A/N: Hello again. New chapter. In which, as promised, we get a little darker and I get all guilty and depressing inside Eric's mind. And Michelle is Michelle and Alan is totally cute and sweet. For public information, I've got my shifts changed (not particularly willingly, but there's a pay raise involved) so updates may be a bit irregular for the next week or so while I figure out how to shift everything all around and get everything balanced again. Hopefully, I'll manage to be getting up a chapter every other day. Anyway, thank you for all your lovely reviews (over 100!) and please keep them coming.

"Eric," Alan murmured.

"Shh, sweetheart," Eric whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Go back to sleep. I've got some errands to run."

Alan sighed and shifted slightly, pulling the covers up tighter around him. "Errands?"

"I want to look into what William said about Ron yesterday," he said, getting up and dressed. "If his suspicions are correct then we've got a serious issue."

"Want me to come with you?" Alan offered.

"No, you stay and sleep a bit more," he chuckled. "You need it, you were exhausted last night."

"Don't tease me."

"I'm not. I gave you a very thorough work out, it's a good idea to sleep. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. It won't take long. I'll bribe Michelle into helping me."

"Don't get too involved with her, love," Alan sighed, already half asleep. "She might be a nice girl, but she'd not safe. I don't want..." He yawned and closed his eyes. "I don't want you to get involved in that sort of thing. What would Ronald think of his big brother getting in trouble for corruption and blackmail?"

Eric laughed and glanced away. It was the murder part he should have been worried about. Blackmail and corruption were unlikely to get him killed. He smiled and kissed his cheek before heading for the door.

"I'll be back soon."

Eric sighed and left quietly. Michelle was waiting for him outside. She smiled. The snow had stopped and melted away but instead there was rain pelting down and howling gales. She held out an umbrella for him. They were going to the human world early to make up for not collecting any souls the day before. He felt bad for lying to Alan, but then, he'd been lying to him for so long already. It was so minor after all, he was killing why should he be bothered by lies? Maybe because he'd promised never to lie to him again.

"You know," Eric said quietly. "He made me promise him in the church that I would never hurt Ron, that I wouldn't lie and I'd never break my promises."

"Well, two out of three," Michelle muttered, looking around the human streets. "Why would he want you to promise that anyway? Does he suspect?"

"No, I don't think so," he said quietly. "But Ron had that nightmare about the Thorns and the stories and that I'd killed him for the last soul and that made Alan all paranoid. He said he could forgive almost anything as long as I never lied, never hurt Ronald and never broke my promises."

"You can't tell him," she snapped.

"No, I know," he said, pushing his free hand into his pocket. "Not yet anyway-"

"Never, Eric. He won't understand. People say they'll forgive you, but they won't."

"Alan might."

"Eric." He growled and Michelle glared up at him. "It won't ever work, Eric. Think about it. Will Alan ever be comfortable around you again knowing what you've done or do you think that every time he'd look at you he'd see the fact that you kill one thousand people? When you tell him, he will never look at you the same way again. Even if he doesn't leave you there and then, it will slowly build and it will always be there. And if he does eventually forgive you, things will never be the same. Cherish this time with him while you have it. It's not going to be forever."

"I know," Eric said. "I'd take my time and collect the souls slowly like I used to but his attacks are getting worse and I don't think he has that much time. He's running out of time."

"Then we should get to work," Michelle said. "Here."

Eric frowned and glanced up. "A work house?"

"A small one, don't want to attract too much attention. There must be at least a hundred souls in there, if not more," she said, elbowing him. "And they'll all be asleep, right? I mean it's..." She pulled out a delicate little pocket watch and smiled. "Almost half four. Who's up this early? It'll be easy and I'll clean up after you."

"How on earth are you going to cover entire workhouse dying?" he snapped.

Michelle smiled and shook a box of matched. "Flames are so beautiful, don't you think?"

"You're going to burn the place down?"

"Don't worry, it's not like it's murder. They'll already be dead. It's just making sure that no one will figure out it's us. Or you at least. Don't worry, it'll look like a demon feasting. No one's ever going to blame you as long as I can still do something to protect you."

"You mean it?"

"Silly, of course I do. Come on, let's get on with this before your cute little lover sees your missing and tries to find you."

"Yeah... let's go..." He sighed and set down his umbrella just inside the doorway. "Michelle, are there kids here?"

"Probably," Michelle said. "You can do it right? This isn't going to be a problem?"

"No." He hoped he sounded like he meant it. He was still trying to convince himself. "Just... you'll be there to give me a little push when I need it, right?"

"Yes. Always. Now stop making noise and get on with it. Just think about Alan."

He nodded and turned away, playing nervously with his scythe. Michelle followed him quietly, nudging him on when he hesitated, looking through the few possessions the residents had and taking anything that looked of value. Eric frowned as she found a bottle of perfume tucked under the layers of one woman's dress- probably something the woman had kept safe for years. It was barely used and really expensive in the human world. Michelle frowned and smelt the cap, before cutting the top open on Eric's scythe and pouring it over her.

"Do you have no respect for the dead?" he hissed, snatching his scythe back.

