Author's Notes: See chapter one for disclaimer.

Many thanks to lelann37 and HikariFighter for reading and reviewing chapter three! It seems this story is getting less feedback with each chapter, though. That…makes me sad.

The Price of Freedom
By Annie-chan
Chapter Four: Needles

Yumichika sat in a cold, hard metal chair, her arms crossed protectively in front of her. Her knees were pressed together, her feet likewise as close to each other as possible. She was shaking, though you wouldn't notice it unless you touched her.

She was wracked with anxiety, and had adopted the defensive position without thinking. She was in a large room full of odd and terrifying-looking instruments, some free-standing and others attached to metal slabs that could only be described as exam tables. The instruments were twisted amalgams of surgical equipment, data sensors, and other, unrecognizable devices that she would happily stay ignorant of what they were meant for. She could only imagine, though she preferred not to, what some poor soul strapped onto one of those tables would be put through.

On the far side of the room were several large, transparent capsules set against the wall. Inside were vague shapes floating in a liquid of indescribable color. Yumichika didn't care to look any closer.

Nearer to her was a set of shelves sunk into the wall, dozens of glass containers lined up on said shelves. Some contained liquids of every color you could imagine, while others held anywhere from one to a few dozen objects of varying sizes. Again, Yumichika didn't care to look too closely. If the owner of this laboratory was anything like Kurotsuchi Mayuri, then Yumichika was quite certain she wanted nothing to do with whatever went on in this glorified torture chamber.

Next to her, in another metal chair, sat Ikkaku. His hands were still cuffed behind him. Despite the reiatsu limiter around his neck, it appeared their captors didn't trust Ikkaku to behave. Not that Yumichika blamed them. He was, after all, the less predictable and more violent of the two of them.

Ikkaku had kept his gaze fixed on Yumichika. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye, leaning forward with his head bent. His expression was neutral, though his eyes were unmistakably apprehensive. He was worried not for his own safety, but for Yumichika's. She was the one Aizen wanted most, and he was powerless to stop whatever the traitor had in mind for her. Ikkaku was not used to feeling helpless, and he hated it with everything he had.

Yumichika was busy watching the pink-haired arrancar as he busied himself with getting ready whatever it was they were brought to his lab for. She had just found out that his name was Szayelaporro Grantz, and he was the Octava Espada. The glasses that he wore were actually the remnants of his hollow mask, which explained the absence of lenses. He was apparently the "mad scientist" of Aizen's flock, as attested to by the large lab she was currently in the middle of. She didn't want to know just how far his madness went, though she could take a pretty good guess if she cared to think about it.

The two arrancar who had escorted Yumichika and Ikkaku were standing on either side of the door a short distance away. Neither seemed particularly interested in what Szayelaporro was doing, nor did they seem disturbed by the lab's many sadistic devices. For a brief moment, their detached expressions reminded Yumichika of Kurotsuchi Nemu as she dispassionately observed her captain's ghastly experiments.

The female was Tier Halibel, the Tercera Espada, and the male was Ulquiorra Schiffer, the Cuarta Espada. It seemed Aizen didn't trust lesser arrancar to guard his two captives, instead assigning his elite, the espada, to do it. Yumichika and Ikkaku weren't your typical shinigami, after all, but the third and fifth seats of the fiercest division in Seireitei. It was no wonder Aizen was being cautious.

Finally, Szayelaporro turned back to the shinigami. In his hand he held a sizeable syringe, a very large needle gleaming in the bright light of the lab. It was between three and four inches long, and was much thicker than a standard hypodermic needle. The beveled point looked positively vicious.

Yumichika's eyes widened. "What's that for?" she demanded, unable to keep the apprehension out of her voice.

"It's how I'm going to get the microchip under your skin so we can track your position," Szayelaporro replied. "Or would you rather I used a scalpel instead and have to stitch you up afterward?"

So, that's what Aizen had meant by chipping. Tiny tracking devices were going to be inserted underneath their skin. Aizen was taking no chances with them. If they tried to escape, the microchips would lead their captors right to them, making it pointless to even attempt it.

Their situation had just edged a little bit closer to completely hopeless. Yumichika suddenly wanted to break something.

Szayelaporro was bending over her now. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. Much." He grabbed her left hand and pulled it toward him, stretching her arm out. Yumichika resisted, but his grip was solid. He set the rather imposing needle against her skin about an inch below the back of her wrist, then pushed it forward, piercing her skin and sliding the needle into her arm.

