The Three Kings: Strike

Disclaimer (1): Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Studios, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.

Disclaimer (2): The San Francisco International Airport is owned by the City & County of San Francisco. Uber Technologies Inc. is founded by Travis Kalanick and Garrett Camp. Born to be Wild is written by Steppenwolf. The San Francisco Giants are owned by the San Francisco Baseball Associates LLC. The New York Yankees are owned by Yankee Global Enterprises. The Toronto Maple Leafs are owned by Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment Ltd.

Warning: Mentions of racism, sexism, biphobia, Nazis, classism, sexual situations (Bakura x Marik x Atem), accidental voyeurism, panic attacks, abuse, and asexuality denial.

Chapter 4: Reinforcements

Bakura leans against the wall in the arrivals area of San Francisco International Airport's second terminal. The board says that the flight they're waiting for has been delayed by another half hour. He sighs dramatically, looking over to where Tea and Seto are sitting down, huddling over Tea's laptop. Slightly off to the side, Atem is tapping something out on the burner phone that Duke set her up with.

"You're frowning," Bakura says.

"I am," she agrees.

"Are you going to tell me why you're frowning?"

"Possibly."

Bakura sighs, "You use short sentences when you're frustrated."

"I'm not frustrated," Atem says, looking oddly at her phone. "Who's Leo?"

Bakura's heart lurches a little in his chest, "Why do you ask?"

"Tea gave me his number so that we could figure out flights for the Jackals, but he keeps..." He almost startles when he realizes that Atem is blushing. "Here. Look."

And it's not like Bakura doesn't know that Leo's a bit of a tease - because he does. But it's still a little bit of a shock to see Leo's cheeky flirtations on Atem's phone and not his.

"Baby girl?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at Leo's nickname for her.

"Yes, well, apparently you're pretty boy, so I don't think this is a war you can win," Atem smirks at him. Bakura chuckles awkwardly.

"Yeah, he… does that," he tries to hide the fact that his face feels like it's on fire, but doesn't really think he succeeds. "You okay with it? 'Cause he'll stop if you tell him to."

"I'm…" she doesn't finish the sentence, just gestures for Bakura to return her phone. When he does, Atem aimlessly turns it in her hands for a few seconds before continuing again. "Would you be okay with it, if I was?"

"You don't need my permission to-"

"It's not that and you know it," she frowns at him. And, okay, Bakura does get where she's coming from. Relationships require communication, especially one's like theirs.

He leans back in his seat and thinks for a minute, "I'm… yeah, I'm cool with it. With Leo. And…" Bakura glances at Atem, "Are you okay with him calling me pretty boy?"

"I think so. Yes, I am," she nods.

"Oh, good," he lets out a sigh of relief.

"It's just… When I was Yuugi, I always used to be wary of people flirting with me. They always seemed to want something that I wasn't," Atem admits.

"What do you mean?"

"They… wanted someone quieter, less outspoken. Softer," she shrugs. "Or, there was one girl who asked if I knew karate like Bruce Lee - because all Asian people are apparently the same. It just grated on me after a while, so I kind of just gave up on dating white people. I mean, I don't know if Leo's white, but-"

"When I was Ryou, there was this guy, Sam. Sam Rowle. He was a classmate," Bakura almost whispers. He doesn't mind talking about Ryou all that much, but when it come to the people he'd known, it always seems to hurt more. "He came from an old family. Very powerful. Very rich. He was never all that good at arithmancy, but he got it into his head that I was because, you know… Asian. I wasn't, but it seemed like a good trade at the time. I did he homework, and he offered protection. It worked, for a while."

"Ryou…" Atem blinks. "You were Japanese? Before?"

"Half. My father was white. It was safer to remind people I was his son and not my mother's."

Atem nods while she digests that information, "It's different now, though. Being black."

And wasn't that the truth. A few weeks into his stay in San Francisco, one of the people who lived above the dry cleaners across the street from Nomad called the cops on him for trying to 'break into' his own apartment. It had taken Mai shouting at the officers and Tristan's hand on Bakura's shoulder to finally get them to leave, since they weren't going to listen to him. Bakura had learned from an early age not to trust the city guard, but even he could tell that this was something else entirely.

Bakura glances around the airport. There's a security officer in the corner that's been eying them since they walked in. And the woman two rows in front of them keeps clutching her purse every time Bakura so much as even looks her way.

