Greetings Earthlings! And thus begins our first two-parter! Sorry it took me a bit longer than usual to get this out; I was going to write the whole idea for this prompt but I realized it was getting really long, so I decided, "Ah, screw it" and I'm making the second half (which I only just started writing) into Chapter Five. This one starts out light, then goes kinda serious, but not as solemn as last time's (I hope o.O). Also, first time writing Sebby and Ciel, so this ought to be fun.

Warning: Uhh, a reaper gets a brief appearance who's manga-only, but as with Chapter Two, only his name is spoiled.

Disclaimer: Ha. Ha. Ha. No.

And on that note: enjoy!

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Death Scythes And Glasses

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Hurt

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"It huuuuurrrtttttssssss!"

Not bothering to glance up at his subordinate, who had been present and whining for the part five minutes, William signed another report. "I cannot comprehend how you can tolerate getting your arm cut off with a grin but will complain for hours about having scraped your knee."

Sutcliff leant forwards from his lounging position in the armchair in the corner of the dark haired man's office, lacing his fingers together and resting his head upon his hands, looking at his superior in a contemplative manner. "I am a notorious drama queen, Will; you know that almost better than I. But I think that perhaps, at the present, I'm just bored. And it does hurt, you know. Just because I can tolerate pain doesn't make it enjoyable."

William sighed, putting the file on top of a neatly stacked pile of its brethren, and glared at the redhead. "So you don't classify any of your past fights with the Phantomhive child's demon, the entirety of which, from what I have observed, were spent with you grinning like a madman, enjoyable?"

The other reaper's eyes gleamed in amusement. "My, my. Playing dirty, are we now, Will? Well, touché. You got me; that was indeed quite fun. But you know what I mean."

"Honestly..." was the muttered reply as the man at the desk looked to his work load once more. Grell absentmindedly rolled up his pant leg and began to inspect his injured knee; poking and prodding the scabbed flesh and pouting when the expected twinge of pain came. "Come on, Will," the redhead drawled. "Hurry it up already. It's past eleven, and you simply cannot leave an injured lady to walk home by herself."

"Yes," William replied, standing and picking up the pile of completed reports. "In fact, I indeed believe I can." Without looking back, he walked to the door, adding, "I have three more stacks of approximately the same size to finish by tomorrow. Go bother someone in Forensics."

Grell winced, but didn't let the action show itself, not that his superior's retreating back would have noticed. 'A bother? Fine. I'll show him a bother.'

William, for his part, was picking up his death scythe, which he had carefully leant against the wall just outside his office some minutes previous. Walking to the Administration Bureau at a brisk pace, he didn't notice his most memorable subordinate quietly slipping out of the room he had occupied previously and into the blackness of the other direction.

:::

William looked from his office to the trail of red liquid on the tiled floor leading away from it and back in bewilderment. Deftly kneeling down, the reaper swiped a droplet of the substance onto his finger, narrowing his eyes when he saw it was blood. Reaper blood. What on Earth had happened?

Opening the door to his office, the bespectacled man scanned the room for anything out of place, noting the general disarray and window hanging agar, and focused in when he saw a note upon his desk. Moving closer, he noted that it read, "Follow the bloody brick road, Will" in shaky but suspiciously familiar handwriting. 'What has Sutcliff gotten himself into this time?'

Shaking his head and walking briskly out of the office, his pruning pole swaying to the rhythm of his steps, the reaper's eyes widened and he bright himself to a stop before he could crash into a harried Ronald Knox, sans death scythe and looking around frantically. Registering the other man, the blond breathed out a sigh of relief. "I've been looking everywhere for you!" he exclaimed, panting. "London... You hafta get to London as soon as you can."

Noting his subordinate's panicked expression, William nodded. "Lead me to where I am needed."

Knox took off at a run, and the other reaper hastened his pace in an attempt to follow. Some small part of his unconscious found the fact that they were following the trail of blood interesting, but the thought was quickly dismissed as the two reapers appeared in mortal London.

Guiding his superior through a labyrinth of twists and turns down the darkened alleys of the capital at night, Ronald's eyes glowed, scanning the ground every few seconds to make sure he was still following the splattered red liquid that lead them through the city, and hung a sharp right when he recognized that the two were in the area they needed to be. Leaping onto a nearby rooftop and motioning for William to do the same, he peered down into the abandoned plaza.

Well, it had been abandoned.

At the moment, the plaza was home to one blood-spattered corpse, one butler, and one very bewildered Earl of Phantomhive. 'It figures,' the elder reaper thought.

The duo down below were discussing the very body the reapers were staring at. "It isn't mortal blood, is it?" the Earl was asking.

"Very good, young master," the demon replied, smiling pleasantly as if not looking down at a mess of flesh, blood, and entrails. "While part of it indeed belongs to the corpse, the other half is-"

"Reaper."

Looking to their right, the child and his butler saw William T. Spears approach them, closely trailed by Ronald Knox. "Spears," the Earl greeted, and was given a curt nod in reply. The butler raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "And what business might the reapers have involving this? The corpse isn't human; there's no soul for you to collect."

