It didn't take Grimmjow long to complete his six hours after that. In reality, neither of them were counting the time anymore. Grimmjow came to expect the phone call late at night, or for Stark to roll up unexpectedly and take him back to the casino.

He'd made his decision, but it wasn't exactly the one Aizen wanted. He had refused to move into the penthouse when offered. He admitted that he had discovered unexpected feelings for Aizen, but he was not going to start depending on him, or giving up his independence.

For now, Aizen respected his wishes. He gave him his space, but not so much space he would forget why he started wanting Aizen to call. They made a new deal. Grimmjow needed his new identity. If he was arrested or sent to hospital, they'd know who he was. He didn't tell Aizen the details, but the other agreed to help him. This deal, however, was to be paid in cash. It was the only way Grimmjow would have it.

So he returned to work when he finally had nearly full function in his hand again. He could put pressure on it, he could grip things, he could make a fist and punch—these were his requirements for making a living on the streets.

He had business as soon as he got his new number in the right circles. He started small, made a few private exchanges just to get himself back on track. As soon as he had the money to spare, he found Stark and made a payment on his ID. He dealt with Stark because he trusted him to keep honest about the cash and how much it really cost. He did not want to be given special treatment.

"It's all done," Stark informed him.

"What? I haven't paid yet."

"No, but you need it now." Grimmjow stiffened at the tone of his voice.

"Why? How much did you—"

"Kid I had to make you a new identity, so first I needed to know what I was hiding you from."

Grimmjow took a step back, steadying himself. Of course he knew this on some level but he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself.

"Did you tell Aizen?"

"No. This is a professional deal, so I've handled it as such. However, it's too risky to wait on giving it to you until you're all paid up."

"Why?"

"Police have been sniffing around you. I noticed the other day when I was waiting for Aizen-sama."

"What?"

"Don't know why yet and there's nothing we can do about it at the moment. But say they took you in, even just for questions. They'll start sniffing around your past—and any bodies buried there."

"Shut up, I get it."

"Good. Everything is in Aizen's office, come on."

They went upstairs. Aizen was at his desk. He pulled out the package when they arrived.

"You should go over the details with him," Aizen said when he passed the brown envelope to Stark.

"I will." Stark went over it all with them both, explaining that though he hadn't changed Grimmjow's name, he'd changed his place of birth, his birthdate, his parents' names. He'd changed his history, gave him a record as having completed school and even a passport. Grimmjow clutched the documents in this hand. He valued them like nothing else he'd even owned.

"Thank you," he said finally. "And I will finish paying."

"Of course." AIzen smiled and nodded to Stark who took the sign to leave. "It's nice to see you, Grimmjow. My day has been rather boring."

Grimmjow looked down on the papers scattered over his desk. "So you actually do paper work, huh?"

"When it's necessary." He rose and came around. "And I also take breaks when it's necessary."

He held Girmmjow's face with one hand as he pushed his tongue into his mouth. Fingers swept through his hair and down his back. He moved into it, his own hands closing over Aizen's suit front, gripping tight like a lifeline.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever feel completely comfortable. He wasn't sure if that was natural or not. But he knew his own limits, and so did Aizen. They'd pushed them a few times, but now instead of panic or pain these instances usually yielded greater pleasure.

He felt Aizen's heart beating hard beneath his hand. Then his arms were forced down as his jacket came off. When Aizen went for his shirt he pulled back.

"The windows." Anyone beyond the office could see them.

Aizen smirked. "Fine, upstairs then."

He gripped Grimmjow's wrist and tugged him from the room. He could barely wait for the elevator doors to shut again before yanking up Grimmjow's cotton tee. He spun Grimmjow face first into the mirrored wall. He knew to grip the rail there and gasped as his pants were practically torn off of him.

"Aizen." The doors had opened on the top floor but Aizen wasn't stopping. In the mirror Grimmjow watched him push a button and the door closed again. They were going to do this here and now.

"Mmmm." Grimmjow's head bent forward when teeth sank into his shoulder. The pain shot through him in a way that made his body tremble with desire. He bit his lip, fingers tightening over the rail.

Hands worked down his torso, grabbing, touching, fast and needy. His knees were pulled apart. Aizen stuck a finger in him without lube. He wasted no time before getting the next one in. Grimmjow grunted at the friction but withstood. His own need was surprisingly desperate. Sweat beaded down his face and when he felt Aizen straighten behind him and he prepared himself.

He knocked his head against the mirror at the first thrust. Aizen stopped, steadying him. Grimmjow readjusted his grip on the bar and Aizen leaned over him, planting a hand against the mirror and holding one hip with the other.

"You good?" His breath was husky.

"Yeah."

Aizen moved. It was fast and hard, and painful and satisfying. Aizen panted over his shoulder. There was something exhilarating about that noise—about the fact that he was the only one who could reduce Aizen to this: his most base desire.

Hands clenched over his hips. Grimmjow had to put a hand up against the mirror now as Aizen focussed on getting deeper, harder. For a second he looked up and stared back at himself. He saw his bangs drenched with sweat, his blue hair wild. He saw the spots of blood on the top of his shoulder where he'd been bitten. He saw the flush in his cheeks, the desire in his own eyes.

"That's right." Aizen had leaned back in over his shoulder. "You are the most beautiful creature in the world."

Grimmjow met his eyes. Did he mean that? Or was that what he whispered in everyone's ear when he fucked them?

It didn't matter in a second, because his eyes squeezed shut and threw his head back against Aizen and screamed.

He came so hard his knees gave. Between the wall and Aizen he couldn't fall but he was spent and Aizen slipped his arms around him, holding him tight. He had cum too but he was steady as he lowered Grimmjow to the floor. He leaned back against the wall, fluid seeping from him. He breathed hard while Aizen did up his pants again. Grimmjow reached painfully for his own clothes. He might not be able to walk right away. He dragged on his boxers as Aizen pushed a button on the elevator.

Nothing happened.

Grimmjow watched him frown and push the button again. His heart beat quickened. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Aizen tried the button again.

"Then open the doors."

"Just a moment."

Grimmjow struggled up to his feet. He watched Aizen press in on the button again.

"Are we stuck?"

"I hit the emergency stop."

"Youwhat?"

"It should still work though."

"WHAT?" He staggered over to Aizen and the panel. He stabbed the "open door" button with one finger. The light didn't even come on. "What did you do?"

"Grimmjow, calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? Get the fucking door open now!"

Calm hands came up to grip his shoulders. He gripped right back to Aizen's suit front.

"It has to open," he wheezed out, breath short.

"Grimmjow calm yourself."

"I can't. I need out. Get me out of here."

"Grimm—"

"GET ME OUT!"

"GRIMMJOW!" He stopped at the scream. But his chest hurt so bad it felt like a ton of bricks had been set on it. The air in the elevator suddenly felt thin and dry. Aizen watched his descent into panic and drew him against his chest.

"Just hold on."

He used the elevator phone while still holding him. He got through in seconds. When he hung up he bent his head into Grimmjow's.

"I can't breathe."

"Shh.."

"I can't…please…let me out."

The words were not for the present. The words were not for Aizen. They were for another man, uttered by a child in another time and another place.

Grimmjow sank to the floor. By the time the elevator chimed and the door opened, he was inconsolable. Nothing Aizen had tried to say to him worked. Not until the doors opened and he bolted from the elevator. He collapsed to all fours in the hallway. His head sank into his arms. Aizen came out behind him, his clothes in his arms. Grimmjow looked back at him for just a moment before he collapsed in on himself and gave into panicked tears.

Cool air drifted into the penthouse. It floated past the nightstand and over the pale form who sat on the edge of the bed, clothes still in a bundle in his hands, only covered by his boxers. Tears dried on his face. His hands trembled in his lap.

"Here." Aizen sat next to him and passed him a drink.

Grimmjow accepted it, but bowed his head, away from the other. A hand came to rest on his knee.

"It's okay."

"It's not okay. It's fuckin' humiliating." Even now his voice trembled. He threw the drink back.

Aizen swapped it out for his own glass. Grimmjow sipped this one.

"So you are afraid of small spaces?"

