Staring into the mirror, the bluenette examined his face, putting it closer while resting his hands on the sink in order to examine his eyes more thoroughly. They were the same as always. One was deep blue and the other was a cold purple with Sebastian's diabolical signature etched on the surface. His gaze wandered, however, as he saw movement behind him. A pair of arms slipped around his waist a he turned to look over his shoulder. His husband kissed him on the cheek at the first given oppurtunity.

"Whatcha doin'?" Alois questioned as though he didn't see his beau examining his eyes.

"Nothing really." the bluenette stated, only to arch an eyebrow. His husband was staring at him and he had no idea why. "What is it?"

"You're very handsome." his beau informed. "I kind of like seeing you when you're going to bed or have just gotten up. Bedhead and no eyepatch? It's a deadly combo."

"You wouldn't like me to look clean cut and normal?"

"Don't you regularly?" confusedly asked the menace with an arched brow.

"I mean with both eyes the same colour and with a normal hair colour." Ciel clarified, only to receive a scoff from his husband.

"Pfft! No way, you'd look all wrong! You look interesting! If I didn't like the way you look, why would I be constantly attracted to you?" Releasing the other Phantomhive, he turned away to walk into the other room. "Hang on a sec. I'll show you."

"What?"

"Audrey and I were joking around and he sent me a picture of you he photoshopped."

"Why are you having Audrey photoshop pictures of me?"

"I just told you: we thought it would be funny." Alois said before coming back with his mobile phone. There was a long pause as he scrolled through his phone to find it. "Ah-ha! Here it is!"

He held the phone out to Ciel's view, prompting him to take it. Alois grinned as he saw his husband's face scrunch up in disgust at what he was seeing and didn't bother to conceal his giggling. Ciel's eyes darted up at the other man perplexedly before settling back onto the image and taking it in.

"That's just… Hmm..." Truly, Ciel was at a loss for words at what he was seeing. "He even got rid of my earrings..."

"I know, right?" The blonde replied. Putting an arm around his beau's shoulders, he leaned on one of them as he looked at the phone as well. "Cute, but not as interesting. I mean, with the same personality, I'd probably date him, but this guy's probably lived his whole life without any hardship and drives a prick car that his daddy bought for him. I could never settle for that."

"That sounds horrible, but you're probably right. I never knew black hair would look so weird on me?"

"Take it all in, Ciel. This is the other you." Chuckling, the menace shook his head. "Two Ciels… Now there's an idea."

"I thought you said you didn't like the idea?" the bluenette questioned.

"I didn't say that. I said that he's not appealing. Still doesn't mean it wouldn't be interesting! I'd love to see you tear him to shreds!"

"Well, if he's me, he'll be just as smart as me, but without all of the worldliness and supernatural tomfoolery."

"Yeah and that's why you have an edge!" Taking the phone from his spouse, the blonde looked at the image before thinking aloud: "I wonder if Lizzie would think this is funny."

"Don't you do it."

"Fine. You're cuter anyway." After closing the page he was on, the screen revealed his wallpaper, which was a picture of the bluenette taken while Ciel wasn't paying attention. Looking up at his spouse, he traced his fingers along his jaw. "I miss annoying you during the day. By the time you get home, you look like you don't need annoyed anymore, so where does that leave me?"

"I'm sorry, darling. It's just a few more weeks." Ciel replied, reaching up to grab the other's hand. "You don't need to annoy me, though..."

"Says you."

"Of course… Listen, I need to get ready to go..."

"Fine, fine. Leave me!" lamented the menace, while walking into the dressing room and quite literally falling down onto a fainting couch. "I will just be here. Alone. Without my husband to talk to or love me."

"You can still come visit, you know." Ciel said, following after him. Rather, he was simply heading to the wardrobe in order to grab his uniform.

"Can't. Gonna have to make a Pomeroy get hit by a train. Then I have to off his son in a hotel room."

"I thought you were going to have Sebastian bewitch him?" the other questioned while buttoning up his shirt. Then, he turned around to look at his husband incredulously. "Hotel room?"

"Yeah, apparently, he frequents it on Tuesdays. Don't worry, the only disguise I'm gonna wear is his own face."

"Maybe I should see if the corporals will be fine taking over today..."

