The Path of Vengeance

Okay, here's a twofer-one update. I got more done than anticipated at the think-hole!

“Okay the secret to this game is to never let anyone at the table know what you are thinking.”

“I don’t get it, Bakura. Why not just take what we want?”

“Look, we’re trying to keep a low profile here. I’m the master thief, not you. You’d get us caught.”

“If I had my Millennium Rod you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“You left it with Malik, that’s not my fault.”

“Well I didn’t want to arouse suspicion now did I?”

“I’ve got something you can arouse.”

“That’s just like you, always thinking with your cock.”

The dealer cleared his throat. “Sir would you like to hit or stand?” he said to Marik.

Marik looked at his cards. “I don’t fucking know.”

“He wants a hit,” Bakura stated, chuckling at Marik’s cards. Twelve wouldn’t get him anywhere with the dealer’s ten showing.

“Eighteen,” the dealer announced to the table, dropping a black six onto Marik’s eight and four.

“Hit again,” Marik said, enjoying the added cards.

“No, he doesn’t want to hit,” Bakura said quickly.

“Yes I do,” Marik stated. “Line ‘em up my good man.”

“Oh, Ra,” Bakura mumbled, watching as the dealer dropped him a nine.

“Bust,” the man stated.

“Woo hoo!” Marik shouted.

Bakura shook his head. “Marik, love, you just lost.”

“What? Bullshit, I have way more points than him.”

“You can’t go over twenty one points, remember?”

Marik started at his cards for a full minute. He turned to face Bakura. “This game sucks,” he stated.

“Congratulations, sir,” the dealer said to Bakura, who’d just beaten him with a twenty.

Bakura nodded and gathered up his winnings, leaving the original bet of five hundred dollars standing on the table. “Why don’t you try another game?” he said to Marik.

Marik nodded. “I think I will.” He adjusted his tan sport coat and stood, taking up his drink and stuffing his chips in various pockets of his slacks. Without regard for the surrounding populace he walked behind Bakura and took a handful of his albino hair, pulling his head back and crushing their lips together.

Bakura moaned into the blonde’s mouth, enjoying the harsh taste of tequila that it offered. One of his hands snaked up to rest on the back of Marik’s head, deepening the kiss, his tongue delving deep within the sweltering cavern to battle the other in a ritual dance as timeless as the pair themselves.

Nearing its conclusion Marik nipped at Bakura’s bottom lip with his teeth. “I’ll see you later.”

Bakura growled, shifting in his seat. “You fucking bet you will, you cock tease.” He waited until the Egyptian was out of sight before turning back to the table. All it took was a raised eyebrow over his glass of scotch for the table to resume its former activities. Not surprisingly there were no comments from the other patrons.



Ryou rode the elevator to the fifth floor of the hospital, out of breath from running all around town. In his hands were two bags, one with Yugi’s prescriptions, and the other holding a sweat suit for the small duelist to wear home. Catching a glimpse of himself in the stainless steel elevator casing he hoped he did the right thing.

The doors opened and he walked tentatively toward Yugi’s room, his hands beginning to shake. He didn’t expect to be this nervous. On one hand he hoped this would help Yugi assuage his fears. On the other he didn’t want to shock the teen into another episode.

He paused just outside the door and took a deep breath. He knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. It was just after seven and his friend wanted to go home. Grow up, Ryou he thought determinedly. Head high he strode through the door.

Two nearly identical jaws dropped when he walked in. A slow blush crept over his cheeks though he tried to appear unfazed. “Hey Yugi,” he said with only a minor quake in his voice. “I got your medicine and stopped at your house to pick up some clothes for you to wear home. I see you’re just about ready.” The IV and catheter had been removed and the teen was sitting up in bed expectantly.

“Ryou,” Yami breathed. “What did you do?”

Ryou had known that there was no way it would go unannounced by one or the other of them. He patted his damp, jet-black locks self-consciously. “I thought brown would be a little too much,” he stammered. “You know, with my eyes being brown and all…and blonde was just not my color…”

“Why did you do that to yourself?” Yugi questioned uncertainly.

Ryou kept his eyes on the floor so the teen couldn’t see his tears. “I did it for you,” he revealed.

Yugi glanced at Yami before turning back to his friend. “For me? What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” Ryou choked. “I know that every time you look at me you see Bakura. That’s not fair to you.”

“Ryou,” Yugi whispered, touched to the core by his friend’s noble gesture. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I did,” the teen replied strongly. “If this is all it takes to help you get over this then it’s the least I can do.”

