Shattered

Shattered.
By Lady Jade

Disclaimers:
Warnings: I don’t own Yugioh. Damn. Anyways, I’m not making any profit off this, and my hat is off to all the talented ppl who worked so hard to make Yugioh successful. If you sue me, all you’ll get are my student loans. Have fun.This is Yaoi boys and Girls. Boy boy interaction. (TxJ) Explicit stuff. NO kiddies or ppl with heart conditions. Swim at your own risk!
Please review.
All flames will be used to line the cat box. Don’t waste your breath J Please review. It works good for me, helps me get some feedback as a writThanThanks everyone, hope you enjoy.

A/N: This is a continuation, more really of an Add on, to Bittersweet Goodbyes. Set before the death of Yugi’s grandfather. Its really a “part two” of the series. Anyways, there is a lot of violence in this. Joey’s father beats him. If that upsets you, Please don’t read. In a way, this fic is my tribute to teens and kids everywhere who have ever been abused by their parents. Its not just a Yaoi fic, this is also a way to make know to everyone that family violence exists. Consider it my small soapbox. But don’t worry, its going to be a good Yaoi too. I promise.
- Wataris_Girl


~*~

Tristan shouldered Joey’s pack first, and then hoisted the blonde onto the front of his motorcycle, sitting him backwards so that he was securely resting against his stomach with his arms wrapped weakly around his waist. He was trying to ignore the mewlings of pain that Joey inadvertently made.
“Its gonna be ok Jo.” Tristan whispered into Joey’s hair before jamming his helmet on.
“I want to believe that Tris’, I really do.” Joey murmured, his voice drifting up under the helmet. Tristan started it up and heard Joey whimper from the pain the rattling of the engine had caused.
“Just hang on.” Tristan whispered as he pulled away slowly from the curb.

~*~
Tristan pulled through the foreboding gates of Kaiba’s mansion as a security guard waved him through, then shut his engine off and drifted in to park on the curb by the front door. He didn’t know who lived there besides Kaiba, but it was three in the morning and he didn’t want to wake up the universe. He dropped his kickstand and leaned the bike, then had to hold Joey’s weight as he nearly slipped off. He was sweat soaked and tired from holding all of Jo’s weight and trying to control the bike. It wasn’t easy on such a small motorcycle with the weight of two people. He hung his helmet on the handle, and then shook a drifting Joey.
“Come on man, stay awake, stay with me.” Tristan pleaded as he pulled the lanky blonde into his arms. He made it to the third step when Kaiba opened the door, meeting him halfway at a trot.
“Oh sweet gods.” Kaiba whispered, his ice blue eyes wide with horror as he took in Joey’s blood soaked form.
“I thought you were overreacting. I didn’t know it was this bad. Bring him in.” Kaiba’s voice held a tremor of emotion that seemed like it should be foreign to the cold CEO. Tristan skillfully kicked his shoes off at the door without so much as jarring Joey, and followed a sock and pajama clad Seto into the main foyer. Tristan felt lost already in the vastness of the mansion.
“Tristan, follow that hall to the end, take a right at the last door, it’s the bathroom, put him in the tub and wash some of that blood off. I’ll call my doctor...” Kaiba ordered. Tristan shook his head.
“He probably needs a surgeon, I don’t know if he’s bleeding internally. I’ll bet he is though.” Tristan whispered. The blonde is arms had closed his eyes tightly so he didn’t have to look at Kaiba. Tristan understood the gesture. Kaiba must have interpreted it as simply pain and or spotty consciousness (Which it might very well have bee
“
“Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” Kaiba demanded. Why here?”
Tristan sighed.
“Kaiba. His old man did this to him, you know for damn sure he would not be safe in that hospital.”
Kaiba’s eyes went from irritated to comprehending in a heartbeat.
“Hell.” He stated as he stalked off. Pausing to look back over his shoulder.
“Make the water hot Tristan, he needs to be warm, he’s in shock.”
“Kaiba?”
“Tristan?”
“When you are done, can you bring him some spare clothes and a blanket, I doubt he’ll be happy about being naked.”
Kaiba nodded and Tristan gave him a thankful nod in return, then paced off down the long corridor, trying to find the bathroom.”
“First right…first right…” he chanted as he hit the end of the hall. “Bingo.”

