Greetings Dearest Readers,
This is my celebratory 10yr rewrite of the fanfiction 'Those Distant Stars' – which I am re-uploading here as well – a cross over between Yugioh and Stargate (as well as a few other things.)
Upon re-reading the fic I felt that in the ten years that have passed, the world I had envisioned for those characters had grown, changed and very much matured – along with my writing and how I approach writing, so I figured, well, I should just rewrite the fic with how I now envision it.
Those Distant Stars started something marvellous for me. I met amazing people across the world over!
As an author, creating worlds and stories for people to read is a great honour. Being a fanfiction writer is just as much an honour – because it is world's that people already love and adore.
So, thank you for the journey everyone.
Here's to another ten years! Let's hope I actually get a few more of my novels out in those ten years or I'll be George R.R Martin's age by the time I finish my series!
14/08/2017
00000000
0000
Our Gate of Stars
Season One
By Rainbow-Hat
0000000
0000
0
Episode One: Solomon's Mine
The silence of the concreate walls that formed the maze of Stargate Command was hardly comforting. They crushed Daniel's shoulders with the weight of a mountain, burdening him under pressure and guilt of just how he had failed his beloved wife. If he had just never opened the Stargate on Abydos, then maybe Apophis would never have come through, and maybe his wife and her people would never have suffered under the oppression of the Gou'ald once more.
It was his fault. His lust, his desire to explore, to uncover and reach forth his hand to seize what he thought was his inheritance—the stars. He had been so foolish to believe that he owned the very universe and all within it. Now he was paying the price—no—Sharee, his beloved wife, was paying the price. Stolen from him, cursed to become the walking host of a foul monster that had claimed her like some piece of meat.
He clenched his fist about the pen he grasped, groaning into the surface of his office desk. Nothing mattered anymore. Sleep did not come, food tasted like ash in his mouth, he had no home to return to, no friends to call, no family to ask for comfort.
He was alone.
Inside a mountain.
A mountain of guilt. He needed to get out of the mountain, away from the faces that haunted him, from the voices that leaked out of the Stargate, chasing his every move. Surely Sharee would forgive him for running away, if only for a little while—but where—where would he go? Where would lonely Daniel Jackson go on a planet that was not even his home anymore?
Daniel lifted his head wearily, brushing aside the salt that had caked on his cheeks from the tears. The office was dim, only his lamp illumed his tiny retreat. Pages of his scattered notes on translations lay about and he sighed at the pile of work. Across from his desk he had managed to make the beginnings of a little bookshelf, there were only a few books on it thus far and the glaringly obvious one upon it was his own self-published work that had started his adventure into the universe.
Somehow, he had managed to find a copy floating about. He had honestly thought he had burned them all in hellfire, though, this one had escaped his wrath and he had stumbled upon it amongst all his storage gear that Jack had never thrown out. Reaching for it he plucked it from the shelf, smiling wearily as he trailed a finger down the worn spine. He flicked open the first page, noting he had sent it to an old archaeologist professor from the field. Daniel snorted in mild amusement.
"Professor, you old coot, sending me back my own book."
An envelope slipped free from the back pages and Daniel frowned at the yellowed state of it. Had he never opened it, or just forgotten about it? Picking it up he noted the neat hand writing. Indeed, this was from his old professor, the stately script was unmistakable. It appeared he had opened it, so perhaps he had simply long forgotten about the letter. Sliding it out he eased back in his chair, ignoring its creak as he read silently.
'My dearest Daniel,
Quite the interesting read you have put together. Very enjoyable. I hope, someday, that you find your evidence. Never give up dreaming. Never give up searching for the answers you seek. However, if you ever do find yourself giving up on your pursuit of the great unknown, go looking for an old friend of mine at the Kame Game Shop, in Japan, Domino. Just remember, son, that once you step over the threshold, there will be no turning back.
Never stop searching, Daniel. It is what you are good at.
Best regards,
Arthur Hawkins.
Daniel rested the letter gently on his lap, staring ahead at the blank wall. The Kame Game Shop. He could not help but smile at the name. He sighed, sinking further back into his chair, turning his book around in his hands.
He had found his evidence in the form of the Stargate—but it was not as though he could tell Professor Hawkins that. He couldn't tell anyone within the archaeological community what he had discovered. Professor Hawkins, though, had always been quite the laughing-stock himself, and it had never bothered him. He had gone off chasing the myths of the Shepherd's Journal, and Atlantis, proclaiming it was something of a birth-right.
Massaging his temples Daniel looked to the ceiling. The sky was lost to him, and the stars he wanted so badly to reach, he couldn't see through the mountain of concreate that imprisoned him. Had he given up on the pursuit of the great unknown—was that what he was feeling right now—had the loss of his wife created such a gulf within him that he no longer wanted to see the wonders of the universe that he had once hungered for?
He wiped away a tear, bending forward. The tears kept flowing. They weighed down his cheeks, making his exhaustion feel more evident. Perhaps this was it, perhaps he needed more than the evidence that was right in front of him—
Perhaps he needed hope.
"Solomon Motou," Daniel whispered. "Solomon Motou." He repeated the name. "Who are you…" The name rung like a bell in his mind. "Why is that name familiar…" Daniel frowned.
He shifted in his seat and turned towards his computer, pulling up the SGC's database. He typed in the name. Search results popped up on the screen. An old scanned photo, that he had seen years ago on a mantel piece appeared before him. The names were scrawled out in a hurried handwriting, but they were there.
Catherine Langford and Solomon Motou.
They stood side by side, at a dig site, near a tent, in an area he could not make out, but it was likely some place in Egypt—if he was to guess from knowing Catherine's father. It was startling, to see Catherine so young, with such a radiant smile. The young man beside her had his hand up in half a wave, the other was wrapped tightly around Catherine. It was as though he was looking at a young couple, happily in love, smiling for a camera, blissfully unaware of the future ahead of them. Catherine—Catherine had never mentioned anything about a Solomon Motou. He had just presumed the man in the photo on her mantel had died a long time ago.
He was still alive! Why? What had happened?
"Solomon…Solomon…" he murmured, "That's not a Japanese name, he must have been using an English name outside of Japan. He knew Catherine!" Daniel dragged a hand through his hair. His heart felt suddenly like it had skipped a beat as his fingers tightened on the desk. Catherine had never spoken about her life under her father, trying to learn archaeology in a world of men, but now that he thought about it, she had not been surprised when he had mentioned he had studied under Professor Hawkins.
"What if they knew each other as well." He breathed out. "What if they all knew each other." Daniel slowly stood on aching legs. "What if they knew about the Stargate from working with Catherine's father!"
A sudden, dangerous need to know burned in him. People who might believe in him, people in his own field of study, who would understand his language, his jargon, his busting desire to uncover the stars. People like him. A grin spread over his lips and he snatched up his coat. The General would surely give him some time off—right?
00000000000000000
0000000000000
000
It hadn't taken much convincing on Daniel's part to have a few weeks off work over Christmas. The General had looked at him with a pitiful, grandfatherly look, and pointed him to the nearest door. Jack had cornered him on his way out, asking why—what—when—how—all those annoying Jack questions that just bubbled out of the man.
People presumed Jack didn't speak much, the man had that stoic look about him, but not if you were a best-friend to the man. Then Jack just didn't shut up and it was amusing to be on the receiving end of the Jack-Train. He loved Jack, he really did, Jack was the best thing that had happened to him, other than his wife. That was why, right now, Jack sat in the living room of his apartment, eating take away Chinese while watching a rerun of The Simpsons.
"Japan?" Jack looked up from the television. "Seriously? Japan?"
"Yeah." Daniel looked up from his seat on his floor, where he was neatly folding his clothes into a suitcase. "My flight leaves in the morning."
Jack's frown deepened. "Daniel…it's not your fault…you know."
That had taken a considerable effort on Jack's part. Daniel bowed his head, nodding. He knew what his friend was trying to say, and he was grateful for it. He was sure Jack would never shake the guilt of losing his son to a gun he, himself, owned and had not stored properly—just as he would never shake the guilt of not closing the Abydos Stargate forever.
But neither of them could live in the guilt, and let it consume them. He looked up as Jack settled down beside him. "Just, come back."
"I'm not running away, Jack. I swear, I'm just going to visit someone. Someone who might have some answers…or…more questions."
"The Major's going to be sad you're going away over Christmas."
Daniel rolled his eyes.
"What?" Jack waved his chop-sticks in the air. "She was planning on a team bonding thing at the base."
"Does Sam ever leave the base?"
Jack looked thoughtful. "Makes you think."
"Jack, be serious."
He was sent a grin, to which, he replied by shoving his hand firmly into Jack's face, making him land on his back, rolling around and snorting out laughter. There was no one else on the planet who would see Jonathan O'Neill in this state. He was the honoured one, and he couldn't figure out why.
The Colonel ended up crashing on his couch that night, not for the first time, and unlikely the last either. It was rather helpful, when the morning came, he had a driver to the airport. A grumpy, annoyed driver, but a driver none-the-less, and it nice to be seen off by a friend. He wasn't so alone in the world when Jack was around.
He wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he arrived in Domino—but he might as well have stepped through the Stargate onto a distant planet. He should have been used to the feeling, arriving in a new place, finding himself disorientated, needing to figure out where to go, how to get there.
But not like this—this city was beyond Earth.
Was he even still on Earth?
The skyscrapers stretched into a night skyline like thin silver spires, lit up in such a manner that they reflected the crystal shine of the reflective roads below. Skytrains wove between the buildings, linking sections of the city together. He had flown over, staring out the plane window in awe at the obvious ringed design. It was still in construction, but the city itself was expanding, out, over the ocean. Someone was designing a perfect habitat, and he knew that he stood immersed within it, smelling the pure air, untouched by fumes, he wanted to grab his phone and scream into the speaker at Sam to get on a plane—he had found paradise on Earth.
"How…how does no one know about this place?" He pulled his suitcase along after him, checking his Google Maps for the location of the Kame Game Shop. Every so often, his phone would pop up a notification for another app he had never heard of, or to sign into a network that seemed to be citywide. He sighed, coming to a stop on the edge of a street. At this rate, he was never going to find where he wanted to go. It looked like he was just going to have to ask for directions. It was a good thing Jack wasn't here.
Puckering up the courage Daniel turned into the nearest café, heading for the counter. The nearest waiter was putting away washed glasses and Daniel cleared his throat, hoping his Japanese wasn't as rusty as he feared it to be.
"Hi, um, I'm looking for the Kame Game Shop, you wouldn't happen to—"
"Ah," the man smiled warmly, nodding a few times. "Yes, yes," he headed out the door and Daniel followed quickly. "You head down this road and turn left. You'll see it, it's very hard to miss. It's one of the original buildings in the area."
Daniel gushed out a thank you. "Can I ask, why isn't my Google Maps working here?"
"Google Maps?" The man scratched his chin. "Oh, that would be the interference."
Daniel blinked a few times. The waiter shrugged. "We don't understand it ourselves, but if you grow up in Domino, you soon realise this city isn't normal." With a wave the waiter headed back into the warm air of the café.
Daniel sighed. His feet burned, swollen from walking the streets of the city, and he was sure he had blisters on his hand from dragging his suitcase along. He had long forgotten what jetlag was like, being far to accustomed to the wonder of travel through the Stargate.
Jetlag—a heaviness that rested on his shoulders, seeping deeper and deeper into him, as if poisoning his mind. Daniel shook his head, clearing the blur threatening to overtake his vision as best as he could. He started down the street, grateful that there didn't seem to be to many people moving about for him to navigate around. It did seem that he had come to a rather sleepy, quiet area of the city, and while there were many beautiful little cafes and otaku shops, none were packed to the brim.
Just as the waiter had indicated, upon reaching the end of the street, looking left, he was gifted with the sight he had been waiting for since he had stepped off the plane.
The Kame Game Shop. The light of a nearby streetlamp lit its front porch, that poked out into the pavement were the road forked. Other newer stores had been built up around it, and it looked a little out of place, but oddly enough, it set the very scene of the entire streets that surrounded it. Daniel breathed out, having the strangest feeling, from his tingling toes up to his heavy shoulders, that he was returning home.
A home he had never been to—but home none-the-less.
There was no other entrance he could see but that which led into the shop front itself, despite the home built on the second floor. Daniel frowned, looking around for a few moments before shrugging and ringing the doorbell. The porchlight came on, almost blinding him, and a few minutes later, so did the lights within the shop itself. Through the window panels of the shop, Daniel watched a short, elderly gentleman, dressed in grey slacks and a loose woollen sweater, waddle his way across a tiled floor.
The door opened inwards, greeting him with a rush of warm air. The stocky man stroked back a mop of grey hair to look up at him with a squint in his eyes, as though he was missing his glasses. He must have made that same connection, for a moment later, he reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a pair, propping them on his nose.
He leant heavily on the doorframe, studying Daniel with a raised eyebrow.
"Let me guess," he spoke in fluent English, "you're one of Hawkins' strays."
Daniel looked down at himself. He was so sure he had dressed himself a little better today. Perhaps not, judging by the glare of the old man in the doorway.
"Oh, don't take it to heart, lad," the man scoffed. "My grandson looks far worse than you. He comes in wearing scraps of other people's clothes, as if the boy isn't filthy rich. So, what do you want? I'm guessing you've come all the way here for something, hmp?
Daniel cleared his throat. "Actually…yes…" He looked around the deserted street. "I've, ah, come to…I've come to ask…if you know…if you know anything about the…Stargate."
"Hmph, the direct approach. That's refreshing."
Daniel was studied for a short time, just enough time for him to begin to feel a mite uncomfortable under such a strong, scrutinizing gaze. Finally, the old man puffed out a heavy sigh, as if relenting to an internal debate.
"Fine, but I am warning you lad, you step past this threshold, there will be no turning back…"
Those words—Professor Hawkins' letter had said the same thing!
"…you'll be entering into a whole new world, a world within a world." The man raised a brushy eyebrow. "Are you truly ready for that, are you ready for your reality to be questioned?"
Daniel shook his head. "I'm ready for my answers to have questions."
"Good. Come along."
The man grabbed for his suitcase before he could protest, and heaved it up as if it weighed nothing. "Don't take your shoes off yet, lad, up the stairs first."
"Gomen." Daniel nodded, following him quickly. The lights in the shop dimmed as they exited, and sure enough, upon approaching the second floor, Daniel found himself within a comfortable and bright home. He quickly removed his shoes, leaving by the others lined up at the wall.
"I am sorry, I haven't, ah, introduced myself. I am Jackson Daniel."
"Motou Sugoroku, but you're welcome to call me Solomon." Solomon set the suitcase down by the kitchen bench. "You look exhausted. Head through the door, you'll find the sitting room. Do yourself a favour and get off your feet. I'll bring in some tea and snacks."
"Arigatou gozaimasu."
Solomon ducked into the kitchen and Daniel was left to wander toward the door he had indicated. The source of the heat in the small house came from the pokey living room, were a large television was currently flashing images of the news, while muted. The panoramic windows that must have opened to a skyline view of Domino were shut to ward out the chilled air. He as mostly surprised to see a Christmas Tree already set up, and a few gifts scattered underneath it.
Daniel blinked a few times. He had not even realised how close it was to Christmas. No wonder Jack had been in such a mood when he had left—no wonder he was in such a mood. They always got this way around Christmas.
Now he felt rather awful for leaving his best friend. Daniel sighed, then froze, with a foot in the air. There was someone else in the living room. A young man sat in the seat nearest the heater. At least, he was sure it was a young man, perhaps someone around his own age, it was difficult to tell due to the stunning length of white hair cascading down broad shoulders wrapped in a cotton shawl. Several volumes of thick medical text books surrounded him. Every so often he chewed on his lower bottom lip, so deeply engrossed in the page he was studying that Daniel was reluctant to seat himself, encase it caused a disturbance.
Suddenly the young man looked up, blinking under thick rimmed glasses. "Goodness gracious me, I am so sorry…" a thick, rich British accent was the last thing Daniel had expected. "I was off with the fairies."
"Ah…hi…" Daniel held up a hand in greeting. "Solomon…ah…said I could, um, take a seat."
"Yes, yes, please, do not mind me. You do rather appear as though you could use a seat." A gracious smile was sent his way.
Taking the weight of his aching legs was so blissfully wonderful Daniel released a long, delighted sigh.
"Long day?"
"You could say that, yes." Daniel nodded. He held out his hand. "Doctor Daniel Jackson."
The hand that grasped his had eerily pale skin, even against his own. He briefly encountered roughed calluses and scars before the touch was withdrawn. "Pleasure to meet you. Professor Ryou Bakura."
"Professor?" Daniel required. "Of medical science?"
"Oh, no, no…" Ryou laughed, "Medieval History, actually. No, this is a little bit of light reading. Just keeping the mind ticking over. These belong to my other-half. He's a surgeon."
"Light reading." Daniel laughed.
"Hm, yes." Ryou flipped back his hair before pulling out a tie from a pocket in his shirt. "It's nice to at least try and understand what he is saying, otherwise our conversations get a little dull."
The amusing way Sam and Jack bounced off each other, with Sam's brilliance and Jack's sarcasm came to mind. Daniel had to smile. "I can understand."
"Ryou, you're still up?" Through the side door Solomon entered, bringing in a tray of tea.
Ryou finishing platting his long white hair, flipping it back over his shoulder. "Still adjusting to the time zone."
"Where is your other-half?" Solomon settled the tray down on the small table between them.
Ryou closed the book across his lap. "He was called out to our local hospital, emergency surgery on a crash victim, they needed an extra pair of hands."
Solomon shook his head. He looked as though he was going to say something, before stopping, his attention turning to Daniel. "I see you've meet Daniel Jackson then?"
"We were just getting ourselves equated. Yes." Ryou chuckled. "I am going to take a guess," he tapped his chin, "you're one of Professor Hawkins' strays, aren't you?"
"Seriously…Does this happen often?"
"Professor Hawkin's is one of those fellows who attracts the extraordinary." Ryou rose to his feet. "I do believe I'll retire for the night, Grandpa."
Solomon nodded. "Do try to sleep."
"I'll give it a good attempt."
Turning back around Daniel sagged lower into the couch, the long weigh of travel crashing down upon him, but no matter how much he wanted to sleep, his mind was still alert. It was highly unlikely he was going to be finding himself asleep for some time.
"Is he your grandson?" Daniel accepted the tea offered to him.
"Ryou doesn't look dishevelled enough to be my Yugi. Trust me, you'll know Yugi is my grandson when you see him." Solomon chuckled. He sat back on a couch. "However, Ryou may as well be my grandson. I have a few adopted grandsons now." There was a fondness in the old man's tone that warmed Daniel far more than the tea in his hands. "And granddaughters, and great-grandchildren. Yes. I am truly blessed."
Solomon set his tea down. "However, we are not here to discuss me…we are here to discuss you."
Daniel gulped. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him with such searching eyes, eyes that seemed to know him. This—he was sure—was why he had come all the way here.
But his mouth suddenly felt dry, full of the desert sand of Abydos. He fumbled around his words.
"I…ah…I…it's…I'm really not supposed to say…anything…National Security and…all that."
"Perhaps it would help if I told you," Solomon kicked one leg over the other, lounging back, "that I assisted with the uncovering of the Stargate. I was one of Doctor Langford's…well…let's use the word 'assistant' to be nice, shall we."
"I never expected to find anyone else who knew about the Stargate."
Solomon chuckled. "Coverups don't cover everything up, lad."
"You do know…everything…right?"
"Oh, about it being a gateway to the stars, that you can use it to travel vast distances to other planets, and about an alien race who subjugated humanity centuries ago? Yes, I know."
Daniel bent forward, groaning into his knees. Even from this distance he could feel the General bearing down on him, giving that disproving tilt of his head and that little eyebrow raise that said how disappointed he was without words. It was gut-wrenching, disappointing the General and here he was, feeling like he had already done so without a clue how.
"How…"
"I read hieroglyphs, like you do."
"If it was just the hieroglyphs, I wouldn't have been laughed out of a panel of my peers." Daniel rolled his eyes.
Solomon chuckled far too easily at that comment. "True, true, well, let's just say…hmmm…I had an experience much like you, yes?"
That was one way to put stepping through the Stargate, he supposed.
"I just want my wife back." Daniel sighed into his sweaty hands.
Solomon was silent for a while. "I think, the best place to start, Daniel, would be at the beginning."
Peering through the strings of his unwashed hair, Daniel studied the old man sitting under the warm light of the living room. It was difficult to comprehend why he trusted the gentleman he had only just met, but he felt so much like the General. Someone to trust.
The floodgates opened and the words tumbled out of his mouth. From the humiliation of losing his position in the archaeological community, to the elation of discovering he had been right all along, and his first adventure through the Stargate to defeat Ra on Abydos. To now—losing his wife to Apophis and being unsure of any direction in which to take, of feeling lost, despite having a direction to tak.
