I did this for a contest on Deviantart. For a Renji fanclub. Since I'm still working on Not An Act's first chapter, I decided to go ahead and upload this little oneshot. RenjixIchigo. There's just a kiss, but I decided to label it for language and a little for the content of Renji's past trauma. Enjoy! Please don't flame. Reviews and even critiques are welcome, but no flames, or I will blowtorch you back! w

Heaven Forbid

One breath worked its way through burning lungs. Then another. They were shallow, but worst of all, they were existent. The owner of said burning innards groaned, trying to twist onto his side. Renji's red eyes snapped open, staring down at the needle sticking from his arm, something that had stopped him from his endeavor to get more comfortable. An I.V.

Someone had found him before it had worked. Before the slashes running from his wrist halfway down his arm on the tender undersides of his arms had a chance to leak out all of his life giving fluid. His face shifted so that he could peer around the room through his free flowing mane of red hair. When he saw nothing interesting about his room and that, even better, there was no one in it but him, he threw his head back against the pillow, clenching his eyes shut as he sighed, nearly cursing himself aloud.

Too incompetent to even off himself. Maybe Byakuya was right about him after all. She had been waiting for him on the other side, he'd convinced himself, but now she probably realized just how inept he was after watching his botched attempt at suicide. Before another wave of depression could hit him, his door opened, a stranger walking in, staring straight at him before he even got a chance to feign sleep.

Orange hair was the focal point to this being, Renji decided suddenly, giving up all thoughts of faking incoherency when those sharp brown eyes narrowed in warning. When he took a closer look, it didn't even seem that this kid was any older than him. The truth was probably the opposite, actually, if the teenage gangly limbs were anything to go by. Any further evaluations were brought to a screeching halt when all his eyes could suddenly focus on was the rim of a glass that was shoved almost in to his face. He blinked a few times at it, and then peered over the glass, flexing his fingers.

"Don't give me that. You didn't cut that deep, and you've been out long enough for there to be enough strength in those hands to hold a cup of water. Now take it." So the voice matched the body. The words were spoken harshly in what sounded like a tough-guy fashion, but there was almost a relieved undertone there.

Making some small sound of thanks, Renji reached up with both hands, and hesitantly started to move the proffered drink until the boy let go, letting the full weight of it settle onto his hands. His flesh began to prickle around the edges of his wounds, and he could feel things starting to burn on the inside, almost the feeling one got when using strained or pulled muscles. After the first gulp, he realized just how thirsty he was. It was almost like he'd been asleep for days without getting a drink, even if he was getting fluids pumped into him via his I.V.

"Where am I?" He looked back into those brown eyes, eyes that looked like they never softened; eyes that made him think it would be a challenge to even manage a smile out of him at this point.

"Well,' where am' is better than nothing, I guess…Long story short, I found you out in an ally, trying to bleed yourself out, and brought you here. It's a little hospital that my family owns." He sat down in the chair next to Renji's bed, taking the now empty glass and setting it on the bedside table without care. "So, you wanna tell me what happened, Renji?"

"Huh?" Well, that was a shocker. "How do you know my name?"

"You seriously don't remember me?" An agitated sigh followed. "Renji Abarai, you're such an ass. Name's Ichigo Kurasaki. Ring any bells?" One orange eyebrow rose as he watched the redhead, looking for some sign of recognition, and finding none. "Seriously, Renji, I know that I was two years behind you in High School, but still! Before you started following Byakuya's gang around like a little lost puppy, we used to be in the same circle."

Though he made a valiant attempt to remember, Renji just couldn't manage to dredge anything from his memory. There had been a few underclassmen in that old group of his, and one would assume that orange hair like that would stand out, but no one in their little fellowship had been known for being normal looking. Hell, Renji had already had a couple of his tattoos by then, even though now he had a ridiculous amount littering his body. Ichigo passed him another scathing glare, and he thought for a moment there was something familiar about him, but it passed as quickly as it had come.

"Well, anyway, you gonna sit there and stare or tell me why the hell you decided to off yourself?" Ichigo put his hands behind his head, and tilted his chair back until it was balancing hazardously on two legs.

"…You say that you knew me back before I graduated?" Yeah, he'd actually graduated instead of dropping out, figuring he'd been in his last year right about when he joined league with Byakuya, and it wouldn't make sense to waste nearly 12 years of his life to throw it all to the wayside just because he was tired of it. Funny that he had had that kind of thinking then, considering he was in this kid's hospital because he'd tried to commit suicide, which definitely would have been a waste of going on 20 years of his time.

Ichigo's nod encouraged him, and he looked down at the white sheet beneath his bandaged hands. "Then you knew Rukia." The name was barely even whispered, and his eyes closed when his voice threatened to hitch even then. He didn't bother looking up for an answer then. He could practically feel the affirmation coming from the other boy. "Then you probably know about her accident, too."

Rukia had been his best friend growing up. He'd had a pretty tough past, but so had most of the kids they hung out with, so it was nothing he ever bitched about. But that had made Rukia all the more important, since they were the only two to survive it before finding a way into a better part of town, to a better school where he'd supposedly met Ichigo. They'd gotten even closer during that time, while they were making friends slowly but surely with the other kids, and at one point he was getting the courage up to ask her out. It had been surprising for him that it wasn't an easy thing to do, because he was usually loud and forthright with his feelings, but with her, at least on that subject, it was different.

