A/N: Double Update time! Now I'm beginning to introduce other characters to this story to thicken the plot, Like adding flour to soup. So without further delay. WGTC! Here we go!
Warning: Slight OOC and Friendship love (NOT PAIRING... Yet) between two. But I want to show how this child does effect each of them.
Having a talking, walking, thumb sucking child wasn't reason enough for Undertaker to want to take off from work this late at night. He had decided that the first day he got Shellobeth, and he stood by his choice. With that, he had moved her cradle into the main room, directly next to his desk, and was now back to work with a rather strange young woman.
She has long, red hair tied back into several braids, ending in a somewhat fancy bun. Her sharp, red lips matched her hair, eyes, and clothing perfectly and hardly loosed their sharpness as she spoke in a somewhat broken tone.
"He was such a loving man, and we were expecting our first child together when it happened..." She concludes what ever it had been she was saying, pulling a hand-cloth out from her sling and wiping her teary eyes with them. "I would want that much to be included on the headstone as well."
Sounds of a pen scratching at paper answered her request as the silver-haired man wrote it down, stopping only once to turn and look at a small coffin that was laid beside him. Inside was a raven-haired infant, about six months old and already able to walk on her own and yet was powerless to ward off oncoming naps whenever they should come.
"I-Is she-?" The woman began when she finally took notice of the child but was quickly answered with a shake of the head.
"No. She is not dead." He almost sounded a tad scornful that she would even think such a thing... Almost "Far from."
"O-Oh... Is she yours?" The woman's voice sounded a tad lighter now, like all of her earlier sadness had been replaced with hopeful curiosity.
"Yes." It was a straightforward answer, which seemed very uncharacteristic of the retired reaper but at this point in time, he could really care less.
Really, on any other given day this would have been a normal funeral planning but today was different. It was the first time the little one had been burned in over six months. It was an accident though, the candle burnt a little to close to its holder where the child had been watching it curiously, she reached out her hand when no one was looking and then let out a terrible screech as the flame licked at her down-turned palm, just an hour before this strange woman shows up and begins to tell the already troubled parent about her late child.
"O-oh... Is her mother around?" It was as if this woman composed of pure red had been the flame that burned his daughter and was here now in physical form to purposely weigh on his nerves and piss him off.
"No." He began but then quickly added. "Vanished and is hopefully dead."
The woman took a slow step back, but then took another closer towards the cradle. A dead silence fell over the room and an awkward tension arouse with each step the woman took until she was right next to the sleeping child, a look of hazy and unfocused love was held in them as her red fingernails brushed the surface of Shellobeth's pink cheek. The tips lightly grazed the pink, but must have been a bit to rough as the child suddenly let out a squeak.
"Shes beautiful... May I hold her?" The woman all but whispered as the child was lifted quickly from her cradle by an over protective father.
She stretched out her hand and took the baby's bandaged one into her grip and held fast onto it, determined to get the baby into her arms, or at least that is how it had appeared.
"Only for a minute. I never got to hold my own child!" She practically cried out, almost desperately.
Just then, the child's eyes flickered open and she let out a loud cry, mainly due to the pain she now felt from pressure being on her burns, but also due to the tightness of the hold from both of the people holding her.
"Oh the poor girl. Here little one, let Madame Red take care of you." She took the child from the bewildered parent, who was still trying to think of a good thing to say in a situation like this but found himself at a loss for words.
The woman cradled the child with much care and kissed her tiny forehead and instantly the child calmed down, not because the woman was charming and her voice was soft as velvet, but because use of the name Red confused the child. She knew she had a friend who she called Red, and that he wore red and had red hair and matching nails, but the lack of glasses and the woman's red eyes over green really threw the child off.
"See, now that wasn't so bad now was it?" Madame Red cooed softly as she handed the child back to its father. "I wish I could have a beautiful child of my own to take care of. But sadly I am unable to bare them..."
A silence fell over the room again, so the woman decided to break it yet again.
"Such lucky people..." Her voice pulled him from his train of thought. "Never take this little one's life for granted... Once shes gone and out of your life there will be no getting her back."
That comment stung a bit worse then the burns on his daughter's hand must have because unlike the child who only yelped, the parent actually frowned for once. This was an odd thing for the man, who was used to death being a constant thing in his life. He frowned a bit more when he realized that he was acting more human than he should be. Humans were naturally drawn to the bitterness of the world, which is why they desire sweet things such as children and sugary foods, which were all things that reapers really didn't have a need for but simply used as a pass time. There really was no reason for him to acting this way and it annoyed him a touch. Huffing quickly, a quick glance at the clock suddenly gave him an excuse to rid this woman from his home.
"Awful late isn't it?" He questioned her suddenly, causing her to look up at that same clock.
"Oh... I suppose it is. I really must be going then. Good night all." And with that, she bowed her head and slowly turned on her heels and quickly existed the building.
"What a bitch." He muttered as he looked down at his blinking child.
"Dada!" She squealed happily as she waved around her bandaged hand and then yawned into it before drifting back to sleep.
"You're right Shelly. It is probably time for bed." He smiled widely at the sleeping infant before carrying her into her own bedroom and laying her down for sleep, then returned to his work at hand.
The woman's husband still needed to be prepared for his funeral, as well as the tombstone but before he could even get to that the door swung open and in came the red head, whose presence always seemed welcomed in the house since the baby's arrival.
"Evening Adrian." He started with a smile but then frowned when he saw the look of distress on his friend's face. "Whats wrong? Wheres that smile I'm used to seeing?"
"Its, been a long day." Undertaker muttered in a dazed voice, walking completely passed Grell and into the other room, more fixed with his work than the other.
