When
Angels Cry 4- Medicinal Touch
Disclaimer:Yu-Gi-Oh and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. The only thing I own is the AU and the angel legends.
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Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do.
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Rated for bloody descriptions of battle, torture and later limes. (You know I can't resist!)
And if my beta has her way, probably a lemon or two as well... --;
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Dedicated to my reviewers!
Minasantaria
Nusku
inuyashagirl818
Cavialover
lynnwoo
Shadow Cat17
Still no responses to my last question... Bronzeshipping's definite, so I'm not changin' that! Any ideas for other pairings you guys would like to see? Yes, Yugi is going to come in later (bonus points if you guess how! Bonus points can be used to... iunno... you can trade them in for an early preview of the next chappy! Or you could request a oneshot... Yes... either/or! First in, best-dressed:P)
I'd like to see who you guys reckon Dartz should be paired with... I'd love a chance to write a little romance in for the guy. Anyways, this is a bit of a fluffy chapter, (cause I got sick of all the darn angst!) but first you're going to have to deal with graphic descriptions of Bakura's wounds.
Hope you all enjoy- please leave a review :D
Ireina
"Anyone here?!" yelled Marik, kicking the door open and putting Atemu down.
"Never… ever… again." Atemu said shakily.
"Shut up. Anyone?"
A blue haired man fluttered around a corner. "Marik?" he asked, shock written across his features. "What in God's name happened?" His gold eyes immediately went to the spot Bakura's wings would have sat- had they still been visible to Atemu's sight. "By God! Quick, bring him in and put him onto his bed." He looked around at Atemu, eyes lighting upon something it seemed only he could see. "I would have preferred to meet you again in happier circumstances. Hello Atemu."
"Who… are you? And don't call me that." Atemu said. He was sure that he'd seen that man with the blue-tinted wings before.
"It is unsurprising you don't remember me. You were no older than three or perhaps four when I last met you. I am Dartz. And why wouldn't I call you by your name?"
"I just… don't like being called that." The angel raised a slender blue brow, knowledge and understanding sparking in his eyes.
"If that is your wish, Yami. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a friend to save." And with a swish of his white robe he followed the path Marik had taken with Bakura.
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Atemu followed to see a shirtless Bakura lying face down on the bed- and he gasped feeling sick to the stomach at the stench of infection.
Across the angel's back were so many obviously deep stripes that there was hardly any skin left. Several were festering a terrible yellow-green colour mixed with the deep brown red of dried blood. That wasn't even the worst of it- into his back had been carved an ornate Celtic cross- and the cross was so badly infected the blood oozing from the wound was near to black. (The cross, however had not been the doing of the angels, that was part of what had been done to Bakura before he had died, though the Tears had split the old scar open.)
Several stained bandages lay on the floor, and Dartz was in the middle of removing yet more, Marik using his whole body to hold Bakura down as the hurt angel used all his not inconsiderable strength to try and throw them away from him, yelling "No! Stop it! Please!"
Marik cursed. "Where're Malik and Ryou when you need 'em?! Oi, brat! Don't just stand there, come here and help."
Atemu nodded, face pale and he darted forward and grabbed Bakura's left arm. The winged man whipped his head around and angry and agonised red eyes darted to his own.
"It's all right, Bakura! Stop thrashing around, you're going to hurt someone!" Atemu exclaimed, gripping said male's arm all the tighter.
Bakura's eyes appeared to calm, showing a spark of recognition. His wild movements slowed slightly.
"Atemu…?" he said in a voice hoarse from yelling.
"Yes. Please let Dartz get rid of that last set of bandages. It'll be over faster if you cooperate."
With an expression of complete trust that stabbed Atemu with a deep feeling of guilt and, oddly enough, shame, he nodded slowly and lay quietly back down, his only response now to the excruciating pain being silent tears
Marik shot Dartz a look that went unnoticed by Atemu, before the fallen angel released his comrade. "Here." he said, handing Atemu a crystal vial from his pocket.
"What's this for?"
"Angel's tears have a property that makes them heal all manner of ills. Seems a pity them going to waste."
Atemu shook his head and handed the crystal thing back. "No." he said simply. "He needs comforting, not someone catching his tears in a bottle." he finished, shooting a sharp glare at the fallen angel.
Marik gave a hidden smile, tucking the tiny thing in his pocket, nodding to Dartz. The test had worked.
"Medicine is not my area of expertise- I can heal but that's about it, my area of specialty was craftwork." he said cryptically, and Atemu wanted to ask what crafting angels did, but kept silent. "I will have to get Ryou- he used to be always dabbling in that sort of thing."
"Do you know if Malik might be with him also?" asked Marik casually.
"It is likely. Would you like me to bring him with us?" Dartz asked shrewdly.
"If he wants to come… It might be helpful to have a third mind to help- he's on a battlefield most of the day, he must surely have picked up something along the way."
Dartz smirked. "I shall be right back." With that, the blue-winged angel left. Marik sighed.
"I'll have to go and get fresh bandages. Don't upset him, kid." he warned, leaving the two alone in the room.
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Atemu shifted, about to move into the seat that for some reason had been placed beside the bed, but Bakura grabbed his arm. "Don't… go…"
The teen tugged his arm in a weak attempt at getting free of the angel's strong grip.
"I'm just going to sit in the chair." he argued. Bakura's grip just tightened.
"Please… I know you… hate me… but… please… stay… The voice quiets… Tears… lose power…"
Cobbling together the words, Atemu realised that the angel was labouring under the mistaken assumption that he hated him. He didn't understand what Bakura meant about the Tears losing power, but decided to dismiss it as more of the injured male's fevered babbling. He sighed.
"I don't hate you. I'm just angry with you." he corrected.
"Stay."
It would really be much easier just to give in to Bakura's request, and he wasn't up to fighting him over it. Besides, it was not such a terrible ask.
"Fine, I won't move." he said, shaking his head in the affectionate way that a parent might shake their head at a precocious child. Bakura gave him a tiny smile, closing his eyes. Atemu felt his lips twitch into a returning smile, brushing damp locks of white hair from the angel's angular face.
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Soon Bakura was breathing evenly; hand still around Atemu's slender wrist. Atemu gently moved his grip to his own caramel-hued hand so as to be somewhat more comfortable.
When he was sure Bakura was asleep, he said; "I don't know what happened to you… but I'm starting to think that maybe you had a reason for not returning earlier…" He trailed off.
Carefully, he reached out his long-fingered hand and hesitantly ran it through the long white hair of the sleeping winged male, whom only shifted marginally closer to him. "Bakura, I'm s…"
"Bakura! God, Son and Holy Spirit!"
"It's worse than I had feared. You mentioned the Tears, but you didn't mention that it had taken hold this quickly!"
A slightly tamer and more delicate-looking version of Bakura with doe-brown eyes and emerald green tinged wings entered, followed by a male the very image of Marik, except with tamer hair, pale lavender eyes, and tawny gold wings. (The latter male had been the one to exclaim; "Bakura! God, Son and Holy Spirit!")
The sleeping man shifted slightly, a small frown forming as he pulled Atemu down to him, to a cry of surprise from said teen as the feverish angel wrapped an arm around his waist to another yelp.
"Get him off me!" the boy gasped, trying to push his arm away from him.
Marik came back in, bearing a load of bandages and odds and ends of material, and sniggered, while the other two stifled giggles. Dartz rolled his eyes with a quirk of the lip that could have been interpreted as being a smile, before carefully using his own angelic strength to pry Bakura's arms from Atemu's slim waist. Gratefully, Atemu moved away from the angel's body.
"Who are you two?" he asked curiously.
"I am Ryou and this is Malik." said the white-haired man who looked similar to the other angel currently tossing in sleep on the bed. "And you must be this Atemu that Bakura used to worry so about."
Malik just looked at Atemu with dislike clearly written upon his features. Atemu wondered for a moment what he'd done to cause such animosity- he'd never met the golden-winged man before at all. He quickly dismissed it- for the moment he needed to pay attention to what they were doing to the horrifically injured angel.
