A/N: Hello my lovelies! Another long chapter, I have realized that unless I rush to the ending this story will be on the long side. I do not want to drag it out and I promise I'll do my best not to bore you guys but I do want to show the character development that leads to them having their more canonical personalities. Fear not, this development will still have plenty of shippy goodness along the way. Thank you so much for your continued support, I always love to read your reviews (:

The wind was cold, stinging Grell's face and whipping some of his air out of his braid. The weather in the shinigami realm always seemed colder than it was in the human world. He pulled his thin, horrifically unfashionable suit jacket around himself as tight as he could and ducked his head against the biting air. It seemed like a much longer walk than usual down the stairs of Dispatch when he was frozen to the bone.

"It's you."

He kept walking until he reached the bottom of the stairs and realized there was no one else around. He turned to find a tall man in the same black suit as him, about halfway up the stairs. Grell reached back to finger his braid, though he didn't know why. "Me?"

"I passed you in the hallway earlier, you seem familiar."

The man's voice rang out in his ears in a way that was almost painful. Grell watched him descend the stairs until they were face to face. "You'd remember me, darling, not everyone can catch a man's eye like I can."

"I'm not your..."

Vibrant green eyes the same as his own widened, and Grell couldn't breathe. The cold day became blisteringly hot. He felt himself going dizzy, choking on the smell of smoke and blood. His gloved hands became bare and stained with red. It was beautiful, that red, but also terrible. This was different than when he woke up and remembered Alois, and the memories he had slowly been getting back over his time as a reaper. This was painful.

"I know who you are," the man said.

Grell pressed his hands to his head, shaking it furiously as he backed away. "No, no, stop."

The clicking of dress shoes told him the man had closed the distance between them once more. "What's the matter with you? As I now recall, I could hardly rid myself of you when I tried my best. This seems highly uncharacteristic."

"Stop, it hurts."

Strong hands seized his shoulders. "No, you stop. Why don't you want to remember?"

Grell looked between his fingers at the tall man...William, wasn't it? The sight of him seemed to collapse a dam that let a flood of memories come pouring out. They had known each other for awhile in their human lives but there was something not right. These memories were missing something, someone. There had been someone else that made him feel this way but every time he reached for those memories, it was as if he had been stabbed. His head pounded the harder he tried to reach for them. Even when he didn't, he felt that pain every time his memories of William intersected with those of a faceless stranger. The two of them had something in common, this other man and William, if he could only figure out what.

"I can't," he said to himself, though William seemed to take this as an answer to his earlier question.

"I know you better than you know yourself. I can help you remember...I owe you that much." His surroundings had come back into focus, the assault on his mind having subsided, so Grell waited in silence for him to continue. "You consider yourself a woman."

Grell put a hand on his hip and sighed. "Anyone who passes me on the sidewalk can tell that much. I already knew that, thank you very much. And you can check yourself, mister, because I am a woman. I just have the wrong parts."

"Can anyone who passes you on the sidewalk tell you what color your eyes were when you were human?" William's voice was flat and business like, but in his own eyes Grell saw a silent plea.

Grell ducked his head against an especially strong gust of wind. "Okay then big boy, lay it on me."

"Most people would say you had green eyes, but they were actually hazel. They were more green when you were angry or excited which was all the time, so I could understand the common misconception about their color."

He could now remember vividly how he had sought William's affections and how often he was rejected. He'd never known the man paid this much attention to him. William's eyes had always been fixed to his paperwork, barely wasting a second glance on Grell.

William moved his hands down Grell's shoulders to his wrists, which he held gently as he pulled Grell a bit closer. "You could sing like an angel."

"I'm no angel, darling."

"Oh, I remember that quite well."

The faintest smile pulled at William's mouth, which Grell returned in full. He took William's hands as the final pieces came together. There was still a hazy figure out of his reach but he knew, now, what they shared. His love. It had been a destructive, toxic thing, but he had loved this man. He had given William his heart time and again, and gave it right back even when William refused it.

"So how did you die?" Grell asked, lacing his fingers with William's.

Before he could respond, a team of reapers from the retrieval division walked past, looking at them oddly and talking under their breath. Grell shot them a much dirtier look than they could match and smirked when they shut up. He turned back to see a bit of color in William's cheeks, a tic in his jaw. Then he realized William had retracted his hands and taken a step back.

"I have learned there is no place for emotion in our line of work. It is frowned upon to have such intimate contact amongst ourselves."

Grell laughed without humor. "I guess there was one last thing I forgot."

"What?"

"That you never change." He started backing away, and when Will did not reach for him under the watchful eyes of the reapers coming out of the building, he knew he was right. "It wasn't me that you hated, was it? It was yourself."

