A/N: This is my longest chapter so far, and it was actually difficult to write. I hope that everyone enjoys it.

Chapter 4: Fighting and Returning

Undertaker had never regretted taking on the guise of a slightly eccentric, old bounder. It gave him the chance to observe people in a way he had never been able to as a reaper all while silently laughing at the great punchline that was his true identity. In fact, it was one of the reasons he had returned despite knowing that he might face consequences. It would have been easy for him to go to some far off place and construct some new identity, but he had gotten used to his life here. Still, he could never deny how exhilarating it felt to cast aside the disguise to reveal his true self. He was confident enough in his own power and abilities that he didn't have to flaunt, but it was simultaneously very fulfilling when a moment arrived he could demonstrate what he could really do.

All of his senses were alive as he waited in the dim light; exhilarated by the thrill of the upcoming scuffle. There were five of them, all human, and he couldn't help but smile since it was doubtful they had any idea of the situation they were now entangled. Four were upstairs in the bedroom, and he strongly suspected that they had slipped inside through the tiny window of that room. They probably thought they were being quiet as they crept about, but they might as well have been playing trumpets to announce their presence. There was another crouched beneath the stairs and he was the one who had thrown the weapon had injured Grell. Undertaker had no idea how that man had managed to sneak down the stairs unnoticed, but he wasn't going to get any closer.

The one hiding behind the stairs was the first one to make a move. He leapt out with a yell as he swung what appeared to be a makeshift blade without a hilt. Blood was pouring from his palms, but his face didn't even seem to register the pain as he screamed. Something deep inside of Undertaker, something very raw and primal, wanted to cut this man into a thousand pieces for threatening the safety of Grell, but he knew better than to act on the urge. If he openly revealed that he still had his scythe not only would the council attempt to take it away from him, but what was more troubling was they would also take away Grell. The redhead's best chance at being able to return to normal was here where the council had direct access, so even though Undertaker could undoubtedly take him away and start over somewhere else, it wouldn't be fair to Grell. Right now his best course of action was to do his best to defend Grell while simultaneously doing his best to neither kill the men (that would draw the attention of the council) or to cut any with his scythe. As Undertaker calculated the man's movements, he realized he didn't need to even use a fraction of his strength and abilities in order to make this a brief scuffle.

The man lunged forward, swinging the blade as if trying to take off Undertaker's head, but the ancient swiftly stepped to the side and slammed the blunt end of his scythe into the man's chest. He knew how hard he could hit without causing serious injury and calmly watched at the man fell to floor unconscious from the blow. Upstairs there was a flurry of activity, and he rushed up the steps only to see two disappear out the window while the others shakily faced him with more cobbled weapons. Using only the handle of his scythe he quickly dispatched one of the two men, leaving him lying in a crumbled mess on the floor. The second one took a wild swing and he actually felt the sting as the tip of the blade managed to cut his face. Undertaker took no time to worry about an injury that no doubt would be non-existent in a few minutes as kicked the man with his booted foot and watched his unconscious form join his buddy's on the floor. Now, there was just the matter of the two that had fled out the window.

Both of them had jumped, and it appeared one of him had already done himself in. He had hit his head on the cobblestones and now was lying in a growing pool of his own blood. There was a good chance an active reaper would be after the man soon, but at least it hadn't happened inside of his shop nor was it at his hand. The other was trying to limp slowly away on what looked like a broken, or at least badly dislocated, ankle. Undertaker caught up to him quickly and grabbed the man by his soiled shirt. "Why are you here?" he growled without any trace of his usual humor.

The man's smiled revealed that he was missing more than a few teeth. He wasn't an old man, but hard times had aged him greatly so that what was left of his dark hair was graying and stood up in fluffy tufts on the back of his head. He was far too thin to be healthy and the sores that tattooed his hide were angry and inflamed. "Asclepius told us of the traitor who stole the child we have been seeking," he slurred, "but now he has retrieved him. Drink of the Ambrosia!" Undertaker did him a favor by knocking him out quickly so that he never had a moment of consciousness to feel the pain of the blow.

