Author's Note: Welcome to the sequel to Heaven's Not Enough. This one is very loosely based on the All Dogs go to Heaven 2, mostly because the plot worked better when assembled like this, the characters in the second movie had all changed (minus the two main ones) and because I really don't like the second movie as much as the first. As before I will post warnings at the start of each chapter for such things and language, limes, character death and blood. The posting schedule will remain the same (Wednesday and Friday) unless something unforeseen comes up. So, please, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, All Dogs go to Heaven 2 or the song Your Guardian Angel; they all belong to their respective owners. I do, however, own everything in between.

Warnings: blood, character death

Your Guardian Angel

Chapter One

The young man shuffled nervously into a corner, pressing back against the cottony surface as people passed him, too deep in their own conversation to notice him. He breathed a sigh of relief before dashing toward the end of the Oriental rug, plunging deep into the tangle of reeds that followed it. He grunted as the stalks of papyrus pushed against him, raising his hands to cover his face as he ran.

He stumbled as he neared the end of the field, jumping awkwardly to one side to avoid a log that was stuck among the reeds. It was probably just a log, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Shaking slightly from the incident with the log, the young man clambered out of the reeds, glancing around him once more before sitting on an edge, legs dangling off into the empty space. He closed his eyes, steadying himself before resigning himself to waiting.

Thankfully, the one he was meeting did not make him wait long. The young man straightened himself up as a low growl rumbled close to him, seeming to come from his mind. "So you have come."

"Yes. You said you could help me leave here."

"Yes."

"Leave as in go back to Domino and earth?"

"Yes." There was a note of warning in the deep voice this time, the inflection making the young man flinch back. "There is, of course, a price for my good will."

"Anything! Anything to leave this place! It's hell!"

"I'm glad to hear that. Now, I need you to get me that book." The young man shifted nervously, earning a snarl from the voice. "Or do you not wish to return?"

"No!" The young man was nodding, but the voice kept going.

"And yet you still hesitate. I thought you wanted to leave this place?"

"I'll snatch it at the first opportunity."

"Be sure to find that clock. I will need it."

The young man twitched at that mention, rubbing a hand over his face as he almost spoke. If he had spoken at that moment, he was sure that his voice would have trembled. He gave himself a rough shake, pulling himself together. He feared no man or beast, especially not now. "It might take longer than we both think. It would be foolish to be caught."

The voice gave a grumble of acceptance before disappearing completely from his mind, leaving the angel sitting on the edge of the cloud bank. The angel gave a sigh before standing up, unconsciously adjusting his halo before turning and beginning his struggles through the mass of papyrus again.

He pushed out into the open, stepping onto the ornate rug and brushing himself down, glad that it was the last time he would be making that journey. Movement from the main pathway made him look up abruptly, giving him enough time to jump to the side as more angels passed by, all of the congregating for something.

He groaned, almost slapping his own forehead as he remembered. They were gathering for the new assignments, and he would have to be there as well. He straightened up and joined the throng on the path, waiting until the angel in front of him took off before he followed into the sky. He looked down at the path, not surprised to see one lonely figure in black trudging along. Noa gave a mocking wave before following the flow of angels.

Ryou shut the door firmly behind him. He ran a hand over the wood before abruptly turning away and pushing his hands into his pockets. He had meant to stay in and finish the book he was reading or some of the book keeping for the Palace of Thebes. And those activities led to his problem.

It had been two years since the whole fiasco, and everything had managed to settle back down; almost too quickly for Ryou's sake. Especially when he kept getting glimpses of things that made him want to break down. It had been two years since Yugi had officially moved in with his grandfather on the other side of the river, in the socially acceptable side of Domino.

It had been two years since Yami had died in the fire that also claimed the Baroness. Two years exactly.

Today, like it had last year, the occupants of the house stuttered to a stop, suddenly unable to exist as they remembered something that seemed somewhat duller during the rest of the year. Bakura went out and did whatever Bakura did while he was mourning, staying out until he had to be dragged home by a friend. And then he locked himself in his room, sleeping.

Ryou, on the other hand, tried to keep on existing. After all, it was just another day of the year. A day just like any other. He had tried to read, unable to continue when he turned the page and Yami's bookmark fell out. It was a random piece of paper, but still, it was just too much. Ryou had nearly thrown down the book in a rush to find something else to do.

He had buried himself in the piles of paperwork that Mahad brought over, throwing himself into the mind numbing work that was the records for the casino. And that had brought him through at least three more hours until he had had to reference an earlier record. And that's when it had happened; Ryou had found himself skimming down a column of numbers in Yami's handwriting.

Ryou had to get out of the house after that. There were just too many memories today.

Yami was gone and he was not coming back. Ryou had to keep telling himself this. There was no trick that Yami could have used to get him out of the burning ship, especially not when the traitorous voice in the back of Ryou's mind was telling him that Yami had been dead long before they had noticed Yugi floating toward them on a plank of wood.

Ryou pulled a hand from his pocket to rub over his face, trying to push the few tears that had escaped away. He continued down the street of the neighborhood, not really looking at the group of eclectic houses that lined the road to either side of him. He altered his course to head for the swamp instead of his original destination of the old church.

What he wanted to be doing right now was curling up with Bakura and spending the day in abject misery together. But he wasn't sure if Bakura was even home yet. For all he knew, Bakura could have gone out of town to fetch the last member of their little group. After all, Marik had sent them a note saying he was coming back any day now.

Ryou groaned, hands fisting in his pockets. They hadn't even thought of how to tell Marik about Yami's demise yet, both Bakura and Ryou still struggling to cope without the tri-color haired teen. Marik was one of the two out of the loop, the second being Yugi. And Ryou was still working up the courage to disillusion Yugi.

After all, it had been Yugi who had brought the strain on the peace that the rag-tag family had possessed. Yugi had been the weak one who needed Yami to protect him. Yugi had been the one to be captured by Noa a second time when he let his emotions run rampant. For Yugi, Yami had died.

And Yugi still didn't know.

Ryou had only been to see Yugi once since that night of the boat. He remembered being disconcerted by the city, finding himself sidling along through the shadows before he forced himself to walk in the light. He was just bring attention to himself moving that way, pining him for some kind of pick pocket or someone guilty of a crime. And he didn't need people thinking that since he already came from the wrong side of town in their minds. He had tried to walk with his head high, but still unable to meet the gazes of anyone who walked on the street. Ryou had slipped on a mask of indifference, pretending to be occupied and rushing along, hoping his mask would hold. That control had lasted until he had reached the game shop where Yugi lived and was greeted by that smile.

And that clueless answer to his announcement that Yami was gone.

"Of course he's gone. He told me had had to leave for a while. But he'll be back. Good-bye isn't forever, you know."

Ryou could only stare in disbelief before he had excused himself and ran all the way back to his side of town. He envied the ability to believe a dream brought on by sickness; believe it with such fervor that the truth couldn't shatter the conviction. He envied the faith that Yugi had. Because Ryou couldn't bring himself to hope.

Dead was dead. There was no coming back.

Automatically, he allowed his feet to take him toward where the Baroness had once been moored, an idea finally beginning to form to distract him from the memories. He would go to the shore and say his good-bye before going back to work. He could afford to let the façade slip for a bit.

Ryou turned to follow the street that led to the remains of the boardwalk that had led to the ship, his stride faltering as he saw the collection of flowers that had been placed on the shore. He came to a stop in the middle of the road, brown eyes wide as he watched the wind gently play with a few of the roses.

He broke down then, standing and hugging himself as he fought the tears that threatened to choke him. Yami had meant so much to everyone on this side of Domino. And the people missed their Pharaoh.

Ryou was completely lost in his own world, drowning in the swirl of memories and tears. He missed the sound of the wind as it picked up, making some of the flowers lift and drift to land in the water. He also missed the sound of a car engine.

Weevil gripped the steering wheel with his good hand, his left cradled in his lap. He gave the mutilated hand a hateful glance before focusing back on the lone figure standing in the road before him. He would recognize that white hair anywhere. Yami's precious sycophant, Ryou, was on his own.

He revved the engine with a smile. His life had been ruined since that night on the Baroness. Not only had he been in the hospital for weeks because of a broken neck, but no one had bothered to pick him up from where Yami had thrown him earlier, allowing his left hand to get horribly burned. And the injury to his neck had left him with no feeling in that arm.

But at least the old steamboat had gotten rid of Yami for him. He owed the Baroness one for that.

With Yami out of the way, he only had one person to focus his anger at. And Ryou was all alone right now. And it didn't look like Ryou had any idea that Weevil was idling behind him.

