Chapter III: Till Kingdom Come

Warning: A bit dark this chapter- nothing graphic, but there are mild mentions of gore. Also, this fic is gen! As in there are NO PAIRINGS at all, no romance of any sort.

The following weeks in the Phantomhive household were no less stressful, Harrison discovered. In fact, chaos was the norm in this household- though how the house manages to remain standing is anyone's guess. If it wasn't a laundry mishap, it was a gardening issue. If it wasn't a gardening issue, it was an explosion. If it wasn't an explosion, it was cats stuffed in random cupboards and closets.

Really, he knew that Hell's beasts can be quite… temperamental, but Malphas' obsession with all things cat related was simply too much. Especially since Ciel is allergic to cats and has asthma to boot, the tutor thought crossly.

A loud rumble shook the dust off the top of the library's ancient bookshelves, and Harrison could only barely suppress a sigh. With practiced ease, he slipped his metal bookmark over his latest read- one doubtlessly thick enough to be a pillow- and got up. He dusted off his clothing and made his way downstairs, undoubtedly to confront the latest crisis in the Phantomhive household.

"What is it this time?" He grumbled, sneezing several times in a row. Someone has to run damage control around here, and unfortunately, that someone just happens to be him.

"What is going on here?" The archangel asked with a huff, a hand on his hip and another around his book. While his eyes were sharp as always, his nose reacted first this time.

"And what in the name of the Mother Mary is that?" He pointed, almost-gaping at the bubble vat of purple goo in Bard's hands. It takes a very special situation for him to use the Mother's name in passing, and this certainly calls for it.

"That is my extra special straight forward home cooking tactic!" Bard announced, puffing out his chest like a particularly prideful pigeon.

"A tactic for what?" the tutor asked, momentarily baffled by the carpet of mouse traps and the army of cats.

"Rats!" Finny chimed in cheerfully while holding up one of the many stray felines that Sebastian regularly feeds. The animal meowed in agreement.

"Rats," he echoed back, feeling quite tired all of a sudden. "And the mouse traps…? They are for mice, not rats. Not to mention, you didn't even bait any of them. You need rat poison for rats." Though knowing Bard's "homecooking," it might as well be the same thing.

"If we catch them a second time, we won't let them go!" May Ren reasoned. Behind her, the other staff nodded.

Harrison automatically felt one hand go up to pinch his brows. She's more likely to catch her foot in one of those traps and not a rat, he thought. Not to mention Ciel probably doesn't even know of all this mess, given that he is currently conversing with the top figures of the underworld at the moment. Or rather, playing a very boring, dimly lit of billiards, in a way that only stereotypical villains would.

"Tanaka-san…" he turned to the only reasonable person on the payroll for support, only to find the elderly butler once again reverted to his more senile self. It must come with age, he thought, or perhaps old trauma to the brain.

And that's when Harrison metaphorically threw up his hands and vowed to toss the situation to someone else to handle- and there was only one person he'd want to hand this to.

"Where is Sebastian?" Harrison's lips turned down. He was not getting paid enough to deal with this.

"… What are all of you doing?" Sebastian asked, surveying the chaos with unimpressed eyes. He turned to look at his archnemesis, who only shrugged apathetically.

"This is not my problem. Don't look at me- I didn't do this," the angel snorted from his spot by the window. He flipped a page idly with one hand and casually ducked a flying mouse trap. He wasn't paid to deal with this. He has metaphorically wiped his hands of the matter. Nope- not his work.

"And you would allow this to continue because…?" Malphas asked, more amused than anything else.

"It's your job to handle pests, isn't it?" Harrison said in reply. Of course, he meant more than just the common type of pest. None of the lot in that billiards room is innocent by any means- including the young master. He was obliged to make sure Ciel does not die an early death, but that does not mean he approves of what the child does on a daily basis. The underground world is no place for a child- it was far, far too dangerous (a concept which does not seem to scare Ciel in the slightest- that, or he had far too much trust in his contract.)

"I would suppose so." Sebastian said after a far-too-long moment of contemplation.

"Sebastian," Ciel turned around the corner and walked down the hallway. His child sized, heeled boots clacked on the stone tiles.

The lordling must have won his game of billiards then, Harrison supposed. Truthfully, he wasn't surprised' Ciel is surprisingly adept at mathematics and has a quick mind.

"Tonight, escort Duke Randall to his mansion by carriage and leave tonight's plans open," Ciel commanded, nonplussed even at the sight of utter chaos in front of him- it only happens every other hour or so.

Sebastian, being well versed to the Phantomhive code, narrowed his eyes imperceivably- as did the angel next to him. Leave the plans open- Ciel clearly expects something to happen- an ambush, perhaps? Projected time is probably in the late afternoon or evening. And to involve Lord Randall- the Head of Phantomhive intends to sink his teeth into something worthy of public arrest.

"Understood," Sebastian smiled. "Then when I finish preparations for the carriage, I will bring up some afternoon tea to your room. I have prepared apple and raisin dip for today's snack. I will bring it to you when it is baked, so please just wait a bit."

"I do hope you are not planning to skip this afternoon's lesson, Young Master," the tutor scolded half-heartedly, turning his attention from the tome in his lap to the child next to him. Will it be in the afternoon, or at night?

