Ch. 12

About a week after Undertaker had died Ciel came to the parlor. He walked in nonchalantly. "Are you in, Undertaker?" Ciel called out. When his eyes adjusted he saw that the place was trashed. "What happened?

"I don't know young master, but I can't sense the Undertaker anywhere," Sebastian said.

"Sebastian, look around upstairs. I'll search down here." The butler nodded and darted up the stairs. Ciel walked towards the back rooms, carefully avoiding the broken glass. The first room was empty, with the exception of more broken objects. He crept to the other examination room, not quite expecting what he saw. Theresa, whom he had been starting to worry about, was laying on top of a body. Her white hair obscured enough of the person so Ciel couldn't identify him. "Sebastian, I've found something." His butler was at his side in an instant.

"Oh my," he said. "So that's where Theresa has been."

"Is she alive?"

"Yes, but I can't say the same for the person beneath her."

"Was Undertaker upstairs?"

"No."

"Well, let's get Theresa up and see if she knows where Undertaker is." Sebastian moved over to Theresa and started to shift her into an upright position. Suddenly Theresa's arm pushed Sebastian off of her. "How long have you been awake?" Ciel asked.

"Since you shouted for Sebastian. You really are loud." Theresa said flatly.

Slightly irked, Ciel continued the conversation. "We're looking for Undertaker. Have you seen him?" Theresa nodded and sat up, not bothering to look Ciel in the eye. "Well, where is he?" Theresa slowly moved her hair away from the body beneath her. Ciel gasped as he saw that the body was the Undertaker's. "What happened?"

"It's all my fault," Theresa said. She explained what had happened after the ball, and Ciel and Sebastian listened quietly.

"So this is all because he thought you didn't love him?" Ciel asked. Theresa nodded. "Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want to tell him because I've always believed no one would ever love me, and I thought if I confessed he wouldn't feel the same. To think, if I had just told him I could have stopped this. But I hid my feelings, and…I…." Theresa pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head against her arms as the tears returned; she waited for Ciel to give one of his 'don't dwell on the past' or 'once something's gone it can't come back' speech, but nothing came. Instead Sebastian knelt by her side and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Theresa, you really should get up. Sitting here won't do you any good. I understand you're in pain-" Theresa smacked his hand away.

"Shut up! You don't understand anything, you demon filth!" Sebastian gasped and Ciel took a step back. Theresa curled up again and leaned against the wall. Sebastian turned to face Undertaker's corpse.

"We should give him a proper burial."

"No!" Theresa shouted. Sebastian and Ciel turned to look at her. "If he's buried, he'll be gone forever. No one will remember him. I... We can't."

Ciel gave Sebastian a look and the two of them left the parlor. "What should we do, my lord?" Ciel sighed.

"I can't risk losing both of my informants. And while I don't quite understand love, I doubt Theresa is going to do anything without Undertaker by her side."

"My lord, are you suggesting-"

"Yes." Ciel turned to his butler. "Sebastian, this is an order. Take us to the reaper's library."

The two found their way to the desired location in a matter of minutes. Sebastian found the nearest reaper and asked him where Will could be found. "Last I checked he was in his office." After receiving directions from the reaper Sebastian and Ciel went to see Will. They entered and saw he was lecturing none other than Grell.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You cannot reap souls not on the 'To Die' list."

"I told you, he asked me to do it!" Grell shouted.

"Pardon the interruption," Sebastian said, making the two reapers turn and stare. "My young master and I have a few questions." Ciel stepped forward.

"We have come here to retrieve Undertaker's soul."

Grell sighed. "Oh dear Bassy I thought you were smarter than that. It's just like I told Theresa; once a soul has been reaped it can't be returned." Will then awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Actually that's not entirely true in this instance. You see, reapers harvest souls at the end of a human's life. But reapers, being immortal, have no end to their cinematic record. So in theory Undertaker's soul could be returned to him, and reattached where it was severed."

Sebastian gave a smile. "Then if you could kindly hand over his soul we'll be on our way."

"Absolutely not. Why should I hand over a soul to demon filth like you?"

"Because I need my informant back," Ciel replied.

"I'm afraid your personal desires do not affect whether or not I trust a demon." Will looked back down at his paperwork on the desk.

"If you do this for me I'll owe you a favor. Not to mention if we reverse the actions done by Grell here it will save you extra paperwork, which I'm guessing means less overtime." Will stopped what he was doing and looked at the young earl. From the looks of things he had caught Will's attention.

"Very well. I shall grant you this request. But I shall have to accompany you, since you'll need a reaper to manipulate the record."

"Why not just send Grell? He's already here, and it's his mess to clean up."

"I don't trust him to accomplish the task, and moreover I don't trust you demon." Will stood up and left the office, motioning for Ciel and Sebastian to follow. They made their way to the reapers library. Will walked to a shelf close to the back labeled 'Reapers Collection'. There were fewer books here, obviously from the fact that few reapers ever died. Will grabbed a black book from the shelf; the front had the words 'Adrian Crevan, a.k.a. Undertaker' written in flowing silver letters. He tucked the book under his left arm and the three of them left the library.

They made it to the Undertaker's parlor in a matter of minutes; everything was the same as Ciel and Sebastian had left it. Theresa was asleep against the nearby wall, her hair wrapped around her in a tangled mess. "Let's try not to wake her," Ciel said in a low voice. Will nodded and knelt beside Undertaker's body. He opened the book and let the strips of film fly from the pages. He turned to the body and activated the other half of the record. This half was blank, the strips of film representing the life Undertaker had not yet lived. The two halves of the Cinematic Record shot into the air, dancing around each other as they attempted to reconnect. Finally the blank record found the severed piece were Undertaker's life had ended. They wove themselves together and Will rewound the record. The light show ended abruptly.

"Did it work?" Ciel asked. As if in response Undertaker coughed and slowly sat up. After looking around for a minute his gaze fell on Will. His hand wrapped around Will's throat and his mouth curled into a scowl.

"What did you do? Why did you bring me back?"

"It was the Earl Phantomhive. He asked me to do it," Will said, surprisingly calm despite being strangled. Undertaker turned to look at Ciel.

"I wanted death! What purpose was there in reviving me!?"

"I did it because I need my informant back," Ciel said.

"That's a weak excuse; someone can always replace me."

"I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about her." Ciel said, pointing to Theresa. Undertaker looked to her sleeping form, feeling a whirlwind of emotions, some of which felt alien to him.

"What is she doing here?"

"She's been here for the past week crying over your corpse," Sebastian said. "Evidently she was just as unloved and lonely as you, and your death was too much for her."

"Unloved?"

"Yes. You were both so convinced you would never find love, you failed to recognize when the other was showing such affection." Sebastian said.

We'll leave you two to work things out," Ciel said. "Sebastian, let's go." The young earl and his butler left the shop. Will quietly removed Undertaker's hand from around his throat and left as well. Undertaker looked at Theresa, who had been asleep the whole time.

"She loves me," he said under his breath. He couldn't believe it. He stood up, felling unusually stiff; evidently being dead for a week would do that to you. Crouching beside Theresa, he saw she was shivering, and, upon feeling her forehead, had a slight fever. He clicked his tongue, "My snowflake, you've gone and worked yourself up so much you've managed to make yourself sick. We can't have that now can we?" He gently took Theresa into his arms and carried her to her room, placing her under the blankets. He then grabbed a wet cloth from the nearby washroom and placed it against her forehead. "That should do it," he said to himself. "Now to clean up downstairs. You made quite a mess of things, my snowflake."

Undertaker walked back downstairs, but not before going to his own room and changing into a clean set of robes. He surveyed the damage Theresa had undoubtedly caused. Part of him felt bad, but he had to allow himself a small chuckle.

In her blind rage, Theresa hadn't touched a single coffin.