thedispatch | (no subject)

(no subject)

[ Graduating from the reaper academy was nothing to brag about. Sure you gained some skills and were granted permission to customize your glasses and scythe, but beyond that, all that was in the newly trained reapers' future was tedious, unavoidable work encased within long nights of depression and regret. Unlike mortal graduations that were followed by celebration, reapers were informed of how they came to be, what was expected of them, should they wish to redeem themselves, and then shown their personal cinematic records. Forced to relive the pain of their mortal lives. To say it's a traumatic experience is a vast understatement.

William stands alone in his newly assigned, permanent flat. It's barely furnished, with just the essentials, no life or personality to be seen. All that's playing through his mind is his record. A horrific thing to rewatch, certainly, but somehow it was made more painful by a fear that had been newly established. He's suddenly feeling sick from the thoughts and has to exit the apartment to collect himself. Glancing up, he sees a brief flicker of bright red at the end of the hall, and before he can stop himself he's following after it. ]

Grell Sutcliffe?

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[ William takes a moment to think on his reply. This conversation has been a long time coming. Perhaps too long. ]

I think that may be the best for both of us.

[ Drawing a slow breath, there's the slightest tremor to it, as she struggles to keep herself together. She's upset, surely, but its the strangest mix of rage and despair-- true heartbreak. Inevitable, yes, but she can't help but fell sorry that she'd asked. There's a knot in her throat, and she might very well throw up. ]

That's all I needed to know.

[ Turning on heel, she may give him a moment, if he should reach out-- but then, she's quick to teleport away! ]

[ It's once she's gone that William lets out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Her response was far tamer that he'd been prepared for. No yelling or slamming of doors. He'd half expected to get slapped across the face for breaking the promise he'd made to her all those years ago. He's not sure if this reaction is better or not.

As the months went by, Will found himself ignored by her, only speaking with her when it was absolutely necessary. Not unexpected, but it was when she suddenly came back into work with a smile on her face that William found himself feeling...well, he wasn't quite certain. An odd mix of relief, sadness and a tad of unfounded jealously that he couldn't understand in the slightest.

It clung to him for literal years, but his pride and depression kept him from approaching Grell to inquire on it. At least until, one afternoon, it dawned on him. All the pieces clicked into place and he quickly flipped through his binder to the current date. He'd noticed an odd file when he'd handed Grell her assigned reapings for the month, but now he saw it. One mortal who's death was noted as undetermined. How he had forgotten to look into it, he wasnt sure, but now he understood without any inquires to management.

Now he stands on a nearby roof top. The woman whose fate was undetermined laying dead upon the ground, soul still not fully reaped. And there was Grell, pleading for a retched demon to spare her. In a split second William's scythe shoots down, blocking the blow that would have taken her from him completely. ]

[ Just when she'd steeled herself for the inevitable, there's a sight that she'd never expected to see. At first, she thinks she be imagining it, but when the darkness fails to claim her, she knows it must be true. And they joy that takes her is too true.

Of course, he doesn't spare her the usual scolding- and she's actually quite surprised that he handles the situation so nonchalantly, and when she's on the verge of losing consciousness, it occurs to her that he must be feeling a sense of validation in seeing her newest relationship fail.

Somehow, she still feels safe - and once he's dragged her back to the reaper realm (rather literally), she reaches to grasp his pantleg in quiet acknowledgment. ]

[ William hasn't brought her to headquarters. Rather she'll find herself face down on the carpet of his living room floorm. He feels that tug to his pant leg, but pays it no mind, for the time being. Instead her hair is released and he reaches up to adjust his glasses and afford himself a moment to think on his words. He'd rushed to find her so quickly that what he'd say once they were back was never thought on. ]

This is so difficult. You must realise that after how long you've known me.

[ As it stands, she can barely speak. It's by pure stubbornness that she's managed to resist blacking out! Why, she even manages to roll onto her side just enough to look up at him - though, she'll curl an arm about her face, because she must look horrendous! ]

...what is...

All of it. This entire existence.

[ Much like how Grell's hiding her swollen eyes and cheeks, William's turned his head enough to keep his own face unreadable. His voice, though always quite monotone, holds the slightest tinge of emotion to it. ]

[ Gingerly feeling her face, she manages to remove her shattered glasses. It's astronomically more difficult than it should be! ]

Have you-- never considered... what I have gone through....

