The soul hidden in his pocket watch was making him salivate. It didn't help that he had tasted the man's soul before—the warmth of the man's blood had been intoxicating and invigorating. It was still poor swill compared to a contracted soul, but Sebastian wanted it in his body badly. He needed it.

The man was dead before he hit the water. Sebastian made sure of that. Both human and demon plunged into the dark Atlantic from the ship's deck in the most lethal embrace. And the man's blood—his rich sweet red blood—blossomed out from him.

The blood flowed over Sebastian's tongue. It melted into him, blocking out the sting of the saltwater over his injuries with a heavenly bliss. His head cleared. That moment of relief; it was the greatest feeling.

He was a servant to his master, not his pain. The demon wouldn't allow himself to be controlled by something so primitive and human.

He shouldn't have been alive to make it on to the rescue ship from the life boat. He shouldn't have lived through so many bizarre dolls sucking away his life force. He hadn't been able to heal himself at all. While he wasn't yet ready to accept the thought of his miraculous survival as product of divine intervention, it was difficult to deny that something wasn't fighting to him alive.

Sebastian had let the man's carcass sink down into the sea. He had in fact tried to consume the man's soul in a moment of weakness, however the contract had made sure that did not come to pass. Still, it wouldn't go over well for reapers to review the dead man's cinematic records and discover Sebastian's transgression, and Ciel had forbidden him from taking any soul from the rescue ship. Therefore, the only option Sebastian had was to take the soul with him when he swam back to the ship.

And that was how he got to be in the stage coach across from Ciel on the way back to the Manor. The blood he took allowed him to close off his external injuries, but his image of health failed to fool the Queen's Watchdog. Ciel eyed his hands, which were trembling in his lap, trying to keep from reaching into his vest pocket.

"Quit shaking like an old person. It's unbecoming."

Sebastian smiled. "Young master, I am an old person." He found a thread of self-control and smoothed his hands flat on the seat of his trousers.

"Ugh. Shut your mouth. I never want to stay so long in close quarters with you again."

"I rather enjoyed our time together, sir."

"I suppose exsanguinating would be a demon's version of fun, eh?"

His watch was calling out to him. Sebastian exhaled. "Fun would not be the word I'd use."

Ciel snorted. "I'll say." He looked out the window, the sight of solid land calming him after the past week. "You are going to be okay, aren't you?"

"Master, you wouldn't be worried about me, would you?" The watch was throbbing, beating against his heart.

"As if I've ever cared about you." He looked back to his butler. "It's not in my best interest for you to be dead while I still have unfinished business. Neither is it any good for me to have you act at anything less than full capacity."

"At the moment, I do not believe my injuries are mortal, my lord. I will recover completely in due time."

"That's good to hear."

Not another word was spoken until they arrived at the Manor. Mey-Rin and Finny greeted them with more enthusiasm than the three weary travelers cared for, prompting Tanaka drag the pair of lunatics off of them.

Ciel decreed that Sebastian and Snake were to take the rest of the day off, and that they return to work tomorrow morning. Under normal circumstances, Sebastian would have found some subtle way to protest being dismissed, however right now he was in dire need of privacy. The blood had all but worn off.

After handing Ciel off to Tanaka, Sebastian staggered his way to the servant's quarters. He would seal the watch in cement and bury it deep under the floor boards, where no one would ever discover what he did. To avoid suspicion, he would need to build a new pocket watch, but tinkering and metal work were not outside the realm of his abilities.

His composer was fading fast. When he put his hand on the door and opened it, he nearly fell to the ground.

Either the smell of three years of compounded cigarette smoke or the fact that the chimney himself was lying half asleep on his bed should have clued him in that he was not in the place he meant to be.

"Jesus Christ you gave me a scare!" Bard yelled as he sat up. He reached for the pack on his nightstand. "It's good to see ya, Sebastian. I suppose this means the young master and the new kid made it back too. That's good … you got us real worked up about you guys, you know."

He put a much needed cigarette in his mouth, kicking himself once he remembered the butler had banned him from lighting up indoors (he did anyway, but he figured getting away with it when Sebastian wasn't around and doing it right in front of him were kind of different). He left it unlit and fished around on the floor for his pants.

"Um, what are you doin' in my room, though?"

Sebastian decided he would have to get rid of it here. It was too much to walk any further."Bard. Get out."

