Yu-Gi-Oh!

Stirring Up Ghosts

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters from the show aren't mine. The other characters and the story are! Thanks to Azalea542 for help with the title! This takes place in my post-series Pendulum Swings verse, which redeems the Big Five. The opening scene is an expanded blurb I wrote for 31 Days' April 6th 2019 prompt, You've got salvation you've got scars.

Chapter One

Lector took a deep breath as he unlocked and pushed open the door to the small house. He hadn't been here in so many years, and really hadn't ever planned to return at all after the falling-out with his family. But his mother had contacted him and told him that if he wanted anything in there, he should come get it out, as the family was planning a new use for the little cabin that was situated in a corner of the mansion's property. He had decided he did want to look and see what was there in case he wanted anything, so he had flown to New Orleans with his friends in tow as support. While they were there, he also planned to see Evangeline, of course. But he wanted to get this out of the way first.

"This is a cozy place," Crump commented as Lector switched on the lights, bathing the large living area in a glow. A dark green couch was positioned against a partition that went halfway up the wall, separating the main area from a computer nook. Several doors around the room presumably led to other rooms, including an odd door in the corner.

Lector nodded. "I always loved it here. I was allowed to use it for my own when I wanted to get away from the chaos and commotion in the mansion. As I grew older, I performed my first work here on that computer." He nodded to the old model.

"Does that fossil even still work?" Nesbitt grunted.

"Let's find out. If it still has copies of my old documents, I may want to take it with me, or at least get the files off of it." Lector walked over and pressed the button. The computer loaded, not seeming any the worse for wear despite the many years of inactivity.

"You don't suppose somebody's been using it since you were here, do you?" Crump wondered. "Like Marie or Evangeline?"

"It's possible," Lector said. "I wouldn't mind if they did."

Johnson wandered around the room and finally opened the corner door, confused and intrigued by the oddity. He was greeted by a closet with several small shelves of boxes. The one whose contents he could most clearly see looked like it contained children's drawings. He took down the top one and studied the image of a yard with blue sky and white clouds overhead. "Did you draw this?" he asked.

Lector glanced over. "Yes. . . ."

"Doesn't your mother want any of these things?" Johnson said in chagrin.

"I don't know if she even knows they're here," Lector said. "Nor do I know if she would care." He turned back to the computer and typed.

Gansley sighed sadly. He felt the woman would not, but he didn't want to voice that feeling. Instead he walked over to another door and opened it. It led to a short hall, with a door on each side.

Nesbitt wandered past him to explore. The door on the left opened into a bathroom. On the right was a bedroom. "This must have been paradise to a kid," he commented. He certainly would have loved a set-up like this, a place to escape to when solitude was desired.

"I spent many happy hours here," Lector said. He inserted a flash drive he had brought with him and proceeded to copy the files on the computer.

". . . So, what are you gonna do with all this stuff?" Crump wondered. He looked to the boxes in the closet. "Are you gonna take it?"

"Is there really any point?" Lector said. "If my mother doesn't want it, I don't know if I do either. It's just reminders of a different time, one that's long gone now. It's probably better to leave everything about it behind."

"Yeah, but . . . all of these things you made. . . ." Crump went to the closet now and took out more pictures from the box. "You can't ever get any of this back if it's just tossed. . . ."

"Just like my family's love," Lector grunted. He finished copying the files and ejected the flash drive.

Crump exchanged a sickened look with Gansley. He knew all too well what it was like to have a rotten family, but in Lector's case they had once been good. How much worse was it for him to lose them after knowing their love for so long?

"I'll tell you what, Crump," Lector said as he started to get up from the computer. "If you don't think I should leave these things behind to probably get thrown out, then you take them. Maybe someday I'll want them, maybe I won't, but at least they'll be with somebody who actually cares about them."

"Yeah?" Crump shuffled through the pictures and then put them back in the box. "You're on, Buddy." He lifted the box out of the closet. "Anytime you change your mind, you can come get them."

