On they went through the night, seeking shelter when the Royal Army dropped more bombs and doing their best not to attract the attention of the few mortals still out and about. It was one of the most difficult collection assignments William had ever seen. They had to reap a couple of children and even an infant in the process. He quietly worried that Ronald might break over that, but he was one of the most objective reapers of his generation, and the blond held strong. By the time they finished their assigned task, both of them were exhausted, and the bombing raid had finally come to an end.
The sun was beginning to rise as they made their way to the open portal to the Shinigami realm at the northern edge of the city, their feet dragging with weariness. As they approached the portal, William looked at his companion; who for once was quiet and rather subdued. "Good work, Knox," he offered—and coming from him, praise was a rare thing. "You may finally achieve that long sought-after promotion, if you continue to perform like this."
It was going to get harder before it got easier, but at least they hadn't run into any demons during this assignment. He imagined it was too difficult for the creatures to form a contract in the face of such swift death. Sutcliff and Jeffries were more likely to face demonic activity with their assignments than he and Knox were, in fact. The concentration camp prisoners had time to build up desperation and bitterness as they watched family and friends get executed, after all.
"It's just…my job." Ronald mumbled as they approached the portal back to the safety of their realm, "I should be able to handle this just as well as the collections I did back home in London. Young women and babies die all the time."
But it wasn't the same, and he knew it. He was used to such death being caused by illness or a hard life and lack of nutrition. Sometimes abuse—which was hard on him, but he managed. War, however, was needless. He felt more like his work was adding to the suffering of the world rather than ending suffering. So many casualties; so many lives that otherwise would have lived much longer if the violence of war hadn't intervened and changed fate.
However, a good reaper never let his emotions affect his job. They had no place on the field, and Ronald wasn't about to let them all out in front of his boss who had just praised him for his performance on the field—which admittedly wasn't his best work. More than a few times he'd been shocked and William had to snap him back into the right mind-set.
William paused at the portal, his soot-smudged face turning toward the bomb-ravaged city. "It goes beyond that," he murmured. "You have never been subjected to working under conditions like this. Nor have I, for that matter. Barring demonic interference, the only real threat we usually face on the job is the risk of cinematic records becoming hostile and overwhelming us. Had this been an ordinary assignment, we no doubt would have finished in half the time. This is far more brutal than our usual work, Mr. Knox."
Confident now that he'd chosen his partner for this endeavor wisely, William nodded at the portal. "We should go now, while it is still quiet enough to get through without obstacles. Our belongings should be waiting at our accommodations on the other side, and we can shower, eat and rest up after turning in our collections and reports. I believe we'll have one day's reprieve before we must move on to the next location with our new death list."
Ronald nodded and stepped up to the portal, pausing just as he was about to step through, "First shower dibs." He said before hopping through before William could protest—assuming he would.
With a sigh, the older reaper followed.
They turned in their collections and reports first, and then they went straight to the hotel they'd been assigned to. While waiting on his turn for the shower, William phoned room service for some breakfast and then he called London Dispatch to relay his report to Eric and Alan personally. Berlin Dispatch was going to send copies anyhow, but he felt more secure giving his own verbal account of their endeavors.
"So how was tha first day, boss?" Eric asked him.
"Bloody awful," admitted William, too tired to play it off any differently. "We are back at our hotel now, preparing to freshen up and get some rest before moving on. How have things been going over there?"
"Hasnae fallen apart yet," assured Eric. "Al's go' tha paperwork side of it handled an' I'm taking care of reaper dispatching. Try not tae worry 'bout us, Spears. Jus' concentrate in keeping yerself and Ronnie in one piece through this. I dun' want this job permanently."
William smirked wryly, and he glanced at Ronald as the blond came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a damp, mussed hair. "I shall keep that in mind. I'd better let you go now, so that I may get cleaned up. Take care, Mr. Slingby."
He hung up and regarded his youthful companion quietly for a moment. "Our meal should arrive on a cart within the next ten minutes, so do stay awake and listen for the knock while I shower."
"I'll try." Ron yawned, letting himself fall face-first across the foot of the bed closest to the door and bathroom. He then rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, "Water pressure is low in the shower, fair warning."
With a groan, he pushed himself up and walked over to the drawer where he'd tossed his few belongings that he didn't need in the bathroom, taking out a fresh pair of bright orange boxers to put on. While he preferred sleeping in the nude, he was sharing a room with his boss—who might not appreciate having such a sight. And the last thing they needed was an awkward disagreement. They were partners for the next unknown amount of months, after all. Best to keep the peace.
William bowed his head once he was in the shower, closing his eyes as he let the warm, weak spray rain on him. The current state of affairs in the mortal realm affected him more than he let on. These were his mother's people, committing these crimes against humanity. True they were mortal and she'd been a reaper, but he felt a sense of shame nonetheless. He honestly chose Grell to oversee the assistance in the concentration camps because he wasn't entirely sure he could bear to do it himself.
He remained that way for a while, just letting the water wash over him as if it could wash away his feelings. When it started to go cool, he hurried it up and lathered his body with the cake of soap, before shampooing and rinsing his hair. When he came out he found that the food had arrived and Ronald was sleepily eating his share at the little table, dressed in a pair of orange boxers that would have really clashed on most anyone else—yet they suited him. The boy had one elbow propped on the table and his cheek resting in his palm as he ate with half-closed eyes.
Smirking a little at the sight, William tightened the belt of his bathrobe and he went to retrieve his own plate. "Try not to plant your face in your meal, Ronald," he warned as he joined him at the table. He poured himself some juice from the pitcher and he solicitously refilled the blond's glass.
"At least the pillow would be tasty." Ron shrugged, nodding in thanks for the refill, "And I am almost done and can soon move back over to the bed." He straitened in the chair and stretched, "Feels nice to be clean again, though. Today was…rough…"
William nodded in accord. "Agreed." He cut off the end of a sausage and pierced it with his fork. "Thankfully, we have time to rest and recuperate before moving on."
He was vaguely grateful as well that they'd seen fit to put them in a room with twin beds. Sleeping in the same one as Ronald might prove awkward, as he was quite used to sleeping alone and he had no idea of the blond's sleeping habits. He looked out the window when he heard a tap against the glass, and he found a pigeon looking in at them curiously. A rare smile curved the brunet's lips as he thought of his own bird companions at home. Without a thought for it, he tore off a couple pieces of his croissant and got up with them in his palm.
"No need to be alarmed, friend," he murmured as he slowly opened the window and the bird hastily backed up a little. He only opened it enough to slip his hand underneath and deposit the offering on the sill. "There you are. Enjoy."
The pigeon regarded the pieces of bread curiously, before cooing and approaching it with caution. William stood back and watched the animal enjoy the treat, feeling oddly comforted by its presence.
"You like birds?" Ron asked, shoveling the last bite of his supper into his mouth and moving to put the dishes he used back on the tray it had been brought up to them on.
William nodded. "I've developed a certain mild affection for some species, yes. Pigeons are quite social, and they make good message carriers."
He turned from the window and he went back to the table to finish his meal. Not usually one for small talk, he realized he didn't know much about Ronald Knox aside from his love for partying and sleeping. He was a good agent aside from those two factors, but that was the extent of his knowledge. Generally not the sort to seek out personal information about his subordinates, William found himself curious. He watched the younger reaper put away his dishes and he looked away when Ronald bent over.
"Have you a favorite animal, Knox?" he queried conversationally, putting his attention firmly on his unfinished food.
"Mmm, sure." Ronald shrugged, straitening up and climbing into the bed he had claimed as his for their stay in Germany, "I'm fond of foxes. I found a baby kit when I was four or five, and I thought it was a puppy. its mother had been caught by hunters in a fox hunt and so I took it home with me and begged my parents to let me keep it…I named it 'Puppy'."
William snorted softly. "And did they allow you to keep it?"
"Eventually." Ron nodded, "Until it pooped in my mom's shoe."
William coughed on his juice, and he quickly covered his mouth with a napkin. "I…see." He didn't know why he was so interested in the boy's past; except that it help relieve him of his own inappropriate turmoil. "What happened with this fox kit after that?"
"It was grown by then. My father took it away and I cried and threw a fit. I still don't know what happened to him."
"Pity," offered William solicitously—and he was actually sincere about that. "My parents never allowed pets of any sort."
He finished off his hash and started on the sausage. "That was why I spent so much time in the park, feeding the pigeons. I also constructed a bird feeder in our yard to attract visitors. My father caught me petting a dove that had become familiar enough with me to allow my approach, and he lectured me about lice and diseases the animals carry. Of course that seemed ridiculous to me, considering reapers are immune to disease and parasites find us unpalatable. I still believe he saw it as a weakness, to express fondness for other creatures."
William smirked without amusement. "It's a wonder the man managed to marry and reproduce at all. He seemed incapable of love."
"You mean there's a guy out there who's even more all-business-no-play than you? Scary. Wouldn't want to meet that guy." He adjusted the pillows on the bed and laid down, "Do you have a pet bird now, then? You're an adult, free from Daddy's 'no affection allowed' rules."
"Just the pigeons I sometimes use to relay messages when I'd rather not use a telephone," answered the brunet.
He finished the rest of his meal and his drink, and then he put his plate back on the tray and wheeled it out for room service to pick up. He went to his suitcase to select his pajamas for the night and then he excused himself to the bathroom to put them on. When he emerged again, he was dressed in a pair of plain, royal blue silk pajama bottoms. He went to the unclaimed bed and turned it down, before climbing in and dimming the lamp.
"Sleep well, Mr. Knox," he offered with a yawn. "And for once, you will not be penalized for sleeping in when morning comes. We do need to be up and moving again by noon, however."
"Fair warning…I'm not a morning person." Ron yawned, "Grell usually assaults me with a pillow or something to get me up. I like sleep." He shifted in bed with a groan, cradling his face in a pillow, "Night, Senpai." he took off his glasses and set them on the table between the beds.
William watched the younger reaper for a few moments as Ronald closed his eyes, and then it occurred to him that he was staring—and he'd neglected to remove his own glasses. He remedied that and placed them next to Ronald's, nearly missing the nightstand on his first try. Though it was a trait of their kind to have poor vision and require glasses by puberty, William's eyesight was particularly bad. Thankfully it hadn't gotten any worse in the past decade, but where most reapers could see at least three feet in front of them clearly enough to function without spectacles, he sadly could not.
Perhaps that was a good thing, though. If he could see nothing of his companion save a blur of yellow-blond and fair skin, the temptation to stare was eliminated. The boy was attractive to look at…perhaps too attractive. The last thing William needed to be doing while on this assignment was entertaining inappropriate thoughts concerning his chosen partner.
It made him wonder if he'd subconsciously picked Ronald for reasons beyond practicality.
William was woken up by a phone call around noon. He groaned and reached for his glasses first, then the device after putting them on. When he saw the time on the clock, he groaned again. He'd overslept and apparently neglected to set the clock.
"Spears," he said simply.
"Good afternoon, Herr Spears," said the voice of the Berlin Dispatch supervisor on the other end. "I received a call from your hotel manager that you did not come to the door when room service attempted to bring your clean uniforms. Is there a problem?"
"Nein, no problem," assured William, grimacing at his own irresponsibility. "I'm afraid my partner and I slept in. I mustn't have heard them knocking."
"Ah, that is understandable," assured the other man. "Well, you will find your clothing outside your door. I hope you are rested enough to continue to your next assignment?"
"Yes, of course." William pulled the covers down and sat up, stretching a bit. "We shall pack up immediately and drop off our luggage at Headquarters when we retrieve our next assigned death list. I apologize for the delay."
"So long as you reach Warsaw by this afternoon," said the German supervisor. "There will be an uprising in the ghetto beginning there, and many lives on both sides will end as a result. I believe your other companions were sent there as well, so while your targets will differ, you may find yourselves working alongside them."
"I see," murmured William. He glanced over at Ronald. That might please him, to be reunited with his mentor under such strenuous circumstances…though he loathed the thought of the chaos he and Grell might get up to. "I shall wake and inform my companion immediately. Danke schön."
William hung up and climbed out of the bed. He bent over Ronald and he shook his shoulder. "Knox, wake up. We've overslept, and we need to be on our way to our next destination."
The sleeping blond gave a moan, curling up and hiding further under his blankets, seemingly unaware of William's words. It felt so good to be within slumber's embrace. His body warm and comfortable, his mind lost within his dreams…he didn't want to leave it.
William sighed and shook him again. "Ronald, get up. I'm afraid we've both indulged ourselves too much and we must be on our way. I don't have time for this nonsense."
"Grell, no. Nah gonna work 'gain…" Ron mumbled into the blankets covering his head, "Y'suck't tryin' ta sound li' Wi'sexy… I muss insist ya stahp… I wan'… no…won't say."
William raised a brow, unable to make out most of what he said and finding it a bit surreal. "I'm not Sutcliff, Mr. Knox. Please do me the favor of not comparing me to him again."
He yanked the covers down…and his other brow immediately migrated upward to join the first. Ronald had a rather obvious case of "morning wood". So obvious, in fact, that William could see the head of his endowments peeking out of the flaps of his fly. He stared for a moment, blinking, and then hastily pulled the covers back over the blond. Face heating, William took a moment to compose himself before nudging Ronald again, more roughly.
"Ronald Knox," he barked, "Get up…er…wake up this instant! We have somewhere to be."
His mind went to inappropriate, dirty places as he considered other, more gratifying ways he could wake the heavy-sleeping agent, and he berated himself for it. "Must I toss ice water on you?"
Ronald groaned, rolling onto his back, the blanket pitching a tent as he did so. He really didn't want to wake up yet, but an annoying, persistent voice was tearing him from the imaginary embrace of the person he had a crush on. The reality started to break through the fantasy.
Slowly, he cracked open his eyes and rubbed them, "Whaa?"
William averted his gaze, keeping his expression a cool mask despite his inward feelings. "We need to dress, check out and go to headquarters right away, Knox. We are due to depart for Warsaw soon. I overslept as well because I failed to set the alarm properly, and now we are running late."
Ron groaned louder, "Fuck… —wait. You're Spears!" Ron gasped, sitting up, "Not Grell—wait! Oh! Germany and the stupid war thing…Shit! I didn't say anything weird, did I?"
William nearly smirked. "You always say something 'weird' when woken from sleep, from my experience. This time it was mostly indecipherable babbling, however. The most I could get out of it was that you apparently mistook me for Grell."
Turning away from him, William went to the door to collect their uniforms from the hallway. He brought them back in and set them on his bed. "I'm going to dress in the bathroom. I advise you to do the same out here whilst I do so. We'll get some coffee at Headquarters before we leave and if there is time, we can get a bite to eat as well."
Trying not to think of the state of arousal Ronald was in, William gathered his uniform and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.
"…I wish he would have given me the bathroom… cold water would help…" Ron muttered, sliding out of bed and starting to dress himself, tucking himself away and trying to hide his aroused state in the fitted slacks.
William splashed some cold water on his face, gave his teeth a quick brush and changed into his uniform…sans hat. He carried the hat tucked beneath one arm and the pajama bottoms tucked under the other as he exited the bathroom. He thought better of just stepping right out into the main room when he realized Knox might still be changing.
"Ronald, are you decent?"
"Not if I'm a girl." Ron smirked. He was half dressed, shirt still open as he used the mirror on the wall over the table to fix his hair; his comb attempting to tame his wild blond and black locks of hair.
Figuring that was decent enough, William stepped out. He glanced at Ronald and made himself look away quickly, finding the sight of him with his shirt hanging open far too distracting—which was strange, considering he'd seen him in nothing but a pair of boxers…and more of him than expected, at that. He packed away his pajama pants and he began to check the room for anything he might have missed.
"You may be pleased to know that our next assignment takes us to the very place Sutcliff and Jeffries were deployed," he informed Ronald. He closed his suitcase and set it on the bed. "Their collection assignments will be the 'residents' of the Warsong ghetto, however, while ours will be the SS soldiers that are destined to die in the upcoming conflict. We are to concentrate on our own collections and move on when finished, leaving them to their task unless either of our teams run into opposition and must take up arms."
He actually dreaded this assignment. An uprising, the Berlin director had called it. That meant that the Jewish residents there must be preparing to resist Nazi attempts to gather them up and take them to concentration camps…or extermination camps. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and he made his bed. When he finished with that, he bent over to check under it and be sure none of his belongings were beneath it.
Ron walked into the bathroom to get help from water for his hair before brushing his teeth and walking back out, buttoning his shirt and tucking it in, "I'm not sure I want to see where Grell-senpai is working, to be honest." Ron muttered, "I think it'd be worse than a battle field or bombing sight. —where's my tie?"
William looked around for it, frowning. "Check the pockets of you uniform. They might have put it in there."
Ron walked over and checked the pockets of his jacket, and he shook his head, "Nope."
William sighed and went to the hotel phone to call laundry service, speaking in German. "Yes, this is William T. Spears in room B-12. You picked up our laundry for cleaning yesterday and I'm afraid my traveling companion is missing his tie." He described it to them and he asked if it was still there. "I see. Well, I expect you to deduct the cost from the bill, then. Good day."
He looked at Ronald and shook his head. "It seems they misplaced it." He went to his luggage and opened it up, searching through the carefully organized selection of clothing pieces until he found a tie that matched the one Ronald lost. "Here, take this one. I shall have to be more observant, the next time I hand over our laundry to someone else to wash. That, or we should do our own laundry from here on out."
"Do you think we could survive doing it ourselves? We were dead by the time we got back here to our hotel." Ronald pointed out, taking the tie and securing it around his neck before putting on his jacket and hat.
William almost said that of course they could…but he hadn't done his own laundry since he got promoted to executive supervisor. The SS uniforms weren't exactly cheap to come by, either. "Well then, we shall just have to be more careful about checking our clothing when it returns, to be certain nothing is missing. Are you almost ready to go, Knox?"
"I suppose so." Ron said, making sure he had his identification badges in his pocket and picking up his small bag of personal items, "Lets go." he placed his hand on Will's shoulder, frowning, "It's going to be another long day…isn't it?"
The brunet resisted a sigh and he put his uniform hat on. "I'm afraid so. Possibly quieter than our first assignment, but I must warn you this will be more difficult to remain detached from."
He'd heard stories about those targeted by the Nazi's being relocated, only to wind up in extermination camps. The massacre had begun. "Ronald, we must count on each other, and we must stay alert. Perhaps it will make our progress slower, but should it become too much to handle—for either of us—its best that we take a break to collect ourselves."
It was the closest he'd come to admitting how deeply this situation was affecting him. He could hardly believe he'd hinted as much to Ronald Knox; but he honestly couldn't think of anyone else in their department he would have rather revealed it to. He looked at him, his sculpted features cool and calm despite his inward trepidation.
"We are exemplary agents of London reaper Dispatch," he murmured, "and we shall do our jobs to our best abilities…even if it means completing our assignments more slowly than usual. Do you agree?"
"Yes, sir." Ronald nodded, "It's already been hard enough to keep emotions off the field. I don't think I would be able to work with Grell-senpai in the camps."
He shook his head and walked over, opening the door for William, "Better to show weakness by needing a break than break down completely."
William gave a nod and he walked through the door, pulling his wheeled suitcase behind him. "This is why I chose Sutcliff for that particular line of assignments. He has his faults—many of them—but he's comparably ruthless in the field and he's not the sort to allow emotion to trouble him overly…unless he get snubbed by a man he clings to."
The last was spoken with a hint of old annoyance. Heavens, how he wished Grell would find someone suitable to his needs that reciprocated his advances. It would make working with him so much easier.
They arrived at Berlin headquarters a short while later, and they put their luggage into transport before collecting their lists for the next location, along with coordinates to their arranged accommodations on the reaper side. When William saw the document concerning said accommodations, he pursed his lips.
"They have housed us in the same bed and breakfast as Sutcliff and Jeffries," he sighed.
"Shouldn't matter. We'll be dead by the end of our shift, and if not, it'd be nice to talk with them, see how they are doing and handling collecting in such…evil places." Ron shrugged, looking over the names on his collection list, "Wish this thing wasn't in German. I can't read the details at all—and I'm not just saying that because I don't want to do this."
William looked over Ronald's shoulder at the list. "Not to worry. I can guide us. You can be my eyes and ears while I work on reaping. You've proven to have quick reflexes."
"Yeah….sorry that I smacked our heads together helping you duck debris at the end of our day…that was an accident." Ron said, handing over the list, "Hopefully I won't do that again. But you can count on me, sir."
William folded and tucked the list into his pocket. "Better it be our heads smacking together than a sheet of flying metal decapitating us both. There is nothing to apologize for, Knox."
They made it to the next portal and William took a slow, cleansing breath. "Well then, shall we?"
"Ladies, first." Ron smirked, gesturing to the portal. He straitened when William shot him an un-amused look. "Fine, fine. Just trying to start the day out better than it'll end," he muttered, stepping through.
They arrived in Warsaw to the sight of a sprawling mess of a ghetto. There were so many people…dirty people, starving people…and SS troops patrolling the streets. William glanced at Ronald, before looking over the death list. "Our first target is scheduled to die within an hour," he informed him. "I think we should locate him and be ready, before we attempt to make contact with our London associates here."
"This place…feels like Hell itself…" the blond muttered, "Hell, it is Hell to all these people…" he added, looking out at the shaved, malnourished people. Their rags hardly covered their skeleton-like bodies. If death had been thick in the air at the bombing site, it was physically overwhelming here. Death's grip was clinging to everyone—it was only a matter of time.
He tore he gaze away, hating that he couldn't help them. That he was only there to collect the souls of the men who have done this to countless innocent souls.
"Yeah…let's go find him."
William glanced at him, compressing his lips. He heard whispers from the residents of the upcoming uprising as they passed along.
"We cannot simply let them do this…"
"…they want to kill us all…"
"Why, Mama…why do they hate us?"
William had to stop suddenly.
"Knox," he called. "One moment."
The child that wanted to know why they hated them would be amongst the casualties. He had to take a few deep breaths. He was too proud to break down, but as soon as his companion's form came into view, he mentally clung to it.
~Not alone…not alone…they did not and will not die alone. Someone is at their side. Gods…how can humans bear it?~
He sucked in a harsh breath, putting his gloved hands against his forehead. Starved of food, starved of any sort of dignity…and this was the legacy put forth to his mother and her people.
"Just one moment," he said to his companion, "I…just need a moment."
Ronald was glad he couldn't understand the words being said all around him. The desperation in their weak voices was enough to make him almost lose it. But William wasn't so lucky; being able to understand each and every German word uttered. And when the man called for him, Ronald was quick to rush to his side again, reaching out and touching his shoulder in comfort. "Are you alright, sir?"
William swallowed and nodded, pulling himself together. His companion's touch was surprisingly helpful to him…seemed to ground him. "Yes. I apologize for the lapse. It will begin soon, and I have a location on our first target."
He looked at him, schooling his face back into a calm mask. "Thank you, Knox."
"Any time." Ron nodded, knowing that this wasn't the time or place for his jokes.
They made their way through the ghetto, concealed from mortal sight except for those who were near death. They passed by an old woman dying in the arms of her husband and she reached out to them, speaking Romanian. William kept his gaze decisively fixed ahead, knowing that some other reaper would soon collect her. Sure enough, he spotted a pair of agents dressed in the Warsaw Dispatch division's uniforms, and they exchanged salutes with him as they passed, neither questioning nor pausing their trajectory. He saw a familiar flash of read as he and Ronald turned down a smaller street and he sighed. Sutcliff and Jeffries were in the town square, standing by one of the dilapidated buildings that might have once been a shop of some sort. Now it was filled with more than one family of squatters, like most of the buildings in the city.
As he and Ronald approached the first SS officer due to die in the impending conflict, Alexander noticed them and he nudged his companion, pointing. William gave them both a nod as Sutcliff turned to look at them. He could see beneath their illusionary disguise, and he got some small sense of amusement at the thought of how it must rankle the flamboyant redhead to be stuck wearing rags.
"Think they are doing okay here?" Ronald asked under his breath, nodding at the two reapers as he and William moved on to keep an eye on their first target, "This place is…heavy."
"Sutcliff I'm sure has managed just fine," answered William softly. His eyes studied Alexander. "His assigned partner, however, may not be enduring the situation with complete objectivity."
Indeed, Alexander looked a bit worse for the wear. He kept jumping at sounds and he had his custom scythe out—a tool in the form of a black and gold weed-eater, which like Ronald's lawnmower was an invention yet to be made in the mortal realm. William detected the sound of yelling, followed by a group of heavy footsteps coming their way. The SS soldiers looked around suspiciously, hands on their weapons.
"It's about to begin," murmured William. "Be ready for it, Ronald."
"Huh? Oh…yeah." Ronald tore his gaze away from their comrades and summoned his scythe to his hand, following William closely as things started to get louder. "This is going to be messy," he muttered, eyeing all the guns officers were pulling out.
A mass of ghetto residents came into view from around the corner of a building, armed with whatever they could find. Kitchen knives, poles, pipes, crude weapons fashioned from scrap metal, and even rocks and slingshots. One of them pointed at the SS patrol and shouted something in Polish. He fired at the man close to William with a gun he'd somehow managed to procure from somewhere, and the Dispatch supervisor sidestepped as the SS officer fell, clutching his spraying neck. The angry, desperate shouts of the mob filled the air, and the German troops banded together in the square and began firing at will.
William began to reap his first target, with Ronald guarding him in case of stray bullets and keeping an eye out for demonic activity. Across the way, Alexander started up his weed whacker to reap one of the fallen rebels, while Grell's chainsaw roared to life and took care of another one. William thought he saw one of the Warsaw dispatch officers off to the left collecting his own marks, and as the chaos grew, the reaper teams worked in conjunction with each other, instinctively giving one another room without the need for communication.
William heard the rattle of a machine gun going off just as Ronald finished collecting their second mark, and he saw one of the Polish Dispatch officers get hit by bullets intended for one of the rioters that he was standing too close to. He grabbed Ronald's arm and nodded toward the man meaningfully, not bothering trying to shout over all the noise. The Polack's partner was trying to drag him away from the chaos and take cover to see to his injuries, but he was having trouble doing so and dodging bullets at the same time.
"Should we cover them?" Ron shouted over all the noise, "So he can get his partner out of line of fire and further injury?" He knew they were supposed to stick to their own lists, but if the reaper got too injured, even by mortal weapons, he'd be out of commission to heal for a few days—which wasn't ideal in a war situation.
William nodded and started off, leading the way through embattled bodies and whizzing bullets. He couldn't speak Polish, but he gestured at the stricken reaper when they arrived and he made a lifting gesture, before pointing to himself and Ronald. The injured one's partner nodded and said something that might have been a "thank you", and the two British agents assisted him in lifting his companion and carrying him off into an unoccupied little storage building. They set him down carefully in the back corner, and his companion shrugged off the medical kit strapped to his back. William did the same with his and while the Warsaw operative began to cut his companion's uniform open to expose the damage, Will gave the wounded one a dose of morphine from a syrette.
"Ronald, help me hold him down while his companion works over him," he said, having to holler over the noise of screams and gunfire. He ignored the shaking, bloody hand that reached up to grip his sleeve. The officer was in shock, instinctively seeking comfort from the first reaper he saw.
Ronald nodded and abandoned his post he had made for himself as a look-out. It wasn't as if they were on a battle field, after all. Nothing was exploding or falling from the sky. They only had to worry about stray bullets; which weren't a problem yet in their location.
The blond crouched down next to the injured reaper, firmly holding him down to help keep him still as the reaper's partner began to dig out the bullet. "Hey, it'll be alright." He offered in a comforting voice between cries of pain.
The injured one's partner said something in Polish that sounded like a question, and Will shook his head grimly. "Apologies," he said in German—just in case the man happened to speak it, "I don't speak the language."
Evidently, neither of the Polish agents spoke German or English—or the injured one was too distracted to answer. As the taller one began to try to work the bullets out, Grell and Jeffries came into the building. William looked up at them. Knowing Grell didn't speak Polish, he inquired of the junior officer assisting him. "Mister Jeffries, can you interpret Polish?"
Alexander blinked and shrugged. "I speak a little, yeah. I'm not fluent, though."
"I need you to ask these officers if they can make it to the nearest portal to their headquarters, or if they will need an escort."
