Chapter 7

By the time His Lord would have been thirty, there have been more Child Skies then Jager cares to remember.

It seemed for every two Mafioso Skies there where four Child Skies chosen and somehow- Jager was more than certain that Checkerface bastard was behind it- every single Child Sky Arcobaleno had found their way onto his Lord's Doorstep. It pains him every time he opens that door to a childish face and that cursed pacifier around the young one's neck like a noose that's slowly tightening so none will notice until its too late.

Jager makes it his duty to remember the children's names and bits of information about them, but he can no longer bring himself to actively attempt growing closer to them- none last longer than ten months no matter what anyone tries- so he leaves their care to the maids and household staff.

The town graveyard is filled with more children than elderly these days.

Speculation spreads around the town of a plague that only targets children and soon it's near impossible to catch sight of any children out on the streets as worried parents began to lock their offspring within the sanctuary of their home- even the street kids had been picked up by Pastors willing to house the young.

His Lord is or rather would be thirty-two when Checkerface shows his face again.

The humanoid speaks of gathering the rainbow again- all seven united once more- to break the curse. For some reason, the creatures words-his promise- sends a chill of dread down Bermuda's spine. Despite the creature's previous deceptions, Jager cannot stop himself from feeling a faint sense of hope and judging from the look in Jack's eyes nor could the rouge. Still, neither of them had forgotten and taken measures to ensure this time they would not be caught off guard.

——————

He's dying.

His Cloud Flames had been torn from his very being and it was only through Jager's intervention the emerald eyed teen still had the pacifier.

Still, even with his Sky Flames, something important is missing and he can only watch in silent horror as his skin peels itself off his bones. If he's honest, Bermuda never thought he would live long- Fate just seemed out to get him from day one- and he wouldn't have minded had it not been for the prone forms not to fall from where he, himself, had fallen.

Jager and Jack- His Cloud and His Storm- are right there, just within the corner of his eyes, yet he cannot feel them. Where their Bonds usually stood within His Sky is a blank endless void that all but screams at him.

Bermuda had never been so terrified in both his lives.

Emerald eyes slowly move away from the two and onto the creature that had caused this: Checkerface.

That abomination just stands there, staring down at him in confusion.

"You should be dead by now."

For the first time in his life, Bermuda could feel something burning deep within his gut; something he had only tasted yet never truly felt before: Hatred.

This abomination had killed them: had stolen Jager from him, stolen Jack from him, and was now telling him he wasn't dying quick enough for the other's taste?!

Glowing emerald eyes met the creature's mask as the teenager forced his falling apart body to lunge forward.

"I'll kill you!"

He's blinded by fury and grief to the point Bermuda doesn't quite remember what happened- it was nothing more than a blinding blur of Mist Flames and the utter desire to rip the humanoid's head from its shoulders. When he comes to, Checkerface is gone, the only beautiful field has been eradicated and he sits- cursed once more- in the ruin by two corpses with Black Flames blazing around him. Though the two corpses are falling apart, Bermuda easily recognizes them.

'Its just a simple meeting, Lord Bermuda. What's the worst that can happen?'

The worst, it appears, was their Deaths.

No one hears his screams and no one is there to stop him as he rips into his own Flames- tearing off pieces of them alongside slivers of his magic and very soul- before shoving them inside the corpses.
———————

Jager honestly didn't expect to wake again.

He shouldn't have woken again, the dark-haired man could clearly remember dying- an agony of having his flames torn from his being as the Creature stole both them and the pacifier- while attempting to kill the Traitor known as Checkerface. The last thing Jager recalls was seeing His Lord- emerald eyes wide in horror as flesh peeled off the other's bones, yet the horror had been for his sake and not the teens own- before the golden-eyed man had hit the ground.

Jager was certain he had been dead upon impact so how was it he was currently staring at his bedroom's ceiling?

Had it all been a dream, a nightmare, of what could come?

Slowly the golden-eyed man sat up, a hand reaching upwards to brush his long hair out of his face, only to freeze at the sight of bandages covering not only all his hand but his arm as well. Make that both his hands, quickly the dark haired man pushed back the covers only to find all his skin was covered by the bandages. It does not take Jager long to lunge out of bed and to the nearest mirror- which strangely enough had been covered by a thick quilt.

His reflection is that of a mummy with hair in loose-fitting clothe and only one golden eye visible.

