Notes: The Christmas carol and poem is in the public domain. Thanks to Azalea542 for plot help!

Chapter Nine

Tristan, Lumis, and Umbra were frozen in place, horrified and in disbelief at the scene that had just unfolded. Then Lumis came to life, tearing across the space to kneel at Duke's side. "Mr. Devlin?!" he shrieked.

Umbra quickly followed him. "It's no use," he said shakily. "He can't be alive. . . ."

Lumis checked anyway, his small but thick hands trembling. "Mr. Devlin . . ." He slumped back in horror, his eyes haunted. He blamed himself. They had been right there and hadn't been able to do a thing.

Tristan fell back against the nearest shelf, shaking, running a hand over his face. Dead. . . . Duke was dead and it was a nightmare. Brutus had done it but it was really Tristan's fault, as far as he was concerned. He hadn't been able to quell his anger and frustrations so that Brutus would lose the power to act. His rage had fueled Brutus into being able to commandeer the dagger even outside of Tristan's body.

He turned away. The room was spinning. He felt dizzy, sick. He could never get over this. Never. And he could never forgive himself. Serenity never could or would either.

The doors opened again, admitting the large groups. Yami Bakura swore in Egyptian at the sight before them. Nesbitt swore in English. Serenity, Melody, and Mokuba screamed.

"Oh my gosh!" Téa shouted.

"What happened?!" Evangeline cried.

"We should have just immediately come here," Yami Bakura snarled. "Especially once the dagger actually vanished from my hand! We should have known this was where it would end up!" He stormed over to the carnage and knelt down, grasping the dagger's handle.

"Yami, you're not supposed to pull it out!" Bakura exclaimed.

"That's if the person is alive," Yami Bakura shot back. He pulled the dagger out, with no response whatsoever from Duke.

Serenity stumbled over to the body and crashed to her knees, laying Duke's head on her lap. "Duke . . . please . . . please wake up," she begged. Even though she likely knew it was useless, she couldn't bring herself to give up on him. Her hands shook as she gently ran them through his hair.

Yami Bakura ignored the scene, focusing entirely on the dagger and its strange carvings. Realizing what he was up to, Bakura came over in concern. "Yami?"

"It's written in old English, just like the others," Yami Bakura told him. "Once we get past the atrocious spelling, it seems to say that the dagger's power is to bind hateful souls to it. To save a victim stabbed by it, the dagger must be purified."

Finally Tristan dared to perk up. "Duke can be saved?" he said in disbelief.

Bakura nodded. "Just like with the Eon Spear, it would seem so!" he exclaimed.

Serenity perked up as well. "Then we have to do it!" she cried. "But . . . how?!"

"Maybe we get a priest?" Melody suggested. She was still shaking and hugging Mr. Muffin, horrified by the sight.

"I'm sure that would normally help," Yugi said slowly, "but in the past, these Eon Items have been very tied up in the ideas of friends and enemies."

Joey nodded. "Like with the sword that nearly killed Siegfried. The only way to save him was for an enemy to have the pain of the wound and die instead."

Tristan swallowed hard. That was true. He had been willing to die to save Duke before, but now that there was more time to think it out, was he still willing?

"How did this happen in the first place?" Yami Bakura demanded. "Did you do this while that evil spirit was possessing you?" He looked up at Tristan.

Nesbitt paled at the suggestion. From the look in his eyes, that was making him think about when he had hurt Lector under mind-control.

Serenity stiffened. "No! Tristan would never!" she cried, hugging Duke close to her.

It only made Tristan feel worse that she believed in him so much. ". . . I kind of did," he rasped. "The only reason Brutus could do any of what he did was because my anger gave him power." He turned away, digging his hands into his hair. "I'm sorry, Serenity. I'm so sorry. . . ."

Serenity wasn't even sure what to say. She swallowed hard and just focused on the lifeless form in her arms. It wasn't even the first time she had seen a loved one laying dead. Yami Marik had killed Joey during Battle City. And there had been so many other close calls since then, but none with someone else she was this close to. She had hoped and prayed such a day would not come.

Yami Bakura got to his feet and held out the dagger. "If your anger caused this, Tristan, perhaps it's your forgiveness that will purify the weapon and fix this. Can you do that?" Something flickered in his eyes. Forgiveness was not an easy thing to give. He understood that, and he understood what he was asking of Tristan. But . . . if that was the only way . . .

Tristan swallowed hard. He could die for Duke, but . . . could he live for Duke, forgive Duke? That seemed even harder. He had to try, didn't he? Yami Bakura very likely might be right, especially given what the other Eon Items had been like. Only forgiveness had reversed the damage caused by the Eon Bow and Arrow.

He shakily reached out, taking the dagger from the man. "I . . . I don't know," he confessed. "I . . . I have to try, but . . . what if I can't? I knew before that my anger was fueling Brutus, but I couldn't stop it."

