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"Find Grimmjow and Stark." Ulquiorra ordered, his voice maintaining its calm tone even as he blocked attacks from the Shinigami. "Our cover has been blown; we retreat after grouping together."

Szayel grabbed at Nnoitra's arm, trying to pull him back. "We've got to look for them, Nnoitra!"

"But I want to fight!" Nnoitra gritted his teeth, keeping both hands on Santa Teresa as he swung his weapon toward an enemy. "I'll hold them off while you guys do search and rescue."

"No." Ulquiorra gave him a hard shove in the chest. "You follow Szayel. There are too many of them, and more to come. Can't you detect their reiatsu?"

Reluctantly pulling away from the fight, Nnoitra used Sonido to escape, heading back into the crowded streets filled with unsuspecting humans. Szayel raced after him, shielding his reiatsu to keep from being chased. Ulquiorra had made them leave their gigai in some secluded bushes just as he felt a strong wave of spiritual pressure expand around the town's region. He had guessed right; the Shinigami had already found them and there was nothing to do but fight to the death or fight while retreating.

Grimmjow was exiting the merry-go-round with Ichigo amid a crowd of excited children and their parents. He handed Ichigo the golden coin as he held onto the ticket from the ride. Ichigo's face was practically glowing with happiness, and he dragged on Grimmjow's hand to lead him to a long stall that sold an assortment of sweet delights.

"Candy again?" Grimmjow shook his head and chuckled. "You really have a sweet tooth, there. If you don't watch out all your teeth are gonna fall out and you'll have nothing left to chew things with."

Ichigo's honey brown eyes widened. "No more teeth?"

The Sexta laughed and ruffled his spiky orange hair. "Well, in the long run, it happens to a lot of humans."

"Am I that?"

Taking the small hand in his, Grimmjow led Ichigo to a bench so they could sit down and talk. "What do you mean?"

"Am I a human?"

Tilting his head to the angel on his shoulder, Grimmjow mused as he chewed his bottom lip. "Well, yeah. I guess you are. I mean, before this you were a teenager turned Shinigami, but when we fought you turned from Shinigami into a child. I guess that kind of makes you part human."

Clambering up onto the bench, Ichigo used Grimmjow's knee for support. He seated himself beside Grimmjow and swung his legs; his shoes barely reached the ground from that level.

"Is it good to be human?" Ichigo asked, marveling at the gold coin Grimmjow had given him from the merry-go-round.

Thinking this through, Grimmjow wondered if other children ever asked questions this simple, yet so deep. He turned to look at Ichigo; really look at him, and pondered over the fact that the boy was a curious specimen.

"I don't really know." He confessed, deciding on the truth. "I'm not gonna lie to you; I barely even remember what it's like to be human in my past lives, but from what I've been observing in this time and era . . . there's the good and bad sides of everything."

"Like a coin." Ichigo held up his souvenir with a smile.

Grimmjow smirked. "You're a smart one."

"Are there in the middles?"

"In the middle . . . you mean people who are both good and bad?"

Ichigo nodded, ducking his head shyly as his adopted father scrutinized him. He kicked his legs a little higher and held onto the bench for support. His small hand brushed the Sexta's, and he tentatively curled his tiny fingers over Grimmjow's pinky while sending him timid glances. If Grimmjow noticed his bashfulness, he didn't say anything about it.

"I guess there are people like that." Grimmjow ran his free hand through his hair. "They're the average ones. Then there are those who defy the norm; some on purpose, and some because of other circumstances. Humans are interesting, really."

"Do you think I'm interesting?" Ichigo asked again, gaining courage as he gripped Grimmjow's finger.

The Espada smiled down at him affectionately. "Yes, I think you definitely are."

Ichigo turned a rather nice shade of merlot. "I think Daddy is cool."

Unsure of what had brought on the blushing, Grimmjow watched his adopted son watch his booted feet swing back and forth under the bench. What would be the appropriate thing to say back? The Sexta fiddled with a loose thread on his shirt as he reflected on this. This father-son thing wasn't something he had gotten used to - more like slowly learned to tolerate over time - and he was still finding his feet. A fleeting thought slipped into his mind, and Grimmjow wondered if he had been a parent in his past life.

Blue eyes caught a glimpse of a father in the distance, lifting his child up off a machine operated rocking horse and kissing the chubby cheek before hugging his little girl while the mother hovered nearby looking pleased.

"Thanks." Grimmjow leaned over to drop a kiss on Ichigo's head. "I think Ichigo is cool too."

There was more blushing, and the fingers gripping his pinky tightened. "Can we make a promise Daddy?"

Was this one of the strange things children would ask? Grimmjow hung onto this thread of thought and filed it away, considering about asking Stark later.

". . . Sure, name it."

"You'll be with me forever, right Daddy?"

Unique beings, these humans.

Eyebrows furrowing as he processed this, Grimmjow did some more lip chewing as he looked over the heads of the crowd to the starry night sky. They were here to see the fireworks, but it hadn't started yet. Besides, the others still hadn't come to find him so they could venture to their next destination, but Grimmjow wasn't worried. They were all probably having just as much fun as he was. Smirking, Grimmjow found it decidedly amusing that a human child was entertaining him. It wasn't as bad as he'd assumed it would be. Still, he wondered if making rash promises would come back to haunt him one day. It was something small, but this wasn't like anything Grimmjow was accustomed to. The old Sexta would have laughed it off and promised without batting an eyelid, but this new Grimmjow was starting to think things through with a clearer mindset.

"Forever is a long time, Ichigo."

"So you promise?" Ichigo was bent on getting a positive reaction from his adopted father.

His mind working quickly as he summed up the circumstances, Grimmjow grinned. "Let's compromise on your promise, shall we? I'll keep it simple so you'll understand. How about I promise to stay with you for as long as I can?"

Frowning, Ichigo shrugged one shoulder. Grimmjow smirked inwardly as he realized Ichigo wasn't as gullible as other children. "That's not a real promise then."

"It's the best deal I can come up with right now."

Mulling this over, Ichigo finally sighed. "Okay. But why?"

This was easier. Grimmjow felt like he could do this. "Because I'm an Espada, and that means I'm a sword. To be more specific, I'm a part of Aizen's sword. When he raises his hand and flings his sword out, I carry out his command. And sometimes when his commands are carried out, it means certain death for those who are too loyal and not careful."

Oh no, he'd gotten carried away a little, there. Grimmjow braced himself for more questions as Ichigo looked into his eyes searchingly.

"Why only those?"

The "why you, Daddy?" hadn't gone amiss in the boy's tone.

He decided it was best to wing it – with a smidgen of truth inside, of course. Nothing good would ever come out of lying to the boy. Ichigo was too sharp.

"It really depends on luck, and how you perceive things; like your outlook on life in general." Grimmjow ran a hand through his wavy blue locks, mussing it up. "If your will to live is strong, nothing that stands in your way can stop you from getting what you want out of life."

Ichigo beamed. "Like how I got you to buy me cotton candy and marshmallows tonight."

Grimmjow made a face. "Damn, you got me. You sneaky little mouse."

The boy stuck out a little pink tongue and waggled it at Grimmjow. "Daddy, you know what that makes you? You're the cat who fell into the mouse's trap."

"Now you're getting cocky, just like someone I used to know." He tickled Ichigo's stomach until the boy shrieked for mercy. "Actually, scratch that; you're exactly like him."

Cerulean eyes looked into amber ones with mutual happiness. For now, Grimmjow was slowly feeling what it was like to care for someone – and possibly be cared for back, but he couldn't be too sure – and it wasn't as unpleasant as he's thought it would be.

"I'll try to be with you as long as I can, Ichigo." The Sexta vowed, sliding his pinky finger under the boy's own. "And I hope that our time together will be a long one."

"Why?"

"Because . . ." Grimmjow struggled to find the right words to say. What would be appropriate for a child? "Right now, you mean a lot to me, kid."

Ichigo smiled, his eyes crinkling up as he beamed at Grimmjow. He was starting to say something, the words forming on his lips. "Daddy, I –"

He didn't manage to finish before Grimmjow stiffened, grabbed him swiftly and moved with the lithe grace of a panther as it chased after its prey, heading toward a dark, secluded opening that led into thick bushes. Glowing white swords made of spirit particles shot after him as he made his fast exit. The whizzing sounds they made spurred the Espada to run faster, but his gigai's suppression was slowing him down. He needed a hiding place to shed it so he could move with ease - and be at full power. There were shouts and commands from behind him, and Grimmjow swerved to the left abruptly, skirting down a long row of bushes and a wide stretch of grass. Because it was so dark in here, and the presence of humans were close by, the Sexta knew the Shinigami wouldn't be going out full force. They would have to be extra vigilant if they didn't want to harm any humans. Still, he had to tread carefully. One little slip-up, or being half a second too late could prove to be fatal. Grimmjow focused on running, carefully leaking out his reiatsu into different areas than the one he was headed into; a trick he had picked up several centuries ago. When he dashed to the right into a clump of tall trees, he spilled his spirit pressure over to the north-west. Using his natural Arrancar senses, he could hear the confused Shinigami running off in the direction his pressure was the strongest.

Grimmjow smirked to himself. He dropped Ichigo onto the grass and peeled himself out of the gigai, not caring where it fell. Szayel would be furious, but this was a life or death situation. Maybe he would understand if Grimmjow explained nicely later. When he stepped out in his normal form, he was garbed in his Espada robes. The hilt of Pantera glinted at his side, where the shiny tip caught the reflected light from the street fair. Ichigo hiccuped from his position on the ground.

"Quiet." Kneeling down, Grimmjow slid an arm around him and held him close. "We're on the run now."

Ichigo nodded and bit his bottom lip to keep from making unnecessary noises. The Sexta took the opportunity to dash through the trees, heading out for a small clearing before ripping open a Gargantuan to escape. He didn't care about meeting up with the other Espada; when there were enemies this many around, it was every man for himself and they knew it too. That was the way they did things; the stratagem under the rule of Aizen-sama.

"Daddy." Ichigo whispered urgently. "There's something following us."

Head snapping up, Grimmjow glanced around wildly, never once breaking stride as he continued his run. The clearing was getting close, but the rustling in the trees around couldn't just be the wind. His sharp ears picked up the soft clinking sounds of swords against metal scabbards, and Grimmjow knew at once he was being tailed. Ichigo gripped onto the sleeve of his jacket, holding on tightly to keep from sliding out of his father's arms. He needn't have worried; Grimmjow had a strong grip. At any rate; there was no way the Espada was letting him go.

