A Girl Reaper? *A Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler Fanfiction*

Chapter Two: Sanctuary

Darcy shifted her weight uneasily from foot to foot, her back against the cold wall of Undertaker's parlor.
She heard laughter coming from the room just inches from her, beyond a closed wooden door that emitted a soft glow. Outside, the sky was painted with deep indigos and purples, signaling that the day had ended and the night was cloaking all of London in it's expansive reach.
Her stomach growled angrily beneath her bandages, and she fiddled with her fingers anxiously with her gaze trained to her toes. Internally, she was having an inner battle with herself; her explosion had led her to a restless sleep, and now it was late in the evening and she'd yet to eat a single thing that day, besides the biscuits and tea Undertaker had given her. The solution was simple; just go into the kitchen, ask Undertaker if he'd be willing to let her use the kitchen and whip something up. However... Darcy was rather embarrassingly ed due to her previous outburst. Her emotions had run high, and instead of putting them in check, she had proceeded to lash out at those only trying to make her life easier.
'I said some very awful things, would a simple apology be enough to warrant forgiveness? I don't believe so...'
Darcy's cheeks were dusted with a light peachy color, debating with herself just what she should do.
'Oh, I'm just so embarrassed!' She thought, placing her hands over her heated cheeks.
As if the universe could hear her inner turmoil, the door before Darcy suddenly swung wide open and the girl let out a humiliating squeak, her spirit momentarily leaving her body.
She came face to face with a familiar copper and midnight haired reaper, and she turned on her heel to start back towards her less than desirable coffin.
"S-Sorry!" She squeaked out, a grip on her arm stopping her before she could pick up any real speed.
"Hold on, love." Ronald's voice rang in her eyes, hand holding a firm grasp on her forearm.
"I was just about to get you. You locked yourself up in that decrepit room all bloody day, you must be famished." He spoke to her with his common cheeky grin, and Milla was slightly taken aback by how casual he appeared.
Why wasn't he angry with her?
Milla's eyes looked everywhere but at Ronald, her face shyly hidden away by her rosy hair; embarrassed to have been found out.
"Um... I am a bit hungry." She confessed, her feee hand come up to rub awkwardly at her neck.
Ronald smiles softly at the clearly flustered girl, her demeanor reminding him of a small child who'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He found it to be awfully endearing.
He couldn't help the hand that came up to pinch at one of her cheeks, puffed out from her small pout.
Darcy tensed under the affection, a gesture as gentle as that quite unfamiliar, and it caused Ronald to frown.
"Sorry... anytime a hand came to my face, it was never for a good reason..." Darcy attempted to explain. She cut her explanation short, shaking her head with a sigh, almost like a physical pain had coursed through her.
Ronald's frown deepened, and he struggled to contain his inner anger at the meekness Darcy had acquired through years of torment.
He shook his head, and forced his carefree grin back to his face. It would do no good to get angry in front of Darcy, he knew that. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to be afraid of him.
"Sorry, I just couldn't help myself! When you pout like that, it reminds me of when you were a little baby. You had the chubbiest cheeks, and you still have the same pout. Makes me get a bit reminiscent!" He laughed, releasing the girl's cheeks.
Darcy seemed unsure of how to respond to the comment, and Ronald briefly panicked at the growing sense that all his presence did was make the girl uncomfortable.
He quickly changed topics. "Well now, lets get you some dinner, alright?"
Ronald left little room for impending argument, using his grip on Darcy's arm to lead her into the kitchen alight with a warm golden glow.
Darcy made a small noise of protest behind him, anxiety flaring in her chest as she realized she was about to come face to face with the very men she was quite honestly too embarrassed to see at the moment.
"-can you believe that? How could he turn down a total catch like myself? I'd show him a thing or two, take that little wealthy aristocratic bum of his for quite the wild ride-"
The pitchy voice that could only belong to one charismatic fiery headed reaper resounded from the dining room.
Ronald rolled his eyes as he and Darcy breezes through the kitchen, coming to the cherry wood table that was just beyond the kitchen nook.
"Language! There are children present!" He called out, Darcy observing as the floor beneath her changed from checkered tile to brassy wood.
"Hi..." She softly spoke up, knowing that the room's occupants were just inches in front of her, the familiar dining table just out of her line of sight.
Anxiety twinged in her core as the room fell silent for one long moment, and she could feel heat begin to rise to her cheeks. Thankfully, the ever enthusiastic Grell wasn't one to be silent.
"Oh, Darcy! Darling! I'm so glad to know you keep your beauty as a top priority as well; us ladies need our beauty sleep! I'd say you're even more stunning now that you're well rested." The reaper winked at the girl, his toothy grin ever present.
Darcy lifted her head, and stared in confusion at the man and Ronald chuckled, patting her shoulder.
"He's a rather confusing fellow, but rest assured; femininity aside, Grell is a man." His hand settled on Darcy's back and gently guided her towards an open seat at the occupied table.
Grell gasped. "Ronald, how dare you! Don't discount my emotions! If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with me..." Grell gave Ronald what Darcy had assumed (through some rather racy books she'd found tucked underneath her aunt's side of the bed) were bedroom eyes, and his gloved fingertips began to walk across the tabletop.
Ronald appeared to be visibly disgusted. "Oh, you wish you bloody fool. Now stop acting perverted around Darcy, we don't need her catching it." 
Darcy shifted uneasily in her seat, eyes never leaving the table before her. A flash of porcelain came into her line of sight, and she blinked in surprise as a plate full of greens, roast, and potato was placed in front of her, the girl's confusion etched in her face as she followed the pale hand that had placed it there.
Undertaker smiled as her eyes met his scarred face, his eyes obscured by his silver bangs.
"Reckon you've built up quite the appetite, coping yourself up all day. Make sure you eat a lot, the nutrition will be important for your recovery." He shot her his toothy grin, and Darcy couldn't help but stare from the plate full of food, to the man seated next to her; eyes shining with a mixture of confusion and wonder.
"Is it really okay for me to?" She questioned, her mouth practically watering at the prospect of of roasted potatoes and fine meat.
Undertaker seemed rather puzzled, and he cocked his head at the girl. "Certainly. Why wouldn't it be?"
Darcy eyes fluttered away from the funeral director, and onto the plate of vibrant colors before her. "I can't say I've ever been treated to food like this before.." She replied sheepishly. "Is it really okay to just give me all of this?"
At that, Undertaker's face contorted into a frown, and he was thankful his bangs covered his bright eyes that shone with silent fury.
He reached forward and brushed a lock of Darcy's hair behind her ear, briefly contemplating just how much Darcy looked like her late mother, her small face peaking out through her long locks.
'The same eyes... and that little nose. Have to say the lips are awfully similar to Mark's though.' His lips curled up affectionately.
"Don't fret, Darcy. Whatever is ours, is yours. It would do you well to just forget all you were taught in your old life, I promise it is all probably rubbish anyways." The man couldn't resist the underlying tone of sarcasm in his voice, the sheer ridiculousness of those "simple humans" was baffling to him.
