Those Gentle Slopes that Lead to Hell

by Severus divides into H

Proud. Unique. Determined. From the second Sebastian sensed Ciel Phantomhive's soul, he realized their contract would be different. He was ready for it. And so he waits. He hungers. He is getting obsessed. He will do anything to devour this soul, and the fragile attachment to the boy that has begun to spread its icy fingers in him will not stop him. He thinks. [SebaCiel].

15. Chapter 15 A Loss

A/N: Hello! Thanks everyone for your comments. Replies are at the end. Happy new year!))

Chapter Fifteen: A Loss

Ciel fully intended to start the next day by savouring his last night's accomplishment. Each case he completed left him with a sharp, heady feeling of victory, reminding him that he deserved the position he was holding. Every drop of triumph helped level the scales, bringing him closer to the success of his predecessor. Soon, both sides would have equal weights on them, and then Ciel's would grow heavier. He wouldn't simply protect his family's name, he would make it shine brighter than it had ever shone before.

There was also the fact that he enjoyed reading about the results of his and Sebastian's work in fresh newspapers, especially if the image of Randall's sour face was printed beneath. But this morning, smugness was replaced by a wave of impotent rage that almost made him smash his teacup against the wall. Madam Red's presence was the only thing that held him back.

Jack the Ripper strikes again?! Another murder! One more prostitute dead, mutilated, and displayed! Scotland Yard is at a Loss!

The headlines were often misleading, but not in this case. Just looking at the description was enough to make it clear: Chamber was a disgusting criminal but he wasn't their murderer.

They had to start from the beginning.

"Bring me the files, Sebastian," Ciel said, trying to reign in his temper. Madam Red was watching him curiously, as if she didn't understand the gravity of the situation. Maybe she didn't. She certainly didn't seem upset or surprised. "And come with me. I have to discuss something with you."

Sebastian bowed and followed him obediently. Once they moved far enough, which eliminated the chance of being overheard, Ciel whirled around, hissing, "How could this have happened? You told me you checked all alibis. Viscount Druitt was the only one who fit the requirements. Did you miss someone?"

"No," Sebastian's lips stretched in a smile Ciel didn't understand. It was condescending and gleeful, as if he knew something and was deliberately hiding it. "I'm fairly certain the name of the murderer is on that list."

"Well, if it's not Druitt, who else could it be?"

"This is your case, Master. I'm but a pawn."

Oh, they were back to this, then. Very well.

"Check the alibis again," Ciel ordered, turning away from that smile. He wasn't in the mood to be made fun of, especially for reasons he didn't understand. "In addition, find out where the viscount is now. Maybe Scotland Yard is even more pathetic than I believed and they accepted the bribe for his release. He might still be our killer."

"As you wish."

"With alibis, be more thorough. Report to me only when you have interviewed everyone. Just looking at their souls isn't enough this time — what if the Ripper has an accomplice who helps him but who doesn't participate in murders? This person could be on the list, but I imagine their soul wouldn't be 'putrid', meaning that you would have likely missed him. Or vice versa: the killer might have an alibi for one murder committed by an accomplice but not for others. Question everyone thoroughly."

There was no answer, so Ciel turned to Sebastian again. The smile had disappeared from his lips, replaced by an attentive, intense look.

"If that's what you think, Master," he said neutrally. Ciel shrugged.

"It's either Druitt or you've made a mistake with alibis. It's obvious. If it's the latter, the possibility of there being two killers could be a good explanation. Bring me all related files, I'll look through them myself. You focus on Druitt and on all alibis."

Sebastian nodded. The curiosity in his gaze didn't lessen, so Ciel headed towards his office with a frustrated sigh. Couldn't he have gotten a normal demon? This one was determined to stir troubles and make an already complex case even more complicated. He really didn't need all that today.

When the files arrived, he delved into them, checking every detail and trying to find connections. On the one hand, there were plenty of them. On the other, none was of them were promising enough to bring instant gratification.

All women were prostitutes who frequented similar places. All were unsuccessfully involved in relationships with men at some stage of their life. All lacked money and relied on charity. Interestingly, all visited the hospital where Madam Red worked. Could the killer have noticed them there? Ciel would have to clarify what men were working at the time of the murdered women's documented visits.

Maybe he could track it via the list Sebastian had composed? All places of suspects' occupation were pointed out there.

Ciel grabbed the file, scanning it from top to bottom.

No. Only six males were working at the hospital at the right time, and they were too old to be considered suspects. A visitor, then? Someone pretending to be a patient? Or maybe the idea that the killer had medical background was a misconception. It could be a butcher, and if so, they'd have to search through the local market that each woman visited.

How unbelievably frustrating. If Sebastian came back with nothing, the new search was going to take days, maybe longer. The frequency of murders was escalating, and who knew how many more victims would there be before the killer was caught?

They had to take one step at a time. The hospital was the likeliest choice, and when checking it, perhaps they could follow the prostitutes themselves... If they couldn't find a killer, they could find the next victim.

Suddenly excited, Ciel pulled the previously discarded folder back close, feeling how his fingers started trembling with anticipation.

Here. All women visited the hospital within the same fifteen days. There was only one more name in the records — one more women had come for medical assistance during this timeframe and could have been potentially noticed by a killer.

It could lead to nothing, but it was a worthy start. If they were lucky, they would catch the murderer right in the act, and it would be more exciting than the terrible evening he'd been forced to endure yesterday. He wouldn't have to wear a dress either, which was a major improvement.

Pleased with himself, Ciel pushed the files away and stood up, stretching the tense muscles.

It was time for dessert.

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The evening was boring. Madam Red stuck to him like a leech, inviting him to play chess and bothering him with incessant chatter. The only reason why Ciel chose to entertain her was because this was the last day of her visit. She was leaving tonight, taking her useless servant with her, and it was encouraging enough for Ciel to make an effort and stay a welcoming host he was supposed to be.

Not without occasional cracks in the armour, though.

"I still remember the day you were born," Madam Red said, nostalgia heavy in her voice, and Ciel tensed, already seeing where this was going.

He didn't want to exchange memories. That part of his past was locked away, and he didn't appreciate being reminded of it.

"You were so small and fragile, and you brought out my protective instincts," Madam Red's face softened even further, and as she moved towards him, Ciel blinked. She couldn't be thinking about…

But she touched his head, warmly and affectionately, and his confusion transformed into stillness he didn't understand.

He disliked being touched. He endured Elisabeth's excited and suffocating hugs, just as he endured Madam Red's attempts at smothering him, yet this… this was different. Madam Red was strangely serious, and for some reason, her touch seemed more genuine than all previous touches combined.

"I was unable to have children, but I really do think of you as my own son," she was saying, and Ciel's heart jerked strangely as he stared at her wide-eyed.

They never talked about feelings. Not like this. This was distinctly uncomfortable, but at the same time, it sparked something in his chest. The spark was weak and hesitant, but it was there and Ciel had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

"If possible, I'd like you to…" Madam Red continued, and these words sent him back to reality.

She wanted something from him. Of course. She wanted him to abandon his duty and to revert to the state of a small boy who didn't think evil existed. The touch was a manipulation. How predictable.

Sneering, Ciel pushed her hand away.

"This is the task I've chosen freely," he told her. "It's my choice to make and no one else's. I don't regret my decisions and I won't be cuddled by anyone."

Madam Red looked wounded, and Ciel pursed his lips. This wouldn't work on him. He wasn't that naïve.

"I didn't mean—" she began, but he interrupted her.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't raise this topic again. Please return to your seat. We have to finish the game properly."

He was sure he caught a flash of resignation in Madam Red's eyes. She wavered, nodded, and did as he'd said.

Good. Ciel didn't know what was happening to her, and frankly, he wasn't interested in learning. After today, she would likely be gone for months, which would allow him to focus on his actual task.

He had a killer to catch.

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The end of the evening was boring. After Madam Red left, Sebastian had also departed, claiming he had to check several more names. Ciel decided to wait for him, but as tiredness inevitably took over, he fell asleep despite having left the lights on.

Still, a part of his mind, the one he despised vehemently, sensed Sebastian the second he entered his room, sending him a 'wake up' signal. Ciel opened his eyes and looked up sleepily.

"Well?" he murmured.

"No matter how many times I re-examine it, the answer is the same," Sebastian looked very busy, still going through the files, and Ciel frowned. Something wasn't right here.

"So the viscount isn't involved in yesterday's case?" he clarified.

"That is correct. None of the people at his mansion could have done it either."

"Right," Ciel said absentmindedly. "No person could be that quick..."

Something about Sebastian bothered him. He'd seen him concerned or eager to solve the riddle, and despite his attempts to demonstrate a similar behaviour now, it just didn't feel real. His concern was fake. The way he'd been examining those pages with names and alibis just now, as if looking for mistakes, was also fake — if Sebastian came to report, it meant he was fully confident about the accuracy of his information. In addition, there was some eagerness about him. Barely noticeable, but it was there. He was vibrating from anticipation of something — Ciel felt it almost physically.

His morning impression had been correct, Sebastian was playing a game. But which one?

