Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Darkest Blue	By : Katrinea Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Urahara/Ichigo Views: 4115 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Bleach' and will make no money from writing/posting this fic.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter 15: They Can't Save Us Now
"They can't save us now

'Cause we're lost and won't be found

We can scream so loud

But they can't save us now
How can hearts so young feel so much pain?

They can't ever save us now"

- Kill Hannah
The candles were burning low in the Urahara Shoten that night. The light cast by the dying flames flickering over the two bodies entwined on the bed, dancing across burnished skin. Ichigo yawned contently against the older man's skin as his eyes slipped shut, his consciousness fading in the warmth of his arms as he gave into the lethargy that always gripped his body after the furious rush of lovemaking. Urahara did likewise, a soft smile curling the corners of his lips as he felt Ichigo relax against him, and sinking into the touch of each other's skin they both fell into the darkness of sleep in a matter of minutes.
One of the few candles still burning in the room reached the end of its wick and snuffed itself out with a soft noise as the last remnants of the older man's consciousness drained away, his last hazy thought being that the warm sources of light may no longer be needed to banish Ichigo's night terrors.
At least so long as he was holding him in his arms.

For a moment Ichigo wasn't quite sure what had awoken him. All he knew was that his eyes had snapped open, his body on high alert as though expecting an attack, the way he had used to awaken from each nightmare before he had begun sharing a different bed with a different man. Certainly there was nothing amiss in the fading light of the room, three candles still burning brighter than ever as they seared their way down towards their endings. For a moment he wondered whether he had been woken by thirst or one of the misplaced noises of the night, for he didn't recall having a nightmare, which was perhaps unusual in itself. Then he woke up enough to realise what he was feeling, what had awoken him from his warm slumber. A cold chill that gripped the air, the shiver that latched onto his spine as he realised that all the warmth had drained from the room while he slept.
Another candle reached its end and burned out into the vessel that held it, the soft hiss of its demise sounding much louder than it should have in the darkening room. Ichigo's heart began to race, his mouth suddenly felt dry as a bone and his breath caught in his throat when he tried to swallow.
'You're being ridiculous.' He tried to chastise himself, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he told himself, 'It's the middle of a freezing autumn night, of course it's going to be cold. It's nothing.' But his reassurances did little to still the frantic pace of his heart. Pulling the bed sheets back up over his body he burrowed as far down into the false security of the bed as he could, wrapping himself in the sheets like a child as he snuggled up close to the older man, taking comfort in his presence. Urahara was the sensitive one, if there was anything amiss in the vicinity Ichigo knew that he would be the one sitting up and gazing sharply out into the night, not the young shinigami who was well aware that his own reiatsu sensing skills were about as sharp as a butter knife.
But even the touch of the shopkeeper's pale skin lacked the usual warmth. And the cold air was creeping under the bed sheets now, freezing him to the bone like fear itself and Ichigo knew that he couldn't take it any longer, even if it was just the first chill of the winter creeping its way into the shop he couldn't stand it a moment longer.
'Kisuke…' The words caught in his throat for a moment, escaping in a strangled gasp as he tried to bite back the panic in his gut. 'Kisuke! Wake up!' But he did not.
Now terror started to set in. Urahara was a light sleeper at the best of times, and was intentionally acute to any disturbance in Ichigo's sleeping pattern. At the first sign of distress he would normally be up like a shot, cradling the boy in his arms until the nightmares fled. But now he would not wake up, even when Ichigo started physically tugging at his hand, shaking his shoulders, his voice rising in pitch and panic. Still he slept on, chest rising and falling as though he was in a mere light slumber instead of the sleep of the dead. Ichigo felt the cold air grip his throat like a vice and suddenly it was difficult to breathe.
