Crux

by chiapetirl

Summary:

Death Dealer Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is on a mission to eliminate a group of Lycans who have mysteriously come out of hiding. His world turns upside down when he ends up protecting the human they’re chasing after. [An Underworld AU]

Notes:

This AU is part of the Original Grimmichi Discord’s hardcover anthology project ‘Fifteen Lives’.
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The air smelled of iron, of rot and of human filth.

It took Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez every level of constraint to keep from scrunching up his face in disgust, staring down at the rain-soaked urban landscape. Blue eyes searched through the sea of faces, all of which were partially huddled under hoods and umbrellas, desperate to get indoors.

They’re here somewhere, dammit.

A lycan’s scent was far more potent than that of the average human’s, something a Death Dealer knew well. But even in the rain, it was difficult to separate the stench of a lycan from that of a wet human. Grimmjow’s fingers tapped incessantly on the concrete, his impatience rising. The two pistols on his hips pressed into him, as if burning to be unholstered. The black leather of his body suit made it difficult for the rain to soak into him, trailing off and disappearing into the gray surface below.

They should’ve been here by now, he thought, his lips forming a slight grimace. If that fucker Gilga gave me bad info again, I’ll snap his thin neck!

Among the grays and browns, a figure began to descend the stairs, heading for the subway. He smelled like the average human; unwashed, exhausted, running on caffeine and very little food, frantic to get somewhere. Orange hair peeked out from under a gray hoodie, rain trailing down a leather jacket. He shouldn’t have caught the Death Dealer’s eye, but something…

Something was wrong .

Not far behind, a string of fast moving, unwavering individuals trailed behind him, as if locked on to an invisible target. One sniff and Grimmjow’s lips formed a lip-splitting grin. Bingo! Without hesitation, he dove into the shadows, scaling the stairs and winding down the stairs towards the brightly lit subway terminal. 

“Got ya now, ya bastards!” His stifled laughter trailed after him as he bolted down the halls.

--xx—xx--

Fluorescent lights were one of the many abysmal creations humans had made, a harsh brightness seeping into the crowd of them waiting for the train to arrive. It was cold this far below, puddles of water pooling on the dingy tiles that lined the floors. Condensation dripped down the walls, tinging the papers and advertisement boards with a film of water and mildew. All around, it was a depressing scene that Grimmjow was more than ready to leave behind.

“I can smell your bloodlust from a mile away.” The smooth, even tone that filled his ears gave Grimmjow pause, followed by disgust. Keeping pace, a man of shorter stature followed alongside, longish black hair swaying slightly as he moved. Even though he had addressed Grimmjow directly, his sharp green eyes stared straight ahead. “Contain your excitement for once, if you please.”

“Don’t go lecturin’ me while we’re on assignment, Ulquiorra,” Grimmjow hissed in reply. “Keep yer eyes on target.”

Ulquiorra’s face remained stoic, his darker upper lip stiff and heavy eyebrows weighing down against his eyes. “I am not the one acting erratic on assignment. Even after six centuries, you still retain your title as the most reckless of the Death Dealers.” Their paths diverted, but he managed to land one last dig in Grimmjow’s direction. “It would be a shame if word got back to Lord Tosen about your behavior.”

Bastard…! Gritting his teeth, Grimmjow forced himself to keep moving forward. When we get back, I’ll make sure to smash yer smug face into the floor.

They were close, bringing him back to the present. The train had begun to pull into the station, a stale breeze washing over Grimmjow, blowing against his trench coat. 

“Come on out,” he muttered, leaning against a tile-covered column. “Yer close, ain’t ya?”

Six centuries was long enough for any vampire to meet a variety of memorable people. And, of course, Grimmjow could name a few on one hand that had left quite an impression on him. But he couldn’t quite explain the phenomenon that occurred when his eyes turned, meeting that pair of light brown eyes across the way.

It was the human he’d spotted from before, orange hair protruding wildly out from under his hoodie. Despite the brightness in those eyes, they were framed by deep, dark circles beneath, his skin pale and slightly gaunt. There was a listlessness that persisted, as if this human was merely riding along the river of life that Grimmjow barely remembered after all these years. A dark green lanyard hung from his neck, swaying with the weight of an ID card latched onto the end. A university student, most likely a med student by the lack of sleep and the unmistakable antiseptic smell of hospital wings. Nothing special compared to most creatures that crawled along the mud-soaked surface of this miserable rock.

Yet, in that stare, Grimmjow felt something in him shift. As if an unused part of him had reared its sleepy head after all this time. If his heart had been working, it would probably be beating faster than usual. The human’s lips parted, his steady pace pausing as if he wanted to stop and speak to the Death Dealer. As if they knew each other.

Breaking through the moment, the squeal of the train’s brakes began to grind, bringing the Death Dealer back to his senses. The fuck am I doin’?! Lowering his gaze, Grimmjow wrenched his head away, pulling back behind the pillar. His head rested against the concrete, running his fingers through the mess of blue hair. 

Pull yerself together , he thought. I ain’t here for some human runt. Gotta find those lycans. His head buzzed, his vision narrowing slightly. A part of him wondered if that human was still looking in his direction, watching him. Turning his head slightly, Grimmjow caught the back of the human’s shoes as he disappeared. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed.

In a matter of seconds, the first of the lycans appeared.

As it was, vampires were not the best in terms of dressing to blend in with humans. Perhaps it was a matter of pride, but vampires had a type of flair that they couldn’t really shake when they dressed. If one looked hard enough, it was easy to spot a vampire by the design of their clothes alone, which were either a century behind or a tad too nice for the environment they were entering. Lycans, however, were a whole other level of sore thumb.

Their clothes were worn, threadbare, covered in dirt and grime that the average human did well to stave off. Earthy browns and rough grays, they were rougher around the edges when it came to outward appearances. Many times, their smell was enough to elicit a mild reaction from the humans around them. With their dwindling numbers, it was enough to assume that resources were scarce, food in short supply, and money to acquire human attire was nonexistent.

A tattered jacket covered the first lycan, his body mountainous beside the humans that milled past him. Jet-black hair greased back, a dark gray eye patch covering his right eye and a long, thin scar covering the left, his presence alone was fearsome. Head tilted forward, the lycan watched the student’s movements closely, almost taking great care to match his stride and footfalls. His attention was so focused that he barely noticed Grimmjow watching from behind the pillar, arms swaying as he tried to catch up. Two other lycans flanked behind, one a bald man with bright red markings by the eyes and the other thinner, with dark hair cut in a neat bob and yellow and orange markings along his face. They looked rather sophisticated for lycans, but that was none of Grimmjow’s business.

They’re followin’ that kid, he realized, blue eyes narrowing. What’s their business with a scrawny human like him?  

Slowly, Grimmjow shifted from one side of the pillar to the other, watching as the student stood in front of one of the train cars near the end, waiting for the doors to open. He felt the sudden urge to reach out, snatch the kid and face the trio, but he knew how well that’d go. Not only would he jeopardize the mission, but it would give Ulquiorra plenty of ammunition, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Hey, man, what’s your problem?!”

Muffled human voices could be heard, disgruntled as the larger lycan pushed through the crowd, determined to reach the student before he boarded the train.

“Watch it!”

“Ow, hey!”

They were closing in, Grimmjow could feel it. The student’s back was still turned, oblivious. Shit. Shit ! Taking a deep breath, Grimmjow reached for the pistols, his trigger fingers itching. He wasn’t sure what would happen if they reached him, and truthfully, the human had nothing to do with his mission. But something in him was screaming, telling him to move now.

But as soon as Grimmjow moved, guns unholstered and arms extended, the trio stopped hard in their tracks. The larger turned his head, fully turning, as if sniffing out something foul. Did he spot me already? Alarm bells went off in the Death Dealer’s head, every muscle in his body tensing as he prepared for a battle. However, the lycan took no notice of him, instead staring down the pathway toward another.

Turning his own head to see who held the lycan’s attention, Grimmjow felt his gut sink, eyes widening. Ulquiorra had been only a foot or so behind the trio, his eyes boring into the back of the lycan’s heads. vampires had very muted scents, easy to hide amongst the human hordes, which worked generally in their favor. It was unclear what gave away Ulquiorra’s presence, but the larger lycan had spotted him easily. Time slowed, seconds becoming minutes as Grimmjow rushed to lift his weapons to stop what was coming next.

" BLOOOOOOOOODS! "

Chaos erupted around them, bullets ripping through the air and blowing chunks of stone, iron, and concrete through glass and flesh. Screams echoed in the underground space, with Ulquiorra quickly ducking out of the path of the bullets aimed for his head.

Grimmjow didn’t miss a beat, the kick back of the pistols reverberating in his hands as he ran towards the lycans. Lights flickered around him, the small bursts of sparks lighting up the darkness as he ran. From the corner of his eye, he watched as the student ducked into the now-open train car, trying his best to avoid the carnage. Smart kid , he thought, his sights aimed on the bald lycan who locked eyes with him.

His eyes narrowing, the lycan lifted a ragged looking automatic rifle, firing without discrimination into the crowd. The overwhelming scent of blood began to creep through the station, dark brown splatters splashing against the pale tile. It was hard to hear the screaming human crowd over the gunfire, but Grimmjow could feel their desperate hands gripping at his coat hem, his ankles. 

One, two, three… but I smell more of ’em further in.

A body like a shadow, another Death Dealer, popped out from the woodwork, a hood covering their head and two weapons in hand. In true vampire fashion, they were rather outdated, eliciting a groan from Grimmjow.

Tommy Guns… so Granz decided to show up after all. Typical of him to show up when it’s convenient . Golden eyes shifted under the hood, a deadly smile following closely behind. Pink hair snaked out, an odd juxtaposition against the brutal backdrop. The look on Granz’s face was enough to elicit a scoff. Now I got these two annoyin’ fuckers…

“GET FUCKED, BLOOD-SUCKER!” the bald lycan shrieked, unleashing another uncontrolled spray of bullets in Grimmjow’s direction. As he ducked again, Grimmjow heard the sharp cry of a human woman along with a thud. Another casualty, but she hadn’t been hit anywhere vital. The smell of blood was overwhelming , his salivary glands activating. But it wasn’t the right time to think about his thirst, loading another clip into his pistol.

As Grimmjow turned his head to peer out once more, he could see the lycan growing closer, his dark eyes enlarged with rage. But, more importantly, a brightly colored mop of orange hair had come into view.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The wounded woman was propped against the wall, a shredded piece of cloth pressed into the wound. Brown eyes darting around in terror, the med student was crouched beside her, trying his best to stop the bleeding. “Just… just try to stay calm, okay? I’m gonna try and stop the bleeding, but you need to breathe. Just breathe.” His voice was shaking, and Grimmjow could hear his heart racing. Most humans would have had the good sense to run, and yet…

         “Come on out, you bastard!” With a sharp click, the lycan pumped the bolt of the rifle he picked up off the ground, a casing hitting the ground. “Why so shy all of a sudden? Com’on out ’n play, dammit!”

