Aria: Excellent. More reviews! I live and breathe on these. They mean I'm not a failure.
Bakura: That's what YOU think. Are you ready to end this stupid story now?
Aria: *sigh* Yes. Sad, but true. This is, in fact, the last chapter of "Rescue"...but before I leave this, I'd like to thank all my loyal reviewers. You guys have kept me inspired and enthusiastic about this story, and I hope to see you all again soon! But for now:
Animom: I love that my story has such an effect...you've been a great support and I've very much appreciated all your reviews. You've read Persuasion and Red and Black, too! You must like me! I'm glad you liked last chapter so much...it WAS dedicated to you, after all. I hope this chapter is up to standards...enjoy.
Kinsako: Kill Seto? Perish the thought! That WOULD be unforgivable.
Emme1: Thanks, and thank you also for all your reviews.
Dillon: It was both planned AND inspired, heehee. Here's the thing---free association has a large hand in my writing, and I love associating characters with certain aspects, like smells. Joey reminds me of vanilla, apples, ginger, autumn, sunshine. So back in ch. 5 , I wanted to add another level to Joey's interaction with Seto, so I had him eat an apple...and not Neverwhere, but good guess.
Kagemihari: Yeah, I love Mokuba, too. Especially the way he can interact with both Yugi's group and his brother on such an easy level. Heehee, I've been reading too many Tristan/Jou fics...I didn't even realize I might have written him that way until I looked back! I'm glad you like this so much. I think it's my favorite story that I've written so far.
ColeyCarissa: Thanks!
Oklina: Fall is my favorite season, too. And since Joey and I are both autumn blondes (dark blonde w/brown eyes) I think it really fits! Hope you like this last chapter!
Shousetsuka1: Heehee...thanks! Would you believe I had it all planned that way? I knew I was going to use that scene, I just didn't know how or when.
Sakata Ri Houjun: No worries, I don't do death fics. They're way too sad...I prefer angst, since there's always a satisfactory way of getting out of it. And about Honda...well, I think my next story is going to involve him. I don't think he gets NEARLY enough love.
Yami Hoshiko: Wow, you're enthusiastic. I'm so glad you like it this much...I certainly hope this chapter is up to par. And we'll see about those kisses *wink*
Starflower Sakura: The message board is fun. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update...writer's block is a terrible thing.
Maki: *blushes* Thank you! It's my goal to someday be a real writer, after all, so I'm very flattered. I'm glad you like my story.
Luna-sky: Hey, you read Persuasion too! You must like me! And it certainly did brighten my day. Thanks!
Sakura-chan: Yes, they kissed! I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with that...although I figured it would happen sooner or later. Ah, Kaiba as human. Something the dubbers seem to ignore *RANT* Thanks for the great reviews!
Aria: Finally! The 8th chapter! And yes, it is the final one, but I can almost certainly promise a sequel. There's so much more to write! However, I first need to thank Dillon, without whom there might not have been this 8th chapter. Thanks for the inspiration, Dil, it really helped a lot. Alright! Onward, and "if a do blench!" Hmm. Maybe I'll keep the Hamlet quotes to a minimum...
* * *
Chapter 8: Vertigo
He stumbled back, falling, not into the cold, seducing arms of the wind but rather into something warm and solid and alive. He lost his---their?---balance, and fell back, hitting the floor with a thud. Pain shot up his already bruised leg.
"Ow," came a voice from behind---beneath---him, and he realized, belatedly, that he was on top of---entwined with---long limbs tangled familiarly together with---whoever had wrapped their arms around his waist and kept him from falling, kept him from escaping out into the darkness.
And that whoever was wriggling underneath him, cursing in an all-too familiar voice---one that had been circling his mind for what felt like eternity---for seconds that were really days, weeks, months, eons. Eternities.
He wanted to get up, to say something that cut and burned and ashamed, but his muscles rebelled, shaking uncontrollably, not even letting him get up. Rather, he had to roll awkwardly off, his legs and arms suddenly too long, too clumsy, vaguely aware that he was curling up on the floor, away from the now moving figure beside him, feeling that something vital seemed to have split within him, and that something hot and unfamiliar was slipping down his cheek.
If he hadn't known better, he might have thought it was a tear.
He felt the arm beneath him pull away slowly, felt someone shift beside him, but he didn't---wouldn't---look. Couldn't. Didn't have to.
He knew who it was.
Joey looked at the shaking figure next to him uneasily. He'd snapped. That was the only explanation. All that time and work and pressure had finally flooded right over some carefully kept barrier in Kaiba's mind, forcing him to try burning it out with the most controlled means of destruction Joey had ever seen. Of course, his own ways of dealing with stress, while more obvious, were usually just as destructive, on some level.
Although he didn't quite go in for the whole "slowly-killing-yourself-over-your-company" bit.
Not that he had a company to worry about.
But Kaiba was used to this. Kaiba knew how to deal with this kind of problem....he practically thrived on competition and hardball...so what could be bigger than what he'd seen Kaiba handle before?
Stupid, he thought, and wanted to smack himself as he looked down at the prone figure beside him. It wasn't that it was bigger.
It was just the timing. Years of dealing with first the fears and insecurities of a child, doubled, trebled by life in an orphanage with a younger brother to protect---and then years of mental and emotional abuse from the one person who was supposed to make everything better.
And then those most recent years---years of forcing a company into the spotlight, of creating a legacy, of creating an empire---of creating something uniquely his.
And all of that, alone.
He couldn't---didn't want to---imagine it.
And now there was this unknown version of Kaiba---Kaiba! ---shaking on the floor like---like---like he was vulnerable. Like he could be hurt. Like he was real and human, just a person needing comfort, and all Joey wanted to do was to reach out to him so he did. Scuffing himself up, he sat with one leg crossed underneath him, the other still stretched at an angle that would become uncomfortable in a few moments, but he didn't think about that; instead, he was concentrating on the way the blue coat clung to a lean waist, the way it sloped over long legs and spread in a soft puddle on the floor of the office, watching the shivering muscle play on Kaiba's back under the cloth. He barely noticed the dull thudding of his pulse in his head as he reached out to touch Kaiba's shoulder, pretended he didn't notice the way the other boy stiffened at his touch.
"Hey," he said, his voice oddly rough in the cool silence. "Hey, Kaiba, it's okay now, you know. We can take care of everything, right. You can't---you gotta stop doing this---"
He was cut off by a sudden rumbling through Kaiba's body that manifested as sharp pull and twist and then he was up, standing, his shoulders shaking as he looked down at Joey.
"Can't?" he said, and his voice was so ragged that Joey wondered for a moment if Kaiba's breath had ever caught, if it had ever sobbed like that against his throat before. "Can't?" There was a slightly hysterical edge to the voice now, and Joey thought he saw the clear blue eyes cloud ghostly in the dim light. He shivered.
The wind was still slinking in around the edge of the open window, slipping past the glass with an insidious soft moan, and he felt it stir his hair, the edge of his jacket, his shirt, felt it shiver lightly against his warm skin. Without saying anything more to Seto, he got up, walking over and reaching out to shut the open window.
"Don't shut it yet."
He turned, surprised, but could only see the other boy's back, the slightly shaking shoulders.
"But it's cold."
The shoulders shrugged, filling Joey with a sense of uneasiness. This was something new, something unexpected and he wasn't used to it. Like in the hallway the day before, when he was being confronted by something bigger, harder, colder than Kaiba...and it unnerved him, being this close to something that could so shatter Kaiba's usual cool control.
Fights he could handle. He could blaze up indignities and toss them at Kaiba's arrogant head again and again but this...apathy...wasn't something he could react to. He took a step closer, longing, suddenly, for Kaiba to turn, to glare, to bite off an insult and then wait, cool and secure while Joey blustered his way through a defense.
But he didn't. Didn't turn, didn't straighten, and Joey was left feeling bemused and unexpectedly vulnerable.
And remembering soft cool lips moving beneath his own wasn't helping matters.
"Listen, Kaiba," he said, his eyes narrowing. Bluff it out. "I didn't save your ungrateful ass just to let you get pneumonia now. So I'm gonna close this window, and then you and I are going to a have a little chat."
He saw Kaiba's shoulders flinch, saw the back straighten just a touch, felt a glimmer of hope that Kaiba---his well-known, well-hated adversary---was back, but then they fell and his eyes fell, thinking almost longingly about the old Kaiba---the one he knew how to handle---and so he wasn't prepared for what he heard next.
"You always have to be saving someone, don't you, Joey."
It wasn't a question, wasn't even a well-known, easily-reacted-to taunt. It was only a flat, calm, quiet statement---terrifying in its very simplicity. Spoken by the sanest of voices, he could feel the words stinging his throat, tearing at his mouth as he turned to face the other boy, and yet they came, falling onto Joey's flushing face like droplets of scalding hot water. "You have an acutely overdeveloped sense of heroism. Saving Yugi, saving Serenity, saving Mokuba." His mouth snarled, twisted at the words. "Saving Mai."
Saving me.
"But you can't save everyone, can you, mutt? You can't always win a few million dollars to save someone's eyesight, won't always be able to sacrifice yourself to save someone else. Can't always be there, not even to save your worst enemy."
Why was he saying these things? He could see how they hit Joey, saw, for the first time, it seemed, how brown-gold eyes jolted at each new hurt, at each new challenge, and he watched, waiting, for the familiar blaze to rise up, for the flush to take over and for Joey to act.
Heat, he thought.
"Because, after all, Joey, I don't see you saving yourself so well. In fact, it's usually Yugi saving you, isn't that right? Or do you really care so little about yourself that you'd give up everything to save someone you don't even know?"
He tasted the bitterness on his tongue, on his teeth---wished it unsaid, feeling a sharp, sour triumph, and waited for Joey's reaction.
Any reaction.
Joey turned away.
"I would give up everything," he said.
"And gain nothing," Seto replied, disappointed.
"And gain everything."
"You're even more of a fool than I thought, Wheeler." He watched Joey's back through narrowed eyes, trying to ignore his shaking muscles, trying to ignore the numbing chill that was spreading through him, over him, sliding lovingly along his skin, sinking into his bones---and waited to hear Joey's response, thrilled suddenly, when the other boy spun around, anger blazing in his eyes, his hands clenched into fists that squeezed so tight his knuckles whitened.
"What do you know?" he challenged, his whole body furious with sudden anger. Back on familiar ground, he allowed all his pent-up stresses and worries to erupt, fed the growing heated fury that he spat at Kaiba's immovable figure. "What the hell would you know about what I have and don't have, Kaiba? Just 'cause I don't have some huge, important empire doesn't mean I'm nothing. At least I don't hide from the real world behind work and money and backstabbers in three-piece suits! And, Jesus, Kaiba, it's not like you have so much, either. Except Mokuba. And you won't even talk to him! He's so worried about you, and you just shrug him off! So maybe I don't get anything, but at least I'll risk putting myself out there."
"Don't talk to me about risk, Wheeler!" Seto retorted, stung into a response. Joey took an involuntary step back. "I risk my reputation, my empire, every day." The wind was rising---he could hear it screaming against the windows, around the cold steel of the building. It wrapped around him, like a blanket, dulling the outside world, forcing him further into himself.
