Title: Dearest Helpless

Author: codegal

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo.

Summary: [IchiHime AU] Since the death of her brother, Orihime had always been plagued with an accursed gift that allowed her to have visions of brutal murders. Ichigo, lead homicide detective of a series of murders that have more questions than answers, is forced to rely on Orihime for help. But are her visions real? Or could she be somehow directly involved in it all?

Author's Notes: Yes, another fic in the bid to raise my word count for the Ultimate Hali Challenge. XD This was something I had in my head after reading a few Linda Howard stories, most specifically, "Now you see her" and "Dream Man". I just really love the whole supernatural thing, so I definitely had to try it out for myself.

…

She couldn't see.

Orihime froze as the feeling of dread overwhelmed her, as the paralysis of not being able to see started to wear her body down. Knowing what was to come, she urgently struggled to gain her feet, glad that she had been seated on the living room couch and not lying down.

Relying completely on touch, she hurried to make it to the bathroom, her legs feeling numb as she slowly lost consciousness. She knew she had but a few more moments before she was completely taken over, and she increased her struggles, her feet shuffling now, her movements sluggish. She needed to get as far as she could before she was rendered useless.

She reached the bathroom door, sliding her hand down the wood to grasp the knob. She tried to turn it, her hands shaking.

It was too late.

…

Ichigo Kurosaki crouched down over what was left of the victim's body.

In the eight years that he had served as a homicide detective, he had rarely come across a scene that could cause him to visibly blanch, and he'd seen a lot during those years. It was unheard of to see such brutality in Karakura Town, especially when it was a moderately sized town.

Ichigo cursed silently at the mutilated body before him, the stench of decay and bodily excrement reaching his nostrils. There was blood, so much blood, splattered everywhere, on the walls, on the furniture, seeping into the carpet. There was no doubt about it. Jolene Mags had not died an easy death.

Ichigo looked up as the sound of boots thudded in the doorway, taking in his partner's visible blanch. "Shit," he muttered, taking the whole scene in. He shook his head, a rueful look crossing his face. "This is bad."

Ichigo inclined his head. "Yeah, tell me about it. You canvass the neighbourhood?"

Shinji nodded his head, moving to Ichigo's side, careful not to disturb anything from the crime scene. "Yeah, nobody heard or saw a thing. Forensics should be here shortly. Did you talk to the officer who called it in?"

Ichigo shook his head, taking one more look at the body, etching her features into his mind. He would add her name and details to his list, to those that he would find justice for. Finally, he rose to his feet, stretching. "Yeah, dispatch received a distress call from the husband, babbling over and over how his wife was dead. Officer Peabody had been patrolling a nearby area and was first on scene, making sure to close off the murder scene area and keep nosy reporters and neighbours away until more cops turned up."

His partner pursed his lips, picking up on the most important part of Ichigo's recount. "Husband, did you say?"

Ichigo looked grimm. "Yeah, looks like we got ourselves our number one suspect. Its almost always the husband or the boyfriend with the murders of females."

"Let's go ask him a few questions then."

…

It was the bone-chilling cold that woke her up.

Images of the vision flooded her mind as the cold grew within her, and she fought against the flood, pushing away the images of brutality, of rape, of blood splattered everywhere to the back of her mind. She'd deal with that later, when she met up with her police liaison, but for now, she had to deal with the after effects of having a vision.

She gritted her teeth as a vicious cramp started in her right thigh, causing her to cry out in pain. She hated this aspect of her so-called gift, hated the toll that it took on her body. She had never wanted this to begin with, never wanted the responsibility that came with the witnessing of humanity in its ugliest form, never wanted the nightmares, the strain that she had to hold up under.

It was pointless complaining about it now.

She found herself lying on the bathroom floor, unable to feel the coolness of the tiles thanks to the inner freezing cold that enshrouded her. Orihime cried out again as her fingers dug into her flesh, trying to ease the cramped muscle. Not long after she had worked it out did the other thigh cramp up, and hot tears burned down her face as she fought to stay in control. She was quickly losing energy from the cold and from the drainage of the vision; she didn't have time to waste.

Gasping, she struggled onto her hands and knees, yelling when both thighs cramped at the movement. Biting down on her lip, she pushed through the pain of it, struggling towards the bathtub, her breathing laboured as she slowly made her way next to it. She was quickly losing feeling in her limbs, and she looked down to notice that her fingernails had actually turned blue. The sight of it scared her; she'd never had such a strong reaction before, she'd been cold in previous visions, but nothing like this bone-numbing chill that had her muscles tightening and locking painfully.

It took her several tries, but eventually, she was able to pull herself up onto the side of the tub, leaning over as she slid awkwardly in, her body crashing painfully against the walls of the tub. She forced herself to sit up and fought against the knobs of the tap water, shaking as she finally managed to turn it and water streamed out onto her blue toes. She was smart enough to let the cold water run as well, realising the dangers of being in a tub of boiling hot water.

When the tub was full, she struggled to turn it off before lying back down, fully clothed, sinking deep into the water, letting her body soak in the warmth of the water as it sloshed over the side of the tub, spilling onto the tiled floor, travelling towards the overflow drain. Little by little, she could feel sensation in her limbs, and her body wracked with shudders and tremors as her body slowly regained its warmth. A delicious lassitude overtook her then, and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and fall asleep right there and then. Shaking her head fiercely, she pushed the temptation away. It was dangerous for her to sleep here, she needed to head somewhere she could stay warm.

Gathering the last of her strength, she climbed out of the tub, stripping off the heavy layers of wet clothing, grabbing several towels to dry her body and wrap around her wet hair as she walked on shaky legs towards her bedroom. Once there, she simply pulled back the covers, slipped into her bed naked, and closed her eyes, falling deeply into a dreamless sleep.

…

"Yes, thank you for your time." Shinji hung the phone up, sighing tiredly, running his fingers through his dishevelled hair.

Ichigo looked over from the drawing board. "What happened?"

"Husband's alibi checks out. He was working, as he described, the security shift over at CommTech. Several security guards have vouched for his whereabouts and are sending over security surveillance tapes."

"Damn," Ichigo muttered, rubbing a hand against his face. "But that doesn't mean that he couldn't have done it."

Shinji shook his head. "The coroner's report came back, placing the victim's death at roughly 10pm. Mr. Mags shift started at 8pm and he was at the security desk for at least four hours before he was able to take a break. So even if he had gone home, murdered his wife, then returned to work, there's no way he could have done it within the time constraints that the coroner's given us."

"Shit, so what does that leave us with?"

"Well, did forensics come back to us?"

Ichigo nodded, grimacing. "Yeah. No fibres, no fingerprints, no nothing. And now that our main suspect has an alibi that checks out, we're back at square one. Brutal rape and murder of a woman that by all accounts, had no enemies, never had any problems at work, and who regularly volunteered at cancer fundraisers, your regular upstanding citizen. So far, there's no motive for anyone wanting her dead."

Shinji leaned back in his chair, hooking his arms behind his head. "There's always something. We're just gonna have to go back and do some serious leg work, check her accounts, re-canvass the neighbourhood, speak to friends and family, co-workers, whoever can lead us to something that can explain her murder."

"I guess I'll go get us some coffee."

Shinji nodded. "Yeah, I'll get started on pulling up her bank statements and phone records. We might catch a break or something."

Ichigo looked back up at the drawing board, empty save for the picture of Jolene Mags. "At this point, we can do with a break."