A bleached Christmas Carol – Part Two: the Ghost of Christmas Past

The large antique clock which resided on the expansive mantelpiece ticked ever closer to midnight. The smallest hand just seconds away from striking twelve; three, two, one. The chime which announced the hour did not stir Grimmjow from his sleep, he was instead awoken by a harsh light filling the room. It filtered through his eyelids, forcing him to open them slowly, lids still heavy with the residues of sleep. He stared bleary eyed through the eerie, pink tinted glow, finding the source after a few moments. He was staring at a pink haired man, ornately framed, silver rimmed glasses perched on his thin, angular nose.

"Who the hell are you?" Grimmjow sat up quickly, the bed sheets pooling around his waist in a crumpled heap.

"I am the ghost of Christmas Past" his voice was smooth, like warm caramel, and had a slightly feminine undertone to it "And I am here to help you mend your ways Grimmjow Jeagerjaques"

"Of course you are. It's just a shame I ain't interested then isn't it?" Grimmjow sunk back to the comfortable mattress, pulling the sheets high over his head so as to cover his tousled blue hair. "Turn the light off on your way out too, pink really isn't my colour!" he squeezed his eyes shut against the pink glow.

He growled quietly when the light persisted to glow through his eyelids, the volume of it rising in his throat when a pair of bony, yet strong hands gripped on to his muscular shoulders. He was hauled out from under the warm sheets, out into the cold of the room. The chill was only made worse by the fact that the panes of the window were pushed up, letting the freezing winter night air in. Grimmjow watched the billowing curtains for a moment, only being brought back to the moment when his teal dressing gown was shoved into his bare chest.

"Put that on, you'll catch a death otherwise!" the pink haired male regarded him with honey coloured eyes.

"Is that supposed to be a joke spirit?" he thrust his arms through the soft, warming fabric, quickly tying the cord around his waist.

"Follow me" he took Grimmjow's wrist and led him over to the open window. He swifly hopped up onto the sill, thin frame now towering above Grimmjow. "You may want to hold on to my sleeve, we don't want you to make a mess in the fresh snow now do we?" he offered the blue haired man his arm and after a moment's hesitation Grimmjow climbed up on the sill and took hold of a fist-full of the crisp white jacket the spirit wore. Three angular black stripes ran vertically down from the front of his neck and changed direction to flow around his left side, the dark pattern was harsh against the white.

Once the fabric was safely clasped in Grimmjow's hand the ghost leaped from the sill in one fluid moment. Grimmjow was jerked along after him, being unprepared for the jump he stumbled from the sill ungracefully, feet slipping in the layer of snow on it. He would never admit to the thoroughly unmanly noise which escaped his lips at the plummeting sensation when he tripped from the window. However after a second or so, which to him felt like a year, he was pulled upwards again. He searched for honey eyes, finding the spirit looking down at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Looking forward to the horizon Grimmjow saw white haze lighting up the sky. "It can't be dawn already... what is that light spirit?"

"That is the past Mr. Jeagerjagues, your past. And please, call me Szayel" the man's voice was strangely relaxing, his words led fluidly into one another in a soft rhythm.

"What?" even the soft tone couldn't calm him from that revelation.

"I am the ghost of Christmas past Grimmjow. What was it that you were expecting? Surely time travel is not out of the question once two ghosts have revealed themselves to you!"

"Of course. Makes sense I guess." Grimmjow felt his stomach performing acrobatics which would score a perfect ten as they were swallowed by the white haze.

Their feet landed on crisp white snow, yet to be imprinted by any footprints. Grimmjow stared at the tempting white blanket, wanting to track his prints all over it. He was distracted by the all-too-familiar building in front of him; his old school. An overly strict boarding school which valued everything he was not. As a child he had been loud and brash, the shock of blue hair a point of endless teasing at unwanted interest.

"Let's go inside shall we?" Szayel spoke quietly, as if he knew he would be interrupting Grimmjow's memories. Without waiting for an answer he took the living man's wrist and led him through the snow, towards an imposing set of oak doors.

Grimmjow's heart jumped as Szayel passed through the door, a sinking feeling accompanied the thought that he himself might not be able to pass through the thick wood. He scrunched his eyes up tight, waiting for the hollow sound of his impact against the door, but it never came. Instead he opened his eyes in a dimly lit foyer. A small head of messy blue hair was infinitely brighter than the candles which provided the lighting, their dynamic orange light dancing on the stone walls. Grimmjow let his mouth fall open at the sight of his younger self, pools of Caribbean Sea were fixed on the wooden door they had just passed through.

A tall, thin man with black hair which sat in spikes on his head passed through the door next to the boy, causing the blue eyes to turn on him.

