Sebastian valued his very few days off. Days when his young master would be away on business… And by business, that meant he was having one of his 'dates' with Lady Elizabeth. The demon was relaxed with the other servants off in other places. Mey-Rin and Bard had booked a small cottage in the resort of Houndsworth that the Young Mater had previously acquired. Those two, with Tanaka and Finnian, left the manor in the care of Sebastian, William and Pluto.
Eric Slingby, not yet disgraced shinigami from dispatch, knew this was coming for a week, and called forward Grell, Ronald and Alan. The blonde shinigami had watched from afar for some time before he deemed the house ready for attack. The demon was relaxed, William was resting, and the demon dog was significantly distracted with the demon. He had suggested that they just throw a cat at the demon and grab William and run like hell.
"That won't work," Grell had said. "He'll notice and come after us. We have to defeat him fair and take William back ourselves."
"Boss would be mad if we didn't kick that beast's ass. He'd give us overtime," Ron said with a smile.
"You're just out for revenge," Alan had countered.
"Yes, but he deserves it!"
There was silence. "I'll go and watch them, then. I'll give you anything that might be a good date to.." Eric paused.
"Kick ass?" Ronald suggested.
"Yeah.. Go kick ass." Eric smiled slightly, grabbed his saw, and left for the house. But that had been almost a week ago. Steadying himself, he looked back. Alan was there already. He waited for a minute before he heard the usual roar of the motor coming to a stop behind him. "Hey Ron."
"Hey Eric-senpai." Ronald was smiling, fresh and ready for a fight.
"Where's Grell?"
Ronald scratched the back of his head, giving a nervous laugh. "Well…"
"I'M HERE!" the shinigami shouted, dropping from the sky. He landed, striking his signature pose, and then went to business leaning on a tree. Pulling out a nail file, he began cleaning dirt from under his perfect manicure, frowning. "When are we going at it with the demon?"
"As soon as your done doing your nails," Eric growled. Looking out at the garden, he looked back to his companions.
"Well~ I want to take on my Sebas-chan. You and Alan can have the demon hound. Ronald will go after Willu~"
"You're sure that's a good idea, Suttcliff senpai? Can you handle…. Sebas-chan?" Ronald sounded distinctly uncomfortable having to tackle the task of restraining his boss. Something that would normally land him in hot water.
Alan put a hand on Ron's shoulder and the four of them looked out at the manor. "Just where is the boss?"
Eric pointed into the house. "He's in there, asleep. Seems to do that a lot after working and being plowed into his bed by the demon in one day." Ronald snickered, Alan looked disgusted, and Grell's face turned redder than his hair before blanching with either anger jealousy.
"Let's get a move on! We are shinigami for DEATH!" He made his pose before angrily barging out into the garden, revving his chainsaw. No warning, swinging for Sebastian's head. The demon ducked, twisting away from the shinigami. Pluto came running. Eric and Alan threw themselves in the way, blocking the demon hound's strike, their scythes flashing in the sunlight, not allowing the dog to get any closer. It was insanely dangerous, should the hound come to it's larger form. Eric glanced at Alan, who nodded. The pair leapt at him, avoiding fiery blasts. The howling demon went down in a spurt of blood caused by Alan's blade. Eric stood on top of the dog. It howled and whined in pain, trying to shove away its captors.
Sebastian barely glanced over, unimpressed with Pluto's defense. It was pathetically over played, but the demon hound did as he was told. It was Sebastian's job to defend his pet. Dodging the shinigami's every sweeping blow, his frown never left his face. Grell was angry, baring teeth, swinging his chainsaw maniacally, hoping for the demon to lose his footing. "WHY IS HE SO IMPORTANT?" the shinigami screamed. Finally, Sebastian smirked.
"Because he doesn't want it."
Sebastian's words stunned the reaper, who thought about it. For a moment, he considered to stop attacking the demon.. And then remember that his boss was being retrieved by Ronald and that he had to keep going. He was beginning to think that throwing a cat at Sebastian would have been easier and nicer to them. But Sebastian only would have chased them back into their realm.
Ronald made a mad dash into the house, running up the stairs and pulling William from his bed. He grabbed his bosses glasses and scythe, sprinting back down the stairs. William sleepily pushed and shoved at Ronald's head, growling and hissing, unhappy about the closeness that wasn't Sebastian. "Put me down! Ronald Knox put me down this instant!"
"This is for your own good, boss!" Ronald nearly stumbled down the stairs. William held onto the door frame, pulling, struggling.
"NO!" William stood up quickly, moving for his spear. He was in his underwear, and even though that was all, was still imposing. Ronald grabbed his scythe, running at William. The elder shinigami jumped, ramming his spear into the engine, sparks flying, gears grinding. William growled and pulled back, narrowing his eyes. Ronald jumped at him, knocking his glasses off of his face and stealing his spear, watching him search blindly for them. Taking William's glasses, he threw the reaper over his shoulder and grabbed his own scythe, running madly for his life. He tossed the glasses and scythe to Eric, who grabbed them, grabbed Alan, and ran. Grell looked over and saw the sneer on Sebastian's face. Finally cornering him, he put the chainsaw aside and pulled him deadly close.
