AN : What the hell is up with the extreme over abundance of m-preg GrimmIchi stories? Seriously now? That is why I hate 14 year olds who think they can write. It's like they are trying to justify enjoying two guys fucking by basically turning one of them into a girl. Whatever, give me dick and lots of it in my stories, I can't stand reading trash like that.
I found my voice rather painfully halfway down the hallway. "Get the fuck off of me!" I croaked, words coming out choppy and in agony.
"Shut the hell up," Renji spat back at me, ignoring the nails I was sinking into his forearm.
He tossed me into an open room like I was a discarded doll, my body falling against the wood floor with a hollow thud. His foot trapped me to the ground, my body unable to function under his weight. I was furious, I couldn't see straight because I wanted to slaughter him so badly. I wanted to rip his head from his shoulders and splatter the walls crimson every time I heard his voice.
"What should we do with him, Captain?" I heard him ask.
Captain Pretentious answered with his bored drawl, "I don't care what you do with him, you've made this your problem."
"You won't help me at all with this?" I was secretly glad Byakuya wasn't helping.
"He's got another four hours to trial, Vice-Captain, if you can't wait another four hours to see him die, be my guest and kill him now." My heart sunk.
I was to be killed by the shinigami. Not just any shinigami though, a shinigami that was not Kurosaki Ichigo. That made me angrier than anything they could have done to me.
I was sitting in the center of the room, gagged and chained to the floor when the door opened and Ichigo was tossed in violently. His head cracked against the floorboards so hard I was certain blood and brains should have just started pouring out. Our eyes met briefly, but I couldn't see Ichigo in them. I couldn't even see that angry Hollow he kept trapped within. I saw malice, frustration, desperation and hatred glaring back at me before his body was given the same fate as mine.
You could have called it a trial if you wanted to, but it was more like the proceedings to an execution. Three people I assumed were Captains joined Byakuya, Renji and that bitch that shoved her steel through my throat. They just sat, talking to each other about how they should handle the situation. There was a silver haired captain that seemed rather laid back about the entire situation, a guy with a really big grin and a creepy hat and a man who flirted with Soi Fong the whole time.
"I don't think we should kill him, I could use him as a test subject," the creepy one said.
"Kurotsuchi, I don't think even you could handle this man when he's been healed," the silver haired man replied.
"Captain Ukitake, if I may say something we all probably know, it wouldn't be that hard to keep him contained because of his current condition," Byakuya snorted.
"I don't understand why we are having this conversation either way, he's the only remained Espada, yes?" the man in the pink kimono asked no one in particular.
"I don't see your point," Byakuya stated.
"He can't be that dangerous if he's the only one left," he muttered, slightly defeated under the cold captain.
"And then there is the question of just what we should do with Kurosaki," Soi Fong spat at Ichigo. I watched as his expression remained steadfast, even under her heavy glare. "We gave you a bit of a break after your little incident in Hueco Mundo, but this is a little far."
I wanted to say something, but the gag in my mouth was making my words come out in gibberish.
"I knew something had changed, Ichigo, but I could never imagine what exactly you were up to. With an Arrancar, no less!" Renji said with anger.
I was still trying to speak, my voice picking up as the captains continued to make their decisions.
"Death to the both of them," Byakuya finally stated. "We don't need the liability of keeping an Espada or his plaything around."
"At least give them the chance to speak before condemning them, Captain Kuchiki," Ukitake said before walking over and finally pulling the fabric from my bone dry mouth.
I said the only thing that could get Ichigo out of the situation. I didn't stop to consider his feelings and I certainly refused to look at him as I spoke the words that would save his life.
"He had no choice in the matter," I said with a scratchy, low voice.
Ukitake narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean, exactly?"
"I mean, I fucking raped him, dumbass," I spat, the anger seeping into my words. I chanced a look at the boy and saw the sorrow dripping off his features. Determined to continue the story, I plastered a wide grin across my face and continued, "If you even thought he actually wanted me, you'd have to be fucking crazy. Why do you think he's so bloodied up? I nearly had to beat the bastard into submis-"
A foot slammed against the side of my head with a crack and I fell sideways, that tell-tale grin still welded to my face as I stared up at Renji. "Trash," he spat, suddenly believing everything he had seen earlier was nothing more than a clever ruse set up by Ichigo to conceal his secret.
I continued to speak with painful words, convinced that my throat had reopened and blood would start pouring through the bandages at any moment. "I don't give a shit about what you do to me, I really don't, but I would rather you not take it out on the kid."
"Give me one good reason," Byakuya said, his back turned.
"Because I can't help how fucking hard he makes me."
That was the end for me. I was tossed back into that black dungeon with my arms bound and my zanpakutou still missing. It was strange not having it stuck through my sash all the time. I assumed Ichigo had been set free, but at that point in time I wasn't sure. All I knew was that his expression was filled with the same anger and amusement it was the first time I fought him, which is the reason I fell so hard in the first place.
As I sat in that cell for the next however many days it was, my body started deteriorating. I was so starved my ribs had begun to poke out and my cheeks were sunken. Each time the door wretched open and they came in to change the blood soaked bandages and poke me full of holes, I couldn't see for nearly an hour because the light was so blinding. I didn't know what they were injecting me with, but it would seem that I was to rot in that place being used as a lab rat.
