Okayyy…. So this is the last chapter!
Moony: Finally…. But allow me to introduce all of you Fanfictioneers to our good friend, Dr. Prongsie, who has graciously agreed to co-write this author's note!
Prongsie: *strokes beard* Hm, what to say, what to say…
Moony: *rolls eyes* Thank you, Dr. Prongsie. Now leave.
Moony, don't be rude! Or I'll go tell Holly-chan to get that big stick and-
Moony: FINE! *overly polite* Dear Prongs, won't you regale us with your rapier wit?
Prongsie: …*blink*…*tackleglomps Moony* MUH-HOONY! …and Johnny Depp, just for the heck of it.
Holly: I leik 2 tyPe leik dis cuz I'm kewl like dat.
The fudge? Holly, when the heck did you get here? How are you here? This is my fanfiction.
Holly: I was just here to remind you about yo guest star appearance in mine. Plus….
…not yet. ;D
Love you, too, nii-chan. *sigh*
BlackXWhite: And then there's me…..sitting over here…..all unnoticed…so Canadian….. XD
*others continue conversation as if nothing was said* HETALIA FTW!
Moony: You people are crazy. Why am I friends with you, again?
All: … Cuz you love us?
Holly, would you do the honors?
Holly: Unfortunately, Maya and Moony do not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. If they did, well….they'd be sharing the madness they would cause with me. xD
A lightning bolt tore Anya's mind in two. One half was screaming, louder than she had ever screamed before. The pain was burning like the fires of Hades itself, blossoming like a whip-lashing rose of thorns. The other half was muted and silent, the calm determination of her act keeping back the turmoil of Anya's torment.
And right in between the two factions was a glowing beacon, bringing the extremes into mediation. The fire of the burning faction receded enough for Anya to blearily see Alois and Eugene grappling on the ground with their bare hands. She sighed with relief, although it pained her to do so. Eugene had spent his whole life laboring in the stable yards; his strength would win out.
Anya gave herself to the numbing power of that glowing beacon, expecting that she would be dead in a few moments. Instead, the light shone ever brighter, bringing her senses into crystal clarity.
I'm not going to let you give up, the voice sounded in her head. Not after everything else I've put you through!
Who are you? Anya thought back. It was strange, since the voice was identical to hers. Why am I not dying?
She sensed a more physical presence near her. Anya opened her eyes to see twin pools of striking amethyst hovering above her. A girl who could be Anya's twin helped her to her feet, and she realized that they weren't in Alois's house anymore. They were in that same cloudy whiteness from the night of the Equinox.
Well, almost my twin, Anya amended. Her hair looks just like Hannah's. It's completely silver!
"You can call me Creel," the girl answered. "That's the name I've gotten used to. And you aren't dying because I say you aren't." She held a hand over Anya's abdomen, where the bullet had gone straight into her stomach. The wound was suffused with light, and, suddenly, it wasn't a wound at all.
"You can keep it if you want," Creel offered Anya a cleaned bullet. "It could be good luck."
"It was you?" Anya breathed, bewildered. "You're the reason I've been healing so quickly? But Alois said that was a Blessing from-"
"An angel?" Creel smiled sadly. "Sorry to say, but I'm your girl."
"How did this happen?"
"I don't have time to explain right now," Creel fretted. "I wish I did, but this is taking up far too much energy. My powers aren't what they used to be." She snapped her fingers, and the clouds started melting away. Anya could suddenly feel her body again, lying unconscious on the floor. The sounds of a struggle reached her ears.
"Anya, I need you to listen to me very closely. When you wake up, you will have a trace of this power left in you for a short time." A writhing ray of light streamed from Creel and into Anya's hand. "If you act quickly, you can still save Finny. No, he isn't dead- yet. You must go to him, and think of me. It will drain nearly all of the energy that I have left, but I owe you this at least for putting your life down this path."
"Wait," Anya urged. Her hold on this world was slipping, but she needed to know more. "Are you the one who interfered with my destiny? What will happen if I use this?"
"It doesn't matter," Creel promised. She folded the bullet into Anya's hand and waved her own hand in front of the brunette's eyes.
Anya started awake, clambering jerkily to her feet. She had to ignore Eugene and Alois for now; her only objective was lying in a pool of blood a few feet away.
"Please, Creel," Anya whimpered. She folded her bullet into Finny's hand and placed both of her hands over his quivering breastbone. Thank God, he isn't dead. "Save him, I'm begging you."
