Okay, I kind of got busy with school and didn't have a chance to update my Hetalia Characters React fanfiction, so to apologize, I spent two whole nights writing this. I'm so sorry you guys!
Love, Ravy
Grell was working, which wasn't normal at all for him. And as a good boss, William was concerned. Will slowly walked up to Grell's desk with a look of worry on his face. "Err... Grell?" William said his name again and again, desperately trying to get his attention, but to no avail. Will started to get irritated. "Sutcliff!"
Grell looked up from his work (which was all filled out. There really is something wrong. Will thought). "Hm?"
"Are you... uh... feeling okay? You seem very..."
"On task? Yes, Willy, I wish to get my work done. I've kind of changed... You should be proud of me!" His voice got seductive. "I know how much you love it when I do my work!" William ignored his partner's suggestive comment with an annoyed sigh. He didn't believe his subordinate, no matter how much he said he was fine.
"Are you sure? You nev-"
Grell growled through sharp, gritted teeth. "I am perfectly fine, William. Thank you very much for asking." And at that, the red reaper, who was now more red in the face than usual, turned back to his work. Will was not dumb; he had known Grell for years and they have been partners for the longest time. William would know when the other man was uneasy. William T. Spears would get to the bottom of things, no matter what.
I don't want to help him, but I must if I want him to get anything done around here.
"Grell?" Sebastian called his lover's name and shook the reaper awake. "Shit, I have a headache..." Grell muttered sleepily, holding his head and squinting to escape the sunlight searing his eyes. "This is a hangover," Sebastian said knowingly, "You are probably accustomed to it, being out drinking so much. This is an iss-"
"I understand it's an issue, Bassy. You don't have to remind me." Grell groaned. He hated the fact he had a drinking problem, but "life" as a grim reaper was an excruciating one for Grell Sutcliff. He was the outcast, the loner, the slacker.
The freak.
But when he drank, all that was forgotten; the effects of alcohol fogging his mind with false bliss. False freedom. Though he usually came home highly intoxicated and with a gashing wound or two. And who was responsible for him? Sebastian. And Sebastian already had a master.
So as usual, Grell was left alone half of the time. And that half of the time, the whiskey was gone. Only when... but they rarely went out anymore. Anti-socialism was fear in Grell's eyes. And Grell wasn't afraid of anything. Except himself. He really hated himself, and despite his feminine personality, Grell refused to look in a mirror. In his eyes, he was ugly, useless, a disgrace, a pain.
That's why he drank.
"You are in desperate need of help," Sebastian reasoned, "Does your boss kn-"
"William must not find out!" Grell snapped, causing Sebastian to stagger away. He was taken aback. Grell was never this angry, even after a night of drinking. Sebastian knew this. In an effort to calm the reaper down, and to get away before Grell got angrier, the butler made him some tea. Sip after silent sip Grell seemed to lighten up, the tea thawing his insides and bubbling calmly in his stomach. "You see," Grell giggled despite the pain in his head, "This is why I love you."
Sebastian nodded and smiled the way he did when he was on the verge of killing someone; This wasn't the Grell Sutcliff he used to know. He never drank, there wasn't a visible wound. But now? Now there were scars on his skin and his heart. Sebastian Michaelis was going to get to the bottom of things, no matter what.
What an adventure this will be!
Will racked his brain for an idea to help his subordinate. But the case was too hard to crack; Grell was the only person they couldn't understand completely, so this posed as a challenge for the reaper. "Who the hell does understand Sutcliff?" Will scratched his head in frustration, getting his fingers partially tangled in his dark brown hair. Then it hit him.
The Demon.
That was who Grell was staying with, right? Will smiled devilishly and looked outside his immaculate window. Will had to have everything perfectly clean, and if it wasn't, OCD kicked in and the reaper got mad at everyone and everything that got in the way of his cleaning. The Phantomhive Manor sat in morbid darkness, covered in snow and stalking the rest of London like a haunting shadow in the night. So many secrets were hidden behind those walls, including the way to crack Grell and help him. But Wait... William? Caring about Grell? He laughed at his ridiculous thought.
"Preposterous... I just want him to stop slacking. That. Is. It." But Will was not convincing himself that he didn't care for his partner. With a sigh, he tried to forget about the reaper and focused his attention on how he was going to get into the Manor. Ciel Phantomhive had a very obvious hatred for him, for every reaper at that, but he didn't care; This was Grell that had a problem. Who knows what would happen if things got out of hand? Another Jack The Ripper, probably. The last thing the Dispatch wanted was more people dead that were not on The List.
Another Jack The Ripper would be unacceptable.
Will frowned. "How am I going to get in the Manor without being seen... or practically killed, at that?"
A thought then came rushing into his head at such force, he almost fell back. He shook his head at the thought. "No, I can't do that... That would be just strange." Why would he do that, anyways? Stupid, just stupid... Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid...
It was so stupid that it could work.
William stood up and walked towards the closet he rarely ever opened.
It was there. In the back of the closet.
William T. Spears smirked, golden eyes lighting up.
The amazing William T. Spears is back.
There was no sign of Sebastian that night, and Grell was alone again. But this time? This time Grell did not drink. "I'm not in the mood today," the red-clad reaper figured, "Maybe tomorrow. No, not maybe... probably." Sebastian had been gone since earlier that day, and now it was midnight. Where was he? "He's probably with his 'master.'" Grell thought out loud, twirling a lock of long crimson hair around a frail finger, "Demons aren't suppose to be bound by a contract, they're suppose to be free to go out and steal souls." A kind of weak laugh escaped his cherry-red lips. "Yet all he wants is that master of his. One of these days Phantomhive will... I don't know... kick Bassy out. Then what? Ciel Phantomhive's precious soul is out of Bassy's reach!" Now the weak laugh came on stronger. "That'll surely be a sight to see!" It felt good to laugh; Grell hadn't done that in a while.
A knock at the door startled Grell, his head turning towards the door . His red hair trailed behind him as the reaper took quick steps to the door. He opened it.
A disheveled man with dirt-covered skin and dressed in ragged clothing was standing at the door. The beggar's beard and wrinkled-up face indicated the he was older than Grell, yet his determined yellow eyes sparkled with youth. Those eyes, Grell thought, the man's hard gaze still on the red reaper inside the house. Grell felt bad for the man and was thinking of letting him stay inside for a while, though the thought that a dirty man such as the one outside would make a horrible mess... and Sebastian fairly mad. But he looks so poor and helpless... I must be a gentlewoman and help him out... Grell plastered a fake smile on his face.
"Hello, sir." Grell said, trying to sound as happy as he could manage, "Can I help you?"
The man didn't talk... Or move; he just kept his eyes focused on the reaper. What was his problem? Couldn't the beggar hear? Grell was getting irritated and finally decided to ask again. "I said, can I help you?" The anger in his voice was becoming very obvious, and Grell wanted to smack himself for how bad he was treating the innocent beggar.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid... That is no way to treat a poor man standing outside. Although I wish he would answer when I talked to him. With a sigh, Grell's smiled again. "Do you want something?"
As if on cue, the man outside cupped his hands together and put them out for the reaper to see his palms. The beggar wanted food. And was in desperate need of a good hand-washing before anything to eat was given; The old man's hands were coated in dirt.
Proud of himself for the first time in a while, the blood-red man smiled happily at the one outside. "I'll get you some food, Mr..." Grell trailed off. What was the strange man's name? Grell laughed. "I'm sorry, I don't think I got you name." Even if it was just a trick to make the beggar speak, Grell was a curious man, too. There was a long silence, long enough to irritate the red reaper, then came a quiet croak from the beggar. He said two words:
"John... Williams."
What's a beggar doing at our door this late at night?
Sebastian checked his pocket watch. 1 o'clock? He thought, now walking faster back to the Manor. The bar where Grell always went was far from the Phantomhive estate, and he didn't know exactly how his lover managed to stumble back. God, I hope I haven't left him too long. There's a man from America coming and I want to serve him some good wine. That cannot happen if he drank it all. That had happened the last time, too; the visitor (who did end up dying on the grounds of the Manor. That was normal.) got no wine because someone had emptied the bottle. The walk was a long one, and the sky was dark with night. The only light came from the few lamps that were lit in some houses. As the manor approached, Sebastian's keen eyes saw a small, unfamiliar figure inside the Manor.
Inside the Manor?!
