Time went by and the world continued to spin and change. Repairs were immediately sent underway to HELLSING Headquarters and Buckingham Palace, but the latter wasn't heard about by the main group given that it was out of their jurisdiction once more. That wasn't the end of HELLSING' involvement with the palace completely, however. There were survivors. Some of them needed HELLSING's help.
One particular day, the training base found itself with a sudden influx in personnel. This wasn't surprising, given how the orginisation needed to grow their numbers again, but what was surprising with how many were not there to train as a part of the organisation itself. Instead, they were Grenadiers- soldiers who guarded the palace. Later, they would be given training in the basics of defending against supernatural threats, but more than that, it was decided that not only general defense was necessary in case of future incidents, but in addition, the value of supernatural agents was observed during the fight. The Grenadiers who found themselves infected with lycanthropy and vampirism still had jobs and would be put into a new unit as her Majesty's personal supernatural defense.
Some HELLSING agents were not pleased by this and were rather sour about the possibility of being replaced. They were irreplaceable, however. No one could train like they could. No one knew how. No one would ever be able to do what HELLSING could. There was no chance.
The Grenadiers were not the only ones who found themselves in class on a HELLSING base, however. Before they could begin their supernatural defense training, they had to learn how to be supernaturals, themselves. They weren't alone in this area, either, as several HELLSING agents found themselves infected as well, including agent Solomon Danlaw.
Mister Danlaw found himself at the training base once again in a lecture hall much like the one he had been in merely months prior. He found himself a bit depressed by that. It was even more concerning than being a werewolf, really. It wasn't very scary. HELLSING acted quickly and found not only a place to hold the class , but also an instructor very quickly after the battle against the Philosophers. There was still time before the next full moon.
Danlaw wasn't keen on being in a class full of strangers, when he had already bonded with his own training crew. He especially wasn't keen on being taught alongside a different organisation. He would endure, however. His feelings of apprehension quickly faded, however, just as soon as the instructor entered the room.
"Good morning." The woman spoke with a French accent as she marched her way to the front of the room. She glared at anyone who tried to make Allo Allo jokes under their breath with her piercing blue eyes, radiating a sense of controlled animosity at will. She was an unusual sort. She was short, with snowy white hair pulled back in a bun and a red uniform.
"Welcome, tiny, baby werewolves, to your first class on how to successfully take care of your basic needs." she said, setting her things down and placing a hand on her hip. "My name is Amelie Garou, but you will call me 'Corporal Garou.' Some of you have ranks in your own departments, but I don't care. You are all infants and that is all that matters."
Many of the soldiers in the room frowned, but not Danlaw. Danlaw was fascinated. He recalled Sir Phantomhive mentioning the Garous and that one of them was a werewolf and the other was a vampire. That was interesting. Very interesting. Danlaw decided right then and there that this would be an exciting and interesting class, especially since Garou once worked for Phantomhive. She must be very good at her job.
"First thing's first: if you are not a werewolf and are actually infected with vampirism, you're in the wrong room." Amelie informed. "You need to go next door, where the other Corporal Garou's class is."
"Are you related?" asked one of the soldiers.
"She's my wife." the woman said.
"Are you gonna put on a show for us at some point?" the same soldier asked, chuckling as he was nudged by the guy sitting next to him.
The question immediately sent a chill down agent Danlaw's spine as he watched the woman give that look again. But she didn't say anything. Instead, she silently unbuttoned the end of her sleeve and rolled it up, revealing her muscular forearm. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was on top of the soldier's desk, crouching down. She loomed over him, maintaining eyecontact with him as her arm was now much larger, much more muscular, and covered with white fur. Her hand was now the size of the man's head and her fingernails were sharp claws. Her hand closed lightly over his face, allowing him to see her through her fingers as she gently brushed her claws against his forehead.
"What was that, puppy?" she asked. Her tone was monotonous. "I'm sorry, but I don't quite get the joke?"
"N-nothing!" the poor soldier stammered, feeling his face get hot and his eyes grow wet as he trembled. "Nothing at all!"
Yes, Solomon felt that he was going to like this class. He smiled, looking forward to what was to come for the first time since the battle. That was more than could be said for a few others.
They weren't the only werewolves that HELLSING needed to train. They had aquired the loyalty of the faoladh during the battle at Headquarters, but the faoladh have no official training outside of the drills they ran while they were Philosophers. Unfortunately for them, that meant that they were starting again at square one.
They were all going through basic boot camp and found themselves in HELLSING cadet uniforms.. That included Claire Whelan, their leader. As much as she didn't like the situation, she knew that it was necessary, even if that meant temporarily allowing someone else to directly lead her. Unfortunately, things became a lot more awkward for her when their new Corporal stepped out.
It was a man with green eyes and curly, golden hair sticking out from under his maroon beret. One long lock covering his left ear and he wore a green officer's uniform with the right arm halfway rolled up and pinned to his bicep as his forearm was completely missing. Immediately, Claire could feel her face heating up.
"Good morning, everyone!" the officer cheerfully greeted. The warmth of the gesture was unexpected and somehow made the new recruits feel uneasy. "My name is Corporal Oliver Midford! It's a pleasure to meet all of you!"
It was a terrible arrangement for Claire, but she would have to endure, especially since there was nowhere else to put them for the time being. Accommodations for supernatural agents would have to be built. Luckily, they found someone who was knowledgeable both in construction and in supernatural needs. Even better, he had been looking for a reason to quit his job at the general store in Gehenna to pursue building!
Logan was intimidated by his new job as a supernatural consultant, but he steadily grew into it with each passing day. He didn't really like the fact that he had to blend in with humans in order to make them all more comfortable, but what needed to be done needed to be done, and he knew powerful enough people that he had to be listened to or there would be dire consequences.
His boyfriend, meanwhile, was also commissioned by HELLSING, but not for nearly as long of a contract. The orginisation also needed uniforms for their newly promoted supernatural troops. While most soldiers simply picked what suited them from pieces of uniforms, officers and non-soldiers could not. They either had to dress in civilian uniforms, or in officer uniforms, and none existed for supernaturals. Kristopherson was content to make the red uniform that Seras Victoria and Charlotte Garou wore that uniform, but there was also a need for coats, raincoats, and other accouterments to match. In addition, there was the simple matter that most clothes were too restrictive for werewolves, so he was tasked with designing a uniform with the bizarre fabric that the Research Department had concocted.
Speaking of which, they were very interested in the process used to make the wooden sword that defeated Abhartach- subsequently called a "Kendrick sword" after the incubus who made the weapon itself. The witch who helped, was the one who decided on the name as she stood amoungst her new colleagues in the research department as an expert of magic. Needless to say, Mister Dafydd Blake was not pleased with the competition. Even moreso, he was not pleased with the fact that people liked her a lot more than him.
Slowly, Wink waved her hand in a circle over a beaker and drew up the smoke from her hand until it finally poofed out all at once in a perfect ring. Then, she held it up to the light. "The last step is checking the colour and to make sure everything's dissolved." Holding it out to Miranda, she instructed: "Smell it."
When she did, the other woman made a face. "It smells like shaving cream?"
"That's how it smells when it's ready to combine with the other mixture." With that, Wink poured the contents of the beaker into a larger glass container and stirred. "We want it to be wet, but not runny, so I'm going to slowly add some until it's a cream. What's leftover can be used later."
"Do you need space in the fridge?"
Looking up, Wink looked confused for a moment before lightly shaking her head. "No. Just a cabinet is fine."
When she was done, she handed the mixture to Miranda. "This will heal minor wounds in two days. The deeper they are, the longer it will take."
"Thanks! I'll go take this to the medical ward and we'll see how it works!" As Miranda began to turn to walk away, however, Dafydd spoke up.
"How did you do that without using your honing chant?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "You can't properly focus your energy without it, so how do we know that's safe to use?"
"Because it's a basic potion that takes very little magic to make. Only kids need to use a honing chant to do it." Wink bluntly asked, picking up on the man's bruised ego. Glancing down at his hand, she added: "You don't need a ton of rings to make it, either."
