I Give My Heart To You

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yugioh or the characters therein, Honda automobile company, Nissan automobile company.

WARNINGS*** This story contains yaoi (men having sex with men) as well as shouenen-ai (male/ male relationships). It also contains male/ female sex and relationships with references to female/ female sex and relationships, (a little something for everyone) swearing, violence, references to rape, guns and all sorts of other facts of life people find offensive. If you are offended by any of these things or simply do not like to read about it then leave now; you have been warned and read at your own risk.

CHAPTER WARNING**THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A DOUBLE MURDER SCENE**

“Indicates normal speech of course”
{Yugi’s thoughts either to himself or Yami
{{Yami’s thought’s either to himself or Yugi}}
‘Thoughts of persons without a yami’


MY HEART I GIVE TO YOU
By Terra
Chapter 28

The driver of the red Honda looked carefully in both directions before easing the car forward into the intersection. He looked both ways again and checked his rearview mirror, wondering where the approaching siren-like sound was coming from. Suddenly, a tan car rocketed through the red light, lights flashing and horn blaring.

Joey prayed he wouldn’t get another red light, because if he did, he wasn’t stopping. “Hang on!” he yelled, taking another corner at breakneck speed. He hit the brakes, sliding the back end around, and praying he wouldn’t lose control. “Sorry, guys,” he called out when Amara whimpered.

“Just drive, pup.” Seto tightened his grip on Amara, holding her in place as the car straightened out. Amara grimaced, biting back a whimper as another cramp hit her. Never in his life had the powerful CEO of Kaiba Corp felt so completely helpless.

“There is the hospital ahead,” Yami calmly announced as Joey whipped around a slow moving truck.

Joey brought the car to a stop in front of a group of medical personnel headed up by Seto’s personal physician, Dr. Craig Ersoy. Never had they been more thankful for Seto’s ever present cell phone. Joey went to park the car as the medical team rushed Amara inside. Seto was filling Dr. Ersoy in on as much as he could about what had happened to the red head during the fight. After a quick reassurance, the doctor hurried to his patient and the group of worried teens drifted into the waiting area.

“Yugi and the others are on their way.”

“Thank you, Yami.” Seto continued staring down the hallway in Amara’s direction. He visibly winced, hearing her cry out.

“That fucker’s dead!” Bakura growled, rising from his seat.

“Yami, please, they aren’t hurting her, only examining her to find out how badly she’s hurt.”

Amara cried out again. “Think so?” Bakura’s eyes were murderous.

Yami placed a hand on Bakura’s shoulder. “Let the healers do what they must for her. Tend to your hikari, he needs you now.”

With a parting glare, Bakura sat down, pulling Ryou into his lap, holding him tightly and burying his face in his silky hair. The doors silently slid open, letting one very worried group of teens in to greet another.

“How is Amara, Yami?”

“Any news yet, big brother?”

Yami shook his head, taking Yugi into his arms. Seto started to speak but was cut short when a group of nurses wheeled Amara towards the elevators. Seto rushed over, intending to follow, only to be stopped by Dr. Ersoy.

“How is she?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Where are you taking her?”

“Please, I will answer all of your questions in a moment, but first I need some vital information.” Everyone held their breath, waiting for the doctor to continue. “Seto, do you happen to know if Amara is pregnant?”

Seto was, needless to say, stunned. “I-I do not know. Why?”

“She has excessive vaginal bleeding. I was hoping you could tell me if she was pregnant.”

“What’s her being pregnant got to do with anything, doc?” Joey frowned, not liking what the doctor was implying.

Craig Ersoy sighed; this was the one part of being a doctor he truly hated. “I’ll be frank. It would much better if she was losing an early pregnancy than if she has possible internal uterine injuries.”

“What exactly DO you know, doctor?” Seto asked.

“We preformed an ultrasound and there is a great deal of fluid in her uterus. That would explain the bleeding. We are taking her to surgery to determine the exact cause.”

“Aborted pregnancy or internal damage.” The fact the young CEO hadn’t asked a question but rather made a statement was not lost on the doctor. He nodded. “Will you be performing the examination?”

“I will be assisting. Once the surgery is completed, I will come directly to you, and let you know exactly what we found out.” Seto nodded. “If you will follow Nurse Atkins here, she will show you to the surgical floor waiting room.”

The group of worried friends watched the doctor leave, feeling as if he was taking a large part of their hearts with him. Seto was loath to admit it, but he had to place a large part of what made his life worth living in the doctor’s hands. He didn’t want to face life without Amara, he wasn’t sure if he could.

“If you all would follow me, please.” They turned to stare at the small, blue haired, smiling woman standing in front of them. “My name is Beth, and I’ll show you to our private waiting room and get you all settled.”

No one said a word as they followed Beth through the twisting corridors of the hospital. The nurse was used to that. They were holding their worst fears back so as not to tempt fate and who was she to question that. Once they were settled, with her pager number in case they had any questions or needs and a full pot of fresh coffee, she quietly left them.

