A/N: I wrote this chapter over a couple days. I am cramming because Finals are in 2 weeks and I'm running low on free time. I promise to be more regular once the semester ends at the end of April, but until then school comes first. Unfortunately.

Side note: Titus Abrasax is NOT an OC. He is a canon character from the world/series that will be the main crossover world in this fic: Jupiter Ascending. To those of you who already know him, no spoilers~ To those of you who don't, don't worry. You can read this fic and learn about him as you go or Google him if you want. Whatever you choose, I hope you enjoy~

Chapter summary: In which Ryou and Bakura meet someone who may or may not be a friend while hanging out and Kaiba and Seth finally reunite with someone they were beginning to fear they would never see or hold ever again.

4: Awakening to Gold and Blue

They were going to be sick. Everything hurt. There was nothing. No Shadows. No people. No darkness. They were floating in…

The fuck?

Carmine eyes snapped open just as a jolt of adrenaline raced through them setting their nerves tingling with sensation and the desire to run! But he couldn't run because he couldn't touch anything. He tilted his head back as far as it would go and saw the floor exactly four feet below him.

"What the fuck?" Bakura hissed, reaching out as far as he could.

No good. He couldn't reach. Snarling, he tried flipping his body over, only to find it wouldn't budge from its suspended position. Disconcerted, Bakura kicked. Again, nothing. He could move his body freely, but he was helpless to change his position or get out of this glowing column of bluish light.

What was this? The X-Files?

He snarled in growing frustration. Damn it all, he couldn't get out. At least not by the usual means. The Thief still had his Shadows.

But there were no Shadows.

Stunned, Bakura stilled, his red eyes widening in dawning horror. No Shadows meant no Shadow magic. No Shadow magic meant no Traveling, or summoning, or Spells, or Traps. No Shadows magic meant no way to call for help.

No Shadows meant no way to hold his and Ryou's fractured souls together. Without the Shadows, both Ryou and Bakura would die. That was simply unacceptable.

There was no way Bakura was going to let that happen. If he and Ryou couldn't escape using the Shadows, then they would have to rely on more conventional means. Unfortunately, they couldn't just hop out of this Osiris accursed floating light beam thing and make a run for it. They would just have to play the long game.

It would probably be better for both of them in the long run if The Scribe was in control when their captors, whoever those Roswell rejects were, decided to formally introduce themselves. Best wake his yadonoushi up then.

Carefully, he pushed the door to Ryou's soul room open. The Scribe's soul manifestation was asleep on the floor right where he'd fallen when they both lost consciousness. Muttering in mild annoyance, Bakura knelt and nudged his yadonoushi's shoulder. When his incarnation mumbled and blinked awake, Bakura sat back.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Ryou rubbing his soft brown eyes and sat up, rubbing his head. "I'm fine, I think," he said in a groggy voice. "Bit of a headache though."

Bakura scoffed. "No doubt," he said. His frown deepened. "Whatever those things did had better be short-lived. If we still have a headache in an hour from now, I'll kill every last one of those little gray bastards."

"Eh… I'd rather you didn't," Ryou said, wincing. "I don't think that would be the best idea. We don't even know where we are."

"True," Bakura admitted with a shrug. "But wherever it is, there are no Shadows."

"No-! What?!" Ryou cried, stunned.

Before Ryou could demanded more information, Bakura yanked them both back to awareness with Ryou in control of their shared body. Ryou opened his eyes and gasped.

:Um, 'Kura,: Ryou's mental voice whispered. :What happened? Where are we?:

:I don't know,: the Thief replied, sounding thoroughly vexed. :It's a gaudy place though.:

:Gaudier than Egypt?: Ryou quipped, a teasing edge to his voice.

:Definitely.:

Ryou snickered despite himself. It wasn't often the Thief described something as 'gaudy.' He couldn't resist a little teasing. :Pot, meet kettle,: he chirped, biting back a grin.

