A few months later, Grell earned the right to get his chainsaw scythe out of impound and wield it again—only because William finally agreed that the scissors he'd assigned him in replacement were hindering his performance on the field. Oddly enough, the crimson reaper decided to keep the scissors as well, despite how often he'd complained about them. When asked by Ronald why, he shrugged and said he'd grown rather fond of them and they were at least useful for cutting hair and thread. Grell and Ronald began partnering up together again—mainly because William did not trust the redhead to reap on his own without getting into trouble again.
His instincts turned out to be right, but having Ronald along with him didn't do much good. One day in the spring he sent the two of them on a cruise ship that was destined to sink, and then word got back to him that they'd run into complications and hadn't reported anything since the Campania hit an iceberg and went down.
"Bother," grumbled William as he tried for the fourth time to reach Knox on his phone. He looked at the clock and he debated whether to keep trying to contact them or to just go to the coordinates where the ship went down and search for them. Reapers couldn't drown as they didn't require oxygen to live, and they could not freeze to death no matter how cold the water was. They could, however, be rendered comatose by such conditions and as a result, eventually starve to death. He would be tempted to leave Sutcliff to that fate, but certainly not Ronald. The only Dispatch agents not out on assignments right now were junior officers, and he wasn't about to entrust rookies with the task of a search and rescue.
William got on the phone with the personnel department. "This is Spears. Where did that ship go down?"
Ronald groaned when he came too, coughing up sea water. His face was swollen and he yelped when someone's shoe nudged him none too gently.
"Ronald Knox! Wake up this instant!"
"Oohh...owww," he moaned forcing blood-gummed eyes open. He was lying in the bottom of a boat with Grell, and standing over them looking immaculate as always was William T. Spears. "Wh-what happened?" he asked.
Grell stirred with a moan as well. When he saw William he gasped and called his name as if the man were a knight in shining armor. "Wiiillll! You've come for me!"
William sidestepped as Grell lunged at him, and rather than embrace the brunet as evidently intended, Grell went overboard again. With a sigh, William fished him out again with his scythe. "Start collecting, Sutcliff. I have come to clean up after your mistakes, yet again. Honestly, is it not possible for you to ever do your job without botching it?"
"Wait a minute," protested Ronald as he rubbed his wet head, "We're all beat up here, boss!" Geez, he knew Will could be cold but asking them to dive into salt water with open wounds? That was just cruel!
"I shall allow you to rest for a moment," said William, "and once your injuries close up, the both of you are to finish the job you were sent on. A reaper should be able to perform his or her duties regardless of the situation."
Ronald sighed. "Yeah, well you aren't the one that got his arse handed to him by the Undertaker, neither."
William paused and he stared at the younger man. "The Undertaker, you say?"
"Right." Ronald nodded and he winced in pain at the motion. "The old guy that runs the south side mortuary. Only, turns out he's not just a creepy old man. In fact he doesn't look old at all when you catch a glimpse of his face under all that hair. Scarred up, but not aged."
"Willy, he's a reaper," Grell blurted. "One of the fallen, I suppose. He's been hiding it from everyone for all this time, but we saw his face and eyes and there was no mistaking it!" Grell's eyes misted over. "And oh my, what a face! Like a scarred angel! If he hadn't thrown me through a glass dome I might have tried wooing him!"
William shook his head, his brows drawing down. "I do not understand any of this. You will both resume your collections and then you will file a report immediately afterwards. Be precise; the board will want to know exactly what occurred here today. Get going."
Both of the other reapers groaned, but they didn't argue with him.
"So that's who the violator is," William murmured the next day after going through Grell and Ronald's reports. He had heard of the very first of their kind defecting from the ranks some time ago, when he and Grell were still in training. He often gazed upon his statue monument in the Great Library, but he had never made the connection between the legend and the eccentric mortician in mortal London.
"And now he is in further violation of our laws, experimenting on the dead and turning them into abominations. How does one fall so far?"
