With a jolt, agent Solomon Danlaw lifted his head up off of the ground and violently gasped for air. Instinctively, he reached for his throat as he continued to choke before finally coughing. Old blood filled his mouth and he rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows before spitting it out. Panting, he opened his eyes and stared down at the brown and red glob on the concrete until his eyes focused. He pressed his hands into the pavement, feeling it, and making sure it was real. Solomon was awake. He didn't feel awake. He felt like he was still dreaming. Worse, his entire body was wrought with a dull ache that he could not explain or escape. It made things difficult, but he was able to push himself up to where he was standing on his knees and look up. Everything was still. Everything was quiet, save for the sound of loud popping in the distance and Solomon was alone. He was still at the barricade where he was last positioned.

The stillness of everything made him feel uneasy. Everything was dead. Everyone was dead. There were bodies strewn about along the road and behind the barriers that the soldiers had put up, all horrifically gored. Solomon furrowed his brow and tried to remember what happened. He had been thrown, hadn't he? That's how he ended up all the way over there, away from the barrier- away from Timothy. Poor agent Maddigan… He was still dead, wasn't he? Agent Danlaw reached up to touch his throat again. It didn't hurt, but it was crusted over with something. Pulling his hand away, Solomon examined the substance. It was black and smelled like iron. The more he rolled the dried speck in between his fingers, the more of the smell it released.

The wound on his neck was gone, that much he could determine. As to why, however, was beyond him. That said, he wasn't entirely upset by the situation. More than anything, he was simply confused. His body hurt, he was alive, his comrades were dead, and he had no idea what to do next.

A sound piqued his interest, causing him to perk up a bit more. It was a steady thumping sound that came from a little ways down the road, but it was approaching fast. Turning his head too quickly made him dizzy, but by the time that he recovered, the sound had gotten louder. It took Solomon a few moments to understand what he was seeing, but soon, his eyes widened and he was filed with a sense of urgency that forced him to wave his arms about and attempt to stand on his wobbly legs. They hurt. Everything hurt. It felt like his body was screaming, but he had to move if he was going to be noticed.

"Sir Phantomhive!" he called out, his voice breaking under the strain. He coughed, waited a moment, and tried again. "Sir Phantomhive!"

Success! The blue demon slowed down and eventually forced himself to an abrupt stop in front of the younger agent. Ciel paused to catch his breath before standing upright again, composing himself and clearing his throat.

"Danlaw." the baronet spoke with some surprise. "You're here?" Solomon let his mind catch up to him before coming out with an abrupt answer.

"I was stationed at the first barricade, actually. We retreated here, and.. well…" Trailing off, he looked toward the rubble. "Things didn't go so well..."

"Your neck..." Ciel pointed out.

"Yeah, uh… I was… I was over behind a wall with Maddigan, and we were attacked by a… werewolf, I think? It threw me over here by my neck and… Yeah, that's how I got over here?"

"And Maddigan?"

"He…" He died, but Solomon couldn't say it. It felt as though saying it out loud would make it real, wherein not saying anything and not looking for any evidence allowed for the possibility that it wasn't. Of course dead is dead, but it didn't feel that way. It didn't feel real. None of this did. At this point, Solomon wasn't even sure if he, himself, was till alive and this wasn't just some sort of dying dream he was experiencing. He should be dead, but isn't, so why couldn't Timothy Maddigan be?

But even if he did not say it, Ciel still understood. The demon looked in the direction that Solomon had indicated and saw the barrier. His well-worn shoes struck the pavement as he started walking, coming to a stop again when he had finally walked around the barrier and looked down. Ah. There it was.

This wasn't by any stretch of the imagination Ciel's first time seeing the deceased body of one of his charges. He had seen it many times before. Sometimes, he was even the direct cause of it. This was the first time, however, that he failed to feel apathy and he failed to feel contempt. Those green eyes of the youth, who had once been sparkling with hope were now glassy as they stared vacantly upwards into the night sky above him. The sight made Ciel wrinkle his nose, but only as a reaction to the sudden swelling of his throat.

