Carry On

A/N: I’m one of those writers who thinks about scenes for weeks on end, and then in one sudden burst it all comes out in a marathon session of typing. I’m sorry this results in semi-slow updates. ^_^’ That, and I’ve been interviewing at temp agencies to get a job. It kills the writing spirit a bit. What am I trying to say? Thank you for waiting!

Regarding the names that will be introduced in this chapter: don’t worry too much about memorizing them. I’ll try to make it clear who is who so you don’t have to work at it. If I fail, I have a legend at the end of the chapter you can refer to.


Enjoy!


~ Ocean


Carry On
By Ocean

Chapter Ten – Family Ties

As lonely as Atemu felt before Yuugi had called home and told Jounouchi in no uncertain terms to back off and leave him alone, the isolation he felt now that Jounouchi had taken his friend’s words to heart was the last straw. He hadn’t realized that the negative attention he’d been receiving was soothing over the homesickness. He knew full well that he wasn’t alone, that Yuugi, for inexplicable reasons, enjoyed having him around and Sugoroku was warming up to him due in no small part to Sarah’s coaching, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the vacancy in his heart that resulted from a family that wanted nothing to do with him.

Honda took up the rounds when Jounouchi had flat out refused to spy on Atemu anymore. The Egyptian much preferred the blond’s company; though Jounouchi was quick with his mouth Honda carried himself with the imposing air of the gang member he had been before meeting Yuugi and Jounouchi and Atemu hated it. He wasn’t afraid of the man by any means. He was more than capable of taking care of himself and had been forced to do so on more than one occasion back home. But the mental drain of continual threats and observation was something he simply didn’t have the energy for anymore. Atemu didn’t believe he was going to last the three remaining days before Yuugi’s return.

He was sitting on the back of the couch in the living room, facing the kitchen, the phone cradled in both hands and his eyes distant with hesitation. Honda had been called away by Jounouchi’s sister to drive her to the supermarket. Sugoroku was happily overwhelmed with young customers in his game shop. He thought he had heard Gina come home only to be recruited by her father to assist until the rush was over, but he wasn’t sure. Right now, as he sat on the couch and battled with himself over what to do next was the first time he had been alone in a room for days. Oddly enough, though it was something he had wished for nightly, now that he had it the solitude only worked to sadden him further.

Steeling himself Atemu snorted against his burgeoning fear and began to dial the number he had not had the courage to call in over a year and a half.

It wasn’t until after the first ring that Atemu brought the phone to his ear, pushing the plastic painfully hard against his head. He closed his eyes and chewed nervously on his bottom lip, trying not to anticipate how his call was going to be received. He didn’t notice that the toe of his right foot was tapping against the floor.

Eventually, after several intense moments, someone answered the phone.

“Hi, Mazin,” Atemu greeted his elder brother quietly. It felt strange to speak in his native tongue again after focusing so intently on perfecting his Japanese. Silence echoed over the phone while he clicked his tongue against his teeth to loosen it. As time passed Atemu began to think that perhaps hanging up would be a good idea until his brother changed his mind.

“Atemu? Is that really you?” It sounded to Atemu like his brother restrained a joyful cheer and he allowed himself a brief smile. “Thank Allah. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead.”

“That might be a matter of debate,” Atemu said, laughing weakly at his poor attempt at an apology.

“Don’t start,” Mazin said harshly. “I know you didn’t have a choice. In fact, I’m surprised you’re calling so soon. Father just sent you that letter didn’t he?”

Atemu flinched, his heart clenching against the painful truth. His brother was always harsh with his choice of words, though this austerity didn’t necessarily extend to the emotions behind them. Atemu knew how to tell when his brother was serious, and though there was a note of concern in Mazin’s voice, there was a trace of accusation as well.

“Four months ago,” Atemu conceded.

Mazin sighed heavily into the phone, noting the defeated tone in his sibling’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he said evenly. “Life hasn’t been easy since you left. I’m not used to having my little brother away for so long.”

Atemu agreed; he’d been missing his brother too.

“What’s wrong with your voice?” Mazin asked suddenly. “It sounds weird. Where are you? Mother and father wouldn’t tell me.”

This news didn’t surprise Atemu. “I’m in Japan.”

“Japan? How in the hell did you wind up there?”

“It was as far as I could afford to go,” Atemu said.

Mazin hummed in understanding. “Well, more power to you. You always were good with languages. I guess if any of us were going to leave Egypt and succeed it would be you.”

“Succeed?”

“I told you to stop being modest, Atemu,” Mazin scolded. “You succeed in everything you do.”

“Apparently not,” Atemu grumbled, his voice bitter. Mazin cursed at his stupidity, which made Atemu feel a little better. “How’s Rana? And Yamha?” Asking after his brother’s wife and daughter appeared to be a safe change of topic. “I haven’t seen little Yamha in so long. I hope she’s taken after her mother and not you.”

Mazin laughed good-naturedly. “Yamha’s growing like a satiated kitten being spoiled by its mother. The way Rana fusses over her I’m surprised she isn’t fat.”

“It’s in a woman’s nature to fuss. Mother certainly did with us,” Atemu pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s different. Do you know how hard it is to get my wife to look at me now? If I got even half the attention my daughter does my bed wouldn’t be so-”

“Stop right there and don’t say another word. Your innocent little brother shouldn’t be subjected to such things.” Atemu smirked triumphantly at his interruption.

Mazin snorted. “You’ll understand when you get a woman.”

Neither sibling knew how to continue the conversation without instigating an argument that Atemu wasn’t willing to risk and Mazin was afraid would cause more harm. His older brother had been the only person who hadn’t vilified Atemu the moment his orientation had been exposed. He didn’t approve of his sibling’s chosen lifestyle, but he could not overcome the brotherly love and responsibility of protection that had been ingrained in him since the moment of Atemu’s birth. It had hurt him deeply when Atemu had fled the country to escape the persecution that followed his every waking moment but he had understood it. However, there was a small part of him that resented Atemu for making life as difficult as it had become since his secret was discovered. Mazin firmly believed, as his parents did, that Atemu was choosing to practice a homosexual lifestyle. Until he decided to see the error of his choice Mazin was called upon as the sole heir of the family to be responsible for the welfare of his parents and the next generation. It was an acidic role he was forced to play because of his brother’s actions.

“Why did you call Atemu?” Mazin sighed, his fatigue leaking through his voice.

Atemu thought about how best to answer this difficult question. He knew the superficial reason why he called, and why he called his brother and not his parents, but the real reason eluded him like a feather in the wind. “I miss home,” he whispered, his hand curling tightly around the phone. “I miss everyone.”

“And we miss you,” Mazin affirmed. “But you’re the only one who can change this.”

Atemu hung his head, pressing his palm into his face. He simply could not get his family to understand that homosexual was who he was, not some rebellious phase he was passing through and could change on a whim. “How’s mother?” he asked distractedly. There was no need to inquire about his father; the man was not one to forgive or understand.

“How do you think? She’s devastated. Father won’t let her speak about you and it’s tearing her apart. You think it’s easy for her to forget one of her sons?” Mazin’s anger at his brother exploded at the opening. “She cries. Every time I see her. She’s in mourning and it isn’t going to stop until you stop this foolishness and come home and marry and settle down with a family of your own. Maybe then you’ll understand what we’re going through!”

“Mazin.” Atemu nearly choked on the word, his fears that his brother would eventually reject him being proven with every bitten word that reached his ears. He was his last tie to his homeland. If Mazin was unwilling to accept him, Atemu had no hope of ever being welcomed back to Egypt. He was truly abandoned.

The tears Atemu tried to restrain made him sniff loudly and his voice crack with the strain. The pain seemed to reach his brother. “Shit,” Mazin said. “Atemu I- … I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t want to hurt you, but it’s the truth. I can’t fight father for you. I’ve already tried.” He lowered his voice in an attempt to remove its harshness and let his concern for his sibling shine through. “Stop crying little brother. Tears won’t help you.”

Atemu gulped in a breath of air to calm himself but it didn’t do any good. The depression, the loneliness and homesickness he had been repressing for so long were smothering him with their ferocity. Realizing that his life in Egypt was over was too much for him to handle. The pity in his brother’s voice only served to worsen the despair.

“Rana?”

Atemu was able to quiet himself enough to hear the distant voice of his brother calling to his wife, only to be followed by an irate grunt from Mazin. “Call me back!” Mazin demanded, and before Atemu had the chance to understand the shuffling he heard in the background a strong, deep, and altogether recognizable voice froze his him to his core.

“Don’t you dare hang up Atemu!” his father shouted at him over the phone.

Shock overtook misery; Atemu couldn’t have hung up the phone if he’d been coherent enough to think of the action.

“You have some nerve calling here.”

Atemu could hear his brother pleading for his mother to make their father calm down. His efforts were in vain of course, and Atemu’s legs began to shake as his mind shut down. His father was the last person he had expected to be talking to when he’d reached for his brother’s comfort.

“Father…”

“You better be calling to apologize.”

“I-”

“Do you know what you’re doing to your mother? Do you?! I hope you are satisfied with the shame you have brought upon your family. We’ve been shunned by everyone! You’re lucky we’ve found someone who is willing to take on our shame and marry you to get rid of it! If there is any amount of loyalty in you you will come home right this instant and free us from this humiliation!”

Hands shaking and skin drawn taut over his face in his silent grimace, Atemu’s pride was able to find a spark of resistance within his soul. “I – I can’t…” His voice was so broken it sounded foreign even to his ears.

“Then I have no son. We do not acknowledge you.” The sound of Mazin calling his name was cut off by the disgusting noise of the dial tone.

---

The last thing Gina had expected to see at the top of the stairs in the midst of her errand to retrieve refreshments was her phone bouncing across the floor into the kitchen. It startled her so much that she jumped, having to grab the stair rail to keep herself from falling. No sooner did she lament the crack that now undoubtedly ran along the length of the phone a soft but heart wrenching wail reached her ears. Turning her head towards the sound coming from the living room, she was wholly unprepared for the sight that awaited her.

Atemu looked wretched. He was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the couch, his legs bent but his knees angled outward to make room for the head that hung between them. His body was shaking and though she couldn’t see his face, Gina’s instincts recognized the sounds coming from the huddled frame as that of crying. The man’s arms were caged tightly around his head, though his wrists and fingers were completely lax, forgotten in the torrent of his anguish. He was so caught in his own prison that Atemu didn’t notice Gina walking cautiously towards him.

Gina didn’t dislike Atemu despite what others thought. How could she when he did everything she asked him to, and without the lip her own son retaliated with in his protest against the unfair expectation of responsibilities? Admittedly she didn’t know him that well, but he was a better houseguest than any of Yuugi’s previous projects had been. In fact, he went above and beyond by running errands for her and even taking upon himself the responsibility of dinner on the three nights she’d worked late at the bakery. She’d never had Egyptian food before Atemu had come to stay with them. What amazed her more than the delicious flavor of the food was that the man had cooked it himself! If only Yuugi would learn how to make more than fast food and omelets she wouldn’t have to worry about him starving when he wasn’t living at home.

In all honesty Gina felt a motherly affection towards the young man that made her son smile. It was this affection that drew her to Atemu’s side, kneeling beside him and reaching out her hand to lay on the back of his head soothingly. She didn’t expect Atemu to flinch as though he’d been punched.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, attempting to calm to situation before Atemu was able to work himself up any further. From the moment she sat down the depth of his sobs had increased, and she could see that he was on the verge of hyperventilating. “Atemu, what happened?”

Atemu shook his head, unable to look Gina in the eye. His father no longer acknowledged him! It wasn’t the same as reading the words in a letter; to hear them spoken, to hear the hatred and disappointment behind them - … his father may as well have shot him in the heart for the amount of pain he had caused. He coughed; his body’s attempt to stave off the hyperventilation that was looming ever closer on the horizon.

Biting her lip and drawing her eyebrows together in worry Gina watched Atemu implode. Her eyes left him to search the room, to try and find the reason the normally calm and demure man was hysterical on her living room floor. The image of the phone being flung into the kitchen surfaced in her memory and she clung to it. “Did someone call you?” This didn’t sound right because the phone in the game shop would have rung. Never mind the fact that she still couldn’t get Atemu’s attention. She braved placing her hand on him again, this time resting it gently on his forearm. “Did you call someone? Atemu?”

Atemu tensed, the effect causing him to appear even smaller. Alright, Gina thought, so he called someone. And whoever he called… must have said something. Something really awful. Or cruel. She couldn’t think of who Atemu might have called that would upset him so other than Yuugi, but she knew her son would never say anything that would break someone. Yuugi acted tough, but Gina knew her son. Still, she had to be sure. “Did you call Yuugi?”

The mention of Yuugi made Atemu stop shaking so violently, calming his movement into less volatile shivers. What would Yuugi think of him now? Not only was he a normal, boring foreigner from a country Yuugi could care less about, but now he was disowned, abandoned, and beyond pathetic. He shook his head against the agonizing truth that he wasn’t going to be able to stay in Yuugi’s life much longer.