Dafydd opened his mouth and closed it again, scrunching his nose as if he smelled something foul. After fumbling for a moment, he replied: "It's better to double-check."
"Sure. I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Wink obviously was not going to keep that in mind. She realised that she was going to have to put up with Dafydd from then on, but she wasn't concerned by it. He was a small-fry. Besides, she was only working there part time. She would be going back to Phantom House after this and she won't have to worry about him until the next time they met.
Daniel and Theodore met again. They had to. They worked together, but things had changed. Slight glances and knowing smiles filled the day as the two completely failed to hide their agreement. The woman at the front desk, Helen Steele, in particular, had the opportunity to see this first hand. She found herself leaning over at her desk so that she could look down the hallway at the slightly open door to Mister Westley's office. Her compatriot of manning the front desk had gone off to pass off some forms that had been returned by clients, but he was taking a very long time. When Theodore finally emerged, he still lingered in the doorway, smiling widely and laughing before finally glancing over at his own station and catching Helen staring. His face flushed. He had been caught.
"So, I'll see you tonight?" he asked, turning back to Daniel.
"It's a date." Nodded the other, prompting the other to turn. Theodore almost ran into the door frame, but quickly caught himself before continuing down the hall.
As he approached the front desk, he cleared his throat, stifling his grin before sitting down. Silently, he tried his best to get back to work, but he could feel his other coworkers stare burning into the side of his face. Unable to bear it any longer, he faced her. "Can I help you?"
That made Helen smile, herself. "So, uh… You and Dan have a nice chat?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we just caught up a little bit." Things were quiet for a moment with only the sound of him shuffling through papers filling the air until the woman spoke up again.
"So, uh… Anything happen between you two, or..?" It was a blunt question, but Helen often was.
Theodore paused for a moment, biting his lip slightly as he thought. Very quickly, he turned to her once again and said: "We're going on a date, later."
"'Bout time." Helen replied with a nod. "I'm glad I don't have to intervene."
"And do what?"
"Ask him for you, since it's taken so long for you to grow a spine."
"Hey! I needed to figure out how to do this! I've never asked out a guy before! There isn't exactly a manual for this..."
"Either way, it's done, so you go on your date. Just don't go stinking up the office with sexual tension, it's distracting."
"We didn't-!"
"Not yet, but people get that way. I can pick upon it, so keep yourself under control."
"You're such an ass..."
Helen just smiled pleasantly at that as though she were immensely proud of herself and the rest of the day went off without a hitch. The evening did, too. Theodore and Daniel walked down the street after the streetlamps were lit, laughing and carrying on as if they were the only ones there. This was the time when vampiric earlybirds started to go about their day, so the streets weren't exactly desolate, but they treated them as such. It had been a while since either of them had felt this way. They felt like schoolboys, although Daniel felt an aspect of youth that he hadn't quite felt before. The thrill of budding romance flooded his system as he felt himself not wanting the night to end. Before long, however, they found themselves at Daniel's front door. The date had to end sometime.
"So, uh… I guess this is me." Mister Westley said. "I had a great time."
Chuckling, the warlock bashfully reached up to rub his neck. "Well, dinner and a concert might not have been exciting as breaking into a school and vandalising a statue, but..."
Daniel playfully pushed against Theodore's chest, causing Mister Ravenscroft to laugh. "I was a teenager!"
"Still only a couple of years ago, though!"
"Oh my God, I regret telling you about that now..."
"It's just a funny thing about you." Theodore noted with a grin. "So… Do you think you might wanna do this again sometime?"
"Definitely! Maybe next week? My turn to treat?" suggested Daniel, smiling himself.
"It's a plan. Just say when."
"Preferably with enough time to find a sitter?"
"It would be nice, yeah."
The Westley's face spontaneously changed hues as it occurred to him that he was standing in Theodore's personal space. It was odd. He couldn't remember when they had gotten so close or when his heart began racing. Those pretty, dark brown eyes of Theodore's stood out to Daniel even though he was already enamoured with his face. It wasn't long before Daniel found his gaze continuously drawn to the other man's lips. Subconsciously, he parted his own, but then, all at once, he snapped from his daze and pressed them firmly together in a thin line.
"I-" He cut himself off. He didn't know what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. He didn't really know afterwards, either. Quickly, his eyes darted downward as he avoided the potential judgement of Theodore's gaze.
But the warlock only raised his brows at the other man. Theodore was perhaps not the best at picking up on things, but he observed the subtext of Daniel's actions. He blinked, only for it to be his turn to look away. A light pink dusted his cheeks, prompting him to reach up and try to wipe it off. Reaching down, however, he gently brushed his fingers against the back of Daniel's hand in an experimental fashion. Then, he just as gently took hold of it, prompting the Westley to look up. When Daniel did, he found Theodore looking him right in the eye.
Then, Mister Ravenscroft smiled. "Same time next week?"
"Uh… Yeah. Yeah! I'd like that." Daniel bashfully replied, knowing that he had been caught.
"It's a date, then." Theodore said, squeezing the other's hand a bit harder and bringing it up to his lips. After giving the back of it a light peck, the warlock smiled. "See you tomorrow a work, I guess!"
"U-uh, yeah! See you!" Mister Westley replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, but his date didn't seem to mind. Theodore walked backwards as he left, waving at Daniel briefly before turning around, prompting Daniel to return the gesture. With Mister Ravenscroft gone, that just left Daniel to head inside. When the door was shut behind him, however, instead of heading up the stairs into his flat, he lingered, leaning with his back against the door.
Placing his hands over his mouth and nose, he closed his eyes and did his best to regain his composure. Once he headed up those stairs, his little sister was going to see him as a flustered mess and ask questions, so it was best for him to simply feel his feelings first. It was a lot, though. His heart was beating so fast as he replayed that moment before Theodore left in his mind. He scrutinised his assumed "mistakes" during the interaction, but also revealed in the fact that Theodore had kissed his hand. No one had kissed his hand before. The way it made him feel gave Daniel a lot of questions about himself, such as how normal was it for a grown man to enjoy feeling like a princess. Slowly, his hands swept up to his forehead, revealing the dopey grin on his face. He felt giddy. He also felt watched.
When he finally lowered his hands again, he saw a face peering down the stairs at him from the flat. His sister caught him. Her grin wasn't dopey, but it showed off her boundless amusement at seeing her brother like this.
"What?" Daniel demanded, somewhat aggressively.
"Nothing. You were just taking a long time to come up, so I thought I'd see what you were doing." Samantha replied. "From the looks of things, he's a real dreamboat, huh?"
"Oh, fuck off! Just go to bed already!"
"No. I'm a grown up now. I do what I want. Suffer." the young woman said, sticking out her tongue. "By the way, it was awful sweet of him to escort you to the door, don't think?"
"How do you know about that?"
"I saw from the window." Samantha pointed, prompting her brother to blush all the way up to his ears.
"I don't care if you're grown!" Daniel declared, his feet thumping up the stairs as he hurriedly made his way toward his sibling. "You're in my house! I'll ground you for three fucking years!"
The Westley woman quickly ran away from him, laughing all the while during their game of tag. The noise, however, was enough to alert the neighbours, who were going about their business downstairs.
"Dan's home." Logan noted, not looking away from the TV.
"Mm-hm." his boyfriend replied, boredly scribbling in his sketchbook. "His date must've gone well… Or badly… I can't tell if that's good racket or not."
"Hopefully, it's good. If it's bad racket, I don't want to deal with it." stated the incubus. "You can go talk to him."
"Let's try waiting it out, first." Leaning forward, Kristopherson closed his sketchbook and set it down on the coffeetable. With a sigh, he then sat upright before leaning again, this time he leaned his head on Logan's shoulder and got settled against the lounging incubus. "Military uniforms are a pain..."
"Take a break, then. Design something else."
"Can't. I've got nothing. I'm just gonna veg out a bit, if you don't mind."
"What do you think I'm doing?" Turning his head, Logan looked away from the TV long enough to peck the other man's forehead. "Maybe we should go out soon, too."
"Sounds like exactly what I need." chuckled Kristopherson with a small smile. "Take me somewhere nice, babe."
"Sure, but you're driving."
Relationships seemed to be continuously blossoming all over, as it was not just the couples in that building on the corner of Macken Street who were healthy and thriving. Kristopherson and Logan were going about their nightly routine at exactly the same time that many other couples were, including one all the way over in Gehenna's sister city, Pyestock. That is where Philip and Farroel had settled after eloping and changing their name to "Faelad."
There was no ceremony for them. At the time, there was no one that they could have invited. They signed the papers indicating that they were now married in the office of Jim Phantomhive while their housing was being settled. At the time, everyone they knew would have still been on the side of the Philosophers. Even now that Farroel's little sister, Claire, was now on the side of HELLSING, it still wasn't really enough to warrant a large party, but being safe and together was good enough.
Needless to say, life had improved for them exponentially since leaving. Certainly, it was harder, as there were no servants to do everything for them like their used to be. They didn't have any clothes or furniture to begin with, and at once point ruined a load of laundry once they had acquired enough by not knowing how to clean their clothes on their own, but they learned. They bought a few rabbits and began raising them. They were able to make a little money here and there from that, but both eventually had to find jobs of their own. Philip manned the front desk at the Pyestock Town Welfare Center, while Farroel found a job as a scrapper- one who searched through the debris that had been cleared when readying the vacant buildings for remodeling for parts that could be sold or otherwise used. It was hard work, but it was honest work, and it was stable enough that he didn't need to worry about being able to provide for his family.
The Faelads were delighted to receive letters from Claire. She wrote to them while in boot camp and all three of them were eager to see each other again. This time, it would be in a more genuine capacity, as Farroel and Philip no longer had to hide from her, and she didn't have to try and pretend to be a woman of low integrity for the benefit of another. Unfortunately, they would be the only of their group to be reunited. Perhaps it was for the best, in some ways.
The Lexingtons naturally lost their title as a result of Stephane Lexington's actions, but it was not minded. Everyone simply did their best to pick up the pieces, moving into supernatural towns after the long, arduous process of being interrogated by the HELLSING Organisation about their involvement. They, too, did their best to live their most genuine lives, but it was difficult for some. That was understandable, though. They were trained to be servants and to prioritise the will of their master above all else. There was no choice in the matter. They were slaves.
Some of them made their way to Pyestock and even came across the Faelads from time to time, but they never spoke to them. The Faelads never said anything back, either. There was almost a silent understanding that neither of them wanted to see each other, so it was best to keep their distance. Some didn't mind, however, and found themselves surprised to be met with the same warmness and courtesy. The Faelads didn't even pretend to try and maintain the prior status quo. It was over. There was no point in clinging onto it. It made them worse people, so it needed to be let go of.
The one thing that made Philip sad was the fact that he could not be reunited with his own sister. Evangeline had vanished and so had Sasha Pomeroy. HELLSING was trying to track them down, but it appeared as though they had completely disappeared off of the face of the earth. HELLSING was able to find the hotel room that they had been holed up in during the invasion, but no one was there.
Everything was in order. The room had been cleaned since it was last in use and there was nothing inside that could indicate to their whereabouts. In reality, they had taken their supernatural bodyguards and fled, using what few contacts Sasha had. She was able to draw out quite a bit of money, but her assets were quickly frozen. It wouldn't last her long, as she needed to provide for herself, Evangeline, and their company. Very quickly, it ran out, leaving them no other choice but to find other arrangements.
The criminal underworld was not a safe place for them. With the size of their party, they couldn't couch surf with Sasha Pomeroy's friends. Her friends quickly moved on from her, anyway. She had been gone for months without explanation. They didn't want to hear any wacky story about supernaturals and she didn't want to tell one. It wasn't surprising when they were caught and in a way, it was sort of a relief to them. While it was doubtful that they would be held accountable for their association with the Philosophers, given how they were not active participants, and were merely on their side given circumstance, they were still investigated and would be held until that investigation reached its conclusion. They wept, but they couldn't tell why.
Many of the others were executed. For several days, there was a firing squad working on the grounds. They killed those who would not submit or at least move on from the Philosophers, they executed those whose crimes were too great to excuse. They were missing a few players, like the cyborg Raymond Blythe, but like with Sasha and Evangeline, it was only a matter of time.
That wasn't to say that HELLSING was needlessly cruel, however. Sasha received care for her pregnancy, although she refused to tell the staff who the father was. If they knew, then what would they do? Right then, it was her greatest bargaining chip that would affect how she was treated during her imprisonment and she knew it. She had something that made her captors treat her with more care. She wasn't going to give it up just yet. Whatever happened afterwards, she didn't know, but she knew that she wouldn't be getting the firing squad with this.
The losers of the battle were not the only ones who received any kind of treatment, however. Many, many soldiers on the victors' side were wounded, too. Some of them mortally. Funeral services were held for those who had fallen in battle. That included agent Timothy Maddigan. All of the Devildogs came to see him off. All of them. Agent Danlaw had gotten special permission to be there before his lycanthropy class started, and Sir Ciel Phantomhive was there to mourn as well.
It was strange, seeing each other in all black, but it was simply the state of things. Ciel regretted this. As he listened to the vicar give his sermon and to the sounds of Maddigan's family and the Devildogs crying over the loss of Maddigan, Ciellamented in his own way. He, as the commanding officer taught him, felt responsible even when he was no longer responsible for his well-being.
If only he had taught him better, if only he had prepared him better, if only, if only, if only… These sort of thoughts swirled around in his head. Ultimately, however, there was nothing that could have been done. There was nothing else Ciel could have done to change this outcome. It was simply the nature of the battlefield. Soldiers died when they fought. They knew the risks, but pressed onwards, regardless. They pressed onwards and moved forwards to do what they felt like they must in order to make the world a safer place.
It was highly unlikely that none of the Devildogs would fall in combat. Maddigan was perhaps the first, but it was likely that he would not be the last. That realisation sort of sunk in for the rest of his classmates. It sunk in for Ciel, too. People died on their very first mission all of the time. It didn't mean that they were bad soldiers. It was simply random. If it wasn't Timothy, it would have been someone else. But even the fact of inevitability did not make it sting any less.
The memories of bootcamp came flooding back for all of them. The banter in the mess hall, the late night deep conversations, followed by one soldier shushing them, the beastings, the rush of a job well done… all of it. Even if they didn't like each other or were the best of friends by the end of it, they were still bonded in a unique way. Nothing would be able to change that. Not even death. Even Ciel was endeared to them. A group photo of the platoon taken on the day of graduation had even made it onto one of the walls in his home.
He didn't know what to do next, but he knew that he could not mourn forever. He took his time to sort things in his head and to feel the things that he was feeling, and he simply accepted it. That didn't mean that he forgot. It also didn't mean that he did not care about agent Maddigan. It simply meant that he could not dwell on it forever and let it eat at him. After all, there was still so much more to tend to as life moved on.
He took the time to see his friends after the battle and went with everyone to see Bones in the medical ward right after he woke up. Audrey remained unconscious for a long time after the fight. It wasn't surprising. He had actually died.
His skull was smashed, but they somehow managed to piece everything back together with a few metal plates mixed in for good measure. It was grisly, but the doctors did their best. The head of the surgery department even stepped in and worked on him and was amazed that he was still clinging to life.
The stitches on the back of Audrey's head left scars. Some of them were bad enough that hair refused to grow along the lines. It perhaps wouldn't have been so bad, if they hadn't had to shave the poor man's head. By the time he came to, it had grown back to the point where it simply looked like he had a buzzcut, but perhaps most devastatingly of all, he had no beanie to cover it up with. The purple hat with the skull on it that he had worn since school was so soaked in blood that the stains would never come out, no matter how hard the attempts to remove them were.
The rest of the hair on his head continued to grow out as time passed and he was eventually cleared to get up and start moving around. Once again, he was placed on medical leave. The first was when he took time to recover after Preston Omid died, but now it was to recover after his own death. It was strange, walking around outside without a uniform again, especially on base. He stayed behind while he tried to sort himself out again and spent a lot of time with his dog, Cynthia.
