Greetings all! I know some of you were expecting to see some Uraichi when you saw that i'd update...but Grimmjow hijacked my brain tonight and brought you...this. It might be a series after Sour Apple is complete. Who knows?

Fuck that hurt…

In retrospect, I probably should have known that Nnoitra would do something pussified like slash me from behind at the last possible minute. I should have been expecting it. But truthfully, I'd had my hands a little full at the moment. There was a brown-eyed punk that I was dying to teach a lesson to, and I really hadn't been paying attention to anything but the feel his robes sliding beneath my fingers and the frantic rush of my own heart telling me that there was no possible way I could win this fight. I was too torn up, I was too exhausted, and I was too…

Eh…as if I'd ever listened to logical reasoning before. If I'd done that I never would have emerged from the sands of Hueco Mundo.

But then that gangly fuck had come up and nearly cut me in half, leaving my body in what I could only assume was a mangled pile on the ground. It wasn't as though I could feel much anyway, seeing as how the moment his blade had sunk through my skin I'd pretty much lost the ability to think of anything more complex than "ow" and "holy shit". Death was coming for me (again), and it didn't wear an ugly striped mask and have hair the color of pumpkins in October like I'd thought it would…hoped it would. Nope, it wore a big, frilly, gaudy white collar and had teeth so long you could put them next to the whale exhibit in the national wildlife museum.

And goddamn that pissed me off.

I had closed my eyes, resigned to my humiliating end, when the clang of steel on steel jarred my senses awake, made me nearly jump (which hurt like hell) and stare at the black cloak billowing out over my nearly lifeless form. No…way…there was no goddamn way! But it was. There stood Kurosaki, zanpakuto raised in defense of me, cockily staring down Nnoitra as though the kid wasn't covered in blood and gore and breathing like he'd run a fucking marathon. I had no words. Even if I'd been able to speak (which I couldn't, but no one needed to know that) I wouldn't have been able to find the right phrase to describe the rush of strange emotions that whipped through me like wildfire. Why would he do something so stupid!? I knew he was retarded, but this seriously took the cake.

"Look at you Grimmjow!" Nnoitra spat from that nasty mouth, making me wish I could move if only to slam my fist right into his windpipe. "First you lost and now you're letting your enemy protect you?!"

Couldn't argue there. It was pretty pathetic. But really, I wasn't exactly letting the damn shinigami do anything since my motor functions had ceased to exist. What was I supposed to do? Wiggle my pinky finger around and demand that he stop?

The world became somewhat unfocused at that point, though there were vague patches that I remember more clearly. Neliel's tits hanging out of that torn potato sack she'd been wearing, Kurosaki screaming in pain and rage, Nnoitra laughing, and then there were voices I didn't recognize, reiatsu I couldn't quite place. After that everything went gray for a while…and I thought for sure I was going to die…de-evolve…something. But I didn't. I just kept floating through some half-remembered dream, thoughts bubbling up in my head only to be swallowed back down again by half-felt agony raging through my body. Damn six-legged bastard…

The last thing I remember before the whole world was swallowed by inky darkness was that Kurosaki had actually saved my life. Saved my fucking life. And I couldn't die knowing that I owed someone a debt like that. Even if it was a stinking shinigami bastard. I have some rules after all…warped and distorted as they are.

I don't know how long I was out, a few hours at most…but I awoke to find myself curled up in the sand half underneath a large piece of broken concrete. My shoulder was already well on its way to being healed, steady waves of reiatsu pulsing through my veins, restoring me as quickly as possible. People might have thought that being a hollow was some kind of curse, but the regenerative powers of that side of my nature was probably what had saved my life in the first place. That and Kurosaki.

Argh…there he was again, right there at the forefront of my mind, refusing to let me simply rest and lick my wounds in peace. As if it wasn't bad enough that I had lost to his dumb ass, now I had to think about him every second of the day too? It seemed unfair. What had I ever done to deserve such a steep punishment?