Alexander nodded and started to move away from the open doorway to attempt communication. Before he could take so much as two steps, there was a dull popping sound and he jerked, eyes going wide. He looked down at the blood blossoming on his ragged shirt where the bullet passed through, tearing a hole in flesh and cloth. Shock was evident on his features. He started to buckle and William swore, leaving off the Polish agent for the moment to catch him.
"Grell, shut that bloody door and help me with your partner," he snapped.
"'M okay," Alex tried to reassure, but he coughed blood. "It went all th' way through."
"Yet you still need time for your body to mend the hole it punched through your lung," admonished William, draping one of the younger reaper's arms around his shoulder while putting the other arm around his waist. He half-dragged him over to the crates near the injured Warsaw operative, and he eased him down. "Now sit and rest, while we finish assisting with this man. When you can speak coherently, I want you to convey my inquiry to these men, to the best of your abilities. Sutcliff, see to your partner while we assist with this agent."
"Damn it, can they stop shooting the death gods?!" Ronald cursed, "They should shoot the demons if they can't stick to each other!"
"Ronnie! Toss me your handkerchief." Grell asked, holding out his hand.
Ronald grunted and shifted to get the cloth from his back pocket, tossing it over so that Grell could use it to help apply pressure to Alex's wound.
"Didn't I tell you to not get shot today?" Grell scolded his partner, "I told you to be extra careful with the increased danger of today's death events!"
"Wasn't my fault," coughed Alex. "I was coming in when it hit me. S-sorry, boss Sutcliff."
"Any one of us could be hit by a stray bullet in this conflict," reminded William. "But maintaining a non-corporeal state while reaping is too taxing, and it would attract the attention of any demons in the area. Just concentrate on slowing the blood flow while it mends."
The injured Warsaw operative gagged in pain as his partner removed a second bullet, and he grabbed Ronald's sleeve just for something to hold on to. William glanced at him, then at Jeffries. "Be grateful yours passed all the way through instead of getting lodged. This operative is going to be weakened from blood loss by the time his companion digs out the last of the slugs. Jeffries, do you think you can translate my question to his partner now?"
"I…I'll try," he said, turning his head to look at the Polack. He cleared his throat and relayed William's question to him. At first the man gave him a confused look, and Alex tried again, changing a word or two. The Polish reaper looked down at his partner and he nodded slowly, speaking back to the British operative.
"Uh…he says he wants a prostitute," said Alex uncertainly. "Oh, wait…no. That was escort. Yeah, he says an escort would be helpful."
William nodded. "We'll wait for some of the conflict to die down around us and give both injured parties the chance to close their wounds, before helping these men to their home portal. We all go together. I can sense rising demonic activity in the area and we cannot risk separation at this time."
"Good thing they want an escort. I doubt there are any street walkers anywhere around here." Ron muttered his joke, yet didn't smile as he normally would. He sighed and took the shot reaper's hand, holding it firmly for comfort.
"Not the time for jokes, Ronnie." Grell said, applying more pressure to Alexander Jeffries' wound. "It'd be handy if you would grow the skin back together already…."
"I'm…working on it, sir," promised the auburn-haired reaper with a sickly grin. His bangs had fallen over his eyes and he reached up with a bloody hand to brush them back, only to see the blood and change his mind. He opted to blow said fringe out of his eyes instead. "I think it's closing up already."
The Warsaw agent dug the final bullet out of his companion and with William's help he put pressure on the wounds and waited for them to close up. Bullets couldn't kill them, but enough blood loss could put a reaper into a coma and thus make him vulnerable to demons and any other enemies with the means to kill them.
"Five minutes," said William. "That should be enough time for both of your injuries to close up enough to move you. We cannot remain here in this condition. There is too much demonic activity surrounding us."
"I wish I had brought my mower scythe… It'd clear a path through the demons like that!" Ronald stated, snapping his fingers.
"I have my chainsaw." Grell said, "I'll lead the way."
"Agreed," said William. "Jeffries, please try to convey that plan to our companions."
Alex nodded and clumsily translated for the two Polish officers. He had to try a couple of times to get the message across, but they seemed to get it and they both nodded in agreement.
"Your bleeding has stopped…but don't move yet. You don't want to risk it reopening." Grell sighed, examining his partner's wounds. "So…Willy, how's my little Trainee working out for you as a partner?"
William got up, brushed off his uniform and waked over to the door to open it a crack and check outside. "Ronald has done commendable work on the field since this began," he answered frankly. "His technique could use improvement, but under the circumstances I think he's conducted himself well."
He narrowed his eyes, noting that the activity in the streets outside had ceased. "The conflict has moved to other parts of the ghetto," he announced, looking back at his companions. "This is our chance to leave and escort these gentlemen to their portal. Sutcliff, I would recommend that once we see these Warsaw officers off, you and Jeffries retire to your reaper accommodations for the remainder of the day and pick up where you left off tomorrow. Our orders state that if either partner is significantly wounded, both should take time to recover before resuming assignments. We all need to be at our best in such a situation and it would be quite inconvenient to lose either of you. We are short-staffed enough as it is."
"What about you guys?" asked Jeffries.
William glanced at Ronald. "Considering neither of us is injured, we shall resume our assigned collections for this area after seeing you all safely delivered to your respective portals. There are still other Shinigami operating in this area and each division has been instructed to report any demon sightings to their headquarters, to be relayed to all other operatives in the area. Knox and I should be fine."
"Don't worry about us, Sutcliff-senpai!" Ronald grinned at the redhead, "I'll make sure Spears-senpai stays safe and gets back to London safely—and not missing any pieces! Especially the sexy bits." he winked.
"You make sure you watch out for yourself, too, Ronnie-boy. I'd hate to loose any part of my favorite little brother."
"Very touching," muttered William. "Gentlemen, are you ready?"
Alexander got to his feet with Grell's help, and he relayed the question to the Warsaw agents. The taller of the two helped his recovering partner to his feet and he nodded.
"Let's blow this popsicle stand," grunted Jeffries, more than ready to get out of this place and take a break from the slaughter.
"Very well, then." William took Grell's place supporting Alexander. "Sutcliff, take the lead. Ronald, watch our rear. We'll go straight to these gentlemen's portal first, and then see the two of you off to yours."
"Right away, darling~" Grell said, his scythe appearing in his hand with a flash as he yanked open the doors and ran out. The sound of the motor roaring to life soon joining the sounds of guns and cries. Not looking back to see if the others were following, Grell cut threw a group of lesser demon creatures. Imps that were more a nuisance than a danger compared to the higher ranking demons.
Ronald hurried after the others, keeping an eye out behind them in case some demon attacked from behind or another raid of bullets rained down upon them.
William kept his scythe ready, and Jeffries manifested his as well. The uninjured Warsaw operative also drew his scythe; which was a more practical form like Ronald's in the shape similar to a training sickle. William extended his scythe to pin a demon against the wall in passing that Grell had missed, skewering it and dropping it to the ground as they passed by. This was not good; the place was literally crawling with the denizens of Hell, and they would be fortunate not to encounter any greater demons as they trudged on.
They made it to the Warsaw portal and William hurried his Polish companions through, before casting a grim look at his fellow London officers.
"Keep moving," he ordered. "And for Heaven's sake, watch out for stray bullets."
"Like the one that almost hit your foot?" Grell asked, pointing to the hole in the dirt right next to William's toe.
"Misses are lucky. Lets go before we get pumped full of lead!" Ronald urged, not liking how open the area was around this particular portal.
"Good luck, friends," William said cordially to the two Polish reapers as they went through the portal. He tipped his hat at them as they vanished with thankful farewells, and he looked at his companions.
"Now we need to move south. Sutcliff, are you ready?"
"Duck!" Ron shouted, ducking under the path of a bullet aimed at his head.
"Good eye, Ronnie. Let's go." Grell took off in the lead again. "Incoming demons!" He warned a moment later as dark black creatures caught sight of them and took off towards their small group in obvious hope of getting a collection of fresh souls. Lower demons weren't the smartest things, and didn't know they wouldn't be able to get souls back out of a scythe.
William turned and impaled one of them before it could leap out at Grell. Though he was weakened from his healing injury, Alexander summoned his weed-whacker and got the gold colored blades spinning—just in time to fend off another one that made a try for him.
"Hah! Thought I'd be an easy mark?" he challenged with a grin as the spinning blade cut into the creature's torso.
"Don't get cocky," warned William. "We are fortunate these are lesser devils. It could easily have been something more challenging."
"Yes sir," agreed the junior officer contritely. The only thing scarier than a demon noble was William T. Spears when he was angry. Having been on the receiving end of that anger before, Jeffries could appreciate that and he wisely kept further taunts to himself.
"Uh….We have a problem back here!" Ronald shouted suddenly, his scythe just finished cutting through a small dog-like lesser demon that had jumped him.
But that hadn't been the problem. Beyond Ronald a very large demon that towered over the four reapers. Its round head split open wide by a drooling mouth far too large to look natural and lines with rows of spindled teeth. It's small beady eyes almost non-existent and could only be seen as they glowed red. It had three twisted horns angling out it's skull, it's skin was a black leathery texture covered in a mucus that smelled of decay and bone-like spikes lined down it's back, across it's shoulders, along it's long clawed arms, and covering the backs of it's curved legs. It's feet were more like large deadly needles that it balanced on, and it's long spiked tail hinted at being poisonous with the red and orange tip on a stinger similar to a scorpion's.
It wasn't a demon noble, but it wasn't a simple imp, low-level demon, either. And it's tiny eyes were locked on the four reapers as it charged them. A deafening roar drowned out all other sounds of battle and slaughter.
Alexander took one look behind him and he shouted in alarm and a bit of disgust at the sight of the creature bearing down on them. William fell back with Ronald, urging his other two companions on.
"Leave this one to us," he called out. "Focus on keeping the path ahead clear!"
"R-right," agreed Jeffries with a faintly anxious look. He forced his attention off the large demon and he moved closer to Grell.
William's scythe shot out at the demon, but it avoided the hit with surprising dexterity. Perturbed, he tried again and this time he managed to drive the blade on the end of it home into the demon's shoulder. It roared and grasped the pole of the scythe, yanking it and the reaper attached to the other end of it. "Now, Ronald," hollered William—just before getting slammed into the side of a building.
Assuming William would be bruised, but otherwise fine, Ronald charged the distracted hell-spawn, raising his scythe as he leapt up to attack. The creature was a little more than double his size, so his goal was to leap high enough to get at it's softer bits rather than the bony parts. He could cause it more pain that way and distract it further, hopefully for long enough to where William could shake the blow he'd been dealt and make another attack.
Successfully, he came down, his scythe cutting deep into the creature's stomach and expelling putrid black blood that smelled worse than the mucus. Getting covered in it, the blond gagged and didn't move quickly enough as a bony claw cracked into his side, swatting him away like a fly. He flew a few feet, rolling across the dirt ground and into a puddle near a building.
"Shit…uhg, guy needs more than a bath—Damn…"
William staggered aside just in time to avoid another hit when the demon returned its attention to him, holding onto his glasses to keep them from falling off. He speared it in the side—right next to the wound that Ronald had opened up—and he extended his scythe further to pin it against the wall of the building opposite to him.
"Knox, can you finish him?" he queried, glancing at his companion with veiled concern. He couldn't see any red blood mingling with the black, but the blond seemed to have taken a decent blow. The demon gnashed its razor sharp teeth and tried to grab his pole again. William shoved it harder against the wall, his lips compressed into a grim line.
