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Underneath It All	By : Raceysama Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 4160 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, any of the songs mentioned are not my own, nor do I make any profit from these works......

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
CHAPTER 19: MY LIFE WOULD SUCK WITHOUT YOU
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXOXO
People say "no regrets" and "guilt only causes stress" all the time, but regret and guilt are involuntary emotions.
XOXOXOXO
Karakura Town
December 2008
"Why won't you kiss me, Shiro?"
Shirosaki scoffed, turning to face the voluptuous blonde propped against the headboard of the motel room bed. She was wearing what some would call a sexy pout, but to Shiro, it made her look like a fucking brat.
Was she fucking serious?
"Are ya fuckin' serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she returned, rather seriously.
Shiro rose from his perch on the side of the bed, strolled to a chair situated in the corner of the room, where he'd tossed his jeans, and reached into the pocket for his pack of smokes. After withdrawing the pack and his lighter, then shaking free a cigarette, he moved to the window, cracking it a bit before lighting up. He took a long pull and exhaled before turning to the blonde once more.
Her brows were furrowed with lust, confusion and anger, and Shiro found the sight to be hilarious. He was still stark naked after their little romp between the scratchy motel sheets, and it was obvious that she had been admiring his body.
He knew he looked good. Hell, he'd never been accused of being modest. He was 6 feet even and 150 lbs.; quite frankly, the sexiest albino alive. From his ash-white hair, pale skin, and inverted eyes to the sixteen tattoos covering different sections of his muscular body, he looked good enough to eat.
"I don't kiss bitches. Look, don't start thinkin' I actually like ya. Yer an ok screw, but what ya lack in the sack, ya make up with yer hefty bank account," he explained callously.
Clear green eyes filled with hostility as the bedsheets were thrown back, revealing a curvy form. She surged from the bed and stalked to the tiny bathroom, pausing at the door, "Fuck you, Shirosaki!"
Shiro cackled loudly, "Jeez, Hal, yer so needy."
The bathroom door slammed shut, and seconds later the shower squeaked to life. Shiro turned to study the movement outside the motel room, knowing that last night had been the last time he would fuck the buxom blonde, Halibel. Truthfully, he had completely lost interest in her after the first time they'd screwed, but she was rich, and had given him an offer he hadn't been able to refuse.
Finishing the cigarette, he flicked the butt through the cracked window and sauntered over to his clothes, quickly dressing himself. After grabbing the large, brown paper bag filled with yen from a small, round table, he gave the bathroom door a mock salute and left the motel room. On the way to his car, he thought about what had happened the day before.
Halibel had asked him to kill an orange-haired kid named Ichigo Kurosaki a while back. He hadn't asked her why, figuring it was none of his business to begin with, and she hadn't offered any reasons for her request either. Shiro hadn't hesitated after hearing the price she was willing to pay, and had gone about doing the job.
Hal had given him two million yen before-hand as incentive, with the promise of another two million yen once the job was done. Shiro hadn't needed to be told twice.
Hal had also made the job a lot easier by providing him with all the information he'd needed about the target, and after scoping the guy out for about a week, he'd finally found the perfect opportunity to strike. And strike he had. Shiro had hidden in the shadows of the boy's apartment building, where no one had been paying attention, and shot the orange-haired kid in the chest.
The kid wouldn't be able to survive a shot like that.
XOXOXOXO
Karakura Town
December 2008
"N-Nii-sama...w-wha-" Rukia started, thoroughly baffled at the strange turn of events that caused her older brother to appear at her motel room.
Byakuya Kuchiki didn't say a word. He only stared at her, through her, making her feel like he was assessing her very soul. His giant companion moved silently into the room, positioning himself in front of the door and folding his thick arms across his wide chest.
Rukia swallowed convulsively. The silence was more intimidating, more frightening than anything her raven-haired brother could have said, and it made her shift uneasily.
Why was Nii-sama there?
Byakuya continued to stare, eyes hardening with each passing second, sending bitter bile leaping to Rukia's throat. Finally, the stoic man spoke, eyes never leaving hers, "Did you think I was unaware of your actions, Rukia?"
She flinched drastically and took a few steps backwards, eyes widening with fear, as panic knocked the breath from her lungs.
What the hell?
