Ahoy hearties! I know I've had a hard time publishing every week recently so here's an extra long chapter for ye scalawags! A well-earned reward for yer patience.

Enjoy!

I didn't faint. I don't think so at least. But my head has yet to stop spinning. Opening my eyes is an impossible task at the moment. Little by little, sensation comes back to me and I feel the tension in my muscles as well as the abrasions all over my skin. I'm floating. Water is being filtered through my nose so I know I'm still under. I have to fight with my own exhaustion to keep myself from falling into a deep sleep. It hurts but I have to wake up.

I have to find Moki.

The sea is agitated. Natural currents clash with unnatural ones, created by the explosion of the Anubis. My head is mirroring that disturbance, refusing to settle down and a typhonic vertigo assaults me. How long have I been out?

It's quiet. So quiet. Even under water I should be able to hear the commotion from the battle. No doubt about it. It must have ended. Finally, I manage to force my eyes open. I'm floating halfway between the sea floor and the surface. Somehow my hand is still clutching Drainer though my other knife is nowhere to be seen.

Around me, are pieces of the wreckage — blown away with me. Wood floats, metal sinks. A shiver of horror cools my blood and shakes me to the core when I see a couple of bodies floating among them. Once again, the waters of my home are littered with death. Many other mercenaries still alive are clinging to floating debris, confused as to what had just happened to their vessel. But it doesn't distract me from the ones who didn't escape with their lives. My stomach burns and turns so I swim away from the eerie spectacle and towards the other ships.

I instantly feel the ache in my muscles. My side is particularly painful. The wound on my arm has reopened for good and is bleeding. Every move hurts. Despite that, I refuse to slow down or spare a glance at the wreckage all around.

I've done this. I've caused the death of those people. I had no choice and yet I feel like screaming. Why? I did it for Moki. For Seto. Didn't I? So why didn't I feel in the right? Why did I feel so… dirty? Or is the water around me getting thicker all of a sudden?

I break the surface when I reach the hull of the Millennium. I can hear noise now. Some shouting as well but no clashing of blades or gunshots. Is it truly over? If so, then who won? Was I too late and destroying the Anubis did nothing? My stomach twists even harder and I swallow back the content my stomach is trying to expel. I try to climb up the side like I did to get on the Anubis, but my arms give in quickly. It's apparent I can't get back up on my own.

Not finding it wise to shout without knowing what is happening, I to close my eyes and listen. I can't clearly hear what the voices shouting are saying but all I need to know is if they are familiar to me.

"Get off our turner, ye maggots ye! If ye try anythin' ye'll be sorry."

That's Carrot's voice! Then, we won? The wave of extreme relief that comes over me relaxes all my muscles at once, so much that I sink back under water for a bit. But I compose myself instantly. Now is not the time to fall asleep and I have to make sure Mokuba is alright. I try shouting but find my voice uncomfortably dry and cough. Curses, no one will hear me like this.

Wait… Joey! Of course! He'll hear me.

"Joey," I call out as loud as my irritated throat allows me. "Joey!"

No answer. I dive back in to try my luck on the other side of the ship. But when I emerge, the Horus comes in my line of sight. Even from down here, I can see the damage that's been done to the ship and I know it won't sail away. The masts have fallen and even some of the edges have been torn. That one is also surrounded by floating corpses. But those are mostly in pieces. I shiver again. This is another definition of carnage I'm seeing. Then something moves and a large shape leans over the edge. My eyes widen in amazement when the creature hides the sun from my eyes, revealing itself to be a gigantic wolf with golden fur, glistening in the sun.

'So this is a wolf-man's second form…'

My amazement doesn't last long. I notice the beast is breathing heavily. He's bleeding from multiple places, and various projectiles are sticking out of him, making him look like a bloody pin cushion. Yet he's still conscious and standing. Any normal person would be dead with that many arrows and spear imbedded in them. Unconsciously, I swim closer to the Horus.

