Grimmjow awoke to a dimly lit room. His body felt heavy and his mind clouded. He blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision. As his surroundings came into focus, panic set in. He didn't recognize the place, couldn't remember how he got here or why he felt so awful. His eyes darted around, searching for understanding when—oh. His breath caught, air fleeing his lungs like he had been kicked in the chest.

Ichigo slumped in a chair in the corner, sleeping upright with his arms crossed and head tipped forward. Ichigo—he remembered hearing his voice in the car, remembered calling him in the alley, bleeding, pain, his arm, his arm. He tried to reach up to rip the blanket off his chest, but his body was still too dull, wasn't responding. He attempted to make a fist instead. Right hand… he could feel that, muscles contracting, tips of fingers meeting palm. Left hand… no, that wasn't right, didn't feel right. He couldn't tell if he was moving, couldn't find purchase with his fingers.

His eyes darted back to the redhead in the corner. "Ichigo…" His voice was hoarse. His throat felt dry. He tried again. "Hey Ichigo!"

Ichigo's head snapped up, his eyes suddenly wide open. "Grimmjow!" He clambered to his feet, at the bedside in an instant. "How are you feeling?"

"My arm…"

His eyebrows knit together. "You don't remember what happened?"

"Kinda. Details 're foggy."

The silence that followed was uncomfortably long. Ichigo stared at him, maybe even studied him, tension all over his face. After what felt like a lifetime, he took a steadying breath. "It wasn't with you in the alley. Synthetic was the best he could do."

"What? I don't feel…" Grimmjow trailed off, unsure how to explain the unfamiliar sensation.

"You won't feel it, not for a few days. The severed nerve endings have to—"

He was reeling now, felt the world fall away, like he was sinking to the bottom of an endless chasm with Ichigo at the mouth shouting down to him.

"—new connections with—fibers. The brain needs—adapt pathways—too. It'll take—physical therapy—full function."

His ears filled with the sound of rushing blood. He was vaguely aware of a hand on his shoulder shaking him, of the cacophony of screaming monitors, of another man whisking in to peer down from beyond the abyss. Warmth engulfed his body, then a taste in his mouth of something too clean, and he was gone again.

When he came to the second time, Grimmjow felt much more lucid. He noticed a small light in his periphery; Ichigo was still in the same chair in the corner, awake now. He sat with legs criss-crossed, laptop balanced on his thighs, fingers rapidly clacking at keys. Cute. "What'cha doin'?"

Ichigo jumped slightly, then looked over at him. The lines of worry on his face appeared deepened by the light of the screen. "Residency application essay." He gently closed the lid of his computer, setting it aside, and approached the bed. "You feeling better?" He asked tentatively, wearing a half-hearted smile.

"Your bedside manner sucks, kid. You look this worried in front of an actual patient, it'll scare the shit out of 'em."

Ichigo's smile turned genuine for the tiniest moment, then shifted to a scowl. "I'm not your doctor, dumbass, I can be however worried I want."

"Yeah, well, where is the bastard, then? I have some fuckin' questions."

A muscle tensed in the redhead's neck. "I was hoping you and I could talk first." His words were tight, measured.

"About what?"

"What happened to you, and why."

"Oh." Grimmjow looked away. Still don't trust me, Ichigo? His words rang in his ears, but he wouldn't repeat them.

"I just need to hear it, Grimm." Ichigo caught his jaw with lithe fingers, coaxing him into eye contact. "I just need to hear it, and I can tell you everything."

Blue eyes poured over brown ones, drinking them in, lost in them, until a machine beeped and startled him to his senses. He jerked his jaw free from the grasp. "I was given orders, and I disobeyed." He steeled his expression as the hand pulled away from his face. "It was the last straw. Sent the asshole who thinks he's gonna be the new Sexta to get rid'a me. He loaded me full'a bullets and tore my arm off. Then I called you."

"The guy who did this to you is your replacement?"

"Yeah, pro'lly some kinda sick initiation test, knowing the Director."

"What's his name?"

"Luppi…" He closed his eyes, scraping the edges of his mind. "Luppi Antenor, I think. Wouldn't be too worried about 'im though. They gotta augment him before he'll officially be made an Espada. It'll be a couple weeks before he's a threat."

Ichigo nodded but seemed far away, as if he was thinking more than he was listening. His lips were pressed thin, teeth grinding. Then he spoke the question he'd been holding back. "What were the orders?"

"I was told to stay away from you and your friends. I talked to Ishida anyway. They were watching."

His face pinched tight with confusion. "Why would they give you an order like that?"

Grimmjow shrugged, surprised when his shoulders responded. "I asked my partner to do background checks on all'a ya. He's usually the one you want doin' 'em, finds the real buried shit, y'know? But he didn't bring me any of that, didn't bring me anything at all. Just told me to leave you alone. Even mentioned you by name, and I didn't ask him about you."

Orange eyebrows disappeared under choppy bangs, atop brown eyes gone wide.

"Yeah, I wasn't a big fan of that one either." A growl caught in his throat. "I left ya out on purpose, and he knew it."

Ichigo sighed, pressing a middle finger and thumb into each temple. "Which one is he?"

Grimmjow didn't need to ask what he meant. "Cuatro."

"I'll let Yoruichi know."

"She how you got my file?" A quick nod came as a reply. "You gonna tell me about all that now?"

The redhead sighed again, louder this time, and dragged his hand down his face to rest at his collarbone. "You're not gonna pass out on me again, are you..." A smile tugged at his lips. "Old man?"

"Old man? I'll show you old ma—" Grimmjow tried to sit up in protest, but it was too much too soon. His head was pounding, and his shoulder was on fire. He fell back against the pillows, defeated. He huffed.

Ichigo eyed the monitors anxiously, but seemed appeased by whatever he saw. "Don't hurt yourself after all the work they did putting you back together, moron."

"'M fine," Grimmjow grumbled, not liking being clucked over. "And I'm not gonna pass out. Just want answers."

"Honestly, Grimm, I don't even know where to start."

"Well, ya obviously took me to your buddy Urahara's secret murder bunker, so how 'bout you start with him?"

"Murder bunker?!"

"No windows? Underground. Where else could you hide a facility like this for so long? C'mon, Ich, I lost my arm, not my brain."

"Bunker was not the word I was objecting to. And who the hell said you could give me a nickname?"

"Would ya rather I go back to 'kid'?" The glare he elicited from the younger man made Grimmjow smirk. "Besides, you started it with your li'l 'Grimm' shit."

"Not my fault your name is like a mile long," Ichigo muttered, almost pouting. He rubbed the back of his neck as his expression softened. "He's not a bad guy, Urahara. Weird, and a little crazy maybe, but not a murderer."

"Yeah, I'm sure the Visoreds would'a left him rave reviews if they didn't disappear."

"That wasn't his fault, what happened to them. Your boss did that."

"Aizen? He was just a regular Seireitei agent back when that shit went down."

"Yeah, but he had his eyes on power, even then. He thought enhancement was his ticket to it. He wanted to experiment with the AI system programmed to help with the surgeries. The Hougyoku, Urahara called it. Aizen broke in before the Visoreds were scheduled for their augmentations and used the Hougyoku on them himself. And then he let Urahara take the fall for it."

"So what happened to them, then?"

"Urahara did what he could to fix the damage Aizen did. They're kinda like you now with the way they're augmented. They're hiding out in a place of their own. Central 46 wanted them put down. Said it was the most 'humane' course of action."

"The government was gonna execute them? How the fuck is that humane?"

Ichigo shrugged. "They thought the Visoreds had been turned into monsters, like they weren't even human anymore. Urahara, Tessai, and Yoruichi got them out before they could follow through with it."

"Shit. That's heavy." As he tried to process the new information, Grimmjow's eyes settled on his body for the first time since his surgery. The blanket had been thrown off when he'd sat up, exposing his new arm. He could see sutures at his shoulder, but that was the only indication anything was amiss. He reached over to touch it. It was warm, hairy even. It was not what he'd been expecting. "Your friend Chad's work didn't look like this."

"His immune system keeps rejecting the artificial skin. Your skin is already entirely artificial. With a tissue sample, Urahara could derive enough for the surgery."

"That's pretty impressive."

"Oh, stoooop, you're making me blush!" A singsong voice drifted in from the doorway. It was the blonde man from the night of the attack, flapping a folding fan in mock embarrassment. Urahara, Grimmjow knew now. "You look better than the last time I saw you."

"I was kinda bleeding out."

"I was referring to your crash last night." In the meager light, his striped hat cast an eerie shadow on the man's face. "You must have been worse than I thought if you didn't notice me come in. I had to administer a sedative. Ichigo telling you about your limb reconstruction spiked your vitals, very dangerous after surgery." He tutted in disapproval.

"Should I be worried?"

"We acted quickly. You should make a full recovery."

There was something in his eyes that Grimmjow still couldn't bring himself to trust. "Can I ask ya somethin', doc?"

"It'd be best to save any questions about the reconstruction until you're more stable, just to be safe."

"It's actually about the case I was on." He felt Ichigo tense at his side.

Urahara brought the fan in front of his face, concealing everything except for those uncanny eyes. "You want to know about Orihime."

"Did she really work for you?"

"She was being trained, yes. She wanted to help Sado with his recovery, and when she saw the good we do here, asked to continue assisting me."

"And you had nothin' to do with her disappearance?"

"Grimmjow!" The redhead hissed.

"It's alright, Ichigo. I know how it must look."

"If she talked," the former Espada clarified, "it would'a meant trouble for you."

The doctor chuckled from behind the veil of his fan. "You're not wrong. But I trust Orihime enough to know she wouldn't give me away. She wants to help people. We help people. It's as simple as that."

"Who would'a taken her, then? Who else would'a known she was being escorted to the Seireitei?"

"The same man responsible for the tip. Aizen. How he found out she was working here, I don't know, but I believe he planted it to force her into a vulnerable position."

"That's a hell of a leap."

"It's not the first time he's targeted one of my assistants."

"And why'd he wanna do that?"

"He has a copy of my Hougyoku AI in his possession, but he needs help to fully utilize it, especially on himself."

"What happened to the last one he targeted? Must'a ended poorly if he still needed Orihime, no?"

"That's not my story to tell, Mr. Blue." Urahara snapped the fan shut, revealing a grin plastered to his face. It felt insincere. "I'm glad you're doing better, but I have other patients to tend to." The man slipped out of the room, the door falling shut behind him.

Hearing heavy breaths at his side, Grimmjow turned to Ichigo. The med student's face was deep crimson, a vein bulging in his forehead and his eyes fierce. "What. A. Fucking. Asshole." He paced the length of the bed. "Why do I have to explain it?" His complaints were snarled under his breath, yet not faintly enough to go unheard. "He doesn't have other patients. He didn't want anyone else here! He even sent Jinta and Ururu to Shinji."

"Ichigo?"

"He could've just said it. He knows how hard this is for me. Why is he being such a dick?"

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow's shout disrupted the redhead's furor, who stopped mid-stride, shoulders up like a startled animal. "If you don't wanna tell me, you don't hafta."

"No, it's—I don't—" He sputtered, anger evidently still clouding his thoughts. He breathed deep, face relaxing slightly. "Grimm, it's not that I don't want to, I just—"

"It's okay. It doesn't matter anymore. It's not like I can go back to work after what they did. I'm off the case."

"What? What about Orihime?"

"I don't have access to the department's resources anymore, and I should prolly lie low anyway 'cause they'll try to finish the job if they find out I'm alive. What am I s'posed to do?"

Ichigo collapsed into the chair in the corner. With an elbow on the armrest, he laid his head in his hand. "Fuck," he breathed.

"Ich... I'm really sorry..."

"Don't be. You're right. It's dangerous for you to be out there." He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "It was my mom. Urahara's previous assistant."

His mom? Grimmjow remembered reading something about her from the files he'd received from Rukia. A mugging, maybe. Whatever it was had resulted in her death, that much he was sure. "Is that how she…?" He didn't want to say it, afraid it'd upset Ichigo.

"Yeah."

As he looked at the man in the dim light and saw the sadness in his face, Grimmjow remembered something else from that report. Ichigo, only a teenager at the time, had witnessed her death. Aizen had killed a mother in front of her son. That's the kind of man Ichigo knew had his friend. Grimmjow couldn't just let that go. "I'll need your help to find Orihime."

Ichigo's eyes fluttered open. "What?"

"You'll hafta go out there to gather information for me. Report back here and I can put together the pieces."

"You still want to help?"

"You saved my life, Ich. And that bastard Aizen has it coming."

"Then I think I know where we could start…" He leaned forward, rubbing his jaw pensively. "You should see my memories of that night."

"The night Orihime disappeared?"

"The night my mom was murdered."