Exactly what had happened? It doesn't take Jager long to loosen the bandages and figure out exactly why he had been so tightly wrapped. Seconds past before a shrill scream- that sounds suspiciously like Jack- pierces the air from the other side of the house.

Within his bedroom, Bermuda listens to the two run around in panic yet makes not a sound as he waits for them to come seeking answers. When the two finally appear before him, Bermuda has then sat down before proceeding to tell them the Truth. He tells them everything from the strange Black Flames to what he has done to them, why he has done it and what it means.

The harsh silence all but crushes him as he waits for the yelling and cursing, the screaming and shouting, the righteous fury. Instead, he is greeted by a large smile as Jack speaks up.

"Does this mean we can use my 'Mummy Gentlemen' idea for creating the Vindice?"

"If we do I'm still the Right Head."

"Absolutely not! The Storm is always the right hand!"

"Not on your life!"

"Good things we're already dead then, huh?!"

"Then maybe I should put you back into the ground!"

Bermuda cannot help the tearful laughter on his lips as the Arcobaleno watched the two descend into another brawl over who should be the right hand. He wonders why he ever worried.

———————

Creating the Vindice and in turn, Vendicare is easy.

Bermuda has plenty of money- gold, jewels, and priceless artifacts lying inside vault he never knew he had before then- to fund the project. They sneak into Mafia Headquarters during the dead of night, using rifts formed from the Black Flames, to leave behind heavy novels which contain 'the Laws' on the current Dons desk.

In Bermuda's opinion, the hardest part of forming the Vindice is the uniform- he had stared upon the different uniforms both Jager and Jack had brought back onto to find them lacking- so he takes matters into his own toddler-sized hands. The basilisk hide and Acromantula silk suits may be expressive but the feeling in the back of Bermuda's head tells the emerald-eyed Lord it will be worth it.

The Cloaks Bermuda made by hand- carefully entwining his Black Flames into the material- Leaving his fingers a bloody mess by the time he's done. Its well worth the pain though: Flames do not work on the cloak, bullets and weaponry go through them as though they are ghosts and not even magic will affect the wearer. It's almost as though the Black Flames- The Flames of Night. The Flames of Hatred for they were born of his Hate- cancels out everything that touches them.

The original outline for the Vindice uniform did not have chains in their designs- Though he and Jack had skill using the chains they weren't professionals. Jack was more likely to knock out his own team than the enemy- Jager soon corrected that. Jack's screams of a 'Sadist Spartan Tutor from the Darkest Depths of Hell' still ring in Bermuda's ears.

Vendicare is built within a frozen wasteland to ensure those that can escape will sooner die then by reach freedom.

For a week it stays empty, with only the three mummified Night Flame users to roam its vast halls. Once the week is up though, the Mafioso have decided to either crawl out from under their rocks or that they were above the Law. As Jager would later be famous for saying: 'No one is above the Law' and the Vindice are there to prove it.

Soon the whole of the Mafia learns to fear mentions of 'their personal Shinigami'-whispering fearfully of devils, monsters, and demons that lurk within the shadows.

Checkerface, on the other hand, has vanished without a trace, despite their best efforts they never seem able to find so much as a whisper of the creature. If not for their current states of being, the three likely would have believed him to be but the faint echoes of a Nightmare.

———————

Jager will not lie.

He hates Checkerface. He loathes the creature who had chosen children to be the Sky. He loathes the creature that had stolen his flames- and is life- with that pacifier, leaving only a stone mockery behind. His Lords Black Flames are more then enough testimony for that fact. Yet it is not for himself, that Jager sought revenge.

He sought revenge for the children that showed up on their doorstep with that cursed pacifier around their necks.

Always so hopeful. Always to naïve and innocent.

He sought revenge for the menace, who while he was always attempting to get rid of, did not deserve to die like that.

Jack stood in front of the shattered mirror, a wild hysterical gleam within his eyes as the other attempted to deny reality.

He sought revenge for the betrayal which leads to the permeant deaths of the other Arcobaleno.

A Mist of a Hitman who just wanted freedom, A Sun of a Scientists with questionable morals who just wanted to forget, and a Lightning Black Widow that was always running from her past.

He sought revenge for Bermuda; His Lord who he had sworn his life to protect from the moment they met and failed when it mattered most.

