Home
Home is not where you live, but where they understand you.
– Charles Morgenstern
Series: YuGiOh
Rating: R – For violence, language, and strong sexual content
Genre: Drama, Romance, Action
Pairings: KaibaXJoey (PUPPYSHIPPING)
Summary: Joey Wheeler and Seto Kaiba are tormented by their fathers in different ways. While Joey suffers from his father's physical abuse, Kaiba is subjected to mental abuse and isolation. When both boys run away and find each other by unexpected circumstance, they share their pain with one another in more ways than one.
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh. All rights are reserved to their respectful owners (Do you know how much it kills me to say that?). I do however, own the plot, so do NOT steal it! …Seriously, I worked really hard on this so have some respect.
EA: This story was brought to you by the randomness that is me. It was NOT brought to you by the evilness that is 4KIDS! Also, as a warning, this story contains YAOI. Now, if you do not approve of Yaoi or Puppyshipping, I kindly ask you to press the back button now. I know this is a long author's note, but seriously, I want to get this out of the way now. That way, I don't have to mention it again. And finally, at the beginning of each chapter (before the Chapter #) there will be a little piece of 1st person POV by either Joey or Seto, along with a quote (or song lyric). They alternate each chapter. That is all! Now, please read, review, and enjoy!
From the deepest desires often come the deadliest hate.
- Socrates
Just by lookin' at me, what do you see? You see Joey Wheeler, the strong, kick ass duelist who has awesome friends and an awesome life. But what if I told you that you was wrong? That it was a lie?
I'd be one of the first to agree that Tea's 'friendship' speeches are lame and sometimes just friggin' exhausting to listen to, but I can't say that I don't believe in what she's sayin', cause I do! Friendship is important to me. It's the best part of my life. Hell, it's the only good part of my life!
…Cause when I go back to that house, my "home", everything turns to crap. My bastard dad makes sure of it.
Now, I know what you're thinkin'. 'If you hate it so much when your dad takes a swing at you, why not go get the cops?' It aint that easy!
First of all, if my dad goes to jail and loses custody over me, I'll be stuck in the system, which means leaving this small town and all my friends to go to the inner-city orphanage. My Ma don't give a lick about me. She thinks I'm just like my dad. She won't even let me see Serenity, so there's no way she'd ever take me in!
What am I supposed to do? I can't go to my friends. They can't know about this… It's just downright embarrassing, especially when your best buds see you as the tough guy who don't take crap from nobody! Plus, they have enough on their plates already. Tea's waiting tables still, trying to get money to go off dancin' in New York. Tristan's gotten into his bike a heck of a lot lately; I hear he's working part-time at his Uncle's bike shop. Yugi…well, since he became the King of Card Games, when he's not in school, he's off at a press conference or a convention someplace. Besides, even if they did find out, they'll just rattle my cage with pity, anyways. And the great Joey Wheeler don't need pity!
So what do I do? I deal with it. I deal with the screaming, the punches, the beer bottles, and even the bat. What I can't deal with is my friends knowing. If they're just there to make me forget, even for a few hours during school, that's all I need. Yeah, I know that's fucked up, but it's me.
Chapter 1
Amber eyes darted to the clock on the wall.
'2 minutes…'
Long fingers gripped and shoved textbooks into the book bag on the floor. Joey Wheeler moved quickly through his morning routine. He only had about two minutes before his father woke up hung-over, pissed, and looking for Joey to take it out on.
Joey pulled the blue jacket of his uniform over his bruised arms. The smooth skin was decorated with deep purple and red bruises, some resembling imperfect circles, others in long thick lines that resembled fingers. Joey barely twitched in pain as he brought the jacket over his shoulders. He was far more concerned in getting out of the small two bedroom apartment before…
"Hey…asshole."
The groan from the other room made Joey tense.
"Go get me some coffee…" The cold growl of Joey's father crept through the walls and sunk into the teen's mind making him shiver.
Slowly, the seventeen year old youth rose, grabbed his bag, and walked into the small living room. The smell that permeated the air was enough to make Joey gag. The smells of beer and Jack Daniel's whiskey floated up his nostrils along with the stench of tobacco. Joey kicked a Budweiser pony neck with his toe as he stopped by the door and deposited his bag. Turning around he spotted his father sitting in his familiar spot on the aged sofa. Joey was convinced that the cushion, on which his father had lived since the divorce, well over ten years ago, had turned into a sinkhole. The old boards supporting his father had to give at some point.
The squeak of the springs brought Joey back, and he anxiously turned his eyes to his father, preparing for any move he made.
The older man held his balding head in his left hand, and he took a hit off a cigarette from his right. His beady black eyes swirled from dizziness deduced from a combination of his hangover and the nicotine. Joey could almost feel his heart stop as those eyes came into focus and rolled up to him.
"Did I stutter? Get moving!" He bellowed, and then had to hold his head again as the sound of his own voice was too much for his ears.
