Author's Note:

As always, a shoutout to Kimikozumi, motorcrosszaha, The Crimson Guy, SoulMore, RSK1066, Cinder Fall 39, and honeyMellon for the lovely reviews!

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And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Chapter 12: Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

Ichigo and Grimmjow leapt to their feet, falling naturally into defensive crouches. "What the fuck?" Grimmjow spat. He leveled Pantera's tip at the bloodstained lump, which groaned and raised its head.

Ichigo gasped. "Is that…"

Grimmjow nodded, wrinkling his nose like he'd just bitten into maggot-filled meat. "Yep. Marrok."

"Okay, what the hell is he doing here? And what happened to him?"

"I don't know, and I don't care." Grimmjow took a step closer to the injured arrancar, prodding him with Pantera. The razor-sharp blade added another cut to the dozens on Marrok's broad shoulders, making the arrancar whine under his breath. Grimmjow snorted. "But I'm not complaining." He dug Pantera into the meat of Marrok's shoulder and grinned humorlessly. "Now we can finally get some answers."

Ichigo frowned. "By torturing him?" From the looks of it, someone had already done that. A network of cuts crisscrossed the arrancar's back; his wrists hung at awkward angles. White bone protruded from a nasty break in his left shin, while blood had turned his ivory garments a rusty shade of red. His mask was pitted and cracked, as though splashed with acid, and Ichigo could see more acid burns dotting his limbs. In some places, the muscle had been entirely eaten away, revealing pale bones and tendons.

Ichigo swallowed hard. No one, not even Aizen, deserved this kind of treatment. What sort of monster had done this?

Grimmjow shrugged carelessly. "Nah, torture's a waste of time. If he doesn't talk, I'll just kill him." He forced Pantera's blade in deeper. "What'll it be, Marrok?" He barked a laugh. "Death now, or death later?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, stepping forward and laying his hand over Grimmjow's. "He's unconscious, idiot. Besides, he can't fight back; killing him isn't honorable."

Grimmjow's incredulous gaze spoke volumes about his opinion of Ichigo's view on honor. "Who the fuck cares? He's an enemy! And trust me, I've learned my lesson about leaving enemies alive." A grimace drifted across his face before he shook his head, banishing the expression. "And he's not unconscious. See?" He lightly kicked Marrok in the kidney, and the battered arrancar mumbled a pained curse.

"Okay, enough." Ichigo forced Grimmjow to withdraw Pantera. "We're not going to get any information this way, and we're not killing an unarmed opponent who can't fight back." He took a closer look at Marrok and gritted his teeth. The arrancar's reiatsu was flickering like a candle in a high wind, barely noticeable. "Besides, it looks like he'll die within the hour, anyway, unless we do something." Though I don't know why; an arrancar should be able to heal this. Marrok looked like he'd been dropped into a meat-grinder, but none of his injuries should have been fatal.

Grimmjow spat on the rooftop. "Good riddance." His mouth twisted. "Bet you his own crew did this, too."

Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. "Really? Why would they do that?" The trio had seemed to work together well enough as of the last time he'd seen them; there was no reason for them to turn on each other with Grimmjow still at large.

A low laugh bubbled from Grimmjow's throat as he stared at Marrok's unmoving form. "Hell if I know. But those burns are Arietta's work – one of her damn poisons probably. Or that lightning she can throw, maybe." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter much; it hurts the same either way."

Ichigo shook his head in disgust, lips pressed into a thin line. Every time he thought he'd seen the worst of hollows, they came up with some new depravity.

His hollow snickered. Don't act so shocked. You shinigami are just as bad, if not worse. You think the Sokyoku is merciful? And look at humans! Remember that girl in the park? At least we only kill our enemies – we don't play with our food. It paused, then added, Well, most of us don't, anyway.

Oh, sure, you're all saints, Ichigo retorted.

