Alright, I decided to focus as hard as I can on Grimmjow for now. The following chapter is going to focus on what Grimmjow's life would be like if he had stayed with the family. Please understand that I do not live with, in, or around a gang so the ideas here are going to be pure speculation form movies and stories I've seen or read. If someone has suggestions, I would love to read them so this character will grow better. Thanks.

Chapter Twenty - Seperation Anxiety

Grimmjow's POV

"You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind."

That's the only way I can explain how it felt when I stepped into the airport with Ulquiorra and the others. Ulquiorra, Starrk, Nel, Harribel, and Luppi were all giving me weird looks as if to ask why the hell I wasn't helping Ichigo with the three horses, checking out of the hotel, dealing with the rental car, and why Ichigo wasn't here yet. The stable hands were giving me the same looks but they were no where near as heated as the five riders. I really had no idea what to say to Nel considering both of us had promised to stay the fuck out of the family business. Ichigo will hate me for life because of this but I know he would prefer Annwyl be safe as well. I'll get Annwyl out of the trouble and get back to him as fast as I can.

The others were confused even further when I got a ticket that was heading to a different state then where they were going. New York. Yeah, my fucking uncle lives in New York and yet he has his fingers in the pie of horseback riding. Actually, my mother lives in New York more than my uncle. Kallam doesn't do much moving around like Aizen and Aizen lets others do his dirty work. I shrugged off their glances and went off to my terminal, silent as the grave I planned to put Aizen in when I got the chance. I wantedd this to be over with and I wanted it over with now.

The plane ride was unevenful save for some fucker who recognized me and tried to drug me while the attendants weren't looking. I was already wary from the idea of having to return home and when his arm snaked around my seat to put some kind of powder in my food or drink, I automatically caught his hand and squeezed. When I heard bones pop and a barely supressed cry of pain, I let go. I dumped my food and drink into the first trashcan that came my way and ignored the distain that came from the attendant. I didn't really care what they thought of me, I wasn't going to eat something thata may have been poisoned by some unknown substance. I stared out the window and took no offer of food or water.

When the plane landed, I waited for the fucker who tried to poison me to get out first. I recognized him. Hirako Shinji from an enemy group of rag tag kids who had become vigilantes around the neighborhoods. He was good for a kid but I was better having had to avoid getting killed when I ran away. I remembered how many times people tried to kill me and how many ways they tried within the first week of my running to freedom. In someways it was amazing how many enemies my family had and in someways I was suprised that my grandfather lived as long as he had. So many enemies and so little time to deal with them all. They also liked to multiply if you didn't watch them carefully. Grandfather hadn't really watched but Aizen seemed to have done far more in that regard because as I walk through the streets, I'm only given dark glares. No one attacks me even though I'm quite memorable.

I reach my mother's house a bit confused on why I'm not being attacked despite the fact I can recognize some of these people as the fuckers who had made leaving a bit more difficult. I leap up the wooden steps to my mother's old Victorian house that makes some apartment buildings looks small in comparison. The red brick and white wood look as well kept up as ever and I scowl at that fact. She still has enough time on her hands to get people in to keep the place up? Who knows what she's already been able to do to Annwyl in the two or three days it took for me to get here. Annwyl was taken sometime after she and Ichigo seperated and it took about a day for the tickets to come through. I press the doorbell and listen as it chimes the Westminister chime. Naturally, she has that chime on her doorbell, I think bitterly. She always enjoyed that chime.

The red door opens to reveal my mother. She's wearing a red, formfitting dress. The dress is made with silk that has disigns of cranes and flowers on it. There's enough fabric for the dress to wrap around her neck like a choker forming a tear drop cut that shows off a bit of her bust. There a slits on the sides of the dress that fall from her hip to her ankle. Her legs are covered by black, silk pants that are just loose enough that they don't look spray painted on. On her feet are black Chinese flat slippers. The dress has no sleeves and I nearly grimace when I find out that she's kept her skin as soft and as smooth as ever when she hugs me around my neck. When she lets me go, one of her manicured hands grips my chin firmly and tugs my head to the side then the other. I stare back at her out of the corners of my eyes and watch as her blue eyes look over me. She's done her make up in a style that I only recognize as smokey from previous girlfriends who had taken hours to get their hair right. She did it with light blue and a dark navy, blending both colors seamlessly. Her lips are painted silver and it makes her usual skin tone look even more like bronze.

