Chapter Twenty-Four

To the review I received from mandapandabug: Uh…I am an American. I didn't want to make it seem like I had anything against America, and actually, I had no part whatsoever in planning Bandit Keith's character, so you can't really blame that one on me. The reason I had the blonde boy give Yutou American dollars, was that I wanted to strike home how little Yutou thinks of himself, that he'll let someone rape him in exchange for twenty bucks. I figured the majority of my audience is either American or familiar with American money, and I don't think putting it in yen would have had quite the same effect. Sooo…yeah.

Ahahaha! I made you all like Yutou! And the reason I didn't do this as an original fic is that, well, it just wasn't really long enough, and people weren't getting what I'm trying to get across. And just what is that, you ask? (does Xelloss impression) Now that is a secret!

Seto was gone. Totally, unexplainably gone. Even his yami didn't know quite why, only that the elder Kaiba hadn't wanted to live anymore, and so his consciousness had faded.

At least that was all Jonouchi had managed to grasp. He'd nearly passed out again upon hearing that, and with good reason. He was slumped in a chair, head in his hands, trying as hard as he could not to cry because it wasn't right, it wasn't fair that someone could just be gone like that. And how cruel it was to leave Seth behind, a foreign spirit moving Seto's body in mannerisms that were completely alien to Jou. Jou couldn't help but resent Seth a little, just a little, for being sane while Seto was so fucked in the head that he couldn't handle living.

Which of course had nothing to do with the way he was glaring at Seth.

"Look," Seth said for at least the tenth time that day. "I said I was sorry. I'm a yami, I'm supposed to make my hikari happy. I had no idea he had a lover."

"It's really not his fault, Jou," Yami said in what Jou supposed was intended to be a comforting manner, but it just pissed him off even more. He growled and looked away. Yami hissed in frustration and, ignoring protests from his hikari, stalked over to Jou and grabbed a fistful of golden hair. "Oi," he said, tugging on the strands and jerking Jou's head up. "Did you hear me? It's not his fault. Now get off your ass and apologize to him."

"Sorry," Jou said sulkily, the very picture of a scolded child. Satisfied, Yami released his hold on Jou's hair, substituting a sort of affectionate petting. Jou sighed and leaned into the touch—the stress of the day was really beginning to wear at him

"Jou, you've been running all day. It's almost one in the morning. You get some sleep and then we'll see what we can do about getting Seto back."

oooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo

"Hey, babe. Are you feeling any better?" Marik pushed the bedroom door open, trying to balance a cup of hot tea at the same time. He was greeted with a lovely view of Malik's scarred back and a small whimper. Marik sighed and set the tea down on the bedside table. He sat on the edge of the bed and traced the wings carved over Malik's shoulder blades. "C'mon, Malik. Talk to me."

He hadn't really expected anything. Malik had been near-comatose the entire day, and Marik was fairly sure he hadn't slept. He'd refused to so much as look at Marik, and the closest to speech he'd come was the terrified screams he gave when Marik tried to clean his wounds. At least Marik had been able to get him mostly fixed up and into new clothes.

Still, it was achingly disappointing when his lover gave no indication that he'd even heard anything. He was moving at least, twisting handfuls of the sheets in a disturbingly methodical manner, as if there were an exact timing he had to follow. His violet eyes were intent on his own fingers.

"Malik," Marik sighed, flopping down onto the bed and coiling the thick blonde braid on the pillows where Malik was less likely to accidentally strangle himself with it. "Maaaaalik," Marik said again, kissing the back of his hikari's neck. "You can't stay in there forever." He wrapped an arm around Malik's slim waist and closed his eyes. "Come back, baby."

"I'm sorry," Malik whispered.

Marik sat bolt upright. "Malik?"

"I'm sorry I let him take me. I'm—God, Marik, I was so scared."

"I know," Marik said soothingly, stroking Malik's hair. "I know you were scared. It's okay."

"No it's not…Marik, with all this shit about Seto and Yutou going around…it's dragging up a lot of stuff I don't think I can deal with yet." Malik shivered, but he turned to face his yami, pleading violet eyes meeting sympathetic ones. "I mean, I know I don't have any right to compare myself to Seto, but—"

"Don't," Marik said, brushing a lock of hair out of Malik's face. "Don't do this 'Seto's-trauma-is-worse' thing. I was there, remember? Your father wasn't much better than Yutou."

"But…but he never…"

"Look, hikari," Marik said seriously. "Everyone has their own problems, and there's not a single person that can judge another. You don't know how it felt to be Seto, and he doesn't know how it felt to be you. You've been doing so good, hikari. I don't want this to put you back where you were."

Malik smiled tearily and took his yami's hand. "It won't."

"How can you know that?" Malik blinked at his yami; Marik's head was bowed, his eyes very deliberately avoiding Malik's own. "How can you be so sure you won't turn out like…like…"

"Seto?" Malik supplied. Marik flinched. "C'mon, tell me I've got a little more personality than that ice cube."

"I don't want you to hate me again," was all Marik said, and he very suddenly found himself with a lapful of rather amorous Malik.

"I could never," Malik said, nuzzling at his yami's throat, punctuating his words with occasional nibbles. "I love you, idiot. I got over all that a long time ago. I promise."

The phone, as it's always wont to do, interrupted this tender moment, and Marik was a little more violent with it than he normally would have been. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Whoa, good morning to you too, sunshine."

"What do you want, Pharaoh?"

"We need you and the Rod here. Now."

Click.

Marik stared at the receiver. "Um…koi, I think you'd better get dressed."

oooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooo

It was ridiculous how clichéd this looked. Yami, bare-chested and bare-footed, legs spread in a stance that looked more like that of a warrior than a pharaoh, with the Rod held horizontally in front of him, eyes closed and lips moving in a silent prayer. He seemed more likely to summon a spirit than to split Seth and Seto, but, well, that was what he was supposed to do.

It made sense, Jou thought, it really did. By removing Seth's consciousness from Seto's body, it should force Seto into control, solely based on the theory that a body couldn't function without a soul. Of course, Koto was a problem; he'd taken control of Seto before, when things got really bad, but Seth assured him that Koto was hidden even deeper than Seto was.

Jou wasn't sure how he felt about that. All three of them were more or less facets of Seto, Jou supposed. How could Jou love one and not the others? And what about the fact that every other yami and hikari he knew had wound up together? If they gave Seth his own body, would Jou be pushed out of the picture?

Jou leaned his chin on folded hands and closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about this, not now, but he was going to have to face it at some point. Could he really be so selfish as to refuse to allow this? Yami had given the decision over to him, an while Jou appreciated the gesture, he wasn't so sure he really wanted to decide. He could be giving up the one person he'd ever truly loved, and…well…he wasn't sure he could do that.

But wasn't this the same choice Seto had faced, back in New York? To either let Jou go or face the risk of Yutou hurting him? And in the end Seto had sacrificed everything he could for Jou, even allowing Yutou to sleep with him, just to keep Jou safe. He'd protected Jou, even through he' never been able to protect himself…When he looked at it like that, what right did he have to stop this? It would be best for Seto, there was no doubt at all about that, and so he had to go through with it. Even if Seto left him.

Even if Seto fell in love with someone else.

Yami met Jou's eyes silently, asking permission, and Jou nodded once. Yes, he had to do this. For Seth, and for Seto. Yami smiled. "Thank you," he said quietly, so that only Jou could hear. "You don't know what it means to me to have my cousin back."

Jou could only manage a weak half-grin, heart pounding in his throat as his fingers tore holes in the seat of his chair. Nervous? Him? Please.

"Bakura?" Yami said, glancing at the tomb robber. Bakura jumped, shot Seth a guilty glance and stepped forward, uncharacteristically meek. His head was bowed, ice-blue eyes trained on his shoes as he took his place next to Yami and untied the Ring from around his neck. He set it on the floor and fished in his pocket for the Eye, which he leaned against the Ring, so it wouldn't roll away. Yami nodded regally at Bakura and the tomb robber slunk back to his seat next to Ryou.

"Marik?" It was unnecessary, as the tomb keeper had begun crossing the room the moment Bakura was dismissed, but Yami had always been the type to stand on ceremony. The former tomb keeper rested a hand on the Rod briefly and then knelt on the floor to unwrap his bulky packages. First came the Scales, followed by the Key. Marik shrugged his shoulders at his friends' questioning looks.

"Shadi's dating Malik's sister," he said. "He loaned them to me."

Yami was last, setting down his puzzle and Isis's Tauk among the pile of Sennen Items. The Rod stayed in his hands, however, and at Yami's nod, Seth knelt before his Pharaoh.

It was time.

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooo

Warm and whispersoft and so, so calm…he loved it here. Here, where he could feel nothing but gently pulsing heat and hear nothing but the soft thump of his own heart, to which he timed each shallow breath. Here, curled up with his head on his knees and his arms wrapped around himself, nothing could touch him

Here, at least, he was safe.

Outside…there were bad things out there. War and drugs and sex and people only out for themselves, and he didn't want that life. People hurt each other too easily; it was better here, where he was the only one, and he could barely remember his own name.

No, he couldn't even remember that. It really should have bothered him, but nothing did anymore. Everything before now was gone, save for a few images of a laughing blonde and a little black-haired boy with huge gray eyes and he wondered who they were, if he'd ever known them or if maybe they were memories of the walls surrounding him. Maybe they'd come here too, come here and lived in peace and tranquility until they quietly drifted away to whatever came next.

He had this feeling that the memories were his, though. There was something he should have known about them, because he remembered the blonde touching him gently, remembered the little black-haired boy's laugh but it didn't really matter anymore. Even if he'd known them once, he didn't anymore.

Pain

Sharp, flaring pain in every cell of his body, he was thrashing and the walls around him were shaking with his trembles; what was going on?

Nothing could touch him here, nothing could—

PainpainpainPAIN, Oh God, it hurt, hurt like needles and glass and metal and blood and all those bad things, everything he'd wanted to forget was tearing into him at once and he screamed, long and loud and terrified, crying for help from someone, anyone, but he was hopelessly, desperately alone.

He gritted his teeth and curled up into himself, clutching his knees so tightly that every joint ached, so tightly that he couldn't feel his own fingers anymore, but what did it matter because he was dying, he had to be dying, because there wasn't anything in his little self-created world that could be this agonizing, this horrible. Nothing could hurt him anymore, nothing…he was crying, but the tears evaporated on his cheeks because every vein was flooded with liquid flame and he was burning alive.

"Seto…"

The voice lanced through the agony, straight into his mind and he paused, even though he could barely see straight. Someone was…was calling him? Was that his name? Yes, it was, he was Seto. He remembered that voice, a rich, silky tenor, remembered it from…Jou…Jonouchi? Yes, yes that was it…

"Seto, come back…"

No! No, he couldn't, he didn't want to! He didn't want to live anymore, he didn't want that world where people existed only to tear each other apart. He hated it, he hated them, he hated himself for being so weak and so helpless and he wouldn't go back! He wouldn't!

"Seto-baby…" a new voice now, a woman's voice, and all of a sudden Seto didn't hurt quite so much anymore. There were cool hands on his back, encircling him and hugging him to a lithe, warm, gentle body, soothing away the flames, soothing the pain and he could breathe again, see again—

"Seto-baby, you can't hide…" A face nuzzled the back of his neck affectionately and the arms tightened around him but he didn't panic, it didn't scare him. No, he liked it, he liked being held like this, almost as if he were a child again. "You have to keep living, baby. Don't do this to yourself."

Seto glanced down at the arms across his chest, pale and slim and perfect, with tiny hands that clutched at his skin. He touched the right hand, afraid that it might vanish and the pain would all come rushing back. The skin was so soft in comparison to his own rough hands—he'd never thought of them as such before—and it had to be a woman's skin. He tried to turn around, but the figure holding him had her head bowed, and all he could see was a gently-rippling wave of coal-black hair, just like…just like Mokuba's.

"M…mother?"

"Seto-baby…" She looked up at him with warm blue eyes, eyes the same colour as his own and skin that he knew from personal experience burned, but never tanned. She was more beautiful than he remembered, all pearl-white and smoky black with a sad, wistful smile that tugged at a memory of when he was small and used to curl up in her arms while she sang to him.

"Mom…"

"Oh, honey," she said, pulling him towards her so he could rest his head on her breast and stroking his hair. "Honey, don't do this. Don't hide away from everything."

"It hurts," he whispered, closing his eyes against inevitable tears. "It hurts, so badly…"

"I know, baby, I know."

"I…God, Mom, I wish you were still here."

"I am here, Seto. I'm always here. Always watching you, baby."

"I don't want to go back to Yutou. I can't handle being around him anymore, Mom. Everything's all broken, and I don't know what to do."

"You live, sweetheart. You hold your chin up high and never let anyone make you feel ashamed of yourself and you live." Her small fingers were under his jaw, tilting his head up until she could stare into her son's eyes. "Yutou's just like you, honey. He's only a man."

"I know," Seto said, wrapping his fingers around her slender wrist. "I know he's only a man, but…"

"But nothing. You can hate what he did to you, and you can spend the rest of your life running from that. But sweetheart, nothing you can do will change what happened. The only thing you can do now is go forward from here. Remember, baby, the future is always under your control, so don't dwell so much on the past."

Seto buried his face in his mother's chest. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. I always will." Ghost-lips brushed his cheek and Seto could feel the tears spilling down his face as he clung to his mother for dear life. "I love you, Seto. I love you and I want you to live. It's time to wake up now."

Seto nodded. "Bye, Mom."

"Goodbye, baby."

oooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo

(A/N: Gah, I just made myself tear up with that one. I wanna draw a picture of Seto and his mommy now. I think I will.)

oooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo

Something was wrong, and everyone was screaming all at once, everyone but Jou, who could only sit there and clutch at Seto's hand pitifully. Seto…yes, it was Seto, because the other body that had just erupted from this one was deeply tanned with auburn-chestnut hair that Jou didn't recognize. Seth was stirring, trying to grab for his hikari but he didn't seem to be able to see anything. His hands were laved with small cuts and bruises from flailing helplessly at the bedposts, and Bakura was holding him back while Jou sat there quietly and waited for Seto to breathe.

See, it had been ten minutes already, ten minutes since the explosion of light and that horrendous howl of agony, and Seto hadn't taken a breath. His heart wasn't beating (Jou knew because he had a hand on Seto's chest), but Jou wasn't worried. Seto was fine. He had to be fine. It had worked for Yami and Marik and Bakura and why wasn't his lover breathing? Tears trickled silently down his cheeks as he stroked Seto's palm with his thumb and waited. "Please breathe," Jou whispered, and he could faintly hear Yuugi crying, calling to him, telling him that Seto was dead, that he should let go, but it didn't quite register with Jou. "Come on, babe, just breathe for me."

"Jou, please," Yuugi sobbed, tugging on his friend's sleeve. "Please, he's dead. Let him go, he'll drag you down with him."

Jou turned mad, blank copper eyes on Yuugi and the hikari stumbled back, nauseated by the sad, dead smile on his best friend's face. "Jou," he keened, turning into Yami's embrace and burying his head in his lover's chest. "My God, Yami, there's nothing there. What happened to him?"

"He's with Seto," Yami whispered. "Shh, he's with Seto…"

Jou resumed his methodical stroking. "Breathe," he said again, but it was flat, empty, devoid of inflection. Jou's soul was gone, gone inside Seto's cold body, and Yuugi was going to be sick. He retched, turning away from Jou's vacant smile.

"My God…oh my God…"

"Hikari?" Seth asked pitifully, groping about for something, anything to hold onto because he couldn't see, couldn't so much as control his motor functions, and he wasn't entirely certain that his words were even coming out as recognizable Japanese. "Hikari, where are you? What's wrong?" No, there was no way anyone would be able to understand that, he didn't even understand that. He growled in frustration and tried to wiggle away from the firm grip on his shoulders with a mournful cry. "Hikariiiiii…"

"Ryou, c'mere and help me," Bakura said, trying to pin Seth down without hurting him. "He's lost it!" Ryou knelt in front of the confused yami, taking both his hands to stop him from injuring himself anymore.

Ryou stared him down, straight into unfocused blue eyes, although he knew the yami couldn't see him. "Your hikari's dead, Seth, you can't do anything anymore." Tears clouded Ryou's chocolate brown eyes as he watched the impact his words had had on the distraught Egyptian, watched Seth's face crumple as he slumped in Bakura's arms. "I'm so sorry, Seth," Ryou said, still holding his hands tightly. "I'm so, so sorry…"

"Nuuu," was all Seth managed to choke out. "Kari…kariiii!" He gave a long, animalistic howl.

And then there was a sudden gasp, a strain to draw oxygen into deflated lungs and Seto jerked up in his seat with a vehement "Fuck!"

"Kari!" Seth began struggling again and Bakura released him with a helpless sigh. Seth managed to stumble close enough to the bed to fall into Seto's lap and hug his hikari tightly before Jou launched himself at both of them. "Karikarikarikarikari…."

And before long, the entire room had piled itself onto Seto's bed, laughing and hugging and grateful to be alive. They didn't know how, didn't know why, but none of that mattered. They were all here, all breathing, and that was all they cared about. Together again, alive again, and maybe this time everything would be okay.

ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead, wasn't dead, wasn't dead. He screamed and swung his fist into the battered wall and it didn't hurt, he couldn't feel it. His whole body was numb, cold, and that probably wasn't a good thing, but he was still alive! He was alive when he didn't want to be, it wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, dropping to his knees in the middle of his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling blankly. "I'm so sorry, Shoji."

And he was, God was he sorry. He'd been sorry since the minute he saw the crushing disappointment on Shoji's face when he found out, sorry since the first time Daddy told him he was worthless, sorry since he day he was born. Why had he been born, if all he did was hurt those around him? What was the point of his existing anymore?

He'd as good as killed Seto, he'd raped him, and that was somehow so much worse. Because if he'd killed Seto, then the poor boy wouldn't have had to live with this the rest of his life. He would have been dead and gone, and he wouldn't be so fucked in the head that he didn't want to live anymore. No matter how he looked at it, it was all Yutou's fault.

So worthless, so pathetic…Yutou curled up into a ball in the middle of the floor and began, softly, to cry.

Gah! I'm sosososososososooooooo sorry this took so long! And it's pitifully short! bows I'm sorry, minna-sannnn! But, but, but….look! Seto's back!