"Okay," Joey said in vague irritation as he looked at the spot where the veiled stranger had been, "that was kinda freaky."
"But we know that that man always seems to know what's going on!" Bakura exclaimed. "Come on! We have to get back to the city!!"
Yugi agreed firmly. "If our friends are in trouble, then we've gotta help them!"
"Oh, by the way, Bakura, where's your Yami?" Tristan asked as they ran back up the beaten path.
Bakura sighed. "I'm afraid he's back home impersonating me."
"And you're just lettin' him get away with that?!" Joey said in shock.
"Oh . . . how can I stop him?" Bakura said with a brief shrug. "Besides, I suppose he is only trying to get to the bottom of things with Frances. . . ."
Yugi smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure everything will be alright," he replied as a light snow began to fall.
****
Yami Bakura, meanwhile, was becoming rather frustrated with the results of his investigation. Frances was definitely not willing to divulge any hints—if she was Franceska in disguise. And the old thief couldn't figure her out at all. He hadn't sensed anything dark about her since the first evening she'd been there, and yet . . . he didn't suddenly sense that she was a saint, either. It was more of a feeling of . . . nothing, he realized. He was sensing nothing from her.
"Oh, Bakura, I think I'll get some more mashed potatoes," Mr. Ryou said abruptly, breaking into the thief's train of thought. As it happened, they were not at home, but at an all-night all-you-can-eat restaurant.
"That's fine," Yami Bakura smiled in his best Bakura imitation. It was hard to remember not to slurp his soup and not to ravenously tear into the very rare steak he was eating, but when posing as Bakura, one must do as Bakura, he thought. In fact, he realized, it wasn't likely Bakura would ever get a rare steak. He just hoped that Mr. Ryou was too love-struck to notice.
Oreo purred from her hidden spot under the table. There hadn't been any use in trying to keep her at home, especially when she heard of where they were going. Now she whipped her tail around Yami Bakura's ankles and bit into the meat loaf she had insisted on having.
Frances smiled strangely at Yami Bakura once Mr. Ryou had left. "Such a curious line-up of food tonight, Bakura," she remarked, and instantly the thief was on guard.
"Oh?" he said nonchalantly.
"Yes," Frances nodded. "Meat, meat, and more meat. I don't think I've ever before seen you eat that much beef, pork, chicken, and what have you."
Yami Bakura gave a Bakuraish laugh. "Well . . . I suppose I was just extremely hungry tonight. I didn't get a chance to eat anything during lunch at school. I was . . . catching up on my English homework."
"Well . . . that sounds like you," Frances said in amusement. "Always worried about your schoolwork."
Yami Bakura tried to blush the way he thought Bakura would, but to his annoyance he couldn't pull that one off. So he simply scratched his cheek and then looked back down at his plate.
"You're good at this, Yami Bakura," Frances said in that same amused tone just as Mr. Ryou was returning.
The tomb robber's head shot up and he stared at her, but with Bakura's father sitting back down, Yami Bakura knew he wouldn't be able to find out what was going on just yet. But whether or not this was Franceska, she obviously knew his true identity. And he had a feeling that it wasn't because of the meat.
****
Téa had looked everywhere for Mokuba in vain. By now she was so distressed that she was heading for the Kaiba Manor to see if possibly Seto had gone back there to do more planning on how to get Mokuba back.
Velma answered the door when Téa knocked. "Oh, come on in," the maid said in an occupied tone of voice. "Sorry I can't stay and chat, but I've gotta find Janine's boys! Oh that Brandon and that Taylor!"
Téa blinked. "Is Kaiba here?" she asked.
"Uh huh," Velma replied. "He just got back with Mokuba. Gotta run now!" And with that, she had, indeed, run off.
"Mokuba's back?!" Téa exclaimed in both confusion and relief.
"You could say that," Seto said coldly as he came up from behind her. "Physically, he's back."
Téa jumped a mile. "What do you mean by that, Kaiba?!" she demanded.
"He's in one of his 'independent' moods," Seto informed her. "But this is about the worst I've seen him. He slapped Marik."
"What??!" The girl couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"I don't know much more than that," Seto said. "He won't talk to me and as soon as we got back, he went up to his room."
Téa blinked. "You . . . you don't think that . . ."
"That maybe something was done to him by Del Vinci?" Seto finished for her. "The thought has crossed my mind. Except Mokuba has been acting somewhat this way since before Thanksgiving. But that doesn't mean that Del Vinci couldn't have done something to intensify it. And if he has, I swear I'll find out."
Abruptly the phone rang and Seto snatched it up in irritation. Téa watched him as he spoke, remembering how furious he had been when he had talked to Del Vinci. When he had then tried to find Mr. Thorton to talk to him again, the man hadn't been in his office. Neither Seto or Téa had been able to locate him since. Téa wondered who Seto was talking to now.
"No, he isn't here," Seto grunted. "I don't know the details, but after what Mokuba must've said and done, I doubt seriously that he would show up here." There was a pause. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry."
Téa hadn't known that Seto would apologize to anyone.
"I really don't think I'll see him. But I'm sure he's fine." With that Seto said talked a bit more before saying goodbye and hanging up.
"Well?!" Téa exclaimed.
"Well what?" Seto grunted.
"Who was on the phone?!" Téa cried.
"Not that it's any of your business, but it was Ishizu," Seto said. "Marik isn't home yet and she's concerned. Rishid was seriously hurt earlier today and Ishizu knew that Marik had wanted to get back to him as soon as he could."
Téa gasped. "What happened to Rishid?!"
"She said it was a poison dart," Seto told her.
Téa was horrified. "I'm going to find Marik," she declared, opening the door and running out. "He must be feeling terrible after all this!"
"You do that," Seto nodded. He glanced up toward Mokuba's room upstairs with a sigh. His brother wouldn't be coming out any time soon, he knew, and perhaps . . . perhaps he owed Marik something for helping to look. "I'll come with you."
Téa was momentarily startled, but Seto gave her no time to question him. After speaking to Anna, he went outside and got in the limousine. Téa quickly followed.
****
Marik cried out as his motorcycle ran over a patch of ice and swerved, dumping him into the snow covering Domino City Park. After a moment of laying somewhat stunned, the teenager slowly sat up and surveyed himself hesitantly, trying to see what damage had been done. But he found no injuries, to his surprise.
Moodily he sat down on a nearby park bench after clearing it of the snow that had fallen on it from the large pine tree above. He wanted to get back home to Rishid, he knew as he removed his helmet again, but maybe he would just take a moment or two to try digesting everything that was going on. Everything was coming at him so fast he barely knew what to do about any of it.
He stared into the drifting snowflakes, remembering how he would complain about how cold they were. Rishid had laughed and said that he lived with it. Marik replied that he did, too, but that that didn't make him like it any better. Then Mokuba had playfully hit him with a snowball. It wasn't like the way it was when Brandon and Taylor threw snow. Marik had known Mokuba was only kidding around. But it seemed to him that Brandon and Taylor truly hated him, and he couldn't understand what he ever done.
"Why can't things be the way they were?" Marik whispered, thinking of Rishid laying so still after being struck down. Of Mokuba slapping him harshly when all he had wanted was to help him. And of whoever was out for his blood. Had it been one of the ex-Rare Hunters, as Duke had suggested before Marik had left to look for Mokuba? "They almost took Rishid instead!" the boy cried aloud. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew his brother wasn't out of danger yet.
Unseen by him were Brandon and Taylor themselves. They had been all over the city with their Grim Reaper act and now found it delightful to encounter the "girly-boy." Grinning to each other, they took a few things from their robes and threw them roughly.
