Remember Me
By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: As always, the YGO characters are not mine!! A couple of the basic elements of this story are based on a "Back to the Future" comic I read, but the details and everything else are my ideas! ^_~ Okay, so I've kinda used this plot before, but *never* like this. I don't think anyone will find too much similarity between this and my previous fics that have dealt with this subject. Thanx to JP for his plot help!! ^^ One final thing: A Kleenex warning is being issued for this fic!

Mokuba watched his older brother Seto working on repairing the computer down in the basement. It seemed that he had been down there forever tinkering with the intricate wiring and the microchips in the hard drive. "What's wrong with the computer anyway, big brother?" he asked finally.

Seto wrestled with a stubborn wire and finally pulled it free. "It was a memory overload, kid," he replied. "It wound up short-circuiting the entire computer." He fit the covering back over the hard drive and set the screwdriver down on the table. "But I think I have it fixed now." He pressed the Startup button to test things out.

Without warning a burst of electricity blew the cover off the hard drive and sent it flying into the air. Quickly Seto leaped up and shielded Mokuba from the airborne metal, which then struck Seto squarely on the head. He toppled forward across the table with a gasp of pain.

Mokuba gasped, horrified. "Seto!! Big brother!!" He laid a hand on the older boy's shoulder frantically.

Seto groaned and rose up slowly, clapping a hand firmly over the sore spot under his thick brown hair. "I'm fine, Mokuba," he said, managing a smile.

"Are you sure?" Mokuba asked, his gray eyes wide.

Seto ruffled his brother's hair. "Yeah. I'm sure." He went over and picked up the hard drive cover. "But the computer isn't fine. Looks like I'll be down here a while longer." He felt slightly dizzy from the blow, but he was certain the pain would go away in a few minutes. After he'd been working on rewiring the computer for several minutes, he realized with satisfaction that it had. It was just a little bump. What damage could it possibly do?
Seto worked long into the night and finally succeeded in repairing the computer during the early morning hours. It was then that it dawned on him how tired he was from the long day. He had been working on this job ever since he had gotten home from school that afternoon, and now it was almost one in the morning!

When he stood up to leave the room and go upstairs, he was surprised to find that Mokuba had fallen asleep in one of the high-backed chairs. He had thought Mokuba had probably gone upstairs hours ago, but instead the little boy had apparently been patiently waiting for Seto to finish working.

With a tender smile, Seto gently lifted his brother into his arms and carried him upstairs. Mokuba stirred and didn't exactly awaken, but he snuggled closer to Seto and hugged him tightly.

"I love you, kid," Seto whispered as he laid Mokuba down on his bed and pulled the soft comforter quilt up around the little boy's shoulders. He kissed his brother on the forehead and walked quietly out of the room to his own room down the hall.

Slowly he changed into his blue silk nightclothes and climbed into bed, realizing how tired and worn-out he was from the day's events. Before long, he had drifted into a deep sleep peppered with odd and disconcerting dreams.
As Seto slowly returned to awareness the next morning, he realized through the haze in his mind that he didn't know where he was. He rose up with a start, feeling intensely panicked.

He looked at the bed and around the nicely-furnished room in confusion, not recognizing anything in it. Was he here of his own free will, or had he perhaps been abducted? He did have a bad headache, he realized. He racked his mind frantically for memories he simply could not recall. What's happened to me?! he screamed inwardly, running his hands wildly through his hair. Where am I?! Why can't I remember?!

A cold chill ran up his spine. Who was he?

Slowly he eased himself off the bed and went over to the mirror. The boy looking back at him was a complete stranger. Seto knew he was looking at himself, and yet. . . . He tried to remember his name. Nothing. His occupation. A blank.

A soft knock came at the door. "Big brother?" a young voice called.

Seto turned away from the mirror and stared at the door. Big brother? he repeated in his mind.

"Big brother? Are you awake?" the voice called again.

Seto wasn't sure what to do. Should he answer or not?

