{A/N: Aight imma make this quick and/or at least directly relevant to compensate for the comedically overdone author's note from the last section. There's a link to a YouTube clip of a song attached to the top of this chapter. I've seen other writers add music to their stories that they think sets the right mood for those reading. I won't tell you play it before you begin if you don't think it'll enhance the experience. Reading one thing while trying to pay attention to another can be distracting. Still, if you do want to or get the chance to look back over part of the chapter while listening to the song it'd be worth your while! The song's not short and I made the chapter longer to account for that, but the lyrics repeat and are easy to understand. I do hope they in fact, enhance the experience if you so choose to peruse them. (*'∀')♪

The song is called "Illusion," by VNV Nation.}

He wanted to protect you for the sake of not being without you. That was not something he ever expected to feel. As you screamed at him, he didn't know how to react. He felt beholden to unfamiliar emotions, and it was debilitating, confusing, and completely human. Who were you? What did you mean to him? You had to stay. You couldn't leave. The word please never before conveyed what it meant to him then, and never before had it carried such weight.

"Why won't you let me DIE?" You remembered everything that happened. You were angry you were alive, you didn't want to live like this. Worst of all, you felt as though you had almost narrowly escaped this fate altogether. Peace eluded you, and the sting of having it been so recently lost was almost too much to bear.

You choked, blood flowing into the basin as you glared into the eyes of the one thing you had asked God not to send you. He had drawn a bath, in the very room Mey-Rin had cheerily rubbed salty, soapy water through your hair not even a day before. That seemed like a century ago, a forgotten, happier time. Another life, someone else had been that girl. There wasn't enough salt in a thousand imaginary oceans to expunge the man who had brought you here from this now terribly unhappy place.

You had been clear in your prayer, asking for anyone! Anyone but him! God, your father, they wouldn't send Sebastian! A demon could never be your saviour!

He was taking your clothes off just like they did, but his touch was far worse! Those men were at least human. It was human hands that had almost killed you! Why would God deliver you to Him only to have one of His greatest adversaries save you? Didn't He know you were fully prepared to die? Why would you remain here unless that devil had snuck in right at the last minute, like the serpent he was? He had to be lying, just as his predecessor did in The Garden of Eden. He was trying to comfort you. He was repeating himself. Over and over again.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" You heard him say something you knew simply had to be disingenuous. "Please, {Y/N}! You must listen to me!" That liar! That evil, manipulative thief! He would never say something like that sincerely. You weren't a fool, and you wouldn't be tempted only because you were dying. You'd lost all your will to live. He held nothing over you. Nothing he could say could interest you like he wanted. If you only knew what it truly was that he wanted, how simple it could be, you'd have given in at that very moment.

"Please! You'll only hurt yourself more!" He said it again. How many more times would he attempt to betray you? "Please!" He could rescue you, and he aimed to, he wished to, but how were you to know he wasn't lying, that he never did, not once in all the time he spent with you? Everything he ever told you was true. You could live, and for no other reason than being alive. No pact would be made. No deal, no bargain. He just wanted you to be alright. "Please, let me help you."

You were dying, but you could be healed. A human doctor wouldn't be able to help, but by his standards, this would be easily reprimanded. "You're not dying."

"The HELL I'm not!" You lost a significant amount of blood when you did your best to hit him the first several times, but he stopped you from doing any more harm as you attempted to strike him again. He was still holding you, and you did not want to die in his arms. You couldn't feel your hand after that, as a numbness began to dull the pain alongside almost the entire right side of your body. You found it hard to speak. "I already...told...you...let...me...DIE!"

You looked up, noticing that stupid violet hue that glinted from his otherwise deceptively human eyes had grown stronger. He did want your soul, but not in the way you thought. As far as you were concerned, this would be the perfect opportunity for him to steal it, to consume it. You believed your time was short, and that you had already gotten past the hard part

"No."

You were angry, incensed, as you fully believed he intended to test you, to take what he could not take or have, but that wasn't what he wanted.

He didn't want you to die, that's all he understood. The reason for his feelings still remained frustratingly unclear. All that mattered was that you would be there, the next day, and Ciel had said to take care of you, to ensure you'd be of continued use.

Completely intact with the men who did this to you dead would be the most useful way. But you'd already won. It wasn't an order for you to live. He wouldn't just write it off as that, even though he could. That wasn't the right way, even if it wasn't fully adherent to his aesthetics, he still wasn't breaking them. What bothered him the most about such an idea was that it was no longer his aesthetics as a butler he cared about.

