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"Will! William! Wake up! Please darling, please wake up!"

It was a familiar voice, the most familiar one in his afterlife and William turned blurry vision towards the outline of a brightly lit doorway where a mass of red seemed to be struggling to reach him. He thought of rising but found hands were holding him down to a hard surface and there were more blinding smudges of lights overhead being swung down into his eyes that made the white clad figures at his sides into looming silhouettes.

The pain in his gut was burning like a hot iron and an aching weakness spread through his veins so he couldn't raise his head. The scent of antiseptic was sharp and the taste of copper in his mouth from his own blood made him gag. All around there was the murmur of more indistinct voices, the sounds of feet shuffling and water running and metal instruments clanging lightly against a pan. Everything was becoming hazy and dark and though he fought it he was losing his grip on awareness.

Through the darkness Grell called to him again and the frantic tone to it, the raw fear, spiked through William making the world come back into too bright blurs and pain once more.

"You can't leave me! Will! Do you hear me! You can't leave me alone with forever! Red and death aren't enough and you dam well know it you bastard! "

His voice was rising for one last shriek before he was finally wrenched from Williams blurred vision and the white glare of the room.

"Don't you dare die!"

The last echoing call came to him and the darkness finally fell around him. He let it come gratefully. It was an escape from the pain and also an escape from a heavier feeling that came with the pitch of Grells voice. There was something there that he just couldn't face.

It wasn't teasing or insanity, it wasn't everyday whining complaints or the rare worried concern. There had been a kind of desperation there that he could never associate with his friend.

Grell was never afraid of anything. His natural boldness and devil may care attitude is what prompted others to believe in his insanity so readily. He was perfectly fine and even gleeful facing some of the worst situations a reaper had to deal with. Why was the thought of loosing William so frightening to the red head? He had other friends surely. Some William suspected were even closer than he and Grell had been back in their academy days. Ronald was certainly one of them, he'd seen them going out to the pub together right after work, sometimes even sneaking there while on duty. He couldn't believe that Grell would be left completely on his own if he were to die.

Alone in the darkness William thought he knew what the answer was. But his mind turned away from it, twisted back into other memories.

Grell perching on his desk and helping him fix the tension on the spring of his death scythe blades, Grell leaning over him from behind to steal his pen as he finished paperwork and the rose and spice scent of his hair making a silky curtain around them, Grell removing his black leather gloves and lazily inspecting the perfect red shine of his nails on the ends of long delicate fingers…

The darkness was suddenly no longer dark but filled with that same deep colour of freshly spilled blood. William found himself standing in it, the sticky liquid lapping at the edges of his well polished shoes. He inhaled the thick copper scent and the musk of decaying roses and found it oddly comforting in this close space where the air was fleshy and soft as velvet and the half moon light came from nowhere at all.

"Will?..."

Grells voice was weak, a bare whisper calling against the red night. It made William turn instantly and what he saw made his stomach drop and his heart thunder fast against his ribs. He tried to remain unaffected as he walked the few steps over to his friend. Reapers could take a lot of damage and still heal, and Grell was always more than a little dramatic.

His friend lay prone with his head back, long scarlet hair disappearing into the liquid that surrounded him. Grells waistcoat and shirt were soaked dark and his usual red coat was gone. There were deep slashes through his thin chest and across one side of his throat and down his left shoulder. His left thigh also had rather gruesome tears across it. But none of that really bothered William. He had seen worse sights in his time, he'd once even set a bone in Grells forearm for him that had been sticking right out of his skin while the other reaper had been chattering on about some silly sale at a shoe store he was missing out on.

The one thing that truly horrified William as he came upon his friend like this and made him collapse to his knees in the pooling warmth of the blood beside Grell was the absolute lack of glasses. His most important glasses, the symbol of a working reaper, were gone.

"Will, are… you're alright?"

There was a rattling breath heaved to get the words out and bubbles of blood like summer berries oozing from Grells white lips as he spoke. His phosphorescent eyes were half open and glassy, not truly focused on William at all but still sensing his presence.

"I'm fine. You got me back to the infirmary in time."

Even in real life he'd probably never be able to force words of thanks and Grell would still somehow always understand and grin and they'd just go on as they always had. William knew very well this was a dream. He knew it even as he took up a limp cold hand to hold between his own. The thin snowy fingers were even colder than usual, somehow more chilled than death itself as the slow realization was dawning on William that this vision of Grell was dying.

"I know it's not in you to love me."

