The nightmare, the horrible visions, assualted William's brain, and he was helpless to make it stop. Finally, a scream burst from his lungs and he was able to sit up in the bed. His breath came in ragged gasps, as he held his head in his hands. Even though he was awake, he couldn't shake the memories that continued to play like black cinematic record.

Gell must have entered the room, although he hadn't heard her, because he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Will?" she asked.

He knocked her hand away and stared up at her. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"Tell you what?" Grell asked. She seemed genuinely confused, and might have asked again had there not been a soft tapping at the window. She looked at him for a moment before she walked across the room; her bare feet padding quietly across the wood. For the first time, he noticed she was dressed in a pair of red and black silk pajamas, and her hair had been pulled back in a sensible braid. He tried not to look, but he couldn't help but think about how much better she looked when her hair was loose and wild.

She opened the window and Rosalind flew into the room. The pigeon paused to let Grell retrieve a note carefully tied to her leg before flying over to William. He resisted the urge to shoo the bird away as he felt he didn't deserve her comfort at the moment, but that would have only confused Rosalind. He allowed her to perch on her shoulder as he liked while Grell looked over letter.

"It's from Pops," she announced, "They assigned Emily to your case. I don't think you met her but she was Ron...she was a secretary. Odd choice really. I doubt she has anything more than a practice scythe and isn't experienced in recovery."

Quietly she read he rest of the letter to herself, and he was well aware she had almost said something she had thought better of, but he decided not to challenge her at the moment. His head still hurt as the forbidden images continued to play in his mind, so was only watching her out of the corner of his eye. She captured his attention fully however, as she began to remove her glasses. "What are you doing?" he asked. His voice was hoarse from his earlier yelling.

"Upper Management is about to declare me a deserter," Grell explained, as she motioned for Rosalind, "So I need to go ahead and give up my glasses before they can be used to track me." She handed the eye wear to Rosalind, who took the chain carefully in her beak. "Pops has already instructed Rosalind here to drop my glasses somewhere random.

He jumped from the bed and ran across the room. "You can't desert," he said, "not for me. Not after what I've done." He shook his head as anger flooded his sense. "Why didn't you tell me that I tried to rape you?!"

Confusion fluttered across her face like an errant butterfly, but then she simply smiled. "Oh, don't worry about that, darling," she said, "Passion just swept us away, and you couldn't resist me."

"Don't!" he growled as he roughly grabbed her arm, "Don't turn what happened into some sort of sick fantasy for your perverted mind!"

A shadow fell upon her features and he saw a danger green fire kindling in her eyes. "Perverted!" she spat, "Is that what you think of me?" With a noise of disgust, she jerked her arm away as she pushed past him to leave, but paused at the doorway to turn and face him. "Just so you know, William," she said, "I hadn't turned anything into any sort of fantasy. I recognize that it was the demon that made you act like that. You're not a rapist, and I know that, and you especially wouldn't try and rape me. You can't even stand me!"

With a huff, she left the room and slammed the door behind her with enough force that William briefly feared she might have broken it. He stood in the center of the room in silence, while Rosalind looked at him with curious eyes. "You should go," he said to her. She looked at him for a few more moments before flapping her wings to fly out into the night. He walked to the window to watch disappear, but he couldn't stop thinking about his argument with Grell. In truth, he had been angry at himself and had taken it out on her. It wasn't fair nor was it even the first, but now he planned to do something he had never done before. He was going to apologize.

He stepped into the hallway and started to turn towards Grell's room when he saw the glow of light coming from downstairs. As he followed the light, he realized that Grell had built a crackling fire in the parlor, and he had to admit the warmth would feel good. It was late autumn, and there was a chill to the night. Quietly, he walked into the parlor only to see Grell sitting in a chair with her feet under her body as she watched the fire. Her face was pale in the reflected light, but her eyes were glistening as if filled with tears she hadn't yet cried. She didn't look at him when he walked into the room and sat down on the couch.

Several minutes passed as he searched for the right words. "I'm sorry," he finally said, "I should have never have insinuated you were perverted."

She snorted. "Those are the rumors, Will," she said, "and I'm well aware of that. I've heard the whispers and gossip."

"But I wasn't being fair." He sighed deeply, "That demon let me see what I almost did to you," he explained, "I had to watch the whole thing, but I couldn't stop it, and it scared me."

