Out of the ashes

by Disneyholica24

After Ciel dies, his servants are left in an awful state with only the level-headed Bardroy still lingering in the real world. Then one day he snaps them back to reality in the only way he can, with force. Now that they are back on solid ground, what will they do with their time at the manor? What will become of them? What does the future hold for this trio?

It was to be a joyous occasion. A carnival was in town and the fee was inexpensive. Jugglers, street performers, and acrobats donned in all sorts of colorful array were leaping showily in the streets while trumpets blared, and doves flew announcing the arrival of the Carneval Mysterio. Caravans with beautiful and exotic Romani women peddling their unusual herbs, the powerful and elegant Irish Cobs pulling the carts with jingling bells attached to their reigns.

There were those that could swallow swords and those that could seemingly breathe fire. All of which enchanted and delighted the anxious group of Englishmen and women and especially the children. There was much more in store for those that came to their fair grounds and attended the shows. There would be prizes galore, fare which was unusual and appealing to the palate- all handheld for convenience, and games to play.

Everyone seemed so at awe and so very excited to go, children pulling on their mother's dresses, begging and promising lies that they would behave and not run off. Who could resist such sweet temptation? Just the sight of all this flair and fantastical preshow entertainment was enough to bring a smile to any sullen face. Almost any. There were those that could not be put in high spirits no matter what festivities went outside the door.

Up the winding road was a large patch of land gated from the outside. What lie beyond those large silvery gates? If one was standing there before them they would see it. Standing tall and widely stretching was a stately manor, perhaps one of the most impressive and reverent of all of the ones that existed in that country in the time. The gardens were massive, sprawling and beauteous with so many different types of flora all so sweetly scented that even from the gates one could detect the smell of magnolias.

The grass was rather tall and a trite overwatered and the fruit bearing trees needed a pruning but for what it was it was impressive. If you were to take a step inside this abode you would take a step back for as wide-eyed you might be at the exterior the interior was far regaler and breath taking than one could fathom. Each intricate detail from the spiraling stair case to the oil paintings on the walls was exquisite. The chandelier made of pure crystal, the brass and gold handles of all the doors, the cherry and mahogany wood was spotless, the fireplace clean of any cokes, the dining room was of great size enough to fit over twelve guests comfortable upon the plush velvet chairs.

There were many superb things in this manor and all of it kept in tip top shape by the three servants who resided there. One of which was in the galley. He was the chef, as his white coat would tell from a glance. A tall man with bulk to him that most British males did not carry for he was in fact of American decent, both thoroughly western and southern to his core. His forearms when exposed had some wiry light-yellow hairs on them copying the color of the hair on his head which was always unkempt even now. If he were to show off his chest he had hair there too which put some off and on his back scars from the war he had fought and lost. It seemed a long time ago yet fresh in his memory that he was called into duty in a feud amongst quarrelling families with friends and cousins all getting involved.

What started as fuming words between gritted teeth ended up on the loss of so many. The man, named Bardroy, was related to those that had died in the bloody gun show. He lost many family members, comrades, troop leaders, father figures, brothers in arms, and close companions from his school days. It was then that he started getting PTSD and to cope with it and the tremors he started to take up smoking. It took no time for him to get addicted to it and unless bathing or sleeping he would always be seen with one lazily hanging from his mouth with a cartridge in his pocket. He didn't have much family left and so when he was taken here to come work he left them behind, only writing to them in his spare time. He had made a note to give them a visit should he ever been given a holiday. Now that chance was gone along with more of his family. His teal eyes looked out the window from the kitchen taking a long reflecting drag of the cigarette in his mouth. The smoke filled his lungs and the toxins in his brain, but the nightmares often would still crop up in his head, try as he might to suppress them.

Booze often did the trick and he thought about getting completely sodden tonight. He would have gone into town to find some guys to grab a pint with, but he didn't want to leave this place. Correction, he did but he couldn't. There were two people here that were halting him from drowning his sorrows or living freely. Like most of the workers here he was usually upbeat but as the days rolled by since the event and days turned into months, he became more sullen.

It was less of what happened that made him this way and more the response of those around him. His story was that when he was covered in crimson in the trenches surrounded by the fallen corpses of those he cared for most he was saved from the torment of either suicide or carrion by a suited black wearing man with eyes like a fiery dawn. He called himself Sebastian Michealis, a man shrouded in mystery with a genteel suaveness to his voice, a deep seducing tone that implied things.

Regardless of how utterly unfathomable and outright dominating the overall aura of the man was Bardroy would take any chance to get away from all of this. He had never been a cook, the females were the one who did that around the farm while the men did the cattle roping and occasional harvesting, but he would give it a whirl anyways, not that he cared one way or the other. The man could have asked him to stand on his head for all eternity and he would have leapt at the chance. Once settled into this gob smackingly spacious manor he met the young master, a tiny tidy thing with blue everything it seemed. Hair tinted with blue, clothes dyed with blue, and one eye that was a dim but somehow shiny blue. The other eye was covered by a patch for which the origin was not known at the time to the new servant.

The name was Ciel Phantomhive, a name which took the American some time to learn to pronounce. Inevitably it was meaningless because he ended up calling him master anyways. He was then assigned to his station which would soon become his domain and shown to his quarters, with two simple cots one for him and one for the other one who would be bunking with him. Bardroy was introduced to the others he would be working with. There was a young lad who would be the one sleeping in the room with him. He had a dead and frankly saddened look to his blue-green eyes and not a hair on him save for his strawberry blonde eyebrows. He had to be about fourteen or fifteen, but his stature and voice made him seem so much more innocent than the person they were to serve.

The other was a red headed woman who had a cold amber stare that pierced the soul, like the eyes of a wild animal with the color of a bullet shell. She was holding two large spectacles in her hand and inspecting them greatly, only raising her eyes fleetingly to meet his and nod at him. To him she was gorgeous and dangerous, like the guns he learned to adore. The child, standoffish and quiet but that was soon to change.

Over time thanks to the helpful teachings of the butler called Sebastian and some pointers by the quirky elder steward the ragtag team of misfits with scarred pasts and scarred hearts began to get a firm hold on their jobs but ever still barely spoke to one another. The boy, named Finnian, his hair started to grow fast, like straws of gold wheat sprouting from his once bald head. He had to clip it back because of how much had grown.

