Title: Role Reversal

Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia

Spoilers: Soul Society Arc

Word Count: 974

Notes: Theme # 58 – Tie Time in Knots

A/N: Er – sorry I disappeared for a while there. I was dealing with the explosion of the HP fandom (those of you that know, know ;), and I've just been so exhausted from work and worrying about various things that I never had the energy to write. This drabble has been sitting on my computer mostly finished for almost a week. It might be slightly AU, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone so I had to write it. Creative license, I suppose. And even after it sat around for a week, I'm still not satisfied with it. Ah well.

Role Reversal

This wasn't supposed to happen anymore.

He was stronger than this. That had been proven many, many times, much to the disbelief of everyone else. But dammit, his leg was barely working, making quick movements near to impossible. A sense of frustration welled up in his throat as he cut at an approaching limb, pulling back into another street. Running away?

No! He snapped back. Just recovering a bit.

Where were the other Shinigami? A Hollow of this level had been attracting more of them of late. It seemed he couldn't enter a battle anymore without coming face to face with someone from Soul Society – some who recognized him and greeted him respectfully, others who had no idea who he was and couldn't care less. It seemed when he had no need of help, he couldn't get rid of them. Either way, one should be around.

No - he shouldn't even be wondering about them! He was perfectly strong enough to handle any stupid Hollow, he had been able to before they came around. Before the Hollows became… different. Why, then, were his steps faltering? Why did he feel like he did when he first attempted to swing Zangetsu? At least it was dark – that cut down on the effort he would normally need to use to avoid people.

It's just blood loss, he hissed to himself, tamping down the more rational voice that insisted such a thing would only affect the concentration of humans, not Shinigami. Admittedly, he hadn't been expecting the attack, too caught up in his own thoughts to have been paying proper attention. This is stupid, stupid, stu-

His ribs protested as he was hit with a heavy force and thrown backwards through the wall. It was always a wall – luck didn't allow him to simply be thrown through the air. No, if there was an obstacle somewhere, anywhere, he would hit it. Gritting his teeth, he rolled onto his back and moved to stand again, but his injured leg crumpled beneath him. The blood leaking into his eyes only allowed him to make out the vague shape of claws as they sped towards his face. He desperately slashed up with Zangetsu, knowing he would likely miss his mark.

All went silent.

It seemed to take ages, but when the dust cleared, he saw two blades splitting the grotesque bone mask. Under the dual pressure, the Hollow dissolved, leaving nothing but wreckage behind. Wreckage, and a large pair of dark blue eyes.

It couldn't be.

"Ru-"

"What did you think you were doing?"

It was her. The same striking features, soft ebony locks framing her pale face. The small hand holding her Zanpakuto – what was its name? He'd never asked her - trembled, allowing him a glimpse of her leashed anger. Just what he needed. Ichigo barely listened to her words, letting the rich sound of her voice roll over him, through him, helping his world mend.

"Where the hell were you going? Where were you leading it, Ichigo? Help was sent but they couldn't find you because of all the confusion of the reiratsu, and you weren't anywhere near where it appeared. Why are you so injured? You can fight better than that, dammit, you fought better than that when I first met you! Look at your leg, you can't even stand on it-"

He rubbed blood from his eyes, finally lifting his head. "I would have been fine, Rukia." He always was.

Her mouth worked silently for a moment as she heard him speak for the first time since they parted. He now realized that she had begun yelling first so that she did not lose her anger. The pause didn't last long.

"You would have been fine?" She hissed, the velvet in her voice turning to steel. "Is that so? Do you have any idea what it looked like to me when I arrived to only find debris and your blood? I didn't even know where you were, or if there was something seriously wrong with you to have allowed yourself to be so injured by a Hollow. I had to follow the trail of blood, Ichigo, your energy always messes up things like that, and I didn't even know if I would get there in time or what I would find and I kept thinking if only they had sent me first, it's my area, no matter what they say about my imprisonment, and what if something happened and I wasn't in time to help? Do you have any idea what that feels like? Do yo-" her tirade cut off abruptly, one hand raised to her mouth, dark eyes wide and guilty. He hadn't moved, but his silence spoke volumes.

She stepped forward, one hand outstretched, as though about to apologize. In a swift, very painful (but not as painful as what he had endured before) movement, he settled himself back on his feet, balancing against Zangetsu. She cried out in protest and rushed towards him, worrying again, and he reached out with his free arm to grab her and crush her to his chest. He heard her sharp intake of breath as she went absolutely still.

Ichigo held her there, held her in the dust and the ruin and the dark, focusing on how her tiny frame fit so easily in the circle of his arm. Rukia shuddered lightly at the feel of his warm breath in her hair and relaxed, allowing her body to mold to his as she pressed her face into his shoulder. Auras rose and settled, their contact familiar and comfortable. They were safe again. (For the safety of one required the safety of the other.)

There were so many questions, so many answers he needed, but at that moment… it didn't matter.

He'd gotten used to waiting.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I do."