Falling back upon the bed, he covered his eyes with his hands, screwing his eyelids tightly shut, hoping to any god that this was just another dream, that the cold air invading his space like ghost hands was just a part of the twisted, fucked up imagination of his nightmares. Hoping that any moment Urahara would shake him from this world with his warm hands and gentle smile. But the hands that closed around his wrists were cold and harsh, and the breath that ghosted his neck was as freezing as the night. There was a weight on his chest that had not been there before, something more than just the heavy grip of fear, and someone was pulling his hands away from his eyes, pinning him by his wrists into the bed beneath them. The spell of fear that paralyzed Ichigo's senses was shattered as the third candle burned out with a hiss loud enough to startle his body into trying to move.
His eyes flew open and the terror coiling in his stomach flooded his system with white hot fear as he found himself staring straight into the pits of hell that were unmistakeable as the eyes of Aizen Sosuke.
'Hello pet.'
He couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't think and could barely breathe as the chemicals of sheer panic invaded his body. His bright eyes widened further than was comfortable, his lips frozen, slightly parted as though his last breath had just escaped his body. That face, that terrible face, was so close to his own. Those dark eyes that he had hoped so desperately to never see again were boring into his very soul, consuming what was left of his sanity. He could feel the beat of the traitor's cold blood in the hands that gripped his wrists so tightly, the sickening familiar feeling of the bastard's skin against his own. All he could see was those terrible eyes, everything else seemed to stop, the world fading into oblivion around him as those pits burned deep into him. And then Aizen smirked, a demonic grin splitting the surface of his face, drawing Ichigo's attention away from his eyes. The outside world flooded back, everything stared moving again.
And Ichigo started fighting back. He made a strangled noise of rage, not quite a scream, but more frenzied than a roar, and he pushed up against his captor with all the strength that he could muster. He barely moved an inch. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that to struggle would be futile but it was all he could do, he could no longer bear to sit back and let Aizen do what we wished, if all he could do was struggle and swear and scream and shout then that was what he would do. Aizen raised an amused eyebrow at the struggling, hissing teenager beneath him as he flipped him with a grasp of steel, pushing him face down into the bed, grabbing his arm and twisting it round behind him until he cried out in pain, pinning him using the pressure applied to his arm and the weight of his cold body.
'Is that any way to greet your master?' He hissed into Ichigo's ear, cold breath assaulting his skin as he pressed him roughly down into the bed.
'Fuck you!' Ichigo swore loudly before crying out in pain as his arm was twisted almost to the breaking point.
'Don't tempt me.' The lord purred cruelly as he grasped Ichigo's chin with strong fingers. He chuckled softly in amusement when Ichigo attempted to twist away from his touch, despite the pain that he knew it would be causing him to do so. The harsh smile on his face faded into a grimace of half anger, half mocking pleasure when he realised that the shinigami was not just flinching from his grasp but also moving to gaze pleadingly at the other man lying next to him, still seemingly sleeping peacefully.
'He can't see us pet.' He smirked against the sensitive skin of Ichigo's neck as he gave his arm another sharp tug, feeling his body contort in pain beneath him. 'He can't save you now…' He whispered as his tongue darted out to taste the skin of his neck, savouring the shudder of Ichigo's skin at his touch. 'You're mine.' Ichigo's eyes slid shut as his face contorted in an expression of hopelessness and pain. He choked back the lump in his throat and the frustrated tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as he growled,
'What do you want with me?'
'What do I want… What do you think?' Aizen tangled his fingers in thick, red hair, tugging sharply so that Ichigo's head snapped back and he smothered a cry of pain. 'I want my property back. Someone else has been playing with you, eh pet? I can't allow that.'
'Bastard!' Ichigo grit his teeth against the pain and tried to shut his eyes, but found it nearly impossible to take his eyes off Urahara, knowing full well that this might be the last time he ever got to see that face. The shopkeeper slept on soundly, and Ichigo knew without asking that he would be dreaming in an illusionary world, where even if he awoke the redhead would still be cradled safely and soundly in his arms, where the candles would still be burning bright and the room would be comfortably warm. He never wanted anything more than to be in that world with him, even if everything there was untrue. Even if being held in his arms was a dream he would never want to awake again. But he was awake, and in his cold reality the traitor was hissing in his ear.