The Demon broke out into a run. Someone was inside, and it wasn't anyone he knew. His first thought, which was also his first instinct, was as it usually was; Someone's going to harm Young Master. His eyes glowed red. No one must touch the Young Master. His eyes dulled again. It wasn't that Sebastian didn't care about Grell, it's just the Young Master was in danger, and Young Master's soul comes before job which comes a little before love. Soon Sebastian set foot at the front steps of the Phantomhive Manor, not bothering to knock to get in. The door slammed behind him and he ran to the room where he saw the figure earlier. There were trails of dirt on the floor, making the carpet stained the color of mud. It will be a pain to clean unless those lazy servants actually did something around here, Sebastian thought. He finally reached the kitchen.
"Grell?!"
The reaper looked up from the table where he and an old, dirty man stood eating the hors d'oeuvres for the next day's visitor (Sebastian sighed in disappointment. First the wine, now the hors d'oeuvres. Then what?). Seeing Sebastian for the first time all day, Grell sprung up and hugged him with a choking squeeze. But the Demon wasn't very taken aback by the attacks anymore, now he found it cute... But this time, Sebastian stayed with no emotion, staring at the unfamiliar man munching loudly on a piece of toast. Grell, noticing that his lover wasn't paying attention to him and him alone, let go of Sebastian. "What is it?" the reaper asked, head cocked and hand on a slim hip.
"Oh, nothing," the butler said with sarcasm lacing his voice, "Just the man sitting in the kitchen!" Sebastian pointed a long pale finger at the man. The old man waved. Grell laughed nervously. "Oh... You mean him. Bassy," -Sebastian glared at his lover- "this is John Williams. John, this is my," - the Demon's fearful stare hardened- "... Uhhh... This is Sebastian, the butler at this Manor." Sebastian and John just stared at each other.
The reaper laughed. "Go on you two. Shake hands!"
"You're drunk again."
"What was that, Sebastian?" Grell cocked his head again.
"You're drunk again, aren't you?"
The man in red gasped. "No, Bassy. I was not in the mood today, and I know you have someone coming from... Was it America? Yes, I'm pretty sure... Anyways! I know you have someone coming from somewhere and 'they need wine'." Grell imitated his lover's serious tone of voice. Then he laughed fakely, indicating that his impression was done and trying to calm the frantic butler. "And learning from my mistakes, I resisted my urges to pop the bottle open! You should be proud of me, Bassy!" A light kiss shut Sebastian up for a while. "Now go upstairs." the reaper said calmly, "You need your sleep. I'll clean Johnny up. Go on now..." With that, Sebastian was ushered upstairs into their room.
When he knew Grell was gone, Sebastian got up.
He walked down the stairs to eavesdrop.
It was time.
I see that Spears isn't the only one trying to help Grell.
William was in enemy territory again, and was fairly threatened by it. And his stupid disguise was very itchy. But a Shinigami never gives up, even on the hardest cases; that was rule number 7. But it seems that Grell has broken that rule, just like every other one. "John" focused intently, listening to the fellow talk about... well... he was fairly confused and understood less than half of his co-worker's blabbing, and just stood there and listened. Until the subject came up.
"Would you like a glass of wine or something?" Grell's long red hair and coat matching the same color whipped behind him as he stood up and walked to the small glass cabinet where the alcohol was held. Grell visited this cabinet often.
"John" stood there silently.
"Well, I guess I shouldn't..." The reaper sighed and looked out a large window. It was still dark, about two-thirty in the morning, and the full moon shone so brightly it seemed as if the sun itself was still out. Snow fell silently outside, and soon all the roofs of the distant houses were now coated in a pure white blanket. "John" uttered something quietly.
"Why?"
"Hm?" Grell turned his head away from the window. "John" noticed his host's eyes filled with unshed tears. Will, in disguise, spoke again.
"Why can't I have any wine?" "John's" eyes, his golden eyes, sparkled with innocence and youth, though his old body creaked like a rusted gear. His golden eyes would eventually give away his disguise. Grell did always say that Will had the most amazing eyes in the world.
The blood-red reaper sighed in melancholy and pain and guilt. "Sit down, John. This will be a long story." Grell's voice was filled with an echoey sadness that Will had never heard before. There really was something wrong. As his co-worker had told him, John sat down. He scratched his fake beard. Knowing Grell, this was going to be a long story, especially since his last "long story" was about half an hour of constant blabbering. But that was his usual, childish blabbering. Now? Now it was finally serious.
Should Will have been relieved or worried?