"Joey!" I call out, waving my good hand. "Joey, over here!"

Immediately, the giant wolf lifts up his head and sees me. But without waiting for me to get any closer, he leans over the edge and jumps into the sea. Anguish grips my insides for a moment, when I fear he might have fainted. But he comes up quickly and swims towards me. I realize how big he is as he gets closer. Even the biggest workhorses I've seen pale in comparison.

"A-Are you alright?" I ask, slightly intimidated.

He answers not with words but with a light growl and pokes at my bleeding shoulder with his muzzle. He doesn't seem to be able to speak in this form.

"It's nothing," I reply before eyeing the many blades sticking out of him. "Should I remove them now? The salt in the water will clean your wounds…"

For a while, he glances back and forth between his back and me. His ears are drooping and his gentle eyes, glassy. Heavy breathing betrays his extreme exhaustion. I'm tired and I haven't fought half as hard as he has. And for a non-Shayee, swimming wasn't helping. I fear he might fall asleep. If he faints here, he'll drown.

"Never mind," I tell him. "Let's get you somewhere you can rest."

There's too much distance between us and the island for him. I look around, hoping to spot a debris large enough for him to rest but the back of my dress is suddenly yanked back. Joey tosses on his back, clearly meaning for me to hang there. I uncertainly wrap my arms around his large neck and he swims forward towards the hull of the Millennium.

"What now?" I ask once there.

Joey brings up his anterior paws out of the water to sink his claws into the wood of the ship, not unlike I've done with my knives earlier. With what feels like unbelievable effort, he hurriedly climbs the side like a spider on a wall until we make it back onto the main deck.

There, two things are happening. First, I see the cost of our victory. The deck is littered with broken weapons, bodies and blood stains. The Millennium crew is pushing said bodies of their dead foes into the sea and carrying there wounded towards the lower decks.

Second, the mercenaries that are left are being sent back to the Osiris, their only surviving ship, by the crew. Including a Bakura drenched in blood and who's hair has almost completely turned scarlet. The sight makes me nauseous and my heartbeat refuses to settle. I don't see Atem anywhere which doesn't serve to reassure me.

Of course, everyone has noticed our arrival. Carrot-top and a couple of others make their way to us, asking if we're alright but they feel so distant. I slip off Joey's back to relieve him but the moment my feet touch the ground, my legs give in and I fall. I bring a hand to my side when a sharp pain shoots through it, finally letting go of Drainer in the process. Mere moments after, the wolf-man crumbles by my side.

"Joey!"

He breathes even louder than before. Despite my own lack of strength, I try to pull one of the arrows out of him but all I manage to do is hurt him. Am I that weak? John and Tristan come to my aid and while they begin pulling the blades out of a whimpering Joey, Carrot pulls me aside to give them space.

"Wait," I tell them. "He'll bleed out if you pull them out recklessly!"

"Don't ye worry," says the young pirate. "Wolf-men heal real fast. Somethin' like this won't keep our first mate down for long. We got to take em out before he heals over them. Mr Wheeler's got a thicker skin than anybody."

He's trying to reassure me but I can see his hesitancy as he avoids my eyes. They've clearly never seen him this wounded before. This was a close call for all of us.

"How bout ye? Ye hurt anywhere besides yer arm?"

"My side really hurts," I confess.

After getting out of the water, just breathing makes it painful. Carrot's complexion suddenly turns almost as red as his hair as he bring a hand to my side.

"S-Sorry bout that," he says, pressing a shaking hand above my hip. Immediately I feel the pain again and groan. He takes his hand back just as fast. "Yet got a bullet in there."

A bullet? An image of the two mercenaries I scared with my terrible "witch performance" on the Anubis flashes before my eyes. Right. The second one took out a pistol before I ran off. He must have fired at me just before the powder ignited.

"Come on, I'll take ye to the infirmary," he says standing back up and offering me his hands. "Can ye stand?"

