I want to thank all of you for the reviews and constant favorites and follows of this piece. Honestly you guys are great. I decided to not make you wait. My Beta hasn't touched this yet so there will be errors, however, I didn't think you guys could hold out any longer. Truth be told, I couldn't either.

Chapter 28: Knife 2: Blood Red Raspberries Part II

There was silence in the room as Francis looked at Angela, it had been several days since she had dragged him into her office. As always she was dressed in a tightly fitted white bodice, she had a plum blazer on and black dress slacks. "Tell me everything," she commanded as she looked into the eyes of a very nervous Francis. The priest swallowed harshly as he looked into a pair of menacing purple eyes, the eyes of something that a person would misinterpreted as a demon. She moved smoothly as she crossed her legs, her eyes settled on him, a predatorily glint in her eyes told him there was nowhere to run. "I don't know where to start," he muttered slowly as he felt the rope bite his wrists, slowly gnawing past the flesh and into the bone to tie down not only his body but soul as well. She chuckled, the sound made his skin crawl, part of him wondered if the dark had always looked so beautiful. "The beginning would be nice," she sneered.

"I want to know one thing," said Francis hesitantly, causing her eyebrows to lift curiously, "If I tell you, just what will happen to my pet?" A smile curved Angela's lips, clearly she had thought about this, then again he was making a deal with the devil. "Simple, I will rip him from Phantomhive and auction him as planned. I've already started to undermine Vincent and will soon enough tear his establishment to the ground," she mused, there was a hint of joy in her acidic words. She could speak of destroying a life so easily that in many ways it frightened him. Yet the ability to repossess Sebastian sang louder than all of the women's plans. "Alright, it started when he was a child. He was so beautifully innocent I just had to have him," he stated simply. A smile curled Angela's lips, he could feel the thugs behind him shift and he knew it was going to be a very long night, of which he could only pray that he would survive till day break. "Let's get one thing straight Francis, you fell long ago, so continue into the darkness with me," she stated as she tucked a strand of stray white hair behind her own ear.

The priest stared at the woman as she leaned over, her fingertips stretched out to him, a wicked grin had curved her lips, he could smell her perfume and felt a tingle of fear run through him. He stared at the soft and long slender digits that stood out in the dark office, her fingers were a breath away, he stiffened reflexively, he had heard what those hands were capable of. He closed his eyes instinctively as she slowly caressed his cheek, her touch was soft yet cold, it was as though she had pressed an ice cube to his face, "Look at me," she commanded. Francis' eyes flickered open, she smiled and replied, "You will fall with me, even deeper into hell. There is no light for people like us," she commented as she trailed a long sharp nail across his cheek, he could feel it leaving a long and slender mark in it's wake.

"I don't usually add another piece so late in the game, however a certain V. P. has blocked my Queen and I really want to use her," she commented as she glanced at the chess board standing near the wall. Francis glanced over to see the remants of marble where other pieces must have been, one pawn had made it to the other side. He watched as one of her goons slowly swapped it for a Bishop. His eyes followed the pawn as it shattered, she forced him to look at her once again. "I can't take London with him in the way, I have France but now I desire Hong Kong," she commented. Francis was more than confused by the woman, he honestly didn't understand what Sebastian had to do with it. "Michaelis?" he asked. He watched the woman pull back, her icy touch receded with his hand, he honestly felt the chill run down to what had remained of his black soul.

"The one piece Vincent didn't count on," she replied as she gazed at him, it made him feel as though the woman held him under a microscope evaluating his every action and dissecting every muscle. "You see, Michaelis will do what Ash never could," she commented, Francis paused, Ash Landers and this woman were related, he stared at her, his lips parted as he attempted to understand just what she was after. "I will obliderate him in order to obtain what is mine. Ash was useful for a time, as he took hold of a certain Chef's heart but I didn't think he would be so stupid," she hissed. The incident with Ash Landers had been heard through Europe. "I don't understand," he commented. Angela sighed and chuckled, "You see, and you never will," her lips curled again, "Now tell me, what will make the little Patissier squirm."

~~xXx~~

There was stillness in the room, the only movement in the room was the rise and fall of Sebastian's chest, the steady blip of the heart monitor and the sound of a silky smooth voice. It was melodic and gentle on the ears, like silk as it curled through the air. Just outside the doors there was a pair of nurses who sat quietly with their eyes closed, listening to the very sound of the speaker's voice as his tongue caressed each syllable with ease. The room was a stark white, and it had been long since day, well into the night. Vincent, Ash and the judges agreed to hold the competition until both were healthy. Sebastian had lost a great deal of blood and at one point had gone into shock, little did they knew what had actually happened to him. Only a doctor and a certain chef knew. Sebastian was laid in bed, his eyes closed and he looked extremely pail. Yet somehow peaceful, he had been given powerful pain medication just so he could sleep. Sitting across from him with legs crossed and a book resting on his lap was a golden eyed Claude. His fingers rested on the edges with a black tasseled bookmark between them, which contrasted the bright orange cover.

