(A/N: Jeeze, I am addicted to symbolik dreams. Although the one's you're about to read is more like a nightmare on steroids because...demon-magic and...stuff. Also, most chapters won't be as long as the first ones, just FYI. This chapter is very un-edited, so I apologize for it being riddled with typos like the last one.)

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Upon returning to his room, Agni fell asleep immediately, but his slumber was not restful. His subconscious painted a garish scene around his dreaming self: the home of his previous life; corpulent in its ostentatious decadence. He felt unclean simply being there again. And that was not the worst of it. The demon he had just assisted in killing was there as well, wearing Soma's shape once more. The two of them lay on a wide couch, intertwined most intimately.

"Get off me!" He tried to separate their bodies, but the thing clung onto him.

"You wouldn't dream it if it wasn't what you want."

"You are not what I want."

"I'm the closessst you'll get." With a surge of unholy strength, the creature forced him onto his back, straddling his hips. "You know he wass in love with Mina." It whispered in his ear, before nibbling the lobe. "And he'll love another woman after her. He'll have a proper wife someday. The love you offer would only defile him. Ssso defile me." Kisses along his neck. "Everything you've ever wanted to do to him, do it to me."

Its fingers trailed down his bare chest, and lower, stroking him through the thin fabric of his loose pants. His body was quite aroused at that point, although his heart was screaming that it was all wrong. He grit his teeth against a moan as it gripped his length, smiling at him with Soma's eyes, Soma's mouth. Nothing had ever felt so good, or so horrible. It wasn't what he wanted, and yet he felt powerless to deny it. In that moment he was a slave to his own sins. And if it was his own dream, his own filthy desires, better to resolve them here than let them carry over into his waking life, his actual Soma.

He reversed their positions, wrapping his fingers in the imitation's hair and bringing their mouths together once more.

It whimpered and jerked away from him. When he looked into its face once more, he knew somehow that this was no longer any doppelganger in his arms.

There was a mirror beside the bed, and the dream's point of view was warped so that Agni could see his image in it, even as he looked down at Soma, almost like he was viewing a play while simultaneously being an actor in it. He realized his hair was long again, as it had when he had been Arshad. But it was the sight of his eyes that terrified him most, gone dark and cold with lust and greed. The image terrified him, but he couldn't look away. Because to look away from himself would be to look at Soma – Soma struggling, crying, please, stop it! But he wouldn't stop. Arshad had heard that plea before, and it had never stopped him before.

The dream shattered around him like the windshield of a crashing car. Pain lanced through him, worst in his leg where the thing had clawed him, although everywhere the demon's blood had touched him now radiated pain. He had washed it off most thoroughly, of course, but what did it matter? The demon's vice had taken root in his own. His very blood was septic with it.

.

Ciel spent the rest of the night, and a good portion of the morning, pondering the book. He seemed to have journeyed through exhaustion and emerged on the other side as a being that had no need of sleep. His eyes burned and he felt slightly dizzy, but not tired anymore.

The most interesting thing about the book was that, although it was among the thickest he had ever seen, it seemed to hold even more pages than its girth promised. He had but to open any section, and it seemed to expand indefinitely beneath his fingertips. He didn't think that the knowledge therein was infinite exactly, but the book had come from a God of Death. Why wouldn't it have supernatural qualities?

The ability to shift its mass was handy, but in other ways the book was less accommodating. In terms of writing style, it reminded him unpleasantly of many textbooks he had been forced to study. The subject matter was more interesting, yes, but the tone was just as dry and academic. Plus, the content was so laden with unfamiliar words and phrases that to look up one thing lead to questions about ten others. It had an index, thankfully, and most of Ciel's time was spent flipping back and forth to it. He could tell that a person might spend all their lives with this book, and not comprehend all its secrets.

The sun had risen in earnest by the time he closed it with a sigh and a spinning mind, feeling as though he might actually be ready for sleep.

As if on cue, Soma burst into his room without a knock. Ciel was about to scolding him, but something about the look on Soma's face prevented it.

"Ciel, something's really wrong with Agni." Soma's voice was low but rushed, and Ciel noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. "His wounds are…like infected, but worse. I think it poisoned him." His voice rose a few octaves towards the end, spiraling into panic.