"Wh-wha-"
Byakuya cut across her sternly, deep baritone voice incredibly cold, "Do you think me an idiot, Rukia? That I would not know that you were stealing from me? How foolish."
Silence hung in the air like dust motes, clinging to every available surface and making the atmosphere ridiculously tense. Her mind was in a frenzy. Thoughts and emotions whirling and ping-ponging around in her brain, probably looking very much like electrons spinning around the protons and neutrons of an atom.
"I-I, I..."
What the hell should she say? Sorry for stealing from you, Nii-sama? Fuck no.
Rukia's face hardened. If she was going to jail, then so be it. She wasn't about to apologize or become some sniveling coward, no matter how much she wanted to. Her only regret was that she'd been stopped before she could kill that orange-haired bastard that had so thoroughly ruined her life.
She straightened her back and returned her older brother's intense glare, barely resisting the urge to shudder from the immense aura surrounding the man. Byakuya arched a brow and gave an infinitesmal smirk.
"Oh? What is this? Have you finally found a shred of courage?" he taunted, voice a low monotone.
Rukia sneered, "I have more courage than you know, Nii-sama."
Byakuya gave a dry, derisive chuckle that sounded more like a scoff, "Lies."
Rukia bristled angrily as she stepped forward, clenching her hands into tight fists. Just who the fuck did he think he was? Rage overwhelmed her tiny frame, so much so, that she began to shake with it, teeth bared in a feral snarl.
Brother or not, he had no right to ridicule her in such a way, especially not after he threw her out of their home and basically disowned her. He no longer held the right to comment on anything she did, said or even planned to do. Rukia opened her mouth to protest, but Byakuya beat her to the punch.
"Rukia, you are a coward. A lowly coward, blaming your problems on everyone other than yourself. You are slowly self-destructing and I was angry enough to allow you to do so, but now, you're no longer just self-destructing, you're trying to take someone else along with you. I can not - I will not allow you to do such a thing, foolish sister!"
Rukia's eyes widened in astonishment. Byakuya Kuchiki, her infernally stoic, uptight and haughty older brother had lost his cool, actually raising his voice. And over her, no less. What was more, it seemed that he was aware of not only her stealing, if his words were any indication.
How the hell had he found out?
She had no idea what to react to first. She was angry about him calling her a coward, angry that he would presume to know what she'd been through in the past few years, angry that he was judging her, but...she was also in a state of shock.
Had he been worried?
Impossible.
Instead of giving herself away by agreeing to anything Byakuya had just stated, she decided to feel around to figure out exactly what he knew, "What are you talking about?" she asked innocently.
"Do not pretend to be dense!" Byakuya immediately snapped, eyes shining with a fire Rukia had never before witnessed. "This is a serious matter! Have you taken leave of your senses, girl? You-"
"Byakuya."
The deep, stern order had been issued calmly from the huge man standing in front of the room door. His eyes flashed for only a second, but it was enough to stop her brother's incensed rant. Rukia stared at the tall man, wondering what was going through his mind at the moment, and why, for the love of all things holy, he was currently glaring at her.
"Look, kid, we know what ya've been up to. Ya've been rather sloppy with yer tracks and, frankly, I'm surprised ya haven't been arrested yet. Messing around with someone like Shirosaki is dangerous as hell, not ta mention, fuckin' stupid," the man's rumbling voice filled the silent room.
Rukia's eyes widened yet again. Just how much did they know?
As if reading her mind, the giant continued, "We know everything. The fight ya had with yer ex, that red-haired guy, the way ya took off and started sleepin' in the subway, then, how ya bought that gun yer hiding in yer hoodie pocket with the money ya stole from Byakuya from that idiot, Shirosaki. Lastly, ya went and made a deal with the devil ta get 'im ta teach ya how ta shoot the damned thing. Yer gettin' reckless and it's gotta stop."
Rukia was speechless. They really did know EVERYTHING. Well, everything as far as facts were concerned, but they knew nothing of her feelings. Nothing of why exactly she had gone as far as she had. Nothing of her broken heart and ruined dreams. Her ruined life. They knew nothing about THAT. Just as she opened her mouth to tell them so, another thought occurred to her.
"How do you know all of that?" she asked, curiosity overriding her shock and anger.
The man gave her an all-together frightening and menacing grin, teeth appearing serrated and lethal, "I'm a bounty hunter, shorty. Findin' people is my job."
"Wh-wha?" she sputtered, utterly astounded.
A bounty hunter? No fucking way!
"Rukia, it is time you stopped this madness. I will not allow you to destroy yourself over something so foolish." Byakuya stated, his voice no longer raised, but no less stern.
Rukia stared at him in disbelief before suddenly blurting,"F-foolish? FOOLISH? You have NO FUCKING IDEA what I've been through, so don't stand there acting so high and mighty, Nii-sama! You have no idea what it's like to have your heart...ripped out, stomped and then spit on all because of...because of..." her voice trailed off as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Her brother didn't understand and he never would. Her life had been turned upside down and inside out at the hands of one person. Ichigo Kurosaki. He'd stolen the love of her life, then ruined the man, making him shun and reject her AFTER she'd abandoned her friends and family for him. Then Renji left her, only to return to that orange-haired bastard's side. There was no justice in the world, so she had planned to dispense a bit of her own, but now, even that was being destroyed.
It wasn't fair!
Rukia covered her face with her hands and slowly began sinking to the floor, but before she could make contact with the rough carpet, strong arms wrapped around her waist and drew her close to a broad chest. Absolute shock stiffened her muscles as she inhaled a smell that was almost second-nature to her; cinnamon and jasmine tea. Sobs shook her body forcefully as she clung desperately to her older brother's coat.
Why? Why was he doing this? Why did he even care?
"Rukia," Byakuya uttered softly, "I don't understand what you are experiencing, I will admit that, but...I will not let you suffer this alone anymore. I was furious with you when your behavior towards someone gay was revealed. I felt like I had failed in your upbringing, as though somehow it was my fault that you hated homosexuals. I thought you knew about my sexual preference and that that was your way of acting out against it. But...but you are my younger sister, the only family I have left, and I believe it is way past time that we talked."
Rukia sagged against him, but was still unwilling to believe that Byakuya actually cared about her. That he wanted to talk to her. He wanted to...help her.
Preposterous.
"But you hate me," she whimpered into the folds of his coat.
Byakuya stiffened slightly, then just as quickly his muscles relaxed, "That is not true. I was angry with you."
"You've never hugged me like this. Y-you've never spoken kindly to me; you were always so cold and distant. I find it hard to believe that you don't hate me, especially after...after..." again her voice trailed off, as words failed her and her throat clogged with an unfamiliar emotion.
"Do you think I blame you for making a mistake? Of course, I reacted rather irrationally, but we are all human and thus prone to imperfect behavior," Byakuya explained. "Come home, Rukia. We will sort this through."
She continued to lean against her brother's chest, soaking up the warmth and comfort he was uncharacteristically offering. What should she do? Hell, what could she do? Although Nii-sama was offering a truce, she was sure he wouldn't hesitate to drag her, kicking and screaming, from the dingy motel room and back to their home. He'd even brought backup in the form of the giant bounty hunter whose name she still didn't know.
She peeked over at the now grinning man and furrowed her brows, "What's your name?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound gruff, but failing miserably.
"Kenpachi Zaraki. Call me Ken," he answered. She nodded timidly, and stepped out of Byakuya's arms.
"So, wh-what does this mean?" she inquired, still not certain of the situation.
Kenpachi's grin widened and sent chills careening down her back, "It means ya go home and I don't gotta take ya ta the cops," he supplied. "Oh yeah, ya mind handin' that gun a'yers over?"
Rukia blushed and hung her head in shame, as she dug into the large hoodie pocket for the small weapon. Byakuya laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, another unusual act for him. Once she wrapped her hand around the tiny pistol, she quickly withdrew it and passed it to Kenpachi.
Oddly, a wave of relief washed over her and a huge weight fell from her shoulders. She was still angry as hell about what happened with Renji, and Ichigo's involvement with it all, but for now, she would focus on finding herself.
XOXOXOXO
Karakura General Hospital
December 2008
Twelve hours. Twelve ridiculously long and excruciating hours had passed since Ichigo had been brought to the hospital and taken into surgery. Twelve hours with no news, no indications of any progress...nothing.
Grimmjow was losing his fucking mind.
Once the ambulance had arrived, nurses and the paramedics had swept Ichigo away, not allowing him to follow, and forcing him to sit in the waiting room. His chest ached and his heart galloped behind his ribs ruthlessly.
Ichigo.
Ichi.
Fuck.
Grimmjow wanted to be selfish and claim he was in more pain than anyone else, but he couldn't. He glanced over at Isshin and Ichigo's two younger sisters sitting a few seats away. They were huddled together, clinging to the elder Kurosaki with tear tracks on their young faces. Isshin's face was drawn and exhausted, but he kept his composure for the sake of his daughters.
Grimmjow had sent his Pop a text message while he'd still been in the ambulance with Ichigo, and only minutes after being sent to the waiting room, everyone arrived. Isshin had not only invited himself and his Pop over for dinner, but all of his and Ichigo's friends as well. It was to be a really large affair and Grimmjow had been looking forward to it.
Bandana Boy and Yor sat in the corner of the room, beside them sat Hirako and Stark, and beside them Renji and Shuuhei sat leaning against one another, Shuuhei sleeping while Renji stayed awake, face creased with worry. Ichigo's other friends Tatsuki, Inoue, Ishida and Chad were on the opposite side of the waiting room, faces equally solemn.
Grimmjow sat next to his Pop, the older blue-haired man massaging his neck every so often, trying to release the tension gathered there. Alric hadn't looked that worried in a very long time. As a matter of fact, the last time he remembered seeing that expression on his Pop's face was when Grimmjow'd been hit by a car when he was only nine, breaking his right arm.
The waiting room was silent as a chapel and the atmosphere was incredibly tense, fear and worry lacing the air. Grimmjow's clothes were covered with his boyfriend's blood, but he'd refused to go home and change, for fear of missing any news of Ichigo's condition.
He was so scared, so worried. His chest tightened and ached whenever his mind involuntarily supplied him with those frightening images of Ichigo coughing up blood, gasping for breath, and his eyes...
Ichigo's nut-brown eyes had been filled to the brim with terror and tears. Grimmjow wished he could've done something - anything - to ease his lover's pain and fear.
Fuck.
He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. Ichigo didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be fighting for his life, and especially not on a day that was meant for celebration. He didn't deserve not knowing how Grimmjow felt about him.
Shit, he felt awful. Regret consumed him, eating him from the inside out, as guilt nagged at the corners of his mind. All he kept thinking was how he could've done more to prevent Ichigo from being shot. He could've run faster after hearing the gunshots, he could've shielded Ichigo better...something.
And now his Ichi was...
Grimmjow shook his head slightly, refusing to think negatively. He couldn't help it though. All that blood, the location of the wound...Jesus.
Suddenly, a doctor wearing a white lab coat and teal hospital scrubs trudged down the hall towards them. Grimmjow brightened, lifting his head from his hands and silently praying for good news. His Pop placed a large hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as the doctor finally stood before them. Isshin lifted his head, noticed the doctor standing before him and quickly stood, Grimmjow following suit.
"Kurosaki Ichigo's family?" the young man asked softly. His dark eyes seemed sleepy and his dark hair hung just past his ears. He also seemed quite young to be a doctor.
Isshin nodded and took a step forward, "I am Isshin Kurosaki. Ichigo is my son. Please, how is he?"
The doctor sighed and lowered his gaze, making Grimmjow's heart completely stop beating for several seconds, "Kurosaki-san, wh-while Ichigo was in surgery we were able to remove the bullet and repair his lung, but - but he'd lost a lot of blood. H-his heart stopped."
The tiny doctor paused for breath, but within that short space of time, everyone in the waiting room managed to take that last statement the wrong way. Isshin's face paled drastically as his eyes widened, and the lighter-haired Kurosaki twin immediately started weeping, while the dark-haired one rubbed her back comfortingly.
Hirako gasped loudly, mouth hanging open as Stark slipped an arm around his shoulders, and Renji's eyes widened comically as his mouth opened and closed, no words forming. The orange-haired girl named Inoue turned towards the glasses-wearing Ishida, silently crying, while the girl named Tatsuki and the giant named Chad, sat in stunned silence.
Grimmjow, on the other hand, felt like he himself had been shot. He frowned, heart hiccupping behind his ribs as he tried to digest what he'd just heard. Fortunately, the doctor continued before he had a chance to completely go insane.