He stood on the grass, taking his hands out of his jean pockets when Cythia brought her ball to him so he could pick it up and throw it again and watch as she ran to get it. Over and over, he'd repeat the process while his dog was having the time of his life. It wasn't boring, however. He was having a conversation while he was playing with her.
"I didn't know you liked dogs." he said.
"I do. I had one when I was little." Ciel replied, causing the reaper to nod.
"What was its name?"
The demon chuckled at the question. "Sebastian." he answered with a slight smile and Audrey snickered.
"You named your demon after your dog… wow..."
"What else was I supposed to name him? I was ten. I had never had a demon before, so surely, it can't be much different from a dog."
The atmosphere between them was strangely pleasant as they talked, but it wasn't too terribly surprising. They had always found it somewhat easy to talk since they were in school. Neither of them were as loud as Daniel or Kristopherson, and their dry humour made them a dangerous pair. They both cringed a bit, however, when Audrey threw the ball and it bounced off of a tree.
"Careful, yew trees are poisonous." the demon noted. "It'll be bad if Cynthia chews on anything from it."
"I like how you're worried about that instead of the fact that it's an ancient entity that used to stab people." Audrey replied, knowing the tree's origin.
The Abhartach tree could not remain in the courtyard of Buckingham Palace. No reapers came to claim it, either, so it was decided that the tree would be uprooted and replanted on the grounds of HELLSING Headquarters, so it can be watched closely just in case anything happened. From all angles, it looked like an ordinary tree, but everyone knew better.
"Alois did a really good job making that thing." Audrey noted, throwing the ball again. "It's a nice-lookin' tree."
"It was amazing to see him do it. There's really nothing like it."
"How is he, by the way? You said he had an appointment for something?"
"Yes. He's meeting with his therapist today. I'm going to meet back up with him once he's done. He's been doing a lot better since talking to her. I'm really proud of him."
"Your man kills an ancient evil by turning it into a tree and is tending to his mental health and shit? I'm proud of him!" declared the reaper. "Talk about a glow-up… I remember when he was a delinquent who drew dicks on the bleachers in the gym. Dude's the most badass motherfucker I know. I'm glad he's feeling better. He really deserves it."
"Yeah..." Ciel's answer came out in the form of a rather wistful sigh as he thought about his husband's wellness with a fond smile. It made Audrey laugh, which caused the Watchdog to slowly make his way back to reality. "What about you?" he asked. "How are things for you?"
"I'm doing better." nodded Bones. "I finally got my fucking hearing aid, so things are good."
"Were they giving you a hard time getting one?"
"Yeah… They kept trying to push me into getting a flesh-coloured one. Like, I know. I know it 'blends in' better. I'm not an idiot. I just wanted the purple one!"
"Of course..."
"It's my favourite colour! I have to wear it, so I might as well like it." Subconsciously, Bones reached up and felt behind his left ear. "I've started taking sign language classes, though. Not just because of this, but I figure it'll be useful when I go to Gehenna, y'know?"
"Are the doctors worried about it getting worse?"
"A bit, yeah. Mechanically, everything healed back and should be fine, but they think it might be nervous from hitting my head. Isn't that messed up? If I just hurt my ears, I wouldn't need this, but since it was my head, too?" Audrey said with a laugh, shaking his head. "I'm not scared, though. Sure, there's stuff I'd miss, but if it's going to happen, it's going to happen, so there's no point in getting bent out of shape over what may or may not happen, right?"
"That's true. That's just how it is, sometimes." nodded the Phantomhive. "I sort of approach missions in the same way."
He turned to the other man at the same time Audrey turned to him. Ciel could see Audrey's hearing aid and Audrey could see Ciel's eyepatch. Somehow, the timing of it hit them both just right and caused them to laugh.
"Oh my god, I feel so fucking stupid..." Audrey came out with.
"Why?"
"I just now get why you and Jim always stand next to each other the same way all the time… He stands on your right so you can see him!"
Chuckling, Ciel gave the other an incredulous look and asked: "You just now got that?"
"Like I said: 'fucking stupid.'" Bones shook. "I've been doing the same thing with my ear."
"On the bright side, we at least compliment." suggested Ciel, pointing to his good eye. "I can see you and you can hear me when we stand next to each other."
"That's right! It's actually kind of a good thing that it's my left ear! There's that, and the guy whose desk is next to mine is really chatty. Like, chatty about boring shit that I don't and have never pretended to care about. Now if I don't wanna hear him? Just turn off my hearing aid. See? I was right not to be worried. This is completely fine."
"I do see it." jested the bluenette. "I'm kind of curious if there's other quirks, though, like there is with one eye."
"Probably. I don't know about how it compares to one eye, but it does make me a bit tired to focus that hard on one side. It's also kind of hard to tell which direction a sound is coming from." Audrey said, crouching down in order to rub underneath Cynthia's chin. "Not great since I've got a dog in my house."
"I assume it takes practise to get used to." nodded the bluenette, bending down at the waist as he reached down and patted the rottweiler on the back.
"Yeah… The most devastating thing about this is still the fact that I need to go hat shopping."
"You don't need to wear a hat at all times, Bones..."
"Yes, I do! My head is freezing!"
It was a strange conversation. It wasn't the first time that Ciel had bonded with someone over a disability, but it was the first time he did over a physical one. It was strange. It was like an odd sense of unique familiarity had been born between them from that conversation. He left after assuring Audrey that they would talk whenever Audrey was feeling apprehensive about something or simply needed someone to give the bureaucrats responsible for Audrey's benefits and equipment a kick in the ass. Sometimes, it definitely paid to have friends in high-ranking places, but Audrey assured him that he would only call on him when pushing with his own power didn't work. In a way, Audrey was glad to have something else to focus on, as it provided a good distraction from more painful recent events.
Audrey had learned about his biological father. He knew his name now, "Peter Arden." It was bizarre to have a name and a description to provide some context to a concept that had only seemed vague and enigmatic before. It was like it had been made "real," yet Audrey had trouble accepting it. He didn't really want to accept it. Accepting it meant that he had to deal with it, and truthfully, he was fine not knowing.
He was only interested in where he came from, species-wise, not in terms of parentage. Audrey already had a father. He loved him and didn't want another one. It didn't matter how sorry Peter was or how badly he wanted to be a part of Audrey's life. There wasn't any room for him. Of course Audrey was grateful for his life. He was grateful that he was still alive. That said, it irritated him, in a way. He didn't like the idea that he may be indebted to a guy who he really had no interest in seeing. Audrey felt bad about it, but he also didn't care. He didn't care if some cruel fate or rule kept his Peter and his mother apart. Peter wasn't his dad. He may be Audrey's father, but he is not his dad and the interest in possibly changing that simply wasn't there.
Instead, Audrey focused his time away from work on adjusting to life and spending time with his dog. He was determined not to shut everyone out this time and had already arranged to meet up with the Garous and Seras later that week. Lizzie was invited, too. Then he would have to arrange to meet up with his friends from school- especially Ciel. He wanted to talk to Ciel some more about this, and was going to take the Phantomhive up on his offer if anything came up. Their disabilities did not match by any stretch of the imagination and they didn't expect to have that many similar experiences, but it was nice to have someone close who understood to some extent. If only there was someone to teach him how to deal with Peter, then he would be set. There isn't a handbook for that, though. There were plenty of kids who only knew their biological parent's name and had no interest in seeing them, but there weren't many kids who had the added fee of that parent resurrecting them from the dead.
It shouldn't feel like a fee is owed for one's life, but it did. Unbeknownst to him, however, he did have a friend who understood the cost of living. In fact, that was part of what Jim was in therapy for. It wasn't the same situation by any means, but Jim knew what it was like to feel like there is a debt to be owed for being alive. With Jim, however, part of that debt was acquired from the last time that he was living.
There he was, in his therapist's office, explaining why he felt as though he robbed some other kid of his own life. How cruel was that? But it was necessary for him to put into words. It was necessary for him to voice the things he saw, the things he did, and the things he feels. The feeling that he does not deserve this life that he lives as the sole survivor would never go away if he didn't. He would never lose the feeling that he had to be responsible for the ones who were left behind, either.
"Sometimes, I wonder what the scientists who dug up the place to study their remains think." Jim said, his tone somewhat absentminded. "I don't wanna actually read their reports or anything they write on it, because it'll just piss me off. I have to pretend I was never there, so I can't even correct them when they fuck something up. They better notice every single bit of fucked up shit those kids were put through..." Jim trailed off, caught up with himself again, and then sighed. "I know they can't, though. There's not enough left, for that…"
"You keep saying 'those kids.'" Doctor Tarabotti observed. "Is there a reason for that?"
"What do you mean?"
"'Those kids' implies that you're not associated with them. I was wondering why."
"I… I left them behind to go upstairs." the blonde stated. "You already know that. I didn't suffer like they did."
"You still suffered, Mister Phantomhive." The Doctor was careful when referring to him by name. "Jim" was too personal. It was too close to everything. "Phantomhive" provided a bit of a safe buffer for him to talk from behind. "Is your pain not valid?"
"It is. I… I did suffer. I suffered a lot, but not like..." Jim paused and took another deep breath before continuing. "I did a lot to make sure it wasn't worse."
"What about them? Do you think they didn't?"
"I-I don't know…" Pausing, Jim shook his head. "No. That's not true. They did. They punished the ones who fought back in front of everybody so everyone knew what happens if you try anything. A lot of them went along with it to make things easier, I think. That's what I did and I'm probably not the only one who had that idea..."
"What do you think they would have done in your position?" questioned Doctor Tarabotti.
"The same thing I did..."
"Then why is it your responsibility to cope with?"
"Because I… I laughed at them along with the men to save myself, like I said. Even if they would've done the same thing, that doesn't mean what I did wasn't horrible and didn't hurt anybody. It did, and there's no way to take that back."
The psychiatrist jotted down a few notes on her clipboard. Most impressively, she somehow managed to do it and talk at the same time. "I think that you're really big to notice that." she stated. "You're a very empathetic person, Jim. That's a good thing. You're able to understand people's feelings and you're very observant of your impact on others. From what you've told me, that is a massive improvement and you need to be aware of that."
"I know. I… I like looking after other people, I think. That's why I like my job at Supernatural Relations so much. I just- Does it really count if I did those things, though? Doesn't… I basically helped a paedophile. I don't think you can come back from that."
"That isn't the reason you gave before."
"I know. I did it to help myself, but, y'know… by extension..."
"Did it help them, though?"
"I mean, not really, but it was like I was agreeing with them. Even if I wasn't really, it looked like it to the other kids..."
Pausing, Doctor Tarabotti looked over her notes. Or rather, she flipped through pages and looked at them. In reality, she was buying herself some time in order to figure out how to phrase her next inquiry sensibly.
"The boy..." she began, "The one that died… Do you feel comfortable talking about him?"
"Not… really?" Jim answered. "I don't feel comfortable talking about any of this, really. I… I don't really want to talk about him, no..."
"Then we will leave it for another day." the doctor said. "You've already talked about a lot during this session. You're making great progress."
"I feel better after talking about it, but I don't think I'm ready to talk about that right now."
"Then we won't. Not now, at least. It's best to come to it when you're in a better place, mentally."
"I usually am not this stressed when I walk in here, I've discovered." the menace jested, arching an eyebrow in a faux-accusing manner.
"While talking can relieve stress, it can also build it. During our sessions, you discuss some pretty heavy stuff that causes you a lot of pain not just to have on your shoulders, but to even think about, too. Even worse, you're sifting through and sorting through things that you probably haven't even consciously thought about in a while, and you're having to confront all of these feelings at once. Combine that with any lingering fear you may have that you might be judged and it is no wonder, really. It's not that uncommon, I'm afraid."
"I do feel better. I'm just stressed for now. It feels weird. I just… I don't wanna talk about that right now..."
"Is there anything that you do want to talk about?"
Pausing, Jim thought, but he didn't think long, as a question immediately jumped out at him. He didn't ask it right away, though. Instead, he hesitated, trying to think about whether or not it seemed strange. In the end, however, none of this was "normal" and that is what landed him in therapy to begin with.
"I… I still wonder if it's okay for me to… uh… ugh! I don't know how to put it…" He rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I want to just… live my life without feeling guilty about it… Y'know? I feel… stupid for having to ask 'is this okay?' over and over again for basic shit, like: 'is it okay that I have a happy marriage?' or 'is it okay that I have a job I like?' Like that..."
"Is there a reason why that wouldn't be alright?"
"Like… okay, so I made things so things would be easier on myself, right? I did it while throwing some other kids under the bus. I know other kids did, too, though. I mean, I saw how they fought for food and stole from each other- but I didn't have to do that for long. See what I mean? It's not that I was the best, most smartest person there, it was just that I got lucky and I did everything I could to keep things that way. Somehow, that made it so that I could steal the Earl's title, and that set me up to meet Ciel, which set me up for dying, which set me up for being resurrected, which set me up to have all of the things I have now. It's like I cheated! I did all of that shit, but now I'm being rewarded for it? How fair is that?"
"Mister Phantomhive, I want you to rewind for a second, because you said something that I found interesting." the woman began, "I am aware that you died once, but you, yourself appeared to have just claimed that being actually murdered was somehow a privilege? Is that correct?"
"I mean… Yeah, you have a point, I guess… but… I dunno..."
"How did you die, again?"
"My… butler betrayed me and… smashed my head in?"
"The same butler that you..."
"...sought constant approval of and desperately needed to act as a source of positive reaffirmation. I get what you're getting at..." the blonde continued for her, just as she intended. She looked at him sort of incredulously as she carried on.
"So even dying under those circumstances isn't enough to atone for that?" she questioned. "What would be?"
"That's kind of the problem… I don't know. I see what you mean, I- I know it's stupid…"
"It isn't stupid." Doctor Tarabotti reassured. Her tone was gentle and her face calm again. "Emotions are just like that. They can't be reasoned away. All you can do is sort through them, process them, and do your best to move on. This is a viscous cycle, Jim… I know you know that… If not even the betrayal of a loved one resulting in your death can get rid of your feelings of guilt, then there is no amount of suffering that you can endure that will."
Jim listened to her, quietly, hanging on to her every word. She knew she was right. In fact, he had told himself the same thing many times, but somehow, hearing it from someone else made him cry. He didn't want them to, but the tears silently trickled down his cheeks against his will.
"I know." His voice creaked a bit, yet he still sounded sure. "I can't keep holding out for something to happen where I've magically atoned for what I did. I know I need to let it go. I'm… I'm trying."
What Doctor Tarabotti said was a gamble. There was a chance that it would backfire and make him feel worse, but after meeting with him somewhat regularly, she believed that there was a high chance that he would find it reassuring as a third party confirming what he had already suspected. He had said it himself before. She was just saying it back to him, even though he had heard it before from his spouse. The thing was, however, that Jim knew that Ciel had an inherent bias toward him. Doctor Tarabotti, however, did not, which made her opinion on the matter seem a bit more believable, as much as he did in fact love his precious husband.
"None of this was your fault." she said, waiting for his response. When he nodded in agreement, she continued. "You did what you needed to in order to keep yourself safe. The version of yourself that you constructed in order to cope is just that. It is a fabrication. It is not reflective of who you truly are as a person. It does not reflect who you are if you were given a choice, because there was no choice- moral or otherwise. While that does not erase your previous actions, it does provide context for them."
"How? I lived, but at someone else's expense. How does 'context' make that okay?"
"Mister Phantomhive, I have given counsel to many, many soldiers." the woman began again. "Self-preservation, as much as it would be nice if it was, is not a moral choice. It is basic instinct that exists in all living things and how and when it manifests can't be controlled. Was there any aspect of your imprisonment that was within your control? Did you possess the ability to deny your captors? Did you feel safe enough to do anything to help your fellow slaves?"
"No..." the menace replied. "I wasn't..."