"Yeah, it's different," he agrees. "Not worse, not better. Just-"

"Different," Atem finishes his sentence for him. Then, very suddenly, she snorts with laughter. "You realize that if we ever go public, the right wing is going to be so pissed off? Three coloured bisexuals in a polyamorous relationship are chosen by the gods of old to rule over humanity - they wouldn't be able to handle it. I'm a woman. You're a peasant. The King Commander was born in Iraq. None of us are Christian. And I'm not even going to get started on our hair."

Atem runs her hands through her bright red curls and chuckles. But Bakura barely notices.

"Bisexual?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude to presume," Atem apologizes. "Are you bi? I'm queer myself, but if that's not what you-"

"There's… a word for it? Liking both?" Bakura asks. His heart is pounding in his chest. She's amazing, he thinks. Atem's purple eyes dance before him, her hands are warm when they curl around his. How did this happen? What in the world convinced someone like her to fall for someone like me?

"Oh ," she breathes, understanding. "Oh, Bakura. Of course, there is."

"I just… You were either gay or you weren't, that's what I knew as Ryou. I mean, I know that everyone here knows we were all together, but maybe- I don't know. Maybe it was fine- all of it was fine... because it was just us ," he rambles, looking down at their hands. His knuckles as covered in old scars, his fingers calloused from hard work. He vaguely remembers her's being lily soft the first time he'd held them, but now Atem's hands bare the same marks as his. I love you , he wants to say. I love him, too - wherever he is.

She shakes her head, "There's so much more to sexuality, to gender, than just men or women. There's so much more to human existence than our religions and our class and the colour of our skin and fuck anyone who believes otherwise- you both taught me that. Gods know that I'll fight any backwards Nazi if given the chance."

"Thanks. Really, thank you. And… me too, if people ever give you shit," he says and presses his lips to her cheek. When he pulls away, Atem smiles and his heart skips a beat. She's so beautiful. "I think I'll stick with it, though. Bisexual," he clarifies when she raises an eyebrow. Atem hums in response and leans into his side.

They sit like that for a few more minutes before Bakura starts to laugh. Atem frowns, "What now?"

"I'm just imagining the pureblood families figuring out who we are. They love their version of the Three Kings legend."

"'Pureblood'? Oh, that's not bringing up imagery of white robes and burning crosses at all ," Atem says sarcastically. "Alright, how badly did they butcher our lives? Because the non-magic version is pretty bad, too."

"Well, for one: we're white," he pauses as she groans in annoyance. "Apparently, I'm secretly, like, your fifth cousin three times removed or something, because they couldn't have a King that was as common as dirt. In some versions, you and the King Commander are married, but you're a adulteress and having an affair with me because he's always away on campaign and you're lonely . Also, we're wizards."

"That doesn't even make sense. Wizards didn't exist back then."

"And in the paintings, you're always wearing this sopping wet white dress and have legs for days- "

"I do have nice thighs, so that's one thing they got right," she notes dryly.

"Hurray," Bakura throws his hands up and wiggles his fingers in mock celebration. "The King Commander is like, eight feet tall and jacked , which is technically true. I, however, do not have my badass scar in any painting that I'm in, which is rare - people really tried to write me out of history, now that I think about it. Oh, and apparently Seth is a total romantic."

"Seth couldn't flirt his way out of a paper bag," she laughs.

"He wrote poetry , Atem. They have actual, real-life copies."

"Oh god," she gasps, eyes wide. "Oh god, that's ridiculous. Who was he writing to?"

"Kisara ," he whispers conspiratorially. "Apparently, they got married."

"When? Why?" Atem questions. "Gods above, how? "

"According to legend, he wooed her."

Suddenly, Atem goes very, very silent. Bakura is worried. She brings a shaking hand to her lips, "Do you think… they were together when we were alive?"

Bakura blinks, grasping at the few memories that he has of Seth and Kisara's interactions. They'd been close, he'd known that much. But-

"No. There's- there's no way-" Bakura stutters.

"Is there?"

"He didn't even know we were together until he literally walked in on us- "

"He was mortified," Atem smirks.

"You walk in on your baby sister screwing two guys on a desk and see if you're not. I thought he was going to kill me and I was immortal at the time ," Bakura rolls his eyes.

