A/N: Okay, I know I said I had a lot to give, and then I pretty much disappeared for a couple of weeks. that is because exams were HELL! and then preparing to graduate, and, well, the point is it's over now, so I should be able to do more.
I actually have most of the story written out, it just needs, you know, an ending. and I have to fix one of the chapters...but here is something to keep you satisfied until then! Read. love. Review. all that good stuff.
"He hates me." Ronald told Eric and Alan at the tavern that night. He had finally managed to fill the reports to the "bare minimum of satisfaction." He had come to drown his sorrows in alcohol, and thankfully caught Alan and Eric before they left. It was still very late, though, and the bartender kept eyeing them as if he was telling them to leave. Right now, he had his head pressed against the bar, waiting for another beer.
"He doesn't hate you." Eric reassured him.
"If he did, he wouldn't have entrusted those reports to you." Alan said.
"He hates me," Ronald repeated, turning his head to the side, "You could see it in his eyes. He didn't even bother tutoring, he just kept telling me I failed."
"Did he actually say that?"
"Well, no, but he said my work was of 'horribly poor quality.'"
"It was just your first day, Ronald," Eric said, "It'll get better."
"Whatever." Ronald said, taking a huge swig of beer. "How was your day?"
There was a momentary pause as he was sure Eric and Alan were exchanging glances. "Pretty good." Eric said, "Alan here is making excellent progress."
"Oh, please." Alan said, glaring at his mentor. He then confided in Ronald, "He beat me to a bloody pulp."
"You recovered!" Eric said in his defense, "besides, like I said to Ronald, it's your first day, you'll improve."
Ronald looked up from his beer at Alan. For someone who could barely get the man's name out this morning he was being outright friendly. Then again, Ronald wasn't sure exactly how much alcohol Eric had given him, though Alan's bright red face might be an indicator.
"Yeah." Ronald said, encouragingly, "Eric even managed to get my practical test scores up. It's the other portions that have gotten me now."
"Well, I can help you, if you'd like." Alan said, "Study and stuff I mean."
Ronald was pretty sure studying would not help him in his case, but it's not as if he could say no. "Sure, that'd be great. If Mr. Spears ever lets me out at a decent hour."
"I can feel it Ronald." Eric said, grinning, "This is going to be the test. I just know you're going to pass this one.
"Keep dreaming, Slingby." Ronald said.
"Y-you don't think you're going to pass?" Alan asked, shocked.
"I dunno. I'm not really feeling Spear's style, he's too—too like all my other mentors. Doubt he'll make much of a dent in my academic success."
"Hey!" Eric said, "I'm not like Spears!"
"You're the exception," Ronald reassured Eric. Eric rolled his eyes and messed up Ronald's hair. "Anyway, I guess it doesn't matter too much. After 6 failed tests, a seventh isn't going to do much harm."
"C'mon, Ronald, you can at least try!" Eric said, raising an eyebrow at his former pupil.
"I ALWAYS try, Eric. I just don't, you know, succeed."
"Uh-huh. Always, huh? Then how come when I was your mentor I caught you drinking and partying instead of studying about 10 times?"
"It was not 10!" Ronald said, "And I told you, studying doesn't work for me."
"It's the only way I function." Alan said, "That's why I failed so badly on the practical."
"Well, different strokes, I guess." Ronald gulped down the rest of his beer. "Well, I guess I better go hit the sack. I've got the feeling Spears will want to work me to the bone tomorrow."
"All right, we better get going too. Hard day of work tomorrow!" He slapped Alan on the back as they all got up to leave. Ronald could only hope the next day would be better.
It wasn't. "Knox, please go over this so-called paperwork you did yesterday and highlight all of the errors you made. Feel free to use any references you feel necessary including Mr. Sutcliffe and myself."
This was ridiculous. He had no idea what he did wrong, except for the fact that it certainly wasn't right. "You need any help?" Grell asked after Ronald stared at the paper for over five minutes.
"I got it." Ronald said, finally lifting his pen and scratching out his own words.
Grell smirked in amusement and stood up. "I'll be in Will's office if you need me."
