Author's Note: So, the current manga arc has some similarities to the fanfic, what with the dead coming back to life thing xD Smart Angel and I started planning this story around January, so it goes without saying that things coming to light in the current story arc were not taken into consideration. So let's just say that this fic is AU from the Murder Mystery arc onwards.

۞

Dinner was an... interesting affair, to say the least.

Vincent hadn't expected anything less, given the situation. Well, situation hardly seemed to cover it. A situation was breaking the good china or wearing the red vest with the beige slacks when socialising with the high fashion crowd. No, suddenly finding out you'd been deceased three years previously and your also three years older son had been ensnared by the Underworld it was your job to control, well, situation didn't really cover that. Vincent reserved a very special phrase for such otherwise indescribable circumstances – this was a clusterfuck, of epic proportions.

After Tanaka had left the room, lips tight despite their continued flood of questions, Vincent and Rachel had had their respective breakdowns.

Rachel switched off. Her face was a blank slate, her eyes glazed, and not a single thought came to the forefront of her mind. She was glad for the blankness. If she hadn't gone blank, she'd certainly have wept.

Vincent, on the other hand, abandoned his composure completely. It was best to get it out of the way, really, rather than hold onto it and end up cracking at dinner. So, he did just that, pacing swift circles around the room and chuntering to himself, hands running restlessly through his hair. He didn't even try to come to terms with his own, however temporary, death – rather, he tried to come up with a method to come to terms with his own, however temporary, death. Quite a challenging thing to do, and he was certainly in a minority to have to attempt such a feat. They didn't ready you for clusterfucks like this in Watchdog 101, that was for sure.

Unfortunately, after a half hour of this, Vincent still hadn't found a method for coping with your own death and decided to opt for option two; repression. Freud would be rolling in his grave.

It felt like no time at all before the bespectacled maid from earlier was knocking on their door and leading them down to the dining hall. This time, Rachel kept her eyes trained on the floor before her. She didn't want to see the differences between the Manor now and the home she remembered building.

Ciel was waiting for them, of course, and stood as they entered. Ever the polite host, he waited for them to be seated before sitting himself. He'd changed his clothes since earlier, was now sporting a blue jacket so dark it was almost black. All Rachel could think about was how she'd have chosen a colour that didn't make him look quite so pale.

"I trust the room is to your liking?" His tone was polite and impersonal. He wore a smile of plastic that could have fooled the world, but that his Mother could see through in a second. Rachel laced her fingers together and settled her joined hands on her knees, below the table and out of sight, squeezed so tightly together her knuckles turned white.

Vincent, however, was not to be outdone in business etiquette. His boy may have been the Earl for three years now, but Vincent had decades on him.

"Oh, yes. Very comfortable," Vincent smiled, "Thank you, Earl."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Please accept my apologies that I couldn't see to you earlier. It was most rude of me, to leave my guests unattended all afternoon. I hope you don't judge me too harshly." Ciel's little grin was almost impish, like he was in on a joke that no-one else knew, but his words had a rehearsed quality to them, like he was saying what he'd heard other people say and was simply following the herd.

"You're too hard on yourself. We were the rude ones, to simply turn up on your doorstep like that and demand to see you without an appointment. Accept my apology, I hope we didn't interrupt your work."

Rachel took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. The butler, Sebastian, started serving the first course, while her husband and son continued with their little play. This was wrong. This was so wrong. She looked towards the head of the table and saw her son, her little boy, playing the role of an adult. She remembered when, not long ago, that child fit in her arms. She remembered his beautiful smiles and cerulean eyes sparkling with childish innocence... And now, here was that same boy, hardened by something Rachel couldn't begin to imagine, playing her husband's role.

She could still remember the first time she was alone with Ciel and Vincent in the same room. Rachel lovingly looked at her newborn son, imagining what to name him. The smile on her face was so big that she felt it would rip her face apart, yet she couldn't care less. In her arms, Rachel realized at that moment, was her world. That small boy that looked so much like Vincent meant everything to her. She would do anything to protect that child, to keep him safe and happy.

"What should we name him?" she asked, while the baby slept in her arms. She caressed the bridge of his nose, and was rewarded by the baby slightly stirring in her arms... so cute...

"Ciel," Vincent answered after a pause, also smiling.

"Ciel?" Rachel repeated, looking at him smiling, "I like it... But why...?"