With his words, Darcy lifted a small hand to grasp at the nearby metal fork, stabbing into the herb encrusted carb filled goodness that was the golden potatoes, and she briskly brought it to her eager lips. Her eyes widened as soon as the spices hit her tongue, and she turned back to Undertaker.
"This is delicious!" She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "This tastes like something that should be in the Queen's cuisine!"
Undertaker chuckled.
"Hmph, I don't believe Queen Victoria is worthy enough to have a taste of William's masterful skills in the kitchen." He flicked a piece of dust that had rolled across the table, almost transferring his distaste for the aristocrat into the motion.
Darcy's eyes scanned the room, finding the quiet reaper hidden slightly in the shadows. He was leaned against the soft beige wallpapered walls, arms crossed and illuminated by the gentle burning of the nearby fireplace. His iridescent eyes were already looking at her, and Darcy stumbled under his intimidating gaze.
"Ah, Thank you for the meal! I didn't take you as one who could cook... not in a rude way!" Darcy became flustered over her words, missing the way William's eyes softened.
"You're welcome. I'm glad that it was to your liking." He answered calmly, his gloved hand coming up to push at his glasses.
Darcy silently devoured the hearty meal, an aura of euphoria glimmering around her as she stuffed her mouth. The four men watched her in silent content, her appetite a good sign that her mood had considerably increased.
As Darcy polished off the roasted bird, William took the opportunity to reach into the breast pocket of his suit, removing something.
He briskly strode to the happily munching girl, sitting across the table from her.
He placed a small, aged picture between the two of them, catching Darcy's attention as she wiped at her mouth. She quirked an eyebrow up at the man.
William silently gestured for her to pick the small rectangle up. Darcy reached over the near polished plate to lift up the photo, a small gasp coming from her lips.
She brought the picture closer to her face, scanning it intently; like a treasure map. Mirth gleamed in her emerald eyes, and she stared at William hopefully.
"Is this..?" She prompted.
William nodded, resting his chin in his hand.
"We did some spring cleaning while you slept. Happened to find an old photo from our academy days." His voice was uncharacteristically soft, an underlying hint of sadness lacing through it. "Us and your parents, in simpler times."
Darcy's mouth was open in silent awe, and she delicately brought shaky fingertips to graze the surface of the photo. What she saw were six friends, eyes glimmering with juvenile delight and grins gracing their young faces. Grell's hair was much shorter than it was now, and he had a charming smirk that was reminiscent of a playboy; it seemed different from the Grell she knew. William seemed to not yet know about the existence of hair gel, his dark locks being rather on the wild side. Even as a teen, Darcy could see through his body language he was just as reserved; however the softness in his face and the slight quirk in his lips portrayed a happy boy. The boy leaning off of Grell was certainly Ronald, his boyish charming seeming to have been with him his entire life. The same large grin, same signature pose, only chubbier cheeks and crazier hair. Undertaker was... actually quite charming. Suave, would be a better word. He stood tally on the inside of Will, his long silver locks tied back and his bangs pinned, green eyes revealed in a gentle smile that made Darcy do a double take.
They all appeared... so happy. So carefree; and so young.
Her eyes wandered hesitantly to the center of the photograph, and she was sure her heart had skipped a beat.
There they were.
The young boy and girl in the center of the group, surrounded by reapers on either side. The boy stood next to Undertaker, causally leaned up against him in a way that established comfortable familiarity. His shimmering green eyes her squinted in a smile, and his tongue poked through his teeth in a goofy grin. Wild blonde locks highlighted with gold framed his boyish face, and Darcy realized that her father was so very handsome, and so popular amongst all of his friends. Her eyes flitted over to the girl who stood directly glued to her father's side, his arm resting around her small waist and her hands bunched into his blazer. Grell has an affectionate hand placed on top of her head, and her expression could only be described as one of pure joy. She was... so beautiful. Darcy blinked through misty eyes as she smiled ever so slightly at the woman she knew was her mother. It was like looking in a mirror; Darcy saw her own face reflected in the photograph. Long rose colored locks, green eyes glittering with gold, a small face adorned with red lips and a button nose. Even their smiles were identical: every crease and crinkle matched the anatomy of Darcy's own face. She finally allowed stray tears to fall.
"Quite the couple, weren't they?" Grell's voice spoke up from her side, he at some point circled around the table to also stare at the photo over Darcy's shoulder.
"We never thought those days would end. All of the lectures, the late nights spent studying in the library, the trips to town we'd take once we sneaked away from class..."
Through her tears, Darcy realized that the demeanor of Grell was quite unlike him; one she didn't believe him capable of. He was so... gentle. Melancholic even, an uncharacteristic sadness emitting from him as he smiled softly down at the picture.
Perhaps she had misjudged the men more than she thought.
She felt the man place one of his big hands on top of her head just like her mother in the photo, giving her bedhead a ruffle.
"You see now why we called you Alice's twin. I also see Mark in you, mainly the personality. Aren't you a lucky young lady? Beautiful with a personality like the sun. I can't believe how much you take after the both of them."
His words made Darcy release a short cry, and she wiped her glassy eyes.
"That's so kind.. I've never..."
Darcy eyes squeezed such, bringing the photograph close to her heart.
"I've never even seen a photograph of them before. It always felt so cruel... if I didn't even get to have the memories you'd think I'd at least be able to see pictures or paintings of them. They're so different from how I always imagined them... they're even more perfect. I thought I'd never ever get to see them, that I'd always be left wondering. I'm so happy..." Darcy's voice broke, and she brought her arm to her face, muffling her cries with it as Grell continued to stroke her head.
"Cruel is a very accurate word to use. Oh Darcy, I hope you understand just how much Alice and Mark loved you.." Grell's voice was just above a pained whisper, and Darcy couldn't resist leaning into the man's strong frame.
Undertaker and William fell into silence, and Ronald could only smile at the display between Grell and Darcy.
He waltzed away from the kitchen where he had been working, a steaming mug of chocolatey goodness in hands as he placed it oh so gently in front of Darcy's hunched over figure, patting her arm.
"It's good to see you crying from happiness, instead of the opposite. Dry your eyes love, pretty girls like you shouldn't be in tears like that." His tone was a playful tease, but not at all ridiculing.
Darcy sniffled, and lifted her eyes when she caught whiff of the sweet aroma before her. Puffy eyes locked onto the mug, the thick chocolate substance dancing in the glass and soothing her stuffed nose. Still holding the picture close to her, she lifted her free hand to grasp at the handle and take an anticipated sip from the hot beverage, how sniffles being soothed as she nursed the sweet drink.
Ronald chuckled as he picked up Darcy's long forgotten plate, placing it onto the counter before taking a spot at the head of the small dining table.
"Mark always used hot chocolate to make me feel better when I was in a mood. Works wonders, doesn't it?"
Darcy nodded from behind the mug, which was very big compared to her head. She wiped away one last stray tear. "I love sweets. They never fail to raise my spirits." She dipped he mug for another short sip.
"Well, looks like I have a fellow sweets connoisseur in my presence!" He laughed, winking at Darcy to lighten the mood.
She smiled, but didn't reply.
Grell had settled with simply standing at Darcy's side, taking to the girl's long strands of hair and putting the smallest of braids in them, humming a simple tune. Undertaker sat at her other side, stirring a hot cup of tea with one of his biscuits and William was ever so stoic in his seat across the table, hands folded in front of him.
Delicately, Undertaker set his cup down, glancing at William as if searching for a sign of approval. A flick of William's eyes was all the man needed to speak up, and he rested his chin in his palm as he stared at the girl, sipping at her hot chocolate like a young child.
"Darcy, we understand that you may have some... reservations about us. I can't say that I blame you." He spoke up, eyes focusing on an sign of her discomfort.
Darcy set her mug down onto the wood, her eyes meeting the bangs of the reaper.
"I... I understand that this is in part from my explosion earlier. I'm very sorry, I'm really embarrassed. I'm just a bit overwhelmed." Darcy confessed, her cheeks reddening as she scratched at the back of her neck.
"It's quite alright Darcy, no apologies are necessary. We know the past twenty four hours have been strenuous. We should've done a better job assimilating you to everything." William was quick to smother her flames of self blame, shaking his head as his arms crossed in front of his chest.
Darcy fiddled anxiously with her fingers. "I lashed out, and it was very rude. All you four have done for me is take care of me since last night, more so than my own family did for an entire fifteen years. I'm very grateful for it, especially since I'm essentially a stranger." She simply couldn't understand how these reapers weren't completely turned away by her childish outburst, feeling Grell tug on her thick locks.
"Oh nonsense. You're far from a stranger love." Grell hummed, tying off a braid he felt particularly proud of.
"Precisely. Not a stranger at all... and hopefully, a familiar face from this day forward." Ronald added in, kicking his feet onto the scuffed up table.
Darcy furrowed her brows. "This day forward?" She cocked her to the side. "What is that supposed to mean?"
William cleared his throat, his posture straightening substantially as a serious crease formed in his forehead.
"Darcy, it would be best to just get straight to the point."
William's hard gaze locked onto hers, and Darcy already felt like she knew what the man was about the say.
"It would be our greatest pleasure to fulfill Mark and Alice's wish. We'd like you to be under our care, if you are alright with that." An uncommon nervousness seemed to settle around William, something the man couldn't say he was used to.
"We'd like to fully accept responsibility as your godfathers."
All eyes in the room fell to the girl, eagerly awaiting an answer. Darcy blinked once, and then twice. A third time. Her heart also skipped about several beats, and her newly treasured photograph floated to the ground; momentarily forgotten in her state of shock. Her tongue seemed to turn to stone, she couldn't even make a noise. Her mind was clouded in a fog and her palms became sweaty.
"U-Um... I..." She almost choked on her own cotton mouth, her breath stuck in her throat.
Ronald's shoulders visibly slumped.
"It's okay, you don't have to worry about letting us down gently. It's understandable, to you we're total strangers. Perhaps it was too hopeful to expect this much." His tone betrayed his happy expression, and Darcy panicked realizing that the reapers were beginning to turn depressed.
"N-No!" She exclaimed. The girl shot up from her seat, the old wooden toppling to the floor beneath her and her palms slamming into the table.
"No! That's not what I meant at all!" She repeated, eyes glistening as she rediscovered her ability to speak.
Darcy immediately reddened once she realized the sudden display had caused the men to look at her with rather shocked expressions. Meekly, she tucked one of Grell's braids behind her ear and her voice softened.
"It's just... are you sure you really want me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Darcy herself wasn't quite sure why she had accepted these men the way she had; why they'd only been acquainted for a measly twenty four hours. Certainly, she was insane. Perhaps just plain stupid.
But...
In those twenty four hours, Darcy felt safe. She felt protected. She felt taken care of. She felt... wanted. Like her company was something to be desired. Darcy didn't have the slightest idea what reapers were, she didn't even know if she could believe who the men claimed they were. She'd always felt a certain draw to the supernatural, but now that all of that was being confirmed to be true straight to her face, she didn't know if she could accept it. However, some indescribable sensation in her gut told her it was okay to take this leap. Perhaps that wasn't a strong defense, but Darcy realized that this was a crossroad in her life that she needed to take the risk for.
There was no way she was going back to that house... never again.
Her eyes fluttered down to the picture that lay face up on the ground. Her parents smiled up at her, surrounded by those they had considered their most precious allies.
'They're the closest thing I'll ever have to my parents... my parents wanted them to raise me. Who am I to deny such a thing?' She thought fondly, her hand settling over her heart.
She felt a wave of ease wash over her, and as she stared at her parent's smiling faces, she knew that she was making the right choice; she knew she had finally found her way back home.
The Undertaker's loud cackling brought her back to reality, and she saw the man struggling to contain his laughter with his long black sleeves.
"I'm sorry Darcy, but you are quite the humorous little girl!" He giggled out. "Why, of course we'd want you! What kind of a twisted joke is that? Why, it might be too put there for even my sense of humor! Aren't you just full of surprises?" He snickered.
Darcy's heart warmed and fluttered.
"Really?" She pressed, her tone hopeful. "Are you serious?"
"As the plague, my love." Came Grell's unhesitant response, inspecting his newly filed nails as he shot Darcy a quick wink.
"Darcy, there's a lot we need to explain to you, and I mean a lot... after tonight, you'll never be able to return to your old life. Are you sure you're alright with that?" Ronald's tone fully let Darcy understand that her decision, no matter what she picked, was crucial.
She found herself enter a deep contemplation.
'My entire life, all I ever wanted was to leave that house...'
Her eyes were drawn to the roaring flames that reached out of the fireplace, almost beckoning her with each fiery flick of crimson and orange.
'There were so many times I prayed I could just pack a bag, and run away in the middle of the night. I was always too scared, I could never take the leap. I... I've just never been brave enough. I've spent my entire life being pathetic, silently wishing someone would just come rescue me; like a princess locked in her tower. So bloody pathetic...'
Darcy's eyes hardened as she glared at the innocent flames. Her hands clasped together in her lap, and squeezed until her knuckles became a screaming white. Familiar images began to flood through her mind; her trips to the market on weekends, sipping tea out on the gondola on a rainy day with a good book. The times she'd bring cookies to Ms. Desmond, somehow managing to squirm in a quick visit and embroidery lesson despite the woman's groans and sighs. The rare, tender moments she'd share with Victoria, when prying eyes were away from them and for just a moment, Victoria would look at Darcy like she was something more than just another mouth to feed; her calloused exterior melting away under the darkness of night. Darcy couldn't deny that she'd grown up with less than extraordinary circumstances, and that she'd had unforgiving moments. However... it was her normal. It was all so familiar to her. Not everyday brought bad things; some days were simple, and Darcy cherished them. She recalled a simpler time, one where Klaus was without addiction and Victoria, while still distant, would surprise Darcy with the occasional lunch in town or stroke to her hair. However... those moments were gone. Buried. Forgotten.
