"Well then, shall we discuss what you are both doing here, invading my privacy?" William sat down across from Grell and the Undertaker, and he couldn't help but notice the way his former mentor seemed to pay so much attention to Sutcliff. He frowned, narrowing his eyes at the man. Did he have...a crush? On Grell, of all people?

Grell huffed, making a show of ignoring the silver reaper who kept trying to gain his attention. It was a flattering attempt, but Grell Sutcliff wasn't one to easily forgive and forget once he grew bitter over something. And Undertaker had done plenty to earn his cold shoulder.

With his nose in the air and his face turned away from the grinning minx, the redhead flipped his long hair over his shoulder, successfully having the long red strands smack the silver reaper in the face just as Ronald entered, still buttoning his pants, though he had stayed topless.

Grell waited for the blond to take his seat next to William before starting, "I think you have some talking to do first, Will!" he pointed at the two lovers.

"Actually I don't feel I need to explain anything," announced Will pleasantly. "The two of you, however, have a bit of explaining to do. What on earth made either of you think it was acceptable to appear in my bedroom?"

"Ah, about that..." Undertaker stroked his pale chin with his long black nails. "Sorry for the timing, chap. I came to ask why in bloody hells you'd give information concerning my personal habits to Dispatch."

The mortician glanced at the crimson reaper beside him and he smiled. "Not that I mind being tracked down by certain ladies, understand."

"I'm not on the case! I'm still stationed in Germany and happen to be spending one of my precious two days off hunting down Will!" Grell turned on William again. "Why on earth would you leave and Take Ronnie home, but leave Alex and I stuck in those camps?! And Ronnie, how did you get that?!" he nodded back to the bedroom, "I've been trying to get Will into bed for decades!"

"Yeah, yeah, Will and every other hot guy you run into. I know. I've been your junior for long enough to know that." Ron signed, leaning back against the armrest as he turned side-ways in the seat, "You may as well find out now... You will eventually. Will and I were trying to have first sex after waiting through this whole bloody war to do so, when you two interrupted!"

Grell blinked, "You have been waiting to have sex? Why? Just do it like you do with everyone else."

"Perhaps because it was more than just sex to the both of us," William pointed out coolly. He didn't bother explaining to Grell that the experiences of war had brought them closer together. Considering how much disdain the redhead originally had for the young reaper he'd been partnered with and his apparent change of heart, he imagined he already had an understanding of it. "And I did not 'abandon' the two of you. We were assigned to different missions and I could hardly hover over the two of you and babysit you."

He tried not to think of Grell having relations with Ronald. He had no desire to picture that. He turned to the Undertaker. "Now then, what was that kick about? Bad enough that you broke into my apartment, but that was uncalled for."

"The kick was for sending agents to my old shop to wait for me," informed the mortician. "There I was, about to collect a few things I'd left behind and lo and behold, the place was infested with Dispatch. I think one intrusion deserves another, don't you?"

Will frowned. "I had nothing to do with that. It was more than likely that one of the board members put out the order to have your shop monitored, in case you happened to return. I have no control over what my superiors do, but your decision to come here and confront me about it has now put me in a very difficult position. You do realize I am obligated to report your presence here, don't you? I would rather not have a physical confrontation sir, but I do have my duty."

"Duty, schmooty." The Undertaker waved a hand dismissively. "If your morals were so fine, you'd not have gone back on our deal."

"He didn't." Ronald said, "I was the one that sent the text to summon back-up. You can even check my phone records for it," Ron said truthfully, though he left out that the action had been prompted. "I never actually promised you I wouldn't report you. I just delayed it until we had the thing we were tracking down because Will said we could use your help. Sorry-nothing personal this time, I swear. Besides, you got away just fine."

Undertaker looked at William, and his eyes twinkled slyly. He started to open his mouth to remark on how fortuitous it was that his old apprentice happened to break the lich's soul vial just in time to open up an opportunity for him to escape. A glance at Grell changed his mind. He felt confident that Knox wouldn't rat Will out to their superiors if he suggested he'd done it on purpose to sabotage the attempted capture. Sutcliff, however, he wasn't so sure about.

"Oh, speaking of you," he said to the crimson reaper, "I'm still a bit confused about the 'lady' debate." He looked Grell over suspiciously, still having a hard time believing it despite the flatness of the redhead's chest.

"You mentioned that before." Grell crossed his arms, finally looking at Undertaker, "And I most certainly am a lady, something William has never acknowledged. It's nothing new. But Ronnie-dear treats me as such, half the time. At least he's a little more open about it!" He stood up and walked over, bending over to look at Ronald in the eye, then William, then back to Ronald. "Now I know you better than you think. I know you never sleep with someone you have real feelings for, and I know you have secretly had your eye on William...so the real question is..." he turned to William, "Do you have real feelings for Ronnie?"

"Really, you just answered your own question, Grell," Ron sighed.

"I want to hear him say it himself!" Grell insisted.

