Chapter 2 – Endings and Beginnings

Continuing! Rated M for *gasp* adult stuff.

I most certainly do not own Bleach or any of its characters. Too bad!

On Tuesday, Ichigo had to return to the hospital at 1600 hours (4 pm) for a meeting. It was for Ulquiorra Schiffer's final report – the last run-down that would cover all the treatments Ulqui had received, all of it, everything. They'd go over it with a fine-toothed comb and, based on the autopsy findings, see if there was anything that could have been done differently for the man. It wasn't to try to pin blame on anyone for Ulqui's death. On 3C, everything was a learning experience, even death. Ichigo wouldn't miss these meetings for the world. It was his last chance to advocate for one of his charges. He took it very seriously.

The participants slowly filtered into the conference room. A coffee service stood on a table near the doors, and Ichigo had already re-filled his travel mug. Three large flat-screen monitors had been lowered out of the ceiling near the front of the room, and the hospital's home page was displayed on each one. Once Renji arrived (his relief had been delayed), they were ready to go.

Dr. Aizen, head of the department that oversaw 3C, was in charge of the meeting. Dr. Kuchiki, Chado, Ichigo, Renji, and Orihime (as the 3C charge nurse) all attended, along with representatives of the lab, radiology, pathology, surgery (since Ulqui had had to have two procedures during his stay, one in the last weeks before his death), and dietary. Secondary agencies had sent in reports, as well, it not being completely necessary for them to send in a representative. It had all been gone over and the final report had been prepared. Dr. Aizen got up and started, using the first monitor to bring up a report about Ulqui's admittance.

"Ulquiorra Schiffer, aged 21 upon arrival at Karakura General hospital per ambulance five years ago. Mr. Schiffer had attempted suicide, had a gunshot wound to the head, and was not conscious. As far as can be ascertained, Mr. Schiffer never regained consciousness from admittance til the time of his death in the ICU four days ago." The OR picked it up here, using the second flat-screen to bring up the operative report, citing the results of the successful surgery to remove the bullet fragments from his brain. Ulqui's CAT scans and MRIs were displayed, highlighting the damage the bullet had done to the delicate tissues. Ichigo gritted his teeth. These were all the events that had occurred prior to Ulqui's arrival on 3C, before he was transferred in from Karakura General.

It all wound down to the last month of Ulqui's life. Chado had been the first to note the symptoms of increased intra-cranial pressure and Ichigo had been the one to discover that Ulqui's facial features had subtly altered –rapidly the diagnosis of stroke had been made by Dr. Kuchiki. It was all downhill from there. Finally Ulqui had been returned to the OR for burr holes – openings drilled through his skull in order to relieve the building pressure from blood hemorrhaging into the space. Then his family had refused to allow the procedure that could possibly have stopped the bleeding. They said the odds weren't good enough. They said he had been through enough.

Death had been attributed to that stroke and its subsequent effects on Ulqui's brain.

Diagnoses, treatments, pharmaceutical records, nursing … it was all gone over again, trying to spot any holes in the way care was given. Near the end of the meeting, Ichigo had spoken up. The personnel from the lab, dietary, and pathology had already left. "I do have one last thing to say," he said quietly. Aizen's glasses flashed in the light from the flat-screens. "I want to reiterate my misgivings about the withholding of pain medication from Mr. Schiffer following his burr hole procedure and the events following it." He'd worked out the politically correct way of saying that he thought not giving Ulqui pain meds was barbaric and stupid, and thought it came off pretty good.

Dr. Aizen spoke softly but confidently. "Kurosaki-san, you know as well as I do that Mr. Schiffer regularly rated a 5 or below on the Glasgow Coma Scale. He made no measurable response to painful stimuli. Narcotic administration would have depressed his respiratory and digestive systems and probably would have hastened his eventual demise."

"Respectfully, sir, I disagree," Ichigo said softly. "Mr. Schiffer could not respond to painful stimuli. Not overtly, not in any way that could be measured. But who is to say that he was not locked inside his body somewhere … sc-screaming." Fuck. Don't stutter again, idiot! He cleared his throat. "Judicious application of pain meds with conscientious monitoring would not have worsened his condition, and may have helped with the reduction of pressure intra-cranially as it lessened the stress that pain causes in the body."