But was Darcy ready to forgo all of it? Was she ready to traverse a path that she hadn't even known existed?
'Sometimes, the path isn't always linear...'
Darcy looked away from the crackling flames, her hands relaxing into her lap.
'I will never have an opportunity like this ever again. I'll be doomed here if I choose to stay.'
"Darcy... we know it's a tough decision. If you need a few days to think about it all, then we can-" Ronald seemed hesitant as he broke into her thoughts, his bright eyes regarding her like she was a cornered animal.
"No." Her voice was the firmest it'd been in quite awhile.
The four men straightened up at her response, and all phosphorescent eyes gleamed into her being.
Darcy lifted her head with a slight smile, eyes sparkling with a melancholic sadness.
"I always thought I was just going to die without ever amounting to anything... and it always really scared me. I didn't have anything; I didn't have people who cared about me, I didn't have friends, I couldn't even go to school. My days were all the same, day in and day out. I read these books about girls my age, traveling off to faraway lands to take on some grand quest, falling in love with some prince or having a witty sidekick as their best friend. I'd always read them, and I'd think 'Could that happen to me? Would it happen to me? I really hope that happens to me...'" Darcy  pondered aloud, cheeks reddening at the confession.
"Now all of the sudden, everything I want is right in front of me. Everything I kept wishing for; it's finally here somehow. I'm tired of being scared, I want to be brave. I'm going to stop running away from everything, how would my parents react if they knew they had a daughter who was so damn afraid of everything? They were renowned reapers... what a disgrace to their memory." The words left a bitter taste in Darcy's mouth, and her face scrunched at the thought.
"I... I don't have the faintest idea what you lot are going on about, with all of this reaper business. For all I know, you could all be escaped from the asylum, and I'm about to make a fatal and rather foolish mistake."
Feeling resolve course through her, and a courage Darcy was certain she had never felt before in her entire life, a smile graced her kind features and she projected it to all of the reapers.
"But I'm ready to take that chance!"
The fire was bursting and popping in its stone home, glimmering brilliantly and filling the room with a warmth and vibrant brightness that engulfed its occupants.
Darcy received several responses all at once, and all she could do was laugh as she was bombarded with wide eyed reapers stumbling over each other.
Grell was shrieking incoherently (which Darcy realized seemed to be a character trait of his), Ronald was jumping up and down like an excited school boy, Undertaker cackled in his typical crackly fashion, and William was asking her about a million questions while trying to quiet down his underlings.
"Settle down, right this instant! You're all going to scare Darcy!" William scolded, glasses holding a dangerous flint and Darcy stared in puzzlement as he whipped out a long metal rod with what seemed to be... clippers? On the end.
"Oh! William! No need to get so violent now, you naughty man!" Grell's words betrayed he distant shine of fear in his neon eyes, and Darcy didn't miss the way he tried to scoot behind her ever so slightly.
William huffed, tucking the mysterious rod to his side. "Then stop acting like a dunce."
William's eyes flickered to the other men. "Pack up. We will leave here promptly."
Grell and Ronald scurried to obey the man, running in all different directions and barking orders to each other. Undertaker chuckled, and patted Darcy on the back.
"What do you say, dearie? Follow me." He quickly ushered her out of the room, steering clear of Ronald and Grell who were carrying... a chainsaw? Some type of metal contraption? Darcy was ever so confused.
She shot a look at William, eyes begging for an explanation.
The man regarded briskly, working around the small room; taking things out of drawers and packing them together, scribbling something down in the small notebook he kept tucked into his jacket, stuffing packets and packets of documents he'd retrieved from Undertaker's personal cabinets and shoving them into folders. His eyes cut to her sharply.
"Listen to Undertaker, Darcy. We'll meet back in the front parlor once everything is ready."
Darcy became flustered at William's curt response, the sudden bustling of the room becoming very loud to her.
"U-Um, what exactly are we doing? What's going on?"
William replied to her, hand never ceasing his accounting of the papers and his eyes quickly filtering in the words.
"We're leaving. On the chance that we would be able to take you into our custody, we've had other lodgings prepared." His words were short, as per usual.
With a slight falter of his hands, he added, "... and this time, they're much more secure than last time."
Darcy remembered the story he'd told her, the story of the house they had believed her parents to be safe in. She was at a lose for words, unsure of how to respond.
"Oh..." Was all she managed, twirling a lone strand of hair rather awkwardly.
William held something out to Darcy, his other hand occupied with writing down a note she couldn't quite decipher.
"Hold on to this, don't lose it. Once things are settled, I can show you more that will be to your liking."
Darcy reaches out to take what he held, and she giggled once she saw what it was.
"Ah, right. Sorry, I forgot to pick it back up. I promise I won't lose it, I'll buy a frame for it as soon as I have the time." Her eyes were greeted with the picture that housed the four younger reapers, and her parents. "Show me more? You mean there's more?" She couldn't quite keep the excitement from her voice.
"Oh, more than we can count dearie. You'll see all of them soon, we promise." Undertaker's voice came from her side. "The sooner we are out of here, the sooner we can show you everything."
William nodded. "Right. Move along now, Darcy."
William shooed the girl out of the room, the floorboards creaking beneath Darcy's bare feet as she treaded lightly down the dark hallway with the guidance of Undertaker.
The man snickered. "Don't mind him Darcy, believe me he is practically bursting with happiness that you agreed to come with us." He hummed, maneuvering the dim hallway like it was second nature to him.
Darcy quirked an eyebrow, her hand skimming along the cold parlor walls. "If that was him bursting with happiness, I'd certainly hate to see him seething with fury." She scoffed to herself, cursing quietly as her toe collided with what she believe to be small table.
Undertaker laughed, "Very funny, my dear! You're right, you wouldn't want to see that. Rest assured however, William will probably never get angry with you." His hands shot out to quickly steer her away from an impending collision with a rickety bookshelf, and Darcy grinned sheepishly.
The two continued down the hall, until Undertaker stopped her in front of a wooden door in the left wall, reaching over to open it and guiding the girl inside.
"It's dark, stand still while I light some candles." He instructed, and Darcy complied. She kept a hand on the door knob, the only apparent sounds being her own breathing and soft swipes as the man set about to set the candles aflame. Slowly, Darcy's field of vision began to brighten, one by one lone candles began to glow with a soft orange hue. The candles, being a considerably hefty size, did well to light up the dark room. Darcy's eyes strained to adjust to the shift in lighting, and she eventually was able to make out the cold feel of tile on her feet. They were in a bathroom, she'd realized. Directly in front of her was a large vanity mirror, a sink located directly underneath it. Through the mirror, her and Undertaker's reaction stared back at her, and she watch as the man tactfully loosened the braids that Grell had tied up in her hair.
Undertaker took a brush that lay discarded on the sink's edge, one Darcy assumed Undertaker used to tame his own long locks, and gently began to brush the tangles out of her thick hair.
"You've had a rather eventful day. Relax in the bath, and then come back out to the parlor once you're ready." Undertaker spoke, the brush's teeth clipping on a particularly tight knot.
Once Darcy's hair was smooth enough for the man to comb his fingers through it, he maneuvered around Darcy and over to a small porcelain tub that lay beneath a dark window, notifying Darcy that it was well into the night now. The sound of running water drew her eyes to where Undertaker leaned over the tub, a soft steam beginning to emit from the water. Once the water temperature had reached his approval, the man wiped his wet hand on his dark robes and leaned down to open a nearby cabinet.
"Your nightgown was torn and bloody, so I just went ahead and disposed of it." He told her, standing back up to his full height with newly acquired towels. He kicked the cabinet doors closed with one of his booted feet and turned around to set the plush fabric on the toilet lid.
"However, this was also on your person."
Undertaker's hand slowly released a necklace and let it dangle freely. It was a simple gold chain, and from the chain a dainty flower composed of small rubies and a simple pearl hung proudly in its center.
Darcy's eyes widened, and her hand immediately shot to her neck. "Oh my goodness... I can't believe I didn't even notice it was gone." She breathed, horrified with herself. Darcy quickly strode forward and Undertaker trickled the necklace down into her waiting palm.
"It's my mother's. The only thing I have, Victoria had been kind enough to give it to me when I'd turned eleven." She explained, inspecting the cluster of rubies that shone brilliantly by the candlelight.
Undertaker nodded. "I know. Mark had given that to her when they'd first started dating back in the academy, the ruby was his birth stone, and your mother's was the pearl. Mark saved up for four entire months to have this handcrafted for her, a ruby and pearl combo is rather unheard of." The Undertaker took on a reminiscent tone. "It's like you have a little bit of both of them with you. You're there own little combination; a ruby and a pearl." His voice was unusually soft.
Darcy's chest warmed at the sentiment. "I guess I am, huh?"
Darcy smiled, eyes still on the necklace.
'Father.. you truly loved mother, didn't you?'
Her eyes wandered to the photograph in her other hand, smiling faces gleaming in the dimly lit room. Her father's handsome face by Undertaker's own caught her eye, and hesitantly she spoke up.
"Undertaker.. you seemed to have been exceptionally close to my father." She notes aloud, cautiously observing the man's reaction. Undertaker stiffened, and his lips that were always upturned briefly became a frown. Darcy quickly backtracked.
"I'm sorry, that was insensitive." Her shoulders sank considerably, fearing she'd completely turned the reaper away from ever talking about the man who'd helped bring her into this world. "I understand it must have be difficult to constantly have to recall your memories with the both of them today. I should've known better than to push it." 
Darcy set the picture and necklace down on the surface of the towel cabinet, as well as the lose dress shirt she'd thrown on to cover up her bandages. As she went to step around Undertaker, he stopped her very gently.
"Sorry. You didn't do anything wrong, Darcy. Recalling all of these memories doesn't make me sad; it's just an odd melancholic feeling. None of us have quite been able to heal, since that night.." Undertaker's phosphorescent eyes peaked at Darcy's through his bangs, and the girl was stunned to have finally seen them in person. He smiled gently. "But, having you back with us... I think we'll all finally be able to stop hanging onto the past."
He patted her head, and Darcy blushed at the sweet words.
"You're correct. Mark and I were best friends, in a sense. Us and William were exceptionally close, as was your mother with Ronald and Grell." As Undertaker spoke, Darcy remembered the picture.
'It did seem to be that way.'
"I was the first to graduate, then William and Mark soon followed. Alice and Grell graduated together, and Ronald graduated last. We were two separate groups before your parents met, and once they did, we somehow became our own little tight knit unit. It was like a family, really." Darcy's heart swelled as he spoke, a blurry past she'd always dreamed of hearing slowly beginning to form in her head.
"Can you tell me more about the academy days? What even was the academy? How did my mother and father meet?" Darcy was practically bursting at her seams with unconfined excitement, her eyes big and sparkling.
Undertaker chuckled, and patted her head once more. "Once everything has been settled, I promise we will all explain everything to you. I will tell you all of the stories you wish." Undertaker eyed the girl's bandages.
"Wash yourself up, and then come back outside. I'll have someone leave a fresh pair of clothes outside. Your wound should be closed for the most part, but be careful. I'll apply ointment to it and wrap it back up once you're done." He smiled at the girl.
"I hope you're happy with your decision, Darcy. We certainly are."
The girl blinked up at him, and she nodded her head enthusiastically. "I... I do believe I am. I'm not too sure about this whole reaper business, but I have a feeling that I've made the right choice." Her eyes shot over to the photo.
Undertaker's lips turned up ever so slightly. "As I said before, we will explain everything to you. But first, I do believe you have a very relaxing bath waiting for you."
With one more ruffle of her locks, Undertaker set off towards the door, boots clicking along the icy tile. Darcy stared at his retreating back,   a sudden urge overtaking her.
"U-Undertaker!" She called out.
This side of the man was so unlike him. Given, Darcy had only known the man for a day, however in that one day she'd seen a man who was kooky and manic beyond normal human comprehension. But the man she was seeing now... Darcy knew this must've been a side he kept hidden; she knew that all of the jokes and the laughter masked something much more dark... and lonely.
The man stopped in his tracks, glancing at the girl over his shoulder with his vibrant eyes still visible.
"Yes?" Came his waiting reply.
Darcy's hands clenched and unclenched, and she shifted in her heels. Her mouth was dry, but she somehow managed to get her feelings out. "Um, thank you!" She exclaimed, bowing her head. Darcy stared down at her toes, hearing the man give her a hum of amusement.
"You're welcome, Darcy." His gravely voice croaked. The click of the door prompted Darcy to raise her head, listening to the man's footsteps trek down the hallway behind the closed door. Sighing, Darcy set about to carefully discarded the bandages wrapped around her torso and breasts. She winced as the sticky residue pulled at her skin, an angry red welt greeting her as she finally peeled and discarded the bandages. Delicately, her fingers danced across the top of her marred and puffy flesh. The wound was only about two inches in length, and rather skinny thanks to Undertaker's masterful suturing. It was just on the left side of her stomach, right below her breast. Darcy stared at her reflection in the mirror, eyes landing to the red scar. She couldn't help the slight twinge of self consciousness that shot through her, finding the scar to be... ugly.
'No use fretting about it.' She shrugged, shaking her head and suppressing the negative feeling. 'It's just a scar.' She reminded herself.
Darcy quickly shed the loose cotton pants she wore, along with her undergarments. The chilly night air nipped greedily at her skin, and she shivered as she tip toed her way to the heated water, slowly lowering herself in.
Darcy practically purred in delight as she sunk into the steaming water, a sigh escaping her lips as she sank up to her neck. The day had been more taxing then she'd realized, her tense muscles relaxing completely and exhaustion hit her like a horse. She quickly set to cleaning herself, slipping her head underneath the water and massaging it with a pleasantly smelling vanilla shampoo that rested along the window sill. A faint fragrance of peppermint hit her nose, and she figured Undertaker must've dropped in some oil to the bath water. She smiled at the gesture, feeling her body relax even more as the cool mint surrounded her.
'This feels so wonderful... certainly if they had ill intentions, I wouldn't be treated so kindly.' Darcy's thoughts were loud in her mind as she settled back in the water and rested her head on the tub's rim.
She listened quietly to the commotion coming from the surrounding rooms, hearing distant voices and shouts followed by hurried scurrying.
'I wonder where we're all going to go, out of London perhaps? Out of England?'
Darcy ran a bar of soap along her pale skin.
'Wherever it is, I only hope that everyone is happy. I'd hate to know that I've caused everyone an inconvenience. Are we really just up and relocating?'
Darcy's stomach was a clenched mix of anxiety and excitement. She'd never done anything like this before. The life she was living just yesterday felt so distant and so unfamiliar. In just one day, she'd left that wretched house, met her godfathers, finally was able to see and hear people talk about the enigma that was her parents... her heart fluttered. It all only proved to Darcy that truly, life was an unpredictable intersection and crossroads of paths; some dark and lined with dirt while others were brightly lit cobblestone strolls.
Darcy stared up at the dark ceiling, and she smiled.
'Father, mother... is this all your doing? Are you happy with my decision? Oh, I hope you're happy..' A dreamy look flashed on Darcy's contented face, and she sank lower into the warm water until it was just below her nose, pink hair floating around her. Her eyes closed as she simply floated in the tub, white noise ringing in her ears. Her muscles fully alleviated and Darcy was sure she was entering into a different world as she completely unwound. She could feel herself begin to nod off, unable to fight the sleepiness that coursed through her. As if on cue (and by some divine curse), a pounding on the door startled Darcy out of her stupor, her head shooting wildly to where the noise was coming from and her limbs involuntarily splashing small pools of water out of the tub.
"Darcy! You decent?" Ronald's voice echoed from outside the doctor.
"Um... just a moment!" Darcy hurriedly climbed out of the tub, catching herself on the edge as she slipped on the watery tile. Her knee collided with the towel cabinet, and she hissed in pain.
"What was that?! Are you okay?!" Darcy heard the doorknob begin to turn, and she quickly shot up from her pained position. She rushed forward and slammed her body weight against the door, hearing Ronald stumble back from the force.
"D-Don't come in here! I'm fine!" She called out with red cheeks, wet hair sticking to her face and back.
"Are you sure?? I can go get Undertaker if you need him, did you hurt yourself?!" Ronald yelled, voice frantic.
'Does he not understand that I'm naked?!' Darcy thought in annoyance. "No! No don't get him! I'm fine! Now what do you want?!" The words came out much harsher than she intended, however she found herself not caring as her naked body was starting to grow very cold in the exposed chilly air.
"Ah, right right. I have some clothes for you to wear, should I just leave them out here?" He asked.
"Yes! Just leave them outside!" Darcy groaned out, skin covered in goosebumps. "I'll come out when I'm done! Just go back to the others!"
She heard the shuffling of fabric of what she assumed was Ronald setting the close down onto the floor. "Okay, yell if you need anything, alright?"
Hearing his concerned voice, Darcy felt guilty for her snapping. She sighed, "Okay, I will. Thank you Ronald."
When the man's footsteps sounded like they were far enough away from the door, Darcy quickly turned the knob. Her arm shot out into the darkness like lightning, grasping onto the soft fabric before pulling it inside and shutting the door with a soft "click!"
Darcy gently set the clothes onto the lid of the toilet seat, exchanging them for a towel. One towel wrapped around her body, while the other one was dropped onto the tile; vehemently drying it. Once he floor no longer posed a safety hazard, Darcy strode back up to the large bathroom mirror, grabbing Undertaker's brush and setting to smooth out her frizzing locks. Darcy hummed a familiar tune as her hair straightened up the brush, heavy with water. She carefully combed her nimble fingers through, satisfied when no tangles caught her nails. She set the brush down and reached for a bottle of what she hoped was lotion, pumping it into her hands before dropping her towel and rubbing it into her dry skin. It didn't really hold a fragrance, but Darcy did catch notes of vanilla; just like the reaper's shampoo. It was simple, just like him.
Now fully dried, moisturized, and her hair a damp texture, Darcy turned to where the clothes were folded on the porcelain seat. Gingerly, she bent down and picked up a piece of long white fabric, eyes widening once she realized what it was. "Oh... this must have been at least one hundred pounds!" She exclaimed, examining the dress excitedly. It was beautiful, something Darcy had seen the ladies of the town wearing when they were having tea with friends, or at a casual picnic. "Can I really wear this?" Darcy whispered. She hurriedly threw on the fresh undergarments that came with the bundles of clothes, throwing the loosely flowing dress on top. Darcy quickly ran to the mirror, examining herself with a large grin. It was a simple white dress, made of cotton and lace. It was fitted in the bodice and waist, and light and airy in the skirt. The puffed sleeves reached her elbow, the bodice framed her chest in a square neckline, and the delicate lace that overlaid cotton reached just to her pale ankles.
Darcy ran her hands over the dress; it fit magnificently. She twirled in front of the mirror, and giggled giddily; she felt like a princess in such attire! Darcy wondered if this is what it was like to be a free spirited teenage girl, being able to wear all the pretty dresses they could ever want, always looking like something out a storybook. This sensation was so new to Darcy, she could describe it as genuine happiness. She felt so pretty, almost not being able to recognize the reflection that stared back at her.
Darcy gave herself one last smile in the mirror, smoothing the dress softly with her hands. It took all her willpower to tear her eyes away from the mirror, turning her attention the remaining clothing pieces. She slipped on a pair of knee length, knit white stockings, appreciating the instant warmth they brought her. Next was a pair of simple but feminine calf height brown boots. Darcy's fingers traced the floral design near the ankles. She put them on, surprised that they actually fit like a charm.
'This outfit is SO cute...' She thought with warm cheeks, her happy grin never leaving her face. Finally, a neutral cream cardigan was all that was left. Darcy threw the soft sweater over the dress, the light brown complimenting the white. Darcy rushed to the mirror once more, covering her heated cheeks as she stared in the mirror at the finished look. 'I can't believe they'd spend this much on me, this had to have been expensive...' Darcy thought in pure awe, doe eyed as she took in her feminine appearance. Darcy felt like she could cry; this was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. She'd never worn anything this pretty before, she couldn't believe it was actually hers to have.
With a pounding heart, Darcy drained the tub and cleaned up her mess. She swiftly grabbed her photograph and necklace, blowing the candles out behind her as she began her journey down the dark hallway.
Her boots padded softly on the wooden floors and she felt her pulse quicken as she grew closer and closer towards the voices.
'Will I look strange?' She worried.
The welcoming light of the front of Undertaker's shop was just in front of her. Darcy stopped in her tracks, holding the photograph and necklace close to her heart. With a deep breath, and nod of her head, she entered into the light.
Grell, Undertaker and Ronald were all gathered in the front of the morgue, however William was absent. The three were conversing amongst themselves, only looking up once Darcy's timid steps reached them. Her doe eyes sparkled up at them, and she bowed her head in deep gratitude. "Thank you so much for the clothes! This is too kind of a gesture, I'm sure it cost you all a lot of money." Grell squealed with feminine delight, lunging forward and wrapping his arms tightly around the teen.
"Oh my, I have the most beautiful daughter in all of London! Oh Darcy, you are so lovely!" Grell excitedly spun the girl around, soaking in her appearance. "Is everything to your liking? Does it all fit well?" He asked, inspecting her closely.
Darcy nodded eagerly. "Yes! I love all of it. It fits like a glove." She smiled, giggling as Grell twirled her around his gloved hand.
"Wonderful. I picked all of this myself, you know. If we left those three fools in charge of your wardrobe, you'd be a hot mess my dear." He whispered in her ear, causing Darcy to laugh.
"Look at you! You look great, Darcy!" Ronald grinned brightly at her, leaning against one of Undertaker's coffins.
Undertaker chuckled from his seated position, munching a bit too happily on one of his mysterious biscuits. "A true beauty." He hummed, already back to his kooky self.
Darcy smiled, nodding her thanks to the both of them. Grell tugged on her arm, eagerly sitting her down in a nearby stool and standing behind her. Darcy felt the teeth of a fine comb begin to scratch along her scalp, and she realized the man was beginning to tie her hair up. "Just need to put in the finishing touches. Remember, it's the small things that make the look darling." She didn't need to see the red head to know he was smiling.
Darcy was compliant, allowing the man to brush her hair up into one long and thick ponytail. Ronald and Undertaker observed in quite contentment, Grell humming a happy tune as his fingers worked diligently.
"Give me your necklace, Darcy." He called softly from behind her.
"Ah, right." Darcy obeyed, holding the necklace out for the reaper to take. Grell delicately picked up the glimmering necklace, gently looping it around the girl's neck. It hung just below her neck, and the chain was cool against Darcy's skin. She felt Grell tie something up in her hair, and the man gasped.
"Oh love! I just knew red would be your color!" He cooed, ripping Darcy up from her seat (rather roughly in her opinion, she was a teen girl not a rag doll!) and turning her to face the other two reapers.
"Boys, look at our little girl! Is she not the most beautiful flower you've ever seen?!" Grell's cheek smashed into her own, and Darcy giggled as fiery red hair tickled her face.
Ronald inspected Darcy with a finger on his chin. He nodded with satisfaction, grinning brilliantly. "Why, of course she is! What a silly question." He smiled. Undertaker giggled his usual tune, regarding Darcy as he munched on another one of his biscuits. "Naturally. Are you trying to be funny Grell? What a silly question."
Darcy's looked to her feet at the looping compliments, not sure how to react to the foreign concept. Had anyone in her life ever been so kind to her? Had anyone in her life ever even called her beautiful? They did it so effortlessly as well, like it was second nature; like they didn't even need to think about it. Darcy's heart felt warm and full, and she blinked away the mist in her eyes.
"Hold your head up, darling." Grell's voice was close to her ear. "Come on now. How are you supposed to see how pretty you are?" Darcy felt Grell shift something in front of her and she slowly looked up. It was a handheld mirror, silver with accents of red laced into it, obviously a part of Grell's personal inventory. She looked at her reflection, and she blinked in surprise. The red gemstone's of her necklace directly complimented the red bow that Grell had tied up in her hair, a thick ponytail trailing behind it. Her baby hairs and wispy bangs framed her face, and Darcy couldn't help but think she looked "so cute". Grell peeked at her from over her shoulder, their eyes meeting in the mirror.
"Are you happy?" He asked her.
Darcy smiled at him, and gave him a simple nod of her head. "Thank you, Grell."
A look of satisfaction crossed the man's face, and hugged Darcy tightly, practically swinging her off of the ground. "Oh, I always dreamed of this! Be able to doll you up, and pick you clothes out for you... it makes me so happy..."
Darcy was startled to see that the flamboyant reaper had begun to cry; not his usual loud and dramatic weeps, but a genuine cry with slow tears streaking his cheeks. He brought Darcy close to his chest, holding her head there. Darcy didn't know what else to do than to ball her hands up in the man's red coat. She didn't know this side of the moxie filled man existed.
"You probably don't remember, but when you were a baby, I would always dress you. Alice hated it; she would accuse me of trying to steal you away from her." He chuckled. "But I know she was secretly happy. I dressed you up for your christening, for your birthday, for the holidays... I was always so excited for the future. I couldn't wait to help you get ready for your academy balls, for all of your birthdays and celebrations, for your wedding..."
Darcy remained silent as Grell quietly sobbed. The man buried his face into the girl's hair, and she felt him slowly begin to rock them. Grell breathed in her scent, and Darcy felt her hair begin to damp as his tears streamed into it. "I was so certain I'd lost all of that... I was so devastated. You weren't even mine to lose, but I wanted to be the one to watch you grow up. I was so certain I'd never be be complete when we had to leave you with your aunt..." Grell sniffled, and Darcy blinked away her own tears.
'Grell...' She thought, breathing in the reaper's light floral fragrance as she rested her cheek against his vest.
"But now, here you are! You came back to us!" Grell's arms tightened around her, and Darcy could feel the smile that was pressed against her hair. "I'm so happy..." The reaper breathed. 
Darcy wondered if this was what it was like to have a father hug his daughter, and she snuggled into the warmth and protection that the man provided.
"Me too.." Darcy's voice was barely above a whisper but she knew that Grell had heard her. Her eyes wandered over to where Ronald stood, and she saw the reaper wiping vehemently at his eyes, glasses in his hand. The young man turned away to hide his face from the room's occupants, but Darcy was sure she saw his shoulders shake ever so slightly. Her eyes trailed back to the red coat she grasped, and she whispered.
"Can you tell me why you all had to give me up? Why I couldn't grow up with the reapers?" She whispered, swallowing down her meekness.
Grell nodded, and she felt a hand stroke her hair. "Yes. As soon as we're out of here and settled in, we will tell you everything. Anything you want to know." The sincerity in his voice was all Darcy needed to know that he was being truthful, and she smiled as a stray tear bubbled over her eye.
'I'm sure this is what it feels like to be loved.' Darcy's eyes shut against Grell's strong chest.
'I know I've made the right choice.' Rang inside of Darcy's head.
The two of them stayed like that for a few moments longer, separating once Darcy had felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"William should be wrapping up, let's go outside. Do you need your bandages, Darcy?" It was Undertaker, and Darcy shook her head against Grell.
"If you could do it before I go to bed, that'd be wonderful. Just let me wear this a little longer..." She breathed, sleepy in Grell's embrace.  Undertaker chuckled, and she felt him ruffle her hair. "Very well."
Darcy felt Grell give her one last squeeze before releasing her. She stumbled as she was finally released from Grell's hold, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. In her eyesight's blurriness, she could faintly make out the tall and lean form of William approaching them.
"Everything is packed, and the car is running. Let's leave with haste." His ever calculated voice cut into the thick atmosphere.
The men shuffled around her, and as Darcy went to trail after them, William caught her by her shoulder. Darcy stared at the man's gloved hand, then trailed her eyes up to where his eyes stared down at her. She quirked an eyebrow up at him.
William stared at her for a moment longer, then finally let his hand fall from her shoulder. He turned to fully face her.
"Darcy, I'll ask one more time; are you sure?" Darcy didn't need him to elaborate to know what his question was referring to. She smiled up at the grim man.
"Positive." She replied, little to no hesitation in her voice this time.
Darcy figured that would be the end of their conversation, however William continued to hold her gaze. She could see the conflicting on in his eyes, regarding it carefully. "Is there anything else?" She pressed, the two of them being the only one's left inside of the parlor.
William seemed uncharacteristically tense; almost unsure. His greens eyes hardened and his brow furrowed.
"It's just... I..." William sighed out of frustration, unable to properly form his words.  Darcy waited patiently, a crisp breeze from the open door chilling her skin. William took a moment to collect himself, huffing as his gloved hands clenched and unclenched into fists. His gaze teetered away from her, glaring holes into the poor floorboards.
The man whipped his head back to Darcy, and he sighed out with closed eyes. They slowly reopened, meeting with the girl's. "I just need you to know, to understand that.." The crease between William's eyebrows deepened. "That I, well, we never wanted to give you up. We wanted to keep you more than anything. Please dispel any thoughts you may have that you were unwanted, I can assure you that they are completely false." William's face was practically screaming with a silent pain, and he released another huff of frustration. He just didn't know how to properly word it...
Darcy was taken aback by the sudden declaration, her eyes visibly widening. She took in the reaper's troubled features, and she delicately placed her fingers on one of his clenched fists. William jumped slightly under the girl's touch, and she smiled up at him.
"It's okay. I know that. All that matters is that you're here, and we're all together now." Darcy said softly. Her smile made William's face soften substantially, and he gazed down at the small hand that held his own.
Such a small gesture, and yet it brought the man so much warmth. He could feel the storm inside of him, cultivated from years of regret, finally begin to break. Hesitantly, he turned his palm over, giving Darcy's hand a quick squeeze. Just as suddenly, he released her hand, letting it fall softly to her side.
"Thank you, Darcy. That eases me more than you realize." He breathed. William pushed the bridge of his glasses up, beckoning Darcy through the door. Darcy was quick to comply, only making it two steps out he door before he man stopped her again.
"Darcy." He called out quickly, almost like her name was out of his mouth before he could debate it. The teen stopped mid-step, looking at the man over her shoulder. "Yes?" She responded in hidden amusement.
William eyes examined her. He pushed past her to get outside, and very quietly said, "The bow is a nice touch."
Darcy stood frozen as she watched the man's retreating back, mouth agape. Had she heard him correctly? William actually complimented someone?
"Darcy! Hurry up and get it!" She heard Ronald call at her from their spot on the street, and she quickly shook herself out of her stupor. She grinned, shutting the door to Undertaker's shop as she took off into a sprint. She raced up to where William stood in front of a sleek black car, regarding the trunk that appeared to be stuffed to the brim with whatever the reapers had packed with them. William opened up the door to the driver's side, slinking in smoothly. Through the open door's visibility, she could make out Undertaker in the passenger's seat.
"Get in, Darcy." William instructed through the open window, the engine coming to life with a flick of the keys.
Darcy obeyed, opening the door that led to the back of the car eagerly. She was greeted by the sleeping figure of Grell, and a tired but happy Ronald, the awake one helping her maneuver over Grell's unconscious form and sitting her down in the middle.
William's eyes shot to her in the rear view mirror. "Ready?" He asked her, hands gripped onto the steering wheel.
Darcy snuggled into her spot between Ronald and Grell, content. "Ready." She responded.
With an excited giggle from Undertaker, William peeled away from the curb, and soon the car was speeding away into the cloak of the night. Darcy eyes wandered out to the window, shops and lit street lamps passing by them. The girl felt a mixture of sadness, but also excitement; she was leaving everything behind to pursue brighter days.
She breathed in the crisp night air that filtered in through William's open window, savoring the lingering scents of floral carts and bakery breads. Her destination was unclear, like a boat in the middle of a foggy sea, or a lone traveler in the middle of a storm. Yet, Darcy just knew that she was on the right path, blindly trusting whatever fate was throwing her way. She had finally found her own sanctuary; a place where she knew she could always find shelter in, and comfort. She smiled softly, settling the photograph of the reapers into her lap. The stars danced across London like ballroom dancers, calling to Darcy with their twinkling mirth. The streets were dark and desolate due to the late night hours, but Darcy wasn't scared.
She was happy. She was content. She was safe. For the first time in her life, Darcy felt in control, a sensation that told her no matter what foggy sea she would end up in, or whatever storm came her way that she was I charge of her life, and fate.
What an exhilarating feeling.
With her body warm and relaxed against the car's plush seats, Darcy couldn't help but begin to nod off once more. Her head felt like a cinder block, and her eyes like weights. Her head dropped onto Ronald's shoulder, sighing out as her grip on the photograph loosened and a peaceful sleep finally claimed her. Ronald turned his head, only to be met with a mouthful of sweet smelling locks. He chuckled as he stared at the passed out girl, resting his head on top of Darcy's as his gaze watched the passing scenery.
"A beautiful night." He whispered to no one in particular, two stars that shone significantly brighter than the others catching his eye.
His eyes softened, and just under his breath, he murmured. "We got her from here."
He was sure the stars's glimmering grew even brighter after that.
The car's occupants were engaged in a pleasant silence, moving through London's thick fog at a steady pace. The night had held many unknowns and emotions, and yet all of the reapers realized that they did not fear traversing the fog anymore.
A promised sanctuary, just for the five of them.
Darcy's dreams were full of light.
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This chapter took me so long to type lol my fingers HURT. I hope you enjoyed!!! Stay tuned for the next chapter :)