"It's not like we were hiding our relationship," she shrugs.

"That's my point! There's no way that he could have been secretly dating Kisara and not have picked up on the fact that we were all together," Bakura implores.

"There's exactly zero correlation between those two statements," Atem says.

"Stop using big words."

"No."

"You're the worst."

"I bet it was love at first sight, too," Atem says with a grin that belongs more on his face than hers. "Bet they were together for longer than we were."

"The. Actual. Worst ."

"You love me anyways."

From the look on her face, Atem didn't mean to let that slip. They'd been carefully navigating around the 'L' word ever since she came back, worried that it might be too early, that they might be too incomplete. But now that it's out there, Bakura wonders why they'd thought such a thing in the first place.

"I do. Against all better judgement, I do," he says softly. Bakura leans in and tucks his face into the crook of her neck. Atem's arms wrap around him, fingers clutching the fabric of his jacket, and holds him tight. "I love you, too."

They stay like that until the plane lands.

Amane gets the letter on a dreary Thursday evening. The large barn owl hoots softly at the dinner table and sticks out it's leg towards her. She unties the letter with numb hands.

"Well?" Her father says, his voice flat and unreadable. "Open it, girl."

She glances at her mother, who offers her a small nod before going back to staring at the wall. There used to be a painting of their family hanging there, stiff and formal, barely moving at all, but now there is only a blank space. Her father is having a new one commissioned, one that won't include Ryou in it.

Amane runs her fingers over the yellow parchment, seeing Ms. A. Andrews, Third Bedroom, 46 Hawthrone Row, The Grange, Edinborough on the front. She pulled out the letter and read.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Andrews,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

There's a second piece of paper behind the letter, showing all of the things that they'd need to buy between now and the start of school. Amane swallows the lump in her throat when her father instructs her to hand it over.

"They still have the ridiculous rule about brooms," James Andrews mutters darkly, flashing her a look. "Not that you'll be going anywhere near a broom. No man wants a Quidditch player for a wife."

If Amane weren't deathly terrified of heights, she's make it her goal to become a Beater right then and there.

"Nat, you'll take her shopping. I have to finish off the chapter I'm working on. I want you back before four o'clock," he passes the list over to her mother. "Do not bring shame to our family. We've already had enough because of your brother. We don't need any more."

Amane ducks her head, hiding her tears behind her hair.

"May I be excused?" She asks, "I'm not hungry."

"You may," her father says as he uses his fork and knife to cut into his steak.

Amane controls her breathing until she closes the door of her room. She leans against it, shoving her fist in her mouth and muffling her scream. Tears run down her face. She feels like throwing up.

"If something happens, you need to disassociate yourself from me," Ryou had whispered to her all those months ago in the room just down the hall. "Enroll under mother's maiden name or go to a different school. I don't care. Just don't let them know that I'm your brother."

Too late for that, she thinks. I don't want to go. I can't- I can't do this!

Her stomach rolls and Amane manages to get to the dustbin just in time to throw up what she'd had for dinner. Her chest tightens uncomfortably as her lungs try to keep up with her racing mind. She can't breathe. Her hands shake uncontrollably.

I don't want to go.

She doesn't know how long she sits there, bent over the dustbin, rocking back and forth while she tries to force air into her lungs. But suddenly, there's a hand on her back and she's pulled into a comforting embrace.

"Amane-chan," her mother whispers, both for comfort and our of fear. If her father heard her speaking Japanese, the consequences would be dire. "Breathe with me. Breathe. It'll be okay."

No, no, no. I can't. I'm not ready. I can't-

"It's alright. Breathe with me, together. Ready? In," Natsuki takes an exaggerated breath and Amane follows suit, the lungs burning as the air hits them. "And out. Again, in… and out."

They sit there together for a long time, until Amane can feel like she can breathe again without her mother's assistance. She's sweaty, cold and shivering. Her fingers ache from where she's been gripping the edge of the dustbin so hard that her knuckles are white. She forces herself to let go and the feeling comes back into her fingers. Amane sags in relief and falls into her mother's shoulder.

"You did it. You did so well. I'm so proud of you, Amane-chan." Her mother's smile has never been wide or expressive, but it is warm and bright. Amane hasn't seen it in years. "Do you think you can move to the bed?"