A high pitched cry reached Undertaker's ears and he suddenly realized that he had left Grell alone without any protection. Cursing his own foolishness, he leapt nimbly through the upstairs window and rushed downstairs just in time to hear a deeper cry of what sounded like a man in pain. He couldn't sense anybody, but even with his poor eyesight he could see a figure draped in a black cloak trying to take Grell. The young reaper had done the only thing he could do to defend himself in this situation and sunk his razor sharp teeth deep into the offender's hand.

Undertaker was no longer concerned concealing his continued possession of his scythe as he rushed forward with every intention of slicing off the arm that dared to touch Grell, but the potential kidnapper moved aside swiftly to miss the main arc of the ancient tool. He couldn't move completely out of the way as the curved blade did manage to slice through the robe and made a thin cut along the skin. The strange yelped in surprised pain and quickly released his hold on Grell, who fell solidly onto the floor. Undertaker barely had time to register that Grell had begun to cry softly as he saw the stranger move with unbelievable speed into the small kitchen. The retired reaper dashed to the doorway, but the stranger had already disappeared. He could have perhaps pursued the robed figure, but he wasn't going to leave Grell alone again.

With the danger passed, Undertaker returned to the rather pale looking, tiny redhead still sitting on the floor. The sleeve of his shirt was torn, and the white fabric was stained red from where he had bled. Although were still tears in his eyes and clinging to his lashes, he was no longer actively crying. "Grell, are you okay?"

Grell nodded slowly. Just as he always did when he was tired or uncertain, he started to bring his thumb up to his mouth, but this time Undertaker took his hand and stopped him. "Did you see the man that grabbed you?" he asked, "Did you see his face?"

The young reaper shook his head and he slowly spoke, although his voice was rather shaky. "I couldn't see his face," he answered, "Only his hands – and they were hairy!"

Despite everything, Undertaker couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the sound of disgust lacing Grell's voice – relieved that he seemed to be okay. Looking out at the unconscious body lying on the floor, however, was sadly proof that Grell wasn't as safe as he had assumed. Whoever was behind this cult was more dangerous than Undertaker had originally thought. He didn't worry about his own well-being, but he was responsible for Grell and he had to think of the red reaper's safety. Sadly, it appeared that William may have been right after all. Grell was probably safer in the reaper realm.

Keeping Grell close to his side, he carried the unconscious men outside and dumped their bodies where they would be quickly found the next morning. He then quickly cleaned and bandaged Grell's arm before creating a portal. Closing his eyes, he held tightly to redhead's hand as they stepped through – not opening his eyes until his feet was firmly on the realm he had long since abandoned.

In one sense, this was his home and every fiber of his being both knew this and ached to be here despite his heart's cries to the contrary. Even though things had changed radically since he had last seen this place, his feet knew which path to take to get to the dispatch office as he walked silently – taking all the twists and turns without hesitation. It was late, but he knew William had a tendency to stay after hours at the office, and he only hoped that he would still be there. He found the building easily enough, but it was locked tight as everyone had already left. For a few minutes, he simply stood there as he tried to figure out his next move when a familiar face happened to walk around the corner. He recognized the young reaper with the two-toned hair as the one he had seen with Grell in the past, but Ronald hadn't noticed him just yet. He was smiling and flirting with an attractive woman who was soaking up all the attention like a sponge. As they stepped closer, Ronald turned his head and his gaze happened upon them and he stopped, almost comically, in his tracks.

"It's you!" he gasped, looking at Undertaker. Then his eyes drifted downward to the rather small redhead holding the Undertaker's hand. "And…Senior Sutcliff?"

"Right now, I think that you're his senior," Undertaker corrected, "We were looking for Willy, but it looks like he's already left the office. Do you know where he lives?"

"Uh, yeah," answered Ronald, "I can show you his apartment." He turned briefly to the girl on his arm. "Why don't you go on, Lucille? I'll meet you at your place later."

