Yu-Gi-Oh!
Reasons of Existence
By Lucky_Ladybug
Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! I wrote most of this years ago, but it never felt quite done. Finally I figured out how to flesh it out, so now it feels more complete. It takes place in between Lead Me Through the Fire and Close Your Eyes, Clear Your Heart in my post-series Pendulum Swings timeline, so quite a while back. I hesitated to even post it here after all this time, but now that it feels finished I'd feel sad not to share it. David Tanaka is Duke's canonically unnamed store manager from Duke's first episode. They are clearly close, and I have never tired of exploring that. Snakes Tolliver is from The Wild Wild West episode The Night of the Poisonous Posey. It makes sense in context. Coley Rodman is also from that series. Slim Marcus and Tony Earle are from Perry Mason episodes.
They always say you're supposed to face your problems.
That's all well and good if it's something you can fix. Alcoholism, substance abuse, a business not succeeding. . . . There are solutions for all of those things.
But what if it's something that can't be fixed?
Duke Devlin sat in Slim Marcus's casino, the picture of smoothness as he dealt poker at one of the tables. It wasn't something he had ever pictured himself doing, but then again, he hadn't pictured anything that had happened in the last several months. He had never thought his innocent gaming store would become a front for a drug smuggling operation, or that someone would try to kill him, or that his store manager and best friend, David Tanaka, would end up dying while trying to help him solve the case.
He had tried to fix his problems and had only made a bigger one.
He gripped the cards in his hands, nearly bending them as the pain of the memories washed over him again. The smugglers were gone, dead or in jail, but the price was too high. It never could have been worth David's life. And the grief and the guilt and the pain were things Duke could never fix. He could never bring David back. And being around things that reminded him of David only made it even worse. He'd had to leave Domino City to get away from it all. But he could never escape himself.
"It's your hand," an impatient voice cut into his thoughts.
Duke started back to the present. "Full house," he said with a calm smirk.
He won and his opponent folded, having cleaned out the rest of his money. Duke drew the winnings to him, still smirking.
That had been one of the most ordinary people he had encountered. But he had also run across many extraordinary and strange characters here in this little section of Los Angeles County called Gardena, where casino gambling was legal.
Of course, Slim himself was one of those strange characters. An ex-con looking for a fresh start, he was dark and brooding and sometimes had a penchant for drinks late in the night and talking with Duke if he decided to hang around.
When Duke wanted a more cheerful atmosphere, he sought out Tony Earle, another casino manager. Tony was friendly and welcoming, despite Duke working for Slim, and he often bemoaned not having been able to hire Duke first.
Duke played poker and other games of chance with people he knew, such as Bandit Keith Howard, and with complete strangers. Some he never saw again, but other times some of them came back, wanting another go at winning.
One of the repeat customers was among the most unusual of Slim's patrons. He went by the name of Snakes Tolliver, and from the snake-shaped hypertrophic scar on his left cheek, it was obvious why. Most times he appeared wearing clothing that was stylish and fresh and yet looked like it had originated in the days of the casino riverboats in the America of the Old West. He would sit across from Duke with his cards, smirking as he chomped on a cigar between his teeth. He looked quite young in spite of the cigar and the scar; Duke had the feeling that he was at least partially putting on airs, pretending to be tough and confident.
"You keep a lot of secrets, Snakes," Duke commented one evening as Snakes swept the winnings towards him. Snakes was a skilled gambler, perhaps as much or moreso than Duke, and he knew how to get a win away from the house.
"Everybody keeps some, Pal," Snakes drawled. He sounded like he hailed from the Deep South. Duke could easily imagine him as a Confederate soldier during the Civil War, if the time period was the 1860s and not the 2010s.
. . . Of course, there was his unique manner of apparel, which Duke had already thought was similar to clothing from that era. But since time travel had never been proven and Snakes seemed quite integrated in the present day, Duke scoffed at the concept whenever it came into his mind. He was just letting it wander down ridiculous paths.
Nevertheless, once the idea had taken hold, he found it was not easy to shake it. Mainly because, if time travel was real by any stretch of the imagination, maybe there was still hope for David. Maybe there was still a way for Duke to get him back and repair all the damage that had been done.