Instantly Marik was startled out of his saddened reverie. A turnip connected with his arm and he just stared in silence as the vegetable fell to the snowy ground, along with a radish and a snowball that had caught him in the forehead and felt strangely hard. Slowly he raised his eyes to look at the two little boys in shock.
Brandon and Taylor had been laughing at their little joke, but when they saw the wounded look in Marik's eyes they were immediately sobered.
"Hey," Taylor tried to say, "Girly-boy . . . we didn't mean nothin'! We were just having fun! What's the matter with you?!"
Marik slowly bent to the ground and picked the turnip up, turning it over and over in his hands. Brandon and Taylor just gawked, wondering if he was going to throw it back at them. At last the Egyptian boy dropped the vegetable back down and turned to the sidewalk, hanging his head. Without a word, he wandered back out into the snowy night.
"Marik!!! Wait!!"
Slowly he turned to see Téa there, watching him. To his surprise, Seto was beside her.
"I'm going back to Rishid," Marik told them quietly. "I want to be with him. . . ." With that he climbed on his motorcycle and drove off. He was so weary . . . so tired. . . . And he just felt like he couldn't try dealing with the boys. Not right now.
"What's with the girly-boy anyway?" Brandon asked. "We didn't do anything to him!"
Téa looked at them, her eyes flashing. "You didn't do anything?!" she cried. "You both threw these things at him!!" She pointed to the objects in the snow. "And that's not all. Ever since you two arrived, you've been making life difficult for him. But he never once spoke a mean word about either of you!!!" The kind-hearted girl placed her hands on her hips, determined to get some answers. Seto had told her a lot more of what Ishizu had said as they'd been riding in the limo, and she was outraged by it all. "Why do you have it in for him?! What did he ever do to you?!"
Both boys looked at the ground guiltily. "Well . . ." Taylor reached to pick up the turnip. "He didn't do anything to us!" he admitted defensively. "We just wanted to see how he'd react to this stuff!"
Téa looked at them in disbelief. "I can't believe you!" she cried. "This was just cruel. Hasn't this day been hard enough for him already?! His best friend is barely speaking to him, his brother is laying unconscious and may never wake up, and someone is out for his blood! And now on top of that he has to deal with your thoughtless actions! You're always calling him a girl and making fun of him, and now you're even throwing things at him! How can you live with yourselves?! How??!"
Taylor looked away, not wanting her to see the tears. "We never wanted to hurt him," he said softly. "Honest! We didn't know he was having such an awful time!"
"You do now," Seto said coldly. He had been letting Téa do most of the talking, but frankly, he was angry as well and wanting his say.
"And you have hurt him," Téa snapped. "You've both hurt him terribly, and you should apologize!"
Brandon snorted. "Hey, if the Girly-boy can't take a few thrown veggies . . ."
Téa could barely restrain herself from slapping the defiant child. "This isn't about the turnip! All he's ever shown you is kindness!" she yelled. "And you repay him by slapping him in the face continually! What does it matter that he wears jewelry and has his hair long? That doesn't give you the right to do what you've been doing!!"
Taylor ran out to the street and looked about, trying to catch sight of the troubled teenager but seeing nothing. "He's not here," he whispered. Téa's words and Marik's haunted look were affecting him deeply and now he was feeling horrible for what he and his brother had been doing.
"Did you think he'd stay around?!" Téa fumed. "He knew where he wasn't wanted! And he was tired of dealing with you. He just wanted to go home!" She bent down to pick up the snowball and was appalled as the icy whiteness fell away to reveal a rock.
Brandon crossed his arms defiantly. "Why didn't he throw the things back at us?!" He didn't seem concerned that Téa had discovered the rock. He hadn't known it was there, but he didn't really care. It was just small anyway, the boy decided.
"Because," Seto replied as he came over more, "he won't stoop to your level." He glared at the rock in Téa's hand. Téa was so horrified that she couldn't even speak.
****
Marik shuffled through the freezing, unshoveled snow on the walkway to his porch, ignoring the new flakes as they landed on his bare hands. Why did it seem like the Heavens were against him and those he loved? Why had Rishid been hurt? Surely the Lord knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. Rishid had always been so kind and good! But then . . . he knew that people were allowed free agency on earth. And some people abused theirs. That was why Rishid was hurt. Because of that . . . and because he had used his own free agency to save Marik's life.
But why was Mokuba so angry? Marik hadn't done anything to him, and yet suddenly it seemed almost that the younger boy hated him. He just couldn't understand.
It's obvious Brandon and Taylor hate me, the Egyptian thought to himself then. They've both had it in for me ever since they arrived. Memories of everything they'd said and done swirled through his mind. Now he had finally gotten so he just couldn't take it anymore, not along with everything else as well. The turnip had been the breaking point for him.
Wearily he pushed the door to the Ishtar home open and went in. "Sister?" he called, praying that Rishid would be better. Marik had never wanted to leave him, but when he had heard Mokuba was in trouble, he had left to try to help—only to be slapped in the face, literally, and told that his help wasn't needed. Again the memory of that returned to him, as well as how Rishid had collapsed right there hours earlier, just inside the door.
Ishizu came out of their brother's bedroom, her eyes tired and sad. She shook her head, telling Marik all he needed to know. Just by looking at him, she knew that what Mokuba had done had pierced her poor brother's heart deeply.
"I heard that things did not go as you wished, dear brother," she said softly as he ran over and into Rishid's room.
Marik didn't answer her. Instead he raised Rishid's limp hand and held it close, letting the tears spill onto it. "Why isn't he awake?" he asked brokenly. "He was awake when I left . . ."
Ishizu bit her lip, her heart breaking again. "He struggled so hard to stay conscious, Marik," she told him, "but once you had gone, he could not hold out any longer."
Marik gazed at his brother sadly. "What if he doesn't wake up again?" he whispered in horror. "What if he never does?!" I should have known that he was still so weakened! he berated himself. He only woke up long enough to tell me that it was alright to look for Mokuba. And, in spite of what Mokuba had done to berate him, Marik knew he had done the right thing by going.
"He will," Ishizu tried to reassure him. "Rishid will not leave us." She came over and put her arms around the teenage boy. Marik smiled weakly at the gesture and then laid his head on Rishid's nearly still chest.
"I miss him, sister," Marik said softly. "I . . . I know his body is here, but . . . he isn't. . . . Not right now. . . . I want him to talk to us again. . . . I want him to wake up and be alright. . . ." And I want him to just take me in his arms and hold me, the way he did when we were children, he added silently. It was breaking his heart to see Rishid laying so still. It had only been early that morning when this had happened, but it seemed more like an eon.
Ishizu kissed Marik's cheek. "Have faith, dear Marik," she tried to tell him.
Marik sighed. "I try, sister . . . but it's so hard sometimes . . . so very hard. . . ."
"I know," Ishizu said. "But that is when we need it the most."
It wasn't long before Marik had fallen asleep, tears trailing down his face. Carefully Ishizu lifted him into the bed beside Rishid and pulled the warm comforter quilt close around them, wishing so badly that she knew what to do. Softly she began to sing O Little Town of Bethlehem, stroking Marik's hair tenderly.
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep,
The silent stars go by
She noticed as Rishid weakly brought his arm around Marik, holding him close to his side. An immense feeling of peace came over her then and she knew that everything would be alright. It was all she could do to keep from crying aloud in joy.
****
Duke, who had left the Ishtars' home long ago in order to go undercover again, was having the strange, uneasy feeling that the drug lords no longer trusted him. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he had sensed something different in the way they spoke to him tonight. Now they had given him the assignment to go the address they wrote on a piece of paper and ask for Harry. Duke had had a foreboding ever since he had accepted that paper, and now as he got closer, the feeling only increased.
Suddenly a pair of headlights lit up the grey, snowy night. A car was there, barreling toward him. And there was no mistaking what the driver wanted—to run Duke down!