Or was he overthinking everything? Sebastian had brought him what he'd asked for. Druitt wasn't guilty. Apparently, the alibis of everyone else were solid — not to mention that the majority of suspects from the list had been present at yesterday's ball and they couldn't have murdered anyone because there was simply no time. No person could manage that.

They'd have to start examining the hospital, then, just as he'd planned. Medical background was no longer a requirement, which opened new opportunities. The murderer could be anyone — a visitor, a janitor, a student.

"At any rate," Ciel began, "tomorrow we shall…" Then he stopped.

Sebastian had given him two conflicting answers. In the morning, he said he's certain that the name of the killer was on the list. A minute ago, he said that no matter how thorough he was, "the answer was the same". The same as in "no suspects"? Or something else?

Only several people possessed putrid souls and medical background. Everyone apart from Druitt had alibis for at least one of the murders… all but one. A person whose guilt Ciel hadn't even considered, whose absence of alibi he noted but hadn't questioned because he placed her into a group of those with bland souls without even asking Sebastian.

The hospital each of the victims had visited. The only person who lacked all alibis except for last night and who hadn't been interviewed. The game Sebastian was so clearly playing, waiting for some reaction from him…

The list did have a name of the murderer. Someone with medical education, someone who worked at the right hospital and whom Sebastian hadn't bothered to talk to. He hadn't bothered because he knew Ciel wouldn't mind, after seeing his lack of reaction to her absence of alibi.

How had Sebastian learned about the absence of alibi without even talking to her? Easily. After all, they spent all time under one roof.

The exception that filled in the blanks.

"Sebastian!" he breathed out, feeling like pure ice was injected into his veins. "It can't be!"

Sebastian smiled in his perverse pleasure, his teeth glistening in the light.

"I've told you many times, have I not? I will not lie to you," he said, and Ciel nearly growled. He wouldn't lie? Forget the semantics, all he did was lie, again and again, even when… even when…

"Of those with proficiency in medical arts, connections to black magic or cults, and the lack of an alibi at the time of the incidents, Viscount Druitt is the only one who fits the profile," Sebastian shrugged, and Ciel bared his teeth, balling his hands into fists.

The criteria had been wrong from the beginning. Sebastian had been toying with him all this time — he knew. He knew and he laughed at his obliviousness. He anticipated his horror and couldn't wait to step on his shock.

"Does that mean the investigation was just a farce, then?" Ciel spat. He had always believed that Sebastian was taking their tasks seriously. He was wrong.

"I am merely one hell of a butler," Sebastian's face took on a meek expression, and more than anything, Ciel wanted to hit him. Hit him hard enough to make him bleed. "I am faithful only to that which my Master has ordered and asked of me."

Ciel stiffened, seeing where this was going instantly. Tension coiled in him in a hot, painful strap, ready to burst any second.

Unable to resist his idiotic habit of being dramatic even now — especially now, to make light of this terrible situation, no doubt, Sebastian carelessly threw all pages of the list aside, letting them fly before beginning their slow and inevitable descent, and at this moment, Ciel hated him more than he ever had before.

"Under one of your orders, I am to be your pawn and your sword," Sebastian said, a dark, twisted joy radiating off him. "So, please, Young Master, move me into check. All I need is your order."

"Bastard," Ciel whispered. His heart was beating somewhere in his throat, and he couldn't speak properly, couldn't breathe. "You told me you looked at the souls of everyone from that list. You told me none of them except for the viscount could have done it."

"I said that I checked several alibis of those with putrid souls and merely looked at the rest of them," Sebastian retorted lazily. "I did not tell you that the viscount is the only suspect from the former group. I called him 'primary' based on the criteria we've devised. I'm afraid it was your decision to overlook other options. Understandably, I couldn't tell the truth to Madam Red when she asked, but I thought you'd be attentive enough to notice that she's the only one in the list who lacks alibi in all instances. All but yesterday's."

"You gave me no names," Ciel tried to steel his voice but it still came out shaky. Too shaky for his liking. "I didn't know which people belonged to what group."

"You didn't ask, Young Master, did you? You automatically placed Madam Red in the second group, believing her to be innocent and ignoring all discrepancies."

"You participated in setting the criteria and only Viscount Druitt fit them! The connection to rituals was your idea!"

"I only made a suggestion. I didn't force you to accept it, and Viscount Druitt was in fact involved with the cults. My idea proved to be wrong as he isn't guilty, it's as simple as that."

The biting reply was hot on his lips, but Ciel swallowed it forcibly and lowered his head. Closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his heartbeat and calm it down.

He couldn't have conversations with Sebastian when he was so emotional. He would make a mistake, he would show weakness, and Sebastian would pounce on it in an instant. Ciel could see what was happening with painful and reluctant clarity: Sebastian wanted him to order the capture or the demise of Madam Red. He was waiting for him to either break or to back down, and Ciel had to do everything to not give him that satisfaction.

He had to stay himself. He had to use all coldness he possessed to strengthen his grip on rationality and make a decision.

Sebastian's penchant for organising cruel tests was nothing unusual. But regardless of his taunts, regardless of how panicked and lost Ciel was currently feeling, he knew that Sebastian was right. If Madam Red was a murderer, he had no chance of covering it up. It was his duty to bring her to justice.

But why? Why would she do that? How could she be… She had always been so open, so easily excited, so compassionate. She was a good person, there was no trace of filth in her. Why…

Ciel let his nails pierce his palm, urgently shutting down every system in his mind that went out of control. One by one, each desperate voice was silenced, pushed away along with the thoughts and memories about Madam Red. When he finally looked up, his heart-rate stabilised, and a soothing calmness spread through his body, covering it with one solid shield. Ciel met Sebastian's gaze coldly, narrowing his eyes in contemplation.

"If Madam Red has an alibi for yesterday's murder, then she's acting with an accomplice," he said evenly. "But you said that people from yesterday's event couldn't have murdered anyone. How does that work, then? Unless…" Ciel paused. People. Grell who had come out of nowhere, with his strange obsession with death. The way he and Madam Red seemed so close, even though she wasn't usually all that fond of her servants. Could it be?.. "No. Don't tell me that Grell is a demon. Madam Red wouldn't…" But he didn't know it for sure, did he? If she could murder others in such a vicious fashion, she could be vile enough to summon someone. "I refuse to believe there are demons worse than you."

Sebastian straightened.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You are a useless demon," Ciel noted conversationally, almost shivering in pleasure as Sebastian's face darkened. "But in comparison to Grell, even you look impressive."

Funnily enough, Sebastian looked at the loss for words, as if he was completely uncertain how the conversation ended here and what he was supposed to say.

"Grell isn't a demon," he replied finally. Amusement and glee were gone, transforming into a beautiful scowl, and Ciel took his time admiring his handiwork. "However, he is not a person either. I would call him a mediator between hell and heaven."

"Pity. You don't have an excuse, then."

Sebastian's scowl got darker. The lingering traces of smugness disappeared, too, replaced by the look he wore whenever Ciel managed to strike a blow against his pride, and Ciel drank it all in, using it as fuel for a new wave of determination.

"Your games are vulgar," he concluded. "I expected you to work diligently. You didn't. What, did you think the realisation that Madam Red is our killer would affect me? Please. I admit it's unexpected. I thought Jack the Ripper is a man and I never took Madam Red for a murderer. I made a mistake in judgment, yes, but it doesn't mean I'm incapable of admitting it and rectifying the situation. If she murdered these women, she will be punished for it. Did you expect me to react differently?"

Sebastian bowed his head, as if in respect, but Ciel had a strange feeling that he wanted to hide his face. Maybe he was also experiencing emotions he didn't want to show?

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he snapped. Sebastian obeyed, but his face was carefully blank. Disappointing but not entirely unexpected. "I don't care who the murderer is. If I have to, I will kill her with my own hands. I assure you that I take my responsibilities before the Queen seriously. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian replied. He still wore no expression, but his eyes were alight with fervency Ciel couldn't decipher.

"Good," he said, stretching his legs. It was getting easier to wear the mask of calmness by the minute, as if it had truly melded with his face. "Now tell me, is there any actual evidence against her? We have to catch her in the process of kidnapping — or murder. I have a name of a possible victim but—"

"There is no need for that," Sebastian stepped closer and then went to his knees. Ciel blinked, confused, but the confusion waned when he felt a touch of fabric against his leg. "I was tracking Grell's movements. Tonight, he has kidnapped a prostitute named Mary Jane Kelly. She is the only remaining person who has undergone an abortion under Madam Red's guidance and lived. I imagine you meant her? Grell is holding her near George Yard, at her own apartment. He will take Madam Red there, and if we hurry, we will arrive on time."

A chill of dread ran down his spine, but Ciel ignored it.

He would do what he must. Personal consequences meant nothing. In the end, if he had to choose… he would choose his reputation, not family.

At least he wanted to believe that.

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They found the victim tied to a wooden chair. Her blue eyes widened when she saw them before filling with desperate hope.

"Thank Lord!" she whimpered. "Please, please help me! I don't know why I was brought here but I think he's going to kill me. It must be Jack the Ripper, just like the newspapers said! Please, you have to untie me."