There was the sharp whizzing of an unsheathed blade flying through the air, and Grimmjow dodged just in time before it collided with the skin on his neck and pierced through to slice past his bones. He composed himself and set one hand on the hilt of Pantera. Ichigo clung tighter onto his jacket.

"Grimmjow Jeagerjacques, Sexta Espada." A tall, stoic faced, young-looking Shinigami stood staring icy daggers at him. "Hand over Kurosaki Ichigo."

Grimmjow ignored him. There was another taller, bulkier shape advancing from behind the Shinigami. The figure had spiky black hair and little bells tied to the end of each spike. Grimmjow felt slightly nauseated at the manic grin the man sported on his face. Then it hit him.

Both Shinigami were wearing white haori; that meant he was up against two captains. Grimmjow ground his teeth in annoyance. His lucky star had done a bunk; how was he to fight properly while holding onto Ichigo? There weren't any buildings around to place him on this time – and he wouldn't know when Ichigo would be taken. He did know one thing, however. He wasn't going down without a fight. Or two. Or ten. Or a hundred. He'd already made up his mind. Being put in charge of Ichigo and caring for him was turning him a little too sappy for his liking, but Grimmjow didn't care if his sanity was slowly fraying at the edges like an old washcloth.

Ichigo was his to fight.

Scratch that, Ichigo was his; hands down, no contest, period.

He wasn't about to let some pansy Shinigami with barrettes in his shoulder-length hair take away his greatest pleasure; something he had pleaded with Aizen over. Grimmjow eyed the other Captain skeptically. The bells in his hair did seem to give off a strange tinkly chime, but other than that the grinning Shinigami was all man. The bare, hard chest and rock hard stomach muscles were proof of that. Slowly, the Sexta dragged Pantera out of its scabbard.

Almost immediately, the spiky haired Shinigami burst out into harsh, raucous laughter. The bells on the ends of his hair tinkled merrily along with him. Grimmjow thought he saw a small nerve twitch on the long haired Shinigami's temple, but it was quickly replaced with an expressionless glare.

"Enough with the theatrics!" There were more chuckles. "It'll be easier to just hand the kid over, Arrancar."

"What will you do, Sexta Espada?"

Hearing the long haired Shinigami use his rank as a vague name of calling him made Grimmjow's blood boil. He could feel Ichigo trembling in his arms as he hid his face in the crook of Grimmjow's neck.

"What else is there to do, Shinigami?" Grimmjow drawled lazily. "Why don't you take a guess?"

He slashed his sword out into empty air, hoping it would be enough of a distraction before he released a strong Cero. The humans would probably feel a big gust of wind, but aside from that they wouldn't be hurt. Well, it wasn't like he cared much. Getting away with Ichigo was the most important thing on his mind right now.

As the searing blue heat of his Cero blasted toward the Shinigami captains, Grimmjow dived in the opposite direction using Sonido, packing as much speed as he could muster before heading out into the cloudy night sky. In his arms, Ichigo whimpered.

"Shh, we're going someplace safe."

There were familiar chuckles behind him, and Grimmjow felt momentary panic seething through his veins. He was irritated that the Shinigami had seen through his ruse so easily, but then again they weren't captains for nothing. He ripped open a space in the Human Realm, stepping into his Gargantuan even before it had fully stretched open. The black gaping hole seemed to scare Ichigo, who snuggled closer into his chest with a soft sob.

"After him." The long haired Shinigami ordered, a little bossily.

The other grinning maniac made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. "Tch; you don't have to tell me that."

Grimmjow made a mad dash inside his Gargantuan, praying it would close up fast enough before the Shinigami followed him in. He created his own spiritual strand, running out on the just-wide-enough line of spirit particles through a whirling mass of red and black. He was taking the shortcut into Hueco Mundo – but the road was coming jarringly close to the path of Hell. The Sexta heard footsteps to his right and turned to look, immediately on alert.

Stark was running alongside him now, looking tired and somewhat awake at the same time. Grimmjow shot him a grin.

"I guess they didn't get you either."

"There are three more after me." Stark panted. "How many are on your tail?"

"Two." Grimmjow shifted Ichigo's weight in his arms. "Where's Lilinette?"

"I sent her ahead. Hope she gets back to Las Noches before I do."

The Sexta gave the Primera a sidelong glance. "What's with the sudden separation? It's not like you."

"Anything's better than having her caught." Stark retorted. "I set her on the safest strand I know."

"The one past the Hollow region?"

Stark responded with a terse nod.

"But it's the longest way." Grimmjow panted back, holding onto Ichigo tightly. "Does she even know how to get back?"

Skirting round the subject, Stark reached out and joined his particle strand with Grimmjow's. "Here, let me hold him. You'll run faster that way."

Grimmjow passed Ichigo over reluctantly, grateful for the blood circulating in his arms now. "Thanks."

Now that their strands were joined, it was probably easier for them to be tracked. Grimmjow risked a glance behind them, and saw nothing but a reddish-black void. The open space of his Gargantuan had closed up some time ago. Had the Shinigami managed to follow them in?

"Don't stop. Just keep running." Stark's tone made him feel certain that they were being followed. "I bet they used another way."

"Then we need to use sneak tactics too." Grimmjow spread out his spirit strand onto a lower level. "The closer we are to Hell, the better. We govern the Hollows there, too. They'll serve as a good distraction."

