Had to wait since last night to post this, stupid fanfiction's server was down. Glad to finally get to post it.
Yu-Gi-Oh! and all related characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi
"The sad truth is the truth is sad."
― Lemony Snicket - The Hostile Hospital
Chapter 9: Consequences
"I am truly sorry about all of this Mr. Hopkins," Hassan sighed, as he finished signing a form.
The man sitting across from his desk, Arthur Hopkins, regarded the doctor with a cold look, "Sorry does not fix the psychological harm that has been further caused to my granddaughter," he snorted.
"I understand," the doctor replied, glancing at Rebecca a moment. She sat there silently, eyes cloudy and distant due to the sedative she'd been given. Hassan breathed out before turning back to the older man, "Take this to reception, they'll bring you any of Rebecca's personal effects to the front. You'll be free to take her home then."
Doctor Bakura pushed the discharge form towards Arthur who snatched it up, "Unfortunately she won't be going home. I'm taking her somewhere she'll actually get the care she should have had in the first place!"
Arthur helped Rebecca up from her seat, and walked her to the door. He stopped just short of leaving and turned back to Hassan.
"Your superiors will be hearing from me, I can assure you that."
Arthur Hopkins slammed the door in his wake leaving Hassan alone in the office. The doctor held his head a moment, glancing at a framed photo on his desk. The smiles of Ryou and Amane gleamed back at him from behind the slightly dusty sheet of glass. Frowning, the doctor gently set the picture down on its front.
Marik lay still, looking up at the ceiling of his room. The morning staff nurse would be coming to let him out of his room soon. Not that it mattered. There was no one to talk with; Rebecca had disappeared, and Ryou was…gone. Hell, he hadn't seen Hassan either for a few days. Of course he hadn't felt like doing much since the incident in the basement; hadn't felt at all, really. Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely true. His whole body seemed to feel leaden, and achy. A thick, cloudiness occupied his thoughts that he could not shake. On top of it all was fractured sleep that seldom came to him the last few nights, if it chose to at all. He was surprised they hadn't tried to give him another shot to make him sleep. Perhaps Hassan had told them not to after last time?
The door lock unlatched and someone walked in. He assumed it was a nurse, but couldn't muster the energy to look and see. They tapped on his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. Marik glanced to his right and was surprised to see the elusive Doctor Bakura there knelt next to the bed.
"I'm sorry I haven't been here the last few days. I had to…take care of things with Ryou," he paused, "Have you slept at all?"
"Not really. I did try, but…"
"It's alright. I haven't been sleeping well either."
"Because of Ryou?" Marik asked.
Hassan nodded, looking away from the boy. Marik felt his insides clench, and he sat upright.
"Doctor Bakura, I didn't…. it was an accident. I swear-"
"I don't doubt that it was, Marik," Hassan sighed, looking back at him.
His eyes seemed so sad. Marik had never seen him like this before. The doctor had always been so confident in their past meetings. But with Ryou's death, he couldn't blame him for feeling this way. And even though he accepted it as an accident, Marik still felt a prickle of guilt inside. If he had only been stronger, maybe he could have gotten the knife out of Ryou's hand. Maybe talk Ryou out of it if he had said the right things. But what more could he have possibly said? He'd been wracking his brain for days trying to figure out those questions. He had yet to find the answers.
Doctor Bakura seemed to sense what he was thinking, and put a hand on his shoulder in response. Marik glanced at the hand, then at Hassan.
"None of this was your fault. Ryou was…Ryou was very lost. I tried my best to help him find his way, but I don't think he wanted to be found. Rebecca told me after we got her calmed down that you tried to talk to him, but he didn't want to listen. You did what you could Marik, and I did what I could. But mishaps occur that we can't always account for."
"And what about me? What I did to my father…it wasn't on accident, was it?"
"I don't know. But we'll work on this together, I promise."
Marik stared at him for a long time, nodding his head slowly, "Okay…"
Marik walked with the doctor in silence, eyes on the floor, as they made their way to his office. He didn't have the energy to look anywhere else. He was surprised he was even mustering the strength to walk. But he kept telling himself this was for his own good. Even if all he wanted to do was lie down and not get up. Besides, the walk wasn't too far. They should almost be there by now.
Someone grabbed his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. He glanced up to see Nurse Mazaki standing there in front of him.
"You need to watch where you're walking, Marik."
"Sorry…" he murmured to her.
"Just be more careful," she advised before turning to Hassan, "Sir, I thought I should let you know this before you get to your office."
"Let me know about what?" Hassan frowned.
"The Hospital Director is waiting for you there."
"What? How long has he been here?"
