Chapter 1: It's Not a Mental Malady
Bleach is not mine. Duh.
Holy crap, I started this fic back in like...September...but never finished it. Oh well! I finally did.
By the way...those who are savvy in medicine will like this!
Ulquiorra knew something was wrong as soon as he regained consciousness from sleeping a good twelve hours. He didn't feel right…
Frowning, Ulquiorra kicked the covers off with exasperation. He felt hot and sweaty, and slightly disoriented as he propped himself up with his elbows. His room spun around, and he immediately shut his eyes, hoping to stop the nausea forming in the pit of his unstable stomach. He swallowed, and his mouth tasted like sand and his throat felt like sandpaper. Like sandpaper on fire, ouch.
Ulquiorra grimaced minimally, and then collapsed back onto his bed. There was no way he would be able to attend Aizen's meeting today.
OOOOOO
Meanwhile, the well known (and only scientist) in Hueco Mundo, Szayel Aporro Grantz was sitting in his laboratory, mixing some chemicals together, and all the while ranting with whoever would listen. Meaning, his fraccion were sitting there, waiting until he finished. They were messing around and laughing gutturally—they were not paying attention, really.
"…such a self centered bastard…and that is why you don't g—"
Szayel stopped suddenly, all insults catching in his throat, a look of disgust crossing over his face. He looked as if someone had forced sour milk down his throat. His eyebrow quirked downward.
Szayel, as everyone knew, was always on top of all the scientific things happening in the oh so boring Hueco Mundo. If a tiny speck of dust landed on his beaker, he'd know.
In other words, Szayel sensed a germ. A virus, a bactertium. Something impure lurking around.
It was floating around Las Noches. He could smell it, and he could feel it. Szayel didn't like it one bit, actually, he couldn't concentrate on his work. Szayel slammed his flask down on his table and growled. His eyes narrowed dangerously behind his glasses.
"What is this infernal virus that floats in the air…?" he murmured to himself.
He looked over his shoulder at his fraccion, all with smiling faces, and few picking their noses. They waved at him and giggled stupidly.
Szayel looked away, frowning, and then finally decided to search Las Noches for "this infernal virus".
"Fraccion!" he barked. "Touch anything and you die. I'll be right back."
Slipping his lab coat off his shoulders, her set out to inspect the place…
OOOOOO
Aizen sat at the stupidly long table he held his meetings at. Doing a head count, he realized that Ulquiorra was gone. He didn't care that Szayel and quite a few others were gone. Oh no, not at all. They were nothing compared to his dearest Ulquiorra…
Rephrased: Holy crap WHERE is Ulquiorra?
Aizen blinked heavily and sucked on the inside of his cheek briefly.
"Gin," he said finally. "Where's Ulquiorra? Does anyone know? …Grimmjow, sit up. I don't want such imperfect posture. And don't lean so far over like that. It makes you look like you have no spine…anyway. Where's Ulquiorra?"
"I haven't seen him," Stark said, stifling a yawn.
Halibel agreed with a nod.
Aizen started to panic. Though no one could tell, of course, he simply nodded.
"But…he was here yesterday…and…that woman…he never sleeps in past seven…"Aizen mumbled, trying to connect this odd happening to his suspicions. His brain malfunctioned when he caught sight of Grimmjow once again.
"GRIMMJOW! I told you to sit up!" Aizen scolded severely.
"It's not my fault I feel like shit! Damn, what do I have to do to be left alone?" Grimmjow retorted caustically. He shot Aizen a very annoyed glance.
"…wait, what…?"
Aizen tried to relax and studied Grimmjow very carefully. He squinted and leaned forward in his chair.
Grimmjow's otherwise expressive face was dead of any emotion (he resembled Ulquiorra a little). Dark circles stained his skin under his eyes, and he looked much paler than usual—except for the pink patches on his cheeks. He stared at Aizen with a blank, somewhat irritated gaze. He kept sighing and making all these exaggerated faces, rubbing his temples and frowning, shifting in his seat. And coughing rather heavily as well.
"Grimmjow…"Aizen murmured, beckoning him over, "Come over here."
Grimmjow sighed deeply, and slid out of his seat. With heavy footsteps, he made his way to Aizen. Aizen looked him over, and then placed a hand on Grimmjow's forehead. His skin was warm and pasty. Aizen, grimacing, drew back, and wiped his hand on his hakama very conspicuously. Grimmjow was noticeably offended.
"You're warm. Wow, you are sick." Aizen said dumbly. He tipped his head to the side, almost looking concerned, if that was possible.
