"Someone's turning the handle
to the faucet in your eyes.
They're pouring out where everyone can see.
Your heart's too big for your body.
It's where your feelings hide.
They're pouring out where everyone can see."

~Cry Baby by Melanie Martinez


Ryou languished at home. His homework was done, the apartment was cold, and he was alone. He ached with bruises from the beating he'd received yesterday; usually, Bakura would take care of bullies himself, but this time, he hadn't been "paying attention."

Come now, Yadonushi, I showed up eventually, didn't I?

Ryou glanced up at his bookshelf, from which many books had been displaced and stacked on the floor instead to make room for Bakura's collection of souls trapped in Monster World figurines.

"You showed up, but I still don't like the way you handle those sorts of things." He sighed heavily, curling into a little ball on his couch. "Too many people have fallen unconscious already… I'm going to have to move again soon."

I thought you liked it here, Host? Bakura's tone was probing, inquisitive, distant. He didn't really care all that much if Ryou liked it here or not, because to him, every school was just like any other.

"I do, and I'm glad that I have friends here, but it's not safe for me anymore…" He trailed off as he started to cry, upset by the idea of his remaining like this for the rest of his life: a tumbleweed blown about by forces beyond his control, never allowed to settle down anywhere, always on the move, always detached from everything and everyone. He started to cry harder as he remembered his family, aching for their presence like he ached for nothing else in this life.

Stop crying, Yadonushi. You cry too much. Bakura's tone was annoyed, disinterested, unconcerned, scornful.

"I can't help it," Ryou whimpered, crying harder now that he'd been reminded of Bakura's cold presence. "I want my dad to come home. I just… I just want him to come home. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Fine! I'm sick of hearing you whine and pine for your father. He abandoned you, but you still want him home? Will you quit being such a crybaby if I can get him home for you?

"Y-You would do that?" Ryou whispered in shocked disbelief, blinking his tears away.

If it would get you to stop crying, then yes.

"Th-Thank you, Bakura," Ryou murmured. He never thought he'd be saying that to the spirit that periodically possessed him.

You're welcome. Goodnight, Yadonushi. I have some work to do.

As Bakura chuckled darkly, Ryou's world went black and he lost all sense of consciousness.

The next thing he knew, he was walking to school, unable to control his limbs, something uncomfortable stuck in his ear, a heavy vest under his hoodie.

Bakura, what's going on? Ryou asked softly, terrified. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. What have you done?

I've come up with a way to ensure that your father returns home, Bakura snorted. You should be grateful. I had to make preparations, acquire some materials, interact with idiots.

"When you are inside the classroom, we'll give you the signal," an accented voice said into his ear.

That's Karim. He's our contact.

Contact to what? Ryou asked in horror.

To the terrorist cell, of course.

Ryou didn't have an answer to that, and replied to Bakura's words with stunned, terrified silence. Terrorist cell?

Have no fear, Yadonushi. I've thought of everything. Just play along, don't fight me, and your father will be home by the end of the day.

Ryou's hands and knees started to shake as he walked into school, Bakura taking him to his homeroom. He shared homeroom with his friends. He couldn't do this to them.

Please, just go to a different classroom, any classroom at all, but not the one where they are, Ryou pleaded in his thoughts, hardly breathing as fear gripped him and numbed his mind. He probably couldn't stop Bakura even if he tried to at this point.

Fine, whatever. Doesn't really matter which one, anyways.

Bakura picked a classroom and slipped in through the back with Ryou. For the next part, Ryou was perfectly aware, but he had absolutely no control. Over anything.

"Are you ready?" Karim's voice buzzed in Ryou's ear, to which Bakura assented with a faint murmur and received an order to commence with their plan.

Ryou had no control when Bakura unzipped his hoodie, revealing the bomb he was strapped to. He had no control as Bakura held the detonator in one hand and commanded that nobody was to leave the room, or they'd all be blown sky high. The rest of the school started to be evacuated once somebody looking through the windows in the doors realized what was going on and alerted an adult. He had no control as Bakura ordered for everybody to take their seat, as he shouted at the teacher who tried to enter the room, as he ordered for everyone to pass up their cellphones, deposit them on the teacher's desk, and close the window blinds before returning to their seats.

Ryou felt panic growing inside him as he watched the scene unfold, and his discomfort was visible to his hostages whenever Bakura wasn't actively controlling his features or his voice. As they waited in silence for the authorities to arrive so her could make his demands, Ryou caught sight of someone in the classroom that he recognized: Serenity. She stared at him in utter horror, like he was a monster.

