"Mokuba!"
Mokuba opened his eyes, and his brother was there. Standing over him in the little room where he was imprisoned, staring down at him with his arms crossed, tall and proud, his white coat almost glowing under the glare of the bare light bulb overhead.
"Nii-sama!" Mokuba cried. "You came!" His voice was hoarse, mouth dry, but he felt tears of relief prickling in his eyes. He forced them back, swallowed hard. "I, I knew you would come, but..." He pushed to his feet, back against the wall to help balance with his bound ankles.
His brother made no move to assist, watching with his arms still crossed. "Mokuba," he said, "what did you tell them?"
"Of course I didn't tell them anything, Nii-sama," Mokuba said. "I wouldn't!" His brother's face was strange, watching him. Maybe it was just the harshness of the light, that made his eyes so hard. "They wanted me to sabotage Kaiba Corporation," Mokuba told his brother, "I'd never do that."
Still his brother said nothing. "Come on, Nii-sama," Mokuba said, "you know I wouldn't..."
Finally his brother nodded. "That's all I needed to know," he said, and turned away, his coat flaring around him in a wave of white.
"Nii-sama!" Mokuba tried to follow, but tripped instead over his tied feet, fell to the cement floor. "Wait a second, please." He worked at the binds around his ankles, but they were as tight as before. "I'm sorry, Nii-sama," he said, struggling to get up anyway, "just let me--"
"I don't have time for this," his brother said, looking back over his shoulder. "You're slowing me down."
"Sorry, I've almost got it, really." Mokuba bent down, tugged hard at the knots again. The cord dug into his flesh through his jeans cuffs, but didn't loosen.
"You've already taken long enough," said his brother, and his voice was as cold and hard as his eyes.
"Nii-sama, please--"
"Stop whining. It's annoying." His brother stared down at him, his expression still that same strange, flat look. "I had to waste all this time finding you. And even now, you're still helpless. Useless."
Mokuba flinched, even with the paralyzing chill running through his veins, freezing him, like ice in his blood. "I'm sorry...I..."
"Stupid of me," his brother said, "to come all this way just for you. I shouldn't have bothered." Again he turned away, but not before Mokuba finally recognized the look in his eyes. It had been so long since he had seen that empty mask on his brother's face; he had thought he would never see it again. Not after Death-T and all that followed.
"Nii-sama!" Mokuba cried, and reached to grab the trailing tail of his brother's coat.
His brother's backhand caught him hard across the cheek, knocked him to the floor. "Don't pull at me. I don't need your deadweight slowing me down." Ice blue eyes studied him with remote, unsympathetic indifference. "These past few days I've realized how much faster I can walk when you're not dogging my heels. I only looked for you because I knew you'd give in to the Ghouls sooner or later, so I had to find you before you sold out KaibaCorp."
"But I didn't," Mokuba tried to protest, fighting to speak though his throat felt like it was closing up, suffocating him, "I wouldn't do that, I swear, I'd never--"
"I'm to put my trust in someone like you?" his brother snorted. "A loser too weak even to save himself from a few pathetic petty crooks?"
"But, Nii-sama--"
"Stop calling me that," his brother said. "Stop saying it like it's worth anything. 'Big brother'--it doesn't mean anything to me. I've told you before, only a loser would believe in brotherly love."
"Nii-sama," and Mokuba couldn't tell if he screamed or whispered it, but he didn't know what else to say. He had never thought he would be told that again; his brother wasn't like that anymore. Not since his brother had come back to him, had pieced back together his heart to wake from the darkness. The person at Death-T who had screamed that there was no such thing as brotherly love hadn't really been his brother. Just a broken shadow of him.
But his brother had always done so much for him, and maybe this had been too much. How wearisome must it be to have to take care of a little brother like him, to always be having to do for him what he was too weak to do for himself. "Nii-sama, I'm sorry..."
"I'm not your brother." The unfeeling contempt in his brother's face was far worse than his anger would have been, as his hand came up again. His back to the wall, Mokuba didn't flinch from it, just shut his eyes.
"Open your eyes," his brother commanded, his voice weird. "Open your eyes, and drink this."
Another blow stung his cheek, and then rough fingers clamped around his chin, tilted up his head. Liquid was poured into his dry mouth, dribbles of cold water sliding down his throat, choking him even as he convulsively swallowed. "Wake up, kid." It didn't sound like his brother at all anymore, not even his brother as he had been before, and Mokuba tried to twist away.
But then he heard the roar, recognized it instantly. The dragon's scream was unmistakable.
Mokuba jerked up, opening his eyes. The first thing he saw was, not his brother, but the scraggly, pasty face of the skinny Ghoul, holding a plastic water bottle to his lips. As he coughed the man pulled the bottle away, screwed the cap back on. "Easy, now. Feeling better?" he asked.
Dream. It had all been just a dream. Though he hardly felt more awake now, with his vision hazy at the edges and his head spinning, from the man's blows, and the dehydration, probably.
The second thing Mokuba saw, when he raised his head again, was a shining blue eye, fixed on him over the Ghoul's shoulder.
He gasped, reflexively shied back, staring. The Ghoul frowned at him. "What're you looking at?" and he glanced back over his shoulder.
The dragon behind him unfurled white wings, snarling. It was smaller than usual, though barely able to fit in the room, its wings not halfway spread still spanning from wall to wall.
It had to be a Solid Vision hologram. But the Ghoul didn't twitch, even when a wicked horned jaw scraped past his neck. Not merely ignoring it; like he didn't see the monster at all.
Besides, even if his associates were dueling outside the room for some reason, they couldn't possibly have a...
Hallucinations were one symptom of advanced dehydration, weren't they? Mokuba licked his cracked lips, asked, "Can I have more water?"
"Of course," the Ghoul said, and then smiled, patient and cruel. "You know what we want. Tell me a code, and I'll give you all you want," and he held up the plastic bottle, the water sloshing temptingly inside. "I'm sorry we had to do this, but you should understand now how serious we are."
"I understand," Mokuba said. His mouth was dry from more than thirst. The Blue Eyes was gazing at him, horned head cocked, listening. "But I..." He blinked his eyes hard, but the dragon remained. He had to be imagining it, and yet it looked totally real. More concrete than anything else in the room, its scales shimmering in the artificial light.
He wondered how badly off he must be, to be seeing things like this. But he couldn't submit to the Ghouls, not with what was at stake. When his brother came, Mokuba had to be able to tell him honestly that he hadn't given in.
Survival was the priority. But how weak was he, if he couldn't survive this? His brother had endured worse. And the dragon was watching. Would see, would know, if he betrayed his brother, the dragon's master.
I wouldn't, he wanted to tell it, desperately. Never.
"There's nothing there, stop staring like that!" the Ghoul yelled at him. "Don't play games with me, boy!" He slapped him again.
The dragon growled and advanced, pacing around the oblivious Ghoul to come between the man and Mokuba, wings raised to shield. White scales brushed his arm, his face, and Mokuba forgot the pain of his cheek--he felt that touch, feather-light but warm. Nothing like the vague undefined static of a Solid Vision projection. The sapphire eyes set in that fierce domed skull stared into his, and Mokuba knew this was no hologram. Even his brother's genius programming couldn't display that level of detail, the depths in that piercing draconic gaze.
And just like that, he wasn't afraid anymore. If he were losing his mind and only imagining this--it was better than the lonely hours in this room before, infinitely better than the nightmare. And if it wasn't just a hallucination, somehow--there was no threat to him in that shining blue, the exact same shade as his brother's.
The Ghoul was talking, but he hardly could pay attention, even when the man took him by the shoulders and shook him. "You want water? Give me just one code."
The Blue Eyes rumbled, a growl gentle enough to be a purr. The dragon understood, Mokuba realized; the dragon knew he never would give in. Understanding in that low vibration, and more. There was regret in the careful way it nudged his cheek again, leathery scales warm against his skin. Apology. Almost as if he could hear words in the monter's bass rumble, telling him, Sorry, we're sorry, to not be here sooner. But hold fast, wait just a little longer, and he'll come for you, and there could be no question who he was.
Of course his brother was searching for him; he had never doubted that. But looking into the shining brilliance of those blue eyes, Mokuba somehow knew that this dragon, hallucination or not, was absolutely his brother's, that his brother had sent the dragon to him, to find him.