Before he had time to decide, the door creaked open and a small boy of about ten peeked in. "Seto?" he asked, looking worried. "Why didn't you answer me? Are you okay? I thought you'd be getting up to go to school, but you've been in here all morning!"

Seto stared at the kid, who had long, black hair and shining, innocent gray eyes. He looked like a nice enough boy, but Seto couldn't remember ever having seen him before. Who was he?

"Seto?" The kid shifted uncomfortably under the older boy's searching stare.

Finally Seto spoke. "Who are you?"
Mokuba started and stepped back as if someone had struck him hard across the face. "Seto?" he said quaveringly.

"Who are you?" Seto asked again, more forcefully this time. "And why did you barge in here?"

Mokuba was shaking now. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Big brother, what's wrong?! Don't you . . . don't you know me?! It's me—Mokuba!!" He grabbed his brother's hand and looked up at him pleadingly.

Seto stared back at him. Could he trust this kid? Could he trust anyone? "No," he said finally. "I don't know you."

Mokuba stood still in disbelief. Seto didn't know him?

"I'm sorry," Seto added softly, seeing how stricken the boy was. "But I don't remember you or anything about you. I don't know who you are or who I am or where we are."

Mokuba was still at a loss for words, trying to take all this in. He couldn't believe this was really happening. "Oh big brother!!" he cried at last, throwing his arms around the older boy tightly and sobbing. "What happened to you, Seto?! You . . . you were fine last night, and now . . . now you don't even know me! . . ." He trailed off, his eyes wide.

"What? What is it?" Seto asked, caught off guard by the kid's actions.

"You . . . you got hurt by a flying piece of metal, Seto!" Mokuba replied shakily, staring into his brother's eyes and praying to see just a spark of recognition in them. "You were trying to protect me and you got hit with it! You . . . you said you were fine, but . . . but . . ." He couldn't finish. "Oh Seto!!!" Just last night his brother had lovingly carried him up to bed, and now he was standing before him, his blue eyes vacant and empty, looking as though he had never seen Mokuba before in his life.

Seto pulled away from the boy's tearful embrace, feeling uncomfortable. He had woken up with no memories at all and now this kid had come in and started crying when Seto said that he didn't know him. He tried desperately to rack his mind for some remembrance of the kid, but nothing came. This boy was a total stranger to him.

Mokuba stared at his brother, dumbfounded. Seto had never pulled away from him before. "Seto, we're really close!" he wailed. "We're the only family we've got, and you're my best friend in the whole world! . . . We've been through so much together!! How . . . how can you just forget me?" A tear slipped down his cheek.

Seto looked at the younger boy blankly. He didn't know how he could, but he had, and he didn't know how to retrieve the memories that had been lost. "I've . . . I've forgotten everything, kid," he said finally.

Mokuba felt like his heart had been shattered into millions of tiny pieces. "Seto!!" he wept. There had to be something he could do! He had to get his brother back. He drew a shaky breath and hiccuped, trying to pull himself together. "Maybe . . . maybe if you see some of the things around the house, it'll trigger a memory for you," he suggested softly.

Seto doubted it would work, but he was willing to try anything. "Alright, kid," he agreed, leading Mokuba to the door. "But first, get out of here while I get dressed." Before Mokuba had a chance to reply, Seto had shut the door on him.

Mokuba stared at the closed door, feeling the tears pricking his eyes again. Usually when Seto called him "kid," he said it with the utmost affection and kindness. Now it just sounded like something Seto was calling him because he had no clue who either of them was. This was unreal! "Oh Seto . . ." he whispered. "Why did you have to forget me?" He knew it wasn't Seto's fault—Seto would never deliberately do anything to hurt his brother—but still, it did hurt. And . . . and what if he never regained his memory? That was too dreadful to even think about, but Mokuba knew it was a very real possibility. Brushing aside his tears, the little boy ran to the phone and called a doctor at the hospital. Between sobs, he explained what had happened to Seto and then asked what he could do.

"You've gotta help us!" Mokuba pleaded. "I . . . I can't stand seeing him like this!"

