He lands hard on the sand, dry-retching on an empty stomach. Ryou's not so fortunate, throwing up his dinner, bent forward on his knees. The quiet is sudden and thick, penetrated only the background noise of rushing waves, far off and muffled.

Mai tightens her jumper around herself, and peers down at them. "Sorry," she says, belatedly. "I sometimes forget about the motion sickness."

Yugi collapses on top of his own feet, his hands planting backwards into the sand, and above him is a great expanse of sky, with hundreds of stars spattered across it, like white flecks of paint on a black canvas. His breath comes out in something of a gasp, and Ryou rolls on to his back, away from the sick.

"Where are we?" Yugi asks, tenuous, breathing heavy.

Mai turns towards the waves, and the wind blows her hair back, away from her face. "A beach, about a state over."

His head hurts; it's hard to swallow.

"Don't hold it against them," Mai says, quietly, and she sits down close to the two boys. "They're... they're good guys. They wouldn't hurt you."

Yugi tightens his hand into a fist, and Ryou sits up, indignation etched into his features.

"They're just as bad as those scientists, back there," Ryou spits.

Mai looks close to tears. "They're not, God, I swear. It's just... Tristan knows a lot, okay? He's one of the youngest agents there, but he knows so much about this subject, about all of us. Bakura, he's smart, too smart, he knows all the risks and possibilities, and his knowledge sometimes clashes with our instincts. But Yami believes in Bakura; Bakura's saved his life countless times, and they're best friends."

Mai rubs her forehead. "You two were the latest. We've never rescued someone as late as seventeen and eighteen, and they've never been in captivity for as long as eleven years. We consider Bakura different... he was never a real child. His gift allows him to cope better, I guess. But you two... it's all undetermined how you'll function, now."

"They're trying to protect the lives of their own," she continues, sand drifting through her fingers. "We had a problem once."

Ryou bites his thumbnail, chewing at the nail and the gritty remains of the sand. Yugi closes his eyes, feeling hot flashes of pain surge through his mind, and his arm has started to ache thoroughly.

"There was a boy, about eleven," Mai explains, reciting slowly, "we saved him, we loved him. He had these marks on his thigh from where they experimented on him. We tried to put it behind us all, and nurture him in a loving environment. It turns out that..." She pauses, before swallowing. "They used growth hormones and strengthening agents to enhance his ability. They wanted to use him as a weapon. The more we ignored it, the more it concentrated. He was able to control the energy around him; mainly in things like light bulbs, batteries, you get the point. The more it intensified inside him, the more distracted he became."

She watches the dark waves lap at the shore, troubled. "His power exploded in such a way I've never seen before. We were all out in public. The lights burst, the power lines snapped and flew in all directions, and everyone was thrown back with such a force that it winded whoever was within a hundred feet. Three innocent bystanders died, along with the boy. It took a day to clean up the streets, and almost a week to get the electricity functioning again."

She wipes her cheeks prematurely, even though she hadn't shed any tears, almost as if it was an involuntary reaction.

"He died?" Ryou echoes, imagining the scenario before him.

Yugi wonders what it would be like to have all that power expelled from your body. Would there be a point you could actually feel it shift? Feel it exit your soul completely and be thrown out wildly into the world?

"Tristan was close to being demoted, and Bakura felt responsible," she answers. "Bakura expects himself to always know the answers, to always see things us mere people can't." Her dry, sardonic tone mixes with the salty air.

"And Yami?" Yugi asks, watching her face.

"He mourned losing a friend," she shrugs. "I think we all had our share of grief."

They sit in silence, and with every throb and twitch, Yugi wonders what's inside him. He's had needles spanning over weeks now; would it be too late for them to do anything? He fears what's inside him, but fears more so the look of the needle and the familiar feeling of his trapped wrist.

Yugi closes his eyes, and says, "I'm sorry. I should have just let them."

Mai clutches his cold hand suddenly. "Don't you ever be sorry for being afraid."

Sitting behind and between Yugi and Mai, Ryou lets out a choked noise.

"You sound a lot like my mother," Ryou says, giving a watery smile for one, two, three seconds, before crumpling and letting Mai hug him tight.

Yugi rubs his back and rests his head on Ryou's slumped shoulder. Yugi doesn't remember his parents vividly. Not much to remember, except his father demanding they take the 'little freak' from his house while his mother cried.

