What Remains

Summary: Ceil and Sebastian have left under mysterious circumstances and now the Phantomhive manor is without an owner. However, the servants remain.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family, and Drama

Rating: T

Characters: Meyrin, Finny, Tanaka and Bard

Paring(s): None

Disclaimer: Don't owns...

A/N: This was my editors favorite section, or at least, I think it was; It's hard to tell with my editor sometimes. ;P Enjoy.

[Section 4/5]

Chapter 4- Cuts and Open Wounds

Finnian managed to cry for about another half an hour or so. At least, that's what Bard had counted up to before he had lost track of time. He hadn't done much more than sit there and stare down the rose bush in front of him as he allowed Finny to let go of some emotion on his shoulder. He didn't really add any words or try to hush him, he just allowed the younger to vent on him, which was understandable; he was used to such a job.

The sun, which had been bright earlier, was now setting on the horizon, leaving them in little light next to the shadowy wall. Bard could still make out the small form of Finny against him, shivering slightly as he calmed down from his melt down. After minutes of silence, Bard prodded the warm lump on his shoulder.

"Finny, it's getting late. Do you want to go in?" The blond head shifted against him and rose; his face was still puffy and red, but visible tears were gone. He nodded slightly.

"Alright. Come on, then. Let's get out from this bush before it's too dark to pull ourselves out…" He turned on his knees, grabbing one of Finny's thinner hands to ensure that he'd actually follow him out. The last thing he wanted was to have to climb back into the bush after him, and in the dark, to boot. He flinched at the idea of ending up face first in the beautiful roses as he inched his way out from behind the wall; it was somehow a much easier experience than getting into the earthy patch.

Once he got out, he stood up and dusted himself off. His white apron was covered in sooty dirt. His trousers were in a similar state, but they weren't anything special, and he had many spares in his wardrobe. His eyes slid over the horizon of the lawn. The bushes were positioned on a far wall that connected with the back lawn. The sun was only a speck in the distance over the perimeter's monstrous walls. All the spring flowers that had recently come up clashed with the darkened grass from the fading light. Bard, who usually wasn't interested in the yard, even had to stop and admire the well-groomed lawn.

Detaching himself from the sight, Bard turned back to the house, allowing the sun to fill in the spot in the yard that still had retained color. The beauty seemed to dim out with the light. For the umpteenth time that night, he wished he could pull out a cigarette and take a smoke to distract himself a little.

Finny stood staring at him and Bard got a good look at him for the first time. The opal white shirt was stained like his own apron with blotches of brown and green. The red trim around his sleeves and collar had turned from a rusty red to a filthy black from grime and dirt. Small nicks and tears were viable around his collar and the v-neck that sloped down his chest as though he had caught it on something and been tugged on for release. His white gloves and straw hat were missing altogether and the small red barrettes that usually kept his hair out of his face were lopsided and askew, no longer retaining any shape. His face was puffed up and pink, and small cuts lingered in small sections. Deep blue clashes with the red that rimmed his eye lids. Mud decorated his features and seemed almost strategically placed so that none of his grated skin was dirtied. It didn't, however, hide the fact that Finny just looked like a complete mess. Bard couldn't even comprehend how he could look to pathetic only after a couple of hours out in the yard.

He chose to take note of his appearance. "Wow, Fin. What did you do? Crawl under the rose bush?" Finnian didn't seem to understand the joke at the moment, and cocked his head slightly. The older man sighed, realizing that now was not the time to be lightening the situation. "Oh, never mind. Let's just get you inside. We'll clean you up and get you something to eat. I'm sure you're starvin', since you skipped dinner and all."

He reached to take Finny's smaller hand in his own and drag him over to the side door, but before he could, Finny reached out and took Bard's own slack hand. "Thank you, Bard." He squeaked shyly as he stared at his boots as though they had suddenly his interest. Bard's eyebrows lifted to his hairline in curiosity, but he smoothed his brow out a second later and gave Finny's hand a firm squeeze.

"No problem at all, Fin. Now come on, let's go inside." He remarked back, pushing off his act of kindness as nothing more as if he had only offered Finnian a glass of water because he looked thirsty.

