Day 57: Cafeteria

[gald_digger]

Edgar's charming company had raised Anise's spirits enough that not even the Head Doctor's voice could bring them back down. Besides, she was feeling pretty sure that Landel wasn't actually around. To begin with, it wouldn't make sense, and secondly, his announcements sounded suspiciously like ones she'd already heard before. While Anise wasn't

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[unheroed]

The reason that Harvey didn't have a problem speaking with Lana was because he usually came away from their talks with an extra bit of information. She hadn't aimed for the basement, but she was still making something of her time here; she was still uncovering pieces of information, bit by bit. It was a good thing he'd agreed to take her along with him that one night, since now she seemed to trust him enough to share her findings.

Depending on what came of the basement, maybe he could make his way up to the file room one night. He wasn't sure that he would be able to take anyone with him, seeing what his reasons for going were. Not that he had to explain; he could always say he was looking to find something out about a vanished friend.

The real question was if anyone would actually buy that.

It was something he could sort through later, though. Right now his main concern was the basement, though all their preparations were more or less in place. He had already decided he was going to bring both his gun and that axe along. He wasn't the strongest or the most capable when it came to fighting, but at least he would be well-armed.

Right now all he could do was make sure he was eating enough that he'd have energy for the night. That meant forcing the pink gruel down even though he came up with some pretty horrible mental images if he thought too hard on where the stuff might have come from.

At least it was soft enough that he could eat it without too much trouble.

[Free.]

[deadlyjuliet]

Waffles.

If there was one good thing about being stuck with the tasteless pink slop they now served here, it was that Grell no longer had to deal with waffles. After that incident from before, the death god had been thoroughly soured on the breakfast dish and so, it was with some mild relief, that he found they were only accessible to certain members of the public. As long as they stayed out of that annoying brat's hands, Grell wouldn't have to get sedated by stabbing him in the throat with a chair.

The night had been rather useless, but all in all, the god wasn't that upset. A lazy night every so often wasn't so bad. ...even if most of his nights had turned into that. He needed stimulation! Drama! Someone to kill! And luckily enough, Peter's new-found split personality afforded just that.

That, however, wouldn't be until night time, which left Grell with a conundrum that was becoming more and more routine: finding daytime entertainment. Fortune was smiling upon him today though and the god found what would likely turn into a rousing good time in a still grimacing and familiar half-of-a-face. Taking his tray over, Grell stopped across from the no-longer stranger and smiled. "Good morning, Mr. Dent. Might I join you?"

[unheroed]

Of all the people to be joined by...

The past few days had been so busy that he had almost forgotten about Grell Sutcliffe. Or maybe Harvey had just been trying to block out that entire interaction. Grell was a little too far on the weird side of the spectrum, with his sharpened teeth and his pet names and his belief that he was a female. Harvey didn't know how deep that went, if it was something serious or simply a way for Grell to unnerve people, but the latter was definitely being accomplished.

There was no easy way to turn the man away, though, and so after a pause that likely lingered for too long, Harvey nodded to the opposite chair. One thing that stood out about this second meeting was that the last time he'd spoken to Grell he'd still been clueless about how to tackle the basement, whereas now...

Well, now he still might be walking right into a death trap, but he'd unlocked a few doors and solved a few mysteries, and that was something. "So long as it's not a repeat of last time," he said as an afterthought, remembering the food fight that had taken place when he'd met Grell. Not to mention that tear gas. He owed the other man for getting them out of that mess, but he wasn't about to comment on it.

[deadlyjuliet]

Harvey Dent, the all American boy, still with bandages on his face. Were those permanent? Perhaps he was half-mummified, or hiding a deep secret under those wrappings that shouldn't be revealed in the light of day. The American hero might not be such a hero after all. His gruff greeting certainly pointed to that, but rather than turn Grell away, it caused his smile to widen.

"Ooh, now don't go blaming that little fiasco on our meeting, Harvey." Grell set his tray down and slid into the seat, tossing his hair over his shoulder as he did so. The tear gas and the food fight had not been Grell's fault, and as unfortunate as that backdrop had been, the meeting itself had been fateful. Destiny had worked her skillful fingers in bringing the death god and the fallen hero together - and then ripped them cruelly apart! The idea of that as their story made Grell's lips quirk again and he leaned his elbows on the table, propping his chin in his hands.

"Besides, I got you out of it, didn't I? I would say that was a lucky strike on your part."

[unheroed]

In all seriousness, he knew that Grell was right. The redhead had had nothing to do with the fight that had broken out that day. If anything, he'd been just as upset as Harvey about the whole mess, and he'd gotten them out to boot. Instead of acknowledging that right away, though, Harvey decided to take another bite of his so-called meal.

If he licked the paste off of the spoon with his tongue it didn't even have to brush against the tender, burnt parts of his mouth, and then he was able to easily swallow. He also didn't have to fight to get it up a straw like back when he'd been served those protein shakes. In that way, it wasn't so bad, but he would have preferred some more flavor at the least, even if it was artificial.

"I know," he said eventually, glancing over at the man for only a second before breaking eye contact. It was hard to look Grell in the face for some reason. "What have you been doing since then?"

[deadlyjuliet]

Despite what Grell said, it seemed Harvey wasn't going to play along right away. Instead, the other man focused on his meal and--

...

Oh.

The smile drained from Grell's face, replaced with a shy blush. Did Harvey have any idea how that looked? Licking his spoon like that! Such a tease! And in front of a lady! Americans were rumored to be forward, but Grell had never thought they had no regard whatsoever for such things. He highly doubted Harvey had meant to make Grell think such things, but that made it even better. He was so natural! So... So.... Grell slid his eyes away, the smile creeping back as the blush spread across his cheeks. All the men here were such teases, and so very cold. It made Grell miss Will, to be honest, and yet it also made him very happy his supervisor wasn't here. How could a girl divide her attention among all these lovely prospects without losing a single one of them! To lose Will would be the worst, of course, but Sylar? Dexter? And now Harvey? Banish the thou--

"What have you been doing since then?"

The blush vanished as Grell was brought of his fantasy and the god let his eyes flick back to Harvey's face. Even half of a face that handsome was enough. "Oh...you know," he started, lifting his chin from his hands to first steeple and then thread his fingers together girlishly. The smile turned far more pleasant even as Grell went on to say, "I courted a young psychopath and ripped a mutated monster apart with a chainsaw because it cut my hair with its disgusting fingers."

The god paused for effect.

"Or perhaps I've simply been wandering about at night trying to get somewhere and having no manner of luck at all." Grell shrugged and leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs as he picked up his spoon to poke at the unappetizing pink slop he'd been served. "It's so difficult to find good help these days, especially for a young lady."

[unheroed]

Had he said something strange? Harvey didn't recall doing so, but Grell was suddenly acting like that was the case, staring off and almost seeming embarrassed. That was why he had a hard time being around this guy; the way he acted made no sense and he seemed to switch from one way of behaving to another in a split second with no real warning. As someone who prided himself on being able to read people, the fact that Grell was a complete mystery was actually kind of annoying to Harvey.

And it got worse, as the redhead tossed out a response to his question that honestly sounded ridiculous, only to follow it up with a more reasonable option. And there he was, calling himself a lady again. Harvey stared down at his food as if it might somehow explain things to him, but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

His guess, though, was that the second answer had been given in the event that Harvey wasn't willing to accept the first. And honestly, he didn't want to, but if that was the truth then that only added more layers onto this strange man.

At this point, though, Harvey was sick of playing around. It was time to be blunt. "All right, what is it with you?" he asked, ignoring his food for the moment so that he could set this straight. "What's your deal? Acting like you're another species, the sharp teeth, talking about chainsaw massacres and referring to yourself as a female... is it all one big act, or what?"

It was seeming more and more likely that it wasn't, but if that was the case, then Harvey wanted hard facts, not this playing around and hinting. If Grell wasn't willing to give that, then there really wasn't much point in them talking.

[deadlyjuliet]

He'd been tracing a stylized skull into his pink porridge, waiting for Harvey to continue their little talk or throw his hands up in disgust, when the man decided to hunker down and prod at the soul of Grell's mystery. His spoon stopped midway through the second eye socket and Grell lifted his eyes, face blank for a moment.

But at each accusation, the smile came back a little wider. Another species? Check. Sharp teeth? Cosmetic, but check. Chainsaw massacres? Beautifully artistic masterpieces really; check. Being female? Well, duh. But an act? The smile fell and Grell let the spoon slide from his fingers into the bowl. Unfortunately, the viscosity of the liquid meant the plastic simply sat on top like a pathetic white boat amid a blobby sea, but that hardly mattered.

"Harvey....What probing questions you ask," he said, voice smooth and chiding at the same time. And direct to the point. He wanted to know the truth about Grell? Well... Using one hand, Grell pushed the bowl to the side and leaned forward again, smirking at the man across from him. Harvey didn't seem to be the goody-two-shoes type, but it was entirely possible he was the vigilante sort and that could cause quite a stir if Grell admitted too much. So how much was too much? He was about to find out. "You're correct on all counts - especially being female. It's no act, it's how I am."

And getting into that would take far too long. "As for what I am? I doubt you'll believe me - they never do - but I am Death." He leaned back and shrugged. "In a manner of speaking."

