Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Bleach or Harry Potter. They belong to Tite Kubo and J.K Rowling, I'm just borrowing them for my amusement! I also don't own any of the song lyrics that are used, they belong to their respective owners!

Warnings: Slash/yaoi (male/male pairing), post DH (no epilogue), MAJOR AU, violence, language, dark themes, Stockholm Syndrome, mental/emotional manipulation, attempted rape, sexual situations, some OOC and other things that I'll list later.

Pairings: Ulquiorra/Harry, one-sided Nnoitora/Harry, might be more later

Chapter XI

Slept So Long

Walking, waiting
Alone without a care
Hoping and hating
Things that I can't bear
Did you think it's cool to walk right up,
To take my life and fuck it up?
Well did you, well did you?
I see hell in your eyes
Taken in by surprise
Touching you makes me feel alive
Touching you makes me die inside

"Please, not Harry! Anything but Harry!"

"Mum?" Harry frowned as he stood in the corner of a vaguely familiar nursery. It took him a moment to realize where he was as he watched his mother standing protectively in front of a crib, her green eyes glowing with a mixture of fear and strength. The cloaked figure of Voldemort lingered at the entrance way, his wand loosely gripped in his hand.

"Step aside girl. It is the boy I want," Voldemort ordered.

"No, I'll never let you take my son!" Lily exclaimed.

"Very well, have it your way. Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!" Harry shouted but his voice was drowned out by his mother's scream as she fell to the floor, her brilliant red hair fluttering around her in a radiant halo of fire. Her eyes, so much like Harry's, stared blankly at him as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Harry stood frozen in disbelief, his hands shaking as he held the dead gaze of the woman who had given everything for him. He couldn't move, couldn't even breath. All he could do was stare at the stolen life before him and wonder why it had to be this way.

"So you're the one who shall bring my downfall," Voldemort hissed in contempt forcing Harry to turn his attention to his adversary. What surprised him was that the dark wizard wasn't focused on the crib that held an innocent baby, but rather he was gazing at him with those dark, chilling eyes. Harry swallowed his body tensing as his magic simmered under his skin, sensing that danger was near.

Raising his wand, Voldemort chuckled, "I think not."

Instead of the green spell he was expecting, Harry blinked as flames shot out from the wand and eagerly spread to their surroundings, consuming everything in sight. Toys, furniture, the walls themselves weren't safe. Harry heard the frightened wailing of a baby, its cries soon joined by other voices of the dead as the fire crawled to the ceiling.

Within the fire, the faces of those he had failed stared back at him, their eyes full of accusations even as they begged and pleaded for salvation; they chanted his name as arms reached for him, their screaming turning into a nearly deafening roar.

Harry batted away the flames as he tried to move to his mother's body, he had to at least save her from burning. He couldn't save those he had failed, but he could at save his mother. Dodging the fire that seared and licked at his clothes and flesh, he cried, "Mum!"

It wasn't enough, in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't enough. The heat was intense and despite his best efforts to fight, the distance between them never lessened. Harry felt his jacket catch on fire and he stalled only briefly to discard it before he moved again.

He tasted salt on his lips and he felt the sting of the blaze as he crept closer toward his mother. Lily remained motionless, her eyes still boring into her son, begging for him to save her. But it wasn't enough, it never would be. He couldn't change his past and undo the damage that had been done. In a brief moment he realized he was a fool to try.

Lily Potter disappeared from his sight as the flames devoured her body and Harry stopped, observing with a mix of sadness and acceptance. Tears filled his eyes burning worse than the smoke of the fire. In the background the cries of the dead mixed with the gleeful cackles of Voldemort who remained untouched as his black cloak billowed around him.

He sneered vindictively, "No matter how hard you struggle little Potter, you're always one step behind. I may be gone, but the darkness you fight still remains and this time there will be no happy ending for you. You will fail Harry Potter and everyone you love with die!"

The inferno grew intense as the fire gathered together, encasing Voldemort in a whirlwind blaze that smashed through what was left of the roof and rose like a tower. It remained steady as it stood. Harry was unable to turn his gaze away, the flames almost soothing and playful in quality. He felt like a moth drawn to the light and warmth that promised him peace and salvation.

Harry hadn't even realized his slow, timid steps or the hands of fire that were fervently reaching out for him, coaxing him into their burning embrace. The voices of the dead whispered to him from the inferno, a dull steady hum of enchanted music that ensnared him, blinding Harry to the danger behind their sweet promises.

"You cannot have him."

The voices stopped and Harry blinked. He knew that voice. His thoughts were cut short as a green light of energy, more deadly than the Killing Curse, shot past Harry and into the heart of the fire. The dead wailed and screamed as they were burned away by this dark power that could level mountains and part seas. Harry swallowed thickly as he saw the outlines of those he had failed to save, saw them writher in agony as they screamed for deliverance.

"Do not look," the deep voice whispered and black, furred hands with long fingers covered his eyes, "They are not the people you once knew."

Harry should have struggled, should have broken free and tried to help those unfortunate souls, but he couldn't find the will to leave. All he could do was listen as their wailing died slowly finding comfort in the strange creature that was pressed behind him, its tail curling around his waist possessively.

Thick tears rolled down his cheeks wetting the soft, dark fur as they dripped off his chin. He swallowed again, choking on the emotions and cries that wanted to escape him. He felt so out of order, a jumbled mess of feelings and contradictions.

"You are safe," the voice rumbled, nearly purring in its chest, "I will protect you."

"Why?" he croaked.

Strange hands retreated as Harry was lifted from the ground, cradled like a delicate treasure. Watery green eyes gazed up at the creature that had been haunting his dreams. Its face leaned close causing Harry to flinch, but he stilled when a tongue licked away his tears. His face warmed as this gesture continued before lips brushed against his and hovered, whispering, "You are mine."

Harry shivered and jolted awake, blinking as he stared at the fuzzy image of a white ceiling overhead. A cold chill glided over his spine and seeped into his bones as he tried to recall his dream. But even as he attempted to grasp at the images, they were fleeting like smoke or mist between his fingers although he retained a few images; a burning nursery, his mother dying, Voldemort and the winged creature. Harry shivered again as he carefully sat up, feeling exhausted rather than refreshed from his sleep. He hunched over slightly nearly tucking his head between his legs as he breathed, trying to sort himself.

"Mum," he whispered her dead eyes flashing through his head. He felt the telltale burning of tears but Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. This place was killing him, slowly but surely this room and these walls were driving him insane. At the edges of his mind he could feel the cracks growing and deepening, his sanity was beginning to crumble and the darkness he kept locked away was seeping through.

"Why is this happening?" Harry thought shifting as he hugged his legs to his chest, "Why are they doing this to me?"

No answers were given but the sound of the door opening greeted his ears. Was it really time for Ulquiorra's visit already? Harry really need a clock, he was growing fed up with guessing the time. Uncurling himself, he glanced at his captor as his persona of strength and unwavering determination slid into place. An early lesson he learned in life was this, never allow your tormenters to see you vulnerable. Propping himself back on his hands as his body took on a relaxed posture, Harry observed as Ulquiorra walked toward him. It took great will power to not fidget under those intense dark eyes as they studied him carefully, as if sensing things weren't as they appeared.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, sparks of heat decorating his tone.

"It's time for your training," Ulquiorra replied gazing upon the wizard as if he should have known this. And he probably should have, but Harry couldn't care less. Shrugging lazily, he stood smoothing out his clothes which had been rumpled from his sleep. Silence was exchanged between them as they departed, making their way to their commandeered workout room.

Training was becoming a standard part of his schedule and while he didn't favor the reasoning behind it, ultimately it gave Harry something to do and allowed him to improve in a variety of ways. Therefore he never voiced any complaints toward his daily exercise although occasionally he would glare at Ulquiorra when he would unexpectedly raise the stakes. If it wasn't for his stoic expression, Harry would think that the pale Arrancar had a sadistic streak.

Routine began normally with Harry performing various stretches to relax his muscles then proceeding to run laps around the arena for a certain length of time. It helped build his stamina and allowed him to warm up. It was difficult at first but after the first week the teen wizard had begun to notice that his body was adjusting and gaining strength.

At this point, he could jog at a relatively brisk and steady pace for fifteen minutes. But of course Ulquiorra always made sure to keep Harry on his toes. If he ever showed any signs of slowing his speed, a cero would be shot at him and it served its purpose of motivating him. Thankfully the occurrence was becoming less and less.

Once running was done, Ulquiorra would allow him a five minute break to cool down. When time was up, they'd move onto an array of drills. From jumping to tumbles, it differed each day but usually in a set cycle. There was even an obstacle course set up toward the end of the week that mashed together everything Harry had practiced the days before and honed those skills. It also allowed Ulquiorra to observe where he needed improvement.

Of course it wasn't only physical training that the wizard endured. Ulquiorra and Harry would duel with use of their powers only; it was the exercise he looked forward to most. Not only was he able to use his rejection powers, but his magic as well. For a length of time, Harry could forget the reason why they were fighting and enjoy the moment. It was a nostalgic feeling, like he was back in fifth year teaching his peers how to protect themselves. Their spars weren't a matter of life or death.

But today Harry wasn't in the mood for games. If he had his way, he would have just stayed in his room and pretended that the world didn't exist. He didn't want to fight or train or spar, he just wanted to sleep and pray he didn't dream. But unfortunately nothing usually went his way. Rolling his shoulders, Harry listened with half an ear as Ulquiorra instructed him to cross to the other side of the arena. They were going to exchange blows with magic and reitsu.

Keeping a tight lid on the darker emotions his dream dredged up, Harry took stance and began to fire off spells. Ulquiorra either dodged or deflected them with small ceros. He never did much else, not even draw his sword. Whether it was because he felt it was against the rules they established or because it was unnecessary, Harry didn't know. But unlike most days, it pissed him off for some reason.

"Thinks he's so great huh?" he thought frowning, "Doesn't think I'm much of a threat. Bloody annoying git!"

He spells began to fly faster, the colorful bursts of power whizzing through the air toward their target. Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed slightly, his speed raising a hint. As a warrior, Ulquiorra was an expert when it came to reading people in battle. It served as an advantage to counteract an opponent. So it didn't slip his notice that something seemed off about his charge.

Normally Harry remained steady and level headed when it came to their matches, but there was something sloppy and unstable about his movements. It was apparent that he was firing whatever came to mind, rather than his usual calculating attacks. This could only mean his focus was compromised and had this been a real fight, he would be dead.

Deciding to regain his student's attention, Ulquiorra disappeared without a sound. Vibrant green eyes widened before Harry felt a leg make contact with his back. Keeping a firm grip on his wand, his body sailed through the air and impacted into the floor with a sickening crack. Pain raced like fire, sparking along his chest and left arm as heat rose steadily. Dislocated shoulder and cracked ribs were his diagnosis although he could only guess at this point. But considering how much Ulquiorra was still holding back, it was a miracle he wasn't dead.

Although perhaps his most fortunate trait was the enhanced senses he had begun to develop. Five seconds was the time it took for Harry to roll away from another assault and summon his shield to deflect the third attack. Panting, he gazed up from his crouched position observing as Ulquiorra stepped back hands still in his pockets. He studied Harry intently, picking away at him with his eyes and it made the wizard shift in discomfort.

Which turned out to be a bad idea as the previously forgotten pain made itself known in that moment. Hissing, he glanced at his useless left arm which hung limply at his side. Unless he popped the joint back into place, there wasn't much he could do for it and since he didn't know the proper way to relocate a shoulder, he wasn't willing to take the risk. But it just left him with a disadvantage that he'd rather not have.

Green and black light drew his attention away from his injuries. Looking up, Harry grunted as a large cero made contact with his shield, the force straining on the glowing white dome. Yet thankfully it held, a testament to Harry's growing power. Unfortunately the teen wizard couldn't breathe a sigh of relief for another cero replaced the first when it dissipated. Harry strained to hold steady, his festering anger spiking.

"I'm tired of this, all this crap. I know I came here to protect my friends and I don't regret it but bloody hell I'm tired of this!" he thought, bracing against another assault, "Who do these pricks think they are? It's bad enough when Voldemort was around, but now I have these wankers coming into my life and threatening my friends thinking they can get whatever they want?!"

Feeling the cero strain against his shield, he pressed back gritting his teeth, "And now I have to play the part of a fucking pet! Let them feed me, train me, brand me! Lock me in a cage until I go bloody mad! It's because of them that I keep having these nightmares, it's because of those damn walls and the damn silence and that damn smug grin on Aizen's stupid face that reminds me too much of Voldemort!"

His anger rose but his attention was divided. His concentration wavered and his shield began to crack. Ulquiorra noticed this with keen eyes and like a viper, lashed out at his weak prey. Firing off his last cero, he watched as it struck the barrier shattering it with little effort and crashed into Harry. Said teen grunted as his body was sent flying once more, his legs tumbling over head as he rolled across the floor like a rag doll.

Biting his lip, Harry tasted blood but ignored it in favor of silencing his screams. The pain had intensified, not an entirely surprising result considering how much battering his body was going through.

"Your performance was sloppy despite your improvement over the course of our sessions. Why?"

Harry snorted crossing his arms and glancing away, "Dunno what you're talking about mate."

"Don't think that you can take me for a fool," Ulquiorra warned, "I've studied your habits well enough to know when you are disturbed or troubled."

"Good for you, want a pat on the head?"

Reaching out, he grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt and yanked him close. Staring down at him, he warned, "Enough of your sass. Should you refuse to disclose what is distracting you from your duties, I will be forced to inform Aizen-sama and he will handle the matter."

Harry sneered, "Like he scares me. There's nothing he can do to me that would be any worse than Voldemort."

Ulquiorra sighed in annoyance, "So foolishly stubborn. We are quite aware of the fact that you're willing to endure any sort of pain to protect your secrets. But I wonder if the same could be said for your friends."

Bottle green eyes narrowed into slits, "Don't you dare bring them into this. If any of you touch them, I will make you pay!"

"There is little you can do," Ulquiorra said, "You are helpless unless we allow you power. Should Aizen-sama decide to slaughter your friends now, you would be unable to assist them. You are a weapon, a tool and cannot be used unless your master bids it."

"You bastards think you're so bloody amazing don't you? That you're so powerful that you can do whatever you want, yet you're nothing but cowards and bullies! You take advantage of those weaker than you, those who can't defend themselves and you exploit them! Then once they're outlived their use, you kill them without mercy! You have no compassion or respect for life!"

Ulquiorra huffed quietly, as if amused by his words, "I do not waste my time with those lower than me. Why should I feel anything for weak trash who cannot stand on their own feet?"

"Because they're alive, because they're human! Because they have hopes and dreams, families and friends, people who loved them and they loved in return! Just because they're weaker than you doesn't mean that their lives are meaningless!" Harry shouted, his throat tightening a bit while his eyes burned faintly.

"You've never had to watch the life fade from someone's eyes! You've never had to wonder if, because you weren't strong enough, you could have saved them! You've never had to endure the pain of watching people die; men, women, children! Innocent people who just wanted to live but were denied that! You're never had to live with the guilt of knowing that you couldn't spare them from that horrible end!"

Ulquiorra gazed steadily at Harry, the pieces falling into place in his mind. Quietly, he commented, "You had yet another nightmare."

Looking away, Harry growled, "It's none of your business."

"It is becoming a common occurrence which could be a cause for concern considering it is beginning to interfere with your obligations. Perhaps I should have Grantz examine you."

"The last person I'm going to talk to about my sleeping habits is that git," Harry snorted.

"You're being illogically stubborn."

"I don't care. Like I said, what I dream of is none of your business and I don't need you poking around in things you couldn't possibly understand anyway."

"You're right, I wouldn't understand. Unlike you, I do not allow my baser emotions to impair my ability to perform my duties efficiently. It's woefully obvious that you suffer from these night terrors due to your inane sense of guilt over the loss of lives from your war. A ridiculous notion considering you have no control over the matter to begin with. Whether you had been stronger or faster would not have made a difference, they would have likely still died."

"I still could have done something more! In the end, it was about Riddle getting to me! He wanted me dead! Those people were just cannon fodder to him and they suffered because of it, because they happened to be there!" Harry yelled his rage and anguish bursting forth. Yet he held his tears at bay, unwilling to shed them in the presence of his enemy. He was already revealing too much, giving Ulquiorra a glimpse of the wound still festering within his soul. He wouldn't give him his tears.

"It was Tom Riddle's choice to take the steps he took. You have no real influence on his actions; his own paranoia and madness held sway over him. Therefore it is absurd for you to feel responsible for the lives that have been lost," Ulquiorra explained focused intensely at the teen wizard, "You have great power Harry Potter, but even you cannot control every aspect of the world around us. You couldn't prevent their deaths any more than you can prevent your own in the future."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to comfort me," Harry muttered before speaking up, "And of course it's easy for you to say something like that. I doubt you've ever cared for another person before let alone lose them to death. It's one thing to preach about it, it's another to experience the pain and anguish."

"I have no need for such emotions nor ties to another living creature. They serve no purpose nor benefit me in my responsibilities toward Aizen-sama's cause. What you're explaining to me is just proof that such weaknesses are a burden that should be shed and disposed of."

Harry snorted glaring, "Of course you'd say that. You can't understand something that you've never had. And you won't even try to because you feel it's of no use to you. Which is why you'll always be empty, void of anything; a mindless drone that does what its suppose to and nothing more. A tool just like me and mark my words, when Aizen is done with both of us we're not going to live to see the next day."

Ulquiorra held a steady gaze with Harry for a moment before sighing, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "Due to your current condition, we cannot proceed with your training. But tomorrow, we will extend your time period to make up for the loss of today. For now, you should heal yourself."

Frowning, Harry realized his injuries had been forgotten in the heat of their argument. Feeling the strain and fire come back sevenfold, he winced glancing at his left arm which still hung limply at his side. Turning to Ulquiorra, he muttered, "I dislocated my shoulder."

Understanding passed through dark green eyes. Stepping closer, the pale Arrancar firmly grasped Harry's shoulder and arm. Bracing himself, the teen wizard hissed as his shoulder was popped back into place with a sickening grind. Feeling nauseous and faint at the sound, Harry latched onto Ulquiorra trying to steady himself as the sharp spike of pain slowly began to dull.

Ivory hands settled on his waist holding him still. Once Harry was certain he wasn't going to pass out, he summoned his orbs quietly ordering them to heal his injuries. Closing his eyes, he slumped against Ulquiorra who remained balanced on his feet unbothered by the extra weight. Not that Harry particularly cared at the moment.

Physical pain and emotional exhaustion accumulated over the last few hours numbed Harry to his reliance on Ulquiorra and their current lack of personal space. He merely listened to his own racing heart as it pounded in his ears and allowed his power do its work. Between the rhythm of his own pulse and the faint hum of the orbs, Harry settled into a lethargic state. Perhaps he was more tired than he had anticipated beforehand. His anger fueled adrenaline was draining out of him reminding his body of its lack of restful sleep.

"I'm such a wreck," he thought, his foggy mind recalling the vast range of emotions he was displaying lately. Harry was sure that if a doctor were allowed to analyze him, they'd deem his mentality unstable. At least he thought they would, he certainly felt it. Nothing made sense to him anymore and it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain his control. He could see it in his mind's eye, the cracks were showing again; slowly creeping along and spreading. And it frightened him to the bone.

"You need rest," Ulquiorra advised.

Harry snorted, slurring softly, "No shit Sherlock."

Ulquiorra sighed as the orbs finished their work and faded away leaving Harry in pristine condition, as if he hadn't just been thrown around the arena moments ago. Yet it seemed that despite his renewed health, he made no move to disengage himself from Ulquiorra's person. This confirmed the pale Arrancar's earlier observations of his lack of restful sleep.

"Did you drug me again?" Harry questioned, drowsy.

"No, I have no reason to," Ulquiorra replied, "And since you have yet to ingest anything, I wouldn't have had the opportunity anyway."

"Still pissed at you for that," he muttered, his eyes twitching as if they wished to open but didn't have the strength to, "'m not some animal or pet you can put a collar on."

"Are you going to move or will you force me to carry you?" the Cuarto Espada questioned, ignoring the remark.

"Nnn, tired," the wizard groaned, his eyes still shut.

"I should leave you here."

"Go ahead," Harry dared.

Sighing once more, Ulquiorra shifted hooking his arms around the younger male and lifted him effortlessly. Turning, he walked toward the doorway intending on taking his burden back to his room for recuperation. Both were unaware of the camera mounted in a shadowed corner of the room and the sly eyes that had been observing them.

"Interesting," Gin murmured, his mouth stretched in an amused smile as he tapped his chin with his finger, "Very interesting indeed. There certainly is more to Harry-chan just like Taicho said. Makes me wonder how those traits will influence future plans."

Late chapter, sorry for that. But at least it's out :D I actually don't know how to feel about this chapter. I think I put myself too much in Harry's current mind set because my brain is a big jumbled at the moment lol. I suppose I'm still trying hard to show the slowly blooming attraction without making it too fluffy and sugary. Cause they won't get to that for a long time. It's just a bit difficult because I'm a bit of a closet romantic and I'm trying not to let that influence my writing for this story.

And poor Harry, I'm putting him through the mental and emotional wringer right. But it servers its purpose so it has to be done. So, sorry Harry! But you're going to be wallowing in teenage angst/mood swings for a while!

So I hope you enjoyed the chapter and of course you know I appreciate reviews! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out on time. Now excuse me while I take some medicine and go lay down.

~Seth