"What do you want, Grimm?" He groaned. Hospital food sucked. Needles sucked. Oxygen sucked. The television sucked. Hell, everything sucked! A week in this Kami-forsaken place and he was ready to tear his hair out. Of course, that wouldn't help. All that would do would be to put him in the psychiatric ward. They'd already tried after he regained consciousness and heard how long he'd gone untreated. For once, Goat Face had pulled through there.
Now though, the blue-haired former Arrancar that also happened to be his first real ex-boyfriend, was standing in the doorway of his room, looking like he'd been punched in the gut and strangely silent. He vaguely remembered that the man had been there for most of the past week, though a lot of that time had been spent sleeping.
Sighing, he tried another route. "You weren't here yesterday. Where'd you go?" He was still so very tired. The doctors told him it was the pneumonia; he wasn't so sure, but he didn't have the energy to maintain the kind of animosity he'd been holding onto since January.
"Funeral." Grimmjow said quietly. "She was a friend o' mine. One o' the crew. She, uh, died," He paused, "the day before ya collapsed."
The orangette nodded. "I'm sorry. Was she…?" He trailed off, trying not to imply anything but they both knew what he meant.
"Yeah. The first. Well, after you, o' course."
They fell into a somewhat awkward silence for a while. Ichigo staring at the blankets unsure what to say, and Grimmjow leaning against the doorframe like it was the only thing capable of keeping him on his feet.
"Y'know…"
"Look, Grimm…"
They spoke at the same time, turning to face each other. When their eyes met, the orangette looked away first, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. He picked at the blanket a little. So much he wanted to say, but how? Just looking at the former Espada made his heart clench and did things to his body that made him lose what little breath he had at the moment.
"Why don't you come take a seat?" He asked softly. There was a slight hesitation until he added, "You weren't bothered while I was sleeping. I could practically feel you staring then."
"S 'cause yer beautiful, Kitten."
A hand that had once been tanned reached out to touch his own on the blanket, and he let his eyes follow the sculpted arm up to the powerful jawline and chiseled features of his ex's face; all the way up to those endlessly blue eyes. His breath hitched. He opened his mouth but what came out was a body shaking cough that had him pulling his hand back to grab his ribs. The episodes weren't as long now that he'd been on IV antibiotics and oxygen for a week, but they were wet and sounded like he was trying to remove his lungs through his mouth. When he'd gotten his body back under control, he leaned back against the pillows that kept him propped up at an angle.
"Way to ruin the moment." He muttered, forgetting just how sensitive the Sexta's ears were. A glass of ice chips appeared in front of him, and once again he got lost in those eyes. "Thanks." He took the cup, half-smiling. He'd just focused on the ice when Grimmjow began to speak again.
"I was gonna say before…y'know they didn' mean anythin' right?"
"Yeah, but that's not the point—" The blunette cut him off.
"I know." He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck as those piercing amber eyes narrowed. "That is, I know that now." Silence descended on them again. "Look, I know yer not gonna jus' fergive and ferget. I gotta earn yer trust back, or at least, 'M gonna try m' hardest. Yer worth it, Kitten, and what I did…I know it ain't right."
Ichigo shook his head. "You think it's that easy? You come waltzing in here and lay down some kind of light bulb moment you've had and I'll just let you come back like nothing happened?" He took as deep a breath as he dared, and clenched his hands in the blanket. "I love you. I think I loved you even all the way back then, but I'm not some toy you can play with when you feel like it. This isn't Hueco Mundo where you can do what you like and forget the consequences. You asked us to teach you what it was like to be Human, to give you a life that you had never had before. Well this is part of it. Sometimes when you fuck up you can't just come back again."
"Kitten—"
"Don't call me that." His eyes flashed.
"Ichigo, " Grimmjow amended, "M tryin' here. What d'ya want me ta do? I gave up the drugs. I haven't been laid since you an' me split. What's it gonna take ta prove 'M loyal?" He was trying to keep his temper in check. His pride screamed that he was being ridiculous, but he needed the strawberry in front of him like he needed air and water.
"It's just not that simple." The orangette shook his head again, this time looking away.
Silence pervaded the room again, and the former Espada shifted uneasily in his seat, trying to come up with something to say. He'd meant to come and ask about what his Kitten's father had said, but he still didn't know how to ask about it. Just the way Isshin had said the sentence told the blunette that it was something important. He had just made a noise at the time, and then all of their attention was on Ichigo, making sure the baka got the medicine he needed to defeat the whatever-it-was that was hurting him. Unaware that he did it, the feline Visored let out a small growl of frustration; he still didn't understand human diseases.
Ichigo reacted to the growl, unaware of the Sexta's internal monologue. "Well, if it's such a frustration, why do you bother?" He glared, arms crossed over his chest.
"I didn' mean…that's not what…augh, Kitten!" Grimmjow growled again, knowing that he was digging himself in deeper. He frowned, trying to find the words, but the orangette beat him to it.
"Didn't mean what, Grimm? To lie to me? To cheat on me? To run around behind my back?" His scowl grew darker, "Or did you not mean that you want to re-earn my trust?"
"No! Gods! When did ya become so paranoid?!" The panther's patience was practically gone.
The orange-haired Visored waved his arms, "Oh, I don't know, about the same time that I stopped being able to tell where you went during the day! You always know where I am, but I can't sense you for shit!"
"Is that what this is about!? The fact that I still have reiatsu!? Kami, Kitten! I can't help that!" His cerulean eyes flashed as he jumped to his feet, leaning on the railing of the bed.
"I know! But that doesn't mean you can abuse it!" They were nose to nose with equally dark glares forcing them to stare into each other's eyes.