"We'll have to wake him up and get him to lift the glamour on his wings- if his back is this bad; I shudder to think what the place the Tear impacted looks like." Ryou continued grimly, ignoring the silent exchange between his friend and the younger mortal, with his fingers hovering gingerly just above the grievous wounds.
Gently Dartz shook Bakura's shoulder lightly and said, "Wake up, Bakura." The pale man shifted, before his eyelids fluttered open.
"Nng… Demons! Don't let… them get… Atemu!" he yelled, bolting upright. "Where… Atemu… voices…"
"I'm here. Shh." Atemu said, lightly touching a small patch of un-marked white skin on his shoulder. Haunted red-brown eyes were raised to his and the teen had to hold back his anger at whoever had put that look into those once proud eyes.
"Bakura, we need you to try and lift the glamour on your wings so we can help you feel better." Ryou said gently. "Do you think you could do that for us?"
Still staring at Atemu, he nodded, closing his eyes a brief minute before Atemu nearly fainted in shock. The once pure white wings were now mostly black, with only some scattered feathers still white. Feathers were missing; some were loose giving a tattered appearance to the winged appendages. What really gave Atemu a shock was the apparent weakness of the wings- they could barely move and the muscles had obviously shrunk to barely enough to keep them up off the floor. They were covered in wounds as keep and varied as the ones on his back and all of those were now festering.
Even the three angels and the Fallen One gave a gasp of shock.
"I need your help, Atemu." Ryou said directly, staring at him.
"I can help. There's no need for him to…" Malik started hotly, glaring venomously at Atemu.
"Let him help Malik." Dartz said, understanding what Ryou was playing at. The greenish-winged angel handed the dark-skinned teen a cloth and pointed to the bowl of warm water that had appeared from seemingly nowhere.
"You can clean his left wing. Malik, I'll need you to collect more herbs and things from my rooms- I'll need more equipment and stocks than what I've brought with me." Ryou ordered, obviously accustomed to taking charge in situations like this. "I'll clean his right wing and Dartz, you clean his back. Marik, we're going to need a heck of a lot more bandages and cloth than you've brought me. Can you burn those used ones? They're not safe to re-use, and I wouldn't trust them even after being boiled in hellfire!"
Malik and Marik nodded, both pale under the dark skin trademark of a person of Egyptian descent as they left.
Atemu dipped the cloth into the lightly steaming water. Wordlessly Bakura watched as Atemu dabbed hesitantly at a wound.
"It's not going to get cleaned if you just pat at it." Ryou chastised.
"Won't that hurt him?"
"Put it this way, if it's not cleaned properly, he'll be hurt even more." Dartz told him, hand with the rag moving with firm, sure strokes over the wounds in Bakura's back.
"Just do… it… Atemu."
The teen drew a deep breath, and with Bakura's permission given, he began to clean the wounds properly, face pale under his sun-kissed skin. Soon the wounds on his wing were all clean, ruby red blood beading on the black feathers (or sometimes a white one)
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Malik returned with a largish leather case in one hand. "I hope what you need's in here Ryou, 'cause the Archangel's goons were sniffing around looking for you, and they looked suspicious so I dared not search much further than grabbing this."
"Ah, thank you. Could you three come with me? I need to get several different salves and a few other things going at once."
"Can I help?" asked Atemu.
"We need someone to keep an eye on Bakura." Ryou said apologetically.
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After a few minutes' silence, the younger mortal spoke. "Your wings…" he said awkwardly. Bakura looked silently up at him, waiting for him to clarify.
"What… happened?" he asked, taking the plunge.
"So now you… want to… know…" Bakura said scathingly. "Screw… protective instincts… should've let demons…" he muttered under his breath.
Atemu bristled. "I was angry Bakura. I still am."
"You… can see… my… wings… You knew…" the angel accused.
"No, I didn't! I couldn't see them, Bakura. I don't know why, or what went wrong, but I couldn't see them until you removed your glamour!" Atemu cried. "I don't understand Bakura! What happened to you?" he whispered. "Who could have done such a thing to anyone, much less an angel?"
Delicately he reached out his fingers and ran them just above the arch of his wing, down to where feathers flowed into skin, resting them at the join, to a shiver from the winged man.