"You didn't want to stop it," Yami Bakura flatly told him. "You wanted to be angry at Duke, perhaps even to hate Duke. You finally felt like you could channel your feelings instead of repressing them, and you liked how that felt."

Tristan clenched his teeth. "You weren't there!" he spat. "How do you know how I felt?!"

"I still remember when I first put on the Millennium Ring and how much raw power I suddenly felt I had," Yami Bakura replied. "And how my hatred seemed to make it stronger. I remember how good that felt."

Tristan swallowed hard and looked down, nodding in resignation. "You're right," he admitted. "That's how I felt. I didn't want to turn it off. And with everything happening so fast, it felt like I couldn't turn it off."

"But what about now that you can think?" Marik quietly asked.

Tristan shut his eyes tightly and several tears leaked out. "I'm going to try," he said. "I want to try." He sank to his knees, trembling as he clutched the dagger with all his might.

Duke was so smooth, so frustrating. . . . Tristan had distrusted him so many times, but he had come through all those times as a true and loyal ally. He had never really been what Tristan had thought. And he had been good for Serenity. Even if Tristan didn't agree with how much Duke encouraged Serenity to spread her wings, he had to admit that she had been happier and more outgoing since growing closer to Duke.

She loved him so much. . . . She was still stroking his hair, shaking, singing a Christmas carol under her breath.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old, familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good-will to men

Tristan swallowed hard. It was one of Serenity's favorite carols. But could he let the meaning penetrate the anger in his heart? Could he be purified so he could purify the dagger and save Duke's life? Would that even work?

He had to believe it could. And if the dagger was purified, Brutus surely couldn't be bound to it anymore. Maybe he would be pulled to Hell and leave them all alone.

If Brutus was going there, though, did Tristan deserve it too? His anger had made all of this possible. He had known Brutus wanted to kill Duke and he still hadn't been able to make himself leave the rage behind.

Duke was laying so still. . . . If he couldn't be saved . . . if he was really dead . . . he would never be able to frustrate Tristan again.

Serenity might never smile again.

And Tristan doubted he would either. He would never be able to stop feeling like a murderer, even though he hadn't directly driven the dagger into Duke's heart. He never wanted anything horrible to happen to Duke.

And in despair I bowed my head;

"There is no peace on earth," I said;

"For hate is strong,

And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Tristan felt like he had a bowling ball in his throat and another in his stomach. How true was that song today?

A tear slipped from Serenity's eye and splashed on Duke's cold cheek.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;

"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good-will to men."

Tristan swallowed the bowling ball. Please, God, help me. Help me forgive Duke . . . and save him. . . . He can't die here. Not now, not like this. . . .

At first nothing changed. But then, slowly, a warm feeling began to spread through Tristan's heart and over his body. The hate and anger were soon quite literally swallowed up in the warmth. He gasped in surprise, opening his eyes.

The dagger in his hands was also starting to glow. Brutus roared in rage as he was forcefully pulled out from it. Then the cry faded on the air. He was gone, not to return.

Serenity gasped too. The horrible wound in Duke's flesh began to close, the blood fading and then disappearing from his clothes and the floor. The cut on his cheek also mended. The body jerked and Duke took a breath, his eyes flying open.

Serenity exclaimed for sheer joy. "Duke! Oh Duke!" She bent down, hugging him close.

Duke looked up at her with bleary eyes. "Serenity . . . I . . . I'm alive?"

"Yes, Duke! Yes!" Serenity held him to her, laughing and crying all at once. Happy exclamations went up from everyone else gathered around as well.

Duke reached up, laying his hands on her arms. "How?"

"Tristan," Serenity explained. "He broke the spell on the dagger and saved you!"

"Tristan . . . ?!" Duke looked over at the other boy in shock.

Tristan looked back. He felt no jealousy, no anger now. "Yeah," he said quietly. He held the dagger out to Duke. "I . . . I can't say how sorry I am. . . ."

Duke shakily took it. "You saved my life. . . ."

"I never should have let Brutus get as much power as he did," Tristan said miserably. "It's my fault what happened to you, Duke. I . . . I had to try to make it right."

"And you did," Duke said. "Thank you."

Tristan stared at him. "That's it?" he said incredulously. "No hard feelings?!"

Duke gave a weak shrug. "Maybe later I'll feel more hurt that things escalated to this point, or maybe not. You saved me. That's not a small thing."

Tristan could only nod, at a loss for words now.

Nesbitt relaxed. "Will you be alright?" he asked Tristan.

Tristan opened his mouth, then closed it. ". . . I don't know," he admitted. "I might like to talk to you about it. . . ."

Nesbitt nodded. "Whenever you want to."

The sliding doors opened again, this time admitting a worried and confused David. "Duke?!" He took in the scene but was no less confused. "What happened here?!"