Seto sat in a corner chair, holding his sleeping little brother. He glanced around the room, looking closely at his friends. Yugi sat in Yami’s lap, his head in the crook of the former ruler’s neck. They both had the vacant stare of communicating through their shared link. The fact that the smaller’s face was tear streaked was not lost on the CEO. Bakura had his face hidden in his sleeping light’s hair. Seto suspected it was to hide the tears the thief was trying not to shed. Joey was sitting on one of the sofas, leaning against Tristan, their arms wrapped around each other. Malik and Otogi shared the other. Seto noticed Malik’s arm was draped around the back of their seat and Otogi was leaning against the Egyptian. He smiled, knowing Amara would approve.

He shifted to glance at the wall clock and sighed. They had been waiting an hour. Seto hated waiting. Waiting made him feel helpless, as if he had no control over whatever the situation was, which the exact case was now. He hated feeling helpless, dependant of others. He swore he would never be dependant on another when he took control of Kaiba Corp. He would create his own destiny, be the master of his fate... so much for that one.

Mokuba whimpered softly in his sleep. Seto shook himself mentally, realizing he had been slowly tightening his hold on the boy. He kissed the raven hair, vowing to forever keep those he loved safe from harm. He knew it would be an impossible task. He couldn’t watch over them every moment of every day. Yet, he was still determined to try. They had said he would never make Kaiba Corp the corporate giant it now was when he took control; that it would be impossible for a mere child to stand up to mature businessmen and triumph. He had succeeded in that, where failure meant he would only lose his company. He had to succeed in keeping his loved ones safe; failure at that would cost him his reason for living.

He turned towards the door when he heard the doorknob rattle, lightly tapping Mokuba awake.

“Tris, doc’s here,” Joey said softly.

Dr. Ersoy waited patiently for the sleepy teens to become more aware before he began. “Seto, I’m sorry to tell you, Amara was pregnant.”

Several of the group inhaled sharply. Outwardly, Seto showed no reaction, but Mokuba felt his brother stiffen.

“We had to complete the miscarriage to determine if there was any internal damage. Thankfully, there wasn’t. We can only estimate she was about a month along and should heal in the time of her normal cycle. I will schedule her for a follow-up exam around that time to be certain.”

Craig waited for what the group to grasp what he had said and the inevitable questions he knew were coming.

“Will Amara be able to have more children?”

Craig nodded. “Yes, there is some deep muscular bruising of her abdomen, and she will be sore for several days, but there is no indication she shouldn’t be able to have several more healthy and uneventful pregnancies. I do strongly recommend she not have intercourse until after her follow-up exam though.”

Seto nodded briefly, acknowledging the doctor’s statement.

“She-she’s going to be alright, isn’t she, doctor?”

Craig turned to Ryou. “Yes,” he smiled gently at the young man. “She is on her way to her room now. I wanted to wait until she was out of recovery before I came to speak with you.”

“Can we see her?”

“Of course, I can take you there now. She maybe asleep again, or somewhat groggy, but she will be fully aware by morning. If she is feeling well enough and there are no complications, she can go home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ersoy,” Seto bowed respectfully.

“I will be available to you if you have any further questions,” he returned the CEO’s bow. “And I will be by to check on Amara first thing in the morning. Now, if you would follow me, I’ll gladly take you to her.”

Bakura was talking softly to Yami as they followed the doctor to Amara’s room. Seto glanced at their lights and from their lack of reaction, correctly assumed the two yamis were blocking them. Knowing Bakura as he did and the thief’s fierce protective streak towards his adopted sister, what they were most likely planning would suit well with what the CEO was going to ask of them.

Amara was asleep when they entered. Dr. Ersoy checked her vitals and the monitor readings then left, once again promising to return in the morning. Seto gently pushed Amara’s mussed hair back from her face, surprised to see the slight trembling of his fingers.

“Seto, can I stay here until she wakes up?” Mokuba softly asked.

“Yes,” he smiled reassuringly at his little brother. “We can all stay here until Amara wakes up.”

“Not me, rich-boy. I got ... shit ... to do. Don’t we, Pharaoh?” The duelist nodded solemnly.

Seto gazed from one yami to the other and back again. “I want is painful, ugly, and absolute.”

Bakura nodded and walked to Ryou. “Stay here until I get back, hikari,” he kissed Ryou fiercely and turned to go, stopped by a touch from his light.

“Make them pay, yami.”

Bakura smiled. “I will,” he kissed Ryou again. “Come on, Pharaoh. Nighttime’s wasting.”

Yami turned to follow the tomb robber to the door.

“Yami?”

Yami stopped. The look in Yugi’s amethyst eyes almost broke the dark spirit’s resolve, almost, but not quite. “Yugi, little one, I am the darker side of your soul. I have had to make many difficult choices in the past, many times, and I have the same potential for evil as Bakura. I love Amara as well; the loss of her child must be avenged.”

Yugi nodded. “Get a piece for me too, Yami, and ... be careful.”

Yami nodded, kissed his other gently, and followed the tomb robber out of the room.

“If it was anyone else, I’d pity them,” Joey said, staring at the door and leaning on Tristan. “I hope they need sponges to pick up whatever’s left.”

