These Dreams…
Rating: T
Pairings: We'll figure them out as we go along, hm?
Summary: Honda-centric fiction. Nobody writes that…and it demands to be written! This is post-Battle City Tournament, the Yamis are gone, and the boys are having a 'boys' night out' at Yuugi's grandfather's place. The sleepover gets a little hairy, however, when nightmares turn into something else entirely.
Disclaimer: The boys of Yu-Gi-Oh! Are not mine, and once I'm finished with them, I'll be returning them to their proper slots pronto.

"Bring him up!"

"Get moving, boy."

He heard the callous voice, echoing in the rising yellow dust amid a sea of uncaring, upturned faces. He couldn't move. Why couldn't he move?

"Born to a pack of the heathen nomads…captured after a fierce battle, this is the only known survivor…"

He missed the rest of the introduction in a wave of sorrow too overwhelming to give proper name, brought to the fore by that word…nomads…

His…family?

His hands were weighted to his sides by warm, restricting bands of iron. Trapped! How could he get free? Blind panic replaced the sadness. He struggled, only to fall. Beyond him were distant, hollowly reverberating screams of laughter. A huge, greedy, hammish hand wrapped around his ankle…

"No!"

At the sound of violent denial, everyone sat bolt upright. Around them, the darkness of the living room lay in a malevolent crouch. Somehow, late night movie marathons tended to bring out the worst in the shadows to the imagination.

Especially after what they'd been through.

Maybe that was why the girls hadn't laughed when they'd planned a sleepover.

"Who…who said that? Is everyone all right?" Yuugi called out, and received various shaken confirmations. He reached out from his nest on the couch and flicked on the lamp, flooding the room with light.

They were all right. It was quiet. As if the voice had never spoken. Yuugi pressed his palm to his forehead, trying to remember. The tone…the sound…it was so familiar…but he hadn't gotten more than the raw fear, before starting awake. And whatever connection he may have made was gone.

"Maybe somebody had a nightmare," Jounouchi snickered, kicking the flap of his sleeping bag aside, knuckle in his mouth to stifle a yawn. "That's the last time we watch Return of the Mummy before we go to bed, Yuugi. I don't think our friends can—"

"Can it," Honda snapped unexpectedly. Everyone turned. He held up his hands, fingers spread in a submissive gesture. "Whoever it was, don't embarrass them, Jou."

"Why not?" Otogi challenged, padding to the television set in his bare feet after a bag of leftover corn chips. "If they're too afraid to speak up and admit it, then they deserve to be picked on."

"Because it's cruel, Otogi," Ryou spoke out, quietly, and held up his hand beseechingly as the dark-haired boy passed with the bag of snacks, "some of us don't want to talk about our bad memories."

Silence fell over the group for a long moment, as one by one, they considered the ice-blond with sober faces. Of all, he had probably suffered the most. There were things he didn't want to talk about. Wouldn't talk about, no matter how sweetly he was coaxed. And even a month after the Battle City Tournament was over, and the world safe again, he wasn't in school.

They understood. He'd been hurt in ways that went beyond skin-deep.

Yuugi fingered the Millenium Puzzle pendant that Yami had left him. He didn't want to know what it felt like to have the other half of his soul ripped from his body. At least Yami had spared him that agony. Their parting had been…easier.

Otogi knelt down beside the pale teen and offered the chips, by way of apology. "Hey, if it was you, it's okay, Bakura," he murmured.

"Don't call me that," Ryou sighed, "please." He dug into the corn chips and snatched a fistful. "And it wasn't me. Really."

"Then who was it?" This from Honda. The others looked at each other in question, but no eyes betrayed their owners, and eventually, it didn't seem all that important. Whoever had cried out, and what it was that made them cry was obviously personal business. At last, Yuugi called a halt, doused the lamp, and insisted that everyone at least try and get some sleep. The muffled sound of crunching and the plastic rustle of the chip bag betrayed Ryou and Otogi as they made the most of their snacks, heedless of any possible resulting tooth decay.

Yuugi and Jounouchi exchanged looks in the dark, and huddled into their sleeping bags once more.

And inches away from where Otogi licked up the last salty crumbs, Honda lay and shivered.

12.13.04 - format cleanup. ugh.
05.19.04 – total overhaul, grammar, proofread, plot holes.