Ahhh, well, here it is, the third chapter! Thank you all for the amazing reviews!
Anyways, this chapter is longer and it kind of gives some background to Grimmjow's old life. And this also explains the meaning to the new title. Anyways, please enjoy and review! ^.^
Disclaimer : I do not own anything, except for original characters.
Warning : Story includes sex, gore, violence, and language. Please do not read if this insults, or you can't stomach it. Thank you!
Note : Any questions about the year, or anything like that, just put it into a review and I'll answer it!
Enjoy!
"When I came into power, I did not want the concentration camps to become old age pensioneer's homes, but instruments of terror."
- Adolf Hitler
As soon as the door locked, Orihime screamed. At the man, at the door, at herself. She didn't know. But she screamed and pounded her fists against the door that locked her in this hell. She could feel the tears coming, and tried desperately to hold them back. She knew she would look weak if she cried. But then again….everyone else was crying as well. What did it matter if she cried?
She let out the first sob and it hurt, letting it out of her clammed up throat. But the next ones came easily. She sobbed as she slowly fell to the floor, hugging her legs into her chest. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. She was upset at herself for getting caught. But she had known it would happen. So it didn't surprise her. She wasn't sad, either. And she didn't know why. But the emotion curling in her gut was anger. Anger that the man had let her live.
She was crazy to be angry with a man who saved her life, but she was. Horribly angry with the blue haired man.
"Orihime…..Are you alright?" Sora's voiced slammed through her thoughts. She looked behind her shoulder and he was there, a concerned look on his face. Of course he was concerned, why wouldn't he be?
She felt more tears come as he wrapped her in an embrace. Tight and secure.
She knew that he didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to say either. They just sat there, holding each other. They both cried. Sora cried for his sister, knowing she was alright, crying for the fact that he had almost lost his only family. He cried knowing that his sister was in pain.
Orihime….she was a different story.
She cried, yes, but her tears were a promise to herself. A promise to get out of this hell alive. To save her brother. To live.
But most of all, a promise to see that man again.
The man with the blue hair.
Grimmjow couldn't understand the feeling that was eating away at his stomach. He didn't know what it was. Fear? No, what was he scared of? Angst? Maybe. A possibility. But not likely. He ran through the emotions that he had felt all his life, and found that none of them never really fit the feeling he was experiencing now. But then one, he knew that was it.
Guilt.
For what? That was the question. Fuck, he didn't know! He was hardly ever guilty. Only ever once did he feel this way and that was suck a long time ago….
He shook the thought from his hand and shoved his hands into his pockets, digging his chin into his chest to avoid the cold wind. He walked around the train, making sure the Jews were behaving. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he knew even if he had a bed, he wouldn't be able to. Not with that girl's face on his mind.
He hissed out a breath and looked over to the tents at the far end of the small valley. He could hear their laughs, their drunken talk, and he felt sick.
He snarled under his breath and continued walking around the train.
Apparently, the train's engine was frozen, it being one of the coldest winters Grimmjow had ever been in. And they had to wait until engineers cam to fix it. His father had said that it would be about a five day – to a week's – wait. Fucking Christ.
Grimmjow cupped his hands together and blew in them, creating warmth. He rubbed them together, trying to get the feeling back into his fingers. He wrapped his arms around himself as he walked towards the end of the train. He could hear them crying, begging to be let out. He tried so hard not to let them free. He couldn't do that. He couldn't.
But once he reached the last train car, he stopped in front of the door. He couldn't explain why. He stopped and listened. He wanted to hear her voice, wanted to see her.
No! Don't think of her! Stop! A voice inside his head raged at him.
Grimmjow shook his head, clearing out the voice. He did want to see her again, he would not deny that. He felt a pull to her, but he could not see her. They were different. She was scum. He was power. Even so, he felt his hand twitch, wanting to touch her. He cursed himself. These feelings he was getting were unwanted. Severely. He wanted to crush them into the ground. Pour acid on them, burn them, and char them. Obliterate them.
Kill them. He wanted to kill them so he would never feel this way again.
But that's when he heard it.
Her voice.
He whipped his head towards the car and listened.
"Excuse me, do you know a song?"
Orihime opened her tired eyes and looked at the small man that had spoken to her. He was short, but he did not look young. He had ridiculous white hair that was spiked, and his cold teal eyes stared at her. She was shocked by his question, but she looked around him, seeing a small girl with raven hair clinging to the short man's arm. She was coughing, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
She smiled sadly at the man. "I think I could find one in my mind." She thought she saw a small smile on the boy's lips but if there was, it was gone quickly. She watched him as he pulled the girl into his lap and held her tightly. She wondered if they were siblings. Or perhaps friends. Or maybe even lovers. But they were so young. Orihime couldn't help the prick that she felt behind her eyes knowing that these children are going to be killed. For nothing. They did nothing to deserve this.