"Master Grimmjow, I'm afraid Mr. Kuchiki will not be sending anyone to collect you this year. You can take your belongings back up to your room" with that the man walked from the room once more, his steps rapping on the flagstone floor. The young boy shifted his head into his hands, back shaking slowly with silent sobs.

"Is this really necessary spirit? I know my adoptive father was a bastard. You are telling me nothing new!" Grimmjow could not tear his eyes away from his distressed younger self, wishing he could tell the boy not to expect anything other than disappointment from his raven haired 'father'.

"Lets see another Christmas shall we?" with that Szayel waved his hand once, throwing the scene into a blur of people and action. Finally the rushing figures slowed and the blue haired boy was now a lanky teenager, long legs stretched out in front of him as he sat on the same wooden bench in the foyer, staring at the door. His face was angular, handsome and free of the shadows of his older self. He looked almost happy. Grimmjow knew what was coming, and he didn't want to see it again, even the thought of what was to come made his chest too tight.

"Please no spirit, any Christmas but this one! I beg of you!" he tried to leave, turn on his heel and run but was stopped in his tracks by the simultaneous tug of Szayel's hand on his wrist and the flinging open of the wooden doors.

A lean, fairly tall teen stood in the doorway. His orange hair was almost as outrageous as Grimmjow's own, and the brown eyes only increased the tight feeling in Grimmjow's chest. Black trousers hugged his thin legs close, a long trench coat moved around his knees slowly.

"Ichigo" Grimmjow said the man's name even though he knew that he was just a ghost in the scene. The name still felt the same as he said it, the same as it had all those years ago.

"Ichi!" his teenage self rose quickly from the bench, moving to meet the other teen half way and pull him close to his chest. "I'm so glad you came!"

"Why wouldn't I?" mercurial chocolate eyes met the young blue ones, although his smile did not quite touch them. He moved up to press his lips to Grimmjow's in a slow kiss.

"Please can we leave spirit?" Grimmjow begged again as his younger self moved to collect his bags before walking out of the foyer with the orange haired man, hand coiled lightly around his waist.

"Sorry Grimmjow, you need to see" he led the man outside, bringing the teenage couple back into sight once more. The spirit's hand was still clamped around his wrist, imprisoning him in the memory, the nightmare. He looked on; somehow unable to screw his eyelids shut and stand in darkness. He knew he would still be able to hear the scene anyway, so such actions would be futile.

"I have a place we can stay for Christmas, we can get a goose and invite your family" his teen self spoke with a voice dripping with excitement, he was almost dancing on the balls of his feet as he shoved his suitcase into the back of the carriage. White horses shifted restlessly at the front of it, their hooves silenced somewhat by the soft snowfall.

"Grimmjow I-" Ichigo spoke quietly, eyes falling to the floor as his hands wrung worriedly.

"Oh right, we can go to spend Christmas with them then, don't worry about-"

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo placed a finger to the blue haired teen's full lips, silencing him. A determination had arisen in his eyes, as if he'd finally decided on something and needed to act before he changed his mind again. "I wont be spending Christmas with you. I'm sorry."

Grimmjow could only watch on has his younger face fell, shadows rushing in to the once bright features. He tore his eyes away and looked back to the pink haired ghost, who watched on with expressionless mustard eyes.

"Why not? Has my father talked to you? I don't care what that bastard thinks any more, I can make my own money now" his younger self stepped closer to Ichigo, voice rising an octave.

"It's not that Grimmjow, my family want me to marry. I can't tell them the truth, you don't make enough to support both of us, it just wouldn't work!"

"Marry? But-" the blue haired teen could only stare at his lover in shock.

"She's ok actually, her name is-"

"I don't want to know!" Grimmjow could remember the sinking feeling of his heart plummeting to his feet as if it was fresh again as he watched his younger self interrupt the orange haired man. "Please Ichigo. I can support us, the job I will get will pay more than enough money, I'll just work extra hours. Just tell your family-"

"Grimmjow, I can't do that." He raised a hand to blue locks, moving through the soft strands before tracing his fingers down the teen's cheek as if he wanted to remember it. "I love you but I can't do this anymore. It wouldn't be fair."

"Please Ichi, I love you too"

"You did once" Grimmjow's older self felt again the jolt to the heart that came with those words, remembering all the times he had favoured work over meetings with Ichigo, hoping to make enough money to get a house for them both. Instead he had pushed the boy away. His tears matched those rolling down his younger self's cheeks. "Goodbye Grimmjow, live well" he brushed his fingers over his lover's cheek once more before turning and walking away slowly. From this angle Grimmjow could see the sadness on the boy's face, a turmoil that his younger self had never seen.

