13. Sickness.

It was blood. The dark liquid dripping through my fingers as I coughed. My shoulder smacked into the brickwork as my legs gave out, I wanted to laugh but I couldn't stop coughing. This is what I deserved. Gritting my teeth I stood again, using the wall as a crutch. The few people out on the street at this hour avoiding me. Most would think I was homeless with the way I dressed but it wasn't so. I coughed again, more blood forcing it's way up, splattering all over the pavement. I wrapped an arm around my chest, hoping it would help, all this coughing made it feel like my ribs were going to explode. I was sick. One woman screamed when she saw my face, i was pretty much covered in blood now. I smirked and pushed off the wall, more blood bubbling from my lips. I lurched towards her, managing a laugh, she ran down the street screaming. At least i had a bit of fun before i died. Because that was really the only possible outcome right now. Me, dying on the streets like a dog. I guess it was what I deserved. I crashed into the wall again, my vision was doing funny things to me. I slid down it slowly, standing seemed to be beyond my abilities now. Despite how heavy I felt I inched my way down the wall at a snails pace, nowhere near the ground when I started coughing again. That landed me right on my arse in an instant, a lot faster then sliding down the wall had been but it hurt a lot more then I thought it would. Sighing I closed my eyes, at least I was somewhat comfy now, that and my coughing had stopped for now. It would come back I knew it would but I no longer felt the need to vomit up a lung or two.
"You look like you could use some help." My eyes snapped open, instantly meeting a pair of warm honey gold eyes. The boy looking quite friendly despite the scowl on his face.
"What point is there is in helping a dying man?" I asked, smirking at the boy who was bent over to be at eye level with me.
"It's just a punctured lung filling up with blood, I can fix it." He sounded so assured of himself, I snorted at him, blood dripping out of my nose from the action but I nodded. It wasn't a punctured lung but at least I would be comfortable for while. He offered me a hand up, I wiped what blood off it I could on my jeans and took it. It was a lot easier to stand then I thought it would but I had to lean heavily on the boy just to walk.
The boy took me to a clinic probably one his family run judging by the keys he used to enter the building.
"You're running a bit late son, i expected you home a few hours ago." Yeah definitely run by his family. I smirked, managing a snort.
"I found someone who was hurt, i think it's a punctured lung. I'm going to go grab something if you could clean away some of the blood for me that would be great," he murmured, setting me down on the bed, his father raised a brow at me from behind his sons back. We both waited watching him putt around the room until he left.
"Sorry about that Ichigo can be rather stubborn. I'm Isshin," he said, wiping the blood off my face for me.
"Grimmjow, could care less. It's giving me somewhere comfy to die and it will probably be a bit less painless then carking it on the street with the brickwork digging into my spine," i muttered, getting comfy. Isshin snorted in laughter, not many people accepted their own death so willingly.
"I'm sorry to tell this Grimmjow, no matter what my boy has said, it's not a punctured lung. There is just to much blood and you seemed to be moving fine, if there were damage to the ribs you'd have sharp shooting pain up one side," he muttered wiping blood off of my face and neck carefully. I just laughed, it sounded terrible and wet but it was relaxing to be able to laugh like nothing was wrong with the world.
"I know that doc." He squeezed my shoulder in sympathy, he knew a dying man when he saw one.
"'M sick."