Finally to the end of The Best Mistake :) Was 20k words excessive? Probably, but in my defense I did absolutely no set up for this story in that one, except having Aizen take Rukia which was a completely spur of the moment decision. I had no idea how I was going to fix it. Now I've got my set up done-mostly-so we can get on with things. :)

The children were all asleep, including Yuki who'd woken up wailing for a midnight snack just when everyone else was settling down. She had taken some effort but had finally given in.

Gin had spent the last hour doing his very best to convince Rangiku of his unending adoration, and now she, too, was on the verge of drifting off to sleep, a very dreamy, satisfied smile on her lips.

Gin wanted to let her go to sleep; just like her, he'd like to leave the past behind, never to be considered or explored, but that wasn't going to happen. Everything he had ever said or done was going to be questioned, examined, and revisited by every captain of the Gotei and probably a great many other people as well. They would know exactly who he was and what he had done, and Rangiku, if she remained by his side, would be giving implicit support. She needed to know exactly what sort of monster she was supporting.

"I need to tell you what I've done," he said, pulling away from her embracing arms and rolling onto his back. He stared up at the room's shadowy ceiling. That was all she'd seen, shadows of the darkness in him. It was easy to forgive the vague ideas, lies to protect them, cooperation and collaboration with an enemy, again to protect them, even the idea of murder committed in the abstract, with the eventual goal of saving all of Soul Society, was forgivable, but he wondered if she could really forgive his actions when a light was shined over it all and every detail was visible.

She'd said she would, and as insane as it was, he found he believed her, but she still needed to know.

Rangiku immediately moved close, wrapping an arm around him. Her fingers rested on his shoulder, where she could feel the beginning of the scar that crossed his back. She called it a reminder of how much he loved Shiro. He thought of it as more of a reminder of just how close he had come to being the kind of monster who could allow his own son to be cut down in front of him. He'd known it was coming, known from the moment Aizen learned that Shiro had mastered bankai that Shiro had a target on him. Those who were strong but not useful, they all did. Sooner or later Aizen intended for every last one of them to die—and Gin had been entirely okay with that.

"Not for me," Rangiku said softly. "I don't need a confession. I know it's hard for you to share, but if there is anything that you want to tell me I will listen. I love you, and that's not going to change. You can tell me what you need to, but you can hold back what you need to, too."

He wrapped his arms around her. Even as he tried to push her away with his words he could not stop himself from holding her as close as possible. "I sent Suzuki and his team to their deaths. I chose them knowing they were going to die. Then I went and watched." He started with the crime that had most affected her, the one with the least justification, that he personally was most guilty for. Maybe that would finally knock some sanity into her and convince her that she couldn't stay.

Her hand tightened painfully on his shoulder for just an instant before relaxing. "Oh, Gin," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"What?" Whatever reaction he had expected that was not it.

"You liked Lieutenant Suzuki, and your men, they're the only ones you've ever lost. You didn't want to sacrifice them, did you?"

"That's hardly the point, Ran."

"I think it is. That's what you did, isn't it? Aizen gave the order, and you obeyed. You sacrificed them because you thought you had to if you were going to have a chance to stop Aizen. What would have happened if you'd refused?"

"I don't know," he answered, but that wasn't exactly true. He had guesses. His own death was probably the best outcome. There were plenty of themes and variations on his family suffering and himself being forced to do what he'd refused to do in the first place. Once he'd joined AIzen's little conspiracy his actual choices had quickly disappeared, but he had known that would happen when he joined.

"I never considered refusing," he said. "From the very beginning I resolved to become the most monstrous of all of his men. I chose the crimes that brought me to his right hand. I murdered the third seat for no other reason than to get his attention. I planned it out in cold blood, and I went and murdered a living person without a second thought. When Aizen questioned me about it I smiled because I was so happy it had worked. I never questioned Aizen's orders because I didn't want to. My place at his right hand was more important to me than any number of lives."

For a while Rangiku was silent, and Gin wondered what she was thinking, if she was finally beginning to understand. She insisted on seeing him as someone who cared about the people around him. He needed her to see that was completely untrue. He would have happily burned all of Soul Society to the ground if that could have guaranteed her safety and happiness.

"How did you know?" Rangiku asked, refusing, as far as Gin could tell, to understand what he was telling her, and going off on a completely different tangent. "When no one else had ever figured it out? How did you know? If you killed that officer to get his attention you must already have known what he was."

Gin sighed. He should have known this would be what was important to her. She really didn't want to know what horrible things he had done, only why. "Do you remember when I was out, that last year we were in Rukongai, and you followed me and you were hurt? I had to carry you home on my back?"

Rangiku shook her head. "It's pretty hazy. All I remember is being really tired for a long time afterwards, and I remember you were upset, but you wouldn't tell me why."

"One of his men stole your reiatsu. They did the same to a lot of people in Rukongai, trying to make a Hogyoku of their own. I followed them and saw what they were doing. I saw Aizen leading them."

"And you decided to stop him?" Rangiku said softly. "Before you'd ever gone to the Academy? Why would you think you could ever-and I thought Shiro-chan was determined. You really decided you were going to find a way to stop a lieutenant of the Gotei when you were nothing but a half-starved orphan from Rukongai?"

Gin thought about that for a moment. He supposed, looking back, that it probably wasn't the usual reaction for someone in his position when discovering that kind of evil. He knew the rules for survival in Rukongai as well as anyone. Keep your head down and if you did happen to run into anything dangerous, run as fast as you could in the opposite direction. Even those who made an art of looking tough only ever picked on those they knew they could beat and would vanish when anyone with real strength happened to pass through. Shinigami were never, ever to be messed with. "He made you cry," he finally answered.

Rangiku let out the softest of laughs. "All of this because I cried? I'm pretty sure everything you've done to try to stop him has caused me more than a few tears."

Gin sighed. It wasn't like he was unaware of how hard it'd been on Rangiku. He knew it had hurt her every time he tried to put distance between them, every time he lied to her or refused to tell her what he was doing. Even without Shiro constantly pointing it out to him he was very much aware of how often she drank or cried herself to sleep because of him. "We could have tried to run," he admitted. He'd never really considered that option, not even when they'd been powerless nobodies. It wasn't like he'd never run before. Running and hiding was how he stayed alive, but Aizen, he was too big to run from. From the very beginning Gin had understood that Aizen was a threat to every single person in Soul Society. "Maybe for awhile you could have been happy, but in the end, if he's not stopped, Aizen's going to destroy everything. There's no way to make you safe without stopping him."

"And that's what matters?" Rangiku said softly. "That I'm safe? That's all that matters?"

"Yes."

She drew a deep breath. "If he had promised never to hurt me-"

"He offered," Gin interrupted. "But I couldn't trust-"

"But if you could have trusted him?"

"If I knew you would always be safe-but you would be unhappy. You would cry. You love this world and these people so I will fight and if necessary I will die to defend them for you."

"But not because you care?" The sadness in her voice was painful to him. She wanted him to feel that same love she felt for everyone and everything around them, but it wasn't possible. For him she was the universe; she was all that gave value and purpose. He loved what brought her joy and hated what brought her pain.

His own feelings? He would swear he didn't have any, that he was utterly indifferent to anything that did not affect Rangiku. His own words to Aizen, calling himself a snake, cold and unfeeling, devouring everything in his path, might be the truth. Then again, Rangiku's long ago description of him as someone who didn't dare to let anyone in because he was afraid might be more accurate. He'd always known he was a coward.

The children had gotten in somehow. He couldn't deny that he loved them. Risking his life for Shiro was telling, but even more so was the fact that he had sacrificed all of his plans as well. Saving Miyako had been a calculated risk, and mostly for Rangiku anyway, but Shiro, he hadn't even considered Rangiku before stepping between Shiro and Aizen's blade.

"I can't," he said softly. "I've already got you and the kids to worry about. If I try to start worrying about everyone else I'll go mad."

She nodded against his chest. "You probably would," she agreed. "It is pretty hard work for you-giving a shit."

"It's exhausting. I have no idea how you manage it."

"I skip most of my work."

"Of course you do."