Beware very series one-ish Yami. Protective little bugger, ain't he?
Disclaimer: Nope, no own it. :p Which is probably a good thing, considering what I'm doing to poor Bakura.
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Part 1: Separate
Chapter 7: Yami no Yugi: Addiction
I didn't want to leave Bakura, especially when he got worse and had another fit of hallucinations just as we reached the house. They were worse this time, he kept going on about Ryou and Yugi and Malik (the former two of whom had been dead for eighteen years, and Malik for nearly twenty-five) and Duel Monsters. Gypsy and I managed to get him inside and settled into my bed. Gypsy gave me her cell phone and swore to call me if anything changed or happened to him.
And with that, I was back in the rented car headed for Nice to catch a public plane back to Egypt. It was nearly midnight Franco time when I got to the airport, but I managed to book myself a three a.m. flight to Luxor using both mine and Bakura's credit cards and the savings I'd pulled together over the years in a French bank. I caught a couple hours of sleep in a hard plastic airport chair, and a couple more on the plane. By the time I landed in Luxor and made my way back to the brothel, I was well rested and quite angry. I'd called Gypsy just after landing, and she'd said Bakura was about the same as before, although his bouts of hallucinations were longer now, and he kept complaining of aches and pains all over his body, as well as dizziness.
I stormed into the brothel with Puzzle blazing. Most of the men sitting at tables and waiting for their turns upstairs tried to make themselves invisible after glimpsing the look on my face. The cage in the corner hung empty.
It was the same bartender as the night before, and when he saw me he looked about ready to wet his pants. He squeaked and tried to run out the back door behind the bar, but I waved a hand and a wall of shadow sprang up in his path, blocking the escape. Slowly he turned around, eyes wide and frightened.
I stopped in the middle of the room and cocked a finger at him. He whimpered a little, but slowly came out from behind the bar and toward me. From the warmth on my forehead, I could tell my third eye was blazing brightly. God, I hadn't been that mad in a long time.
The bartender was a good deal taller than me, but the moment he was within my reach I grabbed him by the collar and yanked his face down so it was only inches from mine. He was sweating, and I could smell his fear, but I didn't care. This man had allowed pain to be inflicted on Bakura, probably caused Bakura pain himself, and for that I would show no mercy.
"What's wrong with him?" I hissed, pitching my voice so that it was low and menacing, but at the same time the whole room could hear me.
Oh lookie, he was going to play dumb. "Wh-who do you mean?"
I tightened my grip on his collar, my third eye flaring and making him wince. "You know very well who I mean, bakamono. What have you done to make Horus so sick?"
He actually snickered, then, and I snarled at him. "Are you trying to infuriate me?!" Without noticing, I had invoked the Shadow Realm, and now it was swirling around us, twining around my legs in response to my anger. Dimly I could hear the frightened cries of the other men in the room, but they didn't matter. The smirk immediately vanished from the bartender's face, and he went white.
"H-he's probably in withdrawal," the man stammered, his eyes wide. "P-please affrit, forgive me! I acted only under the orders of Qasim!"
My eyes narrowed. Affrit was the Arabic word for 'demon', which suited me just fine. "Qasim? The man I banished to the Shadows last night?"
The bartender shrugged as well as he could with me hanging on to his collar. "I-I do not know what happened to him. He was owner of this place."
Ah, that explained his comment about Bakura being his possession, then. That just made it all the more sick that he used Bakura for his own twisted pleasure. I wouldn't doubt that the new scars Bakura carried were from this Qasim fellow, too. He seemed like just the type to be into sado-masochism. "And what orders did you follow concerning Horus?" I was trying hard to keep my voice steady, but it wasn't working so well. Both my voice and my hands were trembling in anger.
The bartender whimpered, as if expecting that I wouldn't like what he had to say. "Every m-morning Qasim brought me what I was t-to put in his drink that day, and I did. When he first got here, h-he would not obey Qasim, and Qasim brought me what would make him placid. L-later on Horus could not perform without it, although he never knew what we put in his drinks. To him, it was just exceptionally good alcohol."
My mind went numb. The bartender had said Bakura was probably in withdrawal... Oh gods. They'd drugged him. He was addicted to something, and he didn't even know it. No wonder he was so damn sick, if he'd been taking drugs for seven years...
"Temee..." I hissed, my fists clenched so tight that the bartender was whimpering. And well he should be. The shadows were shrieking now, in response to my rage. They snapped and hissed at the other men, although they didn't touch them until I ordered them to. Shadows billowed around me like a cloak, my third eye and blazing Puzzle a piercing light in the darkness. With a snarl and a wave of my hand, the shadows lept. In a series of cut off screams, the vile men who dared frequent such a place as this were no more. The bartender whimpered, his eyes so wide I could see the whites of them all the way around.
Hissing, I brought him closer so he was staring into all three of my eyes, two physical and one magical. "What is he addicted to?" I bit out each word, my teeth snapping like a rabid dog.
He winced. "P-please honored affrit, it was not my fault! I was only following orders! I-"
"Shut up and answer the damn question!" I snarled.
When he did answer me, I sucked in my breath in horror. "No..." I stared at him, as if he was going to laugh and tell me April Fools. When he didn't, I snarled and put a hand to his forehead, intending to send him to oblivion. Then I paused and thought better of it. Why not put him through all the pain he and his comrades had inflicted on Bakura?
I snapped my fingers, summoning the Dark Magician to oversee. I knew he would make sure the job was done properly. Then I threw the barman to the shadows. I listened to him scream for awhile, stewing in my own anger and horror. It occurred to me for the first time that Bakura might actually die from withdrawal. I couldn't let that happen, no matter what the cost! I had to get back there, find a way to help him heal.
Turning, I nodded to the Magician and let myself fade back into the now empty common room of the brothel. My jaw tight, I walked toward the front door, muttering to myself. There had to be a way to get Bakura through this. I couldn't lose him, not now. Striding down the streets, loose shadows still running at my heels, I pulled out Gypsy's cell phone and dialed my own number. Gypsy answered on the second ring, sounding slightly frantic.
"Hello?!"
I froze in the middle of the street, scared by something in the tone of her voice. "What is it?" I snapped, the hand not holding the cell phone tightening into a fist.
"He's getting worse," she said, sounding worried. "He's started retching, and I can't get him to stop. And that's with the high fever, fits of chills, and delusions."
"He's in withdrawal." I said grimly. "Call Ebon and have him meet me at the brothel. I assume he's still in town? He needs to get me in touch with the Egyptian black market. If Bakura's going to survive, we're going to need to get our hands on a lot of this stuff and ween him off it."
Gypsy gasped, and I could picture her horrified expression. "Oh Allah... What is he on?"
I scowled, my voice dripping with distaste as I spoke the one word that changed all our lives.
"Opium."
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*winces* Please don't hurt me...