Chapter 4:
He sat motionless on the floor of the featureless, gray cell without speaking, although the occasional growl would pass through his cracked lips when anyone would step too close to the bars. So far, the demon had not dropped his human disguise except for his eyes. The previously blue irises were now a swirling vortex of reds and violets, and the sight of it only inspired more anger from William. He had always despised demons, but his disgust had grown exponentially since Grell's death. These vile creatures always seemed to be core of so much of his troubles and heartache.
"Why do you think it came here?" Ronald whispered to William, but the demon's ears were apparently as sensitive as their own.
The demon laughed unpleasantly, rocking forward slightly as he did. "You could ask IT," he said, as sarcasm dripped from his tone like venom, "but I don't think you'll get an answer."
William's anger rose, and he took the seven steps to the front of the cell and slammed his palm against a button nearby. A blue, celestial energy suddenly rippled through the room and the demon cried out in pain as his body began to jerk like a poorly operated marionette. His dance of agony did nothing to abate William's rage, but he didn't stop the wave of energy until he smelled the demon's hair begin to singe. With some reluctance, he released the button and stepped back slightly.
The demon breathed loudly and hoarsely as his spasms subsided, but then he only began to laugh as he had before. "I will remember this," he growled in a low tone that no longer resembled anything remotely human, "and you will be punished accordingly. Just wait and see! When my kind possess the forbidden power and are risen to the level we so rightly deserve, you will be punished." Exhausted from the pain, he pitched forward onto his face, but even muffled against the floor, it was still possible to hear his insane, horrible laughter. The sound seemed to follow William as he left prison with nothing to show for all his efforts except for more questions.
None of this made any sense. William was thankful that Grell had returned, even if she no longer had any memories of her being a reaper, but this was just too much of a mystery. While he had been waiting to question the demon, he had learned that Grell's grave was truly empty, and more demons had been sighted in the human world, although none had moved to attack any reapers. He had no idea how or even why the two events were connected, but he feared for Grell's safety – especially since this Grell hadn't learned to protect herself from demons. It was doubtful she had been given so much as a trainee scythe yet, and any demon willing to physically travel to this realm was obviously desperate enough to pose a serious threat. He turned and looked back at Ronald, who had been following closely.
"We have to increase our defenses," William announced, "There is no proof that these beasts are targeting Sutcliff personally or if her return merely coincides with their recent activity, but it would be prudent for her to be moved to a more secure location."
Ronald's eyes had been locked on the ground, but now his gaze rose until he was looking at William directly, and there was a surprising anger burning in his two-toned irises. "You act awfully protective of her now," he said, "What? Do you feel guilty? You should."
William halted immediately and spun around to face the younger man. "Do you blame me for Grell's death?" he demanded, "Do you? Is that the reason you've been acting like this since…" His voice trailed off as he found himself to finish his thought.
"Since Grell died," Ronald finished, as tears began to fill his eyes. "In a way, I do blame you" he answered after a few moments, "but not because you told her to be in the library. No, I blame you for always turning your back on Grell when she needed you. She laid her heart out to you and always tried to get your attention. She died trying to do what you wanted you to do. That's what I blame you for!" His voice had risen with each word, and his shoulders were shaking as he cried freely.
"Did you love her?" William asked quietly.
"Yes, but not in the way she loved you," replied Ronald, "She was my mentor and friend, but she was more than that. She was like my big sister I guess, and the only one I could count on." He lifted up his glasses and swiped at his tears almost violently. "I could go to her with my problems, and she would listen, but no one, other than me, ever listened to her. Do you know how many times she told me how much she loved you?"
William shook his head. "I did push her away," he admitted, "but I'm determined not to make the same mistakes again."
"Maybe it's a good thing that Grell can't remember anything," Ronald said, "She can't remember the way you treated her in the past. Who knows? If we're lucky, this time Grell will be smart enough not to fall in love with you in the first place."
William winced at the words, but he recognized that Ronald was only speaking out of hurt – and there was some truth as to what he had said. "Perhaps," he agreed hoarsely, "I cannot undo my past mistakes, but I plan to do everything in my ability not to repeat my errors." He adjusted his glasses and looked at Ronald sternly, but he could already see a bit of the blonde reaper's anger had dissipated. "Go and get Sutcliff," he instructed, "and bring her back to Dispatch. She will be safest surrounded by field agents."
Ronald looked as if he was going to protest, but then he simply nodded and walked away. William couldn't help but notice how Ronald's shoulders were slumped slightly, as if he was carrying a heavy load, and he hoped that the previous outburst had helped him slightly. Ronald was right in a lot of what he had said, and William had struggled with the guilt for so long now. He had sent Grell to the library because he hadn't wanted her to flirt with Sebastian, and to keep her safely out of the way, but he had sent her to her death. This was all his fault, but he was going to finally make things right.
((x))
Grell walked slowly and deliberately across the grassy area to a simple bench beneath a lovely tree. Everything was so confusing. Hamiliton had said it was always confusing for brand new reapers since everything was so different and new, but it was different for her. So many here seemed to know her, but they were nothing but strangers. She had heard her name called a few times now, and she had been treated almost as if she was a celebrity. While she had sought recognition and acknowledgement in her human life, it felt too strange to be remembered for something that she had apparently forgotten. To make matters worse, she felt like everyone else knew more about who she was than she did, but they all had decided to keep it a secret from her. Her emotions was already swinging wildly from confusion, sadness, to anger. She couldn't understand why someone just didn't tell her something.
"Aren't you that Grell Sutcliff freak?" a voice demanded nearby.
She looked up and saw a group of older students surrounding her. She had been so lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't heard them approach, but now she did her best to give a friendly smile. "I'm Grell Sutcliff," she answered – purposely ignoring the freak comment for the moment.
The apparent leader of the group was a tall, broad-shouldered young man with wavy hair the color sand. He laughed in a mocking manner as he stared down at her. Even if she had been standing, he would have towered over her. "I thought you were that freak," he said, "I'd heard you come back, but I didn't believe it. Here I thought I'd never have a chance to challenge you." He laughed as he stepped forward and his comrades created a semicircle around them.
"They say you were the best ever in Practical," he continued, "No one had ever gotten a triple A before, and no one has sense, but I know I'm better with my scythe. Let me see what you've got!" He extended his hand and a tool that she realized must be his scythe appeared in his grasp.
"But I don't even have a scythe!" Grell returned.
He laughed again. "That's okay," he said, "Conrad here will loan you his for now, as long as you don't let it get too stained with your blood." A thin man with a thick mane of black hair stepped forward to offer her what she could tell was a crooked, useless weapon.
"What's going on here?" someone demanded.
Grell turned and let out a sigh of relief when she saw the young man with the blonde and black hair she had seen before. He had looked at her kindly and warmly the first time they had met, or rather the first time she could remember meeting him, and she was hopeful he was here to lend a hand.
"Nothing," the tall student said, "We were just going." He seemed to almost pout as him and his friends turned and walked away. Grell worried it wouldn't be the last time she would see them, although she couldn't help but think things would have gone different if she did have her own scythe.
"Thank you," she said.
The blonde man returned her smile and extended his hand to help her to her feet. "What did they want?" he asked.
"I think they were trying to challenge me."
He frowned slightly. "How did they even know you were here?" he asked, but his tone was so low she suspected he was talking to himself more than her. Shaking his head, his casual smile returned. "No need to worry about that," he said, "I've come to take you over to dispatch. It's where you used to work, so we thought you'd like it there. It might even help bring your memories back." He held his arm, and she gladly took it.
"Anything's better than just wandering around here, I suppose," she said.
"Oh, and to answer your earlier question, we were friends before."
The news made her feel buoyant, and she smiled brightly. "I knew it!" she exclaimed, "It's so good to know that I had at least one friend. So, friend, mind telling me your name?"
He laughed softly. "Ronald Knox," he answered, "but you called me Ronnie or Ron…or some nicknames I'd rather not remind you of just yet."
"Tell me," she pleaded.
"No way!"
They continued to tease each other as they walked back to what she assumed to be Dispatch, and she found herself happier and more relaxed than she had been since first waking up in this odd realm. There were some stares when she entered the building, but these were friendlier and less challenging. She was greeted with "…good to see you again," rather than someone wanting to see if she was tough or still some sort of freak. Yet, despite this change, she still sensed there was something off just below the surface. Ronnie had always been her friend, and she could feel that, but she wasn't so sure about everyone else. She felt they were looking at her with something of fear and disgust, and she couldn't help but wonder what she had done before to make them look at her like that.
Ronald led her to a desk that he told her was hers, and she did feel at home there. The little doodles were just like the ones she had always made when bored, and she so loved all the red of the little ornaments. At least there was one place around here where she felt like she belonged. She was just getting settled when the man that had introduced himself as William previously stepped out of a nearby office. His cold eyes barely glanced at her, and again she felt as if he even had trouble just looking at her.
"Knox," he said, "A word."
Ronald sighed softly, but he immediately walked over to the open door of the office. "I'll be right back," he said to Grell before disappearing inside.
She smiled at him as she turned her attention back to the battered and scarred desk. This had been hers, and she ran her hands across the surface hoping to spark some memory.
But there was nothing.
((x))
"What is it Mr. Spears?" Ronald asked after he had shut the door. To William's relief, he didn't sound as angry or upset as he had before.