Otogi glanced over to see Malik standing rigid, teeth clenched, fists balled so tightly his knuckles were white. He knew from his experience during Battle City, Malik was struggling to contain his darker self, Marik.

He walked over unsure what to do to help his friend with his internal struggle. He reached out his hand, stopping short of touching the blond’s shoulder. Doubts assailed his mind. What could he do to help Malik contain Marik? Would his intentions to help actually bring forth the Egyptian’s darker side? How could they defeat the dark spirit with Yami and Bakura gone?

A barely heard whimper from Malik pushed every doubt aside. Otogi laid his hand on Malik’s shoulder. “Malik?” The blond looked up; his eyes were a swirl of red and amethyst. “It’ll be alright, Malik. Come on,” he said softly. “You’re stronger than he is.”

Otogi held Malik’s eyes as the blond’s body began to relax; his eyes began to lose the red tint, returning to their normal purple hue. The rage left Malik’s eyes, replaced by relief and gratitude. “Thanks, Togi,” he whispered.

Otogi said nothing; he pulled Malik into a one armed hug and led him to the sofa, sitting them down beside Joey and Tristan.

Seto watched the entire scenario play out. He made a mental note to speak with Malik about his darker side later. He walked over to Mokuba, asleep in the window bed and covered the boy with a blanket. He pulled a chair closer to Amara’s bed and sat down, glancing over to the dozing quartet on the sofa. They seemed comfortable enough, sprawled out over one another. The two lights holding each other in the oversized chair brought a small smile to his lips. Seto took Amara’s hand and settled himself for the long night ahead. Gods, how he hated waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakura looked around the warehouse, zeroing in on the faint trail of utter terror left behind by their prey. “This way, Pharaoh.”

Yami followed silently as Bakura led the way outside to the curb. The stench of fear suddenly became overwhelming to the two spirits.

“They took the van they brought them here in,” the thief growled. “Hard, but not impossible.”

Yami nodded, pulling a card from his deck. A gigantic wolf, the color of moonlight suddenly appeared, patiently waiting for his master’s command. Yami smiled at the wolf, scratching behind his ears affectionately. “Silver Fang, my loyal pet, find the mortals of whom we seek.”

With an excited yip, Silver Fang sniffed around the area where the van had been parked. He stopped to sniff the air, wagging his tail. He trotted a few steps down the sidewalk then turned to bark once, indicating they were to follow.

Bakura looked at Yami, grinning and licking his dagger. “Let’s hunt.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Across the street from a run down, ramshackle, old house, Bakura sat on the hood of a green Nissan scratching glyphs into the chipped paint with his dagger. Yami stood beside him, leaning against the door, petting Silver Fang.

“They deserve to die. They’re fucking idiots.”

“Mortals would not have had the ability to track them, Bakura. They would have successfully escaped.”

“Who needs Ra damned ability? All they have to do is open their eyes; they only went five blocks over and ten blocks up!”

“Mortal authorities would have had little or no information, and this location is far beyond where Ryou and Amara were being held.”

“They need to kill their fucking authorities too. Guess we’re doing them a favor then.” With a final scrape, Bakura jumped off the car. “How we gonna do this?” he asked, wiping the paint chips from his blade.

Yami glanced over at Bakura’s “artwork” raising his eyebrow questioningly.

“What?”

“Bakura, I was ONCE the Son of Ra. I am not currently. And either way, I very much doubt I would ‘open a can of whoop ass’ and ‘rain my divine shit’ down upon the ‘fucking bastard mortals’ who ‘injured the royal lineage’ of the ‘illustrious King of Thieves of all times past and present’. And even if I were to have made such a declaration, I would not have sealed the decree ‘The Mighty Pharaoh, Son of Ra, Who Commands All to Bow Down and Worship his Mighty Cock that Spews Life Upon the Barren Wastelands of the Sacred Hole of Pleasure’.”

Bakura shrugged, “Like anyone now can read it.”

Yami bit back a chuckle, but let a small smile pass over his lips. He had long since become used to Bakura’s humor, and never having held with the pompous attitudes of royalty, had often made such comments in private about his title.

“We must secure all exits from the building.”

Bakura tapped the top of his deck, bringing a dozen fiends to his command. “Nothing goes in or comes out but me and the Pharaoh. Understand?”

They nodded in unison then moved to surround the building, standing or hovering at ever door and window.

“You have served me well, Silver Fang. Return now.” Once the wolf had vanished, Yami shuffled through his cards, finally selecting one. “Swords of Concealing Light. We do not wish to be interrupted,” he answered Bakura’s questioning look.

Bakura grinned, obviously becoming impressed with this side of Yami he had never seen before.

The two spirits strode across the silent street. Bakura turned the doorknob, shaking his head when the door swung open on rusted hinges. “Idiot fuckers,” he mumbled. “Killing them’s doing them a favor.”

Inside, the house was filthy, discarded food containers lay all over the floor amongst old clothing, molded beverage cans and bottles, and crushed foam cups.