"Welcome home," she murmurs as she releases my face and ushers me inside her spotless house. I glance around to see the dark mahogany stairs are polished and without scuffs. The floor looks just as superlative as the stairs and I glance to the right to the living room that has been filled with designer leather chairs and couches along with ornate rugs and pictures. I recognize the picture of lightning hitting the Grand Canyon as a once in a lifetime shot and because I found it for her when I had been younger. It's hanging over the fucking mantle. The hall leads on to the kitchen and the dining room is to my left in front of a huge window. Upstairs are the bedrooms and another floor up is her private office. Downstairs is the home theater that I remember because that was where I used to hang out when I was a kid.

"Where's Annwyl?" I growl wishing for nothing more but to be out of this house. I turn to glare at her and find that the dress doesn't cover her shoulderblades as she closes the door. When she turns back to face me, she smiles.

"I'm glad you're back. Annwyl's upstairs, asleep. Powerful sedative so don't bother trying to wake her up."

I narrow my eyes and clench my fists before dumping my suitcase on the floor. If I scratch her perfect floors the better. She glances at my stuff before looking at me again. She crosses her arms under her brests and gives me a chiding look. I want to tell her to go fuck herself but I'm more worried about what the fuck they gave Annwyl. People around here never seemed to understand that I detested using drugs on people. Drugs had to be detoxed from a person's body and also fucked with their head if you weren't careful. I really disliked using certain drugs as well becuase they could be used for shit I didn't want to get into.

"What'd you give her? Rohypnol?" I snarl, praying my mother says no. Roofies were a bitch. Date-rape drugs. I had always tried to avoid that shit even though no matter what I did, my friends - I use the term loosely - would do it to random girls every night they dragged me out clubbing. I was the designated driver on those nights. I was also the guy who called the cops when I saw the guys slip the roofies into drinks of random people.

I watch as my mother shrugs at my question and I automatically know she's telling the truth. She was like me in some ways. She used drugs on people but only if she felt she had to where as I avoided the shit as much as I could. If she had a hostge, she prefered scaring their body rather then deal with drugs and the side effects.

"The boys did the druging not me," she mutters bitterly. I know which boys she's talking about: Yammi, Szayel, and their group. Szayel likes to experiment with drugs to make them more potent. Yammi is a pervert who likes girls who are above the standards he should stick to. The two together were dangerous...More dangerous than when they were lone. Yammi liked to knock out the girls and simply carry them off while Szayel was a sneaky fucker. I'd learned at an early age to keep my eyes on those two if I wanted to make it out of a bar in one piece or as close to whole as could be done. If those two were the ones who did the druging, Annwyl would be asleep for days.

"So," I mutter. "What do you want me to do other than act like I want to be here?"

"Aizen has a few people after him and they're damn good fighters. We need our best on them and sadly, you were our best guy."

The pain in her voice is tangible and it makes me uncomfortable hearing it. She was never this emotional around me when I was growing up or even when I saw her again at Seireitei Stables. I try to shrug it off as her superior acting skills that she had honed over the years but something in my heart is being tugged into believing she's really unhappy about this. I sigh and pick up my bag.

"Am I using my old room or the guest room?" I murmur softly. I look at her and see her eyes are tearing up. She blinks repeatedly to stop the tears from smearing her make up and whicks away a stray drop.

"Whichever you want Grimmjow honey." I nod and stomp upstairs to the guest room. There's no way in hell I'll stay in my old room. It'll feel too much like I've come home to stay and I'm not staying. I won't even call this place home the way I used to. My home is my little cabin in the woods with Ichigo.

At the thought of Ichigo, my heart clenches. I dump my bag on the floor and collapse onto the plush navy carpet that lies pinned to the floor by the bed. I lean my back against the bed, ignoring the uncomfortable feel of the metal and wood base against my spine. I drag my knees up to my chest and bury my face in them, wraping my arms around my legs to stay in a small ball. Ichigo's face flashes in front of my eyes and I want nothing more than to feel him in my arms as I hold him close. I can almost smell the scent of his hair and skin. I watch as the images flit past my vision and feel myself begin to shake with want, with terror. Terror for his safety. Terror for the idea that his fits have come back and that he might not b able to handle them.

I shake my head to clear these thoughts but they come back with vengence. Visions of Ichigo cowering on the floor from the most recent attack and of the first night I calmed his unconsious self flood to my eyes and I shake harder. A small knock at my door snaps me back to reality. My head shoots up to find my mother standing in the doorway. She looks grim.

"You may want to change into something worthy of a resturant. We have an appointment," she says tersly. I nod, shaking still from my phantasms. Sh leaves and I go to the bathroom to wash the cold sweat off my skin. I manage to get my hair dry by the time I force myself into one of the suits she left for me on the bed's black covers. The suit is black or a very dark navy with silver buttons. The red tie goes well and contrasts the black and the white shirt even more. The shoes are perfectly polished as to be expected. I don't think of how the suit fits perfectly knowing full well what a good eye my mother has for shit like this. I tromp downstairs and glare as she walks out in the same dress minus the pants. I can see the hints of black garters on her thighs and the strapy stiletoes make my feet hurt just looking at them. Her hair is in a fancy up-do that looks like it would be easy to do but I bet it would be extreamly hard if she didn't know what she was doing.

"You're driving," I growl and she nods.

She drives a fucking sports car now. It's imported from Italy and is a deep red color. Ferari in red. Hot damn. I bet she got it becasue she would look good in it and can't help but notice that it fits her perfectly. It's beautiful and cunninly aluring just like her.

"What was Aizen planing to do with Ichigo if I didn't come?"

"Aizen looked into him a bit when we left. No one could beat that record Grimmjow. Your kid did. Aizen leapt to a logical conclusion - the boy was trained by Shiro Zangetsu himself - and then decided it was best to use him to get to you since the kid is your stable hand. Your only stable hand."

"Sorry but you have to earn hands around Las Noches. That's why Luppi doesn't have one. He's an imbecile who can't even tack on his own!"

"Sadly, Aizen took that boy in so I can't do anything there."

My fist clenches at her statement. The little feminine fuck was part of the family? Oh now I really hate him!

"Don't punch my car," Kallam states coolly. I glare at her out of the corner of my eyes and she jerks around a corner causing me to get my head nearly whacked into the window. "I don't blame you for not liking the kid. I didn't."

"You don't like anyone."

"Not true...I like you."

I fall silent and watch the buildings race past us as she weaves in and out of traffic.

The resturant is a nice Italian place I remember from my childhood. It's a nice place for people like our family because it's run by members that make sure we have discounts. Shit. I'm already saying 'we' as if I haven't left. Kallam drags/leads me to the back of the resturant where the private tables are. She sits at the head of the table and places me at her right. That was risky considering what I am. I'm a traitor, a runaway. I left the place that was my first home and never came back. I attacked its opperations. I was not trust worthy and yet she was putting me in the position of her right hand man. Fuck.

Kallam and I waited as a group of people joined us. I recognize a few of them but there's one man I don't know. I try to ignore his cold grey eyes that seem to be unable to reflect light. He's in his early fifties, wears a white shirt, grey suit jacket, black suit pants, black dress shoes, and a pocket watch on a gold chain in his pinstriped vest. Dangerous to wear that around here. I've seen those things get stolen all the time and usually in a violent beating. Kallam leans toward me casually and I lean to meet her halfway.

"The guy who looks like he's ex-military is Damian Grey," she whispered. I glance back at the man I don't know and feel her nod. Damian Grey huh? What brought him into this world? "He's got some debts to the loan sharks - Aizen not me or Fira - and he's also gotten his hands on a job as an informant. He's paying off the last of his debt as we speak."

"He got a family?" I ask when I catch a glance of something gold aorund his left ring finger as he waves a waiter off. I hear her breath catch as she looks and sees what I saw. I was always faster at this shit than the others. It was a 'gift' I didn't fucking want. Ichigo's the only who can throw me.

"I guess. I haven't asked."

"Then I will."

"I would say welcome back but you'd punch me."

"No shit Sherlock." I ordered a red wine when the waiter came over to me already knowing I was in the mood for spaggetti with red sauce. I look back at the man who is new and listen carefully as Kallam speaks to everyone at the table about Aizen's problem. Aizen seems to have angered a group of people who have far more put into horses than Aizen does. Aizen, as the idiot he is, broke few of their rules unknowingly and now they were out for blood. Damian Grey spoke of what he'd learned about these peoples' conections. I learn they go pretty high and are pretty damn strong. I'd have to find my old contacts and see if they could or even would help me.

"Kallam," Damian says when he's done with his explination. "I don't believe I've met the young man on your right."

I casually twirl my fork in my noodles, using a spoon to control the soft, doughy cylinders. I pop the little knot into my mouth, telling the guy I don't give much of a damn about what he thinks of me. I watch as his eyes narrow at my casualness. As soon as I swallow, I send him a small, yet extreamely rude smirk that says, I'm better than you. His eyes become slits and Kallam giggles softly.

"This, Damian, is my son Grimmjow Jaggerjaques," she hums, her right hand showing me off as if I'm some rare thing of art. Her chin as perched on her other hand and she was leaning away from me looking like an aristocrat showing off something they had managed to get before someone else. Damian glared at her before he found his words again.

"Your son?" he asked increduously. "You mean the little traitor who ran off?" He shot me a look that I guess was supposed to scare me. Truthfully, the look that was supposed to say I know you don't belong here you fucking coward only said I know your history and I shrugged it off easily. Damian looked flumoxed at the fact that I was calm despite his words. The others around the table who knew me had refrained from talking because they knew my temper and knew Kallam's. Damian did not have that luxury though and it was obvious with the superiority that oozed off his lips whenever he spoke to Kallam and when he snarled at me with his eyes.

What he didn't notice though, was that I never forget a voice. I hear a voice once and I will recognize it even if it's distorted by a phonecall or some other device. He had missed my subtle glance of intrigue when he'd first begun speaking. I knew his voice. I had heard it over the phone at one point when I'd first met Annwyl. Faces take a bit longer with me but when a voice clicks, my memory pulls up pictures that match the voice. He had aged and I had only seen him in a picture at Annwyl's. I could already hear the one side of the argument I had been present for replaying in my head.

"In case you fucking forgot, I left because I couldn't stand you two anymore! I want to ride and you're not gonna stop me!...Brainy can do whatever the fuck he wants D-...No I will not watch my fucking mouth you lousy son of a bitch! I can speak however I fucking wish! You can't smack me any more due to my being a few thousand miles away from home!...I didn't drag my brother out here against his will you prick!...I'm hanging up Bastard. Get over yourself...How about this idea! Go fuck yourself!"

Before I had handed over the phone I had answered it, gasping for air due to having been swimming in the backyard pool at Annwyl and Brainy's place where they were renting a room from their aunt and uncle. I heard the moment replay and barely held back my glare.

"Hello?" I asked breathing hard from having held my breath underwater and still getting my ass handed to me by a chick. I pressed a towel from the house to my face and continued panting. When there was no answer, I said again: "Hello?"

"Who is this?" asked a very annoyed male voice.

"I should be asking the same thing to you."

"Is Annwyl Grey there? I'm her-"

"Hang on," I muttered. "Annwyl! Phone!" I yelled out the window. I hear a curse and splashing as Annwyl comes to get a towel and the phone from me. "So what's your reason for calling?"

"I'm not speaking to some random boy who is with my daughter without my permission. Give to phone to Annwyl." It so happened Annwyl was there at that moment and I handed it over to her giving her look. Then came the argument.

"Mr. Grey," I say casually, sitting up a bit straighter. "Your daughter's become one hell of a rider since you last saw her. Have you followed her career? I have been being a rider as well. Gotta know the competition you know? Anyway...Has she called you recently?"

"W-what do mean you're following my daughter's career?" he asked. The word 'career' sounded forced as if he was having a hard time believing you could make money riding horses and not just selling or breading them. I give him a pitying look as I let my finger spin on the tip of my wine glass.

"Just wondering if you've been following your daughter's success. If you had then you may not be here." I glance at him and he gives me a cold glare as if to ask: What the fuck are you talking about you little fuck?

"My daughter chose a job that I did not aprove of Mr. Jaggerjaques. You'll excuse me if I don't really care about how she's doing," he states coldly. I shoot him a glare and the others around the table flinch. He does too. I don't blame him. The glare I'm giving him is cool like the ones my mother gives people who have crossed her but mine always come when someone says something stupid about one of my friends or of my family. I used to defend my family when I lived among them and knew nothing. Right now, I'm giving him the glare and it's saying one thing and one thing only: You mother fucker. I think I'll kill you now. Nice and slow too.

"Your daughter..." I murmur, retuning my gaze to my glass asa I lift it and swirl the contents. I glance back at him and take a sip of the Shiraz. "Your daughter is a good friend of mine. I remember picking up the phone when you called her once...Let me see. What'd you call me again? Oh right - " I smirk at him. " - 'some random boy who is with my daughter without my permission' I believe is what you said." I nearly laugh as he pales. "Hi, nice to finally meet the son of a bitch who spawaned one of the best riders I've had the pleasure to meet. Tell me, did you hear that she was recently in a bad horse accident? Didn't think so considering you don't follow her career."

I lean back in my chair and watch as Damian begins to shiver, his short cut, silver hair quivering like a rabbit's nose. I send him a light smile that is the exact opposite of what I should be doing which is glaring at him like I plan to kill him for being unattentive. This play I've pulled straight from Kallam and Aizen's playbook. It works and Damian is shivering like he has no idea what to expect from me which he doesn't. I look at Kallam and she smiles at me for the accidental opening.

"Good to know you two know each other somewhat well," she smirks. "Damian? Grimmjow is the one person I trust to be able to deal with the people we have been speaking of. He's one of the best and he was praticing fitting in in places away from home when he left. Weren't you Honey?"

"Quite," I state, sipping more wine. The table looks uncomfortable but the people who all know me are relaxing knowing my anger isn't focused on them. Nor is Kallam's. Kallam may be smiling but in reality, she's pissed that she's been dealing with someone who thought low of me even if he was unaware of it. It's fun watching Damian cringe from the two of us despite his being on the other end and other side of the table. It's far too much effort to stand up and walk over to him even if he's petrified. I send him another smile before standing abruptly.

"Honey?" Kallam asks.

"Restroom. When I get back, I'd love to have the information you've gathered on these people Mr. Grey." One more sickly sweet smile and I leave.

That night, I'm clawing through the papers and files Damian managed to get on the family Aizen annoyed. The Myst Family. These people are terrifyingly strong in more than one way. They have contacts up the wazoo in politics and in hard to reach places. Members of the family are in the Marines, the Army, JAG, NCIS, and other places within the political alphabet soup of organizations. Aizen had tried to get some of these people to be in his geek squad and had failed because they were wanted more by national CSI units, FBI, CIA, and so on. I go over every scrap of paper Damian handed over shaking violently as he should have been and find that there is no way to not get a target painted on my back if I go up against this family.

"Fun people huh?" Kallam asks from the door. I glance at her and groan, letting my head fall to the desk.

"How the hell am I supposed to stop an assination attempt from these people?"

"You're not stopping an assination," she said, striding up to stand behind me. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "You're trying to smooth things over. Here are the rules they live by." She slid a paper out from the pile and then grabbed a pen. She circled two rules and slammed the pen down. "Those are the rules Aizen broke. You have to try to fix what he fucked up." She slid another paper out of the pile and tapped it with a manicured nail. "This lists the consequences of Aizen's actions based on which rule he broke. Have fun." She kissed my forehead like I was a little kid and walked out.

"Is Annwyl awake?"

"She should be tomorrow. She's been staying in your old room by the way." She closed the door behind her after she finnished speaking and I dove back into my hell. Aizen had gotten two horses injured and the Mysts were planning on filing a lawsuit. I went over the injuries and then checked my old account that I had not touched since I left. I stared at the ammount and noticed Kallam had continued giving me an allowance. I picked up the phone and called the Mysts.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"The name's Grimmjow Jaggerjaques. My uncle, Aizen, seems to have caused the injury of two of your horses."

"Yeah. What do you plan to do about it?"

"I'm the one who has to deal with it. I can pay restitution unless you want something else. I'll see what I can do."

Silence for a moment and then, "You do notice that the vet bills for the sugery alone are pretty high don't you?"

"Near $1,000. I own a horse myself. I know what it costs to fix broken bones and cuts."

"Good to know someone around there understands. Can you pay restitutions?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Got paper?"

"Yes," I said turning one of the pages over and preparing to write. He gave me what I needed and I transfered the ammount he asked for. He asasured me he'd call and say the family didn't have to worry since someone did their job right. I hung up and looked at the clock. Ichigo would hopefully still be asleep at this hour and was hopefully not dreaming of whatever terrors he had. I stood and changed into a pair of sweat pants. I was about to fall onto the bed that looked very fucking welcoming at that exact moment when the sound of a car screeching around a corner caught my ears. I was on the floor before the shots even began. When they stopped, I raced to find Kallam. She was in her study, on the floor, wide eyed.

"That doesn't happen normally," she assured me, her voice shaking. I nodded knowing it was probably true but I called the police anyway. I found out tht the whole side of the block had been hit and a kid had gotten killed by one of the bullets. Next day, I found D-Roy, Ilfort, Shawlong, and the rest of my old friends. I sent them off to find out who shot up Kallam's block. When I learned who did it, I'd take care of it myself and then I'd go home to Ichigo.

Hang on Ichi, I thought.

I'll come as fast as I can and in one piece.

How do you like it? Did I do well with the descriptions? I hope you enjoyed!

ShindouRen - I'm glad you got to read the previous chapters and catch up. I'm glad you're enjoying it by the way. It's nice to have people enjoy your work and to read all the positive reviews. Thanks for following! 8D