Mokuba Kaiba had found himself wondering many times what death would feel like.

Would it be a painful, agonizing thing that seemed to last an eternity before it was done? Or would it be something less scary- a simple loosening of the shackles that bound his soul to his body? Often times he found himself waffling between the two. The prospect of death, in whatever form it came in, didn't terrify him as much as the thought of what his death would do to his brother.

For his entire life he'd had the possibility of death looming over him like a shadow that couldn't be eradicated by the sun. After so many kidnappings, and so many brushes with illness, he'd made his peace with death. He understood that it could take him whenever it chose, and he was okay with that. But what he wasn't okay with was it separating him from Seto. Death itself did not frighten him. Death separating him from his big brother did.

He wasn't sure if he believed in an afterlife after this world, but if there was one he knew his parents would be there waiting for him. And though that would be good, it wouldn't be complete. He and Seto went together like two peas in a pod. No world, earthly or otherwise, was complete without his big brother at his side.

He didn't mind his disease killing him. He'd lived with the idea so long that it didn't frighten him in the least. But it was killing his brother too, and that was something he couldn't handle. Even if Seto never showed it outwardly, he knew. He saw it in Seto's eyes. The fear that could never be wiped away. He knew how much his brother was suffering because of him, and it broke his heart. But there was nothing he could do about it except hope that he would get better as his brother had said he would.

Now, he lay in his hospital bed, listening to his brother rhythmically tap at the keys on his laptop. He could tell, despite that, that Seto was watching him. Big brother was always watching over him- of that he was always sure. Much as he wanted to leave his brother to his work, he needed to talk to him even more.

"Seto?" He asked softly.

Instantly, the elder Kaiba shut his laptop. "What is it, Mokuba?"

"Could you… Could you hold me for a while? Like when we were in the orphanage?"

Seto blinked a moment, clearly surprised. Mokuba almost thought he'd say no. But when he got up and Climbed into Mokuba's bed, he was mercifully proven wrong. Mokuba relaxed immensely as he felt his brother's strong arms around him. He turned to face his brother.

"Do you remember the promise you made me that first night at the orphanage?" He asked.

"Which one?" Seto asked. There had been a lot of those.

"That you and I would always tell each other everything because we were all each other has?"

Seto nodded. "I remember."

Mokuba took in a deep breath, before saying what had been on his mind for a while. "I'm not scared of dying, Seto. I'm more scared of what will happen to you if I do."

Seto tensed for a moment- Mokuba could feel it- before he gathered his little brother in his arms.

"You're not going to die, Mokuba. So nothing is going to happen to me."

Mokuba looked up at his brother with the wisdom of someone ten times his age. "Seto, not talking about it doesn't mean it won't happen. I know you don't want to talk about it, but we need to."

Seto swallowed. "I… I can't think like that, Mokuba. It's too much…"

"Then I'll talk and you listen. Okay?"

Seto nodded.

"Seto, I've been living with this since I can remember. There hasn't been a time I can think of where I haven't had that possibility hanging over my head. I'm not scared of it, because I've made my peace with it. But I know you haven't, and that scares me. You can't keep pretending that this won't happen, Seto. Otherwise when it does it'll hit you twice as hard. I don't want you to give up the life you worked so hard to give us because I'm gone. I want you to do what you always do and keep fighting."

Seto had to fight back tears from his eyes. "I don't think I can." He said softly. "Because losing you means losing my reason for fighting."

"You won't lose me, Seto. You can't lose me. Even if I'm gone I'll still be there in your head, talking to you. Just because I'm not physically there doesn't mean I'm not there at all. Do you remember my first day of school, and how I was scared to go because I was afraid I'd miss you?"

Seto nodded. He couldn't forget that.

"Do you remember what you told me?"

"That if you looked behind you, I'd still be there."

"You stayed in the back of the limo until I got inside school, and every time I looked back, you were there. It's the same thing now. Anytime you look back, I'll always be there."

Seto felt his emotions trying to overwhelm him and had to beat them back down with a stick. "It's not the same as having you beside me, Mokuba."

"It's more important that I'm behind you, Seto. It's the only way you'll keep moving forward."

"I don't think I can without you."

"There is no without, Seto. That's what I'm trying to tell you. You've always been there for me, and I'll always be there for you. Nothing will ever change that. Not even me dying. I know you've been telling yourself for years that that isn't possible, but you need to acknowledge it, or you'll never move on. And I want you to live, Seto. I want you to live."

"Mokuba." He said softly, looking down at his brother. "If you die," He choked on the last word, "Then I won't be alive anymore. I'll be a shell of who I am now. That's what I'm trying to tell you. You're the only thing that makes me alive. Without you, who's going to tell me to quit working and get some sleep, or make sure I take a day off once in a while, or cheer me on when I duel? If you're gone, Mokuba, then I lose the part of me that's still human, and living a life without that isn't worth living at all."

"Seto…"

"I can't lose you without losing myself too, Mokuba. That's just how it is."

Mokuba reached to touch his brother's arm. "I'll always be here, Seto. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be alive right now. But you need to know that even if I die, that I want you to live in honor of me. I need to know that you won't give up if I'm gone. Because even though it would be hard to wait for you wherever I'd go after, I know it would be worth the wait to hear all the stories of things you did and all the ways you helped people. That's what makes me so proud to be your brother. You give people jobs, you opened Kaiba Land and help out orphans like us who don't have much. You make me so proud to be your brother, and I don't want you to stop making me proud just because I'm not there to see it."

Seto said nothing for a minute, before pulling his brother close to him. Mokuba was happy to snuggle into him, as Seto spoke again. "I always want to make you proud, Mokuba. I know you want me to accept… that. But I just…" He trailed off.

"I get it." Mokuba said quietly. "I mean, who are you if you're not fighting for my life or taking care of me, right? "Big Brother" is a huge part of who you are. But it doesn't change just because I'm not there, Seto. You'll always be my big brother."

Seto pressed him close, ignoring the tear that was falling down his cheek. "And you'll always be my little brother. That's why you have to get better. You're not supposed to go before I do. Please don't, okay?"

It was likely as close to an acknowledgement of the situation as Mokuba would get. Mokuba squeezed him as tight as he could. "I'll try my best."

The two of them held to each other that way for a long time- long enough for Seto to pull himself together again. Then, Mokuba spoke up. "Seto?"

"Hmmm?"

"Will you tell me a story?"

Seto smiled. It had become a tradition of theirs for him to tell his brother stories in the hospital, starting from Mokuba's first admission. He hoped Mokuba never stopped asking him for them. "Sure, kiddo. What story do you want to hear?"

Mokuba thought about that for a minute, and then spoke, very quietly. "What did Dad used to do while I was in here the first time?"

Seto froze momentarily before composing himself. The kid deserved to know the whole story. "When you were getting treatments he used to stand outside the door at the window, smiling at you so you knew he was there. Sometimes he'd take me to the cafeteria if you were sleeping, and I'd ask him what was happening with you. If you didn't want to eat, he used to make a game out of it. He'd have you close your eyes and guess what was in the food. It worked pretty well, actually. When you were awake, he used to tell you stories or play with you. When you cried, he used to climb into your bed and cradle you in his arms, and I'd sit by him and rub your back until you either stopped or fell asleep."

"Is that why you used to climb into bed with me in the orphanage when I cried? Even though it might have gotten you in trouble?"

He nodded. "Yes. That's right."

A faint memory tugged at Mokuba, so faint that he had to grab onto it with both hands to keep it playing. "Did Dad used to sing to me when I was here?"

Surprise flickered across Seto's expression. "He did. I'm surprised you even remember that."

"There was one song… What was that one song he used to sing all the time?"

"Big Rock Candy Mountain." Seto said, as the memory uncovered itself for him.

"It used to make me smile, didn't it?" The memory was very faint, but he thought he could remember a deep, gravelly tenor voice singing to him, and himself feeling very happy and safe by it.

Seto nodded. "Every time. You used to tell me that someday you were going to find the big rock candy mountain because it sounded like so much fun."

"Will you sing it for me? Please?" Mokuba asked, looking up at him.

Seto hesitated a moment, considering himself a bad singer, but one look into Mokuba's eyes and he couldn't say no. He took in a breath, and started to sing.

"One evening as the sun went down

And the jungle fire was burning,

Down the track came a hobo hiking,

And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning

I'm headed for a land that's far away

Besides the crystal fountains

So come with me, we'll go and see

The Big Rock Candy Mountains."

Mokuba found himself grinning by the end of it, and the sight made Seto smile just a tiny bit. It was comforting to know that some things never changed, despite the passage of time.

"You're a really good singer, Seto."

Seto smiled. "I don't think so, but thank you. Mom was the singer in the family." He mused.

"Really?"

Seto nodded. "She used to play the piano and sing all the time. She always filled the house with music. She used to sing all the time when she was pregnant with you. You used to kick a lot when she sang. That's why she did it so much."

"Maybe you got the talent from her." Mokuba offered.

Seto pondered that for a moment. Then: "Maybe."

"Did I get anything from her?"

"She used to sketch a lot. She liked art. I think you got that from her."

Mokuba beamed at that. "Really?"

"Mhm. She used to sit out on the back patio and sketch in the mornings."

"You think that's why I'm such a morning person?"

"Maybe."

Mokuba beamed at his brother. "I like that."

Silence prevailed over them for a moment, before Mokuba nestled into his brother. "Did I ever thank you, Seto?"

"Thank me? For what?"

"For everything, Seto. You never gave up on me, even when everybody else did. You've always been there, Seto. Every nightmare, every cold, every scraped knee, every bully, every hospitalization. I know you've said you can't live without me, but the truth is I couldn't live without you either. You're my hero, Seto."

Seto pulled him into a hug. "Thank you, Mokuba. You know, you've always been my hero too."

"Really?"

"You've undergone surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation therapy, withstood bullying, and have still come out smiling. You're the strongest person I know. I'm so proud of you."

Mokuba snuggled into his brother. "I love you, Seto."

Seto held him just a bit closer. "I love you too, Mokuba."

The words were a rarity, saved for the most tender of moments between the two brothers. Here, in the hospital, with the circumstances surrounding them, there was no more important time to say those words than now. Mokuba was smiling, he could tell.

A yawn broke the moment.

"I'm tired, Seto…" Mokuba sighed.

"Get some sleep, little brother. You need your rest."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Always." Seto promised.

With that, Mokuba went to sleep, feeling a little more at peace, as his brother held him in his arms.