Chapter 3: Saving the World

Oh god - it hurts - please, somebody - anybody….

The Hollow pinning Isane to the bloody floor pulsed :glee: and :hunger: at her, nibbling its way along one of her tentacles like a fastidious diner might an undercooked strand of spaghetti.

It burns….

Desperate, she reached deep for that sense of other, of snow-

Trying, keened the fading frost in her soul. Hurts… dry… dust….

Tessai was buried in his own swarm of bodies. His pain and helpless anger sluiced like acid down her spine. He couldn't help her.

And she could hear the eerie hum that was the transport pad charging.

Teeth bit deeper, worrying out another scream. :Give up, little-death. We win. We eat you… eat everyone!:

She couldn't reach to claw it. She couldn't throw it off - god only knew who it had been, but it weighed as much as three of Tessai put together. She couldn't even slash it; those tentacles not burning in agony were snared in barbed coils, so the monster could take its time.

And the hum was building.

Fight, whispered the chill inside. But it was tired. So tired. And she hurt so much….

Something clinked and rolled. She recognized the ping of hardened Pyrex glass, a scent of distilled alcohol and hot metal-

Fire bloomed, flickering yellow and blue, licking at Isane in spots of splashed liquid. Agony - yet blissful relief, as teeth let go and her tormentor shrieked.

"Knock, knock!" Urahara called over the chaos. "Hello, it's us!"

They're here. Relief did what torment hadn't, fading the world to gray.

My-Isane! Ally-here. Pack-here. Stay awake!

But the chill was slipping down with her, into the endless dark. Sorry, Isane whispered to that odd, snowy sister in her mind. I tried.

:Pack! Help us! Help….:

Black.

Next time I go undercover to investigate a super-secret, deniable project, Ryuuken thought darkly, rushing through the lab doors just behind the rest of the strike team, I demand a flamethrower!

Tentacles. Blood. Melting ice, chunks of melting carcasses. A woman's limp body on the floor, lit by dying alcohol flames. More Hollows, a waving sea of tentacles, swarming through the gaping hole where the vent should have been. And over it all, a sound he could only adequately describe as an ominous hum.

Gunfire erupted ahead and behind him; most of the team focusing on trying to hold back the swarm, while Kaien worked with Isshin to snipe any Hollow coming down their back-trail. Ryuuken held his own fire, searching-

There. By what had to be the transport controls. A knot of bodies, glimpses of white and brown fur, and the blond blur that was Kisuke squirming through the midst of it to tear at the panels covering advanced circuitry.

But are they trying to stop the Hollows - or help them?

He hadn't dared mention the possibility to Masaki. She was a scientist, true. Rational. Intelligent. But she was also deeply in love with her husband, idiot or not. The idea that he might have become a creature none of them could trust - no. Ryuuken couldn't risk that she would not hear it.

So he'd waited. And watched. He had to be sure.

Isshin was still shoulder to shoulder with his cousin, watching over the unconscious striker, holding open their line of retreat. Kyouraku and Ukitake were bloody and tiring, but wouldn't stop, holding back the razor-edged blurs of Hollows surging off the transport pad as Kisuke disemboweled the console. And Tsukabishi and the woman were dead or dying, having obviously gone down fighting rather than let the Hollows escape.

Hell with the cover. "Sergeant."

"What?"

Tetchy. He really couldn't blame the man. Ammo was getting low, the Hollows seemed to be endless, and Cournoyer had just made an odd noise that didn't sound good at all.

Fingers opening the hidden pocket in his cuff, Ryuuken let the small cross drop into his hand. "I'm afraid the general is just going to have to live without his tech-toy."

Halfway in trance, he reached for white fire.

We can't let them out.

Hughes went through the proper motions in a numb fury, following orders even when the general had them wrap those damn cocoons in sheets, strap them to hand-trucks, and haul them up to the surface. They'd be just as easy to destroy here as down in the shelter; easier, if you shoved them into the path of a shuttle's exhaust. The object, after all, was to get that madwoman - mad thing - out of the shuttle cockpit. If a little empty posturing got them closer to that goal, he'd live with it.

Only now it seemed as if Yamamoto-Genryuusai was actually listening to the creature.

"…I could give you argument after argument, General, but it all boils down to this," the purple monster stated grimly. "We don't know if we contained all the Hollows that were created outside the base. We don't know if that was the only asteroid carrying that virus. Doesn't it make sense to give those of us who have dealt with the Hollows at least a chance to prove we're safe?"

The general tapped his fingers against an armrest in the shuttle they'd ensconced themselves in - temporarily, the ship was already over safe lifting capacity. They needed the monster's shuttle. "Isolation for the foreseeable future."

"Get us some qualified medics, we can live with that," came the swift reply.

"Dr. Shiba has his M.D., last I checked," the general said dryly. "And you'll have Mr. Yamada when he wakes up."

"Hanatarou?" It faked relief well. "That'll help, but you know he only finished paramedic training four months ago. And Isshin hasn't worked on anything bigger than mice for years. I grant you we look like a vet would be more help than a doctor, General, but please." The voice took on a hint of growl. "After all, you're going to need them too. We took the same vaccine. Do you really think your superiors won't slam you into quarantine with us?"

No!

Hughes lost the rest of the conversation in a haze of pure, visceral terror. To be confined with that, that temptress in disgusting form, with those… to be poked and prodded and assessed like one of Shiba's lab mice, by people who would think they were no better than these monsters….

I'm not a monster.

He'd had to eject Kyouraku - what had been Kyouraku - from their shelter. Of course he had. It was a matter of safety. Of humanity. The man might have been Hughes' 2IC, but he was a monster now.

And I'm not.

Of course not. None of the survivors - the real survivors - were. But they'd be treated just the same, if he did nothing.

It was the work of moments to step into the next compartment and give the appropriate orders. He didn't need to ask the general. This was a matter of security.