         Gathering himself, the Death Dealer lifted both hands, turning out confidently from his hiding spot. Each shot fired felt slow, smooth as they left the barrel. The lycan’s eyes widened as the first hit his torso, tearing into him and smoking. The silver was working its way through his system, burning into his organs, his pained screams echoing amongst the chaos. With little interest, Grimmjow stepped over his now slumped body, making his way towards the human. However, he didn’t reach him first.

         The second lycan, indecisive at first, abandoned his fallen brethren and lunged for the human, grabbing him by the back of his jacket and dragging him along. He glanced back at the Death Dealer with hatred in his eyes, wanting desperately to avenge the fallen, but knowing he had to drag his target out. 

So, they were after him, Grimmjow thought, charging after them. I ain’t lettin’ ‘em get away!

         “Aren’t you forgetting something, Jaegerjaquez?” Granz’s voice oozed condescension as he called after Grimmjow. “You do remember why we’re here, right?” His hood fell away, bright pink hair draping down to the middle of his back.

         “Ulquiorra’s gone after one lycan,” Grimmjow shot back, turning mid run. “I ain’t gonna let this one get away!”

         “But he’s not important. Don’t tell me you’re interested in that human.”

         Grimmjow, ignoring Granz, took off, following the remaining scent of the lycan and the human. Even with the rain, the smell of blood lingering on their person was enough to track. His feet felt like they barely touched the floor, almost leaping off the walls and stairs, trailing them into the shadows. They had gone into the tunnel, probably in hopes to separate Grimmjow from his team, which he had been expecting to begin with. Fuckin’ predictable.

         Two heartbeats could be heard, heavy breathing and struggling. The kid’s a fighter, it seems. The darkness was easy enough to navigate, even with the strange twists and turns of the service tunnel that diverged off the track.

“GET OFF OF ME!”

         Hearing the human shout in protest sent that unsettling jolt through Grimmjow’s cold, undead body. Like jumpstarting a vehicle. 

Ulquiorra’s gonna have my ass, he thought, effortlessly jumping through a narrow hole in the floor, sidestepping the ladder entirely. But it ain’t him I’m worried about.

         It was a dead end. Propped against the wall, the human sat beneath an opening, dim light casting deep shadows over his face. Their eyes met for a moment, his hair now wet and soaked, looking a bit more reddish brown than orange. But he was still so striking against the background, and Grimmjow couldn’t help but stare.

It was almost enough time to bring his guard down.

         The lycan popped out of the darkness, his short black bob a mess as he jumped down. The markings on his face were clearer now, the orange more of an extension of his eyelashes and the yellow a tattoo of some sort.

         “You interfered in our business, Death Dealer,” the lycan sneered. “You murdered Ikakku in cold blood, and now you want to take what was never yours to begin with. Leave now, or your limbs will be removed from your body one by one!”

         Cracking a half-smile, Grimmjow aimed the pistols at the lycan’s forehead. “Don’t promise me a good time if ya ain’t gonna back it up, wolfy. Besides, it ain’t like lycans to snag a human for more than an afternoon meal.”

         “It’s none of your business!” The lycan’s eyes bulged from his head, sickening snapping and cracking noises filling the air as his body contorted. “JUST LEAVE US BE!” His teeth extended into fangs, the purple of his irises turning a shimmering gold. Before long, he barely resembled the man that had stood before Grimmjow, now a creature who snarled in the dim light of the underground. From the corner of his eyes, the Death Dealer could see the human trembling with fear but ultimately unable to move.

         Before the first bullet could leave its chamber, the lycan was already lunging, his claws extended. Of course, Grimmjow was quicker, bending at the waist and watching the massive paw swing mere inches overhead. The smell of his opponent was worse now, like wet dog and rot. Disgusted, he kicked the lycan square in the chest, grunting as he steadied himself.

         “DEATH DEALEEEEEER!” It was an enraged howl, rattling along the concrete walls. A normal man would be disoriented by the noise, but Grimmjow’s stride was constant, his hands pushing off the concrete as he ducked again, reloading his second pistol.

[One, two .]

The sparks flew as his weapon fired, giving him a brief moment to see his enemy cower and dodge. Bits of concrete flew as the bullets hit.

[ Three, four, five .]

One managed to hit something solid, but there was no groan of pain. Bastard’s usin’ a shield. Grimmjow grimaced, moving into the shadows with the lycan . Gotta get closer . He could hear the human’s heart racing, the slight shift in his weight as he moved to watch. And you stay right where ya are, kid. I’m comin’ for ya next .

“Haven’t your kind taken enough from us?!” The lycan’s strained voice echoed through the room, mixed with a growl. “Can’t you just leave us alone? You have no right to interfere!”

Managing to find higher ground, Grimmjow’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dark. It wasn’t hard for vampires to see in darkness, but the bright flash of the pistol made it hard to fully adjust. He stayed absolutely still, waiting for movement.

“Vamps always think the world is their playground, and we their toys, strewn across the sandbox.”

He finally spotted him, the lycan’s snout peeking out from behind a slab of concrete. Keep blabbin’, wolfy. Grimmjow’s hands lifted, itching to fire . Com’on out where I can see ya .

Slowly, the lycan began to crawl out, trying to find Grimmjow. “We want our own spot in this world,” he growled. “A place where we can live without fear, without pain. We want a chance to live !”

His back was half-exposed, Grimmjow keeping his pistol raised. Almost there .

“But your kind has always been vindictive. We aren’t your slaves anymore, so now we’re your target practice!”

Turn, you bastard! Grimmjow gritted his teeth. He wanted to reach the heart. Turn around!

Moments of silence were always the most deafening. Even with the lycan in sight, Grimmjow still hadn’t quite prepared himself for what would follow. In a matter of seconds, the creature twisted, lowering to the ground and bolted, crawling on all fours, the only sound he made was the erratic splashes of water as his paws waded through. Bullets dug into concrete mere inches from the lycan’s heels, forcing Grimmjow to move.

By the time his feet hit the ground, the Death Dealer looked up to see the human in the lycan’s arms, his eyes wide with fear and the creature’s fangs an inch or two away from the crook of his neck. Drool oozed down his shoulder, soaking into his rain-soaked shirt.

Shit .

         “Those days are over, Death Dealer.” The lycan’s eyes narrowed, claws digging into human’s flesh. “Once this boy here’s been turned, you won’t know what’s coming.” He laughed menacingly, the tips of his fangs barely grazing the human’s skin. “A day of reckoning is near.”

         Grimmjow’s arm had remained extended, his hand steady as he held the pistol. Two bullets left in this one, zero in the second. His eyes narrowed. Cuttin’ it real close.

“And what’s that scrawny lookin’ human got to do with anythin’, huh?” Grimmjow’s eyes began to glow, a gentle sky blue that penetrated even the darkest of corners.

         A growl emanated from the lycan’s throat, the fur on the nape of his neck standing up. “Can’t you feel it? Smell it?”

         His eyes flickering, he looked to the human again, who looked almost as confused as he felt. Nostrils flared as the Death Dealer inhaled, absorbing every scent he could. “Smell what, exa—?” He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening.

It was faint, fragile, almost sweet.

         He barely had time to process it before the lycan laughed again. “And now that you know, you’ll also find that it’s far, far too late to do anything about it!” The sound of teeth digging into flesh and bone was sickening, followed by a scream of agony. Blood soaked into the human’s clothes, turning them a dark shade of brown.

         Grimmjow reacted a half-second too late, the bullets piercing through the lycan’s skull and lodging into his brain. The first went straight through the center of his forehead, the other hitting the left eye. In that moment, all Grimmjow’s energy was focused on the human, who crumpled under the weight of the now-dying lycan. Ripping the writhing body away, Grimmjow managed to lift the human up.

The smell was… too much.

         The human gasped, his eyes going out of focus. He looked paler, gurgling as Grimmjow pressed his hand against the open wound. Shit, shit! Either this fuckhead’s gonna die or he’s gonna turn… can’t leave him here, though.

         As he began ripping into the human’s jacket, a pale hand gripped onto the Death Dealer’s leather jacket, grabbing his attention. The human tried to speak, gripping weakly. 

“Quit it,” Grimmjow spat, wrapping the rag around the wound and pressing gently. “Don’t waste yer energy. Ain’t lookin’ to carry a corpse back with me.”

“Hnggh… hgggh…”

         Grunting as he lifted the human, Grimmjow glared at him. “I said save it, kid! Just relax. I ain’t gonna hurt ya, so save yer strength, alright?”

         Fortunately, brown eyes became heavy, lids closing and body going limp in his arms. The Death Dealer could hear his heart faintly beating, a worryingly slow pace but fast enough to keep him alive. With a final glance towards the now regressing lycan corpse, Grimmjow released a heavy sigh as he turned away from the carnage.

Well, now this situation’s just gotten even more complicated. Great.

--xx—xx--

“Have you lost your mind, Grimmjow?” Despite the soft voice, Ulquiorra’s words were abrasive, accusatory. The way he stared at the human sprawled out on the couch, unblinking and menacing, made Grimmjow more than uncomfortable. “You do understand that Tosen will not allow this, correct?”

His lips twisted in a smirk, Granz tossed a bauble in the air repeatedly, his legs draped over one armrest of his chair and his back leaning over the other. “This should really cause quite the scene, and I look forward to it, personally.” Golden eyes flickered, glancing at the still-unconscious human. “Things get boring around here. Maybe you were looking for a pet, huh?”

Groaning, Grimmjow pulled away from the gloomy, rain-streaked window, irritation burning beneath his skin. “Would both of ya shut the hell up?” he hissed. “I know Tosen’s gonna throw a fuckin’ fit. He’s a dickhead, it’s what he does. But this…” He paused. No one can know about the bite, he thought. They’ll slaughter ’im before I can open my damn mouth. 

“It’s all so strange. I mean, what do a buncha lycans want with a human?”

Granz laughed, shaking his head. “I’d think it’s fairly obvious.” The bauble landed in the palm of his hand, thin pale fingers gripping it gently. “They were looking for a bite to eat. Maybe he looked like a premium cut.”

“And what does it matter if lycans take interest in a human?” Ulquiorra added. His hands gripped the back of the blue velvet couch, dark nails digging into the cushioning. “That was not our concern. We follow orders. That is all.”

There was that familiar itch. In the back of his brain, that taste of iron, that blinding, burning desire. Despite all appearances, Grimmjow had grown accustomed to holding back that manic fury, the desire to tear into the impudent, the indulgent, the downright irritating. A Death Dealer doesn’t lash out, not if they valued their head. But sometimes, at times like this, he could feel the bonds of restraint tear.

As he was a good few inches taller than his peer, he towered over Ulquiorra, blue eyes blazing. “Perhaps that’s what you do, ya fuckin’ lap dog,” Grimmjow said in a low tone. “But Death Dealers ain’t soldiers. We’re goddamn guardians. We do everythin’ we can to keep our kind safe.”

“We are also decades away from being extinct,” Ulquiorra flung back without missing a beat. Even at his height, there was something intimidating in his stance. His eyes were sharp, tearing through Grimmjow’s leather suit and into his flesh. “If we continue like we are now, it will go from decades to five years, at most. You do not comprehend just how fragile this balance is, do you?”

An uneasy silence built up between them, with Granz glancing between them. Grimmjow could feel his face grow hot, his muscles tensing. Don’t do it. His hand clenched, aching to reach for the pistol. Watchin’ his brains smatter along the walls ain’t worth the shit that’d follow.