"But we know that that man always seems to know what's going on!" Bakura exclaimed. "Come on! We have to get back to the city!!"
Yugi agreed firmly. "If our friends are in trouble, then we've gotta help them!"
"Oh, by the way, Bakura, where's your Yami?" Tristan asked as they ran back up the beaten path.
Bakura sighed. "I'm afraid he's back home impersonating me."
"And you're just lettin' him get away with that?!" Joey said in shock.
"Oh . . . how can I stop him?" Bakura said with a brief shrug. "Besides, I suppose he is only trying to get to the bottom of things with Frances. . . ."
Yugi smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure everything will be alright," he replied as a light snow began to fall.
****
Yami Bakura, meanwhile, was becoming rather frustrated with the results of his investigation. Frances was definitely not willing to divulge any hints—if she was Franceska in disguise. And the old thief couldn't figure her out at all. He hadn't sensed anything dark about her since the first evening she'd been there, and yet . . . he didn't suddenly sense that she was a saint, either. It was more of a feeling of . . . nothing, he realized. He was sensing nothing from her.
"Oh, Bakura, I think I'll get some more mashed potatoes," Mr. Ryou said abruptly, breaking into the thief's train of thought. As it happened, they were not at home, but at an all-night all-you-can-eat restaurant.
"That's fine," Yami Bakura smiled in his best Bakura imitation. It was hard to remember not to slurp his soup and not to ravenously tear into the very rare steak he was eating, but when posing as Bakura, one must do as Bakura, he thought. In fact, he realized, it wasn't likely Bakura would ever get a rare steak. He just hoped that Mr. Ryou was too love-struck to notice.
Oreo purred from her hidden spot under the table. There hadn't been any use in trying to keep her at home, especially when she heard of where they were going. Now she whipped her tail around Yami Bakura's ankles and bit into the meat loaf she had insisted on having.
Frances smiled strangely at Yami Bakura once Mr. Ryou had left. "Such a curious line-up of food tonight, Bakura," she remarked, and instantly the thief was on guard.
"Oh?" he said nonchalantly.
"Yes," Frances nodded. "Meat, meat, and more meat. I don't think I've ever before seen you eat that much beef, pork, chicken, and what have you."
Yami Bakura gave a Bakuraish laugh. "Well . . . I suppose I was just extremely hungry tonight. I didn't get a chance to eat anything during lunch at school. I was . . . catching up on my English homework."
"Well . . . that sounds like you," Frances said in amusement. "Always worried about your schoolwork."
Yami Bakura tried to blush the way he thought Bakura would, but to his annoyance he couldn't pull that one off. So he simply scratched his cheek and then looked back down at his plate.
"You're good at this, Yami Bakura," Frances said in that same amused tone just as Mr. Ryou was returning.
The tomb robber's head shot up and he stared at her, but with Bakura's father sitting back down, Yami Bakura knew he wouldn't be able to find out what was going on just yet. But whether or not this was Franceska, she obviously knew his true identity. And he had a feeling that it wasn't because of the meat.
****
Téa had looked everywhere for Mokuba in vain. By now she was so distressed that she was heading for the Kaiba Manor to see if possibly Seto had gone back there to do more planning on how to get Mokuba back.
Velma answered the door when Téa knocked. "Oh, come on in," the maid said in an occupied tone of voice. "Sorry I can't stay and chat, but I've gotta find Janine's boys! Oh that Brandon and that Taylor!"
Téa blinked. "Is Kaiba here?" she asked.
"Uh huh," Velma replied. "He just got back with Mokuba. Gotta run now!" And with that, she had, indeed, run off.
"Mokuba's back?!" Téa exclaimed in both confusion and relief.
"You could say that," Seto said coldly as he came up from behind her. "Physically, he's back."
Téa jumped a mile. "What do you mean by that, Kaiba?!" she demanded.
"He's in one of his 'independent' moods," Seto informed her. "But this is about the worst I've seen him. He slapped Marik."
"What??!" The girl couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"I don't know much more than that," Seto said. "He won't talk to me and as soon as we got back, he went up to his room."
Téa blinked. "You . . . you don't think that . . ."
"That maybe something was done to him by Del Vinci?" Seto finished for her. "The thought has crossed my mind. Except Mokuba has been acting somewhat this way since before Thanksgiving. But that doesn't mean that Del Vinci couldn't have done something to intensify it. And if he has, I swear I'll find out."
Abruptly the phone rang and Seto snatched it up in irritation. Téa watched him as he spoke, remembering how furious he had been when he had talked to Del Vinci. When he had then tried to find Mr. Thorton to talk to him again, the man hadn't been in his office. Neither Seto or Téa had been able to locate him since. Téa wondered who Seto was talking to now.
"No, he isn't here," Seto grunted. "I don't know the details, but after what Mokuba must've said and done, I doubt seriously that he would show up here." There was a pause. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry."
Téa hadn't known that Seto would apologize to anyone.
"I really don't think I'll see him. But I'm sure he's fine." With that Seto said talked a bit more before saying goodbye and hanging up.
"Well?!" Téa exclaimed.
"Well what?" Seto grunted.
"Who was on the phone?!" Téa cried.
"Not that it's any of your business, but it was Ishizu," Seto said. "Marik isn't home yet and she's concerned. Rishid was seriously hurt earlier today and Ishizu knew that Marik had wanted to get back to him as soon as he could."
Téa gasped. "What happened to Rishid?!"
"She said it was a poison dart," Seto told her.
Téa was horrified. "I'm going to find Marik," she declared, opening the door and running out. "He must be feeling terrible after all this!"
"You do that," Seto nodded. He glanced up toward Mokuba's room upstairs with a sigh. His brother wouldn't be coming out any time soon, he knew, and perhaps . . . perhaps he owed Marik something for helping to look. "I'll come with you."
Téa was momentarily startled, but Seto gave her no time to question him. After speaking to Anna, he went outside and got in the limousine. Téa quickly followed.
****
Marik cried out as his motorcycle ran over a patch of ice and swerved, dumping him into the snow covering Domino City Park. After a moment of laying somewhat stunned, the teenager slowly sat up and surveyed himself hesitantly, trying to see what damage had been done. But he found no injuries, to his surprise.
Moodily he sat down on a nearby park bench after clearing it of the snow that had fallen on it from the large pine tree above. He wanted to get back home to Rishid, he knew as he removed his helmet again, but maybe he would just take a moment or two to try digesting everything that was going on. Everything was coming at him so fast he barely knew what to do about any of it.
He stared into the drifting snowflakes, remembering how he would complain about how cold they were. Rishid had laughed and said that he lived with it. Marik replied that he did, too, but that that didn't make him like it any better. Then Mokuba had playfully hit him with a snowball. It wasn't like the way it was when Brandon and Taylor threw snow. Marik had known Mokuba was only kidding around. But it seemed to him that Brandon and Taylor truly hated him, and he couldn't understand what he ever done.
"Why can't things be the way they were?" Marik whispered, thinking of Rishid laying so still after being struck down. Of Mokuba slapping him harshly when all he had wanted was to help him. And of whoever was out for his blood. Had it been one of the ex-Rare Hunters, as Duke had suggested before Marik had left to look for Mokuba? "They almost took Rishid instead!" the boy cried aloud. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew his brother wasn't out of danger yet.
Unseen by him were Brandon and Taylor themselves. They had been all over the city with their Grim Reaper act and now found it delightful to encounter the "girly-boy." Grinning to each other, they took a few things from their robes and threw them roughly.
Instantly Marik was startled out of his saddened reverie. A turnip connected with his arm and he just stared in silence as the vegetable fell to the snowy ground, along with a radish and a snowball that had caught him in the forehead and felt strangely hard. Slowly he raised his eyes to look at the two little boys in shock.
