Grell sat on the edge of his red sheeted bed, a bucket of warm, red water in front of him. He dunked the red stained cloth in his hand into the water. His eyeliner streaked his pale face. He wrung the rag out and brought it to his bloody right shoulder. The warm water stung the hole in his shoulder. His hand shook. He couldn't take it no more. He just couldn't. William had hurt him for the last time. He gripped the rag tighter, pink beads of water sliding down his reddened torso and into the bucket.

The door creaked open slowly. It could only be William.

"Grell…?" William said softly.

Grell said nothing. He continued to tend to his wound. He poured alcohol on the rag and dabbed gently, wincing.

"Grell, I'm-"

"Just shut up!" Grell snapped. "Just shut up. I'm tired of being your stupid punching bag! I'm tired of it, sick of it, done with it!" He struggled to wrap his shoulder up. "I'm fed up with all your beatings!"

William sat down beside Grell and tried to help. "Just let me-"

"Don't touch me!" He shoved William away. "You can help by getting me an ice pack and leave me the hell alone!"

William looked honestly hurt. He slowly pulled his hands back to his sides. He silently stood and moved to the kitchen. He leaned against the refrigerator and closed his eyes. What had done it again after promising he wouldn't. But he couldn't help it. The red head made him so mad sometimes. He'd hit him most of the time but Grell had never made him upset enough to use his scythe to hurt him. He sighed and got one of the many red ice packs and made his way back to Grell.

Grell sat with his chainsaw in his lap. He used the rag to wipe it down. William slowly made his way in, taking his scythe and setting it aside. Grell's head lowered. William lifted Grell's chin, examining his face. His right eye was an ugly shade of black and purple and swollen shut. He didn't realize he had punched him so hard.

"I thought I said don't touch me!" Grell glared at William, snatching his head away.

"You did, but I chose to ignore it."

"Clearly." Grell took the ice pack and used it like and eye patch. He threw William's pillow at him. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight. And don't even try to sneak into bed or I will cut your head clean off your body so fast, you'd be watching the blood spurt from your body."

William caught the pillow and looked down and shuttered at the threat. He was utterly disappointed in himself for getting kicked out of the bed. He made his way down to the living room. Grell has kicked him out of the bed many times, but each time, he never really had to sleep on the couch. He looked at the dark red leather couch. From the sound of Grell's threat, it looked like the couch was going to be his makeshift bed for a while. He sat down on the couch, the leather squeaking under his weight. He sighed and laid down.

"I deserve this," he muttered. "I deserve this."

The next morning, Grell wouldn't look at William or talk to him. He spent longer than usual in putting on his make up in an attempt to hide his black eye. His eye was still swollen, though not swollen shut anymore. His injured shoulder slowed down his morning routine.

It was almost at the end of the day before Grell said something to William. The whole day, Grell sat in his small, red-painted office filling out his reports or out doing field work.

"Here," Grell dropped his large stack of papers on William's messy-neat desk before turning and to leave.

"Grell." Grell turned back around, glaring at the brunette, his expression yelling 'What?' William used his scythe to close the door, making Grell visibly wince at the sight of it. "I want to make it up to you." He quickly continued when he saw Grell's expression change. "No, no. Not like we usually do. Make up sex isn't going to do anything about this…. I'd like to take you to a nice restaurant and have a decent meal together. I can stop by that store to get that dress you wanted…"

"Today…?" Grell asked in a small voice.

William got up to stand in front of Grell. He brushed a gloved finger over his lips and cheek. William readied himself for a hard slap. Instead his hand was swatted away.

"Today?" Grell asked again, more annoyed this time.

"Today."

"This is your last chance, Will," Grell said, looking William in his eyes. "I mean it. One more screw up and your dream of a little family is gone." He pushed the brunette away, leaving.

Grell made his way down the hallway back to his own office. He checked his list to see if there was any last minute to souls to collect before his shift ended. There were none. Scythe in hand, Grell left the dispatch building and headed home. He rolled his injured shoulder, wincing as it popped. On the walk home, he practiced swinging his scythe with his left hand. It was tricky for him since he was right handed. He couldn't quite move it like he wanted to. He swung his scythe over his shoulder, annoyed with his slow movements. He sighed and turned down the dirt path to the house. He plucked the house key from its hiding spot in the hanging flowerpot above his head and unlocked the door, putting it back among the mulit-colored flowers. He kicked his shoes off at the door, hung his red coat on the hook alongside his ribbon, and set his black leather gloves on the kitchen table as he walked by. He walked down the long, narrow hall, shrugging out of his vest and shirt on the floor as he walked. He paused to take his socks off before starting against. He undone his belt and his pants instantly fell below his rear. Unbuttoning and unzipping them caused them to fall all the way down. He stepped out of them, leaving him in his lacy black and red panties. He stripped them off and left them in front of the bathroom door.

Grell turned on the light and closed the door. He leaned against the cool, wooden sink, shivering lightly. He sighed and took a black bobby pin and pinned his bangs out of his face. He reached under the sink for a few candles. He opened the medicine cabinet and got out a lighter. He lit the candles, inhaling the scent it gave off. He started himself a bath, adding a little bit of rose scented bubble bath. Right now, all he wanted to do was relax, and he hoped his bath would allow him to do just that. While he waited for the tub to fill, he unwrapped his shoulder to reveal a raised pink scar.

"Well, at least it's healed," Grell muttered, rolling his shoulder, wincing.

He turned the water off and stepped in. He slowly lowered himself into the warm water and sunk to his neck. He closed his eyes and sank completely under the water, thinking.