He straightened to a more comfortable position, "What's your favorite memory to do with KaibaLand?"
I'm not giving up on you, Seto. I wouldn't know how.
How convenient then that Pegasus had done enough to earn Seto's repulsion. But at the reminder of Seto's own words, he glanced down at his arms, still uncovered and unprotected by the white and bloody t-shirt. He instinctively glanced in either direction for something to cover them before recognizing how late he was.
And he wanted to lie. To tell Pegasus that it had been the grand opening or letting Mokuba test out all of the roller coasters on the day before the park officially opened. Either would be easier to manage than the truth. He didn't want Pegasus to know, because even though Pegasus said he didn't intend to force Seto into this, he still wanted too much from Seto.
A hasty retreat and a few concessions weren't enough to earn Seto's forgiveness. All it would take for Pegasus to change his mind was... well, Seto wasn't exactly sure. A wrong word? A sharp glare? One too many references to Gozaburo?
Seto checked the screen and was only partly thankful to find the number up from 14. It still wasn't high enough. Seto still felt trapped. He didn't see how he could ever not.
Pegasus might let him go, let him return to build KaibaCorp back up again, but if he hadn't given up on Seto, how could Seto ever feel safe? At any moment, he might decide to return to this inane notion of – friendship? camaraderie? trust?
"I don't suppose you'd let me skip one?" Seto asked, mind filled with images of Mokuba in a sandbox, tracing his finger along paths Seto had carved out.
Pegasus shrugged his shoulders, "Nostalgia runs deeper than we ever believed, doesn't it?"
Seto's eyes widened a little at the statement but quickly reverted back to normal.
"Relax," he said gently. "I've spent enough time clawing a way out of my own. I'm not going to drag you through yours, though you'll still have it, you know, exactly as it was. I don't think anyone's touched KaibaLand. Just the things they assumed your stepfather had a right to."
The question suddenly had some context, but Pegasus's idea of planting hope was half-hearted at best. Any condolences the man could offer had the opposite effect. The quick turnaround from needing to control every move to relinquishing all authority was likely a game in and of itself. He was tired of playing.
"You do realize I'm counting that as a question?" Seto blinked slowly to process the words, "You forfeit a turn." Even the playful inflection of Pegasus's voice and mocking wag of a finger was forced. Two days hadn't cracked the man this thoroughly. Something was wrong, and the rate things were going, there was no way he'd be off the island fast enough to avoid the epiphany.
"What do you think about before you fall asleep?"
"Most recently?" Stabbing a knife through your throat. But that answer wouldn't be acceptable, so Seto went with the obvious, still unsettled by Pegasus's reaction to his last question. "Normally? Work."
He let the answer stand. There wasn't much else to it. It wasn't like he played out fantasies while trying to doze off, and by the time he got in bed, he was usually tired enough that he fell asleep within minutes.
Pegasus didn't need that much information. Seto would give him the basics. If Pegasus wanted to ask a follow up, then that was his prerogative. Seto didn't know what else Pegasus could possible want to know about the subject.
Seto turned to the computer like the thought of work brought him back to the reality of their situation. It had been long enough that someone should start fighting back. He doubted that anyone could, but he wanted to be prepared for it. There was still a lot left to go.
Even though Pegasus had forfeited Seto's last turn for him, Seto didn't have many more questions. Pegasus seemed to be deflecting, although it could have just been his delusion making him lack the self-awareness to admit what he had done. It wasn't just wrong.
"Now what?" was all Seto could think to ask.
"Now?" he repeated, as if he'd misheard. "I'm going to have a drink." There was no point in offering one to Seto; in their hundreds of shared meetings he'd never seen him touch alcohol, and under the circumstances wasn't likely to take anything he hadn't poured himself.
But he used the opportunity to get up from the bed and stretch his legs, "Your clothes are in the dresser," he said, and left without a reply.
Seto's company killed his time, not his loneliness. There was no point in upholding the charade with the certain fate of the world hanging in the balance. He wondered absently if the boy would chance leaving if the virus was successful. He'd ordered Isono to move, it didn't matter where. Eventually, when the coast had cleared, he'd meet up with them. Pick up where he'd left off and push forward the best he could.
The knot in his chest swelled, making it hard to draw full breaths. He remembered what that was like. Sleepless nights wandering sleepless roads. Chasing dreams in stark, empty sheets and the hard eyes of strangers.
Seto's battle wouldn't be the same, the house he returned to wouldn't be empty. The arms he found himself in, or rather, the child he had to fill them, wouldn't ache with the weight of memories too vivid to bury.
Or maybe they would.
He stumbled against the counter, downing the first glass, and the second soon after, before he had the strength to drop the maybe.
His clothes?
With a cautionary glance to the computer, Seto stood and crossed the room to the dresser. It had been a while since Seto felt the nausea, but it returned at the idea of Pegasus having set up a wardrobe for him. It reinforced the plan to keep Seto indefinitely.
At least this was the room he would have ended up in.
He pulled a long-sleeved black t-shirt out of the top drawer and tossed it over to the bed, landing on the spot Pegasus had just vacated.
