Notes: I never said Dartz was still in charge of Doom. That's the whole point: he isn't, and some other people who believed in his ideals started it up again. And I picked the last name for Raphael myself. You can borrow it if you credit me.

Chapter Four

Raphael sighed, surveying Alister's room several minutes later. He and the others had just spent time righting the furniture and cleaning up shards of broken green crystal. Indeed, their strange intruder had taken all of the stones that they had collected. He had even pried Valon's fist open to get the ones he had taken (he had reclaimed his knife as well). Raphael would have been relieved to have the stones gone, if it was not that Doom Reborn most certainly would use the extra gems to further their wicked schemes. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Feeling a light weight against his legs, he looked down to see Liu rubbing repeatedly, her eyes half-closed in contentment as she purred loudly. Raphael blinked in surprise as he reached down to pick her up. "Didn't I leave you in my room?" he muttered, certain that he had closed the door before he had run after the burglar. But he supposed that he might not have, since his window had been forced open and Liu might have gone out through it had he shut the door.

"Maybe she learned a new trick," Valon suggested idly, placing his hands in his pockets, "or maybe that guy left through your window again and he didn't get your door shut tight, so the cat got it and then Alister's door open." He did not intend to spend too much time pondering over this mystery. He was more worried about Alister, who had started feeling dizzy again (though he had not said so, it had been obvious) and then had locked himself in the bathroom. Valon did not know about the wound, so he wondered if the blast had done something to the redhead.

Raphael grunted, stroking Liu thoughtfully.

"Alister's been in there for a while," Valon said now. "You think he's okay, Raph? Maybe he keeled over." The brunette frowned. "He was actin' awfully funny, y'know?" And he knew Alister would not admit to feeling ill. That was just the way the older man was. Valon was never sure whether Alister simply was too independent to let people know when he was not well or if he was attempting to keep the others from worrying—or both.

Raphael shook his head. "He was cut," he admitted, "but I thought he'd managed to get away before the vein was reached." But with Alister it was hard to know, since indeed he hadn't said anything, though Raphael hoped that if something that serious had happened, the gray-eyed man would have broke down and informed them of it. He sighed, setting Liu down and deciding to check on their friend.

"Yeah?" Valon snapped. "Well, 'thought' is the keyword here, chum."

Raphael knew Valon was right.

Alister leaned forward, gripping the edges of the sink as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He felt so strange—not weak, exactly, but as if something strong was trying to get hold of his body. In addition, his vertigo was increasingly worse and he almost felt nauseous. His flesh was obviously pale and his hands felt cold and clammy as he tried to keep hold of the sink. If it was not for the feeling of something trying to take over—and the fact of knowing what had happened when the intruder and he had fought—he would think that he was merely coming down with the flu. As it was, he doubted highly that it was so.

What's wrong with me? he mentally screamed, watching a bead of perspiration trickle down his face.

He raised his right arm, studying the wound again. The blood's flow had slowed now, but with each drop that fell he could see particles of green mixed in. His eyes widened in alarm. I thought I'd gotten the piece of stone out! Suddenly he wondered how much was left in the wound. Was that what was causing this abrupt illness? He sank down onto the edge of the tub, staring blankly at the wound as he clutched his wrist with his uninjured hand. Ribbons of crimson dripped down through his fingers, but he barely paid attention, especially when he heard a voice in his head. It was his own voice, only darker and filled with a certain danger.

"You want to see justice down, don't you? And you want wars to stop. You're not doing all that you can to make sure that it happens. You have yet to tap into your full potential. I am that potential. I am the other side of your personality. Did you miss me?"

Alister's eyes widened and he reached up, clutching at his head. "Be quiet," he whispered in a shaking, low tone. "I don't need you anymore. You were supposed to be silenced along with the Orichalcos's influence. . . ." He trailed off, going another shade of pale as realization dawned on him. He had been cut by an Orichalcos stone. Now he was suffering the consequences. Why had it not occurred to him before that this might happen? It was logical. But then, there had not actually been any time for thinking since he had sustained the wound.

While he was struggling against his own inner dark side, Raphael was knocking on the door and calling to him—but Alister was too caught up in his fight to hear him. Not about to give up, and deeply concerned now, Raphael slammed himself against the door, hoping to force it open. After a couple of tries, he succeeded. Quickly he hastened in, looking about for Alister and soon finding him sitting on the tub's edge, his hands gripping at the sides of his head as he leaned forward, facing the floor.