"Of course not," Ciel flipped his hand back. "I simply have business to take care of." At night, was the reply.

Harrison's suspicions began growing in the back of his mind. This had better not be something too dangerous (again), or else heads will roll. It's just a matter of whose head will be rolling.

"Alright," he shrugged, seemingly relaxed and easygoing. "Do keep in mind that your deadline for your Latin exercises will not be delayed because of this."

Ciel scowled but did not say anything in reply. "Oh, and do take care of this mess- it is becoming quite a nuisance." The lordling waved a head casually as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

"Understood," Sebastian bowed slightly as Ciel promptly strolled out of the hallway and back to his study.

"Now then…" the demonic butler turned to face the battlefield of mousetraps and men. With ease, he swooped down with the grace of a crow and promptly picked up the rodents. "Now, with that taken care of, please stop playing around and do your tasks. We will be having guests tonight."

"Wow," Bard huffed, out of breath from his brief scuffle with rodents.

Harrison shrugged and got off the window ledge. Now that the commotion has been settled, he can once again return back to the library without fear of a dust avalanche collapsing on him.

On his way, he passed by the little lord's study.

"I should probably check if his essay from yesterday is done or not," he mused. That little brat owed him an essay on the various deeds of Catherine the Great. Russian or otherwise, monarchy is monarchy, and knowledge is power.

Politely, he knocked once on the great oaken doors. There was no reply. With a frown, he knocked again- this time more loudly and a bit quicker. Still, there was no reply.

Without knocking a third time, he shot a quick alohamora towards the lock of the doors and burst into the room, his metal bookmark pulled out and ready to be used as a blade.

Instead of an assailant, he only found an open window and scattered papers lying on the ground.

"Shit," he cursed, sending out his aura to check the peripheries of the Phantomhive mansion for any presence of the young lordling.

Quickly, the angel flew down grand stairs at the entrance and burst into the kitchen.

"Sebastian, Ciel is gone," he shouted. This was not the tutor Harrison Crowe talking- this was Michael, the archangel in command of the Divine Armies.

Sebastian blinked. "The young lord has disappeared?" He asked in false concern. "And I have not even finished baking his tart yet."

"Forget your tart, you- go find him!" Michael said exasperatedly. He shook the demon by the neck and bodily dragged him out of the kitchen. Malphas apparently doesn't understand the concept of priorities.

"Now, there is no need for that," Malphas said, red eyes flashing as he gripped Michael's wrist tightly. "And here I thought that angels aren't supposed to use excessive violence."

The air around Michael shifted momentarily and grew heavier. "I would call this necessary, not excessive. I would have thought that as a leashed dog, you'd be more concerned with someone stealing your meal."

Without going further into the confrontation, he let go of the demon. "This is no time to be arguing. We should hurry." Harrison said. He knew that something like this would happen. He should have known not to leave the little lord alone; the moment he turns his back, the troublesome child gets kidnapped. Sloppy, he mentally berated himself.

Eyes narrowed, Malphas followed the angel up the stairs. While he could easily start a fight with his most hated enemy over the perceived slight of being called a dog, the angel did have a point- someone out there was trying to rob him of his rightful contract, and that will not be tolerated. It was a point of pride for him- perhaps for both of them.

On the second floor, the demon surveyed the empty study with keen eyes, nostrils flaring. The wind carried away the majority of the scent, but a little still remained- enough for tracking purposed. Granted, he could easily call on the Faustian contract to locate his lost master, but that will only be used as a last resort.

"Whoever did this has a very fast getaway vehicle and used a fast-acting drug- chloroform, probably," Harrison noted, worry lines creasing his forehead. For now, he reverted back into his more human personality, though his vast power was humming just beneath his skin. He leaned with his back against the wall, keeping a wary eye on both the entrance and the window of the study. "I checked on Ciel not long after he retreated to his study, and I could not sense his presence even in the peripheral borders of the property."

"And the door was unlocked?" Sebastian asked pointedly.

"No- I broke in," was the curt reply. That earned a raised eyebrow from the butler.

"Magic, remember? An unlocking charm is child's play to me," the tutor snorted and raised his hands. Sparks of emerald flew between his fingers.

"Ah, yes, your little cheat," Sebastian smiled, revealing one pointed fang.

"It's not a cheat," Harrison sniffed. The demon has made his opinion regarding magic plenty clear over the centuries. "It's a tool."

"Says the Magical," Sebastian rebutted while digging through the papers scattered around the room for a stronger scent.

"All is fair in love and war," Harrison replied. He made his way to the open window and looked beyond the horizon- the sun was just beginning to set.

"This is neither love nor war," Sebastian pointed out. "Unless you wish that it would be so?"

"Surely, you jest," Harrison scoffed. "And your jokes are as bad as ever." Then, he paused and smiled slowly. "It was war the moment they messed with my mission."

Looking at the sadistic glint in Harrison's- no, Michael's- deep green eyes, Sebastian was suddenly reminded of how angels and demons fundamentally weren't all that different at all. Certainly, Michael's wrath could easily match that of any demon's.

"Mi- Mister Sebastian! Just now, in the entrance hall- a letter," May Ren's shout cut through the tension of the moment as both supernatural beings turned to look at her.

"Who is it addressed to?" Sebastian asked while adjusting his tie.

