"He's never going to learn anything if you keep going easy on him, Grell," the Undertaker chuckled. "He's here to learn." Grell paused, cutting of his engine for a moment, watching Ronald panting heavily and wiping a bit of blood from his cheek. The Undertaker frowned then laughed. "You know, the hybrids are only alive because of him. If it helps, he created them. If he hadn't got so worked up and run off they'd never have been created. She'd still be alive. It's his fault she's dead." Something clicked and snapped inside Grell, they could pretty much see the wheels turning, as that sunk in and Ronald's eyes widened, the colour draining from him face as the engine roared back to life. "And she died saving him."

Grell snarled, shooting forwards towards, straight at him. Tightening his grip on his pair of knives, Ronald tried to convince himself Grell knew he hadn't meant for Michelle to die. It wasn't his fault, it was just a way to get him rattled and make him fight with all his strength. It wasn't his fault. Michelle had made her choice, there was nothing he could have done. He couldn't have helped, he'd probably have just got in the way if he tried. Grell slashed his chainsaw downwards and Ronald swung aside, copying a move he'd seen Michelle do with Grell time after time as if it was a routine. Grell's scythe hit the ground and stuck for moment and Ronald vaulted his back, landing just behind and to the side, swinging around and landing a kick on his chest, knocking him back and knocking the wind from him.

Moments later Grell tackled him to the ground, one hand firmly around his throat, the other grabbing his scythe. He snatched a handful of Ronald's hair and pulled his head back, nails raking his scalp as his scythe roar into life once more. He tried to pull his arms up and get his scythes to block but his arms were pinned firmly at his side by Grell's legs.

"What did she say?" he snarled. Ronald stared up at him, shooting the Undertaker a pleading look. Why the hell had he said that? Why wasn't he helping? "What did she say? What was the last thing she said?"

"She- we asked her how she found us, she said she'd followed her demon!" Ronald cried.

"That's enough, Grell," the Undertaker said gently, pulling Grell away. "You have a demon to hunt." There was a nagging, whispering voice in the back of Ronald's mind telling him that the Undertaker had said all that just for a few minutes of reaction, which he ignored as best he could, and he sat up slowly staring up at Grell, even as the Undertaker pulled him up. "Do you see, Ronald? How quickly he managed to overpower you?"

"What on earth are you lot doing?" William snapped suddenly. Ronald turned to William in the doorway. He strode over and caught Ronald's upper arms, glaring down at him. "What are you thinking? You have been in bed with a fever for nearly three days, what is going through your head right now? Why would you honestly think it was a good idea to be doing this kind of brutal work after that? What are you thinking?"

"William, I-"

"You weren't thinking, were you? You just barrel into thing without giving anything a second's thought. Why do you keep doing this?"

"Will, leave him alone," Grell snarled, his scythe's engine roaring back into life. "He hasn't done anything wrong. Leave him alone."

"Is there any point in me constantly trying to help you, and fix you up after you get hurt or sick or kidnapped when you're just going to do it all over again?" he continued. Ronald could only stare up at him, completely confused. He hadn't meant to make him angry or upset. He was only trying to be stronger, so he was less of a burden. How had it suddenly gone so wrong? "Do you like being hurt? Is that why you keep doing this? Or is it just that you like being babied and pitied? Or perhaps you think so little of me that you think the only way we'll stay together is if I'm constantly having to look after you? Heaven only knows what goes on in your mind sometimes. Why do you keep doing this to me? Why won't you listen?"

Finally, Ronald snapped, shoving William off with a sudden burst of strength, sending him staggering back. "If it was up to you I'd sit in bed with nothing sharp and nothing exciting in case I got hurt. You seem to want to lock me up in a padded room where only you can come anywhere near me because everything is too dangerous for me. I get that you're hurt right now and I get that you're grieving, but you can't keep me safe from everything and I don't want to keep being protected and saved."

"Then stop being so stupid. I am trying to keep you safe. If you die from your own stupidity what good is Michelle's death? She died saving you and you're just going to throw that sacrifice away by running in blindly in danger. Why are you being so stupid? Just go home and stay there, you're sick. Go home so I can stop worrying about you and the adults can do something useful."

Ronald stared back at him, debating arguing back, but in the end nodded and lowered his head. William didn't mean it really. He was worried and grieving. He wasn't thinking straight. And he supposed he did have a point. He did keep getting into trouble. It wasn't that he was trying to hurt him. William was just saying thing without thinking, he wasn't holding back and being polite and everything was getting to him. It was nothing to take offense at. He was just snapping because he was stressed. He'd make it better later. For now, he was best to just do as William said. He needed to calm down and think straight again. He slid his scythes back into their sheaths and strode out.

"Ronnie," Grell called. He glanced back. "I'm sorry about... losing my temper. It wasn't your fault."

"It's fine, Grell," he whispered. "William's right though, I shouldn't be here. I'm useless, I'll just get in the way."

William turned, his fingers brushing his as he walked out but Ronald didn't stop, just carried on. "Ronald... I-"

"It's fine, you're right, I'm going to go home so you can stop worrying."

He shut the door to the room and strode out into the Undertaker's back room through into the funeral parlour. People said things they didn't mean when they were grieving. Reapers weren't used to it, they didn't really get it. They needed someone to blame, some sort of explanation. William was protecting him, like he always did, but after losing Michelle, he was just more stressed and worried. Of course he was worried. He had every right to be so upset.

He sighed and leant against the side of the shop, watching the people passing at the end of the street as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He should go home like William told him to but... What if he meant it? What if he really was just getting in the way? What if William was right and he was only causing trouble and should just stay at home and do as he was told? They always had to risk their lives to save him after all. No one else had been in so much trouble. Suddenly there was a hand offered to him and he jerked his head up, expecting to see Grell, or maybe William, there to comfort him and bright him back in.

"Don't you want to show them how strong you are? How strong you can be?"

"...how...?"

"It's a big risk and it won't be easy, but you can do it. You can be so strong."

He frowned, then nodded slowly and reached out, soft hands wrapping around his and pulling him forwards, into the dark shadows of the back alleys with a flash of red eyes. There was the soft click of heels behind him and the familiar rev of Grell's scythe but Ronald just followed further into the darkness, entranced by those glittering red eyes, even knowing how demonic they really were and that he was being lured in like so many humans. He was already ensnared by the pretty words and promises of strength and power and finally making everyone see he wasn't a stupid child who needed protecting. And even knowing he was being pulled in by sweet words and promises he was following without question.

"Ronnie," Grell cried, the sound of the engine coming ever closer. "Ronnie, don't go with him. Ronald!"

"I shouldn't have snapped," William said quietly, sitting on one of the Undertaker's coffins. "I didn't mean to hurt him."

"It's alright," the Undertaker said, patting his head, picking up a jar and offering it to him. "Cookie?" William shook his head slightly. "Too bad." He took one and bit into it. "Don't worry, Mr Spears. It's perfectly natural to experience some out of character moments when you're grieving. People get somewhat erratic. There are many different ways of dealing with it."

"I just want to keep him safe," he said. "If Michelle lost to them-" He stopped and shook his head as the Undertaker offered him a beaker of tea. "What if I can't protect him?"

"He doesn't want to be protected anymore." William frowned and tapped his scythe against the floor. He needed to be protected. "You should take some time off work."

"I want to work." William frowned. "No. No, I need to work. I need to keep my mind off things." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I need to work or I'll start thinking about what happened between us. I should have been there anyway, I shouldn't have just left him to go out on his own. If I'd been there with them, maybe I could have stopped them getting kidnapped or saved Michelle."

"I know, many people get that sort of feeling." He sat next to him and pulled out another biscuit to nibble on. "Some people blame themselves and spend years thinking about what ifs. And some blame the victim. How could Michelle be so stupid as to go in when she was obviously outnumbered by creatures she knew nothing of when she could have just left with Alan and Ronald and stayed with them? Why do all that just for a human brat?"

"It wasn't her fault."

"It was her mistake."

"Sutcliff got them in that mess. She wouldn't have been there if he'd looked after Ronald and Alan. I should never have let them go with him. If anything happens to Ronald because of his idiocy I'm never going to forgive him, or myself." The Undertaker nodded. "I just want to keep him safe but I just end up pushing him away."

