Title: Heal

Summary: [Ichigo x Rukia fluff]- "I'm going to have to, uh…take off your shirt." With no one else on clinic duty, Ichigo has to patch Rukia's wounds himself.

"You think you see me
You like the way I'm strong and stand by you
But I am fragile too." – Fragile by Kerli

"You're an idiot."

Okay, so he could've said something a little nicer to the girl that was lying on the hot concrete, injured. But Ichigo Kurosaki was beyond pissed and the time for kind words had passed.

As he leaned over his wounded friend, he couldn't help but wonder how quickly things had changed. Since when did Rukia Kuchiki run off alone to go battle a Hollow? Since when had he become so unimportant enough that she no longer needed his help? She had answered the alert while he was dozing off. When he had awoken, the roar of an angry Hollow could be heard a mile away and Rukia Kuchiki had disappeared.

It had scared the hell out of him, really. For a second, he thought she had been kidnapped because the thought of her going after it alone seemed impossible. Her body was nowhere to be found; yeah- she didn't even bother changing into soul reaper form. Nice.

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome," he said bitterly. "Where does it hurt?"

"Nowhere!"

"Look at you. You probably can't even walk."

He cradled her in his arms, scooped her up bridal-style, and ignored her pounding fists aimed at his chest.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing. Put me down!"

"No." His statement was final. A bruise on her leg was turning every color of the rainbow.

"What's your problem?"

Her weight was almost effortless as he walked down the empty street with Rukia riding shotgun. This was somewhat of a comfort to him. Carrying her made her more dependent on him; it was nice to feel useful for something.

"Are we…not a team anymore?"

She cleared her throat and considered the meaning behind his question. Of course they were – she slept in his closet for goodness sake. But wasn't she strong enough to handle a mere Hollow on her own? She could wield a sword even in human form. And sure, she had gotten a little banged up in the process, but she had defeated that bastard as soon as Ichigo ran up to help. Rukia Kuchiki wasn't the weak, little girl she used to be. Things had changed.

"Of…of course we are."

"Then why did you go and fight alone? If we did it together, you probably would've gotten away without a scratch."

"I can handle a scratch."

He frowned at her and ran his thumb over a gash on her arm. "Does this look like a scratch to you?"

She was a big girl, despite what Ichigo believed. Honestly, she had been through much worse. There was just a couple cuts here and there that could use a Band-Aid, in her opinion. She said nothing.

He carried her to the Kurosaki Clinic in silence. Isshin would know just what to do; he would patch her up nicely, and then Ichigo could continue being angry with her all he wanted. Only there was a problem when they finally got there. On the refrigerator was a note with 'ICHIGO' in big, black letters.

'Took the girls against their will for ice cream and a movie. We should be back around four. In the meantime, here's a joke-

This guy goes to the doctor for a checkup, and after some tests, the doctor comes in with a grave look on his face.

Doctor: Well, I have some bad news and some really bad news.

Guy: Well, give me the really bad news first.

Doctor: You have cancer, and only 6 months to live.

Guy: And the bad news?

Doctor: You have Alzheimer's disease.

Guy: Thank God. I was afraid I had cancer!

Ha ha ha!'

Ichigo rolled his eyes and thanked God that idiocy was not hereditary. His dad was so not funny. And it was only a little after twelve- great.

'P.S- If you didn't think that was funny, then I'm disowning you.

-Dad'

Ichigo snatched the note with one hand, balled it up, and threw it away before proceeding to take Rukia to his room. Gently, he sat her on his bed and collected his Dad's medical supplies that he would need. When he came back, Rukia cocked her head to the side and stared at him in question.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to heal you."

Ichigo had been around enough to pick up the basics. He knew how medicines worked, and had took it upon himself to learn how to heal a wound once his soul reaping job had come into his life. It would be quite useful one day, he knew, and he guessed that day had come. Plus, taking her to a hospital and trying to explain why she looked like death (no pun intended) would be far too difficult, and getting her to Kisuke would take too much time without a car.

