Chapter 3:

The sun was just beginning to rise as the darkness gave way to the glorious, spreading hues of red and gold. Slowly, the liquid beams crept stealthily over the landscape as their world began to awaken.

But it was all a lie.

The sun, the grass, and even the tiny wildflowers that swayed delicately in the fields in the soft breeze were all fake. It was merely an illusion to trick the part of their brains that still clung to their former humanity they had once tried to forsake. Yet, as William stood there, he realized he no longer cared for this false environment that surrounded him. The cold, gray stone emblazoned with the name Grell Sutcliff was the only reality. Only Grell's name had been etched into the stone. There were no titles of wife, lover, or even friend beneath, and William's heart ached at the omission.

"It has been rather quiet as of late," William stated as his eyes crawled across the stone, "Aside from one minor outbreak of the measles, there has not been any incidences that have resulted in extensive overtime."

His only answer was the wind, and he adjusted his glasses uncomfortably. He was no better at talking to her now then he had been when she was alive.

"The weather has also been surprisingly cooperate considering the season," he continued, "I know it can be an unpleasant experience to be thoroughly drenched while still on the clock. Speaking of clocks, I suppose I must be going now. It would be unseemly for a supervisor to be tardy." He hated how cold and professional his words sounded, even if she could no longer hear him, but it was difficult for him to speak any other way.

Carefully, he placed a single red rose on her grave just as he did each day before turning to walk away. After taking a few steps, he paused and glanced back one last time. "I miss you," he said in a soft tone that was carried away with the breeze.

While he could have created a portal to work, he preferred to walk as it gave him a chance to organize his thoughts and put them back in a straight, orderly line. By the time he reached dispatch, there was no sign of superfluous emotion on his face, and no one would have any way of knowing where he had been or what he had done. As always, he arrived before the agents.

Grell's desk set in the far corner, just as it had been for years, but now it was set up almost like a shrine to the fiery reaper. While her assignments had been removed, every little doodle and useless ornament had been left in place. While alive, she had been a bit of an outcast among the rest of the agency and a walking punchline to a poorly written joke, but her death had raised her to almost a legendary status. It had been five years since the incident in the library, but you could hear the tales of it tiptoe up and down the halls as if it had happened only yesterday. Newly assigned reapers would pause before the desk, their eyes growing wide, as they recounted the story they had heard of how Grell had, single-handedly, protected the library from a hoard of demons until backup had arrived. William often had to bite his lip to keep from remarking that the stories didn't even come close to doing Grell justice.

He heard footsteps coming this direction, so he hurriedly walked into his own office to avoid being seen staring at Grell's desk like some kind of sentimental fool. By the time the first few agents trickled in, still yawning as if the last vestiges of sleep clung to their brains, William was standing in his doorway like an immoveable, unfeeling sentinel. Almost no one even bothered to say hello or wish him a good morning as they walked past. Once most everyone had arrived, William shut his door and walked slowly to his own desk to get an early start on the paperwork that seemed to stretch forever. Since this was his punishment for the mistakes he had made in his human life, perhaps that was exactly how long it stretched.

He had worked for several hours without making an apparent dent in his workload, when a knock interrupted his thoughts. "Enter," he announced, as he sat straighter in his chair.

The door opened and he found himself staring in the too somber face of Ronald Knox. Besides himself, Ronald had been the most affected by Grell's passing, and he had never completely recovered. He had tried to drown himself in liquor and narcotics, and he would have ended his life again had it not been for his reaper stamina and resistance. Although he drank heavily almost every waking hour he was not working, he was always apparently sober when he came to office due to his own enhanced healing. The poison simply didn't affect him the same.

"I think there's a mistake in my jobs for today," Ronald began, his voice hoarse as if he had been gargling glass, "unless I'm supposed to reap the same bloke twice."

William frowned slightly. "Let me see," he instructed, holding out his hand.

Ronald's face darkened when he stepped into the room. Not only had he become less sociable since Grell's passing, William often sensed that the younger reaper was particularly upset with him for some reason. Perhaps it was because he had put Grell in the library, even though he had no idea that it would be dangerous at the time. It wasn't as if William hadn't blamed himself for that decision, but it bothered him that Ronald might feel the same way. Not a word was spoken as he handed the paperwork over for William to study.

"It's not the same man," William said after a few minutes, "but rather twin brothers with nearly identical names."

"Oh, I see," Ronald said, retrieving the paperwork, "I just thought that the higher ups had gone a little dotty or something."

There was a rough knock on William's door, but it was opened before he had a chance to speak. William knew the man in his doorway well for he was one of the senior faculty of the academy, but it had been some time since he had spoken to him directly. "Mr. Hamilton," William said, "Is there something I can help you with, sir?"

