A/N: I'm way overdue for an update on this. Sorry. I've been on Avengers high. (BEST. MOVIE. EVER. OH MY GOD. GO SEE IT. NOW. "Hulk...smash.") So apparently I'm in a write-despressing-reaper-stuff-involving-Eric-and-Alan mood because I posted The Last Lights last week...what is wrong with me. OTL So yes. Very sad chapter ahead, you've been warned. (But it has a really cute ending.) This is also a special chapter because it's the first chapter that parts of it (most of it, actually...) aren't in Chastity's point of view. Um...you'll probably want to watch the musical if you haven't already seen it to understand this chapter...and if not, here's to hoping you'll just figure it out. XD Enjoy and review, my little green rage monsters! (...Okay I'll stop it with the Avengers stuff now.)
Chapter 12- That Reaper, Ghosts of the Past
I stared. Who the heck were they?
Ronald visibly tensed and bit his lip. "They were amazing. I loved them more than anything. Alan was so kind and caring and was always looking out for me, and Eric was like my older brother. Most people actually thought that- we both had blonde and black hair, the same shape of our faces and we were both party animals who loved to drink." The muscles used to create smiles twitched, but he blinked and swallowed any beginnings of one. "They were also more experienced than me, and kind of took me under their wings. I looked up to them. They were my idols."
I couldn't help but notice he was speaking all in past tense. "Was one of them your partner?"
Ronald let out a tiny, sad chuckle. "Oh, no. They were as much each other's partner as they belonged to each other."
"They were a couple?"
"Duh. No matter how much Alan denied it." Another strained laugh. "It was sickeningly sweet, but adorable, really. I mean, Eric used to be a ladies man- where do you think I get it from?- but I, uh, kinda flipped out every time he broke up with someone. Anyway, not the point."
Playboys. So predictable. I clasped my hands together in my lap. "How'd you all meet?"
He glanced slightly away, eyes glazing over as if fond memories were playing in front of them. "Well…"
"Gentlemen, your attention."
"Ugh…wutisit, Will?"
"Refrain from referring to me as 'Will', Mister Slingby. And I am here to announce the newest member of our division. I'd like you to meet Mister Ronald Knox."
Everyone stopped and lifted their heads to stare at the new reaper.
Nervousness wise, it really wasn't helping.
The young blonde offered a shaky smile, his golden green gaze flicking from death god to death god, hoping they couldn't see him trembling. He ran a jittery, black-glove hand through his messy buttercup and raven hair, trying to calm his raw nerves. He was to be the youngest in the division he had just joined. After all, he only just graduated. Would they accept him? Or just label him a stupid kid who didn't know what he was doing?
Most of the workers gave a polite nod of acknowledgement towards him before instantly going back to their work. Was that a good thing or bad thing?
"Calm down, kid. We don't bite."
A hand suddenly on his shoulder and a deep voice rumbling behind him was enough to make him let out a sharp, frightened yelp and jump.
A chuckle. "What're you, kid, a Chihuahua? You're small, shaky, and get scared by everything. Wipe that holy-crap-I-just-saw-a-ghost look off your face and I can help you get started, kay?"
The teen, still quivering, turned to the man behind him.
He was extremely tall and muscular, his eyes behind blue-tinted glasses twinkling with amusement. Stray locks of his long, vivid yellow hair fell into his face, the rest framing his neck and shoulders. His hair suddenly switched to tight cornrows decorating the right side of his head, black as the scruff on his chin. He wore no vest over his white shirt under his unbuttoned jacket, letting his tie spill down his chest. "What's your name, kid?"
The young blonde gulped. "Uh, Ronald. Ronald Knox, sir."
"You're a cute little thing, Ron." The man grinned, ruffling his hair. "Eric Slingby, senior member," he stated in a self introduction.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mister Slingby."
Eric smiled. "Oh, just call me Eric. Mister Slingby makes me feel old."
Ronald nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Don't call me sir, either."
"Oh. Um, sorry."
Eric laughed. "You're polite. I like you, kid. We could definitely use more of that around here."
"Oh, no, everyone else is. It's just you."
Ronald turned to a small, lithe brunette to his left, a tiny smile gracing his fine, pale, specific features. He was about a quarter of an inch shorter than himself, his thin frame sporting a suit with a silver, skull shaped bolo tie hanging around his neck in the place of a usual tie. His short, rich chocolaty hair was combed and glossy but still had a tousled, wind-swept look to it. He reached up to gently nudge his wiry glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Really, Eric, you're scaring the poor thing half to death." His voice was calm and even, but was obviously trying to conceal laughter.
Eric snorted. "Please. I was just introducing myself. Not my fault he's jumpy like a tree frog."
Ronald gave an apologetic smile and anxiously laughed.
The brunette gave a teasing roll of his eyes. "I bet you're not helping." He turned to Ronald and extended a hand. "Alan Humphries. Welcome to the department."
"Thank you very much." Ronald slid his hand into Alan's and firmly shook it. "Ronald Knox. Pleasure, Mister Humphries."
"You can just call me Alan, if you'd like."
Ronald cocked his head. "Does everyone here go by their first names?" That was certainly different than how he was to address his superiors at the academy.
Eric shrugged. "Eh. Pretty much. I mean, I guess it's because we're all colleagues and are sick of calling everyone 'sir' or 'ma'am' in the academy."
Ronald nodded. He was tired of that as well.
"So, Ronald," began Alan. "Have you taken the tour yet?"
"Um, no s- Alan." Tours were offered to students of the main campus so they would at least vaguely know their way around when they graduated and chose their departments, but Ronald had been sick that day and couldn't make it. (Or, at least, that's what the teachers thought. In reality, he had previously scheduled a group date with Lainie, Belle, Sarah, McKenzie, and Tawni, and there was no way he was missing it.)
Eric glanced at Alan. "Should we show the kid around? We're on our break."
"Sure." Alan gave a soft, gentle smile towards Ronald that melted away every last bit of his anxiety. "Come along, Ronald. Allow us to show you the ropes of the Death God Dispatch Society."
Ronald grinned right back. "My pleasure."
I chuckled softly. "I can't imagine you being nervous around people you don't know. You're so suave and cheerful all the time…in a room full of strangers, you could instantly get all the guys to like you and probably get one of the girls in your bed."
Ronald laughed. "What? It was my first day. I was scared. You would've been, too."
"Oh, pfft. I NEVER get scared."
"Cuz you're just that awesome?"
"Cuz I'm just that fricking awesome, Blondie." I giggled, tilting my head to look up at him. "Well, that's not bad. Then why do you never talk about them?"
My only reply was silence.
"Eric! Hey Eric! Where're you going? Can I come with?"
The older reaper, startled and tense, whipped around. "Noth-! Oh, Ron, it's just you."
Ronald tipped his head. "Of course. Where are you going? And…why do you have your death scythe?"
Eric blinked and gulped, quickly shoving the large saw behind his back. "I'm going out reaping."
"Huh? Then why aren't you taking Alan with you?"
"Oh. Uh, Alan's sick."
At least that bit was true.
Ronald frowned. "A cold?"
"Sure."
"Oh. Then can I come with you? I'll be your partner for a day!" Ronald suggested brightly.
Disappointment and refection stirred in his eyes as Eric looked down and shook his head. "Oh, that's alright, kid. I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage on my own."
Ronald frowned. "Doesn't' boss always say it's safer to take someone with you?"
Eric took a deep breath. "I just need some alone time, kid." (Even after knowing each other for a good while now, Eric still insisted on calling him that.)
Ronald bit his lip. "Why? Are you mad at one of us? At me?"
"No! No, of course not." He ruffled his hair affectionately. But then why was there sorrow in his eyes? "I could never get mad at you, Ron. You're my darling little brother."
Ronald fixed his haired, relieved, but still confused. "Then why-?"
"I have my reasons," he snapped quickly in reply. Too quickly.
"Eric," Ronald began, slowly. He had been acting strange lately, sure, but he was never like this. Dripping suspicion began to edge into his voice. "Why do you have your death scythe behind your back?"
Eric shifted nervously. "I don't want to accidentally hurt you with it."
Something wasn't right. "You've show it to me thousands of times and nothing happened!"
"Drop it, Ron…" growled Eric, beginning to back up towards the door.
"Eric, what is it? Why can't you tell me?" cried Ronald, worried and betrayed-feeling. Since the day the two had met, they had formed an incredible bond that was stronger than steel and grew by the day, the two even proclaiming each other brothers. Eric had always trusted him enough to tell him anything- from the day's events to his deepest secrets- and every bit of it was mutual. What was so dark that Eric couldn't even tell Ronald?
Eric remained quiet, shaking his head, biting his bottom lip.
"Eric!" Unable to take the unbearable torture of not knowing anymore, Ronald ran up and gave a rough yank to an arm tucked behind his back, sending his saw to come plummeting to the floor, colliding with the ground with a loud clank.
Eric stood frozen in horror as the teen shakily bent down next to the scythe, drawing a finger cautiously along the blade and holding the warm, thick, sticky crimson liquid up to his terror-wide eyes. "Eric? Is this…blood?"
"It was a reaping accide-"
"Reaping has nothing to do with blood, Eric! You just collect the soul and go. No blood! No ordinary reaping could've done this! What did you do?"
He and Eric locked gazes. Eric uttered no words- his eyes spoke for him. 'I'm sorry. I wish there were no secrets, but this is the way it had to be.' He bent down and quickly snatched his scythe, bolting out the door and disappearing into the shadows of the night, leaving a confused, horrified, and very, very hurt blonde screaming after him.
"Eric! Eric, wait! Eric!"
"Blondie? Blondie? Hello?"
My partner was staring off into the distance, lost in his mind. I could practically see shadows of dark memories dance in front of him. He was totally still as if in a trance.
"Ronald?" I spoke in a softer tone this time, my voice just barely over a whisper. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a small, pitiful whimper, a single tear sliding down his cheek, staining the skin it had slithered by with the salty droplet. "Oh, God, no," he winced frantically, as if caught up in a tragic memory. "Oh, God, boss, please tell me you're kidding. Tell me you're kidding! There's no way that…they can't be…dead."
"Hey, everyone!"
The beaming blonde skipped into the room, his grin ever-present and his energy boundless as usual.
But he was a stray beam of sun falling on dark clouds.
He stopped, looking around, frowning, brow furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong?" The usual cheerful chatter that always filled the morning air had diminished. Smiles ceased to exist. Solemn hung so thickly in the air you could slash it.
The workers, confined each to his own world of solitude, didn't look up. Didn't even acknowledge him. Just kept sadly studying the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
He cocked his head and walked over to a Rapunzel haired scarlet reaper sitting on a desk, shoulders hunched, sobbing muffled behind the perfectly manicured hands covering his face.
The young lawnmower-wielding death god cautiously tapped his shoulder. "Grell? Grell, what happened?"
Grell lowered his hands, revealing eyes red and puffy from crying and sniffed. "You haven't heard yet?"
Ronald shook his head.
Grell gulped. "Awful things, Ronnie, awful things…"
"Like what? And where are William, Alan and Eric?"
He only sobbed harder.
"Allow me to explain."
Ronald spun around to face his stern-faced superior. "Boss! What's going on?"
William was emotionless as ever, but his eyes, way, way, WAY down deep, showed…loss? Sadness? "What do you think?"
"Boss? Where's Eric and Alan?" Ronald asked slowly and shakily. His heart, fluttering like a captured butterfly in the cage of his ribs in his chest, stopped at the next words out of his mouth.
"They're dead."
"Ronald! Ronald, are you okay?"
I was beginning to get seriously concerned. He kept his eyes shut painfully, muttering to himself about Eric and Alan, begging for something not to be true, chocking out something about thorns. Whatever happened that day must've been absolutely awful if it was too much for Ronald- chirpy, bright, energetic, optimistic, boyish, strong Ronald- to bear.
Unsure of what else to do, just desperate to find a way to comfort him, I reached over and softly rested my hand atop his. "Ronnie," I whispered. "Ronald, it's okay. Everything's alright now. I'm right here."
I let out a quick, sucked-in gasp of surprise as a sudden pair of arms wrapped around me, one clasped onto my shoulder blades, the other hooked firmly under my arms, pressing me against another body in one, quick, jerky movement. I felt it tremble against my own, hot drops trickling cheeks, wetting the fabric of my shirt. I looked down in shock, before slowly raising a hand to stroke soft strands of blonde hair. "Shh. It's alright, Blondie. It's okay."
Ronald's only response was a high whimper, muffled from being buried in my shoulder.
I might be loud. I might be obnoxious. I might be dimwitted. I might be arrogant and self absorbed. I might be irritating. But I loved my moron of a partner, my best friend, so I did what any friend would.
I placed my arms around him and held him for however long it took, whispering to him comfortingly, promising I'd be there for however long he needed me.