Grimmjow nodded. "I mean, I don't like elevators but I can do them…but something like that…"

"Of course. Or perhaps its confinement you really fear."

Grimmjow raised his eyes. He remembered his reflection. He couldn't image what he looked like now. He must be a mess.

Aizen brought a hand up and gently stroked the side of his face. "Will you tell me?"

Grimmjow shook his head and turned away. Aizen waited patiently. After a long while, Grimmjow whispered out an answer, "My father."

It was all he could say to explain himself. He shut his eyes, feeling coats around him, feeling the wood beneath his nails where he'd scratched the door. Feeling the blood on his knuckles where he'd punched the wall.

Warm arms were around him. He breathed in Aizen's scent.

"Did he do anything else?"

Grimmjow stiffened. He pulled back at once.

"Did he?"

"Not what you're thinking." Grimmjow closed his arms over his stomach. He suddenly felt the chill of the outdoor air. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

A hand ghosted over his skin, then settled on his shoulder. Aizen pushed him back and leaned in over top of him.

"Aizen…"

"I want to know."

"It's none of your business."

"Tell me."

"WHY?!"

"So I don't hurt you again."

Grimmjow stilled completely. He stared up at the man on top of him.

"W-what?"

"If I had known, I never would have stopped the elevator. I wouldn't have risked it."

Grimmjow turned his face away. Aizen sighed and rolled to the side but pulled Grimmjow against him. They lay on the bed, above the sheets and in silence for a long time.

"When he was drunk, or angry…" Grimmjow began. "He did shit like that. The closet upstairs was packed with old boxes of shoes, and winter coats hung in there. There was no room to breathe. I can smell it, feel it, see it, like it was here now. I spent hours at a time in there—once or twice it was more than a day. It was just a fuckin closet but I couldn't break the door, the lock. I couldn't get out. I never got out until he let me…or she did."

He swallowed. He breathed. He focussed on the strong hands around him.

"And if she did, if she saved me, then he would put her in there. And I couldn't save her either. And I would stare from the other side. I would hear her scream, because she feared it worse than even me."

He pressed his forehead tighter to Aizen's chest. "It was one thing for him to hit me…I could handle that. But not that dark, close space. Not her screams. Not him hitting her. Or taking her when she begged him to stop."

That was it. His voice broke. He had to stop. Aizen bent his head against his. He felt lips against his forehead.

"Thank you for telling me."

Grimmjow couldn't speak. He nodded. But he drew back when he regained his breath.

"Did Stark tell you why I need a new identity?"

"No."

"But do you know now, right?"

Aizen nodded. "I know you were a child and you couldn't stop it. But I know the man you are now. I know you wouldn't be here if it was still going on. So either she's dead, or he is."

"He is."

"You don't have to tell me."

"I stabbed him in the heart." He said it out loud, for the first time in his entire life. "With a steak knife, after dinner. He fell against the sink, all the blood went down the drain, like God actually knew I was doing the right thing, like he was helping me clean up. But he wasn't dead yet, so took the pot off the stove and I hit him the head. There were peas stuck in the bottom. They went everywhere, but he stopped moving. And she screamed and fainted. And I knew I should be scared but I wasn't. And I knew what I had to do. I got a shovel. I used the tablecloth to wrap him up so no blood got on the floor. I buried him in my mother's rose garden so no one would suspect a fresh hole in the yard. I filled the sink with bleach. Then I washed the dishes and put them away. And I never told a soul, and neither did she, but she couldn't look at me, she was terrified of me, so I left."

He finished. He was calm. He stared straight back at Aizen.

"Good for you." He said evenly, no sympathy or pity in his eyes. But he did move in and plant a kiss on Grimmjow's lips. "You made a decision then. It was the right one. You should trust your instincts more."

"I should? What if those instincts told me to run away from you?"

A hand slipped behind his head and gripped him tight.

"Are they?"

Grimmjow leaned in, his breath in Aizen's ear. "If they were, I would never have come here."

He felt a smile. Then there was heat and pleasure and pain.

Thanks for the positive comments!

Next time: Grimmjow sees a different side of Aizen...

~ZQ