This chapter does pertain to an event in chapter 48 of Of Land and Sky, so if you are currently reading and haven't gotten that far, don't read this one.
Prompt XXII: Death
"It won't bring him back."
The words echoed in Yugi's head as the God Dragon stepped past him and refused to turn back. He was headed for the den before Yugi could even open his mouth again. He bristled faintly, overwhelmed and desperate. What was he to do now?
Atem had retreated and likely curled up again, withdrawn and sure to refuse any comfort offered. Timaeus stood frozen behind him when he glanced over his shoulder. The teal male was staring down at the bloodied ferns, the splattering of red and crushed vegetation. He stood frozen, unblinking, though he stepped closer to look at the bloodied mass of flesh that had been discarded in the fight.
Yugi turned back toward the den. He needed to see to Atem before he did anything else. He knew that much, but…
He felt sick as he stepped forward. What was he going to do? What would he do to help him? He didn't even know that there was anything he could do. He wanted more than ever to make Atem feel better, but the God Dragon would only shun him. And then what was there?
If he stopped and thought about it for more than a moment, everything was going to come crashing down. His head felt as if it might burst, hearts tight in his chest, and his wings quivered and drooped. He bristled faintly, stomach churning more than ever, and glanced back at Timaeus and back.
Atem needed him more than Yugi needed to deal with his own grief.
Right?
Wasn't that…?
He panted before he could stop himself, the breath coming out rough and anxious, and Timaeus's voice flitted over to him on the dry air. "Yugi?"
He felt like he couldn't breathe.
Everything threatened to smother him. His eyes shot toward the den, where Atem had disappeared. His hearts tightened so firmly his body trembled with tension. He couldn't think straight.
What was he supposed to do?
He opened and closed his mouth, then gasped for air again. The panting grew tenfold in volume, entire body quaking. He flicked his tongue, opened his mouth, sputtered for breath, and tried to think for even a moment longer.
Yami was…gone.
Yami was…dead.
Gone.
Dead.
Dead.
"Yugi?" Timaeus tried again. Yugi felt him nudge his shoulder, but the sensation was muffled, almost smothered as if his scales were coated in ice. He thought he might vomit, but the impulse was numb and small. He could barely remember how to draw breath for a split second, and the trembling only grew tenfold as he tried to determine a plan.
Did he help Atem?
Did he help himself?
Did he help Timaeus?
What was he supposed to…?
There wasn't a body to bury.
There was no body.
No body.
No…
He gasped for air and bristled more furiously, shaking even harder than ever. He opened his mouth, sides caving from the sheer force of trying to get air through his collapsing lungs. His wings twitched and drooped, hitting the ground and flicking the tips of his wings with dirt. His mouth was dry from the effort of breathing.
"Little one." His eyes shot open and flickered toward the God Dragon standing inches away. He was watching him with a tilted head, eyes narrowed, entire body still but for his twitching tail. Yugi panted a little harder, but the tightness in his chest seemed somehow lighter.
Atem had come back.
Atem was there and—
Yugi launched himself forward. Atem flicked his tail but didn't fight it when he licked his face. The God Dragon grimaced, visibly pained, but there was no opposition or argument. The Gandora licked him until his tongue might fall off, hearts pounding in his chest and threatening to stutter to a stop. Atem blinked and watched him, studying him with glittering golden eyes.
He looked as if he wanted to collapse at any moment, as if he might lay down and refuse to move. But the God Dragon stood almost statuesque before him, eyes sharp and boring into his face. After a moment his expression softened, but he still looked despondent and cold somehow all at once. Yugi paused licking, the impulse to pant returning but failing, and after a moment he managed to look away and draw in a single breath. He held it, but the trembling only grew that much worse. The tremors turned to hurried quaking.
Atem was visibly shaken, an uncertain glint in his eyes. He didn't know what he should do to help him, nor if he could. The feeling of shared uncertainty between them somehow warmed Yugi's limbs, hearts skipping at the concerned glint in his mate's eyes.
It almost amazed him, though he realized for certain Atem was working just hard enough to give him the support Yugi usually offered him instead. His hearts squeezed, gratitude sweeping through him in an instant, and for a moment he was overwhelmed. Atem was so sweet to try to help him, even though he seemed so awkward. Atem usually withdrew and offered comfort in softer words, though he didn't argue whenever Yugi snuggled into him or bathed him in an effort to calm himself when he was stressed. The fact that he had come back despite the fact he'd originally withdrawn meant a lot more than Yugi could manage to put into words.
He hesitated, opening and closing his mouth, and wished for a moment he could say something. He wished there were words he could offer him. He wished…
He licked his face again, then leaned forward to press gently into his shoulder. The God Dragon didn't move, supporting his extra weight with little difficulty, and Yugi managed to open his eyes halfway and raise his gaze toward Timaeus. The Wind Dragon was still looking at the mass of discarded flesh, charred and covered in dirt.
Atem blinked once, long and slow, and murmured, "Did you wish to stay here?"
Yugi couldn't properly understand the words for a long moment. Was he asking him if he wanted to stay with him? Or was he asking if he would rather leave him? Was he…suggesting he go?
But the thoughts passed. He raised his head.
Timaeus; he was talking to Timaeus.
The Wind Dragon blinked and looked over, uncertain, before mumbling, "Just a while…if you'll let me."
"Feel free." Atem was silent for a long moment, then mumbled, "I want to rest. Yugi?"
He opened and closed his mouth, a tremor crashing through him once more, and nodded slightly. "Okay," he whispered. He watched Timaeus take a seat, head lowered and eye still locked on the bundle of flesh in the scorched, bloodied spot. Atem looked as if he wanted to say something, but he stopped short and abruptly whipped around. Yugi found himself stumbling on numb paws after him, though he glanced back and felt sick to his stomach before hurried after Atem when he realized he'd paused to wait.
They went back to the den in silence, and Atem curled up with his back to him, though he did not object when Yugi curled up around him and lay his chin on his neck in an effort to seek and offer comfort.
If only he could have stopped trembling.