That boy was as strong as Hercules with all the energetic youth and vigor of boyhood. The woman, Meyrin, was stealthy and silent like the ninja assassin she proclaimed to be and was an expert markswoman, never missing a shot and reloading so fast you would blink and already be down. At least that is how she was with her glasses off with them on her voice became strained and awkward, a thick cockney accent spilling from her throat. It was humorous to say the least but made her an unexpected killer for no one could manage to think a mousy, clumsy person like that would ever end them.

One night after a long day of getting scolded by the bastard of a butler about how to boil potatoes or some such thing Bardroy tumbled into bed, still steaming from the shower he took. He groaned achingly as he threw his towel into the corner of the room. His side of the room was the messiest and his clothing was always wrinkled or spotted with dirt despite that being the worst thing for a chef's coat to be. He didn't care at all about cleanliness or giving anyone his ear. He barely respected the guy and found him to be a show off. He was also too damn handsome for his own good and stole away the attention of any and all women, not that Bard had time for them himself, but he was still bitter about it. He laid upon the bed full intent on getting a good night's sleep and dreading the process all over again but then Finnian, or Finny as he was more commonly known, piped up.

"Hey…um Bard is it...?"

"Yeah?" He answered albeit a bit gruffly from his side of the bed. He hadn't the patience nor was he nearly awake enough for idle chit chat with children.

"Do you like it here so far? I was wondering how you were getting on, you know."

"It's alright, I guess. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. You seemed so lonesome. We three don't talk to each other much. I've been wanting to say hello for some time, but I was nervous. The maid and I have spoken a little. Mr. Sebastian and I have also talked too. He seems awful nice."

"Ain't much to talk about around here, boy, so there's no use in talking. I like to be alone anyways."

"Oh no, Mister Bard. Nobody should be alone! It's right sad that's what it is. Everyone should have a friend. I'd like to be your friend. If I could I'd reach out and hug the whole world!"

"Finny, with your strength you'd crush the world if you hugged it," Bard joked, snickering a bit. Ever still he was feeling soft after hearing the boy extend out a hand in friendship. It had been eons since he had a friend, most of his were gone and not even properly buried, he'd wager.

"I know… I wish I wasn't so strong sometimes because I'm scared that I'll hurt people but I'm learning day by day to control it and the young master needs me to be like this to protect him. He gave me my name, he gave me a home, and he gave me freedom. I owe him my life. What about you? I don't know your story."

"It's…best you don't. You are too young to know it."

"Did something really bad happen? Someone you love die?"

Bard flinched. Finnian had hit a raw nerve. The boy, despite his obvious lack of intellect and naivete, seemed to understand without getting a response. There was a sound of the bed creaking under him and Bard thought he was going to finally let sleeping dogs lie but no such luck. The tender hand of the child pat his head and calmly, soothingly said there there.

"Oi I'm not a baby you know!" He yelled out, whipping his head around to face the tow-headed youth. He recoiled his arm back and pouted his lower lip. His puppy dog eyes seemed to begin to water.

"I meant no harm by it. I just know how it is to lose someone. I didn't know their names, but I had what you would call friends in the lab. The doctor, he shot them in front of me. Meyrin will only say she hurt people and go no further than that. At night I hear you crying, sometimes you wake up screaming but I don't say anything. I lie there and pretend to be asleep. You toss, and you turn and say no please no. It's so hard to listen to. It must be harder to endure whatever pain you have all alone. I want us to be a family. The young master, Mister Sebastian, all of us. We'll all be there for each other, forever."

Bard stared at the little one that stood there before his bed, offering up something more than the butler had initially. He wanted to give him some solace and comfort in the wandering darkness of his mind. Provide them with stability. Perhaps after all that is what the butler wanted too and his master, to give them all a new life. An escape from tragedy an escape from the nightmares that plagued the three and most assumedly plagued the child earl who had lost his family too. He told Finny thank you and smiled at him as best he could.

From that day forward there became a companionship in the trio. They were now speaking to one another, interacting pleasantly, fighting side by side dynamically like clockwork, screwing up together and striving together through the thickest of times. Sebastian became a role model to Bard instead of an annoyance and he admired him.

Soon he valued the man and all he had done for them, never giving up on them and making sure they were well provided for and taught many a lesson they would not forget. He was firm but fair, a steadfast general and a master at all things. His own master was someone Bard started to also take a shine to. Eventually the trio became his new troops and the household his new family. From Tanaka to Finny, they were all together as one. It seemed nothing could tear them apart. Bard should have known better. Nothing ever lasts forever, he saw to that in the war. One moment the young blue-eyed earl was there and the next moment his life snuffed out like a candle. Gone. With it went the stoic ravenette Sebastian disappearing like a mist that had rolled in only leaving behind the memory of him.

Tanaka eventually left too, not wanting to stay in a house so filled with the memories of the many deaths of the people inside of it and all the rage and sorrow contained in the walls. Bard would have gladly joined them, there was no purpose now, no point but he found he couldn't. He couldn't just leave behind all that Ciel had worked so hard for, that he built with his own hands from the ground up and at such a young age. That child had more bollocks than any man could ever boast about with a pride so massive it couldn't fit in such a small frame. No, it was utterly disrespectful to leave it all behind, leave his life's work to crumble into disrepair and the plants and ivies to grow wild and overtake the house, for the barnyard animals to run ramped and destroy everything, for the fruit to rot and flies to buzz around the place, and dust to settle until all was just a relic of the past like some over fanciful tomb.

It didn't sit right with anyone. Regardless Bard still thought he should pack up and leave but not just him, all of them. He would take them with him abroad, they could live with him. He was sure Finny would love to see the ranch and play with the animals and would adore the cacti because they were plants that he couldn't touch so therefore couldn't harm nor could they easily die. His remaining relatives would dote on the boy and over feed him, pinching his cheeks endlessly as he stuffed his face with mom's signature sweet rolls. Meyrin would have her own personal bedroom of course, the one that overlooked the sunset. Given her gunmanship she could get rid of any varmints that dared cross them and vermin too.

Bard wasn't keen on the rattlers that would creep into the house occasionally. He could imagine how the guys would react to her shooting skills, she'd be the talk of the range, a real slue foot Sally and he her Pecos Bill. They'd ride out together and catch wily banditos and collect bounties. Eventually he'd like to, well, start up something with her. It wasn't very professional as they were co-workers and she a dear friend of his, but he's always had a fondness for her. More than a fondness really. Had they not been workmates he would have tried to court her, but she had eyes for the butler. With him gone and them not working anymore surely something would blossom between them.

