CHAPTER 12: MORE TO IT

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XOXOXO

Grimmjow's eyes slowly opened, his head throbbing painfully and a sharp sting stabbing his ankles and wrists. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to his surroundings. He was dismayed to find that his legs were shackled to a cold, damp stone floor and his wrists held over his head and shackled to a cold, damp stone wall. There was a small sliver of light coming from under a large wooden door across from him, but there were no windows and the air reeked of waste, decay and mold. He spotted a pile of decrepit hay in the left corner of the room, the floor covered in what looked like rat droppings.

He curled his upper lip, the strong odor assaulting his sensitive nose. Where the hell was he? Out of nowhere, a barrage of images flew at him. He remembered talking to Nnoitra in the sitting room about the possibility of Ichigo being the heir to the lost clan of Eieren, before a small, dark-haired and green-eyed fairy had emerged out of thin air. He'd been using La Garganta, the same method of transportation Grimmjow, Neliel and Nnoitra had used to get to the human dimension. As soon as he'd entered the room, he'd attacked Nnoitra, Grimmjow's best friend not even standing a chance against the short, but militantly stoic fairy.

After that, a brunet fairy with cold brown eyes had stepped into the room, his chin held high and nose upturned. Grimmjow had felt ice sweep over him as the smell of oppressively evil power invaded his nose. He hadn't quite understood what'd been going on until Nnoitra had informed him of the man's identity. Hearing "I am Aizen" hadn't been enough for his tired mind to grasp. The realization of who the fairy emitting waves of strength was, hit Grimmjow hard. All he could remember were the anguished faces of his people as they were killed. Even his parents. God, his mother.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth as heat stung his eyes and tingled the inside of his nose. Anger so raw consumed him and made him struggle against his restraints. It was fruitless. Just like his brief fight with Aizen had been. He hadn't expected the man to regard him as a nonthreat - not that he'd even cared at the time. The fact that Grimmjow had been so easily defeated left a sour taste in his mouth. If only I'd had Pantera, he thought bitterly as he hung his head. Maybe if he'd had his birthright, he would have been able to make that Aizen asshole take him seriously. No one had ever been able to defeat him in his Resurreccion form. Although, Nnoitra had come close with his.

He'd never encountered the higher levels of the other clans because he'd never met any survivors. Roande had been destroyed; so had Eieren. That had left Eloria. Now, they were gone. Despair clutched him in its fist and made him gasp for air. He couldn't believe his kind was becoming extinct and all because of an egotistical madman.

And Ichigo. What would happen to him? Did he even know that Grimmjow had been attacked? Was more than likely back in Faery? Did he care if he did know? Grimmjow hung his head, dejected. Just when he thought he'd found someone to love and be with, this had to happen. He already missed Ichigo's warm sienna eyes and bright orange hair. That interesting smell of clean clothes and freshly washed skin. That carefree smile and those cavernous dimples.

Grimmjow growled, frustrated as he struggled against his restraints again. He had to get out of...wherever he was. He needed to see Ichigo again, needed to touch and kiss him again. His place was at the orange-haired man's side, after all. His struggling did nothing but chafe his skin and make his ankles and wrists ache. The shackles were snug and prevented any form of escape. Stewing in his misery, he hung his head in defeat. For now. Someone would have to come in sooner or later and when they did, he would find a way out of the shackles.

Just as Grimmjow was growing accustomed to the eerie silence and pressing darkness, the wooden door swung open, revealing a tall, broad silhouette. He squinted at the sudden bright white light behind the figure, his pupils constricting.

"Oh, so you're awake."

That voice. There was no doubt about it. It was Aizen. Grimmjow's thoughts were confirmed when the brunet stepped into the dark room, the wooden door slamming shut behind him. Grimmjow's heart rate picked up when he heard the soft rustling of robes and the equally soft thuds of the fairy's armored boots. His nose picked up the man's scent of ginger tea and sheer evil the closer he came. Grimmjow shifted under the weight of the shackles. He hated being so vulnerable. Chained to the wall and floor, he had no way to defend himself.

He was helpless.

Aizen seemed to stop right in front of Grimmjow, his powerful aura filling the room like thick, black smoke. The brunet waved a hand carelessly, his movements lazy, yet calculated. A small ball of light formed in front of him, then split up and shot to all four walls of the tiny room, where they alighted to torch fixtures. The room seemed to glow like a flickering candle, shadows dancing on the stone walls. With the illumination, Grimmjow was able to take in his environment a lot easier, but what he saw curdled his blood and made him want to scream.

