One year ago.
Grimmjow savoured the onslaught of lukewarm water. He ignored the fact the shower hadn't been cleaned in months. There was something gritty under his feet, but the rest of him was cleaner than it had been in ages. Too many nights on the street. His clothes were equally a mess and when he towelled off and returned to the bedroom, he decided not to try to pick them out from underneath the woman sprawled over them and rumpled sheets. Instead he quietly made his way to the closet and pulled out clothes that must have belonged to her boyfriend or husband. They smelled clean enough so he took some and then made his way through the bedside drawers.
He recovered the drugs he'd sold her the night before. It had been a pretty good pay day the first time around, now he could double it. He took the cash he found wadded up in the pages of a book. Then he dared to reach back for his own pants and collect his meager belongings, including his freshly made i.d. that would allow him to start a life out here in the "real world."
He tried not to look at the spotted flesh of the woman's back. She must have been more than twice his age and years of drug use had aged her terribly. Ugh. He swallowed back the memories of the night and retreated from the bedroom of the grungy apartment.
"Fuck," he swore, and poured himself a drink left over from the bottle they'd consumed last night. He did not want to spend one more night like this. But he also didn't want to spend another night propped against a dumpster in some alley.
He was a fucking supersoldier. This was undignified.
Just as he was finishing his drink, the door opened. A man in his mid to late forties stopped short, seeing Grimmjow at his counter, drinking his boos, and wearing his clothes.
"Yo," Grimmjow greeted with a smile. He couldn't help himself, he was an asshole.
The man couldn't manage to form any coherent words as he lunged at Grimmjow. It was joke. Grimmjow caught the man's wrist, twisted his arm back and brought him to his knees in seconds. The man froze up in pain and was immobilized with the promise of a broken arm if he struggled.
"You bastard," he hissed out.
Grimmjow didn't bother insulting the man further with words or physical harm. He released him but gave him a shove so he fell forward while Grimmjow left through the front door.
The man didn't chase after him. He hit the street just as an orange blaze began to paint the backdrop of the city. Grimmjow counted his cash as he walked. Paying for his I.D. had wiped him out entirely, but now he finally had enough.
He made his way through streets, checking for signs in windows until he came to one, right on the corner of two streets. In the low morning light he could see a bar on the first floor. And right above it a small sign in the window read: for rent.
He grinned. It was going to be his—for the first time since his escape from Aizen and Interpol, he was going to have a place that was his own. He was going to be free.
But as he hiked his stolen clothes closer he remembered the night with the junkie woman and immediately lost his grin. The price of freedom had been high.
But he had to do what he had to do, and there was no taking that back now. There was only moving forward.
Present.
Grimmjow stood before the bathroom mirror of his bedroom. The door was locked tight. The one to his bedroom was also locked, but he was sure that wasn't going to stop the man banging on it from the other side. Ichigo was going to get in. And this time, Grimmjow was alone.
Stark and the others had done what they'd promised. For over a week they'd kept Grimmjow close. Though they wanted him to slip up by going after Grimmjow, he didn't get a chance with them always in the way.
Ichigo was becoming more and more volatile—dangerous in and outside of the training room. Aizen's frustration with him was clear. He could not control him the way he did his own children.
That was probably why Aizen had let this happen. He'd called the others to a meeting. He'd left Grimmjow unprotected. It was his final test for Ichigo, to see if he'd disobey a direct order.
He most certainly would. The question was, would that betrayal mean Aizen would stop dosing the teen?
Grimmjow heard the door give in in the room beyond. He jolted when the bathroom door shook under the impact of a fist.
Grimmjow picked up the bottle on the counter and shook out a few pills. His arm was finally out of the sling, though still in a cast. Now he used that hand to lift the pills to his mouth—pills Szayel had warned him not to abuse.
Fuck it.
He rinsed them down with vodka. He sputtered but held it in, letting the mixture work its way down, until burning turned to a faint heat that radiated throughout his body, took the edge of fear from him. He swayed and knocked the pills over, scattering the rest over the counter. It was so much like that night he'd found his mother.
But he was not trying to kill himself. He was going to save himself, one more time, and he was going to save the kid while he was at it.
The door cracked. Ichigo must have gotten hold of something because now the strikes to the door did more damage. Wood splintered. The hinges groaned. He had seconds left.
He raised his eyes once more, to stare down that pale, exhausted visage in the cold silver glass of the mirror.
How many rotten, degrading things had he done since escaping Aizen? It had been about survival. He'd done those things to save himself. But now, there was someone else he wanted to save, more than anything. Someone who had made even the worst part of himself turn back and dive into those icy waters.
He turned away from his reflection and opened the door.
"Ichigo." Grimmjow stood in the threshold. Ichigo had come to an abrupt stop, not having expected Grimmjow to open the door of his own free will. He had a piece of wood from the other broken door in his hand but now he dropped it.
