The sun continued to rise, causing all of the werewolves to change back and all of the vampires to require shelter. The Philosopher soldiers that did not fall into either categories were also too tired and too low on supplies to continue fighting. Even still what was the point of it? Their leader was gone. Well, perhaps "gone" wasn't quite right. He stood in the courtyard of the palace, taller than he had ever been in the form of a mighty tree. That still meant that he could not lead his troops, however, and that the battle had been lost. HELLSING arrived as the victors and began taking prisoners and tending to their own wounded.

Audrey Baines was in surgery and Solomon Danlaw were being properly diagnosed with lycanthropy. While he was receiving information on his new condition, Alois was in another room, resting along with his spouse. Neither of them had changed cloths just yet. What was the point? They would shower when they had energy. However, elsewhere in the city, one unaccounted for combatant was just waking up.

Groaning, Caesar Merritt scrunched his eyes tightly shut before slowly opening them. Once he started to wake up, however, he immediately started to shiver. He was still on the cold, wet, ground in the warehouse, slowly freezing to death in spilled fluid from the broken cloning chamber. He winced, cringing as a sharp pain shot through his skull, followed by the dull ache that he had woken up to. It took a lot of willpower, but somehow, he was able to force himself to flip over on his stomach so that he could lift himself up with his arms. Sitting upright on top of his legs, he rubbed his head and looked around.

The lights were still on, so there was that, but the entire place reeked of spices. He rubbed his nose, harshly expelling air from it in an effort to somehow remove the smell, but it was hopeless. It also didn't help that he was essentially bathing in the fluid used to grow in. It was hard for him to stand as he was already weakened from his deteriorating health, but now he was also freezing. It was like someone had left the front door open for a few hours.

Looking around the room, he saw the tank that he had been working on and groaned. The glass was broken and the contents had been stolen. As his memory served him, he recalled that the last one here was Mister Gardener.

"Fuckin' bastard..." he swore under his breath, bringing his arms in close and tucking his hands underneath his armpits. Sniffling, he walked out of the room, stepping through puddles and broken glass in order to find his "partner." There wasn't a single doubt in his mind that Johnathan would be furious. Maybe this time, the demon would finally kill him.

But the more he searched, the more empty the place seemed. He did find a coat hung over the back of a chair and put it on, but that was about it. The only other discovery he made was the the cloning room was perhaps the warmest room in the building. Soon, he discovered why.

Snow had been falling inside through the open doorway. It was much too heavy for Caesar to close back by himself, so he supposed he would just have to live with it and find more layers to cover himself in. Still, he peeked outside, just to be sure that no one was out there. He wondered if Johnathan had lost, and if he did, he needed to start thinking about his exit strategy before HELLSING arrived to clean things up. His suspicions were only validated, however, as when he looked outside, he saw a body in the snow.

It had only a light layer covering it, so it was still plainly visible. Caesar knew that this place wasn't very populated, but he still thought that someone would have kicked up a fuss about it. It had been hours, after all. The sun was up, so it must have been. Blood ruined the pure white ground, having spattered and stained it in some places and completely soaked in to another in a massive puddle.

"Shit..." Caesar said aloud. It was less of an expression of displeasure and more of one of astonishment that Johnathan had been killed and just left there. "Guess the feeling wasn't mutual..."

While he was out there, he figured he should check Johnathan for anything useful, especially the car keys. He didn't know where the demon kept them and needed to start loading it with whatever he might need. With everything that happened, he doubted that he had a home to return to, but man, did he have fun. Gently, the freshly "Mister" Merritt, having just about guaranteed to have lost hit title, tapped Johnathan's body with his foot. No response. Too bad for Johnathan, but good news for Caesar- at least, that's what Caesar thought.

