Bleach 1. Chapter I

**TITLE: **_The Ghost Of You_

**AUTHOR: **BLEACHIDIOT22487

**GENRE: **Romance/Drama/Tragedy/Humor

**RATING: **T for language, violence, mention of rape, and homosexuality (rating will change in future chapters)

**WORD COUNT (CHAPTER): **1,000-2,000 or 2,000-3,000, depending on the chapter

**STORY INSPIRATION: **My Chemical Romance's hit single "The Ghost Of You" off their 2004 album _Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge_.

**IMPORTANT: **I added homosexuality to my rating warning not because I have an issue with it, but because some people are sensitive to the subject. I DO NOT have an issue with homosexuality in any way, shape, or form, and I do not have any issues with people who practice homosexuality. If you who is reading this practices homosexuality, please know that I do not have any problems with it, and I apologize if I offended anyone.

**DEDICATION: **To all the fellow IchigoxRenji fans out there. We know that it's damn near impossible, but if we keep the hope alive, it just might happen. :)

**-------------------**

**CHAPTER I**

**-------------------**

Five weeks ago, the Kurosaki clinic would have been a hive of activity, alive with the energy of a, for lack of a better term, "odd" family. The usual would happen, Ichigo would arrive at his house past his curfew, only to be ambushed by his psychopathic father the moment he walked through the door. Then, while he and his father would engage in a pointless bar-room style brawl, his sisters would look on with humorous expressions, not bothering to break up the fight for the announcement of dinner.

But that was five weeks ago.

Now, all that inhabited the house was an eerie, deathly silence. All energy that had once radiated from the building had ceased, replaced by an empty, lifeless aura. The house would have been taken for abandoned, if not for the singe individual that remained. Sprawled out across the couch, Ichigo stared blankly at the bland ceiling, body motionless. His empty, brown eyes were drained of all emotion. If not for the fact that he was visibly breathing, his firm chest rising and falling continuously, he would have been mistaken for a soulless corpse.

His family was gone. Four weeks ago, he had come home to an empty house. It hadn't phased him greatly at first. Even though it wasn't normal for his whole family to be gone at eight o'clock at night, but he had reassured himself that there was nothing wrong. But as minutes turned into hours, his anxiousness rose gradually. By the time he woke up the next morning, there had been no sign that they had returned. Days went by without any word from his family, and as days rolled into weeks, Ichigo had lost all hope.

He rarely left his house, only once ever so often to get food, and maybe once he had left to go out for dinner with a few friends from school. Ichigo could vaguely recall the last time he ate, only remembering that it hadn't been much. His stomach constricted, then let out a low, prolonged growling noise. His mouth was as dry as cotton, not having drank anything in the past two days. His blinked suddenly as a loud knock came from the door, pulling him back to the present.

Slowly pulling himself up from the worn couch, Ichigo stumbled across the living room. As he approached the door, he rubbed his face in a half ditched attempt to remove the dark circles from under his eyes. As his thoughts came together, he realized how much of a mess he must have looked like. He hadn't bathed in days, and the clothes he was wearing had been on his body since yesterday. He opened the door, blinking as he recognized the man standing on his doorstep.

"Hey, Ichigo, how're ya-" Renji cut himself off as he saw Ichigo's haphazard appearance and cold glare. "Doing?" He finished his sentence, his voice holding less enthusiasm than before, and his trademark grin gradually leaving his face.

"What're you doing here, Renji?" Ichigo snarled, his voice coated with annoyance.

"Kuchiki-taichou told me 'bout what happened to your family. Sorry…" Renji's voice trailed off briefly. "The Soul Society wanted me to come in an' stay for a while. To make sure you're alright, stuff like that."

"I'm fine, Renji." Ichigo's voice remained cold, and he began to close the door when Renji stopped it half way.

"Ichigo," Renji peaked his head through the door. "I jus' wanna help. I didn't come here to start any trouble, just to help get ya back on track."

Ichigo stared at the older man. Even though Ichigo wanted to close the door and return to his couch, there was something in Renji's eyes that made him act otherwise. It was probably the rare glint of true honesty that shone in them. Sighing, Ichigo stepped out of the doorway, allowing Renji to enter. "C'mon, get in."

His grin quickly reappearing, Renji briskly strode into the house. He walked into the kitchen and looked around. He had never really seen the full inside of Ichigo's house, just bits and pieces of it. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Renji turned to Ichigo, who was making his way back into the living room. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Don't know." Ichigo blandly replied, switching on the television set. "Maybe about three days ago. Wasn't much, though."

Renji frowned, folding his arms over his chest. Three days since Ichigo had food? That thought slightly frightened the older man. Had he not been sent down to check on Ichigo, there would have been no telling when the orange haired man's next meal would have come. Watching Ichigo for a few more seconds, Renji turned and opened up the refrigerator, scanning through the food items. "Well, guess I should probably make somethin' for dinner."

"You? Cook something?" Ichigo spat in disbelief, walking into the kitchen and watching the older man with vague curiosity.

"Despite popular belief," Renji sighed in annoyance, pulling a package of bacon from the refrigerator. "I am fully capable of opperatin' modern technology."

"Wow, lots of big words in that sentence," Ichigo sarcastically marveled, leaning against the wall. "You even know what half of them mean?"

"Yes." Renji glared at the younger man, becoming slightly agitated. He pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard and placed it on the oven top. "Sure can tell that you're glad to see me." Renji grumbled, pulling a bottle of Crisco and pouring some into the pan. He put his free hand over his nose, face scrunching up in a disgusted manner. "Jesus, how 'bout ya take a shower while I'm cookin' dinner."

"Why?" Ichigo growled.

"Because I can smell ya from in here." Renji cautiously tossed a few strips of bacon onto the frying pan, steam rising from the meat.

"Fine." Ichigo stalked up the stairs, muttering curses at the older man under his breath.

"Hmph." Renji superiorly scoffed, watching the younger man as he defiantly paced up the stairs. From what he could tell, this whole situation, Ichigo's family practically disappearing into thin air, had turned the once laid back orange haired shinigami into a ticking time bomb. Or at least a variation of a rabid wolf. And, quite frankly, Renji found the boy's attitude to be insulting, and it pissing him off. But, as he had said, he wasn't here to start trouble. He was sent to help Ichigo, not degrade his very existence any more than it already had been.

**Hmm, so whatda ya think? Yeah you're right, it does suck. Meh, it's my first try at somethin' like this, so what can ya do? Flame me if ya want, 'cause it's frickin cold where I am.**

**Review if ya want, I won't make ya.**


	2. Chapter II

**My first chapter to break the 2,000 word barrier! Yay! And guess what else? I get to go to my first anime convention tomorrow! AWRIGHT! I is going to glomp every Ichigo and Renji there! (I'll probably be drunk, though; it's gonna be St. Patrick's Day)**

**TITLE: **_The Ghost Of You_

**AUTHOR: **BLEACHIDIOT22487

**GENRE: **Romance/Drama/Tragedy/Humor

**RATING: **T for language, violence, mention of rape, and homosexuality (rating will change in future chapters)

**WORD COUNT (CHAPTER): **1,000-2,000 or 2,000-3,000, depending on the chapter

**STORY INSPIRATION: **My Chemical Romance's hit single "The Ghost Of You" off their 2004 album _Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge_.

**IMPORTANT: **I added homosexuality to my rating warning not because I have an issue with it, but because some people are sensitive to the subject. I DO NOT have an issue with homosexuality in any way, shape, or form, and I do not have any issues with people who practice homosexuality. If you who is reading this practices homosexuality, please know that I do not have any problems with it, and I apologize if I offended anyone.

**DEDICATION: **To all the fellow IchigoxRenji fans out there. We know that it's damn near impossible, but if we keep the hope alive, it just might happen. :)

* * *

Renji looked up from the large plate of crisp bacon as Ichigo walked down the stairs. The shower, as the older man had guessed, had done Ichigo wonders. Fresh, clean clothes replaced the old, rancid garments that he had originally been wearing. His damp hair drooped slightly in front of his cold, amber eyes, partially hiding his face. And, thank God, the nasty smell of old clothes and unwashed body had finally disappeared. "There, now ain't that better?"

"Hmph." Ichigo scoffed, leaning against the wall.

Renji rolled his eyes, shaking off the cold glare that was being sent in his direction. He put the bacon on the table and thrust a plate into Ichigo's hands. "Here. Tastes the best when it's hot. And don't bother savin' me any," Renji sat down at the table, entwining his fingers and placing them behind his head. "Looks like you can use all the food ya can get."

Ichigo muttered something under his breath and sat down, grabbing a handful of bacon strips and dropping them onto his plate. Picking one up, he studied it cautiously, as if he was suspecting it to be coated with arsenic. Slowly, he placed it in his mouth, gingerly biting off a small piece. Immediately, he cursed the older man for being able to make pig meat taste so damn good.

"Hey, uh, Ichigo?" Renji broke the uncomfortable silence, leaning forward in his chair. "What do you think happened to your family?"

Something that resembled a cross between sadness and anger flashed across Ichigo's eyes, and he shook his head, sighing, "Not now, Renji."

"Well, maybe if you had any idea as to what th' hell happened, then we might be able to figure this out." Renji's voice rose angrily, Ichigo's attitude pushing him to the breaking point.

"What happened to my family is none of your damn business!" Ichigo looked up from his plate, his eyes warning the older man from continuing.

"Look, Ichigo," Renji stood up, his lean frame towering over the younger man. "I'm just here to help. I didn't even try to start anything, so don't be jumpin' on me just 'cause I'm the only one around here."

"Well, I didn't ask for your help!" Ichigo shouted while standing up, knocking the chair back.

"Don't act like you were just fine before I came," Renji warned dangerously. "You hadn't eaten anything in _three days_! You were perfectly fine with just sittin' on that damned couch and starving yourself to death."

"So what if I was?" A feral snarl ripped out of Ichigo's throat. "What I do with my life is none of your fucking business."

"You little whimp," Renji growled. "You want to die, don't ya? You're too much of a pathetic wuss to pick yourself up and live. You're nothing more than a _coward_."

"I think you should leave. Now. Before I do something I might regret in the long run." Ichigo glowered at the older man.

Renji growled as he glared at Ichigo. "I think I will. You can just sit here and fucking _rot _for all I care."

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." Ichigo snarled, watching the older man walk out the door. The yelling had left his breathing ragged and his voice lightly hoarse. His mind was still a hazy whirl of anger, confusion, and frustration. He pulled back his clenched fist and pounded it into the door, his knuckles stinging. His eyes began watering, not from the pain of the impact with the door, but from losing yet another one of his loved ones. He cursed Renji for being so damn caring, for being kind, for being such a good friend.

Ichigo weakly stumbled into the living room and let his weary body fall onto the couch. _'I am such a jackass,_' He scolded himself silently. He scolded himself for being too damn proud to confide in the only person he had left, for pushing that only person away when his only intentions were to help him. That was all Renji had done, was tried to help. What Ichigo would have given to have Renji sitting next to him, to see his stupid, childish grin, to hear him make some dumb remark.

He turned onto his stomach, letting the pain engulf him. He deserved it, he supposed. What had Renji done, other than offer some companionship for his hard times. He didn't deserve someone like that, someone who was willing to be such a good friend. Contemplating his losses, Ichigo reluctantly closed his eyes and let the painful darkness consume him.

The ringing noise was faint at first, but its volume gradually increased. Ichigo looked up and shook his head, blinking. He yawned deeply, rubbing his face. He tiredly reached into his pocket and pulled out the ringing phone. The light coming from the screen hurt his eyes, and he squinted against the sudden brightness. On the caller I.D. scroll, it read one word: Renji.

Ichigo swallowed nervously, studying the screen. Normally, he would open the phone and demand why the older man would be bothering him, but he just plain scared. Probably scared of what Renji had to say, afraid of the scolding he would receive. A small bar on the side of the message caught his attention. It read: Message delayed for 240 minutes. _'Delayed for four hours?' _Ichigo pressed the call button and opened the text message.

'_Sensed some weird reiatsu, but there were no hollow reports from the SS. I'll be sitting on the bench in the park, the one right near the streetlight, until it goes away. You can join me if you want, but I'm not expecting you to. Once whatever's causing this weird spirit energy disappears, I hope ya don't mind if I bunk at your place tonight. Don't worry, I'll be out of there before you wake up.'_

Ichigo couldn't sense Renji's reiatsu anywhere, so he assumed that he wasn't somewhere in the house. And it was only one in the morning, so he couldn't have gone back to the Soul Society. Maybe going and joining him in waiting for some freakish spirit energy wouldn't be such a horrible idea.

He stood up and grabbed his zanpakuto, which had been leaning against the wall, and tested it. It felt extremely heavy after all of this time. His strength had deteriorated from his days without food, and he questioned his ability to wield such a large weapon in his condition. He shrugged off his doubts and left through the door, the cool, crisp night air sending chills up and down his body.

The park wasn't too far away from his house, just a few blocks away, at most. But as Ichigo approached his destination, he couldn't feel any rise in Renji reiatsu. In fact, it felt as if it was dissipating, disappearing into the distance. _'Maybe Renji's chasing whatever had that weird spirit energy,' _No, Renji was close by, Ichigo could tell. It was almost as if his comrade was right under his nose, but was nowhere to be found.He gradually broke into a run as he neared the park, feeling Renji's reiatsu quickly dissipate.

Ichigo's feet skidded against the pavement as he turned into the wooded park, the pathway lighted by the gradual flickering streetlamp. His mind was racing with panic as he tried to detect his friend. He found the bench that Renji was supposed to have been sitting on, but found it empty. A wave of terror broke over Ichigo as he looked around the small area. The only source of light, a streetlight, sputtered, then gave out, leaving Ichigo in complete darkness. _'Oh, great.' _

Ichigo cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the black night, "Renji!" He listened intently for any kind of response, but heard none. He stepped forward to continue the search, but his foot slipped slightly. Bending down, he ran a finger over the thick, warm liquid, brought it up to his face, and sniffed it. His eyes widened as the liquid flashed in his mind: Blood. Only one thought raced through his head as he ran into the woods. _'Not Renji. Not here, not now, not like this.' _Ichigo had lost everything. His mother, then his father and sisters, and he couldn't deal with loosing Renji.

He ran so fast; faster than he ever had before. He ignored the stinging of the twigs snapping in his face and the rough bark scraping against his arms and legs. He gave a quick yelp as he tripped over a large mass on the ground that Ichigo had taken to be a log; until it coughed. And Ichigo new for a fact that logs couldn't cough or rasp.

Ichigo turned cautiously and lightly placed a hand on the figure, feeling it flinch back against his touch. "R-Renji?"

"Ich…igo?" Renji coughed, then groaned. "Th' hell you doin' here? Thought…you were pissed at me."

"Oh, shit," Ichigo choked back a sob, gathering the older man up in his arms. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He could feel the grass becoming wet with blood, and his hands becoming damp with the vile, red liquid.

"Who…you tellin'?" Ichigo could see Renji smirk, blood trickling from his parched lips. He went into another coughing fit, body shaking violently against Ichigo's. "Christ…hurts like a bitch."

Ichigo attempted to staunch the bleeding of the wound on Renji's abdomen by placing a hand over it, but pulled it back when his touch sent him into another painful spasm, the older man's body beginning to convulse. He shut his eyes, groaning as blood began to emerge from his wound once again.

"No! Don't fall asleep," Ichigo yelled in horror as the older man's muscles began to relax.

Renji dismissed his worries with a weak wave of his hand and a smirk. "Afraid I ain't gonna wake up?"

Ichigo looked away as his eyes began to water. That was exactly what he was afraid of. If he hadn't of yelled at Renji, kicked him out, been so damn stubborn, then he wouldn't have been lying in his arms, dying.

Renji flinched as he felt something wet fall onto his face, and he opened his eyes, pulling out a small smile. "You cryin'?" His grin widened as Ichigo looked away. "Am I makin' you cry, Ichigo?" The older man's voice became guilty and his words slurred together, his eyes taking on a mournful tint. "Din' mean to make ya cry. Honest t' God, I din'."

"Yeah," Ichigo choked out, clasping Renji's cold hand. "I know."

"I was jus' tryin' t' help ya. Ain't that what friends'er supposed t' do?" Renji rasped, relaxing against the younger man. "Can't blame ya for hatin' me, though. I was pryin' int' your life, an' I yelled at ya. Guess I deserve t' die."

Ichigo shook his head, tightening his hold on his companion. "No, don't say that." His tears began to flow freely as he felt Renji's reiatsu slowly deteriorate.

"But ya know what?" Renji looked up, his eyes meeting Ichigo's "I know what' it's like t' lose somethin', _everything_. It'll hurt real bad at first, but ya learn t' cope with it."

"No," Ichigo sobbed brokenly. "Don't leave me."

"I ain't leavin' nobody." Renji coughed violently, the cocky smile returning to his face. "Still gotta take care of ya. I ain't been dismissed from my assignment yet. Kuchiki-taichou'd kill me if I went AWOL."

The faintest of smiles graced Ichigo's face. "You can be half dead but still feel the need to make a stupid joke, huh?"

Renji grinned, his eyes half open. "What can I say? I am a man of many talents." Then, he felt his heart skip a beat as Ichigo did one of the most unexpected things ever: He kissed him. It was so passionate, yet to light, he felt his soul melt. This was a feeling he had heard about so many times before, but had never once felt: Love.

And in that brief moment of contact, Ichigo knew, in his heart, that Renji would pull through. He always did.

* * *

**BLEACHIDIOT: Ichi & Ren kissed! Yay! That took forever. Major writer's block. But I thank my trusty Root Beer & Chocolate cookies combo for keeping me up until two in the morning so I could finish this. And my spicy beef ramen for getting me pumped! WOOO!**

**Renji: I hate spicy food…**

**BLEACHIDIOT: Strange voices in my head again. That must mean one thing…**

**Ichigo: She hasn't taken her meds yet.**

**BLEACHIDIOT: OMIGOD! The voices know I take meds! And he's right! I have yet to take my pills!**

**Renji: Or go to the therapist. **

**BLEACHIDIOT: AH HA! I don't go to see a therapist!**

**Renji: Or do you?**

**BLEACHIDIOT: The voices are messing with me! EAT THIS, PRETTY BOY!! **

**(Takes a water gun and shoots Ichigo & Renji with it, then runs away screaming madly).**

**Until next time,**

**BANKAI! **


	3. Chapter III

**TITLE: **_The Ghost Of You_

**AUTHOR: **BLEACHIDIOT22487

**GENRE: **Romance/Drama/Tragedy/Humor

**RATING: **T for language, violence, mention of rape, and homosexuality (rating will change in future chapters)

**WORD COUNT (CHAPTER): **1,000-2,000 or 2,000-3,000, depending on the chapter

**STORY INSPIRATION: **My Chemical Romance's hit single "The Ghost Of You" off their 2004 album _Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge_.

**IMPORTANT: **I added homosexuality to my rating warning not because I have an issue with it, but because some people are sensitive to the subject. I DO NOT have an issue with homosexuality in any way, shape, or form, and I do not have any issues with people who practice homosexuality. If you who is reading this practices homosexuality, please know that I do not have any problems with it, and I apologize if I offended anyone.

**DEDICATION: **To all the fellow IchigoxRenji fans out there. We know that it's damn near impossible, but if we keep the hope alive, it just might happen. :)

"Normal Dialogue"

'_Thoughts_'

"_Ichigo's Inner World/Shirosaki" _

* * *

"How is he?" Ichigo's flat voice betrayed his worry for Renji. The only telltale signs that he was concerned about the older man's well being was his foot that had been tapping nervously ever since his arrival at Urahara's store, and that his eyes were practically glazed over with worry and concern. He swallowed anxiously, forcing the lump in his throat to disappear. "Well?"