Duke crossed his arms on the table. Naturally he could not suddenly spring such a topic as time travel on Snakes. He would have to quietly build up to it. He had been trying to do that for several meetings, but had always been warded off. This time he was determined to arrive at it.
"Well," he said at last, "I mean, you've never said even simple things about yourself. Like where you're from."
Snakes shrugged. "My accent gives that away, doesn't it?"
"Somewhat." Duke leaned back, twirling a piece of hair around his finger. "You're in here a lot. I'm just curious about the people I play poker with night after night."
"Nothing much to tell." Snakes counted up the money, making sure it was all there.
"I bet there's a lot to tell," Duke countered. "Such as why you like to dress like it's 150 years ago."
Snakes paused, one hand suspended over the bills. "There's other people around here that do that," he said. "They go to those . . . what do you call 'em? Conventions?"
"Yeah, but they usually stop dressing like that when the convention's over," said Duke.
"I guess I just live in two different times," Snakes said. He got up, shoving the bills into his coat pocket and taking off his hat to collect the chips.
Duke sobered. He knew the feeling. Part of him was always back in the era when David was alive, no matter how he had tried to get over it. When he blamed himself for David's death, he could never fully put the past aside.
"Maybe a lot of us do," he said at last.
Something about his changed manner and his words made Snakes pause and look over at him. "What's the matter with you?" he asked.
"A lot," Duke said flatly. He leaned forward. "And maybe I'm wrong, but I started wondering if you might be able to help me with some of it."
Snakes looked both weirded out and apprehensive. "Just what could I help you with?" he frowned.
Duke stood and placed his hands on the table as he leaned forward some more. "If you've come here from the past, don't worry; I won't reveal your secret." He kept his voice low. "I just want to know how you did it so I can go to the past and save my friend from dying."
Instead of laughing it off, Snakes stared at him, the color draining from his face. "You . . . you really think I'm . . ."
"I know, it's crazy and ridiculous and I could get thrown in the nuthouse for saying it." Duke's fingers curled as he regarded Snakes in sheer heartbroken desperation. "But if you have the secret of time travel, I'll pay you for it."
Snakes' eyes glimmered. That offer had definitely reached him. "How much?" he queried, cautiously.
"More than you could probably imagine. But I'd have to have results first," Duke asserted. "I wouldn't just pay you on good faith, figuring you'd deliver. You could just run out on me with my money."
Snakes considered that and slowly started to smirk. "You're no fool." He dropped the last of the chips into his hat. "The problem is, Pal, I didn't come here in a machine or anything like that. It's a portal, and it only goes back to my time, as far as I know."
"Maybe it could be doctored to go to other times and places," Duke persisted.
"Maybe," Snakes said noncommittally. "But some scientists already tried that and didn't have any luck."
"I'll find a way," Duke vowed in determination. "Even if it takes me the rest of my life, I'll get my friend back."
"You know, I think you really mean that," Snakes mused. "Maybe we could work out some kind of deal."
Duke relaxed. "Good," he said. "That's what I want to hear."
xxxx
Snakes was both self-serving and a coward, but he hadn't been lying about the portal. Upon Duke's request, Snakes directed him to the thing on top of Mt. San Antonio just outside of Los Angeles. It was a bizarre phenomenon, basically a doorway suspended in the sky. When Duke stepped through, he found himself on the outskirts of an Old West town, in an Old West time. He came back, his eyes shining with enthusiasm and amazement over the experience.
"This is incredible!" he declared. "There has to be some way to get to other points in time, if not through this portal, then maybe by making another one. How did this one get here?"
Snakes stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "It had something to do with an electricity overload," he said. "It opened up a hole in the space-time continuum and this happened."
Duke fingered the portal. "What could cause an overload of this magnitude?" he breathed. "What could possibly . . ."
"Uh heh . . ." Snakes adjusted his hat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "You've heard of Dr. Frankenstein, I suppose."
Duke blinked and looked back. "Well, yeah. So?"
"So that's what caused the overload—someone acting like Dr. Frankenstein and ending up trying to do too much at once."
Duke stared at him. "You're serious."