"I'll be fine! I promise! It's an easy hit. I'm in, I stab, I'm out. Done."

"Jim, you know that's never how it works when it's personal..."

"Hey, are those new suspenders?" the blonde pointed out, trying to change the subject.

Rolling his eye, the other Phantomhive realised that he was going to get nowhere with his spouse for the time being. "Do you at least have a good knife to do it with?"

"I was just going to use this plain one I use to open those awful plastic packages that have nowhere to open them at."

"Check behind the family portrait in the parlor. There should be a dagger there."

"You keep shit in the weirdest places..." Alois shook. "First the safe and now this? Then there's the gun under the coffetable..."

"In a lot of these houses, there's a place to put daggers in order to cut paintings out the frames and chuck them out the window so they don't get burned in the event of a fire." his beau explained very casually while tying his tie. "I just replaced them with better ones for stabbing. That one should be large enough."

"I'm not astonished by any of this anymore." the menace said while watching him. "Thanks, though. I'll clean it off and put it back when I'm done." Sitting up, he planted his feet back on the ground and stood with a small grunt. "I should probably get dressed too… Sebastian's probably already headed out by now."

"Alright, dear." Patting his uniform, Ciel straightened it up before turning to the other man. "I'll see you this evening, then?"

"See you." The other replied as the both leaned in to peck each other's lips. "I'll text you when I'm done."

"Alright." the bluenette said. "Love you."

"Love you, too!"

And with that, Ciel was out the door after a small wave. Alois smiled for the duration of his stay, but as soon as the other man was gone? His expression faltered as his eyes fell to the floor. It was going to be quite a day. Yet, he couldn't feel disheartened now. He looked back up toward the closet, his smile gone but his eyes determined. His resolve was not shaken although he wondered just what kind of situation this was.

It was strange. Alois would talk to his husband like there was nothing the matter and kiss him before Ciel went to work. Then, Alois would go out and kill a human trafficker. He suspected that this one would shake him up a bit more, given the personal nature of the kill. The first and second hits involved not being around for the actual death. This one, however, involved plunging the instrument of death into the chest of his target and looking him square in the face while the man's pained screams assailed his ears. In truth, the Phantomhive wasn't sure how he was going to react. All that he hoped for was being able to keep his head.

After he was dressed, he headed downstairs just like he said he would and stepped into the parlor. There was a large family portrait there with the image of the previous Earl, his wife, and his son, Ciel along with the family dog. It was strange to see the family in a time of something that resembled "normalcy," but that was going to be interrupted soon.

"Pardon me, Earl, Countess, but I need to borrow something." he said aloud while propping the frame up just high enough for him to stick his arm behind it and grope around for the dagger. Upon finding it, he politely said "Thank you." before unsheathing it.

It was a rather sturdy combat knife. It appeared to have not been used in a while, but it would work just fine. The handle was easy to grip and combined with the hilt, there was little to no risk of it slipping in Alois' hand. It was spotless. Alois could see his reflection in the blade. Ah, there were those eyes of his again. Distant and filled with contempt.

"Not in front of the in-laws..." he mumbled before putting the weapon back in its sheath.

With that, he made his way to the front door, stepping through it, and locking it behind him. While significantly less tedious and horrible as the time his husband was having, Ciel ran into trouble on his end of things as well. Upon arriving at the camp, his troops were exhausted and he hadn't the foggiest idea why. He made sure that they had time to sleep their usual amount of time, he was sure of it. His math completely added up! Yet there they were, some almost completely dead on their feet.

They struggled to get out of bed when Ciel came barging in. Some of them even tripped over themselves while trying to rush out the door. While getting ready, many of them opted for warm showers, too, which didn't help things in the slightest. The group took far too long and there were many mistakes. Quite a few of them had cuts on their face from shaving. When they got dressed, they didn't fare much better. Their kits were sloppy as well. Poor Clancy stood next to his bed and nearly dozed off while standing at attention. What was going on? Why were they like this? Why?

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you lot?!" Ciel demanded. "Wake up! Wake up!"

As he walked down the line, he stopped at the bed of each recruit that was visibly drowsy and grabbed the ceramic mug in their kit. He smashed most of the mugs in the barracks that day. That seemed to wake them up a bit.

