A/N: Anyone here who isn't into GrellxUndertaker, feel free to skip over this chapter. I am sorry if anyone is upset over the story taking a turn from Grelliam but this just kind of happened. I feel forced Grelliam wouldn't do them justice because I do love the couple, just maybe not for this story. I hope you still enjoy it! As always thanks for all the love this story gets, it means the world 3

Also, to the guest who mentioned William in their review, thank you! That guy is freaking hard to write.

The closer Grell came to the shop, the more vengefully his headache returned. He shifted from one foot to the other, hand on the door. There was something about this place that had been calling to him since he came back. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, the afterlife was boring and he could only pass so much time watching cinematic records and giving Alois manicures. He had visited with Madam Red a couple times since meeting her last week but she had a busy human life. He was also breaking a number of rules by fraternizing with her, not that he cared.

His life as a reaper was depressing and bland. His only source of entertainment was the occasional cinematic record of someone who had led an interesting life, but those seemed to be few and far between. He knocked on the door and waited a minute. No sound came from within.

"Hello again, doctor, or should I say reaper Sutcliff?"

Grell turned toward the distinct, smooth sound of Sebastian's voice. "Hello indeed, dear Bassy."

The demon joined him in front of the shop, hands clasped behind his back and pulling his shirt taut across his body. Grell looked him up and down appreciatively with a playful growl. "So did you come all this way to see little old me?" He batted his long, fake eyelashes.

"You did an excellent job of taking care of my young master before he came under my care. I was unable to thank you for that while you were trying to hack me up with a chainsaw."

Grell beamed at the compliment and tried (and failed) to look modest. "An affectionate swipe never hurt anyone."

"What brings you to a place like this, shouldn't you be working?"

What was going on? This gorgeous Adonis of a man was making polite conversation with him. Grell dug in his heels to keep from spinning in excitement on the spot. Ha, take that, William! He ran his finger down Sebastian's arm with a feral smile slowly spreading across his face. "I had the day off."

"Had it, or took it?" Sebastian arched an eyebrow (even that was sexy, damn him!) but looked more amused than anything.

"Perhaps took it is better phrasing, but I only had two reapings so it really doesn't matter. Besides there are far more enjoyable things we could talk about, all work and no play makes for veeeery dull conversation. And I don't like to be bored."

"Hm." Sebastian took one hand from behind his back to brace it on the door beside Grell's head. "I'm sure you did take it, you seem like one to take what you want."

Grell was fairly sure there was smoke coming out of his ears. He thought he had heard something about reapers and demons not getting along since demons ate souls, but at that moment he couldn't have cared less. "You're dead right about that."

"I never realized what a pleasant doctor my young lord had. Why don't we take this conversation somewhere a bit...warmer?"

His face was inches from Grell's now, his wine colored eyes going a tantalizing scarlet. Mesmerized by their deep red color, Grell nodded hard enough to knock his glasses askew. Sebastian smiled and reached for the red spectacles. He thought the demon was going to straighten them, but instead felt them being lifted over his head and the chain being slid out from under his hair.

"Oh, no, give those back," he said, reaching in what was undoubtedly the wrong direction.

Soft lips moved against his ear. "Forgive me, my red reaper, but I can't have you getting feisty."

He saw blurry streaks of silver between the demon's fingers that had been behind his back. The knives in his chest did not kill him but heavens did they hurt! He struggled against Sebastian, desperately trying to make his scythe materialize, to no avail. Sebastian apologized once more and twisted the four table knives that were in Grell's chest. His unfazed, casual tone was the last straw. Grell snarled and overpowered Sebastian's hands to take hold of the knives. He pulled them out, oddly fascinated by the trickle of blood that followed each one's departure from his body.

Sebastian lashed out with another handful of knives and there was a resonant clang as Grell met him halfway with the ones he had pulled from his chest. Grell ducked and rolled to the side to get away from the door he was cornered against. He lunged for Sebastian only to collide with a wall. Damn reaper's vision, even as a human he could have managed better than this. He shook off the pain and tried to orient himself again but there was already a row of knives protruding from his back.

"I like it rough as much as the next girl, but you're just not playing fair."

"This coming from someone who has such little regard for the rules."

Grell coughed straight blood as two knives entered his heart. He fell against the wall and slid downward as his knees refused to support him any longer. His eyesight told him Sebastian was quite far to his left, but he knew the demon was standing right over him. He clutched his chest, blood pumping out over his fingers. It was beautiful in its way. He had never seen a deeper shade of red. He smiled up at what appeared to him as an empty space, but he knew when he heard Sebastian gasp that he was spot on.

He curled his fingers around the handle of his chainsaw and it roared to life beside him. Legs trembling, he forced himself to his feet and raised his scythe. "Bassy, haven't you ever heard the expression? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Warm blood sprayed his face as his chainsaw met its mark. Sebastian blocked his next strike with his absurdly strong tableware. Sparks flew from the silver as the rapidly revolving chain worked against it. Grell pressed forward, knowing he couldn't keep this up for long. He was strong for a fledgling reaper but he still wasn't cut out for this kind of fight yet, especially half blind. Sebastian must have known this because he went on the offensive twice as hard.

"My, it seems you rely too heavily on this sickle of yours."

