Rivulets of sand cascaded in the silver light of the moon from the careful footsteps of the one who patrolled the silent landscape. He crouched low and scanned the night, blue eye cold in the silver glint, their intensity sharpened by thin lines of matching colour just below his lashes. Something moved in the tranquillity far away, but it did so on four legs with tongue lolling from its maw. Just lowly hollow. Nothing to concern him.

A sharp cry brought his attention back the way he'd come. The dull glow of flame was masked behind pale canvass but the tent still stood out like a beacon in the silent night.

He was there in an instant, though he felt no sign of enemy reatsu, he could still feel her spiritual pressure fluctuating, her heart racing and-

A fourth voice.

He knew only three occupied the tent.

"What are you doing in there?"

At once, all three souls inside tensed. He felt their energy turn from joy to panic. They were up to something and they didn't want him to find out. Well too bad. He already had a hand on the curtain when he heard the electronically distorted voice call out.

That voice! Is that-

Canvas tore back, the blue haired man was already seething when found himself face to face with the two human teens.

"That voice! Kurosaki! You bastard you're in there aren't you?"

He had a second to glimpse the warm interior of the tent. Still he saw nothing but the three, the old soul reaper was blocking a second source of light with his body. Then the curtained door shut again and he knew they'd used spiritual devices to keep him out.

"You sons of bitches!" He screamed at the canvas wall that to him were as impenetrable as the walls of Las Noches. That damn soul reaper knew his tricks, and there was no way for the last espada to get at any of them.

"Shit." He moved back from the tent in anger, not bothering to keep listening. He knew what he'd heard, but he also knew what he felt, and if Ichigo Kurosaki were really here, he'd know it to his very core.

"Grimmjow."

He looked back to the tent. The doors were still shut but the old man now stood before them. He kept his distance, as if expecting an attack after the incident. Grimmjow decided not to discourage the thought, and kept a hand on the hilt of Pantera as he turned to face him.

"Urahara. What the Hell?"

"Kurosaki was not here."

"Then why did I hear him?"

"It was a communication device." Blue eyes cut to slits as if he didn't believe him. "I assure you, he was not here."

"You aren't reneging on our deal, are you old man?"

"No, I promise. I'll arrange for a rematch between the two of you. You can even use my basement, it's very spacious. But until then, you only use that sword to help us, not to fight us."

"Yeah yeah, I know." He let his hand slide from the handle but looked past Urahara to the spiritually sealed door of the tent. "You don't trust me very much, do you?"

He tilted the striped hat he wore, deepening the shadows around his eyes. "Should I?"

Sharp canines glinted in his grin. "No. But I will keep to my word, so long as you keep to yours."

"Right."

"'Cause it's you I'll come after if something happens to Kurosaki before we get our fight."

"Of course." There was no fear in the Soul Reaper and he turned his back. "Have a good night, Grimmjow."

The door sealed tight at his back as he stepped back into the warmth.

"Are you sure he has to stay out there?" Orihime looked to Kisuke from where she unrolled her sleeping bag. "It can get cold in that wind."

"He's from this world, Orhime, he's used to it. Besides, you of all people, should know how dangerous he is. Even if he says he'll work with us for now, remember why he's doing it."

She quieted. Two years ago he'd brought her to Ichigo's lifeless body for the same reason. Though he'd given her the opportunity to restore Ichigo's life, he'd only done so in order to rip it away himself.

"Okay." She lay down next to the fire and shut her eyes.

"Those idiots." Grimmjow muttered again, shaking black blood from his blade. Three hollows had already been drawn to the tent. But he saw the fire light dim now, Urahara wasn't entirely stupid, he knew Grimmjow wouldn't spend all his time watching their backs. He felt out for other threats but the hollow population was so diminished he didn't expect to see another soul for hours. He was frankly surprised even three had ventured into the open sands when they knew what was out there waiting to cut them down.

And it wasn't him.

He took his usual post, close enough to the tent to reach it within seconds, but far enough he wasn't distracted by their spiritual pressures. Even if he went to sleep, he remained aware of the spirits around him. Sitting atop a dune, he rested Pantera on his knees and scanned the sea of sand. A breeze blew grains against his exposed torso but he hardly felt it- partly because he was used to it, partly because a large band of scar tissue remained without feeling even after it had healed.

His constant reminder of the man he craved to kill.

