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Chapter 12:

Yugi's knuckles struck the exterior of the sleek, dark wooden door for the fifth time.

"Yami, please, answer the door," Yugi plead, sounding more and more like a broken record. After getting off the elevator, he had scurried to the end of the hall to Yami's studio and knocked warily, but received no answer. After being ignored for a little while, his knocks became harder, louder, and more frantic. He had never considered the fact that Yami wouldn't be here, or worse—if he was here, he was simply ignoring him. Yugi wasn't sure which option worried him more. He needed to see Yami, at the very least to know that he was alright. He had yet to reply to any of his messages, nor had he seen him at school at any part of the day. Now Yugi's motive for talking to Yami became less and less about explaining himself and more about just making sure the older teen was alive. He brought his fist back up to the door but let it slide back down to his side, completely dispirited. What a mess he had found himself in. He leaned his forehead against the door and closed his eyes, finally letting the tears he had held in fall.

"Just talk to me!" he demanded. Before he knew what he was doing he had brought his fisted hand back and punched the door, ignoring the sudden searing pain that shot up his arm as he struck it again and again until his face was inflamed, his voice was hoarse, and his hand was blue and bleeding. He sobbed, bringing his battered hand to tuck under his other arm and turned back towards the elevator. He used his non-throbbing hand to hit the ground floor button, and when the elevator finally came to a stop, he rushed out through the glass doors of the building, still nursing his hand. The cool late-afternoon air greeted him and he inhaled sharply, now only acutely aware of the damage he had done to himself. Great—just how was he supposed to explain this to his grandpa?

There were many more people rushing up and down the sidewalk now as there were before, as people were getting off work and out of school and were now bustling to get home to their own families. Curious and concerned eyes watched Yugi, whose own eyes were red and swollen. He slipped his hand further into the nook between his opposite arm and armpit, not ready to explain. He just needed to get home. Head down, he dashed past people, not caring who he bumped into or who bumped into him.

"Aye!" a thickly-accented voice shouted somewhere from behind him, "Yugi! Slow down, man!"

Yugi came to a halt, knowing that the voice did not belong to the one person he cared about at the moment. He clenched his eyes tight and sighed in exasperation, his once forgotten hand now aching and swelling. Just great. He felt a hand on his shoulder but roughly shrugged it off. He was not in the mood for this. "What do you want now, Joey?" he asked calmly, surprised his voice didn't betray the anger and grief he was feeling. Joey circled around to face him as people continued to dodge around the pair.

"Where are you off—whoa, what's wrong, man?" Joey asked softly, finally taking in the Yugi's state as he turned annoyed reddened eyes on him. "You been cryin'?"

"What's it to you? Are you here to make my life even more miserable?" Yugi challenged, slightly embarrassed at being seen so vulnerable and upset. Joey shook his head.

"Relax, man," Joey countered, the usual smugness absent from his face for once. His gaze flickered down to the battered hand Yugi was desperately trying to conceal and then back into vulnerable violet eyes. "What happened to you?"

Something clicked in Yugi's mind, and before he knew it, the hateful facade dropped, and all that was left was the anguish and worry for his other half. His shoulders drooped as pitiful sobs shook his body and more tears began to materialize. Again, Joey refrained from the pompous and conceited habits and instead, pulled the smaller teen away from the judgmental and prying eyes of the people trying to inconspicuously figure out why the two were standing so awkwardly in the middle of the sidewalk.

"C'mon man, let's get that cleaned up, okay?" Joey suggested, nodding down to Yugi's wound. Yugi hesitated but didn't protest as he was half-dragged to a part of town he didn't quite recognize and into a an apartment that had certainly seen better days. It smelled of stale cigarettes and old paint, and as Yugi stepped into the cluttered living room behind the strangely quiet Joey, he took in the dingy walls and stained carpet. He followed Joey down a narrow hallway to what he assumed was his room and Joey closed and locked the door behind him. Yugi looked around carefully. Joey's room didn't seem to quite fit in with the rest of the apartment, as it was surprisingly clean (or clean enough for a teenager), and didn't smell as musty or old. He watched as Joey walked over to a tall wardrobe in the corner of his room and pulled out a shoe box without a lid.

"Can I see your hand, Yug'?" Yugi slowly untucked his hand and held it shakily out so Joey could examine it. Surprisingly gentle, Joey turned and twisted it to get a better look at it, then clicked his teeth. "Meh, I've seen worse. It probably feels worse than it actually is, huh?"

Unsure at how to respond to his sudden change in character, Yugi didn't respond. Though it seemed Joey expected as much as he sat Yugi down on unmade bed behind him and started to take out the contents of the box. First there was a washcloth that he soaked with the contents of a water bottle. He wrung out the excess water into a bowl and carefully dabbed the blood from Yugi's hand. When the cloth got too dirty, he would again wring it out and pour more water onto it and get back to business. After most of the blood was gone, he then reached for some sort of gauze in a squeeze bottle and slathered it generously onto some of the open cuts and bruises. Finally, he used a roll of bandages to wrap Yugi's hand in order to keep it from being too exposed. Satisfied with his work, he gave a slight nod and reloaded all of the materials into the box and returned it to the nook within his wardrobe.

Yugi looked down at his now wrapped hand in wonder, wiggling his fingers experimentally to see how manageable the pain was. It was nothing more than a sharp throbbing now. Joey had patched him up with all the tenderness that he Yugi had never even associated with the taller teen, but what irked him more was just how it seemed to be second nature for him. He turned his eyes back on Joey in silent question.

"So, whaddya' think? Will the patient live?" Joey joked. Yugi forced a tiny smile.

"Y-yeah, thank you, Joey," he replied, "really."

Joey dismissed the thank-you and winked. "Not a problem, man."

"Joey? Why do you keep that box in your closet?"

The air suddenly seemed to shift as Joey stuffed his hands in his pockets and found the floor much more interesting. "Ahhh, let's just say I've had to do a few of my own patch jobs every once in awhile livin' in this place." Yugi seemed slightly confused, so he added, "With my dad."

"Oh," Yugi swallowed thickly. "I'm s-"

"It's nothin' really." There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as Joey seemed to drift away in thought a bit, creases marring his forehead as he tried to figure something out. Soon enough, the old Joey seemed to return, and he offered another smirk. "Anyway, what were you doin' out there cryin'?"

This time it was Yugi's turn to frown, and he remembered the reason for his griefs was standing right before him. "Well, thanks to you, I haven't heard from Yami in like three days." He tried to keep the anger out of his voice, he really did. It just didn't seem to work. "Why would you do that, Joey?"

Joey sank into the bed beside him and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about that, and everything else. I haven't been myself lately. I can't exactly explain why...just...well, it's complicated."

"What do you mean? What's complicated?"

Joey opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it because he sighed again, shaking his head. "It's just complicated, Yug'."

There seemed to be such sadness in Joey's voice in that minute that Yugi thought he imagined it. His expression seemed pained and conflicted, but also a little tense, as if he was having a war within himself. Yugi wondered if Joey even remembered that he wasn't alone in his room. On one hand, he had been making his life a living nightmare; yet, on the other hand, Yugi had never been one for anger or hatred. He was the living embodiment of forgiveness and light. And Joey really did seem troubled in that moment. Maybe all of this...was a cry for help?

Yugi tentatively reached over and placed his bandaged hand onto of Joey's balled fist.

It was the first genuine smile from Joey Yugi had ever seen.