**Author's Note:: Hello! I'm back again because I'm procrastinating on my homework! :D Yay! Anyway! This is a pretty dramatic scene that I actually worked pretty hard on. (I work way harder on these fics than I do my homework xD )... So please let me know what you think!
Thank you to everyone! So much! I really appreciate all the follows and favourites and reviews! I'm so glad that you all are enjoying this story as much as I am! :) I really freaking love you all! :D Thanks again! ^ Peace! **
...
Haven awoke but didn't yet open her eyes.
She could feel that the temperature in the room was colder than usual, and that a dull ache pounded throughout her body.
Had her fever returned again?
As Haven continued to lay on her cot, which had been lowered from where it had previously rested atop a coffin, she felt a cool cloth being pressed against her forehead.
Maybe it was Undertaker, but her mind couldn't seem to clear up enough for her to think reasonably.
It felt as if a thick fog surrounded her thoughts, and Haven squeezed her eyes together tighter.
"Cold, are ya, now?" Undertaker's voice broke through the room.
Haven finally opened her eyes and saw her counterpart leaning above her as he sat on the chilly ground. His hat had been removed from his head, although his hair still hung about his eyes in a mysterious manner. His black cloak had been parted to reveal a white shirt and brown vest, and Haven realised that this was the first time she'd been able to see his attire.
"Undertaker?" Haven chattered, feeling her teeth clack together because of the coldness of the room. "It's- so- cold-"
"Sh, now," Undertaker hushed her, reaching down and patting the damp cloth against her forehead. His long black nails gently brushed across her skin, leaving behind a slightly tingly sensation. "Yer burnin' with fever again, ya are," he added, quietly. "Jus' go back to sleep, dearie."
"No," Haven insisted, sitting up quickly. The blood all rushed into her head and made her dizzy, black spots appearing before her vision. She put a cold hand against her temple, but confidently looked back up to Undertaker. "Tell me what's going on. I think you know more than you're telling me."
Undertaker practically flinched at her accusatory tone, but then his grin broke across his face like usual.
"Ya know, love, you're much tougher than ya seem," he replied instead, cocking his head at her in curiosity. "I'd supposed to meself that humans were weak, but ya've proven me quite wrong in that, ya have."
"Why do you keep calling everyone humans?" Haven demanded, her energy quickly draining. She knew she had to get information out of Undertaker quickly before she passed out. "We're all human, aren't we?"
Undertaker suddenly laughed loudly at that, bending forward with his hands on his stomach as if he'd gotten a cramp.
"I suppose," he replied, his voice light from breathlessness.
Haven huffed a sigh at his vague response. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.
If Undertaker wasn't going to cooperate with her, then she was going to force the answers from him.
Although she was weak with fever, Haven quickly reached over and pushed the hair from his face as he laughed, her fingers brushing his cheeks lightly.
Undertaker abruptly stopped laughing, and quickly grabbed her wrists to stop her, his mouth opening in what appeared to be panic as he realised that he was too late.
Haven felt his soft hair against her palms, and stared into the eyes of Undertaker for the first time.
His eyes were open wide as if he was shocked that Haven would do something so brash, but Haven just continued to sit there as she was.
She stared into the two-toned irises, feeling something like relief that he wasn't disfigured as she'd originally thought. But another emotion crept it's way into her stomach.
Her fingers could still feel the silkiness of his hair, and his fingers gently gripped her wrists, so she took a deep breath.
His eyes... were so...
They were yellow and green, almost smouldering with emotions that Haven had never seen on his face before.
Why...?
"You've got lovely eyes, Undertaker," she found herself saying, her voice sounding a bit distant, probably from her fever. "I don't know why you hide them..."
Suddenly, the black spots before her vision spread until she went blind.
Haven felt her head become airy and light, and knew she was falling backwards.
There was an arm supporting her back, and then nothing but blackness.
Haven passed out again.
...
Something equivalent to fear was pulsing through Haven's body, as engulfing blackness swirled inside her head.
There was a voice, a whispery voice that barely reached her ears before the wind whipped it away from her. The voice sounded familiar to her somehow...
"I'd like to court you, if you don't mind-"
It was the voice of a man.
Haven's blood pounded against her eardrums, loudly enough that at first she thought it was the sound of the wheels of the Phantomhive carriage, clacking as they manoeuvred over bumpy rocks.
"I'm sorry... I've already been promised to a man from another family," came another voice. This time it was a girl.
She sounded afraid. Her voice was wavering as she spoke.
Haven felt as if she should try to do something to help, but she also knew somehow that the situation was out of her hands.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed, and Haven was left reeling.
Her mind tried to understand what was going on, but she was fevered and ill, and inside her head was still only darkness.
The fear became stronger. Something was happening.
"Please- stop following me- leave me alone!"
Whose voice was that?
Haven needed to help! She was here, she was able to do something-!