Grimmjow grunted and rubbed his eyes.
"Mmmm."
"What do you feel?"
"Eh. I'm fine…yeah, I feel terrible," Grimmjow said with a short wave of his hand. "but I just need some sleep."
"Yes, yes…go do that…" Aizen said, concerned. "You're dismissed."
Aizen's eyes swept the rest of the table worriedly. Noitora looked alright; he was messing around with his bracelets and humming a song to himself. His foot was tapping to slow, steady beat on the floor. Halibel was…being Halibel; all was fine there. Stark was sleepy…which was not surprising. Szayel was absent. Ulquiorra was absent. Ulquiorra was never absent. He was stoic, quiet, and very obedient. Ulquiorra would be there at Aizen's word.
"Have any of you seen Ulquiorra?" Aizen asked the remaining people at the table.
"No."
"Nah."
"I saw him last night. I bet he just raped that girl."
"Noitora, please."
"Well, excuse me! How do you know he's not bedridden by an STD?"
Aizen and Halibel threw Noitora the nastiest looks they could muster, and shook their heads, tut-tutting at his risqué insinuation. Noitora shrugged, palms up. He tried to look innocent, and pouted a little. He did not say anything, but he batted his eyes and gave Aizen his signature kiss-ass stare. Aizen replied with a harrumph.
"I lack my Espada." He said heavily. "And where are the others? Halibel, tell me."
"Zomari—mission. Yami went along with him, Oldie accompanied as well. Aaroniero is dead. Szayel in his lab, busy. Ulquiorra's whereabouts are unknown." Halibel recited robotically.
Aizen nodded very slowly, allowing the information to register in his cluttered mind.
"Would one of you be so kind as to fetch Szayel for me? I do believe I would like to talk to him."
Noitora took care of this: he sent Szayel a text message. And with Aizen's permission, the remaining Espada left.
OOOOOO
Szayel jumped a little when his cell phone vibrated viciously in his pocket. He waited for another vibration, signaling an actual phone call, but none came: it was a text message. He plucked the phone out of his pocket, read the text message, and was on his way to the meeting room.
OOOOOO
Aizen was biting his nails furiously. He couldn't even concentrate on his tea. Not only was his biting his nails, he was giving himself hangnails and cuts and nicks with the extreme gnawing action he had going on. He stared at his tea, and wished he could bite his nails and sip his tea at the same time, but of course that was impossible. He nearly jumped out of his seat and ran to Szayel when he saw Szayel stalk into the room smoothly. But Aizen masked his anxiety with a cool and collected face.
"You called, Aizen-sama?" Szayel said, dipping into a graceful bow.
"Yes." Aizen said tersely. "Grimmjow is sick."
Szayel blinked his yellow eyes a few times.
"Is he really?"
"Yes. And Ulquiorra did not show up this morning. At the meeting. You didn't either, but I know you were busy." Aizen said, interlacing his fingers. He gave Szayel a fixed, firm gaze.
"Quite." Szayel said curtly, coldly. "I sensed something impure this morning. A malignant microorganism floating around. As for Ulquiorra, I don't know where he is. Perhaps we should check?"
"Of course," Aizen said with a nod.
He slid out of his chair and flanked Szayel, who was walking at a leisurely pace up to Ulquiorra's room. Aizen wished he would go faster…poor Ulquiorra might've been in a terrible plight.
"Szayel," Aizen said in a very strained voice. "Could we—could we hurry up, please?"
"Sure." Szayel looked away, hiding his face from view. A sickly sardonic smile twisted his face. He worked hard to keep in a snigger, but he lengthened his strides and they were in front of Ulquiorra's room in no time.
Aizen and Szayel stared at the large white door, closed. They stood there, as if sizing it up. Aizen had the tips of the fingers on his right hand in his mouth, gnawing what was left of his nails.
Szayel rapped on the door, gently but loud enough for Ulquiorra inside to hear. They waited for an answer, but heard nothing.
"You open it." Aizen said urgently.
"No." Szayel said, with a quick shake of his head. "You open it."
Aizen winced, tightened his grip around the doorknob. But then he pushed it downward, leaned his weight on the door, and eased it open. Szayel, who was taller than him, craned his head and around Aizen, and they both peered into the dark, cold room. On a bed against the eastern wall, they could make out Ulquiorra's jet head among the white sheets he was tangled in.
Szayel prodded Aizen's shoulder, indicating he should go in. Aizen took a small step in, and relaxed once he saw that Ulquiorra was alive. An arm came out from the bundle of sheets, and was laid over something.