Aizen half-smirked, apparently getting ready to show the little nurse how smart the big bad doctor was, when a soft voice cut into the conversation. "I agree," Byakuya Kuchiki said. Everyone looked at him. "We still know far too little about coma … but we have numerous reports of recovered coma patients who have indicated that they were 'conscious' for extended periods, despite the lack of corresponding external signs of consciousness, especially as they moved toward waking resolution. These reports tend to bear out what Kurosaki-san is saying."

Ichigo half fell in love with Byakuya Kuchiki in that moment. Dr. Aizen looked from one to the other of them, tapping his finger against his lips, then nodding when Orihime and Renji added their agreement to Ichigo's argument. "I'd need to see some case studies, some out-of-facility research …"

"Right here, sir," Ichigo said, standing up to hand him a folder. He'd known this was coming.

Aizen looked the enclosed sheets over rapidly, flipping through them. He thought about it, staring at the monitors. Then he looked at Ichigo and Dr. Kuchiki. "Case-by-case basis, physician-approved only, no standing orders acceptable."

That was Aizen's way of approving, tentatively. Ichigo thanked him … the meeting broke up soon after that. As the staff was leaving the conference room, he approached Kuchiki-san. Ichigo bowed slightly, saying, "Thank you, Kuchiki-sensei." Byakuya only nodded, his signature one-sided quirk of the lips signifying his version of a smile.

"You made a good argument, Kurosaki," the tall man said. "It was easy to agree with you."

Jesus Christ the man smelled good. And the way he said 'Kurosaki' was simply criminal. Ichigo inhaled him, covertly he thought, and said, "Well … maybe. But thank you just the same." It had kept Ichigo up nights after caring for Ulqui's burr holes, thinking how much they must hurt, with nothing being done medicinally for pain. He couldn't rid himself of the idea that inside his head, trapped by his unmoving body, Ulqui was tortured and … like he'd said in the meeting … screaming.

There, Ulqui, he thought. Now what happened to you won't happen to anyone else. Not if I can help it.

XXX

Two years ago ...

Ichigo came off-shift in the early morning hours, sliding on his sunglasses and pulling up the hood on his sweat jacket. It was drizzling lightly … the temperature was dropping rapidly and someone had even mentioned snow in the break-room overnight. He hurried from the hospital's employee entrance, walking rapidly toward the train station. It was crowded when he arrived, but it was mostly people arriving at the station, heading to work … not leaving for home like Ichigo.

Funny how the cooler weather, the light rainfall combined to invigorate him. He was smiling a bit when he walked down the ramp toward the platform where he'd wait for the 7:22 to South 2nd Station in Karakura. Ichigo lived in a mostly-residential area, except as you got further out toward the edges of the city. It was fairly clean, quiet, and had good access to the river. Which, unless it was around that time of the year, Ichigo liked.

The 7:22 made several stops in between the northern edge of town, where Ichigo worked, and the South 2nd Station. It was on one of these stops that Ichigo was overcome by memory. He inhaled again, turning to look around at the people nearby. There. A young man, tall, with a black hoodie, black jeans, and boots. Ichigo tried to edge closer but they stopped in mid-town and the guy was getting off. Ichigo couldn't help it … he followed him. He just needed to see his face, his eyes.

Smell is the human sense linked most closely to memory.

He put out a hand, onto the young guy's arm, and said, "Excuse me …" and then the boy, really, turned, surprised, looking over his shoulder, and Ichigo's eyes caught his. He threw his arms around the startled youth and grabbed him up in a hug. "Shu!" Ichigo yelled, laughing, squeezing him tightly. He practically lifted him off his feet.

Shuuhei, after a moment's total shock, caught a glimpse of orange spiky hair as Ichigo's hood fell back and in that second he realized, it's him! His arms came up and locked around Ichigo, returning the hug ten-fold. "Kurosaki-san!"

Ichigo laughed, his head thrown back. Awesome! He hadn't seen Shu in what seemed like ages, ever since the night before he'd been moved out of 3C. Relaxing his hold as Shu relaxed his, Ichigo held onto Shu's biceps as he looked him over. "Ya look great!"

Shuuhei actually found himself growing warm under the other male's perusal. "Thanks," he said, brushing his hood back. He looked down rather shyly as Ichigo looked at his face and hair.

"Number one … the hair is totally you," Ichigo said. "And the tats … I … wow. 69, huh?" He chuckled. "You look fantastic." He couldn't stop grinning. Facial tattoos weren't for everyone – and Shu had damned good reasons for his – but for Shu they just worked. He looked up into the boy-man's face and squeezed his arms. "It's really really great to see you, Shu." His sincerity thrummed in his voice.