“Some security system,” Bakura sneered as he and Yami moved silently over the debris. Yami looked left to see what was once a kitchen, but now seemed to be nothing more than a home for rats, cockroaches, and other scavenging vermin. He turned away at a soft hiss from Bakura.

At the end of the hallway, their prey lay sprawled out on a filthy, heavily stained sofa, a battered television was sitting at a precarious angle on a broken table, the screech of a station gone off the air battled to be heard over the snoring coming from the sofa.

“Mortals make it too fucking easy,” Bakura sighed in mock sadness. “Which one you want, Pharaoh?”

“It matters not, choose your victim and I shall take the other.”

“Fine. I want that fucker who hit my little sister.”

Yami nodded and moved into position beside the one chosen to feel the wrath of Pharaoh as Bakura crouched next to his victim. Bakura inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly so his breath drifted across the sleeping man’s face. The man shivered as if caressed by a cold hand. Yami watched passively as Bakura played with his victim as a hungry cat would it’s next intended meal. There was no need to hurry, they had found the ones guilty for Amara’s loss and they would pay, painfully. Truthfully, Yami was more than happy to wait, letting his prey watch as Bakura killed his partner. It would only add to that one’s fear and in turn Yami’s enjoyment as he killed the man.

“Ra, they sleep like the fucking dead.” Yami shrugged in response. “We can’t have any fun if they aren’t going to fucking cooperate, Ra damn it,” Bakura growled.

With a wave of his hand, Yami sent the television to the Shadow Realm. The sleeping men shifted and stopped snoring with the loss of the noise. Bakura grinned.

“Wakie, wakie, meat. Death’s come a’callin for youuuuu,” he whispered in the man’s ear beside him.

The man’s eyes flew open. He stared at Bakura’s evilly grinning face scant inches from his own then lunged forward, reaching for a gun lying on the coffee table. His partner was jerked awake by his bloodcurdling scream, when Bakura drove a dagger through his hand, pinning it to the table mere inches from the gun. Yami grabbed his confused partner at the juncture of neck and shoulder when he tried to sit up, all but paralyzing him.

“Remember me, meat? I was there when you beat that red haired girl. You’ll be happy to know, she survived, but unfortunately for you, she lost her baby,” a sneer twisted his face. “She is my sister, and I have come to pass judgment and claim vengeance on you.”

The man whimpered as the full impact of Bakura’s words sank in. He was a dead man and knew it. Desperate, he lunged forward, grabbing for the dagger pinning his hand. Bakura watched, slightly amused, as his victim struggled to pull it free from the thick wood of the table. He pulled a second, longer dagger from the inside of his boot, driving it through both hands and into the table.

Screams of pain tore from his throat.

“Fuck, meat, don’t you ever shut up whining?” Bakura looked around, picking up a piece of stiff, dusty of cloth lying on the floor. “Maid quit?” he asked, rolling it into a ball. “Be quiet for Ra’s sake!” he shoved the filth covered sock far into the man’s mouth, muffling his screams. “Finally! I couldn’t hear myself think.”

“What to do with you? What to do with you?” Bakura ran the tip of yet another dagger along the edge of the man’s face, leaving a thin red line in it’s wake, tapping him twice under the chin.

“L-let us g-go,” the man’s partner tried in vain to find his courage. “We g-got people who’ll........ c-come after you.”

Bakura narrowed his eyes. “I seriously doubt that.”

Yami increased the pressure on his captive’s neck slightly. “I would recommend you be silent. Bakura does not like to be disturbed during the practice of his ... art.”

“Pharaoh, I’m hating you less and less every year,” Bakura smirked. “Now, where was I?” he pressed the tip of his dagger into the underside of the gagged man’s chin, lifting his head up. “Oh, yeah, killing you.”

Bakura chuckled at the fear in his victim’s eyes. He trailed the blade under his chin and down his throat, catching the razor sharp blade in the top of his shirt and slicing it open. With a flick of his wrist, he cut through the hem then frowned as he tested the edge on his thumb. “You mortals never heard of linen? This shit dulls my daggers.” He shrugged, “Oh well, just one more thing to kill you for.”

Yami leaned over then glanced up, raising a questioning eyebrow at the white haired fiend.

“What!?”

“You missed a spot,” Yami nodded towards the man’s torso.

Scowling, Bakura looked over to see an inch long break in the perfectly straight red line running from the bottom of the man’s neck to the top of his pants. With a flick of his wrist, in a fraction of a second, the break filled in with the same red color.

“Happy, Pharaoh?”

“Yes.” Yami smirked.

“Fucking pain in the Ra damned ass, you royal cock sucking prick,” Bakura growled as he none too gently tugged the ruined shirt over it’s owner’s head. “Hmm....” he stared, somewhat perplexed at the man’s hands pinned to the table with his daggers. “I probably can’t get them back that way if I pull them out, huh?”

Yami shrugged slightly.

Waving his hand, the shirt vanished. “Always the fucking details,” Bakura sighed heavily. “How to get those pants off?” The fiend frowned in mock concentration. “Oh, Steel Ogre...” he said in a sing-song voice.

