Arthur didn't know exactly what happened afterward. All he saw was startling blue, and then blackness swept over him. He was stranded there, in the confines of his mind. He didn't know what would happen, what was happening. All he knew was that he was in a shit load of trouble.

He was content to float in the endless, shifting memories and colors of his mind for a while. But then he was plagued with the visions, the nightmares. All he could remember was the way claws sliced through his skin like butter, the brute force of a fist breaking his bones. He whimpered softly as he remembered that horrible, downright evil laugh taunting him. He hated it, the feeling of utter helplessness, of not being able to do anything to defend himself.

Arthur Kirkland would never be the man he used to be.

Alfred had caught the man when he limply fell towards the ground like a lifeless rag doll. He looked as if he had been dragged to Hell and back. Alfred chuckled at the irony. He wouldn't let this pretty dove leave him. Through the blood, cuts, and bruises, Alfred had seen something he liked, something he wanted to keep. And no one denied Alfred Jones anything. He was a possessive bastard, and he knew it. When he wanted for something he went out and took it, no matter the price.

He cradled that delicate feeling body in his arms, whispering words in an ancient language under his breath. A dark, circular portal opened up, and a glimpse of that dank and familiar Hell could be seen. He stepped through, leaving the gruesome house full of the dead behind.

He immediately started the process of tending to the still unconscious blonde man. He was really torn up, and it got even worse as the demon stripped the remnants of clothing away. Gashes leaking blood were all over the place, bones out of their proper places were twisted and mangled, and bruises stained the battered body like a fungus. It would be a difficult task, and arduous one, but Alfred could do it. The demon cast another spell, one that would make the blond sleep for a very long time. Alfred couldn't have him waking up screaming and ruining all his hard work, right?

He started with the bones, since they were most painful. Tan, calloused fingers slowly ran down each misaligned bone, and set them with little effort. Once that was done, he began the process of healing. Healing another was no easy task, especially with this extent of injury. To get it right, one had to pour their very essence into the body, and concentration was key.

Alfred did just that, slowly but sure working from top to bottom. His brow was furrowed with focus, and he let loose an audible sigh of relief. "Almost there, my angel. You're really putting me to work on the first day." He smiled to himself and kept going.

Hours later, but thoroughly satisfied with his work, Alfred stood back and admired the newly fixed body. It was perfect now, all creamy skin and bright, shiny hair. He was now nestled in a large basket of sorts, furs piled on top of his body to ease the shivering. He had a fire roaring in the fireplace, adding even more warmth. All he had to do now was wait for his little doll to awaken.

As he was coming to, Arthur felt warm and content. That was odd, since the last time he felt something it was pain and fear. Slowly, emerald eyes cracked open. Right now, all he saw was stone. There were stalagmites on the ceiling, and he thought that odd. Where was he? He looked down to see furs piled on top of him, and himself laying in some sort of… basket bed. Arthur shoved off the blankets and sat up, gasping as his unblemished skin caught the light. He was healed? How was this possible?

An amused chuckle broke his train of thought, and Arthur whipped around to stare with wide eyes at the sudden noise, his aching body protesting vehemently. Who was that? Oh yes, the one who had appeared back at the house.

"Where am I? And how did this," he gestured to his body, "Happen?" At that moment he realized he was laying there nude, exposed to the other, and yanked the furs back up, face flushed a violent red.

Alfred had allowed his eyes to peruse the man's body as he worked, and it was clear he liked what he saw. "Oh, relax. Nothing I haven't seen before." He shot the man a winning grin and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "But I would love to see more of it," he said with a cheeky wink.

Arthur gaped at the man, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What the hell is wrong with you!? I was just beaten, nearly killed, and you have the gall to try and flirt with me?" he nearly shouted, cheeks red with anger this time. Yes, he realized this man could beat him bloody again, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care.

Alfred didn't react, and just arched a dark brow. Within milliseconds he was straddling the man's hips, hands resting on either side of his head. His wings rose and curled inward, wrapping the two in a dark cocoon. "Do you realize what I am, little mortal? I could kill you with a twitch of my finger. It's not wise to anger those stronger than you." He bared his fangs in a warning, sharp, spaded tail gently, but also threateningly, caressing the porcelain cheek.

"Now, let's hear a name. I'm Alfred F. Jones, demon of Hell. Nice to meet you." He easily climbed off the other and nestled himself beside the slender body. He held a tanned hand out, a sunny smile on his face.

Arthur couldn't fight the shivers that were wracking his body. Feeling the darkness surrounding him, seeing the fangs, made him remember what had happened earlier. And he didn't like it one bit. Reluctantly he shook the proffered hand. "Arthur Kirkland, author and teacher. Well, I was, until I was beaten to a pulp and taken to God knows where." His lips twisted in a frown and he couldn't help but look around. "Where am I, anyway?"

"Hell," Alfred answered. "I did tell you where we'd be going, right before you passed out on me. You'll be here for quite a while, since one, you have to regain your health, and two, I'm not going to allow you to leave."

The green-eyed blonde begrudgingly nodded. "I do vaguely remember something. How long is a while? I have… matters to attend to at home, and work. I'm not one-!" The sentence was cut off by a strangled gasp of shock.

"Excuse me!? You can't keep me here like some sort of pet!" He shrieked in displeasure and shock. "I'm not some sort of pet you can lock up! I have a life!"

Alfred just smirked and wrapped his arms about the smaller male. "Oh, I beg to differ. You're belong to me now, my little angel. And I'll keep you here until I feel up to letting you go." The demon shook his head and corrected him. "The proper term is 'had'. You had a life. But now your only life is with me, wrapped in the arms of Lucifer." Alfred chuckled darkly and cupped Arthur's cheeks, looking into the fear stricken eyes. He whispered the next words, nearly singing them.

"Forever mine you will be, forever mine you will stay."