Lector nodded. He wasn't sure he ever would, but it actually did feel nice, to know that someone really was still interested.

"You wanna look around anymore?" Crump asked.

"You go ahead and load everything you want to take," Lector said. "Maybe I'll make sure we haven't overlooked anything." He headed for the hallway.

Gansley gave a quiet sigh. That might be what Lector was doing, or maybe he did want to say one last Goodbye to a place that had meant so much to him in his younger years. He stood by, silently watching as Lector wandered about, opening the doors and entering every room.

Nesbitt went over to him. "Should any of us go find him or . . . ?" He sounded and looked awkward. He still tried to figure out how to fully behave as he should. Having grown up around machines while deliberately avoiding people had left him very unskilled with social situations and sometimes with common thoughtfulness. But the others were understanding and tried to help him when needed.

"I believe he might want to be alone right now," Gansley said. "This is most likely the last time he will ever see this place."

Nesbitt nodded and folded his arms to wait.

"Of course, if he doesn't return soon, then I see nothing wrong with one of us checking on him," Gansley continued.

"I sure will," Crump said. He was still pawing through the boxes and other contents of the closet. After a moment he paused and looked over at his friends. ". . . Hey, Nesbitt?"

Nesbitt grunted. "What."

"I know you've always said that you pushed people away and you were a loner because you wanted to be, but . . . was that really true?" Crump asked.

Nesbitt averted his gaze. Finally he sighed and lowered his arms. "It's true. . . . Just not the whole truth. I was never interested in socializing with anybody until I met Lector that time on vacation with my parents. When we got home, I went back to being unsociable again, although I met a kid in a playgroup I liked who might have been Johnson.

"Then I got old enough to attend public school. I was content to play at building things and liked any time when I could do that. In kindergarten they'd have specific times where kids could play at different activities around the room, you know?"

"Yeah, I remember that," Crump said.

"Sometimes I kind of hoped some of the other kids would be interested in what I was doing and want to play with me, like Lector did," Nesbitt said. "But they either ignored me or picked on me. Sometimes they'd take what I was building away from me and tear it apart to build what they wanted instead."

"That's awful!" Crump exclaimed. "And the teacher just let them?!"

"Eh." Nesbitt shrugged. "Sometimes she didn't know. But other times she definitely did; she outright told my parents at a PTA meeting that she didn't blame the other kids for ganging up on me when I just wasn't normal."

"Are you serious?!" Crump was booming now. "She should've been fired!"

"I agree," Gansley said, his voice dark. "If that had happened to my children—or grandchildren—I would have used all my power and influence to have that teacher removed from her position."

"And I would have helped you," Johnson said.

"I don't know if she ever was fired," Nesbitt said. "But I soon realized that kids could be cruel and selfish. Maybe it was their parents' fault. I don't know. I just knew I didn't want anything to do with them, so yes, I started actively pushing them away and keeping to myself."

Lector came back to the living room, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I am so sorry, my dear friend," he said quietly. "I had no idea."

"None of us did," Crump said.

Nesbitt sighed, looking a little embarrassed. "I said I'd had a relatively happy and normal childhood until I hit puberty. I meant it. I guess I thought almost all kids were either the victims of bullying or were bullies themselves. . . . And that only a select few were too rich and important to be bullied or bother with being bullies. In any case, I didn't have it as bad as some others did. I suppose I thought it wasn't any big deal. I was happy . . . when I wasn't at school."

"Any bullying's a big deal," Crump said. He sighed. "We should know, in more ways than one. . . . A lot of us sure bullied the kids in Noa's world."

No one could disagree with that.

"My childhood actually was normal and happy," Lector said. "I knew nothing of such problems until I left New Orleans and went to Domino City to work. Then I saw that bullying doesn't stop when the bullies grow up. And I grew more and more outraged whenever I saw it."

"But you weren't a victim of it then. You were betrayed by your own family, whereas it was always only strangers and classmates who tortured me." Nesbitt frowned. "What happened to me can't compare. As messed-up as my parents are, I can't think they would ever set me up to die or not care if I was hurt."

