Rose Valley Shenanigans

Seedling

"Adam Parker, born the 16th of August 1874, died today, the first of December 1899,"  Grell said aloud, finishing up the reap. "Died of internal injuries gained by falling from his horse earlier in the day..." she looked to the horse, smiling as Alan was stroking the animal on its nose. "No further notes." With a smile she stamped the file. "Al~," she turned around, "that was the last one! We're off work for the rest of the night!" 

"That's great, Grell," Alan replied, having taken the bridle off the horse to remove the bit. "Do you think people will miss him?" he asked, watching the beast graze. "He's a good boy."

"The horse?" Grell asked, standing next to her colleague. "Why should they miss him? He's just a horse. I doubt they'd mourn him, even if he is pretty."

Alan stood quiet. 

"Oh, well," the red-haired reaper hummed. "If you think he's got that much potential, take him with you for the stables, why don't you? Or is he a gelding?" when she received no answer she looked to her side. "Al?"

"I feel dizzy," Alan whispered.

Grell blinked. "What's wrong, darling?" she asked, putting a hand on the smaller reaper's shoulder.

"I don't know," Alan's breathing began to speed up and he hugged Grell's hand tight. "Everything's spinning," he told her, having gone pale even for a reaper.

Grell took his other hand and gently pulled him down to sit. "Head between your legs," she instructed, pulling his knees up. "Breathe, okay dear?"

The brunet let out a cry instead, hugging his chest. "Oh my God," he sobbed, "my chest, my chest!" his breathing caught and he began to cough, sobbing.

His colleague hugged him tight to her chest, unsure of what to do. "Alan?" she rubbed his back fumbling to try and get a look at him. "Have you had this before?" She was trying to stay calm, but her own voice was wavering from the shock.

Alan couldn't answer between coughing and crying out. He didn't look like he had even heard her. His hands clawing at his chest, his face screwed up in pain, his desperate cries getting worse. A few moments later he just fell quiet and laid there, shaking and gasping.

"Alan?" Grell took off her gloves, rubbing his cheeks. "Are you with me, darling?" he was burning, nearly human temperature, only adding to her concern. "Alan? Hey, Humphries!" Grell called out to him more strongly, smacking his cheeks.

Two glazed green orbs met hers, glasses lost somewhere. They were terrified, like The Superior himself was judging him right then and there.

"It, hurts," Alan told her in a very small voice between gasps. "Being crushed... Can't..." he coughed again, reaching out to her. His outstretched hand was met with a slightly larger one, fingers intertwining.

"Have you had this before?" Grell asked now that she had his attention. "Do you know what I need to do?" she pulled his hand closer, hugging it in her other one. Alan's was trembling.

Alan shook his head, a grimace on his face. "Hurts," he told her through the suffering, "heart... My heart is bursting!" he finally got out, panting in a moment of quiet. "Grell, it hurts! It hurts!" he began to cry harder, pulling her closer.

"Al, we need to go to the Estate, now," Grell told him sharply. "We have to get a medic to see you." when she wrapped her arms around him and tried to lift him up he screamed, ripping through the winter air. She nearly dropped him, but caught herself before she could.

"Don't, don't, it hurts," he got out before suddenly falling back into coughing and rocking, gone unresponsive again.

The reaper clad in red gritted her teeth, the serrated edges rubbing against each other with a grating noise. "I'm sorry," she told him, standing up. His gasp made her flinch. It was clear his pain was worse when she moved him, but she had to. Taking his dropped scythe in her free hand she leapt to a tree and, from there, to the streets.