"You, too," Shu said, not taking his eyes from Ichigo's face.

"C'mere," Ichigo said, and hugged Shu again. His scent washed over Ichigo and he remembered, caring for a teenaged Shu through his coma … the day he'd awakened … and not seeing him since. He inhaled Shu's smell, reinforcing his memory of it, and only too late realized that not only was he hugging him for far too long, but he had a cheerful hard-on that was pressing against Shu's thigh. Whoops. He loosened his hold on Shu and backed off, to find a stiff blushing Shuuhei staring down at him, wide-eyed.

Ichigo had chuckled. N-not. G-gay. "Everything going okay? Yeah? Good."

Shu had been stricken. Memory flooded his brain, he'd thought about Ichigo so many times … and suddenly here he was.

"Well, listen, I gotta go," Ichigo had said. "Here's my number … give yer old nurse a call sometime, okay? Fucking fantastic to see you!"

It had taken two weeks for Shu to work up the courage to call Ichigo. He'd been on his mind constantly, and now he had his number, he wanted to see the orange-haired man again, sit down and talk with him. So he called and they arranged to meet at a smallish bar in a quieter section of town, not really all that far from Ichigo's apartment, Kisuke's by name. Ichigo got there first, and was already half-done with a beer when Shuuhei showed up, tall and lean in black jeans and a gray t-shirt. Ichigo wasn't going to hug him, but Shu shyly initiated it, so he returned it whole-heartedly.

They'd sat and talked and drank for hours, catching up and reliving old memories. Ichigo was finding himself a little affected by Shu's tall lean maleness and was reminding himself that Shu was not gay … but damn he sure was cute. Whatever, it was great to see him and to see that he was doing so well.

At 3 a.m. Shu was hammered. Unsure where he even was, Ichigo couldn't let him go home alone. So instead Ichigo took him back to his (Ichigo's) apartment, and helped him up the stairs and inside, then onto the couch. "Here … pillow, blanket … need anything to eat? A sandwich? How about a glass of water and some Advil, that way you won't …." He stopped speaking. From here it looked like Shu was … crying?

"Shu?"

"Y-yeah … water sounds great, man," Shuuhei slurred slightly, ducking his head.

Ichigo sat down next to Shu, looking at him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Heh … you okay?"

"You …" Shuuhei stole a glance at Ichigo, "You're still tryin' ta take care o' me," he said, quietly.

Ichigo chuckled and did the lean-bump thing with their shoulders. "Can't help it. 'Cause you know I … I mean, um …" Shit. Don't say it. The time for saying that is past.

"'Cause you loved me," Shu said, leaning over onto him, head on Ichigo's shoulder.

Ichigo froze. "Love," he corrected, softly.

"Huh?"

"You used past tense."

"B-but …"

Ichigo was silent. Instead he patted Shu's head, where it lay on Ichigo's shoulder. Shu raised it and looked at him, and Ichigo reached up and traced over some of his tattoos with one finger, then laid his hand on Shu's cheek.

"N-no-one ever touches my face," Shu said, face crumpling for just a second. He looked into Ichigo's eyes and saw … remembered … saw the emotion shining there.

"I love your face," Ichigo said, smiling. "And I really like the tats," he added, wiggling his eyebrows, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.

The tactic failed. Shuuhei looked into Ichigo's eyes and croaked, "Ichigo," – and Ichi saw it. Shuuhei needed someone to like him, to take care of him, to care what happened to him, to touch his face, to share his memories, to want him, to love him. Shu needed … Ichigo.

He leaned in and murmured, "Shu," and stroked his fingertips down the tattooed side of that handsome face. Shu's breath came out in a shuddering sigh. Ichigo kept petting his face and hair as he pulled him into a hug. He breathed in Shu's scent, still so familiar after so long apart. "You're amazing," he said.

"I-Ichigo," Shu whispered, pulling away a bit to look down at the shorter man. He ran his fingers through that spiky hair, feeling how soft it was … his breath puffing out onto Ichigo's face.

He breathed it in … and suddenly Shu was kissing his cheek, softly, tentatively, like he was expecting to be pushed away or slapped at any second. Instead, Ichigo turned his head and kissed Shu's lips, just as softly. "I love you, Shu," he said. "Still." He kissed the scars, hidden under the tattoos.

