Steps Chapter 5, a bleach fanfic

Ok, I updated! Really sorry for the long wait, but you know, end of the year, i hate SAT's and finals... all that stuff. I mean, what is the justice in a freshman taking a junior SAT? None.

I'll stop whining now, it's not your problem.

Now about this chapter. Another fairly lengthy one, but not too much. I'm terrible at fight scenes, so it came out like crap. Important chapter, though! Must read or you won't get next chapter at all.

Any spelling/grammar mistakes are purely your imagination. :

Disclaimer: Do not own.

Chapter 5

He was made to obey.

He lived to obey.

He died to obey.

He would disappear to obey.

He obeyed.

Green eyes betrayed his fear as they roved over Gin's expression, taking in every detail, the simple picture recalling nightmares from his memories. How naïve of him to think that Aizen would stop, that Aizen would simply let go. He was becoming everything he despised.

He nodded, expression mercifully empty. "I… will come." Swallowing, then, "Thank you for…" his voice trailed off almost delicately.

A slight straightening of the mouth from Gin. "Sorry."

"Tch." Grimmjow ran his hand through his hair, looking around in disgust. Little bastard could hide himself damn well when he wanted to. And it didn't help that there was so much crap reiatsu around that it was impossible to pick out any individual, let alone one who didn't want to be found.

Well, shit.

Grimmjow punched the wall, leaving a good-sized crater behind. He was an idiot. He was and idiot for believing- hoping- that the situation would work out. Maybe it was all those nights that he spent, planning, imagining how he would do it. And once he did, what he would do. Maybe it was just all that preparation, the over thinking process destroyed any real possibility of success.

Damn was he stupid to even chase after Ulquiorra.

If he could have loved a different arrancar, maybe it would have been easier. But no, he had to see the Espada that was simply the biggest bastard, and the hardest to get.

Now he just felt stupid for loving a bastard.

He counted the seconds.

One…

Fifteen…

Fifty…

A hand gripped his throat, pulling him closer in a desperate embrace, one centered around dominance and

Pain.

He must be desperate if his thoughts made this much sense. He opened and closed his fist, feeling the nails dig into the palm. It was his left hand, the one that had been cut off then regenerated. It didn't feel like his hand anymore. The more he thought about it, and the more he looked at it, the more he realized that his hand was gone, blown to smithereens by Tousen. This was artificial, created from nothing but whatever magic those girly hairpins had. Grimmjow swallowed. Now he wanted to cut his own arm off. What the hell was wrong with him today? Maybe he missed his arm.

Maybe it wasn't his arm he was missing. Maybe he was just missing someone. He reached a hand into the darkness, feeling for the soul he lost.

Again, again, again…

Shit, shit, shit…

Again, again…

Repeat.

Again.

It was so quiet. Quiet enough so that his breath seemed to chafe at the air around, tearing apart the spirit particles and coming back at him.

It suffocated him, this lack of warmth. Not that he had needed it before,

But this was…

But what? He didn't know what, really. He just wanted to feel again, to want, to feel that heat, the passion, the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Fucking head began to ache.

Sweat.

His hand slipped in sweat, the friction of skin on skin splashing the drops around them.

He felt cold, despite the erotic contact that was occurring between him and his master.

As hard nails ripped into him again, he thought about how any other arrancar would kill to be him right now.

Personally, he would just kill.

Again, again…

Wait, wait…

Wait, waiting, wait, watching, wait, watch, waiting, please.

Love.

Don't move.

Silence, keep the silence.

It works.

Helps.

I love…

Ulquiorra… I love…

There was a strangled gasp.

His head was wrenched back, a hand forcing between his lips and hooking under his teeth. Maybe his jaw broke…

His arms were twisted behind his back, bound by coils and coils of leather and metal. He could feel the buckles, some of them already loose from the frenzied movements, cold against his heated skin.

It was so cold.

Hips grinding against his, Aizen…

He was jerked over on his side, pushing his jaw along the stone floor. His shoulders protested sharply, but he didn't have time. A chain rattled, pressing against his cheek.