Snakes nodded. "I'm serious." But suddenly he looked worried. "You're not going to get ideas about doing that yourself, are you?!"
Duke sighed. "I don't think so. I mean, with embalming and stuff like that, I . . . I really couldn't think about trying to revive a dead body that's been gone more than a few hours. I have to focus on making sure the death just doesn't happen in the first place."
". . . Do you really think you can?" Now Snakes looked hesitant. "I mean . . . there's those ideas that when things like that get tried, it never works and the person always dies anyway. I think it has to do with the idea that they have to die or you'd never get the idea to tinker with time in the first place."
"I don't care about those stupid rules," Duke said impatiently. "There has to be a way around those, too."
"If you say so." Snakes shifted. "But you don't still want me hanging around, do you? I mean, I don't know about this kind of stuff. The portal is as far as my knowing goes."
Duke studied his strange companion. "You've been straight with me so far," he admitted. "But I don't know if there might be something else you know, even if you don't know you know it. I'd like to keep you around a while longer. It'll mean more pay."
Snakes' eyes glittered. "Well, in that case . . . I could probably squeeze some more time out of my busy schedule."
Duke was sure he could.
xxxx
For weeks Duke examined the portal, researched, and sought out believers in time-travel. Despite all his efforts, and how much he felt like tearing out his hair, he was no closer to reviving David than he had been before meeting Snakes.
Theirs was an unusual partnership. Snakes would still come to the casino to play poker and other games of chance, and Duke would often represent the house in playing against him, but during their games they mostly discussed what progress—or the lack thereof—had been made with their secret venture.
Snakes wanted to stay alive and free above all else. Duke had sized him up to that effect near the start and his opinion had only been strengthened as the time went on. Snakes was also very greedy, as were many people, and tempting him with money to stay on was all too easy to do.
"Snakes, you're the kind of guy who'll do almost anything for a buck, aren't you?" Duke commented one night.
Snakes shrugged, adjusting the positions of the cards in his hand. "I'll do almost anything to keep living," he said.
"Then it would probably be pretty accurate to say that you're a crook," Duke remarked flatly.
Snakes froze. ". . . I guess you could say that," he admitted. "But there's nothing you could really charge me with. You wouldn't, anyway. Not as long as you still need me."
"That's true," Duke said. A bit of guilt flashed in his eyes but then was gone. "What I'm really wondering, though, is if you've always been this way. Was there ever someone you were worried about, maybe even risked your life for, other than yourself?"
Snakes shifted, uneasy and nervous now. He wouldn't meet Duke's gaze. "What makes you ask?" he retorted. "That doesn't have anything to do with our partnership. We're each in this just for ourselves."
Now Duke shrugged. "I guess I just wondered what would happen if, say, I fell into a time vortex and you were the only one who knew about it. Would you just let me drift through all the time periods or whatever weird thing might happen? Or would you try to find out if you could save me?"
"I don't make a habit of sticking my neck out for people. That just gets you burned." Unconsciously Snakes raised a hand to his cheek, running it down the ugly scar in his flesh.
"Literally?" Duke's eyes narrowed. "How did you get that?"
Snakes glowered at the table and set down the cards he wanted to play. "In the war," he muttered. "It doesn't matter. Are you going to play or aren't you?"
Duke laid down his cards as well. "The Civil War?"
Snakes scowled further. "The War Between the States, yeah. I was a Confederate soldier."
"I thought so."
"Why?" Snakes countered. "Just because I'm from down South?"
Duke paused. "I'm not sure," he said. "I guess something about you just reminded me of a Confederate soldier."
A sneer slowly spread across Snakes' face. "You'd never see me joining any army anymore, Pal."
"I can believe it," Duke said.
He peered at Snakes' cards. "It looks like you won this hand."
Snakes drew the money and chips to him, both pleased and defensive. But Duke didn't bring up the subject of Snakes' past again that night. He let it go as they continued their game.
xxxx
Snakes, too, didn't tend to pry into Duke's feelings. He had accepted what Duke felt had to be and was content to just get paid. Or at least, Duke had thought that was the case. It was a complete surprise to him when one night Snakes suddenly broached a deep subject neither of them had come close to discussing before.
"Tell me something, kid," he said as he laid down his latest poker hand. "What would you say is your reason for existence?"
"Huh?" Duke froze, absolutely stunned beyond belief. Snakes was hardly the type Duke had expected to be so philosophical. "Are you trying to distract me from winning this hand, since you know you're losing?"
"It's an honest question," Snakes said. "This quest to save your friend . . . is that the main or even the only thing keeping you going?"
Duke found himself bristling. "What's it to you, as long as you get paid?"
"It's nothing to me," Snakes said. "But maybe you should give it some thought. I mean, what if nothing ever works? What are you gonna do with yourself for the rest of your life? Just waste it away playing poker? I'm pretty sure your friend would never want that for you."
"You never met him," Duke snapped.
"No, but I can't imagine any real friend would want to see a loved one so tortured like you are," Snakes said. "Maybe nobody else notices because you're good at what you do, but you can't hide the empty look in your eyes. Someone who's been around as much as I have can spot something like that."
"Well, bully for you," Duke said. "Let's turn the question back around on you. What's your reason for existence?"
"Just looking out for myself and keeping myself alive," Snakes said without skipping a beat. "Nobody else cares what happens to me, so I'm sure going to."
"Trying to save a friend is a much nobler reason of existence, even if that is my only purpose right now," Duke said.
"Yeah, but it's sure a crazy one," Snakes said. "At least there's some logic in what I do. But trying to bring back the dead or keep them from dying in the first place . . . that's gotta be the most messed-up goal I've ever heard of."
"It's not like everyone doing that is a Dr. Frankenstein," Duke retorted.
"Okay, yeah, you're right," Snakes said. "But everyone doing that is still nuts."
"You're pretty mouthy for someone who only cares about getting paid," Duke said. "I'd watch it if I were you."
Snakes snarked. "It's not like you're gonna claw me to death with poisoned fingernails for having an opinion," he said. "You're not even gonna fire me. You need me too much. You'll never find anyone else to help you who knows what I know."
Duke scowled. Snakes was right, of course. Anyone else who knew time travel was real, like the scientists who had been unsuccessfully fiddling with the portal, were most unlikely to give him the time of day.
". . . I don't pay you to have an opinion, though," he said at last.
Actually, Snakes had been awfully specific in what he knew Duke wouldn't do. If Duke had cared more, he would have asked about that. As it was, he just wanted this conversation to end as quickly as possible.
Snakes didn't offer anything more, so their game finished with a cool and uneasy silence.
xxxx
When Duke went home that night, he couldn't get Snakes' words out of his head. For a long time he lay on the couch, staring off into space as the questions and comments echoed with no end and no answer.
The fact was, of course, that Snakes was right—as much as Duke hated to admit it. Saving David was Duke's sole reason for existence right now, and David would not like seeing what had become of Duke at all. David had no doubt hoped that Duke could move on with his life, like normal people. He never would have dreamed that Duke would become bent on such a hopeless and insane quest. But Duke had thought there was no possible hope to get him back. Snakes had presented him with a chance he never could have dreamed of before. He couldn't just ignore that. He had to try.
"You get it, don't you, David?" Duke said aloud to the room as he sat up straight and then climbed off the couch. "I have to follow this through. I can't give up. Not yet."
Of course there was no answer, not even a feeling that maybe David had heard him. Duke stood and walked wearily to the doorway. For one moment he paused, his hand on the doorframe. But then he turned and slowly walked out.
He wasn't sure what he was going to say to Snakes, but he knew he needed to say something. Snakes came as usual the next evening, and when Duke saw him, he drew a deep breath and stood up from the table. "Snakes . . . I . . . I'm sorry," he said at last. "About last night, I mean. . . ."
Snakes just shook his head, looking about as weary as Duke felt. "Nah. . . . You were right that I was out of line. I'd never talk back to any of my other employers like that. I've never had something like what you had with your friend. I can't understand that kind of pain. I've got no right to question it."
For a moment Duke was tempted to ask Snakes what he had meant about his strange poisoning comment the past night. But then he closed his mouth and shook his head. It was better to put all of that conversation behind them. ". . . Are we still in business then?" he asked instead.
