Chapter 13 – When First We Practice

Warning, Will Robinson! – Yaoi sex, nasty talk, adult situations

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Bleach … or Lost in Space, either! XD

Ichigo Kurosaki was dreaming. Unbeknownst to him, he'd passed out in his homage position, abruptly collapsing forward onto his face, still kneeling. He breathed deeply and evenly. In the dream …

… he was on a beach, a beautiful nameless beach, who knew where. The sun shone onto his back as he sat up, looking out at the water. Crystal teal blue, the color of Grimmjow Jaegerjaques' hair, white sand, fluffy white clouds in the distance. Someone was playing in the water at the edge of the sea, splashing and leaping about joyfully. Shoulder-length black hair, body tanned golden brown by the sun, he was a young teen – perhaps 14 or 15 years old? Even from behind, Ichigo recognized him immediately. Ramon. Ramon Constanza. One of—

"Hey, Ichigo! C'mere! Look at this one!" His excited voice broke into Ichigo's reverie and he rose to his feet, easily, although his hips ached when he stood straight up. He walked through the warm sand until he stood at the water's edge.

Ramon ran up to him, a beautiful seashell in his hands. "Look! It's a harpa, right? See the little scalloped markings? It's the best one I've ever found!" He laughed. Ichigo chuckled, he couldn't help it. Ramon had a beautiful voice and an infectious laugh. It was one Ichigo had never heard in real life, Ramon had only been silent and still all the time Ichigo had known him.

"It's gorgeous," Ichigo agreed, taking the large shell when Ramon handed it to him. But he couldn't look at it for long. His eyes were pulled up to look at the slender youth in front of him. Medium height, long lean limbs with runner's muscles, snapping black eyes and bright white teeth in a handsome smile. Ramon alive and well, brimming with health and vitality. It was a beautiful picture.

"I found some more, too, but this is the best one," he said. "While you were sleeping. How's your hips?"

"Well, funny you should ask … they ache a little bit … hey, wait a minute. How did you know?" Ichigo couldn't tear his eyes away from this vibrant living Ramon. It hurt his heart while at the same time, it comforted him.

"Well, you kinda fell asleep in a weird way, didn't you?" Ramon said, tilting his head to the side, squinting up at Ichigo. "Your body, y'know. It's all splayed out and your hips are gonna hurt like hell when you wake up, man." He grinned, white teeth shining against his dark skin.

"I …" Ichigo was confused. But Ramon clapped him on the shoulder and then took his hand, pulling him into the warm water.

"C'mon, Ichigo … you shouldn't waste a good dream like this. You have too many nightmares to let something like this go without taking advantage of it!" He pulled Ichigo into the small waves, walking out toward the horizon, until they were waist-deep. "Isn't it great? Ah, man, I miss stuff like this. That's why I begged them to let me be the one to come. And they finally agreed, prolly to get rid of me, what do you think of my strategy?" He laughed again, delightfully, then suddenly dunked down into the surf, coming up spluttering and shaking his long black hair backwards from his face. Water droplets clung to his skin, shimmering in the sunlight. Beautiful.

Ichigo felt tears fill his eyes. This was the Ramon that could have been, should have been, if he hadn't been beaten near to death by his stepfather. May he rot in hell, Ichigo thought. But that thought was stopped in its tracks when Ramon stepped in close and folded Ichigo up in his strong, warm arms.

"Now, none of that," he murmured. "Look," he said, touching his fingers to Ichigo's face. "Pearls. Neat trick, huh?" He smiled as Ichigo tore his gaze away to look at the glowing pearls in Ramon's palm. "Don't cry, Ichigo. We hate it when you cry." They stood there for a while, Ichigo wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man, holding on for all he was worth, the waves gently rising and falling around them.

"Feels so real," Ichigo whispered.

"What is 'real'?" Ramon said. "If you feel it, in your heart and soul, just because it's taking place in your head, does that make it unreal? I don't think so." He patted Ichigo's back, then leaned backward, holding the orange-haired male at arms' length. "Come on. Let's take a walk. It's too nice here to stand still, don't you think?"

Ichigo's hips felt like they were filled with ground glass now, but he only grimaced slightly as he turned and began walking with Ramon through the surf. Ramon kept an arm around Ichigo's waist. They angled up and out of the water until it was just about calf-height. Ramon splashed through the blue water, laughing when small fishes – disturbed by their legs – began jumping out of the sea around them, silver sides flashing in the sun.

"You keep saying 'we'," Ichigo said.

"Yep."

"You mean …."

"Yep. All of us. You took care of us," Ramon said, giving Ichigo's waist a squeeze. "We love you, Ichigo, and we don't want you to be unhappy. And you are unhappy, most of the time. It hurts us to see it."

Ichigo had no reply for a moment. What a weird dream this was. So real, but so unreal. What was real? He put a hand to his head, closing his eyes.

