Junction City.

Those flashing lights and churning crowds had a whole different feel this time around. Grimmjow kept his hood up and his head down, but his eyes scanned every face he passed, forever looking for signs of Yuzu or the quincies, but he knew his best bet would be the nerve center of the city.

He stopped a block away from the hotel where he'd fought last time and sank into shadows. He had to know his status before he could get closer. It took three hours before he spotted the young, clean-cut man who'd escorted them around last time.

"Keiran." He intercepted him in the street but forced him to one side, along a row of unoccupied shops where they would be more alone. He had to gauge his reaction in seeing him to know if it would be good or bad.

"Mr. Jaggerjaques," Haido's right hand smiled at him, though it was clear he was waiting for trouble by Grimmjow's stance. "You're back in town for a fight?"

"No." Grimmjow let him go, still being cautious but not seeing what he feared in Keiran's expression. He was in luck, they didn't consider him a salve, maybe didn't even know about the Glads.

"I heard you really killed in the Glads up North."

Nevermind.

"Yeah it was...interesting, but not my style, you know?" he covered.

"So what can I help you with?"

"I need to talk to Haido."

"Ah, you would like an appointment?"

"More like, I need to see him right now."

"Well, Master Haido made it clear he was interested in doing future business with you but I can't take you to him right now. He's in an important meeting. The best I can do is offer you a room until he can speak with you."

Grimmjow's fists clenched but he couldn't push his luck here. He just nodded.

"Great, follow me."

Grimmjow had half a mind to say he'd stop in later and scour the city himself, but he knew Haido was his best bet. Waiting would most likely be the best use of his time after all.

He was wrong.

He knew the moment he stepped in the doors he'd made a mistake. He caught the look that passed between Keiran and one of the muscle-men a second before they were on him.

He was grabbed by each arm but with a quick twist he pulled his arms from his coat and rolled away from them. They tossed his coat to the side and came at him again but now he was ready for them. Guns came out. He ducked and snapped a wrist. The shot went wide and someone in the room screamed and collapsed. The lobby was just as busy as it had been last time—alive with drunks and spectators and anyone interested in anything else unsavoury. People began to scatter in the commotion but Grimmjow could see more men shoving through the crowd to get at him.

A second man shot at him, the bullet whizzed past his ear. The man advanced and Grimmjow barely moved in time to avoid being shot in the face. The shot went off just by his ear and the shock of sound ripped through his skull and stunned him long enough for a fist to catch his jaw. Someone caught him on the stumble and held his arms behind his back. Another fist came into his gut before the barrel of a gun was flush against his skull.

"Don't shoot him!" The voice bellowed through the crowd and everyone went still. Grimmjow lifted his eyes, waiting to see the hulking form of Haido but that was not who parted the crowd.

Cino greeted him with a broad smile. Anger like Grimmjow's hadn't felt since his days as an espada flooded his already adrenaline infused system. But beneath the anger was something else, cold and sickening, spreading through his chest and making his breath quicken. He did not allow that feeling to reach his eyes, however, which remained fixed in a cold, challenging stare on the man approaching him.

"I'm afraid you can't meet with Mr. Haido as there's nothing left of his fat ass after I dethroned him—literally. It was quite a fall for into that pool bottom for a man of his girth."

Cino came to a stop just a few feet from Grimmjow.

"Junction City is mine now, espada. And you are too, remember?"

"No. I remember getting your fucking city burned down and you run out of town you piece of shit."

Cino's face tightened in anger. He drove his fist into Grimmjow's gut hard enough the espada felt his knees give. After a few more strikes he nodded to the man restraining Grimmjow and he was let go to collapse to his knees, wheezing at Cino's feet.

"Feel familiar, espada? It's been too long since you were on your knees before me." He chuckled. Furious blue eyes turned up to him.

"No it doesn't you dickless piece of shit. It's you who should be afraid, 'cause I'm gonna fuckin' kill you."

"You keep saying that, but you never do, Grimmjow. It's me who's going to kill you." He came down with another brutal strike. Grimmjow put out his hands to keep from falling all the way to the ground. "I'm just going to do it very slow."

Another hit. His face was a mess, the room wavering. But he grit his teeth and caught the next fist that came his way.

He and Cino stared each other down for several long seconds before one of his henchmen stepped in and cracked Grimmjow over the back of the skull.

He felt the crusted carpet under his hands and face. He couldn't imagine what he breathed in with shallow breaths—how much filth had been ground into the once royal red carpet.

Then it was sliding past him. Someone had grabbed his ankle. His fingers dug weakly into the carpet. He couldn't stop it. He was barely awake, but when carpet turned to tile he tried a little harder to fight. He managed to kick the man with his other foot but there were a dozen more men waiting to restrain him.

When he stopped moving, it was Cino himself who seized him around the throat and dragged him up.

"I present to you all Grimmjow Jaggerjaques."

Blue eyes swept over the pool room, realizing now how many people there were. A fight had probably just ended and the room was packed—hundreds of eyes to see his moment of utter shame and defeat.

"How shall we punish the slave who betrayed me?"

There were a few shouts, but for the most part, everyone was silent. What were they thinking? What did they think of him?

"A fight," someone yelled. Cino smiled. Grimmjow shut his eyes.

"Yes, that sounds fitting, does it not? Spread the word, it will take place here tomorrow."

"A fight…" Grimmjow hissed.

"Yes, Grimmjow, you'll do what you were made to do."

"Then…you, I challenge you." He got the words out just loud enough that many in the crowd could hear and of course with their repetition, it spread like wildfire through the mob. It was his only play. He could tell these people were not thrilled with Haido's replacement. He tried to smile despite being half strangled in Cino's hold.

But he was once again beaten by the overweight man in his pale suit.

Cino smiled darkly and took two more steps—just enough that Grimmjow felt the gaping space at his back and Cino held him out over the precipice of stained tile. "Challenge accepted."

And he dropped Grimmjow over the edge.

"AHHHH!"

His own scream consumed him, ringing off smashed tile and echoing around him a hundred times. He could barely breathe—he didn't want to breathe—to move and find out just how bad the damage was.

But he already knew despite his best efforts not to see, not feel the ripping, iron hot pain.

His arm was broken.

After all those weeks of healing, it was broken anew.

He had failed.

He was useless now. He was broken and he was going to die in this pit.

"Tomorrow at noon, Grimmjow. Until then, wait for me there. And anyone who wants to see the once famed fighter before he meets his end better come have a look. Because I guarantee, this is the last fight of Grimmjow Jaggerjaque's life."

Cino's voice echoed off the walls like that of a demon. Grimmjow didn't move from where he lay on the blood and piss crusted floor of the ring that had once been his only reason to live.

Grimmjow woke to ice cold water. A relentless spray sloshed over him, soaking his clothes and softening the crusted stains on the pool bottom until an inch or two of murky water surrounded him.

The hose shut off. He sat, despite the groan in his ribs, the horrible pain in his arm.

"See, I told you he was still alive," Cino chuckled. He didn't linger. He must have only come at someone's call, concerned Grimmjow had in fact expired before the fight. The man disappeared from his sight but others lingered, looking down on him like an animal in the zoo. He tried to shout at them but his voice didn't come. His body shuddered in pain and weakness and he gave up. He lowered his eyes and took in his legs. He wasn't sure if they would move or not. He didn't really relish finding out.

"Did he really slave you out up north?"

Grimmjow lifted his eyes again. It was just a spectator. He didn't answer.

"You fuckin' deserve it then if he did."

Not even these words could fuel the heat of his rage when he felt this cold, this ruined. The best he could do was get to a wall so he could sit with his back against it. His legs did work, but not well. There was no place for the water to drain—it was a pool after all. And the ramp leading from the shallow part of the pool was blocked off by a manufactured door—a cage. So he was stuck in the filth, to await his fate.

He dropped his head, begged sleep to come, but the iron gate opened just as he was drifting. He didn't move as the men approached him. The room was empty of watchers now. He wondered if it was close to the fight.

"Get his arm." One man instructed the others. They took his arm—the one that wasn't broken—and dug a needle under his skin. Grimmjow jolted at the burn of liquid in his veins. He felt his heart beat quicken, his sight grew clearer.

"Just so you can put on a good show," the man explained. But he produced another syringe and Grimmjow felt despair when it slipped under. "And just so you don't by chance, get the upper hand." They left him after that. It didn't take long for his renewed vision to blur. He might be able to force himself to stand now, but everything was moving. Things that should look far away were close. Even if he was still the walls seemed to be undulating. So this was it. He was going to go out too high to even know what was up or down.

And that would be the legacy of the last espada.

He hung his head again. If he was going to die, just let it happen. No more games. Just end it. But another voice carried down to him sometime later—perhaps the only voice that could get him to lift his head again.

"You promised."

His hood was up, covering the obvious hair. But it didn't hide those eyes: that look of anger that burned Grimmjow deeper than the drugs or the pain in his body.

He stood.

"I didn't know." He told the black figure above him.

"Of course you did. You came for revenge even though you swore you wouldn't!"

"Kid I swear…" but then he stopped himself. Water sloshed under his staggering feet. He stilled himself and stared straight up at the young man on the pool's edge. "Then leave."

"Grimmjow…"

"There's no way out." He indicated the door, and men were watching. Ichigo would be shot dead before he ever got close. "You have to leave. You're losing time."

"I know." The words dropped heavy and hit hard—almost as hard as Grimmjow had hit the pool bottom.

"Then fuckin' go."

"I will. I have to."

"Save her."

"I will. Good bye, Grimmjow."

He disappeared. Grimmjow continued to stare up at the empty ledge until the door creaked open beside him again men came in, tore the shirt from his back, even the belt from his pants and the boots from his feet—anything he might have used to help him fight Cino. And when they left him alone and half naked, the others came—the crowd, the people jostling to get close and see his end. And then they calmed, Cino made his entrance, his speech. He was decked out in protective clothing, not even hiding his advantage over Grimmjow.

It wasn't about fooling anyone into thinking it was a fair fight. It was about showing them all what happened if they crossed him.

Grimmjow knew he was going to die slow, when he saw the baton, the whip and all the other instruments of pain in Cino's belt. It wasn't going to be a fight. It was going to be an execution, a torturous, bloody one.

His back was against the far wall when the iron gate opened and shut—not because he was afraid, but because he needed its support. Cino sloshed through the shallow water toward him. Grimmjow stared into the eyes of his executioner.

"Do you regret it now? Challenging me?"

"No."

"You will."

He drew the long loop of leather from his belt. Grimmjow had nowhere to go, nothing to defend himself with.

He just shut his eyes, not going to give this man the satisfaction of seeing his true pain.

The whip cracked through the air, but all Grimmjow felt was the splash of water that sprayed back on him in the wake of the weight that had landed in front of him.

"What the Hell?" Cino cried, yanking back on the whip wrapped around the forearm of a young man.

Grimmjow opened his eyes again but the rest of his brain was still working on believing the orange halo of hair ahead of him.

"Looks like the plan went to shit." Ichigo spoke without turning but finally twisted his arm free of the whip.

"Kid…"

"Call me by my name, Grimmjow. I came here to let everyone meet the boy who didn't save them."

Cino had taken several steps back. He looked frantically to the crowd above, most likely wondering where his men were. A second later he got his answer when several men were thrown as unceremoniously into the pit as Grimmjow had been the day before. People in the crowd began to scream and some spectators also toppled in the panic. Ichigo stepped out of the way of a falling body and came to Grimmjow's side.

"But you left…" Grimmjow said when Ichigo got an arm under him.

"What? Grimmjow I just got here. Just hold on, we're getting out of here."

He reached behind him and brought out a gun.

"What are you doing, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow hissed.

"You said it, Grimmjow. This man did terrible things to my sister. He's someone I don't mind killing."

"Ichigo Kurosaki…" Cino was still trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events. He was looking to the rope Ichigo had used to make his descent into the pool, the men with guns and weapons in hand filling in the rest of the ring. Then his eyes locked on one slender form at their fore. "You little bastard."

Grimmjow followed his gaze up to find Keiran, Haido's former assistant.

"Haido was more than just my boss," Keiran said down to him. "I didn't appreciate you killing him."

"You little piece of shit."

"Good bye, Cino. You should have stayed up North." He gave a nod to Ichigo. Grimmjow turned back the young man, face set grimly.

"Is this some kind of deal?"

"Shut up, Grimmjow."

But when the espada saw Ichigo's hand tighten on the trigger he shoved him to the side and the shot went wide. Cino stumbled back in shock at such a close hit. He hurried back toward the bars but they were locked.