The same stream of light from before flowed from Anya's hands like water, sinking into Finny's skin. Anya waited for what seemed like centuries before feeling the nearly nonexistent beat of her best friend's heart slowly become stronger and faster. Finny suddenly convulsed into a coughing fit, hacking and choking. A small metal sphere popped out onto the floor, and he groaned. Finny's clear eyes snapped open.
"No!" he screamed, darting upright. The movement made him dizzy, and he had to lie back down. He stared up at Anya with a goofy, glazed expression. "Your hair is brown again," he giggled.
"You're delusional," Anya laughed, tears running down her cheeks. She kissed his cheek lovingly.
"No," he said adamantly. "I just saw you… your hair was white, or silver, or…" Finny studied her for a minute. "But your eyes are different now. What happened?"
"I don't know," Anya soothed. "But it's okay. At least I don't have white hair anymore, right?"
Finny nodded. "Yeah. I like it better this way…" He trailed off, totally out of it. He was crazy, unconscious, and possibly color blind. But he was alive.
Thank you, Creel.
A huge crash behind her shook Anya to attention. The large front doors had just been pulled off of their hinges and left outside. The early morning sky was coloring with the approaching dawn. A lone figure was silhouetted against the gray clouds.
"It is good to see you again, Miss Anya," Agni bowed. "Earl Phantomhive said that you might be in need of assistance."
"H-Hello, Agni," Anya fumbled. "Alois and Eugene are-"
"Right here, your ladyship!"
Anya squeaked and turned to find Alois hogtied on the floor. Eugene stood over him, smirking. He had a few new bruises decorating his face, but Alois was much worse for the wear.
"I can't believe you let this wimp kidnap you, Anya," he chuckled. "He's a pansy! I mean, compared to me-"
"At least he was able to kidnap me properly," she teased back. "You didn't even get me out of the house!" Eugene stuck out his tongue at her, and they both laughed, relieved that everyone was alright.
"Wait," Anya panicked. "Where's Sebastian?"
"Have some faith, won't you?" Sebastian was suddenly there, with Alois under his arm like a sack. "Claude won't bother us now; he's a bit tied up at the moment."
Claude cursed Sebastian in every language he knew, which was quite a few. He was surrounded by thousands of nearly invisible threads. As his body began to shake, one of the razor sharp silver threads sliced through his sleeve and gently caressed his arm, drawing blood.
The spider was caught in his own web.
"It's wonderful to see you, Agni," Sebastian smiled.
"Likewise, my friend."
"Hey, what happened to gardener?" Eugene gasped. He looked Finny over, searching for the bullet wound. All that was left was the excess blood and a light pink scar. He stood shakily, eyes flitting from one person in the room to another. "He- he was barking dead a few minutes ago!"
"Not quite," Anya whispered. She slipped the silver shining bullet into the pocket of Finny's jacket. "He never fully left us. Agni, could you please help me with Finny?" Together, the two lifted the unconscious boy from the floor, not minding the sticky blood. Anya only let Agni carry Finny alone after nearly losing her grip several times. They crossed the threshold of the empty doorway and stepped into the early morning. Standing at the front gate were Hannah and the triplets; Thompson, Canterbury, and Timber.
"Please wait," Hannah called, not making any move toward them. "Please return Earl Trancy to us, butler."
"My master wishes to make an official arrest on Lord Trancy for the murders of the business owners in London," Sebastian replied smoothly. "You and your coworkers have been busy these past weeks, covering his tracks and hiding him."
"Please," Hannah repeated, taking a step forward. "Master Luka has ordered me to save his brother if he is in danger at any cost. I will be forced to kill if necessary." Her eyes tried to lock on Anya's, begging for her to understand. Anya looked away. The older girl's betrayal still stung.
"Sebastian," Anya said softly. "D-Demons only have to obey direct orders, don't they?" The butler looked surprised, but nodded. "Did Ciel give you a direct order to arrest Alois?"
"No," Sebastian reluctantly admitted. "My orders were to find and rescue you, and to keep Finian safe." He shook his head, not believing what the maid was suggesting. "This is your chance to make sure he won't hurt you again. Are you so mad as to hand him over for no reason?"
Anya eyed Sebastian with both wariness and exasperation, a strange combination. Now that she knew his true nature, - Now what? Anya realized that the fact that her comrade wasn't a human being didn't change her view of him at all. He was still the twisted, sarcastic soul that she had grown accustomed to at the manor.
"Are you so mad as to arrest someone for no reason?" she finally retorted. "No jail cell could keep Alois; Claude or Hannah or those three over there could have him out before the lock was turned. Just save yourself and Ciel the trouble and call this case dead."