They had to seal the base anyway, before the thermite charges were ignited, to pump in the general's requested precautionary measure: Thanosine, a gas that should be lethal to anything that breathed oxygen. Which included the Hollows. This would just be sealing it a little… early.

A pity about Petrillo's team. But odds were, they were infected already.

Now, about those cocoons….

Going to grab that idiot Ishida and paint him with polka-dots, Isshin thought groggily, trying to shake off the feeling of having been dropped inside a bell and rung. He'd glimpsed white fire out of the corner of his eye, :felt: the tremor of concentrated force streaking toward the console and transport pad-

And then psychokinesis had hit stored energy, and the world had gone berserk.

A Quincy. PSWAT sent in a Quincy.

On the one hand, it was a good indication of how seriously PSWAT had taken the project's apparent financial sleight of hand. On the other - it'd have been nice to know they had serious firepower before they'd tried to hack their way in here.

Though on the bright side, what Hollows hadn't been killed in the blasts seemed to be exiting the lab at speed. Which meant-

Isshin grabbed for Kaien, patting him down with frantic haste.

"What the- hey!"

"Did they get you?"

"No!" Kaien scrabbled to his feet. "I'm good. I'm fine. Why?'

"Because they're leaving!" Which didn't make sense with potential victims still in the room. Not unless fear had somehow overridden that horrible gaping loneliness-

:Hunger.:

Small, fast; Isshin flung up an arm to block even as he jumped between it and Kaien-

Toothed. Squishy. About the length of a man's forearm, with no visible eyes and only stubby new tentacles to scrape at his skin. But definitely a Hollow.

Isshin throttled the slug-like creature one-handed, wracking his brain for what it might have been and where it had possibly come from-

Cournoyer's corpse rippled again, and another Hollow-slug thrashed free of the gaping hole in his abdomen.

"Son of a-"

"Mother-fucking-"

"Hell!"

Lightning, a blast of wind, and gunfire slammed into it at once. Urahara threw another fiery alcohol cocktail into the body for good measure.

The shrill screaming from the flames made everyone shrink back.

"…This is probably a bad time to remember Cournoyer had a multiple transplant a year or so back, isn't it," Kaien said numbly.

"Cross-MHC?" Isshin asked, just as stunned. Hospitals could do that, these days; trick a body into leaving donated organs alone, where pre-exploration medicine would have discarded them as hopelessly mistyped. A useful trick, when you didn't have time or money to grow cloned tissue.

"Yep."

He probably got hit when Yumichika did, and didn't even know. Isshin shuddered. It got into his bloodstream, and… ate him from the inside.

Chalk another one up on the list of nasty viral tricks. He was going to be screaming himself awake with nightmares, he just knew it.

If we live that long.

Ikkaku shook his head and stepped back toward them, gray as old-fashioned newsprint. "We done here, Sarge?"

Petrillo visibly swallowed. "Dr. Urahara?"

"Well and truly trashed," Kisuke grunted, levering up a blinking, bloody Tessai. Yards away Shunsui had already hefted a moaning Isane over his shoulders, biting his lip at the blood still welling from her tentacle. "I couldn't rebuild it with the stuff left in here."

"Good. Any more surprises, Agent Ishida?"

"…Room's spinning, make it stop…."

"I can take him," Tessai said quietly, wincing as he wrapped a torn arm around the wobbling Quincy's shoulders.

"Good. 'Cause we're going to need everybody who can still shoot anything." The sergeant straightened his shoulders. "We've got two civilians to pick up, and then we are out of here." He swept a glare over all of them impartially. "And this time, everybody sticks to the plan, or I'm going to shoot you! Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sarge!"

You have to trust him. Yoruichi stared at the hatch, fingers trembling as she lifted them to the bolts. The general gave his word.

Walking out of the cockpit was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

Yamamoto-Genryuusai and five other security personnel met her a compartment down. In the background she heard other refugees being escorted into the rearward areas, fear rolling off them in waves. "Dr. Shihouin."

"General," she acknowledged, glad of the shirt she'd borrowed off the uncomfortable male pilot. The general was a lot easier to deal with when he felt he was being treated with proper dignity.

"This will be the last shuttle to leave." His face was grave, with no hint of apology. "We'll wait as long as reasonably possible for survivors."

"General-"

"It's a long way from the lab, Shihouin. Face reality."

Reality meant the others might not make it out. That Kisuke might not.

No. This is Kisuke. And Isshin. And Masaki. The universe is going to have to come up with something a lot worse than man-eating recombinant monsters to take them down.

So why did she feel so cold?

And suddenly colder, as if an unseen flame had flickered out.

"We'll wait with you," the general said, more kindly.

Flicker. And the world was colder, with a fading flash of-

:Fear. Pain. Confusion….:

So cold.

"Shihouin?"

Shivering, Yoruichi glanced up. "Where are the others? The cocoons," she elaborated, when the general tried to look blandly oblivious.

"Colonel Hughes is taking care of them."

:Fear pain help!:

And nearby, another flame guttered out.

She hit the compartment door, glad no one shot at her.

"Shihouin!"

"We have to stop him!"

Behind her Yoruichi heard the general suddenly barking orders. She didn't listen, focusing on :fear: and :pain: and :trying to hide, why is he-?:

Around one of the shuttles. Inside the security perimeter, but out of casual view. A stench of gunpowder and fluids and blood. Spots of red in desert dust, leading to :panic: and :grief: and a desperate young paramedic scrabbling behind the laughable shelter of a hand-truck-

Yoruichi twisted the silenced pistol to fire into the ground, feeling bones snap. He might have screamed. She couldn't hear it past the roaring in her ears.

Dead. You're dead, Hughes. I trusted you and I trusted the general and now they're dead-

Hurt-ours, killed-ours, enemy! Enemy! Kill!

And she was on him, she had him, tentacles wrapping around whole and shattered arms. All she had to do was squeeze-

Tentacles. I have tentacles. Like the Hollows.

I'm venomous.