"And then the source of the light stepped out from behind an oak. It was a silver-white doe, moon-bright and dazzling, picking her way over the ground, silent," Claude began and paused, "and leaving no hoofprints in the fine powdering of snow." His voice seemed to echo through the ward as he read, his tongue caressing each word gently. It sounded as though he had read the section a thousand times, and yet this was his very first. "She stepped toward him, her beautiful head with it's wide, long-lashed eyes held high. Harry stared at the creature, filled with wonder, not at her strangeness, but her inexplicable familiarity. He felt that he had been waiting for her to come, but had forgotten, until this moment, that they had arranged to meet,"* he continued. Before he even realized it he had become the attraction of the ward as he simply sat with his legs crossed and read.

He took a breath and was about to continue on when he heard a light tap on the door. His eyes jumped from the book to the threshold, standing in her typical bright red suit, was Madame Red. "How is he?" she asked after a moment. Claude slowly tucked his book mark back in the book and closed it gently, he had managed to get to chapter nineteen, he was honestly enjoying it. "Sleeping," replied Claude his eyes fell on a very pale Patissier, "Soundly, it looks like he's finally calm in his dreams." Madame red walked into the room, her red pumps clicked against the sterile white floor, shattering the beautiful Forest of Dean that Claude had managed to craft with the aid of Rowling. "So the morphine kicked in?" she asked slowly as she looked at the monitors, her red eyes never seemed to leave their screens. Claude nodded slowly, his hands resting on the hardcover of the book, he could remember the frenzy which had occurred as he Sebastian was rushed to the hospital. Claude closed his eyes, he couldn't block it out. He just couldn't seem to push it away.

Claude's eyes widened as Sebastian went limp in his arms, "CUT!" screamed Joker as he dashed onto the set, Landers had stopped everything he was doing and stood there staring in shock. Clearly no one anticipated this, Claude could remember Vincent's harsh command to the competitor to pull the two torte bases. The smell of chocolate filled the room, as well as the metallic scent of blood. A pair of ENTs had arrived with a yellow stretcher at their side. The Head chef allowed them to take the limp feverish Sebastian out of his arms and place him on the board.

"Shit, he's got a fever and is going into shock," shouted an ENT as he took Sebastian's weak pulse, "Keep his arm in line with his heart," barked the other young man as they attempted to stop the bleeding. One of them frantically looked up and asked, "The knife, what was on it?" Claude heart was pounding, he couldn't believe what was happening, he always though Sebastian would find another, he never imagined loosing him in death. "Sir!" pleaded one of them, snapping Claude out of his stopper. "Chocolate, nothing else," he replied quickly. The pair of men nodded as they got him stable enough to move. Claude could hear nothing else as he ran down the hallway after them, his heart pounding in his ears as his legs went numb from the adrenalin which was coursing through his body. Nothing else mattered, somewhere he could hear Ciel barking something at him, only for Claude to ignore it and continue down the hall. "I'm tailing," he shouted to the men in the ambulance as he leapt into the driver's seat of his Jaguar. The press was going crazy as they stared at Sebastian and a frantic Claude racing after the ambulance, he had never seen reporters leap out of his way so fast in his life.

The drive to the hospital seemed longer than he ever imagined, "Please, please, be alright," he muttered over and over, a mantra in hopes that there would be some hope left. Perhaps god would grant him something in the way of a miracle. The ambulance made it to the ER, Claude hunted for a parking spot and before he even realized it, he was running into the hospital searching for anyone who could tell him something. Anything on the Patissier who had saved him from hell and offered him just a little hope. The wait had been brutal, Claude paced most of it, his shoes clicking against the floor, the tie he had selected to wear was long gone, and his sleeves were rolled up. His black blazer was lazily placed on the vinyl and plastic chairs of the waiting room. Again he had to catch Sebastian as he were falling, "For once in my life, why can't I prevent him from falling?" he asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Easy, he's never had help before so he doesn't know how to ask for it," replied a deep voice simply. The Head Chef paused and looked at the figure who had just appeared, standing clad in a pair of dark slacks and a pale blue shirt with an open collar was the last person he expected to see. Staring back at him was a pair of deep emerald green eyes; he had a large roman looking nose and high cheekbones that looked as though they had been chiseled of marble. "Hugo," said Claude slowly. Hugo hummed as he swept a hand through his black hair in an attempt to tame it. "I thought you would like to know what the judges have decided," he commented as he walked across the room and took a seat in the chair across from Claude. He relaxed slightly and closed his eyes, obviously the day had been far longer than Claude realize. "After a long discussion with Landers, his people, Vincent and Ciel," he began, "we determined it wouldn't be fair to hold Sebastian's incident against him, he's a talented chef and shouldn't be treated poorly because he sliced his hand open, it could happen to anyone."

