A/N: NO, I did NOT abandon this. All I can say is this: I'm really sorry. Things have gotten out of control between my sister and my dad recently, and since October I've been well-aquainted with three different hospitals in two different counties. I can fortunately say that my sister fine and my dad is slowly recovering from some dicey surgery, and I have finally had time to update this.

Sorry it's short, but I don't want to draw it out anymore and risk NEVER finishing it, so it's quick and you don't have to like it, but here it is!

Thank you for those who've stayed with me, and a huge shoutout to faithful reviewers! Ari Rue, Madame Stephanie, Aikenova, LovelyWickedDescet, and Jennypen, thank you all for support, criticism, making my smile like a fool and making me glad that I updated at times when I was dubious. THANKS SO MUCH TO ALL REVIEWERS! Now please enjoy the end :) Sorry again that I've kept you waiting.

Disclaimer: I temporarily kidnapped Knoxie, but Toboso still wouldn't give me Kuroshitsuji ;)

Ch. 12: So Sorry (Your World is Tumbling Down)

No matter where he went, no matter what hot, humid crevice in the earth he stumbled to, he could not escape the white noise; it was a constant bombardment of gunfire and screams and fires crackling and madmen laughing and his own pounding heart—maddening, maddening!

I'm going to go insane if I don't get away…

And suddenly there was another noise. Amid the migraine-inducing cacophony, his ears were able to discern one sound above all the others. It was broken, breathy groaning. Whoever the source was, he or she was surely dying, none-too pleasantly too. Tripping frequently, he managed to make his way around some boulders and find a tall, black-clad man, doubled over. Fear coursing through his veins, he had the nerve to reach out and offer a hand to the suffering individual.

"Hey…do you need some help…?"

The man jerked up, revealing Sebastian's face. Or, what had once been. Half of his lower mandible was missing, both eyes had been gauged out, and tufts of hair had been ripped away, bringing the flesh of his scalp with them. Gaping holes in his body leaked blackish-colored blood, and he reached out, as if to take the hand offered to him, his own fingers bent and the nails torn off the fingers. "Young Master…" he gasped, blood leaking out from between his lips as he spoke, and his tongue slipping out of his mouth through the space where his jaw had once been, "unng…why don't you help me…?"

Ciel Phantomhive woke up, screaming. His throat burned with the exertion of completely emptying his lungs in a frantic attempt to regain sanity, and his arms flailed as though he were being exorcised.

"Young Master! Young Master!" It was Sebastian's voice! Miserable, dying Sebastian was calling for him in Hell again!

"No! No! No!" Desperately, he thrashed against his…his…his bed sheets? Opening his eyes, he beheld his familiar bedroom, sunlight streaming in through the window and a perfectly docile-looking Sebastian peering down at him, quite in one piece. Breathing heavily and suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, he sat up and straightened his mussed hair. "Ah. Sebastian. Good morning."

The butler looked bemused by his sudden attempt at dissimilation. "You're expected to have vivid night terrors for quite some time, sir. It's completely normal and you needn't be ashamed. Nonetheless, to calm your nerves, I have prepared some lavender and vanilla chai tea, made with milk. And as a form of reconciliation," he placed a silver platter before the boy, "French toast with homemade whipped cream and powdered sugar. I figured something to sate your sweet tooth might settle you and convince you that I'm here to stay until you draw your last breath."

It had been a while since he had actually eaten anything, and Ciel's stomach gave a loud growl of excitement, which only embarrassed him further. "Erm…thank you. Is the mansion clean yet?" he added, remembering with a shudder the state it had been in a day earlier.

"How could I consider myself a Phantomhive butler if I could not manage such a simple task?" he queried with a reassuring smile. "The entire house is clean as a whistle, save for the kitchen where Bard is preparing lunch already and foregoing the hard work I put in to clean it last night. Finny is working the grounds a bit, and Maylene is in town selecting some new furniture for the rooms that were damaged beyond repair. Everything is running smoothly, and I thought you might be interested in reading this—" he dropped a newspaper onto the Ciel's lap. "A full account of everything that occurred yesterday."

