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The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. --William Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well
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"Did you know that there are almost as many worlds where you win as there are where I do?"
The question was spoken quietly, almost conversationally, as if the two of them were friends chatting about the weather, and not enemies trapped together in a veritable tomb.
Of course, nothing about this situation was normal. Aizen had no idea how or when the Shinigami would come for the two of them--
"There are almost a dozen worlds where the two of us die here, you and I," Ichigo added, eyes cloudy as he stared sightlessly into the distance. The young man hadn't moved from his spot, propped up against the throne, since Yhwach had tossed him against it in his last fight against the two Shinigami. If it wasn't for Ichigo's running commentary about what might have been, Aizen would have thought that the boy was completely unaware of his presence.
The entire situation was wholly disconcerting, and the former captain had stopped himself from shaking Ichigo every time he lapsed into silence.
"It won't happen this time, of course, because neither of us is fatally injured, and Renji is leading the rescue effort, so... that's good." The boy shifted slightly, but otherwise paid no attention to his surroundings, and Aizen couldn't help but wince in sympathy. They both had wounds to be treated, but the older man was hesitant to touch Ichigo while he was still riding the Quincy King's power.
Still, Aizen wasn't about to let the boy bleed out while they waited for rescue. "Ichigo--"
"We die a lot, though," he continued, fingers tracing nonsense patterns on the floor as he spoke. He didn't seem to notice when his former foe knelt before him and began binding his wounds. "You kill me, Byakuya kills me, Yhwach kills me, I kill me..." he trailed off as Aizen took one of his hands.
The older man frowned at Ichigo's uncharacteristic words, and paused in the middle of his ministrations. "Why would you take your own life?"
"I didn't have my powers, and no one needed me," his blank eyes landed on Aizen, then, and the Shinigami fought off a shiver. "Pills are painless, but jumping is quicker. You like poison best."
Aizen tried to imagine a world where one or both of them would be driven to suicide, but couldn't manage it. To see such events as if they had happened--were actually happening--was a heavy burden, and he couldn't help but wonder that if Ichigo had known the price to be paid for defeating Yhwach that he might not have charged so willingly into this final battle.
There was little for the two of them to do other than wait, and hours passed slowly as Ichigo remained in his trance-like state, and Aizen remained focused and ready to intervene if the young man was in danger of being consumed by his visions. As time passed, the former captain found himself captivated by the disjointed stories that Ichigo told--of romance between two lieutenants, but only with the death of a certain captain; of the lives of Yuzu and Karin; of a devastating human war that would keep the Shinigami far too busy.
As much as Aizen was fascinated by the possibilities, however, he could clearly see the effects that the power had on Ichigo, and prayed that their rescue would arrive soon. After yet another unsuccessful attempt in communicating with his companion, the older man finally decided that he needed to do something to break Ichigo's trance and get him functional again before the rescue team arrived and assumed that he had done something to their hero.
"I love you," Ichigo said, suddenly, and Aizen froze. "Not now. Someday. If--if he doesn't, and maybe if she does. We could be happy."
The former captain considered the possibility and, although Ichigo was much too young for such a relationship at the moment, at the thought of what the young man could become--
The idea wasn't as far-fetched to Aizen as perhaps it should have been.
“Sometimes, it's not you,” Ichigo continued. This time, he had a contented little smile on his face that made something in the older man's stomach swoop, even with those sightless eyes staring at him. “Kisuke loves me as much as you do, and he hardly ever tries to kill me. Or her, but I don't know her, yet.”
The sudden rush of irrational jealousy took Aizen off guard, and he reached forward to steady himself as he stumbled into his companion, grasping Ichigo's shoulder to keep himself upright. He resisted the urge to pull Ichigo up from the dais and place him directly on the throne, or to to carry him deeper into the palace and away from everything the room represented.
The younger man gasped at the contact, but one of Ichigo's hands shot out and grabbed his before Aizen could pull it away.
“Don't,” he begged, squeezing Aizen's hand hard enough to hurt. The flicker of awareness in his eyes was almost painful to see. “I can't...I need...help me.”
“What can I do?”
“Just--” Ichigo tugged at his former enemy until Aizen was sitting next to him, and then pressed up against the other man until they were touching from shoulder to knee.
Ichigo gasped again, like he'd been drowning until that moment, and his head fell onto Aizen's shoulder. The former captain got the feeling that if he turned toward his companion, his eyes would be clear.
The two of them sat together for a long while.
“It won't stop,” Ichigo said softly. “Maybe earlier, we could have fought it, but it's in too deep now. I can't keep holding your hand forever, but--”
“Perhaps if the Shinigami spare my life, Urahara-san and I can find a solution.”
At once, Ichigo focused dark eyes on Aizen, and the older man suppressed a shiver. “That's the part you've never understood: there are no solutions, only more choices.”