The boy looked up at her while stroking the girl's hair. Orihime tapped a finger to her chin and thought about which song to sing to the children. Finally she came up with one.
"I thought of one, but I have a question for you first." She said to the young boy. He looked up at her, his eyes going wide.
"What?"
"What is your name?" She asked, simply curious.
"Toshiro Hitsugaya." He said, almost proudly. Then he looked down at the girl in his lap. "This is Hinamori. Hinamori Momo." He stated, and Orihime saw the faint loving smile appear on his lips. She smiled at the two, knowing at least they had each other through this.
"Alright." She whispered. "My mother sang this to me when I was a child. Listen carefully."
And she began to sing to them, hoping it would bring them comfort. Praying that it would settle her own raging thoughts.
Dancing bears
Painted wings;
Things I almost remember,
And a song someone sings;
Once upon a December.
She watched as the girl's – Momo – breathing soothed down, relaxing. She smiled as she saw Toshiro's eyes start to droop close. She closed her own eyes and thought of her mother. Her father. And the man who had sung this to her when she cried. The man who had loved her.
Someone holds me safe and warm,
Horses prance through a silver storm,
Figures dancing gracefully,
Across my memory;
Far away,
Long ago,
Glowing dim as an ember,
Something my heart used to know;
Once upon a December….
She couldn't help but trail off, falling asleep. But as she slept she dreamed. Everything was colorful, wonderful, beautiful. She was dancing with her orange-haired prince. Swaying to the music. They were dressed in gowns and robes, suits and ties. She smiled lovingly at the man holding her in his arms. He smiled back, his amber eyes shinning.
Grimmjow listened to her sing, silently singing the words in his head. He knew this song. He knew it from a very long time ago. She used to sing it to him. She used to sing that exact song as they layed in the soft grassy meadow. And suddenly, he was thrown back into the past.
"Come on, Kitty!" He voice rang out, high and sweet. He ran after her, trying not to trip over his newly long legs. He had just gone through a growth spurt, and he wasn't quite used to his now-tall eight year-old body.
"Stop calling me Kitty, damn it!" He had learned the word from his father's friend, Gin. He felt cool using it, knowing that his best friend didn't know what it meant.
Still, he chased her until they reached the river – the one they had found when the had first met.
She turned her head, smiling at him. "Never! It's too cute!" She giggled and ran straight towards the river. He jumped after her, sliding down the hill. He nearly tripped and fell, but he steadied himself before she saw. He glanced at her before pumping his legs and tackling her to the ground.
She let out a squeal and erupted in a fit of giggles.
"Kitty! You caught me." She smiled up at him. He smiled back at his friend.
"Yeah. The kitty caught the mouse."
Then the scene switched as Grimmjow pushed his legs forward, feeling sick. He couldn't think, couldn't feel. He picked up his pace as more memories flooded through him.
He was eleven years old. And he ran to her house, wanting to tell his friend about the exciting news. He knocked frantically on her door, wearing his new Hitler Youth uniform. She would see him as soon as she opened the door. She would hug him and congratulate him. She would give him her famous smile.
"Rosie, come on, I have something to tell….."
The door suddenly swung open, revealing Grimmjow's dear friend. She was clad in he nightgown that flowed to her knees, and she stared at him with blurry eyes. Sudden fear and concern plunged into his heart.
"Rosie... What's…"
"What are you wearing?" She glared at him. Her small frame was trembling in anger and Grimmjow didn't understand why. He looked at her, his blue eyes wide and staring. He didn't understand. Wasn't she happy for him? Only some children his age got in, and he had made it! Wasn't she proud of him?
He furrowed his brow, annoyed. "Hitler Youth uniform. What does it look like?" He nearly snarled at her. He was mad now, thinking that she didn't even congratulate him on his success.
But that's when she fell to the floor and erupted into tears. Grimmjow's anger disappeared and he rushed to her, pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her frail form.
"Varda," He spoke her real name and she looked up from his shoulder, sobbing. "Rosie, what happened? What's wrong?" He looked at her face as fresh tears came to her eyes. He couldn't understand why she was so upset. Adolf Hitler had won the elections only two years back. They were going to be saved. They were going to be alright. Why was she so upset?
"H-He….We….I-I-I…" She hiccupped through her sentence and he could comprehend what she was saying, but he waited for her to catch her breath and finish what she was saying.
Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up at him. But she still couldn't say anything. She reached behind her and grabbed the newspaper laying on the floor. He watched her, watched her as she let out more sobs, more tears. And as she handed him the paper, as he read, he began to cry.
"Kill the Rats! Be Rid of the Jews!"
Grimmjow felt like throwing up, and he did, falling to his knees, holding his stomach. He vomited over the snow. He coughed and slumped backwards against a rock. He didn't know where he ran to, but it was far away. But not far enough.
It was never far enough.
"Rosie! Rosie!" His voice was desperate as he raced through the forest. He had seen her run, escape, but he needed to follow her, needed to make sure she would be safe until he could take her away.
It was dark, and he knew that her mother and father and brother would be glad she had escaped before the raid. And who would miss her? No one. But they would look for her. He knew that they would.
"Rosie! Goddamn it, Varda, where are you?" He snarled out, trying to fight his way through the trees and bush. Then he heard a quiet sob.
"Kitty?"
And he ran faster than he ever had before. He reached her though, and he didn't stop his pace as he ran towards her, and she to him. They slammed together in a tight embrace. She buried her face into the crook of his neck and clung to him for dear life. They held on to each other, not wanting to let go.
Finally, she looked up and smiled at him. "Kitty found me." She said, bringing a hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes and smiled at her.
"Always. The kitty will always find the mouse."
And he crushed his lips to hers with a moan.
It happened fast, at least the first part happened fast. Before Grimmjow knew what was happening, he was hovering above her naked body. He was shaking with anticipation, she was shaking with it, too, but as well as nervousness. He leaned down and kissed her gently.
"Grimmjow…." She whispered as he pulled his lips away.
"Hmm?" He hummed, smiling at her.
"I…I'm scared." She admitted, a blush rising on her cheeks. He kissed her forehead and brushed back her hair.
"So am I. You forget that this is also my first." He smiled softly at her and she kissed him gingerly on the lips. Gave him permission.
"Are you sure, Varda?" He hushed, finding her lips once again. She nodded her head and pushed her hips up, wrenching a moan from her Kitty.
"Yes. Make love to me." She nearly demanded, and he complied.
Pushing into her, he covered her mouth with his own to swallow her cry of pain. He stopped, waiting for her to adjust. But he found it rather difficult. Soon, she was moving her hips up, motioning him to move.
And, God, did he ever.
He slammed into her, wanting to find what so many boys his age talked about. But somehow, he felt so much more than they had. He knew he did. Because he loved her. And she loved him.
He ducked his forehead onto her shoulder as she moaned for him. He let out a snarl, pushing deeper inside of her. She begged for him, pleaded. And he had no choice but to oblige.
"Gr –ah! – p-p-lease! Fa…oh!"
"Varda….Fuck, Varda!"
Her hands sought purchase, but Grimmjow caught them, entwining them with his and pushed them above her head, continuing to thrust into her. Her moans became louder, and he found himself mimicking her sounds. Cursing more, yes, but he was moaning, nearly screaming for her. And soon, he felt it, that…thing…that curled and tightened in the pit of his stomach. He knew what this meant, and he felt the need to say it.
"Varda…Shit, I-I'm….I'm g-gonna…." His words died of in a throaty moan as he hit is climax. His friend screamed out his name and writhed beneath him. He jerked, and they rode out their orgasms.
He collapsed on top of her, the pair panting. She ran a hand through his cyan hair and kissed his cheek. He smiled into her neck and kissed it gently.
"I love you, Grimmjow." And he kissed her. And finally gathered the courage to tell her his response.
"Varda?" He whispered
"Hmm?"
"…I love you."
She smiled at him and sang her favorite part to the song she always sang. The song she always sang to him. Their song.
"Someone holds me safe and warm
Horses prance through a silver storm
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory
Far away, long ago
Glowing dim as an ember
Things my heart used to know
Things it yearns to remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December….."
And they both drift to sleep, waiting for tomorrow.
Grimmjow couldn't believe his thoughts. Where had they come from? Why now? Why no, Goddamn it! He curled into a ball and dug his hands into his hair, wanting to rip it out. Shutting his eyes tightly, his dug his nails into his skull, wanting to draw blood. Hoping he would. But after calming his heart down, after pushing back the tears he hadn't shed since that day, he pulled himself together, lifting himself off the ground, and he walked back towards the camp.