Chapter 3:

William stood silent and alone in the doorway of his own office just as he did ever morning before his subordinates arrived, but his eyes were locked on Grell's desk. It was no longer empty as other employees had started piling things on top as if it were nothing more than a place to store junk. It bothered him to see Grell's desk treated so disrespectfully, and he was tempted to remove the stray items, but he supposed it was no more disrespectful than the redhead was typically treated.

The oddest thing about the whole situation was that William actually missed Grell. While he had never truly entertained the idea of transferring Grell, he also never imagined that he might miss his presence. When Grell had been absent a few days on a recent assignment, William had breathed a sigh of relief at the relative peace that pervaded the office. There was no more distractions of Grell finding some reason to come inside his office or generally causing trouble. His world was routine and orderly, which were two things he very much appreciated.

What he hadn't realized was that this momentary peace had also held the promise of Grell's return. For better or worse, Grell had become part of his routine. The redhead's distractions and the ensuing chaos, had become a part of his order, and William actually found himself missing it. Each time he heard the clack of high heels, he would look up and expect to see Grell standing there in his non-regulation attire and shark-like smile, but it only led to disappointment. Grell simply wasn't there. He had been gone for several months now, and William couldn't dispel the notion that Grell would never return.

A ripple of laughter echoing down the hall signaled that the other workers were starting to file in, so William stepped back to watch. He stood there every morning, so he had no intention of changing his routine, but he didn't want them to see him staring at an empty desk like a sentimental fool instead of an efficient supervisor.

This had become part of the routine as well.

When everyone had taken their seats, he silently nodded towards the workers as he heard a groan of disapproval. An outbreak of measles would keep most of them away from the desk today and practically guaranteed none of them would be leaving the office on time this evening. Ignoring their quiet complaints, he stepped inside of his office fully and shut the door. Paperwork was waiting for him as usual. As he sat as his desk, however, he paused for just a moment as he stared down a desk drawer.

No doubt he would be leaving late tonight, but there was still something he needed to do this evening.

((x))

William walked down the street as the fake sun that illuminated this realm slowly slid off to the west. It was quiet, and he could hear the sound of his loafers clicking rhythmically, almost explosively in the stillness. He knew that his mind was simply exaggerating the noise because he was worried that he might be seen walking towards an apartment that was not his own. He worked so hard to keep his record and reputation clean, and he didn't want there to be any rumors. As he walked, however, he could hear the soft jangle of the key in his pocket. It was a master key to all of the reapers' apartments, although he hadn't saw any reason to take it from its usual place in his desk drawer for a long time. He wasn't even completely sure of his reasoning this time as he stopped in front of Grell's apartment.

It was the very last building on the street as if his very residence was to be removed and distant from everyone, although, for the most part, it looked almost like all the other apartments. The only difference was the red roses growing along the side of the steps that added just a dash of color to the otherwise common appearance. It was much like the color that Grell himself added to the office, but William didn't want to dwell on such matters as he quickly climbed the steps and inserted the key in the lock. Still slightly worried someone might see him, he stepped inside, shutting and locking the door behind him, before he dared to turn on the lights.

All of the apartments were essentially the same on the inside, but even inside the foyer it was obvious that this residence had been Grell's alone. William had only stepped inside one other time when Grell had offered up the weak pretense of something that needed his attention, and he had not been paying attention to the décor since had been desperately seeking an escape, but now he had to admit that Grell has his own unique flare.

The apartment was neater that William would have guessed given the usual state of Grell's desk, but there were hints of disorder in the pile of mail upon the hallway table and drawers that were obviously overstuffed. Although Grell's signature color was definitely prominent, it didn't dominate every surface as William might have feared. In fact, Grell had seemed to pair his precious red tones with deep browns and other earth tones that highlighted the color and really tied the rooms together. Grell actually seemed to have a natural talent for decorating.

The kitchen was clean and had a design of apples that seemed rather appropriate. There was a slight odor emanating from a fruit dish where some oranges had undoubtedly gone bad. William made a mental note to throw out any food that had spoiled during Grell's absence. He could at least do that much for the redhead.

The final room he entered was the bedroom. The bedspread was unsurprisingly as deep red as Grell's hair, but it was neatly made. A nearby closet was full to the point of nearly bursting, and William opened the doors. It was filled with dresses that he had never seen Grell wear before, although he had to reluctantly admit he rarely saw Grell in anything other than his work attire. Hanging in front of the closet was something that William had seen far too much of – his beloved red coat. In all honesty, he hated the coat because it was a reminder of Grell's past deeds and that part of Grell that William couldn't even begin to understand. He had killed that woman who wore this coat, yet he had stitched it together lovingly despite the clumsy stitches. During his suspension, Grell had admitted he regretted killing the woman although he never expressed any remorse over the prostitutes he had helped to murder. It was an oddity since the so-called Madame Red was actually on the to-die list while some of the other women were not.

He closed the closet as best he could when he happened to notice a cardboard box on the floor that held Grell's belongings from his desk. Lying on top was Grell's nameplate, and he picked it up to run his fingers over the letters, which had begun to peel slightly. He would have to order a new one soon.

A soft noise echoed through the house, and William dropped the nameplate into the box quickly as he swiftly left the bedroom – recognizing the noise as the front door being opened and shut. He half hoped that it was Grell returning home, but he feared it was more likely someone else that would find him in the redhead's bedroom without any explanation. Returning to the living room, he was surprised to see Ronald entering from the hallway.

"Mr. Spears, sir," the young reaper gasped, "What are you doing here?"

That was a good question since William had no idea himself what possessed him to enter Grell's home, but he was not going to admit such a thing to Ronald. "I believe the better question is why you are here, and how did you get in? I believe I locked the door."