Will clenched his jaw. By rights, he had no obligation to give into Grell's demands...but Ronald was looking at him too, and he didn't want their evening spoiled any further than it already had been. "Yes," he said, eyes flashing with annoyance. "I have feelings for Ronald. You know that I would not be dating him exclusively if it were otherwise."

"Well, there you go," said the Undertaker with a nod of satisfaction. "Willy and Ronnie sitting in a tree, and all that. No need to interrogate them over it."

The mortician gave Sutcliff another look-over. "Pity, but now that we've cleared up who's at fault for what, I should be on my way. I wouldn't want Willy t' feel put on the spot. Go right ahead and phone Dispatch, lad. I can let myself out."

William summoned his death scythe and he shook his head, finished with suffering uncertainty and mixed feelings. "I am afraid I cannot let you do that, sir. You knew our agreement was a one-time thing, and by coming here you've forced my hand. You are outnumbered and even if you manage to vanquish all three of us, you aren't likely to do so before more agents arrive to secure you."

Undertaker drew his own scythe and he whistled a warning and shook his head when he noticed Grell making a move for his. Holding the scythe out threateningly at the redhead, he glanced Will's way again. "There's a wee problem with that, love. You've got to get out your phone t' do that before I spill the lady's records...and then I'll move on to your li'l blond here. You're best off sticking to my plan and waiting 'till I'm gone before you call the authorities. I'd rather not damage any of you. I rather like you all."

"The authorities have already been notified," William informed him calmly. "I put in the notification and I hit 'send' while we were discussing your intrusion earlier. Did you really think I would not do my duty to my department, Undertaker?"

The mortician frowned at him. "I think you're bluffing."

"Then commence with the fight and discover the truth for yourself," suggested Will...and then he spun his scythe and lunged for the mortician.

Undertaker jumped back, forced to take his scythe off Grell to block the attack. "Oh Willy...I'm disappointed," he sighed. He twisted and he retaliated, putting William back on the defensive. His grin never faded even as portals began to form in the younger reaper's parlor, proving William had not bluffed at all.

William had made a miscalculation, though. He'd forgotten how quickly the Undertaker could conjure his own dark portals. The mortician refreshed his memory of that fact while he had enough range between them to do so, and Will shouted a warning as the twisting, dark portal took form and some of his fellow Dispatch officers stepped into the room.

"Don't touch it," shouted William, recalling all too clearly what had happened to him the last time he'd tried to follow his old mentor through one of them. The anomaly was between him and the Undertaker, so he couldn't get to the man without skirting around it.

Chuckling, the Undertaker started to take the opportunity to jump through his portal and vanish, but a glance at Grell put a different idea in his head. Impulsive as usual, he decided to clear up his confusion in his own way. In a flash, he was at Grell's side and he cupped the redhead between the legs swiftly.

"Well, what do you know?" He jumped away hastily before Grell could react and he winked at him before leaping through his portal.

"Hey!" Grell snapped, even as the Undertaker disappeared, "Threaten me, fine, but no gentleman touches a lady without her consent! I'm going to reap you next time I see you!"

"He's gone, Grell." Ronald said, having jumped to his feet, his own scythe in hand; the one he'd been using in Germany for so long. "And if you go after him you'll get put in the hospital. Trust William's hand on that. He touched one."

Eric was too shocked by what he'd just seen to even consider attempting to go through that portal. "Did...did he jus' grope Sutcliff?"

"Fortunately, I could not see around the portal to confirm your question," sighed William. He compressed his lips in irritation, having more important things to worry about than whether his old mentor inappropriately touched his associate or not. He glared at the shifting, crackling portal and he grabbed the arm of one of his fellow agents when the man started to move toward it, having arrived too late to hear his warning.

"I would not, Agent Kennedy," he explained when the strawberry blond reaper looked at him quizzically. "The last time I came into contact with one of the Undertaker's portals, it flayed the skin from my hand up to my elbow. Had I gone through it, I would have come through the other side in pieces, no doubt."

"What shall we do, sir?" questioned another man.

William shook his head and dragged his fingers through his mussed, dark hair. "All that we can do is report that the fugitive escaped again. I fear our only real chance of capturing that man is through subterfuge."

"I'm going to cut that hand from his dainty little wrists!" Grell was ranting, no longer paying attention to anything else.

"Senpai! Calm down." Ronald said, grabbing Grell's shoulders to stop the pacing he'd started. "You can deal with the old degenerate later."

Grell huffed, crossing his arms again and tapping his foot before deciding he still wanted something.

"I still want to hear you say it yourself, Will." He didn't care if others were in the room. he wanted to hear William say he loved Ronald, and he wasn't going to give in until he heard those words leave the man's lips.

"Grell Sutcliff, now is not the time for your blasted dramatics," snapped William impatiently. "I have had my bloody privacy invaded quite enough today, thank you! Now go...get out of my apartment and leave us in peace."