"Stop!" Haven gasped. She suddenly felt fingers gripping her shoulders, forcing her down. She struggled against the hands, forcing her body up. "No-!"
"Haven!" a voice called, sounding worried. "Lie still, dearie! It's jus' me, it is!"
Haven's eyes suddenly snapped open, and she was looking up into the face of Undertaker.
His long slender fingers were gripping her shoulders gently, and he was breathing deeply as if he'd been wrestling her down.
"Wha... What happened?" Haven gasped, sitting up straighter on her cot once Undertaker loosened his grip on her.
He took a deep breath, so Haven searched his face. His expression held no trace of his usual grin.
He... He actually looked rather worried.
"You were in a fevered sleep," Undertaker replied. "Then ya suddenly started thrashin' 'round, ya did, yellin' strange things."
"Strange things?" Haven repeated, confused. She gulped loudly, chewing on her bottom lip. What had she been dreaming about? She couldn't quite remember... Whatever it was, it must've frightened her severely. "What did I say?"
Undertaker hesitated, then reached back over and pushed gently on her shoulders again.
"Never the matter, love, it'd be best for ya to simply go back to sleep," he replied.
Again with the evasiveness. Haven set her jaw and pushed back against Undertaker's hands as he tried to make her lie back against the cot.
"No," she stated firmly. "I want to know what's going on. You know more than you're telling me, Undertaker, and I want you to stop being so evasive about it. Please."
Haven looked seriously at him, the drafty room suddenly feeling much colder than usual.
Undertaker hesitated, his lips slightly parted as if he was on the edge of spilling all of his secrets. But then he leaned back away from her and wrapped his fingers lightly around his chin in thought.
"I've already told ya all I know, I have," he replied, after a long pause. He cocked his head, making his silver braid fall against his face. "There's nothin' more to say, dearie."
Haven swallowed against the exasperation in her throat and sighed deeply.
"I think I remembered something in my dream," she stated, removing her gaze from his hesitant face. "I can't remember exactly what it was... But I'm getting closer to figuring this all out."
"Ya don't need to be forcin' yer memories to return, now-" Undertaker started hurriedly, but Haven cut him off, almost angrily.
"I need to get my memories back, as soon as possible," she replied, keeping her expression firm. "If you won't tell me what's going on, then I have no choice but to search for my answers elsewhere."
Her words had come so suddenly that she hadn't yet become fully aware of them until after they left her lips.
As she heard herself speak, she realised that she was threatening to leave Undertaker.
It was ridiculous-! This building was all that Haven knew! It was the only place she could remember-!
But at the same time, Undertaker had made it plain that he didn't wish to tell her his secrets, even though she desperately wanted to know them.
She desperately needed to know them.
What else could she do?
As she clamped her mouth shut, she looked over at Undertaker, whose lips were parted in shock.
He cocked his head curiously for a moment.
"If... If that's what ya think needs to be done, I've never discouraged a soul from listenin' to its mind," he replied, almost softly.
Haven didn't know what to say.
Why had he said it in that way?
It almost felt as if he was trying to tell her something by the way he structured his sentences, but Haven didn't have time to figure it out.
She pushed herself up off the cot with weak arms and marched into the main room, which was darker than usual because of the storm raging on the outside.
Haven didn't quite know what she was doing, but she found herself making her way towards the front entrance.
She would go to the park, and then the alley, and maybe even to the Phantomhive estate so she could talk to Sebastian. It seemed the Phantomhive butler may have been keeping secrets of his own as well.
As Haven reached the door and wrapped her cold fingers around the doorknob, she suddenly felt a hand on her arm.
"Wait, now!" Undertaker's voice called, so Haven turned back in his direction impatiently, shaking off his hand.
"Yes?" Haven asked.
"Haven, dearie, ya must be on a search for Death himself to be leavin' in this weather!" Undertaker exclaimed, motioning out the windows to the storm with his pale hand. "Come back into the room with me and rest, love."
"I... I just want my memories back now!" Haven cried, crossing her arms against the chill. For some reason, she felt a pressure to hurry and catch the murderer. And she knew deep inside herself that they wouldn't be able to catch him without her memories. "It's important that I get them back!" Haven added.
"I know, love," Undertaker's voice sounded pained. He reached out a hand toward her, his dark nails inches from her arm. "I know ya want to find him. But- ya'll take on a relapse forcin' yourself like this. Yer burnin' with fever, ya can't be traipsin' about in a storm."
"I'll do whatever it takes to get my memories back," Haven stated firmly. "I'll walk around all night in a storm if I have to."
"Ya can't be wanderin' 'round by yourself with a murderer in London!" Undertaker added, his voice a bit more strained than usual.
"I'd rather die than live in this mystery for another day!" Haven insisted, setting her chin bravely. "And even if I die, it'll only be more work for you anyway. It's not as if anyone's been looking for me. I don't belong to anyone."
"Don't say that, lady, surely someone out there's been lookin' for ya," Undertaker replied, his hand still hesitating in the air uncertainly.