Decision made, Weevil pressed the pedal to the floor. Ryou still had no inkling that he was rushing up behind him. It was just too perfect. Weevil smirked, just hit the teen and run, perfect plan. The smirk stayed on his face as he braced himself for impact.

Yugi pushed the textbook off his bed and sprawled backwards on his bed, groaning as he stretched out. He flung one arm up to cover his eyes as he rested. At least all his homework was done, or all the homework that he could stand at the moment. He shifted, one violet eye peeking out from under his arm to glare at the book he could just see out of the corner of his eye.

Looking for something to distract him, he glanced over at the desk that sat next to his bed, smiling as he stared at the picture in the frame. Four smiles were returned, one of them his own. Yugi sat up, pulling the picture to him to look at it closely.

The three friends he had made within the past two years smiled up at him, all trying to attempt to squeeze into the picture. Yugi was nearly being crushed out of the bottom of the picture as Joey leaned on his head, fingers raised in a goofy peace sign toward the camera. Flanking the blonde were his two brunette friends, Tea and Tristan, both laughing at Yugi's plight.

He chuckled to himself before setting the picture back on his desk. Catching a glimpse of gold, Yugi pushed off his bed and walked around to the front of his desk, reverently brushing the crown that sat there. He picked it up and walked back to his bed, turning it in the light.

The crown only came out when his friends weren't over, because Yugi didn't want to explain it. What had seemed alright in the world on the other side of the river didn't seem right over here. He didn't want to talk about the guy he had fallen in love with and kissed, not when the tales of his initial kidnapping where elaborated at his own school. He didn't need his time with Yami turned into a sordid romantic blunder.

So he kept the one physical reminder of that time hidden, only his grandfather knew that it existed. And his grandfather respected that Yugi didn't want what happened to him widely known. Yugi was more than happy to just slip back into the woodwork and remain anonymous for the rest of his days.

Besides, he couldn't even wear the thing. He had tried once, but had taken it off almost immediately. There was just something about the plastic crown. Although Yami had given it to him, a joke that the fake title of King of Games was being passed to him, it wasn't right. Yugi just wasn't the Pharaoh.

Yugi's smile disappeared at the thought, gaze turning to his skylight. He looked out to the sky, not really seeing anything that was going on. Absentmindedly, he let his fingers brush over the crown, sweeping off the ends and finding the one chip in the paint that was shaped like a teardrop.

When was Yami coming back? He had told Yugi that he was just going to sort things out, but how long did that take? And what things was he sorting out?

Noa's body, or what was left of it, had been found in the prior year; mauled almost beyond recognition. That had started the fear of swimming because of alligators, which Yugi had laughed at. There was only one alligator to worry about in the area and that was Ammut. Ammut would never harm him.

So Yami hadn't gone into hiding to escape Noa. The authorities had finally called Yugi's mother's murder a cold case, and Yugi didn't press for a verdict. Noa had gotten what he deserved in the end, who was he to try a dead man?

Yugi twisted to put the crown back on his desk, resting it beside the picture of his friends. He sighed, good mood suddenly gone. He wrapped himself up in his blanket, closing his eyes. If he could just imagine it was Yami here instead of a blanket…but it was fruitless. A small whimper escaped his lips as he fell sideways onto the bed, burying his head in his pillow.

"Yami, I miss you."

Aknadin edged his way through the flow of people, forcing himself not to flinch away from them as they bumped into him. Critically, his blue eyes swept through the crowd, his face twitching as he held back his true feelings. What kind of place did his nephew live in?

He glanced down at the paper he held tightly in one hand, skimming over the information that had been briefly given to him. To find his nephew, he first had to find a place called the Palace of Thebes. And then, he might find where he was.

Aknadin shook his head, allowing the longer exhale to be his only sight of annoyance. Why was the boy making it so hard for him to be found? After all, his uncle was genuinely worried about him. It was the duty of the older brother to look after the younger. And when Aknadin's brother's family suddenly disappeared, he went searching.

It had been easy at first, finding that his little brother had moved here with the beginnings of his family, settling in Domino on the other side of the river. There, the youngest daughter had been born. Apparently, from what he could glean from old neighbors, they were quite a likeable family.