Crouching down, he held onto Johnathan's shirt and started turn him over, harshly sucking air through his teeth as the cold stung his hands. The demon's body was heavy and stiff. Caesar wasn't very strong in the first place, but he somehow managed. Once the demon was on his back, the former Baron panted, desperately needing to catch his breath, but also in agony as the cold air slashed at the inside of his lungs and throat. He peered down at Johnathan as if it were his fault, taking in the glassy, red eyes of the demon, including the third one in the middle of his forehead. At least, that's what it reminded Caesar of. From the size of the hole, it looked like the demon had been shot in the back of the head. That was cold-blooded. He almost felt bad for Johnathan, given how epic of a fight he was anticipating, but he was shot in the back of the head! Sir Phantomhive was not messing around. Still, it wasn't any of Caesar's business.

Leaning down, Caesar got to work and started searching Johnathan's pockets, trying to ignore the demon staring at him while he did so. It didn't matter if he was dead, it still felt creepy. Maybe it would have been better not to turn him over? The idea of wasting all of that time and energy kind of pissed Caesar off.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling and with furrowed brows, he looked over, glaring at the demon as if to warn him not to try anything funny. He leaned a little closer in order to assuage his doubts, but maintained a somewhat "safe" distance. It didn't matter. Seconds later, his eyes widened and he gasped.

Just as suddenly, he lurched backwards, falling on his rear before continuing onto his back. Instinctively, he clutched at his throat, but it wasn't enough, so he began to claw at it, trying to dig the feeling out. Sharp pain wracked his body as his muscles spasmed and cramped as he writhed on the ground, throwing up stow as his eyes rolled back into his head.

"It hurts..." he pleaded before his head jerked to the side. He growled, baring his teeth before forcing his head to look upwards toward the sky again. For a brief moment, it seemed to calm down and Caesar was able to breathe a bit easier, but then, it was like some unseen force had pounded him in the chest and he flipped over.

Panting heavily to the point of near hyperventilation, he tried to force himself upright on his hands and knees. His pulse was rapid and his nose started to bleed. It stained the snow beneath him, but he couldn't see it even though he was staring down right at it. Then, all at once, it just… stopped. His breathing slowed and so did his pulse. The pain had stopped and he felt dazed, almost like he was dreaming. Blinking, his eyes were no longer rolled back, but had a strange red tint to them. After all of that, Caesar simply stood up, only it didn't feel right when he did. It was like he was numb. The sensation in his body was muted and it felt as though he were running on autopilot. It didn't feel like he was moving, but clearly, he was.

"Ugh..." A grunt came from his mouth. "Why are you so heavy? Everything hurts..."

"What?" he questioned, but the sound wouldn't come out. "This is normal?"

"You really are falling apart, aren't you? Jesus… It's like I'm an eighty-year-old man..."

"What's happening?" Caesar tried to look around, but he couldn't move his head. "Hello?"

"Calm down. I won't be long." Sound kept coming out of his mouth, but the words didn't belong to him. Slowly, his body made its way back inside. "I have a plan… I was saving this to torment Ciel with, but… Well, see how that fucking worked?"

"Johnathan?" he asked. "Is that you? Where are you?"

"In here. With you." Caesar didn't know why he was walking toward the clone room, but it was happening, regardless. "Don't worry, I'm not going to trash this thing. You don't need the fucking help, from the feel of things."

"Stop it..."

"I will. I just need your arms and legs for a little bit."

Upon reaching the clone room, Johnathan took in the sight. The soft glow of the broken chambers and machinery reflected off of the pool of liquid on the floor. He fowned.

"They took the jaw?" he asked.

"Yeah… Looks like it… The blonde one knocked me out..."

"Did they take the other one?"

"I don't know. I didn't check."

Advancing into the room, Johnathan stepped over the glass and through the puddles as he made his way down the first row of tanks and onto the second, third, and fourth. On the fifth row, up against the wall, there was a tank covered in a tarp, hidden among the broken down machines in the back. Reaching out with Caesar's hands, Johnathan grabbed ahold of the tarp and pulled. It was strangely heavy, causing him to grit his teeth and grunt. When it was finally off, Johnathan dropped it to the floor, allowing it to land wherever.

