Hey guys.

This is the next "serious" fanfic that I'm working on.

WARNINGS: Abuse, violence, blood, lime scented...ehh idek. It might get pretty dark...

I hope you like it, and if you have any questions, they may be answered in the AN below, and if you drop me a review or a PM if they aren't, I'll let you know!

Happy Reading!

You'd think that being technically immortal would be a breeze. That you could make all the mistakes that you wanted to, and you'd just forget them over time. But when you actually live all those years, you find that those mistakes don't go away as easily as you assumed they would. They stick with you, always gnawing and teasing the back of your brain, never letting you forget. There is no peaceful, quiet death to take those mistakes away, because technically, you're already dead. Being mortal is a privilege that the immortal so yearn for. But they can never have it, and eternity is a really long time to think about how long you've fucked up.

…

"I can be tough, I can be strong, but with you, it's not that way at all."

Mercedes knew she was in trouble even before the door rang. That's why she had gone to the trouble of removing her spirit from her gigai, and snatching up her zanpakutō before even checking who was at the door. She knew she was in deep shit, when she saw who had called on her.

Standing there, hands, (or hand, since he was missing an arm) shoved deep into his pockets with his teal hair a mess as usual, was the man she vowed never to speak to again. Before she could relish his expression as she slammed the door into his face and tore down the entire building she was in, his arm shot out, jabbing a hole into her abdomen, just above her womb, and right under the hole in her torso.

The pain wasn't as bad as she expected, Mercedes thought, as she coughed blood all over his spotless white jacket, watching as the crimson drops splattered her doorstep. What was worse was the pain he had caused by not even looking up at her. He hadn't even acknowledged her face, never met her eye. Just punched a hole in her, simple, cold and sadistic as that. That's how she knew he was truly pissed off at her. He laughed his maniacal, sadistic laugh as he removed his arm from her midsection and hefted her over his shoulder like she weighed no more than a bag of apples.

"Grimmjow…" she managed to choke out, coughing on her own blood, "…bastard…"

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the empty street. She could practically feel the hate and anger rolling off of him in hot, fiery waves. And when Grimmjow was pissed, his grammar became erratic. "Shut the hell up, ya fuckin' bitch. I should kill you here'n now for what y'did to all of us." She used to tease him about it, but not today. Not anymore.

"Put me down!" Mercedes gasped, as she beat him as hard as she possibly could, which, admittedly wasn't very hard at all in her state, "Let me go, right now! And—goddamn, is that my sword? Give it back!"

He laughed, and threw her down to the concrete. She recognized the familiar increase in spiritual pressure, and the clawed way the Sexta held his hand. A cero, Mercedes thought, eyes widening in panic, as she scrambled to her feet, Merciful gods, a cero. It'll kill me if it's this close. The redhead scrambled backwards, charging a cero of her own, only to have her upper arm grabbed, and her body yanked closer towards the Espada, who held the electric blue cero to her face. She could feel the heat coming off of it, and she whimpered slightly. "Please…" she choked out, "Don't…" His psychotic grin grew wider, as he released her and roughly threw her down.

"Beg." Grimmjow stated simply, drawing his arm back to fire his cero. "Get on your knees, bitch. And beg."

Mercedes stood up angrily, only to be roughly smacked across the face, and shoved back down again. She rose to her knees, not believing that she was about to submit to this man. "Okay, "she panted, head bowed, tomato coloured hair obscuring her face. "Please." She choked out, fighting a battle with herself. Her arms supporting her on the ground were tense, sweat rolled down her face, and she shook visibly with anger. Her previous aspect of death was pride. The mother of all sins. "Please don't kill me." The tears started rolling down her face, mixing with her sweat. She bit her lip, increasing the pressure until she bit clean through. "Please!" She shrieked, letting a gob of blood and spit fall from her lips, and watching it's journey as it splattered on the pavement.

"Che." Grimmjow snorted. "Not good enough bitch." He kicked her, grinning as she sailed hundreds of feet backwards. And he fired his cero.

She let loose a scream that would've shattered the sky—if that was even possible, the cero collided with her shoulder, creating a burning, stinging sensation. He had kicked her far enough to let her live, but also far enough to where his cero caused noticeable damage. Before she could even form the thought of escaping, he was there in front of her face, grabbing her shoulders as he had done many times before.

"Now," he said, grinning, "Anything else t'say?"

Mercedes remained silent, not daring to meet his azure eyes, which were beautiful, like cut sapphires fixed to his irises, but also dead scary like, she didn't even know, rat poison?

"Well?" he asked, crushing her injured shoulder in his grip.

She shook her head, "N-no." she stammered, wincing as he threw her over his shoulder and opened a garganta.

She could feel her consciousness slipping away as they made the journey across the erratic, unstable bridge of reiatsu. Mercedes couldn't believe that after all the careful, precise effort that she had put into escaping that literal hellhole of Hueco Mundo; she was being dragged back there, to serve Aizen all over again, and waste another few hundred years of her life. As Grimmjow stepped out onto the plain white sand desert of Hueco Mundo, a familiar, suffocating feeling of despair enveloped Mercedes. Maybe it was crazy to think of despair as familiar, but as a hollow, it was the feeling she had practically grown up on.

She knew that it took almost four days to reach the gates of Las Noches, but things could change when you had an Espada who was ridiculously proficient in Sonido to carry you across.

Four hours later, the redhead was kneeling before Aizen, begging for her life for the second time that day.

Aizen had congratulated Grimmjow, of all the damn things to do, Mercedes thought, gritting her teeth. Then he'd moved on to her. The look in his brown eyes was beyond scary, it was terrifying. Cold, hard and manipulative, with no regard for anyone but himself.

"Give me one reason," he had practically roared at her. It was the first time that she, or any other arrancar had seen him lose his temper. "Give me one reason that I shouldn't kill you, you traitorous piece of trash, give me one reason, Mercedes Ledoux!" He then turned to his subordinate, the equally horrifying Gin Ichimaru, and said in tones that only her canine hearing could pick up, "This is why I detest the Privaron. They think that just because I didn't create them, that they can go and be as gutsy as this one. They are filth, Gin. Absolute filth."

"Aizen-sama," Grimmjow interjected, "She could be of some use."

Aizen turned, and regarded the Sexta calmly, his usual composure regained. "And how is that, Grimmjow?" Obviously, Mercedes thought, Grimmjow was too thick to pick up on the steely glint in Aizen's eyes, or maybe he just didn't care, because he went on,

"She's a decent fighter when she's not as banged up as she is now. If you need a foot soldier—"

Aizen cut in, "Yes, we know she's a good fighter, it's just, can we trust her?" He cast his gaze to Mercedes, "Can we trust you, Mercedes?"

Mercedes looked up through the curtain of red hair that was obscuring her face, and clawed it away hurriedly, onyx eyes wide at the thought of survival, the thing she wanted most at the moment, and when Mercedes knew what she wanted, she would use any and all means to get it. She was not above flattery, "Aizen-sama, I beg for your forgiveness, I made a horrible mistake, thinking I was strong enough to oppose you. I served you, faithfully, I may add, for many years. I beg of you, a second chance. It was only a lapse of judgment that made me oppose you."

A slow, steely smile began to spread across Aizen's lips, never meeting his eyes, "Very well," he said, his eyes boring holes into her head, "You have convinced me. And I'm sure there's some Espada in need of Fraccion, yes?"

"Oh, yes, Aizen-sama! Of course…" a fraccion, she added silently to herself. A lowly numeros? She looked at Aizen, questioningly.

"Actually," he mused, exchanging looks with Gin, and glancing at Grimmjow, "There's somebody in this room right now, who is in dire need of fraccion."

When Mercedes saw who he was looking at, she paled. Her black eyes bulged out, and she opened her mouth slightly, to protest, but then thought better of it and closed it quickly. She looked over at Grimmjow, whose teeth and fists were clenched.

"Fine." He growled, and glared down at the redhead. "I'll take the bitch."

So that was it! I hope you liked it.

I have a feeling that I might get questions about how I used the little thingy about being immortal at the top- it's because as an Espada, Mercedes' aspect of death was pride. She basically thought she was better than everyone, and that nobody could kill her. So basically, she considered herself as immortal. And those, I guess, are her thoughts. And the song lyrics I used in the beginning were Wish You Were Here by Avril Lavigne. Who I don't really like that much, but the song is quite interesting :] Please review if you liked it, I really wanna hear y'alls thoughts on this!

Coming Up:

Mercedes is taken to Grimmjow's rooms, a meeting commences between the Espada, and invaders are spotted in the deserts of Hueco Mundo~