Assassination's note: Long story short, I reread the entirety of this story over the years multiple times. Hardcore cringed at some of the stuff written (mostly mine - who am I kidding...a lot of what I wrote). That being said, as I was scribbling things out this one time last year, I figured, 'Why not try to finish it yourself?' Since I got the basis of what's going on until I'm diverting from the original plot. That and, well, the person I was working on this with kind of went, 'Poof.'

However! I may have two rewritten chapters done, that doesn't mean I'll be forking out the others as easily because that's where the deviation comes in.

A growl erupted from his throat as he stalked from the throne room of the white castle he lived in. White hallways echoed with his footsteps, a malevolent aura radiating from him. Grimmjow was not happy. No, not at all. Aizen had ordered him to go to the Land of the Living for some ridiculous item that so happened to be tea. Just because he hated the bastard, he was being made to do this trivial task.

Reaching his room, Grimmjow slammed the door open, nearly knocking it off its hinges in the process. With a flick of his wrist, a portal opened and he stepped inside.

Immediately, he knew that something wasn't right and he couldn't get back to Las Noches once he was hurtled forward and through a hole in a wall. It was a tight fit, his broad shoulders knocking against the sides as Grimmjow squirmed. It took some time until he got out and ended up landing on a tiled floor. Glancing from side to side, he narrowed his eyes as his hand instinctively went for his sword.

Apparently he was in a bathroom, though it wasn't familiar.

Picking himself up off the ground, Grimmjow noticed that he wasn't wearing his hakama, jacket and sandals. Instead they'd been replaced with hard wearing black cargo pants, worn combat boots, a tight dark green shirt and an army jacket. "The fuck?!" He scowled and looked around once more, his hold on Panthera's handle tightening.

It seemed like he was in a cheap, grubby bathroom. There was debris where he fell, the mirror smudged and just an air of general unkeptness. The tile and porcelain were dull and there was a faint oder but it didn't smell like anything he could name since it seemed far away.

Grimmjow withdrew his sword, holding it ready in this foreign place. He didn't know what might be beyond the bathroom door and at least he had the comfort of knowing he could defend himself should it come down to it. Moving to the door, he cautiously opened it, the panel of wood swinging toward him as he did so. As much as he may love to fight and rush headfirst into battle, he wasn't home anymore.

He tensed briefly once his ears perked up to a 'click' from somewhere down the hallway he stepped out into. Grimmjow cast a glance to the closed door near the bathroom and figured that not much would be on the other side. At least, nothing he could sense. At the other end of the hall however...

Grimmjow walked toward the minuscule amount of spiritual pressure and surveyed his surroundings with a quick scan once he found himself in the living room of, he assumed, an apartment. But that wasn't a cause for concern. Rather it was a small man huddled in the corner, gun in hand and a lone candle lit in front of him. Despite the fact that the muzzle of the gun was pointed at him, Grimmjow didn't sense much of a threat.

He took in the pale, drawn appearance of the man and decided that his assumption was right. With that, Grimmjow slid Panthera back into its sheath. He watched as the man shook, reminiscent of a deer in headlights and that those green eyes were on his sword.

The man cast a glance past Grimmjow and once he turned his gaze back to him, the man stood. Still pointing the damn gun at his face but it wasn't like Grimmjow could really blame him. He backed up some more while stuttering out, "H-how the hell did you get in here? The door...you can't..."

There was a momentary pause and the man took a hand away from the gun to rub his forehead.

"I came through a hole in the wall." Grimmjow grunted, a little unsettled by how freaked out the other man was. Sure, he was small, not muscular like Grimmjow was and he was shaking like a leaf.

A weird feeling rose and Grimmjow squashed it down. He couldn't trust this guy after just meeting him. Well, more like stumbled.

"Can you tell me where the hell I am? I was tryin' to get to Karakura Town through a Garganta and ended up in that shitty bathroom," He cocked his head back towards the aforementioned room.

"Wait," the man lowered both his hands and regarded Grimmjow, "'a hole in the wall?'" The man gnawed on his lower lip for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "Okay, now, one: it's not a 'shitty bathroom.' Two: I've never even heard of 'Karakura Town' and have no idea what you're talking about."

"'course it's shitty, all the grime and, yes, a hole in the wall. I barely fit...and I don't give a shit what you think or that you don't know 'bout Karakura Town, what I want to know is where the hell am I?" He ran a hand through his hair, looking over the room a bit more. It was kind of forlorn, any sense of happiness lying dead and forgotten. He got that vibe from the man as well.

At least the guy was calming down and not shooting him.

Probably because Grimmjow hasn't threatened him and why the hell would he? He needed information and this man was the only one to provide such at the moment.

There was a bitter laugh before the man said, "You're in my apartment if you hadn't noticed." He then moved over to the lone couch and sat down, arms draped over his knees as Grimmjow looked around once more.

"You live here?" He felt pity start to creep in. Hell, Grimmjow didn't like living with Aizen but at least it was clean. All those white walls and shit was boring as Hell but still. "Well, damn. Your life must suck more than mine. I wouldn't live in this Hellhole if I had a choice."

"It wasn't always like this." The man tightened his hold on his pistol with a frustrated glint coloring his gaze. "I've been stuck here for a while and..." He paused and looked down on the beige carpet.

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side slightly, he took note of the grip on the firearm and the gleam in the other man's eyes. "On that note, I'm Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez."

He looked up with a gentler tone in his eyes and a meek smile as he set the gun down on the coffee table. "I'm Henry Townshend."

"And since I don't have a clue where this is and how to get out, 'll have to get used to it. Better than Aizen, that bastard." Grimmjow took a seat on the floor across from Henry, crossing his legs Indian style and unhooking his sword from his belt, setting it in front of him so he could withdraw it without much trouble.

Henry cocked his head. "You said you came through the hole...how are you so sure you can't go back?"

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes before he laughed. "Why the hell would I want to? And just be ordered around like someone's slave? Be treated like a pet? Nah, I think I'll take my chances here than go back." He waved a hand to dismiss the topic before Henry bothered to ask why. "What is this place anyway?"

"I don't think you want to stay here that long..." Henry hesitated, furrowing his brows and looking down on his hands. He pressed his mouth into a thin line before breathing in deep, trying to organize his thoughts to explain. "It's not really safe here. Kind of like a personal Hell, if you ask me. It's...I can't tell what the hell it is anymore. You can't open the windows and the door is..."

Grimmjow sat there, trying to make sense of the garbled explanation about how Henry had tried previously to get out. He just about understood, but Henry's eyes widened and clamped his hands over his ears with a pained grunt. Grimmjow parted his lips, about to ask what was wrong until he caught the scent of death. Sickly sweet.

Both were on their feet in a matter of seconds with varying mindsets.

Henry knew what was coming and Grimmjow was simply set on taking out whatever it was. They veered over to the left corner of the living room wall, watching as tar burned at the surface and the creature inside tearing through the thick layer. It was like something from the deepest pits of Hell had entered the room. Grimmjow was sickened at the sight of it and a hint of fear hit him as it continued to crawl out, black tar dripping to the floor.

The stench had gotten stronger, almost enough to make Grimmjow's eyes water. He stifled the urge to cough and glanced over to Henry to see what he made of this newest addition. Not seeing him to his right, Grimmjow whipped his head to the left and what he saw wasn't promising.

Henry had managed break out of his shock and had gone to the trunk, only to rummage through it desperately. His terror was clear and on full display, chest heaving when he couldn't seem to find what was needed to blast this thing back to wherever the fuck it came from. "Oh God...oh God, no..."

Grimmjow's features pinched up once Henry veered over his shoulder to the thing and reminded himself that Henry was genuinely terrified. With that in mind, it was only a few seconds before Grimmjow turned his full attention back to the demon he had to kill. Not wanting to draw Panthera yet, he lifted his hand and fired off a small cero at the creature, confident that it would disintegrate or at least be knocked back into the portal.

Neither happened and being attacked resulted in the creature squealing and shrieking. The pitch loud enough to make Henry cover his ears and it grated on Grimmjow's nerves. It didn't even come close to being as bad as some screeches he'd heard from lesser hollows he'd eaten. Still, the thing must be a tough fucker to survive that.

"Just fucking blow up already!" he snarled, increasing the power of his next shot and fired with a loud 'bang.'

Another screech was pronounced as the warped being swung an arm to fling tar at Grimmjow's face before scurrying on the ground like a sick animal hellbent on getting to its prey. Said prey being Henry, who was looking around to find something to stop it while Grimmjow ducked the tar. He saw the candle he'd lit earlier, when he thought Grimmjow was one of the demons, and reached out to grab the hot wax.

Henry flinched as the wax burned his skin but turned and tossed it at the monster's eyes. The monstrosity reared back, shrieking as it seeped into the hole of burning ashes it left behind as it died.

Grimmjow turned, watching as the creature disappeared and scowled. "So a candle does more damage than my cero? How fucked up is that?" He pulled Panthera from its sheath, wary that he might be attacked again or that another would show up. After a minute of nothing happening, almost as if it never happened, Grimmjow cautiously approached Henry. "You alright?"

Henry cradled his hand and clenched his jaw. "Do I look 'alright' to you?!" he snapped, turning toward the trunk and digging around for a first-aid kit. "I have hot wax on my hand. Whatever the hell you are, apparently you can't tell the difference!"

He heaved a sigh and crouched down. "Fine, fine. Quit your bitching. I'm not used to being around people who admit it, okay?" Frowning, he took the hand with remnants of hot wax on it in a firm grip and looked it over as Henry paused in his search to regard him. "Going to need a bandage or somethin' but first this wax needs to come off."

"I know that. I was just -"

Henry's eyes widened once Grimmjow opened his mouth and laved his tongue over the cooling wax. It action didn't seem to bother Grimmjow in the slightest, what with being a feline and all, and hoped it would give Henry a soothing and reassuring feeling like it did him. However, Henry's jaw went slack and he stared at Grimmjow in a dumbfounded fashion before he turned his gaze elsewhere.

Confused at his reaction, Grimmjow's frown deepened as his eyes ran over Henry's expression. "What's wrong? I was just tryin' to soothe the burn." He didn't understand just why he'd gotten the opposite response he'd wanted. Unless... "You're not used to being taken care of?"

He couldn't help the smile that started to erase the puzzled frown as he watched Henry distance himself a tad. Henry held up a hand, gesturing Grimmjow wait as he resumed his inquiry for a first-aid.

"No. Just...it's not like something's wrong. I just never got hot wax on my hand before." Pausing for a second, he scanned the contents one more time and grabbed the kit that had been buried. Henry sat down and opened it, grabbing the ointment to smear over the pinkened skin before bandaging it up. "And it's not like everyday someone comes into my apartment through the bathroom."

"I would hope that wasn't normal, 'cause that would be weird." He wasn't upset that he'd been rebuffed since it was clear Henry wasn't used to getting attention. Or at least the kind Grimmjow offered. "Anyway. Do you just sit in this room and go crazy while waiting for one of those things to eat ya?"

Henry didn't respond for a while, simply closing the kit and putting it back in the trunk before standing. He exhaled, shoulders slumping as he closed the lid and shook his head. "No." Henry pointed toward the bathroom. "I go through there and see things that are worse than what you just saw. Everyone I meet there dies and always has a number on them. Like 16121."

Grimmjow gave a low whistle. "That's a lot of people, though I'll bet I've eaten more hollows than that." He pushed to stand and followed Henry from the living room to the hallway with Panthera in hand. "Still, I've seen some pretty nasty shit but that thing back there takes the cake. Horrifying, yes, but not scary."

The only sound filling the silence was the soles of their shoes brushing over the carpet.

Eventually Grimmjow ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Why do you go out there?"

Henry's posture shifted, his uncertainty clear in the way he tried to recompose himself. As if he was uncomfortable. Or more so than when Grimmjow had licked him, but still. "For answers."

Short and to the point. Besides, Grimmjow could see that it was probably hard for Henry to explain and nodded in acknowledgement. "Everyone wants answers but do they ever get the right ones?" he asked, even if he wasn't truly expecting Henry to answer.

It was more important to think about than answer, really.

Though Henry seemed intent on answering when he shot a, one would assume, cocky smile over his shoulder. "Only if they look hard enough. My guess is that you can't."

Although surprised at the recovery from before, Grimmjow let out a bark of a laugh. "Now that's more like it! I like ya better as a spit fire than a moopy lil' wuss." His smile twisted into a roguish grin. "Life's simple for me. Eat, fight, have sex. Basic urges," he stated with a shrug, "and that's all of an answer I need."

There must have been something wrong with his response because Henry's smile fell and he seemed somewhat appalled.

"What?"

Henry rubbed his temple with a sigh. "Okay, we're going to have some rules. One: no sex. Two: only fire, uh, whatever you did when it's a life threatening situation. That's all. Are we clear? Especially no sex." He lowered his hand and nodded, as if Grimmjow had already agreed and went into his bedroom.

Still floored by the rules, Grimmjow stared after Henry for a few seconds before quickly following. "No sex?!" He sounded like a child who's candy had been taken and the pout probably didn't help his case. "What about masturbating? Gotta let off some sexual tension, hell any tension, somehow?"

It's not like he was opposed to the rules, heck, he could live with them since they were almost always needed and in this situation he understood why.

"And what the hell am I supposed to do? What are you gonna to do for that matter?" Maybe firing off all these questions wasn't the best idea but he was still confused.

Henry rose a hand and waved it to let Grimmjow know he wasn't going to answer right now as he opened the door to his bedroom. He gave it a once over, making sure there were no surprise monsters, and made his way to the window with Grimmjow hot on his heels. Barely letting them be too far apart, considering the circumstances. They stopped by the window, watching as the people (or so Grimmjow hoped) milling about and after a minute Grimmjow turned to face Henry.

The look on his face was thoughtful, eyes scanning the crowd as if looking for something. Whatever that something was, Grimmjow had no idea.

"What're you mooning over now? And what's with all the mon-"

A hand moved, clapping itself over Grimmjow's mouth as Henry turned his head to look at him. "They're people." He furrowed his brows and looked back out the window, catching a glimpse of one of the tenants in the building. Henry felt his stomach twist into a knot and took his hand away.

"Whoa, sorry to...offend ya..." Grimmjow's response was hesitant, not sure of what to do as he turned his gaze back to the window as well. "Though if they attacked ya and tried to kill you, I'd say they aren't people anymore. Even if you knew 'em."

Henry blinked, breaking himself from his train of thought and regarded Grimmjow with a solemn expression. "So far you're the only one who's had the chance. But I'm...glad you didn't."

He tisked. "Why would I? Ain't got a reason to and you're good company. Even if I'm bad."

"I wouldn't say that." Henry stepped back from the window and headed back to the living room with Grimmjow not too far behind. "Oh...and to your earlier question," Henry peered over his shoulder, seeing that he had Grimmjow's utmost attention, "you can. But seeing what you saw earlier...I think you wouldn't want to take the risk."

"Don't worry about me. I'mma tough fucker, it'd be hard to kill me since I don't plan on dyin' anytime soon." Grimmjow said with sly confidence, a huge grin on his lips that exposed his sharp canines.

Henry's eyes widened slightly at the sight. "Nice teeth. Natural canines?"

"Yep. I evolved from a panther hollow so I still have feline urges and some of the features."

Henry rose a brow and pivoted on his heel to be face-to-face with Grimmjow. "I don't even know what the hell you're talking about. What's a 'hollow?'"

Grimmjow flexed his jaw for a moment before his grin returned. "A hollow is basically a corrupted soul and they can become stronger by eatin' other hollows. I was transformed from my panther into this one. And I hafta say this one's much hotter."

"...oh." Henry felt like that should raise the biggest red flag, but he wasn't a 'hollow' and Grimmjow hadn't eyed him up like a slab of meat. Yet.

Sadly, both of them knew the explanation made Henry uncomfortable, but they also knew that he'd asked. As the saying went, 'Ask and ye shall receive.'

"Look, I think we got more important things to worry about and I don't have a clue about..." Grimmjow flicked his wrist, indicating the whole apartment. "Any of this."

Blinking, Henry furrowed his brows then motioned that Grimmjow follow him to the living room. "I can't tell you everything. Not because I don't trust you," he ignored the other's huff, "but because I don't know myself. Like I told you, the windows won't open and the door's chained shut." Henry jerked his head toward said door before sitting down on the couch.

Just like before, Grimmjow sat on the floor across from Henry and crossed his legs. "Okay. But what about those monsters? Can I cut their heads off? Or do I need to coat it in some of that wax - what was in that wax anyway? Normal candles can't do that."

"Well...I've taken to calling them 'holy candles.'" Henry broke their eye contact and fiddled with his hands. "I need to restock but if you light one when that thing starts showing up, it'll scare it off. I don't know why, it just does."

Grimmjow scowled but didn't bother to question it. Since, as Henry said, he didn't know all the answers.

Doesn't mean Henry didn't try his best to.