"I've received some troubling news, Knox," William began, "Word of Sutcliff's apparent resurrection has spread very quickly. In fact, it has spread too quickly, and has produced some unexpected reactions."
Ronald nodded. "When I went to retrieve Grell," he said, "there was this group of students trying to challenge her."
"Quite frankly, this does not make any sense," William admitted, "While there is no precedent for such an event, it is very surprising at how fast word has spread. While there are those who are happy at the news, or see Sutcliff as some sort of hero that has returned, there is a lot of negative speculation as well. She is being blamed for the rise of demonic activity, as well as troubles among the new class of reapers."
"Already?" Ronald asked, "But she just returned this morning."
"I am well aware of that fact, Knox," replied William, "which is why I feel that I do not understand this current situation. Of course, that is not the most disturbing bit of news." He turned and picked up a folder from his desk before waving it towards Knox slightly. William wanted to burn the accursed contents of the folder, and it was hard to contain all the anger raging inside of him.
"This is from Upper Management," he said, "and they state their orders come from even higher on the management chain. The matter is to be investigated quickly, but they are already of the mindset that Grell's return was unnatural and will interfere with the delicate balance we strive so hard to maintain."
William took a deep breath as he dreaded the words that had to pass through his lips. "They said that Grell was supposed to remain dead and feel that she should be killed."
For a moment, there was no words as a myriad of emotions flickered across Ronald's face. "They can't be serious," he finally managed.
"I fear that they are," William replied, "but I won't let them do that. I couldn't protect Grell before, but I am determined to do my best this time."
"But what are you going to do?"
"I don't know," admitted William, "but if they come to take Grell's life, then I will do what I need to protect her. This might mean I will have to leave my position, and this realm, forever."
Ronald blinked a few times. "You'd be giving up your own redemption," he said in a quiet tone.
"So be it," William replied, "What good is redemption if I couldn't stand who I'd become to obtain it. If that means I have to be a deserter, then that is what I'll do." He dropped the folder on his desk and almost managed a wry smile. "Do you think I'd make a good undertaker? I've heard that's a good professor for deserters."
"Well, I don't think your clients would complain about your personality, or rather the lack thereof," returned Ronald.
They briefly laughed, and William was thankful that Ronald hadn't made fun of his brief attempt at dark humor. They had just needed a moment to calm down and collect their thoughts as the struggled to figure out their next move.
Before they could think of what to do, a shout outside of the office suddenly erupted, and they knew their moment to calm down had passed.
((x))
Grell was sitting quietly at her desk, running her fingers along some of the gouge marks, when a woman suddenly screamed behind her. More curious than frightened, she turned to see the cause of the commotion, when her own mouth fell open in surprise and a soundless scream. She might had lost all of her memories as a reaper, but she certainly knew an angel when she saw one.
She looked to be a frighteningly beautiful woman with flowing locks of golden hair that moved about her delicate form under their own power. Her eyes were icy blue and had no emotion in the cold irises as they flickered about the room, but her small, pink mouth curled into the slightest of smiles when her gaze fell up on Grell. She shifted her snowy wings as her she raised her hand to point at Grell at the very moment William and Ronald rushed out of the office.
"Grell Sutcliff," the angel announced, her voice echoing about the room, "You are to come with me."
"Wait a moment," William said, "What is going on here? Why are you demanding Grell to go with you?"
The angel looked mildly annoyed. "The reaper known as Grell Sutcliff is no longer safe," she replied, "even among his own kind. He will be brought up to the higher celestial realm where he can be properly protected."
"A reaper cannot last long in the higher celestial realm since they still retain physical bodies," countered William, "as well as mortal memories. It will destroy her mind and body."
"Then you wish for him to remain here and be killed?" asked the angel.
"No," replied William, "Grell will stay here and I, we, will protect her."
The angel took a few steps forward. "If I choose to take the reaper, even all of you combined will not be able to stop me."
"We will try," William stated.
The angel snorted softly. "Very well then, but know this. If death finds Grell Sutcliff once again, the crime and punishment will be on your head." She smiled cynically, and William couldn't help but think the angel was giving up a little too easily, as if this had been an act, when she flapped her wings a few times and created a portal that enveloped her form. Within seconds, she had disappeared completely.
"I think our problem just got bigger," Ronald said, "What are we going to do?"
"Precisely what I said we were going to do," William replied, "We are going to protect Grell." Walking over, the tall, stoic man stared down at Grell, but this time there was some other emotion in his usually cold eyes. "You will be staying in my apartment tonight until we can get matters sorted out. This will be for your own protection."
Grell wanted to argue because she wanted at least a voice in a matter that seemed to concern her exclusively, but she liked the way William had spoken so forcefully and in control. "I understand," she managed, although she confused why she felt her cheeks burning as if she was blushing.