"No," Haven said, looking back out the window toward the storm that was raging outside. The windows were slightly fogged from the humidity. "I have the feeling no one's looking for me. I've learned from all this that I'd rather die fighting than to continue living in shadows. Maybe if my life ends trying to figure out who I am, I'll end up back here in one of your coffins. Wouldn't that be ironic? Just promise me that you'll bury me somewhere close by so you can visit me every so often."
"Haven, love-!" Undertaker practically choked. He seemed as if he were about to say something else, but Haven wasn't sure what. She trailed her gaze back over to his face, but his yellow-green eyes were hidden like usual, masking any emotions he might be feeling.
"Hm?" Haven mumbled, watching as Undertaker grasped her wrist in his long fingers. He didn't make another move for a long time, and the pair froze like that, unsure of what the other would do.
"I... I don't rightly understand," Undertaker muttered to himself. "In all the years I've existed, there's never been a soul I wanted to see continue as badly as I want to see yours, love."
"A... soul? Continue?" Haven whispered, confused.
"I can say for the first time that I don't want ya to end up here in me shop," Undertaker continued, softly, his head still cocked to the side. "I don't want to fit ya for a coffin. I don't want to bury ya, and I don't want your soul to end. I want ya to live."
He stopped talking abruptly.
Raising his free hand, he scratched his head in confusion, his lips pursed thoughtfully.
Haven wasn't sure how to respond or what to do.
She still needed answers, no matter how much Undertaker tried to distract her.
"I..." Haven decided at the last moment not to comment, and instead spoke about something else. "I still need to search for my memories."
Her tone was almost finalising, and Undertaker's grip on her wrist tightened a bit.
He suddenly drew her against him and set his jaw. Haven looked up at him, surprised, watching as he lightly shook his head.
"Don't go, lady," he said, quietly.
"I have to!" Haven gasped, for some reason her breath leaving her chest. His body radiated a warmth that calmed her, but she couldn't lose track of her purpose. "If I stay, you won't tell me anything and I'll never get my-"
She was cut off as Undertaker's lips sealed over hers suddenly, and her words died on her tongue.
Her eyes widened as she realised what was happening. Undertaker's warm lips pressed against hers forcefully, but his fingers left her wrist to cup her cheek gently.
She felt his tongue running over her bottom lip, and she found herself bringing her own up to meet his. Possibly burning with fever, Haven noticed that the air felt unusually cold as their tongues swirled together in what seemed like a dance or farewell.
It felt like an eternity and a half when Undertaker suddenly pulled away, as if his actions had just registered in his mind.
He roughly turned his head away and set his jaw, his breaths only a bit laboured even though they'd been without air for quite a while.
Haven was gasping for breath, her cheek still gently cupped in Undertaker's hand.
It had been a confusing kiss, and Haven was still confused as Undertaker let go of her completely and turned away. His back was to her, and Haven wondered if he regretted kissing her.
It was silent for a long moment.
"Go, then, if that's what ya've decided," he muttered almost inaudibly.
Haven was torn.
She wasn't sure if she wanted to leave anymore... But what if this had been Undertaker's plan? He had a bad habit of distracting her to make her stop talking or change her mind... What if he'd only kissed her so she'd want to stay?
Haven didn't know what to do.
But she did know one thing for certain: she needed to regain her memories. The only way she could do that was to leave and search for herself.
Something felt like it was cracking in two inside Haven's chest. She reached back around and put her hand on the doorknob.
"I- I need to find my memories," Haven whispered, feeling sobs start to close off her throat. "I'm... Im sorry! I'll... I'll come back and find you!"
"Hm," Undertaker breathed something like a humourless chuckle. His back was still turned to her so she couldn't see his face. "Once ya've regained your memories, ya won't want to, love."
"That's not true," Haven insisted, turning the doorknob but leaving the door shut for a moment longer. "I'll come back. I promise!"
She paused for another second, closing her eyes and pretending that everything was the same as usual. Was this the best decision?
Suddenly, Haven yanked open the door and the storm blew rain in onto her feet.
"Take the umbrella," Undertaker said, barely audible over the noises of the rain. "Ya'll catch cold goin' without one."
"Thank you," Haven choked, her chest burning more painfully with every step. She grasped the umbrella with one hand and readied herself to go out into the storm.
"And," Undertaker added, his voice more lacklustre than Haven had ever heard it. "If ever ya find yourself in need of me services, don't hesitate to stop by. Even if your memories've been fully repaired and ya want nothin' to do with me, I'll still assist ya, because ya've been a safe place for me, ya have. Ya've been a haven, most literally."
"I... I don't understand," Haven stuttered, caught off guard by Undertaker's sullen mood.
He didn't answer her, and only continued to stand there, head cocked at at angle with his back turned toward her mysteriously.
She waited for a response, but upon getting none, she finally turned and fled out the door, her umbrella expanding above her head to shield her from the rain like her own personal haven.