The Path of Vengeance

Disclaimer: I don't own any name-brand anything.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Dabin, whose persistant prodding is getting this fic written in a timely manner. :)

Yugi’s sedative had kicked in, leaving Yami and Ryou to themselves in the dim light of his hospital room. The spirit teetered on the verge of a breakdown and the teen held him tightly, whispering words of comfort into his ear. The exchange was cut off though by the arrival of Dr. Hokkaido.

“Hello again, Ryou,” he smiled.

“Hello Doctor. This is Yami.”

Dr. Hokkaido nodded at the pharaoh and opened the folder he carried with him. “Yugi’s internal damage, while still prone to infection, will heal in time. I agree with Dr. Moore that he should be recovering at home. He will need to come back for further examination to see how well he’s healing.”

Yami tensed and once again Ryou spoke up. “We’ll bring him back, doctor.”

“Good. Dr. Moore is on his way to speak with you regarding his discharge.” The doctor shook Ryou’s offered hand and left the room.

“Did you hear that, Yami? He’s coming home.”

Yami nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

Ryou closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the duelist’s slender waist. “What can I do to make it better?” he asked.

Yami held on just as tightly. “You’re already doing it.”

A low cough in the doorway revealed Dr. Moore’s presence. “Excuse me,” he said.

“Dr. Moore,” Yami said, once again burying his emotions.

Dr. Moore stepped into the room and stood next to Yugi’s bed. He flipped through the teen’s medical chart for a moment before speaking again. “We have decided to release him,” he began. “But only under the condition that he is not left alone until his sutures have been removed and he is able to function for himself.”

“Of course,” Ryou said quickly.

Dr. Moore nodded. “He will be discharged tomorrow morning after the nurses have served breakfast. We are going to permit him to eat a small dinner this evening as well as in the morning. Before he is discharged he will need to have these prescriptions filled.” He handed four slips of paper to Yami. “The first one is for pain. It also acts as a mild muscle relaxer. Administer on an as-needed basis. The second is an antibiotic. He will need to take those on a strict schedule and finish the entire bottle. The third is a mild laxative. Once he begins eating solid food he will subsequently need to move his bowels. It will be quite painful for him and the medication should help relieve some of that pain. The fourth is a strong sedative. It can be habit-forming so only use it when absolutely necessary in the instance of flashbacks or hallucinations.” He looked critically at the pair. “If you don’t feel that you can give him the attention he will require say so now. I have no problem ordering another week in the hospital.”

“We will be fine, doctor,” Ryou said confidently.

Dr. Moore nodded. “Our staff psychiatrist, Dr. Ibaraki, will be here this evening to give him an evaluation. While it is not required for his discharge, it is highly recommended. Especially in this situation.”

“I don’t know,” Yami said slowly.

“Yes, definitely,” Ryou spoke up. He turned to Yami. “Trust me, this might help.”

“Very well. Expect her at about seven. Good luck to you all.” The three shook hands and the doctor departed.

“Are you sure about this, Ryou?” Yami asked.

“No,” Ryou admitted. “But it might be good for Yugi.”

Yami nodded. “Alright then. I’d better start calling everyone and giving them the news.”



Bakura opened the door to the hotel room and quietly peeked inside. He smirked to see Marik sprawled facedown on the bed, the white sheet draped loosely over his beautifully tanned muscular legs.

Whoever said the tomb robber was a romantic was a big damn liar. At least in this case. With a mighty cry, he leapt into the air and fell onto the bed with a forceful thud, the recoil of the mattress flinging Marik several feet into the air with a decidedly feminine screech.

The thief righted himself and sat back against the headboard, watching as his companion struggled to catch up.

Marik glared at him. “What the fuck did you do that for?” he growled.

“Get up,” Bakura replied instead of answering. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and tossed it at the spirit. “We’ve got a bit more to work with,” he said casually. “We should really go buy some clothes.”

The thought of donning the same shirt and jeans he’d been wearing for four days was not at all appealing to the Egyptian. Though he did have to laugh. “Buy some clothes?” he questioned. “You’re going to pay for something?”

“I only steal when I have to,” Bakura stated.

Marik opened the wallet. “And what would you call this?” he asked.

“I won that fair and square,” Bakura retaliated.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been out?”

“Since sundown.”

Marik looked at the clock. “Ugh,” he said. “I’ll never get used to this shit.” He pulled himself up and reached blindly over the side of the bed, his hand coming back up with his jeans and shirt which he pulled on with as little exertion as possible.

Bakura shoved his wallet back into his pocket and stood up, dragging the blonde with him. “Let’s go, you look gorgeous.”

Marik chuckled. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“Nah. Just the ones who put out.”

Marik punched his arm playfully. “Asshole.”

They left the room and boarded the elevator, taking it to the lobby.

Nearly fifteen minutes later they were entering the J.C. Penny in one of Las Vegas’ many malls. The sign offered them twenty minutes until the store closed. Marik was quick to speak up at Bakura’s choice of establishments.

“J.C. Penny?” he said. “We’re shopping here? What the hell?”

“Trust me,” Bakura replied. “I’ve spent all evening with these people and there’s one thing I learned right away. The better dressed you are the better you get treated. And I don’t know about you but I'm gonna milk this town for all it’s worth.”

Marik nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense,” he agreed.

They wandered purposefully for a few moments before coming to the men’s section. After a few quick size checks on the clothes they already wore, they began sifting through the store’s selection.

They each selected nearly ten dress shirts in a variety of colors along with several pairs of slacks in black, grey, and khaki. Sport jackets added to the piles, they moved to the dressing room.

Several moments later Marik stepped out of his booth and gaped at his reflection in the mirror. “Oh gods,” he said distastefully. He wore creased black pants with a matching coat and a navy blue shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Bakura asked from the next booth.

“I look like Seto Kaiba.”

Bakura bristled. He was grateful that Marik couldn’t see his expression. “So do I,” he replied casually, stepping out of the room. His jaw hit the floor as his eyes roamed over his companion. “Damn, Marik. I know you don’t want to hear it but you look hot.”

Marik didn’t respond. He was instead taking in every inch of the tomb robber’s new attire. They had each selected the same coat and pants but Bakura’s shirt was a deep wine red. “Let’s fuck,” he said, only half joking.

Bakura truly did consider the offer. But he wasn’t looking to carry around a set of blue balls when the store clerk kicked them out. “Later,” he promised. “Let’s get this done first.”

Marik nodded and they finished their shopping, adding shoes, toiletries, and business jackets to their order. The final bill was astronomical but Bakura assured him that it didn’t even make a dent in their stash.

Bakura arranged for delivery of their purchases at the hotel and the pair left the store, dressed in the clothes they tried on paired with classy shoes and overcoats.

“Where to now?” Marik asked.

“Dinner,” Bakura stated. “And then back to the strip.”

“Woo hoo!” Marik exclaimed. “We’re going to a nudie bar?”

Bakura stopped short and burst out laughing. “Sure,” he conceded. “A nudie bar it is.”



Tristan left his sleeping lover’s room and went next door into Mokuba’s. “How is he doing?” he asked the petite raven-haired woman.

Li looked up from her seated position next to the boy on the bed. “Tristan,” she said, holding a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

“Sorry.”

She sighed. “He hasn’t moved at all,” she said sadly. “Poor little guy. What on earth happened?”

Tristan ran a hand through his hair. “He witnessed an accident involving Seto,” he said cryptically. “It was fairly violent.”

Li shook her head. “Such a shame. Do you wish me to stay with him in lieu of my other duties?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Tristan replied, grateful that she had offered.

“Not at all. Mokuba and I will be just fine.” She brushed a wayward strand of hair from the boy’s vacant eyes.