"Not now," Ciel's gaze lingered on her before he snapped it back to Sebastian. "We will wait. I want to catch them both, and I don't want there to be any misunderstandings. We must collect the absolute evidence."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, looking taken aback and curious at once.

"Do you mean we should allow Grell and Madam Red to kill her?"

The woman let out a choked noise and Ciel frowned, glancing at her.

"No. We will wait near the entrance. We'll intercept them before they go inside."

"Don't leave me here!" the woman's voice gained hysterical notes. If she kept yelling like this, she might attract some attention, and this was not what they needed. He had to change his approach.

"What is your name?" Ciel asked, putting on the nicest smile he could master. Sebastian snorted, so Ciel sent him a brief glare.

"M-Mary," the woman whispered. "Mary Jane. I… I don't want to die."

"You won't," Ciel said confidently. "We will be just behind the corner. No one will walk past us without being noticed. As soon as your kidnappers appear, we will arrest them. You will be safe. Until then, stay quiet, all right? In a few hours, your home will be safe again, and you'll be drinking tea and sharing the details about this adventure with your friends."

The woman laughed shakily.

"I don't have any t-tea," she murmured. "Not tonight."

"I will give you enough money to buy it, then. Do you agree?"

"Yes," she nodded, but her eyes were still wide and scared. "D-do you promise? Do you promise I'll be safe?"

"Of course," Ciel uttered smoothly. He wondered if he should touch her hand or hair. Would she find that soothing? People normally liked being comforted through physical contact.

In the end, he failed to decide where he should put his hand, so he just gave her another reassuring smile and walked out of the building.

It was raining. Ciel shivered, wrapping his hands around himself.

"You lie effortlessly, Young Master," Sebastian commented. He was watching him, his fascination so palpable that Ciel nearly forgot about his intention to stay angry. "However, you need to work on your smile. It didn't look authentic."

"She bought it, didn't she?" Ciel retorted. "And how could you see my smile, I turned my back to you."

"I could hear it in your voice. I don't need to see your face to understand when you're smiling."

"So was my smile or my voice inauthentic?"

"Your smile. You put a rather convincing amount of warmth into your voice to fool others."

Ciel wasn't sure what it meant that Sebastian was paying attention to such things about him. A few hours ago, it would have likely pleased him. His need for Sebastian's attention continued to plague him regardless of his efforts to get rid of it. But after learning the truth about Jack the Ripper, about the way Sebastian had turned this case into a farce… He felt too tense. Too upset. And he wasn't in the mood to decipher what Sebastian's words or actions meant.

"My lord, I hope you realize that we have only a small chance of saving that woman?" Sebastian asked after a short silence. "Grell isn't human. I'm not sure what abilities he possesses, but the victim might die before we reach her."

Ciel snorted.

"Do you take me for an idiot?" he asked condescendingly. "Of course I realize it. But I cannot rely on the words of a prostitute. Even if I did and she identified Grell as her kidnapper, Madam Red would remain unpunished. She has a flawless alibi for the last night. She would blame Grell and we would never refute her words. I won't let it happen. I need her to compromise herself before taking any actions."

He hoped it sounded convincing enough for Sebastian to believe it. Not that it wasn't the truth, but it wasn't the complete one either. Justice was a worthy goal, but first and foremost, Ciel wanted to see Madam Red for himself. He needed this confirmation. He needed to make sure this wasn't a strange coincidence and that she was indeed guilty.

He hoped Mary Jane wouldn't die. Grell might move fast, but Sebastian wasn't slow either. They had a chance to stop the murder from happening, but even if they ended up sacrificing this woman's life, so be it. Ciel was prepared for it. Catching Madam Red was more important.

But when the high and hopeless scream sounded, he was suddenly not that sure.

"There shouldn't have been any way for someone to go through!" he said stupidly, his heartbeat jumping from calm to frantic in the matter of seconds.

"Let's go," Sebastian murmured, the familiar twisted excitement creeping in his voice, but Ciel didn't even stay to glare at him. He broke into a run, hoping that maybe, the woman could still be alive. Jack the Ripper didn't kill in one strike, right? Those mutilations had to take time.

Then again, maybe not. Maybe they happened post mortem.

Without waiting for Sebastian, Ciel burst through the door, and a small spray of blood hit him in the face the same instant. He froze, wide-eyed, staring at the body.

Blood. So much blood. And tears that were still running down Mary Jane's cheeks, leaving her dull and empty eyes, reminding him of…

The pang of guilt lessened, dissolving in much darker memories, but Ciel shook his head briefly, chasing them away. After the days he'd spent with Tanaka, trying to destroy his pitiful attachment to Sebastian, these memories could no longer hurt him. He didn't lose his grip on reality — he stayed alert and collected.

No, it wasn't the nightmare of his past that sent his mind crashing. It was a painfully familiar face staring at him from semi-darkness.

He hadn't wanted to believe it. Despite all the evidence, despite Sebastian's conviction, he had been hoping they were wrong.

They weren't.

"Don't look!"

Sebastian finally reached him. Before Ciel could say anything, Sebastian covered his eyes with one hand and wrapped the other one around his waist, jumping backward, doing it so swiftly that Ciel felt his hat fall off. He gasped, both from the unexpectedness of the movement and from the impact of what he'd seen.

Madam Red was there. In the room with a dead body. Madam Red and Grell.

She was a murderer. A violent and deranged murderer.

How could he have not seen it?

For a while, all sounds disappeared. Ciel was sucking in the air greedily, trying to find a balance in the storm of memories that he had never expected to be tainted.

He had always treated Madam Red indulgently. He didn't take her seriously, viewing her as vain and overly loud, but she was his family. She was his. And now, all those moments he never even knew mattered were shattered by the realisation that none of them had been truthful. Everything was a lie. Everything. The person he thought he knew had never existed.

With an effort, Ciel pushed the memories deep down, as far as he could manage, to a mental chest with other dead things he no longer wanted to remember. As soon as they were gone, his steadiness began to return. He was no longer suffocating, and the bits of conversation between Sebastian and Grell started to register in his mind.

"You are supposed to be a neutral being in the balance between gods and humans," Sebastian was saying. There was a rebuke in his voice, but even in his half-confounded state, Ciel could say it was artificial. For whatever reason, Sebastian was delighted to meet Grell. Or maybe he just liked seeing another supernatural creature here. "A Grim Reaper," Sebastian added, and if his mood was a little better, Ciel would have snorted at the irony. Reaper. Ripper. Grell probably loved the nickname he and Madam Red had been given.

"Why would a divine being like you become a butler?" Sebastian wondered. He was still holding him tightly with both hands, and at this second, Ciel wasn't willing to try and free himself. The warmth from Sebastian's touch enveloped him in a protective blanket, giving him a deceptive feeling of safety and filling him with more confidence.

Whatever deal Madam Red had struck with Grell, she hadn't fallen as low as Ciel. She hadn't summoned a demon, having to settle for some mediocre intermediary creature. Ciel was darker, and it meant that he would be able to deal with her. If a demon from hell itself was on his side, he had enough strength and cruelty to do what he must.

"Indeed," Grell drawled. He sounded different. The reverent undertones were gone, replaced by deep dramatic tilts. "For now, we shall say that I fell in love with a woman."

Fell in love with a…? Ciel swallowed, disgust rising within him. Madam Red and Grell? She was engaged in an actual relationship with a servant, a non-human creature?

Maybe she had fallen lower than him.

"And that woman is?" Sebastian asked with mild interest.

"You already know the answer. Why do you ask?"

Her voice sounded different, too. It was cold and clear, no traces of flirtation or hysteria. At the unmistakable sound of footsteps, Ciel finally straightened and removed Sebastian's hand from his eyes, although he continued to hold it in his for a while, absorbing the last bits of comfort.

There was no running from this. He would see her for what she was. He was ready.

She stood before him in her red coat, with narrowed eyes and grim expression on her face. The only sign that belied her possible turmoil was her arms crossed across her chest.

"Madam," Ciel said quietly. He finally released Sebastian's hand, briefly surprised when Sebastian's fingers clung to his, as if unwilling to let go. Clearing his throat, he stepped away.

"This was beyond my expectations," Madam Red commented calmly. "I never thought that there would be someone able to see Grell's true nature."

"Of course, you were on the suspect list from the very beginning, Madam," Ciel told her. His voice was subdued but sufficiently indifferent. "However, your alibi was perfect." For the last night. Ciel had no desire to let her know that he'd stupidly ignored the possibility of her being a murderer before that. Better let her think she's smart than admit he could be this naïve.

As he'd expected, she tilted her head, bemused.

"You even suspected me, one of your relatives?"

"When it comes to a murderer like Jack, blood relations do not matter," Ciel retorted. With the back of his head, he sensed how Sebastian looked at him, probably wondering if his resolve was genuine.

It was.

