Author's Note: I'm just going to say I had a lot of these scenes written out beforehand. That is why it looks like I'm updating really fast. This will not usually happen – since I usually don't update that frequently. It takes a considerate amount of time to update and create another chapter, but I will try my best on updating a lot, because like you I'm enjoying the direction I'm taking this story. So, I hope you guys continue to follow, favorite, and comment. Thanks, Bella4evr3

Side note – this isn't edited. So, I apologize beforehand if you find any grammatical mistakes. I am typing on my tablet, just to let you know. It's really hard typing 1,000 words on a tiny screen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All rights are reserved.

Chapter Four

Isshin had quickly reigned in his anger after hearing the shape his son was in. Kisuke Urahara unsheathed Benehime; the Head Captain granting him access to the sekimones along with some hell butterflies to avoid the cleaners within the Dangai.

"Let's get going, Urahara!" Isshin shouted rushing into the doors of the senkaimon –resembling his son when he and his friends had invaded the Soul Society.

Isshin flash stepped through the middle followed by a fellow ex-soul reaper captain." Remember Isshin. Ichigo will be located in the squad four barracks." Urahara explained. Although, Urahara knew Isshin wasn't listening. Preoccupied thoughts of his long lost son running wild. It only took seconds, before they reached the other side of the Senkaimon. Both of them set out for Squad Four's barracks with an orange haired teen in mind.

The First thing they saw when entering was the multitude of captains and their respective lieutenants. Their attention now locked on the two who had entered. "Where is he?"

"Right this way, Isshin." Captain Unohana led the way to Ichigo's resting room.

(Break)

Cold. Pain…. The darkness was too much for him he wanted out. To escape its confinement. Grimmjow had abandoned him as well.

Lonely – he felt. He was all alone. No one would rescue him, because no one would think about him. Although, he could hear many sounds surrounding him.

Foreign sounds. He was used to the dead silence of Hueco Mundo.

Then there was a loud shout. He was used to being the one shouted at by Aizen. He could remember on several accounts. Painful memories were equipped to them. He covered his ears with both hands and began to hug his body, until he formed into a small ball. A defense mechanism he had developed shortly after his long stay in a hollow-filled nightmare.

He was lying against cold cement. He could feel the solid ground. However, when he opened his eyes he was surprised to see various colors instead of the colors of black and white his eyes had adapted to.

There was light instead of darkness. He wondered if he was finally dead, and Grimmjow had killed him instead of saving his life. He still wondered why Grimmjow would save his life. The real reason. He didn't want to go on living; Aizen had stripped all his will away.

He somehow felt warmth the next minute. It was a feeling he wasn't quite used to. An unfamiliar feeling. Arms were wrapping themselves around himself. He couldn't remember the last time he was comforted like this. He couldn't remember the warmness of another's touch.

He didn't know it, but unbeknownst to the carrot top - tears had started leaking down his eyes, and sorrow pained shouts escaped from his raw lips; his voice hoarse from the years his voice hadn't been used. The wetness of tears were foreign to him, as he hadn't cried in the last two years. Showing how he felt was considered a weakness that he couldn't afford to show.

He didn't feel his body being lifted and carried. The raw emotions he was feeling made him retreat into his mind, and wanting to never wake up.

(Break)

The next time he awoke he could feel a gentle hand brushing through his hair. He leaned into the touch fearing this act of kindness would cease to be. He wasn't used to such kindness. He was only used to fear for when his hope was replaced with doubt. He didn't want to open his eyes – however by leaning into the touch he signaled to the others who were on the room that he was awake.

"Ichigo, you're awake? Ichigo, open your eyes. You're safe."

'Who was this comforting voice? And, where has it been all this time' Ichigo thought. He took a chance opening his eyes; the little spark of hope that died reignited, when the first he saw had him bursting into a fit of tears, and wrapping his weakened arms around his father the best he could.

He had no idea where he was, but seeing his father after being held captive for so long made him feel safe and secure. He needed that right now. "It's alright now, Ichigo. You're safe. You're here. You're safe and sound." He could hear the gentle cooing sounds, as Isshin rubbed Ichigo's back in a soothing manner.

He could honestly say that this was the first time he felt so safe and loved. He couldn't remember the last time he had been loved. The word almost foreign to him now.

"God, I can't imagine what you went through. It makes me fill with uncontrollable rage every time Aizen's name comes to mind." Ichigo flinched as his father spoke of the cursed man who had taunted and horrified him to no end. But, the next words his father spoke made him break down more. Although, for a different reason altogether. "I never stopped looking for you. I never stopped believing you would return."

This was just all too much for him to handle right now. He hadn't been with anyone for over two years. He had the espada, however they weren't overly affectionate with their feelings. On second thought, they didn't know the definition of feeling.

He had been caged and starved, beat on and experimented on – his body felt numb and Ichigo just closed his eyes receding back into the darkness.

It was the only thing he knew how to do. When, true feelings came out into the open.