Author's Note: No, I do not "ship" this. Please read and take this for what it is. Thank you.

Disclaimer –"Yu-Gi-Oh!" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Takahashi Kazuki and any other related owners/distributors/producers. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters.

"The Definition of Family"
by DragonDancer5150

Chapter 10 – Through the Fire

Owww . . .

Bakura lay for a moment as he had fallen, feeling rough, cool stone beneath his cheek. Stone?

He shifted up to his elbows, eyes peering into the darkness. His sight adjusted instantly, which surprised him until he realized why – it was because he was not utilizing normal vision.

Did . . . did I make it, then? Am I in the Puzzle?

He lay in a dim corridor of some kind, a stonework hall with a door on either side of him. He pushed to his knees, contemplating the two doors. On his left, the door was unmarked but painted a bright, cheery yellow, the interlocking brickwork around it smooth and clean. From behind that door, Bakura thought he could sense a slow, even heartbeat. Too slow for Bakura's comfort, to be perfectly honest. But it was the door on his right that really demanded attention.

Bakura was no longer unfamiliar with soul rooms. He too had a corridor similar to this one within his own heart, and a very similar door across from his room. As with his own, the walls on this side of the hall were comprised of the same interlocking brickwork as the other side, but they were raised all along the height and length as if great veins or tree roots ran every which way just beneath the surface. The door was similarly veined, an iron-bound portal of heavy wood with a Horus Eye dominating the upper half.

And from within came the muffled cacophony of agony and terror that had been pounding at him since that first cry for help.

Bakura climbed rather shakily to his feet, hesitating to reach for the door's handle. So much pain and fear in there! It frightened him. But then he remembered whose fear he was sensing. Yami's. And with the slow heartbeat of the other door, Bakura could only guess that Yugi was completely unconscious, likely under anesthesia, if he were indeed undergoing some kind of surgery. Which meant that Yami was in there all alone to bear the pain of what was being done to their body.

Bakura shuddered. He had not known it in those times – and for that, at least, he supposed he could be thankful to his other half – but, as he had regained memories and knowledge, he knew too that anything done to the body could be felt by both souls. Scratch that – would be, unless the consciousness of one was being blocked by the other. Bakura rubbed his arms, recalling after the fact the agony of standing in the blast of Osiris's attack during the Battle City Semi-Finals.

Another whimpering sob drew Bakura's attention . . . and helped harden his resolve. No one, not even Yami – especially not Yami! – should have to face this terrible ordeal alone. Dark Bakura had given him the nudge he had needed to get here quickly, before the others could suspect either of them and draw away, "protecting" the Puzzle. And now that he was here, he owed his friend. If he could help ease the other's suffering at all, then he would do so!

It struck him that he was likely the only one who could . . .

Squaring his shoulders, he laid his fingers gingerly across the handle of the door and let the energies of his intention, his questioning offer, seep through that soft touch to the consciousness on the other side.

He felt vague recognition, a swell of subconscious relief and welcome, and he was in. It was not that he stepped through the door – such a concept limited one to the physical, while this was a psychological landscape governed by far different rules – but that, with a thought, he simply was on the other side. He glanced around the room, eyes taking in the impossible architecture without really seeing it. At the question of his heart, the one he sought appeared before him.

"Ah! Y-yami-san!!" Bakura dropped to his knees, gathering into his arms the trembling body of his friend, who lay curled up at his feet in a tight fetal position. With the touch of his own soul's energy pattern so directly to Yami's, Bakura choked as Yami's agony tore through him, more powerfully than before. But with it, too, came something else.

"Dammit! Pay attention!" "Y-you're hurt pretty bad." "Head wounds bleed an alarming amount even if they're only small cuts." "I'm a trauma nurse with Domino Medical Clinic . . . There's been an accident."

I heard a gunshot.

An ambulance, perhaps? . . . Honda. It has to be.

. . . never been in so much pain . . . has to be Yugi's surgery . . . surgeries could last hours . . .

M-MERCY!!

Sobs choked Bakura's throat even as the body in his arms shifted, eyes cracking open, blinking in their attempt to focus, the consciousness struggling to return from an even deeper reserve into which it had withdrawn in an attempt to escape the torture. "B-bakur-ra . . . ?"