Finny nodded and released his hand, and Bard allowed him to lead the way as they entered through the side door. The kitchen was now rather dark, but Bard quickly lit some candles to light the room. He ordered Finny to sit and wait at the countertops; Bard couldn't help but notice how suddenly out of place they both looked in the pristine and polished kitchen.

"Alright, I'm going to recook some of leftover, so give me a second." He lifted a finger, imploring for patience even though he doubted he'd hear any gripes from the disheveled gardener. Bardroy began to place the meat that sat cold on the serving tray back into the pan on the stove and reheated it. The kitchen remained relatively silent as the sizzling of meat permeated the air.

"So what do you-?" Bard's question was cut off as suddenly a whirlwind of purple flew into the room.

"Oh, Bard! I've been looking for Finny and I can't find him anywhere! And it's dark out! What if he's outside all alone! It's not safe! We have-" She wheezed in her nazly voice with quickened panic. However, her attention turned to the surprised Finny rather quickly, and she froze in initial shock. For one small second, there was calm silence before Meyrin's panicked actions picked up again and she rushed to Finny's side.

"Oh, Finny! There you are! Where have you been! I've been so worried!" She chattered loudly as she inspected his clothes and noticed the scratches all over his face. "And where were you? You've got scratches all over your face! Oooohhhh! Finny!" She squealed and then jumped into a large hug, ignoring the fact that Finny's griminess was also dirtying her clothing as well.

Finny, who had been pretty subdued before, took action and began lightly patting Meyrin on the back while trying to get her to get off of him. Bardroy suspected his main motivation for such an action was because of his consideration for Meyrin's dress becoming filthy with their hug.

"Ou~? Meyrin! I'm fine. I'm sorry, Bard is helping me." Meyrin backed up and her eyes behind her thick glasses analyzed him as best as she could. Her fingers began probing at the cut on his face. "Owww! Meyrin, that hurts! Please stop poking me!" He pleaded.

Meyrin's eyebrow arched slightly, but instead of apologizing (like she usually would), her tone grew slightly more agitated. "Well, of course they hurt! You're poor face is covered in them! What did you do jump in that stupid rose bush around back?"

Finny flinched, and Bard chuckled a little at the pinpoint assumption. Finny's cheeks acquired a shade of red that covered the puffiness of his past tears; he was embarrassed from being figured out so quickly. "I tripped into the bush….." He mumbled grouchily, while Bard couldn't help but burst out into low laughter. Finny ignored his amusement. "Besides, I sit behind those bushes all the time. It's very cool back there during spring… and it's hard for anyone to find you." His green eyes darted to Bard, who managed to quiet himself as he pulled the fried meat from the pan and put it on a plate for Finny. He walked over to the ice box to cut up some fresh vegetables as Meyrin continued to fuss.

"Ooooohhh! But Finny, you should have been more careful!" She reprimanded, although her worried irritation leaned into a more flustered compassion. Her slim fingers removed themselves from his face and she straightened up, dusting off some dirt of the she had acquired from her hug. "I'll go get some bandages so we can patch you right up!" Finny looked like he want to refute her request, but the purple whirlwind brushed out of the room just as fast as she had entered, shutting the door with a firm slam on her way out.

Finny grumbled and laid his face on the table. Bard shook his head in amusement and placed some chopped celery on the plate. He sat it down in front of Finny, who turned his head at the smell food. "Alright, eat up." He announced as he wiped his hands on a florally dish towel, removing the dirty apron that was wrapped around his waist. He placed it directly into a nearby trashcan, knowing it would never return back to its original pearly white color. He turned back to Finny, who seemed to be analyzing his food with his head on the table, but had yet to make a move.

"Come on, I worked so hard to recook it. You could at least humor me by trying some of it." Finny looked to Bard and nodded. He took the utensils in front of him and began chowing down slowly. Bard started clearing plates as Meyrin came waltzing back in with an armful of bandages (about the right amount to wrap a full sized mummy), and a couple of cleaning clothes.

She placed herself on a stool next to Finny and, without invitation, began wiping at his face to clear off the grime; however, with food half shoved into his mouth, it looked less than eloquent. Finny struggled away and tried to continue eating.

"Sit still, Fin! I'm trying to clean the cuts off!" She declared as she scrubbed at his face again. Finny didn't force her away, but he turned his head obviously displeased.

Bard shook his head at their antics and began placing plates in the nearby sink for cleaning. "Meyrin, let him finish eating before you have a go at his face." He said off handedly as he discarded the leftover turkey, knowing it wouldn't last long in the icebox. Meyrin looked at Bard, then back at Finny, who took the opportunity to shovel a large piece of turkey into mouth. She sighed, exasperated, and leaned back, placing her towel on the countertop.

"Oh, fine. Very well." She sat back, watching Finny eat almost predatorily, waiting for the moment he would finish so she could continue scrubbing his face clean.

The kitchen enveloped into a moment of low activity as Finny continued his meal and Bard placed pots into the sink; he didn't really have any intentions to clean them tonight though, he would leave that for the next morning.

"So…. Finny…. Are you ok?" Meyrin questioned lightly, but not touching him. The blond looked at her and swallowed hard, his face returning downcast at the subject change. Bard didn't like the look, but he knew it was a topic they needed to address. He took the last empty stool on the counter top, sitting to the left of Finnian.

Finny's gaze flittered between Bard and Meyrin. "I don't know." He sounded truthful, but a small ounce of desperation could be heard.

Meyrin's mouth curved downward in displeasure. "Oh, Finny. Everything will be alright." She announced; Bard could tell she wasn't a hundred percent sure what she was trying to console him for.

Finny dropped his utensils and placed them on his barren plate. He looked to Meyrin. "How do you know? You're going away, right? How can you possibly know how everything's going to turn out if you're not here." He wasn't shouting and it really wasn't accusing, but the maid flinched anyway. They were all still for a moment as she rose to her feet, scooting the stool back silently.

She grabbed her supplies and one of Finny's hands and dragged him from his seat as well. His stool made a loud grating sound as it was pulled against the stone floor. "Come on; let's clean you up in the backroom."

She pulled him along through the door without protest. Bard followed close behind, not really sure why she insisted on switching rooms. But by the way her brow was crinkled, she obviously had no intention dropping the subject.

The three entered the drawing room together. The sun had gone down, creating a large black void outside the window. Bard immediately on entrance set himself to lighting the room's candles as Meyrin bullied Finny onto the sofa that rested on the far side of the room. The room had more of a French decorum, and much of it was lavished in furniture and wall ornaments. However, since the late master hadn't much cared for the room, it didn't contain many special heirlooms or decoration that set the room apart from any other of the house.

Bard groaned in pleasure as he took a seat in the arm chair next to the sofa, not caring as he propped his dirtied boots up on the footrest in front of him; there was no Sebastian to critique him for it anymore, anyway. He watched wearily as Meyrin gingerly began cleaning Finny's face off and applying small bandages to the larger cut at his jaw line.

It was quiet for a couple of moments and Bard entertained his straying mind by watching the flames of the candles cause the shadows of various objects to dance. His mind didn't relax, however, because Meyrin broke the silence with her tiny voice.

"I don't know what's going to happen, Finny." She said at last. Two pairs of eyes darted to meet her face, but he couldn't gauge much with her thick glasses, covering her expression.

"Why do you have to go?" He timidly asked back as Meyrin swiped at another cut. She didn't look him in the eye.

"I don't know." She sounded convinced in her confusion. Bard could sympathize.

"Where will you go?" Meyrin pressed another bandage to his face. Her fingers stopped moving for a moment as she mumbled a quick 'one second' before pulling off her thick glasses and placing them beside her on the couch. Her amethyst eyes were full of dread and fear; it wasn't often either the other two got to see them, but on those short occasions they had never been filled with such pain.

"I…. I guess back to what I was doing before. It's the only thing I can go back to." Her eyes focused squarely on Finny's face as she continued to patch him up. He didn't like her answer and swatted her hands away.

"B-But w-why! Why do you have to leave in the first place!" He turned to Bard, who had merely been a spectator until that moment. "What about you, Bard?" Bard blinked at the question and ran his hand through his ragged hair.

"Blimey, Finny, I don't know." He answered truthfully. He didn't know where he would go, but unlike Meyrin, he refused to go back to where he'd come from. He had escaped into a new life, and if he could, he would do so again. He would not allow any more blood be burdened on his stained hands or his worn heart.

Once more, Finny wasn't satisfied with the lack of response. Tears gathered at the edge of his eyes, but unlike before, they seemed more out of frustration than actual pain of heart. "Well, why don't you! If you're so dedicated to leave, why haven't you!" Meyrin tried to reach out for his hand, but he managed to evade her grip.

"Finny, we're not leaving because of you. The manor is empty, there's nothing left here for us to do." She prompted back, her words imploring him to understand that she wasn't doing this for any self-satisfaction. "Why are you so upset? Everything changes eventually."

Bard nodded. "Yeah, Fin, and we're not going to make you go anywhere you don't want."

Finnian's anger seemed to boil a bit more as his eyes turned to a darker, poisonous, shade. Frustrated tears ran raged down his cheeks and he didn't attempt to wipe them away.

"But if you leave, I'll go back to where I was before anyway." Any response Meyrin had prepared died on her lips and her eyes turned sad. The word 'alone' hung in the air above their heads like a fetid smell that no one wanted to point out. Finny's eyes fell downcast, and he seemed to shrivel up again on himself again and his hands met his face, hiding himself away again. Bard detected this, but Meyrin beat him to the punch at doing something and wrapped her slim arms around Finny.

Her eyes welled up with her own tears at the open emotions. "Oh, Finny…" Her lips trembled as she pressed her face into his blond hair. "You don't have to go back anywhere. We won't leave you. Even if we do leave the manor, we'll take you with us. You won't be alone." She pulled him tighter, attempting to demonstrate the weight of her words by her mere grip alone. "No one has to be alone…." Tears dipped slowly down her eyes as she fingered his hair, adjusting his red clips with care.

Bard propped himself up not wanting to intrude on the sincerity of the moment, but wanting to be a part of it nonetheless. He edged himself closer and sat behind Meyrin on the sofa. He watched as Meyrin gave a tear filled smile and turned her face back to Finny. "We won't leave, Finny. We're a family." Finny froze and looked at Meyrin and Bard as though he had never heard the word before.

Bard smiled back at the confused expression aimed at them. "Yeah, and we stick together." He gave a positive thumb up. Finny nodded and wiped away possible tears as he smiled back. Meyrin kept her hold on him.

They all sat in silence, each focusing on their own thoughts. With the Young Lord gone, the servants were free to do as they pleased, but with that freedom, it also brought back unwanted thoughts of their past. Bardroy had nowhere to go, but refused to return to his old life. Meyrin had nowhere else to go but to her old life and Finny…. he had no previous life. With such past identities, the only way to continue on was to band together. They could live on their own…. but they wouldn't really live. Not like in this new life they had created at the manor as the Pantomhive servants.

"We don't…have to leave." Meyrin said aloud. Her voice reluctant, but filled with the possibility of hope. "We could stay here, maybe…"

Bard blinked at the idea, not sure why the idea surprised him. He really hadn't had any plans to go anywhere else. And if he did leave, the manor would always be his home. It had taken him in, at his all-time low, given him a purpose- and people who would support him.

"He could always come back." Bard suggested offhandedly. Finny and Meyrin's eyes both darted to his, demanding explanation. "The young Lord, he could come back one day. People change their minds on decisions all the time." He said, trying to be optimistic for once. Meyrin jumped a little and seemed to catch on.

"And where what would he do without his servants?" Meyrin replied, her mouth curving into a sincere smile. "We have to stay for the young lord, just in case he changes his mind!"

Finny brightened up at the words as well. "So, we can stay… We can stay!" He seemed blissfully amazed and Bard chuckled, reaching out and placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

"No one told you otherwise, Finny." Finny looked to both Bard and Meyrin and beamed the widest smile they'd ever given. Pearly white teeth gleamed as a delighted laugh passed his lips.

Surprising Bard, he pulled both of the older servants into a wide hug. Meyrin jumped in surprise, but accepted his embrace a moment later. Tears sprung on both their faces, but they didn't seem to carry the bitterness of the previous. And even Bard let a relieved grin capture his face as Finny let loose another laugh, sounding the happiest he'd been in a long time.