"Anya-"
"Just hand him over, Sebastian!"
"… Very well." Sebastian crossed the small distance to Trancy's servants. The triplets stepped forward and Sebastian deposited Alois into their arms. In an instant, they were in the house. One took care of Alois while the other two untangled Claude.
"Thank you," Hannah smiled. "Master Luka wishes to thank you, as well."
"You're welcome," Anya whispered. She looked Hannah in the eyes for the first time, and was struck by the regret she saw there. "I heard you, before. I know you were following your orders. Are we still friends?"
Hannah looked relieved. "O-Of course. I was worried that you would hate me… Did he tell you about..?"
"My grandfather? Yes, I know he's dead. What about it?" Anya's tone was dead; she was too tired to deal with much more. Well, I just died, so… yeah.
"That makes you the new head of house." Hannah said slowly, as if speaking to an invalid.
Anya blinked. "Come again?"
"The Count is dead," Hannah enunciated. "You are his last blood relative, the heir to his estate. The entire Rosenbloom enterprise belongs to you."
Anya looked around sleepily. "Sebastian?" she implored. "What do I do with a company?"
"The head of the company must keep up with its finances, schedules, trading, overseas relations-"
"I don't want to do that. Can someone else do it for me?"
Sebastian shook his head. "The only way to give over the company to someone else is to either die-"
"Did that," Anya mumbled.
"Or sell it out to a buyer," the butler concluded.
"That's easy," Anya said bluntly. "Couldn't Ciel do it? He doesn't even have to buy it; he can just take it. A company wouldn't be of any use to a maid, but Ciel is used to managing things like this, right?"
Sebastian blinked. "You want to give the young master a company… so you can continue to work as his maid?"
"Why Sebastian," Anya smirked. "A true Phantomhive butler would understand immediately; my only goal is to serve. Besides, I haven't got the first idea as to how one runs a business!" She looked doubtful for the first time. "Ciel will take the company for me, won't he?"
"…Agni, would you mind escorting Lady Criel and Finian to the main house? I'll be going on ahead to consult the young master."
"Of course."
"I should go home, too," Hannah sighed and watched the butler's trailing dust hit the first rays of morning light. "Earl Trancy will wake soon and need medical attention." As she made for the front door of the mansion, Anya called out to her.
"Hannah! I meant what I said about writing! You know my address!" She winked and trotted after Agni to help him situate Finny on one of two black horses tied to a tree.
I think she could have made brother happy, Luka despaired. Why do we have to let her leave?
"Your brother would crush her spirit," Hannah whispered gently. "Without that hopeful spirit, she wouldn't be happy, herself. Tearing another soul apart wouldn't make Master Alois happy."
We will find something, won't we?
"Yes, my lord," Hannah smiled. "I promise you that we will."
"Anya!" Mey-rin cried. Her greeting carried across the front lawn as she made a beeline for the quickly approaching horses. "You're all right, yes!"
Anya laughed and waved from her side-saddle position, making sure to keep one arm wrapped securely around her partner's middle. Finny was still knocked out, but it was from exhaustion rather than injury. It had been difficult to ride the horse in this position at first, (and wearing a nightgown and jacket, no less!) but Anya was an expert equestrian and got the hang of it quickly enough. Agni dismounted his horse before helping Anya slide Finny from the saddle.
"Oh, my!" Mey-rin gasped when she saw the gardener. Bard had heard her shouts and was exiting the manor behind her. "Is he…?"
"He's fine, 'Rin," said a voice to her left. Bard put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Finny's too tough to be down for long. I've seen this happen before; he's so unused to major injury that when he does lose a lot of blood, he just sleeps it off for a day or two. Right, Anya?"
"Yes, he's okay," the maid confirmed. "He took quite a hit, though. I can't believe we made it." Suddenly, Anya felt quite tired herself. I'm home, her heart seemed to rejoice.
"Lady Criel," a voice called from above. Anya looked up to see Sebastian leaning from a high window. It didn't take Anya long to realize that it was the study window that the butler had repaired. "The young master would like to speak with you."
Lady? Mey-rin and Bard thought simultaneously.
"I'll just be a minute," Anya called. She turned to Agni and Bard. "Bard, can you get Finny to bed on your own?"
"Er, sure thing." The cook accepted the bundled up gardener from Agni and set out for the door.
"Anya, why did-?"
"I'll have to tell you later, Mey-rin," Anya said sadly. She pulled Finny's jacket around herself more tightly. "The young master is waiting for me."
"You do realize what you're throwing away?" Ciel pressed again. "This is an entire legacy that has been passed on to you. Are you sure you don't want to think about it?"
Anya shook her head. "A thing like that would be lost on me. This could help you with your duties to Her Majesty." She tapped the outline of the business on the desk between them. "Grandfather had several shares in major stocks, including Funtom Toy Company. There are also railroad connections, steamships, that old mine… You can do whatever you want with them."
Ciel smirked. "You have yourself a deal, Lady Criel." He frowned at the sour face she pulled. "What's the matter?"
"I don't want to be the head of a household," Anya sighed. "Getting rid of a company is one thing, but how do I get out of the Rosenbloom title?"
"You don't," Sebastian interjected. "I suppose you could simply 'go missing', but the only one who could officially remove your status is-"
"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria," Ciel finished. He sighed and fingered his fountain pen restlessly. "I suppose if you really wanted, I could write to her and see what happens."
The maid raised an eyebrow. "I may not know much about how all of this works, but I'm almost positive that asking the Queen of England a favor like that wouldn't be normal. Thank you, anyway. But Sebastian, what was that thing about 'going missing'?"
"There is always an alternate for the head of a noble family," the butler recited. "Although the current head of the family -meaning you- cannot simply abdicate, there is an exception. If you were to disappear or become unable to perform your duties, the position would go to the alternate."
Very good, Ciel approved. He hasn't forgotten a single thing from those studies.
"So if I 'disappear' after I give Ciel the company, the alternate will run the Count-like things while Ciel keeps the business?" Anya asked. Ciel nodded. "So, who is the alternate?"
Ciel shuffled through some papers on the desk until he found it. "Oh, you must be kidding me…"
"What?" Anya urged. "Who is it?"
Sebastian read over his master's shoulder and smirked. "Oh, it isn't all that bad. It seems that in his last recorded writings, the Count intended for mister Alistair Chambers to be the successor of the estate."
Anya cocked her head to one side. She had never heard that name before. "Who is Alistair Chambers?"
"He's also known as the Vicount Druitt," Ciel groaned. "He is by far the most annoying bastard I've ever met."
"Why would grandfather name him as successor?" Anya wondered. "This is the first I've even heard of him."
"May I?" Sebastian plucked a small slip of paper from the pile. "This appears to be an engagement license between Lord Druitt and a Lady Amelia Rosenbloom."
"Mother?" Anya snatched the paper away from Sebastian. "You were going to marry someone else?" She whimpered. "Why would you do that?"
"Look a little more closely at your mother's signature," Sebastian advised. The certificate held three signatures; the familiar, cramped writing of Count Rosenbloom; the loopy, flamboyant scrawl of Vicount Druitt; and the loose, careful script of Anya's mother. As Anya brought the sheet to her face, she noticed light blots where the ink had run on her mother's handwriting.
"Those are tears," Sebastian added. "She was crying when she signed it, so we can assume that she wasn't marrying Lord Chambers willingly."
"Sebastian," Ciel laughed nervously. "We can't tell that those are tears just from looking, can we?"
"I can smell the salt, my lord."
"Sebas-!"
"It's okay, Ciel," Anya sighed. "I know about Sebastian's… origins. It doesn't bother me, and I still view him as the same old stick in the mud as before."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Ciel put his head in his hands. "Alright, alright! My maid is Blessed and friends with my demon butler. I'm completely caught up now, aren't I?"
"Not quite," Anya said slowly. "My lord, I really don't think that I have the Blessing that Claude was talking about."
"But you did have contact with the angel, correct? Isn't that how you healed both yourself and Finny?"
"Yes, I talked to Creel. But Alois told me that a Blessing protected a household from misfortune. Since I've been here, the attacks on your house haven't lessened; on the contrary, I caused a few of them. I really don't think a so-called Blessing would allow that." Anya rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned. "I don't know what happened with me and Creel, but she didn't Bless me."
"I'm sorry," Ciel said apologetically. "You've been up for most of the night, haven't you?" He eyed Anya's nightwear and then averted his gaze. "Go get some rest; I'll call up Lord Druitt and take care of the papers."
"Thank you," she murmured. As Anya staggered to the study door, Ciel had a sudden thought.
"Anya?
"Yes?"
"Have you looked in a mirror since you returned?" Ciel asked in an offhand manner.
"No," Anya answered, automatically patting at her hair. Sebastian sighed and disappeared for a few seconds, suddenly returning with a full length mirror. He set the mirror in front of Anya for her inspection.
