'I don't want your soul,' Chernabog said simply, 'did you forget? Your soul isn't as valuable to me. The thing I want is your memories and emotions. They are far more useful to me.'

Your blood ran cold. 'My memories and emotions?'

'Yes. Any that relate to Mr Nichols shall be traded. Does that sound like a fair deal?'

Your immediate reaction was 'No, it's not a fair deal.' You didn't want to return home and not remember EJ or what your feelings were towards him. At least if your soul was taken, you wouldn't feel anything at all, but taking away your memories and emotions...it scared you. You hadn't been prepared for this. But could you really turn back now? Even after seeing Rana be killed right before your eyes by him, you had remained determined to give EJ his life back.

You had to push your own feelings aside on the matter. It wasn't about what was best for you; it never had been. Even so, you opened your mouth and asked: 'Does it have to be both of them? Could you only take one and not the—'

'No compromises can be made on this, you insolent fool! You either take my offer, or you leave and never show me your face again unless you want to be burnt to a crisp.'

You shrunk back. 'O-Okay. Sorry. I was just thinking....sorry'

'I will give you time to think this through. Choose wisely, because unless I am feeling kind, you will be left with no emotional or mental recollection of Mr Nichols. There will be no déjà vu. There will only be emptiness.'

He had already made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't change any parts of the deal, so you had no choice but to accept, less your journey into his realm leave you fruitless.

'Fine,' you mumbled, 'I agree. Take them.'

Chernabog chuckled darkly and said: 'My, my, that was fast. I underestimated you. Very well. You will return to your world with little recollection of your dear friend. Things will be different, granted, but you will continue with your life as though the two of you had never met.'

'Hey, did you see about that guy who went missing a couple of years ago?' you asked, glancing down at your phone screen.

Socks' voice crackled through the speakers. 'No? What happened?'

'He suddenly appeared outside the police station. Had no idea where he'd been or what had happened since he disappeared. I think the article said he's living with his best friend or something.'

'Damn, that must suck. My memory's bad, but at least I don't have a few straight years missing.'

'Same. I've met up with the best friend a couple of times, actually. I'll have to ask him about it. I've told you about him before—Greg?'

'Oh, yeah! I remember you saying. Listen, you have to call him and see what's up. Then you tell me everything, got it?'

'Alright, alright,' you said in a sing-song voice, giggling slightly. 'I'll call him now, okay?'

'Yes! Go for it! See you later.'

'See ya.' You hung up on them, scrolling through your contacts and pressing the 'call' button under Greg's name. Waiting patiently for him to pick up, you were glad to hear his voice.

'(Y/N), what's up?'

'Hi, Greg! I just wanted to see how you were doing. I saw that your old friend is staying with you, and I just wanted to ask if I could do anything to help?'

He paused for a moment. 'Let me just ask him and see what he thinks. I'll be back in a moment, okay?'

'Sure! Take your time.'

On the other end of the phone, Greg turned to EJ (or Jack, as he should really be called at this point), who was staring into space with a crestfallen look on his face. Thanks to Greg putting it on speakerphone, Jack had heard it all: how he had been referred to as Greg's 'old friend' and not by name, and how you were only concerned about him because you were Greg's friend—as if you didn't know him anymore. He couldn't help it, but a tiny spark of hatred towards his best friend ignited in his chest.

Calm down, he thought, this isn't Greg's fault. He's willingly taken you in; turning on him is a terrible idea.

'You good, dude?'

Jack started, glancing up at him. 'I-I guess so.'

In his overemotional stupor, he had stupidly told Greg everything that morning. He had told him how much he loved you, and that you had admitted to having feelings in return in your letter. Greg (ever the patient one when it came to his best friend) had sat there and listened to his rambling, never interrupting or asking questions, and only speaking when it felt appropriate. Of course, Jack had kept the details to himself. He didn't want his best friend to think of him as strange. (Speaking of details, he really had to see if his shrine was still there.)

