As Kaiba let the train jolt him a little with every few moments, he looked to his right. There was Joey, his mouth open, snoring like a trombone. “Ya aint in no fit state to go runnin’ off to some station on your own. Isn’t it just something? I mean, here I am playing nanny for Mr. Money Bags.”

Kaiba had heard him out, and though he knew he was just trying to prove that he was only going because Kaiba was not strong enough to go on his own, Kaiba new better, and he was secretly grateful for it. He had not been in Teller since his parent’s deaths and it would be good not to be there alone. He smirked at the window and the different landscapes zipped by. He could not believe it. Of all the people to be there for him upon his return, it would be the mutt.

The smirk vanished. It didn’t make sense. The day before, he could have clamed that his reasons for going to Joey and his friends had been desperation. Now, however, he almost enjoyed the inept duelist’s company. Kaiba welcomed this…sort of. Perhaps it meant that he was not ‘lost.’ Perhaps he still could change back from the man Gozaburo had made him. Perhaps.

When they reached Teller at eleven o’clock Kaiba shook Joey awake. “Wheeler, we’re here.”

Joey jerked awake and blinked. “Wha’?” he muttered blearily. “…Kaiba, you look like ya seen a ghost.”

Kaiba didn’t answer. However, as he and Joey clambered off the train his eyes darted from sign post, to station, to ticket booth. This was the station from which he and Mokuba had been taken to the Orphanage. It hadn’t changed a bit.

“It’s a bit early to start walking down Memory Lain,” said Joey adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. Earlier Kaiba had been foolish enough to ask what was in the backpack. For the next five or so minutes Joey had been going though what had to be a food list big enough for an army. Kaiba soon discovered that Joey had two hobbies. Eating, and then sleeping.

Kaiba now looked around the station again. They two had been the only ones to get off at his small station. They began walking down to the exit without saying a word to each other. One, because he could think of nothing to say, the other, because his mouth was full of Hershey Kisses. For perhaps the first times in their lives the two looked like equals. They both looked exhausted with their hair untidy and their eyelids drooping and wearing baggy old coats – Kaiba had borrowed one of Joey’s because he did not have or want his trench coat. As Kaiba and Joey walked down the stairs to the street below, it was impossible to tell that they had held each other in contempt for the better parts of their lives, or that one was the richest man in Domino, and the other had about three different odd jobs a day.

---

“Oy, Kaiba! Do those look like rain clouds to you?”

Kaiba squinted against the wind. The weather had gone from bad to worse and Kaiba was beginning to have misgivings. Maybe Mokuba had not come here after all? Maybe he was already in the hands of some Pegasus or Marik? “With our luck they just might be!” he hollered over the wind.

The two men had been searching the streets of Teller for the last few hours. After coming across the entire town they found themselves next to an old school building at the fringe of the last houses. It was then that the rain hit. It came poring down in sheets, and Joey’s coats did nothing but become soaked with water and heavy to wear.

“Kaiba!” Joey called again, mopping his wet hair out of his face. “In the school play ground. Look! A tree!”

The rest of the street had nothing but houses, and the one tree was all the shelter they could find. Ignoring the safety rules of ‘never hide under a tree during a lightning-fest,’ Kaiba bolting over the wire fence, and the two pelted for the large oak tree. The moment they were under its leaves, Joey bent down and shook his head. The water sprayed everywhere.

“You dry yourself like a dog,” Kaiba sneered, though he was becoming less comfortable with the nickname.

Joey looked up, and it looked as if he had a large, blond, puff ball on his head. “Just watch it Kaiba. Remember, you’re on slippery mud and there’s a puddle right behind ya. Don’t tempt me.”

Kaiba did not; indeed, he was very close to apologizing, but restrained himself. Joey, despite the freezing weather, stripped himself first of his jacket and then of his shirt. His chest was thin and pail, and was covered in goosebumps. Kaiba noticed a few scares wracking about his ribcage and trailing up his chest. There was also something on his back that looked suspiciously like a bullet hole. It seems as if Wheeler’s had his share of difficulties.

Joey squeezed his shirt of all the water he could get out, then yanked it back on. “This has got to be the coldest March in ages,” he complained, repeating the posses with his coat. Some of the rain leaked though the branches despite the leaf cover.