"Seems like it." The redhead noted as he casually strode behind him with his arms clasped loosely behind his back. "Did something happen?"
"Just an accident with the baby." If the explanation didn't creep the red-head out, then the almost normal sounding voice did.
"W-what sort of accident?" Grell questioned, for once voicing concern for the child's life.
"She burned her left palm with a candle." A dim silence filled the room, other than the scraping of random tools being picked up and then set back down.
"Oh." Relief was present in the red-head's voice. "From the way you said it, you made me think she died or somethi-"
"Don't!" A scalpel was suddenly pointed at the red-head, who yelped rather loudly.
"Okay, okay!" Grell yipped, bringing his hands up to protect his face. "Will you at least tell me what happened!?"
"A woman came in today. She lost both her husband and child." The silver-haired man began suddenly, seemingly staring at (Or at least facing) the red head, with a look that was neither a smile or frown.
The red head shook his head, and then walked over to his friend to hug him around the shoulders. Sure, usually the morgue was a scary place, but at least then it was just a happy kind of crazy. This time, it was an almost depressing and silent place... Like an actual morgue!
"I don't even think that was a complete thought. You should rest and then tell me all about your troubles tomorrow when I'm more interested." He smiled brightly and tightened the hug but frowned when his friend appeared to be un-phased. "Stop that! Only Will is allowed to be unhappy all the time! You're supposed to be the happily insane man!"
A sudden bow of his friend's head is what really freaked the red-head out. Oh shit, this was serious! Quickly the red head walked to the kitchen section of the morgue, dragging the other behind him. As soon as they got there, he let go of him and rushed about, looking for the right supplies to make tea.
"This may take a while, so how about you tell me about what happened now?" The red-head called over his shoulder as he got a tea kettle and filled it with water. "Like why her burn was such a concern, she isn't even left handed. At least I don't think she is..."
"She is." The silver haired man spoke up quickly. "And she died when her first parents set her on fire."
"So the fact that technically you did the same thing her parents did bugs you." Grell finished up simply, turning his head for only a second.
At first, he thought about staying silent so that Undertaker could finish his story but then decided he already knew what he was going to say and would just finish the sentence for him.
"And that loving parent coming in today who just lost her own child, hm? That weird rather weird of you to actually care for something. Don't you think?" A nod answered, and even with his back turned, Grell still felt it. "Well, remember that Shelly is a reaper herself now. She can't die unless shes cut by her own scythe which she does not have yet."
"In a nutshell." The older reaper said, raising a single blackened nail in the air as he was handed a beaker by the red-head.
"Ooooh! Thats just too cute!" The red-headed reaper squealed happily.
"What is?" If his hair wasn't in his eyes, he'd be rolling them.
"The fact that your beating yourself up over all of this." He frowned before taking a sip from his own tea. "I'm just realizing how mean that sounded, but it is cute how you're handling this whole father thing."
"Explain." The red-head took this as a que to go on.
"Look, I know you probably feel like a bad parent now, and believe me you're not the only one that is A) going through this alone, and B) feeling this way. But the fact is that is how you know you're doing something right when you feel that much concern over your child over something small like a small cut or burn. Being a parent isn't preventing them from being hurt, its being there to pick them back up when they fall." He smiled softly and folded his arms back behind his back smartly. "End rant."
The silver-haired man smirked a little bit at the sound of this, hardly able to believe that the red-head was even saying this. He was used to the to other just being a pathetic, flamboyant corpse with not much more to live for. His very presence was usually just a hilarious running gag in all of their lives but now he was the most comforting person to be around. With a smile, he had to know one thing.
"You came up with this yourself?" He questioned with a wider smirk.
"Nah, Will had a calendar with quotes or something. Maybe it was in a doctor's office." Grell squinted, as if trying to call back the memory but quickly gave up and smiled. "Feeling better now?"
"Actually. I think I am." A signature giggle ended the sentence and assured both that everything was alright now. "Oh, and I forgot to ask why you came here in the first place."
"You know what. I forgot the moment I entered the place." The red-head's eyes suddenly drifted up to the second clock mounted on the wall. "Hm, one in the morning already? Well, I think now would be as good a time as ever for rest."
"Can't. To much work to do." Undertaker said with a shake of the head. "Might as well get it done now while Shelly is asleep."
"Just do it in the morning. I can babysit the little one so she won't be a bother." He strode off in the direction of a coffin and like all the other members of the house, got inside it.
"What are you doing?" The older man couldn't help but laugh at this.
"Its one in the morning and I'm going to bed." The red-head replied simply. "Oh. and I'm spending the night, now go to bed and quit bugging me."
A sudden cry erupted from the baby's room, causing both male's to groan as the sound assaulted their ears.
"OK, take care of the baby. And then go to sleep." Grell muttered with his hands over his ears.
"I thought you were supposed to be taking care of her." The child's father giggled as he patted the other's head.
"Tomorrow. I said I would take care of her tomorrow." He corrected him, waving his arm above his head where the hand was.
"Morning. You said morning, and its already one in the morning already." Undertaker pointed out.
"But I'm sleeepy!" Grell complained as he rolled over onto his side.
"So am I." He giggled softly at this response.
"Shes your baby!" The red-head said as he sat up rather quickly.
"Da!" A small voice pulled their attention away from each other as they both looked down at the crawling baby, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she crawled over to her dad and tugged at the bottom of his cloak. "Dada!"
"See? Its you she wants." Grell muttered as he laid back down and curled up for rest, not noticing the two had already left the room for much needed rest (and for Shelly's case, a much needed bottle and attention).