"All rise," the honorable Judge Faustus called for the cooperation of the courtroom and everyone stood, just as ordered. They were all too eager to protest. This was what they had been waiting for, the cherry on top of one rotten apple sundae that begged to be tossed in the trash and forgotten. Months and months of waiting had all led to this moment, and so despite their sore legs and aching backs, the audience stood with delight.

The accused, on the other hand, stood purely to be obedient. There was no passion or glee behind his standing, he simply stood because he was told to. He didn't want to stand, actually, the courtroom seats were cushioned and quite comfortable and he would have preferred to stay down. This whole trial had really tired him out.

He had told Ciel before that he would not bat an eyelash if he was thrown in the slammer, and he intended to stay true to his word. But court was a hell of a lot more... annoying than he had pictured. Especially with all the cameras and people crowding the room and invading his personal space. Normally the blond loved pictures, but now was certainly not the time for one- he looked a right mess, and this was proving to be the most stressful moment of his entire life. All the noise was irritating him and he definitely did not want to cause a a bigger ruckus than he already had.

Alois' trial had been quite possibly one of the biggest social media whirlwinds that had ever swept the U.K. Never before had a case produced this much publicity or national attention, and that was partly due to the fact that almost everyone had been personally victimized by the defendant, partly due to a very famous celebrity having just died at his hand, and partly due to the amount of times the trial had gone awry. Ciel found that such instances could be categorized as "scandals", and when spoken of in chronological order they essentially summed up the entire six month affair.

First there had been the arraignment scandal, in which Alois tried to plead not guilty by reason of insanity instead of guilty. This led to a two month long investigation on his background, which in turn created the identity scandal- there was no record of anyone under the name "Alois Trancy" ever existing in the United Kingdom. No birth certificate, no dental records, no visa applications, and most importantly no record of his mental health.

The blond swore that his name had never been changed and that he'd lived in Britain all his life, but of course there was no evidence to prove such a claim. Many people wondered if they could even try someone who apparently didn't exist. Moreover, they questioned how they had been able to arrest him and put the offenses on his record without one to mar. That one was called the rights and reasons scandal.

This went on for a solid month. The public was divided; one part of the population called for the trial to be postponed until everything was in proper order and his identity could be confirmed, another part didn't care and just wanted Alois to be put behind bars because it was so obviously him, and another part was unsure what to do or how to feel at all. It got so bad that full-blown marches had been organized to protest the mismanagement of the situation. A part of Alois was touched.

Ultimately, however, the Crown Court decided that if this was indeed the Menace as he said he was, there was more than enough evidence against him to conduct a proper hearing. They also determined that because of the lack of documentation, they couldn't confirm nor deny the existence of a mental illness in his psyche, and therefore Alois' plea had to be withdrawn. He returned to court a week later and plead guilty on all counts.

After that, the support to free Alois dissipated even quicker than it materialized. People came to their senses and realized that it was more than likely that they had the right guy. After all, no more killings had occurred after the suspect was locked up. Either he was framed or it was him, and more people were willing to bet on the odds of the latter than the former.

Then came time for the trial at last. Alois didn't have a lawyer, and he had too big of a stick up his ass to ask for one, so he decided he would defend himself. "Asking for help shows weakness," he had responded when inquired about his risky endeavor, "and I have everything to prove. I'd rather tell my version of events myself than let anyone else potentially get it all wrong." But the prosecution had a very strong case, and seeing as there was no jury, he had to somehow place the inkling of doubt inside of only one person- the stoic, particularly distrusting judge. It was no easy task by any means.

Now, on June 17, 2016, Alois was to be sentenced. He had no doubt that he would spend the rest of his life in prison, and he was prepared for that. It didn't bother him that he would waste away in a cell of some sort for all of eternity. It would all just be as it was before. His life wouldn't change, it would remain stagnant, like the flat-line on a heart monitor.

Yes, that was it, that was what his life had become, a flat-line. A shrill, consistent beep that rang throughout a hospital room and brought great despair to all who watched over him. It was loud and deafening, unmoving, and it would continue to yell and scream about the demise of this person whose heartbeat it reflected until it was unplugged. A sad and frankly useless analogy, but it got the point across. Nothing mattered anymore. What would happen would happen, and the blond would face whatever it was head-on. He wouldn't be scared, he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't beg- he would accept it, he would, he told himself this over and over again until he believed it. He would. He would. He would.

Faustus himself now stood in the air, great heights above Alois as he gripped the podium in disdain. His glare sent the hairs on his neck and arms flying to the skies, and the blond couldn't help but gulp.

The judge cleared his throat. "If I am honest, this was ridiculously simple to settle. I have long been convinced that you, Alois Trancy, are a disgusting, vile human being, and that you deserve what's to come to you. There has never been a doubt in my mind that you are evil."