Kaiba looked over the play ground. This had been his school. He had played here. With every step Kaiba took, he remembered something else – some new detail which had been buried with time. “I hope Mokuba’s alright…” he muttered. Joey did not answer; he was hopping up and down, trying to get warm.

“This calls for food!” he finally declared, and picked up the backpack he had put on the ground.

“No wonder your mother doesn’t allow your sister to stay with you on account of well living. You eat yourself out of house and home,” Kaiba said, his arms crossed, as if that might protect him, even slightly, against the cold.

Joey did not answer, his mouth was too full of chocolate to snap back verbally. Instead, he replied with an eloquent, chocolate covered, middle finger.

At that moment, the ever so peaceful hammering of rain and howling of wind was disturbed by a very faint scream. Indeed, it really might jus have been a particularly eerie howl of the wind. Only that it wasn’t. Joey leapt up from his backpack, and Kaiba uncrossed his arms. Joey swallowed his mouthful of chocolate with difficulty and licked his fingers clean. “Tell me that was a bird,” he rasped.

Kaiba was silent. Dread filled him. No…it could not be. “Mokuba…” He dashed out from under the tree cover, spraying water in a thousand directions as he ran.

“Oy! Wait for me!” Joey yelled, zipping up his pack and racing after him.

Kaiba ran around the whole school building, before skidding to a halt. There, in the most secluded part of the school building, between two large trash containers, Kaiba heart and feet halted as one. Joey nearly crashed into him.

Huddled between the trash containers were five men, none younger than twenty. They were all clustered around… something.

One of them turned around from what ever they had all been grouped around. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t little ol’ Beebslee,” he leered. “Don’t suppose you remember me, do ya? This really is turning out to be Memory Lane 101!”

Kaiba’s fists tightened. A vague and rather nasty memory was rising to the surface of his mind, the way bile rose up through the throat and into the mouth. The man in front of him was twenty two years old. Kaiba knew that because he had been…three years? Yes, three year his senior when they had last met. It was almost pathetic that Kaiba had trouble remembering the names of some of the men he now met on board meetings but could still recall so much about this insignificant worm.

He and his pack had been the biggest bullies about when Kaiba and Mokuba had been at school. Kaiba had given this lot more than a few knocks on the jaw and had received more than a few beatings in return. Even when Kaiba and Mokuba had gone off to the orphanage in a bigger city his boy had his goons had still managed to pay their respects at last once a week.

“Why, hello, Sidney Miduff,” Kaiba said. If he had been wearing his trench coat or logo-belt, Miduff and his pack would probably have realized whom ‘Seto’ had become, and would have run away with their tails between their legs. As it was, with him dress in an old coat and ordinary shirt and pants, they saw only Seto Beebslee from their childhood.

Miduff was shorter than Kaiba, and stockier, but he was still fierce looking. He had fist that looked as if they could have turned cement to prouder and black hair that was short and sprung up from his head only marginally, extenuating his brutish physique. His smirk widened as Kaiba spoke. “’Ello Beebslee,” he said. “Us and your brother have already re-met. We’ve been going over some old times together.”

Another of the men lifted from the ground whatever they had all been huddled around. He smirked at the look of horror that must had flittered across Kaiba’s face. The man was holding a very beat up Mokuba. Blood was poring freely out of his nose, and he had an ugly swelling under one eye. It was pretty clear what had happened. Mokuba had followed the same rout that they had followed. He had gone through the entire town until finally coming to the school. Miduff and his cronies might have seem quite early on in his arrival, but had waited for him to walk off to the fringe of Teller before they actually sprung on him. Those sick bastards… Those fucking sick bastards!

“You pervs!” Kaiba jumped. He had nearly forgotten that Joey was still with him.

Miduff looked from Kaiba to Joey. “And who might you be?” he asked, smirking.

“A friend,” Joey answered shortly. “And you’re gonna let go of Mokuba, or feel my fist!” Joey raised one of his boney arms and waived it threateningly at the assembly.

“Ya want him?” Miduff grabbed the uncurious Mokuba by the hair, exposing his face to a blast of freezing air and to the sickened public. “Come and get ‘im.”

Joey stepped up to stand right next to Kaiba. He had un-slung his backpack from his shoulder and was now holding it loosely in one hand. “On three,” he muttered.

Kaiba nodded grimly.