A monster as powerful as the Blue Eyes required a tribute to play. He wondered what his brother had sacrificed to summon the dragon.
He couldn't be weak now, not when his brother was so strong. He couldn't give up. If his brother was doing so much for him, then he had to be worthy of that effort, that strength. There had to be a way he could win here. Even if he were hurt enough that he was going crazy and seeing things.
"Are you going to cooperate, kid?" demanded the Ghoul.
Mokuba opened his mouth to deny it yet again, as the Blue Eyes hissed at the man, a threatening harsh sound like a giant snake's. If only the dragon were real and not just in his head, then it could attack the man and they could escape. He could climb onto its back, fly from this little room to his brother. Or it could roar so loudly that the cement walls would shake and crumble, and his brother would hear it, wherever he was--
And suddenly Mokuba knew what he had to do. The dragon might be only in his head, but there was yet a way to make it roar. Loud enough for his brother to hear.
He closed his mouth. Putting his hand to the wall behind him, he pushed up to his feet. Standing made him dizzier, but when he swayed the Blue Eyes coiled around him, scaled flanks supporting him. Maybe he was just imagining it, but it helped all the same, and he stroked the ridged neck in thanks.
Then he looked up to the Ghoul. Swallowed, scraping his dry throat, and let his nervousness show in his face, so the man could tell how hard his heart was pounding. "I'll cooperate," he said. "D-don't leave me alone here anymore."
"Glad to hear it, Kaiba-san," the man said, smiling an ugly smile. He put his hand on Mokuba's shoulder in a mockery of gentleness. The Blue Eyes hissed again, as he passed over the water bottle.
Mokuba's hands were shaking as he unscrewed the cap; he had to force himself not to gulp the water so fast he choked, drinking it all in one swallow, sputtering and coughing when it ran out. He hadn't known plain water could taste so good, sweeter than syrup. He felt better for it immediately, not so light-headed, as if he were more solid with the weight of water in his belly.
The Blue Eyes was still there when he lowered the bottle, long neck arched over him watchfully.
He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, told the man, "Thank you."
"As soon as you've helped us with what we need, we'll find something for you to eat, too."
The fake kindness in the Ghoul's smile made Mokuba sick to his stomach, but he smiled back, tremulous and scared, like a kid should be. Careful to keep any hint of victory from showing in his eyes. "There's a problem," he said. The unavoidable waver in his voice was a convenient touch. "I was telling the truth before, I don't know a lot of the codes for the cards. I did know them, but my brother, he doesn't trust anybody, he changes them all the time. But making your fake cards work--I think I could do that. Some of them, maybe. I can try--I'll try my best for you, I promise. Just-just don't leave me alone."
"You know how to make the duel disk system accept our copy cards?" the Ghoul demanded.
"Maybe," Mokuba said. "Maybe some of the cards. I'm not sure I can do it--but there's a few cards I know the parameters for well enough, I bet I could make them work. If you have the right fake cards, the ones I know. Do you--" he swallowed, "--do you have copies of any rare dragons? Like Red Eyes Black Dragon?"
He held his breath, staring into the dragon's azure orbs, not daring to look at the man. He couldn't ask about Blue Eyes, they wouldn't make fakes of a card that obvious, but the stats of Red Eyes should be close enough for his purposes.
Really, he should have thought of this days ago. Saved his brother so much trouble. It was obvious--though if it were too obvious, if the Ghoul was smart enough to realize what he planned...
"Yes, we have some of those," the Ghoul said, grinning. He opened the door and gestured for Mokuba to hobble through it, the white dragon prowling imperceptibly beside him. "Come with me, Kaiba-san. Let's see what you can do."
to be continued...
And I'm back! And the story's back! And Mokuba, and the Blue Eyes, too. Please forgive any undraconic displays of squishiness in this chapter, but it's been a long few days for all of them. And I can't very well say I'm writing hurt/comfort if poor Mokuba isn't getting comfort from someone. Or something. (One guess what X-parrot's favorite duel monster is. Hey, I've loved dragons since my junior-high Pern-reading days...)