The reaper he'd once been was naught but a shade from the past now, replaced by a madman who toyed with life and death like a curious child. He would have to answer for his crimes, and William had a terrible feeling that he was going to end up being assigned the task of bringing him in.
A knock on his office door distracted him from his contemplations. "Come in."
Ronald stepped in, looking a little sheepish as he approached Will's desk with some additional reports for the work day. He looked much better, with only faint discoloration on his left cheek to mark his experience on the ship. "Here's my regular collection reports, sir. Uh...sorry we messed up so much."
William set aside the documents he'd been going over and he took the fresh ones. "Considering the Undertaker managed to take on not only the two of you, but the Phantomhive demon as well, I believe we can safely presume the results would not have differed no matter who was on the assignment. Nobody could have predicted what happened on that cruise ship."
Ronald sighed with obvious relief and he sat down in the visitor chair on the other side of Will's desk. "That's not how you felt yesterday."
"I was perturbed," excused William, "more so with Sutcliff than with you. Now that I have seen both of your reports, I must give you some grace. The Undertaker is ancient, and he's had countless years to master his techniques. You are still quite green." He didn't mention that he'd also been worried for him, nor did he bring up the sense of relief he'd felt when Ronald awoke in the boat. He'd been harsh with him as well as Sutcliff, but in Ronald's case it was more due to anxiety than anger.
Ronald bit his lip. "So what's the verdict? Are we getting a pay cut?"
William shook his head. "There are mitigating circumstances, this time. I have requested leniency for you, and I am sure the board will agree once they review your reports. Doubtless we shall be expected to track the Undertaker down and arrest him for all of these violations. You can tell your former mentor congratulations; someone has finally rivaled his disgrace."
"Maybe now he'll stop whining about how unfair you've been." Ronald smirked. "I get to hear all about it every time we go out collecting or sit down to lunch. Eric and Alan have started taking their lunch in their office so they don't have to listen to it."
"One could hardly blame them," said William dryly. "Take the rest of the day off, Ronald. Get some rest and come in refreshed tomorrow. I've a feeling we are soon going to be working more overtime hours than ever, once the board reaches a decision considering the fugitive."
Ronald groaned and William sympathized with him, though his reason for distress wasn't likely the same as Will's. Undertaker was a legend amongst their kind, having been presumed dead years ago. William still could not believe he'd never considered that the Phantomhive informant might be the very same Undertaker that defected from Dispatch. He felt foolish for overlooking it, in fact. It was a well known fact that the Undertaker had worked with the Earl's family for years and he never seemed to fall victim to the inevitable decay of age that humans suffered with time.
"What are ya thinking, Will?" Ronald asked the question softly, his young face betraying concern.
"I'm thinking that I spend too much time in this office," murmured William in answer. "It's making me less observant. There were signs that the funeral director was not as he appeared, but I never had him investigated because the possibility that he was a reaper—let alone a legendary one—did not ever occur to me. This reflects badly on our whole department."
"Hey, you said it yourself—everyone thought he was dead. How were you supposed t' know the mortician was the same guy?"
"Because he is unusual enough to warrant suspicion," answered William coolly. His pallor, his behavior...even the way he moves should have alerted me to the truth; but I have never interacted directly with him nor visited his shop. I have only seen him from the distance. Sutcliff, on the other hand, has had run-ins with him before and he should have suspected something."
"Well, Senpai wasn't exactly in his right mind when that happened," excused Ronald. "He was all hyped up on blood lust so it's no wonder he didn't notice much."
"I suppose," sighed William. "It matters not; I am going to have to send agents to investigate his shop for clues as to where he might have gone. I very much doubt he will have returned there after what happened on the ship."
"The Phantomhive kid got that chain of mourning lockets Undertaker was wearing as a belt," informed Ronald. "I didn't put it in my report 'cause I didn't think it was relevant, but maybe we ought to add that. Undertaker seemed kind of upset when he dropped it, so that might be the cheese we need for the mousetrap."
William leaned back in his chair and he threaded his fingers together thoughtfully. "Yes, it just might. Perhaps we should arrange a visit to the Phantomhive manor. Not Grell, of course. He would merely irritate the boy and make him uncooperative. I'll send Slingby and Humphries to talk with the young earl."
