A/n: before you read you should know this takes place after the arc where they're on that fucking ship I can't name for the life of me. It takes place after they were saved at the end. If you haven't read the manga, just know Sebastian got beat real bad yo, and by Undertaker. In this universe Madison got stabbed by Undertaker in the side of her stomach.

This is just a little break between the whole Undertaker drama. This is a flashback. And a Sebastian x OC chapter.

In the situation that she was in, she never expected to be. She never thought her life would pin point to this moment. Not that she was disappointed, but at this point in her life she really didn't expect very much at all. She thought she'd be dead by now or at least consumed by her demon half. She really didn't think her own master would send his butler to take care of her. She didn't think she meant sk much to Ciel. Not at all. She didn't think she'd ever mean anything to anyone, and her she's found herself in such a generous place where so many people would cry over her death; Finny, Bard, Meirin, and maybe even Ciel. In this moment she felt so grateful for everything she has. She felt her heart lighten, and her chest felt like a balloon, weightless.

"What is it?" Sebastian asked, noticing her smile. He looked at her somewhat interested, Madison was one of those people he had genuine interest in, no matter how small it was. Tonight, something ticked. He didn't expect it as much as he didn't expect tonight to go the way it did. She was interesting, but also more than that. But he dare not venture to describe how he felt about this...unique person. Seeing her, now, made him remember of memories long since past. Things he once believed were buried. Seeing her brought a-for lack of better word-special warmth to him. It made him feel most comfortable...he couldn't even dignify her with sincerity.

Madison looked at him a little shocked at first, she didn't realize she was so far gone into her thoughts. Normally, she would mask her emotions with witty remarks and suggestive flirtations. She would put up a facade same as him. They were evenly matched when she did, because they were both faking steel. It was fun and it brought comfort to both of them, knowing there was another like them, so similar it was scary. When one broke down it scared the other, so similar, in the moment of weakness It was looking in a broken mirror, or a clear one. It was a terrifying picture.

When Madison played the piano, when she cried and screamed and sang. A sandstorm of grit and beauty, a gritty nail with a beautiful sound. Something that hurts but you can't help but listen, but cry. It was captivating and heartbreaking, truly crushing and dying. When Madison displayed her decaying soul, her unstable truth, emotion, Sebastian was truly terrified. The first one to break was Madison, of course, he could've predicted that, she was half human and thus weaker. He didn't realize the effect of seeing her in dust would have such an effect on him. He didn't predict that it would do anything, to him. And when seeing her there, drowning, he was terrified of what she stirred and that he couldn't tell you what it was.

So, until now, they pretended to be perfect and untouchable, invulnerable. The piano never happened, they agreed silently.

"Are you happy?" She asked suddenly, completely ignoring Sebastian's question. Truthfully they both forgot what he asked.

Sebastian looked at her truly confused. He then searched for a logical reason, why she asked that. She was being witty and wanted to catch him off guard. She wanted to toy with him like a cat and yarn, like she always did. And he truthfully thought it was endearing and entertaining, allowing her to have her fun with him, and then she would do the same for him. It was a carefully laid out game, the rules in the balance. Whatever game they had was gone now. The light has turned off, and he's stuck in the black.

When he found no traces of insincerity, sarcasm, and cleverness in her face. Only sad genuine curiosity, she looked so broken yet so happy and he didn't know what to make of it. She looked-..She was.. He felt-...he wished he so so wished he found traces, etchings, hints, any remnant of their dead game. Blackness.

She then smiled at him and be felt even more afraid. Her smile looked both calming and terrifying. He was afraid looking at her, the remoteness the darkness the back surrounding him again. Here was no light no rules no toll. She looked at him stripped, and he found she was too. He couldn't lie to this girl, nor hide. Blackness, but she was there.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she said. "I already know the answer anyway." She then smiled, but this one was removed from happiness and was only empty. Their game in her face, but it was sad and shameful. Unfashionable.

"You do?" He asked.

"I don't know. I assume no, because you're similar to me," she said. His heart stopped.

"We're similar?" He asked, but it sounded less like a question and less for her. He was trying to hold onto the game the had, he wanted to know, be in control.

"I know it may be bold to say that, but I think so. We're both meant for an empty ending, no happiness will come from us," she said, smile gone.

She looked away from him, but she never was looking at him to begin with. He then began removing her clothes, in order to get her in the bath. He meant to take care of her, as Master Ciel requested. He needed to get her bathed and into clean clothes, as well as dress her wounds and make sure they're not infected. She was silent and oddly compliant to his small tugs of her clothes and skin to silently tell her to lift her arms, drop them, and bend slightly, whatever he needed to get the stained garments off.

He didn't like her like this most of all. He didn't like her having given up, it was undignified and ugly. This was not someone he was interested to see.

"I disagree." He said surprising himself. It was while her dress was over her head so her voice came out muffled.

"How so?"

"You have many people who care for you. The others at home, and master himself. I know him and he is sincerely fond of you, more than most," he said. Silence came from Madison. He sensed her disagreeing with him.

"You are not uncared for. Many people would miss you if you were to disappear," he said, face stoic.

And her clothes were gone. She was...a mess. A beautiful, hot mess. Dried blood covered her stomach and especially her right side. Bruises and small cuts kissed her skin, like light whispers. He noticed that it looked both soft and gritty. He resisted an unexpected urge to touch her skin, just once. Her hair. Her hair was freshly cut by the Undertaker during their brawl. He held her by the pony tail and she cut it off to get away. He looked at the bundles of long pieces at the front, like survivors. He looked at the short pieces nostalgically, if he could he missed her long hair. How vain of him, he scolded himself. Describe how ruined she looked, she was still oddly charming and beautiful. He couldn't look away from her skin, her face, the bruises. He quickly memorized where each was.