"Ichigo," moaned, filled with need.

The redhead glanced down and saw that Shuuhei's jeans were straining to contain a raging hard-on. He lightly drew his fingertips across it, then up and down it, scratching lightly. "Shu?" he whispered. "Let me take care of you."

"Ahh," Shu moaned, straightening and straining against Ichigo's hand.

Shuuhei was not gay … but a blow job was not a strictly gay thing. So Ichigo went down on the other man, sucking him off thoroughly until he came hard, and his cum was thick and copious. "Mmm," Ichigo hummed around Shu's cock, drinking it, every last bit.

Shu was one massive blush, shuddering and shivering with aftershocks, with embarrassment. "S-sorry … it's been a l-long time," he apologized, agonized, as Ichigo kissed his dick. "N-nobody wants—" His voice broke, stopped, as Ichigo licked his cock from base to tip, hard.

"Well … let's make sure you can't say that again," Ichigo said, and bent his head to Shuuhei's already reawakening erection. He sucked him off again, right then, with Shu twitching and shouting through it, hands fisted in Ichigo's hair.

Two hours later Ichigo woke Shu up by starting while he was still asleep, licking and kissing and sucking. "You're fucking gorgeous," he said to the younger man, caressing his balls. "Beautiful. I couldn't resist your sleeping face." Shu trembled, gasping, as Ichigo had him kneel on the floor while the redhead got on all fours in front of him. Shu controlled the movement this time, thrusting his hips as he fucked Ichi's mouth, one hand in Ichigo's hair, the other under his chin.

"Yeah …" Shuuhei gritted out. "Oh yeah … good … mm, that's good …."

Ichigo's hand kept straying to his own erection, and Shu said, his confidence in his sexiness re-emerging as he realized Ichigo was hard because of him, "D-Do it! Stroke it off, Ichi." So he did. Timed it almost perfectly, he thought, since they came at almost the exact same time.

"Shu …" Ichigo muttered, "yer so hot," as they laid, panting, on Ichigo's couch.

Shuuhei grinned. "Yeah?" he asked, still somewhat breathless.

"Ohh yeah."

In the afternoon, when Ichigo awoke, Shuuhei was already gone, of course. But he'd left a note in the kitchen. "Ichigo … I wish I was gay. I really do. See you soon? – Shuuhei" along with his cell number. Ichigo had smiled and made coffee.

XXX

Back to present day …

Shinji's family was in his room when Ichigo came in for his shift on Thursday night at 11. This was very odd, and unlike them, rarely were there visitors on Ichigo's shift. He frowned when he saw them but forcefully erased it when Shinji's mother saw him and came over. "Kurosaki-san, it is good to see you again," the small blonde woman said quietly. Chado had told him she always spoke as though Shinji was merely asleep and she was afraid to wake him up.

"Mrs. Hirako," Ichigo bowed, "the pleasure is mine." It had been over a year since they'd visited on Ichigo's shift, and that had been early morning, not late at night like this.

"We … we are here to begin … to make a decision, Kurosaki-san," she whispered.

Ichigo's stomach clenched. He kept his face calm and diplomatic. "Yes, ma'am?" No. Please don't say it. Please.

"We … are considering removing our son from the respirator," she said, voice cracking with sadness.

Ichigo was stricken with silence. He couldn't speak. His eyes went from Shinji to his mother and back again.

"Kurosaki-san … do you think that Shinji is happy? You did not know him before he came here, he was so energetic, so filled with life, he was like a force of nature, with his brilliant spirit and his …" she smiled sadly, "… his constant dancing and singing. Although he could not sing. Not at all, really." Her face was unutterably sad.

"I … I understand," Ichigo said, while inside he was raging. No! I don't understand! He's going to wake up!

"Please do not agitate yourself, Kurosaki-kun," Shinji's observant mother said, "we are only now beginning to speak of it. The family must discuss it. And then we must confer with Dr. Kuchiki. The actual decision is … a long way off." She uncharacteristically reached out and touched Ichigo's hand. "Thank you, Kurosaki-san, for all you do for my son. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." She bowed, very low, held it, and then rejoined her husband.

Ichigo kept himself busy until they left. He was nervy, anxious, hopped up … that was no way to be when he approached Shinji. So he tried to calm himself while doing all his little chores, reminding himself that life on a respirator is not life. It's maintenance.

