Croquet's flinch was all it took to realize his mistake. The room came into focus, all secondary pain dulling into aches as he sat up and felt it flare brightly across his back.

"Let him go," he warned darkly, and the hands, too many to number as he stood, grew slack in their grip.

Hands slacked and Seto stumbled a step forward. The guards behind him had followed Pegasus's order, but stayed in place. He caught the slight lift of Croquet's hand, as clear an indicator as Seto could see instructing them to hold steady. They didn't move. No one moved.

let her go

Seto closed his eyes so he didn't have to see Pegasus. His head dropped and he pushed a hand to his mouth, unsure if he felt nauseated or terrified. He hadn't meant to snap like he had, but he also hadn't expect that from Pegasus. Seto didn't know what that was or how to interpret it.

He heard his name and dared a glance ahead of him. Pegasus extended a hand and Seto stepped back, only to have the guards shove him back forward. They had released him the first time, but now had put force behind the action, driving him closer to Pegasus than before.

Their thoughts were practically audible.

Let the boss do whatever. The money comes regardless. What does it matter that he sees the kid as—

Nothing came to mind that might help him. No words, no plans, no actions. His chest constricted, even tighter as Pegasus moved in another step, walking carefully like he was trying not to set Seto off again.

Seto's vision tunneled down to Pegasus alone. He couldn't breathe, the memory of Pegasus's hand grabbing his face with that dazed expression encompassing everything.

let her go

Before Seto tried taking another step back, Croquet slid in between them, temporarily cutting off Seto's line of sight.

Pegasus's voice was barely audible but Seto caught the strain in it through Croquet's back. "Move."

"Do you know where you are?"

"I could've sworn I was in my own home speaking to a subordinate, but evidently—"

"A thousand pardons, Master Pegasus." Croquet gave a short bow. "It seemed you weren't yourself for a moment."

"I extend you none, Croquet." Irritation rose with the volume of Pegasus's voice. "Take Seto Kaiba to the tower and leave him unrestrained. You know where the sedative is should he resist. There are enough of you to thwart any significant problems until morning, and so help me if I find a scratch on that boy I didn't leave myself—"

"We understand, sir," Croquet interrupted, watching each of Pegasus's angry breaths heave with his chest. The taller man put a hand on his shoulder and shoved squarely, so he took the final hint and stepped aside, leaving Seto no defense against Pegasus's gaze.

"Make sure he can access the shower," he snapped. "It'll take me weeks to get the stench of his adrenaline off me."

With that he strode angrily out of the room, leaving Seto with seven guards too stunned to do anything but watch their master go.

Croquet was the first to respond. He gave the order for one of the men to fetch the key to take off the shackles and the man closest to the door scurried to obey.

The air returned to normal once Pegasus left, and Seto calmed himself with a few steady breaths. His only consolation was that the others, namely Croquet, seemed equally confused as to what had just happened. The need to know, to be sure, was devastatingly prominent, but Seto knew he would never ask.

By the time Seto's ankles were free, he realized that leaving the room meant they would find the hole in the mattress, the newspaper and plate tucked away. They pushed him out of the room before he had the chance to move anything, to try to hide the evidence of what he had done. One of the guards walked on either side of him, each gripping his upper arm tight enough that he couldn't pull free, but not with enough force to bruise. They were all walking under threat—Seto of the sedative, the guards of the unspoken.

He considered fighting back, but Pegasus had instructed him to be left unrestrained. He doubted that he would wake up—because surely they would sedate him—free if he fought. The tower had to be better than the dungeon, and a shower meant a bathroom instead of a bucket.

He had forgotten that his ankle had been hurt until they reached the stairs. After a flight, he had to slow down, but the guards couldn't do anything to make him walk faster. Like Seto, they were still too stunned to do much more than follow directions, and the most notable of them, cause no additional injuries.

Croquet went ahead of them and disappeared around a corner. The procession with Seto moved at a pace fitting of his injuries, and they caught up by a doorway at the end of a hall. The door had been opened and they led him inside, pushing him in with a slight shove.

Croquet unlocked a door off to the side, letting it swing open to reveal a bathroom. He pocketed the key and made to leave, but Seto stopped him by saying, "Don't send a doctor, but get something to cover these." He held up his right hand, sleeve still rolled once to show the bright pink and purple skin.

With a dip of his head, Croquet left the room, followed by the tell-tale sign of a deadbolt falling into place.

Pegasus mentioned a shower. As much as Seto wanted to dissect what had just happened, he knew he would think better after getting clean. A glance around the room didn't produce a change of clothes, but after the way Pegasus had talked, Seto suspected he would be brought a new set.

He walked first to the window, covered in thick iron bars, and looked out over the island. It was too dark to see detail other than the faint outline of trees and the reflection of the moon on the ocean. He had hoped that seeing outside would remove the sense of claustrophobia hanging over him.

It didn't.

He went into the shower before Croquet could return, stripping and turning the handle all the way toward hot. Seto stepped in without giving himself time to adjust, winced as it burned all of his injuries, and then sat on the floor.

The water around him ran red as the blood washed from his hair. Seto pressed his fingers together over nose and mouth and sat under the spray until it turned cold, doing everything in his power not to think about how Pegasus had looked at him.

Seto didn't bother to come out of the bathroom when he heard Croquet enter, and by the time the man had gone again, likely taking another sweep of the room for security's sake, he'd lost the strength to force himself to his feet. It felt like all the circulation had been cut off from his legs, and he silently wished he'd thought to grab the bottle of water before coming up. Not that he could stomach it anyway.

He laid his head against the dripping tile and closed his eyes. Rather than try to think of the horrors that awaited him in the morning, from the product of the guards' outrage at his escape plan, to Pegasus's guaranteed company, he sought to forget himself, tried to imagine being at the top of KaibaLand's highest roller coaster, Mokuba by his side, arms up and screaming through the air. He felt a sudden surge of dread at the idea of never seeing his brother clamber up the steps to the ride again, never feeling the wind on his face again, never getting to tell the only person he loved that he was right behind him.

He let the breath out of his body slowly and forced himself up to change, pausing to drink from the sink first. When Pegasus did come, and he was sure he would, he didn't want to be in nothing but a towel. Not knowing where the light switch was, and figuring Croquet had flipped it on purpose, he felt around in the dark until he came to the bed. His hand brushed something hard, a cap upon further inspection, but tossed the offending tube on the ground, sick at the thought of what it might be.

There were medical wrist guards as he had requested, but he decided to let the skin breathe for the night. He slipped into the clothes, pajamas judging from the fabric, and laid on top of the blanket until he fell into sleep.

Pegasus laid awake with his racing thoughts through the early morning hours, well after the sun commanded the horizon. Despite going on two days with no rest, it wasn't quiet enough to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, Cecelia's voice threatened to pull him into the abyss. His head throbbed with visions of their childhood and confessions from young Seto Kaiba's mouth. Fifteen. Too young. Afraid but unencumbered.

What was it about that boy?

What had it always been about that boy?

He rolled over, forcing himself to ignore the question until his body gave into exhaustion. He dozed off and on for a few hours before he mustered the desire to dress. He put on a lavender dress shirt, matching paisley tie, and gray slacks.

Then, smoothing his hair, made his way out of the bedroom. He was surprised to find both Croquet and Hadley awaiting him.

"Both senior members of security found it wise to be away from his room?"

"He's unlikely to try anything this soon after being freed, but Seto Kaiba isn't going to consent to stay here if given another option."

"I know that," Pegasus said softly, doing the best he could to quell the irritation in his voice. "He still thinks he has a life to go back to."

The concern in Hadley's features, ever present but usually better hidden, reaffirmed that he could never take Croquet's place.

"Maybe if you eased up a little—"

"Hadley," both Pegasus and Croquet cut in.

"Go find someone to patch up. I'll call you when I need you for Seto," Pegasus ordered. "He goes from stone walls to the best view of my island this place has to offer, leashed to penthouse suite access and I'm being harsh? Clearly."

If he hadn't been fed already, Seto would have to wait a while longer. Pegasus didn't trust himself around him until he'd had a cup of coffee.

If his head was clear enough, and he was feeling generous, he might bring one for Seto.

At least, he thought, it would keep him distracted.

Light pouring through the window woke Seto. He rolled over to cast a shadow over his face, amazed that after two days, waking to the sun already seemed odd. But once awake, he couldn't fall back asleep.

He hadn't kicked the wrist guards off the bed in his sleep and he stared at them for a while, alternating his attention between them and his wrists. They had crusted over during the night, some of the blisters slighty deflated, but otherwise no better. He would have to keep them covered when Pegasus came in, not only to keep the attention off the injury, but to be prepared should Pegasus try grabbing him again.

But looking at his wrists brought up a more serious concern that he had been too occupied to notice the night before. The pajamas he had been given, a pair of charcoal sweatpants and a white t-shirt, didn't cover his arms.

The scars faded over the years, but not enough to conceal them. He supposed he should have considered himself lucky that his arms hadn't gotten the worst of the damage, mostly just circular burns with the one exception by his right elbow.

People had scars. Maybe Pegasus wouldn't comment.

Seto went into the bathroom and surveyed himself in the mirror. It could have just been that he was looking for them, but the scars popped out, dark against his pale skin. The flannel shirt was still on the floor. He could change back into it.

He took another shower first, and unlike the night before, made use of the toiletries left for him. More blood ran down while he carefully washed around the wound on his head, and he paid close attention to his neck, wrists, and ankles.