"You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Rukia," he said patiently, as if she was a small child, "I'm properly certified to be able to handle a situation like this." He rummaged through the first-aid kit. "Now which one of these is a Band-Aid?"

She stared at him.

"That was a joke."

She wasn't laughing.

"Okay. Anyways…let's see what hurts."

He kneeled in front of her, removed her socks and shoes, rolled her shorts up dangerously close to her hips (while she resisted the urge to swat his prying hands away) and took her tiny foot in his hands. "Lemme know what's tender."

Gently and slowly, he ran his hands over her left foot before trailing over her calf, up the soft skin of her thigh, and to her-

"Ichigo!"

She was biting her lip the entire time, trying not to stop him, but she had reached her limit. Not that it was offensive or anything- no, it was far from that. Honestly, she was struggling to cope with the fact that Ichigo Kurosaki, the boy who drooled in his sleep, was…turning her on. She couldn't help it, though. It was just the way he took his time to run his warm hands over every inch of her skin, leaving a tingly sensation in his trail. Plus, the way he kneeled in front of him in surrender was kind of attractive. Kind of- but nothing she couldn't resist.

He ran a thumb over a bruise on her upper thigh and she whimpered a little. "What? That hurt?"

No. But she nodded anyways, because she wouldn't dare explain why she was making noises that were unfamiliar even to her.

He unscrewed a jar and smoothed a clear balm on the supposedly hurt area. Then, he continued to travel further up her leg. If she didn't know any better, he was trying to cop a feel. That look on his face was a little too concentrated. But that couldn't be right- Ichigo wasn't attracted to her. He would never be like that.

Or would he? Ichigo had to hand it to himself- he sure was doing a damn good job of staying in control. This was unfamiliar territory- territory he had dreamed about once or twice in his entire lifetime, but that was something he would keep to himself. But who could blame him? He was a teenage boy, and teenage boys had needs. By Jove, she was so fucking soft! Too bad that moan of hers wasn't one of acceptance;he was enjoying this more than he should've been.

"Woah now," she warned, grabbing his hands that were dangerously close to her bikini line. "You've gone far enough, don't you think?"

He was relieved that she had stopped him. "Alright."

He proceeded on checking the left leg from the toes to the top, focusing more on any bruises or cuts he saw than the feeling that this was probably the closest he'd ever get to touching her. Not that he wanted to- that'd be gross if he felt that way. And if he did, he'd probably get kicked in the face by her every single day. Still, it wasn't fear that stopped him from thinking of Rukia that way. It was respect, of course. He most definitely respected her and her deliciously smooth skin.

"I'm still curious," he said idly while poking and squeezing her hips, "about what made you leave me behind."

He rested his hands on either side of her and looked up into her eyes. Yet, for some reason she could not meet them. Why was he making her feel so guilty about this? And why was he so concerned?

"I'm capable of handling a Hollow alone, you know."

"But I'd prefer if you didn't. If you're gonna get hurt, do it for something worthwhile."

"So saving lives isn't worthwhile anymore?"

He frowned at her stubbornness. "You know what I mean. Don't leave me behind again."

"What if I want to?" she scoffed. "You can't tell me how to fight."

That pissed him off again. And really, he didn't know why. There was something about her independence that really irked him. Maybe it was his nature- he hated being left out of things, especially ones that invited fighting. Maybe it was his hatred of stubbornness and defiance. Or maybe…maybe he couldn't stand the thought of her getting hurt. Sure, she had been through worse, but if it was something he could've prevented, he would do it in a heartbeat. Leaving him behind was no longer an option. He would not allow it.

"Never again, Rukia," he warned her.

She rolled her eyes. "You're overre-"

"Never again."

