Four months had passed since the attack, right down to the hour. Four months since Grell Sutcliffe's perfect life had been torn asunder by the lust of a demon. The heavy snow had buried her husband's home for the winter months; before it got too bad they managed to get his coffin out to bury him in. Before Grell could enter the small cabin and pack away her dearly departed Undertaker's things for storage, the storms had began. It was past midnight and Grell had snuck out to go retrieve what she could. She knew she wanted to retrieve two things; one, the small box of frankinscence and myrrh he had, and two, the few tea tins he held so dear. Out of everything he owned she knew he favored those above all of all his possessions. He would often serve Grell some tea when she came over and burnt the incense when they made love; he never really explained why but Grell appreciated it. After being deprived of his physical presence for so long she yearned to have some sort of essence of him around her. Besides the point, if all her baby had was his title what else would she have of her father? While her baby was unborn, the fetus deserved to be inadvertently introduced to her father while she still grew. Maybe the red-head hoped he'd be born again through her? Either way, despite William's protests, she had snuck out and taken a horse to ride on, and didn't care much if she got in trouble.

The spring air was chilled even without the wind, she could still see her breath in the air like winter still clinging to the autumn. No, it was spring now; death and the afterlife had produced a season that was now moving on from infantile bonds. Autumn had passed on, winter still kissing her red, coppery eyelids as he raised Heaven and Hell to avenge her. Spring arose in avengeance to her mother and pronounced life through the death of her father; life would always revive itself after death. Grell touched her swollen belly, a small kick touched her fingers. She giggled, "Oh, my little girl is so lively,"

She rubbed her tummy, "You go on back to sleep though. You need your rest, Undrea,"

Undrea...It was such a proper name, Grell thought. Her husband did too, she could recall the countless times after their lovemaking he'd lay his head against her belly. He'd speak of the children they'd have, and the names they'd give them. Six girls, always the same number and gender. She giggled again, just five more to go.

"Mm...Oh Grell..." he kissed her jaw softly, laying his head softly on her shoulder as their limbs remained entwined. He laid atop her like dead tree to the wintry earth; having simply accomplished his reason for being and was now resting in the white, numbing bliss of winter, "That was much better than a laugh,"

Grell stroked his hair, cuddling him softly as she lie beneath him, nuzzling his neck, "Hm, so sweet,"

She yawned a bit, stretching her arms as far as she could in the coffin, "I don't want to go back to work tomorrow,"

Undertaker pressed one of his long black nails to her lips, "Ah, but if you never returned to the Labyrinth I could not have the pleasure of preparing those wonderfully executed bodies for the oven,"

"But then I could stay here, with you, and become a traditional wife," Grell cooed, tickling his ribcage softly. He grabbed her hand and pulled it off of his ribcage, speaking somberly for a moment as he brought her delicate hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips, "I do not want tradition, Grell. I want you to use your body, a body I manufactured, to its full potentional. A lady such as youself, chiseled in such perfection, should not waste her beauty or strength. Too many times have I seen it end a woman's life; such a simple life with little growth and simple death. I do not want that for you Grell, and damned I shall be to let you die by something so common as childbirth. I refuse to let Charlotte, Judith, Bridget, Margeret, Grace, and Andrea live without their mother,"

Grell shivered-she simply melted when he spoke so somber and passionate at once, "Then why six children?"

He smiled eeriely, kissing her palm, "Because we have no legacy to leave,"

He kissed her palm again, "I'll go make some tea,"

Grell grunted as she squatted down to the floor, her pregnant belly didn't make it any easier, while she rummaged through the trunk where her husband stored his incense and tea. Having never looked in the trunk she didn't know it'd be such a hassle! In the trunk he had many other trunks, smaller and stacked above one another. All of them were locked! Knowing her husband, he probably kept them hidden under his sleeves. How on earth he could fit such weapons and items in his sleeves was beyond her, then again he was a shinigami much like herself. He probably just materializied them. Sighing, she pulled a bobby-pin from her hair and bent it in a certain way. Grunting again, she decided to sit back with her legs crossed as she pick-locked the smaller trunks. One after the other she noted how many strange possessions her deceased husband had. He had many colorful bottlies either with powder or strange fluids; each was locked like a poison drip; they must've been for work. He also had a few trunks of many small journals, she set them aside. Other trunks had small weapons, and others were so long they held these wooden, flat spikes. Others held what seemed to be dried, tissue samples and even small puppets with metal scraps on differemnt parts of their bodies. Had he moved the incense and tea?

"Grell?"

She turned around, no one was there. She waited a moment to turn back around and look through the trunk. It was about nine trunks later when she finally came across a small trunk containing the tea tins, and the one adjacent to it held the incense. Sighing in relief she removed the satchel from her back and placed the small trunk of incense in first, and then put the individual tins of tea on top. She then put all of the other trunks back in the main trunk and locked each one before locking the larger trunk. She placed her satchel on top of the trunk before grabbing the edges and balancing herself as she stood, it was hard enough sitting down with her pregnant belly. It was harder getting back up.


"Where were you?" William sat up from the bed, glaring at Grell through his glasses. Grell rolled her eyes and removed her boots, setting then down in the closet before she started to undress.

"I went out for a ride," she set the satchel down in the back of the closet. William had given her a section of his own closet, so she felt comfortable leaving the satchel there for the night, "I couldn't sleep,"

"No, you did not," William stood from the bed, approaching her as she undressed. He swallowed hard, why did she have to undress so carelessly in front of him? Despite her pregnant state she managed to keep her limbs so tone and slim, and no doubt the creams she was using kept any appearimg stretch-marks at bay. How she was able to maintain such an attractive state was beyond him; there was a stirring in his loins. Four months...Four months added onto the years he had been unable to touch another. She was slipping the nightgown on, her body just a few items short of being completely bare. He reached for her, pulling her back into his embrace. She gasped, obviously startled, and grimaced as he took in the scent of her hair, "Our baby needs his rest,"

"Her rest, William," she shrugged him off. He frowned and turned her around, cupping her chin, "We can never tell,"

He leaned forward, "You shouldn't go wandering around in the middle of the night,"

His thumb touched the side of her mouth, "There are many demons still out there that, without a second thought, would take you from me,"