He stumbled into a nightmare vision of Owen Daniels sitting alone in an empty apartment, watching with fascination the bright blood welling from a slim cut. "If this company is destroyed, I'm destroyed. Mokuba is destroyed. Everything falls apart. Everything is lost."
"Things fall apart, Kaiba," Joey said warily. "But that doesn't mean you should go and try to---try---"
Kaiba blinked himself out of the rising vertigo, crossing his arms and looking at the flushing boy coolly. "Try what?"
"Dammit, Kaiba!" That flare again. Joey felt heat flick across his skin in tongues of sensation. "You know what I mean. The window---"
"Yes, the window." Kaiba quirked one silky brown eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't knock me out of it when you came barging in here."
"Knock you ou---dammit, Kaiba, you were the one standing there! If I'd come one second later...in case you haven't been keeping count, that's twice now I've saved you!" Joey spat, feeling heat flare deliciously through him. It fed his anger, fed his fury, blocked invading sensations of cool lips moving against his, cool fingers threading through his hair, of warm---hot---hotter---water streaming over palely translucent skin, turned pink from the heat.
"Yes, I suppose it is," Kaiba said calmly. "Congratulations, Joey, you've finally learned to count."
Joey glared, unsure. "You bastard," he growled, and felt a deep sensation of---was that disappointment? He was disappointed in Kaiba's reaction?
No, he thought, with a sudden fierce clarity. No, I'm not disappointed in Kaiba. After all, wasn't this what he'd come to expect from their encounters?
Disappointed in myself, he thought. It made sense---he'd been fighting against falling back into the fights, into the anger and the jealousy, but he fell for it anyway. Fell for the taunts, the jabs, reacted without thinking, without realizing---
He hated him. Hated the way that silky brown eyebrow quirked up, hated the play of shadows and exhaustion on the pale face, hated the clear intelligence in startlingly blue eyes. Hated how, looking at him, his heart thudded roughly, how his chest felt too small, how heat flooded up his neck and down his back in soft, irresistible waves.
"I wasn't going to jump," Seto said softly. So softly that Joey almost missed the words, ranting as he was, but he was not yet so carried away as to miss even a syllable that dropped from the other's mouth. "I wasn't. I just..."
He was so tired.
So tired.
Joey shifted uneasily.
He wanted to leave, wanted to walk out of here, past those clear, painfully clear blue eyes, out and away from whatever was freezing Kaiba solid, icing him over in quartz and frost. He wanted to run. To slam a door between them and run until his legs and muscles and throbbing veins burned with exertion, until he'd burned out all memory of standing here helpless, until he'd scalded himself clean and raw and exhausted, because he didn't know if he could stand here any longer, watching Kaiba crumble.
Watching, and unable to do anything.
Can't always be there.
"It's not like I have to come save you, Kaiba," he continued, a little roughly, "but you might try being a little more grateful. It kinda makes me wonder why I bothered, actually."
"So why did you?"
They dropped from his mouth, bitter and low, and had an incredible effect. He watched as Joey's eyes flashed and then deepened, their gleam dimmed behind a wall of bright shaggy hair as Joey looked down, away, out towards the window that gleamed darkly.
For his part, Joey was caught in sudden struggle between his sense of the "truth" and what he'd been telling himself all along. I knew something was wrong, he told himself righteously.
I can't let Kaiba stay in trouble just because he's a bastard. Can't not help him just because I don't like him.
But the words rang hollowly in his head, overpowered by a sudden, painfully real memory of steaming water falling down on him, of holding up a limp, cold Kaiba, eyes half-lidded and lazy with cold and exhaustion, and in his vision he watched again water streaming through silky brown hair, over the delicate pale face, pinking translucent skin.
And in his memory, Kaiba looked up, and he closed his eyes against the sudden blue and remembered bending down and pressing his lips to the cool ones beneath him, feeling the slight shudder that went through Kaiba's lean frame at the touch.
And then the memory shifted, changed, and it was no longer a memory but only sensations, flicking across his eyelids in swathes of blue light. He imagined laying his hands on Kaiba's bare shoulders, pushing the other boy back onto the twisted sheets, imagined cool skin burning under his touch, imagined cool lips moving against his own. He thought about trailing his fingers along the path the water had taken, softly across pale planes of muscle and bone, watching as soft skin shivered beneath his touch, thought about the feel of warm sheets clustered beneath him as he settled down beside Kaiba, resting his hand lightly on the other's collarbone, tracing it delicately.
And then he thought about those blue eyes opening, and flaring with heat, and imagined Kaiba lifting himself up on an elbow, taking Joey's face in one strong, long-fingered hand and crushing their lips together in a sudden storm of heat and flare and surging passion. He imagined falling back against soft sheets, his head thudding gently into a pillow with Kaiba's lean frame on top of him, his hands flattening against Kaiba's back, pulling him in, feeling fingers grip his hair and Kaiba's mouth moving desperately against his, hot and wet and---more---a lithe body writhing against his as each pressed himself further into the other, longing for more touch, more heat, more contact.
And then he looked up, and saw that across the room, Kaiba was watching him, and his heart slammed into his throat.
"I---" he stammered, looking wildly around the room, searching for something to say. Something to lever himself out of this unexpected scenario. "Jeez, Kaiba, of course I'm going to try and help, even if you are, you know, you. That's no reason for me to not try to help out if something's wrong.
"And something is wrong, isn't it." He waited, although unsure as to what he was waiting for. Maybe for Kaiba to admit to a weakness, maybe for his mind to come to terms with what he'd just experienced.
He longed, desperately, unexpectedly, to argue with Kaiba, to pit himself flush against the other boy, will against will, straining and burning and testing each other---something, anything to get away from the residual traces of heat that kept sparking through him---but Kaiba silent---Kaiba unsure---this was new. This was different, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to break the quiet, uneasy peace that had infiltrated the room.