You didn't mean anything to him. You meant nothing. You were vain, stupid weak, clearly predominantly useless, naive, but dying, your blood pouring out of your veins into the shallow water, your warm face growing sallow, then pale, pallid, your body becoming colder and heavier, you looked beautiful. You didn't know it then, but you already felt the same way about him once. The fist time you saw him that way was when he rescued you, and you knew it was him who was truly worth the fight. He was the rightful one for your final match, your true opponent, and ultimately something even more astounding.

He was beautiful to you from the moment he revealed even a glimpse of who he really was, though both of your struggles to avoid the truth about you both really were prevented an earlier breakthrough. It had been divinely ordained, which neither of you would ever have asked for, but that's not how God works, is it?

He didn't realise how intelligent his plan actually had been all along: how you'd be so grateful when he saved you that you'd foolishly think a God only you believed in would permit his intervention. It was intelligent because it wasn't his plan at all. He had gotten the idea from the very unseen, incomprehensible force which held him back before, for it had been constructed by the God you both knew, orchestrated and put into action long before that fateful day in the deep, dark woods. The Almighty had used him in His plan, and he was to be your saviour; one day, you'd return the favour. God would bless you both, in ways neither of you ever could have imagined.

He didn't think anything like that, at least not right then, and certainly not previously. He hated God, or didn't care about him, or even believe in him. He didn't care about God any more than he'd cared about you before. Yet here he was, holding you at arms length, completely powerless to prevent you from choosing God and Heaven over the ultimately less desirable alternative, here, earth, Hell, with him.

You could still choose to go towards the light, to ignore his repeated offers of help, and you both knew that. God couldn't force you to say alive, and why would you? Why would you want to stay here? Sebastian was suddenly reminded of what you'd said before, in your prayer. He was ultimately like this, alone, in the end, after the soul in his midst had gone away. He never cared before. He liked consuming them. It was required for him to continue being a demon, was it not? Why did that make him uncomfortable? For the second time, he questioned his life, his entire existence. What a horrible demon he had become, at the hands of a useless...weak...he couldn't call you that any longer. You were the strongest person he ever knew.

Why did he feel alone only when you did not want him around?

You'd live. You'd live because he'd lie to you, for the first actual time, and it would be something he could explain later. He'd think of a way. Now, he had to do what he apparently was good for after all.

"I do remember you {Y/N}, so I can't let you die, at least not yet. Don't you want to know why I kept that information from you for so long? You remember me, don't you? Don't you remember how you felt when you saw what I truly am, what I did to frighten you so? How did it make you feel? How did I make you feel? I want you to tell me. I know you said I was the one who made you believe in God in the first place. Before you meet him, don't you want to tell him who sent you?" He leaned in, relying on previous experiences to make it seem genuine, repeating former gestures, soft smiles, careful whispers, sweet words, all the sensual acts of persuasion.

He hated it. It seemed wrong to say it, at the very least it was incredibly distasteful. It had become difficult for him to lie. It felt rehearsed, the recitation of lies from a bad play. You still were a young girl, despite the fact that you were just as wise beyond your years as the even younger boy who had become your protector. Your families made you that way. All hail the conquering heroes. Still, there were cracks in your armour as well as his, and when it came to times like this, the cracks began to show. Even before now, you had never been made of stone. You were human after all, and no human could always be the impenetrable bastion of ferocity you believed yourself to be. You sometimes could be gullible, it was only natural, and Sebastian was a good actor. There would always be a starring role to fill, even in the worst of shows. It was a given that your perception was impeded, but a part of you was looking for any reason to accept what he said, even it was only to prove you were right.

"Now you tell me?" You consented. You had to ask him. "Why? And don't lie to me this time!"

"I'm not." It actually bothered him to do things this way, but it was all that could be done. "I remember wanting..." he couldn't finish. He had forgotten his lines! He was losing it! You weren't going to last long. If you only knew! Why couldn't he remember you? He wasn't lying! He never did! Why should you die because he couldn't do what you always believed demons did so well? "Wanting..."

You looked directly at him, the glow in his eyes no longer stupid, and for some inexplicable reason, you knew you'd been wrong before. You don't know what made you understand it, but it clicked, almost as though your prayers had been answered. He wasn't lying. And if he was, he believed it himself.

If he really did meet you before, he didn't remember it.

For the first time, you doubted yourself. Your hatred subsided momentarily, as you struggled to remain convicted. He had to be lying. You thought about it, and the more you did, the more quickly your hatred began to fade. He had to be lying. He had to be! You reminded yourself of what he was. He was evil! No...your doubt allowed for one final accusation, but your inner surrender rendered your claim obsolete. Was he telling the truth all along?

"You're...lying."

He had tried to. "I am." He moved his hand to your chest, noting how slow your heartbeat had gotten. This had gone on long enough. You were loosing too much blood. His voice actually shook. "It appears I was before, as well. You are dying."

"I...." you actually didn't want to be right anymore. "...know!" The touch of his hand on you, in such a protective way, made it seem like death had come too soon. You tried your best to ignore the feeling of hope that you'd live. Hevean was so close. You'd been through it all, and you would be home again, with your father, with God, and your mother, you so longed to finally meet her, the idea of the evil force who you'd really encountered all those nights ago not even worth knowing...

You stopped. Who you'd really met...if Sebastian truly was being honest...and he didn't remember you...was there someone else like him who neither of you knew of? Had something else entirely really almost taken your soul? What did make you believe in God? If that was the question Sebastian had asked you so many times before then he must have wanted to know the answer himself! Maybe...the two of you...were meant to find each other after all...you struggled, wrestling with the indecision brought on by his remarks.

Maybe you didn't want to die yet. It didn't matter. You were dying, and he wasn't getting your soul. It would be stupid and naïve in the extreme sense to think you could get out of this with your soul and your life.

"Do you want to?"

"What?" You felt his hand move from your heart, as he tried to lift you from the water, blood coated his shirt, staining the white of it red. It was one of the only times he wasn't completely cloaked in black. "What are you asking me? I will no-"

"Do you want to live?" He ran his hand down your side, finding the wound that all but cut you in two. "It's an easy question."

You didn't know what to say. He wasn't asking the way he'd asked Ciel, he didn't ask you to form a contract. He didn't elaborate. If he really wanted to do that, he could do it after you died. That's what he did with Ciel. Why was it so different with you? It made no sense unless...

"What...do...you........" you screamed. You didn't want to but you couldn't stop yourself. The pain had come back. The hardest part hadn't ended. Dying did seem a bit too easy.

He pulled you forward, so most of the sound was muffled by his neck. Ciel was still downstairs, working, alone. He shouldn't have to hear you cry. He'd been through so much already and to know that those men, even though they lost, got away with killing almost everyone they indented to, that was best experienced without hearing your cries of anguish all through the night to top it off. You hoped he'd fall asleep at his desk. He had to be tired. You didn't want him to hear you go out like this. He did look up to you.

"It's an easy question." He repeated, and you felt more conflicted than you ever had as you no longer felt cold, afraid, but warm, like so long ago, back on that one cold evening, when he held you just like this. He ran his hand down your hair, affectionately, and it immediately brought you back to that night, filling you with the same warmth. You adored that. You adored it and you didn't even realise how much you'd miss it.

Would you miss being alive? Or would you miss life because being in Heaven, leaving this world far behind, meant never seeing Sebastian Michaelis again?

Paradise seemed somewhat underwhelming, if not boring at that instant, but you didn't feel like such an idea was equivalent to forsaking God. You felt like God would want you to go, and maybe one day, you could both come back, together. That'd be worth the risk.

You prevented yourself from thinking more about it. You didn't have time. It was delusional. You'd lost so much blood. You couldn't properly make sense of anything.

"Yes...but...." you had to say it. You knew he'd take the chance if he could. "Not...you..." you held back another scream, before realising it allowed you to use your voice again.

"I want to keep my soul! I don't want to live if it means I owe you my life! I don't want anyone else to ever possess me without my consent again! I belong to no one! My soul belongs to me and me alone! You will never take it! Don't you dare steal my soul, Sebastian Michaelis! If that's going to happen, please just let me die!" The way you emphasised the word please was all he needed.

Pain flooded through every fibre of your being, you felt like you were being burned alive as you weren't sure if you were falling or being lifted back up. You screamed but you heard nothing except one thing, words which you never gave as much thought to as you should have, but then, they meant more than you ever knew.

"As you wish, {Y/N}."