Yumichika grit her teeth, the skin around her eyes tightening. It hurt. As the needle was designed to easily pass through skin, it wasn't as painful as a knife or a sword would have been, but it was enough to make her wince. The sheer size of the needle ensured that it would hurt.

Szayelaporro pushed on the plunger, and there was a loud click. The microchip was sure to be tiny, but Yumichika felt it go in. There was a sharp jab of pain where the end of the needle must have been, her tissues and nerves protesting the insertion of something altogether foreign, despite its small size.

The needle was pulled out, a small trickle of blood managing to escape before Szayelaporro pressed down on the injection site with his thumb. Yumichika had a feeling that the espada didn't normally bother with stemming blood flow, and she wondered what had caused him to show her such kindness. Probably Aizen's instructions.

A moment later, Szayelaporro disposed of the syringe in a sharps container, then produced an identical one from a pocket low on his hip. It was Ikkaku's turn.

"Behave yourself," the espada warned the third seat, leaning around him to release his left arm from the handcuffs. He secured the empty cuff to one of the ribs of the chair, keeping Ikkaku's right arm restrained behind him. He pulled Ikkaku's left arm out in front of him like he had done to Yumichika's and removed the syringe's cap with his teeth, baring the needle and bringing it to the shinigami's skin.

In a flash of movement, Ikkaku had wrenched his hand from Szayelaporro's and grabbed the espada by the collar.

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika gasped, bolting up from her chair.

The sound of three swords being drawn simultaneously rang out at the same time as her cry. Before Yumichika was even halfway standing, Ikkaku found himself with Szayelaporro's sword against his throat. Ulquiorra and Halibel were already halfway to them from their posts at the door, their own weapons at the ready. They stopped there, watching the scene warily.

"Ikkaku, what are you doing?" Yumichika all but shrieked, her heart pounding in her chest. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Let go, shinigami," the Octava Espada hissed, his amber eyes narrowing. "You wouldn't want your pretty little lady to see you bleeding out on my floor, would you?"

Ikkaku glared heatedly back, not responding. After a long moment, his fingers slowly released, as if he were forcing himself to loosen his grip. Szayelaporro straightened up, keeping his blade against Ikkaku's throat, taking it away only when he was standing upright again.

"Are you going to behave now?" Szayelaporro asked, watching the shinigami with a look of hatred on his delicate face.

"Ikkaku, please do as he says," Yumichika pleaded. "Don't give them an excuse to kill you."

"I'm not much good to them dead," Ikkaku growled. "They need me to keep you in line, remember?"

"Ikkaku…" Yumichika said plaintively. Though Ikkaku was correct, she kept seeing him in her mind's eye getting his throat slit. The image terrified her.

"All right, fine," Ikkaku muttered grudgingly after another moment of glaring at the scientist standing over him.

Yumichika let out a sigh of relief, dropping back into her chair. Though she loathed the idea of cooperating with their captors, right now it was foolish to resist. Aizen wanted both of them alive, but there were plenty of ways to hurt them without resulting in their deaths. Compliance was the best option at the moment.

Szayelaporro sheathed his weapon, then took hold of Ikkaku's arm again and implanted the microchip, though he was none too gentle in doing so. When he removed the needle, he made no effort to stop the bleeding, instead snapping Ikkaku's wrist back into the handcuffs behind his back.

The scientist turned to a nearby computer terminal, fingers flying over the keyboard, typing rapidly. If Yumichika had been looking, she would have seen that he was checking the communication between the tracking program and the microchips, ensuring that both were functioning properly. When he had verified that everything was working as expected, he gave a curt nod, then straightened up.

"Take them," he barked disdainfully at the other two espada. "Get them out of my sight."


Ikkaku stumbled as he was shoved unceremoniously through a door. He managed to keep his feet, but when he turned around to snarl his indignation at the blonde espada woman, he found himself with an armful of Yumichika as she was also propelled into the room. They collided rather hard, and Ikkaku had to take a step back to keep from being knocked over.

Their two escorts left without a word or a backwards glance, the door closing and sealing itself shut as they departed. What Ikkaku was now looking at was more like a wall than a door, no knob or hinges visible. Even the gap between the door and the wall was near impossible to make out, just a hair-thin line. A piece of paper would have a hard time getting into it, to say nothing of one's fingers.

They were trapped in here.