Confused and worried, Raphael bent down in front of him and laid his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Alister!" he cried, feeling his friend trembling under his grasp. Upon not receiving an answer, he tried again, his voice becoming firm and rough in his concern. "Alister, look at me!" he demanded.

Slowly the redhead looked up, his gray eyes flickering with red. Raphael gasped, drawing back in shock and alarm at the all too familiar sight. "I've been poisoned by the Orichalcos," Alister choked out then. "It's trying to release the darkness in my heart." Of course he didn't ask for help, but that was his way. He was aloof and stubborn and liked to get things done himself when he could, but he naturally needed help with this. Raphael could see the flecks of green in the blood that was running in streams down his arm. He would have to attempt cleansing the injury and hope that he would be able to remove all traces of the stone. The rest would be up to Alister himself. In the end, he was the only one who could defeat his own dark side.

"Fight it!" Raphael ordered him gruffly as he washed his hands and then looked through the opened first aid kit on the counter. This was just getting worse all the time. He felt panic welling up within him, but he forced himself to keep it down. Panicking would not help Alister at all, nor would it help him be able to do what he needed to now.

"What's wrong?" Valon cried, abruptly appearing in the doorway. He had been closing Raphael's window when he had heard the other man breaking the bathroom door in. Figuring that Alister must be hurt, he had then came running over. Now his eyes widened as he watched the blonde man sterilizing a small knife and a pair of tweezers with disinfectant. "And what the heck are you fixin' to do?"

Raphael growled. He cared about Valon too, of course, but right now he was afraid that the impetuous boy's comments would distract him from what was going to be a very dangerous and delicate task. "Some of the rock's fragments are still in Alister's wound," he reported. "I have to get them out now before any more time elapses. But one wrong move could cause me to cut the vein, so I'd suggest that you stay quiet, or else go out of the room if you don't want to watch."

Alister looked up again before Valon could reply, his expression twisted into a wicked smirk. "What's wrong?" he asked nastily. "Are you afraid of how the Orichalcos will set me free?" Then immediately he grimaced, shuddering as he looked away from them. He had not wanted to say that! He shut his eyes tightly, berating himself for the breach of control and then resuming his struggle against the growing power of the evil, ancient energies.

Valon was gawking at him. "Holy moly," he exclaimed. Alister's smirk had frightened him. That was not the friend he knew and took pleasure in teasing. That smirking Alister had looked cruel and heartless, capable of doing anything. Valon clenched a fist, remembering the conversation that he and Alister had shared only several hours previous. Purposely he stepped into the room.

Raphael was already kneeling down, gently taking hold of Alister's wrist and carefully digging into the wound with the knife. Alister flinched but allowed this, clenching his left fist tightly. "As you can see," Raphael said without looking up, "this has to be done. He's only gonna get worse from here on out."

Valon nodded, biting his lip. "Maybe I could help hold him still," he volunteered, hating to see Alister in such agony.

Raphael wiped the discovered particles off on a cloth and then used the tweezers to remove from the wound a larger piece that he could see. "That would help," he agreed, feeling Alister tremble again as he fought against the Orichalcos. The younger man was trying hard to stay still, knowing that what Raphael was doing was risky, but the powers he was contending with were fierce. In addition, every now and then it would grab control of him long enough to cause him to say something or another that he would never dream of saying if he was his normal self. Both Valon and Raphael were quite disturbed.

Slowly the Australian lowered himself onto the tub's edge, by Alister's side, and laid his hands firmly on the redhead's shoulders. "Okay," he announced, "Raph's not done yet, so you've gotta stay put if you don't wanna get your vein sliced open. Then we'd havta take you to the hospital for sure and I don't think you'd be too happy 'bout that." He swallowed hard, but tried not to let it be too apparent that he was worried. That would not do, especially when the Orichalcos was trying to take control of Alister's sanity. Somehow he had to be strong and firm for his friend.

Alister tensed as soon as Valon touched him, but then slowly relaxed—or at least, he relaxed as much as he could. He was still clenching his left fist, almost at the point of drawing blood by now, and he was near completely in another world, ignoring Raphael and Valon entirely. What would he do if the Orichalcos claimed possession of him? If that happened, there was no telling what he might do to his friends. He could not let it happen. He never again wanted to be infused with that evil force.

Vaguely he was aware that he was speaking again, and that he did not like what he was saying. His eyes narrowed. It was taking place yet again! Would he not ever be able to get control of his speech? The more he could not regulate what he was saying, the more the Orichalcos would be able to take over not only his words, but also his actions.

"Come on, Alister, you don't talk like that," Valon was saying now, sounding annoyed as he unconsciously gripped tighter at his friend's shoulders. And truthfully, he was a bit annoyed. It disturbed him to see Alister acting so unlike himself. He could see that Raphael was disturbed as well, though he was trying to concentrate solely on extracting all remnants of the stone from the wound. Valon shuddered vaguely, fearful for their friend.

Raphael, in the meantime, suddenly found himself hitting something hard with his knife. There was no reaction from Alister, so the older man determined that it was not a bone. He leaned forward, trying to see what it was, and caught sight of a greenish glow. Maybe this is the final piece, he hoped, gently going at it with the tweezers. This process had been very long and agonizing for him. The wound itself was not very long nor very wide. He was continually afraid that he was going to cause some sort of damage to Alister's bones or his veins as he probed through the injury's perimeters. Under more normal circumstances, he might have determined that it would be better to take Alister to a doctor, but what had happened tonight was hardly normal. And Raphael was worried that the longer the stone's fragments stayed within Alister's wound, the more danger there would be of not only the Orichalcos affecting his mind but also of the jagged pieces causing internal damage. So he had decided that the best thing was exactly this, for him to take care of the wound instead of waiting for a doctor. When he had been on the island, he had once had to remove particles of a sharp rock from his leg after an accident, so he wasn't entirely unskilled with such things.

"Crikey!"

Abruptly Raphael snapped completely back into the present. He had been so intent on getting the piece of stone out that he found he had been doing it automatically. Now he found that he had it free, and that Valon's exclamation was likely due to the fact that it was approximately an inch long and half that in width. Raphael's eyes narrowed darkly as he studied it.

"Is that all of it?" Valon demanded, staring at it with goggle-eyed interest. He felt Alister start to sag against him and he struggled to keep a hold on the wounded young man.

"I hope so," Raphael answered grimly, studying the wound again and then looking up at Alister, whose eyes were half-open and quite glazed. "Alister?" he called firmly. He could not find any more traces of the rock, but he wanted to make sure. And he assumed that when all of it was gone, Alister would go back to normal.

"Are you with us, chum?" Valon also looked over at him, watching the redhead shudder and look as though he was about to black out. I hope he doesn't. . . .

Alister moaned low, blinking several times as their voices became more clear to him. The darkness was receding. He could feel it slowly but surely going back into the recesses of his heart. But it was not gone completely. Of course, it would always remain, but more than that, Alister could feel that the Orichalcos's power was remaining as well, even though the removal of the stone's fragments was making it go dormant for the time being. But he had the terrible feeling that this was not over. He had been infected by the Orichalcos, and no mere removal of the stone itself was going to make that go away. For now, though, it seemed that there would be a break from the torment.

He took a deep breath. "Yes," he responded finally, attempting to straighten up and to not lean on Valon. He could not see it, but his eyes had gone back to their pure gray, with no trace of the Orichalcos's influence.

Raphael relaxed, setting about gently wrapping Alister's wrist with a bandage after putting some ointment on the wound and wiping away the blood that was still on the younger man's arm and hand. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. He was relieved to see the natural color of Alister's eyes once again, as well as the redhead's usual impassive expression. The uncharacteristic smirk and his choices of words had unsettled Raphael extremely, though indeed he had tried to hide that fact as he had tended to the man's injury.

"For now," Alister told him slowly, watching him wrap the offending injury. He nodded vaguely as a sign of thanks. The dizziness had passed, as well as his other ill feelings, and for a moment he allowed himself to consider the possibility that maybe it truly was over. Surely the removal of the stone would eliminate the Orichalcos's effects, would it not? Still, Alister felt a shiver go up his spine. It's not gone. . . .

"Whaddya mean, 'For now'?" Valon cried indignantly. "You should be fine now, shouldn't you?" He let go of Alister once he was certain that the redhead would not topple to the floor the instant he no longer had someone to lean on, eyeing him suspiciously. "Or maybe you're just bein' pessimistic, like Raph." Raphael grunted at that remark.

Alister placed his left hand on the tub's edge and eased himself up. "Something like that," he responded. Maybe that's all it is—just pessimism. He would like to believe that. The last thing he wanted to think was that the Orichalcos could still get control over him. It was a frightening thought. What would happen to Raphael and Valon if he was consumed by the darkness? Would he be capable of harming them? Towards the end of his second duel with Seto Kaiba, he had gone truly insane, both from his original hatred and from the Orichalcos's manipulation of that hatred. But he hoped that nothing like that would happen again. Surely, he determined, it would not, since he had reached the point of insanity after years of being corrupted by his darkness and the Orichalcos. But that ancient power was unpredictable. It could bring about almost anything it chose. That worried Alister.

