A/N: This one is directly linked to Ficlet 22, I'm Gonna Fly.

34. Transatlanticism – Death Cab for Cutie

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon…

"Can't this thing fly any faster?"

"You could always sprout wings if you'd prefer, mutt. Or just flap your arms. Or, even better, I'll give you a balloon and you just talk into it. All that hot air should get you across the ocean in no time -"

"Guys," Honda broke in. He was strapped into his seat, so he couldn't get up and forcibly prise them apart, but it was clear that if they hadn't been thousands of feet in the air inside a giant tin can, he so would've. "Cut it out. You're not helping." His eyes ticked meaningfully at Yuugi, and both Jounouchi and Otogi feel silent.

Yuugi knew they were staring at him, but he was busy crushing the life out of his armrests. His safety belt felt too tight, or maybe he was just breathing faster than normal. He'd felt on the verse of a panic attack for hours, and it showed no signs of alleviating anytime soon. He suspected it wouldn't until they landed, and then not even until they got to the hospital and someone gave them good news.

Someone put their hand over his. The touch was light and soft, and for a moment Yuugi actually believed it was Anzu's. It was the sort of gesture she'd make. She was always touching him – ruffling his hair, wiping dirt from his cheek, squeezing his shoulder to reassure him of things. A thousand tiny gestures with a million complicated meanings behind them, and one big simple meaning that kept rising above them all: I'm here for you.

Except she wasn't, and that was the whole problem.

"A-are you all right?" Ryou asked, his touch as hesitant as his tone.

Yuugi unclenched his eyes. "Sure. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I'm fine." Even the uninitiated would've understood he meant 'leave me alone'.

Ryou drew back, stung. Yuugi never snapped at anyone. Ever. It was like being bitten by a rabid sabre-toothed hamster. Yuugi knew he should say sorry, but he was too pent up. He sank back in his seat, willing Otogi's private jet to turn into Concorde so they could break the sound barrier or something. Anything to arrive faster – preferably sometime before they left. He wasn't sleepy but he closed his eyes, blocking out everything except the mantra he'd been repeating since he came home from the grocery store and Grandpa opened the door with a distraught expression.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

"Hey, uh, Yuugi?"

Yuugi's fingers dug into his armrests again. "What is it, Jounouchi?"

"She'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

I wish I was.

"Yeah, man," Honda chipped in. "Anzu's tough. She'll be all right. In fact, she'll probably be mad at us for rushing to see her when she hasn't washed her hair or something."

"Yeah, and then she'll throw hospital pillows at us."

"And kidney dishes."

"And those awful trays full of awful hospital food."

They were trying. Yuugi appreciated the attempt, especially since he knew they had to be worried as well, but somehow none of it got through the layer of anxiety coating his skin like titanium armour plating. He heard Otogi mutter, and Honda reply tersely, but he was still too wrapped up in making sure he didn't go mad before they even touched down.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay …