Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji!

Ronald breezed by, shoulders touching and then he was a good several feet away, he turned his head to the side to look over his shoulder; William did not look back, he was never the type to do so. He's too, what was the word?...cool. There we go, William was too cool to even consciously think of ever turning his head over shoulder. He gave a curt, approving nod at his choice of word while reaching the corridor where elevators were. He pushed the button and stood there, patiently waiting. With a slight glance to his left at a window, an he spotted what appeared to be two black swirls dashing about the rooftops outside below the Library. "What the hell?" he murmured, double checking to see if he was hallucinating.

He saw a flash of silver speed after the black dot. That was a death scythe! He grew worried, wondering how long the fight had been going on. Sure there were a couple disagreements here and there, and a scythe held up once or twice, but this felt different. A gloved hand reached into the inner pocket of his blazer and retrieved a pair of binoculars, he peered through them and zoomed in by pushing the small tab on the side. He nearly dropped them when he identified Samantha dodging every swing of Undertaker's sickle.

"Samantha? !" He said aloud, catching several reapers' attentions when they walked by him in a group, as a familiar ding! from an elevator resounded through the corridor. He threw a glance the golden gates opening but thrust his elbow on the glass window; the force undid the latch above him and the window swing open. The gently, afternoon breeze came pouring in and sent papers scattering out of the workers' hands. His foot stomped on the windowsill and he looked down, from where he was, it was quite a drop of several hundred feet but it was nothing compared to what his lawnmower was able to handle.

Without a second thought, he kicked off and launched himself towards the ground below while adjusting his glasses until they nearly touched his forehead. He went into a crouching position, readying his legs to spring up, as he swung his arms back. From there, he pounded against the roof of a building underneath the floor he had came from as his scythe materialized behind him. Feeling the familiar wait, Ronald kicked off once more while shifting his weight to perform a front flip, nearly releasing his scythe but keep a loose and firm grip upon it. Once completing his rotation, his white Oxfords padded against the motor as he prepared for a longer, much more power landing. A swift hand pulled the chord and the machine roared to life.

-...-

A page and a half done of his reflection had given Grell's hand an ungodly cramp. He felt every bone pop as the door opened. Green eyes wandered over to the door, his lips curled into a satisfied smile. The boy is faster than I thought. He stretched his arms ahead of him to block the view of the incomer and yawned,"You're very quick, a thirty second shower? That's not very hygienic." When his hands went down, he glowered at the sight of William. "Oh, you...I don't think whipping at a woman ill in bed is a good choice."

William gave an unapproved, and unamused, expression while taking his seat near Grell's bed. Without further comment, he said,"Do you know Starveling?"

Grell doubted him in his random inquiry but answered slowly,"She's the receptionist at General Affairs, who doesn't know her? She's nice and all..."

"And do you know of several Divisions in the Reaper Realm falling to pieces?" William took the page that was fresh from Grell's lap and reviewed over it. So far, he wasn't liking the result of the paper; his eyes fallowed the dark lines on the bedside table's leg until they reached a place where an empty cup and an overturned pill dispenser laid, strewn with pills slightly pouring out. Oh, Grell was going to receive a beating whether he was ill or not. For God's sake, he's taking the Scarlet, of course he won't be ill! The pruning tool that rested on his lap extended up towards the unsuspecting redhead.

"Of course, it's on the newspapers every day I mea-..." Grell's eyes went wide at the sight of the sharp point in his face. "...get that thing away from me! I wrote down what happened in the reflection! What more-"

"It is not that which I am concerned about."

He fixed his glasses, which nearly slid off his nose, as he brought it to one of Grell's signature bangs.

"You took the Scarlet, did you not?...Grell Sutcliff?"

Grell's fearful demeanor became dark, causing William to instantly withdraw his scythe when he saw the other's jaws open to reveal the shark-like incisors. "I need to take it, William...I don't care if it's banned by you, the Council, or anyone in this world! I'm in pain, maybe if I...if I bit right into your stomach and yanked your intestines out? You'll be in pain, you'll want to use something that works quick! This worked better than Undertaker's medicine!" Lips curled as a warning gesture towards William, showing even the gum of his mouth. "Do you want to try-"

"Look at yourself, Sutcliff, you are beginning to be addicted to this and you can't even remember who's soul you were supposed to collect last night! This paper is only a reflection of one of your dreams!" Voices began to rise, Grell was taken back.

"That's the truth, that's all I remember, and that's all you're going to get out of me, Mister William T. Spears!" He addressed his superior with such formality that it shocked him. William's brows furrowed as he sighed, eyes closed to count mentally in his head how much patience he had left for Grell's stupidity, and his hand gripped the scythe so he shortened it until it was short enough to sit in his lap once more. He reached towards the Scarlet, much to Grell's displeasure, and pocketed it in his blazer's pocket. "And if you tell me to write another damn report, I swear I'll quit! I'm not even wearing my glasses, I might as well live like Undertaker, save for being a funeral director! At least he's not having it rough like me, in fact, he seems to enjoy what he does!"

The last statement was the final straw for William. He doesn't know the truth yet, does he...the idiot. For the first time in his career, he stood up from where he sat, his scythe clanging against the metal poster of a nearby bed as it fell, and he swooped down to heave Grell close by the collar of his dress shirt, and even higher, almost to a point of where the latter's bottom left contact from the mattress. The papers that were strewn in a somewhat organized patter on Grell's lap came suddenly laid strewn on the floor. He was never the kind to discipline by hand, relying on his scythe was more convenient, but William quickly discovered how much of an effect this had on Grell, for it shut him up in his childish assumption. Grell's arms hung lamely at his side as though he was one of his rag dolls while William leered at him, as though threatening to toss him out the window.

Grell wanted to throw his fist into William's chest and he done so but was frightened to learn that it had no affect. Instead, while withdrawing his first, William grabbed it and also threatened to shatter it with a simple twist. Grell gasped at the thought when he felt William clench the custom made dress shirt even tighter. A muscle moved under William's hair, indicating that he was grinding his teeth, as Grell began to squirm in his grip. William brought the side of Grell's face towards his mouth until his lips caressed the other's ear; his hot breath contacting the flushed skin and sending a tingling feeling down Grell's spine. Instantly, he froze as he heard William whisper softly.

"Listen, I am concerned about you, alright? Stop taking the Scarlet because clearly you are going to forget what happened your entire lifetime...not just what happened the past forty-eight hours."

Thinking that it was his only punishment, Grell sighed in relief since it was yet another pointless reasoning to stop taking the pain relievers. It was too late when William released Grell's wrist and pinched the back of his neck to knock him out. Grell's head hung loosely upon his neck and he truly became a rag doll when William hoisted him into his arms to carry him bridal style; his arm hung loosely to the side and by William's shoulder while the nurse came walking by. He kicked away the chair and made his way towards the doors.

"Mr. Spears! You need to sign him out, if he even is alright I doubt he recovered from the Scarlet!" She pipped up, scampering over to him with a clipboard. "Mr. Spears!"

Eyes rolling slightly, his glasses was ready to slip off his nose once more. He carefully laid Grell on to the nearest bed and calmly took the paperwork to go over.

"I know you very much dislike paperwork, but it needs to be done," she sighed as she heard the final scratch of the pen on paper, she took it to look over as he adjusted his glasses, then she nodded,"you may take him. Just be careful...but I need to know, where are you going? Mr. Spears?" She approached him by an inch as he picked up Grell once more and began to walk out of the Infirmary. "Mr. Spears?"

"The Council, they require Grell Sutcliff's presence there," he answered without looking back,"and if Ronald Knox arrives here, tell him that he must meet at the Council as well."

A/N: Sorry about this being shorter than usual, guys! But I have work to do and I might as well give you something to preoccupy yourselves!

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