"You held up your end of the bargain."

White hot lights, white hot pain. Grimmjow's body shuddered when he was shoved before the cameras. The moment he was let, go he fell. His chained hands hit the ground. His knees trembled. He sank lower, not facing the camera.

"And I held up mine."

The man reading Katagiri's words continued. Grimmjow lay at their mercy. For twenty-four hours he'd been Katagiri's play thing. For twenty-four hours, he'd been unmade. He couldn't fight the men in ski masks who grabbed his ankles and forced him around the other way, so the camera had a clear sight of his worst wounds. He heard those laughs again. Were they really laughing, or was it in the script? Was it even humanly possible to find what had been done to him worth laughing about?

Yes it was, because humanity was shit.

"Next up is my property on the harbour—" Grimmjow tuned out of the new demands. He was still focussing on the fact Aizen had complied to the first. He'd given up territory to save his life. But that was before—before he'd been tainted by another man. What would Aizen do this time? Even if he complied again, how much longer could this go on? Eventually Katagiri would ask for something Aizen could not give up.

And in the meantime, what more would he have to endure?

He was in nearly in tears again when they hauled him back to the room. They left him alone, hands chained above his head to the bed. He curled in on himself and gave in. What difference did it make if he cried now? It wasn't like it could be anymore humiliating than the things that had been done to him already.

"Only a few hours ago you said I couldn't break you."

He hadn't even heard Katagiri come in. The man bent over him from the side of the bed. "If it makes you feel better, I'm too busy to play with you today." He reached behind Grimmjow and knotted his fingers in his hair, pulling him into a sitting position. Then plastic touched his lips and water splashed into his mouth.

Grimmjow gulped it back. Katagiri held his head and tilted the water back slowly enough it didn't choke him.

"Good boy. Now don't fight the men when they come in. They're gonna wash you up."

Katagiri threw out the bottle and left. Grimmjow sat where he was, waiting for the others to come. He felt numb. He looked down his body and saw how still he'd gone. He was in shock, he must be. Maybe it would kill him. Maybe he'd die before Katagiri came back for more.

But they doused him in hot water and his body came back to life—too much life. His flayed back screamed. They submerged him despite his calls of pain. Water filled his nose, his mouth. They pulled him back up and began to wash him down. He tried to kick. They caught his leg and held him still while they cleansed the worst of the wounds.

Grimmjow was dumped back on the bed afterward. They cuffed his hands above his head then his ankles to one another. He lay where he'd been left, until he could no longer keep his eyes open and he gave into merciful sleep.

Grimmjow hurt like he'd never hurt before.

His mind was slush after so many strikes to the head. The men had gone at him hard before the cameras, beating him into a bloody mess while Aizen watched somewhere, watching his punishment for being too slow to deliver whatever new demand Katagiri had made. It had been days, but Grimmjow didn't know how many. He'd never been tortured, but this must fit the bill: the beatings, the sleep deprivation, and worst of all, what happened at night.

The hot lights were still on him. Someone was on a cell, pacing as he spoke to Aizen. Grimmjow panted against the dirty floor. He was sweating and shivering all at once. He watched his hand tremble where it was stretched before him. He drew it back against his body and swallowed copper flavoured saliva.

The pacing stopped. Hands were on him again, hauling him up. Someone hooked their elbow under his neck and squeezed tight.

Panic gripped him. He struggled on his knees, unable to breathe, his heartbeat suddenly pounding in his temples, behind his eyes.

This was it. They'd pushed Aizen too far, he wouldn't agree to their terms—Grimmjow was about to die.

"Fine." Came the voice. The hands around him were suddenly gone. He fell to all fours, gasping, eyes running, spitting blood and saliva.

"He will continue to suffer, for you hesitancy." The man on the phone said. "Yes, yes, I know. You have two minutes."

The phone clattered over the floor, stopping just before Grimmjow. He stared at it.

"Hurry up!" Someone kicked his hip and sent him on his side. The phone was now right next to his head.

"Grimmjow." His name came out from the phone. He blinked up to the camera. Aizen could still see him. "Pick up the phone." The small voice instructed.

He did. His hands were shaking worse now, he had trouble closing his fingers around the cheap burner cell, but he grasped it and pressed it to his ear.

"Good. That's good, Grimmjow. Now listen to me. This will all be over soon. You have to stay strong."

"Aizen…" he forgot about the room, about the other people listening. He heard only that unsteady breathing on the other end. "You know what he's done to me…"

"And he'll burn for it, Grimmjow, I promise."

"But you can't keep this up—giving him what he wants."

"Let me worry about that."

"But you'll have to say no eventually. He's gonna kill me."

"He won't Grimmjow. I will sort this all out. You just have to hang on."

Grimmjow didn't answer. He saw the boots of the man waiting to take the phone back. He saw the other profiles, waiting to drag him back to that room. And somewhere among them, face hidden safely behind the camera, was the one who'd reduced him to this.