"I mean, come on, Kaiba. You missed school. You cut out the heat to your pool and almost killed yourself twice now. And I'm not saying you did it on purpose," he shifted, and ran a nervous hand through his hair, "but that's what happened and I figure I have a right to know why you're trying to destroy yourself."
"I'm not trying anything of the sort," Kaiba said venomously, making an effort to surface from a swirling waking dream. Bright brown eyes looked up at him piercingly. "Not that you'd understand."
"You'd be surprised," Joey muttered, looking back at the window. He could see himself, ghostly, in the glass, and wondered.
"It wasn't your fault, you know."
Seto looked at him, his eyes narrowing, his exhausted heart thudding a little faster in his chest, and he fought against the vertigo that suddenly swept the room. He didn't want to fall.
He didn't want to---
His own voice surprised him, rough and soft against the cooling air. "I don't know what you mean."
Joey didn't turn, and now Seto looked past him, into the glass, into the dark swirling cold that flooded against the cool window.
And shivered.
What would have happened if Joey hadn't been there?
He almost didn't notice that the other boy was speaking, words falling quietly, steadily from his mouth, like rain, like leaves, but he heard something about Owen Daniels and something else about it not being his fault that the guy was depressive and used to cut himself, and he thought he heard something to do with Daniels not being that badly hurt, and recovering well, but he felt exhaustion sinking through him and slid down against a wall, leaning his head back and letting Joey's voice continue uninterrupted, because it was low and soothing and a lifeline to the real world that was slowly fading away before his eyes.
The voice paused, and he saw a dark shape move towards him slowly, leaning over him for a moment before bending down and shrinking into a dim blur in the surrounding darkness. He closed his eyes, feeling his breathing even, feeling a gentle lifting of weight from his chest, feeling the tremble of his muscles and feeling acutely the warm hand that hesitantly touched his forehead.
Joey knelt in front of him, worried. He'd done his best to convey to Kaiba the meaning of what he'd been saying, but it seemed to have sunk in without any noticeable effect.
"Kaiba?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes darting over the pale face before him. He reached out slowly, touched his palm gently against the other boy's forehead. He felt so cool.
"Did you hear me?" he asked, edging a little closer and watching delicate eyelids flicker.
Kaiba shifted a little. "I heard," he said, but didn't open his eyes. The darkness was so warm and comforting, and he didn't want to wake from it back into the real world yet. Wanted to stay free of businesses and disappointed little brothers and always trying to be the best, and then being better.
For a little while, at least.
"Look, Kaiba," Joey said, as gently as he could while fighting back a rising panic, "you still aren't exactly at the peak of health. I mean, geez," his fingers traveled lightly over a lock of silky hair that lay across the pale forehead, and he swallowed, hard. "Your hair is still damp, and everything."
Kaiba didn't reply, but he didn't flinch away, either, and Joey's fingers didn't move away, but stayed instead stroking gently over loose strands of damp hair. He was thinking of falling drops of steaming water, of delicate skin pinked by the heat, of tangled sheets and a mouth pressed gently against his own, and when Kaiba opened his eyes, lazy with exhaustion and brilliant in the gloom, he didn't think and didn't talk but instead, moved his hand gently to the back of Kaiba's neck and moved forward to press his mouth against the softly sighing one before him.
Slowly he kissed Kaiba, slow and deep and warm, sliding his hand up to tangle itself in the silky brown hair, pulling away only to lay his forehead against Kaiba's, feeling warm breath on his mouth and heat sparking suddenly deep in him and he moved forward again, only to be met with delicate long fingers that slid up his jaw and behind his head, gripping his hair and pulling him forward with more strength than he'd thought Kaiba was capable of, and his mouth was met by another demanding one, moving against his with a flaring urgency that sent flickers of heat shuddering through him and he pressed himself to Kaiba, on his knees now pulling the other boy against him and wrapping arms around the lean waist, feeling only hands and fingers and hot mouth against his, sliding his hands up Kaiba's smooth back and hearing a name, his name whispered softly into the warming darkness.
And when Kaiba fell asleep with Joey's shirt as a pillow while Joey's fingers traced delicate patterns over the pale skin of his arms, Joey looked out at the window gleaming darkly, and saw their reflection dim in the darkness, and smiled.
* * *
Epilogue
He woke in warm darkness, his eyes wide open and seeing nothing in the purple shadows, but he felt warm and relaxed and content, melting into soft, tumbled sheets and pillows, free for once of the shivering sense of wind wrapping around his legs and body and mind.
A soft snore alerted him, and he sat up, blinking in the gloom until his eyes became used to it, and he could make out a long dark shape on the far side of the bed, lying over the sheets in crumpled clothes with one hand under a pillow, curled up into itself so as to take up as little room as possible.
Seto looked at the figure for a long moment, feeling awake as he hadn't in days, feeling relaxed as he hadn't in months. Years. Questions rose in his sudden clarity of mind, noisy, tumultuous, asking what was going, on, asking what would happen, asking what he felt and thought and why, looking at the sleeping boy near him, he was aware of only warmth and life and welcoming darkness lulling him back into sleep.
So he lay back down, and closed his eyes, and slept again, feeling gentle fingers smooth over his forehead and a low voice over the howling of the wind, which could not get in.
* * *
Aria: *long pause* Well. I suppose that's it, folks. The end of this particular story, if you will, but I can promise you that there will be a sequel. I just can't work it into this chapter, but it's there and I need to write it. What happens when they wake up? How will they come to grips with their new relationship? What will the others think? I'm sorry if any of you are disappointed in this ending, but I promise I'll be back soon to continue with this story. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, without whom this tale would never have been finished.
Bakura: That's what YOU think. Are you ready to end this stupid story now?
Aria: *sigh* Yes. Sad, but true. This is, in fact, the last chapter of "Rescue"...but before I leave this, I'd like to thank all my loyal reviewers. You guys have kept me inspired and enthusiastic about this story, and I hope to see you all again soon! But for now:
Animom: I love that my story has such an effect...you've been a great support and I've very much appreciated all your reviews. You've read Persuasion and Red and Black, too! You must like me! I'm glad you liked last chapter so much...it WAS dedicated to you, after all. I hope this chapter is up to standards...enjoy.
Kinsako: Kill Seto? Perish the thought! That WOULD be unforgivable.
Emme1: Thanks, and thank you also for all your reviews.
Dillon: It was both planned AND inspired, heehee. Here's the thing---free association has a large hand in my writing, and I love associating characters with certain aspects, like smells. Joey reminds me of vanilla, apples, ginger, autumn, sunshine. So back in ch. 5 , I wanted to add another level to Joey's interaction with Seto, so I had him eat an apple...and not Neverwhere, but good guess.
Kagemihari: Yeah, I love Mokuba, too. Especially the way he can interact with both Yugi's group and his brother on such an easy level. Heehee, I've been reading too many Tristan/Jou fics...I didn't even realize I might have written him that way until I looked back! I'm glad you like this so much. I think it's my favorite story that I've written so far.
ColeyCarissa: Thanks!
Oklina: Fall is my favorite season, too. And since Joey and I are both autumn blondes (dark blonde w/brown eyes) I think it really fits! Hope you like this last chapter!
Shousetsuka1: Heehee...thanks! Would you believe I had it all planned that way? I knew I was going to use that scene, I just didn't know how or when.
Sakata Ri Houjun: No worries, I don't do death fics. They're way too sad...I prefer angst, since there's always a satisfactory way of getting out of it. And about Honda...well, I think my next story is going to involve him. I don't think he gets NEARLY enough love.
Yami Hoshiko: Wow, you're enthusiastic. I'm so glad you like it this much...I certainly hope this chapter is up to par. And we'll see about those kisses *wink*
Starflower Sakura: The message board is fun. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update...writer's block is a terrible thing.
Maki: *blushes* Thank you! It's my goal to someday be a real writer, after all, so I'm very flattered. I'm glad you like my story.
Luna-sky: Hey, you read Persuasion too! You must like me! And it certainly did brighten my day. Thanks!
Sakura-chan: Yes, they kissed! I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with that...although I figured it would happen sooner or later. Ah, Kaiba as human. Something the dubbers seem to ignore *RANT* Thanks for the great reviews!
Aria: Finally! The 8th chapter! And yes, it is the final one, but I can almost certainly promise a sequel. There's so much more to write! However, I first need to thank Dillon, without whom there might not have been this 8th chapter. Thanks for the inspiration, Dil, it really helped a lot. Alright! Onward, and "if a do blench!" Hmm. Maybe I'll keep the Hamlet quotes to a minimum...
* * *
Chapter 8: Vertigo
He stumbled back, falling, not into the cold, seducing arms of the wind but rather into something warm and solid and alive. He lost his---their?---balance, and fell back, hitting the floor with a thud. Pain shot up his already bruised leg.
"Ow," came a voice from behind---beneath---him, and he realized, belatedly, that he was on top of---entwined with---long limbs tangled familiarly together with---whoever had wrapped their arms around his waist and kept him from falling, kept him from escaping out into the darkness.
And that whoever was wriggling underneath him, cursing in an all-too familiar voice---one that had been circling his mind for what felt like eternity---for seconds that were really days, weeks, months, eons. Eternities.
He wanted to get up, to say something that cut and burned and ashamed, but his muscles rebelled, shaking uncontrollably, not even letting him get up. Rather, he had to roll awkwardly off, his legs and arms suddenly too long, too clumsy, vaguely aware that he was curling up on the floor, away from the now moving figure beside him, feeling that something vital seemed to have split within him, and that something hot and unfamiliar was slipping down his cheek.
If he hadn't known better, he might have thought it was a tear.
He felt the arm beneath him pull away slowly, felt someone shift beside him, but he didn't---wouldn't---look. Couldn't. Didn't have to.
He knew who it was.
Joey looked at the shaking figure next to him uneasily. He'd snapped. That was the only explanation. All that time and work and pressure had finally flooded right over some carefully kept barrier in Kaiba's mind, forcing him to try burning it out with the most controlled means of destruction Joey had ever seen. Of course, his own ways of dealing with stress, while more obvious, were usually just as destructive, on some level.
Although he didn't quite go in for the whole "slowly-killing-yourself-over-your-company" bit.
Not that he had a company to worry about.
But Kaiba was used to this. Kaiba knew how to deal with this kind of problem....he practically thrived on competition and hardball...so what could be bigger than what he'd seen Kaiba handle before?
Stupid, he thought, and wanted to smack himself as he looked down at the prone figure beside him. It wasn't that it was bigger.
It was just the timing. Years of dealing with first the fears and insecurities of a child, doubled, trebled by life in an orphanage with a younger brother to protect---and then years of mental and emotional abuse from the one person who was supposed to make everything better.
And then those most recent years---years of forcing a company into the spotlight, of creating a legacy, of creating an empire---of creating something uniquely his.
And all of that, alone.
He couldn't---didn't want to---imagine it.
