Author's Note:

My apologies if the beginning of this chapter is slightly disjointed and not up to my usual quality, and if it is overall quite short; I wrote it just after the new Zelda game was announced and my attentions were (understandably) elsewhere.

Additional note: in order to comply with the new series title of this fic (as this will likely be a 2-in-1 deal as a result of ffn's format) the fic's title has been changed to 'The Ability To Combine.'

Uryū Ishida had never run faster in his life.

He'd left Rukia and Chad in the dust behind him, each foot soaring in front of the other in a sense of the highest urgency.

Ichigo's life was on the line. The words thundered through his head with every footfall, a mantra beating through his head.

Chapter Three

𝄪Quincy Archer Loves You𝄪

He knew the way to Urahara Shōten, tracing the path instinctually with a fevered speed that he hadn't known he was capable of. Before he knew it, he'd already barged in the front door, ran over Ururu and Jinta, and only just managed to pull himself short before he could fall over and crush Kisuke and Orihime, who were kneeling on either side of the futon where Ichigo had been placed.

Once his run was done, Uryū needed a minute to catch his breath and slow the pounding of his heart, doubled over and wheezing.

When he rose again, he was able to take more thorough stock of the room. Kisuke and Orihime were both clustered close around a shimmering golden shield that just managed to hide Ichigo from view, the others all lined up along the back wall with concerned looks on their faces.

"Take care to not run over the patient, Ishida," Kisuke absentmindedly commented, shoving a fistful of dried crabs in his face as he examined the damage, both the scratches sealing up from Orihime's shield and the less visible issues that would take far more to heal.

Having reined himself in sufficiently, Uryū was now able to assess the situation at hand and found it as dire as Rukia had said it was.

The golden glow of the shield did little to hide the latticework of bruises and thick layers of bloodstains that covered his body. The ten gouging clawmarks responsible for most of the blood loss were sealing up crisply, but the worst of the damage had already been done. His chest was only just rising and falling, and the utterly vacant look on his face made Uryū's blood run cold.

Uryū simply stood by for the next few hours, a spectator as the two made sure he was secure and not in any severe danger. He was frustrated that he was unable to help, shifting his weight between his feet to make sure his legs didn't fall asleep under him and make him lose his balance, lest he fall on top of Ichigo.

Eventually, though, Tessai had strong-armed Kisuke to bed after the bulk of the healing had been completed, and even Orihime had finally dried her tears and shuffled to the adjacent room to catch some sleep. Time was running into the early hours of morning, now, even if the sun was still firmly below the horizon; the room was silent except for the raspy sound of Ichigo's breathing and the quiet sputtering of candles.

Since they were finally alone, Uryū took a seat next to where he was laying, watching as his chest rose and fell, kept in line only by the brace strapped firmly to the side.

The lights had been turned off, the remaining flickering candles providing a barely passing weak illumination that Uryū knew was hiding the worst of the damage. Daylight would show the situation for how gruesome it really was, but for now it was just the two of them in candlelight.

A single tear rolled down Uryū's cheek, finally taking advantage of no one else being in the room and making its escape. He didn't even notice it, so preoccupied with listening to the quiet breathing and telling himself Ichigo was just sleeping soundly.

Now that he was getting a closer look, though, he was able to discern one key fact. His spirit was not in his body. That much was clear to Uryū, having spent enough time with him to know the difference. Yoruichi had spent the night combing Karakura for any sign of his spiritual pressure and come up empty, meaning that most likely the Arrancars had moved in, somehow managed to capture Ichigo and moved out before anyone caught them. On that same awful line of reasoning, in all likelihood Ichigo was probably being held hostage by a horde of angry Hollows, unable to escape or even cry for help.

After everything he'd been through, Uryū shouldn't have been so surprised by how easy it was for life to change in the span of an hour or two, but here he was: once again, someone he cared about deeply had been snatched from his hands, and he was absolutely helpless to stop it.

The situation brought him a keener understanding why Ichigo wanted so desperately to protect his loved ones.

If only I'd been there to do the same for him.

Guilt settled deep in his stomach as he left the room to get some sleep, closing the door quietly behind him as if a loud noise would somehow wake Ichigo from his dreamless slumber.

Before

Ichigo was sitting on his bed cross-legged, his right arm stiff from holding the phone up to his ear. In the grand scheme of things that didn't particularly matter to him, though; a massive grin that seemed rather out of character was plastered across his face.

The sound of his door opening split the happy mood, however, squeaking open and cutting the conversation off, as well as his beaming smile.

"Ichigo!"

Karin popped her head into his bedroom, looking and sounding markedly annoyed.

"Just a minute." He quickly covered the phone receiver and turned to his sister. "What is it?"

She simply rolled her eyes. "I was just wondering if you were going to be done on the phone soon. I wanted to call one of my friends about hanging out tonight, but someone has been using it for the last hour and a half giggling with his girlfriend."