Duke looked up with a start. "David . . ." He hesitated, clearly unsure whether to tell his friend the truth about what happened. "I thought you had to pick up your family. . . ."

"I left them all at the house to get settled in," David said. "I kept having a bad feeling about you, so I had to come back." His hands went to his hips. "What is all this?!"

Duke finally sighed in resignation. He couldn't keep David in the dark. "It's a long story," he said. "Maybe we can talk upstairs in your office. Or mine."

"We'd better," David said. "But are you alright?!"

Duke slowly got to his feet, with Serenity standing by in case he needed help. "Yeah," he said sincerely. "I'm alright." He gave David a smile, praying no one would blurt out the story before he had the chance to do it himself. Thankfully, although sometimes Joey or Crump did exactly that, today they tactfully kept quiet.

Duke managed to move slowly up the stairs, David following right behind him. "Duke . . . you act like you're hurt," David said at the top.

Duke sighed. He walked to David's office and went in to lie on the couch. He waited for David to come in and shut the door before he spoke. "I . . . I don't even really know how to say this," he said. "You were right about the danger. That evil spirit was Brutus, one of the main drug smugglers. He'd bound himself to that dagger and . . . well, he possessed Tristan and came here after me."

David went stiff, staring at Duke in horror. "Duke . . . I thought you'd be safe here. . . ."

"He was really gunning for me," Duke said. "I don't think I would have been safe anywhere." He paused. "Tristan did manage to break the control. But . . . Brutus manipulated the dagger like a poltergeist and . . ." He looked away. "Stabbed me."

All color drained from David's face. "Where?! How bad is it?" He started to get up from the chair to come over.

Duke held up a weary hand. "You won't be able to find it. Like with the other Eon Items' powers, the victim can be healed if certain conditions are met. Tristan was able to do that for me. I guess he felt responsible and like he had to fix it."

David slumped back. "Tristan really did that?"

"Yeah. I had to hear it second-hand, but yeah. He did." Duke was still speaking to the couch.

That was enough for David to know that Duke was still understandably shaken by what had happened. He got up and came over to the couch. "Duke . . . what are you not telling me?" he quietly asked.

A shudder went up Duke's back. "I was dead," he whispered. "Brutus killed me." He rolled onto his back and looked up at the thunderstruck David. "David, I was dead." He choked on a sob. "I felt the dagger go in my chest and then there was this unreal pain. . . . I saw Tristan looking horrified and then . . . then nothing." Another sob, and less of an attempt to hide it. "You saw good things when you. . . . Why did I see and feel nothing?!"

David swallowed hard. It felt like he was barely keeping his emotions in check, but somehow he had to. Duke was upset enough as it was. "Maybe . . . maybe because it was an enchanted death that could be fixed," he said. "That has to be why! We know there are afterlives." He bent down, pulling Duke into his arms. "Duke . . . I . . . I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you." He shut his eyes tightly, but several tears slipped out.

Duke clutched him, outright weeping now. All the pain bottled up from years of his unhappy life was pouring out in this one agonized outburst. It had happened on occasion before, but David had never been able to be with him then. He cried until he felt weak, spent. Then, shuddering, he sank against his best friend, his brother. ". . . I . . . wouldn't wish that on you," he whispered. "I wouldn't want you to see me laying dead, even for five minutes. You should never have to go through what I went through with you."

"Oh Duke. . . ." David held him closer. Selfless even now.

"I know you need to be with your family, but . . . I wish . . . no." Duke shook his head. "Nevermind."

"You're my family too," David said. "I won't leave you now."

Duke managed a weak smile and didn't protest. "Thanks."

xxxx

Downstairs, Joey was watching over Serenity in concern. "How are you holding up, Sis?" he asked.

Serenity managed a weak smile. "I'm okay, Joey. Duke's alright, and Tristan saved him. . . . I'm happy!"

"I'm sure we all are, but you still saw something horrible," Joey said.

Serenity sighed. "It's not the first time," she said quietly. "I hoped it would never happen again, but it did. . . ."

Joey sighed too. "It seems like you've had to see a steady stream of horrible stuff ever since you first came back here to get your eyes fixed," he said.

Serenity looked up with a jerk. "But I've seen wonderful things too!" She took Joey's hands. "I wouldn't trade that for anything, even though I have to take the bad with the good. I just hope nothing like this will happen again . . . but I know it probably will. And I know things can't always work out happy. I just want to focus on the good right now, though."

Joey sighed but smiled. "Alright, Sis. But you just come and talk to me any time it starts to be too much."

"I will," Serenity promised.

Tristan observed them from a distance, his hands shoved in his pockets. He really needed that offered talk sooner rather than later. He turned and approached Nesbitt, who had sank down at one of the gaming tables while trying not to make it look like he needed to sit down. "Is that invitation still open?" he asked.

Nesbitt looked up, not really surprised, and gestured to the other chair. "Of course."

Tristan heaved a sigh and sat. ". . . You're really lucky that your feelings weren't exploited by Yami Marik that time he mind-controlled you," he said. "You don't have to know that your feelings gave him more power."

Nesbitt grunted. "How do you know I don't wonder and worry that they did? It took months for Lector and the others to convince me that didn't happen."

Tristan went red. "Well, there I go, promptly sticking my foot in my mouth again," he muttered in disgust.

"You are right that I don't know," Nesbitt said. "I just worry."

Tristan shook his head. "Even though Brutus was the one who stabbed Duke, he wouldn't have even had the power to do it if it hadn't been for me," he berated. "I couldn't let go of my feelings, even after I knew they were giving him strength! If I hadn't been able to save Duke, I . . ." He swallowed hard. "I could never forgive myself."

"Can you forgive yourself now?" Nesbitt asked.

"No," Tristan admitted. "Not yet. I thought forgiving Duke was impossible, but now I've done that. Forgiving myself . . . that's what sounds impossible now."

Nesbitt nodded. "It is, pretty much. You can't do it without help. I would be lost without the others."

"Right now, I . . . I'm feeling a lot like Kalin," Tristan confessed. "I feel like I'm not even worthy to be around the others."

Nesbitt jerked fully upright. "I know firsthand how hard it is not to sink into that mindset, but don't forget that you made right what Brutus made wrong. That's something I haven't been able to do. I always have to live with all the ways I've hurt people I love and can't take back."

Tristan frowned. "If our positions were reversed, could you feel better about yourself if you'd, say, brought Lector back after some creep killed him using your angry feelings to do it?"

". . . No," Nesbitt admitted. "To be honest, I'd feel like killing myself." He gave Tristan a concerned look.

Tristan sighed, heavily. "Well, I guess I don't feel that deeply. I'm not suicidal. I just feel like the worst slime possible right now."

Nesbitt nodded in understanding. "It might take a long time for those feelings to be able to go away or even just start to fade. Don't block the others out, as much as you might want to. Neither Kalin nor I deal with our problems in the healthiest of ways, but unlike me, Kalin is trying to do it all alone. I don't know how long he's going to go on like that, but I do know he'll never be able to get better that way."

"You're probably right," Tristan acknowledged.

"And any time you want to talk to me, I'm here," Nesbitt said.

Tristan managed a smile. "Thanks." He got up and started to walk past, but paused and gripped Nesbitt's shoulder. "You know, I never once thought you'd be one of our closest friends. Now, I can't imagine the group without you."

Nesbitt looked up at him in surprise. He couldn't think what to say, but slowly, he smiled.

Standing nearby, Lector smiled too.

"This has been a really crazy Christmas season," Mokuba remarked to him. "I hope things are gonna settle down now so we can really enjoy the rest of it."

"I most certainly hope that as well, Mokuba," Lector said.

"Heck, I'm sure we all do," Crump said.

Mokuba watched Tristan walk over near Yugi, Joey, Serenity, and Téa. "Do you think Tristan's gonna be okay?"

"I don't know," Lector admitted. "I'm sure it will be rough going for him for a while. But if we all rally around him, we may be able to help him recover sooner."

"Duke will probably need help too," Mokuba said. "It can't be easy remembering what he just went through."

Lector nodded. "We'll be there for him as well," he assured the boy. "And Miss Wheeler. I can't imagine how shaken she must be." Nesbitt would have spoken to her as well, but Joey had mostly been handling that so far.

"Probably everybody is pretty shook up," Crump said. "We'll make sure to reach out to them all."

Finally Mokuba looked satisfied. "Good."

Lector regarded him in concern. "What about you, Mokuba? You saw something horrible."

Mokuba looked away. "Yeah . . . but Duke's okay now . . . and it's not the first awful thing I've seen. . . ."

Lector sighed. That was sadly true. Seto had wanted so badly for Mokuba to retain his childhood, but in many ways Mokuba had been growing up ahead of his time.

"You be sure to talk about it if you need to," Lector told him. "I know your brother will be worried about you, and Mr. Ishtar. And I am as well."

Mokuba smiled a bit. "I know. Thanks, Lector. I'm okay now, but . . . sometimes when I'm going to sleep, that's when the memories really come back to haunt me."

"I hope you talk to your brother when that happens," Lector said.

"Sometimes," Mokuba said. "I don't like to worry him. . . ."

"He would absolutely want to know," Lector insisted. "I suppose that sounds strange coming from me, but I've come to understand that he cares about you very much. Please promise me you'll talk to him, Mokuba."

Mokuba smiled more and hugged Lector close. "Okay."

Lector smiled too, as he returned it.

Hopefully they all would indeed have a happy Christmas.