"I'm so sorry," she grumbled, straightening her nightgown and Finny's jacket. "I've hardly had time to primp after all that's-"
"Look."
Anya scrutinized her reflection. Her feet were still bare, and had felt the chill of a long ride. She scrunched them into the carpet for warmth. Her eyes traveled upwards to the hem of the white pajamas and jacket. The warm brown material trailed past Anya's waist, whereas on Finny it barely passed his hips. As suspected, her hair was a mess; the top was a bird's nest while her bangs fell in web-like patterns across-
"M-My eyes!" Anya stepped closer to the quicksilver reflection, blinking rapidly and shoving hair out of the way. Her left eye was just as it had always been. Her right had turned completely green; a light jade corona around the pupil blooming into deep emerald around the edges of the iris.
"S-Sebastian… I think that I might-"
"Of course," Sebastian bowed. He stepped forward and caught Anya as she lost consciousness. His trademark smirk slipped, however, when he sensed most of the girl's inner functions slow down rapidly.
"Young master, something isn't right!" Sebastian scooped Anya up, for once not knowing what to do. "Her heartbeats and breathing have slowed dramatically, and her temperature is decreasing by the second. We must-"
"She's fine."
Ciel shrieked at the voice coming from behind him. He flung back the curtains to reveal Hannah outlined against the glass.
"Anya will be okay," the maid repeated. "There is something that she needs, and she will wake up when she has found it."
"When she finds what?" Ciel demanded. He edged farther away from the window. "How do you know about this?"
"Lord Phantomhive, I know better than anyone else what it is like to have another soul living inside of you. That angel has finished its quest; now it's up to Lady Criel to send it home." With that, she tumbled from the window sill and ran off to tend to Alois, who was just waking up with a nasty headache.
"…ya. Anya! Wake up, please! We don't have much time!"
Anya sat up, holding her pounding head. It hurt to look around; the light was so bright! A shadow fell across her face, and she peeked between her fingers at the figure looming over her.
"Creel?"
"Yes, it's me, nice to see you, etc., etc. Just get up!" The angel hoisted Anya to her feet and pushed her in the direction of a glowing light. "You need to know everything quickly so I can get out of here. Just watch and I promise I'll explain everything later!" Creel disappeared from Anya's sight as she was swallowed by the brightness.
Anya was floating again. It was just like her dream –or Cinematic Record, she recalled- in that she had no sensation in her body at all. She was near the ceiling of Count Rosenbloom's study. A much younger looking Count was arguing with a young man and woman. The woman was dressed finely and had her long brown hair in curly waves. The man was weathered and rugged, but still only in his early twenties. His mossy eyes flashed with determination as he addressed the Count. Anya realized with a sob that the young couple was Amelia and Ian Criel.
"I won't have it!" the Count boomed. "Amelia, I forbade you to interact with him. You deliberately disobeyed me!"
"Father," Amelia cried. "I love Ian! Can't you just let us be happy?"
"Please, sir. I love your daughter more than anything in the world."
"Don't talk to me," the Count spat. He pointed a shaking finger at Ian. "You are officially fired. You have five minutes to leave my lands before I have you arrested."
"Don't you dare." Amelia stood in front of Ian. "Father, I'm not going to marry that man. It wouldn't be fair." She held up her left hand and showed off the small silver band on her ring finger. "Ian and I are husband and wife and nothing you say can change that."
"You are-! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send you to- to a nunnery!"
"Because I'm pregnant!"
The Count froze, a hand clutched at his heart. In a sudden flurry of rage, he ripped open one of his desk drawers and pulled out a handgun. "You son of a-!"
BANG!
Amelia screamed. She knelt by her husband's side as his lifeblood flooded the floor. Anya felt something wet on her face and realized that she was crying. She felt a wave of sympathy wash over her, a feeling that was not hers.
That poor man. Again, the thought was not Anya's. His life shouldn't have ended this way.
The scene shifted to the last thing Anya had seen in her Cinematic Record. Collette Tolliver stood with the infant Anya in her arms. A knock sounded on the door and Count Rosenbloom entered. He cried when he saw his lifeless daughter and grandchild.
This isn't right, the thoughts raged. No one family should have to suffer this much. Apprehension filled Anya, and she felt her spiritual embodiment move to hover over the dead baby Anya. She breathed a slow breath, and there was a flash of light. A healthy baby girl opened her large purple eyes and cried.
Anya felt herself being whisked through the void again. That was Creel, she realized. Creel… she literally gave me life! I really was born dead, but she saved me. But that wasn't a Blessing, was it? Her thoughts were interrupted by a new picture. She was still viewing past events through Creel's eyes.