"The thing was…" Daniel collapsed back on the couch. "While I was on Abydos for that year, I hadn't been sitting around idle—like Jack thought—I had been exploring all their old ruins. Some were very well preserved, others had been devastated by the Goa'uld, obviously trying to eradicate Human history. What I found was, it was incredible." He sat forward again, grinning at Solomon. "You see, I think my original theory had been wrong. I don't think the Goa'uld built the pyramids, I don't even think they built their ships, or…or anything they have. They're a race of parasites. They come, they invade, and take whatever bits of a world they think is best and assimilate that into their culture. It's why their language is so universal." He waved a hand around. "Anyway, besides the point…don't you see, Human's built ships! We built spaceships."
He clapped hands over his cheeks. "We were building advanced spaceships five thousand years ago, and no one even knows about it! Sometimes, I feel like I am going to explode with frustration that no one understands what I do."
Solomon shrugged. "We do not give our ancestors enough credit."
"Exactly!" Daniel clapped his hands, before blinking a few times, realising what the old man had said. "Wait, you, you believe me?"
"Yes. I told you, I had an experience myself when I was young lad. Had a few more since then." Solomon poured himself more tea. "Humans building spaceships with interstellar abilities is just the tip of the iceberg. I would have thought a student of Arthur would have figured that out."
Daniel sighed. "Arthur was always trying to find Atlantis."
Solomon laughed heartily. "Yes, well, you can't blame him. He's the grandson of Don Novello."
"Don Novello?" Daniel frowned, rubbing his chin. In the back of his mind, like an inch he couldn't scratch, from a reading done a long time ago, he was aware of that name having importance. "Where have I heard that name before?"
"Atlantis Expedition, 1914. All the members of the expedition changed their names afterwards, due to the amount of press they were getting, and they blended back into society. You're not the only one with secrets, Daniel."
"You're right, you have secrets too." Digging around in the pocket of his pants, Daniel held out the photograph he had printed. Solomon's eyebrows had lifted high on his brow, he wasn't sure if it was due to surprise, or curiosity. Slowly, Solomon leant forward, plucking it from his fingers.
The elderly gentleman frowned slightly at the sight of it and Daniel supressed the gnawing ache in his gut that told him he was being nosey.
"Goodness, I haven't seen this photograph in nearly thirty years." Solomon shook his head. "Not since the last time Arthur and I had a heart to heart at his place." He passed it back. "Now I can see what peaked your interest in me, knowing Catherine as you do."
Daniel nodded slowly. Catherine had been the whole reason he had joined the Stargate program—more than that now—she had become like a grandmother to him, family he had never really had.
"Catherine…she…she never mentioned you."
"No, she wouldn't have." Solomon stole the final slice of cake. "When we last parted, we promised to never contact each other again, for each other's sake."
"But…"
"No, let me tell my story." Solomon held up a hand. "I let you tell yours."
Daniel nodded. "Sorry."
"Now, there is something you need to understand, lad, being as young as you are. Catherine's father was a harsh man, and a man very much of his time. I respected him, in a fashion. I respected his mind, and his work ethic, but he was born in another era, and he reflected the values of that era."
Leaning forward Solomon clasped his hands together. "Catherine and I were in love, I think. I'm not sure, whatever love is when you're young. Her father, however, refused me when I asked for her hand in marriage. There was no way he would allow his daughter to marry a Japanese boy."
"But—"
Solomon silence him with a glare. "I told you, Mr. Langford was a man of his time. You can't hold these things against men like that, I don't. Harbouring ill will against people leads to the worst nature in you."
Daniel swallowed his debate. "So, what did you do?"
"The only thing a lad that age could do. I left. I knew I was not welcome, and my continued presence would only cause trouble."
"You didn't fight for Catherine?"
Solomon barked a laugh. "Fight? You read to many romance novels."
"But Catherine—"
"Let me finish my story."
Daniel silenced himself. It was always hard to do, but he could hear an imaginary Jack berating him.
"It wasn't until years later that I received a letter from Catherine, asking me to visit. I discovered, much to my dismay, that I had fathered a child. A boy. That boy had grown up into a young man, he had married, and had a child himself. I was both a father, and a grandfather, without ever having known."
Daniel gaped. The living room was suddenly far too warm, and his clothes to restrictive. Catherine had never indicated she had been a mother, nor even a grandmother! Why had he never heard any of this before. He loosened the collar around his neck and tried to focus through his glasses on Solomon's haggard features.
"I'll admit, I was furious I had never been told, but I understood, in a way. A child born out of wedlock, back then, in a family of her standing…with a father like hers." He shook his head. "I am surprised she kept the boy, truly, though…I suppose that is another story in-of-itself. Anyway, I never got the chance to meet him, nor his wife, they had died in a car accident a few months prior and I was there to pick up their son. Catherine did not want to raise him."
Solomon slowly stood, moving to a nearby desk. He wearily picked up a photo, shuffling back, passing it across to Daniel.
He stared at the photograph. It was a young man, with a brilliant smile, being hugged by another, as they stood, backdropped by the immense size of a ziggurat in the distance.
"My grandson is the smaller one." Solomon sat down again. "His name is Motou Yugi."
Daniel smiled. Game. A boy raised in a game shop. The name rather suited him. Such brilliant eyes, shining joy as he was being heaved off his feet, obviously the photograph was taken just in the mid-moment of being spun.
"The other young lad is Atemu Yami."
"They look like good friends."
"That's one way to describe them." Solomon chuckled, taking back the photograph. "They're treasure hunters, the two of them."
"Treasure hunters?"
"Well, archaeologists have strict rules they must follow and need funding from museums or governments, those sorts of things. Yugi and Yami, they ignore all that, and just…Indiana Jones their way through a place, hunting for lost artefacts."
Daniel spluttered. "But…but…you can't just do that!"
Solomon shrugged. "You can ask him about it. I am sure he will be delighted to tell you all about his adventures. I do believe that the answers you are searching for, Daniel, are here." A hand settled on his shoulder. "But I can't answer them for you. You'll have to wait a few days. My grandson is coming home for Christmas. In the meantime, rest a bit. You're worn out."
Daniel lowered his head. The hand on his shoulder squeezed tightly and he finally gave in, nodding in acceptance. He eased to his feet, they still ached, and he knew he needed to hit a bed soon, even if he couldn't sleep right away, at least he would be resting.
Solomon led him up a set of stairs and towards an open door. He motioned into a small room, with a bed already set up and a desk nearby. He was surprised to notice his suitcase was already resting next to a wall. Perhaps Ryou had taken it up for him, but he had never noticed. Solomon switched on the light and led him in.
"The restroom is just down the hall. My bedroom is the furthest one, with the pale blue door, if you need me during the night, just knock a few times. Do not knock on the grey door."
"Ah, okay…"
"The young man sleeping in it, he's quite temperamental when he gets woken up."
"Fair enough point." Daniel sat down on the bed, giving a long sigh.
Solomon turned to leave. "Goodnight." He waved back.
"Do you do this often?" Daniel looked up.
Solomon paused at the doorway, looking back, a question in his raised eyebrow.
"I mean, do you take in strays often?"
The grandfather chuckled. "All the time, I have three spare bedrooms for that reason, oh, well, Yugi's is not really a spare bedroom, but it became spare when he moved out. Currently all three of them are occupied right now."
"They are?"
"Yes. You, Ryou and Seto. Three strays." Solomon winked. "Get some sleep."
00000000000000
00000000
0
Dust from chalk floated eerily in the air, visible in the streams of morning light glinting through wide windows. The rounded theatre, scattered with relaxed chairs for students to lounge upon, was silent. It was homely, having a rustic feel, with rugs scattered over a brick floor and a small heater stored to the back of the room, admitting a dim glow to chase away the mischievous shadows between the shafts of light. A large wooden desk sat to the side of a scribble covered black-board. The surface scattered with odd artefacts from various places across the globe, though, most predominately Egypt. Pressed with a cheek upon the desk surface, breathing in a layer of chalk upon the wood through deep breaths of sleep, a young man had collapsed in slumber. He looked quite at home in the comfortable large chair that supported his small frame like an enveloping glove. It was too new to belong to the classroom and appeared to be a recent gift with its price tag still attached to one wheel.
A giggle sounded to the side of the room. One of the student's chairs shifted over a rug. The man on the desk stirred, wrinkling his nose as he moved. The giggling stopped abruptly as he gradually sat up, running a hand through his frazzled layers of tri-coloured hair.
"Yami…is that you?"
As if unable to contain itself, another giggle bubbled up. The young man smiled, leaning back in his chair, wiping sleep from his eyes.
"Good morning Tutankhamun."
A head poked around the furthest of the student's chairs, revealing a bundle of black hair upon a head of golden tanned skin. Eerie white eyes, that looked like the pearls strung around a slender neck joining thick bangles of golden jewellery, beamed with the same joy as the rising sun greeting the day.
"How did you know it was me, Uncle Yugi?"
"You don't hide your shadow magic very well yet, Tut."
The boy crawled out from under the chair, looking somewhat defeated. "I know…"
"Don't worry, it will come with time. Does your Father know where you are?"
"Yesss….nooo…"
"Can't be both." Yugi eased out of the chair, groaning at the stiffness of his muscles. The young boy looped between the chairs in a dance, the chiton he wore sweeping between his legs, revealing the intricate tattoo branded up his slender thighs. Yugi sighed. At some point, the boy would learn not to flash the royal insignia of the Tomb Keepers around so much, but he supposed, here in this place, it was safe enough. He started gathering his bags, packing files and folders into their appropriate places, checking Tutankhamun every so often. The boy had finally found his way to the nearest window and was peering out into the growing morning below the museum. The bustling noise of the city was rising to greet to sun that had already crowned the desert.
"Do you really have to go, Uncle Yugi?"
"You'll be seeing me again in a week, Tut, remember, Christmas is almost here."
Tutankhamun frowned. "Christmas…oh…yes, that strange Upper-World Tradition."
Yugi laughed. "Well, only some of the Upper-World celebrate it, not everyone."
"Why do you?"
"Hmm, because it's important for your Uncle Ryou…and because it's important to catch up with friends and family at least once a year, so, it's as good as a time as any."
"But you belong here. Egypt is your home! We are your family!"
Yugi stood, swinging his bags across his shoulders. He moved between the chairs, joining the boy at the window. He crouched, settling a hand on the head. "It's nice of you to say that, Tut, but I don't think I belong anywhere quite yet."
He was smothered in a hug, all skinny arms and legs and sweet-smelling burial herbs that came with the little boy-pharaoh. It broke his heart, hearing the sobs that fell against his shoulder. He supposed he should not have been surprised Tutankhamun was reacting to his departure, considering he had been there when Malik had awakened the boy from his sarcophagus. The boy in his arms was one of the ancient wonders of the world, a precious treasure they had searched high and low for, and when Malik had finally found him, it was like his friend had found a piece of himself.
