Shiro whimpered deep in his throat as he helped a stumbling Grimmjow enter the den.

He'd been so relieved when his mate arrived with the weapon he'd stolen. When the orange one had opened the cage, he'd thought they were both going to make it away. They should have been safe.

But life wasn't fair and a blind shot had taken his mate as they ran. Shiro had felt him stumble but they'd both been too busy running, so he hadn't realized how bad it was. When they'd both felt they were far enough away, Grimmjow had collapsed, panting, and Shiro had gotten a chance to examine the wound.

It was bad. A small hole in his lower back, the position told him that something had gone into his vitals. There was a matching hole in the front, so whatever it was had passed through, but Grimmjow had lost a lot of blood. And worse, it was an abdominal wound. Shiro knew from bitter experience that wound fever haunted injuries like that. He had no idea what caused the wound fever, although his great aunt had claimed that evil spirits were drawn to wounds and made them putrefy. She'd also claimed that fire could drive the spirits away, if it was applied to the wounded area. But that would not help him here. The wounded area was inside Grimmjow, more than outside. How could he apply fire within his gut?

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm strong, I'll be fine." Grimmjow gave him a grin but Shiro could only shake his head. "Shit, you made it last time! Stop looking at me like that."

"The arrow didn't go through me!" He snapped back then bit his lip as Grimmjow looked away. His mate was trying to keep up a brave front, but he knew how bad it was. "I'm sorry. Here, have something to drink." Shiro fetched a carved wooden bowl, filling it with water from a carved stone urn. Grimmjow had made it last winter, when they were both bored and tired of the cold rains. It was soft stone, and he'd made it by rubbing the stone until it flaked. Shiro paused for a moment, looking at the upraised carvings he'd managed to work into the surface. Would he never make another one?

Swallowing the painful thought, Shiro brought him the bowl of water. Grimmjow drank some then used the rest on the front of his wound, cleaning it as best he could. Shiro fetched more than had him lie on his stomach so he could clean the back. But depending on what had been pierced inside, all their care might not matter. That night Shiro curled tightly around Grimmjow, but he couldn't sleep.

He'd suffered too much loss in his life. He knew he could lose his mate, too.


Shiro sniffed quietly as he took the urn to the river.

It was not a short trip. The river formed a natural boundary between their territory and the Green one's. It wasn't particularly deep but it was fast moving. Shiro had swam it, once, although that had not been voluntarily. And he'd done it with an arrow in his gut, which had been impressive but something he never, ever wanted to do again. If Grimmjow hadn't come to his rescue he would certainly have died.

Kneeling down on the river bank, Shiro took a deep drink of the cool, crisp water before refilling the urn. Grimmjow would need it and probably more besides. Then he set the urn aside and pulled out a leather bag he had tied to his clothing.

Normally, he and Grimmjow were largely carnivorous. Meat was a better food for them, especially the fattiest bits like the brain and tongue. They fished, either with hooks and lines made of sinew or just with their hands. But they could and did eat vegetables and fruits. In fact, when Shiro had lived in the rainforest fruit had been a dietary staple. Now it was rare and seasonal, but edible vegetables could still be found.

He knew that wild tubers often grew on the banks of the river and some searching yielded up a double handful. Some of them were the mild sort that required cooking in damp leaves, stuffed into the coals of the fire. The others were a variety that could be eaten raw but were pungent enough to make his eyes water. Shiro stuffed them away in his bag before going back to the urn, lifting it up and carrying it back to the den.

When he got back to his home, Shiro got a very unpleasant surprise. He was constantly alert, so he instantly noticed the unfamiliar tracks leading into the den. Lips lifting in a silent snarl, he carefully set down the urn and dropped the bag of tubers beside it. The scent hit him as he stepped into the den and his silent snarl turned audible as he saw the form bending over his mate. There was a startled movement, a head lifting up just before Shiro pounced.

There was a scream and Shiro was on top of the stranger, his claws firmly against his throat. Wide brown eyes stared up into black and gold and in that moment, Shiro almost killed him. His rage at the people who had injured his mate made him snarl, baring his sharp white fangs.

But the sight of orange hair, spiky and short, stayed his hand. Most of the strangers he'd seen had boring mud colors for hair, nothing like his people had, but this one was different. This was the one Grimmjow had stolen from, the one who had dared to walk out with his mate pointing a weapon at him. The one who had freed him from the cage. Despair suddenly washed over him and Shiro's snarl tapered off into an odd little whimper. What would killing this one accomplish? Grimmjow would still be dying. So instead of opening his throat, Shiro shoved him away before going to his mate's side. He was sleeping or unconscious and Shiro gently checked him for further injuries, feeling the too hot skin beneath his palms. Grimmjow didn't stir and Shiro let out a soft, lilting sound of grief.

He didn't think his mate would wake up again.


Ichigo stayed frozen on the floor for a moment, ignoring Urahara's urgent messages through his earbug.

The white alien was bending over his friend, clearly checking to make sure that he hadn't hurt him. Ichigo swallowed as he heard a soft, poignant sound from the white one. He'd been cautioned many times in class about humanizing extraterrestrials but he was still absolutely certain that that sound was grief.

Ichigo, get out of there! He blinked as he realized Urahara was having a mini-panic attack. Then he scowled.

"Calm down. He could have killed me but he didn't." Ichigo muttered before pushing himself to his feet. The alien ignored him so he slowly, carefully walked towards the entrance to the cave, keeping his eye on the creature. It was a relief when he got outside, but his eye immediately fell on a stone jar that had been placed close to the entrance. Kneeling down, Ichigo saw it was full of water. Tilting it slightly, he let the video camera get a good view of the roughly carved surface. Not sentient my ass. He thought but didn't say. The carvings would say it for him.

Ichigo, what are you doing? Ichigo? Urahara said as he picked up the urn, grunting at the weight. The creature had to be immensely strong to carry this thing. Ichigo, return immediately!

"I am the xenosociologist on this expedition and I'll return when I'm ready." Ichigo said mulishly. He knew it was a bit foolish – Urahara was older and far more advanced in his career – but he was tired of people not taking him seriously. And he was the xenosociologist, so he technically had the right to take over the study of any intelligent life. Carrying the urn, he went back into the cave. The white creature looked up suspiciously, black and gold eyes wary. But then he saw the jar and tipped his head in an odd, almost birdlike gesture. Ichigo brought it to his side, conscious of the alien watching him carefully. When he set the jar down the alien scooped out a handful of water, dribbling it over the fallen one's face. "Urahara, do we have any antibiotics that will work on native lifeforms?" He'd only started examining the blue one when the white one had interrupted, but he was pretty sure he knew what was wrong.

We have a few, but they're still experimental. He might have an allergic reaction. Urahara sounded worried, although Ichigo doubted it was really concern for the alien. Ichigo, we're not supposed to interfere with other sentient species like this.

"We're not supposed to shoot them, either." Ichigo said crabbily, although he was slightly pleased that Urahara had used the word 'sentient'. "Soifon, can one of your men please bring me the antibiotics we have that would work on him and a medical kit?"

Yes. It may take some time for him to arrive, and it might be wise for you to meet him outside. She cautioned and Ichigo nodded. The white creature might have allowed him in the den but he wasn't sure how he would react to someone else. Frankly, he was surprised the alien hadn't killed him.

He went to wait outside, the white alien watching him warily. Those eyes were the strangest things he'd ever seen, and Ichigo wondered what had made his sclera black. He remembered that the blue one's eyes hadn't been like that at all.

Soifon's soldier, a young woman, soon arrived with the medical kit and antibiotics. He thanked her quietly and she gave him a small smile before leaving. Ichigo was glad that he didn't have to convince her to go. The situation was too delicate to risk introducing anyone new. He wasn't going to admit it to Urahara but he was quite concerned about his own safety. How would the white creature react when he had to stick his friend with needles?