The doctor paused. "Alright," he said finally, "I'll come out to see him this afternoon. But Mokuba," he added seriously, "I'm afraid there's really not much I will be able to do. I can't restore his memories for him."

"I know," Mokuba said softly. "But . . . how much chance is there that they will be restored?" he asked shakily.

"It's really different in every case," the doctor told him, trying to be comforting. "And since you and your brother share such a special bond, the chances of him remembering are that much greater than they might be otherwise." He prayed he was right.

Mokuba thanked the doctor and hung up. Quickly he found the maid, Anna, and told her about Seto and that the doctor would be coming out.

"Your brother doesn't remember anything?" Anna asked in utter disbelief.

"No," Mokuba sniffled.

Anna stared at the little boy, seeing how his heart was breaking. She laid a hand on his shoulder comfortingly for a moment and then disappeared into a room down the hall.

Shortly afterward, Seto's bedroom door opened and the boy stepped out, dressed in his green shirt and pants and blue trenchcoat. His brown hair was combed neatly, but his blue eyes were still cold and vacant as he regarded Mokuba. "Alright. What is it you want me to do?" he asked guardedly.

"Just . . . come with me, big brother," Mokuba replied, trying not to cry again. He led Seto into the boy's home office and found a print-out of some of the data from Seto's virtual reality game on the desk. "You like to make video games, Seto," he said, handing the papers to his brother. "This is a list of characters from one of your projects."

Seto looked the list over, baffled. "And this is supposed to help me how?" he asked.

Mokuba took the papers back. "I guess it won't," he said softly, setting them back on the desk. He opened the locket around his neck.

"What's that?" Seto demanded, staring suspiciously at the picture inside, which seemed to be of a younger version of himself.

"It was taken when we were in the orphanage, big brother," Mokuba told him. "There were lots of people who wanted to adopt you. They said you were a genius and that they'd treat you really well and everything." He paused, looking up at the older boy intently. "But you refused to go without me," he said quietly. "You said nothing would ever separate us! Don't you remember, big brother?"

Seto stared at him. "No, I don't remember," he said finally. "I don't remember that, and I don't remember you."

Tears spilled down Mokuba's face. "But . . . you've . . . you've gotta remember me, Seto!!" he cried. "You've just gotta!!"

Seto didn't answer and instead turned away. He longed to remember, but no matter how hard he tried, the memories wouldn't come.

A knock came at the office door. "Mokuba?" Anna's voice called. "The doctor's here."

"Doctor?!" Seto turned back to Mokuba, looking upset. "You didn't tell me you called a doctor."

Mokuba looked down. Seto never had liked doctors or hospitals, and even without his memory, he still didn't. "Send him in, Anna," he called.

The door opened and the doctor came in. "Hello, Seto and Mokuba," he greeted.

"Hi," Mokuba replied softly. Seto just crossed his arms and looked frustrated.

The doctor shined a flashlight into Seto's eyes and then examined the bump on his head, much to the boy's annoyance. After a short attempt at a conversation with Seto—who wasn't feeling talkative, understandably—the doctor walked out of the room with Mokuba.

"How is he?" Mokuba asked.

"He seems to be in very good health for the most part," he told the boy slowly. "His biggest ailment is his loss of memory, and as I told you, Mokuba, I can't do much about that."

Mokuba nodded. He had expected this. "But . . . but what . . . what if he never remembers?" he wailed.

The doctor paused. "We will just have to have the faith that he will," he said finally. "Don't give up on him, Mokuba."

"I won't," Mokuba said, brushing a stray tear away. "I'll never give up on my brother!"
Seto stood at the window, staring out blankly at the darkening sky. Why couldn't he remember anything? He could see how much that kid cared about him and it cut him to the core that the boy had to see him like this, when he was unable to recall anything about him or what they'd been through together.

He heard the door open slowly behind him. "Seto?" Mokuba asked softly.

"Leave me alone," Seto replied coldly, not turning around.

"Big brother?" Mokuba sounded crushed.