"The voice… from the Tears… is quiet… when… you… are in contact… with me." he said softly.
"I wonder why." Atemu mused, lifting his hand.
Bakura spun around and grabbed his hand. "Don't stop. I… don't like… not knowing… what's… going on around me… or spouting nonsense…"
"Bakura…" Atemu trailed off. The white-haired angel with the black-tainted wings was giving him a desperate look, red-brown eyes pleading. He sighed and lifted his other hand. Hesitantly he reached towards Bakura's face but paused before trying to gather himself.
"You had…more courage… as a child. You… started patting my…wings… without…permission, even though I was… a stranger."
With that, his fingers finally closed the distance and rested lightly upon Bakura's slightly fevered skin. The angel closed his eyes with a tiny sad smile.
Encouraged, he pushed Bakura's long white hair behind his ears before tracing his jawline and along his angular cheekbones.
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Bakura was feeling really guilty. 'Atemu… I missed him.' he admitted. 'And… I shouldn't be enjoying this…God, I'm old… enough to be his… ten times great… grandfather!'
He had enjoyed the boy's touch when he'd stroked his wings the first time, but not in this way! Before it had been completely innocent. Now…
He felt the tips of Atemu's forefinger trace the outline of his lips before it rested lightly on his lower lip. His tongue darted out to dampen suddenly dry lips, accidentally brushing the other male's finger.
Atemu started, pulling his hand back. "Sorry." Bakura apologised automatically.
"It's fine." This time he just picked up Bakura's slender white hand, tracing imaginary patterns on it with caramel coloured fingers. "You're so white."
"I was once as dark-skinned as you, if not darker."
"That's hard to believe."
"When my body was re-made, this was how it re-formed."
"Re-made?" questioned Atemu as he paused in his movements, looking up slightly to the other's eyes.
"My mortal body was… damaged one might say." Bakura said with a wry twist of his lips.
"Can I ask… how?"
"No." the angel said shortly, looking away. "You may not. I do not wish to re-visit it- especially with the memory of the past seven years still fresh in my mind."
The younger male looked down. "That was insensitive of me. If it required your body to be re-formed, whatever did it must have been painful." he said softly, resuming his soothing tracing over Bakura's palm.
"Yami, you have seen nothing of pain."
Atemu started. "Yami?"
"Isn't that what you prefer now? After all, you said you didn't want me to call you Atemu."
"It just… sounds strange coming from you." he admitted.
"I will call you whatever you wish."
"I don't know, Bakura…" he said, dropping Bakura's slender hand and automatically clutching the necklace around his neck for solace in his confusion. How could he tell the angel why he didn't want to be called by his preferred name when it was partly because of him?
Bakura hesitantly reached towards the hand around the gold chain. "Look at me."
The dark-skinned teen slowly lifted his magenta eyes to Bakura's red-brown orbs.
"You kept them." the white-haired angel said softly. Atemu reluctantly released his grip on the cross and feather. "All those years…" he continued, tracing the etchings on the cross with his fingertip. "… and you're still wearing them."
"Of course." Atemu replied quietly. "Thought it's mostly just habit now."
Softly Bakura traced the white feather no longer than his smallest finger suspended beside the cross, accidentally pressing it against the other, the feather illuminating as he made contact with it. Atemu closed his eyes.
"That tickles." he protested.
"My apologies." Bakura replied softly, lifting his finger, re-settling his hand on Atemu's instead, lacing his white fingers with the darker ones belonging to the younger male.
"Don't worry. It's ok." There was a comfortable silence for a minute or so. "Bakura, I'm…"
"Sorry we took so long!" trilled Malik's overly cheerful voice.
"This genius over here decided he'd try and 'help', even thought he barely knows belladonna from comfrey." Marik said, gesturing with his head to a slightly put-out Dartz.
"I told you that medicine's not my forte." Dartz pointed out. "You were the idiots who made me help."
"Yes, well. We're finished now, so both of you stop arguing." Ryou scolded.
"Hey…" Malik said suddenly, staring at Atemu and Bakura.
"What?"
"Why are you two… holding hands?"