Ronald groaned and stood up, finding to his surprise that he'd managed to keep a hold of his scythe. Though he staggered to the side, dizzy from all the rolling he'd done. Regardless, he shook his head to try and clear it before charging again.
The demon lashed out with it's deadly tail, and Ronald tripped over it in trying to avoid the stinger. Demonic poison would take a hell of a lot longer to recover from compared to a bunch of bullets.
Again, the demon's tail swung at him, and he had no choice but to defend, swinging his scythe and cutting the stinger off before he could roll over and push himself up.
Ron's head was buzzing from the scream the demon gave off, but he continued on his path, still slightly disoriented. He jumped again, trying for a killing blow as a spiked arm swung back at him. Realizing he'd not make it in time to his target, Ron threw his scythe seconds before he was hit. A bone-like spike impaling him through his rubs just below his heart where it became stuck.
His scythe twirled through the air and at the same time Ronald was hit, his scythe made a clean cut through the demon's neck, nearly decapitating it completely.
Ronald's scream of pain was the only one heard. As the demon staggered forward, it's claw aimed directly at William.
The supervisor managed to dodge enough so that it was only a glancing blow, but he didn't get away unscathed. His uniform got ripped and blood flowed from the scratch he couldn't completely avoid…but his main concern now was for Ronald.
"Sutcliff! Jeffries! Get back here!"
As the demon fell twitching, it dragged poor Ronald with it to the broken pavement. William lunged for the blond and pulled him free of the spike impaling him, clamping a hand over the resulting wound in his torso. "Knox," he murmured, sweat beading his forehead. It was a bad injury, and Ronald was already going pale. He could easily begin going into shock.
"What the hell happened?" demanded Alex, wide-eyed as he came running back and skidded to a stop.
"I think the answer to that question is rather obvious," grunted William. He lifted Ronald carefully in his arms as Grell rejoined them. "Knox, speak to us. Stay alert."
"Nnygh…" Ronald's head lulled against William's arm, "Did…I get 'im?" he coughed, blood peppering his lips.
"I'll kill it!" Grell growled, revving up his scythe to take to the twitching demon, "No one hurts my Ronnie!"
Alexander joined him, starting up his scythe to help him dispatch the creature for good. William kept a wary eye out as he held his injured companion securely. "You did well, Ronald," he assured him. "Just try to stay focused. We will go through the portal with our companions get you some medical attention on the other side."
"It sure got me…" he groaned, starting to shift but regretting it right away as more pain shot through his body. "Sor…ry….Senpai…"
Behind them the demon's records shot into the air, playing out a long, but uneventful life. All the thing ever did was grow and eat. When it was done, the creature's body turned to ash and Grell picked up Ronald's scythe, not wanting it to be left behind where a demon could get a hold of it.
"It's gone—time to move, Will."
William nodded and started off immediately, doing his best not to jar the young reaper in his arms. Jeffries flanked them while Grell took the lead again, both of them keeping an eye out for any further threats. They eventually made it to the open portal, and Will stepped through first with Ronald. There were portal guards waiting on the other side and William quickly gave them his name and rank, unable to show his badge due to having his arms full of his injured partner. He had to direct them to take it out of his jacket pocket themselves for confirmation, and they had to do the same with Ronald.
"Hospital?" he asked, hoping they could understand English or German. Fortunately, they could. After examining Grell and Alex's identification badges, they pointed out the way for them. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said with some relief.
Trusting his companions to keep up with him, he wasted no time. Fortunately, the hospital was in walking distance, so there was no need to hail a cab. By the time he made it up the steps and through the door, he was a bit winded—but he stubbornly refused to let go of Ronald until they brought out a stretcher for him.
"It's going to be all right," he assured the blond as the medical team eased him out of his arms and onto the stretcher. His own blood from the scratch he'd all but forgotten was staining Ron's clothes along with the rest. "Just cooperate with them, Knox. We won't be far."
"You ought to let them check you out too, sir," suggested Alex with a nod at William's arm. "That could go septic fast."
Will glanced down at his arm, just now feeling the pain of the injury. "Yes, that can be seen to after they've bright Ronald to an examination room. His injuries take priority over mine in severity."
"Hate…Hospitals…" Ronald moaned as he was wheeled away quickly. But he was so weak that he couldn't protest, only lay there attempting not to pass out from pain—which turned out to be pointless as they applied a mask to his nose and mouth to make him relax before they started working. At least the pain was gone.
Grell sighed, "As if Jeffries's getting shot and that other guy getting shot wasn't enough… Now Ronnie's got a huge hole in his middle…what's it from? Not a stinger I hope?"
William watched them work over his subordinate from outside the room they'd brought him into, and he shook his head. "No. It was a spike on the foul creature's arm. His body should heal well enough without scarring, but he'll lose too much blood and risk infection if it isn't properly treated and bound."
He sighed, wondering why his heart was beating so fast. He hadn't expected the surge of alarm that went through him when he saw Ronald take that blow. He'd actually believed they might get through this mission unscathed. How wrong he'd been about that.
"Jeffries, how is your injury?" he asked without taking his eyes off Ronald. "Do you believe it needs medical attention?"
The auburn-haired reaper tugged his shirt up a little to look. The bullet hole had already closed and he bore only a faint mark from the experience. "I'm okay, sir. I could just use some rest before going on another reaping assignment, I think."
William nodded. "Good. You and Sutcliff should retire to your accommodations for the rest of the day, then. I shall contact you with an update on Knox's condition when they've finished seeing to him."
What a horrid start to their Warsaw assignments.
Grell looked a little hesitant to leave; he was so used to working with Ronald rather than anyone else. And while Ronald wasn't in the habit of getting seriously injured on the field, they had always stayed by each other's side when either of them got hurt But Ronnie was William's partner currently…
The redhead sighed, "Then you stay with him—and send me word when he's been cleared!"
-To be continued