Ronald struggled over the paperwork for hours. More often than not he crossed out words for no reason other than to cross out words. Was this Spears' idea of tutoring? Because if it was, Ronald guessed he really would be taking a 7th remedial class.
He was surprised to find this idea really bothered him. He would never say this out loud, but he really did want to be a reaper, he just didn't care for the tests. This personal philosophy was what drove his former mentors insane. He knew it was lazy, but that was just his style.
Grell finally returned, and Ronald wondered if his smile was permanently plastered onto his face. "Will says you've done enough paperwork for today." Ronald blinked at him in surprise. It was only noon, and he couldn't believe that someone like Spears would let him out after only a half-day's work. "Instead," Grell continued, "You and I are going to work on the practical portion of the test!"
Ronald blinked again, but realizing Grell was waiting for him, stood up and followed him down to the training yard. "B-but Mr. Sutcliffe, I don't really need more practice on the Practical. I got a 'B' on my last final exam."
"Well, I got a triple A. So you'll have to do as well as me."
Ronald looked at him in surprise. He would never have expected Grell to get high ranks, he seemed to hate work almost as much as Ronald. "What do I have to do?" Ronald asked.
Grell gave him a sideways smile, "Quite simple, darling. You have to try and beat me." Ronald swallowed. The idea of trying to defeat a Triple A student was broaching on the impossible. "Stop worrying, darling. I'll go easy on you. At first." Ronald didn't know Grell well enough to tell if that was a joke or a threat.
Either way, Grell beat him until he was black and blue. "C'mon, Ronnie! Move your feet!"
Ronald found it difficult to move his feet considering he was thrown up against the wall. Slowly, he peeled himself off the brick and raised his scythe to face the red-head again. At the beginning of the training session, Ronald thought Grell was enjoying this too much. He now knew the man was an unashamed sadist.
"Grip the scythe tighter! C'mon, use your wrist! Stop using those big arm movements! Faster! Faster!"
Ronald had never really wondered what a combination of blood and brick tasted like. Well, now he knew.
Every time Grell threw him down, though, Ronald could at least get back up, even if he was a little worse for wear for it. He couldn't believe how strong Grell was, Ronald could at least hold his own a little against Eric. He had even managed to land a blow or two. But with Grell—nothing.
Spitting out blood and panting for breath he raised the stupid little scythe once more. It shook violently. However it took him a second to realize Grell was not looking at him, but off to the side. Taking advantage, he charged the red reaper. He was an inch away from him, when he was knocked to the side.
Ronald sat up, and took a moment to regain his breath. He looked up to see what Grell had been staring at. Off to the side of the training yard, Mr. Spears was staring at none other than Ronald Knox intently, a slight frown on his face.
Ronald was just starting to get up when Mr. Spears stepped forward. "That's enough training for today, Mr. Knox." Not needing any more incentive than that, Ronald fell back onto the floor, spread eagle, gasping for air. Grell picked up his scythe and hung both training scythe's back on the wall.
The red head then knelt next to Ronald's head. "You really weren't all that bad you know. I'm just extremely good." Ronald glared at him, unable to give an appropriate response. Grell gave a soft laugh and stood up.
Mr. Spears finally approached, and Grell tried quickly to put his hands around his boss's shoulders, but was easily deflected. Ronald wondered how fast Mr. Spears must be if he was capable of getting around Grell.
He looked down at the panting blonde with no sign of sympathy. "From now on," he said, "You will practice with Mr. Sutcliffe every afternoon, unless he has an assignment. Afterwards you will continue the paperwork for that day. Today, however, you are excused to go home and treat your injuries. I would recommend generous amounts of ice." Grell gave a small giggle.
They had already left before Ronald had regained enough energy to stand up. He first intended to return to the bar, wait for Eric and Alan to finish training, and drink his sorrows away again. However, as soon as he stepped out the doors, he decided he needed a nap first.
Returning to his dorm room, he decided he'd sleep for just a few minutes, and then go for a drink. Rubbing his sore muscles, he lay down on his bed.
He opened his eyes after what felt like a second later. However when he looked at the clock—"Shit I'm going to be late for work!"
