Sebastian couldn't decide on whether or not he was feeling embarrassed or just sick. At first he thought he was embarrassed, but then he vomited again and decided that he was just sick. And to commemorate his decision, he vomited again—right after Eleanora and the Undertaker had finished cleaning him up. Meanwhile, the young Master was helpfully standing in the farthest corner and shouting as loud as he could, "EW!"

In all honesty, he thought that Eleanora was being rather nice about the whole thing. She had assured the Undertaker that she could take care of him now, and he and the young Master had sat on the bed in the room and began talking to each other. Eleanora didn't complain, she didn't bring up their unusual marriage; when he vomited again, she cleaned it up quickly and easily, and when the Undertaker brought her something to eat, she shared it with Sebastian, and when he threw it up again half-an-hour later, she cleaned that up too.

"Th-Thank you…" he whispered when she was finished.

She shrugged.

"Eh, it's what I'm here for. You can't be a proper maid without cleaning up butler vomit at least once in your life."

He laughed weakly.

"That's…funny…"

"That's right; I'm hilarious; now rest and don't talk."

He began drifting off into feverish dreams and then waking up again, panting and sweating. Eleanora hadn't fallen asleep, so whenever he woke up, she was always there, ready to put another hot cloth on his forehead or wrap another blanket around him or just smile.

One time he woke up and saw her tending the fire. Maybe it was the fever or just the general illness or her being so nice to him, but he thought that she was rather pretty. Her black hair slightly curled at the tips and she had such long eyelashes…He felt something stirring in his chest…Something warm and slightly painful…He wondered what new feeling it was and then he threw up again.

"S-Sorry…" he said when Eleanora cleaned everything up again. "I'm s-so s-sorry…"

"Don't worry about it."

Ciel and the Undertaker were sitting on the bed, discussing things.

"Why is he so cold?" Ciel asked. "He's never been that cold before. Why did his lips turn blue and everything?"

The Undertaker was flipping through his medical books.

"It's a cold fever," he said. "Demons love heat; regular fevers won't hurt them. But they can still have fevers, only their fevers come from a decrease in temperature rather than an increase."

"How do you know so much about demons?"

The Undertaker looked up and grinned.

"We reapers don't spend all of our time collecting souls, you know. We still need actual working jobs and everything. But I've always been interested in the unholy, so once I finished school and got my lawyer degree, I went back and studied unholies and Hell. I'm not as knowledgeable as a real unholy, but I do try." He looked over at Eleanora, who was humming quietly to herself.

"She's pretty," he suddenly said. "Where'd you get her?"

"She worked for a middle-class family," Ciel said.

"And the butler fell in love with her?"

"Not…exactly."

And Ciel told him everything—the recent crimes, there being only one witness, his orders, Sebastian's treatment of her…It was quite embarrassing, but the Undertaker didn't seem to judge.

"That's horrible," he said when Ciel had finished. "He should apologize to her immediately. Look at her! Such a little angel. And so smart too! He had better be begging for forgiveness once he feels better."

"I think so too," Ciel said and they spent the rest of the evening pouring over the medical books, discussing the unholies.

Sebastian woke up the next morning feeling very cold and empty. At first he wondered if he had gotten drunk last night but then he tried to move and there was a flash of pain in his head and his side and he remembered everything and he groaned.

Eleanora was leaning against the fireplace. There was a book by her side; she must have been trying to keep herself awake, but she had fallen asleep anyway. When he groaned and shifted around, she woke up with a jolt and rubbed sleep out of her eyes.

"Good morning," she said tiredly. "How are you feeling?"

He moaned in reply. His head really hurt. But that was good; pain meant that his brain had gotten damaged by the angelica and it was now healing. He didn't want to tell this to Eleanora, and thankfully she didn't ask. He didn't want her to think that he was brain damaged or something.

The Undertaker had woken up the earliest and came into the room with the rolling cart filled with the foods that he was able to find. While Eleanora and Ciel ate, the Undertaker created a drink from the vials and forced Sebastian to drink it. Sebastian winced a lot as it went down, and when he had finished it, the Undertaker unwrapped the bandages around his torso.

The bullet wound hadn't healed; it still looked like a big hole in his side, and the skin around it was still deathly white with the angelica poisoning. But his head had stopped hurting, which meant that his brain was fully healed and his body could go on to fix any other damaged organs—as usual, starting with the most important and continuing down to the ones that could wait for another day or so.

The Undertaker began gently pressing around the wound and asking questions while Sebastian made strange noises in reply.

"Does this hurt?"

"Gurgh…"

"Does this hurt?"

"Argth…"

"Does this hurt?"

"YAAAIIING!"

The Undertaker flipped through his books while Sebastian glared at him, holding his side protectively.

"The organs around the shot have been damaged," he said, "but everything else seems to be okay. The main area of damage is your stomach; I think that about half of it has been destroyed, but nothing a little rest won't fix! I think you're steady enough to go back to the manor."

Eleanora stood up, stretched, and walked over to the window, where she froze.

"Oh shit," she said.

"What? What is it?"

"They're back," she growled and got her rifle.

"They're back? Who's back?" the Undertaker looked out the window. Sebastian tried to sit up.

"Those men in glasses," Eleanora said, loading and checking the gun. "They're back and they looked pissed."

She slowly opened the window and stuck the rifle out, just enough to get a good shot, but not enough to be seen.

"What are you going to do?" Ciel asked.

"…I think I'll try shooting off that little bastard's glasses. You think I could hit them from here?"

"…I doubt it," Ciel said, getting a bit excited, "but try it anyway."

The Undertaker was having difficulty restraining Sebastian; he was trying to get up.

"H-Here, let me, I c-could do it…"

"You get up and this bullet is going through your head," Eleanora said and Sebastian slumped against the Undertaker's side with a sigh.

Eleanora steadied herself, aimed, and fired.

She missed, but the shot came close enough so that the leader—the blonde one with a bit of brown—jumped back, tripped, and fell to the ground, breaking his taped-up glasses. Eleanora hissed with pleasure, but then one of the men pointed up at her:

"Look!"

And she swore.

"What is it? What's going on? What's happening?"

"…I don't think that they're very happy," Eleanora said, watching with dread as the men tried breaking down the front door. "I think that we have to get out of here as fast as possible."

"Brilliant! And how are we going to do that?"

"I—don't—know," Eleanora said hesitantly, looking around. They had a little kid, an old man, a wounded man, and a maid. This wasn't looking good. Worst of all, her left arm was beginning to hurt again. "Does anyone have any ideas?"

The Undertaker stood up.

"I have one. It might not work, but I think that we'll still be able to get out of here."

The reapers had to pause from breaking the door down. A lot of their glasses had been broken and then poorly fixed; it was difficult to see. One of them sat down and looked moodily across the lawn. Will would not be pleased. And then he saw something crossing the lawn in the distance.

"Hey, who are those guys?"

Everybody else looked. It was hard to see, especially without proper glasses, but eventually it became clear that it was two undertakers and a coffin, riding on a wagon being pulled by an irritated-looking donkey.

"…Do you think that's them?" one of the reapers asked.

"No, it can't be," another one said. "There were three of them before, and now there's only two."

"Two plus a dead body," said another. "Do you suppose the demon died?"

"What?" the leader yelped. "He can't have died!"

"That's right; it couldn't be them," another said. "Remember that there was a tiny little kid and a woman with the demon, and those are two really big men. It couldn't possibly be them."

Madam Red was anxiously waiting outside of Phantomhive. She had found two stacks of clothing—one was Sebastian's and the other one was pieces of Ciel's poor-boy costume. She didn't know where they had gone; Ciel had told her that he would be back by midnight; it was now high noon and they still weren't back…

A cart pulled by a donkey arrived. The Undertaker was controlling the donkey; he politely raised his hat to Madam Red and grinned.

There was another man sitting at the edge of the cart; he lifted up his hat and her long black hair spilled out…

"Eleanora?" Madam Red said, shocked. "But…where's Ciel? Where's Sebastian?"

Eleanora smiled crookedly and lifted up her black undertaker coat. Ciel was sitting in-between her legs, looking very stuffy and awkward.

"Sebastian's in the coffin," he told his aunt after she had finished hugging him.

"What's he doing in a coffin?"

"He isn't feeling well," Eleanora said. She and the Undertaker grabbed the coffin and staggered inside until they reached Sebastian's room. Then they opened the coffin and placed the very weak butler on the bed.

The Undertaker gave Eleanora some more instructions and a bottle filled with the proper antiseptic while Ciel told Madam Red all that had happened to them last night. The Undertaker shook hands, told Sebastian to feel better, and then he left.

Madam Red and Ciel went to talk to Grell. Eleanora sat down at the desk in the butler's room and smiled. Everything was alright now. She was safe.

And then her left arm started hurting again.