The dark haired teen lying on the ground, emerald eyes wide with horror that was not for the flesh peeling off his own bones but rather for Jager and Jack. 'Run!' It was the first time either of them had directly disobeyed an order because they could not- would not- leave him behind and at that creatures mercy. It was because of their loyalty Their Lord had been forced to watch them be cut down without a moment's hesitation. 'Jager! Jack!'

Jager would not lie; He despised Checkerface for the lives the humanoid had ruined. For the needless deaths that lied upon the creature's hands. For the state of His Lord, who was still cursed and full of hatred he should never have felt. When the time came, Jager would kill him: He would bring Justice for those who had already perished and revenge for those who still lived- even in their own twisted way.

—————-

Chapter 8

Seasons came and seasons went.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years and years into centuries. When you were dead- or as close to death as one could be while still living- time really had no true meaning. Go to take a five-minute nap and you would wake five years later. 'You do not rest enough as it is Lord Bermuda. We didn't want to disturb you now that you finally were, my arse.' Still no matter how much time passed one thing never really changed:

Paperwork.

If Bermuda had been any less composed he likely would have started screaming and pulling at his own hair upon noticing the devilry that sat innocently- openly mocking him- upon his desk and floor. Did he even have a floor? Who knew? All Bermuda could see was a sea of paper and ink.

"Jager?"

"Yes, Lord Bermuda?"

"Why is the paper moving?"

"Ah... Well, you see Lord Bermuda. We originally stacked the papers but they fell after a minor issue and no one has been able to find Jack since. We're half certain he's still buried in this room somewhere."

Half certain?

"And the other half?"

Honestly, Bermuda wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Some speculate the paper has become sentient and is constantly attempting to escape the room."

"And what do you think, Jager?"

A lone golden eye glanced down at the Night Arcobaleno before focusing back on the sea before them.

"Considering its Jack we lost in here and how long he's been here... I wouldn't be surprised if it was a mixture of both."

Bermuda took one look at the solemn look in Jager's eyes and body language before allowing his hands to alight in Night Flames. He could deal with Jack's sentient food that always tried to eat them but Bermuda drew the line at sentient paperwork. He already had enough Nightmare Fuel, thank you very much.

——————-

It's hard to care for the lives of others when they pass by so quickly.

One moment you would be standing there, helping a lost child finds its way home, and the next you would be watching a coffin be lowered into the earth. Lives were flicker- all one had to do was blink and they would be gone- to the point that getting attached was all begging for the pain and heartache that followed.

Jager had learned this lesson quickly. His Lord and the redhead menace, on the other hand, did not.

Oh, how it pained the golden-eyed man to watch the two-especially Lord Bermuda, who gave pieces of himself out to anyone willing to hold onto them- invest so much of themselves into living creature, to willingly set themselves up for so much agony and suffering. It hurt, even more, to watch as the small temporary happiness crashed down around the two.

He couldn't keep watching them do this to themselves so he steps in.

Jack takes it as one would exact- with his fiery temper blazing alongside his Flames- while His Lord sits quietly upon his throne. Lord Bermuda says not a word as he watched Jager tear into the redhead, his hands all the while holding onto a scarf that looks as though someone has taken a piece of the night sky and made it into a wearable material- a gift from the recently deceased Angelica Lovegood, if Jager's memory serves him well. It only strengthens Jager's resolve.

He would not allow anything to hurt His Lord, not even His Lord himself.

———————

Sometimes Bermuda thinks he lives in a Mad House, other times he's certain of it.

"Jager, where did the child come from?"

The emerald-eyed Arcobaleno kept his voice light as he watched confusion dance within Jager's one visible eye.

"Lord Bermuda? What child?"

Had he honestly not noticed? It wasn't like the golden-eyed man to overlook something so obvious.

"The one clinging to the hem of your cloak, Jager."

Glancing downwards, the first thing Jager noticed was the truffle of blond hair and wide orange eyes staring up at him with open wonder. For a moment, silence filled the throne room as three sets of eyes stared at the small toddler before:

"What the Fuck?! Jager, you hypocrite!"

For some reason, Bermuda got the feeling it was less of Jager being a hypocrite and more of the fact the dark haired man honestly didn't know he had a tag along. The thought alone had a frown forming beneath Bermuda's bandages, not many people could hide their presence from- let alone get close enough to touch- Jager after all.