"Like I said; a real bloody cockroach." The familiar voice makes me jump before I can even grab Carrot's hands.

Bakura —holding his bloody broken cutlass— seems disturbingly calm. I don't feel the usual bloodlust in his aura or see hate in his eyes, thought the annoyance is still present. It's a strange paradox to see him this pacified and covered in blood. For a few silent seconds, he contemplates me as I stare back frozen. I'm confused by his sudden calmness. And frankly, even more worried than when I can clearly tell his objective.

Carrot-top looks back and forth between us, lost. But then, his eyes light up as he looks past the quartermaster.

"The cap'n's back!" he exclaims.

My heart swells up a little when I indeed see Atem crossing the plank between the two ships. Thank God, he's alright. He steps back onto the ship his cutlass in one hand…. and Marik's severed head in the other. Swallowing my spit takes more effort than it should. So that's how the enemy surrendered so quickly. Another shiver shakes me and I avert my eyes, choosing to focus on the captain instead. As he gets back on the Millennium, our eyes meet and his widen. Dropping the head, he begins making his way towards our little group.

"You proved you aren't completely useless." Bakura gets my attention back. "Safe to say, without you, we'd be in much deeper shit."

Is he… complementing me? Inconceivable. I don't know why, but something is very very off.

"Which is why," he goes on, looking straight into my eyes. "I want you to believe me when I say, this time, it isn't personal."

Out of nowhere, the albino kicks Carrot in the torso, pushing him away from me. With snake like agility, the quartermaster moves behind me, grabs a handful of my hair and yanks it back. I barely gasp, and the cold metal of his broken cutlass caresses my throat. My blood freezes in my veins as I realize my body is too tired to fight back. Just lifting my arms to try to make his grip on my hair less painful hurts.

"O-Oi, Mr Bakura…" stutters Carrot-top getting up. "What are ye—"

Joey growls and from the corner of my eye, I see him trying to stand but fall back instantly.

"Stay down, mutt," snaps the quartermaster. "Don't make this anymore difficult."

"Bakura!" Atem's approached us, his cutlass ready and a fire burning in his eyes. "I'll show you no mercy this time. Hurt her and I will end your life here and now."

"THEN SWEAR!"

A heavy silence falls on the deck and all eyes are now on the quartermaster. He may have shouted, but I sense a stability that wasn't there before. He's not gradually getting more irritated at the commands or reproach of his captain. No. He wants something specific. Even Atem seems on guard.

"What?" finally lets out the captain.

"Swear. Right here, right now. Swear there'll be no more delays. No more off course escapades, no more legend hunting."

"This is ridiculous—"

"IS IT?" I feel the blade beginning to bite in my throat and hold my breath. "Nine of us have already kicked the bucket, and over a dozen are wounded thanks to you. None of this would've happened if you'd just stuck to the mission, as planned!"

"Bakura stop," says Tristan attempting to get closer. "This isn't the tim—"

"You all know it to be true!" He's addressing the whole crew this time. "Hans, Reynolds, Wilbur… Their death here was pointless and you know it!"

I'm so very confused. This is the first time I hear genuine attachment to the crew from Bakura. The first time his anger is sane and justified. I can't help but wonder yet again; why did Atem bring me here? My eyes find the captain of the Millennium who everyone is also staring at. His impassive face doesn't look away from Bakura, taking in all the accusations as they are said.

Just what is going on inside this man's head?

"I don't know why or how, but she's doing something to your head," says Bakura. "She's a distraction. Explain it to me. How does she matter enough to make your conviction waver? Or was it always this shallow?"

Atem's brows come closer together, and his eyes are lit with anger again. I can feel it all the way here. What angers him though? The fact that I'm being threatened? The thought of me dying? Or the insult to his resolve? Maybe it's something else entirely.

"If you're not going to answer, fine," continues the quartermaster. "I couldn't care less. But until I have absolute faith that you won't go back on your word, I'll consider her the cause of it. If that's the case, she has no place here."

Realization seems to slowly sink in as the other pirates glance at one another and then at their captain again. There is truth in those words. If Atem hadn't brought us here, this battle wouldn't have happened. The unease Bakura has set is palpable. I know he won't hesitate to slit my throat if it serves their purpose. And I'm too weak to defend myself.

Atem's expression is unreadable. He lowers his head as another awkward silence falls.

When he looks up again, his face is still impassive but the fire in his eyes has settled. What has replaced it, is just as terrifying to me. A deep and grounded determination is there. Those are the eyes of a man on a mission. A hunter with a prey. Instead of replying, he pressed the blade of his sword on the palm of his free hand and slices it. He then extends a fist towards Bakura, and blood drips onto the deck.

I know of this eerie gesture. Old Tom spoke of it before. A blood oath. An unbreakable promise made between pirates.

"No more delays," Atem swears, loud and clear so everyone can hear. "In the name of our fallen brothers, there will be no rest until the baron and his company are burning."

Icy spears grow in my insides at the silent death threat. As soon as he says those words, Bakura lets go of my hair and instead grabs the back of my dress, forcing me to my feet. Next thing I know, I'm pushed forward and would've crashed face first onto the deck if Atem hadn't caught me in a nick of time.

But as soon as I have my balance back, I take a step back. I don't want him to touch me. Not after that oath he's made. An oath sworn to destroy my family. The sudden apprehension seems to have returned enough strength to me to be on my guard. But it doesn't stop my legs from shaking.

Thankfully he doesn't seem to notice, his eyes still fixated on Bakura. The latter doesn't spare me a second glance and sheaths his broken sword before closing the distance between him and us.

"Now that you finally have your head out of your ass, what do you want me to do?" he asks.

"Make sure all the powder has been confiscated from the Osiris before sending the maggot away," orders Atem, calmly but still throwing an irritated look at his quartermaster. "Then go to the infirmary. I don't need you getting an infection or dirtying my deck even more than it already is."

"Ha! Look who's talking. Before that, what do you want to do with her?"

At first, I think he's speaking of me but both turn their heads towards the Osiris. Surprise strikes me when I see Ishizu stepping onto the Millennium, her eyes lost in the distance as before. Xao is escorting her but she's as docile as a lamb and lets him drag her to the captain.

"What is she doing here?" I ask.

"Oh right, ye weren't there," says Carrot-top, bringing over Drainer to Atem. "The Ishtar were able to find us cause o' her. She's a witch who can see things. Least from what I understood."

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Or I'm too exhausted to be. If there were Shayee and wolf-men in the world, why wouldn't there be clairvoyants? Does Atem wish to add her to the collection?

Ishizu doesn't seem to care what happens to her. Nothing phases her, like she's already empty inside. And I know what that feels like. All the sailors on the deck stop and stare daggers at the woman who's brought death to their brothers in arm. It's a different type of hostility. One that makes me almost regret being threatened.

When Xao and her reach us, Atem points his sword at her throat. She doesn't bat an eyelash.

"I should kill you for the curse you've brought us, witch. But I have a question for you." He only receives a blink as a response. "Your brother told me of your visions. Every single one of them was on point. But the fool was certain of his victory. Why?"

"Does it matter?" she replies with a flat voice. "You won and he's dead."

"It does because I don't know your motive." The fuming captain presses the tip of his sword into her skin, until blood trickles but still, she doesn't move. "You either didn't see far enough and your brother assumed he would win or you knew of what would happen. Which is it?"

Again, she stays quiet, eying the man in front of her with her dead eyes. My heart aches just looking at her, like I'm absorbing her misery and the pain she feels. No, not misery. Hopelessness. I find myself swept by a wave of pity for this woman. That's when I notice it. She's covered from head to toe aside from her head. And her hands are bandaged.

"Do you really not care what becomes of you?" asks Atem.