"I promise, Tut." Yugi kissed his forehead. "Egypt will always be home, alright?"
Tutankhamun nodded weakly, wiping away tears and snot.
"Now, let's go find your father and Yami, or I'm going to miss my flight."
"Why don't you just take tunnel travel like Dad and me, or Shadow portal?"
Yugi pulled a disgusted face. "I think I'll leave tunnel travel to you Tomb Keepers. I much prefer planes. Safer too."
Tutankhamun scoffed. "Dad can fight anything!"
"I'm sure he can."
"Dad is a great warrior."
"Oh yes, he is." Yugi laughed, following Tutankhamun out through the main doors of the theatre. He paused, looking back into the classroom, a small tug pulling in his chest. He would miss this place. As much as he never felt at home, as though there was always a restlessness within him that stirred like the winds across the desert sands, the past year he had spent in Egypt, getting to know himself—getting to know his other-half—had crafted a deeper bond to not just the realm he now ruled, but the secrets he chased. He would never stop chasing them. No matter how far it took him, he would chase them into the stars if he had too.
Tutankhamun danced along the winding corridors, his jewellery jingling in time with his steps. He followed the boy-pharaoh out into the main foyer of the museum, bidding goodbye to the curators who were there so early in the morning. Bright sunlight caused him to blink rapidly as he exited the great, wide doors, out into the fresh air.
A tingling sensation beset his skin and he knew that another Dimension welder was nearby. Malik was a bit of an enigma when it came to being one of their priests. He was neither a Light nor a Dark, but a Balance in of himself, having reconciled the two halves within himself. He had cheated a bit—but considering the agony he had gone through, and what he lived with as a result, Yugi couldn't fault him for it.
How long had it been? Ten years ago, was it really ten years ago, had he once really been sixteen years old—that felt like a lifetime ago, and he was only twenty-six. Malik at least looked his age of thirty, even if most of it was a projected illusion through the Dark Dimension. The regal ruler of the Hidden Kingdom had done away with his blond locks, returning to his natural black, keeping it braided in a long trail down his back. Despite living deep below the earth's crust, the crystals that lit his kingdom kept him just as tanned as anyone who roamed the deserts. Yugi had always wondered how Malik was not as pale as Ryou, surprised when he had first visited the Tomb Keeper's Hidden Kingdom, to find their source of light held similar effects as the sun.
He knew from just the body language that it was not Malik who was currently in control of the body, but Marik. Had he been closer, he would have seen the glowing shine around Malik's pale pearl eyes, making them even more eerie and moon-like than they already were. It still amazed him, after all these years, to think that the dark entity they had been battling within Malik had never been a split personality of his friends own making, nor even a dark spirit of the Dark Dimension, but something entirely more unbelievable in his eyes.
Oh, he could believe in spirits, gods and other-worldly dimensions easily. After all, he was a spectral being of the Light Dimension—the result of a soul being torn apart. However, aliens—aliens—that was a little out of his realm of experience until it was just shoved upon him.
That was the cheating bit. An alien. Ryou just said he was an old grumble-butt about never realising Malik had an alien inside his head, but who would have ever guessed that little bit of information. It might have been nice if Yami and Bakura had mentioned the ANICENT ALIENS.
Marik was a symbiont that lived inside of Malik, and Marik was old—older than even Yami and Bakura. An alien that had been passed down through the royal family of the Tomb Keepers for generations, host—after—host—after—host. He called himself a Tok'ra, the Last of the Tok'ra, though truthfully, he could not confirm that. To be honest, they were not sure about much of what they were trying to rediscover but Marik had sent them on a chase across the globe for marvellous treasures.
Upon his approach, the Tok'ra shifted out of control, and Malik returned, smiling in greeting. Whatever it was they had been talking about, Yugi left it. Yami would tell him later if it was, indeed, important enough to share. Part of the parcel of sharing mind, body and soul was allowing his other-half the time to process conversations. It had been difficult at first, after the Ceremonial Duel, to establish the boundaries between their two identities. However, gradually, over time, they had learnt tricks to separate off their own thoughts, giving each other privacy to think apart from the other. After that, Yami's physically projected form, intricately crafted from energy provided by the Dark Dimension, began to take on far more of its own appearance. He was still ethereal, never quite looking Human—a demi-god appearance was all Yugi could perhaps pin-down the eerie look, as if he was one step out of alignment from the rest of the world around him. Bakura had told him that Yami was just looking more like the Pharaoh he had once been, and relaxing into the modern world along with it. He did look relaxed now, in his loose jeans and dark grey shirt. Yugi was in half a mind to grab him a coat for the plane flight, until he remembered the spirit would just conjure one up if he felt like it. Yami could not feel the cold, nor heat, nor very little at all unless he forced more magic into his form and that was just exhausting. Thus, the Pharaoh simply chose not to, most of the time.
It was with great delight that Yugi noticed the two cups of take away coffee that Yami did hold, along with a bag of what smelt like warm chocolate croissants. He curled his toes in delight.
"I see you found my son." Malik caught Tutankhamun by the scruff of his chiton before he could tear off down the museum steps.
Yugi accepted the offered coffee from Yami, sipping the delightful liquid with a content hum.
Tutankhamun wiggled around, almost coming out of his loose clothing. Malik's arm tightened around his middle, pulling him against his chest. "Tut, we're in the Above World, don't flash your tattoo."
The boy went limp. "Sorry…"
Malik slowly settled the boy back down, giving him a gentle pat on his backside. "Don't leave my line of sight."
"Yes Dad!" Tutankhamun tore off down the stairs, arms above his head.
Yugi bit into one of the chocolate croissants, offering one to Malik.
"Why is it that you can just consume sweet things and remain so tiny?"
"I have been blessed by Ra."
"Yeah," Malik rolled his eyes. "And my fat arse was blessed by Thoth, thanks."
Yugi tipped backward, making a point to raise his eyebrows at the tight jeans his friend was currently wearing. "Sorry Malik, there is nothing fat about your arse. You have a complex."
"What do you expect, being around you and Ryou all the time. The two of your just glow like anointed angels."
Yugi sighed. "Okay, that's it. We really need to get you married. You're obviously never going to believe me when I tell you that you're a walking sex-god."
Malik laughed, heading down the steps. "There is not a woman on his planet who would marry me. She'd be marrying an alien after all, and giving up her life."
Yami snorted, and Yugi was sure he heard the Pharaoh mutter something wildly inappropriate, making him immensely glad Tutankhamun was out of earshot.
"I don't think you give women enough credit." Yugi bounded after Malik, catching up with him. These men with their long legs, he was surrounded by them, and they never thought to slow down for him.
"Probably not."
"Besides," Yugi cracked a smile. "You don't get out enough to actually meet women."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "I meet you and Ryou all the time."
"Women, Malik…we're talking about the opposite gender."
"Oh—"
"Do not finish that sentence." Yugi held out a finger. "Or I will kick your balls in."
"Hmmm." Malik popped his lips. "It's almost worth it."
"Shut up."
Yugi turned, looking back to the imposing building that was the museum he had come to know so well. He was sure that Arthur would look after all his students, and enjoy the digs he had unfinished. The old man was still going strong, just like his grandfather. It was a bit uncanny just how those two old men just kept on living. Still, Yugi sipped his coffee, he would miss it—the normality he had gotten used to here.
Malik was waving over a taxi.
"I don't know why you're not just letting me take you by a tunnel, or even why you're not just Shadow Porting over."
Yugi blew a rasp. "Because you can't just rock up in another country without your documents stamped. Don't be stupid."
"Seto does it all the time."
"We're not all Seto Kaiba."
"I do it all the time."
"You're the ruler of an underground magical kingdom. The president of the United States freaks out when he hears your name."
Malik grinned, though Yugi was sure it was Marik who was smirking at that moment. "I really do love terrifying that man, it is so much fun."
Throwing his bags into the backseat of the taxi Yugi turned to Malik and hugged the huge giant. He closed his eyes, glad for the strong arms that encased him, lifting him off the ground. Glad that he had found friends—and after all these years, still had them. His cheeks where caught in rough, calloused hands, and his forehead was kissed.
"I'll see you in a week, yeah?"
Yugi nodded. "Keep safe."
"Always, Mini Pharaoh."
Clambering into the taxi beside Yami, Yugi waved through the window to Tutankhamun as the boy ran along beside the vehicle for as long as he could, until they vanished into the morning traffic.
Yugi dreamed. He dreamed often. He dreamed of sand been his toes, though his feet were laced with sandals, the fine grains still danced around his ankles. Wind tossed over the dunes he wandered across, a warm wind, capturing the heat still bleeding off the golden desert, despite the sun having sunken below the horizon. Stars lit the night sky in a blaze, far brighter than anything he had ever witnessed, almost as though they were closer to the Earth—or perhaps there was more of them—like the universe itself had not yet expanded outward and was still young.
In his dreams he knew he was in the past. He walked the laylines only a Light could walk, through time and space, to end up at a turning point in the history of his world. Always he found himself back at the same place amongst the desert. A great temple, rising out of the dunes, obelisks twisting their way into the stars, until they just seemed to kiss space and vanish into the darkness. Two figures stood on either side of a great looming ring crowning a ziggurat. He would always pause just before he entered the holy place, because the figures would turn in the blue glow of the light that emanated from the ring.
Just as he thought he would know who they were, to catch a glimpse of their faces, the hope was always dashed aside as he was pulled out of the dream, back into reality.
This time Yugi came awake to the warm air of Domino's skytrain system, blasting into his face. He blinked, staring at the hologram flashing around nearby, brightening up the night time skyline beyond the window. So much had changed in the five years he had been gone—and yet—so little had as well. Domino was a city forever encapsulated within itself, ever expanding, but expanding within its own limits. The technology developed within its borders was extraordinary, but it remained contained to the city itself like a modern-day curse. Yugi's gaze fell upon the obelisk like structure of Kaiba Tower—the source, he was sure, of the curse—if it was at all a curse and not some form of Shadow Magic the genius had harnessed somewhere along the way.
Was that still a curse though? Yugi studied his hands, then slowly turned to the reflection of himself in the window, beyond the holographic flashing images of the latest Duel Monsters, and adverts for sodas. He didn't look a day over twenty, even younger perhaps, due to his height. He felt somewhat like Doran Grey, living a double life—but instead of the poisonous narcissism and a pursuit of pleasure driving him—it was an unquenchable need to protect that which he had claimed as his, just as selfish sometimes, he had decided, as decadence was. The Millennium Puzzle around his neck was his portrait though, the true eye that saw into his soul and reflected it back out into the world.
His Yami.
His darkness.
His shadow.
::You're over thinking things, Aibou. ::
Yugi frowned. He turned away from his reflection. The internal voice of his other-half had become easily distinguishable over the years from his own inner monologue, but originally, it had been rather difficult to tell the difference. Now with the separating of their personalities and the Millennium Puzzle acting a bridge between the separated halves of the singular soul they had once been, Yami's voice came across with a distinct accent and flavour vastly different than his own mind.
::I'm always overthinking things, Yami. ::
::Let's just get home, yes?:: Yami offered. ::It's been a long flight. After a good meal and some rest, I am sure we'll feel better in the morning.::
Yugi stood as his stop was called out over the intercom. He reached for his suitcase. Yami always spoke reason.
"Thanks, Yami…" he muttered.
It amused him now that the Kame Game Shop was just a ten-minute walk from the immense air-rail road system. The little game shop stood out in what had become a bustling district of nightlife shops in the years he had been gone, and even as he wandered down the street, people were still out and about enjoying the fresh evening air. A new restaurant had opened up over the road. He imagined his grandfather had been rather happy about that, it looked like one of those cute little restaurants that would bring in a lot of gamers. Seto had something to do with it—he was sure of it. Seto had a soft spot for his grandfather, who had become rather like a surrogate father to all of his friends over the years.
Could he call Seto a friend?
Maybe that stretching it a little.
::Maybe a little, aibou.:: Yami agreed.
Yugi chuckled, nodding his head as he crossed the road. The same old streetlight sat outside the shop, beaming down onto the front entrance. He fished around in his pocket for the keys, a kick of nostalgia getting him in the gut. He was really home. The key turned in the lock and Yugi settled back on his heels, breathing out in amazement. It was almost as if his grandfather had refused to change the locks in the vague hope that someday his grandson would return to open the front door with the same keys he had left with.
"Oh…grandpa…" Yugi whispered.
The lower shop section was silent, and though dark, it was lit by dancing Christmas lights over the glass counters. Yugi caught the glow of light emanating from the upstairs home area, and the murmur of voices. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, sensing Yami stretch out his shadows, greeting those of another Dark. Bakura was here, which meant the sensation he was feeling across his skin in prickling waves was from Ryou's nearby presence. Yugi smiled and leapt up the stairs.
"Grandpa!" He threw his arms around the startled old man. The familiar smell of unpacked games from the storage room under the game shop filled him with memories and he squeezed tighter, hearing his grandfather's laughter.
"Yugi, my boy! You're finally home."
"Well, didn't I say I was coming home." Yugi pulled away, studying the unchanged face before him and his heart skipped a beat. It was still all there, the same wrinkles around tired eyes, grey hair hidden under a bandanna, and the tuffs of a scruffy beard around his well-defined chin. His grandfather was like a solid stone, unbeaten by the wind, ever present in his life—in both his lifetimes.
His cheeks were grabbed in strong hands. "Welcome home. Both of you."
Yugi sagged into the embrace again, sensing Yami's relief. His other-half had been expecting a reprimanding for some reason, Yami always did.
"Now, come, come." Solomon turned away, ushering him toward the living room. "I imagine you're tired and hungry from your flight. Ryou is entertaining our guest, go and join them."
"You have a guest?"
"Hmm," Solomon nodded. "Another stray, he's been here for a few days. Ryou's taken your room, I hope that's not a problem."
"Is the other spare free?"
Solomon shook his head. "Seto's bunked in it, you don't want to know what it looks like now."
Yugi wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or to feel intense concern. It sort of all came out in a squeaking sound. "What is Seto doing here? Please don't tell me Serenity kicked him out?"
Solomon raised an eyebrow. "No, nothing like that. She and the kids went to America for a few weeks to visit Joseph. You know Seto can't sleep alone. I keep the room for him or Mokuba."
"You're far too nice Grandpa."
"Well, someone has to look after you lot. Now, off with you, let me order some food."
Yugi quickly obeyed, knowing better than to get between his grandfather and ordering take away.
::Curious,:: Yami quipped up.
::What's curious?::
::Well, grandfather usually chases all the strays away, why has he kept this one?::
Yugi frowned in agreement as he wandered through the kitchen, noticing the updated modern design around all the Christmas decorations—that he was sure Ryou had everything to do with. Seto had been living here more often, for sure, or maybe Mokuba. One of the brothers was looking after his grandfather and keeping the old man out of trouble.
::The Kaiba brothers are very likely the culprit here.::
::Nothing goes on in this city without Seto knowing.:: Yami mused. ::If it was a problem, I guess Grandfather would have said something.::
Yugi was not so sure about that. With them both leaving home, it was as though Solomon had tried to give them space, to let them explore without worrying about him back in Domino and that had been a difficult thing to stomach at first. He shrugged it off, plastering a smile across his cheeks as he entered the living room, swinging himself over a crouch and landing beside Ryou. His fellow Light would have known he was approaching, and didn't give any sort of startle of surprise at his appearance, however the other occupant of the room almost dropped the cup of tea he held.
"Yugi, that was not very nice to poor Daniel Jackson."
"Sorry." Yugi laughed. He held out a hand. "Hello, I'm Yugi Motou, Solomon's grandson."
"Ah," Daniel struggled in that moment. He quickly put down his cup and took the offered hand. He looked confused, Yugi realised, at the English they were speaking, while being in Japan. He was almost tempted to begin speaking Japanese, or perhaps Ancient Egyptian, just to throw the man off even more, but that would have been a little cruel. He heard Yami's laughter—his other half had rubbed off on him too much.
"Hi, ah, I'm Doctor Daniel Jackson. I was a student of an old friend of your grandfathers."
An American from the accent that greeted him. It was surprising, how many Americans he had met on the duelling circuit, and yet their varied accents were a wonder to him. The grip of the doctor was warm, and surprisingly strong for someone who had the appearance of being stuck behind books and scrolls for hours on end. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something endearing about the man sitting across from him, who almost had the glow of a Light akin to his own and Ryou's—but it was masked—as if he had walked through a storm and the clouds had stuck to him. He was such a stereotype of an archaeologist, with his squared glasses perked on the edge of his nose, and long ash-brown hair cupped around his cheeks. Hair that needed to be tied back in a tiny little pony tail—Yugi bit his lip, resisting the urge.
It was Daniel's eyes, though, that Yugi had seen before, reflecting in a mirror. While they were the clearest of blue, they held a deepened knowledge of a secret. Yugi traced the edges of the Millennium Puzzle.
::He has secrets, this one.:: Yami murmured. ::And how did the protections on the house let him past without notifying us?::
Yami's irritation at the Shadow's that protected the Kame Game Shop tickled Yugi's skin under the thick coat he wore. He sensed the Shadow's themselves within the surrounding area retreat away from him, aware of their master's displeasure.
::If he was a threat, Yami, grandpa wouldn't have let him in, and you know very well your Shadow's wouldn't have either. So calm down.::
"Professor Hawkins' sent you?" Yugi sat back. He had last seen the old man at a dig site about a week ago, and he had given no indication about any of his stray students visiting the Game Shop.
"Well, I wouldn't…well…kind of…" Daniel winced. "I just found an old letter from some time ago. It's a weird story."
"That's fine, we do weird here." Yugi grinned.
"Did you know Professor Hawkins' well?" Daniel inquired.
"Sure." Yugi piped up. "I've worked with him on numerous digs now." Yugi glanced to Ryou. "And we had some adventures together, back when we were teens. His granddaughter is married to close friend of ours now, so he's a bit like family, though, in a manner of speaking, he always was."
"Well, he is Grandfather's friend." Ryou spread his hands. "I was just telling Daniel here how we all call Solomon our Grandfather, since none of us actually have parents or grandparents."
Yugi sat back. "Wow. You know…that's the first time that thought has even crossed my mind."
::It's no wonder Seto and Mokuba dote on Grandpa.:: Yugi sighed inwardly.
::Doctor Daniel Jackson. Why do I know that name?:: Yami queried.
::He wrote that book on the Pyramids being landing pads for alien spaceships.:: Yugi sucked in a small breath as a shiver ran down his spine, the seasoned mental voice of Bakura slipping into his mind like a hot flavour against his tongue. He tapped a finger against his knee, sideways studying Daniel as he took up his teacup once more. How strange that Doctor Daniel Jackson was sitting in the living room of his grandfather—he was so sure he had heard from Professor Hawkins that the Daniel Jackson who had written the book on aliens had died in some terrible accident.
::Apparently not.:: Ryou nudged him. ::And stop staring with your mouth open. Honestly Yugi, I thought I taught you manners years ago.::
:Sorry…:: Yugi shuffled back, flashing his most endearing smile.
Solomon finally entered, bringing in a tray of predinner nibbles that he lay on the nearby table.
"I ordered your favourite takeaway Yugi, I hope you don't mind."
"Why ever would I mind, Grandpa. I'm happy to be home." He looked to Ryou. "Didn't expect you to beat me here though?"
"Hmm, I've been here for about a week already."
"The Towns folk let you leave Albion for longer than a couple days?" He smirked, snatching up a chip. "And here I thought all hell would break loose upon Earth if you left your post?"
Ryou shrugged. "Sometimes one requires a break. I left my butler in charge."
There was much to regal about Ryou's extremely bizarre life. He had spent the first year out of school trying to sort out Ryou's life—and while it had been a fascinating year, he did not envy his best-friend in the slightest. There were some secrets that even he wished he had never been privy too—but—of course, becoming part of a select group of immortal beings made it difficult to escape responsibility and burdens of some world secrets.
"I'm scared of your butler."
"You should be." Ryou leant back. ::Even Bakura is scared of him.:: He added privately.
::I'm not scared, I'm cautious of the old bugger.::
Yugi hid his amusement behind another crunch of a chip.
"And you, Doctor Daniel Jackson—"
"Please…just…ah…call me Daniel." Daniel waved a hand about quickly, a light blush tinging his cheeks.
"Well, then, Daniel," Yugi continued, "whatever brought you to Japan? Least of all Domino? There are much nicer places to visit than Domino. This city is so…well…modern. Tottori is pretty…yes…much prettier."
Ryou nodded in agreement. "Or we could take you on a special guided tour of Kyoto, even that would be nicer."
"I think we have a few Shinto Shrines around…do we Grandpa? You took me to visit them, didn't you?" Yugi frowned, trying to recall the visits.
"Hmm," his grandfather tapped his chin. "I do believe Seto has left them alone in his redevelopments. They'd be in agricultural areas of the city now. I believe they are used in the new Duelling Quest Events held annually." Solomon raised a disproving eyebrow and Yugi burrowed deeper into his chair. A point of contention from all his friends and family was his retirement from mega-duelling. Seto loathed him for it. He just wanted the peace from the fame.