Szayel, instead of tiptoeing in, sashayed right into the room, and even turned on the lamp on Ulquiorra's bedside table.
"There you are." Szayel said warmly.
He studied Ulquiorra very curiously.
Ulquiorra's arm was slung over the top half of his face, and he was lying on his back. The corners of his mouth were turned down. He made an "mmm" sound in reply to Szayel.
"What's wrong with you?" Szayel asked with a frown. He came closer, and bent over Ulquiorra. Aizen scurried to Szayel's side.
"I…feel terrible." Ulquiorra said, his voice barely above a whisper. He removed the arm from over his eyes, and stared up at them both. His eyebrows seemed to be turned up a worried, pained look.
Szayel placed a hand on his forehead. He looked up at the ceiling, making some calculations.
"I'd say you're at one-oh-one point…four." Szayel estimated. His attention returned to Ulquiorra. "Talk to me. Name the symptoms."
"Nausea, dizziness—plenty of that—and my throat is killing me…my mouth is dry. And I have this horrid, throbbing feeling in my throat and headache to accompany that." Ulquiorra said. He inhaled deeply.
"A pounding pain, sharp pain…?" Szayel prompted.
"A migraine pain…pounding."
"Where?"
"Here." Ulquiorra placed his hand on the right side of his head, about 4 inches above his right eye. He closed his eyes.
"Ah." Szayel looked him over. "When was the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday."
"When did you start feeling this way?"
"Yesterday night. I took a pill and went to bed."
"But I assume you can't stomach a pill now?"
"That is correct."
Szayel hummed, and pulled back. He rubbed put a finger to his lip in thought, and sucked on his cheek. He was thinking hard.
"Strange…" he murmured. "Anyway. Grimmjow is sick as well. I'm going to go ask him. Apparently, this is a viral organism, and it travels fast. Rest for now. Drink water, if you can take it."
"Is he going to be okay?" Aizen asked fiercely. He glanced at the bedridden Ulquiorra.
Szayel nodded, scowling.
"Ulquiorra, I'll be back to swab your throat. It could be strep." He turned to Aizen. "Now, let's go talk to Grimmjow."
OOOOOO
They found Grimmjow in his room, sitting on his bed and watching TV. He was holding an icepack up to his forehead. His bleary eyes were focused on the screen, and occasionally he sniffed and coughed. He hand his sheets wrapped around him.
"Hi, Grimmjow." Szayel said rather greasily, striding into the room with Aizen behind. "How are you?"
Grimmjow shrugged and replied with a raspy, "Eh."
And they both interpreted that as an 'okay'.
"Still feeling crappy?" Szayel asked.
"Yeah." Grimmjow replied, sighing.
"Ulquiorra feels 'terrible' as well." Szayel said. He mentioned Ulquiorra's name to see if that would spark anything in Grimmjow, seeing they were mortal rivals.
"Fuck yes," Grimmjow said with a satisfied smirk. "He's worse than me. Hah—" Grimmjow's laughter was interrupted as he starting hacking violently. "—Hahah! Sorry, choked on some phlegm there…"
"I see that." Szayel answered, giving him a stern look. He stared at Grimmjow, and his eyebrows quirked downward in a frown. "Hey, Grimmjow, name your symptoms."
"Headache. Muscle pains, fever, phlegm-y cough…and I'm having issues breathing. And my phlegm is a weird color." Grimmjow said. He pounded his chest with his fist and took a deep breath.
Szayel raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh reeeeeally?"
"Yah really." Grimmjow answered darkly. "Don't believe me?"
"It's not that," Szayel said defensively, "But I don't think you need more sleep at all. In fact, let's get you an x-ray. Come on!"
Szayel beckoned to Grimmjow, and Grimmjow, perplexed, followed after them both. As they went down to Szayel's lab, Aizen started to relax a little, but he was still jumpy after seeing Ulquiorra. Then a question came to mind.
"Szayel? Are they both contagious?" Aizen asked, slowing down to the pace of Szayel's easy mosey. Really. He seemed so unhurried and relaxed, especially with an asylum of bacteria coughing next to him.
"Mm." Szayel shrugged. "I would think so, they both have fevers." To prove his point, Szayel put a hand on Grimmjow's forehead. Grimmjow sighed happily.
"It's cold," he said, smiling stupidly. He pointed to Szayel's hand.
"Yup." Szayel removed his hand. "And there you have it. We're here."
