A/N: Welp, here's another one.

XxxxxxX

I am not entirely sure how long it was before I regained awareness, but I do not believe it had been very long. Naturally, I had no way of knowing then that there would be plenty of times where I would wish I never had.

The first thing I had become aware of were voices. It took some effort in order to make out what they were saying. They sounded like they were being muffled by something.

"...place is completely destroyed!"

"About time, I say...damned family...always been cursed..."

"...-nd anymore bodies?"

"Not ye- hey! I th-...'ere's one!"

I found the topic of their conversation to be quite unsettling. Destroyed? Bodies? Cursed? It took all of my strength, but I finally managed to regain my sight. Oh, if I had the strength, I would have screamed. The manor had burned to the ground. All around me was burnt wood and ash. My master's beautiful manor had been reduced to rubble.

I turned back to the intruders. I saw now that it was a gang of ten men, dressed for work. They were scattered all over the grounds, digging through the manor's remains and occasionally voicing that they had found something salvageable.

"Excuse me, gentlemen?" I called out. I needed some answers. But nobody acknowledged me. How rude, I thought.

The two men next to me seemed to be trying to pull something out of a pile of wood. Curious, I watched them work. I wish that I had not, for what they pulled out was...me. If it wasn't for the fact that I had previously occupied the body, I would never have recognized it. It was burnt beyond almost all recognition. Remarkably, there were still charred bits and pieces of my suit clinging to it. Another indicator that it was indeed my corpse was the Phantomhive pin still attached to what was left of my shirt.

It was then that I finally realized that I was dead. I recall that I came to this realization calmly. I was a ghost, and yet I had no feelings on the matter. I vaguely wondered if I would ever feel anything again.

I followed them as they started to move my body. They carried it to the scorched front lawn and placed it under a white sheet. I observed that there were several other white sheets beside it. The other servants, I assumed. They were arranged by height so it wasn't too hard to tell who was who. Bardroy, myself, Tanaka, Mey-Rin, Finnian...

But where was the young master? Perhaps they just had not found him yet. I did not think it was possible for a body to be completely destroyed in a fire, no matter how small.

I waited and watched detachedly until the men left with the bodies. They never did find the young master's body. I wondered what could have happened to it.

After the workmen left, I felt feeling slowly return to me. Panic. Anguish. Devastation. And above all, loneliness.

XxxxxxX

The next day, another pair of men came to what was left of the manor. I recognized them as Sir Randall and Inspector Abberline from Scotland Yard. Randall's face was impassive, as always, but Abberline's face have a trace of melancholy to it. He had been fond of the young master. It must have been hard to hear of his death.

"Let's get this over with," Randall grumbled. "The yard wants a full report on what happened here."

"Yes, sir," Abberline mumbled. The man let his gaze sweep over the destruction before him.

"It shouldn't take too long. We already know there was a fire. We just have to piece together how it happened," Randall continued. "There was one witness, wasn't there?"

"Yes, sir. There was a man and his grandson traveling by the Phantomhive estate around the time the fire started. The grandson claimed to see a maid carrying a lit candle through a window. Apparently she tripped, and the next thing he saw was a tapestry on the wall catching fire. A few minutes after that, there was an explosion downstairs. We think it might have started in the kitchen. The chef did have a reputation of using too much, um, 'fire power' to cook."

"And everyone was inside the manor when it burned down?" Randall asked as he nudged a pile of soot with his shoe.

"Yes," Abberline answered. "What was left of the chef was found in the kitchen. The gardener was found in the front entrance. The maid, in the hallway. The steward, in the servant's quarters. And the butler, in the dining room. We think he may have fallen from upstairs when the floor collapsed."

"I wonder what happened to that little brat?" Randall sneered. I wanted to give the man a piece of my mind at that. How dare he insult my master? Thankfully, Abberline did it for me.

