Ch 10

…

Ryou fought with all of his might to climb those horrible old stairs, but it felt like he was trudging through waist-deep mud. His frantic will to move as quickly as he could just didn't seem to reach his feet, even with the painful urgency his heart was hammering into him. Everything around him was a blur. He managed to reach one doorway of a long hall, but there was nowhere to hide. Ryou quickly moved to another room, but no luck there either. He could hear heavy footfalls coming closer every second. Choosing a third room, Ryou rushed in and tried to flatten himself against the wall, so as not to be seen through the doorway. The heavy footsteps passed by, and he held his breath. Something crashed in another room. Ryou's chest hurt. He let his air out as quietly as he could but it was no good, he felt constricted as though he couldn't breathe. Suddenly the heavy footfalls ran by him, and then again in the other direction. Ryou grimaced in fear and pain as he struggled to get air. All of a sudden -

"Ryou?" Bakura's voice called from downstairs.

Ryou's eyes widened.

"Ryou, where are you?"

The younger teen opened his mouth but couldn't answer, as those awful boots darted by his room again. This time Ryou saw a tall, dark shadow move with it.

"Are you here?" Bakura called, sounding far away.

"I'm up here!" Ryou tried, despite his fear. His own voice sounded weak and a little wheezy.

"Ryou?" Bakura called again. He sounded as if he were moving about the lower level. Could he not hear his host?

"Bakura!" Ryou tried again.

It didn't seem so.

More crashing came from elsewhere, beginning to overpower the thief's voice, "Where are you?"

"Bakura, please!" Ryou tried again.

The shadow rushed past him then, right into the room! Ryou screamed in fright and ran to another, but there was nowhere to hide. More speedy steps right behind him, then down the hall and back again. It was playing with him. No doubt about it. Like a little dog hot on a child's clumsy heels as he ran about the family house. But this was not a harmless little game, and this was no little dog. Ryou wanted nothing to do with it.

More crashing and stomping to bury the faint hint of his Yami's voice somewhere in the distance. A familiar feeling of hopelessness quickly filled Ryou as his eyes closed and his head fell back in desperation.

"Bakuraaa!" He yelled as loud as he could. "Don't leave me-aagh!" Two strong arms tore right through the wall at his back and wrapped around him. Ryou struggled in desperate terror, but they held fast and quickly tightened their hold on him. Ryou fought like mad to get away, screaming. He couldn't break free. He was being dragged backward - into the wall! Ryou felt weak; his fingers tried to claw at the arms but it didn't help. He felt himself pulled farther back, the room was disappearing. "Nooo!" He wailed with all his might. "Help me, please! Bakura!"

"Ryou!" Bakura's voice was calling him.

"Help me!"

"Ryou, stop!"

The arms tightened on him.

"Don't let him take me, please!" Ryou cried.

"Wake up, wake up!"

The hole in the wall was the only thing he could see in front of him now as he was pulled back into darkness. And something large was quickly running toward it, laughing loud and horribly.

"No, no!" Ryou yelled in fresh panic. He continued to try and break free. "Let me go! Don't!"

"It's just me, now stop! Stop! It's me!" Bakura's voice was clearer and very close.

Ryou's screams became whimpers as he felt everything fading around him. Except for the arms. They continued to hold strong, but Ryou began to realize it was not with hostility. A familiar voice was trying to shush him, close to his ear. Ryou closed his eyes, feeling the strength leave him. He expected tears to spill over his face, but none came. How could they? He must have undoubtedly run out by now. His head sank and he attempted to hold onto the arms that held him close, but he couldn't manage it. Bakura's voice continued to try and calm him.

But there was no hope for it. Not to Ryou. He made no further sound, no attempt to get away, or any attempt at anything at all. He simply stood slouched against his Yami's chest, willing the fading sensation to keep going strong until absolutely nothing was left.

This sudden change of behavior did not go unnoticed, and Bakura craned his neck in attempt to see his incarnate's face. "Look at me," He said. Ryou made no effort. Bakura brought up one hand and turned his host's face toward him. "Look at me."

It moved easily enough but Ryou's eyes had gone dark, as though he simply wasn't there anymore.

Bakura stared at him, wondering what exactly was happening. Whatever it was, it didn't appear to be good. "Wake up," Bakura said, sounding a little disturbed. He moved his fingers against the other's skin, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him. "Ryou."

But the British boy did not attempt to focus his eyes. He leaned his head back against the thief, and that was the only response he gave.

"You're stronger than this," Bakura said in a determined whisper.

Ryou's eyes closed and his pallid lips barely moved as he mumbled, "Then why don't I feel strong?"

Bakura gave a short shake of his head and huffed in dissatisfaction. "Come with me."

