Well, here we are, chapter 11. I'd never actually thought I'd make it this far with a fic! . And, well, I have nothing to say, no new notes to add or anything, so onto the thank yous!

Chicary: Yup yup, you've got Bakura pegged very well, my dear! And psychology is fun; it lets you mess around with our favorite bishies' heads! MWHAHAHA! .

Menacing Dwarf: I hope this story does surprise you; I've tried to put twists and turns in it so it isn't too predictable!

Inuyasha0001: Yesh, it is sad! Vieve le angst!

Black Charmgirl: I just love playing with the characters' heads! It's so much fun messing them up, expecially Yami; he's always so proud and strong in alot of fics, so it's really fun tearing him apart! O and death fics are always fun! ...and sad...

Renanimeangel: Yay, plushies and sweets! O

Hikari Ookami: Will Ryou live or die? I've already addressed this one a few chapters back in the author's notes, but I still like to play with the suspense!

Yugi is my one and only: Sorry to hear about your grandmother! When I was in highschool, one of my uncles died from a brain tumor. And thanks for the offer; if I do need help, I shall e-mail you, but so far I've got things under control. .

Kodainjin Hiei: I'm glad you're enjoying the story; here's another chapter for ya!

Cloud 1 3 5: I'm glad this is emotion-stirring! I try to make it very emotional (I actually got myself all depressed as I was writing this chapter lol!) I just hope I didn't make the characters OOC (or at least believeable lol...hehe...)

SnowIce: Things getting better? Now where would the fun be in that? .

Ramen II: Aww, don't hate Isis too much; Malik and Merik do need help. There isn't too much I can do to the Ishtars: they're already crazy enough as it is! .

Chibifan127: Well, here's another chapter, so some of your questions might be answered! .

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Yami was curled uncomfortably in a chair by the head of Ryou's bed, and Yugi was snuggled to his chest. The room was dim and quiet save for the hissing of Ryou's ventilator and the whirring and clicking of the other life support machines hooked to him. Yami was asleep, his arms loose around Yugi's little body, tears still trembling on his thick lashes.

Yugi blinked, not sleepy, but he didn't have the energy to move, either. He'd dosed off for a bit when Yami first moved them to the chair, but now, he couldn't do much of anything except stare vacantly at Ryou's sunken, empty face or at the silent wall. He was confused and sad, but his tears had run themselves dry. Yugi didn't understand, didn't like, Bakura at all. Bakura was trouble; he was bad news. And Ryou....he was dying before his very eyes. One of his best friends in the world lay dying before him. At any moment, Ryou's soul could slip from between his dry, cracked, partly open lips and leave a cold, stiff corpse, fresh food for the worms.

Already Yugi could see the body decomposing before his very eyes, see Ryou's name carved in stone crowning a fresh mound of dirt. The littlest Motou whimpered, one shaking hand coming up to cover his trembling lower lip. No, he couldn't think such thoughts; he wouldn't give up hope until Yami was dressing him all in black and they were watching as Ryou's casket was lowered into the ground.

Yugi whimpered again and closed his eyes, wishing he had the energy to shake head fiercely, to banish these morbid thoughts.

"Yugi?"

Yugi's head popped up at the soft, scratchy voice. "Ryou?"

& & &

Bakura stalked like a silent phantom throughout the sick smelling halls, head lowered and fists jammed into the pockets of his baggy jeans. He felt numb and detached. He should be a boiling pot of emotions over Ryou, over Malik and Merik. He should feel sad at least. But all he felt was nothing. He wasn't happy, he wasn't sad; he didn't even feel like vandalizing anything or knicking anything from the gift shop. He felt like an empty, black void, lost in the nothingness inside himself. He was cold, colder than Kaiba could ever be. At least that spoiled brat had his withering disdain, but Bakura didn't even have his hatred any more.

He growled, fists clenching, one hand ruthlessly crushing the candy bar in his pocket, which had begun to melt from his body heat. He would have punched the wall, kicked it, maybe even smashed a picture like Oni had, but he couldn't muster the energy. Bakura snorted in disgust with himself, veered sharply to the left around a corner, then ended up in the corridor leading to Ryou's room. He was passing the nurse's station when he heard angry, whispered voices in a conversation that was meant to be private. Bakura wouldn't have cared, except someone mentioned Ryou's room number- and had his immediate attention. Most of the useful information Bakura had gleamed from life, he'd learned by eavesdropping, and this was no exception.

"Do you have any idea how much it will cost to correct these papers and legal statements? All because of your sloppy hand writing. The patient in room 313 A is a middle-aged female in a coma from head trauma; the patient in 813 A is a juvenile male with leukemia. You had just better hope that none of the families find out and press charges- or your first day here will be your last." The head nurse of the intensive care unit was scolding a fidgeting, flinching, new young nurse.