Grells eyes somehow found Williams then. Eyes that were greener than any other reapers he had known, ringed in the center with the hills of Ireland beneath a heavy spring rain. There was a soft and accepting expression on his face and the corners of his mouth curved into the most worn and tattered shadow of a smile William had ever seen. Even though this was surely a dream, desperately William hoped it was only a dream, he swallowed at the heavy tightness those blunt words slammed into him and he could do nothing but nod in mute agreement.

"I still want to be by your side. You're my forever, William. And nothing else will ever do. No matter what they take from me, my heart won't forget you."

William didn't have time to think on who "they" were or what was being lost. It was momentarily shocking and somehow more intimate that Grell had used his full name. In that moment Grells hand abruptly started to slip away from his grasp. The dying reaper was sinking into the red pool he lay in. His head tipped back further and his mouth opened in a silent pained cry, pointed teeth dripping with his own blood and more of it bubbled up from within his throat. His body arched in one final shudder of agony as erotic as any movement of passion.

William abandoned his now clutching hand and scrambled back at the sudden frothing in the cherry waters. He got to his feet and stood silently watching as the reaching white fingertips vanished and the last traces of long swirling hair on the surface rippled quietly and disappeared from sight.

Everything was red and silent. The soundless heartbeat of eternity throbbed on around him with a great hollow emptyness that pounded painfully within his own chest. It grew more and more unbearable with each passing second he stood alone.

Something seemed to break in William. He was standing here. Just standing here!

He fisted his hands and stomped and cursed, raging and kicking at the empty splashes of crimson around him in sudden anger at his own inaction. When Grell had been by his side for so many years and given so much to get him back safely he hadn't even been able to make the effort to call back. He hadn't said his name once in that too bright medical bay or tried to stretch out his hand for him. He couldn't pull him out of the red pool of his own despair by offering one kind word, he had let go of his hand so easily instead of lifting him into his arms where he deserved to be held.

And he knew it now. He stilled wide eyed and it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He felt it so deeply it had him shaking body and soul. Grell Sutcliff really was in love with him, had always been in love with him. As fiercely and passionately as anyone could ever love.

William shot up in his bed gripping the edge of the covers with white knuckles at the realization. For all his calmness even in dreams he was still drenched in sweat and shaking with weakness. It was in a way the most terrible nightmare he'd ever had in his life. He now saw what a complete and utter ass he had been for well over a century and how he'd been driving his best friend and one of the finest reapers he'd ever known to the edge of sanity and back on a daily basis.

All those times when he just didn't know what had gotten into Grell, or why he had been acting out. When he had to speak for him in front of enforcement officers and review boards and bail him out time after time. How awkward and strained their friendship always was with a distance kept between them that could so easily have been breached by simple camaraderie but never was, as if waiting for something more. How ladies sometimes gave him disapproving glares and gentlemen would laugh and wink at something he said about the red head, not aware of how it looked between them. What Grell surely dreamed of and wished for and tried so hard to make true despite the usual playful humor and teasing that veiled his attempts and saved his pride.

Calming himself down with deep breaths William ran a hand through his messy bangs to sweep them back into order. The image of Grell sinking away from him like a screaming blood soaked cameo still seared into his mind.

He felt like a complete and utter fool. He'd had his most important glasses on the entire time and still ended up blind. While he had been focusing on his career and working hard, the same things came so effortlessly to Grell that all he'd had to focus on was William. The gifted red head could have made it to senior management by now if he'd tried, but he obviously didn't want to try. He wanted William. That was all there was to it.

And William was an idiot.

If there had been a desk or a wall within his reach he'd be banging his already throbbing head against it by now.

"Hi ya Chief! ….Hey… you want I should get you a nurse? You don't look too good…"

The sound of Ronalds voice made William start and he automatically reached for his glasses and stared over at him in the doorway. Then he seemed to register what he'd been asked.

"No. No, just a headache. Comes and goes."

He ground out at the cheerful blond who was now peering at him with concern. It was the morning of his third day in bed and William was running out of patience quickly for not being able to do any work himself. Almost all his attempts from the day before had been blocked by nurses and doctors who led him back to bed and stole away his papers and pens "for the good of his health." A sweet yet loathsome phrase that had become his curse.

"Did you have something for me Mr. Knox?"

His tone was a sharp order but there was an expectant light in his eyes, almost a hunger, for any scrap of work the junior officer might have brought.

"Huh? Oh! Oh right!"

The blond quickly produced a plain manila file folder and set it on the bedside table. William tried not to look too eager before he took it up and flipped through the thick and comforting weight of the pages.