"Well, it's hard to explain…" Daniel looked wistfully to the nearby window, revealing a light falling of snow against the sparkling city lights. "I just, felt like…I had to come…"
Yugi sipped his tea, hiding a small smile behind the cup. It was in the man's voice, a longing. It couldn't be hidden, for it just flowed out of him. Glancing towards his grandfather Yugi noted Solomon's small head nod.
::Alright, so Grandpa thinks he's worth something then. Guess we'll find out sooner or later.::
000000000000
00000000
00
Eventually the night grew too late and the exhaustion of travel weighted on Yugi like a heavy sack. He tore himself away from his grandfather's side and trudged his way upstairs, so glad he did not have to drag the weight of his luggage any longer. Shadow Magic was beautiful. His room was beautiful too, as he staggered into it. It had barely changed since he had left it all those years ago. Despite Ryou's discarded shirts flung over the desk chair, and the bed freshly made, it was still the same old room he had crafted the Puzzle in.
It was the room in which he had Yami had truly first become a singular entity once again. It was the room that began their journey to becoming one being, that ended in the Ceremonial Duel. Yugi sighed, shaking off the weight of the memories. Ryou had made himself at home, and he was somewhat glad his friend had. It lightened the mood, and had dusted away all the cobwebs.
Medical text books sat across the desk, having the uncanny sensation that he still lived there, studying busily for his final year exams. They were Bakura's no doubt about it though. Without the ability to sleep, Bakura needed something to occupy his mind, and had poured himself into studying medicine—of all things. His theory being, that if he couldn't cut up bodies in battle, he'd damn well patch up the bodies that came out of battle. He wasn't quite sure how the old thief came to that conclusion, but whatever kept him away from murder was fine. The huge, thick volumes, full of jargon and information utterly useless to him and Yami, unless ditching the books at Bakura was considered useful. Yugi shook his head as he turned away, crouching under the bed, dragging out the futon stored thereunder. He rolled it out on the floor, only looking up when Ryou entered, closing the door behind him.
"You sure you don't want the bed?" Ryou offered.
Yugi shook his head. "It's best you take it still. Don't worry, I remember how bad you are with the floor."
Ryou shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed, stripping off his shirt. It had taken years for Yugi not to flinch at the sight of the scars that littered the innate, pale skin of the young British lord. It was not as though he did not bear his own scars from his own ordeals, but it was ever more difficult to see the scars of another, to see they had walked an equally difficult path.
"So, Doctor Jackson looks like a smart man," Yugi said.
Ryou collapsed back into the bed.
"Hmm, yes, he is rather. I've been dodging him the whole week I've been here. Damn near terrified the life out of me when he opened the bloody blinds the first morning I was here. Thankfully, I did have my sun-filter on."
"He hasn't figured out what you are yet, has he?"
"I highly doubt it's possible for him to figure out I'm the host of a vampiric bacterial alien lifeform, and that I'm the reincarnation of an ancient warlord thief. It's a bit of a guess, Yugi."
Yugi hummed in the back of his throat. "Yeah, but, the man worked with Professor Hawkins and had mad ideas about aliens."
"The key word in that sentence, Yugi, was mad. No one would ever believe anything we say or do." Ryou rolled around. "Our lives are just far to fantastical."
"Did Grandpa give you any idea of what he's doing here in Domino?"
Ryou eased back on the headboard of the bed, a small frown touching his lips. "Grandfather has been a little tight-lipped about it, but I do know they had a long conversation the night Daniel arrived. I wasn't privy to it, and Bakura got called into the hospital, so he was unable to snoop. However, in saying that, he has been snooping now that he's back."
"Oh, really?"
"Some habits are hard to break." Ryou scoffed.
"What did he find?" Yugi pressed.
Ryou was silent for a while before he turned in the bed, facing Yugi. "I do not know how he has them Yugi, but he has a couple folders stored in his suitcase containing photos of artefacts with the Before Tongue on them."
"The language before Babel?" Yugi whispered. "How does he…we've only found, what, maybe a few pieces of that here and there. Did Bakura have any idea what they said?"
Ryou shook his head. "There was a lot of it, and I mean a lot. Bakura read a few pages before skipping out to wait for you and Yami. Now, do not panic, but the text Bakura read mentioned the Millennium Items. Though, I highly doubt Daniel has translated it."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he did not just have the Before Tongue in those folders, he also had…Goa'uld."
"Goa'uld." That word alone chilled Yugi's skin, despite the warmth of his duvets. He didn't want to dwell on the memories it dredged up, memories that had been torn away from Yami over years of lonely imprisonment within the Puzzle, but returned to him eventually. Memories that completed them, but they ached, burned and scratched, all because of a word he loathed whenever someone said it.
Yugi turned sharply to Ryou, wishing his friend had remained silent.
"I think he can read it, likely speak some of it too, but even if he can, it will take a long time to figure out the Before Tongue from Goa'uld."
Yugi flopped back onto his futon, groaning loudly. In the back of his mind, he heard Yami's low chuckle. The king was trying to see the positive, trying to enjoy the fact that they had a possible evil-guy on their hands. Yami did always like possible evil strangers, it made for an interesting life.
Ryou waved a hand around in the darkness between them. "Personally, Yugi, I do not think Daniel is a threat. The man just seems…incredibly desperate."
Yugi nodded. "I did sense that, yes." Snuggling down into the covers Yugi stared up at the skylight window. The immense domed shield that would protected Domino city was still in construction, but the glinting lights on the receiver stations burned like bright stars against the dark clear sky.
"Ah…I'll think about it all in the morning."
"You do that." It sounded like Ryou yawned as he shuffled down deeper into his blankets. "Goodnight, Ma'at."
"Goodnight." Yugi echoed.
Fantastical lives, Ryou had said. That was true enough. He had been born and raised in a fantastical city and for all that, sometimes his life felt boring and mundane—and then he would realise that was only because he had become so used to the extraordinary. Maybe living in Domino had done that to him. In the glow of the nightlife he watched as Bakura and Yami's shapes began to form. Like a bubbling cauldron, shadows gathered at first, then swirled upward like vines, building in coils until the two Darks stood side by side under the glow of the skylight. Yugi breathed in the smell that came with them, the scent he had come to know as the herbs and spices that came with mummification. It was eerie that both spirits carried such a flavour to their presence, but somewhat fitting, considering their Schrodinger existence of being neither alive, nor dead. He watched them both lazily sit on the nearby slouch chairs, their movements practiced, like they had been taught them, again, and again, to act natural.
He drifted into a finally dreamless slumber to the muted tones of their voices, just glad of their presence, and glad to be in the safety net of home.
Daniel startled awake. He groaned, rubbing the back of his aching neck. His glasses were askew on his face, and he didn't need to be a genius to figure out he had fallen asleep at his desk—again. It was becoming a bad habit. His little, pokey room was scattered in papers from essays and reference books, but none of them were helping. So far he was falling short in translating the mountains of data Sam had sent over to him, because apparently, it really—really—really needed to be worked on, right this moment despite him not being anywhere near America and it being Christmas. It sounded like, from Jack's phone call, that on a little moon of a gas giant, SG1, along with the science team, SG6, had stumbled upon a little hidden temple under a mountainside amongst a deep forest. Jack had gone into great detail about it, which amused him, as if the man wanted to impress upon him that they had missed him on the mission and he was feeling guilty for finding something so awesome without him there.
Truthfully it had been Sam's gadget that had picked up on a faint energy signature stemming from a crystal embedded in the wall, and like many of the artefacts he had begun to collect over his adventures, the language inscribed on the wall was almost Goa'uld—but not quite. It was just like the remnants he had discovered on Abydos.
What Sam was excited about was the fact that there was nothing on the moon, nothing but that little temple and the stargate itself. Nothing showed signs of Goa'uld habitation or invasion. Of all the pictures he had seen, everything felt remarkably of-Earth, uncannily Human. He had wanted a vacation of sorts but no, his work just followed him everywhere.
What had SG1 been up to his in his absence. His team needed him—didn't they? Well, apparently, they did…
Daniel sagged back into his seat.
"Coffee." He staggered upward. "I need coffee."
Briefly washing his face in the communal bathroom, and checking that he did look presentable, Daniel headed downstairs. He caught the murmuring of voices, in a language he knew was not Japanese. If it was Japanese, he would have understood it. He had been surprised when Solomon Motou had insisted in speaking English with him, using him to practice. When he got to speak to Ryou more he better understood why the elderly gentleman was so fluent. Not only had Solomon Motou been a world traveller in his youth, but his grandson's friends all hailed from various places across the globe. Ryou was half-British and kept throwing Daniel off his feet by his startling appearance. He hadn't yet figured out how the man, who he was positive was an albino, walked outside in daylight without suffering the ill effects.
The voices he heard now, he was sure one of them was Bakura's—the man who bunked with Ryou, and who Solomon seemed to only just tolerate the existence of. He had seen the grandfather give the man a fierce dressing down the day after he arrived, much to Ryou's embarrassment. The new voice though, he was sure it wasn't Yugi.
Poking his head around the door, Daniel spotted Bakura beside the stove, making the usual breakfast of pancakes. It seemed like all the man knew how to make, but he could make them well. Nearby, sitting on the bench in a casual pair of slacks and a black shirt, far too large for his frame, another man sat, minding the brewing coffee. If it was not for the distinct bronze skin, and layers of hair loosely braided in a tail down his back, Daniel could have sworn the man was Yugi. He had to shake his head just to clear the vision.
"Good morning, Daniel." Bakura called out. "Pancakes?"
Daniel cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, thank you, Bakura. Is there coffee?"
"Yami, is there coffee?" Bakura pointed with his spatula.
"Yes, there is."
"There you go, Daniel. There is coffee for you. Oh, yes, you haven't met my bestie—"
"Gods, don't call us that ever again."
"My bestie, best most wonderful friend Atemu, but we call him Yami."
Daniel recalled the photograph Solomon had showed him the first night he had arrived. This was the young man from that photo, lifting Solomon's grandson up in a playful twirl. He was even more striking in person that he was in a picture, with features of sharp lines and almond eyes outlined in thick kohl, tinged in a slight gold flake. Daniel forced down a lump in his throat, trying to resist the urge in his feet that told him to turn around and leave the overwhelming presence.
"Yami? Means dark, right?"
Yami shrugged. "Some nicknames stay with you for life."
"Is it for your skin?" Daniel reached for a coffee mug, noticing for the first time the reason why the man was sitting on the counter. He was just as short was Yugi and Solomon Motou. He was likely sitting on it so he could talk to Bakura while he worked by the stove and their conversation could flow easier.
"My skin?" Yami glanced down at himself and started laughing. "You know, I never thought it could be seen that way, but no, dark personality actually."