"Cowardly." Stark agreed. "But I like the way you think."

Quickly, the two Espada maneuvered their spirit strands down to the outskirts of Hell. The shrieks and wails of agony grew to an almost deafening roar. Ichigo burst into tears. Hurriedly, Stark handed him back to Grimmjow for comfort.

"Hush." Grimmjow placed a soft kiss on Ichigo's head. "Just try to be brave. We'll be fine."

"Not for long." An unfamiliar voice said.

Stark raised his sword and parried a slash from a white haired Shinigami – who coincidentally wore a white haori.

"Shit, another captain!" Grimmjow drew Pantera and blocked a hit from a redhead that lunged at him. "Dammit, we're surrounded."

It was true.

Five Shinigami made a cautious ring around the two Espada, all their swords drawn. They were quick, and had seemingly materialized out of thin air. Judging by their arm bands, Grimmjow guessed two were lieutenants. The other three were captains. His lucky star really had fizzled out and died. There was no way they could get back to Las Noches safely now.

"Give us the boy." The white haired Shinigami ordered.

He was a little too short for the serious look in his eyes. Grimmjow figured he had probably died young.

"What if I say no?"

Stark yawned. "Play nice now, Sexta."

"You too, Primera."

With that, they launched forward with their swords drawn. Grimmjow vaguely wondered how Stark was going to fight without Lilinette by his side to aid him, but now was not the time for questions like that. They were both quelling their fears and concerns to face the imminent fight that lay before them on the road of fate.

"There's no such thing as fate!" Grimmjow growled as he made quick slashing motions at the redhead. "I'll decide my own destiny with these two hands!"

"What the hell are you on about, Arrancar?" the Shinigami scoffed, sliding his long serrated blade toward Grimmjow. "Going crazy in your old age?"

"Careful, Renji!" The short black haired lieutenant voiced out. "Don't underestimate him."

The redhead named Renji snickered. "I know what I'm doing, Rukia."

Grimmjow bit back a sharp retort. They were outnumbered for sure, but there was nothing he loved better than a good fight. In his arms, Ichigo squirmed and made a soft sound. He looked terrified.

"We're okay." Grimmjow whispered, keeping one hand on Pantera. "Don't be scared, Ichigo."

"I'm not scared!" Ichigo said with a defiant raise of his chin. "Cause Daddy's with me."

Renji and Rukia eyed them in a mixture of suspicion and surprise. Grimmjow leered; he could almost smell what they were thinking. They looked doubtful the Espada could actually make Ichigo feel comfortable, but then again, what did they know? They weren't the ones who were around to keep Ichigo safe. Grimmjow was sure they couldn't treat him as well as he could. A strong feeling of protectiveness welled up in his chest. Ichigo was so vulnerable, and bringing him out of the safety of Las Noches was putting him in the jaws of the lion. The Sexta regretted ever agreeing to Aizen's plans before thinking things through first. It wasn't the first time something like this happened.

Warily, Grimmjow shared a quick glance with Stark. It was time to set their skills into action. Whipping around, Grimmjow blasted a Cero at the Shinigami before diving down lower into the depths of the spirit realm. He held onto Ichigo as he shot Cero after Cero at the enemy, hoping Stark would get away just as quickly. There was a blinding flash, and a searing pain burned through his veins. Grimmjow gasped at the attack, tightening his grip on Ichigo as he continued running, determined on a break for freedom.

The Shinigami behind him yelled quick spells that bonded his legs together, stopping him from moving any further. Grimmjow let out an angry, frustrated snarl.

"Well done, Rukia." Grimmjow twitched at the familiar tone of voice; it was none other than the long haired Shinigami captain. "Those was quick reflexes."

"Bind them together, and take the boy. We'll string them suspended along with us."

The Sexta ground his teeth and hissed, becoming almost feral-like as quick hands deftly grabbed Ichigo away from him. The boy let out a loud yell, screaming as he struggled against the Shinigami. At the sound of desperation, Grimmjow made a lunge for his child, only to have his wrists restrained with thick rope-like kidou bonds. The Shinigami spells were strong, and the ropes cut into his wrists as he struggled.

"The more you move, the tighter it gets."

"Give him back!" Grimmjow hissed through gritted teeth.

What was a little pain if he could somehow save Ichigo?

"I'm afraid not, Espada. You've been giving us far too much trouble for us to be lenient with you." The long haired Shinigami said in a snide, superior tone. "Hold him upright, Abarai."

Renji hoisted Grimmjow to his feet and muttered a quick spell to keep him floating upright as they gathered Stark beside him. Grimmjow was surprised to see the Primera covered in blood. There were about twenty spirit particles in the form of thin, long white poles sticking out of his back. Blood was seeping through his Espada robes, staining the white cloth a shade of merlot. Stark looked pale; but his face remained expressionless despite the amount of pain he must be feeling. Grimmjow chewed on his lower lip as he shot his fellow Espada look of sympathy. Stark gave him a small nod to show he was okay.

"Kuchiki Taichou!" a messenger appeared, somewhat out of breath and exhausted looking. "Word has been sent from Soi Fong Taichou; the other Espada have escaped!"

