A/N Thanks to all the folks who read as well as those who reviewed! I may not have written this next chaper had it not been for the kind requests that I continue this story. I'm happy with where it's going and there will be a chapter 3!
Grell collapsed into a heap on his bed. He didn't feel anything and he chuckled at that. How strange to feel nothing at all. He had worked hard to get this numbness: he told himself nothing mattered, not himself, not Sebastian, not William. Why was he even concerned with love? He should simply do his job as a shinigami and nothing else. He sighed and rolled over, raking a hand through his hair. His fingers snagged in tangles but he just ripped them straight through, wincing slightly.
"Hmm, I guess I need to brush my hair." He frowned but then immediately shoved his cheeks up. "I need to stop frowning-" he pushed a finger between his eyes "-and furrowing my brows. I'm going to have horrible wrinkles."
The redhead chuckled again, realizing he didn't care if he had wrinkles, if he was the ugliest person in the world. There was only one person who gave a damn if he lived or died.
As soon as he had left the Phantomhive grounds, he had immediately journeyed to the realm of the shinigami. It was late, so he hoped everyone would be in bed. He walked the well lit streets (which had been engineered to be aesthetically pleasing) looking for somewhere dark and private. The whole place was supposed to be perfect; a comfortable yet unobtrusive place where all the shinigami could be content: Grell preferred the dingy streets of London.
At last he collapsed next to a street lamp, unable to contain his emotions any longer. He pulled his legs to his chest and cried, rocking himself softly and digging his fingers into his thighs. How could Sebastian do such a thing? Grell had been beside himself with joy as soon as he realized the butler's true intentions; he wasn't going to hurt him, he was finally going to give him what he wanted. Oh! He would have done anything to please Sebastian and he would finally get the chance. Sebastian's touch was like cold fire pulsing through him and those eyes, so full of sensual desire, caused his breath to hitch even now. How could Sebas-chan forget it all so fast and go back to his demonic ways? One moment he was telling Grell how beautiful he was and the next he was attacking and…raping him. It was rape, wasn't it? He was so betrayed, so dirtied and utterly deceived.
"Hey? Is that you, Mr. Sutcliff?" Ronald Knox approached from around the corner, quite inebriated.
Grell immediately shoved himself to his feet at the sight of his partner and did his best to dry his eyes. "Knox, what are you doing out so late," he asked, even though he knew.
"I was just at a party…hey…You aren't wearing a shirt!" The young man announced it as though he wanted a prize for the obvious observation. "Where have yooou been?" He poked his elder in the chest suggestively. Thankfully he was too drunk to notice the redhead's running mascara.
"Don't worry about it, Ronald. You should be go home." When his subordinate made no attempt to move, Grell grabbed his arm and hauled him down the street to his flat.
"You know, Mr. Sutcliff…you're a really nice guy. A really nice…ha! Lady. You know, Mr. Spears should give ya a chance. You're probably the prettiest lady he could get!"
Grell smiled at Ronald's drunken wisdom, not sure if it was altogether a compliment. "Maybe you're right," he whispered. "Alright, here's your door." Grell reached unabashedly into his subordinate's front pocket, tugging out the keys.
Ronald stumbled inside, tripping over the threshold, and Grell lovingly dragged him up the narrow staircase to his bedroom. "You've got it from here, haven't you? Don't fall down the stairs, Love"
When Grell released Ronald from his arms, he promptly turned around and gave him a nuzzly hug. "Thank you Mr. Sutcliff for bringing me home." Then the young man pressed a kiss to Grell's cheek. He frowned and hugged Ronald back, resting his head on his shoulder and hugging him tighter.
Suddenly, Ronald seemed to realize what was happening and tensed. "Hey, um, Mr. Sutcliff….This is kinda queer so…"
Grell giggled and pulled back. "Have a good evening. Get some sleep for goodness sake, you have a job to do tomorrow."
Alone in his bed, Grell stripped off his coat and bundled up under his bed covers. Ronald Knox was the only one who cared and of course Grell didn't love him like that. Sinking back into the depression he had tried so hard to repress, he thought again of Sebastian and those red eyes which had been so powerful, yet gentle. "No, stop crying for goodness sake. I thought I was done." He pressed his fingers against his eyes, trying to staunch the flow, but it was no use; the tears poured down his cheeks and no matter how much he told himself it didn't matter, it did.
The next morning, when the manufactured sunlight streamed in through red lacy curtains, Grell couldn't summon the courage to rise from bed. He didn't think he had slept much, his throat was sore, and his eyes ached. Even the heavily filtered sunlight was too much. Why couldn't the world just stay dark? He curled into a tighter ball hoping to get so small he would no longer exist. His thoughts were swimming in murky blackness between Sebastian, William, and his own insufficiencies.
There was a knocking and Grell thought for a moment that his headache was just getting worse, but then the sound continued and he realized it was coming from downstairs. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and slipped out of bed in a daze. Why would anyone knock on his door? Who would care enough to knock? He wasn't supposed to be at work, he had been "suspended indefinitely." He would probably never be reinstated. They had probably all realized he was useless. He opened the door, wincing at the sudden explosion of light.
William stood there, arms folded impatiently and Grell almost fainted in shock. He tried so hard to conjure up his usual jovial energy, but nothing came. "Mr. Spears," he said instead, feeling sheepish.
"Mr. Sutcliff," William said, seemingly pleased and a little amused by the address. "Have I awakened you? You look a mess."
Grell immediately remembered his current state of disarray: he was topless, his hair was a tangled mess, and his mascara had likely run down over his cheeks. And there was William, handsome Will, looking completely put together. Yesterday's events had caused him no grief whatsoever. It didn't bother him at all to break a friend's heart and sack him all in one day. Grell sputtered out some excuse for his appearance, but Will cut him off.
"Ronald told me he saw you crying in an alley last night, is that so?" The supervisor straightened his glasses, seeming not to care much either way.
Grell was mortified. He had thought his partner was too drunk to notice anything, much less remember it! "I most certainly was…not crying last night."
"Yes, and obviously you've suffered no shock of any kind." He cleared his throat and gave Grell an appraising look. "I have come to awaken you before and found you dressed like a woman from a bordello: this is quite a contrast. Additionally, your mascara clearly indicates you've been crying and, that surprisingly, you didn't wash your face." His eyebrows knit in what might have been a look of concern. Grell wasn't convinced.
"I'm fine. I don't know why you've come here to check up on me; I'm not even considered worthy of employ any more. Good day, Mr. Spears."
"You have never called me 'Mr. Spears.' To what do I owe this formality?"
Grell suddenly felt fire burning inside him. This man had no right to come to his home and question him after what he had done. "William," he hissed, "please go away. I never thought I would say this, but… I don't ever want to see you again."
He looked perplexed at the redhead's statement, but wasn't interested in inquiring further. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, hiding his eyes behind the glare, and gave a quick bow before departing.
As soon as his love was out of sight, Grell hammered his fists into the door frame. Yelping in pain after a few good punches, he collapsed to his knees and started to cry. "No, I can't be like this again." He grabbed the door and pulled himself back up to his feet. "I can't…" What was there for him anymore? The chance of his being welcomed back into the dispatch was slim and even if he was, what was the point. "Sebas-chan," he whispered fervently, "it'll be you or me. Good thing I stole that spare key from Will last week."
It wasn't until he'd arrived at Phantomhive Manor, wielding his stolen death scythe, that Grell realized a serious flaw in his plan. What if Sebastian wasn't there? That snot-nosed kid was always dragging him around on one pointless adventure or another. He supposed he would just have to wait and try to avoid those persnickety servants. He would hate to have to kill one of them: they're so cute. From his vantage point behind the rose bush he couldn't see anyone, so perhaps it was safe to move on. He ran up the pathway to the garden and pressed his back against a stone porch column.
Getting out and about made him feel better already. Reconnaissance was always so much fun. In fact, he thought wistfully, it was one time they were staked out together that they bonded the most. He shook his head; he couldn't let those boys cloud his thoughts: he had to keep his mind on the plan.
Out of nowhere popped up that ditzy blond gardener. Finny was tending to the rosebushes, making Grell thankful he had hurried along when he did. He held his breath, certain, as the boy came around the corner, that he would be spotted. But Finny simply continued on his way out of sight. Grell slumped over in relief and looked up at the house.
"Now which window should I pick?" An evil smile crept across his face as his eyes found the room he knew belonged to the little earl. With one leap he was on the sill and then used his scythe to shatter the window.
The falling glass nicked his face and the hot blood ran down his neck. The shinigami relished the look of shock on the Ciel's face as the child ran from the window. Any moment now he would call Sebastian and then the battle would commence.
The earl looked at Grell like he was a rather large ugly cockroach. "You! What do you want and why would you break my window?"
Grell lunged at him revving up the death scythe's motor. "Call that butler of yours, won't you? I'm sure you're very afraid."
"Not really. You're kind of a cockup, actually," the boy drawled.
"This is not the time to mess with me, kid." Grell lunged at Ciel half hoping he would be able to kill the boy before Sebastian even knew it.
At the last moment, however, Sebastian appeared before his young master and sandwiched the blade between his hands. The rotating teeth ripped into the demon's gloves, but he managed to keep his skin out of harm. Grell withdrew and smiled evilly. "There you are! It took you long enough. I'm sure your little charge was sweating."
"Not really."
"Shut up," Grell spat. "Sebas-chan," he said in a frightening perversion of his usual tone, "I've come to collect recompense for your sins, demon. Should I tell your innocent little boy what you did to me? I'm sure he wouldn't find it surprising: you probably do it to him every night."
At that Sebastian lunged at the shinigami, but Grell was ready and slashed savagely toward the butler's neck. He ducked away and said, "How dare you say such a thing in front of the young master. Furthermore," he said with meaning, "I don't know what you are talking about."
"So you didn't tell him, how interesting." Grell looked to the boy, seriously considering telling the whole tale now.
"Grell, let us take this fight away from the young master. I don't want him to come to harm."
"Very well," Grell said, and whipped the blade toward Ciel, cutting his hand. With that, he jumped out the window and landed lightly on the damp lawn.
He immediately prepared himself for a good fight; there was no way Sebastian would let him get away with wounding his precious master. As expected, the butler followed him almost instantly, eyes blazing an intense red. The same shade of red as last night. Grell shook his head; he needed a clear mind.
Sebastian ran at him brandishing a sword Grell remembered from a wall in the earl's office. He easily parried the attack and came at the demon with a downward chop. Sebastian fought viciously, seeming to have no remorse for what happened last night. There was not a trace of guilt on his porcelain face. That white face would be stained red by the end of this. Grell swept the scythe upward, aiming to cut Sebastian directly in half, but he leapt backward and onto the veranda railing.
"What are you trying to accomplish, Grell? You know you will lose if this continues."
"I will not lose. For once I won't be letting you win." He charged forward, wielding his scythe like a broadsword. He jumped onto the railing and slashed madly. Sebastian followed suit, ducking the scythe and striking with his blade. Grell felt the sharp pang of a wound on his arm and stumbled back, almost falling off the narrow stone. Finally the chainsaw crashed into the sword, shattering it instantly and spraying them both with slivers of metal.
As his swing continued, Grell felt that satisfying thud which meant he had struck flesh and bone. Sebastian fell awkwardly onto the flagstones, blood gushing from the deep wound on his belly. The shinigami hopped down and stood straddling the demon's hips. "Now, Sebas-chan," he whispered, relishing the agony on his victim's face as he squirmed. It was oddly similar to the state he had been in last night: moaning and begging for release, for some kind of comfort. He would give Sebastian the same mercy he had received from him: "Die," he said.
"No!" It was a child's voice from behind him, but before Grell could turn around he felt a ripping pain and looked down to see a blade sticking out just below his ribcage.
He screamed in fury, whirling around to see little Earl Phantomhive standing there, paralyzed by the state of his butler. The redhead smiled, slightly happy to see he could cause the boy such distress. He reeled badly then toppled to the stones, sword still jammed through his body. Coughing raggedly, he reached back and fumbled with the hilt: too slick to grab…so much blood. There was Sebastian, his master leaned over him trying to staunch the flow of red. The sun must be setting, painting all in a flushed hue that slowly faded into blackness.
It wasn't until he woke that Grell realized he had lost consciousness. It was only momentary, for when he sat up, desperately clutching the wound, the other two were still there: the boy hovering over Sebastian while the remains of his death record fluttered over his head. Damn, Grell thought, I missed it! His desire to kill the demon unabated, he rose up in a trance-like state and jerked the sword out of his back. Sebastian saw the move and his eyes locked on Grell. Ciel turned around in time to watch the sword clatter to the stones. "Such a troublesome little boy. Perhaps I should kill him first and harvest his soul? Would you like that Sebas-chan?"
"Why," the butler croaked, struggling to his feet. "Why are you doing this? If you harm my young master, I will kill you without hesitation."
Grell couldn't help but chuckle manically. "It doesn't look like you'll be able to, Sebas-chan." He revved up his chain saw and charged.
The boy didn't move: he knew his butler would save him, and so did Grell. In a desperate and pained lunge, Sebastian put himself between the scythe and his master, pleadingly looking into the shinigami's eyes. Grell brought back the saw for the deadly strike, but couldn't tear his eyes away from Sebastian's. He didn't look frightened: he was resigned to withstand any pain to protect that useless little boy. His flawless face was marred with a grimace of purpose and his eyes were wide with anticipation.
Grell couldn't do it. He dropped his death scythe to the flagstones and the blade skittering in a harmless circle. He leaned close to the demon's face and spat, "I hate you! I hate you with all my heart."
The demon's mind seemed to finally catch up to what was going on. He stood up fully, though blood still oozed from his gaping wound, and grabbed Grell's face. "All of this because of last night?" His voice, usually deep and lulling, rose to a screech. "You intend to kill me because of last night? To kill my master?" He grabbed him by the coat and met his eyes with demonic fury.
