Disclaimer:I own none of the Bleach characters, Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo, and such. There you have it.

Guys, I finally started it! Took me a while to get round to it, but I finally have. My first GrimmIchi fic.

Okay so, the title and the concept of this is based on the song King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men. Seemed really fitting for these two, I think. I'm not a very musically inspired person, but that song really goes well with GrimmIchi in itself and this fic. Just in case you were wondering. Which you probably don't care, haha.

Well then, by all means, read on.

...

"You know, I've been thinking."

"Thinkin' 'bout what, exactly?"

"Do you remember what you said that time we fought? About you being the King?"

"What of it?"

"Well, say you are a King. If you're the King, what could I be?"

"...King's gotta have some sorta Lionheart, right?"

.I.

It was a chilling night in Karakura. The cold night air seeped through Ichigo's bones, making him shudder. Rain trickled down the nape of his neck, his shihakushō dampened by the wet weather. Darkening grey clouds drifted over the black silhouettes of buildings, the dreaded stormy weather finally coming across the town. It was already an impending sign that something dark was on its way.

Ichigo pulled his zanpakuto from the hollow beneath him, sheathing it. "That's one taken care of," he decided, glaring at the monster, which dissolved underneath him, fading away into nothingness.

Kurosaki then made his way down the path, his attention focused on the blackening skies around him. Rain continued to descend endlessly, and he wished it would stop.

Without warning, something burst forth from an alleyway to the side of him, and the shinigami whipped round, alert and on edge.

Another hollow? He wondered.

Indeed it was. This one was vile and disturbingly ugly, a greenish coloured creature with sharp claws and fangs, and a thick snakelike tail. It was looming over in a corner near the side of the street, and was staring at Ichigo with yellow eyes in the form of slits.

He unsheathed Zangetsu, this time leaping forward to give chase. The hollow began to slither away, reaching as far as the end of the street, before it was silenced by his blade, letting out a deafening screech at it was slain.

Once the foul creature was rid of, Ichigo's eyes picked up on something else. There, behind where the hollow had been, there was something lying on the road.

A figure was lying there, motionless, body hunched over, face down in the gravel. Around the body was a pool of crimson, and his clothes were tattered and bloodied, being evidently beaten and left for dead.

Upon further inspection, Ichigo gasped. He knew who this was.

Those bluish markings that hung below the eyes, that chiselled jaw he bore on his face, that unruly mane of short blue hair. It was the former Sexta Espada.

Is he alive? He thought, crouching down beside the bloody mess on the floor.

"Grimmjow?"

There was no reply but for the sound of the falling rain. Grimmjow's breathing was very, very faint. The bluenette was barely holding on, and not even conscious. His exposed chest was scarred and blemished, and he was in a sorry state. He needed help if he was to live.

I… I can't just leave him on the streets for dead, can I?

For a moment, he just stood there, dwindling on whether or not he should do something. Then something stirred inside him, ignited, like a flame, a spark. He had to act.

Ichigo cautiously wrapped two arms around him, rolling him over and hauling him into his arms. The blue haired arrancar was damn heavy. But he would carry him. It was the only way.

Folding the bluenette into his arms, Ichigo closed his eyes for a moment. I can't believe I'm actually doing this, he thought. The Sexta was trembling against his chest, layers of blood crusted around his wounds, bloodying Ichigo's own clothes.

The redhead sprang onto a nearby rooftop, making way for home, clutching the bleeding hollow in his hands.

Who did this?

.II.

When Grimmjow awoke, he found himself staring at a blank, white ceiling. The indistinct scent of blood was fresh, and he could taste it, thick in his mouth.

Most of his body was treated with ointment and swathed in bandages, it seemed. Whoever had supposedly rescued him had aided his injuries too.

Fuck… he thought, scrunching up his face. Now where the hell am I?

His mind flickered back to that night in the deserts of Hueco Mundo, where he had been walking, just walking, when something had hit him hard and fast. He reeled the memory in his mind over and over. Something had gone terribly wrong.

The Sexta attempted to move, lifting his upper body to try and sit up, but a jolt of pain washed over him and he cried out, grumbling a series of curses, before he surrendered to it, and rested his head back on the pillow.

"Don't try to move too much," came a voice over him, a familiar, irksome voice. "Those wounds need to heal."

You hafta be fucking kiddin' me… he thought, when it finally dawned on him who that voice belonged to.

A boy with spiked orange hair hovered over him, fixing him a suspicious look. He was wearing a more refined shinigami outfit this time, his hair slightly longer, but those damn eyes remained the same. There was no mistake.

"Kurosaki?"

"You're awake," the boy proclaimed, and for a moment Grimmjow thought he saw something, a spur of relief, flash in those hazel eyes. It was strange.

"Goddamn it, why the fuck does it hurt so much," the bluenette huffed, trying a second time to prop himself upright. A flare of agony surged up his spine, making another rumble escape his lips, but he adamantly managed to sit up, leaning against the wall for support.

"So you want to tell me how you ended up like this?" Ichigo asked, sounding so casual.

Grimmjow was confused. Why was the shinigami being so pleasant? Had he forgotten how things were between them? He clenched his jaw tightly with rage, thinking back to the way Kurosaki had beaten him. He had never forgotten. "Why the fuck're you helping me, Kurosaki?"

"How about you answer my question first, then I'll answer yours."

Clever bastard. He watched as the orangette took a seat a few inches away from him, and then growled, "That has fuck all to do with you."

"Seriously. I drag you back here and help you out and that's how you act with me?" He bit back, anger bubbling in his tone. "I thought we were past this kind of childishness, Grimmjow."

The Espada would have probably punched him right there, if it wasn't for the numbness in his body. Yet he was surprised at how willing the shinigami was to be kind to him. I suppose I could tell the little shit… he thought, giving a shrug. "Tch. Fine, yer gonna hafta listen then."

"Go ahead."

"There are people in Hueco Mundo lookin' for you. Don't know their names. Don't know their faces. They've been hackin' off the remaining Espada fer a while now, the ones who won't tell or don't know where you are." He hesitated, before reluctantly adding, "and they got me."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "I take it you wouldn't tell them where I was, so they beat you?"

"I don't give away the location of my prey," he muttered. "Besides, like I'd fucking know where you are. Yer always moving around all the damn time."

Ichigo smirked at that, and Grimmjow was irritated by it. What was so funny? He scowled and fixed predatory blue eyes on the redhead. "Somethin' funny?"

"It's nothing," the substitute replied, dismissing it. "Anyway, work on resting up. I want you ready for tomorrow."

Jaegerjaques narrowed his eyes. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes. We're going to find the people who did this to you, in Hueco Mundo, you and I."

...