" I got ya those backlogged reports for review like you asked, Sir. And I called the detention center for you too. They told me Boss Sutcliffs not on their guest list. I had Annie, she's a cute brunette with curls and strawberry lipstick… Anyways, I had her check it twice for me and she said he's not there. I think that means they had ta let him go after we got our reports in on time. Least nothin in mine said he was on the hook for doin anything wrong…"

Ronald looked at his supervisor as if he expected William to tell him differently. As if he were going to hear exactly why Mr. Sutcliff deserved to be locked up and go through yet another disciplinary hearing that would knock his rank back down to trainee level at best.

"Have you called his apartment? He hasn't been around here yet."

William replied simply and his gaze drifted towards his only vase of flowers. The note from Grell was still tucked safely in the front pocket of the dressing robe he wore. Ronald looked towards the flowers and back to William before he had a moment of understanding and a small smile came to his face.

"I didn't get an answer when I rang him, I thought he might be out somewhere celebrating his victory. Once I get off my shift I was gonna make the rounds at the pubs and see… One a the guards over at HQ must be sweet on him to have gotten those flowers to you Sir."

"Yes, I'm sure he has his ways…"

William didn't really feel like going into the topic of how Grell was likely to have persuaded a guard. Instead he noticed something different about Knox that caught his eye.

"Why are you carrying a training scythe Mr. Knox? Is your usual machine still damaged?"

Knox looked down and moved his open suit jacket back from the thick leather belt and harness slung around his hips that holstered a small hand held traditionally shaped scythe. It was the kind of weapon they all learned to reap on back in the academy but would be far too obvious to go wandering around with in the human world these days.

"Ah, this old thing? Yeah, I guess you were right about Boss Sutcliff being some kinda genius. No one down at maintenance can figure out whats gone wrong with the motor in my mower. I'm stuck using this bit a scrap till he gets back to fix it since he's the one who designed her for me. Just my luck for wanting something bespoke and going to a guy whose sixpence short of a shilling half the time so no one else can get her sorted."

"Of course."

William felt like he should be groaning again. It figured Grell was responsible for his juniors lazy choice in collection equipment. The mower was powerful and could store far more souls than an ordinary scythe enabling Ronald to go to the end of his shift before he had to report back from the field, but it was also heavy and slow and gave him a disadvantage in a fight. He was working hard to make up for it with his knife fighting skills and extra combat training, but even so it left him looking like an easy target that attracted trouble as William had learned first hand.

"I mean, it's not a complete shambles out there yet Sir, but we're so short on guys it's hard for me to be runnin back and forth to dispatch to deliver each soul one at a time."

William was not going to argue the point between efficiency and laziness today. He also ignored the pain of his wounds as he pushed himself up and got to his feet. He straightened to his full height and adjusted the sash of his navy robe. Finding his slippers next he looked at his subordinate expectantly.

"Right. Mr. Knox, if you'd care to accompany me I should like to sign myself out now. We can search for Mr. Sutcliff together and make sure he's not out causing trouble when there's work to be done."

Ronalds eyes went big as he saw William getting up. He looked like he wanted to offer him a hand but he kept his distance all the same.

"Are you sure you should be going out Sir! It's not been three days yet and they said you had a week before…"

"Three days is more than enough. "

William snapped with determination glinting in the cold steel of his eyes. He held his beloved paperwork close against his chest and marched his way towards the door stubbornly ignoring how stiff and aching his muscles were from having grey metal energy leeching into his bloodstream and the lingering pain of the wound in his midsection. With one purpose set in mind he moved out the door and back out into the world.

William T. Spears was a man on a mission. He knew he had to find Grell. He smoothed a hand over the note in his pocket. He wanted to be there for him too. To be by his side. He needed Grell and maybe it wasn't love in the same vein. Maybe it was. He didn't know and finding out was going to be scary and messy. But he could not face another century of sitting here like a lump while Grell did everything he possibly could to win the smallest scrap of his affections. He owed him at the very least his gratitude and respect and to finally stop being the cold bastard Grell so often lamented him to be and welcome him as an equal into his life.

It had taken the blood of fourteen demons and almost loosing his life, but William was certain he was finally on the right path to really living in this bland and endless existence. He knew with more certainty than he had ever known anything that having Grell with him was what made facing the coming years of eternity bearable. Grell Sutcliff was the splash of colour that made "forever' a cherished word and not a grey curse. His thoughts echoing the words of his dream, for better or worse Grell was his 'forever' too.

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