The Truth Of It

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Her voice came from above him, cold and clear like winter skies. He opened an eye, realizing who it was. It wasn't that he couldn't tell it was she from her voice, but a visual verification was always nice.

"Why?" he grumbled.

"You're nearly in two pieces, you fool." She placed a cool hand upon his burning, throbbing forehead, and almost immediately, most of the pain was gone. Grimmjow was incredulous that such a woman could do such a thing with a simple touch.

"What the—"

"Don't move. Don't speak. I'll be right back with someone who can help."

"Can't you—"

"Not in your state." And then, Neliel was gone. He couldn't even see the cascading green hair swishing across her back.

What seemed like a millisecond later, Neliel was back with someone else. Grimmjow barely recognized the human girl as Orihime. In the next moment, the orange shield was over him, and he could feel tendons and ligaments coming together.

Then, he felt whole again, and then, he wondered why Neliel had bothered helping him, again. After all, the last time, it had been her drool, and this time, she'd done so much more. What the hell did it mean?

"Can't you stand?" Neliel's voice was firm, and came from somewhere far above him. Sometimes, he forgot just how tall she was. As he opened his eyes and stood, he realized that Orihime was gone. Where had she gone?

"Why?" he asked, hoping mildly for a simple answer. Of course, his hopes were not answered.

She ducked her head, turning from him so that he could not catch the expression on her face. He had not realized that he was indebted to her. She began to walk away, making no sound. He sighed, annoyed with the result.

Would he ever see her again?

--

He awoke to sand covering his face, his entire body, and he could swear he had inhaled at least a pound of the gritty stuff. He tried to rub it from his face, but there was so much, and he had to dig to get up.

"Argh!" he spat out what seemed to be gallons of the stuff, lifted the fabric away from his body to get the grit free. The strangest part was the vision catching the corner of his eye. Green hair flowing freely in the breeze made him turn his head to look.

There she was, Neliel Tu Oderschvank in her full glory, for some reason, devoid of any clothing. He could see the line of her naked back, graceful and stick straight. He rubbed at his eye with the one sand free piece of fabric, shaking his head in disbelief.

Out of nowhere, or perhaps somewhere, a beast came swooping in, down low, and toward Neliel. What? He couldn't exactly let her get eaten. The closer it got, the more it seemed that she would not notice.

Grimmjow had to act fast. "MOVE!" he shouted, using a sonido to get to the green-haired arrancar. She appeared as though she had not heard. "Dumb ass." He muttered, taking her under his arm and making off with her. She made no protest, waiting until he set her down upon the sand.

"I was wondering when you would make your move."

"What?" he demanded, a frown creasing his forehead. "What the hell are you trying to say?" he demanded.

"You owe me." She stated simply, lifting her chin. "I consider this little feat as a payment on your debt to me." She nearly smiled, but resisted.

"What the hell? What do you mean?"

"Well, I have saved your life twice."

"Does this mean I have to save yours again?" Grimmjow demanded.

"You're rather dense, aren't you?" She drew closer. "You could start with a kiss, you know." She moved until her lips nearly meant his, and he was straining for them to meet. At the last second, she drew back, patting Grimmjow's cheek in a friendly gesture. "But no. I don't believe you've earned it."

"What?" he growled.

"I could have saved myself easily." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Perhaps there will be another time when you can save me." She gained her feet and left him there, struggling to find the will to follow her.

A halting glare from her made him reconsider all intentions, and he rested, shaking his head at her. What the hell did she really want from him, anyway? How did she keep finding him?

--

The smell of blood, fresh and warm, hit Grimmjow's nostrils, and the pain he felt coursing through him was so very real that he thought it was his own. He held no injuries, and he knew the blood was not his.

It smelled different. It smelled familiar, though it was not his.

He followed the scent.

"What the hell?" he muttered to himself, sonido'ing through fields of sand until he found the source, and that was her, lying in a valley created by four sand dunes. It was more of a bowl, a very deep bowl.

"Nel?"

He was at the bottom an instant later, trying to figure out why she was covered in her own blood, and why it seemed like she was about to die. There was no playful air to her this day; there was nothing to indicate that she was anything but dying.

"What the hell did you do, woman?" he demanded. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Her hand fell from her stomach, revealing the wound that she had been holding shut. Her other hand fell from her chest, revealing yet another wound. Grimmjow felt horrible suddenly, and it was all he could do not to pick her up.

That would only increase the blood flow, he thought. With a moment's thought, he solidified his reiatsu so that he could at least stop the bleeding long enough to bring her to someone who could help. She was barely breathing, and she looked to have lost consciousness. If this wasn't the way to alleviate his debt, he didn't know what would be.

Carefully, he carried her to Las Noches, or what was left of it. Luckily for him, he knew that at least one or two arrancar with healing capabilities were left. At least, the ones that hadn't been thanked by Yammy were still alive.

"Grimmjow-san? What are you—"

"Heal her." He demanded, setting Neliel before the arrancar who had found him. The healer nodded and set to work immediately.

"It may take a while…" Grimmjow was informed, and he sat down, waving his hand.

"I don't fucking care how long it takes." He muttered.

--

Grimmjow couldn't say for sure what had happened, but for some reason, he had dozed off. When his eyes opened, Neliel was no longer injured and covered in blood, but she was still unconscious.

"She's fine now. She'll come to in about a half hour." The healer told Grimmjow quickly.

"Okay." Grimmjow picked up Neliel gently and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it." Grimmjow tossed something small and dark over his shoulder to the healer, who nearly fainted with glee. It was nothing more than a bit of food, but it was something.

Then, Grimmjow had gone. In moments, he was setting Neliel down in the sand, smoothing her hair back from her face, awestruck by how soft the skin was.

"Grimmjow…" Neliel stirred, reaching up for his collar and gripping it. "Thank you," she said softly, pulling herself up towards him. He allowed himself to be pulled down until his lips met hers.

"So I earned something."

"You saved my life this time." She told him, letting a smile spread across her face without restraint.