Taking a deep, shaky inhale, Grimmjow tensed his jaw, he pointed toward the human’s body, not looking away from Ulquiorra. “There’s somethin’ wrong with this. All of this. I mean, why would lycans risk their safety to come out of hidin’ to hunt a single, puny human? Especially if they ain’t even gonna eat ’im? And it won’t just be the Death Dealer’s who’ll bear the weight of this if I don’t try’n figure out what the hell they were tailin’ this kid for. Do you understand that, ya reanimated corpse, or do I need to spell it out for ya?” He shook his head furiously. 

Ulquiorra said nothing. He remained motionless, his unblinking stare not once wavering. But, after what seemed to be an eternity, he turned, walking toward the highly-polished wooden door and opening it. Before he left, he paused, his head turning away. 

“I hope you understand what you are doing, Grimmjow.” His feet didn’t make a sound as they hit the marbled floors, leaving Grimmjow to watch him quietly.

Realizing it was probably time to leave, Granz hopped up, placing the bauble on the table before meandering towards the door. “You know, if you’re angling for a bit of fun, you could have found it elsewhere,” he said. “Because even if there is something strange about this human, I doubt it would be as much of a threat as you seem to think it is.” Not waiting for his answer, he closed the door behind him, a small muffled giggle trailing away as he left.

Alone at last, Grimmjow finally exhaled. He closed his eyes, fingers massaging just above the orbital bones and up along the nasal cavity. No matter what path he chose at this point, it was all going to end the same. What did it matter anyways?

He walked slowly toward the couch, noticing that the smell of blood seemed to have lessened a bit. The blood on the human’s clothes had dried and solidified, caking in a brown crust on his skin. He also looked paler, which worried the Death Dealer, but he could still make out the faint sound of his heart beating. It was weak, but it was steady at the very least. Squatting down beside him, Grimmjow studied him well.

Seeing him this close, without worry of him moving was… different. Even with his eyes closed, the human looked pained. Worried. As if carrying an especially heavy burden, even in his dreams. The badge he had worn earlier was tucked in his jacket pocket, the lanyard torn and blood staining the inner part of the plastic sleeve. His hands were resting on his stomach, fingers curled slightly.

Instinctually, Grimmjow reached up, wanting to feel him, the weight of his being. It was strange, but to feel another person, especially a human, was rare. Even after hundreds of years, Grimmjow had only really known isolation. Perhaps it was just a survival instinct. But the weight of the human’s hand in his was different. It felt cold. 

Shit , he thought. He needs to warm up, or he ain’t gonna make it. Popping up, he looked all over for a blanket, groaning as he realized the only thing there was a decorative wall tapestry. Tosen won’t be happy if I use it , he thought. He can suck my dick for all I care .

Almost immediately after draping the centuries old tapestry over the human, he was nearly startled when the boy began sputtering and coughing weakly. He didn’t know what to do, fight or flight taking holding, and freeze winning out in the end as dim brown eyes eventually opened.

A few blinks later, the human finally attempted to speak. “Uh… who…?” He broke off into another coughing fit, wincing as each convulsion pulled at the bite on his shoulder and neck.

“Cool it, kid,” Grimmjow muttered, pulling away a bit. His back pressed into the table behind him, his arms draped over his knees. “Ya ain’t in a good state. If ya try to talk, it might open yer wound.” Although he had noticed that the bleeding had stopped, the thick towel he had used to stop the torrents of blood turning brown as well. Shit. He’s gonna turn soon …

“Where… where am…I?” Despite everything, the boy tried speaking again, his breathing slow and deliberate. “How’d I… get here?”

“Don’t worry ’bout where we are, kid,” Grimmjow shot back, running a hand through his hair. “Worry about stayin’ awake.”

“Who are you?”

Hesitating, his eyes locked onto the human’s. Should I answer? His lips parted, fingers curling and uncurling. I ain’t used to answering to humans anymore . 

“Grimmjow.” Despite his own reservations, his own name slipped out between his lips. “Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.”

Half-way between a laugh and a rasp, the human’s lips twisted into a faint smirk. “What… the hell kind of name… is that? Is it German or… somethin’?”

“Ya makin’ fun of my name, kid?” Blue brows furrowed, lips forming a snarl.

Faintly, the human shook his head. “I’m… Ichigo. Ichigo Kurosaki.”

“Japanese?”

Ichigo shrugged before realizing the pain that shot through him as he moved his shoulder. “Shit… what… was that back there?” he spoke through clenched teeth, reaching up to hold the towel closer. “One minute… you’re shooting up a subway, and the next… those guys turn into some weird ass creatures.”

Letting out a small laugh, Grimmjow shook his head. “I’m guessin’ ya ain’t seen a lycan before, huh?" He nodded towards Ichigo’s shoulder. “It’s a pretty nasty bite. They typically try for extremities, so it won’t kill the people they turn, but I guess the one that bit ya was a bit desperate.”

Startled, Ichigo’s eyes widened a bit, fighting back another cough. “A… wait, a what?” He made a feeble attempt to sit up, but found the task too strenuous. “Did you say… lycan?”

“Yup.”

“Like… a werewolf?”

“Kinda.”

“You’re saying they’re… real ?”

Raising an eyebrow, Grimmjow gave him a look. “Ya got a better explanation for what happened back there?”

Ichigo sputtered weakly. “W-well… could’ve been a rabid dog… o-or somethin’.” But he didn’t sound too convinced, his voice faltering.

Grimmjow laughed, standing up. “Ain’t seen a rabid dog who could talk before,” he said, opening a cabinet and pulling out a glass, pouring water from a crystal pitcher into it. “Makes less sense than a lycan.” He shut the cabinet with his free hand and kneeled beside Ichigo, offering him the glass. “Drink this.”

Cautious, Ichigo took the glass slowly from Grimmjow’s hand, bringing it to his lips and draining it in one go. As he gasped for air, he looked up at Grimmjow again, as if mulling over a thought. “Then… what’s that make you?” he asked. “You’re… not human, I take it.”

“Wow, what gave it away, kid?”

“I’m pretty sure it was the fact that you have the dexterity of a jungle cat and can move easily in… an all-leather bodysuit.” He gulped, eyeing Grimmjow’s getup for a moment. “That and there probably aren’t… many humans who can fight lycans like that. They’d be shredded in an instant.”

A crooked grin crossed Grimmjow’s face. “You sayin’ that as a medical student?”

Ichigo froze. “Uh… how did you — ?”

Pointing to the badge poking out of Ichigo’s jacket pocket, Grimmjow said, “That was a dead giveaway. Things may’ve changed in the medical world, but it’s always been easy to spot a doctor in every era. In my day, it was an unwieldy suitcase and a jar or two of leeches.” He raised his hands, making air quotes. “To drain the ‘bad humours’, or whatever bullshit they used to tell us.”

There was a long pause, with Ichigo blinking a few times as he tried to process everything. “How… how old are you? What are you?”

“Ya sure ya wanna know?”

“It’ll freak me out more if you don’t tell me.”

“Guess.”

With another brief pause, Ichigo seemed to comb over him, brown eyes brightening as the cogs in his brain turned. It was clear he was getting stronger, which both concerned Grimmjow greatly, but also gave him an odd sense of relief. He’s changing for sure, but… there’s somethin’ weird about it. Somethin’ that ain’t makin’ sense.

“You’re… a vampire.”

The smile reappeared. “Bingo, kid.”

His eyes narrowing, Ichigo looked like he didn’t want to believe it. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?” His eyes swiveled, taking in the room, noticing just how fancy it was. Grimmjow could practically smell his fear. “This is some kind of… weird game. Y-You’ve got me on camera or something, don’t you?” He gripped the blanket tightly. “Some weird TV show, or a fucked-up porn?”

Grimmjow sighed. “Listen, Kurosaki, I — ”

“There’s no such thing as lycans, or vampires, or-or… whatever else you’re going to try and tell me is real!” Managing to sit a bit, Ichigo’s free hand gripped the couch. He was recovering faster, becoming more aware. “What’re you trying to pull? And why on me? I-I’m just some med student way over my head in student loans. I don’t…” He shook his head slightly, his breathing becoming more labored, panicked. “What… what do you want from me?”

“Look.” Biting back frustration, Grimmjow’s voice was far more sinister than he had intended, but it stopped Ichigo from continuing on. “There ain’t time for a long explanation, but the gist of it is, I saved your ass. The lycans were after you. I ain’t quite sure why, but there’s somethin’ strange happenin’. And if keepin’ you here till I figure out why bothers ya, I can just knock ya out again.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s also the fact that ya got yer ass bitten by a lycan, which ain’t good news either.”

Exasperated, Ichigo’s hands lifted, fingers running through his hair. “Oh great, so you’re gonna tell me that I’m turning or something like that, right?”

“Don’t get smart with me.” Grimmjow rose, leaning over Ichigo as he snarled. “You have eyes, don’tcha? Didn’t ya see what happened at the station? And what about a wound like that, huh? Ya should’ve bled out before I even got you here, but yer still fuckin’ breathin’.”

The fear in Ichigo’s eyes returned and the smell of his blood once again began to overwhelm Grimmjow’s senses. If he had begun turning into a lycan, his blood would smell rotten, disgusting. But somehow it smelled more intoxicating. Grimmjow could feel himself getting closer, fangs beginning to extend. He was inches from Ichigo’s face, leaning over him lustfully.

“Now, how ya gonna make sense of that, Mister Med Student? Huh?”

Swallowing hard, Ichigo struggled to speak. Sweat formed, inflaming the smell tenfold. “Did… did your teeth just extend?” he managed, his face inches from Grimmjow’s. His breathing had gone shallow, a tinge of color rising in his cheeks. “And you’re… you’re drooling on me. You’re not gonna bite me, are you?”

Grimmjow hadn’t intended to transform on the spot, his eyes closing. “Not unless ya keep askin’ stupid questions, kid,” he muttered, pulling away. “Now, ya done tryin’ to over-rationalize this shit, or ya gonna make this easier?”

Ichigo hesitated, his head bent forward. He looked tired, a bit out of sorts, and overall afraid. But Grimmjow knew that he’d realize there was no other choice. If he went back to the human world, he’d either turn and become a danger to himself and others, or the lycans would find him. Probably both.

“Fine.” There was a bit of despair in the human’s voice, followed by a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go along with… this. But what’s the plan? Am I…” Realization washed over him, eyes widening. “Wait a minute, am I really turning into — ?”

Grimmjow turned to face him, dumbfounded. “ NOW ya realize this?”

“H-holy shit!” Ichigo’s eyes swiveled, staring down at the towel that covered his wound. “A-am I… what’s gonna happen? I mean, I don’t really feel any different, but…” Slowly, he pulled the towel back, getting a look at what lay beneath. To his surprise, however, the wound looked more like a scar, dried blood covering it. “Oh my god, it healed.”

Well, guess it’s pretty much a given now.  

Rubbing his face, Grimmjow said, “Well, looks like yer a full lycan now. Really ain’t much I can do to change that.”