Ronald smiled sheepishly as he held up a key. "Senior Sutcliff gave me a copy of the key," he explained.

William frowned slightly. "I came here to straighten up his quarters," he said, which wasn't complete lie, "Some of his food has gone bad, and I thought it would be disrespectful for him to return home to a foul smell."

"Is he coming home soon?" Ronald asked. A hopeful light shimmered in his duel irises as he spoke, and William almost hated to disappoint him.

"I have no idea," William replied, adjusting his glasses, "You never answered my question, Knox. Why are you here?"

Ronald shrugged slightly. "I guess I was just sorta missing him, you know," he clumsily explained, "and his apartment still feels like…him somehow." He walked over and sat down on a plush sofa. Despite the fact he was sitting, his posture was still strained as if he fears William was going to force him to leave.

"I suppose," William relented, "If I may ask, why did Sutcliff give you a key?"

"Uh, it's a long story," Ronald said, looking down at his hands.

"You'd rather not say?"

There was a quick nod. "I don't think I should tell you," Ronald admitted, "You see, it was a long time ago, but I don't want to get into trouble."

Although he wouldn't have said so aloud, William was undeniably curious. "If it happened so long ago, I don't see how you could still be punished for the incident, no matter what it was." His words sounded hollow in his own ears considering what had happened to Grell, but he was hoping to convince Ronald to say whatever it was on his mind.

"Do you promise?" Ronald asked in a quiet tone.

"Yes."

Ronald grabbed a red pillow off of the couch and hugged it slightly. "When I was out on one of my early assignments," he began, "I…I had a breakdown."

William barely suppressed a gasp. Breakdowns were sadly common among new reapers. Something about a particular reap would remind them of their own lives or even their own suicide, and they would be unable to function. Such events were supposed to be reported immediately since it was a sign someone was unsuited for field work, and the agent in question was often transferred – or even met that unsaid fate of reapers who unfit for any work that would led to a chance at redemption. "I never knew that," he stated.

"Senior Sutcliff didn't tell anyone," Ronald continued, "He finished the reap without saying a word to me. I was a mess that night and, when he brought me back to this realm, I thought he was going to report me right away. Upper Management had already said they thought I wasn't going to be a good agent, so I thought it was all over for me. He practically had to carry me down the street, but instead of taking me to the office to file a report, he brought me here."

((x))

Ronald was still crying; the tears streaming down his face so that he couldn't see where he was going, and he sure he was stumbling far more than he walking. His arm was currently draped about Grell's shoulders, and he was leaning heavily on the red reaper. So far, Grell hadn't said a word, not even to complain, and Ronald was actually thankful for the quiet. While he was sure that he was going to be transferred very soon, at least Grell wasn't reminding him of his failure. Still blinded by tears, he felt himself being carried up a set of small steps. It seems they had reached their destination sooner that Ronald realized. "I'm so sorry," he began to mumble as a door was opened and he felt himself being led inside of a building.

While he was still doing his best to apologize, he felt himself being let down gently on a soft couch, and Grell stepped away. Ronald laid his head in his hands as he waited for the inevitable. Time passed slowly.

"Do you want a piece of chocolate?" Grell asked.

Slowly, Ronald raised his head and looked up at Grell, although he wasn't prepared for what he would see. In all of his time of knowing the redhead, he had never seen Grell without his typical makeup and work clothes. Grell's face had been freshly scrubbed, and Ronald could see the faint freckles across the bridge of his nose. The false eyelashes had been removed, and his hair had been piled on top of his head in a sloppy pony tail. His normal attire was replaced with red and pink silk pajamas, and he was holding a box of chocolates in his hand.

"Th…Thanks," Ronald managed as he took a piece of the chocolate. He looked at the candy for several minutes without putting in his mouth. "Why are we here?" he managed to ask, "I thought you'd take me back to the office and report what happened."

"I have quite a weakness for chocolate," Grell said as he took a piece and examined it, "I can't eat too much of it. Have to watch my figure after all, but I can't resist a piece every now and again."

"Senior Sutcliff!" Ronald cried, "Aren't you going to say anything about what happened?"

Grell looked at him quizzically. "Do you want me to?"

"I just thought," Ronald began helplessly, "I mean, aren't you going to report me?"

There was an odd smile from Grell as he popped a piece of chocolate in his mouth. "So," he said, "I heard you're dating a girl from accounting?"

"Her, along with others," Ronald answered, finally relaxing slightly. He was beginning to realize that despite talk of Grell's instability, the redhead wasn't going to report him. The night slowly passed, and they talked about everything except the unfortunate incident.

((x))

"Sutcliff never told me," William confirmed.

Ronald smiled sadly. "I realized later how much he trusted me and how much he did for me," he said, "He completely dropped the mask, and he could have faced a reprimand for not turning me in. After we talked that night, he gave me a key to this apartment and said that anytime I needed to talk or just a place to crash, I could come here." He sighed loudly as he turned to look at William. "Do you think he'll be back soon?" he asked.

"Probably," William answered, "That's why I wanted to clean out his kitchen and throw out all of the spoiled food."

"I'll help," Ronald offered as he stood up.

Together they walked into the kitchen, but William realized he had learned more about Grell in the short time he had listened to Ronald then he had in all the time he had spent around the redhead. He would have described Grell as volatile and unpredictable, but he had never stopped to consider that Grell could be warm and kind. In fact, he was even a little envious of Ronald for Grell had chosen to show his true self to the younger reaper, which was something William hadn't seen since they had graduated the academy.

As they cleaned the kitchen, William had wished that he had stopped this from every happening. Despite Grell's record, William wished that he could have remained strong and not given the evaluators any names. If he had only done that, Grell would still be with them now.

He only hoped that Grell would be back soon so that he could apologize for his own weakness.