'Your human body has been untouched by any but him, correct?' Ichigo's heart leap into his throat at the implication in Aizen's words. 'It is the last thing that you share…' Ichigo found himself flipped onto his back, and those eyes were upon him again as Aizen straddled him, pinning him to the bed by his wrists. He didn't think that it was possible that he could feel any more fear than he did in that moment, but he was quickly proven wrong when the lord smirked, 'I'll take that from you too.'
'No!' Ichigo's protest caught in his throat as his mouth was smothered with freezing lips, a vicious kiss with more teeth than was comfortable, nauseatingly familiar as a cool tongue snaked past his protesting lips, for the first time tasting the physical body of the substitute shinigami.
With little effort the lord forced Ichigo's hands above his head, rough edged illusionary rope appearing from nowhere to bind his wrists to the slatted headboard of the bed. He struggled in vain against the bonds, against the body that pressed down against him, gaining only further pain as the rope twisted and burned, leaving raw, red marks upon his skin. That piercing mouth latched onto his neck again and Ichigo hissed in disgust at the too familiar feeling of sharp teeth scraping his skin, biting into his neck hard enough to bruise, to leave traces of his decay upon the teenager's skin.
'Get off of me!' He bit out a protest as he kicked out, feeling his knee connect ineffectually with Aizen's chest. He was surprised at the speed at which his head snapped to the side with the force of a slap, his skin stinging with pain before he even had time to cry out.
'You seem to have forgotten your training.' Aizen growled as he gripped Ichigo's chin with long fingers, forcing him to look back into those hellish eyes, the pale face split with a sadistic grin. He ran a cold hand along the bare skin of Ichigo's chest, feeling the renewing muscles spasm and contract beneath his fingers, the rough pads of his fingers twisting against the sensitive buds of the younger man's nipples as he leaned in close enough so that his face was within inches of Ichigo's. 'I'll just have to remind you.'
'Stop…' The shinigami had to shut his eyes in the face of those burning dark orbs, writhing uncomfortably beneath the touch, cursing himself for being so weak, for allowing this to happen again. He choked back a gasp that rose in his throat as he felt sharp teeth latch onto his earlobe, applying just the right amount of pressure as the traitor rolled the soft flesh against his tongue. He shivered in disgust as the ex-captain's calloused fingers caressed the insides of his thighs, shutting his eyes tighter than ever as he tried to squirm away from the touch, trying and failing to kick out against the cold body that held him in place. 'No… Please don't do this…' He gasped, pleading now for the torment to stop. The heat burning in his stomach was sickening, the cold weight of the man torturing him with forced desire made bile of disgust rise in his throat and despite himself he wished with all his heart that someone would come along and save him. Torn between wanting the man next to him to help him and hoping desperately that he would not awake, would not witness what was being done to him, to his Ichigo. He never ever wanted Urahara to see him like this, he would rather die than have to face that, to watch the light die in his eyes as he realised that he had failed to protect him. He took on so much for Ichigo's sake and he could not bear the thought of the blonde blaming himself for Ichigo's own weakness.
'Why?' He whimpered, his bravado failing him as cold hands tugged his underwear away, and he realised that nothing he could do would stop what was happening. 'Why are you doing this to me?'
'Because I can, pet.' Aizen stroked his damp cheek mockingly gently as he spoke in that false lover's tone of concern. 'The sooner you accept that, the sooner you give in, the easier this will be on you.' He purred as that icy hand wrapped around Ichigo's manhood, fondling his arousal which was quickly hardening despite his mind's protests to the contrary.
'Never…' Ichigo choked out as he grit his teeth against the cold sensations coming from below his waist, trying and failing to block them out. Trying and failing to remove himself from the situation, to ignore the part of his mind that was screaming at him, to bite back his horror and mortification at the fact that his worst enemy was about to force himself upon him again while the man he loved lay sleeping next to him. 'I'll never give into you!' He spat, the meaningless defiance being all that he could do now.
'And that's why.' Aizen chuckled as he watched a barrage of emotions flicker across Ichigo's face. 'It wouldn't be any fun if you did.' One hand racked fingernails down Ichigo's hips as he stroked him teasingly slow, eliciting strangled gasps that the shinigami did his best to choke back.