Claude paused, it wasn't until now that he honestly registered what the man was saying, someone must have over ridden Landers, there was no way Ash would have agreed to those terms. "However it also isn't fair for the chefs to have such a great deal of time to craft a dish using the ingredient, so a fourth box will be introduced from which I will select the next knife," Hugo stated. There was silence, "Will Raspberries be returned to the box?" he asked slowly. Hugo shrugged, which was perhaps the strangest gesture the chef had yet to make. "To be honest, I don't know, no one does," he replied simply. Hugo was always known for being brutally blunt when he had to be, clearly now wasn't an exception. "I see, any idea what he was planning to make?" asked Claude curiously.

Hugo smiled a little, "To be honest I didn't recognize the filling, I think the base is a torte of some kind, dark chocolate too, but it seems far too sweet with a raspberry filling," he remarked. Claude sighed, naturally Sebastian had once again created a twist that alluded even the famous Hugo. He was about to say something else when the door of the ER opened and a doctor in green scrubs walked out. He looked relieved and as though he had finally caught his breath. "Mister Faustus?" he asked curiously as he looked at the pair of men. Claude nodded without hesitation and Hugo turned his attention to the doctor. "He's stable, we managed to get the bleeding to stop, his hand will be tender for a week, it's not as deep as we anticipated," he stated. A wave of relief rushed over Claude as he exhaled and closed his eyes. "May I see him?" he asked cautiously. The surgeon was taken aback, "He doesn't have family," Claude explained. The man sighed and nodded.

"Claude?" called the familiar voice of Madame Red, he felt her hand on his shoulder. He was snapped back to the present and flinched slightly as he blinked away the memory. "Sorry, I didn't hear you," he commented as he caressed the edge of the book with his fingers. She hummed and looked at Sebastian, "He's enigmatic, one minute just when you think you know everything about him, he alludes you once again," she commented sadly. Claude sighed, he knew the feeling far too well, Sebastian always surprised him, yet there was one thing he could die for just one, to see him happy. "Claude, do you remember what had happened the last time he saw me?" she asked hesitantly. The Head Chef's golden eyes narrowed, he didn't like this topic, it meant she was going to bring up more pain in the man's life. "What?" he asked slowly.

Madame Red hung her head and whispered, "The fever wasn't caused by the cut, actually he had it long before the fact, he's littered with bruises and his wrists are practically raw." Claude's eyes widened, again he was in this position, anger coiled in his limbs as he attempted to restrain the angry mysterious that sought revenge. "Who," he hissed, demanding a reply, only for Madame Red to sigh. She looked upset as she slipped her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, "That's the thing, he washed the evidence away, Claude I don't think this is," she trailed off when she felt her mobile buzz. She huffed as her fingers fished it out of her pocket, "It's Flynn, he's in the ER with a troublesome patient and requesting my assistance," she stated before turning to leave. Claude was irritated but reluctantly allowed her to leave, she was a doctor after all, running last minute was her specialty. "Faustus, I know this is hard, go home and get some sleep, you honestly look like shit," she commented. Claude was about to retort when she vanished before him. "Meddlesome as always," he commented.

His golden eyes fell on Sebastian as his chest constricted, "Please, let me save you, let me protect you, just please," he begged as he slowly grasped one of the raven's talented hands, "don't try and do it all on your own."

~~xXx~~

Vincent was sitting at his desk and sighed, sitting on it was a thick white card with violet ink. His hands were still trembling with rage, he was being toyed with and the events in the kitchen today would cost him. His chocolate brown eyes closed for a moment as he attempted to calm himself, Mei Rin had only just delivered the note, and yet he felt like killing the sender. Everything was slowly falling on top of each other, Sebastian may not be able to survive Ash, Ciel was after something a significant sum was missing from his private account, more slaves were coming in and Angela was growing bolder, Rachel's cancer. He paused and drew a shaky breath, he had gotten the results of the biopsy and the chill which came with fear flooded him. He could fend off traders of the black market, assassins and even the most devious of associates, but cancer wasn't something he could beat. Not when it was this bad.