"Thank goodness that roused you!" the Phantomhive bellowed. "I was starting to think I might have to use the riding crop on those hollow heads of yours!" Pacing back and forth, he stared down his men as he tried to get to the bottom of this. "Why are you tired? Did you not go to sleep?! Answer me!"

There was hesitance, but all of them knew they couldn't keep it up. One of them would have to answer the bluenette or they would all be beasted. Then again, it was probably bound to happen anyway due to their transgression, but telling the truth might lessen the punishment slightly. Swallowing, Private Gordon Cooksey tried to wrack up the nerve to speak, but he couldn't help but stutter.

"I-It was my fault, sir!" he declared, surprising the rest of the group. Ordinarily, the man was lazy and didn't have anything on his mind but girls, as made evident by the night before. "We were up all night talking and-and… I'm the one who kept it going, sir!"

There was immediate regret. Once he was done speaking, the bluenette focused all of his attention on Private Cooksey. The demon didn't break eye contact even once as he swiftly closed the gap between them. While he was only slightly taller than the other man, Gordon felt as though Ciel towered over him, causing him to quake in his boots.

"And what, pray tell, was so important that you needed to keep the entire barracks up in order to talk about it?" inquired the Watchdog while staring the Private down.

"Uh… Uh..." Gordon had no time to think, so his mind scrambled to come up with something. Anything! Unfortunately, "anything" was broad enough that it could be nothing helpful. "That one vampire had huge boobs!"

His comrades' jaws dropped as they begun the process of accepting that he had just said that out loud. Silence hung over the room in a dense fog, rendering them completely breathless. None of them could believe that Private Gordon Cooksey had just said that in front of Sir Phantomhive. He was a dead man. There was no doubt about it.

"Everyone outside." Ciel ordered. His voice was disturbingly soft, yet the others did not hesitate to leave. They practically ran out like a herd of startled wildebeest. Those who tripped and fell had a hard time getting back up without getting trampled. Poor Private Danlaw had someone step on his hand before he could get up, but fortunately, it wasn't his right.

The troops lined up outside of the barracks and were already standing at attention when the bluenette followed after them. "All of you stand against the wall accept for Cooksey." he said before pointing at Gordon. "You stay right there. I'll be right back."

They did as they were told while the Phantomhive disappeared. They stood there out in the cold for what felt like ages, but they didn't move or make a single peep. They couldn't. For all they knew, Ciel was simply hiding and waiting for just the right moment to pounce on them.

It wasn't so, however, as the bluenette returned, loudly rolling an empty steel drum up to the group. He had a nasty look on his face as he stopped it in front of Private Cooksey. The man was angry. Obviously angry. And Private Cooksey had gotten on his last nerve.

"You're going to pick up this drum and you're going to carry it while you run around the parade square in a circle." barked the Watchdog. "You are going to do that until I give you further orders. Got it?!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Gordon shouted in reply. Bending over, he reached down to pick up the drum, but his hands were swatted away by the bluenette.

"No, no! Lift with your legs, not your back!" the demon warned. "The last thing we want is for you to hurt yourself so bad you can't continue."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Now the Private squatted before the bluenette helped him balance the drum on his shoulders before letting him go. With that, Cooksey ran around the parade square, hoping that his superior officer would be appeased soon.

He wasn't. It too far longer than the private imagined. His comrades were getting restless, cheering him on or telling him to hurry up, depending on how urgently they wanted to get to breakfast. Cooksey's legs were tired. His arms were tired. His shoulders were tired. Yet, the Phantomhive wouldn't let him rest.

"Drop the drum and give me push ups!" Ciel ordered, and Gordon did what he was told.

The cold concrete burned his hands, turning them red from both the temperature and from the rough surface. Gordon's biceps felt as though they were on fire, but he couldn't stop. If he slowed down, it would only prolong the punishment. Honestly, he was somewhat amazed by how well he was doing. Before he arrived, there was no way he could have even carried the drum for as long as he did.

Hearing the other man approach him and stand beside him, he looked up, expecting either orders or praise, but the bluenette looked down at him with a scowl. Raising his boot, Ciel brought it back down again on top of Private Cooksey's back, forcing him downward. Mind you, the demon didn't do it hard. It was just a push! But it was enough that it made things twice as difficult for Gordon's aching body.