'It's just an illusion…' Ichigo muttered to himself, willing his body to break free from the bonds that knew weren't real. 'It's not real… move!' Aizen laughed again, the cruel sound cutting through the cold night air.
'It doesn't matter if your mind is aware that it's not real…' He murmured as he clamped a strong hand over Ichigo's mouth to stifle any protests, slipping the hand that had been stroking the teen round behind him, pressing two fingers against him until they pushed inside and Ichigo's face contorted in fear and pain, cries that he could not control muffled by the hand covering his mouth. Aizen continued speaking as he started to move inside of the shinigami, ignoring the writhing of the body beneath him. 'Because your fear keeps you from even hoping to stand on equal ground with me.' He used his fingers to stretch him open until he was satisfied, withdrawing both the fingers from his body and the hand from over his mouth. 'You're scared of me…' He purred as he started removing his clothes, the fear flooding Ichigo's system strangling his vocal cords as he watched the unfolding scene in horror, knowing that even if he could scream it would not change a thing. The traitor's eyes burned furiously as he pushed Ichigo's legs apart and gripped his hips in a bruising grasp, grinning coldly as he purred, 'And you should be.'
Ichigo remembered how to scream then. A heartfelt cry of horror and pain as Aizen pushed roughly into him, the sickening feeling of being so full and torn sending a spasm of pain to rip through his body as he started to move harshly into the fragile body of the substitute shinigami.
'Why do you think I put so much energy into destroying you?' Aizen hissed as he thrust deeper, harder into the unprepared boy. 'A whole spirit can never become a demon, in order to make you hollow I first had to rip away all traces of hope, of love. But you are far too resistant. No more…' His dark eyes flickered to the sleeping figure next to them, drawing Ichigo's attention to his lover as he purred sadistically, 'If I kill Kisuke Urahara will you finally submit to me?'
'No…!' Ichigo couldn't breathe, that terrible threat stealing the very air from his lungs more than the heavy body pressing down upon him, more than the pain shooting up his spine and the disgust that drowned his veins along with the occasional cruel burst of the pleasure that flickered through the torment. He couldn't find any breath with which to retort except to gasp as he writhed in a mix of agony and desire, tears blurring his vision as he choked on his begging tongue. 'Please… I'll do anything, just don't...'
'Make your choice.' Aizen smirked viciously as his thrusts became harder and faster, moving with an intensity that made Ichigo arch his back into the bed in pain, biting his lip to keep himself from crying out at the rough treatment. He could feel warm blood dripping down his legs, onto the bedsheets, coating Aizen's shaft to give much needed lubrication as he slammed deeply into the teenager, striking that bundle of nerves that sent fire shooting through Ichigo's veins and fuelled the heat pooling in his stomach. Ichigo couldn't hold back the cries that turned to moans as his traitorous, masochistic body found a way of feeling ecstasy through the pain. He shut his eyes against the truth of reality, wishing and wishing for the torment to be over. Aizen frowned as the boy turned his sight from him, responding by pulling nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward sharply, gaining another pained cry from the shinigami beneath him as frightened brown eyes snapped open. Before he could even catch a breath the traitor was moving harshly again, hitting that spot inside him that made fire explode inside his stomach, those sharp teeth scraping his neck and Ichigo knew that if Aizen kept this up he would lose himself, just go insane and fall deeper back into that black pit, never to return.
The light went out in his eyes. And then it was over. Ichigo sobbed out half smothered moans as he felt the traitor thrust into him one final time, shuddering in disgust at the hot burn of thick fluid filling him. His body was wound like a spring, and as Aizen pulled out he couldn't help but whimper, his skin trembling violently. The ex-captain grinned cruelly at him as he felt the boy's body shudder at the loss of the dreadful friction and he took advantage of Ichigo's dazed state to capture his lips in another bruising mockery of a kiss. Ichigo couldn't even find the strength to protest, and when Aizen pulled back he smirked at the expression on his face, his eyes wide and dull, cheeks marked with tear tracks, his mouth and neck thoroughly bruised from the harsh treatment.
