A/N: Note to self, don't use the copy and paste feature when uploading new docs. Thanks for pointing out the formatting issue, and so begins the actual story!

The sharp click of heels sounded against the drab tile floor of the Grim Reaper Association's London Branch, each one bouncing off the walls in an echo as Grell Sutcliff made his way. The sound reminded him so much of a ticking clock, steadily counting down what seemed like his final moments. Soon, he would be faced with a single, boring door. Any moment now, that door would open, and so, too, would Pandora's Box.

Click... click...click…

Really, so what if he had managed to botch his last assignment? It was a boring one, anyway. So a few people died that weren't supposed to; what was the big deal? Their names may have not been on the To-Die list, but they would have been soon enough. It was just a matter of time, really; prostitutes died left and right, even without Grell's help. It's not like their continued life would be beneficial to the world or anything. In his own opinion, he did a wonderful job, killing five or six birds with one stone.

Click... click…

William saw things differently, he supposed. After all, he'd made it perfectly clear that he wanted to see the Grell in his office the moment his injuries were no longer a concern. And if the redhead were to be perfectly honest, the wounds he suffered at the hands of that demon had stopped hurting two or three days ago. He had simply stayed in his apartment the entire time, trying to put this meeting off as long as he possibly could. It had taken every last ounce of poor Ronald's determination to convince him that it was best to get this over with.

Click.

Grell paused mere inches from the door in front of him, trying to chase away his worries before entering. After all, this was William. To anyone else, that might seem like more of a threatening thought than being placed in front of the entire Board of Judicial Affairs. But Grell and William were close, in spite of how much the latter might try to deny it. Perhaps he would write out an order of suspension or demotion, but Will would never outright terminate his job. Cold man that he was, he wasn't blatantly cruel.

His concerns replaced with a sort of reassurance, Grell took a deep breath and put on a smile. He raised his hand for a moment, contemplating on a knock before scrapping that idea and just throwing the blasted thing open to let himself inside.

"Will, I'm here~! What is it you wanted to see me about?"

If looks could kill, the glare William gave the redhead sauntering into his office would have slaughtered an entire army. He sat quietly and politely behind his desk, elbows propped up on the mahogany and his hands clasped loosely together in front of his face. In front of him sat a thin manilla folder, a few papers sticking out of the side, as if they'd been gone through recently and just tossed back in haphazardly.

"Do you know, by chance, why you're here, Grell?" William asked, though it had a deeply rhetorical tone.

Of course Grell knew why he was there - how couldn't he? Getting him to admit it, though, that was another story entirely. "I'm here because you called me here, silly," he pointed out without missing a beat, chuckling softly as he closed the door to the office and made his way to stand in front of William's desk. Gloved hands slid to his hips, shifting his weight to one leg as he waited for William to continue. "So what is it that you want? You'd better start explaining soon, else I'm going to get bored."

The manilla envelope slid across the desk and stopped just short of falling off. "I wouldn't find myself in a position to make remarks like that, if I were in your situation."

Green and yellow eyes flickered to the folder as Grell's recently-placed confidence dropped every moment. Grell let his hands fall from his hips, a few delicate fingers brushing over the cover before flipping it open, tracing the words as he skimmed the first page. A list of laws he had broken, done in William's own hand by the elegant look of it. It wasn't anything he didn't expect, really. Illegal modification and use of his death scythe, his disappearance, meddling in the affairs of the living world, murder. How boring. He knew all of that.

Grell stopped at that page, eyes briefly traveling up to study William. Oh, there was that glare again... Under any normal circumstance, that look sent shivers up and down his spine. He supposed it still had the same effect now, just for a different cause entirely. Where he normally built himself up under that cruel stare, now he was shrinking under it. For lack of a better word, Will looked pissed off.

"Keep reading," Will instructed when Grell stared a moment too long, tone firm and monotonous. Definitely pissed off.

Grell relented and lifted up the report, eyes scanning over the pages rather quickly. Heaving a sigh, he flipped to another page and continued to read. It was a surprisingly lengthy report for how few pages there were. Again, though, these pages were filled with things Grell already knew. One was even a written page of the Association's codes of conduct, and rules that he had broken were underlined. The Board could be so dull and thorough at times that it was downright tedious, especially when it came to him. In their defense, Grell liked to look for loopholes and took advantage of when they didn't mention something, so he supposed they were just taking extra precautions.