Ryou has a lot of stories about his parents. His father, the bearer of gifts, his mother, the healer of all wounds, and his sister, the master of annoyance. A stab of jealousy punctures Yugi's lungs, but he keeps breathing, and keeps holding on.

Mai tells them another story, this time about beaches and sunshine, bathing suits and sand castles. She promises them they'll come here again one day, in the daytime, and they'll see what life on the outside is like. She tells them they'll come to understand fun and togetherness, and put away any doubt. Soon.

When they do return, they're teleported straight back to their room. Ryou doesn't vomit this time, but does stumble from the dizziness, aimlessly fumbling to hold on to Yugi's staggering frame. When they do come to a proper standing position, Mai smiles tiredly at them.

"I figured I'd let you decide whether or not you want to be seen right now," Mai says, but Yugi can't hear her properly; she sounds as if she's talking underwater.

"I think Yugi should have something to eat," Ryou says, and Yugi shakes his head to empty his ears. Perhaps noise distortion is an effect of teleporting. He follows them distractedly out of the room and downstairs, and the headache has subsided, to a sort of enveloping fog of discomfort.

Tèa and Yami are at the kitchen table when they enter, and Tèa says something that Yugi can only distinguish as murmurs. He misses a step, his feet going the wrong direction, and Ryou catches him before he falls.

He blinks, long and hard, before trying to move forward. He blacks out instead.

Yugi dreams that he's floating. He's floating in water, and the water is littered with shards of ice, prickly and cold. He floats nowhere; he doesn't know where he's supposed to be going, or if he's ever going to get there. The water is black, and the ice is a hazy blue, unlike the white kind that comes from his palms. He feels calm and peaceful, as if destination does not matter. Nothing matters.

He feels like he's melted into a photo of Antarctica. At the thought, the water begins to ripple, as if wrinkling together as a page would. The world shifts suddenly, and he rushes down with the water and ice, vertical. Darkness surrounds him and the cold envelopes him.

He sees a light. It grows as he falls further and further, becoming larger and brighter and ruining his darkened world. No. He doesn't want the light, it's too warm. He flaps his arms and flails his legs, but he keeps falling just as fast, toward the heat. It's too bright, too hot; the ice is melting around him-

"His eyelids moved."

Yugi feels his fingers twitch, and abruptly, he's no longer falling. He's lying on his back and there's heat all along his right arm. He opens his eyes, blurred, and faces surround him. He blinks a few times, and clears his itching throat.

"I told you we needed to take samples," Tristan lectures, "but no, I know nothing."

He's scowling, but Mai touches his arm, and says, "Thank you, Tristan."

Tristan murmurs something, and tugs on his hood.

"See you pulled through," Bakura says, grinning. Yugi looks up at him, confused, and he feels a hand remove itself from his right shoulder; it's Yami's. He wants to say something, but Yami steps behind Ryou, who looks worried beyond belief.

"That was scary," Ryou admits, quietly.

"What happened?" it doesn't even sound like his voice.

"We'll explain it when you'll remember it," Bakura chuckles.

Yugi frowns, closing his eyes sleepily. "What?"

He hears Bakura laugh, again, but that's all he makes out before he's lulled away.

He wakes up, again, this time sitting up quickly, heart pounding as if he's forgetting something. Hands grip his arms, and his eyes take a while to adjust to the dim light. It's night outside, and a soothing voice says, "Whoa, there."

Yugi feels the dizzying rush from moving too quickly, almost falling backwards again. He eyes Yami wearily, and asks, "What are you doing here?" It comes out dry.

Yami cocks as eyebrow, propping pillows behind Yugi's back. "It's my turn to see if you wake up."

Yugi tilts his head.

"You've been out for almost three days."

Yugi boggles, but the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "That would explain why I'm so thirsty." He shakes his head at himself, swallowing to wet his mouth again. "That was rude."

Yami looks on with amusement. "No need to apologize. Is water okay?"

"Yeah," Yugi gravels out, graciously. Yami disappears, and Yugi finds himself shirtless in a firm bed in a different room, one he's never been in. His elbow is wrapped in a bandage and there's a lamp beside the bed, buzzing as it works. His body feels as if it's made of water, and moving his arms and legs is an effort. He wiggles his toes, experimentally.

Yami comes back with a glass of water, and Yugi tries to accept it, but moving his arms is more of a challenge than he thought. He fights a blush but Yami doesn't laugh, instead puts the rim of the cup to Yugi's lips. He tilts it up for Yugi, and tilts it down for him to swallow. The water is warm from Yami's hand around the glass, but it goes cold in his mouth; it adds to his dizziness. They repeat the steps four times before the cup is empty, and Yami sets it down beside the bed, next to the lamp.

Yugi licks his lips before venturing to say, "What happened? I don't-... We were going to the kitchen."

Yami looks chastised and apologetic. "It seems when we took the first sample, we triggered a reaction. If I knew it would happen, I wouldn't have helped, I mean, I just..." he trails off, before shaking his head and moving forward. "Bakura could probably explain this better, but it's like... the S-CORP injected you with an experimental drug, one to raise your temperature. They were probably trying to see how your power worked when you were at normal body temperature, but it didn't work that way. Instead of heating your core temperature, it kind of just... warmed up your nerve system?"

Yugi stares back, surprised, and looks to his elbow. "And now?"

"Well, Tristan took over once you collapsed, took samples from all the marks he could, and found something to combat it. I think he saved your life."

Yami's sitting beside the bed, looking small and tired, but hopeful. The worried look that had been hanging around his brow evaporates when Yugi lends him a small smile.

"I know you're probably still angry at us," Yami concedes, and his hands are clenched together in front of himself, anxiously. "We could have done things differently. But, it's happened before. There was this boy, and-"

"Mai told me," Yugi interrupts, quietly, and his fingers twitch under the sheets.

Yami nods, solemnly. "Mai's really protective. She lost her family when she was young, so now she... she tries really hard, and if Tristan hadn't saved your life, she probably wouldn't be speaking to him at all."

Yugi swallows, hard. "It's been very strange."

Yami laugh, shaking his head a little. "Well, we don't usually have this much drama after a rescue."

Yugi tilts his head to Yami, assessing him vaguely. "What was it like when they broke you out?"

Yami wrings his hands together. "Bakura knew. I don't know how he did, but... He forced open as many doors as he could, before we met Joey and Mai. Joey had a tornado going in the middle of the room, and Mai grabbed us both and teleported. That's usually how it goes; when we got you and Ryou, it was more destructive than it should have been. Either they'd picked up on all the facilities beginning to be infiltrated, or they really wanted to keep you."

Yami sighs a little, and looks up into Yugi's eyes. In the dark, Yugi can't really make out the color of his irises. "Your headaches should go away now, or at least decrease in intensity and frequency," Yami says in a clinical tone. "You should feel better soon."

Yugi nods, mutely. He hears the soft ticking of a clock, but can't see one. He rests his head back, still supported by the pillows. He hears Yami stifle a yawn, and smiles.

"You can go to bed. I'm fine," Yugi tells him.

"Mai would skin me alive if I did," Yami says with a grin. "Besides, I doubt you're tired, and it'd get lonely if I just left you here."

Yugi looks back, unimpressed. "I don't need entertaining."

Yami bites his tongue, still smiling. "Either way, I'm still staying."

Yugi huffs, but doesn't have the strength to cross his arms. Yami seems to sense this, and smirks.

"Why can't I move my arms and legs?" Yugi grunts.

"Your muscles are recouping, nothing major," Yami assures him, and he curls his feet up on to the chair, crossing his legs. "By morning you should be able to get out of bed."

Yugi wiggles his toes determinedly. "Where is this room?"

"The guest room on the bottom floor. We decided it would be easier than trying to face the stairs."

Yugi nods. "What did I miss in the last... three days?"

"Well, Bakura's been teaching Ryou how to fish-" Yugi looks incredulous at this "- and we've had a hard time keeping all the kids out of this room, because they think you died and we're just lying to them."

"Died?"

"They're morbid kids," he says, suffocatingly. "Some of them are too young to really understand."

"Why do you do this?" Yugi asks. He experimentally moves his hand, and it sways a little, his wrist shaking.

"What do you mean?" Yami asks, gnawing on his bottom lip.

"You know. This. Stay here and help people. Why not leave and see the world?"

Yami contemplates for a long time; the hidden clock continues to tick, and Yugi keeps rolling his wrist, watching Yami's face with darkened interest. Yami tucks a lock of his bangs behind his ear, before he answers, "I guess because it's a purpose."

"Traveling would have a purpose."

