State of Mind

PAIRING(S): Seto + Mokuba

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS: Grey-san, Corvin-san, Field-san and the Kravans.

SPOILERS: None really, since the plot is most likely more AU than anything else.

SUMMARY: Mokuba is now 15 years old and has grown into a confident young man. In the years since Secrets that Remain Mokuba has become aware of Seto's game and the brothers have become inseparably close. Yet many secrets still remain. As the eve of Mokuba's 16th birthday nears, a new and unusual tension is in the air.
What lies beneath the surface of happy days and silent nights? When the demons of the past will not die, how does one continue to live? "This ephemeral peace will one day shatter and all shall fall away...”

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yuugiou nor am I making any money from this story. Please give appropriate support toward Yuugiou's mangaka Takahashi Kazuki.

*****WARNINGS: PLEASE NOTE that this story contains direct mention and some description of sexual/mental child abuse between two males. This content is portrayed as a damaging, terrible act of violation toward a child as any type of child abuse is; however, if this subject offends you in ANY way, please do not read.

Contains Yaoi/MalexMale/Homosexual and incestuous situations, mature language, mention of attempted suicide, and various other not nice things.

-Blood.

---Chapter 12---

The pair spent the next few hours exploring the surrounding area, watching out for more creatures and studying the insects and flora that grew about. Mokuba had an insatiable interest in the system of the forest. He asked several probing questions about Mrs. Kravan and her groups for environmental protection. He was outraged about the vast areas of forest being stripped and cut down illegally around the world, especially in this hemisphere. Ambrosia was a protected island and with heavy surveillance all along the shoreline; a silent alarm sounding when anything larger than a German Shepherd crossed certain boundaries on shore. Any boat that is not preapproved for entrance is detected as it approaches. To Seto's knowledge Ira had not had any incident with loggers yet.

The two discussed the possible influence they could have on this field, being careful not to directly mention work.

Trekking back into the trees, the conversation faded. Seto set out in front, moving carefully through the slight underbrush. Caution for not only the pair's safety, but also for any animals they could meet on the way. Seto initiated the conversation again, keeping his voice louder than usual to assure larger creatures would hear them coming and, hopefully, move away. It was never a good idea to sneak up on a wild animal.

Neither Mokuba nor Seto saw the incident coming nor could they later say for sure what happened to initiate it. They were walking a somewhat sparse trail that overlooked a steep diagonal hill. Both remembered passing this very way earlier that morning. It was safe then and seemed safe to travel again. The only difference now was that it had been raining for the last thirty minutes as they made their way home.

"Be cautious," Seto would remember saying as his shoes stuck slightly in the mud. They had made it three quarters of the path when the terrain shifted suddenly under Seto's feet. Mokuba had no time to see the danger as he followed his brother. The ground slid out from under their feet. Had the ground been dry they could have ceased momentum easier. Instead, as Seto sought better footing, his shoes slipped on wet leaves and mud and balance was lost completely. Mokuba soon lost his footing as well. Both fell onto the sloping hill, sliding haphazardly down. Mokuba had several close calls with upturned roots, rocks, fallen trees and not to mention standing trees. He tumbled to the end of the incline, which stopped abruptly onto a three foot drop. Mokuba landed partially on his back with a loud thud, the breath all at once gone from his lungs.

Mokuba spent several minutes catching his breath and pushed the black void away from the corners of his vision. He was dizzy, the world spinning long after he had stopped rolling. His body ached from several bleeding scratches and unseen bruises across his body. He precariously rolled onto one side so that his backpack would stop poking his spine. He looked up at the three foot drop from which he had fallen. He saw all the debris and countless possible collision points and wondered how in hell they had made it down that hill alive. Mokuba’s heart froze, his mind reeling with a sudden tangent thought. He focused in the direction his body was turned and saw no one. No Seto. He sat up too fast and almost wretched as his stomach clenched and his mind grew thick from nausea. He grabbed his head, fighting not to shut his eyes in case he passed out. As his system settled, he turned his head to the area around him, hands pressed hard against his temples. As he scanned his right side, he finally noticed something a little further away from the drop and maybe fifteen feet from Mokuba. Among the fronds of underbrush he could make out a large, unnatural lump. The once sky blue shirt was torn and stained with something thick and dark. Was that blood?

Mokuba stood as quickly as was sensible in his current state and walked to the silent body. He could now see Seto better. He was lying on his stomach, face turned away. Mokuba got down on his knees, glad for the mud’s cool softness over his inflamed skin, and leaned over Seto. He knew better than to move Seto, that fall could have easily broken something. It could have killed him. Mokuba could not see for all the mud and leaves, so he crawled around to Seto’s front. He instantly cringed upon sight of the beautiful face lying with one cheek in muddy water mixed with the streaks of blood that stained Seto’s face. Mokuba checked for breath, for a heartbeat and was relieved to find both normal. He calmly brought his hands to Seto’s neck, fingering the bones there softly. He had no idea what he was doing, but he thought maybe he could tell if something was broken this way.

“Nii-sama? Wake up; come on,” he prodded with a higher-than-normal tone. He continued to call to the unresponsive brunette as he felt along other accessible bones.

As the rain continued to fall Mokuba got increasingly nervous. The small puddle under Seto’s cheek was not up to his mouth and the rain was not showing signs of stopping. They could not stay here for too long. The darkness of night would arrive earlier with clouds blocking the sky. He removed the brunette’s backpack carefully and sat it aside. He placed a firm hand on the back of Seto’s neck as he rolled the lethargic body over onto its back. He curbed panic as the body turned and Seto’s right temple was visible. The blood was mostly coming from the right side of Seto’s forehead where a muddy, bloody gash was now seen. There were more scratches along his arms including one deep slash on his right forearm. His shirt was torn in several places and dyed carmine.

Mokuba used the first aid kit in Seto’s pack to clean the head wound as much as possible and dousing it with disinfectant; careful to keep it out of Seto’s eyes. He wiped the rich mud from Seto’s face, cleaning it and blood out of nearly every facial orifice; noticing how discolored were the cold lips as he wiped at them. It was simply too wet for any hope of putting a useful bandage on the damaged skin, especially with the location. Determinedly, Mokuba wrapped a cloth bandage around Seto’s skull, lodging a thick, sterile pad over the wound. He applied equal care to Seto’s arm, pouring medicine over the wound. It would not stop bleeding. He applied temporary, thick bandages, knowing the wetness would not preserve the competence of the cover for long. He propped Seto’s arm up with his lap, hoping the elevation would slow the blood flow. He was staring at Seto’s impassive face when he felt something touch his leg. Looking down, Mokuba noticed Seto’s hand move, the fingers curling experimentally. Soon after, cloudy indigo eyes opened under falling rain. They closed and, before Mokuba could react, Seto moved his left hand to umbrella his eyes. When his eyes opened again, the color was clearer and the brunette seemed to be aware.

“Mokuba?” Seto asked in a slightly gruff voice, looking first at him then at his surroundings.

“Ni-sama…” Mokuba choked up, tried to remain strong.

“We fell…” his eyes turned to the ledge, “from the path up there.”

“Yes, we did…”

“Are you okay?” Seto asked worriedly.

This comment finished Mokuba’s nerve and warm, salty tears flowed down his face. He hoped Seto couldn’t see them for the rain. He cleared his throat and answered shakily, “Yes. I’m fine, but you… I wasn’t sure what to do. You’ve been out for s…so long.” He bit a trembling lip and swallowed loudly.

“Mokuba…” Seto looked heartsick. He moved his shield hand away from his eyes and held it out to Mokuba whom grabbed it and clung.

“S…sorry. I’ve just been worried. You’re bleeding,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Am I?” Seto asked calmly.

“You w…were. I had to stop it. I thought…” Mokuba stopped himself and took a deep breath. “I’m acting dumb. Sorry.” His expression was poisoned by his own despondent thoughts and a heartrending frown set upon his lips. They had finally stopped trembling, but how Mokuba was looking more and more angry.

Seto watched the face contort in silent pessimism for a long minute. He squeezed the discouraging teen’s hand tightly and then tried to pull him forward. When Mokuba resisted, Seto attempted to sit up. Mokuba reacted immediately; he jumped back into action to keep Seto down until the brunette insisted,

“I can’t lay her all night, Otouto.”

Mokuba supported Seto as he folded into a sitting position, elbows on bent knees. Seto released a slow, deliberate breath.

“Dizzy?” Mokuba asked softly, hand splayed on Seto’s back. The teen already seemed to have pulled himself back together adequately.

“Not much. Here; I need to stand.”

“Not too fast now,” Mokuba warned, voice firm. Seto held tightly to Mokuba, letting his brother hold onto his waist and shoulder to assist him. Now upright, it was easier to see the damage done to Seto’s shirt; it was hopelessly stained with red and brown and ripped in many places.

“How are your legs? Can you walk?” Mokuba sounded fully composed now. Seto was approving and glad for it; he decided not to mention Mokuba’s temporary breakdown. It was not currently important. The most urgent task now was to get moving as quickly as possible. He could already feel the chill in his spine despite the heat of the sun. Mokuba was still bleeding in many places, most of those mud stained.

“I can walk.” Seto next looked at his watch and noticed somberly that it was busted and muddy. A quick, careful analysis of his whereabouts told him they were most likely parallel to the path that had failed them. If only the sun were visible he could instantly be sure of which direction they headed. He would also be able to judge the time with the sun’s assistance, but here the trees were too high. Seto ran over the facts quickly. They had fallen with a full hour trek ahead of them. If they took a wrong turn or took too much time to go the right way, it would leave them traveling these woods in the dark. That would be very dangerous with or without injuries.

He started to reach for his backpack, but Mokuba headed him off and lifted it to his hands. Seto reached into a small side pocket on the pack and retrieved his compass. Miraculously, thankfully, the device was still intact; probably due to Seto’s painful belly-flop. He let Mokuba help put the pack back over both shoulders. A quick double check and the pair went on their way. They traveled slowly, painfully and silently.