Oh god, he was a monster.

Bakura, I can't do this!

Trust me.

Trust you?! You've hurt me and countless other people! Why should I trust you?

Because how many people have I actually killed?

None, Ryou replied hesitantly. That I know about, at least.

Exactly. So trust me.

He peeked out the blinds periodically, and when he could see that the police had arrived, Ryou made an executive decision.

Sorry Bakura, but this is still my body, and as long as they believe I'm the one calling the shots, I should do something that they'll recognize as my behavior.

"Serenity," he called, looking at her directly and making her head snap up so that she was looking back at him. She'd been crying. Ryou started to hate himself even more. "I need you to take them a message: tell them that if my father's not here by sundown, I'm going to detonate."

It was Bakura's voice ordering her around, but it was Ryou's eyes apologizing to her as she stood, nodded, and slipped out the door to run out of the room and deliver her message. She ran into federal agents after turning the first corner, one of whom escorted her out of the building while the others moved closer to the classroom being held hostage.

"He says that if his father isn't here by sunset, he'll detonate," Serenity spluttered hysterically. Once she stepped outside the school building, she heard her brother's voice, making her breathe a sigh of relief and start to sprint towards him even as he burst past the police perimeter and run towards her at breakneck speed. She threw herself at him as he took her into his arms, relieved to the point of tears to see her again. He'd been alternating between terrified and furious ever since the state of emergency was announced. How could Ryou do this? To Joey's own sister, no less!

"Joey, something's wrong!" she cried repeatedly. "Something's wrong with Ryou!"

"I'll say," Joey growled bitterly, dragging his sister with him back to safety. "He's gone nuts! What does he think he's doing!" He was livid with anger inspired by a sense of betrayal.

"No, Joey, something's wrong!" she repeated hysterically as Joey's friend circle closed in around the two siblings in a ring of confusion and comfort. "Ryou's scared! He's confused, a-and he doesn't want to be doing this!" She looked up at all of them with an imploring look, hoping they believed her. "Something's wrong. I can see it in his eyes."

A federal agent came up then to escort her a little ways away so that they could ask her about the situation inside the room. She could tell them how many people were in the room, and who they were, and what Ryou's demands and threats were. She also insisted to them that something was terribly wrong with her friend, because he would never dream of hurting other people like this.

"Serenity's right, you guys," Tristan said, turning to look back at the school. "Ryou would never do something like this. It's got to be the Spirit of the Millennium Ring!"

"How come we can't ever seem to get rid of him?" Tea fretted anxiously.

"Serenity, can you tell me about how he held the detonator?" the traumatized teen was asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Did he hold it in a firm grip, or did he ever loosen his hold?"

"H-He did loosen his hold sometimes," Serenity said after a few moments of thought.

"Good, that means he's not holding a dead man's switch."

"What's that?"

"If he was holding a dead man's switch, that means that if he died while strapped to the bomb or let go of the detonator, it would blow up automatically. But he's not, so that's good news for us."

They let a confused Serenity go back to her friends. As she hugged Joey again, she asked him about the dead man's switch and why it was a good thing he didn't have one. The blood drained from Joey's face.

"If he doesn't have one," Joey answered quietly, starting to feel sick. "Then it means that they can kill him and save the hostages with minimal loss of life."

That statement sent shocked gasps throughout the circle, and sent Serenity into a fit of tears. As her brother started to comfort her, she cried, "But he just wants to see his dad! That's all he wants! He doesn't want to hurt anybody, he just wants to see his dad!"

Joey hushed her, cradling her head against his shoulder as Tristan started to bristle. How could they even consider doing that? He was just a sad kid who wanted his family back, even if his father was the only family he could ever get back. Something was better than nothing, and he'd had nothing for so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to have a family at all—if he'd ever really known what that was like in the first place.

"I won't let them hurt him!" Tristan shouted, bursting forward and running for the school as fast as he could before anybody would stop him. He ran into the school without being stopped and managed to dart and twist his way past the other agents outside the hostage classroom. When he burst in, Ryou jumped. He was already so anxious and tense that anything shocking would be too much for his system to handle. Tristan kept moving, not stopping until he'd thrown his arms around Ryou and held him close.

"I promise that I won't let them hurt you," he muttered fiercely, eyes blazing with a protective flame.