"Because for some strange reason my touch keeps the 'Voice' in the 'Tears' or
whatever they are from making Bakura a nut-case."
Bakura stayed silent, looking down and Ryou and Dartz (being rather perceptive souls) noted this.
"Makes sense. It could have something to do with why he could see Bakura's wings."
"You do realise he saw my wings as well?" Dartz said quietly, still looking into Atemu's face with piercing gold eyes. He closed them for a minute, and then re-opened them. "Can you still see my wings?" he questioned, staring intently at the teen's face.
Atemu tilted his head to the side. The huge blue-silver appendages hadn't gone anywhere. "Aren't I supposed to?"
"Just tell me. Do you still see them?"
"Yes. Why?"
"I just placed a glamour over them. No one but another Higher Being should have been able to see that- not even a Satanspawn would have been able to see them."
"But he couldn't see Bakura's wings before, so why yours? Besides which, why can he see through it if Satanspawn can't? He's definitely no Higher Being." Malik asked, frowning.
"Exactly what I was wondering, Malik. Exactly what I was wondering."
"No matter. I shall begin to apply this to your wings, and back, Akefia. It may hurt a tad. I only hope that this works. Atemu, stay in contact with him please. I don't want a semi-crazed Bakura on my hands."
"I wasn't that bad before." Bakura muttered.
"You couldn't string together a coherent sentence Bakura." Dartz said dryly.
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Bakura lay on his stomach, wings and back covered in bandages, Atemu being the only other living creature in the room, though he had fallen asleep. The younger male had originally been sitting beside him on the edge of the bed; hand twined with Bakura's own, but now lay half-on, half-off the bed.
Bakura half-turned his head with a small half-smile, before pulling him (with a wince at the strain on the wounds) properly onto the bed so he would not fall off.
"I wonder what you were going to say before they interrupted." he said softly, before drifting back into sleep.
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Atemu woke to an expanse of whiteness surrounding him. Disoriented, he brushed his fingertips over the closest surface. This was familiar somehow…
He felt a warm presence at his back and he slightly rolled and saw a beatific cat-like face. The eyes were closed in sleep, but the white strands of hair gliding across the other male's cheek gave away his identity.
He then realised that the whiteness was the bandages that were wrapped tightly around the angel's injured and darkened wings.
Atemu sighed. "What happened to you?" he again asked softly. The non-responsive angel frowned slightly, and his arm snaked around Atemu's waist and pulled the dark-skinned teen tightly to him. Atemu's hands lay flat against Bakura's chest, and he half-heartedly tried to push away from the angel, but his grip was too strong, even fast asleep as he was.
Awkwardly he shifted in Bakura's grip, somewhat flustered at the strange and new sensations that seemed to originate from the close and strangely intimate position he held against the warmth of the angel's body.
Then it connected.
When he was young, before the accident, he had always insisted on white blankets. He had said it made him feel properly safe. It was the only thing he had the courage to ask for from his new adoptive parents…
Now he knew why.
Before even the accident, when he had first met Bakura when he'd been a mere toddler he had vague memories of falling asleep in the cool spring sunshine, safe and shielded beneath the older angel's white wings, spread protectively over his small form.
Atemu gave a small smile. Since then he had been unable to find something that gave him anything like that feeling of safety. In Bakura's arms now, he was re-discovering what it was like to be safe. He could even pretend that he was loved.
Bakura's arms had tightened while Atemu was taking his little stroll down Memory Lane, and his face was not an inch from Atemu's own.
He must have made some from of noise when he discovered this, for Bakura's eyes snapped open, eyes blazing red. "Bakura, it's me!" Atemu exclaimed. The angel's face relaxed and his eyes returned to their usual red-brown state.
"Atemu?! What are you doing here? You shouldn't be… sleeping next to me."
"I wasn't when I went to sleep! You put your arms around me." Atemu said indignantly.
"Oh." Bakura said, not removing his arms from their place around Atemu's slender waist. A few seconds later, still in direct eye-contact with the angel, Atemu said; "Aren't you going to let me go now?"
"Do you want me to?"