"Full account?" the blue-eyed boy cried, grabbing the paper violently:

DIVINE INTERVENTION, (it read) HELL BREAKS LOOSE IN LONDON:

London was nearly uprooted yesterday, May 23rd, as Hellish monsters broke loose and began to destroy the city. Families fled in terror as what appeared to be "winged men with glowing eyes" came out of nowhere and began destroying buildings and hansoms. A mere 45 are actually dead and 408 still missing, but this can only be expected as thousands fled the heart of the city yesterday with little more than loved ones and the shirts off their backs. Even the elite Scotland Yard felt there was nothing that could be done. Strangely enough, when they returned with reinforcements that night, the chaos had not spread, and is estimated to only have reached about a two mile radius. Furthermore, there was nothing there when the men returned, save for a strange symbol about five by five meters scraped into the ground. Local Parish, Father Wilde claims that it is a sign from God that He sent angels to protect the city, and that it was He who put the fires out and banished the monsters away—"

"You call these facts?" he scoffed. "It's sensational rubbish."

"There's no way we could have covered it simply with so many witnesses, so the mark was left by the Reapers as they helped me clean up last night; it was Knox's idea. Everyone will buy into it being an apocalyptic disaster averted provided we keep leaving clues suggesting it as such. Scientists won't be pleased, but I think we can rest assured that they are a minority here." Sebastian sufficed concisely. "The entire paper is dedicated to various explanations and accounts, but the center of London is truly almost back to normal, so people are already returning. Shall I leave you to read?"

"Off to see the idiot, then?"

"…Young Master?"

"I didn't object, no." he said with a significant look.

"Yes, sir," he murmured with a faint smile and a polite bow. With that, he hurried to one of the guest rooms and knocked lightly, receiving a quiet "come in" as a welcome. When he entered, Grell was sitting in the window sill looking down at the grounds in an almost disbelieving stupor.

"You remember the training I attempted to give you back in the days of Madame Red when you were disguised as a butler yourself. Pretend it's like that again, great actress that you are. But the arrangements can be permanent providing you don't break anything or slack on work in your own world. I really don't think I can handle many visits from Spears. Do I make myself clear?"

"As an un-muddied lake, Sebby."

Sitting down beside the redhead, he raised an eyebrow. "So shouldn't you be happy?"

"Hm…" he pouted and considered this. "Now you be the actress, Sebby. If you were in my position, would you believe your luck?"

"It's not as if I've proclaimed my love to you or anything," he commented wryly.

Grell flinched visibly at the words, as though they carried an electric wave with them that drove straight down the spine of anyone they were addressed to. "You have not. But still—you aren't using me for sex anymore either."

"No. But I would call this infatuation with you before I would call it romantic," he spoke as he adjusted his white gloves, pausing to look at the Reaper's face; it was often difficult to judge what he was thinking and feeling based on his tone alone. Unfortunately, as he was quickly learning, Grell's facial expressions were often simply masks to what he was really thinking. At the moment, he looked rather placid, and sounded philosophical, though the demon's last comment warranted a tired smile.

"Being in love with you is going to be trying."

"Are you whining already?"

"Well the staff is terrible around here; I haven't even been served breakfast in bed yet, like I know a certain brat was!" he gave the black-haired man a petulant look.

"If you're hungry, you can get fix up a repast yourself. I only serve my master," he tried to speak sternly, but a fond smile kept tugging at his lips despite his best efforts. In an affectionate and very un-Sebastian-like fashion, he reached out to ruffle the hair of the Death God, who in a typical spur-of-the-moment flush of romanticism decided that he was done worrying about things, and latched onto the butler bodily.

"Ooh, Sebby~" and suddenly a pair of very hungry lips were pressing against Sebastian's. He wasn't about to deny that in lieu of all that had happened, he was a bit wired and in need of an outlet. But there was also a mound of chores to do, and also servants to order about.

"Grell, this is what nighttime is for," he grumbled into his new lover's cheek as the redhead kissed along his jaw line. Oh, god, he wasn't just kissing, he was downright mouthing at him, like he was something to be devoured… "Grell, no. Stop. That's a bad Grell—nn, there…yes…" So his ears were sensitive, what was wrong with that? He was still in complete control. Complete.

In two clumsy steps, they were standing astride the bed, and with a bit of maneuvering, they were atop it, Grell laying flush against Sebastian and rubbing his hips against the demon's while his hands worshipped his slender neck. "Won't wait 'till nighttime," he crooned, lathing Sebastian's flesh with his hot, damp tongue. "I need you now. Only you can reach into all those deep places…oh! I need to feel you, Sebastiaaan," Did he practice those little cries in front of a mirror?

Unable to contain himself, the butler leaned up to kiss the Reaper's face and to run his hands over his hips and along the curves of his thighs. Their hips were rubbing roughly against each other, creating beautiful friction and for the life of him, Sebastian knew there was no way in hell (ha, he thought with dry humor, Hell.) that he could stop now. Nor did he want to.