The two mortals whimpered in fear as they watched in disbelief as a huge metal giant stepped through a swirl of black and purple mist. Yami seriously doubted their violent trembling was from the sudden drop in temperature alone.

“Hold that table up, and if you shake the meat loose, I’m carving YOU.”

The giant bowed in acknowledgement then carefully lifted the table, pulling the man up to stand on the balls of his feet. Ogre glanced under the table at Bakura. The thief made a slight lowering motion with his hand, giving a thumb’s up when his captive stood flat footed. He took a step closer, jumping back as said captive’s foot darted out at him. Bakura snarled in anger, producing two more daggers and anchoring the man’s feet to the floor.

“Exactly how many daggers do you carry, Bakura?”

“Why don’t you go searching and find out?”

Yami smiled thoughtfully, pondering the hidden meaning in the thief’s words.

“Back to business,” Bakura slipped his blade under the man’s waistband. The double edged blade sliced through the leather belt and heavy denim as easily as it did the man’s flesh. He snickered when he saw the man’s boxers; black with skulls the color of dried blood. He quickly sliced through the nylon, running the dagger’s tip down his captive’s limp member.

“Don’t worry, meat,” he sneered, watching as his prisoner tried in vain to pull away from the deadly metal. “I’ll leave you tiny dick in one piece, after all, you didn’t rape her.” He drew his hand back, grinning evilly. “You just hit her in her stomach...here,” he buried his dagger in the man’s abdomen up to the hilt.

Tears of fear and pain streamed from his eyes as he tried to scream around the gag in his mouth.

“What you’re feeling now is what little sister will be feeling when she wakes up, pain at losing her baby,” Bakura twisted the dagger. “And fear that she may not be able to have any more,” he pulled the blade out, angled it down before thrusting it back it in.

Yami grimace in disgust when he caught the unmistakable scent of urine. The captive on the sofa had wet himself.

“Do you know what they would have had to do IF you had hurt her womb?” Bakura growled. “I asked my light. He said they would have had to cut her open. Just ... like ... this...,” he sliced through skin, muscle, and internal organs as he pulled the blade from one side of his victims lower abdomen to the other. “And they would have had to remove her womb,” he plunged his fist into the open wound, forcefully yanking entrails out. “That looks a little painful to me, meat. Is it?”

Bakura nonchalantly wiped the blood from his hand, ignoring the screams and whimpers from the captives.

“Lucky for you, they didn’t have to do that. All that you did was cause her to lose her baby, the next generation of her line... of mine. Do you know what that means, meat?” Bakura grabbed the man’s throat, squeezing painfully when he got no response. “Do you?”

The man shook his head as best he could.

“I’ll show you.” After a quick motion of Bakura’s hand, both captives were soon watching two round fleshy objects roll and bounce along the floor. “I told you I’d leave you cock alone. Never said anything about your balls.”

“Hey, Pharaoh, you had a harem. If a woman is nursing a kid and loses her womb, can she still feed her baby? My light didn’t know.”

Calling upon his royal upbringing, Yami managed to keep a straight face at the serious look on Bakura’s face. “I do not know. It was not a situation presented to me in my lifetime.”

Bakura shrugged. “He did say all that worked together when a woman’s pregnant. Wonder how he knew that? But, for the sake of the discussion, let’s say little sister would have lost her milk.”

“That would be a logical conclusion. One of my concubines did lose her milk when she lost her child at birth.”

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you just say so?!”

“You asked if the woman lost her WOMB, not her child.”

Yami heard Bakura mutter something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Fucking Pharaoh.”

The man whimpered as Bakura came closer to him. He tried to beg for his life around the gag in his mouth, to beg for mercy, apologize for what he had done, to explain that he had been under orders, knowing deep in his dying heart his pleas would only fall on the deaf ears and cold uncaring heart of the devil himself.

“Little sister has a baby, meat, but I’m sure you know that. If she lost her milk, how could she feed her?” A whimper was his only response. “She would have useless breasts, her baby... MY niece... would have starved to death.”

Yami wondered briefly if Bakura knew there were other methods to feed an infant in this era than having the child nurse from a lactating woman. Then again, considering the thief’s love of Amara and rage over the loss of her child, he doubted very much Bakura would care.

Bakura pierced his captive’s skin, just under the arm, bringing the blade down and curving under his pectoral and back up to the top center of his chest then back down, curving under and going back up to beneath the other arm. He finished his handiwork by cutting straight across the man’s chest from arm to arm.

“Hang onto this for me, would ya?” Bakura slammed his dagger clean up to the hilt into the man’s thigh.

The captive screamed and whimpered, trying to twist away as Bakura dug his fingers into his side up under the cut skin. “Know what it feels like to a woman to have useless breasts with a baby to feed?” With a snarl, he ripped the skin away, tossing it behind him. “That hurts, huh?” He tore away the other side of his victim’s chest. “Now, you do.”

Yami was impressed, and from the way his captive on the sofa was whimpering and sobbing, so was he but not in the same manner as the once Pharaoh.

