…+…+…
Chapter 5 - A 'Father' to his 'Son'
A wave of adrenaline crashed down on Seto. He sat bolt upright in his chair. His eyes darted around the room, but no monsters jumped out at him. He looked back down at Mokuba, still sound asleep. Still unaware of the tempest blowing just outside of his perception.
A whirlwind of torment was whipping through Seto's mind. There was a monster waiting to pounce. Shadows of memories stalked the edges of his consciousness. The bitter taste of fear had filled his mouth. Fear not for his own sake but for his brother's. Still, he reminded himself, he had managed to keep it all away from his brother. This was the bit of debris that he clung to in the storm, praying that it would float him to safety. If all that he accomplished in his life was to have given his brother a good life. If all he did was allow Mokuba to grow up without worry or fear of the monster, then his life would have meaning. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from the boy's face. If he could bring about this one miracle, he would have achieved some small measure of humanity.
"I never thought that I'd see you care so much for someone who was not Pegasus." A soft voice came from the doorway. Despite his stormy mind, worries, and woes, Seto smiled.
He stood up and walked to the door to greet his visitor. This dark night could use some bit of light. "Hello. I'm glad that you managed to come for a visit."
"Oh, Darkling!" The smaller man threw his arms around Seto's torso. Despite himself, Seto took a deep breath, he breathed in a scent which brought back some of the few good memories he still held from his childhood. "I understand why you'll never come back, but saying 'hello' to us, won't give him the upper hand."
Seto wrapped his arms around his guest and felt the faint presence of Love.
+…+
Careful hands work tenderly to clean scratches on a small cheek, scratched and bruised. They expertly apply makeup to cover the blue and purple prints blossoming of the little face. The cheek pulls away. "Stay still and you will be all fixed up." Tears fight to break free of blue eyes. The blue eyes struggle to stay frozen and resolute. "It's ok, Darkling. You can cry. There's no one else here and I'll make sure that no one else finds out about this." Pale fingers brush against a small cheek, though not as delicate their touch is more welcome than those of the Master. The boy doesn't pull away from the touch and arms open wide for him, offering up a hug.
The invitation is a regular occurrence. Arms held open for the boy to fall into like he did so long ago. But now the boy can no longer allow himself that comfort. He needs to be strong. The splints bound to his leg remind him why he needs to be strong but the little boy gives a begrudging sniffle. He stays seated on the bench and his cold blue eyes stare out into nothing. The man lets his arms drop and begins cleaning the wounds on the boy's arm.
The man only smiles as the boy scowls. That scowl is not for him. "I will put a bandage on your arm and then you will be all set, Darkling."
The little boy wonders who 'Darkling' is.
"You are my little Darkling, because you always have such a dark cloud on your brow. You are just a little one but you are so ready to be so dark. You try so hard to be without feeling… You're not quite ready for it, though." He speaks softly as his deft fingers fly about his work, wrapping the long white strip of bandage around the small forearm.
Still determined to be strong, the boy doesn't agree with the adult's words. He is ready to be strong. Annoyed, he looks down at his arm as it is being tended to. His eyes follow every movement. Watching carefully as the fingers work. These are the hands which have shown him kindness. They belong to the only grown up in the world who has shown him any kindness.
The boy is all too aware that it is a cold and cruel world for orphans. The only person he has ever had was Max. The two of them had been all but forgotten for most of their little lives. Each abandoned, by some adult, to harsh realities of the world. However, the two had found some solace in each other's company. Max had found someone to look after him and protect and Seto had found someone to care for. The two clung to each other and always assumed that their paths would be inextricably linked.
Then they found that Fortune had seen fit to turn its attention towards them. They were going to be adopted by wealthy gentlemen. What's more, the two gentlemen knew each other! They would not be permanently separated! Their lives were to become fairytales. Unfortunately, their fairytale was more akin to Bluebeard than Cinderella.
They had never considered that the pendulum of Fortune swings in more than one direction. It wasn't long after they had been taken away from the dreary orphanage, that they learned that there were fates worse than being neglected. They were torn from each other and thrown into hellish existences that made them pray to be neglected. Their lives now existed like bugs under glass jars, exposed, poked, prodded, and, like a collector's prize butterflies, mounted.
However, at times we find that Fortune has smiled upon us in some small way to ease our suffering as it waits to swing in some different direction. Seto had found that there was one in his master's household who did not treat him like an object. This adult spoke to him, as you would a person, instead of some pet. He looked at Seto, and the boy felt that he saw him. When this person touches he never means to cause Seto pain. He never touches the boy not for his own pleasure or amusement
These are the first hands to show him any kindness. In the beginning the boy spoiled himself with the luxury of crying in those arms. Now that he cannot allow himself that luxury, the boy finds himself wondering about this man's motivations. Why is he so kind? For that matter, who is this man? He watches the gentle hands work and thinks about their owner. Was there some way to learn more about him without asking him directly? The man seems to keep himself hidden away and has never introduced himself to the boy formally.
In fact, this man seems to be without a name. The master only refers to him as Thief. Who was he? What does that name mean? There was no way that that could be his real name. Right? If only he could know something about this man!
"You want to know my name?" Seto jumps and his eyes widen. The man continues softly, the lightness of a laugh beginning at the edge of his words. "Will knowing my name mean that much to you?"
Blue eyes fall to the floor and the boy's cheeks grow pink as he scolds himself for showing an emotion so openly.
"Don't fret. Your face was as stony as ever. You did not betray yourself." He smiles, "More than a few creatures in this place can read minds. Be warned, though. All of them are wolves and you are one of the sheep."
The boy tries to understand the man's words. His brow furrows and he tries to look into the man's eyes. The man is intent on his work and doesn't look up. His fixes the end of the bandage but still doesn't meet the boy's gaze.
"But fear not, there is a wolf who will care for you little sheep."
The curiosity gets the better of the boy and he begin to ask, "What does that-?"
"The Master will want to see you soon, Darkling." The boy starts to open his mouth again but the man holds up his hand to silence him. "After his outburst, you know better than to keep him waiting."
With the riddle rattling around in his head the boy makes his way to the chamber door. He wants to know what it all means, what do the wolves mean, what do the sheep mean, and who is his caretaker who speaks of wolves and sheep? Questions and ideas swirl in his mind. Curiosity and imagination begin to fight their leads.
His hands rests on the handle, more and more questions form. He pulls the door open and takes step. He passes through the portal, and his mind is instantly quiet. It focuses once more on darkness.
+…+
Now the beast stood, towering over his former caregiver. He had accepted the hug he was offered but the smaller man seemed to be holding onto him with some unspoken desperation.
"When you figured it out, you wouldn't let me near you for weeks. You were so mad. Even when you were hurt, you'd march in, grab the bandages, and fix yourself. It hurt me but I knew that you felt betrayed."
Seto's bittersweet memories made him force a chuckle. "That's how children are, they say." The embrace continued and it became a bit awkward for Seto. "Ah, let's go to my study. We can catch up."
Seated on a chair opposite Seto's, the visitor looked around awkwardly. Seto tried to focus on his guest but his mind was drawn back to the visits from earlier in the evening. Yami had come to harass him but why had Max come? Why try to push him to visit his sire? Seto's face twisted as he thought of that word. He felt ill as he thought of how, even after the cruelty that he had suffered at his own sire's hands, Maximillion still wanted him to go to Yami. Just a cup of tea? Where would it end? Would be push for Seto to bring Mokuba?
"Oh, he'd never ask something like that of you!"
Pulled from his angry thoughts, Seto lashed out. "Get out of my head! You promised after that day that you would never read my mind! Apparently, this is to be an evening full of vexation and betrayal!"
The guest was stunned but quietly said, "You know that I had to break that promise many times before." Seto looked away, irritated. "It's always been to take care of you, Darkling-"
"That's no excuse, Bakura!" Seto spat. "And I'm much too old for that silly nickname!"
"Yes, forgive me…" Bakura's voice wavered, "I suppose I shouldn't have come…"
"Why are you here?" Seto snorted. "There seems to be some sort of hellish holiday causing the ghosts of my past to visit me!" Seto looked at his guest, anger still pushed him to lash out even as he looked at that sad face.
Bakura averted his eyes, "I don't really know why. I just knew that the master had paid you a visit and I thought that…" His voiced trailed off an he cleared his throat. "I see you moved since the last time I saw you. I think this place is even nicer than the last one."
Seto acknowledged the lame attempt to change the topic of conversation with a grunt. "And yet you always seem to find me."
A sad smile wavered on Bakura's lips, "We always know how to find our other family. The ones we have been Bound with will always echo in our hearts."
The anger gripping Seto began to loosen its grip. Sitting a few inches away, was another beast who was not a monster. He had cared for Seto when he was young, tending to his wounds, saving him from beatings, and even offering him comfort- even when Seto had thrown off his hands. Even after the boy had shunned him. Even now, in the face of unwarranted anger, he still had not simply walked away or lashed out. He sat quietly, his white hair still a bundle of unruly spikes. Now he looked so much smaller than he had in the boy's eyes. This was the natural order of things, adults inevitably realized that their parents were not quite so big as they had thought they were. They realized that they were not as powerful as they had thought.
Slowly, Bakura stood up and Seto started to reach out to him, to keep him from going. It was his fault that Bakura would feel that he shouldn't have come. He had to apologize. He had to explain but his hand froze as he looked at Bakura's face. He wasn't preparing to leave, he was looking at Seto's face and something was different. His eyes were wide and full of a strange light. Seto had seen this face of Bakura's before but it had been a very long time since he had seen it last. He braced himself.
"You've grown so much!" Arms were thrown around Seto's neck and his face was immersed in a wild forest of white hair. "Oh! The little boy who used to cry in my lap! My little baby who even drew me pictures! The little Darkling who gave me hugs! All gone!" Pale hands flew to Seto's cheeks and Bakura pulled away so that he could look into his eyes. He seemed to be searching for something. Possibly searching for some clue of where that boy, he seemed to have just realized was missing, had gone. His bottom lip quivered but he took a deep breath and hugged Seto's head to his chest. "Why did I let this happen to you. My sweet little boy. You became the Darkling. Now you're just…just…" Remorse had filled his words. As if he there had been anything that he could have really done.
While he was Bound to Yami there was nothing that Bakura could have done. Even those little acts of defiance to save Seto from punishment, had called for a monumental exertion of his will. What could he have really done to save Seto?
Straightening, Bakura tilted his 'son's' face up towards his. His fingers, which had cared for so many cuts, scrapes, and so much worse, began to play over the lines and features of this face. So different from all those years ago but still, there in corners and folds of skin, in a cut that never healed properly before the transformation, in those cold eyes, there were still remnants of that boy. "What things these eyes saw." Tears rose again as he looked down into those cold eyes, "I remember once you wanted to rip them out." A finger followed the line of an eyebrow down to cradle a cheek again. "You were so shaken and scarred and I just…I let them do that to you."
A tear fell onto the 'son's' cheek and he winced as if it was a blow. Sniffling quickly, Bakura wiped away the bloody tear and traced the furrowed brow with his other hand. "Oh no! Don't frown! Please smile!" Terror and agony made his voice taut.
Seto forced a smile and watched as his former guardian's shoulders relaxed. He felt the fingers on his face tracing his smiling lips. "That's much better!" But tears welled up again and Bakura's arms were thrown around his neck again. He buried his face into Seto's shoulder and sobbed.
His little boy was all grown up. Jaded and struggling to learn what love was. Always caught in a fight with himself, the world, and his sire. The sobs shook Bakura and a scream exploded from him. He felt as though something was clawing at him from within. Emotions, too raw and powerful to be contained in words, poured out of him. His strength poured out of his body as the scream tore through him. He slipped down against Seto. He cried into his 'son's' chest as he sank to his knees. Emotions poured from him but as the silence fell back over him, Bakura knew that his constant companion had not left him. The daemon of guilt still stalked his mind. "I should have saved you…"
Shocked and shaken by the emotional display, Seto did the only thing he could think to do. He wrapped an arm around his former caretaker and ran a hand over his head. "Ssh now. Just let it all go."
The red stained face lifted from his chest and the big wet eyes looked at him. "How? How can I let go of this? I failed you. You hate me- and I deserve every last bit of it. I loved you- I still do- and I let them do that to you! I just let them- I let them-" A fresh wave of tears overtook him. "I let them destroy you!"
His words beat upon the walls in Seto's mind. This deluge of emotion crashed into him and he felt himself dragged away on the resulting flood. It pulled him towards the whirlpool of memories that were too painful to be allowed to roam free in his mind. Down into that lowest point of his mind where the worst of his remembrances were chained. The memories, like hungry beasts, gnashed their teeth and howled in ecstasy.
Pupils in crystal blue eyes constricted but they saw nothing of what was before them, unwillingly transfixed, they watch the parade of awful horrors from memories long ago suppressed.