She nods and stands on shaking limbs, still feeling a bit out of sorts. Amane wills her feet to move, taking one step and then another, until the mattress dips under her own weight. Natsuki moves to sit beside her and pulls her into another hug.

"If father hears you…" Amane whispers in Japanese, her voice hoarse. She's always been good at picking up languages, even during the secret, hurried lessons that her mother had given her and Ryou. Ryou had been passable, able to hold a simple conversation, but Amane is practically fluent at the age of ten.

"He won't. He left again," her mother tells her. Amane's heart lurches hopefully.

"Again? Where does he go?"

"He's looking for another rare novel," Natsuki lies. Amane wouldn't know if not for the fact that this is the same excuse that her mother has used for her father's disappearance for nearly four years now.

"I don't want to go to Hogwarts," she admits.

"I know. But your father will never allow you to go anywhere else," her mother says.

"You went to Mahoutokoro. I could, too," Amane points out, but she knows that it's useless. Mahoutokoro is a dream that she'll never be able to see.

"No, you can't. And you know why. He won't let you," her mother shakes her head. "So what are you going to do?"

She doesn't know. Her brain has only just started to work again, she doesn't need this right now. Amane hides her face in her mother's shoulder and just wants it all to be over. Except, she knows that it won't.

Tomorrow morning, she and her mother apparate over to Diagon Alley, armed with her list for school. Their first stop is Gringott's Bank, the tall white building at the end of the street that towers over all the other shops, a startling four stories. She tries not to stare at the goblin guarding the heavy bronze doors. What she does look at, though, is the engraved words on the inner silver doors.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn,

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there

Amane touches the words reverently, thinking of her brother. Ryou told her of about the small stash of stolen goods that he'd had behind the wall of his bed in the Slytherin dorm. She doesn't have many good expectations of Hogwarts, but she likes to think that one day, she might be able to find it.

"Amane, come along," her mother calls to her in English. She trots over and stands beside Natsuki in the queue.

"Next," croaked the goblin behind the desk, staring blankly at them. Natsuki hands over a tiny golden key.

"I'd like to make a withdrawal from my husband's account," she tells him, eyes flicking to the whispering couple behind them.

"Of course, Mrs. Andrews. This way," the goblin smiles in a way that Amane thinks is supposed to be polite, but she finds it more threatening than anything else. "Nurnok!"

Nurnok was short, even for a goblin, standing almost a foot and a half shorter than Amane herself. Beardless, dark skinned, and possessing incredibly long fingers, the goblin took the key and motioned for the two women to follow.

They rattled into the underground vaults in a surprisingly sturdy mining cart. Amane watched the blend of browns and blacks speed past her as they descended lower and lower into the ravine. She didn't dare look down, knowing that it would cause her knees to shake all over again.

The cart slowed to a halt in front of the Andrews' family vault. For nearly five hundred years, her father's family had kept their wealth behind these doors. It was a modest fortune, mounds of gold and silver and bronze. Aside from the protective green smoke that billowed out of the vault when Nurnok opened the door, designed to knock out anyone with a false key, there were no other protections. Her family didn't have the money or the status to afford anything more than that.

After collecting the money they needed, Natsuki carefully recorded what Amane had taken in the notebook her husband had given her - James Andrews was as controlling with his money as he was anything else. Nurnok escorted them back into the cart.

It's only as their rocketing towards the surface that Amane notices it, "You're a woman."

"Very observant, Ms. Andrews," Nurnok's grin is full of pointed teeth. "What gave it away?"

"You don't have a beard," she says.

"I do not," the goblin answers.

"You don't see a lot of lady-goblins," Amane says.

"Maybe you do, nut you just don't know it," Nurnok cackles.

"Everyone else had a beard," she points out. "You're the only lady who works at Gringotts."

Nurnok laughs outright, "The men work the front. The women work the back."

"Then why are you here with us?"

"Perhaps you just got lucky."

"I don't get lucky," Amane scowls, thinking of her father, of her brother.

Nurnok blinks and stares at her for a very long time. When the cart slows again, the tunnels around them getting lighter, the goblin reaches out and wraps her long fingers around Amane's hands.

Natsuki tenses, but does nothing. Sometimes Amane forgets that her father doesn't allow her to carry a wand unless she's in his presence.