"Listen," Ramon said. "I don't have much time left. That blue-haired guy is coming." The sun was suddenly sinking lower on the horizon, leaving a long orange streak in the ocean, shining a warm golden glow onto Ramon's tanned skin. He turned to face Ichigo, holding him by the biceps, looking earnestly up into his face. The teen's eyes, so dark brown you almost couldn't tell where the pupils began, stared into Ichigo's. Those eyes. So beautiful. Ramon had only had one eye when he'd been in Ichigo's care … the right one had had to be removed by the doctors, it had been damaged so badly during that final beating. But now … Ichigo's heart clenched in his chest. Whole, handsome, so full of life.

Ramon shook him to get his attention. "Hey, pay attention, man," he said, chuckling. "I know I'm a hottie, but you gotta focus, Ichigo." He laid a palm alongside Ichigo's cheek. "We know what you're doing, and why. And we love you, and love that you remember us. But … ah, dammit … I'm sorry, guys, I tried! Don't be mad at me, time got away from me!"

Ichigo, sorely confused, looked at Ramon, frowning slightly. "What?"

"Great, now they're all gonna be pissed at me," the youth grumbled. But his sunny smile was suddenly back, shining with love as he looked into Ichigo's face. "You're a smart guy, you'll figure it out. Life is for the living, Ichigo … heard that before, haven't ya?"

"Y-yes, but—" The sun was setting, cut in half by the watery horizon. Stars began to peek out here and there, shimmering in the surface of the suddenly still water. A fin broke the surface and then slid out of view. A sea bird called, its song plaintive and mournful.

"Take care of Shinji for us … we don't want to see him for a while, y'know?" Ramon pulled Ichigo closer, hugging him tightly.

"I—I will. But, Ramon—"

"And tell Chad not to walk through the park on his way to work Tuesday morning. Trust us. Okay? … I know, I know he's coming … I am hurrying, will you let me get on with it?" He suddenly turned his head and kissed Ichigo full on the mouth – and such a kiss. Love, longing, memory, hope – how a kiss could convey such complexity, Ichigo didn't know, but it did. He responded, answering the kiss as best he could. Warm lips, salty from ocean spray, soft wet tongue. It seemed to go on and on, but that couldn't be real, right?

"That's from Ulquiorra and Hayato … okay, okay! … actually from all of us, but they insisted the strongest," Ramon said, chuckling. He straightened. "Whoops – here he is. Bye, Ichigo. It was nice meeting you. Remember, tell Chad! And remember, we're watching out for you … and we love you … oh! And—"

"Hey! Jesus Christ, are you okay, Ichigo?" Strong arms were around him, and suddenly gave him a good shaking. Ichigo moaned. His hip joints felt like they were on fire, they ached deep inside, sending bolts of referred pain down his legs. "You were all slumped over, are you all right?" Ichigo moaned again. His mouth was so dry, it felt like his tongue was a lumpy foreign object in his mouth.

"All right, we're getting you to the monks. Hang on, man," the deep, anxious voice of Grimmjow Jaegerjaques said in Ichigo's ear. He was scooped up in a pair of strong arms, and then Ichigo lost consciousness again.

XXX

Grimmjow sat by Ichigo's bedside, chewing on the inside of his lip. The orange-haired man was so still, all Grimm could see was the gentle rise and fall of his chest under the thin blanket. His face was so pale, it nearly matched the fever strip the monks had placed on his forehead. His freckles stood out in stark relief. His lips were pale, appearing bloodless in the dim light. Anemia and dehydration, bringing on a fever, they'd told him. Did that really happen to people? Sounded like something out of a shoujo manga to Grimm.

It had been dark when he found Ichigo, way back in the woods behind the temple. How he'd found him, Grimm would never know, it'd been almost like someone or something was guiding his steps until he found the hidden path, nearly invisible by the overgrowth of bushes that lined the proper walkway. Pushing his way through the underbrush, finally coming out into the small clearing and seeing the crumpled body in a shaft of moonlight – Grimmjow had thought his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

When he'd arrived at the steps of the temple, carrying the limp body of Ichigo in his arms, the monks had quietly and efficiently taken charge. He'd been directed to one of the guest "cells", where he laid Ichigo down on a thin futon in the middle of the four-tatami-mat room. They'd checked his temperature and placed the strip on his head. Water was brought to the room, a bowl of cool water and a decanter and glass for when Ichigo woke up. Grimmjow was pressed into service – like he'd have left anyway! – then was left to watch over the sleeping man, with the admonishment that he call for help if needed.