No time

Think.

Grimmjow, don't…

You.

Agony lanced up his body, pain upon pain and more agony.

Everything was blurry, far too bright, washed out. He was confused, the world was spinning

Around and falling,

He was falling.

Hair was pulled, his neck and shoulder dribbling blood.

Red arched through the air as he was thrown back again. It glimmered.

Pretty…

"Sexta?"

Whipping around, his eyes wide…

"Gin?"

A nod. Yes. So he wasn't seeing things. Or maybe he was, just seeing Gin nod.

No sense made.

"What?" Grimmjow's eyes narrowed.

Gin's fluttered open, piercing red laser-beaming Grimmjow like a cero. "What do you love the most?"

Grimmjow blinked. The first and expected reaction was whatthefuck, but he stopped just short of the sensation. He didn't have enough energy, enough essence, to be able to feel extreme confusion now. Gin's words oozed through his mind like tar, seeping into the cracks and filling the dark corners until it could no longer be ignored. His brain processed it laboriously, painfully slowly, and one by one, the syllables pieced themselves together to form the question he was supposed to answer. And then it hit him.

He didn't know.

"What is it that you need, you love? You care about?"

His mind was blank, as was his expression.

"I…"

"Love, Grimmjow, you need to love it."

"It's not… I…"

"You. Yes, you."

"… But-"

"If you really do."

"Love… I… need…"

"Love, it's love."

"Love…"

"You need to hear yourself say it."

"Ulquiorra…"

"Say it."

"I-I… love… Ulquiorra."

Another nod. "You love him." Gin said, his smirk was gone, a frown replacing the usual grin. It was rather foreboding.

Grimmjow raised his chin a little higher. "Yes."

"Would you help him?"

Blue eyes widened. "Yes…" he breathed softly.

Just…

Sprawled out on these steps…

Spitting out the blood, just spit it out

Screaming

Someone save us

Grimmjow ran.

Running wasn't that hard, usually, but panic was suffocating him, making easy tasks far more demanding. His breathing was hitching as he tried not to imagine what could have Gin so upset. It wasn't normal for the renegade shinigami to worry about anything.

He wished he could sonido faster. Fucking bore, watching the doors and corridors flash by as if they were nothing but a faint beam of light. It would've been easier if Ulquiorra were here, then they could just use a Garganta-

Wait. There was something wrong with Ulquiorra, that's why he wasn't here…

Wrong?! What the hell?! What- why didn't Gin specify anything, especially when it was important.

All Grimmjow could do was watch Gin's back as they wandered through the darkness that no white could ever brighten. Sad. Aizen's changes did not belong to Hueco Mundo, and never would have, not matter how well it seemed to work.

And then it clicked.

Sense of dread rising, Grimmjow cast out with his awareness and swiftly picked out Ulquiorra's reiatsu. The level was dangerously low, not the repressed kind of low, but the depleted kind of low. Every few moments, it would spike up then fade away again. there was something distinctly wrong with it. it felt… bad, sickly. He could almost taste the fear.

He checked a little more carefully and realized with a jolt whose reiatsu was smothering Ulquiorra's.

Aizen.

Aizen + Ulquiorra Holy fuck no way in hell shit, shit, shit.

Which Bad.

He ran faster.

Something in Ulquiorra's fuzzy mind registered the change, but the rest of him refused to accept it. There was a definite lack or reiatsu as Gin disappeared. He usually watched Aizen destroy his subordinates every time, and the absence was somewhat strange but unimportant enough to be ignored. And now Gin was back, and Ulquiorra's self consciousness was well aware of the shinigami's existence. But there was something else, something with Gin. Their reiatsu was enveloped in agitation and fear, one higher than the other. He didn't think about it for very long.

But he knew, somehow, that it was Grimmjow. And in his mind, the words that he favored only Grimmjow with formed.

Grimmjow, you're such a fool.

And then his eyes closed, hiding him from the world of pain and distortion that he was in now. Dimly, he heard Aizen making a series of sounds and noises that a proper god really shouldn't, and his respect for his lord lessened.

His fear for Grimmjow took its place.

"Shit!" Grimmjow swore, throwing himself furiously at the door. It was sealed shut, fortified by reiatsu: Aizen's and Tousen's. There was no way they would get in without expending much needed energy. He threw another cero, but it just dissipated on the hardened stone. He screamed in frustration. Looking back at Gin, his eyes widened as he saw the shinigami leaving, setting off down the hall purposefully.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Grimmjow shouted. His grip tightened on his zanpakuto.

Gin turned slightly so that Grimmjow could see a fraction of his face. "Getting help, fool."

Gritting his teeth, Grimmjow turned back to the resolutely closed door. Aizen must have heard him already, with all the noise he was making. So then Ulquiorra should have heard, too. Unless he was too…

Growling, he shook his head hard to get rid of the thoughts. Ulquiorra was fine, the emo prick had to be. Besides, they hadn't been in there long enough for Aizen to-

Shit. Glancing around, he tried to find anything, anywhere else where he could smash his way through. But this door was the only real way in, and his thoughts were confirmed as he ran along the walls, testing their strength.

Frustrated, he put a hand along Pantera. Drawing it fluidly along the length of the blade, he snarled, "Grind, Pantera."

A number of blue sparks burst into existence with the words, glowing softly in the light. The glare grew stronger and stronger, illuminating the hall with a blinding light as the energy and power flooded from the blade. Grimmjow closed his eyes, hoping beyond hope that this would be enough. The pressure was immense, building inside of him until it seemed to tear him apart. The only thing holding him together seemed to be the very destruction of his being.

The world exploded. An echoing boom sounded across the corridor, and thick smoke and dust filled the air. Grimmjow crouched, feeling his lithe muscles bunch powerfully with the movement. Scraping his claws fitfully across the ground, he felt the rock give way, leaving behind two-inch deep gouges in the floor.

Blue eyes snapped open and Grimmjow's coiled body sprang forward, long tail whipping through the air behind him. His now feline body snaked through the air as if it was nothing, and he raced with inhuman speed toward the door. With a crash, his fist collided with the barrier, and he felt his hand pushing through the reinforced rock. Grunting, he leapt back and tried again, this time leaving a bigger dent in the door.

Over and over again he repeated his ministrations, but the door stood firm with several deep dents and cracks to show for his efforts. Panting, he stepped back and knelt. It was no use. His released form emphasized speed and agility; his power remained at a mediocre level. The only reason his strikes affected the door at all was simply because of the speed put behind every punch.

He spat contemptuously. The reiatsu levels were spiking again inside the door, and Grimmjow didn't like it very much. He was still quite alone, but he could feel Gin's reiatsu approaching again. Finally, the bastard decided to some back. Rising, he turned toward Aizen's right hand as he appeared-

With that damn shinigami in tow. The shock of bright orange hair almost glowed in the dark. Grimmjow's nose wrinkled in disgust and he pointed, asking, "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Gin smiled deviously. "Help, of course." Turning to Ichigo, he said, "Alright, Kurosaki-kun. Let's see what you can do."

"What the hell is he going to do?!"

"Well-"

"GIN! WE. DON'T. HAVE. FUCKING. TIME!"

"Just move it, Grimmjow." Ichigo's voice was quiet, but both of them heard it. "I know what to do."

Doubtful, Grimmjow moved out of the way. Ichigo blinked, looking all the more confused but determined. Raising his hand to his face, he whipped out his Hollow mask. His knuckles whitened on Zangetsu, and he felt the agitation from both his companions. Grimly, he raised the sword.

Moments later, the door went in a huge explosion of Getsuga Tenshou and rubble.

All this for love.

Someone was screaming outside.

Ulquiorra's heart raced. Grimmjow was walking to his death by doing this, and he wasn't being very subtle about his intentions either. He had already lost the element of surprise, for Aizen had looked up at the first thud. Ulquiorra was allowed to stare for a moment before a hand closed in his long hair and jerked his head back. As he stared up into the eyes of his god, he found he respected Aizen a little less.

