Grimmjow woke, hair still drenched from a shower he didn't remember taking. His body shuddered as he tried to get up and he sank back face first on his pillow. When his eyes shut he felt as if his brain was spinning in his head, memories surfaced with as much clarity as what he saw with his waking eyes—not torture, but old faces long lost in the sands of Hueco Mundo. He lay there clutching his pillow tight as it was the only thing that didn't feel like it was spinning.
Eventually it became too much. He leaned over the side of the bed and vomited. He tried sitting to improve the situation but he only felt worse.
"I brought your meal." Hanatora chimed but stopped short when he saw his state. "Uh, are you okay?"
"What did that motherfucker do to me?"
Grimmjow stood but it only increased his disorientation and the floor slammed up to meet him.
"Fuck."
"Uh...I'll go get captain!"
The little soul reaper scurried out of the room. Moments later Unohana came to Grimmjow's aid and they got him upstairs to the Fourth.
"I'm afraid this time it is caused by Captain Kurotsuchi's machine." Unohana determined after she'd examined his eyes and ears and he'd thrown up again. "It's a condition called vertigo, I can give you something to help but only a break from the machine will end it completely."
It had been ten days or so since Ichigo's departure and Kurotsuchi had come by every day since. Most of Grimmjow's days were a confusing mess of memories and now his dreams were the same. Though it wasn't exactly painful—unless the memory itself was—it was exhausting and disorienting, and every day it seemed to take him longer to return from his own mind. Grimmjow was starting to worry he might not come back some day.
Of course he never voiced this allowed. And he never said a thing to Unohana to indicate he desperately needed the reprieve she talked about.
"I'll speak to him."
Grimmjow didn't dare hope this would result in anything, but she must have succeeded because next thing he was moved to a guarded room with the little soul reaper Hanataro watching over him. They did what they could to relieve the symptoms of his vertigo. After a day or so, he was back to equilibrium, but exhausted and the nightmares and dreams still seemed to roll on into his waking life.
"You're becoming complacent." Grimmjow jolted at the cold voice, coming too from another restless sleep. Not seeing his cell walls only added to his confusion and his eyes swept the dark room seeing only the short dark haired figure before him.
"Ulquiorra?"
"Look how they've tamed you. Is it possible you've grown accustomed to living in a cage, letting others make the decisions for you?"
"BASTARD!"
"Grimmjow!" The lights came on. Now he saw that the small dark haired figure was in fact Hanataro. He took a step back and bumped into his bed—he hadn't even realized he'd left it.
"Are you alright?" Hanataro looked more than half scared of him despite the fact he had no spiritual pressure.
"I'm fine." Grimmjow looked anywhere but the boy. "I just need to go to the bathroom."
He hated that he was followed all the way there. He despised that the small medic hovered outside the door. Even when it was shut and he was for once alone and unseen, his sharp ears could still hear Hanataro's steady breaths in the hallway as he listened for any signs of irregularities.
Grimmjow gripped the sink. Phantom or not, Ulquiorra was right. What the fuck was he doing? At first he'd been biding his time. Then he'd thought he might be able to manipulate Ichigo or Unohana but neither seemed quick to let themselves be duped. Now here he was, weeks later, still a prisoner, and they were messing with his head again. The longer it went on, the greater the risk he might not snap back, he might get lost in the memories forever.
His fist was through the mirror without thought. He knew the soul reaper would hear the clatter of broken glass on white porcelain. A glob of blood ran down the side of his hand and splashed on the shards, making his own face shimmer back a hundred times, cast in crimson.
"Fuck them all."
He ran at the door with the largest of the shards. Hanataro opened it just in time to meet its edge and let Grimmjow use his momentum to slide past. The shock of the attack threw the soul reaper off more than the thin slice just under his eye and he was still staring at the broken mirror when Grimmjow's footstep were out of range.
"Oh no!" Hanataro spun back to find the hallway empty and realized he hadn't followed the sound—he didn't know which way the prisoner had gone. "I'm going to be in big trouble."
It wasn't exactly freedom Grimmjow felt, when he slipped out into the dark streets of the seireitei. No, it was more like the feeling of being a mouse in a labyrinth. He knew the sprawling layout quite well, both from his training and his walks with Ichigo, and he knew that there was no quick way out from where he was now. If there had been, there would be a chance he could get to the slums of the rukon districts and disappear in the sea of other beings with little to no spiritual pressure.
He still held his shard. It had cut his hand open and probably spilt more of his blood than the little soul reapers' but it had succeeded in distracting the healer. He knew there was little hope of escape but there was no turning back now.
He got about a kilometre before he felt the weight of approaching spiritual pressure. He ran all the harder but there was no escaping it and he knew his only chance of at least prolonging his inevitable capture was hiding. Since he had no spiritual pressure to track, they were blind to his presence.
