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Wizzu - *grin* No worries . . . I won't stop updating, even if I get a flame. Actually . . . I tend to ignore flames . . . unless they piss me off because they're stupid, at which point I usually fire back. Yeah, unfortunately that kind of stuff does happen . . .I've had a few run-ins like that with my religious choice. But then, most people who attack simply don't understand . . . which generally means that they're in trouble if they start in on me, because I'm what you call a 'religious scholar' . . . I've studied many different religions during my life, so I've got information on just about all of them. I love a good religious debate . . . as long as the other person has an open mind. That said . . . enough rambling, I'll be updating plenty.

Aura Silverblaze - *bow* thank you : )

High Priest Seto - Oh trust me . . . there are plenty of *cough* heated scenes in this story so far . . . I think I counted six at my last check *grin* problem is, I can't post them here in thier full form, which sort of takes the bite out of em. The full versions are posted on AFF.Net though, under the same title and author name, if you want to get the unedited versions : ) That dictionary bit is funny . . . and you're right, it actually does make golf sound sexy. Now who would have ever thought that was possible!? As for who is uke and who is seme . . . it changes with each encounter, so you'll just have to read them all *grin* 'Family By Choice' is a story on AFF.Net . . . You might want to go check that out too : )

Author's Notes - Well, this chapter gives you more background . . . mostly on the 'bar incident' and why Yami is so afraid of losing control. It's a bit short . . . sorry about that, but it's more of a filler chapter than a furthering the story chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it anyway . . . the action will begin again next chapter : )

Chapter 7 - What's Gone Before

Jou hesitated slightly before the door to Yami's bedroom. Did he really want to disturb his friend when something was bothering him so much? He glanced back at the kitchen, and sighed. The others were all in there, waiting for him to talk to Yami . . . he couldn't just leave this be. If he didn't do this, one of the others would . . . and they all figured he or Duke had the best chance at getting their crimson eyed friend to talk.

He knocked on the door softly, nearly missing the soft call from his friend to come in. The door opened slowly in front of him, and he slipped through it carefully, closing it behind him before turning to face the dark interior of the room.

All the lights were off, the heavy curtains pulled tightly across the huge window that spanned nearly half of one wall, dropping the room into an inky blackness that amber eyes tried desperately to penetrate.

"Yami?" Jou whispered, hesitant to break the brooding stillness that seemed to breathe around him.

"I'm here, Jou," a soft tenor came out of the darkness. The general direction told him Yami was at his 'thinking' seat . . . a large, round chair that he frequently curled up in when he was contemplating something.

"Bud . . . you mind turning on a light? It's dark as the depths of hell in here . . ." the blonde murmured. There was a dark chuckle that sent shivers down his spine, and the sudden sound of a lighter. The soft glow of a candle suddenly lit the corner in which Yami was sitting, and Jou nearly gasped at the sight of his friend.

Yami looked like hell, to be blunt. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the crimson color of them had darkened to an almost deep blood red. What struck Jou the most, however, was the look of desolation in them . . . it was as if Yami was facing something he had no control over.

"Funny how you should mention the depths of hell . . ." Yami murmured, drawing his blonde friend out of his thoughts. "Rather appropriate, actually." Jou approached his friend slowly, settling on the edge of the bed that could just be seen in the soft light and regarding his friend carefully.

"What's going on, bud?" he said finally. "You've been closeted in here for nearly two days now. We can't help you if you don't talk to us." Yami sighed, shifting in his seat to gaze at his amber-eyes friend solemnly.

"It's not something you can really help with, Jou," he whispered finally. "It's something that I have to deal with on my own." Jou snorted, startling him.

"Yami . . .you're the one that's constantly telling us that no problem can go unsolved when friends are there to help you," he said. "Talk to me . . .please," he pleaded. "At least let us know what's going on."

"I can't," Yami murmured, his voice husky. "It's not something you can help with, trust me."

"Try me," Jou said, leaning forward. "You're going to destroy yourself if you don't get this sorted out."

"I might end up doing that anyway . . ." Yami murmured. Jou nearly sat back in shock.

"You're not serious!" he whispered.

"Jou . . ." Yami said softly, then sighed. "I don't know. I've never faced this kind of problem before . . ." He sighed, turning to gaze at something off in the blackness that engulfed the rest of his room. "You know about my 'abilities', my friend," he murmured suddenly. "They've been getting stronger . . . and harder to control. And it get's worse when I'm near them."

"By 'them' you mean Marik and his bodyguard?" Jou asked quietly. He could barely make out Yami's slight nod. "Any idea why?"

"I . . . I'm not sure, Jou," Yami replied. "Something about the two of them . . ." his voice trailed off into silence. "I just don't know . . . but I don't trust myself anymore. I thought I had a handle on this . . . if I just kept a hold on my temper, they would stay restrained. But this sudden increase in their potency, combined with the instability when I'm near Marik and Bakura . . . it's impossible to tell. And I don't know what to do about it." Jou sat back in silence.