Eric grimaced, and he wondered if Sutcliff had any sense of self-preservation at all. He had no idea what it was he was trying to pressure Will into saying, having arrived after the conversation, but he knew that look in their boss's eyes. William wasn't likely to say anything in mixed company that he wasn't damned good and ready to say. "Better listen tae him, Grell."

"Nah-ah!" Grell shook his head and put his foot down, his heel clicking loud against the wood floors, "I'm not leaving until I know for sure that my cute little Junior isn't going to get hurt!"

At the very end of his patience, William stepped around the Undertaker's diminishing portal and he grabbed Grell by his striped bowtie, all but dragging him into the hallway with him. He shoved him against the wall and he glared into his eyes.

"Perhaps you can ask him yourself later. I shan't be put on the spot yet again with your foolishness. Leave now or I will forcibly expel you."

"You'll make Ronnie Jealous by getting rough with me, darling, and I'm putting you on the spot because you won't answer yes or no. Do you love him back?" Grell pressed his luck again, growing annoyed that such a simple thing was being fought. It was starting to make him think that Ronald was being used...and as much as he adored William, the thought angered him.

"I'm not asking so I can be mad at you! I'm asking so I don't have to be mad at you! Ronnie's like a kid brother to me, okay? And believe it or not, I got over you a long time ago. So spill before I jump to conclusions and gut you. Answer me! Do you love Ronnie?!"

William was sorely tempted to punch Grell at that point. He shoved him against the wall again and his lip curled with anger, and he held the crimson reaper against the wall with one hand while forming a portal with the other. "I've had quite enough of this. I have endured more than my share of harassment throughout all of this and you have the gall to come into my home uninvited and make demands of me? My feelings and my relationship are private. Enough."

William grabbed Grell by the collar of his jacket and he started bodily dragging him to the portal he'd created.

"Don't be a stubborn ass!" Grell growled, kicking his foot out to trip William up and send them to the floor. He took the opportunity to roll them and straddle William, pinning him down. "I'm not asking you how it happened or why! I'm worried! Ronnie can get really badly hurt by this, and you aren't exactly a fluffy teddy bear like Eric! Put your damnable pride aside for once and just answer yes or no; for Ronnie's sake!"

William surprised himself by growling like an animal. "This is not for Ronald's sake, but for your own love of gossip!" He then did a move that he never would have imagined himself doing before: he head-butted Grell and then he flipped him over onto his back. Beyond incensed, William summoned his scythe again and all he could think of was how many times this red lunatic had been a thorn in his side...and then the world around him seemed to change, and rather than Grell, he saw an SS officer beneath him, hands stained with the blood of the innocents he'd just slaughtered like animals in the gas chambers.

"Will! Stop!"

William didn't recognize Eric's voice. He started to drive the point of his scythe into Grell's throat, only to be tackled by a heavy body. His breath exploded from his lungs and his scythe went spinning across the floor. He snarled, caught up in the delusion and seeing only an enemy attempting to overcome him.

"Jaysus," cried Eric as he struggled to keep his infuriated boss pinned. The only thing he had going for him right now was his greater size. William was of a height with him and he certainly was no weakling. "Grell, get tha fook outta here! Ya set him off! Someone go get a reaper medic an' bring 'em back here!"

Grell blinked, watching as Eric held down their boss. "...He...just tried to kill me. Actually tried to kill me," he said, his anger that his simple and sincere question of concern had been ignored fading into shock.

William had threatened him before, he'd smacked him around and yelled...but he'd never grown serious about killing him.

The redhead stood there dumbly as another agent ran past him to follow Eric's orders.

Ronald was wide-eyed and in shocked throughout the whole thing. Sure, Grell would take the gossip and run with it, but Ron also had no doubt that his senior had only wanted confirmation from William. There was no reason for all that just happened. It left Ronald tongue-tied.

Shaking himself from his stupor, he finally moved forward, touching Grell's shoulder, "Grell, please go. We'll talk later." He stated it in a low tone that didn't hide his shock. When the redhead nodded and turned to leave, Ron then approached William and Eric, slowly.

"Will..?" he knelt down at Will's head, looking down at him and cupping his ears. maybe it was the voices driving him to do this, though he knew covering his ears wouldn't help, "Will, look at me."

That voice, William recognized. In a fog of confusion, he looked up at Ronald and slowly, the realization of what he'd nearly done came to him. With that realization came a sort of horror, followed by an icy calm. "Ronald," he murmured.

Seeing the change in him and feeling his lessened resistance, Eric eased up on his hold of him. "Will? Are ya back?" Like most other agents, he'd been trained to deal with trauma issues that might occur due to accidental contact with records or war experiences. He could see William coming back to himself, and he sighed in relief.

William sat up with Eric's help, and he looked around at the audience. He felt a sincere influx of mortification for his actions and he looked at Eric uncertainly. "Sutcliff. Where is he?"

"He left," Eric assured him. "It's a'right, boss."