Bakura's knees almost gave way, and his head was spinning. He had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing on the floor. Ryou wasn't in a coma, but then why had he been so still, so unresponsive? His hikari was heavily drugged, medication constantly being poured into him; he must have been in an exhausted, drug induced sleep. Bakura almost felt like laughing, the same insane laughter as Malik. A dry half sob, half laugh escaped his throat as the relief faded; Ryou may not have been in a coma, but he was still dying.

Before the yami could compose himself and become angry at the hospital staff for the mix up, before he could go berserk and take his emotional hurricane out on them, a soft, trembling voice called to him. " 'Kura? Jou's taking us home; he's done visiting with Shizuka; she's getting her eye operation tomorrow, and- and w-we're leaving..."

Yami was shaking a little, holding Yugi tightly and looking at the ground, Jou's arms wrapped around them both. The blonde haired boy was obviously scared of Bakura, but nonetheless held Yami and Yugi protectively.

Bakura's eyes narrowed and he began to growl. Yami flinched and pressed himself closer to Jou. Yugi shuddered, his arms wrapped tightly around Yami's neck as if he could wedge himself between Yami and Bakura, blocking Bakura out of their lives. Yugi wanted Ryou in his life, but not Ryou's violent, hostile tempered yami.

At Yami's flinch, Bakura's snarling ceased and his eyes widened. He remembered holding Yami like Jou was, feeling that soft, warm body in his own arms. Now, Yami was recoiling from his touch, curling into that damned mutt. Bakura's dark eyes narrowed again, directing a malevolent look of pure hatred at Jou, who gulped and backed away, but his arms tightened around Yami and Yugi, and he gave Bakura an afraid but defensive glare.

There was tension between all four of them, Yugi looking at the floor and clinging to Yami, keeping his back to Bakura, Yami frozen as if he was torn what to do, Jou afraid and on his guard, Bakura looking ready and willing to kill Jou with glee. No one said anything, save for Bakura starting to growl again. He cracked a knuckle, Jou took another step back, and Yami nuzzled Jou's shoulder with his cheek.

Then Jou, Yami and Yugi were gone, yet Bakura still stood there tense for several seconds, his growling slowly dying down like an offensive wolf's. He looked in the direction they had gone down the hall, snorted in disgust, turned sharply on his heel and headed for an opposite exit.

Bakura had almost reached the wide double doors that led to the outside world, which looked wet from the rain, huge, and lonely. He glanced once over his shoulder then headed past the long, unoccupied reception desk. A huge plastic pot with a big, waxy leafed, exotic plant had been shoved in a corner by the long row of heavy double glass and steel doors. As Bakura shoved one of the doors open, he heard a sob and his head jerked sharply; he caught a fleeting glimpse of Malik on his knees in Oni's arms, crying, his face buried in her neck, tears dripping down the skull decal on her hoodi, one hand fisted tightly in her copper hair, the other in black cloth. Her chin was atop his golden head; she looked thoroughly bewildered, as if she didn't know what she was doing or how she'd come to be there.

Only when Bakura was out in the pouring rain and seeing Yami's sad, tear-stained face staring at him from the foggy window of a bus, did he shudder and allow some of his tears to fall, hidden by the cold rain.

& & &

Yami stood shivering in the kitchen, a trembling and sniffing Yugi in his arms. They were both damp from the rain, though Yugi was coughing more than Yami was. Yami had held him tightly all the way home, rubbing Yugi's chilled flesh, trying to get some warmth back into his small limbs, ever since they'd gotten off the bus. Jou had walked them home, then had gone home himself, refusing to stay after telling Yami to get him and Yugi warmed up, then to take some Tylenol and cough syrup, then head to bed.

Right now Yami didn't know what to do. He was used to always being the strong one that everyone could depend on, always knowing what to do, when and how to do it, always there to look after Yugi. But now, he was so strung out, had his emotions pulled into so many directions, it was like a rubber band had snapped inside him and he could no longer hold himself together..

All he could do was hold Yugi and stare with watery crimson eyes at another note from Grandpa. Grandpa, too, was used to Yami always having everything under control. Though Yami was still a teenager himself, he was mature for his years, just as Yugi was young for his, so Grandpa unthinkingly gave Yami more responsibility than he should have. Normally, Yami could bear it; he'd taken care of Yugi for so long, he was used to it. But now, he needed help himself....

"Why? Grandpa, why can't you put us before the museum, for once? We...I....need you...." Yami whispered softly, tears falling down his cheeks and into Yugi's tousled, wet hair. Grandpa was at the museum, where he was a head coordinator. He'd been called in by Isis, a fellow head coordinator and Egyptologist, because she was having trouble with a new display and needed his help.

& & &

Sugoroku was surprised, and a bit upset, when Jouncouchi Katsuya called the office's private telephone line. He didn't know how Yugi's delinquent friend had gotten the number; most likely he'd nicked it one time when he'd been over visiting Yugi, but either way, the blonde teen had been very upset, angry even, when he'd given the elderly man an urgent call for him to return home.

Even as he sat in the back of the taxi heading towards home, he couldn't believe that Yami needed him. Yami was a very proud, independent boy, never needing help and not admitting it when he did. Yami had been so collected, so calm outwardly when Yugi had fallen down the stairs and injured his back. He'd been more reactive and in control of the situation than Sugoroku himself had been. Throughout Yugi's injury and recovery, Yami had been the steady, level headed one. Sugoroku never once had seen Yami cry, had no idea that Yami had been hiding his tears from him, from the world.

His disbelief was shattered when he came home to an unlocked door to find Yugi tucked in bed, Yami slumped on the floor at his side. Though they had changed into dry clothes, their skin was flushed and clammy, and their eyes were glassy, and they occasionally coughed. They were starting to get sick.

Sugoroku stared at his grandsons, then sighed and slumped against the doorframe. He was getting to old to care for the two of them, especially when one of them was an invalid. He had one year left at the museum before he retired, leaving the young Isis fully in charge of the Egyptian department, and he wanted to spend his last years in quiet, peace and solitude.

He'd already raised Yugi's mother by himself when his wife had walked out on him, then had raised Yugi since he was two and his mother, who had gotten pregnant her senior year of high school, had died of cancer, then Yami entered their lives, and now he had two half-grown children to raise. But Yami was strong and sure, able to take care not only of himself, but Yugi as well, leaving the elderly man to work his usual long days at the museum then pursue his own hobbies and interests afterwards. Sugoroku was used to providing the necessities for the hikari and his yami; paying the bills, putting food on the table, giving them each an allowance, etc. But now....as he looked at them, he realized he had been emotionally short changing them.

"...'Andpa?" Yugi's eyes were partially open, his eyelids feeling unusually heavy and his voice thick with mucus.

"Shh. I'm here. I've got you, both of you." He came over and touched Yami and Yugi on their heads, stroking their slightly damp hair. He would have bent down and gathered them in a hug, but the arthritis in his knees was painful, and made the joints especially stiff on damp, rainy days.

& & &

Jou had gone home to an empty house, called Yugi's grandfather, then hung up, sat staring at the TV for half an hour, bored, then got up, checked the empty fridge, and went back to Yugi's, this time smart enough to bring an umbrella.

He'd found Surgoroku trying to get Yugi undressed and into a tub of hot bathwater, but the arthritis in the old man's joints made moving and lifting a body even as light as Yugi's painful, so Grandpa happily let Jou take over. Jou, used to seeing Yami take care of Yugi, had no trouble undressing him.

When it came to undressing Yami, however, Jou was highly uncomfortable. Yami helped him a bit, but the boy was so listless, just staring numbly at nothing. He'd been quiet like that since Jou had fond him and Yugi in Ryou's hospital room. Yami had grown even more withdrawn since their run in with Bakura, and had been unresponsive on the bus ride and short walk home.

"Yami, come one." Jou tugged on the naked boy's arm, hauling him to his feet, surprised by how light he was. Yami stumbled and tripped, Jou catching him. Awkwardly, he pulled him to the tub, trying not to let their bodies touch too much or look at Yami more than he had too. Yami, for his part, seemed unaware of what was going on.

Once Yami was settled into the water, Jou went back for Yugi. He'd just picked him up when the phone rang, then Grandpa stuck his head into the bedroom just as Jou stood up with Yugi wrapped in a towel. "Hey, Jou, since you're here, would you mind watching Yugi –and Yami- while I run to the museum for a bit? Isis is having trouble again, we never finished getting that mess straightened out and I still have a few hours left on my shift; I left money for some pizza or whatever for you guys...."

Jou really wasn't listening until he heard the mention of pizza, so at once his growling stomach agreed, Grandpa was back to work again, and Jou was left to care for a half asleep, feverish Yugi and his spaced out, feverish Yami.

tbc....

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yes, yes, it's the hated, evil, tbc sign; could be worse; it could say "owari", which means end, and the story would be over; with tbc you at least know more's on the way! .

and...as always, review? pretty please?

(pokes yami )

yami: (big chibi eyes) please? review?