A/N: FUUUUUUUUUU-! I'm SO sorry guys, it's just… midterms. They are a great evil that saps creative flow and destroys free time like an atomic bomb. But here's your chapter, like, more than a week late.

Also, (you may all hate me for this, I understand) I'll be going to Austin Texas for my spring break, and I'm not sure I'll be able to write or post while I'm there, but I shall return on the 5th of April!

Thank you for your patience, and I apologize once more…

Nightfall

The room was quiet. Quiet as the grave, one might say, a ringing silence that screamed just as loud in Soi Fon's ears as gunshots had before, a raving, maddening lack of sound that threatened to drive her out of her mind.

Ggio sat, his chest heaving, a smoking gun in his hand, atop what was left of the man who had been Nnoitra Gilga; the wild, ochre eyed man who looked to be on the brink of losing himself in the blood-drenched carnage he had created, had emptied the whole magazine of bullets into the head of the man who had destroyed his home and murdered his closest friends. Nnoitra was no longer recognizable, his skull shattered into a pulped, bloody mass atop his thin, ragged stump of a neck.

The surviving of the two men dropped his weapon, his expression so empty there seemed to be a void where his face should have been. He staggered to his feet, nearly falling thanks to the cleanly split cut that dashed down his left calf, and began to stumble away.

"Ggio-!" Soi Fon called after him and standing to follow, not quite sure what he was doing, or even what she was doing- it was so much to take in, even for her calloused state of mind- but the second she took to her feet the world spun around her. It was probably from blood loss, she thought as if it had nothing to do with her, as if it were someone else's body; she did, after all, have a rather large, bone-exposing cut traveling across her ribs. She could feel her skin and the cloth from her shirt stretching and flapping as she moved, the stickiness of the crimson fluid that was still flowing sluggishly from the wound practically gluing the two materials together.

So rather than following as briskly as she had intended, Soi Fon had to pause to steady herself with the remains of a table as Ggio got progressively further away from her. Suddenly, however, he halted. Stood with his head down, staring at something at the floor. He crouched, to pick whatever it was up, and Soi Fon could only pray that it wasn't something that he could hurt himself with.

As he got back up she saw something flash redly in the dying light that streamed through the shattered windows of the bar, something that had been lying in a pool of half-dried blood, something that had flown from nerveless fingers when the first bullets had come tearing through the building and through flesh…

Tesla's silver crucifix dangled between Ggio's fingers, and he watched it as if entranced as it swung and spun on the end of its chain. The thing, which had been so bright after Menoly's cleaning, was clotted with congealed sanguine, hair, and what looked like flecks of either flesh or splintered wood. Soi Fon wanted to believe it was the latter.

Ggio unwound the crimson-stained chain from his fingers, his ochre gaze locked on the cross at the end the whole time, before he slipped the necklace over his head, heedless of the blood that streaked his face with the action or of the half-dried liquid that caught in his hair. The silver, which had always hung from Tesla's throat, now hung from Ggio's.

He turned now, and glanced at Menoly on the floor; he seemed unsurprised to find Tesla lying nearby with one arm outstretched in a last, desperate attempt to reach his sister. Soi Fon noted dully that he had succeeded, his now-stiffening fingers locked intertwined through Menoly's, a wide bloody streak showing where he had dragged himself the last few feet to reach her side. He must have moved while Ggio and Nnoitra fought, Soi Fon thought, because if he hadn't been dead when he first fell, he certainly was now. Even in repose the blonde man looked worried and apologetic, tears drying on his face. Heedless of the pooled red that had spread between the two siblings, the mingling crimson of those who already shared blood, Ggio dropped down beside his fallen friends, slipping their joined hands between both of his own.

"You're fucking liars, the both of you. You promised me, but you didn't keep your word," Ggio said conversationally after a moment of silence, breaking off with a bout of clipped, unstable laughter that was shrill and sounded unlike his own before his voice deteriorated into a sob that broke his words, "You promised you wouldn't leave me behind. What am I supposed to do now?"

Soi Fon remained silent, merely watching as Ggio seemed to slip away, his eyes glazing; maybe it was a mental preservation thing, but she didn't think he could take much more of anything without snapping. What could she do? Even as she watched he broke into silent giggles despite the tears the flowed down his cheeks or the sobs that wracked his body.

"Nothing left," she heard him mutter before falling quiet again, that hollow look in his eyes deepening until she thought she might fall into that madness as well. After a time that perfect, deranged silence settled once more as Ggio stilled. Perfect, dizzying, horrifying, agony-drenched quiet…

What was left of the door exploded off the hinges, and in an instant that noiseless state was shattered just like the windows; Soi Fon whirled with a hiss, snatching up a discarded gun and feeling her ribs shriek in pain with her movement. Ggio made no move, not so much as twitching at the sound.

"Soi Fon!" a voice cried, and it took the addressed woman a moment to realize that speaker was Yoruichi. The violet haired woman was vaulting toward her even as she crumpled to her knees with relief and anemia-induced weakness.

"Yoruichi," she breathed, clutching at her friend's sleeve for support, "Thank God…"

"What happened here?! Are you alright? What am I saying, of course you're not, you're bleeding everywhere… There are bodies all over the place, it's a wreck, what- Holy shit," the dark skinned woman choked as she caught sight Ggio sitting, blood and tear stained, beside his adopted family. Kisuke, who had paused over the headless corpse of Nnoitra, looked up as Yoruichi broke off suddenly and followed her gaze mutely.

"I'll call Tessai," he said shortly, walking out of the room as if unsure of what to do in such a situation. Barely a moment later they heard him snap, presumably over the phone, "And don't bring the kids,"

Yoruichi half-lifted Soi Fon into a still-acceptably stable chair and peeled the torn part of her shirt away from the wound with tears in her eyes.

"They're dead, aren't they?" she whispered as she examined the cut across her friend's abdomen; Soi Fon only nodded, "And Ggio? How is he doing?"

The other woman couldn't answer, only looking over the dark skinned woman's shoulder at the man in question. He was not only deathly silent now but equally as still, his head down and his shoulders drooping as if he were Atlas himself. His long braid had come slightly unraveled, the end trailing through pools of sanguine that could have belonged to anyone; the gash across his calf was still pulsing with timed rushes of blood, but the glass cuts in his forearm had slowed to an oozing trickle despite the fact that the lips of the wounds were still parted fairly.

"Sit tight," Yoruichi instructed her friend, "And try not to move too much. Tessai'll come and patch you up soon,"

With that, the violet haired beauty skirted the outstretched arm of a murdered thug and went to crouch next to Ggio. There was no movement from the other party, as if he didn't notice her presence… until she touched him, at least. She brushed her hand lightly across his shoulder to get his attention, and Ggio did something that Soi Fon had never seen him do before: he flinched.

He shied away from Yoruichi's fingers as if she meant to cause him arm, his ochre eyes wide and unrecognizing. His lips fluttered as if he meant to speak, but no words came forward, and after a moment all the energy drained from his body. Ggio returned to his vigil, slumping forward as he realized that nothing was happening to him. He probably wouldn't have cared if something had happened, perhaps he would have even welcomed it…

"Ggio?" Yoruichi asked, touching him again. There was no reaction at all this time, at least not immediately. His gaze traveled eventually to the dark skinned woman's face, vague and unfocused, as if he was staring right through her, "You need to let go now… you're hurt, you can't stay here,"

"No," the man said numbly, his voice barely audible as he shook his head slowly.

"You can't help them anymore Ggiovanni," the woman said through her own tears, "You have to let me help you now, alright?"

Ggio didn't answer this time, only staring at Yoruichi after she had finished speaking. She reached forward and pried his bloodied fingers off of the dead siblings' interlocked hands; she encountered no resistance, and unnervingly, his hands were as cold as Tesla and Menoly's.

"No," he breathed again with a shudder. Soi Fon watched as Yoruichi leaned forward and wrapped Ggio in a tight hug as if she intended to hold the breaking man together; two pairs of ochre eyes leaked salt water in equal soundlessness.

Soi Fon watched as Yoruichi held Ggio, no longer sure if she was holding him for his comfort or for her own.

….

"Something's happened," Ulquiorra conjectured flatly as he looked around the table in Las Noches, noting with something akin to interest that the seats of Nnoitra, Aaroniero and Szayel were all empty. The doctor's chair was vacant frequently, so that didn't surprise him, but the other two had been on a job… perhaps Ggiovanni and Tesla had managed to kill them, the green eyed man thought, or perhaps not.

"No shit," Grimmjow muttered ill-temperedly, his arms crossed as his blue gaze darted around restlessly, "Aizen wouldn't have called us here otherwise."

"Schiffer's right," Stark spoke up as if he hadn't heard Grimmjow, "This isn't one of Aizen's usual briefings."

As if hearing his name had summoned him, the double doors at the front of the room swung open, and Aizen himself swept into the meeting area looking decidedly angry; in his wake strode Gin and Aaroniero, Tousen nowhere to be seen. The dark haired leader of the Espada sat down at the head of the table and the schizophrenic disguise-master in the ranks took his own seat on the other side.

There was a stretch of silence that seemed to stretch the nerves of everyone in the room.

"Well, Aaroniero?" Aizen Sousuke said frigidly with a stiff smile that didn't reach his eyes, "Give your report."

"Nnoitra Gilga is dead," the addressed man announced. There was a ripple of surprise around the table, and Ulquiorra flicked a glance across the table to see Grimmjow sitting in utter shock, unable to even be hateful, "As is his squad, but he managed to kill the siblings Tesla Lindocruz and Menoly Mallia; Ggiovanni Vega is marked as at least temporarily out of action and the one called Soi Fon is lightly injured. Target Yoruichi Shihoin was absent at the time of raid, location unknown,"

With that, the man sat down, his face perfectly composed.

"How?" Yammy wondered, seemingly speaking to himself, "How did Nnoitra let himself get killed by those pipsqueaks?"

"He was cocky," Aaroniero sneered, his clear expression disappearing, "Cocky and overconfident and idiotic to the point of playing with his prey."

"Enough," Aizen put in calmly as Yammy opened his mouth furiously, and instantly order was restored to the murmuring group around the table; attention became focused on their leader and the skulking silver-haired man behind him, "The fact of the matter is, for the time being our threat has been removed, albeit at the cost of Nnoitra. A very affordable cost in my mind."

Another low mutter swept across the room, one neither of assent or dissent, simply an acknowledgement.

"We will proceed, but keep something of an eye on Vega; I don't want to have to do more than I have to, and if he doesn't try and get back up, we can leave him in his defeat… if he doesn't have the good sense to do so, however…" Aizen left the threat hanging on the air, "Someone inform Granz about this and then get back to whatever you were doing beforehand. I have business to attend to and not enough time to deal with you."

And just like that, the leader of the Espada left the room, the ever-grinning Gin waving at the group at the table as he followed his master.

Grimmjow met Ulquiorra's eyes across the table, and the green eyed man had to suppress a sigh; the look on the other man's face informed the Bat that they would soon be doing something very stupid.

…..

"Are we really just going to leave him alone?" Ichimaru Gin asked Aizen as the man stalked down the halls of Las Noches like the devil was on his heels.

"For now. We'll see what he does and then take care of it… from what Aaro tells me, the man is practically begging to die already, but I see no point in giving him what he wants. If his mind has been wrecked by the death of his friends than that is his fault for putting so much of himself into the people around him. But you know that already, don't you Gin?"

"O'course," the fox grinned at the man he followed, but behind the visage of servitude lay something entirely different, and even as he spoke he could see the face of a woman, he curly reddish hair falling over pale eyes, a small mole beside her smiling mouth, "O'course I know not to put too much in to anyone; there'd be no point here, since we're going to kill them all anyway."

"It's as you say, Gin," Aizen replied, a small, cruel smirk twisting his lips, "It is exactly as you say. Every last one of them…"

Gin suppressed a shiver of hatred and smiled wider. That was all he was good at, after all, hiding and smiling.

Just like a fox in a hole, he would bide his time…. Waiting, watching, and smiling all the while.

…..

"Almost done, Ms. Soi Fon," Kisuke said gravely, standing by the woman's head as Yoruichi held her friend's hand for comfort; Tessai squinted in concentration behind his glasses, sliding his surgical needle through Soi Fon's skin carefully and pulling the thread tight over the lips of her wound. She winced at the feeling, but it didn't really hurt thanks to the numbing injection he had given her before.

"Thanks," she replied, her eyes closed as to avoid looking at the sight of her own skin being treated like fabric, even if she couldn't feel it. She looked for something else, anything else to latch her sight onto, something to distract, and found gaze drawn to where Ggio sat, slumped unfeelingly against the wall. He was staring at nothing, his eyes vacant, his body still except for the occasional shudder that rocked him at random intervals; every time he trembled, Mao, who had taken up sorrowful residence on the man's lap, would give a trouble miao and run his sandpaper-tongue across his master's hand. Eventually Soi Fon drew her eyes away from even this, tracing the lines in the wood at her feet instead.

The bodies of the mafia-runners had been disposed of Kisuke-style, which involved tossing them in the back of Tessai's truck, covering them with a tarp, and driving a good ways before dumping them, but the bloodstains were still on the floor. It had been less than eight hours since the shoot-out after all, and it was now approaching midnight as Soi Fon finally got all of her wounds taken care of and looked at.

In the corner Tesla and Menoly had been laid side by side in as gentle a repose as they could be arranged in considering the violent means of their deaths before they had been covered in a sheet to keep their forms away from wandering eyes- not like one could hide the nature of what was there, in that corner… more than corpses, there was heartbreak, there was madness, there were breathing shadows and living nightmares.

Soi Fon concentrated on her breathing and the grain of the wood, hearing another soft mewl from the cat before Kisuke tapped her arm.

"You're done, love. Now we'll have to see about Ggiovanni," the blonde said, looking tired and unwell in the sallow light.

"I'll do what I can to help," the woman replied, feeling Yoruichi squeeze her fingers gently before letting go. She stood, feeling her stitches stretch tight, but not uncomfortably so, across her ribs and walked to where Ggio sat, crouching at his side. This action scared Mao out of the man's lap, sending the silver tabby skittering back up the stairs, the scent of congealing blood driving the animal mad with nervous fear. Behind her, Yoruichi shook a cigarette out of a crumpled box and lit it between her lips, taking a steadying drag and covering the metallic scent of gunsmoke and death with the smell of tobacco smoke.

"It's time to get up," Soi Fon told the man. He simply turned vacant eyes on her, not bothering to stir for a moment before he staggered to his feet in blind compliance, heedless of the gash in his calf. Yoruichi dropped her cigarette in her rush to catch the dark haired man as his wounded leg buckled, almost dropping him to his knees.

Tessai looked up from where he had been preparing a cloth with more local anesthetics, putting down the rag and walking directly up to where Yoruichi stood, struggling to keep up Ggio's unresponsive weight as Soi Fon made an effort to give aid without tearing her new stitches. In an instant the huge man had Ggio wrapped in his arms and lifted off the floor, placing him in a chair more gently than someone of that mass should have been able. Ggio simply watched as if disconnected as the medical man wiped half-dried blood from the wound, splitting the lips of the cut apart to see how deep it went.

Soi Fon approached from behind and took Ggio's limp hand, causing him to half turn and look at her from the corner of his unrecognizing eyes.

"You don't have to watch you know," she said to him, "Since you don't like needles, I mean,"

Ggio turned away from her with no indication that he could hear her; his ochre eyes set on the glittering silver-red of needle that Tessai was working with, and Soi Fon braced herself for his reaction toward it- but there was none. Ggio simply traced the methodic movement of the needle and thread through his skin as if it didn't belong to him.

Soi Fon bit her lip.

Something was seriously wrong, more than just having her home destroyed and her friends slaughtered.

Maybe she had lost more than just Tesla and Menoly… what if she had lost Ggio to his own dark thoughts?