No answer. I can feel the tension around rising. What the pirates of the Millennium see is indifference and scorn from their enemy. A insult to their fallen comrades. And their captain doesn't seem immune to that agitation. I fear for a moment that he might do something impulsive. But he ends up sheathing back his cutlass.

"Xao, lock her up. We'll deal with her later."

"Aye captain."

"Wait!"

All eyes turn to me. I didn't mean to shout but a strange intuition pushed me. I step closer to Ishizu who's expression doesn't change… until I reach for her hand. Her eyes suddenly widen but she doesn't try to take her hand back. I push up her sleeve and find her entire arm to be bandaged. I know someone else who covers his hands like that. I begin undoing the bandage.

First I uncover a palm with traces of burn and stab wounds. Then a wrist with even more cuts and…human bite marks?! I stop halfway the upper arm, certain that the rest of her arm is in the same state. My stomach nearly turns again. I attempt to digest this horrid discovery. She's covered from head to toe in this heat. Does that mean it's like that all over? From the murmurs around, I know I'm not the only one shocked by this discovery.

"Did your brother do this to you?" I ask her, unable to imagine it.

This time, she takes her hand back and hurriedly wraps it up again. The expression on her face doesn't shift but she's now actively avoiding eye-contact.

"I did see your victory," Ishizu says to no one in particular. "And my salvation. That's why I led him here. The consequences never mattered."

Atem doesn't give me the time to question what in the world she means, and tells Xao to take her away. While he gives orders to the rest of the men, I watch as the strange woman walks away.

That sort of pain, I can't imagine. I know the void left behind by losing loved ones. But being betrayed by them… that is something inconceivable in my mind. How much does someone have to suffer at the hands of their own brother to lead him to his death and their own? I'm sure she's not come here expecting to leave alive. Shudders of horror crawl on my skin at the thought. So much that my vision blurs for a moment and I almost tumble again. The brusk move makes my side hurt again.

Suddenly, a hand grab my face and find myself looking up at a frowning Atem. Why is he mad at me now? Oh right. I was supposed to stay put. But instead of being scolded, he only turns my head to inspect the scratches and bruises. Then he grabs my bleeding right arm.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he finally lets out after sighing.

"She got a bullet in the right flank," replies Carrot-top for me, handing the orichalcum knife back to its owner. "What can I do, cap'n?"

"Help Tristan and John take the bullets out of Joey while he's still in wolf-form. Hurry before he changes back."

"Aye aye, Sir!"

Joey is still on the ground but he seems to be fighting to stay awake. If he does turn back when he faints, then his body will shrink and the blades and bullets will do a lot more damage. The wolf-man growls and digs his claws into floor to try to stay still despite the pain.

"You're coming with me," he tells me and pulls me behind him.

He's not dragging me but his hand grips my wrist like a vice to the point that I can feel it shake. My arm stiffens at the contact but I let him lead me. I have neither the will nor the strength to fight him. To my surprise, instead of taking me to the lower decks and the infirmary —where I imagine most of the wounded are— he takes me up to his quarters and unceremoniously brings me inside.

"Sit," he orders letting go off me and heading straight for a shelf.

I take place on the couch, grateful to finally be able to sit down. The pain in my side and all over begins to be more and more noticeable. I put my hand to my side, to feel the round piece of lead in my flesh. Logically the entry point has to be… My hand find the small hole in the back of my dress. I was so focused on escaping the Anubis and being blown away that I didn't even realize I'd been shot. Now, with the growing pain I can't believe I didn't feel it.

"You are damn lucky to be alive," says Atem as he returns with a wooden box.

I don't reply but a uncomfortable tension takes over me. Despite my exhaustion, my body is completely on guard. I watch him carefully, inspecting each of his movements as he sets the box down next to me and takes his coat off. But then a grunt escapes him. Blood has leaked on his shirt at shoulder level. Looks like I'm not the only one hosting lead.

"Shouldn't we both go to the infirmary?" I ask, thinking of Mokuba.

Yes. Seeing Mokuba should help. As well as being around others. It should settle my apprehension.

"By all means," he replies, "if you don't have any issues stripping in front of my men."

He said that with so much crossness that it felt like an insult and when I fully understand his words, a furious blush takes over my face and confusion grows.

"Stripping?" I ask hoping I still had water in my ears.

"Love, I can't remove that bullet through your dress."

He needs access to my hip and back. It makes sense. It's logical. But dear Lord— The amount of shame rising in me is unfathomable. My cheeks heat up even more so much that for a moment, I fear my face might melt off. Can't I just keep the bullet instead? I lower my head, incapable of facing him. And feeling his eyes on me makes it so much worse. Oh God. Has the universe decided that today would be the most awful day of my existence?

My prayers are answered in the form of a coat being tossed at me.

"Just lower your dress to your waist and cover up with that," he says, pulling a chair closer and reaching to open the box.

I'm torn again by his sudden consideration. Just how much had I lowered my guard since meeting him? I thought I'd gotten around to understand this man. I had stopped thinking of him as a completely honor-less pirate. But now that he's made that oath in front of me, that bit of trust has shattered like glass. Because I know what he truly wants.

Yet on the other hand, I can't forget. I can't forget how he held me when I realized how alone I was. Or his comforting words, who have filled me with just enough hope to want to go on. Or how considerate of me he is, even in this moment. Or how easily I let my guard down when we speak of my people.

Gratitude and wariness. Comfort and apprehension. Trust and mistrust. All of these opposing emotions are tearing me apart and making me dizzy.

"I'll be as quick as I can—hng! Damn it!" He curses, gripping his own wrist.

His right hand flinches in pain and more blood leaks on the floor. Despite the torrent of emotions within, I can't seem to want to let him bleed.

"Not with that hand, you won't," I tell him putting the coat aside and scooting closer. "Let me help."

I open the box for him and expectedly find rolled up bandages, two small flasks —probably filled with alcohol— and other medical supplies and tools. I grab one of the bandage rolls but hesitate between the two flasks.

"The alcohol's in the leather covered one."

"What's in the other one?" I ask, hoping small talk will help me settle down.

"Joey's drool."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

"Wolf-man drool is one of the best scarring substances in the world," he explains. "It works wonders to stop large wounds from bleeding. Unfortunately, it's not nearly as good of an antiseptic as alcohol."

I am learning the strangest —and most repulsive— facts today. At least it's distracting me from my morbid thoughts. I take his hand and poor a little alcohol on it. It tenses slightly but he doesn't make a sound. Once the bleeding minimized, I begin bandaging it. We both stay silent. I don't believe he'll say anything until we're done tending to our wounds. The silence quickly becomes too heavy to bear so I decide to fill it again.

"Do I… want to know how you collected that?" I ask trying not to imagine the first mate spitting into a barrel until it's full.

To my surprise, Atem lets an amused half smile show for a fraction of second. "You really don't."

"Now, I'm really curious."

"Let's just say it has a lot to do with seasickness."

Serves me right for asking. I continue bandaging his hand meticulously and the awkward silence settles in again. Of course, the thoughts swarm my head once more. I try to focus on my task. I notice just how big his hands are compared to mine. There are scars on them too. I remember his torso and back, carrying the traces of so many wounds. Were they the reason for his desire for revenge? Those rough and calloused hands, hardened by years of fighting, carry such a comforting warmth. If I could be covered by this comfort…

Immediately, regret catches up to me for lowering my guard again. The wound I'm bandaging is the promise of death of my family. My hands freeze for a moment. My mind must still be jumbled from my earlier waltz with the sea. The tranquil warmth suddenly feels like fire and makes my hands tingle.

"What's the matter?" asks Atem, perplexed by my sudden frozen state.

I finally understand the source of my anguish. The desire to want to trust these hands… to trust him, is overwhelming. But I can't. I can't because —even after all of this— he's still the enemy of my family.

