Chapter Text
Cold. Cold, searing his skin to ice until it cracks and splits. Blood, black and thick as tar, congeals in a sticky mass. The shadows lap it up, sucking and slurping like leeches.
Death rots and peels him away, devoured by maggots. Muscle shrivels and snaps, crumbling to gray dust. In his dry bones, the cold settles for eternity.
Then, he is warm and whole, and it starts all over again.
No! he screams, ice seizing his lungs, please, please! No more, please –
Red-hot steel pierces through him, and crazed, cruel laughter screeches in his ear. All around him, blood clogs his throat and froths at his lips, hot and sour.
The cackling morphs to a triumphant howl. Don’t you remember, little Yugi? I am the darkness. I cannot be destroyed.
Yugi! His grandpa cries out, a hand stretching. Yugi swings out desperately, but black smoke shaped like jackals rips away at him from the shadows. The pain is so great, he can’t even scream.
Out of the black, a new voice cries out. Help! Help, somebody! Please –
Téa! His head flops to the side as sharp claws yank his hair. A flash of bright blue eyes, and Téa wails as she disappears under a wave of darkness.
He tries to shout, and water gushes down to silence him. It slithers like serpents up his nose and pours into his lungs, heavy as wet cement.
Yug! Help, Yugi, help!
No , he thinks, and it’s like needles stabbing his brain. Please, not Joey –
More shrieks, more high, cold laughter. All around, black flames erupt, and the screams of his friends crackle and echo in his ears. Tristan, Duke, Ryou, even Rebecca – not them, please, it’s me you want, I’ll do anything, I’ll stay here forever, just please — not him —
Yugi!
There it is. The last frail hope keeping him alive, crumbling to ash.
Amaranth eyes meet violet, and Atem begins melt away. His screams transform the fire back into ice, piercing down to his soul.
Yugi closes his eyes and surrenders.
Then, a hand smacks him awake.
“ – ugi! Yugi!”
Yugi gasps, air searing his throat. His eyes shoot open, and all he sees is darkness, endless void, no, no – !
Shadows claw at the edge of his vision. Sheer terror floods his veins, and he flings out his arms, shoving and scrambling away. Somewhere far off, a deep voice shouts over a thin, rasping wheeze, like breath sucked full speed through a straw.
Suddenly, solid ground disappears. He tumbles head over heels through the air, adrenaline surging as he falls down, back down into hell and torment and pain –
Two very real arms wrap around his waist, tugging him against a very real chest. They twist together in midair, and he lands with a grunt on a warm, solid body. The body grunts, too, but quickly sits them both up.
“Yugi? Yugi, can you hear me? You’re so cold – please, breathe, just breathe – ”
The voice sounds terrified. A hand flies up to cup his cheek, brushing away wetness. With a start, Yugi realizes the wheeze is coming from him, lungs aching and useless. His stomach churns, and without warning, he doubles over and retches. Bile stings his throat, gasping for air like a drowning man.
A warm hand settles between his shoulder blades. Rubs back and forth, soothing and soft as he dry heaves again, gut roiling and chest burning. A deep, soft voice whispers nonsense in his ear, and little by little, his panic starts to ebb.
At last, his breath grows quiet, lungs remembering oxygen again. The hand on his back pauses, then helps guide him back up, leaning against the side of the bed. Their bed. He’s in their bedroom, in their apartment. He, and…
“Please, Yugi. Say something.”
Atem. Of course it’s Atem. Relief floods through him like water in a parched desert, and he slumps bonelessly back, head bumping against the mattress. A breathless chuckle escapes him, and the hand – Atem’s hand – grips his shoulder in worry. “I – I’m okay.”
Atem blows out a slow breath. For a moment, they just sit there, world dark and quiet around them. Then, he slowly slides the hand from Yugi’s shoulder up the side of his face, letting him feel every inch he travels. He stops at Yugi’s forehead, laying his palm across. It's warm against him, soothing the ache behind Yugi’s eyes. “Gods, you’re so cold – can you stand?”
Yugi honestly doesn’t know and is too drained to lie. He shakes his head.