It wasn't particularly difficult to reverse their positions, especially since Grell preferred for Sebastian to take over, to press against him, to pull impatiently at his clothing, so desperately desiring to know what was beneath…He wondered absentmindedly how many new sets of clothes he would need to buy, and what they were going to cost him with a demon for a lover; if worst came to worst, he had no problem resorting to wearing Madame Red's old clothes.

Amazingly, feeling the black-haired man shift inside of him mere minutes later didn't scare him as he thought it might. After all, they had nearly killed one another mere hours ago, and yet forgiveness was a strange thing, and there they were, making love like a newly-married couple might in the morning light. But with a breathy: "Oh, yes…" he only held him tighter, his Sebastian, and smiled blissfully.

The springs of the mattress creaked slightly, as if resentful of the passionate activity occurring at such an hour. Neither man minded though. In fact, the shifting of the bed beneath them with every thrust only increased the desire for more. The light banter they had exchanged was replaced for only occasional gasps and whines, a stray "harder, please" and one "you look so lovely this way."

By the end of it, one of Grell's legs had been slung over Sebastian's shoulder, and the butler had made it his goal to kiss every inch of skin on the Reaper's body before he climaxed. The notion of being entirely covered in Sebastian's lips was enough to send him over the edge, however, and he clawed the bed sheets, uncoiling with more composure than in their previous nights together. The demon smiled and allowed himself to come undone as well, planting a final kiss on his hipbone before pulling away gently. He had not accomplished his goal of kissing everywhere, but he rather liked the idea of having it as a goal to strive for, to be able to take it so slow that he could completely consume Grell one night before bringing him.

"You were right when you said that loving me would be trying, but I'll make it worth your while," he promised with a small smile. "In return, make me want to love you as well. Deal?"

If the kiss he received then wasn't a glimpse into Paradise, Sebastian was sure he never wanted to see it.

It was much later in the day that Ciel got up the strength to venture into town in a carriage, accompanied by his loyal butler, and his new effeminate one. Town was indeed, remarkably well-cleaned. Most of the shops that had been destroyed and aflame previously were now being gutted, and the Queen would be proud to see how resilient her people were, already hard at work cleaning up and re-painting, though some simply looked around with fear in their eyes as though they expected to see the demons return.

Sebastian stopped and helped Ciel down outside a toy shop where his toys were sold, and which had been destroyed in the battles from yesterday. He received an earful for not helping "his lady" down as well, but this he accepted with a chuckle and a kiss over the eyelid in recompense.

"I'll tame you yet, naughty Sebas."

"Those nicknames will certainly do something to me, I don't know about taming me though."

"Hey, you lovebirds, ya gonna help clean up this shop, or what?"

Both men jerked up to see a very familiar young man standing before them, dressed as a laborer.

"Ronnie?"

"He~ey," he winked childishly. "I was sent by a certain suit-sporting birdie to supervise cleanup and make sure everything goes well. That alright with you? And might I recommend you at least make it look like you're working for the little tyke's sake?" he motioned to Ciel, who was speaking to the shop keeper, with his thumb.

"Does that mean things are alright back home?" Grell demanded to know.

"Well those that survived are alright," he answered with a shrug. "Tonight we're holding a mass funeral for those who were lost. Will you be there?"

The redhead nodded grimly. "Then what?"

"Then Spears makes everything alright, I guess," he mused. "Our troubles aren't exactly over, but if we don't start moving forward and fixing our mistakes, they never will be."

"How prophetic of you," Sebastian offered, "but now you're slacking as well. Let's all get to work so that Funtom can get the children of London through their hardships."

"Yes!"

"Oh, you're so romantic when you're focused!"

Sebastian only chuckled and led his god of death into the small store. Their shoes crushed small pieces of glass and fragments of toys, such as the coveted Peter Rabbit, beneath them. But it was alright. The demon's head was already churning with new ideas to provide the Phantomhive earl with. And Grell's fingers were interlaced with his own; he liked to imagine their heartbeats were harmonious as well, but didn't want to seem too sappy. This was a Reaper, after all. Give him an inch of romanticism, and he'd demand a rose garden.

TEH ENDUH.

Woo hope you liked :) Sorry if you didn't; obviously the flow was a bit interrupted. Nonetheless, I like to think that Sebby and Grell got on capitally and had many romantic adventures much to the dismay of a grumpy Bocchan, haha. Thank you for reading, let me know what you think if you like, (not that I really feel you're responsible for that at this point XD) and happy reading wherever you go. Keep supporting Sebastian, the Death Gods, and Earl Phantomhive through the manga and the anime (it came out in English the 11th of January) ^^ bye!

~aya