Grimmjow stared at the bloodied form laying between the debris and sand. He stared and stared, as if trying to make sense of the situation in front of him. The sunken form in front of him was somehow familiar and an unsettling feeling wormed it's way into the pit of the stomach, forcing him to take a step forward and-

He flinched. He phyiscally flinched as he recognized them, their beaten face, their bloodied limbs sent a shiver down his spine and before his own mind even registered what was going on, he was by their side, kneeling besides them, his hands frantically shaking their form. They were playing tricks on him, weren't they? They were too strong to get seriously injured. Hell, they had even defeated him, the former sexta espada!

"The hell are you doing-?! Get up!, GET UP!" Grimmjow snapped - but his voice sounded strained and panicked even in his own ears. They were so- lifeless. He had to do something, anything-