That had been an hour ago. Ichigo showed no signs of waking up. What the hell. Grimmjow leaned over him and peered into his face. "Hey," he said quietly. "Hey, Ichigo … wake up, man, and have somethin' to drink." Not a twitch. "Oy. Ichigo. Come on … you have to drink something. Otherwise you're gonna end up in the hospital." Nothing. "Okay, fine. You're going to take some water whether you like it or not." He filled the glass with water from the carafe, then took a drink, swallowing a few gulps (he was thirsty, too!) but keeping a mouthful intact. Then he leaned over and kissed Ichigo, slowly parting his lips. When he was successful, he let trickles of water enter Ichigo's mouth, stroking his throat lightly with one hand to stimulate him to swallow.

It worked. Convulsively, Ichigo swallowed small mouthfuls of water as Grimmjow fed them to him. He kept at it until the glass was empty. Then he re-wet the fever strip on the redhead's forehead and settled back to wait. Was it his imagination or did the handsome Ichigo seemed to rest easier now? "Hey, I'm a great nurse, too. Who knew?" he said out loud, chuckling.

The night wore on, becoming chilly in the small room. Grimmjow grew sleepy. He tried changing positions and still found himself starting to drop off. Even Ichigo's thin futon seemed luxurious now. So when the idea came to lie down next to the other man and catch a few winks, he embraced it – literally. He fed Ichigo more water, then lifted the thin blanket and crawled under it, plastering himself to the oranget's side, lifting his head to slide one muscular arm under it, pulling him close and offering the warmth of his body as comfort. Yeah, that's right, he thought. I'm the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. His ego appeased, he drifted off into a much-needed sleep.

XXX

A biological clock is a powerful thing. Ichigo's woke him up around midnight, his circadian rhythm still keeping him to mid-shift time. His eyes fluttered open, he blearily looked around the unfamiliar room. He licked his lips and swallowed, then shifted position. Or at least, tried to. Something was holding him down. He turned his head to the side and, in the light of a small lantern that burned merrily nearby, saw messy blue peeping out from the blanket. Ichigo's eyes opened wide. What the hell? He squirmed around and slid out from under a long muscular arm, then sat up, looking around, finally bringing his gaze back onto the sleeping body of Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

Okay. Okay. What was the last thing he remembered. He was … uh … his brain was receiving conflicting messages. Okay then, start from the top. The incident with Byakuya, the visit from Shuu, the revelations he'd had in his apartment. Calling Orihime and cancelling the date at Seireitei. Making up his mind to go to the temple. Finding the small remote altar and kneeling down to pray, to commune with his beloveds. And then … and then … Ramon's face drifted across the landscape of his inner vision. He'd had a dream … a good dream. But it was like trying to hold the wind in his hands, the contents of the dream shifted and resisted remembrance. A seashell, graceful and lovely. The call of a seabird. His lips tingled with the memory of a warm kiss, the trickle of water into his mouth … wait.

Ichigo shook his head. What the hell? He frowned and his forehead felt funny. A quick check found the fever strip, which he peeled off and stared at. He put it aside, near a bowl half-full of water, a decanter with a few inches of water in it, and an empty glass. Suddenly viciously thirsty, he grabbed the decanter and emptied it in a few swift swallows. It was heavenly. Putting the carafe back down on the tatami, he finally turned to observe his bedmate.

Grimmjow slept quietly, on his side with his head pillowed on one muscular arm. His sleeping face was oddly innocent-looking. Ichigo was a sucker for sleeping faces – which made sense, seeing as how all the men he'd fallen in love with up 'til now had been 'sleeping'. Grimmjow's face was extraordinarily handsome in repose. The soft, almost-delicate-looking eyebrows, blue as his hair. His eyelashes, too, Ichigo noticed. They were long, brushing his cheeks. No frown lines between his brows, that wild hair shining in the lamplight, his unfashionable sideburns … Ichigo shook his head ruefully. He was a piece of work, wasn't he. A handsome, sexy piece of work, a sneaky little voice said in Ichigo's head.

But what was he doing here? How? Belatedly noticing that he (Ichigo) was almost naked – and the room was cold – he shivered and started to disentangle his legs from Grimmjow's.

"Mmf … hold still, Zay," Grimmjow mumbled quietly.

Aww. He was dreaming about his brother. Ichigo smiled, patted Grimmjow on the shoulder, and whispered, "sorry … go back to sleep," and slid his legs out from under the bluenet's. At once, a strong arm wrapped around his hips, pulling him back snugly up against a warm body.

"Hol' still … 's cold … nn," Grimmjow grumbled as he snuggled close, pulling the blanket up around the two of them again. Ichigo laid there like a statue, feeling the warmth of the other man banish his goose bumps. He could push the other man away … he could sneak out from under his warm arm and get up … he could get dressed and leave. But he was warm … and it felt so good with the other man pressed so closely up against his side. It was cold in the guest cell … he could imagine how it was outside right now … and he hadn't worn a coat over his suit when he'd been out and about the previous day.

So warm. Ichigo carefully used his left hand to stroke lightly up the arm that held him so securely. A soft snore met his efforts, so he was emboldened to do more. He turned his head and found his face in the hollow of Grimmjow's neck … and he smelled so good. He breathed in deeply, taking in the man's scent, nostrils flaring. A low moan escaped him and he froze. But rumbly snoring – not loud, kinda cute actually – was the only response, so Ichigo relaxed again.

Belatedly he noticed that he was half-hard and well on his way to being fully erect. Achingly so. Oh, shit. The warmth, that scent, the hard body that held him so tight … he wasn't immune to such a sensual onslaught. Far from it. He squirmed slightly, resulting in a tightening of the arm around his waist. The leg that was thrown over his thighs shifted, bending at the hip and knee and coming up higher, ending up coming into contact with Ichigo's tight scrotum. The gentle pressure was enough to make him shudder deliciously. He was breathing heavily now, soft chuffs against Grimmjow's neck.

Whatever it was that woke him, however long he'd actually been awake, Grimmjow wasn't one to mistake the signs of an aroused man in his arms. "Shh," he whispered, making Ichigo's fingers clench slightly on his forearm. "'S okay," he rumbled in a sleep-rusty voice. "Lemme take care o' you." His arm shifted, loosened from around Ichigo's waist, traveled with rough caresses down his body. When his fingers came into contact with Ichigo's erection, currently merrily tenting his underwear, Ichigo's back arched spasmodically, his muscles tightening of their own volition. Grimmjow rubbed that hardness through the thin material, outlining its shape, moving down to cup Ichigo's balls and squeeze them gently before moving back to stroke and caress a now-twitching cock.

"Uhn," Ichigo breathed, lost in sensation. The rubbing hand felt so good, the body next to his was so warm and so sensuous. He could feel Grimmjow's dick stirring against his right hip. But he completely lost all coherent thought when that hand slid inside the waistband of his boxer briefs and clasped his naked dick. Oh. Oh, yes. Stroking, softly at first, fingers just barely brushing against the taut skin, slipping down to caress his balls, then back up to stroke again. Ichigo shuddered with pleasure, earning a soft chuckle over his head.

"Feels good, yeah?" that gravelly voice said, oh-so-softly. "I can tell … you're getting all slippery down here." Pre-seminal fluid, leaking freely from Ichigo's slit, now caught up by talented fingers and spread deliciously all over his throbbing head and hard shaft. Grimmjow's hand grasped Ichigo's cock tightly now, pulling it up so the underwear slid down and out of the way – and began stroking in earnest.

"Ah! Ah! Yess …" Ichigo tried to keep his cries quiet, and for the most part he was successful. His hips began to flex slightly in time with that hand, it was so good, so good.

"It's all right," Grimmjow said. "I'll take care of you. Let it go." His dick was now painfully hard, pressed tightly up against Ichigo's hip. Grimm was trying to ignore it, but it was pulsating for attention. He swallowed hard and forced his concentration to the task at hand. No pun intended. He squeezed, smearing pre-cum all over that pretty cock, clenching Ichigo close with his right leg and left arm. Stroke, stroke, slide one finger up and over the head, stroke again, slide a fingertip into the slit – making Ichigo shudder and cry out softly – then sliding his slippery hand up and down again and again. Increasing the rhythm, pressing a kiss to orange hair, helplessly rubbing his dick against the other man's side.

Ichigo could feel it. Grimmjow was moving his hips, was he aware of it? Who cared. The feeling of that hard, long cock pressing up against his side was amazing, so sexy, he couldn't help it, he turned in Grimmjow's arms to face him, lifting his face to press a hot kiss to the other man's neck. Instantly he was gripped, so tightly, pulled close, Grimmjow ripped his own underwear down and gasped roughly when their dicks pressed together. He circled both in his big-handed grip. With an audible groan he resumed stroking, lathering them both with a mixture of their pre-cum, slippery and hot.

Ichigo reached up with his free hand and laced his fingers into Grimmjow's hair – so soft! – and pulled his head down. Their lips met in a searing kiss, both their bodies were taut, straining against each other, shaking with need and desire. Grimmjow could feel Ichigo's heat blazing off his body – did he still have a fever? Was he making things worse? But then Ichigo's tongue entered his mouth and blasted all the thoughts out of his head. Hot, wet, sliding in and caressing Grimm's tongue, he gave up all pretense of stopping and sucked on it blissfully.

"Nnh … mmm!" Ichigo subvocalized, his body shaking uncontrollably now, gripping Grimmjow with desperate strength.

Grimm broke the kiss. "Yeah," he grunted, pulling his upper body back just enough to look down at Ichigo's upturned face. His eyes were closed, his face was flushed, his lips were wet from their kisses, pleasure stamped on his features. "Oh yeah," he said, then leaned in to take Ichigo's lower lip in his mouth, sucking it, nibbling on it. He quickened the pace, reveling in the sensations: Ichigo's body, pressed tightly up against his … their dicks, sliding wetly against each other, gripped tightly in his fist … Ichigo's breath gusting out onto his face … the pleasure intensifying in his belly, growing and glowing red-hot … Ichigo's fingers clenching his hair, pulling … ah, gods yeah. He bit Ichigo's lip.

"Ah! Nn … ahh!" Ichigo's body froze, shuddered, and spasmed as his lip popped free. "Coming! Ah!" Warm cum spurting out of him to splatter their bellies. Grimmjow watched Ichigo's face while he came … and that sexy, gorgeous face as it glowed with pleasure pushed Grimm hell-for-leather into his own orgasm – which felt so fuckin' good he had to forcibly stop himself from shouting out loud. Instead he gasped for breath, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and kept stroking until the pleasure was so intense it was painful. "Gah," he groaned, opening his eyes again when the waves faded to a soft glow. Ichigo's face was tucked under Grimm's chin again, both of them breathing heavily, shaking with reaction. Grimmjow rumbled low laughter deep in his chest. "Damn," he said quietly, in between heavy breathing, "I don't think I could get up even if this futon suddenly burst into flames." Aftershocks had him shaking. Fuck, it was good.

No response from Ichigo. "Hey … you asleep again already?" Grimmjow asked. "I dunno if that's a compliment or not." He chuckled again. Still no response. Was it now that Grimmjow suddenly noticed his companion was blazing hot? Perhaps it was because the heat in his own body had begun to abate, so the fever that had returned to Ichigo's body was more noticeable. "Shit!" Grimm cursed quietly. He extricated himself and laid Ichigo down on his back. Yeah, he was burning up. He soaked the fever strip again and laid it back on the other man's forehead, fed him more water, and used his own shirt to wipe him off.

After a visit to the small attached bathroom on still-shaky legs, Grimmjow mixed the aspirin powder he'd found in the medicine cabinet into a glass of water and fed that to the sleeping? unconscious? Ichigo. Sitting on his haunches next to the oranget, he ran a hand through his messy blue hair and chuffed out a breath. What a day. And what an ending! He stared down at the sleeping man, worrying about him. He sat there, brooding as he watched over Ichigo, not moving aside from his duties to keep the forehead fever strip watered.

XXX

Morning came. At 8:00 a.m., Grimmjow got up, fed Ichigo more aspirin-laced water, and went to the bathroom. When he came back he was dressed, although he wasn't wearing the soiled shirt. He sat back down and dribbled more water on the strip. He thought Ichigo seemed to be sleeping normally, his fever reduced, although that could be because of the aspirin. He had no idea. But Ichigo was calm and quiet, his chest rising and falling slowly under the blanket.

Grimmjow's phone vibrated in his pocket. He answered it, keeping his voice down. Listened for a few seconds. Then he cursed loudly, leapt to his feet, and tore out of the room at a run.

XXX

7:15 a.m. Luppi was sitting at the nurse's desk in room 13, stifling a yawn. He was pulling weekend duty for a friend, they'd switched shifts so that the friend could take his girlfriend on a special date to the Aquarium. Now he was regretting it, of course … but he'd be happy about it when he had Wednesday off later in the week. He looked at the computer screen, where he was reviewing the nursing notes left by the midshift nurse. They'd done report, of course, but he still liked to go over the notes just in case report left something out. And he'd look at all the labs, too. Luppi was a very efficient nurse, very good at his job, very thorough and reliable, for all his personal faults.

A blip from one of the patient monitors caught his attention immediately. He got up and walked across the room, looking at it intently. A PVC … then another. "What the fuck," he muttered, watching, glancing down at the patient. [A/N – PVC: premature ventricular contraction. Not a danger by itself in an otherwise healthy person, this premature heart beat can signal trouble] Another one. Luppi watched, becoming more and more concerned as the PVC's began to stack up, one after the other.

Then the EKG monitor began to alarm as the trace launched into easily recognizable V-tach. [A/N – Ventricular tachycardia, an abnormal heart rhythm that can rapidly lead to V-fib (ventricular fibrillation, uncontrollable fluttering of the ventricles of the heart, not a viable life-sustaining rhythm) or asystole (no heart rate at all) or death] Luppi swore loudly and raced over to the wall near the nurse's desk where he smacked the Code Blue alarm button on the wall. Immediately the overhead pager activated. "Code Blue, 3rd Floor, Room 313. Code Blue, 3rd Floor, Room 313." He grabbed the backboard from its place behind the nurse's desk and ran back to the patient's bedside. By the time he got there, the rhythm had already deteriorated into V-fib, the scrawling trace line making a jagged mark across the monitor.