[ He frowns, unsure if he ever truly has. At realising it, he feels the sense of gloom over him darking all the more. ]

I suppose I haven't.

[ With a sigh, she digs her fingers into the carpet beneath her. It might be the only thing that feels real. The pain certainly did, but her body might be in shock right about now. ]

... I didn't mean-- it doesn't matter... someone like me...

[ A monster. ]

[ The words she chooses - or better yet, leaves out - has him turning to her. He doesn't like them or the way her voice sounds when she speaks them. In an uncharacteristically caring fashion, William kneels beside her, hoisting her up to sitting. ]

But it does.

[ His voice shakes slightly. ]

You matter. To me.

[ When he helps her sit, she bows her head with shame, pressing a hand over her hair, atop one of her swollen cheeks-- but when he says something so unexpected, she can't resist glancing up at him. Even if she can't see a damned thing. ]

Even-- with what I've done--

[ Goodness, perhaps they aren't so unalike, after all! ]

Was it not because of how I treated you?

[ looking her over, he's noting how a good portion of those injuries are also from him. What with stomping her face into the ground and dragging her here and all. ]

You look a right mess. Let's tend to that first.

[ A sweet gesture wrapped in a rather dry comment. Still, though she'll heal fast, it's obvious how embarrassed she is with her wounds. He takes her hand to help lift her to walking, bringing her his bathroom. ]

[ Grell follows along with notable strain, limping and swaying. ]

Well-- indirectly, perhaps... Can't blame yourself...

[ making her lean against the bathroom vanity, William fetches some first aid items. He's quiet at first while he wipes her various cuts with alcohol pads and places bandages on the ones still threatening to bleed. Then leaving her to stand there a moment, he goes to his bedroom to find something. Soon she'll have her vision come back into focus as William slides a pair of glasses onto her nose. They're his original ones from school, kept all these years as a "just in case". ]

I'm sorry I broke my promise to you.

[ Hisses and faint groans fall from her lips, and she's resolved to closing her eyes. Even if she could see him, she doesn't fancy the idea of seeing some form of pity in his features.

Knuckles having turned white by keeping herself up, she takes the first chance she can to seat herself atop the seat of the 'loo.

Unsure what he could possibly be putting on her face, she blinks wide when she can actually see! The wonder quickly passes, though-- though he's bandaged over the bridge of her nose, it still smarts!

Taking hold of his wrist, she looks up at him, perhaps even a bit misty-eyed. ]

I really do need you, Will.

[ He nods, now willing to accept that fact. ]

I believed you deserved better than me. Honestly, I still do.

[ With a knit of the brow, she gives a scoff of a laugh. ]

Now isn't the time to begin telling jokes.

[ His expression immediately returns to one she's more familiar with, though at least this time he refrains from smacking her upside the head. ]

I am not joking.

[ Grell wrinkles her nose a touch at him. ]

You ought to be. Can't you tell how ridiculous that sounds?

It is not ridiculous. I am being honest with you.

[ He gives an exasperated huff at not being taken seriously. ]

[ The disbelief still doesn't fade from her features. This is the sort of thing she has always wanted to hear, and now, she's refusing it. Is her mind playing tricks on her?

Perhaps you mean to be, but that--

[ Gesturing with her arm, she quickly regrets it! She's been healing quickly, but not quickly enough! Her teeth clench! ]

Your self-loathing cannot compare, however extraordinary it must be to drive you to such claims.

[ Sighing, William takes Grell's hand to lead her from the bathroom, back to his room. Better to attempt to explain how he feels in a more comfortable space. ]

This woman... [ He tries to recall her name from the file. ] Angelina? What was she to you? How did she make you feel?

[ His hand, encompassing hers, is an incredible comfort, only surpassed by being held in his arms. It does well to dismantly her annoyance. ]

I loved her. It was deeply indulgent, sinful-- and yet, we knew one another far more intimately than either of us ever could have anticipated. Much like best friends, sisters, rivals...

[ Shoulders drooping, her voice takes on an incredibly bitter note. ]

So I thought.

It seems she was able to connect with you on a much deeper level than I can.

[ He sounds sad about that, certainly. But he still takes a seat beside her on his bed. ]