He looked over at Solomon and watched as the man crouched down with his head in his hands. The demon could hear the distinct sound of stifled crying. Ah, there is was. The crying, shell-shocked, comrade who was left behind in the realm of the living. The powerlessness Solomon felt was profound, as guilt and anger built up within him to the point of overflowing. He couldn't save Maddigan. He's the one who is still alive. It wasn't fair. The people who did this needed to pay. It wasn't fair!

It was a scene that Ciel had seem many times before, right down to the same mutterings about how it the soldier left behind was somehow partially at fault, when it was very clear that the guilty party was the one who killed their friend. Survivor's guilt. Ciel could see the soldier collapse under the weight of the situation, as people often do.

When he was young, Ciel thought that this was simply a weakling being melodramatic. The feelings that these men felt was illegitimate, because Ciel didn't feel them when his comrades died, or even when his family did- at least not publicly. He didn't allow himself to have those feelings. He methodically stifled any and all signs of weakness at the first opportunity, emotionally stunting him, and sparking the beginning of his true fall from grace into monstrosity.

That is precisely why this moment scared him- not the exact moment itself, but the idea of it. Not only had he been afraid of the things that he would feel, but he was also terrified of feeling nothing again. Feeling nothing would be a sign that he was still the same. But feeling? It was painful. It was absolutely torturous. Yet it was the price that was paid for all of the good feelings as well. Ciel had opened himself up in order to feel the good things like like the warmth of fondness and the tenderness of love, but in that came vulnerability and the ability to be hurt by those things.

It hurt. Good God, it hurt. It hurt seeing agent Danlaw distraught. It hurt seeing agent Maddigan deceased. These were his students. He had gotten to know them in order to better turn them into the best soldiers that he could, but in doing so, he exposed his weakness, and he was struck hard. Had he not prepared them enough? Was there something he missed that could have saved him? Ciel had never understood these feelings before. He had seen them, but thought that they were irrational musings. Even when he acknowledged them in his spouse when Mister Phantomhive was plagued by the horrors of his own past, he did not fully understand. He empathised. He hated seeing the menace upset. Yet he had never felt it, himself, except for a few times he had wronged Jim. For an acquaintance, however? Never. He was glad that he felt something, but God, was it painful. He was growing, but Maddigan's growth had stopped. It was horrible. It was difficult to bear.

Yet Ciel had to. There was too much that needed his attention. Although he wanted to lament the death of his student, he had a student that was still alive right there. In addition, there was the not-so-small matter of the battlefield that he needed to tend to. He had to push onward and move forward. There was simply too much at stake for him to risk falling apart. Ciel could still feel, but he still couldn't let his emotions control him, either.

"Danlaw..." he said, capturing the other man's attention. By the time Solomon looked up, a hand was on his shoulder. "It's going to be alright."

"It's not alright! Tim's dead, the palace is probably under attack by now, and I should be dead, too!" the soldier replied. "It's over! Everything is over!"

"Everything is not over. We still have work to do." Ciel firmly stated. "You are alive. That's good. That's a positive thing in all of this. Lift your neck." He didn't wait for the lad to do what he was told and instead lifted his chin for him.

"What are you doing?"

"It's completely dry. From the colour of the blood, I'd say it's been a few hours. That makes sense. Any soreness?"

"Yeah? All over..."

"I can diagnose you right now, then. The pain you're feeling is only temporary. You aren't going to die. That much, I can promise you. Right now, your body is undergoing a metamorphosis, so you're going to be sore for a few days. From the evidence I've gathered, you have most likely contracted lycanthropy."

"WHAT?!"

"Relax. It is perfectly manageable and will not be a huge hamper on your everyday life. You also won't be fired. My husband is technically head of the Supernatural Relations Department, so I can promise that everything will be taken care of. I'm telling you this so that you will be aware that your body is not damaged and so that you will be able to push onwards, regardless. Right now, there is still a job to be done and I need your help."