"Tell Bard to call the doctor again. And if he can't help us, chances are this can." Ciel indicated the book.

"What is –?"

"Everything you could wish to know about demons. And then some."

.

Agni had been woken by a cool hand on his sweltering brow. Opening his eyes, Soma's face swam into focus above his own, brow knit in concern.

"You're burning up…"

"Don't…touch me." Agni managed, in a hoarse voice. "I'm unclean."

Soma's face was the very picture of alarm as he drew the blankets back from Agni's chest. Agni couldn't see what Soma did, but he assumed it looked ugly from the way Soma blanched, pressing one hand over his mouth as though to hold in a scream.

"I-I'm going to get Ciel. He'll know a-a doctor. Just wait here for a moment."

There wasn't much else he could do. Agni was slightly surprised he had even lived till morning, with how bad things had gotten the night before.

A distant part of his mind which wasn't consumed with pain wondered just how sad Soma would be if he were to die, how much damage another loss would do. Agni didn't wish to die, but he would if it meant the nightmares to stop. Visions in which all of his worst fears and darkest desires were realized, fused and braided into a fun-house mirror of depraved hallucinations in which his own reflection terrified him. Even if he did survive, he didn't know how he would live with himself.

Soma returned, with Ciel this time. Soma told him that a doctor had been summoned. Agni felt like a priest would have been more appropriate. Soma and Ciel then fell into a conversation between themselves, peppered with words unfamiliar to him. They were pouring over some kind of book…

Another lapse into darkness, and then the doctor was there, probing him with cold metal, peering into his eyes and mouth, expression grave...

Finni and Bard were moving his unresponsive body, lifting him into a stretcher. The pain of that was too great to endure.

When he surfaced once again, he was in a moving vehicle. Soma was still there. He had taken one of Agni's hands in both his own, and Agni could feel Soma's tears falling on his skin.

"My Lord…please don't cry." He said in their native tongue, not wishing others to be privy to their conversation.

"Then don't leave me." His grip tightened on Agni's hand. "Ciel thinks he might be able to cure you, if the doctors can't. But it will take some time. Just hold on for a little longer. I know you're in a lot of pain…I know I'm being selfish again, but please…" his voice broke over a sob, and the last words came out in a jagged whisper. "Please don't go."

Agni wondered if Soma would still say that, if he knew what had being going on in his servant's mind. He was losing the man he had become for Soma's sake, collapsing back into the vile corruption of his past. Agni, back down to Arshad, down into something even lower. Something subhuman. What good would it do, to live for Soma's sake, when his very life had become a betrayal?

.

The book didn't have a remedy for infections caused by demonic wounds. No, it had dozens, and therein laid the problem: which would be most effective? It was clear to Ciel already that the term 'demon' was a broad, sweeping category which encompassed many different types of supernatural creatures. There were so many horrible things they could do to the human body, everything from poison to possession, with variations depending on the type.

They didn't have time to review every single category of creature which might fit the bill of the one they had just killed. Even if he did have the time, he couldn't concentrate with Soma there, pacing, wringing his hands, asking questions to which neither of them knew the answer, as though Ciel was some sort of expert because he'd had access to the book a few hours longer.

In the end, they chose an antidote which seemed quite general. One of the simpler ones, a tonic made primarily from the powder of purified silver. The instructions on how to energetically purify it were complicated enough, and it required more ingredients aside from that one.

They reached that decision just as the ambulance arrived.

Ciel convinced the medical personnel to let Soma accompany them through a mixture of bribery and berating, and ordered Bard to follow them to the hospital. He didn't trust Soma left to his own devices out in the world, with Agni incapable of looking after him.

That left Finni to guard the house, and May-Rin. Ciel could only hope the boy didn't do more damage than good to either of the above in the time Ciel had to be away. But he had to go, and even if his servants had not been occupied, he wouldn't have trusted them to assist him in this. Sebastian was the only one Ciel had trusted with this kind of thing. Ciel could almost hear his quiet laugh, at the thought of Ciel attempting it alone.