'Well pet?' He murmured as he cradled Ichigo's face in his hands, mocking hands wiping the drying tears from his face. 'Are you going to continue to misbehave…' His eyes flickered momentarily to Urahara, still sleeping unknowingly in the bed beside them and Ichigo understood the dark meaning in that gesture. 'Or are you going to come along with me like a good boy?'
'I…' Ichigo tried not to choke on his words, on his own betrayal. 'I'll cooperate. Just leave him, leave them all, out of this.' This was the only way to make sure that Urahara was safe; he knew all along that Aizen would never let him go, never let him be with his loved ones again. But he could bear it, he had done it before and he would do it again if it would keep them safe. But his heart hurt more dreadfully than before and he had to blink back furious tears that prickled in the corners of his eyes.
'That's a good boy.' Aizen rose from the bed, swiftly pulling his robes back around his cold form. 'There's just one last thing to take care of.' He turned, suddenly fully clothed again, and touched his hand to Ichigo's chest, pressing his fingers against the skin hard enough to bruise, more than hard enough to cause pain. Then suddenly his fingers pushed into his chest, past his skin and bones to reach right into his body cavity. Ichigo cried out as he waited for the pain of being penetrated by his fingers to register, but the agony did not come. Instead Aizen's hand passed through his flesh and grabbed onto something deep inside of him. And then he felt the pain, the ache of having his soul ripped forcefully from his body. Ichigo's consciousness was transferred to his spirit form as he fell upon the floor, tossed there uncaringly by the cruel lord. He struggled into a sitting position to see what was going on upon the bed, but found it difficult even to move so slightly. For a moment he registered the fact that he was now fully clothed in his robes, and though he was grateful for that small mercy, he was further panicked by the notable absence of Zangetsu.
From his weary position on the floor he could do little but watch as Aizen brushed his fingers against the blade of his zanpakutō, muttering something unintelligible as he did so. Ichigo's confusion only lasted for a second, horrific realisation setting in as his corporal body began to bleed. Aizen had opened up a wide gash in his chest, and now his body was leaking crimson life upon the white of the bed sheets, pooling on the floor and dripping upon the pale skin of the sleeping shopkeeper.
'What did you do to me?' He gasped, his mind reeling as he watched what seemed to be his own death. He'd never seen so much blood…
'Just a little smokescreen my pet.' Aizen turned to smile strangely at him, rising swiftly from the bed to keep the crimson from staining his white robes.
'Am I… dead?' Ichigo felt strangely numb, as though all the fear that his body was capable of producing had already been burned up, leaving him in the smouldering embers of emotional limbo as he stared at his dead body.
'Of course not,' Aizen looked at him like he was an idiot. 'That would severely inconvenience both you and I. This is merely a little surprise for your partner to find when he awakes, something to keep your friends distracted from any more little rescue attempts.'
'…They'll think I'm dead.' Realisation began to sink in. 'My friends, my family…' Ichigo whispered dazedly, unable to tear his eyes away from the red leaking from the gashes in his skin.
'Oh come now pet.' Aizen almost tutted at the stunned redhead on the ground. 'For all intents and purposes, you will be dead.' He knelt down beside Ichigo, running his fingers through the burnt orange of his hair, smiling maliciously as he spoke. 'At least you will be once I'm through with you.' Ichigo just blinked at him, weariness heavy on his face. He suddenly felt so tired, too drained to struggle any further, too weak to fight, like a bird with a broken wing waiting for death he shut his eyes to quell the tears that came with the cruel acceptance of his fate. Aizen stood suddenly, pulling Ichigo up by his arm to stand upon shaky legs. 'Now come along,' he muttered, 'time is precious now… the hour is drawing near.' Ichigo didn't even want to ask what Aizen mean by that last remark, knowing that even if he did he was hardly likely to receive an answer.
'At least let me… say goodbye.' He muttered, casting his eyes down towards the floor, unable to bring himself to look at Aizen, the illusion of his dead body and least of all at the blonde shopkeeper still sleeping peacefully upon blood stained sheets.