Grell was going to demand what he meant when he felt the vibrations running through the chainsaw come to a stop. Sebastian's leg was pouring blood but there was also a piece of his trousers wrapped around his death scythe, halting its movement. Grell began pulling at the obstruction frantically. He backed up, Sebastian following at a calm pace. The demon knew he had won.

Sebastian ripped the scythe out of his hands and the chains began spinning again. "A tricky fabric, isn't it?"

Grell covered his face as a spinning mass of silver came toward him. Come now, why did everyone always go for his face? He ducked his head and awaited the blow.

It never came.

Before he could register what was going on, there was an arm under his back and another under his knees. He put up a halfhearted fight with what was left of his strength. "Are you killing or kidnapping me, make up your mind!"

"Neither, my lady. I took care of your friend there."

Nice to meetcha, my lady. "Undertaker."

A door opened and he was carried into a room that his very heart recognized. He could smell biscuits baking in the next room paired with the earthy aroma of fresh cut wood. His headache returned full force to join the assortment of aches and pains throughout the rest of his body. He let his head loll against the black robed man's shoulder, moaning. The man chuckled.

"I don't want to hear you crying, I'm the one who thought you were dead."

Trying to sort out the memories that had just returned to him hurt his head, so Grell pushed them away for the time being. "I guess you came out to see what the commotion was?"

"Oh no, I couldn't hear a thing from my coffin. I just came out to get the newspaper. Probably would have been awhile before anybody found ya, most folk don't come around this part of town this late in the evening."

Grell winced as he was laid down on a hard surface. "Is this the same coffin? I know plenty of people must have died since I was in college."

A scarred face obscured by silver hair came into focus as Undertaker put his glasses back on. Long fingernails brushed his cheek and he shivered. The present disappeared for a moment and was replaced by a memory of being in this same place, much longer ago, sitting up with one hand braced on the side of a coffin and the other around Undertaker's neck. He could see his own shoulder length hair clinging to the side of his face with sweat. Those overgrown nails left scrapes on his back as he moved atop Undertaker's lean but muscular body.

"Grell?"

He didn't know he was making sounds of pain until he snapped back to reality and found himself curled on his side, clutching his head. Undertaker stroked his hair in a familiar gesture but thinking back to their time together sent a fresh bout of agony through Grell's body.

"I'm sorry. I'm the one who did this to you."

"What?" Grell pulled himself into a sitting position, one hand pressed to the side of his head.

"You never should have remembered what I took from you. I never counted on you bein' a reaper. What your mind is going through, a human couldn't survive it."

Grell huffed. "Lucky them."

"Don't you dare say that, not after I just got you back."

Grell snatched the man by the throat, satisfied by the feeling of his manicured fingernails digging into Undertaker's soft flesh. "My memories are still a hot mess, but I know I was right here with you until the end. You're the one who took what we had away."

"You don't understand." Undertaker did not fight back, letting his head fall forward against Grell's hand.

A bead of blood welled up on his pale neck and trickled down to his robe. Grell released him, eyes fixed on the wet, red trail. He tried to unscramble the mess in his head but the harder he tried, the less sense it made. The effort left him with no more than a throbbing in his temples and the knowledge that he had found the other man he'd loved, only to discover one more person who had broken his heart. Undertaker had taken every moment they'd spent in love and replaced it with a hollow friendship.

Venting his anger was the only relief he had found from the pain so far. He dug his nail into the small wound on Undertaker's neck and brought his face up to the other reaper's. "Then make me understand," he said, heart racing at the warmth of blood on his finger.

The room spun and then his lips were claimed in a kiss that almost split his head with pain but he welcomed it with open arms; it only served to intensify the pleasure. He kissed Undertaker until his mouth felt bruised. At some point his suit jacket was left abandoned on the coffin and he ended up against a wall. He snarled and ripped Undertaker's robe down the middle to reveal the nearly translucent skin underneath. He kissed and nipped his way from Undertaker's neck to his chest, smearing them both with blood. Undertaker snatched his wrists and pinned them to the wall above his head.

"There you go," Grell purred, all too happy to surrender.

"No."

Grell frowned, some of the wind going out of his sails. "No, what?"

"Not like this. I won't hurt you, not even if it's what you want. I've hurt you enough."

Before Undertaker released him and turned away, Grell glimpsed his eyes burning with both desire and shame. He rubbed his wrists, unsure how to react. The pain had been bliss for him. He watched Undertaker go into the next room to take up the biscuits but didn't follow. He could remember enough to know this wasn't the way they had been before, but of course it was going to be different, they were different. That was years ago. Grell was a grim reaper, he wasn't the little flower that he used to be. It wasn't the most ladylike thing, but he had to admit he had gone rough around the edges.

Undertaker returned with a plate of bone shaped biscuits. He held out the plate with a smile as if they hadn't been clawing at each other like a couple of animals less than five minutes ago. Grell tried not to stare at his still bare chest. It clearly wouldn't do him any good to get riled up, though it was already too late for that. He wanted Undertaker wrapped around him again more than he wanted air in his lungs.

He nibbled at the corner of a biscuit that tasted of butter and sugar. "I'm not the same person I was. I'm not even a person now."

"S'alright." Undertaker leaned against the wall next to him and bit his own biscuit in half. "Whatever you are, I guess I'll just love that too."