"It's nothing," I reply, quickly finishing the bandage to break away from the sweet poison that is the contact of our hands.

He's too perceptive not to have notices my agitation. Still, he says nothing, as if he knows exactly what's troubling me. Without adding a word, he proceeds to clean and bandage my own bleeding arm. He handles me like a piece of cracked porcelain.

I dare look at him while he's focused on my wound. This embodiment of mysteriousness reassures and unsettles me all at once. He could've harmed me so many times in so many ways. But no. He brought me to my home and given me answers I've wanted my entire life. My head spins again. I need to rest before my brain fries.

"Done," he says before turning around. "Face the other way and take off you dress."

My face flushes again, helping me reach the highest body temperature I ever had. It's not helping the growing headache.

"You turn around," I say back.

"You do know I'll see your back regardless, don't you?"

And this is the exact reason women should be aloud to learn medicine. I stare back at him until he sighs and faces the other way. At least, he isn't making uncomfortable intimations this time. I can be grateful for that. Still, I glance back after turning around to make sure he's true to his words.

I raise my shakings hands to the back of my neck to undo the lace holding my dress together. Just that movement hurts both my arm and my side. I slip off the fabric off my shoulders and quickly cover up my naked chest with the coat. I'm certain my face would put cherries to shame. Heaven if Seto saw me like this… Stripping in front of my captor and turning my back to him… I'd rather not imagine what he'd do.

"I-I-'m ready," I say moving my hair to the front so it won't bother him.

I hear him stand from his seat then stop. For a few moments, nothing happens. What is he doing? Just staring at me or trying to come up with something clever to say about my back to embarrass me even more?

Oh. My back. Just as I recall the existence of my scars, I feel his shadow loom over me. And a hand slips in between my shoulder blades, sending a shiver of surprise throughout the rest of me. The couch moves briefly as he sits behind me and for a while, his hand stays there. Then it slides to my side. I perk up holding the coat tightly against my chest while small electrical like tingles come up my stomach. Then it finds the bullet and I recoil letting a grunt escape me.

Please get this over with quickly.

"The bullet's travelled too far into you to just take it out via the original entry point," he says, and I hear the sound of a blade being unsheathed. "It'll be less easier to poke open your skin near your abdomen."

I dare throw a glance at him and see that he indeed has Drainer out.

"You're going to cut me open?"

"Seeing how the bullet isn't too deep into your flesh, it'll be quite quick. But yes."

With that, he stand and asks me to lie down on my side. Not the least bit reassured, I do as he asks. I don't have pleasant memories of the first time he put that knife in my flesh. And being in an even worse position to defend myself doesn't help. But I was never expecting this to be painless. I squeeze the coat even harder. Don't doctors give alcohol to their patients before operating on them? I think Moki told me that once.

"Do me a favor, love," he says as he kneels down to get a closer view of my hip. "Wiggle your left foot."

"W-Why?" I ask suspiciously.

"Just do it."

I do as I'm told, not any less confused. I'm already in a compromising situation, but I'd like to think he's taking it seriously.

"Now do the same with your right."

I play along]. "Is there a point to this?"

"There is. Now lean your head back as far as you can."

"Like this? AH!"

I'd barely executed the movement that a very sharp but quick sting shot through my hip making me jump more out of surprise than actual pain. I feel blood leak on my stomach. He's already done cutting me?

"Bite the coat," Atem then orders. "Taking it out won't be as quick and I need you as still as possible."

I don't hesitate and do as he says, while apprehending the incoming pain. Will it be as bad as the last time? My shoulders tense at the prospect and I shut my eyes. Kindly, he warns me just before I feel the bite of the orichalcum blade. All my muscles respond by tensing and I bite into the collar of the coat.

Don't move, don't move, don't move!

The worst is feeling Drainer find and pull the piece of lead out. I can't bite back a scream when he does. Once the invasive metals out of my flesh, all my muscles relax and I breathe heavily, as a few sweat drops drip down my face. A hand buries itself in my hair and gently massages my skull for a bit.

"Good girl," complements Atem before standing back up. "Sit up."

I obey, still waiting for the pain to fade. It wasn't as painful as the time with my arm. Maybe because there was no threat of fire or screams in my head this time. With a cloth and alcohol, Atem disinfects my wounds before bandaging my waist. But when he's done, he doesn't tell me to get dressed. I don't even hear him move behind me.

"Atem?" I ask glancing back. "Can I get dress—"

I stop speaking when I feel his hand on my back again. His fingers move, tracing the contours of the burn marks. I know because I know them by heart. Every new brush, every caress makes my skin tingles. It's such a strange sensation. Nothing like the burns from my memories. And not entirely soft. It stirs things in me, conjuring old memories. Sweet ones. Bitter ones. I shiver, very conscious of the most ugly part of me. He keeps at it for what feels like an eternity to me, as if silently contemplating something.

"The unburnt parts," he finally says,"They're like wings."

Yes. Yes they are. And there's a reason for that. The shapes evolved as I grew, and that's how they'd ended up. The original shape was a lot more defined.

"Do you remember it?" he asks. "The moment you got them?"

I bite my lips and look down, as bitterness pinches my heart.

"Every time I close my eyes," I say.

"What was it like?"

At any other time, I'd say this question is cruel. It forces me to remember then. But as if compelled by a greater force, I have to answer.

"As if the fire was eating me whole, like a monster. It couldn't move or breathe. But it wouldn't let me die."

The days after Seto had saved me were the most painful. It'd taken a whole six months before the burns stopped aching completely. But every day, I had Seto by my side, holding my hand and telling me to fight. The loneliness from the island begins to rise in me again and my eyes water. I take a deep breath, hoping to stop them.

Atem's hand moves up to my shoulder, then I feel a heavier pressure at my nape and thick hair tickling the back of my neck. I perk up, confused and getting honestly uncomfortable. Why is he leaning on me like that?

"I'm sorry."

Those words strike me like lightening. I forget that I'm half naked. I forget all about the discomfort. I forget his murderous oath. The man speaking to me now…is the same one that held me in his arms on the island. The one who comforted me. A frightening intuition crosses my mind. Somehow feeling as if this part of him will disappear, I ask without thinking.

"Why?" My voice —choked with emotion— comes out as an unsure whisper. "Why are you sorry? Why do all of this for me? What am I to you?"

He doesn't answer. He never will. I understand that now. He wanted to bury that part of him and never show it. And I'll never know why I am the exception. An unnamed frustration rises inside of me, accentuating my headache. Simultaneously, I can sense an immense sadness emitting from him and I hold my tears with difficulty.

Finally, he pulls away. I quickly get dressed, bitter that he'd once more retracted into his shell of mystery and chose to ignore me. By the time I turn back around, he's bear-chested and points Drainer towards his shoulder.

"Wait—" I say.

Too late. He sinks the blade into his shoulder and twists it, making a stream of blood flow out. He grits his teeth but in a few twist, the piece of lead falls onto the ground. All that without letting out so much as a grunt. While I stare my jaw on the floor, he grabs the flask containing the supposed drool and applies some to the wound. It almost immediately stops bleeding.

"You stay here and get some rest," he says putting his shirt back on. "Feel free to use the bed if you wish but don't leave this room until someone comes get you."

"What? But I have to see Mokuba…"

"The boy is busy patching up my men. You'd only get in the way and you're white as a sheet. Stay here and rest."

"But—"

"Love, I don't have time to waste," he says exasperated, looking at me straight in the eyes this time. "Don't make me strap you down."

I was right. The mask is back. We're back to threats and angry stares. I take a step back. He walks past me and heads for the door. Just before heading out he adds this.

"Get some rest. Tonight, none of us are sleeping."

Phew! Hope that was worth it, you guys.

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