A/N: Just a quick question: Do any of you think this fic is moving too quickly? Not quick enough?

I'm just curious, is all.

The last couple of chapters have been slower, but I promise that in this chapter we'll have some actual plot show up. Not much, but there is.

Grimmjow and Szayel's relationship is only going to be friendship in this fic. The main focus will be Ichigo and Grimmjow, with an actual pairing on the side. However, it isn't going to happen for a while, and I'm not telling you who.

Aren't I a big meanie?

Starfall and Colour the Sky, along with I Love You Forever from Two Steps From Hell are the inspirations for this chapter.

o-o-o-o

Chapter Four

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, Grimmjow was allowed to have a shower, something that he'd been craving and needing desperately.

Although it was a basic setup similar to that of a change room, he accepted it gratefully. He needed to get the remaining stench of blood and explosives and fear out of his skin. The remnants of his short battle remained only in the remaining leg wound, which was well on its way to healing fully.

As he shed his clothing, his relished in the sudden freedom, Szayel having gone to another part of the property for an errand, leaving Grimmjow alone. It was quiet, save for the sounds of the steaming water hiting the tile.

Breathing in the warmth, he felt the tension in his shoulders release, leaving them sore from the constant tightness in the muscles.

His teal hair became plastered to his back, the colour darkening to a shadowed teal. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the tile, the cool touch of it soothing against his skin.

After a few moments of simply enjoying the sensation of scalding water pounding against his skin, he slowly began to clean himself up, gingerly washing the area around his leg wound with soap and hissing as a trail managed to sneak into the tender flesh. He washed his biceps and forearms, taking great care and time to do so. It wasn't until another good twenty minutes had passed that he began the lengthly ritual of cleaning his hair. As it was so long, it was occasionally difficult for him to wash every inch of the teal strands without leaving residue behind.

When he finally stepped out, well washed and near purring like a content housecat, towel wrapped firmly around his waist, he was only semi-surprised to find Szayel waiting for him, a small folded pile of clothing next to him.

"To replace your others." he shrugged. "It's doubtful you'd be wanting to gallavant off in the remains of them."

Along with the clothes, he was offered a hairband in order to keep his long hair out of his face for the most part. Neatly, he braided his locks and tied it before limping after Szayel.

The warehouse was home by now, or at least the bare minimum of the word. He knew that he would never have a home. Aizen would find it and destroy it, as he had with so many others. There simply was no escape.

Both he and the pink haired male had begun bonding over their 'heart-to-hearts', something that both dreaded up until the moment they had to speak.

"Maybe, if this fucking war ever ends, we'll be friends." Grimmjow mused, wandering over to the rather comfortable couch that doubled as Szayel's bed and plunking himself down on it, making himself comfortable and ignoring the twinge in his leg.

"Maybe." Szayel agreed mildly, joining Grimmjow and flicking some invisible dust off of his chest. "If both of us live through it, of course."

"Che." Grimmjow huffed. "After this long it'd be fucking luck if he managed to kill me for good."

There was silence: by now, both knew it was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. They merely thought on the previous comment and went from there. Plain and simple was their friendship, but strong already.

Szayel finally sighed, leaning his head back onto the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling. "It wouldn't be so bad if we knew what awaits us in the future."

Grimmjow scoffed. "Nah, that would just take all of the fun outta it. It's kinda nice not knowing what happens sometimes. Others...well I think we both know that we'd pay millions to find out what's gonna happen with that fucking slimy rat bastard."

"Who's a slimy rat bastard?"

The new voice was soft, sudden, and both men jumped at the noise.

"Shiro, knock it the hell off!" Szayel snapped, vein pulsing in his forehead. "You fucking know not to bring your ass into my building by now!"

The albino, since Grimmjow really had no other word for the man, held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Calm yer hormones, Pinkie. I'm just here ta check if ya need anythin' since I'm headin' out on another supply run with Zanny."

Szayel rubbed his temples for a moment, deep in thought, before snapping his fingers. "A few more notebooks and pens, a couple bottles of ibuprofen, bandages..the usual."

Shiro mock saluted, his black and gold eyes glinting. "Aye aye sir!" he cackled before taking note of Grimmjow. "Ah, I suppose he's the newbie."

Grimmjow's hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the two stared one another down, Shiro with a manic grin on his features the entire time. Grimmjow scowled, appraising this newest male. Every fiber of his logical side of his mind screamed that this guy was a killer, someone to be taken seriously unless you wanted the barrel of a gun pointed at the side of your head.

"And I suppose yer an asshole." Grimmjow retorted. His pride wounded from the vague comment, he was out for vengeance.

Shiro threw his head back and belted out insane laughter that echoed throughout the building. Wiping tears from his eyes, he grinned widely at Grimmjow. "I like ya. Ya got spunk, Blue. I think you an' me, we'll get along just fine."

The teal haired male simply nodded, not entirely sure what the hell had just happened.

"Well, I'm off. See ya in a couple days."

Turning, Shiro waved vaguely over his shoulder as he exited the room, the door clicking startlingly soft compared to the rough exterior of the albino.

Szayel groaned and stood. "Can't stand it when that arrogant prick comes here." he muttered under his breath, moving over to his desk and rummaging through a drawer before triumphantly brandishing a package of cigarettes. "Drives me back to smoking."

"So, I'm gonna take it that you two don't get along well?" Grimmjow confirmed. Szayel snorted. "That's the understatement of the century. I would have shot him myself if given the chance a while back. Now it's simply mutual dislike."

He wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it definitely meant that the two men didn't like one another at all.

"Any other freaks of nature I should be concerned about?" he asked in amusement as Szayel lit up a cigarette and took a long drag from it.

"Other than Kenpachi and Shirosaki? Well, there's Nnoitra, the Quinto, and maybe Ulquiorra, the Cuatro. But he's usually fine unless you manage to worm your way under his skin. And that's when shit goes down. I think he very nearly killed Shirosaki once for annoying him."

Grimmjow raised a brow. Two of the Espada were considered freaks of nature? Now why did that not surprise him? Oh, yeah. Because every time he looked in a mirror, he was looking at another freak of nature. Mind, it wasn't always that way. Sometimes he considered himself a monster, but that was only when his memories were particularly bad.

"So I've met two of the four and come out alive. I think I'll survive the other two." he huffed.

"Don't be so sure. The two you've met weren't Espada." Szayel pointed out with his cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers. "And to top it off, Aizen wasn't really the type to gather all of the Espada in a room to meet face to face. Other than Ulquiorra and Starrk, I think I'm the only one who knows all of the Espada."

"Unlikely, considering I'm not exactly a people person. You're the only one who's had any amount of communication with me." Grimmjow corrected.

"And we all know that that isn't going to last much longer. You've been staying here since you're still healing, but once you're cleared you're going to have to meet with the rest of our forces." Szayel reminded, putting out the remains of his now spent cigarette and leaning against the wall.

"Whatever." Grimmjow rolled his eyes, unconcerned.

Szayel sighed, something he seemed to be doing a lot more often now that Grimmjow was under his care, and rubbed his temples. "I wonder how I've managed not to murder you yet."

"My boyish charm and rugged good looks?" he suggested, showing off his teeth in a feral grin.

"You wish." Szayel shot back.

Jutting out his bottom lip ever so slightly, he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, looking like a sulky child.

"What exactly are you doing?" Szayel questioned blandly, barely raising a brow.

"Sulking. What does it look like?"

"Rather pathetic, if you're asking my opinion."

"Good thing I wasn't asking for your opinion then, isn't it?"

"Temptation to strangle you is back."

"Aww..I can feel the love from here."

"What, my hands around your throat?"

"Nah. I'd like to see you try."

"If I wanted to kill you, I'd do it subtly. Strangling you would leave too many clues to follow. Even a blind and deaf old man would know who killed you." Szayel stated dryly.

"Not true. There are a lot of people who want to kill me. I do have the knack of pissing someone off, no matter how great their self control is." Grimmjow said smugly, shit eating grin in place and teal eyes sparking with mischief.

"You're impossible."

"You're too uptight."

Szayel flipped him off. "Go to hell."

"You first."

Growling under his breath, Szayel ground his foot into the cement floor, no doubt wanting nothing more than to throttle the teal haired man sitting in front of him. But luckily, he knew how to control the temptation, though his control was the bare minimum at best.

Grimmjow knew he'd won the round when Szayel finally huffed and left, slamming the double doors behind him. The immediate sense of being alone stung slightly, vague fear in the back of his mind rising to the tempting bait that was his memories.

A low rumble in his chest grew as a particularly nasty memory rose to his sight for a moment before he tore it down like a poster from a wall. He didn't want to deal with this shit now. Maybe later, when he knew that there was no chance of Szayel finding him battling his inner demons.

Yes, that sounded like a much better plan.