Chapter One

Seto Kaiba stalked down the corridor. Grasped in his left hand were ribbons, and floating in his wake was a veritable rainbow of helium-filled balloons. Quick, impatient steps displayed his desire to be anywhere else but here, if there were someone to witness them, but the corridor was night-time quiet.

"Yugi Mutou," Kaiba declared at the man behind the centrally-place nurses' station.

"Pardon?" The man blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

"Where is Yugi Mutou? Which room is his?" Kaiba clarified.

"It's after visiting hours..."

Kaiba heaved a sigh. Yes, he knew it was after hours. In his defense, it had been the most trying day of his life. Mokuba had been highly traumatized, then his security detail had required explicit instructions, and the police had to be mollified. All of it had taken time -- time that had slipped away so that it was now deep on the other side of midnight, and well past normal visiting hours.

"Mr. Mutou is in room eight-fifty-four," a woman offered. She reached forward to claim and open a chart in a single swift move. "He's sedated, but you can leave the balloons for him for when he wakes up."

Nodding his acknowledgment of the information, Kaiba turned and walked off.

He hated hospitals. Just hated them. Of course, he wryly noted, no one likes hospitals. Bad things happened in hospitals. The only time visiting a hospital had not heralded an inimical change in his life, had been the day Mokuba was born. Aside from that... It was the smell he hated the most. The antiseptic smell, even masked by citrus notes as it was in this hospital, had wound itself so deeply into his mind with the realization of crushing bad news that it had the power to make him feel like a frightened child, again. He'd spent hours, as a frightened child, waiting, and waiting, and waiting, for the news that his mother was okay, that she had survived the emergency surgery to save her life. That news never came. While he was still trying to understand that his mother was dead -- gone -- never coming back -- never hugging him again, never swatting him gently for being "cheeky", never kissing the top of his head goodnight... The bad news about his father had come. All the hours of waiting didn't bring any good news at all. His parents were torn from him, leaving him with a younger brother to care for, and distant relatives who glanced at him sideways with cold, disillusioned eyes. Not once did one of those relatives offer a hug, a touch, or even simple words of comfort. The antiseptic smell of this hospital brought that panicky and helpless feeling charging back to take over his heart, again.

Kaiba took a deep breath. Roland had called ahead, so he knew that Mutou had survived his surgery, and had been moved to a private room. Kaiba hated hospitals, but, with his grandfather in Egypt, Yugi Mutou didn't have anyone to -- well -- to look after him. And, the debt Kaiba owed to him was so great, it was the least he could do to visit, and leave behind a lousy bunch of balloons. Sedated, hmm? So, Mutou'd be asleep. Kaiba growled mentally at that. He'd have to come back tomorrow in order to complete his self-imposed duty to visit -- as a silent acknowledgment of how wrong he'd been, and how much it had cost Yugi Mutou to prevent Kaiba's error from taking everything that mattered to him away.

He stepped into the dimly lit room. A frown creased his forehead. Mutou was supposed to have a private room, and this one, a double, clearly had someone else in it. Kaiba walked past the other sleeping patient and twitched aside the privacy curtain pulled halfway around Mutou's bed.

Yugi Mutou looked awful. His face was a strange sort of whitish-grey, as if the blood that normally tinged it with the color of life had been drained from his body. Even though he was clearly sleeping, there was a pained sort of strain around his eyes. But what startled Kaiba the most was how utterly quiet Mutou was. He never would have claimed that Mutou was exceptionally energetic, but this sort of stillness was the life-force at a frighteningly low ebb. It took a full minute of holding himself in cautious stillness to confirm the slow rise and fall of the man's chest, and catch the soft susurration of his breath. Hearing what damage Mutou had sustained in a semi-detailed, bullet-pointed medical report from an aide hadn't brought home the realization of just how much Kaiba owed him. Seeing him -- like this -- did.

It was then that he noticed it, and his mind exploded in rage.

Mutou's face appeared strained because he was. His shoulders were pulled into an uncomfortable-looking, stretched-out angle, for his arms, from just below his elbows to his wrists, had been bound against the metal rails of the bed with no-nonsense canvas restraints. Kaiba lifted the light blanket and confirmed that Mutou's legs were similarly immobilized. His lips compressed into a displeased line. There was no way Yugi could threaten anyone to the point of needing to be restrained. My god, the man had just had surgery! A suspicious glance confirmed that Yugi's hands were bandaged.

Yugi's hands...

He'd taken matters into his own hands when he had to. Now was the time for Kaiba to return the favor. He pulled out his cell phone and signaled Roland.

"Are you ready for me to bring the car around front, sir?"

"Yes, but first, call Dr. Karasu and have him meet us at the house," Kaiba responded.

"Sir?"

"I know he was just there this afternoon tending to Mokuba. He's got another patient. Bring the car around when you are finished calling him."

Closing his phone and replacing it in a pocket, Kaiba stared grimly at the damning restraints. At least they padded them, he noted the white padding preventing the sturdy canvas from biting into Yugi's arms. Matter-of-factly Kaiba pinched off the flow of the IV drip by sliding the flow control wheel in its track. He then pulled the business end of the catheter from its place lodged in a vein on the inside of Mutou's elbow reasoning it would hamper him to try to keep track of an IV pole, bag and line, and unconscious man all at the same time.

Kaiba ruthlessly damped down a spurt of alarm as he untied Mutou from his bed. His limbs were distressingly like dead weights as he freed each of them from the restraints. What the hell happened that they would restrain you so thoroughly, and sedate you on top of it? Kaiba wondered as he reached down to pick Mutou up, using the blanket to wrap him as he settled the smaller man across his arms.

"What...? What are you doing?!" the man from the nurses' station demanded as Kaiba passed the desk. "I'll call security!"

"I'm getting my -- my friend out of here before you kill him," Kaiba stated flatly. "My personal physician has been summoned and will meet us at my mansion."

"This is... You can't do this!"

"I can, and I will. Get out of my way."

It would have been a far more difficult undertaking except that Roland appeared at the door and smoothed things over. He'd gotten ahold of Dr. Karasu who even now, after Roland handed his cell phone to the duty nurse on this floor, explained about how this irregular break of hospital protocol was in the best interest of the patient. About how he would take full responsibility for Yugi Mutou's care, sending a fax to that effect with the promise of the original signed document couriered over in the morning. That Seto Kaiba, yes, that Seto Kaiba, was acting under his authority to discharge Mr. Mutou and relocate him for skilled nursing and care at a facility that met and exceeded the standards set by the hospital...

The whole while Kaiba held Yugi and waited for the furor to die down and comport itself to his will. He growled as the nurse, after the phone conversation with Dr. Karasu, tried to take Yugi from his arms to put him in a wheelchair for his official hospital discharge. Pacing just behind him, Roland held copies of Yugi's hospital file as Kaiba carried him to the limousine. Kaiba raised an eyebrow when Roland grunted as he opened the passenger door of the automobile for him. The bodyguard shook his head minutely, pulled out his cell phone, opened it, listened, then helpfully held the instrument to Kaiba's ear.

"You better hope this Yugi Mutou doesn't die on me, Mr. Kaiba. I've surgery privileges at that hospital and if anything goes wrong, it could well be my license on the line. As it is, I will have to go tomorrow and retroactively discharge him. Reams of paperwork. You know how I hate administrative paperwork. I'd say this night is going to cost you, but..."

Kaiba permitted himself a smug smirk. He was good for whatever amount the doctor wanted to add to his usual retainer. "I wouldn't put your license at risk, doctor. I am concerned that if I had left Mutou there, he would have died. I don't like how they were treating him."

"It isn't like you to over-react," the doctor mused aloud. "I'm on my way to the mansion, now. I will meet you there."

Kaiba wondered at his actions on the short ride from the hospital to his house. He wondered why it didn't feel right to ease Yugi's slight weight from his arms to the seat. The only person he'd ever held like this was Mokuba. A tangle of emotions made a shamble of his thoughts as he looked down into Yugi's deathly pale, far-too-still face.

Guilt. I feel guilty for not listening to him sooner. But it was more than that. Gratitude. If Yugi hadn't acted... It could have been Mokuba so frighteningly still in his arms -- or, more likely, worse. Frightened? Why would he be frightened, concerned, really, for Mutou's health?

Because he was. Because he would give Mutou -- Yugi -- the world, if he could, for saving Mokuba. The absolute least he could do was make certain Yugi received the best possible care until he'd recovered. There, he told himself, satisfied that he'd found the answer, I'm just concerned because he helped Mokuba and I feel an obligation toward him. It's nothing more than that.