"You didn't get lucky. I wanted to see you," Nurnok says.

"What do you want with my daughter?" Natsuki questions.

"I wanted to meet the sister of Ryou Andrews," Nurnok explains. Amane's blood runs cold. "Fate has it's eyes on you. I wanted to know why."

Amane snatches her hand back, "Don't touch me."

"The world is changing, girl. How it will change, I don't know. But you must do your part."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen to me," Nurnok grasps her shoulder roughly. "There is blood in the brick, blood in the grounds, and death sown into the very fabric of the land. But within those walls, beneath the earth, there are secrets so large that it could topple everything."

"Let go of her!" Natsuki stands, but Nurnok doesn't even react.

"The Secret Keeper, the daughter of Albion, will come for you. Help her. Trust her. Find the God beyond the Rip. Learn the Truth. The future rests on your shoulders, Ms. Andrews," Nurnok hisses, her mouth full of teeth. "Be careful."

The goblin lets her go, jumping over the edge of the cart and disappearing behind the high desks in the Gringotts' foyer.

"Are you okay?" Her mother implores, taking Amane's shoulders in her hands. Someone is trembling; it might be her, it might be Natsuki. "Did she hurt you?"

She's speaking in Japanese again. Amane nods frantically, hoping that it will get her mother speaking English again. No one can know. Her father can't know.

They rush out of Gringotts, ignoring the whispers of those waiting in line. People are staring. Amane wants to tell them all to shut up, to mind their own damn business, but her mother is with her and she can't draw attention to her. Amane's angry, utterly furious, but she keeps her head down and her clenched fists in her pocket.

They don't know anything, she thinks. Let them talk.

"We're getting you a wand. Right now," Natsuki states and tugs her towards Ollivander's .

The wand shop looks different from how she remembers it from the trip they'd taken to get Ryou his first wand. Amane doesn't really remember much of how it had looked before they'd come in, but by the time that Ryou had found a wand that didn't either explode in his hands or destroy entire sections of the back wall, there wasn't much of a shop to remember. She'd sat there for hours on end, refusing to step away from her brother's side the entire time, even with her father firmly stating that she should wait outside with her mother.

He'd beat her for that when they got home. But he couldn't have done that in front of Ollivander, so Amane took refuge in that.

Today, she's greeted by the sound of a tiny, tinkling bell and the smell of aging wood. Amane blinks up at the wall filled with thousands of narrow boxes, stacked right up to the ceiling. She traces her finger through the dust on the front desk.

"Good morning," a soft voice calls out. Amane gasps as an old man steps out of the shadows, pale eyes appearing to gaze right through her. "Ms. Andrews. And Mrs. Andrews. I'm so sorry about your loss. Young Ryou was a good child, for all the wands he destroyed."

It's… That's… Amane sees tears in her mother's eyes, tears that she doesn't allow to fall. It's the first time that anyone has actually expressed sorrow for Ryou's death. It hurts more than she'd expected it to.

"Thank you," Natsuki whispers, as if she was terrified that her husband is listening.

"No Mr. Andrews today, is there?" Mr. Ollivander raises an eyebrow, "Never liked him too much. Hornbeam and dragon heartstring, like mine. But it was always too short; I thought I'd never sell it. Hornbeam is a tricky wood, too willing to follow it's master's ideals. But you, Ms. Andrews… Let's see what surprised you have for us." He pulls out a silvery marking tape. "Which is your wand arm, my dear?"

After her measurements are taken, Ollivander passes her several wands that he rejects almost as suddenly as he puts them in her hands. There's a pile of opened boxes that is growing larger by the minute, until all of a sudden-

"Yes- yes, I think this might be it- no, not that one, but- here! A bit odd, but I think this might just be it. Ash, unicorn hair, nine inches. Pliable, yes. Give it a wave."

Amane knows it the moment that she takes it in hand. It feels like all the stories that she'd been told as a child: a sudden warmth in her fingers, the feeling of coming home. She raises it over her head and smiles as a stream of shadows streaks with gold shoot from the end. She bounces around, clutching the wand to her chest, "I did it! I did it!"

Her mother smiles down at her, whispering in Japanese, "You did, Amane-chan! It was beautiful."