This was not what he had expected . . . he'd thought that Malik was the issue here, as Yami had been saying all along, but now a lot of the things that had been happening made more sense. Yami had always been frightened of what he could do . . . that combined with the bar incident had nearly driven him to suicide once before, a precipice that Jou and the others had barely pulled him back from.

The incident in the bar was never far from any of their minds . . . it had been a display of power that had been so out of control that it had scared them as much as it had scared Yami. Only their combined will and strong friendship had kept them from completely fragmenting after the incident. He remembered it all too well . . . nightmares had tormented him about it for months afterwards. The others had seen only glimpses of it before they had been knocked unconscious . . . only Jou remembered the whole thing.

*Flashback - Jou's Memory*

It had been a rare night . . . they'd finally managed to convince Yami to go drinking with them, and they had all been in high spirits. The bar they'd chosen was a common one . . . which had probably been their first mistake. Things had been going well . . . until Duke and Yami had started kissing.

A drunk and his cronies had approached the table then, disgusted by the two men and too drunk to care if they started a public brawl.

"Hey fag," the man in the lead had grunted, stalking up to the table and banging a fist on it. "Take that shit somewhere else . . . us normal guys don't want to see that abnormal crap." Yami had looked up from Duke, his eyes going cold. Yami had been slightly drunk at the time . . . and after a fight with Kaiba earlier that evening, had not been in the mood to deal with anyone.

"Normal is a state of mind," he'd growled. "And I am just as interested in seeing you kiss a female . . . but you don't see me coming over to you and telling you to knock it off." Jou had stood to head off the situation . . . he could already see Yami getting angry, and the crimson-eyed man's temper had already been legendary, even before they knew what he could do.

"Look . . . we don't want any trouble," he'd murmured. "Why don't you let me buy you a round of drinks . . . then we can just forget this whole thing." He'd been caught by surprise when the guy had slugged him, forcing him to stumble back into Tristan.

"Looks like the other fags want in on the action," one of the men had said, cracking his knuckles. "You girly boys want us to prove to you what 'real' men can do?"

Duke had stood up then, his green eyes glowing like a cat's.

"Jou said we don't want any trouble. Look . . . we'll just leave. Just get out of the way." The front man had grabbed Duke then, pulling him off his feet before slugging him in the gut and flinging the ebony-haired man behind him to a friend.

"Ain't no fag gonna tell me what to do," the man had slurred. One of his friends grabbed a bottle up from the table, breaking it so that it became a jagged weapon, holding it to Duke's throat.

"Maybe we should show these fags what a real man is like . . ." he'd drawled, cutting a thin line across Duke's neck. "You'd like that though, wouldn't you fag?" He'd reached around, cupping and squeezing Duke's privates harshly, causing the emerald eyes to close as agony ripped through the thin body.

Yami had stood then, even as Jou and Tristan stood to one side, afraid to do anything that would put their friend in more danger, Jou cradling his bruised jaw in one hand.

"Let him go," Yami had hissed, all but spitting the order. "You're hurting him, and you're making me angry." The burly man had laughed in his face.

"Aww . . . does the wittle fag want his play toy back?" the man had mocked, staring down into the crimson eyes with his own hazy brown ones. "Well, tell you what, fag . . . you come take him, if you can. We'll be having our fun in back . . . maybe when we're done, he'll see what kind of things a 'real man' can do." They had begun to move off, laughing as they carted Duke away, the other patrons of the bar too scared to stop them . . . and that's when Yami's control had snapped.

"I said . . . let . . . him . . . go," Yami had growled. Jou had been staring at him, and had seen him gain about three inches in height. His eyes had been lit as if there was a candle burning behind them . . . and when Jou had gotten around to really looking at him, he'd noticed where Yami's height had come from. Yami had been floating . . . his feet had been nowhere near the ground that Jou could tell. He'd gasped, his eyes going wide with shock.

The wind had started then . . . all the doors in the place had banged open as if a tsunami had struck outside. It had howled around the inside of the bar, knocking a good number of the patrons, including Jou and Tristan, flat onto the floor. Jou had managed to regain his feet, struggling to rise as he watched the men carrying Duke freeze and look around in confusion. One of them had finally pointed back to Yami, his eyes widening in terror as he beheld the man floating in mid air, power crackling around him. The man holding Duke had tightened his grip on the slight man, causing Duke to whimper in pain . . . which had only served to further widen the crack between Yami and his tenuous hold on sanity.

Jou had watched in horror as every bottle in the place had shattered, showering their contents on the huddled patrons as well as glass. Next the mirror behind the bar had cracked, a spider web pattern as if some huge fist had smashed into it. The glass had begun to whirl with the miniature tornado, eliciting screams of panic as patrons began to scramble for the doors. He'd nearly shouted out in warning as one jagged bottle piece had flown at the man holding Duke . . . and had gagged in horror as it buried itself in the side of the man's neck, instantly cutting open his jugular and drowning the man in his own blood. The man had dropped Duke, trying desperately to stop his own death as his friends stared at Yami.

"I warned you to let him go," Yami had murmured, his voice barely heard over the rising howl of the wind. His eyes had flicked to the dart board . . . and suddenly all the darts had taken flight, driving towards and into the man who had started everything. Jou had puked then, the image of the man with two darts where his eyes had been forever engraved on his mind. "Now you no longer have to see such 'abnormality'," Yami's voice had come from above him, and he'd begun to quiver in fear at the utter lack of emotion in it. He'd forced himself to stand, however, reaching out towards Yami in a vain effort to stop whatever it was that had started.

His hand had barely grazed Yami's arm . . . but it had been enough to bring his friend back from whatever brink he'd been teetering on. The wind had stopped suddenly, and Yami had collapsed into his arms, out cold. They'd quickly gathered up Duke and Yami, Tristan having been unaware of almost everything due to being glued to the floor.

*End Flashback*

When Yami had come to, he'd been horrified, especially by the headlines that the local newspaper had run about the 'strange and bizarre incident'. Jou had finally forced him to tell them all about his 'abilities' . . . after the blonde had caught Yami staring down at a knife in his hands in his kitchen, holding it to his wrist with the apparent plan of slitting his own wrists. That had been before Yugi had come to live with him . . . he would have been alone in the house with no one to stop him had it not been for Jou's feeling that something like that would happen. They'd almost lost him then . . . but through friendship and severe perseverance, they'd all come through stronger than ever before.

Now it seemed they were facing something almost as bad . . . and once again, he had no way to help his friend except by standing by him.

"Yami," he said finally, "I'm sure this will all work out. You've gained amazing control over your abilities since then . . . they don't go off with every rise of your temper now, the way they used to. You'll get a handle on them again." Yami sighed.

"I hope so, Jou," he whispered, his voice almost desperate. "I really and truly hope so."

*-------*-------*-------*-------*

"Marik, would you stop pacing already?! It's only been two days . . . for the love of Ra, knock it the hell off!" Bakura growled from his seat in the recliner as he once again watched his blonde friend pacing the living room floor. They'd only been home from the hospital for a few hours, and already he was wishing he could go back in the hospital, if just for the peace. Marik was going to drive him nuts if he kept this up.

"His injuries weren't that serious according to the doctor . . . so why hasn't he been at work?" the blonde said, not pausing in his steps. "I want to know what the hell is going on! It's something more than just his cousin being in possible danger . . . I know it is, and damn it, I want to know what it is!"

"Pacing isn't going to help you find out!" Bakura snapped, and then groaned as his still healing wound twinged. "Fuck."

"Are you all right?" Marik asked, pausing for a moment to look at his white haired friend.

"Fine . . . besides you driving me nuts with all that pacing!" Bakura snarled. He hated weakness . . . and being on the wounded list was nothing if not weak to him at the moment. "Look," he said finally, after his wound calmed down, "I'm just as curious as you are, but all we're going on is your hunch. That's not giving us anything solid. It might be just what he said it was, and you're over-reacting." Marik shook his head, platinum blonde hair flying everywhere with his vehemence.

"No . . . I know it's more than that, I can feel it. And I know that you do too . . . you're the empath, you tell me I'm nuts." Bakura couldn't argue with him there . . . he too had felt that Yami wasn't telling them everything. True, concern for his cousin was there . . . but there was also a fear that had nothing to do with his cousin and what Malik would possibly do to him. What Bakura couldn't pinpoint was what was causing it, not without taking his shields down, which he dared not do.

"Will you just calm down? You told me Yami had some stressed ribs . . . maybe the doctor ordered him to take it easy for a bit," he said finally. "We've got plenty of time to get to the bottom of this . . . it's not like Yami is going anywhere, and neither are we as far as I know. We'll just have to take things slowly . . . something you should have been doing from the beginning, I think. What ever prompted you to try to move so fast with him, anyway?" Marik sighed, finally sinking into the couch to put his head in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees.

"I just . . . there's something about him that I can't explain, Bakura," he murmured, his lavender eyes on the floor. "And it's not just my physical reaction to him . . . I'm reacting to him on emotional level as well. I can't explain it . . . but I think I'm really falling in love with him. With Malik . . . in the beginning, before it all went bad, I felt something like this, but this is stronger, more steady." He shook his head, raising his eyes to meet Bakura's dark ones steadily. "I want to know what's going on, Bakura. Thing is . . . I'm not in the least bit afraid of him, and with Malik, even in the beginning, there was a small amount of fear. I don't feel that when I'm near him . . . actually, I feel like I'm in the safest place in the world."

Bakura sighed, running his hand through his already disheveled hair, making it stand up in odd spikes. Marik had always been the more emotional of the two of them . . . but Bakura had to admit, to himself at least, that he knew what the blonde was talking about. He'd felt the same way around the tri-haired man . . . like it was where he belonged. Something about the man just sparked a fire in him . . . but it wasn't a burning fire, it was a calming one. His usually violent temper just seemed to go away when the man was near . . . as did his more psychotic and out of control tendencies. He didn't know why, though, and it bothered him. No one had ever been able to calm him like that . . . not even Marik, and the blonde was his best friend.

Sitting back, he turned his eyes towards the ceiling. Somehow, they would get to the bottom of this . . . he just was at a loss to figure out how.