Urahara sighed warily, his eyes thick with exhaustion. Yawning sleepily, he lazily scratched the back of his neck before replying. "Good news and bad news. Which one first?"

Ichigo could feel his stomach weave itself into a tight, uncomfortable knot. Fighting back the urge break into a nervous sweat, he swallowed before peering deep into the older man's eyes. "I'll take the good."

Urahara sat down on a chair opposite of Ichigo, his body landing with a muffled thud. "Well, I'm happy to say that Renji should make a rather speedy recovery. Very speedy, considering the condition you found him in. What would normally take someone a year to fully recover from should take him only a few months."

"And the bad?" Ichigo eyed the room where Renji was sleeping, silently cursing when he saw a tightly shut door.

"Several factors come into play there," Urahara began, running a hand through his mop of hair. "His wounds aren't…life threatening. But they are rather serious. If you had waited only ten minutes to search for Renji, there is a large possibility that you would have found him dead." He watched as a play of emotions crossed Ichigo's face before continuing. "What did he say attacked him?"

"He never told me." Ichigo looked down at his hands, bitterly remembering how Renji's blood had felt on them. "I thought it was a pack of hollows, maybe a small detachment of menos grandes."

Urahara tapped his chin thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Renji was wounded in four places: the left shoulder, below his left rib cage, his right arm, and left leg."

Ichigo looked puzzled, staring quizzically at the older man. "What does that have to do with what attacked him?"

"Maybe allowing you to see the wounds will give you a better concept." Urahara stood and led Ichigo to the back room, quietly opening the door, and walking inside. Ichigo shuddered when his amber eyes fell upon his comrade. Renji's entire abdomen and chest was bound thickly with bandages, coppery stains faintly outlining his injuries. Much like his torso, his right arm was wrapped in bandages, snuggly resting in a sling.

Urahara carefully unwrapped the bandage encircling Renji's arm, careful not to cause excessive bleeding. "Look." He ran a finger along the wound, tracing the smooth, bloody line. "If it were a hollow, the wound would be jagged, not smooth like this one. And that means only one thing," Urahara began rewrapping the bandages, occasionally wiping blood from the man's arm. "This wound was caused by a blade."

"Arrancar?" Ichigo inquired, tearing his eyes off of his wounded friend.

"It's difficult to say," Urahara rubbed his temples, an exasperating sigh escaping his lips. "That would be the most probable answer, but it's also the most unlikely."

"How so?"

"Well," Urahara entwined his fingers and sat them down on his lap. "The strange reiatsu that Renji sensed was picked up by other shinigami, including me. But it was the reiatsu of neither an arrancar nor a hollow."

"How can you tell?" Ichigo asked.

"It's strange, I can't really explain it, but," Urahara paused briefly when Renji stirred, then continued. "Only three things would have reiatsu on a scale that large: shinigami, arrancar, and exceptionally strong hollows. Each type of spirit energy has a certain 'aura'. These auras are very distinct, so much so that while on patrols, shinigami can tell whether or not an enemy or friend is approaching. The dilemma is, that the reiatsu was a three part mix between all of the types."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Urahara sighed, letting his eyes stray to Renji sleeping figure. "That there is something out there that we've never even heard of before, and that either prays upon shinigami, or wants Abarai dead."

The conclusion sent a wave of chills up Ichigo's spine, terror of a new, unheard threat now elusive and very real. What would want Renji dead? "Will he be safe here?"

"I'll keep him here for a week, but no more than that. Between me and my staff, there is far too much spirit energy than can be detected far too easily. In a week, I will move him over to your house."

"That makes no sense." Ichigo stated. "I have more spirit energy than anyone in this room. My house will be the easiest to spot."

"You can lower your spirit energy to the bare minimum, yes?" Urahara inquired, then continued once Ichigo nodded. "Abarai can do the same. I, however, am the only one here that can do that."

Ichigo nodded slowly, allowing his brain time to process the information. "When he is allowed to come home with me, and if that _thing_," He spat the word out in distaste. "Attacks again, what should I do?"

"Honestly, I don't know. The only advice I can give you is to gauge whoever it is very carefully, and defeat him at all costs. As far as we know, this is the only one of its kind, and could pose a great threat to all of the world if it could find some way to…reproduce."

"How could it do that?" Ichigo curiously inquired.

"How do shinigami reproduce?" Urahara sarcastically asked, sound slightly annoyed.

"Oh," Ichigo felt slightly embarrassed. Only slightly. His brow furrowed in confusion when he asked, "Shinigami can reproduce?"

"Yes, Ichigo." Urahara sighed, shaking his head. "Just because they're dead doesn't make them…infertile. If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here right now."

"Good point." Ichigo nodded. "Do you think Renji saw whatever it was that attacked him?"

"Most likely." Urahara confirmed, looking at Renji. "His blade had blood on it, so he must have had to see it in order to cut it." He turned to Ichigo and leaned forward in his chair. " And you're sure he didn't tell you what he saw?"

"Yes," Ichigo broke eye contact with Urahara to look at Renji. "He could barely speak when I found him, and what he did say had nothing to do with what attacked him."

"Very well," Urahara stood, sighing warily. "We should let him rest without us gawking at him like a pack of idiots. If he won't tell me, then I'm sure he'll tell you."

"_Jeez, King. What happened to Abarai?" _The voice made Ichigo stiffen with newfound terror. Biting back a string of curses, he excused himself from the shop and walked outside, letting the chill of the night air consume him.

"_Shut your trap, Shirosaki. I'm not in the mood."_

"_Hey, touchy, ain't ya? I ain't here t' start any trouble, just t' see what's goin' on."_

"_None of your business, jackass. Go piss off Zangetsu."_

_Shirosaki howled in laughter, folding his arms over his chest. "Don't pull that none-of-ya-business routine on me again, King. I'm livin' in your body, so what's your business is my business, too."_

"_Guess again." Ichigo snapped venomously._

"_Ya can't hide yer thoughts from me, King. I know everythin' 'bout you. I know what yer thinkin' right now."_

"_Oh yeah?" Ichigo challenged._

"_Yer thinking' 'bout when ya kissed Abarai. And yer wonderin' what th' hell attacked him."_

_Ichigo glared at his counterpart, but remained silent._

_Shirosaki cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Hey, King, what'd ya do if I said that I know what attacked Abarai and what killed yer family?"_

_Ichigo's head jerked up and he stared intently at the other. "What killed my family?"_

_Shrugging, Shirosaki turned his back to Ichigo and began to walk away. "Don't really know if I should tell ya. Ya might not like what ya hear."_

"_Shirosaki! Tell me, dammit!" Ichigo's command became lost in the wind as Shirosaki disappeared into the shadows, grinning demonically._

* * *

**Hmm, don't really know what to say. Shirosaki's gonna become a big part of this story. How? Just wait :)**

**Until next time,**

**BANKAI! **


	4. Chapter IV

A painful grunt escaped Renji's lips as he shifted his weight from his wounded leg, pausing on the sidewalk to rest against the crutch under his left shoulder. His mind, drowsy from the pain medicine, was telling him to continue towards the house, but his body held him in place. He closed his eyes as the ache in his right shoulder and the stinging in his ribcage slowly began to spread throughout his torso. The drugs Urahara'd given him didn't get rid of the pain; they only dulled it.

The shinigami shook off the wave of dizziness that was beginning to impair his vision as he felt someone gently grab his elbow. "C'mon, Renji," Ichigo murmured softly, putting an arm around the older man's waist. "Just a few more steps."

Renji looked down at the younger man with cloudy eyes then took another painful step forward. He bit back a yelp as a sharp bolt of pain surged through his left leg, but he sighed roughly and slid his other foot forward, both Ichigo and the crutch supporting him. The crutch hit a raised piece of cement, and the older man stumbled forward. He was quickly pulled from his descent as Ichigo's hold on his waist tightened, pulling Renji upright. "Just take it easy," Ichigo whispered, keeping his companion still. "Don't rush yourself."

"Right." Renji rasped, rubbing his right arm, which rested in a sling. He clutched his crutch tighter, leaning slightly against the younger of the two, and took another series of painful steps until they reached the house. Renji felt his eyes droop shut as Ichigo guided him inside the warm house, the orange haired man bedding the other down on the couch. "Drugs didn't work." Renji coughed, closing his eyes.

"What?" Ichigo pulled a blanket from the cabinet and brought it over to the older shinigami.

"Drugs ain't workin'," Renji repeated in a louder voice, turning his head to the side, a hoarse cough racking his body.

"That's probably because your wound's open." Ichigo pulled Renji's button-up shirt open and carefully cut through the layers of bandages. Pulling the bloodied pieces of cloth off of the older man's chest, Ichigo put a towel over the wound, the blood quickly soaking into it. The gash was worse than he had initially thought, beginning from the middle of Renji's abdomen and stretching to his back, barely missing his spine.

Removing the bloodstained towel from the wound, Ichigo watched uncomfortably as fresh, bright red blood bubbled up from the deep cut. He grabbed another towel and poured some alcohol onto it, looking at the grotesque wound with extreme distaste. "Christ, Renji," Ichigo sighed and shook his head. "How the hell did someone do this to you?"

Not bothering to answer, Renji just watched Ichigo's movements with extreme caution, as if he were expecting him to attack. Ichigo pressed the wet cloth against the open wound, pulling it back when Renji's muscles instinctively flinched back, his breath hitching in his throat. "Sorry, it's gonna sting a little," Ichigo winced sympathetically, gently putting the cloth back onto the wound. He gingerly wiped the blood away, occasionally retracting the bloodied towel when his wounded companion hissed in pain.

Grabbing some clean bandages, Ichigo began wrapping them around the older man's abdomen. He grinned when he noticed that Renji seemed to be holding his breath, his muscles tensing every time the younger man's hand brushed against his skin. "You can breathe, you know." A slight smile graced Ichigo's face, "It's just me."

Renji returned the smile, letting his muscles relax. "You should smile more often."

"Yeah, that so?" Ichigo tightened the bandages, smile still showing.

"Yeah. If ya spent near as much time smilin' as ya did scowlin', th' rain might just let up." Renji snickered. He rested back against the white pillows, his mind becoming cloudy once again. His mouth was still unbearably dry, and his throat still felt like it was lined with mucus. It was difficult to swallow, and when he did, it would trigger a sharp, stinging sensation that refused to subside. It felt like, in the week he had stayed at Urahara's shop, almost all of his muscles had dissolved away, leaving him limp and virtually helpless.

"Renji--" Ichigo's voice hesitantly broke the silence, causing the older man's eyes to open. Ichigo bit his lip, fighting over whether or not to continue, his amber eyes holding a large amount of inner conflict. "A week ago, when you were attacked..." He looked away, not wanting to face Renji's helpless form. "Did you see what it was? What attacked you?"

A flicker of some foreign emotion shot across Renji's cloudy eyes, the question seeming to kill any trace of happiness in his expression. "No. I don't know what attacked me."

Ichigo nodded slowly, eyes studying Renji with curiosity. He didn't want to think that Renji was lying to him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that his companion was hiding something from him. Deciding to let the matter rest for the time being, Ichigo put on a half-smile and stood up. "C'mon, Renji. You're not sleeping on the couch."

Renji let out a whiny moan, snuggling under the blanket. "Mnn. Wanna stay here."

"And what'll happen if your wound opens in the middle of the night and I can't hear you calling me?" Ichigo folded his arms over his chest, silently offering a challenge.

"Then sleep down here." Renji mumbled into his pillow.

"Yeah, nice try." Ichigo gently grabbed Renji's shoulders and pulled him up, putting an arm around his waist once he was standing. They walked towards the stairs, stopping every few steps so Renji could rest, and managed to make it half way up the stairs before his wounded leg buckled beneath him. He gripped the railing tighter, as if it were his lifeline, and allowed Ichigo to help him into a standing position. His bad leg was shaking terribly, twitching to the point where his friend noticed it. "This probably wasn't a good idea," Ichigo looked at the shaking leg.

"No." Renji shook his head defiantly. "I ain't lettin' some _stairs _do me in." Taking a deep breath, he stepped up, clenching his eyes shut as a streak of pain shot up his leg. An agonized sigh escaped his lips, and he continued up the stairs, biting his lip to the point of drawing blood. Renji rested against Ichigo, silently cursing how a simple walk up the stairs had literally exhausted him. Ichigo's grip on his waist tightened, and he led his companion into his room. "You can sleep here." Ichigo helped Renji into the bed, pulling the covers over his body. "I'll be sleeping across the hall."

Renji nodded weakly, coughing into the pillow. He rolled onto his side, hugging the pillow next him, and began snoring lightly. Smiling, Ichigo almost regretted leaving Renji in a room alone, even though his father's room was only five feet from his. With the strange creature that had attacked his companion still out there, along with his family's murderer still on the loose, just taking his eyes off of the wounded man made him nervous.

Shaking off the feeling, Ichigo walked into his father's room and sat down on the bed. The fact that he was sitting on the bed that his deceased father had slept in sent a shudder through his body. Right about then, going back into his room and curling up next to Renji was sounding like a pretty good idea--but the way his companion had tensed up at the slightest contact had led Ichigo to believe that the attack had shaken Renji up, and that the older man needed his space.

As he had done every night since his family had died, Ichigo began to try and figure out who could have killed his family. Up until the night Renji had been attacked, Ichigo had had no information on who, or what, it could have been, but then Shirosaki had messed around with his head again. However, Shirosaki was _inside _of him, and Ichigo had been at school all day the day his family had been murdered. So _who _could it have been?

Ichigo felt hot tears coming to his eyes at the thought of his family. He was a seventeen-year-old high schooler who had lost nearly everything. His life had turned into a swirling black abyss, and, after Renji's attack, had hardly gotten any better. Snuggling into the pillow, Ichigo fought back the tears and let his mind slip into unconsciousness.

----------------------------------------------------------------

_He could hear them screaming. Their mangled bodies were crawling away from a black shadow. He could make out a sword slice through his father's back, his bloodcurdling scream ringing through his mind. The shadow slowly dragged the blade through the older man's flesh, blood spraying in all different directions. As the sword was torn from his father's back, Ichigo could see the shadow move slowly towards his trembling sisters, like a wolf stalking a fawn. He could see his sisters holding each other, crying, blood staining their clothes, shutting their eyes and waiting for the blade's impact. The sword was raised, then dropped, making contact with Yuzu's skull._

"Ichigo! Wake up, dammit!" A pair of large hands roughly shook Ichigo's shoulders, causing the said shinigami to jerk upright into a sitting position. Cold sweat dripped off of his face, covering his body, making the clothes he was wearing cling to his frame. His breathing was ragged and uneven. A violent shudder made his body quiver. He gripped the bed sheets with his shaking hands, trembling at the vivid memory of his dream.

"Ichigo?" The younger man flinched back against the soft touch. He looked up at Renji, who was leaning against his crutch. His hand gently gripped Ichigo's shoulder, keeping him from moving away. His eyes were filled with concern and worry, studying Ichigo with apprehension. "What's wrong? You've been screaming for near ten minutes."

"It--it was nothing." Ichigo turned away and buried his face into his pillow, trying to hide the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "Just a dream, nothing serious."

"Nothing doesn't usually involve screaming and rolling around. Cut the crap and answer the question," Renji ordered, sitting down next to Ichigo with a weary sigh.

"It was just a bad dream. Go back to bed--you're probably tired." Ichigo gripped the pillow under his head.

"About your family." It sounded more like a statement than a question to Ichigo. Renji rested against the headboard, propping his legs up on the bed. He rested his crutch against the nightstand and folded his hands in his lap before continuing, "You were screaming your sister's names. When I got in here, you were rolling over yourself like a psycho." Renji looked sympathetically at his companion, putting a large hand on the younger man's head. "You must miss 'em a lot, don't ya?"

Ichigo snuggled up against the older man, still keeping his death grip on the pillow. "Why couldn't I protect them?"

"Ichigo, you-"

"My own _family_, my own flesh and blood, and I let them die."

"Bullshit. You didn't _let_ anyone die," Renji firmly stated, running a hand through Ichigo's hair. "You couldn't do anything about it, Ichigo. There's no way you could've known about what was happening."

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do, Renji?" Ichigo looked up at the older man, eyes filled with sorrow. "Aren't I supposed to protect my family? What good am I if I can't even do that?"

"Th' way ya keep blamin' yourself for all this is makin' me want to knock ya silly, ya know that?" Renji sighed and looked at Ichigo. "What do I have to say to get it through that thick skull of yours that none of this is your fault? I'm not gonna feel like repeating myself after this, so listen up good this time." He grabbed Ichigo's chin, forcing the younger man to look him in the eyes. "None of this is your fault. You didn't kill them, you didn't let them get killed, hell, you don't even know if they're dead."

"But in my dream-"

"It's like you said. It's just a dream, and dreams don't mean shit. Now promise me that you'll stop blamin' all the world's problems on yourself." Renji smiled as Ichigo reluctantly nodded, putting his head on Renji's lap. He gripped the leggings of the older man's pants, comforted by the feeling of his companion's arm holding him close. The first feeling of warmth he had felt in what had seemed like forever spread throughout his body, and, for the first time in months, Ichigo wasn't afraid to go to sleep.


	5. Chapter V

"Renji?" Ichigo stepped though the door into his house, wiping his shoes off on the mat. His call received no reply, and he began to quietly panic, straining to search for his companion's spirit energy. He sighed, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt a small trace of familiar reiatsu. Running a hand through his orange hair, the young shinigami gazed up at the clock on the wall. He grumbled, noticing that it was five past midnight, and time to wake Renji up for his medications. And after doing this for a week, Ichigo had realized that his companion didn't take too kindly to people waking him up every three hours so he could take some pills.

It probably didn't help that Renji absolutely detested the pills. Ichigo once had to forcefully cram them into the older man's mouth and keep it shut with his hand to make him take it. It also didn't help that Renji was taller, broader, faster, and stronger than he was, making it virtually impossible to make him take anything that he didn't want to more than once. The older shinigami also had five different medications that he had to take every three hours until his wounds had completely healed. And Ichigo didn't even feel like doing the math to figure out how long that would be.

Grabbing a bottle of water and the small orange canister filled with pills, Ichigo strode up the flight of stairs and into the bedroom he was sleeping in, now also occupied by his companion who claimed that he "wanted to keep an eye on him." Renji had been bunking with the orange-haired shinigami since the nightmare incident, despite his comrade's protests about how being in a crowded place would effect the healing of his wounds. The fact was that Ichigo had made that up, slightly embarrassed by being found in the emotionally unstable state that he was in.

Renji, who had been sleeping peacefully all day (save for the fifteen minutes after being woken to take his meds), was laying on his stomach, hugging the pillow beneath him. Ichigo sighed, shaking his head, as he had told the older man repeatedly not to lay on his stomach, for fear of his wounds reopening and becoming infected, which had already almost happened. A tiny smile played on Ichigo's face as a deep snoring sound floated through the room, being traced back to the tattooed shinigami who was, obviously, sleeping soundly.

"Renji." Ichigo gently shook the older man, trying in vain to wake him. The only response he got was an agitated grunt and a muffled "bite me." The young shinigami took the canister of pills and shook it next to his companion's ear, the sound of the pills hitting the plastic surface both annoying and rather loud. A large, strong hand came out from under the pillow and grabbed Ichigo's wrist, the noise immediately ceasing. A muffled growl and a few faint curses were heard from the pillow, but the grip on the young shinigami's wrist did not loosen. "You've gotta take your meds, Renji."

"Mmmph." The muffled protest was a sure sign of great agitation. Renji turned his head and looked up at Ichigo with bloodshot eyes. "No pills. Sleep."