Muscles grew slack, breathing slowed, Grimmjow let his head drop, but his ears and spirit always open, even in the dream realm.

Then he felt it.

He was on his feet and had sword in hand in an instant. He'd been asleep less than an hour, the night was still, but the air vibrated with an oncoming force. No matter where he looked, however, he saw no sign of the creature.

Leathery wings flapped past his ear, he flinched at the unexpected noise and ducked back from the small flying creatures that arched past him. They landed on square shoulders. The man had arrived without even a whisper of a sound.

"What the Hell are those?" Grimmjow recognized the white uniform, the smug grin, of all Vandenreich soldiers. He even knew by his power, this was a Stern Ritter, but he had never seen the little rodent like creatures perched on the man's shoulders.

"These are my associates." He smiled at the bats that launched off of him again and hovered in the air above them. Grimmjow watched them suspiciously but turned back to the pale skinned man before him.

"So. Which one are you?" He'd killed one Stern Ritter to date and it had been much more difficult than Kirge, but he wasn't going to let any apprehensions show to the enemy.

"V." The man stated shortly, his voice low and a look in his eyes more like hunger than malice. Grimmjow waited for him to elaborate but instead the question was returned to him. "You are the uncaptured espada?"

"Uncaptured?" Grimmjow's eyes narrowed. He only knew of one other who had survived Aizen's absolute failure and he hadn't seen her in weeks. "The hell does that mean?"

"Number six, Grimmjow, right? What a shame, you won't be taken alive. I'm just a little too hungry."

Grimmjow took his stance and grit his teeth. These guys were messed up, but had this one just threatened to eat him?

"Screw you." He lunged. The Stern Ritter vanished. "Shit." He turned into the blow, sparks flying between Pantera and his blade. The strike put him off kilter, he stumbled in the sand and barely dodged a second swipe.

"You are faster than I expected." The man mused, looking at Grimmjow like a child playing with his meal. "But not fast enough."

A hot line burned through Grimmjow's back across his shoulders. He staggered from the bone deep blow, hesitating to move and find his spine had been cut through. Despite the pain, everything still moved, so he straightened and tore his jacket the rest of the way off. When he looked up to the enemy again, he froze. A long tongue was licking up the blood smeared on his blade. Cold black eyes shut as he relished in Grimmjow's blood.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?"

"Mmm. Delicious. Enough appetizers, I'm ready for the main course."

"No way." Grimmjow raised his sword but his hand came to a dead stop on the air. Cold fingers held his wrist in a vice grip. He only just glanced the second bat transforming into a man behind him before his right arm was also caught. "Bastards!"

"I told you, they were my associates." The Vandenreich warned. The thin faced twins who'd just transformed from bats to men, had him in an iron grip. The one to his left twisted his wrist near the point of breaking until Pantera was forced from his hand. Their master strode forward, eyes raking over his prey. "I am Stern Ritter V." He smiled, and now, seeing him straight on, Grimmjow saw the elongated canines and their razor sharp points.

"No friggin' way." He jerked in the hold but sudden hot pain stopped him. On either side, the beast-like vandenreich had bit into the flesh at his wrists. Crimson dripped thick onto the sands beneath them, and for a moment Grimmjow didn't struggle, shock slowing his system as the circulation of his blood was forced in the wrong direction and into hungry mouths. Then he let out a bellow and gave it everything he had to escape the deadly hold.

"Good bye, espada number six." He'd let himself get distracted and next thing a cold hand was pressed into his back, the other forcing his head to one side.

"Son of a-" Ivory sunk deep past soft tissue and delicate cartilage. The pain in his wrists disappeared in the wake of this paralysing onslaught at his neck. A cry died in his throat, the black washed sky darkened despite the moon and incredible pain built in his chest. Head and limbs started to feel lighter and warm, the only thing that told him gravity still held sway was the growing pressure at his back where the Vandenriech's hand held tighter to his prey to keep him from collapsing.

"GRIMMJOW!"

Her call brought him back from the hungry claws of sleep. His head fell back limply when it was released, and he caught a glimpse of the bloodstained mouth of his captor, eyes now aflame with energy and power- his energy and power. Yet still a hunger lingered as he looked over his current victim to the girl and two men standing in the sand.

"You were supposed to wait your turn." He scolded. "Oh well. You two," he turned to his subordinates, "finish him."