[unheroed]

Correct on all counts? Harvey had a hard time listening to someone who supposedly wasn't human with a straight face, but he had seen people in the institute with abilities that made no real sense. Hell, even Peter seemed to have something special about him. It made Harvey wonder where the hell all these people had come from and how he hadn't heard of mutants before.

However, Grell wasn't even claiming to be some sort of superhuman; he was saying that he was beyond that. He was also insisting that he was female when he wasn't -- at least not physically. That indicated a gender identity issue, which Harvey could at least wrap his head around better than the sharp teeth or the inhuman factor.

But then the real bombshell fell. Grell was right about the disbelief part. "Death? How can you be Death?" It was a concept -- no, it was just something that happened. Grell was basically saying that he was the Grim Reaper, which was ridiculous; more than that, Harvey doubted that Death itself could be caught and caged so easily.

If Grell really wanted him to take his words as the truth, then he was going to have to explain himself better than that. Harvey was past the point where he would rather know as little as possible about this stuff, mainly because it was all around him and being shoved in his face. He needed to man up and face what was right in front of him, and right now that was Grell.

[deadlyjuliet]

As expected, Harvey didn't believe him. Humans had a very hard time accepting what was real when it didn't jive with what they perceived as being real, leaving them in a peculiarly strange zone of living with what amounted to burlap sacks over their heads for most of their lives. They were content to look the other way, consider stories to be real so long as they never happened to them directly, and to live their lives in stunningly mundane fashions. Grell never quite understood it, but it did help the truly extraordinary stand out for him when it came time to sever their mortal ties to the earth, so he couldn't quite complain either.

Harvey was having a hard time, as well, and Grell simply smiled at him, watching him as he attempted to wrap his mind around what Grell had just said. The god steepled his fingers before his face, letting the edges of his smile show behind. It was so cute when they tried this hard.

"Well, I'm not the only one of course. I'm one of several death gods assigned to the London area. There are bureaus all over the world, really. Each assigned to a different locale - some more exotic than the others, lucky sods they are." A transfer to Paris? Or the Orient? Or some war-zone? Okay, maybe not that. It would get boring and he'd have to put in some serious overtime which would really dampen his social life. And Will would have to be there of course. No sense in transferring anywhere romantic like Paris if Will wasn't there.

"We watch those slated to die, decide if it is their time, and collect their souls." And it was supposed to be secret. They weren't supposed to be seen or known about except in stories one told to frighten naughty children into behaving or old men into repenting as they teetered on the edge of death. "Sometimes we even have to investigate things when you humans decide to go murdering about on some cranky rampage over a stolen horse or something." Boring. "Or a stolen lover." So much better. "Unfortunately for me, I'm stuck here. It's rather boring and none of you die quite fast enough for my tastes. Are we satisfied by my answer?"

[unheroed]

Oh, but it got better.

According to Grell, it wasn't just one Grim Reaper, but multiple ones that were organized into groups and assigned to certain areas. London -- well, that explained the accent, though that could just be out of an attempt to make the story sound more legitimate. Logistically, it made way more sense for there to be multiple people reaping souls -- the idea of just one entity being able to collect on the deaths of the whole planet was ludicrous.

That didn't meant that any of what Grell was saying was the truth, though.

The idea of the reapers investigating mysterious deaths was interesting, but also a little insulting. As an attorney, that had been Harvey's job, and he sure as hell hadn't had ol' Grimmy helping him out on some of those tougher cases. He was finding most of this to be a pretty tough pill to swallow, and yet here Grell was talking like it was normal.

"If you're some powerful reaper of souls, then how the hell did you get caught?" he asked. It was probably a touchy subject, but he didn't care. It made no sense for such a powerful being to have gotten carted in by a mad doctor with a God complex. He'd like to see how Grell explained that part.

[deadlyjuliet]

Grell wasn't sure if Harvey believed him or not, but the important thing was the other man wasn't leaping across the table to kill him or screaming about the injustice or craziness in Grell's words. Or outright blaspheming and saying that God did not exist and gods weren't real. That was a big tipping point and one that some people here had only recently realized was wholly unhealthy to prod at. As in, the next person to doubt Grell's existence would be summarily stabbed in the eye without prior warning.

Thankfully? Harvey wasn't doing that. He was asking a touchy question, but it wasn't one that Grell was particularly ashamed about. The death god shrugged rather dramatically, raising both hands up before shaking his head and letting out a sigh. "Ah...that? Well, as it happens, I was on probation for breaking a few minor-" Major. "-rules that we as death gods are not supposed to break."