William pushed his glasses up his nose and averted his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I spent the first part of my life tortured by caring about what other people thought, until I realized that was no way to live. You never did figure that out, Will. It took us both dying for me to understand you. Eyes are the window to the soul, didn't you know that?"

"You're mad."

"There he is. There's the man who would rather act like you hated me than admit you were ashamed of loving me."

He left William in front of Dispatch. Will called his name, but did not follow him. Grell wanted to cry but it wasn't worth it. What was he losing, anyway? William was no different than the other people who treated him like a freak, he was just the one Grell had fallen in love with. Grell now remembered thinking he could change him, that William would warm up to him, but if death wasn't going to open Will's eyes then nothing would.

He waved his hand and opened a gateway to the human world before he could lose his resolve. Perhaps someone in this realm could help him out with the splitting headache he had. He wasn't good at opening gateways exactly where he wanted, and was even worse when he was ill so he had no idea where he was when he stepped into the human world. It was uncomfortably bright and there was a lot of voices.

"Madam, are you alright?" Grell turned around, and a doctor's cheeks turned bright pink. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Madam is fine."

The doctor was a vision in red from hair to lips to the blouse peaking out from under her coat. She was exquisite. "You look a bit pale, are you alright?" she repeated.

"I've got a killer headache, actually. Treating them myself was never a problem but-" See, now that I'm a grim reaper, human medicine doesn't work "-now they've gotten worse."

"I'm sure I have something for you. Come along, then."

Being in a hospital was comforting and sad at the same time. His new job was to harvest the souls of the dead rather than to keep people alive. He sat on the edge of an exam table and watched the woman unlock a cabinet. She was lovely but her eyes carried immense pain, making him wonder what tragedies would play out on her cinematic record one day. He would like to see it. She seemed like she had lived an interesting life.

"I don't believe I got your name," she said.

He jumped and his stomach flipped with guilt when he realized he had just been daydreaming about this kind woman's death. The end of human life had become something of a fascination to him, if not an unhealthy one. He accepted the remedy offered to him and thanked her for the glass of water she placed in his hands. Its refreshing taste was a pointed reminder that death gods still had to eat and drink.

"Grell. Yours?"

She took his hand gently enough to be ladylike, but with enough force to tell him she was no ordinary woman. Her touch was akin to an electric shock. As he raised it to his lips he could not shake the feeling this was no chance meeting, and that he had found a kindred spirit like no other.

"Angelina, but my friends call me Madam Red."

Ciel was awoken by sunlight in his face. He groaned and tried to pull his pillow over his head, but it was taken away before he had the chance. He cracked his eye open to glare at his butler. Sebastian stood over him, holding his pillow with an unapologetic smile.

"You must rise and-"

"Greet the day, yes, because I don't recall those instructions from the past ninety-six times you've woken me in the morning."

"You keep count? I'm flattered."

"In your dreams."

"You indeed lurk there, but only in my darkest, most lewd-"

"No!"

Sebastian stopped leaning closer and sighed. "Very well."

Ciel sat on the edge of the bed while Sebastian dressed him, knowing if he heard a detailed account of the kind of dreams his butler had concerning him, his clothes would miraculously wind up somewhere that wasn't his body. Sebastian was one hell of a sneaky bastard.

"I have prepared your schedule for the day."

Ciel raised his cup of tea to his lips. "Alright."

"Your music lesson is after breakfast, followed by a brief study in English literature. The rest of your day has been left open to allow you plenty of time to prepare for meeting your betrothed."

If Sebastian was vexed by having to dodge the mouthful of hot tea Ciel spit out, he didn't show it. "My who?"

"Betrothed, my lord. Pronounced bee like those that buzz about in the garden, and-ow, my lord."

Ciel did more damage to himself than anyone by slapping Sebastian, but at least he felt better inwardly. "I don't want one."

"You have never sounded more adorably like a child, young master."

"Don't patronize me! This is serious, I have enough to worry about without having a fiance."

Sebastian tied his shoes and stood up. His eyes had taken on a certain melancholy. "I humbly beg your pardon."

Ciel placed his empty tea cup on the tray. He spent a few minutes tracing the intricate pattern of thorned roses on the china. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise that he would be meeting her, he just hadn't given much thought to it. He had assessed every expectation of his new title save for that one. He was the Earl of an old, noble family, of course he would be married off. He grimaced and stood up. He felt like cattle being farmed off to the highest bidder.

He left the bedroom with Sebastian close behind him. When they reached the main hall, he caught Sebastian's cuff before he could depart to the kitchen. "Hey."

"My lord?"

"I don't know what has you so preoccupied, but I need your help today so get your head out of the clouds."

"Yes, my lord."

Growing more impatient with his butler's behavior, Ciel released his sleeve with a scowl. "What's the matter with you?" he called out as Sebastian began walking away.