His voice was burning with a passion she could not understand, and his eyes were alit with intense anger. He meant business – that part was clear – but why it was such a problem for him she could not comprehend. It wasn't like she had died- that'd be impossible, with her skill. She had been through much, much worse, too. His obsession with saving her was perplexing.

"Okay," she whispered. "Fine."

He took each arm and smeared a greenish medicine that resembled smashed grass on the deeper-looking wounds before wrapping gauze around both.

"You can't move your arms for at least 10 minutes," he explained to her. "The medicine needs time to sink into the wound, and if you move around, the blood and gauze will just disturb it."

She nodded and he continued up the sides of her ribcage before feeling her slightly wince. Underneath his palm was a section of blood-stained cotton. He grimaced at the fact that it was more serious than he thought things would be. It was quite bad, really. She had probably lost a lot of blood, already. Seeing Rukia hurt had never been easy, but trying to fix it seemed even worse.

"Rukia," he breathed, running his fingertips over the patch of soaked fabric. He was at loss. There were no words for this.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she attempted to soothe him.

"The hell it's not! Is your entire front like this?"

She shook her head, and he sighed. He knew what he had to do, and it wouldn't be easy.

"Rukia," he said gently, avoiding her eyes. "I'm going to have to, uh…take off your shirt."

She just kind of stared at him.

"Er, Rukia? I kind of need your permission to do this."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Can't you just…lift half of my shirt?"

He noticed a smaller patch of red forming on her chest. She would lie and say there was nothing else, whether she realized there was or not. It was clear that the Hollow had gotten a good couple of swipes at the front of her.

"I have a feeling this isn't the only spot."

She swallowed dramatically and felt herself breaking into a cold sweat. Being shirtless in front of Ichigo…what would that be like? He wasn't the prude little boy that he used to be, she knew. Would he stare? Would he like what he saw? Well, not that that mattered; she didn't care what he thought about her body. But then again, he had never commented on the matter. Instantly, she wished she had worn a more subtle bra that day, but something made her substitute her usual sports bra for something a little nicer.

"I'll just do it myself-"

"No! You can't move your arms!"

Damn. The fates sure were against her today. Well…this would be interesting.

"Okay," she whispered, defeated. "Fine."

He took a deep breath and tried to make it as subtle and professional as possible. However, it was quite difficult as his shaking fingers fumbled with the very first button. This couldn't be happening; this wasn't supposed to happen- not until he was happily married, or at least dating. Dating Rukia was…unthinkable. Well, until today, it was. Honestly, it sure would've made things a whole lot easier.

'Be a man,' he encouraged himself. 'No big deal. Think about the blood, not the boobs.'

Boobs? Did he really just say that in his head?

He gained a little (and I mean a little) confidence as he got done with the third one. But who would buy a shirt with so many? Was she trying to torture him? With each unfastening, more and more smooth, pale skin was revealed before he came to an odd piece of lacy black fabric that was incredibly unlike Rukia. What was that, and where the hell did she get it from?

Rukia, in the meanwhile, was having a panic attack. Her heart was pounding so hard, Ichigo probably could hear it- or feel it under his fingers. Those fingers…they would be the death of her. Millions upon millions of questions were running through her mind per millisecond. What was going through his mind right now? He couldn't possibly be enjoying this, considering he thought of her in ways that were strictly platonic or less. And that ridiculous bra of hers- he was probably ready to puke.

When he had finally gotten to the end of those infernal buttons, he gently pushed the blouse off of her shoulders, brushing his hands over the bare skin. She sighed quietly and closed her eyes, unable to take his touch silently. He just felt so good that it was almost rediculous.

Now that her shirt was gone, all her mars and wounds were revealed. There was that deep gash on her upper abdomen, like he had correctly guessed. He gently wiped the blood away with a towel, careful not to hurt her, and applied the green medicine once more. After wrapping more gauze around her, he smeared the clear balm on the smaller cuts and scratches. She couldn't help but laugh a little at his tickling touch.

"What?"