"It's… small."

"I did my best with what I had." Caesar said aloud, gaining control of his own mouth once more. "It wasn't easy to smuggle out of the Gardening Center, you know… Thank God it was even smaller at the time! I had to falsify documents and everything! You get what you get. Take it or leave it."

"I could always just take your body, you know..."

"You won't. I've been around you enough to know that you can't resist an offer like this."

Inside of the tank floated a small body with thin limbs and pale skin. Caesar lacked the proper amount of the protein he needed to continuously develop the clone's muscle mass, so it was going to stay that way for a while- at least until Johnathan shapeshifted inside of it. For now, it looked like the body of a young boy. Long, dark, hair of an odd colour floated in the liquid as it clung to the body's head. The same strange tint was seen in its brows and long eyelashes. A mess of tubes and wires stuck into it as it floated, occasionally twitching with the stray electrical impulse in the brain.

"I'm going in." Johnathan said, placing Ceasar's palms and forehead against the glass. "Once you get your body back, drain the tank."

Before Caesar could answer, his eyes had shut. His body relaxed and he was forced to catch himself before he fell. It was a good thing that he was already leaning against the tank, but that didn't stop his legs from buckling beneath him. With a gasp, he suddenly had feeling in his limbs and snapped awake. Panting, he tried to get his wits about him again. Rapidly, he clenched and unclenched his fists and shook his head. It felt like he had just woken up from a dream.

When his mind caught up with his body, he was able to remember his task and made his way toward the machine connected to the tank. With a few pressing of keys, the notification appeared on the screen in front of him, prompting him to look to the side and watch as the fluid began to drain.

Slowly, the levels fell and the body's feet gently touched the floor. It kept lowering until the body was sitting at the bottom in a fetal position. Truly, it looked lifeless, but Caesar could see on the monitor that its heart was beating. Caesar waited until the sequence was over and the green light came on, followed by the hissing of door to the side of the tank opening, breaking the vacuum seal and allowing air inside. Once that happened, Caesar had to act quickly and get it open.

He hurriedly grabbed the small being and dragged it out. Once it was out into the cold air, its instinct was to take a deep breath and cough up anything it might have swallowed. It hacked, it coughed, it spasmed, and Caesar rolled it onto its side so that it wouldn't choke. The man then began to remove the tubes connected to the body and gently patted its cheek.

"Wake up." he said. "I'm not going to spank you. I mean, ordinarily, maybe, but I'm not into kids."

After a few moments, its eyelids began to slowly open and then blink, revealing a pair of red eyes. Caesar was busily looking for signs of recognition in them, hoping that a soul did indeed reside within the body and that it was not vegative. The eyes closed and the body breathed in heavily through its nose before exhaling out its mouth. The eyes opened again and their owner frowned.

"Don't touch me." the body said, frowning.

"You there, Johnathan?" Mister Merritt questioned, raising his brows. Slowly, the body tried to get up.

"I'm here." Johnathan said, now sitting naked in the floor. Looking over at his accomplice, he frowned. "That's my jacket." he said. "Give it, here."

With a grunt, Caesar struggled to stand up, but when he did, he removed the jacket that he had found and put it around Johnathan's shoulders, but Johnathan made no move to get up. His body was weak. It was brand new and hadn't even taken its first steps yet.

"Help me up."

Wordlessly, Caesar did what he was told and helped the demon to his feet. Johnathan wobbled at first, but he was fine rather quickly. Experimentally, the demon lived his hand and stared down at it, clenching and unclenching his fist while rubbing his thin wrist with his free hand.

"This will do. I'll fix it as I go." He looked up at Caesar through long, bluish black bangs. "I intended to use this to torture Ciel with, but this is fine. In fact, it's good. That just means I get to hurt him with it three times as bad next time."