William stared up at him, and then his eyes flicked to Ronald. How could a romantic night have possibly gone so wrong? He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "Slingby."

"Aye?" Eric looked at him warily, ready to restrain him again if necessary.

"I think perhaps you'd be best off taking me into custody now."

"Wh-what?" Ronald choked out, "But, Will-!"

But...what? Even he couldn't deny that Will had just had a major breakdown, and he'd nearly killed someone during it. There was no way he could get away without being taken in and have doctors assess his mental state. But that didn't make the reality any easier for the smitten young blond. He didn't even realize that he'd started tearing up as he grabbed William's hand.

"Give us a moment," Will instructed softly to Eric. "Please."

Eric sighed and he nodded, standing up and patting Ronald gently on the back before retreating into the other room. Once they were alone, William opened his eyes and he looked at Ronald. "I think that we both knew this might come, Ronald. I had hopes to stave it off, but my actions tonight have proven that I am no longer fit to maintain my position."

Will bowed his head and he sighed. "I'm terribly sorry. I would like to say that I can cope, but you saw that. For the good of the organization, I think it's best that I seek treatment. If I go on like this, it could come to you being in my position with the Undertaker. I'd never wish that upon you."

Ronald shook his head. "But I'm not you, you aren't him, and our relationship isn't the same as what you had with him-or have. I'm here for you, Will," Ron pleaded, "We can get through this just as we got through every other shitty thing that has happened to us..."

"Ronald, listen to me." William reached out to comb aside the younger reaper's bangs in an unusually affectionate gesture. "I am a danger to myself and those around me. I see that now. For whatever reason, you've made it through this without losing yourself and for that, I'm grateful. I, however...after tonight, I cannot trust myself. Sutcliff has always pushed my buttons, but this time...this time I truly wanted to end him. I'm no longer fit to lead our department."

He sighed and he lowered his eyes. "If I could spare you or our associates of this burden I would, but I am afraid I must take an unscheduled vacation from it and seek evaluation. It really is for the best."

William raised his eyes and he gazed into Ronald's. Seeing a tear spill over, he wiped it away with his thumb. "I hope that you'll visit me whenever you can, Ronald. In the meantime, I shall say to you what Grell so vehemently demanded I confirm to him. I do love you."

Ron leaned forward, pulling William into a hug and hiding his face in his shoulder. "I wanted to save you from having to... I wanted us to go out on lots of dates and forget about the mortal side of our being in Germany. Undertaker—he said I'm the best thing for you..."

William smirked and he stroked Ronald's hair. "He was correct about that. I feel if it weren't for you, I'd have gone much deeper into this malady than I already have. I...would like for it to be so simple, Ronald. I had hoped it could be, but tonight has shown me the beast I could become if I continue the way I am. Perhaps with time..."

He sighed and frowned, hating himself inside. He'd always thought of himself as so secure...so stoic. Perhaps it was all just a fool's dream.

Ronald tightened his hold on William, "I still don't like this... We only just got back home and... and we can't even have one full date without something happening."

"I do apologize for that." William lowered his head over Ronald's and he rubbed his back. "This wasn't what I desired for us at all. Selfish though it may be of me, however, I ask that you wait for me." He withdrew one hand from Ronald's back and he slipped it beneath the blond's chin, urging him to tilt his head to meet his eyes. "Wait for me, Ronald. I'd never ask this of anyone else."

Ronald nodded and let out a sigh, one hand sliding up to touch Will's cheek, "I'll visit you if they let me...I know they don't for some cases...and that's what's so terrifying about you doing this...I don't care if you are still at work or not, I just want to see you and spend time with you. It'll be awfully lonely..."

But he'd waited this long already. The only difference being he didn't have the heart for casual dates anymore. He only wanted dates with William.

"I am sure arrangements can be made," William tried to reassure him. "After all, I did not simply randomly snap. It was triggered by someone's aggressive needling and I have never attacked you. They will likely monitor me for a week and once they are satisfied that I would pose no danger to those I will put on my visitor list, they will begin allowing it."

William himself had some small experience with this already—not as a patient, but as an office manager deciding which released patients were acceptable candidates to return to work in his division. Sometimes reaper agents just needed counseling for a while after experiencing trauma in the field. He dearly hoped he was one of them, and that one day he could resume his duties and return to a normal lifestyle. Well, normal for him. Fortunately he had enough in savings to pay the bills for a year or more, so he shouldn't have to worry about losing his apartment or his car.

That line of thought reminded him that while he was in the custody of the institution, he would need to declare an executer and grant them access to his finances and accounts. He could think of no other reaper he would dare trust than Ronald, and he smirked at that thought. A year ago he wouldn't have trusted Ronald to feed his dog—if he had one. Now he was the only person he felt he could trust implicitly.