"You have broken our most sacred law," a voice intoned. At the top of a great golden stairway, a strikingly handsome man stood in the clouds. His hair was as white as the new fallen snow, his eyes the color of dark violets. Creel was on her knees at the foot of the stairs, bound in silver chains.
"Archangel, please," she sobbed. "I- I couldn't just let that child-!"
"You took the life of a human into your hands," the archangel continued emotionlessly. "To attempt to control fate is to assume yourself as God. You abused the authority given to you by Heaven, and you must suffer the consequences. Do you repent?"
"No," Creel strained. "I will not repent, but I will beg you not to take that child's life away from her!"
"A gift from Heaven is never taken once given freely," he sighed. "But that child now possesses a part of your soul. You gave too much of your spirit in your act, and you may not stay here any longer. You will be as the Fallen are; unable to take your own form or shape. When the time comes, that child whose destiny you countered will be faced with a choice, and your life will rest with her. Only then may you return to our Blessed home. May our God have mercy on your immortal soul."
Creel and Anya cried out in unison as the silver chains dragged them through the clouds; down, down, down to the earth below.
The next thing Anya felt was that most joyous sensation of flying. Rivers and trees flitted past with each beat of her wings. Contrasting with her joy of flight was a crushing sadness emanating from Creel. She was bound to hop from one consciousness to another, only controlling the actions of small creatures. Such as birds. The bird was hungry, so Creel allowed it to light on the roof of a stone building.
As the bird's natural instincts regained control of its actions and Creel began to sink deeper into its mind, the sound of sobbing came to her ears from a barred window underneath her. She took back control from the bird and fluttered down to rest on the sill. A small human boy with plain garb and a shaved head was sitting in the corner of the bare room, crying.
T-That's Finny! Anya gasped from her vantage point in the bird. This is where those doctors kept him for injections?
Creel's sympathy for the young lad was prominent in the forefront of her mind; she saw how lonely he was. Anya could feel time passing; every morning for maybe a fortnight, the bird would land on the window sill and watch Finny. Sometimes he would be too tired to pay them much attention, but on most days he would smile and talk to the little bird.
On a particularly sunny day, Creel brought the bird to the window again. In the time she'd spent around the compound, she had discovered the use of experiments on the children here. She felt even sorrier for the boy than before. When Finny clumsily attempted to mimic the bird's whistling voice, Creel led it into a shallow dive and entered the room. The boy looked delighted, the happiest that Creel had seen him yet.
"Hello," he whispered, holding out his hand. His offered the bird some of his own bread. "Would you like to be my friend, little birdie?" Anya almost tried to keep it from happening, though it was no use. The bird flapped into Finny's open hand and pecked lightly at the food. Finny sighed contently and raised his other hand slowly to pat the bird on the head.
It was dark. Anya felt Creel's fear and pain as though through a shroud of mist. She worried over what to do, where to go. She was too weak to carry on how she had been. Her spirit only had one safe place to repair and revive itself. Creel let loose her hold on the tethers that held her spirit to the earth and let herself be drawn to the largest source of her own energy; a young girl with brown hair and violet eyes.
Days and weeks and months passed by in fast forward. Christmas. Anya's birthday. The lone hours in the garden. All of it recorded from the very back of Anya's mind, where Creel waited. She repaired and restored herself, growing steadily stronger. Then one evening came into focus.
"Milady," a maid whimpered. "T-the Count would like for you to come to dinner." Anya turned away from her desk and the poor girl jumped, trembling.
"Thank you, Nina," Anya sighed. "Can you tell him that I'll be along shortly?"
"Do- Do you need any-?"
"No, thank you," she said sadly. She tried to smile at the terrified younger girl. "I can get ready on my own." After Nina left, she changed out of her more comfortable clothes and into her least complicated gown. "I hope everyone isn't upset," the old Anya muttered to herself. "I guess I shouldn't have suddenly thrown such a tantrum last night…"
Oh no. Anya looked at the memory with growing fear. This is that night!
Anya left her room and crossed the courtyard to the dining hall. Every servant she passed bowed fearfully and gave her a wide berth. Suddenly, a kitchen hand gave a shout and they were upon her. Faces of people she had known her whole life flashed by; Cook, Nina, the blonde maid, the one stable girl, and Eugene. Always Eugene. The memory took Anya through the whole bloody ordeal, right through to her meeting with Sebastian. When she blacked out, the memories floated away.
