Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler. But you probably already knew that.

Burning. Everything's burning. They've already burned. Burned in this strange, living fire. The flames have spread across half my body, and are still moving. I am flinging myself between the worlds, the blue portal stream rushing past me. I look down at the bundle I clutch to my chest. Rebecca. Her name is Rebecca. She squirms as the flames near her. They lick her skin and disappear, extinguished. I smile, then wince at the pain this action brings. She is new. She is strong, the strongest. She'll survive this. But I need a place for her. Pain rips through me, and I know I've reached my limit. I fling myself through the nearest opening and gasp as I hit the cobblestones. I roll over quickly and leap to my feet, checking on my precious cargo. She is unharmed, and I quickly look around, what is this world's story? It appears to be Victorian England, London, I believe. I take in the tightly packed buildings, the filthy streets and the chattering of a busy city. Who can I trust? Not a human, they won't be able to deal with her. A reaper? No, they're workaholics, and some of them are quite insane. Who? What? And I scream silently as the truth hits me like a ton of bricks. A hysterical gasp bubbles from my ravaged throat. A demon. God forgive me, my child will be left with a demon. But no time to dwell on that now. I look around again, and my heart leaps as I find one not too far from here. I run. Faster and faster. The flames whipping out behind I am here. I look up. Not bad, at least for this time period. The building is straight and well-maintained, clean too. But then again, everything is new after that fire. Five or six years ago? More? Less? I don't know. My head tilts back as I remember this particular Demon's story. Sebastian. Sebastian Michaelis. Oh. He's interesting. I look down at Rebecca. At my baby. I'm sorry, precious one, but you won't survive as you are now. I grab the remainders of my power and force her to accelerate. Her back arches as she grows, becoming taller, leaner, less babyish. When I am done she is about three, years, not hours, as she was before. I choke back a sob. My baby, left here. But I have no choice. Reapers aren't the best with children, some of them are downright dangerous, and a human cannot deal with her, even if I do bind her powers. She blinks sleepily as I grab her head and force all the information that she'll need to know to survive here into her mind. Then I kiss her forehead and then do the last thing necessary, the thing that will assure her safety. I pull out a bowl, a pen, and a piece of paper. I scribble a hurried note and then shove into her hands. She looks down at it, and then up at me,

"Mama?" She whispers and, choking back a sob I take the pen and drag it across my wrist, blood fountains and I freeze it. I take it and whisper, change the blood, take my emotions, my desperation, my love. Change the blood. Finally I reach down and, with a whispered apology, prick Rebecca's finger. She cries out and my heart breaks, but I take the blood and put a drop into the bowl. Now she will be cared for, now she will be...

I am interrupted by a small whimper, emanating not from Rebecca, but from another source. I turn, and I see a young girl, no more than two, curled up in a box that is nestled against the side of the building across from where Rebecca will live. Her clothes are stained and ripped, her hair matted and dirty. She is thin, too thin, and even the house that she lies near appears to be in a state of disrepair. She looks at me fearfully, and my heart breaks all over again. Still I hesitate, the attachment may have a negative effect on her. She whimpers again, and I make my choice. In an instant I scoop her up, pricking her finger as I did Rebecca's and setting her down near my daughter. She begins to cry and Rebecca blinks a few times before toddling over to her and plopping down. I double over as the fire lances through my chest, but add the other child's blood to the mixture. I bend down and grab her blue-black-haired head. She squirms but I take the necessary information and add it, rewriting some of my blood's molecular coding to fit her in. I look at the child again, no immediate negative effects. But the world is starting to spin. I grab both of them and run up the stairs to the door leading inside. Once there I sprint until we stand in front of his flat. I kiss Rebecca's forehead again, and then I turn, and then I run. Finally, standing outside, I hear the clip-clop of horse hooves, and feel a fresh breeze cut through the fire. I smile, and look up at the cloudy sky. She'll be safe, even if he is a demon. Tears drip down my face as I collapse to my knees, sobbing and laughing all at the same time. Then I feel nothing as I let go and allow the fires to complete their deadly aim. Farewell little love.

Sebastian's POV

I hear a knock on the door as I begin to prepare my evening tea. Technically I don't eat or drink, at least not the same things humans do. But I find it useful for if anyone drops by as it can be a bit annoying to have to explain why you have no tea at teatime. Especially in England. But no matter. I sigh and move away from the kettle, turning and walking towards the door. I do hope that it's not those bothersome boys again; though I do believe that I frightened them sufficiently last time they got it in their heads to irritate me. Perhaps a different group. I slowly open the door and peer outside. Odd. No one is there. Perhaps they've gotten faster at running away... Then I hear a soft sound and look down. My eyes widen and I take a step back, surprised. Two children, one appears to be about three and the other two, stand there, blinking up at me. I stick my head out and look around, but no one appears to be with them. I look down again and sigh before stepping into the hallway. I kneel bend down and fix the older one with a look that has made grown men cry and say,

"Can I help you, miss?"

She looks at me balefully for a few seconds, and then sticks out her hand. I look down and raise one eyebrow. A note. I've heard of women leaving their children on a wealthy strangers doorstep before, but this? I take the note carefully and read it,

"Dear Sebastian Michaelis, demon," So she, or he, or it, knows my true nature. I look back at the two children. Upon closer inspection they neither look or smell like siblings, but appear human. I look back down at the note,

"Drink the blood. Now. I know this is probably confusing but my daughter's name is Rebecca. She's the one with the brown hair. I do not know whom the blue-haired one is though, that's for you to find out. I would recommend you care for them. Unfortunately you are a demon, but, well, that can't be helped and you are a better caretaker for them than humans or Reapers, though not by much. Do attempt not to corrupt them overly much and if you can, find the blue-haired one's relations, I'm sure they are missing her.