:I beg your pardon?: Bakura cried. :What's that suppose to mean?:

:Nothing. Nothing.:

Ryou did his best to smother his amusement in favor of staring at the ceiling above them. It wasn't all gold, but damn if it wasn't at least covered in gold. Mostly. Ryou could see a few places that weren't covered in gold but that didn't make the intricate, overly detailed workmanship any less gaudy.

:Honestly, at least the Egyptians knew when to stop,: Bakura commented.

Ryou ignored the spirit, narrowed his eyes, and glanced to their left. The style of the room they were currently hanging out in-

:Really, Ryou? Puns? Now?:

-was incredibly high class. With all of the gold and ridiculously opulent detail-work, the room wouldn't have been out of place in a Baroque-era palace. A glance to their right showed just more of the same. There was so much gold that, to be honest, Ryou was beginning to wonder if this was mostly for show rather than practicality.

:Gold was never practical for anything besides decoration, anyway,: Bakura put in. :It works for magic, though.:

:But there aren't any Shadows,: Ryou whispered, shivering as the creeping feeling of cold began to inch its way into his soul.

:No. There aren't.:

Ryou took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He focused on relaxing his body muscle by muscle just like Bakura had taught him. If he could banish at least some of the tension in his body, then it would allow his mind to think more clearly.

"Ah, awake I see."

:What the-?!:

Both Ryou and Bakura let their head hang to see the person who had somehow snuck up on them. How by Osiris black heart had that happened? They were slipping.

The person was a young man, probably no older than Kaiba in appearance. But both Ryou and Bakura knew appearances could be deceiving. The man's hair was a soft brown highlighted by honey-gold in the light of the room. His eyes were a light brown speckled by flecks of green that sparkled when he smiled. He wore a simple black shirt and dark brown pants accented by silver necklaces. His long sleeves were covered in gray and black designs matching the fabric draped over his left shoulder like a toga. It was odd.

Then again, everything look odd right now. Ryou was looking at the man upside down because he couldn't change positions. This was going to be murder on his neck.

The man smiled and Ryou decided he didn't like him.

"I apologize for the indelicateness of your arrival, but I assure you, it was necessary," the man said. "Normally, I would rather not use Keepers. But I had no other way to retrieve you safely."

:Oh, by Osiris. He talks like the Pharaoh,: Bakura groaned.

Ryou just blinked and kept his mouth shut.

"Can you speak?" the man asked, tilting his head curiously. "I don't mean to pry, but I'm afraid I must ask."

Ryou frowned and said nothing.

After a few moments of silence, the man sighed. "You must understand, Alsien is one of my best researchers and a dear friend," he said. "When he told me his son was in danger, I could not stand by and do nothing."

All-seen…?

Ryou blinked. "I don't… Who are you talking about?" he asked hesitantly.

This time, it was the man who frowned in confusion. "Alsien Ba'kra," he said, as if that clarified everything. "You… You don't know your own father's name?"

"Ba'kra?" Ryou murmured, his eyes growing wide. "Bakura, you mean?"

The man pursed his lips. "Um, well, no," he said slowly. "I suppose you could pronounce it that way, but that isn't correct." Then the man's expression cleared. "Ah. I forgot, you weren't raised here." He smiled and his eyes sparkled. "Your accent is not one I have ever heard before so perhaps you are saying his name correctly and I simply can't tell. Forgive me," he said, bowing politely. "I was told your name is Riyuoh. Is that true?"

"It's Ryou," the Scribe corrected with a frown.

"My apologies, once again," the man said, smiling. A slight flush colored his cheeks as he hesitantly approached the still floating boy. "It would appear our accents will cause some confusion for a while."

"Maybe," Ryou agreed, turning his head to follow the man's progress through the room. "Who are you?"

"Oh! Goodness, my manners seem to have escaped me," the man said, flustered. "I am Titus Abrasax, Second Primary of the House of Abrasax. As the son of one of my best employees, you are under my protection as a guest, of course."

Ryou eyed the man warily. "My- I don't know who you are," he said.

Titus smiled ruefully. "I am aware," he said. "If it means anything, I don't know much about you, as well. Alsein could tell me very little of the time since he vanished."

"I still don't understand what you're talking about," Ryou admitted.

Titus nodded. "I suppose this would be a lot to take in so suddenly," he murmured. Louder, he said, "I'll try to explain what I know, but then you should continue to rest. From what I understand, inter-reality travel can wreak havoc on the body."

"Inter- What?: Ryou gasped, his eyes bulging in shock.

:What by Osiris unholy fire?!: came Bakura's equally stunned cry from within Ryou's mind.

"Yes," Titus said, a small smile playing on his lips. "In short, your father was one of my best researchers," Titus said. "He went missing almost fifteen standard years ago while studying a planet far from here. When we heard what had happened, we thought he had…" He bowed his head to hide his face and take a deep breath before continuing. "We thought him dead," he finished quietly.

"We?" Ryou asked hesitantly.

Titus nodded. "My siblings and I," he said. "But then your father reappeared, alive and well a year or so ago. He wasn't able to tell us much of where he'd been before he left again, but it was enough to give me hope." Titus shook his head in awe. "Your father is an amazing man, Riyuoh," he said proudly.

"It's Ryou," the Scribe murmured, trying to absorb the sudden influx of information.

"Ah, Ryou. My mistake," Titus corrected. "I seem to be apologizing quite often and we've only just met." He smiled, laughter dancing in his eyes. "It's just, I've always known you as Riyuoh so this change will take some time to get used to. Will you forgive a few slips of the tongue?"

Always known…?

"How long have you known me?" Ryou asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer. "I don't remember ever meeting you before."

Titus's smile softened. "Well, we've never met face to face," he admitted, "but I was aware of you from before your father vanished. He spoke of you often in his reports. He was always proud of you."

Then why did he always leave me alone?

"Last I heard," Titus said thoughtfully, "your sister was still a babe in arms. How is she? Alsien would not tell me much."

Ryou swallowed against the welling emotion. "She's dead," he said. "She was with my mother when…"

A heavy sadness filled Titus's vulnerable brown gaze and he bowed his head. "I seem to have put my foot in my mouth once more," he murmured. "You have my deepest condolences. To lose both a mother and a sibling..." He shook his head. "It's not something I ever wish to experience again. Nor would I wish it on my darkest enemy."

Ryou narrowed his eyes suspiciously, feeling Bakura's distrust leak into his mind. "I can think of a few people I could wish that on," Ryou said, studying Titus's reactions closely. He could feel Bakura start muttering names in his head.

"You can?" Titus said, snapping his head up to stare at Ryou in horror.

Despite both Ryou and Bakura's misgivings, Titus looked genuinely horrified by the thought of murder. Eventually, Titus sighed stepped back obviously not sure what to say next.

"I suppose things are different in the world you grew up in," Titus said softly. "But here, murder isn't…" He licked his lips. "It would be best if you refrained from doing anything drastic, shall we say."

Ryou just lifted an eyebrow and gave Titus a flat stare. "You do realize I'd take you more seriously if you let down from here, right?" he said.

Titus shook his head. "I can't do that," he said. "In this case, I defer to my doctor and she has declared you should remain as you are until this evening just to be sure you're clean of all foreign contagions."

"Foreign… I'm sick?" Ryou asked, glancing down at his body in confusion. He couldn't feel any pain nor did he feel sick.

"Not from what we know of your people, no," Titus said. "But we both have completely different sets of immune systems. It traditional to have ensure everyone interactions between my people and other races don't potentially get each other sick." His smile turned grim. "We learned the hard way a long time ago that sometimes a casual encounter can spark the eradication of an entire race. This," he gestured to Ryou's hovering form, "is just a precaution. As soon as the doctor is give the all-clear, you'll be released. You have my word."

:So he says,: Bakura mumbled for Ryou's ears only.

"I'll take your word for it, then," Ryou said with a sigh. "It's not like I have much of a choice," he added just loud enough for Titus to hear.

Their host grimaced. "I could send your father in here while you wait, if you wa-"

"No!" Bakura said sharply startling both Ryou and Titus.

:Wha-: Ryou gasped, staggering from the force of being slammed back from control. :'Kura?:

"I don't want to see that bastard," Bakura hissed.

"I-" Titus tilted his head in honest confusion. "Alright," he said. "I don't have to let him in. I just thought you would want to see him."

"I'm not interested in seeing someone who tried to kill me when I'm unable to fight back," Bakura said, twisting Ryou's face into a furious scowl.

"Kill…" Titus breathed an incredulous laugh. "Alsien wouldn't- I find your claims hard to believe."

"Believe what you want, bastard," Bakura sneered.

:'Kura!: Ryou cried.

"It doesn't change the fact that he stabbed me in the back, literally," Bakura finished. He glared at a dumbfounded Titus before deliberately looking away, effectively ending the conversation.

Titus didn't move for a good few seconds before he finally stepped away from the blue light that held Ryou suspended. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know. I'll have my assistant keep Alsein away you until you're ready. Rest well."

Without another word, Titus swept out of the room. Ryou waited until he heard the hiss of the door sliding shut behind their host before groaning.

"Was that really necessary?" he said aloud.

:Yes, it was,: Bakura said.

:But I want to see him,: Ryou said, feeling tears prick his eyes.

:By Osiris snout, why?!:

:Because he's my father!: Ryou said desperately.

:He tried to kill you,: Bakura hissed. :I'm not letting him anywhere near you. At least not until we can either run or defend ourselves. Preferably the latter.:

:Preferably the former, you mean,: Ryou argued.

The spirit growled. :What part of 'he tried to kill you' do you not understand?: he demanded angrily.

:I understand all of it,: Ryou said softly.

He closed his eyes in the waking world and opened them in his soul room. Light from a remembered sun filtered in through the lone window above a low bed. The former spirit of the Ring stood by was positively fuming. His carmine eyes gleamed furiously.

"I understand all of it," Ryou repeated, approaching Bakura's soul manifestation. "But he is still my father."

"Which makes what he did even worse!" Bakura snapped, meeting Ryou's gentle brown eyes with his own glare.

"Yes, it does," Ryou agreed. "Which is why I want to ask him why he did it. I want to know why. I deserve to know why, 'Kura. And I won't let anyone, not even you, stop me from getting an answer."

Bakura snarled. "Fine," he said. "But only if I'm allowed to kill him afterwards."

"No, you can't kill him," Ryou said sternly. "If anyone's going to kill my father, it's going to be me."

That got a reaction from the former spirit. Bakura turned startled red eyes to Ryou's and frowned. For a moment, neither spoke.

"Oh, fine, whatever," the Thief grumbled. "But you had better make it painful."

Ryou sighed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward so his body rested against the Thief's and wrapped his arms around Bakura's back. The spirit made no move to chastise him or push him away. Instead, Bakura returned the gesture, reaching up to grasp Ryou's shoulders. It was as much as Ryou knew he would get at the moment. They were both too high strung to offer anything more.

But it was the thought that counted. Perhaps that was why Ryou could finally allow himself to cry.

When he woke up, he felt rested and lethargic. Small arms looped around his shoulders and the soothing rhythm of a steady heartbeat pulsed under his ear. He didn't have to open his eyes to know who held him. There was only one person alive who felt like home.

Mokuba.

His lips twitched up at the corners. Mokuba's embrace was warm and safe. Lifting a hand, Kaiba grasped one of his little brother's arms and squeezed gently. If Mokuba was here, then Kaiba had a reason to open his eyes.

When he did, he was surprised to find it dim. He wasn't inside, that much he knew. Kaiba could feel the gentle breeze on his face. The space immediately around him was dark but some light filtered in from above. The light had a silvery-blue quality to it that was both comforting and familiar. Why…?

Reluctantly, Kaiba pushed himself up to his hands and knees. He smiled when his little brother made an aborted motion to grab him and pull him back. He caught the smaller hand in his own and ran his thumb over it. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss on Mokuba's black hair. That unruly mop was beginning to get much too tangled. Kaiba would have to talk his brother into getting a haircut later.