Anya was in the white void once again. Now she saw the same golden stairs from Creel's past. Creel herself was still chained just out of reach of the first stair. The numerous chains were mostly broken, lying in heaps around the angel's ankles. Only one strand of silver links was keeping her from returning to her home.
"Anya," she begged. She clawed uselessly at the manacle on her wrist. "Please… you're the only one who can break this!" Anya ran through the syrupy fog to kneel by her guardian's side.
"What can I do?"
"You have the key," Creel grunted, pointing to the small round hole on the manacle. "You have to give it back to me, or I'll never be able to break free of your consciousness!"
"What key?" Anya questioned. She patted down the sides of the jacket. All she could find was the bullet that Creel had given her before.
"That," Creel breathed in relief. "Please Anya, you need to focus. Imagine… Imagine a bright light inside of you. I need you to let that light soak into that bullet. That is what is holding me here. That is our link that I formed at your birth. Hurry, I don't have much time!"
Anya cleared her mind and held the small metal bead in both hands. As her eyelids slipped down, she understood that if she let Creel go, she would only be a normal human. A part of her fought against it, and wanted her to keep the angel's powers for herself. It told her how useless she would be without Creel; she couldn't fight, she couldn't protect Ciel, and she would lose the thing that had given her life a jumpstart.
What will I be without that power? She panicked. I don't know how to make it if it's only me! Then she remembered that it wasn't Creel who had escaped Rosenbloom manor. It was Anya who had found Ciel's house, made friends there, and become an exceptional maid. It had been Anya who lashed out against Alois at the gala.
And it was Anya who Finny had told that he loved her.
With a shuddering breath, Anya imagined that pure light inside of her swirling to her hands and into the bullet. She instantly felt lighter, as if a whole other load of worries and emotions had lifted from her heart. She opened her eyes to see the small sphere in her hands engulfed in light. Without any urging from Creel, she slowly took the angel's bound hand in hers and slid the pulsing orb into the keyhole. The shackles sprung open with a small pop.
"Anya," Creel laughed. Tears of joy were running freely down her face. "You precious, precious, child. Thank you!" She hugged Anya tightly before straightening and facing the glittering stairway. As she raised her face to the light, two silvery, feathered wings unfurled from her sides. Creel's gossamer wings lifted her high above Anya's head.
"I won't forget this," she promised. "Dear sister… I can't repay you for this. You willingly gave up that which you felt had helped you the most. I can never truly give you a Blessing, but you have my thanks. If you ever really need me, know that I will do my best to help you. Goodbye, little one. Your loved ones are waiting. Go live your life." Creel raised her arms, and Anya fell back into the darkness.
"How long has she been like this?" Finny fretted. "Shouldn't she be waking up by now?" Anya was laid out on Ciel's desk. Sebastian had refused to move her from the study, or even touch her. Something was mingling with the girl's essence, and the demon didn't like it at all.
"'She will wake once she finds what she needs'," Ciel quoted. "If what Hannah said was true, all we can do is wait." Finny keened with worry and resumed pacing the room. He was the only other servant in the study. Bard and Mey-rin had insisted that they come in too, but Ciel had shot them down. The only reason Finny was there was because the Earl feared that he might break something. He had woken shortly after Anya had blacked out, and had immediately sought her out.
"You were unconscious for far longer than Anya," Sebastian reminded him. "It's only been ten minutes and forty-three seconds."
"How is she supposed to find something if she's asleep?" Finny blurted. "What is it she needs to find?"
"Finian," Sebastian said firmly. "Do you remember what happened this morning?"
"A little," Finny confessed. "I thought I got shot, though… What really happened?"
"To make a long story short, you almost left us," the butler said sadly. Ciel blinked. He could have sworn he just saw remorse in Sebastian's eyes. "Anya was able to call you back."
"Really? All I remember was darkness… But then I heard her voice, calling for me." Finny clenched a hand over his heart. "She needed me, so I followed the sound. And then I saw Anya, except it wasn't her. She had white hair. She hugged me and touched me where I got shot. Then I opened my eyes and Anya was above me, crying. Her hair was normal, but her eye..." He walked tentatively closer to where Anya was laid and gently took her hand.
"That's what she needs to do now," Sebastian said softly. "You found your way back, and now Anya is finding hers."
"Anya," Finny whispered. "I don't know what you're looking for, but please find it soon and come back to me." He raised her still fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. "I need you to come back to me because I love you."
Anya jerked into wakefulness with a gasp. She fell off of the desk, but Finny caught her before she could hit the floor. He barely gave her time to orient herself before drawing her into a lung-crushing hug. Anya didn't try to hold back her tears. She had never felt like crying this much in her entire life.
