Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh, nor do I claim rights to any of the affiliated characters.
Warnings/Notes: The warnings from chapters 1-3 will continue to apply; if you've made it this far I'm grateful to assume you can handle the ride. A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. If you ever have questions, feel free to PM me or I will discuss them at the end of the next chapter for those who don't feel comfortable making an account. Thank you for discussing chapter three amongst yourselves, I'm glad it became clearer afterwards. I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Chapter Four: Unraveled
The elder lay on his back against musky sheets, beside him the younger was on his stomach, face buried in the crook of Seto's neck. With his left hand, Seto moved to stroke the child's raven hair, hoping to stop his tremors and pacify the small mind into sleep. He could feel the gentle rhythm of breaths rising and falling in quick succession, vibrating like a heartbeat against his own chest. Every so often Mokuba would fidget restlessly, hands fluttering as they struggled to drape themselves comfortably over Seto's body, allowing for the closeness he desperately missed from home.
"Easy." The rasping voice chided, hand still gently stroking his hair, coaxing him into complacency. "I'm right here." He could feel Mokuba smile against his collarbone, muscles loosening at the sound of his brother's voice.
"Something's not right Seto." He murmured as the elder persisted to hold him close, hand sweeping waves of peace along his forehead and back through his messy hair, along his neck.
"Don't you forget little brother; I won't let anyone hurt you again." The monotone to other ears was sincere and tranquil to Mokuba, he pressed his eyelids closed, letting the sound blanket him in serenity against the ominous silence of night.
"Something happened here." He pressed once more, the haze of sleep creeping into his limbs, making them heavy and dull.
"Nonsense," the elder replied, "what happened earlier is troubling you; it's in the past now, let me worry with it."
Mokuba wanted to argue, but sleep was so tempting and so close, cradling him in a muffled barrier of dreams and reality. His brother's voice was a distant whisper propelling him into slumber, where there was no silent, unfamiliar room, no monster clothed in red to tear Seto away whenever the desire came…. When the respiration became deep and leisurely against Seto's chest, an instinct from their orphanage days surrounded him, and he began to shush tenderly until the boy was sleeping soundly against his body.
Though he had not said so for fear of troubling Mokuba, he was beginning to think that something about their room was off. The right wing of Pegasus's castle was, in and of itself, more curse than blessing. The walls were thin and unforgiving, the group separated in rooms down a hall from one another, mostly in pairs. Communicating as a whole was essentially impossible, and though they had such luxuries as decent beds and bathrooms, there was not a single window to the outside world, in their rooms or outside of them. It was as if they were in the middle of a funhouse, not truly on one side of the castle, but sandwiched somewhere in the odd dimension of decay.
The young CEO was not easily unnerved, but he hated himself for not anticipating the basic principle of divide and conquer before it was too late. He was glad to have Mokuba where he could protect him with his whole life, but being cut off from the others at this early stage left a nagging pull of fear in his gut. He sighed, trying to keep as still as possible to avoid disturbing Mokuba, who had been especially on edge since the change in accommodation. Seto didn't necessarily blame him for his uneasiness, even he felt paranoid after the charade at the dinner table, but it upset him that Mokuba's concern was genuinely not of Pegasus, but something else altogether.
He closed his eyes, feeling the goose bumps start to prickle along his arms as a sudden chill spilled through the room. "Seto please don't, I'm tired." The younger mumbled, nuzzling his head against Seto's neck and stretching his thin legs.
The elder narrowed his gaze suspiciously, "What are you on about?" He asked, hand automatically stroking Mokuba's scalp.
Giggles tickled Seto's skin, his brother's warm lips reverberating against him as he clamped his mouth shut in laughter, trying to preserve as much of sleep's weighty haze as possible. "You're rubbing my feet." He said at last, "I know they're cold but I'm ticklish there, and I'm too lazy to put your socks back on."
"Mokuba, I'm not – " A shiver tore through him before he could finish, his body shooting gracelessly upright to examine their surroundings. He moved his feet along the edge of the bed, feeling for any small creature, eyes scanning for a person or an unforeseen entry to their room.