Bakura felt bad in a way, that his presence had pulled Yami back to the "surface" like this. He plastered a grin on his face, ignoring the tears streaking his cheeks. "Yes . . . it's me, Yami-san. Y-you're . . . you're going to be all right." It sounded so hollow and false even in his own ears, but he could not think of anything else to say.

Yami writhed in his arms, his breathing choked and shallow, but he managed a small nod. "H-how . . . " His voice failed him, even as Bakura could feel him trying to push back the agony and fear, to put up his strong front in the presence of another, to hide his weakness as he always had to. Bakura even sensed that Yami would have pulled from his embrace if only he had the strength to do so. He watched as Yami swallowed and tried again. "H-how . . . how did you . . . ?"

"Get in here?" Bakura schooled from his features the frown of concern that wanted to express itself. Poor Yami-san, he thought. No matter what the other spirit ever went through, he always had to be so strong, to betray no weakness whatsoever. Suddenly, Bakura wondered how many other times Yami had suffered and no one had ever been the wiser. The thought saddened him deeply, and he put on another grin to hide it. "Would you believe Dark Bakura?" He felt the body stiffen ever further in his arms, and he wrapped them all more around his friend, washing him with comforting intentions. "No! No, no! I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that! It's okay! You don't have to fight, not this time . . . " More tears came to his eyes. "You don't have to fight. I promise. Just try to relax, Yami-san. It's okay. I've got you now. You're not alone anymore. L-listen . . . " He licked his lips, which were dry with shock and reaction. "There's a bunch of people outside of here, in the waiting room for Orthopedics at the clinic by the bay. I'm pretty sure Yugi-kun's completely under the anesthesia. He's not aware of anything at all." He had not thought about it until just then, but suddenly he knew that had been a deep concern of Yami's. "Jonouchi-kun, Anzu . . . Honda-kun has the Puzzle at the moment . . . Yugi-kun's mom and grandpa . . . Voice is out there with them right now, but it's okay." And it really was, at least for now. If he turned his attention outward for a moment, he could actually follow a little of what was happening outside and suspected he could further strengthen that connection with a little more concentration, though he risked pulling himself out of Yami's soul room and back into his own body if he were not careful. "He's just manning our body so I can be in here with you. He's even managing to be half-way civil!" He forced a soft laugh.

Yami's grimace probably would have been a grin if he had not been in such unbelievable pain. "T-that's . . . a-a surp-prise – !!" The rest of the comment degraded instantly and without warning into a sobbing shriek as Yami bucked suddenly, head throwing back as his arm jerked in an unnatural way, and Bakura could all but feel the bones in his own arm being pulled apart as if to be reset.

Bakura sobbed, scared by the pain and the helplessness to stop it. Oh, gods . . . Yami-san, how can you bear this?! But that was it, was it not? Yami was not very well bearing this, not well at all. And was that not what Bakura had come in here to help with?

He swallowed, then pulled Yami more fully into his lap, scooting them both a few feet so that Bakura could put his back to the door of the soul room. He knew that he was going to need that support. He could sense Yami trying to pull in mentally, to protect Bakura from feeling any more of what was happening than could be helped, and he shook his head, tears dripping down his nose as he tried to glare at the Duelist in his arms. "Yami-san, stop that! Stop trying to block me. Open up to me, darn it! That's what I came in here for! Share with me! M-maybe I can help take the edge of off this . . . " The thought terrified him, that he would willingly open himself to feeling ever more directly the surgery that was torturing his friend, but he owed Yami so much that he could not in his heart justify doing any less. He switched to another, more familiar honorific to help make his point. "P-please, Yami-kun. Please let me help . . . "

Yami shook his head, a jerky motion further emphasized by his deep trembling. "N-no!" He swallowed, fighting to find a center in the agony, a focus from which to make some kind of mental stand, and it grieved Bakura to sense it. He must have so much experience with doing stuff like that. "N-no, B-bakura. Y-you don't . . . don't w-want this. G-go. I-I'll . . . I'll be all right."

