A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, been working on several other things. Will make the next chapter longer.
Grell watched William leave then sighed before following the nurses to one of the many available rooms and sighed once more before getting on the bed that they had told him to.
A nurse and a doctor had come into the room and looked him over; ignoring the disdainful looks the redhead was giving them. "Hello, Mr. Sutcliff, I am Dr. Charles and I will be watching over you until you're fully healed to leave." He said then gestured to the nurse. "And this is Margerate, she will be assisting me and I do hope there will be no problems, as it will put you and your job in danger."
Grell shook his head. "I don't care who you are, just do what you have to. I don't even want to be here to begin with." He replied, laying his stomach and moving his hair so that it fell down the side, away from his back. He then folded his arms and rested his head on them. He watched as the nurse filled a syringe and came back, wincing when the substance was injected into him, feeling himself drift to sleep.
He woke several hours later, wincing as he looked around, trying to make sense of things until he remembered where he was. Once he did, he sat up quickly, wanting to get out, but, giving a faint growl when he felt a pair of arms push him back on the bed. "Best to stay down, Sutcliff."
Grell rolled his eyes, looking at William from where he was on the bed. "Why should I?"
"You've just had surgery and it'll make things worse if you move too much, possibly killing you." He replied, moving back to where he was. "You're very lucky, you know. That blade of yours could have and should have gone right through you."
"And what would be wrong with that? Are you upset that I'm still alive and darkening your doorway?" He asked with a glare. "If so, why bother helping me live?"
William looked at him then shook his head. "Well, you know that you dying wouldn't help matters as far as soul collections go. You're the best in that field and our division is understaffed enough as it is."
"Of course, it's to do with work; otherwise I'd be a guest in a coffin at the Undertaker's." He replied, crossing his arms. "Heaven forbid it be something else, like actually giving a damn outside of work." He said with a sigh. He had been in love with the other for several years, but, he knew the other could care less.
William adjusted his glasses as he looked at the redhead. "According to the doctors here, you'll be healed and ready for work in two or three days, be prepared." He said, ignoring what Grell had said as he left the room.
Grell watched as he left then sighed, feeling his eyes begin to water. He was already hurt physically, why did emotionally have to be added to it? He didn't understand it. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head slightly before putting his face in his hands and ignoring the tears that had fallen from his eyes. He didn't bothered to stop them as he cried, eventually crying himself to sleep.