May Ren adjusted her glasses and blinked hard. "Um, it's addressed to Sir Ciel Phantomhive and Valet," she read off the front of the envelope with some difficulty.

"They got the young master's title wrong," Harrison noted; his keen eyes darted to a small glint outside the windows. He kicked out with his left foot, catching Sebastian's ankle, at the same time that May Ren spotted the danger and shoved the butler down onto the floor.

The bullet shot through the air and broke through the windows. In less than a heart beat, Harrison leapt out the broken window in a blur to give chase.

"What the...!" Bard and Finny dropped their work and rushed up to the second floor the moment they heard the gunshot go off.

"May Ren, the letter…?" Sebastian asked calmly from his position on the floor.

"Oh!" She leapt up, her face turning a shade of red that clashed with her hair, and handed him the letter. Sebastian skimmed over the letter once before crumpling it up. "What an undignified invitation," he noted mildly.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Finny and Bard shouted, worry and concern etched on their faces.

"Oh, it was nothing much," Sebastian said with a smile and straightened out his clothes.

Just then, Harrison leapt back in through the second floor window, dragging with him two squirming, choking bodies. He was perched precariously on the edge; his shoes crunched on the broken glass. He grasped the two men by the throat as he dragged them into the house.

"Got them," Harrison said, cold and merciless as he tossed his captives against the wall. Behind him, Bard raised an eyebrow at the rough treatment. Who knew the thin noble kid had this side to him? Logically, he knew that no one from the Phantomhive household was normal, but this was a bit surprising to see. He thought that the kid was fairly harmless- as far as harmless went in here.

"Well? Talk." Harrison crossed his arms as he waited for the two lackeys to stop choking. "And don't even think about running. I'm sure you understand, right?"

Sebastian looked on with some amusement- clearly, whatever the archangel did, it was enough to break the poor mortals completely.

"The Ferro Family's Azzuro Vener! He's setting up a hideout north of East End!" They shouted hoarsely and scrambled back against the wall.

"Is that so?" Harrison's tone was deceptively mild as he adjusted his cufflinks. "I hope that he's expecting a visit from us then."

"So, you are going to bring Ciel back?" Harrison crossed his arms and leaned back against one of the pillars in the hallway near Ciel's study. The afternoon sun casted a long shadow across the checkered tiles of the floor. The two men were unceremoniously tied up and tossed into the basement, where Bard and Finny would guard them closely. At that point, they were almost relieved to be handed over to someone else. Their gun, car, and phone were all confiscated as evidence- "for the Yard," Harrison said.

"I suppose," Sebastian tiled his head nonchalantly.

"You had better," Harrison scoffed, "or else you'll be going to sleep without dinner," he smirked.

And of course, there was no question about who was going to be the one to knock him out. There was only one person currently present who could, after all.

The demon sighed, "If I must," before opening one of the unbroken hallway windows.

Harrison's eyes flashed. "In that case, I shall come to check on you shortly after dinner preparations… In case you're feeling particularly inefficient today."

Sebastian steepled his fingers. "I'm sure that won't be necessary," was the expected reply.

The angel smiled, his actions disguising his turbulent emotions. "I must insist. I suppose the tart that you made will have to be served as dessert?"

Sebastian frowned but argued no further. "The recipe for dinner is pinned on top of the stove- the ingredients have not been prepared yet."

"Alright," Harrison nodded and made his way for the kitchens.

Sebastian watched the angel's steps until he turned a corner and disappeared down the staircase. How interesting- the archangel was getting precariously attached, and in such a short amount of time as well. Or perhaps he is simply prideful.

"So the young master has been kidnapped?" Bard asked, biting into his cigarette. He leaned on the kitchen counters, where half a dozen illegal arms were easily within reach.

Harrison blinked owlishly at him before answering, "Yes."

"And?" Bard prodded. "Aren't you gonna get him back?"

Harrison turned away from him and walked to the stove, where he tore off the recipe that Sebastian had pinned. "I am- but dinner has to be cooked. Sebastian is in the process of retrieving the Young Master. I have confidence in his ability, so I'll make sure that dinner is cooked and ready to eat upon the Young Master's return." As much as he loathed admitting it, the demon was a capable fighter.

Even Bard couldn't argue with Sebastian's efficiency, so he just settled for grumbling into his cigarette instead.

As the tutor gathered various ingredients around the kitchen, Bard said, "What you did back there…"

"Yes?" Harrison paused, his arms full of freshly picked celery and herbs.

"That was pretty cool- I didn't know you had it in ya." Bard grinned good-naturedly and rubbed his nose.

Momentarily surprised, Harrison blinked. A smile tugged at his lips- "I'm sure you know by now that no one hired by the Young Master is by any means normal. Why would you be surprised?"

"Hey, I'll have ya know that I'm plenty normal," Bard joked, shoving the teen slightly.

In reply, the younger man merely laughed and began preparing the vegetables.

"I guess I just didn't expect it," Bard shrugged. "You don't have that look- the look of a killer."

"It's not wise to judge a book by its cover, Chef," Harrison merely said humbly.

Bard barked a laugh- "Wise isn't what I'm known for, kid." His laugh sounded just a tad bitter, the angel noted. An old wound, perhaps?