He wasn't sure anymore. Grell sat down on a chair in the middle of the large kitchen and tried to start telling his story.
"I..."
Keyword: tried.
Is he going to tell me or not?
No words came out. Was the reaper ashamed of his addiction? Of course. And did he need help? Of course! In Grell's eyes, though, telling a complete stranger about it was kind of ridiculous. But something about John Williams made it seem like the red reaper could trust him. He tried again.
"Well... uhh... you see..."
Again. Keyword: tried.
John cocked his head. "Why?" he stated once more. God, this man is persistent. thought Grell in disappointment. He had never met someone so determined to get something. Except William, of course...
William.
Grell sighed again. He still had to tell his boss about his... his problem. Grell's addiction had been bugging him more than most people knew, and if grim reapers could die, Grell Sutcliff would've commit suicide a long time ago. It was that bad for him sometimes... The thought of death, the thought of peaceful, dark death, seemed perfect for a freak. That's where freaks belong, right? Burned at the stakes or tortured to death? Different was bad in this world, and different was all that he was.
One more try. His words came out timidly. "I... kind of have a... a slight... slight drinking problem?" Grell waited for his visitor to make a remark, but surprisingly, John said nothing. He just stared silently. With his hypnotizing golden eyes. Staring into them made Grell shudder.
There's something so familiar about those eyes...
But who does it remind me of?
Grell shook his head of the ridiculous though and went on again.
"And... when I'm alone, which is a lot, I... drink any alcohol I can find. Also, if I start I cannot stop. Sebastian doesn't like it when I drink either, and I don't want to get him mad. I will become envious of you, so please. I'm so very sorry, sir..." Tears ran down the scarlet reaper's porcelain skin and down to the white carpet, staining it with lonely and helpless drop after drop. John's usually dull golden eyes were now lit by some sort of mischief and a smirk was plastered onto his wrinkled face.
"I understand." The old beggar said. But... there was all of a sudden this... voice that didn't fit the man. It sounded younger.
It sounded younger.
This man wasn't what he seemed.
The grim reaper was starting to get suspicious. Who is this? Grell questioned, looking at the "beggar" sitting before him. Now that he looked closer, the wrinkles on his face looked like expertly put-on makeup. The blood-red man was very determined to find out who this "helpless old beggar" really was. And he doubted it was going to make him happy. With a sniff, Grell began investigation.
"So... I've told you something about myself, now what about you? What do you do?"
Will blinked nervously. He hadn't thought of that. There was finally something that Grell figured out before he. About time, too... There were some times when Grell would not notice things if it stood right in front of his face. Maybe that was a side effect of the drinking.
The drinking. Now Will could help.
The case was cracked slightly.
Now, how to get out of there before he was found out...
I cannot afford being caught.
Slowly, carefully, John stood up and creeped away, one small, unnoticeable step at a time. It was barely enough for Grell to notice, but eventually he would be out of the damn Manor. Step step step. He went slower than anticipated, but soon he was away from the couch, and his hostess, and almost to the door... Then a voice piped up, with a tone that sounded quite annoyed.
"Now where are you going, my good sir?" Sebastian said, peeking from behind a corner.
Dang, William thought, staring at the Demon butler wide-eyed, Sebastian might be onto my disguise... And that would be no good. The Demon would probably kill him; hatred can drive people to do things, and this was Sebastian Michaelis, so he would do it even if there was no reason. That's how Demons are, though.
A glare from red eyes pierced through yellow ones like daggers just as the two made eye contact. Will gasped, his chances of success growing slimmer and slimmer. It was going to be a lot harder for the amazing William T. Spears to get away with this one. Quickly, Will averted his eyes from the beast standing before him and looked up at the wall behind Sebastian. Candlesticks made of silver and gold lined the walls, the fire lit in them danced like ballet dancers on a stage. How did the Phantomhives manage to get enough money for everything in their house? Who cares how much? As long as I can get out of here undiscovered. Helping a coworker was his first priority when he came, but that was changing. Leaving alive was now first.
"N-nowhere...?" Will, playing the part, croaked out.
"Are you sure?" A devilish smirk creeped upon the Demon's face, "It seemed as if you were in a hurry to leave..."
My sincere apologies about the cliffhanger, but books are no fun unless you have no clue what is to happen next. Plus, I like to see you begging for more.
See you next time, Raven G. Black