Brandon and Taylor had been laughing at their little joke, but when they saw the wounded look in Marik's eyes they were immediately sobered.
"Hey," Taylor tried to say, "Girly-boy . . . we didn't mean nothin'! We were just having fun! What's the matter with you?!"
Marik slowly bent to the ground and picked the turnip up, turning it over and over in his hands. Brandon and Taylor just gawked, wondering if he was going to throw it back at them. At last the Egyptian boy dropped the vegetable back down and turned to the sidewalk, hanging his head. Without a word, he wandered back out into the snowy night.
"Marik!!! Wait!!"
Slowly he turned to see Téa there, watching him. To his surprise, Seto was beside her.
"I'm going back to Rishid," Marik told them quietly. "I want to be with him. . . ." With that he climbed on his motorcycle and drove off. He was so weary . . . so tired. . . . And he just felt like he couldn't try dealing with the boys. Not right now.
"What's with the girly-boy anyway?" Brandon asked. "We didn't do anything to him!"
Téa looked at them, her eyes flashing. "You didn't do anything?!" she cried. "You both threw these things at him!!" She pointed to the objects in the snow. "And that's not all. Ever since you two arrived, you've been making life difficult for him. But he never once spoke a mean word about either of you!!!" The kind-hearted girl placed her hands on her hips, determined to get some answers. Seto had told her a lot more of what Ishizu had said as they'd been riding in the limo, and she was outraged by it all. "Why do you have it in for him?! What did he ever do to you?!"
Both boys looked at the ground guiltily. "Well . . ." Taylor reached to pick up the turnip. "He didn't do anything to us!" he admitted defensively. "We just wanted to see how he'd react to this stuff!"
Téa looked at them in disbelief. "I can't believe you!" she cried. "This was just cruel. Hasn't this day been hard enough for him already?! His best friend is barely speaking to him, his brother is laying unconscious and may never wake up, and someone is out for his blood! And now on top of that he has to deal with your thoughtless actions! You're always calling him a girl and making fun of him, and now you're even throwing things at him! How can you live with yourselves?! How??!"
Taylor looked away, not wanting her to see the tears. "We never wanted to hurt him," he said softly. "Honest! We didn't know he was having such an awful time!"
"You do now," Seto said coldly. He had been letting Téa do most of the talking, but frankly, he was angry as well and wanting his say.
"And you have hurt him," Téa snapped. "You've both hurt him terribly, and you should apologize!"
Brandon snorted. "Hey, if the Girly-boy can't take a few thrown veggies . . ."
Téa could barely restrain herself from slapping the defiant child. "This isn't about the turnip! All he's ever shown you is kindness!" she yelled. "And you repay him by slapping him in the face continually! What does it matter that he wears jewelry and has his hair long? That doesn't give you the right to do what you've been doing!!"
Taylor ran out to the street and looked about, trying to catch sight of the troubled teenager but seeing nothing. "He's not here," he whispered. Téa's words and Marik's haunted look were affecting him deeply and now he was feeling horrible for what he and his brother had been doing.
"Did you think he'd stay around?!" Téa fumed. "He knew where he wasn't wanted! And he was tired of dealing with you. He just wanted to go home!" She bent down to pick up the snowball and was appalled as the icy whiteness fell away to reveal a rock.
Brandon crossed his arms defiantly. "Why didn't he throw the things back at us?!" He didn't seem concerned that Téa had discovered the rock. He hadn't known it was there, but he didn't really care. It was just small anyway, the boy decided.
"Because," Seto replied as he came over more, "he won't stoop to your level." He glared at the rock in Téa's hand. Téa was so horrified that she couldn't even speak.
****
Marik shuffled through the freezing, unshoveled snow on the walkway to his porch, ignoring the new flakes as they landed on his bare hands. Why did it seem like the Heavens were against him and those he loved? Why had Rishid been hurt? Surely the Lord knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. Rishid had always been so kind and good! But then . . . he knew that people were allowed free agency on earth. And some people abused theirs. That was why Rishid was hurt. Because of that . . . and because he had used his own free agency to save Marik's life.
But why was Mokuba so angry? Marik hadn't done anything to him, and yet suddenly it seemed almost that the younger boy hated him. He just couldn't understand.
It's obvious Brandon and Taylor hate me, the Egyptian thought to himself then. They've both had it in for me ever since they arrived. Memories of everything they'd said and done swirled through his mind. Now he had finally gotten so he just couldn't take it anymore, not along with everything else as well. The turnip had been the breaking point for him.
Wearily he pushed the door to the Ishtar home open and went in. "Sister?" he called, praying that Rishid would be better. Marik had never wanted to leave him, but when he had heard Mokuba was in trouble, he had left to try to help—only to be slapped in the face, literally, and told that his help wasn't needed. Again the memory of that returned to him, as well as how Rishid had collapsed right there hours earlier, just inside the door.
Ishizu came out of their brother's bedroom, her eyes tired and sad. She shook her head, telling Marik all he needed to know. Just by looking at him, she knew that what Mokuba had done had pierced her poor brother's heart deeply.
"I heard that things did not go as you wished, dear brother," she said softly as he ran over and into Rishid's room.
Marik didn't answer her. Instead he raised Rishid's limp hand and held it close, letting the tears spill onto it. "Why isn't he awake?" he asked brokenly. "He was awake when I left . . ."
Ishizu bit her lip, her heart breaking again. "He struggled so hard to stay conscious, Marik," she told him, "but once you had gone, he could not hold out any longer."
Marik gazed at his brother sadly. "What if he doesn't wake up again?" he whispered in horror. "What if he never does?!" I should have known that he was still so weakened! he berated himself. He only woke up long enough to tell me that it was alright to look for Mokuba. And, in spite of what Mokuba had done to berate him, Marik knew he had done the right thing by going.
"He will," Ishizu tried to reassure him. "Rishid will not leave us." She came over and put her arms around the teenage boy. Marik smiled weakly at the gesture and then laid his head on Rishid's nearly still chest.
"I miss him, sister," Marik said softly. "I . . . I know his body is here, but . . . he isn't. . . . Not right now. . . . I want him to talk to us again. . . . I want him to wake up and be alright. . . ." And I want him to just take me in his arms and hold me, the way he did when we were children, he added silently. It was breaking his heart to see Rishid laying so still. It had only been early that morning when this had happened, but it seemed more like an eon.
Ishizu kissed Marik's cheek. "Have faith, dear Marik," she tried to tell him.
Marik sighed. "I try, sister . . . but it's so hard sometimes . . . so very hard. . . ."
"I know," Ishizu said. "But that is when we need it the most."
It wasn't long before Marik had fallen asleep, tears trailing down his face. Carefully Ishizu lifted him into the bed beside Rishid and pulled the warm comforter quilt close around them, wishing so badly that she knew what to do. Softly she began to sing O Little Town of Bethlehem, stroking Marik's hair tenderly.
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep,
The silent stars go by
She noticed as Rishid weakly brought his arm around Marik, holding him close to his side. An immense feeling of peace came over her then and she knew that everything would be alright. It was all she could do to keep from crying aloud in joy.
****
Duke, who had left the Ishtars' home long ago in order to go undercover again, was having the strange, uneasy feeling that the drug lords no longer trusted him. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he had sensed something different in the way they spoke to him tonight. Now they had given him the assignment to go the address they wrote on a piece of paper and ask for Harry. Duke had had a foreboding ever since he had accepted that paper, and now as he got closer, the feeling only increased.
Suddenly a pair of headlights lit up the grey, snowy night. A car was there, barreling toward him. And there was no mistaking what the driver wanted—to run Duke down!