"Of course you will be." The quiet anguish in his own tone surprised Bakura, but he plowed on anyway. "You always are, no matter what. I know that from Yugi-kun . . . but I also know that even Yugi-kun isn't allowed to help you the way you need to let him sometimes." He sat Yami up a bit, leaning the other's head into his shoulder the way he remembered his mother doing to him as a child, comforting him after one of his nightmares. He was sure Yami was unaware of his own tucking in, taking subconscious solace from the embrace . . . and that Yami would pull away the instant he realized it. Or try to. Bakura determined in that moment that he would not allow it, and right now Yami was too hurt and exhausted to manage to overcome him. "You're not a weak person – not now, not ever. You're incredibly strong . . . but it's okay to relent just a little from time to time, to take a break and let someone else be the rock just for a moment." He was not sure Yami was hearing him, curled up and shaking the way he was, turned almost completely inward again. He petted carefully at Yami's unruly locks, gently combing through with his fingers the way his mother used to do for him. He felt Yami relax just a bit.

And then, Yami sobbed once, a soft, choked whimper of a sound . . . and again . . . and finally turned even further into Bakura, a hand clutching at his shirt. Bakura grinned in spite of himself and the situation. Yami's thick walls of defensiveness, protectiveness, and stubborn pride were eroding quickly in the warmth of the arms embracing him, offering the comfort and protection he so desperately needed right now. That's it . . . let go. You're safe. I've got you . . . just like you've always had me, and everyone else around you. Time to rest and let someone else be the strong one. Not that he had any illusions about his own strength, but right now he was all Yami had. It's going to be okay, Yami-kun. I promise. Just let me in. Let me bear this with you. You don't have to face this alone.

Another strangled noise, and then Yami was sobbing uncontrollably as a dam seemed to break. Bakura cracked his head back against the door behind him as Yami's agony slammed through him with the greatest force yet. Oh, gods!! Bakura found himself barely keeping his head above proverbial water as the agony washed over and through him like a deluge, running hot and cold through him all at once. It scrambled his senses, and he panted, fighting to breathe. Is this the true extent of what you've been facing, Yami-kun?!

Y-yes . . . I-I'm s-sorry . . . I-I . . . should not h-have . . .

No! No, it's . . . it's okay . . . I-I just . . . I wasn't prepared . . .

Words were no longer necessary, not as the mouth speaks them. The two spirits could sense one another's intentions, "hear" the thoughts carried on currents of pain. It was awkward at first, but quickly they found a balance with one another, each sharing the agony and, by doing so, taking the edge off of the other. In that resonance, the pain seemed to die down to a more tolerable level – still torturous, but Bakura felt Yami begin to regain more of his senses, able to think more clearly than he had been able to do for some time. With it, Yami's fear calmed as well.

I-I'm sorry . . .

Apologize again, Yami-kun, and I'll sic Voice on you. And he'll enjoy it. You know he will.

Bakura's attempt at humor was rewarded with a low chuckle, then an exhausted sigh. Thank you . . . Bakura-kun.

Bakura grinned, genuine if stressed with pain. I'm glad to be here. I really am. You're my friend, Yami-kun. You'd have done the same for me. He tightened his embrace around the body in his arms, one that felt suddenly very slim and frail, more so than his own, in fact. He grimaced and pushed that impression away even as he was rewarded with the feeling of Yami letting himself settle a little further still, nesting himself in this rare comfort.

Just for a moment . . . just one more moment . . .

Bakura could hear the litany he was not meant to know as Yami tried without success to fight the lull of the embrace that cradled him, to keep himself from being "weak" even now . . . even though both of them knew it was only doing him good. Bakura shook his head. One moment or a thousand . . . I'm here for as long as you need me. It's okay . . . He found himself starting to rock a little as his fingers combed through Yami's hair again. Try to get some sleep, Yami-kun . . . That would likely be impossible – both of them could still feel the work being done on Yugi's body – but if Yami could at least get a bit of rest, restore his psyche from this trauma, he would be in far better shape to handle things later. No one's going to hurt you. Well, aside from what the doctors were doing . . . No one's going to threaten you, Yami-kun. I'm here, and Voice is just outside. So are Jonouchi-kun, Honda-kun, Anzu, Mutou-Grandfather and a lot of other people. Let us take care of you for once. It's about time, don't you think? Do try to relax and get some rest, please. You're safe. I swear it.

Tucked against his chest, Yami nodded mutely, thoroughly exhausted even though the ordeal was far from over. It did seem as if the worst of the surgery was past, though – nothing major had felt yanked, broken, or otherwise manipulated for some minutes – and Bakura rubbed a hand softly up and down Yami's arm as the other curled up, slipping into a fitful lower level of consciousness.

Yes . . . there . . . there you go. Rest well, my friend.

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