"So you're still going to shoot for a 'next time?'" questioned Mister Merritt. "After all that? After like, royally losing? No offense, but he shot you in the back of the head. Is it really worth trying a second time?"

"Yes." Johnathan bluntly stated. His voice was smaller due to his current state, though just as confident as usual. "I don't expect you to understand, but this is all that I have now." Then, his confidence seemed to fade as he looked down at his palms. "It's all… I..."

Caesar couldn't conceal the confusion on his face as he watched him. "J-"

"Go pack the car." Johnathan ordered, peering through his bangs. "I'm going to look for something else to cover me with and get the stash. We're going to need some cash to get me some real clothes. It'll be a bad look for a grown man to have a naked kid who looks nothing like him in the same car. The less suspicion we draw to ourselves the better. When you're done, go get changed. We're leaving right afterwards."

"I- Fine. Whatever… I can totally carry lots of stuff out in the freezing cold, no problem..."

"Stop being sarcastic and just do it."

"Right, right..."

Caesar left the room, crunching glass beneath his feet as he went. Johnathan realised that he would have to be more careful, given his lack of footwear. Or… anything-wear. For now, the Jacket was big enough to cover him, but he needed to find something else quickly. Reaching down, he zipped it all the way up to his neck. The sleeves were too long, however, and looked strange when he lowered his arms.

"I look ridiculous..." he thought, staring at his reflection in the glass of one of the broken down tanks. Reaching up again, he freed a hand from its fabric prison and moved his bangs out of his face.

That wasn't his face, but it was. It belonged to him because this was the body that he was residing inside of. He had taken possession of it. It was his face, but he couldn't recognise it as his face. All he could see was Ciel, just younger, weaker, and more fragile. Johnathan wondered if at any point the Phantomhive really did look like this, as he could barely imagine it. That rough man with his scars and his eyepatch, walking around while not being afraid of anyone, whether they be mobsters, government agents, arms dealers, human traffickers or just straight-up murderers, looking like this? No. He couldn't imagine it. He could see it. Could a kid with this kind of face really become like that? Could a kid with this face really transform into such an unyielding force? It had to be so, otherwise, Johnathan wouldn't be here.

This was Johnathan's face now. Immediately after putting it on, however, he wondered if he should go outside and take one good look at his original one. He didn't know why, but he somehow felt as though it were something that he might forget.

He covered himself with what he could find and Caesar packed everything he could into the beaten up, white, Saab out front. It was freezing. They hadn't started it and warmed up the engine before getting in, so they had to endure until the heater started pumping out hot air as they rolled to the edge of the road and turned left. They left nothing behind but broken glass, wet floors, and dead bodies.

The next day, cold, hard, soil was shoveled into a grave. HELLSING was taking care of the mess at the warehouse and palace; that meant that Ciel and Jim's jobs were done for the time being. All that was left to do was pick up their own pieces and put them where they were supposed to be. Although Ciel was never one for manual labour, and although assistance was offered to him, he was outside by himself in the middle of that cold January with a shovel in hand. Ciel Phantomhive was a man of principles. He allowed Finnian to bring his father's jaw back home out of desperation, but now that the danger had passed, it was Ciel's duty to make sure that Vincent Phantomhive was laid back down to rest. He didn't know why. It just was. That was the way it had to be.

So he shoveled away, struggling to shovel dirt from the pile as it settled and became cold, but toiling away, regardless. Slowly, but surely, he made progress in silence, closed off from both the house due to the barren trees as well as from the world. Everyone else was inside, leaving him alone. He stayed out there in the cold for hours doing this. His hands were freezing and his nose was red, but it had to be done.

After a while, however, he heard footsteps behind him. They were slow, and they were unsteady. Even though he didn't need to look behind him in order to know who it was, he did anyway, stabbing his shovel into the dirt and leaning against the handle.