The angel paused in his cooking and really looked at Bard. "The Crowes aren't particularly… clean, history wise- for nobles anyways. They've always worked closely with the Phantomhives. It's not surprising that they'd train their children in preparation of that."

Bard said nothing- he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out. "That young, huh?"

"I'm older than I look," Harrison grinned. That was an understatement for sure. "Besides, the Young Master is much younger than I am, and he's competent enough."

Some days, he didn't feel all that comfortable with Ciel's chosen path either, but this life is his, and treating his liege like a child- underestimating him as such- was not wise.

"So, help me with the vegetables, Chef?" Harrison said after a moment of silence. "Dinner's not going to cook itself," he joked and held out a stick of celery.

Bard blinked at the offered vegetable before laughing and getting up to help.

Meanwhile, there was complete chaos at the Ferro Family hideout. The lack of news from the two incompetent messengers had the head honcho nervous and afraid- nothing delivers a message like good ol' silence.

"Fortify all entrances! Not even one rat gets in! That watchdog for that damn bunch of nobles must be on his way here! Don't just stand there- stop him no matter what! Hurry!" Azzuro shouts, rattled beyond belief.

"My, I must say, this is a fabulous mansion- nothing like the hideout I expected," Sebastian noted, calmly strolling up to the staircase like he owned the mansion.

"What the hell's with you? Where th' hell'd you come from?" Immediately, the hired hands reached for their guns.

Sebastian mentally grinned. He loved it when mortals were stupid and had no clue about their place in the world. Oh how sweet their ignorance is. "Oh my! In any case, you seem to be busy. Is there anyone-" he said, seemingly not noticing that there were half a dozen rifles pointed at him.

"What do you want? Where do you belong to?" One of them yelled in his face.

It was preposterous, to think that anyone would own him, Malphas thought darkly behind the mask that he wore. Perhaps a contracted demon for some time, yes, but he was not a possession. "Ah, sorry for the late introduction. I'm the Phantomhive household's butler." He smiled, eyes turning red with bloodlust.

The soup is nearly done, and the roast is almost ready to rest. Harrison thought to himself. Cooking always did have that calming effect on him, ever since he was young.

He reached into the drawer next to the oven for a knife, only to find it completely empty. He blinked, momentarily confused by the disappearance of utensils.

Then, he grinned. "I hope Malphas disinfects them if he intends to use them to serve people…"

In all seriousness, hepatitis was no joke in this era. Nonetheless, maybe he'll just settle for using the filleting knife this time.

"Ah, please excuse me. I'm in a hurry, you see," Sebastian surveyed the carnage around him. No one was conscious enough to give him any reply besides a low groan.

"He's here!" The men inside gave their orders, and a shower of gunfire greeted him from the great hall. Immediately, he darted to the left, grabbed a coat rack, and swung it with the ease of a kung-fu master.

"I am cutting it a bit close," he muttered to himself as he stepped on a hand that was twitching towards a small handgun.

He made his way through the mansion- leisurely dodging bullets here and there- until he got to the dining hall. It was the next most defensible place, and they had clearly prepared well for an army, for they had semi-automatic weapons ready to be fired.

"There he is- kill him!" They shrieked.

In that moment, Sebastian took great pleasure in the sound of ceramic breaking as the porcelain plates from the table turned into deadly weapons. There was nothing quite as therapeutic as seeing empty heads being cracked open, he thought. Surely, the insides were hollow if the plates could break through the cranium so easily, he thought with dark humor.

"Get every one of those guys from the West Ridge as well- we'll shoot him full of holes!" The man in charge of the operation shouted.

Good grief, Sebastian thought with a sigh. There was a limit to stupidity, but that limit seems to get lower with every generation. It was starting to get slightly tedious, especially since he wasn't technically allowed to feast on any of those souls- not that they would taste any good.

With his patience wearing thin, Sebastian drew out ten knives from his suit jacket and threw them with deadly accuracy- ten fewer idiots to worry about. Ten down, a hundred more to go, he sighed and continued with his pest extermination chore.

"Who the hell is he?!" The rats panicked, aim going haywire.

"One who is worthy of being the Phantomhive house's butler… What would I do if I couldn't even manage this much?" he asked mildly while backflipping off a rail.

"Oh dear, I seem to have taken too much time," he noted while checking his pocket watch. The demon hung upside down from the chandelier- perhaps the only piece of furniture in the room not drenched with blood.

Well, that should be the end of that, he thought and landed gently on the ground. Time to face the rat king. His thoughts drifted briefly- at least he didn't have to rush back to cook dinner after this.

"Please pardon the intrusion; I've come to retrieve my master," Sebastian bowed in the face of the shaking gun aimed at his head. Clearly, the Italian was a coward and an amateur. Shaking like that is very unbecoming of a professional fighter. Still, he relished in the sight of wide eyes and panicked breaths that the mortal gave. It was nice to be feared and respected as his station.

"A butler," the man stuttered. "I'm surprised you managed to kill all these people by yourself. You've got us," he said, reaching into his pinstripe suit.

Undoubtedly, some sort of ambush, Sebastian thought with some amusement. They were so cliché, it was laughable.

"I was wondering what kind of giant would come, but you're just a tail-coated Romeo," the man laughed shakily.

A Romeo? Sebastian thought with some amusement- it wasn't his first time being called that, but that was then, and this is now.

