Ronald opened the door of William's office and stepped inside, still holding the papers that Grell had dumped on him.

"Hey, Mister Spears, sir, Mister Sutcliff gave me these," he sat the papers on Will's desk, "and said to bring 'em to you."

Will picked up the paper on top and frowned. "Sutcliff couldn't bring them in himself..?"

"Nope. I mentioned that demon he's obsessed with and he ended up getting himself injured. It was weird to watch, really. I think he enjoys being attacked by that thing. I mean, why else would he run after him so much? I felt really bad for leaving him by himself at his house too, the demon hit him pretty hard. Several times."

"Michaelis. Of course..." Will pushed up his glasses. "Honestly. I'm sick of hearing about that demon," he shook his head and went to file the papers that Ronald had brought.

"Mister Sutcliff is fine, by the way," Ronald snapped. "Is paperwork all you can think about?"

Will glared at Ronald from the corner of his eye. "You said you took him home, and from that I gained the impression that Grell made it back alive."

"Ah. Right..." Ronald decided that leaving Will's office now would be a good idea.

He stopped, with his hand on the door handle, and turned to Will again. "What are you still doing here? Your desk was empty when I got in here."

Will looked at Ronald with a completely serious facial expression. "I was thinking."

Ronald opened the door slightly, when another thought popped into his head.

"You called Mister Sutcliff by his first name a minute ago," Ronald stated without looking at William.

Will stopped to re-think what he had said. He had indeed called Grell by his first name... "If you're quite done pointing out irrelevant details, would you please leave my office, reaper Knox?"

"See ya." Ronald hurried out before he could think of anything else to say that might irritate Will.

Grell stood in his bedroom alone.

He lit a small gas lamp in the corner of his bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed. He picked up his brush and slowly pulled it through his hair. What's the point in this...?

He stared as the face in the mirror became the very picture of loneliness.

He watched as tears spilled from his own eyes, as they always did.

He turned away to shield his eyes from the mirror, his trembling hands covering his face.

Tears continued to fall and Grell could feel the make-up he wore to cover his true self washing away, and dreaded looking back up into the mirror. When he did, the tears fell faster. With a loud sob, he pulled off his long false eyelashes and wiped away any remaining makeup. He continued to look at himself in the mirror for a few seconds, hating everything he saw, and then finally shut off his lamp angrily and climbed into his bed, wrapping the blankets around him tightly. He covered his face with his hands once more and cried into them until exhaustion took over and he slipped into a restless sleep.