Hamilton nodded quickly. He was a small man with thinning blonde hair and usually a quick smile painted on his somewhat ruddy face, but now he looked distressed. He was paler than usual and sweat was gathering upon the scalp which was visible. "I need you to come with me," he said in a slightly out of breath tone, "and you should come as well Knox. This may just affect both of you."

William and Ronald shared a quick look, but something had obviously disturbed Hamilton quite a bit, so they didn't spend any extra time discussing the matter. William quickly stood and walked across the room to follow Hamilton and Ronald fell in step behind both of them. As they hurried on to the student portion of their realm, William couldn't help but wonder what had upset the older man so much. He had known him for over a century now, and he had never seen him so flustered.

The entered a small building where no recruits were taken to be slowly awakened as reapers for the first time. It was such a small, unassuming building painted a pale gray that it was hard to think the importance it held for all of them. To William's knowledge, every reaper currently in existence had first opened their green and gold eyes in that building. Apparently, it held some new importance as Hamilton led them inside and into an observation room. William was about to ask why they had come to this room, when he happened to look through the glass, and his breath caught in his throat. There was no mistaking that flame red hair, even it was a good deal shorter, or fair, porcelain skin that manage to shine even under the dull light. Mesmerized, William watched as the slender fingers tapped the table rapidly and felt his own heart speed up to match the rhythm, but he couldn't seem to will his mouth to form any coherent words. While he was still struggling, Ronald walked beside him and gasped.

"Grell!" he exclaimed, and William could see his wide eyes glistening.

"I don't understand what is happening here," William finally managed.

"We're all stumped," Hamilton admitted, "but Sutcliff here just suddenly appeared with the new recruits. It appears that he's been reborn as well."

William mentally corrected Hamilton's pronoun usage, although he felt a twinge of guilt for every time he had been guilty of the same thing. "I was under the assumption that such a thing is impossible," he said as he struggled to keep his tone even.

"It's a miracle," Ronald stated.

"I thought it was impossible too," Hamilton agreed, "So, maybe young Knox here is right. Maybe this is a miracle. But now we have to figure what to do next." He sighed loudly and ran his hand through his hair, causing a few strands to stand up like a pale rooster's comb. "He has no memory of his previous existence as a reaper. It's like he's being reborn from his human life all over again."

"So what does that mean precisely?" asked William.

Hamilton leaned heavily on the mirror although Grell couldn't see him. "He'll have to start all over again," he replied, "From the first class of the academy. It's possible his memories may return, but there's no way to know. There's no precedence to any of this! But the big question is what to tell him."

"Why is that such a big problem?" demanded Ronald, "Maybe that will just help Grell remember."

"It's a problem because we can't unduly influence Sutcliff," William said slowly as the realization dawned on him, "Just like there are those who are unable to remember their human lives when they are first reborn, we cannot share too much information with them. It is so they might find their own path. It is an ancient rule among all reapers."

Ronald grumbled something about that being a foolish rule, but Hamilton was nodding. "Precisely," he said, "We'll have to tell him some things of course. There's too many that will recognize him, but I thought we'd keep it simple. We'll just tell him that he was a reaper before but died in a demon attack. That's the truth, but we can't elaborate any further. We still don't even know why he was reborn."

"I think it would be best if I was the one to talk to Sutcliff," William announced.

Hamilton nodded. "That's why I wanted Knox and you to be here," he said, "but there's one thing you need to understand. This isn't the Sutcliff you knew."

"What do you mean?" William question, "She looks the same as when we went to the academy. I am well aware that her temper was more of an issue initially, but she was still Grell."

There was a long pause as Hamilton seemed to search for his words. If he had noticed that William had referred by her surname or she, he didn't react. "You didn't meet Sutcliff until you last year of the academy, did you?" he asked in return.

"I only met her when we were assigned to be partners on our final exam," William answered. The question perplexed him as he no clue what point Hamilton may be trying to make. "We were in different classes up until that point."

Hamilton nodded again. "When Sutcliff was a student originally," he began in a slow, measured tone, "he…she was much shyer and meeker. I suppose it was just left over from struggles in life that had led her here. Unfortunately, not all of the students were kind, and we were never sure what precisely happened since Sutcliff refused to say. Afterwards, Sutcliff had changed – developing the anger and attitude you mentioned. None of this has happened, so those personality traits haven't developed just yet." He sighed loudly. "This isn't the Sutcliff you knew," he finally reiterated.

William didn't respond. The entire time Hamilton had been talking he had been looking through the glass. While she couldn't see them, Grell had turned their way and William's eyes had locked onto those lovely two-toned irises that he knew so well.

It didn't matter what Hamilton had said. This was still Grell. She was still his Grell.

