The female Fraccion bathed her with ginger, tender hands, careful to avoid freshly stitched wounds. The water was warm and comforting, but Blanca's head lolled over her shoulders, eyes barely open, her breathing shallow and choppy.

She was finally free. There were no more bones. All gone. No more infection, no more sickness, no more red.

Just blue and clean and happy and tired.

She could see Grimmjow's back turned to her. He hadn't said anything, but he hadn't left, even when the fraccion had undressed her to amputate the remaining bones.

He had carried her all the way to the hospital quarters. Miles and miles from her chambers. The whole way, he hadn't spoken a word. His eyes were dark, his mouth fixed into a frown. He didn't look angry, though, which she would have liked more than this gloomy silence. He looked overworked; there were circles beneath his eyes. He looked beaten and defeated.

That scared her, but she didn't say anything to him, either. She watched him carefully through her feathered eyelashes, but not a muscle in his back twitched, nothing moved.

Where was the yelling? Where was the fit? Where was the beating and the pain and the hurt?

"I am very thankful of you bringing her here, Sexta Espada-sama," The fraccion said, clearly taking a chance. "She would have died in the next few hours."

Brave girl.

Grimmjow let out a husky, gravelly sigh that sounded more like a growl. His shoulders shifted powerfully and he leaned back onto his palms.

"She was an eyesore." He said gruffly. His voice was deeper than usual. It was scratched and rough.

See? You're an ugly little bitch.

Blanca smiled, though. She knew he couldn't see her, but she smiled anyway.

"You're back," she said to him. She was frightened by how weak and quiet her voice sounded.

He tilted his head to the side, like he was thinking something over.

"Yeah."

"However," the fraccion went on. There was clear fear in her voice now. "The growth will not stop just because I've cut the bones off. She will still die, even if the process is slowed down."

Still going to die.

Grimmjow didn't say anything. He had probably known that, anyway. But Blanca didn't mind. She was going to die someday anyway.

"Grimm," Blanca began, and he finally looked at her. His eyes were devoid of the fire and the spark. "Grimm, what happened when you were gone?"

He didn't answer her question. His shoulders were quaking. She braced herself, waiting for the fist to come around and hit her.

He laughed.

It was a horrible laugh. She hated that laugh. It was the laugh after he hurt someone, after he had killed someone.

It was a happy laugh.

"What the hell did you do to piss Ulquiorra off?" he asked, nearly shouting with glee. Her insides shuddered and she wished to curl away from him, but her broken body prohibited her from moving. "Priceless! Fucking priceless!"

She was scared now.

"Stop," she said. "Stop laughing."

But he didn't hear her.

"Get yer fucking clothes on, ballerina! If I drag you outta here naked, people're gonna talk! "

He whipped around, grasping her head like a basketball and raising her out of the tub. Her toes barely touched the surface of the warm water. She was too tired to cover herself up. He shook her like a ragdoll, laughing with a crazed gleam in his azure eyes.

The fraccion was terrified now, and she was able to throw a white robe onto Blanca's shoulders.

"Grimmjow-sama, I don't think that's wise—"

The fraccion's head went flying across the room. The blood made the water pink. Blanca's robe was splashed with red.

REDHOLYFUCKREDNONONO

Blanca screamed.

Grimmjow was alarmed, and he dropped her onto the ground where she crumpled, the robe covering her like a blanket. She shook.

NO MORE RED NO NO NO BLOOD BLOOD NO!

She was done with red, no more blood, no more hurt no more rot no more infection NONONONO

"ULQUIORRA!"

Her voice lacerated the air. It was shrill and high, unpleasant, and she flinched at the sound, even if it was her own.

"Savemedon'twanttodielikethisnononoNO!" she shrieked.

Her volume lowered into rapid, nonsensical stammering. Her mind was blank but her mouth kept moving. Her eyes were closed tightly and she took salvation in the darkness behind her eyelids.

Grimmjow must have been talking to her, because there were voices outside her own, but she couldn't hear the words. There was a silence that was ringing in her ears, a silence that was loud and screamed at her.

The hands that stood her on her feet were cold. They wrapped the robe around her body almost tenderly, covering her up. The cloth was warm.

God, there's something wrong with me.

She tried very hard to slow down her breathing. In, out. Don't hyperventilate.

She opened her eyes and she could see the purple of bruises on her alabaster skin, blotchy and ugly.

"Grimmjow, keep your whore covered up. She's an eyesore."

She raised her head and she saw her mother's eyes again, set into a face that she hated.

"I'm nobody's whore." She whispered.

The hands let go of her. Like they were afraid of her. She felt powerful. She wanted to laugh.

The power felt good. She could feel it beneath her skin, racing in her blood. She wasn't sick anymore. She was better now. Much better.

She swung her hand out in a wide arc and felt the back of it connect with cold skin. Her wrist snapped painfully. Broken again. She didn't care. She shook it. It bobbed up and down uselessly. It was funny, in a sick kind of way.

Grimmjow laughed.

"You crazy bitch!" He howled, the mirth clear in his voice. "You lunatic little fuck!"

Ulqiuorra said nothing. She listened to his footsteps leave.

A/N: kay. New chapter. Lol. Um. I don't know. PLEASE review! I know there are people out there who are faving the story but I get no reviews! C'mon, cut me some slack. Don't be freeloaders. XD