"We resuscitated him, but the lack of blood as well as lack of oxygen has caused him to fall into a coma. The surgery was a success, but whether Ichigo survives or not will be based solely on him. We can't be sure with these types of situations. He's currently in the ICU (Intensive Care Unit), and will probably be there until he begins to recover - if he recovers at all," the doctor spoke softly, voice laced with remorse and professionalism.
"Can I see him?" Isshin asked quietly. The doctor nodded.
"Only for a few minutes."
Grimmjow watched Isshin follow the petite doctor to a set of elevators in complete astonishment. He felt like he'd been side-swiped.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He couldn't breathe. His throat was clogged, his heart was racing, his body was trembling, and his chest felt like an elephant had decided to use him as a picnic bench. His legs were so close to giving out on him, but he refused to stay put. He didn't want to stand or sit, he needed to move.
He didn't want to see his Ichi lying in a hospital bed totally unresponsive and probably dying.
Shit.
Slowly, painfully, he moved down the hall in the opposite direction towards the exit. His brain was so cruel. Now was not the time to supply him with images of Ichigo smiling at him, beautiful brown eyes sparkling with mirth and crinkling in the corners, or of Ichigo kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him and holding him at night. Ichigo being pretend-angry with him, scowling and pouting adorably, Ichigo moaning and writhing underneath him...Ichigo telling him he loved him.
Grimmjow paused, raising and leaning his right arm against the pristine white wall, his left hand grasping his shirt right over his heart, as his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth clenched together.
Oh god.
The pain.
Ichi.
Grimmjow tried to forcefully swallow the lump that had risen in his throat to no avail. His mouth involuntarily turned down at the corners, and tears stabbed the backs of his eyes mercilessly.
Oh god.
He might never get to see Ichigo do any of those things again. He might never hear him say he loved him. Ichigo might never know that Grimmjow loved him back.
He tried to continue moving, tried to put one foot in front of the other, but his body rebelled and wouldn't fucking budge. Instead, he found himself gasping as the sharp pain in his chest twisted and ached again.
"Ichi," he whispered to himself. He was oblivious to the looks of worry and sympathy he was receiving from his and Ichigo's friends. Guilt, grief and regret had taken a hold of him, consuming him, making him unrecognizable even to himself. "Ichi."
Grimmjow's legs slowly gave out, as he slid down the wall, trying his hardest to stay standing, but the ungodly pain, the absolutely agonizing pain had rendered him helpless. He landed on his knees, his hands falling in his lap where they gradually balled into tight fists.
Fuck, he couldn't breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart and lungs bare-handed.
He hadn't even noticed the tears freely pouring down his cheeks, all he was aware of was the aching pain that left him breathless. Another image played before him. Ichigo running his hands through Grimmjow's hair when he thought he was asleep.
Fucking hell.
Grimmjow bent forward, lowering his forehead to the tiled floor, a loud, unexpected sob bursting free from his chest. He clutched the spot over his heart, fingers twisting the material of his t-shirt desperately.
Please, stop.
Please.
He couldn't deal with this kind of hurt, this kind of ache.
"Ichi, I'm so sorry!" he gasped, nose running. "I coulda done somethin'! Somethin'! Oh god, I'm fuckin' sorry!"
A hand on his back did nothing to calm him. He was so overtaken with grief and pain, he didn't even realize the hand belonged to his Pop until the man spoke.
"Grimmjow," his oyaji's deep voice rumbled gently.
Grimmjow's shoulders shook uncontrollably as his hands fisted in his hair, his forehead still kissing the floor, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he chanted. The words seemed to ease the pain somewhat, but not nearly enough to completely soothe him.
"Grimmjow," his Pop tried again, "come here, son."
His Pop hefted his seemingly lifeless body from the floor and pulled him into a bear hug. The rest of his sanity disappeared, and Grimmjow violently sobbed into his Pop's shoulder, clutching the older man's shirt, words coming out as hitched breaths and hiccups.
"Oh god, Pop! He doesn't know! I-Ichi doesn't know! I never got a chance to tell him how I feel! I never told him I love him!"
His Pop only held him tighter, both men still on their knees in the middle of the hospital hallway, but neither of them caring.
Grimmjow was beside himself.
What had he and Ichigo done to deserve this?
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Underneath It All