"Fucking assholes!" Ikkaku swore, letting go of Yumichika as she pushed away from him to stand on her own feet. He rubbed at the red marks on his wrists, left behind by the metal handcuffs. After staring daggers at the door for a moment, as if Ulquiorra and Halibel could somehow feel his ire, he turned around to survey their prison.

They were in a small room with no furniture, save a bed against the opposite wall. The bed was just a mattress on legs with a blanket and pillow, though at least it meant they didn't have to sleep on the bare floor. It was small, but not too small for both of them, if they lay close to each other. Given the fact that Ikkaku often slept with his arms around Yumichika, that wouldn't be a problem.

The walls were plain white, and there were no windows, so they had no way to tell if they were near the outside or somewhere in the middle of the immense fortress of Las Noches. They could be underground, for all they knew.

There was, however, a door on the wall adjacent to the head of the bed. Curious, and a little suspicious, Ikkaku went over and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, and swung open easily.

On the other side was a tiny bathroom containing toilet, sink, and a towel ring with a hand-towel hanging on it. A bar of plain soap sat in a dish on the sink.

"What a pleasant surprise," Ikkaku said flatly. "I guess they don't like their prisoners smelling like shit after a few days." In reality, it was a pleasant surprise. The toilet was better than a hole in the ground—or worse, a corner of the room—and though he figured Yumichika had likely pushed her concern regarding appearances to the far back corner of her mind, he knew she would appreciate the soap and running water the sink provided. Ikkaku didn't find the idea of not bathing for days on end very appealing, either. A bar of soap and tap water was definitely better than nothing.

He closed the door, turning back toward Yumichika. What he saw gave him pause.

The raven-haired woman was sitting on the bed, leaning forward with her face in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. Her hands were curled into loose fists over her eyes, and she was visibly shaking. She looked like she was crying.

The shaky sob that was her next breath confirmed it. She was crying.

"Yumi?" Ikkaku asked tentatively, quickly going to her side. Yumichika didn't cry often. She was a strong woman, and although she thought deliberately hiding one's emotions to appear "tough" was ridiculous, she rarely let her own emotions get the better of her. She only cried when she was really upset, and usually over an injustice done to someone she cared about, rather than herself. Given their current situation, however, Ikkaku could hardly fault his lover for letting tears fall.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting next to her and putting his arm around her shoulders. He leaned in close, speaking into her ear. "It's okay, babe. I'm here with you."

"That's why I'm crying!" Yumichika burst out, looking up at him, letting him see her pink, tear-streaked face. "They only brought you here to make me behave! You'd still be back home if it weren't for me!"

Ikkaku sighed. He knew it. As usual, her tears were for someone else, not herself. As narcissistic and self-centered as she appeared on the outside, she really was a sensitive, caring soul. She was fully capable of taking care of herself, so finding herself in harsh predicaments didn't even make her blink, but to see others in peril because of her was more than she could bear.

"Yumi," he said, placing his hand against her cheek so she couldn't look away again. His black eyes met her wisteria ones. "I'm glad they brought me here with you. If I was back in Soul Society right now, I'd be going crazy with worry. I'd tear a hole through the dimensions myself to get to you." He wiped away a tear with his thumb. "It's for the best that they took me, too. There's nowhere I'd rather be in a situation like this than by your side."

"Kaku…" she said softly, using the nickname usually reserved for the bedroom. On the rare occasions she used it while not in the throes of conjugal bliss, it meant that she was feeling vulnerable, unsure of herself and needing his attention and comfort. Yumichika was hardly a helpless, fragile flower of a girl, and could handle adversity better than any man Ikkaku had ever known, including himself. To see her so desperate like this sent an arrow straight into the third seat's heart.

"No more crying now," he admonished gently, brushing tears from her cheek. "C'mon, show me the little Amazon I fell in love with."

Yumichika smiled in spite of herself. "Little Amazon" was his private nickname for her, though unlike her "Kaku," it wasn't used only during moments of passion or helplessness. Though the label of "Amazon" was often attached to women to disparage their femininity, Ikkaku used it as a term of affection and pride regarding her strength and capability. Yumichika had at first been indignant with the nickname, due to the usual meaning of the epithet, but over time had accepted and understood what Ikkaku meant by it, and now couldn't help but smile whenever it passed his lips.

"That's better," Ikkaku said, smiling back. He leaned forward, kissing her gently. He tasted the salt of her tears, felt the dryness of her lips. They were slightly chapped, the skin not as pliable as it usually was.