"Don't get cocky." the Watchdog stated. "You've got a long way to go before you're really able to have the right to stand in the same room as Miss Victoria. What exactly gives you the right to talk about her in such a nasty way? Hm?"

"I'm sorry, sir!" strained the private, but Ciel just pushed harder. The weight was so great that Gordon knew that if he brought his body back down to the ground, he wouldn't be able to lift himself again.

"I'm not the one you spoke disrespectfully about. Would you talk about me that way?"

"No, sir!"

"Then why would you speak about Miss Victoria that way? She is a superior officer who is far stronger than even I." the Phantomhive informed. "What makes you think that it's appropriate to speak about her, or any other coworker in that matter, like they are a piece of meat? Not only that, but try to rope others into it! Even going so far to disrupt their ability to sleep and subsequently function with your antics!"

"Ngh!" grunted the private, trying to keep himself up. The best he could do was prop himself on his elbows. All his comrades could do was stand by and watch.

"Sir, this isn't fair!" called out Private Young. "You're keeping him down!"

"Fair? What's fair?" Ciel questioned, looking up at Wallace in order to address him. "Before you were living in your cushy, safe little houses where mummy and daddy took care of everything for you, Seras Victoria was saving London from the 1999 attack as one of only three operatives fighting where they fire was hottest. She was there when the Wild Geese made their last stand to protect Home Base and she's the reason why there are Wild Geese still alive today. She is perhaps the strongest, most capable HELLSING agent currently at our disposal, and what is it that you talk about? Not her accomplishments. Not her skills. Not her charming personality, either. What's the most important thing about Miss Victoria? Her breasts, apparently. Now, is that fair?"

"N-no, Sir..." Wallace sheepishly replied, looking down at his feet. With that, the bluenette finally lifted his foot.

"Get up." he ordered Private Cooksey, and with quite a bit of effort, somehow, the man managed. But, the Phantomhive was not yet done.

"You listen to me, and you listen to me good, for I will only say this once." he continued, staring all of them down. "No woman, and I mean no woman, will ever appreciate you talking about their body in such a graphic way to a group of virtual strangers. It is completely and utterly disrespectful. If you wouldn't say it about me, don't say it about your comrades. You will not speak about your coworkers in that way. You will judge them based on their accomplishments, not on how badly you wish you could fuck them. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the group replied.

"Good. If I catch you doing it again, I beast the lot of you!" Pausing, Ciel stopped in order to check his watch. Then, his attention turned back to the troops. "Now that you're hopefully a bit more educated on how to exist in the real world like a functional human being, piss off and go get breakfast before I feed you my boot!"

With that, the group scrambled back into the barracks to get their eating kids and then left to head into the mess. A few lagged behind to make sure Private Cooksey was able to get his things and make it. Many of them thought that the Phantomhive was making a big deal out of essentially nothing, but knew that if they argued, they would be next to face the Phantomhive's wrath. Ciel seemed to be in a terrible mood that morning, so the day was going to be rather tough on them.

While they were eating, he simply waited for them to come back, given that he didn't have anything else to do. Well, technically, that's not true. He also checked his phone practically every ten seconds for a text from his husband. Ciel hated being in suspense on the matter and really wished that Alois gave him permission to tag along and help him. Yet, he knew the importance of his mission and understood why it was something that he couldn't ask for his help on. The only reason Sebastian was asked to assist was because he could do things that were absolutely essential to the success of the mission. Ciel would have just been an accessory.

Impatiently, he tapped his foot and furrowed his brow while staring at the phone. As much as he wanted to call or text his husband to check on how he was doing, he couldn't risk compromising Alois if it was a bad time for his phone to go off. Did Alois even turn it on silent? Ciel sure hoped that he did. In some ways, Ciel worried about things more than Alois himself did.

Unbeknownst to him, there was actually a bit of trouble in town that day. The power for an entire block went out at once, causing cars to be stuck in traffic and street cameras to go down. Guests at the Gondola Hotel were outraged, and irate customers swarmed around the front desk in order to complain. Some, however, stayed in their room and tried to call, but to no avail.

"What the fuck?!" demanded a particular guest as he held the phone in his room up to his ear. There wasn't even a dial tone to be heard, thank God. The incessant sound would probably enrage the guest even more. "Fuckin' arseholes make me pay for fuckin' pay-per-view only to cut me off? Nothing in this fucking room works!"

