So, thanks to my betas, B, and especially Q, for pointing out some serious problems with this chapter (but, I hope you like the finished product!)


It had been five days alone, since Grimmjow'd been called away. If Ichigo counted the half-day he'd spent waiting in his bedroom for the prick to come back-which Grimmjow never had-and Ichigo definitely counted that day, not liking being made to wait. Five days was a forever in Hueco Mundo normally; twice as worse without Grimmjow to distract him. Whenever Ichigo had started to miss the fucking prick was exactly the same moment that he realized he was in seriously deep shit.

He shivered a bit. The new uniform-top Nel had found to replace the one Grimmjow had effectively shredded wasn't his favorite, being sleeveless. Almost more of a vest than anything else. Ichigo had zipped it down the front, but his arms were left bare, and the corridors were hardly warm.

Nel made the other Espada's absence sound like just another routine mission, the same as going out into the desert to find other hollows for the arrancarization process, but Ichigo had a hard time believing Grimmjow would be stuck in the real world without reason for so long. It made him worry, and Ichigo hated that. The stupid prick was most likely off caught up in some unending bloodlust, the type that made it easy to forget about anything else, particularly where Grimmjow was concerned.

Ichigo knew if that were the case, it'd mean that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were likely engaged against the very people Ichigo was allied with. Time had seemed stagnant for ages, like the entirety of existence was limited to himself and Grimmjow. But here, the arrancar could be cutting down his friends at this very moment, or for the last several days, and Ichigo remained trapped: powerless, unable to assist his friends or to stop their attackers. What the fuck had he been thinking, getting it into his head that it was more important to fuck Grimmjow, or at least make the arrancar understand what Ichigo wanted, when Ichigo could've been preventing what he knew what going on in the mortal realm. Someone was going to die-it didn't seem to matter to him whether it was Grimmjow or one of his friends, and that alone made Ichigo worry for his own sanity-but it was going to be his fault; he could've spent his time more effectively but he hadn't.

If nothing else, Grimmjow's excursion to the real world was all the evidence Ichigo needed to prove a theory: there was a sure way out of Hueco Mundo; Ichigo just needed to find a way to make a hole between the dimensions. From what Grimmjow and Nel had told him, earlier-that Aizen had sealed off Hueco Mundo entirely-Ichigo had begun to doubt that he could make an escape through a garganta, with his powers limited as they were. But it was possible, and that was all the motivation he needed. Ichigo could escape-he had to. He'd stupidly turned to Grimmjow in the hope of exploiting the arrancar's ability to open portals, but with him gone, Ichigo knew he only had himself to rely on. He'd get out of this place, even if he had to take a fucking spoon and dig through the walls until he was free.

He hated that he'd spent so much wasted time on his own interests, though. Other people would pay the price for his foolishness-they could be doing so now, and all because Ichigo hadn't kept his priorities at hand. Ichigo knew he'd have to face his friends knowing that, and the dread he felt at that notion was almost worse than the multiple possibilities of what could be happening in the days Ichigo spent alone. Grimmjow had indeed turned him into exactly what Ichigo hated and feared most: he was a coward now, unable to stop things from happening, and too enthralled to prevent them in the first place. What was it about that asshole that dragged Ichigo towards him like no other? He wished it was some outside force-something that Aizen had created between them to make him behave the way he did; anything for Ichigo to absolve himself. And that was the most cowardly part of all.

He could correct that immediately, and spent the majority of Grimmjow's absence concentrating on his own reiatsu. Ichigo had never been good at sensing such things, but he struggled with it now, determined to find exactly where Zangetsu was held within Las Noches-if he could find his sword, break the seal on it and regain his abilities, he didn't need Grimmjow at all. Ichigo sat in his room, eyes clenched and concentrating until he gave himself a headache, but little came of it: if Zangetsu was locked away somewhere, the seal upon it might be preventing his searches. Or, even worse, the seal was never on his sword at all, but inside him-Ichigo had begun to wonder if this were the case. In the past, even when he didn't have his sword in his hand, he was still able to at least sense his shinigami powers. Now, there was...nothing. Like a gaping hole in his chest; it made him shiver to think what that implied.

