Grell had barely hung up her coat before there was a knock at the door. She scowled, neither in the mood to nor prepared to deal with guests. They'd not be anyone she wanted to see, anyway. The entire London branch either had orders not to visit, or nobody had any interest in visiting, and if she thought too long about which it was she'd just make herself more upset. Grell turned to head into the kitchen.
The knock came again, and this time, she recognized the sharp, successive taps. William.
Far more cheerful, she bounded over to the door and flung it, and her arms, wide open. "William!"
He just stood there, as though her answering her own door had caught him off guard.
Grell lowered her arms. "Will? Are you okay?"
William's hair was out of sorts, his suit was an absolute disaster of clashing, if subtle, patterns, and in his arms he cradled something swaddled in a pink blanket. Grell's heart leapt into her throat. "William," she said more quietly. "Is that...?"
"You need to fix it, Sutcliff." He didn't even bother with formalities as he shoved past her and into her kitchen, where the bundle was deposited on the table. William unwrapped it for her examination.
She made a mild noise of distress. "Not the percolator. Oh, William. I'm so sorry. How long...?"
"Slingby broke it two days ago. I thought I would be all right without it, at least until maintenance could look at it. But do you know how long it'll take?" William spoke with careful neutrality, but Grell could see the clench of his jaw, the fact that he was talking through gritted teeth. She took a step backwards. "Two weeks. Two weeks to fix the damn thing! This place is useless! I need my coffee, Grell. I need it."
"It's okay," she said soothingly, petting the air in front of William as though any closer contact would earn her a bite. The fact that he was disparaging the bureaucracy of reapers spoke volumes more than he probably intended. Though she had worried her social graces had atrophied without anyone to practice on, Grell easily slipped into a mothering role at Will's blatant distress. "You just go lay on the couch and close your eyes while I brew up a nice, strong batch, okay? I'll have this fixed post haste, then we'll do something about... that." She gestured at his entire person.
All the tension left William's shoulders at that, and he nodded gratefully. "Yes. Okay. I'll do that. I have a meeting in Manchester tomorrow. And I just - yes. Thanks."
Once she got Will settled in the dark of her living room, with his jacket and waistcoat thrown over a chair, a blanket over his lap, and a pillow fluffed up nice and soft, Grell crept back to the kitchen. She took a moment to watch him mumbling to himself, eyes squeezed tightly shut as though through force of will alone he could find some peace. Grell knew some of this was her fault. Being on suspension meant one less reaper at the already strained dispatch, and William was always very high stress, though he usually kept it contained much better. She hadn't known quite how worrying his coffee dependency was.
Her brows furrowed at what the office must be like without her. Quieter, which was probably a good thing, but also without their resident mechanic and mother on hand. Nobody had been getting food into the dispatch agents, or keeping the first aid kits stocked up, or letting them vent safely about each other, she was sure of it. She couldn't even bear to think how William was managing without her at his front door like clockwork every morning, especially since the answer was trying to sleep on her couch.
Grell turned to the issue at hand. What was done, was done, and now all she could do was get some coffee into Will, fix his machine, and maybe make a few snacks for the boys.
She brought out her scythe tool kit and began dismantling the percolator while her own, trusty kettle cooked on the stove. She worked until the kettle began to build to a whistle, then set about getting a nice little plate together for William.
When she brought it out, she found him asleep with the pillow pulled over his face to shield him from the light pouring in from the kitchen. Smiling, Grell tiptoed over and set the plate down on the coffee table for when he woke up. After adjusting the blanket so it covered him a little more fully, she retreated to the kitchen and pulled the curtain between rooms closed.
The damage to the percolator wasn't bad, mostly around the heating element, and once she looked it over, it was easy enough to replace pieces with close-enough matches from her kit and solder connections back together. The poor thing had suffered worse damage in the many years it had served the dispatch, and while Grell couldn't fix its appearance, she was sure she could work her magic and get it functioning yet again. She closed the percolator up, and gave it a quick run-through. The smell of coffee filled the small kitchen.
William materialized in the door as though summoned, a cup of cold coffee in one hand, a half-eaten sandwich in the other. While he looked tousled, he also looked far less strung-out than he had before.
"It's fixed!" Grell announced proudly, presenting a fresh cup to William for his approval.
He swapped it with the old coffee, took a sip. Grell waited with baited breath and clasped hands. He nodded. "It's acceptable."
Grell clapped. "That's one problem solved, now to the other!"
A subtle look of worry flickered across William's face, but the coffee assuaged any serious concerns. "The other problem?"
"Your outfit is a disaster, my dear. I hope this isn't indicative of a more serious issue - that is, that you can't dress yourself without me there."
"I couldn't find my glasses," William muttered sullenly, still hiding behind his coffee. Grell tutted. It certainly must have been a rough few days for Will to lose his glasses. If he'd just let her give him one of her spare chains, this wouldn't be a problem. She never lost her glasses, even in fights, but despite their practicality, he always refused.
So Grell simply said, "You have them now, so reconsider everything you're wearing."
"Dully noted. " William was already sounding more like his dry, prickly self. "Thank you for your help, Sutcliff, but I have to get back to the office with that." He gestured toward the percolator.
"Of course you do," Grell said with a sigh. It was back to being alone in the dark, with only her thoughts (of which she had many, and which were often quite dark) for company. "I made some sandwiches for everyone. Could you take them for me?"
"Gladly. Between the lack of food and the lack of coffee, I'm lucky there haven't been any serious injuries." William finished off his own sandwich as Grell cleaned up the percolator and wrapped it again in its blanket.
She almost didn't want to let it go when they paused in front of the door, but William was waiting, a look of impatience inching its way into his eyes. "Just remember, Will. I made that with my repair kit, so it has scythe pieces in it. Don't go reaping anyone with the percolator, okay?"
"I will try my best not to reap Slingby with the percolator, much as I may want to," William dutifully repeated, earning a smile from Grell. He was bouncing back wonderfully. That put her at ease that the office would survive, in some state, until she returned.
"Close enough. Tell everyone I miss them."
"Of course."
"I miss you too, Will."
"Perhaps I should come visit," he said stiffly, shifting the percolator and plate of sandwiches in his arms. "Everyone's been overworked, so I imagine nobody has had the chance to come by and update you yet on the policy changes."
Hearing that lifted a gloom which Grell had gotten so accustomed to that she forgot it existed, and she lit up. They hadn't been avoiding her. "You're absolutely correct. I haven't heard anything about policy changes."
"You will. Let's say... Thursday? At this time?" At Grell's quick agreement, he gave a resolute nod. "Goodbye, then, Grell."
"Bye, Will."
Grell stood at the door a while longer, just appreciating the fact that William had been there, and that he was going to be there again. But soon the darkness of her entryway got to her, chasing her back into the living room. She curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket William had folded with unerring precision around herself, and waited for one more day of her suspension to tick slowly past.