"What's so funny, demon?"
"Oh, just waiting to see what punishment they have for William."
"What are you talking about?"
"He's mine. The only way you're getting him back is if I release him. And I don't plan on it."
Grell slapped him. Sebastian only laughed, amused, ready to watch the reapers take the plunge into purgatory. "We'll fix him."
"Make me an offer and I'll let him go."
"Never."
Sebastian tilted his head. "I might just show up to watch his trial. Then I might even watch them kill him. I wonder what they'll use. His own scythe. Make you reap him? Or perhaps Ronald? You'll be eternally short staffed!" He laughed, something that sounded sadistic and sickening. "I can't wait. It's all such a thrill!"
"He won't need you if you're not around."
"But I'm inside his head now. I'm everywhere to him. I'm everything he needs and everything he desires. I've become the center of his universe."
Grell shoved Sebastian hard against a tree. "Shut up, beast."
"Oh, I thought I was your Sebas-chan? Why so sour?" He was mocking Grell just to achieve his own ends now, just to make him angrier.
The crimson reaper threw him aside, picking up his chainsaw. "You don't deserve to be touched by this precious instrument. Or me."
"No. But apparently filthier hands do need me." He again made another stab at William's pride that Grell could barely tolerate.
There was silence as Grell walked away. "If they don't kill him, withdrawal will."
"…He'd rather die than remain yours."
"Is that a risk you're willing to take."
"It's not my risk… It's his."
Grell was right about William never wanting to be a demon's pet. He didn't ask for it. The real William would rather die, rather have his glasses broken, rather have overtime, than remain in the demon's possession. But the William they had now would scream and fight. He would be incapable of tolerating being separated from Sebastian. And if he lived, if he woke up.. He wouldn't quite be the same.
There was hushed silence as the four reapers returned with the thrashing, cursing shinigami. He had ceased demanding his master and was now struggling. Fear was gripping him. William was glimpsing the world he had left behind, shinigami, men and women, all staring at him with shock and horror.
Each pair of eyes was a stabbing pain and there was pure humiliation in this. Grell kept his shoulders hunched. Alan passed William's struggling, pulling arms on to Ronald, who gripped his wrists tight. Eric kept William's feet on his shoulders, holding tight to him, keeping with a steady gait as he walked. Their pace seemed slow, but rapid, timed and shocking, and it came by so quickly. Whispers went up at the sight in an instant. William couldn't hear what they were saying, but he felt humiliation and sadness overtake him.
Bitter and angry tears welled up. "Please… master…someone…make it stop.." were his silent words. Alan petted William's mussed hair in a comforting gesture. So much emotion from a man previously stoic, it was enough to bring him to his knees… had he been allowed to stand. He had no control of his body, his limbs. It was just coming back to him that his fears and resentments were true. Everything the nightmare had been composed of was real. He was living in his own hell. He had made the bed… or had let the demon help him.
But his body still struggled and screamed. A prisoner, captured in his own body, he felt hot tears sting his cheeks with anger and loss of dignity. There wouldn't be a shinigami who wouldn't look at him with pity or resentment. The humiliation was too much, and not humbling.
Voice hoarse, he continued to scream, running his throat raw, coughing, crying, nearly suffocating himself in his pain. His arms, weak now with strain and torrents of pulling, were handed to Grell, who handed his scythe over to Ronald. The crimson reaper was kind to him. Even if he were jealous and angry, he was trying to be comforting. Eric put William's feet on Alan's shoulders and took one side. The five man parade made their way through streets and halls.
Through his blurred vision, William could see the lights dimming. The hall suddenly lit and blinded him for a moment. He was sat down in a chair, held there by two sets of firm hands. Grell stepped up. "… We've brought him back."
"He isn't broken of his addiction."
There was silence. "But he's already going through withdrawal. See? He can barely handle himself now."
"..If he goes through withdrawal…that may well kill him. Why not spare him the agony and let us remove him now?"
Grell's face paled and William's heartbeat raced. Fear shot through him and he moved to stand. Ronald and Eric pushed down harshly, keeping him in place. "…Because we believe he can be saved."
"…. You're sure about this? Let us see his eyes."
"We don't thi-"
"Let us see his eyes."
There was silence. "I don't see how that helps."
"It lets us know if withdrawal will kill him. If his eyes hold green, then he can be saved."
"…. William, open your eyes."
The shinigami closed them tightly, shaking his head. His heart pounded in his ears and he was ready to jump up and flee. And he wanted to flee into the first place of comfort. To his horror he found that his mind would have him fleeing into the arms of the demon, and no one else. Then, suddenly, he felt ill, as though he had realized something much worse. He had realized that he was alone. His expression outwardly didn't change. His body was still struggling against all attempts to make him look.
Inwardly, he was dying. A slow, painful, emotional death. There was no one to comfort him. No one to save him. And he was doomed. He would die alone, cold, defeated….by a demon that he so despised. A few tears streaked down William's face, leaving the others to stare with shock. He had ceased struggle and held himself, drawing his knees up, putting his head down, feeling vulnerable, exposed, hated and alone.
Pain wracked him and he looked up, opening his eyes, exposing ringed crimson irises. The blurry council before him was angry, but deliberated before delivering a sentence that William could hear loud and clear.
"It is clear that William T. Spears of management division has become a demon's pet. If he is not disposed of properly, the withdrawal will either drive him into madness, into the arms of the demon again… or into death. Judging the severity of his reactions here today… He will most likely not live through the process. He will be executed in two days time on the dais. It will be announced, and then the execution will take place in private. Due to his outstanding record, he will be given a decent burial and the details of his death will not be released….. You will be sorely missed."
The words fell on William's ears and he sat, but not shocked, not at first. And then, in an instant, he felt betrayed. Secretly he prayed to whomever was listening, begging, to take this all away, make it all some sort of horrific nightmare. Tears streamed from his eyes. He knew what was coming, he understood how death worked, he was part of Dispatch… But the idea that it would come so soon…So harshly…. It made him ill. Leaning back in his chair, he felt Alan's hand on his head again and Ronald's on his shoulder.
"How …How long?" Grell stuttered. There was silence.
"Two days time. We suggest you take him home. We don't have the ability to keep up with him at the hospital. He could very well escape."
The crimson shinigami nodded and glanced at Eric and Ronald, asking them silently to help William up. He was lifted gently and he tried to stand on his own feet. Swaying, they turned their blinded, disgraced and death-sentenced boss toward the door. Each one held a hand on his shoulder. William wanted to sympathize with them, but that was useless, and he knew it. Shuffling his feet, he felt like a prisoner on the Green Mile, ready to walk that last stretch.
His time felt dated now, locked in a prison of his own body and soul. Keeping his head down, he closed his eyes. He was far better off blind than with blurred vision. William could feel eyes on him, whispering behind him as he walked. His addiction, his lust, his carelessness had brought him this far. This was why he was not meant to be loose. He was meant to be uptight. And now his travesty had occurred.
There was sudden silence, and then the sounds of people clearing away. Grell pushed someone out of the way, Ronald got the elevator ready, and then led him back to his apartment. The shinigami suddenly felt nauseous once more, gripping his stomach tightly with harsh reality. Ronald lifted his chin. "Hey boss…It can't be so bad, right?"
William opened his eyes, and meant to open his mouth to speak, but only gave a small wheeze from his pained throat, a gasp, and a nod. Turning quickly, he hid himself, his fear, his self loathing, his malice, into one heavy dark emotion and spewing it upon the floor. The nauseous feeling settled, but he knew the beginning was only getting worse.
Grell didn't say a word as he knelt down to clean up the retch, and did so quickly. No one said anything for a long time. No one had to. William pulled away from his co-workers and possibly his closest friends. Now all he wanted was the loudness, the tiredness, the exasperation of normalcy.
He knew his way enough to find himself into his bed, crawl under the covers and hide from everything while mostly blind. Warmth enveloped him and suddenly, he felt as though he were in the arms of the demon once more. "None of that now, William. Just relax. You'll be just fine."
Trying to breathe was becoming more of a problem now. Letting out a gasp and a whimper, he looked worse than he had before. Hugging himself tight, the sudden heat and need flared under him and felt like it would consume him. Each breath and movement turned into a consuming fire. Pain shot through him when it realized that its master was nowhere to be found. Letting out a small hiss, William's body twitched and bucked, pulling at sheets, pulling at his hair, clawing the mattress and the head board. His pillows shredded, his blanket ruined, he lay there, almost nude and exhausted from madness and pain.
Staring at the ceiling, he found his mind wandering to the demon's soft caresses. Why he could or would turn such a flower of discipline into such hate and resentment was beyond the shinigami's comprehension. Beginning to drift into sleep, his body coiled and uncoiled with rivulets and gasps of pain and lust. William knew his dreams would be tainted, but this was madness. Taking advantage of himself, William pulled his own hair. His eyes were dark and emptied.
His character drained, his body tired and exhausted, his mind crying, William finally fell asleep. And enjoyed the nightmares that plagued him. They were kinder to him than his real existence. Pulling at himself, he tried to wake himself up. But everything that he felt, every shred of pain and ounce of pleasure had him crying and begging. The withdrawal dug itself deep into his core and heated him. Misery pulled at him, as though he were simply ill with a fever.
William meant to ignore it… But found himself drowning in his pain before he could react. Humilation. Pain. Lust. Need. Those were what he was made of. Realizing this while drowning in these emotions…. He reminded himself that he would have to do this alone. Allowing the tiniest of smiles, he felt short amusement. Being alone… that was what he was best at.
