WARNING:

This fic is dark. It is very dark. It was written on a request for angst, and believe me, it has enough to go around. If you like happy endings… yeah, go read something else. Like, right now. I'm an Espada; I make enough people cry already. I don't need your name on the list, capisce?

DISCLAIMER:

Bleach is not mine. Bleach is Tite Kubo's in this world, where it is merely fiction, and I have to say he did pretty well. Even got our names (mostly) right.

THANKS!:

This fic would not have been written at all without the immense help of Rayna Lissesul. She helped me out a lot by writing in a huge chunk of text that I couldn't figure out, and giving me ideas, plus beta-ing this story. I highly recommend her stories; seriously, go look her up. Go on. Shoo. I'll wait. …Thanks, Rayna-sensei/kohai.

Also, thanks to bleedblackwalz for the request/prompt. My sincere apologies that it's so late…

FOR CERTAIN

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It was morning in Las Noches. The halls were quiet only because it was so early; the cooks in the cafeteria were just arriving, the last night-shift janitor had gone home to roost, and Aizen was whacking Gin's head because it was in the place where he usually kept his alarm clock—now, of course, blaring at high volume.

The only other particularly loud sound in Las Noches that morning came from the domain of the second Espada, Halibel. However, it was of a slightly more... organic nature.

"Sun-Sun?! Hey, are you alright in there?" Mila Rose leaned against the bathroom door, knocking softly in response to the retching sounds coming from the other side. "What's wrong?"

"That's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

Mila Rose looked up to find Apache, still in her pajamas, glaring from the door of her room.

"It is?"

"She's sick. Big deal; it'll pass." Apache gave a quick shrug and went to stand by the door, forming a two-person line. The door opened to reveal Sun-Sun.

"Yeesh, you look awful," said Mila Rose. She placed one palm across Sun-Sun's forehead. "You don't have a fever... something you ate, maybe?"

"I haven't had anything out of the ordinary," she murmured. "I'm sure it's just... stress. It would have to be." There was a strange light in her eyes that neither of the other girls could quite identify. Sun-Sun began walking back to her room, a little bit unsteady on her feet. "I think I need to stay home today," she explained, shutting the door.

The other two stared after her, dubious, for a good forty seconds. Then Apache grinned.

"I get first shower!"

"You do not!!"

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"Yeeeeeeeeeees?" Szayel allowed the door to his lab to creak open, making sure his visitor got the full effect of his "mad scientist mojo", as the Internet quiz had put it. He smiled menacingly, all his nice white teeth showing, and felt an ego boost that he had in fact just terrified...

...Sun-Sun, one of Halibel's Fraccion.

Oops...

"Please come in. You saw nothing." She nodded and followed him into the lab, where, from there, he led her into an examining room. "I'm assuming you're in need of medical assistance, is that right?" She gave another small nod. "Alright, then... what's wrong?"

"W-Well... I was, um, curious about something. Can Arrancar, um... you know..."

"No, no I do not." Szayel heaved a sigh and began preparations for a few tests. "But why don't we just see if we can find out, alright? What are your symptoms?"

"Well, I'm sick to my stomach..." She paused. "And, um..."

"You have to talk to me," Szayel encouraged. "I can't read minds, you know. Well, considering my new invention that's not technically true, but it's still untested..." He shook his head. "Anyway, the point is that you need to talk to me. What else is going on?"

"Um..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "W-Well, I kind of... am late. On, you know..."

"No, I don't—oh. Right." He nodded slightly as the girl began to blush. "Okay. Well. I will begin researching those symptoms as soon as I get these tests done." He drew a few vials of blood and sent her on her way, pulling out his Big Book of Diagnoses, a Christmas present from Ilfort. What luck; he'd just been getting bored. He should have the diagnosis in no time, flat, though.

Hopefully it was something good...

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There was a soft fssshhhh sound as the door to Luppi's room slid over the carpet.

"Hello?"

"I'm in here," he called. She liked that. He was so closed to other people, always behind a façade. But with her, Luppi was open. He was sweet, in a way that would get him in trouble should the other Arrancar—and especially the Espada—see any trace of it, any trace at all. A lot less flamboyant, and a little more quiet. Like she was.

"Hello, Sun-Sun." Luppi glanced up at her from the floor of his domain, where his head poked out from under a semi-couch. The legs on one side were sawed off, and Luppi was working on the other side; sawdust peppered his hair, sticking to his uniform. "I would have come to meet you, but I'm a little pinned. Should I try to get up, it would damage the underparts of the couch..." He gave a small shrug. "Heck if I know how I'll get out of this. Little help?"

"Yes, of course." She paused. "What do I do?"

"Just hold the sawed-off end level with the intact one..." He sighed in relief as she lifted the heavy couch from his abdomen. "...So I can wriggle out. Thank you, Sun-Sun." He stood and smiled, pulling her into his arms. They shared a quick kiss; his smile widened. "I haven't seen you in a while," he murmured, "and something's off about your reiatsu… Have you been sick, or something?"