Ryou choked on a sob as he struggled not to cry.

See what you've done, Bakura? They were going to kill me! If they talk us out of it now, we'll end up in some kind of psychiatric prison! I won't even have my freedom there, and neither will you!

I'll be damned before that happens, Bakura growled in the back of his mind.

You're already damned, Ryou snapped back irritably.

One of the students hesitantly started to stand up, not feeling very afraid of their captor anymore.

"Sit down!" Bakura shouted, holding out the hand with the detonator. The student promptly sat down again. "Nobody's going anywhere until my father gets here!"

It broke Tristan's heart to hear his friend speak like that, but he knew even so that it wasn't really him at all. As Ryou's frightened eyes darted up to Tristan's face, his suspicions were confirmed in his own mind.

"I didn't choose this," Ryou whispered in a faint voice barely audible.

"I know you didn't. I know."

Tristan believed him. That was good. But if the worst case scenario played out, Ryou already knew what he'd do: he'd send everyone out of the building and detonate. He couldn't live with the shame and the consequences that would result from all of this if he surrendered. He couldn't survive in prison, even though he stood a better chance in a psychiatric prison. He wasn't crazy or unstable or dangerous. He just had the incredible misfortune to be possessed by the evil spirit of an ancient criminal.

I resent that comment.

You deserve it.

You're lucky to have me around!

Depends on your definition of luck.

"Ryou Bakura, we want to talk to you," a voice called from outside. "I'm FBI Special Agent Kate Todd."

"Go away!" Ryou yelled, afraid, now that Tristan was here to protect him, that they were going to try to take him out in order to put this business to an end.

"I just want to talk, Ryou," she called in a steady, calm voice from behind the nearest door.

"We can talk when you get my father here!" His voice broke, and he swallowed hard as Tristan adjusted his hold on Ryou to make it more comfortable. Most of the students had their heads down on their desks now anyways, just praying for the nightmare to be over, so Ryou didn't even worry about what they thought of him at this point—not that their opinion of him could get much lower than it already had gotten.

"I just want to ask you a few questions about your father, Ryou."

"Whatever you want to know, it's probably in some database somewhere," Bakura snapped back. "Try looking there first!"

"We have people looking there already, but there are some things we want to ask you because only you know them."

"Like what?" Ryou answered hesitantly.

It's probably some kind of trap to make you feel bad and surrender, Bakura warned. Let me do this.

No, Bakura! You never met my dad! Let me answer their questions. You can always stop me from surrendering anyways.

That's true...

"When was the last time you saw or spoke with your father, Ryou?"

"Six years ago."

"What does he do for a living?"

"He's an archaeologist. He left for a dig and never came back."

"You do realize there's a possibility that he may have died, don't you Ryou?"

The FBI agent's bluntness brought tears to his eyes, but he shook his head savagely. "No, he's alive! I know he is. He's been sending me checks for rent every month the whole time. The last one came last week, and it's his signature. It's always been his signature. I know it is." He was starting to get worked up about it, and Tristan's arms exerted a gentle pressure that forced him to slow down and focus on his breathing so that he relaxed a bit. The brunette didn't even seem to care that he was hugging a live bomb.

"Okay, calm down. This isn't an interrogation." Ryou felt like it was. "Have you tried calling him?"

"Only every week since he left," Ryou retorted bitterly, sounding more like Bakura than like himself. "I call every week and I always leave a voicemail, but he never picks up and he never calls back."

Tristan swallowed hard. Ryou never talked about his dad, so he'd just learned a lot from the brief exchange. He didn't know that Ryou had been trying so hard for so long to get in touch with him. He'd never realized just how much pain his friend was in. He felt bad for never thinking to push him harder about it in the past. He continued to hold Ryou in his arms, his firm embrace reminding the shorter teen that he wasn't alone.

The agent's next words surprised Ryou a little.

"We're going to find your dad, Ryou. Just sit tight and don't make any snap decisions. We're dedicated to getting all of you out of there alive."

Tristan felt like Special Agent Todd was saying that for his benefit, since he was the one who'd freaked out. He felt like his concerns were justified, though: his friend was strapped to a bomb and holding a classroom hostage because he wanted to see his dad. Whether Tristan was able to provide it or not, Ryou needed help.


Author Notes: The plot for this fic was heavily adapted from NCIS, S3 E18. Stay tuned for the thrilling continuation in chapter two, which may or may not include everyone's favorite teenage billionaire. ;)