Full skeletons were draped across the floor to Grimmjow's right and two more were chained to the wall, as if the victims had been left to die and forgotten about for ages. Grimmjow pursed his lips, his brow pulled into a deep scowl. No wonder the room smelled so bad. He felt a strong amount of pity for the souls that had suffered here.

"Don't worry. If you behave and cooperate, you won't end up like them," Aizen stated smoothly, deep voice satiny and convincing.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth and peeled his lips from his teeth in an expert sneer. "Fuck you," he snapped.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such language from a beautiful creature like you. That won't do. Also, I'm so sad to see that you've cut your gorgeous hair. That was all part of your appeal, you realize?"

Grimmjow frowned, confused. "What're you talking about?"

"My, my, but you are still amazing," the fairy went on as if Grimmjow hadn't said a word. "I suppose I can bear with the loss of those wondrous tresses."

Aizen lifted his hand to Grimmjow's face and Grimmjow had to physically hold back a flinch. He didn't want to show this evil being an ounce of weakness. Aizen didn't hit him like Grimmjow had been expecting; instead, he cupped Grimmjow's chin and turned his face from side to side, studying it as if he were searching for flaws.

"You are so perfect," the brunet whispered in awe.

Grimmjow felt his insides writhe unpleasantly. What the fuck was Aizen going on about? The fairy actually sounded like he was...interested in Grimmjow. The tips of Aizen's fingers burned like acid. Grimmjow didn't want anyone touching him that way except Ichigo. His Ichigo.

Suddenly, Aizen leaned forward, lips coming dangerously close to Grimmjow's. No! his mind shrieked in panic. This wasn't happening. He struggled against the man's iron grip, his body bucking and thrashing, straining against the shackles keeping him in place. His knee managed to jerk upward and caught Aizen in the thigh, just below the fairy's goods. Aizen's face stopped moving towards him and his brown eyes went frigid. The temperature in the room dropped drastically, the fairy's power whipping around the small space frantically and making the lit torches sputter.

Grimmjow held the fairy's gaze and clenched his teeth. When Aizen reared back and slapped him, he'd been expecting it. He hadn't been expecting the pain, though. His face exploded and his skin seemed to tear straight from the muscles. Stars flashed and cluttered his vision as his head snapped to the right. Grimmjow only had a chance to work his stinging jaw a couple of times before it was once again grabbed, this time with much more force. His face was yanked around and he was forced into eye contact with the deranged brunet fairy.

"I will have you. I don't care if it requires me to break you first, but I will have you, Elorian Prince," Aizen said coolly, features not even scrunched in anger.

Grimmjow swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat as Aizen let his face go and swept from the room, taking the light from the torches with him. Grimmjow licked the corner of his mouth, tasting blood, then hung his head again. And just to think, he'd been perfectly happy not too long ago.

XOXOXO

Ichigo stared at Urahara, his heart pounding madly. "What?"

"I understand you're surprised, but what I told you is the truth."

"That's impossible. If I was a fucking fairy, I think I would know, don't you?"

Urahara laughed and whipped out that stupid paper fan. "Do you really believe that?"

Ichigo sat down hard on the couch in the sitting room. Shinji was in his bedroom with Gin, who was still trying to keep Nnoitra from losing his life to the severe wound in his middle, so the younger blond hadn't heard the lovely news that Urahara had just shared with Ichigo. How was Ichigo supposed to believe that he was a fairy after he'd been "human" his whole life? And why hadn't his old man bothered to tell him something so important?

"So, let me get this straight. I'm a fairy, my…my dad is a fairy…in fact, my whole family is Fae. Why don't we have the ears and the super strength and all that good shit?" he asked.

Again Urahara laughed, his fan waving back and forth languidly. "Your family came here in hiding, so I had to place the strongest illusions on all of you to allow you to lead a human life. To avoid suspicion, of course. As the royal family of Eieren, it wouldn't-"

"Wait! What?" Ichigo shouted, jumping from his seat. "What do you mean royal? Like Grimmjow, royal?"

"Yes," Urahara answered, face calm and devoid of any emotion.

"Where's my old man? He needs to tell me this shit himself. Does he know about all this?"

"As the King of the Eieren clan, he very well should, don't you think?"

"Don't get snippy with me, asshole! This is in no way makes any sense to me right now. If this is true, then that means you've known about it for a while. I haven't! Don't give me sarcasm for asking questions and being rightfully skeptical."

"You misunderstand me, Kurosaki-kun. I'm only trying to get you to see the truth and use your head. We don't have the luxury of time in this instance, however wonderful that may be. Grimmjow is in the hands of an extremely dangerous fairy. Aizen will not see reason, he will not negotiate, and we have no idea why he wants the Elorian prince in the first place."

Ichigo snarled, his upper lip curling back ferociously as he balled his hands into fists. "I know that. You don't have to remind me that some crazy ass fairy came and snatched my-"

Ichigo stopped abruptly, his heart freezing as well. What had he been about to admit? Had he really been about to confess to Urahara how he felt about Grimmjow? Ichigo sighed and slowly lowered himself onto the couch. He would hold onto that thought for the time being. First, he needed to figure out what the deal was with his situation and newly learned heritage.

"Kurosaki-kun, I have already called your father. He's on his way to explain things a bit better than I've managed to. There are still many things that you need to know."

"Yeah, no shit," Ichigo returned rather sullenly.

He wasn't in a very charitable mood.

Right when he felt like he would sink into the darkest pits of his thoughts, Shinji came out of his bedroom, eyes red-rimmed and face telling of his exhaustion and stress. Gin wasn't behind him, so Ichigo figured the tall, silver-haired fairy was still working his magic – no pun intended – on the unconscious Nnoitra. The slender blond shuffled his way into the sitting room, then plopped down on the floor in front of Ichigo's legs. His head instantly found Ichigo's knee and the action made Ichigo's heart go out to his best friend. He hated seeing Shinji upset, considering it was so rare.

Ichigo lifted a hand and passed it through the sweat-dampened blond strands resting against his leg. "How is he?" he asked carefully.

Shinji was silent for a few seconds before he sighed deeply and shrugged almost helplessly. "He's still alive, but barely," he whispered, voice cracking.

A thick, almost eerie quietness enveloped the room, making Ichigo itch to move around in place. He didn't know what to say to his friend. He felt that anything reassuring would seem a bit out of place, and really not what Shinji wanted to hear at the moment. Urahara edged into view and propped himself on the arm of the couch, his paper fan tucked into his tunic, thankfully. Ichigo really didn't understand the necessity of that thing. Urahara looked like he wanted to say something to his adopted son, but like Ichigo, couldn't find the words to say. Instead, all he did was sit and watch Shinji rest his eyes and lay against Ichigo's knee.

The sound of heavy knocking scattered the silence like marbles and made everyone in the sitting room jump like excited frogs. Ichigo glanced at the apartment door, apprehension crawling around in his gut, making him nauseous. He supposed that could only be one person at the door at this hour, and all of a sudden, he was afraid to hear what his old man had to tell him. What if Urahara was telling the truth and not just pulling his leg? Could he handle that? Ichigo bit his bottom lip and scowled. He didn't think so, but he wasn't about to run from whatever was going to happen.

Urahara rose from his perch, dramatically slow, as if he were moving like a snail on purpose, and made his way to the door. He looked back at Ichigo, dark eyes filled with a teasing mystery and if Ichigo'd had something to throw at the man's head, he would have.

"Just open the door already!" he snapped.

Urahara actually snickered and turned back to the door, his hand going for the knob. "Hai, hai."

The door was pulled open, but who appeared in the threshold wasn't who Ichigo had been expecting. Instead, a head full of ash-white hair popped into view. No way, Ichigo thought, his mouth falling open slightly. What the fuck was Shirosaki doing at his house now?

"Ah, Shiro-kun," Urahara said with a small bow. "Nice to see you again."

"Yo, Hat Guy, how goes it? Where's the fire?" Shiro responded, his strange eyes twinkling with amusement and misconduct.

Before Urahara could respond, another voice Ichigo hadn't been expecting, interjected. "Must you be so uncouth?"

Ichigo's eyebrows partied on the ceiling and his mouth went dry. What the hell was going on exactly? Finally, the voice he had been expecting boomed over all the others. "We found a stray in the hallway! Do you recognize this young fellow, Kisuke?"

Ichigo shook his head, wondering what poor soul had been sidetracked by his old man. If he knew his father – which he did – whoever was in his custody had probably been dragged by the arm, kicking and screaming the whole way. Urahara stepped back from the door and quirked his lips as he allowed their visitors to enter the apartment.

"No, I can't say that I do, Isshin."

Ichigo watched as Shirosaki sauntered into the room first, manic grin spread across his pale features. He was wearing a black tee today, with black cargo shorts and black sneakers, that large sword case strapped to his back once again. He was followed by Byakuya Kuchiki, Ichigo's professor at the University, who wore a matching outfit, sword case attached to his back as well. Byakuya wore his stoic personality like a coat, his features slack, but violet eyes piercing and sharp as they searched the room. They settled on the spot of blood in the middle of the floor and narrowed before swinging around the room again, taking in the overturned coffee table and general disorder, Ichigo supposed. Finally, Ichigo's father bounced into the room, dragging a small, snowy-haired boy behind him.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Fucking idiot, he inwardly sighed.