Rachel and Ciel were everything to him, he would do anything to keep them safe, anything. Yet Ciel was working to undermine him, and was clearly up to something, Lizzy wouldn't have tried to call him if he wasn't. Elizabeth hardly contacted him unless it was detrimental, unfortunately he had been in the doctor's office with his wife during her call and decided he needed to be there for her. He could still feel her hand in his, frail, small and dainty, they weren't the hands of the powerful woman he married, they were the hands of a tired warrior who knew the end was near. He could remember the look on her face, they had taken her breasts and done implants, yet the cancer was still apparent and now spreading like wildfire. In truth they had no idea how they missed a piece or why it was proceeding to spread at an alarming rate. That moment he heard the doctor say he was sorry, his heart shattered. Rachel looked so broken as she was told how severe it was, the cancer was now eating away her bones, it was in her marrow, the chances of her surviving were astronomical. They knew it.

As the doctor explained in a detached voice he felt his wife grip his hand tightly, afraid that he would vanish, leave her vulnerable. He sighed and leaned his head against the window, "To think my greatest adversary wouldn't be Ms. Blanc but a mutant cell that would tear my heart out," he whispered in agony as he grit his teeth. She was so pale in the office, it looked as though the Grimm had visited her early and was waiting on her shoulder, scythe in hand, ready to collect the ultimate debt. The only words which left her mouth were, "Please don't tell Ciel." Four words which changed it all, his son had no idea the hell he went through to keep it all together while everyone was trying to rip his life to shreds, his son the boy he almost didn't have, would never know his mother's fears or secrets. Vincent tilted his head back as he felt the walls he had so carefully built collapse on top of him, allowing every emotion to cross his usually detached expression. His face twisted with grief as a tear rolled down his cheek and chin, into the collar of his shirt, where it remained. "She has months left," he whispered in agony, "A year at most and I'm trapped in this glass cage."

Sitting on his desk was the not in violet ink, off to the side was a chess set made of glass and the piece which had once been a pawn was now replaced with a bishop. Anger ran through him, as it coalesced with grief, a heady cocktail of sins which he soon began to bear.

Time to promote my pawn to a Bishop, Vincent, are you watching?

The note read, in sickly precise hand. Angela was growing bolder and steps closer to capturing his king. He had to get her out of London, and yet with each attempt she only avoid him. He groaned with irritation, the woman was after something and how she was able to out maneuver him irritated him. Someone had to be giving her information, there was no way she could read all of his moves with such ease.

Then there was Sebastian, no matter what he did, somehow Sebastian was involved. It was as though everything started with Sebastian, Vincent froze and turned on his heel. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the note, "Bishop," he muttered and shook his head. There was no way that was a coincidence, "Sebastian," he paused. There had been a priest in the past, but she never alluded to Sebastian before, never actually, and yet he had a sinking feeling that this all started with the unfortunate events that when compiled together were called Sebastian's life. He pulled his mobile out of his pocket, "Let's see what my loyal Sheppard can find," he mused.

~~xXx~~

Alois sighed as he walked down the street, Claude had once again gone with Sebastian, he hummed, something was off with Ciel. "He's never looked that nervous before, not even when he proposed to Lizzy," he commented as he remembered his facial expression after proposing to the boisterous blonde. He hummed as he continued to walk down the street, he looked pale and almost as though he were going to jump out of his own skin. "Something's really not right," he commented as he continued to stroll through London toward his flat. A garble of voices assaulted his ears, as well as giggled making the bartender pause and back track, it wasn't far away. He continued walking backward until he noticed a pair of teens with markers drawing on a seemingly innocent man's face. He frowned and looked at them, "Oi, you lot! What the hell are you doing!" he shouted, perhaps now was the best time to step in, since one of them had a container of glue and intended to glue the man's hat to his noggin.

The teens paled and looked at him, they couldn't be older than fifteen and sixteen years old, he sighed and rubbed his temples. He may have gotten up to no good when he was drunk and desired to piss Ciel off, but not with a stranger in an alley which could easily be mistaken for assault, that was just dumb. He slowly approached the teens, "Come on, wake him up and apologize," he said as he pointed to the man that was sagging against the building. Alois couldn't tell precisely who it was, all he knew as that the figure was certainly male and unconscious. Whether or not he was intoxicated was another story entirely, well for now at least. It wasn't until now he realized that there were three of the scoundrels, they looked at him as though they were deer caught on the runway with a Boeing 747 looming above them, attempting to land. They looked at one another and grinned. Alois scratched his head in confusion and tilted his head to the side, they suddenly looked like mischievous pixies.

