Chapter Seven

The red reaper began to toss and turn a little in this sleep. Will had brought his work into the bedroom, where he sat in a chair, observing Grell for the past few hours. It looked like a never-ending bad dream. Gently, when he could take no more, Spears shook Grell.

"No! Stop, please. Not my-" Grell's eyes shot open, and he remembered vividly what he had been dreaming and the fact he'd been yelling out his words.

"Face..." he brought his hand up, grabbed the mirror, and looked at himself again. He unraveled the bandage around his right arm and with one crack, he was able to move it without much hesitation. Reapers could heal faster than humans, that much was certain, and with the bone set, all it took was his final cracking to release the healed pressure. Now, it was just sore.

"Did you see anything else?" Will asked, not addressing Sutcliff's random outburst.

"An engine maybe and a long blade," Grell sighed, more tears running down his face from before and some new. He stared into nothing. "That's all that's there, but the knife was long."

"Grell," Will said, sitting next to him. "I'm sorry." The red reaper swallowed, pulling Will down onto the bed with him.

"Sutcliff, what are you-"

"It feels better," Grell interrupted, leaning onto him. "At least I'm no longer alone."

Sears sighed, adjusting for comfort by placing one of his arms around Sutcliff's back as gently as he could, and he already felt Grell's tears seeping through his collar shirt he'd previously changed into. With his right arm straight above and left across Will's chest, both bodies could feel as Grell began to relax more from the dream.

William didn't know Grell could be affected so easily by one ambush. Something more must have happened. This wasn't like him at all. There was something tormenting him, and he couldn't cease the dreaming after he'd begun to breathe in his sleep. Dreams are uncommon, however some reapers may dream if they stay breathing long enough in their sleep to remember.

He still couldn't understand. Grell was alone the moment he came to be a reaper, and this fact never upset him so much before. Spears comprehended that Grell was just using this as an excuse to get close, that sounded more like him. Still, Spears couldn't help but note the way Grell latched onto him. If there was one aspect of the Grim Reapers that could ever resonate with humans, it would be the ability to draw emotion. Most of the time, Spears avoided his because he could and it was part of his job, but Sutcliff thrived upon emotion. It was the way he existed on the earth, reacting to the things around him.

Differences were everywhere on this red reaper today, but there was something eccentric about all this. Spears finally got the answer looking at Grell's fingernails. Not only were they cracked, chipped, and one was split, but there was blood stained all across the inside. Staring at them some more, this told William many things. First of all, Grell had no weapon to defend himself. If he did, that weapon was taken from him so he was forced to resort to fingernails and teeth. Second, Sutcliff had succeeded in drawing some blood from the attacker, enough to have it under his nails.

Too bad there was no way to match the blood patterns. He needed to find the assailant to match the wounds. Even so, Grell would need to remember more than just engines and knives. If there was just one piece of the fight that allowed him to escape, Will would be in much better shape.

But finally, William had to take this into account. The nails Sutcliff had always maintained have just gone to ruin. He was desperate. Grell said he was tied, so it was also possible the blood could be his own if he tried to get out of bondage. Either way, there was no rope in sight anymore. Part of his mind had convinced him that Grell doesn't want to remember this, and so the memory was being pushed as deep as he could get it to be buried. Humans performed a similar task but only after a serious event. At least no one was drunk.

Once Grell was finally asleep, Spears reached for the phone and requested every profile page of every reaper in his division. He needed to be sure one of his was not responsible for this. Knowing it was possible anyone could get a hold of a knife, he needed to focus on the engine part of Grell's recollections.

Quietly, Spears released the red reaper's hold of him to answer the door, where he specifically requested that Lisa not make a sound upon her arrival.

"Here," she said, handing him a large stack of papers and in the other bag she'd brought with her contained each death scythe and their registrations of authorization. He thanked her for her contribution, stating he could not discuss the matter in which he needed these profiles.

"They will be returned by tomorrow afternoon," Will said before closing the door. He returned to the room, thinking about climbing back into the bed where Grell was now fast asleep. Deciding against it, he simply began with each reaper under his division who owned a death scythe with a motor attached to it.

Knowing fully well this weapon may not be authorized, Spears was prepared for overtime, as usual. With Grell like this, he wasn't sure when the reaper would be returning for soul collections and his own had to be halted as well now. Other reapers were notified of the temporary overtime hours, which he also knew a few would not respond well too, especially Knox.

After half of the profiles had been scanned and some deleted off the suspect list because of death scythe style, William had climbed back into bed where he was growing quite tired himself. Lazily, an arm came to wrap around his form. Grell had woken and was already hanging on him.

"What are you doing?" he asked sleepily, leaning onto Will's shoulder.

"Finding out who the hell did this to you," Spears replied casually. "If it was another reaper, sanctions must be issued, and I will not be taking this lightly." Grell looked up at him.

"Will?" he asked. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"It is my job as your manager to make sure you don't get yourself killed."

"I was off the clock wasn't I?" Grell mentioned. "So, you wouldn't have to do this."

What the red reaper said was partially true. It was an outside of work experience, be that as it may a bad one. Technically, Spears had nothing to do with this, yet here he was, Grell in his bed, next to him as he read through profiles and death scythe models.

His left arm came around Grell as he set the next profile aside into the pile dictating that this person was highly unlikely to have committed this heinous act.

"You may do some things that are personally annoying and get yourself into trouble, but this was not your fault, and without knowing who attacked you, I cannot risk you returning to work," William explained. "Your attempted assassin might be just around the corner."

"So...you bring me here?"

"Like I'd trust anyone else to keep an eye on you," Will replied. Grell came in closer.

"It will get better," Will said.

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes. Most importantly, it's certainty."

Sutcliff let a tear fall from the corner of his eye, allowing it to land on William's collar shirt. Another fell, and he was just letting it go.

"Will..." Grell was near to choking on his own tears while the black reaper simply stared at another profile page. "Don't leave me."

He glanced to see Sutcliff drenching the side of his sleeve, and whenever he blinked, more fluid drained from his eyes. Luckily, he wasn't wearing his spectacles. Just like Sutcliff to get all emotional on him. Sighing, Will could not believe he was having this tonight, or ever for that matter.

There was emotion within William T. Spears, and it was beginning to awaken after years of being caged in his chest. It began as a procedure for Grell's protection by the agency he had to fulfill, but inside, Spears knew this was Ronald's doing. Knox was never one for overtime, and Grell's crafty work normally landed others in that exact position. But giving Knox all that overtime wasn't good for his mood. In addition to Grell's attendance at the testing ceremony, Knox couldn't have been too happy at all. Knowing the red reaper's weaknesses wasn't very difficult, he exploited them often quite frankly.

Spears never had a problem with Ronald, except his rushing through work and sloppy reports and non-existent progress. Never was there an issue with another reaper to a magnitude such as this. Knox didn't seem like the type to try to kill another reaper. Everyone had the capacity, Spears supposed, and whatever he did to Grell, it was literally haunting him.

Grell had never been so shaken.

"Grell," Will said. "Did he...do anything else to you? Your attacker?"

Sutcliff's eyes averted the instant Will met them, and he didn't say anything.

"Grell..." Will prompted. "I need to know. Is there anything else you remember?"

Sutcliff got out of the bed, staring at the floor. Slowly, he took off the red jacket and began to unbutton his vest.

"What are you doing Sutcliff?"

Grell remained silent as he continued to strip himself of his vest and undershirt. He exposed upon his body the cuts of the blades, each one healing over. Unexpectedly, Sutcliff also dropped his black dress pants and socks. There were cuts along his legs too, and to Will's utmost surprise, the rumor around the office was true. Grell did in fact shave his legs.

But that close shave made the wounds all the more notable.

"Why are there bruises along your thigh?" Will questioned as Grell stood there in silence, complete silence. His hands and body began to shake as Will was starting to catch on.

William stood up, setting the profile promptly aside to take a better look at this red reaper. Grell was tortured, and what was more, if the attacker made that many wounds, they were either highly inexperienced or the intent William previously thought was wrong. A Grim Reaper certainly knows how to kill, so there was only one other option.

"He didn't want to kill you at all," Spears said, placing his hand upon the largest bruise along Grell's right leg. A tear droplet hit his hand. "He tortured you."

"A game, to see how long I'd last," Grell said. Will's head shot up from the wound, looking up at Grell. New information, but the red reaper was already shaking pretty badly. "I was afraid he was going to-"

Will stood up, properly and hastily, grasping Grell into his chest. He recognized the amount of trust Grell was displaying and according to humans in which he observed over the years, hugs were the best for when others became upset.

"He let you go," Will said. "He didn't want to kill you, but you identify him as a man. That's good. Very good."

"I couldn't even see him!" Grell exclaimed, weakening in the knees and nearly collapsing. One of his leg wounds split open, spilling hot liquid to trickle down the rest of the leg.

"There was no escaping that place."

"You're tired...oh my," Will noticed the blood when he looked back down Grell's legs.

He sat the reaper down and grabbed a towel to wipe off the leg. He wrapped it to stop the bleeding and let Sutcliff lay back on the bed. He took his files and took out every female reaper's profile. That left about 75% of the reaper population in the London division. Given those which he already divided, Spears was down to the last 15 reapers to review.

Thus far, 20 suspects including Ronald Knox and the rest could make sense. There were not many reapers with motor powered death scythes or at least what is registered to them. Grell's attacker would have used a death scythe to try and kill him if that's what he was after, and that was all of what reapers had access to as far as motorized objects. Death scythes were the most advanced, and the cuts on Grell were definitely from a finely sharpened blade.

Sobbing beside him the rest of the process, Grell refused to let Will go under any circumstance. Spears set his list to the side, worrying about it tomorrow for now. William found himself not only frustrated but angry. His chest was aching with a burning fire that wasn't calming down. If one of his reapers had done this, especially the one he was thinking of at the moment, he wasn't sure what he would do. However, he was not angry with Grell for sobbing all night, and his rather annoying way of trying to hold in the emotion that so clearly defined him. He was angry with whomever did this, for what happened to Grell in the first place.

Undertaker found the reaper in a run off for heaven's sake! He'd been deliberately tortured, left to flee for his life, and then ended up in run off, lying there in his own blood and sweat, left for dead. Death was not known to any reaper, for they could not die except by special circumstances and critical blows. If there was no death for Sutcliff, he was thus forced to lie in pain, worthless and most of all helpless. A pain apparently so unbearable Undertaker had to put Grell to sleep before the reaper passed out himself.

William wiped the tears from Grell's face along the stitched markings of his face.

"Does it hurt?" he asked. The reaper looked up, taking a break from the tears and allowing himself to cease and let out a few deep breaths. Spears' hand graced across the mark, feeling how it was glossed with salty tears.

"Not when you touch it."