So many reads and positive feedback – Glad you all like this! Kinda diverted from the actual 'Voice' but still – we're getting there! Enjoy 3

When it had been over 5 minutes waiting in stuffy and quiet car Shiro began to worry – he wasn't sure if Ichigo was in trouble or if he was simply tying up loose ends. When the time he had been absent approached 10 minutes Shiro's gut clenched painfully, his mind running through various scenarios until finally he got out, slammed the door behind him and entered the house. He was already rushing towards the living room when he heard a low voice growl "pathetic" making him move faster. When he saw Ichigo slumped against a wall, cowering under a man who had his fist raised his vision blackened. The next thing he knew, he was in front of Ichigo acting like a protective barrier whilst holding the man's fist in a vice like grip. "Shiro," Ichigo breathed.

"Sorry I'm late,"

Shiro glared into the eyes of Kurosaki Isshin and felt his insides boil in anger. His golden eyes darkened dangerously at the thought of what this supposed 'father' had done – Not just what he was about to do but what torture he had put Ichigo through before Shiro had met him. The lingering effects were always there: The way Ichigo always looked over his shoulder expecting someone to be watching him; the way he flinched at the smallest things; the way he would force himself not to cry or freeze up every time Shiro wanted to express his love – it was all because of this man. Shiro growled and tightened his grip on the man's fist, his fit of rage drowning out the words Ichigo was trying through convey to him. "Shiro – let him go!"

More images whirled in his mind, Ichigo's voice doing nothing but convincing him that he should pay for what he had done. Isshin's face was now consorted in pain as the albino slowly began to crush his bones; a feral grin beginning to spread on his face at the man's agony. Funny how he doesn't like it when it's happening ta 'im! "Shiro stop!"

Shiro's grin dropped at the note of desperation in Ichigo's voice and dropped the hand that was now bleeding from where the bones had snapped and pierced the skin. Whilst Isshin cradled his injured hand, his teeth biting down on his lip to prevent a cry, Shiro spun around and began helping Ichigo up. "Are ya alright?" he asked.

Ichigo nodded, his eyes darting to his father who was now stepping towards them. "Bastard," he growled lowly before cutting off into a sharp laugh. "Who would've thought the customer would be defending his play toy!"

Shiro didn't have time to move forward and shatter his hand completely before he was directing another comment in Ichigo's direction. "Looks like you really have picked up a few tips from those boys – are you really that good?"

Isshin moved forward, his usual rage displayed back on his face as he glared evilly at his son. Just as he raised his hand, Shiro took hold of the other, Isshin's face immediately crumpling under the pain whilst Shiro spat out, "Don't ya dare touch 'im,"

Shiro clenched down on the broken hand one more time as a warning before pushing Ichigo by the shoulders, eager to put as much distance between themselves and that monster. As soon as they stepped outside the wall that Ichigo had put between himself and Shiro crumbled sending him into a blubbering mess. Without even bothering to get to the comfort of the car and protect themselves from the beginning of a storm, Shiro embraced the berry; Ichigo wrapping him arms tightly around him. He was the only one he could trust right now. Shiro so badly wanted to ask what his father had said and what he had meant about picking up tips but now was not the right time. "I'm s-sorry," Ichigo hiccupped, wiping his hand across his tear stained face.

"Don't be," Shiro whispered cupping Ichigo's face in his pale hands.

"It's not what it sounded like," he mumbled, referring to what had been eating Shiro's mind.

Shiro was just about to reply that he didn't care when a high pitched voice cut him off. "Ichigo!"

Shiro turned and snarled when a small, petite raven-haired woman came marching up, her eyes sending daggers into Shiro which was not appreciated at all. "Ichigo! What the hell are you doing with him, I told you -,"

Rukia stopped abruptly when she saw the tears streaming down her friends face and the possessive yet gentle and reassuring way Shiro held him. "Ichigo? What happened?" she asked her voice now laced with concern as she edged towards him.

Ichigo sighed and ran a hand through his hair, Shiro noting that he had now intertwined his hand with his own and was clenching it tightly as he tried to stop shaking uncontrollably. "Guess I should start from the beginning,"

Ichigo took a long deep gulp of the boiling coffee that had been placed down in front of him, ignoring the way it scalded the back of his throat. Rukia stared down at the table in front of them in unblinking disbelief, her head constantly shaking as she tried to make sense of the situation. "I just can't believe it," she uttered.

