Final chapter! Enjoy-

Grimmjow edged around the corner, stolen gun proceeding him. All seemed quiet for now and he stepped out, eyes scanning their surroundings. "Ulquiorra's the one we should be looking out for. Aizen always sends that little bastard after his problems." He glanced over to where Shiro was following him, holding Ichigo piggy-back style, hands tucked under Ichigo's thighs to keep him aloft. Ichigo's arms circled the android's neck, face drawn and pale from the exertion of their last several hours, but his expression was stoney and his eyes were clear. "If we can take him out, it should finally flush Aizen out in person."

Ichigo nodded. "I don't know what I was expecting, but I never imagined this would end up being a street by street hunt." Ideally, he'd hoped to eliminate Aizen's support, wipe out most if not all of the espada, and then send Shiro in for Aizen last. It was all supposed to be on his terms, his and Shiro's. Instead, they found themselves hunted and trying to pick off as many of their hunters as they could while they searched for their real target.

The cold, winter rain made the streets hazy and had an odd way of distorting sound. The echo of footsteps could have been just around the next corner, or two streets down, or it could have been just the patter of rain dripping from the full gutter of the building next to them.

"Shoulda built a whole army of robots instead of just Shiro." Grimmjow commented, his tone disgustingly casual given their circumstances.

Inverted eyes narrowed over at him. "Shoulda let me kill the witness in the first place."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Good to know that even while we're fighting for our lives, you two can hassle each other." The sun was starting to sink low in the overcast sky and the streets were shadowed, shrouded in misty rain. "We should be looking for a place to lay low for the night. It's going to be impossible to see what's coming until they're already on top of us, and we can't do this all night anyway. Let Aizen's men wear themselves out throughout the night looking for us."

"Got any suggestions? Aizen knows all my haunts, they'll all be covered."

Just then a phone began ringing, the tone a generic jingle barely louder than the sound of the vibration. All three froze, before Grimmjow cursed and pulled his phone from his pocket where he'd shoved it when he hadn't been able to get ahold of Ichigo before their wild flight began. Aizen's name came up on the backlit screen. "Fucking hell-" Grimmjow cursed again and took the phone between both hands, muscle straining.

"No." Shiro, pulling one hand from under Ichigo, reached for it before the man could break it.

Ichigo's arms tightened around the android's neck, before Shiro more carefully let go of his other leg to ease him down to the ground.

"No?" Grimmjow sputtered, "That bastard could be tracking us with this damn thing right now!"

"Yes. Let him track us in the wrong direction." Shiro said, yanking the phone from Grimmjow's grasp. Down the street a ways, half obscured in the darkening, evening gloom and the misty rain, a traffic light changed colors and an engine was put in gear.

Stiffly, Ichigo walked a few steps to be closer to a slimy brick wall that could take his weight if need be. He sucked in a breath, understanding what his android was getting at. "That could put innocent people in danger, Shiro."

"It could buy us time." Shiro countered.

"He's right, Ichigo. And it's no more dangerous than it is while they're shooting up the streets."

Ichigo hated it, but they were right. He grit out a reluctant, agreeing sound. But, "Answer it first." The call had been disconnected and was ringing again. "Maybe there will be some sort of background noise to give us a clue as to where he is."

"The same will be true for him."

"He'll hear rain, maybe cars, maybe Shiro and me. That could be anywhere in this city."

Grimmjow nodded and connected the call, snarling out an impressive curse for a greeting.

Aizen's smooth voice drifted from the speaker, the tone just barely audible to Ichigo and Shiro over the sound of the rain. Grimmjow's damp hair hung in his face, shadowing the glacial eyes that turned toward Ichigo. "You can't have him." His voice was a growl as hard as stone. "There is no price. You can quit hunting us now and maybe we'll let you live."

Aizen's laugh sang across the speaker. Shiro curled a lip and flashed white teeth. Given how human-like the teeth looked, the expression was far from humanoid, far from tame. White, mechanical fingers curled into fists, then uncurled and it was clear the android wanted to get its hands on the politician.

Grimmjow grunted a derisive laugh right back. "You think that's the only one he built?" There was silence on the other end of the phone and a slight, cold smirk curled Grimmjow's lips. "No where you hide is safe, Aizen. Your espada are nothing." He hung up the phone, expression shifting into something more strained. He shook his head. "Sounded like he was in his office. Quiet. There was maybe someone moving around close by, or he was pacing, but I doubt that. He's scared though. He's trying to make deals."

"Is that why you told him we have more at our disposal than we do?" Never in his entire life had Ichigo thought he'd genuinely wish he had made an army of androids instead of focusing on one exceptional one. One was impressive enough, especially one of Shiro's caliber, and Shiro was beyond functional and adequate, but having a dozen Shiros would have made this night a lot less daunting.

"No reason not to keep him nervous. If he's scared and expecting an attack from every direction, he'll be more likely to make a mistake." Grimmjow held the phone out, ready to get rid of it.

Without anther word being said on the matter Shiro, phone in hand, stalked off into the hazy evening in search of a car that would be still long enough for it to slip the phone under the bumper.

They sought cover for the night when it returned. Shiro found them an empty vacation home. The owner was gone for the season and the house was poorly stocked, but the heat worked and it was fully furnished. Ichigo dropped heavily to the nearest sofa, features pale and breaths coming in controlled, tight inhales. He immediately started working the metal fittings around his legs, hands shaking.

Grimmjow knelt in front of him. "Here. I got it. Sit back." Relaxing was out of the question, he knew.

Standing nearby, Shiro tilted its head, running vitals, before it announced, "You're in pain. What do I need to bring you?"

"Something stronger than they probably have here." Ichigo ground out. He hadn't thought to grab the small pharmacy of doctor prescribed medications he kept at home. There hadn't been time to think about it. He shook his head. Going back was impossible. Sending Shiro back was equally as out of the question. "Check the bathroom, see what's here."

Shiro stalked off in search while Grimmjow finished with the brace and helped Ichigo maneuver from it. "Does this thing need dried off? Will it rust or something?"

Ichigo shook his head, using his hands to try pushing himself into a straighter, less slouched position in a vain attempt to lesson the painful tension in his spine and hips.

Grimmjow set the brace aside, looking up when Shiro returned, looking displeased. The android handed over a few white bottles of generic, over the counter medications. Grimmjow looked the bottles over, then handed one to Ichigo.

Ichigo hissed a breath. "Better than nothing." But it wasn't going to do much. He twisted the cap off, unsteadily shaking out as many capsules as he dared take at once, and swallowed them dry.

"Bring the brace." Shiro instructed, then moved to pick up its creator. "There's a bed. Both of you need rest. I'll keep watch through the night."

There was no arguing. Grimmjow followed the android down the hall with the brace, noting how ginger and careful the killer robot was capable of being. Ichigo was all but limp in its arms, the only tension in his body coming from his clear and obvious discomfort. Now that they'd stopped and the adrenaline had worn off, Ichigo was crashing hard. Grimmjow wondered if he'd be able to keep going in a few hours after they'd rested some. His shoulder throbbed dully and he knew he'd have a stubborn ache for days if they survived all this, but for now it was tolerable and he was much more accustomed to this kind of life than Ichigo.

The house was only one story, but it was upscale and clearly well kept. The bedroom was large, the bed equally so. Setting the brace nearby, where it would be in easy reach, Grimmjow tugged the blankets down so that Shiro could set Ichigo down and help him get comfortable.

Despite his discomfort, Ichigo fell into an exhausted sleep before Grimmjow had even fully settled into the bed beside him. The bigger man ended up on his side, his real arm wrapped around Ichigo's middle over the blanket. Shiro silently patrolled the house and its yard throughout the night.

••••••

"How?!" Aizen's voice was the loudest anyone in the room had ever heard it. "How is that one armed gorilla, a cripple, and their pet beating us so badly?" There was panic in the grating, angry tone. His hands were wrapped in a white knuckled grip around a cup that had gone cold.

"Grimmjow's always been a surprisingly crafty bastard." One of his men said from across the room.

Aizen shot him a look that started as annoyed displeasure, then morphed to a scowl. He nodded subtly. "He's easy to underestimate." Cold, brown eyes shifted to the side, where a slight and silent man stood. "Ulquiorra. I want this dealt with, as quickly and quietly as possible. Before they can make too much of a scene or go through any more of my men."

Ulquirra bowed. "Yes sir." Then left the office.

••••••

Ichigo awoke in pain, sore and stiff and regretting the majority of his life choices. He groaned, the air tight in his lungs, as he worked himself over onto his side. Grimmjow was already up, rubbing at the front of his shoulder where his prosthetic sat against real, living flesh. The bigger man looked over when he heard the sound and felt the mattress shift.

"Where's Shiro?" Ichigo asked, looking around the shadowed room. The gloom let him know that it was either still early or that the rain hadn't let up. Maybe both.

Grimmjow shook his head. "Haven't seen him, haven't heard him."

Ichigo's scowl deepened. He levered himself into something resembling a seated position, despite the ache it sent through his spine and across his hips. "Fuck." He muttered under his breath. He gave Grimmjow a second look. "Take that off until he gets back. You shouldn't have slept in it."

Grimmjow grunted. "I left it on in case we needed to beat a hasty retreat in the middle of the night."

"You're going to be feeling it for weeks."

"Assuming we live that long."

Ichigo didn't reply.

The silence stretched for a few moments, before Grimmjow turned suddenly. He studied Ichigo's features for a moment. He used a hand, the real one, to turn those scowling features upward as he leaned down to kiss Ichigo. It wasn't a particularly long kiss, but it was slow and surprisingly tender, and Grimmjow's thumb brushed Ichigo's bottom lip at the end of it. The room was still and silent around them. A light patter was just barely audible against the curtain hidden glass of the window.

"…what was that for?" Ichigo asked in the small, quiet space between them.

A handsome smirk tugged at one corner of Grimmjow's mouth. "You a virgin?"

The soft moment broke and Ichigo's face went bright red. "What-? I'm not-"

"You were young, right? When you uh- When it happened?"

"I- I– Yes, I was…" Ichigo stumbled over his answer, shifting his weight up onto an elbow. "I don't– What are you-" He shook his head. "What are you getting at?"

Grimmjow shrugged a shoulder, then leaned in again, his lips brushing Ichigo's. He could practically feel the heat coming off the smaller's face in the otherwise cool room.

Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath, started to kiss the man back, then stopped and tried to lean away again. "Grimmjow…"

"What?" Grimmjow leaned back some. He didn't put much space between them, still hovering close, but he gave Ichigo a few inches of personal space. "We're not leaving until Shiro's back, right? And, I mean, look at our situation." He paused, searched Ichigo's features again. "I wont hurt you. If it hurts, we'll stop. Ok? If you're uncomfortable or just not into it, we'll stop and we'll wait for Shiro and if we live long enough for it to be awkward, we can talk about it later."

"I don't…know… Grimmjow. I like you, but I–" It was a lot to try to process, let alone admit. "I'm not sure how to make that work. I can't- There's a lot of things I can't do."

The smirk was back on Grimmjow's face. "Don't worry about that. I can do the parts you can't. We can figure it out." He brushed a thumb along Ichigo's jaw, appreciating the way Ichigo tipped his features into the gentle touch. "Why shouldn't we try?"

Why not try? It was a good question. They were being hunted. They were killing people. Who knew how much more time they had. Even if they managed to survive the organization they'd pitted themselves against, there was those belonging to Aizen that might seek retribution, or law enforcement, or any number of things.

Why shouldn't they try?

Ichigo let out small, soundless sigh. "Ok." It was nearly a whisper.

Grimmjow nodded, "Ok." He said it just as quietly, then guided Ichigo the rest of the way back again, using his presance more than his hands. The kiss was just as tender as the first, as Grimmjow carefully maneuvered himself to kneel between Ichigo's legs, his weight resting on his elbow on the pillow beside Ichigo's head. Fingertips found his skin, dancing across his clavicle.

"Take this off." Ichigo requested, voice quiet in the silent room as his fingers found the strap of the prosthetic. When his answer was a slight nod of agreement, he found the buckles and began loosening everything. The arm disconnected with a soft sigh as the inner workings shut down and it effectively became dead weight.

Grimmjow reached across himself to pull it free, setting it on the other side of the bed. The phantom sensation of having an arm where none existed was stronger than ever and it must have shown in his face, because Ichigo reached up to smooth his expression with soft touches, before pushing up to kiss him again, harder than the last time. He hoped they had time for some of that to fade.

Grimmjow closed his eyes, focused on the kiss and the callused but careful, precise hands framing his features for a few seconds. The phantom sensation faded from overwhelming to something dull, something more distant. He tipped his head, deepening the kiss and letting his tongue taste soft lips. A smirk found his face again when he felt Ichigo's breath catch.

It was a little awkward, and it took some maneuvering until they found something that worked, but for twenty minutes, they allowed themselves to forget their precarious situation and all that came with it. For those twenty minutes, it was just them and cut off moans and sounds of pleasure. Just bunched, twisted sheets and air warmed by heavy breaths.

When they were done, the room fell silent again but for the light patter of rain on the window. Just barely audible, a car drove passed on the seemingly deserted street out front. Laying on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling as he caught his breath, Ichigo half whispered into the quiet room. "I wish we'd met sooner."

At his side, Grimmjow shifted to look at him, naked and exposed in the dark. There was a slight, somewhat sad smirk on handsome features. "I don't think you would'a liked me much if we met before I lost my arm." The mention of it made his scars itch. He ignored it.

Ichigo studied the expression, but didn't say anything. Grimmjow was probably right.

Half an hour later and nearly asleep again, Ichigo jerked in startlement at the soft sound of the front door closing. At his side, Grimmjow was already upright, swinging his feet to the floor. He reached for the semi-automatic they'd left at the bedside the night before, but with only one arm, he couldn't hold it out and steady for long. His attention was on the mostly closed bedroom door as he rounded the bed in a rush, silent as a cat. He set the gun on the mattress beside Ichigo and reached for Ichigo's brace instead.

The quiet foot steps navigating the hallway paused at the door and both men held their breaths, before a familiar, distorted voice announced itself. "About 67 minutes 'till sunrise." Shiro said, shifting contents that crinkled and rattled, then pushed the door open to let itself into the room. "I suggest we-" It paused, taking in the scene it'd just walked into. "Witness, where're your pants?"

Grimmjow straightened with a relieved grunt of a laugh. He glanced back at Ichigo briefly. "No one sleeps in pants."

Ichigo pulled his hand away from the gun he'd been about to lift, flattening his hands on the mattress to push himself into a more upright position. He leaned the gun against the wall beside the bed and started searching for his own pants.

The android looked between them for a few silent minutes, then dismissed whatever was going on and finished entering the room. "Here." It handed over a paper bag.

"Where were you, Shiro?" Ichigo asked, accepting the bag with a frown. The contents answered his question. Little orange, child proof bottles stared back at him and none of the labels had his name on them. "This is going to attract attention."

"Yes." Shiro confirmed. "I suggest we get movin'."

Ichigo dumped the bag out on the blanket beside him, twisting bottles to read labels. Most of what Shiro had grabbed were prescriptions that he had, at one time or another during Shiro's creation and existence, been given by his doctors. He wasn't even sure how Shiro remembered most of them. He took his pick and twisted the cap off.

"I told the clerk Aizen would come. The building should be empty by now."

Pulling his shirt down over his abdomen, Grimmjow looked across the bed at the android. "You're setting a trap."

Shiro nodded.

"He'll know as soon as he realizes the building has been cleared out."

"Doesn't matter. He'll still send his men. We've already caused a scene and gotten away, he can't let that stand. I'll cut through as many of 'em as I have to 'till he comes outta hiding. I was created for this and I'll see it through."

Grimmjow nodded. The android was right; Aizen would be pressured to keep up his image. If Shiro managed to tear through enough of his men, Aizen would be forced to handle things on his own. And Grimmjow had no doubt that Shiro could handle the small army Aizen had under his thumb.

Grimly, Ichigo swallowed a few pills, then began getting dressed. After his brace was in place and he was standing, he helped Grimmjow re-strap his prosthetic in place. It came to life with a quiet whir and a sensation that made Grimmjow grit his teeth.

The taste of metal in his mouth and the static electricity running through his skin faded. Flexing metal fingers, Grimmjow looked over. "We're almost out of bullets. You wont have much back up in there."

"Understood."

They left shortly after that.

The drug store Shiro had broken into was more of a 24 hour, corner convenience store. Big, glass windows lined the front. A bell hung above the door and a row of coolers lined the back wall, filled with cold drinks and beer. The lights were on, but the rows of shelves and the space behind the counter was suspiciously empty. The glass of front door had been smashed inward, despite that it was surely unlocked when Shiro had shown up. He'd made it obvious where he'd been. It was for show. Aizen would surely know that.

It suited Shiro just fine.

Just before sunrise, a petite man in a finely pressed, well fitted suit strode up to the broken doors. His polished shoes crunched on the shards of glass littering the entryway. He paused there, looking across the seemingly empty building. Aside from the smashed front door, the convenience store was otherwise untouched, but eerily empty and quiet.

"You should have taken the offer Nnoitra gave you." The man said in an inflectionless tone as he turned, casually walking down the closest isle towards the back of the store. "Your work with the robot during your meeting with Aizen's associate was clever. Had you shown this kind cunning sooner, you could have done better than Sexta." He got no answer and his big, dull eyes narrowed just slightly. A halogen bulb in the back of the store flickered with a quiet crackle.

From outside, a car horn suddenly shattered the silence in a long, held scream of unbroken sound.

Ulquiorra spun on his heel, suit jacket flying open as he pulled twin pistols from holsters under his arms. He ran down the aisle and back for the door. When he reached it, he came face to face with the last of the men he'd brought with him. The man gurgled a wet sound, taking one last stumbling step before collapsing at Ulquiorra's feet.

Not a single shot had been fired. The four cars and all their occupants were silent. The vehicle nearest him still blared its horn, a man with a half caved in skull laying dead against the steering wheel, eyes staring sightlessly and bloodshot towards where Ulquiorra stood.

Shiro stepped around a vehicle, walking calmly towards the hitman. The android's hands were stained red and gore dripped in thick tendrils from its fingers. The white carapace of its body was splattered like an obscene paint job.

From behind him, glass crunched and the cold barrel of a semi-automatic found the back of Ulquira's head.

"Should'a investigated a little further." Grimmjow's rough voice said in a cool tone. "You're right, Quatro. I could have been higher ranked."

The stoic man slowly raised his hands, features impassive. He stared at the android, quietly seething. "Aizen will come for you."

"Good."

Ichigo watched from the shadowed alcove of a nearby apartment building as Grimmjow pulled the trigger and shot the smaller man point blank, executioner style. He stepped out, checked the empty street, then crossed with measured steps. The whole thing had taken less than fifteen minutes. They'd waited for Aizen's men to show up longer than it took to mow through his men. They'd been expecting the trio to be on the run, the way the day prior had gone. But Grimmjow, Ichigo, and the android weren't running now. They were fighting back.

"This was the one you were hoping for?" Ichigo asked as he stepped over the Espada's body to enter the corner store.

Grimmjow nodded. "Number four."

"Three more to go, then."

"Three more to go." Grimmjow agreed. The strongest three, or at least the favored three. They gathered what supplies the shop had to offer. Ichigo left the bag of stollen medications on the counter, save for the bottle he'd pocketed and would need in the coming hours.

••••••••

Grimmjow pulled the car to a rough stop, clutch catching awkwardly as he downshifted and then pulled it out of gear. The finer motor skills of his prosthetic were still less than delicate, but he'd proven he could wield it in a surprisingly fast time frame. If they survived long enough for him to practice with it, Ichigo suspected manipulating it would become second nature to him. The engine cut and the lights of the dashboard shut off and they sat in silence for a few long moments, surveying the looming building with held breaths.

Not sure what he was expecting to happen, Ichigo glanced over at Grimmjow. The big man studied the front entrance like he thought something might jump out at them; an entire army, maybe. But that wasn't happening, so Ichigo reached out and unlatched the passenger door. It opened with the creak of old hinges. In the backseat, Shiro followed suit. Grimmjow left the vehicle last, leaving the keys in the ignition.

They made it four steps before a shadow emerged from the immaculate landscaping lining the lot. Grimmjow's spine went ramrod straight and he brought his gun into a ready position, but didn't take aim. "Get out of our way, Harribel."

A step behind them, Shiro cocked its head and rested a hand against Ichigo's shoulder, ready to move him bodily out of harm's way.

The woman, third in Aizen's roster, walked closer in a measured pace, hands lifted away from her sides and spread to show that she was weaponless. "He killed her, Grimmjow." Her voice was quiet and husky, but easy to hear despite the distance between them. "He had Nnoitra do it. I never forgave either of them for it, I just never knew how to get out alive." Her gaze traveled the three of them and she nodded the slightest approval to herself. "I wont get in your way. Even if you don't kill him, you've done enough damage to prove that he's not invincible. He bleeds. Someone else will try again eventually."

Somehow, hearing it said aloud that even if they died trying they'd still left enough of a mark made the prospect of walking into what was likely a deathtrap that much easier.

She started to turn, like she'd disappear back into the surroundings never to be seen again.

"Wait." Grimmjow stepped forward, watching the set of her shoulders as she paused but didn't turn back to them. "Where's Starrk?"

"That lazy bastard hasn't shown up to work yet. Strange, don't you think?" She didn't wait for an answer and Grimmjow didn't stop her this time.

Aizen's top men were turning against him. The structure of his operation was crumbling. They turned to the front entrance again. A short step behind them, Shiro shifted. "I'll go first." It said in a lilting, mechanical voice that somehow conveyed confident acceptance.

Ichigo shook his head. "They'll be too prepared for that. We can't go through the front. Even if they had that woman guarding the front, they'll have others ready a step behind."

"We can go through a side entrance." Grimmjow said, nodding his agreement.

Shiro scoffed a disapproving sound. "Anywhere you can get us in at, they'll know of and have guarded." It pivoted, twisting to look behind it, artificial attention taking in the vehicle they'd just parked. Calculations ran through Shiro's wiring, taking measurements, guessing components. "What side of the building is Aizen's office?"

Grimmjow frowned, shaking his head, "South facing, but there's no doors or windows on that side." None in reach, at any case, and or this very reason. He'd always thought Aizen paranoid for it.

The android nodded, but didn't seem very concerned, its gold eyes scanning the building now. Shiro motioned over its shoulder with a thumb, still eyeing the building. "Can you show me how to drive that real fast?"

Grimmjow hesitated, following the gesture to take in the car, before what the android was getting at clicked. No doors or windows, just a brick building, an old metal car and an android that didn't bleed. Slowly, he nodded.

Given Shiro's swift AI, it took the android no longer than a few minutes of listening to Grimmjow's explanations of how to operate the vehicle before it was ready to go. Sitting in the driver's seat, Shiro rested a hand on the gear shift as Grimmjow reached across to turn the key in the ignition. The engine came to life smoothly.

At Grimmjow's side with a hand on the hood of the vehicle to take some of his weight, Ichigo scowled his usual surly expression. The idea didn't settle well with him, but they were running out of time, energy, and the element of surprise. "Take care to avoid damage." He told the android. "Your shell wasn't made for car crashes. The airbags will go off. Follow the car's momentum, don't try to fight it."

"I know what my shell's capable of." Shiro said, but recognized the distress its creator was feeling. No doubt physical pain played a part in elevated respiration and heart rate, but the android could do little about that now. Stress, it knew, could explain the rest. "Don't worry, I wont fail before my mission's been carried out."

Ichigo's brows furrowed, his hands white knuckled against the car's hood. His teeth clenched and his voice was low. "I'm not worried about that."

The android frowned, studied his features a moment, but no comprehension was found, and so Shiro turned back to the task at hand. It shifted the car from park and the two humans stepped back.

"We'll follow close behind." Grimmjow nodded to the android. "Expect gunfire from the enemy. Aizen wont be alone." The android nodded, though what Grimmojw said couldn't possibly have been anything it didn't already know. Shiro started to take its foot off the break and the car creaked, "Be careful, robot."

Those yellow eyes cornered. "I wasn't designed for that. Enough stallin'." There was no more warning before Shiro pressed the gas pedal. Trying to avoid the chances of hitting a support beam or the brace to an internal wall, Shiro guided the vehicle until the front end pointed toward the outer wall only ten or so feet from the corner of the building. It wasn't guaranteed to be Aizen's office, but it would hopefully be a surprise and get them into the building with a little extra time.

With the car positioned, he stepped on the petal. Mud and clumps of wet sod sprayed out behind the car as the tires spun in wet grass for a moment before catching enough traction to launch the vehicle forward. It fish-tailed slightly, than straightened out, then a moment later at high speeds smashed into the wall of the building. The sound was thunderous. The entire building seemed to sway and the south facing wall sagged around the front end of the vehicle in the short moment before brick was forced passed its limits. The car punched through, brick and pieces of the finished, inner wall beyond flying through the room. The car stalled halfway through, the front end an obliterated mess. Oil leaked in a puddle under it. The airbag deployed and moment after contact with the front end was made. A moment after the car fell still, all was silent, then the vehicle creaked with movement from within. The front windshield, spider-webbed chaotically, exploded outward in shards of thick glass as Shiro forced its way out of the vehicle and into the building.

The two men started, watching the android's unhesitant crash into the office building, like it had no idea what self-preservation was. A few minutes after the silence took over again, they both headed for the gaping, car shaped hole.

Approaching, Grimmjow held a hand out behind him to stay the other man. "Stay here."

The wrist of his outstretched arm was clenched in a tight grip. "No."

"Ichigo-"

"No!" Ichigo insisted, releasing Grimmjow's wrist to use the crunched, scraped body of the vehicle for support as he made his way over broken brick and mortar. "That's my android and this is my revenge. I'm not staying outside."

Grimmjow frowned, but followed him, sidling sideways along the body of the car to squeeze in around it. He ducked between bent, twisted rebars into the room beyond. Water dripped from damaged pipes somewhere and the fire alarm blared fitfully somewhere out in the hallway. Shiro was nowhere in sight.

Edging into the doorway, Grimmjow checked down both directions, before leaving the room. "C'mon, this way." Barely audible over the sound of the blaring fire alarm, someone screamed. A spray of distant gunfire made them both duck, before hurrying on. Halfway down the hallway, a door exploded outward with a crack of creaking, breaking wood. A man fell through it. Two bullets from Grimmjow's gun ripped through the man's chest, but a crushed throat and dangling arm proved that he was no threat regardless. Something wooden and heavy scraped across the floor to thud into the wall they were passing, hard and fast enough to make it shudder.

They rounded the doorframe, broken door hanging off one hinge, just in time to watch Shiro dart through an unassuming looking doorway behind where a large desk had sat. It looked like a closet, but an engine roared to life in the shadowed space beyond. There was shouting, then the creak of pulleys and a moment later the space was bathed in fitful, gloomy light as a garage door rolled up.

More gunfire, forced Ichigo and Grimmjow back, the pair huddled against the wall and out of line of sight. A snarl that could have only come from a metal throat sent a chill through the air.

"Shiro!" Ichigo shouted, hands over his head, over the sound of gunfire, shouting and the screech of tires. The android didn't respond but something heavy thudded against something even heavier. The screech of metal being scraped against dented metal was a horrid shriek. The sounds of violence followed the vehicle out of the garage as rubber finally caught on damp pavement and the SUV found traction enough to shoot forward.

Ichigo struggled upright from where he and Grimmjow had ducked against the wall. A hand found his arm, helped heave his weight upward, before half guiding, half dragging him through the door and into the hidden garage. It smelled like burning rubber, oil and gun smoke. A couple of bodies lay forgotten on the cold concrete floor. All of this was barely noticed as Ichigo's attention found the getaway vehicle and the android flattened across the top of it. "No, Shiro!" He yelled again, "Regroup! Get back here-!"

The android clearly heard the commands, for the pale features turned in its creator's direction, but Shiro overrode the commands on the simple principal that it's main goal, the very reason for its creation, was so near to hand.

Grimmjow and Ichigo watched the SUV skid through wet grass and turn onto the street beyond, fleeing the seemingly unstoppable enemy Aizen had made.

Blue eyes turned to the side, but Ichigo only shook his head, his attention helplessly anchored on the vehicle as it weaved through traffic, speeding away from them. "It's shell can't withstand that kind of force." He whispered. Bullet holes were bad enough. Bullets ripped through wiring and could severely impair the android's functions. But the weight of a multi-ton vehicle could crush it flat and destroy his android. His friend.

After a wild ride lasting several blocks, Shiro finally secured its purchase on the top of the vehicle. Metal crunched and dented. Artificial fingers punched through the top of the crumpled roof, gripping to wrench back. A horrible, grating screech cut through the air. The vehicle swerved as the driver within panicked, looking from the road, up to where the android was tearing through the top of the SUV, and back.

In the back seat, the target stared, his expression calm, but his jaw was clenched and his eyes were a little wide.

"Aizen." Shiro snarled. Its pale fingers curled around the edges of the hole it had made, every ounce of its artificial strength straining as it widened the opening with the shriek and grate of metal.

Since the swerving wasn't working, the driver slammed on the breaks. Crouched and bent against the rooftop, with an arm reached in through the gapping hole, Shiro was caught off guard. The android sneered as its momentum continued when the car stopped, breaks screeching and tires leaving black skid marks. Its arm caught and bent at a terrible angle as it was thrown from the roof, crashing to the ground in front of the vehicle and sliding. Sparks and fine bits of debris sprayed as the android left a scuffed gouge through the blacktop. The air smelled like burning rubber.

The arm that had been wrenched from inside the vehicle when the android was thrown from the roof still worked, but the elbow bent at an awkward angle, twisted incorrectly. The wrongness of it sent sparks along artificial nerves to tell Shiro of the damage. Still, when it came to a stop in the middle of the street, Shiro rolled to right itself and straightened with some difficulty. Black, pitted marks cut through its shell, leaving torn, bloodless scars in the mockery of road rash that would have sent a person to the hospital. The face-plate was cracked and chipped down one side to cut a furrow through its eyebrow and down one pale cheek. The eye on that side was dark and, when blinking failed to fix it, Shiro tapped a finger against its temple a few times. Its vision fuzzed back in like static on a screen as the eye began functioning again.

Just as it got its bearings, tires screeched and the smell of exhaust polluted the air.

Shiro looked up a moment before the front of the vehicle crashed into it. Baring teeth, the android glared murder at the driver even as it slammed into the grill, arms thrown forward and fingers screeching scrapes through the paint as it clung to the car. Damage reports hummed like a quiet, urgent cadence in the back of its head. Shiro hung there for a second, struggling to find a decent grip while it over-rode basic functions it could still continue on without, before rolling up onto the hood and letting its weight crash through the windshield.

Watching from down the road, where the android had left them in order to chase after their target, Ichigo breathed a sharp curse. There was something like grief in his tone. Without his workshop, it would be a long time before he was able to fix Shiro up. Without diagnostics hooked up, without the cradle and his computers, he couldn't be entirely sure of the extent of damage, but he'd built Shiro, created the android from nothing. He knew what Shiro could handle and what it couldn't, and he knew those limits were being pushed.

But they were so close to achieving their goal, he couldn't pull the android back now. Even had he wanted to, even had he tried, he wasn't sure Shiro would recall. The android had grown passed the mechanical answering of command words. It had flowered into a being of its own, artificial, yes, but intelligent and thinking.

At his side, Grimmjow stood panting, adrenaline giving the big man a jumpy, trembling stance. His good hand was pressed tight against the front of his left shoulder and Ichigo knew the nerves of his arm must have been on fire with how harshly the prosthetic had been used so soon after connection. Blue eyes were trained on the car down the street, sharp and hot for such a cold color.

Gun shots shattered the air, making both men flinch down. A moment later, the back windshield of the SUV shattered outward as the body of the driver was thrown through it. The vehicle, no longer being steered, drifted across into the oncoming lane, before speeding over the curb and slamming into a nearby building with a deafening crash that collapsed the wall and rained brick across the car.

"Oh…Shiro…" The words tumbled from Ichigo's mouth in a shocked whisper as the man lurched an unsteady, exhausted step forward. A metal hand wrapped around his upper arm to steady him, before Grimmjow pulled him close.

The big man shook his head, "Not yet."

All was still for a long moment, debris pattering across the torn roof of the SUV and the sidewalk. Ichigo tugged Grimmjow a step forward. As he did, the back door of the vehicle slammed open with a harsh creak so hard it hit the jamb and nearly swung closed again. Aizen stumbled free, clearly disoriented. He sank to his knees for a moment, blood darkening the side of his features and staining his shirt collar. Then his head snapped up and whipped around and the politician visibly recoiled.

A moment later, the car shifted as something within moved, and Shiro half pushed, half crawled its way through the vehicle's crumpled interior. Failing, the android dropped more than stepped out.

Aizen shot to his feet and bolted as fast as shock and whatever injuries he had sustained in the crash would allow for.

One arm dangling limp, Shiro reached across itself and used the open door to steady itself as it watched, in no shape to chase. A hinge on the door creaked and broke, jolting the android before it re-righted itself. With a twisting of its cracked features, Shiro wrenched the door the rest of the way free and flung it like a frisbee. It slammed into Aizen's back, flattening the man. After Aizen hit the ground, Shiro lurched a few steps towards the man, before something internal cracked and the android crumpled with a frustrated snarl. The sound came out distorted.

Grimmjow finally let go of Ichigo and together the two made their way the few blocks down the street, hobbling and in pain. The android looked up and over as they approached, meeting its creator's eyes. "Mission status; nearing completion." It announced, attention swinging back to where Aizen lay motionless. Gold eyes scanned the figure and Shiro reached up to knock on the side of its head again. "Vitals weak."

"Yours or his?" Ichigo asked, dropping on numb legs to kneel at the android's side. Sharp pain shot lightening through his spine and pelvis, but it was a distant problem to be worried about later. In his head, Ichigo was already assessing what he could of the damage Shiro had sustained. There was too much for him to fix in the field, without his workshop.

A snarky smirk spread across Shiro's face, further cracking its faceplate. "Both."

Ichigo nodded, voice catching. "You did well. I can take over from here." The android's gaze shifted up to him and he noticed how the pupil of one eye didn't respond to the change of light nor did it respond to the autofocus when Shiro went from looking long distance to Ichigo where he knelt much closer.

Pale, artificial features pulled into a frown, "You're in pain." Shiro announced, trying to push itself more upright with its one working arm. Damaged, bent internals ground together harshly. The reports the attempted movement flashed across Shiro's vision were numerous enough to make the android pause, before its attempts recalibrated and Shiro settled back again.

Shaking his head slightly, Ichigo swallowed and helped roll the android over to make this short conversation more comfortable on them both. "I'll be fine." His voice came out a whisper. "I'll fix you." He promised, nodding. "It's ok for you to shut down now. When I reboot you, you'll be better than before."

"Yyy-" The distorted voice caught on the sound like a broken record skipping and Shiro paused again before starting over. "You wont scrap me to start over, like with the others?"

"No. You aren't like the others. But it's going to take me some time. You'll be decommissioned for a while, I think."

"Understood." Shiro's gaze sought out Grimmjow and the android called out, "Witness?" In a firm voice.

Grimmjow pulled his attention off Aizen, where the man still lay motionless on the sidewalk. Blue eyes focused on the android, brows furrowing. He nodded a single motion.

The android matched it, then returned its attention to its creator. "Good night."

"Good night, Shiro." Ichigo watched as the life left strange, artificial gold eyes. The tenseness of Shiro's body drained, letting heavy metal settle with quiet squeals of friction from bent, damaged plating and gears.

Hope you enjoyed the story :)