"I thought, you know, with you bullying me around in my kitchen and all, this'd be the one place you wouldn't be pushing me around and stuff," he huffed as he did up his flies.

"Please leave."

The blond put up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'm going. Gotta take a smoke anyhow. Just … just don't touch anything, okay man?" He ran his fingers through his hair.

"And uh hey Sebastian, you don't look too good. Maybe you should, you know, take it easy …"

Red eyes glared at him.

"… if you even know how to do that." Bard left, still shaking his head.

Sebastian locked the door. A gloved hand snaked into his vest and brushed against the watch. So tempting …

He grabbed on to the soul and threw it away from him to the other side of the room like it was on fire.

He was bound Ciel Phantomhive, the Earl of Phantomhive. For three years he had dedicated himself to the whims of that vexing brat. Cooking, cleaning, killing. Violin lessons. All in the name of nurturing his master to be the greatest meal he's ever had. To desire any other soul was … wrong.

But still.

The young master wanted him to return to his health as expeditiously as possible, and the fastest way to mend his internal injuries would be to consume souls. It would replenish his strength. It would end the pain. And he was putting the boy at greater risk by remaining too weak to fight an opponent like Undertaker.

And endangering his master was against his aesthetic.

He crept over to the time piece, crawling on his hands and knees. He reached out to touch it, the polished silver case. The thin metal links. The beautiful light he knew was contained within.

He gasped as several of his broken ribs shifted against his lungs. He twisted to his side, trying to relieve some of the pressure. It didn't help much.

A glove was taken off so he could trail his fingers through the delicate chain. To think this little thing can make everything better—it was always the smallest of things that made the largest of impacts.

He pressed the button on the side and the hatch sprung open with a satisfying click. The soul rose from the crystal covered face, a gauzy iridescent glow only as big as an adult's fist.

Sebastian brought it to his mouth. It was soft. Luxurious.

He could feel the contract start to protest against him. The pain began as a knot in his stomach, hardly noticeable with all the other damage to his body. But the sensation grew sharp, like his insides were slowly being filled with glass pieces. He gripped his sides as the agony coursed through him.

A voice reverberated in his mind. It was powerful and dominate.

"This is it? Your first act of defiance?"

It wasn't Ciel … he couldn't put his finger on the speaker.

"I forbid you from taking any soul from the rescue ship. That's an order … isn't that what your young master told you?"

She was mocking him.

He snarled and blocked out the voice. His fangs bit into the soul, letting the honeyed flavor flow into him. The taste was as ordinary as the man it came from, but the rush of energy was euphoric.

There was a reason blood was only a tie over, famine food for demons. Souls were the closest thing damned creatures could experience to paradise. They were tiny bundles of pleasure and ecstasy wrapped in human packages.

He could feel his body knitting itself back together from the inside. The empty watch shattered on the ground and the torture of the contract fell away. Sebastian threw his head back in relief.

That was it; that was the first order he had ever betrayed of any contract he had entered.

"You bastard."

Nothing changed. No repercussions. How laughable. Sebastian lay panting on the floor, coming down from the first meal he'd eaten in almost four years.

Then it happened.

Partially congealed blood spouted from his mouth at a rate that made him start to retch the dead man's fluid. Bites pulled apart his skin as all of the injuries from the Campania that had healed began to unravel. Ribs were crushed into fresh fractures that embedded bone shards into other internal organs. Both shoulders and a hip dislocated with a sick pop. His own blood soaked through his white dress shirt and vest. His ankle jerked as he felt the phantom jaws of a bizarre doll clamp down on him.

Sebastian's breath hitched, knowing what came next. He tried to brace himself, his black claws into digging into his leg in an effort to not make a single sound.

The demon let out a blood curling scream as Undertaker's death scythe impaled him from the back, clean through his chest.

His cinematic record violently shot out of him as he collapsed moaning on his back. His fingers feebly tried to hold some part of him, either film or blood, on the inside. How ever would he explain this to the young master, now?

There was a loud knock on the door.

"Michaelis."

The man's crisp voice reached him from the hall seconds before the door was reduced to splinters.

"Oh. How convenient," said the intruder, retracting his weapon.

Sebastian's head drooped to the side to face him, barely breathing. "Sp- spears. Don't—"

The demon's crimson eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness.