Chapter Sixteen
Before we start, I have something to say, and I'd appreciate it if you'd all read it and think about it.
This chapter almost didn't get written. I almost gave up on this fic, because my inspiration was waning, and because I had a rather unpleasant run-in with a friend of mine about my writing. Not precisely about this story, (although I'm sure I'll get another comment about it because he's not a fan of Seto/Jou) but about my Kenshin/Sano story. To quote him precisely, "I have some constructive criticism."
I, of course, always happy for suggestions on how to improve my writing, replied with, "Yeah?"
And he said, in these words exactly. "It sucked ass. Don't do it again."
Dear, if you're reading this, you know who you are. I am not angry with you, I've moved past that. I'm hurt, certainly, because that was in no way constructive. I don't know if you did it because you thought it would be funny, but I wasn't laughing. I don't have thick skin concerning my art, and I'm trying to fix that, but such a remark from someone whose opinion I respected stings. I fault myself for having such low self-esteem that something like that would actually ruin what had, up until then, been a wonderful day.
I honestly didn't know what to say to him. I snapped back some sarcastic reply, but my mind had gone numb. Maybe I'm just being dramatic…but it hurt, you know? That someone didn't even have enough respect for me to think enough to come up with a suggestion rather than an insult. I'm not angry. Just kind of…sad. Hurt.
But Wednesday morning I read my reviews, and…you all are truly wonderful. So many encouraging comments, and especially RosalynAngel's half-page analysis of why Yutou is a good character (a complete bastard, but a good character) and The Summer Stars reviewing me while she's recovering from her convalescence in the hospital (!!), and Calico-Avengi's support, and setokaibawheeler's endless (and incredibly entertaining) sentences, and everyone else's comments and encouragements, and I realized how bloody stupid I was being to let one comment have so much power over me. He probably didn't think about it after it was out of his mouth, so why should I? Why give someone that much power over me?
I guess, in my own roundabout way, I'm trying to simply say thank you. Without you, absolutely none of this would be possible. I don't think reviewers get nearly as much credit as they should, because even a ten-word sentence just letting someone know you enjoyed their work can make all the difference. So thank you to everyone who's ever taken the time to read my pitiful contribution to this fandom, and to all my reviewers…I love you. I really do. You motivate me more than anything else in the world, and everything written here is because of you. I don't know if you can understand just how much it means to me to know that somewhere out there, my story is touching people so much that it brings them to tears.
The good news? Memories and Battle Scars will NOT be discontinued. I have a renewed faith in all of you and in myself. I have a reason to write, and I'm inspired for the first time in quite a while. Or maybe I'm just happy that I lost six pounds. That might be it too. (dances) Hundred and eleven pounds, baby!
Er…yeah, that's enough now. Enjoy, minna-san! Sorry, no review responses this time, 'cause DELETED THEM ALL. Bastard computer.
"What? Oh, my God. No. No, we haven't seen him in nearly a month. Is he going to be alright? Yes, of course. We'll be over right away." Yuugi hung up the phone slowly, as if in a daze, and turned towards his friends, violet eyes blank.
"Hikari? What's the matter?" Yami half-stood, as if to go to his lover, who had gone pale all of a sudden, but Yuugi ran to him instead, burying his face in the pharaoh's neck.
"It's Seto," he managed to gasp out. "He's in the hospital, Yami. They…they don't think he's going to make it."
"What?" Honda asked incredulously. "What happened to him?"
"I don't know," Yuugi said miserably. "They wouldn't tell me. Mokuba ordered them to call me, and they want us to come downtown as soon as we can. That's all they said."
"What're we waiting for?" Malik asked, jumping up off the couch. "C'mon, I'll drive."
They were halfway out the door when they noticed that Jonouchi wasn't following them. He was frozen in place, white as a sheet, eyes wide and staring at nothing. Honda snorted in irritation ("We so don't have time for this,") and grabbed Jonouchi by the arm, dragging him towards the door.
"You idiot, this is no time for you to be spacing out!" Honda growled as he pulled Jonouchi down the hallway. "Show a little compassion, your boyfriend's in the hospital."
"He's not my boyfriend." Jonouchi whispered. He dug his heels into the carpet, jerking his wrist out of Honda's grasp. "I'm not goin'."
They all stared at him. "Jou," Ryou said slowly, "Seto may not live. I think you should—"
"I said I'm not goin'," Jou snapped. "You go without me. I'm stayin' here."
Honda hissed and grabbed Jonouchi by the shoulders, shaking him for emphasis. "Okay, I'll say this once, so you better listen. He dumped you, get over it. You can't hide from him forever, and you need to think about something a little more productive than wallowing in self-pity! He's dying, Jonouchi Katsuya, and you can say whatever the hell you want to, he loves you. Whatever reason he had for breaking up with you in the first place it shouldn't matter, because he needs you and you have a responsibility to be there. You either come willingly or I'll knock you senseless and throw you in the trunk, but you're going to that hospital because Seto needs your help!"
"Calm down, Honda," Marik said, grinning at the brunette, who was panting like an angered rhino. "You're gonna give him whiplash."
Honda shoved Jonouchi away from him. "Good. Maybe that'll knock some sense into that empty head of his."
Jou lurched forward and swung a wild punch, catching an unsuspecting Honda on the side of the head. "What the hell do you know?" he yelled, clenching his fists in rage while tears streamed down his face. "I said I'm not goin', and I'm—not—fuckin'—goin'!"
Honda touched the red mark near his eye where Jou's punch had landed. "You—you hit me," he said dazedly. "You really hit me."
Jou had never in his life raised a hand against any of his friends, certainly not Honda. It was understandable that Honda was shocked by this sudden display of aggression; he just stood there, hand clasped over his face, staring at his best friend in complete and utter shock while Jou clenched and unclenched his fists, baring his teeth in a silent snarl.
"Damn straight, and I'll do it again! Don't tell me what to do, Honda!" Jou shook his head and staggered back, all the anger fading from his voice. "Don't tell me what to do…"
Honda stepped forwards and Jou shied away, obviously expecting the brunette to retaliate. Instead, Honda gathered Jou roughly into his arms, in an awkward sort of hug. "Look, man, I know you're going through hell right now, but Seto needs you."
Jou nodded, his arms sliding around his friend's shoulders, leaning into the embrace and closing his eyes. "I know he does. I'm sorry I hit you," he mumbled. "I don' know what's been wrong wit' me lately."
Honda pinched his waist teasingly, flashing the blonde a roguish grin. Neither of them could stay serious for long, it wasn't their nature. "You're not eating enough," he joked. "It's making you all bitchy."
"I'm no bitch," Jou threw back, punching Honda lightly on the shoulder.
Bakura rolled his eyes. "Look, touching as this male-bonding moment is, could we please get going?"
"Sure," Jou said. "Sure."
oooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo
"Jonouchi Katsuya?" An elderly, friendly-looking nurse glanced up from her clipboard and Jou stood quickly.
"Yeah, that's me."
"Please, come this way."
"Wait," Yami said. "We're friends of Kaiba too. We'd like to know what's going on."
"I'm sorry," the nurse said politely. "To protect privacy we're only allowed to discuss our patients' conditions with people who have been authorized by the family itself. In this case, Mokuba-san requested that Jonouchi-san be the only one allowed inside. After Kaiba-san wakes up, you'll be allowed in to see him, of course."
Jou shot his friends an apologetic glance. "Look, if you want me t' wait—"
Yuugi waved him away with an understanding smile. "Nah, Jou, it's fine. You deserve to be in there more than any of us do."
Jou flashed Yuugi a grin before disappearing down the hallway after the nurse. "Thanks, Yuug."
"Are you a relation of Kaiba-san?" the nurse asked him as they walked down a brightly-lit hallway, her heels clicking on the floor loudly.
"Nah, I'm his…friend. A very close friend. If you don' mind my askin'…what happened t' him?" He rushed ahead before the nurse could ask him just how close a friend, because he knew she'd be suspicious of a guy showing up at a hospital with an entire group of other men, most of them dressed like male escorts.
The nurse looked away, her gray eyes sad in her kind face. "I've never seen someone ripped up this badly and still alive. He's remarkably resilient."
"Yeah, he is." Jou smiled.
"His brother called us when he collapsed…apparently he wasn't breathing and Mokuba-san couldn't find a pulse. Fortunately, Mokuba-san isn't a medical professional; his brother had stopped breathing, but he did have a pulse. Mokuba-san was just too panicked to locate it properly. Kaiba-san's lost a lot of blood, and he appears to be severely malnourished. That's probably why he passed out." She paused in front of a door, hand on the knob. "Are you squeamish?" Jou shook his head, the pit in the bottom of his stomach growing. "Good."
That wasn't exactly comforting.
"Jonouchi!" Mokuba rushed to him gratefully and the blonde hugged the distraught younger man. "I'm so glad to see you!"
"Mokuba…what happened?"
Mokuba glanced sadly at his brother's sleeping form, wrapped in white blankets, pale and waiflike on the cold hospital bed. "Yutou did."
At the mention of Yutou's name, Jou's friendly, amicable face hardened into a snarl. "Yutou hurt him? How badly is he injured?" Seto's face didn't look all that bad; he had a black eye and a small cut across one cheek. Jou had a suspicion, however, that the blankets hid far, far more than he ever wanted to see.
In answer, Mokuba tugged down Seto's blanket. He was wearing pajama pants, and Jou was glad for that because he couldn't imagine how torn up Seto must have been 'down there' after such a violent assault. God, he didn't want to think about it, didn't want to envision Yutou doing…that to Seto.
He was going to kill Yutou. Throw him off a cliff, beat him senseless and then run him over with a fucking steamroller, because how could he do this to Seto? How could anyone want to hurt him so badly?
He was bruised everywhere, so much that the doctors obviously had decided that, for the sake of future movement, they couldn't bandage everything. Two wide bandages wound around his torso, one over his chest, the other over his lower stomach and around his hips. Jou's gaze was immediately drawn to the wrappings around his forearms and he pointed to them. "Tell me he didn'," he whispered.
"No," Mokuba said, shaking his head. "Seto wouldn't do that, no matter how bad it got. It looks like Yutou tied him up. His wrists are raw."
"Oh." Jou didn't know what else to say. "Um…"
"Look, I know you don't want to be here." Mokuba wound a lock of jet-black hair around one finger and Jou was immediately reminded of Otogi. Poor Mokuba, he looked so exhausted.
"Eh?"
"After what nii-sama said to you, I don't blame you. It's not my place to talk about this, but I think you should know…he cares about you. A lot." Mokuba sighed and massaged his temples, as if he had a headache. "Anyways, that's not why I told the nurse to bring you back here. Nii-sama needs a blood transfusion, or he's going to die."
"The hospital can't give him one?"
Mokuba pulled a face. "They could, but you never know what those donor have. I don't want Seto ending up with an STD or something."
"I don' think that happens anymore," Jou said. "Not much, anyways."
"Ah, but it does happen. And I'd rather not take that risk." Mokuba fiddled with his watch nervously, avoiding looking directly at Jou. "I did some research, and your blood type is compatible with his. Not to mention, your last test turned up clean, no STDs. Would you…?"
Jou blinked. "How the hell did you get into my medical records?"
"When you're a Kaiba, laws don't really apply all that much."
"Must be nice," Jou muttered. "Look, Mokuba, I'd love t' help, but I dunno…how's Seto gonna feel about this? I mean…it's over, we're over, I don't think he needs a reminder—"
"Are you going to give up on him so easily?" Mokuba asked quietly. "Shame on you, Jonouchi, I thought you loved him."
"I did, I mean…I do. But if he doesn't want me…" He spread his hands hopelessly. "What can I do? I'd just be a burden to him."
"Jonouchi…look, I probably shouldn't be talking about this with you, but…Seto went back to Yutou because of you."
Jou winced and looked away. "Yeah, I knew that. Thanks for bringin' it up, though."
"No, he went back because Yutou threatened to come after you. And me," he added as an afterthought. "We're the only people Seto would ever sacrifice anything for, and Yutou knows that."
"For…for us? For me?" Jou clutched the hem of his shirt, fiddling with the fabric, brow furrowed. "He went through all of this…to protect me?"
Mokuba nodded.
"It's my fault?"
Mokuba's eyes bored into Jou's golden ones, hard as flint. "Don't you dare, Jonouchi Katsuya. Don't you dare cheapen my brother's sacrifice. It's not your fault, it's not my fault, the only person we can blame is Yutou. Seto did this willingly. He did it for you. Don't make it less than it is, don't make it about you."
Jou's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
Mokuba sighed and hugged him awkwardly. "It's okay, Jou. We just…we need to be the strong ones now. Seto can't protect us any more."
Jou leaned his head on Mokuba's shoulder, sniffling. A tear dripped off the end of his nose and he wasn't sure exactly why he was crying, maybe it was because he hated seeing Seto hurt like this, or maybe because he was so relieved to hear that Seto hadn't left him because of one drunken night together that Jonouchi still regretted. Maybe, just maybe, Seto could still love him. Maybe he still had a chance.
"I'm going to kill Yutou, you know that."
Mokuba tightened his grip on his friend. "I'll help."
oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooo
He could hear voices.
That was probably a bad sign, hm? He was unconscious, he shouldn't be able to hear anything.
But he could, it sounded like someone singing, and Seto was sure that he was losing his mind. He was unconscious, maybe even dead, and he couldn't move but he could hear a soft, voice singing quietly, soothingly.
"I died in my dreams, what's that supposed to mean…"
Oh, and such happy voices, too. His whole body ached, throbbed, and he wondered dimly why he hurt so badly.
"Got lost in the fire…"
Was that English? Seto brain struggled to translate, but it seemed to be working more sluggishly than usual. His head was pounding…oh. Right. Yutou.
His little, scared alternate personality had actually stood up to him. Seto smiled inwardly. Good for him. Someone needed to. It was almost worth the beating…
"I died in my dreams reaching out for your hand…"
It really was a pretty voice. Rough, a sort of natural, untrained beauty that Seto had never heard before. It was a haunting, wistful tune, and Seto, who normally didn't have the time or patience for music, actually liked it. He just hoped he wasn't falling in love with a voice on the radio, because then he'd have to go buy the stupid CD, and he'd feel like such an idiot, because it seemed like it was singing to him. The words were simplistic and elegant and they struck a chord somewhere inside him, something music didn't normally do to him.
"My fatal desire…"
He opened his eyes with great difficulty, wincing when the harsh, florescent lights bored into his skull. He wanted to see, he wanted to know if someone was here.
"Seto? Oh, God, Seto, you're okay!" A hand clenched around his own and Seto had to bite back a scream—that hurt!
"That might be a bit of an overstatement."
"But you're alive, you're going to be alright, I was so worried…do you want to sit up?"
"Yeah, that'd be—wait, puppy?" He blinked up at the person holding him, supporting him so he could actually sit upright. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Jou held out his arm, revealing a small pad of cotton taped over the vein in the crook of his elbow. "Savin' your life. You should be glad t' see me."
"You shouldn't be here," Seto snapped, jerking weakly out of Jou's helpful grasp.
"Yeah, well, technically neitha should you," Jou said casually. "Without my blood, you woulda died. I think, afta that, you at least owe me some kinda explanation or somethin'."
"I could have gotten the blood from somewhere else."
"Yeah, I guess, except that Mokuba's paranoid about givin' you someone else's blood. Thinks you'll get an STD."
"Look, Jonouchi, thank you for helping me. I appreciate it. But you really, really shouldn't be here, you have to leave. Now."
"This about Yutou?" Seto's breath hitched and his eyes widened. Jou grinned. "Thought so. We got the hospital staff watchin' out for him, and there are more than a few unhappy bodyguards outside. You're safe here."
"But…you…did Mokuba…?"
"He set it up, not me. Now," he said, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm. "Start talkin'."
"No," Seto snapped. "No, I'm not letting you push me around! Not about this! If he…if he finds out you're here, he'll—"
"It's not like he could do anythin' else t' you," Jou said. "So calm down, you're gonna make yourself worse."
"To you, you idiot!" Seto exploded. "Don't treat me like a child, Jonouchi! I'm with him because I don't want him attacking you! I know very well what he'd do to me, and even if I am used to it, I'd rather avoid it if possible! So get the hell out of my room, because I will not have your blood on my hands!"
"So what, I'd just be a weight on your conscience?" Jou asked rudely.
"You moron!" Seto yelled. "This is not the time for your self-pity, it's time for you to get your ass away from me as fast as you can! I'm doing the best I can, but when you insist on forcing yourself into my life, it's fucking hard for me to keep him away from you!"
Jou grabbed him by the shoulder and pinned him back onto the mattress. "Calm down."
And then he kissed him.
Seto moaned, he couldn't help it. It had been too long since he'd tasted his puppy, and Jou's spiced-honey kisses were as intoxicating as he remembered. He wanted, no he needed, and it wasn't fair that someone could do this to him, make him feel like this, because it would be so much easier if he didn't care, if the way Jou's body pressed against his didn't make him ache to have Jou inside him again…He wrapped one arm around Jou's neck and the blonde thrust his tongue into Seto's mouth, making the cutest little noises in the back of his throat as they fought for dominance.
Jou won.
Before Seto could quite grasp what was happening, Jou was on top of him, knee worming between his legs, hands softly running the length of Seto's ribcage, teasing and stroking and sososo good.
"Puppy," Seto gasped as Jou nipped his way down the brunette's slim neck. "Puppy, please, we can't—ohhh," he groaned as Jou's hips ground against his, slow and sensual and torturous. "Puppy," he tried again, fisting his hands in Jou's hair as the blonde licked gently at the one dark nipple not covered by a bandage, biting the sensitive nub just enough that it hardened under his teeth. "Puppy…" Jou wasn't listening, he was too far gone, nuzzling at Seto's gauze-wrapped stomach. "Puppy! Stop! You're hurting me!"
