Author's Note: The poem here is a fragment of a longer one. If anybody is interested in seeing the full version, I'll post it. I am looking for suggestions for a new title, because it doesn't seem to fit. And, to clear up any confusion, I also write under the pen name of Hielo Warrenbeck. My real name is almost as weird as Caleigho and Hielo, and my last name is truly a mouthful.
To The Bitter End-
Of ghost and shadows, memories that haunted
The bitter aftermath of all I ever wanted
Tears I've wept in secret penance
Anguish I could not give more than a wince
Shadows weave their torpid path across the arching light
Stripping away all pretense-
Regardless of all that I have tried to hide-
And all that I have tried to make right-
Regret, and guilt, the beasts that grow teeth-
To mutilate the careless words-
Refracted from the yielding heart, now cold, and hard
Falling tears in all that was said, all that was heard-
Shattering the mirror, and leaving its shards
With teeth braced back in a futile snarl
Passing this useless time for but a while
Unable to make up my mind
If I should bother with a smile
Or tremble in loathing of what I may find-
The wounds we share, woven so deep-
Cutting to the bone, the marrow, the flesh-
Yet dancing light across this torpid imitation of sleep
And vanishes like my last breath-
Hielo Warrenbeck-
Mokuba jerked when he heard the beaconing sound of the limo gliding up the long path, sliding behind the towering oaks, and climbing the last stretch up
hill to the mansion's spiraling driveway. Rolland rose to his feet, faithfully watching the door, silent as a statue as he gave the youngest Kaiba a smile of
reassurance. Mokuba gave him a grateful smile in return, as he rose uncertainly to his feet, and forced himself to walk down the spiraling stairwell to greet
his brother.
It was truly an awkward situation for Yami, as he watched the driver smartly unlock the long, sleek trunk of the limo, and unfold the glittering, metallic
wheelchair, and was now waiting for Seto at the car door like a perverse throne.
There had been been nothing but terse, icy silence between Seto and Yami for the remainder of the ride. Seto had drawn himself up in a dismissing scowl
that started sliding into fear, and then outright torment the moment the mansion appeared. Yami kept his eyes riveted to the floor, not caring to invite any
more sarcasm, or bitter questions from Seto, but soon realized there would be none to be had, since the target of Seto's volitility was now his own shame.
It was unnerving to see the once icy, distant...almost inhuman CEO look so...afraid. Yami tactfully averted his eyes, and paid Seto no more heed.
To even attempt to assage the viciousness of Seto's guilt was impossible, not to mention unwise, given his irratic mood swings, and storming emotions.
Yami did not bother attempting to piece together what sort of pain must be curling in Seto's gut to make him tense so suddenly, or look so openly wounded.
But to see Seto in so much torment warrented saying something. Yami felt compelled.
"Seto." His name was forced out, almost unwillingly, as Seto wrenched his gaze away, to look at Yami, troubled. Seto quirked an eyebrow, summoned enough
smug veneer to continue.
"Yes?" Came the sarcastic answer, as Seto crossed his arms in a pitiful attempt at mimicking irritation. Inwardly, he trembled.
There was a deep, considering sigh from Yami, as he looked down, uncertain of how to continue. Awkwardly, he strung the words together, hoping they might
resinate without wounding even more, regardless of where the blame lay.
"What you did..." Seto flinched for a tortured moment before his face slid back the mask of cool, distaining disregard. But he said nothing.
Yami plunged onward, before he lost the nerve or the words. "It is not unforgivable."
Seto templed his forehead in his hands, head bowed, as if he were already condemned. With no sarcasm left to spew, no veneer to hide behind, he raised his sad,
weary eyes to Yami, so raw and naked in their anguish. Yami gulped that Seto had allowed him to see..
"It is if I can't forgive myself." Seto's voice- normally so silky and laced with confidence, was heart-breaking in its resignation, and flat delivery.
"Seto-" Yami's hand was raised in a futile desperate gesture, as Seto negated it with a desperate, futile gesture of his own.
"Don't." It was a cold, searing command, edged with sharp teeth, cutting them both to the core, leaving them open to bleed in their collective helplessness.
"There isn't a damn thing you can do to fix any of this, Yami, so don't even try." Kaiba's curt warning was emphasized by the harsh curl of pain in his lip as he forced himself forward to rise. Seto fought the urge to collapse, forced his torpid limbs to march to the chair, as he attempted to lower himself elegantly, in his old manner, only to
land with a humilated flop as his legs gave way beneith him. Yami heard the sharp intake of breath from the pain, the masterful way that Seto turned the sudden, stricken wince into a snarl, forced all traces of agony to fade to his characteristic anger with the world. Seto forced his spine to straighten in submission, giving no allowance to the tremoring fit that gripped every muscle, or the cloying weakness that was so infuriatingly visible to Yami.
Indeed, Yami looked at him, torn, clearly wanting to offer help, but restraining himself after seeing the wary, defiant, almost pleading glare of the CEO to keep away, leave him be, let him pretend...
Seto waved away the driver's attempt to push the wheelchair, irritably, and with a grunt, heaved the chair forward over the pavement, and wheeled himself up the path.
"Driver, if you'd be so gracious, please take Mr. Moto home. And as a token of my appreciation for helping Mokuba, make sure he and his family eat well tonight."
Seto rolled forward without a backward glance, and Yami found the car door shut with finality in his face.
The door was flung open, wide, but rather than Mokuba's expected jubilation, Seto's sibling could only manage a polite, strained, forced smile as he lifted flacid arms in
a token attempt at a hug. It was nothing of the fierce,loyal embrace that Seto had expected. Hell, none of this was what Seto expected.
Mokuba's eyes swept over Seto in wary examination, and his brow furrowed at his brother's strained hands against the rims of the wheel.
"Let me, Seto." It was a quiet command, broaching no room for argument, and Seto lurched backwards in suprise, both at the fact Mokuba did not wait for permission, and the sudden, brutal way his chair was propelled forward by Mokuba's forceful stride, and the biting silence.
"Mokuba, I can move myself." Seto barked out in irritated suprise, only to have the chair beneith him abruptly jerk to a halt. Seto was flung forward at the viciously sudden stop, and gripped the armrests to keep himself from falling out. He rounded on Mokuba with helpless fury, ready to roar at his brother's carelessness, but was silenced by the burning white of Mokuba's clenched face, and the eerie calm that settled over him with folded arms and distancing regard.
"Then do it, Seto." Mokuba dropped his arms from the chair, and stepped away, waiting. Seto visibly recoiled, wrenching his neck around to peer at his brother in suprise at the cold sarcasm. Seto's brow was furrowed in troubled confusion.
"Mokuba? What-"
"Are you going to wheel yourself, or am I, Seto?"
The rude interuption surpised Seto into silence.
Seto flinched as if he had been slapped, and Mokuba only glared down at him, shook his head in disgust, huffed the bangs away from his face.
"What is it going to be, Seto? Are you going to do this yourself, like you have everything else, or are you going to let me in and help you for once?"
Seto snarled in hurt suprise, "Why don't we quit debating about who the hell has the privledge of pushing this damn wheelchair, and you tell me what's really going on,
Mokuba?"
Mokuba grimaced as if he had tasted something disgusting. "Do you really want to know what is going on, Seto, or will I find you snarfing down more pills if it's too much for you to handle?"
Seto crumbled, as if Mokuba had lopped him off at the knees and left him bleeding...which, in a perverse way, he did.
"Would it have been easier for you if I had succeeded, Mokuba? Is that what you really want?" The icy whisper was just as cold from Seto's wound, to Mokuba's
shudder of involuntary pain. But, it was a dagger to Mokuba's heaving, clenched gut to see Seto bury his head in shaking hands, and rub his temples in helpless surrender.
"Either you forgave me, or you didn't. Either you forgive me now, or you don't. I'm not going to beg for something you're not going to give me, Mokuba. But, how much punishment do I have to have before you believe that I'm sorry?"
Seto sat back, and sighed in weary, resigned sorrow, before he looked up at Mokuba, his saphire eyes burning with so much pain, and loss, that Mokuba had to look away.
"It's not just the cancer that's breaking me, Mokuba." Seto whispered with a distainful shrug.
"And how much punishment do I have to endure from you pushing me for you to believe that I'm not going to break, Seto?" Mokuba's question was harsh from his jaws grinding together in restraining the sobs that were clawing at all his quivering instincts to surrender and scream and end this misery.
It was the agonizing, paralyzed wince that flitted across Seto's contrite features that almost broke him, right then. But, it vanished as Seto stiffened, furious.
"I wasn't trying to push you away, I was trying to protect you, damn it! I didn't want you getting sucked down in all this pain, pissing your life away because mine happens to be ending! I'm sorry if I'm handling this whole impending demise so poorly! I'm so fing sorry I don't have the wisdom in how to deal with any of this s right! I hope that when your time comes, Mokuba, you do a better job! Hell, maybe you can learn from me on what not to do when you find out you're dying!"
The rant had cost him dearly, as he hitched in pain, and wilted. Of all the damn times for the pain to act up. Seto choked down the whimper, as he sighed, trembling.
"Just leave me alone, Mokuba. This is too raw and fresh for us to do anything but scream at each other tonight."
Seto bit his lip, feeling his precious control erroding from the weight of those dark eyes glittering down at him with such piercing awareness.
"You're hurting again, aren't you?" Mokuba's quiet question was asked with more restrained curiosity than actual regard, as Seto fought the urge to shove him away, to stop the prying, the searching, the constant threat to his last bastian of pride.
"Leave it alone, Mokuba." Seto's voice was laced with the threat of sobs, as he slumped in anguish, his strength failing, the humiliation crawling up his spine, heating his cheeks in betraying flame, as he folded helpless arms over his bent body, and stared up at Mokuba.
