No. It wasn't going to be this way. He wasn't going to be separated from his lover. William was so caught up in this small fact that he skipped his coffee and walked straight to the airport. It was only seven-thirty. The plane he was going to hitch a ride on left at eight thirty. He took his time walking to the airport. He would arrive at exactly eight twenty-five, giving him time to calm himself, giving him time to blend in with the surrounding group. He ran his fingers through his wet, messy hair. He kept it in his eyes.

As planned, he got to the airport at exactly eight twenty-five. He put his patience and his poor social skills to the test as he talked to some of the passengers. They all failed to notice his odd colored eyes, no matter how long they looked him in the eye. When it was time to board the plane, he easily slipped into the plane. He sat with two of the people he was talking to before. He leaned back and listened to the chatter of the men beside him. He wasn't really listening, thinking of how he would stake the demon and cut his heart out, allowing Grell to turn the body into a mangled mess.

(T.T)

Grell shivered, pulling his pale legs to his shredded chest, tears streaming down his blood smeared face like a river. His tears dripped pink onto his sore, throbbing chest. They stung him whenever they slid over his cuts. He leaned forward so his back wasn't touching the cool, leather seats. It wasn't because the seats were too cold of his scarred, pale back- it actually felt good against his clammy skin, but it hurt immensely when he tried to move.

"Red delicious, Scarlet?" Mr. Jace asked, holding up a shiny red apple.

"No, I hate red apples," Grell said.

Mr. Jace held up a green apple. "Granny smith?"

Grell held his hand out and the apple was placed in his hand. "Thank you," he muttered, starting to nibble on the apple.

For the first time in four hours Grell looked out the window of the speeding car. They were half way through San Francisco, heading north. The view was spectacular, but Grell didn't care out the view. He just wanted to get away from this damned demon that held him captive. He wasn't too happy with his privileges, but he was happy that one was his cell phone. He wasn't allowed to call anyone. He wasn't allowed to text his friends. He wasn't allowed to eat unless he behaved and played slave in bed. He was feed accordingly to his performance.

He sighed and took a large bite off the apple, brushing pieces of long, red hair out of his face. He watched San Francisco go by for what seemed like a minute.

"Where are going?" Grell asked after finishing the apple. He let down the window and threw out the core, shivering as the cold breeze licked his skin.

Mr. Jace looked at Grell and smiled. "A place were magic happens."

"…" Grell didn't like that sound of that.

(T.T)

Police were everywhere, blood was everywhere, and cinematic records were. There were reapers disguised as police men collecting the many souls of the dead. William's jaw clenched. He had a feeling he knew who did this. He approached a small group of reapers surrounding a body.

"Excuse me," he said. "Do you mind if I have a look?" He summoned his scythe just in case they took his question as a threat

The reapers turned their green and gold eyes to William, looking at his scythe. They made a place for William, his frame fitting perfectly in between. He glanced over the body.

"Murder weapon was a-"

"Chainsaw death scythe. Modified. The owner was obviously fighting something supernatural and from the smell of this place it was a demon. The owner was red head," he picked up a long piece of red hair from the body, "and from the way this injury was made, it was a right handed male."

"And you got that from one glance?" he was asked.

"Yes and no. I already knew what and who it was as soon as I got off the plane." He adjusted his glasses. "Now to just figure out where they are now…" he murmured to himself.

"You mean you can figure all that info out with just a glance, but you can't figure out which way this reaper you claim to know went?"

William's eyes hardened as he stared down the American reaper. The American reaper visibly shrunk under his glare. His years of experience began to show.

"I am only a supervisor of an understaffed division. Not a miracle worker. Understand?"

The reaper nodded. "Now who is this reaper responsible for this damage, sir?"

"Grell Sutcliff."

Another came up beside him. "Oh, I've heard of him!" he exclaimed. "He gives the higher ups in London hell!"

"Understatement," William muttered, leaving the scene. He sent his scythe home, sighing.

There was a thin line of blood that left the airport. He followed it to a manhole in the middle of an uncrowded street. The blood just stopped. William sighed and removed the cover. He slipped inside, landing almost silently in the sewer water. There was an awful stench, but not sewer stench, but like something died. He followed the odor to a small child lying dead. In the child's hand was a letter marked with his name. He tore it open and read it.

Dear William,

Did you like the present I left for you? It wasn't planned, but little Scarlet decided to fight back. I had to punish her accordingly. In case you're wondering, we're heading to Washington to this great little place where Scarlet shall be fed, depending on how she plays slave in bed.

Oh, speaking of bed, she's amazing, the way she rolls her hips and everything. She's always so tight too. Almost as if you two never had sex.

William balled the letter up and shoved it in his pocket. He didn't want to finish it. His anger climbing higher, he strode back to the opening he came through. He jumped up, grabbing hold of the edge and hauling himself up. He hated this. He hated Mr. Jace. He hated not knowing how the hell to get where he was going. He hated someone putting their hands on his Grell. He hated not know if Grell's okay or if he was injured. He swore to himself he would shred Mr. Jace to pieces when he saw him. He walked in the road, a million different emotions coursing through his body. He'd never felt so many emotions since he fell in love with Grell.

William looked up at the sky; it was getting dark. There was no telling what was in the dark there.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, catching the attention of a pretty blonde hurrying down the sidewalk. "Do you know where the closes hotel is? I'm new here."

"Yeah, keep going straight for three miles and make a left. It'll be on your right," she said, pointed in the direction he was walking. "I must hurry. Bye, sir!" She dashed off.

As much as William hated it, he had to check in for the night. He followed the woman's direction and ended up in front of a decent, cheap hotel. Inside the hotel, the walls were panted a bright red trimmed with gold boarding; part of the lobby had thick, cream carpet, a red sofa and chair placed around a glass table under a crystal chandelier. William's mood began to go downhill as the red walls and furniture reminded him of his captured Grell. Where ever Grell was now, he hoped that he was okay.