"Okay," she said, leaning close to Ronald, her ebony ringlets no doubt tickling his ear, "But don't keep me waiting too long."

Lucille walked away, making sure to add just a little extra wiggle to her walk as she did. Despite Ronald's obvious surprise at seeing Undertaker and a child version of his mentor, he took the time to watch her as she walked away.

"Sorry to take you away from your date," apologized Undertaker.

"That's okay," Ronald said, but he still seemed distracted, "I'll meet up with her later, and later is always the part I'm eagerly waiting on anyway."

Undertaker laughed at younger reaper's candor. "Now, lead the way to Willy's house, if you don't mind."

"It's this way," instructed the blonde, leading them down a nearby street. The first apartments were tiny as they were no doubt intended for the rookies, but the buildings gradually got larger as they moved down the street. About halfway down, Ronald stopped and pointed to an apartment, which Undertaker noted it wasn't particularly large and it had nothing on the exterior to give a passerby any clue as to the identity of the occupant. "This is it," he announced.

"Thank you," Undertaker said, "Now, hurry on back to your date, and have fun."

"Trust me," Ronald replied, a huge smile plastered on his face, "That's exactly what I intend to do." He started to walk away, but paused and looked back at the ancient. "Do you think we'll be able to help him?" he motioned towards Grell, "I had heard the rumors this morning, but I just couldn't really believe it until now."

Undertaker looked down only to see that Grell was almost asleep on his feet. Effortlessly, he picked him up and allowed the exhausted child to lay his tired head on his shoulder. "I don't know, but I certainly plan to do everything I can to help the dear lad."

Ronald looked partially relieved as he turned away and hurried back down the street. Undertaker watched him as he disappeared into the distance before turning and knocking on the plain wooden door to William's apartment. A few minutes went by and he could hear shuffling inside before William finally opened the door.

Although he had been apparently relaxing at home, William didn't look much differently than usual. His jacket and tie were gone, no doubt hung up neatly, but he was still dressed in his dress shirt and slacks. Instinctively, he ran a hand through his already immaculate dark hair and adjusted his glasses. Undertaker had recently noticed just how often he adjusted his glasses and found himself wondering if it was a nervous habit.

"Sir," William gasped, "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I didn't plan to pop over for an unexpected visit either, Willy, but there's been an unfortunate turn of events. May we come in?"

"Yes, of course," William said, stepping to the side to allow them to enter.

The house was immaculate as the man. The color scheme was muted earth tones that blended and complimented one another without any one color standing out more than another. Everything was perfectly arranged and setting in their appointed places. In a way, it looked almost more like a set for a theatre production than an actual home. It appeared neat and even professionally put together, but there was so little that had any actual personality. Without commenting on this, Undertaker made his way inside and took a seat on a beige sofa in the living room. He set Grell down by his side, but the tiny reaper seemed more interested in a fire that was roaring in the fireplace. It added the only splash of color to the room, and Grell moved off the sofa to sit in front of the fire. The orange light danced on his face and in his two-toned eyes and seemed almost hypnotized by the dancing flames punctuating by sharp pops and cracks.

"Did something happen?" William asked as he stepped into the room. He didn't sit down, but hovered over the pair on the couch.

Undertaker nodded. "Some leftovers from the cult decided to pay me a little visit tonight, he said, "At first there was only five, although I had no idea how they managed to sneak in before I knew they were there. Those five were no real problem, but there was a man in a dark robe who actually managed to get his hands on Grell. Luckily, Lil' Red here sunk his teeth into his hand and I got a little slice in myself. The man ran away, and that's when I decided to come here." He sighed deeply and looked up towards William. He could hear the exhaustion and disappointment in his own voice, and he winced inwardly. "I can't protect him, Will," he admitted, "This cult shouldn't be a problem, but they got way too close tonight. Grell was cut, and that man actually touched him. I was able to drive them away, but they should have never have gotten their hands on Grell." He stopped talking because he was afraid his voice might betray him. For the first time ever he had found himself doubting his own capabilities. Maybe he was slipping.