Despite the late hour, and his grousing, the doctor made reproving clucking noises as he spied Yugi in Kaiba's arms. Kaiba finally permitted the unconscious man to be taken from him.

"My word! If he's a hundred pounds, it's a miracle!" the doctor exclaimed, hefting Yugi gently in his arms as he transfered him to the bed in one of Kaiba's guest rooms. By the door, Roland turned the overhead room lighting to its brightest. The doctor nodded, as this guest room had been outfitted according to his specifications, when Kaiba had first retained his services as the 'on-call' doctor for himself and Mokuba. Dr. Karasu reached out and took Yugi's pulse, listened to his heart and lungs with his stethoscope, pulled up an eyelid to test the unconscious man's pupil reactions to a penlight, and other simple, hands-on diagnostic tests he used to assess the condition of any of his patients.

Kaiba eased as the doctor's unhurried and unalarmed manner reassured him that Yugi was not in any sort of immediate danger from Kaiba's admittedly impulsive action. Roland, no stranger to assisting Dr. Karasu, crossed the room and handed him the copy of Yugi's file when the doctor concluded his basic examination. For several minutes the flipping of pages was the only sound in the room.

"Well. The surgery on his hands was unremarkable. It was mainly muscular damage. The nerves appeared intact, and I know the surgeon. He does good work, so Yugi should regain full use and function, barring any complications."

Relief flooded Kaiba, though he permitted none of it to show. That Dr. Karasu had already started calling Yugi by his first name showed that the doctor already cared about him. Kaiba's precipitous action seemed more and more to have been the right thing to do.

"They really messed up his meds after the surgery, though," the doctor continued. "I've seen this before. Perhaps because he was admitted through emergency, perhaps an oversight on the part of one of the attendings -- they were dosing him as if he were an average adult male. His body is simply not massive enough to cope with doses that high. Couple that with the fact he's evidently allergic to one of the drugs they used..." the doctor stroked Yugi's bangs out of his face. "It seems they induced some sort of 'episode' in him, requiring the restraints that so upset you. Since around one a.m. they've kept him sedated as well."

One of the reasons Kaiba preferred Dr. Karasu, aside from the fact the man would make house calls at any time of the day or night, was that he used drugs as the tools they were, not the be-all and end-all of treatment.

"What this boy needs is rest and quiet, not more drugs. He needs some peace to clear them from his body. He needs to be permitted to be conscious, so he can start to recover from his surgery." The doctor opened his clipboard and made notes. "Roland, bring me a catheter and Lactated Ringer's solution. That will help him clear the drugs quicker. He will need something for pain, but I don't think he needs the big gun drug they were using. There's no need to complicate his life by getting him addicted to a heavy-duty narcotic."

Since Mutou wasn't his little brother, Kaiba stepped out of the room while the doctor got him settled.

"He'll be fine, Seto," Dr. Karasu reassured when he and Roland left the room and closed the door behind them. "I'll stay in the adjoining room, tonight. We activated the monitor, so I'll hear him if he should rouse. I expect he won't. In fact, I'll be surprised if he wakes up for the next day or two." The doctor suddenly yawned. "Between Mokuba this afternoon and Yugi tonight, I'm out on my feet. Kindly don't have a medical emergency yourself. In fact, you look nearly as strung out as I feel. Get some sleep!"

-- -- -- --

"Seto?" A timorous voice carried out to the hallway of the private quarters as Kaiba, per his doctor's orders, headed for bed.

"I'm here, Mokuba," Seto called softly, entering his little brother's room. "Can't sleep, huh? You still worried?"

"No..." Mokuba hesitated. "I mean, it was scary, but I'm okay now. I'm just... Yugi was... I hope he's okay, that's all. There was so much blood..."

Yes, there had been. Seto subjected Mokuba to a searching 'big brother scan' as his kid brother liked to call it. "I'm okay, Seto. Not like this afternoon. I'm -- fine. But, I'm worried about Yugi. He's... His grandfather is away, and I know he's an adult, but no one should be all alone, especially after... Well, he's hurt."

Seto couldn't help it. Sometimes his little brother was so amazing, it made his heart burst a little with love and pride. Yup, I definitely need sleep, Seto noted to himself as he reached out and hugged Mokuba tight. Ah well, time enough for pride tomorrow. "Yugi Mutou did a great service for me, in finding and saving you. They weren't treating him up to my standards at the hospital, so..."

"You brought him here?!" Mokuba threatened to strangle his big brother with his enthusiastic return hug. "You're going to take care of him here?"

"Dr. Karasu is going to take care of him, but, yes, he's here. Until Mutou is well, since he helped you..." Seto squeezed just a little tighter, then reluctantly let his brother go.

There was something scarily wise and knowing in his little brother's eyes, even though a sweet and happy smile swept across his face. "I'm glad. Yugi is a friend, and he's hurt, so it's good that we are going to take care of him."

"Dr. Karasu is taking care of him," Seto growled.

"Yes, Seto," Mokuba replied meekly, though the expression in his eyes were anything but meek. "Knowing that Yugi is going to be taken care of by the best makes me feel better. I'm still sad that he got hurt protecting me..."

"I'm not," Seto declared. "I'd rather anyone else get hurt than you, Mokuba," he clarified quickly. "Still, he deserves better than those idiots at the hospital. Until he's well, Mutou will stay here under Dr. K.'s care."

"You're the best, Seto!" Mokuba declared, shifting down under the covers until his head rested on his pillow. "Sleepy. 'Night, Seto."

"Good night, Mokuba." Seto let himself out of his brother's room, considerably relieved that Mokuba seemed to be taking no lasting harm from the past several days' events. He checked again with Roland that security around the mansion was as tight as possible before finally succumbing to his body's increasing pleas for sleep.

Blood. So much blood. All over Mokuba. Had he shoved Mutou out of the way to get to his little brother? No, the replay of events in the arena of dreams confirmed that he hadn't -- but he would have. He had been dimly aware, while clutching desperately to his little brother, feeling his arms, his legs, his head, his back -- looking him over and hugging him in an excess of relief, that Roland had knelt by Mutou's side, had eased the stricken young man to a supported sitting position, had staunched the copious flow of blood from his wounded hands, applied first aid, and summoned the ambulance. It wasn't that Seto couldn't be troubled by it. It was that until Mokuba was safe, there was no room in his attention for any other concern. Not even for the one who had saved his little brother.

None of the blood had been Mokuba's. All of it had been Yugi's gushing over his little brother like a horrific wave of benediction in the action that had certainly saved Mokuba from harm, and quite possibly saved his life. Kaiba didn't want to dwell on 'might have beens' enough to determine if the knife slash, if left unchecked, would have found a vulnerable opening to spill Mokuba's life in a red tide out on that warehouse floor.

Not that Mokuba had escaped completely unharmed. He was a feisty kid, not cowed easily, and some level of physical mayhem had been inflicted upon him in the days while he'd been held against his will. Not anything that wouldn't heal, given time -- bruises, a few cuts -- but enough for Kaiba to issue a command to his men that had placed him very much at odds with the police. Some level of psychological mayhem had been wrought on the poor kid, too; if nothing else, the helpless feeling of being kidnapped, and knowing he was being used as a pawn against his brother. Seto had promised to keep Mokuba safe, and, entirely against his will, that promise had been broken.

Yugi had made good on Seto's broken promise, stepping in, with wild claims that had seemingly been true, of knowing -- somehow -- where Mokuba was being held, and that Mokuba was in an increasingly dangerous situation. Yugi, despite Kaiba's bitter, mocking derision kept at him, and at him, and at him, finally suggesting that to check out this particular warehouse couldn't hurt anything. Yugi had found Mokuba. Yugi had protected him. And, Yugi had bled for him.

Blood. So -- much -- blood...

Seto woke up. His heart pounded in his chest, and, ironically, the sound of rushing blood filled his ears. Mokuba is okay. Yugi is okay. The one who did this is dead. He reminded himself of these critical facts. It helped, but only a little. Seto punched his pillow, ostensibly to tamp the downy fill, but more to discharge some of his anger and frustration at the situation. I really hate hospitals, the thought wandered lazily across his mind as he put his head into the sizable dent he'd made in the loft of his pillow. Trips to hospitals have this way of really complicating my life, Seto groused as he tried to compose his mind toward sleep again.

-- -- -- -- -- --
Author's Note

The treatment I have Dr. Karasu giving to Yugi to help clear the medications from his bloodstream is based on about five minutes of Internet research into the subject. I humbly beg the pardon and indulgence of anyone skilled in the medical field who is reading my story!