Yumichika shifted toward him to find a better angle, then suddenly stiffened, pulling back from the kiss with a hiss of discomfort. Ikkaku had placed his hand under her breasts affectionately, and the bruise there protested sharply, even his light touch causing pain to throb through her midsection.

"What is it?" Ikkaku asked, his eyebrows drawing downward in concern. He frowned as Yumichika gingerly removed his hand from her body, wondering what he could have done to cause her such pain.

"Nnoitra," Yumichika said, "the espada that defeated me, punched me there. He hit me so hard, I passed out." She grimaced at the memory. "It felt like he hit me with a sledgehammer. For someone so thin, he packs a lot of strength."

"He's a hollow," Ikkaku nodded. "Their outward appearance hardly ever tells you what they're capable of." He tugged at the edge of her kosode that crossed over her chest. "Let me see it."

Yumichika nodded and helped him open the garment, pulling her arms from the sleeves and letting it fall to her waist, where her hakama and sash held it snugly against her body.

Ikkaku drew in a sharp breath when he saw the angry mark on his lover's upper belly, the dark purple contrasting vividly with the paleness of her skin. It was considerably larger than a fist, the blood escaping from her ruptured capillaries invading the surrounding tissues as room for it at the site of impact ran out. The area was slightly swollen, tender to the touch and very painful.

"Oh, man," Ikkaku groaned. "He hit you hard. It's going to take a long time to heal."

"Yeah," Yumichika said, almost whispering. She winced as he very lightly touched the contusion, reflexively smacking his hand away.

"Sorry," Ikkaku apologized quickly. In all honesty, he wasn't sure why he had touched it when just looking at it was enough to tell him how bad it was.

"I can't imagine what he would have done if Aizen hadn't instructed him to bring me back relatively unhurt," Yumichika said, pulling her kosode back on, covering the bruise up again. She shuddered, remembering his blatant threat of rape. There was no doubt in her mind that he was fully capable of forcing himself on her and any other woman he took an interest in. She kept quiet, deciding that Ikkaku didn't need to know about the arrancar's salacious comments to her. It would just make him angry, and needlessly so.

"Speaking of Aizen," Ikkaku said after a moment of silence, "what did he mean, you have a power that he wants? What the hell is he talking about?"

Inwardly, Yumichika blanched. She had been dreading that question, which she knew Ikkaku would ask sooner or later. Outwardly, she shook her head, feigning ignorance.

"I don't know," she lied. "You heard what I said to him. I have no idea what he's talking about. I have no special abilities or powers that he could want. He's just…crazy for even thinking so." Something stirred in the back of her mind, and another wave of dread washed over her, this one not caused by Ikkaku, but by someone else entirely.

"Are you sure?" Ikkaku asked slowly, watching her carefully. He had no reason to doubt her, but Aizen going through all the trouble of kidnapping them over a mistake just seemed ridiculous. The man had planned for decades to betray Soul Society, with no one suspecting him until it was too late. It was completely unlike Aizen not to know exactly what he was doing and how to do it.

Yumichika nodded. "Yes, I'm sure."

Enough of this grotesque lie, a voice suddenly growled in her head. You shame yourself, my mistress. Just tell him about me. I will be revealed to him before long, you can be sure. Spare yourself the humiliation and tell him yourself before the traitor does.

Hush! Yumichika shot back. If I am ever going to tell Ikkaku about you, it will be by my own decision, not yours.

You never should have kept me secret in the first place, the voice asserted, angry and indignant.

Be still, I said! Yumichika commanded. It took a considerable amount of effort to keep her irritation from showing on her face.

She suddenly noticed that Ikkaku was speaking again, and she had almost missed the question. "Do you think Aizen might be talking about some power you have that you don't even know about yet?"

"I don't see how," Yumichika said, looking down. "If I don't even know about it yet, I don't see how he could." The voice in her head gave a derisive "tch." She made no response.

"We don't know what Aizen's capable of," Ikkaku insisted. "He took everyone by surprise when he betrayed Soul Society. Who knows what he may know about you, me, or anyone else? He spent decades planning his betrayal, after all."

"It's possible," Yumichika admitted. "But I don't think it's at all probable."

"Are you sure you have no idea what Aizen's talking about?" Ikkaku asked again. His gaze was penetrating, and Yumichika would have had a hard time looking into his eyes and lying at the same time if she wasn't already so skilled in hiding the truth. This was the only thing she kept secret from Ikkaku, and she had become an expert in doing so.

"I'm sure, Ikkaku," she replied, nodding again. "I've already said that."

"Yumichika," he said, placing a hand on either side of her face, staring directly into her eyes, making sure she couldn't look away. "Are you telling me the truth?" He spoke slowly, deliberately.

"Of course I am," Yumichika murmured, a hurt expression on her face. "Please, don't doubt me, Ikkaku. It stings to even think that you could."

A stellar performance, as always, the voice in her head sneered. You are a consummate actress, my mistress.

Yumichika ignored the voice.

Ikkaku drew back, letting go of her. Guilt constricted his heart. She was right, how could he doubt her? After all their years together, it was inconceivable that she would lie to him, especially about something this important. Aizen was sorely mistaken about Yumichika. There was nothing she had that he could possibly want. The idea that the traitorous ex-captain may want her carnally crossed his mind, but he shoved the thought away. He couldn't dwell on that.

"I'm sorry, Yumi," he apologized. "You know I could never doubt you. I…I'm just a little stressed right now, is all."

"It's okay," Yumichika said, accepting his apology. "I understand."

Acting like you're the injured party! the voice cried, laughing bitterly. How utterly absurd!

Again, Yumichika refused to respond.

"There's a bathroom through there," Ikkaku said, gesturing toward the door by the bed. "You can get cleaned up in there. Then, I think we should get some sleep."

"Yeah," Yumichika agreed, standing up. "I'm exhausted." As she passed Ikkaku, she laid a hand against his cheek, caressing it affectionately.

Ikkaku leaned into the touch, his eyes sliding closed. He opened them again when her hand left his skin, and as she turned the knob on the door, he spoke. "Things'll be okay, Yumi. We'll get out of here, I promise."

The smile she gave him was thin, almost sad. Then she disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.


Ikkaku exited the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind him. After Yumichika had washed up, Ikkaku had done the same for himself as she settled into bed. He had rinsed away the remnants of the blood that had spattered him upon killing the two arrancar grunts in Seireitei, as well as the evidence of his and Yumichika's activities in the training room. He knew Yumichika must have done the same.

He had almost burst a blood vessel when the espada named Nnoitra had loudly called his lover a cunt who couldn't keep her legs shut. Thinking about it made his blood boil even now. Gods, he wanted to rip that arrancar's balls off for daring to speak of her in such a degrading way! Although, he would gladly let Yumichika do it instead if she wanted to. She couldn't have appreciated the comments any more than Ikkaku had.

Yumichika was lying in the bed, her back to the room. She had made sure Ikkaku had enough room to lie down as well, being closer to the wall than to the outside edge. Her hakama was neatly folded, lying on the floor by the foot of the bed, her waraji and tabi on top of it. She normally slept in a yukata, so removing her hakama to sleep in her kosode was probably the most comfortable for her. The hakama didn't appear to have its sash with it, meaning she was likely using the white length of fabric to hold the kosode closed.

Ikkaku decided to follow suit, removing his footwear and lower garment and depositing them next to Yumichika's (not as neatly, of course). After tying the sash around his waist with a loose knot, he slipped into bed, spooning against her. He gently wound an arm around her, careful not to touch her upper belly.

"G'night, love," he murmured, placing a feather-light kiss behind her ear. She stirred, but did not wake.

I'll protect you, Yumi, he said mentally, closing his eyes and holding her as tightly as he dared. I won't let anything happen to you.

To be continued…

Author's Notes: I would have liked to have gotten this chapter posted at least a week ago, but Real Life insisted in getting in the way. Work and health issues, mainly. Yay.

Anyway, it's posted now. Yumi is being chastised by a voice in her head. I'm sure you all can take a pretty good guess as to whom that voice belongs to.

The syringes Szayelaporro used to implant microchips in Ikkaku and Yumichika are based upon the syringes used to microchip dogs and cats by veterinarians. I worked in an animal hospital for three years, and clients would get their pets chipped fairly frequently. The real-life microchip doesn't send out a homing signal like the ones in this story, but it allows the animal to be identified with a scanner if they're ever lost. The needles used to implant the chips are crazy big. I can't imagine getting poked with one of those things. (Surprisingly, most animals don't seem to be bothered by it.)

As usual, please leave a review. I would love to hear what you think of this fanfic. Feedback is my drug of choice.