“Thank you,” Tristan replied. “I’ll be back in a little while to check on him.” He moved back into the hallway but instead of going back to Kaiba’s room he descended the grand staircase and walked purposefully into the security room.

It only took a moment to find the tape that still recorded Kaiba’s home office. More time was spent however trying to remove it from the machine. Once it was free he left the booth and walked into the media room. With strengthened resolve, he slid the tape into the rack and picked up the remote that rested on the table, rewinding it to the beginning.

When the tape was ready he sat in Kaiba’s large leather seat and pressed play. The office was dark. He sped up the video and waited, watching the timer roll hours past in a matter of seconds.

At the first sight of his lover he slowed the speed down and turned up the volume. The timestamp revealed that the millionaire had entered his office just under an hour before Mokuba’s frantic phone call.

Kaiba stormed inside and turned on the light before angrily slamming the door shut. Tears were visible in his eyes and his entire demeanor seemed shaky. He opened the center drawer in his desk and pulled out a small key ring before moving to one of the many locked cabinets and pulling it open. The door blocked his view from the camera but when he closed it Tristan could see a large bottle of unlabeled liquor grasped in his hand.

The CEO sat down at his desk and opened the container, bringing it to his lips. Tristan’s eyes widened as he drank the nearly full bottle down by about a third. He sat in his black leather office chair crying and drinking for about fifteen minutes before it became obvious that he was starting to get tipsy. He moved to stand and fell back into his seat, a fresh wave of tears pouring out. “GODDAMNIT!” he yelled viciously, hurling the bottle across the room. It shattered into the glass display case that held the Colt.

Kaiba’s eyes widened curiously as he struggled to focus on the cabinet. It was then that Mokuba came into the room.

“Seto? What was that noise?”

Kaiba blinked a few times, his eyes coming to rest on the boy before turning back to his desk. He reached for a pen in an obvious attempt to appear busy but in his inebriated state he knocked the cup onto the floor. “Damn,” he muttered. “Gotta get those up. What time is it? Mokuba why aren’t you in school? You have to go to school so you can get smart and take over Kaiba Corp.”

The younger Kaiba’s eyes widened to see his brother so disheveled. “Seto? What’s going on? Where’s Tristan?”

Kaiba began to laugh. The kind of sound that could be heard bouncing off of concrete walls in an asylum. “Where is Tristan? I don’t know where Tristan is. He should be here with me. But that won’t happen. He doesn’t love us anymore, kid brother. I fucked up. Really bad. And he’s gone. Gone, gone, gone.”

Mokuba began to cry. “Seto, you’re scaring me. What happened?”

Kaiba looked up. “Mokuba? Why aren’t you in school?” he growled.

The boy fled the room and Kaiba pounded his fists down onto the desk before taking a violent swipe at his tear-filled eyes. “Have to get him back,” he mumbled. “Can’t lose him. Not like this.” He teetered to his feet and stumbled to the wall safe, ripping the portrait down and jabbing his finger at the control panel. After three attempts the safe clicked open. He reached in and pulled out Yugi’s duel deck, carrying it back to the desk with the care one would show to an injured animal. “For Tristan,” he said with drunken determination. He opened the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out a large manila envelope.

He had to get up again to retrieve one of the fallen pens. Halfway to the pile he turned swiftly and vomited into the wastebasket. Unfazed, took great care in selecting a pen and climbed back into his chair. The angle of the camera prohibited Tristan from seeing what was written on the front of the envelope or the note that was crammed into it along with the deck box. Kaiba dug through another drawer and pulled out a fresh book of stamps, carefully affixing each and every one to the front of the package.

More tears came then. The CEO was wracked with sobs, the only discernable word coming from his mouth being his lover’s name. His hand reached out as though looking for the bottle. It took a moment for him to recall its whereabouts. He looked again to the cabinet.

After a moment of intoxicated deliberation he rose to his feet and stumbled to the case, pulling out the Colt. He moved back to the desk and sat on its edge, his eyes trained on the gun. It was then that Mokuba’s voice could be faintly heard.

“But he won’t listen to me. He just keeps crying and talking to himself.”

The boy’s voice didn’t deter the millionaire.

“In the hallway.”

Tristan watched in horror as Kaiba slowly raised the gun to his temple.

“Come home. Please, Tristan?”

The voice was right outside the door. Mokuba became visible again through the camera lens. “But I need you to--big brother?”

Tristan couldn’t see the boy’s face, as the camera was behind him, over the door. He watched though as Mokuba dropped his cell phone and stood in shock for a moment before rushing forward and grabbing Kaiba’s arm.

The CEO didn’t acknowledge his brother’s presence. In fact, it seemed that he didn’t even know the boy was in the room, let alone tugging on his arm. His eyes opened and a look of determined resignation rushed into them. He pulled the trigger just as Mokuba gave a mighty tug, preventing the bullet from ricocheting around inside the teen’s head.

The gunshot made Tristan jump in his seat and the onscreen Mokuba fall back, his hands over his ears and eyes squeezed shut.

Blood poured liberally down Kaiba’s bare chest as he lowered the gun, sinking to his knees on the carpet.

No other movements or sounds were made until Tristan’s own voice could be heard thundering through the hallway.



Later that evening a large assembly had gathered in the hospital cafeteria. Yami and Ryou had called all of their friends and they had arrived just as the psychiatrist did. Everyone was asked to leave the room while she spoke to Yugi so they decided to move to the café. When everyone had taken a seat around the large table Yami began to speak.

“I have something I need to say,” he stated. With many curious eyes on him he began to explain. “Joey, I know that you and Tristan have strong feelings against Ryou right now.”

Joey nodded for both himself and his absent friend.

“You need to understand though that Ryou and I have decided to explore the possibility of a relationship. I care for him a great deal and so does Yugi. Now I understand your reservations about his yami but I assure you that Ryou has not and will not be choosing sides in this matter.”

“Look hon,” Mai said to Joey. “Yami and Ryou are only looking for what you and Duke have. The opportunity to be together without having to deal with prejudice. Especially from their friends.”

“She’s right,” Duke said gently, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand.

Joey shook his head. “I don’t trust you,” he said bluntly to the pale teen. “But I love Yugi and want what’s best for him. I'm warning you though; if you or your fucking yami ever hurt him again I won’t be willing to look past it.”

Ryou knew that was the best he could hope for. “I understand,” he said quietly.

“What’s going to happen when Yugi comes home?” Tea asked, gracefully changing the subject.

“Rest and recuperation,” Yami said matter-of-factly. “He’ll be pretty well medicated from what I understand.”

“He’s not to be left alone,” Ryou interjected. “That’s something the doctor made very clear.”

“I’ll be with him during the day,” Yami noted. “Ryou will be with us at night.”

Ryou cast a surprised glance at the pharaoh. This was news to him. “It would be very good for him to see all of you as often as you can find the time,” he said to the group. “You all mean so much to him. Especially you, Joey.”

Joey nodded. “I’ll be there every day after school.”

“Would it be okay for us to be there when he comes home in the morning?” Serenity asked. “It’s Saturday so there’s no school to worry about.”

Yami looked at Ryou. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, he knew that Ryou had firsthand experience in dealing with the emotional side of what his light was going through. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I think it would be a nice idea. So long as everyone is very calm. As much as it means to Yugi to be going home, it will be a dramatic change from the hospital. We don’t want to overwhelm him.”

“I’ve got some things that I set aside for him from the shop,” Duke said. “Maybe it would cheer him up to get some presents.”

“Yeah,” Tea’s eyes lit up. “We can have a little welcome-home party. A calm one,” she added when Yami’s eyebrows shot up.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Ryou responded with a smile.

For the next hour they discussed the plans for the “minor” party and passed around plates of nachos and pizza. Yami’s eyes remained focused on Ryou across the table.

How could I have fallen so hard so fast? He wondered. He missed the feeling of the teen’s hand in his, the scent of his thick snowy hair. It didn’t go unnoticed to him that they had not had a moment alone since their unexpected reunion.

Ryou listened to Isis’ suggestions for the gathering with half an ear. Though he was interested in hearing the woman’s ideas, Yami’s lingering gaze kept sending shivers across his skin. “I think it’s a great idea, Isis,” he managed once the woman had stopped speaking, hoping to every deity he’d ever heard of that she didn’t ask for his input. He had no idea what she’d said.

Yami smirked, sensing Ryou’s growing embarrassment. With just a small amount of disappointment he had to end the exchange. “Visiting hours are over,” he said. “Ryou and I should check on Yugi.”

“Of course,” Serenity said, rising to her feet. She gave both Yami and Ryou a hug. “Please tell Yugi that I hope he’s doing okay and I’ll see him tomorrow morning.”

“We will,” Ryou confirmed. When the group filed out of the cafeteria he turned to Yami. “What was that about?” he asked, a smile dancing on his face.

Yami shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he laughed.

Yami pulled him close and kissed him gently. “Sorry if I embarrassed you,” he said.

“It’s alright,” Ryou replied breathlessly.

Yami took his hand. “We’d better get upstairs before I have my way with you on the table here.”

“Yami,” Ryou admonished, looking around to make sure no one heard the pharaoh’s lewd comment.

The spirit grinned. “Sorry,” he said, not meaning it in the least.

Ryou shook his head with a laugh. “Come on.”



The two wayward yamis sat together at one of the many elegantly draped tables at the Sapphire Gentlemen’s Club. An attractive brunette was sensually draped over Marik’s lap, her hips grinding into his crotch to the beat of the heavy music. Bakura looked on with a lecherous smile, enjoying the look of torment on his lover’s face.

“Hey cutie,” a petite redhead spoke up from behind him.

“Hey yourself,” Bakura replied good naturedly. He chuckled as the woman climbed onto the table, positioning herself in front of him, her platform shoes resting on his thighs, offering a sinful peek at what lay beneath her skirt. “Nice view,” he commented blatantly.

The woman grinned. “Why thank you,” she replied. She leaned forward, resting her arms on his shoulders. “Now show me yours.”

“Whoo! Go Bakura!” Marik applauded with a laugh.

Bakura offered his trademark smirk. “You know where to find it,” he challenged, laying several bills next to her on the table and leaning back in his seat.

His movement caused her to sit up, lest she fall into his lap. With a seductive smile she removed her shoes from his legs and climbed onto them, her skirt flaring out to hide the view of her tiny g-string as she rubbed over his semi-hard erection.

Marik and his token brunette watched the display with interest, the woman cheering her friend on. The slightest stirring of jealousy ran through the blonde but it was easily conquered by the arousal of watching Bakura thrusting beneath the woman, eager for more contact. He could feel his cock quickly outgrowing its confines in the classy black trousers he now wore and had to fight against the urge to grab hold of it and beat off in front of the entire establishment.
Bakura pulled his eyes from the redhead’s ample breasts and locked eyes with the Egyptian, noting the desire radiating back at him. Marik was nearly panting as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The thief winked at him, conveying an inaudible message that the blonde heard loud and clear. It was something akin to “don’t you wish this was you that I’m grinding my hips into?” The answer, of course, was a resounding yes.

The rest of the night carried on in much the same manner. The pair fell into a competitive game of purchasing dances from various performers for the sole intent of driving the other to new and higher levels of frustration and anomalous jealousy.

No shred of doubt rested in either spirit’s mind regarding the absolute ferocity of the sexual encounter that was sure to take place upon their return to the hotel. Each played upon the other’s weaknesses, pushing buttons and casting seductive glares that arose not only arousal but anger as well.

It was a miracle that they made it back to the hotel at all.

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And that would be chapter twelve. I swear I'm not always this depressing. I'm not. WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?!?! :-)