"What are you doing out here?" he playfully chided. "You should be resting."

"I'm fine. It was just a little gut wound." Jim answered back despite holding his arms against his stomach. "How's it going?"

"It's going." Ciel said, knowing he wasn't going to make any headway with convincing the menace to sit idly. "Is there something you need?"

"Not really." shrugged the other demon. "Just checking on you."

"Ah, well… It will be a while longer. I've only gotten about… oh… one of six feet done."

"Need help?"

"No. I want to do it on my own. He's my father. It's my blood. My responsibility. I do appreciate the offer, though. Really, I do."

"Alright..." Jim looked like he wanted something else, but there wasn't much room in the conversation to insert it. In fact, things seemed to have wrapped up. "Well… Uh… Do you want some company or anything?"

Ciel paused to think about it, but then slowly, he nodded. "Sure." He picked up his shovel again, holding it with one hand. "You can sit on the dirt pile if you want. It'll be a while before I'll need you to move."

"Well, I certainly can't turn down such an exquisite throne." the menace said with a smile, doing as his husband said while Ciel went back to shoveling dirt. Both of them knew that this was supposed to be a somber affair, but they both still smiled like it was some strange bonding activity. Even stranger, they actually talked. They talked about nothing relating to anything that was going on. Instead, they caught up on what everyone was doing and what was happening next.

"Liz messaged earlier." Jim said. "Audrey came out of surgery last night and has been doing alright. They're hoping that he wakes up soon."

"That's good. We'll have to visit him."

"Yeah, but his ear drums are damaged, and it'll be a couple of weeks before they heal, so brush up on your sign language until then."

"Does Audrey even know sign language?"

"I- Wait, does he?" the blonde questioned. "I've been in Gehenna too long… I'm expecting all supernaturals to just know it… I don't know if he does." He fiddled with his phone, going through his messages.

"Stereotyping, much?" chuckled the bluenette, prompting the other to roll his eyes. "Anything else?"

"Kris' mum and dad saw him in his wolfy form with Logan… Both of them are fine… The Midfords are good… Oh! Sam's good, but Dan's got a date with that one bloke he's been kinda flirty with."

"What bloke"

"You know… That one bloke? The… The one at the front desk at the Welfare Center?"

"I remember a man, but I don't really remember anything about him..."

"This is why people in Gehenna think you're mean."

"People think I'm mean just from my face, usually, so I'm impressed that they let me make at least a slight impression, first." Ciel jested, throwing more dirt into the hole. "Anything else?"

"Travis and Pat are alright. They basically just stayed in. Nothing major happened. They're so good at minding their own business…. What is their secret? Do you think they'll share it with me?"

"I think it's probably just 'don't work for supernatural militias,' if I had to wager a guess."

"Oof… I dunno if I can do that… sounds hard…" the other Phantomhive joked back, clicking his tongue and sucking in air through his teeth. "Liz and Integra are still trying to figure out what to do with all of these Irish werewolves."

"I'm glad I don't have that job… Beating people up is easier."

"You know what Abhartach asked me? I actually asked me if I'm Irish? I feel like that makes a lot of sense."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. My accent's weird, and when I was little, everybody hated Luka and I for no reason. It seemed a bit weird, but I always thought it was because we didn't have parents."

"Could be. People didn't like Catholics. Actually, some of them still don't." Ciel noted. "Maybe you and Patricia should have a chat."

"Maybe. I'm not gonna convert or anything, but it might be interesting just to know. Or not. I dunno what I'm gonna do. I'm still kinda shocked by it. I think I've finally figured out why I talk so funny?"

"Your accent is cute, Jim. I like hearing you talk." Despite the bluenette saying this, the menace was quiet. That typically meant that something was on his mind. "How are you holding up?"

"My guts are fine."

"I mean… You know… Mentally."