"Darling, do you want to be caught?" Michelle snapped.

"No, but that woman probably saved for years for that," Eric snarled, taking another soul while he was distracted. He had to be distracted. He had to be distracted when taking the soul of a child. It still made him feel sick. "What's the point of doing that? She's dead, what's the harm in letting her keep it?"

"She saved so long, let her wear it in death, huh?" she said with a shrug. "Plus, it's probably got a load of alcohol in, it'll burn well. Come on, Eric, stop thinking about these people as people. They're not. Every one you kill is just one step closer to saving your dear Alan. Right? They're nothing more that vaccine. You know, I was thinking. Making it look like an obvious demon attack might draw in Phantomhive and his demon. If there's one warning the Undertaker gave us we should pay attention to, it's not getting the Phantomhive demon involved. So, let's leave signs for the reapers that it's a demon attack and let the humans believe it was insurance fraud."

Eric nodded slightly. She was right. He knew she was right. He had to stop thinking about these people and just think about Alan. "It's sickening how cold you can be."

"I know. You'll learn. Are we done in here?"

"Yes..."

Michelle smiled and struck a match, dropping on heap of clothes and bodies. Eric sighed and turned away, following her out as the flames took hold. They'd gathered forty five souls from the past two rooms and there was one more to go. It was a good amount of souls but Eric could almost feel himself being dragged closer to hell with everyone he took. These poor, homeless people would all die in their sleep and then burn to a crisp, lucky if there was anyone to care if there was a body left over or not. It was disgusting.

His thoughts drifted to what William had said the day before as he dealt with the last room, about suspecting Ronald had somehow been involved in the whole mess surrounding Richard St John. No one who wasn't directly involved knew all the details. It was kept incredibly quiet- probably because management was ashamed. People had said they'd been told over and over that something was happening but didn't act until someone was dead. There were no official victim lists, or word on what he'd actually done, just that there was a serious breach of their laws and he was to be locked up for the rest of his life. There were rumours though. Lots of rumours.

Some people said he was having relationships with the students, others said he was trading sex for decent jobs and grades, none of which were very good but weren't that serious. It was the worse rumours that most people believed given how any confirmed victims were whisked away and hidden from the public. People said that he had taken students on the promise of tutoring and had abused them physically and mentally and...

"Eric," Michelle snapped, grabbing his wrist.

Eric blinked and glanced down at her. She was glaring at his scythe. He frowned and turned, then realised what he was about to do. At the speed and angle he'd been going he wouldn't have simply captured the man's soul he'd have taken his head clean off. And that would ruin their cover story. He sighed and whipped the scythe across his chest, collecting his soul and turning away.

There was no way he wanted to think about Ronald being put through anything of those stories. None of them bore thinking about. He sighed and shook his head, feeling a sudden burst of heat from the room behind him. Michelle was at his side moments later.

"What are you thinking about?" she said.

"Ron," he muttered.

"Not Alan?" she said quietly.

"No... did you hear what William said yesterday?" he said. She shook her head. "While you were away, did you hear about a man named Richard St John?"

"Bits and pieces. What's that got to do with Ronald?"

"William can't prove it but he thinks Ronald might have been a victim."

"No proof?"

"He won't say a word about it and most the records are kept blanked out and restricted."

She nodded slowly and Eric slowly followed her out. He couldn't look back. He knew the workhouse was in flames and all the innocent humans who didn't deserve to die and weren't scheduled to die. Michelle was walking backwards, watching the flames. He glanced at her. The flames were reflected in her eyes and glasses. He swallowed heavily.

"I know I'm pretty, Eric, no need to stare," Michelle laughed.

"Sutcliff certainly seems to think so," Eric muttered. "Either that or your just too cruel and wicked for him to resist. Judging by what you just did, I'd say the latter."

"That's mean, Eric."

Eric nodded and tried to ignore how horrible he felt. How he was going to sleep again was beyond him. He should never be allowed to touch Alan again. Alan was so innocent and kind and compassionate and he... he was a killer. There was no denying it. He was a killer. There was blood on his hands, he should never be allowed to put those filthy hands on Alan again.

Michelle stopped off in his office and there was a box with a ribbon around it. She smiled and looked over the note attached. Eric frowned and took it from her. 'I want the Richard St John report' scribbled in William's hand writing. Even his scribbles were perfect, Eric noticed.

"He remembered," Michelle giggled.

"What?" Eric said.

"Will, he remembered my brand," she said. She pulled a pretty glass bottle from the box. Perfume? "It's been forever. I can't find anything like this in the human world. I love it. I spent forever finding one I liked and Will bought it for me the first time. He must be desperate if he's bribing me with this."

"Do you think you can do it? I'd like to see if too." Michelle grinned and Eric knew she was going to do it. "Show me when you get it."

"Sure, Eric. You should get back to your little darling Alan."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll see you later."