Yugi’s arms shot into the air and Ryou rushed into them, hugging his friend as tightly as he dared. “Thank you,” Yugi said through the tears now slipping from his amethyst eyes.

Ryou nodded, grateful that at least Yugi was okay with it. There was another though who had been eerily silent throughout the exchange. One whose opinion mattered in regards to personal appearance. “Yami?” he said, releasing Yugi and standing up.

Yami rushed forward and crashed into Ryou, his arms preventing the teen from being knocked to the ground as he pulled him into a ferocious hug. “I don’t understand you,” he whispered so only Ryou could hear. “You’ve been the brunt of so much cruelty and yet you can remain so giving and so selfless.”

Ryou’s arms wrapped around the spirit’s neck, holding him tightly, enjoying the contact that had been forbidden to him for so long.

Yami pulled back just long enough to place a gentle kiss on the teen’s lips. Genuine willpower was the only thing keeping his actions PG rated at the moment. He didn’t want to upset Yugi or make light of his other half’s confessed feelings toward him. “We’ll talk more later,” he said quietly. Ryou nodded. The pharaoh turned to Yugi. “So are you ready to get changed so we can go home?”

Yugi nodded apprehensively.

“Don’t worry Yugi, I’ll help you,” Ryou spoke up, knowing that Yugi’s hesitation stemmed from not wanting to upset Yami with the damaged state of his body.

Yami’s people skills may have been over three thousand years old but he was able to tell when he wasn’t wanted. “I’ll go find Dr. Moore and let him know you’re just about ready to go.”

“Thanks, Yami,” Yugi replied, flashing the spirit a smile, though not quite as bright as they used to be. He waited until the spirit left the room before letting it fade away. “Ryou,” he said seriously. “I need to tell you something.”

Ryou placed the dark grey sweat suit on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

Yugi took a deep breath. “I just want you to know that I’m happy for you and Yami. I don’t know if Yami told you but the night before…this…happened I sort of told him I had feelings for him…”

Ryou’s eyes opened wide. “No,” he said quickly. “He didn’t tell me.”

Yugi nodded. “I didn’t tell you to upset you,” he explained. “I want you to know though that I won’t try to come between the two of you. I think you are really good for him. Better than I could be anyway…especially now.”

Ryou mistook Yugi’s statement for self-consciousness. “Yugi, you won’t be like this forever. You’ll heal and be good as new. Just like me, huh?” he tried to laugh.

Yugi shook his head. It wasn’t the physical abnormalities that fueled his way of thinking. In an eerily morbid way he felt as though he had been marked. Like Bakura was a feral beast who’d claimed his body and marked it with his scent. “I don’t know how to describe it,” he said after a moment. “I just don’t feel like I can be with anyone now.”

Ryou nodded sympathetically. “You feel like everything you touch gets contaminated by the pollution inside you.”

“Yes, exactly,” Yugi stated. “You…you felt like this before?”

“Yeah,” Ryou said quickly. He picked up the oversized sweatshirt and unfolded it. “Let’s get you dressed, huh?”

Yugi knew he’d struck a nerve and didn’t want to press the issue. Instead he leaned forward and allowed Ryou to untie the strings holding the awful gown in place. His eyes remained glued to the teen’s hair, rolling the concept over in his mind. He came to the conclusion that the color looked good. It accented his pale skin, making him seem like a porcelain treasure with large brown eyes. The only other person who had done anything so meaningful for him was Joey. It pained him that the blonde couldn’t differentiate between Bakura, who was an absolute sadist, and this gentle soul who was dressing him tenderly and being ever-mindful of his privacy and inhibitions.

“Okay, Yugi, you need to stand so we can pull your pants up all the way. Otherwise your butt will be hanging out to the point where you may as well have just stuck with the gown.”

Yugi snickered and held up his arms, allowing Ryou to grasp hold of him and lower him slowly until his feet reached the tile. He took hold of the hem of the ultra-soft sweatpants and pulled them up carefully, grateful for their large size that wouldn’t cling to his wounds too tightly. “Thank you,” he said gratefully.

“No problem,” Ryou replied. “Do you want help getting back up?”

“No thanks,” Yugi replied. “I’d like to stand for a little longer. It’s been awhile.” They stood in companionable silence before Yugi spoke again. “Hey, Ryou?”

“Yeah?”

“You look really good.”