“THREE!”

Water erupted everywhere and the two kicked their feet forward and propelled themselves against the onslaught of rain and royal gits. Joey brought his very heavy backpack full of food down on one of the men’s heads, kneeing him in the stomach at the same time. Joey personally always preferred fist fights to duels. Fists some how seemed more decisive.

Kaiba went about it a more professional way. Unlike Joey, he had taken marshal arts. He had two men out cold in one blink of an eye. He let a cruel smirk twitch his mouth as he slammed one of the men’s heads against the pavement.

Kaiba straitened up again, just in time to see Joey fall to the pavement, entangled with the fourth out of five men. Kaiba would have let them finish it off by themselves, but suddenly he saw a flash of steal, and Joey let out a throttled yell. His cheek sported a large gash. Joey was now holding onto the offender’s wrist for dear life, the knife dripping his own blood all over his face. Kaiba threw himself forward, grabbed arm which was holding the knife, and twisted. The man let out a yell and dropped the weapon. Kaiba pulled him off of Joey by his hair, which was longer than Miduff’s, and knocked him out.

“Thanks,” said Joey, trying to mop up the blood pouring down his face. Kaiba offered him a hand to get up, which he took.

In unison they turned to the last man standing. Miduff had not joined it with the fighting. He had stayed back with Mokuba. “Impressive,” said Miduff, his hand under Mokuba’s arm to keep the boy in a semi standing position. “You’ve gotten good, Beebslee. But ya can’t beat this, no matter what ya do.” In the flash of a moment, Miduff had plunged his free hand into his pocket, and drawn out a knife. He grazed it, almost lovingly along Mokuba’s cheek.

Kaiba stood stock still. He knew Miduff would never kill his little brother. He lacked the nerve. But that did not mean he wouldn’t hurt him. And though Kaiba could sew him into total poverty if he chose, that would do no good for Mokuba. The damage would be done. The rain beat down on the three men and the wind pierced their coats down to their very bones. None of them moved. None of them made a sound.

Then, all of a sudden, Joey had cold feat. He mopped his bloody cheek hesitantly and he turned to Kaiba. “Look, um,” he said, not meeting the young CEO’s gaze. “I…I think I ought to go. I mean…it aint really my fight.” He looked over at the knife that was hovering by Mokuba’s neck. “I’m not always on top of the law myself…and I don’t think it would be good for me to get into any more trouble.” He nodded mutely, agreeing with himself. He was staring down at his water soaked sneakers now. “Tell me how it all turns out, won’t ya? I still owe you for saving my ass just now,” the blood dripped down from his cheek and onto his coat.” He actually look Kaiba straight in the eye then, as if backing out of a fight was the most natural thing in the world for him. “Sorry Kaiba…this aint my fight.” He repeated. And with that, Joey left. He did not even pick up his now very beaten back pack. He merely pelted away, kicking up great sprays of water as he went.

Kaiba was numb. All he could do was watch Joey sprint away. But the second he was gone, Kaiba’s insides contracted in fury. And that,said the voice in his head, is why you do not make friends. They do nothing but hurt and betray.

“You hang out with a pretty pathetic lot,” Miduff said, interrupting his thoughts.

Kaiba glared back at him. He was more resolved than ever to get his brother back. As he looked at Mokuba’s face, dripping blood from his nose, it made him almost mad with rage. He swallowed hard. He was getting his brother back. He didn’t need anyone’s help.

“Ya know…” Miduff continued. “You aint changed much. You’re still the little soft ball. Always trustin’ others, and not getting that trust don’t win the day. It’s fear Beebslee. Fear an’ Power. See that lot,” he indicated with his head to the four fallen men. “I don’ trust ‘em. And they don’ trust me. But they fear me like Hell.”

Kaiba let a harsh if sad smile touch his lips. Miduff was telling him about Power? He was telling him about Fear? How laughable. How very, very laughable. “What do you gain in doing this?” Kaiba said. And indeed, he was curious. He could understand why Pegasus had abducted Mokuba. He had wanted to use the younger brother to lure the older one into his hands. It had been the same with Marik.

But with Miduff? He didn’t even know who the man standing before him was. What could he possibly gain out of this? Kaiba didn’t understand that for bullies as low on the food chain as Miduff the only reason they ever did anything was to make themselves feel superior. Lame. Cliché. True.

Miduff’s grin widened, which only made him look even more menacing. “No reason in particular, except that I always loved to watch you squirm.”

Kaiba did not think that it would be wise to tell Miduff that he very rarely ‘watched him squirm.’ On most occasions Seto would pummel Miduff senseless and only then be dragged off by the rest of the savage’s cronies.

“And you always squirm, Seto…” Miduff said, contradicting what Kaiba had been thinking. The rain was letting up a little now, but the cold was still piercing. “Whenever you see that your little baby brother’s gonna get a beating, you become a baby yourself and try to take on the big boys.” He tilted Mokuba’s head up so that he could look at him. “I don’ know wha’ ya see in him,” he sneered. “He’s a ratty little thing, really.”

Despite the utter cold Kaiba’s blood was boiling. How he hated being in this situation. He felt so helpless. He could not move, and yet he knew he could not stay still. Miduff took the knife away from Mokuba’s cheek, and slowly began pulling it though his hair like a comb.

It was then that it happened. Joey shot out from behind one of the large trash containers clubbed Miduff on the head with a hefty piece of wood. Though Miduff’s skull was so thick that the wood made little or no effect, it infuriated him like a wild animal. He let Mokuba crumple lifelessly onto the ground and wheeled around, blindly slashing out with his knife. Joey leapt back and let the knife wiz a hairs breath by his abdomen. The distraction was all that Kaiba needed. He stepped up behind Miduff, put his hand firmly on the back of his fat neck, and squeezed. In less than a moment Miduff fell to the ground uncurious. The rain was no more than a drizzle when Kaiba looked up from the fallen hulk to Joey. He mopped his brown hair out of hi face.

“…What happened?” he asked in shock.

Joey tossed his wood aside. “I saw we weren’t gonna get anywhere with him with knife and us not about to leave, so,” he shrugged, dabbing his still breading cheek with his sleeve, “I played a little dirty. Pretended to quit on ya, doubled round the second I was out of sight, found this awesome and very useful piece of wood, and snuck up from behind him.”

Kaiba stared at him in shock. He knew Joey had taken a risk. If he had miscalculated and Kaiba had managed to get the upper hand over Miduff before Joey could come from behind, Kaiba would never have trusted him again. “I…I doubted you,” Kaiba began. It was the closest to an apologue he would ever make to anyone but Mokuba.

Joey merely brushed it off. “I’m just that good of an actor,” he smirked, but quickly stopped. It obviously hurt his cheek. “Now, what do you say we get the hell outta here before these goons wake up?”

“…ya.”

It was only when they were on the other side of the school fence again that they paused. Kaiba was carrying Mokuba in his arms and Joey had his old, now battered, backpack over his shoulder. Mokuba looked awful and Joey suspected that his nose was broken. “Where to from here? The local hospital?’

Kaiba nearly dropped his brother. “NO!” he snapped, much more loudly than he meant to. “Anywhere other than there…” he whispered, looking down at is brother.

“Well, Kaiba. I really don’t see anywhere else. And Mokuba don’t look ready for the train ride home if you ask–”

“I said,” Kaiba whispered dangerously, “Not. Teller. Hospital.”

“Okay, okay, have it your way. But have it your way quick. I somehow seriously doubt that this rain is gonna do much good to Mokuba’s health.” The rain itself had almost let up by now, but a fog was rolling in in its place.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” Kaiba snapped, never looking away from his brother’s bloody face. Then it came to him. “Owen!” his head snapped up to look down the street.

“Come again?”

“Owen O’Conner. He was a friend of mine when I was a kid. His mother was a doctor.” It was how Seto had learned about his parents accident so soon after it had accrued. Mrs. O’Conner had been working the same night shift as Dr. Vest.

“Okay…” Joey said hesitantly. “But how do ya know their still in this area? And do ya even remember where they lived?”

Kaiba smirked. “Teller’s a small town Wheeler. I remember.”

It took Kaiba mere minutes to find the house. The fog was really starting to accumulate. He walked down the small front path which lead though the front yard and up to the door. Kaiba remembered the yard as much bigger and the door as much larger.

“Ya do know this is gonna look a bit dodgy to anyone who opens the door now, right? Two teens carrying a beat up kid and refusing to take him to the hospital and all…”

“Just knock,” Kaiba cut him off.

