Ichigo sat pressed against Grimmjow as the alpha spoke to his uncle. Grimmjow's arm was wrapped around Ichigo's waist, his hand resting on his stomach. Ichigo didn't think Grimmjow even noticed how he'd pushed up his borrowed top to smooth his fingers over the soft skin beneath his navel, but Ichigo noticed the moment it had happened and the significance of the unconscious action wasn't lost on him. He never really thought he'd be comfortable by any kind of possessive gesture coming from anyone outside of his immediate family — not when with anyone else he would be a possession — but with Grimmjow it didn't feel containing, like it was meant to keep him in his place. It was soothing, safe, and Ichigo relaxed into the touch as they talked about managing a future which still hung in the balance.

It takes a couple hours to get things sorted. By sorted Ichigo meant they kinda had a plan and it was anyone guess if it would work once other people started to get involved.

By the time the call ended Devlin had agreed to let Ichigo stay in the flat, at least until he came back to town, and after that if it was needed and they couldn't come up with anything else. Ichigo was grateful for that, but he couldn't help clinging to the hope they could figure something out which meant he could be with his family or Grimmjow instead. He didn't have anything against Devlin in particular, but Grimmjow was still new, as was the entire situation. If Grimmjow wasn't there — if Grimmjow was anyone else or their interactions had gone any other way — Ichigo couldn't say how comfortable he'd be in the house of a stranger. He hadn't been safe in his own home. How could he say he'd be safe in someone else's when the only thing that connected them wasn't there to act as a buffer?

"So," Ichigo said, grabbing up the piece of paper they'd left abandoned on the coffee table and making a couple of notes, ticking off that they'd had one of the many conversations which needed to happen. "What now?"

Grimmjow hummed, peering over Ichigo's shoulder to look at the list they'd made. "I don't know," he said. "I gotta make some more calls, but I…" he shrugged, the movement shifting Ichigo.

Ichigo twisted around so he could meet Grimmjow's eyes. "What?"

They were so close that Ichigo could feel the heart from Grimmjow's face radiating against his own cheek, but the proximity made it hard to discern the expression on the alpha's face.

"I need to let my parents know," Grimmjow said after a long moment. He sighed.

"Okay."

"I don't know how they're going to react. I…" He pulled Ichigo. "We're not exactly close. I live here more than at home. They're always traveling."

"You think they'll be upset?" Ichigo asked.

"I can't say. They'll either do everything they can do to keep us apart or not care at all." Grimmjow sighed. "I don't know which would be worse."

Silence fell between them. Grimmjow picked up his phone and turned it in his hands as Ichigo watched.

Ichigo couldn't imagine that uncertainty. His father had done all he could to keep Ichigo as free as possible though they were both tied by the tight constraints of the their clan's rules. His sisters weren't yet old enough to be involved with the politics, though their lives were guided by them, and all they cared about was school and friends and seeing him happy. And Shiro was Shiro, perhaps the only person who could step over the line when it came to defending Ichigo without everything blowing up in his face. Yeah, most of his family was going to do everything they could to force Ichigo into a role, into a life, where all he was was a bargaining chip to further other people's agendas.

But at least he knew where he stood, and who in his family he could trust.

Sighing, Grimmjow passed the phone over to Ichigo, and gently slid out from under him, putting the beta onto the floor.

"I'll try them later," he said. "They'll probably be out for lunch now anyway."

"Oh." Ichigo watched Grimmjow as he stood, holding out the phone to him. "Here."

But Grimmjow just shook his head. "I'm going to grab some snacks. You wanted to talk to your brother, right?" Grimmjow said, looking down at Ichigo. He shoved his hands into his pockets a shrugged. "From what you've said. It's probably better you speak to him without me hovering over your shoulder."

"You don't want to listen in?"

Because Ichigo had been there when Grimmjow talked to his uncle, so it'd only be fair. And he still had that voice in the back of his mind that said Grimmjow was being very nice to even let him contact his brother in the first place. He didn't need to leave for it.

No matter how many time Grimmjow did things to ease his worries — and it was working. He did trust him — it'd take much more time before Ichigo stopped analysing and double guessing everything.

"I can stay if it's what you want, but it's not my business what you discuss." Grimmjow said. "You can tell me what I need to know after. Call your brother." He ran a hand over Ichigo's head, the fingers combing through his hair a soothing away some of the tension in Ichigo's body. " You said he worries. It's best you let him know what happened before he finds out some other way."

Grimmjow's hand moved from the top of his head to his cheek and Ichigo lent into his palm.

"Thank you, Grimmjow," he said as the alpha pulled away.

With a nod and one last brush of fingers against soft skin, Grimmjow wandered away, disappearing into the kitchen, the door falling shut behind him.

Ichigo didn't know how long he sat there staring at the key pad on the screen of Grimmjow's phone. The seconds stretched into an age as the numbers taunted him, daring him to make his move. He knew it needed to be done, but the longer he hesitated the more his doubts whispered in the back of his mind. He wasn't worried that Shiro would blame him for anything that happened, but he was worried about what trouble Shiro'd get himself in trying to get ahead of the mess they were sure to find themselves in when the rest of their family found out Ichigo had disappeared.

The phone screen dimmed and he quickly tapped it to wake it back up before the phone locked on him.

He could hear Grimmjow banging around in the kitchen — what he was doing in there Ichigo had no clue — and the knowledge that getting things sorted with Shiro was vital for making sure Grimmjow was protected against his family too had Ichigo's fingers typing in the number he knew off by heart. He pressed the call button before he could dwell on it any longer.

The phone rang, the humming tone, loud in the otherwise quiet room.

But it rang and rang, and Shiro didn't answer.

The answerphone message played, but Ichigo couldn't find the words he needed to say, not when he was speaking into the void. A dark pit opened up in his stomach, each and every doubt he'd been pushing back slamming down on him with a vengeance.

What if his family already knew he'd run? What if Aizen had gotten to them first, told them lies? Ichigo didn't know Aizen well — no more than was proper for the positions they held — but he didn't doubt the man's ability to spin tales so that things turned sharply in his favour. He'd seen it happen. The elder's had already been taken into by Aizen to the point that the reason Ichigo hadn't already been handed over to him was to honour an age old tradition which had been observed by all the high-standing families for over five hundred years.

Aizen didn't have to force anyone's hand to have what he wanted, not in this case. His attack on Ichigo had only been to ensure nothing got in the way, that his claim was indisputable. Even now he'd be doing everything he could to turn his failure around. And because it was pretty much settled, because he was the Alpha, it wouldn't be hard. Most would turn a blind eye to the fact he'd been flouting the standard of Ichigo's family which the beta had grasped onto as his last reprieve in favour of washing their hands of him and reaping the benefits of allying with the Aizen legacy.

With his heart beating in his chest, and the pumping of his blood in his ears drowning out everything else, Ichigo's world narrowed down to just him and the phone.

With shaking fingers and nails which had once again started to grow out into claws, he fumbled with the buttons again, stabbing at the screen to call his brother again.

He had to pick up. He had to.

Again it rang and rang. Again Shiro didn't answer.

Ichigo let the answerphone message play out once more, the monotone voice dragging him deeper into the darkness which had opened up inside him.

What should he do? What could he do?

He fixed his eyes on the little numbers which ticked up every second the call stayed connected, counting away his chances, recording every moment of his desperation. Distracted by his racing mind, he barely registered when Grimmjow came back into the room and knelt beside him on the carpet.

"Ichigo?"

He snapped his head around to find the alpha's eyes staring right into his own, worry written all over his face. So close Ichigo could smell the concerned aura hanging around his mate, and he didn't doubt his own distress was seeping into the air, reaching out for comfort. Grimmjow had most likely sensed from the kitchen, its presence heavy in the room around them and making it hard for Ichigo to breathe.

"He didn't answer," Ichigo said, his own voice sounding both too close and too far away at the same time. He wasn't sure he even spoke the words. They were too detached to be his own, surely? He couldn't tell.

He was leaning there was a lot he didn't know, couldn't predict and couldn't control — so much more than he let himself believe.

So, maybe he was wrong about Shiro too?

"What if he never picks up?" he asked.

Grimmjow didn't answer that — probably figuring Ichigo wasn't in the right mind frame to handle whatever he was thinking — and instead reached out for the phone, placing his hand over Ichigo's slowly so he didn't get his skin ripped open by the wicked sharp claws which rested dangerously close to the vulnerable underside of his wrist.

"He might just be busy," Grimmjow said. "Here. Let's give it another go later." He tried to pull his phone out of Ichigo's hand.

But Ichigo wasn't having it and curled his fingers around the phone, the device creaking in his grip.

"No." He pulls his hand out from under Grimmjow's and curls over the phone with his body, blocking Grimmjow from attempting to grab for it again. "I need to… I need to…"

"Okay." Grimmjow drew his hand back, and instead put it on Ichigo's shoulder, pulling him against him. "It'll be okay, just breathe."

Ichigo did as he said and took one shuddering breath after another. The minutes stretched by, each draw of air into his lungs coming easier than than the last.

Eventually he came back to himself enough — had fought his way out of his spiralling thoughts enough — to release his death grip on the phone and hang up the call which had silently ticking over for quarter of an hour. The unsettled prickling of an unconscious shift was live beneath his skin, cracking with an energy Ichigo had never know before. It was the second time that had happened in just as many days, Ichigo realised, this one much more close to a fully realised one than the last. He didn't know if it was something he should be concerned about, the fact he didn't realise it was happening until afterwards could potentially be dangerous, could cause even more problems on top of the ones they already had.

It was just another thing he had no control over.