I could feel my life slipping out of my fingers on what I assumed was day number five or six. I couldn't keep my eyes open, even though I wasn't able to see anything with them to begin with. I was laying on my side, my arms collapsed against the cold ground, the feeling of my collar bone snapping slowly under my waning weight. I could have rolled over to relieve the shooting pain, but that pain continued to remind me I was alive, that I could still make it through and that I could still kiss his lips again.
I had a dream about being a human again, which was strange. I hadn't had a dream like that in so many years I'd lost count of the days. Last count was over eighteen years, but somehow I had another one so suddenly. I was young again, running through the rolling hills of my family's farm, laughing with my sister as we played tag in the field of waist high corn stalks. I was older than her by almost fifteen years, she was the bastard child of one of my father's many affairs, but my mother adopted her and raised her as her own. On my twenty first birthday, she gave me a tiny rock that had been polished clean by the river and told me that it was a stone that had fallen from the heavens.
I died three days later, a victim to that same river when the rains came and threatened to sweep away her tiny body. I never regretted jumping in that river, I only regret not being able to let her live her life. She never forgot about me, but my anger toward my abusive, adulterous father drove me to begin the fantastic process of becoming a lost soul. I watched as he smacked her from room to room and beat her down when she missed small chores. I wasn't there to protect her anymore, even if I could see everything he was doing.
It's funny how the world turns the way it does. I became angry at his abusive tendencies, and thus became just like him.
I wanted to tell Ichigo about my life. I should have told him when he asked the first time, but I didn't want him to know how human I had once been. My persona is something I perfected over the years, and I didn't want to let anyone know just what had happened. The only people who had ever known were already dead, and I prayed my father had gone to hell and was still burning for what he did to my sister's frail body.
I woke up from that dream with tears running down my face as if my body could spare loosing the small amount of water that was still left in my heavy muscles. I twisted my body with more effort than it should have taken and faced what I assumed was the door.
They came in eventually, shoving needles into my skin and finally removed my bandages permanently.
"What are you giving me?" I asked wearily as the woman shoved another needle into my arm. I probably looked like a drug addict at that point.
"One is to keep you hydrated enough to keep you alive, one is a serum to dye the hollow platelets in your blood and the other is a sample of your blood to take back to Father," she said quickly and to the point. I could never make out her face, but she always worked quietly and efficiently, like a robot.
"What are you doing to me?" I muttered, trying not to pass out from the fatigue.
"We've never encountered a true Arrancar before, and an Espada at that. We are trying to determine what makes you so powerful," she stated.
She was gone before I could continue asking questions. The room fell dark again and the color spots I usually got from peering at the sun ran across my vision for several hours. I was passing in and out of consciousness on a pretty regular basis, always waking up with those tears running down my face, but I could never figure out why.
The door opened again, and I thought I was at least in enough health to know that it wasn't even close to the time that whore and her troops came marching in to shoot my body up.
"You're really early today, bitch," I muttered, rolling away from the door to escape the white light. My eyes were so jacked up that I couldn't even comprehend that there was a shape standing in it. She walked over, more loudly than normal and began cutting at the ropes around my wrists and ankles. "Oh, finally decide you want to get in on the action too?" I asked her, my sarcasm and grin still present in the face of my own destruction. Any normal person probably would have assumed I'd had five times the legal amount of alcohol with how badly my words were slurred together.
"Shut up," a voice said. It wasn't her voice, hell, it wasn't even female.
"What the hell, did they fire the woman?" I uttered.
"Yes, and I'm your new doctor and we need to get you somewhere else that I can take a little better care of you," the deep male voice grunted as I felt my body raising off the cold floor and pressed against something warm that smelled deeply of metal and pain.
"But I kind of liked the floor, I found a comfortable spot with a dip I could put my shoulder into," I laughed as my head knocked against something hard, sending pain shooting through my brain.
"Fuck," the voice muttered as I felt my legs wrap around something, I assumed it was whoever had picked me off the floor. "I'm certain you weight less than I do right now."
"I feel like I weigh a million fucking kilos," I cursed, my arms flopping over someone's... shoulders?
"Yeah, well being a dead weight isn't exactly helping me either," the voice continued. "Shut your eyes, we are leaving the dark."
I just did what the voice said, it seemed to know what was going on. Screwing my eyes shut, I smiled against the person that appeared to be carrying me like I was as light as a feather.
"Can I tell you something before you stick me full of needles, new doctor man?" I asked, my brain finally falling over the small ledge that kept me between controlled sanity and uncontrolled insanity.
"What is that?" he grunted under my weight.
"I did something stupid and now I'm never going to get to see my sister again," I spoke in a singsong voice.
"Why won't you be able to see your sister?"
"Because I was going to let Ichigo kill me and I would have spent the rest of my new life searching for her in Soul Society so I could hug her and tell her that daddy wouldn't beat her ever again," I laughed, those tears falling out of my closed eyes again.
"You'll still be able to see her, Grimmjow," the voice said with a sad voice.
"Nope, because you won't let me die by the hand of a shinigami, you will just let me wither away until I am nothing more than a shriveled soul," I smiled. "And she can't love an empty shell."
"I promise, Grimmjow, you will see her again."
And for some reason, I believed the voice. It somehow was very comforting to me in my rattled state of mind.
AN : You like my fictitious Grimmjow memories? I'm trying to go after the tragic flaw characteristics of the poor man.
I hate this chapter. It's heartbreaking for me to have to read it four times, looking for mistakes because it's just so... pathetic? Sad? I hate what I do to these two, but it will make them stronger.
Revieeeeew. Because the next chapter will take awhile to come out and if you bother me I'll write it faster.