Turning another page, Grell's eyes narrowed and then widened in shock. Evidence list.. Evidence list?! Grell scanned down the paper quickly, noting so many of his belongings on there. His death scythe was on there! What was this nonsense? Hurriedly, Grell flipped to the final page of the report, but he didn't even make it past the heading:

District Court of The Realm of Death Gods

Subpoena ad testificandum

In the matter of Realm v. Sutcliff

The manilla casing and the rest of its contents were discarded on the desk and Grell had either side of the piece of paper in such a tight grasp that he was sure his knuckles were whitening beneath his gloves. "Will... Will, what is this?" he asked, willing his voice to keep steady and quiet. His eyes left the paper to meet Will's, searching for any spark of reassurance in that ever-calm, ever-persistent stare. "Tell me that this isn't what I think it is."

"Tell you that it's not a summons? I don't make a habit of lying," Will said, finally looking away from his subordinate to gather up the papers that the other had so carelessly scattered across his desk. "This is also doubling as an eviction notice. Given that the Momento Mort apartment complex is free housing only provided to those within the Association, you're asked to have your things out within the next forty-eight hours."

Grell's eyes followed William's hands, his throat constricting tightly as a mix of anger and panic welled up in him. Gloved fingers curled dangerously around the court summons, effectively crumpling it before the redhead slammed his hands on the desk in front of him. "How can you be so calm?!" he yelled, mere inches from his supervisor's face. William merely raised his head to look at Grell; nothing more, nothing less. No hint of emotion at all. "I'm about to lose everything and you don't even-"

"I don't see how that's my problem, Grell."

"Come again?"

William pushed his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose before leaning back in his chair to regain some form of privacy. "Seeing as how you are apparently incapable of only reaping those who are fated to die, the Board has seen fit to remove you from your position. You've shown yourself to be an incompetent reaper and a disgrace to the Association. That is no one's fault but your own."

A look of shock passed Grell's features, eyes widening just the slightest bit. Incompetent? A disgrace? Whatever Grell could have said in his defense was lost on him; he wasn't even able to form a coherent thought, let alone argue this point with Will. Will, of all people.. This was the man that he had been partners with, the man he had spent the better part of a century pining over. That same man thought he was a disgrace?

Pushing himself away from the desk, Grell straightened himself up and clenched his jaw, absentmindedly brushing imaginary dirt off his vest. "I see," he said simply, taking up the manilla folder and crumpled subpoena from the otherwise clear desk. He straightened the abused paper out as much as he could before slipping it back into the file and clutching it to his chest. "I'm terribly sorry to have been such a disgrace, William."

Grell turned on his heel, moving toward the door. He paused momentarily after his fingers curled around the door knob, wanting so badly to say something more. What he wanted to say, he wasn't really sure. To tell William that he was wrong? To say he was sorry? To beg and plead for the safety of his job? His fingers tightened around the door handle, closing his eyes to fight back a sharp, familiar sting before opening the door and quietly closing it behind him, no matter how badly he wanted to slam it.

He took his time leaving, savoring his final moments in the same building he'd just referred to as dull and drab. Everything was so white, so pristine, so bland, but it wasn't until he was faced with losing his job that he realized it would miss it terribly. He'd miss the hustle of the rest of the staff around him, running between departments to try and compensate for understaffing. He'd miss working with Ronald, with Alan, with Eric, with-

Choking back his tears, Grell pushed through the glass doors of the Grim Reaper Association for the last time. He took the steps slowly, not particularly feeling like going back to his apartment. Or what used to be his apartment, rather, as William had been so kind to point out that he was also being evicted. Where would he go? He just lost his job, and without that, he couldn't really afford any other means of housing. He wasn't proficient in anything else. He'd been doing field work for so long that he never had to picture himself doing anything else. Now he felt useless.

Grell approached his apartment with a shaken breath, fumbling a moment to get the key in the lock. Damn William, he thought, struggling with the lock a moment more before he was able to open the door. Damn Will, and damn the Board.

He closed the door softly behind him, depositing of his coat and shoes and dumping himself onto his couch, dropping the file he'd received from William on the small coffee table. Grell scowled. That stupid file. It really served no other purpose than to officially tell Grell that his entire life was over. He'd been such a dedicated reaper save for this last assignment, and this is how the Board repaid him? In a fit of rage, Grell snatched the damned folder from his table, launching it toward the opposite wall before throwing himself to lay down on the couch, turned to the cushions. He was sure that he would look a pathetic sight if anyone could have seen him throwing a tantrum like a berated child.

He would get through this, William be damned. Grell was fiercely independent and far too hot-headed to just lay down and die. Yes, he would find a way to make it through this.

For now though, he allowed himself to cry.

Cry, and rest.