"What's the matter?" Position disturbed, Mokuba sat up and rubbed sleepily at his eyes.
"Nothing." Seto replied dryly, willing his breaths to be even and slow, "Go back to sleep." He encouraged, taking the boy back in his arms and guiding both of their forms under the covers. The younger was too tired to think more of it, but Seto lay awake that night trying not to tremble. Opening his mouth to call Mokuba crazy, he felt the definitive contact of skin against skin, a soft, playful caress of his feet.
As Mokuba fell deeper and deeper into sleep, Seto closed his eyes to try and relax, head racing with thoughts of Pegasus's latest tricks to incite madness. In the frenzy, he thought he felt someone ruffle his hair the way his birthmother used to when he was a baby, but he could see and hear no one in the blackness of the room.
Eventually he dozed, mind whirring with pictures of age-old technology. He imagined Pegasus, the handler, sitting in a room of small television monitors linked to security cameras, watching their every paranoid movie, using some cheap form of illusion to project a woman's whispers through the walls.
At sunrise the tension of solitude was replaced by raw anxiety. "Shower and redress," the guards prompted. Each pair quarreled briefly; neither wanting to take the first shower from the other, save for Tea who was alone.
As Yugi grabbed clean clothes from the dresser, Joey waited awkwardly for the pair of goons to leave. The maid he could handle, he was a lanky, harmless looking creature, who may have been attractive if his taste ran toward men. The guards were a different story, he had expected them to give orders and leave, but it would not be the case. They stood on either side of the conjoined bathroom door, silent reminders of their employer's complete authority.
When desperation struck and he was aching to ease his nausea, he slid a yellow tri-fold wallet from the pocket of his jeans, "My sister turns fourteen next month." He began, taking her picture into his hand, "Our parents split when we were young but even still she's –"
The guard to his right held up a hand, using the other to adjust his shades, "Listen kid." He sounded strained and tired, "It's easier for everyone involved if you don't do this. No matter who you've got waitin' on ya, I've got mouths to feed. If you're asking me to pick between yours and mine, the answer is mine. Every time."
He spent the next ten minutes trying to keep busy enough to forget the conversation, but found himself wallowing, sliding a finger along soap scum to avoid turning off the water. He would face the guards, he told himself, because there was no other choice. As he dried off and dressed, the thought expanded. They would get off this damned island, he told himself, because there was no other choice. He would see Serenity, and Serenity would see him, too, no matter what he had to do.
The tiny murmured thought was becoming a roar among them, a triumphant chorus of hope that reiterated: this is not the end.
As time began to take its usual shape in digital clocks on end tables, they were ushered to the breakfast table where they realized, with great, silent dread, that their host was nowhere to be seen. Still heavily guarded, there was no way to talk amongst themselves without being overheard, making the reprieve of his presence little more than an unnerving testament of the previous night.
"Sleep well." Kaiba mocked, reaching unabashedly for the coffee pot and filling a mug.
To his left Tea shifted in her seat, letting a small groan escape her lips, "I had some weird dream." She spoke at least, relieved that Pegasus was not there to inquire further as to what she meant.
"About?" Tristan asked, settling more comfortably into his seat. Tea resisted the urge to slap him, still unnerved by the experience and unwilling to fully relive it.
"It was probably nothing." She prefaced, "I kept hearing a woman humming just above me, like she was sitting at the head of the bed. I thought at first that someone had come to clean the room, look in on me or something…but it was empty. It took a while to realize I was dreaming."
You weren't. Kaiba thought to say, ready to put Pegasus on blast for his shameless tricks, but Mokuba seemed to have forgotten the episode and he was hard pressed to trigger the memory.
"I heard it too." Yugi piped up from across the table, "I thought it was someone walking the halls."
"Everyone keep your heads." Ryou urged a bit timidly, "What we heard was probably the wind, that part of the castle's ancient anyway."
Kaiba opened his mouth to protest the dismissal of Crawford's involvement, but Croquet broke the silence before he got the chance, "Eat." The graying head of security demanded, "Now."
None of them had any appetite to face the extravagant buffet-style breakfast. To appease the nagging guards, each took bits and pieces and forced them down with milk, tea, and coffee. Even Joey and Tristan stuck with bits of toast or croissant, chasing the dryness with fruit and drink. Seto had little more than coffee, but at least split a bagel with Mokuba, while Tea took a lone apple and chewed each small bite longer than was necessary for anyone.
"Take my word for it," Croquet called from his perch beside the windows, causing nearly all of them to jump, "You don't want to make him angry this early in the morning. Eat like you know how." The boys poked around at the eggs on their plates, Mokuba and Joey taking a few bites while the others pushed them around to arrange it so it looked like they'd eaten more. "You too." He ordered Tea, who paid him little mind.
"I'm not hungry." She replied dismissively, napkin folded neatly in her lap, "I never eat much in the morning."
Croquet opened his mouth to argue but promptly clamped it shut, these brats weren't his problem. He had to draw the line somewhere, and if Pegasus wanted the nuisances under foot, he could be the one to act as keeper, "Suit yourself." He managed at last, and for several long moments they did just that, sitting in blissful stillness among their inner thoughts.
"Good morning!" Pegasus gushed as he swept casually into the room, straight and exceptionally tall as his posture always dictated, "I know you missed me terribly but try to console yourselves." He tucked himself in to the usual spot at the head of the table, "I'm here now."
He began to serve himself, paying little attention to the inner anxieties attacking him from all sides, they had been a constant force in the group since their captivity, he hadn't expected it to change in one night. "What's this?" He inquired, turning to face the guards, "Croquet, why haven't they eaten properly?"
Ask them. He thought scathingly, but bit his tongue, "I pushed them to, sir. I doubt they're feeling up to it."
The elder clicked his tongue, a flash of irritation stirring in his redwood iris, "Honestly, do you people live to see me disappointed? I told you to feed them and you've let them make their make a fool of you, you with a full array of weaponry and an army compared to their number." He took a bite of poached egg and bleu cheese, chewing tauntingly as he cast his gaze on the guests, "And what about the rest of you?" His tones had their usual satiric undertone back, "You have one job."
"W-well sir, it's like Croquet said, they're just not feeling up to it." Kyoshi sputtered, jabbing a finger at Tea before adding, "She never eats much in the morning."
"Oh is that so?" He drawled, following his employee's finger to the brunette and locking eyes with her dangerously, "Let me be frank, Kyoshi. I don't care if she tells you that eating is going to make her vomit violently for the rest of the afternoon, it's been cooked, it's been served, and she's going to eat it." Though seemingly addressing the man's incompetence, his gaze had never left her. The speech incited a challenge to test his authority, and her eyes held his own as if to do so.
"I'm not hungry." She repeated with a shrug, "I know it's not very healthy but I've never been able to make myself eat breakfast in the morning." She tried to make it a joke by admitting fault.
He was far from laughing, "Until now." He took another bite, eyes traveling from her face to her plate. That's what you think. The millennium eye glowed momentarily as he caught the passing thought, rising from his seat abruptly and jerking her from the table by her arm, "I think someone needs to take a time out." He sang, painful grip leaving marks on her shoulders as he steered her into the dining room corner.
"Listen – " Tea began, adrenaline forcing her to be bold.
He shook her violently, she closed her eyes expecting to make contact with the wall, but he pulled her back…he…pulled her back, "Mattea Rose, if you're going to throw a fit you can just stand in the corner until you decide to come to your senses. All damn day for all I care." Anger flared across his features as he slammed back into his seat, picking up a fork to resume the meal, "Everyone else eat, right now."
He met their initial hesitance with a hardened look, startling them into submission. His own hand shook as he tried to enjoy the meal, both frustrated with her stubbornness and uneasy at the thought of having shown too much of his hand. They couldn't know what he had planned…but the looks of disgust on their faces…the thoughts of abrasiveness clinging to their minds. He chewed savagely, trying to sort through the madness in his own head while thanking the gods that "Crawford" had not forced itself from his lips at the mention of her full name.
He kept envisioning the fierce cerulean gaze, eyes that nearly melted his resolve until he turned her back to him, toward the corner. So much like hers, so much like theirs could have been. It was gradual, but he could feel himself losing his grip and knew he had to pull it back.
"Since you all seem to be going through a rare period of indigestion," He paused to wipe his mouth with a napkin, "you can go back to your rooms and stay in bed until dinner."
The guards moved to collect them, a chaotic orchestra of rustling fabric and stiff bodies marching against one another, "So that's it?" The thought of further isolation, and the inability to talk collectively about the plan and its progression, had weighed on Joey so much that the words came spewing out before he could stop them, "We're not dogs, we can't just eat and sleep all day for the rest of our lives!"
Pegasus rose like canon fire across a battlefield, ruthless and deafening, "You will do exactly as I say, exactly when I tell you to, no matter how much training it takes." He turned his attention to Kemo at his back, "Leave her where she is, if she wants to eat breakfast she can sit down to it before going back to her room. If she wants to stand there until dinner is served, so be it."
"Sir what if – "
"Don't bother me with trivial things." He snapped, "If she fights, beat her, if she kicks, and screams, and bites, beat her. She is going to stand there until she learns to do as she's told." He clenched a fist to quell the heat building in his stomach.
"So we do what you want." Seto jabbed an arm into his ribs to try and quiet the blond, but he was beyond stopping now. The need to see his sister, and the chances slipping away one by one were enough to ravish the caution out of him, "Say we become fucking zombies. Sit at the table, cross our ankles, eat our breakfast. What is this supposed to lead to? Jesus Christ you're a CEO, where are you gonna hide us during corporate meetings, duelist tournaments – "
"Enough Joseph." His voice darkened in warning.
"No, I want to know. Where are you gonna tell the press we skipped off to all together in perfect harmony? Do you think they won't ask about Kaiba, Yugi? I have a family, don't you know what family is? I have a sister sitting a hospital needing me right now, do you know what that's like?" His voice was a rasp of tears and pain, he swallowed thickly, nostrils flaring as he forced himself to take deep breaths.
Beside him Seto was fighting to suppress his own anger. A man of business, he knew rising to these occasions was exactly what Pegasus wanted, pathetic pity-plays like these gave him the sense of complete and utter control. Very few things were obvious in the corporate world, but when an opponent resorted to shouting and emotional blackmail, the game was over. You might as well hand the listener his trophy.
Pegasus laughed throatily, "Little Joseph's tired, how cute." He mused, "Someone put him to bed before he throws himself on the floor in protest. Well, if he did that I suppose you could drag him off anyway." The words were alive with laughter and mockery, because he had won. It was as good as surrender. He did need a millennium item to counter these moves, all he needed was handsomely paid staff and, he liked to think, the patience of a saint.
"If you would just tell us…if we could just talk about this." Yugi had to forcefully correct himself to abide by the plan, "We could work something out. Please, if you let us go you have our word we won't say anything, you can keep the puzzle, you can…" Kaiba's icy glance over the shoulder stopped the smaller boy dead in his tracks. Cold thoughts screaming don't bargain with him.
"Oh Yugi-boy, it was never about your silly puzzle, and as sweet an offer as it is, being that you'd give me your most prized possession, you seem to forget that I already have it." Cruel laughter filled the space between them, carried on the echo of the dining hall, "Get a move on." He ordered the guards, and with that, followed on their heels to the right wing of the castle.
"I bet you'd just love to get your hands on me now." He taunted as he walked side by side Yugi and Joey, stopping at the doorway to their room as the others were prodded into their own space. "Why don't you keep going?" He reached a hand out to pat Joey's cheek, "Keep having those private conversations with yourself about tearing the eyes out of my head, blinding me won't give little Serenity her sight back, you know."
The smug look of satisfaction fell from his face when the boy had the audacity to chuckle, "I hate you." Tears welled in his eyes, his body shaking with repressed cries as he met the other's gaze in a deadlock, "I hate y-"
The right side of his face burned fiercely on impact, but he was too hysterical in the moment to fully register the pain, let alone the magnitude of what he had just said and done.
The door slammed and he fell in a heap against it, shaking and hyperventilating from the confrontation, "Joey." Yugi whispered after a long stretch of silence, "This plan is all we have, it is our only hope." He stressed, fighting his own emotions to keep the crying spell from coming, "Don't vent to him, vent to me. He's not only keeping you from Serenity, he's keep me from Grandpa and he has Tea out there all by herself and we're stuck here and he's so angry now." The thoughts were coming so fast he thought he might throw up from the dizzying rush of it all, the dungeon would've been better than this. In the dungeon they did not have to face him.
Realization made Joey a snotty, incoherent mess, "I'm sorry." He blubbered, trying to force his legs to move so that he could shove past the guards to Tea's defense. "I'm so sorry." Fawn footed and weak from exertion, he could do little more than cry loudly into his hands, mourning his sister's face and his mother's scolding, afraid he may never experience either again.
To his horror, Yugi sunk down beside him, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and let his own tears fall onto the fabric of his shirt, "I'm sorry too." He choked, "I just want to go home."
The phone sat on a glass tabletop, poolside, projecting the voices in clear, crisp quality despite being on speaker phone, "It's slow." The woman said, he could almost hear her flinch in anticipation of his reply, "But we're getting somewhere. If you were here we might me able to…"
"It's slow on my end too." He poured more wine into the glass and left the half-empty bottle beside it, "You're plenty capable of tracking this down on your own, if this is your half-hearted way of saying otherwise, I'll send someone else for the job."
"No!" She hurried exclaimed, "We have a lead, it's just these people are screwing with us, they always have to ask someone, to ask someone else to relay information, then there are restrictions because of the matter at hand. In all honesty, it'll take weeks just to verify they know what they're talking about instead of peddling false information for money –"
"That's what I hired you for." He reminded her edgily, "I don't care about the timeframe, just get it right. I wouldn't expect a simple minded New York City archaeologist to understand rules behind the forces we're dabbling in, but you damn well better treat those people with respect. The information I require is of the most delicate nature, and if you're not careful it may well be the last thing you have the misfortune of screwing up."
He disconnected the call feeling more apprehensive than before, even three glasses in. He fingered the bottle, but left it where it sat. In truth even he would prefer to be in Egypt getting the specifics, but present circumstances prevented that. He left a hand hovering over the millennium eye and spent the rest of the afternoon in silent contemplation.
"Wait for me darling," the eye flickered between the baggage of seven captives, revealing their angry, desperate thoughts. In the end his own blow was working the hardest against him, using Yugi as a ploy to gain his trust was predictable, it was the anger so many of them called 'hatred' that would be the most tedious to undo. Aside from the obvious problem child Seto Kaiba, they knew nothing of true, passionate loathing, the mask they held together in wounds could become love just as easily as it had become 'hate.'
He stood, raising a glass in toast to the notion, all he had to do was peel back the layers.
"They will all be ours in time."
Author's Musings/Ramblings (feel free to ignore): Someone please correct me if I am wrong, but I've been far too interested in the fact that the ONLY millennium item which requires the user to endure torturous pain as a rite of passage is the millennium eye. Yes, wearers deemed unworthy of the ring, or deemed evil by the scales do parish, but if a person is strong enough to possess the item, they are not subjected to pain or sacrifice of any kind.
Pegasus lost his eye permanently to take control of the millennium item, to my knowledge Yugi did not endure anything of the sort with the puzzle, nor Isis (Ishizu) with the necklace, now the ring is said to have corrupted Bakura's soul into two halves, light and dark, but it doesn't seem like that is the initial price of wielding the item, it comes with time and abuse of power.
In the event I'm not wrong about all this, it is very telling that the item with the greatest price (burden) was given to Pegasus Crawford. Just throwing that out there to the world...
