Disclaimer: Bleach doesn't belong to me.

Warnings: Not particularly graphic sex, naughty language, and spoilers for the Soul Society arc. This is totally Renji's POV, hence the harsh thoughts about Ichigo (whom I love).

Making It Right

She sat there, and Renji knew it wasn't right. The Rukia he knew was a flaming, spitting, unstoppable bitch damn it. She fought. She screamed. She mocked. She made a nuisance of herself. But she had never once, in Renji's memory, just sat staring out of a window.

No, that wasn't true. Sometimes when they were little Rukia had been quiet when she was scared or lonely but too proud to admit it. Or when he had been scared or lonely, and she was kind enough to spare his ego by pretending she didn't notice…while easing that same fear and loneliness with her silent presence. But that had been purposeful silence. When Renji looked at his friend now the only word he could think of to describe her was 'defeated.' And that, he could say with assurance, was something she had never been.

He wondered if it had been a change that occurred over the five decades they had spent apart. It was possible. When Renji thought about Rukia's life it made him want to hit something: abandoned on the streets like garbage at birth, finding friends only to have them die one by one before her eyes, joining the ranks of the shinigami only to find herself separated from her only friend in school. And that was just her childhood.

When she had been given the opportunity to join the Kuchiki house it had seemed like a brilliant career move, but Renji knew now that she hadn't really wanted to go. But he had gone and acted as though he didn't care, as though their separation was a happy occasion for him. Renji, having been thrown away at birth himself, knew exactly how she had felt then: abandoned.

Then the travesty that came next. Rukia found herself cut off from making friends by her 'noble' status, and cut off from job promotion by her new brother's total refusal to aid her advancement in any way. She had no friends, she had no career, and as far as Renji was concerned it was a miracle she hadn't slit her own throat. No, not a miracle; a sign of her incredible courage.

Which paid off as Rukia did start to make friends. There was Kaien, who risked Byakuya's ire by treating Rukia as a normal subordinate. There was Kaien's wife, kind and friendly. There were the two idiot lieutenants who appeared to hate each other and yet were somehow always together (Renji grinned—how unlike himself and Rukia).

Because Rukia could never catch a break, it didn't last. Kaien and his wife had died, Rukia had been blamed by everyone (thank God the court had at least seen it wasn't her fault), and all the trust she'd labored for decades to build had crumbled in an instant.

Again she hadn't given up, but had tried to start again in the real world. Renji didn't know what had happened down there exactly, only that her courage and selflessness had acted against her again. She had apparently committed a felony for some dumb shit punk who couldn't possibly have deserved it.

Yet Rukia was a woman so noble, nothing could crush her. Not being thrown away, not being abandoned by her friends, not poverty or loneliness, not job stagnation. And by God, Renji refused to believe that whatever had happened in the real world had crushed her either!

The guilt Renji felt knowing that if he'd just had the guts to say "don't leave" to Rukia when Byakuya had offered to adopt her could have prevented her so much suffering ate at his gut like cancer. Still, he wasn't one to give up any more than she was. He didn't know how he could save her from execution, but he could damn well put some life back into her!

He started with all of her favorite foods. "Hey, Rukia! Eggs! Over easy, sunny side up, raw, omelets and egg salad! With cucumber!" The first time Renji tried this, she lowered herself to making a jab about his eyebrows. The second time he just got a withering look. The third time, by far the worst, she didn't even move from her chair.

Didn't even turn around.

So Renji did what he always did when he wanted attention: threw a tantrum. He kicked the bars, threw the food right over Rukia's head, and yelled himself hoarse. Look at me, bitch! You can't just ignore me like this!

You can't just give up like this!

But she had. She hadn't eaten for days, hadn't bathed, and only spoke during the short time every day that Hanatarou scooted submissively into her room to clean. After a few days the silent battle of wills he had with his childhood friend occupied Renji's every conscious thought. His pride was battered and he was growing scared, really scared, for Rukia's safety and sanity.

Being made to feel these things made him very angry.

Eight days after her capture and imprisonment, Rukia was awakened before the sun rose by a lot of noise outside her cell. The noise turned out to be Renji lugging a large bucket of water through the door. The bucket was followed by a basket bolding the largest bar of soap she'd ever seen, a towel, and a frightening assortment of her least favorite foods.

Renji had planned carefully for this. At this hour most of Soul Society would be asleep, and Rikichi was at the outside door to keep out any weirdo who might be awake and decide to come. Hanatarou wasn't scheduled to come in until the afternoon, and Renji's lieutenant status meant that his orders to be left alone would keep anyone else but a captain out. As none of the captains had the time to stop by and visit, and only Ukitake had the inclination, Renji thought he was fairly safe. Particularly since Ukitake was sick in bed again.

So. Rukia was going to take a bath, she was going to eat (he had made the cooks prepare everything he remembered her hating as a child, so irritated was he at the waste of the good meals earlier), and goddamn it she was going to say something!

Rukia kept quiet until Renji began to open her cell door. "What the hell are you doing? How did you get the key to my cell?"

"Oh, you've decided to lower yourself to speakin' to me, have you?" Renji did not have to fake the irritation in his voice. "Careful, you'll fuck up the image of being so far above everyone else you have going."

"Stop being stupid and answer me." This was different from before. They had always traded insults, but there was real malice, real fury in their words this time.

Renji stood straight, towering over Rukia's sitting form, and his voice was low and dangerous. "I got the key by callin' in about a dozen favors. And I'm here because I'm fucking well fed up with watching you mope."

"Go away and don't watch me, then." And she turned her back to him.

That was it.

Renji didn't walk so much as stomp over to the supplies he'd brought. He yanked the soapy towel out of the bucket, stomped back to Rukia, and grabbed the collar of her robe. Without even a word Renji pulled his old friend right out of her chair (a corner of his brain marveling at her weightlessness), shoved her to the floor, and began scrubbing at her exposed legs.

This was the moment of truth. Should Rukia crumble and cower at the rough treatment like a, well, girl Renji would know her spirit well and truly crushed. But she wouldn't, couldn't do that. She was Rukia. She would never cower or crumble.

She did not. She was yelling at the top of her voice and kicking at him before he could get to her knees. "Idiot! Jackass! You're gonna scrape my skin off!"

"Yeah, well. If you'd done this yourself sometime in the last week I wouldn't have to." Much as he tried, Renji couldn't keep the elation from his voice. Not beaten, she wasn't beaten yet after all!

Rukia told Renji later that in that moment she had been forcibly reminded of the time she had held Kon down with her foot to brush him clean. However she was no helpless plushie, as she reminded Renji by shoving the heel of her hand into his nose and forcing him off of her. She snatched the towel from his flailing hand and turned away, scrubbing herself. "Happy?"

Renji scowled. Instead of answering with words he waited until Rukia was done washing, grabbed the bucket of water, and dumped it over her head.

It was like going back in time, back to before Byakuya or enlistment or even the academy. Back to when they could tease each other freely any way they wanted to, because they knew how much they really meant to each other. Knew that no joke or jab could break them apart. Watching Rukia splutter made Renji laugh, really laugh, as he pointed at her like a little boy: ha ha, I got you, I got you!

A second later he dodged the bucket that came flying towards his head. He grabbed a corner of Rukia's sopping wet robe and dragged her to him. When he kissed her, he wasn't at all surprised that she kissed him back. Nor that it felt fabulous.

It was she who pushed him to the ground this time and Renji went willingly, knowing that he wasn't being rejected but positioned. It was but a second later that Rukia was settling her tiny body in-between his legs, shifting around and giving wonderful momentary pressure to just the right area before putting her mouth over his again. Supporting himself on one arm Renji grabbed the back of her head with the other and wound his fingers into Rukia's hair. He kissed her much too roughly, biting her lower lip and thrusting his tongue into her mouth with no softness or preamble. Again he was delighted by how she welcomed and returned his attentions. He'd had no shortage of lovers, but none that hadn't cried for him to be gentle by now. He'd never minded. It always made him feel very much like a man to have overpowered them that way.

Rukia refused to be overpowered, and this was exciting in a way Renji had only felt while fighting. For the first time, here was a woman who he'd have to fight to dominate. It made him want to conquer her that much more.

That he knew he never could made it yet more exciting than that.

So he bit and licked and growled, and then her robe was off and so were his hakama. He hissed as he buried himself none-too-gently into her, trying to make her yell and succeeding as she lay flat on her back spread out on her once-pristine white prison garb.

When it was all over Renji had a handsome set of scratches on his back to match the tattoos, Rukia had many hickies that would keep her holding her prison robe close to her body for the next few days, and neither of them could move. Eventually with Rukia pushing and Renji rolling they were able to get him off of her prone form and onto his back, where he lay getting his breath back. She was a hell of a woman.

Soon to disappear from the world. Renji felt himself go cold at the thought, more so now that he knew she had such spirit left in her. How could she just be extinguished like a used cigarette or a dying candle?

Renji realized that he couldn't let it happen. More, he realized that he had never intended to let it happen. He had just been unable to be truthful with himself. He had worked so hard and fought so long to get where he was, and helping Rukia might very well mean throwing it all away. He'd do it, but the thought left him miserable nonetheless. He knew now how it felt to be Rukia.

It sucked.

Abarai Renji dressed himself and left Rukia's cell without a word, preparing to go ruin his life.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As ever, comments and criticism are very, very welcome!