She smiled at the tinge of worry in his voice that only she would ever hear.

"No, I'm… I'm alright," she said. "It's just a stomach flu. Probably, I'll be back to normal in—ah!" She yelped when he picked her up, carrying her into the bedroom and tucking them both in.

"You should be resting, then," he admonished, chuckling when her face flushed at his words. "After all, my dearest, I couldn't go on if something should happen to you."

He made her feel so far above the dark nights and garishly-contrasting white sands when he spoke like that. Like—what was the human expression? Like she weighed nothing… On Cloud Nine, she thought, smiling against his slender chest as he gently stroked her back. He was always so very, heartbreakingly gentle. She might as well have been made of spun glass. That night, she lay next to him in his smooth white-percale sheets and smiled: this was where she belonged; this was who she belonged to.

And then, the next evening, he was gone.

It was a cold shock, at first. As if someone had thrown freezing water all over her; she could barely breathe. She was barely conscious of her own steps, her detached mind recalling that Szayel would be discussing her test results with her today, and that she needed to go to his lab.

Body and mind completely numb, she made her way to the scientist's lab in what seemed to be no time at all. She sat in a hard, easy-to-clean plastic chair and barely listened when he told her what she had, on some level, known all along.

"I've run the tests three times, just to be totally sure." His small semblance of a bedside manner allowed him to smile at her. "You're pregnant, Sun-Sun."

The words rang over and over again in her head as she wandered around Las Noches aimlessly, looking half dead. She knew in some part of her mind that her face was drawn and ashen, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, and people were staring; but there was nothing she could do.

Szayel had, of course, gone on to prattle about some 'what to expect when expecting' mumbo-jumbo, scheduling her for a long series of appointments and procedures, but she hadn't listened. It had been impossible; the words were faint and distorted, barely recognizable as Japanese. It was as if someone had filled her head with cotton.

Instead, she had thought about the one person she had wanted to share this with… no longer being there. Gone literally in a flash, or so her comrades told her. "I was asked to clean it up," said one of the younger janitors. She wished she hadn't overheard him. "Blood everywhere. There were even a few spots on the ceiling. And scorch marks two inches wide…"

She tried to imagine his bed, his domain, empty, his presence no longer there. She tried to imagine what it would be like waking up without him. She tried to imagine spending the rest of her life alone…

It didn't work.

In every memory, he walked in, smiling. In every memory, he held her close, gently, as if she were made of spun glass. He was there, alive, warm, breathing, heart beating. He smiled his gentle smile and everything was alright. She was aware of a faint scent of his cologne, accompanied by the soft feeling of sawdust on the carpet under her bare feet.

"No, no, no," Sun-Sun muttered, raising a hand and covering her face. This could not be happening; wasn't it bad enough already? "Stop it. He's gone. Quit making me remember…"

In her mind's eye, he stroked her face, smiling and breathing, "I love you."

"Stop it…"

He embraced her, kissing her gently, deeply, passionately. His hands stroked her back, working out the knots and kinks. They were warm against the fabric of her uniform… but Sun-Sun's own hands were ice-cold.

"Stop it."

He held her close, surrounding her with his essence. "I'll always protect you…"

"STOP IT!!" Sun-Sun screamed, dropping to her knees and sobbing, "Just stop it!! Stop all of it!! Damn it, he's gone! Quit… making me remember..." She hugged herself tightly, her mind making her imagine his arms instead of her own. "Please… just stop…"

But they just kept coming. One after another, memories surfaced, making her relive their time together over and over. And each one was tinted bitter with the cold knowledge that he was never coming back.

She couldn't take it.

"Have to stop it…" Sun-Sun jumped to her feet, walking down the hall briskly, muttering to herself, "Have to make them all stop. Have to erase them all."

Several times, Sun-Sun had heard Apache say, "When you're fighting, your mind is completely wiped of everything else. Nothing else exists but you and the enemy." She'd always said this with a seemingly stupid lopsided grin, flinching every other word as Mila Rose dabbed alcohol on her wounds. "The world could turn to ashes under your feet, and it wouldn't matter," she'd grinned.

Sun-Sun hadn't really ever noticed, but the thought seemed logical.

"It's worth a try…" She muttered, walking into the Fraccions' training arena. At this point, she'd take anyone's advice.

She stayed for hours, battling long and hard, fighting anyone who would challenge her; even when three others came at her as one, she didn't flinch. When the memories kept coming, though, she got desperate. The only way, she thought suddenly, was to soak them in her blood; she definitely was not hurting enough yet for the memories to wash away.

"Weaklings!" She shouted, glaring at all of them, "You call this a challenge?! All of you! Come at me right now!!"

And they came.