“Alright.” Atem shifts his hand back to Yugi’s cheek. “May I turn on the light?”
He nods, and the hand stretches away to fingertips as Atem reaches out. The bedside lamp clicks on, and Yugi winces away.
Then, Atem gently shifts his hand to cover Yugi’s eyes. The simple kindness breaks the little composure Yugi just scraped together, and he bursts into tears.
“Yugi!” Atem’s voice cracks as he cups both hands to Yugi’s face. “ Little one, please, what’s happened? Are you ill?”
Yugi just sobs. In his mind’s eye, shadows growl and snarl, and Atem’s screams echo like phantoms behind them. He fists his hands in his hair, curling into himself. It wasn't real, it wasn't real, they'd won, it wasn't real –
Atem’s arms wrap around him, stopping his rocking back and forth. “It wasn't real,” he urges, and Yugi realizes he must’ve been speaking aloud. “Whatever you saw, whatever you heard – you were dreaming, Yugi. I swear to you. It was only a dream.”
Not just a dream. A fucking nightmare. One for the history books, he thinks wildly, hiccupping on a sob. Forget Pegasus locking away souls. Hell, forget Yami-Marik, the Orichalcos, and every other demon they’ve faced. Turns out, the worst has been in his head all along.
Lips brush against his temple, and Yugi shudders. Atem clutches him tighter. “You’re scaring me, little one,” he whispers. “Please. Tell me what you saw.”
“I ca – no.” He barely gets the words out, terror seizing his throat.
“You were screaming,” Atem breathes, then presses another, more desperate kiss against him. “Cold as death – when a snake bites, you suck out the poison before it spreads. Please. Let me help you.”
Let me help you, Yugi!
We’ll defeat this together!
I want to be with you, forever.
“It… was cold.” He buries his face into the crook of Atem’s neck, and the rest comes spilling out like marbles over a wood floor. His voice slowly grows stronger, steel bands around his chest loosening as he speaks.
When he’s finished, he takes a deep breath. He does feel better. Damn ancient pharaohs and their damn ancient wisdom.
Then, he opens his eyes and looks up in the light for the first time. Atem’s stare is fixed at the far wall. To anyone else, it would be hard, cold. Inscrutable. To him, it’s bullshit. “Don’t you dare.”
“Dare what?” he says bitterly. “Believe the truth?”
“Pick out one truth that conveniently shifts all the blame to you, then ignore the rest.”
“Darkness would never have entered your life were it not for the sins of my father. And myself.“
Yugi sighs. Then, he finds his strength and climbs out of Atem’s hold to his feet. Stars wink in his eyes and he sways a little. Atem holds out his hands, ready to catch him if he falls again.
When his head clears, Yugi sighs again, hugging his arms to his chest. He knows he shouldn’t let this sit, but honestly, he’s too exhausted to keep going. The absolute last thing he wants, though, is to go back to sleep.
Then, he frowns, looking down at himself. His shirt is wet and sticky under his arms. With a groan, he reaches back and tugs his collar over his head, wiping his arms clean and tossing the shirt towards the hamper. Atem does the same, and he grimaces. “Dammit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurl all over you – “
Atem waves a hand, not meeting his eyes. “It’s forgotten.”
“No, it – "
“It’s alright, partner,” Atem inserts, still looking anywhere but at him. “You should rest. I’ll go put these in to wash.”
He starts towards the door. Without thinking, Yugi seizes his wrist. His hand is trembling again, voice a hoarse whisper. “Other me.”
Atem whips his head around. At last, their eyes meet, and Atem’s face crumples at what he sees. He lifts his free hand to brush Yugi’s bangs back, gentle and loving. Yugi shivers, dropping his head to Atem’s shoulder. Strong, steady arms embrace him, tugging them flush together.
“Dearest one,” Atem whispers, and presses a kiss into his hair. “I’m here.”
After a moment, he pulls back, leading Yugi to the bathroom to rinse his mouth and wash up. Then, he walks them both back to the bed. They lay chest-to-chest, legs tangled, Yugi’s head tucked under Atem’s chin like a child. Atem pulls the sheets up over them, then strokes Yugi’s back, slow, soothing touches up and down his skin. Yugi blows out a breath, tense muscles slowly unwinding.