Sitting up, Kaiba bumped his head against the roof of their little cave. Curiously, it wasn't hard. It was soft and gave when pressed. Turning his head, Kaiba regarded the sight curiously. When his blue eyes settled on the silver-blue flesh, Kaiba stiffened. He recognized it.

It was one of Kisara's wings.

Seth, still groggy from the deep, healing sleep, suddenly surged to the forefront of Kaiba's mind just short of taking control. Kisara was here, now. She was theirs again. Both Kaiba and Seth could feel her energy thrumming in Kaiba's Deck like heartbeat. But neither of them remembered summoning the Blue Eyes White Dragon. Had they done it in before they drifted off to sleep? Or had she summoned herself?

:Did you sleep well?:

Di- Wha- How? Kaiba felt his throat tighten with an emotion he didn't dare identify. Whoever was mimicking her voice… He would kill them.

:Don't say that,: that painfully familiar voice chided.

He made a choking noise that was almost a sob. Dear Ra, if this was a dream, Kaiba wasn't sure if he ever wanted to wake up. The former High Priest was just as dumbfounded as Kaiba. Their emotions welling within them was almost too much.

She could talk. Obelisk, God of the Balance, Kisara could speak to them once more. It was beautiful. Kaiba often dreamt of her voice, wondering if he would ever hear it with his own ears. He remembered what it sounded like from Seth's memories, but the reality was so much better. It made his heart ache.

:Seto,: she whispered, and damn if he didn't whimper.

Sadness that was neither his nor Seth's pressed against their shared minds accompanied by a wellspring of love and adoration. The wing before them lifted, revealing the clear night sky. Moonlight glimmered over Kisara's breathtaking scales, only to flicker and fade when the wing faded away.

"No," they pleaded, their eyes pinned to the vanishing wing. "Don't leave me. Kisara. Kisara, please."

Tears fell freely from their cheeks. This was trick; a cruel, vindictive trick. She couldn't do that. She couldn't talk to them for the first time in 5,000 years and then leave. Their hearts couldn't take it. But the wing was gone now, like mist over a glassy lake. Don't leave.

"I won't."

Arms wrapped around their shoulders, gripping his chest with dull fingernails. Soft hair tickled their neck and draped over their arms. A warm chest pressed against their back. Lips brushed the juncture of their neck and shoulder.

"Never."

"This isn't real," they whispered.

"It is," she whispered back.

They shook their head. They couldn't… "It can't be." It was plea for mercy. They had lost so much. Their dream of giving her a body once more was all they ever wanted. If this was a trick, someone kill them.

The arms around them tightened, the dull nails digging into his chest. "Don't say that," she said, desperately. "It's not a trick. Please, believe me. My boys. My precious boys."

If… If this was real, then they had to see. They had to see her.

They swallowed against the gnawing fear in their gut and turned their head. They were met by the purest, most beautiful shade of blue they had ever seen. They knew those eyes. They could never forget them. The very idea was blasphemous.

Her face was paler than they remembered, but so were they. Her hair was longer too and shone a soft silver-blue like the wings of the Blue White Dragon. Her pale pink lips were part in as she breathed. Breathed. She was alive.

They needed to see more. They turned in her embrace, planted their hands on either side of her face. Their fingers wove through her hair, their thumbs traced her cheek bones, and they still couldn't believe it. The flush in her cheeks and the steady rise and fall of her chest assured them she was very much alive. She was smiling even though tears sparkled in the moonlight. No. No, she shouldn't cry. She should never cry.

They wiped the tears from her eyes with their thumbs. They couldn't speak. They could barely think. Was this real? It felt real. They could only stare at her awe as fumbling thoughts tumbled through their minds. This was real. This was really real.

"Kisara?" It was barely a whisper. Their voice cracked like thin ice. Please… Please be-

"Seth," she replied, her voice deep and just as heavy with emotion as theirs. "Seto." She reached up and covered their hands with her own. "My boys." They sobbed. "My precious boys."

"Kisara."

They couldn't look away from her eyes. They didn't want to, ever. Never again. They would never lose her again. She was theirs.

"And you are mine," she said softly.

It was a promise. One none of them would break.