriate. As for what you do with men who allegedly don't push you away, do me the courtesy of keeping it to yourself."

He walked over to the window and he adjusted his glasses with the end of his scythe, looking out over the reaper city. "Is there any other evidence to support your supposition that this principal is indeed the Undertaker? There have been humans to fit such a vague description, you know...however unlikely the coincidence may be."

"He mentioned a dead student actually biting his son, darling. Tell me that isn't a Bizarre Doll! It has to have been Unnie!"

William raised an intrigued brow. "I want a full report of the details as you heard them, Sutcliff. If you haven't already done so, fill it out now. As soon as you've completed that, we'll pay a visit to the Phantomhive estate and afterwards, this 'Weston' boys' school. I want the name of this man, his son and any information we can get that might lead us to the Undertaker."

"Thought you'd say that." Grell reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled paper, "Here's your report, darling."

William took the paper briskly and made an annoyed sound at its condition. "Really, Sutcliff...I can see that we need to invest in a refresher course for you on how to properly file a report. You've been slacking off...again."

He adjusted his glasses once more, and he read over the document. When he finished, he folded the paper and pocketed it to be filed away later.

"Hmm." He turned to regard the redhead again, his features aloof and dignified despite the vague sense of excitement he felt. "Well then, let's pay a visit to the Earl, shall we?"

"It's a date~" Grell giggled, slipping his arm through William's. "And give a girl her credit! It's hard not to wrinkle paper in a pocket! I filled out the paper like you'd want it without you telling me too, first!"

William smoothly withdrew his arm from Grell's hold. "Quite. I would appreciate it if you would keep your hands to yourself and conduct yourself as a professional in this endeavor, Grell. In fact, I expect you to allow me to do the talking. It's no secret that the Phantomhive boy dislikes you as much as you dislike him."

Grell rolled his eyes, "I don't go there for the brat, anyway. Come along! No dodling! I want to be able to enjoy this as much as possible~" Grell grabbed the younger reaper's hand and pulled him down the hall and into the lift, hitting the main floor button with his hip.

~xox~

Ciel was working on his studies when his butler joined him in the library to inform him that they had two reaper visitors. The boy put aside his economics book and frowned up at him from his seat on the wingback chair. "What do they want?"

"They did not say, my Lord. But if I were to guess, I'd say it is likely about our last encounter with the Undertaker." The handsome butler said, placing the used books back upon the shelves. "Shall I see them in?"

Ciel sipped his tea and set it aside. "Yes. I'm curious as to what they could possibly want with me. Just be on your guard, Sebastian."

"Of course." The butler bowed and disappeared, returning shortly with the young earl's 'guests', the red one hanging off him in attempt at stealing a kiss, much to his annoyance.

"Awe, come on, Sebby-darling~ Why must you be so cold?" Grell pouted.

Ciel scowled at the annoying crimson reaper. "Stop that. Keep your fool antics away from my butler." He looked at William Spears. "What is this about, Mr. Spears?"

William adjusted his glasses with his scythe and he gracefully took a seat on a nearby lounger. "I apologize for my companion's behavior." He nonchalantly popped Grell on the head with his scythe, stunning him and distracting his amorous attentions to Sebastian. "We have come to hear your account of what occurred at the boys' school you attended, Earl. As we understand it, the principle matched the description of the Undertaker."

Ciel nodded gracefully. "Quite right."

"Did he allude to you any of his plans?" queried the reaper.

Ciel glanced at Sebastian, silently warning him not to give anything away. He shrugged elegantly. "He is a madman. He does as he chooses; regardless of any societal expectations. He certainly didn't inform us of his next move; else we would already be going after him. Don't you Shinigami have ways of tracking your own kind?"

William bowed his head, and he smacked Grell's hand when it began to inch toward Sebastian again. "We do, but the Undertaker has learned to elude such measures. That is why we came to you, Earl. I would appreciate it if you would share with us the details of your last encounter with the fugitive."

Ciel shared a smirk with Sebastian. "And what's in it for me?"

"The satisfaction of taking down someone who betrayed you, as well as the gratitude of the Reaper establishment."

Ciel pondered the offer, his blue gaze dropping to the book in his hands. "I would like to think on it," he murmured. Looking up at his butler, he kept his features blank. "Show our guests out, Sebastian. I will contact them with my answer once I've thought it over."