"It's normal. I often see it with mothers who've lost a child. She will tighten her grip on the remaining kids and smoother them with protection because she can't bear to lose another of her babies. In the past few months you've lost two of the most important people in your life, both your first girlfriend and your first boyfriend. And honestly, from what I've heard, you've never been too bothered by the other two. Ronald is far more precious to you than either of them on an intimate level. You love him. It's only normal that you'd tighten your hold on Ronald and try to make sure you don't lose him too. Once bitten twice as shy. Thrice? Much like over compensating. It's normal, I'm sure he'll understand. Perhaps instead of being too protective, you should show him how not to make the same mistakes, and remind him how much he means to you, just in case. Ronald said he thinks he's a burden on you, perhaps you should help him with that, it'll help ease your worries and his."

"I should go and apologise," William said, his eyes, face and voice becoming cool, calm and blank once more, trying not to show how much the Undertaker's words had affected him. "And find out what Ronald and Grell are doing. Why is there so much noise out there?"

He stood and strode towards the door, leaving an untouched beaker of tea behind him, only for Grell to burst in with blood on his scythe, panting heavily. "Ronald. A demon, maybe one of those hybrids. He pulled him away. He looked like he was going willingly. Demons had that thing where they use lure victims in with charm and charisma, right?"

"It doesn't work on reapers," William snapped.

"What if it does for hybrids?" Grell said. "I didn't see his face but he took Ronnie. We have to find him."

"Do you see why I get so annoyed now? Because you keep putting him in danger. You should have protected him when those hybrids turned up and then you drag him out here only to watch him getting taken again? You're supposed to be a grown up, Sutcliff. You're supposed to be responsible."

"Will? I've never seen you like this."

William nodded slowly and closed his eyes for a moment, adjusting his glasses. Of course it wasn't like him. He needed to calm down and think rationally. It wasn't Grell's fault, there was no way he could have known things would go wrong. And William was the one who had upset Ronald this time. He'd told him to go home. He was only doing as he was told.

"You're right, Sutcliff, I apologise."

"It's ok, Will," he cried, throwing his arms around him. For once, William allowed him to stay there, clinging to him. "It's ok. You're hurting too. You're showing you're not so cold and heartless. You really cared about her."

"Yes, I suppose."

"So," the Undertaker said, chuckling slightly at William's annoyed glance. "If you two are finished?" Grell let William go and William quickly straightened himself out. "You should probably start moving before the creature gets too far away."

"If we don't find him soon we're going to have to tell Eric we lost him," Grell said. "That's not going to go down well."

Alan frowned as Eric offered him a bowl. He hadn't even known he was cooking anything, but there was a hot, steaming bowl. He licked his lips and took it slowly, glancing up at Eric, who looked very proud of himself.

"What is it?"

"Desert, what does it look like?" Alan took a spoonful and smiled. "Hot chocolate fudge cake with lovely chocolate custard. You can stop looking so sad now."

"I'm not looking sad," Alan said quietly, taking another mouthful and offering Eric a mouthful. "Am I?"

"Yes," Eric said gently. "It doesn't suit you." He sighed and wrapped his arms around Alan's shoulders, pulling him onto his lap as he ate quietly. "You know she wouldn't want this. It's almost like some sort of karma, isn't it? She helped you through when I had to fake my death, now I have to help you through her actual death."

"Stop saying that," he snapped.

"What?"

"Stop saying she's dead. She's not." He turned and glared up at him. "I can feel it, Eric, like I could feel you were still alive, in my gut, you know? She can't honestly be dead, can she?"

Eric sighed and leant his chin against his shoulder. "I don't know, sweetheart. I wish I could tell you she's out there somewhere, hiding and up to something, but I'm not sure I can buy even she's capable of getting out of this. I think perhaps we should just accept it and move on. If Michelle wants to hide, we're not going to find her. If she's alive, she'll find us when she's ready. You know that. There's no way of forcing Michelle's hand."

Alan nodded slowly. Eric was right, he supposed. Whatever was going on, if there was something going on, they were being kept in the dark. They didn't have much right to ask or be told anymore. Their division had higher security clearance than the rest of their co-workers at their rank, and Eric had higher security clearance than some of the management level reapers but since he left the Midnight Branch and returned to normal duty he no longer had the right to know about top secret operations unless they had a reason to involve him. For now, Alan decided he'd just have to accept that she was dead until there was news otherwise.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," Eric whispered. "Don't cry."