"I'm… I'm a werewolf?" Solomon breathlessly pondered. His face was so stunned and blank that one might have thought that he had just had a vision of God.

"Focus." Ciel squeezed his underling's shoulder slightly before letting go. He then started walking again. "Follow me."

He headed in the direction of one of the few trucks that was left behind after the attack. The glass was shattered and the door was damaged, but Ciel managed to get it open, only for its original occupant to fall out at the demon's feet. The former driver of the vehicle had met a rather unfortunate demise, but more fortunately, Ciel noticed yet another opportunity.

"Can you drive?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at Solomon.

"Uh… I had a learner's permit when I enrolled in boot camp?" Danlaw replied, still shocked and still dazed. This had to be a dream.

"Good." the Phantomhive nodded. "Get in here and see if you can start it."

"Ri-right..." Defeated and unable to form his own rational thoughts, agent Danlaw had no other alternative but to obey. This only worsened once he got inside of the vehicle, however, as as he climbed into the seat, he saw the demon crouch down.

"What are you doing?!" he demanded, staring down at Ciel as the demon wrestled a pair of boots off of the previous driver's feet.

"Gathering supplies." the bluenette promptly answered, analysing the size of the boot before nodding. With a grunt, he sat down on the pavement and took off his own shoes, which were in a horrible state of disrepair. He had been running so far for so long, that the soles had worn down and were practically falling off! "He isn't using them. It's fine to take equipment from bodies in war if it helps. I wouldn't take personal effects from comrades, mind you, but a pair of boots does no harm."

"I feel sick..."

"Could be the lycanthropy. How is that truck coming, by the way?"

Danlaw turned the ignition key and the vehicle roared to life while the Phantomhive laced up his "new" boots and gathered a few more things. It was mostly guns and ammunition, but he did grab a proper jacket off of a body to replace the one he had formed with his demonic garb to conserve energy. As he zipped it up, however, something caught his attention. It was like the wind had changed. Out in the darkness, just down the road, he sensed something coming. Multiple somethings.

"What is it?" questioned Solomon, noticing how still the demon had gotten. His voice was shaking as he knew that whatever it was, it was not something that he wanted to be a part of.

Ciel squinted into the darkness and began to make out shapes. Then he made out forms. Finally, he made out details as the newcomers came closer. They were men and women in black suits carrying yard equipment. As they continued to walk toward the battlefield, Ciel could see that they all wore glasses on their faces.

"Reapers." the Phantomhive explained as he hopped into the passenger seat. He knew that being vague might make things worse for the already falling apart Danlaw. "Don't worry about them. They're harmless to us- in fact, they're a good thing, unless you're dead and you've done wrong all your life. They only want to make sure the dead go where they need to be. As long as we stay out of their way, they'll just do their job and leave us alone so that we can go do ours."

"I..." Solomon paused. "Maddigan, too?"

"He's in good hands." Ciel nodded. "I've met a few grim reapers. They're very professional. Timothy is a good kid, so I'm sure nothing bad will happen to him."

"That's… good." the other finally nodded, letting out a breath. "That's good."

"Let's go. You can drop me off and stay in the truck, if you want, but we need to get there, soon."

"Yes, sir!"

The reapers descended upon the fallen as the pair moved away. They harvested the souls, they made their judgements, and would do so from battlefield to battlefield until their job was done. The same was happening at HELLSING headquarters, as well.

Bodies littered the outside of the base as those who were still left standing finally stopped to breathe. The reapers stood outside, unseen by those without the proper sight as they methodically and systematically did their duty over, and over, and over again. It was a horrific sight. As Elizabeth stood amoung it all, she watched them, picking at the dead like ravens. It was strange, seeing them while big army trucks moved to the next battle, as quickly as possible, since they were already devastatingly late.