"Just for tonight, leave it alone." His voice was so tortured, as he added the whispered "Please."
Mokuba sighed, wearily, a sad, accepting smile gracing his tired face. "I'll leave this alone, for tonight, Seto. But only for tonight. If you give me a moment, I'll get you a dose of your pain pills. But-" his eyes narrowed in warning. "I'm keeping the bottle with me."
Seto managed a tolerant smile. "Fine. But give me the maximum, if you don't mind." In the distraction of their ranting, neither had time to deal with the small pile of luggage that sat in a tidy arrangement by the door. Mokuba soon had both arms buried in the depths of the patent leather bag, rumaging for the bottle of pills, before he emerged with a triumphant smirk. He worked the lid off, and shook out three pills, with a flourish, neatly depositing them in Seto's waiting hand.
"Water?" Mokuba watched as Seto tilted his head back, and downed the pills with a swallow. "Not necessary. I've had practice in downing more than that."
Mokuba's eyebrows crinkled high on his forehead, before he shook his head, and snickered, nervously. "That is a very, very bad joke, Seto."
Seto smiled, wearily. "Yes, but I'd prefer bad jokes over useless tears. At least then some good would come out of this."
"Why did you do it, Seto?" Mokuba's sudden question hit him like a whiplash, and he stiffened, warily. "I thought we agreed to leave it alone, Mokuba." Seto grimaced at how close to a whine his retort sounded.
"You brought it up." Mokuba answered, with a raised eyebrow and a pointed huff, as he sat back with arms crossed.
"And this can't wait?"
Mokuba shook his head, grimly. "I think we've avoided talking about this long enough, Seto. I'm not asking you because I want to hurt you. But, it seems to me that maybe..." Mokuba sighed, shook his head, the tears rising again, "Maybe all this could have been avoided in the first place if you had just admitted that you were overwhelmed, and let somebody help you instead of just snapping and trying to end it all. I mean...you've always been so strong. I just can't understand what would be so bad that you'd rather die than face it. It's not like you, Seto."
Seto looked up at him, helpless, and furious at himself for being so. Couldn't Mokuba fathom how horrendous it was for him to see all of his life being slowly erroded, and the only certainty in all this was that it was going to get far worse? Exactly how in the world could he explain the numbing, crushing terror that gripped him when he comtemplated the end, no matter how much he alternated between his strange faith in God, and the sweet, rare moments of peace in all this turmoil? How much more was he going to pay for one stupid mistake?
"I'll try to explain it, if you promise to try and understand it.Deal?" Mokuba nodded, as he sat back on his haunches. Seto sighed, uncertain of where to begin. From the grim, resolute line that his lips twisted into, Mokuba knew that it was extremely awkward, probably humiliating for Seto to do this. He was never able to divulge his inner workings well, not even to Mokuba.
"Despite the evidence to the contrary, I actually planned it out. It wasn't just a blind, stupid act of desperation, but one deliberate act that was thought out, rehearsed, planned, and almost successful, Mokuba."
Mokuba worried his lower lip between his teeth, before asking, "But what exactly drove you to it, Seto? What finally broke you to the point that you decided that was the only thing left to be done?"
Seto sighed, tolerantly. "A little patience, please, Mokuba. I'm getting to that."
"You have to understand, Mokuba. There never was one defining point where I just broke down, or any single factor that drove me to do something so thoughtless. It was losing everything, it was being powerless, and forcing you to watch me die...It just rattled me to the core, the idea of being subjected to so much uncertain bull---- and not
having any option but to either go through it with nothing to help me, or choosing the ending on my own terms. I swear to you, Mokuba, I won't ever do anything like this again. I won't rob you of our time together, however limited it may be. I won't run from the truth again. I can't afford to. You deserve better than that from me."
Mokuba only wrapped Seto in an embrace of complete acceptance and forgiveness, murmuring in his brother's ear, "All my life, you've watched out for me, and helped me, Seto. For once, let me pay you back for some of that. I'm here for you, and I'm going to stand by you through this. I know that you're worried about what's going to happen afterwards...how I'll cope, and survive. But, Seto..." Mokuba gripped both of Seto's quivering shoulders between firm, but gentle hands, and lowered his head to meet his eyes in resolve.
"You need to understand that how I cope is my responsibility. I know that I'll get through it, because you gave me the strength to. Don't worry so much about what happens after all this is over. That's my responsibility, too. I don't know what the future holds for either one of us. It's not for us to know, and I don't think it's because God wants to torture you, or anything. I think it's so we don't live in so much useless fear of what we can't control. And I'm tired of being afraid, Seto."
Seto just stared at his younger brother, wondering how he had missed the fact that Mokuba was now a mature adult. He raised an eyebrow, blinked back touched tears.
"How the hell did you get to be so wise, Mokuba?" Mokuba merely smiled.