Before Soma had left, Ciel had given him a note. Soma, of course, had stuffed it in his pocket without as much as a glance. Ciel could only hope that Soma would remember its existence eventually. It went as follows,

Soma,

I'm going to see Lao – you might remember him from the first time you visited me, a tall man of Oriental extraction. He is the only one I know who might supply us with the necessary materials.

If I don't make it back, I've hidden that book under my pillows. Do the best you can with it on your own if you must.

-C. P.

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Lao's shop was innocuous enough from the outside, just another hole-in-the wall venue selling cheap curios from the Orient. Ciel entered, gave the password to the man behind the counter, and was shown through a hidden door in the back, which led to a downward-spiraling staircase.

Ciel had briefly contemplated bringing along his small revolver, but he dismissed that option. He was going into Lao's home turf. A weapon would only serve to ignite aggression. And if it came to a fight, Ciel would lose, gun or no gun. Yet as he descended the stairs, into the haze of sickly-sweet opium fumes, he wished he had something. Sebastian's absence was so acute Ciel felt it like a missing limb. His phantom-butler, walking at his side, shielding him from all this.

The scene he walked in on filled him with a certain unwilling nostalgia. Everything in Ciel's world had been smashed and re-arranged most recently, but here Lao was the same as ever: reclining on his couch with his elaborate pipe in one hand. A bevy of wasted-looking Oriental girls clustered around him, including his alleged 'sister', Ran Mao, sitting on his lap. She was as mute and blank-faced as always.

Lao giggled. "So, so, it's true? I hardly believed it, that the Phantomhive butler vacated his post, but here you are before me, so sadly alone!"

Ran Mao slid off Lao's lap at the precise movement he made to stand. Lao approached Ciel.

"I must express my sincerest regrets at your fate. Particularly in a place like this, your abandonment is most unfortunate. A little English Lord wandering about all on his own, so sad! Who knows what terrible things might befall him?"

Lao had drawn level with Ciel now, and Ciel was reminded once again of the unfortunate height difference between them. Nonetheless, he did his best not to appear intimidated, even as he was forced to crane his neck.

"I require something of you." He drew out the written list and held it out to Lao. "A…friend of mine is going to die if this doesn't get carried through. So if you're going to kill me or hold me hostage or something of that nature, kindly do it after we've completed this transaction."

His curiosity piqued, Lao took the paper from Ciel's hand and scrutinized it. "So…" he mused. "You've gotten involved in this business. I suspected it was only a matter of time."

"Come off it Lao. I know you don't know anything."

"I know these things will not come cheap."

Ciel sighed in relief, although he hoped it sounded more like irritation. "Name your price. As I said, I'm in a bit of a bind." He found it strange, how Lao's mind has switched from threats to business so quickly. But then again, Lao was strange in every way. If he would rather extort Ciel than commit outright violence against him, Ciel wasn't going to complain.

"Have a smoke, now you're here."

"No, thank you."

"That wasn't a question. Doing so is contingent to my agreement."

Ciel stared, incredulous. "Why the hell do you want me to smoke opium? Don't you have addicts enough?"

"Oh quite. Too many, if anything."

"Then why?"

"A mark of pride. You waltz in here, alone and unarmed, and expect me to bow to your will. In exchange, you must also bow to mine."

"Did you not hear me when I said my friend was dying? Like, as we speak? I don't have time for this nonsense!"

"Time is of no consequence. All this," he motioned at the list in his hands, "will not be gathered or assembled instantaneously. But I will do both the gathering and the preparation –and all for a reasonable price – if you do this."

Ciel stared, speechless.

Lao chuckled. "You could always say no. I won't force you to do this – though I could. And you can't force me to do anything at all."

Leave it to Lao, to play such a twisted game. Of course he didn't need Ciel's money, his patronage or even his tolerance. Lao was so deeply immersed in the criminal underworld, both in England and God knew where else, that Ciel probably couldn't so much as scratch him, without Sebastian on his side.

