Chapter 5: Hope

When you had no sight, there seemed little to do but worry and brood. Ichigo was unsure which of these he did the most, but he certainly knew he was doing them quite a lot. Aizen couldn't spend every moment with him, unsure as he was, he didn't fancy that idea either. His previous life had been lived with a certain amount of bloody-mindedness and he wanted to keep hold of that no matter how much his submissive side had come to the front.

Currently he was bed ridden again. Damn this bloody sightlessness. His foot was sore, his body shivered in fever and the doctors had insisted on his readmission to hospital. This fiasco seemed to be a rollercoaster from hell that was bent on keeping his sanity at bay, his life on hold and his prognosis dim. Life wasn't fair.

The general sense of malaise had settled with the heat that burned in his body and the chill that swept over his skin. To lay here feeling disagreeable, bored and totally and utterly sorry for himself was another new experience that had forced its way into his life unwanted.

He hated just about everything right now, the feel of the sheets against his damp sickly skin, the weight of the blankets on his tender body, the chill of the room with an ever present draft that tormented the few parts of his shivering form left uncovered. He hated the quietness of the room as well as the noise of the corridor just out of his reach. Or the hunger in his throat gasping for water and the fullness of his guts hating the gruel that bubbled with nausea. He was alone, yet not wanting company. The smell of disinfectant permeating the air, the washing powder on the bedding and the odour of shampoo that was not his own.

Sleep came and went. He lay intermittently shaking, trembling, quivering or twitching without a clue as to where which became another or what separated them at all but they all made him tired with exhaustion.

The echo of the activity outside his room made him feel even more isolated than he was. Loneliness was something he thought he'd never feel again. Maybe when he arrived in this town miles from home by himself he sort of expected it. He'd lived in his small apartment not talking to a sole minus those few who interacted with him at work for their jobs. But back then, none were friends, he had no social circle, no hobbies he partook in, no groups or bars to sit in. It had taken a while to find his feet at work, then build from that bubble of life outwards to the point he felt happy again.

All those things he had at that point taken for granted had effectively been written off now. His friends seemed not to care, probably too worried about what they could talk to him about. His work would be impossible, reading the data he used to check and validate before sending off around the various ports of Las Noches could now be done better by a trained monkey. His riding… Oh was he going to miss that. To feel that power throbbing between his legs, the rumble of the engine and the ground surrendering to his speedy flight over it. The rubber of the handles that joined man and bike until they were one entity in tune with each other, acting on impulse to the environmental input they encountered. He was going to miss it all.

Tears bit at his flesh, all the more painful for the inflammation and infection that had taken root and seared into his body. The hopelessness was something that just wouldn't go away. It arrived like a jolt when he awoke blind after the accident and had yet to leave him. It was worse than any nightmare he could have suffered. A blackness had not only burned away his sight, it had etched into his heart too. Life was bleak, going to be bleak and there wasn't ever going to be any change to that was there.

Sobs broke the silence until wariness and fatigue became the stronger.

...

Stark, still a lanky human with hair that looked like it needed a wash, a leather coat with tired fluff around the collar, leather trousers that shone on the ass because he sat around in them too much, peered through the glass of the door to Ichigo's room checking he'd been given the right number. It seemed he had having the description of, 'you'll know it's the right room when you see bright orange.' Orange he did indeed see. Orange attached to IV bags, catheters and shivering quite badly that the said flash of orange was like a shimmering wave of ornamental grasses his mother used to grow in her garden.

He pushed the door open and noted his new client was sound asleep and figured it would hurt none to join him on that comfy looking chair in the corner. He slid his messenger bag over his shoulder and let it flop against the chair leg upright. His bottom found the seat comfortable, the armrest was just at a good height that his bent arm propped his head just right. It wouldn't do to wake with a sore kink in his neck.

...

Aizen signed the necessary documents that would seal the bid for the trash collectors new contract - at a lower rate of pay of course unless they met his tight budget and time schedules. He listened to his mayoral secretary with her fake boobs and bleached hair, reel off his missed calls and correspondence still awaiting his replies. Working at Los Noches was easier than running a town.

Gin intercepted the noisy list of to do's with his shrill ring tone in his breast pocket.

"Gin." Aizen smiled politely at the secretary, he didn't want to recall her name and dismissed her with a slight flick of his hand.

"Starkys been dropped off wit ya boy. Renji wa only toooo de-lighted to clean out that flat for Ichi-chan cos he dint want his stuff pilfered."

"As if."

"He ain't so loyal tu us."

"I'm not concerned for his feelings. He has been offered a life line thanks to his friendship with Ichigo, but his cards are marked." Sosuke twisted his chair around to look out of the view of his window. The old building had some fine architecture and was simply beautiful as far as the brunette thought.

"Izuru says he means well."

"He just can't help being an idiot is that what your saying?"

"I guess I is." Gin chuckled. "Ya still wan tha boxes at yours?"

"I do."

"Tis something I ain't thought to ever see ya know?"

"What pray tell is that?"

"Getting housey wit a mate." Aizen waited quietly, Gin would always expand on his thoughts if left dangling long enough. Sure enough a moment later he continued. "But wid a lame un?"

"Agreed, his condition has forced my hand, but my mind was already clear on the fact that I would never let Kurosaki go." The thought had only entered his mind when stepping out into the sunshine from his office building, its heat warning his face, the sun outshone by a beautiful orange glow from beside the road, grinning like a Cheshire cat helmet clutched to his chest as he leaned nonchalantly against his powerful bike.

Behind it all the backdrop of a lorry beginning to lose control.

Three seconds at most, that's all the eye contact they shared. But it had been enough as far as Sosuke was concerned for his fate to be set in stone. Whatever had befallen them in the many following years would be taken in its stride. It was a breath-taking idea that still made a rush of adrenaline flush through his guts. If he looked, and he wasn't going to, he knew his hands were at this moment shaking with the thrill of just thinking about 'his boy' as Gin had christened him.

"Possessive as always ne?"

"Very."

...

His nose was possibly the first sense to wake. It smelled something new, manly. A touch of musk that lingered in body sweat, a hint of some cheap cologne and a last tinge of mint. It wasn't Aizen.

"Hello?" Ichigo pulled himself up in the bed a little way, just enough to not feel like he was laying down. Stark, wrinkled his nose at the sound that wanted to wake him. "Who is it?"

"Erm?" His sleepy voice entered the silence, his coat and trousers giving a muffled sound as he shifted from his slumped state. "Oh man." Stark grumbled scrubbing his bristles and giving off tiny rustling sounds.

"You a patient?" Ichigo asked confused as to why someone would sleep here other than him.

"Me?" Stark let out a rumbling chuckle. His deep voice was friendly. "I'm your therapist."

"Really?" Ichigo rose his hidden brows.

"Yeah. Hired by none other than Aizen Sosuke. You know him?"

"Do you?" Ichigo countered.

"Kinda. Used to work for him."

"Me too."

"Yeah?" Stark frowned. "Don't remember ya."

"Not there long."

"Long enough to get The Aizen Sosuke on ya case." Stark whistled.

"You don't sound like a therapist."

"Nah." Everyone had said that and worse since Stark lost all his life savings trying to qualify. He didn't look the part, sound the part nor act it. He couldn't get a job or keep it since either. People just didn't seem to get the whole Stark thing. "Stark." Ichigo heard the man move towards him, his boots squeaked as he walked and then a firm hand took his hand and shook it. The older man felt the clammy heat radiate off Ichigo's skin. "Man you're shit hot."

"I beg your pardon." The not so amused voice of Aizen dripped into Starks veins like ice. Didn't seem he was going keep this job either. He let go of Ichigo's hand and stepped back as if burned.

"Sosuke!" Ichigo broke the tension.

Stark watched as the imposing figure of Aizen Sosuke, the enigma, tread lightly across the room and encase the youth in a tender embrace. Their lips fastened lightly, just breathing ghostly against each other. There was a force here that every human craved, not everyone attained but these two clearly had.

"It seems Stark is correct, you are very warm."

"No, no." Ichigo shook his head. "Cold."

"Have you rested?" Aizen made some gesture of adjusting the covering.

"Is there anything else to do?" He asked feeling Aizen's large hands touching his brow and pushing the untidy strands of wet hair off his face.

"I believe that when you are feeling better, Stark will be able to aid you in that."

Well life did throw curve balls and Stark was riding the arc right now. Aizen had spent an intense hour, being loved up with Ichigo one minute and shooting him the darkest of warning glares he'd ever been privy too.

Aizen's fingers were almost hypnotic as the water dripped from them into metal bowl. He wrung the cloth he'd been using and swept it over Ichigo's damp skin, cooling his brow with such soft and gentle dabs. It was a job Stark assumed would be too demeaning for this man, but he seemed to get a great deal of pleasure from it if the way he was genuinely smiling was anything to go by. For his part, Ichigo slept lightly, lulled by the cloth as it dampened down his hot burning skin. His head shifted almost imperceptibly as the cloth moved down his neck and onto his bared chest. His rib cage heaved with heavy, long, laborious breaths that Stark looked too alike those from the parting throws of climax, but in this case brought on by his condition.

"Beauty is not only found daubed in paint or forced out of stone." Aizen's voice whispered as not to break Ichigo's sleeping spell.

"No." Stark agreed then swallowed hard by the intense gaze the powerful man gave him. Maybe that had been the wrong answer.

"Listen to me well." It was said as a statement but Stark nodded just as he knew he was meant to. "I have let you into my private life, on the very clear understanding you know what is expected of you." Oh Stark knew that any involvement with Aizen meant you had to loyal, confidential and bloody good at what you did. Stark had been with Aizen from the very first days of Los Noches and he'd been party in some of the very underhand way things had been done back then. Kneecaps aplenty had been sacrificed so this man could tread the path he did now.

"I understand."

"Just how far are you prepared to go for this task?"

"I gave my daughter to my sister. I think a man giving up his child is quite impressive."

"Only if the man knew he'd never see them again." True, it was only a temporary measure, Stark knew that given six maybe nine months he'd have her back and they would finally be in a financial position to do all those things he'd been struggling for so far. They hadn't had a good time during his training or his unemployment since. Half starving, housed in a rough part of town and buying her things from thrift shops was not the way he had wanted to parent her. But the money Aizen had offered had been worth this period of sacrifice.

"Maybe." Stark shrugged. "But my child is the most important thing in my life. I want to give her everything I can…"

"Then understand what is most important to me."

"I got that bit sorted." Stark's eyes flicked to Ichigo.

"I could make your career." It also implied the reverse was true. Stark gave a solemn nod and sat back in the chair. "Then I best get my sleep, think I'm gonna need it." His head went back and his eyes closed. Aizen, if he'd been any other man would have snorted at the cheek.

...

When Stark entered the room the following morning, he squinted at the bright light coming through the sunny window behind Ichigo's bed. Ichigo himself was obviously awake, his head slightly tilted with one hand up in the suns rays feeling the warmth as the hot light hit the bandaged appendage.

"Hey." Stark grunted making an obvious noise at the door and carrying in the rather large carpet bag he had.

Ichigo's hand dropped and he turned his head towards the sound.

"Stark?"

"Yup. How's ya doing?"

"Is it sunny out?"

"Yeah." Stark frowned.

"Oh." Ichigo's head tilted back up to the light a thoughtful look on his face. His hand lifted again and sought out the heat.

"Ichigo?"

"Erm?"

"Can you see the light?"

"I wasn't sure." He answered honestly. "Think it's likely?"

"Well…" Stark let the bag fall with a loud clonk on the floor and he threw his coat over his nice comfy resting seat and grabbed the end of the bed. "….lets find out shall we?"

"Whoa!" Ichigo grabbed the bed underneath him but laughed all at the same time with this fools actions as his bed was about turned and his head grabbed from behind lightly.

"Where is it? Ya can't use ya hand now."

"Stark…do you think, if I can, that…ya know…" The sound of a kicked puppy brought Stark out of his joyful eureka moment. He should have thought this through a little bit first. He let go of Ichigo's head, that had been way too controlling, he could have even compromised Ichigo's movements and given him false hope. He came around the bed and sat on the side.

"What be able to see again?"

"Maybe one day?"

"Oh shoot me Ichigo… I've fucked up already." Stark cursed himself.

"Well?"

"Did you feel the light or think ya saw it earlier?" It was true that the kid had some bandaging over his eyes, but it was lightweight and he saw no reason Ichigo couldn't have seen through the thin fabric.

"It felt warm on my shoulder."

"Right and now?" Stark asked this time with a soft inflection to his voice. He watched as Ichigo took his time shifting his head around. There was no way of feeling the lights hot rays from this side of the room, but the light was flooding the area his bed had been.

"I think…" The kid hesitated.

"Ya guessing?" Stark scoffed.

"No, there's a difference right about there!" Stark smiled glad he had manipulated a more positive answer and the strong pointing gesture.

"Then you deserve a bright golden star on your progress chart kiddo!" Stark ruffled his hair, Ichigo laughed again even with an irriated scowl, even as a kid he'd hated adults doing that to him.

"You trained with kids din't ya?" He chuckled. "I'm not seven."

"Okay so I trained with kids but come on I'm that shit hot ya already can see the light!" Stark made it sound like he was an evangelical preacher and they both laughed. "But ya know…"

"What don't get my hopes up?"

"As I figure it, ya antibiotics have cleared the infection a bit yeah?" Ichigo nodded. "Then the actual scarring on your eyes is healing better too. If there isn't anything wrong with the nerves or the linkage to your brain, that's all that stop ya seeing. So a bit a light would probably filter its way through. Sound reasonable enough?"

"So if I can see light?"

"You might eventually make out shadows, shapes etc so long as they are a contrast of light against dark. With the best hope in the world, the best case scenario might be a huge block of bright colour might be visible too, worse case…well this is as far as ya get? Yeah?" Ichigo gave a nod as reply and let his head flop back onto the pillow, this was all exhausting again. "Right." Stark patted him on the shoulder. "Today's agenda."

"Agenda?"

"I'm not here to sleep in the corner all day! Just most of it." He added at the end making his client smile again. "Every day, we'll start with checking your healing on your hands and face, I'll give you a massage and then we get ya washed and dressed. Then playing by ear, we'll do some stuff on sensory perception, building your awareness, learning some Braille and I might even read you a bed time story." Stark leapt, well as much as a lazy bastard would leap, and got to his bag beginning to rummage around chatting as he did so. "I've had word with the staff and they're going to adjust your diet for me, I've got a handle on wrapping ya bandages and dressing your foot. Soon as ya off that drip we can get ya up and about orienteering you about the place…"

In a pause Ichigo pushed his way in. "You a control freak?"

"Ha-ha, very good!" Stark laughed dryly. "I just happen to believe that ya body is a connected organism. To get you back on your feet, every part of your lifestyle has to be tailored to maximum health. I can't fix your eyes if ya mentally unstable, I can't get ya independent if ya hyped on a crappy diet."

"Do I look like I get to eat crap?" Ichigo patted his firm stomach.

"Nah, but thin doesn't mean healthy. Hell even bodybuilders can be the most unhealthiest shits out there. I've got a friend Yammy, he's so huge he can hardly move, he eats to bulk, but that crap is just clogging his veins, one day I'm gonna get a call saying he's had a heart attack."

"That's the steroids." Ichigo said dryly.

"Ya met him?" Stark scoffed.

...

Aizen Sosuke was a man used to getting to work early, but he had decided that his morning routine was going to start with Ichigo. He glanced at his watch as he strolled down the corridor, he was in good time to get at least twenty minutes to half an hour before he had to leave. He noted that the blinds were down on the door but it didn't stop him entering. The first thing he noted as he came in was the room had been adjusted, Ichigo's bed wasn't where he was expecting it, the smell of something aromatic curled up his nose, the lighting was dimmed and Ichigo was currently sprawled out almost naked on his stomach moaning in pleasure. He rose an eyebrow at Stark whose hands were roaming up Ichigo's left calf in mid massage.

"Am I interrupting?" Aizen directed the sentence to Stark but it was Ichigo's sleepy voice that answered.

"Yeah."

"I see." Aizen all but snorted as he leant to give his lovers turned face a peck. "Maybe I should have organised you a well built German woman in her mid fifties?" One that resembled a back end of a bus, had the face that scared babies and a body that could have rivalled King Kong.

"All the same to me." Ichigo mumbled half asleep. Of course all the world was equal in the eyes of a blind man. There was no colour distinctions, no size obsession or because this particular blind person was a gay man, no worries about sexual persuasion. An eye for an eye in the words of Ghandi made the world blind - that was possibly not the bad thought the man had intended.

