Beta'ed by the awesome Kaaos.

Summary: The colors of their uniforms aren't the only thing that separate Grimmjow and Ichigo. The fact that they are inherent enemies, bred to hate each other, does as well. North and South, vampire and werewolf, they were never meant to be. And yet, they were.

Warnings: Historical AU (American Civil War), yaoi, lemon, language, violence. Also, Federal = North and Confederate = South. Will be three or more chapters.

Borderlines

A Grimmjow/Ichigo AU short story

Written for wolfsparadise

The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war.

Atlanta, Georgia

June 15th, 1865

The blazing summer sun was almost unbearable that day, which was surely the hottest of the year so far, and Ichigo Kurosaki was sweating bullets under his linen shirt, the fabric sticking to his bronzed skin. He barely even felt the heat, strange as that may seem, because instead of the sun, he burned from the inside with determination. He could feel that today would be the day that he finally found him.

A small smile stretching his lips and fanning himself with his straw hat, he wiped the moisture along his brow as he walked alongside the paved road. Horses and carriages passed by him, most of them carrying supplies and Federal soldiers stationed in the city to help with the rebuilding. It had been only about seven months since the very same forces those soldiers originated from had almost burned the city to the ground, sparing only its churches and hospitals at the desperate plea from a holy man. Ichigo was glad he hadn't been there to witness that; he wouldn't have been able to set fire to someone's home even under threat of death, but he understood why the others had done so, why they thought it had to have been done.

At that time, November of last year, he had been positioned on the Virginia border; the place where time and time again North and South had collided with deadly force, the casualties and injured climbing to impossible numbers. Even now, the war having been officially over for just about a month, men from both sides limped along the road Ichigo traveled on, clutching at half torn away arms and still gaping shrapnel wounds, the emotional trauma they had all endured invisible and intangible, but still very much there. The orangette didn't know how he managed to make it through the war without being permanently physically damaged, his reckless behavior had surely gotten him into trouble enough times for it to happen.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't permanently damaged in other ways that were both lovely and terrible, visions of white fangs and snow and the most brilliant shade of blue still flashing through his mind at the strangest of times.

"Watch it, boy," a gravelly voice sounded to his left, full of warning. Ichigo, almost succumbing to the torrid memories of that past winter, had almost walked right into a grizzled old man leaning on a wooden crutch, as a part of his right leg was missing. It was easy to see through Ichigo's war trained eyes that the injury was due to a cannon blast.

"Sorry," he said, placing his hat back on his head and about to continue on, when he stopped and turned to the man before he could hobble away. "Excuse me. Do you happen to know where the clerk is?"

The man trained light, haunted eyes on Ichigo, licking his lips before nodding his head once and raising one gnarled finger to point at the end of the street they were on, where only the wooden structures of a few buildings remained, charred and skeletal.

"Just 'round the corner there," the man said, retaining his gruff nature but softening his tone just the slightest bit. Everyone knew why people went to see the 'clerk' and this was a time when most of the population held a healthy respect for the dead, having seen so many die in the few past years, so his slight change in attitude wasn't so surprising. War did that; it changed people and how they viewed the world, whether for better or worse.

Ichigo wasn't quite sure how he himself had been affected by the realities of battle...and the sole comfort he had had for that month or so he had been taken captive. All he knew was that he would never again be the same.

A murmured thanks and a nod of his head to the old man and then he was off, nearly running down the street, something not so far from hope welling up inside of him. He was cautious to give it that 'h' word, because then that would mean that if he didn't find what he was looking for, had been searching for for nearly a month now, he would only be the more disappointed.

But he was only fooling himself, because it didn't matter what he called the emotion he was feeling at that moment, he knew he would be inconsolable for hours if he turned up empty handed yet again. . Not that anyone would be there to console him, anyway. He had left his kin behind in Boston in order to return to the South and look for him.

He rounded the corner to see the place the old man had directed him to immediately, for it was very apparent that the clerk was in the only inhabitable structure on the Atlanta street, considering there was a line of at least a few dozen people, both men and women, that spilled out of the building and down about a hundred feet, only a few steps away from where Ichigo was standing.