As the long haired Shinigami captain replied in a low voice, Grimmjow breathed a small sigh of relief. So the others had managed to get away. He hoped they would bring some backup – Ulquiorra would know that he'd used the shortcut through the outskirts of Hell; maybe some rescue team would come and ambush the stupid Shinigami anytime now. He fidgeted as he waited for the Shinigami to do something, anything – set their heads on fire, beat him up, or do some random cleansing rituals like they were so prone to doing. He released a hiss of air through his teeth, clicking his molars together impatiently. Something good was bound to happen soon, right? He'd been on a roll today with Ichigo; surely the gods would look down upon him and shake their heads pityingly, then set him free.

No such luck.

The Shinigami all had sticks up their asses, as Nnoitra would say. Grimmjow ground his teeth in anticipation as he awaited their actions. Would they kill him now? There wasn't any reason why they shouldn't; they had the boy now anyway. Besides, Stark was in no condition to fight properly, even without the spirit ropes binding his limbs. His wounds looked pretty deep, but he was still bearing it without even a whimper of pain.

"Hey!" Grimmjow called. He was getting antsy.

The Shinigami paid no mind, instead moving closer into a small circle to talk out their next scheme. Grimmjow seethed, clicking his teeth together loudly as he vented his irritation. The bonds around his wrists and legs were set in a gentle but firm grip so as not to hurt the captive, but Grimmjow couldn't stand just floating around like some mindless stray animal awaiting their trip to the gashouse. Stark let out a soft sigh, and Grimmjow noticed his breathing was gradually growing ragged. The Shinigami were still having their mini conference, and the Sexta felt a strong urge to mash their faces together and feed them to Hell's dogs. Ichigo was being held and silenced by a busty Shinigami with thick wavy brown curls. She wasn't even holding him right! The boy looked scared and about to shit his pants. Fat tears were rolling down his chubby cheeks like water trickling from a tap.

"Oi, you guys deaf?"

Grimmjow waited for at least one of them to give him the evil eye, but he didn't even get so much as a glance. Stark was sagging against his binds now, taking in deep breaths of air as he struggled to stay upright. He looked like he was falling asleep. With his hands bound, Grimmjow couldn't slap his fellow Espada awake. If Stark fell asleep . . . no telling when he would awaken. Or ever awaken, that is. But thinking about random morbid thoughts wasn't going to help him any. It was now or never.

"Fuck it, HEY!"

That got their attention. Serious looking eyes turned to glare icy daggers at him, but Grimmjow didn't give a flying fuck if they were butt hurt about being hollered at. If verbal violence was all he had to use, he was gonna trounce them full force.

"What the hell do you assholes think you're doing?" Grimmjow spat, feeling a lot like a feral cat in a cage. "Stark is dying and you're having tea party time together on the most dangerous road in the Spirit Realm. My kid is crying and that bitch over there isn't even trying to soothe him. I thought the females were supposed to have a natural way with kids, but she's an exception for sure."

The short white haired captain marched forward until his nose was somewhere near Grimmjow's chest. "How dare you insult my lieutenant? That is the most biased thing I have ever heard."

A switch clicked in Grimmjow's mind. The short Shinigami was pissed about him having insulted his lieutenant twice in a row, but now the Sexta had something to leverage with.

"Let's see you try any better, child." If Grimmjow remembered right, Ulquiorra had explained his theory about his observations on each captain, and this petite one had an instant rage blast whenever someone poked at his appearance. "I can't believe she's your lieutenant; she's way too old for you kid."

He gave the furious Shinigami a sneer and spat in his face. The captain made a lunge for him, one hand on his zanpakutou, but he was held back by several other Shinigami.

"Please stop, Hitsugaya Taichou! He's only doing it to bait you." Renji voiced his opinion quickly.

"Hitsugaya, is it?" Grimmjow snickered. "I can imagine someone tall and manly with that name, but on you it just sounds really cute."

The emphasis on the last word made the white haired Shinigami snap as his rage meter rose to full level.

"I'm going to kill him!" Hitsugaya yelled as he struggled against the others.

"Enough." The long haired Shinigami known as Kuchiki silenced everyone. "We will set our direction for Seireitei immediately. The longer we stay here, the more we cause the imbalance of spiritual energy in this realm."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Finally, someone old enough with a functional brain."

Hitsugaya managed to squirm free of the restraining hands, and aimed a hard punch at his face.

Dodging the blow at the last second, Grimmjow flipped one ankle up and caught the young Captain in the back of his knees. Hitsugaya pitched forward, but used his zanpakutou to balance himself before turning a somersault over and kicking Grimmjow in the stomach. With a grunt, the Sexta reeled backwards from the blow, realizing in that split second the bonds holding him were weakening with the amount of thrashing he was putting up. The Shinigami seemed to realize this too, for all three Captains rushed forward with their swords drawn. He knew they could easily dodge his Cero now, and Stark was a little too out of it to put up much of a fight. Ichigo was still being cradled by Matsumoto, who was looking worried and excited all at once.

Grimmjow bared his teeth and reached for his right hip. Oh well, at least he still had his sword.

"Grind, Pantera."

The air around stilled, just like the calm before a storm. Out of nowhere, a strong physical vibration could be felt as Grimmjow released his resurrection, basking in the newfound energy he now had in this pure, raw spiritual form. He could feel the shock of the spirit realm around him at his unrefined power, relishing the silent encouragement the unknown gave him.