"Ash and unicorn hair, quite an interesting combination," Ollivander says. "That is an unquestionably loyal wand you have there- it will never work in the hands of another. Stubborn, like it's master." He places a hand over the wand, as if he was saying goodbye, "Yes. Stubborn, but never arrogant. You will be one to watch out for, my dear."

Fate has it's eyes on you , Nurnok had said. The future rests on your shoulders . Amane swallows hard, clenching her fingers around the hilt of the wand. She doesn't know what to make of all of this. It's always been about Ryou, for as long as she remembers- Amane barely knows who she is without her brother. But now, there's all of these other people looking at her , not Ryou, and saying that she has to step up.

She doesn't know if she can do it.

They pay the seven Galleons and leave the shop. She wants to go home. She wants her brother back. She wants her father, who knows what Keith Howard did to Ryou, who frightens her mother and terrifies Amane more than she'll ever admit, to just straight up die.

She holds her wand in her hand, staring at the dark wood. Ryou's first wand lasted a whole three days before it blew up when he tried to cast his first spell. He'd been so shaken that even when Keith had taken him back to Diagon Alley and replaced it, Ryou had refused to touch it until his first class at Hogwarts. Even then, that wand had lasted all of a week, and the one after that had lasted five days. Wands had never been something permanent. They were always gone.

Like Ryou.

Except, Ollivander had promised that this one would stay, that it would never work for anyone else. Amane's lips twitch into a small smile, something that hasn't happened in so, so long.

Stubborn? She thinks, I can work with that.

Kisara- now, Cassandra Bleu, works for the Jackals. Bakura's is wearing a shit eating grin that is so wide that it's probably hurting the guy's face. Atem's expression is schooled and professional, but the glint in her eyes when she looks his way means she's laughing inside.

Seto wants to crawl under a rock and never come out. He also wants to wrap his arms around Cassandra, cling to her forever, just like they have for a hundred lifetimes.

Cassandra has no idea who she is. It shouldn't hurt, because there have been cycles where one of them didn't recover their memories until years after their meetings. Except it does, every single time.

Seto nearly has a heart attack when she walks into the arrivals zone, long silvery braid swinging behind her back. Cassandra smiled when Tea held up the sign with a poorly drawn jackal head and the caption, "Welcome to SF :)"

"Tea! It's so nice to finally meet you!" She'd said, her voice thick with a French accent. She kisses Tea on each cheek, grinning the whole time, "Leo's always talking about you. He's going to be so jealous that I got to meet you first."

"You know Leo?" Tea asks.

"We're good friends. Sometimes…" Cassandra's smile had taken on a sad tint, "Sometimes he needs someone to help him out. And-" God, it punched the air right of his lungs when she'd looked his way, "Mind introducing me to your friends?"

So here he is, shaking hands and introducing himself to his wife, to the mother of his children, to one of the great loves of his life, and Seto has to smile and keep himself from shaking while his friends find this hilarious, apparently. It kind of is, now that he thinks about it. He regrets whatever it was about the Thief King and the King Commander that convinced Atem to get a sense of humour.

"Seto Kaiba," he says. "It's good to see you. This is my sister-"

"Atem," she introduces herself, moving forwards and grasping Cassandra's hand in both of her's. "Thank you for coming. This is Bakura."

She gestures towards the Thief King, who doesn't move, just nods his head towards Cassandra and offers her a promising smirk, "Hey."

"Hi," Cassandra says right back. Then, she motions towards those who'd followed her off the plane. "These are the Jackals. Um, one second."

She turns towards the boy approaching her back. His head is shaved and there are ten different piercings on his face alone. Dark circles ring his wide eyes, his brown skin sickly pale from a lack of sun. He blinks, pupils tracking over to Cassandra and watches her hands attentively as she starts to sign.

Seto raises an eyebrow, Oh .

There's a silent conversation that completely goes over Seto's head, though he's making a note in his head that, after he brushes up on his Gobbledegook, he's going to start on ASL.

"She's introducing us to him," Atem says, because of course she knows sign language - hell, she probably knew three different dialects. What's surprising is that she's not addressing Bakura, whose fingers are twitching at his side and muttering under his breath as he follows the conversation with a little bit of difficulty. Seto's always assumed that languages weren't an easy thing for the Thief King to learn, judging by how slow his speech had been back in the day.