Her supernatural compatriots had already gone back inside to recuperate- all but Audrey, who was still laying exactly in the same place he fell.

She stood beside him, guarding over him as if there were a chance that something malevolent would try to claim ownership of his soul. God, she had no idea what Ciel and Alois were going to say… She would have to tell them once everything was done. She could only imagine that they would be devastated to hear that their schoolboy friend had died while defending his comrades. Shaking her head, Elizabeth lamented the situation herself, as well. How could she have been so stupid? She knew that she shouldn't have let him out there. It didn't matter that they needed someone to refill the canons! One does not send a spy to be a berserker! If only she had been more firm, none of this would have happened. Spotting a man approaching her in a black suit, however, she knew that there was nothing that could be done. Audrey's time had come.

The relatively young-looking man started jogging the moment that he saw Audrey. It was odd, given how Bones wasn't exactly going anywhere, but he seemed urgent. Once he was there, he stared at Audrey for a moment, getting a good look at him and pulling out his notebook. Turning the pages, he stopped, looking again to match up the documents before nodding.

"Has he been collected yet?" the reaper finally questioned, acknowledging Elizabeth's existence for the first time. Although the woman couldn't hide her gloom, she remained courteous and gave him the correct answer.

"No, not yet." she said, catching her tone. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound unprofessional. This isn't my department and he's a friend of my cousin… I'm worried about what he is going to feel about this..."

"Oh, good!" the reaper answered, running his hand through dirty blond locks while uttering a great, big, sigh of relief. "I mean- I'm sorry… That isn't what I meant…"

"It's fine."

"No, really!" he insisted, putting a hand up. "That was inconsiderate of me. But anyways, if that's the case, can you, uh… Maybe look the other way? Just this once?"

"Certainly." the woman replied with a nod, waving him off while turning her body so that her back was facing him.

"Yes!" Elizabeth couldn't tell why the reaper was so excited about this. Maybe he was close to fulfilling a quota?

He crouched down next to Audrey, but he didn't do anything right away. Instead, he simply stopped and looked at him with a solemn expression. Reaching down, he ran his fingers across the other man's forehead.

"You really have your father's eyes, don't you?" he said, uttering an almost somber chuckle. He moved a strand of hair out of Audrey's face before placing his fingers on the other reaper's upper eyelids and gently closing them. He sniffed once before picking up his deathscythe. It was nothing fancy- just a pair of boltcutters- but it worked just fine, cutting Audrey and allowing the light of the cinematic record out in the open.

Death plucked the first section out of the air and held it in his hands, examining it. "You were really a cute baby… I knew you'd be a cute kid, too..." He smiled pleasantly while looking at the reel, only for it t eventually turn into a frown. "Oh… So Kim got married, huh? I'm glad she's doing alright, but ouch, that sure stings..."

Elizabeth listened to the reaper talk to himself with a puzzled expression. She knew many reapers were eccentric, but talking to clients seemed a bit… odd. She convinced herself that she wouldn't tell Ciel and Jim about that, though. There was no need to worry them.

"God, this hurts..." the reaper continued to lament as he stared at the image of a young Audrey playing with his stepfather, Mister Baines. "I promised myself that I wouldn't be jealous if that were the case, but oof… That doesn't feel nice… I'm glad you get along, but… Ah… That's 'Dad...'"

His musings continued to be strange and grew increasingly stranger as time went on. "Not sure how I feel about you befriending demons…" he said. "They seem nice enough, but I don't know..."

He kept watching and watching until the film ran out, wincing as he saw Audrey falling off the roof. When it was done, he still sat there, breathing deeply in order to maintain his composure. "Ugh… Damn..." the reaper groaned, taking off his glasses for a moment in order to rub his eyes. "Don't cry, Peter… You promised yourself you wouldn't cry..." He took another deep breath and let it out quickly before putting his glasses back on. "Okay… Okay… Just… Fill out the document… It'll be fine… It won't be fine… Bu It'll be fine. It's whatever. I'll just deal with it. No big deal. Sutcliffe once killed people not on the list and only had his scythe taken away for a little while… I's fine..."

Elizabeth heard him flip through a few pages and scribble something down. The page was stamped and Peter let out another breath. "Okay… It's done… It's over… Whatever happens, happens..." The woman took that as a cue to finally turn around, only to see the man still crouching there, staring down at Audrey. The confusion on her face only grew increasingly more apparent as she watched him reach out and hold Audrey's hand. With his free one, he reached up and clasped at his own mouth as his eyes grew increasingly wetter.

"Fuck..." he said. "I don't want it to be over yet… I can't even- I can't even talk to you..." The hand cluching his mouth moved upwards to cover his eyes, moving his glasses with them. "Oh, Audrey… Audrey… It's not fair… Seeing everything like this, it's- It's just not enough… I missed it... I need more time..."

"Um…" Elizabeth called out, grabbing the distraught reaper's attention. "Are… Are you alright?"

Moving quickly, the reaper sniffled and wiped his eyes. Although he moved to stand up again, he was reluctant to let go of Audrey's hand. Painfully, he hesitated, before working up the nerve to let go. "Yeah..." he answered. His voice broke and he cleared his throat again until he sounded relatively normal. "I'm fine." He didn't sound fine.

"I'm… sorry?" the woman offered, wanting to comfort him, but also not knowing enough about the situation in order to see him as anything but a complete lunatic.

"It's not your fault." Peter shook. "It's the bureau's. Thanks for looking the other way for me… I really, really owe you one." Urgently, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. "I'm not really sure what I can do for an angel, but if you ever need a grim reaper's assistance, please don't hesitate to ask! I mean it! I really can't thank you enough!"

Hesitantly, the Hellsing woman took the card and read it. It was just a plain business card with the man's business number on it. "Peter Arden" was the name written on it, but it didn't ring any bells.

"Thank you..." she politely answered. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind..."

Finally, the man smiled. One last time, he looked back at Audrey, lingering as if he was trying to burn his face into his memory. "I hope there's someone to make sure that he's taken good care of." he stated. "I've done all I can do for him... It's not much… I really wish I could do more… The rest is up to him and the connections he's made. I… I should probably go, now. I don't really belong here."

"What are you talking about? Aren't you still working?"

"You're right!" Peter grinned. He turned to walk away, but looked back at the woman with a wave. "Back to the old grind! Another day, another body!"

With that, he ran off into the field before stopping and resuming work like the rest of his kind as if the whole exchange never happened. Elizabeth watched him for a moment, wondering if he was going to pull the same routine with every body. When he didn't seem to, she rubbed her forehead, trying to soothe it as the ridiculousness of it all overwhelmed her. Here she worried about herself being unprofessional given the circumstances, and here this man was! She told herself that she would have to try and get in touch with his superiors later…

...That is, until she heard a groan behind her.

Turning around, she stared at Audrey, watching him carefully as she listened. At first, she thought that there was no way, she heard what she thought she did, but as she cycled through all of her senses to get to the bottom of the mystery, she came to a very shocking discovery. Audrey's soul had not been harvested!

"Medic!" she shouted, trying to get the attention of those tending to the wounded. "I need a medic over here, STAT!"


A/N: This chapter make me feel really bad... I wanted the second half to show up at the end of the chapter before last, but I had other things I needed to write for school, so I cut it short. I really didn't want to make it a cliffhanger and have been fearing your comments since posting it. I'm really sorry about that. Audrey deserved better.

That said, I HAVE been reading your comments, still, and am so glad that everyone is pumped about Jim's fight with Abhartach! We'll be getting back to that fight VERY soon. I'm glad all of you are excited because I've been planning it for MONTHS. It was actually one of the first things I really firmly had in my mind when I came up with the arc, so it's been rattling around in my brain for a WHILE.

I hope your excitement continues, because it is for me!

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!