Slamming down the device, he sat down on his bed and sulked. No power meant no wi-fi at all, so it wasn't like he could browse the internet on his phone. "Fuckin' shitty-ass data plan… Knew we should have gotten unlimited..." Looking around the room, he sighed. "Oh well… Candi will be here in a bit. I can probably get her to stay until the power comes back on… She'll want to be paid extra, but fuck her. Heheh… fuck her..."

Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes and took one out before placing it between his lips. He groped around for his lighter, but seemed to have misplaced it. Grumbling, he bent over to search the floor in case it fell, only to hit his head on the nightstand when he was startled by a voice.

"Need a light?" it asked, prompting the man to look up while rubbing the sore spot on his head. There, standing in the doorway of the room connected to the rest of his suite was a blonde man with bale blue eyes and a cat-like face. He wore a rather plain black suit and coat and smiled at the hotel guest, but his expression was anything but friendly.

"Who the fuck are you and how the fuck did you get in here?"

"I actually thought that I would have trouble with the lock. Hotels have those weird ones that you have to have a card to get into. But luckily for me, you left it unlocked. Waiting for your 'date,' huh?"

"I asked for Candi, not some bloke." the guest huffed. "Again, who the fuck are you? You're not a whore, obviously, so what business do you got with me?"

"That all depends." the blonde began. "Is your name Curtis? Curtis Pomeroy?"

"Yeah, what of it?" the man asked. He was certainly tacky enough to be part of the family. Gold rings adorned his fingers and he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with his overpriced suit. The jacket was half-hazardly thrown over the back of a chair, so the tattoos that adorned his arms were visible. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back like some sort of Hammer film Dracula, and although he was looking up at Alois, the menace couldn't help but notice that those beady, black eyes of his were looking down on him. And Alois did not like it.

"Oh, that's good." Alois said, stepping closer. "I was worried that I might have gotten the room numbers mixed up. I heard that you liked this one, but I wasn't entirely sure."

"What are you- OW!" Suddenly, Curtis felt pain in his cheek followed by the feeling of something warm and wet dripping down from it. Instinctively, he reached up to touch it, only to find his hand stained red when he examined it. When he looked at the blonde again, he saw him still smiling at him, but now, wielding a knife in his hand. "You cut my face..."

"Sure did." Suddenly, Alois' arm shot out and grabbed the man by the throat. Before lifting him into the air. "Huh, I didn't think about strangling..." he mused before tossing Mister Pomeroy into the center of the room. "But I want this to be as gruesome as possible."

Before the other man could even think to crawl away, he pounced. Curtis was swiftly pinned to the ground. His eyes widened as he saw his attacker raise his weapon, ready to stab him. The Pomeroy held out his arms and tried to shove the demon off, but all he did was cause the knife to slash up his arms instead. Alois didn't hold back, either. He slashed them multiple times, opting to inflict pain rather than killing him outright for the time being.

"Stop!" Pomeroy shouted. "Please! I'll do anything! Whatever you were paid, I can double it!"

"You'll pay to live, huh?" Alois asked, his smile faltering. It grew less and less friendly as time went on, twisting into something unnatural as he bared his teeth. His eyes looked down at the other man, with disgust as he promptly bore his daggar into the man's forearm as deep as it would go. "Well, then, you're an expert in the field. How much do you think a life is worth?"

"Ngh!" The pain was unbelievable. Both of them were covered in blood by this point as Curtis' arms were gushing. He couldn't think straight. He could hardly scream.

"You know, I really hate your kind." the menace continued, his tone nasty as his loathing grew more and more prominent. "I hate human traffickers in general, but your kind is a certain kind that's especially pathetic. You'll sell women and children to be tortured, but beg and blubber when you feel a little pain yourselves. Like you think you somehow should be above it all. How much do you think your life is really worth? Is it worth any more than the people you traffick and sell against their will? Is it worth more than the people who you get hooked on drugs and trap into prostitution to pay for them? C'mon! Name your price! How much are you worth?!"

