Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.
"Yami, we can't stay here." Upstairs in Donald's old room, Yuugi barely waited until Gilmour closed the door behind them before turning to Yami. "We have to get out of here, tonight, before Father sends for the constable."
"I've got ten pounds." Yuugi patted his pocket. "Oh, and I have the sovereigns Grandfather sent me for Christmas every year until he died. That's," – He thought. – "Oh, that has to be 15 more pounds there. That's twenty-five. And if you have money… - How much are train tickets?"
Surprisingly, Yami just stood there. It was as if he didn't realize the urgency of the situation. Or maybe he thought there was no way out. "It's all right," Yuugi told him. "No one on staff will stop us leaving. Gilmour's told them what happened, I'm sure. They still think you're D…" He swallowed, his brother's name still hard to say. "That helps us though, see?" he went on. "Because this way they'll want to help you…"
Yuugi's voice trailed off, as the reality of the situation sank in for him: His brother was dead, and he was encouraging the pretender who had posed as him to continue his pretense? Only the thing was, he needed Yami to lie. The servants had to believe they were helping Master Donald, because if they knew the truth they'd be rushing to get the constable faster than Father. And he couldn't – He just couldn't say goodbye to Yami.
Yuugi crept close to him. He put his arms around him, needing a response, not expecting one; Yami was in shock, wasn't he? That was the only explanation for why he just stood there, not doing anything. But once they were close, his arms came up. They were like one body with two souls now, united, the way they always should be. After a while Yami put his hand up, stroking Yuugi's hair.
"We have to get out of here," Yuugi murmured. It felt good to be in Yami's arms, it felt safe. But every minute that they stayed was one minute less to get away. It was one minute more in which they risked detection. Supposing Father was even now, telling Gilmour who Yami really was? Supposing the whole staff found out?
"But there's no train." With his ear pressed against Yami's chest, Yuugi felthis voice as well as hearing it. "You said yourself, all there was, was that 6:00 local. It's past 6:00 now." Yami sounded way less worried than he should have been. He sounded like he had all the time in the world, and only cuddling Yuugi to do with it. Yuugi pushed back against the comfort of the feeling.
"We'll stay at the inn," he said. "Or we'll have Henry drive us to the next station. What was it Pegasus called it?" – He tried for a laugh. – "Rattling along in a chicken coop on wheels? I'd rather ride in a chicken coop with you than me be locked up in one jail cell, and you in another." He leaned into Yami's embrace. He didn't want to move away. But every moment he stood there, it was like he could hear the clock ticking away one more moment of their chance to escape. "Joey would let us stay at his house for the night," he said.
"You're the one who said to trust your father." Yami just stood there. He kept stroking Yuugi's hair. He didn't sound happy, but he didn't sound worried either. "Well," he said, "I do trust him."
"After everything he said?" Yuugi pulled away, looking at him in surprise. "That you're a liar, and that hanging is too good for you and all that? Yami no! Father meant it, I could hear it in his voice."
He looked across the room, at the travel clock Donald had kept on his bedside table since he was 12: More time had gone by than he'd thought, it was almost 8:30 now.
"We have to leave," Yuugi said. "We have to leave now."
"No, Yuugi." Yami sounded old, suddenly, and tired. He pulled Yuugi close, but there was precious little comfort left in their closeness.
"Where am I supposed to take you?" he said. "Where would we go? I'm not going to make you a conman with me and Pegasus. You don't belong in that life, always going from hotel to hotel, always pretending to be someone you aren't." His hand went up to stroke Yuugi's hair, slender fingers sifting through the strands. "There has to come an end to the lies, Yuugi. I want to live the rest of my life honestly like you, not make you into a liar too."
"But Father said… We can still…"
"Shhh." Yami pulled him down onto Donald's bed next to him. He kept stroking his hair. The feeling was comforting, but sad too, in a way.
"What if this is the last night we have together," Yuugi said softly. "What if …Oh, hold me close, Yami."
Yami held him close. "It won't be," he said. "Your father's not made of stone. I'm sure he'll make a decision with his heart, not with his mind."
Yuugi kept silent. He wasn't so sure about it as Yami, but he saw that running away wasn't the answer to their troubles. He shivered. So many people were being taken away from him, it felt like: First Donald, and now Yami was about to be too.
The room grew gradually colder, the morning fire long-dead, and no one coming in to start another one as they normally did in the evenings. Perhaps Father had forbidden any of the servants to come in here. It grew darker too, neither of them wanting to let go of each other long enough to turn on a light. They sat very close on the edge of Donald's bed, the only sound the tick of the clock, and the soft sound of their breathing.