“WHAT?!” Ichigo yelped, dropping the towel. “No nonono ! No, this can’t happen! Not now! I — ”

A hand clamped over his mouth, Grimmjow’s face contorted once more. “ Would ya keep yer fuckin’ voice down?! ” His eyes darted to the door. “Yer in a house full of vampires. It’s bad enough that ya were human, but the moment they find out yer a new goddamn lycan, it’s over. Yer dead .”

He could feel Ichigo’s body freeze under his touch, muscles locking up. As Grimmjow pulled his hand away, Ichigo whispered, “You’re just now telling me this is a vampire den?! What the hell? ”

“Ya didn’t even believe in lycans a few seconds ago, how was I gonna explain to ya we’re in a house full of vampires?”

Pulling away, Ichigo paced through the room, his hands fidgeting. He muttered to himself, trying to make sense of it all. And the more he moved, the more the scent of the dried blood on his clothes wafted through the air. Fighting back his own urges, Grimmjow realized he’d need to give Ichigo new clothes and discard the ones he was wearing. He approached a set of mahogany dressers, opening the middle drawer. Thankfully, there were a few articles of clothing stashed in there. Pulling out a few things, Grimmjow turned back to Ichigo, tossing them towards him. Ichigo in turn fumbled as he caught them, giving Grimmjow a questioning look.

“Ya can’t wear those clothes,” the Death Dealer explained. “If yer gonna be in here, ya gotta change.”

“But… why?”

“Oh, gee I could think of several fuckin’ reasons, kid. Unless ya like wearing blood-stained rags, I’d suggest ya change. Besides, wearin’ clothes covered in human’s blood around here is probably a terrible fuckin’ idea.”

Shrugging, Ichigo conceded. “I’m surprised you just pulled some clothes out of a random drawer, though.”

“Vampire dens are more’n just a place where we live.” Grimmjow suddenly felt uncomfortable. “We engage in many pleasures other’n drinkin’ blood. So, you’ll find spare clothes lyin’ around in many places, and rarely their owners come to collect ’em.”

Ichigo’s face went beet red. “O-oh, gotcha. Okay…” Then, his lips curled in a slightly playful smile. “Guess I’m also just glad you didn’t hand me a full body leather suit like the one you’re wearing.”

Grimmjow snarled. “Just get changed, smart ass.”

--xx—xx--

Frivolity could be seen at every corner, spilling out from miscellaneous bedrooms and lacing through living spaces. Mixtures of crimson and marble, ebony and ivory, and every decadence imaginable from the last few centuries hung through the mansion in an opulent disaster. It turned Ulquiorra’s stomach every time he walked through.

Every eye was on him as he passed, either filled with lust or hatred. It was the way of the manor, a disgusting truth that Ulquiorra had long grown accustomed to during Lord Aizen’s absence. He walked as straight a path as he could, barely skirting the obscene mess of discarded clothing and discarded trash as he made his way to the back of the manor. Voices of the revelers echoed behind him in the empty hall, guards barely hidden behind pillars. The glint of automatic rifles could be seen in the dim light. But Ulquiorra’s eyes remained ahead, aiming for the large, wooden double doors at the end. However, before he could even touch the cold wood surface, they opened up before him, revealing the smirking face of Granz behind them.

“I was wondering when you’d get here, Ulquiorra.” His smile was sickening and his golden eyes glimmered terribly behind his bone-white spectacles. “I’m surprised you didn’t make a beeline here after leaving Grimmjow with his new… pet.”

A slight twitch occurred under Ulquiorra’s eye, a minor glitch in his emotionless façade. “Why are you here, then?” he asked, walking past Granz. “Do you have something to report to Lord Tosen as well, or are you here to cause trouble?”

Keeping pace, Granz snickered. “Oh, please. I’m just here to see what you plan to do about our new situation. I’m just trying to stay in the loop, you understand.”

His dark upper lip curling slightly, Ulquiorra released a measured sigh. “Unless you are here to provide further information on the situation, I would suggest leaving the report up to me.”

“So, you are going to tattle on Grimmjow!” Granz leaned forward, trying to get a better view of Ulquiorra’s expression. “You really are a good little lap dog, aren’t you? Even when Lord Aizen’s gone, you still answer to authority. Quite astonishing, really.”

With a loud click of his heels, Ulquiorra came to an abrupt stop. Granz stopped a step or two ahead, meeting Ulquiorra’s gaze. “We are Death Dealers, Granz,” he said, his quiet voice razor sharp. “Our number one priority is to keep the elders safe. All of them. We do not have the luxury of our brethren, who traipse about as they do behind the scenes, playing politics and indulging on their every whim. But it would seem that you have forgotten that over the years.”

“Ouch!” Feigning apologetics, Granz took a step towards him. “I must have struck a nerve. Lord Aizen’s little Lap Dog is angry with me! What ever shall I do to make it up to you?” Hand on his chest, he lowered his head, leveling with Ulquiorra as he mocked him. “Don’t pretend your intentions are that pure, Cifer. We all know that you’re Aizen’s pet in more ways than one. You merely wish to maintain the façade while he slumbers, even if that means sucking off Lord Tosen on the side — ”

The bright flash of gunfire briefly filled the room with blinding light, a silencer at the end of the muzzle muffling the garish sound as a bullet fired. Smoke billowed at the end, a green eye lined up perfectly. Granz stood startled, his smile interrupted by brief shock.

“I would be careful what rumors you listen to, Granz,” Ulquiorra said, his tone even. “They just might be the death of you if you go around mindlessly believing everything you hear.” He lowered his pistol, sliding it back into the holster hidden beneath his jacket. “My relationship with the Elders – beyond what occurs officially – is certainly no one’s business. Especially not yours .” With that, he continued on his way, ignoring the look Granz shot at him before disappearing into the darkness.

Reaching Tosen’s office without further delay, Ulquiorra stood in the doorway silently.

“Come in, Cifer.”

Kaname Tosen did not disrupt his work, blind eyes hidden behind tinted glasses, his expression stoic as he continued scribbling on the document set before him. “You have something to report, I presume?”

Taking a step into the room, Ulquiorra stood before the obscenely large desk, hands hanging loosely at his sides. “I am pleased to report that we have a strong lead on the lycan’s nest. It is indeed tucked into the subway system, spanning across the many backrooms and abandoned areas.”

“But?” Tosen’s voice was expecting, waiting for the rest of the report.

“But we ran into… a problem.”

The pen coming to a screeching halt, Tosen lifted his head, braids sliding on his dark woolen suit jacket. “A problem?” He sat back a bit, head tilting. “What sort of problem?”

Hesitating for a moment, Ulquiorra’s lips remained parted as he considered his next words carefully. “We found a small pack of lycans following a human, Lord Tosen.”

“A human?”

“Yes.”

         Going silent, Tosen folded his hands over his work. Ulquiorra dared not move, keeping his eyes solely on Tosen as he awaited further instruction. “Well, this is certainly distressing.” Rising from his chair, Tosen rounded the desk, hands behind his back. “And what became of this pack?”

“Two members were eliminated,” Ulquiorra replied. “One managed to escape, though he was significantly wounded.”

Pause. “Was the human killed?”

Another pause. “The human was wounded. He was brought back to the manor on Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez’s authority.”

The reaction on Tosen’s face was immediate. “He what ?” The normal expressionless tone was replaced by terse exasperation. “The human is here?”

“Yes. I suspect that he was wounded, but I am not aware to what extent. But as of a few moments ago, he is currently unconscious.”

“This is unacceptable.” Tosen turned away, his back to Ulquiorra. “We cannot allow a human to reside here in the manor. It would disrupt the nature of our already delicate balance. Perhaps it might even start a feud with the nobility present.” His fingers flexed behind him, the gold ornaments in his hair glinting as he moved under the light. “Where are Grimmjow and this human now?”

“They are in the south wing, taking shelter in one of the parlors.” Ulquiorra never wavered in his answers, but his eyes narrowed slightly. “What are your orders, Lord Tosen?”

Turning back to face him, Tosen exhaled sharply. “I want the human disposed of discreetly. Then I want Grimmjow in my office immediately. He will answer for his insolence.” He shook his head slowly. “He was always a rash one, but for him to do something like this? Unthinkable.”

Then, waving his hand in the air, he sent Ulquiorra on his way. “You are also to complete this on your own. Do not involve anyone else. Understood?”

With a single nod, Ulquiorra turned towards the door. “Yes, Lord Tosen.” The door opened and closed quietly as he returned to the dark hall, dim candle light illuminating his path.

Behind him, a pair of golden eyes watched as he receded. With a twisted smirk on his face, Granz pushed away from the wall where he had been stationed, slowly following Ulquiorra. “This should be interesting,” he whispered, flaring out his long leather jacket and resting his hands on the backs of his Tommy guns.

--xx—xx--

“Man, you sure about these clothes?”

Grimacing, Grimmjow turned to see Ichigo wearing what he’d given him. Dark pants that were a little too tight, dark shirt a little too baggy and a jacket that seemed a bit out of place. 

“I feel like I went to an estate sale and the owners dressed me up themselves.”

“They’re just clothes, kid,” Grimmjow said nonchalantly, packing a few rounds of ammo into his pistol. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. We’re just trying to get ya out of here in one piece. We’ll get ya new ones later or somethin’, just quit yer complainin’.”

Adjusting himself in front of a mirror, Ichigo studied his outfit one last time. “Are vampires allergic to color or something?” He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “This jacket must’ve been in those drawers for over a century.”

Ignoring Ichigo’s comments, Grimmjow reached for a small satchel that had been sitting on one of the tables, tossing it to Ichigo. “Here, you’re also gonna need this.”

Ichigo barely caught it, fumbling it in his hands for a moment before holding it up. It was a plastic bag with medical instructions on the outside, dark liquid swaying inside. It took him less than a minute to realize just what it was. “H-holy shit! This is blood!” He almost dropped it, a look of horror crossing his face.

“Yer gonna get hungry real soon,” Grimmjow said, finishing his own preparations as he looked up. “And I doubt yer wantin’ to eat a livin’ human. Most of yer kind ain’t into that. But lycan poison spreads quickly once the wound heals, so I ain’t takin’ any chances.”

“I-I can’t drink this!” Ichigo managed, holding the bag away from him.

Grimmjow walked towards him with an irritated look in his eyes. “Ya won’t be saying that later when the shakes start. And I’ll need ya to have all the energy ya can get, because we’re gonna be on the move for a while.” He pushed the bag into Ichigo’s chest. “Hold onto it.”

With a reluctant sigh, Ichigo stashed the bag in his jacket. Then, as a thought occurred to him, he asked, “Wait, so… what kind of effects are we talking about here? And why haven’t I really had any yet?”

“One of the effects is that ya didn’t bleed dry. That wound on yer neck should’ve killed ya, but instead your body absorbed the poison from the lycan’s bite, allowing for quick healin’.” Click-click . Popping the magazine out of the pistol, Grimmjow reloaded it quickly, then slid it back in. “Ya probably won’t really feel anythin’ til ya get hungry, or somethin’ made of silver knicks ya." 

He lifted his head. "Oh yeah, yer gonna wanna avoid silver from now on.”

Ichigo’s shoulders sagged. “Seriously? That wasn’t something that Hollywood just made up?”

Sliding the pistols back into his holsters, Grimmjow gave him a look. “Just don’t lose that blood bag. I don’t need ya turnin’ the moment yer stomach growls.”

A knock on the door startled them both, Grimmjow’s shoulders squaring up instantly. His hands hovered over his holsters, prepared to draw them again. It had been a subtle knock, patient. Ulquiorra … 

He glanced back at Ichigo again. “We gotta go,” he said in a low tone. “ Now .”

His eyes darted towards the door and Ichigo’s body tensed up. “W-what’s — ?” But Grimmjow grabbed his arm, nearly dragging him towards the window. “H-Hey!”

The windows were flung open, the frigid night air washing over the pair. Ichigo went pale, realizing what was about to happen. “We could just use a door or something. Why are we — ?”

“Shut the hell up. It looks like the higher ups know yer here, and if ya stay put, ya ain’t gonna be here for much longer.” With little effort, the Death Dealer swung his legs over the windowsill, his hair fluttering as the wind picked up. He extended his hand, waiting for Ichigo to take it. “So, we can’t stick around. Com’on.”

Another knock could be heard, more deliberate this time, slower and harsher in tone. Ichigo jumped at the sound, shaking him out of his stupor. His hands curled into fists, choking back his fear as he took a breath. “Fine,” he managed. “But just… don’t drop me, okay?”

The door burst open, a flurry of motion taking place in a fraction of a second. Grimmjow’s arm snaked around the human’s waist, yanking him off his feet as he pushed out the window. He didn’t even have to look back to see that Ulquiorra was hot on their heels, leaping over the couch and heading towards the now-empty window. There was dead air, his skin numbing as the cold air whipped against him wildly.

And then his feet hit the ground, the world suddenly coming into focus once again.

Muffled shouts could be heard from above, half-drunken spectators gathering by the large bay windows above. Grimmjow grimaced, setting Ichigo down. “You’re gonna have to keep up.”

The moment he patted Ichigo on the shoulder, the human turned away, keeling over and vomiting violently to the side. Groaning, Grimmjow picked him up again, dashing across the expanse that was the grassy lawn of the mansion, his black boots kicking up grass and mud in a careless attempt to escape. 

Ten meters to the gate , he listed off, ignoring the bile that was dripping onto his leather trench coat. There’ll be a car of some sort to take off with, ’specially with all the royalty millin’ about in there. He glanced up one more time at the drunken, ecstasy-filled and glazed over gazes that followed him into the darkness. Disgustin’ .

Shots rang out into the night, narrowly missing the right side of Grimmjow’s temple. The whine of the metal bits seared into his eardrum, drowning out Ichigo’s frightened yelps. “Your friend’s catching up!” Ichigo screamed, patting frantically against Grimmjow’s arm. “It’s like he’s flying or something!”

“Just keep yer head down, kid!” Grimmjow shot back. “Only reason ya ain’t got a bullet in yer head is ’cause I’m faster than he is.”

“Then why’s he catching up to you?!”

That retort stung a little. “Worry about stayin’ alive, will ya?!”

Bullets embedded into tree trunks and buried deep into the frozen earth, but Grimmjow broke through the tree line, making a beeline for one of the parked vehicles sitting in the courtyard. Of course, a few stray bullets hit the ring of vehicles, the hiss of air escaping tires following the ricochet. Fortunately for Grimmjow, however, the car closest to him remained relatively untouched, the keys in the ignition. There was generally no fear that vehicles would be stolen at a castle of vampires.

He shoved Ichigo unceremoniously into the front seat of the car, barely giving him enough time to protest before Grimmjow shut the door on him. He looked back once. Ulquiorra’s dark figure was a blur in the darkness, but he was gaining on them, driven to drag them back. 

“Shit.” Sliding over the hood of the car, Grimmjow scrambled into the driver’s seat, revving the engine and nearly crashing into one of the bullet-riddled cars behind him.

“Holy shit,” Ichigo muttered under his breath. “Holy fucking shit, he’s so fast.”

“He’s a Death Dealer.” Grimmjow planted his foot on the gas, barreling towards the gate. “We’re nothin’ if not fast. Buckle in. This ain’t gonna be a smooth ride.”

His hands shaking, Ichigo managed to buckle his seatbelt before the car broke through the iron gate and scraped down the road, trees whirring past them. “Is a car really going to out run that guy?”

“Nah. But it beats carryin’ ya on my shoulders the entire way.” The car swerved, nearly hitting the guard rail that indicated the sharp curve in the road. “Also, we’re gonna need it if we’re headin’ back into the city.”

The human nearly did a double take. “Wait, what?” He looked back, seeing if Ulquiorra was still in pursuit. “Why would we go there?!”

“You have any better fuckin’ places to go, Kurosaki?” Grimmjow fired back.

“We can’t just bring a homicidal vampire with us into New York!” Ichigo protested. “People will die! Just like… what happened back at the station.” He paused, his lips pursing as he recalled the injured. “Who knows what could happen with just him on our tail.”

“He can’t follow us in.”

“Huh?”

Narrowly missing another car’s bumper, Grimmjow barely looked his way as he explained. “Ulquiorra ain’t gonna follow us in. He’d need clearance, and I doubt he got that before he started after us.”

Ichigo looked surprised. “You guys monitor that kind of thing? The comings and goings of vampires into the human world? Why?”

Blue eyes flashed in the sudden light of an oncoming car. “We vampires try to stay hidden,” Grimmjow answered. “We interact as little as we can so no one notices us. Humans are a hell of a lot more prolific these days than when I started out. The moment ya sniff us out, we’ll be outnumbered.”

“I… wow.” Ichigo sat back in his seat, pondering. “Never would’ve guessed.”

Letting out a small peal of sardonic laughter, Grimmjow shook his head. “You’ve only been in the vampire world for less than a few hours. Doubt ya coulda figured that out by now, kid.”

Something landed on the roof, the metal denting under whatever it was. Ichigo yelped again in fear, gripping the door handle as he tried to lower himself the best he could. “I THOUGHT YOU SAID HE WOULDN’T FOLLOW US INTO THE CITY!” he shouted, glaring at Grimmjow.

“He can’t follow us into the city, but he sure as hell’s gonna try to stop us from getting there!” Reaching back, Grimmjow pulled out a short, stout rifle, aiming it towards the roof. “Cover yer ears!”

Not long after, a hole was ripped through the metal roof, cold air filtering in after the round was fired. Without taking his eyes off the road, Grimmjow fired again and again. He watched as Ulquiorra slid off the roof and onto the hood of his car, green eyes glowing brightly beneath his thick, dark eyebrows.

“Shit!” Grimmjow tossed a blanket over Ichigo, covering him before firing off another volley into the windshield, glass shattering and scattering along the interior. Of course, those only missed Ulquiorra, who took advantage of the now-open windshield and made a grab for Ichigo. Cutting him off, Grimmjow grabbed his wrist, finding himself being yanked out of the driver’s seat and onto the car’s hood as well. A pale hand cut off his airway, pinning him down.

“What a shame.” Somehow, Ulquiorra’s calm voice cut through the roaring wind, dark nails digging into Grimmjow’s neck. “And Lord Aizen considered you one of his elite Death Dealers. For you to betray him like this…” The barrel of his gun hovered over Grimmjow’s forehead, the cold metal pressing into his skin. “Well, I cannot say I will mourn your loss all that much.”

The world swayed around them, the car starting to go off the road in Grimmjow’s absence. Fuck! His own nails tore into Ulquiorra’s hands, desperate to get away. “But it is a shame that you would throw away your talents for a human pet. I never presumed you were that much of an idiot. So be it, I — ”

The car swerved again, doing a complete donut in the middle of the road before coming to a stop. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow fell off the hood of the car, their bodies rolling in separate directions. Grimmjow’s throat burned, gravel embedded in his skin and hair. He choked, slowly rising up, leveling himself on the palm of his hand. As his vision began to go back to normal, he could see Ichigo’s unruly mop of orange hair pop out of the driver’s window. 

“Grimmjow, hey!” He waved erratically, brown eyes wide. “Come on, get in the car!”

         Holy shit. Grimmjow rose to his feet, half-limping back towards the car, with Ulquiorra nowhere in sight. It wasn’t a good sign, he knew, but the faster they got out of there, the better chance they had of crossing into the city safely. Or safe for a short period of time, at the very least.

“You alright?” Ichigo waited for the door to close behind Grimmjow before tearing down the road again, the faint outlines of skyscrapers peeking over treetops.

Wiping his face, Grimmjow glanced towards Ichigo, giving him a once over. “Never better.” He could taste his own blood, the cold and stale liquid slowly oozing from a cut on his lip. “I didn’t know you could drive.”

Ichigo shot him a sheepish grin. “I’ve actually never driven a car before,” he shot back. “I’ve played GTA enough to get the gist, though.”

The Death Dealer slunk back into the seat, unsure if he should find that worrying or comforting. “Either way, I guess… ya saved my ass back there.” Even speaking the words felt wrong. “Ya had every opportunity to just drive away, so why didn’t — ?”

“Is that really your way of saying thank you? By asking another question?” Ichigo cracked a small smirk, glancing at Grimmjow briefly. He chuckled slightly, shaking his head. “Say I did leave you, and your buddy back there killed you or whatever. I’d have no real chance for survival. He’d stalk me, or I’d turn, if what you say is correct, and I’d have no idea how to handle either of those things.” 

Ichigo paused, biting his lower lip as he considered further possibilities in his head. “There’s no going back to normal after this. Not really, anyways. I’ll be looking over my shoulder forever.”

Smart kid . Grimmjow’s gaze lingered, watching this scrawny, pale human struggle to keep the car on the road, his brown eyes filled with determination. Shaky as he was, this Ichigo had a real fight in him, Grimmjow couldn’t deny it. His eyes then wandered towards the bandage peeking out of the ill-fitting shirt he had given the human earlier, a knot forming in his stomach.

“Speakin’ of turnin’,” Grimmjow said, “how’re ya feelin?”

Ichigo shrugged. “I don’t really feel all that different, actually. Tired, sure, but…” His expression changed as an ominous sound emerged from his stomach. It was loud enough that Grimmjow could hear it distinctly, his blue eyes widening.

“Pull over,” he demanded.

“We have to keep moving, right?” Ichigo protested.

“Kid, I said pull the hell over right now .”

“But — ”

Grimmjow pulled the emergency break, nearly sending the car into the dark woods on their right. As the car came to a squealing, smokey stop, Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo’s collar, yanking him closer. 

“Listen to me, and ya listen well,” he growled. “Yer not a damn human anymore. Yer gonna have to accept that as fact. And now that we know yer stomach’s fuckin’ empty, yer not gonna want to head into the heart of a human-infested terrain. Ya will draw attention if ya eat a person or two, trust me.” He yanked the blood bag out of Ichigo’s coat pocket, practically shoving it in his face. “Now, I’m gonna need ya to drink this.”