Squaring his shoulders, Ichigo returned to the cave. Black and gold eyes immediately fixed on him and Ichigo saw that the white alien had moved. Now, he was sitting with the blue one's head in his lap, running his fingers through the heavy strands. To his vague surprise, he saw the claws he'd used earlier were fully retractable. Filing that oddity away for later, Ichigo knelt beside the blue alien and opened the little bag with the antibiotics. Swallowing, he hoped they wouldn't provoke a violent allergic reaction. If they did, he was sure the white one would kill him.

"I'm trying to help him." He said reassuringly to the alien, although he knew the other sentient wouldn't understand. But hopefully the tone would get through. "Urahara? Should I go for intramuscular or for a vein?"

Intramuscular. I don't think trying to find a vein would be a good idea with that other one staring at you. Urahara sounded quite nervous, probably at the thought of what he'd have to write on his report if Ichigo got killed. The redhead nodded and decided to inject the alien in his thigh. That would have to be good enough for now.

There was a soft protesting sound from the white alien, but nothing more as he stuck in the needle and hit the plunger. Ichigo did know how to give injections, so he wasn't worried about his own competence. With that done he checked his medical kit and found some disinfectant. Biting his lip at the smell, he began cleaning off the wound. Then he glanced up as the white alien made a sound that sounded very much like speech.

I think he just said something. They have a spoken language? Ichigo ignored that, looking at the white alien questioningly. The creature hesitated before gripping the blue one's shoulders and making a motion as if he was going to turn him over.

"Oh, I see." Ichigo understood then. There was a wound in his back, too. "One moment." He quickly finished the cleaning and put a gauze bandage over the wound. Then they flipped the blue alien onto his stomach and Ichigo nodded as he saw the second wound. It was actually a good thing. Most bullets did their damage by expanding inside soft tissue, but someone had likely been using an armor piercing round. There would still be quite a bit of damage but it was less than it could have been. He cleaned out the second wound before bandaging that as well, and together they flipped the blue alien back onto his back.

The next few days, Ichigo stayed in the cave. Something about him had inclined the white alien to accept him, and he took advantage of that, doing what he could to treat his companion. The fever soared and he got ice packs from the expedition, using them to help lower his temperature. The blue alien didn't wake up and they couldn't get him to drink, so with a lot of instruction over the radio Ichigo set up an IV drip. Convincing the white alien to let him took more effort than the medical work. He gave the man daily injections and while the antibiotics seemed to help, he wasn't sure it would be enough. The white alien continued to gather food, mostly edible plants. He even offered some to Ichigo who politely declined them. He was getting supplied with MRE's and wasn't going to take chances with alien biochemistry.

On the fourth day Ichigo woke to a soft, rumbling voice and the lilting tones of the white alien. Pulling himself out of his sleeping bag he saw that the blue alien was awake and speaking. A triumphant smile crossed his face. Then the blue alien looked at him and Ichigo's breath caught in his throat as he gazed into brilliant blue eyes.

Unlike the white alien, who had always looked at him with wariness and suspicion, the blue one's eyes were still full of lively curiosity. He tried to push himself up which made the white alien emit an ear piercing screech. Ichigo winced and saw the blue alien doing the same, his ears folding flat to his skull. The white alien tried to push him down but the blue wasn't having any of it. Ichigo could see a fight brewing and spoke hastily.

"I'll come over there." He could tell the blue alien wanted to get to him. Pushing himself to his feet, he quickly went to the alien's side, sitting down cross legged beside him. "Ichigo." He said, pressing a hand to his chest. He hadn't really tried to introduce himself before, mostly because of how preoccupied the white alien had been with his friend. This seemed like the ideal moment.

Both the aliens stared at him for a moment, laying their ears back, and he wondered if he'd just done something wrong. They spoke back and forth to each other for a moment, having some kind of discussion. Ichigo just waited until the blue one put a hand on his chest and gave him that familiar, toothy grin.

"Grimmjow." He said and Ichigo repeated it with a smile. Then they both looked at the white alien who huffed and finally put a hand against his chest.

"Shiro." He said shortly and Ichigo repeated that, too. That made the blue alien grin wider, if it was possible.