Szayel was the only person that could walk around the lab without getting lost. His lab was HUGE. It had so many different sections—the quarantine, the engineering, the pathogen suite, the chem site, and many others. Aizen didn't really like the feel of it: it was too cold and impersonal for him as they would through many dim corridors. Aizen made a point of pointing at the jars containing pickled organs. Grimmjow didn't really seem to care; he was busy complaining about chest pains. Szayel didn't listen to any of them, but he passed one of his fraccion along the way.
"Hey, you," Szayel snapped, "go to the medicine cabinet and fetch me some clarithromycin. The pill form, under the C's. Go tell Lumina to get a swab test from Ulquiorra, too. Tonsils, swab both and bring me a description of what his tonsils look like."
Aizen and Grimmjow exchanged confused glances. Aizen looked horrified, and Grimmjow, a little disgusted.
"Ah! Here. Szayel pushed a metal door open and led them into a relatively large room with high ceilings and dim lighting. Some strange gray contraption was suspended over a flat, hard table. Grimmjow's lip curled, looking at it.
"That looks hard. Ew."
"Well, of course!" Szayel said cheerfully. "It's made of metal, haha! Now, go lay there…Aizen-sama, stay where you are…"
Aizen was left standing in the doorway dumbly. He blinked and looked around curiously.
And Szayel nearly had to wrestle Grimmjow onto the table. He was being dysfunctional, and complaining about how hard it was and how long it would take. Szayel was arguing back bitterly. He succeeded by pushing Grimmjow onto the table with the help of adrenaline and then stunning him as he threw a lead apron at him, knocking the wind out of Grimmjow. He cried out in pain and then found himself unable to take a breath. Szayel giggled inside as he saw a look of panic come over Grimmjow's face—it was fleeting, but funny.
"Asshole!" Grimmjow panted. He threw Szayel a frenetic, sharp glance. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!"
"Hold still!" Szayel snapped, holding him down. "It's an x-ray. I'm not going to operate on you, geez. And it's not going to hurt."
"Pssh, whatever!" Grimmjow scoffed. Even so, he obeyed. He laid still as Szayel positioned the hanging contraption over his chest. Szayel seemed to be in deep thought: he seemed to be scowling and his top teeth were slightly visible as he bit his lip.
"Okay, now stay very still. Don't move, don't breathe for a few seconds."
Grimmjow watched Szayel out of the corner of his eye. Szayel scurried back behind some wall, dragging Aizen along with him. The next thing he heard was a quick, shrill beep, and a slightly longer whirring sound.
"Done!" Szayel announced, waltzing out from behind the wall. He took the lead apron off of Grimmjow and pulled him up rather affectionately.
"Now what?" asked Grimmjow, teetering a little.
And Szayel disappeared behind the metal wall, returning in a flash holding the x-rays. Grimmjow could see his ribs faintly, as the x-ray wasn't held up to the light yet. Szayel tipped it upward against the light, and studied. He hummed deeply. Grimmjow stood next to him, looking on curiously. He had no idea what Szayel was looking at.
"Grimmjow, how long have you had the cough?" Szayel demanded.
"Oh…like…two weeks…but then it got worse a few days ago and fever attacked me yesterday…" Grimmjow replied.
"Don't ignore such things!" Szayel said in a rather shrill voice. "Double pneumonia!"
"Which means…?" Aizen asked eagerly, scurrying to Szayel's side. He looked pretty worried.
"Pneumonia in not one, but both lungs." Szayel said flatly. He tucked the x-ray under his arm and shook his head. "What a disgrace. Grimmjow, you need to take better care of yourself!"
"But I—"
"Especially if you're coughing up weird phlegm, my goodness! And fevers and chest pains—"
"Sza—"
"Don't interrupt me!" shrieked Szayel. He opened his mouth to start the reprimands, but instead gasped a little when his fraccion tapped his shoulder and held out a small bottle to him.
"Oh, thank you!" Szayel took it from him. "Where was I—oh yes, those symptoms are serious. Double pneumonia, this will take a while to clear up. By the way, it's bacterial too. Get ready for a crapload of antibiotics! Anyway…yes, well, I think I have my point across, right?"
Grimmjow nodded grimly, snatching the bottle from Szayel. He was ready for his fun time.
"Two doses a day, every twelve hours. You're extremely contagious right now. I will send for a servant to get your meals daily. Quarantine will last two weeks, and call me if you experience difficulty breathing—oh, side effects are to be expected—dizziness, all that…"
Grimmjow had never heard someone talk so fast or energetically.