"I can see you were both wounded," William said, his eyes moving from Grell's arm and Undertaker's face, "But I'm as surprised as you are about this cult. They shouldn't have been able to cause any difficulties. For now, I suppose it would be safer for Sutcliff not to be in the mortal realm." He sighed softly, and it was clear that he was uncomfortable about something. "I was getting ready to go to sleep, so my bed's already prepared. You two can sleep in there and I'll take the couch."

"We can't take your bed, Will," retorted Undertaker, "I wouldn't allow you to give it up. Grell's fine out here. He's small, and he'll have no problem sleeping on the couch."

"What about you?" William asked.

"I don't plan on sleeping," the ancient replied sternly, "Not now. Someone needs to watch over Grell."

William stood for a few more minutes and it appeared that he might argue with Undertaker, but then he simply turned and left the room. It was probably just as well since he wasn't going to change his mind. William reappeared shortly with some blankets and a pillow, and Undertaker softly thanked him. Soon they arranged a rather comfortable bed for Grell, who had all but fallen asleep in front of the fire. Undertaker placed the tiny reaper under the cover and sat down in the floor in front of the couch so that he could watch over him.

"Nuku, nuku, nurmilintu," he sang softly as he stroked the sleeping child's reaping hair. He had heard the lullaby before, but this was the first time he had ever sang it himself. Somehow the sound of it slipping past his pale lips seemed natural.

"Do you need anything?" William asked from the doorway.

Undertaker looked up and immediately realized how long he had been sitting on the floor when he saw that the typically stoic supervisor had changed into a pair of light green pajamas. He had never seen him in anything other than professional attire, and he had to admit that the pajamas actually suited him. "We're fine," he replied.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," William hesitated. He obviously wasn't used to playing host, but he was giving it his best attempt.

"Thank you," Undertaker said, sincerely, "Go on to bed. We'll be fine."

"Okay. Goodnight then, sir."

"Goodnight Will."

Will adjusted his glasses one final time before finally disappearing down the darkened hallway, and Undertaker turned his attention back to Grell. The tiny reaper looked so peaceful and his face so full of life.

"I'm going to keep you safe, no matter what," Undertaker whispered. The only answer he received was the crackling of the slowly dying embers.

((X))

Although William valued routine and order, he could handles changes and surprises. This isn't to say that he liked change, because he didn't, but he felt confident there was very little that he couldn't handle. This view of himself was tested early that morning when he stepped into his kitchen only to be confronted with the image of Undertaker cheerfully making breakfast as a rather small version of his subordinate and most ardent admirer sat at the table cheerfully kicking his short legs back and forth. For a moment he could only stop and stare as his mind desperately tried to comprehend the scene.

"Good morning, Willy," Undertaker greeted as he turned to greet him slightly. Somehow the ancient had found the rather frilly apron someone had once given him as a gag gift and was wearing it as he cooked. "How do you like your eggs?"

"I usually don't have any," William managed as he retrieved his favorite mug from the cabinet and poured him a cup of coffee that he was thankful Undertaker had prepared. He winced a bit at the taste as it was stronger than he usually preferred, but it certainly had the ability to jolt a person awake. However, it wasn't as if William needed a jolt. The sight that had greeted him in his very own kitchen had been more than enough of a shock.

"Nonsense," Undertaker insisted, "Everyone should start the day with breakfast. Besides, you're already dressed and ready for another dull day at the office. At least take a minute for some nice, hot food." He put a hand on William's shoulder and guided the rather stunned reaper to a seat, and William sat down despite his intentions to argue. Grell, who looked particularly awake this morning, smiled at William as he played with a fork.

William didn't have a chance to say anything as Undertaker set steaming hot plates of food for him and Grell. He didn't think that he was hungry, but he found his mouth watering as the smell of the food wafted up to tease his nose. Grell didn't hesitate as he immediately began shoveling the food in the vicinity of his mouth, and Undertaker chuckled softly as he returned to the table with his own plate.