"Ichigo." The purring way the blue alien uttered his name made him blush slightly, then shake his head. He had to be careful not to humanize these creatures too much. But if a human had said his name like that, he'd have thought they were flirting with him. Putting that silly thought out of mind, he began disconnecting the IV and checking over the wound. It was still ugly but the infection was clearly dying away. He would have to give the alien regular injections for a while, though, to insure that it didn't come back.

Ichigo was so absorbed in what he was doing that he failed to notice fascinated blue eyes following him, or the scowl on Shiro's face.


"He gave us his name." Shiro muttered into Grimmjow's hair, watching the stranger… Ichigo… with growing dislike. Grimmjow shrugged slightly, a tiny movement.

"Maybe it's different for him." He pointed out and Shiro's scowl deepened. The common belief was that giving someone your name gave them power over you, so most of their people would never give it on a first meeting. Having someone else offer it immediately created an uncomfortable situation. But his trusting and slightly stupid mate had just given his name back without a second thought.

"Stop looking at him like that. I don' like it." He growled, seeing the way Grimmjow's eyes were following Ichigo. There was a rough chuckle and Shiro yelped as a big hand gripped his hair, yanking him close.

"You're jealous. That's sweet." Grimmjow purred, making a light blush cross Shiro's cheeks. "And now you're blushing. You look so pretty like that." His purr turned into a soft, sultry growl and Shiro yelped again as his hair was yanked, baring his throat so sharp teeth could delicately nibble the soft skin. Shiro was about to turn the tables on his mate before he remembered the wound.

"Ya bastard! I can't give you what you deserve – augh, stop!" He whined as Grimmjow took shameless advantage of the situation, giving him playful love nips and sharper bites. "Gonna kill you!" He threatened and the hand in his hair finally loosened, letting him go. Shiro pulled back with a huff, seeing Grimmjow's wicked grin. "I should slap that look right off your face." He said grumpily before glancing at Orange… Ichigo. The stranger was watching them, wide-eyed. "And what're you lookin' at?" He said with a snarl and was pleased as Ichigo swallowed and moved away from him.

"Stop that." Grimmjow sounded irritated, now, and Shiro glanced at him to see he was scowling. "Stop being so jealous. I wouldn't mate him without you, anyway." He said and Shiro blinked. Mating together with a third? He'd never even considered that possibility. Of course, he wasn't even sure if the stranger had the same sort of sex they did. That thought reassured him slightly and he relaxed before giving Grimmjow a sneer.

"Doubt he'd want to mate with your ugly ass." He said and Grimmjow laid back his ears, looking hurt. Shiro went to the fire, digging out one of the tubers he'd put there. They would be nice and cooked now. "You hungry?"

"Starving!" He exclaimed and Shiro grinned, carefully splitting the tuber open to reveal the soft, gently steaming interior. Then he began to feed it to his mate, using his claws to avoid burning himself on the hot food. "Hey, I can feed myself you know." Grimmjow complained and Shiro's grin widened.

"But what if I want t'feed ya?" He said teasingly before giving Grimmjow another bit of the hot tuber. His mate gave him an annoyed look before submitting, nipping the food off the end of his claws before running his tongue over the sharp talons, catching the crumbs clinging there. "Oi, careful!"

"They ain't that sharp." He said and Shiro growled, although he was right. His claws were not nearly as sharp as the blade of an obsidian knife, but they didn't need to be. They both glanced up as Ichigo left the den. "Wonder if he'll be back?" Grimmjow sounded a little disappointed and Shiro sighed to himself. He could tell his mate was taken with the stranger even if Grimmjow didn't realize it yet.

"Just shut up and eat. I need to go hunt us down some meat." He was beginning to feel starved for it. But he hadn't wanted to leave Grimmjow's side and in the summer the tubers were plentiful. Grimmjow nodded, taking another mouthful from his claws. Shiro was sure his mate could use some meat, too, but that would be for later. After several days with no food the tubers would be easy on his stomach.

They could worry about meat some other time.