Yami stared dubiously at the avalanche of get-well cards that had arrived in a steady stream, ever since the news broke that he was hospitalized. Daily, he was barraged with the kind wishes of nameless masses. It was an unexpected outpouring that cheered him considerably. He had also been given the long awaited report about the damage to his shattered leg. The screws that held the bones together would stay in for at least a few months, and he would be on crutches for a while. But there was no permanent damage done, and while the healing would be slow, it would come. Best of all, Yugi and Grandpa Moto had come in with the blessed, blessed news that he would be discharged tomorrow. It was highly likely that he would need some physical therapy to regain the full use of his body after such a trauma, but he would worry about that after being discharged. For now, his busted leg was usually propped up on a pillow. He was supposed to keep it as elevated as possible, and off of it as much as possible, even more so. When necessary, he tottered around on a crutch, wobbly and awkward as a newborn foal. It was even worse since he also had the fractured wrist to contend with. Being upright was an ordeal. Yami's pace of movement was a lurching, tedious balance of his crutch being thrust forward and maneuvering the rest of his body to follow. Unless he had to go to the bathroom, Yami seldom ventured from the hospital room.
The swelling of his face had gone down considerably, and the garish black and purple was slowly fading. Yami could gradually make out his familiar facial features emerging from the trauma. It was reassuring to gently touch his cheek and feel the bone under the flesh and not wince in agony at the sensation.
Yami had greeted Yugi with a bright smile each time he visited, and coddled him with even brighter reassurances that he was just fine. Yugi had been busy moving Yami's stuff downstairs, Grandpa Moto was busy with arranging the furniture to be a bit more accommodating. When Yami raised a questioning eyebrow about that, Yugi had given him a shrug and said that the old man needed to do something. Yami just nodded in loving tolerance, and told Yugi how much he looked forward to coming home, and that he was fine. He repeated it as if it were a prayer, or a mantra, but he could not internalize the words, nor make them real. The wreck had done massive damage to his flesh, he wore those scars, lest he needed reminding of how close he had been to not being there at all.
And that knowledge left him emerging from the nightmares in a trembling, torpid sweat. It was the fear and the pain of how close he had come to death that haunted him. It was a chokehold of anguish he could not loose, it was gnawing at his thoughts, and wreaking havoc on his already shot to hell nerves.
In the darkness of the quiet room, in the solitude of the sleep that sometimes never came, Yami found that he had been stripped of some fundamental assumptions. Never had he thought that he would come so close to dying. Never had he imagined that surviving such a thing would involve being so mentally scarred from it. Never, never had he imagined that he would have to grapple with a newfound emotion….hatred.
Seto Kaiba's name blistered against his lips, and left him nearly sick with loathing. Seeing the pathetic, broken wreck that Seto became as a result of his own guilt did nothing to negate what had happened. Yami still seethed at the gall Seto had in strolling into his hospital room, so invasive, and despised….
Yami, in his clearer moments, could barely choke back the shard of pity that his compassion infuriatingly invoked. Seto had been true to his word about paying for the hospital bills. The Motos didn't have to shell out one penny. The wrecked car had been replaced with a top of the line vehicle, paid for by Kaiba's funds. Grandpa Moto was dubiously torn about profiting from Yami's injuries, until Yami sensibly pointed out to the old man that they needed a car, and Seto owed them that much.
Most troubling of all, for Yami, anyway, was the knowledge that Seto's fate, far more than his own, would be forever defined by the one stupid mistake. It was an uneasy thing to grapple with. Yami still chafed with anger over his injuries, but that was somewhat assuaged by the disconcerting encounter with Seto.
Yami did not know how to react when the prosecutor had given him the news that Seto would be facing criminal charges. She also let him know that just because Seto was paying his hospital bills, it did not mean that the Motos were exempt from suing him, if they wanted. Yugi gave the curt suggestion that Yami feel free to clean out Seto's bank account, and send him to prison. Grandpa Moto had looked rather shocked by Yugi's uncharacteristic outburst, and then to Yami with sad compassion.
"Yami, Yugi. I know that this has been a horrible situation for all of us, but I think it best we focus on Yami getting better and moving on, not vengeance. I don't think that's a path that we need to go down."
Yugi bit his lip, but nodded, slowly as Yami mulled that over, as he glared down at his cast. Between the wreck, the days in the hospital, the meetings with the police and prosecutor, and holding his emotions in check, he felt scraped raw.
"Grandpa? Would you please go down to the gift shop and get me a journal? I …have a lot on my mind, with all of these legal proceedings, and I would prefer to write them down to keep them straight."
Grandpa Moto's forehead furrowed with that odd request, but after seeing Yami's silent plea, when he looked at Yugi, the old man huffed in paternal soothing as he ambled out of the room.
Yugi scowled in concern when his grandfather left, and then looked at Yami. Silently, he grabbed the chair, arranged it as close as he could to Yami's bedside, waiting.
"Seto came here last night." Yami admitted quietly as he crossed his arms and looked at Yugi, gauging the reaction.
Yugi held back the snarl for Yami's benefit, and Yami appreciatively pat his wrist. "I know that this situation hasn't been easy on you, Yugi, and I wouldn't be getting through this without you. I'm not telling you this because I want to make this more difficult for you: I am telling you this because I didn't want to keep anything from you."
Yugi closed his eyes at that, drew a long, shaking breath. "Yami, the first question you asked when you came out of the surgery and realized what had happened was if you hurt anybody. And then, you were grateful to find out that you didn't. Ever since this happened, you've been trying to protect me, and you don't have to. Yami, for once, let me be here for you, alright?"
Yami blinked back the sudden wet that rose to his eyes, and he smiled at Yugi in gratitude. "You've always been there for me, Yugi, in ways that you will never know. However, it is good to be reminded of that. Thank you."
The awkward, but comforting moment passed when Yugi reluctantly directed the conversation back to the surprise visit of Kaiba. "What did Seto want?"
Yami hitched his good shoulder in answer. "I honestly don't know what he wanted, Yugi. It was very odd. He apologized for what happened, and told me he was taking responsibility for it, whatever that might mean."
Yugi curled a lip as if he had eaten something unpleasant. "He was probably advised by the KaibaCorps publicity team to come down here and try to avoid damage to his image. That, or he was trying to dodge the legal action by pretending to give a rip when he volunteered to pay your medical bills…."
"Seto told me that he wasn't going to contest the charges, even if it meant that he was sentenced to prison, Yugi. The court papers have already been filed, and there was nothing in there about Seto disputing what happened, or plea bargaining, or avoiding anything."
Yugi raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You don't find this sudden interest in doing what's right to have odd timing? Since when the heck has Kaiba ever cared anything about who gets hurt by what he does, Yami? As for contesting the charges, there's nothing to contest. He would look like an absolute idiot if he stood up and said that he didn't do this to you."
Yami drummed his fingers against the bedrail. "Yugi, I honestly don't think that Seto intended for any of this to happen. He told me that he would gladly trade places with me if it meant that he could make this right."
"That doesn't matter, Yami. It still doesn't do anything about the fact that you're laying here, busted up in this hospital, on account of him."
Yami shifted uneasily, troubled by both his anger, and the image of Seto's tears.
"It may not do anything to change the fact that I am here, Yugi, but it does change my thoughts about how much he may deserve to incarcerated, and separated from Mokuba. Mokuba is innocent in this as well, and he is only a child."
Yugi's bitterness had yielded a bit, by then. As much as he wanted Seto to pay for Yami's wounds, he didn't relish the thought of Mokuba being apart from the only family that he had.