Don't answer that.

Slowly I began testing out my sore muscles, trying to move them one by one, finding that I was able to at least sit up and get a better feel for what was going on. My eyes burned when I cracked them open, wishing that I was out in the desert of Hueco Mundo where it was dark and quiet rather than this never-ending false daylight that Aizen had created to make himself feel better. I hated that asshole so much…the condescending prick. If I'd been able to kill him I would have, but I'm not stupid enough to think that I could match that kind of raw strength. It's better to live a little longer and get stronger than to jump into a fight with someone who you know for a fact that you can't beat.

Which reminded me…how had Kurosaki fared in his fight with Nnoitra?

Somehow I managed to push myself to my feet, wobbling a little before gaining steady footing. Holy fuck! The place was a wreck! Me and Kurosaki had done a really good job of demolishing it, but whoever had been fighting Nnoitra practically annihilated half of Los Noches! Awesome. I'd never had much attachment to the palace anyway. It was too big, too white, too stark, too boring, too clean…just too much. It was kind of nice to see it in such a state of shambles.

A small moan from behind made me glance over my good shoulder to the ball of green hair laying near a piece of rock, propped up against it at a painful angle. Neliel looked at me with those big, annoying eyes and cocked her head confusedly, as if she couldn't believe I was alive. Hell…I couldn't believe I was alive either. I couldn't believe she was alive. I couldn't believe the shinigami hadn't blown the whole building apart trying to get at us.

"Neliel?" I raised an eyebrow, bending at the waist to look at her. She was so pathetic like this, such a simple meal, but I just didn't feel like devouring her. It would have been too easy. I preferred my prey have a little fight in them…made the end result sweeter. It was why I wanted Kurosaki so bad; he was the ultimate quarry. "What the hell's going on? Where is everybody?"

She shrugged lightly, putting her hands up in the air as if to further illustrate her ignorance. Great, so she had no idea what was going on either. Damn it. Not that she would have been much help anyway in that ridiculous form, but at least then I might have known where to start looking.

I didn't know what I was going to do when I found Kurosaki. Thank him? Yeah fucking right. Fight him? That seemed…out of place considering the circumstances. Fight with him? If there was any option that might be the one I took. True, I'd look like a huge traitor, but Aizen's goals had never been my goals to begin with. I hunted whomever I felt like hunting. I did whatever I felt like doing. Aizen had simply made that prerogative easier for me. So if I felt like helping the shinigami out of some strange sense of honor than that's what I would do.

Now I just had to find him…them…him.

"See ya around Neliel," I waved at her as I walked away, sliding down a bank of sand to land gently at the bottom.

It was then, as I began to draw enough power to open up a garganta, that I realized I was missing something. Pantera! Where was Pantera? I glanced around the barren landscape almost frantically, feeling out my lost zanpakuto, until suddenly from the corner of my eye I saw a glimmering light sticking out from the sand. I knew that shine. It felt good in my hands when I drew it from the sand, brushing off the dusty handle and raising it up towards the false light. There were a few scuffs on the guard, blood dried and caked with grit all along the cutting edge, a bit dinged up, but it was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Time to go.

Usually I hate trips through the garganta, long and monotonous, but in this case I didn't mind it so much. It was a brief opportunity to continue healing, to collect my scattered thoughts and to solidify my intentions in my mind. Not that it was probably going to work. In all actuality the damn walk was way too short, but I wasn't going to admit that to myself. That would have meant I was afraid, and I most certainly was not scared. My whole world was changing, just like it had when I first became an Espada. I felt as though the entirety of my existence was being altered in a split second, reformed forever under Aizen's hand. Again.

The portal opened up into a battle zone, a charred body (I had no idea who that was) soaring through the air over my head as I stepped out onto solid ground. Everything around me was chaos, fighting, screaming, running…it was almost like being back in the menos forest only without the trees. If I hadn't been so keen on finding Kurosaki I might have stuck around and indulged in a little nostalgia, but as it was I just didn't have the time. The subtle joys of the battlefield would just have to be put on hold until all the lose ends were tied up.