"Well ya should," Shiro gritted out in annoyance.

Ichigo glanced up at the albino, hoping that his anger would distract them all from the real problem at hand – of course it would never be that simple. "What happened?" Rukia asked quietly, her question referencing to what went on in the house.

Shiro sat down next to Ichigo, his subtle way of telling Ichigo that he too wanted to know. He didn't know where to start. He could just replay them the events that happened when he tried and failed to confront his father. Or he could go deeper than that and get to the root of the problems. "Ichi," Shiro mumbled, "What did he mean?"

"What do you mean!? About what!?" Rukia cut in, confused with what they were on about.

Ichigo exhaled shakily and concentrated on getting through the story rather than the way his voice was cracking as he began the story. "When I was 15, I came out to everyone – most people had already guessed but I wanted to give my parents a piece of mind instead of having to figure it out a wait for years. 15, was also the year when I was raped," he choked out.

Ichigo clenched his eyes shut for a second allowing himself to calm down as well as the others who were either sucking in sharp breath or clenching the table in anger. "They were in my final year at school and had heard that I had come out. They were bored with all the usual blond chicks and decided it would be fun to hold me down and treat me like one of those whores," he spat out, his anger now replacing any other trace of emotion.

"That was when my father began to despise me. Although I didn't know it until now but he hated me for something I couldn't help. I had been traumatised by their 'little' game and went into withdrawal. My father said he hated me for being so weak; he said it's what made my mother die,"

"Ichigo - her death was never your fault," Rukia cut in, knowing half of what happened at this point.

"That's what I used to think," he admitted. "But now that I look back on it . . . ," he trailed off.

"I was 16 when my mother died," he began, as if to clarify for Shiro. "We were having an argument – well, I was shouting at her. She was trying to help me but it sounded at the time as if she was accusing me of being weak just like father was. I snapped and for the first time in almost a year I spoke. I shouted continuously at her and then ran off. I ran into an alley way hoping she would leave me alone,"

"She did. She stayed around the corner out of sight but in ear shot, in case I needed her. Then the boys came again. It was pure coincidence but they didn't seem to mind – they had been waiting for their favourite 'play-toy' to return,"

"Ichi – you don't ha-,"

"I shouted for her," Ichigo cried out, his hands beginning to shake violently as he relived that painful night.

"I shouted and she came running. Before I knew it she was standing in front of me and getting stabbed. It was meant to be aimed at me but she got to me at the last minute and threw herself at them. It's my fault,"

Ichigo looked down at his hands as if the blood was still there and gave a hysterical and unstable laugh. "My father forced me to go into medicine to 'repent' for my sins. He would hit me over and over getting me to muffle my cries to stop my sisters from hearing – said it was a test. He wanted me to become stronger instead of being the weak son who let his wife die,"

Rukia shook her head in incredulity wanting nothing more than to shoot herself for how she turned Ichigo in. Shiro cut Ichigo off from saying anything more and pulled him to his chest allowing him to scream his frustration and sorrow out, the others cringing at how heart-breaking it sounded. It wasn't long before Ichigo had cried himself to exhaustion and fell asleep on Shiro. The albino sighed and got up, Ichigo in his arms, and headed to the bedroom where Ichigo could finally rest at ease. Shiro gazed down at Ichigo and tugged a stray curl behind his ear before turning to Rukia who had her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to puzzle things together. "What are you going to do about Grimmjow?" she murmured.

"He won't do anything in public and as long as Ichigo is not on his own. We just need ta make it through ta either the finals or until Ichigo is voted out and then he'll have nothing ta do with 'im,"

"I hope you're right," she muttered. "Isshin won't stay quiet you know. He's going to do everything in his power to get Ichigo back,"

"Let 'im try,"

Rukia sighed and dismissed herself leaving Ichigo and Shiro alone. Shiro kissed the berry's nose and buried them both under the covers, his arms instantly going around protecting the boy. "I promise Ichi – I'll protect ya,"

So. . . . the 'Voice' ended today! Hope you still read this despite that! Please review!