Suicidal Pharaoh

Chapter 2

This chapter is dedicated to the following people

LuminousSpark

A Rose For Me A Rose For You

Aarins Rou

SRRH

PharaohYamiFan

Please note this has been beta'd and edited. Enjoy and don't forget to review.

Seto's Laptop has long since died, unable to monitor the young boy, and as a result he had been swept off the table and onto the other side of the room. Annoyed clearly wasn't the word to describe how the young CEO was feeling. Yami hand been given a short bath once he had woken and the blonde maid had left him in the bathroom alone, where had taken another chance to try and take his own life. Seto sighed; this was not a good day. The doctor had set his casts, and his leg would take about 6-8 weeks as would his wrist, his ribs would take 3-4 weeks depending on if he wasn't trying to do anything otherwise it would have been longer.

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I lay staring at the ceiling, as I had done for the past hour since Seto and the maid helped me bathe. At least I had a chance to try and end my miserable life until the maid came back and almost deafened me in the process, as well as the rest of the house. And as of course this alerted the all high and mighty bastard, who in return fired the maid finished bathing me before taking me back to my room, where the doctor who obviously thought being nice to me was going to stop me from pulling faces at him and the CEO next to me.

After 30 minutes of blabbering on, he finally left. Sighing, the moron had remembered to remove all sharp objects and had locked the windows… so that left hanging myself and suffocation. Thinking that both would take too long, I settled for waiting until I could walk again and was allowed out. That way, he couldn't stop me. Ha. At least the arsehole that did me in wasn't living in this mansion, otherwise he would be dead. Either that, or locked away in the darkest nether-regions of the shadow realm.

I wasn't fussy about which. That would give something for Yugi to cry over, the little wimp that he was. Thinking of the many ways to torture the little shit was the only thing keeping me sane while I was locked up like this. I suppose it's a good thing that Bakura was . . . only Ra knows where. Otherwise I think he may of ended up worse, me and Bakura go way back, and don't ask, it's a little further back than you think. Try 3000 years. This may as well be 3000 things the pharaoh needed to do in the future, one of them was get battered by the person you thought was your friend, the one you taught to duel, the one who you risked your life on countless occasions' from Marik.

It just proves how foolish I was to trust him. Well there's nothing to do, and since its dark, I'm presuming the storm has hit this area. From the lashing rain against the window it's not very good to be trapped out in that. You can even hear the wind howling as well. It's not that nice. Well obviously stuck here with nothing to do, I might as well sleep. Or so I thought… after trying for at least 15 minutes, I gave up and settled for staring out the window at the darkness illuminated by the whispers of moonlight through the dark set blankets of clouds.

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I've decided that I have to go and check on him; otherwise I feel it will be my fault if he commits suicide. Sighing as I rose up from the chair. The kitchen ran on two generators, just in case of a situation like this. It meant that the house was able to have more then tinned food. Deciding that he must at least be hungry now, I headed to the kitchen to make him some soup, since it was probably the only thing I could make without blowing the kitchen up.

Apparently having an IQ of 184 means I should mean I know how to use an oven without blowing things up. I don't remember signing that part of the genius contract. Heading up the stairs, with a candle and a bowl of the soup the corridor seemed abandoned without the dimly lit lights. Opening the only door on the floor which wasn't mine, the street lights shone through the window to reveal Yami sat up and staring out the window. His eyes were distant and his expression was that of concentration. I sighed and knocked, not waiting for him to ask me to enter.

"Why?" he asked me. His eyes had bags underneath which to me he had been trying to sleep but couldn't. The moonlight made eyes give off the twinkling, though an emotional ass like me shouldn't have noticed. The rain had lightened and was no longer lashing against the window, but still quite heavy.

"Is it for your own selfish reasons?" he asked. His voice was hollow, completely void of the usual determination that it usually had, and even through candle light I could see that his hair had lost the brightness it once had. His face had become pale and malnourished, and the crimson eyes that always challenged me had been beaten to submission. He was a shell of his former self, and strangely I missed it.

"No," I replied. I wasn't doing this for me, but from him. When he was a pharaoh he never had happiness or it came last. This time he needs to forget about others and concentrate on himself. Though I am not the type of person to say that, maybe I can get Mokuba to talk to him and then I may get some answers.

"Then why are you doing this?" He almost wailed. I never thought I would see him so broken like this, at all. He slammed his fist down on the windowsill; he had every right to be angry. After all, I stopped him from committing suicide. He must have been desperate.

"Because, stop living for someone else. The first reason you were put on this earth may have been to save it, but the second reason was to make yourself happy, as a pharaoh you never had happiness you were too busy making everyone else happy. So may be you are still here to find happiness." Well at least I go that off my chest.

"And what happens if I want to find happiness in death? Did you ever think of that?" He almost yelled at me. Tears had stained his sick cheeks and dripped onto the bedding below.

"Just because Wheeler beat you up and Yugi abandoned you, it doesn't mean you have to wallow in self-pity. Your world can't be so small that those two morons are the centre of it. I'm pretty sure Mokuba told you on many occasions that you are welcome in our home," I replied.

I knew it was Wheeler that did this to him and what it meant. They no longer wanted him after all they had gotten what they wanted out of him, so why bother keeping him anymore? It was something I would have done . . . but was I ever this harsh?

Placing the soup down on the bedside table, I sat on the edge of the bed. I probably should have just left the soup and walked away, but something inside me made me want to stay. Mokuba called it 'compassion' or something. I didn't like it. But at that moment, he needed someone to pull him together and because I had made this my situation too, I made myself the person to do it. He was an emotional wreck; even I would be after what he has been through. I made him turn his gaze from the miserable world outside and face me instead. Then, throwing the duvet back, I did something even Mokuba would have been surprised at. I pulled him into my lap.

Though tense at first, his muscles eased and he placed his head at the crook of my neck. Leaning forward I kicked off the boots and trench coat, to pull the duvet over the top of us for the night, since Mokuba had long retired to his room. My culinary masterpiece was long forgotten.

"Seto, will you always be here?" he asked, gazing up at me shyly.
I nodded.

"As long as you are willing to depend on me and Mokuba and you stop trying to commit suicide, we will always be here."

"Yeah" he whispered before I leaned back and lay together.
Tomorrow would bring new things and hopefully a happier ex-pharaoh.

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