"Oh. You wanna know if I'm nutting out, huh? Gotcha, gotcha..." Jim replied, partially poking fun at his husband and causing the other man to roll his eye. He stopped to think for a moment to come up with an actual answer, but shrugged. "I feel like I should be in shambles, but… I actually feel a bit better?"

"Really?"

"Yeah..." Slowly, the blonde nodded, mostly to himself. "I'm still… Like… I feel like shit, basically, but a little less so? I think… I think putting everything out there helped..."

"It sometimes does." the bluenette stated, pausing from his shoveling in order to look at his spouse. "It did when I aired my dirty laundry out to you, even though I still felt terrible. Saying it out loud is just part of accepting it and becoming okay with the fact that you're trying to be a better person, I think."

"Yeah..." Jim sat there and brought his knees up to his chest and tilted his head to rest his cheek on top of them. "I'm… I'm still not okay with it all the way yet..."

"You're trying."

"Yeah… Yeah." he perked up at the end. He was glad that Ciel said it for him. "I have an appointment with Doctor Tarabotti next week, so I'll try and talk about it then."

"I'm glad that you're talking to her."

"I am, too. It felt like things were getting worse, but the more I talk, the more it seems like things might get better? Even with you, I… I'm glad that you still like me..."

Blinking, Ciel watched as his husband averted his eyes and felt compelled to finally move away from his duty to his father for just a moment. After all, his duty to his family did not begin and end with Vincent and Rachel, but it extended to his spouse, who was still alive, right in front of him, and clearly needed him. Without hesitation, he stabbed the shovel into the dirt pile and let it stand there before making his way over to the menace and crouching down in front of him.

"I do. I like you a lot." he said, leaning forward with his arms outstretched. He wrapped them around the menace and waited for Jim to settle against him. "You're still my favourite person and I still love you. I'm still proud of you and am glad that you're here."

Jim paused to take that in and felt his eyes getting wet. He rested his head on Ciel's shoulder, knowing that the bluenette's coat was think enough that if his eyes spilled over, his husband wouldn't feel them. After taking in a deep breath, he sighed contently. If was rare, but Ciel smelled like the outside. He was also cold around the menace, so Jim reached up to hug him back.

"You're warm..." Ciel noted. "It's nice."

Jim smiled slightly at that. "I try my best."


A/N: "Do you believe in the resurrection?" Black Lightning is a great show, isn't it?

Anyway, some of you sniffed out my bullshit with Johnathan a while ago. I really REALLY wanted to say something, but wasn't allowed to. Now I am~! At least here. I'll wait a few days before I say anything on Tumblr so people have the chance to read the chapter first like always.

So demonic possession is a thing... Sometimes demons... are bad?

I was worried that the clone thing feels like it came out of nowhere, but if you're lost, it was there back during the Gardening Center mini-arc. It was mentioned that the "Cornelius Wainwright" clone was destroyed, but when Johnathan picked Caesar up, Caesar had something with him as a bargaining chip in exchange for Johnathan's protection. This is what that was~!

I don't think there's anything else that needs explaining? Is that it? I think that's it... Tell me if it isn't and I'll do my best to address it.

Quite a few of you said that you were glad that Jim got to have the spotlight during the final fight and I couldn't agree more! There was supposed to be an entire chapter where Ciel fought his way to Jim, but I didn't want to stop the momentum of Abhartach and Jim's fight to insert it, so it was cut. I wanted Jim to fight Abhartach for SO LONG! I actually had it in my head before the philosophers were even a thing! It was one of the first things I came up with for this entire storyline.

It makes sense that Jim fights him instead of Ciel, because Jim's whole deal compliments Abhartach's. While they obviously agree on some things, they obviously disagree on others, and those are kind of dealbreakers. I do find it interesting that they wound up complimenting each other so well, that Abhartach actually complimented Jim? That was a new development and I still can't really get over how that worked out.

Jim is great. The best. He doesn't really accept it, yet, but he is. I want to write him growing even more!

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!