William himself had no desire to pay a visit and interact with that wretched demon again. He knew the boy had survived the ordeal on the ship. His name had not appeared on any death lists.
"Will you come by tonight?" Ronald asked as he got up to leave. "I mean if we aren't going to get any time off again for a while, we might want to take advantage while we can."
William found the idea more than a little tempting. He could take a cab to the pub at the corner of Ronald's block and discreetly take the fire escape so as not to be seen entering his apartment. "I may have to work a bit late tonight," he informed the younger reaper. "No doubt the board will wish to discuss this matter with me and give instruction on how they wish for this to be dealt with. I shall call your home phone when I make it home, and provided it isn't too later, I will come over."
"No such thing as 'too late' when it comes to getting my Will loving," Ronald insisted with a wink. "See ya tonight, handsome."
A few days later, Eric and Alan went to the Phantomhive manor to inquire about the locket chain and try to negotiate the use of it so that they could lure Undertaker. The plan was to remind Ciel of how dangerous the rogue Shinigami was and point out the fact that he would likely come for his "treasure" one day or another. With the added protection of Dispatch agents, the boy was less likely to come to harm.
That was the plan, anyway. Unfortunately Tanaka answered the door and he informed the two reapers that Ciel and his butler were away at Weston College. Evidently Ciel was now enrolled there.
"Boy's school?" Eric sighed and scratched his head, glancing at his partner. The old butler waited politely while he tried to think of what to do next. Ciel would be away for months.
"Sirs, may I inquire as to what this is about?" Tanaka said.
Unsure of how much the house servants knew about reapers or if they even knew Sebastian was a demon, Alan chose his words with care. "We were hoping to speak with the Earl about a set of items that may have come into his possession. One of our associates lost it on the Campania and rumor has it Earl Phantomhive might have picked it up. The Yard would be very grateful if we could get it back."
"I see." The old man's eyes narrowed slightly. "The 'Yard', indeed. What sort of item is it?"
Knowing Tanaka knew more than he was letting on, Eric spoke up, using the British accent he'd learned to put on over the years. "It's a collection of mourning lockets on a chain. Hard to miss."
"Rather like the one that the Undertaker wears around his waist?" Tanaka guessed. "I was unaware the man had ties to Scotland Yard."
Eric sighed inwardly. "All right, we aren't really from the Yard..."
"Eric," said Alan warningly.
The Scotsman shrugged. "He's already figured it out, Alan. Might as well tell him the truth."
Alan's eyes widened, and he looked at the butler. He really didn't have much of a poker face. Eric didn't give him a chance to protest more. "The truth is we're part of a secret organization and the Undertaker is wanted for illegal experimentation. I don't know how much your lord told you about the events on the Campania, but the Undertaker caused quite a mess."
"I hears some disturbing things," admitted Tanaka with an elegant nod. "And you say your organization wishes to arrest him? Have you any identification to confirm this?"
Alan exchanged a look with Eric, his expression telling the Scotsman he was going to be in for a lecture when they got home. They had Dispatch ID's of course, but it was nothing any human would recognize. "Yes sir, we do," he sighed, and he reached for his wallet to show the butler. Eric did the same and Tanaka adjusted his monocle, peering down at them.
"My word...what language is this written in?" He stared at the odd Shinigami letters and numbers in astonishment.
"It's an encrypted language," explained Eric quickly, guessing the man was probably bilingual and unwilling to risk getting caught in another lie by throwing some random language out there. "Only members of our agency are taught to read it, for our safety and for the safety of others."
"I...see." He still seemed a bit dubious, but the blatant suspicion was gone from his lined face. "Well, I wish that I could assist you, but Lord Phantomhive took the item you seek with him when he left. I am afraid you will have to either visit the school to speak with him about it or come back another time."
Eric sighed. "So much for that."
"Thank you for your cooperation," said Alan more graciously. "My partner and I shall take our leave now. Come on, Eric."
They felt Tanaka's eyes on them as they walked away. "I've go' tae wonder how much tha' old man really knows," whispered Eric, dropping his face accent, "an' whether he was telling tha truth about tha lockets or no'."
"Well, we can't very well just break into the manor and conduct an unauthorized search," sighed Alan. "All that we can do is try to reach Lord Phantomhive or use another method to track Undertaker down."
They had the Undertaker's shop in London watched at all times, but the man never returned to it—not even to collect things he might have left behind. They found it abandoned, in fact. He'd clearly left with the intention of being away for quite some time, seeing as all the furniture was covered. William was highly frustrated when their efforts proved fruitless. They heard rumors here and there from other reapers, but that's all they really were—rumors. Word had gotten out that the crazy old Undertaker was actually the same reaper whose likeness stood in the Great Library, and now it seemed everyone claimed they saw him somewhere or another.
It was making the investigation even tougher. William was even more overworked than usual and Ronald did all he could to ease his tension. Of course, Knox's methods of doing so weren't exactly appropriate for the office. At first, William was against it and he turned him away a few times, but then one day he eventually gave in. Since he barely got out of the office anymore, most of his "dates" with Ronald took place in there. The blond started bringing him takeout and eating dinner with him, he gave him massages and of course, he initiated sex whenever possible.
One such encounter nearly resulted in them getting caught, much to Will's horror—by Sutcliff, of all reapers. There he was at his desk getting a hand job when Grell came knocking on his door insistently with some complaint or another. Will panicked and shoved Ron under his desk before tucking himself in and going to the door to unlock it. His face was flushed as he opened the door.
"What now, Sutcliff? I'm quite busy."
Grell blinked at him. "And flushed," he observed, "and winded, too. Why, if I didn't know any better I would confuse those symptoms for passion, darling...but you are far too proper to conduct an illicit affair in the middle of the day in your own office."
"I was exercising," excused William, flushing deeper. "I must get a workout some time, you know. Since I rarely get out of the office these days, it's my only recourse."
"I could give you a workout," offered Grell with his Cheshire grin. He ran a gloved finger over Will's tie. "Something much more satisfying than calisthenics, my cold prince."
"Thank you, but I shall pass." William stepped back and straightened his tie. "What do you want, Grell Sutcliff?"
The crimson reaper sighed. "I wanted to tell you that the Phantomhive brat has returned home. Eric and Alan went to speak with him earlier, but he denied having the Undertaker's rusty old lockets. He claims to have lost them in the ocean, but I don't quite believe him."
"I see." Will did his best not to glance back over his shoulder at his desk, where his secret lover was hidden. "Have his manor watched, then. Even if he no longer possesses the lockets, the fugitive will probably still come looking for them, sooner or later."
"My thoughts exactly," agreed Grell with a nod. "You and I think so very much alike, Will!"
"No we do not," denied Will coldly. "If that is all, I bid you good day."
"Oh, but it isn't all," insisted Grell, blocking the door with his boot when Will tried to close it. "Guess who made an appearance at the Weston college? It seems a student there had an accident some time ago—and by 'accident' I mean his classmates put an end to him and had to call on some outside help to cover up their crime. I'm sure I don't need to remind you who has the power to bring the dead back to life, hmm?"
"Undertaker," whispered Spears. His jaw tightened. "Has there been any indication of where he might have gone from there?"
Grell shrugged. "The Viscount Druitt was questioned on that matter, but if he knows anything he's hiding it admirably. My guess is he's still in the country. If his precious lockets mean so much to him, he won't go far."
"One would assume." Will sighed and pushed his glasses up further on his face. "Have every available agent ask around mortal London, and have the staff at that school questioned thoroughly."
"I'm already on that, darling," assured Grell. "That old bounder is going to pay for what he did to my face!"
William rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Good work, Sutcliff. Now if you'll excuse me, I've work I must get back to."
"I thought you were exercising," Grell pointed out with a frown.
"I had just finished when you interrupted me. Now get back to work."