Then, Atem inhales long and deep against him. “ Feel my chest, little one,” he whispers, slipping into his native, sacred tongue that Yugi has never learned, but somehow always understood. The words wash over him like a warm summer rain, and the cold of the nightmare finally begins to thaw. “The Gods still grant us breath.”
He reaches for Yugi’s hand, laying it flat over his heart between them. They’re so close, he can feel his and Atem’s heartbeats on either side of his palm. “Feel our hearts. They were meant to be one, always.”
Leaning back, he lifts Yugi’s chin. For a second, they just look at each other, eyes glittering in the moonlight. Then, Atem leans in to capture his lips.
Yugi surges into the kiss, cheeks flushing red at the whimper that escapes him. Atem groans, chest rumbling, and pulls him closer. It's just what he needs, and Atem knows it. Physical comfort is instinct to them now, their bodies working as one as their spirits had.
(In quiet moments, when they reach for each other without thought, without rationality or logic holding them back, they swear their souls still meet, fleeting as a brush of hands. They are God-touched, after all, and they have always known the way. Until the day their spirits are never to part again, it’s enough.)
The kiss grows less frantic, lips brushing sweetly until they pull back for air. Yugi is panting for breath again, but for normal, wonderful reasons this time. He touches his forehead to Atem’s, tips of their noses brushing.
“Feel, my love,” Atem finishes. “We’re together. And together, the shadows will never take us. ”
He believes him.
After a minute, Yugi leans back. “I love you,” he says, and it feels pathetic and meaningless after Atem’s eloquence. Plain old Japanese. Plain old Yugi.
But Atem squeezes his eyes shut, a tiny smile on his lips. For a second, he looks so grateful, so thankful, Yugi might have promised him the Nile instead of three tired words.
(They don't even cover it, really. Everything Atem said and more, Yugi yearns to say first, next time. But only Atem can declare their ‘hearts were meant to be one’ and not sound like a five yen romance heroine.)
Atem kisses him again, gently. “And I love you, partner. More than you know.”
The next thing Yugi knows, it's morning, and Atem is gone.
Before worry can hit, he sees the Post-It on the next pillow. I'm downstairs, partner. Grandpa is coming for breakfast. Join us whenever you're ready.
He smiles fondly, then pulls on a tank top. With all the tossing and turning last night, his hair is twice as ridiculous as usual, but Grandpa and Atem have seen it all by now.
Warm coffee and cinnamon toast beckon him downstairs. They've been experimenting with American foods, thanks to Téa’s rave reviews, and Atem is already addicted to blueberry pancakes. Around the corner, he hears the coffee dripping and bacon sizzling in a pan.
He pauses on the last step, though, when Atem’s voice speaks over them.
“I don't know what to do.”
In his mind’s eye, Yugi can see exactly how he says it. He's sitting at their old oak table, gripping his favorite blue mug with both hands. He's staring down at his black coffee — he only likes sweet foods, not drinks -- and his falling bangs don't quite cover the little wrinkle on his forehead.
“He's suffering because of me,” Atem continues, almost too soft for Yugi to hear. “The second the Puzzle brought us together -- and they've been growing worse, he -- ”
“They're only nightmares, Atem.” A spatula scrapes and plate clinks down before Grandpa groans softly, chair creaking as he sits. “They’ll pass.”
“He shouldn't have to endure them at all!” His mug thunks on the table, and Yugi’s heart breaks a little. “He is the very reason I live. And I am the reason shadows still stalk him.”
Yugi is about to storm into the kitchen, readying some choice words about stuffing those shadows where the sun doesn't shine, when Grandpa starts to laugh.
Yugi stops short. Atem must be shocked silent, too, because Grandpa speaks next, still chuckling. “You might be a few thousand years old,” he says, “but teenagers are still teenagers.”
“I've just turned twenty-one,” Atem says, a little haughtily. Yugi holds back his own giggles. Atem’s vanity can be charming. Sometimes.
