Chapter 11: Sebastian POV

The train ride was thankfully uneventful. I had reluctantly left the Mistress, servants, the Tutor and the young Master, at the Manor. My Master was staring out the window as we headed back to the Manor. He was in deep thought and I could see that the way he held his head in his hand, the pensive look in his eye, I was not welcome to knowing them. So I sat back and delved into my own thoughts.

I'm a rather simple creature, I admit. Demons function on wanting Souls, taking them before the Reapers came and snatched the Cinematic Records. Forming Contracts were the best way to ensure that we got a Soul, however, the quality of the Soul sometimes would be lacking. But desperate times…. I smiled. When the Master unknowingly summoned me, his desperate cry was delicious in my time of need. I was greedy, taking the best part I could, since he wanted our Contract to be strong. I laughed when he said 'strong' - his weak body was thin and gaunt, nothing about him conveyed strength. Until I looked into the eye I was not Marking. He waited a while before succumbing to the pain. There was the strength that the boy, so little, so small, so desperate, and I took it as I licked my fingers, the blood flowing between my fingers, sweet and succulent.

"Are you daydreaming?"

I looked at him, now coming back to the present. "I suppose you could say I was, my Lord. I was remembering."

He pursed his lips and gave a curt nod. "How many more stops?"

"Three more, my Lord."

"Very good."

And the silence once more descended into the small area. I looked over the Master and replayed how he had turned from the small child in a cage, to the man who sat before me. He had been obsolete, scared, and had taunted me. I had to overcome my initial need and misjudgement on how quickly the boy would allow me to take him. I pursed my lips as I stared ahead. It wasn't too dissimilar to how the young Master was conducting himself. However, the Master never wrecked things on purpose without provocation. The young Master did indeed to have sudden outbursts that had no connection to any previous trauma or experiences. I frowned; perhaps the Tutor was astute in his observations and inquiries to figure out not only what the young Phantomhive knew in a scholarly sense, but also in a more emotional sense.

"Oh dear," I whispered. The Master's head quickly swiveled in my direction. "I was just thinking back to something the Tutor was saying before we left. Young Master's behavior does seem to be a bit extreme for one so young, and, pardon me for saying, but without a traumatizing reason to do so."

He looked over me and shifted in his seat. "I have thought about that. But why the exclamation?"

"Perhaps there is another explanation. Something I am amazed I would not have detected."

"Are you saying..." His eyes went round and he leaned into my space. "Are you saying my son is possessed? A Demon is already invading him without consent?"

I tilted my head. "It is possible he has not been possessed to the same extent as you may have read in fictional books, or even our own bond, my Lord, but rather a very, very, low Demon has placed a Marking on him."

"For god's sake, Sebastian!"

"Yes, I do see how this is my oversight," I bowed my head and frowned. "I am not sure how to test the theory."

"Really? No idea at all?"

"Well, there is one."

He sat back and looked at me, shaking his head. "Deceptions will not be tolerated Sebastian."

"I'm not deceiving you, rather avoiding telling you what I could do."

"It would hurt Vincent," he said at last, looking away.

"Badly," I said softly. "Despite what I am, I do not wish to harm him. It would hurt you deeply and I wish not to do that."

"Thank you," he said a few minutes later as the train pulled into our station. "If there is another way, please, look for it. I pray you are wrong. I pray Vincent is simply acting out and will settle down once he is home for longer. It's only been a few weeks since he was sent to us. Perhaps the Tutor will have made some strives to better his attitude and behaviour."

"Yes, let's hope so," I agreed.

We walked to the automobile and placed all our bags in the back. My Master sat down and paused as I closed the door. "Sebastian. If in the end, you must do what you think is best, please, send me and Lizzie far away."

I looked at him and saw already the terror of the pain that could come in his eyes. "Yes, my Lord." I closed the door and got behind the wheel, starting the engine.

Our Contract tethered me to my Master, and he to me, letting other Demons, and I suspected even Reapers, see that we were a team. I felt pain, when I was hurt in battle, but not the same extent as Human, emotional pain. As I had studied Humans, I have developed a sense of empathy, but still that was not the same as feeling the pain I saw in my Master's eyes when the Mistress told him, once more, they were not expecting a child. But did he feel the pain I inflicted on others? I shook my head a bit; no, otherwise he would have much more hesitation before giving me orders to "take care of them" - knowing full well it could mean the near death of a Human. In those moments, sometimes I longed to dig my claws in and scoop out the tattered remains of a Soul, but would smile instead and walk away as the Human, so sure it was going to perish, lingered in their state. It made it easier to take one or two from the Reapers when I wasn't going out of my way to take them before they were due.

"It is good to be home," my Master sighed as he stepped out of the automobile. I smiled. Yes, home. The Phantomhive Manor was my home of sorts. It housed me. It housed the ones I had gathered. It housed my Soul. It housed my dreams for more Souls.

As we walked through the entry, I accepted the discarded coat and hat, the bags and the cane, letting my Master greet his wife, with the carefree kiss and smile he had earned. We had worked hard while at the King's residence in Scotland. Several members of a Norwegian cartel were limping home, with stern warnings not to come again. I hung the items up in the closet and turned to see the Maid come up from the Kitchens, a paper in her hand and her unseeing gaze pointed in my direction.

"Mister Sebastian," she whispered, but not really very effectively. "I went into town while you and the Master were in Scotland. I learned about a group wishing to attack us."

I flipped the paper up and eyed the note. "Very good, Mey-Rin. Do advise everyone that we will have a hearty winter meal in the dining room. I will prepare the meal so we can defend the Manor and not disturb them."

A smile came over her face, and I imagined her brown eyes were dancing with excitement. We had not had a decent attack in a while. I chuckled; Baldroy would most likely be taking out and polishing his guns and flame-thrower. "Oh dear," I said at the thought of the Tutor finding us preparing. He may not be Human, but he was as innocent as my Mistress in what went on behind closed doors at the Manor.

"Where is the Tutor?"

"Mr. Hyde is with Vincent in the gardens, over in the conservatory I heard," Mey-Rin said. I thanked her and walked off to the side doors, and sucked in the cooler air and made my way across the gardens. Finnian was trimming a few hedges as I passed, and he called out after me, I merely continued. By now all three of the members would know that there was an attack planned, and we would thawt it, as we had each previous attempt.

I opened the conservatory door and the mild temperature difference prickled my skin. Sitting among the palm pants was the Tutor and the young Master. The young Master was painstakingly drawing a picture of the cotton plant before them, the Tutor standing behind him, looking over the drawing and pointing out how he needed to label the items.

"In Latin please. The original order, if you will."

"I don't remember," the young Master whined.

"We went over them with Mister Finnian yesterday. He was able to tell you the plant parts and the varieties," the Tutor said, shifting slightly. "So, recall that please." He looked up and saw me. He turned, crisply on his heels and walked towards me. "I trust the Earl was successful in his trip."

"Quite," I replied. "I came out to tell you that we will be preparing a special winter dinner. It will include some delights from our travel, and also the creation of indoor snow."

The Tutor looked appropriately impressed. "Well, that sounds lovely. We have about two more hours of work, and then we will be back in the Manor to finish."

"Very good," I said. I turned and proceeded back to the kitchen, barking out orders to Baldroy and Mey-Rin. I went back out to find Finnian and gave him my request.

"Tonight?" he repeated and looked around. "I'll be ready, Mister Sebastian."

I nodded. "As we all are. As Phantomhive Servants, we are always ready."

Once more I was in the kitchen, preparing the meal. Baldroy was peeling carrots and Mey-Rin was mashing the potatoes, and I was seasoning the meat to put into the oven when I heard a child sobbing. I looked around and noticed the other two were busy making bread and talking about the upcoming Winter Ball that apparently the Mistress had decided to throw in a week. She must have decided to do that while the Master and I were gone. It wasn't the first time we came back and discovered something exotic had happened to the one of the rooms of the Manor, or that the Mistress was planning a party. The cry came piercing again.

"Excuse me. I should bring tea to the Master," I said, and picked up the empty silver tray and walked out with it full of tea and a slice of cake. I walked up the stairs and a new sound hit my ears - the distinct sound of two fencing sabers clashing. Surely the Master was not taking up the sport suddenly after a long journey?

But I did not find the Master and the Mistress fighting, nor was it simply a playful round as they sometimes ventured into. It was the Mistress, and the Tutor. The Mistress held her saber with all the years of training flowing back. I could see her face was a combination of concentration and anger. I never knew the Mistress to wield her saber while angry. Well, not in recent memory. The first time I saw her wield the fine tipped sword was many, many years previous, when my Master was hurt, and she became the protector. Now, I saw the same protection came out as she lunged at the Tutor and yelled at him.

"My child did not have to bleed!"

"Your child should know how to identify the plant parts so he can move onto more advanced identification."

"And how can this help him?"

The Tutor defended a blow aimed at his shoulder with a flick of his wrist, almost knocking the saber out of the Mistress' hand. "You want him disciplined, yes? Disciplined is not just that he can sit still and be polite when company comes. Discipline takes up the mind," he defended another blow, "body, and soul." He narrowed his eyes as he shoved his glasses up a bit more. "He had to pick cotton to understand the parts of the plants better." He twirled as the Mistress growled and stepped closer, landing blows in the air, easily deflected. "Discipline the mind to remember the simple things that we learned yesterday."

"I conceded to letting you discipline my child, but making his hand bleed, making him cry - that is beyond discipline," she once more lunged at the Tutor. "That is cruel."

"When I made a mistake, my parents did not let it go. I had to practice until I learned it. I understood I had to know a variety of things at a moment's notice." The Tutor made another spectacular dodge and stepped under the advancing saber and snatches it from my Mistress. "That discipline of not giving up helped me. It kept me alive in my darkest of days," he said, dropping his voice lower as he looked at my Mistress. "It is obvious that you and your family also know what it means to survive. Your son needs to learn this. It's not that I don't have feelings of adoration for your child, but because when he is in the world, not many will bow before him simply because he is a Phantomhive, but because he is also smart and knows how to wield that power." He stepped back and handed the saber back. He smiled as he added, "Much like his mother who could have landed any number of cuts on me if her child was not standing and watching us."

I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows. No matter what the man was, he was a wonderful thinker and was able to disarm an angry mother. I found myself admiring him even.

"Well, now I know for certain when it is time, Lizzie will be more than capable taking even you on," my Master now whispered beside me.

I looked to my left, completely forgetting his presence had pricked up my back as I watched the fencing match before me. "A woman such as the Mistress will never have a problem defending her household." I looked back at the entry hall, that had turned into a impromptu yelling match and matching of skills. The Mistress was now gathering the young Master in her arms and was gently looking at his bloody hands. I looked back at the Tutor. He passively stood, the saber that he handed to the Mistress, showing her he was finished, now was in back in his hand. The sabers in each hand made twin thin lines, pointing to the floor. He looked like he was also trying to focus on calming down as he slowly looked down and at his hands. I walked to him and gently took the seber out of his left hand.

He looked up, startled and then slowly let go.

"Please, let me put these safely back where they go."

He nodded and let me take the right one as well. There was an energy about the Tutor and I hazard a glance into his eyes. The usually calm green pools were a bit wild, as if he was reliving something horrific.

"Did you finished your studies?" I heard the Master ask. I turned and saw he was gently prying the Mistress's arms from the young Master, and turned so the young Phantomhive could look at his father. "Vincent? Did you and Mr. Hyde finish your lesson before you came screaming in here?"

"Yes, yes we are done," the Tutor said, his voice gaining more confidence. He turned to me for a moment and then faced the Master. "I think we are done for the day, Vincent."

The Tutor turned and walked up the stairs, leaving us to move back to make sure the young Master was well.