If I break the skin-

Yoruichi threw him to the ground, keening grief and betrayal. Stood there, quivering, as the general's men grabbed the moaning colonel.

Kill him! the lightning-shadow in her mind demanded. Enemy, killed kin, kill!

No. Oh god, she wanted to. But that would give the general no choice but to kill her. She wouldn't do that to Kisuke. She wouldn't.

And she could still :feel: Hanatarou's shock, pierced through with a sickening burn that was really, really starting to hurt….

Live-kin. The pressure in Yoruichi's mind eased. Help cub.

She looked away from the carnage on the ground, walked over to where a white-faced Hanatarou had one hand pressed against bloodied ribs. "Looks like he grazed you," she said, voice rough. "Let's get you patched up."

"I couldn't stop him," Hanatarou whispered. "I felt them… I tried…."

"I know you did." Just waking up, strapped down inside his own chrysalis - he'd been lucky as it was just to move fast enough to dodge the shot. Mostly. The others…. "Look at me, Hanatarou. You're the paramedic. Don't go into shock on me. Just breathe, and look at me."

"But why?" Not quite a whimper. :Alone, don't want to be alone, we didn't hurt him but he took kin away-!:

:Not-alone,: Yoruichi willed at him fiercely, feeling the pulse of his presence like a warming fire. :Won't leave you!:

"Why," Yamamoto-Genryuusai growled, "indeed."

"You can't stop now, General," Hughes gasped out. "You can't. It's just those two now. If they're gone, there won't be any questions!"

The general eyed him as if he'd crawled out from under a rock. "Oh, there will be questions. At your court-martial!"

"What do you mean, just us now?" Yoruichi cut off the oncoming tirade.

A frightened glance at her, and Hughes pressed his lips together.

The general's fists clenched. He straightened his shoulders, and switched on one of the radios the rescue team had brought with them. "This is Yamamoto-Genryuusai. I want to know all the orders Colonel Hughes has given in the past hour!"

"Well." Kisuke Urahara rapped his knuckles on the bulkhead sealing off the escape tunnel from the inside of the shelter. Considering metal thickness, composition, potential weaknesses (too damn few)… and the mindset that had sealed it in the first place. "This doesn't look good."

"Hughes what?" Sergeant Petrillo's voice rang across the shelter. "Son of a- With all due respect, General, you'd better have him under guard, or- Yes. I copy." He listened for what seemed ages. "…Got it. I'll tell them. Give us some time to consider our options." He clicked off the channel. Took a deep breath. "Given what we all went through to get here, people, I know you're not going to flip out on me now. So I'm not going to sugarcoat it. We've been screwed. Big time."

Kisuke glanced at his friends and coworkers. Isshin was twined around Masaki, travel-cages of scared mice set on the floor in front of them, duffles and improvised packs stuffed with samples and lab data still on their backs. The blonde had Toushirou half-nestled into her left shoulder, stroking white tendrils from one side as an exhausted Juushirou knelt by the other. Kyouraku was still on his feet, barely, leaning on the analyst's shoulder as his glance flicked over the shelter's air vents. Isane was awake, though she looked like she regretted it, standing with just a little waver by a glum Tessai and weary Ryuuken. And Kaien and Madarame were busy appropriating a dropcloth from a storage closet to wrap Ayasegawa in. A haze of amber was slowly seeping out of the striker's skin, which meant they had maybe a half-hour leeway before bare skin contact might be lethal.

"Good news is, there's still a shuttle up there for us, if we can get out. Bad news…." The sergeant grimaced, and shook close-cropped dark hair. "Don't know all the details yet, but seems your colonel cracked, Major."

Kyouraku gave them a wry grin. "Just when you think the day can't get any better."

"General says he and Dr. Shihouin caught the bastard before he could pump down the Thanosine," Petrillo went on bluntly.

Yoruichi's alive? Kisuke glanced at his friends, saw them stand just a hair straighter, drawing strength from the unexpected mercy. We're not doomed. We're not dead yet….

"But both these doors and the surface hatch are locked down. They could hack it if they had time…."

"But we don't," Kisuke said matter-of-factly, tamping down that wash of pure relief. Yoruichi's alive! "While the majority of the thermite charges are set inside the main entrance to the lab, a significant fraction are in the escape corridor, set to blow a big hole down to the main air circulation chamber and pump superheated gas through our ventilation system. Enough to melt the whole place down. And he's set the timers."

Petrillo stared at him. "How did you-?"

"He's a genius," Kaien said flippantly.

It happened to be true. "Do we have any idea how much time?" Kisuke asked.

"He's not talking," the sergeant said dryly. "Not even when the general offered to have Shihouin give him a big hug." A slight shrug. "So we better assume it's not much." He glanced over them all again. "Okay. What do we have, and what do we need?"

Toushirou snorted. "We have locked doors. We need a way out."

"Cute kid," Ikkaku muttered. "Laugh a minute."

"Why, you-!"

"Frostbite later, solutions now," Juushirou murmured, catching the boy's hand.

Frostbite. Kisuke tucked that glimmer of idea to one side, letting it play with the resources he already knew they had.

"Kaien, Madarame, how much have you got?" Petrillo watched their fingers flash, nodded, and looked back at the hatch. Frowned, calculating. Grimaced. "We can take down one door. Not two. Or…." He stared at Ryuuken. "We can use half of what we've got, weaken it, and let our Quincy take it down."

Pale, Ryuuken shook his head. "I don't think-"

"Agent Ishida. We need you for this." Sergeant Petrillo gave him a grim smile. "Besides, for a Quincy who could let off a blast like that, this should be a piece of cake."

"That shouldn't have happened!"

Isshin and Masaki glanced at each other, and nodded, as if that had slotted a key piece into their current biological puzzle. "Fine," Isshin said easily. "Shouldn't have happened. World's nuts anyway. Can you do it again?"

Ryuuken took a deep breath. "You're going to have to carry me out of here."