The child's name it turned out was Giotto, a street orphan from Italy, who had grabbed ahold of Jager because 'a voice in the back of my head told me I needed to'. Wasn't that a concerning thought. Bermuda resolved to check the child over to see if he was being possessed by a wayward spirit or was unknowingly hosting another soul.

Both tests came back negative.

Later there would be a battle between Jack and Jager on wither to keep the child 'since the voice obviously wants us to fucking keep him' or send him to an orphanage. It would be the first time out of many that Bermuda would have to locate and reattach all of Jack's limbs.

————

For the first time since having his flames torn from his being, Jager thanked every deity he knew that his nerves had long since died.

"I'm almost done, Jager."

Small gentle hands braced the bottom of his chin as glowing emerald eyes focused slowly on their task. Though he couldn't feel it, he can see the black thread being weaved in and out of his skin as His Lord worked on sewing his lips shut to keep the bottom half of his face from falling off.

Some lucky Mafioso- well as lucky as a now blood spatter could be lying forgotten within the ruins that had once been a Famiglia Headquarters- have almost taken half his face off when the other's prototype weaponry had slipped his guard.

His Lord had not taken kindly to it in the least. Until that moment, Jager had never been aware it was possible to blow someone up with one's glare alone. It was terrifying to watch as His Lord's temper reined supreme.

"Done."

His Lord's voice was soft as the other slowly let go of his chin- those eyes watching him like a hawk- yet kept his fingers close in case the Acromantula silk thread was not enough. It feels strange, in all honesty, he's half tempted to attempt speaking- if only to see if he still could- but it must show in his eyes for His Lord grants him a stern look- Maybe he had rubbed off on Bermuda after all? - which is all too familiar.

"Don't. If you must try, wait until morning. "

Since he cannot speak, Jager gives His Lord a nod of acceptance.

Bermuda does not bother reapplying the bandages onto Jager's face- No matter how he looks, corpse or not, Jager would always be Jager- electing instead to make himself comfortable in the other's hold. Jack, wisely, keeps his silence instead of making a jab like he usually would have done.

—————-

Bermuda could feel his ears bleeding- literally- at the loud screeching noise echoing throughout the halls.

"What is that damnable noise?"

"Jack," The 'Oh God someone kill me now' tone accused causing emerald eyes to glanced over to where Jager was attempting to suffocate himself with the couch's cushions. Unfortunately for Jager, the dark-haired man no longer needed oxygen so Bermuda didn't see it happening anytime soon.

"Jack?"

A lone golden eye- full of an intensity that had the hairs on Bermuda's neck stand at attention- glanced up from the pillows to meet emerald.

"The menace has decided he wants to create a new type of music."

"..I see..." Well, that wouldn't do. It was still too soon for the creation of Rock music. "Jager."

"Yes, Lord Bermuda?"

"Obliterate whatever he's using to make that ruckus."

Bermuda was certain the Devil himself would have fled from the smile- if it could even be classified as that seeing how many teeth it showed- which spread across the other's face.

"With pleasure."

Unfortunately for Jack, Bermuda hearing was 'damaged' during the rouge's attempt at creating a new style of music so the Vindice Leader could not hear the redhead's screams echoed around Vendicare.

——————

"I would like to form an Alliance between Vongola and The Vindice-"

"We refuse."

"Wait I-"

"We, of The Vindice, are a Neutral Party. We side with none; We favor none."

Vongola wasn't the first Famiglia to attempt to alley themselves with them but Jager had to admit; Vongola Primo was a stubborn young man. The blond haired man had written them weekly for months until Bermuda had lost his tolerance and order Jager to deal with the problem.

"Bu-"

"Continuing to peruse this issue and Vongola Famiglia will be relocated to Vendicare; permanently."

Though he was technically a walking corpse, Jager was quite certain no one- not even he- was meant to be as pale as the Vongola Primo had been during that moment.

"You can't.. They haven't-"

"They have willingly laid their Fates within your hands the moment they became a part of your Famiglia, Vongola Primo. Your fate is their own. Though they may not be amongst us now, they are aware of your plans. They can and will be tried as accomplices. For their sakes and your own, We suggest you chose your next actions carefully."

Vongola Primo, he might be, but it was obvious the man still had a lot to learn. A look crossed the blonde's face as he opened his mouth before closing it before opening it again.

"I would like to offer my sincerest apologies but I fear We of the Vongola will have to withdraw our offer of an alliance."