Two of them through the packet of sharpies at him and the other the thing of glue, "HEY!" shouted Alois as they sprinted by him. He should have known they were going to ditch, he sighed and was about to run after them when he heard a groan. Alois froze, all the color which had gathered in his face from yelling drained as he looked over his shoulder. The figure which had been leaning against the wall rose and rubbed his head, Alois' jaw dropped as he watched the powerful young man step out of the shadows and the pale light of a lamp above the back entrance of a bar. He had a pair of piercing gray eyes and silver hair, his shoulders were massive, his face looked as though it had been chiseled by Michelangelo, complete with sharp nose and rectangular jaw. "You!" he barked. Alois tensed instantly, "You little wanker! How dare you assault an officer!"

Alois was confused for a moment and shouted in return, "I didn't assault you, you dolt, I just save your sorry ass!" Those powerful forearms crossed his chest as he looked at Alois and responded, "Yeah?" Alois nodded and snarled, he didn't have time for this, "Yes you stupid wanker!" he shouted louder this time. The man smiled crookedly there was a hint of malice in his expression as he pointed to Alois' hands, "Then what is that?" Alois paused, it wasn't until now he remembered the teens had thrown the stuff at him, he had been caught, red handed and quite literally as the red sharpie bled on his hands. His azure eyes lifted from his hands to the officer's face, "This isn't what it looks like," he replied hastily.

The officer arched a brow and asked, "Really?" Alois sighed, there was no way he could talk his way out of this. "You're under arrest for assaulting the Chief Constable of Scotland Yard," the harsh voice commanded. Alois' eyes were the size of saucers as his jaw popped open. His luck was bad in the past but this was so bad, it wasn't even funny. "W-What?" he asked as he looked at his hands, he felt the cuffs weight them down and sighed. "Come on then, we don't have all night, the sooner we get you to the yard the better," he stated as he dragged Alois to his car. There was silence as he muttered, "For once I didn't do it and I'm still the one in cuffs."

~~xXx~~

The night had been long, it was a never ending string of injured young men and women, many of whom didn't speak English. She sighed, one case stuck out among them, a young girl who was about thirteen had been brought in. She was a small oriental, it was as though she hadn't been fed in months, she was honestly a skeleton wrapped in skin, which made her stomach twist. Madame Red had seen many horrendous things, but nothing that severe. The girl was covered in massive blue bruises and had several cuts, which had become septic. Abuse cases weren't rare, however cases in which patients received infections from poorly practiced medical techniques were. Despite the lashings on her back, it wasn't those which became septic, but the large cut down her thigh which had. Someone who wasn't very experienced had stitched he back up, but failed to clean the wound out properly, causing it to become septic.

The smell was still in the young woman's nose, it made her skin crawl. There was a band toward the middle of her back, a crest which disturbed her even more, she had been branded. No human being deserves to be treated like a barn animal, especially a young girl. Her heels continued to click down the hall, it was the most unusual case of the evening, and something to be honest she had never seen before. Madame Red stopped outside of her office door and quickly unlocked it, she sighed after finally crossing the threshold.

Sebastian had thrown her through a ringer, once again he had been raped, this was getting out of hand and she began to wonder just how many times in the past had the young Patissier been raped. There was evidence of previous abuse, however she hadn't noticed it before. She nearly told Claude until her phone went off alerting her to the unusual case which had been rushed in. There was a rustle of fabric as she slipped out of her lab coat and hung it neatly on a coat rack by the door. Her hair fell in red waves down her shoulders as she pulled the pins which held it in place. Now she had paperwork, which wasn't the best part of her job she had to admit. Madame Red slowly collapsed into her chair and was about to start when she heard the click of a lamp and was assaulted by the bright light of a lamp in the corner. "Good evening Ms. Durless," replied a smooth and deep voice. Sitting in the corner was none other than a certain loyal German Guard Dog, who belonged to her sister's husband.

She slowly straightened up, "Earl Von Wolfstadt," she replied smoothly as she looked at him. She had known the German for years, he only appeared when something was amiss, and she sincerely doubted it was simply about Sebastian. "Diedrich is fine," he said as he looked at her and crossed his legs. Her eyes narrowed he looked far too uncomfortable, usually she would shout about him breaking into her office and slipping past the nurses, but knowing Diedrich this wasn't difficult for him. "What do you want?" she asked slowly, she felt as though he had managed to corner her with his gaze, it was cold, steeled and nearly untouchable. Diedrich sighed as he pulled out a stack of photos and replied, "Information," before tossing them on the coffee table before him.

* Chapter 19 from the Deathly Hallows, the Silver Doe.