"No, I wasn't spying on you!" the boy growled and Ichigo had to re-evaluate his opinion. The boy didn't sound like a boy at all.

Isshin glanced down at the guy, but maintained his grip on the slim arm. He started to speak, but Shiro cut in ahead of him. "Then what the hell were ya doin' roamin' the halls and askin' fer Grimmjow for? How d'ya know Grimmjow, anyway?"

Ichigo's ears perked up at the sound of Grimmjow's name. A stranger that knew Grimmjow by name? That couldn't be a coincidence. He sat forward, Shinji shifting in front of him to make room for his movement. The snowy-haired, short male peered up at Isshin before shrugging the man off roughly. After Isshin's grip loosened, the guy peered up at him and frowned, his head tilting to the side in a curious manner.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" the guy asked, his voice deeper than Ichigo's.

Isshin's eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds before morphing back into wide innocence and laughing idiocy. Ichigo was no fool and the short, white-haired fellow didn't appear to be, either. He stared Isshin down for a bit longer, eyes the color of aqua crystals, suspicious and calculating. He seemed like he was running over all the places he could have seen the taller man.

Suddenly, those eyes widened and his mouth fell open in what Ichigo assumed had to be shock. "You-" he choked, his finger coming up to point at Isshin's broad chest.

He was unable to get the rest of his words out before Shiro appeared beside him, long sword no longer in its case, but aimed directly at the little dude's neck. Little Dude snapped his mouth shut as his face paled and his eyes grew even wider.

"Watch that hand a'yers. Shit like that makes me nervous," Shiro said lowly, making Ichigo raise his eyebrows in astonishment.

What the hell was going on? It felt like Shiro was protecting Ichigo's old man, but Ichigo didn't want to jump to conclusions. Then, he glanced over at Byakuya and the jumping to conclusions idea disappeared like vapor. Byakuya was glaring at Little Dude too, his sword drawn but resting ominously at his side. The crazy thing though: Ichigo hadn't even heard either of the men move, let alone draw swords.

Little Dude swallowed audibly and Ichigo would bet that the guy's chest was hurting from how hard and fast his heart was probably beating. "I wasn't threatening him. I just, I just recognized him," Little Dude said quietly, deep voice completely out of place compared to his small body.

Shiro snorted, his sword pressing closer to Little Dude's neck, causing a thin line of blood to appear. "That's worse, ya know."

Ichigo slowly climbed to his feet, tired of being ignored and curious of Little Dude's identity. He waved a hand nonchalantly. "Hi! Remember me?"

All eyes swung in his direction, Urahara's exasperated, Little Dude's desperate, Byakuya's disinterested and Shiro's highly amused. Ichigo's old man cracked a grin that stretched his generous mouth to his sideburns. "Ichigo, my sonnn! How could I ever forget you?" he shouted.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and stepped over Shinji, who was still seated on the floor, face hopeless and depressed. He came to a stop in front of his father and poked the man in the chest. Hard. "Stop. Being. An. Idiot. IDIOT! Urahara told me something that you need to explain. Like now."

Finally, the older man's face became sober as he studied Ichigo. He rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw, his head automatically listing to the side as he obviously pondered over something. Ichigo cocked his head to the side as well, giving his old man an impatient glare as he waited for him to say something. Anything.

"What have you already told him, Kisuke?" Isshin asked, his upper body turning to face Urahara.

Urahara's fan went back to waving as it appeared from the sleeve of his tunic. "Er, well-"

"Did you know that Grimmjow was a fairy?" Ichigo blurted, studying his father's face for any sign of surprise. When all he found was a sort of resigned weariness, he huffed. "You knew the whole time, didn't you? So, does that mean it's true what Urahara said about us being Fae? You, me, Karin, Yuzu? Mom?" Ichigo ended in a whisper.

Isshin's face tightened briefly before he nodded shortly. "It's true," he said, hammering the nail into place.

Ichigo glared at the carpet, his heart losing its mind and his nerves going haywire. It was true. He was a fairy, the same as Grimmjow. The shock was too fresh, the news too real. He decided to just get the bare facts for now, so he could come up with a way to get Grimmjow back. He would deal with what he was later, when he had time to sit and think on it.

"So, has Urahara told you what happened?" Ichigo asked his old man.

Isshin nodded, but his eyes were confused. "Ichigo, don't you want to know more abou-"

Ichigo held up a hand, cutting him off. "No. I'll ask about that later. Right now, I just wanna get Grimmjow back. What do you know about this Aizen guy?"