However, all for not. All wild fantasy about escaping to his homeland and starting up a new life with the two ended entirely. On top of the guilt he would feel leaving this place behind there was something else. The two would not budge from here. This was the only home they had ever known and the only family they had. He could well understand that. Meyrin having not even remembered who her parents were and Finny wasn't sure if he ever had any either. Now they had no one so he supposed they wanted to just sit put where they had spent their lives at most. He guessed that was alright. Not exactly his plan but alright.

However, it became increasingly apparent that things were far from what he had assumed. Instead of moving on with their lives but still living here it was as if someone had put a spell on them. They continued to do their daily tasks as if nothing had changed almost in a trance. It would have been fine and dandy if they were just keeping the place spic and span, after all it belonged to their previous employer and his abode should not become his mausoleum, rather a beacon that stood to remind people of his existence so no one would forget. They seemed to forget anyways. The reason they were doing it was not just for that, they seemed to be doing it because they had broken. They believed Sebastian would come back at some point and sometimes they acted as if the young master was still there, awaiting to be disappointed with them if the job was not done right.

So, Bard sat there with two wounded soldiers who were like ghosts lingering in their final resting place in search of a purpose in life. What was the man to do? He could only sit there and watch these lifeless zombies rot before him. All joy from their lives was sucked out and they didn't seek any more of it. He didn't even try to jostle them. Yes, he too was deeply mournful, but he had a way of not showing it. Besides it was past time for weeping at graves and time to go find something else to do. The master was buried, their butlers were gone. He couldn't shake them he could see that just by watching them. They were content to keep going on like this. It drove him mad. So as much as the cheery music outside blared happily it sounded like nothing to him, it gave him no feelings of giddiness. All he did was smoke and look out the window, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. The madness around him was enough to make him want to scream.

If he didn't care so much about these two he'd book it. At the very least he'd want to see them off into new jobs or nice homes. Not this. Anything but this. They were barely alive anymore. Sure, they had their moments that reminded him they indeed had a pulse but mostly they were robots. Finnian was outside in the garden planting some petunias, patting the soil carefully as he went along. He had gotten much better at this and more conscious with his strength.

Briefly he looked up and waved at Bard. He could only just barely wave back to him. Bard supposed he had better make lunch or the group were likely to starve. He didn't want to make anything though, he didn't have his usual pep or spark. He too had become sort of grey and dull like they did. So instead he walked a little in the empty home, taking it all in.

It was waste, that's what it was. Such a fine expensive place just sitting there, barely being used for anything. They were museum curators and this was their largest and most interesting piece of lost art. He sighed out a breath of smoke, traveling along into the hallway. The curtains were all drawn and leaking in the sunlight but as warm and an inviting as it was it felt cold to him.

Nothing felt real anymore, it was like living in some sort of horrible dream. Being stuck in this loop day in and day out. He was so lost in his thoughts that he collided with the maid who was carrying plates to the kitchen that had just been cleaned. She wobbled and bobbed before finally the worst happened, some of the plates, thankfully not all of them, went to the ground with a loud clatter. She winced at the sound and began to frantically panic about the mess she made.

"Oh what a clutz I am! I've dropped all the good dishes, I 'ave! Oh dearie me! I 'ave to pick up all the pieces now."

"Don't worry about it, Mey. I'll pick them up. You're carrying too many plates that's why this happened. I could carry some for ya."

"Thank you very much, Bard! I appreciate the 'elp. You sure you aren't ta busy?"

Bard stooped down and picked up the pieces, wrapping them in napkin and placing them in his pockets. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"What would I be busy with, exactly? There you are. All finished. Now let's take these plates to the kitchen, eh?"

He took about half of the plates that were obstructing her vision and carried them with her to the place they belonged. Talking helped ease the anguish that all of this crazy business caused. Hearing her silly voice also helped. They placed the plates down cautiously as not to further break any. He tried his best to smile in a satisfied way, but the smile didn't come to him naturally anymore. When he faced her he noticed that she had turned green and looked shocked or frightened. She was pointing with a quivering finger at the pile of dishes that sat there on the counter. When he looked over he noticed that the pearl white dinnerware was smeared with what looked like blood dripping down it. He put his hands to his face and realized the blood had come from him.

He must have cut his hand on one of the plate pieces, but he hadn't noticed it at all. He had been dealt a lot of cuts in his day from picking up shrapnel and handling swords, but it was beyond that. He just didn't feel much these days. He only existed, some anger inside of him boiling over and frustration. It infuriated him that they were like this. He wanted it to change because as it was now they weren't happy at all. Finny was the only one who still seemed to smile despite it all but that was his nature. He was so innocent and carefree and childlike he couldn't even tell what was wrong with what they were doing.

"B-B-Blood…oh sweet god the p-p-lates are c-covered w-with-"

She couldn't finish her sentence. Her face turned as pale and she looked as if she wanted to vomit from the sight of it. That was odd of her seeing as she was accustomed to seeing blood but perhaps because it was on the precious china she was appalled. She then started to realize where it had come from and turned from mortified to worrisome.

"Oh dear oh my. You've 'urt yourself! Let me find the first aid kit."

"Meyrin it's fine, really. Don't fuss over me."

Finnian had come inside, making sure to wipe his boots beforehand. He had heard a loud crash from outside and rushed in to make sure all was alright. He made his way to the kitchen where he heard the frantic voice of Meyrin. When he entered the kitchen he immediately noticed the blood trailing down from the plates.

"What happened?" His little voice quivered with fear.

"Just got a little cut Finny. No biggie."

"It's a big deal, Bard," Meyrin exclaimed searching around for the first aid kit. "You are bleeding everywhere. Aren't you in pain?"

"No not really. Suffered worse than this, that's for sure."

"Regardless you need to be bandaged up. Ah 'ere it is!"

Meyrin triumphantly pulled out the small white box marked in red 'First Aid' with a cross on it. Finny seemed relieved that she found it. He didn't want his friend to be hurt. Meyrin held out Bard's hands and found that only one of them had been cut the other just scratched a little. She wiped them down with a cloth that had a strange burning liquid on it then took her forefinger and placed cream on the wound. Then she wrapped it up with gauze.

"You really didn't have to do all that but thanks anyways."

"No biggie," Meyrin replied with a knowing grin. It was times like this Bard enjoyed the most, when they could go back and be themselves again. He wanted now more than ever to finally pull himself up by the bootstraps and get through to them. It had been long enough that he dealt with this.

"We should wash the plates. Finny you can 'elp me since Bard can't get his bandages wet. Let's 'urry on with it we wouldn't want Sebastian to be cross with us."

Bard's bottom eyelid twitched. That was it. That was the last straw. After so many days of going through with this and going on and on he had begun to lose his marbles carrying all the dead weight around here, the dead weight being those two. He had kept silent, to himself, letting all his emotions stir within him. He had no one to confide them to anymore and nothing he could do about them but let it stew.

He was a saint with his patience, waiting and seeing if they would change all on their own and wanting to at first give them some peace of mind after losing all that they clung to. Insanity took over him as he reverted back to his old ways of barely giving anyone the time of day only grudgingly giving up a few words when asked and trying his best to take whatever came his way to weather the storm as it were.

He was no sailor, though he did love the sea, he was not prepared for these rough tides. It was like tug of war and after tugging for so long the rope finally released from his dead tired hands. The struggle for control was over and now he tipped over the cliff. So in his anger he did something he would have never ever done otherwise. He reached back his bandaged hand and smacked Meyrin so hard across the face that her glasses came off and landed on the floor. They were still intact but that could not be said of her nor Finny who stood there in the doorway absolutely aghast.

Meyrin cried out in pain and shock, grasping her reddening cheek. Tears were spilling from her auburn eyes as she wailed helplessly. It had stung something fierce, but she wasn't just crying because of that. She was crying because he had done this to her. She felt betrayed almost and heart broken. She had trusted this man with her life, had let him protect her, had let him comfort her, had let him be her tutor, her guide, her best friend and then some. She would have died for him and he for her. Meyrin could scarcely look at him right now, sobbing in a heart wrenching way.

She had been beaten many times in her previous line of work and worse. Bones broken, body scarred, bruised, and battered. She had been manhandled at least once by Sebastian when first brought here but this was entirely different. She loved Bard, perhaps not in the way he so desired, but she loved him. To have him strike her like that after so many warm, tender, loving, cherished memories together, it was too much to bare. The same could be said of Finnian, who ran to her side immediately and held her in his arms. He turned her away from Bardroy and scowled at the man.

"H-how could you?! She's a lady and your friend! She doesn't deserve this especially after all she has been through! You…you monster!"

"Would you shut up, will you?!" Bard roared in his face. He would have never done that either, scream or shout at the boy like this. He had sort of become his brother or even his son. He loved him dearly, would ruffle his hair and call him his boy. He took pride in him as if he indeed was his own kid. Meyrin was the same way with him, sneaking him sweets and playing tag with him. Sometimes he would even sleep next to her when feeling scared since Bard didn't seem to be the cuddling or coddling type. To do this to him, though, wasn't right. Even if he was his father he would only raise his voice if he talked back or did something wrong. In his mind this was wrong. Very very wrong.

"Both of you drive me to my wits end! Look at you two, look what you've become! We used to be a unit not to be fucked with and we also used to be glad to be alive! We actually gave a damn about things! Open your bloody eyes, Sebastian isn't coming back and the young master isn't gunna suddenly rise from the earth! It's over now, it's all over but that doesn't mean our lives have to be over! When did we stop living for ourselves?! When did we become so dependent on what was or what was impossible to be and stop focusing on what is and what can be?! You lot are stuck in the past! It's miserable! All fucking day I have to watch you both blank out like you're shell shocked! Is this any way to honor them?! By just waiting around for a miracle?! It's not going to happen, it just isn't! Snap out of it, for Christ sake! I miss the old Finny who ran and jumped around like a rabbit in spring, who had light in his heart! I miss the old Meyrin who was both uncoordinated and coordinated at the same time, who had fire in her soul! I even miss the old me that has gotten drowned in the abyss of all this! I miss them too, I do but I know what is! I want to have a life and fucking smile again! He died, we didn't! We are still alive damn it. Fucking hell!"

With that Bard stormed out of the room leaving those words sitting there with them. He closed himself off in the parlor and screamed into the pillow that resided on the chair. He had enough dignity to not punch the walls though he wanted to badly. Meyrin sat there in Finnian's arms, her face still wet with tears. Her shoulder shook as she cried while he soothed her as she had done to him on many nights when the monsters would try to get him. He too started to cry, biting his lip in order to stop any whimpering from coming out of his mouth. He didn't want her to worry about him at all. After a while he started to just let it all out and the two cried together for a long time. Meyrin let those words hit her each one just as fierce as his slapping hand.

Her chest hurt from heaving and hearing all of these things that she had to hear. It was a hard and bitter pill to swallow for the two of them. They had been in a stupor this entire time and unwittingly were only glad to have company to their misery. She realized that Bard could have left at any time and was certain he wanted to but he stayed for their sake. He stayed because he was concerned about their wellbeing. She didn't feel betrayed anymore now. Meyrin began to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

It had been so long since she had done this or at least it felt so. Her face still was sore and pulsating with the pain but she let it be she let it stay there and remind her of why it had happened and what they had done. After a moment of release, she sighed shakingly and explained to Finny that she was going to talk to Bard. He warned her about going to him after what he had done and how livid he had been. He wanted her to stay here where it was safe. She reflected upon that statement. Where it was safe, huh? This whole thing, this place, all the things that had transpired, had been a sort of security blanket for the two.

They wrapped themselves in it so tight they suffocated but the warmth that it provided, even if a lie, was so comforting they didn't care. Meyrin kissed the boy on the forehead and told him she would be alright, that she could handle her own but should anything go wrong she would call him. Finny allowed her to leave but still worried about this. Weakly he laid his head on the table, still feeling all mixed up. Bard had never acted this way before. Sure, he got angry sometimes, swore often, but hitting a woman? He would never. Finny was so young he didn't understand the complications of these matters. All he could think was that he hoped Meyrin and Bard would talk things over and all would be okay again. Finny just wanted his family back to the way it was. Meyrin found Bardroy still in the parlor, leaning back on the sofa and looking hazily at the ceiling while smoke spouted out of his cigarette like a chimney. His eyes were rimmed in red and cheeks a bit flushed. It seemed he too had been crying.

"Bard…" Meyrin's voice called out gently as she peered in from the doorway, unsure of his state or if he was willing to talk.

How could he face her? How could he even look at her after what he did? He felt like utter and complete waste after abusing the woman. It had only been one hit, but it was damned hard, his hand was still stinging from it but he knew it was nothing in comparison to the way she felt. He couldn't do it. Blast it all he couldn't summon up the courage to look her in the eye. Indeed, he had been weeping, which of the three of them he was the least likely to do so. He regretted doing that to her. He was no gentleman. He was as Finny stated, a monster.

"You…you can come in if that's what you want."