Yet another defeat, especially in the face of determination, was twice as disheartening than the shame Ichigo had felt before. But when Grimmjow returned, Ichigo spared only a moment's thought for what could've been left in his wake-the potential dead or maimed shinigami, his friends especially-and hoped once again that the immediate draw to the other man was due to anything other than his own primal attraction. Ichigo simply didn't operate like this, he couldn't remember ever being so attached to one other person at the expense of everyone else. Maybe that was why he'd never bothered in the first place. Maybe, being alone and isolated as he was, with only Grimmjow as steady company, it was the only way things could've happened like this in the first place. With more distractions, Ichigo knew he'd never have been so foolish. He was lost and alone here; he didn't like what it'd turned him into, but he couldn't escape or excuse things even if that were the case.

Whatever Grimmjow and Ulquiorra had run into in the real world had landed them in the infirmary. Easy mission by Nel's standards or not, it was clearly dangerous enough to leave them incapacitated. Ichigo could feel the strength of the Espada's reiatsu growing in his mind as he hurried down the corridor, and knew he should've been heartened by that. His friends were strong. No doubt they could protect themselves adequately, even in his absence; he had faith. But Ichigo always held more confidence in certainty, the type he could see or ensure with his own hands.

He rounded a corner and forced himself to walk at a normal pace, reaching the medical unit in no time, though it seemed to take forever. He stopped abruptly in the entry way, as though he'd walked straight into a wall.

"Shit, what happened?"

"You should see the other guy!" Grimmjow grinned from where he was sprawled out on an infirmary bed, naked except for his tattered hakama, rust-soaked and filthy. He looked unbalanced and awkward somehow, and it took Ichigo a moment to realize that it was due to only having one leg.

"What the fuck did you do to yourself, asshole?" Ichigo demanded; his legs were moving of their own volition as he came to a stop beside the other man.

Grimmjow pulled himself into a sitting position, a wide smile still plastered across his face. "I didn't do anything, okay? It's this dumbass's fault"—he jerked a thumb in the direction of Ulquiorra, who was laid out on a similar bed. His eyes remained closed and his face unmoving. Ichigo couldn't see any immediate damage to the other Espada, but that didn't mean much. "And I don't even know what you're so pissed about, fuck. This's nothing."

"Your leg's missing!"

"No it ain't, got it right here," Grimmjow said, and slapped his disembodied limb, which was lying on a table beside him, amongst innumerable medical instruments. It had an ashen, waxy look to it, and had been severed around mid-thigh.

"Fat lot of good it does you over there, dipshit." Ichigo folded his arms crossly, and glared while Grimmjow continued to smirk in response. The arrancar looked entirely too pleased for the situation.

"Aw, what? You worried about little ol' me? You can say that, I don't mind."

"I know better than to waste concern on you," Ichigo snapped. But he leaned forward swiftly, not giving Grimmjow a moment to react as he pressed their lips together, tasting the other man's mouth with a brief sweep of his tongue. He'd missed it, and hadn't been able to get it off his mind in all the days since. Grimmjow had the sweet flavor of something forbidden, something Ichigo knew he shouldn't have but what he couldn't keep himself from taking.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Grimmjow murmured, and snagged the front of Ichigo's shirt, bringing him back. He nipped at Ichigo's bottom lip before taking his mouth, and Ichigo let himself sink forward until their foreheads rested against one another. "Miss me, huh?"

"Don't be stupid." But Ichigo drew a hand through the arrancar's hair, holding his face close.

"You can say that too, y'know. I missed you."