As the Shinigami hurriedly released their bankai around him, Grimmjow decided on a quick attack. Taking the enemy by surprise, he shot Cero after Cero at them, grinning widely when the Shinigami scattered like frightened pigeons before him. There was one small problem, however – he couldn't see where Stark and Ichigo were from this angle. The irritating part was that the spirit realm they were travelling in sucked in his Cero like a vacuum, leaving no destruction in its wake. Grimmjow relied on destruction to aid his prowess.

"You are incompetent." said a voice next to his right ear, and Grimmjow lashed out with his sword just in time, nicking a short lock of hair from Byakuya's head as he whirled back. "Scatter, Senbonzakura."

Behind Grimmjow ran Kenpachi, sword drawn and the usual shit-eating grin on his face as he kept up to pace with the Sexta Espada's speed of Sonido. A little ways behind Kenpachi ran Hitsugaya, the telltale white hair pushed back as he rushed forward, bringing his sword down low as he readied for attack. The Sexta had them all playing into mouth of the panther; things were going exactly the way he wanted. Not letting on his scheme, Grimmjow grinned back in a manic manner and slid the blade of Pantera over his palm.

"Gran Rey Cero." He chanted with a smug expression on his face.

"Grimmjow, don't – !"

Stark was shouting, but his thin voice was cut out by the terrific blast of sound as bright blue and white light erupted from Grimmjow's palm, blooming into a giant upsurge as it shot out and forward in the direction of his enemies. Grimmjow caught the surprised looks on the Shinigami caught in his epic power shot before turning back to search the area behind him for Stark and Ichigo.

The large chested lieutenant was still keeping a tight grip on his little boy, who was crying and struggling, which made Grimmjow bare his teeth and hiss in desperation. She was still holding him the wrong way! Stark was standing now, yanking the white kidou poles out of his body as he flipped his sword from its scabbard. So he'd been pretending to look weak assed after all. The plan was going great. Grimmjow wondered how he could fight in this situation without Lilinette, but that was the least of his concerns. Right now, he needed to get to Ichigo.

Shooting out more spiritual pressure into his power shot, the Sexta dived away from the fight and used Sonido to bring him toward the feathery haired lieutenant, who was cowering from the harsh blast of raw power not too far off. She blinked up at him and reached for her zanpakutou uncertainly. The Sexta sheathed Pantera and trained his eyes on her.

"Mine." Grimmjow snarled between his teeth, gripping her wrist before she could get a hold of her weapon. "Give him back to me."

Maybe it was the fierce possessiveness in his tone, or the feral glint in his eyes, but she handed Ichigo over without another word. Grimmjow narrowed his blue eyes at her before clenching his jaw.

"Thank you." He forced out, and flashed away as quickly as possible to evade the enemy's oncoming attacks.

Stark was now rushing alongside him, his face set in a determined expression as he strained to make out a fully composed particle strand through the spirit realm. They were so very close to Hell, which was the best place to make a retreat if they wanted to lose the Shinigami, who were hot on their trail.

"Take a left." Stark panted and hissed as he clutched a hand to his solar plexus, where a small hole could be seen as it patched itself up slowly. "We need all the shortcuts we can use."

More blazing white kidou poles were being shot their way. Grimmjow held Ichigo tightly to his chest, desperate for the scent of freedom. He could almost smell it; they were so close to reaching the end . . .

Something jabbed him in the chest, right at the axis of his heart. Grimmjow felt his body still, despite his brain sending information through his nerves to kick his muscles into action. He looked down to see a black tattoo-like version of a butterfly etch itself onto his jacket. Sliding his eyeballs to his right, he saw Stark standing still as well, the same butterfly appearing on his chest.

"Well done, Soi-Fong Taichou!" said a large sized Shinigami, presumably the lieutenant.

Ichigo struggled to keep himself upright in Grimmjow's arms, wondering why his father's grip was like a statue's – all frozen and at a standstill.

"Daddy!" He yelled. "Run, Daddy, we gotta – mmph!"

Byakuya silenced the struggling child by clapping a hand over his mouth, extracting him from Grimmjow's arms. He nodded at a short, scowling captain, who then proceeded to mutter some incantations and aimed a jab at Grimmjow's temple.

He saw another small butterfly before everything went black.

x

He awoke on a soft bed with a warm blanket over him.

It was probably morning; the place was bright and sunlight was streaming in through a dark brown window. The room he was in had a strong sense of spells and wards all over it. Grimmjow could feel it prickling his skin, like a light thin membrane of covering over his body. The Shinigami called it cleansing spells; he called them irritating. He didn't need to be cleansed. There was nothing dirty about being a Hollow creature. It was just the mindset of everyone else with opinions they felt like shoving down others' throats.

Slowly easing himself out of the comfy bed, Grimmjow winced as his bare feet touched the floor. A slight prickle – like a small zap of electricity – ran through the rice straw matted flooring, sending little traces of cleansing energy up his feet. The feeling disappeared once the spells reached his knees. Grimmjow exhaled a soft breath of air he didn't know he'd been holding. So the Shinigami had even cast kidou on the ground too. What did they expect him to do; dig a hole and escape through the earth? Please. It just showed how confident they were in their security systems. Grimmjow scoffed at the drab looking walls and scoured the bare room for his boots. There were no traces of anything he owned; no Pantera, no Espada garments, and no familiar black boots.

