Boy's Got Some Problems

The strike had come down faster than Starrk thought it would have.

Renji had tried to remove his arm from his body with the obnoxiously serrated blade he was carrying just as fast as he remembered what had been happening with the man in front of him and his captain.

"Wait!" Ichigo had shouted and now they were arguing hushedly amongst themselves.

Starrk needed to sonido away faster than his legs were willing to carry him. He nearly crashed into the broken wall that he was hiding behind, gripping his shoulder to ensure that the entirety of the thing was there. The cut on his hand had reopened yet again and he tried to calm his roiling guts as the blood snuck between his fingers leaping for the ground by his legs. He was sitting in the rubble of the building destroyed moments prior with just enough cognition to reign in his spiritual pressure. Behind him, he checked to see if any of his antagonists from before the current two were taking cover as well. There was only unsettled dust, a puddle, and heaps of crumbled foundation.

He could see in a break in the wall that Ichigo and Renji were in disagreement about something. Renji seemed irreconcilable, throwing his arm whenever the teen attempted to get ahold of him, gnashing his teeth when he spoke. The younger shinigami said something with a softer voice than before, catching the other's attention while the Primera prayed to keep himself from coughing or vomiting. His hand came to his mouth and he carelessly smeared the blood to cover his face when he took a breath. He could taste the iron covering his lips when they quivered and he bit down to keep them together.

The Squad Six Lieutenant was livid, calling for Starrk with a flash of power:

"Come out here!" He boomed. "Show us if you are enemy or friend!"

While mentally drowning, the man in hiding shook his head vigorously. He was not willing to spin a thicker web of lies. He envisioned Byakuya's hands leaving his own in finding the truth.

"Starrk!" Ichigo called, more curious than furious. "Show yourself!"

The Espada could feel tears stinging his bloodshot eyes. It didn't matter whether they came from his emotions or the dust, he would not let them fall before these two. Steadily, he raised himself in silence and crouched until he couldn't hold his breath anymore. The two redheads spoke to each other quietly, calmly waiting for Starrk to stop crawling and stand up. Within the pile of rubble there was really no room for him to move without making a big fuss and so he gathered himself before decidedly using his sonido to get out of the parking lot. Renji had felt the move and flash-stepped to where the man was. Or so he thought.

Starrk had slid behind a car the moment before Renji appeared and was still cowering there as the tattooed man looked around. He slashed through the air in frustration, throwing a cyclone of reiatsu that set a car alarm off on the other side of the street. Behind a black sedan, the foremost of Aizen's followers was desperately trying to keep the air in his lungs while Renji waited for him in the center of the road. Ichigo appeared in the next moment, farther than the lieutenant, standing on the side of the street opposite the silent, parked car. The Primera mimed a sigh of relief. Renji turned the other way and looked towards the corner opposite the one Starrk was planning on heading for. He could hear the redhead's mumbled threats as they boiled over and rolled off his tongue to no one in particular. In an obnoxious gesture to be silent, the still drunken Espada made his way along the row of parked cars, ghosting over the sidewalk in his black boots. At the same rate, the two Shinigami moved away from him, Renji sending cars onto their sides in a fit of rage.

Without looking back, The Primera turned the corner and broke into a full run. Sprinting in what he thought was the right direction, he passed a couple groups of wannabe-gangbangers lining the streets and inflating with concern when they saw him fly past. He nearly knocked a woman into the street and her date called after him with a slur of curses. Practically skipping, he moved past a soul that needed guidance and tripped over a dog looking for its next meal near a cluster of dumpsters. He passed the ramen shop that Grimmjow and him frequented on the nights that it was the Sexta's turn to cook dinner, making a quick left on what he recognized as the boulevard he took to get to school in the morning. Three rights, two lefts and almost a mile later, he burst through the front door of he and Grimmjow's temporary apartment building, unrelenting in his alarm until the elevator closed.

