Pain. Searing pain. Red hot flashes of heat and anger. So many people in anguish.

Blaine jerked awake, dripping with sweat and shaking violently. After glancing desperately around the room in an effort to remember where he was, he gripped his head and moaned, sinking back down onto the cheap motel bed and curling into the fetal position.

Sirens sounded and dogs barked outside of his window. Someone screamed only feet away as two gun shots were fired. He slowly relaxed out of the tightly clenched ball he had huddled himself into. There was no way he would be getting anymore sleep tonight, no matter how hard he tried. The nightmares were bad. The neighborhood was worse.

He needed to get the hell out of here if he had any chance of healing and finding a new path in life. He laughed to himself with a mirthless little bark at that phrasing. It was incredibly ironic. 'Get the hell out of here...', getting out of this place that was an earthly rendition of hell. Ironic indeed. If anyone deserved hell it was him.

He stood slowly to his feet and walked to the filthy, cracked mirror above the dresser. He was shirtless and his compact body rippled with muscles as he stood there examining himself. He swallowed back his self-loathing and let his true nature show. His countenance darkened. His skin took on a shadowy hue. His eyes had the smallest glint of red. Finally, the grand finale, wings spanning six feet across arose from where they would sink and disappear into his shoulder blades, should he desire to hide them.

They were a deep, ebony black. So black, that if you stared at them too deeply, you started to become transfixed, convinced that you were about to fall heedlessly into an endless abyss.

This was him. This was who he really was, no matter how hard he tried to be someone else. He deserved to be in hell. That was where he came from after all.

He closed eyes and he let his dark countenance absorb back into his body. He glanced up at his reflection one last time before retracting his wings. For just a moment, from just the right angle, the wings looked beautiful. Without the ash-like skin and the flashing red eyes he almost looked innocent. With the light from the lamp reflecting from his hovering wings he looked... almost angelic.

A demon looking angelic. There was that irony again.

Kurt glided down the alley, his steps smooth and light as air. Everything he touched, everything he passed, seemed to blossom and heal. A sickly, starving cat stopped its limping and felt strength flow through it's body as it finally found the energy to capture that elusive mouse. A flower, drooping and dying, absorbed every ounce of water from the ground it was planted in, and raised it's head proudly as it's color returned in vibrant streaks.

He walked into the night proudly, not bothering to hide his true nature. He had the ability to do so of course, but why would he? He had nothing to hide. He was everything good. Everything pure. Everything that was right with the world. He exemplified peace and health and joy.

The golden highlights in his brown hair actually shone as if they were made of sunlight. His pale skin glowed vibrantly with youth and life. When he was happy, his flashing blue eyes spoke of a bright and beautiful sky on a summer's day. They spoke of a swirling and dangerous whirlpool in the middle of the ocean when he was angered.

He was, indeed, capable of anger, despite popular belief. When he was finally pushed over the edge though, it was a swift and righteous anger. The depths of the seas would whirl and crash in his eyes, and he would meet out harsh but fair judgment on those who deserved it. This type of emotion and reaction was rare on his part. It took quite a bit to push him to that point. This type of response and behavior was saved solely for the lowest types of humanity. The abusers. The molesters. The murderers. They all met a quick and justified end at Kurt's wrath. When it happened, it happened rapidly, and was over before you could blink an eye. His eyes would return to their picturesque, sky blue and all would be calm once again. Peace would reign in any who were near, knowing that justice had been served and that all was well with the world.

In this particular moment though, anger was the furthest thing from his mind. He was literally glowing from the overwhelming amount of peace, purity and health that was flowing from his body in misty waves. He sent out these intoxicating and fragrant waves to purposely seek anything or anybody who might need his grace tonight.

That was his job, after all. An angel's work was never done. There was always heartache and pain to be mended in this broken world. Therefore he roamed constantly. Seeking out those who desperately needed him, and helping anyone else whom he possibly could along the way.

His wide span of blindingly white wings flexed and fluttered in a graceful motion. He paused for a moment, trying to decide his next course of action.

This way. He thought. This is where the deepest pain and heartbreak lie.

He headed straight toward a run-down, seedy looking building. Healing and soothing the occupants of the dark, crime-filled streets in his wake.

Blaine was still standing in front of the mirror, tracing light hands over his skin, when he felt the presence. He trembled for a moment, cursing himself for his carelessness. If he hadn't been so distracted, he would have sensed the coming of the other being minutes ago and found an escape. Now, it was too late. He would have to face the challenge, head on... and he knew he wouldn't win.

He turned to face the doorway, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath as his true countenance took back over his body. His skin and eyes turned, his wings stretched wide and hovered in an impressive arch over his head. He opened his eyes once more and prepared to meet his natural enemy.

The door flew open and a figure encompassed in a shimmering light entered the room. They stood there, staring at each other for long moments. Evil and Good. Demon and Angel.

They were meant to hate each other. They were meant to fight to the death.

The had only to take one look at each other before they knew that this would be different. They felt drawn to each other. Like magnets. Their eyes widened and their breathing became rapid as they involuntary took slow steps toward each other, meeting in the middle.

"You're not what I expected." Kurt's melodic voice floated through the air.

Blaine watched the angel in absolute awe. The beauty that radiated from the figure in front of him was breathtaking. He was torn by his sudden onset of emotions. He was meant to long for the demise a creature like this, right? So why did he want to pull the angelic being into his arms and love him until he end of time? He could never do that though. He wasn't worthy. He would never be worthy.

"You're exactly what I expected," Blaine replied softly, eyes sparkling red. "What I didn't expect was to feel this way about you."

Kurt nodded, needing no further explanation to understand what was going on in the demon's mind. He could sense the turmoil. He could sense Blaine's natural instincts fighting with his desire to love and protect.

Kurt's compassion overwhelmed him as he sensed the other creature's pain and self-loathing. He put his hands on the demon's shoulders and pulled him close.

"Let me heal you. I can sense the upheaval inside of you. I can sense your conflicting emotions. You don't want this. You never wanted this. You want to heal, not destroy. You want to love, not hate. Let me help you to change."

Blaine stayed still in the angel's arms, barely breathing as he listened to him speak. Convinced that if he moved, this would all disappear and the healing warmth surrounding him would be gone forever. He shook his head suddenly though and pulled away.

"You can't. It's never been done. It's not meant to be," the demon spoke in a voice filled with both pain and desire. "Even if you had the ability, it would take all of your strength. It would kill you. I could never let that happen."

Kurt smiled. "You've just given me the very reason why this must be done. Whoever heard of a demon that was desperate to keep an angel alive?"

Blaine let the smallest trace of a smile grace his lips. Irony abounded on this night apparently. He looked back into the blue eyes with something akin to hope... and fear.

"How could we? How would it even be possible?"

Kurt smiled and linked their fingers together, pulling the demon close. "Lend me your strength. Let it flow from you and into me. The two of us combined would be one of the most powerful forces in the universe. How could we fail?"

Blaine tried to swallow away the sudden tightening in his chest.

"You don't want my kind of strength. It's dark, and angry, and vile."

"I can handle it. Trust me."

The blue eyes seemed to penetrate his very soul and fill him with courage and resolve. They could do this, they both wanted this. It was inexplicable. They had barely met. They were meant to be mortal enemies.

What can you say? When something is meant to be, it's meant to be.

Both angel and demon took one last look at each other before closing their eyes and leaning together. Blaine's skin darkened and swirled black. His wings jutted forward and surrounded both of them, enveloping them in the swirling black of his feathers. Electricity sparked in the air surrounding them as he summoned every bit of strength he possessed, letting it flow from his fingers into Kurt's.

For just a moment, Kurt stumbled under the sheer weight of the strength. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was heavy and sinister, with a mind to harm rather than heal... but underneath all that was wrong, was a deep and persistent desire to do something good. The natural bent of the demon's strength was to take life away, but for Blaine, it was constantly battled by an even deeper desire to heal.

The torment that the angel had sensed from the other being now made perfect sense. He could use this. This would work.

The angel steadied himself and absorbed every ounce of strength that Blaine sent his way. Within the massive vortex of hatred and destruction, he found the small seed of love and hope. He clung to it, before sending his own strength and power into the mix.

Both beings shuddered as their powers waged a silent war. Sharp streaks of pain shot through both of them as emotions and desires that were completely foreign to them flowed through their bodies. They were both battling desperately on the inside as their bodies trembled and shook from without.

Blaine tensed, and made to pull away, when he felt the healing fingers of Kurt's power start to take him over. The angel clung to him tightly though, refusing to let him go.

"Let go. Let me heal you," Kurt whispered.

The demon tensed one final time before sagging forward into the angel, letting him take over completely. Kurt's flashing, bright wings spread out, wide and strong, before encompassing them both in a sparkling sea of white.

For long minutes, they stayed that way. Huddled, trembling and clinging to each other desperately as they battled to overcome the pain and hatred that had threatened to overtake the demon's soul.

Suddenly, Blaine let out a sharp cry of pain. He would have dropped to the floor had it not been for Kurt holding him, strong and steady. He could feel vast changes overtaking his entire body. The fire in his eyes burned brightly one last time and then went out forever as a comforting coolness flowed through him. The outer layer of his skin itched and then burned, red-hot, before falling away in flaky, ash-like pieces around them.

He sighed as a peace and contentment flowed through his body that was alien to him, yet so welcome. Pleasure seemed to attack every nerve ending. He suddenly realized that tears were streaming down his face. He was in shock. This was what happiness felt like. He had never known. Never known it could be like this. His eyes, void of their fire, were now the deepest black. But not a black that wanted to swallow you whole and terrorize you, a black that enveloped you and covered you like a warm blanket.

Blue eyes met black. Both swirling with satisfaction and tranquility.

White and black feathers mingled together, touching gently with light flutters.

"You did it." Blaine breathed out. Crying unashamedly. It was miraculous. The pain, the fear, the anger... it was all gone. He was new. He was whole.

"We did it," Kurt corrected him. He was panting heavily and finally sagged forward onto Blaine. "I'm afraid that I used too much of my strength though. I have nothing left right now."

Blaine swept the angel into his arms.

"I have enough strength for both of us. It is my turn to care for you."

Kurt looked at him with a full heart. He hadn't even known that he'd wanted or desired this. Now that he had it, it seemed as if his life had not been complete until this moment.

He rested his head on Blaine's shoulder and drifted off into a deep sleep as he was carried out into the night.

They'd found each other. They'd shared their strength and healed the demon's torment. Now they were leaving together. No longer enemies, but allies. Lovers. Soul-mates.

Two angels. One old and shimmering white. One new and sparkling like the night sky. Yin and Yang. They completed each other.

As the years went by, they walked the world over, time and again. Healing humanity and spreading peace and joy wherever they went.

On occasion, they would take a stroll over the rolling waves in the ocean or straight into the blinding beauty of the sun, reveling in the power and intimacy of their connection.

Blaine would hold onto Kurt's hand and lightly sing a melody that they had once heard while roaming the earth.

Before you met me

I was alright

But things were kinda heavy

You brought me to life

The blue eyes would flash and sparkle as Kurt would turn to him and sing back.

My heart stops

When you look at me

Just one touch

Now baby I believe

This is real

Don't ever look back

They would laugh then, linking their fingers and rubbing their wings together lovingly. So many of the things that humans clung to on this earth seemed frivolous to them. The way they would attempt to communicate and express their feelings was so primitive. Music, however, that language was universal. It was one thing that they had learned to appreciate and admire about humans. Their creativity in this area was almost astounding.

The two angels had heard this song once, long ago, and it had stuck with them. It fit them, as if it had been written for them.

The dark winged angel gripped his mate's hand tightly and sang out as they, quite literally, walked into the sunset.

I finally found you

My missing puzzle piece

I'm complete