Raphael sighed, straightening up as well and being prepared to steady Alister if he suddenly lost his balance. "Let's get you back to bed," he directed. "Maybe you'll feel completely recovered by morning." He could sense Alister's concern, but he also knew that the gray-eyed man would not tell him anything at the moment. If he wanted to later, he probably would when Valon was not around. Often Alister confided in Raphael alone, causing Valon to become upset and irritated when he found out. But the truth was that Alister knew Valon would probably become overly emotional and upset if Alister told him some things, and so the redhead was not always certain that it was good to let him know such things. Raphael, on the other hand, was more calm and reasonable, so if Alister had a choice to talk to one or the other about a problem, he usually would choose Raphael.

"Maybe," Alister agreed cautiously, studying his reflection in the mirror and discovering that he had a bit of blood in his hair from when he had reached up with both hands. With a slight frown he turned the hot water on, dunked his head under the water for a moment, and then straightened up, shutting the tap off and grabbing a towel as he headed out of the bathroom. He was too weary to take a shower tonight, so that would have to do for now. He did not bother to take note of Valon's perplexed expression as he walked past the boy.

All three of the former Doom warriors overslept the next morning, exhausted from their experiences in the middle of the night. Still, Raphael found that he was the first to rise. Slowly he sat up in bed, the events from before coming back to him. The stones were gone, Alister had been poisoned by the Orichalcos, and the last thing Raphael had known was that Alister was apparently concerned that the power's influence had not gone away. He frowned, gazing down at the quilt and wondering what exactly he could do to help the younger man. At some point today, he decided, he would have to see if he could talk to Alister. That may or may not prove easy, he knew. It depended a good deal on Alister's mood.

Then there was the other problem, with Valon's parents. Raphael slumped back into the pillows with a groan when he recalled that as well. And they were supposed to be coming at some point today. He definitely was not looking forward to that.

Actually . . . was that a knock at the door that he was hearing now? The blonde man frowned, throwing back the quilt and climbing out of bed groggily. He reached for a robe and found that wearing it was out of the question due to Liu being happily curled up asleep upon it. With a sigh he left the room and headed downstairs, muttering all along that he was coming.

When he threw the door open a moment later, he had to step back and just blink in confusion. A middle-aged couple was standing on the porch—the woman wearing a sharp, formal business jacket and skirt that went well with her sandy-colored hair, and the man wearing a brown suit that almost exactly matched his brown hair and mustache. Both had piercing blue eyes and were looking at Raphael appraisingly. At last the woman spoke. Raphael was not happy to realize that he recognized her voice.

"Are you Mr. Raphael Laurent?"

Raphael growled inwardly. It's them. "Yeah," he responded, keeping one hand firmly on the door. The last thing he wanted was for them to attempt barging inside.

"We're the Paltridges," the man announced. "I'm Howard and this is Martha." He gestured to the woman. "We just got in town and we came to see our son."

Raphael's eyes narrowed. It was too early for this. "You should've called before you bothered coming out," he snapped. "Valon's still asleep." He looked from one to the other, not liking the shrewd looks in their eyes. They were definitely up to something.

"Still?" Martha raised a suspicious eyebrow. "He was asleep when I called you hours ago!" She took a step forward. "You must just be trying to keep us from seeing or talking to him!" she accused indignantly. "We mean him no harm."

Raphael resisted the urge to snort in derision. "Yeah, right," he growled, "just like you didn't mean him any harm when you sold him years ago!" He gripped the door's edge tighter, placing his other hand on the wall. "And as much as I might like to keep you away from him, I'm not telling a lie. He really is sleeping." He would mention that they had been up half the night, but he did not feel that it was their business.

"Well," Howard said, "we can wait until he wakes up." He also stepped forward, but Raphael delivered him a withering gaze.

"If you really cared about him, you should've shown this much interest years ago," the blonde man announced angrily. "What do you want him for now? Do you want to sell him again, to the highest bidder?" He knew that some of their enemies would greatly enjoy getting one of them into their clutches. Valon's parents could be mercenaries now, for all he'd know—greedy as always and anxious to get their son back just so that they could sell him once again. It revolted him.