Ouch.

"Which is why," his hand felt across his marvelous podium for his gavel, "I have complete confidence in my decision to sentence the accused to death."

Bang bang.

The crowd was electric, screaming at the top of their lungs to protest the judge's decision. This wasn't right. This wasn't just. The death penalty was illegal in Europe and Judge Faustus had just gone against that. Everyone was furious.

None more hysterical than Alois, however. He lunged forward so suddenly and violently that the bailiffs barely had time to restrain him. His cries could be compared to the likes of a banshee's, petrifying Ciel at the sheer lack of control his display of emotions presented.

Oh, yes, Ciel was in the courtroom of course. Why would he miss this? The very man who tarnished his name was on trial, and he intended to make sure he was behind bars for the rest of his life. He went to every single hearing, stayed the entire time, and enjoyed every second of it.

But this? The death penalty? Surely the judge was jesting. He had to be. There was no way. Oh, but it seemed there was. Alois was on the ground sobbing uncontrollably, the onlookers were rioting, and the judge was fleeing the scene smooth and unbothered as silk. How could this be? Why would a judge make such an unprecedented and unacceptable decision? What a fucking joke this all was.

Not even Alois deserved such a cruel and unusual punishment.

That night the world decided to have a field day with the newfound information. The detective was unable to escape it. Every news station was covering it, every social media platform was riddled with posts about it- hell, even Ciel's own private messages were blowing up thanks to Sebastian and Finnian, and as he sat on his couch dressed in his boxers and an undershirt he felt anger unlike any other he'd ever felt before. It was a calm, lava-like anger, controlled, slow to start, yet fiery and hot, and at the same time if anyone dared bring up Faustus or Alois he would most certainly crush the TV remote in his fist.

On the other hand, the buzz surrounding the incident was more than reason enough for cataloguing yet another scandal. That could be a nice distraction from all the insanity. This made what, the fourth one? No, no, the fifth. Alois miserably defending himself could count as one. He supposed he would name that one... Wait, no, his defense wasn't exactly scandalous, it was just poorly planned. No, Faustus fit the bill much better.

What would he call that one? The Faustus scandal? Hm... No, it sounded interesting, but it didn't flow with the rest. The judicial scandal? Nope, not that one either. What would he call it...the end scandal? Yes, yes, that was it. Ciel took out his notepad- he always had one on him- and jotted down the name, as well as a brief description of its events.

At last, the acronym was completed! When put together, all the names of the scandals spelled out: AIR&RE. It sounded brilliant. He tore out the pages he needed from the pad and added it to the collection of other acronyms for events he had created.

See, this was a hobby of his, labelling events as smaller ones and creating acronyms for them. It helped him to remember the better parts of history he was graced enough to witness, and it especially helped with his line of work. He often used outside knowledge to deduce how things would play out, why things happened the way they did, and how he could put an end to it. It made things simpler to remember and easier to recall if he recorded and named them, at least in his opinion.

God, he didn't want to go to work tomorrow.

~oOo~

This was absurd. This was absolutely, positively, motherfucking absurd. Fuck this. Fuck this bullshit and all the dicks that played a part in this. This was the worst possible thing that could ever happen. Ever. Ciel was onboard a private jet with his least favorite person in the entire universe strapped to a dolly Hannibal Lecter style while they headed to the United States, where the detective would be forced to spend the next five years of his life as a prison guard.

Fuck. This. Shit. He thought as he sat begrudgingly in his seat. And to think, all of this happened less than four hours ago. Four hours ago Ciel had felt completely fine and everything was normal and not shitty. What the hell had even happened in that time? The bluenet shut his eyes and slowly, slowly, ever so slowly tried to slip into his subconscious so he could relive the last few moments of his existing life. Perhaps he could find some solace in doing so.

"...The penalty must stand, I truly do apologize for the inconvenience," Will sighed irately.

"But this is blasphemous," Ciel had yelled, "why can't they overturn it?! Why can't he just stay here in London and serve a life sentence instead? Faustus was stripped of his title, he is no longer a judge! Surely his outlandish decision should be terminated as well?"

"I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times. He cannot be tried for the same crime more than once! The verdict has been given. The trial is over. What is done is done, no matter how illegal it is."

"Try him for a separate crime, then! He's guilty of more than murder! Breaking and entering, vandalism, public indecency-"

"Really, Ciel, this is getting out of hand. You are letting this get to your head and as a result are not thinking clearly. Public indecency?"

"I am thinking clearly! I've never thought more clearly in my life! This is important and this is unjust, and I refuse to sit by and let this happen!"

"Yeah, listen to him!" Alois piped up, having been silent for the whole of the quarrel up until now.