Something fluttered in Ichigo's stomach, and he wasn't sure what it was. He shivered and his brows knit; they were so close, with their faces together like this. "I—"

"No. Not in my presence," Ulquiorra's voice interrupted him. "You will cease."

Ichigo hadn't even noticed that the other Espada was awake; his eyes still weren't open, but he pointed a single forefinger at the both of them threateningly. Ichigo knew the bastard could blast a cero from only that, and drew away from Grimmjow immediately.

"Che, jealous is an ugly color on you, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow spat.

"And stupidity is a very fitting one for you." The second Espada never opened his eyes, but dropped his arm onto the bed beside him.

"Hn," Grimmjow snorted, and turned back to Ichigo. "Don't pay attention to that asshole, he's just pissed 'cause I won't say thanks for getting us both back here."

"I should not have bothered," Ulquiorra added. "I should have made you crawl back on your own."

"And I only got banged up protecting your sorry ass!"

"I did not require your assistance."

"The fuck you didn't," Grimmjow said, petulantly, glaring at the unmoving mask that was Ulquiorra's face.

It was exasperating, like watching a petty squabble between siblings, and Ichigo turned to face the other Espada, "Thank you, for getting this dumbass back." He turned to glare pointedly at Grimmjow, "Even if it wasn't entirely in one piece."

"Do not speak to me," Ulquiorra said, with complete absence of emotion.

"Yeah, don't bother with him," Grimmjow added. His thumb swept over Ichigo's lower lip before dropping to take Ichigo's hand in his own. "You can speak to me, though."

"Who says I want to?"

"Oh, and I like this," Grimmjow said, tugging at the bottom of Ichigo's new top before drifting up his bare arm to his shoulder. "You should've been wearing this the whole time, it suits you."

"Stop it. You're annoying." Ichigo shrugged the arrancar's hand off of him, glaring.

It drew a smile over Grimmjow's face again, crinkling the corners of his eyes; Ichigo imagined the other man must've lost a lot of blood along with his leg, and blamed the giddy expression on that. "There you go with that grouchy routine of yours again, how long're you gonna keep that up, huh?"

"It's not a routine. I'm pissed, dumbass," Ichigo countered. "And you're the one acting weird, anyway."

"Maybe I'm just happy to see you, ever think of that?"

"I think you're suffering from blood-loss—"

That drew a wild cackle, and Grimmjow was still snickering when he shrugged, "Maybe, prob'ly. But who cares, right? Anything's better than that asshole's company," he nodded at Ulquiorra, and his fingers were twining themselves lazily amongst Ichigo's. "Especially when I knew what I had to look forward to, once I got back here."

"Like you're gonna be able to do much with only one leg," Ichigo muttered. "Is Aizen going to be able to put that back?"

"Sure, why not?" Grimmjow seemed wholly unconcerned, though Ichigo was; losing a limb like that shouldn't have been something that was taken so lightly. But he remembered chopping off one of Yammy's arms once, in their first confrontation, and it had certainly been reattached. Ichigo couldn't imagine the process would be a swift one, and it was annoying, having to wait even longer; he wanted Grimmjow, just as badly as the other man wanted him, it seemed. Fuck, he just couldn't seem to stop, despite how much Ichigo knew he should.

"What the hell happened out there, anyway?" he asked, curious despite himself.

"Nothing much. Didn't see anyone else for the first bit—"

"How long were you gone?"

"Beats me, a day and a half?" Grimmjow shrugged a single shoulder noncommittally.

"It's been almost a week!" Ichigo responded, though it was good to know by some measure how different the time passed between the two worlds.

"Oh, then I guess I really owe you, don't I?" The arrancar leered suggestively, and his thumb rubbed circles against Ichigo's palm. "I don't mind making up for it."

"Concentrate on getting your ass out of the infirmary, idiot. How'd you get yourself put in here in the first place?"

"We got rushed by five of your little shinigami friends all at once, okay? Aizen didn't want us to fight, even if we got jumped—which is bullshit, I might add—"

"I'm sure you deserved it," Ichigo snapped. It all came rushing up in his chest, the sudden reminder-Grimmjow was still the enemy, and Ichigo was still here, stuck on the other side and trapped by the Espada; that was the truth, regardless of any other feelings that had gotten in the way. He hated that he wanted to forget about it entirely.

"Don't worry," Grimmjow smirked arrogantly. "I fucked that asshole up good, the one that took my leg. Only needed one foot to kick his ass!" He patted the corpse-colored limb beside him in what Ichigo imagined was an affectionate manner.

"What did he look like?" He couldn't stop himself from asking; Ichigo needed to know.

"I dunno, he had a lotta tattoos. His sword was a mean piece of work, if you could even call it a sword anymore."

There was a stone sinking inside Ichigo's chest, and his mouth went dry. Renji. "With red hair?"

"Nah, it was dark. What's the matter, friend of yours?"

Hisagi, then; Ichigo didn't know the lieutenant well, but what did it matter? They were on the same side; he and Grimmjow weren't. He and Grimmjow shouldn't have been.

Ichigo knew things would continue like this, with Aizen and his forces attacking people he knew—his friends, possibly—and here he was, fucking around with one of the very people who would be doing the killing. He'd known all of this from the start, and only through willful ignorance had things continued between himself and Grimmjow. Ichigo had become so obsessed with his own primal urges that he couldn't-or wouldn't-pay attention to anything else, no matter how much it mattered. He hated himself in a sharp moment of shame: how could he have gotten so wrapped up in things here, when they'd never matter or amount to anything?

Ichigo realized, starkly, that he'd gotten so far off the path he should've taken that he couldn't even see it anymore. He'd ignored the problem for long enough. But here it was: he was at Grimmjow's bedside, hoping the arrancar would recover quickly, when Ichigo should've spent all this time concentrating on the important things at play—stopping Aizen, escaping, making a difference

He was letting himself be led around by his dick, and by Grimmjow of all people. Disgust crawled in a acidic wave in his throat and Ichigo twisted away. Here he was, hovering over the same bastard that'd trapped him here in the first place, and who still liked to claim ownership over him.

"Hey, what's the matter with you?" Grimmjow had continued talking, though Ichigo hadn't listened. "I came back alright, didn't I?"

"That's not the problem, dumbass," Ichigo snapped, and pulled his hand out of Grimmjow's grip. He shook his head, "Actually, that's exactly the problem."

His stomach twisting itself in knots, Ichigo turned to leave; he had to get away, if only to put his mind back in order. But the arrancar barked after him, "Hey, what the fuck? Get back here!"

"No," Ichigo answered, not even turning. He knew Grimmjow couldn't follow him, not with only one leg, though he didn't entirely put it past the other man.

"What's the goddamn problem?"

"It's not a problem, Grimmjow. It's a reminder. One I sorely needed, so thanks for that," Ichigo said over his shoulder as he went. His hand felt cold after the heat of Grimmjow's against it, and Ichigo hated that he missed it. But most of all, he couldn't stand himself, for letting his feelings clutter up what should've been a simple thing of hating the other man. It would've been easier if he'd never allowed any of this to happen in the first place, and Ichigo resolved to not make the same mistake a second time.


WELL IT IS TIME FOR CHRISTMAS, I HOPE EVERYONE HAS A GOOD HOLIDAY/BREAK FROM SCHOOL! :D :D :DD

A small note on reviews: I don't know if this site is just kinda inherently sucky or what, but I do try to address and respond to reviews (particularly questions) in PMs or 'review responses'. However, I sometimes think I'm just shouting into the ether in doing this, because I rarely get responses back or confirmation that the message is sent...I am not intending to guilt anyone into PMing me, but in case you asked a quesiton or left a review and think I'm a rude bitch for never getting back to you THIS IS WHY :C I just don't think this damn thing works! D: