A/N: Revised Edition

Prison Break
Chapter 4

It was wet, dark and cold. The rain was not showing any signs of stopping, the storm clouds howled in the sky. A thin figure was stumbling along the street, leaning heavily onto the wall. The young person was drenched with every inch of his clothing sticking to skin, the only shelter from the pouring rain was the hoodie that had been pulled over his head.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, echoing through the streets. The sound made the figure stiffen, he leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Blue eyes looked up at the sky, squinting to avoid getting rain drops in them. Grimmjow lifted his numb fingers, pushing back the hair that was sticking to his forehead. What the fuck had he just done? The man slid down to the ground, resting his head against the wall. This was bad, really bad.

He had been called over to do one of his drop offs, he'd been doing them a few months now. It was supposed to be like any job, pick up the package, drive down on his bike to one of the regular warehouses, leave it inside, and get the fuck out. Shaky fingers pointlessly wiped more water from his forehead. Grimmjow sighed, then winced, clutching his stomach. His shirt sticking further against his skin, making it burn. It was the furthest thing from a regular job. It was a fucking ambush, and the idiot he was, Grimmjow had walked right into it!

The sirens rang out again, this time much closer. The young man cursed, scrambling to his feet. He made it a few steps, before he slipped on the muddy earth, causing him to stumble a little. Grimmjow took in a deep breath, this was no time to be panicking, he straightened up. Fuck the pay. He was officially handing in his letter of resignation.

"Where are you going?" A voice called from behind him, slightly muffled by the pounding rain.

Surprised, Grimmjow jerked around, then immediately hissed in pain. He looked down, his soaked shirt had a deep crimson stain around the stomach.

"Come Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."

Blue eyes narrowed at the small man in front of him, he was at least a foot shorter than Grimmjow. Pale skin contrasted by blank emerald eyes, midnight hair pulled away from his face. He stood up straight, confidence pouring out of him, this guy was not to be messed with.

"Fuck off." Too bad Grimmjow messed with everyone. He dealt with those assholes back at the warehouse, no point in stopping now.

The stranger's lips thinned into a hard line. "I must tend to your wounds." The voice by no means was soothing or even comforting. His voice lacked any form of sentiment.

"Why?" When he got no reply, he snarled "Who the hell are you?"

The man looked at him, he blinked once, "I am not entitled to provide you with that piece of information." He raised a slim finger when Grimmjow tried to retort, "I am here on behalf on your employer.He wishes that you come to meet him."

The blue haired man's blood ran cold, he hadn't met any of the big guys, he only dealt with the people at the bottom of the food chain. No way in fucking hell. He took a deep breath, trying to shake the icy feeling from his nerves, "Oh good, so you can pass on the message. No more, I'm fucking out. You guys never mentioned having to deal with crazy pisspots." He turned around.

"Perhaps I was unclear Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, I was not making a request, it was an order. Do not walk away when I am speaking."

Grimmjow looked back at the man getting angry, "You deaf shithead? I said I quit." He took a few more shaky steps.

It happened so fast, the blue haired man never saw it coming. One minute he was walking, the next he was being shoved against a wall, with pain erupting from his stomach. One hand was at his throat, and green eyes regarded him. Instinctively, Grimmjow grabbed the hand that was cutting off his air supply as he choked. "F-fucker!" For god's sake! He was being beat by a pipsqueak.

For the first time since he had spoken, this man's voice showed a faint emotion, disgust. "Now listen very carefully to me you filthy mutt. You had your opportunity to leave the organisation and its dealings." The grip tightened, "However, after today, that very small window has finally closed. So I suggest." He took a step forward, "You learn to take orders. Do you understand now or must I simplify it even further for you?"

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously, Grimmjow grunted, his way of saying sure. As the gripped loosened, a knee jerked upward, causing the slightest show of pain from the smaller man. Like hell would he listen to orders. Now free, the bigger man pulled his fist back, and brought it forward. It met air. Grimmjow felt a pressure against the back of his knees. He fell to the ground, movement was heard. He rolled to his side, just as a foot crashed onto the ground where he had been seconds before. He cringed from the burning sensation in his stomach.

Seeing his pain, the smaller man regained composure, looking down with cold emerald eyes, "You cannot walk away. Your fate has been sealed Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."

"Grimmjow?" A pressure on his shoulder, "Grimmjow."

Blue eyes flew open, a snarl escaping from his throat, Grimmjow shot up. He hit his head against something, hard. A groan escaped his lips. He looked at pissed brown eyes and ruffled orange hair.

"Shit. Damnit Grimmjow that's the last time I wake you up!"

Grimmjow snorted at Ichigo, adrenaline fading from his system "You say that every time." He sat up stretching his arms above his heads, joints cracking, before falling back onto the couch, yawning.