“Fucking weak ass mortals got no damned stamina. Bastard’s passed out,” Bakura slapped the man’s face hard until he got a weak whimper.

“Now, you know how little sister feels. I don’t think you really care, though. Want to know why?” Bakura waited a moment before continuing. “Because you have never breathed life into someone!” He stabbed his dying victim between his ribs on each side of his body, piercing each lung. He waited patiently, until his captive began to wheeze.

“The reason you haven’t is because your heart is as black and as cold as the Shadow Realm. Nothing lives inside it, not love, not kindness. Nothing,” an evil smile twisted Bakura’s lips. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

He didn’t feel the dagger plunge into his side, cutting through skin, muscle, and internal organs as it sliced a perfect arc under his ribcage. He felt a slight discomfort as Bakura rammed his fist into the gaping cavity and squeezed his heart. He didn’t so much as twitch as it was pulled from his chest. He heard faint far off sounds of someone talking over the pounding in his ears. He blinked once before giving in to the exhaustion he felt and closed his eyes. Before consciousness left him, one clear thought crossed his mind.

‘He’s right. It is black.’

“Nighty night, meat,” Bakura dropped the unidentifiable mass of flesh from his fist. “Ra! Fucking mortals are so damned messy!” he shook his hand, slinging drops of slowly congealing blood across the room.

Yami’s captive’s eyes followed a single drop through the air to land beside him on the sofa. He sobbed pitifully, trying to move away.

“Your turn, Pharaoh,” Bakura wiped the blood from his hands with the ruined jeans of his captive.

“Should you not ... tidy up... first?”

Bakura looked around, as if seeing the dead man for the first time. “Yeah, guess so,” he pulled his daggers from the man’s feet. “Grab that for me, Ogre,” he pulled the two from the man’s hands, letting his body fall into the monster’s hand. “Just drop it anywhere.”

“Bakura...”

“Fine. Fine. Fucking Pharaoh,” he grumbled. “Take that off and do something with it, Ogre. Would ya?”

With a bow, the monster vanished in the same swirl of black and purple that had brought him, taking the body of Bakura’s latest victim with him.

“Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Bakura rolled his eyes. “Whatever!”

Yami moved around to face his soon to be victim. “I must say, I do agree with you, Bakura. They both must suffer the pain they caused your sister.”

“I-I didn’t h-hurt her!”

“Perhaps not, yet, you stood by and allowed your cohorts to harm her and did nothing. That is also inexcusable; however, Pharaoh is not unjust. Your punishment shall be in accordance with the wrongs you committed.”

Bakura couldn’t help but smirk at what was blatantly obvious to him but was completely lost on the soon to be dead man.

“You claim not to have harmed her?” The man nodded. “That you did not lift a hand against her?” Again, he nodded. “You stood by as if bound?” More agreement. “If that is the case, you shall be bound.” Yami waved his hand, opening a portal to the Shadow Realm, “Wandering Mummy, Pharaoh summons you.”

A new portal opened, letting a decayed, rag bound, man-shaped creature shuffle through.

“Bind him.”

Yami’s captive jerked up off the sofa as if by some unseen force. He twisted and turned as tattered wrappings sprang from the mummy’s body, binding him tightly. The ragged, rotten wrappings were strong. He felt them tightening around his chest and began to struggle and scream. He almost bit the tip of his tongue off when a strip of cloth wrapped itself around his head, clamping his mouth closed. When the mummy began to shuffle back through the portal, only his eyes and nose were free of bindings.

“All dressed up with no place to go, eh, meat?” Bakura grinned evilly, licking the dried blood from his dagger.

“By you own admission, you claim to have stood by, doing nothing to harm the girl. That being the truth, you will be punished for what you did.” Yami stood in front of his captive, every bit Pharaoh passing judgment. “Long ago, when someone committed a crime, he was duly punished. If someone was murdered, their killer’s life was forfeit. If something was stolen, the thief lost his hands.”

“If the fat ass royal guard could even catch him you mean.”

Yami let Bakura’s comment pass.

“Since you claim to have only watched, you shall no longer watch another be harmed.” Yami pulled a card from his deck, holding it in front of his captive’s eyes. “Light of Judgment, carry out Pharaoh’s command. Remove his sight.”

He screamed through the bindings over his mouth, trying to turn his face away from the glowing card and clenching his eyes as tightly closed as was humanly possible. The light brightened. He began to see bright spots blending together into a brilliant white light. He briefly wondered why he felt no heat as the light increased, then a wave of triumph swept over him as the light began to fade.

He tried to grin in defiance. The light was gone and he had won. He blinked once, paused, and then blinked rapidly several times. He began to panic. He couldn’t see, no light, no blurs of color, nothing. He was blind.

Yami felt a great deal of satisfaction watching his captive as realization dawned on him.

Bakura wouldn’t admit it, but he was slightly impressed. The Pharaoh had a wicked ass vengeful streak. He could appreciate that.

“You also said nothing to stop the harm being caused to the girl.” The captive began to struggle against his bounds. “Guardian Kay’est, bring to me your Rod of Silence.”

