Wow, this is a REALLY old fic…..I haven't touched it in ages. I'm sorry about that, I really am, but I got into other fandoms, then for a while I was too busy to write anything because of life and drama. Things have changed a lot for me, and this seis rather quiet so I have some time on my hands…and I'm getting into old things, such as my old stories.

All too soon the touch was gone as Yami carried the damn flea bag towards one of the open doorways. Yami looked indecisive, not knowing which one to take. He bit his lower lip and stopped, going from happy to unsure in one moment.

One of the servants walked by, carrying a basket of laundry on her hip, and said something to him rapidly in a strange language. Magic hissed and swiped at her. Yami held his cat tighter and looked over at Seto for reassurance and guidance.

Seto watched Yami, so broken and changed. His face tightened as he fought of memories of the way Yami used to be, so bold and decisive, before…

Whatever Yami read in Seto's face unnerved him and he swiveled around, running back to Seto and practically jumping into his lap. Magic hissed and squirmed free, scratching Seto's hand in the process, then leapt over them and back out the window to look for the bug. Seto swung at her as she went, but much to his dismay, he missed.

Yami buried his face in Seto's shoulder and clenched at his silk shirt with his hands. Seto cast a resigned look at his laptop before wrapping his arms around his slim, psychologically damaged fiancé, holding his frail body close. "It's alright, Yami." He whispered in his ear, wondering if increasing Yami's medication would help keep him calm and together.

Yami pressed himself against Seto, calming a little in his strong arms as the CEO rubbed his bony back. "I got confused…I…forgot where I was…then she startled me….I was in a strange place, with a stranger speaking a strange language….just like when-" He broke off and shuddered, unable to go on.

"Hush. I have you. You're safe. I'll always protect you." Yami had a death grip on Seto's shirt and refused to release it. Guilt tore at Seto, followed by an icy rage as he silently vowed once more that his revenge would be brutal and merciless. His most precious treasure, his Yami, had been taken and shattered, physically and mentally.

Seto rested his chin in Yami's soft, spiky hair, his long fingers stroking over the protruding bones of his spine and dipping into the visible dents between his ribs. After they sat curled in silence for a while, one hand slid down Yami's back, caressing his cloth covered thigh then scooping his legs up under the knees.

Yami gasped, jerked from the comfort and security of Seto's warm body cradling him, and looked up sharply, eyes wide and tinged with fear. "Seto?"

Seto kissed his forehead. "We're just going to the bedroom so you can lay down for a little bit before lunch." And so he could grap his laptop and get a very pressing matter arranged. He had just received the information he'd been waiting for, and now he had to send a reply with instructions.

"I'm not tired." Yami nuzzled Seto's cheek. "Love you."

The thin boy was Seto's heart, gave his life meaning, but his shrewd, analytical head wouldn't leave him concentrate or relax until the next phase was arranged. Seto, distracted, tucked Yami's head under his chin.

Yami sighed. "Do we have to go to bed?"

Seto hesitated, heading towards his laptop. "There's a porch swing in the sun room." Yami nodded and wiggled a little, getting comfortable in his arms.

The sun porch was wide and airy, with three ceiling fans circulating air throughout the open wooden room. The open spaces were covered with mesh screens to keep the numerous and plentiful bugs out, and thick green foliage provided cooling shade. Under one leafy bush, just barely visible, sat a fat, fluffy black cat looking very smug and satisfied with a green bug leg sticking out of her mouth.

Wicker furniture was scattered throughout the room. Seto sat Yami on a plump swing cushion; the smaller boy nestled against his side when he sat down. Seto put an arm around him and Yami tucked his small, bare feet under himself. Seto had his laptop in his lap and typed with one hand. He rocked the swing gently with the balls of his sandaled feet.

Yami had both his hands folded over Seto's larger one, which rested on his concave stomach, right above his pierced navel. He stared through the mesh screen at the bright, colorful birds squawking loudly and hopping from branch to branch amongst the tall, dense trees that surrounded the porch and blocked out the hot sun. The plants did nothing to help with the humidity, though. He had seen the same kind of birds for sale for hundreds of dollars in local petshops back home. But here, they were wild, free, and in danger of being stalked by a certain fluffy feline who was eyeing them hungrily from the shadows where she lurked.

Yami smiled softly at the birds then glanced at Seto's screen; he was typing in an encrypted code so Yami didn't know what he was writing. The laptop's background screen was a picture of Yami laying on his stomach on black silk sheets, naked except for some strategically placed, loose black feathers and a black velvet choker.

He remembered when that picture was taken. It had been Seto's 19th birthday; they had celebrated in Tokyo with an elaborate dinner in an expensive restraunt then a ride in Seto's stretch limo to a love hotel, where Yami showed Seto just how much of a naughty boy he was. Seto had taken a reminder with his camera phone, and liked it so much he put it on his laptop.

Yami let out a lazy yawn and went to reach for one of the chilled drinks a servant had brought them and sat on a small wicker table by the swing. Seto, lost in his work, absentmindedly had an arm of iron around him, and Yami couldn't stretch enough to reach. Frowning, he settled his head on Seto's shoulder and went back to watching the birds.

Just then a maid popped her head out of the screen door. "Mister Kaiba, phone for you. Say is important. Much hurry." She said with a broken accent. Seto looked up sharply from his laptop, where he just finished up with his personal work. Yami panted at his side, getting overheated.

His plan was preceding nicely. Revenge would be his. An image of Yami laying naked, bruised and bleeding on an oil-stained, cement floor flashed through his head, and cold, calculating fury flashed in his blue eyes. Yami wheezed, in pain from Seto's tightening grip.

Seto tensed for a second, pulling himself together. He snapped his computer shut, loosened his grip on the small body, apologetically rubbed Yami's stomach, and took the cordless phone the maid laid in his hand. He switched to Latin, a language neither Yami nor the staff knew.

Yami turned his head to the side so his cheek was on Seto's shoulder bone and closed his eyes, listening intently to see if he could hear anything. He was quite positive his sneaky Seto was up to something, and Yami had taken a course or two of Latin in college. Seto spoke in such quick, cold, and clipped tones that Yami could discern nothing.

Yami knew to stay out of Seto's private affairs, and Seto allowed him to have as many piercing and tattoos as he wanted. But lately, Seto had been acting oddly, ever since…..it…happened. Seto would become very quiet and still, his face would darken and his thoughts would focus inward. These spells usually came after Yami had a bad episode. He first noticed them when he was recovering in the hospital for months. Seto would hold him in his arms, lightly going over each injury, every little bruise. Now the physical marks of his ordeal were gone, but when the mental ones surfaced, or when Seto was on his personal laptop or private cell….

Yami was worried. He didn't doubt for a second Seto still loved him. Those strange moments gave him a cold, sinking knot in his stomach; he assumed it was some dangerous, risky business venture and he was afraid for Seto. So he tried to find out what he could, but Seto was too cautious, too smooth and sneaky to let anything slip.

Still, Yami was part of Seto's private life, and sometimes, like now, he was privy to mysterious, guarded phone calls. Seto left no tangible physical evidence of his plans, and his emails and computer were all heavily encrypted. Yami had tried talking to him about it, but all Seto would do was kiss his forehead and tell him not to worry, that it was just business or a small problem he was taking care of.

Yami didn't think it was a small problem. And his Latin had been improving, marginally, or else Seto was speaking slower…his voice lower, angrier…and Yami could pick out a few words.

"Yes, six minutes and seventeen seconds ago."

"No. I'm taking care of Yami now. Later." Seto's face darkened as he apparently listened to protests on the other line before he hung up. He squeezed the phone as if he could strangle it.

"Seto?" Yami asked softly, timidly.

Seto looked at him and reined himself in. His features smoothed out and he kissed Yami's forehead. "Just some idiotic subordinates. Don't worry about it. Later, you and I will go for a walk on the moonlit beach."

Yami frowned, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. "Seto, are you okay? Is something…..bad…going on? Please, tell me-"

"Shush, its nothing for you to worry about." Seto cut Yami's protests of by dropping the phone and kissing Yami, thrusting his tongue down his throat in a brutal, passionate, and angry assault, taking out his frustration on Yami's sweet, soft lips.

It was a ruthless, calculated move that achieved the desired effect. Once it brought out a fiery passion to match his own, but now Yami stiffened in shock, his eyes went wide with fear as horrible memories of what had been done to him flashed through his mind until his fragile psyche and body couldn't take any more. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he passed out, his body and mind protecting himself by shutting down.