~*~
Tristan turned the water on adjusting it to just this side of scalding and flipped the stopper switch down, then knelt on the floor, laying Joey out carefully on the tile and tossing his backpack into the corner.
“Jo, you can open your eyes, he’s not here.” Tristan encouraged gently.
Joey blinked up at Tristan blurrily as the taller teen unlaced his shoes and slid them off, setting them in the corner. He helped Joey out of his jean jacket next, he winced when the coat fell away and pieces of glass scattered onto the floor, and a few pieces that had been pinning through the denim into Joeys arm came free. Joey barked as fresh blood started to flow.
“Oh god.” Tristan whispered as he looked at the large pieces of glass still embedded in Joey’s bare arms. Those pieces had gone clear through the denim and stayed. Tristan swept up the bloody glass that he could reach into his cupped hand, hoping no one stepped on a piece in their socks; and dumped it into the trash can along with Joey’s blood soaked jacket.
“Sorry Jo, I know you are attached to that jacket, but I think it’s met its end.” Tristan apologized.
“S’ok.” Joey slurred. Tristan tried to help him out of his blood soaked t-shirt next, but found out when Joey started simpering that the cuts on his chest had scabbed to the shirt. Another check of the shredded denim of his jeans proved the same. What to do now though? Tristan got a brain-storm.
“Joey, I’m gonna set you in the tub just like this, ok?”
“Uh? Tristan, just yank it all off.”
“No, you’ve been in enough pain. This whole outfits gone Jo, I’ve got my pocket knife. I’ll wet down the fabric so the scabs come unstuck, then I’ll just cut these off.”
Joey blinked at him for a moment, uncertain, but too tired and in too much pain to fight with his friend.
“I trust you Tris’.
“Ok. Good.” Tristan murmured as he gathered Joey into his arms. Joey moaned in pain even from the taller teen’s gentle touch.
“I’m sorry Jo, I really am. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“S’Ok…oh FUCK!” Joey whimpered as Tristan lowered him into the hot water, and reached up to shut off the taps.
“Joey?”
Joey arched his back as the hot water seeped into every aching cut and bruise. It made part of him long for cold water. Everything that had started to go rather pleasantly numb came back to painful life.
Tristan’s strong hands supported the back of Joey’s head, keeping him from drowning, as the blonde writhed and whimpered.
“It hurts!” Joey hissed.
“I know.” Tristan said, his brown eyes had faded to the color of amber with anxiety and concern. He stroked Joey’s pain knitted brow with his thumbs and whispered soothing things until the other teen finally relaxed into the hot water, letting it take some aching pain out of broken bones, until the burning in the cuts and gashes wasn’t quite so bad anymore.
Tristan let his thumbs wipe the blood away, out from under Joey’s nose and off from his split lip and abraded cheek, and satisfied that the blonde looked a little better and a little more able to hand the next assault, Tristan reached into his back pocket. Joey’s pained expression faded into curiosity until he understood that Tristan was fishing for his pocket knife. Finding it, he held the knife up for Joey’s inspection. He didn’t want to just snap it open and scare the fragile blonde in his arms anymore than he already was.
“Is it ok?” Tristan asked as one of Joey’s hands rose trembling from the water, the rivulets running off of it trailing pink with blood. Joey clasped Tristan’s hand, and then carefully squeezed the blade release, snapping the blade from it’s casing. Tristan clasped Joey’s hand gently before pushing it way from his and back under the water.
“Ok Jo.” Tristan murmured as he tugged on the now soaked T-shirt, feeling it pull away easily from Joey’s skin where it had been nearly cemented before. He slipped the blunt edge of the blade down Joey’s chest, while he clutched the fabric and cradled the blonde’s head in the crook of his elbow. With one quick pull, the razor sharp blade edge cut the fabric cleanly open down the front. Another few quick cuts freed the shirt sleeves and Tristan pulled the remains of Joey’s mangled undershirt away. It gave him his first view of bruised chest, stomach and ribs. He thought the boot print on the side of Joey’s face was impressive, but Tristan could now make out whole fist prints and boot buckle marks. He started to cry as he tossed the soaked shirt into the trash can and started on Joey’s jeans and boxers. As the fabric came away in stubborn pieces, Tristan noted that Joey’s legs and hips weren’t any better off.
“Tristan, don’t cry buddy.” Joey pleaded. “It’ll get better…”
“Your right.” Tristan’s voice was emotionless despite his tears. “It will. That creep is never coming near you again. You can come stay with me, but I’m never letting you go back there.” Tristan tossed the shredded denim into the trash can angrily.
Joey blinked at him, barely seeming to register that he was now naked.
“Even after I’ve beuch uch an ass to you?”
“I love you with all my heart Jo, you can’t shake me that easy.”
Joey blinked up at Tristan.
“Tris’, You love me?” Joey was blinking at him like he had announced that he had decided to join the circus.
“Yeah. I do. So believe it Wheeler.” Tristan growled in mock anger as he wiped his cheek on his shoulder, brushing away the tears.
Joey smiled up at him weakly. It was a good sign, he hoped.
Tristan reached out, one hand trying to support Joey, the otreacreaching for the cabinet doors under the sink and hoping there were towels there. He couldn’t quite reach, but his quest ended a moment later when soft terry cloth brushed his questing fingertips.
Tristan blinked and looked at Joey questioningly, and then turned and looked up to meet the worried eyes of one Seto Kaiba.
Seto said nothing, just dug out several more thick towels and laid them on the bathroom floor, and indicated that Tristan could move Joey and set him there. Joey reached up weakly and wrapped his arms around Tristan’s neck, and to an extent, managed to stand and be hauled, dripping onto the towels. Tristan laid him down gently, careful to help him into a more comfortable position and then began to towel him dry. When Joey started to shiver, whether it was from feeling exposed or being cold, (Tristan couldn’t be certain.) Seto produced a pair of sweats and boxers that he had set outside the door in the hallway.
“Here, they are big on me, so they should fit the puppy just fine.”
Any other day Tristan would have been angry with Seto for calling Joey anything but by his name. For some reason though, the tenderness in Seto’s voice made it alright.
“The doctor is on his way.” Seto explained as he knelt to help Tristan stow Joey into boxers and sweats. Joey groaned a few times, but other than a few yelps, it seemed to go pretty smoothly. It was the first view Kaiba had gotten of his ex lover, and he couldn’t help whistling appreciatively. His normal teasing demeanor was back, he had been able to restore that by making the phone call to the doctor, but he couldn’t hide the worry that lurked like a shadow behind his ice blue eyes.
“Puppy, you look like hell.”
“Bite my ass Seto.” Joey snapped.
Seto just laughed and gave Tristan a pitying look.
“Good luck, you…” Kaiba stood and stretch coolly. “Are going to need it…I will wait for the doctor at the front gate.” Kaiba stood and turned away so Joey could not see his face for a moment, his eyes were on the bloody bathwater. He let his mask slip, and allowed himself to look worried. He knew that Tristan had seen his moment of anxiety, but he could care less. The front was for Joey’s benefit, not the taller duelists. He was surprised when Tristan caught his eye and gave him a nod of understanding. Kaiba nodded back, the corners of his eyes filling unbidden with tears. He cursed himself, but he couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter how messy their break up had been, Seto still cared, and, not that he would admit it, but he was terrified for his ‘puppy.’ Tristan knew now. Dammit.
He stalked out of the bathroom to make good on his promise, but not without a sympathetic look from the spiky haired duelist.

