Problematic: Chapter 6

William slowly folded his hands in front of his face, elbows resting on the arms of his chair as he rested his forehead on the thumbs of his folded hands. Vaguely, he attempted to remember just how he'd ended up where he did.

After Grell had collapsed, he'd pulled the tie off quickly to help him breathe, only to feel something wet on his hand that had been holding the redhead up by the waist. It had turned out that, during the quicker movements of the fight, Grell had received several wounds from the demons nails and had also accidentally cut himself with the scythe he was using. The rush of adrenaline that the redhead had experienced had numbed him to most of the wounds until directly after the fight, where he had lost too much blood to keep thinking coherently. His black suit jacket had hidden the blood, and what the redhead had thought was a ridiculous amount of sweat was in fact his own blood.

William could only scoff at that; oh how that redhead was an idiot.

The rest of it had happened quickly. Several senior Shinigami had arrived to make sure that the two hadn't been killed due to them having taken longer than they should have done. It hadn't taken them long to figure out what had happened; two of them went to finish off the demon, and Undertaker and another Shinigami had taken Grell to get him to the Academy's clinic.

William had kept his straight face and cold demeanour around the older Shinigami, processing everything but not retaining any information because of exhaustion. His stoicism earned him many surprised looks from the Shinigami instructors who got him back to the academy; they'd assumed he would be distraught or delirious from shock.

Undertaker had taken the recollection of events from William, and had promptly burst out laughing at the end of it. William had held back a scowl, and had taken the advice of the silver-haired Shinigami to rest.

Twelve hours later found him where he currently was, sitting in a chair next to one of the cots in the clinic and sighing every few minutes. Grell's steady breathing was the only other thing that was breaking the silence, and William recoiled emotionally when he looked at the redhead. His usually pale face looked even paler in the dim candlelight of the room, glowing cheeks barren of their red blush, and his red hair only served to make him look even worse when he was dressed in one of the clinic's white gowns. Whereas there was always a piece of red on his outfit, he looked odd without it. Reaching into his pocket, William found the red bow tie that he had pulled from Grell's neck earlier in the day, and tied it around the redhead's wrist.

They were both in deep trouble; Grell was getting a serious warning and punishments for killing the girl instead of waiting for her to die, and for setting a barn on fire. William was in trouble for allowing Grell to do so, and for failing to make sure that the premises was cleared of demons before collecting the girl's soul. Undertaker had hinted that he'd attempt to stop this, since they'd protected themselves and saved a soul from becoming a demon's meal, but most of the elder Shinigami weren't going to have it.

For the first time in his life, William found himself hating the rules; if they hadn't been sent unsupervised, they'd never be in this mess. They'd both played a part in getting rid of the demon, Grell more so than him, and the cinematic record was in the library, safe and sound.

Unfolding his arms, William sat back in the chair and waited for Grell to wake up.


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When Grell awoke, it was because he felt as if he was being moved rather abruptly. Alarmed, he kept his eyes closed, feeling pain spasm around his entire body along with a dull ache in his ribs. Whoever was moving him smelt funny; a mix of burning wood and alcohol, along with a much darker and tainted scent that almost prompted him to wrinkle his nose in distaste. A second set of footsteps followed behind the footsteps of the person moving him, and listening closely he realised that there was a third set of footsteps ahead of him, likely holding his legs up. Grell twitched and took a harsh intake of breath as he was shifted, presumably to turn a corner of whatever hallway they were walking down.

In an attempt to calm his breathing and not let whoever was carrying him know he was awake, Grell concentrated on trying to remember exactly what had happened. There had been the fight with the demon, that much he remembered, but after sending the barn up in flames, everything was hazy. He could vaguely remember feeling sticky around his midriff, which must have been blood, and William catching him as he fell forward. After that, there was nothing.

He spent a while attempting to think of what could have possibly happened since then, and was so preoccupied with this that he didn't realise that he had been set down on his side on what he assumed to be a mattress until he heard a scrape of a door being locked and a familiar heavy sigh.

"You don't have to pretend to be sleeping; it's only me now, Su- Grell." Grell frowned at the quick switching of his surname to his forename, and opened his eyes to be greeted with the familiar sight of his room and his roommate.

"How did you know I was awake?" Grell asked, watching as a tired William moved around the room before sitting on one of the desk chairs. His tie was loose, top few buttons undone and suit jacket open, and Grell could only gape at seeing an untidy William.

