A/N: Can I just say, first things first, that I am unimaginably sorry for creating this and publishing it to the world. So, so sorry. Please forgive me. It was the plot bunnies, I swear. They had guns.
This was inspired by the Tumblr post from mayangelsfall. A link to the post on my blog because the comments really made it: boomboomtssh .tumblr (dot-com-slash because bloody FF) post /95575414853 /thespywhospies-the-lizard-hunter-sociopath. Just remove the spaces.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Farewell O Forgotten Memories
The Angel was glowering at him, hand clenched around his blade and legs tense, ready to pounce. The Demon could feel the shifting of his Grace, see the fractured shards of light as his wings arched, his anger and power straining to touch the Heavens above them.
The Demon crouched, arms forward and ready to receive him. The Angel charged. He caught him, skin prickling as the Grace singed his skin. The Demon forced the attacking hands downwards, the blade missing him by inches, and the dance step was over.
They parted again and the Demon knew he could never win, could never hope to overpower such a creature fuelled by fury and justice and heart. The Heart, the Demon remarked to himself, while being the Angel's greatest strength, was treacherous. And it was to become his greatest weakness.
As the Angel circled him, ready to attack again, the Demon could hear the Human calling to him from his cage.
Don't! it pleaded. Oh God, please don't!
The Demon laughed at being called such a name. They both knew what he had to do.
The Angel sprang towards him again, crashing into him with such a force that for a moment the Demon was unsure if he would be able to withstand it. He prevailed, however, and the plan began. The arms that caught the Angel were gentler; an embrace so far from the restraint of before. This seemed to surprise the Angel, and his blue eyes that were filled with so much Grace it hurt to look at them as they turned to his. The Demon forced himself not to squint against the bright, keeping his eyes soft. Human.
The Angel's face went slack, disbelief and reluctant, treacherous hope seeping into his eyes. "Dean?" he whispered.
The Demon smiled. A warm, comforting smile that made his stomach heave in revulsion. "I'm here, Cas," he made himself say. "It's me."
No! the Human was crying. Please no!
"Dean." The Angel's crushing grip on his wrist slackened. "Dean, you have to fight it!"
"I am fighting it," the Demon assured him. "But he's strong. I can't hold him down for long."
"What can I do?" the Angel asked, and the Demon almost laughed aloud at the desperate hope in his eyes. "Tell me what I need to do, Dean."
The Demon said nothing and only pulled the Angel closer. He looked confused, stepping hesitantly into the Demon's embrace but relaxing at the hand that ran through the black, battle-swept hair.
"Dean, what –?" he asked, and the Demon silenced him with a kiss. The final step. The Human was screaming.
The Demon felt the Angel's Grace swell with joy and heart as their lips met, until it was abruptly extinguished by the cold metal of the blade stabbing through his chest.
They broke apart, and the Demon grinned as his opposite stared in disbelief at the knife through his heart, both their hands twined around the hilt still. He looked up to meet the Demon's eyes, and saw him then for what he truly was.
The Angel blinked. "Dean?" he said weakly.
The Demon's smile grew. "Not Dean," he said. "No Dean here anymore."
The Angel reached up, so very slowly, to cover the black of his eyes, to pretend once more. The Demon let him. "Dean..." he whispered as the life slid from the hole in his Heart.
A/N: SORRY! I'm still crying with the feels myself, I just kind of wanted to inflict the pain upon you lot as well. Please review with all the death threats you like for creating this marvellous abomination.