Grell returned the gaze with equal animosity. "You cannot, you will not get away with this. I'll have you know I am not a lady who will passively accept abuse. I am not someone who can be tossed away and forgotten. I will not, I positively will not, let you treat me as you have done without being punished. I didn't get this far in life by allowing people to get away with things." A small measure of his ostentatious nature broke though. "I thought you were a gentleman."
The look on Sebastian's face was not one of remorse, but of incomprehension. The Earl came up beside him and grabbed his arm. "Sebastian, stop fooling around. We need to go inside." He turned his large blue eye to Grell. "Leave now or I will give an unretractable order for your removal."
"If I may, my lord." Sebastian began. "I would like to stay outside and have a brief discussion with Mr. Sutcliff."
The impatient boy scoffed and glared at the shinigami as he turned to make his way inside. "Please don't get yourself into any more mischief, Sebastian. It would be tiresome to save you again." With that, he retreated to the house without a backward glance.
Grell leaned heavily on the stone railing. "What do you have to say for yourself, Sebastian."
"You came here and attacked me," the butler said politely. "Perhaps it is you who should explain." He advanced on the redhead in a manner which he probably thought was unthreatening. "I don't think you are justified for what you've done here tonight."
The shinigami stood bravely, ignoring the pain in his belly, and faced his opponent. "I thought you might apologize so I was going to be nice, I guess not." He revved his scythe once more, hoping to coax some cooperation out of the demon. "You don't understand it do you. Ha! How could you?"
Sebastian looked genuinely confused. "What am I to understand? We fought last night and I won. I even gave you what you wanted so why should you be so distraught?"
"Do you honestly not know?" Grell let the saw fall to his side. He felt the tears welling up inside him once more, but fought them down. Was it possible that this demon hurt him so much without even knowing it? Was it just a fight? His emotions had just gotten in the way.
William's words forced their way into his mind. "Sutcliff, you cannot let your emotions take control. I've seen you do incredible things when you put your mind to it. Those wild passions simply distract you."
"Don't do something you'll regret," Sebastian soothed.
Grell dropped his deathscythe and strode toward the butler; his passions weren't always wrong. "What happened last night. Why don't you tell me. It wasn't just a fight. You felt something." He had said it. Fear enveloped him as he waited for what Sebastian would say. This was the thing that has torn him up so badly; had it just been a fight he could have coped, but this demon had shown love and then hate. "You felt something." He had to state again, had to make it true because if it wasn't, he had been torn apart over nothing.
Sebastian looked as unflappable as usual but Grell could tell he was thinking. He stood there for a long moment, face barely visible in the setting sun, eyes hidden behind his curtain of mussed hair. He had to smile at Sebastian's ability to look completely put together even when his attire was shredded and covered in blood.
Finally the red and black butler spoke. "Grell…I cannot articulate what I felt last night. I spoke to the young master about it, not mentioning you, of course, and even he was not able to give me any advice."
"Has he even hit puberty yet?" Though the redhead joked, he knew it was serious business: Sebastian asked for advice.
The butler glared adorably. "What I felt was not something I should have. Perhaps I need to remind you that we are enemies."
Sebastian felt something, oh, and he looked so cute, Grell could barely contain himself. "If that is the problem, worry not, for I am no longer employed as a shinigami, remember? Plus, you shouldn't ask a boy for advice that you should get from a lady."
"You realize the proper way to finish that sentence is with 'man', right?" The butler quipped.
"Depends on which way you choose to play." Grell sidled up to Sebastian, but was careful to keep a bit of distance. He had the demon right where he wanted him; the smallest mistake would push him away again. It was possible things would be ok.
"Sutcliff, last night was…." He was trying to distance himself, deny what he already knew, and Grell would see to it that it wouldn't work.
In one fluid motion, Grell took Sebastian's hands and kissed him tenderly. For the barest of seconds he felt those sumptuous lips move in tandem with his own. The butler pulled away, but not with force. "Grell, please don't do this. I need to go. Will you let there be a peace between us?"
"Maybe," he cooed.
"I…I apologize. It…shouldn't have been the way it was last night. I shouldn't have let it come to what it did." Sebastian began to walk back to the house. "Never return here," he looked back, "unless you intend to be peaceful."
Grell's heart fluttered and his breath caught. Surely the demon was not insinuating what he thought he was? He couldn't help but admire that man's slim back and broad shoulders, that smooth, faultless stride. When Sebastian had disappeared inside, he turned to face the expansive back garden with a heaving sigh.
There was just the barest trace of sun left and it cast the deepest shadows all about him. "Peaceful," he whispered. The trees rustled with the first taste of autumn breeze as a few leaves twirled down to the bloody flagstones. Somewhere in the forest beyond he heard the plaintiff cry of a nightingale, and he smiled.