When the Code team arrived, Luppi had already managed to pull Szayel up, put the backboard under his body, and was up on top of him, doing chest compressions. The team went to work – defibrillator pads were slapped onto Szayel's chest and the defibrillator was charging up to give a starting shock of 200 Joules. "Clear!" the anesthesiologist barked, and Luppi jumped down. "Shock!" the doctor said grimly, and the tech hit the button. Szayel jerked as the machine shot 200 Joules into his chest. Everyone watched the monitor.

"V-tach … resume compressions … give a full dose of Bicarb and follow it with epinephrine … stand by with the defibrillator." Luppi was the first person to leap back onto the bed and start up chest compressions again. "Atropine next," the doctor ordered, watching the trace as he pushed the emergency meds.

"He's fibrillating again!" the tech shouted, followed closely by, "charging!"

"Make it 300 Joules this time," the anesthesia doc ordered. "Ready? Okay, clear!" Luppi hopped off the bed, gasping from the exertion, his face white and grim. "Shock!" the tech said, and hit the button again. Everyone watched the trace. "We've got a rhythm!"

"He's a little tachy, but it'll do," the doctor. "Set up a lidocaine drip, I don't like that blood pressure. Luppi, contact the cath lab, he's gotta get in there now."

"Got it," the little nurse primly said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. After a brief conversation, he reported, "They're sending up a gurney and getting the room ready. ETA ten minutes."

"Good. I'll go with him. Let's get him ready for transport. Jake," he said to the tech, "Page Dr. Kuchiki."

XXX

It was after Szayel had been transported to the cardiac catheterization lab that Luppi had the time to call his family and report that their loved one had had a heart attack and was in the cath lab having coronary artery stents placed. The prognosis was good. He was in critical but stable condition, at present. He'd had to hold the phone away from his ear when Grimmjow cursed loudly and then hung up on him. Luppi sighed, looking over at Shinji where he slept on, unaware of the drama that had just taken place. He hoped Szayel was going to be okay. Luppi had taken a liking to the pink-haired man.

XXX

When Ichigo woke up, he felt refreshed and well. He'd slept through most of the day, tended by the monks after Grimmjow left. A monk sat cross-legged next to him now, apparently meditating. But when Ichigo stirred and sat up, the monk's eyes opened. He got up, walked to the sliding door, and opened it to speak to another monk sitting outside. Moments later, a bowl was passed to him through the door. He turned and walked back to where Ichigo still sat on the futon, blanket bunched around his waist.

"Here, Kurosaki-kun … some congee. Eat it, if you please. Your stomach has been rumbling for the past three hours." [A/N – congee: the rice porridge given to people recovering from illness]

"Oh. Thank you, Roshi-sama," Ichigo said, placing his hands palms-together and bowing his head as he spoke. He took the bowl from the Abbot when it was offered and, at his urging, began to eat. It was bland, but it was good. He soon finished the entire bowl, feeling warm and full when he handed the bowl and chopsticks back to the monk.

"Kurosaki-kun … you have been visiting us for many years. We know you and we like you. Thus we do not like to see you troubled, or making yourself sick through self-deprivation. When your friend brought you to us, we were all concerned. You must take better care of yourself. We insist." The Abbot said all this in a very humble way, good will stamped on his aged features.

"I'm sorry, Roshi-sama … please forgive me. I didn't mean to trouble you," Ichigo began. The Abbot waved away all this talk of forgiveness. Ichigo continued, "Yesterday was … a very troublesome day. I just needed to meditate and think about things. I'm sorry, I forgot to eat or drink. I'll be more careful from now on, I promise."

"This is good." The Abbot sat there for a few moments of silence. Ichigo waited patiently – if the monk was done talking he would have left. "You are a singular young man, Kurosake-kun. I sense that your heart is full, yet empty. You have much, and yet you have nothing. This enigma will give me much to ponder. I think it would do you well if you pondered it as well. Will you do so?"

Ichigo, who valued the Master's viewpoint more than he could say, bowed his head. "Yes, Roshi-sama. I will."

"And will you return to discuss this with me? When you have meditated and received enlightenment concerning your enigma?" The Master smiled when he said this.

Ichigo smiled too, although ruefully. "Yes, sir. I will. I promise."

"Then I am content. Bring your interesting friends with you … those of the colored hair. Like gaudy birds, they are, chattering and interrupting this calm peaceful place. Oh, not in a bad way, Kurosake-kun, do not fret. Peace must be disturbed in order to be certain that it is there."

Huh? Ichigo wasn't entirely sure what the monk meant by that last part, but he could see the comparison between Renji and Grimmjow and two multi-colored, chattering birds. He smiled. "I will, Roshi-sama."