Bakura watched with bored interest as the guardian exited the portal, moving in an undulating manner on his tail.

“Silence him forever,” Yami commanded.

He couldn’t see. He couldn’t run. And he KNEW something bad was going to happen to him, something very VERY bad. He felt the cold touch of metal to his throat and whimpered, only to hear the sound stop short.

Yami nodded to Kay’est, silently dismissing the guardian.

“You had to know she was frightened. Mortal fear reeks, even mortals can sense it. You will no longer be troubled by that stench,” Yami paused, letting his victim realize what was about to happen to him. “Flame Cerebrus.”

He smelt something burning, hair certainly, and flesh. He had smelled flesh burn when he had been hired to burn a man alive for denying their boss. He snorted, trying to clear his nose, but each time he inhaled, the stench became worse. His nose began to sting and burn. He coughed, sneezed, but the stink grew. He couldn’t escape it; it was all he could smell.

“The stench now filling your lungs may fade in time. If so, you will never smell anything again. If not, it will be all you smell for the rest of your life.”

He began to panic. They were taking his senses! He couldn’t see, speak, or smell anymore. What would happen to him when they took his touch and hearing away? Would they leave him alive? That thought more than terrified him; that was a fate far worse than death. Suddenly, he envied his dead partner. He would gladly endure that kind of pain to not have to spend the rest of his life without any senses.

Yami smirked. His victim had suddenly realized what was happening.

“Pharaoh, I grossly underestimated you,” Bakura grinned. “You can be as much of a bad ass as me when you want to be.”

“I am not yet finished with him.” Yami stepped closer to his victim. “I will not take your hearing nor you ability to feel from you. I am not without mercy.” The corners of his mouth twitched when he caught the glare Bakura shot him. “Coffin Seller, Pharaoh has need of your wares.”

A cloaked man stepped through the portal, carrying a man sized coffin on his back. He set it down with a thump, bowed and left.

Bakura raised a questioning eyebrow but said nothing.

“Gravekeeper’s Vassal.” A small ferret looking man stepped out of the portal, bowing low. “Place the mummy within his new home.”

He felt himself lifted by small but strong arms and dumped none too gently onto wood. He felt the hardness all around him, touching his head, feet, and shoulders. He had always wondered what it felt like to be inside a coffin. He suddenly regretted those thoughts and wished he still didn’t know.

“Do not leave,” Yami commanded as the Vassal began to move backwards into the portal. He stopped and bowed low to the floor. “Bring Man Eater here, along with Swarm of Scarabs, Swarm of Locusts, Drill Bug, and Man-Eater Bug.” The Vassal left, bowing as he stepped through the portal.

“What do you have cooking in that pointy haired head, Pharaoh?”

“Patience is a virtue, Bakura.”

They didn’t have to wait long. The vassal returned, carrying a teeth gnashing Man Eater with Drill Bug around his neck. Man-Eater Bug followed behind, carrying two rather small but loudly buzzing bags.

“Hey, bug, hungry?” Bakura greeted his pet. An eager chitterling coming to him in response.

“Place the plant, and bug into the coffin. Man-Eater Bug, you will step inside once they are in, but do NOTHING until the lid is closed. Understood?”

The same eager chitterling filled the room.

Yami knelt by the head of the coffin. “Your inaction caused an innocent to die. You stood by and did nothing and the result was the death of an unborn infant, the most innocent and guiltless of all beings. Therefore, you will once again stand by and do nothing as a life is taken. Yet, this time, the life carries guilt. So says Pharaoh. Let his judgment be carried out.”

Yami stepped back and motioned to Man-Eater Bug. As soon as it was inside, Vassal struggled to slide the lid into place.

“You may leave. You have served me well. I thank you,” Yami dismissed the Gravekeeper’s Vassal. “Send me the Watcher.” With a nod, the small man left, his place soon taken by a much larger man. “Watcher, wait until they are through and release them then dispose of any remains.”

Gravekeeper’s Watcher bowed. Yami tapped the lid of the coffin three times, signaling the monsters inside to begin.

He couldn’t see, but he heard the commands and felt the added weight on his body. The muted buzzing made him nervous. He heard the lid slide into place with a heavy thunk, and felt the coffin shift. Something moved. The buzzing grew louder, almost deafening. Something was biting at his feet; he kicked at it, trying to make it move. He felt several things moving over his body, small, crawling things. Something stung his thigh. He jerked. He was stung again on his side, chest, arm. They kept stinging. He jerked violently, trying to dislodge whatever it was. Something bit down hard on the top of his foot. He kicked wildly. He felt like he was being eaten alive. Something bit his ear, piercing the flesh through the wrappings. Then he realized he WAS being eaten alive, left with the two senses that would torture him most, to feel each bite and sting and to hear these creatures fighting over the bits of flesh they tore from his body.

Satisfied, Yami looked over to Bakura. “Shall we leave?”

“Yeah,” Bakura yawned. “I need some sleep before tonight, gotta fuck my light.”

Yami sighed and shook his head, leading the way to the door.