"So?" Stark looked at the once again raised brow directed at him and the threatening glare as the man sat one thigh on the bed and held his partners hand.

"Massage is a therapy."

"Explain."

"It aids blood circulation, moves lymph around the body to aid healing and purification, it sooths and calms the mind." Ichigo answered again tightening his hand on his lovers. "Don't get all shitty. You wanted me to have help." Sosuke hadn't even given Ichigo any credit for understanding his inner workings and maybe that was an oversight on his part. His jealousy had got the better of him, of course he already had a written treatment plan on his desk courtesy of Stark but his mind had not linked it with this amount of Ichigo's skin being on view or in direct contact of the good looking male therapist.

"I can teach you how to do this." Stark offered.

"I think I am well covered in the arts of the bedroom." Aizen closed the conversation with his abrupt tone. He was not happy about the laying of hands upon his property and Ichigo nor Stark, misunderstood his meaning. It was a fine line to keep this professional, but the act between lovers was far more erotic than Stark standing fully dressed beside the bed. If Aizen wanted to strip and climb over his lovers bared legs then that was up to him and done when Stark was not around, he didn't need the mental images of two gay men, he already knew the basics thank you.

"How are you today Ichigo?" Aizen tried to distract his negative thoughts as he soothed the wrist he was holding. Ichigo's fingers brushed back softly and it felt good.

"Better than yesterday."

"I am glad. You do feel a little cooler." Aizen's fingers ran over Ichigo's brow and then smoothed down his nose and over the beautifully shaped lips. Ichigo smiled at the tickle it produced and puckered his lips to kiss the soft tips. "I'm going to the office, but if you need me do call. I will come back once I've finished. Stark will remain here whilst I'm gone okay?"

"Yeah." Ichigo knew his boyfriend intended for Stark to be a babysitter, but he also knew from gauging Stark already, he didn't mind at all. Stark was going to teach him how to be himself again. The man was honest and comfortable to be around which was a rare thing for a gay and straight man in his experience so far - well one that he'd got this intimate with anyway. "I'll miss you." Ichigo kissed those lingering fingers again and they moved to trail through his hair. He moaned in bliss at the dual relaxants. "I could get used to this pampering."

"Therapy." Stark uttered the same time as Aizen.

The rough rhythmical actions kept sweeping over Ichigo's entire body and Aizen found himself captured in a trance longer than he had intended as he watched every single move. He now didn't feel threatened by the personal contact, once he could see that Ichigo was lulled into utter contentment, looking so beautiful without his worried scowl on his face. His twenty minutes lasted into thirty-five by the end of the exotic treatment and he himself had been drawn into a peaceful state as if by hypnosis and found he couldn't get at all concerned at his tardiness.

"I love you." He whispered into the orange locks as he bent to kiss beneath the boys ear. Ichigo smiled and turned his head towards the voice.

"Thank you." Stark turned away and made a big deal of looking as if he was rooting through his bag. The moment felt private and he didn't want to intrude.

"For what?"

"Giving me hope."

"I don't think that credit is mine Ichigo." Aizen glanced at Stark. He expected Ichigo's emotions to be on a roller coaster at the moment and he was glad the new addition to their bizarre family had pushed him towards the nicer end of the spectrum. "I never doubted you." Lips ghosted over his and Ichigo leaned up to add more pressure. Aizen pulled up however, slight regret showing in his eyes that Ichigo would never see. "If I don't stop this now…" He left the rest unsaid and bestowed a peck to the boys nose. He felt that kiss too much, the atompshere was too comfortable and his lover was too naked. Pull up now or give in and he wouldn't risk throwing Ichigo back into his black mood.

"You've done so much for me and I won't ever be able to repay you." Aizen never actually wanted repayment. He did this because he wanted to much like everything else in his life. Ichigo was yet to understand that facet of his personality.

"You have promised to be my princess. That will be payment enough." Ichigo sighed as Aizen's thumb stroked his cheek. Any touch from this man was so desperately wanted and he hated to admit that it showed. "If I don't leave now Ichigo." The tall man uttered for once unable to hide his own longing as his voice took on a huskily lilt.

"I will miss you to." Ichigo whispered and with one last lingering brush of his hand through Ichigo's hair left.