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Not This Time	By : NihilEtNemo Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5238 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 16
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Chapter Seventeen – The Future

Seto’s POV

I lie next to him, listening to him sleep wrapped around me, trying not to sleep myself. I don’t want to dream again, to tell the truth.

Sometimes the dreams aren’t so bad. I dream sometimes of our past lives, and when that happens and it’s one I hadn’t previously remembered I record it on my computer. When it’s one I already knew about, I’m content to relive it. Most of them aren’t so bad, because he was there with me, at least at my every death. A lot of times, we were fairly happy together. One that still kind of bothers me, sticks in my head and doesn’t let me forget it, is the ‘Eastern-European villagers’ life. Where I was a girl. His wife. His pregnant wife. I don’t know why that bothers me so much, but I think about it at random times. That, if nothing else, distracts me from my work more often than not. Most of the time, I try to forget it. It’s hard, though. Mostly… because it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels natural. It’s… strange.

I dream about Gozaburo less and less often now. I think Atemu protects me from those dreams just by being here. With him, knowing everything that’s happened between us before, what’s happened to me in this life is no longer so important.

The most disconcerting of my dreams haven’t stopped, though. I don’t know what they mean. I just don’t want them. And being with Atemu, with Yami, does nothing to lessen them – if anything, they seem stronger now that I’m with him.

With a sigh, I turn over and let him wrap his arms around me in his sleep. I don’t know what changed, but he’s refused to let go of me since I came home, lavishing attention upon me for no reason, as far as I can tell. I don’t mind, as such, but it’s uncomfortable, and unfamiliar, frankly. I don’t know why it’s happening, so it makes me kind of wary. At best.

He claims it’s nothing, though, and I have no real reason not to trust him. He’s told me several times today that he doesn’t deserve me, but he won’t elaborate – that idea makes me uncomfortable. How could he possibly think he doesn’t deserve me? He’s so much better than I am in every way… He’s saved me repeatedly, has always been there for me even when I didn’t want him to be. It’s I that doesn’t deserve him.

I don’t really mind so much, of course, when the attention he lavishes upon me includes making love to me not once but four times. It’s lucky Mokuba is with his friends again… it probably would have traumatized him to find us at dinner… and then he decided he needed to help me take my shower to get the potatoes out of my hair… and then he needed to apologize for the tile-pattern pressed into my back… It’s almost like he’s trying to get me pregnant again. I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but no, I don’t think I mind that much.

I smile at the memories, and despite my best efforts, I can’t keep my eyes open much longer (he very effectively wore me out). I don’t want to sleep, and perchance to dream, but I may have no choice. I suppose I could get out of bed, but I don’t want to leave his arms. It’s so comfortable and warm here…

There is darkness.

There is little more than darkness. It’s just dark and cold all around. Am I alone?

No. He’s with me. I try to hold onto him, because I want and need to be with him, but there’s something standing in my way. Something large and cold and black.

I think it might be myself.

His blood red eyes fall on me. I try desperately to reach him, but I can’t get to him. I need to get to him! I need him! I cannot live without him! I can’t get to him, but I keep trying – I must reach him. I need him. I need him…

I keep trying for him, but the closer I get… the dimmer he seems. He’s fading away from me. And he wants me to reach him, no matter how much he fades. He needs me too. He doesn’t mind what happens to him, any more than I would care what happened to me if it meant I could be with him…

I reach for him and collapse into his arms, but only fall into darkness and coldness and the stench of death…

“Seto? Seto, what is it?”

“Don’t go…” My voice is a hoarse whisper, but I don’t care to change it. “Don’t leave me…”

“Sh…” His hand strokes through my hair. I’m only now becoming aware that I’m holding onto him tight enough to hurt him. That’s probably what woke him up. It’s unbelievably difficult, but I force myself to loosen my grip and just lie there. I’ve yet to open my eyes, but the feeling of him being here beside me is enough. “Sh, Seto, I’m not going anywhere.”

I take a deep breath and open my eyes, met with a view of his chest, against which I’ve buried my face. I take another deep breath, inhaling his scent, and pull myself back. His hand stays with my hair, and I lean into it.

“Bad dream?” he asks understandingly.

“Nightmare,” I confirm. “The closer I got to you, you just faded away… conscious and subconscious fears of me pushing you away materializing themselves as a metaphorical situation while my conscious mind has no control. It’s all right now.”

I hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “Only you, Seto… Only you would calm yourself from a nightmare by doing that.”

“It’s a logical explanation, and when you apply logic very little is at all frightening.”

He smiles again and runs his fingers through my hair. I see his point. I understand that it might be strange not to let my emotions run amok and control my reactions. I don’t really understand why he thinks it’s funny. It’s a logical thing to do, and the world would probably be a much better place if everyone did it.

“You know I’m not going to leave you, right?” he says, sounding as though he’s coaxing a reluctant child into realizing something. I almost have the energy to resent that.

Instead I sigh. “Yes, of course I know. I do trust you.” I open my eyes and look up at him. “It was only a dream, Atemu.”

His smile is a little distant. “Sometimes there’s no such thing as ‘only a dream’, Seto. You know my name because of a dream.” I must have a strange expression on my face, because his smile becomes genuine and he ruffles my hair – which he knows I hate. “But this is only a dream, or maybe just a sign of your fears, just as you say. I was just making sure you weren’t taking it as a sign of something.”

“If you’ve put up with me and my personality for all these lifetimes, Atemu,” I say, pillowing my head on his chest again and closing my eyes, “I don’t really think I’m going to drive you off now.”

“Why not?” he asks, in that coaxing tone of voice again. At least one of us has to say this phrase every day, though…

“Because it’s different this time.”

Just hearing it sends a warm comfortable thrill through me, and saying it makes everything seem just fine. My life hasn’t really been okay and worry-free since I was five years old, since Mokuba was born and my mother died. He makes it okay again. He makes the future look bright and comfortable, not something to be scared of or worried about. It’ll happen, and it’ll be okay.

I really do love him. I understand why I’ve died for him. I would do it again.

But I don’t have to.

It’s different this time.

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--AUTHOR'S NOTE - 02/11/11--

This story has been abandoned. Reasons:

-I no longer like OOC uke Seto. He's way too OOC to fix here.

-Discouragement over how much more there is actually left to write.

-Lack of ideas.

-The story is old and crappy.

I'm very sorry to everyone who wanted it finished, and thank you for your reviews and interest, but it is dead.
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Not This Time

Chapter Seventeen – The Future