She shook her head. "It tickles, that's all."

He smiled at the thought that there was still something to laugh about, despite her wounds.

"It reminds me of how I used to help the little kids back in Rukongai. We didn't have much medicine, with it being District 78 and all, but we did our best. I'd kiss the wound and they insisted it tickled and magically made it better."

Ichigo could see her mind drifting away to memories of freedom and restriction, happiness and sorrow, poverty and riches, and of hope.

"And who kissed your wounds?"

Rukia had always been there to help the weaker, but there had never been anyone to tenderly care for her. Sure, Renji had helped her out, but he never showed the kind of affection she so often gave. There had never been anyone to kiss her scratches when she fell, now that she thought about it. There had never been anyone to kiss away her tears.

"No one," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He wanted to beat himself up for asking such a personal question. How stupid could he be, to rekindle memories that obviously hurt? He knew that her childhood had lacked a loving parent, but he had never thought that she longed for such a thing. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to kiss her pain away, somehow.

On the top of her chest was a thin but deep gash where the Hollow had left his mark. He grabbed the green ointment again and gently applied it to the wound.

"Don't move," he gently reminded her as he stuck a patch over the spot.

She looked so sweet and sad as she watched him do his job. He wanted to erase that sadness, kiss it away, somehow. And then a strange idea popped into mind. One that seemed impossible, that was for sure, but one none the less. He just wanted to heal her soul. That was all. Surely, she wouldn't be offended.

He slowly stood up in front of her leaned his face into her neck.

"Ichigo," she whispered as his nose brushed against that tender skin under her chin, "what are you doing?"

"Giving you someone to believe in."

Softly, so softly, he pressed his lips over the patch that rested directly above her heart.

Her eyes slowly closed as his touch and she wanted to stop him, but she just couldn't. Her body and soul screamed 'no' against it. She could end this insanity with just a word, but even her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as it sighed and parted in wonder. His warm lips brushed over her shoulder before he withdrew them (to her great displeasure) and backed away.

He took her silence as disapproval. "I-I'm sorry-"

"Shhh. It's okay."

By the look in her eyes, he knew that it was. Bitter regrets flew out of the window as he ran his eyes over her collarbone and up to her curious face.

"Your lip- it's cut."

Had he just noticed that? He should be more aware of her beauty from now on.

He got down on one knee and stroked a thumb over her pink cheek. She couldn't help but lean into his touch, despite her instinct that all of this was so wrong. Yet, her nerves thought otherwise as they reveled in his incredibly gentle touch. Ichigo believed he should kiss that pain away, too.

And so he did. Carefully testing his limits, he brushed his lips against hers before pressing against them. For some miracle, they actually responded back, moving against his in a new and unfamiliar way. Her taste was that of sweet candy and joy, and her lips were like rose petals, silky and perfect. It was then that he realized what he had been missing out on all along- her. She had been in his closet all this time. She leaned her forehead against his when they finally broke apart.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," she whispered, smiling serenely. "Thank you."

He had almost forgotten the motive behind his contact. "You're welcome."

He moved back to get a better look at her joyful face. He had no choice but to smile, because that was the kind of hold she had on him. Gathering up his medicines and supplies, he packed away the kit and proceeded to leave the room.

"Oh, and Rukia?" he called to her over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Nice bra."

What a douche.

He quickly dodged a pillow aimed at his egotistical head. Her ten minutes, she had decided, were up. She had healed.

A/N: You guys are totally nuts for sticking by with me and my insanity, but I love you for it anways! Sorry this is so looong. Just a couple things- sorry this is OOC. Then again, isn't everything I write? Plus, I know nothing about medicine, so try not to grill me on that. 'Doctor' is crossed off my list of possible careers, I promise. That doctor's joke- lame, I know. But it made me smile. And lastly, press that pretty green button so you can tell me more things that I could greatly improve on. Your support is what keeps these crazy ideas flowing. Thanks again!