"Good." The monk said his farewells and left, leaving Ichigo to get dressed in silence. The walk out of the temple grounds was uneventful. Your heart is full, yet empty. He frowned as he rounded the last curve leading up to the torii. You have much, and yet you have nothing. He took the train back to the nearest station to his apartment, then walked the rest of the way, silently musing the Abbot's words.

It wasn't until he was back in his apartment, starting a pot of coffee, that he had a startling recall of an apparent fever-dream in which he'd gotten his rocks off with Grimmjow. He remembered waking up and finding himself next to bluenet, who had apparently taken care of him when he got sick or passed out or whatever. He remembered lying next to the other man, trying to keep warm as he shivered from the cold – or from fever. More than likely from fever.

But from there the memories were jumbled … mixed up with a dream he'd had, the one with Ramon that had been so … so strange. He needed to sit down, quietly, and try to sort things out. It was disturbing to have his head in a whirl like this.

The coffee was done. He poured a cup and doctored it up … then went into the bedroom, mug in hand, to find his cell phone. It was plugged in, charging. He picked it up, pressed the button to turn it on, and his eyebrows went up. So many messages! What had happened?!

Five minutes later Ichigo was changed and on his way to 3C.

XXX

He raced up the stairs, heart in his throat. Szayel-san! He had to be okay, he had to be. He hurried down the 3rd floor hallway to the nurse's station, but the only person there was the unit clerk. "Hey, Miki … who's the nurse in 313 tonight?"

Miki looked up, her expression blank. "It's Rikichi, like all Saturdays, Kurosake," she said. Miki was a tsundere from the word go. Her heart was soft and gooey like a caramel left out in the sun, but her exterior was grouchy and tart, quick to frown and grumble.

"Where is he?"

"Not my turn to watch him, Strawberry," Miki grouched, but then she relented. "He's in 313 … hasn't hardly been out here at all. And Orihime has been in since early, so she let the charge go home. She's in there too. Now run along! I'm very busy and important." She turned back to her computer screen, but not before he saw her face change. What? He couldn't wait, though, he had to see Szayel-san!

"Thanks, Miki," Ichigo gasped as he took off down the hall. The door to 313 was open, so he entered, skidding to a stop just past the threshold. He froze as his eyes registered the scene before him: they were gathered around Szayel's bed, Rikichi, Grimmjow, his parents, two orderlies … the family members were crying, Mrs. Granz held in her husband's arms … even Grimmjow had the tracks of tears on his cheeks …. No. No! He – he couldn't be! Ichigo clutched the doorframe to steady himself as his head swam alarmingly.

"Excuse me, Kurosaki-kun," came a low voice behind him, and Ichigo started in surprise. He turned and saw Byakuya-sensei behind him, so he stumbled to the side so the doctor could enter. Ichigo followed him, steeling himself, not wanting to look at the bed, not wanting to see, no, no!

"Ichigo, you're not on duty tonight, are you?" Ichigo barely registered Rikichi's voice as the young nurse hurried up to him.

"N-no," Ichigo stammered. "I … I got my phone messages and had to come in. What … what happened?"

"Yeah, we've been trying to call you. All day! Are … are you okay?" Rikichi looked up at him, the tattoo over his left eye raising with his eyebrows.

"I – I got sick at the temple … I left my phone … Rikichi, what happened?" He stared at the young black-haired nurse, willing him to—

"So … this must be … the famous Ichigo-chan," a weak voice said from the bed. "Finally." The voice, unfamiliar, laughed weakly.

Ichigo looked … and his heart leapt up into his throat. Pink hair splayed across the pillow. But that wasn't what capture his attention and made him feel like he'd burst with joy. Awake … Szayel-san was awake! He almost ran to the side of the bed, staring, a huge grin blooming on his face. "Szayel-san!" He reached out and grabbed the man's hand where it lay next to him on the bed. Grimmjow was holding the other hand. "How … what …." He couldn't continue. Tears threatened, welled up in his eyes.

"Your constant … chattering," Szayel joked weakly. "I had to … wake up so I could … tell you to shut … the hell up." A smile creased his face. Chuckles from Grimmjow and Mr. Granz, the orderlies, too.

"He came out of it after the cardiac cath," Byakuya said from Ichigo's right side. "Just woke up like a regular cath patient would. It was … surprising, to say the least." He gave his typical tiny smile as he looked at Szayel's parents.

Relief had flooded over Ichigo in a wave. He clutched the pink-haired man's hand, grinning down at him. He couldn't speak for a few moments, but finally he found his voice and said, "Granz-san … welcome back."

"What happened … to first names … Ichigo-chan?" the man said, still obviously very weak. He was pale, too.

"Sorry. Szayel-san. Welcome back." Ichigo tore his gaze away and grinned at Grimmjow and his parents. "You've made everyone very happy."