Seto shook his head. "Kid . . . I'm sorry," he said finally. "I . . . I need to be alone right now. And . . . I don't like for you to see me like this."

Mokuba didn't answer, but Seto heard the door close softly with a click. Great, he thought to himself with a sigh, I've just made things worse.
Mokuba sat on a backless couch in one of the mansion's long corridors dejectedly. He could understand Seto's feelings, but he still wished he could be there for him. He wished more than anything that he could go in and find that Seto did remember him, but he knew that wouldn't happen. Memories couldn't just return with no rhyme or reason . . . could they? "Seto . . . please remember me, big brother!" he whispered. "Somehow, someway, you've . . . you've just gotta!! I can't lose you . . . not now, not ever, and not like this!!!"

Suddenly Mokuba felt a cold chill run up his spine. Someone was standing behind him. He whirled around and came face to face with a horrible-looking man holding a gun. "Who are you?!" Mokuba demanded. "How did you get in??!"

"Through the window," the man hissed. "Now . . . I won't hurt you, as long as you do exactly what I say." He snatched the boy into his arms. "I'm runnin' from the cops, see, and they won't shoot me if I have a hostage . . . especially if it's a kid like you."

"You can't take me!!" Mokuba screamed, struggling against the man's superhuman strength.

"Try to get away and I'll shoot you down," the man warned, and the gun clicked.
Seto, hearing the commotion, ran to the door and threw it open. His eyes went wide in horror at the sight of that kid being held captive by a brutish, gun-wielding man and suddenly something clicked in his mind. "Mokuba!!" he screamed. The man paused, moving the gun away from Mokuba to point it into the darkness around them, and Seto knew he had his chance. He ran up behind the man and grabbed him viciously, causing him to drop Mokuba to the floor.

"Big brother!!!" Mokuba shrieked.

Seto fought with the man furiously, trying to keep him from pointing the gun at him or Mokuba. The little boy watched in horror as the deadly weapon was flung from side to side, and then discharged into the ceiling. Suddenly Seto had the gun, but before he could get a good grip on it, the man knocked it out of his hand and through the window.

"Now you don't have a weapon to use," Seto remarked, confused at the intruder's actions.

"That's what you think," the man sneered. Before Seto could react, the man had pulled a knife out of his pocket and plunged into the boy's chest. Seto screamed in agony, clutching the wound frantically as he doubled over. Blood oozed from between his fingers and dripped to the floor.

Mokuba screamed as well. "Seto!!" He leaped up, fully intending to attack the wicked man himself.

"No . . . Mokuba, don't," Seto protested haltingly. He struggled to stand up straight.

"You're done for now," the man sneered. "And the kid's comin' with me!"

"No, he's not." Seto looked up, his steely gaze fixed on his attacker. He was becoming weak fast, but somehow he managed to pull off one last stunt. As the man dove at him, intending to use the now-bloody knife again, Seto managed to kick out and hit him in the stomach in an attempt to knock him to the floor. Instead the man tripped and flew backwards, crashing out through a nearby window. He let out a scream of terror as he plummeted to the ground.

Seto stood still for one long minute and then collapsed to the floor, one hand still held over the wound tightly.

Mokuba was at his side instantly, tears in his eyes. "Seto!! Seto, speak to me, big brother!!" He took Seto's other hand, sobbing.

Seto's eyes fluttered open. "Mokuba . . . little brother . . ." He looked at the younger boy pleadingly. "Forgive me . . ."

"Forgive you?!" Mokuba repeated. "For what, Seto?!"

Seto drew a rasping breath. "For . . . for ever forgetting you, Mokuba. . . ." He shuddered.

"Seto, there's nothing to forgive," Mokuba cried, his heart breaking. "You . . . you couldn't help it! . . . It wasn't your fault!!" He trailed off as his brother's eyes closed. "Seto?" he quavered.

The older boy weakly squeezed Mokuba's hand before his own hand went limp.

"Seto!! Big brother!!" Mokuba shrieked, horrified. What was he going to do now?!

Quickly he checked Seto's wrist for a pulse and was relieved to find one. His brother had only passed into unconsciousness, and not . . . Mokuba couldn't finish that thought. Shaking, he looked around and spotted the phone. Grabbing it, he dialed 911 and spoke to the operative frantically. "Send an ambulance to the Kaiba mansion right now!!" he screamed. "My brother's been stabbed in the chest!!" As soon as he knew the paramedics were on their way, Mokuba hung up and was at his brother's side again.

"Seto? Please be alright! . . ." The little boy shakily lifted Seto's other hand from over the wound and unbuttoned his brother's shirt. He tried not to cry out in horror as he stared at the deep gash and the blood. "Oh Seto . . . hang in there. . . ." Mokuba found a handkerchief and pressed it against the abrasion, feeling completely helpless and overwrought.

Before long the paramedics arrived and they examined Seto's body in concern.

"Will he be alright?" Mokuba asked shakily.

The EMT shook her head. "We can hope so, hon," was all she said as she checked Seto's vital signs.

"His pulse is weak," a second EMT said grimly. "He's lost a lot of blood . . . maybe too much."

"No!" Mokuba cried. "Seto, you've gotta pull through!!" He held his brother's hand gently. "You've just gotta!!"

"We have to get him to the hospital right now," the first EMT declared.

Mokuba tried to control his tears as he climbed into the ambulance. What would he do if Seto . . . didn't make it?
Mokuba paced the waiting room floor anxiously. Seto had been brought in hours ago and rushed into the emergency room, and he hadn't heard anything since then. Finally he saw the doctor coming out, looking exhausted and worn-out.

"Is Seto gonna live??!" Mokuba demanded to know.

The doctor sighed. "It's hard to say," he said gently. "The knife just barely missed his heart. Just an inch or so over and . . . Well, he wouldn't even be here."

Mokuba gasped and breathed a prayer of immense gratitude that the attacker had been off in his aim. "How . . . how is he?" the boy whispered.

The doctor laid a hand on Mokuba's shoulder. "He's lost a lot of blood," he said quietly. "He needs a transfusion immediately."

Mokuba blinked, digesting this information. "Please!" he cried then. "Give him my blood! I've gotta save my brother!!"

The doctor smiled kindly. "I'm sorry, Mokuba, but you're too young to donate blood. I can't allow you to do it."

"But I have to!!" Mokuba insisted. "This is an emergency!! You've gotta let me do it!!"

The doctor shook his head. "No, I'm sorry." He paused. "But he will get the blood he needs. I promise. Someone who wishes to remain anonymous is donating their blood for him."

"Who?" Mokuba demanded.

"They wanted their identity kept secret," the doctor told him.

Mokuba nodded slowly. "Can I see my brother?" he asked.

The doctor paused. "Of course," he said finally. "But he's still in critical condition." He led Mokuba down a seemingly endless corridor and into a room at the end. "You can stay with him as long as you want. Press this red button here if he becomes worse," he instructed, and left.

Mokuba stared at his brother's still form. Seto looked so pale and lifeless. . . . His long bangs fell against his eyes and his hands were unmoving at his sides. He was still wearing his green pants, but his chest was bare—except for the bandage over the knife wound. Mokuba was glad that they hadn't made his brother wear a hospital gown. Seto couldn't stand those things.

Mokuba climbed into a chair next to the bed and took Seto's hand gently. The only sign that the older boy was alive—besides the heart monitor's steady beeping—was his slightly raspy breathing and the slow rising and falling of his chest. "Seto?" Mokuba asked softly. His beloved brother didn't answer, and his breathing slowed even more. Mokuba realized with alarm that the other boy was dying. "Seto!! You can't go!!" he wailed, pressing the red button frantically. "Stay with me, big brother!! Stay with me!!"

Seto tried hard to fight to stay alive, gasping for breath. Mokuba watched, frightened and horrified. "You can make it, Seto," he said shakily, gripping his brother's hand. "Please . . . keep fighting, Seto!! Don't give up!!"