He leaned his sweating head back against the wall and waited without patience until the door reopened. Coughing, he entered the never-locked door the apartment finding it empty. The next breath that formed itself came with a gag and he held the remaining tequila in his stomach with great difficulty. Moving, to the kitchen sink, he thanked Grimmjow for washing the dishes and held onto the counter for dear life as the floor wobbled and his vision spun. Before he could think to react, Starrk was on the ground holding his stomach, closing his eyes and then reopening them with the instinct to stay on high alert.

"Shit." He moaned in a long drawn out growl.

A million questions flashed into the Espada's head at once. It was like whack-a-mole trying to push each of them out before his mind could come up with the answer; every time he moved from having to think about one, another came into being. The mess that he had created with Byakuya was starting to turn into Hydra in his head. Groaning, he got up from the floor then stumbled to the windows that lined one side of the apartment. Making sure not to pull them down, he pushed them completely closed and sank to the floor again.

"I have to stop making a habit of this." He slurred, referring to needing a moment to regain himself after each movement.

Laughing at himself for the ridiculousness of what he had gotten into, Starrk crawled to his bedroom, slapping repeatedly at the top of his dresser in the search for his forgotten phone. Knocking it onto the floor, he lie on his stomach before turning it over in his hand. At the top of the dimmed lock screen was the small telephone icon that signaled missed calls along with the number '15'. He touched it gently, watching as Grimmjow's name popped up repeatedly, sometimes interrupted by Byakuya's.

He stabbed at the phone in a frenzy to identify when the last time the shinigami called him had been then whirled his body to look at the clock atop the nightstand flanking his side of the bed. None of the calls were from the last six minutes, granting a breath he did not realize was held prisoner its freedom. Starrk let his head hit the floor, basking in the sensation of bile crawling up his esophagus.

"I will not call Byakuya when I am drunk." He slurred out loud. "I will not call Byakuya when I am drunk. I will not call Byakuya…when I am drunk."

It had been decided. He gave himself a small pat on the back to celebrate his drunken win over his heart but in the same moment searched through his short list of chat conversations until he found Grimmjow's name and hit the call button.

"For the love of God," He groaned and reached for nothing ahead of him.

The curtains to his bedroom were still open, letting the light from the small city that was Karakura town pour into his window and gently illuminate his worldly belongings. The phone rang three times uninterrupted, prompting a small whimper from the Primera Espada's mouth. He rolled over until his side hit the bed, waiting defeated for the automated voice to mock him. Groaning this time from the discomfort his stomach was giving him, he slammed his head on the floor before dialing again.

"Grimmjowwww…" He moaned rather helplessly.

There was no way that this was going to be able to be pushed under the rug. He could not think of what needed to happen next. Should he talk to Renji and Ichigo? Maybe pretending that the entire thing never happened was the best idea or he could act like he had no idea what they were talking about. Byakuya would never believe him over those two. And when the Captain Commander found out…

The automated woman on the other of the line came into his mind again. He pressed the screen to end the call and lay lifeless. Understanding that rolling around was not going to be much help in preventing Aizen from turning him into reishi, he removed himself from the floor without grace and crawled to the bathroom before trudging back into the bedroom to close the curtains. Now it was too dark so he had to feel his way to the light switch near the sink. The sight of the drain made him nauseous and he threw his head back to swallow the vomit creeping up his esophagus. Closing his eyes, Starrk splashed his face with water then looked at himself in the mirror swaying from left to right unevenly.

He sat on the toilet looking at the phone lying next to the foot of the bed. His vision swept from right to left, swirling around the bathroom as he sighed. The patterning on the chocolate tiles caught his attention and he lost himself in a memory of sitting on the grass with Byakuya. He felt a fool to be sitting on a toilet thinking of how his life was too messy but there was nothing to be done about that at the moment. His head shot up as he remembered what he came into the bathroom for.

In front of the mirror, he looked into his own eyes ferociously, clapping his hands together then pulling them apart. He took in a sharp breath and clearly stated the chant that would separate him from his mortal flesh before bringing his hands together a second time. His head spun, he lost his balance, stumbling back into the chocolate tiles, gripping the chair railing along the wall. The chant had nearly knocked him unconscious but it hadn't removed him from the gigai. Silently, he damned Szayel for not warning him of this side effect of alcohol then drew in a breath meant to calm him. He repeated the process again, this time falling unto his back while missing the edge of the tub with his head by only a couple of centimeters.