~*~
Tristan knew Kaiba must have heard their conversation. It must have broken his heart. He felt bad. He hadn’t known that Kaiba was capable of such emotions, but what he had just seen…Kaiba still loved Joey; and from what he could tell; he had relinquished Joey to him without so much as a fight. He needed to talk to Seto, if he ever got the chance.

~*~
Joey settled in against the towels, feeling better now that he was at least halfway decent. Tristan was hunched next to him, waiting patiently for Seto to return with the doctor. He wasn’t looking forward to having bones set, but then again, it might make everything hurt a lot less. He was also thankful that Seto was being his usual snide self. It made the tension between them easier, and gave him the smallest sense of comfort in the familiarity of their battle. He knew something unspoken had gone on between Seto and Tristan in those few minutes of silence, but he had been too tired to move his head, let alone open his eyes. Whatever. He could deal with that later. Right now he had to fight sleep. If he dozed off, he knew Tristan would absolutely panic.

~*~

“Not good.” The doctor murmured as he eyed the bathroom, which looked like it was the scene of a mass murder, then his eyes fell to Joey as he sighed. “I’d love to take this bastard to court.” The doctor breathed as he knelt beside the blonde.
“Move him to a bed.”

~*~
“He has to be one of the LUCKIEST young men I have ever met.” The doctor murmured as he sutured the gashes in Joey’s arms and chest closed, his eyes burning with relief and an angry hunger to put the man who had beaten this boy behind bars.
“Will he be ok Doc?” Tristan asked quietly, his brown eyes filled with sympathetic tears. Joey’s screams still echoed in his ears; he could still hear the bones popping dully as they slid back into place. It had made him sick, but he had had to hold the blonde street punk down with more help from Kaiba. Joey had not been happy. Thus, Joey was now heavily sedated, and sleeping rather peacefully while the doctor pulled glass out of his arms and chest and kept suturing.
“He has no internal bleeding, no internal injuries, and none of these broken ribs punctured any organuck uck lucky lucky.” The doctor stated. “His heartbeat is somewhat irregular but I’d place that on malnutrition and exhaustion, he probably bruised his heart and his lungs, it seems like he had a nasty fall from somewhere high as well as all this; that and all the older injuries from the beatings before this one tonight. He’s lost a lot of blood, and I will need to run an I.V. before I go so I know that he’s gotten some fluids.”
“Will he be ok?” Tristan repeated, sudden realizing the doctor was being more than a little obtuse.
“He will be one very sore young man tomorrow, and the day after that will be worse. I will give him an injection for pain that should last him twelve hours or so, but I will write a prescription before I go for something that will get him through this, get it filled in the morning, yes? That and I will write a prescription for some antibiotics, there was tons of dirt in these cuts, I don’t want a chance of infection.”
“Truthfully?” Kaiba asked.
The doctor sighed and looked the young CEO straight in the eyes.
“Truthfully, he should be in a hospital, getting a blood transfusion and in the ICU for observation. But I understand the need for him to be here. I am relying on the fact that he is young and strong. But if he worsens in any way, please take him straight to the hospital and call me again…and I…” the doctor smoothed his hair back from his eyes. “I will stand up for him in court. I want this guy locked up.”
Kaiba nodded.
“As do I.”
The suturing complete, the doctor sat back and looked the young blonde over. From the cast on his right wrist, across the nearly 200 sutures he had used to close up some pretty substantial lacerations, and the dozens of massive scrapes and bruises covered by a bandage that supported the broken ribs.
“This is such a crying shame.” The doctor groused.
~*~
A/N: Please review. Tbc.