Removing the dagger, the menace altered the way he held it for slashing as he cut the other man's face again. "Thir-thirty thousand!" Pomeroy blurted out, spouting the very first number that came to mind, but it didn't appease his attacker. Instead, it earned him a punctured lung as the menace stabbed him in the chest for the first time. Curtis tried to scream. He tried to call for help, but simply didn't have enough air.

"That's how much a life is worth? Do you seriously charge that much? The Johns you sell to must be loaded." He had to speak up over the man's screams. He had cleared out the other rooms while disguised as staff, so no one was nearby to hear it. It was just Pomeroy and Phantomhive and there was no one there to save poor Curtis. "Rich people have a tendency to be quite nasty, don't they? Think they can buy anything in the world."

"Sto...op…" Curtis wheezed, but Alois refused.

"You offered to double what I was paid, right? Well, I wasn't paid at all. So, what's double of nothing? That's right…" Stabbing once more, Alois kept the knife in the other man's chest before leaning in closer and whispering. "...Nothing. You're worth nothing, Curtis. Nothing at all. The world will be a much better place when your family is wiped from the face of it. You've been selling and raping people for centuries, and quite frankly, there's no room in society for it. You're worthless, Curtis! There's no point in you being alive! Each and every one of you!" Raising the dagger again, he shouted:

"Worthless!" He stabbed, and he stabbed, and he stabbed, again, and again, and again. "Worthless! Worthless! Worthless! Worthless! WORTHLESS!"

Blood splattered and sprayed in every which direction in Jim's frenzy. It covered his hands and face. It covered the carpet, walls, furniture, and even the ceiling due to the force with which he drove the knife into Pomeroy's flesh. Whenever a rib was struck, the knife just kept going, shattering it as Alois' mind went blank.

He didn't come out of it until the lights flickered back on. With the power restored, he realised that quite a while had passed. Eyes dilated and hands shaky, Jim panted as he looked down at his handiwork. Curtis Pomeroy's chest was stained a deep maroon, completely concealing any trace of the pattern that once existed on his shirt. Not even a wild animal could have done this much damage to a human being. His body was completely limp, his eyes wide open but seeing nothing. He had been dead long before Alois woke up in his cold sweat and realised just how far he went.

Standing up on wobbly legs, Alois knew he needed to leave immediately. Yet, when he saw the face of the corpse again, he simply couldn't control himself. Raising his foot, he brought it back down roughly on Curtis' nose, but it didn't hurt him. The only one who felt it was the Phantomhive.

"Don't fucking look at me." he growled.

Quickly. Quickly! Alois needed to get his head together and to get out of there! It was only a matter of time until someone came. After making it to the bathroom, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. Blood was splattered all over his face and in his hair, but he also looked somewhat sick as well. He had to remedy this, but he couldn't exactly do that by hopping in the shower. Focusing carefully, his face began to change. His pale blonde hair became darker and his jaw became more square. His demonic garb shifted as well, giving him an outfit similar to the one that his victim had worn. The blood on his body and his clothes was now hidden, but would be back when he dropped the illusion. When he was done, he looked the splitting image of the man, much to his disgust. Quickly, Alois would have to get to safety before he vomited from resembling this man for too long.

With the greatest facade of calm he could muster, he checked the room for any evidence he could find and then either extracted or tampered with it in some way, shape, or form. Then, he left the hotel room, gently closing the door behind him. He, as Pomeroy, made his way down the hallway, even going so far as to wave at one of the now functional security cameras. He didn't bother trying to check out of the hotel as Pomeroy. It didn't matter. The room couldn't be used anyway. So, Alois simply left. Without any fuss, he walked out the front door and onto the street. After a few blocks, he made it out of view before altering his appearance again. This time, as the man in the brown trenchcoat, the next, as someone else entirely.

He was absolutely exhausted by the time he made it home. Both from the strain of shapeshifting so many times and for so long, but also from the mental strain of having killed a human trafficker. As soon as he walked into the door, his shape fell, revealing the blood-soaked demon underneath. He needed to go upstairs and take a shower. His clothes, skin, and hair stunk of iron, and it was unlikely that just a shower was going to get rid of it.

Layer by layer, his clothes came off and were shoved into the designated laundry basket for burning. There was no way that those stains were going to come out, so into the fireplace they were destined to go. Being nude was one of the last things Alois really wanted to be at that moment, but there wasn't much choice in the matter. It was either shower, or hang around the house with dried blood matting his hair. Yet, even he had to admit that the warm water made him feel better. He shed his filthy exterior and became his usual, clean self again.