Had it really been an hour and a half? No wonder his legs were so stiff.

Ichigo let his face fall into a scowl. "I don't giggle, Karin. And yeah, maybe I'll be done soon. You don't have to be so passive aggressive about it."

"Get your ass off the phone in the next five minutes and I'll go easy on you. And yes, you were giggling."

Without any further comment, Karin turned on her heel and stormed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind her and rattling the little plaque that adorned the front on its dowel.

"Sorry about that. My sisters are nagging me for the phone again."

Uryū chuckled over the phone. "If you want to keep talking unbothered, you can always come over."

"What about your dad?"

"No need to worry about Ryūken."

"Back up on his Dad of the Year behaviour, then?"

"As always. Anyway, he's working late at the hospital tonight, so you can come. I'll just have to make sure you wash up before you sit on the couch or anything otherwise he might catch the undesirable smell of a Soul Reaper in his house, and we can't have that."

Ichigo let out a snort intense enough he could feel his nostrils sting. "I smell fine, Uryū."

"You smell like hairspray."

"Wha—I do not!"

"Ichigo, I don't know how many cans you go through on a monthly basis, but I don't envy your father the bill. Ryūken, six times in the last month no less, has commented when he comes home that the couch smells like hairspray. If I don't do a deep clean of the upholstery after you're over, he gets suspicious."

"I thought he didn't pay attention to anything you did."

"He doesn't. He just really hates that the smell of your fruity hairspray is essentially baked into our couch cushions now. I tell you, he's three more visits away from tossing it out and buying a new one. I don't even know how you did it. It's leather."

"Well, let me head over so I can make it two more visits, okay?" Ichigo could feel the smile on his face. "And I'll make sure to put extra hairspray in for good measure."

"You wouldn't dare." Uryū couldn't sound less concerned.

"I absolutely will. See you soon."

The smile was still on Ichigo's face when he changed into a clean outfit. It was still there when he handed a grumpy Karin the phone, and even wider (if that was even possible) when he quickly ducked into the bathroom with a can of strawberry-scented hairspray in hand, teasing his hair out to make sure it stood on end like peaks of meringue.

The smile had not lessened when he was about to walk out the door, even when his father careened into his path and started bawling that his son was all grown up and in love.

"Cut it!"

"I can't believe you're dating a girl, I'm so proud of you, what would Masaki say—"

"I never said I was dating anyone." The thought of Ryūken Ishida throwing out his couch because of Ichigo's gratuitous use of hairspray did a great deal of heavy lifting to keep the smile on his face.

"Ahaha, you don't need to hide it from me. I know the signs. Slipping out four days a week? Talking on the phone every chance you get? Changing your clothes before you go out?"

"He is right about that one," Karin interjected as she walked by. "You never bother with clean clothes."

"Listen, so what if I like someone? It's no big deal." Ichigo just shrugged, anxious to get on his way.

"My baby boy is growing up!"

Ichigo just rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut behind him.

The walk to Uryū's place was practically rote now, each step burned into his mind by months of habit. He was there before he even knew it, knocking and bubbling with anticipation and happiness.

Uryū opened the door with a smug look on his face. "You never can stay away for long, can you Ichigo?"

"Shut up. You know you're the same way." It was playful banter, the sort that had started out barbed when they'd first met but evolved into something more amicable and from there an expression of affection.

"Come in, or I'll be cursing the stupid Soul Reaper that let all the bugs in when I'm trying to catch some sleep tonight."

Ichigo obliged, no sooner having crossed the threshold than pulling Uryū close into a large hug.

"Ichigo—you're squishing me—"

"Stop complaining. I know you like my hugs."

Ichigo did finally pull back, leaving an only mildly irate Uryū to straighten his glasses that had been knocked askew from the impact. There was something strange about Uryū's presence that made Ichigo open up from his usual, cracking the tough disinterested façade that everyone else saw.

As was his habit when they met up, Ichigo's gaze flickered up and down Uryū's body, making sure he was intact. At first all appeared to be well, but just before he finished he caught sight of a small flap of skin on one of his fingers, out of place and trimmed with dried blood.

"You cut yourself."

"It's nothing." Uryū was clearly trying to be annoyed by Ichigo's concern, but was failing.

He ran his finger over the ripped skin gently. "You need to be more careful with yourself."

"Says the one who routinely chases after anything and everything that could beat him to a pulp."

Ichigo scowled. "I do that to keep you safe."

"I can take care of myself."

"Can you, though?" It was just a small cut, but Ichigo couldn't help but feel his protector instincts kick in at the sight of it. He folded Uryū's fingers in and clasped his hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was warm and soft, the numerous callouses from his bow tucked on the inside and out of reach.

Uryū opened his mouth like he was going to come up with a retort, but closed it again at the contact.

"I just can't lose you, okay?" The words were genuine. He couldn't imagine losing anyone close to him, but the thought of losing Uryū…well, that was almost as painful as losing his sisters. If he lost Uryū, he'd summarily failed at everything. It was as simple as that.