Eric did as she suggested and returned home. Alan was sleeping peacefully despite the racket the weather was making. He sighed. He was beautiful. Like some sort of angel. He sighed and rested his chin on his knees. He had taken nearly sixty souls that night. That was good. He told himself that was good. He was around two hundred and fifty now. Things were moving quickly now he was working with Michelle. He could take more souls in one go than she ever had, but she was merely tossing them to demons from the list. He was far stronger than she was but he had no idea how to cover his tracks like Michelle did. She would keep him safe from discovery.

The only problem was the more he killed the more he could simply blank it out and detach himself from what he'd done. He didn't want to become as cold and uncaring as Michelle. She was friendly and kind to her friends, yes, and she'd been nothing but helpful to Eric in his quest to gather souls. She pushed him when he needed it. But... she cared nothing for anyone who wasn't important to her. It was like she gave everything or nothing. Watching her shuffle through the victims' things and dump anything of value in the owner's office and how she simply set alight the corpses like they were nothing more than kindling. What if they'd missed someone? What if someone in there had actually burnt to death? Eric shook his head quickly. He never wanted to be able to kill like Michelle. He needed to feel that guilt. If he stopped feeling guilty and stopped caring that he'd snatched away those people's lives early then he may as well give up on everything. Even if Alan would forgive him for trying to save him- he might even forgive him lying to him- he could never love a monster who felt nothing as he killed. Alan was so compassionate. He felt sorry for the souls that died on time. What would he think if he knew?

"Eric?" Alan said, opening his eyes slightly. His gaze fell on him and he smiled drowsily. "Hey, there you are. Come here." He patted the bed next to him. "Come on, the bed feels way too big without you."

"In a min, sweetheart," he whispered hoarsely. "It's cold and wet out there. I need to get out of these clothes and I'm going to have quick shower, ok?"

"Alright..." Alan muttered, pouting slightly. "Hurry back, ok love?"

"Of course."

Alan smiled and closed his eyes again before Eric got up and went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He shoved the clothes he'd been wearing into a rubbish back- all of it, shoes, gloves, underwear, everything- and tied it tight. He was going to drop it in a river, or burn it or something, he wasn't sure yet, but he was getting rid of it all. They were covered in the stench of death- murder.

He smelt of smoke too. He was sure he smelt of smoke. No matter how hard he scrubbed he couldn't seem to get the smell off. Smoke, blood, and burning flesh. He ran his hands through his hair, dimly noticing they were shaking. How did Michelle do this? Over the noise of the shower, he could hear scream. The screams of the people he'd killed.

"Try to stay rational," Michelle had told him on one of their trips. "Don't let it start freaking you out. Remember what happened. Don't let it start to feel worse than it is. They died peacefully and painlessly. Most with a smile or in their sleep. We're not going to get many screamers. If you hear wailing or screaming, you need to take a few deep breaths and remember you're doing it for Alan. Think about how he sounds when he's having an attack."

She was right. The only two people who screamed were those poor boys in the park. The ones who looked like Ronald and Alan. He shook his head and opened his eyes. Everything went quiet again. Eric glanced around the room. Nothing. They hadn't screamed. Alan would. Everyone had warned them. Alan's death was highly unlikely to be peaceful and in his sleep. God, he wanted to think Alan would pass in his sleep. Or that it would be painless and short. It wouldn't though. Alan would have an attack, one more painful and horrific than any before. He would die in pain, barely able to breath and his heart struggling to beat. He clenched his fists and punched the wall without thinking, ignoring the jarring pain that shot through his arm. It was nothing compared to what Alan felt. He could never share Alan's pain.

These souls were his only hope.

He returned to the bedroom and Alan opened his eyes as the door shut, raising an eyebrow slightly. "You're not wearing much, love. Got something planned?"

Eric sat over him on the bed, entwining their finger on one hand and covering Alan's mouth with his. He didn't deserve Alan but Alan loved him. He couldn't shatter Alan's heart like that. If Alan knew what he was, what he'd done, it would ruin him. No, he had to make Alan happy. Keep him happy. The little brunette moaned slightly as Eric's free hand trailed over his torso, unbuttoning his pyjama top as he went.

"Eric," Alan breathed as he kissed along his jaw. "What's gotten into you? What's the rush?" Eric growled lustfully, unable to say anything but moving his hot, wet kisses down his neck and to that one spot just below Alan's collar bone that made his squirm. "O-ok... Eric... ok... just slow down a little, love..."

He loved how breathy Alan's voice got when he was trying not to show how turned on he was. Although, that was hardly saying anything. He loved everything about Alan. He squeezed his hand tighter as his hand trailed down to Alan's bottom, pulling them away slightly. Alan gasped and tossed his head back and Eric smiled, slowly kissing lower as Alan tangling his free hand into his hair.

"Eric love," he moaned. "I'm so glad I get to live out my life with you." He closed his eyes for a moment and Alan squeezed his hand when he stopped his teasing kisses. He looked up slowly and Alan smiled gently, stroking his cheek. "It's ok, love. You're kind of like pay back for the Thorns. Life made me sick, I'm going to die, I know that, but in return, I get you."

"Don't," he whispered. "I'm not worth that much. I can't make up for that."

"You're so silly, Eric," he giggled. "Don't look at me like that. Now, you were about to make love to me, darling. Don't stop now."