Once he finished, Seto patted the injured areas dry, spending extra time on the wrists that were about to be covered. He decided against the flannel after smelling it, then fixed his hair in the mirror.

All searching under the sink produced was a packaged toothbrush and box of toothpaste. Seto put both to use, spit, then brushed again. His reflection received a final look and a disproving sneer before he walked into the bedroom. It had been years since he had been this injured.

One step and Seto walked back, reaching right into the bathroom for his socks, discarded the previous night. He drew the line at facing Pegasus while barefoot.

The island spread out below the window, more land than ocean, with a series of rocky hills to his right. Seto settled in by the window, taking a break to grab the wrist guards once he was sure all the remaining moisture had evaporated.

He could have searched the room or played over the events knocking for access into his mind, but Seto leaned his head against the wall and watched a pair of birds flying from tree to tree. The view was similar to what Mokuba had described from when he had been in Seto's situation.

Seto didn't turn when the door opened.

Pegasus let the door close gently behind him. Seto's foot shifted slightly against the bed, body curled as far into the corner as he could manage while maintaining a glimpse of the outside world. Otherwise, he gave no reaction.

Pegasus untucked the folding metal chair from his side and carefully guided it to the stone floor. It was obvious the boy was awake and alert, he didn't know why he was muffling his every move, but it felt like the slightest misstep would scare him into an irretrievable stupor. He cast his gaze downward as he took a seat, eyes finding a small tube about halfway under the bed. Likely kicked there. Seto wouldn't hide something in plain sight.

Pegasus expected Seto to turn his nose to the corner at any moment in the desperate attempt to avoid his company.

He didn't want to think about the slip from the previous night any more than Seto did, so he reminded himself to be as patient as possible.

"I didn't take off those restraints for you to let the skin peel off from neglect," he chided in a volume one level lower than usual, trying to ease softness into his voice. "The Lanacane doesn't sting."

Seto's eyes flickered to his face for less than a moment.

As he suspected, he hadn't noticed the ointment.

When Seto made no indication to clarify what he meant, he stretched out a leg, catching the end of the plastic tube under his shoe, and slid it across the floor so he could bend down to pick it up.

Once he'd produced the yellow and white packaging, he held it up like one would in an infomercial. "Be generous with it. I'll get you more if you run out."

He tossed it, letting it bounce off one of Seto's legs without another word. He caught the black fabric of the wrist guards against the natural light. Maybe Seto had applied a layer before he put them on. He wanted to inspect his other wounds, particularly the one to his head, but couldn't at the angle he was positioned.

"I don't see a plate," he mused, as much to himself as to Seto. "Have they come and gone with it already?"

Seto hated the way his heart picked up as Pegasus rose quickly to his feet, as if he might lunge for him at any moment. He felt the warmth of the sun disappear as a cloud passed in front of it, allowing himself a few seconds of distraction as Pegasus crossed the room, demanded a meal and a list of morning watch, and settled right back into the chair as if nothing happened.

If Pegasus wasn't going to bring up the incident, Seto wouldn't either. He couldn't ignore Pegasus forever, but words wouldn't fit together into sentences or anything coherent. His mind kept playing 'let her go let her go let her go' on repeat, not allowing anything else priority.

But Pegasus just sat there as patient as ever, like the previous day hadn't happened. He had ordered food but Seto's stomach rolled at the idea. Seeing Pegasus brought back the fear from the night before because being free from the chains didn't free Seto. Now the threat of going back in shackles hung in front of him.

Pegasus wasn't going to—let her go—let him go.

There wasn't much else for him to move, not with his right arm pressed to the wall by the window, effectively hiding the most noticeable of the scars, and his left across his lap. He wasn't ready to discuss them, or even to see Pegasus's reaction upon noticing.

But his hands twitched with energy, looking for something to do, so he picked up the tube Pegasus had tossed over, turning it as if to read the warning label. The wrist guards limited his movement, probably intended for a sprained wrist than rubbed raw, but it kept them covered and so stayed on. Applying it in front of Pegasus was out of the question, but seeing the word 'antibacterial' made Seto reconsider ignoring the advice.

let her go let her go

Seto hadn't wanted to ask any questions, but figured that one couldn't hurt. He practiced the sentence in his head several times over before asking, "Why did you take off the restraints?"

Pegasus opened his mouth to reply but a soft knock at the door stopped him, "Come in," he called over his shoulder. "Leave it."

The nameless guard obeyed, never crossing the threshold into the room but bending to leave the plate and slip out in one motion.

"Have you been here all morning?"

The guard stopped, perplexed. It seemed like the kind of remark Pegasus would make to tease the kid, and it was only when the room began to swell with signature impatience that he realized such wasn't the case. "No sir, I just took over for Keatley."

Pegasus gave a little 'mm' that only Seto could hear. "Tell Croquet Keatley's next check is to come in the form of a watch." The peon sputtered but couldn't get his words out. "Now."

Seto stilled at the familiar urgency in Pegasus's voice, but settled himself as the vaguely familiar suit disappeared. The last thing he wanted to do was seem on edge in front of Pegasus, as if it was remotely avoidable. He steadied his breaths and waited for the answer to his question, not bothering to meet Crawford's eyes for fear of what might lie behind them.

"They were hurting you," Pegasus answered at last.

A lot of things were hurting him, but saying so would only fuel the other man's outrage so Seto tamed his tongue. That explained the shackles on his wrists, but those on his ankles hadn't given him nearly as much grief. There was a reason Pegasus removed those as well. His mind spun with questions. If this really was a test, one toe out of line would be enough to send him back to the dungeon.

He felt his body grow cold and his mind drift to leave it behind. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this hopeless. He supposed he'd pointedly repressed it, wrongly thinking that it was all in the past. So far gone it couldn't reach to burn him anymore.

He shuddered, not coherent enough to care if Pegasus saw.

He had to force himself to focus on the rest of the man's words in the slim chance they mattered. "I understand your wanting to run, and eventually you'll understand my wanting to bring you back. I don't want to hurt you to keep you here, Seto. I knew it would be hard for you to swallow but I never expected..."

The words died on his lips and Seto doubted he'd ever hear the end of the thought.

He hated to admit he'd lost the nerve to be angry, but he knew he'd never vocalize half the inferno behind his own eyes. He chanced a hard look into Pegasus's just the same, gripped by raw fear at the hallowed iris staring back.

How could this man have captured him? Seto tilted back to the window but his vision blurred. He had heard Pegasus, the masked apology behind the words, but he also remembered all of the comments from before. Like hell he didn't want to hurt him.

Pad them with something interesting, rusted nails, barbed wire.

It won't be any fun if you do the work for me.

I'm quite enjoying myself ... I wanted you.

Do you think it would be hard for me to keep you too drugged to resist?

The harder you fight back, the further you'll push me into staging a throw away threat to Little Mokuba.

Pegasus was just like all the others, looking at Seto and seeing an object, a prize, something to be tamed. Even after last night, after everything, Pegasus still expected Seto to stay, and not only to stay, but to understand whatever skewed logic was behind it.

Seto hadn't been this off his game since Gozaburo. It always came back to him.

He shook his head and stood, heading for the bathroom in fear that he would crack and let out the flood of emotions that one night hadn't been able to dam. Pegasus didn't move as he walked by, and Seto closed the door behind him.

His forehead fell forward on the door as he clenched his teeth and told himself that he was better than this. Seto controlled himself, not Pegasus, not the threat of Gozaburo. He couldn't go back to being a tamed pet at his master's side. He won. Those days were left in memory.

Resting against the door didn't cool him down, so Seto walked to the vanity and stared at his reflection. Blue eyes returned his stare, and Seto couldn't deny the apparent horror behind them. He couldn't do this again.

Seto never heard the door, so he assumed Pegasus waited for him. He didn't stay hidden long, but noticed with regret the red splotch that had broken out across his neck, branching out over the cut and the stitches. Just another sign of his weakness.

With one long, slow, and heavy exhale, Seto met his gaze once more. Pegasus couldn't have him. Not any more than he did.

And with that promise, Seto went back into the bedroom and to his spot by the window, standing this time.

"Okay. You've said your piece."

So leave.

Pegasus stayed seated at first, feeling no need to match the power stance. He nodded once to steel himself before pushing to his feet and crossing the room for Seto's plate.

"And you've done your sulking," he said, holding it out with both hands. Seto's eyes narrowed to it before finding Pegasus's defiant, refusing to accept the offer. He had no appetite for it anyway. "If you want me to leave, take your breakfast." Pegasus didn't reach out to Seto any further, and only engaged him by holding his stare. "Pick at it all afternoon if you have to. I can't make you eat. I won't hold you down to fix those stitches, though we might as well take them out at this rate." Seto moved an arm slightly and Pegasus could feel him praying he wouldn't realize what it was supposed to accomplish. Nudging a white collar would do little to cover fresh blood, even if he could get it to lay correctly.

Instead of indulging Pegasus further, Seto moved until the back of his legs pressed against the bed and sat down on it, scooting back by the window. When he was ready, he broke away from Pegasus's gaze and resumed staring at the wall.

As Pegasus followed his lead, setting the plate in his lap and humming intently to show he wasn't going anywhere, Seto mentally constructed the exact shade of green in Mokuba's bedroom.

He spoke again, probably nudging him to follow the mundane order, but he drowned out the voice by mapping the space on the wall between Mokuba's bookshelf and the posters that hung to the left, just over his TV.

It didn't take long for Pegasus to fold, which was worse than if he hadn't.

"If you don't want it, I'm taking it with me."

And he did without another word.