"Slow down," he admonished, "It's not going anyway." He took a napkin and wiped away some foot that dotted the younger reaper's cheeks.

"But it's good!" Grell exclaimed.

"And don't talk with your mouth full," Undertaker added, but he didn't look cross. Almost playfully, he tapped Grell's nose and the child giggled.

William took a minute to appreciate the interaction between the two as he attempted to hide a tiny smile behind his coffee cup. As odd as all of this was, if felt comfortable and relaxing and a part of him hating leaving his house today. Still, there was work to be done so he finished eating his food and stood up to leave.

"I'll be back later," he announced, "I'm not sure what time I'll be, but make yourselves at home."

"I was hoping you might be able to stop by on your lunch break," Undertaker said, "I can having something made for you to eat, but I need to pop back home for a minute. A dear girl gave Grell some clothes, but I left them behind when we left. I don't want to leave Grell alone, and I don't want to take him back to the mortal world right now."

William considered the matter for a moment, and more of the Undertaker's cooking made it a rather tempting offer. "I should be able to do that. I'll probably be back around noon, but I have to be back to the office on time," he stated.

"That should work out fine," Undertaker replied, "Thanks, Willy."

For some reason, William just couldn't get mad over Undertaker's continual use of nicknames. He simply shook his head as he headed out the door and made his way towards dispatch. Everything about this morning was so unusual, so wrong, yet William couldn't help but think that it was also right somehow at the same time. Still, mulling this over in his head, he walked into dispatch and headed down the hall to his office.

"I don't want to be disturbed, Miss Fletcher," he stated to his secretary, "Unless it is an emergency, no one is to knock on my office door. Understood?"

"Yes, Mr. Spears," the young woman answered immediately as she continued with her work.

William appreciated her efficiency as he walked into his office and firmly shut his door. As usual, there were folders and paperwork were in neat stacks on his desk, most waiting for his signature or review, but the first thing he needed to do was to reassign the workload now that Grell was not going to be able to take on any fieldwork in the immediate future. He truly hoped there was some way that Grell could be returned to his rightful age. Not only were they already shorthanded, but a part of him actually found himself missing the flamboyant reaper's typical antics. If Grell was here at this moment he'd no doubt be bemoaning paperwork while simultaneously trying to flirt with him, and maybe just a tiny part of him missed the redhead's presence. Besides, when Grell put his mind to it, he was actually a rather talented reaper. At least, that's all he'd let his mind consider at the moment as he ignored that minute voice in the back of his head that insisted it more than just that.

Just as he was finishing dividing up the new workload, his door floor open with a bang and he looked up to see Frederick standing there. Miss Fletcher was behind his enraged supervisor, and it was obvious she had tried to stop him, but the stocky man had been apparently not in the mood to listen. His breath was ragged and his round face was as scarlet as a certain reaper's hair.

"Spears!" Frederick shouted without any sort of greeting, "Do you know where that accursed Undertaker is? He's left his shop with that sad excuse of a reaper!"

William blinked a few times in realization that Frederick was keeping a watch over Undertaker, but not a close enough of a one to know what had happened the night before. "He came to my house last night, Mr. Hargreaves," he answered calmly, "He had thought about we had said and decided it would be safer for Sutcliff in this realm."

Frederick rushed forward and slammed his palms down on the desk causing William's papers to scatter. His normally well combed, albeit sparse, blonde hair was falling down across his forehead and in front of his bulging eyes. He almost seemed unnaturally angry, and William couldn't help but wonder if his own job had been threatened as well. William had heard rumors at the higher council were reluctant to promote Frederick for some reason. "Did something happen last night that caused him to leave?" he demanded.

While he didn't want his supervisor to know all of the details, William wasn't going to lie to the man's face. "Some members of the cult attempted to kidnap Sutcliff, but Undertaker was able to stop them," he admitted.