Sebastian…

Ciel eyed the opium pipe in dismay. Would he become addicted, just from this? Was Lao planning to poison him, or do something worse while Ciel was in a vulnerable state…? But no, in this situation Lao could do all those things without having to bargain. But even if the deal was as straightforward as he presented it, Ciel nonetheless had a deep-seated horror of giving over control of his body, be it to a person or substance. Ever since all that had happened to him…

He clenched his fists. Which would be worse, doing this, or going back and telling Soma that Agni had to die, knowing all the while that he could have prevented it? In the end, it wasn't Soma or Agni who had gotten involved with demons. That was Ciel's doing, him and no other.

I'm the one who made a deal with the devil. I have no claim on innocence.

All the times Sebastian had accompanied him here, all the times he had made Ciel feel safe; this was the price, the flip side.

"No funny business while I'm…indisposed."

"Of course not." Said Lao, a little too innocently.

"I mean it. People know where I went. If something happens –"

"My sweet Ciel, why would I take any kind of advantage of you, if you do this? Making you a puppet on my strings is reward enough for me. Besides, I'm a business man. I do more or less try to keep my word to my associates."

.

Once he breathed from the pipe a few times, Ciel's trepidation faded with remarkable swiftness. He tried to hold on to the feeling, not to yield to this wave of artificial contentment, but it proved impossible. All his sorrow, his worry, the stress of the last few days seemed to fall from him, and he was so very light in their absence. He didn't care that he was lying on a dirty couch in a seedy illegal opium den surrounded by crooks, prostitutes, and illegals. As long as he could just rest here…

The walls began shining next, slowly at first, until the dingy underground room began to resemble a vividly colored palace. All the other people in the room faded to mere shadows.

He closed his eyes for a while. When he opened them again, Sebastian was sitting near the foot of the couch, watching him with a half-smile and fathomless red eyes.

"Young Master, you've been a fool."

"I didn't have much choice in the matter."

"I'm not referring to the imbibing of this…substance. Rather, it's the information you gave him which will cause you trouble."

"All he has is a recipe. He doesn't know what it is."

"You're so sure of that?"

"It's Lao. Since when does he know anything?"

"Do you imagine you're the only one of your kind who has ever had dealings with one of mine? If you must know, I'll tell you this: Lao's sister, Ran Mao, died when they were both young."

The dream seemed to darken slightly.

"…Even if that were true…even if he did know what I'm doing, why would it matter?"

Sebastian sighed, as if Ciel were struggling with an arithmetic problem.

"My kind are not wild beasts. We do have something of a society, although not in the matter of humans. It will be known that you killed a demon. Now, it will be known that you possess…information, about how to deal with us. Given your resources and history, some may regard you as a potential threat. Some among my kind might pay, to be alerted to that threat early on. The proverbial stitch in time saving nine."

"That's a clever line of reasoning." Ciel snapped, the irritation somehow touching him even through the muddle of chemical euphoria. Perhaps it was beginning to wear off. "But it's all speculation. Ran Mao is just a quiet Chinese girl, and Lao has no idea what I'm about. And you're just a hallucination anyway. You don't know anything."

"As you say. Indecently, I suggest you wake up from his hallucination before he cuts you."

"Before he –"

Ciel blinked awake, to see Lao leaning over him with a knife.

"AAGGGGGHHHHH!" Ciel scrambled backwards, falling off the couch. "WHAT HAPPENED TO KEEPING YOUR WORD TO YOUR ASSOCIATES?!"

"I'm completing the directions as ordered." Lao said cheerfully. "Apparently you didn't read it all, but it calls for the blood of a virgin and, well…" He glanced around the room at the various women. "You were the most likely candidate."

"It calls for a few drops of blood! That's a sodding butcher's knife!"

"I'm very diligent in my work."

"Just give it to me; I'll see to the blood myself, thanks."

"Alright." Said Lao, looking disappointed. "Now there's just the matter of payment.

Ciel reached into his pocket, relieved and surprised to find his checkbook still there. He wrote out the sum which Lao named, which seemed much inflated from his aforementioned 'reasonable price' but Ciel was in no mood to haggle.

Lao handed him the cure, contained in a nondescript white jar.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Phantomhive."

Ciel bit back a scornful response, merely rolling his eyes and turning towards the door. On the threshold, he hesitated, glancing back past Lao to where Ran Mao sat on the couch, expressionless as ever. Surely she couldn't be…

She dipped her chin, ever so slightly, in a nod, those empty eyes never leaving his.