"Why did she have to die?" Alan whimpered.

"How do we go from she's not dead to she's dead in a matter of seconds?"

"You're not funny, Eric." Taking a spoonful of the cake, Eric muttered something that sounded like 'too bad' and Alan elbowed his lightly in the ribs. "Stop eating my cake. You don't make me something to cheer me up and then eat it yourself. Why don't you seem to care that Michelle is dead, Eric? Why don't you seem to give a damn about what happened to her?"

"Because you're in pain," he said gently, kissing his cheek. "I'd rather look after you first. Of course I care she's dead. Michelle was a good friend, she helped me through a lot, she looked after you for me and she saved you but... it could have been you or Ron. She made that choice. She knew the risks and she made her choice to save you two and try to save Maddie. She was a big girl, nothing you could have said or done would have stopped her, you know that and I know that. You're hurting though, and that's the most important thing to me."

"What about you though?" Alan said, popping in another spoonful of cake. "Shouldn't you take your time to grieve too?"

"I am, sweetheart," Eric said, stealing another bit of his cake as Alan glared up at him. "This is one slice of cake, there are also several baskets of chocolate cupcakes, which I'll probably give to Ron, he'll love them, a strawberry cheese cake and our lunch and dinners are sorted for the next three weeks."

"You cook when you're upset."

"Yep."

Alan smiled weakly and leant against Eric's chest as they shared the last of the cake. He closed his eyes and his thoughts drifted to William and Ronald. They knew William was still working. He was throwing himself into his work, like he always did when he was troubled. It seemed to be his natural reaction to anything negative; bury himself in work and completely ignore everything else. He wasn't sure that was very healthy but Ronald would make sure he took care of himself. He'd never seen William show too much emotion. Obviously, when he was off work and with Ronald he was softer and sweeter and seemed almost normal, but he didn't really smile, he just had a softer, more relaxed look on his face and in his eyes. He'd never really seen him lose his temper either or look hurt. There were moments were worry or fear would flash across his eyes for a moment, but then it was gone. The closest he'd got was when William and the others had killed Marcus for what he did for Ronald and once when he'd got into a fight with Eric. He wasn't sure what Eric had said but apparently William had appreciated it and Eric had come off worse when Alan and Ronald managed to get them apart. Even then, William had seemed so calm, like he wasn't really angry, just doing training or a job.

Grell was a mess too. He'd stopped by earlier in the day after being missing for over two days. He'd seemed so quiet and calm and normal. Seeing him acting like a normal, grieving friend was a little disconcerting. He was so quiet and still. And just like William, didn't want to talk about it. He'd been more interested what was going on with Ronald. Everyone seemed to be in denial.

There was a bang on the door and before either could say a word, or move, Grell burst in. "We need to go to the Undertaker's."

"What's happened?" Alan said quietly.

"Ronnie, a demon or a hybrid took Ronnie," Grell cried. "We need to find him. He's scared of them enough as it is-"

"Wait, what's happening?" Eric said. "What are you talking about?"

"We can fill you in on the way. For now, the Undertaker and Will and waiting. Impatiently."

A/N: Well hello from the bottom of the chapter. Yes, it's actually kind of weird writing at the bottom of the page today. There is a reason why I'm down here today, don't worry. Firstly, three daily updates in a row, go me. Don't start expecting daily updates all the time, I'm not that good. So... why am I down here? Because I didn't want to spoil the plot for this chapter. The plot can go one of two ways from here. One involves brianwashing Ronnie the other, is unbrainwashed but very bad Ronnie. Does anyone get the feeling Mina and I have a favourite character? I'm not sure which plot to use yet...

Also, my sister (not Mina, the baby sister who takes a basic interest in these things so she doesn't get left out) brought up an interesting question; we don't know the mechanics of how you become a demon or reaper, so what if you can somehow be turned from one to the other, so would Will still love Ronnie if he somehow ended up as a demon or would his hatred for demons be too much? Interesting question, one Mina and I couldn't agree on an answer for. I wish we knew more offical info about how the immortals work.

Anyway, thank you for reading and please review, thank you to all those who have and do.