Perhaps it had something to do with the physical movements behind the signs or that Bakura could actually see this language in motion. Seto thinks of Joey and how he learned things by just doing them and wonders if there's something similar going on with Bakura. And if the Thief King truly had a visually-based eidetic memory like Amanda said, maybe ASL was one of the few languages that Bakura would be able to learn with some kind of ease.

"This is Strings," Cassandra says when she finishes, introducing her friend. "He's an illusionist. And these are Lumis and Umbra, they're immune-"

Seto stops listening at that point, mainly because his heart is hammering in his chest. An illusionist and a pair immune to magic . And they're all standing next to Cassandra- to Kisara. He looks at Duke out of the corner of his eye and sees the same expression. Beside him, Atem takes Bakura's hand in her's.

The Jackals are the Medjay. They've been with us the entire time.

He wants to tell Mokuba. But he can't, because his brother is on an island in the middle of the ocean, alone and terrified. Seto would like to imagine that Mokuba is fighting for his life, because it's a lot better than the alternative. He lets himself smile a little at the thought of his brother giving his captures all kinds of hell. He's probably already tried to choke one, he thinks, a little fondly.

Between Mai and Duke (who's taken over Matthew's network of questionable contacts with an ease that frightens Seto a little), they've managed to find a place for everyone to stay. Tea had been firing texts back and forth with Leo all day, trying to figure out rooming arrangements for twenty different people. She'd also managed to summon an army of Uber drivers to get them to the hotels and houses they'd all be staying at.

Seto had opened his guest room to the Jackals, and low and behold, Tea had set him up with Cassandra. He can't figure out if he's lucky or not.

He texts Joey the moment she's settled into her room and starts unpacking.

Cassandra Bleu is Kisara

It takes exactly three seconds for his phone to start singing: ~Get your motor runnin'! Get out on the highway!~

Seto snorts and answers. Joey doesn't even allow him to say hello.

"Are you okay?"

"Joey-"

"No. Shut up. You're not doing this."

"Doing what?"

The static-y sigh that Joey lets out goes on for a full three seconds, "The thing where you pretend that this isn't a big deal and that I'm 'overreacting'- which I'm not, by the way. So just answer the damn question, Seth. Are you alright?"

He… doesn't think he can answer that because he has no idea. Joey calls his name a few times to make sure he's still on the line before trying a different approach, "Do you want me to come over?"

Seto wants to say no, wants to say yes , but instead what comes out it, "She doesn't remember."

"Jesus, man. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's really not. Do you want me to come over?" Joey asks again.

I shouldn't , he thinks. Then, "Yes."

"Alright. Give me, like, five minutes. You gotta change of clothes for me?"

"There's a bag on the roof," Seto says, remembering the waterproof backpack filled with clothes that he keeps up on top of his condo for unplanned transformations.

"Good, 'cause I don't think Kisara will appreciate my naked ass, like you will," Joey chirps. "See you soon, rich boy."

He hangs up the phone before Seto can say anything. He always wants to have the last word, he thinks. Thank you. Thank you. I-

There's a large shadow that flies over top the building, indicating that Joey was quicker than anticipated. There's a large thump on the roof. Cassandra sticks her head out of the guest room door.

"Expecting someone?"

"Yes. My friend is coming over," he explains, trying not to start tapping his fingers on the glass table top. He fails miserably, but it gives him a little comfort regardless.

"I can clear out if you-" she starts, but Seto shakes his head.

"It's… It's alright," he starts, but then Joey bursts through the front door like he owns the place.

And Seto's mind kind of stalls because Cassandra walked out of her room looking stunning in a sundress and sandals while Joey is very clearly wearing Seto's old shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders and-

Seto doesn't feel attraction very often. He has to feel close enough to someone before there's anything, but Seto's always had great difficulty letting people get that close to him. There's a word for it now: demisexual - a word that he could have really needed to hear during the years he'd lived with Gozaburo. It's a comfort to know that there are people like him, that there isn't something wrong with him.

Except, of course, right now the two people that he's wanted for so long are in the room and looking utterly amazing and Seto can't really form words right now. His mind races inside his head, Joey's with Mai. Joey has a girlfriend. Cassandra could be in a relationship, you don't know, you don't know anything about her. This was a mistake, I never should have-

"Hey," Joey's smile is bright, shining like a goddamn sun. He raises his hand in greeting as he walks over to Kisara, "Joey Wheeler. Nice to meet you."