Sincerely,

The second-to-last-of-my-kind-so-take-care-of-them-you-idiot"

P.S. Harming/killing them is severely discouraged, for your sake as well as theirs.

Very strange. Obviously a madwoman wrote this note. A very well informed madwoman, but insane nevertheless. Me, care for children? I smile slightly, and feel the tiniest smidgen of satisfaction when the children shiver. I straighten up and look down at them again. The unknown one sits down and stares at her lap, but the other one, Rebecca, simply looks at me sadly. I shake my head and turn to re-enter my apartment, but before I can my muscles freeze. I try to move but instead of obeying my commands my body turns around to face the children again. Rebecca looks at me, and then at the bowl she clutches, it seems to be filled with a strange blue liquid. I imagine that this is the blood. I have no time to ponder this as my hand begins to reach out of its own accord. I struggle and strain, but to no avail. I curse under my breath as my mouth pries itself open and the blood pours into my mouth and down my throat and into my unnecessary stomach. Only then do I regain control of my body and I stumble backwards for a few steps before regaining my balance. I straighten again and look at the little ones. Huh, odd. I watch them for a few more seconds, then smirk and toss the bowl back to Rebecca,

"A pretty trick, little one."

I turn around and walk inside, slamming the door behind me. I stalk back to the kitchen smugly walking near the picture of a cat that I hung up to make the place more hospitable. The picture is leaning slightly to the right so I pause to straighten it, when I try to move again I feel the slightest pressure on my wrist, but I choose to ignore it. After taking another step I realize that I have left my arms behind. My eyes widen at this odd occurrence and I am forced to stop walking because I would prefer to have control of all my limbs at all times. I tug my arm towards me experimentally; it moves forwards about a foot before it stops and I hear a loud thud coming from the door. I take a step back, and hear something slide to the floor. Then I hear a soft sob, and someone else whisper quietly. I test my arms and find that they can move freely again. This is very odd. I turn around and walk slowly towards the door, reaching out slowly to grasp the door handle and retract the latch. I carefully open the door and look outside, then down. The same two faces look back at me. The younger one has tears sliding down her face, and presently the older one wraps her arms around her and glares up at me. She opens her mouth and spits out one word,

"Meanie."

The way she says it I would take it that this is the worst insult she knows.

"What happened?" I inquire.

She glares at me again, her own eyes starting to tear up,

"You left. Then you made those chains whack us into the door!"

Her vocabulary is much advanced for her age, though she stumbles over the words like a novice to talking. What chains?"

"I see no chains."

She rolls her eyes at my statement, then stomps her foot, still not letting go of her younger companion,

"Of course you can! You're just pretending 'cause you're a meanie!"

What does she mean? Is this child insane? Bewitched? I sigh and growl,

"Where are the chains?"

She looks up at me, puzzled,

"Right there. Right on your wrists," She holds up her right wrist and the other one's right wrist,

"Right here too."

What? I peer intently at both of my wrists, and at theirs as well. Just as I thought, nothi... then something. I notice something out of the corner of my eye, but when I turn to look at it, it disappears. I turn back to Rebecca, and there it is again. I purposely avoid looking at it directly, and eventually I manipulate myself until I can see the thing well enough to know what it is. It appears to be a link, no, a chain of links. I take a few steps backwards, and start as the chains shift and stretch. Still looking out of the corner of my eye, I follow the chain down one direction, and discover its end point on the little one's wrist. I follow the chain the other way and find it attached to a manacle clamped around my right wrist. I swallow nervously as I maneuver my other wrist to where I could see it. Yes. Another one, a quick glance allows me to see that it ends at Rebecca. What is this? My eyes flick up from my hands and I look into Rebecca's eyes, trying to discern the difference between hers and mine. Nothing about her appears special, but she must to be of the same species as whoever wrote the note. And created these chains,

"What did your mother do to me?"

I assume that the note-writer was her mother. Who else would go to this much trouble? She shrugs, and my inhuman patience snaps. I reach forward and grab her arm. She starts backwards but I retain my grip, leaning forward until my face is close to hers,

"What. Did. She. Do?"

She whimpers and shrugs again,

"Don't know. Don't know!"

I sigh, and release her arm. She stumbles backwards and the younger one starts to wail. After a few seconds Rebecca's bottom lip begins to quiver as well. Irritating. I sigh and drop my head before stepping forward and scooping them up. The little one stops wailing and wraps her arms around my neck. Rebecca begins to struggle, but stops when I glare at her, and goes still. She whimpers again and I bite back a groan, irritating child. But still,

"I won't harm you. But you have to come with me, seeing as we appear to be bound together. Hmm?"

I turn to look at her as I say this, the movement required making the younger one squeak as she is forced to shift her arms. She watches me for a few seconds before nodding slowly and wrapping her arms around my neck as well. I stifle another groan. I can't wait to get this broken; I don't prefer to spend time around the young of any species, especially humans. And apparently whatever Rebecca is. With a slight shake of my head I turn around and walk into my apartment, kicking the door closed behind me.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated!