A/N: based off of Ichigo's rescue of Rukia from the Soul Society. I haven't finished this part yet, but I was dying to write this little scene, so forgive me for inaccuracies. This is supposed to be after they return to the human world together. Enjoy.

A/N: don't you just love the badassery in this show? I can't even deal with it. And i love the ships, of course.

Title: there is no debt

Summary: For you, this is nothing. / They live in the aftermath. –Rukia/Ichigo

.

.

.

She still cries in her sleep, sometimes. He can hear it, the soft sniffle and the way she turns away from him, hoping he won't catch it.

Ichigo closes his eyes, tries to ignore it. But Rukia sees it over and over again in her mind's eye:

She couldn't believe it. After all this time, hours, days, nights, weeks, endless time sitting and staring at the walls of her cell, picturing his face in her mind, reliving those last precious moments when she'd turned her back on him, wondering if he was dead or alive—"Ichigo? Are you there?" she called out in her sleep—he was standing in front of her.

He had battled Ikkaku, Renji, Zaraki—even her own brother!—to come for her. And he was standing there, looking every inch the Death God, breathing life and power. But this was more than any mere Shinigami, she realized with a cold shudder. He'd become an Avenger. Something more passionate and fierce by far than her dear brother's cold disposition.

He stood, got out of bed, came near her.

"Idiot," she spat, when he came close.

Now his face screwed up in pain, when before (in her mind's eye, he was soaked, bathed, christened in blood) he had been standing carelessly by. He asked:

"What do you mean?"

She did not hesitate to scold him, standing there in the World of the Living, looking no different from any other human girl. But she was not human.

"I left you on here for a reason!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking a little.

"I left so you wouldn't have to do this, none of this, anymore!" Now she was shaking, and her face was red with anger.

"But you went—you went to Soul Society! And for what?" Her palms were up and open, shaking. Shaking and so white.

Ichigo's face was dull against her cries. He understood her so well now, he thought—and Rukia could practically see him thinking those thoughts.

You fool—! She wanted to weep with frustration. I gave up everything so you didn't have to!

"For you," he answered her question quietly. "I went for you."

But she was seeing him in blood and gore—not the glory he wanted her to see!—she was seeing bandages and bandages, miles of bandages around this body that she had tried so hard to protect. She was glad she didn't see many of his battles; just idea was enough to make her sick.

She hardened her eyes against him, her hero. "I never asked for that. I never asked you to sacrifice for me."

"I owed you, for helping me save my family," he said, though the words sounded hollow. I owed you, Rukia. I owed life to you.

But she was shaking her head. "You owed me your life. Not mine. You owed it to me to live your human life to the fullest."

Ichigo stared at her bright eyes. Her skin was almost sallow, and her body was thin as a wisp. She seemed not to have recovered. Yet she was addressing him with all the strength and fortitude her spirit ever had.

This is why Renji fought me so hard, he thought, trying to picture her as a child. But this image would not come to him. Rukia was too much for childhood, somehow. And although he would never admit it, she seemed infinitely old to him, though he could remember teasing her and mocking her as easily as his classmates.

Now she bowed her head, looking at the ground. "I could never atone for this. I could never repay you."

But at that, Ichigo cried, "Is that what this is? Keeping score?" He rushed forward, grabbed the front of her clothes. He even jerked her a little, saw the light in her eyes flare again. Good.

"Are we supposed to be bartering lives back and forth? Is that what we are to each other, Rukia?"

She tilted her head back, bared her throat—she couldn't bear to look at him. "You made it this way, Ichigo!" she said. "You decided to 'pay me back'! But I tell you, there is no debt! There never was a debt between us—so you never had to come for me!"

Now she squeezed her eyes shut against tears. "I am not worth this much effort—but you are!"

Ichigo stared hard at her for what felt like years before letting her go. He felt so dissatisfied, but what had he expected? What did he think she would say after he scaled the castle walls and came into her tower? Did he think she would leap into his arms like the grateful princess? She wasn't used to being the princess in the tower, waiting for the knight to rescue her. She was a warrior, not a captive. And he was just a human boy, he had no steed, he had no armor! He was just there, for her, because he knew he needed to.

"For you, this was nothing." The words dropped between them heavy as a stone. Ichigo met her eyes again (was it his imagination, or did she seem startled? Was she actually—blushing?) and added: "And I'd do it again if I had to. So just get over it and thank me or something."

Rukia stared at the boy who had become a Shinigami—then one of the most powerful Shinigami she had ever known. But she wasn't thinking of that. She was thinking of his overly human face and skin and bones and how fragile he still was, though he didn't realize it. And even more fragility was inside him, where he was begging her to accept his sacrifice.

If this is what you need, Ichigo, I will. For you, this is nothing.

"Thank you," she murmured.

.

.

fin.

A/N: thanks, folks! Read 'n Review, y'aaallll, it helps me out.