Seto wasn't about to give up, but it seemed that all his efforts were in vain. With a final gasp, his breathing stopped entirely and the heart monitor flatlined. Mokuba couldn't believe it. "No, Seto, no," he whispered, climbing onto the bed and embracing his brother tightly. Tears splashed onto the older boy's motionless body as Mokuba sobbed uncontrollably. "Don't go, Seto," he pleaded. "Don't leave me!"

"I'm sorry, Mokuba," a voice said quietly. Mokuba looked up to see the doctor standing in the doorway, his eyes sad. "The loss of blood was just too much for him."

"No!!" Mokuba shook his head. "My brother's a fighter. He wouldn't leave me!! He'd never leave me, not if he could at all help it!!"

"In his case, I'm afraid he couldn't help it," the doctor replied gently. "But he tried his best." He walked over slowly to the bed and disconnected the heart monitor.

Mokuba found this to be a very thoughtless thing to do right at this point. It seemed to say without a doubt that Seto was gone and wouldn't be coming back, and he couldn't accept that! He clung to his brother's body protectively. "Why did you do that?" he demanded.

The doctor paused. "He's dead, Mokuba," he said finally. "You have to accept that sometime, and it's better to do it sooner than later."

Mokuba shook his head. He couldn't believe this man. Their regular doctor was much more compassionate than this. "Please leave," the little boy said quietly.

The doctor gave him a hard stare, then turned and walked out of the room.

Mokuba looked into his brother's pale face. "Oh Seto . . ." he wailed. This whole day had been one nightmare after another. Seto had gone through most of the day with amnesia, and then when he finally did remember his brother, he had been stabbed with that horrible knife. Mokuba had heard that the evil man who had attacked them had broken his leg when he'd fallen off the balcony and was now in police custody. It wasn't fair at all—that that awful man would recover, while Seto lay dead from the attack.

And there was something else that puzzled him—how *had* Seto's memory returned? One minute Seto's blue eyes had been vacant and cold, and the next they had been warm and kind, just as Mokuba had always remembered them. But he would never know the answers now.

"I love you, big brother," he whispered. He lay down on the bed next to Seto's body and hugged the boy gently.

"Mokuba . . . I love you, too."

Mokuba sprang up at the sound of the voice he had so longed to hear. Was it possible? "Seto?" he exclaimed hopefully.

The older boy looked up at him and smiled, reaching up to wipe a stray tear away from Mokuba's cheek.

"Oh Seto!! I knew you wouldn't leave me!" Mokuba exclaimed, embracing his beloved brother and sending a prayer of thanksgiving up to the heavens. "But I was so afraid you were . . ."

Seto returned the hug weakly. He couldn't remember what had happened, only that he had known he couldn't depart from this world. "Mokuba," he said softly, holding on to the little boy with all the strength he could muster, "I'm so sorry I forgot you. . . ."

"It's alright, Seto," Mokuba replied, looking into his warm blue eyes. "I told you, I knew you couldn't help it. It wasn't your fault." Now he paused. "But Seto, how were you able to remember?" he asked.

Seto grew very serious and raised himself up a bit. "It was the shock of seeing you in danger, Mokuba," he explained. "When I saw that snake holding you hostage, something in my memory clicked. I remembered who you are, who I am, and how much we mean to each other. I couldn't let anything happen to you," he said quietly.

Mokuba nodded. The explanation made sense. "I'm so glad to have you back, big brother!" he declared.

"And I'm glad to be back, Mokuba," Seto said softly. He still looked extremely pale, and Mokuba noticed this worriedly.

"You'd better try to get some rest, big brother," the younger boy said. "You're still awfully weak!"

"I'll be fine, kid," Seto replied affectionately, but he leaned back into the soft pillows anyway. Mokuba snuggled up next to him and Seto put his arm around his brother.

"You're my best friend in the whole world, Seto!" Mokuba said softly.

"And you're mine, kid," Seto told him, gently tousling the younger boy's hair.