"Yea well, you're snoring was messing up my concentration so shut up." The orange haired man was just wearing a pair of faded jeans, his hair was wet with a small towel around his neck. He jerked his chin out, "Dude, why must you sleep naked on mycouch?"

Grimmjow looked down, he only had on a pair of black boxers with the sheets on the floor, which probably had fallen off sometime during the night. He grinned up at his friend, leaning further back, "Why? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

It was his friends turn to snort, "Nothing will ever make me feel uncomfortable ever again after having had dinner with the Kuchiki's."

The blue haired man laughed. The Kuchiki's were an aristocratic family that often lent their help to the police department, why though, no one knew. There was nothing wrong with it, except the fact that the whole family was known for their stiff postures and demeaning attitude. Grimmjow personally thought they all had giant poles shoved up their asses, then again he hated most of the people Ichigo hung out with. He looked at his friend, "So you gonna be a good boy and kiss up to that little shrimp, what's her name? Ruchi-"

"Rukia, and what you call kiss up, most people call being polite." He walked around the couch, towards the open kitchen. "But no, I'm not going to kiss up to her. You up for some food?"

Grimmjow grinned, turning around, "Fuck yea, I'd kill for some pancakes."

"It's 2:30 in the afternoon shithead." Nonetheless, the orange head started moving around the kitchen, finding some appropriate food for his friend.

"So? You could have pancakes for lunch. Live a little, berry." Blue eyes gleamed as he dodged the cutlery that was thrown at him.

"Screw you." A familiar scowl in place.

Grinning, the blue haired man stood up, kicking the sheet under the couch, it was already on the floor so who cared? He made a trip to the bathroom to freshen up. Once he came out Grimmjow could smell eggs from the kitchen, the one good thing about living in a small apartment was the fact you could never hide food from one another. And sharing was always caring. Grimmjow was walking towards the kitchen when he noticed Ichigo's work table, placed in the corner of the living room. It was covered with papers. That wasn't what caught Grimmjow's attention, it was the picture of a dead body.

He grabbed the picture off the table, the man was lying on his stomach, his arm bent in an impossible angle, his clothes were muddy and covered with blood. His back was covered with deep wounds, almost like he had been hit again, and again. The skin was tearing off in some places, the pictures were so vivid Grimmjow could almost smell the rotten flesh. But all those things weren't what had drawn his attention. It was the man's light hair, looking almost silver. His head had been turned to the side, meaning a part of his face could be seen. The man's mouth had been left open, revealing square, shark like teeth. His right eye was closed, but the skin around it was severely injured, a darker shade to the rest of his body, the man wouldn't have been able to see from that eye. But it wasn't a new wound, it was at least 4 years old. Grimmjow would know, he was the one who gave the man that injury.

"Di Roy." He whispered. He looked at other photos, showing the body from different angles, each more graphic than the last, "Fuck."

"Grimmjow?" His friend called from the kitchen, when Ichigo didn't receive an answer, he carried the food into the living room. He stopped when he saw his friend. He looked at the papers, then back up at Grimmjow, whose face was unreadable. "You okay?"

Blue eyes snapped to his friend, after a moment he shrugged, "Yea, just looking through." He looked back at the table, "So what happened?"

The orange haired man sighed, walking over to the table and putting the food down. He collected all the papers, "I dunno, we found him a few days ago. I think he was dump and go case. Some of the wounds are really old, so it couldn't have happened then and there."

Grimmjow scoffed, "I'll bet."

Ichigo looked more closely at one of the photos, he pointed to one corner, towards the man's neck. "See that mark there."

Grimmjow leaned forward, it was faint, but one patch of Di Roy's neck had scratches on it, like someone had tried to physically rip the skin off.

The police officer continued, "See, normally we wouldn't be too sure about what that would mean. But" He pulled out another photo from a manila folder. This photo was a mug shoot of Di Roy, when he wasn't ripped to pieces, "This was taken two years ago, look at his neck then."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, then widened them, "It's a tattoo."

"Exactly, now the only thing we need to figure out is what 'L.N' means, maybe a gang related thing, or someone he knew. Whatever it was, it important enough that it had to be scratched off his neck."

The blue haired man stored those two letters in his memory, L.N. He would definitely be checking up on that. He grabbed a chair and shoved the forgotten food into his mouth. Right now, he needed to clear his head. "For fucks sake Ichigo, it's the weekend. You gotta stop bringing this shit home with you."

Brown eyes regarded Grimmjow, "Considering I'm the one paying for everything, I think you gotta shut up." He then rubbed his eyes and sighed, "But I can't help it man. Stuff's happening."

A blue eyebrow was raised, "Stuff?" Grimmjow then grinned, "Shit, come on Ichigo say it, shit's happening."

The orange haired man laughed, "You're a shithead. Happy?"

"Not really, where are my pancakes?"

Ichigo just stared at his friend, there was a small pause, as if Ichigo was contemplating something. After another few minutes, he looked up, "Hey listen."

Grimmjow looked at him, food still in his mouth, "Yea?"

Brown eyes looked on the table, "Before I woke you...y-you were making noises while you slept."

The blue haired man made a face, "Dude every guy has those drea -"

"You sounded afraid."

The silence stretched for ages.

After a few minutes of staring at each other, Ichigo finally sighed, "If you don't want to talk it's-"

Grimmjow slammed his fists on the table, his jaws clenched, "Then don't fucking ask." He got up from the table, pushing his plate away, "I ain't hungry."

He walked away from his friend to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Alright, so maybe he was overreacting a little, Ichigo was just looking out for him, but, fuck! Grimmjow was never good at sharing, he didn't take part in circle time, and the orange idiot should know that by now. Every time, every single time something happened, to anyone. Ichigo swooped in like some god damn superhero, wanting to take the burden and help them out. That was Ichigo, the knight in shining armour. Too bad it wasn't Grimmjow, he wasn't like his friend in any sense. He got into shit himself. So he dealt with shit himself.

It's not the first time he blew up in Ichigo's face, Grimmjow and Ichigo had had this argument a hun-fucking-dred times already. His friend just didn't get the message, Grimmjow didn't want to talk about it, he couldn't talk about it, cus' the more he talked about it, the more he thought about it. And the only thing Grimmjow wanted, was to forget, forget the years he spent trapped in that hell. Besides, the only thing keeping him out of sight from his ex-employer was the fact he kept his mouth shut.

Blue eyes starred at themselves in the mirror. His muscles were stiff and on edge, he was nervous. Grimmjow had been having the same dream for a few days now. He couldn't shake the nightmare. And if that wasn't bad enough, Di Roy was now dead, lying in some morgue being poked at by cops. L.N, Grimmjow thought hard, what the hell was L.N? Some sort of code word, why the hell had it been fucking ripped off? Sure, every member in dump had some sort of position, a way of ranking themselves. But someone at Di Roy's level got nothing more than nasty looks and comments. Then again, it had been a while since Grimmjow had been in that place. Maybe they were under new management.

He snorted, not a chance. The blue haired man took in a deep breath, deciding to clear his head. A walk sounded good right about now, he needed movement. Grabbing his clothes, he got changed. After a second thought, Grimmjow changed into trainers, a run would be a better idea. Coming out into the hall, he quietly picked up the house keys. He was still pissed at Ichigo, so Grimmjow grabbed his friends IPod, making his way to the door. He paused when he heard his friend's voice, somewhere in the kitchen, whispering furiously.

"What?" Grimmjow could easily imagine the frown on Ichigo's face. "Jesus! This is the fourth one in two weeks...Are you sure?" A sigh, "Look, I'm swamped, can't you get Rukia to look over it, she's been dying for a new case...I get it...Yea...Okay...Fine...Alright I said I got it!"

The blue haired man crossed his arms over his chest just as Ichigo came out of the kitchen. Grimmjow's curiosity overpowered his anger, for now. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"Nothing, just some weird cases. That's all."

Grimmjow could sense his friend's uneasiness, so he just nodded, and left the apartment. If his friend didn't want to talk about, he wouldn't push. Besides Grimmjow didn't think he could handle any more dead bodies. He'd had enough for a lifetime, and more. He shook his head, he didn't want to think about it, all he wanted to do now was run.

The blue haired man started with a steady pace, but after a couple of blocks, he pulled out the head phones, not wanting to be distracted by the music. Instead he focused on the sounds of his feet hitting the gravel footpath. Thud. Thud. He focused on his breathing, in through his nose, out through his mouth. He focused on the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. Grimmjow closed his eyes, enjoying the cool air on his sweaty face. He continued this for a couple of blocks, picking up his speed every now and then. There was nothing like the burn in his muscles, the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of just being alive.

After an hour, the blue haired slowed to stop in front of a small convenience store. He stretched properly so he wouldn't have any sore spots tomorrow. Grimmjow checked his pulse, grinning at calm feeling that washed over him after his exercise. Blue eyes looked at the store, after putting the headphones back on he went inside. Buying a few snacks and a sports drink, Grimmjow came out. He started walking home, bags in hand, a chocolate bar in his mouth.

After a few minutes, the blue haired man was becoming tense, all feelings of tranquillity long gone. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, adrenaline begun to rise, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. Grimmjow knew this feeing. It was the feeling of being watched.