Groaning and hissing, Starrk twisted on the bathroom floor, curling the rug before the shower in his process hand knocking into the frosted glass door before opening his eyes. He lay on the ground, eyes half-lidded, half rolling as he tried to wrangle his frustration; it had grown to rival his drunkenness. There was no time to sleep off the effects of a bottle and a third of tequila. He stood to attempt the spell again with determination. This time louder, all the while looking at himself in the mirror. Maybe he was supposed to separate his hands instead of clapping them together.

Again, he ended on the floor and his head pounded with the beating it took against the tile. He hissed, turning to check for damage to the apartment and placed his still bleeding hand on the back on his head. No blood on the tile, but it took him a moment to remember that he had cut himself on the tequila glass. The force to his head caused him to gag, speedily reaching for the toilet and throwing his face into the bowl. He heaved dryly, spitting out more mucus than he would have liked to see. He sat back against the tub, wiping with his reddened hand at the tears that had fallen. Comparatively, this was the part of the Rom-Com where the most angsty song on the soundtrack played.

He wiped his nose, barely removing any of what was running out, sniffling pitifully. His training with Aizen and Barrigan had prepared him for none of this. Thousands of years of wisdom had given him the emotional maturity of Lizzie McGuire; the emotions lumped in his throat at the realization that he had no one to blame but himself.

On the far side of the apartment, he heard the door unlock. Seconds after, the phone buzzed in the other room. Lazily Starrk crawled for the umpteenth time that night and threw himself next to the phone. He could see before the screen turned bright that his face was smeared with his own blood, his eyes puffy, reddened, and nearly every orifice on his head was leaking.

"Shit," He mumbled, taking in a shaky breath and hitting the home button on the phone.

Grimmjow had texted him. The brightness burned his poor corneas and he blinked, letting a couple tears slide down to his ears before focusing on the text swirling in front of him. If his head was still, his vision swayed but if his head swayed, he swayed. He rolled onto his stomach very slowly, focusing on nothing as he turned and then brought the phone closer to his eyes. The door shut locking from the inside quietly. Starrk thought about putting the phone down as he heard footsteps enter the living room and move across the floor, but he was already staring at the phone, unconsciously reading the text.

did you call me?

The Primera snorted, replying with a quick tapping out of 'yeah'. Immediately the small, oscillating dots next to the image of Grimmjow sticking his tongue out while licking his thumb began dancing. The phone buzzed right after the text came through.

whats wrong

Groaning, the less than able-bodied man on the ground sloppily misspelled "come here" that auto-corrected to "china here". Grimmjow made his hotline bling right away.

where? ?

Buzz.

I'm w/ Orihime

He frowned, eyes narrowing and quickly wrote:

fish market NOW

Behind him, he heard the footsteps in the hall between he and Grimmjow's bedrooms. Calmly, still lying on the floor between the windows and the foot of the bed, he rearranged himself so that he was crouching with a clear view of the entrance to the bedroom. A shadow loomed, taller than Starrk before a second smaller one appeared. Quickly, sloppily, he moved backwards until he was standing in the dark up against the curtains silently wrapping a hand around the fabric.

"There's no one here." A small voice whispered, it sounded irritated and after a moment he spoke again. "No need to shush me, the apartment is empty."

A not so quiet thwack sounded off and the child made a pained sound.

"Next time, wait until we've cleared both bedrooms." A man said, calmly and a third shadow came clinging to what must have been the owner of the voice. "Since, you seem to be a psychic, why don't you tell me what's going to happen when you go in that room?"

The Primera could see in his wobbly vision, a very long arm being extended toward his own bedroom. Bringing his elbow forward, Starrk gripped the curtain tighter with his other arm. The shadows moved again prompting the Primera to throw his weight into his elbow and shatter the window while ripping the curtain from the rod and tossing the entire apparatus at the door to the bedroom. The Espada jumped and landed none-too gracefully on the awning three stories below. It began to shiver and separate from the building as he bounced around in the loosened fabric, freeing himself, and jumping onto the street, darting into the alley in a hurry.

There was a presence on his heels and he sprinted as fast as the 16 year-old body would carry him towards the back entrance to the apartment building, around a dumpster, through the side street, before turning the corner and taking the road that lead in the opposite direction of the high school.

If Renji and Ichigo were on his tail, who was the third shadow? No, only one of the figures was a man, the other two were way too small to be the other shinigami. For a split second Starrk imagined the teen as two dwarfs in a pair of hakama and shook his head, which effectively threw his balance, making him toss himself into a nearby pile of trash. He sighed, irritated by being with his own kind and struggled momentarily to stand before huffing, throwing himself back into the pile, practicing his breathing exercises, then continuing his jog.

Starrk couldn't begin to imagine how he was going to explain to Grimmjow what had happened in the bedroom when the Sexta laid eyes on it. He would question where they were going to sleep and throw his arms in exasperation. Then there was Aizen. What would he do when Aizen found out he had still been poking his nose around in the shinigamis' business?

"Oh, god," He moaned, stopping his run after he had put a larger distance between him and the apartment building than what was between him and the now empty fish market.

His hands went to his knees. Pushing the ideas of punishment that the leader of the dark world would reign down upon him set his stomach in another fit of upset. Starrk took a moment to regain hold of his gut before slowly making his way down the current street. His hand was over his stomach, his jaw turned up to the sky. The situation he was in was greatly echoed by the turmoil going on in his tummy. He held onto his midsection and his bottle of tequila until he turned the corner of the street where it read "Fresh Seafood Every Day!" in poorly written Kanji on a wooden sign. All the foot traffic that came through here each day but no one had the time to get a better damn sign.

Though the doors to the place were locked at this hour, a head of blazing blue hair was standing outside, with impatience marked in its features. Grimmjow's chest was heaving, his arms held up in a question of what the fuck took Starrk so long.

"'NOW' in all caps doesn't mean wait here for ten minutes." He sassed, throwing his weight onto his left leg.

"I don't know where Orihime lives. How was I supposed to know you would get here before me?" He was still holding his head up, looking down his nose at the surprisingly put together Sexta. "What? No nookie this time?"

He scoffed, kicking the ground and stuffing his hands into the black denim of his pockets, face turning the opposite shade of his shirt.

"No!" He snarled, sounding akin to an eight year old.

The Primera said nothing looking at the other then closing his eyes tight, still clutching his gut with his other hand on his forehead.

"I had to tell her that she wouldn't be seeing me around anymore." He frowned. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm drunk." He slurred unapologetically.

"What?" The Sexta stuck his neck out in disbelief.

The Primera brought his head and hand down in a moment of relief from his nausea, blinking in an uncoordinated manner. Grimmjow reached out to shove him, causing the taller man to sway uneasily.

"Okay, wow!" The blue-haired man said wide-eyed, tossing his hands up. "I was in the middle of serious business, you know!"

Across the street and down the block, there was a karaoke bar with patrons standing around outside, probably questioning what these two young men were doing in the dark alone. A car drove past them as three young, salary men waltzed to karaoke, reaching to loosen their missing weekly ties, remarking on the successes of their prior week.

"I broke the window in my bedroom." Starrk talked too quickly for his tongue, fumbling with his words. "And I almost got eaten by twelve hollows and Ichigo and Renji saw me shooting ceros."

"What?!"

"They saw me sonido, too."

"Starrk!"

"I ran away from them because Renji called you a freak."

"People like me take that as a compliment." Grimmjow said mostly to himself. "But, what were you doing with twelve hollows? Are you doing side work looking for new recruits? Because if you're getting some kinda bonus fo—"

"I'll be getting demoted before anything. Maybe even to female."

"Starrk." He scolded.

"Aizen is going to chop my dick off!" He shouted, too slowly for the Sexta's comfort.

Grimmjow grabbed ahold of the taller man's shoulders, gripping the leather firmly.

"Look at me. What did you drink?"

