*This chapter is a dedicated piece made from the askance of my beloved reader gilleanfryingpan ( account reader). Thank you for your support of my work!*

( Scene placement; after death - before 'revival' )

Undertaker carefully cradles the now soaking, limp, and cold body of his former love into the parlor's back room. Gently, he sets the remains on the work table, an area he had dreaded placing the boy onto since the day they met... His own cold hands softly caress the now further scared face of his beloved... etching those same jagged lines into his own heart with sorrow.

The once deft acts he'd used for every other corpse that had laid on that table seemed only to drag him down into a bottomless pit of despair as he now stares down at the pale skinned beauty he loved so much. Zack's once porcelain skin now unearthly pale when compared to its original glow of life... His eyes closed as if sleeping, and if not for the unruly wounds that caused his heart to stop, Undertaker might even have given in to that miserably desolate lie. His skilled hands slowly close each wound with the precision of years and all of the desperate love in his body.

Dressing the scrawny young man was truly like dressing a doll... Had he always been so precious fragile and airily light?... No... Once, he'd been lively and bright. Almost always smiling towards Undertaker in such a loving way that the lack of the expression on the boy's face only worked to break his throbbing heart further. Why?... Why hadn't he told Zack the truth? Why hadn't he told him everything? Why hadn't he been awake to keep Zack by his side? Why was he so helpless in the face of Zack's death that not even all his previous experiments could give him any sureness of success that he desperately needed. Not just a success so that he may not lose the Phantomhives he cared for so, but a success that would bring his love completely back to him... exactly as perfect as Zack had been before...

"Please... let this work..." he whispers brokenly into the dying light of the room's drained lamps. Carefully, he stitches the addition to Zack's cinematic record and replaces it inside of him before waiting breathlessly... Slowly, the fingertips twitch and spasm softly before lying still as a bright blue eye and a cloudy grey eye open to stare up at Undertaker. "Success?" He gasps out almost strangledly through the whirlwind of his emotions. But this was not the kind of success he had been longing for... Zack sits up blockily his eyes showing no recognition or emotion of their own in any form. "Zack?" the boy tilts his head recognizing that something had been said, but not what. Tears stream down Undertaker's cheeks as the true realization hits him. 'This is not my Zack...' ... "But you will be again... someday..." he hugs the boy to him. "I'll make this right again..."