"Sorry, sweetie. Not happening." Grell giggled. This was where his lusts came in handy. William would likely leave it there, likely making the whole trip a waste of time.

"I'm not leaving until we know what you know. Don't worry, I'll keep Sebby company the entire time~" He hopped up, embracing the demon with both arms and legs, holding him tight and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek, leaving behind bright red lipstick kiss mark.

"Sutcliff. Remove yourself." The butler said flatly.

"Nope~"

William groaned inwardly and deftly stepped aside as the demon butler's eyes lit up from within.

"Oh Bassy, why do you still deny the heat between us?" Grell demanded passionately. "There is no shame in our love!"

Ciel stared coldly at the crimson reaper. "Sebastian, you have my permission to employ violence, if you must."

"Darling, that'd only excite me~ Ah~ Ignite the fire of our passion~" Grell chirped.

William took another prudent step back as the butler's gloved hand closed around Grell's throat.

"Then I suppose you'll enjoy this quite a bit," said Sebastian; and then he peeled the redhead off of his tall form and threw him like a rag doll across the dining hall. Grell crashed into the wall with a shout of protest—or was it delight? Sebastian smoothed his suit and began his advance upon the stunned reaper, a cruel little smirk adorning his mouth. "As I recall, you can be quite the screamer, Mr. Sutcliff. I must admit I rather enjoy the sound of your pain."

Realizing this could turn into a full-fledged brawl if he didn't put a stop to it, William sighed and extended his death scythe, blocking Sebastian's way with the pole. "Pardon me," he announced politely when the demon paused and looked at him, "but we did not come here for a fight; regardless of my associate's behavior. Grell Sutcliff, do pick yourself up and come along. The board will not be pleased if word reaches them that you sabotaged a peaceful mission with your loathsome advances."

"But Will!" Grell hopped up, "Things were just getting interesting!"

"Indeed, I was about to rid the world of an annoying pest." Sebastian stated. "Take him with you, but please leave him behind next time you choose to call."

"I'll keep that in mind," said William coolly. He gave a cordial bow to Ciel. "We shall await your correspondence, Earl. I would advise you not to wait too terribly long to contact me, if you do happen to have information that could lead to the fugitive. Time is of the essence."

Ciel inclined his head calmly in acknowledgment. "I will consider that. Sebastian, show our guests out."

"It's no fun visiting my darling Sebby with you tagging along, Will!" Grell complained loudly as they were shown out.

"I suspect it would be a short visit, without me to keep you in check," sighed William. It had been a mistake to bring Grell along; he saw that now. Hopefully the boy would overlook his crass behavior and have the sense to cooperate.

~xox~

He held out a pallid, nearly colorless hand to the blindfolded young woman, his mouth stretched into a wide, toothy grin. She reached out instinctively for the hand, knowing her master immediately. He helped her rise stiffly from the coffin and he supported her as she stepped out of it on shaky legs.

He bent over her to murmur into her ear as his companion watched. "Now, my dear; tell me who you are."

Her face grew tense as she struggled to comply with his order. "I…I…I…"

The Undertaker's eyes flashed beneath his long, silver bangs, and his grin changed from anticipation to excitement. She had self-awareness. None of the other dollies before her had any concept of 'I' or 'me'. The boy from the school was the closest he'd ever come to bringing a body back to life with a concept of what it had been before death.

"Take your time, love," he encouraged. He stroked her tangled brown hair back from her waxy, stitched forehead. "Think back. What did your family call you?"

"M-m-my family," she repeated in confusion, bruised, plush lips tugging into a frown of concentration. This one didn't have her mouth sewn; the mortician had perfected his art to leave fewer scars and stitching. "Pa…Papa?"

The reaper shook his head. "No, I'm not your Papa, little lamb. I'm your guardian—your keeper. What name did your Papa call you by?"

She thought on it some more, drawing a ragged breath with which to speak. Her lungs only needed to function so that she could make sounds, now. Oxygen was no longer a requirement for her. "I am…I w-was D-D-D…"

She trailed off, her cold hand grasping the Undertaker's harder as she fought to get the name out. "D-Daria."