One afternoon, not long before the winter break to their Senior year, right around when Byakuya began to bother both of them to join his gang, Renji had finally made himself ask Rukia to meet him after classes at a little café they would sometimes frequent if neither was too busy or had a kind of club meeting. He'd been so anxious, he'd been standing outside at the corner, waiting for her, and when he saw her across the street, he called and waved to her. A big mistake. The crosswalk light had been green when Rukia waved back, but the moment she stepped foot on the road, it started to blink the warning not to cross. She obviously didn't see that. One car decided to jump out of its stop and start speeding down the road. The driver had told the police that he simply had not seen the running girl. And boy did Renji wish he could have claimed the same, but he remembered exactly how her face looked when the car caught her in the side. He remembered how she seemed to hover mid-step for a moment, before snapping over in an unnatural position and flying in what looked to him like slow motion dozens of feet away. For a split second, all he could do was stand and stare, the sound of the cars screeching brakes falling on deaf ears, before his wits returned, and he ran to her side, wishing he hadn't. The scene still haunted him, waiting for him in his dreams any night that he didn't intoxicate himself enough on whatever was closest at hand to make him pass out into a dreamless sleep.

After that, he somehow managed to float his way through the rest of the year, teachers never bothering him about how he never said a word in class, or how his work was mostly half-finished, and always half-assed. They gave him enough room for error, allowing him to graduate, even though his grades should have dropped to a point where they threatened to hold him back. A few months after the incident, Byakuya approached him again, stoic as ever, but making it obvious that the offer still stood. He needed a break from his prison of a home, and he needed something to occupy his mind, and so he accepted. Most of the boys he'd made friends with were there when he first arrived, recruited by different people, and looking just as cheerful as he was, but together they slowly began to grow back into something that at least resembled their old selves. Smiles were fake, laughs were forced, but it was still better than bitter and agonizing silence.

Byakuya hadn't been pleased with his "work" from the get go, but he put up with him until he began to grow bored. Because when he started to get bored, his precision, stealth, and care went out the window, and that just pissed people off and almost got him caught any good number of times. It had even gotten to the point where he got beaten a few times for being so stupid on his missions. Yeah, it had been two years since then, but the pain still hadn't gone away yet. He kept waiting for it to at least get better, but it never did. Being with Byakuya only made it worse, seeing as how Byakuya liked rubbing the Rukia incident in his nose. It was actually a week until the anniversary of Rukia's death. That's why he had finally decided to end it. He was just so tired of dealing with life. "Yeah, well, shit's still piling up from that and from that asswipe Byakuya, okay?"

"So that's it? A little hardship comes your way, and you're going to end it? People die, Renji, that doesn't mean you gotta dig yourself into your own grave so willingly." He heard Ichigo snort, a real anger in his voice. There was a clatter that signified all four chair legs were now back on the floor, and the wood creaked, probably meaning the teenage was leaning forwards towards him.

"I got a little drunk, okay?! It's not like it's your business either, Orangey." He had every intention of leaning back and rolling on to the only side his I.V. would allow, but Ichigo obviously had other plans for him. He felt the collar of his little hospital gown get grabbed up into a clenching fist, and felt someone lift him slightly off the bed. Red eyes snapped up to meet a furious brown gaze

"Look at you, you're falling apart! Shit, man, it's not like you can't live without her. Heaven forbid you end up on your own for a little while!" There was a deep biting sarcasm in that last statement from Ichigo. "It's not like there aren't people out there who still care for you, Renji, and I don't mean people like that shithead you follow around like he hung the friggen moon." It looked like there was more he wanted to say.

"Yeah? Who would care about a filthy little street punk like me, huh? No one ever really did before, other than her and 'Kuya!" Even with depleted strength, he had enough left to shout that back at Ichigo, wishing there was enough energy in him to push him out of Ichigo's grasp, but he knew better.

"You're such a blind idiot!" Ichigo shifted, jerking Renji a little into a new position, so that his face was angled up a bit more and his hair was falling out of the way. It was now a veil on either side of his face, revealing his shock and anger filled eyes, his tattoos, and Ichigo's destination.

He'd braced himself for a tongue lashing, but he should have been preparing for a little bit of a different meaning to that phrase. There were suddenly lips against his. They were slightly chapped, but he really didn't get time to assess them before there was a tongue sliding across his bottom lip. When he let out a soft gasp of surprise, it pushed into his mouth. Ichigo's grip on his only article of clothing didn't allow him really any means of escape.

Before he could even get over his initial shock and really figure out what was happening, Ichigo had backed off a little, allowing them both space enough to breath, but little more. "Didn't you ever notice why I always tried to hang out with you? Or why Rukia was always trying to get you to go on a boy's only outing after school?" Ichigo's touch almost seemed to get softer. "Or are you even stupider than I thought?" And suddenly did remember than little snot of a sophomore trying to follow him around after school, one of the few in his old group that tried to talk him out of joining Byakuya's troop before he said his final farewells.

"I guess I…uh-" There was a hand caressing his jaw gently that began to distract his already befuddled mind.

"-was a little more dense than anyone ever gave you credit for." Then those lips were on his again, but this time he really didn't feel like trying to pull away. Maybe this was that distraction he'd been looking for before…