"Okay…" Grimmjow replied slowly. He made a face and tried to leave the room without Szayel noticing.
"One more thing!" he called after Grimmjow. "No socialization with anyone! I'll be back to check on you tomorrow! Have fun!"
Grimmjow gave Szayel his middle finger halfheartedly, bust Szayel was already distracted by Lumina, who had returned with the sacred swabs.
"Thanks," Szayel said. "Describe them to me."
"Red with white spots and dark red spots on the roof of his mouth."
"Hm. Most likely strep…no one here has mono. Aizen-sama?"
Aizen was staring at Szayel with wide eyes.
"My little Ulquiorra…in pain…?"
"Yes." Szayel said irritably, crossing the hallway with Aizen on his heels. "Strep is very painful for some people. Stand back—just give me a sec to examine the swabs…"
Szayel slid the swabs under a microscope. He adjusted it a little, and pressed his eye to it. Szayel made a satisfied sound in his throat.
"What? What was that?" Aizen demanded.
"Strep," he declared, "It is, in fact, streptococcus type A beta hemolytic…I can tell by the bacteria cultures, here, and where they are…yep."
Szayel pulled back, passing right by Aizen and striding off to another room down the hallway. Aizen rolled his eyes and followed. He didn't really want to be alone here. But before he walked into the room, Szayel came out, holding a rather large bottle. He was reading the label.
"He's going to get a huge dose." Szayel stated as they exited the medical ward and into the 'foyer' of his lab. "Eight hundred seventy five milligrams, twice a day, of amoxicillin-clavulanate. Oooh, I pity him. That's going to kill his kidneys."
"No!"
"I meant it figuratively." Szayel said firmly. "He'll need to say hydrated"
Aizen sighed his worries away.
"Thank you very much, Szayel." Aizen said sincerely. He held the door open for Szayel as he strode out of the lab. Szayel even looked a bit smug.
"Not a problem," Szayel said with an extremely saccharine smile. He looked like smiling for Aizen was killing him. Aizen didn't notice.
"Now, if you will excuse me," Aizen said, tossing his head of shiny brown hair, "I have some paperwork to do. Tell Ulquiorra I will let him remain in bed for as long as he needs to—how long will he be contagious?"
"Let's see…twenty four hours after his first dose of the medication. Chances are he won't be feeling well, though." Szayel answered thoughtfully.
"Oh! Well, tell him I'll let him stay in bed for a week." Aizen nodded, looking at the ceiling as if he were trying to remember something. "That is all."
And with that, Aizen shunpoed to his office, leaving Szayel alone in the corridor. The smile fell off Szayel's face the second he left. Szayel, unwilling to walk a marathon to get to Ulquiorra's room, sonido'ed himself to the very front of Ulquiorra's door. "…control freak…little fucker…" Szayel murmured as he lumbered into the room.
"Ulquiorra, you've got strep…" but Szayel stopped, seeing it was futile to talk to Ulquiorra.
Ulquiorra had fallen asleep. And Szayel was pleased to see he looked a little better. Lumina must've brought something for him. Szayel decided to scrawl Ulquiorra a quick note about dosage and his disease and other things (the noted ended up using three pieces of notebook paper—two pages describing strep type A beta hemolytic and one page describing the necessary things).
Szayel, satisfied with himself, strode out of the room, closing the door behind him. He stretched his arms and yawned. That was quite an adventure. Time for relaxation: screwing around with the chemical structure of uranium…but as he walked down the hallway, he heard fast footsteps and heavy breathing. In fact, he nearly collided with Tesla as he rounded a corner.
"Szayel-sama!" panted Tesla, doubling over to catch his breath. "Noitora just sliced open his hand cooking! Come stitch him up, it's a bloodbath! And—and Halibel is dying! Her lower abdomen hurts!"
What do I look like to you, a paramedic, Szayel thought. The corners of his mouth turned down and he sighed heavily. Radon would have to wait. He actually felt like exposing Tesla to uranium right now, but he couldn't…damn. Oh well. Being a scientist has its fun, more often than not. Besides, it's not everyday Aizen's elite forces get sick and cut themselves.
Oh, man. Can anyone tell I REALLY want to work in the medical field, or what? And by the way, I have to take those 875 mg pills for MY streptococcus type A bet hemolytic infection a few weeks ago. Amox-clav sucks. It effs up your stomach, BAD.
Anyway! Thanks for reading, and reviews are really appreciated!
Will also be CONTINUED.