Going On

Disclaimer - Still Don't own them, which is probably a very good thing, or I'd REALLY have people after my head. There's enough people head hunting me as it is, thank you very much!

Author's Notes - another chapter for you all before the weekend. I took you all by surprise with that last chapter, didn't I? *grins* Well, you'll just have to stick around and see what happens next, won't you? Lots of angst in this chapter, as well as the full list of damages to Yami. Try not to want to kill me . . . just remember, if you kill the authoress, she can't write anymore.
speaking of which . . . who wants a happy ending to this? I'm still debating on whether or not I'll be nice, considering how fucked up my life is right now.


Chapter 14 - The Will To Fight


The drive back to the mansion was anything but victorious, considering the circumstances. Malik and Marik drove Yugi’s hijacked Jag, Bakura and Ryou in the other car with Yugi and Yami. Yugi whimpered in the back seat, stroking back the golden bangs from his dark’s battered face where it lay against his lap.

“I’m sorry, Yami . . . I’m so sorry,” he whispered, over and over again, like a mantra. It was his fault . . . if he’d kept his promise to Yami, and stayed in the mansion, it would never have come to this. His mind drifted back over the argument that had occurred before, and he shuddered, clutching the tortured body closer to him protectively.

Malik wanted to kill Yami . . . to ‘end his suffering’ as he’d called it, like Yami was some stray dog! Marik had snapped at him that there had to be some other way, while Yugi had huddled over his dark protectively, snarling at anyone who got close. Only Bakura had stayed out of it, remaining silent and cold as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other.

He didn’t know what Marik had finally said to Malik to make him back off the subject, but he was grateful to his guardian for it. Listening to Malik talk about Yami like he was already dead had nearly broken his heart. There had to be a way to undo this . . . there just had to! He refused to consider any other option. He wouldn’t lose Yami again . . . not like this, not when they were so close to everything they had ever wanted from each other.


*-------*-------*-------*------*


Bakura lifted the limp form of the Pharaoh from the back seat, draping his trench coat over Yami gently to cover his battered body before striding into the house, silently passing the gathered friends and their questions. Let Ryou handle them . . . for now, he had other things to do. He could feel Yugi at his heels, a dark presence behind him, but that was to be expected. Actually, it was welcome . . . he would need the young man’s help with his yami before they could begin the medical attention the former Pharaoh’s body required.

The bathroom in Yami’s assigned bedroom was clean, housing a huge tub that would easily fit three people, thankfully. Removing his trench, he draped it on the floor before laying Yami upon it, turning to begin the bath before stripping down to his skin. Yugi was gathering the supplies they would need silently, amethyst eyes dark as he carefully went about obtaining shampoo, anti-bacterial soap, soft washcloths, several towels, and Kaiba’s medical kit, before stripping himself. No words were spoken between them . . . none were needed. They both concentrated on Yami now. Later would be time enough to mourn and think.

Slipping into the warm tub, Bakura accepted the slim form of the Pharaoh from the young hikari, shifting so that the tri-haired head settled on his shoulder with his back exposed to them. Watching Yugi gather a cloth and wet it, he winced as the blood began to come off that mauled flesh from the gentle strokes. How Yami had survived such brutality was beyond him . . . there were places on his back where the skin had been stripped clear down to muscle from the whip, and other welts that were caked with ground in grime and filth. Nothing he had ever suffered back in Egypt could compare to what the Pharaoh had survived for his light.

Yugi worked quietly, biting his lip to hold back tears as he slowly revealed the extent of the damages that had been hidden under that mask of blood and dirt. It was appalling what Kage had done to his love . . . and he knew that this was barely scratching the surface of the list. Yami needed the medical attention that only a hospital with a full staff could give him . . . but like Bakura that was impossible. The spirits had no identification in this time, no real identity in this age of computers and technology. They would have to do what they could for Yami here . . . and hope that he might someday wake to actually appreciate it.

Moving from the tattered remains of his love’s back, he worked calmly and quietly over the firm globes of flesh, before gliding down the long, lean legs with firm, loving strokes. He glanced up at Bakura when he was done, signaling to the spirit to turn Yami over so that he could continue on his love’s front, giving it the same care and attention to detail. When he was done, they drained the tub of the blood and dirt colored water, filling it with clean before beginning again, making sure they get every last part of the fallen Pharaoh.