Grell sighed in disappointment and he obligingly turned to go. "Rejected again...how unfair! If you should happen to see Ronnie, tell him I shall meet him in the cafeteria for lunch in an hour. We still have collections to gather today and I cannot find that flighty boy anywhere!"
"I shall relay the message, should I see him," promised William. He closed and locked the door again and he breathed a sigh of relief, adrenaline pumping through him.
Ronald crawled out from under the desk with an exhilarated grin on his lips. "Whew, that was close! Nothing like nearly getting caught to give a thrill, huh?"
"You may find it 'thrilling' to imagine being discovered in a compromising position by your own mentor, but I do not." William turned around to face him as the blond approached. "We must be more careful, Ronald."
Ron shrugged and put his hands on Will's shoulders, rising up on his tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips. "Are you sure we'd get in trouble if we got found out? I've never seen any rules against office dating."
"That is because it should even need to be on paper," insisted William. "If I did not outrank you it might be different, but considering I am your supervisor, I doubt the board would look kindly on it. We've been over this before, Ronald. Must we have this discussion every week?"
Ronald sighed, sliding his hands down Will's tense arms. "Sorry. I just hate sneaking around all the time. It was fun at first, feeling like I was getting away with forbidden fruit, but whenever I see all these couples holding hands in public and kissing...well, it doesn't seem fair that we can't. Besides, it's getting exhausting flirting with the girls downstairs all the time, taking 'em on dates and making up excuses why I won't come in with 'em when I take them home. How long am I going t' have to keep up this charade?"
"For a while longer, at least." Will's cool expression softened and he stroked Ronald's feathered locks. "Until I can be sure I won't lose my job over it, or until I get transferred to another department."
Ronald blinked. "You'd...do that? Transfer somewhere else?"
William hesitated. "The thought has crossed my mind more than once. If I were to transfer to another department—say Liverpool or Sheffield, perhaps—then we could date openly without compromising job security. I would require some believable excuse for requesting such a transfer, however. Therein lies the problem."
Ronald bit his lip. "I...dunno if I'd want that. I mean sure we could date like normal folk if ya did that, but it's a whole other town and I wouldn't see you every day. As much as you work, I'd be lucky to get one day a week with you."
"I realize it isn't the most ideal arrangement," sighed Will. "I'm not exactly thrilled about the prospect myself, but it may be our only option if we are to ever date openly. Thus far it seems our only options are to continue keeping it a secret, put my job at risk or consider transferring. I would not ask you to transfer and leave behind all of your friends, but I truly have none—therefore I am the more logical choice if it comes to that."
"You've got me," Ronald pointed out, "and I'm sure you'd have more friends if you ever tried going out and doing things with any of our coworkers."
William smirked ruefully, seeing the pity in his lover's gaze. "That's a lovely sentiment, but managers cannot afford to get too friendly with those they are supervising. It can cause them to lose respect for me and my position."
"Sorry, but I don't see it like that," argued Ronald. "I mean you've gotten real friendly with me and I still respect the hell out of ya. Of course, it's hard not to respect a guy that's so good in the sack, but you know what I mean."
This time Will's smirk was a bit more genuine, and he traced Ronald's lips with a gloved finger. "You are the exception. Perhaps Alan would be more tractable and retain his respect for me, but Sutcliff would see it as an invitation for more and Slingby is the sort of man that only takes orders from people more intimidating than himself. If I begin trying to befriend him, he'll likely see it as a weakness."
"Or he'll think his boss is more than just an automation that lives for paperwork," muttered Ronald.
"You're getting angry," observed Will with a sigh. "This is why I dislike talking about this with you."
"Couples argue sometimes," insisted Ronald. "Well, normal couples do. Can't we even have that?"
Will compressed his lips. "So you require quarrelling in order to feel more like a real couple?"
"No, but...damn it, I'm just frustrated. We don't go out in public, we have to sneak into each other's apartments like thieves when one of us comes over to visit the other, I've got to keep putting on this show and pimping myself out to girls I'm not even really interested in and we can't even go out for a simple lunch without looking over our shoulders and putting on an act. I'm not angry, really...I'm just..."
