A/N: So, I'm proud (and a little depressed) to say that there is only about five chapters left in Bloodstained Memories, if not less. After all the difficulties I've encountered along the way, I'm glad I'm in the clear. I want to say thank you to all of you wonderful readers who have stuck with my this far. It means so much to me, and I appreciate each and every one of you.

Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab is the inspiration for this chapter.

o-o-o-o

Chapter Thirteen

Grimmjow came to as a wave of something lukewarm and wet splashed down onto his face.

In a second, he was up, his eyes blinking alertly as he took in his surroundings. Or lack of, in his case.

Shadows surrounded him, and he could barely make out the outline of someone standing in front of him as light filitered through the opening of what he though to be a thick canvas tent.

"Glad to see you're finally up, Sleeping Beauty." a rumbling voice snickered before the tent flap moved, revealing light and making Grimmjow squint his eyes, the sudden brightness almost blinding him. "Now we can finally get on with our little reunion."

Grimmjow began to open his mouth to retort, a number of curses about to leave his mouth, when his jaw was grabbed by iron hands and pried apart, weight suddenly pressing down on his chest, legs, and arms.

A rubbery material was forced into his mouth, and he suddenly had the mental image of a tube, connected to a bucket of water. Dread and panic surfacing in his chest, he struggled to spit the damned thing out of his mouth, but his nose was suddenly denied access to oxygen, leaving his mouth the only means in order for him to breathe.

"It seems you've remembered what this particular exercise does." the rumbling voice from before spoke again. "Don't worry. If you're lucky, we may let you breathe before the water runs out."

Before Grimmjow could gasp for another breath, water began to pour through the tube and into the back of his throat, making him choke as he automatically tried to breathe through it. However, the task was nearly impossible, and he felt himself growing lightheaded as he continued to choke.

Just before he was sure he was going to pass out, the water ceased, leaving him coughing and retching up the water.

"Now that you understand what happens if you lie, let's get started."

o-o-o-o

Grimmjow had never been more grateful to pass out than he had during the watery torture that he endured. He felt his lungs finally give in to the onslaught of water that surged into them, and he felt himself growing dimmer and farther away from the reality of his situation before finally leaving consciousness altogether.

When he came to, he tried to move, only to grit his teeth as fire burned through his chest.

Glancing down, he was disgusted to see that he was chained down to a sterile surface of some kind, his arms littered with IV's and various other hospital equipment. Gritting his teeth, he fought against the restraints, pulling away from the needles that were tapped into his veins. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to continue, as a couple of them were lodged quite deeply in his skin, and he knew that they were going to get messy if he tore them out. However, his fear and hatred of IV's and needles took over, and with a savage rip, dislodged them, sending droplets of crimson spattering everywhere.

They had to have pumped his lungs somehow, kept him from drowning for some reason. No doubt to keep him alive for later torture of some kind.

His head was spinning, and he felt like he'd attempted to swallow something particularly nasty at some point, as the taste of bile lingered on his tongue.

Dizzily, he leaned his head back, wincing at the feel of the pressure on a sensitive spot. He was now completely spent after his attempts to rid himself of the IV's, and he felt his eyes fluttering closed again against his will.

He could have sworn he heard a concerned yell before he passed out again though.

o-o-o-o

"Someone hold him down!"

"Shit!"

Ichigo growled, hackles up, at the men trying to tie him down. Starrk was in the background, watching with narrowed eyes at the dogs behavior, Los Lobos circling the area to make sure that they weren't about to get attacked.

Shirosaki dove, aiming for the Wolfdog's massive ribcage, and missed by mere inches as Ichigo darted out of reach again.

This particular process had been going on for the last couple hours, and Starrk had finally had enough.

"Shirosaki. Stop. All of you back away now." he stated frigidly, moving forward. Los Lobos appeared at his side like a shadow, and his eyes didn't leave the other canine's as he stepped forward.

"Go." Starrk murmured to his partner with a soft pat on the shoulder.

Los Lobos stalked forward, his hackles beginning to raise at the agressive male that was currently displaying traits of Alpha behavior. Growling, his jaw opened slightly, revealing sharp fangs that he bared back at the elder Alpha.

"You couldn't have done this an hour ago?" Shirosaki panted with a scowl. "It coulda made my life a whole lot easier, ya know!"

Starrk didn't reply, instead watching the confrontation between the two dogs.

Ichigo was growling low in his throat, his front legs spread and hackles raised. His lanky frame was almost taller than Los Lobos', but the other dog was not intimidated in the least. He stayed put, his ears pinned back, and he raised his upper lip as he growled back. It wasn't a higher pitched one, like Ichigo's, but a more sinister, low, and dark growl that resonated from his chest.

Los Lobos was built for speed, his legs muscled and his chest narrow. Ichigo was built for speed alone, with his lithe frame and long legs. Comparing the two, bets would probably go to Ichigo, but Los Lobos was no stranger to asserting himself as Alpha. A third of the scars that littered his frame were from past encounters while serving under Aizen.

But Ichigo couldn't know that. He wasn't even born when his elder was a killing machine. He didn't know that the canine before him was quite capable of tearing out his throat without a bit of remorse.

Zangetsu was sitting next to Shirosaki restlessly, his frame tensed as he watched the battle of wills begin. He was definitely not being his usual composed self, showing concern for his littermate as he glared at Los Lobos.

Suddenly, all of the growling stopped. Almost immediately, Starrk was ushering the others away from the two canines, just as said canines launched themselves through the air at each other.

Snarls and barks were the only sounds heard, other than Shirosaki swearing like a trucker as he had to jump back in order to avoid getting his leg taken off by Ichigo. Los Lobos was fast, darting here and there with only a few snarls coming from his throat, his eyes blazing as he easily held off the younger.

Ichigo was wild, his long legs digging in as he reared, trying to get height on his senior, but Los Lobos reared back himself, teeth bared, and lunged for the Wolfdog's exposed throat with a growl. They both fell, Los Lobos standing over the other, teeth closed around Ichigo's neck, legs on either side of the younger. Ichigo refused to admit defeat, struggling against the powerful hold on his neck, before finally baring his stomach with a pained whine. If it hadn't been clear who the Alpha was before, it was definitely clear now. Los Lobos was Pack Leader next to Starrk, and Ichigo misbehaving was not about to change any of that.

Starrk snapped his fingers, and Los Lobos retracted his teeth from Ichigo's neck, no blood on them, before backing away to Starrk's side. Planting himself firmly next to the man, Starrk rubbed behind his partner's ears affectionately for a moment before clicking to Ichigo.

Said canine looked a little hesitant about this new arrangement, but came, head ducked low as he did so.

However, Starrk bent down to meet the Wolfdog's gaze, resting a hand gently on the crown of his head for a moment before standing again.

"Well, what now?" Shirosaki snarked, raising a brow and crossing his arms.

"Now we find a way to get Grimmjow back." the slate eyed male replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

o-o-o-o

He was feeling like he'd gone to Hell and back. Although, thinking on where he was, he wouldn't be too surprised. Shifting, he hissed as his ribs and lungs cried out in protest. Pausing, he allowed himself to feel the pain. After all, if he was in pain, it meant that he was still alive. And that was pretty good, in his opinion. After all, he'd been through worse. He could pull through this, no problem.

Hopefully.

His hair, at this point, was itching to the point that he was almost willing to cut all of it off and leave it to its own devices. But, considering his situation, he would be fine if he could just get his hands free.

Growling, he ignored the pain that it brought and wrenched his wrists as hard as he could against whatever the hell was holding them in place. Baring his teeth in a savage snarl, he pulled harder, his shoulders beginning to ache from the pressure that they were being put under. However, he had to pause for breath, his shoulders aching, to ignore the black dots flashing at the edge of his vision.

Weakly, he raised his head, looking around the dimly lit tent that he was trapped in.

From what he could see, various knives and other tools used in torture. Shuddering lightly, he pushed aside memories that came through his barriers, slamming themselves into his mind like vicious blows. He remembered exactly what each and every one of the tools surrounding him were used for, had been used for. He'd been on the recieving end of several of them, most of them recently.

"Well, this is a surprise. How pleasant to see you, Grimmjow." a soft voice greeted.

"Tsukishima." he growled back.

"Now, that isn't very nice. Is this how you treat everyone these days?" the brown eyed male asked in his soft voice. When Grimmjow had been an Espada, even then, Tsukishima's voice grated on his nerves. The man never raised his voice, never grew violent.

At least, not until the Torture Master was in the same room as his weaponry. Then he was a coldblooded machine, sadistic and ruthless. Grimmjow had lost count of how many people had gone insane in the presence of the man. Tsukishima knew very well how to keep someone alive while he tortured them. Anyone unfortunate enough to cross him was considered a dead man, and soon enough, they always would be.

"Come a little closer and I'll show you how I greet people these days." he rasped, eyes narrowing.

"Always so unfriendly, Grimmjow." the male chided, coming closer. Grimmjow automatically growled warningly, every inch of his body stiff with tension. "Fortunately for you, however, it's not me you need to be concerned about. Not for now, anyway. Rest assured, you'll be seeing me again soon enough."

Somehow, that didn't assure him in the least.

o-o-o-o

Starrk lay low, his breathing soft as he looked down at the camp spread out before him. Los Lobos was nearby, head laying on his paws as he dozed.

There had been no signs of movement for the last couple of hours, and with a heavy sigh, he rested his head on the cool earth. What could they have possibly gained by taking Grimmjow? He had been the Sexta, so that ruled out ranking. Logically, he would guess that he had been ruled out as one of the largest threats, considering that he'd practically been feral as an Espada.

"Shit, Grimmjow. What've you gotten yourself into now?" he sighed.