Seto eyed his roommate with a warily raised eyebrow, but he halted his sarcasm long enough to listen to him. He did not flinch at Troy's prophetic words of "somebody else paying the price." The truth was viciously clear about that. Seto grimaced at the sudden, cruel clarity that he had drawn that conclusion several times, already, and had done nothing with the painful truth. Troy narrowed his eyes, and then sighed, with a resigned shake of his head.

"Please accept my apologies for the lecture. Eventually, you'll figure it out, or stay incarcerated or worse until you do."

Troy looked vaguely sad and disgusted as he turned to his institutional bed and made a distracting attempt to put some order to his side of the room. Behind him, he heard Seto's uneasy movements as he slid into one of the chairs on his side.

"I nearly killed Yami Moto when I wrecked my car. He almost died, and there's still a possibility that he won't make it. And even if he does recover, there's no way in hell he can go back to a normal life. I don't even know if he'll be able to walk. "Seto recited grimly, as his lip twisted in his teeth and he folded his arms. Troy's eyebrows shot upward as Seto wearily scrubbed his face, and left his palm on his forehead for a long moment.

"Do you still feel so terrible about what you've done, now?"

There was only silence as Troy finally shook his head, and answered, softly, "No. I don't. But I *am* sorry for Yami Moto. From what little media coverage I've seen of his games, he seems to be a decent person."

Seto scowled at that. "Decent or not, he didn't deserve what happened to him. What I did to him."

Troy hastily raised a placating palm. "Look, I'm in no way saying that he did. I'm not even saying that you're not responsible for what you did to him. You are. The thing is, you can't do anything to change it now, or else you would have, right?"

Seto nodded with a puzzled frown. "Of course I would! Wouldn't you?"

Troy gave him a sad smile. "I think we all would, but we can't. That's why it's perfectly futile to lament your regrets, or continue punishing yourself for your mistakes. You made them, you can't take them back, you can only do what you can now to make this right, and move on. When you figure out how, let me know."

Seto sat back. "When you get out of this nuthouse, what do you plan on doing?"

Troy hitched a shoulder, and sighed with resignation. "I hope to get married and be a good father. That's all, really. You?"

Seto answered quietly, "I'll do whatever is necessary to never come back here."

Troy snorted at that. "If you ever hope to get out of here, you need to start working the program. That little stunt you pulled got you a few hours in the concrete room. If you can't even do group therapy without a hissy fit, what credence do you have in convincing anybody you can be a functioning adult without more inpatient treatment?"

Seto snarled back, "I was a functioning adult before this, Troy. It was one mistake, not the life-time pattern that you seem to be enslaved to."

Troy coldly answered. "No offense, but for my supposed life-time pattern of drinking, I've yet to succeed in nearly killing somebody. Do you really expect anybody here to believe you when you claim that you're not an alcoholic? That you've always been rationally sober, except for one night where you decide to cast aside all restraint and drive drunk? You're Seto Kaiba. If you weren't some sort of closet alcoholic, then what the hell are you doing here?"

They were facing each other now, the volume of the heated exchange quickly rousing unwanted attention. Seto shuddered inwardly at the loud bang of the door being flung open, and colliding into the wall. Troy shut his eyes and shook his head when the male techs came in, and halted, eyeing both suspiciously. There was only silence as Seto suddenly noticed his and Troy's combat position.

Raising his searing eyes to Troy, Seto backed away to his side of the room, and gracefully sat back in his chair. Turning to the techs, he forced the sincerity to dribble through his words.

"I apologize for causing a disturbance. My roommate and I were having a debate that got more heated then the situation called for. It was my fault, and it will not happen again."

The techs exchanged dubious glances, as Troy's jaw fell open in surprise. One of them turned to Troy, who hastily worked his face into a masterfully sincere expression. "Is that the story, Troy? You alright?"

Troy looked at Seto, and nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm fine, thank you."

Seto did not return the glower they gave him, though it took all of his self-restraint. He was used to exchanging snipe per snipe, not apologizing and groveling like this.

Troy watched as the techs left the room, and only allowed himself to fall into a relaxed slump after they were gone. He turned to Seto, in surprise, as Seto only sat back, peeved.

"What? You want to go visit the concrete room?"

Troy gave him a troubled look, shook his head, and said no more.

Yugi and Solomon were huddled together and helpless as they sat in the small hospital café. They were hunched over the small round table, their drinks remaining untouched. Yugi uneasily fidgeted, and kept eying the clock to see when Yami's requested hour was over so he could go back to the room. Solomon flicked a glance at the clock, sighed, and gently pat Yugi's wrist.

"I know it's difficult, Yugi, but it's best to just let Yami be for a bit."

Yugi frowned uneasily at his grandfather. "I just don't understand, Grandpa. I want to be there for him to help him through this, but I don't know how."

Solomon gave Yugi a sad smile, as he sat back. "I am sure that Yami knows that you are there for him, Yugi. Try to understand things from his point of view for a moment. He's been through quite an ordeal that's left him suddenly dependent and a lot of pain. I'm sure that's a very difficult thing for him to accept. Yami's doing the best he can, Yugi. So are you."

Solomon smiled warmly at his grandson. "I'm very proud of you, Yugi. I know that this hasn't been easy on you, either."

Yugi forced an obligated smile in answer, before it wilted on his lips. "Grandpa?" His eyes slid to Solomon's as he took a distancing sip.

"Do you really think that Yami's going to be alright?"

Solomon's lip twisted, before he finally answered, reluctantly. "I know that Yami has a very long road ahead of him."

There was a pause before Solomon set his glass down. "But, I also know that Yami is a very tough young man who has already overcome far too much to simply give up now. Speaking of which-" Solomon glanced at the clock, "It's time we head back to Yami's room."

Yugi tossed the rest of his drink into the trash can, and shot to his feet. At his grandfather's warning look, Yugi forced himself to slow his pace from the mad bolt to the slow walking. The last thing that Yami needed was anybody glomping on him.

Solomon gave him a small nod of understanding, and together, the Motos made their way back to the hospital room.

Yami must have been watching the clock, because he was sitting up on the bed, and waiting for them, his face serene and unrevealing. Yugi quirked an eyebrow, questioningly, and scowled outright when he saw the shimmer of tears in Yami's eyes. Yami gave him a small smile of reassurance, and a shake of his head.

"I'm much better, Yugi." Yami answered the unasked question with a leveling stare.

"Will you be having the surgery, Yami?" Solomon's question was met with surprise as Yami grimly nodded.