Sniffing the air slowly, I took a few steps down the street and paused. I was half expecting some wet-nosed shinigami to come and challenge me to a useless battle at any moment, so it was quite a surprise when no one really paid me any attention whatsoever. For once I was glad to be snubbed. I didn't have enough energy to fight in some petty scrapes and help Kurosaki. I'd be lucky to have enough stamina to keep up with the kid this time around.

Ugh…I was going to help Kurosaki Ichigo…I had to be crazy. It left such a nasty taste in my mouth to think about it.

Unfortunately there was no time to stop and reconsider what I was about to do. My senses were as open as I could make them, weaving in and out of the raging spiritual pressure, trying to pick Kurosaki out of the crowd. It was difficult to find him, walking in one direction only to feel him from another and having to turn around. I was starting to worry that I wasn't going to be able to locate him at all until his reiatsu flared like a supernova from somewhere to the north.

With that I was off, sonido carrying me as fast as I could manage through the tall buildings, skidding around corners in a blind attempt to make it to him in time. I didn't know what the rush was, I certainly didn't like the damn shinigami by any stretch of the imagination, didn't care what happened to him. But there was a part of me that was desperate to get to him, to make sure that if he was going to die that I was there to see it…or to be the one to do it.

Or something like that…I wasn't sure anymore.

My feet came to a grinding halt in the street, concrete flying up around me as I stared somewhat flabbergasted at the presented scene. There was Kurosaki, fighting just as hard as he'd been fighting me, swinging his sword towards Aizen who actually appeared to be…somewhat winded. The two swords clashed, and the force of their combined reiatsu made my hair blow back from my face, mouth gaping open like I was a newborn hollow laying prone in the sand.

Kurosaki…moved like a god. There were no other words for it. He pulsed and flowed and dodged and swung like he'd been born to do it, like he was battle incarnate. Like he was the sword. His baby face was set in stern lines, concentration focused and sharp, the last of his mask hanging onto one eye, just like it had been during our battle. His body was covered with sweat, blood dripping down one temple to run in scarlet rivers down his neck to soak into his shirt. I'd never been so aware of another human being, living or dead. It struck me like a ton of bricks, made me shake my head to clear whatever had been going on within it.

What was wrong with me?

Though it seemed like minutes had gone by, in reality only seconds had passed, and without thinking I rushed headlong into the battle. Kurosaki was down to one knee, that pure black blade rising up in a defensive stance as Aizen's sword came crashing down upon him. That arrogant bastard probably thought he had the kid beat, that nothing could possibly save him, that he was doomed. Wrong. The moment that weapon went on the downswing was the moment that it met with Pantera, my eyes narrowing over the top of my blade in defiance. I couldn't kill this man, not alone, but I had done dumber shit before and always come out on top anyway. Besides…he was too cocky…the only one who was allowed to be that smug was me. And maybe Kurosaki.

"You…" the redhead murmured, blinking up at me as I grinned at him over my shoulder. There was a strange softness in his gaze, a disbelieving expression written plainly across his features. If I couldn't beat him, at least I could shock the living hell out of him. The sensation was quite satisfying, curling in my chest to purr like a content cat. No pun intended. "What the fuck…"

"I owe you."

And he grinned at me, a weird lopsided smile that looked as if he didn't smile often enough for it to be natural. Much to my own surprise I found that I liked it anyway…even though if Aizen had his way I'd never see it again. Not that I would admit to liking it even if I managed to live through this. Nope. Not my style.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes to turn my attention back to the very scary man in front of us. "You're just glad to have your ass pulled out of the fire."

"More like surprised to see who's hand came in to grab it."

I could have made a really raunchy joke…but I decided to save it for later. I didn't think the kid would get it anyway…