"Who are you, really? Are you a hitman hired by the Phantomhives? Are you an ex-SWAT mercenary? You can't really be a butler," the Italian boss taunted.

"I am a butler to the core, and only that," Sebastian said, his tone cool and professional.

"I see… In any case, I have no intention of fighting you, Mr. Butler- I yield." Spoken like a true coward, Sebastian thought.

"But you know, I'll be taking those goods you managed to get," he said, grasping a bloodied Ciel by the hair and holding a pistol to his head.

"You wouldn't want your cute master to have breathing holes in his head, would you?" The man grinned. "If you're really a butler, you should know what to do, right?"

"The thing you gentlemen are looking for is right here," Sebastian said calmly… as he pulled out a cat shaped coin purse.

There was silence. Complete and utter silence.

"I'm sorry, were you expecting something to happen?" A different voice said pleasantly from behind an oil painting of Mother Mary, Baby Jesus, and Gabriel. In that instant, Azzuro felt fear; he thought, surely, God was coming for him.

In an instant, the painting burst into flames as two diagonal slices cut the painting apart from behind; bodies spilled out from the back, like marionettes with their strings cut.

Out stepped a thin figure dressed in a three piece suit. His clothing was pristine despite the bloodshed around him, and in his hand, was a flaming sword.

"Sloppy," Harrison glanced down at the bodies, one of which had an arm hooked around his ankle. He shook it free carelessly. "Cowardly too, to boot."

Now properly terrified, Azzuro's hand shook even more. "Who- who-"

The archangel's glance slid towards the mafia boss. "My name is Harrison Crowe," he began. Upon hearing the name Crowe, Azzuro's hand jerked. "I am the Phantomhive household tutor, and I would be much obliged if you could unhand the young master… Now," he said.

Intimidated and outgunned, the man dropped Ciel on the floor roughly and scurried back.

"Really, I'd appreciate it if you could be a bit more careful with the young master… People are fragile, you know." Harrison huffed and knelt down next to Ciel. He sheathed his sword and laid it down on the floor.

"You brought that sword?" Sebastian noted with amusement, one hand on his chin.

"I did," Harrison shrugged as he muttered a cutting spell on Ciel's bindings; they fell apart easily. "The angels guarding Eden were bored; mortals nowadays don't even acknowledge Eden's existence, let alone know where it is. They don't need this sword anymore, so they lent it out to me."

"Is that so?" Slitted red eyes glanced at the flaming sword.

"Don't you worry," Harrison said, his face twisting into a pleasant smile, "They've got my sword instead."

Sebastian grimaced. He felt sorry for whichever demon that went to try their luck at Eden at the moment… It was hard to tell which sword was worse. One burns you to death, and the other one makes you wish you were only being burnt to death. Both were nasty pieces of work.

"What- what are you?!" The terrified man shrieked in the background.

"Episkey," Harrison waved a hand, and Ciel's bloody nose stopped. He held a green hand over the rest of the boy's injuries and watched them knit together with a careful eye. "There, is that better?" He ignored the question directed at him. The insignificant had no right to demand answers.

In the background, Sebastian was busy pulling bodies out from the wall.

"You… you guys are just servants! I- I can't be finished in a place like this! As a bodyguard, I can give you five- no- ten times more than what you're getting right now! And liquor, and women! Whatever you want! So team up with me!" he pleaded desperately.

"Despicable- truly despicable," Harrison remarked, barely sparing him a glance. "To think that such dredges of society exist disguised as nobles… This is truly blight on the name and prestige of nobility."

Ciel absently wondered which family his tutor belonged to when he was alive.

"It's a shame, Sir Vener, I have no interest in currency made by human hands, for I am a demon and a butler." Sebastian grinned, his eyes alight with supernatural power.

"That's the line you're using? A demon and a butler?" Harrison asked incredulously. "And that pun works?" He looked on the verge of bursting into laughter.

Sebastian merely looked irked.

"Really, of all things you could say… And the clerks give me slack for not blending in well enough." Harrison shook his head and chuckled. "There, Young Master, try walking on that ankle- it should be okay now."

Careful as always, the angel even mended Ciel's torn clothing. Now properly healed, Ciel looked no different than he did that very morning.

"It's game over, Azzuro," Ciel said, claiming the metaphorical throne for himself.

"No…" the broken man muttered. "You- what are you…."

"I have no need to explain myself to people like you." Harrison looked down coldly at him. With a swipe of his sword, Azzuro's world went black. "And I'll thank you not to lay a hand on my charge," he infiormed the now headless corpse.

"Hmph- I suppose we'll have to clean up here," the angel looked at Sebastian and pulled a face. The cleanup work was always the most tedious.

"Yes, that would be for the best," Ciel agreed and crossed his legs, sitting languidly on the chair. It was hard to believe that just moments before, he was at the mercy of a madman.

"Oh, dinner preparations are already complete, by the way," Harrison noted as he began to pull something out of the air- it was a sick oily grey substance, greasy and pooling in the air. "By the time we're home, the roast should be done resting."

"My thanks," Sebastian's fangs showed past his smile; his eyes were still bright red.

Harrison scoffed. "You can keep your thanks." The ball resting above his hand grew bigger. "Oh, on second thought, you can help pull the rest of those bodies out of the wall- there shouldn't be any blood."