"Ronald, I am going to request something of you that may be rather heavy on responsibility, but I would not ask it of you if I had another trustworthy option." He sighed and lowered his gaze in thought. "While I am in there, my bills will still require paying. Ordinarily this would fall upon family members or legal professionals, but I have no family save my father now, and you know we are estranged. I've also seen how crooked professional executers can be, so I ask you to accept the position. I shall arrange for you to have access to my financial accounts, and your name will be put on my lease agreement, car insurance and utilities. I will need you to pay my bills for me and drive my car once in a while to keep it running well. You can stay here in my apartment as often as you wish, but if not, I would appreciate it if you would clean out the refrigerator so that nothing gets spoiled. Take everything in it home with you if you must."

William paused and he looked into Ronald's devastated eyes, completely empathizing with the pain he saw in them. He caressed Ronald's face, wishing there were some other way. "Will you do this for me, Ronald?"

Ronald took a deep breath and tried to give him an encouraging smile. "You can count on me." He almost joked that even he wouldn't trust himself with something like that, but he just wasn't feeling it at the moment. He swallowed and hugged William again. "I'll likely stay here...I have my own bills memorized for when to pay them...I'd need the mail reminder for yours. Plus you actually have a bed..."

~Which smells like you.~

"But you'll owe me for it...You have to promise me you'll listen to them shrinks and do everything you can to get better and return home." He paused. "Even if they don't let me visit, I'll write you. I'm really lame at writing letters, but..."

"I would like that," William assured him, "no matter how 'lame' you think your letters are."

Eric poked his head in. "Boss...they're on their way. Wha' can we do tae help?"

William sighed and he looked around. "I imagine I won't need much in the way of clothing, considering I shall have to wear the clothing issued to me that will identify me as a patient. I should like to bring some books and whatever toiletries are permitted, but I can pack those on my own easily enough. Thank you, officer Slingby."

A short while later, William was escorted into the mental facility in reaper London. They allowed Ronald and Eric to accompany him until he was taken through the secured door leading into the resident area, and Eric rubbed Ronald's shoulder comfortingly as they watched him go.

"He's strong," Eric assured his companion. "This won't get him down fer long, Ronnie. Are ya going tae be a'right? I called Alan an' he's comin' o'er tae my place tae watch a film wi' me. Yer welcome tae join us, if ya dun' want tae be alone."

Gods knew they'd have a ton of paperwork to go through tomorrow. William had insisted on informing the board himself of his decision to commit himself for treatment, but Eric and Alan would have to take care of all the paperwork. Will already had a lawyer and he'd contacted him as well to draw up the paperwork naming Ronald as his executer, so at least that part would be taken care of.

Ron nodded, "Sorry... this just-sucks so bad." The usually lively blond was strangely pensive and down. "The whole war was rough on him from the start...I could see this coming, even at the beginning when he started becoming distracted and making rookie mistakes...but I never thought it'd get to this point." He leaned against the door blocking him from William, looking through the thin window that showed him only an empty white hall as William and his escorts had turned the corner.

"I can only imagine tha things ya both saw o'er there," sighed Eric. "Funny, I'd have thought Will would be tha last one tae crack under fire, but then he's wound up sae tight, I s'pose all tha' stoicism had tae break sooner or later."

He put a friendly arm around Ron's shoulders and he nodded toward the exit. "Let's get outta here. This place is depressing."

He winced as he said it, recalling that William was going to be stuck in this "depressing" place for who knew how long. "I meant it's jus' gonna drag ya down hanging around here. We'll pick something funny out tae watch on the tube t'night...no war movies or dramas."

Again, the younger blond nodded and allowed Eric to lead him away and out of the building. "Sorry for crashing your date with Alan."

Eric shrugged. "It wasnae a formal date...jus' a quiet night at home tae try an' relax a little before all tha work piles up tomorrow. Alan won't mind ya comin', I'm sure. He knows you're head o'er heels fer William an' I'm head o'er heels fer him. No' Will...I mean Alan. I'll jus' call an' let him know."

Perhaps under different circumstances, it might have been awkward, but Alan had expressed sympathy over the phone. Still, he thought it prudent to clear it with him first. He dug out his phone and rang his partner as he and Ronald walked through the parking lot to their vehicles.

"Al, it's me. We're jus' leaving tha institution now after dropping Will off. Thought I should let ya know we'll be havin' company t'night, if tha's a'right wi' ya."

"Yes, of course," Alan's voice answered. "How's he holding up?" He couldn't imagine what it was like for Ronald to see his boyfriend taken into the institution. If it had been Eric instead of William...he honestly didn't know what'd he do, but he was sure that being left alone would not be the best thing for him. Eric was the boy's best friend, and he needed his friends.

Eric glanced sidelong at Ronald. "A little numb, I think. Kind o' shocked. Otherwise he seems a'right. If ya get tae mah apartment before we do, would ya do me a favor an' get tha scotch out o' tha liquor cabinet an' set out some glasses? I've go' a feeling this could be a night fer some drinks."

Alan sighed, "Alright, but not too much, for either of you. Ronald doesn't need to drink himself sick tonight, he just needs enough to take the edge off. And I don't want to be the bad guy by stopping you guys from drinking too much."

"I'll be sure and limit it," promised Eric. "There's less than half of it left in tha' bottle so once tha's gone, we won't open ano'er or get any beer. See yeh in a little while, sweetheart."

Eric hung up and he stopped at his car, unlocking it. Ronald had come in William's classy black sedan. "Did ya want tae drop off Will's car at his place an' ride wi' me tae mine, or would yeh rather jus' follow?"

"I don't want to drive Will's car more than I have to." Ronald said, opening the door. It was an expensive car, way out of his price range, and he didn't want anything to happen to it. But it was better than his bike which he had taken to William's place. They had allowed Ron to drive Will to the institute and he wouldn't have been able to do it on the bike.

"I'll probably crash on your couch, anyway."

"Right. Meet yeh at Will's place, then. Might want tae pack a change o' clothes if yer staying o'ernight." Eric got into his car and he started it up.

The next evening, the Undertaker followed in the shadows as the object of his interest walked the streets of mortal London. Apparently Sutcliff was back from Germany for more than a day...perhaps permanently like Will and Ronald—or at least until things heated up. The mortician sighed, lightly tapping the skull-topped cane he kept as a prop for his disguise on the ground. He was dressed in a pinstripe suit he'd stolen from some rich gent's closet and he wore a dandy top-hat on his head, in lieu of his usual one with the liripipe. His hair was brushed back and tied into a long ponytail and he wore a pair of tinted glasses over his eyes.

"And where are you off to now, Miss Sutcliff?" Undertaker grinned, and he began to follow behind Grell. He kept nearly a full block's distance between them. While his disguise was fairly solid and he'd concealed his facial scar with makeup, Grell would be able to sense his reaper aura if he got too close and he'd probably figure out who he was before long.

The Undertaker was curious, though. After escaping Will's apartment, he'd arranged for some of his raven friends to keep an eye on the place, and William had been seen neither coming nor going from his residency since then. The mortician wasn't quite worried—not yet. Willy doubtlessly had time off, and after what the Undertaker had interrupted the other night, he supposed William would probably be spending a lot of his vacation snogging his blond companion.

Realizing he was getting too far behind Grell, the Undertaker sped up the pace. Fortunately, Grell's look was so distinctive that the mortician could tell him apart from other pedestrians, even without proper Shinigami eyewear. He hurried up even more when Grell turned a corner up ahead. If anyone had asked him why he was following the Dispatch agent instead of trying to sneak into Will's place to check on him, he wouldn't have been able to answer. All he knew was that he didn't want to lose sight of him.

The street that Grell turned down was a busy one, full of merchants selling their wares from little street carts and wagons. It was a popular area for Sunday afternoon shopping, as anyone could find nearly anything. Even local shops would send a cart of goods for the day.

Grell hadn't been as often as he'd have liked, but he did enjoy spending money there. Plus he had a good chunk of money burning a hole in his pocket, as he hadn't had any time to enjoy splurging on himself for a while, and that night he'd have to go back to Germany to return to the grind with his current partner.

He didn't know what Alex was doing in his last day off, and frankly, he didn't care. Right now the only thing he wanted to care about were those red lace boots on the cart next to the book cart!

Grell hurried over and snatched them up, soon bartering the price and paying for them.

The redhead continued on from cart to cart, making purchases of a few more items he just had to have before he started getting the distinct feeling that someone was...watching him...following him. What a bother. But dealt with easily enough.

Grell pretended to do a bit more 'window shopping' before he spotted a long, thin, secluded alley. He ducked into it, disappearing deep into the shadows where he watched and waited.

A figure soon appeared, confirming Grell's suspicions. It'd be easy to get away, but he wanted to know why the man was following him. However, as he grew closer, Grell could feel it; death's aura. It wasn't human, it was a reaper. Snarling, Grell moved to summon his scythe, backing up further.

Light caught a long strand of silver as the man picked up his pace, and Grell's eyes widened. It couldn't be, could it? No, it was, and it was time for revenge.

Abandoning the idea of his scythe, Grell looked around, spotting a sturdy axe wedged in wood further up the way. It was obvious it was used for chopping wood to heat a home or business, but it gave him a satisfying idea.

Setting down his shopping, he silently rushed over and grabbed the worn wooden handle, yanking it free.

Undertaker was almost running now, fearing he'd lost Sutcliff. He was so distracted that he didn't sense the redhead until he was almost right on top of his hiding place. He dropped his cane with the intention of summoning his death scythe, but as he raised his left hand in preparation to catch his reaping tool when it materialized, but he saw a flash of metal and the next thing he knew, that hand was no longer there. He felt a searing pain shoot up his arm and he looked down at his gloved hand, now lying twitching on the cobblestones. He wasn't even aware of his own cry of pain as he finished summoning his scythe. He caught it with his right hand and he pressed the bloody stump where his hand had been severed at the wrist against his side.