Grimmjow hit the sand when the hand lifted from his back. He lost sight of Urahara and the humans, the landscape around him just a nauseating swirl. The sharp squelch of sucking mouths brought his attention back to his side, where the lesser vandenreich still drank from his wrist with a lust and hunger that would soon drain the espada completely.

The noise of battle was faint to the thrumming in his ears. Black crept into his eyes, he was going to die on his back, a meal to twin freaks.

Shit.

Sand blasted over them in the wake of hot power. One of the twins rolled away in pain, freeing one wrist. The second kept his hands on his victim but sat up, relieving the pain and pressure for one moment.

One moment was all Grimmjow needed.

The creature to his left crumpled with the snap of his spinal cord. Grimmjow knelt over his body, chest heaving, the world still spinning. He heard a cry of anguish from the second and knew the attack was coming but when he reached for Pantera his fingers missed, striking sand. His vision rippled as violently as a tempestuous sea, and his hands were weak from the wounds in his wrists.

He fell back when the weight landed on him, even the sand beneath him felt like it was moving. But he saw his attacker lung forward, knew he was going for his neck, and turned his head in time that forehead met the solid bone of his hollow mask. An infuriated cry ripped from the vandenreich who seemed incapable of speech and it hissed at him, clutching him around the throat and hauling him up.

He hung in the grasp, catching sight of yellow light not far. Orhime had her shield up or else she was attacking. Three against one Stern Ritter, but the odds were still not favourable, especially now that the Vandenreich had half Grimmjow's strength on top of his own.

But the battle was lost to him once more and Grimmjow lurched as shorter fangs dug into the already torn flesh of his neck.

It was a mistake.

Blood slicked fingers reached up and took hold of either side of the anrimal's head, and he met the same fate as his twin. He saw no sign of blutt in these two, they would not be coming back.

Still, as he crawled forward, sand clung to bloody palms, the desert undulated under his fingers and he couldn't for the life of him get his hands around Pantera's hilt.

Until he heard her scream.

The night turned still. Waves of silver and black calmed slightly. He picked up his sword and stood.

Stern Ritter V had her around the throat, drawing her into him, inch by inch, her comrades on their backs in the sand.

"B-bast-tard."

He staggered forward like a drunken pirate on the deck of ship caught in a hurricane. Each step threatened to throw him into the waiting waves, but he managed forward, some warrior instinct keeping him afloat.

Dark eyes met him, then glanced beyond to see his fallen subordinates.

"Impressive. But you can't save her. Her powers are too tantalizing to pass up." And before Grimmjow could take another step, those deadly canines were in her neck, her whole body spasmed and crimson leaked down to stain her rose coloured shirt.

Grimmjow stopped moving and took his sword, running his hand along the blade, "Grind, Pantera!"

Nothing happened. He had lost too much power and strength to attain his Resurrection form. Twice the anger now flooded him as he looked upon the sickening creature deep in the throes of his hunger.

He only broke away from the girl when Grimmjow was practically on him. He let her drop- she was still conscious, he hadn't drained her like he had Grimmjow, but her skin was still pale and every inch of her shook. Grimmjow's bloodied wrist was caught with ease, but the lubricant allowed him to twist away again. He almost fell and his grip on Pantera was faltering, fingers half numb from the damage to his wrists. His opponent watched him, amused, knowing there was no threat.

"I am curious. Why are you with them, espada?"

"None o yer...bus..business..." he swung wild and missed, a cut opened up across his left cheek but it wasn't from the blade, it was from sharp fingers that the Vandenreich now raised to his already reddened lips.

"Huh." Grimmjow gave a weak smile as he watched the other indulge. The Stern Ritter narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"I jus figured it out.."

"What?"

"How I'm gonna kill you."

He dropped his hand from his mouth. "You've lost too much blood. You can't think clearly."

"Nah.." Grimmjow limped a step or two away from Orihime, but turned back to look at her. Amber eyes were wide with fright, she saw the look of hunger and anger in the man at his back and now Grimmjow stood utterly exposed, he'd taken his eyes off of the enemy. She screamed when the creature made its attack, hand wrapping around Grimmjow's stomach and hauling him back against him while the other knotted in his hair and pulled his head to one side. He leaned over Grimmjow's shoulder, heart thundering into his bare back in anticipation of the feed.

"Foolish espada." He whispered. "You can't kill me. And now your life and strength will become mine."

