Author's Note: A quick oneshot focusing on the alternative ending of Sebastian going through with taking Ciel's soul, with my own little spin put on it. It's not that I'm unhappy with the ending in season II (on the contrary, I rather like the idea of the two of them wreaking havoc together for all eternity) it's just that the ending of the first season was so ambiguous and, in some senses, so well-rounded that I wanted to experiment with it a little and I was inspired by the song that you'll see referenced at the end to do so. I kind of bummed myself out writing this, to be honest! It's a little depressing, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I hope you all enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji.

Warnings: Gore, violence, generally disturbing. Not to mention it's not exactly the happiest fic. Main character death, obviously, and mentions of animal death as well. Descriptions of a dead body. Insinuated one-sided (at least) Ciel/Sebastian sort of. It's a little too close to be just a butler/master relationship if you get my drift.

Death Throes

It was over. It was all over. The waves of relief crashed against those of loss in the thing's chest as it held the broken little doll (or what was left of it, anyway) in taloned hands. He was not quite sure when the talons had come out, nor the jagged teeth lining his gums like little shards of broken champagne glasses. He inclined his head a little towards the body in his arms, his nose resting against the clammy temple of the boy-dolly that he cradled. He could still smell pain and torment and, lying beneath the metallic scent of the boy's innards, he could smell the lingering bitter-sweet of the dark chocolate that he had so often garnished those ethereal desserts with in the past. The boy himself had made quite the delicious dessert.

He did not want to let the boy's remains go. They were warm and soft and it was far too pleasant to continue running his fingers through those strands of downy hair on the crown of the boy's head, regardless of the fact that they were gummed together with rapidly congealing blood and the glistening globules of his precious insides. The demon was oblivious to the cooling skin and the stiffness of rigor mortis settling into the body's frame.

Sebastian (and it felt so hollow to use that name now, with the one who had given it to him dripping from his hands) had wanted to do it gently, had wanted to simply send the boy to sleep, a very deep sleep from which he would never wake up. Perhaps he had grown soft in his servitude to the boy, perhaps it was simply too many late night baths and afternoon teas and parfaits. His young master, however, had been adamant that the demon was to make the process as painful as possible, and he was diligent in providing his master's final wish. The partaking of a soul could be as gentle a process as the thief wanted it to be; it could be a light brushing against the vessel's lips and then a simple tug (and this was what Sebastian had at first intended to do) or it could be something horrendous, digging through the meaty body and pulling apart strings upon strings of muscle and tendon and fat to find the wriggling little thing encased deep within (this was what Sebastian had ended up doing, essentially.)

The pitch black tip of one talon dragged across the soft palm of the boy's hand, dipping into the little crescent shapes left from the boy's nails. He was nothing now, a blank slate. He was a massless thing with no name and no story and no current aim. Usually, he would not waste time in contracting again, but for now he felt somewhat compelled to stay by the boy's side even in death, to drag this moment out and engrave it into his memory. He wanted to close the chilled hand in his own, bringing the pads of the delicate fingers to brush against his lips and his eyelashes and his hair; the features that would no longer be his when he finally found a new master. These were all transitory things, moulded to the desires and needs of his current master. He could choose to lose them as soon as he pleased, but for now he was quite happy to keep them as he kept this boy in his arms.

His pointer finger traced light circles against the fleshy palm in such a familiar pattern that he almost thought he imagined it when he heard the tinny little 'Sebastian.' He paid it no mind until he heard it again, more definite this time though still weak, like the bleating of a little lamb somewhere far from him.

"Sebastian."

Wine red eyes widened briefly, startled from his musings. His lips parted and he murmured against the boy's temple, "Young master?"

"Sebastian. Sebastian."

He straightened up a little, looking down upon the porcelain face of his previous master. It was clear that he had not moved, yet the demon was certain that he had heard the reedy little voice. He merely stared for a moment, before his suspicions were confirmed.

"Sebastian."

One hand slid around to cup the back of the boy's head without so much as cringing when he felt the large, gaping hole in the boy's skull, likely caused by the boy's thrashing against the stone floor. Perhaps he should feel relieved that the boy must have knocked himself out early in the process. He crooked one knee, using it to prop up the skinny torso, almost as though the boy was facing him. "Can you hear me, young master?" Still his voice was a low mumble, as though he was talking to himself.