It was… pure bliss.

Her mind was blank, all memories gone, and she couldn't for the life of her remember what she had been trying to forget. For the first time that day, her heart was free… completely clean of those awful bitter memories. The rhythm of battle hummed through her, harmonizing with her racing pulse, complimenting the staccato clink of weapons and the loud clash of metal on metal. She saw sparks.

Then, a sharp pain ripped through her stomach, dropping her to one knee. There was no time to dodge the multiple blows coming at her; she tried not to flinch. Merciful… she thought, lowering her head. At last, mercy… But the blows never fell.

"That is enough."

Sun-Sun looked up, eyes wide in horror. "Lady Halibel…"

Her Espada and her fellow Fraccion stood between her and the still battle-anxious crowd.

"You all may leave now," Halibel muttered, voice low and dangerous.

Within seconds, only the four of them were in the room.

"Mila Rose, Apache." Halibel turned to her Fraccion, nodding. "Go tell Szayel about this, please." When they nodded and disappeared in a flash, the Espada turned and picked up her third Fraccion. "Come, Sun-Sun."

She nodded, wincing at the motion of being carried and gritting her teeth. "How long…?"

"By the time someone brought this to my attention," Halibel replied, "You'd been gone for several hours. Is there something I should know, Sun-Sun?"

Her mind felt clear, emotions sharp and pure. Finally. She took a ragged breath and remembered the appointment Szayel had scheduled her for, still a few days away. Would she—could she—keep this a secret somehow? Keep it from everyone, forever? Resign to save her rank, leave Las Noches for good and raise her child?…

She'd be damned if she didn't try.

"No, ma'am."

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Szayel was waiting for them when they arrived at his lab; Sun-Sun caught a glimpse of Apache and Mila Rose when they passed the waiting room. Her mind had been hazing out everything but the battle; now the pain of her wounds flooded in, making her whimper through tightly clenched teeth.

She barely felt the slight sting of the needle when Szayel fixed a heparin lock to the back of her hand, keeping her eyes shut tight until the medication he injected through it began to take effect. Szayel seemed to notice when that happened, because he began to speak.

"So…" There was a distinct hint of reproach to the man's voice. "Care to tell me why you're in such a hurry to end this pregnancy, Sun-Sun?"

She felt all the blood drain from her face, cell by cell, until she knew her skin was a chalky white. Her vision blurred a little, and she realized when the scalding-hot tears hit her face that she was beginning to sob. "What… what do you mean?" she choked. "I'd never…"

He cut her off. "Then why did you endanger yourself like that?! You could have been killed—and if it isn't dead already, your baby is awfully close! We're prepping you for surgery right now to try and save the both of you…" his expression wasn't hopeful. "We'll do everything we can. I promise."

In some deep, far corner of her mind, Sun-Sun mused that Szayel was being very courteous. His bedside manner usually was nowhere near this good. But she didn't have time to dwell on the thought; he was still speaking, and she had to listen. It was important.

"You don't have a very good chance, here, Sun-Sun. You're losing a lot of blood from that wound; and you're losing it under your skin, where it can do a huge amount of damage." He heaved a sigh. "Look… you'll be out in a few minutes, alright? But I want to know now. You will lose your rank, your uniform, and your powers if you go through with this. Your Zanpaku-to will be destroyed. I can try to sneak you out of here; but there are no guarantees. Do you still want me to try to save both of you? Because that is what will happen if someone finds out."

She looked up at him, eyes wide in horror. Somewhere deep in her mind or soul, she couldn't tell which, Anaconda let out a low, whimpering, pleading hiss. It nearly broke Sun-Sun's heart. "My… Zanpaku-to?"

"Yes. As I said, I will try and sneak you out if you wish. We can get you out in a body bag while you're still asleep. But, if you're caught…" He trailed off.

Sun-Sun nodded, her eyes on her still-flat abdomen, marred by a deep wound from someone's blade. "I understand."

"And, your decision?"

"Please… save us both," she whispered, afraid her voice might break. "He… he didn't have his rank or his powers, in the end. I would rather sacrifice them… and have this child." She felt the tears begin to come harder, heard Szayel chide her about not crying because her throat would swell, and should they have to intubate… She nodded again to show she understood, dabbing at her eyes and glancing out the door to the waiting room.

Apache, Mila Rose, and Halibel sat in the three chairs farthest from the door, talking quietly. She felt a slight twinge of guilt at the fact that she'd be leaving them without saying goodbye.

But there was another feeling, one of complete peace, that came over her as she slowly lost consciousness. Sun-Sun knew the feeling well: the last thing she could remember of Las Noches was the slightly dark, warm scent of Luppi's cologne and the feeling of sawdust on the carpet beneath her feet.

"I'll always protect you…"

Finally, for the first time since his death, the words didn't make her cry. She knew that this was what he would have wanted.