Chapter 7
Err.....gotten a few comments directed at OOCness. Sorry. I've tried to keep the characters fairly IC, but it's tricky. ;)
Hope you like the chapter anyway.
Tite Kubo own Bleach.
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Szayel was feeling pretty smug as he strode up to where Nnoitra was standing. The pimp didn't seem overly upset, so Szayel was probably just ahead of the idiots trying to steal Ishida.
Nnoitra caught sight of the pink-haired man and growled angrily. "I thought I told you to stay away from here. You're never seeing Ishida and the girls are off limits."
"You're never going to see Ishida either unless you listen up Nnoitra," Szayel said, putting extra emphasis on the name. He arrogantly watched as the pimp studied him. Nnoitra suddenly grabbed Szayel by the collar and slammed his body against the brick wall.
"What did you do with Uryuu?" the taller man seethed. He was going to kill this little weasel if anything had happened to his property.
"That blue-haired fellow kidnapped him. In about five minutes he's going to come along with your whore's bloodied shirt and a gun," Szayel informed him. "I saw it all Nnoitra. Ishida's with some kid named….Innigo? Isaacgo?"
"ICHIGO!" Nnoitra fumed. It was that little orange-haired bastard?
"Yeah, that's it."
"Where are they?" Nnoitra asked, dropping Szayel.
"I forget. I could remember if you say… give me five thousand dollars."
"Three thousand."
"Four."
"Deal," Nnoitra stuck out his hand and shook Szayel's.
At that moment a blue-haired masochist walked up to them.
"Your prostitute's dead, Nnoitra. Fucking bastard killed himself," Grimmjow told the pimp. Before he could launch into his story, Nnoitra had punched him so hard he was laid out flat on the pavement. Grimmjow tried to get up, but a black boot landed on his chest. He gasped for air as it pressed harder.
"I already got that story, Grimmjow. You and that Ichigo are dead. No one steals from Nnoitra Jiruga." The tall man drew a gun.
BANG!
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Ichigo woke up the next morning, happier then he had been in ages. Morning was already well underway and he felt slightly guilty for sleeping so late. He reached over to find his bed mate missing.
He jolted in bed and looked frantically around the room. It was completely destroyed, as if someone had gone through every orifice in search of something. Ichigo heard a moan from the bathroom. Distressed, he ran over to find Ishida hugging the toilet for dear life as he vomited. He was still nude from the previous night's activities. Ishida wearily slumped to the floor. He was shivering violently, and his eyes were so dilated his irises were gone.
Ichigo swore loudly. He had been expecting this, just not so soon. He went back to the bedroom and shuffled through the debris in search of Ishida's treatment bag. After finding the young man drugged, he had done some serious research on heroin addiction. Withdrawals were like a horrible case of the flu times ten. It lasted about a week to two weeks depending on how long the person had been using it. While they were hiding, Ichigo could only try to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay until he could check Ishida into a rehab clinic.
Ichigo finally found the bag he was looking for. With relief, he pulled out Imodium, ten bottles of vitamin water and some xanax, a panic disorder medicine. Ichigo went back into the bathroom and offered the medicine to Ishida. He helped the addict swallow the pills.
"Ichigo, did you bring any?" Ishida asked anxiously after the college student helped him sip some water from the tap. Ichigo instantly knew what Ishida wanted.
"No, I didn't. I'm going to help you stop. It's going to be hard, but it'll be worth it," the redhead said firmly.
"But I NEED IT!" the addict protested. Ichigo tried to help Ishida stand, but the ex-prostitute slumped against him. With a grunt, Ichigo picked Ishida up and carried him bridal style to the bed.
He stepped back to look at Ishida curled up on the covers. In the daylight, he saw just how skinny the young man was. Each rib protruded from his chest and lifted with each tired pant. His stretched over his shrunken stomach was pale pasty skin that was now breaking out in sweat. Ichigo felt like crying.
He dug through the bags until he found some comfortable clothes. After dressing both himself and Ishida, he started to clean up the mess of strewn items. No doubt, Ishida had searched all morning for a needle.
With that chore done, the redhead's stomach decided it was time for breakfast. As if on cue, there was a soft knock on the door. Ichigo peered through the peep hole before throwing open the door.
Orihime and Renji stood on the threshold bearing a bag of McDonald's.
Ichigo saw the distress in their eyes. Something was wrong.
"What is it? What happened?"
"Grimmjow was shot."
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Ulquiorra was in shock. He was curled up in the waiting room of the ICU after finding his best friend and lover bleeding to death on the sidewalk. He hadn't cried or begged for Grimmjow to stay with him as he rode in the ambulance. Ulquiorra could only sit and stare at the wall.
"You brought in the gun-wound victim?" asked the nurse. It was like electricity shot through him. He jumped up and grabbed the nurse's shoulders.
"Tell me he's alright. Please!"
The nurse calmly removed the hands that had a death grip on her. She was used to panicky family members in the ICU. "He's in surgery," she informed him. "But we need to know who shot him. The officer would like to ask you a few questions. Can you handle that?"
The nurse was comforting, Ulquiorra thought. He now noticed the cop standing by the door eyeing him suspiciously. "I can do that."
They led him to a small room where he had a very routine interview with the cop. Name, address, who did it, why, when, where, accomplices. Ulquiorra answered as best he could.
"We were just helping out our friend. He wanted to do an intervention for this guy he met, and Nnoitra was his pimp," the albino finished lamely.
"We've had Nnoitra in our records for a while. These testimonies might finally help us catch him. Thank you for your time. I hope your friend pulls through alright." The cop left.
Ulquiorra made his way back to the sitting room. He mindlessly shuffled through the outdated magizines on the table. He watched a burn victim, a car accident, and a heart attack go through the emergency door before the doctor came out. The white haired man looked very sad and aloof as he held his clipboard in a tight grip.
"I'm Dr. Ryuuken. Grimmjow is currently stable. He had a gunshot to the chest. Thankfully, it smashed into a rib which we think deflected it off to the side where it exited. He'll be on sleeping medication for the next few days to speed up the healing process. If you'd like to see him, I'll have the nurse show you in. But don't wake him." The nice nurse from earlier waved for him to follow over Ryuuken's shoulder.
In intensive care, Grimmjow was hooked up to five machines and an IV.
Ulquiorra walked in and sat down next to the unconscious body.
"Grimmjow," Ulquiorra whispered the name. He took the blue haired man's hand and gently kissed the index finger. Tears were slowly cascading down his cheek. "I love you. I know I haven't said it until now, but it's true. I know you love me too, although you don't tell me."
Grimmjow didn't even flinch.