At first he was utterly confused, but then he saw the familiar reaper he'd been trailing step out of the shadows, holding a dripping axe of human make in one hand.

"Bloody hell, that stung," hissed the mortician. He'd fought one-handed before though, after losing his pinky finger. At least this time it wasn't a scythe. He spun his own scythe defensively and he eyed Grell with new respect. "S'pose that's what I get for letting myself get distracted."

He looked down at his hand with a little sigh. He couldn't retrieve it without dropping his weapon and leaving himself open to another attack.

"No." Grell pointed the axe at Undertaker. "That's what you get for touching a Lady without her permission, fiend!"

He swiftly wedged the ax back into it's place, not bothering to clean the blood off before he stepped forward and he gracefully stole up the severed hand. "This hand touched me, I'd be inclined to say that it is mine, now. Now, why are you following me? Didn't get enough of a feel?"

Grell seemed to not care that the elder had his scythe in hand and he watched himself slip the glove off the pale hand, blood smearing over the white skin.

"But you do have a lovely scream." he giggled and spun around, licking up the length of Undertaker's dead, curled finger, following a bead of blood, and taking it into his mouth before the bead could fall. He sucked on the digit sexually, hooded eyes glinting as he watched Undertaker for his reaction.

If the Undertaker's grin was a bit tight with pain, most wouldn't have noticed. He nearly said that he had something else Grell could lick on, but his ghostly companions warned him against that.

"To answer your question, I'm curious. Haven't seen Willy come or go from his place since last night. I'm curious about how he's doing, but I couldn't very well come knocking on his door after the way he tattled on me t' Dispatch, could I?"

He shrugged, and then he grimaced as the voices of the dead got louder, distressed. "Quiet, all of you," he hissed. To Grell, he said: "Mayhap I thought you might have an answer to that...and mayhap I wanted to apologize. I'm afraid sometimes not even I know why I do some things, love."

The sparkle in Grell's eyes went out like a light, and a serious look came over his face as he lowered Undertaker's missing hand away from his lips.

"William," it was odd to hear Grell spit his name out in such a vile way, "completely snapped when I wanted to hear him confirm that he loves Ronnie, and rather than answering a simple yes or no, he took his scythe to me. He nearly killed me. And now he's gone and turned himself in for evaluation."

Grell turned, crossing his arms with a huff. "We'll see if I'll give him my blessings to date my cute little junior, now! Seriously, trying to reap me! Imagine! I wasn't even being half as annoying as I usually am to him!"

"He committed himself?" The Undertaker frowned. He knew how annoying Spears found Grell, but the man was not the sort to turn his scythe on any of his compatriots. If his control had slipped enough for that, he likely didn't even see Grell at all. "My, my...that's no good. No good at all. Here I was hoping he'd be fine once he got home, seeing as his usual line of work is a desk job and he'd not be venturing regularly into the mortal realm."

Realizing Grell had no idea of what he was talking about, the mortician looked at him again. No, Sutcliff couldn't possibly understand unless he too had experienced some of the trauma Will had and been afflicted with the voices of the dead in a similar manner. People tended to think it was all in the head when a reaper agent came home claiming he was hearing voices in the mortal realm. It had happened to others before—not just the Undertaker and William.

The Undertaker thought on it—thought on the drooling, whimpering sods he'd be in the company of, reapers like himself that had broken down eventually on the job. The difference was that under the care of people who believed it was merely an illness of the mind, they hadn't received the sort of help they truly needed in order to cope with it. Those reapers eventually sunk even deeper than the Undertaker and once they fell that far, there was no return. Not all patients under psychiatric care were there because they had become mediums, though. Some simply suffered post traumatic stress, and they usually improved in time. For the others like himself and Will, the answer wasn't just in counseling and medication. The trauma was only going to make it harder on Will.

"He might not hear them on that side," reasoned the mortician to himself, "but he is what he is now and his senses are going to keep showing him things they'll mistake for regular hallucinations."

The Undertaker himself had fought against the medics when he realized that their help wasn't actually going to help him...only hinder him. They'd thought he was just raving, though.

"What are you blabbering on about?" Grell asked, pointing Undertaker's own hand at him, "Will's cracked, and Ronnie's upset and passed out with a hangover because Eric let him drink while emotional, and you're going on about nonsense?"

He sighed and walked over, picking up his bags. "I'm going back to my way of forgetting about this mess; shopping." he said, forgetting about the hand he still held, dripping blood along the ground.

Undertaker jumped into action, swiftly blocking Grell's way with his scythe. "Now, just a moment. My hand isn't part of your merchandise. I'll have that back, thanks. In exchange, I'll cut a deal with you that even a lady like yourself might find hard to pass up."

"I'll believe it when I hear it!" Grell huffed, holding the hand away from Undertaker, "It had better be good. I told you, didn't I? The hand is mine now for having touched me!"

"Just a harmless li'l grope," excused the Undertaker. He was starting to feel a bit dizzy with blood loss, but he didn't show it. "I only did it 'cause your coworkers got me so confused. Had to check for myself. I'm sorry it offended you love, but you might think of it as a compliment. You're so pretty I can only see a lady when I look at you, regardless of bits."

He sighed. "Now as for the other part...how would you like to be the reaper that finally bagged ol' Undertaker and brought him in, eh? Give me a hand—or rather, my hand—and I'll relinquish myself to your custody."

It was a gamble he was taking and he knew it. There was no guarantee he'd end up in the same facility as William if he turned himself in. They might just toss him in a high security prison and write off any attempt to cure his madness as a lost cause.

"My 'bits' aren't what define me as a lady or a gentleman." Grell pointed out, "I'm a Lady to die for, and a man to die for, depending how I feel at the time! And why would you turn yourself over like that after years of evading us?"

"Well of course they aren't," agreed the mortician. "I just said that, didn't I? Anyways, it just seemed like a good idea at the time. As for why I'm making this offer, you've got my hand."

He nodded at the severed body part. "Now, I could probably wrest it from you, but then I might accidentally grope you somewhere again with the hand that's still attached. Besides, I could use a vacation from all the running and hiding...at least for a bit. I'm not obligated t' stay if I get terribly bored of it, after all. I've plenty of tricks up my sleeve."

He kept his desire to help Will to himself, only because Grell had so vehemently cursed the man earlier.

Grell narrowed his eyes in thought.

"Fine. But you get your hand back after I take you in. Just to assure that you won't take it and run. Now put that scythe away! Captured fugitive reapers don't get weapons!"

"Enjoying the power, eh?" Undertaker's smile faltered slightly as another dizzy spell struck. He would have loved to keep bantering with the redhead, but he didn't want to end the evening by falling flat on his face before he could set foot in the reaper realm. He banished his scythe as instructed and he pressed his bleeding stump tighter against his side.

"Ready when you are, Miss Sutcliff."

"Not yet." Grell sighed, and for the first time, he seemed to care about the older reaper. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, using it to help tie off the bleeding stump, "I'm not loosing these boots because you lost too much blood before I can turn you in," he explained before finally leading Undertaker through a portal he created.

William sat in one of the chairs by the window in the hallway, watching as the sun slowly rose on the horizon. He'd fallen asleep early due to the anti-anxiety medication they'd given him after dinner the day before. Evidently it made patients more manageable to dose them after the final meal of the day, which he was already finding to be an annoying practice. He was accustomed to staying up late...usually to do work. He already felt terribly unproductive, but he did feel more refreshed than usual. He accredited it to getting more than four to five hours of sleep, and he'd truly only woken up so early out of habit.

Will sighed and he glanced over at one of his fellow patients as the man began muttering to himself. He sighed, wishing he'd thought to bring ear plugs when he'd packed. He couldn't recall the fellow's name but he'd learned that the man with the shaggy, shoulder-length blond hair was a Dispatch agent from Liverpool. He'd been brought to the London facility for treatment and he virtually never shut up.

Wondering if that was to be his eventual fate too, William looked out the window again. The yellow-orange lighting up the puffy clouds underneath in the distance made him think of Ronald's hair. He wondered when he would see his lover again, and he thought of their interrupted encounter together. They hadn't even gotten to finish, thanks to the Undertaker.

As if summoned by the mere thought of the man, William heard his old mentor's familiar laugh and he froze in his seat, shocked.

"No...it can't be," he muttered. He was imagining things. Then a pair of orderlies walked by with a patient being escorted between them, and Will glanced their way. He sat up straighter in his chair, eyes widening with disbelief. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be seeing things as well. He'd already imagined one of the nurses turning into a Nazi soldier, shortly after his arrival to this place.

There was no mistaking what the orderly said when the patient they were escorting paused to wave a freshly, heavily bandaged hand at another patient that was staring at him with about the same look of disbelieving recognition as William.

"Keep moving, Undertaker," urged the orderly. "Let's get you to your cell. We'd rather not drug you but since we can't put you in a straight jacket in your condition, we'll have to if you give us any trouble."

"Just waving hullo to an admirer, is all." Undertaker hadn't noticed William yet, and his escorts started guiding him away.

"Wait," called William, getting up out of his seat. He hurried up behind the group. "Undertaker!"

"Mr. Spears, please step back," warned one of the orderlies. "This is a very dangerous prisoner. You can have introductions later if his confinement is lifted."

"Willy! You're looking well!" Undertaker tried to turn around, but his escorts would have none of it. "Ah well, it looks like I've got a date with a padded room. Mayhap I'll see you around in a few days, yeah?"

William combed his fingers through his hair, utterly bewildered. How on earth did they catch him and what happened to his hand?

"What in blazes is going on here?" he whispered as his old mentor was forcibly dragged down the hall to the confinement cells where they kept the most dangerous or unstable prisoners.

-To be continued