"Done." The sergeant waved his people in, decking the hatch with clay-like green. "Everybody back!"

The snaps were surprisingly quiet, smoke rising with a bitter scent of hot metal. Ryuuken moved forward at the sergeant's beckoning wave, hands shaking. "My training was focused more on fragile targets than heavy demolition."

Fragile, Kisuke knew, as in electronics - and people. The government didn't like to advertise that Quincys were generally best used as covert snipers.

"Bolt spreads out on impact, right?" the sergeant asked. "I want you to aim right… there."

Whoa. I can actually feel that.

Outside of a momentary shimmer, Quincy psychokinetic bolts were supposed to be undetectable to human senses. But this… this was a gathering storm, the breathless instant before lethal hail-

White fire flew.

For a long moment, metal only shivered. Then one side of the hatch sagged, and a gust of dust-flavored air sighed in. A minute's prying, and the door was done.

And so's Ryuuken.

He was out cold on the floor, limp as a dead man. Still breathing, but barely twitching, even when Isane pinched the back of his hand. Petrillo glared down at the man, as if only Toushirou's ears kept him from peeling off some paint.

"Anybody have an idea how we can put the door back after we get through?" Kyouraku said, too casually.

Isane went white. "No…."

Kisuke traded a glance with Tessai, and knew he wasn't imagining that brush of :hunger.: He wasn't surprised to see Isshin had already gotten Masaki, Toushirou, and the unconscious striker through the gap. "They're in the shelter's air supply."

"No, I don't think so," Kyouraku said judiciously. "But they will be." He picked up Juushirou bodily, arm and tentacles wrapped around the slighter man. "Hope you've got the oomph for one more shot, 'Shirou. We're going to need a spot-weld."

"It won't hold long," Kisuke warned as they scrambled into the corridor.

"They're throwing Quincy blasts," Madarame growled. "Think we get the picture."

"It wouldn't, even if they weren't," Kisuke said plainly. "I'm a materials scientist. I know these alloys."

"So what the hell do we do?"

"Buy time," Petrillo grunted, gripping twisted metal to wrest it back into place. Glanced over his shoulder. "Ukitake. Be very careful throwing those sparks around."

Kisuke followed his gaze, and felt his stomach twist at the sight of military-olive canisters, each decorated with a digital timer. Sometimes, I really hate being right.

Scientists and soldiers held the hatch in place, and a pale Juushirou swept a hand along the seam, whispering under his breath. Sparks sizzled, oddly like Ryuuken's white fire, tracking their way down….

"Stop," Kyouraku ordered, with black weld still a foot from closing the gap.

Juushirou wavered on his feet. "I can-"

"If we have to carry one more guy, and fight, we're toast," Petrillo said bluntly. "Major says you're done. Let's move."

"Why the hell couldn't the genius who designed this place put in an elevator?" Madarame panted, helping Kaien manhandle the unconscious Quincy up the long, curving up-slope of the corridor, slowing now and then to stay a few careful feet behind Isshin carrying Ayasegawa.

"Elevator?" Kaien said pointedly. "As in, something that might need power, when you've already got an emergency?"

Madarame grumbled something rude under his breath. "Monsters are gonna have a straight line right to us…."

"Sorry," Kisuke said with forced lightness. "I had in mind earthquakes. Tsunamis. Dust storms. Fusion generator meltdowns. Man-eating monsters completely slipped my mind." Despite the situation, he had to grin. "I'll be sure to make a note for next time."

Isshin's chuckle floated back, warming as a mug of hot soup in winter. He still believes in me. Even after all this.

It was humbling, to know you meant that much to your friends.

A last turn, and Kisuke shivered at the charges scattered around the sealed door. End of the line.

There was actually one more door past this. A more flimsy construction, meant to hide the surface exit, shield the inside from the massive temperature changes of the desert surface, and provide an airlock of sorts. But if he knew Yoruichi, she'd already torn that out by main force. They were so close.

But this door's stronger than the last one. This is the last defense. The final barrier, between whatever hell we unleashed in these labs and the rest of the planet.

Why had he had to design things so well?

"All right, people," Petrillo stated without hesitation, "you know the drill-"

"Wait," Kisuke said hurriedly, fragments of idea coalescing into possibility. "What if we cause a temperature differential?"

"English, damn it!"

"You're short on explosives," Isshin said quickly. "We need to make the door more fragile."

Masaki snapped her fingers. "Like a frost heave!"

Isane shook her head, wan. "I'm sorry. I've been trying… it's so dry…."

She's cryokinetic too? Interesting. "Not you," Kisuke said cheerfully, and pointed at alarmed green eyes. "Him."

Petrillo's brows bounced up in the clearest are you crazy? Kisuke had seen since the time he'd sabotaged an entire organic chemistry lab. Kaien's eye-roll and grin was almost a match for his cousin's: yes, he is, get over it.

Toushirou rubbed his palms on the scrubs Masaki had hastily cut down to his size. "She's right. It's really dry…." He gulped, and looked up. "What do I do?"

Kisuke swiveled his finger to Petrillo. "And here's where you get to give the Ph.D. a lesson on just how your stuff blows things up."

"We should open the door."

General Yamamoto-Genryuusai eyed the woman quivering beside him as they waited behind readied guns, trying not to react to the purple hair, extra limbs, or equally over-armed young paramedic clinging to her side. Though honestly, he couldn't blame Yamada. The young man might not be quite human anymore, but executing people in the equivalent of their sickbeds was beyond the pale for any officer. "We unlocked the door. That's risky enough."

"The Hollows could be right behind them!"

"Precisely," the general agreed in clipped tones. "In case you hadn't noticed, most of our security is unvaccinated. I will not let those creatures escape this base!"

Shihouin stared at him, inhuman gold unblinking. Finally narrowed her eyes, and looked away. "If they make it out-"

"We follow the original plan, set off the thermite by remote, and shoot anything that crawls out." Did she have to be so twitchy? It'd be far easier to ignore the… obvious, if that purple fur weren't curling-

Her head snapped up, moments before something thumped. The general blinked as wisps of air visibly steamed out into the desert, as if someone had somehow cast the inside into deepest winter. Opening the strike team's channel, he eyed the immobile door. "Sergeant, what in blazes-?"

"Hang on, General, we almost-" Metallic banging, and a low curse. "Ah, negative on that extraction for now. Closing this channel, we need to improvise."

"Sergeant, how much time do you have?"

Click.

Clinging to Yamada's hand, Shihouin gazed at the door in horror.

"Five minutes, people. Any ideas?" The sergeant was grim, but steady. Kind of like a depressed rock, Kisuke thought flippantly, trying to remember to breathe. Panic wouldn't help them. It wouldn't.

He was a genius. His friends were counting on him. He'd gotten them this far-

His mind was blank.

And there was the faintest sound of scrabbling, at the edge of hearing.

They're through the door.

"'Shirou's out, both of them," Kyouraku said bluntly, helping the analyst sit against the wall by Tessai as he glanced at the boy out cold in Masaki's arms. "Rest of us are tapped out. It's going to have to be you two."

"With what?" Isshin snapped. "Don't you think if we could do anything, we'd have done it by now?"

"I don't think you've been scared enough yet."

Which was ridiculous. Really. They'd been fighting for their lives, and- why was the major advancing on them?

"I know you two." Kyouraku's voice was quiet. Deadly. "I know how you work. I know how you think. You're cool. Calm. Always in control. Because what you work with isn't guns, and it doesn't go boom - but it's still dangerous, and it could hurt people, and that's the last thing you want to do. And emotions aren't what you want in science. You want theories, and data, and that icy judgment that lets you drop a bad line of inquiry like it went radioactive. No matter how much you want it to work. Because what you want can't matter."

Kisuke tried to take another step back, and hit the wall. A yard away Isshin did the same, herded in by a stone-faced sergeant and apologetic cousin.

"I know you. I've been :listening: to you." The pulse rolled over them like snowmelt, clean and clear where the Hollows were icy sewage. "And while you've been listening to us, and the Hollows - neither of you have been projecting more than a whisper." Kyouraku stalked into Kisuke's space until the materials scientist was pressed against Isshin's shoulder; stopped, and shook his head. "Funny thing is, I don't have to scare you. You scare you more than I ever could. 'Cause you both know just enough to realize there's something inside you that's straight out of your nightmares. Something that doesn't care about science, or data, or rationality. Something that wants to live. To kill its enemies. But most of all - it wants out."

"Don't do this," Kisuke got out. "Please." Because he could almost imagine Kyouraku was right; that there was something stirring in his mind, hot and angry….

"I'm sorry," Kyouraku said gravely. "I really am. But we are not going to die here." He took another step forward, face bare inches from their own, dark strands rising-

The world whited out.

:Pack needs you. All of you.

:Death is here. Life is outside.

:Masaki needs you. Yoruichi needs you.

:Other-self is not enemy. Wants to help. Wants to live.

:This is how you reach, and strike….:

All Kisuke could see was blood.

Shh….

Like crimson talons of fingernails wrapped about him, elegant and gentle even as they yearned to draw blood. So much anger.

Abandoned. Betrayed. Almost died. Why not be angry?

Because… his anger wasn't like other people's. Not like Yoruichi's, a flash and then gone; not like the people he saw yell and scream at each other in meetings, in soccer matches, in just about any ordinary day. It was like Isshin's. Deep as the sea. Wide as a solar system. Old as a child's first realization that there were people who hated him, utterly, for no other reason than that he could think rings around them. So he covered it, and he chained it down, and if it ever got loose-

Fear later. Live now. Trust me, Kisuke. Anger shifted within him, turned fey and strange; incandescent, breathless as dawn. Let me sing. Let me fly!

The taste of blood receded, mingling with a clear, crisp crackle of fire. Familiar fire. Isshin.

From what seemed like an endless distance, he heard the sergeant's unease. "Major…."

"What am I doing? No clue whatsoever," Shunsui said easily. "Too late to worry now." Friendly hands and tentacles seized their shoulders, turned them toward the-

Enemy!

-Battered door. Hands left them, just long enough to slip the crystalline strength of steel into their grip. "I promise," Shunsui said softly. "I promise I'll stop you before you hurt anyone. Let go."

Beside him Kisuke felt Isshin murmuring something. It was lost in the trembling eagerness inside him, a fluttering like butterfly wings and silken robes and the leap of his heart at Yoruichi's smile.

Eagerness that was not dampened, even by oncoming, poisonous hisses. :Little-deaths will not escape-!:

:That's little-death-god to you, you bastards.: "Sing," he whispered, "Benihime."

Spitting out dust, General Yamamoto-Genryuusai got to hands and knees and-

Augh!

Dropped back to roll in pebbled desert clay, extinguishing clothes and hair and smoldering eyebrows.

There'd been no warning. One moment Shihouin had been right beside him, vibrating with the need to open that door-

The next, she'd grabbed Yamada and vanished.

And the world exploded.

Slapping out sparks, the general tried to piece together the last few seconds. There'd been a red glow leaking around the edges of the hatch, a sudden sense of heat-

The doors were gone.

Not shattered. Not melted. Gone.

And there was a seared black gouge in the desert, three feet deep at the doorway, fanning out in a narrow cone almost thirty feet long. If there had been a soldier there - and the general devoutly hoped there hadn't - they were gone too, seared away to nothing but black ash and glittering specks of fused sand.

Petrillo's voice rang out, shaken. "Stop staring and move, people!"

The general let his subordinates handle the details for the next few seconds, confident he'd impressed on them not to shoot just because they saw tentacles. This… this was too important not to see.

Destruction. Incredible destruction, of a kind he'd never seen before. Damage that could not have been caused by any equipment the sergeant's team had brought along… or even a Quincy.

Ever so slowly, he grinned.

Brown, blonde, black, Yoruichi thought frantically, counting the familiar and foreign heads bolting out, looking for one in particular. Bald and black with a chrysalis - huh, I'd swear the young one looks a bit like Isshin. White… white?

Two of them, no less, escorted by Major Kyouraku and a dark-haired military type. Neither looked old… and right behind them was a woman she ought to know, who was silver.

Damn you, Kisuke. You would make it so I can't find you.

:Fury. Delight. Hunting.:

"Oi, Yoruichi!"

She left Hanatarou behind the guns with a smile, a pat on the head, and a silent :Stay!: Flitted past an aghast soldier almost without thinking, heading for where a familiar black head and shocking blond were dodging at speeds even she had trouble following. Steel and hands were harrying and slashing, opening red gashes on a shifting pulse of :Hate! Eat! Kill!:

"Kisuke! Get back and let them shoot it!"

"Shoot what they can't see? Don't think so. Besides-" The blond ducked under a tentacle as a thunder of guns opened up on the gaping doorway. "Taunting this one distracts the ones inside!"

"Distracts them from-"

A dull rumble, and the doorway was filled with fire.

:Pain: burst across Yoruichi's senses like fireworks, echoing out of the base. She stumbled.

:At least kill you-!:

Claws screeched on steel.

"Tell the others," Kisuke said in a low whisper, crouched protectively over her, "you lost."

Red light lashed out with his blade, and the Hollow fell in pieces.

Flames crackled, almost masking her friends' ragged breathing. Yoruichi rolled to her feet. Glanced at Isshin, who was shaking his head as if waking up from a bad dream. Reached out, and put a hand on the blond's trembling shoulder. "Kisuke?"

:Stole your kill. Sorry.: Gray eyes gazed into the flames, searching for more enemies.

Should be sorry, her lightning-shadow grumbled, much to Yoruichi's dismay.

No he shouldn't! It could have killed us… me.

A silent huff. Next time, will be faster.

Yoruichi tried not to roll her eyes. "Kisuke. They're dead. It's over."

"Is it?" He leaned into her, lost. "We don't even know what we are."

"Alive," Isshin said bluntly, steering them both toward a gap in the surrounding soldiers. "And not Hollows. Which beats the hell out of the alternatives." He smiled at Masaki, :hunting: fading into :end of the chase, home with the pack. Rest. Love you.:

:Love you, mine: came the faint echo back, almost lost in the louder drum of :relief: from the others.

Youruichi raised a brow at the blonde responsible, nudged Isshin forward when he almost stopped. "I think you need to have a talk about that vaccine of yours."

"…Yeah." Isshin hugged his wife close, running fingers through long blonde hair. Pushing back just enough to reveal a golden fuzz hidden among the strands, not quite long enough yet to twitch on its own.

"Eep?" Masaki managed.

Taking the bloody sword from Kisuke, Kyouraku lifted an intrigued brow, and poked at the unconscious health inspector over Tessai's shoulder. A few black hairs drifted free, evidently shed in favor of fine white. "Man, is he going to be ticked."

"He's not the only one," Yoruichi chuckled, unable to restrain a dark glee. Sometimes it was utterly amusing to be right.

Except, of course, when being right drew even more misery out of one of her best friends. Yoruichi bit her lip, beckoning Hanatarou back to them, trying to think of what to say to put light back in Kisuke's eyes.

"I thought you, of all people, already knew what we are," Juushirou said easily. "Didn't you tell them? Little death gods."

"Shinigami." Kyouraku grinned, flicking crimson off before he sheathed steel. "I like it."

Isshin snickered. "Which makes these little guys-" he rested a hand on the cages Masaki and the others had set down, projecting :safe, will be moving soon, calm: "-The Grim Squeakers."

That got a tired chuckle out of Kisuke. Masaki groaned, the striker who looked oddly like Isshin cackled, and Juushirou buried giggles in the hand that wasn't holding up the child.

Kyouraku looked at them all with the air of a man who'd unwittingly strayed into a cream-pie fight. "…I'm really going to regret that when someone explains, huh?"

"Aww, but they're so cute!" Hanatarou knelt down by the cages of furballs, fear finally easing off his face.

"Petting zoo later," the military guy in charge stated, not unkindly. "Incoming general, five o'clock."

"Urahara!"

"Ah, how nice to be wanted," Kisuke said wryly.

Singed at the edges, a smoldering Yamamoto-Genryuusai stalked toward them. "Where is the-"

"Gone. Pfft. Up in smoke. Ka-blooey. All you've got is what's in the backup files," Kisuke tapped the side of his head, "and what's in here."

The general scowled. Glared over them all. "Board the shuttle. This is no place to debrief." Turned, and headed back toward uneasy soldiers, barking orders.

"Huh." Juushirou eyed their departing leader. "That was easy."

"Too easy," the biology team - and Major Kyouraku, of all people - chorused as one.

"I don't understand," Hanatarou said, bewildered. "Aren't we supposed to be evacuating?"

"We are, and we will," Masaki nodded. "Help me with the mice? We've stressed the poor things enough as it is; they don't need to stay in this sun."

"And while we're bugging out of here," Major Kyouraku said thoughtfully, "they can fill you in on exactly why the general really ought to be more ticked off."

Yoruichi followed his gaze, frowning at the black scorch their final escape attempt had left on the desert. That's what he thinks has the general worried? Why would-

They were out of explosives, she realized. How did they do that?

And why did it feel like… like when I made that lock open….

Yoruichi swallowed dryly, following the others with a sinking unease. Kisuke was right. It wasn't over.

So what do we do now?

Something warm shifted against Juushirou's left shoulder, knocking into the side of his jaw. The analyst roused himself enough to tuck Toushirou's sleeping head more comfortably against his chest, and sank back against the compartment wall, letting the shuttle's vibration lull him back to-

"So maybe you can see the problem we've got here," Shunsui said quietly.