Joey knocked on the door. The fog was now really picking up. Kaiba, who was standing at the bottom of the front steps, could only just make out Joey’s outline at their top. There were a few lights in the one story house, and after a moment someone could be heard coming down the hall. “I bet you it’s gonna be some old granny,” mumbled Joey’s silhouette.

The door opened and light spilled out into the misty and foggy street. From what Kaiba could see, the outline of a young man was now leaning against the opened door.

“Hey,” said Joey, his hands in his pockets. “Look, I’m sorry if we’re disturbing ya and all, but do the…what did you call them Kaiba? Callers?”

“O’Conners,” Kaiba said coldly back.

“Ya, do they live here?”

“Yes,” said the man hesitantly. “Who’s asking?”

Kaiba’s heart leapt into his mouth. He knew that Irish accent as if it were his own. “Seto Beebslee,” he said. “Now tell me Own, just how long do you plan to keep us out of the house?”

“SETO BEEBSLEE!” Yes, there was no mistaking that accent, though the voice itself had deepened tremendously. Owen passed Joey and came down the steps to hug Seto, but was prevented by Mokuba, who was still in his brother’s arms.

“Owen, I’d love to stand around chatting but could we please take advantage of your hospitality presently?” he asked, levitating past Owen and to the door without yet hearing permission granted.

When they were in the foyer, and Kaiba did not have the light against Owen’s back, he took a good look at his friend for the first time in nine years. Owen was no longer the plump boy as he had been. He was lanky and his shirt hung limply on him. But his hair was still as red, if not redder. And he was now so freckly, he almost appeared tanned.

But the smile which he had worn when Kaiba had announced himself vanished when he came in and brought Mokuba into clear, hallway light. “Jesus, what happened?”

“Can I lay him down somewhere first?” Kaiba asked curtly.

“Sure. Sorry…ya,” Owen closed the door behind them and bustled all three into a small living room. He pointed to the couch. As gently as could be, Kaiba laid Mokuba down on it and pushed a pillow under his head.

“Is you’re mom in?” Kaiba asked, brushing a few hairs out of Mokuba’s face.

“She’s at the ’ospital. And my dad won’t be back from work for hours. Blimey, Seto. Shouldn’t ya ’ave taken the poor bugger to my mum? At the–”

Kaiba turned around and gave him such a piercing stare that Owen stopped in mid-sentence.

“Do you think you could do anything for him?” he asked quietly after a pointedly long moment.

“Well don’t make it sound like the kid’s on ‘is bloomin’ death bed!” Owen said. “Let’s get him cleaned up first. Then…I’ll see what I can do.”

A few minutes later Kaiba and Joey were hovering by the wall of the living room, dripping puddles onto the rug, while Owen kneed next to Mokuba, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, mopping the blood from his face with a warm, wet towel.

Owen had been right. It did look much worse than it was. In minutes all the blood that had been forming a crust on Mokuba’s cheeks was transferred to a bowl at the foot of the couch. Only his nose remained very red. But it had stopped bleeding, and that was a good sign in itself.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Joey finally ventured.

Owen did not answer. In their few minutes of re-acquiesce, Owen had told Kaiba that he had started following his mother’s footsteps in becoming a doctor. All he said now was “’Elp me with ’im.” With Joey propping Mokuba up, Owen striped him of his shirt. It was so wet that it stuck to him like a second skin. Joey eased Mokuba back onto the couch. Owen felt around his rib cage. “There’s gonna be some bruising. See? It’s already starting up,” he pointed to a few purple blotches on the boy’s thin torso. “And when it goes it ain’t gonna show mercy, believe me. Yup, Seto. Mokie’s gonna be a proper little blue berry for the next few weeks.”

Kaiba did not answer. He merely stayed as far in his corner as he could. Owen felt around again. “But their ain’t a brakeage you’ll be glad to hear.” His hand went up to Mokuba’s nose, and gave it a slight press. At this, and for the first time since Joey and Kaiba had heard the scream from across the playground, Mokuba emitted a noise; a soft, low, groan escaped his lips. “His nose is broken,” Owen continued. “This part’s caved in.” He tapped the upper side of his nose. “No plastic surgery for that, but anesthesia’s gonna ’ave to come in for the doc to set the bone back in place. Nasty stuff, ’specially if it’s your first go at it. But he’ll live. So,” Owen got up off his knees with a heave, “recon that’s it then,” he said, looking at Kaiba.