"But not the same. When you travel you just drift, and I don't want to drift." He pulls up his crossed legs, and hugs them to his chest. His toes curl over the edge of the chair. "I want to help people; I want to be a part of this. Don't you?"

Yugi bites his tongue. He considers it for a moment, before replying truthfully, "Not really."

"After a while, you might. It tends to grow on people."

Yugi flexes his hand, and his fingers span out. "Can I have another glass of water?"

Yami nods, grasping the cup and leaving the room. Yugi adjusts himself, having trouble keeping balance since his limbs still refuse to co-operate. The sheets are smooth and soft, and they look a warm yellow in the dim light, stretched over his lower half. He lets out a low breath, feeling his chest deflate and his eyes close briefly.

Yami steps back into the room, shadows dancing over his face before he enters the warm glow. He lifts the glass to Yugi's mouth, but Yugi shakes his head. "Put it in my hand."

Yami looks doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Yami sets the cup on the mattress, and Yugi's twitchy fingers enclose around it. He lifts his wrist slightly, testing, and it's slow but steady. Yami hovers, and the water turns icy in the cup. Yugi lifts with his elbow, which makes the water tremble. Yugi's not used to having his muscles so exhausted, and it's a frustrating experience, having to labor just to lift a glass of water. He gets as far as lifting his forearm forty-five degrees, before his wrist gives out and the water spills all over the blankets and the glass falls, rolling off the mattress to smash on the floor.

Yami jumps back, and Yugi curses under his breath, his cheeks burning. The spilt water turns to ice on the sheets, making them hard and stiff. Yami shakes his head and says, "What were you trying to prove?" He pulls the sheet off Yugi's body, tip toeing around the glass. Yugi's sweatpants are dampened on the front.

"It's your fault I can't move!" Wounded by embarrassment.

"My fault?" Yami fires back. "You're going to blame us for what they did?"

Yugi glares at the wall, and Yami walks briskly from the room; Yugi half suspects he's left him alone for good, but he returns with a dustpan and brush in hand, and a new sheet thrown over his shoulder. He tosses the sheet on to the bed, and underneath them is another pair of sweatpants.

"I swear, we help you both, rescue you, give you a home, and you turn into a whining little-" Yami stops short, choosing to mutter maliciously under his breath as he sweeps up the glass from the floor.

"You don't have to deal with me," Yugi says through gritted teeth.

Yami makes a vague, eccentric motion with his hands, glass clattering against the sides of the dustpan. Yugi looks away sourly, irritated and wanting to do something childish, like kick his legs, but lacks the mobility. Yami finishes sweeping before banishing the dustpan to the corner of the room. Yugi pointedly doesn't look in his direction.

Yami sighs, and starts to yank down his sweatpants.

"Hey!"

"Unless you can suddenly change yourself, give me a better option."

"My pants don't matter, the cold doesn't affect me."

Yami seems to debate this, before nodding and leaving Yugi's pants where they are, and draping the warm blanket over the bed. Yugi doesn't look at him, and Yami collapses into the armchair.

But he can feel Yami's eyes on him, staring and scrutinizing. It becomes increasingly uncomfortable, and there's an itch in the back of Yugi's throat. He's too proud to talk now, though, so he steadfastly concentrates on the shadows on the walls. He wonders how long until the sunrises and the others wake up; it's starting to brighten outside, the pitch black turning to charcoal gray.

Yami's fingers tap on the arm of the lounge, and if pride wasn't holding his tongue, Yugi would snap at him to go to bed already. In a gesture of his displeasure, Yugi slumps down on the bed, and the pillows supporting his back flip up, resting on the top of his head in an undignified manner.

It takes a bit of strength to roll on to his side, facing away from Yami, and he closes his eyes to feign sleep. He listens to the tap tap of Yami's fingers and tick tock of the clock, his breathing deepening and his toes wiggling. He starts to lull, his mind going elsewhere, and warm fingertips catch him off guard.

He feels Yami rearranging the pillows, lifting his head to rest one underneath, before retreating back to the chair; the sigh of the cushion gives it away, although Yami says nothing. Yugi keeps his eyes closed, determinedly, although he doubts sleep will come.

A/N: Next chapter won't be up until next weekend. Sorry, guys. This is to make up for the Monday update, though.

Also, if you're keeping tabs on my other story, the next chapter for that should be up between the next two days as well.

Thanks for reading!