"And dark deeds," Bakura muttered.
Yami shrugged nonchalantly. "Yes, true, but we don't mention those anymore, do we?"
"Hmmmm," Bakura tested one of his pancakes, "say that to the man whose eyes you burnt out of his head…or…that woman you put into a mental hospital—"
A thrown knife slammed into the wall beside Bakura's head.
"I said we don't mention them."
Daniel looked between the two. He was honestly not sure if we was supposed to take the exchange seriously or not.
"Good morning, Doctor Jackson, Yami…and…Bakura."
Solomon entered, looking fresh from an early morning shower, tucking in his work shirt. He eyed Bakura at the stove before turning to Yami.
"I expect you to keep him in line."
Yami gave a salute. "He will not leave my sight."
"I don't need a babysitter. I am perfectly capable of—"
Solomon shuffled up to him and glared, shutting off Bakura's words. Daniel smirked into his hot coffee. There was only one other person he knew like Solomon Motou and that was the General. They both had the same ability to command respect from people who just didn't give a damn. It was such a glorious thing to see. Bakura reminded him a little of Jack in the regard of disobedience.
"You behave." Solomon stole a pancake off a nearby plate.
"Honestly, I've been behaving for years. I'm a world respected surgeon, for goodness sake. What more do I have to do to prove myself?"
Solomon walked away, toward the stairs. "The thought of you working on alive people is terrifying."
Yami tugged on his ear. "Better then him working on dead people."
"Shut up." Bakura scoffed, and twirled a knife with far more grace than Daniel felt comfortable with. "The old man just has it out for me."
"Well, you did almost kill us."
"It was years ago."
"Twice."
Bakura pulled a face. "Well it's not like you're any better."
Yami slid off the counter. "Yes, but I'm just so much more loveable then you."
"Oh, shove off, you arse. He likes you because you're his grandson in this life, and beloved Pharaoh in another. You know, that's it, he's totally got it out for me because of his past life. Damn, shouldn't have killed him."
"Ryou is practically blood, so don't give me that crap. He loves Ryou." Yami picked up another knife. Daniel stepped back. These two men really seemed to enjoy their knives.
"If you throw that thing at my head, again, Pharaoh, I swear I will feed Yugi coffee."
Yami groaned. Bakura shoved a large platter of pancakes into his arms. "Go, go, out of my kitchen. Go. You as well, Jackson."
Knowing just how prickly Bakura could get in the morning, Daniel quickly followed Yami over to the nearby kitchen table, settling himself down. He was not quite sure when Yami had grabbed the coffee jug to refill his mug, but the man was there, at his side, doing so. He nodded in thanks and a warm smile replaced the faint scowl that had knitted across the young man's brow.
Picking up a plate Yami twirled around the kitchen toward the table, placing the first round of pancakes down in front of Daniel. He headed toward the nearby open door and yelled.
"Yugi! Ryou! If you're not down in a few minutes, I'll come up and drag the covers off you. Get up and be functional adults."
Bakura scoffed from nearby. "Right, functional adults, that'd be the day."
"I swear," Yami sighed heavily as he settled into a chair, "you put those two back into a familiar habitat and they revert into teenagers."
"What do you expect." Bakura carried over a tray of pancake toppings.
"Anything but you serving pancakes."
"I think it's the only thing he can make," Daniel muttered.
"No." Bakura wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm actually a fabulous cook. I just loath making a mess of the pristine kitchen in the morning." He frowned in disproval at Yami. "I'm surprised you haven't done more with your time. Look at me, I learnt to be a surgeon, plus how to cook, and you…what…can now hack through the jungle? I recall doing that with you a few centuries ago."
"I've done plenty." Yami slouched back. "You turned domestic, I turned into you."
"Yes, well, we all can't be perfect."
"Oh, shut up."
"I was talking about Kaiba," Bakura mocked.
"Hmmm." Yami looked away. "True enough."
With a side on glance between them both as he slowly ate Daniel listened. He was missing the whole conversation, positive there was underlining point to what was being said around him. If he wasn't there, he wondered what the words would have been.
"So, Doctor, any luck on those translations your work sent through?" Bakura eased down in the nearby chair.
Daniel sighed, looking down at his second pancake drowned in butter. "No, and frankly, I'm just not feeling like it right now."
"Don't be too hard on yourself. It is supposed to be the holidays." Yami smiled.
"I suppose so."
"Hey, hey." Bakura waved his spatula in the air. "If I have the take time off work, everyone else does as well."
"Bakura, the world does no revolve around you." Ryou called out from the doorway.
"Yes it does." Bakura pointed with the kitchen utensil. "Your world does, at least."
"Shut up."
Yugi's head poked out from under Ryou's arms. "Good morning Daniel Jackson! Oh, pancakes! I haven't had pancakes in ages. Thank you Bakura!" Yugi looped around Ryou with ease. "Any coffee."
"No," Bakura stole a cup away. "You are banned from coffee, the Pharaoh told me how much you are consuming. You are banned."
"You can't ban me—"
Bakura slammed the cup down. "One cup a day. That's it. Now think very carefully how you want that one cup. Shitty bad morning coffee?"
Yugi narrowed his eyes. "You haven't got any authority to ban me from coffee."
"Oh, but I beg to differ, Em Ma'at. I didn't get a degree in Medical Science because I was bored…well…I did, but I also got it to lord over you."
Yugi breathed in a sharp breath. "Yami—"
Yami held out both hands. "Oh, don't look at me, I'm just a Pharaoh. In matters of healing, I go to the Priests, not my area, aibou."
"Oh, you are so full of it!" Yugi pulled out a chair beside Daniel and sat down in a slouch. "Gaming up on me. You're all evil."
Ryou grinned, and Daniel startled. In that moment, despite the differences between them, Ryou looked uncannily like Bakura with such a leer. "So delightfully evil, old chap."
"Yami, throw a knife at him—"
"No one is throwing knives!" Solomon's voice boomed up the stairs. "You settle your differences with card games, Motou Yugi!"
Daniel set his coffee mug down, his shoulders sagging. He was still on Earth wasn't he? He hadn't stepped through the Stargate onto a different planet, or maybe into a different reality entirely. The conversation around him continued, something about the card game, and a reunion coming up in a few days. Yugi looked utterly put out, enough that Yami's arm went around his shoulder, hugging it firmly before he stood, gathering up their used plates to follow Bakura back into the kitchen.
Daniel hugged his lukewarm coffee mug closer. Hawkins' had told him to be prepared for answers, but just what type of answers was he supposed to be expecting. He still found himself confronted with the very idea that sitting across from him was Catherine's grandson. That knowledge alone kept throwing him off balance.
"So…Daniel," Yugi had propped his chin on a hand and was staring at him with a wistful look, though more likely he was gazing at his coffee mug. Daniel shifted the drink away and heard Ryou's soft laughter as Yugi pouted.
Daniel smiled, drinking the remainder of the bitter liquid.
"Yes, Yugi?"
"Yami mentioned you're having trouble with your work. You're in a house full of egg-heads you know, we'd be happy to lend a hand." He pointed to Ryou, "He's a Professor of Ancient History, though mostly in English and European."
"You are?" Daniel looked back to Ryou. He hadn't expected someone so young to hold such a position, but then, he had been perhaps the same age when he had come up with his whack ideas.
"Well, when I teach at Oxford I tend to wear button up sweaters with elbow pads. Bakura tells me I look like an old man with my white hair. Apparently, it's adorable. Yugi's wearing one of my sweaters, because he's an idiot, and hasn't got any clothes."
He had not even noticed the enormous sweater Yugi was wearing, that he utterly drowned in. It was a soft cashmere brown, and indeed, did have elbow pads. Yugi tipped his head, grinning under his wild mop of hair. "I pack light. Ryou doesn't. We're good friends like that."
Ryou snorted.
Yugi tapped his chest. "I'm a behavioural scientist, and like you, I've also studied archaeology, majoring in Egyptology."
"But you're…what…twenty…"
"Almost twenty-nine. We're getting on, aren't we Ryou."
"Positively ancient."
Daniel choked. "No, that's…not possible." He stared at them both. Perhaps he could see Ryou being older, just because of his hair, but the small, petite Yugi was a near impossibility.
"You're a few years younger than I am."
"I know, shocking isn't it." Yugi laughed. "I have great genes. You've seen my grandfather. So, like I said, if you need help, you're in the right house."
Daniel sighed. "Thanks for the offer, but I just don't know if I'm even allowed to show anyone. National Security and all that."
Yugi removed his glasses, wiping them on the hem of his sweater. "Yeah, we know all about that. Ryou's a Knight for the Queen, gets him into all sorts of trouble."
"Yugi," Ryou griped.
"What, it's not like it's a secret." Yugi laughed. "It's just the missions you go on are a secret."
"You are the worst at this job, Yugi."
"I know." Yugi beamed. "But hey, it's nice to know we're not the only ones with national security breathing down our necks."
Kindred spirits. Was that what he had found in the two men sitting around the table. He felt as though they were all speaking in code, trying to say something without saying it and Daniel almost found himself laughing at how hilarious the situation was. Yugi finally sat forward, rubbing his head, as if trying to rub away a headache.
"You know, Daniel, perhaps your problem is exhaustion," Yugi offered. "You're supposed to have come here to get away from whatever it is that's haunting your nightmares, not aggravate it by working How about we take you on a tour of Domino."
From the kitchen, a clattering of plates was heard and a conversation in a language Daniel could not quite make out, but was positive he had heard before.
"Oh, we could take you to Kaiba Tower even." Ryou offered. "Not many people get access to that, do they Yugi?" Ryou rubbed his chin.
"Well, I…the offer is nice…but I really should…"
"Nope," Yugi shook his head. "You need a break. It's settled."
Daniel smiled wearily, running a hand through his hair as the young man grinned across to him. He could hardly say no to that face, could he? Sighing he relented and nodded.
Yugi slouched back in his chair with a long sigh. "Wonderful, maybe I can get some clothes that fit while we're out."
"That will be a miracle." Ryou chuckled. "You cannot keep wearing my clothes, you look like a whale."
Yugi flashed a grin. "But a sexy whale."
"More like a seal, Yugi." Ryou rolled his eyes.
"Oh, I'm a selkie! Hey, Yami, Ryou figured out what I am, I'm a selkie!"
Yami's head appeared around the kitchen door. "Ryou, stop encouraging him."
"I did not do anything."
Daniel held back laugher. Yami was shoved aside and Bakura re-entered, carrying two glasses of water. He set one down in front of Ryou, and dropped in two tablets that began to dissolve. "Drink up."
"Thanks." Ryou nodded.