Atemu thought a minute. It was likely he probably shouldn't be so physically close to the other male- what would the others think? Not to mention the angel was God-only-knew how old. There'd have to be a gigantic age difference, but at least Bakura would have had years of experience…
'Years of experience with what? God, what on Earth am I thinking? Experience doesn't matter, it's not like I want him or anything…' he thought, embarrassed at the previous train of thought running through his head. His eyes widened a fraction. 'Oh damn…' That couldn't be…
The angel looked at him solemnly. "I think I should let you go." he said. "I… apologise." he said stiffly, making as though to release Atemu.
Thinking fast, Atemu recognised the ring of some form of negative emotion in Bakura's voice (It couldn't be… hurt) and made a quick decision.
"You don't have to… It's fine. I… don't mind."
Bakura blinked. "Aren't you mad at me?" he inquired.
"Yes, but I…" The younger male paused. "I'm quite comfortable here, thank you." he finished with a light tone of voice.
Bakura raised an eyebrow.
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The sandy-blonde man with ebony wings strode through the mountainous forest, grumbling under his breath. "Why Malik wanted to see me way out here of all places… He only just made it back to the Heavenly Realm yesterday, and what, he's already bored of it?" After all, the tenshi couldn't have missed him.
He was somewhat vexed, as under the forest's canopy he had barely room to move his large black wings, let alone fly and as a result, he was beginning to feel somewhat claustrophobic. Not to mention that it was a rather long walk without the benefits of flight.
Soon the endless green of the forest ended and light became visible, and soon enough he stood at the edge of a slightly slanted cliff face.
Beneath the cliff, he noted absently, lay a small but fast-flowing river wending its way through the forest below. And standing there with his back to the fallen angel was a familiar figure with golden wings, sandy hair fluttering in the light breeze.
"Malik? Why on Earth did you want to see me all the way out here? And so soon after your return home too?"
The other winged man turned, and Marik saw the cuts and bruises that marred his body, and he narrowed his dark lilac eyes. Surely all of those couldn't be from the battlefield! "Something's going on Marik. Something big. As soon as I returned, I was immediately asked where I'd gone, what I'd done, who I'd seen and the like." He took a deep breath. "I wanted to meet you here because it's one of the few places that aren't being monitored by either the Archangel or any… others." he finished delicately.
"What?"
"Marik, I came to warn you. Someone high up purposely released demons- shape-shifting ones into the Mortal Realm. And… that same person has access to the Library of Recorded History. Books have been disappearing…"
"I thought you were a warrior-angel?" Marik interrupted.
"I have friends, and certain books are missing. Books with very worrying titles. Marik, one of them is the Tome that records the history of the few Fallen ones."
Marik gave a blank look. He didn't understand what the tenshi was saying.
"So?" It didn't matter about some books going missing. They were only books after all.
"You don't understand, Marik! I think they're going after you- and I also think they're the ones that framed Bakura and got him into trouble with the Council!" Malik exclaimed. "They've already destroyed him- you saw what they did to him and he's one of the most powerful angels I've seen since I became a Higher Being!" Malik snapped. He turned back to face the edge of the cliff. "Oh I don't know why I bothered." he muttered irritably.
"Why do you care if they come for me, tenshi? I'm a Fallen One for a reason, and I fell from grace long before you ascended. Why would a Heaven-bound angel care if I- a Fallen one is targeted hm?" Marik questioned, honestly curious. It was quite beyond him why this heavenly creature would care what happened to a tainted thing like him.
"Oh never-mind!" Malik stormed, throwing himself into the air with violent beats of his wings.
Marik thought he heard the angel mutter something like; "You're completely oblivious." but he must have been mistaken. Angels didn't care one whit for Fallen angels. It was a fact of life. Fallen angels were too dark for Heaven, but not dark enough for Hell. No matter how much it might be wished for, angels just didn't consider their darker counterparts as anything other than something evil to be avoided…
It was really rather a pity- the gold-winged spitfire of a tenshi was gorgeous.
Yep, Bronzeshipping ain't goin nowhere! xP
Requests for pairings can be either PM'ed to me or... left in all the reviews I know you nice people are going to leave for me!
Anyways, hope you all enjoyed and...
SMILE :D
Ireina