“Fun’s over. Everyone bag ass!” Bakura released the guarding monsters as soon as he and Yami stepped outside into the first light of morning. Yami discharged the Swords with a wave of his hand. “I’m ready for a nice soft bed,” Bakura stretched his arms above his head with a loud sigh.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“You know, Pharaoh, you aren’t half bad, for a royal pain in the ass.”

“Thank you, Bakura. You are not too bad for a thieving, murderous, psycho either.”

Bakura grinned. “Thanks, Pharaoh. First compliment you ever gave me. Let’s celebrate; you buy the coffee.”

“I do not have any currency.”

Bakura shrugged. “Okay, I’ll steal it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amara blinked her eyes open, fighting the curst that had formed along the edges. She reached up to wipe her eyes, and frowned at the tube taped to the back of her hand. She followed it with her eyes past the edge of the bed. She frowned when she saw the metal railing, wondering when and why Seto had installed that to their bed. She tried to turn and winced at the tenderness of her stomach, moaning slightly.

Seto lifted his head from his crossed arms on the bed. “How do you feel, dove?” he whispered, smiling.

Amara wondered why he looked so rumpled and worried. “Probably as good as you look, dragon. What happened?”

“We took you to the hospital,” he sighed heavily, dreading what he was about to say. “You... you were pregnant. The bleeding was from you miscarrying.”

“Pregnant?” Amara was positive she had misunderstood what he had said. She couldn’t have been pregnant.

Seto took her free hand in both of his, lifting it up to kiss the back of her fingers. “I am sorry, Amara, but... you lost the baby.”

Amara blinked at him. “Oh.”

Seto knew Amara had not gotten the full impact of what he had said. All he could do was wait until she did. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumbs and began to talk to her of minor things, hoping something would bring a reaction.

“I found the pup an apartment,” he paused, and seeing no response continued. “It is close to the school and has everything a bachelor needs. It is also close to several businesses that are hiring. I had a secretary go to each one and get applications for him. I am also going to help him draw up a resume.” Amara nodded slightly but made no comment. “I intend to pay all of his expenses until he is able to himself.”

Seto watched Amara closely. Her breathing was slightly faster and she was blinking rapidly as if fighting tears. He decided to change the topic of discussion.

“The suit against Childhood Memories ruled in our favor, the company is now under investigation for extensive product safety violations. It seems there was another collapse where the infant was not as fortunate.”

Seto tactic worked. Amara began to cry. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, gathering her into his arms. He rocked her gently, stroking her hair, and making quiet soothing sounds.

Amara’s quiet sobs eventually turned into softer sniffles. She clung to Seto, her fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt. “I-I’m sorry I lost our baby.”

“It was not you, dove. You did nothing that caused the loss of our child,” he held her tighter, kissing the top of her head.

Amara shook her head. “I made them angry. If I hadn’t ... maybe...”

“They abducted you and Ryou. You did what you had to, to protect him,” Seto lifted her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Amara, more than I could tell you in three lifetimes. We will be able to have more children; Dr. Ersoy has assured me or that.”

“I-I love y-you too.”

Amara buried her face in Seto’s chest and cried. He held her, giving her what comfort he could. When her cries had quieted and her body lay slack against him, he eased them back, leaning against the raised back of the bed. He brought the blanket over them and settled Amara against his chest before he gave into his own fears of almost losing Amara and the pain of having lost a child they had created. He held her tightly, stared blankly at the far wall, and silently cried until the morning sun began to lighten the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yugi’s mind was on anything and everything other than Current Events when he felt Yami’s presence return to the puzzle. He tossed a small paper wad at Ryou two rows over.

“Bakura back?” he mouthed when the white haired boy looked over.

Ryou nodded. Yugi made a talking motion with his hand then tapped the puzzle. Ryou gave him a thumb’s up and motioned towards the teacher.

{Yami?}

{{I am here, aibou.}}

{Are you and Bakura okay?}

{{We are unharmed. Amara and her child have been avenged.}}

{Good!}

Yami was a bit taken aback by the venom in Yugi’s voice.

{{How is she?}}

{She’s okay, we all came to school. Tristan stayed with her to have his bandages taken off. We’re going back to pick them up and bring her home.}

{{What of tomorrow?}}

{She’s coming to school, and Seto’s about to worry himself into an ulcer.} Yugi caught Yami’s mental agreement. {The doctor said she should be alright if she doesn’t do anything more than walk to class.}

{{We will make certain that is all she does.}}

{Yeah. Yami?}

{{Yes, aibou?}}

{I love you.}

{{I love you,}} he smiled then lay down on the bed in his soul room. {{Goodnight, aibou.}}

Yugi looked over at Ryou and saw that he was sweating and shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

Yugi shook his head, grinning. ‘Only Bakura would get horny from killing someone.’ He turned his attention back to the teacher as he began discussing some ancient Egyptian writings found on an abandoned car that morning by an Egyptian history student attending the local college.


TBC

Reviews are greatly appreciated.


Author’s Note: I know it’s not two chapters as promised, but the second IS in the works. THANK you ALL for reading!!