William suddenly kissed him, stealing Ronald's breath and cutting off his tirade. The boy moaned into the kiss, arms stealing around the taller man's waist. Will plundered his mouth for a while until Ronald's knees started giving out, and then he broke the kiss and stared into his eyes.
"...frustrated," finished Ronald breathlessly.
"I know," answered William. "It frustrates me too, but if you're going to continue getting upset then perhaps we should discuss it another time. I shall start looking into my options for a transfer. Better that we work apart and date openly than to continue doing something that makes you so unhappy."
Ronald sighed and pulled away. "I don't really want that, either. I guess I don't know what I want. One way allows me to see you every day and the other gets me the sort of relationship I want, but takes you away from me. It all sucks."
"We can think it over for a while and discuss it," suggested William. "Nothing must be done right away. Now, you'd best prepare to meet Grell for lunch, before he gets suspicious and comes looking for you again."
Ron nodded reluctantly and he pinched Will's bottom. "There'd better be sex to be had later. It's been days and I'm getting antsy."
William smiled ever so slightly. "I will book a suite for us tonight. We shall order room service, enjoy an intimate, candle-lit dinner and then lovemaking throughout the night. Would that suffice?"
"Hell yeah." Ronald perked up and he finally managed a sincere grin. "That'll more than suffice. Don't back out on me now, like ya did last week."
"That really was no fault of mine," objected William. "I was on call."
"So make sure someone else goes on call tonight and turn your bloody phone off if you've got to." Ronald insisted. "You've got a foxy Knoxy to look forward to."
William watched him go and he sighed softly, his gaze roving over the blond's backside. "Indeed I do," he agreed in a soft whisper—and he was more than looking forward to spending the night with him.
"Will...oh gods...William!" Ronald's impassioned vocalizations filled the room of the suite he and William booked, several hours later. He panted and clung to his lover as Will's pelvic thrusts drove him closer and closer to the brink. William was being more gentle this time than he'd been with him the first. They'd gotten so caught up in the moment that they didn't even make it across the room to the bed the first time, and Ronald ended up pinned against the wall, being taken from behind. They'd lain down together after completion, kissing and caressing until they recovered enough for a second round.
Will's phone began to vibrate. Ronald groaned when he heard it buzzing and he grabbed the older reaper's ass to keep him from pulling out. "You said you'd turn it off!"
"No, you demanded I turn it off and I chose to compromise and mute it," corrected William unsteadily. "I cannot simply turn it off and make myself completely unavailable, Ronald. My position in this organization doesn't allow it."
He gave another slow pump of his hips, making Ronald moan with pleasure. "I don't care about your position at work right now," gasped Ronald. "The only position I care about is the one you're in right now with me! Don't answer it, gorgeous...please?"
William groaned as well when Ronald's ass clamped down hard on his length, nearly pushing him over the edge. He kept going even as he reached for the phone to see who it was. When he saw that it was a phone call from the mortal realm, he frowned and put it to his ear despite Ronald's pleas. "William T. Spears speaking." He somehow managed to keep his voice steady so that the other party would never guess what he was doing.
"Good evening, Mister Spears," greeted a familiar, cultured voice that William frankly disdained. "I am calling on behalf of my master. I am sure you don't wish to prolong this conversation any more than I do, so I will make this brief."
William sighed and stopped moving. He put his hand over his companion's mouth warningly to stall his protests. "Go on, Mister Michaelis. I am listening."
"The Undertaker is currently at the Phantomhive manor," obliged the demon butler. "I believe Dispatch has been after him for a time now, and my master has instructed me to inform you. I would advise you to come quickly if you don't wish to miss out on this opportunity. Good evening to you."
Sebastian hung up the phone and Will pulled the device away from his ear, staring at it. With a faintly regretful look at his squirming lover, he withdrew from Ronald's body and he got up to get dressed.
"What the hell?" Blurted Ronald in umbrage. "Will! Why'd you stop?"
"Because we have the chance to apprehend our dangerous fugitive," explained William. "Our pleasure can wait, Ronald. Get dressed and contact Grell, whilst I contact Humphries and Slingby. Hopefully the five of us and Michaelis will be a match for the Undertaker—though I loathe to ally myself with a demon for any reason."
Ronald grumbled, but he didn't argue with him. A short time later they met up with their allies outside headquarters and they all teleported to the Phantomhive manor together.
William was the first one to make it through the portal, and evidently the Undertaker was expecting him because the ancient was already wielding his death scythe. A glance at Ciel Phantomhive's expression gave away what must have happened. The boy was having second thoughts about turning in the man who had served his family as an informant for so many years. There was nothing for it though; they were already here and they had a job to do.
"Undertaker," announced Spears, "You are charged with violating Rule 2-B of Code 5, sub-section 3, regarding the interference of mortal life and death. You are hereby ordered by Shinigami society authorities to relinquish your scythe and surrender."
His companions portaled in around him just as he finished speaking, and Ronald came immediately to his side. Some of the color had drained from William's face with the realization of who he was about to face and what it would mean for the Undertaker if they took him.
"Wait," called Ciel, but Sebastian picked him up bodily and carried him out of the room, ignoring his protests.
"If you resist," announced William, leveling his scythe at him, "we have been authorized to use deadly force."
Undertaker stared at the pruning pole scythe, knowing that it could extend to shocking distances in the blink of a mortal eye. It's owner looked a bit pale, however. In fact, there was emotion behind those determined eyes, and he saw the silent plea in them. He knew that Spears admired him for his past history with the organization, and he knew how hard it must be for him to put duty before personal feelings.
Even under these odds, the Undertaker couldn't resist toying with his adversaries. He lifted his scythe, displaying the formidable, classic weapon in a warning manner. The other reapers backed up a bit, grasping their own scythes warily.
"When they tell you to jump," announced Undertaker with a wild, broad grin, "you lot ask how high. I used to be just like you."
"Undertaker!"
Distracted by the sound of Ciel calling his name again, Undertaker turned to see the boy standing in the archway to the kitchen, with his butler at his side. The boy parted his lips to say something else, but he faltered, unable to speak the apology in his muted gaze. Ciel Phantomhive wasn't the sort to suffer guilt, doubt or sentiment easily, so it touched the ancient reaper to witness that little reveal.
Undertaker's smile softened for him, and he kept his scythe defensively raised with one hand, while reaching down with the other to unfasten his chain belt again. "It seems you'll be taking care of this for a bit longer, little lord." Undertaker tossed it through the air, over the heads of Eric and Alan. Sebastian caught it, his ruby gaze curious on Undertaker.
"Now," said the retired Shinigami, "Get him out of here, butler."
~No.~
But saying it in his head did not stop it from happening. Despite being utterly surrounded, the Undertaker swung his scythe in a deadly arc, the blade making a hair-raising whoosh sound as it cut through the air toward him and his two companions.
William reacted immediately, shoving Ronald to the floor before ducking himself. He heard Grell shout in a way that sounded as gleeful as alarmed, and then the walls behind him were sliced horizontally, all the way through. Had he been still standing, his head would have probably been severed from his shoulders, and the top of Ronald's skull would have been lopped off. Grell was short enough even in heels to have survived with only a buzz-cut to show for it, but that would have been upsetting enough, for the likes of him.
"Holy shit!" Ronald blurted, seemingly surprised even though he'd already faced down Undertaker aboard the Campania.
William heard something overhead snap as Undertaker hopped onto the dining table and spun in a circle, letting the crescent blade of his scythe sing through the air. He heard Alan shout a warning to Eric, and then the chandelier overhead crashed down. The crystals shattered upon impact, and Thomas yelled as the spray of shards cracked his glasses and peppered his face. Eric grabbed him and yanked him to the floor, while Alan and Grell attacked from two different sides, leaping onto the table with their scythes leading the way.
Alan was quickly pinned to the wall by a hurled grave marker that pierced his shoulder, and Grell got tripped. Undertaker started to lower his scythe to the redhead once he was on his back at his feet, but he stopped at the last minute, reversed the strike and hit Eric in the stomach with the blunt side of his weapon, instead. Slingby crashed into the cabinet in the far corner of the room, shattering precious china and getting flattened by the cabinet itself, as it fell over him.
William got to his feet, ignoring the groaning sound above him. He extended his scythe and he pressed his lips together grimly as the blades at the end of it pierced Undertaker's chest, just beside his right shoulder. The fugitive staggered and peered at him through wild locks of silver hair, his eyes flashing.
"Don't force the issue further," urged William, getting to his feet. Ronald circled around the table and nodded at him, ready to strike but awaiting his order.
"Ah, but I can't help myself," Undertaker said with a grin. "You see, I—"
Unfortunately for him, Grell's fallen chainsaw was spinning around in circles on the floor, still running. The blade just happened to hit the far right leg of the table that Undertaker was standing on, and it cut right through it. The leg snapped, the table abruptly buckled, and Undertaker went down with it—falling right on top of Grell.
The redhead cried out again, sounding inappropriately delighted as the legendary reaper's body crashed down on top of his, in a blur of silver hair and black garments. The table fell over completely and both of them were fortunate that William put a firm foot down on the blade of the chainsaw to stop it from cutting into them, as well.
"Quickly," urged William to his associates.
Ronald was the first to reach Undertaker, and he started to cuff him with the special restraints designed by the organization to hold Shinigami. He got kicked in the face for his troubles, and Grell shouted a protest as Undertaker rolled onto his hair in the process of kicking Ron away. William leaped over the ruin of the table and extended his scythe again, before the Undertaker could get back to his feet and reach for his weapon.
Undertaker stopped when the sharp blades of William's scythe pressed against either side of his throat, directly over the scar encircling the pale flesh. He looked up at the dispatch supervisor as the blades drew a trickle of blood, and he stopped moving. He began to grin like a fiend, watching the brunet through his long bangs as he spread his hands to either side in surrender.
"Couldn't make it too easy on you, could I?"
William fought against a sudden urge to cry. He shoved his personal feelings aside and he kept his gaze fixated on the dangerous funeral director. "Ronald, finish. By the authority of Shinigami Dispatch, I hereby place you under arrest, Undertaker. You will be relieved of your scythe and confined, where you will await trial for your crimes. Do you understand these charges?"
Undertaker allowed Ronald to secure his wrists behind him with the glowing white spirit cuffs, and he obligingly took his knee off of Grell's hair when the redhead tried to rise and complained. He gave Spears a reckless grin, and he nodded—incidentally drawing more blood.
"I think you've made it clear. Your masters will be pleased."
He hadn't expected to escape, and he really hadn't been interested in killing anyone. All in all, he still considered himself to be a neutral force, neither for or against his old associates, demons or angels. After recovering from the struggle, his captors took him to Shinigami headquarters. Undertaker felt somewhat comforted in the knowledge that his belt of treasures would be looked after by Ciel, until he could reclaim it once more.
"Funny how things work out," muttered the funeral director, shuffling along with his armed escort.
"What do you mean?" Grell asked. "If you're going to mumble, at least try to make some sense."
Undertaker smirked. "Don't mind me."
He saw people out the corners of his eyes; reapers young and old, coming and going to and from work and training. They were all a blur, since he didn't rely on glasses like his fellow Shinigami. Many of them stopped and stared at the ragged company, and Undertaker heard his name murmured on the lips of some. The dimension in which the Shinigami lived was an entirely different world from the mortal realm they operated on, and it was far more advanced. It had been so many years since Undertaker had been there, beyond the rare visits to the library. The metropolis had changed so much, already.
But one thing was still the same, and its irony wasn't lost on Undertaker as he passed through the front doors of the tallest building and into the massive lobby. He looked up at the massive statue of himself, standing in the middle of the fountain in the center of the lobby.
Undertaker began to cackle, and the volume of his laughter steadily increased as his escorts took him past the monument of himself.
-The End (story continues in "Flowers for the Dead")