"Took you long enough, ass-wipe," Grimmjow grumbled, his tear-tracked face belying the grouchy attitude. He held up his brother's hand and squeezed it, pressed it to his heart. "I'm getting' damn sick of this hospital food." He smiled down at his brother.

"I … can't wait to try … the hospital food," Szayel joked, and everyone laughed – even Kuchiki-sensei chuckled softly.

"Your Jell-O will be up shortly, Granz-san," Rikichi said, and everyone laughed again.

"J-Jell-O … sounds like … heaven," the recently-awakened man said, and then his eyes slowly began to drift shut.

"I think that's all the visiting for tonight," Byakuya said in a soft voice, reasserting his position as the patient's doctor. "Mr. and Mrs. Granz, if you will come with me? We need to discuss the rest of Szayel-san's treatment, his movement to another ward, and his rehabilitation." They kissed their sons goodbye and followed the doctor out of the room. Ichigo knew that Sensei would take them to a conference room so they could talk in private. The orderlies followed them out, after taking their leave and exacting Rikichi's promise to call them if he needed them.

"I'm stayin'," Grimmjow said, glaring at Rikichi and Ichigo in turn.

"As long as you don't bother the patient while he's trying to rest, that's fine, Jaegerjaques-san," Rikichi said quietly, pulling Szayel's blanket up to his chin. "Ichigo? Could you stay for a few minutes? I need to do some stuff with Shinji-san."

"Sure, Rikichi," Ichigo whispered. "Take all the time you want." He could hardly take his eyes off Szayel's sleeping face.

Rikichi smiled and patted Szayel's arm very softly, then pattered his way across the ward to disappear behind Shinji's screen. Ichigo stared down at Szayel, then looked up at Grimmjow on the other side of the bed. Grimmjow, seeing the movement, pulled his eyes away from his brother's face and looked at Ichigo, grinning widely. His face opened up and practically glowed, his happiness so obviously apparent that Ichigo felt like shielding his eyes.

"You never doubted it, did you," he whispered to Ichigo, still lightly holding his brother's hand.

"Not once," Ichigo said, very quietly. "I can't work any other way." He smiled back, relief and happiness on his face.

"And you were right," Grimmjow said, glancing back at his brother again. He paused for a bit, then said, "When I got that phone call this morning at the temple, I thought my head was gonna fuckin' explode. My brother – a heart attack! I thought he was a goner for sure. I never in a million years woulda thought that it'd be what woke him up."

"Shh," Ichigo hushed, reminding him to stay quiet. "Sometimes it just happens that way. We still don't know enough about the mechanism of coma. But I'm so glad for you – and your parents, too, of course. This is the best thing that could possibly happen." They grinned at each other like idiots.

Some moments passed, wherein Grimmjow just stared down at his sleeping brother and Ichigo checked out the monitor readings. A strong steady heartbeat … excellent blood pressure … slow, even breathing … small temp, but that was okay. He looked back at Grimmjow to see the other man watching him.

"How about you? You feelin' all right now?" the bluenet whispered.

"Yeah," Ichigo said, embarrassed, scratching his jaw with his free hand. "Thanks for, y'know, for taking care of me like you did."

"Oh-ho-ho," Grimmjow leered. "It was my pleasure. Trust me."

Ichigo blushed, he could feel the heat in his face. Grimmjow grinned at him. "I – I'm not sure what you … I mean … my fever, I'm not sure what …."

"I can tell you what happened, every detail, whenever you want," Grimmjow whispered. "I'll refresh your memory. Just know this – it wasn't no fuckin' fever dream." He laughed softly at Ichigo's expression.

Between them, feigning sleep, Szayel had no trouble staying motionless. He wanted to open his eyes and see what was going on with these two, but he didn't. The weakness made that easy. Interesting, he thought, only slightly agitated. Oh, he wasn't having any trouble at all with Grimmjow moving on. Not at all. The … thing … between them had ended long ago, and they were merely brothers now. Close, yes. But that was all.

But he clearly remembered the nurse's hands … those warm, loving hands. He remembered his careful way of handling him, of cleaning him, taking such excellent care of him. And he remembered his voice. That mellow, slightly rough voice, calming him … coaching him … coaxing him back to wakefulness. He remembered it very clearly. The voice that belonged to the orange-haired man standing at his bedside right now. The one getting mildly sexually harassed by his brother. Ichigo Kurosake. He remembered Ichigo's voice, oh, yes. Especially toward the end, here lately.

"I love you Szayel-san," he had said.

XXX

End Chapter 13

Uh-oh … what the hell now, Ichigo? Oh what a tangled web we weave, indeed! Although our poor Ichigo doesn't /try/ to deceive.

Hope the medical stuff didn't overwhelm anyone. I try to explain to make it easier, ie: not making ppl check Google in order to understand. Lol

More coming soon!

Ahvienda