So it's been quite a while since I've written for Kuroshitsuji. I admit to falling out of the fandom for a bit, but the new anime is pulling me back in (even though I already know how it'll end). Had the urge to write this- it'd be my first "five and one" fic for this fandom. And the first time writing from the "povs" of the servants. I hope I do them justice!

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji

Five times Sebastian Michaelis saved the Phantomhive staff and the one time they saved their demon butler.

V. The Footman

There used to be a time when Snake forgot what freedom was. The feeling of open air on his fingers, the luxury of walking wherever he pleased, the privilege of being accepted- all these things were once foreign to him, when his life consisted of slivers behind the bars of a cage. That had all changed when Noah's Ark came. These people had freed him, accepted him, loved him... they were family, these people he considered brothers and sisters.

Before them, he had nothing but snakes, reptiles that had treated him better than any human ever had. And after them, these snakes were all he had once more.

There used to be a time when Snake loathed the name Phantomhive, the one who had taken his family away. He had despised everyone in that manor and he had wanted nothing more than to bathe them in poison and blood. Until Ciel Phantomhive- Smile- made a promise that the young man clung to. He would see his family again. And in the end, Earl Phantomhive was still Smile and Sebastian Michaelis was still Black.

Snake had somehow been accepted again. It was the Phantomhive manor that took him in and its staff that claimed him as one of their own. In time, his snakes, his scales, his repulsive being, meant nothing to them... it reminded him of family. Almost.

In the time that followed as a footman, he held onto his reservations of the staff. They are being polite, Wordsworth once said. There's something wrong with this bunch, Emily told him. There was only one set of humans you could trust and that set is gone, Wilde had said. Snake quelled their misgivings, but the doubt crept back in when he slept.

Between the snores of the cook and the occasional incoherent mumbles of the dozing gardener, Snake would lie awake in his bunk, his slithering companions whispering into his ears. There were too many questions he could not answer.

One thing he was certain of, however, was the staff's loyalty to the young earl. There was an unquestionable devotion to the boy that Snake found himself developing as well. Of course, the closest to Smile was and always would be Black.

Even now, he could not bring himself to address them by anything else- he feared that if he did, he would forget about Noah's Ark.

"Been quite a long time, 'asn't it, Snake man?"

The gruff, malicious voice brought him back the present. The footman struggled to blink- whatever thoughts were swirling in his brain had been a result of a semi-conscious state. They knocked you out, they tried to kill us, Bronte whispered. He could hear her, but she was not on his person.

He couldn't see in the dark. It was an alley- yes, an alley, narrow, tight, and dirty. It smelled as foul as that cage from so long ago. The sky was dark above them and the air was damp. Snake stifled a groan. His head throbbed, no doubt from what they had struck him with. You're bleeding, Oscar said from his spot on the ground.

The snakes were pinned by a trunk, their bodies looped together in a painful coil.

A greasy hand grabbed him by the strands of silvery hair. It yanked him forward. Snake bared his teeth as a light was shone against his bruised face.

"Just as 'ideous as ye were back then," a second voice said.

Snake recognized them now. Lyells and Pullman- those were the only names he knew them by. They had once been his jailers. Lyells was the first voice, a bony man with thick brows. And Pullman, the handsome barker with a scar beneath his right eye. Try as he might, Snake had never been able to forget their faces or the beatings and insults. He could never forget that cage.

The two laughed as he struggled to recall what happened. They were somewhere in the East End, what street he didn't know. Smile and Black had ventured out on a secretive errand and Snake had followed in the vain hope that it was to find his lost companions. The deeper into the city they got, the harder it had been to keep up. He remembered losing sight altogether by the time the sun fell.

He had been in the middle of quelling an argument between Wilde and Dan when a nauseating pain slammed into the back of his head. It came down twice. A wooden plank fell at his feet, no doubt the weapon of attack. The last thing he saw was a gloved hand gathering his snakes before his vision swam away. When he came to, his hands were bound behind his back and his feet tied together. It gave him a sense of ironic deja vu.

"Wot? Can't speak for yourself?" Lyells said.

"You don't own me, says Oscar," Snake retorted, his voice a near growl.

"Oh, we do- over that lot o' swindlers- you were the star attraction, snake man."

Snake heard Emily's hiss of anger when Pullman struck him across the face. He spat blood. The other man pulled him by the collar. "They stole you from us! Waltzed right up t' the cage and took you. Any idea how much money we lost over the years? Hadda scrap and scratch ta eat?"

"They stole nothing," Snake said, then louder, "because you do not own me, says-"

"Stop that!" It was Lyells this time, with a fist to his jaw. "Count us lucky that we saw you t'night. Not getting away this time."

Pullman grinned beside him, years of pent-up rage in his eyes. "No swindlers to protect you this time, eh?"

"They're gone, says Dan," Snake found himself snapping in spite of the instinct not to, "they're gone! We work for someone else now!"

Lyells was upon him, kicking and punching, each blow meant for pain. Snake doubled over, his snakes hissing in protest. How dare they harm him? How dare they treat the reptiles as such? He struggled to wriggle free- he'd rather die than go back to that cage, he'd rather kill these men here and now. He knew what freedom was now and he was not going to lose it. But it was to no avail. The cords were too tight and the pain in his head too great.

When Lyells finally relented, Snake felt blood leak from his nose. He settled for glaring while his captors dragged him by the legs. They planned to abduct him, had abducted him in fact.

And in that moment, he wondered if the staff would come looking. Would Smile? The Phantomhive servants would do anything for Smile, but would they do the same for each other? And if they did, would they do the same for Snake? Would they bother with this strange footman, this amateur servant?

He had disobeyed the master's order in the first place. It had been his choice to sneak off. What if Black saw this as a sign of his running away? What if he decided that Snake deserved to meet whatever fate found him? He didn't know Black well. He knew two things, not counting the near superhuman power the other man had- one: Black would do anything for Smile and two: Black had no tolerance for the staff's mishaps.

Snake had not only betrayed Smile, but also failed in his duty as a servant. No one would come for him.

"Treating a Phantomhive servant in such a manner; such poor form."

Snake instantly whipped his head up at the voice. He knew that voice, knew its tone, knew its speech. The Phantomhive butler was perched on the rooftop of the nearest building, the moonlight shining over his polite smile.

Black jumped and landed on both feet, stunning Snake's captors. He took one step towards them and gestured at the rope. "If you will, please untie our footman."

The two men gaped at him before regaining their wits. "Like hell!" Pullman shouted, picking up the plank they had used on Snake.

"If ye want this freak back, you'd better fight for it," Lyells growled.

Black's smile fell. He quirked an eyebrow in annoyance. "I do hope the 'freak' you're referring to is not that young man. He is an esteemed member of the staff and my young master will not be pleased to learn of the abuse he suffered at your hands."

Was Black... defending him? Snake said nothing, watching in surprise when the butler took another step forward. He heard the wild hissing of his companions when Pullman lunged. Black easily side-stepped the attack, catching the thrust plank with two fingers and tearing it out of Pullman's hands. While the other man struggled to regain balance, Black flicked him once in the ear and delivered a cringe-worthy blow to the man's abdomen.

Pullman crumpled with a gasp.

"I believe there is a phrase that calls for you to treat others the way you yourself would like to be treated. Since you chose to treat our footman so brutally, I'm assuming you would like to be beaten yourself."

A grin flashed across Black's face when he kicked Pullman in the thigh, the latter shouting in pain at the crunch that followed.

"Bloody bastard!" Lyells shouted, coming to his associate's rescue at last.

The butler turned towards the new assailant in annoyance. He dodged the fist that flew at his face. Lyells swung to no avail. From his spot, Snake caught a gleam of silver in the dark when Lyells moved to strike once more. Black caught one hand in his own, but Lyells' other fist charged forward, blade in hand.

It was in his belt, Emily said, of course.

"He has a knife!" Snake cried, "Black, look out, says Wordsworth!"

The blade came back slick with red. Black put a hand to his own side and to Snake's horror, the gloved palm was quickly stained with blood. But none of that reflected on the butler's stoic face. Black sighed.

"And now you pull a knife on the Phantomhive butler? It's no wonder you live on the East End."

"You stay back or I stab-"

In an instant, Black was towering over Lyells, his hands on the man's shoulder. "Stab me again? You must be mistaken."

He lifted Lyells and ignoring the man's protests, threw him at the wall. A shower of bricks slid down and the bloodied knife clattered in the alleyway. Black dusted his hands before turning his attention towards Snake.

"Are you all right, Snake?"

Snake didn't answer the question. "How did you find me, says Wilde?" he asked instead.

Black knelt and fidgeted at the bonds. Within seconds, Snake could move his limbs. "Well, I noticed a familiar presence following us on today's errand- you see, the young master's cane is too tall for him and we wouldn't want anyone to know that secret; getting it exchanged in secret was preferable. Of course, you seemed to lose interest in us soon enough. I assumed you would return to the manor."

Black offered him a rare soft smile. "Until I heard the aggressive screams of your pets. And here I find you with these brutes. A Phantomhive footman deserves better company, if I may say so myself."

The butler offered his hands and Snake took them. With the assistance, he was able to stand up on shaky legs.

"It looks like you'll be needing medical assistance. Nothing to worry about," Black said before turning toward the pinned snakes.

He walked toward them and lifted the trunk pinning the snakes. Black stooped and untied the coil. The snakes slithered over him in gratitude before returning to their owner. Their words of relief overwhelmed Snake.

The relief was quickly replaced with worry when he glimpsed the bloodied blade. Snake grabbed the butler's arm, a blatant invasion of personal space he had never attempted with the man before.

"What about you, Black? You're hurt, says Emily!"

Black only gave him a small chuckle. "Now, now. What kind of butler would I be if I could not even handle this little wound?"

"Black, it's not funny, you could have died, says Wordsworth!" You could have died for me.

"At the moment, I'm quite incapable of dying. You should be more worried about your own wounds. The sooner we get back to the manor, the better."

The manor. For a moment, it sounded like home.

Snake nodded dumbly. As they prepared to leave that alley for good, Pullman groaned. "Th- the hell are you?" he moaned.

"I'm simply one hell of a butler," was Black's smooth retort. Then an idea seemed to dawn on the man. "Seeing as the snakes are free, perhaps they can help us deal with the situation?"

Snake did not miss the mischievous gleam in the butler's eyes. "Of course, says Bronte," he said, with a little too much satisfaction.

The screams of Pullman and Lyells echoed into the night. They would never plague his nightmares again.

There used to be a time when Snake did not trust Sebastian Michaelis- Black. He admitted to somewhat fearing the man, resenting him, being at a loss as to how to understand him. Now there were no more doubts. He trusted the Phantomhive butler the way he would come to trust the rest of the staff, the way he used to trust his friends. The staff would always be loyal to Smile. As would the footman. Now Snake realized that loyalty extended to Black.

Thanks for reading and feel free to review! Would you like to see it go on, was Snake in character, etc. Let me know!

Next chapter: The Predecessor (Tanaka)