"Do you believe that there is such a thing as free choice when the only other option is death?"
"No." Jim said more surely, staring down at the floor with his brow furrowed. It wasn't an angry expression. It was more like one of concern for himself.
"Why?"
"The choice is fake." the blonde stated. "A 'choice' that is made under duress isn't freely given. It's fake. It's… coerced… It's..." Reaching up to his face, he wiped his cheek with his hand. "It's not my fault." He let out a breath that he didn't know that he had been holding in until then before looking up again at the woman. "It's not my fault."
He needed to say it out loud and he needed to mean it. He needed to believe it. He needed to say it without any plausible evidence to the contrary creeping back into his mind because if he didn't, it would be pointless- just a hollow mantra that doesn't hold any weight. Somehow, he felt rather pleased with himself, saying that. Shortly afterward, his session ended and he would start the next session with new thoughts and feelings.
That didn't mean that he was by any means "cured," however. Not by a long shot. He simply felt a bit better about things as he slowly chiseled away at his guilt piece by piece. It wasn't the only emotion that lingered in his heart, nor was it the only pain. There were some things that would never heal back completely, and it would be ridiculous to assume that they would. Trauma made Jim. While Abhartach ranted and raved about how he was "forged in fire," there was some truth to that, as much as he hated to admit it. His worldview had been shaped by his experience and while that is something that is not impossible to change aspects of, it was integral to who he was as a person. Ultimately, his goal was not to rid himself of everything that made him "Jim." It was simply to become alright with being "Jim." That's all he wanted. That's all he needed.
He wiped his face and left the doctor's office with a friendly "goodbye" before stepping into the waiting room and arranging another appointment at the front desk. Immediately, however, he felt that he was being watched. The blonde ignored it until he got himself sorted. He didn't even acknowledge the bluenette getting up and walking toward him until he turned around.
"Ready to go?" Ciel asked, carefully looking his spouse over in order to make sure he was alright. He did notice that the blonde had been crying, but didn't want to draw too much attention to it in public.
"Yeah. I'm good." Jim replied, snaking an arm around Ciel's back as he partially ushered the other Phantomhive out. Once they were out the door and out of earshot, he added: "Hey, can you put your arm around me?"
"Certainly." the bluenette replied, putting an arm around Jim's shoulders just as instructed and giving him a firm squeeze as he drew him in closer for just a moment. "Is this alright?"
"Yeah, that's good." sighed the menace in a rather content fashion. He leaned his head against his husband momentarily, admittedly making it a bit difficult to walk, but he didn't mind. "Doctor Tarabotti said that people who have experienced trauma or are anxious sometimes like... compression, or whatever."
"Like hugs?"
"Yeah, hugs, but also like, y'know how both of us tie our shoes really tight? Kinda like that. I also hear that weighted blankets are a thing."
"Do you really need anything to make the bed feel even more cozy?" Ciel teasingly questioned. "You have enough trouble getting up as it is."
"Well, if you stopped being so fucking cuddly, it might make it easier!"
"I suppose… We'll look into it."
"I was wondering if it might help us sleep when I have to go to Pyestock and stuff." mused the menace. "Though I can't imagine it being a good replacement, it might help, at least."
"I'm skeptical about that, too, but it's worth a shot. Anything else?"
"Oh, y'know… Just the usual horrors. I'll fill you in after while. I'm kinda tired about talking about that stuff right now..."
"Understandable. Are you alright, though?" questioned the bluenette, getting to the most basic of questions that he needed answered before he could be content with dropping the subject for the time being. "You look like you've been crying..."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I got a little emotional, but it's all good. I'm feeling a bit more hopeful at the moment, actually. I mean, I still want to go sit down and not think about anything, but I feel better about it."
"That's good…"
"Worried about me?"
"Of course. If someone makes you cry, it's nothing to sneeze at. I need to know if I need to fight anyone on your behalf."
"If I ever need you to defend my honour, I'll be sure to let you know." Jim informed.
"I mean, it's unlikely, given how you are, but what if? You might not be in an honour-defending mood and need me to tag in."
"Is that the only reason why you could think of?"
"You're a very strong man who can defend his own honour. In fact, I know that you prefer it! It would be incredibly rude of me to just assume, don't you think?" Ciel asked as they approached their car. They separated once they arrived at the driver's side door, but the Phantomhive still wasn't yet done.
"Hey," he began. "Do you… maybe want to watch a movie together when we get home?"
The question caused Jim to grin. "Sure. As long as you make popcorn and don't mind being used as a pillow."
"You want me to make popcorn?" a baffled Watchdog questioned. "Me?"
"Ciel, you just hit the 'popcorn' button on the microwave..."
"I think you may be foolishly overestimating my abilities."
"It's just one button- well, actually, you need to hit 'time cook' first, but still."
"I am going to set the kitchen ablaze." Ciel jested, only to laugh when his spouse playfully shoved against his chest.
"God, you're so dramatic..." laughed the menace while shaking his head. Without another word about it, he pulled the other man into a hug and squeezed him tightly before closing his eyes and letting out another sigh through his nose. Arching an eyebrow, Ciel held him back despite not knowing what provoked the gesture.
"Do you need more compression?"
"Nah. I'm just having a pretty good day, is all. I'm expressing my feelings."
"That's good. That's good… I suppose I had better work hard on that popcorn so that it stays consistently good."
"It's still just a button..."
"You overestimate my abilities, yet underestimate my talent for being talentless in any domestic capacity."
Eventually, the pair managed to separate long enough to get in the car and drive off. It was never a short drive home from headquarters, but the duo didn't particularly mind. It gave then a chance to talk about whatever came to mind. The general consensus, however, was "anything but work" as they were still sick of missions after the several month long Philosophers incident. It had been more than a month since then, but it was still a point of contention, as both of them wanted to return to the "ordinary" part of their lives for a while without interruption.
They talked about how their friends and family were doing, as well as their business that wasn't of a combative nature. Ciel talked about the latest gossip about the businessmen that he couldn't stand and Jim talked about the latest advancements made in his jurisdiction. Gehenna was still thriving and the change of power amoung Girasol was now stable. Baldassare would still be missed and honoured, but Kyung-Soon was shaping up to be a proficient leader. More interestingly, however, was talk about the potential for jobs at HELLSING for supernaturals, which was both exciting for some and concerning for others. It wasn't as big of a conversation as the newspapers made it out to be, but when they ran out of post-Philosopher coverage, they needed something new to talk about, although many were still excited about the continuing legend of Jim Phantomhive.
After what seemed like an inappropriate amount of time, the black Mercedes Benz made it down the small, private road that lead to their driveway. All of the surrounding land was actually owned by the Phantomhives, but some of it was rented in exchange for a fee. Ciel politely waved to their neighbors as they drove by when they saw them out. There was a woman who raised horses who lived at a comfortable distance from their own home, who Ciel was one day determined to take his husband to so that he could properly learn horseback riding. Another day, perhaps. For that day, they simply returned home. They passed through the front gates and up the drive before pulling up in front of the house. Jim switched off the engine and they got out, stretching their legs as it felt like they had been stuck in that car for ages.
Sebastian greeted them at the front door as always, opening it for him and leading them in. Jim sometimes joked that Sebastian ran to the door to greet them if he sensed them approaching from somewhere within the house, and much to Ciel's discomfort, he sort of wondered if the menace may be right.
"Good afternoon, sirs." Sebastian greeted with a slight bow of his head. "Welcome back."
"Thanks, Bass-man." Jim replied as he removed his coat. His husband passed his own off to the butler while he did, prompting the oldest of the demons to put it away.
"Your mail is waiting for you in the office." spoke the man clad in black. "It was most peculiar… I anticipated and dealt with the usual bills, but this time, something different came in today."
"You aren't going to tell us for dramatic effect, are you?" questioned the bluenette, only to receive a smile.
"But of course. If I told you outright, then where would the fun be?" The question made Sebastian's master roll his visible eye. With that, the baronet turned to his spouse.
"I'll get the mail from the office. You go ahead and get settled in."
"Alright~! Don't forget to get the popcorn, okay?" the menace replied while making his way toward the stairs.
