Author's Note: *crawls out of trash can like the garbage she is* Hey guys! Did you miss me?

Like it said in the summary, there are yaoi UNDERTONES, nothing explicit. It's sort of like the general feeling of Black Butler, particularly the corset scene. I'm sorry, I just have a really hard time writing stuff that's not slash.

Okay, that's a lie- I'm not actually sorry.

EVERYTHING UP TO THIS POINT HAS BEEN EDITED IN SUCH EXTREME WAYS THAT IT MIGHT BE BEST TO REREAD ALL THE PAST CHAPTERS PLEASE THANK YOU.

Chapter Seven: It Gets Hella Gay (But No Homo Tho) P.S. Also Angst


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Ciel Phantomhive is valuable in every way imaginable.

Young.

Wealthy.

Noble.

Beautiful, as he is reminded of constantly by the men, whose hands like to wander and find and touch.

He is the perfect sacrifice, the final part to the ritual, and he knows it. He's just a boy of ten, but he knows why he had been chosen. This cult had chosen him, had likely been the ones to light his house aflame, and they will use him to summon a devil.

And Phantomhives are not the kind of people to go along quietly.

Straining against the arms pinning him down, he screams hysterically, the sound blood-curdling and painful.

"Somebody," he chokes, desperate tears streaming unbidden down his face. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

The figures, cloaked all in white and laughing, laughing and grinning in a way that Ciel had long since learned to fear, make way for a red-hot iron. It sears into his skin, and once again, Ciel screams.

It is him in the end, that calls the demon.

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"Jesus Christ!" Dean shouts, stumbling back a few steps in shock. The hunters watch the disturbing scene, spellbound, curses spilling from their lips.

"What the Hell?" Sam contributes helpfully, as smoke billowed from the center of the mysterious torturers.

Only the angel notices the butler, smirking like something is amusing.

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Ciel awoke on a cold floor to the sound of screams of joy, his stomach lurching and feeling like it might begin to eat itself.

Something had happened.

The demon had come. It's cloaked entirely in feathery black, like a shadow with burning red eyes and stiletto heeled boots.

"I-It really came," a man whispers in horror, before finding his voice and stepping forward. "Demon!" His voice rings too-loudly throughout the now silent room. "Grant me eternal life and wealth!"

The supposed demon sneers.

"I take no orders from the likes of you," he turns to face Ciel, who instinctively shoots forward against the bars of his cage at the thought of a savior, even an unholy one. "You've made a big sacrifice, little one," it purrs, words spilling like tantalizing poison from its jagged teeth. "Your wish?"

It stalks towards the cage like a panther stalking its prey, the crowd parting fluidly to make room for its presence. To anyone else, the air is suffocating and dense. To Ciel? It feels like he can finally breathe.

"I-I want power. Stronger than anyone else's! I want revenge on those who humiliated me! I want to break them like they've broken me! Demon, I'll make a contract with you!"

Sam couldn't believe his ears. Couldn't believe his eyes.

"What are you doing, kid? Don't!"

Castiel feels a sharp pang of pity for the boy, but shoves it to the side. Child or not, he's still a demon, and demons must be exorcised and killed.

It's the way of things, and who is he to question?

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"Those who abandon the path of light for the darkness are damned to a fate far worse than death. You are aware of this?"

Ciel grits his teeth at the insinuation that anything is worse than this hell. "Yes," he bites out.

The creature grins wickedly, like a cat in the cream.

"Let us mark our bodies with the contract seal. The more visible the mark, the stronger the bond between predator and prey." A black talon reaches out to stroke Ciel's cheek, and the child represses a shiver. "I want to mark up this beautiful blue eye of yours, little one, filled with despair."

Burning.

Burning.

Burning.

Ciel tilts his head back and screams. The sound hurts to hear, shrill and raw. After what seems like hours, the scream tapers into nothingness and he croaks, with his eye shining purple:

"Kill them."

The creature smirks, and its form melts into a tall man in a suit, with the face of Ciel's father and hair as black as night, red eyes glowing into the darkness.

It stoops easily into a kneeling position, a gloved hand held against the spot where Ciel supposes the thing's heart would be, had it any.

"Yes, my lord."

It sets the world aflame (for a moment Ciel is back there, watching his parents' dying embrace, skin melting together in the heat of the fire), and carries Ciel to safety the way Ciel knows instinctively it always will.

"Have you got a name?" The boy asks, almost impatiently, pressed tight against the creature's muscular chest.

"I am as you call me."

Ciel squirms thoughtfully in the arms of his demon. His demon. The thought is liberating; freeing and terrifying all at once. All that power clenched in his small fist to use at will, answering to his beck and call like a well-trained pet.

"Sebastian. Your name is Sebastian, now."

The newly-named Sebastian turns his head down to face his master.

"May I ask why?"

The child smiles, then, crooked and broken.

"I had a dog named Sebastian, once."

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After a long silence with only crackles of the fire in the background, Sam finally speaks up. "...So, you call him young master because you formed a contract with him? Wait, I didn't know you can make deals with other demons."

The dark man shakes his head. "Yes, I am bound to him and no, demons cannot form deals with other demons. We can form alliances, but we aren't allowed command over one another. Right now, my master is completely human."

"Then how'd he become a demon? It doesn't make sense," The youngest Winchester laments, always asking after answers.

"Patience," Sebastian preaches. "His story is not over yet, as you will soon find out."

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Ciel stares in solemn silence at the blue-gemmed ring, coated in soot and grime. It smells like burnt flesh, and the thought alone (Mother, Father, burning burning burning) is enough to make him retch, dry-heaving into the dirt.

There is, after all, nothing left for him to throw up. Starving tends to do that to you.

He rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

"I'll need clothes." He says bluntly, to no one in particular. He's wearing a shirt that only just comes to his knees and is torn in more than a few unsavory places. "Clothes befitting an earl. And shelter- there should be an inn just north of here-"

"Unnecessary." The butler interjects calmly. Ciel raises an eyebrow.

"Unnecessary?" He echoes disbelievingly. Sebastian gives a little smirk of pride.

"Of course, my lord. Surely you didn't think I could just stand idle while you despaired over the cleanliness of a piece of jewelry-"

"Bite your tongue!" The boy barks sharply, privately thinking that the words of a devil shouldn't hold so much weight. That they shouldn't cut so deeply.

Said demon just leans back in amused silence, like a cat sitting back on its haunches, pleased to have gotten a rise out of the child.

Ciel scoffs in irritation, both at the creature itself and his own foolishness.

"Tell me, Sebastian," he begins, voice cold and detached. "Have you ever lost anything important to you?"

The butler stiffens imperceptibly, but quickly regains composure.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to, young master."

The child sighs. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." He stands on shaking legs, knees scuffed and dirtied. "I suppose you wouldn't."

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Sam runs a hand through his hair. "That seems like an awful lotta trauma for one kid."

"At least that was the worst of it," Bobby points out gruffly.

"Do kindly shut up," Sebastian interjects sharply, scarlet eyes blazing with an emotion the hunters can't name. It isn't a request.

Almost bashfully, the demon's gaze lowers to the boy laying in his lap.

"My lord is..." A bony hand brushes the slate fringe from his master's forehead in something like affection. "Resilient. Stubbornly so. To call this the worst of his trials is to insult his mortal life."

The butler's fake smile is unnerving.

"And to insult my master, Mr. Singer, is to insult me."

But then Ciel releases a particularly pathetic mewl and Sebastian's attention is again returned to the demon-child, fretfully wiping sweat from the boy's face and trying to keep him comfortable.

Dean snorts quietly to himself.

Kid may have been through some rough times, but he's literally been to Hell and back. Ciel Phantomhive needs to learn that he isn't the only one with dead parents and a shitty past.

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