Ryou smiled at the shorter teen. “Thank you.”



Almost an hour later Yugi was pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse into the morning sunshine at the entrance to the hospital. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh air. Yami stood next to him, his arms full of bags and a large box filled with vases of flowers and cards that their friends had brought. Ryou had left a few minutes earlier to drive the car around to the front, bundles of balloons in tow.

They had to wait only a moment before the familiar sedan came to a careful stop next to the curb. Ryou stepped out and opened the back door, taking the box from Yami and sliding it across the seat to the other side. “Don’t open the trunk,” he warned. “Yugi’s balloons are squashed in there.”

Yami laughed and crawled into the back of the vehicle, placing the bags on the floorboard behind the driver’s seat. “Aibou, do you want to sit in the front or the back?” he called.

“In the front,” Yugi replied, his arms clutching the Dark Magician plushie Ryou had given him.

Ryou unlocked and opened the passenger door before stepping to Yugi’s side and helping him to stand. “You think you can get in on your own?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Yugi replied. He grasped the open door and used it as leverage as he slowly inched his way into the vehicle, Ryou standing behind him watchfully. “Okay, I’m in,” he said, a bit out of breath.

Ryou smiled and closed the door, making sure it was locked. “Thank you,” he said to the nurse. He returned to the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Everybody ready?”

“Yes,” the two chorused.

Ryou eased the car away from the curb and through the city streets of Domino, carefully avoiding bumps and potholes, not wanting to add to what was obviously an already painful ride for the small teen.

“Hey look,” Yugi said as they rounded the corner in front of the game shop.

The front walk was decorated with crepe paper and balloons were taped in a large cluster to the front door, cleverly concealing the wood paneling.

“Looks like you’ve got a welcome home brigade,” Ryou commented with a grin.

“Did you know about this?” Yugi asked each of them.

“Maybe,” Yami replied. “Are you upset?”

“No,” Yugi laughed.

“Then it was all my idea,” the spirit joked.

“It was not,” Ryou countered. “It was mine.”

Yugi laughed. “It was either Tea or Serenity,” he said.

Ryou and Yami locked eyes in the rearview mirror. The pharaoh winked. “It was Tea,” he admitted.

The raven haired teen pulled to a stop in front of the store amidst the vehicles of the guests. He was pleased to see that only Joey came out to greet them. A large group rushing at him was not what Yugi needed.

“Hey Yugi,” Joey said cheerfully. “Welcome home.”

Yugi unlocked his door and pushed it open. “Thanks,” he said with a smile.

Joey held out his hand and the small duelist grasped it, using the blonde for support as he eased out of the car. “You’ve got a bunch of presents in there with your name on them,” he revealed.

Yugi shook his head, his other hand reaching out for Ryou. “You didn’t have to do all of this,” he said.

Ryou took the hint and stepped forward, making contact with the unsteady teen.

“Whoa, shit,” Joey exclaimed. “Ryou? I didn’t even recognize you.”

“Then I accomplished what I set out for,” Ryou replied.

Yami came up behind them, again burdened down with bags and the large box. He staggered to the door and kicked it open. “Tristan!” He called. “I could use a hand here please!”

Duke appeared in the doorway. “He’s not here yet,” he said. “I’ll help you.” He took the box from Yami and started up the stairs. “How’s he doing?” he whispered.

“He’s in good spirits,” Yami replied, close on his heels. They bypassed the living room and went straight for Yugi’s room, setting everything on the dresser. “Thanks,” he said gratefully.

“Sure thing,” Duke replied, following the pharaoh back down the stairs under the guise of helping Yugi to climb them. Though neither of them mentioned it, they each wanted to get back to their respective boyfriends quickly so as to avoid any unnecessary confrontations.



Yugi reclined with Ryou in his makeshift nest on the pullout sofa listening to the chatter of his friends with only a minor amount of unease. He was propped against the teen’s chest, Ryou’s hand brushing through his hair with soothing slowness. His friends had really surprised him with the gathering. He sighed contentedly.

Ryou had not fared so well. The lavish attention that his new hair color had aroused had been quite overwhelming. Terribly shy and subservient by nature, he hadn’t known how to respond to the six new voices of praise and appreciation and had withdrawn from the room, claiming the need to use the restroom. As soon as he was alone Bakura had connected with him to check in. The scandalously smooth conversation that ensued managed to calm the teen down enough to return to the party where Yugi immediately insisted that he join him on the sofa.

Yami sat in one of the chairs near the door watching with a small smile as his loves took comfort in each other. He ignored the jealousy that each invoked within him however, grateful that they were able to find solace together in what could have been a very unpleasant morning had they been separated.

Joey was fuming. His anger though, was not directed at Ryou. Trying to appear as calm as possible he beckoned Tea into the kitchen.

“Where the fuck is he?” he snapped as soon as she appeared.

“I don’t know,” Tea replied. “I’ve tried calling his cell like a dozen times and he won’t answer.”

Joey’s hands clenched into fists. “This is crap,” he said angrily. “I don’t give a shit how much Kaiba doesn’t like us. That’s no reason for Tristan not to be here. Yugi needs his friends right now. Tristan not being here has got to be hard for him.”

“I know,” Tea replied sadly. “I can’t believe he didn’t show.”

“So what do we do then?”

“What CAN we do?” Tea countered.

Joey’s fist slammed onto the counter. “I’ll tell you what I can do,” he said. “I can go over to that pompous asshole’s mansion and drag him back kicking and screaming.” With that he stormed out the back door. His footsteps could be heard thundering down the stairs long after he disappeared from sight.




“So what exactly did Bakura promise you?” Tristan asked, holding a steaming spoonful of soup to Kaiba’s mouth.

The millionaire accepted the offering and swallowed quickly. “He said that if I helped him that he’d make sure Yugi never dueled again.”

“And what was his price? What did you have to do for him?”

Kaiba looked down. He’d been dreading this talk. “I had to help him abduct Yugi. He needed a driver.”

Tristan closed his eyes briefly. “Seto, what was your role in this? Did you know he was going to rape Yugi?”

“No,” Kaiba said without hesitation. “I didn’t even know he had until I saw Yugi in the hospital. I thought he was just going to threaten him, maybe rough him up a little bit.”

“So you weren’t there while Bakura was hurting him?”

“I wasn’t in the room, no.”

Tristan sat the bowl on the nightstand. “Then where were you?”

“Down the hall in my office.”

The brunette coughed. “You mean to say that this happened HERE?”

Kaiba nodded, unable to meet Tristan’s gaze. “Yes.”

“What about your servants? Don’t you think they heard what happened?”

“The room was soundproofed. Another of Bakura’s requests.”

“Okay, Seto. No more dancing around the issue. What exactly did you have to do for Bakura?”

Kaiba wanted nothing more than to reach out and take Tristan’s hand but he didn’t dare. “The chloroform, the ride, the soundproofed room, the supplies in the room, and my silence on the matter.”

“Supplies?”

“Yes,” Kaiba whispered. “Knives, whips, manacles, and the like.”

“Oh, my god.” Tristan stood up and began pacing. “I don’t know what to say, Seto.”

Kaiba pushed the blankets back and moved to stand, his impaired depth perception requiring two tries. He stumbled to his private bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before vomiting the little amount of soup that he’d been able to eat.

Tristan sighed. He felt like every molecule in his body was conflicted. He knew there was no way he could leave his lover. The CEO owned too much of his soul. But would he be able to keep such a secret from Yugi and Joey? Did he even want to?

The commode flushed and Kaiba came shuffling out of the bathroom. Instead of returning to the bed he made his way over to the brunette. “Tristan,” he said, his entire body doused in shame. “I will never be able to express to you how sorry I am that I had any part in this. I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. I was still stuck with the idea that I had to do anything I could to regain my champion status. I didn’t take the time to realize that it really doesn’t matter to me anymore. I’ve got…well, I had…everything I could have hoped for and then some with you.”

“Seto…”

“Let me finish, please,” Kaiba pleaded. “I’ll turn myself in. If that is what it will take for you to understand just how sorry I am I will go to the authorities and take full responsibility.”

“I don’t want that, Seto.”

“Then I’ll tell Yami. I’m sure he would love to use his magical mumbo jumbo on me to exact revenge for Yugi.”

“Seto, stop. I believe you when you say you are sorry. I’m just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that the man I love will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Even if it means almost killing one of my best friends.”

“That’s not true,” Kaiba said softly. “I didn’t know Bakura was going to take it so far. That freak has got issues that rival Gozaburo’s.”

“So you’re telling me that you only expected Bakura to scare Yugi. To frighten him into quitting.”

“Yes.”

Tristan looked at him skeptically. “Would you be willing to put my life on it?”

“Yes.”

Tristan closed the last remaining inches between them and pulled the CEO into a tender hug. “That’s relieving.”

Kaiba didn’t reply. Ignoring the facial pain, he pressed into Tristan’s shoulder, relief flowing through him like a river. The gap between them was far from bridged, but the foundation had been laid. Now there was nothing he wouldn’t do to regain his lover’s trust.

A loud knock on the door caused them both to jump. “Yes?” Tristan called.

Kenji peeked in. “Sorry to bother you both but a Mr. Joseph Wheeler is in the foyer demanding to see Tristan.”

“Oh shit,” Tristan replied. “Thank you,” he said to Kenji before turning to his lover. “I’d better go see what he wants before he barges up here. We can’t let him see you like this. It will make him ask too many questions.” He cupped Kaiba’s chin in his hand and brought their lips together softly. “Get back in bed,” he breathed. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Kaiba nodded and staggered back to the bed. Tristan took a deep breath and left the room.



Joey looked up to see Tristan descending the staircase. “So you ARE alive,” he stated flatly.

“Joey, come on,” Tristan replied.

“No,” the blonde snapped. “What the hell is your problem, man? Did you forget that Yugi went home this morning? Everyone is over there showing support but you.”

“Look, something important came up,” Tristan said, reigning in his anger.

“Important? What’s more important than our friendship?”

“Ugh, you sound like Tea.”

Joey bristled. “This is bullshit, man. Yugi would never have abandoned you like this and you fucking know it.”

“I didn’t abandon him,” Tristan replied hotly. “I told you. Something came up.”

“Oh? And what was so important that you left Yugi alone to wonder whether or not you still give a shit about him now that he can hardly do anything for himself?”

“It’s none of your business, Joey.”

“I don’t know where you’re coming from, Tristan. All I know is that everyone who cares about Yugi is over at the game shop right now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Take it however you want,” Joey replied. “I’m out of here.” He turned and stormed out of the mansion, leaving Tristan behind in a fit of rage drowning in a pool of his own guilt.

It was a full five minutes before the brunette was able to see through his anger. He knew that Joey was justified in everything that he had said. A fact that made him all the more angry. He should be with Yugi. He should be with Seto. Yugi. Seto. Yugi, Seto, Yugi, Seto, YugiSetoYugiSeto….

“GAH!” he shouted, silencing the voices in his head. He went back up the stairs, this time into Mokuba’s room.

Mokuba sat in an oversized inflatable chair staring out the window. He’d improved some in his responsiveness but had yet to utter a single syllable. If not for Li’s help it was doubtful he’d even get out of bed.

Tristan walked cautiously into the room. “Mokuba?” he said softly. No response. “Hey, it’s Tristan.” The conversational volume brought no result. “MOKUBA!”

Mokuba jumped slightly and turned around. His grey eyes blinked in question.

“Have you eaten?” No reply. “Are you hungry?” Nothing. Tristan sighed. He was at a loss. With a small smile he ducked out of the room.



Mokuba watched Tristan’s exit curiously. The only thing he’d heard out of the conversation was the brunette calling his name sharply. Everything else was lost in the nauseating ringing of his right ear and the absolute silence of his left.

He was tired. Sleep had ceased to revive him. He’d nod off for maybe ten minutes and wake up screaming as the bullet shot through his brother’s face, the sickeningly warm blood splattering over his own.

It was safe to say that sleep was not something that young Mokuba sought to obtain.

He surmised from Tristan’s body language that his brother had survived the attempt. Had he not the brunette wouldn’t be nearly as composed during his hourly visits. That alone was a relief.

Worry was still his constant companion. What if Seto did severe damage to himself? What if he is mad at me for trying to stop him? What if he had…died? Did he even stop to think of what would happen to me if he did? He of all people knows what happens in the orphanage. What if I was adopted by someone like Gozaburo? What if my ears don’t start working right again? What if Tristan wasn’t here for us?

It was a lot for a ten year-old mind to try to sort through. Mokuba’s intelligence had put him head and shoulders above the rest of his peers but his brother’s over protectiveness had shielded him from a lot of harsh truths. The very same ones that he had to deal with right now.

It was taking its toll on him. The what ifs and what nows. Mokuba had always taken great pains to model himself after his idol, his brother. It was painfully obvious to him now that Kaiba didn’t want to be alive. If that was the case, why should he? He would rather be dead than go back to the orphanage and end up with another perverted foster family. He’d rather be dead.

Hmm…interesting…