Disclaimer: I do not own bleach...but you knew that already

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The boy struggled with every bit of force in his slight frame. His lungs screamed for air. He frantically clawed at the hands around his throat, but his efforts were inconsequential. He was utterly helpless, entirely at the mercy of the hands. I can't breath his mind cried hysterically I need air, I can't breath! Black dots danced in his vision, slowly more gathered, obscuring the face of his assailant. He knew this man, trusted him; for some reason he could not remember his name, but he knew him. He wanted to scream, to ask "Why? What did I do?" but he knew that even if he could have he would have received no response. The man never needed any reason to do this sort of thing to him. Warm tears streamed down his face; he could hear disgusting gagging noises and it took him a moment to realize that they were coming from his own throat. He thrashed violently with every part of his body, futilely hoping that somehow he would dislodge his attacker. Abruptly the hands around his throat tightened, and a sickening crunch reached his ears as a bone somewhere in his neck cracked. Realization tore through his mind; He's not going to let go this time! The black dots began to gather more rapidly, and quickly everything faded to black. It was just blackness and the burning in his lungs and there was no way out…

With a wordless cry his eyes sprang open and his hands flew to his throat, making sure that the other pair was gone. He glanced around his room; it was the same room that he had gone to sleep in, the same as it always was. His breath came quick and sharp, and as soon as he noted that fact he made an effort to slow it. Raising a trembling hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead he tried to bring some measure of calm to himself. He repeated the lie under his breath, "Just a dream, like always, just a dream." The room was uncomfortably hot, to the point where it was almost oppressive. I need fresh air he thought to himself, tossing back the blankets and swinging his feet to the floor. Fumbling around in the dark, he eventually managed to find and clothe himself in a robe. Stepping out into the hallway, he tried to keep his footfalls silent as he made his way to the door. He slowly opened it and slipped outside, hoping that he had not woken anyone. The cool night air was welcome on his skin, the gentle sound of the wind in the grass comforting. Sitting down on the step he dropped his head into his still shaking hands. His heart began to slow to something approaching its normal pace, and his breathing became deeper, more even. He had dreamt the same thing many times, and every time he ended up like this, sleepless, and terrified. Although he had gotten better at calming himself over time, each dream was a traumatizing experience. He was still mentally trying to convince his shaken mind that he was alright, that it was not happening all over again when a voice from behind him broke into his thoughts.

"Whatcha doin' up so late, Izuru?"

He tensed at the sound and raised his head, "I-I'm so sorry. Did I wake you Captain Ichimaru? I tried to be quiet…"

"I wasn't sleepin' anyway. Somethin' the matter? Didya have a bad dream?" came the response, with a more than a hint of a teasing tone.

When no reply was forthcoming, Gin walked over to take a seat beside the other man. His perpetual smirk slipped into a tiny frown as he gazed at the younger shinigami. Izuru had always been the nervous sort, but aside from a few notable slips he tended to be very composed. Right now however, that was not the case; his distress was glaringly obvious. Gin tilted his head to the side and regarded the blond, who stared straight ahead and gave no outward sign to show that he even noticed him. Izuru slowly drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around, and resting his chin atop them. After a few moments he spoke, still not meeting the other's gaze.

"Captain…," he paused glancing sidelong at him before continuing, "do you…do you remember anything from when you were alive?"

Gin blinked at the unexpected question.

"I can't say I do."

"Oh…" Izuru fell silent again.

His reluctance to speak was evident, but the question had piqued Gin's interest. The silver haired man was curious as to what his lieutenant remembered. After all, while not completely unheard of for a shinigami to recall vague scraps of their life, it was very rare. On top of that, the fact that whatever it was that Izuru recalled was unpleasant and obviously upsetting excited Gin.

"Whatcha askin' for? You remember somthin'?" he prodded.

"I…uh…yes" Izuru's voice shook slightly. His fear, which had just begun to dissipate, was returning full force and he silently cursed himself for saying anything. He really did not wish to discuss his 'dream' at the moment, and especially not with Gin. Talking with his captain usually left him confused and uncomfortable on the best of days. Although that was not to say that he disliked the man, on the contrary he adored him. Gin simply had a pronounced sarcastic, slightly sadistic streak that made him a less than comforting presence (to put it mildly).

"What's that?" the older man chirped.

For a long moment there was silence as the younger shinigami considered making something up. He desperately wanted to be alone, to avoid Gin's inevitable mocking. Blue eyes slid over to regard Gin's face, and something about his expression made Izuru think that maybe he'd actually be serious for a change, perhaps offer some comfort, or understanding or something. At the very least he didn't look like he was going to do something cruel this time. That's what you thought last time, the little voice in the back of his mind hissed. He chose to disregard it.

In a tremulous, near-whisper the blond replied "I remember dying."

Gin's eyes widened slightly, crimson glinting through long lashes.

"It's a dream…but its not, it's a dream of a memory…I can't remember when I first had it… but its so vivid, like it's happening all over again… " the words tumbled out in a rush, and he trailed off, instantly regretting opening his mouth. As soon as he had stopped trying to suppress the thoughts, his fear had come back full force, bringing a little shame with it.

The sparkle of interest in Gin's eyes was undeniable, although it was coupled with something else. If it had been anyone but his captain, Izuru would have called it concern.

"Dyin'? How d'ya know your rememberin it, that yer mind's not jus makin' it up?"

"I…I just do…its too real, and I know it happened before…"

Both fell silent for a moment and Gin noticed that his lieutenant's trembling had gotten worse. His eyes were huge, pupils contracted and his breathing erratic. His distress was almost tangible, and Gin found his own emotions competing between sympathy and delight. He had always thought that Izuru looked downright delicious when he was upset. He'd often go out of his way to intensify any grief his lieutenant was feeling for precisely that reason. Izuru never seemed to learn either; he was eternally giving Gin chances to do just that. But right now, it seemed somehow…different. He had a feeling that pushing any of the other man's buttons might result in something disastrous. At any rate, he wanted to hear more. He wondered whether he should prompt the other to continue; he was about to when the blond swallowed audibly and resumed speaking.

"It was violent, and it's out of context, entirely. I only can remember that one bit…right before I die. But it's terrifying, being so…so utterly…helpless." He took a long, shuddering breath. "I was really young…And I…I trusted him…"

After another long silence Gin softly asked, "How…?"

"He…he…" Izuru broke off with a slight whimper and made a choking gesture with his hands near his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and gulped a large breath of air.

Sympathy won out for Gin, even with his decidedly sadistic sense of pleasure, he pitied his lieutenant. Gin himself was afraid of death; he was one of the few shinigami who were. He could imagine how terrifying it must be to know that each time you closed you're eyes for sleep, you might have to relive dying. His overactive imagination filled in the blanks and painted vivid pictures. A slight shudder ran down his spine at the images his mind presented him with. The fact that he could empathize with Izuru drained almost all of the pleasure from seeing him so distraught. It occurred to him that this little revelation explained much about his often apprehensive lieutenant. In particular, he thought of the time when he had first seen Izuru. He had been a vice captain himself at the time; Izuru had been a first year at the academy. Gin and Aizen had shown up to dispatch a group huge hollows attacking the students during a training session in the real world. There were four students still there, all terrified. Three of them had buried their fear in brave determination, but one, Izuru, was in hysterics. At the time it had seemed relatively cowardly, but now it simply made sense.

A moment passed before Gin carefully disentangled Kira's arms from around his knees and snaked his arm around the other man's waist, pulling him into a gentle embrace. He stroked Izuru's pale hair as the younger shinigami buried his face in his chest, seeming to melt into the hug. With a sharp gasp, the last bit of Izuru's control slipped away and hot tears began to slide down his face. Gin pulled him closer and whispered soothingly into his hair. He could feel Izuru's shoulders shaking; sobs muffled by his own body.

Izuru clutched the other man tightly, ashamed at the fact that he was crying, and that Gin was there to witness it, but powerless to stop. The peculiarity of Gin's response to his distress failed to register; where a taunt would usually be offered there was instead an embrace. He found the nearness of his captain, his warmth and gentle hands comforting. He focused on Gin's steady heartbeat against his ear, and slowly calmed. It seemed to him that his tears carried his fear and distress out of him, leaving him with a feeling of comparative lightness.

When Izuru's crying had died down to the occasional hiccupping sob Gin gently took his face in his hands and wiped his tears away with his thumb. Brilliant blue eyes, now tinged with red regarded him, and Izuru softly began to stammer, "I-I apologize captain. I-"

Gin shushed him and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, the gesture doing more to silence the blonde than the sound. "Ya alright now?" he inquired looking earnestly at his lieutenant.

Gin's nose was almost touching his, his breath tickling his lips as Izuru nodded in response, after a moment's hesitation. Despite the powerful emotions still plaguing him, his thoughts momentarily strayed in a familiar and as far as he was concerned inappropriate direction. He quickly shoved them away, as he usually did. One was not supposed to think of their captain that way, and certainly not their male captain! His face, already flushed from crying, turned a shade darker and he hoped that Gin did not notice.

"I-I think so…"

The silver haired shinigami pulled him close again and whispered, "Go get some sleep." Before releasing him and offering a small smile, one totally unlike his usual unsettling smirk. Izuru nodded and returned the smile as best he could, feeling slightly off balance. He started away but stopped as he reached the door, saying in a barely audible whisper "Thank you captain." He slipped back inside before Gin could respond and padded down the hall to his room, feeling considerably better than when he had left it. He had been right though; talking with Gin had left him more confused than he had been before, although for once it was not an entirely bad thing. He was baffled by Gin's reaction, but he had learned long ago not to try to analyze his Captain. It only ever resulted in a headache and if possible, greater confusion. At any rate he liked the side of Gin he had just seen, at the very least it was preferable to the one he usually saw. He collapsed onto his bed, exhausted from a combination of being awake so late and crying, and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

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Gin remained on the step for a long time after Izuru had left. An insomniac by nature, he had learned to operate on very little sleep. By his reckoning he would be fine the next day even if he chose to forego it altogether. He knew that he would not be able to sleep anyway; his mind was in turmoil. It was reflected on his face; his customary grin had still not returned and the strange little frown lingered. He hadn't really had any expectations or idea of what was about to happen when he had slipped out of his room to follow the sound of quiet footsteps down the hall. However, he could definitely say that the last thing he had intended was to end up holding his sobbing lieutenant and pondering about his previous life. He personally had no memories from before coming to soul society, and he was grateful for it. He found himself quite disturbed by Izuru's dream/memory, and it wasn't even his own. Furthermore, he found the lingering sense of empathy and compassion very disconcerting. They had a hazy familiarity, like an old song that he had not heard in years. He supposed that once they had been a regular part of his emotional repertoire and had simply fallen into disuse. He felt a slight pang of nostalgia; a lot of things had changed in him since becoming Aizen's vice-captain all those years ago… That small part of him that had remained unchanged, the same part that loved Rangiku, the remnant of the boy from the Rukongai, was again making itself felt. He knew that it was what had given him the impulse to comfort rather than mock. He reflected that it seemed to be making itself known more frequently, that compassionate part of him, often around Izuru. Although that was not to say his interest in the blonde was entirely innocent. It wasn't even mostly innocent, come to think of it. Either way, having such conflicting feelings was strange and uncomfortable.

Running over the events in an effort to sort out his thoughts, an assortment of minute details came to his attention. Most notable among these were a tight grasp, a deepening blush, widening eyes… Gin's smile returned; gaining his lieutenant's complete loyalty was looking far more enjoyable than he had first thought. Granted, a certain delicacy would initially be necessary, but he had a feeling that would only be in the beginning. Indeed, he realized that he had gained much that night in the way of information. The easiest way to control a person is through either fear or adoration. Unknowingly, Izuru had shown Gin both where his deepest fears and certain affections lay.

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