"On it." Ciel agreed, but once the blonde's back was turned, he looked to the butler and silently mouthed. "I need you to get popcorn."
"Yes, my lord." the butler answered, matching his master's silence, as he immediately recognised the danger of leaving Ciel alone in the kitchen.
The Phantomhive followed his spouse up the stairs and stopped at the office. When he opened the door and looked around, nothing seemed out of place. As he approached the large desk that they shared, however, he spotted an envelope at each of their stations. Not wanting to be nosy about his spouse, and assuming that both were identical, given the shape and colour of the envelopes, he picked up the one at his own desk and examined it. Immediately, his brows raised as he eyed the wax seal on the cover. It was a family crest, but not just any family crest. It was the seal of the royal family.
He had gotten many letters from her majesty in his time, but it had been a long while since the last one. Part of him was excited, but part of him dreaded what was inside, as he anticipated some horrific international incident that he needed to attend to or being scolded for something that happened with the Philosophers. He couldn't think of any real reason for the latter, but the timing was a bit odd. Still, if it was a letter from the Queen, it was a letter of great urgency, so even if he didn't want to open it, he needed to with haste.
Opening it, he read it carefully. His eye scanned it in silence, anticipating the worst, his eyebrows furrowing, and then raising again. The dread that had built in his stomach was gone and replaced with excitement, forcing him to smile. The bluenette stood up a bit straighter and was eager to turn around and tell his husband the great news, but as he did, he saw the matching letter on Jim's desk. The excitement he felt for himself vanished in an instant as his eyes widened. An even greater urgency filled him, and he quickly grabbed his spouse's letter.
"Jim!" he called out, despite his husband being nowhere near him. "Jim, Jim, Jim- Ow!" In his frantic move to leave the room, he whacked his shin on a coffeetable. "Ow, ow… Jim!"
He ran down the hallway, forgetting about his plan to wait on Sebastian to bring him popcorn for him to take to his husband. His feet thudded heavily against the floor, confusing the menace as he became strangely alerted to the bluenette's approach. The blonde actually stood up from his original seat on one of the sofas in the front room of the master suite as he watched the door. It very quickly swung open with great force, causing the wall to shake, but from the other side of the doorway came the Watchdog barreling into the room.
"What's going on?" Jim questioned, his tone worried.
"Jim! The mail! It's from the queen!" urgently declared the bluenette as he approached, but his demeanor only startled the other man more.
"What?! What happened!? What's going on?"
"Wait, wait, wait..." Ciel suddenly insisted, holding up a hand. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain his composure. It left his spouse in suspense, but it was necessary if he was going to explain things properly. "Let me start over: It's nothing life-threatening."
"Ciel! Fuck's sake..." the menace groaned, letting out a breath and slouching his shoulders. "You tryin' to scare the shit outta me?"
"No. I'm sorry. It's just exciting." the bluenette said. "I already read mine, and it's… I don't know how to say it right, so… just read it."
He handed the menace his already opened letter and with blatant skepticism, Jim took it before reading. He read, and read, and read, before his expression began to change. While he was a bit annoyed with his husband making a bit deal out of things, he finally understood why.
"You're an Earl?!" Jim gawked, looking up at his spouse as Ciel put his hands on his hips with a rather smug expression.
"That's right." Ciel said. "In six weeks, you will be lord-consort to the newly re-instated Earl Ciel Phantomhive." he proudly declared. "The progress I've made has redeemed me, it says, though I'm not sure if I can say that it's purely my doin-Oof!"
The bluenette found himself tackled rather violently as the menace put his arms around him, giggling up a storm. True, while Jim was not fond of most nobles and found them to be a bit of a waste of space, there were a few nobles that he really liked. Chiefly amoung them was his husband, but that was not all.
"I'm so happy for you!" the blonde grinned, nuzzling his spouse before pulling away again to look at him. "Your family legacy! Isn't it great? It's back together again!"
"I thought you didn't understand this sort of thing?"
"I don't! But it's important to you! So I'm happy! I might not be a blue-blood, but I'm still a proud Phantomhive and your husband, so of course I'd be happy about that!" declared the menace, pulling away a little more. "We should get some flowers for your parents, too! How do you say 'ya boy is an Earl again' in the language of flowers?"
Ciel let out a hearty laugh. It came from deep within his chest and was completely genuine in his joyfulness. He was glad to be an Earl, but he was also glad that his husband was glad, too. Not only that, but he was also always thrilled to hear Jim talk about himself as a perminant member of the Phantomhive family, and a proud one at that.
"It's exciting, but not the reason why I was in such a hurry." he said, capturing the Lion's attention again and setting him on a different track. His statement confused Jim, as the menace couldn't fathom what could be more important than the fact that Ciel was now once again a member of the Peerage and had been raised in rank by three entire ranks, but he would find out very quickly, as Ciel held up the unopened envelope still in his hand.
"You got a letter, too." he continued as his spouse cautiously took it. "I didn't open it, so I don't know what exactly it says, but I'm sure it must be something good. After all, you defeated an ancient evil that threatened to usurp the throne. If that isn't worth at least a medal of some sort, then I don't know what is."
"I guess." the menace lightly chuckled as he pried the wax seal off of the envelope. He handed the container to Ciel after pulling out the letter in question and slowly read it. It was exciting, but terrifying at the same time. His husband nervously awaited the verdict, growing ever more anxious as he watched how Jim's face shifted throughout reading. After an excruciatingly long time, the Watchdog found that he could bear it no longer.
"Well?" he asked. "What does it say?"
Jim started from the beginning again, although this time, he read much faster. There was one paragraph that he lingered on, reading it two more times before his facial features finally relaxed into an expression of pure shock as he accepted that what he was reading was indeed what it said and finally lowered the letter.
"I'm a baronet." he breathlessly stated. The blonde's words were so quiet that they could be hardly heard by regular human ears, but his husband heard them. His husband heard him loud and clear. There was only a single beat before Jim let out a sound of surprise as he was hugged tightly and hoisted into the air.
"A baronet!" Ciel shouted, causing the other man to giggle by spinning him around. Jim's laughter, however, was nothing in comparison to his husband's, as the Watchdog shouted to the heavens while laughing like a complete and utter madman. "A baronet! Good, God! You're a baronet!"
Before too terribly long, the Lion's feet finally touched the ground as his husband was finally done rendering him dizzy for the time being. It wasn't over, however, as he quickly found his cheeks being peppered with kisses, causing him to laugh harder.
"You're more excited about this than being an Earl?" questioned the menace, but his inquiry was only met with an incredulous response.
"Of course I am!" Ciel pulled away from the menace long enough to declare. "You're not just a knight! You're a baronet! People don't just become baronets every day! It's a title you can pass on to your children! That's incredibly exciting! God, Jim… You really- You really did that. All on your own! I'm just- I'm just so proud and so happy for you!"
Leaning back in closer, he began kissing his husband's cheeks again before sighing: "I love you, so much..."
"I'm really not that great..." Jim replied, only to have the other man pull away and look at him more determined than ever.
"Like bloody hell, you aren't!" the bluenette answered back. It was like a fire had been lit in his chest and it looked like there was no hope of it being put out any time soon. "You're incredible! You're Sir Jim Phantomhive the Lion! You-! You're just-! Ugh!"
It was hard for Jim not to grin when Ciel was this excited. He was a very passionate man and it was always immensely fun to see him become overwhelmed by his own nature. The poor man needed to take a moment to cover his eye and take a deep breath in order to calm down. His face was flushed, his heart was racing, and he simply didn't know what to do with himself. Lowering his hand, Ciel finally looked at his husband again with a bit of an apologetic expression.
"I'm sorry, I know this isn't the sort of thing you like to make a big deal about..." he finally said, but it only made the other man laugh.
"It's alright. I know this is exactly the sort of thing that you do like to make a big deal about!" Jim replied, prompting the other to groan.
"It's not just the title thing, though… I… I'm really happy that… I'm happy that other people see you like how I see you. You've worked really hard- maybe not for this, but because you do what you think is right. Title or no, you are more noble than any noble out there and… I want everyone to know that."
"Well, being acknowledged by the Queen is pretty good, isn't it?" suggested the menace, only for the other to gain an uncharacteristically goofy expression.
"I know, isn't it?" Ciel immediately asked. It made Jim laugh, but what made him smile a bit more sentimentally, was how sincere the bluenette was as he leaned in closer for a kiss on the lips. "I love you. You're a great man."
Jim didn't feel great, though. He felt "ordinary" at best, but everyone else seemed to disagree with him. Even when he felt his worst, people disagreed with that take, too. Everyone around him felt as though he was great and at first, it felt like he was lying to them, but lately, he wondered if his peers had a bit of a point.
"I love you, too..." the lion answered, allowing Ciel to place a kiss against his lips before kissing him back. He didn't feel great about the person he was, but in that moment, he felt that maybe- just maybe- he was right where he needed to be. He wasn't just allowed to be there, it was where he belonged. He belonged as a Phantomhive, he belonged as Ciel's husband, and he belonged in his place at HELLSING and Gehenna. Ciel's kiss and the warmth of his arms around him were reassuring. His comfort reached its peak as his hand reached up and held onto the back of Ciel's head, keeping him there as the Watchdog's prior enthusiasm began to take a different form.
"Mmm..." hummed the bluenette before he realised it, but once he did, he gently pushed against his beau, signaling for them to separate. He was thankful that his embarrassment wasn't furthered when they did, however, as he found that he wasn't the only one panting. "I- uh… As much as I want to keep this going, Sebastian should be coming up here with popcorn in a bit..."
"Didn't I tell you to get it?" questioned the menace, arching an eyebrow.
"Yeah… Well… It- uh… It seemed like a good idea at the time..."
"Aren't you the one who asked for this Netflix and Chill session?"
"Well, uh… Actually, I was hoping to spend some time with you, is all..." somewhat bashfully explained the bluenette. "But I'm not complaining, or anything! I just… Uh… I like hanging out with you, obviously..."
"True. We're besties, aren't we?"
"We're married."
"You're my special friend."
"We are in a romantically committed relationship."
"Super special bestest friends."
"Are you trying to hurt my feelings?" the Watchdog questioned, prompting the other to finally break character and laugh.
"Nah, messing with you is just fun. You're so cute that it's hard not to tease you. It's kind of painful to joke like that, though. Marrying you is still the best thing to ever happen to me. Being knighted is cool and all, but I doubt it's gonna top our wedding on that scale."
"That's right!" the bluenette suddenly said as realisation crossed his features. He grabbed hold of his husband's biceps and spoke to him with a returned sense of focus. "We have to tell everyone about this!"
"About our titles?" Jim asked, resting his hands on his beau's chest. He couldn't help but be incredibly amused by how quickly and intensely Ciel was changing gears, but he also couldn't help but smile at how the Watchdog's eye seemed to sparkle when talking about the menace.
"Yes! But mostly yours. Being an Earl isn't as exciting."
"I was just gonna tell them whenever I talk to them next. Do we really need to go through and call everybody?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To brag." Ciel spoke without a single trace of sarcasm or humour. He was completely and utterly serious. "I need to brag about your accomplishments."
"Jesus Christ, Ciel..." the blonde laughed, lowering his head a bit.
"It's not one of my 'weird, noble, things,' either." his husband insisted. "I'm proud of you and need everyone to know how great you are as soon as possible." As he remembered something else, the bluenette's head quickly whipped around to look over his shoulder at the door. "We could tell Sebastian, Luka, and Revy right now!"
"You're going to make a huge deal out of this, aren't you?"
"It is a huge deal! I'm reacting perfectly appropriately for the situation! We should definitely celebrate! If there's ever a reason for a party, this is it!"
"Wow, you have officially lost your mind. Look at you, huh?" Reaching up, the menace cupped the other man's cheeks, noting how hot Ciel's face was. "We can talk about all~ of that later, alright? Right now, I kind of want to celebrate with that movie? Y'know… Just the two of us?"
"Al-alright…" Ciel's face grew hotter as he looked down. He was a bit embarrassed, given how silly he was acting. It was a bit disappointing to him, being shut down when he's this enthusiastic about something, but it was ultimately Jim's business and he was the most important person in all of this to Ciel. "Sorry..."
"Oh! It's okay! I'm really happy that you're so into it! I'm just-" The blonde let out a breath. "I'm just… I'm really happy about it- really, I am- I just never thought I'd ever achieve something like this fairly, is all… Well, that and… You know how I feel about nobles, so it's kind of weird to be in the same category, I guess? It's not that I don't want to accept it, it's just that… Who will I be when I do?"
"Oh, Jim..." Leaning forward, the other man affectionately pressed his forehead against Jim's. He made his voice softer and more quiet as he addressed the blond now, having the social calibration to realise when he had made an error. "I'm sorry… I got so caught up in it that I wasn't thinking… That makes a lot of sense. It's a change that… sort of challenges your identity, doesn't it?"
"Kind of… I don't want to stay the same person I am, title or none, because I'm still trying to be better. I also don't want to become someone who is so high up that I forget what got me there, though. I don't want to be a baronet if that means that I need to act like one."
"You don't. Truly, I don't want or expect you to. I don't want you to become someone you're not, nor do I want you to feel like you are."
"Can I still be 'Sir Jim Phantomhive' while being just plain 'Jim?'"
"Of course you can… That's the whole reason you've received the title. Because you're Jim- the pugnacious, tenacious, strong, but sensitive, empathetic, possibly-Irish, former slave, who has a bone to pick with the bullshit of authority figures, and has little regard for posh customs. You're that 'Jim.' Given your feelings on poncy twits, I highly doubt that you will become one as soon as people start calling you 'sir.' If anything, I fully expect you to call about five people out at the ceremony and destroy them for their posh nonsense. That is simply the kind of man that you are and I find it absolutely delightful."
"I'm not going to turn into some snooty fuckhead, am I? Like, I'm not going to start acting posh because I'm expected to be, right?"
"Who is expecting you to be? I'm not. I fully intend to do the exact same thing I do every day right now when I'm an Earl, so I assume you'll do the same. If you want to learn how to be posh, you may, but I won't be giving you any lessons any time soon."
"Okay..." Jim finally said, nodding with his forehead rubbing against Ciel's. "That makes me feel better."
"We can hold off on telling everyone for now." Ciel informed. "We will need to discuss arrangements, however, because I need to have an appropriate outfit made."
"What about me? Do I need a special outfit?"
"Not unless you want one."
"I wanna show up in Elton John cosplay and smack a viscount with a feather boa."
"Jim, my darling love, I am fully supportive of you and your dreams."
A/N: Hello, everyone~! Welcome to the second-to-last chapter~! Don't worry, the stuff that we didn't get to will be gotten to in the next thing. Don't worry about it. But also give me your feedback, so I know about some of the less-obvious stuff or just the stuff I've flat-out forgotten!
Spring Break is almost over... This is a very long chapter, which is why it took me the whole time...
A lot happened. Most tragically, that really happened to Audrey's hair... RIP in piece, purple skull beanie... Don't worry, he won't stay with that haircut forever lmao.
Dan is making progress with Ted and SEVERAL people are making career moves. Nice, nice, nice... Claire will continue to suffer the awkward torment of having the guy whose arm she cut off be her commanding officer. It's more awkward for her, though. More funny for Oliver. Speaking of werewolves and HELLSING, though, I LOVE the idea of Amelie in charge? That was a good idea, me, way to go!
Philip and Farroel are chilling and Evangeline and Sasha are having problems. More on them in a future thing. Not next time, but in the next... What are we calling this? "Book?" "Book" seems kind of self-important, I think... "Fic" In the next fic, that will be a thing. Got it.
So will Johnathan. I like the idea of him becoming a reoccurring villain. The fact that he's currently piloting a Ciel clone is pretty gross, though. That really grosses me out for some reason. Get the fuck out of here, Johnny, ya fucking creep. (I'm sorry if your name is "Johnny." You can stay.)
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