"It was impossible for any human on that list to be involved in all the incidents. However, if the accomplice were inhuman, that would change the game completely. If they were able to get into a room within a split second without us noticing, then they could move from the viscount's home to East End in an instant. In the end, you two were the only ones who could be "Jack the Ripper"… Madam Red and Grell Sutcliffe." Ciel looked at Grell briefly and did a double-take. This was the first time he truly noticed him tonight. What the hell was this… thing? Long red hair, weird red glasses, and a mouth full of monster teeth. This was how the real Grell looked like? This was his true form?

Ciel sincerely hoped Sebastian didn't look anything like that. Even the new and terrifying form he'd seen at night several days ago was preferable to this idiocy.

"There were other connecting factors among the victims of Jack the Ripper," he continued, still eyeing Grell in distaste. "They all underwent a certain surgery at the Central London hospital where you work, Madam. Among the list of patients we compiled, the only one who had not been killed yet was the woman named Mary Kelly. We knew that if we loitered around here, you'd be sure to show up."

For a second, a memory of a dead woman flashed in his mind. Grell had to have kidnapped her when Madam Red was still at Ciel's house, playing chess with him and urging him not to follow the path of his predecessor.

Even that wasn't authentic. She wasn't worried about him, she was worried about getting caught. And she still participated in tonight's murder.

"We could not save her, though," Ciel added softly. Madam Red sneered.

"This is so unfortunate, Ciel, my adorable nephew," she sighed. "If you hadn't gotten to the bottom of this, we would have been able to play chess again."

Ciel levelled her with a cold glance. Since he was staring so intently, he noticed the moment when her eyes flared with something bloodthirsty and wild. Her hands clenched into fists.

"But I will not yield this time!" she screamed. To echo her scream, Grell turned on something loud and screeching. Ciel only had time to blink when he realised that this noisy something was approaching him quickly, ready to land a blow. He recoiled, but Sebastian interfered before Grell's weapon could touch him. He caught it with his hands, and the aura around him changed from amusement to deadliness in what seemed like an instant. Making some sharp movement, he sent Grell flying, and then he jumped back smoothly, completely defying the laws of gravity.

"What is that?" Ciel exclaimed. Sebastian didn't reply at first, keeping his protective crouch warily, but then he dropped his arms and straightened.

"Reapers have a tool they use to hunt people's souls," he explained, though he sounded as flabbergasted as Ciel was feeling. "It's called the Reaper's Scythe."

"Don't give it an unfashionable name like "scythe"!" Grell protested aggressively. Ciel gaped while Sebastian covered him again, probably not sure what to expect from this madman. "I took such trouble to customise it! It can shred any substance that stands in its way. Only I am permitted this death-scythe. I was playing nice for so long that my skills have grown rusty, so I want a good workout with you!"

Grell's voice deepened at the last word, and Ciel felt like the world had stopped making any sense completely. Grell was eager to fight Sebastian and he called it a workout? What kind of laws existed in this other world he knew almost nothing about?

"Can you refrain from making such repulsive comments?" Sebastian asked, unimpressed. "I am in the middle of my work."

Ciel sent him a confused gaze. What was so repulsive about Grell wanting to fight him? Was he missing something?

Grell started to rave about some nonsensical things again, so Ciel stopped listening. He focused on Madam Red. The explosion of wild rage was gone, and now her face was detached and emotionless. How could someone pretend so well? How could someone so cheerful have so much hatred and mindless violence in them?

"I will carve you down to your inner depths, scattering that beautiful red colour everywhere!" Grell sang, and Ciel bristled. As if this clown stood a chance against Sebastian.

Sebastian didn't appear worried either. He deliberately turned away from Grell, demonstrating his unprotected back, and faced Ciel instead.

"Reapers are those who should peacefully hunt down souls heading for death," he said, unbuttoning his coat. "Butlers are those who should obey their masters like loyal shadows."

Before Ciel could react, Sebastian put his coat around him, carefully adjusting the hoodie so it would cover him from the rain. This was completely unnecessary — first, he was already wet, and second, he wasn't made of sugar, some water would certainly not kill him! Yet his treacherous hands clenched the coat greedily, pulling it even closer. It still held traces of Sebastian's warmth.

"Your poor taste, which violates both of those ideals, sickens me quite a lot," Sebastian finished, turning to face Grell again. Grell started to reply, but Ciel didn't even listen.

Enough was enough.

Forcing his fingers to detach themselves from Sebastian's coat, he pressed them to his right eye.

"On behalf of Her Majesty and my own," he said frigidly, "I order you to dispose of them."

His mark flared.

Ciel wasn't watching the fight. He knew Sebastian would win — if not immediately, then eventually. He stood in front of Madam Red, and now, when there was no Sebastian separating them, Ciel found that he couldn't look at her face again.

He had done what he had to. He'd signed her death warrant. He had no desire to keep looking at her, though he still caught every word she was saying.

"I didn't expect you to actually go through with it," Madam Red drawled. "Ruthlessness must be in your blood. To kill a relative? How discourteous of you."

Ciel said nothing.

"You and I have become the guard dog and the prey," Madam Red chuckled. And then, just like it happened before, she went from calmness to unexplainable fury in the matter of seconds. "If you're going to hunt me down, then I can only do the same!"

Ciel's eyes widened in shock when she rushed at him. He made his frozen body move only at the last moment, and the dagger Madam Red must have retrieved at some point pierced his arm, leaving a deep, agonising cut. Ciel let out a pained sound and jerked, staring at his bleeding wound in disbelief. The knife had gone in deeply. His whole arm felt on fire, and this fire was rapidly devouring his self-control, all the barriers he had built.

She hurt him. She actually hurt him.

"You are a doctor!" he blurted out, realising how childish and vulnerable his voice sounded but suddenly unable to care about it. "Why would you do that?!"

The chest he had just locked burst open again, with memories escaping in unstoppable quantities. He felt wounded. Wounded in more ways than one, something he hadn't thought he was still capable of.

"Even if I explained, a brat like you would never understand!" Madam Red cried out. There was so much despair and bitterness in her words that Ciel's lips parted in surprise, but he didn't even have time to say anything because a strong arm wrapped around his throat, throwing him against the wall. The air was knocked out of him forcibly, and slowly but steadily, a fire started to spread through his lungs.

A gun. He had a gun in his back pocket. His right arm was no longer functional, but he could shoot with his left, too. Sebastian had insisted on teaching him every stance there existed.

"A brat like you…" Madam Red repeated, but her voice wavered. Her voice wavered, and just like that, the thoughts about the gun left Ciel's head.

Something happened. Something must have happened to her.

"Like you…" she tried again, even more hoarsely. Then she raised her hand with the knife, an already familiar madness looking at Ciel through her eyes. "You should have never been born!"

Ciel drew in a breath sharply, staring at her in genuine, hurt bewilderment. He couldn't understand her words. He couldn't make sense of them. Why would she hate him? What had he ever done to her?

He knew he'd lost. She would kill him and he was paralysed, unable to make himself move. But instead of plunging into his body, like it'd done to so many victims, the knife trembled.

"Sister…" Madam Red whispered. That one word must have somehow torn through all the layers of hatred and fury because suddenly, she didn't look ready to kill him. Her grip on his throat loosened and she stepped back.

She looked at him with love. She looked like his aunt again.

"Young Master!" Sebastian bellowed, and he sounded so uncharacteristically terrified that Ciel looked at him instinctively. As soon as their gazes met, Sebastian jerked forward, and a huge spray of his blood surged up. Ciel's body also jerked, as if he was the one being hurt, his heart thrashing violently in yet another shock.

Sebastian was hurt — really hurt this time. And all because he decided to protect him from…

Oh. Oh, no.

"Don't, Sebastian!" Ciel screamed. Everything was happening so quickly, he could barely see a dark shadow and glistening red eyes. "Don't kill her!"

Everything stopped. Ciel could see Sebastian frozen in the air, his hand inches from Madam Red's head. His eyes were still unnaturally red and vicious.

If Ciel had been even one second late with his cry, Sebastian would have torn her head right off her shoulders. He looked murderous. And then his brows furrowed, and he started to look uncomprehending.

Madam Red dropped the knife, but right now, Ciel could care less about her. His eyes were glued to Sebastian's collarbone. It was cut almost in half, with pieces of torn flesh peeking out and blood oozing in endless streams.

"Sebastian…" Ciel whispered. His heart was still beating madly, and something hot filled his eyes.

No, no, he couldn't cry. He wouldn't. He was stronger than this — Sebastian was a demon, he couldn't die, and his wounds would heal themselves quickly. But it was all suddenly too much. This whole evening, this night — he couldn't stand it. He needed to find an anchor urgently but it just wasn't there. His mind was plunged into utter chaos.

"My, Sebby, you're so daring!" Grell cooed. "Even at the cost of an arm, you went to save that kid!"

Ciel flinched, unable to stop himself.

"On the other hand, you're a disappointment, Madam." Grell grimaced. "Hurry up and get rid of the brat already!"

Sebastian snarled quietly, crouching, but Madam Red didn't even look at the knife. Instead, she looked at Ciel, and her eyes were full of tears.

"I can't," she choked out. "I just can't. I can't kill this child."

A part of Ciel that clung to darkness melted. He didn't see or hear anything else. He could only see her. His aunt.

"Madam," he whispered.