We're predators, the hollow snapped back. Grimmjow's a predator, too – just look at him. And that's why you want to screw his brains out, because you're one as well. Sure, you think you've got morals and honor and all that crap, but at heart, you two aren't that different. Its tone sobered. We're not monsters, King. You know that.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Most of you are pretty close, though. He knew it was petty, but he couldn't help it. Apart from Nel – and now Grimmjow – he hadn't met a single hollow that he respected. Even the ones with human intelligence seemed perfectly content to act like barbaric, bloodthirsty beasts.

Uncharacteristically, his hollow didn't reply with something snarky. Instead, it took a deep breath, then said, King, look inside yourself. You're half hollow; the arrancar are half shinigami. Is there really that much difference between you? It paused, and Ichigo could hear echoes of Zangetsu's voice in its tone when it continued speaking. You should talk to Juushiro and Shunsui sometime about the hollows they've encountered. They've both lived a very long time, and, from what their zanpakuto spirits say, they may have some surprising insights that would interest you. The blended voices hardened. The world is not painted in black and white, and treating it as such is foolhardy.

As Ichigo opened his mouth to protest, Zangetsu stepped in. Ichigo, what are you truly afraid of? Release your hold on the anger you clutch so close to your chest and listen to your heart.

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Ichigo snapped back, realizing only too late that he had spoken out loud. Grimmjow snickered, but Ichigo ignored him. I'm not afraid, he repeated mentally.

Zangetsu bowed his head. If that is true, then what fuels this anger of yours?

I'm angry at the monsters who would torture one of their own! Ichigo snapped back. Isn't that enough?

Again, Zangetsu nodded. But that is not the only reason you're angry, he pointed out calmly.

The simple comment made Ichigo's temper flare higher. He was in no mood for psychoanalysis, and Zangetsu had an irritating ability to get under Ichigo's skin with his observations. Fine, I'm also mad at Grimmjow for being a total asshole. Happy? he demanded. Experience had taught him that the best way to shut Zangetsu up was to give him what he wanted, which in this case was all too clear.

The old zanpakuto sighed. No, I'm not, because you aren't, he replied soberly. And you will continue to be unhappy until you face the truth.

Yeah? What truth is that? Ichigo spat.

The truth staring you in the face, Zangetsu replied with a maddening lack of emotion.

That's not a fucking answer! Ichigo snapped, out of patience. He just wanted a simple straight answer – was that too much to ask?

Zangetsu sighed. Ichigo… Uncharacteristically, he hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. I am not sure that I approve of the former espada, he mused, sounding like he was almost talking to himself. He is brash and arrogant, not to mention rude and reckless. But he… Zangetsu paused again, and Ichigo had to bite his tongue to prevent a scream of frustration from escaping his lips. At last his zanpakuto murmured, Just look at his actions, not his words, and you'll see the truth of his feelings for you.

Ichigo's shoulders slumped in disappointment. For a moment, it had truly sounded like Zangetsu was going to say something useful, but no – it was just more of the same cryptic bullshit. That's still not a bloody fucking answer, he bit out. Unless you have something better to tell me, you can just shut up. He waited a few moments, heart in his mouth, but Zangetsu just sighed wearily.

Ichigo growled a curse under his breath and opened his eyes to find Grimmjow watching him curiously. "You were talking to yourself," the espada pointed out bluntly.

The substitute shinigami grimaced. "Talking to my zanpakuto, actually." He glanced down at Marrok, who shifted slightly on the gravel rooftop and groaned. "As much as I hate to admit it, they had some good points." Mixed in with all the bullshit and non-answers.

"They?" Grimmjow propped a hand on his hip, keeping his gaze focused on Ichigo though Pantera still pointed unwaveringly at Marrok.

"It's a long story." Grimmjow's eyebrows arched up, and Ichigo shook his head. "I'll tell you later. Right now, we need to figure out what to do with Marrok." At the sound of his name, the arrancar twitched, mumbling something incoherent as Ichigo continued, "We can't just let him die." He held up a hand to forestall any protests. "I know he's your enemy, but I don't think he's one of the bad guys – he did save that girl, after all."

"Assuming that was actually him," Grimmjow interjected.

Ichigo glared at him. "Fine, he probably saved that girl. Happy?" Grimmjow favored him with an insouciant grin, and Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Anyway, he might have valuable information."

Grimmjow shrugged, rolling his shoulders in a loose, fluid motion. "Fine. But you'd better do something soon; his reiatsu is almost gone."

Ichigo's hand went to his hip, groping for a pocket before he remembered that he was in his soul form. His cell phone was in his jeans, which were on his physical body, which was hopefully – assuming Kon had obeyed him – staying out of trouble. He grimaced. "Dammit. Grimmjow, could you…"

As he trailed off, Grimmjow snorted. "I'll watch Marrok. You go get the woman."

"Her name is Orihime," Ichigo muttered.

Grimmjow barked a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go get her already!"

As Ichigo vanished into shunpo, Grimmjow let Pantera's tip drop into the gravel and regarded Marrok with a twisted smile. It was pitiful, really, to see such a strong opponent in such dire straits – the arrancar could barely move.

Pantera chuffed a laugh. Remind you of anyone? Her low, silky voice, absent from his mind while she healed, was a balm against his soul.

Grimmjow shrugged, dropping into a cross-legged seat on the rooftop next to Marrok. Not really.

Not even Ichigo, after Ulquiorra ripped his heart out? she purred slyly.

Don't tell me you think he's right to heal him, Grimmjow groaned. From a tactical perspective, it made sense – they needed information about the trio's plans, and they couldn't get it if Marrok never woke up. But leaving him alive after interrogation was the height of stupidity. Look at what had happened when he left Arietta alive after their battle! If he had just killed her then, they wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

I think that the shinigami is good for you, she retorted, curling her tail around her paws as she settled into a dune within his inner world. You should listen to him sometimes.

Grimmjow hesitated. There had been an odd note in her mental voice that he couldn't quite interpret. So… He paused. You approve of him?

If she didn't, he didn't know what he would do. She had been his only companion after the death of his mate and cubs, the only thing that kept him sane when he would have gone on a killing spree in search of revenge. She had instead urged him to grow stronger, to accept Aizen's leash until his strength was sufficient to strike out on his own. Even after the deaths of his fraccion, she had counseled patience, and she had been right – he had gotten another shot at Ichigo, and that was all he had wanted at the time.

Pantera's golden eyes narrowed. You are happier with him than without him, she said finally, tail twitching restlessly. He is more than just a playtoy to you; he might, in time, be a partner. So yes, I approve.

Grimmjow wanted to protest, to deny that Ichigo meant anything to him, but he couldn't lie to the spirit that shared his soul. So he grimaced. He's a shinigami, though, he pointed out in a dry tone.

She snickered at him. And what do you think you are? I hate to say it, love, but most hollows don't have someone like me in their minds. A low purr rumbled from her chest as he made a face. Face it – you two have a number of similarities.

Grimmjow ran his fingers down Pantera's blade, ignoring the slight burn as the edge sliced open his fingertips. The cuts sealed instantly as he heaved a sigh. You don't think it's, well, a bad idea? He made a halfhearted attempt to hide his trepidation, but he knew that Pantera could sense the things he left unsaid.

She shrugged, sending a wave of fur rippling down her spine. It's not up to me, she pointed out. He rolled his eyes at her, and her mouth gaped open in a silent laugh. Fine. No, I don't think it's a bad idea. You need a pack, after all; you've been alone for too long. Her tone sobered. Don't let the deaths of your fraccion and family scare you away from the shinigami boy.

Hey! Grimmjow retorted, stung. Who says I'm scared?

Ichigo said much the same thing, for much the same reason, Pantera retorted, and Grimmjow winced. It had seemed funny when Ichigo had blurted that out; it wasn't so amusing to be on the receiving end of it.

Did you plan this? he demanded irritably. Then he paused. Wait, how could you? Can you talk to other zanpakuto? Aizen had never mentioned anything of the sort, but then the man hadn't taught them much of anything. After showing them how to access their resurrection, he'd let them experiment, rewarding those who figured out new tricks and punishing those who failed to get stronger.

Grimmjow made a face. Ulquiorra, of course, had been the best student, never failing to earn Aizen's praise. Grimmjow hadn't done badly, but even his best efforts hadn't topped Ulquiorra's achievements. Stupid bat.

You're alive, and he's dust, Pantera snorted, acid in her tone. And stop trying to change the subject.

Then answer the question, he demanded. Can you talk to other zanpakuto or not? And, if not, how did she know so much about Ichigo? Although zanpakuto spirits could ordinarily see out of their masters' eyes, she had been in a healing coma since the battle with Nel – she shouldn't know anything about the substitute shinigami who'd captured Grimmjow's imagination.

Pantera smirked at him. What do you think? Then, when he growled at her, she relented. Yes, we can converse, at least some of the time. It's easier when the wielders have a strong emotional bond – which is why I know that he's good for you. She rolled her eyes. Though that creature inside him needs a lesson in manners.

Grimmjow rocked backwards, stunned. Wait, you mean you really can talk to other zanpakuto? Why didn't you say something before? If he'd known that, he might have been able to figure out Ulquiorra's weaknesses.

Because there wasn't a reason to, she snapped. Like I said, it's easier when the wielders are close to each other, and it's not like you had a lot of close companions among the other espada. She wrinkled her nose and rose to her feet, prowling down the dune in his inner world. Besides, the zanpakuto spirits of your fraccion were simply annoying; I had no desire to talk with them.

Grimmjow chose to ignore that in favor of the more important question. So, how much have you been talking to Ichigo's zanpakuto? he bit out.

Pantera sniffed at his grumpy tone. Not much, really. I haven't told him anything secret, if that's what you're worried about.

That's not… dammit, what have you told him? Grimmjow had no idea what Pantera would consider secret, but he didn't trust his zanpakuto's judgement around that particular issue – after all, she had no problem probing him on every topic under the sun, no matter how much he told her that some things were private.

Pantera flicked her tail in casual dismissal. Just that you, contrary to all appearances, actually do care about the boy. Though you have an awful way of showing it. She snorted softly. I haven't been awake for that long, love; it's not like I've had that much time to chat.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth. Why did you tell him that? You… He trailed off, unable to think of a way to complete the sentence. Anger fought with relief in his veins as he struggled to come up with something to say, some reason to justify his fury.

When he didn't say anything immediately, Pantera took the opportunity out of his hands. You weren't going to say it, and someone had to, she pointed out.

That's not… Fuck, Pantera, really? I… Again he let the sentence drop. He wasn't mad at his zanpakuto, not really, anyway. She was right – he wouldn't have said anything to Ichigo. And maybe it would be better this way, assuming that the substitute shinigami didn't turn around and laugh at him for his foolish, un-hollow-like emotions. Then again… He really had no guarantee on that. Ichigo had certainly seemed plenty angry when he'd stumbled across Grimmjow – what if he didn't want anything to do with him?

Grimmjow shook his head, dismissing the thought. He was no fluff-brained girl, to fret over a lover's affections; he was a fucking espada, king of the desert. "I am king, you hear me!" he snarled at Marrok's limp form. "King!"

Pantera rolled her eyes. You are an idiot, she informed him crisply.

Before Grimmjow could retort, a surge of reiatsu distracted him. He glanced up to see Ichigo bounding over the rooftops, Orihime cradled in his arms as if she was a delicate princess that he'd just rescued.

A low growl bubbled in Grimmjow's throat. As Ichigo landed, he rose and sauntered over to the teen, not-so-casually brushing his arm against Ichigo's shoulder after he set Orihime down. "So, can you heal him?"

Orihime, unfazed by Grimmjow's brusque tone, took a hard look at Marrok, then smiled and nodded. "I should be able to, no problem!" She tapped the flower clip pinned to her chest and the golden glow of her magic materialized, zooming over to envelop Marrok in a shimmering bubble. "It won't take long at all."

Grimmjow snarled audibly when she turned her megawatt smile on Ichigo. "Don't you have to watch him?" he snapped, stepping a bit closer to the substitute shinigami.

Orihime glanced between the two of them, eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then a curious expression passed over her face. Pink rose to her cheeks as she blinked, then grinned. "I guess it can't hurt." To Grimmjow's surprise, she sounded pleased about something, and he didn't think it was related to the healing.

He didn't have time to question it, though, as she turned and trotted over to Marrok before he could make his brain form a coherent question. As soon as she knelt down next to the injured arrancar, Ichigo sighed, "Okay, what was that about?" He kept his voice low in an attempt to prevent Orihime from overhearing, but Grimmjow could still hear his annoyance.

The sexta espada shrugged, then nudged Ichigo with his shoulder. "Nothing." His temper had cooled as quickly as it had flared, and he wasn't about to explain the sudden spike of anger to Ichigo – he didn't even understand it himself.

Yes, you do, Pantera chided patiently. If you'd stop lying to yourself, this would be a lot easier.

What do you know about it? he snarled mentally.

She huffed and lashed her tail, golden eyes flaming with irritation. More than you do, clearly! Now apologize to the shinigami for disrespecting his friend. Her tone brooked no disagreement.

Grimmjow hung his head, exhaling heavily. "Sorry," he muttered, almost too softly to hear. Satisfied?

She shrugged, and he got the sense that she was laughing at him. Better. Now tell him why you were mad so you can kiss and make up.

Now that was going too far. Grimmjow was willing to listen to Pantera when she made sense, but admitting that he had been mad because of how Ichigo had been carrying Orihime? That was just plain stupid. The shinigami would think he was a total moron for feeling that way, or – worse – think he was weak.

He knows that you're not weak, his zanpakuto interjected wearily. But if you want to maintain a relationship with him, you're going to have to work at it and not blow up at everything. Sometimes, that means explaining why you're mad.

How do you know so much about relationships, anyway? Grimmjow demanded, out of patience. You're a part of me!

Not… She hesitated. Precisely. I'm a part of you, but I'm also separate. She tipped her head to one side, staring up at the moon in his inner world – unlike the one in Hueco Mundo, it was always full. I don't think Aizen intended it to be this way; I think he simply wanted the zanpakuto to be receptacles for the arrancar's power. But… Do you remember Lilynette? She was Starrk's zanpakuto, but she was also her own person. He was a unique case, but in some ways that's how all zanpakuto are. She shook her head, ruffling her fur. But that's not important right now. Stop talking to me and talk to your boyfriend, dammit!

If he didn't obey, she would kick him out of his inner world – she'd done it before, when he got too depressed, and her tone threatened to do so again. So he pulled his attention back to the living world, where Ichigo was waiting with an impatient look on his face. "Well?"

Grimmjow took a deep breath. "Ididn'tlikeitwhenyoucarriedOrihime," he blurted out in a rush.

Ichigo blinked at him. "What?"

"I didn't like it when you carried Orihime," Grimmjow muttered, slower this time.

Ichigo scowled, then his eyes lightened. He glanced over at Orihime, who was engrossed in her healing, then looked back at Grimmjow. "That's…" He shrugged. "Oh, screw it."

Then, before Grimmjow could react, Ichigo grabbed the espada's collar and yanked him into a kiss. For a second, Grimmjow was too stunned to respond, but that didn't last long. As Ichigo pulled him closer, Grimmjow snarled and thrust his tongue into the teen's mouth. Ichigo gasped.

When he finally broke the kiss, the substitute shinigami's lips were slightly swollen and his face was flushed. "Better now?" he asked dryly. Then, before Grimmjow could respond, he went on, "Listen… I like you. I won't say you're mine, though my hollow wants me to, but…" He paused and swiped a hand over his face. "Well…" His face turned redder as he struggled to find the words.

Grimmjow took a deep breath. "I…" He swore under his breath. "Fuck it, Ichigo… I like you too, alright?" A snarl threatened to rise from his throat as he grabbed Ichigo's hips and yanked him in so they were nose to nose. "If you won't say it, I will – you're mine, Kurosaki." He practically growled the last words. In the back of his mind, Pantera cheered.

Things might have gotten rather heated had Orihime not coughed politely. "Um, guys?" She held up her hand like a student asking for their teacher's attention. "You… might want to come over here." Her cheeks were bright pink, but she managed to keep a straight face as she gave them both a smile.

"What is it, wom… uh, Orihime?" Grimmjow demanded irritably, releasing his grip on Ichigo's waist. Ichigo gave him an approving look.

She gestured for them to come closer. "Look. He's healing, but not nearly as quickly as he should." As they strode over to her, she frowned thoughtfully. "And I can feel traces of foreign reiatsu in his bloodstream – they're especially strong around his worst wounds, though they've spread throughout his body. It's as if the reiatsu is a virus that's attacking his immune system." Her frown deepened as she glanced up at Grimmjow. "And you know what's even weirder? It's the exact same power that I sensed in you when I was healing your shoulder."

Grimmjow knelt next to Marrok, scowling at the orange glow over the arrancar's body. He couldn't see clearly, but it looked like Marrok's smaller wounds had closed. But the worst burns and cuts still gaped, white bone gleaming obscenely through slashed muscle. "What do you mean, the same reiatsu? How is that possible?"

Orihime rested her hands on the shield, sending more power into it. "I don't know, but it's definitely the same."

Ichigo scowled at the unconscious arrancar, but addressed his next remark to Grimmjow. "Didn't you say that his injuries were caused by Arietta?"

Grimmjow nodded, then shrugged. "Most of them, anyway. The acid burns? Those are hers, for sure. Some of the puncture wounds are probably from Kinderras's sai, though; Arietta's zanpakuto takes the form of a scimitar." He gestured towards one particularly deep wound. "See that? That's no scimitar blow." The broad, curved blade that Arietta wielded was a slashing weapon, not a stabbing one. But Kinderras's sai, which resembled miniature tridents with an elongated center prong, were perfect for jabbing through skin and muscle.

Ichigo spread his fingers out over Orihime's shield as he leaned in for a closer look. "Okay, so Kinderras did some damage too. But, if the main injuries were caused by Arietta, wouldn't it make sense for the reiatsu to be hers as well?"

Orihime started at that. "This Arietta – you said she caused the acid burns? How?"

Grimmjow made a face. "She's got all sorts of nasty tricks up her sleeve," he snarled. "Acid, poison, various alchemical substances… she's almost as bad as Szayel with that stuff." It was a cowardly way to fight in his opinion – what sort of warrior used potions to beat their enemies? It was cheating, nothing more.

Unexpectedly, Orihime smiled. "That makes sense," she murmured, peering down at Marrok. "I bet she gave him a poison to slow down his natural healing, and I bet she did the same thing to you. See how all of his lesser wounds are gone? It's as if the poison, or kido, or whatever, is concentrated around the worst ones, preventing them from closing while ignoring the ones that could never be fatal."

"But she never gave me anything," Grimmjow objected.

Orihime shook her head. "She wouldn't have to. I bet her body produces that sort of poison naturally, as a defense against predators. You must have ingested it when you fought her – you ate a piece of her wing, right?" Grimmjow nodded reluctantly as Orihime continued, "It must not activate until you get seriously wounded, when it has the best chance of killing you."

"It's an ingenious defense."

All three of them jumped. Grimmjow was the first to recover from his surprise, spinning and stabbing Pantera into Urahara's face. "Don't do that, shinigami!" he spat.