One hand on Ryou's arm, the other at his waist, Bakura guided his hikari through the space that was Bakura's new domain. It was dark all around, and with Ryou's lack of attention he was all but blind to his surroundings. He felt himself being lowered down to sit on what felt like steps, and blinked himself back into focus when he heard the sloshing sounds of water.

They had come to a shallow pool within a ring of short, black marble steps. Bakura was moving a cloth back and forth beneath the surface of the dark water, where a faint orangish light began to glow. After a moment or two, he rung out the cloth and knelt down in front of Ryou.

"Be still," he ordered, and brushed Ryou's bangs back before dabbing the cloth across his forehead. Ryou's eyes rolled downward, but he did not resist. He was a little surprised to feel the cloth was hot, but then realized that must have been what the orange glow had been. After all, the Millennium Ring was remarkably powerful. Bakura could make just about anything he wanted where they were.

"You're going to stay here for a little while," Bakura said. "Going back to that room by yourself isn't what you need right now." He unfolded and refolded the cloth with a fresh side on top, then began lightly moving it along Ryou's cheeks. "You were screaming in your bed. I had to bring you here before you alarmed anyone."

Ryou heaved an exasperated sigh and stared off at nothing again. Bakura moved to dip the cloth in the water again, rung it out and settled back in his spot. He took Ryou's hand and began moving the cloth along the underside of his arm. The younger boy's flesh was cold and clammy so he knew the heat was appreciated, but beyond that he was trying to give Ryou some sort of comforting sensation to hang onto while he was caught in his hazy fit.

"This won't end," Ryou said under his breath. "He'll keep coming until he gets me."

"It was only a nightmare, none of it was real."

"They've made movies about this sort of thing," Ryou said flatly. "Where the evil comes for you in the one place no one can protect you from. The place you can't avoid forever."

Bakura paused, looking up at his host. A faint glimmer of a smirk tugged at Ryou's lips. It was unsettling. Bakura humored the idea just long enough to wonder if such a thing were possible. The psychotic mess that had caused all of this damage was thought to be gone for good once before, yet now here they were… Bakura continued moving the cloth down and over Ryou's hand and put the thought behind him. He had made sure – absolutely sure – that when he'd destroyed the dark mass in the shadow realm, nothing at all was left. There was nothing to come back from. It wasn't as if it had simply been banished again, it was obliterated. There was nothing at all. Except the memories. And that's what was causing the torture now.

Bakura wondered what to do about that. The only thing that came to mind was the Power of the Millennium Rod. Technically, Ryou's memory of it all could be erased and they could just get his body better. But no, the Spirit reasoned with himself, there was too much physical damage to make his host wonder what had happened. Even if they came up with a false story, they would have to tell him something similar enough that he would wonder and worry all over again. Not to mention there was still Marik to deal with. Marik's guilt would prevent any chance of putting all of this completely behind them forever. And trying to erase his memories as well would cause him to undoubtedly be under the impression that his evil side never left him at all. Who knows what that would stir up? ... And supposing it did worked for both Marik and Ryou, there would now be the risk of the fools in Yugi's group spilling some detail or other over the years. Bakura didn't trust any of them to keep their mouths shut forever. And there was no point in trying to use the Rod's power on all of them. A collective gap in their memory would only send them on a determined mission to seek the truth.

Bakura scowled and shook his head to himself. No, the Rod wasn't the way to go. True healing was the only way to get through this. But how in the world was he supposed to make that happen? It wasn't as if he had ever truly healed, himself. Even through the millennia. He didn't know what to do.

"Unlike the movies," he said to his host, "You have an advantage. I can protect you in your dreams."

"You couldn't find me." Ryou muttered.

"I did find you."

"The fear was still there."

"But he didn't get you, did he?"

Ryou lowered his eyes to Bakura's, who was staring back at him pointedly.

"There was fear, yes," Bakura said. "But was there pain? Did he get to you before I did?"

Ryou didn't answer, he looked like he was trying to decide whether that was a valid outlook or not.

"I couldn't breathe."

"That was most likely panic," Bakura said. "As well as the fact you were crushing your damaged lungs with the Millennium Ring."

Ryou frowned at him in puzzlement and the thief nodded to the space in the floor where they could always see into the waking world. There, Ryou's unconscious form still held onto the bundled coat as though it were his lifeline.

"I felt your turmoil through the Ring and tried to wake you, but you began to scream aloud. I brought you here before you could alert anyone in the hospital."

"Oh," Ryou said dully. "… Thanks for that."

"You do realize that your dreams can't hurt you, don't you?" Bakura asked. "It's only memories being manipulated by your subconscious and imagination -"

"Are you really trying to convince me that dreams are harmless?" Ryou interrupted. He gave his Yami a very knowing look. One that was calling him an outright hypocrite. "I've felt your own distress through many nights of 'memories and subconscious', you know."

Bakura glared at him.

Ryou wasn't fazed. "I'm not arguing with you. But think about it."

Bakura tossed his host's hand back to him. "Then what would you suggest if you're so bloody clever?"

Ryou just looked at him. "Don't be angry," he said without any enthusiasm. "As I said, I'm not arguing with you. I'm only saying your attempts at trying to convince me won't work in that regard."

"You might show more respect to the one trying to help you, instead of mocking me with that careless tone of yours," Bakura said.

Ryou sighed to himself and fought the urge to say something selfish. It would be a stupid decision. "I apologize," he said in a tired tone. "Truly."

Resigned, Bakura tossed the rag to the steps and turned to walk away. Ryou stood and walked after him listlessly. He watched as Bakura brushed his hair back in frustration before intertwining his fingers behind his neck.

They came to the space Bakura had devoted most of his time to creating. A large hall of a room complete with numerous book cases and regal drapes hanging across stone pillars and decorative archways. Basins of fire made excellent sources of light in the otherwise dark room, giving a bizarre, almost contrary warmth to the stone around them. The ceiling rose very high overhead, and might have been invisible in the dark were it not for the spectacular radiant light shining off the numerous heaps of glistening treasure all over the place. Gems and jewels of all colors lay scattered across far more gold than Ryou had ever seen. Everything from ornaments to tableware, baubles and jewelry…

Just ahead of them, on a platform with its own black marble steps, was a high-backed throne cushioned with deep red velvet. Bakura went up to it and let himself lounge in the seat, taking a book from the side table and pretending to read it. A bit pointless, they both knew, but he didn't care.

Ryou stood looking up at his counterpart. He knew he was being complicated, and that he ought to try harder. But he hadn't been lying when he said he didn't feel strong. As much of a relapse as this haze was, he didn't feel any strength to try and get out of it. He wondered if it might be some sort of unconscious coping mechanism his mind was using, similar to the way other trauma victims experience black out or complete amnesia. He didn't know. He didn't really care. But he also didn't want Bakura to be angry with him on top of everything else.

Ryou made his way over to the throne and stood with slumped shoulders just in front of the thief. Bakura ignored him for a moment, glaring at the text he wasn't reading. Ryou moved to sit beside him. It wasn't really built for two, but they were both thin enough to manage it. Ryou adjusted himself to sit partway in Bakura's lap. The Spirit closed his eyes in annoyance and snapped his book closed, then moved one arm to wrap around the other's waist. He knew Ryou well enough, especially in this place, he could read him easier than any book. His hikari was trying to convey that he appreciated Bakura's company as well as his efforts; even if they didn't really fix anything.

Bakura stared ahead as Ryou made himself comfortable and leaned against the thief's shoulder. Each kept to their own passive thoughts; the kind that were too slight to be heard vocally in the soul room, but still felt and understood.

Ryou's eyes moved over the side table, then beyond it to the area around them.

"Fit for a king, all of this," he murmured.

Bakura's hand moved absently over Ryou's back as he continued to stare off in front of him.

"Just wait until I'm sat upon the real thing," he said.

"You are aware that there are no more pharaohs, yes?" Ryou asked, fingering the collar of Bakura's shirt. "There isn't a throne for you to claim in Egypt."

"There will be once I take charge," Bakura said with certainty. "Once I rise to power, I will be known across the world for reviving the title of Pharaoh."

Ryou sighed quietly.

"I've been wondering about that… Is it really such a good idea for me to try and be friends with Yugi? He houses the spirit of your greatest enemy after all. You'll face each other one day. And then Yugi will probably think I betrayed him somehow."

Bakura gave a quiet scoff. "It makes no difference to me," he said, "I will have my revenge one day regardless of what you choose to do…" He moved his hand up to play with Ryou's hair. "That being said, if you feel that befriending those brats is the key to your recovery then take advantage of it. You know I've never been opposed to manipulation."

"… But that's just it. I don't know if I want to use manipulation."

They were silent for a moment, both considering this.

"Do whatever you want," Bakura said simply. "You're right that I will face the pharaoh again. If you're concerned about Yugi then tell him to keep his phantom friend out of it."

Ryou's eyes moved to where his hand left Bakura's shirt and met with the flesh over his collarbone. He wondered idly about the way the spirit's body moved naturally with each breath, yet there was no heart beating within him anymore. It was a surreal, even sad thing to consider. Dead, yet still alive… That's how Ryou felt too. But his heart was still beating. It beat because Bakura's had stopped beating so very long ago. Ryou involuntarily took a deep breath and nuzzled further against the Spirit's shoulder. I was you once.

Bakura heard the thought but didn't react to it. It was not the first time it had been pondered.

Ryou's voice sank to a whisper, like a child trying to keep the monsters from hearing him. "What happened to us? … That we've been fated to suffer so much in our lives? What did we do?"

Bakura continued to toy with his snow-white locks and gave a slow, solemn shake of his head.

I don't know. I never have.

More silence, longer this time, as they sat with their thoughts. Ryou felt grateful that Bakura understood him enough not to pester him about needing this closeness. He was grateful for so many things about the Spirit, all things considered. He closed his fist around the fabric beneath his fingers.

I'm scared, Yami…

… I know.

Ryou swallowed and tried to keep his emotions from running out of control again.

"Back in that house…" he said, bringing his voice just above a whisper, "Was there – was there ever a time that you felt… even the tiniest bit afraid?"

He felt Bakura's hand still behind his shoulders.

"You were angry," Ryou continued. "I know that. It goes without saying. But me… I've never known fear like that before in my whole life. And it was like he knew that. Like he was doing it on purpose and wanted me to feel that terror."

Bakura's fingers began moving again, but only slightly. Ryou released his shirt and moved his hand up to place it on Bakura's shoulder.

"I keep wanting to ask everyone when they experienced their greatest fright, but I know that it's pointless. Nothing they can say would compare to this. And I'm sure they know that, or they might have tried… But you – you were there too. I keep wondering if at some point you -" Ryou cut off, desperately wanting an answer but not sure he would get one. What answer did he want? What good would it do? He had no idea, but he wanted to truth. Somehow, somehow, it seemed that the truth…

He didn't know that either. He fought the urge to weep again.

"There was one moment," Bakura said quietly, "Just before he knocked me out, when I was unable to reach you. Time seemed strange, like it was speeding past and slowing down at the same instant. Every single second seemed like the opportunity he would take to kill you. It was sort of playing in the back of my mind over and over again. And each time it did, I felt more at a loss for control. More sure that he was going to win. Because I could do nothing to stop him. And watching it happen right in front of me without the ability to intervene…" he trailed off and looked down at his host.

Ryou raised his head to look back at him. The thief's expression was as it usually was, but it wasn't so hostile now. It was more honest, and more open.

Ryou's eyes finally seemed to brighten out of their haze, but with much sadness. He gave a short nod of understanding.

Bakura brought his other hand up and caressed Ryou's cheek, his eyes looking over the mirrored image of his own face. The face of the boy he would've become, and the one he'd nearly lost.

Ryou leaned into his hand, giving his Yami a look that he hoped conveyed how grateful he was. For everything.

Then, leaning forward and pulling Ryou closer with both hands, Bakura closed his eyes and kissed the teen's left cheekbone. As he did, Ryou heard the memory of his own voice moving through Bakura's thoughts: "That's where he hit you. I was wishing for it to be healed and not bother you anymore."

Ryou fought even harder against his urge to cry now. Bakura lingered where he was, letting his intentions flow behind his thoughts. There were no words to them, but Ryou read them all the same: Ryou had been hit there, many times. And Bakura was trying to convey his own sentiment in the only way he knew how.

Ryou closed his eyes and savored it while it lasted.

When Bakura did pull back, he looked into his hikari's eyes again. "I'm not the one you should ask advice from in this matter," he said quietly. "I have felt pure horror before, but it was not the same situation. The circumstances were different, and I was left alone for a long time afterward. And now look at me… I doubt I'm the sort of person you want to become."

It was eerie to realize just how easy that would be too. After all Bakura was him in a sense. Which meant he could've been just like Ryou before that tragedy happened.

A moment ago, Ryou had felt an overwhelming desire to throw his arms around Bakura's neck and hold him close. To keep him close, so that neither of them needed to feel alone ever again. He'd wanted to stay with him in this safe haven of their subconscious and let the world go on without them. But now that desire was gone. After hearing the truth so sincerely from the Spirit's own mouth, Ryou felt utterly alone; even as he sat in his Yami's grasp. The fact was just too clear – Bakura could not help him.

That's why, Ryou remembered, why Bakura had asked for help on his behalf from people he couldn't even stand. Because he had known all along there was nothing more he could do for his hikari. He was powerless.

Ryou did his best not to succumb to tears, but damn was it getting harder by the minute.

"I think I'm going to wake up now," Ryou whispered. "Thank you for being honest with me. And thank you for pushing me to see the others when I didn't want to."

Bakura gave a single, almost apologetic nod, and let his host move away from his hands.

…

Ryou opened his eyes and took a very shaky breath. Giving the coat in his arms one final squeeze, he moved the item to his bedside drawer and took the bear and cat from his tabletop. He laid there for a long time holding the animals close and wondering what to do. His eyes moved up to the clock: 7:37 pm. He hugged the animals tighter and went over all that had happened in the past few days.

'I was left alone for a long time afterward.' Bakura's words came back to him along with everything else. Alone… Had he been trying to make a point with that?

Ryou reached for his card and opened it up, debating his next move.

…