Seeing the lukewarm bag of blood in Grimmjow’s hand get closer to his face, Ichigo shrunk back, trying to escape. “N-no way in hell am I — ”

“This ain’t a fuckin’ question!” Grimmjow pulled him back. “Look at it this way: ya either drink this shit, or ya eat a person. Which one sits better on yer goddamn conscience, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo’s face fell, finally letting it sink in. After a few moments of tense silence, he reached out and took the bag in hand, holding it for a moment before tearing off a corner. The look on his face was almost enough to make Grimmjow feel the tiniest bit bad for him, wondering if he was going to cry. He let go of his shirt, sitting back in his seat as he watched.

“You guys need to drink this stuff too, don’t you?” It was in the form of a question, but it was obvious that Ichigo knew the answer. Looking up from the bag, Ichigo asked, “Is this from a real human?”

Rubbing his face, Grimmjow groaned. “Just. Drink. It.”

Ichigo closed his eyes, slowly putting his lips to the bag and tilting it back. At first, he looked like he wanted to projectile vomit, his throat constricting as the blood went down. He had to pause, holding it in. Then, presumably as soon as it hit his stomach, something changed. The look of disgust abated, turning into a ravenous craze. Ichigo brought the bag back to his lips hungrily, draining it quickly. His eyes all the while began to go from light brown to gold, the shadows outlining his face deepening significantly.

Instinctually, Grimmjow’s hands went for his pistols. I guess I didn’t plan this out well in my head. He had prepared for the fact that Ichigo would turn eventually, but he somehow hadn’t thought of the fact that tasting blood alone might jumpstart that process a lot faster. There was hesitation in his own grasp, which didn’t settle well within him . I’d never hesitate to eliminate a god damn lycan, so why…?

Pulling the bag away, Ichigo gasped for air, a bit of blood dribbling down his lips and onto his already putrid shirt. He turned to look at Grimmjow, his eyes glimmering an ethereal cyan, the ends of his teeth now sharper than before. But he didn’t make any threatening movements, his body heaving as he began breathing loudly.

“Holy… shit…” He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, looking down at the blood that stained it. “I feel… energized as hell.” He inspected it before lapping at the stain.

Grimmjow was relieved, though the knot in his stomach tightened even further. He’s got fantastic restraint for a new lycan, he noted, watching Ichigo warily. Most others would be tearing through anythin’ standin’ in their way just to get more blood. But he’s… His hands pulled away from his pistols as he twisted in his seat, head tilting to the side as he watched. Guess I really gotta figure out why the hell those dogs wanted to turn him in the first place .

“I feel like I just drank a ton of Red Bulls or something.” The blue in Ichigo’s eyes faded a bit as he sat back, eyes darting around the car like crazy. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. Hell, my heart’s… racing right now. I could run a freakin’ marathon!” His eyes narrowed, meeting Grimmjow’s stare. “You sure that wasn’t some sort of weird medicine or something?”

The Death Dealer shook his head. “Nope, that’s just frozen human blood. I’m surprised ya weren’t fallin’ apart earlier, because if a new lycan doesn’t get fed almost immediately after bein’ bitten, they get real weak and can’t function. So, it ain’t surprisin’ you’d feel a huge energy boost.” He opened the glove compartment in front of him, inspecting it. “Hell, yer body’s practically changed in the past few hours. Ya might even be able to run several marathons in the matter of hours.”

“No kidding.” Ichigo licked his lips. “I feel better than I ever have. I could take on all nighters no problem… now…” His smile faltered almost as soon as it appeared, another wave of realization overtaking him. “No more… no more med school, huh?” He looked down at the empty blood bag, as if regretting everything. “What am I gonna tell my family?”

Upon the mention of family, Grimmjow turned. “You’ve got family?”

“My dad and younger sisters.” Ichigo’s voice was hollow now, his head resting on the head rest. “I can’t risk their lives by going to see them now. But they have to know somehow that I won’t — ” He couldn’t finish the sentence, swallowing the words back down as if they were too painful.

An uneasy silence permeated the car. Grimmjow didn’t move, looking down at the empty blood bag as well. Then, resuming his task, he pulled two or three bags of blood out of the glove compartment, snapping the door shut. 

“We’ll figure somethin’ out. For now, we gotta move,” he mumbled, shoving the bags into his trench coat. Opening the passenger door, he made his way to the driver’s side and opened the door. “My turn to drive this time.”

He didn’t expect the intoxicating smell that surrounded Ichigo the moment he got out. It was overwhelming, wave after wave hitting him all at once. Grimmjow barely caught the expression that crossed Ichigo’s face as he stumbled back, hand covering the lower half of his face. It was instinctual, somehow. How’d I not fuckin’ smell that before?! he wondered, crouching over the wet asphalt.

“Uh… you alright, Grimmjow?” Ichigo held the door open, unsure what to do.

But Grimmjow waved at him wildly, barely looking back. “Just get in the passenger seat, will ya?” 

Speaking forced more of the smell into his nostrils, his vision clouding a bit. It was sweeter than the first time he’d smelled it radiating off of Ichigo’s body. There was no easy way to describe it, but perhaps the best way was that it was magnetizing. In reality, he wanted nothing more than to get closer to Ichigo. To a lycan . It was unthinkable. Then again, this whole night was unthinkable for Grimmjow.

Pull yerself together, dickhead!

Taking another deep breath, Grimmjow finally stood up straight, letting the chilled night air drown out all senses. We have to get out of here. It won’t be long before Ulquiorra’s granted permission to enter the city. With that, he turned to the car, sliding effortlessly into the driver’s seat.

“Hey, uh… you sure you’re okay?” Ichigo looked worried. “I mean, I can — ”

The car ignition roared to life, cutting Ichigo off before he could finish. “The quicker we get into the city limits, the faster we can get a plan together.” Grimmjow could barely look at Ichigo before pressing his foot down on the gas, barreling down the road and into the night.

--x—x—

Pulling off the interstate, Grimmjow and Ichigo found it incredibly unnerving at how empty the streets seemed to be. “So much for the city that apparently never sleeps,” Grimmjow muttered. “Where’d all the traffic go?”

A little jumpy, Ichigo looked around through the windows, his hands gripping the back of his chair. “I… I can’t hear anything either. It’s like there’s no one here.”

“Yer improved hearin’ kicked in, did it?”

Ichigo looked at him, a bit stunned. “I thought you just left a window down or something at first. No wonder everything’s so damn loud.”

Shaking his head, Grimmjow ran the long red light that kept them at the intersection, speeding through the empty streets with ease.

“Hey! Don’t do that, what if we — ”

“Do ya see any cops around, Kurosaki?”

“W-well, just in case!” Ichigo was indignant. “We don’t wanna get pulled over and have to explain to them why we don’t have a license or registration, right?”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. “Just leave this to me, kid. I got — ” Suddenly, Grimmjow slammed the brakes, the rubber on their tires rubbing off on the street as they narrowly avoided hitting a solitary figure standing in front of their path.

Panting, Grimmjow looked up, seeing who it was standing in their path. The first thing he noticed was the bright, white coat that hung off the person’s wiry frame, and the second was the long, sharp smile that sat above it. It was a man, with long silver hair and eyes closed, but his confident smirk gave Grimmjow an instantly uncomfortable feeling. His brain was screaming, telling him to pull out his pistols. He wasn’t human, that was for sure. And he seemed more than comfortable with standing in their way.

“What’s this guy think he’s doing?” Ichigo managed, grunting as he sat forward. “We nearly ran him over.”

Ignoring him, Grimmjow opened the door, pistols in hand as he got out. His jaw was tight, rolling his shoulders as he stood tall. “It ain’t safe just standin’ in the middle of the road,” he called out, tentatively stopping to the side of the car. “Somethin’ I can help ya with?”

The thin smile split in two, revealing shiny teeth. “Oh, I think you’ve helped me plenty, Death Dealer.” The man’s voice oozed through the night air. “You’ve brought the boy right to me, after all, and I simply can’t thank you enough!”

As if on cue, Ichigo’s car door opened, orange locks drifting gently in the wind.

“Ya got business with the kid?” Grimmjow vaguely pointed in Ichigo’s direction with the muzzle of his pistol. “Didn’t know ya were such a close friend.” The markings under his eyes extended as his eyes shifted, a terrible feeling filling the air. “Sorry to say, but he and I got business together. He ain’t got time to play with ya right now.” The smell of wet dog began to permeate, filling his nose. Lycan .

The man laughed, head tilting. “Oh? Well, I guess I’m going to have to interrupt.” He took a step forward, hand raised as he pointed at Grimmjow. “You see, it would seem that you intercepted him before my team could bring him to me as ordered. He belongs to me now, Death Dealer.” Closed eyes turned to slits, revealing clear blue irises beneath. They were like glass, glimmering between dark lashes. 

“And who are ya, exactly?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of me, whispered through your decrepit courts.” The man leaned in, like he was sharing a secret. “I’m Gin Ichimaru.”

Grimmjow was sure he misheard the man, his mind barely processing the words in real time. “There’s no way,” he managed. “Gin Ichimaru, the leader of the lycans?”

Laughing again, Gin waved him off, as if the Death Dealer had given him a compliment. “Oh, the very same! I knew you’d know me! I haven’t been gone for that long, after all.”

“Yer dead.” The words fell harshly from Grimmjow’s lips. “Lord Tosen slaughtered you almost four centuries ago. There ain’t no way yer Gin Ichimaru.”

The laughter ceased, eyes opening once again. This time, Gin’s smile was far more dangerous. Sharp, like a knife. “Dead? Is that what he told you?”

“Uh, Grimm?” Ichigo’s voice warbled a bit as he interrupted. “Who’s this guy?”

As if remembering Ichigo was there, Gin’s attention turned in an instant, reminded that his new toy was there and awaiting attention. “Forgive me, where are my manners?” He cleared his throat, arms extended wide. “I am Gin Ichimaru, the first of the lycans – and, by default, their leader. And I welcome you into our fold, Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Grimmjow couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this level of fear permeate through his body. His hands gripped his pistols, hanging at his sides at the ready, but all he could do was stare at Ichigo, frozen in place.

Of course, Ichigo looked confused and dumbfounded, trying to understand. “Oh, uh… no thanks?” He shrugged nervously. “I-I’m not really — ”

But his words were lost in Gin’s raucous laughter, echoing through the empty streets as he doubled over. It took him a moment to compose himself, his hands holding his sides and a tear actually trailing down his face. “Never in my long, long life has anyone ever turned me down so casually,” Gin managed at last. “As if it were something so trivial. But you must understand, Kurosaki, that this new life you have taken on will only lead to disaster if you continue on as you are.” 

His head tilted slightly, smile faltering a bit. “You… you do understand that, correct?”

Glancing at Grimmjow, Ichigo hesitated. “But I never wanted this ,” he said. “Your… followers bit me. They made me like this against my will. I don’t want to abandon everything I’ve built in my life so far,” he stammered, hands trailing up his arms as he self-soothed. 

“And so far, the only person who’s actually given me a proper introduction to being a lycan is a vampire.” A small, nervous chuckle escaped his lips, gesturing towards Grimmjow briefly. “Don’t you think that’s a bit ironic?”

Whatever had remained of Gin’s cheerful disposition had vanished in an instant, his eyes opening further. “And it’s vampires like him who are tasked with killing lycans like us.” He pointed to Grimmjow, accusatory. “Especially Death Dealers. They are specifically trained to kill our kind. And this one? He stole you from our grasp just so he could find out where we were hiding. He has no particular interest in or care for you, Kurosaki.” His eyes shifted, leveling above his arm, sharp and lethal. 

His lips parting, Grimmjow’s sharp teeth lay bare, like a warning. Ya fuckin’ bastard . His mind was racing, trying to find something, anything to fight back. Then a lightbulb went off.

“Then explain this to me, lycan.” He could see Ichigo’s metamorphosing expression, feeling his heart sink. “Why the fuck’re a bunch of lycans, who’re so damn desperate to stay out of sight, stalking a human just to turn him? I ain’t never heard of that happenin’ before. Seems to me ya got something nefarious up yer sleeves.” He desperately wanted to raise his pistols and put a silver round between Gin’s smug blue eyes, but he kept himself composed.

The question seemed to stun Gin ever so slightly. His eyes closing, his hand dropped, tongue trailing over his teeth as he thought about how to answer the question. “Is that really why you kept the boy alive all this time? Truly?”

“Just answer the question, wolfy,” Grimmjow growled.

Looking between the pair, Gin remained silent for several minutes.

Growing tired of waiting, Grimmjow raised a pistol, aiming it for the side of Ichigo’s head. “I ain’t got all day,” he hissed. “I could just kill yer new play thing right here’n now and call it quits. Yer games ain’t that amusin’.”

Ichigo’s body tensed, his eyes going wide. He looked genuinely hurt, angling away, but afraid to move any further. “H-hey, what the — ?!”  

“Mmmm, you could try,” Gin said, shrugging his shoulders, “but I know that you won’t.”

His jaw tightening, Grimmjow took a step forward, haunches rising. “And why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

“Two reasons, really.” Lifting his hand again, Gin raised a finger. “One, you’ve gotten a bit attached to the kid, right? I can see it in the way you panicked once I explained who you really were to him.”

Grimmjow couldn’t meet Ichigo’s gaze, his face going a bit warm.

“And two? Well, even if the first reason weren’t true, the very question would remain burned in your mind: why would the ruler of the lycans risk life and limb just for some random human on the street? Hmm?”

“Yer enjoyin’ yerself way too much.”

“And it’s just like a vampire to hate fun, isn’t it?” Sighing, Gin shrugged. “Fine. Why not tell you, since you’re so invested? Perhaps… it could work out well after all.” His grin returned, a bit of mischief etched in between his lips.

Lowering the pistol, Grimmjow let it rest at his side, leaning against the hood of the car. “I’m all ears, wolfy. Let’s have it.”

Ichigo, wary and unsure of what to do exactly, drew close enough to join him, hovering by the edge of the car. He spared a final glance in Grimmjow’s direction, his brown eyes filled with distrust.

Satisfied, Gin folded his arms over his chest, long silver hair shifting along his shoulders. “Tell me, both of you, are you familiar with the Black Plague?”

The pair each gave Gin a look of uncertainty. “You’re referring to the one that killed nearly a third of Europeans, right?” Ichigo asked.

Gin’s face lit up. “Yes, the very same. And what a tragedy it was, surely. But I’m sure humans don’t quite remember it the way that vampires and lycans do. Something I believe we have to thank the vampire Elders for.” He paused, his lips curling a bit.

“While it is true that this plague began with the unclean and deplorable streets of Europe, combined with the rats that infested it, its effects were far stranger than death,” Gin continued. “Many of those people did die, but at a certain point there was a mutation, as it goes with most plagues. And it began with one man in particular, a nobody by the name of Michael Corvinus. He had been infected with the plague, his body ravaged by it, but he somehow survived. A stubborn bastard to want to live through something so debilitating, if you ask me.”

“The plague eventually reached its climax, deaths trickling down within four years, leaving Europe in complete devastation. Michael Corvinus had children not long after his recovery, bearing two sons. And it is with these two sons that his sickness lay dormant, twisting their very beings.”

“Yer talkin’ about the First Ancestors,” Grimmjow interrupted. “I know this story, what’s yer point in beatin’ round the bush?”

Gesturing towards the Death Dealer, Gin nodded. “Correct. Both lycan and vampire know of the two brothers. The eldest son, bitten by a bat, and the youngest, bitten by a wolf, forging the two warring factions.” He smiled again. “The first vampire and the first Werewolf to walk the earth. But I am certain that your Elders failed to teach you the whole truth.” Leaning forward, Gin’s eyes split open once more. “Especially your ever-loved Lord Aizen.”

A shiver went down Grimmjow’s spine, as if the uttering of the name alone held power.

“He was not the first of your kind, surely, but he was always the most respected.” Gin spat, his expression twisting into mockery and defiance. “But to me he will always remain a cowardly, spineless leech, even on your kind, Death Dealer.”

“I asked for an explanation,” Grimmjow shot back, “not yer damn commentary on the Elders.”

Waving his hand dismissively, Gin continued, “Yes, yes, of course. And as I explained, these two brothers were susceptible to these transformations thanks to their father, the original Ancestor. It is the Corvinus blood that links us, both lycan and vampire. It is the purest blood, our life source. And, by default, we are always drawn to it.” He paused, nodding in Ichigo’s direction. “And that blood flows through Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Grimmjow felt his body go numb, his eyes growing wide. He turned his head quickly, looking at Ichigo with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “Wait… what?”

Ichigo was just as confused, his brow furrowing as he met Grimmjow’s stare. “I…huh?”

“Oh, come now, Death Dealer!” Gin chided. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t tell that your companion didn’t intrigue you even a little. I mean, you could practically smell his blood, the sweetness of it.” He leaned forward, his grin lecherous. “You were tempted to sink your teeth into his thin little neck just to get a taste, weren’t you? It took every bit of restraint you had not to.” He paused, practically beaming now. 

“Or… perhaps you wanted more from him, hmm?”

His face so hot it burned to the touch, Grimmjow stood up, teeth bared in a growl. “Shut yer trap, wolfy!”

“Don’t get yourself in a twist,” Gin admonished, not at all fazed by the display Grimmjow had put on. “I’m practically holding myself back. Both of our kinds are helpless when it comes to a pureblooded Corvinus ancestor. But they are just so hard to come by, that’s for sure.”

Clearing his throat, Ichigo jumped in. “So, if what you say is true,” he began, speaking slowly. “If I really do have this Corvinus blood running through me, like you say, then what is it you want from me?”

“A good question, boy, and one I can answer simply.” Gin placed a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder, much to Grimmjow’s discomfort, squeezing slightly as he drew closer. “I’m going to use you to dissolve the vampires’ stranglehold on our vast underworld, thus ending our centuries long war with them.”

“By turnin’ him into a lycan?” Grimmjow challenged.

Gin laughed. “Oh, no. Did you not catch what I said earlier?” He raised his other hand, pointing upward. “Corvinus blood has made his ancestors susceptible to lycan or Vampiric transformation. And because it is so pure, he could provide us with the next step of evolution: a hybrid, if you will. Impervious to silver and to sunlight.” His clawed fingers traced up from Ichigo’s shoulder, along his neck and to the underside of his jaw. “The perfect weapon against the vampires, at last. I’ve searched for one like you for centuries, and here you are.”

A hybrid … Grimmjow’s blood ran cold, nearly dropping his pistols. “An abomination,” he muttered, staring at the ground as his mind raced.

“That is what Aizen would have called it as well,” Gin said, his voice taking on a slight tone of bitterness. “He always feared a possible merging of the two races, knowing that it could undermine his iron rule. And when he was alive, he made sure it never came to pass. But, perhaps, we may have the chance to flip everything on its head after all.” His gaze turned to Grimmjow now, his expression serious. 

 “He’s already halfway there,” Grimmjow said. “Ya just need a…” Looking up, he had put all the pieces together. “I ain’t doin’ it.”

Gin sighed. “I’m afraid ya ain’t got much of a choice, Death Dealer.”

“Are ya threatenin’ me?”

“No, because I don’t have to.” The lycan let go of Ichigo, approaching Grimmjow now. “You’re being chased down by your own kind, no doubt. They’ve learned that he’s been turned into a lycan and are going to be here soon. You can only do so much to protect him before they riddle him so full of silver there’ll hardly be any bone left in his body.”

The thought turned Grimmjow’s stomach, his grimace extending as he looked up, seeing Ichigo’s frightened face. Dammit , he thought. He’s right .

“Even if you’re the best Death Dealer that Aizen has employed in his ranks, you know they’ll catch up eventually,” Gin continued. “So why not change him while you have the chance?”

Fuck . Swallowing back the waves of fear and uncertainty, he knew that Gin was right. And once I do it, there ain’t no goin’ back. No more goin’ home. Not that there was much for me there, anyways. He inhaled, Ichigo’s scent overpowering him once more. Perhaps that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Fine,” Grimmjow said at last. “But don’t think that — ”

He could barely hear it, that small, single silver bullet that tore through the air. It was too late to do anything once Grimmjow realized it was there, ripping through the back of Ichigo’s left shoulder and puncturing through, hitting Gin in the spine. Ichigo’s cry of pain split the air in two, just enough to register in Grimmjow’s brain that this was really happening. It was followed by a second, a third, and a fourth, the world slowing down unbearably.

Ichigo had almost hit the ground by the time Grimmjow reached him, dragging him out of the line of fire and behind the car for cover. “Fuck!” 

Blood spilled out of Ichigo’s back and onto his hands, his head spinning. Tears were spilling down Ichigo’s cheeks as he cried out. The silver was expanding, tearing through his muscles and flesh as it reacted to his body. “Hang on, Kurosaki!” he screamed, holding him close, trying to reach in and grab the bullets, but it was no use. They were already dissolving into his skin.

“You… need to do it now.” Gin’s weak voice carried from under the car, his body shifting as he struggled to stand. “If you don’t… he… he won’t last much longer…”

Ichigo’s hand gripped Grimmjow’s arm, his eyes wide in pain and fear. “Gr-Grimm…” He writhed as each second passed, leaving Grimmjow no choice. The smell of his blood had overwhelmed it to the point of no return.

Fangs extending and blue eyes glowing, Grimmjow lifted Ichigo up, sinking his fangs into his neck.

It was indescribable. Normally, lycan blood would taste foul, mangy, inedible. But this was beyond anything Grimmjow had ever tasted. It was sweet and rich, flowing easily through his teeth and coating his throat. He gripped Ichigo, his hand digging in. 

It’s time to stop, he told himself. Yer gonna drain him at this rate . Nearly yanking himself away, Grimmjow lifted his head, lapping away at the blood that dripped down his chin.

As his head cleared, he looked down at Ichigo’s motionless body, the wounds on his body still bleeding. Oh no . His heart sank, eyes darting. No, no, no, I was… too late.

“We know you’re theeeeeere, Grimmjow!” Granz’s voice filtered through the chilled air, causing Grimmjow to snarl, teeth still extended. His laughter could be heard echoing in the distance as the wheel of his Tommy gun clicked, casually rounding the car.

“I sure hope your little joy ride with the human was worth it,” Granz continued, his golden eyes peering out from behind his bone-white glasses, “because it’s cost you everything.”

Reaching for his own pistols, Grimmjow rose up, rage pulsing through his body. He couldn’t see Gin’s body anywhere, a small pool of dark blood left behind. “So, Tosen sent yer ass after me instead of Ulquiorra, huh?” he growled. “Must’ve really gotten under that asshole’s skin.”