"Cassandra," she says, taking his palm in her's.

"Seriously, though. Thank you for coming out. We need all the help we can get, and from what I hear, you are a tank ."

And just like that, Joey starts talking, starts to pull the tension from the room. Within five minutes, Joey has managed to get permission for them to call her Cassie and offers her a beer from Seto's fridge. Before he knows it, the three of them are having a conversation about sport's teams. Seto supports the Giants, which Joey 'Yankees-or-Bust' Wheeler will never forgive him for. Kisara shocks them all by saying she watches a lot of hockey ("I've been Stockholm Syndromed into liking the Leafs. I'm not exactly sure how that happened.") and proceeds to explain the game because neither of them know anything about it. At some point, Mai and Haley come over and Cassie just cooes over the little girl in a way that makes Seto remember their own children from all their cycles together, but it doesn't hurt the way it used to.

He wishes Mokuba were here. He wishes Matthew were here. He misses his family so much that he shoots a text off to Atem, who drags a pouting Bakura with her. Haley is delighted at the appearance of her favourite babysitter and spends the rest of the night attached to the Thief King's hip.

"I'm sorry," Atem says at one point, when they've got a moment to themselves in the kitchen.

Seto blinks at her, "For what?"

"Early today. I was being inappropriate."

"It's…" He starts, but then sighs. "Alright, maybe I didn't like it at the time, but now… I'm alright. Really. All this, it helps." Seto offers her a smirk, "Besides, now it means that you're fair game."

"Bakura and I are-"

"Nope. For when the King Commander shows up."

It's not often that he catches Atem by surprise, so he relishes in the moment a little as her eyes widen ever so slightly.

"He…? What?"

"The Dragon Princess is here. So is the Silent Swordsman. So are some of his other lieutenants. They're part of the Jackals, Atem. So that means-"

"It might not be the case. The cycles have rarely ever matched up to our original lives-"

"Except this one, it has," Seto implores. "I bet you anything that the King Commander is Scorpion King . So when he shows up, I'm going to be insufferable ."

He means to make it teasing, but Atem doesn't really say much. She looks at the ground and clasps her hands behind her back. For a moment, he thinks that he's offended her, but then she glances upwards at him and he sees that she's trying not to smile.

"Really? " She asks, so utterly hopeful.

He nods, "Between me and the rest of our family, you're never going to want to leave the house again."

Atem stops trying to hide her grin, taking him by surprise, and launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his middle and pulling him into a hug.

"We'll get them back, Seth," she whispers. "I swear it."

"I know," and he does. "Take Cassie with you."

Atem takes a step back, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. You'll need the firepower more than I will. Take her with you." Seto doesn't like it, but it's the best decision he can make. Kisara and him have the exact same powers. It'll be like he's there with her, even though he's not.

She looks at him strangely for a moment before saying, "I'm glad you came after me, though I'm sad that I missed your reign. It was probably quite interesting."

"It lasted a bit longer than yours," he says sadly. In reality, he'd ruled for decades, while Atem had been Pharaoh for no more than two years.

"And according to legend, your line lasted for nearly a hundred years afterwards," she nudges his shoulder and pulls him back towards the living room.

"Legends say a lot of things," he chuckles.

"Yes. Because apparently, you became a poet after I died," Atem smirks. Seto stops in his tracks.

"Who told you about that?" He asks tentatively. His sister gives no answer as she walks away, throwing a look over her shoulder that Seto takes as a silent victory cry. "Damn it, it was Amanda, wasn't it? Atem!"

She laughs at him instead.

Hello again!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed for the last chapter: MathiaSweetSlaughterArkoniel, Tz342, anita15, Rita Mu, green lilah, and dragomira. You guys are awesome!

Happy New Years everyone! Hopefully the first few days are treating you alright. Sadly, all I've got to show for 2017 right now is a wrist and shoulder injury, but I'm doing better now that I'm on anti-inflammatories and not just pain killers. However, that means more time writing, so that's always a plus.

Also, please note that, regarding the conversation had in this chapter between people of colour about race and racism, that I am white and therefore writing about such topics from second-hand experience. If I've written anything that is offensive or just wrong, please tell me and I'll do my best to fix it.

Until then,

AlcatrazOutpatient