Seething inwardly, Grimmjow felt the thin white clothing the Shinigami had put on him with finger and thumb. The material was soft, but he still missed his crisp white jacket and pants. Absently feeling his right hip for the familiar weight of Pantera, Grimmjow heaved a sigh.

"It's really game over, isn't it?"

He waited for someone – anyone – to walk by his cell, but no one did. He strained to hear the footsteps of an oncoming visitor, but the sounds of footfall always ceased as they rounded a corner somewhere within the building he was held captive. Grimmjow had never felt so alone in his life, if even for a day. There was always the skittering of sand lizards burrowing into the hot desert, or the sounds of his fellow Espada arguing. Even at night, there were sounds made by nocturnal animals, like the foxes sniffling around for the scent of prey, or other desert creatures within Las Noches. The Sexta walked over to the thick green-brown bamboo pillars separating him from the beige pathway outside and placed a hand on one of the columns.

The occasional tingle of cleansing spirit wards coursing through the room was now a familiar feeling to him. Grimmjow picked morosely at his new choice of clothing and suppressed a sigh as his ego kicked in. No way was he going to mope around and give the Shinigami the benefit of seeing him dejected and thwarted. He didn't know much about their torture systems here, but from what he'd garnered during casual discussions with Gin and Aizen, the area in Soul Society was protected by wards that were renewed every day. The only way out was through a Senkaimon, where a giant named Jidanbo guarded the entrance and exit. There was no way he could break out of the cell he was currently in without everyone and their mother rushing out to stop him the second alarm bells started ringing. Grimmjow couldn't even plan a proper escape route. The spells had altered his cell area by reducing how far he could see down the long, seemingly endless corridor through the bamboo bars. Grimmjow gritted his teeth and scratched his nails down the wood pillars, enjoying the tugging feeling as friction scraped against his fingertips.

He heard footsteps approaching, but assumed the usual outcome and sank down onto the soft bed. It smelled different than his own back at Las Noches – obviously – but he figured he could deal. At least they gave him a bed.

The bamboo pillars sank back down into the flooring and Grimmjow snapped to attention. Blue eyes met small black ones as the redheaded Shinigami stood at the entrance. He looked a little nervous. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at him and smirked.

"Sexta Espada, I have been ordered to escort you to the court room, where your trial will be held before Yamamoto-Taichou."

"Grimmjow." Grimmjow muttered.

"Excuse me?" The redhead asked, looking a little confused.

Grimmjow leaned back against the wall his bed was pushed up against. He could feel the niggling sensation of the wards as his back touched the wall, and found it annoying. "Call me by my real name."

The redhead nodded slowly. "Then you can call me Renji."

Blue eyes narrowed again as Grimmjow stared at the Shinigami suspiciously. "Are you trying to play nice?"

Renji tilted his head to the side and shrugged. "You don't seem like someone bad if you were kind to Ichigo."

"I see where this is going." Grimmjow straightened and slid off the bed, walking over to the Shinigami. "Where are my clothes? And my sword?"

"Nowhere you'll be able to find them, for sure." Renji offered him a terse smile and gestured down the hallway. "Now if you're ready, let's go."

Grimmjow peered down the corridor with a curled lip, admiring the sparse decorations disdainfully. The floorboards were made of wood, as was traditional in the area, and the walls were an off-white color. Rice paper doors and more brownish green bamboo pillars adorned the long hallway. It was nothing like he was used to. Aizen's taste in décor at Las Noches was impeccable, and the pure white tiles complimented the dark marble flooring to the T. Grimmjow decided rather petulantly that he didn't like Soul Society. No wonder Aizen wanted out.

The trip to the court room was a long, silent one. Renji didn't seem to mind not talking, and Grimmjow was too busy looking out for vague escape routes as they made the journey through the building. They passed numerous Shinigami standing guard outside some rooms, but aside from that the entire hallway seemed silent save for the occasional chirping of birds. As they walked by an open window, Grimmjow stopped to peer outside curiously. There were trees and dark grey pebbles all around on the grass fenced in by a large white wall, and lots of laughter coming from somewhere. Sounds of swords clashing could be heard not too far off, and Grimmjow frowned. What sort of place was he in?

Renji gave him an understanding look and a small smile. "Finding it a little different aren't you?"

"Where's Ichigo?" Grimmjow didn't want the Shinigami to act friendly. He was still the enemy, after all. "What's he doing?"

"You'll find out soon enough if you come with me." Renji gave him a light pat on the shoulder. "So you really are worried about him."

Grimmjow didn't know what to think. Either Renji was a little hardheaded, or he really didn't know what he was doing. He hadn't even bothered to bind his wrists! Maybe he could throw some good punches before the Shinigami realized what was happening and get out of the damn building. Being confined to a warded room was one thing, but outside of it there were no spells. At least, none that he could feel. And his Hollow senses were quite sharp, thank you very much.

But then again, maybe Renji was baiting him.

He followed the redhead without another word and obediently waited beside him as two heavily muscled guards cranked the handles of the tall double doors, thus revealing the dim room within. Renji gave Grimmjow a gentle nudge.

"Go in. No one bites . . . much."

Heh, Grimmjow scoffed inwardly. Do I look scared?

The Shinigami was just assuming of course. Masks were something useful, especially in enemy territory. It was a simple, practical concept taught by Ulquiorra and he was grateful it came in handy now, though the Sexta would never admit it to the Quarto.

