Carry On

Disclaimer: Plain and simple. I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

A/N: I love this chapter, and I hope you guys have a similar reaction. It was difficult to write, but I enjoyed writing it and am very pleased with the result. Let me know what you think!

Enjoy!

~ Ocean

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Mazin – Atemu’s brother
Azzam – Atemu’s dad (A and A to help keep it clear)
Arabic for Determined, resolved


Carry On
By Ocean

Chapter Sixteen – A Litany of Words

In his most humble opinion, Atemu was up shit creek due in no small part to his own efforts and he was getting nowhere fast.

He had been expecting some form of contact from his family ever since he’d received the letter from his brother, the one that had caused him to leave work early and storm home in the middle of the afternoon only to terrify Yuugi and send himself into another depressive spiral. There had been a moment of disbelief when the secretary had handed him the letter, for a moment Atemu forgetting the resourcefulness of his brother and how well the man knew his younger sibling. The surprise had passed quickly enough – of course Mazin would begin his search with the most successful business, he had taught his brother to aim high after all – and the mood evolved into one of hopeful dread. Hopeful dread that soon turned into raw anger as he’d read the words in his sibling’s rapid scrawl.

“He wants you home. Prepare yourself. – Mazin”

The end of Mazin’s signature jutted off in an awkward line, as though the writer had suddenly turned his attention and hadn’t had the time to correct the error before sealing the envelope and mailing the letter. Atemu didn’t know what he was to prepare for seeing as how any further warning had been conveniently left out, but if he knew his father, then he’d better make damn sure he had all his affairs in order before Azzam Mahdi made his presence known because he wasn’t going to be given a second chance to tie up loose ends.

This was the reason Atemu had tried to push Yuugi away, to make him see that holding on to the man he’d found so many weeks ago in a hotel was not worth the fireworks to come. He dearly wanted Yuugi to be happy, and he simply couldn’t see a way that he could make that happen. Not now. At one time he was willing to believe that he and Yuugi had a future, but not anymore. Not so long as he had family ties that just couldn’t be cut.

As things stood, Atemu had listened like the obedient child he’d been raised to be while his brother and father argued with each other in a manner that told him the words were old and stale. Neither had addressed him since their arrival in the game shop, Mazin having made the effort to learn enough Japanese to ask a dumbstruck Sugoroku where his brother was. Atemu himself had greeted his family with wide-eyed and jaw-dropping disbelief, guiding them into the backyard in a daze that had yet to leave him.

Mazin and Azzam suddenly turned to him in expectation, and as they continued to stare with uncomfortable scrutiny Atemu finally realized that he’d asked a question in Japanese instead of Arabic. The frown on his father’s face informed him that this had not been a wise mistake. Clearing his throat nervously, Atemu repeated himself.

“What are you doing here, father? I… wasn’t expecting to see you again.” He bit his tongue sharply once he’d spoken, berating himself for the blasted hesitation that proved to everyone present that he would always be intimidated by his father.

Azzam, a tall man with potent black hair and beard and mustache, hard bark-colored eyes that would cut diamonds if they were in his path, broad shoulders that shadowed both his sons, closed his eyes in long-suffering torment and turned to address his eldest child. “You hear the way he speaks to his father?”

“He means no disrespect, I assure you. My brother was simply unprepared for our visit.” Mazin kept his tone neutral, trying to prevent his father’s temper from rising and also to keep Atemu from feeling as though there were two against him in this confrontation.

“A man is always prepared for his family,” Azzam retorted. He turned sharply towards Atemu. “We are your family.”

“Of course you are!” Atemu said quickly.

“Despite what you’ve done to us.”

Atemu was too busy reeling from the verbal slap to notice his brother’s agitated – yet silent – groan at Azzam’s words. “Father, please.” It was as close to a reprimand as he dared.

Azzam looked at Mazin, fidgeting between the balls of his feet before relenting to his heir’s firm gaze. “Very well,” he conceded, straightening his spine after nodding curtly. He took a breath to calm himself as much as he was able, and then turned to face Atemu fully. His eyes traveled the length of Atemu’s body in judgment. “I trust you are well?”

Atemu opened his mouth to speak but found himself hesitating again before lowering his eyes to the ground. “I am comfortable, father.”

“I suppose that is a blessing,” Azzam said with difficulty, making an effort to restrain his anger. “One member of the family should be.” He ignored the fact that Atemu’s shoulders rounded on themselves with his words and continued with his forced politeness. “You are eating well? Though I honestly don’t see how you could be in this country.”

“Yes.”

“Your mother will be relieved, at least.”

An awkward silence descended on the trio, each man antsy in silent turmoil and contemplation. For Atemu this situation was all too familiar, and in fact had been one of the main reasons he had fled to the airport, handed over most of his life’s savings, and begged the woman behind the counter to buy him a ticket as far away from Egypt as possible. He’d been lucky enough to obtain a passport with little difficulty thanks mostly in part to his family’s ignorance of his intent to obtain one. The woman had taken pity on him and had tried to choose a country where the young man would at least have a chance to succeed, other than merely survive. Atemu dared a glance at his brother, momentarily raising his shoulders and inclining his head to communicate his confusion and need for assistance. Mazin angled his eyebrows in response, but didn’t do any more to aid him.

“Father…?” Atemu finally ventured, unable to take the strained silence any longer.

Shaken out of whatever thoughts he was entertaining Azzam answered, “You were blessed with a loyal sibling. All men should have such grace from Allah.”

Mazin offered a smile to Atemu. “I wished to see my little brother again.” I told you I missed you, he mouthed behind his father’s back, smirking when he saw the hint of a smile on his sibling’s lips, a smile that left all too quickly.

Azzam was not amused with the answer his eldest provided. “Mazin informed me to the conversation the two of you had before I entered the room,” he said, alluding to the phone call home Atemu had made while Yuugi’d been in Hawaii, “and I have been made to see that perhaps I have-… there may be another solution. If you are willing to be reasonable.”

Atemu’s features fell into a frown. He didn’t like the implication of what his father considered to be reasonable.

“Please, just listen,” Mazzin begged his brother, raising placating hands when he sensed Atemu’s defenses rise and his stubbornness leak to the surface of his temperament. “It cannot hurt to listen.”

Atemu eventually nodded his head, but it was a shaky movement that belied his suspicion.

“Return home with us,” Azzam said. “We will welcome you. However!” he said when Atemu’s eyes widened in shock to curb his son’s excitement. “However, there is much damage to be undone. You must go through the necessary customs to help the family reestablish its position.”

Atemu couldn’t believe his ears. Was he really hearing this? From his father? The man whose last words to him had been shouted in such anger and vilification and hatred and had informed him that he had been disowned in the most disgraceful way possible? And now, that same man was welcoming him back home? Even if the invitation was stained with stipulation. It was overwhelming to hear those words, and the pain, grief, and encompassing passion to see his homeland again, to be welcomed into the house of his birth and the arms of his mother, was enough to nearly send him to his knees in humble tears. Forget everything else that had happened in his life. He was being given the opportunity to go home. He still had a home, somewhere he belonged, a place he came from.

Home.

Atemu’s lips pulled back tightly against his teeth and his eyes creased as he tried to keep them open despite their eagerness to close and give in to the torrent of emotions in his heart. He continuously shook his head in small movements of disbelief, his hands fisting and opening repeatedly against his sides.

Mazin took pity on his brother, his own heart aching to see Atemu struggle with himself. The grief he’d heard in his brother’s voice over the phone had been enough to keep him awake at night for days, his wife’s gentle hands and soft words unable to purge the thoughts of isolation his sibling was experiencing, in no small part due to Mazin’s own selfish pride. He’d prayed for his brother to find peace in his heart; for his father and mother to let go of their anger and call Atemu home to them, for himself to find understanding of his brother’s ways and the wisdom to reason a solution to his family’s turmoil.

Walking forward and putting an arm around Atemu’s shoulders, his other hand pressing against the shoulder closest to him, Mazin hugged his brother with sibling comfort. “Compose yourself, little river,” he hushed, using the term of endearment to prove to Atemu his sincerity. The brothers both adored the Nile, but Mazin held it in esteem that could not be matched except by his adoration of his brother, and the nickname had naturally occurred. He leaned down and put his lips to his brother’s ear, pretending to be giving him a kiss to hide the words he whispered from their father. “You didn’t think I’d abandoned you did you?”

Atemu couldn’t help it and hated himself for it, but a quiet sob escaped him, for that was exactly what he’d believed. And though his heart was overcome with sensations of love and fear and the impending future, his mind was beginning to wake to the possibility that all was not as it seemed.

“Why?” Atemu asked without realizing the hard voice he heard was his own.

Azzam’s voice was gruff with near embarrassment at what he was about to say. “You’re brother is wise beyond his years, and it is time that your mother came out of mourning. And…” he added at the stern look Mazin gave him, “and… and your family needs you.”

Atemu felt Mazin’s hands grip his shoulders and he knew that his father hadn’t said what he was supposed to have said, which in all honesty didn’t surprise him, even in his emotional state. But that little part of his brain that wasn’t entirely convinced of the sincerity rebelled again and took control of his tongue without his permission.

“But you still haven’t told me what it is you expect me to do.”

Atemu ran his tongue along his top teeth and sucked. He fully blamed this defiant streak of his on Yuugi. Still, now that he had voiced the question, his curiosity was piqued and he increasingly wanted to know the answer. He didn’t pull away from his brother’s embrace, however, still not secure enough to stand on his own against his father and face what wrath might come.

“I would think that would be obvious,” Azzam said, bristling against his son’s flaring insolence.

Mazin felt Atemu’s body tense and his eyes widened in surprise. He squeezed his brother again, trying to signal him to calm down and remember himself. “Stop it,” he said quickly, and with more harshness than he’d intended. He flinched when Atemu’s eyes shot to him, and it wasn’t because of the irritation he saw, the defiance, or the speed of the movement. It was something else entirely that he’d always suspected his brother possessed but never thought would emerge.

“You’ll have to excuse me, father, but as you’ve told me many times I was not blessed with great intelligence,” Atemu said while still eyeing his brother, daring him to interrupt again. “I’ll have to ask for more specific direction.”

There was no way Azzam was going to tolerate such a belligerent comment, especially not from the son that had so disgraced him. “That has always been your problem! You do not know your place! How dare you speak to your father in such a tone? I have had enough your foolishness. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Mazin!”

Atemu knew that to be an outright lie because of the letter his brother had sent him. The fear of reprisal for his unwillingness to subject himself to his father’s will morphed into a frantic rush of energy that made him take all leave of his senses, forgetting propriety for the poignant and frightened response. He shook himself free of his brother’s now restraining hold and stepped towards his father.

“I knew my place but it wasn’t enough! It was never enough for you! I was never enough for you!” Atemu extended an arm to his side and pointed at Mazin. “When will you understand that I am not him and never can be? I cannot measure up to the perfection you hold him to!”

“That’s because you never try!” Azzam returned with equal fervor. “You’re a selfish child Atemu Mahdi, you always have been. You don’t give any consideration to your family or anyone else!”

Atemu gaped at his father before throwing his hands up in the air and turning as he walked a few steps away, showing the ultimate insult to Azzam by presenting his back to him. He continued to pace, crossing his arms painfully tight around his chest as though they were some kind of armor, hysterical giddiness building in his stomach with the knowledge that he had just destroyed any chance he’d had of going home because of his damned mouth. He wanted to laugh and cry, scream himself hoarse in frustration. All he managed to do was take fistfuls of hair and pull, successfully tearing out a few strands.

“Atemu what are you doing?!” Mazin asked with rushed, clipped words. “This is your chance to come home! I thought that’s what you wanted? Was it a lie?”

Atemu reeled on his brother, the only outlet safe enough to explode against. “No it wasn’t a lie! But don’t you see Mazin? The way he looks at me? I’m not good enough. Dammit, stop that!” he shouted, stomping his foot – not childishly, but in pure anger and futility – when Mazin spread his hands and agitatedly rolled his eyes. “You cannot tell me you are so blind as to not see it?!”

“Your waters run swiftly today, little river,” Mazin sighed, though the nickname did not hold near the endearment it had earlier. “You are emotional and are unaware of what you say.”

“You are unaware of all you do not wish to see,” Atemu retorted. “Makes life easier to live in the clouds, does it?”

“Silence, both of you!” Azzam roared, effectively bringing his sons’ attention to him, though it did take a moment for the two men to quit glaring at each other first. “I’ve had enough of this. Mazin,” he said, turning towards his eldest son, “do not lower yourself to him and waste your words. Atemu,” he emphasized his displeasure, “you stop this foolishness at once and come home. You will come home and you will marry the girl your mother and I have found for you and you will have many children and that is the end of it.” He fumed when Atemu opened his mouth to disagree. “I will hear no arguments! My decision is final. You have a responsibility to your family and you will take that responsibility even if I have to beat it into you.”

Atemu didn’t hesitate; fear induced bravado took control. “You’ll have to because I-”

Smack!

The sound echoed in his ears, joining with the stinging pain against his jaw as his hand flew to his face to cover the reddening skin. Eyes unfocused and downcast, Atemu was instantly reverted into the small little boy who had been beaten on a semi-regular basis for not living up to his family’s expectations, made to feel inferior and incompetent for his inabilities. Mazin stood stoically by his side, eyes distant, showing not disgust for his father’s action, but rather pity for his brother for invoking the punishment. Azzam was shaking in his rage, eyes wild and glued on his youngest son.

“You will come home and do as we tell you,” Azzam repeated, his voice rough from his shouting. “I will have my son, and I will have my grandsons, and that is the end of it. The end of this… this debauchery.”

“I’m gay,” Atemu said weakly. He didn’t know what made him say it; he didn’t feel any better for it, but there it was.

“You are not,” Azzam insisted. “You never were. You can stop the game because no one believes you.”

“Come brother,” Mazin said, reaching a hand towards Atemu. “We will help you be happy again. So we can all be happy again. You are alone here in this country. Who here would have you? Come home where you belong. Mother is anxious to see you.”

“A woman is waiting for you,” Azzam continued, sensing his victory the longer Atemu remained silent with eyes downcast and a hand covering his cheek. The fight had obviously left him. “Take comfort in her arms. It is the proper way. Come, do as your loving father and brother tell you. Come.”

Atemu felt the stinging, salty tears push against the back of his eyes. As much as he wanted to go home, he didn’t want to go home like this, but… but he was so tired, and homesick, and lonely for the acceptance of his family that he didn’t know how to resist. It wasn’t that the fight had left him. The fight had simply been cornered, alone and feeling helpless to repel an oppression that was sure to kill his spirit in time, slowly, bit by painful bit until all that was left was an obedient shell.

Perhaps he hadn’t grown as much as he’d thought during his time with Yuugi. He’d fooled himself into believing that he was stronger, even healed to a small degree, but here in the backyard he was revealed to be the helpless child that he was. If he was only strong, or only felt that he was strong, when Yuugi was around to protect him from himself, then what was the point? That wasn’t true strength. It wasn’t even close. And false strength, false confidence and pride born out of complete dependence on another disgusted him far more than consciously choosing to return home and do as his family wished of him.

He was in love with Yuugi. Loved him more than anything in the world. But that love could not overcome the faults Atemu saw in himself, the cracks that splintered and stretched and destroyed his very belief in himself. It wasn’t enough.

A few tears escaped his efforts to restrain them, trailing down his face and curving around the edge of his hand.

Love just wasn’t enough to save him. And that was the true defeat.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

When the conversation had faded and the three men stood huddled together at the far end of the yard, muted and isolated in a way that far transcended the fence that surrounded them, Yuugi walked through the screen door on the landing and made his way to them. He didn’t hurry or try to keep himself from being noticed, nor did he make any special attempts to be loud and bombastic. With quiet solemnity he strode, arms crossed loosely over his chest but his hands tightly gripping his arms, head lowered not in submission but in respectful thought. He walked around the older man who paid him no mind and came to stand behind Atemu, turning around so he could see the man’s back when he finally lifted his head. He acknowledged the man holding onto Atemu with a nod.

“Atemu?”

“Chnu?” Atemu moaned, his voice distant with fatigue and defeat. Yuugi only had to hear that single word to know the damage that had been done and he kicked himself for allowing it to happen before his eyes.

“They’re your family?” He made sure to keep his voice low and non-threatening, especially since he now had the other men’s full attention. Atemu nodded, lowering the hand from his face and letting his arms fall lifelessly to his sides. “I see.” Yuugi chewed on his tongue for a moment before asking if they understood Japanese, for some reason not surprised that they didn’t. The audacity to come into his home and scream at Atemu they way they had, Yuugi hadn’t believed they’d have the decency to attempt to learn the language of the country they were visiting.

Yuugi didn’t need Atemu or his mother or grandfather to explain to him what was going on. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen the vile nature of those who were homophobic and righteous in their cause to destroy those who were homosexual or thought themselves to be. Atemu’s behavior over the past week suddenly made a hell of a lot of sense to him, and he found he was easily able to forgive most of the treatment he’d received. The only thing he wasn’t ready to forgive was Atemu’s refusal to tell him that his family was coming. He couldn’t fathom why it had been kept a secret. Of course now wasn’t the time to confront him about it, but it wasn’t a matter Yuugi was going to allow to go unchallenged. Besides, that fear that had been chewing on his nerves had collected itself into the pit of his stomach and was idly laying in wait, as though the source for it had been found and it was waiting for further instruction.

“Would you translate something for me?” Yuugi asked.

Atemu didn’t respond in any way, shape or form for several moments before raising his arms, palms up, in the universal sign of whatever. When his brother asked what was going on he gave the edited reply of Yuugi wanting him to translate. He didn’t bother to explain who Yuugi was and this did little to improve himself in his family’s eyes.

“Okay,” Yuugi said, breathing to gather his thoughts and his nerves. “First, would you tell them… I mean, would you introduce me first? That would only be right.”

Atemu gave a long suffering sigh before speaking quickly in his native tongue, pointing behind himself with an extended arm at Yuugi when he spoke his Japanese name, then gesturing with a bit more restraint towards his father and brother, providing their names and their relationship to him. He then resumed his resolute stare at the ground, waiting for Yuugi to speak.

Yuugi’s brows furrowed in concern at Atemu’s clipped behavior, noting that the man was acting as though his personality had been switched off like a light. What an overbearing presence his brother and father must have to make him wither so in their shadows. Well, there was nothing left now but to move forward, he supposed. He didn’t have any reason to fear them as of yet.

“Would you tell them that I hope their flight over was good and that if they need anything while they’re here that I’ll help them, as will mom and grandpa?” Yuugi waited while Atemu gave his unenthusiastic translation, watching as Mazin gazed at himself with a bit more approval than before, but noticing Azzam’s increasing scrutiny. “Do they have a place to stay?”

Mazin answered this question with far more words than the “Yes” Atemu gave him. It was apparent he wasn’t going to be receiving any help from the man, and that not only was he going to be speaking to his family, but he was going to have to speak to Atemu as well. He swallowed reflexively at the pressure of the situation and the implications should he misspeak. But if this was possibly going to be the only time he would meet Atemu’s family, Yuugi wasn’t about to do anything other than be himself.

“And would you ask them to kindly keep their voices down when they’re attacking you? We really don’t need to give the neighbors anything to talk about.”