"Of course, they would only be slightly burnt," Sebastian noted.

"You would know by experience," Harrison said with a chuckle.

"What is that?" Ciel pointed curiously at the blob gathering in his tutor's hands.

"Oh, that?" Harrison blinked. "They're souls- from this rats nest, I suppose. These are just the ones going straight to hell- they're too black for any other option. I'm just saving my colleagues some work; these souls won't make it past the front doors of hell before they get turned into someone's dinner, so I might as well gather them in one place."

Well, it makes sense- in a logical sort of way, Ciel thought. It was only a bit surreal, how many laws of the scientific world they were breaking. Nonetheless, he paid close attention to the color- this was the color that he didn't want his own soul to become. And he would have to be careful, in his line of work.

It was a bit startling, to note that Michael, the archangel, was just as capable of violence as Malphas, a prince of Hell. Ciel knew that they should be equivalent in power, but he had thought that as an archangel, the other man would show more restraint- clearly, that is not the case.

Sebastian chuckled as he ducked inside the painting. His laugh echoed around the walls, drawing the archangel's attention.

"That one's fake, by the way," he remarked at the burning painting of Gabriel. "It does make me feel a bit better though- that's what you get for opening a betting pool on me. Now who has the last laugh?"

It was only slightly childish, Ciel noted with some disbelief.

Somewhere up there, he had a feeling that the other archangel was laughing away merrily nonetheless.

When the mass of soul had stopped spinning in his hand, he closed one fist over them, and they disappeared into his ring- a ring that Ciel noted looked a lot like a Lord ring from some unknown family.

"Are you done?" the tutor turned his head and called to Sebastian.

"Yes," he said, emerging from the painting in his more human form.

"Good, let us leave then- it's quite late," Harrison nodded. To Ciel, he said, "That guy over there sent two messengers over to the manor to "inform" us of your unfortunate disappearance; I scared them a little and tied them up. They still have their orders, weapons, and method of transport; those should be enough for the Scottish Yard."

A little, Sebastian thought with a laugh- he was sure that those men were beyond terrified by whatever Michael chose to show them.

Ciel nodded- it would definitely be enough. Coupled with the massacre here, the powers of the Underground would think twice before interfering with the Phantomhives. As warnings go, it was a very effective one.

"Alright, let's leave then," the archangel said as he opened one of the windows wide. Ciel wondered absently if he was going to jump from the second floor- it didn't look like the tutor had called a horse carriage. He has seen Sebastian jump from the greater heights before- it was nothing new to him.

Instead, to his surprise, enormous white wings sprouted from the back of his tutor. They were wide and tapered, taking up almost all of the space in the room.

"You…" the child gaped at the surreal sight.

"What? I'm an angel- of course I'd have wings," Harrison said matter-of-factly. "Sebastian over there has wings too, when he looks more like himself." The crow demon on the other side of the room nodded and more or less agreed with the statement.

"How else do you think I got here this quickly?" He asked, flapping his wings a couple of times. White feathers drifted onto the floor. "I flew."

"You flew." Ciel said disbelieving. It was a bit of a minor miracle, how he still had any capability left to be surprised.

Sebastian muttered something, disguised as a cough and too low for Ciel to make out.

"I'm not molting, you sorry excuse for an avian," Harrison snapped, his sharp viridian gaze pinned on the ever amused demon.

He kind of was, Ciel realized. Suddenly, he had a "coughing fit" as well.

Knowing a lost battle when he saw one, the commander gave up the argument and turned up his nose with dignity. "Well? Do you want to try flying? It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, I'll guarantee you that."

"Me?" Ciel asked, blinking rapidly.

"Well, I'm not carrying Malphas if that's what you're thinking. I won't drop you, I promise," Harrison grinned with far too much teeth. Sebastian, that sorry excuse for a demon, just chuckled.

"It is a once in a lifetime opportunity for a mortal," Sebastian admitted. Michael didn't just carry anyone- his pride as an angel was great, and he had gladly clobbered the last fool who compared him to a pack mule.

In fact, if he were to be carried by Michael, he was sure that he'd at least be in a body bag.

Want warred with worry for a minute, until want won out. "… Alright," Ciel said warily.

"I hope you're not afraid of heights," Harrison laughed as he scooped up the small child in his arms. Ciel would protest until the day he died, but he did not squeak. "I'm sure Sebastian will make his way back just fine."

The demon chuckled and watched as his archrival leaped out of the open window with his contractor in his arms. Now, time to depart before those pesky Shinigami got there.

With an almost inaudible shriek, Ciel was up in the air and soaring.

"Relax, Young Master," Harrison laughed, a carefree note in his voice. "Air transportation won't become mainstream for a good couple of decades, so enjoy the ride for now."

It was exhilarating, Ciel thought to himself. Absolutely breathtaking- though that might just be the adrenaline.

"Look at the stars," the angel shouted against the wind. "The countryside and the mountains- they're beautiful."

And beautiful they were- Ciel looked up at his namesake and saw a sky full of stars. Across the expanse of the horizon, the sky opened up, with stars spilling out of its great maw. There were more stars than the eye could see. Quicker than Ciel could count, they flew past constellation after constellation.

"Amazing," he breathed. Beneath the great expanse of the sky, he was reminded of how small he was- of how small every living being was. He felt small, yet he felt safe- literally in the arms of an angel.