He took as many turns as he could, picturing the top-down diagram of the network of high-walled streets Aizen had made him study. He succeeded in reaching an open courtyard where he knew there were decorative benches, a pond and small gazebo near it. It took him seconds to scale the small structure and launch himself from the roof onto the wall. Once up here, he gave himself more distance, moving with ease along the tops of the walls with a perfect view of the moonlit city before him. If there had been cloud cover, he would have been nearly invisible up here, but with the moon out, when he heard approaching footsteps he had to flatten so as not to be seen. He was still visible, but they were searching the networking pathways for a being with no spiritual pressure—he had to hope they wouldn't think to look up.
A number of low ranking soul reapers passed by him. Their spiritual pressure still made him shake where he lay. He almost forgot that the Fourth and Twelfth Division members who dealt with him also held back their power when near him. He felt another wave of bitterness and looked to the shard in his hand again.
There was one last thing he hadn't tried.
"He was indeed up here, sir," Nemu called from the top of the wall. "This blood is his."
"Damn. We need him unharmed," Kurotsuchi swore. "He holds far too much valuable information in that head of his."
Though Kurotsuchi continued to search Grimmjow's memories of the Vandenreich homeworld, he was now more interested in the weapons Aizen had developed and hid away in Las Noches. According to Grimmjow's memories, he had an arsenal of power that could be of great use to them in this war.
"Come on out espada! You've had your fun now its time to go back."
He called to the seemingly empty streets, but even if the captain could feel no spiritual pressure, it didn't mean he couldn't still feel eyes on him.
"I see nothing, sir," Nemu admitted.
"Can't you feel him? That anger? It's almost disturbing how much of an aura one with no power can have." But he couldn't yet pinpoint Grimmjow's exact location so he moved a little further through the streets while Nemu searched from above.
"Sir, I see Captain Unohana."
"Alone?"
"At the overlook, I think she's found him."
They moved quickly that way. The path opened up before Kurotsuchi onto a grassy knoll where the walls fell away to only a short stone one where soldiers could keep a post or observers could look out onto the rukon districts. He couldn't see Grimmjow, but he knew at once where he was. He and Unohana each came around the small wall from a different side, boxing the espada in where he sat at the foot of the wall. One arm was draped over a raised knee, his eyes were fixed on shimmering fire light that spotted the mass of shacks in the rukon district.
The scent of blood filled the air.
"Grimmjow."
Kurotsuchi let Unohana take the lead, knowing he would only anger the espada and it would be best to take him back without harming him.
"Fuck you." Came the growl. He may have known his defeat, but he wasn't going to give in easily either.
"Where are you wounded?"
They could see the bloody shard glinting in his left hand. His palm was cut but they knew he'd hurt himself worse.
"I'm fucking fine, you know, being a fucking lab rat, letting this psycho mind-fuck me every day to the point I don't even know what's up or down." His eyes cut sideways in utter fury. "Literally."
"Grimmjow-"
"Just stop, you have me, you won, just stop fucking insulting me."
"I see." Kurotsuchi took a step closer. "You were smart enough to escape, and elude capture for over an hour. I'd say I was impressed, but I see you were also stupid enough to think a soul reaper seal could physically be removed."
Grimmjow turned his way and glared. Unohana let out a gasp seeing now what the other captain had picked up on. When Grimmjow turned his head in the opposite direction, she could see the terrible scrape and gashes at the bast of his neck where the spiritual seal had been seared into his skin.
Grimmjow shrugged, "would have kicked myself, if it really had been that simple." Then he turned back to the horizon. "Just do it already."
"Fine." Kurotsuchi let out a burst of his power that shocked Grimmjow's already weakened body enough that he slumped immediately unconscious against the wall. It was better than wounding him further if he struggled on the way back. Unohana let out a soft sigh before collecting him.
"No more reprieves to the Fourth." Kurotsuchi said on their way back. "Once you patch him up, he's coming back to the Twelfth."
"What the Hell Grimmjow?" Ichigo sighed, looking in on the figure who refused to look at him back, eyes fixed on a dark ceiling, hands held together on his lap by cuffs.
"Why did you try to escape? Why would you hurt yourself like that?" He'd gotten the full story from Hanataro—or most of it anyway.
"You don't know?"
"Sure I know you hate being a prisoner, but I thought you were smart enough to know you had a pretty good thing going. You had books, food, the Fourth Division member are kind—"
"Fuck you, you think I can be domesticated or something Kurosaki?" At this he sat up, stiffly. It had been three days since his escape and the wound at the base of his neck was still very sore. He'd gouged dangerously deep in hopes of freeing himself.
"I guess not. I just thought you were smart enough to know trying to escape would only bring you more trouble."
Grimmjow's eyes narrowed dangerously. Ichigo watched him back hard before his own eyes widened.
"Wait...why now? Why did you do this now?"
"Why the fuck do you think? I saw an opportunity."
"No, it was reckless, Hanataro told me what happened. If you were going to make a move, I would have expected it to be better planned...shit they've started sifting through your memories again haven't they?"
Grimmjow's eyes shifted away in an obvious tell, but he refused to say anything.
"How long?" Ichigo's eyes narrowed further. "Even back at the Fourth right? Even when I was here last time."
Grimmjow's refusal to make eye contact was enough of a confirmation.
"Damnit, Grimmjow why didn't you say anything to me?"
"Because I don't want shit from you! I don't want your pity or your help."
"But you must Grimmjow—if they're putting you through that torture again."
Silence, then, "It's not just those memories."
"What else? Your time with Aizen?"
A nod.
"Why? Do you know things that could help?"
A shrug. "Aizen had alot of projects."
"Grimmjow!" Ichigo's hands came up against the bars so fast they vibrated under his palms. The sharp yell got the espada's attention and he looked him straight on. "How can you withhold information that could help us defeat the Vandenreich?"
"You think I'd just give intel to the enemy?"
"GRIMMJOW! You have nothing to protect, no reason not to tell us about something that could help except for your damn pride. You arrogant bastard, you don't know what it's like out there. They just keep coming at us, they just don't stop and my friends...not everyone makes it back..." for a moment he seemed to falter, then his anger came back full force. "So how can you sit there and do nothing?!"
His shouts rang off the walls around them. Grimmjow rose, his chains clanking together, and came right up to the bars to stare Ichigo down through them.
"Because they imprisoned me, made me relive the worst weeks of my life, and pass around my memories like they have a right to see them. I ain't giving them shit."
Ichigo hesitated for a second—yes, the fact that the soul reapers were continuing to use such methods on Grimmjow disturbed him. But then the last two weeks of hardships on the battlefield eclipsed those thoughts and his eyes hardened again.
"It's your own damn fault if you won't just tell them. You're wasting time and that's costing lives."
"Huh, you've changed."
"And I didn't think you wanted my help."
Grimmjow scowled. "Of course I fucking don't." He turned his back on the teen but he wasn't finished. "I guess I just thought you'd be a little more worried about them seeing my memories."
"Why?"
"Because eventually Kurotsuchi's gonna get curious and want to see what happened in Purgatory for himself. In fact, he mentioned it the other day." Grimmjow turned back slowly, a grin so evil on his face Ichigo couldn't believe he'd ever felt an ounce of pity for this man. "I guess I just thought you might not want them seeing those hollows nearly fucking you in the shower that day."
Ichigo went rigid. Grimmjow stepped back toward the bars, his voice a dark hiss.
"Or how you cried like a child and couldn't even put your own fucking clothes on."
Ichigo swallowed, utter rage seething out as he stared into blue eyes between the bars.
"I shoulda waited to kill them until after they raped you."
"SHUT UP!"
With the scream came an uncontrolled burst of power. Grimmjow hit the floor and Ichigo stumbled back from the bars, barely catching his breath, angry and hurt like he'd never felt. He couldn't seem to calm himself down, so he kept his distance from the bars, watching Grimmjow rise shakily. He'd struck his face either on the bars or the floor, and ran his shackled hands under a bleeding nose.
"Little bit of vengeance, Kurosaki? For all those times I beat your ass? Well come on, that can't be it."
"Just stop." Ichigo's breath shook from rage and the resurfaced memory.
"What? You don't think you're the same animal we all are beneath the surface? You telling me you been out there all these weeks and you haven't grown to like it?"
"I said stop!" Another wave of power. Grimmjow went down again. Ichigo backed up further, his hands shaking, he didn't have the same control over his spiritual pressure as other people and he was pretty fresh from the battlefield, completely exhausted and having witnessed the deaths of two young sixth squad members—and now this. Grimmjow's words, his terrible eyes, that tormenting smile.
There was blood on his lips this time. Ichigo shut his eyes, half in shame, half so he wouldn't have to see that mocking grin.
"Go ahead, Kurosaki, go over the edge, I'm sure Unohana would love to hold your hand and take care of you. You ain't cut out for war, kid, you couldn't even protect yourself in Purgatory. Sooner or later the Vandenreich will get you. Can you imagine the things they'll do to a boy like you? They're pretty sick in the head, I just wish I could be there when they-"
"Enough, Grimmjow!" This time he managed to keep it back, only rocking the espada where he stood. "Enough." He repeated almost under his breath. Looking at the two of them, one would have thought it was Ichigo who'd been thrown around by the way he gripped the wall for support, sweat had broken out over his features.
"You're a horrible person, Grimmjow, if you mean all that."
"You know I fucking do."
The far door to the room opened. Nemu came in with fresh cathodes in hand, clearly ready to start another round. Ichigo watched the involuntary movement in Grimmjow—his muscles stiffening and he took a step backward as if it would make a difference. Ichigo swallowed hard and straightened before meeting those blue eyes one last time.
"Fine. Then I'll leave you to it."
With those hollow words, he left the espada to his fate
Hello again!
I want to thank you for your reviews! I am always anxious to hear your feedback, this time double so as our heroes were pretty mean to one another. I really look forward to hearing your take on things and hope that the true motivations and emotions of both Ichigo and Grimmjow were clear. It really is the hardest thing to try to convey their thoughts and feelings without explicitly narrating them! Any way, I already can't wait to post the next chapter because I hate to leave our boys here, like this. Thanks again for your continued support!
Riza