They weren't entirely sure how they survived. They should have been dead. But somehow, by some miracle, they weren't. So, they dragged themselves back to Hueco Mundo, to heal. And slowly made their way back to Los Noches as they healed, needing to be back with their King.
By the time they were fully healed and arrived, Los Noches was in ruins. Or close to it. A large hole was in one of the outer walls, giving easy access to the inside. Once inside, they ended at a crossroads they knew well. One led to the Octava's palace, on to Noveno's, and one to the Sexta's palace. They took the last route, the one to their King.
It didn't take long before they felt his reiatsu flare, the way it did when he entered resurreccion. It was also clear that he wasn't training. That hurried their pace, because if he was in enough trouble to enter resurreccion then he needed them.
As they hurried along, they could feel fear and desperation tainting Grimmjow's reiatsu. It was something they had never felt before. Not like this. So, they moved faster. Then his reiatsu suddenly dropped as he was forced from resurreccion, becoming dangerously low, before cutting off completely. That had them moving faster than they ever had before.
When they arrived at the scene of the fight, they couldn't get near him. Not without revealing themselves and risk getting killed, or Grimmjow hurt worse, by either the fighting Quinto or the large shinigami captain he was fighting. Or by that Kurosaki boy. But they could see Grimmjow there, bleeding out into the sand. He had one large scar over his chest, and two over his wrists, that they didn't remember him having before. Along with his new injuries that were draining the fluid that gave him life.
Just as suddenly as Grimmjow had gone down, so too had the Quinto. The shinigami captain moved on, and so did Kurosaki as he moved to try to save his woman again. That gave them the chance they needed.
They could feel Szayelaporro's reiatsu rise, then drop sharply.
Yylfordt nearly left. It was only Shawlong who managed to keep him focused.
"We can help him later. Right now, we need to focus on Grimmjow. He's in bad shape." Was the Undecimo's soft murmur. With more soft encouragement, Yylfordt gently lifted Grimmjow to carry him back to the palace.
" 'Long, are ya sure he'll even survive? He's hurt pretty bad." Di Roy asked, gently moving to press a hand and keep pressure on one of Grimmjow's wounds to stop the bleeding.
"We will do what we can. What we must. Then we can at least know that we tried…" Of course, Shawlong himself didn't like to think of what might happen if Grimmjow didn't survive. They would cross that bridge if they got there.
With some soft words from Shawlong, Edrad lifted Nnoitra while Shawlong himself carried Tesla.
Gin would need those two, if he were to survive. So, they would save the Quinto and his fraccion, if they were able.
The inside of the palace was a disaster zone. Grimmjow's claw marks were everywhere, as if he had lost his temper and absolutely trashed it. Every single room, except for their own bedrooms. Where the warmth and scent let them know that he often slept in those rooms, trying to keep their scents with him as long as possible. His original bedroom had also been destroyed.
Due to Shawlong's bedroom having the largest bed, it was there that they placed the injured.
—–
It didn't take long for either Espada, or Tesla, to heal. But that merely brought more problems. They had been foolish, to think that Nnoitra and Grimmjow could coexist in the same palace without some conflict. Hell, no one was even sure what started this one.
"Ya lost like a goddamn idiot to that Kurosaki. And ya destroyed half of Los Noches doin' it! What the hell?" Nnoitra griped.
"Yeah? At least I didn't abandon my lover to go look for a fight like you did. Plus, mine actually survived! 'Sides, my Aspect of Death is Destruction!" Grimmjow growled back.
That broke what little patience Nnoitra had as he swung Santa Teresa at Grimmjow, easily slicing into his flesh and likely giving him a shiny new scar. "Shut. Yer. Trap. If I had known that all of this would have happened, I wouldn't have done it. Get the hell out of my sight, Sexta, 'fore I teach ya the meanin' of Despair, like my Aspect of Death."
Grimmjow took his warning to heart and left the room before the argument could escalate further.
—–
Shawlong gazed sternly at the Sexta. "Kitten, are you an Espada, or a child?" He demanded.
"I'm an Espada, dammit!" Was the expected answer.
"Then start acting like one. Instead of pouting like a child, go and apologize this instant. Nnoitra is difficult on a good day, but as it is right now it is near impossible to deal with him. You know he has been, ever since we found out that Gin died. You just made it worse. So of course, he and Tesla lashed out. So, stop pouting and go apologize. +Now!"
Grimmjow grumbled but moved to do as asked. They would all find a way to move on, eventually.