"Think so," Petrillo admitted. "But maybe you could spell it out…."

"Problem?" Juushirou said softly, looking up at the two military men. "What problem?"

"No problem," his friend said easily. "Go back to sleep."

"Sleep?" Juushirou said in disbelief. Most of the others were asleep, he didn't have to look to feel that; though Kaien and Madarame were muttering something over Ayasegawa's tarp-wrapped cocoon, and Isshin was still drowsily conscious, stroking the wife he'd almost lost. "You're worried." :Worried for us; worried for pack. Threat? Where? Hunt, kill, bluff?:

"I'm worried, and the first thing you ask me is what needs killing." Shunsui slapped himself in the forehead. "Oh, Houston, we definitely have a problem."

"See what you mean," the sergeant said wryly.

"What problem?" Juushirou asked again, still keeping his voice down, no matter how irritated he was starting to feel. Honestly, was it that hard a question?

"Well." Shunsui tilted his head, dark eyes thoughtful. "Might be stating the obvious, 'Shirou, but we killed a lot of people today."

"Yes, I suppose we did," Juushirou admitted. "You think that will be a problem? They were Hollows. And trying to eat us."

Shunsui blinked. Shook his head. "So… you don't feel bad about it."

"Well, it's sad," Juushirou stated, wondering why his friend felt so wary. "I wish they hadn't been infected. That we'd been able to save them." He closed his eyes, trying to shut out visions of fear and blood. "I wish none of it had ever happened." But facts were facts. He'd made a life out of accepting reality, and he wasn't about to start denying it now. :Pack is alive. Enemies dead. Breathing. Not-alone. With you. Glad.:

"Yeah, glad to be with you too, partner," Shunsui smiled. :Kin. Home in the pack.: "But - and like I said, I know this is obvious - 'Shirou, you tore one of those Hollows apart with your bare hands."

"A sword would have been a lot easier," Juushirou acknowledged. "I need to find out where to get one…." Words trailed off, as sudden, horrid realization crashed down. "I should be upset," he said carefully. "I killed people. I should feel… awful…."

"No!" Shunsui said fiercely, gripping his shoulder. "Hell, no! You did what you had to do. You did what kept us alive. You should feel glad to be alive. I am. We all are."

Juushirou nodded slowly, taking in what he could :feel: from the others-

The rest of the pack, murmured waves and thunder in his soul. Our pack.

"We are," Juushirou agreed. "All of the pack. We're alive, and we trust each other to make sure we stay that way. That's why we can sleep, even after seeing what Hughes did. It hurts, but we have to rest, in case someone like him tries it again. And… we know we're not all asleep, that some of us are still watching." He met Petrillo's gaze. "That's not normal, is it?"

"For civilians? No," the sergeant said bluntly. "Pretty common in strikers. Protect your own. Kill the enemy. Walk on."

"So it's not just physical. We're… not the same anymore." Juushirou glanced at them both. "And… I'm not upset. I think I should be worried about that." He looked Petrillo in the eye, unflinching. "We need help, don't we?"

"Hell, I don't think so," Petrillo snorted. "I think I like you guys just fine. But if you want to pass for regular civvies? Yeah, you need somebody to show you the ropes." He stood, languid as a panther. "Speaking of. Dr. Shiba?"

Blinking, Isshin looked up, and disentangled himself from Masaki to meet them by the cocoon. "If you're asking for a definite yes or no on Ayasegawa, I can't give you one until we can grab an ultrasound and peek inside. But the chrysalis is amber, not gray, and if you shine a light right you can see him still in there. A Hollow would be lysing tissue right now, pretty much breaking the whole body down to rebuild. I think your guy lucked out."

"Lucked out, like you guys." Madarame rubbed his bald head, and sighed. Pushed back his sleeve, baring the inside of his wrist. "Okay."

Isshin drew back. "Um-"

"Hey, you never know," the striker said, mock-casual. "I coulda got bit the same time the others did. Or sometime in that big mess we scrambled through getting out. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"Ikkaku." The sergeant looked deadly serious. "You sure about this?"

Madarame nodded toward the cocoon. "That's my partner, Sarge."

Petrillo inclined his head. Turned that same stern gaze on Isshin. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Isshin said bluntly. "That's what worries me." Taking out the spray injector, he pressed it over the large veins in the striker's wrist. "You might want to sit down. And get undressed."

"What, you don't think I'll end up like the Quincy?" Madarame tried to look cocky as he jerked a thumb toward Ishida.

"The way the Hollows were after you? No." Deliberately, Isshin stored the injector away. "There's something about you and Kaien. A feel… maybe a scent, mammals can pick up MHCs by smell sometimes, and if that's what the virus keys on… whatever. I like that you're here. I think I like it a little too much." He gave his cousin a worried look. "Kaien - you're not safe."

Kaien rolled his eyes. "Isshin, come on…."

"He's right," Juushirou said soberly. "You're not safe. You feel as though you should be here. But you don't belong. Not yet." He swallowed dryly. "But we could fix that. And we know it."

"Everybody, just calm down," Shunsui ordered. "We're sane, rational people, and we are not going to jump Kaien and drag him into a dark alley." He eyed the young striker. "But keep in mind, part of us wants to. Much as I hate to say it, I think the general's right about the quarantine. Until we can get a handle on this, we shouldn't risk going near regular people."

"You mean, until you can fix this," Petrillo nodded.

Isshin and Kaien both winced. "Scissors, paper, stone?" Kaien offered.

"Yep. One, two, three-"

Kaien threw paper. Isshin threw rock… and his tentacles threw scissors.

Kaien glared at his cousin. And at his sergeant, who was snickering behind a hand. "Come on. That's just not fair."

"Life's not fair, kid," Petrillo said plainly. But bent a raised eyebrow on Isshin anyway.

Isshin shrugged, smile gone. "As our current local genetics expert, I have to tell you fixing this is highly unlikely to be an option." He looked them all in the eye, one by one. "And when I say highly unlikely, I mean not possible given the current state of the science and its foreseeable future for the next century."