“I am here as well.” Ulquiorra’s cool, even voice came from behind. “I requested assistance for this take down.”

Pointing his pistols in either direction, Grimmjow laughed. “Aw, too afraid to take me down on yer own, ya bastard?”

“No, just not stupid.” Green eyes looked down at Ichigo’s unmoving body. “Although, it seems we took care of the human threat well enough.”

“Now it’s just me, right?” Grimmjow’s chest heaved, his eyes glimmering with hatred. “Ya gonna kill me and take my head to Tosen, or what’s the deal on this mission?”

Snickering, Granz replied, “We were instructed to bring you in alive, believe it or not. It would seem that you are still a… valued asset to Lord Aizen’s army.” He shrugged. “How that would be is beyond me, but unlike you, we aren’t one to disobey orders.”

Laughing darkly, Grimmjow looked back at the pink-haired Death Dealer. “Bullshit,” he shouted. “You’ve disobeyed plenty of fuckin’ orders in our time together, Granz.”

“Sure, but not in plain sight like you did.”

“It does not matter now,” Ulquiorra interjected. “You are to come with us, and we are to bring you directly to Lord Tosen, where you will answer for your willful indiscretion. Resist, and we will be forced to take drastic measures.”

Taking a deep breath, Grimmjow closed his eyes for a moment. Never in all of his time as a vampire, did he dream of something like this ever occurring. After centuries of the same, unending cycle of missions and unquestioning loyalty, it never occurred to him that he would, in less than twenty-four hours, betray everything he had once stood for. And it was even more curious to him that it felt so good doing it.

“Then I guess we ain’t doin’ this the easy way, are we, ya dick suckin’ prick?”

Two things happened at once as the world slowed around him. The first was both Granz and Ulquiorra pulling the trigger, a bright flash going off as their bullets exited their chambers. And the second was something much faster, something that came from below that barely registered in Grimmjow’s line of sight.

Bright, white strands of hair shimmered like moonlight as they moved, drawing Grimmjow’s attention for a split second. White, long hair that trailed down a blood-stained back, hunched over as it prepared for battle. Grimmjow looked down, seeing that Ichigo was no longer where had been . Did… it work?!  

His head ducked down as the bullet passed over him, singing the tips of his blue hair. Is that stupid kid back on his feet already? Holy shit! The thought passed through him like a bolt of electricity, pulling his pistols forward and firing in Granz’s direction.

Both bullets had lodged themselves into Ichigo’s skin, burying deep as the flesh covered over them in a quick heal. Golden eyes shimmered in a bed of black sclera, sizing up Ulquiorra hungrily. Saliva dripped from needle-sharp teeth, which parted as he let loose a gut-wrenching roar. A blue tongue waggled, warm spittle flying as he dared Ulquiorra to approach. Despite his own confusion, Ulquiorra moved quickly, firing more rounds into the resurrected former human’s chest, jumping out of the way as Ichigo lunged. He said nothing as Ichigo kept his pace, effortlessly absorbing the bullets into his torso, the pain only spurring him forward.

“You reek of lycan,” Ulquiorra said calmly, “but your body does not react to silver. And those teeth…” He dodged a large paw that aimed to wipe his head clean off his shoulders, sliding underneath Ichigo’s splayed stance. “I do not know what Grimmjow has done to you, but I am certain the Elders would prefer that you were wiped from existence.”

Ichigo roared in response, reaching for Ulquiorra once again as he leapt from the car and onto the asphalt. He held the Death Dealer in his grasp, who pulled the trigger once more, only to find the chamber empty. In that split second of realization, Ulquiorra’s eyes widened, watching as Ichigo’s jaws came closer, effortlessly wrapping around his face and snapping down with a deep, horrifying crunch.

“I must say, Grimmjow,” Granz shouted, avoiding the onslaught of bullets Grimmjow fired, “I never anticipated that you would stoop so low as to flat out betray the Elder’s wishes.” He reached back, firing a quick round before launching himself up onto a window sill, staring down at his pursuer. “I mean, I knew you were one of the more spontaneous and unpredictable Death Dealers, but capable of defection?”

The bullets hit the sidewalk, leaving grooves behind. Grimmjow scaled the building with ease, firing continuously as Granz dodged, leaping off the edge of the room and plummeting downward, knocking Grimmjow down as he went. Black spots filled Grimmjow’s vision as he hit the pavement, pain wracking his body. He barely registered the cold muzzle of Granz’s gun digging into his forehead.

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to do this, if I’m going to be honest.” Granz’s face went double as Grimmjow opened his eyes, seeing his crazed grin. “Your smug, over-confident ass always got in my way. Now maybe I can get a little more recognition for my work once you’re gone. I’ll even say it was an accident, because you were such a damn — ”

By the time Grimmjow realized what had happened, dark blood had splashed over him, coating his face and leather suit almost entirely. Granz’s gun had fired, the bullet hitting one of the tires of the car, air hissing out. Grimmjow sat up, groaning in pain as he looked over to see just what had become of Granz, realizing that, perhaps, that crimson smear and various indiscernible pile of viscera had to be all that was left.

Blood stained Ichigo’s clawed hands, his distended nostrils flaring as he tore into Granz’s body, making worryingly quick work with what was left. He didn’t acknowledge Grimmjow as he stood up, cautiously approaching him.

“Do you see?”

Gin’s voice startled the remaining Death Dealer, who twirled on his heels to see the mostly healed lycan standing behind him. “Isn’t he magnificent? A true terror for all vampire kind.” Gin was beaming, flakes of blood falling away from his lips as he coughed. “I’m… I’m not sure what I should say to you, Death — ”

“Grimmjow.”

Pausing, Gin looked at Grimmjow, his eyes opened in slits. “Stop callin’ me Death Dealer,” Grimmjow muttered, turning his attention back to Ichigo. “It’s annoyin’. And don’t say anythin’. I didn’t do it for you, after all.”

“Of course, of course!” Daring to pat Grimmjow on the shoulder, Gin pushed past him and made his way to the now-full Ichigo. “We all know why you did it, my friend. And I’m sure you two were more than made for each other.” He crouched down, lifting Ichigo’s head and peering into his fiery golden eyes. “Together, you will be Aizen’s very undoing. I’m sure of it.” Gin’s voice was soft, his smile genuine now.

Pulling Ichigo away, Grimmjow glared at the lycan. “Yeah, yeah, shut up.”

The white hair began to recede into short, orange spikes once again, golden eyes turning light brown. The transformation faded, leaving a dazed Ichigo in Grimmjow’s arms, dark blood still dripping down his chin as he muttered to himself.

“Oi, kid.” Grimmjow patted Ichigo’s face gently. “Snap out of it already, will ya?”

“Mmmph.” Ichigo pushed his hands away, wincing at the sound of his voice. “ Shhhtop it, I’m up .” His voice slurred a bit, his eyes drifting in and out. Then, after a moment, they refocused, turning to Grimmjow. “No hitting. I already feel like I got hit by a bus.”

Letting out a subconscious sigh of relief, Grimmjow’s head dropped for a second. “Jesus christ, kid. Ya smell foul.” That was only partly true, as Ichigo’s scent had only grown far more overwhelming than before, making it hard to stay away. But the smell of vampire blood on his breath was revolting, to say the least.

“And you look foul,” Ichigo retorted, wiping his mouth. He paused for a moment, looking between Gin and Grimmjow before asking, “You’re not gonna put a bullet in my head for real this time, are you?”

Laughing raucously, Grimmjow shook his head, his lips splitting into a side smirk. “Nah,” he said, reaching down and lifting Ichigo to his feet. “Not unless ya ask anymore stupid questions like that.”

“Th-that wasn’t even stupid! You threatened to shoot me earlier!”

Before Grimmjow could retort, Gin cut in one last time. “Well, I’m certainly surprised that you did what you did, Death Dealer.” He paused, looking at Ichigo for a moment. “I was almost convinced that you’d let Ichigo die. What changed your mind?”

His lips pressing into a hard line, Grimmjow looked down at the blood-soaked asphalt. “I guess… I never really had much loyalty to my cause as I thought I did.” He shrugged. “It was just somethin’ to pass the time. A cog to fit in. Without bein’ a Death Dealer, everlastin’ life really don’t promise much else.”

Gin’s smile widened. “But now that you’ve got a new toy—”

“Don’t ya dare finish that sentence, wolfy,” Grimmjow hissed. “I’ll still put a bullet in yer head.”

Waving his hands in surrender, Gin backed away. “Well, now that you’ve done it, what will you do now?”

The pair looked at each other, both uncertain what to say.

“I would say I’m concerned that I’m going to flunk out of college because I’m supposed to be studying for finals,” Ichigo said finally, “but finals honestly seem kinda unimportant in the grand scheme of things right now.” He shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t really looking forward to them anyways.”

“And I ain’t got nowhere to be,” Grimmjow added. “So… I guess we’ll play it by ear. Stay out of the way. Figure out our next step.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “What ’bout you, wolfy?”

Turning away, Gin walked towards the car, claws scratching along the surface. “What I’ve been doing this entire time,” he said. “Laying low and waiting for a good moment to strike. And I’ll be keeping an eye on the two of you, certainly.” 

He looked back once, the corner of his smile sharp as ever. “I know the time to strike will be sooner or later. Until then…” Swiftly, Gin leapt out of sight, dashing off into the darkness, leaving the pair alone.

For a moment, all Grimmjow could do was stare at Ichigo, watching him closely. This puny, pathetic, whiny human was far more than ever could have imagined back in that musty station hours ago. He found himself looking at the scar on his neck, where his teeth had sunk in, his jaw aching to wrap itself over his flesh once more. He imagined what it would be like to taste his flesh now that he had awakened whatever it was that had been waiting, to feel his body pressed under…

“Hey.” Startled out of his stupor, Grimmjow blinked, meeting Ichigo’s eyes. “Did you hear anything I just said? You okay?” Ichigo gave him a look, arms crossed over his chest. 

Sighing, Grimmjow reached for his pistols, shoving them into his holsters. “Nope, not a word,” he said. “It all sounded like nonsense, if I’m gonna be honest.” He tried not to look at him, or he’d find himself staring at the bite mark again.

“Where’s our first stop?”

“Find a new car.”

“We’re gonna jack a human car now?”

Grimmjow glared at him. “Ain’t no vampire cars around here, are there?” he said, his voice a bit less harsh than it had been before. “Come on, beats walkin’ for a ways.” His hand pressed into Ichigo’s back, guiding him alongside. “Plus, we’ll figure out where we need to go a lot faster. Ain’t no one gonna catch us.”

Ichigo smiled, shaking his head as he followed Grimmjow. “Whatever you say, man.”

Notes:

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed Crux! It's by far one of my favorite works I've created, it was so much fun to write. I watched the first three Underworld films this year and became a little obsessed (and when I'm obsessed with something, it often merges with my other interests lol). Head empty, only thinking of Grimmjow in all leather body suit like Selene :']

If you want, please check me out on Twitterr! I primarily talk about Bleach, scream into the void, and panic because I haven't posted in a hot minute.