His voice sounded pale, losing its burly tough man touch. He sounded depleted. He was. Meyrin came in and closed the door behind her to give them some privacy. She sat beside him which surprised him. She seemed rather calm considering everything that transpired though when he peeked at her he hissed a little at the mark on her face.

"God damn me to hell for what I done to you, Mey. No good honest man should lay a hand on a lady."

"Bardroy do you have any more of those?" She asked simply, pointing toward the stick that was in between his lip.

He cocked a brow at her before producing another. She took it from his hand, no longer shaking as much as she had been. "Didn't know you smoked."

"Used to, back before here. Care to give me a light?"

He took out his trusty lighter, the best friend of the pyromaniac. He lit the tip of the cigarette and watched the flame dance in her eyes and across her face. She inhaled and seemed to be content with this, sighing as if remembering a really good time she once had. He kept staring at her now. 'She's so damned beautiful. God broke the mold when he made her.' He then felt ashamed of himself for striking such a beauty. He wasn't for sure if he would feel worse for doing the same for Finny. He concluded that both were equal in their awfulness, but this was somehow even more egregious. He recalled the sound of her wail in his mind and it tore him to pieces. The look in her eyes too. However, she didn't seem to mind as she seemed to incline closer to him. The puff of gray left her lips, perfect and smooth.

"I deserved to be hit so don't feel bad for it."

"No, don't say that now. You didn't do anything to deserve my anger."

"Yes, I did. You know I did. If you feel like apologizing, then I will accept it but it's not necessary. We've been living in a fog that clouded our vision and couldn't even tell what was right or wrong. We needed to be woken up and you finally did that for us. I knew the whole time deep down that he was never coming back. No one was going to come back. We are all that's left. We are like cockroaches, surviving to the end even after being stepped on. I think we could go to hell and come back stronger than before."

"It still wasn't right…"

"You're an old softy," Meyrin teased, making a face that was absolutely lovable, her eyes twinkling as she scrunched up her features cutely. "Though you try to deny it."

"Hush you," Bard murmured, blushing thoroughly.

"You are also braver than I am. You did what none of us could. Thank you for that. Really and truly. Though I think you had better apologize to Finny, he's scared of you right now."

Bardroy let out an exasperated air. He didn't want anyone to be afraid of him for any reason. He really let himself go this time but who could really blame him? With things the way they were it was a shock he hadn't done this sooner. Meyrin took a deep drag before snuffing out the light and flicking it into the garbage can with precise aim. As always, he was impressed with her. Though he could not admit it out loud watching her handle her "babies" aka her rifles and not miss with a dagger it made him sort of aroused in a way he couldn't explain. He'd never really met a girl like that before. Suddenly she beamed at him and her eyes shone.

"Let's take him to the carnival, Bard. That would cheer him up."

"We don't have any money for that, though."

"Yes we do," She assured, nodding her head violently. "I've been saving up my earnings."

"Smart woman."

"Well I don't usually blow them on erotica," Meyrin explained, winking at him. His face turned red all over. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to grin away his embarrassment.

"So, you know about those, eh? Wasn't meant for a lady's eyes to see. Sorry bout that."

"Don't apologize," She spoke in a bolstering voice, warm as the sunshine. "Is that the kind of women you like then?"

"Uh well…I do prefer them to be real and with personality, you know. As for the bodies… I mean doesn't every guy kind of go for that? Even if it ain't real."

"I see." Meyrin started smoothing out her navy-blue maid's dress. Her lips were tightly drawn on her face and thin. She rubbed her shoulder and looked away in concentration. "I wonder if my body is up to par for some men. Nobody seems to notice me. Oh listen to me rambling on. We're burning moonlight here."

"Meyrin you have a…a…what I mean to say is that you…some guys they um they just don't know a good thing when they see it. You know beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as it goes."

"And what does your eye behold?"

"Oh...uh…well…you…exceed expectation."

Bard could have smacked himself for saying that. Exceeds expectation!? What was he grading her? Why couldn't he say what he meant, what he truly felt inside? She was absolutely sexy in every sense. He never understood Sebastian not hitting on her when he did so with other women. Was the man daft? That lady always infiltrated his more adult dreams and often he had to command his manhood to stay down after waking up from those. He shouldn't be thinking of her in that way. Her plump lips, her curves like a winding road he wanted to travel, her lovely face and bronze eyes and that hair like a wildflower had bloomed about her. He cleared his throat a little as she gazed at him in a prolific way, her cheeks all pink, her lips all sweetly smiling at him. It was one of those secret stares she used to give Sebastian along with longing sighs.

The look of someone viewing a lover. Bard got that out of his head immediately. He wouldn't give her any leeway to keep talking about the subject, instead he excused himself to fetch Finny and explain things to him, man to man as it were. Meyrin let him leave but she did not want to let go of how she felt when caught in his eyes. She saw herself through him now, a radiant beauty that smoldered and sizzled and ignited. No one had made her feel that way, like a woman. Either she was ignored or she was a whore.

If she was lucky she would be seen as a companion to said man but never more. Meyrin began to fuss with her hair in the mirror and wondered if she should put on any makeup or change her dress. She never felt so light-headed even with her glasses on and even around their butler. She decided, what the hey, and put on a different set of clothes. Nothing too wild but pretty. A yellow dress with blue stripes and a blue belt. When she thought she looked suitable she met up with the two other guys who had seen to their differences and were shaking hands now.

Meyrin picked up her glasses and placed them upon her face again. Even so she could see him clear as crystal through the thick lenses. She wanted to twirl for him and watch his eyes follow every length of her gown in appreciation. Finnian seemed overjoyed with the fact that they were going to see the circus. He especially was excited about the performers. He would probably be right at home there as the world's strongest boy. He hurried off to go get changed leaving her there with Bard who coughed a little.

"That's a nice dress."

"You like it?" She beamed, glowing all over as she displayed the dress.

"Yeah. Looks good on you. I should change too, I guess."

"Alright then. I'll wait outside for you both."

It looks good on you he said! As soon as he was out of sight she danced dizzily in the kitchen, bumping into things and knocking them over. What care had she? There was a brightness now in her world, things could begin anew. The old path was gone, swept away and never to be spoken of again. A new path was putting itself together right in front of her and she intended to walk it boldly, head up high. Everyone was ready and looking fine so they all headed out into the sunshine for the first time in a long time, braving the crowded streets. It was good to breathe the fresh air once more and be out of that home. Finnian grasped Meyrin's arm and bolted toward where the fairgrounds were. Bard had to jog just to keep up with him.