Atemu began to repeat the words but hesitated, suddenly realizing exactly what Yuugi was asking him to say. It was too late to stop though, so he quickly adlibbed something that sounded more like a request for restraint as opposed to the first lines of an attack. A smile tugged at the corner of Yuugi’s mouth; at least he had Atemu’s attention now.

Azzam’s eyes narrowed as Atemu spoke, and he gave his own reply with a gesture towards Yuugi. Atemu followed the movement with his head, keeping it turned so both his father and Yuugi could only see his profile. “My father wishes to know who you are to think…” he paused, frowning and casting a disapproving gaze to Azzam before relenting to his father’s forceful nod. “He wants to know why you think you have any right to comment on our family affairs.”

“I don’t,” Yuugi said, pleased when Atemu didn’t immediately translate his words. “But so long as he’s in my house he will conduct himself accordingly, and we do not stand outside and scream at our loved ones, nor do we strike them. I would suspect he’d demand the same respect to be shown in his own home.”

Yuugi had no way of knowing if Atemu translated his message word for word, but he sincerely doubted it when Azzam didn’t react with the level of indignation he’d expected from him. The man wasn’t pleased, certainly, but Yuugi suspected that Atemu had gotten his main point across about respecting another man’s home and that Azzam reluctantly agreed. A few moments later Atemu proved as much with his father’s answer.

Yuugi nodded at Azzam, indicating his forgiveness and willingness to move on to the next point. “As for who I am, I’m just a man who is in love with his son. I think that gives me a hell of a lot of right to know what is going on, especially when they’re hitting you in front of me.”

Atemu looked at him silently over his shoulder, though his eyes revealed nothing of what he was feeling. Eventually he shook his head, blinking against Yuugi’s words. “Yuugi, that will make no difference with them. In fact that’ll only make it worse. We don’t need to bring their attention onto you. You don’t want that.”

“If it’ll take some of the pressure off you it’s worth it,” Yuugi said with determination.

“No it isn’t!” Atemu spat, causing Yuugi to stiffen with agitation. “This has nothing to do with you.” He turned to look at his father, anger bubbling to the surface of his expression. “It all started the day I was born.”

“Then stop it,” Yuugi said. “Don’t let it continue.”

Atemu didn’t get the chance to say whatever choice words had formed on his tongue because Mazin suddenly barked at him, releasing his grip from his sibling’s shoulders and moving into a position where he could posture at Yuugi. He spoke in a manner that could only be deliberate, and Yuugi’s defenses rose when the man’s stance didn’t change despite Atemu’s denial of what had been said.

“Damn it, Yuugi, would you just go?” Atemu said, throwing his hands into the air in frustration and in an attempt to subtly gain Mazin’s attention. “You being here is only making it worse.”

“No way,” Yuugi said while he lowered his arms, freeing them for what might be coming. “I’m not leaving you alone with them.”

“I can handle my own family Yuugi.”

“No you can’t!”

The shout surprised everybody, and everyone stopped taking the small steps towards each other to stare at Yuugi expectantly. Yuugi felt the need to take a step back and distance himself from the family in front of him but restrained from doing so, instinct alerting him that the act would only weaken his position. He tried to corral his anger and put it to better use by pleading with Atemu to see reason.

“Please, Até, let me be here for you. You’ve been hiding from me all week and I can’t take it anymore! This is my one chance to be your support and I’m not going to give it up so you can save face! Look what they’re doing to you. They’re killing you!”

Atemu gasped at this last phrase, and Yuugi jumped on the opportunity to reach the man he loved. “You don’t know how you look right now. The fire in your eyes… it’s gone. Not just dimmer, but gone. It’s like your spirit’s just vanished.” He took a step forward, reaching out his hand to place it on Atemu’s bicep, trying to be mindful of the fact that any action more intimate may escalate the situation out of control. “It hurts to see you standing here so-! … so broken! And there isn’t a fucking thing I can do about it to help you because you won’t let me! Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“That’s because there isn’t anything you can do about this,” Atemu returned, a little too loudly. “You can’t wave a magic wand and undo a lifetime! You can’t make these people not my family, you can’t make me wish they weren’t my family, and you can’t change their minds simply because you want to!” Atemu roughly shook himself free of Yuugi’s grip and pointed at him. “When will you get it through your head that you aren’t the answer to everyone’s problems?!”