"Tequila." He whined, not pulling away. "Let's buy more."

The feline Espada shook his head, unwilling to accept the mess named 'Coyote Starrk' that had been thrust upon him. Starrk's eyes were about as synchronized as an elementary school play and he was steadying himself with the arms holding onto him rather than his own legs.

"You're not going to drink anymore tonight unless you're thinking about killing yourself." He pulled back letting the taller man stumbled forward into him. "Why did you call me out here?! What do you need?!"

The Primera was constantly trying to locate his balance. His chest pressed into Grimmjow's as the Sexta shoved him off without the help of his hands. Starrk put his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at him trying to look cool.

"I need you to help me out of my gigai."

"Oh, okay, here we go," He laughed, turning away and throwing his head back. "You want me to help you, after you ran out of the apartment earlier, not telling anybody where you were going so that you could go and get drunk?"

The Primera thought about the tone that was used but obediently nodded his head. Grimmjow's lips were drawn thin, so tight against his teeth they were turning white.

"When you put my afterlife and yours at risk because you got careless and let fucking Renji and fucking Ichigo find you."

He nodded again and a pained expression crept upon his face. The blue-haired man flared his nostrils, breathing exaggeratedly as he teetered on the question of whom his duty was to at this exact moment. His arms were folded and with an intake of air that swelled his chest, the Sexta pulled his fist back then thrust it into the other man's gut in one swift motion.

The Primera's eyes went wide and his gigai peeled from his ethereal body like shed skin sinking to the ground. The tequila that still occupied his stomach more than oozed out of his mouth onto the sidewalk around Grimmjow's converse. In the Sexta's eyes, there was shock at the reveal of the aged face he knew as his superior and he looked away in sudden embarrassment. The lines around the taller man's mouth and eyes made him appear more stressed about his situation with the shinigami than ever, giving Grimmjow a stab in his gut for poking fun at Starrk so many times.

He stood looking at his lifeless body on the ground, eyes rolling into the back of his empty head, black and leather resting with discomfort on the figure. He was back in his white uniform, looking down on his own, gloved hands with a lack of recognition.

"Now what?" Grimmjow frowned, folding his arms again, remaining in the puddle of tequila and bile.

The Espada's stony eyes gazed at his blazing, blue ones for a long moment before returning to the shell on the ground then measuring the distance between their position and the bar to be sure that no one had seen the suggested assault. He looked back to his temporary cousin, who shied away from his gaze a second time, the rapid seriousness of the Primera almost uncharacteristic at this point.

"Did Szayel have…extras?" Starrk asked cautiously.

"Aizen probably thought of that." Grimmjow said with narrowed eyes, questioning where this conversation was leading other than Las Noches. "What are we going to do with him?"

They both looked at the lifeless body; Starrk with pity, Grimmjow with contempt. The Sexta sighed, knowing that he would be the one who would have to carry the burden that was the Primera figuratively and literally. Bending but uncaring who heard him, he asked Starrk a question.

"Where are we going?"

He stood, looking alone, as a man piggybacking a friend who was accessorizing him with more than drool. When Grimmjow looked up at things, his eyes were twice as wide as usual, making them appear like huge, blue saucers and inspiring a melting sensation near the soft spot in the Primera's heart with his name on it. In that moment, with his emotions already roused, Starrk felt himself thankful for the other man.

"Starrk, what are we gonna do with…you?" He gestured to the lifeless body, pressing the issue for the third time.

"Let's take the gigai to the school."

He sighed, it didn't matter what happened after this anyway. Their covers had been blown; their charade was up, and so soon would be their afterlives. The other Espada shook his head.

"You don't need to leave any more of a mess than what's already here." Grimmjow looked at him with a plea in his eye. "Think of what Aizen will say when they find a dead husk and no trace of the other transfer student."

He was right, they would have to take the body with them back to Heuco Mundo. The thing would be rotten by the time the grounds keeper arrived to Karakura High on Monday. Without words, the pair of them moved into the alley teeming with stains of fish blood before the Primera tore a rift in the existing space and lead the way between worlds to Aizen's fortress.