Bright daylight shed into the recovery dormitory of Fourth Division. It was a little used building, reserved for patients under long-term care from physical injuries, and had few patients. Those there, however, got top of the line care. Most wounds – physical wounds – were from Eleventh Division training; reiatsu and spiritual damages, however, were treated with Kidou and reiryoku-rebuilding therapy.

But, some damages were a combination of those assaults, requiring longer therapy, and that was why Gin Ichimaru was still in the recovery dorm. It hadn't been too bad, he had to admit. His recuperation and following prolonged recovery period gave Soul Society a chance to redeem him.

They had to listen to his explanation, and when the chatter and accusations were done, he'd been cleared. No thanks to Soi Fon, he thought sourly, lying in his bed, eyes closed as the warm sun fell through the window on him. Soi Fon still held a bit of a grudge.

He still wasn't up to par – actually, far from any par – but he was slowly recovering. He had no duties, and his bouts with fits of recurring, debilitating reiatsu fluctuations had kept him in Fourth, and usually bed-bound.

The door opened to his small room and he looked there. He hoped it was Rangiku, he always hoped it was her, but he could tell by the shadow alone that it wasn't her. He closed his eyes again. Maybe if he played sleeping Unohana would go away and stop prodding him with pointy things.

"And how are you today, Gin?" Unohana asked as she entered the room. She gave him a smile as he opened his eyes a little. "You know Lieutenant Matsumoto plans to visit later. That should cheer you up."

"Oh, yeah, always does," he said. He sat up more, leaning to the wall behind his cot. "When do I get to bust outta here?"

Unohana gave him a knowing look as she sat beside his bed on the chair there. "Now, Gin, you were one of the strongest captains in the Gotei Thirteen. You're a mere shadow of yourself." She sorted through the bag she carried at her shoulder. "You still have fits of incoherence. We can't have you making a public spectacle of yourself in front of future division members."

He leaned back, watching her pull a pad and pen from her bag. "What's it matter what they think of me if I'm captain?"

She raised an eyebrow. "And if you're not captain?"

He frowned. "That ain't funny, Retsu."

"No, it's not, and you have to be up to standards before I give you a clean bill of health to pick up where you left off here before you turned traitor."

"Hey, I was cleared of that."

"I know. I voted for you." She settled the pad in front of her so he couldn't see the top sheet of paper. "Gin, you were not only under a lot of strain in your time away from Soul Society," she said kindly, "but you'd turned your back on everyone who trusted you. That kind of treasonous – apparently treasonous – behavior does things to the mind. It impairs your ability to function, to perform to your utmost –"

"There ain't nothing wrong with my performance," he said stoutly. "You can ask Rangiku about that."

"I most certainly will not," she said crisply. "One, that's not my business, and two," she added as he smiled slowly, "you're not supposed to be engaging in sexual activity here while convalescing."

This time his scowl came with a flush. "It helps me recover."

"And three," she said, "the shinigami mind is made up of compartments we must keep separated to perform our duties. Too much in any one compartment sometimes strains the walls, you may say, and the information and reasoning start to seep into each other."

"Don't go into illusions and perceptions again," he said dryly, shifting on the bed as he felt another tedious lecture coming on from her. "I've had enough of that."

"We all have." She looked down at her paper, the pen in her hand. "Now, you apparently deceived Soul Society with...?"

"Tousen. We've been through this."

"Humor me."

"Aw, we've done this a dozen times," he whined, sighing as she gave him a tolerant look. "My answers ain't gonna change."

"Well, then another dozen times should give us a good idea of your stability as a functioning member of Society." She watched him carefully. "Now, Aizen took you and Tousen with him. Did he want Lieutenant Kira to go with you, too?"

"'Course not."

"And Lieutenant Hinamori?"

"Nope."

"It was just the three of you?" She noted his hesitancy at answering.

"Yep."

"Are you certain, Gin?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

She sat straighter. "Not Captain Kurotsuchi?"

"'Course not."

"Sometimes we remember things wrong, Gin," she said, her voice dropping to a soothing low tone. "Do you have any periods of memory lapse?"

"No."

"Any moments when you think you recall memories incorrectly?"

Now he gave her a wry smile. "Only when you pump me full of those blue pills."

She didn't smile as much as she wanted to, instead keeping the soft, motherly smile on her lips. "Agitation only leads to early exhaustion. You don't want that, do you, Gin? You don't want to sleep through Lieutenant Matsumoto's visit today, do you?"

"Hell, no." He looked to the doorway, hoping for a shapely shadow to cross it. None did.

"The blue pills, as you call them, are to help lessen the taxing nature of your shinigami powers. They'll come back, in full, despite your reiryoku injuries. You'll be at full power, and then I can recommend you to captaincy again." She consulted her pad of paper. "Did you ever suspect Aizen of working with anyone else?"

"Yeah, lots of 'em."

She gave his somewhat goofy smile a shake of her head. "Not the Espada; anyone here, in Soul Society."

"I kinda thought maybe Urahara." He nodded, watching her steadily. "But he ain't 'xactly Soul Society."

"No, certainly not."

"And," he said, stretching his arms overhead until his white kimono sleeves slid down his elbows, "I thought he would have tried to sway a few others."

Unohana's eyes locked on his barely opened ones. "You did?"

He nodded, returning her stare.

"Why? Who did you suspect?"

"Suspect? Oh, not suspect anyone, but I thought he wanted to try to take Momo along. She was a compliant little thing, and she adored him. Thought he would want his little 'yes, Captain' girl along. But he didn't."

"Why would you think that?" Unohana breathed easier that he hadn't named her. Yet.

"Just watching Momo, watching Aizen. Watching people, you can tell a lot by what they don't say, what they don't do." He nodded. "You can."

"Very true, Gin."

He looked to the pad of paper hidden from him at her waist. Always Unohana had it during her questions, never did she share her findings. This time, he wanted a few answers. "So, what do you think? I can bust outta here soon?"

She smiled. "I think so. Your recuperation has taken some time, I know, but I think you're clearly getting stronger, with fewer set-backs."

"So," he said, pausing, trying on one of his less sneaky smiles, "can I see your answers?"

She smiled and turned the pad so he could see the page. It was blank.

"What?" The less-sneaky smile fell from Gin's face, leaving only bewilderment. "So...no questions? Retsu –"

"Like you said, Gin," she reminded, standing, "you can tell a lot by watching people. What they say, what they don't." She put the pad and pen in her bag. "I think your ability to compartmentalize – keep reality from illusion, you may say – is getting stronger. That's important for a captain. And, since you were exposed to Kyouka Suigetsu for so long, I need to know you don't remember any memories falsely."

He muttered something she didn't quite hear.

She set two large blue tablets beside his bed on the small stand by the pitcher of water and drinking glass. "You can take these after Lieutenant Matsumoto leaves – today – and not with saké."

He gave her a guilty grin. "Okay."

Unohana left the extended recovery dormitory after that, passing Rangiku as she did. They exchanged a few words, pleasantries, and then continued on their separate ways. Relief flooded Unohana as she went through her division.

She was always leery about her meetings with Gin. She wanted him to be on edge, too, to keep him within control. She had expected him to be killed during the War; when he appeared as a wounded hero, well, that presented a potential problem. She wasn't sure how much, if anything, Aizen had told his lieutenant. Nor was she certain how much Gin had figured out on his own.

She hadn't known Gin wasn't fully involved. She'd been fooled just like the rest of Soul Society by the silver-haired captain. Keeping Gin alternately drugged and low-powered in the reiatsu recovery department was risky, and she knew she couldn't do it for long.

She was becoming convinced that he knew nothing about her arrangement with Aizen. She wanted to be positive, beyond any doubt. She was almost there.

Loud voices rose from Division Four's outer gates and within moments, members from Fourth were hurrying to the wide opening to see what was causing the commotion. Unohana followed.

Down the center of the Seireitei mainway came shinigami troops from several divisions. They were a raucous bunch, mostly made up of Eleventh and Second Division. The voices were belligerent from cheers and jeers, a few laughing. Those from Second Division were a little more subdued.

"They've got a prisoner!" someone yelled from the perimeter of the gates as most of Fourth looked on. "It's the detail from Hueco Mundo!"

Unohana bristled at the words. She let herself be swept up with her division, nearing the open gates leading to the street.

It wasn't Sousuke Aizen. The prisoner wasn't Aizen.

In the midst of the hot, dusty thoroughfare was a hot, dusty prisoner of war, bleeding through the makeshift bandages and dirt of two realms. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was bound with his arms somewhat behind his back, reiatsu sealing cuffs awkwardly secured with his dismembered arm dangling from one cuff, the cuffs locked at the back of his waist. He was too weary and injured to be as angry as he wanted to be, but he sent anyone within sight a shriveling glare.

The shinigami around him kept him in line with Eleventh Division easily, still with a few swords drawn, just in case. He snapped at anyone who dared speak to him, but he knew the futility of picking a battle he could not win.

He spotted Unohana standing at the gate with her division as the pack of returning shinigami reached Fourth.

She watched him pass, her concerns now spiking at the thought of another survivor from Hueco Mundo in Soul Society. Her relief that Aizen had not been captured lessened as Grimmjow glared at her.

She couldn't tell what was in his face. She didn't even know if he knew who she was.

But then he grinned – that leering, insane grin that made his enemies see instantly the love of battle in the Espada. She kept on her most motherly smile.

Beside her, Hanataro looked up to her. "Captain Unohana, his arm is hanging from his handcuffs!"

"Yes, I see that," she told him, watching Grimmjow turn his head and go with the shinigami toward Second Division. "He's severely injured." She smiled at her officer. "I think he should have medical treatment before he's interrogated."

Hanataro watched the boisterous pack move down the street. "Can we fix that?"

Unohana recalled Hiyori's injuries. "I think so, if Jaegerjaquez's has the will to survive his considerable wounds." She nodded. "We can fix nearly anthing."