It was all he could do to keep from running up the stairs.

.

"Ciel!" As soon as he set foot in the hospital room, Soma enveloped him in a hug, which Ciel shook off irritably.

"Here." He pushed the jar into Soma's hands. "You're supposed to apply it topically to the affected areas. This had better work." He added in an undertone, more to himself than Soma.

"It will." Soma spoke more through conviction than factual assurance, but Ciel wasn't going to push it.

"Soma…before we use it, there's…I need to ask you something."

"What?" Soma asked as he unscrewed the jar.

"Have you ever…" Ciel grit his teeth. "Have you ever known a woman?"

Soma looked at him blankly. "I know plenty of women."

"No, like…intimately."

"Like really close friends?" Soma asked, his knowledge of English semantics failing him.

"No." Ciel half-groaned. "Are…you…a…virgin?"

"Oh. Yes." Soma said with a snicker. "You English are so uptight about that sort of…what are you do – OW!"

Ciel had taken Soma's hand and cut it with a small knife.

"It's for the remedy." Ciel said, taking the now-open jar and letting a few drops of Soma's blood fall into it.

"Oh. You might've warned me."

"Here." Ciel handed Soma the jar and turned towards the door. "I need to return home, and I'm having Bard drive me, so you're on your own for a while. Uh…be careful while you're here, alright?"

"Is something wrong?" Soma asked.

"I'm not sure. I'll call you when I'm home." Ciel turned in the doorway, eyes taking in Soma and Agni. "Good luck."

.

Soma reached down to pull back the thin, white hospital sheets, intending to begin with the long slice on Agni's chest. But Agni, summoning what remained of his strength, grabbed Soma's hand, preventing him.

"It's okay." Soma said quickly. "Ciel just gave me the remedy. I'm to apply it to your wounds."

"My Lord…before you do, allow me to confess." Agni spoke with closed eyes. Even the dim light in the room hurt them, and besides, he couldn't bring himself to look at Soma while he said this. And yet he had to say it.

"Confess after." Soma said, tugging against Agni's grip.

"It must be now. Then you can decide…if you wish to save my life."

He had once lived a life of deceit and lies, after all. He needed to be honest now, even if it wasn't a happy honesty. If he was flawed, corrupted…Soma deserved to know it. Agni only hoped that Soma could forgive him. He needed absolution, needed to know that Soma could know him, understand his shortcomings along with his strengths, and still accept him.

What was the point of living, otherwise?

"D-don't talk nonsense." Soma said, uneasy. "You could tell me nothing which would make me wish you dead."

"I have nothing to lose then, do I?" Something which might have been a smile showed on Agni's face, but it vanished quickly. "You understand, don't you, what that creature meant to do to you, while wearing my likeness?"

"Yes…"

"Do you remember what it said, directly before that? It spoke of…adoration…" A look of pain crossed his face. His grip tightened on Soma's wrist, his other hand clenched the bedclothes, white-knuckled.

"Agni…"

"I need to say this." He had chewed on these words endlessly, as he flickered in and out of consciousness. "Did you at any point wonder why I fell to this infection and you did not?"

Soma glanced briefly down at his own torso, where the demon had clawed him. "Luck? Who knows?" Truthfully he hadn't given it a second thought.

"It's because you're pure of heart, while I am not. The creature spoke of desire which was an abomination…" Another wave of pain seemed to grip him. "My Lord, I honor and respect you…but that is not all. The creature's evil took root in my own sin."

Soma was silent for a moment, but not a long one.

"So…you…care about me, in a certain way. Is that what you're saying?"

"…More or less. An inappropriate way."

Soma pulled his arm at last from Agni's grip with an effort. "I don't know what to say to that, except that I don't want you to die. How could you think that?"

At the moment, Soma's only care was for Agni's survival. He simply didn't have the mental energy to take on anything more, and this was so far beyond his realm of experience he had no idea how to even begin to approach it.

Agni made no answer. Soma pulled the sheet down and began to spread the tonic on the inflamed, festering wound. When he was finished with it, he glanced at Agni's face. His eyes were still closed.