Not knowing the reason behind Atemu’s denial, Gina assumed it to be in answer to her question and found herself overly relieved to confirm that her son had not turned into a brutal and heartless monster. That still left the question as to who had hurt Atemu. She didn’t have a clue where to start looking for her answer.

“He doesn’t acknowledge me.”

The whispered voice caught Gina’s attention, and for reasons she couldn’t explain she felt her blood turn cold. Those could be very dangerous words when used properly.

“Who doesn’t acknowledge you?” Gina asked in an equally soft voice. She rubbed her hand along Atemu’s arm, trying to offer comfort and support, still failing to pull Atemu from the hurt that surrounded him. “Atemu? Please, I want to help. Who hurt you?”

Finally, Atemu raised his head, but the expression on his face was one Gina had never wished to view on anyone. Confusion pulled on her features, and though she had only meant to convey her inability to understand what was bothering him Atemu must have read something else in her face because he instantly recoiled against the couch and fell on his side.

“Please I don’t want to be a disappointment to anyone else!” His voice was near a shout, his eyes red and bloodshot with tears, his skin waxen. “I can’t- I’m sorry!”

Gina gasped when Atemu fell over, ignoring the man’s previous reactions to her touch and pulling him into her arms, cradling him against his protests. Making shushing noises she comforted Atemu as a mother would an upset child, and was relieved when he finally began to give in to the relaxing motions of their rocking. He didn’t hold onto her, but he allowed himself to be held, and it was a step in the right direction. Gina tucked some of Atemu’s hair behind his ear, pushing him back far enough that she could see his face, even without him looking her in the eye.

“Atemu?”

He turned his eyes towards the couch, embarrassment evident in his gaze. “They hate me.” Gina was about to ask who he was talking about when Atemu anticipated her question. “My family. My parents. They… they ha-” Atemu forced himself to swallow past the lump in his throat. If he didn’t say this out loud now he would never be able to and it would stay inside and eat at his heart and dissolve his soul until he simply stopped caring, and that wasn’t something he ever wanted to do.

Gina was stunned. “How could your parents hate you?” The thought of a mother hating her own child disgusted her. She couldn’t fathom it. “I’m sure they didn’t-”

“He said that he no longer acknowledges me.”

Gina stared at Atemu as he kept his eyes purposefully averted from her, though he did look at her briefly and nodded at the question he saw in her eyes. “But why?!” she cried, unable to comprehend the horror Atemu was going through. A bitter laugh was her answer.

“I’m gay,” Atemu said matter-of-factly. “Is there no greater sin?”

“Ridiculous.”

The casualness of the comment surprised Atemu and drew his attention to Gina. Was she upset on his behalf? The idea utterly fascinated him, and for a moment he found himself forgetting his own pain in his desire to help her. “Hey, it’s alright. This isn’t directed at you.”

“How could they?” Gina spat, not hearing Atemu’s words. “You don’t just abandon your child because they’re different! You don’t do that! It doesn’t matter what they do you just don’t!”

Atemu bit his lip, trying not to laugh at Gina’s outburst. Here was this small, petite, but battle-ready woman leading the charge of his defense against an unseen foe and for a man she barely knew who held no consequence. It was so endearing that he couldn’t hold back and he laughed outright.

Gina was dumbfounded by the sudden shift in moods, watching Atemu carefully as he released some of his tension with laughter that stemmed from his gut and shook his shoulders with its force. After several long moments the amusement died down and Atemu’s solemnity returned, though not as severe as before.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, rubbing his hands over his face to calm himself. “I already knew all of this. But it’s so different to hear it voiced rather than to read it in a letter. I wasn’t expecting it to hit me this hard.”

There was a lot that Gina could say, but they sounded like empty platitudes even in her ears. By the way that Atemu was composing himself she could tell that he had his own way of dealing with stress; much like her son’s it was to internalize it and put on a brave face. She had the impression that Atemu was much stronger than he let on. He’d have to be to put up with her son’s friends challenging him at every opportunity. Sighing, Gina placed both hands on Atemu’s shoulders and waited until the man looked at her.

“You know Atemu,” she began, releasing him and standing. “Family is a relative thing. Maybe… well, there is no rule that says you only get one family.” She looked at him, watching her curiously, and couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips. “Just wait until Yuugi comes home. You’ll see what I mean. If I know my son, and I do, he’ll explain it to you.”