"You're safe now," Finny whispered in her ear. He settled her on his lap and held her while she cried. "You're safe and you're home and I won't ever let anything else hurt you." Anya nodded into his chest and looked up at him through her tears. Finny gently wiped the tears from her face, revealing her eyes.
"You're eyes are beautiful," he decided. Anya sniffed and looked at him with confusion.
"T-The purple one?" she croaked. "Or the green one?" Finny implored Sebastian with his eyes. The butler sighed heavily and turned the mirror on its side. Now that it was on Anya's level, she could clearly see that all traces of her unique violet eyes were gone.
"I really have my father's eyes," she whispered. She tackled the boy again, crying this time from joy. "Finny, I have my father's eyes and my mother's hair!" She laughed uncontrollably while the three young men watched, flabbergasted, and pondered the strange inner workings of their beloved friend.
Two weeks later
"Happy Birthday!" the assembled staff cheered. Anya squealed as Finny swept her off her feet and set her back down on the edge of a table. Bard had somehow prepared an amazing picnic for them in the greenhouse, consisting of some fruit, cheese, hot cocoa, and a small cake topped with white chocolate icing.
"Thank you, everyone," she laughed. "Let's dig in!" Mey-rin sat next to Bard on a large overturned flower pot, and Finny hopped onto the table with Anya. He smiled and squeezed her hand lightly. The Phantomhive servants ate, talked, and watched the fluffy snow fall through the glass of the greenhouse.
"So… you're fifteen now," Finny eventually said. Mey-rin nudged Bard and they inconspicuously slipped out into the cold.
"I- I guess I am," Anya answered. She gave Finny a look. He only stated the obvious like that when there was something on his mind.
"Well, that is, you see…" The gardener turned red and stared at the wood graining in the table. "Have you thought about… the future?"
"What do you mean?" Anya asked casually, though her heart was thumping frantically at his words. She pressed her thumb questioningly into the back of his hand.
"Oh, I'm not going to be able to say this right," Finny moaned. "But- But I'll say it, anyway." He scooted off of the table to look Anya in the eyes. "Anya, this might sound weird coming from me, but c-could you see us ever getting married?" He immediately dropped his gaze to the floor again, face redder than ever before.
Anya gasped. "Finny, I-"
"I know we're too young to be thinking about this, and I know that I couldn't provide anything for you and this work is really dangerous, and I'm clumsy-"
"And you ramble when you're nervous?"
"Yes! But you know I love you and I'm pretty sure you love me too, right? And you don't have to answer now- of course you don't, it's your birthday!- because you're only fifteen and I'll only be seventeen in a few months, but I just thought that-!"
"Finny?"
"Um, yes?"
Anya grinned at him. "Stop talking." She slid off of the table so she didn't have to talk down to him anymore. "You didn't let me finish. Do you really even have to ask?" She pulled closer to Finny and put her arms around him tightly. "Maybe not today, next year, or even the next, but I want to be with the person I'm in love with, and that's you, you silly, wonderful boy." Anya gave her blushing beau a chaste kiss to emphasize her words.
"R-Really?" Anya nodded. "Then let me do this properly!" Finny pulled away from Anya just a bit. He sank down on one knee and gazed deeply into Anya's emerald eyes. "Anya Criel, you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. You make me feel as if I could truly be your protector and partner in life. We don't need to just yet, but when the time comes, will you marry me?"
Anya Criel searched Finny's face. She was looking for any insecurity or doubt. What she saw was pure love and determination. So she took both of his hands in hers and spoke her first words as an engaged woman.
"For you, Finny, I will."
Pleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillme! GAH that ending! I'm sorry if it's too-
Moony: Too what? Cheesy, abrupt, predictable, lame, uninspired-
SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! I wanted this to end on a sweet note after explaining it all... wow, I really just sort of rushed through this chapter, didn't I? I got massive writer's block for a few days, so I tried to re-inspire myself my going over the previous 8 chapters and FINALLY doing some edits.
Moony: Well congrats, la-tee-dah, and a real big whoop. Can we please go back to our normal lives? I. Need. Sleep!
And I don't? I've been having dizzy spells... lack of sleep? Or is the paranoid doctor right and I really am anemic? Who cares, we finally finished Fallen! Thank you SO much to everyone who put up with me since October.
Moony: Happy V-Day, thanks muchly, and R&R, because you never know what this crazy chick might drag up next!
Actually, there was that old plot for the Shugo Chara fanfic with Kai-
*dial tone*