And he was, the friction between them had caused the pleasant warmth in Seto's groin to become a throbbing, maddening pain from Yutou's rough treatment that morning. Jou pulled back immediately, cheeks red, hair tousled, lips pink from the pressure of Seto's mouth.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I got a little carried away. I was just tryin' t' make a point."
"And that would be?" Seto asked breathlessly, panting. Jou wasn't going to make this easy for him, was he?
"That you still care."
"And what if I—" Whatever Seto had been about to say was cut off as the door swung open and a young, pretty woman in a lab coat and glasses entered.
"Kaiba-san, I hear we've had some problems at home," she said kindly, eyes trained on her clipboard. "You mind if—oh. Oh, my."
Jou and Seto blushed scarlet. They were in a rather compromising position: Seto was lying back on his bed, legs spread and Jou was between them, straddling Seto's hips. Jou's hands were on Seto's shoulders, pinning him to the bed, and Seto still had his fingers buried in Jou's golden locks.
They both tried to explain at once, the result being that nothing made sense.
"Oh, no, we were—"
"He and I were just—"
"It's not what you think, I swear, we—"
"Jonouchi!" Mokuba scolded, edging past the doctor. "Look, I know you two don't get along very well, but trying to strangle him in a hospital bed? That's cold."
The doctor glanced from the younger Kaiba to the two on the bed, puzzled. "You were fighting?"
Jou let out a sigh of relief; Mokuba had just saved both their asses. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. We're friends an' all, but you know what they say…it takes good friends to have a good argument…or somethin'..."
"Oh, it's not my place to tell you not to fight, but as his doctor, I don't recommend anything of the sort until Kaiba-san's quite healed. Speaking of which, I need to change your bandages. They must be getting pretty nasty by now." She smiled gently. "Jonouchi-san, do you mind…?"
"Hunh? Oh, sure." Jou slid off the bed, cheeks still faintly pink. Seto, however, seemed to have recovered nicely. He fixed the doctor with a typical dispassionate stare.
"If you must."
"Trust me," she said. "I must." It was clear that she'd dealt with stubborn patients before; she handled Seto quite well.
He sat up and let her cut the bandages away before falling heavily back on his pillow, exhausted by the exertion of sitting upright. "Agh," he muttered. "You don't have painkillers or anything…?"
"I'll send for some as soon as I finish cleaning you up." She prodded tentatively at Seto's wounds as Jou stretched over her shoulder, trying to get a clear view. "Jonouchi-san?"
"Hunh?"
"You're in my light."
"Oh." He sank back. "Sorry."
"It's quite alright. I do need some help, however. Could you hold him while I clean him off? We need to get rid of some of this blood before his wounds get infected."
"Ah, sure," he said. He hoisted Seto up, grabbing him under the armpits to keep him steady. "Does that hurt?"
"Not as much as that does." The doctor was washing his chest, trying to be as gentle as she could but even so some of the wounds reopened, seeping blood onto her washcloth and staining the basin pink. Jou stared at the slashes across his chest. They almost looked like…
Oh, hell, they were! The bastard carved his name into Seto's chest! "S-seto," Jou said shakily. "Are those…?"
"You can read, can't you?" Seto snapped harshly. "What's it look like?"
There was another smaller character below his navel, and Jou squinted to get a good look at it, but Seto covered it self-consciously with his hand. "I don't want you to see that," he muttered, wincing as the doctor patted his chest dry. "It doesn't matter."
"If it doesn' matter, then why won' you let me see it?"
"Because I just won't! God, you can be irritating," Seto snapped as the doctor rewound his bandages. He lifted the hand on his stomach so she could rewrap him.
Jou sighed and settled him back on his pillows. "Sorry," he said dully. "I was jus' tryin' t' help." He pulled Seto's blanket up over him, tucking it around his body, and then turned to leave so the doctor could finish her examination. He paused, startled, when Seto grabbed his hand.
He glanced at Seto and the brunette was blushing slightly, obviously unused to acting like this. "It's okay. I'm sorry I yelled."
Jou blinked at him. It was so rare that Seto (in his right mind, at least) apologized for anything. He must really feel awful, Jou thought. " 'S okay," he said, brushing his fingers along the ridge of Seto's cheekbone. "I'll be back when she finishes takin' care of you, okay?"
Seto smiled, a wistful but genuine smile and covered Jou's fingers with his own. "Okay."
Mokuba had to resist the urge to squeal like a thirteen-year-old fangirl.