"Well, Knox?" the London Director asked. "I would like to know that answer myself."

The blond didn't look at his superior, instead crouching down and examining the corpse. "It's a demon, innit?" Looking to Sebastian, he impatiently demanded, "Well?"

With an affirmative answer, Ronald stood up, looking to the group in what could almost be fear. "This is Mr. Sutcliff's blood," he uttered, reaching a barely trembling hand to push up his glasses. "Look at the markings on the corpse; I'd know that chainsaw anywhere."

The butler shared a look with his master and frowned, before crouching down in order to examine the body. "This was a minor fox demon," he concluded, glancing up at the small group gathered. "While notorious tricksters, they aren't known for being strong or having much skill in battle. If, as you say, this blood is indeed Grell Sutcliff's, I would have a hard time believing that this demon in particular would have been able to inflict the necessary kind of injury upon him to cause that level of blood loss."

"Which means that Sutcliff must have already been injured when he came into contact with it," muttered William. "Very well." Looking to his subordinate, he inquired, "Was that all you wanted to show me?"

Knox nodded. "I heard a report about a bunch of demons around London dying in the past couple of minutes and managed to find the corpse of this one, but I didn't get a chance to look at it 'til now. And combined with the fact that Mr. Sutcliff had gone missing..."

The Earl began to looked troubled at those words, and the demon started cleaning up the body with a faint frown. The elder reaper whipped his head around from the carnage to lock eyes with the blond. "What?!"

"Nobody's seen Mr. Sutcliff in the past half hour," he replied grimly. "Not one. Mr. Sutcliff's the kinda guy who you always know where he is, 'cause he's so loud you can hear him from a mile away, right? The only time we'd lost contact with him was when the whole Jack the Ripper thing was happening. And I heard that he was gone and I saw the blood and I bolted to find you."

William nodded, mind rushing a mile a minute. "The trail of blood continues. I shall follow it. You may return to Headquarters, Knox."

The reaper shook his head stubbornly. "I ain't leaving Mr. Sutcliff like that," he said. "No way."

The elder man pushed up his glasses with a distracted sigh. "Very well." He looked to the Earl and his butler, and stated, "We appreciate the information," getting a nod in acknowledgement.

Both beings promptly took off.

:::

"Do you recognize this part of town?" Ronald asked his superior as they dashed above the streets of London via rooftop, following their unusual trail.

"While I don't know it incredibly well, I am vaguely familiar with the area," William replied, clutching on to his pruning pole. "It is the economic district."

"That makes sense," the blond responded, recklessly leaping from one building to the next. "That's why we've been passing all these banks. But why would Mr. Sutcliff come down here?"

"I believe the more important question would be-" the elder reaper began, but stopped dead before he could finish. Looking around, he said, "The trail has disappeared."

Ronald gave the area a cursory glance as well, before wondering aloud, "So where could he have- Wait a minute. Disappeared. You don't think-"

"That Sutcliff returned to our realm? It's likely."

William twirled his death scythe in a figure eight before hitting it onto the ground to emphasize his point. "Let's make haste."

The blond nodded, and the two reapers flashed back to their dimension.

:::

'More blood. Blast you Sutcliff.'

William shook his head, vigorously clearing it before his thoughts could proceed any further. He took off at a run, Ronald trailing not far behind, and belatedly realized that the trail was leading him to Forensics. As the man slammed open the double doors, a flustered Othello caught his eye.

"Director Spears. Ron. This really isn't a good time," he greeted hurriedly, pacing over to them, taking in the elder's uncharacteristic drumming of his fingers on his pruning pole and the younger's pale expression. "Why not?" the senior reaper asked. Othello merely motioned to the room. "Take a look around."

"Whoa," the blond breathed out as he and his superior surveyed the area. "How did we miss that?"

It was chaos. Tables destroyed, experiments overturned, part of the wall crumbled in a heap on the floor. Reapers scrambling around, writing notes frantically, helping pick their injured colleagues off the ground, trying desperately to save data. Blood everywhere.

"And it could have been a lot worse," the tufty haired reaper muttered, looking at the sight as well "If Grell hadn't been here-"

"Grell?" William asked sharply. "What does he have to do with this?"

Othello furrowed his eyebrows, touching a hand to his spectacles. "You didn't know? He came in at a full run, and he'd been hurt pretty badly as far as I could tell. Next thing anyone registers is somehow a demon gets in. Well, you know us. Forensics couldn't fight off a demon to save our lives (and for the first minute or so, we tried), and Grell knew that too so he ended up battling it all by himself. Caused a fair lot of damage - well, you've seen the state of this place - but he managed to kill it. Once he had done that, he threw it outside and took off again," he explained.

William had frozen. Eyes wide, gone paler than usual, fists clenched. Ronald was getting concerned. "Hey, Director Spears?" he asked, waving a hand in front of the other reaper's face, Othello looking on over his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Already injured... Had just fought another but insisted on killing this one as well... What had gotten into him? He's not an idiot, damn it!" the elder man was muttering. Blinking and shaking his head once more, he snapped out of the trance he had been in. "Let's- let's continue. We have no idea how badly injured Sutcliff is at this point."