Sebastian looked over his shoulder and spoke softly, as his words couldn't be heard by the rest of the staff, the words so quiet Ciel could barely hear them himself. "Forgive me if I lack enthusiasm for your marriage to someone else."

Ciel was left in the main hall with his foot firmly planted in his mouth. He hadn't thought once about how Sebastian felt about this, not as his butler but as his lover. He sighed and went to sit with his mother at the table in the dining hall. Having a fiance wouldn't truly change anything. It wasn't as if he could marry Sebastian (not that he would entertain such a thing, he was still a little sore about Sebastian eating his father's soul) but once he was made to marry his betrothed, he would have to consummate their union and have children with her one day.

"Good morning, dear," Rachel said.

"Good morning."

They didn't spend much time together anymore. She had never been the same since Vincent died, and she tried her best to mother Ciel but he didn't care for being doted on. She was always going off to one room or another with a feather duster or polish no matter how many times the servants said they would tend to the cleaning. Ciel told them to let her do as she wished, for tidying up the manor seemed to be the only thing that brought her any comfort now.

He also felt sympathy for her, not only because she was his mother and the only family he had left, but because he had not been in a much better state when he thought Sebastian was lost to him forever. Distraction from the pain was all he had sought. He twisted his ring and stared at the grain running down the oak table. He wouldn't marry Sebastian if such a thing was possible, definitely not.

He shut down that train of thought and didn't return to it for the rest of the day. Sebastian did not seem angry with him, but they didn't speak much. He would have begged for Sebastian's teasing and mockery rather than this deafening silence if he had not learned to hide his emotions behind a wall of stone. This was a situation to handle with logic, it wasn't a matter of the heart. Having a betrothed was business. He wouldn't have to get married for awhile anyway.

The early evening found Lady Elizabeth Midford entering the foyer like a lamb among so many wolves. Ciel was dressed in the finest clothes his tailor could offer, and approached her with minimal assistance from his cane. Sebastian took her coat and excused himself with a bow. She turned deep green eyes on Ciel and curtsied. In another life, Ciel could have found her beautiful.

"My lord."

Ciel cringed at her voice but did not show it. "My lady. Please, it's Ciel."

She giggled and blushed when he kissed her hand. Her mother waited behind her with a hard stare. Ciel greeted her with equal courtesy, and though Marchioness Midford did not warm as quickly as her daughter, her disapproval seemed to lesson by a fraction.

The servants were on their toes while they served dinner. Mey-Rin managed to pour their drinks without spilling or breaking everything, and Baldo had reluctantly agreed to Sebastian's order to not lay one finger on the meal. Their meat was garnished with fresh herbs Finnian had harvested that morning and simply melted on the tongue. Ciel would expect no less from his demon butler.

The Marchioness became solemn when she offered her condolences for Vincent. It was during this conversation that Ciel discovered Elizabeth was his cousin, but they were only just now meeting because she had been overseas with her family for some time. She asked him silly questions like what his favorite game had been as a child and what his favorite color was, but he gladly answered them in favor of participating in the conversation about his father. It was the single topic on which he still struggled to remain composed. He humored her with lies, as he had only played one game in his childhood, and he had no favorite color.

Over dessert Ciel charmed her as if he had eyes for no other, all while keeping it respectful and innocent under her mother's watchful eye. Elizabeth seemed to be floating on a cloud when Ciel said his goodbyes at her carriage. Even her mother had let a couple smiles slip throughout the evening. Sebastian stood next to him as they watched the carriage disappear down the winding road to Phantomhive Manor. The first flakes of winter snow had started to fall.

"If I didn't know any better, even I would be convinced you enjoyed Lady Elizabeth's company. Your skills of deception impress me."

Ciel smirked. "I learned from the best."

They looked at each other through the growing flurry of white. At one time he might have felt guilt for ensnaring the girl with such ease, but he could only muster slight pity. The Phantomhives were not known for their kindness and morality. They were guard dogs to the Queen, Aristocrats of Evil, and as such had pulled that naive girl into their world for their own needs as his family had done many others. She was merely a pawn on his board.

It was hard to imagine loving a pure spirit such as hers, when he had a devil at his side. Sebastian loved him for even the darkest parts of his soul. If anything, they seemed to be his favorite.

"This ring is a serious violation of whatever rules the reapers have in place. They won't quit until they destroy it, will they?" he asked.

Sebastian glanced down to the stone on his master's finger. "No, I don't believe they will."

"Then I suppose we'll have to destroy them first. I trust this is within your capabilities."

Sebastian's glowing eyes were the only thing Ciel could see in the heavy snow, but he could tell the butler was smiling. "Of course, my lord."

(((())))

"Will you stay, even if it hurts?

Even if I try to push you out will you return,

And remind me who I really am,

Please remind me who I really am

Everybody's got a dark side

Do you love me, can you love mine?"