“Atem.” It’s suddenly Grandpa’s no-nonsense voice, and Yugi is viscerally reminded of every time he was home late after school for his work shift. “Do you know what Yugi told me, the day he finished the Puzzle?”
Yugi frowns. That was over six years ago now. What did he tell him?
Instead of answering, Grandpa hums thoughtfully, mug clinking as he sets it down. “Destiny brought me to unearth the Puzzle,” he says, casual as noting the weather. “And I knew Yugi was destined to solve it. When he did, it was the happiest I'd ever seen him.”
“He had no idea what horrors awaited him.”
“So melodramatic,” Grandpa says, and Yugi stifles another giggle. “Listen to me, Atem. In less than half a year, Yugi lost his mother, then had to leave a nice home and nice friends to come live with an old man he barely knew. I couldn't afford to send him to his old boarding school, and the first day after school here, he came home with a black eye and a sprained wrist.”
Yugi grimaces. That one had hurt.
“I remember when I first awoke,” Atem says, and it's practically a growl. “I could never abide bullies.”
Yugi almost snorts. Understatement.
“It was worse before you found each other,” Grandpa says frankly. “He would hide his bruises, lie about why he was late. Never accepted any help. But every night, he'd work on the Puzzle, and that gave him hope.”
Atem doesn't reply, and Yugi tips his head against the wall. It’s true. For a while, the Puzzle had been the only thing keeping him going. He’d wanted to finish it before he quit… well. Everything else.
“But when he finished it,” Grandpa says, then stops. His breath hitches, and a chair scrapes against the floor. Atem’s steps hurry to the other side of the table.
After a minute, Grandpa sniffs. “It was the first time he really smiled. He ran downstairs into the shop to show me, and I finally knew he'd be okay.”
Yugi feels his own eyes start to burn. He squeezes them shut, remembering. He hadn't known Atem was there, not at first. But the second he’d clicked that last piece in, there'd been a rush of -- something .
He still doesn't know if it was Atem, or their bond, or just the Puzzle’s magic, or maybe even Ma’at herself. It’d felt like -- like how fresh, cold water tastes, sparkling from a spring. Like a blazing summer sunset, colors warm on his cheeks. Like the smell of jasmine and apple tea under yellow maple leaves. Like the sweet silence of stars in December, twinkling blue-white overhead.
Whatever it was, it's the reason he's here today. It was like a puzzle piece inside had clicked into place, too. It had just been… right.
“You said he told you something,” Atem says, snapping Yugi out of his reverie. What was so memorable it’d stuck with Grandpa all this time?
“He said, ‘Thank you so much for this, Grandpa. I love you.’ It was the first time he'd said that to me.”
Gods. Had he really never -- he hadn't even realized, and after everything Grandpa had done --
“You have always brought light into Yugi’s life, Atem,” Grandpa finishes. “Even when you couldn't know it. And even when I was trapped in the Shadow Realm, I told him to trust you, and believe in the destiny that still binds you together. Now, you must believe, too.”
Atem doesn't reply, and Yugi decides it's high time to come out. He rounds the corner, and Atem quickly backs out of Grandpa’s hug, as if he's embarrassed at how tight his arms were gripping, his eyes squeezed shut.
Yugi smiles, then says, “Good morning, Grandpa,” and he tries to make it sound as much like I love you as he can.
“Good morning, grandson.” Grandpa smiles and nods, and Yugi knows he understands. He pointedly picks out a slice of bacon, dropping his eyes to his plate.
Yugi takes the opening and grabs Atem by the shirtfront, planting a firm kiss on his mouth. Atem is wide-eyed and dazed when he pulls back, and Yugi grins. “Morning, ‘Tem. Breakfast smells amazing. Thanks for making it.”
Atem blinks before the tiniest smile crosses his lips. “You're welcome.” Then, a cocksure smirk replaces the bashfulness. “Your hair looks... exciting, this morning, partner .”
Grandpa bursts out laughing, and Yugi chucks bacon into Atem’s hair, and Atem yelps in outrage, and everything is perfect.