Chapter 2: In Sickness, and in Health.
"What are you doing here, Kaiba?" Yami yelped, forgetting to be quiet. He nervously checked for guards again, in a remarkably squirrel-like manoeuvre, but they were no where in sight. He composed himself, lowering his voice. "Shit, I haven't seen you in years! How'd you end up in here?"
There was no response. Kaiba's shivering was growing ever more violent, his lips trembling, arms drawn tight around himself. Yami placed a tentative hand upon the brunette's forehead, and swore. His skin was burning to the touch. "Kaiba," he whispered, more to himself than the other. "What've you done to yourself?"
He lifted him - albeit rather difficultly - onto the cot, and covered him in the thin blanket. He deftly undid his own shirt, draping it over the other man's chest. But two thin fabrics were no way enough to keep Kaiba warm. Yami shifted his weight from leg to leg, searching for more means of warmth.
"This would be a lot easier if I still had magic," he mumbled, looking down upon the sick man. He was still shivering, his skin as white as chalk. Yami was struck by just how much his features had matured, his eyelashes lacing high cheekbones, mouth slightly open. His rival had struck him as a beauty from the moment they met. A rather arrogant, difficult beauty, but a beauty nonetheless. Then again, now was definitely not the time.
"C-c-cold..." Seto stuttered, holding his blanket closer to his skin. Yami felt a twinge in his stomach. Maybe he should call the guard? Ask for another blanket? He snorted; may as well ask for the key to the cell, really. And a helicopter to find Yugi in. It just wasn't gonna happen. He looked around his miserably empty cell. There was one possibility...
Yami hesitated, then shrugged, climbing carefully onto the cot. The only other warm thing in the cell was himself. He wasn't exactly comfortable with becoming a human blanket, especially for Kaiba, but he had to do something. He wrapped his arms around Kaiba's torso, noticing the other's shivers calming ever so slightly.
"Y-Yugi?"
"No, I'm Yami - his other half." He'd gone through this many a time with Kaiba, though for one reason or another, he'd always end up wanting to claw the man's eyes out. He was usually stopped by the fact they were such pretty eyes. Ahem... "You're sick; go to sleep. I'm watching over you."
The other's harsh breathing slowed gradually as Kaiba drifted off to sleep, leaving Yami holding him rather rigidly. He grimaced, imagining the look on Jou's face if he could see him now. Which, of course, reminded him of his friends, and the times they shared together. He longed for those years, a time when the only thing you cared about was whether or not you lost a card game. True, there was some weird shit going on at the time, but Yami had never worried about his hikari and his friends as much as he did now.
Eventually, the Pharaoh was satisfied Kaiba could maintain a normal body temperature, and awkwardly wriggled out of the cot. He sat down, tracing designs in the dirt. Of course, once Kaiba was better, Yami would probably benefit from the company, even if some demented divine power had stuck him in a 10ft long cell with his greatest rival. But then again, there was only one bed, one 'toilet', and no extra room. No doubt it would be rather... squished. There too was the problem of food; Yami had a horrible suspicion that, since there was only supposed to be one prisoner per cell, they would not be getting extra rations...
As if to answer his thoughts, a bowl of plain rice was pushed through the bars. One single bowl of rice. Yami looked at it longingly, his stomach growling at him in protest. But he couldn't eat it while Kaiba was sick; he would need all the strength he could get. Besides, the CEO looked even thinner than Yami felt. Which, he thought, as his stomach twisted at him again, was really saying something. He put the rice away, vowing to wake Kaiba in a few hours, to feed him.
He paced his cell, at a loss for things to keep himself occupied, becoming slightly dizzy as he followed the circular path he usually trod, when in one of his moods. He occasionally stole a look at his inmate. Kaiba had a few scars here and there, and a bruise just below his temple. Yami knew him to be a force to be reckoned with, not only physically but mentally, and certainly strategically. And once spurred on by a purpose, Kaiba would be sure to stick it through to the end, whatever end that may be. It was surprising they'd managed to capture him at all.
Though, Yami flattered himself, the same could be said for him.
After what seemed like a month, but was probably no more than an hour, he was bored, and so decided Kaiba was hungry. He crept closer to his snoozing adversary. He prodded him once; twice; three times - but still he slept. He called his name, but to no avail. Making a mental note not to let Kaiba sleep in an emergency, he blew in his ear. Seto jumped.
"What the fuck?"
Yami grinned despite himself. "Supper time." He scooped some rice in a spoon, holding it to Kaiba's pouty mouth.
"I can do it," Kaiba snapped, glaring at him, seeming slightly more himself. Yami held his arms up in surrender. Seto took the spoon, his hand shaking. Metal clanged against the concrete floor, the Western cutlery falling to the floor. Kaiba swore colourfully, and rather loudly.
"Shut up! The guards will hear, you stubborn ass!" Yami warily checked behind him, before holding another spoonful to the brunette's lips. "You need food. Open up." He said it with the air of a kindergarten teacher, scolding an impatient child for the umpteenth time. Kaiba looked as though he would very much like to tell Yami to shove it up his arse, but thankfully allowed him to help. A few minutes of awkward silence preceeded, Yami growing more uncomfortable with every spoonful. 'Just as well there are only about five spoonfuls anyway,' he thought sarcastically.
The 'meal' finished, and Kaiba was obviously still in a foul mood. Yami left him to himself, putting the bowl back near the bars, where the guards would collect it on their next patrol.
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Kaiba asked abruptly, a bored tone lurking in his deep, melodic voice.
"I gave it to you." Yami felt this probably wasn't the best time to be snappy, but when the first person you've spoken to in months is both unbelievably annoying and disturbingly handsome, things don't always come out quite right...
Kaiba looked down, noticing the frayed top for the first time. "Oh. Do you want it back?"
"No."
Kaiba shrugged, and wriggled back under the blanket. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Thankyou, Yugi."
Yami made a face, poking his middle finger up at Kaiba's back. "It's Yami, you ungrateful bastard," he hissed under his breath.