"…He's driven by revenge. He believes that the Elorian clan destroyed his clan, Roande, but it's not true. Well, no, in a manner of speaking, it is. It's just not in the way he believes," Isshin answered.

Urahara stepped in. "The reason the Eieren clan fell was for the same reason that the Elorian clan was led to destroy Roande. There was a traitor in our midst that had no other desire than to see our world burn."

"OK, you lost me. Mind speaking in layman's terms?" Ichigo drawled, going back to the couch.

Urahara grinned and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Little Dude, who was still being held hostage by Shirosaki. "Eieren was betrayed by their own kind, a family who's surname is Grantz. They wanted all of the royal clans to fall, until there were no more, leaving all Fae as commoners, as the Grantz family were. They had someone kill one of the Eieren king's advisors, then framed the king himself, causing mass discord amongst the clan. Which is why the royal family of Eieren had to flee the kingdom. Most thought them dead, while others thought they'd just disappeared."

The room fell deathly silent as all eyes went to Little Dude. Ichigo wanted to laugh at the bright red stain creeping over Little Dude's face, but had a more pressing matter to tend to. "Um, what's your name?" he asked.

"Toshiro. Hitsugaya."

Ichigo had never heard the name before and he'd never seen the little, snowy-haired man before, but Toshiro obviously knew a lot about Fae. Perhaps he could help them get Grimmjow back. Before Ichigo could open his mouth to ask Toshiro anything else, Urahara stepped in, his fan strangely inert.

"Would you mind telling us how you came to have that knowledge?"

Toshiro glanced at the older blond and shrugged. His hand crept up to a black skully, slowly pulling it off and revealing more of that gleaming white hair. It also revealed a pair of pointed ears that made Ichigo's eyes widen. That silence was back forcefully, while all the occupants of the room stared Toshiro down. Ichigo knew the guy had to feel like an object under a microscope.

"Does that give you an answer?" Toshiro asked quietly, his aqua eyes intense.

Isshin cleared his throat and raised a hand, indicating for Shiro to lower his sword. "Toshiro, did you say?"

Toshiro nodded. "Yes. I was informed of my heritage only recently by my grandfather."

"And he was a fairy as well?" Urahara asked.

Toshiro nodded.

Isshin took a step closer to Toshiro, making Shiro glance back and forth between the two warily, his actions uncertain of the unfolding situation. His pale brows were furrowed and his grip on his sword had tightened. Ichigo would have felt bad for him if he hadn't been more focused on what his old man was about to say to Toshiro.

"What was your grandfather's name?"

"Yamamoto-"

"I had a feeling."

Ichigo's neck was getting tired from swinging back and forth between Toshiro, Urahara and his old man, but the more they spoke, the more intense things became.

"Actually, my grandfather didn't tell me what I was. My mother did. She, um, she came to me in a sort of-"

"It wasn't a vision," Urahara interjected. "She used a method of communication only a few powerful sorcerers are capable of. To be able to reach the Resting Life is a tremendous accomplishment."

"I-It is?" Toshiro stuttered.

"Does that mean that you can do it as well, Uncle?" a silvery voice asked from the hall entryway.

Ichigo swung his head around, his eyes immediately going to the tall, silver-haired fairy standing with his hands tucked into his robes. Ichigo could feel his mouth hanging open as he tried to absorb all of the information being tossed around the room. Now what was going on? And since Gin was out of Shinji's room, did that mean that Nnoitra's condition was stable? Or had something terrible happened? Ichigo hated to think of Shinji's reaction if the freakishly tall fairy hadn't survived.

Urahara pursed his lips and nodded. "Yes. I-I just can't believe sensei was here and didn't tell me."

Hearing Urahara stutter was like hearing a one month old child speak fluent English. Ichigo gaped, his temples starting to throb. There was entirely too much going on and he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle all of it.

"Sensei?" Gin snapped, his voice sharp as a pin. "What sensei?"

Urahara gave his signature mysterious smirk, his dark eyes twinkling. "Who do you think taught me and your father?"

Gin went silent, but Ichigo felt like he'd been holding his breath for long enough. "I'm so fucking lost right now," he grumbled. Shiro snorted with laughter, making Ichigo look his way, murder intent in his gaze. "What's funny?"

"You."

"Fuck you," Ichigo snarled, prepared to leap at the stupid albino's throat, but Shinji placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes wide as soup bowls.

"What the hell is going on, Ichi?" he questioned, his voice breathy and confused.

It was then that Ichigo remembered that Shinji had no idea what was going on. He didn't even know about Ichigo and is family being royal fairies. He studied his best friend's dark gaze and shifted his weight. How was he supposed to tell him, when he didn't even know where to start?

See you next time!