"You shut up," Ciel spat at him, "it's your own fault you're in this mess, you don't get a say in it!"

"Oy!" The blond exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "it's my own life, not yours! You can't plan my prion sentence!"

"You just told him to listen to me! What do you want, you capricious dick-swab?!"

"I'll have you kn-"

"Gentlemen, please!" Will had reached his breaking point and was fed up, regaining control of the situation rather speedily. With the pair now stunned into silence, the lawyer took this time to say what he needed to.

"As murky as these circumstances are, there is no changing them. Alois has been sentenced to death, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"What about the appeal I filed? Please, this is outrageous! The death penalty was outlawed in 1965, it's 2016 for cryin' out loud! This is literally against the law!" Alois begged.

"So's murder," Ciel snarked.

"You bite your tongue."

"Believe me, I wish the appeal worked. But the Crown Court is obligated to comply with the Queen's wishes if she decides to intervene, and since news of this reached her she believes you have committed the ultimate act of high treason and feels-"

"Unbelievable. Even Queen fucking Elizabeth wants me dead."

"Unfortunately so. However, we can't have you executed here, as the Murder Act of 1964 is still in full effect. It is legal, however, to be sentenced to death in the States."

"...No."

"I'm sorry, but you will be transferred to a maximum-security prison in Massachusetts, and you will live out your sentence there. You both fly out today. I've taken the liberty of purchasing your tickets-"

"Pardon me," Ciel couldn't help but interrupt. Did his eyes and ears deceive him? Did he say "you both"? "But what do you mean, 'you both?'"

"I'm so glad you asked," Will smirked, clasping his hands and leaning back in his seat. "You both will be flying out to the States. The prison you are going to, Aloysius Penitentiary-"

"You did that on purpose," it was Alois who snarked now.

"...This prison has a unique system for its death row inmates. They are paired with a detective who they are believed to be compatible with through the use of an extensive personality questionnaire. You will both recall that you took this exam not too long ago."

"I took it thinking it was busywork," the blond admitted sheepishly. Ciel merely rolled his eyes.

"Well, both tests were sent back to the prison, and they, unbiasedly, found that you two were the most compatible together."

"What?!" Cried Alois.

"Him?!" Ciel scoffed.

"Once a match has been made, preparations begin to be established. In regards to living arrangements, Alois will have a spacious cell of his own, isolated from the other inmates, and Ciel has generously been gifted a home and personal vehicle, courtesy of the prison. Upon arrival in Massachusetts, Ciel will receive several new cases, out of which he must pick one. Then, the two of you will collaborate to solve it. To do so you will be permitted to leave the prison as you see fit- supervised, of course. They are all real cases, very real and very urgent. You will both be paid handsomely for each one you complete until Alois' execution. The money Alois earns can be spent in the prison to purchase better meals, clothes, and more time in the courtyard. Ciel can do as he wishes with his money, and he is allowed to keep the cases he currently has here in England, but Alois can be of no service to him on those. Whenever you two are not working on cases, you are to keep a strict and close eye on Alois, Ciel. Do you understand?"

The room was dead silent. Nothing and nobody moved. Nobody knew what to say. All Ciel knew was that he was angry.

He was abruptly being uprooted from his life here with no warning, no time to prepare, no say in any of it. It was all just decided for him in a split second. He was moving to a new country. He was getting a new job. He was going to leave his old life behind to chauffeur around a criminal who had ruined him. And it all started today.

He was furious.

"When is my execution date?" Alois asked quietly after being silent for a few minutes more.

"It isn't set in stone, but they're strongly leaning toward a date in 2021 or so."

"...That prison doesn't sound very maximum-security to me."

"Trust me when I say it is."

"I don't really want to go there, Spears."

"Well that's too damn bad," Ciel fumed. "I guess we're fucking going to America today. What time does our flight leave. What airport. Who's picking us up. What's the address of the prison. What's my address. How're-"

"You leave at noon at London airport. Look for a sign saying 'Aloysius.' The rest of the information will be sent to your personal number once you land."

"How do you know all this? You're just a lawyer," Alois pointed out.

"I am. I am also a representative of Aloysius Penitentiary. I will be presiding over you for the duration of your stay."

"You make it sound like it's a once in a lifetime vacation to the Bahamas and not a one-way ticket to Hell."

"Thank you, I try."

Ciel still kept his mouth shut. He simply glared at Will, gave him the stare that sent goosebumps down even Sebastian's spine. Sebastian... He would probably never see him for five or more years. He had to leave his best and only friend for a mentally unstable towhead.

It was then that Ciel stood up and left the room. He drove home, packed as much clothing as he could, and drove himself to the airport. Then he waited until it was noon. Then he got his ticket. Then he got on the plane.

Now he was flying in the plane.

Good God, he really did not want to go to work tomorrow.