"Sebastian."

Sharp, wine red eyes narrowed and then he dropped his gaze as he realised what must have happened. It seemed that, in his haste, he had... missed a bit. It appeared that a very small fragment of his lord's soul was still lodged within that mangled body somewhere, barely enough to be conscious. He knew that it was not nearly strong enough to survive on its own, that eventually it was disintegrate altogether. If he was very lucky, the residing telepathic link between them would allow the last dulling piece of the boy's soul to splutter out his name a couple more times. It must be terribly painful in there, and terribly dark, Sebastian noted with a loose twinge somewhere very deep within his cavernous chest.

"Do not fret, my lord," the demon whispered in a hollow croon, "This won't last very long at all. You'll be all gone soon."

"Sebastian."

He had once seen a squirrel that had been severed along its midsection by one of the wheels of the young master's carriage when, in a panic, it could not decide which way to run to escape the oncoming coach. In the end it had gone no way at all and, when he threw a glance over his shoulder, he had seen the poor thing lying in its own mess, twitching in its death throes. He was reminded of that precise moment, as his poor young master regurgitated the only name that had been in his mind during his final moments. His young lord was also experiencing death throes, it seemed and, while the boy was apparently incapable of expressing anything intelligent, he would take what he could get. He whispered sweet nothings to the boy as though trying to soothe him, things that no longer mattered, that could not possibly cause any harm, things that would be inaudible to anyone unless the intruder were to press their head close to the demon's.

"Not much longer, young master. All this will be one bad dream soon. Ah, but we've had some adventures, you and I. You were a very interesting little master, not that it will be terribly important to you now." The boy's mind interrupted him, spoke over to him, even as he continued to murmur to him.

"Sebastian. Sebastian. Seb...astian."

Ah. He was beginning to struggle. "That's it, my lord. Let go."

"Seb-... Seb-... I... Sebastian... you... Seb...astian."

A little smirk lined the demon's mouth. Even in death, it seemed, the Earl of Phantomhive seemed desperate to cling on to that small strand of life remaining, kicking and screaming until the very end. He almost wished he could understand what the young lord was trying to say with his last strings of consciousness.

He was almost startled when the once rosy lips parted and breathed out a final sigh of what could have been a very butchered attempt at his name and Sebastian knew that it was over as those final connections to his past master disappeared. "Good boy," he sighed against the silken strands of the boy's hair in mock affection that would never have been permitted when he was the boy's servant. He knew now that he was the only being left on the island and it seemed... well, 'lonely' was not quite the right word for it, seeing as Sebastian had never been lonely in all his long years, but perhaps lacking was a little closer. He glanced down at the boy lying across his lap, straightening the eyepatch and the fine clothing and straightening the hair, brushing offal from the torso and the bony little lap. Was it ludicrous of him to wonder if, just perhaps, it might be possible to... keep the little boy? His mind raced as he lifted the lily white hand to observe the dimly glinting blue stone upon the miniature thumb. Maybe he would be able to clean the boy up a little, to patch up those places that had been damaged in the taking of his soul.

Just because the boy was no longer consciously with him, it did not necessarily mean that they had to be separated. And, Sebastian decided, it would only be for a little while. Just until he felt like establishing a contract again.

Gingerly lifting the boy into his arms, he stood and made his way through the bloodstained old ruins, his old master's head resting gently against his shoulder. He wouldn't keep him for long. Just a little while. He just wanted a little longer to say goodbye.

:: ::

In the forest is a monster

It has done terrible things

So in the wood it's hiding

And this is the song it sings.

'Who Will Love Me Now' by PJ Harvey

:: ::

Seondary AN: Yep. A bit of a gentler Sebastian than I portrayed in Caym, maybe, but I'm hoping that I still managed to maintain that sinister edge to him. He is hoarding a dead body, after all. (Don't even ask me where I even get these ideas from ok I honestly worry about myself sometimes.) To be honest, I think that this version is actually a little more true to Kuroshitsuji than the one I write in Caym seeing as there are those brief flickers of apparent affection now and again. It's difficult to keep the balance! But I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless.