Their path through Urahara's facility snaked down several winding hallways and secure elevators as Grimmjow limped after Ichigo. He'd only seen a fraction of the expansive underground hospital, but the place was still impressive. Though he'd been here for over a week, he hadn't had cause to venture beyond his room, the cafeteria, and the physical therapy gym. He was grateful for the change of pace yet nervous about their destination.

Ichigo had explained it to him: a neural uplink station where they could explore each other's memories with complete sense detail. He said it would only share what they chose to share, but it still made him uneasy to think about Ichigo getting inside his head. There were too many dark corners of his mind he was afraid to shine a light on. It felt egotistical of him, to be so concerned about himself when Ichigo was about to show him what must be one of his deepest traumas.

The redhead finally came to a stop in front of a large bay door and placed a forearm under a protruding ledge. A green rectangle of light beamed onto his wrist, defining a pattern of veins. Grimmjow recognized it as a vascular scanner, similar to one he'd used as an Espada. The machine beeped in approval, and the doors rolled open. Inside was a room filled with rows of server towers, several floor-to-ceiling display monitors, and a tangle of cables across the floor. Ichigo gently tugged the other man in by the wrist as the doors shut behind them.

He threw open a cabinet near the towers to retrieve two small boxes. Opening one, he tilted it toward Grimmjow for him to see. It looked like a small, mechanical bug. "They crawl in through your sinuses for direct access to the brain. Feels kinda gross, but it's quick." He closed the box again and waved the blue-haired man through a final door into a cavernous but empty room. The floor, ceiling, and walls were all slate gray, with strips of lights recessed into the surfaces. "It helps to have a clear space. Learned that the hard way when Urahara was still prototyping and I ate shit tripping on cables I didn't know were there."

"Ya helped him with the prototype? Known him a long time, then?"

"My entire life. He and my parents were friends even before I was born. He was a kid genius, used his early enhancement technology to save my mom's life when they were all still in high school. They never forgot that."

"Sounds like he's a pretty good guy." Grimmjow wondered why, then, the blonde made him so uneasy.

"I owe him everything. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. I wouldn't be able to protect what I care about." Ichigo handed one box to his companion. "Here." He lifted the lid on the one still in his hand. "Press this button here to wake it up." Doing as he explained, the box lit up and the bug popped out, twitching. "Then you just kinda—" He grabbed it by a spindly metal leg and held it next to his face. "Put it by your nose, and they'll know what to do."

Grimmjow watched with a grimace as the tiny machine jumped into Ichigo's upper lip and crawled inside his nostril. Ichigo's face scrunched up for a few seconds, then he stuck his tongue out and shuddered. "Yeah, wow, you make that look so pleasant, Ich. Can't wait."

"Oh, don't be such a baby. If you can handle losing your arm, you can handle this."

He looked down at the still limp reminder of the incident. He could feel it now, could tell when things were touching it, but the mobility wasn't there yet. The best he had managed was making a fist and wiggling his fingers. Tessai, who supervised his physical therapy, claimed his progress was on-track, but it wasn't reassuring. Grimmjow hated feeling vulnerable, but with a dead limb and a stiff knee, it was hard to feel anything but. "Whatever." He pressed the button and brought the box to his face, letting the bug jump out at him. An instinctive snarl escaped through bared teeth as the machine settled into his skull.

"See, that wasn't so hard," the redhead teased. He took both empty containers and placed them in his back pocket. "Let's start with an easier memory, just so you can get used to this, okay?"

"Okay…"

"How about the day we met? Since you have your own memories from that day, it should be a little easier for you to pick up."

The surrounding room began to shift, walls closing in, developing a bright, painted color. He noticed a banister and stairs to his right; they were on the second floor. Then he heard something hitting glass. A vague, translucent image of Ichigo stalked down the hallway, slamming open a door and entering the room. He looked to his left where the real Ichigo stood.

"The bugs tap into the neurons to create this sort of… virtual reality effect, developing 3D models from the spatial awareness stored in memories."

Grimmjow could see that through the doorway, Memory Ichigo was yelling out of a window, presumably down to where he and Rukia stood. He watched as the image shut the window and strode towards him, bringing a strange wave of irritation over him, along with a pit of anxious nausea. "Are those... your feelings?"

"Memory is directly tied to emotion." Ichigo waved to follow the memory down the stairs. "The stronger the emotion, the more clearly it can be remembered. "

They stepped outside, where much more defined versions of Rukia and Grimmjow stood. He mused that the simulated Ichigo must be vague because the memory only had a feeling of what he'd looked like, a side effect of rendering a first-person view in third-person.

"What is SO important that you had to interrupt me while I'm working?" Memory Ichigo bellowed.

"Ichigo…"

There was a sorrow in Rukia's eyes, Grimmjow could see now. A sudden panic gripped his chest, muscles screaming to brace for an oncoming blow. A strike to the gut. No… To the heart, an emotional wound. "You knew… I thought ya just realized it was bad news, but you knew exactly what we were gonna tell you."

"I didn't want her working there. I knew it would put her in danger." The real Ichigo tightened a fist at his side. "He wouldn't listen."

"It's your friend, Orihime. She's missing—taken, we think." It was strange, Grimmhow thought, to hear his voice come from someone else. He studied his memory counterpart.

"Taken by who?"

"Well, we were hoping you might know somethin' about that." He looked good. Almost too good. His hair was softer, his teeth sharper, his eyes brighter.

"What's this even got to do with you anyway, Mister 'Hueco Mundo Intelligence'? One missing person seems a little below your pay grade, no?"

"The name's Grimmjow." He was positive he didn't tailor his shirts that tightly. His muscles looked seconds away from causing a burst seam. "You're not wrong though, kid. They wouldn't have dragged me out just to find your friend." Is this how Ichigo saw him? He chuckled. No wonder the kid kept getting so flustered.

"Kid? I'm fucking 26!"

"What's so funny?" Ichigo snapped at the same time as his copy.

"I'm just enjoyin' the view into your mind."

His eyes shied away, scowling petulantly as a blush painted his ears.

"Sure, whatever, doesn't matter." The other Grimmjow waved his hand dismissively. "What's important is I've got two dead cops and your li'l friend Orihime has suspected ties to a wanted man."

"Is this… verbatim? Your memory's that good?"

"I've had a lot of practice training it. The one of my mom… it won't be quite like this."

"Wanted man...?" The atmosphere was angry now, the air sharp and tinted red. "Rukia, what the hell is this guy on about?" Who sold Orihime out, why didn't Urahara listen to him, when will Aizen be stopped? The questions flooded into Grimmjow's mind as they'd had to Ichigo.

"He's telling the were bringing her in for questioning, but…" Rukia shook her head. "She never made it to my office, and the men who were escorting her were killed."

"What'd you get her wrapped up in this time?" When the faint Ichigo spat this line, he saw a flash of Urahara's face over Rukia's shoulder. He hadn't really blamed her, Grimmjow understood, he'd just been overcome with the emotion.

"I had nothing to do with it! I got a tip line call that she was working for Kisuke Urahara. What else could I have done?"

"You could have just fucking ignored it, like she would have done for you!" The voice of the memory rang in his ears, much louder than it was said.

"You know I can't do that! I'd lose my job!"

"If your job put Orihime in danger, then maybe it was a shitty fucking job in the first place!" Urahara ghosted behind Rukia again.

"That is not fair, Ichigo." Tears had welled in her eyes. "You know perfectly well that I have been doing everything in my power to protect her. I am sorry that it wasn't enough, but you cannot put this only on me."

The air turned from sharp to cold, squeezing from his lungs and leaving him breathless. Guilt. "You're right. I'm sorry. What do we do now?"

"Now, you tell us what you know about Urahara so Intelligence can find him and rescue Orihime."

"You think he took her?"

"Who else could it have been?"

Ichigo's ghost held its tongue, making panicked eye contact with the fake Espada. The image winked, and Grimmjow felt a flutter in his chest. He laughed again at how easy it had been to excite Ichigo. "You know something, don'tcha—"

"Okay, that's enough." Ichigo cut off the memory, the plain walls and empty room returning.

Grimmjow grinned, running a tongue along his teeth. "We didn't get to the best part."

The redhead avoided his gaze. "What 'best part'?"

He pushed the memory through the neural link. The street in front of Kurosaki Clinic rematerialized, but their memory counterparts had moved. A ghostly copy of himself had the younger man trapped against his car. He grabbed Ichigo's chin and pointed his face toward the scene. "This." His image pressed in closer, and suddenly Ichigo pushed back with his own version of the events.

"If you really wanna see so bad," he whispered, "then here." He clung to the wrist in front of him.

With the scenery becoming fuzzy, Grimmjow felt a pressure from behind and hot, wet breath in his ear. "You got that?" He heard himself growl, guttural and low. The back of his neck tingled, and the sound of blood rushed his ears, drowning out the next words he'd spoken. He smirked. "Ya can't remember what I said."

"You were distracting me." There was something playful in Ichigo's eyes, something the older man was captivated by. Something he wanted to see more of.

"After all yer 'training'? What was so...?" Grimmjow knew the answer to his question before he finished asking when he felt something rub against his backside, hard and long. It can't have been what it felt like, or it wouldn't have surprised him. He barked a laugh when he realized. "My gun."

"What?" The confidence that was just displayed had gone, all timid embarrassment now.

"I put my thigh between your legs so ya didn't run. You felt my holster."

The redhead's cheeks flushed, and he tried to turn away, but Grimmjow maintained his grip. They linked eyes for a moment, then crushed their lips together, bruisingly urgent. Ichigo melted into the other man, weight falling heavy on the arm grasping his jaw, lips parting in hurried invitation. Grimmjow obliged, tongue crawling over teeth and palate. Ichigo sucked gently on the intruding appendage before pulling away, breath heavy and thick in the air.

"That is not what we came here for," he gasped.

"Sorry." A sharp grin said the opposite. "Didn't mean to cause another distraction." Grimmjow whispered the final word against Ichigo's ear and released his face, taking a step back. "You gonna be able to focus?"

"Yeah, just… gimme a minute." Ichigo turned away from him and closed his eyes for a moment before cracking one open, sneaking a sideways glance at Grimmjow. "Was that—do you—" He squeezed the rogue eye shut in embarrassment. "Are we gonna continue that at some point?"

"Yer the one who stopped."

"Is that a yes?"

"Obviously."

Ichigo's mouth ticked up in a smirk, apparently appeased enough to continue. He squared off his stance, arms crossed and chin tucked in. Like a ship anchoring during a storm. His chest rose and fell in even, measured beats. Grimmjow closed his eyes as well, focusing ultrasonic hearing until he could detect Ichigo's heart rate, listening to it steadily lowering. Both pairs of lashes fluttered open in sync. "Alright. I got it." He looked back to Grimmjow. "Are you sure you're ready? This is gonna hurt."

"I can handle myself just fine."

"If you say so."

The surrounding area darkened, rain falling from the sky. Grimmjow could feel it hit his skin and dampen his hair. The sky flashed bright, then thunder rumbled too fast, too close. They were in an open street running next to a canal. On the sidewalk was a ghostly Ichigo carrying a hefty paper bag and an umbrella. Next to him was a slight woman with flowing strawberry locks, two smaller plastic bags in tow.

"We'd gotten takeout for everyone on our way home from Urahara's. I used to visit after school to help with some of his weirder devices. Like this one."

The images of Ichigo and his mother exchanged sounds, feelings, laughter, but not words. A car drove by, all black and vague, displacing a wall of water toward the sidewalk. The memory of Ichigo sidestepped to block his mother from the splash when his eyes narrowed as he looked out at the water's edge. Grimmjow followed the line of sight, then he was rushed with the feeling of the ground falling out from under him. A young girl in a traditional dress stood on the banks, looking distraught. He recognized that illusion. "Grand Fisher." The girl jumped into the water, and the ghostly Ichigo foisted his cargo onto his mother, leaping over the rails.

"You know him?"

"Worked with 'im a few times before I made Sexta. Never liked this li'l schtick of his."

The image bounded down the grassy bank, but as he prepared to dive after the girl, a scream pierced the air from behind him. He whipped around, and Grimmjow then saw a hulking man cloaked in shadow, a woman tossed over his shoulder.

"How does he do it? I've watched it a million times, but I can't—" Ichigo's voice cracked.

"Black market mod. Lotta guys in Intelligence have 'em, but they're useful so SACs usually look the other way. His, he vibrates his larynx to make a high-pitched sound. Beyond normal hearin' range but still induces hallucinations. Real backhanded shit, if ya ask me."

"Stay back, Ichigo!" His mother cried. "Please, I don't want you to get hurt!"

"You know I can't do that, Mom. I won't let him take you."

Ichigo let out a pained gasp, and the gray walls faded back in. Grimmjow looked over to him to see the other man with a hand over his mouth, his eyes avoidant. He took a step towards him, and Ichigo flinched. Grimmjow put his functioning hand up in a placating gesture. He took another step forward to no resistance, so he closed the gap between them, wrapping his arm around Ichigo. The redhead buried his face into Grimmjow's shoulder as the man whispered shushes against his crown.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, muffled by fabric. "I thought I could do this."

"Ya don't hafta be sorry," Grimmjow breathed into orange locks. "I get it." He massaged small circles into Ichigo's back. "But eventually ya gotta forgive yourself, Ich. Ya gotta let go of the guilt. It'll eat you alive."

"That's a lot easier said than done."

"I know." He pulled back to look the other man in the eye. "I know. I'm still learning. But you gotta try, alright? And I'll keep tryin', too."

With hands fisted in Grimmjow's t-shirt, Ichigo looked up at him. He searched his face, studying, trying to find the words to the questions he was afraid to speak. All he could manage, he asked. "Who?"

"My partner. Used to be Tres Espada. Her name's Nel."

"Will you… show me?"

Every muscle in Grimmjow's body tensed at the thought of opening up, of being vulnerable, and to Ichigo of all people. He stared back at the man, returning the intense gaze he had just withstood. There was a sadness there, but also something else. He was afraid. Grimmjow hated that, hated that he must be the cause. He never wanted Ichigo to fear him, or anything else, again. He steeled himself and nodded his head. "Yeah. Yeah, I can show you."

Ichigo took his limp hand in both of his own. "Maybe Nel's still out there. Maybe I can help you, too."

Grimmjow snorted at that. He hadn't let anyone help him in a long time. Maybe, he thought, it was time for that to change.