"Do you want your wounds to get infected?" Ichigo asked, immediately kicking himself for sounding so much like a mother.

"Don't know. Would ya take care of me if they did?" Renji asked innocently, taking the canister of pills out of the younger man's hand. Running a hand over his face in an agitated manner, the red-haired shinigami removed the cap and took one of the pills out, gawking at the size of it. "Hell no. There is absolutely no way I am taking that."

"And why not?" Ichigo looked incredulously at the man on the bed, folding his arms over his chest.

"These are frickin' horse pills! Have you seen the size of these things?!" Ichigo grimaced; the pills were, in fact, very large, larger than anything he would feel comfortable taking. Renji threw the pill across the room, making a small clattering noise as it twanged off of the metal trashcan on the opposite wall. "You tryin' to make me choke or somethin'?! And they've got freakin' skulls on 'em! No way in hell I'm takin' these!"

Ichigo rubbed his temples, an agitated sigh escaping from his lips. This was what it was like to get Abarai Renji to take medicine. The ultimate quest from hell. "Renji," the orange-haired shinigami tried to find a new way of negotiation, somewhere around fifty of which had been used in the past two weeks. "If you don't take your pills than I guarantee you that you will get an infection. And I won't be patching you up."

"Yes you will." Renji stated as-a-matter-of-factly, rolling over so that he was laying on his back. "'Cause let's face it, you'd probably last about an hour before coming to help me."

"Yeah." Ichigo scoffed, "An hour after you kick the bucket."

"No, an hour after you leave. Your maternal instincts are too strong for you to abandon me."

Ichigo's eye twitched, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "Take the damn pills before I do something you're going to regret." He sat down on the bed next his companion, not having any energy available to put the pills in the older man's mouth by force.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll take the pill." Renji grimaced distastefully at the huge pill, glaring at the tiny black skull printed on the side. Inserting it into his mouth, his face twisted into a 'grossed-out' look, swallowing loudly. He shook his head, closing his bloodshot, watery eyes. "Never again. That was so gross, you don't even know."

"Whatever, tough guy. That's the same thing you said last time, so quit whining and go back to sleep." Ichigo smirked, putting the pill canister on the bedside table. He stood to leave, but stopped when he felt something tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

"Mmmph. No. Stay." Renji pulled Ichigo back onto the bed, shutting his eyes. Ichigo awkwardly landed on top of his companion's chest, trying to avoid putting any unnecessary weight on his wounds. The orange-haired shinigami shifted around cautiously, finding a comfortable position resting against the other man's side. There was still something bothering him, something that, would probably have him tossing and turning for hours on end. But Renji was still recuperating, and any touchy questions might spark a fire that couldn't be put out.

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It was at least three in the morning; Ichigo knew that much. Four hours after Renji had fallen asleep next to him, and he was still wide awake. The conversation he had had with Urahara earlier that day had prevented him from getting any kind of sleep. What he had said had only raised his suspicions about Renji hiding the identity of what had attacked him. But what Ichigo really didn't know was why Renji wouldn't tell him.

"_And he's told you nothing? Not a word?" Urahara asked, staring at the dark storm clouds looming over the city._

"_Not a word. No hints, no nothing." Ichigo traced the rim of his cup absentmindedly, the smell of coffee filling his nose. A bolt of lightning shot across the sky, fleeting shadows bolting across the walls._

_Urahara leaned back in his chair, the floorboards creaking beneath the shifting weight. "Is there anything you can think of that would cause him to remain silent?"_

_Ichigo shook his head silently, contemplating the situation. "I don't know, he…he gets real quiet whenever I bring it up, almost like he's afraid to talk about it."_

"_Afraid…" Urahara let the word linger in the tense air of the store before leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "Fear. Fear can control your every move. It can drive you insane if you can't escape it. Now what would Abarai be fearful of? What would cause him to remain silent, even when the person he trusts the most asks him?"_

_The silence was deafening; the tension that hung above the two men was virtually suffocating. What would Renji be afraid of? What repercussion of telling Ichigo would be so bad, so terrible, that he would distance himself from his companion when the question about his attacker came up?_

"_This thing that attacked Abarai, whatever it was," Urahara tapped his fingers on the wood table, his eyes dark and foreboding, "Is extremely strong. It nearly killed him, and he's afraid that if you knew what it was, you would be harmed by it. He's hiding it to protect you, so what happened to him won't happen to you."_

Was that why Renji was hiding it from him? Because he was afraid that if Ichigo knew, he'd get hurt?_ Stupid idiot_, Ichigo thought, shifting his gaze back to the sleeping form behind him.

"_Geez, King. I oughta say, you gotta get some sleep."_

Ichigo growled, wishing that his hollow would just shut up and mind its own business. _"The hell do you want now, Shirosaki?"_

The hollow shrugged, a grin playing on his pale face. _"Ya don' need t' be gettin' all snippety with me, King. I want t' know what did that t' Abarai just as much as you do. But c'mon, seriously, King."_ Shirosaki shook his head disapprovingly, his yellow eyes shut. _"Yer eyes are all bloodshot, yer as sleepy as hell, you've been losin' all kinds of sleep over this. It beats me up seein' ya like this, King."_

Ichigo snorted, sending a death-glare at his counterpart. _"You couldn't care less whether or not I'm getting any sleep. Don't go putting on all that good-goody two-shoes bullshit, 'cause I ain't buying it."_

Shirosaki pretended to be shocked, mock surprise flashing across his yellow eyes_. "Ain't you in a good mood. Don't know why I even bothered t' try an' help ya out, when all ya ever do is shoot me down. It starts t' hurt after a while, King."_

"_Not for you, it doesn't. You're a hollow. You're _hollow_. That means no emotion, no feelings, no nothing."_

"_Not so, King." _Shirosaki wagged an accusing finger at the orange-haired teen. _"That hurt, too. You ain't got a compassionate bone in yer body, ya know that? I'm surprised that Abarai's stayed with ya as long as he has. I'd bet ya if he didn't have these wounds, he'd of up an' left-"_

"_Shut the hell up!"_ That had been the last straw for Ichigo.

His pale counterpart grinned mischievously, a small snicker escaping his lips. _"Struck a sensitive nerve, did I? It's only been two weeks since ya two lip-locked, and yer already real overprotective of him. Besides,"_ The hollow absentmindedly ran a white finger over the blade of his zanpakuto_. "Abarai cares for ya too much t' just leave ya. Especially with that monster-demon thing runnin' 'round out there."_

"_What's that supposed to men, jackass?" _Ichigo challenged.

"_Oh, cut the shit, King. I know you know what I'm talkin' 'bout. Wha'd happen if he was gone an' that thing busted in here an' wanted t' smack ya 'round a little bit?"_

"_I'd smack it right back." _Ichigo boldly stated.

"_Please. If Abarai couldn't beat it, you don' stand a chance in hell. Yer little buddy Abarai there's keepin' what attacked him a secret 'cause it'd tear ya apart if he told ya what it was."_

"_Why?"_

"_Don't know if I really wanna tell ya that, King. Ya've been through enough, I don't want some stupid thing I say t' be yer downfall."_

Ichigo didn't feel like arguing with his hollow anymore than he already had. Pulling out of his inner world, the orange haired teen snuggled back into the firm chest of his companion, savoring the warmth emitted from his lean body. He didn't want to think about what Shirosaki had said, about how it would tear him apart if he knew what had attacked Renji. Suppressing all thoughts of the conversation into the back of his mind, Ichigo leaned into Renji's embrace and tried in vain to fall asleep.


	6. Chapter VI

"Renji! I'm back!" Ichigo called while walking into the kitchen area, carrying several large bags of groceries. He dropped them onto the table with a loud grunt, looking around the small downstairs area. There was something…_wrong_. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something that was definitely out of place. Shaking the feeling off, the young shinigami glanced at the clock on the wall above the stove. Realizing that it was about time for Renji's medication administration, he yelled up the stairwell, "Renji! C'mon, it's time for your meds!"

There was no reply from the Renji's upstairs sleeping place, but Ichigo didn't give it much thought. The man hardly ever answered when he called, especially when the word 'meds' was involved. He simply shook his head and began unpacking the groceries, not paying any heed to Renji's silence until a horrific thought stuck him: Where was Renji's reiatsu? Every time he entered the house, the older shinigami's reiatsu easily detectable, but, right then, there was _nothing_. Not a trace, not even the faintest sliver of his spiritual pressure could be felt.

Ichigo's heart skipped several beats when he heard a loud 'thump' come from the ceiling above his head; Renji's room was directly above the kitchen. His feet skidded across the floor as he ran towards the stairs, his mind a chaotic whirl of panic and dread of what he would face when he entered his room. Not being able to stop in time, his side hit the wall forcefully, his hand grabbing onto the railing of the stairwell for support. He ran up the stairs, jumping up two or three at a time. His deafening heartbeat was ringing in his ears, drowning out any other sound. He grabbed the door handle and roughly yanked it open, stopping in the doorway to look in horror at the inside of his room.

Fresh, bright red blood streaked across the white walls and collected in small pools on the floor. The vile liquid's stench hung in the air, nearly suffocating the teen. Small crimson splatters dotted the ceiling, tiny drops occasionally dripping to the floor. Deep gouges lined the walls, as if someone had been madly swinging a sword inside of the small room. A rough, hoarse cough pulled Ichigo's attention from the blood streaks on the wall to a bloody figure across the room.

Laying against the wall on the far side of the room, Renji struggled in vain to rise from the puddle of blood surrounding him, managing to prop himself up on one of his elbows. He stopped and slightly jerked backwards, a gagging noise forcing itself from his throat. His eyes grew watery, and as his mouth opened, bloody vomit spilled from between his lips, splashing down in front of him. Lightly sobbing in defeat, he dropped back onto his stomach, face barely missing the red-tinted vomit and landing in pure blood. "I…I can't…I can't g-get up." The older shinigami was sobbing without tears, fingers clawing at the floorboards, trying desperately to crawl out of the shallow puddle of blood.

Ichigo's entire world froze, and he could concentrate on nothing other than the dying shinigami trying to crawl across the floor and reach the door. Snapping out of his trauma-induced trance, he ran to his wounded comrade, slipping in the sleek, red liquid and landing next to him with a loud 'thud'. With shaky hands, the younger man turned the other over onto his back, resting his bloodied head in his lap. He used the sleeve of his coat to wipe the blood from the older man's face. Blood leaked out from the numerous gashes in Renji's body onto Ichigo's clothes and the floor around them. The younger man was unable to speak, just staring in terrified awe at his companion's sorry state.

Renji coughed, small splatters of blood randomly dotting his pale face. His eyes were glazed over in pain, all brightness and life completely drained away, leaving nothing but an empty gaze. His dark eyes stared up into Ichigo's, then down at the ferociously large gash in his stomach. Shreds of his clothes loosely hung around the areas surrounding his wounds. His breath hitched as Ichigo gingerly touched the tender flesh surrounding the abdomen wound, prompting more blood to drip from it. The older man began choking and gagging, his hands grabbing a hold of Ichigo's shirt. He tilted his head over the side of his companion's lap and vomited again, blood mixing with chunks of undigested food and pieces of his intestines.

"R-Renji," Was all Ichigo could get out as he watched his companion writhe and cringe in his lap, choking on his own blood and vomit. The orange-haired teen gathered his companion in his arms and held Renji's face with both of his hands, forcing the blank eyes to look into his. "Renji," The older man's name seemed to be the only word the teen could force out. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Ichigo asked in as calm a voice as he could muster, "Renji, what happened? Who did this?"

Another choke and a few raspy breaths were the first reply he got. Blood dripping out of his mouth and down his chin, Renji managed to gasp out, "I-Ich…Ich…Ichi…g-go." His eyes clenched shut as a blade seemed to appear from nowhere and plunge itself below his ribcage, causing the shinigami to double over in pain. An agonized howl ripped from his lips, his hands clutching the blade of the sword with enough intensity to drew blood, small tendrils of crimson liquid trickling down his hands and arms.

Ichigo stared at his wounded companion with wide-eyed shock, unable to fully swallow the scene that was playing before him. He felt Renji's muscles, still tense from the blow to his ribcage, slowly begin to relax and settle against Ichigo's body. "R-Renji…" Ichigo choked, tears beginning to come to his eyes. Having not realized it before, the teen felt something bound in cloth in his hand. As scared as he was of doing so, he followed the length of the blade up to the handle…

Where his hand, stained in the bright red liquid, was wrapped around the bloodied handle.

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Ichigo's eyes shot open, feverishly darting around the nearly pitch-black room. Sweat coated his entire body, the thin sheets clinging to his quivering frame. Waves of heat and cold spread throughout his body, intense chills running along the length of his spine. A violent shudder shook his body; fear, terror and utter shock of the images he had seen consumed his entire mind. Small tremors shook his quivering body, his hands gripping his head and his amber eyes clenching shut in a desperate attempt to push the terrifying images into the back of his head.

Everything had felt so unbelievably real; the slick, red blood on his fingers, the stench of blood, vomit, and organs clogging his nostrils, the feel of Renji's cold, dead skin against his fingertips, and the slick handle of the blade in his closed fist. Ichigo looked around his room, searching for any signs of blood or vomit, something that would indicate that his worst nightmare had become a shocking reality. There was nothing; no blood, no upchuck, no intestines spewed across the floor, no mutilated body of his companion lying in a corner.

Another wave of panic struck him as he realized he had no clue where the older shinigami was. He frantically turned over, the sheets wrapping around his legs and waist as he twisted to his other side. His eyes made contact with a bandaged, tattooed chest, slowly rising and falling in a calm, steady breathing pattern. Renji coughed in his sleep before sighing subconsciously, his body seeming to be in the same condition as before Ichigo fell asleep. The teen gave a shuddery sigh, relieved that the gruesome images had only been a nightmare.

Ichigo reached out, wanted to wake the older man and find comfort in his gentle embrace, but opted against it, biting his lower lip painfully. The nightmare was not something he was going to trouble Renji with; it was his burden to bear, and his alone. He withdrew his hand, only centimeters from the shinigami's serene face, and tucked it under his pillow, whimpering pitifully. Tears welled up in his amber eyes, and he immediately became ashamed of how week he had become since his family's death. After everything he had been through, was his breaking point really going to be a simple nightmare?

As hard as Ichigo tried to convince himself that it had only been a nightmare, a mere simple trick his cruel mind was playing on him, he couldn't dismiss how realistic it had been. It was as if it had actually happened, and had simply been playing back in his head, like a movie or a song. As badly as he wanted to find comfort in the reassuring words of the sleeping shinigami as he had before, he firmly kept his hands in place, his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow he had his face buried into.

Ichigo could tell that it wouldn't take many more sleepless nights and terrifying nightmares to start the crumbling away of his sanity. He was already afraid to fall asleep for fear that another dream would plague his mind, or that something would happen to Renji without him knowing. He viciously fought back the urge to break down and snuggle closer to his companion, letting the soft cloth of the pillow absorb the tears that silently ran down his face.

"Ichigo?" A quiet voice asked, drawing the said teen's gaze to Renji's concerned eyes. The tattooed shinigami reached out a hand, his fingertips gently brushing against Ichigo's tear-stained face. The younger of the two flinched back instinctively; the sudden contact, though soft, was surprising. Renji's brow furrowed in confusion as he propped himself up on his elbow, his hand comfortingly smoothing the teen's orange hair back from his sweaty forehead. "Ichigo, what's wrong?"

Ichigo looked at Renji's chest rather than his eyes, immediately ashamed of being caught, once again, in a pitiful, broken-down state. "It…it was just a dream. Nothing really serious."

Renji frowned sympathetically, running his fingers through the younger shinigami's hair soothingly. Ichigo turned his head to the side slightly and looked up at the tattooed shinigami with a watery eye. The mixture of sympathy and tender kindness that shone within the older shinigami's eyes surprised his shaken companion, but it was a welcome change to the cold solitude he had been in only minutes ago. He leaned into the gentle touch, a sense of safety and comfort slowly calming his body.

"Sure looks like something serious, though." Renji murmured softly, his lips gently brushing across Ichigo's.

Ichigo shook his head, pressing his body closer to Renji's in an attempt to warm his suddenly freezing body. A violent shiver ran down his spine, shaking his entire body before he tucked his head under his companion's chin. "Sorry for waking you." The teen murmured apologetically into the tattooed shinigami's skin, pulling the sheets around their shoulders. "I know you need the sleep."

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it." Renji gave a small smile, propping himself up on his elbow once again so he could toy with a short tuft of Ichigo's hair. He watched curiously as the teen's eyes darted nervously around the room, the muscles under his skin flinching at even the smallest noise. The floorboards underneath the bed creaked, and the orange-haired teen's entire body flinched against his companion's, his wide amber eyes searching the room. The older man scratched the back of his head, letting his fingers drift over the quivering boy's face. "Ya know, for a nightmare that wasn't all that serious, it sure has seemed t' have shaken ya up quite a bit."

Ichigo looked away, embarrassment and shame written clearly on his face. He was finding immense comfort in the older man's touch, but the nightmare that had seemed so real to him was not allowing itself to be submitted into the back of his mind. "It…it just scared me. That's all."

Renji could sense the embarrassment in his friend's statement, and gently stroked the teen's soft, orange hair. "Well, it's nothing t' be ashamed of. We all have nightmares, don't we?" He was careful not to make any sudden moves or speak too loudly, fearful that any of those would send the younger man into a seizure. "Ya sure you're alright? Ya don't wanna talk about it?"

"N-No…no, I'm fine. Just…" Ichigo stopped, trying not to sound as ridiculous as he knew he would, "Just…don't leave until I'm up, alright? Stay here 'till I'm up."

Renji gave a small smile, letting his chin rest on top of Ichigo's head as he laid back down. The air conditioning turned on, and the little open space between the door and its frame disappeared as the rushing air from the vent slammed it shut. Ichigo stiffened against the tattooed man, clinging to the bandages encompassing his torso. The older man tightened the embrace, whispering comforting words into the terrorized boy's ear. The words seemed to have a soothing effect on Ichigo, because before long, he was fast asleep, still clinging to Renji.


	7. Chapter VII

The sudden flash of lightning followed closely by a distant roll of thunder roused Ichigo from his deep slumber. Despite the terrifying nightmare, he had managed to get away with a comfortable rest once he had fallen back asleep. He rubbed his eyes and opened them, raising his head to look at the alarm clock resting on the table next to his bed. He groaned loudly when he saw that it was only four in the morning. He had originally hoped that his traumatic night would leave him so worn out that he wouldn't wake up before noon, giving him a chance to catch up on some much needed sleep.

The teen tried to recall the events of the previous night that had left him so frightened and tired. He shuddered as the vividness of his nightmare reentered his mind, the reality of the images, smells, and feelings making him wish even more that he had slept for a little while longer. He remembered waking up, shaken, sweaty, and scared, his limbs trembling from the aftershock of the dream. He remembered turning to face Renji, fighting the urge to wake his wounded companion.

A small blush of embarrassment crept onto his face as he buried it back into his pillow. He couldn't believe how weak he had let himself become since his family had disappeared. What kind of man who had rescued a comrade in the face of impossible odds would let himself become frightened by his own shadow? He had expected some changes in response to his family's death, but his constant jumping at every noise and growing fear of the dark were much more than he had bargained for.

Ichigo's amber eyes popped open as his thoughts drifted back to his friend. He abruptly sat up and looked down next to him on the bed, mentally slapping himself when he saw a bleary dark red eye staring back up at him. Renji rolled onto his back, scratching his shoulder as he stretched his sleep-cramped muscles. "What time is it?" He yawned tiredly, putting his hand behind his head as a makeshift pillow.

"Early." Ichigo sighed, scratching at the black shirt which hung loosely around his frame.

Renji narrowed his foggy eyes and studied the teen for a moment before asking, "The hell's wrong?"

"What?" Ichigo asked, not quite sure what the man meant by his inquiry.

"Yer shakin' real bad." He yawned again and sat up, rubbing the sleep induced haze from his eyes before questioning, "What's that all about? The shakin', I mean."

It wasn't until the teen looked down at his hands when he realized that they were, in fact, shaking quite badly. What concerned him, though, was that he didn't know _why_ he was shaking. He didn't feel sick or woozy, and it wasn't from the two second adrenaline rush that he had experienced the moment he had woken up. Ichigo put his hands into his lap and shook his head, "Probably just slept on them for a few hours." He added quickly when he saw that the older man wasn't satisfied with the explanation, "Nothing serious, I'm sure."

Renji didn't take his piercing eyes away from the boy for a few moments. Ichigo truly couldn't understand why his friend was regarding him with such sudden caution. It made him slightly nervous to be under his gaze with no explanation as to why he was being looked at in such an unnerving manner. Finally, Renji's sober expression disappeared into his normal child-like smirk. He waved his hand as if to dismiss the matter and stated nonchalantly, "Yeah, you're probably right. Hell, I get the shakes all the time."

Ichigo cocked an eyebrow as the shinigami laid back down on his side. _What the hell was that all about? _He asked himself silently as he watched his friend shift on the mattress until he had found a comfortable position. He was about to repeat the question out loud, but stopped when he realized that all of his jumping around had probably woken Renji up and had made him prone to believe that it had been another nightmare.

Sighing, Ichigo decided that it would probably be best if he got up and allowed his wounded comrade more time to sleep. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and gingerly stepped onto the cold floorboards. The creaking of the wood under his weight caused Renji to turn over and study him with the same cautious gaze as he had only moments before. The teen stopped, feeling the hard red eyes boring into his back, and sat still until he heard the man ask, "Where you goin'? It's four in the mornin', and you need your sleep."

"Ah, just thought I'd get your meds a few minutes early. I didn't make you take all of them yesterday." Ichigo moved to stand up, but was stopped when Renji spoke once again.

"No you're not."

The accusation made Ichigo's blood boil for some reason, and the urge to shout at the older man suddenly came over him. His fingers gripped the edge of the mattress like steel talons, and he breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his flared temper. "Yes, I am, Renji." Common sense would have told him that his sudden flare of hate was a sign that something was terribly wrong, but a cloud of violent intent was blocking all common sense from entering his brain.

"No, you aren't." Renji contradicted, sitting up on the bed. "Something's wrong."

"No, Renji." Ichigo growled through tightly clenched teeth, his vision beginning to turn red. "I'm just _fine_. Now do yourself a favor and shut the hell up."

"You ain't _fine_, Ichigo." Renji's voice wasn't loud, but it did hold a certain air of threat and command. "Your eyes. They don't look right."

"My eyes," The teen hissed, "Are perfectly normal." There was a deafening beating noise that Ichigo recognized as his own heartbeat, the pace rising as each second ticked by. The tension between the two men was thick and virtually suffocating, but he didn't seem to take any notice. All he could concentrate on was his self control and why he felt a sudden desire to draw blood from anything he could get his hands on.

Renji truly didn't want to press the matter and risk getting the younger man hurt, but he knew that he had to get rid of this problem before it escalated into a full-scale bloodbath.

"Don't tell me they're perfectly normal, Ichigo." He could feel the other's reiatsu flare as he spoke, but it only made him hesitate for the briefest of seconds. "You don't _feel _right, kid. Your ho-"

"My _what_?" Ichigo hissed dangerously, turning his head slightly side ways. "Were you about to say 'my hollow'? Huh?" A look of rage contorted his young face as he snarled at the man. He didn't know why he was acting that way, and at the moment, he didn't care. He stood slowly, his face still hidden from the older man's eyesight. He remained like that for a painfully long moment, before turning around, his grimace spreading wider at the man's expression. "Was _that _what you were about to say?"

Renji tried his best to keep a sober face, but he could feel shock write its way across his features as the young man turned around. His eyes, one golden yellow and the other a dull, lifeless amber, flickered across the older man's frame. Ichigo scoffed at his expression, a snort of disgust following as he raised his voice, "The hell's with that look, you son of a bitch?"

"The hell's with _you_?" Renji growled, every muscle in his body tensing as he watched the younger man. He couldn't use his zanpakuto against Ichigo; far to risky with the state the younger of the two was in. And using kidou would only kill the both of them, since Renji had given up on learning about how to control it since some hundred years ago. He didn't want to have to fight, but that was quickly becoming that only option that was available.

"_Me?_" Ichigo sneered, the sudden and unexplainable surge of anger that pulsed through his veins controlling his every move. Lightning flashed outside, the quick illumination sending eerie shadows across his already obscured face. Renji didn't look scared though; in fact, he looked more impassive than anything else. The lack of reaction frustrated and enraged Ichigo, causing him to growl in torment, "The hell do you think is wrong with me, Renji?"

"Ichigo-" Renji didn't see the boy shoot across the room--he probably used shunpo--and he didn't see him land only an inch away. But he did feel a hand grab onto his bandages and he definitely felt an elbow dig into his chest and force him against the wall. He braced himself as his back hit the wall, his arms drawn up as to keep his wounds from reopening. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and his body felt weighed down by the reiatsu that was leaking out of Ichigo's body.

"You don't like this, Renji?" Ichigo was yelling now, yelling louder than Renji had ever heard him go before. "I can see it! 'Why's Ichigo acting like this?' Huh? That what you're thinking?"

"Ichigo, get a grip!" Renji shouted, pushing back against the boy, using the wall behind him as support.

Ichigo laughed loudly, mockingly, in the man's face. "Ichigo? _Ichigo_?God, you're such a pathetic ass-wipe! Do I _look _like Ichigo to you?" He pointed a finger at a golden tinged iris, black sweeping across the whites of his eyes. "He ain't here right now! Can't you see that, you blind son of a-"

Renji took his tirade as an advantage, and used his good leg to hook around Ichigo's ankles. He pushed forward and felt the both of them fall towards the floor, until a hand reached around his neck and flipped him onto his back. Ichigo landed on top of him, straddling his waist as they both hit he floor. The struggle, added to the fall and the weight of whatever the hell Ichigo had turned into, had reopened the already tender wound on his chest.

Ichigo grinned, reaching a hand down and pressing it against Renji's throat. A satisfied smirk drifted across his face as the older man choked and writhed under his grip. "Oops. Am I hurtin' you?" He tightened his grip around the tattooed neck, a gasps and gagging noises resounding throughout the dark room. Yellow eyes studied the body on the floor with a sick kind of satisfaction, a glint of amusement passing through them as he saw a wet, red line form on the surface of the bandages.

He grinned, releasing Renji's throat and running a finger along the streak of blood. "Hmm..." Ichigo studied the red smudge on his finger, rubbing it against his thumb, relishing the slickness. "Looks like that hurts."

Before Renji could think about anything other than the scorching pain in his chest, his open wounded was met by cold air as the bandages were quickly torn off, leaving the unhealed gash completely vulnerable. Ichigo harshly probed at the tender flesh next to it, causing the older man's breath to hitch. Slowly, the boy began to grin madly, cocking his head to the side. He snorted something under his breath before he jabbed three of his fingers into the wound.

At first, Renji didn't feel anything. It was some sort of surreal, split-second of numbness, like he has having an out-of-body dream. But it only lasted a fraction of a second, as a blaze of searing pain ripped through the entirety of his body like a gunshot. It felt as if someone had poured kerosene into his body and dropped a match into his wound. The pain was like a white-hot flame spreading through his nerves. He tried his best not to scream, but an agonized groan escaped through his clenched teeth.

"Weak son of a bitch." Ichigo scoffed. Hell no, Renji realized, this wasn't Ichigo; it was that godforsaken hollow he was so damn frightened of losing control of. He, or whatever it was sitting on top of his chest, seemed to enjoy watching him writhe in pain, the proof being in the sadistic smirk adorned upon his face. "Don't know what the hell he sees in ya, t' be quite honest. Ya seem t' enjoy protectin' him, but let me ask ya this: How the hell ya plan on savin' him from the big bad hollows if ya can't even protect yourself?"

"Go to hell." Renji spat, instantly clenching his teeth again as he moved his fingers within his wound.

"Although, I gotta give ya this," He withdrew his fingers from the wound, leaving the man underneath him to gasp and pant as beads of pain-educed sweat dripped down his face. "King was just fine with sittin' 'round an' rottin' to death. Before you came along, at least. Didn't figure out that when he started starvin' himself, I started starvin' too. Shows ya how life can be such a bitch sometimes."

"So can hollows." Renji growled defiantly.

Instead of causing the man any more pain, he simply snickered and rested his elbows onto his knees. "King likes your sense of humor, Abarai. Makes him feel good when life bites him in his ass." There was a momentary pause before the eerie voice continued, "Despite how appealin' it is to slice ya in half an' leave ya for the kid to find, I don't think I'd benefit much from it in the long run."

"The hell you talking about?" Renji groaned as the boy's counterpart shifted his weight onto his gut.

"Let's put it this way," he smirked coyly, a glimmer of amusement shining in his yellow eyes. "You die, King'll kill himself. And I can't have that, now can I? But let's get one thing straight," He leaned down, leering at the shinigami as he spoke, "Yer steppin' onto dangerous grounds by comin' anywhere near him. One wrong move, and I ain't gonna hesitate to kill ya, ass-wipe."

The words confused Renji, but he had no time to question further, as a hand was shoved into the wound again. This time, the man couldn't contain the bloodcurdling howl that ripped from his throat. Ichigo's head drooped as his eyes shut, his body remaining in a sitting position on top of the shinigami. Renji was so dazed and confused that, at first, he didn't even think to push the body off of him so Ichigo wouldn't wake up to find his hand inside of his friend's chest.

"Shit." Renji coughed as he grabbed a hold of Ichigo's shoulders and gently pulled the boy's body off of his own. Blood pulsed out of the wound, but despite the pain, he managed to pick up his unconscious friend and carry him back to the bed. He grabbed onto the headrest, gasping for breath as fresh blood dripped onto the other's shirt. "Dammit," The shinigami cupped the wound, staggering into the bathroom.

He leaned up against the wall, stumbling to the sink. With a shaky hand, Renji turned the faucet on and held a towel against the gash, panting raggedly. It would take a few moments to put into place exactly what had happened. He had woken up and had been attacked by the hollow that inhabited Ichigo's body. But it hadn't been the hollow at first; it had been the boy's reiatsu when he had woken up, but it had abruptly changed the moment he had started shaking. _Why didn't I do anything sooner?_

"Ren...Renji," The said man turned his head to the door when his once-unconscious friend stood, amber eyes wide. He took a hesitant step forward, but stopped and gripped the doorframe in shocked silence. "Sh-Shirosaki told me what he did. I...I don't know why he did it. He said that...that he wanted to make sure that you knew what you were doing."

"Don't worry about; I'm fine." Renji tried his best to put on a false smile, something to reassure the teen that he was alright, but nothing could hide the blood seeping through the rag which he held to his chest.

"You're _bleeding_, Renji! There's no way in hell you're fine after I just-" He abruptly stopped, looking at the floor as he seemed to choke on his own words. He staggered backwards, his wide eyes planted on the floor. "I...I..._oh my god_."

"Ichigo," Renji murmured sympathetically, walking over the orange-haired shinigami. He was quite thankful that his wound had stopped bleeding so quickly, probably thanks to the reiatsu he had kept built while his wounds were healing, since the sight of it probably would have sent the boy into shock. He reached out, meaning to take the boy into his arms and offer him as much comfort as he could, but stopped as Ichigo stepped back.

"No." The teen took another step back, shaking his head. "Just...just stay away." He couldn't believe what he had just done. There was still blood on his hand, drops of it on his shirt that made him cringe repeatedly.

_Christ, Ichigo, please don't do this now, _Renji thought as he put a hand up, motioning for Ichigo to stop. Slowly, very slowly, he walked towards the boy, sighing in relief when the other didn't back away again. He gently placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, reassuring him calmly, "It's alright, Ichigo. I'm fine, see? It's not bleeding anymore."

He looked up briefly, amber eyes flickering to the wound. "That's not the point. I could have _killed _you, Renji! Don't you see that?"

Not only did he see it; he felt it. But the boy had a sad look in his eyes; helplessness, self-loathing and self-pity, remorse, and a number of other emotions that Renji rarely saw from him. It hurt, the shinigami only being able to imagine the way that the experience of being helpless and not able to control his own body must have been tearing the teen apart. "It's fine, Ichigo. It was nothing, just a freak accident."

"I could have done something." Ichigo murmured almost monotonously, "I...I let my guard down; I thought it was safe. He hadn't tried anything in so long..." He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to the droplets of blood on his shirt, "I...I don't know why he d-"

"And you don't need to." Renji raised his hand to silence the younger man. "It _wan't your fault_. The sooner you can accept that, the sooner we can get the sleep that we _both _need."

Ichigo stared at the shinigami in utter disbelief. "How can you shake this off as if nothing happened?"

"Because compared to what _could_ have happened, this was just a paper cut." Renji could tell that the abrupt rise of volume in his voice was making the boy uncomfortable, so he backed off momentarily and sighed, "You saw how I looked, after that-" an uncomfortable pause, then, "That hollow attacked me. And I've been through a hell of a lot worse than that, so this," He gestured to the wound, "This is nothing."

He could find some truth and consolation in Renji's words, and used that to comfort himself and murmur, "Yeah. Alright; it wasn't me." He saw the tattooed man give a small smile; not a satisfactory one, but a tender curve of the lips as if he were forgiving the boy for what he was silently still blaming himself for. "You...you want me to clean that up for you?"

Renji's smile widened, his hand pulling the cloth from his cut. "Would ya? Never was very good with patchin' up wounds myself, 'specially not my own." He was happy to see that, at least on the outside, Ichigo was letting the blame fall from him and onto his hollow, where it rightly belonged.

Ichigo wasn't paying too much attention, but working almost mechanically as he tried his best to figure out what was going on. It all seemed like a terrible, gut-wrenching dream, eerily similar to the one he had experienced only hours before. But unlike that, _this _hadn't been a dream. He knew Renji wouldn't lie to him, but he also knew that his companion wouldn't do anything to make a situation seem gravely serious, even if it was.

He hesitantly walked back out into the bedroom, still confused as to how the other could be so nonchalant about a near death experience. He set a bowl of water down onto the bedside table and dunked a towel into the clear liquid. He pulled it out, partially due to the sudden chill of the water, wrung it over the bowl, and gently wiped off the blood smears around the wound.

Renji sat on the edge of the mattress, completely motionless, watching the young boy carefully. In all honesty, he didn't fear either Ichigo or whatever it was inside of him, even though he knew that he had every reason to be. And it was beyond him as to why he harbored no fear, even after the attack. He wasn't fearless, that was the plain truth, but yet he felt no apprehension.

_Because I know I have to stay, _Renji silently concluded. He couldn't leave now, not even if he had wanted to. Ichigo would have completely wasted away had he not decided to help and collect the shattered remnants of the boy's life. Renji loved him more than anything, and wouldn't have left even if his captain had directly ordered him to. And especially with their recently-discovered feelings for each other, it would only be all that harder for them to separate.

"I'm sorry." Ichigo muttered again, taking out a clean roll of white bandages and wrapping them around the men's chest. He was expecting the same speech about how none of this had been his fault, but instead felt a warm hand rest upon the top of his head.

"You're not going to stop blaming yourself for this, are you?" Renji paused, not necessarily looking for an answer, and continued, "I can't make you see that none of this was you, that none of these wounds were yours. But you can at least stop apologizing for something that wasn't your fault. I told you this after your parents died; hell, I told you this five minutes ago; you are _not _the one to blame."

"Do you really mean that, Renji?" Ichigo asked, tying the knot that kept the strips of white cloth from slipping off his tattooed shoulders. "I don't want to believe a lie that you told me just so I would stop blaming myself."

"I mean this, kid. I really do." He grinned and punched himself in the chest, trying his best not to wince. "See? Better already, thanks to you."

"Fool. That did hurt." There was a strange sense of comfort that the company of the crimson-haired shinigami brought upon him, and Ichigo could already feel the stress, apprehension, and fear slowly dissolve away. Or, at the very least, begin to be pushed towards the back of his mind.

Renji yawned deeply and looked over at the alarm clock. "Christ almighty, it's only four-thirty in the morning. And it's a _Sunday_. Don't know 'bout you, but I'm goin' back to sleep."

Ichigo silently laid down on the bed, a solid foot of distance between the two. He was still dazed, confused, and the fear of loosing control began to creep over him again. His body suddenly went rigid again as he turned on his side, his back facing the tattooed man. The train of thought and the careless attitude that he had grown accustomed to having around Renji was going to have to change. He had grown far to lax as far as controlling his hollow went, and it wasn't him who had paid for it.

He had felt so safe around Renji, like nothing could touch him and that they both were invincible. And to a certain extent, it was true; Ichigo knew that his companion would never let any harm befall him if he was nearby, and vice versa. But that comfort, that enigmatic sense of safety that gave him peace of mind, was only true as far as outer threats were concerned. How could he protect Renji from himself?

Renji looked over his shoulder and studied the boy with curious eyes. What was disturbing him even more than the fact that he had just been attacked was how the aftershock was probably going to effect Ichigo. The boy had just lost his family and was still blaming himself for that, so he could only imagine how this would make him feel. He didn't want the teen to blame himself, but he couldn't very well force him _not_ to.

He turned over slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements or noises, and waited. He watched and waited, a combination that he normally couldn't stand. He wasn't watching for any abnormalities in the orange-haired shinigami or in his reiatsu, but just _watching_. The realization struck him that he was trying to figure out what to do. He wanted to comfort the boy more than anything else, but knew that he would need his space.

Reaching out, Renji let his hand ghost over Ichigo's shoulder and down his arm, the contact virtually unnoticeable. He let his hand rest on the boy's waist, but gently pulled back when he felt every muscle in his body clench together and his breathing pause briefly. _No, not now. He just needs his space and some time, _Renji observed.

An hour passed, and the tattooed man was still wide awake, staring at the young man's back. He could tell that the boy was asleep, but it was obviously not a peaceful one by the way he was twitching and whispering inaudible words. He rolled onto his back with, much to Renji's dismay, a pained and sorrowful expression on his face. He looked guilt-plagued and tortured even when he was supposed to be at peace, and that made the man hate the other soul that inhabited his companion's body even more.

He propped himself up on his elbow and watched for a brief but torturous moment the way the teen's face twisted in displeasure and his brow furrow in frustration and pain. Renji placed a large but calming hand on Ichigo's forehead and began to gently stroke his brow. Leaning close, he whispered softly, "It's alright, Ichigo. I'm here, so you've got nothing to worry about. I won't let anything happen to you."

"I'm...sorry...Renji." The shinigami representative mumbled in his sleep, his lips barely moving.

"Don't be." His companion murmured, positive that, even though he was asleep, the boy could still hear him. "You've got nothing to feel guilty about. Rest easy, kid; I'm right here next to ya."

Renji couldn't remember when he turned from a hard-ass vice-captain into a compassionate softy, but he didn't mind his own change of face. It was a nice bit of tenderness that they had both needed, and that Ichigo appreciated. But tenderness wouldn't be enough to help the boy recover, and Renji knew that very well. All he would be able to do was hold him and tell him that it would be alright, that everything would work out. He knew it wouldn't be enough to kill the pain, but if he could at least dull it, he would do that much.


End file.

Bleach, Drama, Romance