What was revealed was a map of bruises and cuts, a symphony of pain that no mortal could have survived. Yugi could barely bring himself to bathe Yami’s most private areas . . . the obvious damage of brutally torn flesh from rape and manhandling bringing back discomforting memories of his own scars that he still bore from his attack from Kage. But it needed to be done, and he wanted every inch of his love free of the filth of Kage, no matter his personal discomfort. It was Yami that mattered most now.

The once brilliant hair came next, matted with blood and other things that didn’t bear thinking on. As Yugi ran the limp strands through his fingers, combing out the tangles and knots gently, working his fingers into the scalp to scrub the filth that lay there free, he chanted a mantra in his head. ‘Please, Yami, come back to me.’

Emerging from the tub, he lay the towels down upon the floor, helping Bakura remove his battered dark from the blood-tinted water. Yami’s wounds had broken open and bled freely, something that concerned him greatly, but Bakura did not seem to be worried.
As if reading the young hikari’s mind, Bakura finished wrapping a huge towel around his waist before kneeling beside the prone form, reaching out to touch that battered flesh with one pale hand.

“It’s good that he bleeds, Yugi,” he murmured, seeing the concern and fear in the young man’s eyes. “It will clean any remaining debris from the wounds, and shows that they aren’t infected.” Yugi nodded in reply before silently beginning to hand Bakura the medical supplies he would need to cover that horribly scarred expanse of flesh. Anti-septic cream was rubbed into each strip of opened flesh, creating a pinkish mass as it mixed with the free-flowing blood, before the entire back was overlain with a linen cloth, and then bandaged tightly in cotton that wrapped over the entire torso. It would also serve to bind the broken rib in place until it healed.

It was with delicate hesitancy that Bakura turned to the next task, uncertain and uncomfortable with what was required of him. He needed to see how much internal damage had been done to Yami’s rectum, and it was an unpleasant thought that he had to violate so personal an area to do so. He reached for the crème with a shaking hand, discomfort evident in his every move . . . before a gentle hand closed around his wrist, stopping him.

“I’ll do it, Bakura,” Yugi whispered. “You’ll simply have to tell me what I’m looking for.” Red-brown met amethyst for a solemn moment, seeing the determination in those jewel-like eyes before he nodded.

“Just be gentle, Yugi . . . as if you were preparing him for love. You need to feel for any tears in his inner walls, any rips that could cause his entire system to go septic.” Yugi shuddered, but nodded slightly, coating his finger with the anti-septic crème generously before preparing himself mentally for what he had to do.

“I’m sorry Yami,” he whispered, before sliding one finger home into the warmth of his other’s body. With more than necessary concentration, he slowly probed each and every inch of his love, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he withdrew with no evidence of internal injury. “I didn’t feel anything, Bakura.” The thief nodded gratefully, handing him a cloth with which to wipe off his finger before he gently turned the Pharaoh onto his back. The mark of teeth at the juncture of neck and shoulder was quickly taken care of, as were other marks of a similar nature along arms and legs, before he turned to the aquiline features.

“You know . . . I never realized how absolutely beautiful he is,” Bakura murmured conversationally, brushing the blonde bangs away from the battered face gently before setting about rubbing cream into the scratches that marred cheeks and forehead.

“I don’t even think he realizes it sometimes, Bakura,” Yugi whispered in reply, watching the thief tend to his lover solemnly. “But it’s not just his external beauty . . . it’s the beauty of his soul that I love as well.” Bakura nodded, not turning his eyes from his work.

“I can’t believe I hated him for so long over something that wasn’t even his fault,” the former thief replied after several moments. “I would have liked to get to know him better.”

“You’ll get your chance . . . we all will,” the young hikari said firmly. “I refuse to give up hope. I’ve survived two years without him beside me . . . I won’t let him go so easily this time. There has to be some way to save him from this.” He jumped slightly as a pale hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Yugi . . . there may not be a way. If there isn’t, what will you do? Will you have him beside you like this, tortured inside while silent outside, for the rest of your life? Or will you be able to let him go?” Bakura asked. “Only you can decide this . . . but you have to be prepared for the worst.” Yugi sobbed suddenly, his shoulders sagging as the brave front he had maintained finally fell with Bakura’s blunt honesty.

“I can’t live without him,” he choked out, shuddering with the force of his agony as pale arms gathered him close. “I just can’t, Bakura.”

“Gods willing, you won’t have to,” the thief whispered, and left it at that.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


“Marik, will you fucking listen to reason!?” Malik growled, stalking after his hikari as the young man strode angrily down the hallway, toward his bedroom. “You know I’m right!”