"You saw it?" she asked, turning towards him slightly.

"Yes," he said, nodding, "I didn't remember any of it, but now I see why you said you hated me when you came to see me in prison. It wasn't just because of what I did to Ronald."

"What the demon did," Grell quickly corrected, "Did it show you anything else?"

"Not yet, although I say I will see everything soon enough. I am in control of my actions now, but it can still attack me in my dreams." He paused as he studied her features. "And you are mistaken, Grell. I don't not hate you nor can I barely stand you."

"Then why do you act like you do around me?" she asked, turning to face him directly. She blinked a few times nearsightedly, and he doubted he was much more than a blur to her at the moment.

"Because I didn't understand you," he replied, "I never have. You are intriguing but confusing. I want to understand." He paused as he looked up at the picture of Madam Red. "That's why I asked you about her," he said, pointing, "I know it probably came up out of nowhere, but I had to know. I was hoping it would help me to understand."

"Did it?" she asked.

"Somewhat," he said, "but I am still confused. I just don't understand how you could let things get so far out of hand. I knew you could be impulsive, but I never thought you'd go that far. That's what I need to know. How? Was it her?" He gestured again towards the painting, which seemed to smile mockingly at him. "You say you loved her, but were you..." His voice trailed as he found himself hesitant to vocalize his thoughts.

"Was I what?" she asked, "Sleeping with her?" William nodded, causing Grell to throw back her head and laugh almost madly. "Darling, you really don't understand, do you? Ann was in love with her brother-in-law. Obsessed is probably a better word, honestly. She could have never loved me in that fashion. I couldn't have satisfied her, nor could she had done so far me. I also was in love with another, and she could have never taken you place." She turned away slightly. "But maybe I'm just as foolishly obsessed as she was."

This conversation was making him somewhat uncomfortable. She had confessed her feelings towards him so many times, but this was one of the first times he believed her words. "You still haven't haven't answered my other question about how it went so far," he said.

"It's hard to say," she admitted, "I always had all this anger and aggression, and it seemed like it was safe to express it through Ann. At first, I was only collecting souls and helping her set alibis and move around safely. I could watch, but the next thing I knew there was a knife in my hand. Each time I slashed those women, it was like I was killing all those people who call me a whore or Slutcliff behind my back." She laughed bitterly. "Madness is a slippery slope, Will, and I've always been right on the edge. Isn't that true of all reapers though?" Turning around, she put her feet on the floor and leaned towards him. "Now, it's your turn to answer my questions. You say you don't hate me, but you're so rough on me at times. I like my men cold and hard, but there are times you hurt me. Why? Why do you treat me like that?"

He hadn't been prepared for that question. "It is my job as supervisor to keep all my agents in line," he said gruffly.

"I don't buy that, darling," she retorted, "You are rough with everyone, but you are especially hard on me, and you know it. It's been like since my time with Ann. Is that it?"

"I don't think that's relevant."

"Why not?" she asked, "I've been honest with you, and now it's your turn. Why are you meaner to me? Why do you hit me so callously?"

"Because I almost lost you!" he suddenly admitted but then he shut up quickly. He could tell by the look on her face, he had said far more than he had intended, but there was no turning back. "I thought you were going to be taken away after you committed those murders," he said, "You almost were, and that...scared me. Perhaps I am too rough, but I don't want you to step out of line and miss your chance at redemption. I don't want you to be taken away."

She looked confused. "You're mean to me because you care?"

"That's a stupid reason," he said, "and it's not an excuse." He ran a hand through his uncombed hair. "I'm sorry," he added, "I was too rough on you. I had my reasons, but it was wrong. I don't have any excuse my actions and I can only ask for your forgiveness. If I am still your supervisor after all this is over, I will not hit or abuse you. I will still have to make sure you do your job, but I will not be abusive."

"Perhaps you could just promise not to hit regardless of being being my supervisor," she suggested.

He nodded again. "I promise," he said, "I should have never been so rough on you in the first place. I will never lay hands on you again."

Smiling, she stood up and stretched. "At least not in anger," she said, "I don't care if you lay hands on me in other ways." With a flirtatious laugh, she turned and started back towards her bedroom. "I'll be ready to go in a bit."

"Go? Go where?"

"To the market," she answered, "We don't have much in the way of supplies, and it's almost morning."