"What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously. His eyes wandered over Grimmjow, then darted to the sink at his back. "What the Hell did you just do?" Ichigo grabbed him by the shoulders, looking into his eyes and seeing how dilated his pupils were. "You tried to off yourself?"
Grimmjow swallowed hard, the world slowing. "No."
"You just took a fistful, didn't you?"
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask if you were fine! I want to know how much you took!"
But Grimmjow's hands came up and caught Ichigo's face. He brought their lips together.
Ichigo pulled away at once, eyes narrowing and checking Grimmjow up and down for signs of a weapon. "What is this?"
"This is what you wanted right? Well I'm giving it to you, Kurosaki."
Ichigo still eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"
"Because you're right. I do have feelings for you. This is what I've always wanted. I just didn't know it."
Suspicion lingered in brown eyes, but this was what he wanted, so after only a moment, he took a step closer, pressing Grimmjow back against the sink. His hands slipped up to hold Grimmjow's face, watching him close. He leaned in over his shoulder and whispered in his ear.
"Just don't go changing your mind."
Grimmjow stared dead ahead at the tiled wall as he drew Ichigo flush against him. He felt that same slender body of the boy who'd somehow decided he was worth saving—even loving. He let out a breath and nodded into his shoulder. "I won't, Ichigo. I promise."
A gentle waft of smoke filtered past the shattered door frame, from the broken bathroom door into the rest of the room. Sheets were heaped in a tangled mess on the bed. A bottle of alcohol had rolled loose from the stash underneath. Along the carpet were spots of blood. The main door hung half open, the door knob broken.
Aizen stepped through the mess, following the scent of cigarette smoke to its source. The shower curtain had apparently been left open, so the white tile walls and floor were moist and dripping. And on the floor he sat, back to the wall, propped against the built-in tub, cigarette burning low between two fingers. The pills were scattered on the floor, the sink. The drink was clutched in his other hand.
"Grimmjow, you shouldn't be smoking with your heart condition."
The cigarette pinched tight between pale fingers. He was shirtless, a few bruises marked his body. The eyes that dragged themselves up to Aizen were filled with a dark fury that he had inherited from the man before him.
"You know what else I shouldn't be doing with my heart condition?"
Aizen sighed and squatted lower, to face his son straight on.
"It was necessary."
"Well he failed your test. He betrayed you. So now you take him off Hogyoku, right?"
"No."
Blue eyes narrowed. "What?"
"So that's why you did it?" Aizen watched him carefully. "You thought it would make me take him off the doses. You thought you could save him if you let him sleep with you?"
"I didn't do anything, your freak out there didn't give me much of a choice."
"I think you'd look a lot worse if it hadn't been your choice. You gave in to save him. Who knew I could breed a son so...noble."
"Fuck you, Aizen! Anything good in me did not come from you!"
"Oh?" He glanced around at the mess of pills and booze. "Yes, I see you have picked up your mother's bad habits."
"ARHG!" He made a lunge but pain won out and he cringed back against the wall.
"She killed herself like this, you know."
"No, you did it to her! You forced her to take those pills."
Aizen frowned. "You've remembered. You shouldn't be able to."
"Well I did."
"Perhaps when coming off Hoguyoku..." he mused.
"Maybe, but the point is you murdered my mother, abducted me, and I bet you did the same to the rest of them."
"That's none of your business, but I'm surprised this is the first you've addressed the issue, Grimmjow." He watched him. "You meant to bide your time, wait until you could kill me, correct?"
"I had hoped Interpol would do it for me."
"I wouldn't expect them to give you any help now, they are still recovering from their losses."
Grimmjow gritted his teeth. Aizen continued, "You had promise Grimmjow, but I don't think another dose of Hogyoku will erase all your hatred for me, and I certainly don't need two disloyal soldiers in my ranks."
"Then let us go. You don't need me or Ichigo anymore."
"On the contrary, I need you both. Ichigo and I had a discussion this morning. He has agreed to play by my rules."
Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. "What, why?"
"For you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I couldn't force obedience on him but I could buy it. You were a test, Grimmjow, but not in the way you thought. I gave Ichigo what he wanted: full access to you. So now, as long as he can keep you, he'll do what I ask."
Grimmjow dropped his cigarette. It smoldered on wet tile and went out. He waited for the joke to be revealed, but it wasn't, Aizen just kept watching him.
"You.." but no words came. He swallowed hard. Aizen put a hand over his cast.
"I regret that I let Interpol take you. But since that day you have given me so much, son. Now, this is your purpose. You get to live, get to stay with your family-"
"So long as I play whore to a teenage boy."
"If you want to look at it like that."
"I hate you."
"I'm sure you do." He rose. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry son."
"But you aren't."
Aizen paused. "No, but sometimes children don't want to hear the truth from their parents. I'll send someone to repair your room."
He left. Grimmjow watched him go. He swallowed back the rest of the vodka, lit another cigarette and drew it up to his lips. But after the first drag his head sank into his hand, his throat swelled tight and he couldn't hold back what came.
"He played us all."
"No doubt he has been watching us. Did he really expect us to just accept Ichigo?"
"Of course he did, if he orders it."
"But he changed the rules! He's never changed the rules for us! He makes us change to them.
Grimmjow picked out the many voices around him, but it took some time for the room to become clear, for his squinting eyes to see past the raging headache and lingering drunkenness in him. He knew this room. It was Halibel's. Everything was white, it was her taste, or at least it had been before she'd gone hollow as well. He shifted enough to figure out he was stretched on her sofa, a blanket was over his bare shoulders.
"Halibel?" He tried to sit, but didn't make it and just fell back with a groan. He covered his eyes, headache winning out.
"The men came to repair your room. You were unconscious in the bathroom," she explained.
"Aizen..."
"Did he come to see you?" He tried again to sit. This time, she helped him get there. Now he could see that all the family had been gathered.
"Yeah. I'm guessing you already got the same message."
"Yes."
He sighed, leaning his head into his hands. "So what now?"
"We do as father says," Ulquiorra answered.
"So you're all just fine with this?" He drew his head back up, surveyed his siblings. "Is there nothing left inside you?"
"It's not about that, Grimmjow." Stark moved forward, sat in the chair opposite him to look him straight on. "Aizen has given the go ahead. Do you really think there is anything we can do to intervene?"
"I don't know, Stark."
"Ichigo is an outsider. We'll keep our eyes on him, but for now, we have to accept our father's rules."
"Why?!" Grimmjow suddenly screamed. "If you're so dead inside why the Hell do you care about what he wants!? What in the Fuck is left to make you loyal?!"
"Power, Grimmjow," Halibel answered. "The power and strength he's always given us. He raised us as children, trained us, throwing that away is not logical, it would make us weaker."
"No." Grimmjow shook his head. "You're weak like this! Do you know how he got you all in the first place, huh? Do any of you remember your mothers? What he did to them?"
He saw Stark stiffen, Halibel's eyes flared wide, but then the door banged open and they all turned to see Ichigo in the doorway, a devil's grin plastered on his face.
"I take you all know the change in rules."
He sauntered in. Stark rose, in fact, everyone seemed to close in a bit, but despite the threat, Ichigo pushed among them to the couch.
"You're coming with me."
Grimmjow looked up at him, but said nothing.
"Come on, get up."
Grimmjow took a look around at the faces of his siblings. They were set. They were stone. So he became stone too.
He staggered when he stood. His brain was a mush of pills and liquor and his body was not moving so easily after all he'd been through. Ichigo caught his arm and steadied him.
They left the room without another word.
"They just finished in your room." Ichigo steered them that way. When Grimmjow's legs gave entirely, Ichigo lifted him up and carried him the rest of the way in, setting him on the bare bed, a folded pile of sheets waiting to be replaced. Grimmjow sat propped against the headboard, trying not to vomit. Ichigo steadied the side of his face.
"It's a little early to get lit, Grimmjow."
"No it's not."
"You aren't regretting your decision, are you?"
"No."
Ichigo smiled as if he knew better. "You're playing your own game, aren't you, with Aizen and the others?"
Grimmjow turned away, he wasn't about to give up anything to Ichigo. But his chin was caught and his face forced back around.
"I wasn't threatening you, Grimmjow. I was trying to tell you something. I've got my own end game too. I think you and I can help each other."
"How?"
"You want out of here. Well so do I. But he's got me by the balls because of the daily doses. I don't want to be Aizen's bitch any more than you do but I have to play ball until I figure out another way."
"So what do you need from me?"
"You have hours of free time all day while I'm stuck training with your dear old dad or getting tests done. So, if you agree to help me, I'm sure things will move along alot faster. Get me a sustained source of Hogyoku, and we get out. What do you say?"
Escape from this Hell? Fuck yes. But take Ichigo out there, into the real world where he could do anything to anyone and ruin his own life while he was at it? That was a different question entirely. The thing was, he had no chance of getting Ichigo off the drug in here. Out there, he just might be able to. In any case, he would be alot closer to saving him than he was now.
"Grimmjow?"
He shut his eyes, and let his head fall back against the headboard.
"Grimmjow." Ichigo pressed.
"Yes. I'll help you."
Ichigo smiled. "Good." He stood. "Now I've got training, I'll see you later."
Grimmjow watched him cross the room. The door shut.
He leaned over the edge of the bed and fished out another bottle.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for the kind, level-headed, well thought out reviews! You give me confidence and I REALLY appreciate the support I've been shown. I hope you all know how much I appreciate the time and thought you put into your words.
Thanks again,
Riza.