Disclaimer: I don't own Black Butler!

William paced back and forth in Grell's hospital room, muttering to himself. 'It's my fault,' he'd think, or 'why does he take me seriously the one time I don't want him to?' William then stopped pacing and looked at Grell. While trying trying to … harm himself, he had cut his hair into almost the same style they had when they started reaping.

William forced himself to look at the wounds. Even though they were healing, they still looked gruesome. 'I wonder why he would do this to himself in this life and also in his last' William wondered sadly.

*Flashback*
"Undertaker? What did Grell mean by 'maybe this time around it will work'?" William said, voice heavy with confusion and guilt.

"Well, as the self-proclaimed know-it-all of the dispatch, I thought you would know all the death's of your division," the Undertaker said, coldly yet sadly, as he moved a stray lock from Grell's face. "If you really must know, Grell died at age 15 in his human life as a result of his suicide. He couldn't take the abuse any longer. People said it was a murder, because of how he always seemed happy enough, always smiling," Undertaker explained softly, thinking of his oldest daughter, and his poor past.

"Surely Grell had a different human name, right?" William pressed.

"That's for Grell dear to tell, if she wants, and for you to find out. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to check on Allen and Shaiyne. Alois's butler called, saying that Allen has worried herself too much and her sickness has become more pronouced. Take care of my Grell or else, …or else," Undertaker added, leaving the room.
* End Flashback*

'Undertaker can be overprotective when he wants to be, not to mention scary,' William thought, shuddering. William gently caressed Grell's cheek, as if it was glass and would break at any moment.

'Grell, you probably can't hear me, and you probably dont want to, but I'm sorry for yelling, for hurting you. I'm sorry. This probably doesn't matter, but I love you, even if... when you wake up, I promise to put up with your flamboyancy," William swore, as he saw a slight movement in Grell's bed.

'Where am I?' Grell thought, as he found himself in a white emptiness. "You're in your... well, our head," a voice said. Grell turned and faced a longer haired, more flamboyant version of himself.
"I represent your memories for the time being. I'm actually leaving before you wake up. Take care of Will please, he's very special," the other Grell said, fading slowly. "Wait, don't leave," Grell whispered, as he was thrusted into consciousness.

William watched as Grell's eyes slowly opened. He almost shouted for joy, but his hopes were shattered by four little words.

"Um, who am I?" Grell asked timidly.