((x))

She sat nervously in the plain, cool room as she drummed her fingers on the table top. Although she couldn't be certain, she hadn't seen anyone else herded into a room like this, so she worried that she had already done something wrong or was being singled out. It appeared that the story of her life had ever followed her to second life, but she didn't dare laugh at the pitiful irony. She was far too worried for that. Breathing deeply, she looked at the large mirror that dominated one wall, but resisted the urge to make a face at her reflection. Although she appreciated the new eye color, which was so much vibrant than dull green eyes she had possessed previously, the rest of her face displeased her as always. With her recently cut hair, her features seemed even harsher than usual.

The door behind her opened, and she turned slightly to see three men enter the room. She smiled slightly, although she feared that they had come here to deliver the usual bad news. Silently, she studied each of the men as they entered.

The first one was tall and slender. His perfectly groomed dark hair and square, no-nonsense glasses gave him the air of someone who didn't stand for any foolishness. There was a certain coldness to his facial features and rigid stance, and the expression in eyes was impossible to determine. She fought not to squirm under his fierce gaze as she shifted her eyes to the next man.

He looked younger and was neither as tall nor as strict in appearance as the first man. The top half of his playful hair was blonde but the base was black, and it had been carefully styled so as to not look styled. His glasses were oversized which added to his youthful appearance, and his outfit seemed to fit the bill of professional while still maintaining an individual style. The expression on his face was also hard to determine, although he looked as if he was struggling not to cry for some reason.

The final visitor was close to the same height as the young man, but he clearly looked the oldest of the three. He was stockier built with thinning, blonde hair. His glasses consisted of a simple, black frame that neither added nor detracted from his overall look. Although well dressed, she could see wet patches of sweat gathering beneath his arms and corresponding beads of sweet on his forehead. He simply appeared scared and nervous.

"Hello," she greeted, and she silently cursed herself for the way her voice squeaked. She hated being so meek because she knew that, somewhere deep inside her, there was so much more passion and fire wrapped up in her plain shell. She just didn't know how to release it.

"Hello, Sutcliff," the tall man greeted, "My name is William T. Spears. I trust you were able to attend the reaper orientation before you were brought here."

"Yes, sir."

To her surprise, the man winced slightly as if her words were offensive somehow. "So, you understand that you've been reborn as a reaper because you attempted to end your own human life?"

"Yes, sir," she repeated, "Although there is still a lot that that I'm confused about."

He waved his hand dismissively. "It will become more comprehensible with time," he said, "There is something about your case that is different, however, which is why we have come here to address." He paused slightly as more unreadable emotions flickered across his face like sunbeams passing through clouds. "This is the second time being reborn as a reaper. While I understand you have no memory of this, we felt it was important that you were given this information. There may be those here who will seem to know you that will be as complete strangers. This should not alarm you."

She carefully took in all this information. "Second time being reborn?" she asked, "What happened to me the first time?"

The man adjusted his glasses and the glare of the overhead lights hid his eyes from her. "You were killed by demons."

Somehow the knowledge that she had be killed disturbed her despite the fact she could clearly remember ending her own life. "I see," she managed, her voice shaky, "So, did we know each other before?" Smiling slightly, she shifted her eyes over the trio and allowed them to rest on the young, blonde man. The tears in his eyes were more evident now, but he had begun to smile. "We were friends, weren't we?" she asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, but the man who had identified himself as William put his hand in front of the young man to stop him. "I am afraid that former friendships are not viable matters at this point," he said, "Our focus needs to be on…"

Before he could finish a young man with spikey brown hair ran into the room. He whispered something that she couldn't quite hear to William and his younger companion, and she saw their expressions change to one of shock and surprise.

"Hamilton," William began, "I'm afraid that we have to go and attend to an urgent matter."

"Of course," Hamilton replied, "I'll attend to Sutcliff here."

William nodded and rushed from the room, but she noticed that he hesitated briefly in the doorway to glance back at her. His face was as cryptic as ever, and she begin to fear that she had known this man before, and that he hated her. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. Once he and the younger man whose name she hadn't caught left the room, Hamilton laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's been quite a day," he began, "Let's get you settled in your dorm room. We thought that you might like a room to yourself."

She nodded silently as she stood. Of course they give her a room to herself. She would be alone.

Just like always.

((x))

"Why would a demon enter our realm by himself?" Ronald asked, as soon as he and William had stepped through the portal, "Isn't that suicide?"

"Actions from accursed creatures rarely make sense to a rational mind," William replied, but his heart beat faster as they walked through the cemetery. Soon, they came across a plethora of agents who had managed to capture the lone demon with no visible injuries or losses. The demon in question, who had the appearance of a young, blonde man with piercing blue eyes, was cursing in an ancient language as he struggled in vain with the celestial handcuffs that had been firmly attached to his wrists.

William's attention, however, wasn't on the demon, but on their current location. Just to the left set Grell's supposed final resting place. The scarlet rose he had left just that morning was crumpled and destroyed as it lay on the trampled grass next to an open, empty maw that had once been Grell's grave.