"Roughly ten minutes. I tried to page you, but you must have yours shut off."
Hassan cursed under his breath and looked down at Marik, "I'm sorry. I'll be as quick as I can. Just sit in one of the chairs outside while I speak with him, alright?"
"Um, okay," he nodded in reply.
"I shouldn't be too long, I hope," the doctor sighed.
Hassan turned away and hurried the rest of the way to his office without another word. Marik frowned as the doctor retreated, slowly following behind him. He plopped into one of the chairs next to the office door a little harder then he intended; his feet dangling an inch or so off the floor. He swayed them a bit as he wrung at his hands in his lap.
"I hope you don't take too long either…"
"Sir…" Hassan acknowledged, bowing a bit, "Sorry to have kept you waiting."
The Hospital Director stood at the far end of the room, glancing over the reading material that was available in the office. The other man turned from skimming them to Hassan when he heard the greeting. He frowned a bit, pushing the spine of the one he had been taking out back down amongst the others.
"Just don't make it a habit," he said, walking towards Hassan's desk.
Doctor Bakura followed; sitting down behind the desk as the Director also took a seat. That's when he noticed a file folder laying on the top of his desk. He was always meticulous about his patients' files, so where had it come from? He looked across the desk to the Director and frowned.
"Normally you call me ahead of time to schedule a meeting. Has something urgent come up?"
"The hospital has received a formal complaint. One that is potentially harmful to our image as a place of healing."
Hassan scowled a bit, "I assume this has to do with the withdrawal of Rebecca Hopkins from our residence?"
"That is merely the half of the problem," the Director replied, gesturing to the file on Hassan's desk, "After the complaint was filed, I did some research into the matter."
"Did you, now?"
"Yes," he sighed, face becoming a bit softer, "I'm sorry about your nephew, Hassan."
"I should have expected the news would travel fast," Doctor Bakura chuckled, his face falling, "He's at peace now. At least that's my hope," He muttered, glancing at the face down photo on his desk.
"I hope for that as well…" he paused, "However, it is Ryou's death that I have come here to discuss with you."
Hassan clenched his jaw, glaring daggers at the other man, "Must we? My sister and I have only just buried the boy, and you want to reopen the still raw wounds?"
"I realize this is painful for you, but I am concerned for the other patients."
"What could it possibly have to do with the welfare of the other patients?" He growled.
The Director opened the file folder. Inside were images from Ryou's autopsy and of his death in the basement store room.
"You see, doctor, due to your carelessness and lackadaisical security, one of our patients died under your watch."
Hassan felt himself looking away from the photographs, unable to take the stare of those cold, green eyes. The Director was silent as he spread the images out across the surface of the desk. Hassan clenched his fist at the sound of the paper shuffling.
"Why are you doing this?"
He stopped, glancing up at Hassan, "Because I don't want to see what happened to him happen to anyone else."
"What happened to Ryou was an accident-"
"An accident? Is that what the boy told you?" He snorted, "Hassan, leaving your master key to the building where your nephew could find it was an accident. But this I'm unconvinced it should be labeled as such…"
"That…Marik did not kill Ryou. He was trying to help him!"
The Director stood, easily towering over Hassan, "Just like when he attempted to strangle Ryou prior; a detail that you yourself added to his records?"
"He was in an agitated state from having to take a blood test-"
"I suppose he was 'agitated' with his father as well?"
"I…am still trying to help him figure that out…" Hassan hissed.
"And while you do, what happens when another patient or staff member gets attacked? Lest we forget when he bit Doctor Mutou." He rebuffed.
Hassan looked down, "Marik isn't going to attack anyone else," he said.
"You don't sound confident in that, doctor," the Director frowned, folding his arms, "I realize your intentions are good natured, but this is a risk I must avoid taking. That is why I'm ordering the transfer of the patient to our violent ward."
Hassan's head snapped up, his eyes wide, "You can't send him there! He's just a child, Seto!"
"A child that has a body count; one that I do not wish to see grow."
"He's only going to shut down and retreat further into himself if he goes there, and I'm finally making headway with the boy. He might not open up to someone else. I implore you to reconsider!"
Director Kaiba sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You cannot guarantee that his behavior will not escalate. And the staff here is not equipped to handle that. Suppose he turns on you as well?"
"He won't."
There was a long pause before the Director spoke again, "Until it has been determined that he is safe to be around, that is where he will stay. This is not up for debate. He's to be transferred in the morning. I'll make the necessary arrangements for him."
"Please, Sir…don't do this to him. He's been through enough."
"So have you, Doctor," Seto said, staring him eye to eye, "Some time away from each other will be good for the both of you, lest you use the boy as an emotional crutch in your current state of mind."