"Please, no more Szayel" he turned to the ghost, wanting to just get back to his bed and disappear under the sheets. "I've seen more than enough"

"Just one more Christmas" Szayel took his wrist once more, leading him away from his younger self who was climbing numbly into the back of the carriage. They were once again engulfed by the white haze, emerging outside a well decorated set of offices. An excess of Christmas decorations adorned the place. Candle arches illuminated every window and a wreath adorned every black door, a red ribbon forming a lush bow on each one. Inside several trees could be seen in the large foyer, towering above the crowd of people gathered inside.

"This is Seiretei, the Abarais' business. My first job was here. This must be their Christmas party!" Grimmjow walked towards the window, through which he had spotted a shock of blue hair.

Szayel quietly took his wrist again and led him inside. The music played by the live band filled the room, there was a space cleared in the middle to act as a dance floor and couples danced around it merrily. He spotted the long table which held the feast for the evening nestled underneath the twin marble staircases which led up to the higher floors and the offices. A short, ebony haired woman sat on a high back chair in the middle of the table, happily tucking in to a plate of food. Her husband sat next to her, bright holly-berry red hair pulled up into his characteristic spiking ponytail; a wide smile on his face as he watched his wife enjoying her meal. Grimmjow smiled at the pair, remembering how envious he always was of their easy, loving relationship.

A figure walked past him swiftly, the young man's shoulder passing through his own as he stood, invisible in the scene. He looked after the man and saw his younger self heading towards the couple sat at the main table. He followed himself quickly, not disguising his movements as he knew he would go unseen.

"Mr. Abarai, this party is hugely expensive to the company. I was just adding up the figures and-" he was silenced by the man tearing the paper he was holding out of his hand and offering a mince pie to him.

"Grimmjow, I told you to call me Renji, and what does the expense matter? It's Christmas my boy!" he turned back to his wife "Rukia, it's blatantly obvious he was raised by your brother"

"Isn't it just! Grimmjow dear, just enjoy yourself! It's Christmas!" she smiled at him, raising her full glass before taking a long sip from it.

"Best do as she says!" Renji smiled at him before returning to his seat. With that the teenage Grimmjow moved back into the crowd of people watching the dancing, he grabbed a fresh drink from one of the waiters, whose blonde hair was cut in a sharp, shoulder length bob.

"Merry Christmas Master Jeagerjaques" the man smiled widely at him.

"And to you too Shinji" his younger self smiled, a curve of the lips which was very convincing. He took a sip of the drink and looked out to the dance floor. Aqua eyes widened as he spotted a flash of orange on the dance floor. He watched on wordlessly as he saw Ichigo dancing with a tall, curvaceous woman. Her hair was almost the same shade as his, just a little less outrageous; it fell down the length of her back, swaying as she danced. The young blue haired teen was enveloped in thoughts as he watched the slim man dance, hips moving with a economical purpose, not a millimetre of extra space was taken. His legs moved elegantly, long, defined muscles evident through the dark slacks he was wearing. Sharp clavicles you could latch a coathanger on were on show due to the three buttons left undone on the dress shirt. The teen remembered tracing kisses over those curved bones, moving softly into the muscles of his neck.

"C'mon Rukia, dance with me!" Renji's voice interrupted the boy's thoughts, making him jump slightly, sloshing his drink dangerously close to the rim of his glass.

"Renji, I just ate too much, I'll be sick!" Rukia protested while letting herself be dragged by her red haired husband.

"Just a slow one sweetie! Please, we always have our dance!" he waved to the band, indicating to them he wanted the pace slowed. They obliged, a sweet, flowing rhythm filling the space. The couple took to the dance floor to the sound of a wave of cheers and clapping from the watching crowd for their hosts. Renji led Rukia into an elegant waltz, but both the young and older Grimmjow were still captured by Ichigo, moving over the floor with the nameless woman. He had never found out her name, not wanting to know. Suddenly brown eyes locked with young blue ones, both widening in shock. Ichigo faltered in his step for a second before continuing to dance with the woman. The teen Grimmjow turned and vanished back into the crowd.

"Come Mr. Jeagerjaqes, my time is up" the pink haired male brought him crashing from his thoughts as he stared at the orange haired male like he was the source of life. He fisted his hand in the sleeve of the ghost's jacket and was lifted from the scene, the colours and people running away like water down a drain. Moments later he was back in his bedchamber, the window closed and the darkness banished by the pinkish aura of the spirit. "The next ghost will arrive when the clock strikes two. Please learn from us Grimmjow, before it is too late"

With those words the ghost was gone, along with the eerie pink light. Grimmjow crawled back into his bed, mind filled with a distinct shade of orange and the comfort of brown eyes.