The three were alive again laughing away through the day. They ate whatever their hearts desired no matter how strange it sounded, delighted in the sound of the calliope, ooh and ahhed at the animals on display, played all sorts of games to which Bard was very good at winning, and watched in amazement the daring feats the acrobats could do. Finnian was drinking a root beer while holding onto one of the prizes won by Bard. It was a plush of one of the circus animals, the one Finny liked the most; the elephants. The day was winding down now, the sun was going to sleep and so the ex-servants who finally were free to act like people decided it was time to go home and sleep too. It had been a lengthy, tiresome, but all throughout enjoyable day.

Whatever spell they had been under before was broken at last and the three could finally all be themselves again. The acts of earlier had been forgiven and forgotten, all washed away like debris down a storm drain. Finny's face had been stuffed with so many gluttonous confections that his mouth and fingers were still sticky with the aftermath of caramel corn, candied apples, toffees, licorice whips, hot fudge, salt water taffies, and cotton candy. The child had a bottomless pit for a stomach and being his age meant he often craved things that would surely give him cavities in the long run.

It didn't matter if he had an upset stomach all night from over exerting himself the two adults decided it was only right to spoil the boy. He was elated. Today was the best day in his life since so long ago when given the name he carried. He felt truly blessed to have such devoted and caring people in his life, two people who he decided were like the parents he never had. Bardroy had always ruffed him up sort of like a big brother but after the earl had gone from this life Finny realized just how close he was with him.

Meyrin was the only female in his life he connected with and through her attentive affections she became his mother figure. Droplets of water trickled from the sky and pitter pattered onto the ground sending the circus troupe to scurry about and get their equipment into a dry place. Finny abandoned his drink and started for home as the rain picked up. Bard took off his brown jacket and covered Meyrin's head with it as the two also ran as fast as their feet could carry them to the safety of indoors. As soon as they were inside Bard hung up his wet coat on the coat rack and made sure all were accounted for and safe.

"Blimey that storm came out of nowhere it did!" Finnian cried out, shaking the rain off of himself like a wet dog.

"Do be careful, dear. We don't want the floor to get wet because we might slip."

"Oh right. I'll clean it up right away. Golly today was great though. Did you see those tight rope walkers the way they balanced on those thin wires? And the lion tamer! Ah gee. It was magic. We should go again soon. It was so much fun!"

He bounced up and down with a smile so big it must have hurt his face. He leaped all the way to the supplies room like a deer.

"He's awful enthusiastic, ain't he? We shouldn't have filled him up with sugar. He won't be able to sleep tonight."

Bard stretched as he said this hearing the satisfying pop of his muscles unlocking from tension. The boy would be irritable all night and liable to keep him up with his antics. He liked him in a cheery state, though he knew it would lead to restlessness. Finny would be bouncing off the walls and gabbing away at what have you. Meyrin watched as the floor was dried clean while Finny whistled the tune that played all about the fair. So many times in her previous line of work did she take human life for granted. She never gave a moment to stop and think of the lives she was destroying until it came to those two little boys who ran toward their father.

Suddenly then it dawned upon her just how much she loathed this entire operation. When she started working here she still carried all of that baggage and refused to become attached to anyone. She felt she didn't deserve that after all that she had done. Her detachment didn't last as she was whittled down by her coworkers especially Finny who wanted to get to know her. She grew to care for him in ways she never could have imagined. She had never wanted a child before nor had she long ago thought anything of children or babies but now she could not help herself but to go gaga at every woman pushing a stroller or heavy with child. As for how she had been with Sebastian she never experienced that either. Love was not something she was familiar with but soon would be.

Everything about her old self had changed drastically. Then after Ciel had died and Sebastian left she felt empty and hollow once more. How could she continue on with her life anymore? All she could do was grasp onto a hope that there would be normalcy in her life again. In doing this she was blinding herself to the truth, that she was not alone anymore, there were those around her who would give her that normalcy if only she looked around. She forgot what it was like to be so jubilant. It was like she was a pair of clothes that had just been washed, perfumed, and dried. All clean and all new. She looked up at Bard who was cracking his fingers and neck now. His hair was wet too as was his attire. He was shivering at the cold temperature in the manor. He sacrificed so much for their sake.

His sanity, his freedom, his life, his everything. It was a small gesture just giving up his coat to make sure she didn't get wet, but it made her remember so many things he did for them. He always played off everything as if it never bothered him, smoking away as he went through this life with a casual attitude. She knew better. A trained assassin like she had learned the technique of telling how people were going to react and when they were being honest.

It helped to read poker faces in case someone in their midst was a traitor or spy. He could put on a brave face and act all apathetic, but she could tell plain as day what put him off and what made him tick. The three of them were as thick as thieves but she and Bard shared more in common with each other. They were like bullets, a cold hard shell on the outside but on the inside, there was gunpowder. They both shared a complete obsession over weaponry though he was far more the tactical sort. In every battle he was the troop leader because he was level headed enough to come up with a strategy.

Meyrin recalled when she had taken post on the roof one night to watch over the premises. Like the skilled huntress she was trained to be she watched hawk like over the fields and her ears were listening intently for even the smallest crack of a twig. No one was about to get into the manor that night without going through her. They weren't on high alert, but she thought it prudent anyhow. Behind her she heard a shuffle of noise and quick to the draw she whipped around and prepared to fire at whoever was there. Her gun was locked and loaded but thankfully her trigger finger halted because it was Bardroy standing there, absolutely frozen on the spot, sweat dotting his brow and heart racing.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! It's only me!"

She lowered her gun instinctively then went about cleaning it. "What are you doing here?" Her question was flat and frosty and she wasn't looking up at him. "Did the young master send you to assist me?"

"No. He knows you can handle yourself and so do I. I just…wanted to check up on you, I guess. Aren't you cold out here?"

"Not at all. I've been stationed in Mohe before. It snowed the whole time and I had to cover my tracks. This is nothing."

"Oh… well aren't you hungry? You didn't eat anything."

"Of course not." Her stomach almost immediately denied that answer with a loud growl. She placed her hand on her stomach and her face turned dark pink.

"A good soldier has got to keep up their strength, ya know? How can you expect to be in top shape with nothing in your belly? I made you a little something. Back home they called it a burrito. If you like spicy they would add salsa. It's a sauce made with peppers and onions. The young master doesn't like that kind of thing so I don't bother even trying to learn how to make it. It should fill you up right."

Meyrin extended her hand toward the wrapped tortilla stuffed to the brim with beans, corn, and beef. It was warm in her hands. She took an experimental sniff before biting off a tiny piece. She chewed, almost afraid of what it would taste like as she had heard the chef couldn't cook to save his life, but it wasn't bad at all. Perhaps the British had a stuffy prim sort of appetite only suited for the glamorous cuisine served on silver platter. She swallowed before taking a much larger bite, devouring it entirely.

"It's good."

Bard couldn't help the big grin that cracked on his face. Nobody around here liked his cooking and nobody back home really cared for it whenever he tried. He often burned everything and cut up his fingers trying to mince or dice. His fingers were always bandaged, banged up, or sore after everything and some part of him charred or given a fine layer of charcoal. Meyrin looked into the sky at the stars and the crescent moon. It was quiet tonight, only the crickets and night time birds could be heard. The occasional mouse scurrying in the grass or cat but other than that it was silent. The cool air whipped about her as she sat there.

"You are the first one to say that. I'm glad you like it."

"I've had worse. Compared to hardtack and gruel this is fine dining."

"Yeah I know what you mean. Well if you need anything else let me know."

"Water would be nice."

He went back down through the hatch and returned with a clean glass of water of which she drank from deeply. He took the glass from her and started back down the collapsible stairway when she stopped him.

"Stay."

"What?"

"Stay here. Tell me about America. I've never been."

Bard placed the glass down on the ground before sitting on the roof top. Through the night he talked her ear off about all he could remember from where grew up, whisking her away with his vivid wording back to the dusty heat of his modern world while she finished off her dinner. The two of them had a good laugh together as he shared his experiences and tall tales until she fell asleep. When she awoke she had her rifle still clutched in her hand and drool on her lip. Around her form was what she realized was Bards coat. He was always shielding her, always concerned for her, always looking after her to the very end. Meyrin took a handkerchief from her pocket and beckoned Finny close to her. She took his face in her hands and begun to wipe off all the jellies and frosting from his face. She clicked her tongue under the roof of her mouth as she shook her head.

"You should wash up, dearie. You look an awful state."

"Yes mum and once I get my face all cleaned up could we sleep together?"

"Of course, love. Whatever you like. I'll make sure to set up my room for you."

"No no. I don't mean in your room with you. I mean all of us. Together. Like a real family."

Meyrin's napkin almost dropped on the floor from that statement. She and Bard shared the same expression of being beet red from head to toe. It was one thing for Meyrin and Finny to be side by side in bed and if he asked tonight Bard would have no qualms about laying next to the kid, but the trouble was all three of them together. The feat could be accomplished of course but it was the act of being in bed with her and she with him that made the both of them all twittery and shy. Meyrin had occupied a bedroom with men before but it always ended with her body being used and the men leaving afterwards.

Bardroy had a few girlfriends in his time but it had been a while since those days and the way he was toward her was different than any other southern belle that found her way into his room. This was the type of girl you'd bring home to the folks and introduce them right. The kind of girl a man would settle down with not just have some fling. It would be wrong to be in the same bed as her like this. Friends of the opposite sex just don't do that sort of thing.

"Uh...um…Finny… that just isn't something we do you know…she's a grown woman and I'm a man…and we…"

"I don't see the problem in it. Please oh please? I promise I won't steal all the covers."

Meyrin's eyes went upwards to Bard's. A sheepish queer sort of defeated smile came to her lips. "If you don't mind, I don't."

"I…uh…"

Finny put his hands together and it seemed like his already big eyes got even bigger and full of pleading. He quivered his lower lip and mouthed please over and over again. Bard sighed and released his breath.

"Alright," he said with finality. This was going to be a very difficult very long night for him. Finny jumped for joy, exuberantly exclaiming that he was going to get ready for bed right now. He had never seen him so excited over brushing his teeth before. Bard told Meyrin he better go change the sheets and prepare everything but it came out all stumbling and odd as if the words were the first words he had ever spoken. She understood him, for she felt the same. She had to quiet the butterflies that swarmed her stomach and fluttered their silvery wings inside of her. 'Steady girl steady' She told herself as she walked to her bathroom, but she was anything but. Her limbs moved like she was trudging through the mud or even more so like they were made of gelatin and wobbled with every step she took.

She gripped the sink of her bathroom and attempted to keep herself calm. After taking some time to herself she became less on edge than before. The steamy shower certainly helped release her tensions. Meanwhile Bardroy was not in the same camp for he still felt nervous about this whole deal. He found enough strength to push the two beds together and lay out covers and more pillows, but it felt like the hardest thing he could ever do. Thank the lord in heaven that Finny was there to keep this somewhat less intimate than would be without him. Still he had to make sure their room was within liking to a lady, so his dirty clothes were put neatly in the hamper and out of sight, as were his provocative magazines, and whatever else. He even swept the floor, fluffed the pillows, and lit some candles to give the place a pleasing smell.

As he lit the candles Meyrin came into the bedroom and their eyes met. She wasn't wearing anything that was indecent nor see through at all but to him she looked ravishing. Her hair was loose from her usual pigtails and slick with water, obviously combed through and looked silky to the touch. Over time it had gotten longer, and curls trailed over her shoulder and past the nape of her neck. Her glasses were removed and showcased those charming and rare eyes that seemed to sparkle like the river at night. Her night dress came past her knees and billowed out from her but the top of it cinched at the waist and cupped her chest.

There wasn't any drastic amount of cleavage but a smidgen was peeking out from her top. He might have been gawking at her particularly because he knew as well as anyone that women don't wear underthings to bed at least they don't wear brassieres but bloomers most definitely. So, with the tight fit of her top he could see the outline of her impressive sized bust.

"Wow you sure did clean up the place nicely. You're very sweet to have done that for me."

"Y-Yeah well…I wouldn't want a pretty lady to sleep in a dirty room."

He should have bit his tongue for saying that even though he wanted to. Meyrin turned bashful and placed her hands behind her back, teetering on her feet like a slender tree swaying in the breeze. Bard needed a smoke badly now, but he refused to do that right after lighting candles and going to bed. 'What's taking Finny so long? I can't stand this. With just us here the room feels like a sauna.' He loosened the collar around his neck to relieve himself a little. Usually he liked to sleep with his shirt off or even less than that but he wouldn't dare now.

It wasn't the amount of clothing he wore that made him so hot it was just the fact that she was there with him in his bedroom with the spicy scent of cinnamon and crisp apple blossom in the air. She looked like an angel come from heaven itself and yet his mind was fouled up with sinful thoughts. Some were very romantic but it was still sinful for him to think about them at all. Blissfully Finnian bounded into the room breaking the strain. He immediately jumped onto the bed and started giggling happily, tossing his limbs into the air. Meyrin went over to him and begin play tickling him causing more bubbling childlike sounds of merriment to arise from him.

"Get comfy, alright love?"

"Oh but can't I stay up just a wee bit longer?"

"Tell you what I'll tell you a bedtime story. Which would you like?"

"I like the one about the three bears cuz it's kind of like us."

"Alright then. Skootch over, dear."

Meyrin shifted herself into the bed on the left side with Finny pressed against her while Bardroy took his place on the other side. This was a good position and not at all compromising in his mind. The trio were snug together with some exception as Bard dangled a little off the edge of the bed which was nothing for him as he liked having one leg out of the covers anyhow. Finnian propped his neck upon a pillow and intertwined his fingers over his chest as he listened to her. Bard had heard the story before and the different tellings of it. When he was a lad it wasn't his favorite story, he liked Jack and the beanstalk the most, but whenever he was told it he enjoyed it nonetheless.

"Once upon a time in the woods there lived three brown bears. Mama Bear who was keen and gentle, Papa bear who was grumpy but agreeable, and baby bear who was the smallest bear you ever did see but had the biggest roar."

At this Finny made an attempt to do his best bear growl. Bard chuckled in spite of himself. He was right that did sound like them. The gentle Meyrin, the grumpy Bard, the small but mighty Finny. She continued on with her tale describing the cottage the bears lived in and how they were going to eat porridge that morning. As they went on their walk to let it cool down in came the notorious Goldilocks to run amuck. Meyrin went into more detail than he had heard in other tellings even going so far to include what color dress Goldilocks wore or the expression upon her face when breaking the chairs. Eventually she got to the point where Goldilocks was getting into the beds and trying each one for size.

"And finally, she got to baby bears bed, the smallest bed in the room, and as she laid upon it she realized it was-" Meyrin looked down in the middle of her sentence and noticed that Finny was sound asleep, curled against her with his head on her chest, breathing soundly and dreaming of circus bears in tutus balancing porridge on their noses. She lovingly tucked him in and kissed the top of his head. "Just right." She moved his golden hair out of his face. Bard watched her and watched him, peacefully asleep with his rosy chubby cheeks. He couldn't help but imagine that this was his future, Meyrin and he in this bedroom, their child between them.

"Cute kid," Bardroy admitted, ruffling the back of his hair light enough not to wake him. "He must have been more tuckered out that I thought."

"He had a big day, the little scamp. It does my heart good to see him smile like he used to."

"Yeah me too."

"It does my heart good to see you smile too."

"You too. I don't like seeing you so down."

"How's your hand feeling?" Meyrin nodded toward his still bandaged hand.

"It should be all good by tomorrow."

Meyrin reached out to touch Baldroy's hand gingerly but he swiftly pulled it away. No, he couldn't let her touch him it just wasn't right for them to do that. Pain crossed her face as he did that making him regret his callousness. He didn't want to ruin their friendship, but he also wanted to begin something new with her. What was he to do? His hand went to hers and was placed on top of it. The moonlight leaked onto her heavenly face showing him that the pain was gone and replaced with adoration.

Her fingers moved over his knuckles baring the scars of his unwieldy knife wielding and touched the callouses on the sides of his fingers. She was careful in her caressing where the cut was from the broken china. Bard could tell he was grinning like a dope and he cursed himself for it though he didn't know why. He was loving her attention even if only to his hand and it made the hairs on his body stand up and his heart rattle in the cage of his chest. Her fingernails trailed over his forearm causing him to have goosebumps in the best way.

"So many scars that tell so many stories. I finally have time to learn them all. We have all the time in the world now. Unless you plan to leave of course. I'd understand if you did as you do have a family."

"Mey I wouldn't leave you two for all the gold in the world. You are my family."

"Bard…" Meyrin sympathetically whispered, tears forming in her eyes. He cupped her face and wiped away the tears with his thumb. The salt water went into his wounds but none of that mattered.

"Don't cry again. I won't have you crying for me. It still rips me apart at the seams knowing I've already done it once today."

"Are you still thinking about that? I told you it was water under the bridge."

"I know…I know… but the look you had on your face…my mother would beat my ass raw if she knew I did that to you and I would deserve it too. I let my temper get the best of me. When you looked at me it shot into my soul like an arrow and I just couldn't stop could I? Couldn't let bygones be bygones. I had to yell at you, both of you. I've never felt lower. I swear on the holy bible itself that I will never ever do that again. To hurt a woman, any woman, but especially a woman like you is horrible."

Meyrin rubbed his shoulder then touched his face, crossing his cheek, crossing his nose, then resting at his mouth. "Why have I never noticed how beautiful your eyes are?"

"Aww Mey…don't say stuff like that."

"It's true. They look like the sea. Unlike my ordinary eyes which are just brown like dirt."

"Now hey there, that ain't true at all. You know they are anything but ordinary. You have amber eyes, not brown. They look like copper sometimes. Beautiful."

Bard wasn't going to back down now that he had started. He swallowed all nervous feelings and pride and tossed aside his outer layer. He was going to tell it like it was. Her hand was put back on Finny's sleeping head, tucking some stray hairs behind his ears. Meyrin yawned and Bard told her they should get to bed already. His hand never left her cheek, moving his thumb in circular motions like a subtle massage to make up for what he did to her. Meyrin moved close to him and kissed his cheek causing him to become warm all over.

"Goodnight Bard and thank you, for everything."

She closed her eyes softly the last thing she heard was. "Goodnight, love." Bard laced his fingers with hers as he started to fall asleep. Though the start of the day had been a rocky uphill battle they all still came out on top as expected of a battalion he would lead. Once they had been in a war, a hired assassin, and an experiment subject but they were taken out of the trenches, hideout, and laboratories by a master and his butler. They served them well throughout their lives finding meaning but once they were gone it was like a rug pulled out under them. Bard had to be the one now who took them out of this and now that they did they could release the spirits that bound them.

They would keep the manor up and still clean as a whistle to commemorate those that had given them this new start, but they had to now be the ones who would ultimately give themselves another new start. All of them seemed willing to do so, all of them braved the new adventure set forth upon them. No longer a maid, no longer a gardener, no longer a cook. They would still clean, make meals, and tend to the plants but their titles were dropped. Now they were a man, a woman, and a boy living out their new lives in the home of the master that was dead to them but was still alive and well in their hearts.