Huh, it would appear this one actually did see his Famiglia as more than just throwaway pawns. Had things been different, Jager had the feel he- and Lord Bermuda- would have liked this man.

"We of The Vindice accept Vongola's apologies but grant fair warning: Shall this happen again, none of Vongola will be left standing."

The blond haired man nodded his head.

"We understand."

——————

When living in Vendicare there were two things one had to become used to:

The First where the Screams.

No matter what happened or the time they never seemed to stop. It had taken the emerald-eyed Chibi awhile but he eventually learned to ignore them... and maybe sometimes use them to set a tempo when practicing a new dance style. What? It's not like they were good for much else.

The Second was Escape Attempts.

Few of these attempts ever got far, but every now and then there was some lucky soul who managed to slip past the Vendicare staff, Jack and Jager. Though these events were rare Bermuda fount he enjoyed them the most- No, it wasn't an excuse to escape his paperwork. Why ever would one think that?- as they allowed him to become involved.

He loved the thrill of the chase, the scent of their fear as he stalked them from the shadows- twisting their minds into believing he was the shadows- how they screamed about demons lurking within the darkness as Jager or Jack would finally locate his prey and drag them deeper into the prison.

Human minds were fragile- if you twisted them too much they would break and shatter into millions of piece- so maybe that was why Bermuda enjoyed playing with them. Or maybe Jack had been onto something when the rouge accused him of being a 'sadistic adrenaline junkie'...

Nah, that couldn't possibly be it. After all, he was both a Savior and The Golden Boy.

Elsewhere, Jager and Jack shared a glance as unholy crackles- dripping with a tone so dark it sent shivers of dread down their spines- echoed throughout the halls of Vendicare.

"Jack, you did put away the coffee this morning, didn't you?"

"...Fuck..."

——————

There was one Law within Vendicare that even the prisoners knew:

Bermuda was not allowed within ten feet of coffee.

While His Lord loved the caffeine drink- going so far as to proclaim it the Gods gift to Mankind- the emerald-eyed Arcobaleno always had a strange reaction to it. Even though he was a corpse, Jager could not stop himself from shivering as he recalled the past phenomenon that still haunted his Nightmares.

"Well then... Since you're going to be busy, I'll deal with the prisoners-"

"Like Hell you are. You left out the coffee you deal with it."

"But Bermuda likes you better Jager. Everyone knows that."

"Bullshit."

"You're also his right hand-"

"I thought the Storm was always the right hand."

"Good thing I'm no longer a Strom then."

"Maybe you don't have the Flames anymore but you're still Harmonized as His Storm Guardian."

The two men glowered at one another, neither willing to back down as neither wished to Deal with the Chaos and Destruction they knew were awaiting them, before simultaneously allowing their chains to fall upon the marble floor.

Later, Bermuda would stumble across the two and wonder how they managed to accidentally dismember themselves into so many little pieces. Despite being capable of speech, neither of the severed heads were willing to answer when questioned. It would take the Night Arcobaleno three days to figure out which pieces belonged to who and another four to restore both bodies into working order.
——————

There are New Arcobaleno.

The first time Bermuda meets one, he's accompanying Jager and Jack in collecting a Famiglia that has broken Omerta, though it would appear this Famiglia has not only broken Omerta but had gotten greedy as well. They originally arrive expecting to be collecting hundreds of souls but by the time they arrive, there is less than a dozen still alive. It doesn't take them long to stumble across the culprit behind a sea of bodies in the form of a toddler-sized infant with dark blue hair and a green pacifier around their neck.

It would appear Checkerface has finally decided to crawl out whatever rock he was hiding beneath once more. Bermuda is too distracted trying to keep his ire- and in turn his Flames- from making an unexpected appearance to feel the slight click as His Lightning finds its way into His Sky. Jager and Jack- able to sense Their Lords Flames blazing beneath his skin- act quickly as chains ensnare their prey.

The three Vindice are gone as quickly as they appear leaving a rather baffled Alejandro behind.

If not for the fresh Bond to a Sky- he knows wasn't there five minutes ago- within his mind, the cursed Lightning Arcobaleno would have thought he imaged the rather brief meeting. As it is, the spy/part-time information broker stares at the space the Vindice- the fucking Shinigami's of the Mafia and what he was certain had been an Arcobaleno he had never meet before- had disappeared from in open confusion.

Slowly his head turns towards his closet Gingerbread Dolls.

"Did The Vindice just steal My Sky?"