The words stung like an elongated paper cut and Yuugi shrunk away from them. No one was able to hurt him as deeply as Atemu, and this fact only served to prove to him how much he loved the Egyptian. “I don’t want to solve everyone’s problems,” he said quietly with his eyes downcast. He was finding it increasingly difficult not to cry, out of anger, frustration, fear and hurt combined. “Not anymore,” and he was shocked to find the admission to be true. He looked up at Atemu imploringly, pleading with him to see the honesty of his words. “I just want to love you.”

Atemu stared at him with wide eyes and opened mouth.

“I… just want to love you. That’s all I want. And I do.”

“Heba…” Atemu choked, his features falling into that of pained despair.

And that was the slip in Atemu’s façade that Azzam had been waiting for.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Atemu turned to his father when the man spoke in his low authoritative tone, his wide eyes once full of shock now filled with fear. Yuugi instantly interpreted the shift and took a step closer to Atemu in an unconscious gesture of protection. He could not have made a worse move.

“Atemu!” Azzam said through gritted teeth. His hands were fisted at his sides and he split his glare between his son and the insolent man that stood behind him. “Don’t tell me that you took your sin with you when you ran away from us like a coward!”

Atemu began shaking his head in denial, willing with all his might that his father had not made the connection he knew he had. “Father, please, you mustn’t-”

“How dare you!” Azzam shouted, loosing his temper completely. “Must you spread our shame worldwide before you are satisfied? And with this foreigner of all people? You couldn’t even choose someone of your own race?”

Atemu’s eyes narrowed at the insult, a spark of rebellion flaring at the attack on Yuugi. “What difference does it make who he is? I thought the fact that he’s male was all you cared about?”

“Brother be reasonable!” Mazin interrupted, stepping up beside him and ignoring the irritating Japanese man. “Do not lower yourself any further by feigning ignorance. The situation was bad enough back home when you tried to engage in these unholy relationships. Do you really not see how much worse it is that you continued to do so outside our homeland?”

“I didn’t continue anything,” Atemu said quickly in his own defense. “I keep telling you this is who I am. I cannot be at fault if the two of you are unwilling to listen!”

“We will not listen to your lies,” Azzam said. “I raised you to be an honest man and yet you insist on continuing with these lies.”

“What I feel is not a lie father. You will never convince me of that.”

This time it was Mazin who struck his brother, much too fast for either Atemu or Yuugi to prevent the action. Yuugi, not knowing the topic of the conversation – even though he had a pretty damn good guess – was knocked dumb with horror, unable to move. Mazin held his hand as though it were a possessed being that he did not recognize, his breaths coming in short, harsh gasps.

Azzam looked proud.

Atemu didn’t bother to raise a hand to his stinging cheek, keeping his head exactly at the angle it had been forced to.

“See how hard your brother fights for you?” Azzam said, his voice having lowered in confidence. “Do you see how unjustly loyal he is to you that he is willing to beat you if that’s what it takes to save you from your foolish choices?” He took a deep breath that expanded his chest and held himself tall. “Now, stop this phase you are going through and abandon the child and come home where you belong. There is no need for us to quarrel like this.”

Atemu cursed at Yuugi to be quiet when the younger man ventured to mention his name, not having the energy to deal with him and his family simultaneously. Mercifully Yuugi got the message and closed his mouth, though he didn’t back away and he certainly didn’t hide the enraged look on his face. That was loyalty, Atemu thought. Not this conditional shit that his father expressed, but Yuugi’s determination to stand by his side despite having been told that he wasn’t wanted or needed there.

“I agree, father,” Atemu said quietly. “I must stop this phase I am going through, have been going through my whole life. No good will come unless I do.” He lifted his head, eyes closed, before slowly opening them and leveling a look at his father that made the elder man scowl in defense. “It is time for us to part ways.”

“Atemu-”

“Permanently,” Atemu interrupted his brother. Sadness ate at him like a ravenous scavenger having discovered fresh meat, and he knew that if he didn’t keep speaking and get this over with he was forever going to be caught in the cage his family had built around him. “We are never going to agree, and there is no point in us continuously hurting each other like this. I love you and will always love you, but this is who I am, and that’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Think of what you’re saying!” Mazin begged, after having to try several times to get his mouth to work for him.

Atemu turned on his brother, the tears behind his eyes making them shimmer with redness in the afternoon light. “You think I say this lightly Mazin? You think I don’t understand the consequences?”

“You are so willing to abandon your homeland?” Azzam insisted.

“She abandoned me,” Atemu said with all the emotion he had stored since he’d fled Egypt those long months ago.

A tense moment of silence enveloped them, during which Yuugi walked forward and put both his hands on Atemu’s shuddering, heaving form while the man stared down his family, his past and his future. His movement caught Azzam’s eye and the elder man, irrational in the anger that boiled in his brain, made to lash out at him physically, Yuugi representing all that was shameful in the name of homosexuality in his eyes. Never did he expect that not only would Atemu be quick enough to block his attack, but that his son would have the nerve to interfere with his father at all. From the look in his son’s eyes as they watched each other, nose to nose because of the thwarted attack and Atemu’s painful grip on his wrist, Azzam realized that his son was ready to strike down his own father in defense of this foreign brat that shared his sin.

He wanted absolutely no part of it.

Breaking free of his son he turned his back on him, signaling his dismissal. “You are solely responsible for your mother’s grief. It will be her death. Come Mazin. We no longer business here.” Those were the last words Atemu ever heard his father speak.

Mazin didn’t initially hesitate, childhood training him to jump when his father used that tone. But indignation caused him to pause when he was halfway across the yard. He knew what this meant, and he knew the responsibility he was going to endure because of it, and a hatred for his brother he never fully appreciated welled to the surface and forced him to turn around.

“You brought this upon yourself,” he said bitterly.

Atemu nodded. “I did, brother. And I take responsibility. But do you, for the role you played?”

Mazin clenched his teeth together. “I am a man. Of course I do.” After a moment he sighed, deflated, and closed his eyes. “You realize I will not be able to contact you lest I receive the same fate?”

Atemu lowered his eyes to the grass at his feet, the impending loss pulling on him like gravity. “I do,” he whispered. “And I would give anything to make it not so.”

Fighting against his training, his beliefs, and his emotions, Mazin decided to follow in his brother’s footsteps if only for a moment and retraced his steps to his side, looking at him with saddened adoration.

“I will not be able to speak your name or acknowledge your existence but…” He gave in and pulled his brother into a fierce hug. “I will miss my little river.”

Atemu clung to Mazin tightly, desperate not to let go of his final moment of belonging to his brother. “I’m frightened, brother.”

“As am I,” Mazin said, finding himself unwilling to relinquish his hold. “Perhaps one day, when father is no longer burdened with this world…” He let the thought trail off into the possibility of the future, squeezing Atemu one last time before roughly shoving him away. It was the only way he could let go. He turned and made it to the steps of the porch, able not to turn around at the pained sound he heard, but unable to keep himself from looking over his shoulder one final time.

“I hope he is worth it, brother.”

Atemu shook his head. “You still don’t understand. I didn’t do this for him.”

Mazin nodded slowly before opening the screen door and walking inside, out of sight.

Atemu, overwhelmed with the enormity of what had just happened, still wasn’t able to allow himself to give in to the grief that was squeezing his heart with frightening intensity. He could feel Yuugi walk towards and reach for him, and it took all his concentration to step away from the hug Yuugi was trying to begin. Because this wasn’t the end of things, and as far as he was concerned, the situation was only going to get worse from here.

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to be continued…

Chun – Arabic for ‘What’