"Now that's truly uncalled for!" Martha screamed in a shrill tone. "I told you before, Mr. Laurent, that we never did any such thing as selling him! He was taken from us, but he was so young that of course he might not remember things now the way they happened." She grabbed a handful of Raphael's shirt, which he found ridiculous and vexing, and leaned in close. "If you don't allow us to see Valon, we can get a court order forcing you to do so!"

Raphael glared at her. "Do your worst," he retorted. "Maybe it'll surprise you, but I'm not afraid of you or your court orders." He pried her fingers away from his clothing, thrusting her hand away from him.

Howard laid a hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, Martha, it won't do to get worked up," he told her in a falsely calm tone. Raphael could hear the thinly veiled tension in his tone. And he could also hear that neither of them had Australian accents of any kind. This made him rather suspicious, though he knew that sometimes people would go through a process to dull their accents. Criminals on the run might do just that.

"Maybe not, but I'm gettin' worked up!"

Raphael turned, seeing Valon coming over. The brunette's hair was a wild mess once again and he was blinking away sleep from his cerulean eyes. Obviously the commotion had awakened him when he had wanted to sleep longer. The boy gently pushed Raphael aside, coming to stand in front of him with crossed arms. "So, whaddya want?" His gaze went from the woman to the man and back again. They were older now, and not exactly as he had remembered them from his early childhood, but still Valon was certain that these people were his parents. And he was furious that they would even dare to show up after all this time.

Martha blinked at him. "Valon?" she cried, coming closer to him and reaching out to touch his cheek. "Do you remember me, dear Valon? Do you remember your mother?" She gazed at him. "You're so grownup now."

Valon slapped her hand away. "Cut the sweet talkin' garbage, Mum," he snapped, spitting the title out as if it tasted bad. This was not how he had wanted to start his day, especially after such a treacherous night, but the situation could not be helped now. "I mean, we both know that you and Dad didn't care about me. Look! I've still got the scars from when you were beating me . . . the day when you sent me away." His voice had lowered by the time he reached the end of his sentence. Swallowing hard and shaking a bit, he began to pull his shirt off.

Raphael gasped when he saw the cruel scars that crisscrossed over the boy's back. He had never imagined before that Valon had been concealing so much from him and Alister. The marks were vicious, some having been made by a harsh whip that had broken the skin and others almost looking as though they had been inflicted by some sort of sharp weapon. Raphael was outraged. Valon would have only been a defenseless child when that was done to him! Right there and then he would have been happy to give Howard a rough punch in the face. The only thing that restrained him was that he knew it would not help the situation any.

Both Howard and Martha were startled at first when Valon displayed the evidence of their cruelties, but then their eyes narrowed and their expressions became dark. "We didn't do that to you," Howard said indignantly. "Either you're recalling it all wrong or else you're purposely lying, but I don't know why you'd want to do that."

Martha bit her lip, reaching out to touch one of the mean welts. Valon tensed as soon as her fingers were upon his flesh and then he immediately whirled around to face her again. "Don't touch me!" he yelled, his eyes flaming with betrayal and anger. "I hate you. I hate the both of you! You left me alone years ago, so why are you both poppin' up again? Can't you leave well enough alone! I was just happy with my life and then I havta deal with you two waltzin' back into it! Well, I'm sick of it. I don't want anything to do with either of you, so you can just go back into whatever pit you crawled out of and leave me alone!" With that he pushed past Raphael again and slammed the door shut before the couple could attempt to come in. Trembling, he started to pull his shirt on again.

Raphael watched him, not blaming him in the least for his actions. Valon had a perfect right to be furious. His parents had been wicked and heartless to treat their child in such a way, and he doubted that they were any different now. "Valon . . ." he began, watching the unnerved teenager heading for the stairs again.

"What?" the Australian choked out.

"I'm sorry," Raphael said quietly, feeling helpless.

Valon laughed bitterly. "Yeah," he agreed, "me too." His shoulders slumped as he remembered how frightened he had been so many years ago, while he was being beaten and then afterwards. He had been bleeding profusely from his injuries, but still his parents had forced him to stand up and walk into the building by himself. When he had slipped and fallen, his father had kicked him before grabbing him up by the arms and hauling him inside. No matter how Valon had cried and pleaded for his father not to hurt him, it had continued to happen. And his mother had eventually joined in as well. They had left him laying in pain on the floor of the rundown office while they had collected their money and then left.

In the present, Valon gripped the banister tightly, staring down at the floor. "Me too," he said again in a halting voice.

Raphael came over to him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Valon tensed at first, but then relaxed and let him.