Carefully they shut.
Memories, feelings, thoughts, doubts, all fled his mind for a fragment of time.
Relief rapidly flooded through the small, swollen veins of his eyelids, his breathing calming itself to a point that threatened to near the limit.
For an instance it seemed he had achieved his goal; to abandon his body and bury himself in the unknown.
That instance was broken by the muffled creaking that willed his tired eyes open again, his senses still reigning over his exaggerated exhaustion.
The warm smell of soup mixed with the cool breeze that floated into the room tickled his senses, forcing him to search for his consciousness despite the fatigue in his body that screamed for sleep.
The click clack of heels, the pitter patter of rain, the song that swaying leaves outside sang endlessly; they all seemed so far away, so muffled beneath the powerful drug of exhaustion, and for a small second he surrendered to his instinct again, releasing his eyelids to where they belonged.
"Kaiba. " Came the hushed whisper, tugging at his mind the way an eager hand tugged at his arm, evaporating the sweet spell that had begun enveloping him.
Carefully they opened.
A pair of green eyes stared back at him with concern swirling slowly inside, as did menacing venom.
"I brought you soup and some juice from the cafeteria." She said, extending a plain white bowl and a large bottle of a sickly thick orange liquid towards him.
He felt his instincts kick in, warping his features into disgust at the sight of the awful meal. Not even after the restless days, the mental deterioration or the emotional fatigue would he dare go near a hospital meal.
He grunted in disapproval as his body shifted on the uncomfortable couch, fighting to gain its usual demanding posture.
She sighed in resign and slowly backed away, whispering that he hadn't changed at all.
His insides let out yet another weary sigh and he began wondering just how many more times that was to happen without his consent.
On the other side of the mahogany tainted door, the intensive care unit was as quiet as the room he was sitting in now. Staff and family members murmured quietly, careful to maintain the undisturbed peace that the entire floor carried.
A myriad of machines gave families their hope back with their constant beeping, their constant monitoring of the patients every vital sign.
An overpowering stench of chemicals gave Kaiba the brief impression that someone was trying to smother the stench of death underneath cleaning supplies, for the brightness and neatness of everything contrasted drastically with the ambient of grief that lingered bitterly in the air.
Once again his body shifted on the couch, still not accustomed to how none comforting a hospital could be, especially when one needed it the most.
Directing his gaze toward Skyelaar, he found she had positioned herself next to Mokuba on the hospital bed, a frown of worry etched on her face. With one delicate finger she stroked his forehead, brushing away the long strands of hair that streamed down towards his face.
He watched as she adjusted the blankets around his torso, watched her readjust the tubes that feed him his life, watched her comfort the child she had almost killed.
The striking of realization is similar to that of lighting, it's strong, it's life changing and almost everyone that has been through it, deeply regrets it.
Setos stomach began churning as he realized how easily Skyelaar played him, tricking him into thinking she would save Mokuba when it was her fault he was in lying in that hospital bed in the first place.
The anger welled up inside him and began traveling up his throat, inching its way into his mouth, scalding him with bitter hate along the way. He felt a furious fire igniting deep inside him, in a place he didn't recognize, a place that felt long since forgotten, a place he secretly knew was his frozen heart.
Mokubas last giggle, last words, his last smile, his boisterous joy gleaming through his eyes when he found Silver in his office, thinking his older brother had finally let down his guard, only to have his own venom spit back out in his defense, like it always had.
Was he really rotting his own life? Was he as hateful as the world depicted him to be?
Maybe Silver wasn't very far off when she confronted him, maybe the entrance she had seen in him was wider than he dared imagine.
Silver.
She drifted into his thoughts much too easily, and lately he wasn't too concerned in getting her out of them.
He liked the way she eased his stress so smoothly, so gently. He liked the way she barged in without fearing an outburst from him, the way she teased him when she stepped impossibly closer to him, hugging him with her addicting smell.
Ironically, he hated the sleep she deprived him of, hated the amount of risks he had taken just for her lately, hated the way her simple face could remain glued to his eyelids for days.
A tremble in his jaw broke him free of his thoughts, of the confining shackles that his life had slowly become when he least expected it.
As his own pupils looked for distraction in the outer world they floated towards her.
Towards death itself.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kaiba heard himself say, for it seemed his body and his mind were now to separate entities.
She shifted her gaze towards him as if she hadn't heard him correctly, or had simply heard and didn't understand.
"What do you mean?" She asked, innocence feigning its way into her voice.
"You know perfectly well what I mean." He murmured hoarsely into the room. His body igniting, taking a stand for the life he knew he had to gain back.
As he drew nearer, colder, harsher, she seemed to do the same.
Skyelaar pulled her body up to its full height, summoning all the strength she could, nearly matching Kaiba's menacing stance.
"You think I don't know you did this to him?" He spat, a trembling finger pointing at Mokuba.
"You think you can risk the life of my only brother, hurt an innocent person, turn my entire life into a living hell and I'm going to fucking love you for it?" He shrieked, no longer able to control his rage.
As her faded lips gathered themselves into a frown, he took one last step closer, hugging her closer with his poison.
Kaiba lowered his lips until they were almost swallowed by hers, his hand snaking its way around her neck at the same time a menacing whisper did into her mouth.
"You're dead wrong."
In a fragment of time his hand tightened its grip around her throat, slamming her into the wall behind her and raising her fragile body above the ground, until only her limp feet frantically wailed in the air.
As her throat desperately tried to shove a scream past the grip and into the air, her hands swung blindly and violently towards Kaiba, upon whose lips began to creep a twisted smile.
She fought harder and harder, her heart pounding upon its confines like a prisoner afraid of death, screaming, shouting with every heartbeat for help.
Finally, in a stroke of blind luck, her nail swept underneath Kaiba's eye, digging into the tender skin underneath until it was met with a small expulsion of bright crimson blood.
Instantly his eyelids clamped themselves over his eyes, a frustrated grunt emerging from his lips. As his hand lost its powerful grip, Skyelaar let out a deafening scream, a noise so pure with fear it hurt.
Kaiba's body felt like it no longer knew boundaries, taking her scream in the form of a dare, a challenge.
His hand regained its former strength, this time aided with the force of his other hand, both mercilessly closing Skyelaar's throat.
He watched as her eyes pleaded for consideration, gleamed with false repent he knew would disappear if he let her go.
His eyes took in her frightened expression, the way the corners of her lips contracted themselves in any way possible, no longer knowing what to do.
He observed the color in her face turn inhuman, unnatural.
Then it stopped.
A force much stronger than his tugged at his shoulders, at his arms and hands.
If there were desperate cries aimed at him he didn't hear them, in fact, he heard nothing at all, felt nothing at all.
Simply saw.
Saw the way his hands set Skyelaar free, only to release her to the floor below, awaiting to comfort its companion in a heap of pain.
He saw the room sway around him as he was taken away, he saw the corridors of the hospital, filled with people whose eyes were hungry for information.
He saw the lobby, the receptionists point towards the pair of glass doors, and finally the grim grey pavement below as it kissed his tear stained face.