To say that I picked up my work quickly would be an understatement. It didn't take me very long at all to get a good idea of everything I was supposed to do, and so long as Yugi and Mr. Moto confined me to relatively simple stuff, I did really well. After the first couple days, I had a good enough concept of where everything was that I could help put things away or resort shelves without messing up too badly. Whenever I did get something wrong, Yugi would always correct me with kind words and a smile in his voice.
I fell into an almost instant rhythm, and Friday rolled around before I knew it. The good mood that working had built up over the course of the week reached its peak, and it was with an enormous smile on my face that I finally made my way into the library and relaxed back into my seat.
My stranger arrived only minutes later, and I could hear him pause after stopping in front of me.
"You look happy," he said.
I beamed back at him.
"I am."
"…your job is going well then?"
"Better than the first day. There's still stuff I have to learn, but I've got the important things down."
"Good."
"Thank you again. For encouraging me."
So maybe 'encouraging' was a bit of a euphemism. The results were the same, and anyway, my stranger apparently didn't see fit to correct me.
"Uh-huh," he said instead.
And then he started working, and I started listening to music, and the afternoon passed in beautiful silence.
…
The next few weeks flew by with a surprising ease. I grew into my job really well and developed a loose friendship with both Yugi and his grandfather. While I knew Yugi and I probably wouldn't ever be close friends, not when we were both as withdrawn as we were and certainly not when he was already so tightly grouped with Téa and Tristan and Joey, we did work really well together, and I enjoyed the time I spent with him.
Fridays remained wonderful as they had been. My stranger and I, for lack of anything substantial to talk about, spent most of our time together in silence. But that was okay. It was nice, and not forced, and I was happy with it.
Then everything became scrambled all over again.
My stranger was already waiting when I arrived that week, a little over a month after I first got my job, and I could tell he was agitated; the usual brisk tapping of his fingers on the table was a lot more forceful than usual- like he had an overabundance of pent up energy- and when I first approached, his eyes fixed on me with a strange intensity I wasn't used to. There was an edge of impatience to his gaze too, like he was waiting for me to sit down…
…which of course made me trip and stumble and take a lot longer to get settled than usual.
Only when I did finally manage to get myself seated, he just kept staring- didn't comment at all on why he was behaving so oddly.
"Um… hello," I said, and then waited, hoping he'd use the silence as an opportunity to tell me what was wrong.
He didn't. Instead he grunted. And sat there. Watching me.
I coughed awkwardly.
"I may not be able to see," I said, "but I can still tell that you're staring at me."
A slightly uncomfortable noise was made in reply, and then he made a point to start typing, although I could feel his eyes shift up to me every few seconds. I was pretty sure the gesture would have been subtle enough that a normal person wouldn't have noticed, but my senses were attuned to him almost ridiculously well. My stranger was definitely discomfited about something, no matter how sneaky he thought he was being about it.
For the longest time, I sat there in my seat, not bothering to listen to music or turn my attention elsewhere because it really, really felt like something was bound to happen at some point. I guess I figured I might as well wait around for whatever it was.
And I was right; after only a few minutes, my stranger stopped typing and pushed his laptop out of the way.
"You have an older brother," he said plainly.
Which was super random. Then again, my stranger never seemed to lead into conversations like normal people; he started in the middle, probably because he was too impatient to bother with anything except the really important stuff.
That in mind, I ignored the oddness of his statement and went along with it.
"Yeah…"
"If he were to… say something that damaged your relationship, what would you expect from him before offering forgiveness?"
"Are you… talking about you and your brother?" I asked slowly, entirely unable to wrap my head around the completely unexpected words that'd just come out of his mouth.
"What in the hell do you think, Wheeler?" he snapped uncomfortably.
In other words, yes. He was talking about him and his brother.
I blinked.
I'm not entirely sure what I'd actually expected to be the cause of my stranger's odd behavior, but something like that had certainly not been it. He talked about his personal life so little it hardly felt like he even had one.
And now he was apparently asking me to help him with some problem about a brother I didn't even know. The fact that he was talking about his brother at all, that he'd even considered bringing an issue between the two up with me… that had me worried. Because if the problem wasn't at least somewhat serious, he probably would have worked it out himself.
Very carefully, wary about giving cruddy advice and making bad use of the trust he was giving me, I said, "Generally? I would expect an apology."
I think he shook his head.
"I tried that."
He sounded so desperate that I wanted to hug him. I'd kind of guessed at it before because there'd been an odd kind of fondness in his voice the few times he'd talked about his brother, but it wasn't until I heard the hollowness in those three words that I realized just how close the two were.
It shocked me to the core. I'd never thought it in a bad way, but I'd always kind of assumed my stranger didn't care about much besides his work. It'd always seemed like that, anyway.
Except apparently that wasn't true, because even though he was being cool and distant and trying not to sound upset about it, whatever it was that was going on with his brother clearly had him genuinely worried.
I was somewhat surprised to realize how worried that made me. My stranger wasn't the type of person who showed any emotion at all. The fact that some little cracks were showing… it drove me insane. And even though it was probably an older sibling overreaction- Joey had those all the time- I really, really wanted wanted to make him feel better.
So much so that the concern in my voice was more obvious than I would have liked when I ventured, "…can I ask what it is you're sorry for?"
My enquiry was met with a sharp, defensive, "No."
I took a deep breath.
"Um. I don't know how much help I'll be then, but…" I hesitated, but his eyes were fixed on my face, obviously interested, and I found myself compelled to continue. Another deep breath, and I went on, "When we were younger, Joey… sometimes messed up at being a brother. And whenever he'd realize it, he would set aside a whole day, and we'd spend it together. I always complained because I was so mad at him, but he dragged me with him anyway… We'd always go to this special beach- our special beach- and he'd talk with me a whole bunch. Not about what he'd done wrong, but just about stuff- you know, to show he did care.
"Afterwards we went downtown or to the movies, and then we'd go to the park and lay on the grass by each other for hours, and everything would slowly become okay again. Before he dropped me off at our mother's, he'd try to explain and apologize for whatever it was he'd done, and even if I didn't forgive him entirely, it helped make me a lot less angry." I ducked my head. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... maybe you just need to spend time with your brother. Or something."
A long silence, and then: "What on earth would perfect Joey Wheeler do to get so far on your bad side?"
I bristled.
"I hardly think that's relevant," I said heatedly, because it wasn't. Not in the least.
"Of course not," he muttered bitterly. Then, slightly more resigned, "Just spending time with him won't be enough."
My annoyance faded somewhat at his somewhat softer tone; he wasn't trying to be a jerk. He was just upset.
"Maybe if you could tell me what it was you said to him…" I tried again, this time cautiously, expecting him to snap.
He didn't. He seemed to chew it over for a really long time, and then exhaled sharply before speaking, each word dragging from his lips like he had to force them all out individually.
"My brother has been going out with a girl for some months now, and he recently attempted to tell me he loved her." He snorted, like the very idea of loving someone was ridiculous. "I heavily implied that he was an idiot… and when he attempted to defend himself, I cut him off and said that he should break up with her- I said that she would do nothing but hurt him." There was enough disgust in his voice that it even made me cringe- even more so because I think it was all directed at himself. Bitterly, he went on, "…I said that caring for anyone else was nothing more than a weakness." A swallow. "And then he replied that I had no way of knowing that, given that I care for no one but myself."
"He didn't mean-"
"I know he didn't mean it," said my stranger sharply. "But I'd already lost my temper. I hate the idea of my brother having a girlfriend, and so the conversation was grating on me as it was. After he said that- after my own damn brother said that about me- I lost it. I told him my life would have been a lot fucking easier if it were true- if I could have made myself not care about him."
I cringed, but tried to stay positive.
"They was just words. I'm sure it isn't so bad…"
"No. They weren't just words." He gritted his teeth loudly enough that I could hear it, and then plodded on, almost sounding as though he were doing so against his will. "Our parents are dead- and don't you dare say 'I'm sorry,' because I will get up and leave and never come back if you do." I flinched like he'd slapped me. Apparently satisfied at the reaction, he went on, "We were adopted after some time in an orphanage, but our stepfather… he killed himself and I'm glad that he did. And I've been with my brother through all of it. I'm the only family he has. The. Only. Family."
The only family…
And he'd implied to his brother that he didn't want him- that his life would have been easier if he hadn't cared enough to watch out for him.
Oh.
For a long moment, I really honestly didn't know what to say, but I had to find something, and so after a few seconds of reaching, of searching for even a few little words that could make him feel better, I managed a soft, "You know he doesn't really believe that."
"You didn't see the look on his face when I said it. He believed it. I've already caused him more pain than he could ever forgive, and blatantly saying I regret caring for him- that was the final straw."
I shook my head. "That isn't true."
"You can't know that."
I could feel he wasn't going to accept anything I was going to say, and so reluctantly, I decided to change tactics.
"I'm going to tell you something, because I really, really think you need to hear it… But you have to promise not to tell anyone else. Please promise."
"What?"
"Please."
"Fine." I waited. Annoyed, he snapped, almost mockingly, "I promise."
And I trusted him enough, for whatever reason, to start speaking.
"When I told you about how awful my father was and about my parents' divorce, and… and all that, I didn't tell you that my mother didn't get custody of Joey. At first I thought it was a money thing, but later on I realized it was because she was scared he was already hopeless- just like our father. She'd left him behind. Willingly. And because she made it so clear she thought he wasn't any different than our dad, Joey started acting just like him."
I dropped my gaze to my lap; even though the gesture had turned meaningless, it still made me feel less exposed. My stranger might have been able to unload his problems on me without having to worry about secrets and potential embarrassment or getting hurt because I had no idea who he was, but he knew my name, knew who Joey was. I was taking a risk by saying all this, was trusting him big time, and I hated how vulnerable it made me feel.
"My mother… she tried to keep me away from Joey after that. It didn't work. And most of the time, when we saw each other, it was fine. We were fine. Then Joey started changing. He fell into really bad stuff, and at one point, when we arranged to meet outside of school, he showed up drunk. Ever since we were little, Joey took a lot of hits from our father so me and my mother didn't have to, and… I hadn't even known, I was so stupid and innocent. But he spit all that out then- about how he'd done so much to protect us, and we'd left him behind. And then he'd said it was my fault the divorce happened in the first place. That half the reason the family fell apart was because of my eyes and all the money our parents put into trying to fix them."
I took a shaky breath. "After that, he took me to our beach, spent the whole day afterwards with me to say he was sorry. And I accepted the apology. A few weeks later, he messed up again- said nasty things… and that wasn't the last time either. There were other things too- stuff I heard about Joey getting into fights and hurting our father and- and things like that. But he always kept trying to be better, always went out of his way to let me know how sorry he was for every single time he messed up. And I always forgave him. Because siblings do stupid things and say stupid things, but they forgive each other too-"
"Does your brother still treat you like that?" he cut in, voice hard. "I'll kill him-"
"No," I blurted quickly. I shook my head. "He's changed. I mean, he was still bad for a while. But then he started spending most of his evenings over at Tristan's house- one of his friends-"
"I know who Tristan Taylor is," he said irritably. But he sounded calmer.
"Right… Anyway, he got away from our dad, which helped a lot. And when he met Yugi, he straightened out all the way. But that's not the point." I forced a smile. "The point is that your brother might be mad for a while, and he's probably going to be pretty hurt too, but if you explain everything and apologize, he'll understand… If you're half as close to each other as it sounds, anyway." I remembered what else he'd said and added, "And whatever pain you think you caused him before- that stuff probably doesn't even register to him anymore… it's in the past. Not important. Siblings don't keep tally on each other's mistakes."
He chewed that over for a long moment. After a little while, I could almost feel him relax- could tell when he accepted what I said.
Then, awkwardly, instead of an actual thank you: "You feel bad about what happened with your brother."
"Huh?"
"When you were talking about how your brother took hits for you and your mother- it sounded like you regret that… like you wish you could have taken the hits instead," said my stranger lowly, like he didn't accidently want anyone to overhear him saying something so emotionally charged. "But I can guarantee your brother doesn't regret a thing. And he'd hate it if he knew you still felt guilty that he chose to protect you."
I started to argue, but something he'd said before clicked in my head. About how he was glad his stepfather had killed himself.
"When you were adopted… the man who took you in…?"
He made a terse noise of confirmation.
I took a moment to let that sink in, and then, fondly: "So you're like your brother's Joey."
"Do not take it that far," he said, but the snappishness that had been in his voice before wasn't quite so harsh anymore.
For a long while after that, neither of us said anything. The silence was weird- a lot more tense and charged than I was used to between us. Uncomfortable, almost. Border-lining awkward.
Finally, my stranger broke it. In his usual unaffected tones, he coolly said, "Your advice may not have been entirely foolish."
And suddenly things were back to normal.
"You're welcome," I said somewhat sarcastically, and then we fell back into our normal silence.
There was something different about it though- something warmer hanging in the air between us.
And when three o'clock finally rolled around, I couldn't help myself. I got out of my chair and cautiously made my way over to where my stranger was sitting, and I hugged him.
He stiffened like my touch was poisonous, and I could almost hear him get ready to snap at me, but then something clicked and he relaxed, and I was able to close my eyes and for just a second feel like I was maybe giving him some degree of comfort. It felt nice on my end, too. He was skinnier than I'd expected- although that shouldn't have been surprising, since he probably spent most of his days in an office- but warm and solid, and he smelled good- like parchment and cologne.
I let go after just a second though, because he so obviously wasn't used to people getting close to him and didn't seem entirely comfortable with it, even after he stopped bristling like an angry dog.
"What the hell, Wheeler!?"
Only he sounded more thrown off balance than anything, so I ignored the question and smiled at him.
"Good luck with your brother… if it isn't too much to ask, maybe call me sometime this week. So I know if things turn out okay."
"What?"
"Only if you have time," I corrected quickly, blushing. I realized that I was still standing close to him and took a small step back. "I mean, I'm not trying to be pushy or stick my nose in your business, but- it would make me worry less. Not that that's your problem. I just… um. Never mind."
He didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything.
Then: "I should go. My mother…"
"Of course."
"Until next week…"
"Right. "
It didn't feel like I should leave like that though. We'd both just exchanged a lot. I hadn't even told my mother about what'd happened with Joey, and I had a feeling telling me as much as he had about his brother had been super hard for him too.
Just walking away after all that felt wrong.
Only, after I thought on it a second, I realized that maybe it wasn't so wrong after all. There really wasn't anything to say. Even if he hadn't warned me against saying 'I'm sorry,' I would have avoided the words like the plague. After losing my eyesight, I'd grown to hate that phrase. Nothing else was really suitable either. Surprising and emotional and unexpected as everything he told me was, his story wasn't the kind a person could soften with a few encouraging words.
It was simply something to absorb and accept and move on from.
And so I gave him one last encouraging smile, and then I left.
…
...
Author's Note:
Crap. Really didn't expect the update to be that long, but I think I must've rewritten this chapter four or five times. At first I wasn't sure that it wasn't too early for them to say so much, and then the first two scenes I wrote were soppy and out of character, and finally, this last time around, I took a little more time and hopefully managed to keep it relatively IC. Of course, Seto Kaiba talking about his feelings at all is going to be somewhat of a stretch, but I did try to find a situation that would be at least somewhat realistic.
Also, because I'm thinking someone might comment on the fact that I turned Joey into something of a bad guy: his mother left him with a father who, while I don't think is necessarily described as a huge jerk in cannon, certainly seems to be portrayed as such most everywhere else. Being left to the dogs like that would screw a kid up, and given that, at the start of Season 0, Jonouchi goes out of his way to screw with Yugi, I figure the series agrees with that conclusion somewhat. Also, even with Serenity's blindness getting cured in the series, Joey tends to treat her like he's trying to make up for something; a lot of stretching on my part, but reasonable stretching. And as far as this story goes, that will be the worst Joey is ever portrayed; I like him as a character and actually think there's so much animosity between he and Seto because they see the things they don't like about themselves in each other. So he won't be a villain or anything.
That's all I have to say about that. I would, however, like to encourage feedback on this chapter; it's the first real, concretebonding that takes place between the two, and I really want to know what you guys think. If something should be different or you like something or you think I should slow things down after this, please let me know; otherwise I won't have any idea what changes I need to make.
One more apology for the late update, but- without making guarantees- I'll guess two weeks as a maximum for my next.
Thanks for putting up with all my rambling- if you've gotten this far- and that's everything. Until next time...