And now there was this unknown version of Kaiba---Kaiba! ---shaking on the floor like---like---like he was vulnerable. Like he could be hurt. Like he was real and human, just a person needing comfort, and all Joey wanted to do was to reach out to him so he did. Scuffing himself up, he sat with one leg crossed underneath him, the other still stretched at an angle that would become uncomfortable in a few moments, but he didn't think about that; instead, he was concentrating on the way the blue coat clung to a lean waist, the way it sloped over long legs and spread in a soft puddle on the floor of the office, watching the shivering muscle play on Kaiba's back under the cloth. He barely noticed the dull thudding of his pulse in his head as he reached out to touch Kaiba's shoulder, pretended he didn't notice the way the other boy stiffened at his touch.
"Hey," he said, his voice oddly rough in the cool silence. "Hey, Kaiba, it's okay now, you know. We can take care of everything, right. You can't---you gotta stop doing this---"
He was cut off by a sudden rumbling through Kaiba's body that manifested as sharp pull and twist and then he was up, standing, his shoulders shaking as he looked down at Joey.
"Can't?" he said, and his voice was so ragged that Joey wondered for a moment if Kaiba's breath had ever caught, if it had ever sobbed like that against his throat before. "Can't?" There was a slightly hysterical edge to the voice now, and Joey thought he saw the clear blue eyes cloud ghostly in the dim light. He shivered.
The wind was still slinking in around the edge of the open window, slipping past the glass with an insidious soft moan, and he felt it stir his hair, the edge of his jacket, his shirt, felt it shiver lightly against his warm skin. Without saying anything more to Seto, he got up, walking over and reaching out to shut the open window.
"Don't shut it yet."
He turned, surprised, but could only see the other boy's back, the slightly shaking shoulders.
"But it's cold."
The shoulders shrugged, filling Joey with a sense of uneasiness. This was something new, something unexpected and he wasn't used to it. Like in the hallway the day before, when he was being confronted by something bigger, harder, colder than Kaiba...and it unnerved him, being this close to something that could so shatter Kaiba's usual cool control.
Fights he could handle. He could blaze up indignities and toss them at Kaiba's arrogant head again and again but this...apathy...wasn't something he could react to. He took a step closer, longing, suddenly, for Kaiba to turn, to glare, to bite off an insult and then wait, cool and secure while Joey blustered his way through a defense.
But he didn't. Didn't turn, didn't straighten, and Joey was left feeling bemused and unexpectedly vulnerable.
And remembering soft cool lips moving beneath his own wasn't helping matters.
"Listen, Kaiba," he said, his eyes narrowing. Bluff it out. "I didn't save your ungrateful ass just to let you get pneumonia now. So I'm gonna close this window, and then you and I are going to a have a little chat."
He saw Kaiba's shoulders flinch, saw the back straighten just a touch, felt a glimmer of hope that Kaiba---his well-known, well-hated adversary---was back, but then they fell and his eyes fell, thinking almost longingly about the old Kaiba---the one he knew how to handle---and so he wasn't prepared for what he heard next.
"You always have to be saving someone, don't you, Joey."
It wasn't a question, wasn't even a well-known, easily-reacted-to taunt. It was only a flat, calm, quiet statement---terrifying in its very simplicity. Spoken by the sanest of voices, he could feel the words stinging his throat, tearing at his mouth as he turned to face the other boy, and yet they came, falling onto Joey's flushing face like droplets of scalding hot water. "You have an acutely overdeveloped sense of heroism. Saving Yugi, saving Serenity, saving Mokuba." His mouth snarled, twisted at the words. "Saving Mai."
Saving me.
"But you can't save everyone, can you, mutt? You can't always win a few million dollars to save someone's eyesight, won't always be able to sacrifice yourself to save someone else. Can't always be there, not even to save your worst enemy."
Why was he saying these things? He could see how they hit Joey, saw, for the first time, it seemed, how brown-gold eyes jolted at each new hurt, at each new challenge, and he watched, waiting, for the familiar blaze to rise up, for the flush to take over and for Joey to act.
Heat, he thought.
"Because, after all, Joey, I don't see you saving yourself so well. In fact, it's usually Yugi saving you, isn't that right? Or do you really care so little about yourself that you'd give up everything to save someone you don't even know?"
He tasted the bitterness on his tongue, on his teeth---wished it unsaid, feeling a sharp, sour triumph, and waited for Joey's reaction.
Any reaction.
Joey turned away.
"I would give up everything," he said.
"And gain nothing," Seto replied, disappointed.
"And gain everything."
"You're even more of a fool than I thought, Wheeler." He watched Joey's back through narrowed eyes, trying to ignore his shaking muscles, trying to ignore the numbing chill that was spreading through him, over him, sliding lovingly along his skin, sinking into his bones---and waited to hear Joey's response, thrilled suddenly, when the other boy spun around, anger blazing in his eyes, his hands clenched into fists that squeezed so tight his knuckles whitened.
"What do you know?" he challenged, his whole body furious with sudden anger. Back on familiar ground, he allowed all his pent-up stresses and worries to erupt, fed the growing heated fury that he spat at Kaiba's immovable figure. "What the hell would you know about what I have and don't have, Kaiba? Just 'cause I don't have some huge, important empire doesn't mean I'm nothing. At least I don't hide from the real world behind work and money and backstabbers in three-piece suits! And, Jesus, Kaiba, it's not like you have so much, either. Except Mokuba. And you won't even talk to him! He's so worried about you, and you just shrug him off! So maybe I don't get anything, but at least I'll risk putting myself out there."
"Don't talk to me about risk, Wheeler!" Seto retorted, stung into a response. Joey took an involuntary step back. "I risk my reputation, my empire, every day." The wind was rising---he could hear it screaming against the windows, around the cold steel of the building. It wrapped around him, like a blanket, dulling the outside world, forcing him further into himself.
He stumbled into a nightmare vision of Owen Daniels sitting alone in an empty apartment, watching with fascination the bright blood welling from a slim cut. "If this company is destroyed, I'm destroyed. Mokuba is destroyed. Everything falls apart. Everything is lost."
"Things fall apart, Kaiba," Joey said warily. "But that doesn't mean you should go and try to---try---"
Kaiba blinked himself out of the rising vertigo, crossing his arms and looking at the flushing boy coolly. "Try what?"
"Dammit, Kaiba!" That flare again. Joey felt heat flick across his skin in tongues of sensation. "You know what I mean. The window---"
"Yes, the window." Kaiba quirked one silky brown eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't knock me out of it when you came barging in here."
"Knock you ou---dammit, Kaiba, you were the one standing there! If I'd come one second later...in case you haven't been keeping count, that's twice now I've saved you!" Joey spat, feeling heat flare deliciously through him. It fed his anger, fed his fury, blocked invading sensations of cool lips moving against his, cool fingers threading through his hair, of warm---hot---hotter---water streaming over palely translucent skin, turned pink from the heat.
"Yes, I suppose it is," Kaiba said calmly. "Congratulations, Joey, you've finally learned to count."
Joey glared, unsure. "You bastard," he growled, and felt a deep sensation of---was that disappointment? He was disappointed in Kaiba's reaction?
No, he thought, with a sudden fierce clarity. No, I'm not disappointed in Kaiba. After all, wasn't this what he'd come to expect from their encounters?
Disappointed in myself, he thought. It made sense---he'd been fighting against falling back into the fights, into the anger and the jealousy, but he fell for it anyway. Fell for the taunts, the jabs, reacted without thinking, without realizing---
He hated him. Hated the way that silky brown eyebrow quirked up, hated the play of shadows and exhaustion on the pale face, hated the clear intelligence in startlingly blue eyes. Hated how, looking at him, his heart thudded roughly, how his chest felt too small, how heat flooded up his neck and down his back in soft, irresistible waves.
"I wasn't going to jump," Seto said softly. So softly that Joey almost missed the words, ranting as he was, but he was not yet so carried away as to miss even a syllable that dropped from the other's mouth. "I wasn't. I just..."
He was so tired.
So tired.
Joey shifted uneasily.
He wanted to leave, wanted to walk out of here, past those clear, painfully clear blue eyes, out and away from whatever was freezing Kaiba solid, icing him over in quartz and frost. He wanted to run. To slam a door between them and run until his legs and muscles and throbbing veins burned with exertion, until he'd burned out all memory of standing here helpless, until he'd scalded himself clean and raw and exhausted, because he didn't know if he could stand here any longer, watching Kaiba crumble.
Watching, and unable to do anything.
Can't always be there.
"It's not like I have to come save you, Kaiba," he continued, a little roughly, "but you might try being a little more grateful. It kinda makes me wonder why I bothered, actually."
"So why did you?"
They dropped from his mouth, bitter and low, and had an incredible effect. He watched as Joey's eyes flashed and then deepened, their gleam dimmed behind a wall of bright shaggy hair as Joey looked down, away, out towards the window that gleamed darkly.
For his part, Joey was caught in sudden struggle between his sense of the "truth" and what he'd been telling himself all along. I knew something was wrong, he told himself righteously.
I can't let Kaiba stay in trouble just because he's a bastard. Can't not help him just because I don't like him.
But the words rang hollowly in his head, overpowered by a sudden, painfully real memory of steaming water falling down on him, of holding up a limp, cold Kaiba, eyes half-lidded and lazy with cold and exhaustion, and in his vision he watched again water streaming through silky brown hair, over the delicate pale face, pinking translucent skin.
And in his memory, Kaiba looked up, and he closed his eyes against the sudden blue and remembered bending down and pressing his lips to the cool ones beneath him, feeling the slight shudder that went through Kaiba's lean frame at the touch.
And then the memory shifted, changed, and it was no longer a memory but only sensations, flicking across his eyelids in swathes of blue light. He imagined laying his hands on Kaiba's bare shoulders, pushing the other boy back onto the twisted sheets, imagined cool skin burning under his touch, imagined cool lips moving against his own. He thought about trailing his fingers along the path the water had taken, softly across pale planes of muscle and bone, watching as soft skin shivered beneath his touch, thought about the feel of warm sheets clustered beneath him as he settled down beside Kaiba, resting his hand lightly on the other's collarbone, tracing it delicately.
And then he thought about those blue eyes opening, and flaring with heat, and imagined Kaiba lifting himself up on an elbow, taking Joey's face in one strong, long-fingered hand and crushing their lips together in a sudden storm of heat and flare and surging passion. He imagined falling back against soft sheets, his head thudding gently into a pillow with Kaiba's lean frame on top of him, his hands flattening against Kaiba's back, pulling him in, feeling fingers grip his hair and Kaiba's mouth moving desperately against his, hot and wet and---more---a lithe body writhing against his as each pressed himself further into the other, longing for more touch, more heat, more contact.
And then he looked up, and saw that across the room, Kaiba was watching him, and his heart slammed into his throat.
"I---" he stammered, looking wildly around the room, searching for something to say. Something to lever himself out of this unexpected scenario. "Jeez, Kaiba, of course I'm going to try and help, even if you are, you know, you. That's no reason for me to not try to help out if something's wrong.
"And something is wrong, isn't it." He waited, although unsure as to what he was waiting for. Maybe for Kaiba to admit to a weakness, maybe for his mind to come to terms with what he'd just experienced.
He longed, desperately, unexpectedly, to argue with Kaiba, to pit himself flush against the other boy, will against will, straining and burning and testing each other---something, anything to get away from the residual traces of heat that kept sparking through him---but Kaiba silent---Kaiba unsure---this was new. This was different, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to break the quiet, uneasy peace that had infiltrated the room.
"I mean, come on, Kaiba. You missed school. You cut out the heat to your pool and almost killed yourself twice now. And I'm not saying you did it on purpose," he shifted, and ran a nervous hand through his hair, "but that's what happened and I figure I have a right to know why you're trying to destroy yourself."
"I'm not trying anything of the sort," Kaiba said venomously, making an effort to surface from a swirling waking dream. Bright brown eyes looked up at him piercingly. "Not that you'd understand."
"You'd be surprised," Joey muttered, looking back at the window. He could see himself, ghostly, in the glass, and wondered.
"It wasn't your fault, you know."
Seto looked at him, his eyes narrowing, his exhausted heart thudding a little faster in his chest, and he fought against the vertigo that suddenly swept the room. He didn't want to fall.
He didn't want to---
His own voice surprised him, rough and soft against the cooling air. "I don't know what you mean."
Joey didn't turn, and now Seto looked past him, into the glass, into the dark swirling cold that flooded against the cool window.
And shivered.
What would have happened if Joey hadn't been there?
He almost didn't notice that the other boy was speaking, words falling quietly, steadily from his mouth, like rain, like leaves, but he heard something about Owen Daniels and something else about it not being his fault that the guy was depressive and used to cut himself, and he thought he heard something to do with Daniels not being that badly hurt, and recovering well, but he felt exhaustion sinking through him and slid down against a wall, leaning his head back and letting Joey's voice continue uninterrupted, because it was low and soothing and a lifeline to the real world that was slowly fading away before his eyes.
The voice paused, and he saw a dark shape move towards him slowly, leaning over him for a moment before bending down and shrinking into a dim blur in the surrounding darkness. He closed his eyes, feeling his breathing even, feeling a gentle lifting of weight from his chest, feeling the tremble of his muscles and feeling acutely the warm hand that hesitantly touched his forehead.
Joey knelt in front of him, worried. He'd done his best to convey to Kaiba the meaning of what he'd been saying, but it seemed to have sunk in without any noticeable effect.
"Kaiba?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes darting over the pale face before him. He reached out slowly, touched his palm gently against the other boy's forehead. He felt so cool.
"Did you hear me?" he asked, edging a little closer and watching delicate eyelids flicker.
Kaiba shifted a little. "I heard," he said, but didn't open his eyes. The darkness was so warm and comforting, and he didn't want to wake from it back into the real world yet. Wanted to stay free of businesses and disappointed little brothers and always trying to be the best, and then being better.
For a little while, at least.
"Look, Kaiba," Joey said, as gently as he could while fighting back a rising panic, "you still aren't exactly at the peak of health. I mean, geez," his fingers traveled lightly over a lock of silky hair that lay across the pale forehead, and he swallowed, hard. "Your hair is still damp, and everything."
Kaiba didn't reply, but he didn't flinch away, either, and Joey's fingers didn't move away, but stayed instead stroking gently over loose strands of damp hair. He was thinking of falling drops of steaming water, of delicate skin pinked by the heat, of tangled sheets and a mouth pressed gently against his own, and when Kaiba opened his eyes, lazy with exhaustion and brilliant in the gloom, he didn't think and didn't talk but instead, moved his hand gently to the back of Kaiba's neck and moved forward to press his mouth against the softly sighing one before him.
Slowly he kissed Kaiba, slow and deep and warm, sliding his hand up to tangle itself in the silky brown hair, pulling away only to lay his forehead against Kaiba's, feeling warm breath on his mouth and heat sparking suddenly deep in him and he moved forward again, only to be met with delicate long fingers that slid up his jaw and behind his head, gripping his hair and pulling him forward with more strength than he'd thought Kaiba was capable of, and his mouth was met by another demanding one, moving against his with a flaring urgency that sent flickers of heat shuddering through him and he pressed himself to Kaiba, on his knees now pulling the other boy against him and wrapping arms around the lean waist, feeling only hands and fingers and hot mouth against his, sliding his hands up Kaiba's smooth back and hearing a name, his name whispered softly into the warming darkness.
And when Kaiba fell asleep with Joey's shirt as a pillow while Joey's fingers traced delicate patterns over the pale skin of his arms, Joey looked out at the window gleaming darkly, and saw their reflection dim in the darkness, and smiled.
* * *
Epilogue
He woke in warm darkness, his eyes wide open and seeing nothing in the purple shadows, but he felt warm and relaxed and content, melting into soft, tumbled sheets and pillows, free for once of the shivering sense of wind wrapping around his legs and body and mind.
A soft snore alerted him, and he sat up, blinking in the gloom until his eyes became used to it, and he could make out a long dark shape on the far side of the bed, lying over the sheets in crumpled clothes with one hand under a pillow, curled up into itself so as to take up as little room as possible.
Seto looked at the figure for a long moment, feeling awake as he hadn't in days, feeling relaxed as he hadn't in months. Years. Questions rose in his sudden clarity of mind, noisy, tumultuous, asking what was going, on, asking what would happen, asking what he felt and thought and why, looking at the sleeping boy near him, he was aware of only warmth and life and welcoming darkness lulling him back into sleep.
So he lay back down, and closed his eyes, and slept again, feeling gentle fingers smooth over his forehead and a low voice over the howling of the wind, which could not get in.
* * *
Aria: *long pause* Well. I suppose that's it, folks. The end of this particular story, if you will, but I can promise you that there will be a sequel. I just can't work it into this chapter, but it's there and I need to write it. What happens when they wake up? How will they come to grips with their new relationship? What will the others think? I'm sorry if any of you are disappointed in this ending, but I promise I'll be back soon to continue with this story. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, without whom this tale would never have been finished.