Bakura slid the second glass toward Yugi, along with a packet of pills. Yugi raised an eyebrow as he snatched up the packet. "I'm not that addicted to coffee, Bakura."
"No, you're not, but Yami mentioned the migraines. You shouldn't keep these things from me, I need to know them, pip-squeak."
"You guys are like doting parents, it's pretty adorable you know." Yugi popped out two pills, drowning them with a single gulp.
"I'm not a doting parent," Bakura turned away, "I'm your doctor. If you're not in good health, the rest of us suffer the consequences, so look after yourself better."
"Yes, sir, I will sir."
"Much better." Bakura strolled away. "Now tell your grandfather to stop being a dick to me."
Yugi smirked. "Nah, I sorta like it. You're going to have to earn his respect yourself, Bakura. Sorry."
Bakura paused by the door. "It's the past life thing, isn't it?"
Yugi shrugged. "Might be. You did tie him a couple horses and have him ripped apart…" Yugi briefly closed his eyes. "He didn't have an easy death to remember."
Bakura groaned. "I am never going to make up for it."
"Don't try," Yugi offered. "Just…let him forgive you on his own terms. You don't have to make up for it Bakura. Yami and I appreciate you for who you are."
"I know that pip-squeak."
Daniel was not sure when everyone left, leaving him at the table, staring at their vacant spots. Had they even realised he had been in the room as they had spoken. They had talked about past lives as they it was all real, affecting the here and now. He shook his head.
"Jacks right," he massaged his temples, "I just attract crazy."
The figure in the mirror mocked him. It mocked him before he had barely changed, and no matter how much he tried, his body remained frozen from the point he had sipped the Elixir. Well, he frowned, that was not entirely true, he was aging, just extremely slowly. All his research into the Elixir had led him to the knowledge that the liquid caused his body to be ever so slightly out of sync with the universe, thus placing him on another plain of existence. Rather like the ritual that had once been performed on the Earth itself, centuries ago, to protect the planet from the Goa'uld.
His eyes fell on the Puzzle, resting gently against his chest. Ryou could hide the Ring under all his layers of clothing. The Puzzle was not something that could be hidden away, it was always on display. It had been designed for that purpose. A piece of art for a Pharaoh to wear amongst layers of jewels. To be honest, Yugi thought it looked ridiculous trying to couple it with modern day clothing, and so he simply stopped bothering to try—much to Tea's horror during their final year of school. It had been a difficult year, a year in which he had learnt so much about himself, and about the world he had fallen into after the Ceremonial Duel.
Shadow Magic had re-entered the universe, however large it was, through the Dark Dimension, and his body was the doorway, only there was no way he could possibly sustain the immense strain that had once naturally accrued before the Ritual. To make all matters worse, he was only the physical half of a split-soul. Yami had no corporal form despite his ability to manipulate the Shadows to his will, and they could not re-join into a single entity no matter the will of the Puzzle. The strain was killing him, like a poison eating at his flesh. Ryou took some of the burden, as his first Priest, but that only forestalled death. Eventually they convinced Seto of the urgency, and soon Malik found them, anxious and worried about the signs he was seeing in the Hidden Kingdom. But even three Priests to his Court could not help him maintain the equilibrium he needed, the damage had been done, his body was rapidly decaying.
Yugi covered his face.
Of all the choices, he had been faced with in his life, finding the legendary Fountain of Youth to drink an Elixir that would make him an immortal was not a choice he had ever expected. It had worked though, and here he was, able to act as a gateway for both the Dark and Light Dimensions into the Physical Plain.
Bakura was right.
He had to take better care of himself.
The Elixir might have given him immortality, but it didn't cure being Human—at least not right away. Not for several thousand years, he estimated. He was going to look this young and ordinary for a long time.
"You have changed, aibou."
The nearby wall rippled, shadows expanding outward, and Yami's figure stepped out into the glinting bathroom light.
Yugi tipped his head to one side as the Pharaoh eased down beside him on the rim of the bathtub.
"You're just saying that."
"No," Yami shook his head. "I'm not. I know you better than anyone, so wouldn't I know if you'd changed."
"If you say I've changed and grown on the inside—"
The Pharaoh's hands captured his cheeks. He always expected them to be cold. Cold—lifeless—and without the true texture of riveted Human flesh—the slimy embodiment of death, but not this time, the spirit was projecting his form, crafting a perfect human illusion. Yugi wanted to sink into the warmth. How could shadows be warm?
"Because you are a sun, aibou, and I absorb your warmth."
"Thanks. Nice to know you're a black hole."
"Perhaps I am." Yami pressed their foreheads together. "I see a wrinkle. Right there…"
Yugi slapped him, the movement causing him to slip and topple sideways, into the bath. Yami's grip tightened around his middle, halting him midfall.
"Honestly, aibou, are you trying to crack your head open?"
Yugi flopped back. "You're not making me feel any better, you know."
"On the contrary, I think I'm doing a marvellous job."
He was hoisted up with a sharp yank and Yami hugged him tightly. "Come, aibou, let's go and enjoy Ryou's Christmas tradition."
Yugi nodded wearily. "I'm sorry, I guess coming home has just dredged up all the memories."
"Well, put it this way, you get to go clothes shopping, your totally favourite thing to do."
Yugi pulled a face at the sarcastic jibe. "I need Malik or Tea here. I can't shop to save my life."
"It's a good thing I have a sense of fashion then. You lost it somewhere during final year."
Pouting Yugi reached for Ryou's thick sweater hanging on a nearby rack. "I happen to like Ryou's sweaters."
"Then we'll get you some sweaters, one's that don't make you look like a whale."
"A sexy whale."
Yami rolled his eyes. "You keep saying that aibou, it isn't going to catch on."
The door flung open. Yugi squeaked in shock, grabbing Yami's arm before he toppled over on the tiles. He really hoped that wasn't Daniel.
He peered around, relaxing at the sight of Ryou, only to tense up again at the frantic look in his friend's face. Ryou usually knocked, the very fact that he hadn't knocked meant something was wrong—and the mobile he clasped in his hand was a pointer in that direction.
"Ah…I…can…ah…I can come back." Ryou bit his lips.
Yugi shook his head. "No, no, what is it."
"It's my butler..."
Behind him he felt Yami tense, the muscles of his illusionary form bunching up. Yugi rolled his shoulders back, against the Dark's chest, trying to loosen the grip the spirit had. Dealing with the Puzzle's increasing weight was hard enough sometimes, he hardly wanted to explain bruises to his grandfather.
"And, is he ordering you to come home?"
"No, actually," Ryou frowned, "might have been a good thing I was here. My manor was attacked."
"What?" Yami burst out.
"It's fine, Atemu," Bakura stepped out from a wall, shadow's dancing around his ankles.
"Fine? How is it fine? Your manor is one of the most heavily fortified ancient areas on this planet? I can barely scratch the surface of its defence system, and the bloody fairies like me."
"No, they like me." Yugi piped up. "Where they after Arthur's Sword?"
Ryou shook his head. "No, they were after me. They didn't even go into the town. Thank goodness, I don't know what I would do if my people were hurt." Ryou covered his face. "I should have checked the wards before I left."
"You did, Ryou." Bakura assured. "Everything was fine."
"They could have killed…" Ryou choked.
Bakura pulled him into a hug. "The town folk know how to fight. They're not useless peasants from the Dark Ages. Besides, Pastor Mark is there too, and you know the old bastard would never let anything happen to the town."
Yugi frowned. "Was it Hunters?"
Bakura shook his head. "Unlikely. Hunter's wouldn't have been able to get through the defence system of Camelot. No, Alfred got a call from Sebastian, said it's more likely to be…the Illuminate. They've been pestering Ceil of late."
Perhaps it was just the heat of the bathroom they were stupidly standing in having this important conversation, but Yugi felt sweat trickle down his chin, pooling on his collarbone. He gulped back a foul taste in his mouth. Ryou seemed to just crumble against his dark in a manner he had not seen him do so in many years.
"Why now…" Yugi whispered. "We haven't had trouble with the Illuminate since our last year at school, why would they pop up again now?" Yugi raked a hand through his wet hair. Yami's arms around his middle tightened. He dropped his head back against the king's shoulder. There was a scar, thick and red, imprinted across the skin of his hip—a promise, the cruel man in a simple white mask had said, a promise to someday return and finish the job. Yami's hand had settled there, tracing the mark, and he could feel the rising panic emanating from the Puzzle. The air in the bathroom was growing thicker. Both the Dark's emotions feeding off each other. The walls groaned. Yugi squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lips. No matter how much he wanted to stay in the encompassing embrace of the growing shadows, to be safely surrounded by them, it was unhealthy. Yami and Bakura could not help themselves when their Lights where threatened and if Ryou was too panicked—then he had to be strong for them all.
He sucked in a deep breath.
"Right, well…" He snapped his head upright, forcing a beaming smile. "We're in Domino! One of the most fortified areas on this planet, we'll be fine! Right? Seto's totally improved things since high-school."
"Yes." Ryou's smile was somewhat weak, but a good attempt. "Yes, we'll be fine."
"Totally fine." Bakura muttered.
"You're not helping Bakura."
The two left, arguing back and forth. The bathroom door clipped shut. Yugi sagged. This was not the sort of news he had expected upon returning to Domino. He had wanted a holiday—he knew Yami needed a break. Why couldn't their lives just be simple—then again, would they even be able to cope with simple lives.
"The Illuminate, Yami…anyone but the Illuminate. I'd face Dratz again."
Yami's head burrowed into his shoulder. "Never say that, please. Never. You didn't go for months without the other-half of your soul. It was unbearable, Yugi. Death would have been fair kinder."
"Sorry." Yugi murmured. He remembered so little of the Leviathan Saga, and Yami so rarely spoke of it. In some small way, perhaps the Illuminate was his Leviathan, a point in time when he had almost been ripped away from Yami and could recall every second of it, but Yami was left without recollection. The table had been turned on them for once.
He should not have been surprised that such a group existed, really, considering the underground organizations he knew of due to his own work.
But an elite group of killers who hunted the supernatural—or anything they deemed to be supernatural—was horrifying to him. That they called themselves Illuminate was ironic, really, considering how many beings of the Light Dimension they had wiped out over the centuries. Yugi pressed a hand against Yami's, still firmly placed over the scar marring his hip. That day had been terrifying, bleeding out on the gym floor. He had honestly thought it was the one adventure that would kill him—and not just him, but Joey, Honda and Tea as well. If Ryou and Bakura hadn't been there to help, he was sure things would have turned out so differently.
"You're right…" he whispered. "I have changed." He looked back to the mirror. There wasn't a boy there any longer—there was a man.
"I told you so." Yami vanished in a swirl of shadows.