Satisfied with the dawning recognition on Atemu’s face, Gina gathered a couple of drinks from the refrigerator and headed back down the stairs to the store, adding a parting comment on her way.

“You are welcome here, Atemu. As long as you like.”

She didn’t see the shock on Atemu’s face, but she didn’t need to. She knew in her heart that was the one thing the young man longed to hear.

---

She eyed her opponents over the rim of her cards, watching each man intently, looking for any clues that would tell her what they were thinking. Both men had their expressions carefully guarded; she wasn’t going to learn anything from them. It was going to rely on skill alone. Drawing in a deep breath between her teeth she steadied herself, reached forward, and drew a card from the pile.

“Gin!”

Sarah grinned madly as she collected her winnings – a pile of poker chips that served as a visual reminder of how many points she had caught her opponents with – relishing in the complaints that where being issued around the table. She was on a role tonight and had no qualms about rubbing it in Atemu’s and Sugoroku’s faces.

“Card shark,” Sugoroku quipped as he handed Gina twenty-five chips. He leaned towards Atemu and whispered conspiratorially, “I believe it’s time you and I called a truce and joined forces. It’s the only way to stop the enemy.”

“Agreed,” Atemu said, tossing ten chips across the table to Gina. “Where did you learn to play?”

“My family always played cards at night. We didn’t have a T.V. back then.” Gina gathered the cards and pulled them into a pile to begin shuffling. “I could never beat my father though. I’m certain the man cheated.” She laughed when Sugoroku rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it sounds better than me losing all the time doesn’t it?”

“I don’t believe a word you’re saying dear.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t know he’s letting us win?” Gina said, motioning towards Atemu, who looked affronted at the accusation. “Isn’t that right dear?”

“Hardly,” Atemu snorted, picking up the cards Gina dealt to him. “My pride is thoroughly wounded here.”

“You’re distracted,” Sugoroku commented, perusing his own cards. This hand wasn’t all that much better than his last. “It’s the same thing.”

Atemu averted his gaze to the floor and lowered his hand, careful not to expose his cards. Distracted was the polite way of saying he hadn’t been paying much attention to anything since he called his brother two days ago. He had buried his emotions pretty efficiently the night before and been able to return to himself, but apparently he hadn’t done as good a job as he’d thought. Of course, assuming that he was distracted about his family was not an entirely correct postulation.

Sugoroku and Sarah exchanged knowing glances. Gina had told them of Atemu’s phone call; Atemu filled in some of the relevant details later that evening. He didn’t explain everything, but they knew they were now his only semblance of family. It was a role Sugoroku and Sarah had decided would be delightful to play.

“I’m sorry,” Atemu said quietly.

“No need,” Sugoroku said, taking hold of Atemu’s wrist and raising it back into position so the next game could begin. “It’s only been a couple of days. No one expects you to be Superman.”

Atemu shuddered at the image. “Me in tights. Not a good thing.” He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to further demonstrate how distasteful the idea was to him.

Both Sarah and Sugoroku recognized the humor as an attempt to dodge the issue and decided to indulge him. Besides, if they were going to act as surrogate grandparents, they had many years of ribbing to catch up on.

“Yuugi’s coming home tomorrow, isn’t that right?” Sarah asked Atemu, discarding her first card of the game.

Atemu gave her a suspicious look. She knew full well the answer to that question. “Sarah…” he said playfully. He shook his finger at her, grinning. “What are you planning over there?”

“Not a thing, dear.” Sarah winked openly at Sugoroku. “I believe the seed has already been planted.”

“My grandson loves apples,” Sugoroku said. “I know he’d appreciate it a great deal if you made him an apple pie to welcome him home.”

The color drained from Atemu’s face before he blushed profusely. He knew his feelings for Yuugi were pretty obvious, but to so blatantly tease him about it! It was down right degrading. He glared at Sarah, then at Sugoroku, then at his cards. A smirk grew on his lips, but the blush stubbornly remained.

“Tell me, Sarah,” he said, picking up the card she had discarded. “Have you tired of winning yet?”

---

to be continued…

Translations:
Mazin – Arabic: meaning ‘Proper name.’ Atemu’s brother.
Rana - Arabic: meaning ‘To gaze, look.’ Mazin’s wife, Atemu’s sister-in-law.
Yamha – Arabic: meaning ‘Dove.’ Mazin’s daughter, Atemu’s niece.