Fading Red Chapter 4: To Die – to Live, a kuroshitsuji fanfic

A/N: I know I've already said it a couple of times, but to make it clear: in one of my older stories I fantasized about Grell's past. In that story I used the idea that some human's after death become shinigami. So before he died Grell lived with his family of three sisters and his mother. This should explain some of the Grell's flashbacks in this chapter.

I thank those readers who commented on the previous chapter. And also those who added my story to their favourites and story alerts, though you know every author wants to get reviews as well;)

Chapter 4

To Die – to Live.

It was two days since Grell had last seen Ronald; the air headed blond probably had loads of work and was too busy to visit. Grell was bored, he didn't want to go out when there was no one he could excitedly talk to, pointing out beautiful or ugly attires of the noblemen, speaking so loudly that it attracted attention of people on the streets. Ronald was a good company, and he also was the only company Grell had. He thought so many times about how had his life been before the accident that made him loose his memories. Of course there were those visions of blood soaked rooms and bodies of women disfigured so badly it was impossible to tell one from another, there were flashes of fire and so many deaths, quick and painless, tortured and agonizing. But there should have been something apart from that, shouldn't it? If those were his memories, did it mean his whole life consisted of murder? It didn't scare him, did not bother at all, but it did sadden Grell. Because then his life must have been so lonely…

Grell didn't want to be lonely, he wanted to have someone by his side. Just to speak to, to listen to, to touch and be touched in return.

His room, though with so little space, was so empty. He liked it at night more, because when the light of the sun wasn't illuminating every corner, mercilessly killing all the shadows, Grell could pretend he wasn't alone in the room. Every person probably would be terrified at the idea that someone was hiding in the darkness but not him. He liked it.

Grell looked around the room again, loving the way bands of pale moonlight crossed bands of warm yellow light of the street lights on the floor. Wind caused the curtains to whip back and forth, the sound – a lulling whisper to Grell's mind. He rolled onto his back, too lazy to undress and get under the cover even though he was feeling sleepy already. He wished he would not be alone…

William's mind was screeching, questioning his sanity what the hell was he doing, standing there under the window of Grell's room with full intention to enter. He wanted to talk to the ex-shinigami, needed to see him. That was so out of character for him. The worst part though was that he fully understood that and still stayed there, gathering his courage.

The Undertaker had said that Grell, without his memories of soul reaping was turning human. There was a very high probability that if William visited him it would be such a fleeting meeting that he'd forget about it by the morning. Ronald also claimed that even though he saw Grell almost every day the other had troubles with memory, which were caused by a fact that meeting other shinigami the red head was acquainted with, was bringing back memories of his shinigami life, but those were quickly suppressed by human nature.

Those were just excuses, William understood. Excuses that helped him talk himself into seeing Grell.

Entering from the window was far from polite, but it was easier for him and also added a touch of mystery to this visit. He secretly hoped that Grell would take it as a surreal dream.

A second later he was on the windowsill, squinting to see inside the dimly lit room. He jumped down noiselessly and his gaze was immediately driven to the left, where the bed stood. A vague shape laid there and bright eyes stared back at him. William suddenly remembered how Ronald described the way Grell's eyes were loosing color, changing to a bottle green, more common for humans, but at that moment two yellow green orbs shone brighter than the light of a candle they reflected. It was beautiful and a little scary, sending excited shiver down William's spine. He turned bodily so he would fully face the figure on the bed. He stood and waited while the figure stretched lazily, not bothered at all by a stranger in a room, and half-sat, gathering covers around themselves. A pale hand extended in his direction and then patted on the spot near Grell on the bed. William complied without asking any questions and perched on the corner carefully.

"So, why are you here?" Grell asked curiously, the tone of his voice too calm for the situation.

"You are not going to ask me who I am first?" William counter-asked as calmly.

"I know who you are," the man replied in a voice of a child proud of his knowledge. "I remember you."

"You do?" The dark haired shinigami asked with cold skepticism, he wasn't sure in his decision to come here any more.

Grell moved, leaning on both hands to get closer to William, and studied the other's face. His gaze flew over the dark haired man's features, recognizing or maybe memorizing. The invasion of personal space was undeniable and William drove back as a habit, leaning on the wall, willing his body to relax. As soon as he moved a light of the candle on the bedside table illuminated Grell's figure, his face, pale but without those awful scratches, hair falling into his eyes. Only then did the shinigami saw what Ronald was constantly wining about. Grell's hair were not magnificent red any more, dull brown strands fell over his shoulders, almost the same color as his waistcoat. It made William's heart clench painfully as it brought a realization that Grell was changing. They talked about it so many times with Ronald and the Undertaker but only now it became real. Grell was human.

"Kind of," the ex-shinigami murmured, answering William's question. His right hand lifted and traced dark haired man's cheekbone, slowly going higher up and stumbling over the rim of black glasses. A sense of déjà vu washed over him as Grell took off the glasses carefully, almost the same way he did it on the night he lost his memory. Now though instead of keeping them to himself he put the glasses on the bedside table, soon they were joined by Grell's own ones.

Grell's hands rested on his face. As an answering gesture William gently took a strand of brown hair, resting on the other's shoulder, caressing it between his fingertips.

"I remember you. Everything is a little blurry, but I remember. Better now when you are right in front of me," Grell's eyes bore into his with intensity.

"Good," William said, putting a stand of hair behind Grell's ear. It felt nice. "Maybe you even know my name."

He smirked as Grell's eyes clouded, mind returning back to the past in search of that small detail.

"Will," he answered with a smirk of his own.

"William," the dark haired man corrected.

Grell shook his head, making his hair fall out of place again; a smirk transformed into a small smile. With a chance to study that face up close William decided the other man was attractive, but with a life buzzing in his yellow green eyes and red hair flying around a face adorned with an insane smile Grell was beautiful. With regret the dark haired shinigami stated that that image was lost forever.

"William sounds too formal," Grell chastised, breaking in the middle of the other man's thoughts. "I like Will more."

William rolled his eyes as he always did when his red haired subordinate said something stupid, which was, unfortunately, every second thing that left his mouth.

"Are you going to answer my first question?" Grell asked leaning closer to William, resting his weight on a hand near other man's thigh. "Why did you come?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing," William replied calmly. Despite their position he wasn't feeling uncomfortable with Grell so close, a move forward and the other man would be half leaning on his lap.

The ex-shinigami chuckled and nodded as if the words made much sense to him. After that he whispered:

"So, what do you think? Am I doing good?" It was scary how one moment Grell was a complete stranger and the other he turned into the little flamboyant nuisance William knew so well. Constant flirting was the most annoying feature of the red haired shinigami, and it seemed nothing, even a memory loss, could change that.

"You tell me."

With a dramatic sigh Grell collapsed onto William and after a minute of wiggling got comfortable, lying on his back with his head on the other man's lap. Brown long hair was sprawled all over William's black trousers, red coat covered Grell's body as a blanket, he was relaxed and calm, staring up at the ceiling.

"Do you have friends?" He asked suddenly as his eyes refocused on William.

"No." The dark haired shinigami wasn't sure if his relationship with Ronald could be considered as friendship. The closest person to a friend he had ever had was probably Grell Sutcliff, but that did not bother him. William lived for his work. Until the madness with Grell loosing his memory had started, the dark haired shinigami had not even for a moment thought about the lack of social interaction in his life.

"Don't you ever feel lonely?" Grell's quiet voice inquired.

William didn't answer. The question was too complicated to fit in the answer of a one simple word. He tried not to think about it during long work nights, when he was the only one left in the office.

"I do," the ex-shinigami admitted, he sounded almost meek.

William's gaze slid from the grey wall ahead to a face of the man on his knees. Grell was looking back at him, serious and tired. He reached with one hand and tugged on William's tie, loosening it, then unbuttoned first two buttons of the white shirt of the shinigami. Satisfied with the result he threw both hands over his head so they dangled from the edge of the bed.

"I do get lonely. A lot," Grell repeated. "Ronald comes to visit sometimes and that nice policeman came to see if I was coping, but it's not enough…You know? I want someone to be with me all the time, if not in body then at least in mind. I'm tired of unfulfilled promises and meetings that never happen. You understand?"

The last question was delivered with worry, as if it was essential that William understood Grell. The dark haired shinigami nodded, in a strange twisted way it made sense.

"I probably want what most people call love." Grell whispered the last word, as if afraid to taint its sacral meaning by saying it aloud. "Have you ever felt it?"

"I don't think so," William replied truthfully. He wasn't sure in his own feelings at that moment. Being in a half-dark room with only one candle to illuminate his interlocutor felt beautifully confusing, heady appealing.

"I don't think I have as well. But I think I might. Sometime."

Grell's eyes stared without blinking at William, so intense, so alive with emotions. It was a captivating sight; William wouldn't be able to turn away even if his life depended on it. Probably in some sense, it did. It was so obvious that for William it'd be better to get up and leave; this talk whatever it'd end with would be destructive for him.

"But I want even more than that. Am I not greedy?" Grell asked with a teasing smile that showed off his teeth a bit. It came as a cruel reminding of the reality for William, because Grell's teeth were not sharp and pointy but almost normal.

"What do you want then?"

"I want to be adored," the man replied, his lips stretching into an impossibly wide grin and eyes shining in the dark.

William considered his words silently. Yes, it was so much like Grell to wish for passion and love and adoration all in one. He wanted to be swept off his feet by a hurricane of feelings. All of them for only one person. A person who'd love him with the same crazy devotion.

"Don't you want it?" Grell mumbled and turned on his side, right hand clutching the fabric of William's trousers.

The dark haired shinigami did not reply, to answer right now was too much for him. He just watched as Grell yawned tiredly and his eyes drooped while he waited for what William would say. The silence stretched, neither of them breaking it.

"Don't you?" The ex-shinigami repeated barely audibly and his clutch on William's trousers weakened. He had fallen asleep.

William sat unmoving and just watched him. Grell changed but at the same time he stayed faithful to his own self. The dark haired man gently put away a strand of brown hair covering half of the other's face, his fingers sliding over cold skin in process.

There was no use in staying, William reminded himself. He had talked to Grell and now when the other was soundly asleep he should leave. Finally listening to a voice of reason the dark haired man carefully maneuvered the other's head so it rested on the pillow and stood up from the bed carefully as not to wake him.

Standing by the bed he couldn't help but to throw one last glance at the man. Grell looked exhausted and so far from a lively shinigami William remembered, it was impossible to believe he was the same being. But that did not mean he still wasn't beautiful, at least not to William.

Deciding that he was already so far gone that nothing would destroy him further William leaned over the sleeping form of Grell and quickly but very gently pressed his lips to Grell's. Unresponsive, cold and chapped they still felt wonderful. Moving back William let his hand linger on the side of the other's face. When the contact was broken he exited the room the same way he entered, reminding himself Grell probably wouldn't remember him by morning.

The smell of wood was dominating in the workshop. Rows of freshly made coffins took almost all the space, and had Ronald been a human he'd have felt very uncomfortable standing in the middle, surrounded by them.

"Well, what is the purpose of your visit?" Breathless voice of the Undertaker was heard and the man's head appeared from behind one of the coffins. He was still laughing at the joke the blond had told him, something the other shinigami promised would be just perfect. Personally Ronald thought it's was more stupid than funny, but his opinion didn't matter.

"I came to talk about Grell. Again."

"I think I told you everything the first time," the Undertaker replied, leaning heavily on the coffin and getting up.

"I need…more." Ronald hesitated in the middle but his resolve returned quickly when he remembered his friend. "I need to know a way to help him."

"If you want to find a cure," the silver haired man prolonged the last word. "There is none."

"But there must be something! Anything!" Ronald objected, taking a step to the Undertaker but bumping into the coffin on his way. He looked down at it angrily.

"There is no way to fight the effects of whatever was done to him."

"But he can't stay human! It's not right," Ronald insisted with passion. He was clutching his hands at his sides, stressed and desperate to find an answer.

The Undertaker regarded him with interest, head falling on one side. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and then pointed one black-painted finger at the blond.

"You have to decide what you want first," he replied. "Do you want to reverse the effects or do you want him to become a shinigami again?"

"Anything," Ronald answered.

"Well first is impossible," the Undertaker mused. "The second is very unlikely."

"Unlikely but not impossible?" The blond caught the hint. "He can become a shinigami again."

The Undertaker nodded slowly, watching the younger man.

"How?" Ronald asked so quietly it was barely audible, the tension made his throat contract almost painfully as he gulped waiting for the answer.

Undertaker's serious voice resonated in the quietness of the workshop:

"There is only one way to become a shinigami. And you already know it."

It was already evening, the sun about to set, but the heat of the day still lingered in the air. The day had been warm, too warm at some point, and even hidden from the sunlight in his room Grell felt suffocated. There was no wind to bring relief, the white curtains did not stir and from time to time Grell grabbed the right corner of the curtain and flopped it just to create some resemblance to a small wind. Staying indoors was becoming impossible.

By the end of the day, when there was no sunlight to heat up the earth, the long awaited cool still did not come. A decision that a walk could do some good seemed illogical since it involved moving, which Grell wasn't fond of during the day, but he couldn't stand being inside this flat for any longer.

The city was still full of people buzzing around, all so busy. Only Grell wandered the streets aimlessly, hoping to escape the pressing heat. He was starting to feel sick. As he took a new turn a low roar of thunder was heard from afar, making the ex-shinigami smile. Finally something good was going to happen. Rain and thunderstorms would be more then welcome after days of sunny weather.

William stood in the middle of an empty room. Succumbing to the strong desire to see Grell again, he went there the moment he got a chance to escape his office. Practically he was breaking the code, because it was his night shift and he had to be reaping souls. Anxiousness mixed with excitement of ignoring his work for the first time in centuries instantly turned into worry as he crossed the windowsill and looked around the room in search for the ex-shinigami. Grell was not there.

Ronald knocked on the door, three sharp bangs betraying his nervous condition, and waited for Grell to open the door. After a second the door was swung open sharply but not by the occupant of the room.

"William?" The blond asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Where is Grell?" The dark haired shinigami ignored the question addressed to him and stepped out of the flat, closing the door after.

"Not inside?"

"No." William replied impatiently. Wasn't it already obvious? "Where is he?"

"I don't know." Ronald answered. "He might have just gone for a walk. I'm sure there is nothing to worry about…"

The blond tried to persuade his boss even though he himself wasn't confident in his words. An unfathomable worry was making him want to run outside and just rush around the streets of London in search of Grell. William was looking at him, contemplating.

"Of course," he agreed reluctantly. "Nothing to worry about. Better get back to work then."

"It's my night off," Ronald admitted. "I'll probably just wait for Grell here."

William nodded in acknowledgment, silently agreeing that it'd be a good idea. He stepped away from the door, letting the blond pass. In process the dark haired shinigami took a book with names of the ones whose souls he had to take that nigh from the breast pocket of his jacket.

"Good luck with your work." Ronald commented and opened the door.

William nodded in thanks, not caring if the other had seen the gesture or not, he was already in his working mood, listing the book, looking for a right page. Ronald eyed him, smiling slightly in admiration to his boss's dedication to soul reaping. Then the blond turned around, as he was about to close the door to Grell's flat William's voice called out to him.

"Ronald!" It was said in a loud tense tone, which made the blond turn immediately and look in William's suddenly pale face. With his eyes alone he asked what the other wanted, but the dark haired shinigami just took a step to him, showing him the book.

A name of Grell Sutcliff was written in it at the top of the list.

Rain had started half an hour ago, bringing a chill Grell longed for for a whole day. Thunder was heard occasionally, but obviously it was roaming the other side of the city and probably would not reach this until morning. The ex-shinigami was sitting at the side of now completely empty road, starring at the water running over bricks of the roadway, mixing with dirt.

Grell clutched his head between his hands, while his elbows rested on his knees. Even the rain could not bring relief to a terrible headache that started as he exited the park and stepped into a smaller alley to avoid the crowd. It hurt so much, he felt like his mind was being torn in two. The sounds of the storm attacked his pain-sharpened senses and he desperately tried to block out the sound. Cold water ran down his spine, soaking through to wet his red coat and white shirt, but it was nice and cooling. His brown hair was plastered to his forehead and fell into his eyes, as a curtain between him and the world of blinding lightning.

His mind was full of images, reality and dreams meshed together and mixing to a point where it was impossible to tell one from another. His eyes saw a city being drowned in heavy rainfall but in his thoughts the same city was burning in a wild fire, a picture so real that it felt like the raindrops were in fact spurts of flame touching his skin, burning it.

He looked at the ground and the running water turned crimson, flows of blood gathering under his feet. A bolt of lightning arched across the sky, and for a moment he was sure that in the sky lit in white light he had seen a figure of and angel fighting a man. They disappeared as quickly as they appeared, replaced by a figure of a beautiful woman all dressed in red. She was saying something, tears running down her cheeks. Grell was torn between wanting to comfort her and needing to pierce her heart as a punishment for a moment of weakness. His hands twitched, letting go of wet hair, and he reached for something…something that should always be with him. An object, dear to him, incredibly important.

He stood up slowly, an action taking too much effort and his legs trembled as he took one step and stopped unable to continue. His eyes didn't leave the figure in red, which stood beautiful, untouched by the rain. He blinked and she was already leaning over a corpse of a young woman sprawled on the pavement in a pool of her own blood. The picture was mesmerizing, woman in red so passionate in her own perfect murder, but then she turned and Grell thought she had noticed him. But no, she was looking up at the roof of the building, terrified of being caught. Grell took two shaking steps to her but she already disappeared replaced by another figure: a lost and scared girl. Grell knew her from a life where the woman in red never existed. He reached to the girl, a look of helpless horror on her pretty face bringing up only fear in him. She needed his help, she was important; he loved her with all his heart and tenderness. The girl was his family.

Grell stumbled over the stones of the road, almost falling on his face, but spreading his arms he managed to catch balance. When he lifted his eyes back to the girl, she was joined by two more. They were screaming but he didn't hear a sound.

Grell's breath was ragged; he could barely breathe through his fear. They needed his help and he was absolutely useless.

"No!" He shouted the only word on his mind. And suddenly the word around him, a mixture of London's streets and grim buildings with village scenery between them, titled and swayed and he was surrounded by the fire. He could feel neither rain nor the tears running down his face.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Ronald asked doubtfully as they appeared on the street very much the same like many others.

"Yes," William snapped, looking around, eyes searching for the ex-shinigami. "This address is in the book. He must be here. Or he soon will be."

Ronald nodded and walked ahead. It was good that the book provided all the information needed to find the soul the shinigami had to take, but it'd be so much better if Grell's name had not appeared in it at all. His eye caught a lonely figure in the middle of the road and even though the outline was blurry he knew it was Grell, everyone else was hiding from the storm indoors.

"William!" He called to the other shinigami while running to his friend.

Grell made an awful sight. He was wet to the core, clothes clinging to his skinny frame, brown hair, a shade darker from the rain, half covered his face and fell over his shoulder in one messy cascade. He was kneeling on the ground, a gaze of desperate green eyes fixed on a thin air while he mouthed something, pale from the cold lips repeating one word over and over.

"Grell!" It was the dark haired shinigami who shouted but it had no effect.

"What's happening to him?" Ronald asked as he watched Grell attempt to stand up but fail and fall back to his knees.

"This must be what the Undertaker predicted: his human memories conflicting with memories of his shinigami life. His mind can't take it." William wasn't able to continue, he didn't want to be the one to announce Grell's fate. The figure before them was so weak and vulnerable, it made William's heart ache.

"Grell," he called again softly, just merely heard over the rain.

The ex-shinigami lifted his eyes and glanced at them. It was a good sign that he recognized their presence, but he still didn't recognize them. He looked at them with scared eyes of a victim, pupils dilated and running from one shinigami to another.

"I'm Ronald, remember? And this is William," the blond introduced, imitating William's soft tone and approached slowly, cautious not to scare the other off.

Grell gulped, eyes fixed on the blond now, but still not letting the dark haired man escape his line of vision; but he did not bolt, nor did he react violently. He just sat there and waited for what the blond would do next.

"Remember us?" Ronald repeated and when the ex-shinigami gave a small nod, smiled at his friend. "Good. Come on. Get up."

Ronald stood in front of him, with William just a step behind, and extended a hand for Grell to take. But the ex-shinigami shook his head.

"Why are you here?" He asked with a slight tremor in his voice, but in other aspects he seemed fine. It looked like the moment of madness had passed when his mind had something to concentrate on.

"To help you," William replied, he stood beside Ronald now. "Just let us."

And with that the dark haired shinigami got down on one knee before Grell. He offered a hand which the other took tentatively. Grell's pale long fingers were icy cold and his hand was shaking as William carefully closed his fingers over it.

"I can't understand…what is going on." The ex-shinigami whispered. "There is so many of them, different, contradicting."

"Memories?" Ronald asked, he sounded defeated.

Grell nodded, his fingers clutched William's hand painfully.

"William," Ronald started saying and when he got a nod of acknowledgment from the man he continued. "The Undertaker said that there is only one way to become a shinigami."

William didn't answer but Ronald could see the way his shoulders tensed, he understood what that implied. The dark haired man reached with his left hand to hold the side of Grell's face, putting aside wet strands of brown hair and warming frozen skin.

"This is not an option."

"There is no other option," Ronald could not believe he was saying that.

Grell watched their interaction with interest, hoping they'd know a way to help him, to rid him from the feeling of sickness and of the unbearable migraine tormenting him even now. He watched the dark haired man who stared back at him. William…Will…Grell gasped as a new wave of memories assaulted his mind, all them including this stranger. The moment it started those memories were swept by other images. And it hurt. Hurt so much he could not cope anymore, let alone focus on the conversation between the two.

"Help me," he pleaded. "Please."

"William-" Ronald was about to plead as well but the dark haired man beaten him to it.

"We can not do this!" William snapped, turning away from Grell to glare at the blond.

"It's in the book. No matter what we do he'd die."

"But we can't kill him!"

"It is the only way to become a shinigami! To die!"

They both were shouting, there was nothing left from the ever composed William and always cheerful Ronald.

"There is no guarantee that he'd become one."

"He'd go insane otherwise." Ronald protested, even though he didn't want to do this as much as William. "It's a risk but…"

But it can bring us back Grell Sutcliff. It hung in the air between them. Their general desire. Selfish wish to bring that man back.

"Please," Grell's weak voice repeated. "Do it. Kill me."

The other two turned in stunned silence. They weren't aware that Grell was listening their conversation, that he was straining to hear and understand because no matter the price he wanted the pain and confusion gone. Be it death or something else, he could not care anymore.

"Kill me," he said steadily, staring intently in William's eyes.

The dark haired shinigami let go of him reluctantly and slowly, never breaking eye contact stood up. He shook his head and took a step back. The denial only angered Grell.

"You are pathetic," he sneered, fury taking over his heart. "Just do it."

"I can't."

"Kill me."

"Grell…"

"Kill me!"

They stared at each other in silence. Then Grell threw his head back, a hysterical laughter felling the street, resonating from the walls and returning to join the original sound. When he looked back, the expression on his face was a mixture of determination and anger.

"Kill-"

He didn't get to finish because in that second a death scythe pierced his heart. William gripped his weapon tightly, determined not to show how badly his hands were shaking, while he watched Grell's blood bathing his scythe. Surprise was etched across Grell's features, eyes open wide, but a tentative smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he fell back on the pavement.

William let go of the weapon letting it fall with a clattering sound. Both he and Ronald, glued to their spots, terrified to come closer, watched the blood flow from the wound on Grell's chest. Crimson created a pattern as it ran in streams between bricks of the roadway, mixing with rain. The deep red of the blood soaked in the brown hair, coloring it.

The two shinigami waited. Grell struggled for his last breath, it seemed like he wanted to say something but his body wasn't listening to him any more.

William watched him, not sure if he had a right to kneel near his sprawled form and maybe hold his already impossibly cold hand after what he had done. But in the next moment the cinematic records appeared and easily finding the right memory William saw what had happened to Grell that made him loose memory.

A dark alley ending in a dead end. Late cloudy evening, the moonlight blocked by the clouds. Two figures in the alley, two voices interacting. One excited and overly loud, bordering on screeching, proclaiming admiration. Another – cold and uninterested, still polite but with a dangerous edge to it. Grell Sutcliff and SebastianMichaelis.

The demon was carrying a large suitcase on his back and obviously was trying to avoid whatever conversation Grell wanted to start. The shinigami, oblivious as ever continued his questions, prevented sometimes by his own admiring exclamations. He seemed very interested in the contents of the suitcase. Sebastian's frown was enough indication that the demon didn't like the probing. At some line crassly thrown by Grell the demon sprinted into action, jumping in the air and onto the roof of the nearest building, probably deciding that the red head was not worth the trouble of fighting him.

Grell frowned at his actions and not wasting a second followed him, hitting Sebastian in the mid jump and making the demon land back in the alley. This was a start of the fight. They attacked each other, Grell hitting the demon in the chest then jumping away as the other swung his arm to get hold of him. Grell turned on the spot, ready to deliver a spectacular punch but Sebastian caught his hair and yanked, making the other stumble. The red head fell but was back on his feet quickly, but did not have time to duck as the demon lashed out, right hand going for Grell's face. When the demon stepped aside there was a long cut, decorating Grell's left cheek.

"Your behavior is becoming too troublesome for me." And he reached for Grell again, not giving the man any time to get ready for the next attack, grabbed the other by the forehead. After a minute Grell fell to the ground unconscious.

William tore his eyes from the memory replaying before him. There was no place for worry in his heart at the moment as he looked in Grell's pale face, his lifeless broken figure. The only sound was the rain as Ronald and William waited.