"God's creation at its finest," the angel agreed wholeheartedly. "The world is beautiful if you take the time to pause and look- never forget that. Nature has a beauty of its own."

And just for a moment- no matter how dark and frightening the world was, how scared he was deep down inside- life was bright and beautiful.

Outtakes One: Who has the last laugh now?

The next day, the incident at the Ferro family mansion made front page, as the Phantomhive household knew that it would. After dinner, Ciel had called Lord Randall and his underling- a man Ciel had not-so-fondly named "Underline" to come pick up the two prisoners who were ridiculously thankful that the Scottish Yard had come to arrest them.

The official story was that the tutor of the household was thankfully able to catch the perpetrators before they made it to their escape vehicle. When Abberline asked how the scholarly man was able to do that- he looked barely able to lift the tomes in the library- Harrison had merely given him a formal introduction of himself. Once he mentioned the last name "Crowe", all questions were summarily answered- it was a useful last name to have, he thought.

"What did you do?" Ciel asked Harrison curiously. He looked on as the two men looked to be nearly sobbing with relief.

"Nothing worth mentioning," the tutor replied smoothly. He didn't quite have the heart to tell Ciel the unofficial story, which was that in his rage, he appeared to those two in all his divine rage and flaming sword- and then stopped their shiny new Ferrari in its tracks. Clearly, they have reason to be scared.

Ciel glanced at him dubiously but didn't ask any further.

He would have his questions answered the next day over breakfast, in the form of a partly surprised, partly enraged shout. His tutor strode in, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. He had the morning's newspaper clenched tightly in his hand.

"… Harrison?" Ciel put down his forkful of omelet and wiped his mouth.

"That good for nothing winged weasel of a messenger! Why I ought to…!" the tutor seethed and continued muttering angrily about stolen credit and meddlesome juniors.

Ciel stared until the tutor calmed himself down with several deep breaths. As amusing as it was to see an angel call someone (or something) else a "winged weasel," he did want to know what caused his tutor to act so oddly.

"Young Master, read this." The tutor showed Ciel the wrinkled pages of the newspaper.

"Divine Punishment for the Wretched: The Ferro Manor Massacre…" Ciel read the title. Harrison gestured for him to continue on. "Archangel Gabriel appears out of a painting to deliver divine retribution to the Ferro family- servants confirm sighting of an angel with a flaming sword…?"

The lordling continued reading- apparently, the two men handed over the Yard had babbled endlessly about an angel with a flaming sword coming for them. Combined with the flaming picture of Gabriel (whose part of the painting was "miraculously" spared from burning beyond recognition) and the white feathers in front of the painting, the general consensus was that the Archangel Gabriel materialized out of the oil painting with a flaming sword in hand.

Finally realizing the cause of his tutor's ire, Ciel began laughing long and hard. It would see that this time, Gabriel gets the last laugh.

Outtakes Two: Important documents

"But you know, I'll be taking those goods you managed to get," he said, grasping a bloodied Ciel by the hair and holding a pistol to his head.

"You wouldn't want your cute master to have breathing holes in his head, would you?" The man grinned. "If you're really a butler, you should know what to do, right?"

"The thing you gentlemen are looking for is right here," Sebastian said calmly… as he pulled out a cat shaped coin purse. The clasp of the coin purse unclicked itself, and out came spilling pictures. Numerous, incriminating pictures... of cats. Cat ears, cat faces, cat tails and paws.

There was silence. Complete and utter silence.

"Dammit, Malphas! Your obsession of cats is not an important good!" A different voice said from behind an oil painting of Mother Mary, Baby Jesus, and Gabriel. In that instant, Azzuro felt fear; he thought, surely, God was coming for him.

Outtakes Three: Dinner

A knock came at his door- "'Tis some visitor," Sebastian muttered, "tapping at my chamber door— " He chuckled.

"Delivery," a familiar voice deadpanned. "Quit waxing poetry at me, you. Your jokes are never funny."

"Ah, the dulcet tones of the one and only person whom I never again want to see in my entire existence," Sebastian snorted and opened the door.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual," Harrison said dryly. He greeted the butler with a tightly held fist. He opened it slowly, and the glob of souls from before materialized from his ring.

"One of your Hallows, I'd presume?" Sebastian asked mildly and accepted the glob- it floated over his hand.

In reply, the tutor merely shrugged and avoided answering it. "Here- dinner for you."

"You can hardly expect me to eat this," Sebastian said, wryly amused. He glared at the blob- it shrank back.

"I'm sure you've had worse meals," Harrison replied without missing a beat. "The souls in Hell aren't any better than this- worse, in fact, since these haven't passed beyond the Gates of Hell yet."

True enough, Sebastian shrugged. That was also why demons preferred to go to the mortal realms for food.

"I'm not supposed to consume souls when I'm contracted," Sebastian rebutted, one hand resting on the doorframe.

The angel shook his head. "The Faustian Contract stipulates that a demon who is contracted cannot remove the soul of another being while contracted. I was the one who removed those souls; there's nothing in the contract against you consuming an already removed soul, since demons cannot consume souls that are still attached to the body."

"True," Sebastian inclined his head. His eyes flashed a deep red- the earliest sign of a demon's hunger. "Yet you are very insistent that I be fed," he mused. "How unusual."