Aleister Chamber sat up straighter in the chair he was watching from, his violet gaze flicking to the Undertaker questioningly as the tall, retired Shinigami visibly tensed with excitement. The Undertaker nodded in satisfaction, quite obviously thrilled with this newest development. "That's right, my dear," crooned the mortician. "You are Daria Lanchester. Do you recall what happened to you?"

Her mouth opened and closed, and she moaned. "D-drowned," she choked. "P-please…don't m-make me…remember!"

Undertaker wasn't completely without sympathy for the doll. He was lucky they brought this one to him before her cinematic records had been collected or faded. This was the furthest he'd ever gotten before, however, and he couldn't release her from this life just yet. He needed to study her; improve the process and then, if she still wanted release after he'd learned all he could from her, he would grant her desire.

"It's very important to me that you recall the details, Daria. We can stop for the night and allow you some rest, but I can't grant you eternal rest for a bit. There's much work to be done…exciting work that will bring about fantastic things. You won't defy your master, will you?"

She whimpered and shook her head, well-aware of her position. Undertaker smiled and scooped her up easily to lay her back into her coffin. "Very good, my dear." He settled her into the casket and he waved a black-nailed hand over her blindfolded eyes. "Sleep now, Daria. Your rest will be free of dreams or nightmares, and you should be strong enough tomorrow to proceed further."

She immediately settled down, her chest going still as she fell into the sleep of the undead. The Undertaker closed the lid and secured the lock—both for the safety of the mortals he was working with and to ensure nobody tampered with his latest breakthrough.

~And what would your beloved Vincent think of you now, if he could see the dark things you've been up to for his sake?~

The question sprung unbidden to the reaper's mind as he turned to face his associate, and his smile faded a bit. Indeed, what would the man he was trying to revive think of the reaper he'd become during his absence? For that matter, how would he react to being brought back to life…turned into an immortal creature neither dead nor alive? Undertaker wasn't delusional enough to believe the man would be grateful and happy at first, but his grief had driven him to desperation and sunk him further into a state of madness that he'd never quite crossed before.

Shaking off his doubts, he forced the smile back onto his lips. "Well, Viscount; what do you think?"

"I'm wondering what purpose it is to have them remember...speaking is one thing. they could be used as spies as well as weapons, but remembering their pasts?" Allister tilted his head questionably, but there was a real interest on his face.

"The ability to recall who and what they were in their past lives is part of my side project," answered the mortician. "Not to worry, chap; I reserve that little feature for my special subjects. Those I manufacture for you will be blank slates—though a bit more intelligent and self-aware than the previous dollies. Can't have them too lucid for your purposes, can we?" He winked. "After all, if they can talk and have a will of their own, they might slip the leash and go chirping to the authorities."

The noble raised an eyebrow, "Personal project? I hadn't been aware you were working on such a thing. For what purpose are you making yourself some little birds, might I ask?" He stood up and strolled over, flamboyantly flipping his long blond hair over his shoulder.

"You can ask, but that doesn't guarantee an answer," said the mortician smoothly, grinning sharply at the young man. "Those details are mine to keep, and our agreement was that I have complete autonomy. It's no skin off my back if you choose to back out, Viscount. I can find my own bodies to work on, if necessary. Your coffers simply make it a bit easier for me to obtain my goal."

"Yes, yes, of course. But you can't blame me for being curious. Your private life seems so non-existent. All you do is work."

The Undertaker turned back to the coffin; his strange, hidden gaze intense on it. "All I have is work, my dear Viscount. That, and laughter—which is harder to come by these days than ever."

He started to cackle; darkly amused by his own pathetic situation. The reaper he once was never would have resorted to such measures to reclaim the love of anyone...let alone a mortal. He'd known Vincent's life was fleeting when he allowed himself to sample his lips and body. He'd known it was temporary. He had gone into the arrangement with full knowledge that he would lose him, thinking he could keep his heart separate from his lust.

"So much for that, old fool," he muttered beneath his breath. A part of him was still sane enough to know what a mistake he would be making, if he succeeded in bringing his human lover back to life. A bigger part of him was too selfish and far-gone with madness to care. He'd given enough to the world of the Divine and the Flesh. It was long past time for him to get something in return for it. His only doubts lay in how Vincent would react, when and if he succeeded.

~xox~

-To be continued