AN: Hello and welcome to my first Romance ficcy! Well, true to my nature, it's not pure romance. Loads of action, Seto, swearing, some more Seto, Violence, Even more Seto, and now that odd touch of love. Did I mention Seto? The response says I did. I don't know what else to say really. The beginning is kind of confusing, but I explain more later, so you've just gotta hang in there. Anyway, It's a really long story (I write the entire story before I post it, that's how I know), so I might wait a few days between chapters. Just a heads up. Okay, for those of you whole actually read author notes, it ends here. On with the Fic!

Disclaimer: Own nothing?

Hurts I

I stared down at my brother and pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. The oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth and I could hear his harsh breathing, which echoed in the all white room. He had a lot of sensors and other tubes all over his body and every once and a while a nurse would come in to inspect them and some monitors. One of them, Mary, I think, was just leaving the room when the doctor came in.

"Sir?" The nurse called to the doctor in a whisper. I hadn't decide yet whether the staff didn't want to disturb me or if they just didn't want me to overhear their conversations. Either way they were wasting their time. I don't think an earthquake would have bothered me, unless it was putting Mokuba in danger, and my hearing was very acute; I could hear whispers in the hall if I focused.

"Yes?" The doctor asked, equally as quiet.

"I'm worried about the boy, sir."

"Which one?"

"The older one." The nurse clarified. "He's been sitting there since his brother came in three days ago. He doesn't talk. He doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. He barely moves!"

"You shouldn't be worrying about me." I said softly. "Mokuba should be your main concern."

"Erm," The doctor coughed, approaching me. "Look, you really should take a break."

"I can't." I told him, not looking away from Mokuba. "What if he wakes up?"

"I'll be sure to tell you, now why don't you get something to-" the doctor started.

"No." I insisted. "I need to be here for him. I promised I wouldn't leave."

"He'd understand." The doctor insisted. "You need to rest. Why don't you go and get some lunch?"

"Is it noon?" I asked. "I hadn't noticed."

"Kid, I'm going to ask you one more time before I have you thrown out." The doctor told me a bit less gently.

"Can I leave him a note?" I asked. The last thing I wanted to do was to make a scene.

"Sure." The doctor smiled, pulling out a slip of paper. I pulled out one of my pens and scribbled a quick note to my sleeping brother explaining my absence. I put it on his bedside table and let the nurse led me out of the room. I sat in a chair near Mokuba's room and watched the families of other patients walking around. Twice I heard an excited shout as someone's child pulled out of danger or awoke from a coma. Once I heard the long beep and muffled sobs as someone left their family. For the first time in a long while I felt empathy for someone other than Mokuba. I was just like the families around me really. We all hoped that our loved one would be the next to awaken or stabilize. Each of us praying to our god, asking them why we had been chosen to endure this hardship. We all feared that our relative would not recover from their wounds. I felt my mind slid back over the past few days. The wires; the nurses; the ambulance; the blood; the park.


I smiled as Mokuba threw a biscuit to the ducks in the pond and laughed with him as the nearest few fought over it. I handed him another one and he moved to throw it. I watched as his body slammed forward and his eyes shot open, as a loud cry escaped his lips. I leaned over him and pressed my hand to his back. I watched as loads of warm sticky liquid ooze out of his lower back, coloring his shirt red. I gaped at his wounds unable to move before I managed to come to my senses and pulled off my coat. As I attempted to press my jacket to the wound so that the bleeding would stop, I looked around for help. I had just realized that the nearest help was another man who was running over from the other side of the large pond when I saw a tall man step out of the trees and smirk at me.

"Please!" I begged. "Help me."

"No." The man laughed, putting a gun back into his coat pocket. "Why should I? This is what you get Seto Kaiba. Be warned."

I watched in horror as the man walked away apparently unconcerned that my brother was in pain and trouble. I shook myself out of my daze and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed the emergency number and let the man from across the pond hold my jacket to Mokuba's back.

"Hello?" a voice answered.

"Hello! My brother has just been shot!" I said quickly, worry evident in my voice. "I'm at west Mountains Park on the south side of the duck pond. Hurry!"

"An ambulance is on its way sir." The dispatcher replied.

End Flashback

I let my head drop into my hands as I re-thought that day.

'It's all my fault!' I screamed at myself. 'If it weren't for me Mokuba would be at home or school now. It should be me in there! I should be the one who was shot! Why Mokuba? He didn't do anything! I did!'

I felt my shoulders hunch over as the nurse came out of the room.

"He's out of the coma." She told me gently. "He woak up a few seconds ago but the doctor has given him some sleeping gas. The doctor said I'm to escort you out of the hospital. You aren't allowed to come back until tomorrow. We don't want you to get sick."

"Can't I just..." I began, getting to my feet. The nurse took my hand and led me away from Mokuba's room. I tried to pull away but her grip was strong and I wasn't in my best shape. I was taken to the car park and the nurse stood in the doorway, clearly meaning to stop my attempts to re-enter the hospital. I sighed and got into my car. I didn't know where I was going but after a half-hour drive, I got out and locked my car. After deciding that I was fully lost I took a look around. The streets and buildings were fairly run down and most of the street lamps were broken or giving only a limited amount of light, so that shadows fell everywhere. I had no idea what I was doing but I wanted to get rid of the terrible feeling I had inside. Anything would do. Drugs, sex, fighting, anything; I really didn't care. I turned down a particularly deserted street and took a look around. In one of the corners of the alley, a figure sat smoking a cigarette. I walked over, and was going to ask for one, when I noticed that the figure was Joey Wheeler. He looked up and seemed to notice me for the first time.

"Kaiba." He sneered.

"Joey." I nodded.

"What do ya want?" He asked, standing up. He took his cigarette out and threw it on the ground, crushing it beneath his foot.

"Just passing through mutt." I snarled. If I couldn't have a cigarette, a bit of pain would be a nice substitute.

"Ya wanna say that again?" Joey asked me, a group of other boys stepping out of the shadows. I cursed myself for not having seen them earlier. "Ya see, when ya mess wid one of us, ya mess wid all of us."

"I know, you stupid puppy dog." I spat. There was no way that I would let Joey Wheeler intimidate me. The gang grouped in tighter and soon it was just Joey and I in the middle of a large circle. Joey swung a fist at my face and I let it hit my left cheekbone, my face moving slightly to the side with the momentum of his punch. He swung at my right cheekbone and, again, I didn't block.

"You to scared to fight back?" Joey taunted. I didn't answer. This seemed to make him madder and hit harder. Not that this bothered me in the slightest. Another boy stepped into the circle and swung at my back while Joey kicked my in the stomach. I doubled over and used my hands so that my face didn't hit the concrete. I felt a bit of blood run off my tongue. I must have bit it when Joey kicked me. I spit the blood out and watched as it dyed the ground. The second kid hauled me to my feet and held my arms behind my back so I couldn't defend myself. I didn't feel up to it anyway. The world was dimming. The lack of food and rest was beginning to show. A week ago I could have defended myself and, even if I hadn't been able to or wanted to, none of the blows would have hurt much. I watched Joey swing twice at my right eye and once at my nose. The guy holding my hands let me fall to the ground and I touched my bloody nose. My right eye was swelling shut and I could feel the bruises on my cheekbones. I fell on my side and felt someone's foot collide with my back. By this time the pain was being masked by unconsciousness and I barley felt a thing. I heard a couple voices talking and then yelling before the world turned black.