Then, the economy had taken a turn for the worse. The family had troubles with money and the oldest child disappeared, dead or alive, no one knew. The parents, Aknadin's little brother and his wife, had died a few years later, leaving their young daughter behind.

Aknadin had spoken with the orphanages, getting no answer about his niece until one horrible day. He had found the place where she had been, a cheery little place. But they had told him that his niece had died at nine; disease was the official word. Suicide was whispered by some of the staff when he asked them, something that his mind still had a hard time accepting. How could one kill themselves at nine?

So that had left him with his nephew, the ever elusive one during this whole chase. All the leads that he had found led to dead ends. Nobody seemed to know about his nephew, even when he showed pictures to them. Aknadin pushed his way out of the crowd, hand twitching with the urge to take out one of them now. It was the only connection he had been allowed with his disowned brother.

He turned down a street, eyes widening at the flashy front of the casinos, eyes moving automatically to the one that reminded him the most of his home. Although glaringly inaccurate, the Palace of Thebes was a welcome break from the rest of the casinos which had been done up with bright colors and neon lights.

He hesitated at the door before going in, shuddering at the environment. He was a businessman, a good businessman. And yet he had never gone into a casino, simply because there was nothing that attracted him about the establishments. He was single, so there was no wife and children to escape from and his luck was horrible; a fact learned from a childhood trying to best his younger brother in games.

Aknadin took a deep breath before walking further in, his eyes immediately going to the bar. There had to be someone there willing to talk to him. Carefully, he wove his way through the growing crowd, aware that it would get bigger as more businesses shut their doors for the day. He squeezed out of the mass of people and found a seat at the bar, right beside a man who had his head buried in his arms. Aknadin only got a glimpse of white hair before the bartender walked over to him.

"I was told that someone in here could help me." Aknadin spoke before the bartender could, wanting to get this over with and get out of the casino. "I'm looking for my nephew."

"Try up at the old church, that's where all the orphaned kids go."

"He's probably older than you think." Aknadin chuckled a bit, leaning on the bar. The man's voice, while slightly irritated, was not unkind. "He's been missing for a while and it's taken me this long just to get this far."

"So who are you looking for?" The man mimicked Aknadin's position, his brown eyes kind.

"Atemu Seti."

He had been ready for any reaction; disbelief, laughter or even confusion. But he had not been ready for the depth of sadness in the man's eyes or the pity that seemed to leak from the people within hearing range. Aknadin looked around in surprise, gaze flitting back to the bartender as he stood up straight. "Atemu was your nephew."

"Yes." He was eager now, the reaction had proved that they knew where he was, that he wasn't just chasing a lie this time. "Do you know where he is?"

The bartender seemed to clam up at that moment, looking down at the bar. Aknadin turned his head, surprised as others did the same. A sharp bark of laughter from the man beside him made him turn around, jumping at the harsh look in the russet eyes. "Yeah, we all know where the Pharaoh is."

The man shifted his position, sitting up and leaning on the bar with one arm. "You picked a bad time to show up and ask about him though?"

"Why?" Aknadin had to wonder at the strange nickname that his nephew had acquired, quickly shaking it off as nothing important. "Where is my nephew?"

The man pointed over his shoulder, shifting so Aknadin could look as well. "Just go that way for a while…or ask someone how to get to the swamps. Or better yet, ask for where the Baroness was. You'll find your nephew there, at the bottom of the swamp."

Aknadin's mind ceased to function, turning over the words that refused to make sense. Why would Atemu be there? Unless… "How long?"

"Two years today." Aknadin winced, looking away from the man. He jumped as the bartender placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"If it is any consolation, many people respected your nephew."

"Thanks." His voice cracked over the work, but he found that he did not care. The last of his family was gone now.

It was amazing. He had spent the whole day here and was still on his first drink. Bakura absently played with the glass. If he hadn't already known the reason, he would have been worried about the state of his mental health. But there was a reason, thank the gods. It was his memory.

Everywhere he went he was chased by the memory of Yami. Everyone had known him. Everyone had loved him. And everyone mourned him.

The house had held too many ghosts and the streets held too many like the thief. The sound of daily life had been muted as the people mourned the loss of their Pharaoh. And, the most startling thing to Bakura, was the spread of the thing.

In escaping the house, he had followed the river until he had reached the limits of Domino, and still found people who knew Yami. Which led to him losing himself in the crowd at the Palace of Thebes, wanting to lose himself among people as miserable as himself.

Forcing himself away from his thoughts, Bakura stood up, looking over at Mahad as he drew away from the man who claimed to be Yami's uncle. Bakura felt a smattering of sympathy for him before the misery infringed on him again. He stepped away from the bar, the movement getting Mahad's attention. A raised eyebrow posed a question that Bakura had to answer.

"I'm going down to the Baroness. Hopefully that will drive all of this," he waved around vaguely, trying to encompass the whole gambit of messed up emotions running around in his head, "away."

Mahad nodded and stepped around the bar, another employee sliding into his place. "I'll go with you. I haven't visited yet this year."

"Should we take him?" The next motion was to Yami's uncle, who was still staring right through the bar.

"No, he'll come when he's ready to." Mahad walked through the crowd, people moving out of the way to allow him and Bakura to walk out into the dimming light. Bakura immediately took the lead, shivering a little in the chill after being in the warm casino.

The two of them moved along at a good pace, neither dragging their feet. It was a habit for both of them, they moved everywhere with a purpose, no energy wasted. Even with the pace, night was falling as they reached the road that led to the resting place of the old steamboat.

Bakura sighed, watching his breath rise up as a cloud of vapor, too focused on that to notice that Mahad had stopped. When the sound of the other's footsteps was not heard behind him, Bakura turned back around, shooting a questioning glance at the casino owner.

Mahad was staring at something ahead in the road, shock the only thing that kept him in place. Bakura snorted, shaking his head. Of course the monument that had appeared last year had grown in size. People had probably been trekking here all day. It probably took up the whole shoreline by now.

His thoughts trailed off as Mahad took a shaky step forward. This wasn't that kind of shock. It was another kind, the kind that Bakura had seen and experienced too recently. With his heart pounding in double time, the thief turned around, staring at the road.

He didn't know if the scream was Mahad's or his own, but he did know that he was running while the shout echoed around them. "Ryou!"

Bakura rushed immediately to Ryou's side, kneeling down to check for a pulse. His fingers rested on the side of Ryou's neck, his own breath muffled as he waited to feel anything. There was no movement under his fingertips, just cold flesh.

Bakura jerked his hand away like it had been burned, staring at the body with slowly dawning comprehension. No pulse. No breathing. He flinched as he rocked forward, placing his hand on something that wasn't the road. Bakura glanced down, staring at the dried blood. He felt bile rise in his throat.

"Bakura!" The thief turned at the sound of his name being called. Mahad was standing by the car, holding a triumphant looking Weevil by the collar.

Bakura snapped, standing abruptly to storm over. He pulled Weevil away from Mahad before the man had a change to react and slammed Noa's former right hand man against the back of his own car. "Why did you do it?! Why did you kill Ryou?!"

To his annoyance, Weevil just laughed. Bakura snarled and shook the smaller teenager, watching as he continued laughing. "Tell me!"

"Doesn't the Pharaoh deserve a servant in heaven?" Weevil hadn't even finished his answer before Bakura threw him to the side, intending to snap his neck with his own two hands. Mahad caught the smaller man before that, pulling him away from Bakura.

"It's what he wants, Bakura. Don't give him that satisfaction."

"But what about what I want?" Bakura twisted to point to the body lying on the side of the road. "This is Ryou! He took him away from…" Bakura sagged, all the anger leaving his body suddenly. He turned and stumbled back to the body, kneeling down beside it again. "Just do what you want. Doesn't matter."

He didn't see Mahad's nod, or see the casino owner walk away. He was too lost in his own thoughts. Bakura reached out again before snatching his hand back, cradling it with his other as if to replicate what he wanted to do. It just wasn't fair, first Yami and now Ryou. His Ryou…

Bakura gulped, forcing the tears back. He had promised himself and Yami that nothing would happen to Ryou, not while he was around. And he had failed. Failed spectacularly.

He suddenly could be there anymore. Bakura stood up quickly and turned, running away into the night. He chose a direction in random, sprinting through the emptying streets of the shady side of Domino, ignoring the confused stares that were thrown his way. All he wanted to do was outrun the image burned in his head. He wanted to outrun the memories that threatened to drown him.

Yay new story?

Ready and review. Criticism is always appreciated. Flames will be laughed at.

*runs and hides* Don't hurt the author!