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The War Within	By : Raymy Category: Bleach > General Views: 3458 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or its characters. I received no money for this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter Warnings: M/M, D/s - traits, TF (transformation - discussion), Tort (torture - injection, needles), drugs (and effects), swearing, some medical/scientific language. (hey! some people can't stand that stuff)
3. Somnolence & Delinquency: A Novel Cure
Meanwhile, earlier that day in Hueco Mundo, dramatic measures were taking place.
Aizen Sōsuke, renegade taichou of the 5^th division, plotted a course correction for two of his Espada in Las Noches just as Kurotsuchi plotted a course corruption for two Shinigami in Soul Society.
Aizen had showed no outward perturbation in Grimmjow Jaegerjacques’s defiance when he went to Karakura Town without permission, taking five other Arrancar with him to their deaths. However, he also made no move to stop his fellow deserter and recent taichou of the 9^th squad, Tōsen Kaname, from lopping off and disintegrating Grimmjow’s arm in punishment. At that moment, he didn’t feel the need to further the former 6^th Espada’s penalty beyond his demotion and disfigurement. Upon reflection though, he was uneasy with leaving it lie, due to the cause of Grimmjow’s folly being his impulsivity, which was not truly addressed.
The self-proclaimed ruler had another wayward prince on his mind, also. The Primera Espada, Coyote Starrk, was almost the opposite problem to Grimmjow. Starrk and Lilynette Gingerbuck’s motivation for joining him was companionship with other strong Arrancar, and with that goal achieved, Starrk had no other reason to make any effort for his cause. His lazy, tired routine was getting old to all the other Espada, and there had been numerous complaints, even from Ulquiorra Cifer who generally never cared about anyone else’s contributions.
When he came across Ichimaru Gin in one of the fortress hallways shortly after Grimmjow’s “lesson”, he shared his concerns. Gin had a way of giving him a different perspective and he often discussed his plans with the 3^rd’s former taichou. These discussions were frequently a prelude to sex as they occurred in their shared bed, more often than not.
“Tsk tsk, Sōsuke, takin’ a bit-o chance with tha’ little performance, no? Grimmjow was pushin’ all of Kaname’s buttons. You’d think he’d know the man by now. Ah, well, he’s lucky ta just get a wrist slap … at least tha’s wha’ Tōsen will view it as, since he really wanted his execution, instead.”
“Ahh, Gin, you were listening in? Not that I mind or expect anything different.” Sōsuke approached his lover closely, leaving barely two inches between them.
“I like ta keep up wit’ current events. I hung aroun’ in case you needed me.” Ichimaru’s squinting smile stretched from ear to ear and it took a practiced eye to decipher the nuances in his meaning.
Aizen had no difficulty recognizing the flirty tease, but also had no illusions that Gin was only there for him. The younger ex-taichou was not a foot soldier, like Tōsen, but a crafty player who usually had an underlying reason for his actions.
Sōsuke brushed the hair across Gin’s forehead, “Open your eyes, love. I want to see the sky again, which you safeguard for me behind that impenetrable countenance.”
Gin opened his eyes and lowered his smile, showing a rarely seen serious side he reserved for displaying his vulnerability to his Lord. Only one other being had received the reward of his soulful gaze, but she could not join him in this place.
Aizen knew he was blessed with this visage; Gin’s irises were tinted heavenly blue and shone as if the sun, itself, lit them from behind. He drank in the moment before capitulating to his urge to kiss this angelic demon, and then slid into the thin lips while his fingers clutched roughly to the sides of Gin’s silver head.
As Gin gasped and shivered at the intensity of their contact, Sōsuke’s tongue slipped in to possess him, dominating every movement, every touch. The senior man noted a recognizable taste, faintly, in Gin’s mouth and withdrew reluctantly to scrutinize his subordinate.
“Where? … You didn’t have time to bring Persimmons when we escaped.” Aizen smiled thoughtfully as he paused, knowing Gin had a good explanation; he never would have allowed himself to be caught unintentionally.
“Oh, din’t I tell you? Musta slipped ma mind. I jus’ got a care package. You know, some odds and ends from the people at home who miss me. Din’t you get one?” The silver-haired imp chuckled darkly at the thought of Momo sending Aizen a care package. “Although, yours prob’ly would have had a small, mousy-haired girl in da box.” He laughed even more at the image of a startled Sōsuke opening the parcel. Then again, the surprise might quickly twist into depraved ideas over the welcome new toy.
“You’re tickled pink and you think you’re so smart. Well, I can already guess who your contact is in Soul Society. It’s obvious that Rangiku is still pining over you. Except … it’s a small miracle that she was able to send something here. Do explain.” This was rather intriguing as there was clearly some information the dictator was not cognizant of, but he was positive Gin wouldn’t hold back with him.
“Well, maybe, she ha’ some help? I’m not sayin’ they’re with us, but … you took your loyal friends wit’ you, I lef’ mine behind. It migh’ come in handy, doncha think?” There was an uncomfortable truth in the assertion that Gin no longer had friends, as Aizen had stripped him of any meaningful relationships when they defected, save for this warped affection for his controlling mentor.
Aizen narrowed his eyes, “You’re not going to tell me, are you? Mmph. Frankly, I don’t really care how your forbidden fruit got here. It’s enough to know that we might have another angle to exploit.” That wasn’t entirely accurate that he didn’t care. He wouldn’t let it bother him at the moment, though, promising himself that later, when they retired for the night, he would “remind” Gin not to keep secrets from him.
“Precisely, ma love. I’ll keep her, erm … them, on a bait line, wrigglin’ a little, just in case. They would do jus’ ‘bout anything to “rescue” me from ya clutches. Too bad they don’ know tha’s the place I mos’ wanna be.” Gin snuggled up next to his master’s chest, yielding to warm, appreciative arms. He really did believe that Sōsuke was his one and only, true love.
After a few precious minutes of his beloved apprentice wrapped in his embrace, Aizen brought up the subject of his two Arrancar misfits. “Gin, tell me what you think of Grimmjow and Starrk,” he said into silky, soft hair.
Ichimaru pulled away just enough to face Aizen as he spoke. “Ya don’ need ta know what I think, you’ve already decided ya ‘pinion of them. Whacha wan’ is, wha’ ta do about them.” He was back to squinting through his eyes, grin already in place since the kiss.
“You’re right, of course, I am somewhat confounded on how to deal with them. If I could find a way to kill two birds with one stone ... however, I’d need a brick in Grimmjow’s case,” Aizen quipped.
Ichimaru chuckled in agreement, “Well, I’ll tell ya. Short of a lobotomy or personality replacement fo’ Grimmjow, and some high-grade amphetamines fo’ Starrk, t’only thing I can think of is ta ge’dem ta help each other out.”
Aizen quirked his right eyebrow up at that. “How would them helping each other create any improvement to their deficiencies?”
“The way I see it, Grimmjow needs ta demonstrate obedience and prudence, but he disrespects and defies ya ‘cuz you’re a Shinigami an’ so goes runnin’ about unchecked. Starrk’s a Hollow with immense power in an Alpha position, a fact tha’ the ex-sixth does respect; it’s a species thing. If ya pride can take it, let the more obedient Starrk relay ya wishes ta Grimmjow, who would then acknowledge and accede ta his commands. Plus, Starrk is a thoughtful, careful bein’, and as the dominant wing-man, he’d be the conscience whisperin’ in Grimmjow’s ear, guidin’ against his troublesome actions.”
“Gin –– that’s –– a remarkable perspective. What if Starrk won’t do it? Or more realistically, what if he won’t stay awake to do it?” Aizen didn’t think it would be that easy to control Grimmjow, but was quite impressed with the argument, nonetheless.
“Oh, Starrk’s much easier. Ya’ve got leverage with him. Lilynette. Tell ’im to be Grimm’s big brotha’ on some bogus mission so ya can test this out. Say ya’ll make sure she’s protected while he’s gone. He’ll get the hint that ya mean she’ll come ta no harm if he does it, but she will be harmed if he doesn’t. Tha’ll keep him awake, along wit’ keepin’ surveillance on Grimmjow. Tha’d make anyone stay wide awake.”
“Mmmn. Well, that’s something to think about, Gin. Thank you for your brilliant insight.” He felt he would need more than a camping trip for the two to bond and form the kind of relationship Gin referred to. His devious companion did jokingly mention some radical procedures that could legitimately be pursued if necessary.
“Ya welcome, Lord Aizen. I guess I’d betta be on ma way. So many things ta do, you know. Cya later, love.” Gin gave a quick peck to his mate’s lips and moseyed off.
What Aizen needed was something that would produce the antithesis to their faults. He wanted Grimmjow to be more cautious and compliant, while Starrk needed to stay awake and contribute to the overall mission.
If he’d had time, he would train them himself, with methods he was confident would work. The notion was very appealing, however, he actually was very busy lately, like Gin, preparing for war and such.
He knew there was only one person under his domain that could make this metamorphosis happen. Szayelaporro Granz, 8^th Espada and talented inventor. This independent Arrancar could rival both Kurotsuchi and Urahara in ability and ingenuity. Surely, if something could be done with the errant duo, he would find the way.
Aizen would send for Starrk and Grimmjow after he finished talking with Szayel in his state of the art laboratory. He had provided the expensive facility for the distinctive scientist as a gift of admiration, for both his expertise and his enchanting coral-coloured hair. Granz’s vulnerable free spirit was intoxicating to him, begging to be tamed, and he wouldn’t have to delay much longer. He’d let him get this one thing accomplished before he ...

The consultation was worthwhile; Aizen was pleased to find out that he wouldn’t have to wait to see changes in the two Espada. He summoned them to appear before him immediately.
It seems that his innovative pet had already been designing a drug that would target the specific area of the brain known to control the “switches.” These were genetic markers that could literally be toggled ‘on’ or ‘off’ if a certain corresponding enzyme was triggered in the targeted cerebral gland. Normally, the body’s genetic code was secure in its original configuration unless strong external forces acted upon it. Such was the case with specific genetic predispositions that lay dormant until a stimulating factor occurred which could cause some tissue cells to begin unchecked growth, resulting in cancer. If the predisposition could be turned ‘off’, there would be no resultant malignancy.
Szayel had no lofty aspirations to cure disease or prevent defects. These things rarely occurred in Hollows and when they did, natural consequences sorted everything out, the way it should, in his mind. No, he was experimenting with this drug because … he could, and he wanted to find out how far he could manipulate DNA. He was advanced enough in his research that he knew quite a few conversion enzymes and what their linked genes denoted. He was confident he had already uncovered Lord Aizen’s required objectives.
When Starrk arrived at the Throne room in response to Aizen’s “request”, a one-armed Grimmjow was already pacing back and forth, agitated by having to wait to find out why he was summoned. Grimm hated to be ordered about, but he loathed when others wasted his time, even more.
“It’s about fuckin’ time! What? –– Did you have to take a nap before coming?” The blue-haired Arrancar shouted. When he saw Starrk’s eyebrows raised in query while staring at his phantom arm, he ground his teeth and softly growled, “Tōsen.”
Grimmjow turned his attention back to the fucker who had stood by and done nothing. “Now we can get this show on the road. Lord Aizen, what’s the mission and will it get me back my number 6 rank?”
Aizen flicked his eyes between the two men; Grimmjow, who was angry, anxious and hyperactive; Starrk, who hadn’t reacted to Grimm’s insult and just about faded into the background for all the impact he had on his surroundings. He was quiet, observant and of course, lethargic.
“It depends, Grimmjow. I can’t guarantee anything, but if you do well, it might put you in good standing. Now, as for the mission, I need the two of you to do a little Adjuchas hunting. Specifically, underground, in the Menos forest. It might take a day, two at the most. Starrk, you’re in charge. Grimmjow, follow Starrk’s orders.” He didn’t bother to reinforce his command to Grimmjow by exerting his Reiatsu, knowing that he had an ace in the hole with Szayel’s assistance.
“Yeah, right. I don’t need to follow his orders. I can round up some stupid Adjuchas myself.” Grimmjow wouldn’t let an opportunity pass to show defiance to the Hollow Impostor.
Aizen smiled in that deceptively pleasant way of his and replied, “I’m sure that will change, but until then, I’ll need both of you to report to Szayel’s lab for an injection. I’m told that you’ll need to be monitored for at least 12 hours afterward, so you can begin your mission in the morning.”
“What the fuck?! I’m not gettin’ any injection. You can just shut that noise, right now!” Grimmjow bellowed. Gods, he hated needles. He didn’t know where that came from, probably his human life, but he Could. Not. Stand. Needles.
Aizen didn’t acknowledge the frantic Arrancar, but stared straight at Starrk. “Starrk, this is last time I’ll say this. You’re in charge. Make him go. Watch over him so he doesn’t do anything stupid. You’ll be accountable –– to me.” He started to leave the room, and the Espada pair to their assignment, but stopped short of the door, and added, “Oh, and by the way, Starrk. Don’t worry about Lilynette. I’m taking a personal interest in her safety while you’re gone. She’ll be perfectly healthy when you return, successful, from your mission.” There was no insincere smile, this time. Aizen let his steady, pointed stare convey his message.
After Aizen left the room, Grimmjow mocked him while pacing again, “Make him go. Watch over him. I’ll do something stupid all right. All over his head!” He grumbled to himself, “Tryin’ to make me grovel to you. Tryin’ to kill me with “injections”, using needles. No fuckin’ way. Nuh uh.”
Starrk stood still, in the same spot he’d arrived in, but he wasn’t feeling sleepy anymore. He was in shock. Lord Aizen had never threatened Lilynette before. He’d never imagined that was something his saviour would ever do, although, he’d heard rumours about his sadistic leanings. There was no time to dwell on it. If he didn’t carry out this duty immediately and effectively, his soul’s other half would be in jeopardy. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. He felt a sudden surge of heat from within his core, fueling a side of him long forgotten.
Coyote Starrk turned to confront Grimmjow Jaegerjacques who was still ranting. “Shut up!” he snarled, his lips curled up, canine teeth glinting. The taut shoulders, claw-shaped fingers, and icy stare were testimony to his wolf nature exerting itself. He released a barrage of spiritual pressure. He would not let this tantruming idiot ruin everything he’d gained. Maybe Aizen wouldn’t use his full Reiatsu to enforce his command, but for damn sure, the Primera Espada would.
Grimmjow cringed at the onslaught, his body forced to kneel. What the fuck? What’s going on? Aizen’s gone and yet I’m being crushed by Reiatsu. He looked up at Starrk’s grim mien, and shuddered. This is fuckin’ serious.
“Grimmjow ...” Starrk’s voice was low and menacing, an aspect the former 6^th had never heard before, causing his blue eyes to flare. “You will submit to me. Your only choice is how.”
Grimm didn’t respond. He couldn’t, really, because the pressure was incapacitating him. But because he still carried the scowl he had during his fit of temper, Starrk misinterpreted it as defiance toward him, and would have none of it!
Two minutes ago, Grimm had been pacing and grousing; then, he was forced down on his knees by massive Reiatsu and intimidated by Starrk; now, he was being hauled through Las Noches via Sonido. The last thought that graced his mind before passing out was, “Shit, he’s fast.”

“Starrk, I’ve been expecting you and …” Szayel greeted them in his white lab coat while gaping at the limp body draped across the First’s shoulder. “What happened to him? Did he faint? Where’s his arm?” He was incredulous to think that the peaceable Starrk did something so violent to the aggressive, blue haired man.
“Yeah, he blacked out. I think the speed of my Sonido cut the blood flow off to his brain. Although, he seemed to be worried about the injection too, and needles. Maybe that contributed to it. As for the arm, Tōsen disciplined him.” Starrk appeared to be back to acting like his usual self, minus the usual torpor, but it was just that, an act. He wasn’t going to admit to the 8^th that he’d pushed Grimm over the edge with his Reiatsu.
He was still in turmoil over the predicament Aizen put him in and would only allow himself to relax when he was sure Grimm had his shot. “Could you poke him first, and right now, before he wakes up? I have a feeling I’m in for a wrestling match if he sees the needle and would rather that part was over and done with.”
Szayel was impressed with Starrk. He’d never seen the man so dedicated to carrying out Lord Aizen’s wishes, and with nary a droopy eyelid in evidence. “Sure, sure. I’ve already got the first one ready to go. Put him down on this stretcher.”
Starrk gently laid Grimmjow out on the gurney. He felt a little guilty in having “gone Alpha” on him. That wasn’t the way he viewed himself, but he guessed it was instinct, because he, or more to point, Lilynette, had been threatened. Now, he was concerned about the volatile Arrancar’s reaction when he wakes up and that he might fall off the bed in that moment, so he lifted the guard rails, too. He turned to the scientist and pleaded, “Hurry, any second he’ll be conscious.”
Szayel swiftly grasped the full syringe and deftly inserted it into the bulging vein of Grimmjow’s remaining arm. He steadily depressed the plunger, transferring the experimental drug into its host. It took all of ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Starrk. He let out a long exhale of relief when the needle was removed and Grimm was still out. “Thank Gods. Maybe I’ll be lucky and he’ll not throw a fit when he recovers.”
“I can give him another needle with just a sedative, if you want to make sure he stays unconscious for a long while, but this injection already contains some opiates to keep the subject calm and that will keep him out for a short while longer, anyway.” Szayel offered.
“No. Thanks. This is good enough. I just had to get him to take the shot. Now you can do me.” Starrk rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm.
“How cooperative. Do you even know what it is you’re getting?” Szayel made small talk while moving to his lab bench-top to prepare the next dose.
“No. I’m just following Aizen’s orders. Tell me after, when I’m not tempted to change my mind. Besides, Grimmjow didn’t have a choice, so I don’t think it’s fair if I do. Which, I really don’t,” he said in a defeated tone.
The First stood there, wondering how his life had changed so suddenly. What had he done to displease Lord Aizen? Or maybe that’s just it. He hadn’t done anything. Nothing. He’d been doing nothing other than sleeping since Aizen brought him here and exposed him to that marble of energy, the Hogyoku. He tried to change his focus as this train of thought was depressing him.
Starrk surveyed the room while he waited for Szayel to get the next injection ready. There were hand drawn anatomical diagrams on the wall, quite artistically done, he had to admit. One of a Human, one of a Shinigami, and the one that caught his interest, an Espada Arrancar. There were tube-like lines running throughout the body, labelled “circulatory system.” Right, the blood flow. But what was really fascinating, was the small lump in the chest area, labelled “heart.”
“Szayel, that poster on the wall, of the Espada. Why is there a heart in him? Hollows don’t have hearts.” Something in Starrk was igniting; curiosity? hope? He couldn’t tell.
“Hollows lose their heart when as a human ghost, their Chain of Fate is totally disintegrated. As one of Lord Aizen's Arrancar, with our masks removed and a part of a Shinigami soul infused by the Hogyoku, our heart is returned. Even though our Hollow hole remains, we are part Shinigami now, and will have some characteristics in common. Some of my research is determining what those commonalities are. Exciting, isn’t it?” The scientist was beaming at his pupil’s attention.
“But if all Hollows bleed, they all must have a circulatory system which generally includes a heart, doesn’t it? How do you explain that?” This is just metaphysical musings, we can’t have a real heart, can we? Starrk’s own chest was burning now. He brought his hand up and laid it across his breast. He couldn’t feel anything.
“Lesser Hollows, untouched by the Hogyoku, may not have a physical, pumping organ, but their circulation still works without it. We’re Hollows! We defy the laws of Human physiology and live by Hueco Mundo laws. But if you’re wondering if that heart in the drawing is real, it is. I’ve dissected an Espada, before your time, and it was there, albeit somewhat smaller than a human’s.”
Szayel had finished preparing the syringe before the conversation on hearts began, but didn’t have the ‘heart’ to cut it short, since the handsome Espada before him was so inquisitive. He approached Starrk and tenderly patted his shoulder, breaking him from his introspection.
“You best lie down, too. This injection will take effect fairly rapidly and I can’t predict how you’ll react, given your propensity for narcolepsy.” Szayel pointed to another gurney which Starrk approached, not without a few misgivings, but there was nothing to do about it.
“Szayel. Can I ask another question? It’s minor, but it struck me as odd.”
The 8^th sighed, in an appreciative way, “Yes, go ahead.” He wondered if the man was stalling, but that didn’t seem like Starrk’s style. Except, he’d never seen the First talk so much.
“It’s just that I was expecting a shot in the muscle of my arm, but you injected quite a lot of fluid directly into Grimmjow’s vein. Why is that?” Starrk pulled one guard rail up on the laboratory bed before laying himself down.
“Of course. I’d be happy to explain the process, if you want.” Szayel was always thrilled to give details of his inventions; it was like being a proud papa of a precocious child. He spoke as he prepped Starrk’s arm, which is more that he did for Grimmjow, most likely due to Starrk’s interest and that he liked him better.
“The drug needs to be transported to the brain quickly, through the blood, so his arm muscle was useless, as that would take hours to fully absorb. It contains a cofactor, or “coenzyme”, that is correlated to the enzyme we’re aiming for, but it breaks down too fast to go the intramuscular route. Cerebral Spinal Fluid would be the fastest, but a needle in the spinal chord hurts like a bitch, so this is the kindest treatment.” The pink-haired scientist had a few more scruples than Kurotsuchi.
“Okay, that’s probably more than I needed to know, but thanks,” the Primera closed his eyes as he let his body unwind from the stress of Aizen’s warning.
As the drug filled Starrk’s vein, it was cold, and he could feel it moving up his arm towards his –– real heart. After that, he couldn’t feel the temperature anymore, but a beautiful euphoria overcame his senses. He wondered at the nature of his own heart and put his hand over his breast again, trying to detect it.
“Szayel? I can’t feel it. How do I know it’s there?” Was he was speaking metaphorically? Just because he had a bit of Shinigami soul, did that fledgling heart have the capacity for love? But Hollows are consumed by a need to devour, to fill the emptiness that once was their heart. His emptiness had been a never-ending loneliness, a situation he thought was rectified first by Lilynette, and then by Aizen. He assumed he was incapable of love, but what if it was possible?
“Trust me, Starrk. It is. Maybe I’ll let you listen with my stethoscope in the morning.” Szayel smiled fondly at the worry lines that appeared on his subject’s forehead. He’d always admired this man’s calm, and it was disconcerting to see him unsettled, so he lay his palm across the offending wrinkles to smooth them out.
Listen to my love? I wonder what it sounds like, mused Starrk. Szayel was unaware that his answer could have been misleading, since the First Espada had been thinking a different question and was –– well –– high on opiates.
Starrk’s mind wandered away from that perplexing contradiction of Love and Hollows, as it was unable to stay focused on anything so inconsistent. Instead, he took note of some other peculiar sensations developing in his body. His genitals were pleasantly tingling, and he quivered at the thrill.
Grimmjow lay there silently, taking in the conversation. He’d been awake since just after the needle was removed from his arm, but he was feeling rather mellow, and didn’t care as much, anymore. He hadn’t paid attention the whole time, but he did follow the ‘heart’ exchange. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, and right now, it didn’t matter. He was floating on a magic carpet, fighting off puffy dragons. Strangely though, his groin felt like a feather was tickling it and he shivered with pleasure.
Szayel observed the two men twitch, enjoyment spread across their faces. Well, isn’t that a coincidence? They’re both having a sensual response. This is an unexpected side-effect.
He lifted up the other guard rail on Starrk’s gurney and moved the two stretchers closer together to keep a better eye on Lord Aizen’s thorns. He amused himself by giving them nicknames, Somnolence (Starrk) and Delinquency (Grimm). Hey, it was better than Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

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