"How many times do I have ta say 'M sorry before it sinks inta yer thick head?!" Grimmjow growled.
Ichigo responded with, "Until you actually mean it!"
"AUGH!" The blunette spun away in frustration.
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, don't you dare wa—" A spasm in his chest told the younger man that he'd over-taxed his capacity for air again. He doubled over in the bed, and the former Espada flashed back to his side, a hand stroking down his back in a motion that he'd used multiple times over the course of the last week to help calm the violent coughing.
A nurse came rushing into the room, having heard their previous argument. She shot a glare at Grimmjow and pulled a sedative out of her pocket. Sending it into the IV brought relief in a few seconds. Once the orangette was stable, she rounded on the feline. "You need to leave. Kurosaki-san has had enough excitement for one day."
For a moment it seemed like the blunette was going to object, but he shifted his gaze from the angry nurse to Ichigo's exhausted frame and back again. He let out a breath, his shoulders slumping. "Fine. I'll…see ya 'round, Kitten." He couldn't look at the orangette at the moment.
The Sexta was almost out the door when the former Visored called, "Wait." They met eyes again when Grimmjow turned around, and still somewhat breathless, Ichigo asked, "How did she die? Your…friend, I mean?"
A spectrum of emotions crossed the feline's face, "Uh," He settled on confused frustration, "she had somethin' called Otto-mune Efficiency Disease, er somethin'. 'S got ev'rybody in the group up an' worried." He shook his head, scratching at the back of his neck with a scowl at the floor. "I don' understand it 'xactly, but they seemed ta be int'rested in whether I wore somethin' called a 'rain-' somethin' when I was with 'er."
"You mean Auto-Immune Deficiency?" Ichigo asked. He blinked a few times, mostly concentrating on his breathing.
"I dunno. It was somethin' like that." Grimmjow shrugged again. His eyes darted over to the nurse and back again, silently trying to tell the orangette why he was confused without freaking out the still irritated hospital staff member.
The former substitute Shinigami nodded, and rested his head against the pillows with a quiet sigh. He didn't want the Sexta to leave, but the man had to learn that sometimes he couldn't just apologize for what he'd done and everything would be fine again. So he closed his eyes to hide the pain and stilled his breathing to feign sleep.
Grimmjow stood there for a few more minutes, just watching the young man that had become the center of his universe. Just months ago, he hadn't even been aware he had a heart, and now it was no longer his own to command. Much to the disapproval of the nurse, the blunette crossed back to his strawberry's bedside. He leaned in and brushed the exposed temple with a kiss.
"I will win ya back, Kitten. I swear it. I love ya too much not ta." He pulled away and left the room finally, not seeing the small smile that tugged at Ichigo's lips.
About an hour after the Espada-turned-Visored left, the former Shinigami captain who also happened to be the orangette's father arrived. By then Ichigo really had fallen asleep again and it left Isshin to his thoughts in the mostly silent room. He sighed, Grimmjow's question in the car coming back to him. Why would the Arran—former Arrancar want or need to know about AIDS? Had he come up against it? The doctor scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed again, a little too loudly.
"Mm? Dad?" Ichigo cracked an eyelid.
An internal debate crossed Isshin's face. "Hey." He finally said softly. He opened his mouth but his son's scowl stopped him.
"If you ask me how I'm feeling I'm going to have the nurse throw you out the way she did with Grimm earlier."
"Ok, I won't." Dark eyes searched the room for something to focus on besides the young man's sunken cheeks and dark circles. Deciding on the blanket, he asked, "So, he was here huh? You two talk any?"
Ichigo snorted. "He tried to apologize again. He's not getting that the number of apologies doesn't matter."
"Well, you do have to be a little patient with him, Ichi. He's not used to all of this." The doctor traced the design on the blanket unconsciously. His son snorted again, and it drew his attention back to the orangette. "So, where was he yesterday if he was here today?"
"He said one of his friends had died. She had some disease. He called it Otto-mune or something." Ichigo shook his head.
The bottom of Isshin's stomach fell out. "Was she one of his…?" He trailed off, going cold as he anticipated Ichigo's nod. He sucked in a breath, a dangerous click crossing his thoughts. His son's lack of energy, near constant illness over the last three months, and Grimmjow's promiscuous behavior. His mouth dried up and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat without the benefit of saliva. If the orange-haired patient noticed he didn't say anything, but as they visited Isshin took stock of his son's appearance. He deliberately moved the topic of conversation away from the former Espada and his group of human friends, concentrating on what Yuzu had been doing for the week and how much Ichigo would adore her cooking once he got to come home.
The sun had set by the time their visit had worn Ichigo out again. He yawned widely, and Isshin smiled. "I'll let you get some sleep, and I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll bring Yuzu and Karin and we can have dinner together."
"Yeah." The orangette yawned, letting his exhaustion get the better of him, "I'd like that." He closed his eyes and his father almost believed him to be asleep again, but then he asked, "About Grimm's friend, do you think maybe what she had was catching? Could Grimm get sick from being with her?"
The former captain pursed his lips, and was quiet for a dangerous, long moment, "Yeah, I think maybe he could." The implied 'you too' hung in the air between them when Ichigo nodded and gripped his father's hand.
Isshin tried to fight the sigh that threatened him, and bent over, clutching his son's hand, to kiss him. "Sleep well, Little Berry. Your mom and I will pray that I'm wrong." He spoke quietly, and as soon as he knew the former Visored was truly asleep, he left for the night to arrange for the appropriate blood tests to be drawn the next morning. Oh Kami, how he prayed his gut was wrong.
A/N: Not much to say here. How are you guys liking this so far? It's hard for me to tell when there's no reviews, but I hope you all are enjoying it. Ja ne, minna!