Joey started, but soon steadied himself to walk into the kitchen. Trying to focus on breathing, thoughts ran rapidly through his head. If his father got his coffee and turned on his morning TV shows, Joey could quit the room quietly. Perhaps he wouldn't have to lie to his friends about a brawl he got into on the way to school when he showed up with a bruised face.
From the living room, Joey heard the small TV in the corner click onto the morning news. His nerves calmed the slightest inch. 'Just focus on the show, old man. Let me get this instant crap and get the hell out of here…' With lightening speed Joey grabbed his dad's mug from the strainer and filled it with water. Turning around to the pantry, he opened the door and reached for the instant can of Folgers on the shelf.
Joey started at how light the can was. Internally shuddering, he popped open the lid, and cursed profusely under his breath when he saw that it was empty. His fingers tightened over the can into a death grip, and he silently wished he could burn a hole through it.
"The fuck is the hold up?" The raspy hiss of his father made Joey spin around. 'I didn't hear the couch squeak… Shit.' His father steadied himself by putting his fists on both counters, effectively blocking the golden boy's exit.
"We're out of coffee." Joey said, holding up the empty can for his father to see. It almost surprised him how calm his voice sounded. The terrified teenager was trembling inside, but he knew it was futile to even be scared. It's not as though shaking in fear or screaming for help had ever helped him before.
The older man's body began to shiver in anger, and his shoulders hunched. "You stupid idiot." He took a step towards Joey.
The youth stepped back; his body was trying to avoid the inevitable. Within three steps Joey's back was pressed against the wall of the small kitchen. The narrow walkway was blocked by the hulking shadow of the boy's father. There was no way he could escape. The tense silence in the air was broken by the poignant ticking by the clock above Joey's head. In the few seconds he had left before he couldn't think of anything at all, he thought of how late he was going to be for school. If this took as long as most of the attacks did, Joey would miss the morning train, and he would have to run up a series of hills to reach his school. He'd be lucky if he got in before the gate closed.
His eyes blinking back into focus, Joey noticed how close his father was to him now. He could see the deepness of his eyes, the swirling wild emotions of rage with a lust for blood, the desire to cause pain. Joey winced instinctively; preparing himself for the punch that he knew was coming.
The fist that collided with Joey's face sent him flying into the refrigerator to the left. Magnets clattered to the floor. As he pulled his face off of the cold door, his hazy gaze noted the small splotch of red blood on its white surface. Dizzily, the boy took a step, forward, backward, he wasn't sure. He swung his fist blindly, connecting with nothing but the air.
Pain shot through Joey's spine then as his father's clasped fists connected with the back of his neck. 'When did he… get behind… me?' The words came lazily to Joey's mind. The linoleum floor greeted him with a resounding smack.
The teen grunted in pain, blood drooling down the side of his mouth. He coughed, and barely registered the blood he hacked onto the floor. A sharp kick to his ribs flipped Joey onto his back, and he yelped in pain. This only gave his father an easier angle to attack, and the man began to chuckle as he realized it. The man's foot sank into Joey's stomach with ease, forcing the air from the boy's lungs and spit up to fly from his mouth. "Look at you! You can't even defend properly! You're such a pussy…You can't do anything right!" His foot came down on his already aching belly again.
Grinning maliciously, the man picked his son up by the corner of his shirt, lifting his nearly limp body off of the ground. Crouching so he could whisper into his ear, the drunk shook his son. "You're worthless, you know that? I own you, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!" Opening his fist, he chortled as his son bounced off the floor, landing on his back again. Bracing himself on the sides of the counters, the man stomped down on Joey again.
"Now, you get your little ass up— "
Stomp.
"—and after your retarded ass gets out of school—"
Stomp.
"—You go get me some fuckin' coffee!" With a final kick to the boy's ribs, the man's stupor finally tired him, and with a shallow breath, he walked back into the living room and sank on the couch. The springs squealed in protest at the sudden weight once again.
As Joey saw circles dance in front of his amber eyes, he wheezed in pain for a few minutes. His jaw was throbbing and shoulders were throbbing, but his stomach was vibrating pain. Slowly, Joey raised his hand to cover his stomach, biting back a gasp of pain. He didn't want his father to come back for seconds. Realizing that he was still in potential danger was enough to make Joey lift his bruised body from the floor, and, steadying himself, and like wounded prey, he limped quietly to the front door.
Holding back a grunt of pain as he reached down for his book bag, his ears picked up the familiar sound of his father snoring. The beating had put him back to sleep. Joey's eyes flashed in a rage as he passed the threshold and closed the door behind him. It was always the same. He should have known. Even if he wanted to skip it, his father would never let Joey deviate from the morning routine.
EA: Yay! Chapter 1's finished. I understand that it's kind of short, but fear not because the chapters will increase in length as the plot-ball gets rolling. Also, special thanks to my wonderful Beta, Kaentara, without whom I would be lost. No, seriously. Please review!