Death groaned as he drifted back into consciousness. The last thing he remembered was being shot by Blackbeard. He didn’t feel particularly dead, but then again, he didn’t exactly know what being dead felt like. Was it one of those know-it-when-you-feel-it type things? Or did you have to know what you were looking for to realize that was what you were feeling?
He was getting distracted. Death strained to open his eyes, managing only a cursory examination of the ceiling before they closed again. This meant there was a ceiling. Specifically, the Reaper Castle infirmary’s ceiling, which Death considered to be a good sign.
A monotone voice spoke up. “Oh. Are you awake?”
Death made another attempt to fully wake up, this time managing to pull himself upright and open his eyes all the way. “Not yet, Dad. Jus’ gimmie a bit.”
There were a few whole seconds of pure silence, as Death’s cognitive functions returned one by one. “Aaand I’m back. How long was I out?”
Death’s Dad sighed, continuing to speak in a monotone and emotionless manner. “More than 48 hours. You missed a lot of work.”
Death yawned. “I always miss a lot of work.” He turned to face his father. “Oh, and Dad? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Just hurry up and recover, so you can get back to work.”
Death scowled. “You’re not fine. You never talk this way unless you’re really upset. What’s wrong, Da-”
Death froze, slowly turning his gaze around the infirmary. He was the only one there. “Dad, where’s Grimm?”
“He’s doing fine.”
“Dad, answer my question: Where’s Grimm?”
“He’s on the rooftop, having some alone time. He fully recovered 27 hours ago – it’s you I’m worried about, dammit!”
Death flopped back down onto his infirmary bed. “Oh… Sorry.”
Grimm Senior grumbled quietly. “It’s fine. Now stop jumping to conclusions and get some rest.”
“Okay, Dad.”
There was another moment of silence, as Grimm Senior quietly stared at his son. A silence finally broken when the old Reaper let out a sigh. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you stop your training early…” The silence returned for a while, then once more it was broken by Grimm. “I’ve decided. I want you up and out of bed within 4 hours. You and your brother will report for training tomorrow. It will begin at ten in the morning, sharp. Tardiness will not be tolerated. Try and skip, and I will drag you there. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Good. I will go speak to your brother about this matter now.” Grimm Senior stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in, and began to make his way toward the room’s exit. “Oh, and Death? If things ever get this bad again, you and your brother are to retreat.” He clenched his fist, clearly trying to restrain his emotions. “Please…”
A note from the
authorninja:Grimm Senior is not as in control of his emotions as he’d like others to believe.