"This boy..." Suddenly Vincent's blissful expression morphed into one of melancholy, "is the only thing right in all I've done. I'm a Phantomhive, the Queen's watchdog, and as my duty, I've done things that can only be described as evil. Yet, somehow, with all my sins, I was able to make this boy, so pure and innocent... A creature of the heavens, of the sky." Rachel blinked her eyes, surprised at her husband's speech "I want to keep him like this... as long as possible."

But they didn't, Rachel realized. Her heart sunk when she realized that she failed her mission as a mother. Ciel's life was put in danger, he was placed in position he was not ready for and as a result, he lost his childhood. As she stared at that single blue eye and carefully crafted smile, Rachel couldn't help but be overwhelmed with the urge to hug her little boy, just like she would during a thunderstorm, and tell him everything was going to be okay.

Though the urge was strong, Rachel stopped herself. Vincent was going along with this ridiculous charade, so he must have some sort of plan.

"Not at all," Ciel answered, and the butler went back to his side. Soon after, the other servants that were present in the room left, and a tension descended on the table. Yet Ciel didn't let his mask fall as he started eating his meal, along with Vincent and Rachel.

The silence was unbearable. Vincent tried to think of a way to approach the subject, but the wall his son had put between them was thick with no discernible weak spots. Rachel and Vincent had no useful cards, and Ciel knew that, yet they all kept their poker faces. It was obvious the boy and the butler knew who they were and, by now, knew they were informed of some of the events of the last three years, yet they continued to play the role of Welcoming Earl and Loyal Butler. They were trying to show control, Vincent had realized. His son showing him that this was his manor, his name and his title. He was challenging Vincent to try and break the wall while still maintaining his cool, proving himself to be worthy of the Phantomhive name. But the truth was, Vincent didn't know how. Yes, he had decades more experience than his son, and in a fair game, one in which he had been properly prepared for, he would be able to show why the name Vincent Phantomhive emitted pure fear on those who lived in the Underworld of England... but his son was obviously not one to play fair, and he had an ace up his sleeve... Vincent needed more time, more preparation, and the boy was taking full of advantage of that.

How ironic, Vincent thought. He never, in all his years, imagined he would have such a competition with his own child.

But Rachel had had enough. With the only noise in the room the clinking of silverware against china, and the feel of those demonic red eyes upon her, she couldn't take it any more, and just cracked.

"ENOUGH!" she yelled, surprising her husband but earning a victorious smirk from her child, "I've had enough! How long do we need to continued this ridiculous game?" She turned towards her son, who had not even moved, "Ciel..." her eyes softened, "What happened?"

"I thought Tanaka had made everything perfectly clear," he said, putting down his knife and fork. He turned his full attention to his guests, his smile dropping. Now, Vincent could see, he had stopped being Earl Phantomhive, and started to behave like the Queen's watchdog.

"Clear? Hardly," Rachel scoffed, "Given that he said he couldn't even answer most of our questions, nothing has been made clear at all."

Vincent gave her knee a warning squeeze.

"Not that he couldn't answer. More like, he wasn't permitted?" Vincent asked, looking at Rachel but directing the question at Ciel. Just the fact that Tanaka had needed the towels as an excuse to come to their room made Vincent think that perhaps he'd been given an order to keep silent. Their friendship had bought a few words, but Tanaka hadn't been able to give any concrete answers on the matter of Ciel.

Ciel didn't deny Vincent's accusation, giving a little shrug of the shoulders.

"I'd prefer any questions to be directed towards me rather than my staff. Now, how about we make a little deal?" Here, Ciel smiled, and it wasn't quite as plastic as before. However, there was again that glint in his eye that made Vincent feel like he was missing the punchline, "I have some questions of my own. You answer mine, I answer yours."

"That sounds fair. You may go first," Vincent offered, inclining his head. In his own shock, it hadn't really registered how shocked Ciel must have been. They were supposed to be dead. Now they were turning up on Ciel's doorstep? Of course Ciel had questions. Vincent just feared that he did not have the answers.

Ciel nodded, thinking over what to ask. It was Rachel he stared at, silent for an uncomfortably long time, before finally asking, "What did you get me for my ninth birthday?"

Rachel almost smirked herself. That one was too easy.

"A pocket-watch. It's a tradition in my family for a son to get given a pocket-watch on his tenth birthday, but you were always playing with your Father's, so we got it a year early. It's silver, with the Phantomhive crest on it, and your name carved on the cover."

Rachel didn't look away from Ciel's intense gaze while she answered, not missing the flicker of surprise as she responded perfectly.

"...Correct," he didn't sound at all happy about the fact, "Your turn."

Vincent and Rachel looked to each other, both brimming with questions but suddenly scared of actually getting answers. Once they heard the answer, they wouldn't be able to unhear it. Eventually, Vincent decided on a relatively safe option.

"What happened to your eye?" he asked softly, looking at the black patch with concern.

Ciel looked down, a hand coming to rest on the patch seemingly unconsciously, "An accident... Well, not an accident. A man, he had a knife and... It got infected, had to be removed." He raised his head, expression uncomfortable as he looked from the stricken Rachel to the frowning Vincent, "What was my pets name?"

Vincent answered this time, "Sebastian, our dog –" Ciel looked smug, but then Vincent continued with a small smile, "And of course there was Rumbleroar, your and Elizabeth's imaginary... lion, if I remember correctly?"

The smug look disappeared as quickly as it came, a light blush dusting Ciel's cheeks as he quickly glanced over his shoulder at the butler. The butler had his back turned to them, tending to the next course on the tray, but his shoulders shook lightly, only brightening Ciel's blush.

Ciel cleared his throat embarrassedly, "Your question?"

"Tanaka said that... that on the night of the fire, you were taken away. What happened?"

All traces of the blush were gone now, Ciel straightening in his chair and looking plainly uncomfortable. He didn't meet their eyes as he answered, each word as hesitant as the last.

"The fire, to kill you, it... it was so that they could take the business. This wasn't to do with the Underworld. They wanted Funtom. I think they were planning to kill me too. At least, they always said they would, but none of them wanted to get their hands dirty with just a kid, I suppose," he chuckled darkly, eye clouding over as he spoke, "I think what they were really doing was waiting to see if anyone else would come forward to claim the company, seeing as I was the sole heir. When no-one did... I knew then that they were going to kill me. That was when Sebastian came."

Hearing his name, the butler came forward with the tray, busying himself with taking away their old dishes and replacing them with the new ones. He briefly met Ciel's eye, and Rachel was shocked by the softness there. Those red eyes had seemed so sinister before, but as they looked at her son, sinister wasn't a word she could describe them as.

"I'm ashamed to say that I was involved with those scum," Sebastian confessed, and he certainly did sound ashamed, "I had no part in the fire, but I did nothing to stop it. I always felt they would take things too far but I didn't realise just how far until I saw they'd abducted a child. It was then I knew I had to do something, clear my hands of such... I hesitate to say people."

"One of the men had grown impatient waiting for the seizure of the company," Ciel continued, taciturn, "He took it upon himself to get rid of me to speed things along. He had a knife, and... h-he said I had nice eyes, t-that he wanted to keep one –"

Sebastian abandoned the trolley to rest a hand on the increasingly distressed Ciel's shoulder, "I arrived in time to stop him, unfortunately not before some damage had been done. But I got the Young Master away from there before any more harm could be done to him."

Ciel had regained his composure by this point, giving his butler a nod. Sebastian nodded back and returned to his work, pushing the trolley away from the table.

Rachel looked at her son with sad eyes. The urge grew stronger, and this time she wasn't able to stop herself. She stood up and walked towards Ciel, ready to hug him. Vincent was sure the child would welcome the embrace, he looked vulnerable, in need. Certainly the comfort of his mother, no matter how long overdue, would appease the thirteen year old Earl.

But again Ciel showed himself to be the master of surprises. He raised his hand, in a motion to stop Rachel, and looked at her with a cold, emotionless eye. That stare... That look, that was enough to break the Phantomhive couple. It held no love, no emotion... Nothing. It was clear Ciel did not like to show weakness or be pitied. He did not like to be comforted. It made him feel weak, Vincent realized. After such a brutal experience, Ciel must have learned the hard way that your best defense was to not show your weakness. At this moment, with two people who somehow rose from the dead, the boy would not let himself be vulnerable. Even if those two people were his own parents.

A glance at the butler, and Vincent thought he caught a faint smirk, a satisfied glint in those red eyes. It was only natural that Ciel would only feel comfortable showing his true emotions in front of the criminal turned butler... Yet, as his father, Vincent couldn't help but feel jealous of the trust Ciel had in the strange man.

"It is my turn," he said, looking at her for a second longer, ignoring her broken expression, and turned towards Vincent, "You have to excuse my inquires and understand my motives. People don't simply come back from the dead. At least, not after three years and certainly never in such pristine condition."

"Ciel..." Rachel murmured, still not moving.

"It does, however, seem like you are genuine." He ignored the butler's smug look. He should have known better than to doubt him, after all, Sebastian never lied, "I am still confused as to how this whole ordeal happened though. What do you remember?"

"Nothing of substance," Vincent answered, "We woke up in our... coffins, at the Undertaker's place." He saw a spark of recognition in Ciel's eye. So apparently the man still served as the Phantomhive's informant. "He said if we wanted answers we should go back home. Now... I see why."

"So you don't know what happened to you?" He glanced at Rachel, probably hoping the woman would let something slip, in case Vincent was hiding anything from him.

"No."

The young boy sighed, gaze dropping to his plate. He was deep in thought, and Rachel was not sure if she should interrupt it for another question or just let him think.

"I guess it can't be helped then," Ciel said, more to himself than the others. He stood up, and suddenly his plastic smile was back in place, "You'll have to forgive me for leaving so abruptly, but I'm afraid I still have work to do and I find I've lost my appetite," he turned towards the butler, "Sebastian?"

"Yes, Young Master?" the butler asked.

"Once they are done with dinner make sure to attend to all their needs, then accompany them back to their room. Afterwards, come see me in my room before retiring to your quarters."

"Of course," the butler replied.

Vincent and Rachel just stood and watched as their son walked towards the stairs without a single backwards glance. When they could see his profile, both of them noticed the melancholic air that surrounded Ciel. The story... Kidnapped, having his eye gouged out... It was too much pain for a child to go through. And now, besides that horrible suffering, he still had the weight of the Phantomhive name and the Underworld on his shoulders. Vincent knew from personal experience how horrible and tiring those things could be. It was too much pressure to give to a small child who had lost everything. Ciel most likely had built a wall around his heart, hoping for protection. It most likely fooled everyone who he came in contact with. But it was not enough to fool his parents. He may have wanted to appear strong while telling them his story, but Vincent and Rachel could see the pure pain blaze in his blue eye. Ciel was hurting. Ciel needed them.

They would be sure to never fail their son again.

۞

"Well, that turned out entirely useless," Ciel huffed, slouching behind his desk, "If they have no idea how they came back to life, if that's what has really happened here, then we've got no leads."

"Not entirely true, Young Master," Sebastian corrected, frowning disapprovingly as the boy rested a foot on his desk, "If nothing else, at least we have convenient specimens at our disposal."

Ciel realised a second too late that he'd frowned at Sebastian's choice of words and quickly cleared his face, but not before the demon had already seen.

He didn't want Sebastian to get the wrong idea. Ciel was not soft, was not going soft either. He wasn't about to let himself fall to pieces just because some shadows of the past were crawling back into his life. His parents were dead. Just as dead as the son they'd once had. The person he was now was not their little Ciel, who had gotten grubby fingerprints all over his Father's pocketwatch, who had adopted an imaginary lion with Lizzie. That month, with those people, had destroyed that person as surely as the fire had destroyed the Phantomhives. And whatever dregs had remained, the smallest figments of humanity in him, he had himself erased when he'd pulled the trigger on Baron Kelvin and burned a dozen perfectly innocent children to death.

He had not let himself buckle then. He was not going to let himself buckle now.

"After this interesting conversation, are the plans still the same, Young Master?" asked Sebastian.

"Yes. Make the arrangements for tomorrow. We're going to be staying at the townhouse for a while, until we've gotten to the bottom of this situation," Ciel sighed, "It's been a while since we last stayed there. Here's hoping the moron hasn't decimated the place."

Ciel didn't have to look at Sebastian to know he was giving his trademark smirk, "Right away, Young Master. And... your parents?"

"...Bring them with us. Like you said, convenient specimens. We'll be able to monitor them rather than making rounds to all the families reported to have their dead back amongst them."

Sebastian gave his usual response and left the room to prepare for the next day, leaving Ciel alone with his unease. When the butler left, Ciel turned towards the window, thoughtful. He was not naive. His parents... No, two people had come back from the dead just a few hours short of the Queen giving him a new mission. There was no doubt in the Young Earl's mind that the two events were somehow related.