"If the poison found any weakness in you that I lack, it was probably self-doubt."

Agni said nothing, possibly no longer conscious. Soma turned his attention to the rest of his wounds.

.

"So, you think Lao sold you out?" Bard asked, as he took the winding roads back to the manor at breakneck speed.

"I know that he would, if he had information and someone willing to pay for it." Ciel closed his eyes briefly, his fatigue overtaking him for a moment. "I have no idea if demons can or would pay cash for gossip, if they communicate, or are aware if one of their own dies. And I don't know whether Lao knows anything. But if he does…"

"If he does, he does. If you want my two cents, I think you did the right thing. We had a man down; there wasn't time to shop around for alternatives."

"Let's see how Finni and May-Rin are faring, before we decide."

.

The house was still more or less standing when they arrived. There was of course the charred hole in the wall of Ciel's bedroom, but it didn't seem to have grown any.

Ciel was surprised at how Bard's military experience seemed to take over. He made Ciel wait in the driver's seat of the car, with the promise that he would at least attempt to drive away if Bard gave him the signal, before advancing into the house, gun at the ready.

In the tense minutes while Bard was out of sight, Ciel alternated between imagining the horrific things which might be befalling his servants, or wondering how far he could possibly drive before he wrapped the car around a tree.

Then Bard appeared in the doorway, giving the 'all clear' signal. Ciel breathed a sign of relief and followed him inside.

.

"Just pack some clothes, enough for a few days. May-Rin, you're to be checked in to the hospital –Soma and Agni can keep you company there – and the three of us," he gestured at Bard, Finni, and himself, "will stay at an inn under a false name. It's just a precaution, but I'm not taking any chances."

They all went their separate ways to pack. Ciel was more concerned with the Necronomicon than any clothes or valuables, and was quite relieved to find it under the pillows where he'd left it. Along with the book, he filled a small suitcase with the clothes he imagined he might need. Strange, usually Sebastian helped him dress…. He kicked the half-full bag, both sad and annoyed. How was he supposed to kill monsters when he could hardly clothe himself?

.

Bard was in the kitchen when Ciel returned, loading a large assortment of guns into a duffel bag.

"Finni is helping May-Rin get her things together." Bard said, before Ciel could question the whereabouts of the other two.

"Alright. I need to make a call."

Soma was quite surprised when a nurse entered the room and handed him a telephone receiver, its cord stretched and straining from somewhere beyond the door.

"Um, a Mr. Smith for you…?"

"Oh, uh…thank you." He took the phone from her. "Hello…?"

"Don't tell them my name." Ciel's voice said on the other end. "We're officially being careful. How's Agni?"

"Still out cold…"

"I'll be there with the book in about half an hour, so if worst comes to worst we can try another –"

There came the sound of an ear-splitting crash from Ciel's end.

"Oh…my…god…"

The line went dead. Soma stared at the phone in his hand as though it had been transformed by magic into a viper.

"Sir? Is something the matter?"

.

"'I don't want you to die'? 'I don't want you to die'?! What kind of shitty response is that!?" Grell was yelling at a small, rather battered-looking television set. There were several long, intricately twisted antenna protruding from it, and on it's screen, the interaction between Agni and Soma had just played out, transmitted in real-time. "Dumb brat, ought to crawl in that bed and give him something to live for! If you won't than I -"

The door to Grell's office banged open.

"Will..." Grelle said, addressing the tall, severe-looking Shinigami who stood in the doorway. "What brings you to my - "

"You're misappropriating company resources again, aren't you?" Will said, striding over to Grell's desk and turning the television so he could see it.

"No no, it's for work, I swear!" Grell protested. "They're trying to hunt demons...not exactly our department but it's worth keeping an eye on..."

"How diligent of you." Will said drily. He adjusted the channel to Ciel Phantomhive, arching a brow at what he saw. "It doesn't seem like you'll need to keep an eye on them much longer."

Grell peered over to see what Will was looking at. "Oh my." He grinned. "Yep, we'll be collecting them soon."

.

(A/N: So I know 'Oriental' is not an okay way to describe a person, but...it's Victorian England. Thanks for reading!)