Upon entering, Grimmjow was surprised to see Stark already there, seated right in the middle of the room on a plush red cushion, his wrists bound together with a single white band of spirit particles – most likely the same ones that that pierced his body the previous day. Several feet in front sat an ancient looking Shinigami on an ornate chair with gold backing and plush black cushions. He held a thick staff before him and squinted around the room, barely moving. Grimmjow eyed his extremely long white beard and bald head, wondering if the guy was a mannequin of sorts meant to intimidate people. And here he'd figured Barragan was weird. Szayel was right; one didn't know much about other beings until they travelled.

And what a humongous lot of travelling he'd done.

There was some rustling behind him, and Grimmjow was pushed gently but firmly down, and made to sit on the red cushion just like Stark was doing. The Primera blinked at him blearily and gave him a slow, sleepy nod. Grimmjow itched to ask about his wounds, but was distracted as several Shinigami filed in to take their seats around him, gathering in a long, vertical line on either side. It felt like a ceremony.

The second the ancient guy started to speak, Grimmjow knew this was going to be a bore. Unlike Aizen's calm, almost carefree manner, this old guy talked like he owned everyone in the room. Grimmjow could feel disgust and a strong urge to interrupt him in mid-sentence boiling up inside his stomach. Stark elbowed him in the ribs, giving him a sidelong glance that seemed to say 'control yourself'. But Grimmjow didn't feel like doing that.

"Grimmjow Jeagerjacques and Coyote Stark, after many months of searching we have finally redeemed the Kurosaki child back into safe hands."

Stark's face remained passive as he watched Yamamoto-Taichou bellow from his high throne, gripping the top of his rough-hewn cane like he couldn't sit upright without it there to support him. Grimmjow looked irritated, but he ground his teeth to make himself shut up before he spewed what he really thought.

"Despite what the Shinigami rules state, that is to kill any Hollow on the spot before they can infest the Human Realm, the captains of the Gotei Thirteen have refrained from ending your lives and instead decided upon bringing you to Soul Society."

Yamamoto paused for effect, waiting for the words to sink in, maybe hoping Grimmjow would hang his head and look dejected, or eager for Stark to whine like a wounded puppy. Smirking, Grimmjow bared his teeth at him. Stark just heaved a sigh and studied his nails before whispering.

"I need to cut them."

"The bonds?" Grimmjow whispered back.

"My nails." Stark looked at him with sleepy incredulity. "Like I could cut these ropes without Lilinette."

Grimmjow gave him a puzzled stare. "So summon her."

"No way in Hell." Stark gave a genuine shudder. "She'll be treated like a gut microbe here."

"As in tapeworm?" Grimmjow chuckled, giving the Primera a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Please, you've gotta hold her in a higher light than that."

Only recently had they learned about bacteria life forms through Ulquiorra, who had been sucked into listening to an enthusiastic human sales promoter rambling on about the importance of hygiene and the use of anti-bacterial cleansing wipes, especially for children as young as Ichigo.

Upon noticing the Espada were far from paying attention to his speech, Yamamoto gave them a look similar to one having a root canal.

"So that's how it is." Yamamoto leaned forward in his chair and thumped his staff onto the floor. "The two of you are so blasé about your death trial; which proves Aizen has taught you nothing."

Grimmjow snickered. "Of course he didn't teach us anything, old man. What we know right now is from our own past experiences."

"Trial? What trial?" Yawning, Stark did a one shoulder shrug. "All I see is an old man trying to act godly."

Yamamoto's face was livid. All around, the Shinigami Captains stirred. Some were indignant, others indifferent, and the rest scornful. None dared to comment, however.

"Blah, blah. Boring rituals; I can see why Aizen left."

Stark shook his head and gave Grimmjow a rather violent jab in the ribs as he hissed in a low tone. "Be silent. They could kill the child, and then you. Watch what you say."

Grimmjow was about to protest, but a low ranked Shinigami materialized in front of them. He looked like part ninja in the black and gray outfit covering every inch of his body except for half his face. It wasn't the ninja-clad person before him, rather the items he carried and held out with both hands as he bowed in deep respect for the ancient fogey atop the throne.

"Please forgive the delay, Yamamoto-Taichou!"

Pantera and Los Lobos lay before them on the dark wooden floorboards. Grimmjow felt his stomach churn. His wrists weren't bonded, nothing was holding him back, and those weapons were within reach –

"It is as you wish." His face slightly pink and indignant, Yamamoto bellowed out the final testimony as he sagged back into his ornate chair. "Both of you will are sentenced to death in the next three days."

x

I'm aware that Stark's name is spelt as Starrk. Before, it was incorrectly romanized as how I spell it in here. I hope you guys don't mind it; because Stark with double r's just sounds weird to me. I tend to roll my tongue when I pronounce Starrk. HAHA :D

Another cliffhanger, which I hate. Not to worry, the next chapter has already been written out; just some corrections and additions to be made before I post it.

As many of you already know how this story's plotline goes [if you've read this story of mine two years ago that is – if not, just disregard this] I just wanted to ask you guys what you think about me writing another spin-off to Daddy, where Ichigo is not caught by the Shinigami and grows up instead as one of the bad guys. More or less with the Espada. :D The idea does sound insanely interesting, and I think I'll have a lot of fun writing Ichigo as a baddie.

Feel free to drop me a review and tell me what you think! :)