"Of course," Snakes said. "I never turn down a profitable deal."
He sat down and reached for his wallet. Duke shook off his hesitation and sat as well, drawing out his deck.
Snakes definitely didn't mouth off any more after that, but Duke also noticed that he always seemed sadder. Maybe he regretted not ever being close to anyone, as Duke had been to David. Perhaps Duke should have asked him that too.
But he didn't.
xxxx
When all applications of science failed to yield the wanted results, Duke turned to other methods. Magic had dominated his life during the time Atem had been around. Duke had wanted to get back to reality after the saving the world adventures had ended, but trying to revive someone from the dead was hardly reality. Maybe instead of looking to science, it was to magic that he should focus. He contacted Ishizu, Professor Hawkins, and people near and far whose studies put them in touch with magical objects. Soon he had amassed a list of possibilities and another list of concerned warnings from those worrying he was getting in over his head. While he appreciated the concern, his mind was made up, and he paid more attention to the first list.
With the methods getting more insane than before, Duke and Snakes often took to meeting at their homes to discuss the plan. They still talked at the casino as well, but not as much.
One night Snakes sat at his table in his sparse apartment, playing solitaire as he observed Duke typing into his laptop and scribbling on a piece of paper at the counter. "I can't really help you with this part of things, kid," he remarked. "I know next to nothing about magic."
"No, but you can be my support," Duke said.
Snakes laughed. "I ain't nobody's support." He seemed mostly back to his old self lately, but sometimes Duke saw the weariness in his eyes. He never asked about it, though.
"Maybe not for free," Duke said, "but what about for the amount I'll be paying you?"
"For that, I'll be anything you want me to be . . . as long as it doesn't put me in danger," Snakes said. "Danger is not part of the deal. After all, I wanna be alive long enough to reap my rewards."
"There shouldn't be any danger," Duke insisted.
"Eh. So, have you made any progress?" Snakes asked.
"I've learned about several objects that might do what we want," Duke said. "Some are rumored to actually use time travel. Some are for wishes, but if they can grant wishes, that should include getting someone back."
Snakes leaned on the table with one elbow. "And just how easy or hard is it to get hold of any of these amazing things?" he drawled. "Are they even real or just fantasies and myths some looney dreamed up?"
"This one is definitely real." Duke swung his laptop around and pointed to a large and flat cobalt stone. "It's in a museum around here."
Snakes slapped his forehead. "Are you crazy, kid?! What are you gonna do to get it?! Swipe it? Or maybe sneak in after hours to call on its great power when no one's watching?"
Duke leaned back. "I haven't figured that out yet," he admitted. "I thought this was something you could help me plan out."
Snakes heaved a sigh. "Okay." He got up and went over to the counter. "This'll take some doing."
"Just as long as we figure it out and you earn your pay," Duke said.
"Don't worry," Snakes grunted. "I'll do my ever-loving best."
Duke leaned back, satisfied. "That's what I thought."
xxxx
Snakes' best was indeed worthy of him. Somehow he managed to get them into the museum at night as janitors. "It was either that or security guards, and they wouldn't be investigating janitors as much," he explained. "We have a better chance of slipping under their noses this way."
Duke smirked. "Then let's get to it."
Rehearsing how the caper would go down was long and hard. Their timing had to be precise to avoid the security guards, and they also had to make sure the security cameras wouldn't be a problem. To figure that out, Snakes contacted Coley Rodman, an acquaintance of his who was the head of security at the Oak Bridge Golf Club. Though not sure he liked or wanted to know why Snakes was asking, he did instruct them on how they could replay old footage on the cameras so it would look like nothing strange was happening.
"This better not involve anything illegal," he growled when he concluded his discourse. "I'm not going to get dragged in as an accessory." He pushed his dark cowboy hat back on his head.
"They probably wouldn't like it too much, but it's not really illegal . . . if it comes off right," Snakes replied.
"Oh, well, that makes me feel better," Coley grunted.
"How do you know him?" Duke curiously asked when they were alone again.
"Eh . . ." Snakes looked uncomfortable. "He's a time-traveler too, but he integrated into the present-day even more than I have. If it wasn't for visiting his mother, he'd never wanna go back to the past at all."
Duke quirked an eyebrow. "No kidding. I never would have guessed."
"And that's just the way he likes it," Snakes said. He sighed and stretched. "So . . . tonight's the night. Are you ready?"
Duke nodded without hesitation. "Oh yeah. Tonight, we're going to see if that rock really has the power they said. And if it does . . . maybe tonight we'll be bringing David home."
Snakes doubted it was that simple, but he replied, "For your sake, I hope so, kid."
xxxx
Duke had once asked Snakes what he would do if Duke was in actual danger, stranded in a time vortex in an experiment gone wrong. It seemed a lifetime ago now, but it was strange, how prophetic the query had become.
That was what he thought moments after he and Snakes stood on the edge of a swirling time tunnel that Duke had at long last managed to create thanks to the cobalt stone. It had been tricky, especially fixing the security cameras to not record what they were doing, but at last they had slipped the stone out of its case and were behind the museum in the trees to try it out. Apparently its power was real. Duke leaned forward into the strong winds, not caring as his hair and clothes blew wildly.
"Look at this!" he cried. "We did it! We actually opened something new in the space-time continuum!"
He couldn't see his eyes, and Snakes could only barely see them, but they were filled with mad excitement and anticipation. What was waiting beyond? Would he travel to where David was still alive? Did this portal go instead to nowhere in particular or everywhere at once?
Alarmed and disturbed, Snakes shielded his face and grabbed at his hat as he started to back up. "This is where we part company," he said. "You go on and find your friend. I'm getting out of here!"
"Fine!" Duke called back. "I won't need you anymore. I gave you a blank check. Go ahead and fill in any amount you want."
And he leaped in.
It was an eerie sensation of falling forever, the same sort of feeling he'd had when Noa had made him believe that he was falling into Noa's virtual world. But this was not virtual. This was every bit for real.
It remained exciting for a while. Duke fell a while longer and then the rules of gravity abated. He spun, floated, and twisted in mid-air, half under his own power yet half under something else's. It did not take long before he realized that he could not choose where he wanted to go; the vortex had its own ideas in mind for him.
"David!" he screamed as his body contorted and was manipulated through the dizzying cyclone. The sound echoed and warped many times over, until he could barely distinguish the words. "David, where are you? Are you here? Can you hear me?! I'm coming to find you, to get you back! I'm coming to . . ." He swallowed hard. "To fix an old mistake."
But this was not the way to get him back. Duke knew that, knew that he had to have control over his movements before this would ever work. And that was not going to happen in here.
He was only now becoming aware that he was careening towards a scene, an ancient scene. He could see chariots and palm trees and a palace. It was Egypt of the past.
"No!" he shouted, even though he knew there was no one to hear him, no one to help him. "I can't go there. I can't get stuck in the past. David isn't that far back!"
His heart thumped frantically. Please, God, help me get out of this! His prayer was one of desperation, of futility. It would take a miracle to save him now.
"Hey! Kid!"
A hand snatched his wrist without warning. Duke shot to a stop, as though the force pulling him on had suddenly acquired brakes. But then it started again just as swiftly, trying to drag both him and his rescuer to ancient Egypt.
"It's no use!" Duke exclaimed. "It's going to take me. You have to let me go!"
"I'm not going to be dragged down with you. And you're coming up with me! Fight it, kid. Come on, fight it!"
Duke gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed. He was being pulled in seemingly two directions. But when he couldn't see the confusing reams of spinning colors, he was able to concentrate on his own mind somewhat better. With sheer force of will he managed to rip his other hand free of the current and clutch Snakes' arm. Then they were climbing, ascending as quickly as possible even as the winds of time still swirled around them, trying to pull them in.
Suddenly the pressure was gone. The two collapsed on the grass, gasping and breathing heavily from their ordeal. Duke slumped against Snakes for a moment and then fell away, staring into the night sky as he lay on his back.
"Why?" he choked out. "Why did you come back?"
Snakes passed a hand over his eyes. His hand was shaking too much to even begin to untie the rope around his waist.