The demon was coming down from some rather intense emotions and was subsequently drained of almost all mental energy. Alois reached over for the shampoo, but it didn't feel like he was the one doing it. It felt like he wasn't quite in control of his body and that it was simply doing what it remembered. He couldn't tell how much pressure he was applying to the bottle and worried about it slipping out of his hand as though he was powerless to stop it. Oh, how the light-headedness made him feel sick. The smell of iron was mixing with the shampoo in a most disgusting fashion and Alois knew that it was going to take a few tries before the stench was finally out. Alois was definitely going to shower again later.

Eventually, he got tired of scrubbing himself and eventually stepped out onto the bath mat. The sudden coldness of the air outside of the shower was sobering. Hastily, the man dried himself off and got dressed, all the while knowing he was supposed to be doing something, but failing to remember what. It took some walking around to jog his memory.

"Oh..." he said, willing himself to pick up his phone from off of his nightstand. Not wanting to sit in his bedroom, he walked into the front room before collapsing onto one of the sofas. He knew he needed to text Ciel, but didn't know if he had it in him. Yet, he did want to talk to the bluenette, or at least have Ciel talk to him. So, after he took a moment to hype himself up, he called him, realising only after he heard the dial tone that Ciel was probably working.

"Hello?" Ciel greeted, answering quick enough that Alois hadn't the time to hang up. "What is it, darling? Did you finish your mission?"

Worry was apparent in the bluenette's voice, as always and Ciel's doting nature forced a smile on the blonde's face, as expected. "Yeah, I just got out of the shower and I wanted to hear your voice." Alois replied. "Are you busy?"

"No! No, it's perfectly alright. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Do I hear mumbling in the background?" the blonde questioned. He listened closely to the sound as his husband failed to answer him. "Are you in lecture?"

"I'm sorry..." the Watchdog sincerely apologised. "I'll call you right away as soon as it's over, alright?"

"That's fine. It's almost lunchtime, right? I should be good until then."

"Are you sure you're alright? I can come home if you need me to."

"I'm fine! I'm fine, Ciel. Promise. I'll tell you all about it later, okay?"

"Alright…" the bluenette said, obviously not convinced. "I'll talk to you later, then."

"Love you, baby. Bye."

"I love you, too. Bye-bye." With that, Ciel hung up. It was only after he did that he realised that he said "bye-bye" yet again while talking to his husband. Worse still, he did it in front of his troops. The men simply sat there in their seats, in awe at hearing Ciel's side of the conversation. Never did they ever think that they would hear the Phantomhive speak in such a way.

"What is it?" Ciel asked the group. "You're looking at me as though I've sprouted a second head!"

"It's just… We didn't know you talked like that..." answered an astonished Private Kidman.

"Well, how do you expect me to talk to my husband?" scoffed the bluenette like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have a life outside of camp, you know. He set out on a particularly risky mission this morning and I wanted him to call or text me when he got back. That's just something you do. Right, Private Choi?"

"Absolutely." agreed Private Jason Choi, who was the only one in the group who wasn't astonished in the slightest. "It's hard not to know if your spouse made it back okay from somewhere. It's kind of courtesy to inform your spouse that you got somewhere alright if you're on a trip or visiting relatives, but for something like this? I would be having a heart attack. Is he alright?"

"He sounds exhausted, so it's sort of hard to tell. I'm going to talk to him more in depth while all of you are at lunch." answered the Phantomhive while putting his phone away. "I'm sorry for interrupting lecture, by the way. It was most unprofessional."

"Don't worry about it. You gotta do what you gotta do." spoke Solomon Danlaw with a wave of his hand. "It was an interesting insight into being married to an agent."

Raising his hand, Private Wallace Young asked: "Sir, if you don't mind us asking, are there any unique ways being a HELLSING operative affects relationships?"

"I apologise, Private, but I'm not the best person to ask about that at all." the bluenette admitted. "I've always been an agent of some sort, so I have no point of reference for how 'ordinary' relationships differ. My husband and I have never been 'normal' in our entire lives, but we make it work and work quite well, if I do say so myself."