I'm going to have a drink.
Now who was deflecting?
The bottom drawer had jeans, dark washed and close enough to something Seto would wear that he didn't mind them. He'd been wearing bloody slacks or sweatpants for too long, and while he didn't normally wear jeans, they would help him feel a touch more collected.
After changing, Seto folded the old clothing even though he suspected Pegasus would simply toss them out rather than try to remove the blood. He grabbed a new pair of socks and didn't search for shoes in what he assumed would be the closet.
The routine of changing settled Seto's thoughts enough that when he sat back down in front of the computer, he felt more in control of himself, of the situation. The loading bar switched to 17% with no signs that he was being resisted.
Until he heard a thumping coming from outside and jogged to the window in time to see a helicopter descend on the dock.
Seto's heart beat loud and fast in his chest, numbing his fingers as they pressed against the glass of the window. He stood long enough to see at least a dozen men swarm the copter before he drew the curtains and went back to the computer.
Eighteen percent. Crawling, but uninterrupted.
"Mr. Kaiba, come quickly." Croquet was at his back, practically prying him from the chair. He couldn't leave in case someone tried to take out the virus. He shook his head furiously, refusing to budge. He knew the risk when he started. There was no backing out now.
Croquet made a noise of understanding and stood a few inches from him, weapon at the ready, facing the door.
"Emerson," he called sharply into the hall. The man rushing past with Pegasus in toe stopped immediately. "Come in and shut the door," he ordered. "Like you mean it—that's it, get the window."
Pegasus sat against the wall and beside the bed where he'd be concealed from anyone who tried to come through the window. The poor bastard who made the mistake of testing Croquet wouldn't get very far.
"How many?"
"Just two," Emerson replied, gun in hand. "We got both of them. Keatley took a flesh wound. Kieran cut the cameras and is working on tracing the radio."
"They alive?"
"Yeah."
A hand rose to his earpiece and he spoke slowly to be heard through the static and the wind, "Let the men at the gate take care of them. Everyone else stay where you are. There'll be more."
Seto let the words fade into the background as he adjusted a few settings to speed up the virus. Twenty percent, but not holding very steady. Too many questions ran through his mind. What would they do with the men? How many were they prepared to handle?
His hands moved to his pockets and patted them firmly, unable to remember if he'd transferred the phone when he changed. Thankfully, it was there.
He just needed to stay distracted long enough to avoid calling Isono and demanding to talk to Mokuba, to make sure he was okay.
The only words he made out through the glare of the screen and illusion of his brother's voice were, "Stay calm" and "Get air patrol out here."
Since when did Pegasus have military connections? How could he be sure they weren't working for Gozaburo? Did these idiots forget who they were dealing with?
"Relax," Crawford said on cue. "They're in our pocket, not his."
Panic made everything too sharp. Pegasus's words tumbled around his head. 300 to 3,000 men.
Thousand.
Croquet's voice again.
"Make them talk."
The screen flashed 21%.
Croquet put a hand to the device in an attempt to muffle the struggle on the other end.
The plight of these bastards didn't set him off.
The world began to filter through, loud and abrasive.
He recognized the scream.
He hardly had time to process it before a notification appeared on his screen. It grabbed Seto's attention and held it fast.
'Is that you, Seto?'
Seto's gaze skimmed over the frame of the monitor, searching for a webcam and coming up empty. He could breathe relieved. But the monitor had speakers built into the side, so it would be possible for the notifications to become a voice.
Seto blocked out the ruckus going on behind and around him and leaned in, looking for a way to better protect the computer. The virus carried on uninterrupted, but another notification appeared.
'You think you can take me down before we get to you?'
His blood turned cold and Seto shut down the pop up. There had to be a way to speed up the process. He already had it going at what he thought was the maximum speed, but maybe—
Someone asked him a question. Seto heard his name and the questioning tone, but he ignored it, ignored Croquet giving more commands into the phone. It couldn't be Gozaburo going up against Seto. Aizawa had found what Seto was doing and was on the other end taunting him.
But he wasn't a match for Seto's abilities.
'I'm looking forward to seeing you and that brother of yours again.'
24%.
Seto couldn't find how he was accessing Seto's end of the computer. The taunts wouldn't work. He'd just put up with two days in a dungeon with Pegasus. And he was taking down Gozaburo.
Pegasus tapped his foot against the bed frame, trying to focus on anything but the impending attack. Military backup was messy but he wasn't ready to risk his island turning into the target of an air raid.
"I can hear them," he said, and Seto strained to make out the hum of helicopters descending on the island. His eyes focused hard on the computer, willing the progress bar to move.
It wasn't fast enough.
"Are any of them ours?"
Emerson took one hand from his weapon to adjust the blind on the window, "No," he said, and resumed his position. "If they're coming two men at a time, there's no way they'll get through."
Croquet's earpiece distorted the pattern of gunfire but they came steady and fast. He couldn't spare a hand to press the device further into his ear, muffling the sound to the outside, but managed to shift weight to his dominant foot in enough time to distract from the body making impact with the water at more than a hundred miles per hour.
"No more in the castle," he ordered in the pauses between Hadley's sharp inhale and exhale of breath. "You hear me?"
There wasn't enough time or manpower to warrant shuffling intruders to the dungeon for information they'd likely never get. More of them required more watchful eyes than they had at the ready. Every able man was needed on the front line.
"Loud and clear, we'll take 'em out."
"Only reach me again if they make it inside. You've seen Aizawa in the news. He shows his face, keep him alive."
"Kid doesn't hold a candle to Kaiba," Hadley assured, round of his weapon making Croquet's ears ring. "We can hold 'em, but there's no telling how long. Hurry up in there."
The line cut out and Croquet leaned back into his normal position, mulling over the confession. There's no telling how long. He took a minute to assess their ranks and the accessibility of ammunition, if they were really coming no more than a handful at a time, they might stand ground until Air Patrol arrived.
"How far along is your virus?" Pegasus asked.
Seto clicked off a pop up with the same deliberate fury most people honed to crushed insects beneath their feet, "29%, 30 just now."
The screen flashed again, 'The rest of us are enjoying our visit.'
31%.
Seto held his breath as the next message appeared.
'London bridge is falling down, falling down.'
He'd managed to buy time for Mokuba, at least. That was all that really mattered.
His hand itched to grab the phone, to call Isono to see how far they had gotten. It couldn't have been far, likely still within miles of the ranch. Talking with Mokuba would have been a distraction, comforting, but ill-timed.
A sharp crack caused everyone in the room to flinch and some to duck, a stray bullet hitting the window, coming through and embedding itself in the ceiling. At least, Seto hoped it was a stray. They couldn't have known which room he was hiding in.
He clicked out of the next pop up without reading it.
The virus had started to increase its speed, but it would slow again toward the end. He might not have been able to see evidence of a counterattack, but there had to be one. They might try to take out his computer rather than stopping the virus itself. Pegasus had security installed, but it certainly wouldn't be enough. Maybe he could amp it up in the little time he had.
'I'd rather you remained unharmed.'
Seto sneered at the screen before closing the message. But it did give him an idea, maybe one Pegasus wouldn't go along with, but something at least. If all this was true and Gozaburo was actually trying to steal Seto's body—again—then he sure as hell wouldn't give it to him clean.
"I need a gun," he said, still looking at the computer to watch the progress hit 35%. Only for an emergency, Seto thought. Only if it came down to it. He could go the rest of his life without proper use of his knee, maybe an ankle, but Gozaburo would end up settling for someone else. After all the other damage Seto's body had taken over the years, losing use of a limb would be the tipping point.
And if Gozaburo couldn't have Seto's body, he might back down from Mokuba's.
But again, Seto reminded himself, only as a last resort.
"Well?" he asked. The sound of helicopters increased, but he stayed put at the desk. Something else too, engines maybe? If they were coming in speed boats, they could double their numbers.
A bedroom wasn't the best place to hole up, but it was too late to move now.
38%.
"I'm sorry Master Pegasus, we weren't prepared," Croquet mumbled, ignoring Seto's request and hoping his conversation with Pegasus would indicate how to handle it.
"I knew what we were getting into the moment I agreed to it," he replied. "There's no need for apologies." He folded his hands together and brought his legs closer to his chest, just in case.
"A gun isn't going to do you any good. If they're close enough to take out Croquet, you wouldn't have the time to make use of it anyway. His men will either find you or they won't. If they do it's not going to be a matter of escaping with your life. Nor mine, nor anyone else's in this room."
Seto's hand clenched the mouse tight enough to draw fresh blood from his hand. If he wanted to have any hope of landing a weapon, he'd have to come up with an elaborate lie—and his mind was divided between too many things as it was.
The screen flashed, 42%.
Just fucking once he'd like Pegasus to let him take his life into his own hands.
"If I may sir."
Pegasus gave a soft 'hmm.'
"As you've said, once the men get inside it's unlikely we'll be able to stop them. The whole point of this was to keep Mr. Kaiba from falling into Gozaburo's hands. If he's a free man at the end of this—" His eyes met Pegasus's in wake of his boldness, "—Why deny him the ultimate assurance of not being a captive anymore?"
The words sent a spasm through Pegasus's entire body which might have drawn him to his feet if not for the battle outside intensifying. He knew what the boy was implying by asking for it, but having Croquet confirm it was impossibly worse. All this time, all this effort, had it really been for nothing? He couldn't hand the boy the key to his own demise. He wouldn't. God dammit they were going to make it through this.
He met the shaded eyes with a glare, but couldn't get his answer in before Croquet spoke up again.
"He's not talking about throwing his life away. This is a situation where the only choice is: die, or die horribly."
Pegasus put a hand over his mouth to hold his stomach, closing his eye and letting his head press gently against the wall, "Give him the gun."
Seto didn't have enough time to process his silent gratitude for Croquet before the screen flashed again.
"Game over."
44%. Then—
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