"Your breathing pattern changed. Your breathing was the only thing breaking the silence as they moved you." William answered, running a hand through askew hair and frowning when he felt the stuck up ends at the back.

"Move me from where? Outside the barn?" Grell asked, attempting to move and feeling another spasm of pain from the side of his body that wasn't lying on his bed. William shook his head.

"God no. You've been unconscious for three days, under observation in the infirmary and then the clinic. They've moved you here because they think you're well enough to stay here." Something about the way William spoke 'stay here' sent off warning signals inside Grell, and he frowned, sitting up and growling in white-hot pain before focusing.

"Stay here?"

"We've been locked in here for the next week whilst the Academy decides whether or not to expel us permanently from the Shinigami realm." There was an odd tone of bitterness to the normally calm and emotionless man. Grell eyed him warily, alarmed when William calmly passed him a shirt to pull on with an angry look behind his eyes.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" At that, William looked taken aback, and he locked eyes with Grell for the first time since the redhead had woken up.

"No it's... because of both of us. You killed the girl before you were supposed to, and you destroyed the surrounding area with the ensuing blaze. But you killed the demon. I'm under scrutiny because I should have gotten us both out of there the moment I realised what was wrong, I allowed you to set fire to the barn and… I lost the Cinematic record." William scowled as he spoke, an unusual look for his face, and he took his glasses off quickly to clean them and to avoid looking at Grell. The redhead swung his legs over the side of his bed, desperately ignoring the pain in his side as he reached for his glasses that had been placed on the side. Being only recruits, they hadn't completely lost their vision, but he still preferred to feel his glasses perching on his nose.

"Hypocrites! They're giving you trouble because you didn't leave, which would have allowed her soul to be eaten, but they're giving you trouble for letting the Cinematic record burn! They can't put both of them against you, can they?" Grell spoke quickly, as if he were afraid he would be interrupted. William gave a nod, putting his own glasses back on and then shaking his when he realised Grell had sat up.

"Don't overexert yourself, Grell." But the redhead in question scoffed.

"No! They can't do that; if anything, it should be me they punish; I ran headfirst into that fight, when you only distracted, and I set the barn on fire." Grell protested, standing up and then swaying dangerously as another stab of pain shot through him. He gripped the edge of the headboard, noticing William moving towards him quickly and steadying him.

"Sit down."

"No! I need to go complain about this, it's-"

"Just what are you going to do, Grell? You can't walk for too long, else you'll be in agony from the pain of your wounds, and we've been locked in here for the next week whilst they decide what happens to us." William forced Grell to sit back down, the redhead grumbling under his breath in disapproval.

"I just… I don't… Argh! This isn't fair, it's completely- what on earth is this on my hair?" Grell quickly changed the topic, for which William was grateful for, and the redhead pulled at his red tresses in despair. It was the source of the dark, tainted scent he could smell earlier.

"It's demon blood… I tried to get them to wash it for when you woke up, but they wouldn't allow it." Grell gave a whine at this, and William took the brush from the dresser and handed it to him. Grell quickly and harshly dragged the brush through his hair, getting angrier when none of it seemed to disappear.

"It won't go!" Grell spoke impatiently, and William silently shook his head.

"It's going to be difficult to get it all out, Grell." At that, Grell stayed silent for a few minutes, eyes on William but mind miles away as he thought. William could only watch in confusion, wondering what could possibly be going through the redhead's mind.

Finally, Grell cut the silence, taking a deep and shaky breath and focusing on William.

"Get rid of it."

"Pardon? How do you propose I do that?" William asked in confusion, and the redhead pointed to the drawer.

"Get the scissors. Cut it off." Grell spoke shortly, eyes on William and completely serious. William raised a brow.

"You might regret this."

"I don't care. If I get removed from here, I don't want to look at my hair and know the blood of a demon that was the reason for this mess had once been on it." There was a pause.

"How short?"

Grell pointed to his shoulders, where the highest piece of blood was spattered, and William slowly nodded. Removing the scissors from the drawer next to Grell's bed, William sat sideways on the bed next to Grell, and took a piece of the red hair between his fingers. Grell stared ahead, and William was surprised to feel that the hair was as soft as it looked. Raising the scissors, he hovered them over the lock that was in his hand, and watched as Grell inwardly winced.

And then he cut it away, along with the splashes of demonic blood and soot.