Frederick made a noise that something between a roar and a scream. "I knew it!" he shouted, "I don't care what happens to Sutcliff. I wouldn't care if that cult sacrificed to whatever it is they worship. That'd just mean less paperwork with his name on it, but we have to stop this cult. Humans can never be allowed to obtain immortality, and this group is just a bit too close. Come on! You say that they're on your house? Well, we need to pay them a visit."

He turned and stormed from the room as William stood up and followed rather numbly. To hear how his supervisor felt about Grell had been a bit shocking. While it was true that Grell got into a fair amount of trouble, saying that he didn't care if he was sacrificed was a bit much. Without words, William followed his supervisor out of the building and down the street to his apartment. William hadn't realized that Frederick knew exactly where he lived, but he didn't have much time to think about it as enraged man pounded on his door.

Undertaker opened the door, a drop of flour on his cheek and a huge smile painted across his face, but the smile melted when he looked at Frederick. "Yes?" he said rather calmly.

"I told you," Frederick growled. He was actually shaking with apparent anger. "I told you that this child version of the most incompetent and pathetic reaper in all of recorded history needed to be here in our realm for his safety, but you wouldn't listen. Now that you know you can't protect him, you think you just come here like you belong or something. Well, you don't belong. You rejected this realm when you turned your back on your purpose. We don't want you here and you're not welcome here. Leave immediately!"

A darkness passed over Undertaker's face, and William was sure that if his eyes were visible they would be blazing with anger at this moment. "Come on, Grell," he called back as he held out his hand, "We're going." Grell walked hesitantly to the doorway. No doubt he had heard the shouting and it probably had scared him a little.

"No," Frederick growled, "The child stays here where he'll be safe. It's already been shown that you can't protect him. The council has already spoken on this matter. If you take Sutcliff, we will no longer try and help him. We will simply work to put an end to the cult. Do you understand what I'm saying? Leave now, immediately, or Sutcliff will suffer for your foolishness!"

Undertaker opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it quickly again with saying a word. He glanced back at Grell, and William could tell he wanted to take Grell along, but Frederick's words had frightened him. Lips trembling, he turned to William. "Watch over him for me, Willy," he said in a soft tone that was barely audible as he stepped out of the house to create a portal.

"Uncle Undie!" Grell cried, "You can't go!" He started to run out the door to follow his beloved caregiver, but Frederick crudely shoved him back into the house. Grell fell hard to the floor and he made a startled noise of pain. There were tears in his eyes when he looked up, but William saw the rage burning in his irises as he glared at Frederick. It was in that moment that William realized that despite the size and some of the more childlike behaviors, the fiery Grell he had known since the academy was still in there somewhere.

Undertaker didn't look back, but his shoulders were shaking as he created a portal and stepped through, disappearing from sight. "I'm glad he's gone," Frederick growled, "You can't trust him. I wouldn't doubt if he's really behind the whole mess and is just staged the kidnapping attempt to throw of suspicion. You see that cut on his face? I bet he did that to himself." He shook his head before looking down at Grell with a disgusted expression on his unpleasant face. "Find someone else to watch over the brat for a while. Maybe one of your workers can do it." Still grumbling to himself, he quickly turned and hurried away, leaving William alone with Grell who had begun to cry despite his best efforts to the contrary.

William looked down at him, something inside breaking at the sight and sound of his soft crying. He wanted to comfort him, but it wasn't in his nature to do so. It was one task for which he felt horribly inept and unprepared. "Come, Grell," he finally said, extending his hand as he had seen the Undertaker do.

Grell looked up at him and wiped his eyes. "I want to go to Uncle Undie," he whimpered.

"I know you do," William answered softly, "And we can figure out some way that you can later."

"Do you promise?" Grell asked, slowly standing to his feet and examining William's face carefully.

"I promise to try."

"Okay," Grell said, seemingly satisfied. He stepped forward and took William's hand before they turned and started slowly back to dispatch. In that moment, feeling those tiny fingers inside of his grasp, William understood Undertaker's desire to protect him, and he vowed to do all he could to not let either one of them down.