He approached Shinji, looking down at his face, the silky blond hair. Would Shinji be able to breathe on his own? It wasn't likely. Not after all this time. Ichigo laid his hand on Shinji's cheek. "Shinji … " He didn't know what to say. So instead, he just repeated the man's name. "Shinji."

XXX

He was slumped on the bench between the rows of lockers, head in his hands, when someone suddenly sat down next to him. "Kurosaki … problem?" Aizen. Mother fucker, how had he let that creepy fuck sneak up behind him? Dammit.

"Ah, nothing I can't handle, Aizen-sensei," Ichigo mumbled, straightening up, looking away.

"Sure you don't want to talk about it? Maybe I can help. We could … go for breakfast? Or a drink later?" Aizen smiled, that sweet, friendly, false smile. His eyes were glued to Ichigo's mouth. Fucker.

The drink he could refuse without guilt or worry … the offer of breakfast, not so much. Bosses and workers had breakfast together all the time. Shit. "Breakfast actually sounds pretty good," Ichigo reluctantly admitted.

"Great … we can hit the cafeteria … or you could come to my place, I make a mean eggs benedict," again with that smile.

"I'll have to pass on the eggs benedict today, sir," Ichigo said, trying to sound like "oh, darn." But there was no fucking way he was going to Aizen's house alone! "The cafeteria is good enough for me."

So off they went. 0730 in a hospital cafeteria is a very busy time. Every-fucking-body saw Ichigo there with Aizen. He almost wished he'd gone to the man's house, at least then it wouldn't have been so damn public. Aizen was the perfect gentleman, though, amusing and entertaining, listening to Ichigo when he told him about Shinji's family and the upcoming decision, offering excellent medical advice, offering more, personally, if Ichigo needed it. "I'm here, Ichigo-kun, I mean it. I know you are aware that I would like to see you outside the professional arena …"

Huh? Jesus. What a way to put it! And ugh, hearing that man call him 'Ichigo-kun'. He didn't want to be here with this man, he wanted to go home and sleep. Then get up and go out with Renji. He couldn't think about Shinji anymore right now, especially since this was something over which he'd have no. Control. Whatsoever. Only his family could make the decision to let Shinji go. Perhaps Ichigo could give an opinion, but it wouldn't necessarily count. It was maddening. Frustrating. And he was on the verge of breaking over it.

"Well … I guess I'll see you next week, Aizen-sensei," Ichigo said, having been forced to walk out with the doctor.

"Yes. Unless … you change your mind. I am … a very attentive date, Ichigo-kun, and you must be aware that I find you attractive." Well. Apparently Aizen felt freer to speak his mind in the parking lot!

"I …" Ichigo began.

"Gentlemen," a smooth voice interrupted. Byakuya Kuchiki walked up, looking along the sidewalk for a cab? His driver? Whatever, Ichigo was glad to see him.

Aizen was, apparently, not. He frowned. "Kuchiki."

"Doctor Aizen," Byakuya said calmly, then he looked down at Ichigo. "Kurosaki."

Gawd.

He finally got away from Dr. Aizen at about 9 a.m. By then Ichigo was tired, doubly ready for bed, triply ready to just have his consciousness shut off -Shinji- for a while. Please, although I love him, please don't let Shu be there again, he thought. Gotta get some sleep!

Shu wasn't there, but there was a message on his answering machine from Orihime.

"Hello, Kurosaki-kun … would you be able to come in early on Sunday night? Perhaps 1030 hours or so? We are receiving a transfer and this gentleman will be assigned to your room. Thank you. Call me if you need to! Bye!"

She left another message immediately following this one.

"Oh, sorry, it's me again … Orihime, I mean … well … will we be seeing you tonight at Seireitei? I hope so! I know you will have a lot of fun! Well, anyway, bye again!"

A message from Renji: "Heyyy, Strawberry! I know how much ya like that." Evil snicker. "ANYhow … meet us at Seireitei tonight at about midnight, yeah? I know that's right up your alley, with your schedule." Pause. "Seriously, Ichigo? Come out tonight. Really. See ya there."

The last message was the kicker. "Ichigo … hello, it's me, Starrk. I'll be in town next week. I want to see you again. I'll call you when I get in." Was that a yawn? Ichigo smiled. "All right, talk to you then."

Starrk Coyote. Son of a bitch. When it rains, it pours.

XXX

This seemed like a natural ending place. Hope you liked it and thanks for reading! XD

More soon.

Ahvienda