"I'll go with you," he offered.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, "You were never that good at disguises, and you are wanted at this time. I might not be listed as a deserter just yet, and I was best at altering my appearance." She glanced back over her shoulder with a mischievous shine to her eyes. "I know you don't like to hang around and do nothing, but do let me take care of you just a bit." With a light laugh, she disappeared down the hallway.

((x))

London was bustling as usual as Grell walked through, but no one even seemed to glance in direction. Of course, that had been the point of a good disguise, but there was still a part of Grell that balked at the idea of simply blending in and appearing like another common person. She was proud of this disguise though, and even William had seemed impressed. She was wearing one of Madam Red's more demure dresses, and one of the few that was actually pink instead of red. Her hair was a plain dark blonde color, and her eyes a dull hazel behind the plain glasses she had saved from when she had played a butler. Although a few of men had nodded courteously as she walked about, but no one took as much as a second glance at her. It was a shame in a way, but at least she was doing something to help Will and her. Money was limited, and she wasn't sure if Pops could send any there way for some time, but she knew how to shop on a budget. Plus, soon she would have a chance to show William that she was an excellent cook. She had been practicing for the last century after all. As she walked about looking for the best ingredients, she began to hum a happy tune. William and her were actually talking and communicating, and soon she would have a chance to win him over with her culinary expertise. Just as she was looking at some potatoes, she heard a voice that she immediately recognized.

"The person I'm looking for is a redhead - very red."

Grell turned slowly; pretending she wasn't searching for the source, and was only mildly surprised to see Emily standing there talking to someone nearby. Despite herself, Grell smiled slightly. While it was commendable that Emily had even thought to check the market, she certainly knew nothing about investigating.

The man Emily had been speaking with shook his head and quickly walked away. Emily was visible exasperated as she looked about the crowd, but her eyes didn't so much as pause as she scanned past Grell. Clenching her fists in anger, she turned and stomped down off the street; drawing more attention than she should to herself in the situation, but most only stepped out of her way. Curious, Grell quickly paid for her items as she began to safely follow Emily from a distance. She wanted to know what Emily's next move might be, even though Grell didn't really think of her as a serious threat. She kept a safe distance as she followed Emily, who disappeared around a corner. Grell didn't still wasn't all that concerned when she reached the corner and peeked around, but what she saw actually caused her heart to beat a bit faster.

Emily wasn't alone, and the tall, broad shouldered man she was speaking to at the moment wasn't a stranger to Grell. Despite the warmth of the autumn sun, Grell felt a chill pass over her as she looked at the member of Upper Management she knew as Mr. Robert Collins. He was the same imposing figure as before, and not even the gentle breeze could move a strand of his black, perfectly groomed hair. While Emily wasn't a threat, this man certainly was, and Grell knew that he hated her. When she had been brought in after the Jack the Ripper affair, he had made it no secret he had wanted her imprisoned for all of her eternity. It was as if he couldn't even look in her direction without curling his lips back in disgust.

Slowly, she started to back away from the corner in hopes that her presence would remain unnoticed, but suddenly an unearthly hissing filled her ears. She whirled about to find herself facing a snow white cat with mix-matched eyes. The blue and yellow eyes narrowed as it bared it sharp teeth and hissed again. Like Collins, she had seen this cat before and knew it was Collins familiar, Virgil. The feline was no doubt alerting Collins to her location, so Grell knew she had to get out of here in a hurry.

Creating a portal took time, so Grell took off running and quickly jumped up on a nearby roof. Some of the people might have seen her, but she no longer cared as she knew she had to escape. She didn't want to run straight back to William, however, as they still might be able to follow her. In fact, William was the very reason she didn't stay and fight. While she might have been able to stop Collins with force, she had to consider what as best for William as well. Thinking quickly, she jumped down into the street and hurried into the back entrance of Undertaker's shop. Hoping his subbasement was still a secret, she slipped through the secret opening and closed the door behind her. Hoping the leftover smell of chemicals and embalming agents would mask her own scent, she moved away from the door and waited in the darkness.

Time passed slowly, but then Grell heard the door opening and two sets of footsteps echoing from above. Even the occasional meow reached her ears. "Looks like we lost the freak," Emily growled.

"Sutcliff must have created a portal," Collins replied, "Because Virgil here is hard to trick. At least we know our two troublesome reapers are still in the area."

"Unless they decide to run now," Emily said.

