1- Out of the Night
Harry cracked an eye open to find William T. Spears, Management Grim Reaper and worst stick in the mud he'd ever met, had returned from whatever he'd been doing.
"I got bored without your sunny aura," Harry said with a yawn. He stretched in his chair and pointedly did not move his feet at all. He'd been stuck with the universe's dullest desk jockey of the dead for almost a year and he was already fed up enough to be petty.
William sighed and simply turned to sit in his own chair at the desk, apparently willing to try and work around Harry's feet without further confrontation. God, he was boring.
"So, what bureaucratic nonsense in the cycle of death are you working on today?" Harry asked dully. Signing off on completed lifeline reviewals, soul retrievals, and reaper reports. Those were the only things any of the Grim Reapers in the Management Division did- which was probably why they'd been designated his babysitters the moment he showed up. The Master of Death couldn't get into any trouble with the pencil-pushers after all.
There was silence for a minute- William didn't like talking while he worked- but eventually he answered.
"There have been deaths occurring before their designated times in the List," he admitted. "I have been tasked with comparing their new times and the locations to find any possible pattern."
"Oh?" Harry perked up. That wasn't something he'd heard of before. As far as he'd ever known, everyone died when they died and there was nothing anyone could do to change that. Except now something was changing it, something was messing with fate. Interesting.
"What could be causing it?" Harry asked, sitting up and finally moving his feet off the desk. William glanced up at him and adjusted his glasses, unimpressed. But Harry waited, and eventually William sighed again and answered.
"There could be any number of causes," he said, tone gaining the first strains of annoyance. "Someone could be slacking off on the job, humans could have found some artifact allowing them to alter individual destinies, or some interloper is out there making trouble."
So… Grim Reapers, something magic, or…what would an 'interloper' be?
Harry sat up and pulled his chair closer to William's with a grin. The Reaper ignored him and focused on the folder of papers he had open before him. Harry glanced at it briefly, a few pictures and dense text with notes and red scratches, then went back to watching William.
He had to hand it to the Reaper, William had an incredible amount of patience to be able to put up with Harry over the past year. But that had been when Harry was simply bored and didn't have anything to do. Now, with something potentially interesting happening, the stoic Reaper had to deal with a Harry who was actively trying to annoy him.
He never stood a chance. Two days later, they were in the world of the living.
"I can't believe I am being forced to do extra work, outside my division, solely for the sake of your childish whimsy," William muttered to himself as he walked.
Harry watched him, eyebrows rising higher with every grouse and gripe the Reaper made. He had finally annoyed William to the point of actually complaining about it, and all it took was getting them both "assigned" to a little on-site investigating. Not that Harry was under any illusion that was what they were actually doing.
No, another Reaper already in the area was actually investigating. William, and by proxy Harry, were going to briefly observe and offer assistance if necessary. It was very unlikely it would be necessary, the Grim Reaper Management Division were simply trying to appease Harry and get him out of everyone's hair for a few hours. They were just going to meet-up with the investigating Reaper while he was collecting a designated soul, and then they were going to head back.
A short, pretend assignment to make Harry feel like he was doing something so he'd shut up and leave everyone alone. Except for William of course, who, as the main assigned babysitter, got the dubious duty of going with Harry on his outing, and who was clearly angry at all the extra work he was having to do because of it.
"It is not as though you have any business distracting the office and taking up space on my desk," William continued. "But if the higher-ups were going to allow you to wander outside, they should simply have sent you to the Retrieval Division in the first place, made you their headache."
Harry wasn't sure if he was insulted or impressed. William had been complaining for the better part of an hour now, and entirely about him. He had the feeling the Reaper was finally voicing a whole litany of grievances collected since Harry had first been dumped in his lap. Who knew dragging the Reaper away from his desk would be the final straw?
"It's not like we're even doing anything much," Harry said when the Reaper paused for breath.
William shot him a very nasty look. It seemed simply having to leave the Grim Reaper Headquarters was too much work. Harry sighed.
"Well, maybe when we get back you can ask to have me transferred to someone else?"
William hummed under his breath and turned forward. That seemed to be an appealing thought because he didn't make any more complaints after that. Harry wondered why it hadn't occurred to him as an option before. Although, the Management Division was pretty understaffed from what he'd seen, and the other Divisions involved a lot more running around which no one seemed to want him to do.
He was about to tease William about the chances of him actually being passed off to someone else when a shrill scream tore through the air. Both of them froze. Harry knew they were heading toward where the investigating Reaper was supposed to be, which meant they were heading toward some poor soul's scheduled death. He hadn't actually considered it would be a murder though.
"Wait here," William said shortly. Then he leaped up to the rooftops and disappeared.
Harry stared up at the shadows of the roof where he'd vanished then looked down at the street. He hadn't actually bothered looking around when they arrived in the living world, too distracted by William's rather impressive tirade, but now he found himself curious.
It looked like a slum, and possibly a medieval one. Except, no, the brick buildings and shingles looked more industrial, and the street lamps looked like gas lamps so...1800s? 1900s? When were gas lamps commonplace again? Couldn't have been the 1700s, and Harry knew for sure that electricity took over around 1940...30? Was that right? But the street was cobblestone, with pavers on the sides…when were those replaced with concrete? Or was it the other way around….
Shoot. It was difficult to keep track of societal advances when they happened differently in different worlds. Guessing centuries was often the best he could do, and some worlds were so radically different that even such a vague estimate wasn't a perfect method. So he was somewhere in London in the nineteenth century. Probably.
Harry shrugged and kept walking. It didn't really matter in the end. He'd been everywhere and when at some point, and if he hadn't, he would eventually.
He only had to walk a block or so before he reached an alley, and this was where he was fairly certain they were supposed to meet the investigating Reaper. Why? Well, because there was a Grim Reaper in the alley, and he'd just stabbed someone with a chainsaw.
Harry stared, for once in a long time rather shocked. He watched a woman in red fall in a fountain of blood. He watched the Reaper derisively yank a red coat off her and turn to walk toward him. He watched the Cinematic Reel of the woman spill out of her and fly through the air.
The Reaper, with long red hair and now wearing the woman's coat, only walked a few steps toward the entrance of the alley before seeing him, and stopping. Harry barely saw him, eyes fixed feverishly on the dying woman.
The only thing going through his head was that the woman dying was not supposed to. The Reaper had killed someone not on the List.
"Oh my, oh my," the red haired Reaper cooed. "Is this a lost little lamb wandering into a slaughterhouse?" He winked at Harry coyly behind red flat topped reading glasses. "Better run boy, or the monsters might get ya!"
Harry glared at him. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled.
The Reaper jerked back in shock. He didn't have a chance to retort though, before Harry shoved past him and ran towards the woman. Closer up, he realized there was a boy and a man standing in the alley as well, still mesmerized by the Cinematic Reel. Great, this was going to be a headache indeed for the Grim Reaper Divisions. They'd probably take it as proof that Harry was nothing but trouble and shouldn't be allowed outside ever again.
He'd deal with that later though.
The second he was close enough, Harry reached up and grabbed the Cinematic Reel as it whirled by and yanked hard. The whole thing froze and started to glow, brighter and brighter, still trying to show the life it recorded. Harry didn't let it. He yanked again and kneeled down by the woman and shoved the fistful of blinding, burning Records into her chest.
Everything happened at once. The boy and the man in the alley both shouted and flinched back, the red haired Reaper shouted and ran toward him demanding he stop, William dropped into the alley from above and tried to grab him and drag him away from the woman, and the woman…. She screamed.
The Cinematic Reel burned brighter than a star and spun back into her, almost too fast to see the glowing heart of her soul being pulled along with it, back into the woman's torn up body, and she screamed and screamed and screamed.
Harry held on through it all, pressing his hands to her chest, sticky and warm with blood, trying to keep her Reel, her soul, and then her blood from rushing back out. When it felt like the soul at least had resettled, Harry started murmuring what healing spells he could remember and hoped it would be enough for the mess that was her chest. Her flesh stitched back together, but her clothes were still tattered, and her blood still stained everything around her, including him now.
At some point, he realized the woman had stopped screaming because she had passed out, but she was alive and would stay that way until her proper time. Everyone else in the alley had likewise fallen silent, though that seemed to be either from horror or shock. The boy and man would have to have their memories altered- or not, Harry didn't actually know how Reapers dealt with mortal notice.
Speaking of Reapers though… Harry turned around to find both of them just staring at him. William seemed to be getting a headache, judging by his frown, and the redhead appeared to be in a state of absolute shock, though he looked like he might start screaming at any moment.
"How did y-" the boy started to say when-
"WHAT THE HELL ROOKIE!?" Yep. The redhead finally exploded.
Harry sighed tiredly, then, after making sure the woman really was healed enough to survive without his help, stood up and calmly faced the two angry Reapers.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked again, stepping forward into the redhead's space and glaring for all he was worth. "That woman," he pointed behind him, "is not on the List tonight. What the fuck did you think you were doing?"
The redhead sputtered at him in confusion. William sighed and started rubbing his eyes under his glasses. The redhead turned to him quickly.
"Will! Help me out here!"
Harry frowned and crossed his arms, waiting to see what William-by-the-book-no-fun-ever would do. Surprisingly, he turned to his fellow Reaper and joined Harry in questioning him.
"You know you aren't supposed to collect souls not on the List," William said gravely.
"Hey!" the redhead sputtered and started waving his arms around frantically. "What about bringing the dead back to life? Huh? No one gets a second chance!"
"No one's supposed to have their chance stolen by a neutral judge either," Harry said flatly.
The redhead turned to him, face turning as red as his hair. "You! Y-y-you rookie! Don't try and tell me the rules! I'm a fully fledged Retrieval Officer!" He crossed his arms and leaned forward into Harry, clearly trying to intimidate him. "Don't act all high and mighty just because you got assigned as Will's partner while I was on assignment!"
As the Reaper's shrill words echoed through the alley, Harry and everyone else were struck dumb. Silence stretched awkwardly as everyone stared at the fuming Reaper.
"Partner?" Harry finally repeated blankly. William sighed so tiredly it would have made Harry feel guilty, but he was pretty sure the sigh was more for the other Reaper than him. Probably.
"Are all Grim Reapers this incompetent?" a snide voice called out suddenly.
Harry glanced behind him to see the boy kneeling beside the woman, glaring at him and the Reapers like he wanted them to catch on fire. The man was standing beside him, and only now did Harry see he looked like he'd been sliced up with the redhead's chainsaw as well. He was also incredibly handsome, and staring at Harry with a scary amount of focus.
"I don't know," Harry said slowly. He turned back to William and the redhead. "Are you?"
"Y-you!" The redhead Reaper sputtered and brought his chainsaw up to wave in Harry's face. "You're the only incompetent one here!"
"Am I?" Harry drawled. He had a feeling he knew what the redhead was thinking now, and it was hilarious. William looked like his headache was growing.
The redhead Reaper shrieked and swung his chainsaw. Before it could slice into Harry though, William brought his own weapon, an extending hedge clipper, up to block it. It may have been a toss up which- the hedge clippers or the chainsaw- was a more ridiculous form for a Death Scythe, but in terms of sharpness and indestructibility, they were evenly matched.
A shower of burning sparks flew up from the blades meeting, but Harry wasn't cut in half. Not that he had expected to be.
"Will!" the redhead whined and then was knocked off his feet when William used his moment of inattention to sweep backwards with his clipper staff. Harry couldn't help but whistle at how far he flew.
William adjusted his glasses and stepped up beside Harry. He seemed to be glaring at the boy and the man. Harry turned to look at them, not sure what he expected. If he didn't know better, he'd think William was being protective.
"I shall have to apologize on behalf of my colleague," William said stiffly. "It would seem he has been responsible for a great deal of trouble recently."
"Trouble recently?" Harry repeated incredulously. "Is that a joke?"
William glared at him from the corner of his eye. The handsome man snorted and brought a hand up to his chin with a smirk.
"Well, well, who knew any of your number would be capable of admitting their faults." The man shook his head with a laugh. "But an apology will not be enough to clear this matter up."
"Certainly not," the boy beside him said. "As the instigators of the Jack the Ripper murders, it is my duty to see you brought to justice."
Harry blinked. "Jack the Ripper?" Well,that was a new one. Or rather it wasn't, but it was the first time he knew of where the killer wasn't human. He turned to the redheaded Reaper picking himself off the ground and leaning against a brick wall. "You're Jack the Ripper? Seriously?"
The redhead shouted and threw his chainsaw at him. William caught it and turned back to glare at his fellow Reaper.
"Grell," he said coldly. The redhead, Grell, swooned and started dancing around giggling about William's icy glares burning him up inside. William threw the chainsaw into his head.
Grell shrieked as he fell, but was up again almost immediately, shaking his chainsaw wildly. "What was that for, Will!? Are you really taking this rookie's side over mine?"
"He is not a Reaper," William said as he adjusted his glasses again.
"Huh?" Grell stared at him in confusion. Harry sympathized. Only a few Reapers actually recognized him on sight, most had to be told who he was. He figured it was probably because of how similar he looked to Reapers- green eyes and glasses weren't distinguishing features when everyone had them.
"Harry is our... guest, the one we received those flyers about last year," William ended with a cough. Grell stared at him and then looked at Harry blankly.
Harry waved at him and smiled.
Grell turned back to William. "You're joking," he said and pointed dramatically at Harry. "This is that person?"
"Hey, rude," Harry said with a frown.
"Oh?" The man behind them spoke up, sounding intrigued. "So you are not a Grim Reaper then?"
"What are you then?" the boy asked blithely. "Some sort of guardian angel?"
Harry looked at the kid, then turned to William. "Do people really have those?" he asked curiously.
William sighed and adjusted his glasses with the tip of his clippers. Harry was in a lot of trouble when they got back to headquarters. He worried he might be grinning a little crazily, his cheeks felt stretched so wide.
"Certainly not an angel," the man said, an edge of laughter coloring his voice.
"Then what are you?" the boy demanded. "Accompanying Reapers to murder scenes and bringing the dead back to life! That shouldn't be possible."
Harry hummed, looking at the boy more carefully. He was rather young to be wandering around 'murder scenes' wasn't he. Couldn't be more than twelve, missing an eye, and so very, very bitter.
"Hey." Harry turned and smiled at Grell. When the redheaded Reaper looked at him, he pointed at the boy and man standing by the now fully alive, but unconscious woman. "What's with them?"
"Huh?" Grell gave him a confused look, glanced at the pair, then huffed and turned away. "Who knows?" he said with a careless shrug.
Harry kept smiling. "I asked you a question Reaper Grell. I expect an honest answer."
Grell hissed through his teeth and sent a narrow eyed look over his shoulder at him.
"Now, if you please." Harry smiled wider.
"Fine!" Grell bit out with a whine. "They're just some interlopers investigating the Ripper murders." He gave a nasty smirk to the boy. "And she happened to be his own aunt. Bet that'll be fun to report to the queen, eh?"
Harry blinked and glanced between the boy, the unconscious woman, and Grell. "You're kidding."
"I'm not!" Grell said indignantly. He waved a hand toward the woman on the ground as one might wave at a dog piddling on their yard. "She really is his aunt!"
"And... she's also Jack the Ripper." Harry looked at the bloody woman on the ground doubtfully.
"Exactly!" Grell said with a sharp grin. "Tragic, isn't it?"
"I thought you were the crazy murderer," Harry said slowly.
"No!" Grell waved his chainsaw thru the air, making it teeter back and forth playfully. "I was just collecting the souls she killed, since I had to collect them anyway, I figured it'd be more fun to watch them go!"
"That's… one of the worst excuses I've ever heard for murder." Harry had a sudden thought and turned back to William. "Oh my god, he's why you put up with me so well! You've had practice!" he said accusingly. William just sighed at him.
"Argh!" the boy suddenly shouted. "I've had enough of this! Sebastian, I order you to capture the second Jack the Ripper."
"Yes, my lord," the man said, a dark, eager smile coming onto his face.
Grell giggled at him and raised his chainsaw. "If you really want to play with me Seb-baby, I won't say no! We'll let our passion mingle with the blood on the walls!"
William tilted his clipper staff and suddenly it shot out and slammed into Grell's head, shoving him across the alley and pinning him to the wall as he shrieked.
Harry stepped back slowly, looking at his Reaper babysitter out of the corner of his eye. The clippers had gone very close to his nose and he figured it might be a good idea not to annoy William any further. He seemed to be at the end of his rope, dealing with two annoyances at once.
William took a deep breath, glanced briefly at Harry, who smiled weakly and waved a finger at him, then turned back to the boy and man, who were watching with a vague sort of shock.
"As I said earlier, I must apologize for the trouble my co-worker has caused you," he said monotonously. "Rest assured, he will be suitably disciplined."
"That's not good enough," the boy said coldly. "I gave my word to ensure the Queen's peace by ending Ripper's rampage, and I will do so."
"And how can we trust the Reapers' judgement, after they allowed one of their own to go completely unchecked?" the man, Sebastian, said reasonably.
"How are you going to keep him here?" Harry asked curiously.
Everyone looked at him, seeming to have forgotten about him while arguing. Harry gestured toward Grell, still pinned by William's clippers and whimpering pitifully.
"He's not human, and he can't die," he said and shrugged. "So how are you going to hold on to him? Jail him, try him, execute him? The human world has no capability to do any of these things."
The boy flushed and glared at him. "Then we shall just have to do our best, won't we? Sebastian!"
Sebastian smirked like a Cheshire cat, staring at Harry. "Yes, my lord," he purred, then he turned toward Grell and vanished.
He appeared only a moment later, knocking William's clippers to the side and grabbing Grell by his hair.
There was a scream, shrieking metal and sparks, and the almost wet sound of cloth ripping. Harry missed pretty much everything else, because he'd had to throw himself backwards to the ground in order to avoid getting hit in the face by William's staff as it was flung toward him by Sebastian's toss.
The alley was a full out battleground when Harry sat up. Sebastian had stolen Grell's chainsaw and was trying to slice off one of the redhead's limbs. William was stopping that, mainly by grabbing Grell with his clippers and throwing him into walls, while also trying to whack Sebastian at the same time.
The man couldn't be human, not with the easy way he danced out of harm's way again and again. Then Grell got thrown up onto the roof, and both Sebastian and William practically flew up the walls after him. Yeah, no way was he human.
A loud click broke the sudden quiet the squabbling Reapers and whatever the handsome man was had left behind, and Harry looked down to find the boy pointing a gun at him.
"I surrender," he said and raised his arms.
The boy glared. "Don't mock me!"
"Well what else do you say when someone's pointing a gun at you?" Harry asked with a shrug.
The boy sneered, but didn't seem to have an answer.
"So what's your name then?" Harry asked.
"What - I'm the one who'll ask the questions!"
"Oh? Like what?"
"You - what are you?!" The boy was getting very flustered. Probably it was his first time holding someone at gunpoint. "How did you heal Aunt An?"
"Rude," Harry said, shaking his head sadly. "Couldn't even ask for a name first, even after I was so polite."
The boy's face flushed and raised the gun higher. "You showed up accompanied by a Grim Reaper, and given the way they spoke of you, you must be of some importance to them."
"More like a recurring headache really."
The boy paused, looking nonplussed then grit his teeth and glared even harder at him.
"Careful, you hold it too long and your face will stick like that," Harry said cheerfully.
The boy looked like he was either going to scream or shoot him. Possibly both at once.
"It's Harry by the way." Harry gave his most magnanimous nod. "Since you didn't ask."
Poor kid. Harry wondered if it was possible for someone so young to have an aneurysm. Probably not.
He still might have shot Harry, if Grell hadn't slammed into the ground next to them. William landed lightly next to Harry, while Sebastian dropped silently beside the boy, Grell's chainsaw held loosely in his hands like a toy.
"Aren't you finished yet?" the boy snapped, apparently preferring to lash out at his friend rather than argue with Harry any more.
Sebastian smiled, eyes narrowed to slits. "This particular Reaper is more competent than the buffoon."
Grell groaned something from the pile of bruised limbs and tattered cloth he'd become. It might have been words, but the sound was too garbled to really make out.
"In any case, it doesn't seem my master has had any more luck against one not even trying to fight back," Sebastian teased the boy, giving him a charming, if mean looking smile.
"Why would I fight a kid?" Harry asked bemusedly.
If looks could burn... well, Harry would have caught fire before now. He smiled at the boy and stood up, brushing his trousers off. The gun followed him, but Harry couldn't bring himself to be concerned.
"So," he turned to William. "Are you done playing yet?"
William sniffed at him, and snapped his clippers shut. "I cannot allow one of our Death Scythes to remain in the hands of a beast like that."
"Oh, right." Harry looked back at Sebastian, gently waving Grell's chainsaw at them with obvious enjoyment. "It's weird you're having so much trouble with him. What is he exactly? A werewolf?"
Harry knew the instant he said it that he was wrong. William pushed his glasses up and ignored him, while Sebastian and the boy both stared at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion.
"Okay, so not a werewolf," Harry said with a shrug. "A galla? Or a satyr maybe? I can just keep guessing. I don't mind. Vampire?"
"He's a demon," William finally said, monotonous tone carrying an edge of annoyance.
Harry frowned and looked Sebastian's very handsome face and body over carefully. "He doesn't look like a demon."
"Oh?" Sebastian gave him a condescending smirk and tilted his head. "And what ought I to look like?"
Harry shrugged. "Don't know. I don't tend to interact much with demons. I don't like them."
"What a shame," the demon merely smiled and watched him from coyly lowered lashes. Harry figured a demon would enjoy being so attractive to humans, it probably lowered their defenses. "I suppose I shall just have to do my best to leave an impression."
"Stop playing around," the boy said angrily. "I gave you an order Sebastian."
"Ah, a butler's work is never done." The demon hefted the chainsaw over his shoulder and turned his pretty smirk on William. "I'm afraid my master has ordered your compatriot's capture. Please do keep trying to stop me if you wish to be beaten."
With that, the demon swung the chainsaw forward, revving the engine with a sharp yank of the pull-cord as he did. William barely had time to raise his staff before the chainsaw's teeth shrieked as they met the metal pole in a shower of sparks.
Harry looked between them and the kid who'd ordered the demon, suddenly feeling very tired. He let out a sigh and walked two steps over to William's side, reached out, and touched the unmoving flat piece of Grell's chainsaw. For a brief moment it glowed, then in a puff of smoke it vanished.
Sebastian had a single second to look shocked before William's clippers slammed into him and sent him flying to the back of the alley and thru a wall.
Harry stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at William. "Okay, the demon doesn't have the Death Scythe anymore. Can we go now?"
William stared at him, expressionless. "Now you want to leave?"
Harry shrugged. "Demons are boring," he said. "And anyway, you were right."
"...I was right?"
"Yeah," Harry said tiredly. "I thought anything that would be rewriting people's fates would be interesting, but it was just... someone slacking off."
Harry sent the still groaning pile of Grell a brief glare.
"This turned out more boring than I thought it would be."
"My apologies for not being more entertaining," the demon called out. He had pulled himself out of the broken wall he'd been thrown into, looking worse for wear but still very much intact and extremely irritated.
Harry shrugged. "I'm sure you can't help it."
That got him a nasty look, though it still managed to be annoyingly attractive.
William's clippers shot out to the side of the alley and grabbed the collar of Grell's shirt. It retracted back to William, dragging the redhead until he was laying at the Reaper's feet.
"Well then, our apology has been properly delivered and predictably rejected," William said as he adjusted his glasses. "But what more can one expect from a demon. For now I will consider our business concluded."
He turned and walked away, and Harry followed.
"Wait!" the boy called behind them. "You can't just leave!"
Harry glanced at William curiously. "Hey, aren't we supposed to erase people's memories, or...?"
"It's going in the report," William said stiffly.
Harry frowned. "So, no then." Guess the Grim Reapers couldn't do anything if people found out about them. It would explain why there were so many superstitions about them.
"Don't just ignore m-!" The boy's furious voice cut off suddenly.
Harry looked back and saw the demon was muffling the kid's mouth with his hand. The boy looked absolutely incensed, but the demon, Sebastian, was watching him, completely blank, his eyes glowing eerie red.
A child with his own demon. Harry was definitely tired now.