“But why,” Kaiba sounded as if the fog had gotten clogged in his throat, it was so hoarse. “Why isn’t he awake? I mean, why hasn’t he come round yet?”

Owen gave him an incredulous look. “Oh come on Seto! I remember ya as a smart bugger! A day out in miserable weather like this? At his age? All alone? And then going though…whatever he went though!? I’d like to see you skipping around after something like that! Na, he’ll be fine. All he needs is rest. And the three of us can go into the kitchen, get some beer, I can get you bandaged up,” he nodded at Joey. The cut on his cheek seemed to have stopped bleeding as well, but it looked as if it was going to need stitches. “And you,” he turned back to Kaiba, “can start your story from the beginning – Huck,” he smirked.

---

Kaiba sat on the floor with his back propped against the couch. From the kitchen he could hear Joey and Owen talking. Owen had given them both fresh clothes. Kaiba now sat in a pair of jeans, a very wooly red sweater, and very wooly socks. He pushed his toes together, lost in thoughts. Owen had also given both of them a bottle of bear each.

They had all settled down at the small kitchen table and Kaiba had informed Owen of as much of the story as he felt in to mood to tell. After a bit, however, he had left the table and had returned to the living room to where Mokuba was. Owen and Joey could survive without him for a while. Indeed, the young Irishman and the Brooklyn urchin seemed to be getting along famously. It was rather ironically humorous – Owen probably that all of his friends were like Joey.

Now, as he half listened to the mutters from the kitchen, he was sure that Joey was trying to fill in the blanks which Kaiba had been reluctant to mention. He tilted his head and looked at his brother’s sleeping form. He had been reluctant to say just how much he had changed since he and Owen had last met.

The bear in his hands was making his already cold fingers numb. He took a swig from it. He never drank. There was not a drop of alcohol in the entire mansion. But he liked the taste, oddly enough.

His eyes slid back to Mokuba’s face. Again. When would he wake up? It had to have already been over an hour since Kaiba and Joey had heard him scream. I am going to sew Miduff’s sorry ass farther into the gutter than he has ever been. And that is sewage point, Kaiba thought grimly, gripping his bottle into his palms.

His mind tried to focus back onto Joey’s voice in the kitchen. However, his mind trailed to what Joey had said, not in the kitchen, but in their confrontation with Miduff.

“And who might you be?”

“A friend.”

Kaiba blinked and looked at Mokuba again, even as tried and failed to distinguish the voices from the kitchen. Joey had called him his friend…

Was he?

Mokuba stirred. Kaiba put his bottle down on the rug and scrambled up on his knees before the couch. Mokuba let out a soft groan. Kaiba seemed forgot how to breathe. The trick of it seemed had escaped him. He just hovered over his brother, motionless. Mokuba’s eye lids fluttered, and opened. His gaze was unfocused for a few moments, but then his eyes rested on Kaiba, and he smiled.

“Seto?” he reached a hand out from under his blankets. Kaiba grabbed it. He held it tightly in his own. It was warm. It was still warm. He kissed it. Tears began to stream down his face. He felt himself shaking just a little. He hadn’t realized just how important this one thing was before he had grabbed Mokuba’s hand. Mokuba’s hand… was warm.

“Seto? Seto, what’s wrong?” Mokuba blinked rapidly, still trying to get up his bearings now that he had woken up. “What’s wrong? I… I’m sorry I ran away. I didn’t think anything would happen. I’m sorry. I really just wanted to go and find out and-”

“I thought I’d lost you,” Kaiba’s voice was shaking as badly as the rest of him. He had to press himself against the side of the couch just to subdue some of the tremors wracking through him. His face was already drenched in his own tears. “Mokie,” he whispered, kissing the little boy’s hand again. His grip on it was almost painful.

There was silence for a moment, “…What did you call me?” Mokuba swallowed.

All the barriers that Kaiba had worried about in his office collapsed. “Mokie!” he whispered, choking a little. He let go of his brother’s hand and, gently as could be, took Mokuba into his arms. “Mokie…” he whispered again, burying his face in the crook of his little brother’s neck. “Mokie.”