Yu-Gi-Oh! 5Ds

Disconnected

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! This takes place prior to the Crash Town arc (except for the last scene, which takes place near the end of it). So I love shower rescue scenes (someone falls in the shower, someone else has to help them) and this happened. I also discovered the abandoned 5Ds_100 comm on Livejournal and its table of 100 writing prompts. I decided to try writing for a few. As it happened, they had one that fit great for a shower rescue, so I'm using it. #29 - Nude. This is probably one of my more elaborate shower rescues, but I tried to be very tasteful at all times and allow the poor victim his dignity!

Radley limped up to the porch and through the front door of his house, one hand on his bruised and hurting side and the other fumbling with the key. Kalin, also somewhat banged up, trailed in after him at his invitation. They had been accosted behind the diner that night by some of Malcolm's Crew, and whether the thugs had been acting on their own or under Malcolm's orders was unclear. Radley and Kalin had finally come out on top; the Crewmembers had crawled away in apparently worse condition. But now they were both hurt and Radley had insisted Kalin come back with him for treatment and recovery. Kalin had come, but he intended to remain stubborn about the treatment part.

Radley gave a weary sigh when they were both inside and the door was shut. "Alright, Kalin. Let's see how badly hurt you are." He put the key in his pocket and turned on the living room lights.

"It's nothing," Kalin grunted. "Just bruises and bumps. You should worry more about what happened to you."

"I'm alright," Radley insisted, even as he blinked away colored spots from his eyes.

"I can take care of myself." Kalin made his way across the room to the couch.

"The problem is, you don't take care of yourself very well," Radley retorted. "What about when I had to drag you back here smashed out of your mind?!"

"You could have just left me and let Fred dump me in the street," Kalin pointed out.

"Only I never would have done that," Radley said.

"Because you need me every night to help you make money," Kalin intoned.

Radley's patience bent. "Because I'm crazy!" But his shoulders slumped and the outburst passed. "Oh . . . even if you weren't my top Duelist, I wouldn't have left you there!"

"Why?" Kalin grunted.

"Why?! You really think I'm some kind of a monster, don't you?" Radley clenched his fists. This was a pointless conversation. Even as hurt as he was, he had to push his feelings aside and not keep dwelling on it—just like he had to do every day when Kalin walked out on him. "Ugh. You know what? I'm going to take a shower. You can just sit there and treat yourself if you feel like it." He couldn't see that Kalin was cut, just bruised. Even if he was cut, he might not accept help for it anyway—although Radley would still try if he was aware of any injuries.

He really was crazy.

"Fine." Kalin sat on the couch with his harmonica. He didn't want much, if any, fuss made over him. He would have been fine with just laying outside all night as part of his self-imposed punishment, but of course, Radley had had none of that.

Radley limped into the bathroom, holding a hand to his head. Getting so upset and yelling had made his headache worse. One of the Crewmembers had slammed him into a wall and he had hit his head hard enough to daze him. Now he was dizzy from still being up. He had better play it safe and mostly have a bath rather than a shower.

That worked for a time. He definitely needed to not stand anymore tonight; his hands were shaking as he tried to soap up while kneeling or sitting in the tub. As he worked, his thoughts wandered, furiously turning over and over in his mind.

Why did Kalin hate him so much? At the very least, he should be grateful for the work. Apparently he was one of those kind who realized he was so valuable that he felt he could get away with anything, even openly hating his boss.

I've always tried to be nice to him, even when he keeps pushing me away. Sure, most of the Bunch were hard sells, but they came around. I thought Kalin was just an even harder sell at first. But it's obvious he just hates me. Why do I even bother?

He scowled as something else occurred to him. The water wasn't going to hit his head right from this angle. He was going to have to stand up to rinse his hair. He reached up, gripping at the windowsill to pull himself up.

The water felt good as it beat down on him. He tried to relax and ignore the swaying room. He closed his eyes against it.

I have the Bunch. I shouldn't be trying so hard to win Kalin over when it's obviously pointless. Actually, I wasn't even deliberately trying to win him over now. He was hurt. I was there and trying to help. That's all. Not that he cares. He'd probably rather bleed to death than have me around. Maybe he'd rather I bled to death.

He opened his eyes to see if all the soap was gone. The room rocked again, more violently this time. His anger and hurt were just too much when added to the head injury he had sustained. The dizziness overwhelmed him and he lost hold of the sill, falling forward with a scream.

Well, it looks like I'll be out of his life now!

Panicked, he grabbed the shower curtain for support but only managed to pull it down with him when he went.

In the living room, Kalin jumped a mile at the scream and the loud crash. "That fool," he muttered. He wasn't sure why Radley had wanted to shower right then anyway. Kalin would have been more likely to just collapse into bed if he didn't want to punish himself. But Radley did seem to like cleanliness, even scolding the Bunch if they jumped on tables or the counter in the diner. He wasn't like any motorcycle gang leader Kalin had ever met before.

He waited for a moment, listening for any indication that Radley was alright and had managed to get up by himself. When all he heard was the water beating down, he frowned and headed down the hall. "Are you alright?" he called.

He only heard a weak groan in response.

Frowning more, he opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. Radley was sprawled at the bottom of the tub, tangled up in the shower curtain. The water was still beating down on him, but he didn't react.

Kalin leaned over, turning off the water, and then scowled as he surveyed his boss. Obviously Kalin couldn't just leave him there. He gripped Radley's shoulder. "Wake up."

Radley just groaned again.

Straightening, Kalin went to the cupboard and got out a large towel. He returned, keeping it on the edge of the tub as he worked to untangle Radley from the shower curtain. It was incredible how just falling down with it had resulted in such a mess. It was wrapped around his waist, several times over and under his legs, and around his arms. Kalin couldn't even hope to get Radley out of the tub without dealing with this first.

"How did you do this to yourself?" Kalin muttered as he gently lifted Radley's left arm and unwrapped the curtain from it. As he did, the light overhead caught a very faint scar going across Radley's arm. ". . . And what happened here?" He wasn't likely to ever know, as he doubted he would ask. But he would wonder anyway.

His right arm, too, bore a scar. Clearly he had been through some experiences. Kalin was half-expecting to find scars on his legs too, but he didn't see any, somewhat to his surprise. The rest of the marks on Radley's body seemed to be bruises from the fight tonight. He really had been hurt from that. There were no doubt more on his chest; the Crewmembers who had attacked them were brutal.

He leaned back, surveying the rest of the shower curtain disaster. Now it had grown even more confusing. Kalin held Radley's right leg up, got hold of the curtain, and moved it under and over as he unwound it. He had to do the same with Radley's left leg. The rest would be the hardest, as Radley was laying on it.

Radley finally moved while Kalin was tugging on the curtain around his waist. ". . . What happened?" he groaned.

"I don't know," Kalin said flatly. "You slipped and fell, or fainted, or something like that."

". . . Why did you even come in?" Radley mumbled.

". . . I thought I should see what happened," Kalin said. "You might have been dead."

Radley managed a wry laugh. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Kalin frowned. "I don't want you dead."

Radley looked up at him. "Then what do you want, Kalin? Tell me, because I just don't understand. What am I doing wrong? Why can't we connect?"

". . . It's not you," Kalin said. "Not really. I don't connect with anyone."

Radley frowned. ". . . Then . . . does that mean you don't hate me?"

"I don't hate you," Kalin said. But the way he said it left little room for doubt that at the very least, he disliked Radley.

Radley looked away, still hurt. "You don't like me."

Kalin shrugged. "You don't like me either."

"Honestly, Kalin, I liked you a lot when you first came here," Radley said. "And I'm really still trying to, but you make it so hard."

"You shouldn't try," Kalin grunted.

Radley looked back at him. "Why?!"

Kalin didn't answer. Instead he tugged on the curtain again. "You're laying on this piece."

"Oh." Radley tried to push himself up enough that Kalin could pull it away.

Now the full situation was dawning on him and he went a bit red. This was humiliating. He had lectured Kalin about taking care of himself, but he had completely failed to do the same. He had pushed his body too hard and now he was laying in the bathtub, completely naked, while someone who didn't even like him was trying to liberate him from the shower curtain. Of course, the curtain was covering him at the moment, but still.

Finally Kalin leaned back. "I think I got it."

". . . Thanks." Radley reached up, fumbling for the towel. Kalin had thoughtfully left the curtain draped on top of him, so Radley pulled the towel under it and wrapped it around his waist before shoving the curtain aside. He had a good physical form and he wasn't embarrassed about that, per se, but he also wasn't an exhibitionist. Under these circumstances, too, it just felt vulnerable and degrading. No one had seen him naked since childhood, and he hadn't thought someone who didn't like him would be the first to witness it in his adulthood.

Kalin didn't particularly care one way or another. "Can you stand?"

Radley sighed in exasperation and embarrassment. "I'm afraid that's highly unlikely."

Kalin got his hands under Radley's arms and pulled him up. Swaying, Radley shakily grabbed for Kalin and fell against him. When he accidentally hit several bruises, Kalin flinched.

"Kalin, I'm sorry," Radley mumbled. He moved back, trying to just hold onto Kalin's shoulders as he stepped out of the tub. Kalin let him, gritting his teeth against the pain. When he was finally out, Kalin brought an arm around his waist and guided him back outside and to the bedroom.

Radley collapsed on the bed. "I think . . . I should sleep." He held a hand to his forehead.

"I think you have a concussion," Kalin said flatly.

"They don't say anymore that people with concussions can't sleep for 24 hours," Radley said.

Kalin had no idea how Radley knew that, but he would defer to that apparent knowledge. He didn't feel like trying to keep him awake all night.

"You can stay in the guest bedroom," Radley said. "Sometimes one of the Bunch stays over, but there's no one in it tonight."

"Fine," Kalin said. "But are you going to sleep like that?"

Radley looked down at himself. ". . . I can't get up again right now. If I could trouble you to get some clothes for me, I'll try to dress myself laying down."

Kalin shrugged. Crossing to the dresser, he took out boxer shorts, sleep pants, and a tank top and dropped them on the mattress next to Radley.

"Thank you," Radley said. "I'm sorry I crashed into you."

"It's nothing," Kalin said in response to both statements. He turned and walked out.

Radley heaved a sigh before undoing the towel and taking the boxer shorts. He had never tried to dress laying down, but it wasn't too difficult to get them on, to his relief. On the downside, it was exhausting. He had to lay back and just rest for a time before taking up the sleep pants and then the tank top. Finally he was clothed and he let the wet towel drop to the floor. He still didn't have the strength to get up and crawl under the quilt, so he reached and pulled it over him and dozed like that.

"I hope Kalin isn't hurt worse than I thought," he mumbled to the room.

In the other room, Kalin was taking off his coat and pulling up his shirt to examine his injuries. Most were bruises, as they had thought, but a mark across his right arm was a shallow knife wound.

He frowned at it. He could just let it bleed, or get infected, or whatever. But he wanted a perfect loss in dueling, which he wouldn't achieve if he wasn't at his best. He had to take care of himself now to properly send himself to Hell later.

He quietly slipped out of the bedroom and back to the bathroom. Washing the arm under the sink was easy enough, but trying to bandage it with his non-dominant hand was just annoying. Finally he just wrapped it with some gauze from a first aid kit and went back to the bedroom.

He hadn't expected to sleep as long and as hard as he did. When he awoke later, he found his injured arm laying on his chest instead of at his side. Instead of the gauze loosely and sloppily wrapped around it, it had been properly cleaned and bandaged. He could only stare at it, stunned. He certainly hadn't done this. But how . . .

He lowered his arm to the bed and his fingers brushed another hand. Stiffening, he turned to look. Radley was kneeling next to the bed and slumped against the edge of it, asleep or unconscious. The open first aid kit was on the nightstand next to the bed.

"Radley," he whispered in disbelief. The man hadn't even been able to stand to dress himself. How had he forced himself to limp in here and do this? And why? Was he really that determined that Kalin would win for him tomorrow? Was he that consumed by greed?

Kalin slowly sat up. It would be cruel to just leave him down there like that. He got off the bed and bent down, lifting Radley into his arms. He shifted most of the weight to his left arm and his chest, despite the pain to the bruises. They were close to the same size, but Kalin had always been surprisingly strong. He carried Radley back into the other bedroom and laid him under the thick quilt, pulling it up around him.

"Foolish, greedy man," he muttered.

But he paused. Radley looked so . . . sad. And he had acted so angry and even hurt earlier, feeling that Kalin thought he was worse than he really was. Was there any chance that it wasn't about greed, but was just simple human kindness? It wouldn't be the first time Radley had seemed to be kind to him.

That was foolish too, though. No one should show kindness to him, of all people.

But Radley wouldn't know that. He just kept trying day after day to reach out to Kalin no matter how many times he was rejected. Why? Why would he keep trying that hard when Kalin clearly wasn't interested?

For a long time Kalin stared into his boss's unconscious face, as though the answers could be found there. But he saw only sadness.

That haunted him somehow.

xxxx

Kalin really hadn't thought he would ever be faced with this scenario again. He was sitting by the bedside, staring into Radley's unconscious and sorrowful face. Again he was haunted. Only this time, to his immense grief and horror, he understood Radley's feelings. He knew why Radley was sad.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "So sorry. . . . Please come back. . . . I have no right to ask for my sake, but I ask for yours . . . and for everyone else who loves you."

It seemed an eternity ago when Radley had sadly asked him what he was doing wrong, why they couldn't connect. Kalin had given him an honest answer, but not the full truth. He never would have felt like confiding in Radley, but if he had . . . would Radley have stood by him? The Bunch had all confided in him and he had been patient with all of their problems and their distress. Of course, none of their dirty secrets could have been anything like Kalin's. But still . . .

Kalin had also told Radley he didn't like him. Well, not in so many words, but Radley had figured it out. Kalin still remembered the hurt in the other man's eyes. He had found his boss too friendly, too cheery, and he really hadn't believed in his sincerity.

Not sincere? What did Radley have to do to prove himself? Get killed in the mines saving Jordan's life?

The sudden irony hit Kalin hard. Radley had been so discouraged that he had tried and failed so many times to connect with Kalin. Now, Kalin wanted with all his heart to connect with Radley and he could not. Maybe he would never be able to again.

Kalin reached down, grasping the lifeless hand in his as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.