"Sir!" the inspector gasped. "You should not speak of the dead in that matter. He burned alive in his own home. How can you not pity him?"

Randall only huffed. "Well, the evidence checks out with the story. I suppose we can return to the Yard now."

"But don't you think we should search for the earl's body?" Abberline asked. "Surely he deserves a proper burial."

"If the workmen couldn't find it, what makes you think we can?" Randall scoffed. "Perhaps he just burned up. Who even cares? Come on, we're leaving."

Abberline looked like he wanted to say something, but merely sighed and followed his superior. He gave the manor one last look before muttering "Goodbye, Ciel."

I wanted to call them back. They could not just leave me here like this. But alas, they could not hear me, and I was alone again.

XxxxxxX

I must admit, in life I had never been a man of faith. The concept of God and angels and demons all seemed quite silly to me. It was also a trait me and my master had in common. But I now wondered if this was my punishment for my disbelief. Instead of the flames of Hell, I would have to spend eternity in the ruins of my master's home. Sometimes I wonder if Hell would have been better, for at least there, there are no memories.

I suppose that all spirits are weak at first, and I was no exception. I spent an entire fortnight simply floating around the grounds. (In those early years, it was still easy for me to keep track of how much time had passed.) I constantly tried in vain to grab hold of something. I always lamented when I couldn't. It was just further proof that I was no longer part of this world.

But I vowed to regain my ability to touch things again. How would I ever find my master's body otherwise? I constantly focused my energy on trying to move things again. It was really the only thing I could do.

One day, it occurred to me that an entire month had passed since I died. Four weeks to the day, to be precise. And that could only mean...it was my young master's birthday. The thought sent a flood of anguish through me. I should have spent the day preparing the manor for the guest Lady Elizabeth invited behind my master's back for a surprise party. I should have been in the kitchen baking an extravagant chocolate cake. I should have stood by his side while he tried to pretend he was not having a good time. But instead...instead...

I felt something wet on my face. I brushed my hand over my cheeks and then lifted it to my eyes. To my surprise, I saw that it was tears. I was...crying? I did not think that was possible anymore. This actually made me feel hope. If I could do something as simple as shedding tears as a spirit, what else could I learn to do in time?

But those thoughts left my head as I remembered why I was crying in the first place. My home was destroyed, my poor young master was dead, and I was a trapped spirit. My emotion seemed to overcome me, and I knew nothing more for a long while.

XxxxxxX

When I finally regained my senses, it certainly was not winter anymore. The trees had regrown their leaves and the garden was in bloom. I frowned as I saw the weeds beginning to take root in it.

With renewed vigor, I began to practice moving things again. After a few days, I was able to lift a charred brick for a few seconds. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I must have finally begun to get stronger.

In a matter of weeks, I was able to move most things with relative ease. I had become to organize the rubble out of sheer boredom. One pile was wood, one was ash, one was brick, one was appliances and fabrics that had not been completely ruined, and the last was whatever else I found.

With this new strength in hand, I decided it was time I sought out my young master's body. I refused to believe that it could be completely gone. Surely there must be something of him left!

Some of the wing that held my master's bedroom and office was still intact, so I started my search there. Before, I did not have the strength to do a thorough investigation, but I had it now. I climbed the fragile stairs without fear. I did not weigh anything, and it wasn't as if I could die again.

I flinched when I entered the room for the first time since the fire. Everything was in ruin. The carpet and wallpaper had been completely destroyed. The bed frame was a mere skeleton compared to how it was before. I combed through what remained of there, the dressing room, and the bathroom, but came up with nothing. There was only one place left to look.

I walked over to the wall adjacent the bed and searched for a certain spot. Once I found it, I knocked on it three times. As expected, the hidden door there sprung open and I looked inside. I couldn't help but cry out, for inside were indeed the remains of my master. He had been reduced to a skeleton at that point, and bits and pieces of his clothing remained. I let out a sob at the sight. He was just a child...

Carefully, I picked up the skeleton and laid it out on the floor. I then tried to piece together what had happened. Had he simply become stuck in there? No, there were several ways for him to escape that compartment. He must have tried to hide from the fire in there. I supposed that the smoke must have come through and suffocated him.

I sighed and patted the skull fondly. My poor young master died all alone, probably scared out of his wits and wishing for my protection. If only I had a way to make it up to him...

I sat there with him for a long while. It was horribly indecent but I laid the corpse across my lap and stroked his head and arms and chest. I suppose my loneliness drove me to where I did not care about boundaries. I craved physical contact of any sort desperately. Besides, it wasn't as if he could tell me to let go of him.

I decided to build him a coffin out of the salvageable wood I collected. It was fitting that my skeletal master should have a bed made of his home, I thought. It did not take me long to make. Ironically, at least to me, several pieces of wood were just the right size and shape to make the coffin. I even found some decent silk and velvet to line it with.

I laid him in the coffin with a bouquet of white roses that had been growing in the garden. I bowed to him one last time before I shut the lid. It occurred to me that I should bury it, but I could not bear the thought of parting with what was left of my young master. But it did not seem right to leave him in his ruined bedroom like this. I looked all around me and flexed my fingers.

Perhaps it was time to rebuild.

XxxxxxX

As time went on, it became more and more difficult to keep track of its passing. One moment it would be dawn, then in a blink of an eye it would be night. One moment it would be sunny, the next it would be raining. It would be spring, and then suddenly autumn. So really, I had no way of knowing how long it took me to rebuild the manor. I do know that it must have taken years. It would take an entire team of living men at least ten to build an estate like this. I guessed that it must have taken me three times as long. Then again, I was working on my project every second of every day.

I discovered that I had a wonderful ability to...fix things. It was quite remarkable, really. I could hold a blackened piece of wood or a faded piece of fabric and concentrate on it, and then it would simply become as good as new. I was happy to have this ability, for now I could make a grand manor house instead of a shabby one. Besides, what sort of Phantomhive butler would I be if I could not recreate my master's home down to the last detail.

I stared with the first floor, of course. The layout of the manor was imprinted in my mind, so I easily remembered where every last pebble went. Even the rooms of the other servants, which I never paid that much attention to. But I made sure they were exactly as they should be. As annoying as my fellow servants were, I felt that I should honor their memories. I did save the kitchen for last, though. It did nothing but bring back unpleasant memories.

I must admit that working on the upper floor did sadden me at times. There were only a few books left for the library, but it made me smile when I realized they were some of the master's favorites. I paid extra attention to my master's room, of course. He deserved nothing but the best.

I must admit that I talked to him as if he was still living, sometimes. Whether it was out of loneliness or growing insanity, I'm not sure. But it was comforting to have a one-sided conversation with him. I even liked to pretend that he was answering me back.

"Good morning, young master. How did you sleep?" I would ask as I put down new carpet.

"Well enough," I imagined him answering. "Now get back to work."

"Yes, my lord," I would answer, as always.

They often went like that. I (we) would talk about everything from the weather, to flowers, to the prices of various teas, to our families, to whatever else came to mind. It really didn't seem long at all before the manor was finished. It was almost as if the fire never happened.

I even made a little room for my master to rest in. I was lucky enough to find a portrait of him that was fixable. I proudly hung it on on the freshly papered wall. I filled the room with little things I found that reminded me of my master. They mostly consisted of papers and books. But I was lucky enough to find his favored chessboard and a few pairs of his clothes. And, of course, my master himself. I covered the coffin with a cloth in an attempt to keep it preserved.

I went outside and stared at the manor. I smiled a bit, for I was feeling something akin to happiness. I was still a ghost who was forever trapped on the grounds, but at least I had a home again.

XxxxxxxxX

A/N: Thanks to Raverlynn for betaing.

Please let me know that you think!