"Grimmjow let me do this." Ichigo let go of him. He barely stayed up on his own but made a grab for Ichigo's wrist. "Grimmjow!"

"Kurosaki!" His voice came out harsh enough to get the young man to stop. "Give me the fucking gun."

"What?"

"I said give me the gun." He took hold of the barrel and yanked it from Ichigo's grip.

"Wait…" The iron bars clanked behind Cino as Grimmjow took aim. His hand was shaking, his vision off. He strode forward. "Jaggerjaques—"

"SHUT UP!"

Cino did, still shaking.

The gun came flush with his forehead.

"Jaggerjaques…" he tried again. "Just let me go. I'll reward you, give you back your power, your reputation."

"I don't want it back. I don't want anything from you except your dead body at my feet."

"But—"

"Don't. You fucked up my life, made me a slave, beat me, pissed on me, and made me kill that boy. You made me kill a kid you son of bitch! So why in the fuck do you think I'd hesitate to kill a worthless piece of shit like you?"

His hand wavered. He could barely see. Ichigo called his name at his back but he swallowed it back, straightened and met Cino's eyes.

"I told you I'd kill you."

The shot reverberated off tile walls. The gun splashed to the floor from Grimmjow's weakening grip. But he stood straight and watched that shattered visage as Cino still stared back at him in shock and then the oversized body sagged and dropped in the water, creating one last ripple in this world.

Cino was dead.

"Kurosaki."

Ichigo had been glued to the seen, frozen in place by the intensity of the moment but he saw Keiran giving a nod and realized he'd just been given a warning.

"Grimmjow!" They fell against the wall and Ichigo held them there. The whole pool bottom became alive with gunfire. The men who'd fallen over the side had roused enough to fight back. But they were now fish in a barrel and Keiran's men had the high ground. In under a minute there was silence, though the echo of thunder and the waft of smoke still filled the air. The water at their feet was already dark, but there was no mistaking the fresh wash of crimson in it now.

"What's going on, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow muttered against the tile where his face was pressed. He didn't think he'd be able to stay up if Ichigo backed off now. The other must have sensed this because as he eased back he put his arm under Grimmjow again.

"Keiran found me," he whispered. "He said if I wanted you back, I had to do him a favour."

"Kill Cino?"

"Yeah. He figured it would be better for PR if someone the world already hated did his business for him. That way people in the city loyal to Cino might accept the change of power a little better."

"Okay, great, then what's our exit strategy?"

"Hope Keiran keeps his word and gets us out."

"We're fucked."

But the door opened next to them opened and no one seemed about to attack. If Keiran had wanted to take them out, he would have done it with the others. He certainly wouldn't have let Ichigo scoop the hand gun back out of the water on his way out.

"Where are we going?" Grimmjow asked, head spinning as he concentrated on getting one foot in front of the other. He somehow manage to mess up this simple task and suddenly they were going down.

"Shit what did they give him?" Ichigo was asking but Grimmjow just felt the fire in his arm where it had struck the floor. He groaned in pain, his eyes clamping shut but it seemed there was no time for rest as he was hauled up again. This time it was rougher hands who held him. He caught sight of Ichigo but he was listening to instructions from Keiran and didn't turn back to Grimmjow until they were out a back door and standing in a parking lot.

"Careful," Ichigo admonished the men holding Grimmjow but he turned back again when he heard a roar.

Grimmjow wasn't sure if the car really was moving or if he was still very high but it appeared to come to a stop before them and a door was thrown open.

"This concludes out deal," Keiran stated, sticking out his hand to Ichigo. "He'll get you clear of town, then I never want to see either of you again."

"Deal." Ichigo collected his bag from one of the men and the others dragged Grimmjow to the car.

"I got him." They released him into Ichigo's arms. Grimmjow sank against him once they were in the car. It rumbled to life and Grimmjow noticed that a stranger was in the front seat, taking them out of town.

"Kurosaki…"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you mad?"

"What? Why?"

"…you said you were leaving."

"Grimmjow I don't know what you're talking about. You're drugged. You must be confused."

He thought on this. Maybe it had been a hallucination. But it didn't explain one thing.

"Then how did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I didn't go after Cino."

"Because you gave me your word, Grimmjow."

"…oh."

With that he passed out in Ichigo's hold.