How strange. He had never thought he loved her until this moment.

She turned to Grell, still crying.

"This child is my ne…"

The next thing Ciel saw was blood. Even more of that hateful blood. Grell's Scythe, or however it was called, was thrust into Madam Red's chest, and strange colourful ribbons spread from her, showing the endless moments of… what was that?

Shell-shocked, Ciel caught a glimpse of his own smiling face, then that of his parents.

Memories.

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He watched silently, unmoving, struggling with understanding what reality was and wasn't. The entire life Madam Red had lived was coiling nearby, but he managed to catch only some parts of it.

His… his parents. Meeting. Falling in love. Being buried together.

Ciel had never known how the funeral had gone. He hadn't thought of that much — at the time, he was too busy with his own torture. But he was seeing the reflections of it now, and no matter how brief they were, he knew he's not going to forget them. Not ever.

He saw Madam Red's love and her hatred. He saw her growing bitterness and watched how she slipped into a dangerous delusion, hoping that by murdering others, she would be able to cope with her own pain. She might have stopped herself if not for Grell, who had come out of nowhere.

A chance encounter. An encounter that destroyed any possibility of the things changing.

The tape ended. Ciel continued to stand, too numb to move or to even feel much. Without the ribbons, Madam Red looked small and empty. A dead doll, not a person she'd been just five minutes ago. Her eyes were open and glassy, with tears of vulnerability still brimming in their corners.

She shouldn't look like that. The pain was gone now, and she could finally have peace.

Slowly, Ciel went to his knees, closing her eyes with his hand. A part of his mind registered that Grell was walking away from them, bored and indifferent, and that Sebastian wasn't in the hurry to follow.

"Sebastian," Ciel said dully. "What are you waiting for?" He felt so tired. So drained. "I told you to hunt down Jack the Ripper. It's not over yet."

Sebastian didn't reply, and when Ciel finally turned to him, he saw his widened, astonished eyes. Even his lips were parted.

"Don't stand around," Ciel ordered, mystified himself. What made Sebastian so surprised? Had he believed Ciel would revoke his order for some reason? "Get rid of the other one."

Finally, the expression of amazement dissipated, replaced by a pleased look.

"Certainly," Sebastian agreed.

Ciel watched Grell turn, pretending to be saddened by the upcoming fight. His excited stare told a different story.

"Both of you will go to Heaven together!" he promised, and Sebastian chuckled.

"Heaven?" he repeated. He sounded coldly amused. "I know nothing of Heaven."

His ensuing laughter was low and sinister, more resembling that of a monster than of a man he was pretending to be. Ciel watched, although he couldn't bring himself to enjoy the commencing show. His emotions went silent, with only tiredness and apathy remaining.

"Do you really think a demon can win against a God?" Grell scoffed incredulously.

"I wonder," Sebastian replied, and a weak pang of unease shot through Ciel. He wasn't sure? How could that be?

As if sensing his thoughts, Sebastian looked at him. He didn't look worried in the least: his gaze was warm, his smile serene.

"However, if my Young Master has told me to win," he said, "then I shall win."

Ciel held his gaze, feeling something in his chest wake up. Sebastian's coat was still around him and he hugged it tighter.

"You sure care a lot about that little brat," Grell noted, first notes of annoyance distorting his voice. "You'll get burnt. Even if you are a demon, if I plunge my death-scythe into you, you'll die. Aren't you scared?"

"Not at all," Sebastian uttered, and based on his voice, Ciel could tell he was smiling. "I belong to my Master. My body and soul, down to the last hair, are his. As long as the contract continues, obeying his orders is my duty as a butler."

His words were reverent, but instead of pleasing him, they terrified him. Ciel flinched when the merciless realisation crashed into him.

His weakness. That's what it was about. After tonight, he'd have to do a very intensive damage control, proving again and again that he wasn't actually an emotional wreck and that their contract had to continue.

When it came down to it, he couldn't kill Madam Red, and Sebastian knew it. That was why he looked so surprised when Ciel demanded him to kill Grell. He must have thought Ciel had lost himself, turning into a pathetic, worthless child.

At least his actions had murdered Mary Jane. In this situation, it was good. Not everything was lost, Ciel could still earn Sebastian's respect back. Ordering him to kill Grell was a step in the right direction.

The coat began to feel heavy and cold. Ciel took it off and turned his back to the battle. Carefully, he covered Madam Red, hiding her face from view.

There. She would be warmer like this and he wouldn't have to look at her. Wouldn't have to feel the weight of the coat on his shoulders either.

Above him, the fight went on. Ciel purposefully didn't look up, but considering where he was sitting, the echo of voices still reached him. There was a crash, and then Grell crowed, "A thousand farewells! Now, show me your most dramatic memories!"

What?

Despite his inner protests, Ciel raised his head and froze.

Sebastian was surrounded by the ribbons, too. The ribbons that had to symbolise death.

But that wasn't possible. That wasn't possible, Sebastian was strong — Grell might have a dangerous weapon but he was an idiot. He could never beat Sebastian, Ciel refused to believe that.

He wanted to scream, but his voice didn't obey him. Gasping in a fruitless attempt to breathe, he stretched his hand in Sebastian's direction helplessly, but it fell when he realised Sebastian didn't seem to be dying. On the contrary, he seemed just as interested in his memories as Grell was, probably wondering which ones would be the most dramatic.

He was all right. Sebastian was simply toying with Grell — he had to be. In fact, he had probably calculated everything and allowed himself to be hit in a non-lethal way deliberately, wondering how the Reaper's Scythe would work on him.

That big idiot.

Ciel relaxed, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. He couldn't see much from here, but in the silence that stretched, he could hear weak voices coming from the tape. What were Sebastian's most dramatic memories? What had affected him? What broke him?

His curiosity flared, bright and unexpectedly greedy, but then he recognised the voices and curiosity turned into stupor.

He could hear Tanaka. And Bard. And Mey-Rin with Finnie. Over and over again, in a long series of their interactions with Sebastian.

"What the hell is this?" Grell yelped, and for a change, Ciel agreed completely. What in the world was this about? This was drama, in Sebastian's understanding? This?

Of course. Sebastian was a demon and demons didn't have feelings. If this wasn't the biggest and the ugliest piece of evidence, Ciel didn't know what else was.

Sickened, he stopped looking, staring at Madam Red's covered body unseeingly.

Fool. What a fool he was. Despite everything, he kept hoping… he kept believing that there was some depth to Sebastian. That he was more than he pretended to be.

He wasn't. He really was a soulless, empty, indifferent monster who didn't understand pain and whose life-goal was mindless hunger. He was nothing. Nothing worthy of attachment.

The warm flame of longing Ciel had been trying to fight so diligently shrivelled and died, leaving a torn and bleeding gape behind. He hated this part of himself, but now that it was gone, he suddenly felt empty. Was that how Sebastian was feeling all the time? Hollow. Bare. Aimless.

His shoulders slumped, and Ciel pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, increasing the pressure until it began to hurt. He'd wasted so much time on succumbing to illusions and fighting them… and for what? It had been useless from the beginning. He just proved his own idiocy.

There was a shout above him. Ciel turned instinctively and saw something red falling right on him, screaming in Grell's voice. He furrowed his brows, and next second, Sebastian landed nearby. Making one inhumanly long jump, he hit the falling Grell, sending him in another direction, away from Ciel.

"I apologise," he said, bowing his head in shame. "I misjudged the distance."

What a good, obedient servant.

Swallowing his bitterness, Ciel looked at him reluctantly.

"You're in quite a state," he said mildly. Sebastian did look terrible: blood seemed to be everywhere, and the wound he sustained when dashing to protect Ciel didn't look close to healing. Now, though, it didn't affect him as much as it would even five minutes ago. Sebastian didn't feel anything. Ciel was certainly not going to worry about his wounds.

"I had a little resistance, so…" Sebastian shrugged playfully. Nodding, Ciel focused on Madam Red's body, though he wasn't really seeing it. He heard Sebastian approach Grell, taking his Scythe and issuing lofty threats he generally used to show off. It wasn't impressive. Not when Ciel knew there wasn't anything deeper than that under the surface.

"Young Master," Sebastian called him. "Even though he is a hideous reprobate, he is a Reaper, a god of death. Are you prepared to accept the consequences of killing him?"

Was that an attempt to get his attention? Sebastian should know better than question him.

"Are you trying to make me give the same order twice?" Ciel asked monotonously, deliberately not glancing in his direction. Even without looking, he could tell Sebastian was displeased at being ignored, but it didn't last long.

"Understood," he drawled. Grell whimpered when Sebastian turned on his Scythe, and Ciel tried to tune all these sounds out. They were only bothering him.

It's not that he held much animosity towards Grell. It was his duty to avenge Madam Red, it wasn't personal. Grell might have killed her but he wasn't human. He didn't act and he didn't think or feel like one. It was difficult to judge a fox for being a fox and killing a rabbit. Whatever her story was, Madam Red was the one who had gotten herself into this situation. This outcome was inevitable. You could never trust a monster, especially one from another world.