There was a soft, unpleasant laugh. "Those fools will stay nearby" Collins stated, "I'm sure of it, which is good since they have yet to be chipped. Let's head back to streets and continue surveillance."

Grell heard what sounded like them walking out the door once again, but she didn't move right away in case this was simply a trap. As she moved about in the darkness, her foot stuck something heavy and she leaned down to touch the item. It was a book. In fact, she remembered the floor was practically littered with books, and Undertaker had been studying things like demons along with other subjects. Hoping something in the texts could help William, she gathered some of the books along with her groceries before creating a portal to return to her temporary home.

((x))

William had never been comfortable with just sitting around doing nothing. It was part of his nature to keep himself busy and occupied, but now there seemed to be so little that he could do. He was being hunted, and there was still the matter of the demon inside of him. Occasionally, he could even hear it's warped, rumbling laughter, but it seemed to be powerless other than affecting his dreams or the occasional uncharacteristic thought. The collar had it under control, but he still hated the idea that it was alive and living within him. He wanted it gone, and he would turn himself in if there was no other method.

"Will, darling," Grell sang out from the doorway, "I'm back. Mind giving me a hand?"

He quickly followed her voice and saw that she did have quite an armful. As he stepped closer, she handed him several large, thick books. "What are these?" he asked.

"I picked them up at Undertaker's," she answered, "He was doing a lot of research, so I thought there might be some information there about the demon."

"Good idea," he said, as she stepped past him to take the food into the kitchen. Although she was smiling, he couldn't help but notice a certain nervousness to her features and voice. "Did something happen?" he asked as he followed her to the kitchen.

"Why do you ask, love?" Grell questioned as she began to look through the pans until she retrieved a sizable pot. "How does stew sound?" she asked, "It was costly, but I got some nice ingredients."

"That would be fine," he said, "but you didn't answer my question. Did something happen today?"

She hesitated. "I ran into Emily," she said, "She's the recovery agent I told you about from Pop's letter. I didn't think she's a threat, so I followed her to see if she knew anything." Pausing, she began to rinse the vegetables.

"And?" he prompted.

"She wasn't alone," Grell admitted, "I saw her talking to someone from Upper Management, and this guy is dangerous. Do you know Robert Collins?"

"I've never met him," William answered, "although I have heard his name."

"Well, I've met him," she said, "and I'm not precisely one of his favorites." Filling the pot with water, she put in a large stew bone before moving it onto the stove. "He was able to spot me even in disguise, or at least his cat, Virgil, was able to, and they chased me to Undertaker's. I was able to hide in the subbasement though, but I heard him talking." She turned to face William directly, and for the first time, she truly looked scared. "He says he knows we're in the area, and I know this guy won't stop until he finds us. If he finds you, he'll kill you, Will. What should we do?"

He had never seen her look so concerned, and it touched him. "What do you mean?" he asked, "Are you thinking I should turn myself in now?"

"Of course not!" she cried, "but do you think we should go somewhere else. He says he knows we're in the area. Maybe we should move farther away."

"Where would we go?" he asked, but then he sighed softly. "If we start running, we'll only keep running. If you think there's some way to destroy this demon, we should stay in one place and search for a method. I'll put up a shield over the house, and we'll leave if we need to, but for now we'll stay."

"I suppose," Grell agreed, reluctantly, "but you should know one thing. If Collins comes after you, I will kill him. Don't even try to stop me."

With a jerky anger to her movements, she started to chop up vegetables, and William knew there was no use in arguing with her. Leaving her alone to cook, he set up putting a celestial barrier. While it wouldn't do much to keep out other reapers, it would alert them if anyone crossed the barrier and give some extra time for escape. Of course, he wasn't even sure he would try to escape. He would gladly turn himself in to protect Grell.

((x))

Emily sat quietly in darkened room in the dwindling light of the fading sun. The cheap room didn't look as shabby or disheveled in the shadows, but the tattered surroundings suited her state of mind. She held a small picture of Ronald in her trembling hands, and she had to choke back tears as she gently touched his face. In her mind, she could hear his easy laugh and feel the gentle touch of his hand. It was wrong he had been taken away from her so brutally, and she planned to do all she could to punish those responsible.

"We came close to catching, Sutcliff today," Collin said as he walked into the room.

"Close isn't good enough!" she snapped, "Sutcliff and Mr. Spears have to pay for what they've done, and I will make sure they do."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hold on to that rage," he instructed, "It will serve us well. Are you ready for the shot?"

"Of course," she answered simply, as she held up her bared arm.

It was a simple procedure which caused little to no pain, but Emily no longer cared. She welcomed any pain as an old friend that helped her carry on through her days.

"Now, I'll be able to find you wherever you go," Collins said, "This should have been done long ago with all reapers, but I see it was up to me to make sure it will be done now." Still talking to himself, he left the room, but Emily didn't watch him. She continued to look at her picture and silently promise Ronald that she would do what had to be done.

((x))

The fire danced and crackled before them as they listened to the silence of the autumn night. Since going to town, Grell's moods had been rapidly switching. There were times she was unusually quiet, such as she was now, but that would quickly give way to nervous talking and even ranting. William understood for even he didn't feel entirely comfortable sitting here even beneath the barrier, but he had been honest when he had said he didn't want to start running. Their focus had to be on the demon, although he had yet to find any answers in the old books. He only hoped there was an answer to be found.

He looked over at Grell who was sitting on the floor beside him. "That was a very good stew," he said, "I didn't know you could cook."

She laughed. "I learned how for you," she replied, "I wanted to be the perfect wife for you one day."

"Oh," he managed in a nervous tone as he was unsure what to say to that.

"It's good that we've been so honest and talked so much," she said, happily, "I feel like I'm really getting to know you for the first time."

He took a deep breath. 'There is one thing I haven't told you yet."

"What's that?"

"Well, we've been honest with each other, but there's one more story I need to tell you, and I think this is important." He cleared his throat before starting. "It's why not having a son was my regret from life. She sat up suddenly and leaned closer, and he almost smiled at her eagerness. "I had a brother," he began, "His name was Martin, but he died before I was born. My parents didn't even think they'd have another child, but then I was born."

"So you were like a miracle child?" she asked, "Your parents' second chance?"

"In a way," he answered, "but it was more like they wanted their first son back, and I was no replacement." Pausing, he stared at the fire as searching for answers. "Nothing I ever did was good enough," he said, "I was always compared to Martin, and I always came up short. After some time, I quit trying. I knew I would only fail anyway."

"Oh, Will," she said, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, but I do need to tell you this. Time passed, and I became used to being a disappointment to my parents. I took a job in my father's bank, just as Martin had, but then I was pressured to get married. Another family of similar status had a daughter they wanted to be married, and my father thought we would be a good match. I had no real interest in marrying her, but then I realized I could succeed in the one area my brother had failed."

He turned towards her and their faces were almost touching. "My brother had died before he married or had any children, and my father wanted a grandson to carry on the family name. If I could father a son, I wouldn't be a disappointment. I would be the son they always wanted and not my brother. I did love the girl, but we married in a simple ceremony and started life together. After about a year, Mary, that was her name, announced she was expecting. She was far more excited than I was, but I thought things were finally going to work out for me."

"What happened?"

"Mary lost the baby," he answered simply, "It wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened. Of course, she was upset, but I couldn't be there to comfort her. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings of failing once again, and I didn't even see that she needed me. It was a scandal at the time, but she left to go back to her parents. No doubt, they would have talked her into coming back had I given her any time, but I had simply had enough." He had never admitted all this out loud before, and he was shocked by all the emotions he had been holding back all this time. "I realized I would forever be in Martin's shadow. Even if I had fathered a son, I would have still heard how my son wasn't as good as a son my brother might have had if he had lived. I was just tired of it, so I finally decided to escape. Of course, I didn't escape since I wound up here, but at least everyone refers to me as Spears or William rather than Martin's brother." A single tear finally escaped his eye.

Grell gently wiped the tear away. "Your brother could never have been half the man you are," she said confidently.

William managed a smile, but then he noticed the way the firelight danced on her skin, highlighting her features and resting on her lips like a flickering shade of lipstick. They were so close, and he realized they were moving closer by the second. They had talked and revealed their truth selves to one another for the first time. There was nothing between them now.

"Except your need to ravage her," a tiny voice whispered in his head.

William jerked back suddenly at the acidic voice, and he knew it was the demon. It was warping his wants and desires, so it would be unfair to kiss her now no matter how tempting she looked at this moment. "It's late," he said, "We should get some rest."

He turned away quickly, but he couldn't erase the image of hurt and confusion he had clearly seen on her face.