"What? Are you saying you've never been normal?" questioned Private Henderson with obvious skepticism. "Ever? What about when you were a kid?"

"Well, I was still an aristocrat, but I suppose I was a bit 'normal' until I was about ten, but I'm not going to go into detail about that." Ciel replied as he casually leaned on the podium. "It's a much too long story, and it's sort of discomforting to talk about."

"Oh, come on… It can't be that bad..."

"Do you really want to hear this?"

"Go for it." urged Henderson, expecting some rich person's sob story about how hard their life was being rich from birth and given everything their heart desired, but that is not what he got.

"Alright." reluctantly agreed the Phantomhive. "I just hope you won't think less of me in any way after I tell it."

"Oh, come on, boss. We could never!" enthusiastically said Kidman.

"Yeah, you're cool." agreed Private Withers. "Go on ahead. We wanna hear it."

"Alright, then. Here goes..." Ciel said, standing up straight. "On my tenth birthday, my parents were murdered and my home was burned to the ground. Only one of my servants survived the attack, while I survived only because I was kidnapped by the ones who attacked us. I was then sold for… let's see… given inflation prices… about five-thousand pounds to a group of cultists. I won't go into detail about the things that happened there. You don't want to hear it and I don't want to say it. After two months, I escaped before I was to be ritualistically sacrificed, although at a cost..."

Subconsciously, he reached up to touch his eyepatch, and immediately, the others made the connection. Their jovial smiles and looks filled with wonder about the amazing exploits of their fearless leader vanished as they were now filled with horror and discomfort at both what was being described and the realisation that they had asked the man to repeat it. Picking up on this, the bluenette observed that he had inadvertently created a bit of an awkward situation.

"Well, I rebuilt it all eventually, with a lot of work and the right contacts." he said while clearing his throat. "I've got at least some semblance of normalcy, now, but I don't think I'll ever really get the hang of it. Fortunately, my husband is understanding, so we're able to navigate things."

The tension didn't go away, however, as the group was still processing what they had just heard. Never did they ever consider that it was possible for their commanding officer to have endured something so horrific. Certainly, he had an eyepatch, but they had assumed it was from an accident in the field. They never expected that he had gotten it as a ten-year-old child! No wonder the man was so serious about training them. He wanted them to be as tough as possible so that they could handle the job that they were about to perform. Yet, it was somewhat hard for some of them to wrap their heads around how kind he could still be. As much as he wanted them to be strong, he didn't force them too hard, and he not only wanted them to be tough men, but good men, too. How could he see the good in people after that. The truth was, he couldn't, depending on who one asked. He couldn't for a long time, although Elizabeth said that while his outlook was at it's bleakest, he was still kind. It hadn't waned at all over time. It had merely become easier to display.

Ciel couldn't keep the group much longer after that. He let them out a bit early for lunch, leaving them to reflect on things. It did change the way they saw him, but not like Ciel had feared. Instead, they realised that he was far more incredible than any of them could have ever imagined.


A/N: Merry Christmas, y'all.

It's almost 11 here, so it's still Christmas. I've got about an hour left of it.

Uh... I don't really have anything particularly interesting to say... Nothing to really chat about this time. I'll be working on the next chapter as always and we'll all have a smashing time~!

I did get a question, though.

"You live in England correct? What year are you in...? College... uni?"

Nope, completely American. Never even left the country before. The only think "English" about me is the way I learned how to spell. I am in college, though, and it is suffering uwu

"Have you ever thought of giving Seras a very large arc that shows more of her character? I'm beginning to love her more and more and I love the thought!"

That's a really good idea, actually... I want to write more Seras, but I hardly ever have an excuse to make her show up. She also has the same problem as Sebastian. They both have a bit of "deus ex machina" syndrome... Meaning they can do almost anything to get out of any situation immediately if they wanted to... It's hard to find worthy opponents for them to fight without going like, "demi-god" levels of ridiculousness. In fact... She might actually be stronger than Sebastian, since I'm using the version of Sebastian from season one and two of the anime... He's considerably weak when you compare him to his manga counterpart, isn't he?

If you want to see Seras' backstory and all that, though, I recommend watching Hellsing Ultimate. She's lovely, absolutely lovely. One of the most pleasant vampires you'll ever see. Everyone needs more Seras.

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!