Such as assisting what would become the most infamous serial killer of all time commit her heinous crimes. Grell still felt no remorse over what they did. He didn't have to feel anything. He regretted her loss, but the weight of the crime didn't touch him. Settling back in his chair, he made a show of checking his nails and smiled at the blood red polish still coating them from his manicure the other day. "I suppose they picked me up then. My supervisor shan't be missing me until it is time for my probationary period to be up and so here I am. Stuck with the rest of you lot. Waiting it out."

A smile crossed his lips and Grell gazed out at Harvey over his glasses. "But then I could ask you the same thing, hm? How did you come to be here, Harvey Dent?"

[unheroed]

So the real story came out. Assuming that any of this was true, it seemed that Grell hadn't been all that good at his job, if he'd been put on some sort of probation. The very idea that probation existed for Grim Reapers was odd, and yet it somehow made it more believable to Harvey. It made sense that any organization, even one that dealt in death, would have its rules and regulations.

That still didn't mean that he was buying it, though.

He was curious to know what rule it was that Grell had broken, but that might be moving into the realm of too much information. He found another question to ask soon enough. "And when is your time supposed to be up?" From the way Grell was talking, it was like he expected his boss to just show up eventually to whisk him away. Harvey seriously doubted that was going to happen. They were cut off in this place, completely alone except for the people they decided they could trust here.

Of course, it wasn't long before he was having some questions tossed his way. Harvey sighed, not really wanting to talk about it. Luckily, it wouldn't be that hard to tell the truth while also revealing very little. "All I know is that I was in a car crash" -- one that he'd caused -- "and then next thing I knew, I was here." There wasn't a lie to be found there, but there was so much more that had happened before that which he wasn't interested in sharing.

[deadlyjuliet]

"A month or so." Give or take. Grell had the date of his triumphant return to reaping souls circled in red on his calendar at home, but that had not made it here with him so he really had no clue. The other problem being that it was now winter when it had just been summer for him. And that he had a heartbeat. And a need to breathe. Two very unpleasant things in his book.

He set his chin in one hand and poked at his food with the spoon in the other, drawing lazy hearts in the pink mess. "I've never felt the crawl of time so keenly as now. And yet here I am, bored and living among mortals. It's so unfair."

With a quick jab, Grell stabbed the spoon through the middle of the heart and sighed, letting it go. His eyes roamed back to Harvey and another smile lit his face. "But come now. I've told you all about me. Why not divulge a few of your skeletons as well, Harvey Dent? One doesn't end up looking like that from a simple carriage accident."

[unheroed]

A month wasn't very long at all, which meant that it wouldn't be long before that time had run out and Grell was going to have to face the fact that he wasn't going to be saved all of a sudden. Harvey wondered if he should spell that out for the redhead, but he'd rather just let him figure it out on his own. He wasn't some special snowflake who was going to get rescued while the rest of them were left to rot. No way.

"Right, because what the rest of us are being put through is so much more fair," he remarked, only barely holding back a scoff. He didn't really like this high and mighty, I'm-so-much-better-than-humans attitude that the man had adopted. He could see how controlling death could give you an ego, but it wasn't very attractive, that was for sure.

Nor was the way that Grell was mutilating his food. Harvey decided to focus on his own meal, taking another careful bite of it and then washing it down with some water. He glanced over when Grell tried to probe for more details about him, and figured that he could at least reveal to him what he did to everyone else. "I used to be an attorney before all this happened. The job can be risky." And that was all there was to it, at least as far as Grell was concerned.

[deadlyjuliet]

"At least you lot are used to having a heart beat," he muttered under his breath, eating a spoonful of the tasteless gruel. It was just as disgusting as he remembered from the last time he'd been forced to eat it. Swallowing it was a task in and of itself, leaving Grell with a decidedly moody expression on his face. Rather than eat more, he drew figure-eights into the pink mess, leaning on the table with chin in hand as he considered what else Harvey had to say.

So he'd been an attorney? In an accident. That left him sour and with his face half-covered like a mummy? There was a story there and Grell's fingers itched to rip into Harvey and spill his blood, to force his Record to play and uncover just what sort of things he had done to upset someone so terribly they would leave him looking like that. Or what sort of pub brawl he had instigated. Or whose parent had gone absolutely nutters and come after him in a fit of parental rage over a seemingly just acquittal, or a failed trial.

Attorneys could have such interesting lives if they allowed themselves that luxury.

The smile came back as Grell lost himself to these fantasy lives and he slid his gaze back to the former attorney. "Extremely risky. But as I remember, you're the sort to pry and yet reveal not a thing yourself. Cheeky thing you are, Harvey Dent. Very cheeky. It's a shame you don't trust so easily. I should have liked to play partner to your dramatic life."