She was not modest and didn't try to cover her breasts. But she did look at him, undyingly. She looked at him as if her life depended on it or he was a painting she couldn't look away from. He was too captivating.

"You know..." She began. "The same could be said for you."

Complete silence, as blackness choked him. It suffocated him so much, so much, so much. He couldn't breath and he was dying. Dying, decaying, turning to dust, like her, the piano. She was there. She was...there. Singing to him as he drowned.

"Come," he said suddenly. He tugged at her wrist and pulled her to the bath.

He helped her lay in the warm water. The water began to turn pink from her blood. She sighed in relief, allowing the previous conversation to brush over her. She didn't want to be worried by emotional stress, not right now.

He rolled up his sleeves and took a towel, washed away the visible dirt and blood from minor cuts. He avoided lingering on her body too much, he didn't want to be swallowed up again. He avoided touching her skin with his completely, or else he might...

He cleaned up the dried blood on her abdomen, where she was stabbed. The wound was nearly completely healed already, showing off the abilities of a half demon. He noted how quickly she healed, it was slower than him but still much faster than a regular human. He then took gauze and wrapped it around her waist, covering the remaining wound.

And she laughed suddenly. It was a bubbly, genuine laugh, and he hated that he liked the sound of it.

"What is it?"

"The situation we're in. I'm completely naked and you look so afraid, like you'll be caught looking or something." She laughed again. He grimaced. She was right. He was avoiding looking at her at all costs, same with touching her. He tried to lace the gauze around her without accidentally touching her skin. He was afraid of how he'd-

"Here." She covered her breasts with her crises arms. He still refused to meet her eye.

She laughed again.

"I want to protect your modesty as much I can, so excuse me if I displease you by not looking at you. I don't mean to be rude," he said, hoping she'd stop laughing.

She only giggled and his chest ached. He liked the sound of her laugh.

Once she was bandaged, he gave her a nightgown and undergarments and helped her change. She was still very weak from blood loss and her wound made it hard for her to move much without causing pain.

He looked at her then. Fully, in the eye and he searched her face completely. He'd spent what seemed like so so long avoiding her face. And he realized he never appreciated her beauty before. True, she was breathtakingly beautiful. She was truly blessed (ha blessed). He knew this because her face was appealing and human men would drool all over her no matter what she did. It was like she casted a spell on whoever was lucky enough to just look at her. She casted her will among them to admire and love her without her having to speak. And when she would dazzle them with engaging conversation, a witty brain. Entertaining and charming, but smart and clever. Many loved her and it was hard not to. He knew all of that because he knew the effect she created, it was like what he had but with women instead of men. He knew because of observation, but now. Just having laughed, and fresh from a bath, smiling, eyes bright, hair wet, she looked truly magnificent, gorgeous. Something he never acknowledged before now, she was a beacon of warmth and comfort. He wanted to be near her always, to be welcome and never rejected. It was hard to ignore such an aura she exerted.

"What about you?" She asked then.

"What about me?"

"You're hurt, much worse than me."

"I thank you for your concern, but-"

"Stop."

Silence and shock.

"Stop talking like that."

"Be genuine with me. I don't want you to speak a word that isn't yours. No smile that isn't yours."

"I don't care that you won't smile at me- I don't...I..."

She didn't look at him she was afraid of what is face might say. Confusion. Annoyance, rejection-she recoiled.

"Nevermind, you can-"

He smiles and takes her up in his arms. She looked at him then. The soft smile on his face. She couldn't stand it. She didn't know if it was genuine or not. But she avoided making a scowl, she didn't want to offend him or his goddamn aesthetic.

"I promise."

Silence. She felt his hands grip her tighter, as if afraid of dropping her.

He laid her down onto the bed. He put the covers over her. In complete silence he put the covers over her. She wouldn't stop looking at his face. It was completely blank, since the smile it's been emotionless. She felt a fog. A smoky mass create in her chest. As if it were about to reveal her heart.

When he lay her there and tucked her in he lingered there. He went suddenly stiff, stuck in his tracks, hovering over her form, inches away. He looked into nothing, staring beyond the covers, but avoiding her eyes like a fire.

She felt exhaustion come over her like a blanket. It's always been hovering over her. All day like a ghost and suddenly it fell. The moments of silence cut it down. She looked at him while she lay her head down. She looked at him curiously, no thoughts passed through her.

Her eyelids became heavy and her eyes felt like dust needing to be swept away by eyelashes.

And she closed her eyes while she was watching him. After a hesitant moment, she felt slim fingers feather over her skin. It brought a heat to her face and she liked the feeling of his nails grazing her cheek.

It lasted longer than she should've allowed, so she began to open her eyes. But she felt so tired. Her eyelids so heavy she couldn't open them.

Her body so exhausted it couldn't open.

She lifted her hand to meet his face. To dance on his skin as his hands are. She found it was closer. It was mere breaths away from her. When she reached his skin he lay his forehead on hers.

She knew he wouldn't be doing this if her eyes were open.

And she wouldn't either, so that's ok.

There was a barrier of blackness between them so this wasn't really real.

And as if he was pushed over a cliff he suddenly kissed her. His lips fell over hers like a falling piano, and when it reached the ground it made a crashing symphony of disgusting and soft sounds. It was shocking and cliche, expected but disgusted. His warm lips on hers, like a soft feathery touch, but it still stirred her core, and his.

As soon as it crashed it was over, the fall was over. The heat stopped and she fell asleep.

A/n: I tried to avoid cheese, but I don't think I did. I'm sorry if it's super fluffy, or ooc. I tried to keep Sebastian's character while also interpreting him in my own way. Gah! I suck donkey dicks (that's a gross image I'm sorry)