"I assure you, my goodwill does not extend that deep." the archangel said dryly. "You're going to need to be at your full strength for the challenges yet to come- that is, if you don't want to be a danger to everyone else around you, including your contractor."

"Is that a prophecy?" Sebastian- no, Malphas- asked lightly.

"I don't need to read the future to know that trouble follows the little lord like a shadow would their master," Michael said, dropping his persona as Harrison. "You're going to need to fight at your full strength, Malphas. You didn't get too roughed up this time, but if you keep getting injured without a source of food to regenerate the damage… you'll lose control eventually due to hunger and consume everyone on this side of England."

"That bad, hm?" The demon looked at his rival, who met his stare dead on.

"You'll see for yourself when the time comes," Michael shrugged. "Just eat your damn food, Malphas. Those Shinigami won't even kick up a fuss over it, since I left them a note."

"How thoughtful of you," Malphas said, as he turned the ball of souls over in his hand.

"They can't complain anyways, since I was the one to remove the souls, and I outrank them by miles. I was just being polite," the angel shrugged.

"In that case, you have my thanks," the demon said smoothly.

"You can keep your thanks," the angel instantly replied. He turned to leave as Malphas' shadow began to unravel, and the demon bent down to drink.

Outtakes Four: A polite request for non-interference.

"Ara, a demon attack?" A hum of machinery stopped as a lawnmower hovered over the eerily quiet mansion.

The owner of the lawnmower adjusted his heavy frame glasses and pulled out a notebook. "… Let's see… John Denner- aged thirty one- death by blunt head trauma and blood loss via dinner plate…? Wow, those demons sure are getting creative. It's been a while since there has been an attack in England- I guess they must be getting bored."

Ronald Knox shrugged as he reached for the cinematic replay of Mr. Denner… only to find it missing.

"Huh?" Confusion showed in his poison green eyes. He glanced down on his notebook, only to find the page stamped when it wasn't a moment before.

"Overridden?" He gaped at the page. Even if the soul of the person was eaten by a demon, usually their cinematic replay was present in bits- demons were rarely clean eaters, after all. It was part of the reason why Shinigami detested demons so; they left only bits of the cinematic replay, and it was hard to judge a person's soul by the leftover bits. To have a soul removed this cleanly and an override order, it could only mean one thing… Angels. But what is one doing on the scene of a demon attack, removing a soul?

"Something's not right here," he muttered as he drifted down to the ground. He took his trusty gardening tool with him- just in case.

He meandered through the entire mansion, carelessly walking through the scene of the massacre. Everywhere he went, he only saw the aftermaths of a demon attack- carnage upon carnage. Up on the second floor, pinned with a pristine white feather to the wall, was a message. Clearing his throat, Ronald began to read to himself:

"To the overworked London Shinigami in charge of cleaning up this mess:

Greetings, I hope that this message finds you in decent health. For both convenience and mutual benefit, the souls going to hell have already been removed and accounted for; there is no need to send them into the afterlife. The override orders for those should already be given out and will appear shortly, depending on how overworked the clerks are for this part of England. You should find that the majority of the souls here are, in fact, sentenced to hell, and that your work has been mostly cut short. In that case, I hope that you will enjoy your time off (or if you happen to be the hardworking type, that your next assignment will more than make up for the slack).

Also, this message is an advanced notice to the London Shinigami: the demon in charge of this massacre is currently leashed with the Faustian contract, and I have taken up the assignment of guardian angel for his contractor. Do not interfere with my assignment- this is my mission and mine only. I will take whatever actions necessary to complete my mission, as is my right. This is the only notice I will provide regarding this situation. Whatever concerns you have regarding this arrangement, you may take your inquiries up to the clerk cherubs up in Heaven.

Michael

Archangel, Commander of Divine Armies"

"Michael, the Commander of Divine Armies?!" Ronald gaped and nearly dropped his scythe. He repeated it once over, just to make sure he wasn't misreading anything. Forget his date with the secretary- William needs to see this, pronto.

Mandy: Well, that's another chapter done. I ran into a writer's block for my main story, and that's when I realized that I needed to let out some of that gore/dark theme that wouldn't quite fit my main story. Incidentally, they fit right into this one, so enjoy the update. I hope that you guys enjoy the update- sorry if it's a little gory/dark, but I think it should still fit under the "T" section; the gore's not bad enough to earn an "M" rating. But idk- my perception of what's "gore" is probably a bit more than skewed by now, and nothing grosses me out anymore, so let me know if the gore content in this chapter is a bit too much.

I just kind of sat down and started writing in the afternoon, and this chapter basically wrote itself. I have no idea what happened with the scene between Harrison and Bard; it just wrote itself. However, the flying scene with Ciel- I've had that one in my head for a while.

Also, the outtakes are something that I tend to do with most of my stories; they're basically scenes after where I want to end the story or scenes that I'm not really sure where to put in the chapter. They're all a part of the main story though, so don't skip them!

The names thing between Sebastian/Malphas and Harrison/Michael may get a bit confusing at times, but it's just like when Sebastian switches over to his more demonic side in the manga.

Also, chapter titles are pretty much just whatever song I'm listening to at the moment.

Edit: Editing for spelling errors and the like- 5/2/16