Urahara leaned on his cane and smiled casually. "Truly, it's ingenious," he remarked, ignoring the sword tip an inch away from his nose. "It must be modeled on the poisons of poison arrow frogs and other such creatures, but it's a distinct upgrade."

Ichigo put a hand on Grimmjow's arm and guided Pantera down. "What do you want, Hat and Clogs?" he demanded.

Urahara's expression sobered. "I think I know what your friends are planning," he announced.

"They're not my friends," Grimmjow interrupted.

The former captain ignored him. "But, first, since you have one of them here, I'd like to hear what he has to say." Urahara's lips twitched. "Good job finding him, by the way."

"He kinda landed in our laps," Ichigo muttered, tone laden with frustration. Grimmjow could sympathize – were they never going to get a moment of peace? Not that he had truly been enjoying their conversation before Marrok had fallen out of the sky, but it was the principle of the thing.

Orihime, who had returned to her healing as soon as she recognized Urahara, glanced up. "I think he's stable," she told them all, summoning her power back into her hairclips. "He'll need more care, but I think I'll overstress his systems if I try to heal him all at once – that poison of Arietta's is nasty. It'll be better if it works its way out of his system over time." Her voice was calm and confident despite Grimmjow's increasingly irritated glare, but he could sense a thread of nervousness in her reiatsu. He took a step backwards.

Urahara tapped his cane on the ground. "Can you wake him up?"

Before Orihime could respond, Marrok twitched and groaned. Slowly, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, he raised his head. "What… where…" His eyes fastened on Grimmjow and he bared his teeth. Though his reiatsu flickered alarmingly, he forced himself into a sitting position. "What did you do to me?"

Grimmjow huffed. "Ungrateful much? We healed your ass, moron." He chose to ignore Ichigo's eye-roll at his tone.

Marrok's head swung around. "What?" His hand groped along the ground, searching for his zanpakuto. When it came up empty, he growled, "Where's Ursus?"

Grimmjow shrugged negligently. "Don't know, don't care. What the hell are you doing here?"

Orihime shot him a quelling look and reached out towards Marrok, who stared at her hand like he'd never seen a human limb before. "Ignore him," she urged. "You're safe now. What happened to you?" She offered him a gentle smile, eyes bright and inviting.

"I…" Marrok coughed, doubling over and holding his ribs. Fresh blood spattered his already-stained garments as the hacking went on and on, but he waved away Urahara's offer of a water bottle. "Kinderras," he finally managed. "Bastard…" His eyes lit on Ichigo, and his reiatsu flared with fear. "They…" Coughing interrupted him again. "They… have them."

"Have who?" It was Urahara who asked the question that was on all of their minds.

"Can't… hurt…" Marrok took a shuddering breath. "Cubs." Ichigo's brows rose, and the battered arrancar managed a faint smile. "Not all… evil… you know."

It wasn't an answer to Urahara's question, but Grimmjow could sense that Marrok's mind was wandering. If he'd been in the desert, the scent of that broken reiatsu would have made him tantalizing prey, but Grimmjow restrained himself. The dazed confusion was probably due to Arietta's poison, anyway, and Grimmjow had no desire to ingest it again. Still, Marrok's mention of cubs had him on edge. "What cubs?" he snapped.

Marrok's head fell forward, then drifted back upright. "Yours…" he murmured, staring right at Ichigo. "The little ones… in house…"

"Yuzu! Karin!" Ichigo exclaimed, eyes widening with panic.

Urahara laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Ichigo; you'll get them back." He turned to Marrok. "Is that right? Arietta and Kinderras have Ichigo's sisters?"

Marrok nodded slowly. "And… older man. Arietta…"

Ichigo bared his teeth, reiatsu flaring into a maelstrom around him. "Fuck!" He spun on his heel to face Urahara. "Get us to Hueco Mundo, Hat and Clogs," he demanded hotly. "Now!"