Frowning heavily and feeling his heart sink at the sight, he managed to get into line right before a crowd of people suddenly came from seemingly nowhere, rushing to get into the line behind him. He also managed to avoid the elbows and feet that came his way as they all tried to get as far ahead as possible, and when they finally stopped and stood still, not an unpleasant word was exchanged. They were all here for the same reason.

As he got closer and closer to the building where the clerk was, time seemed to move at a glacial pace, and everyone thought they were going to get a reprieve from the blazing heat of the summer sun when clouds rolled in, gray and threatening. Instead the heavens opened and started pouring rain over the city.

No one moved from their place in the line to seek shelter and Ichigo was grateful to have at least his hat to keep the water from pelting his face even as it completely soaked his clothes through by the time he got to the entrance of the building, and he felt that dreaded hope well up in his chest.

The clerk was a little, elderly man, bespectacled and dabbing at his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. He didn't even look up from the mass of papers in front of him when he addressed the orangette.

"Name and rank."

"Actually, I'm here for someone from the Night Division," Ichigo said, causing the clerk to look up with suspicious eyes.

"That information is classified and-" He paused when the younger male reached inside of his shirt to reveal a thin chain around his neck, on which was pinned what was obviously once the badge of a lieutenant colonel, two stars under a black star, the rare emblem of the Night Division. The edges were frayed and held gray pieces of fabric, like it had been torn away from the uniform it had been sewn onto, and where the last name of the badge's owner would usually be instead read Sexta.

The clerk frowned but nodded once before reaching under his desk to place on top of the table an envelope marked with a wax seal with the same black star that was on the badge. He cut through the seal with a letter opener, and withdrew the contents inside. Ichigo clutched onto the side of the desk, not daring to even think of what could be even written there.

"I'm sorry, but...after the lieutenant colonel of the Night Division was dishonorably discharged for abandoning his troops, there has been no new information on his whereabouts."

Ichigo's hold on the edge of the desk tightened momentarily before he let go, letting out a deep breath.

"Thank you, anyway," he said before turning on his heel and heading out of the building, stuffing the chain and badge back under his thin, linen shirt. He walked down the street, the rain still beating down heavily on his back as he dragged his feet across the ground.

He knew what had been written on that piece of parchment was a lie, that the other higher ups of the Night Division had seen their lieutenant colonel after he'd 'abandoned' his troops.

He knew because he'd seen it with his own two eyes, he'd been there that night when the division of inhumanly strong and bloodthirsty Confederate soldiers had caught up with the both of them, and he'd fought tooth and nail, only to be dragged away from the one he was fighting for.

Somewhere near the Virginia Border

November 15th, 1864

The Virginia border was bitterly cold this time of year, but it had yet to snow, and for that Ichigo was grateful. His standard issue Federal uniform did little to protect him from the freezing wind, the chill seeping in through the fabric, so he could only imagine how awful it would feel if he had to trudge through his patrol in a blizzard.

He was in the forest, the deciduous trees still looking dense and all-consuming despite their bare branches. And it was just past midnight, the crescent moon that hung in the sky the only thing that lit his path. It was like something out of a storybook, when the hero bravely made his way through a dark, enchanted forest, fighting monsters along the way.

Ichigo snorted, his breath crystallizing in the dark air. He knew most wouldn't consider him to be the hero, but rather one of the monsters, vicious and flesh-eating.

He adjusted the rucksack on his shoulder and stepped over the trunk of a fallen tree, not making a sound even as his regulation booted feet made contact with the ground full of dead leaves. In fact, except for whistling of the wing every so often through the tree branches, the entire forest seemed to be eerily silent.

The orange-haired boy paused in his tracks, swiveling on the backs of his heels to scan the surrounding area with narrowed ochre eyes, thin tangerine eyebrows pulling together in a contemplative expression. His nearly perfect night vision allowed him to see almost anything that moved even the slightest bit despite the night being a foreboding pitch black. However, his best sense was that of smell.

Ichigo lifted his head slightly in the air to sniff at the scents that carried on the wind, catching only the familiar fragrance of the forest and winter night air for a few moments. And then something else overwhelmed them, something that held notes of mint and rainwater but was overwhelmed by a cloying metallic and sickly sweet smell that burned his nose. Ichigo would know that scent anywhere.

Bloodsucker.

"Shit." He reached for the Enfield rifle musket strapped to his shoulder, flipping it to lay horizontally, one hand underneath the barrel and another on the trigger. "Shit, shit, shit."

The Night Division wasn't supposed to be anywhere near this border, so why was he able to catch one of their troop's very obvious scent in this forest?

Ichigo instinctively glanced up at the dark sky with a waxing crescent moon high above him, as though it would somehow suddenly expand and become full. It didn't, of course, and he felt as if his heart turned to stone and dropped into his stomach. Not often did he feel fear, but at that moment it seemed to course through every fiber of his being.

The distinctive sound of a twig snapping had him whipping around, rifle in hand and one eye closed while the other searched wildly for what had caused the sound.

A dark chuckle from somewhere above him sent a deathly chill colder than any winter into his very bones and he gulped audibly before looking up. What he saw exceeded his expectations.

Up in one of the trees, standing on one of the lower, thick branches, not twenty feet away from where Ichigo stood, was what appeared to be a young man in a high-ranking Confederate uniform in the standard dull gray. And while his face was like that of the hero in the storybook, handsome, beautiful even, with icy ,piercing sapphire eyes and a shock of mussed turquoise hair, his wicked grin featuring two pointed, fatally sharp fangs revealed that he, like Ichigo, was one of the monsters.

There was no doubt that the seemingly normal, attractive man that leered down at him was every bit a vampire.

And let's just say that like the North and South, Ichigo's kind and vampires did not mix.

"What's a cute little pup like you doing out here all alone?" His voice matched his appearance, every bit as lovely and vicious, and it mocked the orangette with its coy tone and aristocratic Southern drawl. Ichigo scowled deeply, but didn't say anything, his brain racing with potential ways he could escape the fate that seemed inevitable.

He couldn't run, couldn't fight, couldn't do anything, not when the moon was anything but full.

"Not very talkative, I see," the newcomer said, stepping off of the tree branch. He seemed to defy gravity as he landed lightly on his feet, wide, hungry grin never wavering. "Or are you just that scared?"

"Fuck off." Ichigo's growl was that of his inner beast, clawing to get out but trapped inside of its human prison.

"Ooh, feisty." The blue-haired bloodsucker licked his lips, a slightly crazed gleam lighting up his already stunning eyes, before blurring with inhuman speed to reappear not a hand's breadth away from Ichigo, who gasped in surprise and tried to back away, but was stopped when the other grabbed the Enfield by its wood and metal barrel, using his bare hand to bend the rifle to a ninety degree angle. "Did you really think that would help you?"

He threw the now useless thing to the ground and Ichigo had never felt more defenseless. Even with the strength and speed that was above a human's he had in his current form, there was no way he could go up against a vampires, especially not if that badge was to be taken into consideration.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with." The orangette didn't like to be toyed with, and he could already see that this monster with an angel's face liked to play with his food.

The blunette's left eyebrow arched and his grin grew even wider, if that was possible. He was so close now that Ichigo got a clearer whiff of the mint and fresh rainwater that lay under the telltale saccharine scent of a leech.

"You don't have to play brave little soldier boy, for me, little wolf pup." The other male leaned in closer and reflexively Ichigo bent backwards, trying to get as far away from that leering grin as possible, but still not try to run away and then engage in a game of cat and mouse. "I can hear how fast your heart is beating..." the bloodsucker trailed off, reaching out a broad, tanned hand to brush his fingers against the pulse point of the orangette's throat. "And I'm not going to kill you..."

Ochre eyes went impossibly wide as the next second, in a motion too fast for even Ichigo to see, the blunette had drawn something metal from seemingly out of nowhere and slipped it over the slighter male's head, cinching it snugly around his throat and cutting off the breathy curse that would have escaped from Ichigo's lips.

The orangette reeled backwards, hands going up to pry at the metal...collar that was now around his throat with all of his strength, only to find that that was now rapidly fading and he very suddenly felt exhausted.

The metal the collar was made out of was silver. Contrary to popular belief, silver wouldn't kill him, or burn him, but rather just debilitate his inhuman abilities when he was in his human form.

"Y-you bastard..." he gasped out, still trying to get the damned thing off of his neck even while his knees started to buckle and he felt as if he may black out at any second.

"Don't be mad at me, pup." The bloodsucker smiled viciously. "I'm just giving you a proper leash."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed at that and with the last dregs of strength he had that the silver hadn't sapped away, he jerked backwards headfirst. The chain the collar was attached to actually slipped a few inches out of the blue-haired male's grasp before he tightened his hold on it, grin falling.

"Still have some bite left in you, yeah?" The vampire pulled on the chain so harshly then that Ichigo let out a yelp and was forcibly brought to his knees, only to be forced fast first into the pile of dead leaves on the frozen ground by the leech's foot on his back. "I'd suggest you get rid of that real quick-like...if you want to live, that is."

"You're not going to just suck all my blood out right here." Ichigo said, voice slightly muffled from his prostrate position and dripping with bitterness. An amused chuckle rang out from somewhere above him, closer than he would have guessed, meaning that the bloodsucker was bending over, his breath that smelled of blood and mint caressing tangerine locks of hair on the back of his neck.

"While I wouldn't mind having a little taste, especially since your rather tasty wolf blood would give me enough power to run up north and kill all of your filthy mutt kin, I'm supposed to bring you back unharmed, so we'll have to wait to have a little fun, now won't we?"

The blue-haired vampire didn't wait for Ichigo's reply before sweeping him up and over his shoulder, the orangette too tired and temporarily stunned to do much about it, despite the ire pumping through his veins at . Then they were running through the dead winter forest at a breakneck speed, bare trees blurring as they traveled by.

It was an hour or so later that Ichigo was ungraciously dropped to the ground, knocking him out of the somewhat comatose state he had slipped into when he'd been carried through the forest. He'd had to close his eyes in order not to feel sick in his weakened daze, and had started to drift off, trying to think of anything but the situation he was in now.

"Stand up, unless you want me to drag you," the blue-haired bloodsucker said, wrapping the chained leash around his hand more firmly.

The orangette shook his head in order to gain clarity, and pushed himself off of the ground to stand on shaky legs, his knees nearly buckling under him. The silver had taken more of a toll on his body in the time that had passed, but he was still competent enough to grasp onto the last bit of dignity he had.

Blinking a few times, he saw that he was at the other end of the massive deciduous forest he'd been patrolling, which had been a good two hundred miles long. He also noted that he was about twenty feet away from the entrance to a Confederate fort, and not just any fort run by any division if the white flag emblazoned with a black star above the Confederate's red and blue flag was any indication. He'd been told about that symbol of the black star, that it belonged to the elite 'Night Division', and so he knew just by whom this fort was run.

Ichigo had just been taken into the vampires' den, their very base of operations full of inhuman, bloodsucking monsters.

He must have made a sound of disbelief, because his captor chuckled darkly before tugging on the chain attached to the collar around the Union soldier's throat.

"Come on, little wolf pup."

Ichigo snarled half-heartedly, but the other male paid him no mind as he forcibly led him to the wooden gates of the fort, which automatically opened for them and revealed the camp that lay inside.

The orangette was surprised to see that the inside of the vampire fort was just like any other, filled with rows of canvas tents and off-duty soldiers amiably chatting and toying with their musket rifles, lanterns lighting the area with a warm glow. It almost reminded Ichigo of the camp he'd left for his patrol mere hours before. They even had female troops milling about, allowed to fight for their country because of their superior status as an immortal being.