'Quickly now,' Aizen sighed, a curious expression on his face, 'before you force me to drag you from here by your hair.' His face twisted into another of those cruel mocking smiles as he touched Ichigo's cheek, gently turning his head up to face him. 'But we're past that stage now aren't we?'
'Yes… Aizen-sama.' Ichigo muttered, the familiar cold, dead light creeping back into the eyes that had only just begun to shine so brightly once again.
'Good boy.' The ex-captain smirked as he released his grasp of Ichigo's face. 'Now make it quick.'
Standing over the sleeping man upon the bed Ichigo could feel his heart crack and shatter like ice. The cold that enveloped the room crept underneath his skin, icing over his bones and freezing his lifeblood, reaching the frail organ of his heart and enveloping it with frost. His lover looked so peaceful, so content as he slept on in the dream world where Ichigo was curled up beside him and they were happy and content in the warmth of unspoken love. His pale hair fell down across his paler skin, thick eyelashes barely fluttering above the slight dark circles that marked the half circles beneath his eyes. There were small flecks of blood on his cheek, dark red droplets marking the perfect curve of his cheekbone underneath flawless skin. He was sure that that image would forever be etched into his mind, the harmony of his features haunting him for as long as he had left to live.
Ichigo ran the pads of his fingers gently across his lover's stubble peppered jawline, his skin trembling at the touch. His cold lips were bruised and bloody as they melted against the warm softness of the shopkeeper for the last time, lips parting in a whisper as they pressed so lightly against Urahara's.
'I think I always loved you. I'm sorry.' This time Ichigo did not choke on his words, did not betray the blade piercing the shard of ice that was his heart with every spoken word. And as he lifted his head the tears did not spill from his eyes because his teeth were digging into his bottom lip hard enough to bring forth fresh blood and his nails bit into the rough skin of his palms to leave little red welts in the skin.
'How touching.' Aizen sneered as he came up silently behind Ichigo, fisting his hand in red hair. 'Remember his face, because you're never going to see it again.' He hissed viciously in the shinigami's ear.
Ichigo closed his eyes softly, knowing that there was no way he could ever forget.
It was the noise that made his eyes snap open again, that unforgettable sound of space and the dimensions ripping in two. The garganta opened its gaping mouth before them, so large that it threatened to swallow the entirety of the small bedroom.
Ichigo couldn't have struggled if he'd tried. Aizen grasped his arm with a steel grip, pulling him into the mouth of the devil's den without so much as a backward glance at the scene that he had left in what had previously been a warm, happy little bedroom. But Ichigo couldn't do anything but look back in agony at the life that he was leaving behind, his eyes and mind desperately capturing every detail of the cruel image as he was pulled back into hell. As the gaping maw closed around him so did the last flickering flame of hope that he held in his soul burn out as the blackness of eternal night closed in once again.
In the darkness, his heart died, and all he could feel was that cold, bruising grip on his arm.
And back in the bedroom of the Urahara Shoten, the spell was broken.
The atmosphere burst like a bubble, cold air flooding the room as the illusion was dispelled and the last candle flickered desperately and extinguished. Urahara sat bolt upright in the bed, his senses tingling like an electric shock, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention as a horror of unknown origins swirled in the pit of his stomach. The room was dark, too dark, and as cold as an icebox. He could smell blood in the air, could taste it faintly upon his lips, and something else, the smell of sweat and fear.
The bed sheets were damp with thick, warm fluid.
At once he realised what had awoken him, his heart sinking so deep in his stomach that it would never again return. Ichigo's presence had disappeared, and left in the cold, darkness of the room was only an overwhelming trace of the bright shinigami, intermingled horribly with the darker, more terrible stain of a reiatsu that Urahara had hoped never to feel again.
The taste of blood lingered upon his lips.
With a shaking hand he groped for the lamp at the side of the bed, touching fingers to his lips as he whispered fearfully into the stillness of the room, asking a hesitant question that would forever go unanswered.
'Ichigo…?'
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