Juushirou took a deep breath, fighting a sudden flare of panic. "But… people fix genetic defects all the time…."

"By adding DNA with the correct sequence, sure. We've got therapeutic techniques for some conditions in children and adults, and we can do a lot more with germ-line and in vitro zygotic modifications. It's very possible that we could make sure our children are entirely human. But to try and get functional DNA out of somatic cells…." Isshin shook his head. "We don't have that kind of tech. And we definitely don't know how either the Hollow virus or our vaccine pushed those affected into full-fledged metamorphosis. We're mammals, Juushirou. I don't care how many werewolf legends there are in folklore, there's nothing in our evolutionary history that sets up a - a change like this. And we'd have to pull it off in reverse."

"Which means that what we'd get still wouldn't be all human, no matter what it looked like," Kaien added. "Because you'd need some of those not-human genes to trigger another metamorphosis. Right?"

Isshin nodded soberly. "Plus, we'd be messing with the brain. Again. Bad idea." He sighed. "We're scientists, not miracle-workers. We can't wave a magic test tube and fix this."

Juushirou glanced back to where he'd tucked Toushirou against the wall. Blinked, and breathed, swept with a sudden, trembling wonder. "So we live with it."

"Which, if we're going to be honest here, does scare me," Isshin said pointedly. Tilted his head, and arched a questioning brow.

Shunsui coughed. "Yeah, I'm sure we're all-"

"It's all right," Juushirou said simply. Looked Isshin in the eye. "At my last checkup, the doctor said six months. I've been told that a few times before, but…." Resistance to autoimmune suppressants. Loss of remaining alveolar function. Imminent organ failure. "…This time, the odds weren't the kind you can beat."

"And they won't do a transplant on Strickland's, because the way your immune system's messed up, fresh lungs don't last more than a week," Shunsui bit out.

Kaien blanched. "You had Strickland's? But you're-"

"Not dead," Sergeant Petrillo said thoughtfully.

"It's the autoimmune reaction that kills the lungs," Juushirou nodded. "If our lungs are different enough now, or it's just thrown off what my immune system was attacking because we're different now…." I'm alive. I might live.

"Whoa," Shunsui said reverently. "How about that."

Juushirou smiled at him. Whether or not this was a fix, he was alive now, and breathing; safe, with people he trusted and :kin: he'd kill to protect. He hadn't felt this happy in years. "But… what do we do now?"

"What, you think data analysis is going to be a little tame after this?" Shunsui teased.

Juushirou reddened. "Well…."

"Don't be too sure," Isshin said dryly. "If Kisuke's right, and he usually is, this was a weapon." He raised his brows at the sergeant. "What would you do, if a first strike went fizzle?"

"What kind of first strike goes down in the middle of a damn desert?" Petrillo objected.

"The perfect one, if you want to test a retroviral spore initially spread through moist skin contact on a limited population, see how far it spreads, see how fast it spreads, and see how your targeted planet responds," Isshin said flatly.

"Hell, any halfway competent insurgent group can get their hands on some idiot's study on that," Kaien grumbled, watching Madarame sigh into feverish sleep.

"Right," his cousin agreed. "Any human one."

The strikers stared at him.

Isshin nodded, slow and sober.

"You're telling me there are aliens out there," Kaien said, stunned.

"The virus was inside an asteroid that otherwise seemed to be normal, it only targets Earth-native mammals, and it's a millennium ahead of any known human biotech," Isshin stated flatly. "Call me crazy, but based on what I picked up in history class, if any human group was this much more advanced than us, they'd have steamrollered us by now."

"You're saying there are aliens out there, and they don't fucking like us," Petrillo growled.

Isshin waved a tentacle. "Unless you think this is just a misunderstood friendly hello."

"Fuck."

"So," Shunsui said dryly. "Given that, what happens after the fizzle?"

Kaien frowned. "Would they even know it fizzled?"

A thoughtful pause. "Xenopsychology and tactics was just an optional seminar given by a crotchety old admiral, back when I went to the academy," Shunsui admitted. "Unless somebody's got anything more recent… didn't think so." He let out a slow breath. "If I remember right, old man Asher said watching space travel would be too tricky, just like it is for us; space is just too big. Even putting surveillance near habitable planets is iffy. To get good coverage, you need a lot of satellites, and every one is another chance for the people you're watching to get a clue. But if your targets broadcast information themselves, and you only have to plant one bug to pick up on that…."

"Their biggest source of strategic information could be us," Kaien summed up.

"If they exist. If they think tactically anything like we do." Shunsui threw up his hands. "This is an awful lot to build on just Kisuke's guess from your DNA analysis."

"It's not a guess," Isshin said firmly. "We've got our files. We'll get more evidence. If we have to take apart the damn virus nucleotide by nucleotide."

"Guess or not, if we assume they're right, and they're wrong, we can live with it," Petrillo said, looking at Shunsui. "If we act like they're nuts, and they're not…."

"Don't think it'll be too hard to talk the general into a complete news blackout," Shunsui agreed. "The Project's supposed to be under the radar. This will just mean going a little deeper."

In six months, Tatsu's expecting a funeral, Juushirou thought, curling up next to Toushirou again. But that was an aching gap of eternity, compared to the heartbeat by heartbeat fight they'd just won. He didn't want to think beyond the next day. The next hour.

Except…. "We're going to have to go back there sometime, aren't we?"

Everyone still conscious glanced at the shuttle wall, as if they could stare through it toward the fiery ruins of lives behind them. "Probably," Shunsui admitted. "But not today, partner. Not today."

Relieved, Juushirou snuggled up next to the :pack's cub,: and finally slipped into sleep.

Deep in wet limestone caverns, under the smoldering ruins of a prospectors' settlement that would soon be buried in bureaucratic security records under the codename Hueco Mundo….

:Little-deaths…!:

-End