Ciel only wished he could say the same about Sebastian. Absurdly, he didn't blame Grell for killing his aunt, but a part of him did judge Sebastian for being who he was: an emotionally stunted demon who didn't understand even something as simple and universal as the concept of suffering.

"Don't you want to know who killed your parents?" Grell shouted suddenly, and Ciel jerked his head up, feeling like a pot of boiling water was flung over him, with every his nerve ending catching fire.

Grell knew about his parents? Grell knew the truth?

Of course! He was a Reaper. Maybe he had collected their souls and seen their memories — maybe he'd seen who had murdered them.

Ciel opened his mouth, but before any sound could escape, Sebastian swung the Scythe abruptly and aimed it at Grell at full speed. The blow was lethal — he directed the Scythe at Grell's waist, clearly intending to cut him in half. It all happened so quickly that Ciel never had a chance to yell "no", but to his shock and relief, it wasn't needed.

A new party had joined them. A strange man standing on the roof, holding a very long stick that he'd used to prevent Sebastian from killing Grell.

Ciel finally remembered how to breathe. He tried to listen to the unexpected conversation but his thoughts were slipping away.

Why had Sebastian tried to kill Grell? Yes, technically, he was acting on Ciel's order, but he wasn't an idiot. He had to hear what Grell had said. If Grell was a potential witness, why had Sebastian still try to go through with his murder? And he acted so fast, like he wanted to silence Grell before Ciel could utter a word.

It was strange. It was strange and Ciel couldn't understand it.

"I suppose that the dog kept on the leash is better than the mad dog that roams around with no principles," the new Reaper, William something, remarked, half-turning to him, and Ciel started, thrust back into the present. Dog on the leash? That was a good definition to what Sebastian was. He was even named after one. Though dogs were supposed to be genuinely loyal and compassionate. Sebastian was anything but. So no, not a dog at all. Maybe a cat, cold and superior to everyone, always following their own goals. Sebastian was partial to them, after all.

Would this day ever end? The void inside his chest was getting unbearable. Ciel wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold himself together.

He had to be alone. He needed time to think and get his thoughts and feelings in order. The sooner he defined the emptiness that was devouring him, the better equipped he would be at dealing with it.

"I must apologise," Sebastian said with a contrite sigh, walking towards him. "Half of Jack the Ripper escaped."

"Let it go," Ciel uttered barely audibly. He wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to Sebastian. "Just let it go."

It didn't matter. Nothing did, not now. He'd killed a woman. Madam Red died. He failed to take actions against her right under Sebastian's demanding stare, showing himself as weak. He finally understood what Sebastian was and Sebastian tried to eliminate the only potential witness in the case of the Phantomhive murders. A little more, and his mind would snap.

Ciel could sense how Sebastian crouched next to him, brushing his fingers against his cheek, uncharacteristically gentle and careful.

"You're chilled to the bones," he murmured, affection emanating from every syllable. His touch lingered. "Let's hurry back to the townhouse. I shall prepare some hot milk for you."

Ciel sighed, closing his eyes briefly. No point in being angry at fox for being a fox, was it?

"Okay," he said listlessly. Sebastian was trying hard to mimic human behaviour. He should be satisfied with this.

Ciel tried to stand up, but his legs buckled under him, weakness piercing every exhausted cell of his body.

"Young Master!" Sebastian hurried to catch him, springing to his feet and trying to wrap his arms around him. Ciel's cheek pressed against his bleeding collarbone for one short moment — so warm, so familiar, so safe, but immediately after that, hurt and bitterness shot through his mind, reminding him of their presence. Ciel recoiled violently, slapping Sebastian's waiting hands away and sending him a warning glare.

Whatever Sebastian was imagining, he wasn't weak. And he was no longer delusional.

Sebastian's eyes grew comically wide. He clearly hadn't expected to be rejected.

"Young Ma—" he started to say, but Ciel interrupted him.

"It's fine. I can stand on my own."

The silence between them was uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, Ciel stared at the horizon, trying to persuade his body that it wasn't about to crumble. He couldn't afford something like that. Not after tonight. Sebastian had already seen a hole in his armour, and now or later, there were going to be consequences.

"It's just… I'm slightly fatigued," Ciel offered. Sebastian frowned.

"You are not merely fatigued. You're hurt. I can smell your blood from here. Let me take you to the townhouse and I'll be able to tend to your wound."

"No," Ciel narrowed his eyes stubbornly. "I'm going to walk. You take care of Madam Red's body. Bring it to Undertaker. I want the funeral to take place as soon as possible. Then…" he hesitated. Would Sebastian see it as another weakness?

But no matter. This was the least he could do.

"Bring the body of Mary Kelly, too," he said. "Tell Undertaker to mask the wounds. Then try to find if she has anyone left. If not, we will arrange the burial for her as well. Inform the servants and the rest of the family about Madam Red."

Sebastian stared at him, not in a hurry to move.

"Well?" Ciel snapped. "It's an order!"

"Young Master, you cannot possibly walk home from here. Not in this state and not during this time of the night. This is East End. You have a lot of enemies and you're bleeding. You are my priority. I apologise but I cannot let you go alone. Let me take you home and I'll return here immediately afterwards, doing what you asked."

"No."

They glared at each other. Sebastian's gaze grew scarily dark, and with each beat of silence, Ciel's heart accelerated.

He knew he was being illogical. He knew walking such distance alone was dangerous, but despite understanding it, he still wasn't inclined to agree with Sebastian.

He could do it. He would prove that he's strong. If Sebastian truly had no idea what feelings meant, it was even more important to show to him that despite occasional flaws, Ciel remained the person he had concluded the contract with.

"If you're done sooner than I return," Ciel said finally, when Sebastian still refused to move, "you can come after me and get me home. Until then, do what I said. Take care of the bodies."

Sebastian was silent for several more seconds. Then he smiled.

"Yes, my lord," he murmured. He picked up Madam Red's body carefully, as if truly worried about disrespecting her in any way, and then he was gone.

Ciel breathed out, wiping his forehead with his hand. Throwing the last glance at the blood, the only reminder of what had transpired, he began his lonely journey.

Only it wasn't lonely for long. Sebastian emerged less than a minute later, holding his arms open in invitation. Ciel gaped.

"Don't tell me you did what I ordered already!" he exclaimed. "You couldn't have possibly—"

"Everything is taken care of," Sebastian assured him. "I moved the bodies. Undertaker isn't sleeping, so there's no need to waste time on waking him up."

Ciel eyed him suspiciously, not sure he could believe that. He opened his mouth to ask, but Sebastian was evidently tired of arguing. In one arrogant movement, he swooped him up and dashed through the night London.

With an effort, Ciel swallowed angry protests.

He really was tired. Of everything and everyone, but especially of himself.

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The next days passed in a blur. Ciel remembered arriving to the townhouse: Sebastian began to fuss over him immediately, treating his wound and bringing him several glasses of milk with honey. When the numbness finally disappeared, Ciel realised how badly his arm was hurt. It burned ferociously, making him unable to sleep. In fact, it got worse with every hour, frustrating both him and Sebastian, who was staring at the torn flesh as if it had personally offended him. At some point, Sebastian brought him antibiotics, and after that, everything went hazy.

Ciel barely remembered the first day. He slept through it almost entirely. On the second one, he woke up delirious, seeing Madam Red's cruel smile and Mary Kelly's accusing dead eyes in every corner of his room. Sebastian came when he screamed, but when he reached forward to touch his forehead, Ciel jerked away so harshly that he nearly fell off the bed.

"Stay away from me," he hissed. "You… you're a shell. An empty shell. I don't want to see you."

"My lord?" Sebastian looked flabbergasted. Ciel knew he was saying something wrong, that he was going to regret it, but in this state, he didn't care.

"You are pathetic," he spat viciously. "You may try to pretend being a human for as long as you want but it will never work. You don't simply lack emotions, you don't even understand them. How old are you, five hundred? A thousand? More? And the most dramatic thing that has ever happened to you was kitchen troubles at our house? That's embarrassing. You're like… like…" he thought for a moment. "Like an oven! You serve your functions well enough, but when you aren't needed, you turn dumb, empty, and useless. Just a thing that takes up space. You don't understand regret, you don't understand attachment, you don't understand beauty. You don't understand anything but mindless killing, and I'm sick of you! I might just as well turn you on and off, depending on when I need some violence!"

Sebastian stared silently. He looked detached, completely disconnected from reality. Whenever he gained this look, it meant that he was so out of his depth that he wasn't sure what facial expression to take. He never looked less human than on such occasions.

Ciel laughed derisively, throwing his head back. He laughed harder when Sebastian settled on a 'caring butler' mask, pushing him into the pillows and wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"You need to rest, Young Master," he said. "You don't make any sense."

"I don't make any sense?" Ciel snorted rudely. "It's you who doesn't make any sense. Who even understands you?"

"With all respect, I could say the same thing to you. An oven? Really?"

"Well, you are."

"I suppose humans succumb to the influence of pain medication with ease that would seem surprising to anyone with a stronger build. You have a fever, Master."

"Fever, no fever, doesn't matter. You disgust me. Go away."

Sebastian let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Madam Red's funeral is the day after tomorrow," he said slowly. "The Midfords don't expect you to attend, they think you're struggling with a flu and are too weak to recover. Do you intend to prove them right?"

"I'm not weak!" Ciel exploded immediately. "And you aren't the one to talk about weakness. If the need to clean up the mess after the servants is the most tragic event in your life, how can you even tell you're strong? Or are you so dumb that you think your physical powers are everything? The thing that experiences nothing cannot judge others. I think you are weak. That's why I don't want to have anything to do with you."

Sebastian paused, and even though Ciel's mind was swimming, he could tell his words finally hit their mark. Outrage began to emanate from Sebastian in thick and cold ways, and Ciel grinned gleefully, pleased with the reaction he'd gotten.

Not saying another word, Sebastian finished his usual ritual and left, slamming the door shut.

"Add this moment into your collection of the most 'dramatic' events," Ciel called out. No response followed, so he nestled in his pillows and closed his eyes.

He needed to get better. He needed to be present at the funeral.

He had to say one last goodbye.

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His fever was gone in the morning. His mind was much clearer and his arm stopped feeling like it was about to fall off, so Ciel ate his whole breakfast and then stared at Sebastian, who kept staring at him.

"What?" he asked finally. "Is there anything you'd like to report?"

Sebastian titled his head.

"The funeral of Madam Red takes place tomorrow," he said neutrally. "Are you planning to attend?"

"Tomorrow?" Ciel frowned. "Who is organising it?"

"The Midfords."

"Do they know anything about what happened? What did you tell them?"

"I told everyone that you have a flu," Sebastian was watching him with an inscrutable expression. "Lord Randall is aware that Jack the Ripper has been dealt with and that you participated in it. The details of everything else, including Madam Red's cause of death, are vague enough to keep everyone guessing."

"Good," Ciel carefully pulled off the bandage, examining his wound. "It'll be easy to cover it up, I'll just have to be careful about using my arm." Then he grimaced. "I hope Elisabeth won't try to suffocate me. I won't be even able to fight back."

"Don't remove the bandage yet," Sebastian rebuked, tying it back. "The salve must be absorbed by your skin first."

Ciel rolled his eyes but paused when a familiar scent of roses hit his nostrils. Inhaling deeper, he realised it was coming from Sebastian's hands. He raised his brows in confusion.

"Did you go to the manor and worked in the garden instead of Finnie?" he asked incredulously. Sebastian blinked before understanding flashed in his eyes. He shrugged, though rather uncertainly.

"I had some matters to attend to," he said vaguely. "Please don't touch the bandage and remain in bed. You have to gain some more strength before going out tomorrow."

Then he left, with Ciel staring after him in bewilderment.

Sebastian was acting strangely today. Had something happened? Ciel had some blurry recollections of them talking last night, but he doubted it was anything special. Nothing stood out.

Maybe Sebastian was reacting to the weakness he'd displayed right before Madam Red's murder. This would have to be addressed sooner or later… though a part of Ciel hoped that Sebastian would ignore the fact that he had a gun in favour of the murder of Mary Kelly he had all but sanctioned.

A weak rumble of guilt reverberated through his chest, and Ciel tried to squash it.

It wasn't like her murder mattered. And she had helped them put an end to Jack the Ripper, so it was for a worthy cause.

Sighing, he curled up in his bed, watching the sky through the window.

Guilt didn't stick to him. He would get rid of the effects of this one, too. Eventually.

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Next morning, they were almost at the church when something occurred to him.

People tended to be buried in nightgowns. Knowing the Midfords, they would have chosen a standard white colour. Simple and unassuming. Something Madam Red would hate down to her very soul.

"Take me to Harrods," Ciel called, knowing that Sebastian would hear him. The carriage changed its direction, so he leaned against his seat, staring at the dark ceiling.

Mary Kelly also had to be buried today. He had promised to buy her tea, but instead, he would bring flowers for her grave.

It was better than nothing, he supposed.

At the shop, Ciel chose a bouffant red gown. It cost a fortune, but it was elegant yet extravagant enough for Madam Red to like it. Sebastian didn't comment on it, keeping his face blank.

"We're late," he said instead. Ciel ignored him.

He entered the church when the service was already reaching its completion. There was silence before everyone broke into whispers. All gazes went to him, assessing and disapproving, but Ciel didn't pay them any attention. He was focused on the coffin standing in the centre.

Madam Red looked very small and bleak. Even her red hair wasn't bright enough, like it faded along with her life.

How could anyone see her and think that such outfit would be appropriate? That she would want to be seen like this?

Caringly, Ciel covered her body with the dress he'd brought, strange and unfamiliar tenderness singing in him, making him feel unusually soft.

"Neither white flowers nor plain clothes suit you," he said quietly. He didn't care if anyone else heard him. This was her day. This was for her.

Detaching the red rose from his jacket, he placed it in her hair, admiring the way it lit up.

"What suits you is the red of passion… the colour of liquorice burning the landscape." The colour she had hated but which she had managed to turn into her strength. Whatever she had done, she was family. She was family and he loved her. Even if he hadn't known it on time.

Ciel leaned closer, shutting his eyes and allowing himself one last weakness.

"Aunt Anne," he murmured. He hadn't called her like this in… how long? Maybe since that month.

Something soft and floral touched his cheek. Ciel turned and froze, seeing red. A sea of red.

The petals of roses. They flowed through the open door, bathing the entire church in the ethereal reddish glow. They kept coming and coming, and when Ciel looked, he saw Sebastian and Undertaker standing in front of a strange glass carriage. Or was it a casket? It was filled with rose petals to the brim, and the wind was gently guiding them forward, waves and waves of them.

No, no the wind. Something else. Some supernatural power that only Sebastian possessed.

His hands had smelled like roses last morning. He must have spent hours collecting this insane quantity of flowers and then separating them into petals, and he engaged Undertaker so he would help him bring this flower-filled carriage here.

Something warm and pathetically grateful spread through Ciel's chest, and he lowered his head, looking at Madam Red again.

Sebastian had done it. Why? Was it for him? Or was it just his taste for aesthetics?

The warmth lingered. Ciel closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the floral scent around him. He preferred white roses, but he couldn't deny that these ones smelled wonderful. They reminded him of her, of her scent and her laughter. This was probably the last time he could recall them so vividly.

"Rest in peace, Madam Red," he whispered.

Rest in peace.

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He didn't stop to talk to anyone on his way out. He didn't acknowledge Sebastian's gesture as well, not because he didn't appreciate it but because he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think about it, either.

"Lau wants to see you," Sebastian said evenly. Ciel grimaced.

"Was he the one who handled the consequences?"

"Yes. That is the essence of our cooperation with him."

"Fine," Ciel squared his shoulders. He would have preferred to talk later, but more weakness wasn't something he could afford. "Let's go."

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Fortunately, the talk with Lau didn't take long. In an hour, Ciel was already standing at the cemetery, near the fresh grave of Mary Kelly. It was simple but it had a gravestone. It didn't look any different from the graves of other people buried here.

"It seems that she was an immigrant," he said contemplatively. "We could not find anyone to take care of her body." Sebastian had tried, but in the end, they couldn't even be sure that Mary Jane was her real name.

Twenty five years. Not old enough to die.

"That's why the kind Earl had me do her make-up, and went as far as to arrange a grave for her," Undertaker cooed, brushing his finger against Ciel's cheek. Ciel frowned.

"It wasn't out of kindness," he said. The last thing he needed was for Sebastian to hear this. Why was Undertaker still here, anyway? "That night, if we had prioritised saving this woman's life, there would have been many ways to do it. However, I decided against it. Instead, I prioritised the capture of Jack the Ripper. I knew that I wouldn't be able to save her, and in that knowledge, I stood by as she was killed. Just as I let my own flesh and blood die." He fell silent, hoping Sebastian heard and understood what he'd tried to say.

It wasn't weakness that had stopped him from killing Madam Red. He had given an order and she was dead now. The exact circumstances didn't matter.

Maybe Sebastian would buy it. His words did hold some truth, at least in terms of Mary Jane. It's not that Ciel felt sympathy for her, but a small worm of guilt was still eating at him, both because of himself and Madam Red.

He had chosen against saving Mary Kelly. His relative had murdered her. If not for them, she would still be alive.

In a week, it would no longer affect him. In a month, he wouldn't even remember her. But this was today, and today, Ciel felt guilty.

"Are you having regrets?" Undertaker grinned.

"I'm not. Jack the Ripper is no more. Queen Victoria's distress has been lifted."

He had been hoping the topic would be put to rest after this, but no. Undertaker was annoyingly tenacious today.

"Victoria, huh?" he drawled. "Can't say I like her one bit. She just watches from high above and leaves all the difficult matters to you, Earl."

Ciel bristled instinctively, raising his hand and showing off his ring. Why did Sebastian and Undertaker both show so much disrespect to the Queen? Handling Sebastian was a chore already, he wasn't willing to tolerate such remarks from someone else, too.

"This is the duty our family has shouldered. It is something that has been inherited from generation to generation along with this ring," he said shortly.

"That ring is like a collar," Undertaker retorted, trying to grab his hand. "It connects you to the Queen through a chain that is just called "duty"."

Now he was truly crossing the line.

"That was my decision to make!" Ciel snapped, jerking back, but Undertaker grabbed him by the tie, pulling him close. From shock and indignation, all words fled him, and he just stared in silent and stupefied horror, unable to believe he was being treated so frivolously.

"I pray that collar does not lop off your head one day," Undertaker declared. Finally overcoming his stupor, Ciel tried to free himself, and at the same second, the hold on his tie loosened. Losing balance, he crashed into Sebastian, whose hands immediately wrapped around him.

"That would be too boring," Undertaker added, thrusting a bouquet of white flowers into his hands and turning to leave, waving his shovel goodbye. "If anything ever happens again, please do come by the shop. If it's you and your butler, I'll welcome you any time."

"What's gotten into him today?" Ciel barked, pulling himself from Sebastian and adjusting his jacket. "That was… that was…"

"He's a strange man," Sebastian remarked. "But I don't believe he poses any danger to you."

"Danger would be preferable to his lack of respect!" Ciel scowled angrily, glaring at the retreating back. Sebastian hummed.

"Would you like me to find another informant?"

The temptation was strong, but Ciel forced himself to shake his head.

"No. You know we need him. His knowledge of death is invaluable."

Sebastian nodded, bowing his head a little.

In a while, Ciel faced the grave, putting the flowers on the friable soil. The guilt twitched again, a little stronger this time, reminding him that he was going to leave and return to his home while Mary Kelly would remain lying here, silent and unfeeling. She lived in disgrace and she died in disgrace. Maybe if she had been given a chance, she would have changed something in her life for the better.

Sebastian put a coat on his shoulders from behind, smoothing the wrinkles.

"How kind of you," he murmured. His voice was mocking, and Ciel instantly tensed.

Great. They were going to have this conversation now. The day wasn't close to being over yet he already felt drained.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he said sternly. "I'm not kind."

"Oh, but you are," Sebastian leaned towards him, still holding him by the shoulders. His smile, his eyes, his face — everything reflected chiding amusement. "If not, then you are weak."

Ciel jolted as if stung.

"Bastard!" he growled, even as everything inside him sank. The flowers had been the result of Sebastian's love for aesthetics, then. Nothing was forgiven or forgotten.

"Why didn't you shoot?" Sebastian asked bluntly, and Ciel flinched before he could stop himself. "'Just as I let my own flesh and blood die'?" Sebastian mimicked, his voice growing even more derisive. There was also danger there, slim but cruel, warning that any misstep could result in something irrevocable. "Lies do not impress me. If you had intended to shoot her, you would have shot her. However, you hesitated. Even if I had told you to, you would not have taken up your gun. Why?" Now, a contemptuous sneer decorated his face, too, with a complete and genuine lack of understanding shining in his eyes.

He truly didn't get it. He was baffled and scornful, and he didn't get it.

"Were you afraid to kill Madam with your own hands?" Sebastian questioned when Ciel failed to reply. "You could kill a woman you had no previous acquaintance with, but you could not kill someone close to you?"

Just as he'd thought, Sebastian was an empty, detached machine incapable even of basic comprehension of emotional complexity. At least this time, the confirmation of his thoughts didn't crush him, though it still left him bitter.

"I didn't shoot because that's your job," Ciel said sharply. He'd used this explanation several times before and it always worked. It would work again. Sebastian took his protector responsibilities seriously.

As he'd predicted, Sebastian straightened, some amusement melting from his face. Disgusted and unable to keep looking at him, Ciel turned away.

"I thought you would protect me with your life," he uttered. At this point, these words sounded rehearsed, but it was for the better. It suited the role he had to play with Sebastian. "That's why I didn't shoot. Our contract states that, until my goal is fulfilled, you will become my shield and you'll protect me without letting me die. Demons do not have a sense of loyalty or personal beliefs, right?" the question was rhetorical as he didn't intend to wait for Sebastian's answer. He knew what it'd be, what it had always been. "All they have are principles. That's why, in order to fulfil your principles, you will protect me no matter what. Isn't that correct?"

"But why did you stop me, then?" Sebastian wondered. All traces of amusement were gone entirely now, with only bewilderment staying.

Ciel considered the possible answer, debating whether he should lie or not. Eventually, he settled on an incomplete truth.

"Because when Madam was trying to kill me, I saw hesitation in her eyes," he said softly. Hesitation and love. She loved him too much to kill him, even if her feelings were motivated by who his family was, not by what he was like as a person. "She wasn't capable of killing me, her kin. That's what I thought." Ciel closed his eyes, fighting the images that rose under his eyelids.

Her death affected him, he couldn't deny it. But what was done was done. He would move on, and he wouldn't let himself remain affected for long. Because he'd already lost everything and everyone once, and he didn't return to reunite with them. He returned for revenge.

"If you hesitate for even a moment, it can be fatal," he added quieter, "just like in chess. She lost her next move through that hesitation. That's all there was to it."

And she hadn't been the only one to hesitate. Ciel hesitated, too. It just her hesitation had killed her sooner.

He could not let the same thing happen to him again. He learned from his mistakes. From now on, no one would take him aback and keep him from making correct decisions.

A new sense of steely resolve filled him, chasing away the weakness, and Ciel turned abruptly, heading towards the exit from the cemetery.

"That's why I will not hesitate," he finished darkly, a warning to Sebastian, an oath to himself.

He knew his words had the desired effect even without having to look. He sensed Sebastian's emotions like he did his own — though come to think of it, what was there to sense?

"That's how it has to be," Sebastian told him, and Ciel's lips jerked in a short-lived grim smile. It almost sounded like Sebastian was trying to convince him. "You should use your pawns in the best way possible to live on. It means using Madam, myself, and all the other pawns within your reach. Even if the corpses of pawns pile up beneath the throne, the game is over only once the king is gone."

Ciel stopped, staring at the silent graves.

Sebastian was right. His inability to feel didn't diminish the validity of his beliefs.

Ciel would sacrifice anyone if needed. He'd given up his soul already — making more sacrifices would be nothing in comparison to that.

"I will not stop moving forward," he swore. "I will not regret a single step I have taken." Today was the last day when he would grieve. He'd murdered a woman, he watched his aunt being killed, and worst of all, he'd lost yet another illusion about Sebastian he'd so foolishly constructed.

This wouldn't happen again. After all this, he was prepared for anything.

Ciel faced Sebastian, watching him dispassionately.

"That's why I order you: don't betray me and don't leave my side. No matter what."

It was a new pact of a sort since for the first time, he had absolutely no illusions left. They had been disappearing one by one over this time, and now, finally, Ciel could see Sebastian unmasked, down to his empty but useful core.

He needed his strength. He wouldn't need anything else.

He thought Sebastian understood him because he bent in a whole-hearted bow, reminding Ciel of the first time he'd knelt for him. They reached an understanding then, and they were reaching one now. To reap the benefits of their agreement, they would ignore each other's past mistakes, focusing on what was coming next.

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian promised him. Ciel studied him with a long, intense look before nodding and moving to leave the cemetery.

This was for the best. The naïve and innocent chapter of his story was closed now. It was time to proceed to the next one.

A/N:

Manon, thank you, I'm happy you're enjoying the story!

Aleta Wolff, thank you, I'm glad you like the story despite not shipping Sebaciel! I'm asexual and aromantic, so I never imagine myself with characters and feel much more invested in how two compatible people/creatures might end up together :D With Sebastian and Ciel, it'll take ages, though.

22rubens, ah, thanks so much for your wonderful worlds! Knowing that you enjoy my writing makes me so happy. According to my plan (at this point — it might change later depending on how things go), Ciel is going to realize he loves Sebastian seconds before his 'death' in S1, when Sebastian's about to eat his soul. He'll be struggling with figuring out what the hell is going on before that, too unsure about this feeling. The attraction will take him even longer to figure out. Sebastian doesn't see it coming from him as well — he's too used to seeing Ciel as a person who despises and scoffs at physical impulses. So these two idiots will spend ages before they understand where they are with each other :D

SimplyOneHellOfAWeeb, thank you and sorry for such a long wait! I don't have a set schedule and it really depends on the circumstances. I prefer to update once a month in most cases, but this time, my relative died and things went out of control for a while. So it's hard to tell for sure!

HillaryPotter, thanks, I hope you'll enjoy/enjoyed the new chapter! There'll be enough Sebastian and Ciel's interactions for sure))

Best of World, ah, thank you! So happy you think so. Hope you'll keep enjoying this story!

Guest, thanks! And no worries, RL is vicious in the majority of cases :( I'm glad you liked this chapter, and yes, I know what you mean. Some emotional revelations are going to be repeated since Ciel and Sebastian are stuck in a model like two steps forward, thee steps back, but other than that, I hope to focus on their growth.

Angela, not exactly: Ciel is going to subdue his feelings soon, and he'll keep them that way for a while. Sebastian, in turn, will be endlessly confused at Ciel blowing hot and cold :D