"Grimmjow!" The harsh call made him jolt. "Say it. Tell me you're strong enough to hold out. Tell me you will survive."

"Aizen—"

"Say it! Say that you will live. You will wait for me until I get to you."

"I…I will, Aizen."

"Good."

"Time." Someone called. The phone was snatched away. Grimmjow lifted his eyes to the camera that was still blinking, where Aizen still watched. Then it shut off and hands were around him.

He couldn't walk when they got him up. He'd been hit too many times, his vision went black the moment they were vertical and he could only see again when he was horizontal on the bathroom tile.

"He looks disgusting," he heard Katagiri complain. The sink ran. Hands were under his arms again. Someone began to sponge the blood from his face. His back molar fell out when they made him rinse his mouth.

"Fuck. Just leave him in here."

When the rough wash job was complete they dropped him back to the floor. His hands remained cuffed before him, his ankle was secured to the radiator on the wall. They left him alone. He lay on his back on the tile floor, face cut and swollen, head pounding, but relief consuming him, because Katagiri was not going to touch him tonight.

They drowned him.

Over and over.

Maybe Aizen had done something to piss them off, or maybe Katagiri just wanted to torture them both some more, but Grimmjow was sure he was going to die as his head was held under the ice water in the bucket before the rolling camera. Each time seemed longer. The last time they didn't pull him up fast enough. Convulsively, he tried to inhale even though he knew there was only water. Someone punched him in the gut to get it out of his lungs and he ended up vomiting repeatedly over the already filthy floor.

He must have fainted because his next memory was agony in the bed, his screams of rage at Katagiri, and a solid blow to the side of the head after one particular insult. He woke next in the bathroom, which had become the favoured place to keep him since he could get his own water and use the toilet and no one had to unchain him. There was blood on the floor from his nose. He took a long time to stand and get to the sink where he washed off what had dried around his mouth.

His left eye had been swollen shut for three days but was finally deflating. The rest of his face was a yellowing bruise. He sank again, sick and sore from the night. He tried counting the days since he'd been here. A week and a half, maybe? He wasn't sure. It was beginning to blur.

He stood up again to bend over the sink and drink something. Everything tasted of blood. the door opened and he straightened but it was a subordinate.

"Sit down," he ordered. It was for his safety—Grimmjow had attacked a number of guards, with very harsh consequences each time. He sat now, too exhausted to try taking this man on who had a clear size advantage. The man leaned over the tub and ran hot water. Grimmjow's stomach clenched, because that meant Katagiri planned to have him in bed again tonight.

The guard waited for the tub to fill. He kept glancing at the door, his finger tapping against his crossed arm. He looked nervous, which made Grimmjow nervous.

Finally the tub was filled. The man turned off the tap and shut the door. Then he picked a clean washcloth from the shelf.

"Shit." Grimmjow tried to stand when he realized the man's intentions, but he came down on him hard, striking him across the face and then getting a fist in his hair. He shoved the cloth in his mouth, stopping him from screaming. His head slammed down against the moist tile and the man settled enough weight there to pin him. Then he pulled Grimmjow's boxers down.

Grimmjow fought. He kicked with his free ankle and tried to twist out from under the hold. But the man was getting ready, undoing his own belt. Surely this wasn't Katagiri's orders. No one ever touched him except Katagiri.

The door opened again. The man froze where he was, his own lower half now bared. He hastily pulled his pants up and turned.

Katagiri always looked pissed off, so instead of his face creasing into an angry frown, he simply looked calm—which was all the more terrifying.

He shut the bathroom door behind him.

He hit the man before he could ever rise properly. He caught his hair in one fist and brought his knee into his sternum. The man gagged. Katagiri maintained his grip on the back of his head and shoved him face first into the toilet.

Grimmjow scrambled away as best he could. His ankle was secured to the radiator behind him so the most he could do was get his back pressed against the tub. He watched Katagiri pull the man in and out of the toilet, as he sputtered desperately for air just as Grimmjow had done the day before. Then he pulled him out and dropped him on the floor just next to Grimmjow. The man lay face down, gasping.

Katagiri stepped over him and raised up one foot.

Grimmjow screamed when Katagiri's heel came down on the back of the man's skull, not enough to kill, but enough to break all his teeth against tile. It was a horrible sight and sound. It was too much for his frayed nerves to endure, even if he had done equally violent things to the men he'd killed.

He watched Katagiri kill him slowly, never losing his calm, a dead, terrible look in his eyes that set him apart from the rest of humanity.

And Grimmjow was terrified: because someday soon Katagiri would kill him too, in as cold, brutal and agonizing a way as this.

The man kept screaming the whole time. Grimmjow couldn't stop watching even though he wanted to. Teeth and blood and other things littered the floor in the aftermath. Katagiri rose and washed his hands.

Then he turned to Grimmjow.

"Don't!" He could hardly breathe. He couldn't even keep his eyes open. He was a scared child hiding behind his eyelids like it would make the boogey monster go away.

Katagiri's hand wrapped around his bicep. His eyes wouldn't open. His every muscle clenched up in anticipation of pain. But he was pulled to his feet. The chain on his ankle disappeared. Katiagiri pulled him from the bathroom and out into the bedroom.

"It's about maintaining order." Katagiri let go and Grimmjow fell to his hands and knees next to the bed. His breath was so short he was gasping. "The men must know they cannot touch what is mine."

He called through the door. It opened at once—the others must have heard the subordinate's desperate screams. The cleanup was silent—the body hauled away and the bathroom scrubbed down in mere minutes, while Grimmjow remained stuck where he was, immobilized by terror.

"After everything we've done to you, you only just fear me now?" Katagiri asked when the door was shut and they were alone again. "You're a killer too, remember."

Katagiri paced about the room. He was energized, as if killing had caused him some sort of arousal, like a shark smelling blood. Grimmjow sat back on his heels, watching him, looking to the door, assessing his options.

"Tell me, Grimmjow, what did you feel that night, when you killed my men and burned their corpses?"

He came to a stop. Grimmjow stared him down from across the room.

"Speak."

He didn't. He couldn't. Maybe that's why Katagiri stopped just before striking him—he could see that instead of defiance, it was sheer terror keeping him silent.

He smiled and took a seat on the side of the bed, holding Grimmjow's face with one hand.

"You're a child. You thought you were so tough but after something like that you're petrified." His thumb traced over Grimmjow's lips and then pressed into his mouth, sliding over his bottom teeth. "It really disturbed you huh? Seeing me break his jaw like that. Well, I could do it to you too, right now, or on camera for Aizen to see. What do you say?"

Grimmjow yanked away at once, but his hair was caught and he couldn't pull away anymore.

"No? Okay then, we'll find another use for that mouth of yours. If you use any teeth, you'll lose them, and you know now that I'm not bluffing."

He choked and gagged, but he suffered through because all he could see where the man's teeth shattering in his mouth and that horrible scream that came from his broken jaw. He was still panting for breath when Katagiri got him from his knees onto the bed.

He sat where he was left and watched Katagiri pull a bottle of brown liquor from the dresser drawer.

"Which do you fear more: The day I kill you, or the days in between?"

Grimmjow looked to the bathroom. Is that how it would be done? Would Katagiri kill him with raw force, or would it be something else, something slower?

Which would be more agonizing in the end, his death, or this existence?

"Boy."

A hand was in his hair again but this time it was a bottle that pressed between his lips. He choked on the liquor that was suddenly pouring down his throat. He swallowed just so he wouldn't drown but Katagiri didn't let up until he'd taken in far too much for his starved and injured body. The room was already blurring when the bottle was finally withdrawn.

"Did you feel exhilarated, when you killed my men? Did you feel powerful?" Katagiri drank deep, finishing the liquor. Then he began undress.

"No." Grimmjow finally answered.

"Then what?"

"I was like you," his voice was slurring, his thoughts blurring, but he knew the truth Katagiri was getting at. He knew exactly why what he'd seen terrified him so much: because he must have looked the same all those times, when he'd killed his father, killed those dirty cops, and killed Katagiri's men. "I felt cold. I felt nothing."

"And you think that's what I'll feel when I kill you?"

Katagiri moved in, but Grimmjow reacted, bolting to his feet. It was useless. He was drunk and encumbered by handcuffs. Katagiri caught him from behind, leaned over his shoulder with a grin.

"You're wrong, Grimmjow, I don't feel nothing when I kill."

Grimmjow was suddenly horizontal, wrists trapped against the headboard, hand around his jaw, lips against his.

"How does it feel, knowing these hands will be the ones to end you?"

They slid down his body. He shut his eyes and tried to escape but Katagiri didn't let him, touching low.

"They won't be," he hissed as his body tensed up. The drunkenness wasn't helping. His face burned and he didn't want this man to be able to give him any sort of pleasure. But he was. The friction of Katagiri's hand was quickly making Grimmjow hard.

"I won't let you kill me," he grunted out, trying to keep his breathing steady.

"You think Aizen will save you? You think that bastard will kill me?"

"No. I won't let him kill you, not anyone else. It will be me. I will kill you myself."

Katagiri smiled wide, that gold tooth gleaming in his mouth. "You are endlessly entertaining, boy." He stopped touching him, leaving Grimmjow panting and unsatisfied. He positioned himself and bent in to whisper in Grimmjow's ear.

"Let me wipe away some of that arrogance." He wrapped his hands around Grimmjow's back and held him close. It was different. It was intimate and wrong. And he forced him over the edge, laughing at him, mocking him, because he couldn't control even that. He was powerless, in this bed, in this world, and Katagiri spent the whole night making sure he knew that.

eventually there will be h/c yes, just got to bear through the rough stuff first...

~ZQ