"I want to hear you say it, bitch." Aizen breathed, hot breath stirring his hair. "Who are you eternally loyal to?"

Ulquiorra's lips parted, and he gave the expected answer. "You…"

"Who are you going to die for?"

"…You…"

"What are you?"

"…"

His head was wrenched back farther, and he bit his lip to keep from gasping.

"Say it, Ulquiorra, and the pain will end." The voice was still so smooth, so cold.

"I… am… your slave, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra gritted out, his eyes still closed.

A smile. He knew the smirk was back on his master's face.

"Good."

"You're dead, fucker!" Grimmjow didn't wait for the debris to clear. He simply shot blindly into the room, screaming obscenities into the darkness with abandon. His fury poured out in waves and he quickly found Aizen against the wall. Ulquiorra was with him.

Just the sight of the two made his blood go beyond boiling. His blood had been boiling for a long time, but now it simply vaporized with the nuclear explosion that was his reaction. Ulquiorra was kneeling on the ground, his clothes hanging off his shoulders, wrists bound painfully tight with wide straps of leather and chained to the wall. He looked utterly defeated, his half-lidded eyes fixed on the ground, tangled hair partially obscuring his face. Blood seeped from cuts and scratches along his torso and trickled down from his lips. Aizen had him pressed against the wall, one hand restraining the Espada while the other toyed with the edge of Ulquiorra's hakama. As Ichigo and Gin followed, he turned to smirk at them, his eyes taunting and cold. They froze, and the condescending grin became a more impassive, as if they had come here by accident and would be leaving soon. With a slight tip of his head, he signaled Tousen to attack. Gin smiled brutally, welcoming his old ally with a drawn blade.

But all Grimmjow could see were the eyes, those icy brown eyes that betrayed no sense of remorse, no sense of emotions whatsoever. He hated condescending eyes.

He snapped. "DON'T YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID!" he launched himself at Aizen, tearing him away from Ulquiorra and swinging him around. His expression was nothing short of deranged, eyes wide with fangs bared. He threw the shinigami to the ground, watching with a small sense of satisfaction as Aizen rose again. The brown eyes turned sardonically back to his. Blue eyes widened with fury and his hand shot forward, gripping the other man's throat.

"GOD DAMNIT! I'LL DESTROY YOU, I'M GONNA RIP YOU APART AND TAKE THE PIECES AND HANG THEM FOR THE CROWS. I'LL-"

"Grimmjow."

The soft voice broke through the haze of anger and Grimmjow turned, blue eyes glaring.

"Get out of here, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra said, his eyes looking a little more melancholy than usual. "You will get yourself killed, and I won't be able to help you this time." He said it so calmly Grimmjow wasn't even sure he heard it right, or if he was sane enough to understand what was happening. Or if he cared.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Don't be a fool." Ulquiorra's voice rose, and a little of his terror for Grimmjow's life showed in his eyes. In spite of the situation, Grimmjow couldn't help but feel a small sense of arrogance.

"Stop it. I came here to help you, so just shut your face and-"

"Grimmjow, you must leave. You must understand that this will help neither you nor me! You will die, Grimmjow, and what kind of person would I be if I let that happen?" Ulquiorra was tugging at his restraints now, clearly agitated. "How could anyone say I loved you if I let that happen?!"

Grimmjow's eyes widened fractionally. "Wait-"

"Grimmjow! Run, get away from here or you will get yourself killed-"

"Because I give a fuck about that, Ulquiorra. Now concentrate your emo bastard self on getting out of there before-" his sentence was cut short as Aizen pulled away and sank a fist into his stomach. Grimmjow doubled over, gasping. Recovering quickly, he kicked out with his leg, catching Aizen on the hip and throwing him back long enough for Grimmjow to gain the advantage. Aizen didn't wait to die, but drew his sword and plunged it down at the Sexta Espada. Dark blood flew through the air as it grazed Grimmjow's shoulder.

Ulquiorra twisted and bucked his shoulders furiously, struggling to free himself. The chain tautened, then slackened again and the leather bindings snapped and creaked with the force being put upon them. There was no visible progress being made. He spun around and kicked hard at the wall surrounding the tether, but the metal still refused to give. For the first time in his life, he was confused, panicked, and he didn't relish the feeling. He could hear Grimmjow's raging cries and feel Aizen's smirk as they battled, triggering small explosions of energy with each blow they dealt. Tousen went flying by overhead, and Ulquiorra was forced to duck as Shinsou went shooting after him. He pulled a little harder, gritting his teeth as he strained against his bonds.

Suddenly, Ichigo was beside him. He barely blinked, but turned to face the shinigami as he raised Zangetsu.

"Just hold still, please hold still…" his hands trembled violently. "I- I'm trying to helping you…"

Ulquiorra stared impassively up at him from where he knelt. "Trash." He whispered.

Hazel eyes widened, but his expression seemed to relax, determination replacing that of anxiety. He slid his zanpakuto under the leather and attempted to saw it apart, but it refused to break.

"It was fortified by Aizen's reiatsu…" Ulquiorra's eyes were wide with impatience.

"I know." Ichigo gritted out as he swiped at it again. This time, there was an audible snap as the material broke, and Ulquiorra wasted no time in grabbing the collar around his neck and crushing it. Pulling the clinging shards of metal away. He leapt to his feet, whipping around to face Ichigo.

"You're done here, shinigami. This is a Hollow's fight." He said swiftly, straightening his clothes.

Ichigo shook his head. "I came here to help, I told you that already." Suddenly, he spun around, raising his blade in time to block a blow from Aizen. Ichigo's eyes narrowed. He had already seen this trick before.

But Aizen was not the least disturbed by the shinigami's determination. Instead, he increased the pressure on Zangetsu, forcing Ichigo to push back harder. The strain was evident on the boy's face as he gritted his teeth, a vein in his neck jumping. Aizen tilted his head to the side, laughing silently at the display of naivety.

Sliding out from under Zangetsu, he freed his sword and stepped to the side. Ichigo suddenly found his stance horribly unbalanced and he stumbled, still trying to stay on his feet. Aizen, with a look of supreme indifference, swung Kyouga Suigetsu down at the shinigami's head, aiming simply for the quickest, most humiliating kill.

His blade never reached his target. There was a sharp crack as Ulquiorra forced his way between Aizen and Ichigo, using his hand to once again block an attack. But as his skin came in contact with the metal, the sword cut in slightly, much to his surprise. A line of red appeared along his wrist and the bright blood trickled slowly down the pale arm. Ulquiorra's eyes flicked briefly to the source and disregarded it. Behind him, he could almost hear Ichigo building up for a protest.

"What are you-" He was never allowed to finish. Swinging his arm back, Ulquiorra struck the shinigami on the side of his head. The blow was not strong enough to kill, but it threw him a good fifty feet, effectively knocking him out.

"My apologies, shinigami." He said softly, "I cannot allow you to interfere."

And Aizen smiled, removing his sword from Ulquiorra's wrist. "Shouldn't you be more careful as to watch what is happening around you?" he admonished caustically.

"What… are you talking about?" Ulquiorra said, his eyes wary.

"If I'm here, then just what happened to your poor Grimmjow?"

Ulquiorra stared in horror, and his sharp, analytical mind processed exactly how the rest of the battle would play out before it happened. He whirled around, eyes searching out only one person, just one.

"Grimmjow!" he shouted desperately, "Grimmjow, get away-"

And just as he was about to move to help the other arrancar, an arm whipped out of the gloom and struck him in the throat. He coughed violently, the words catching in his throat. The blow flung him back and he hit the wall with a thud, still choking from the attack. Struggling to draw in breath, he looked up in time to see Aizen's leering face turn away and toward Grimmjow.

Blue eyes widened with shock as the Aizen he was currently struggling against disappeared, his claws scoring thin air.