He clamped down on torn flesh. Grimmjow shut his eyes and let out a strained breath, but his fist closed tighter over Pantera and Orihime saw him draw the blade up inch by inch, until the tip was in line with his hollow space.

Grimmjow drove the blade back with both hands, through his hollow hole and into the gut of the man draining him. Blood spewed back out of his mouth and onto Grimmjow- probably most of it was the espada's anyway. He gagged again when Grimmjow pulled Pantera back through the gap and spun while Stern Ritter V was still in shock.

Orihme screamed when his head popped cleanly from his shoulders with one swing of Pantera. A grisly spurt of blood pumped from the torso while it fell, spraying back over silver sands as it collapsed in a heap. Grimmjow stood panting above the form, mustering enough energy to kick the head further from the body before he dropped Pantera.

"Grimmjow." Orhime watched him drop to one knee, he met her eyes for a long second and then his body went as limp as the one behind him and he fell face first into the sand.

So he really saved you then?

"Yes, we're fine, just a few cuts and bruises."

And Orihime?

"I'm Okay Ichigo."

I'm glad.

"Yes, yes. Now Ichigo, tell me what you learned at the Palace of the Soul King."

Right, well...

Voices. Fire. Warmth and soft light. Padded blankets, a pillow. Grimmjow parted his eyes on orange lit canvas draped on a wooden frame. Everything was a fuzzy mix of colours for the few moments while mind and body were drawn back from the brink.

"Grimmjow! Kiskuke, he's awake."

"Sorry Ichigo, looks like I'm going to have to cut this short." The monitored turned back to black before Grimmjow could see the face of the speaker, but he spared little thought for Ichigo when he tried to lift his hands and failed completely.

"Wha..d'you do to me...?" he rolled his head to the side, expecting chains weighing down his wrists but all he found were white bandages. "Huh?"

"Do you remember the fight?" A hand found his chin and rolled his head back so he could see that shadowed face.

"Ura-hara?"

"Yes Grimmjow. You barely survive the night. That Vandenreich nearly killed us all."

He only now caught a hint of bruising creeping out from under the striped brim. In the background Chad wore a sling and to his right Orihime knelt, bandage wound around her neck. Flashes of bright red and dull silver returned to Grimmjow like the trailer for some slasher movie. He remembered her scream and the bloodied fangs of the terrible Stern Ritter.

"...right."

"But you stopped him." Orihime said on his other side.

He just shut his eyes, the room was threatening to spin and a hollow pit in his stomach was quickly turning to nausea. He must have passed out again because when he opened his eyes the faces were gone, though the fire ever crackling. A gust of wind shook the tent just as the doors parted and the soul reaper entered, sheathing his sword.

"Hollow?" Grimmjow rasped the question as his fingers dug into the blankets to try to sit. Kisuke knelt at his side and helped him up.

"Just one. Here." He held up a canteen of water, Grimmjow choked on it, struggling to swallow with the damage to his neck.

"Dammit." He curse and ran a hand over the thick bandages at his throat.

"Orihime will heal you as soon as she can, but she also must recover." Dark eyes shifted sideways and Grimmjow followed them to the sleeping pair. She was still pale where she lay not far from Chad, breaths steady in a deep slumber. Grimmjow nodded his understanding but glanced around the tent meaningfully before turning back to Urahara.

"I thought you didn't trust me."

"Well, these were exceptional circumstances. Besides, after what you did, many of my doubts have been put to rest."

"I was just upholding our deal."

"No, I think it was more than that." Grimmjow ignored the intentional shift of his eyes back to Orihime. Kisuke smiled. "Anyway, you have my trust." He stuck out his hand. Grimmjow watched him for a moment before attempting to take his hand. When his hand failed to respond accordingly Kisuke took it and shook it for them both. "Good."

"This doesn't mean I don't want what you promised." He said, his voice slurring slightly as Kiksuke lowered him back on the sheets.

"Of course. But worry about recovering from this battle, before you starting thinking about another."

"Mm." Grimmjow just grunted, eyes already sagging.

"And who knows. When this war is over, if you'll even still want that."

He got no response, but he watched Grimmjow's head roll to the side, blue eyes resting on Orihime before shutting once more. Kisuke stood, still watching the now unconscious figure.

"Because if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that war changes men. Most for the worse, but a few for the better."

Voila, my inspiration after reading bleach 518! So pumped for Grimmjow to be back! Hoping to see him good in the Manga and that war will in his case, change him for the better!

Thanks,

Riza