He kept his head high as he and the blue-haired bloodsucker walked through the row of tents and vampires, who all immediately stopped whatever they were doing to glare at the orange-haired young man, knowing what he was and how much they subsequently hated him as soon as they caught a whiff of his scent. A few hissed, snarled, growled, but not a one said anything. Most likely out of respect for the commanding officer that was leading Ichigo to the biggest tent of them all in the center of everything, the flap to which was lifted out of the way by a guard posted at the entrance for the two of them.

"Ah, Grimmjow. It's so nice to see you've returned safely," an eerily mild voice said as soon as the two of them entered. "And you've brought a present, as well."

The inside of the tent was much more lavish than any Ichigo had ever seen, the speaker, no doubt the leader of the bloodsuckers, lounging on a mass of pillows, while other high-ranking officers of the division were scattered about, silent as their eyes took in the newcomers.

As a leader of several dozens of vampires, the speaker was everything Ichigo expected him to be. An aristocratic, old-world air about him that the leeches were known for as he reclined against the pillows, a tumbler of scarlet liquid that certainly wasn't red wine in one poised hand. His physical appearance, though, was surprisingly as mild as his voice, with nondescript, pleasant features and coiffed chestnut brown hair and idle stare.

The Union solder had plenty of things to say about being called a 'present', but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction.

"Yeah, I got him just like you wanted," the blunette vampire said, losing all trace of his earlier arrogance and mirth as he grumbled in a cross manner. Then he let the chained leash in his hand drop to the ground with a clatter, and for a second Ichigo was tempted to turn and run, before reason kicked in.

"Are you sure he's good enough for Lord Aizen? He looks kind of scrawny to me," a vampire that had to be close to seven feet tall said from the corner. One of his eyes was covered with an eye patch but the other beady one surveyed Ichigo disapprovingly.

The blue-haired male that Ichigo now knew as Grimmjow snarled, letting one of his fatally sharp canines show.

"I'm damn sure. I sensed his blood's power...it's got a real kick to it," he said, his eyes swiveling over to meet Ichigo's as he said the last part.

"I can feel that," the leader said, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit as they traveled over the orangette's lithe, navy-clad frame. Ichigo had to resist growling as he positively felt the bloodsucker reaching out with his senses to sniff at his purely wolf scent. "He will be perfect. Thank you for bringing him to me, my dear lieutenant."

Grimmjow said nothing, but Ichigo barely noticed. His brain had finally caught up with what was being said about him, grasping onto especially what his captor had said about sensing his blood's power.

Almost subconsciously, he took a step backwards, only to have two of the bloodsuckers behind him and blocking his exit in the blink of an eye. Ichigo had never felt more trapped in his entire life, or scared, and not just for himself either, but for all of his kin back home in the North if the vampires followed through on the plans they obviously had for him.

Not only would he die but every single one of his kin would as well, and then undoubtedly the South would win this war.

And it seemed he could do nothing to stop it.

"You may escort our guest to where he will be staying until the full moon," the leader, Lord Aizen, said nonchalantly.

Grimmjow didn't say or do anything in response besides grip Ichigo by the arm, the latter feeling the ice cold touch through the several layers of fabric, and lead him back outside into the cold orangette let a wave of hopelessness wash over him as he was shown to a smaller, but still large canvas tent.

Not a soul knew where he was, and unless he managed to develop a genius plan to escape the clutches of these filthy bloodsuckers... everything would be lost.

Ichigo didn't snap back to reality until he heard the distinct sound of metal against wood. Eyes refocusing from their glazed over state, he took in the fact that he had not been taken to a holding cell for prisoners of war, but rather what looked to be a commanding officer's personal tent as it had a nice cot, a bedside lantern and makeshift table, and a trunk at the end of the cot that was shut closed but had to contain personal effects. He also noted that Grimmjow was securing the end of his chain leash onto a wooden pole embedded deeply into the ground.

Outrage swelled up in him at that, furious at being tethered to a pole like some kind of animal, but the blue-haired bloodsucker paid no mind to his soft snarls, instead walking over to where a rather large canteen for drinking water lay on the makeshift table, snatching it up. Ichigo deduced then that the tent he was in was Grimmjow's.

"I'm going to feed-"

"Don't you mean going to kill some innocent, defenseless person for your meal?" The orangette's tone was bitter and held all of the disdain he had for Grimmjow and his kind, leeches posing as humans. "What'll it be this time, a woman? A child?"

The next second, the blunette's hand was pulling at a handful of Ichigo's sunset hair, pulling his head back so that he was forced to look right into the blazing sapphire eyes.

"I reckon you shouldn't speak of things you know nothing about," Grimmjow said in his aristocratic, Southern drawl. "But then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from your kind."

"Fuck you," Ichigo said, venom practically spitting from between his lips.

"My apologies, but I wouldn't let my good bits near a mangy little mutt like you." The vampire smirked, obviously satisfied with himself when the slighter male's eyes burned a deep sable with loathing and rage.

"You wish I meant it that way." Ichigo gathered up some of his last reserves of inhuman strength and jerked out of Grimmjow's hold, though this didn't seem to bother the other as his aura of arrogance only increased, gaze glimmering with bemusement.

"Don't dare to flatter yourself, pup. I know inside that little orange head of yours you're begging for it, for me to throw you down on my cot right over there and take you," the bloodsucker said as if he really did know. "But you won't admit to it simply because I'm part of an evolved species that looks down on animals like your kind."

"You bastard! I'll-"

"You'll what? Kill me with that deadly stare?" Grimmjow gave a barking laugh. "Ha! You're even more powerless with the silver around your neck, you can't do a goddamn thing."

Ichigo breathed heavily through his nose, but saying nothing as standing for so long in his weakened state had taken its toll and he felt somewhat faint and lightheaded. He swayed to the side and despite trying to hide it as best he could, the vampire noticed and laughed again.

"Just wait here while I go feed, and if you're a good little pup I'll scratch you behind the ears when I come back."

And with that, Grimmjow was gone in a burst of chilled night air, leaving the orangette alone in the tent.

Ichigo let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, sliding down to sit Indian style on the ground. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open as the silver took full effect and made him weaker than a newborn and the freezing cold fingers of the early winter wind sank into his very bones.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden pole, letting his eyelids flutter closed. All he saw in the resulting darkness was the massacre of his kin, the entire Union army, everyone he ever knew and loved, what was sure to happen if he didn't find a way to escape, to stop what the vampire leader, Lord Aizen, was planning.

But he knew that it wasn't possible, at least all on his own.

He needed help.

A/N: I hope you liked this first part wolfsparadise. I sincerely apologize for getting this out later than promised, you've been so good to me, reviewing and favoriting my stories. I remember the first time I got a review from you on "All I Want", I actually squealed because I am such an avid fan of "Getting Away With Murder." And this is like one of the best ideas for a story ever. This one's for you!

This most likely will have three parts to it. Perhaps more. It depends on how much self-discipline I have. Next part will contain the rest of Ichigo's captivity as he's held by the vampires, what they have planned, and how his and Grimmjow's relationship grows from enemies to something more. ; )

On the Historical Accuracy: I know not everything is accurate. I had to change several things in order for the story to make sense. I know that the Confederate army didn't have divisions, but rather the Union did. However, let's just pretend they made an exception for "the Night Division" and that they were still doing well enough to be stationed in Virginia at the end of 1864. I also let some of my inner feminist take over for a moment and wrote that female vampires and werewolves fought too. And I tried to give Grimmjow a bit of an American Southern accent, so hopefully that worked out somewhat.

Tiana Misoro and TokugawaSmile, don't think I've forgotten I promised you two your requests! I won't go back on my word, I swear. You'll get your Indecent Proposal GrimmIchiShiro and Naruto GrimmIchi if it's that last thing I do! :D