"Wha-" he whipped around, staring at the one who had caused the illusion.

Aizen Sousuke smiled, the expression almost friendly if it had been under different circumstances. There was a flicker of movement, and the sword flashed through the darkness. Grimmjow couldn't move, only watch as Aizen's blade cut into him. He could only watch as his blood poured out in a steady wave. He could only watch as Aizen turned to finish him off. Shock had paralyzed him, and he did nothing as the zanpakuto descended upon him, flashing dully in the dim light. He saw the way the metal glinted, and in that moment, he realized something. He knew.

The pain was real.

All the energy he had left drained out of him. His legs buckled, and he dropped to his knees. Hot blood was washing over him slowly in sickening waves and he watched impassively as the pool of red around him grew larger with each second. His vision swam as his lungs stopped drawing in air. Then, all he could hear was the weakening throb of his heart as it struggled to keep him alive.

It hurt.

Aizen's smile widened as he watched Grimmjow fall with a small splash to the ground. Blood seeped across the floor, sinking into the cracks as it went. The air suddenly grew a lot more silent; the only sounds were Gin's gleeful giggles and Tousen's cries of frustration mingling with ringing metal. He moved to look at Ulquiorra-

A fist smashed into the side of his head, throwing him a good twenty feet. His expression barely changed, but the faint gasp was the only indication Ulquiorra needed that Aizen had been surprised. He launched himself forward, his foot catching Aizen's sword arm sharply, forcing him to loosen his grip on the zanpakuto. Any normal being would have had his arm broken. Ulquiorra shot out a hand and gripped the hand that was still closed around the hilt. His green eyes were dark with anger, but the rest of his face remained smooth and cold. Whipping his arm around, he threw Aizen across the chamber, at the same time wrenching the sword from his grip.

Advancing on the renegade shinigami, Ulquiorra threw the blade into a corner. He concentrated all his anger on the one he had once seen as God, on the one he had once respected. He stared down coldly, fury rolling off of him in bitter waves.

Aizen pushed himself into sitting position. "You've changed, my little arrancar. I had always imagined that you were eternally loyal to me, but I suppose my hopes were groundless."

Ulquiorra's dark mouth tightened. "Only the foolish believe in a god, Aizen."

There was a silence, and then Aizen laughed. The sound was chilling, echoing sightlessly around the stone walls. Aizen threw his head back and laughed, laughed, and it seemed the darkness laughed with him. It seemed the darkness laughed at the misery and grief of the world, at the fear and despair, at the hatred that encompassed everything in its iron grip. The world had truly broken, and Aizen laughed.

Ulquiorra remained impassive, staring down at his creator, but could not stop the faintest feeling of apprehension at the sound.

"This," Aizen gasped, "is why I love you, bitch." Another fit of laughter. Ulquiorra stared, uncomprehending.

"You really are disgusting." He said tonelessly.

"Disgusting doesn't quite fit, does it, Ulquiorra?" Aizen smiled. Slowly, he raised his eyes to apathetic green ones. "Tell me. Did you love him?"

Ulquiorra blinked. "I don't believe you deserve to hear that from me."

Aizen had stopped laughing. "I don't believe you deserve to love him after what you did to him."

Silence.

"Look around you, Ulquiorra!" Aizen gestured at Grimmjow's body, at Ichigo's still form, at Gin and Tousen still locked in combat. Blood everywhere. "Look at what happens whenever you come around! If you had loved him, Ulquiorra-"

"What would you know of love?"

"Plenty." Aizen smirked, "I think plenty more than you do."

"What?"

Aizen leaned back, smug look still in place. "Seriously. I made you my Cuatro, my favorite for a reason. You killed them! Everything you've done was wrong; you've failed, Ulquiorra."

Nothing but shock could find its way to Ulquiorra's features.

"You weren't strong enough in the end, were you? You weren't perceptive enough to stop it before it all happened. Failure. Something you've grown to hate. But now you've become exactly that which you despise. You have fallen."

Ulquiorra sucked in breath harshly, eyes widening. He clenched and unclenched his fists in his pockets, trembling slightly.

"Stay away from people, Ulquiorra. They hurt near you. Either that or they die. Grimmjow's dead." Aizen's eyes slid mockingly to the prone form on the floor. "Too bad. He was a good arrancar, but nobody takes anything from me while I'm still using it."

There was barely a pause between silences, but Ulquiorra cringed at every hard note in the words, sensing the truth behind the smile.

"I like to finish using my tools before I throw them away."

Suddenly, Aizen rose, the entire motion fluid and easy as if he hadn't just been thrown across a room like a rag doll. Reaching his hand out, he cupped Ulquiorra's cheek in his palm. There was a flinching in the green eyes as Ulquiorra shrank back, his shoulders jerking. The grip on his jaw tightened as he was pulled closer, closer, until space between them was nonexistent. Their lips brushed so briefly it almost couldn't have happened. And he did nothing to defend himself.

As Aizen stepped back, he noted the anger and humiliation burning in Ulquiorra's reptilian eyes. His expression softened as he ran a finger along the angular jaw and over the dark lips. All other sounds were extraneous, muffled sounds to balance the lack of words between them. And suddenly, the world didn't matter anymore. It was just this memory that replayed and recycled and repeated. And he did nothing to defend himself.

If you want to get out alive…

Brown eyes were mesmerizing, and he sank, drowning in the depths of those eyes. Aizen. Shinigami. God. Not god. The hand slipped down his neck and caressed the edges of his Hollow Hole, mockingly, teasing. And he once again did nothing to defend himself.

Pointless.

Then, Aizen drew away swiftly and walked away. He ignored Tousen; the former shinigami was already barely conscious, beaten back by Gin's continuous battering. The latter was exhausted as well, his breaths coming in sharp gasps as he dropped to his knees.

Ulquiorra paid no mind. His eyes were fixed on Grimmjow's motionless body. Slowly, haltingly, he drew closer to the blood soaked form. His footsteps made no sound as he dragged himself through the sticky pools of blood. The scent was strong in his mouth and he could feel it, gushing out over his tongue and over his teeth. The red washed over him, eating him, taking him in. His life and death engulfed him, and a sharp spike of pain lanced through his heart as he looked down upon the still form at his feet.

And then he dropped, falling to his knees beside Grimmjow. Blood was splattered over his clothes as he did so, but he couldn't see it. The darkness, the white walls, the mockery of hope; he couldn't see it. He just stared down at that which became what he vowed never to do. Love. With trembling hands, he lifted the body from the ground, cradling Grimmjow's head against his chest. His lungs suddenly seemed to stop working, and his breath hitched as it caught in his chest. His eyes blurred but he was unable to cry. The streaks running down his face had long since become a shadow of these emotions he had lost, testimony to a concept that didn't exist in his world anymore.

Blue eyes fluttered open, glazed and dulled. Ulquiorra watched as the gaze focused and moved agonizingly to him.

"Ulquiorra." Once again, it was not a question.

Ulquiorra bit his lip, remembering the last time he had heard his name spoken like this. Just a few days had passed, and yet, he could be finding Grimmjow lying in the sand again, torn to shreds and quite incapable of putting the words into a question.

"You are such a fool, Grimmjow." He murmured, pale hand brushing the blue hair from Grimmjow's eyes.

Grimmjow smiled, the first smile in his life that was not a deranged grin that always appeared in battle, nor the taunting smirk that he had on the rest of the time. He smiled because he was happy, truly glad that he could die here, and Ulquiorra's green eyes would be the last thing he'd see.

He smiled.

And Ulquiorra cried.

A:N

For reference, he didn't really cry. He can't cry, remember. So he... fake cried, I dunno. And Gin's relationship in all this crap will become clear, I promise.

Next chapter is the last! (I think. I'm not sure.) Well, I planned it to be the last. Thank you to all who read and reviewed, I really appreciate it.

Augh, and some of you reviewers have to write stories. I wanna read them...