“No, you’re not!” Marik snapped over his shoulder, not slowing his pace. “How can you just calmly condemn him to death?! For someone who claims he’s changed, that he loves me, you sure aren’t showing much emotion now! Ra, Malik . . . he’s your Pharaoh!”

“He’s nothing but a catatonic corpse now, Anubis take it! Do you honestly think we’re doing him a favor by leaving him in that state!? You know as well as I do that he’s probably wishing for death right now . . . we should grant his wish and finish it before Kage has a chance to come back!” Violet eyes flew wide as a resounding crack echoed through the hallway, staring down into lavender orbs in shock as one hand rose to cover his face, where his hikari had just slapped him.

“You unimaginable bastard!” the smaller blonde hissed, clenching his hands into fists with his anger. “How could I possibly believe that you had changed, when you can so casually talk about murdering Yami without even considering that there might be a way to save him!?” There were tears in those light purple orbs, tears that left Malik hurting and unable to respond to the accusation. “You truly are my yami . . . and you haven’t changed one bit.” With that, he opened the door to his room, stepping inside before slamming the door in his dark’s face.

Malik stared at the door in silent agony, feeling the link between them close just a harshly as the door had, locking him out of his hikari’s mind . . . and his heart.

“Marik . . .” he whispered, pressing his hand against the closed door, only to be greeted with silence. He whirled from the door in anger, a snarl twisting his lips as he stormed down the hallway and down the stairs, leaving the house in a wave of agony and anger. He knew he was right, Horus help him!

But what if he wasn’t?

That thought tormented him as he lost himself within the hedge maze. What if there was a chance? What if there was a way to save Yami? If there was . . .

He sank onto the bench in the middle of the maze, staring at the distant house absently as he thought. He knew just as much about the ancient scrolls as his hikari did . . . and a good deal more about Shadow Magic. There had to be a flaw in what Kage had done . . . he merely had to find it. But how could he find it, when he didn’t know exactly what Kage had done?

An idea came to mind, and he rose with the thought, making his way out of the maze and toward the garage. If there was some clue, it would be in the scrolls . . . which were at the apartment his hikari had shared with the Pharaoh’s light. He would retrieve them, and spend the rest of his unnatural existence pouring over them if he had to . . . anything to prove to Marik that he had changed . . . and that he did love him.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Seto watched Marik speed out of the driveway, his love cradled against him as Joey fought not to cry as many of their other friends already were behind them. They had all heard the fight between the two Egyptians, and they had all heard of Yami’s condition, if not seen it due to Bakura’s coat covering the limp body the thief had been carrying. They were left in a state of shock and horror, unable to understand any of what had transpired. All they knew was that their friends were hurting, Yugi and Yami worst of all, and it left them helpless to figure out how to solve the problem. If there was any way to solve it.

“I won’t rest until we find a way to undo this,” Seto murmured, almost too low for the blonde to hear. “I don’t think any of us will.”

“But what can be done, my dragon?” Joey whispered. “I know I’m not the smartest of the bunch, but I don’t think even you can come up with a way to solve this situation.” Sapphire eyes practically glowed as they met amber, their depths swimming with pain.

“Yami . . . was my rival for too long for me to see him end this way,” the tall brunette replied. “If there is anything within my power to help him . . . I will do so. Even if it means learning more of these ‘powers’ I have through the Rod.” He shook his head slightly, the blue eyes darkening. “He deserves better than this.”

“Thank you, Kaiba,” a voice behind them murmured, and they all turned to find Yugi standing in the doorway, bedraggled and weary with pain. “For those words. I know how much you hated him . . . hated us . . .”

“That stopped the day he sacrificed himself for all of us two years ago, Yugi,” he said harshly, a bit more harshly than he intended, as he could see by the way Yugi flinched. “He was my rival, but never my enemy. I respect him. And that respect demands that I help him, even if I didn’t consider you a friend now. I would like the chance to make of him a friend as well.”

“We all . . . never had a chance to get to know him,” Tea murmured. “I mean . . . we all knew of him, and we all spoke to him when he was in control of your body, but we never really got to know HIM. We wanted to . . . and we have that chance now. We’ll all help in any way we can, Yugi. You know that, right?”

Yugi nodded, the amethyst eyes swimming with tears in the face of this blatant show of friendship for him and for his dark. He had shut them out for the past two years, maintaining only the lightest contact with them . . . and now he knew for certain that he had been wrong. He felt them surround him, felt them envelop them in warm embraces and gentle caresses, and couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down his face. He had his friends . . . and someday, he hoped, they would have a chance to show that friendship to Yami.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Finishing the shields upon the room in which Yami lay, Bakura wiped the sweat from his brow, his body aching. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but in a sense he agreed with Malik. They couldn’t be sure what would happen now, and it was better to take precautions against Kage regaining control than to have the psychotic shadow on the loose in their very midst. Not that the body would be of much use to him at the moment if he did gain control.

Any mortal would have died from the abuse Kage had meted out to the Pharaoh over the past two days. He stopped at that thought. Had it really been only two days? Counting back in his head, he realized it had, and shuddered. Two days of near constant torture and rape . . . how had the Pharaoh survived?

“His will to live,” a voice murmured off to his right. Red-brown eyes turned to meet lavender as the blonde sagged against the wall next to him, sliding down it to sit on the floor, Bakura joining him after a moment. “His will to survive and protect Yugi at all costs was stronger than Kage’s will to break him. That why I believe there is a way to save him. Yami’s will is stronger than any person living or dead . . . and as long as he believes Yugi is in danger, he will stop at nothing to ensure Kage cannot win. Even if he is in hell right now . . . for him it is far better than the alternative – simply giving up and letting Kage run loose.”

“You do know that Malik has a point though, right?” the thief replied quietly. “If we kill that body, we end any chance of Kage. He won’t have a body to return to.”

“No,” Marik whispered harshly. “I refuse to do it. Not until we’ve exhausted every option.” He sighed. “These last two years have been hard on Yugi as it is. After the steps he and Yami made this time around . . . it would kill him, Bakura. He would die inside, and it wouldn’t take long before his body followed.”

“You love him,” the Tomb Robber pointed out. Marik shook his head, blonde hair flying slightly with the movement.

“Not in the way you mean,” he said quietly. “Yes, I care about him . . . but as a brother and a close friend. Yugi gave me a reason to continue on, after everything that happened in Battle City. He forgave me, and convinced the others to forgive me as well. I owe it to him to try to save Yami. That’s all.” Bakura nodded in understanding, and a comfortable silence fell between them.

It was broken by footsteps on the stairs, Yugi slowly climbing them as if the weight of the world lay on his shoulders. Amethyst eyes glanced at the two sitting beside his dark’s door, before he approached them slowly, stopping beside them.

“Bakura . . . I . . . I know you put shields up,” Yugi began, and then paused, swallowing his heart back so he could continue. “But can I . . . can I lay next to him? Just for a little while? You can keep an eye on us, I promise. I just . . . I need to be close to him right now, even if it is only physically.” The thief exchanged glances with Marik, then shrugged before standing carefully.

“Yeah, Yugi,” he said, escorting the smaller man through the shield he’d just finished putting on the door. “We’ll be right outside . . . if you need anything, holler.” The tri-haired youth nodded, but didn’t turn from his path, walking across the carpeted floor to the bed slowly, sinking down upon it to sit beside the prone, unmoving figure of his dark. Bakura backed out of the room, giving them their privacy as he returned to his spot beside Marik, the two quietly chatting and trying to come up with any ideas to solve the current circumstances.

Inside the room, Yugi gently brushed the golden bangs out of the flickering eyes of his yami, the unseeing orbs fixed unerringly upon the ceiling above. He sighed as his fingers sank into the silken threads of crimson, black, and gold, letting the strands slide through the appendages lovingly as he gazed down at that still, battered face.

His eyes burned, but he had no more tears left with which to cry, the pain in his heart and soul a constant ache as he gazed at his battered love, remembering the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands, the warmth of his mind.

“Come back to me, beloved,” he whispered. “Come back and be with me, like you promised. Don’t leave me here all alone.” The dream was like a distant memory now, the taste and feel of Yami like a precious jewel that he had locked away in his heart, taking it out every now and then to gaze on it lovingly before tucking it back away. It was his treasure, his knowledge of how it would have been between them in reality . . . and he refused to give it up.

Sighing, he lay down beside his love, his yami, the other half of his soul, resting his head above the steadily beating heart, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

Author's Notes - *cringes* okay, so I'm not a nice person . . . I'm trying! Geesh . . . blame Bakura!

(Bakura) Oh hell no . . . you are NOT pinning this shit on me! I had nothing to do with it, muse or not, Drac. This was all you and you're need to make someone else suffer in literature because you can't do it in RL! Not my fault that there are laws prohibiting murder in this time.

(Drac) Oh, shut up, Tomb Robber. I love you and all, but you can really be a pain in my ass. And get the lecherous grin off your face, I didn't mean it that way! *shudders* Gah, anyway, reviews please? They make me feel better about this shit hole that is currenlty my life.