'Do you wanna see them later on or—'

'Of course I want to see them!' Jack snapped, then he hastily added, 'ah, shit, sorry, man, I didn't mean to say it like that.'

'It's fine, don't worry about it. Want me to tell them?'

Jack nodded. 'Please. Can you, uh, also ask if they remember me?'

'Sure.' Greg unmuted and asked, 'You still there?'

'Yep, I'm still here.'

'Cool. Would it be alright if you came round in a bit? Gabby's parents want me over for dinner, and I don't want to leave Jack on his own.'

'Of course! What time should I come round?'

'Is four okay?'

'Four is good. Am I alright to bring my laptop? The client that hired us is way more demanding then we originally thought and wants all the work done by midnight, and I need to get everything finalised.'

'Yeah, that's fine. You're cool with it, right, dude?'

'I'm cool with it.' I am so not cool with any of this. Please, just say this is a joke and remember me.

'Awesome. See you later!'

'Wait! Before you go, can I ask you something?' Greg said.

'Yeah?'

'Do you remember Jack? At all?'

A pause. 'Sorry, I don't. Should I?'

'Never mind; don't worry about it. See you at four.' The call ended, and Jack flopped forwards, burying his head under the sofa cushions with an irritated groan.

Everything had been so confusing that he hadn't thought of the possibility of you losing your memories of him. The last time he saw you, you were practically comatose after Ophelia completed the ritual to send you into Chernabog's realm. While he had been holding your hand, taking in every feature of you sleeping face, the world around him had changed, and he found himself no longer by your side, but stood in front of a police station, with no mask, no tar leaking from his eye sockets, and a head full of memories that he had had four years ago.

'This sucks,' he said, 'I want things to go back to normal.'

'Normal as in how?'

'Normal as in (Y/N) remembering who I am. I just want to be able to walk into their house and hang out with them like I used to be able to.' He moved the cushion and stared at the wall. 'I forgot how many emotions people have. Can I get rid of them?'

Greg held out a controller for his friend to take. 'Unfortunately, no, emotions are here to stay. C'mon, let's play a game for a while to keep you occupied.'

Begrudgingly, Jack sat up and took the controller, hugging the pillow he had hidden under as a replacement for you. Forcing emotion into his voice and onto his face, he helped Greg get through the first quarter of the game by three thirty, the ache in his chest never fully disappearing.

When Greg noticed the time, he swore and hurried off to get showered and dressed in clothes that were more appropriate for dinner, leaving Jack to find a new way to occupy his thoughts. He couldn't play a multiplayer game by himself—half the screen wouldn't move and he would be dead before the next boss. He resigned himself to closing his eyes, hoping to sleep through your arrival that was imminently approaching. It wasn't as though he didn't want to see you, because that wasn't true; he wanted nothing more then to see your face, grinning at him with a playful kindness he had never seen in the eyes and smile of anyone else when they looked at him.

He would have to make you fall in love with him all over again. He wasn't exactly looking forward to it, but it couldn't be helped. He couldn't have you going out with anyone else, now, could he? It would be unfair. The advantage of being stronger then the average human had been stripped away from him, and he had to do things normal people did, like eating actual food. It was tiring.

Maybe sleeping was the best thing to do. Maybe he would wake up and it would all be a dream created by his own mind to torture him and take advantage of his fears.

This is real, chided a nasty voice in his ear, you know that. You're far more aware of what is reality and what isn't, aren't you? You have to try and work things out from here now that they aren't bound by their promise to help. Did they even truly love you? Or did they love the idea of you? Dating a monster like you must have had its perks, surely. Now you're normal, though...will their feelings be as easily swayed as before?

'Shut up,' he hissed, nails digging into his palm. It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair. Was the universe trying to make him as miserable as humanely possible without driving him to his death? His standards wouldn't let him be with you while he was a Proxy, and now he couldn't be with you yet again. Even worse, he had to watch what he said to avoid looking like a complete and utter creep.

Can this life get any worse?

leaving him as a demonic entity, while appealing to my monsterfucker brain, wasn't logically the best idea, hence ej is now a boring af human /lh