"I don't know," he said. "The only times I've ever tried to help someone besides myself, I've ended up hurt. During the war when I tried it, I got branded with this as the result." He indicated the scar. "But when I was running off now I realized you might need someone. And I was thinking about how just looking out for number one hadn't helped me much, either. I . . ." He trembled. "I was one of that Dr. Frankenstein's experiments. I was dead and she brought me back to life."
Duke sat up like a shot. "WHAT?!" Of all the things Snakes could have told him, this was the last thing Duke had thought he would hear. Snakes wasn't just the living proof of time travel; he was the living proof that the dead could be retrieved before the end of the time! He was the living proof that . . . that there absolutely was hope of seeing David again, and soon.
". . . Why didn't you tell me?!" Duke exclaimed.
"What was done to me wouldn't work for your friend," Snakes said. "I wasn't cobbled together from pieces; she stole my body the night I died and kept it in cold storage until she perfected her methods of bringing back the original people body and soul. That was . . ." He drew a shaking breath as he sat up and fumbled to untie the rope. "That was three years. Three long, horrible years of Hell."
Duke stared at him. ". . . Where was your spirit while that was going on?" Maybe he shouldn't have asked, maybe it was obvious, but . . . he had to know. He wanted to know.
"I was stuck in the town I died in," Snakes said. "You might think that wouldn't be as bad as . . . going South, but . . . I don't think there could have been a worse Hell for me. Somebody else who was stuck there too kept . . . mutilating me. There was no unconsciousness, no death, as a release from the pain." He ran a hand over his face. "After I got brought back to life, I was so afraid of losing my life again that I tried to kill the people I'd wronged before, so they couldn't kill me first. Instead I almost died a second time."
"Snakes . . ." Duke slumped back, staring at the battered old former criminal. The pain, the horror, Snakes had suffered was incomprehensible. It was no wonder he had revived with what must have been an extreme PTSD.
"Why would you try to discourage me from reviving David after what you went through?" he had to ask. "You wouldn't be here if somebody hadn't been trying to bring back the dead."
Snakes sighed. "Because from what I know about you, you had a better set-up in life than I did. I didn't like to see you wasting your chance by doing crazy stunts and experiments."
"You really came through for me, Snakes," Duke said quietly. "You're not what I thought you were. Or even what you said you were."
"Yeah. . . . I guess maybe . . ." Snakes trailed off, running a hand into the hair coming out from under his hat. "Maybe eventually I decided that if nothing was working out for me by looking out for number one, I should see if helping somebody else would go better for me this time. Maybe I was tired of standing for pretty much nothing." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Or maybe I just didn't want you to go falling into the wrong time and blundering up history. Maybe I even just . . . nah, nevermind." He went red. "Some people used to tell me I was a good person. I know I'm not, but . . ."
Duke came up on an elbow. "You are a good person," he insisted. "I didn't see it before, but I see it now. Maybe that's why you saved me or maybe not. I don't think I care much why you did it. I'm just grateful you did." He drew a shuddering breath. "And that you made it out alive, unlike . . ." He looked away. "I . . . I don't think I could bear having another life on my conscience."
Snakes was silent. "Are you still going to try to bring back your friend?"
"Yeah." Duke ran a hand into his hair, brushing it out of his face. "Even if it is my only reason for existence right now, and even if it looks crazy and hopeless, I'm not giving up. But I'm not going to go jumping into any spinning wheels unless I know what I'm doing. Or at least, not unless I have a good backup plan in case I don't know."
Snakes nodded. "I'm with you on that." He looked to the hole in the ground. "The thing's gone."
"I guess it's just temporary." Duke sighed. "There has to be a better way. There is a better way, and I'm going to find it."
"You don't believe in giving up, so . . ." Snakes sighed. "I'm starting to think you will."
Duke looked to him. "And are you going to stick with me through the rest of the search?"
Snakes considered the query. "Well," he said at last, "it's not like I have anything better to do."
Duke smiled. "Then it's onward to success." He held out a hand.
Snakes took and shook it.
It was a strange partnership, but Duke believed it was safe. And maybe, perhaps, Snakes was starting to believe in it as well.