"I know."

Ichigo let himself lean in, just slightly, and let their foreheads touch. Both were partially covered in hair, the stiff strands of his own rubbing between their skin, but the impact was still the same. He's here. It's okay. I'm not alone.

Maybe that was why the two of them connected so well, Ichigo reflected. They were two lonely and broken individuals with nowhere to turn for comfort but each other.

Uryū was his anchor, an assurance that no matter what happened, someone was always there to look out for him.

Ichigo could have stayed there for hours, just basking in the warmth of Uryu's spirit energy and the gentle ebb and flow of his heartbeat. When they pulled apart it was reluctant on both fronts, Ichigo slowly following Uryu in to the kitchen where he had prepared supper and despite himself, was mourning the loss of connection even though he knew the evening would be filled with such moments now that the two of them were together.

A part of him still held the warmth of that encounter, and every encounter before and would hold every one to come, close to his heart. They were lights, shining in darkness when Ichigo could count on no others to be lit.

Present Day

[Hueco Mundo]

The cold stone floor was sucking every last drop of life and hope out of Ichigo's bones, his bare skin making it all the easier for the leaching warmth to escape.

Reminiscing about his life in what was rapidly becoming the Before in his mind was doing a remarkably poor job at keeping the despair at bay.

"Uryū?" Ichigo called his name softly into the darkness to no response. He knew, of course, that there wouldn't be; but that didn't stop him from hoping that he would emerge from the shadows anyway with some snarky comment about how he'd fallen out of bed. But this wasn't Uryū's bedroom, and no comfort was to be found.

He would always seek refuge there whenever life was spitting in his face. There was something about Uryū's chiding remarks and cutting wit that always made him feel better, soften life's blows a bit.

But he was lying here, in the dark coldness, without his voice, without his warm hands full of life and humming Quincy spiritual pressure that would always hold his own just when neither of them thought the other was looking. The only touch he felt was the sekkiseki bracelet digging into his wrist and making the skin it touched chafe, and the collar that marked him as Aizen's plaything, no longer his own individual with the ability to decide his fate.

Knowing it was futile, Ichigo reached up, trying to claw the collar off his neck, finding the seam where metal met skin with searching fingers and trying desperately to pry the two apart. The hard edge met the soft undersides of his fingers, stalwart and refusing to budge.

Ichigo must have been at this useless effort for a good twenty minutes, heart catching every time he felt the collar shift the tiniest bit only to sink back down when it settled into its original place, cutting into his flesh even more.

Eventually, even Ichigo had to admit it was hopeless; his spiritual pressure was locked away and unable to crack whatever sort of seal Aizen had placed on it. He'd known it from the start, really, but denial had finally been extinguished.

"Uryū?" Ichigo called out again, louder this time, voice trembling with unshed emotion, knowing he wouldn't get an answer but still hoping despite himself desperately that he would, his plea for help echoing off the walls and bringing nothing in response but his own despair.

It was the breaking point. Tears started spilling down his cheeks, trickling down his chin like raindrops. Unlike usual, when he managed to hold his tears in until he and Uryū were alone, there was no gentle hand to brush them away, no soft whispers assuring him that it would be alright, that he wasn't alone, that Uryū was there as a shoulder to cry on.

Ichigo's chest heaved in a sob, letting the tears spill off his cheeks and hit the stone floor unceremoniously. They kept coming, faster and accompanied by a soft wail that he couldn't stop even if he wanted to escaping from his chest. He fell to his knees, burying his head deep into his hands to muffle the wailing that refused to let up.

Ichigo wasn't sure how long he was like this, only that his head was pounding and his eyes felt like they'd been sandblasted. He'd fallen sideways at some point in his sadness, now curled in on himself like a scared wild animal hoping to avoid being caught and eaten by predators much larger and stronger than it. His hair was stuck to his face, wet with tears; but he had run out of those some time ago, his chest simply going through the motions of heaving without anything to accompany it. Each time brought with it a stab of pain through his skull.

Had he been in the world of the living, he would be lying on Uryū's couch after finishing crying into his arms. A cup of hot tea would be pressed into his hand, warming him from the contact and the liquid soothing his headache. Maybe Uryū would put a show on, or maybe they'd just sit and talk for a while, the comfort of each other's presence parting Ichigo's sadness like clouds after a rainstorm. It never failed to work.

Except now, when he was locked in the world of hollows without a kind touch and a soft smile to pull him back from the brink of despair. Zangetsu was broken, his powers had been shattered and locked away, he was far from home and everyone he loved, and was firmly in the grasp of the most sadistic man he had ever met.

Ichigo stood on the brink of despair, and fell off the edge as he cried himself to sleep.

Author's Note: thank you for reading! As before, I know this chapter is a little on the short side (it's the shortest in the fic as of now), but I promise the next one will be longer! A sneak preview: the next chapter title will be 'Serenity Never.'