Hassan hung his head in defeat. Director Kaiba regarded him a moment longer, placing the contents back in the file, before heading towards the office door, "Someone will be here at 8:00 a.m. to retrieve him. So have him ready for transport by then," he paused, "And you would do well to be more careful in the future, Doctor Bakura. Consider this your warning. Should something like this happen again, I will not hesitate to have your license suspended. Have I made myself clear?"
"Quite…"
The Director nodded, leaving the office without another word.
Marik jumped; startled when the door opened. He looked up, expecting Hassan to be there. Instead there was a much taller man in a white suit. He had short brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He stopped to look at him a moment before continuing on his way. Shivering as unease crept up the back of his neck, Marik watched him leave before hoping out of the chair and heading into his doctor's office. He was surprised to see Doctor Bakura sitting at his desk, holding his head, as if in pain.
"Are you okay?"
Hassan looked up at him before turning his eyes away, "Yes, I'm alright…" he sighed, "Shall we start your session for today?"
"Uhm, sure," Marik frowned, looking closer at the older man, "You sure everything is okay?"
"Yes, I'm sure!" Hassan snapped, causing Marik to flinch. He sighed again, "Sorry, I'm just…not myself today."
The child stared at him a moment, "Maybe we shouldn't talk today then? I'd understand if you didn't want to."
Hassan seemed surprised by the boy's response, and smiled a little, "I appreciate the concern from you Marik, but you don't need to worry about me. I promise," He paused a moment, "Why don't you and I take a walk? Get some air. I don't think you've had any for a few days now."
Marik tried to smile at the idea, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do so. Something didn't seem right. Perhaps it was because he could tell the doctor was putting on a face. Not that the façade was holding up very well. But he seemed more…withdrawn then he had before. It could have been a number of things; perhaps Ryou was on his mind again? But he hadn't seemed this despondent earlier.
What had the Director said to him? Come to think of it, he thought he'd heard them arguing behind the door. About what, he couldn't be sure on the specifics. Although the glare he had received from the Hospital Director made him wonder if it had something to do with him. He felt unease start to slither through his mind. He glanced up at the desk, eyes skimming over the objects strewn about on it. He stopped when he saw the manila file folder in the center. There was a name on it: Ryou. Hassan seemed to notice what he was staring at it, and so snatched the item up. Carrying it over to his file cabinet and placing it within one of the drawers.
"Now then, Marik-"
"Am I in trouble?" the boy blurted out.
"What gave you that idea?" Hassan frowned, turning back to him.
"I just…I don't know," he looked away, "I feel like I am."
Hassan stood up and sighed, "Marik, you're not in trouble. Now stop plaguing yourself with such nonsense," he said, walking around the desk to him, "Let's take that walk. It doesn't have to be long if you're not up to it. But…I'd like you to at least get some air."
There was that look again. The look Hassan gave to him when he wasn't being completely honest. Marik vaguely recalled seeing it the day they had first met, when the doctor wouldn't tell him why he was there. And Marik was without a doubt certain that file had been about him. Hassan extending his hand to him was what drew him from his thoughts.
"Let's get going."
Marik frowned and crossed his arms, "I want the truth first."
"The truth?"
"The truth of why the Hospital Director was here. It had to do with me, didn't it?"
"Marik, that's absurd. Of course he wasn't. Now come on," he persisted, holding his hand out again.
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me…" the boy growled.
"There is nothing to tell," the doctor insisted, his tone becoming strained.
Marik sneered, standing up from the chair and shoving it to the floor, "Liar! You never tell me the full truth about anything, and I'm sick of it! It's no wonder Ryou didn't like talking with you anymore! You treat everyone like they're stupid!"
"That is enough, Marik!" Hassan bellowed, grabbing hold of the boy's wrist, "You are way out of line!"
Marik screeched, pulled his hand free, and picked up a pencil holder off the desk. He chucked it at Hassan. The doctor just managed to duck out of the way as the small mesh cylinder went sailing past his head. It crashed into the wall behind him, sending pencils scattering to the floor. As Hassan was standing back up, Marik grabbed the next thing within reach: a picture frame. He threw it as hard as he could. When the doctor turned back to him, it hit him right in the forehead. Hassan hit the floor with an audible thud.
Marik's breathed heavily, watching the spot the doctor had gone down at. But Hassan wasn't getting back up. Was he just out cold or? He felt panic starting to set in. Marik looked down at his hands, thoughts running in circles. If I did that then…maybe I really... the boy pondered. A voice laughed at him in the back of his mind, and Marik felt himself flinch. A film of tears began to cloud his eyes. He took a step away from the desk, running for the door to Hassan's office and not looking back.
Hassan looked back at Marik in time for another object to clock him in the right temple. His back hit the floor as his vision clouded over in a black haze. A moment later, he heard the boy's footfalls running for the door; slamming shut behind him. Groaning, Hassan tried to open his eyes, but found the light from the ceiling to be too bright. He quickly shut them and rubbed his throbbing temple, frowning when he felt a warm trickle of blood running down the side of his face. Marik must have thrown whatever that was pretty hard. He was far stronger then he appeared to be.
Suppose he turns on you as well?
It seemed irony thought it was being amusing today. Oh how cruel a mistress she could be. The Director would be taunting him for sure had he still been in the office. Hassan clasped his hand tightly around the cut before slowly sitting himself upright. Marik was long gone by now. To where, he hadn't the foggiest. Grasping the back of his chair, Hassan managed to lift himself to his feet. He staggered a bit, still dizzy from the blow, and felt something crunch under his shoe. He looked down, lifting his foot to see the framed picture of Ryou and Amane. The glass now cracked in a spider web across their smiling faces.
A pang of remorse shot through him. He would have bent down to retrieve it, had the door to his office not opened. He glanced over and saw Anzu Mazaki standing there.
"Sir, I saw Marik taking off down the hall way, is everything-" she paused when she saw the blood flowing through his fingers, "You're bleeding. What on earth happened?"
"It's just a scratch, nothing to worry over…"
Anzu frowned, walking over to him. She pulled his hand away from his face, revealing an inch and a half long gash across the right side of his forehead.
"Well, it seems shallow enough that I don't think it will need stitches. You're lucky," she commented.
Hassan snorted, smiling a little, "Funny. I don't feel lucky…"
"Be grateful I don't make you need them," she rebuffed, "Now sit down. I'll go get some gauze for that."
"It can wait," Hassan dismissed, "Did you see where Marik-Oof!"
Anzu shoved the doctor down into his chair, "Hassan, call someone else to go look for him. If I come back to find you've moved from this spot, I can guarantee the next time you see me sutures will be involved."
Hassan threw up his hands in surrender. Satisfied he wasn't going anywhere, Anzu left. The doctor sighed, looking down at the broken frame next to his chair. He reached down to retrieve it. Hassan brought the photo closer, a drop of blood spatting down on the glass as he did so; followed closely by a few tears. He wiped them away with his thumb. It smeared together, leaving a rosy trail across Ryou's face in its wake. The doctor closed his eyes, and sighed loudly.
"Forgive me Ryou…" he muttered, "There's nothing more I could have done."
Unsure of where else to go, with no one else to turn to, Marik found himself back at the door to the hospital basement. He wasn't surprised to find it now secured with a padlock; but perhaps he was also a bit disappointed? After all there weren't many places he could go without the doctors noticing him. The boy sighed and sat down in front of the door. He sniffed, wiping at his eyes as thoughts of Ryou flashed through his head. He tried to get himself to stop, wiping frantically at his eyes until the skin was raw, but still he wept.
Marik finally stopped rubbing his eyes long enough to take the drawing from his pocket. The last thing he had of both Rebecca and Ryou. He traced his fingers over the blood-stained angel, and thought it almost fitting. Something so innocent, so pure, was now tainted.
Like me…
He sat there for a few moments, pondering the words that had crossed his mind, before a staff member happened upon him. He looked over at her, face dejected but accepting. The boy offered no resistance as the nurse escorted him back to his room. When he was once again locked within the empty four walls, he sat down on his bed; chin resting on his knees as he hugged his legs to his chest.
Marik's eyes began to feel leaden after a while, and he blinked trying to force them to stay open. But eventually the struggle became too much, and he let them slip closed. He couldn't be certain how long the peaceful dark stayed with him, but at some point he saw someone standing there in the distance; a pair of large white wings extending from their shoulders. Frowning, Marik called out to them. Though he heard no sound come from his mouth, the other person seemed to hear him. They turned around, and Marik felt his breath catch in his throat.
Ryou?
Ryou looked at him, and smiled sadly. The feathers on his wings were billowing in a phantom breeze. They slowly started dropping, blowing towards him in a great white cloud. Marik covered his eyes until the breeze settled down. He looked up to where Ryou had been standing moments before, but the other boy was now gone; the white feathers still falling around him like snow. He held his hand out to catch one as it sailed downwards. It lighted on his palm, and Marik brought it closer. The veins were spotted with blood. He turned it over once in his hand, before holding it to his chest. Marik sighed and closed his eyes again.
The sound of a door opening made him open them again. His vision was bleary, and he had to blink a few times to get the crust of sleep to leave them before he could see properly. Hassan was standing there in the doorway; gauze taped on the right side of his forehead. The doctor and the patient stared eye to eye for several minutes. Hassan was the first to break the unrelenting silence.
"There's something I should have voiced to you yesterday morning."
"Yesterday?"
Hassan nodded, "You fell asleep shortly after the nurse brought you back."
"Oh. What was it you should have told me?" Marik asked.
"I wasn't telling you the whole truth. I'm sorry…"
Marik regarded him silently, not saying a word to him. When he gave no reply, Hassan continued.
"When I met with the Director the other morning, I had no idea what it was he wanted to speak to me about. But you were right Marik; the conversation did have to do with you."
Marik looked down at the floor, "I knew I was in trouble…"
"Marik you're not in trouble," Hassan sighed, "But, the Director is worried about you hurting other patients-"
"I don't want to hurt anyone!"
There was another pause before Hassan spoke again, "I argued in your defense on that matter. But after your outburst the other day, I'm inclined to believe that perhaps his words do have some merit to them."
Marik could feel his mouth getting dry, "W-what are you saying?" He managed to choke out.
"The Director has ordered you be moved to our violent ward; effective today. There is someone coming to pick you up to take you to the building on the other side of the hospital campus. They should be here in a few minutes."
Marik stared him down silently, anger frothing in his stomach the longer he looked at Hassan.
"So that's it then. You're just…giving up on me?"
"I'm not giving up! But-"
"You promised you'd help me! You said we'd figure out what was wrong together!"
"I don't have a choice in this matter either, Marik. My hands are tied."
The boy's face darkened, eyes wet with oncoming tears, "He was right…" Marik murmured.
"Pardon?" Hassan asked.
"I should have listened to him from the start. He told me you couldn't help me, and he was right!"
Hassan frowned, "Who told you that?"
"What does it matter to you anymore?" Marik screamed, "Don't bother acting like you care now, I'm done talking to you!"
The doctor's face fell, "But I do care what happens to you. I care about all of my patients. If it were up to me, I-"
"Just…shut up."
Doctor Bakura sighed, looking off to the side, "Very well. But I do have to ask that you come with me. I have to take you to the front for pick up."
"What if I won't go?"
"Marik, either you come with me of your own volition, or I have you sedated. The latter I'd like to avoid if possible."
"Fine…" he growled, getting up off the bed, "Let's get this over with…"
A black car was parked near the entrance to the hospital as Marik and Doctor Bakura made their way outside. A man stood next to it. Marik neither knew nor cared about who they were, and paid little attention as Hassan spoke to him. Briefly he glimpsed as his former doctor handed over a file folder.
"…he's calm for the moment, so he has not been sedated. It's a short trip, so you should be alright," Hassan commented, looking down at Marik.
Marik looked at the doctor out of the corner of his eye for a moment, and then went back to staring at his own feet. He was startled into looking back up when the other man tapped him on the shoulder. He gently ushered Marik towards the backseat of the car, and the boy reluctantly climbed inside. The door shut behind him, and he hazarded a glance at Hassan as the man climbed into the driver's seat. Hassan looked back at him, his expression unreadable as the engine started up. Marik watched him from the window until he was too far away to see. He sat back down in the seat and remained quiet the rest of the drive.
The building soon loomed into view, and Marik peered out the window as they entered the drive. The building was solid brick, the yard surrounded by a high fence. The windows were clad with thick, iron bars; a striking difference to the Juvenile Ward's. The car stopped at a gate briefly before continuing past it to the front entrance of the building where it finally came to a full stop. A moment later the door opened and he climbed out of the car. There was another Doctor waiting there for him at the door.
He was a little taller than Hassan with shaggy blond hair and hazel eyes. However, he seemed more distinctly Asian than Hassan did. He looked down at Marik, seeming almost surprised. Marik wondered why, but chose not to ask.
"You must be Marik," he greeted, "My name is Katsuya Jonouchi, and I'll be taking over your treatment while you're here."
"Jo-na-ooh-shi?" Marik struggled with the pronunciation of his last name.
"If it's too difficult to remember, just call me Jono," he smiled.
"Okay…" Marik sighed
The new doctor seemed to sense Marik was uncomfortable and frowned a little.
"Well, let's get you settled in. I've got some things we need to discuss afterwards," he informed the child.
Marik just nodded as the new doctor led him inside. The boy stopped to steal one last glance of the outside before the doors shut behind him. He had a feeling it would be the last time he'd get to see it for a long time.