Cautiously putting a hand on his superior's shoulder, Ronald tried to adopt a comforting tone of voice as he said, "Don't worry about Mr. Sutcliff. He's taken a beating from a lot worse than a couple of demons. He's a crazy resilient guy, don't ya know? Emphasis on crazy."

William managed a choppy nod and the corners of his mouth twitched up. "I suppose that's true."

"Listen," Othello cut in, "I'm really sorry, but I need to help clean up and you guys might want to follow the trail of blood that's leading out of here, because it's been a good ten minutes since Grell left and I don't know where he's gotten to."

"Gotcha. Thanks Othello!" the blond called out over his shoulder as he and his senior left the room.

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Rushing down a hallway, pushing past others. Pausing where the trail had gotten smudged, but never stopping.

Moving.

Moving.

'Move.'

But then they paused.

The trail had a few splattered patches here and there, but had mainly collected itself in a puddle in front of the glasses division. "Well," Ronald said, biting his lip, "I guess we go in?"

"Hn," William grunted in agreement, before trying the doorknob. 'It's open,' he realized, and proceeded to walk into the small entrance hallway between where they made reaper's spectacles. He turned the corner, made his way into the open creation space, and stopped dead.

"Well Will," Grell Sutcliff said weakly, laying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, "seems you've found the wizard of Oz. Or perhaps the little man behind the curtain? Doesn't matter, does it? Either way-" here he cut off with a coughing fit that didn't subside for at least twenty seconds, blood choking its way out all the while for good measure, "..either way, I think that I'm in a spot of trouble." The red reaper tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but stopped midway as another coughing fit overcame him, and flopped back to the ground. "Be a dear and help a lady out? I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to last if I'm just being a bother on my own."

'No. This isn't happening.'

William dropped his death scythe and ran to the redhead's side, kneeling down, ignoring how the action stained his suit with ('No, don't think of that, we need help, don't just sit there watching Sutcliff fade, take action damn it!'). "Knox!" he barked, and the other reaper was next to him in an instant. "Bring doctors." "Got it," the blond nodded, already racing out of the room.

Racking his brain for anything that might be of assistance to his subordinate until medical help could arrive, the dark haired man inspected his companion for any sign of where the blood was coming from. "You won't find the real source of the bleeding like that," Grell said, interrupting his search. "My lungs got punctured, but the worse of it is up here." Feebly grabbing William's hand, the other reaper used it to push back a curtain of his bright hair, revealing a deep wound. "It all blends in, you see? Even I didn't understand how bad it was until I saw that I was leaving behind a trail of my own blood."

Shedding his jacket, William pressed it to the injury, trying to staunch the flow. "Has anyone told you you're not very-" another cough, "-good at this, Will?"

"I am doing what I believe will work. Quit wasting your energy by talking." The redhead grimaced as the rapid tatter of footsteps approached them, and the dark haired man jerked his attention up. "He's over here," he called out, and a group of reapers approached them, lead by Ronald. "My," the redhead mumbled, "don't I have a group of admirers today. Hello, Ronnie."

The blond shook his head. "There ain't a nice way to say this, Mr. Sutcliff, but shut up. You're fading pretty quickly and we can't have you wasting any more energy, now can we?"

Shooting him a good natured glare that belied his current state of injury, Grell sang, "I didn't listen to William and I won't be listening to you, young man. No, you'll have to make me stop if you really want me to!"

William's eyebrow twitched, and with a few deft flicks of his wrist he turned his makeshift bandage into an unconventional but nonetheless highly effective gag. "And with that," the reaper stated irritably, jerking his head towards the doctors, "we turn him over to you."

The group swarmed their newfound patient and disappeared, and the Director of the London Division slid, suddenly exhausted, into a seated position.

"Think he'll be alright?" Ronald asked, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen. His superior blinked. "Of course he will. We are talking about Grell Sutcliff; the man could jump into a volcano and emerge grinning from ear to ear." Eyes widening slightly as his brain registered his words, the reaper nodded curtly. "Yes. He will be fine."

The blond grinned ruefully. "There we go. Sometimes you've gotta say it yourself to believe it. Now come on," he added, holding out a hand to his senior. "If you stay like that your suit's gonna get ruined." Accepting the help and pulling himself up back to a standing position, William reclaimed his pruning pole.

Giving the room they were in a cursory glance, the dark haired reaper stated, "Well? I expect that this incident will have caused some bureaucratic trouble, and I still have two stacks of reports to validate. Return to your work."

And return to their work they did.

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So how did I do? I think I'm getting the hang of these; would you guys agree? Let me know in the comments.

Thanks to everybody who's favourited, followed, and reviewed, and a shoutout to WhatExistsInFalling (Thanks for liking my stuff!) and my friend Giules (Thanks for letting me force you to proofread each new chapter).

I think that's all for now. Hope you guys are having a good day.

See ya!

-Ua