"Everyone has their own sorrow," Lector said. "Who's to say whose is really worse?" He shook his head. "I don't even know anymore. I used to think I had all the answers, but ever since we started trying to turn our lives around I've realized more and more that I don't."

"You've become more humble than you were, perhaps," Gansley said. "Maybe we all have."

"Even you, Nesbitt," Johnson said.

"Well, in any case, this trip isn't about me," Nesbitt said uncomfortably. "We came here for Lector."

"And I am so grateful," Lector said. "I would hate to be here alone when it's no longer happy like it was. But now I'm ready to leave."

"Did you really stay all that you wanted?" Nesbitt asked. "You came out because you heard what I was saying."

"I looked over the rooms . . . remembered them a bit . . . but yes, I would rather go," Lector said. He didn't say more, but he really felt too sad to keep staying. He wanted to hurry on along and get to Evangeline.

"I think we've got everything," Crump said. He and Johnson had started to lifted the last items out of the closet.

Lector smiled a bit. "Alright then."

The group headed for the door and stepped out into the New Orleans evening. Lector cast one final look inside the little home before shutting the door for good.

"What do they want to use it for now?" Nesbitt wondered.

"I never thought to ask," Lector realized. "Maybe Marie wants to use it as I did."

"I hope she'll enjoy it like you did," Crump said.

Lector didn't respond, but he really hoped so too.

"You could build something like this on your property," Johnson said.

"I have an entire mansion to myself now," Lector mused. "I'd have no need of it."

"That's true," Johnson conceded.

"And perhaps it would bring back too many bittersweet memories to build another one," Gansley said.

Lector nodded. That was pretty much how he felt. "I'll just leave it in the past," he said. "Right now, I want to focus on the present."

No one objected to that.

Mrs. Leichter met them as they reached the front walkway. "Did you find anything, Démas?" she asked.

"I didn't want much, Mother, but Crump decided to take a lot of it just in case I change my mind someday," Lector said.

"It's stuff you should want," Crump said to her. "Pictures and things he made when he was a kid!"

"Oh. . . ." The woman's eyes flickered, and there was a certain regret and longing within them, but then she looked away. "You go ahead and take them then. I haven't been much of a mother to him for quite some time. You've been a more loyal family than most of us have been."

Crump frowned, peering at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, her voice taut. "I could have got them out many times before and I didn't."

Lector sighed. "Alright then. Goodbye, Mother."

"Goodbye, Démas." She still wouldn't face him.

Gansley was deep in thought as they reached the rental car. Finally he looked to Crump. "Would you mind . . . ?" He took several of the pictures out of the top box and looked towards Mrs. Leichter.

Crump blinked and shrugged. "If you really think she'll take them and not toss them. . . ."

"I don't think she'll throw them out." Gansley walked back to the porch and held them out. "Why don't you look at these for a while?" he said gruffly. "If you have any parental instincts left, these might bring them out."

Slowly she turned back. ". . . Thank you," she said, her voice cracking as she accepted them and started to look through them.

Lector especially was stunned. He looked to Gansley with disbelieving eyes when he walked back to them. "She wants them?"

"I'm hoping looking at them will make her want you," Gansley said. "There's still some caring there; that's obvious."

Lector slowly nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For trying like this."

"You deserve to have your family back," Gansley said, "although they're not deserving of you." He drew an arm around Lector's shoulders as they all got in the car to drive away.

xxxx

Amélie Leichter slowly walked back into the house, trying to ignore the lump in her throat. She had wanted to see Démas, but then when she did, as usual she didn't even know what to say. It felt like the gulf between them was insurmountable. Of course, that wasn't her son's fault. He longed with all his heart for a reconciliation, but it never happened.

Why did she allow things to be this way? Evangeline had asked, and Démas had asked too—with his eyes if not with his voice—but she never had any real answers. The mess was too large; there was no way to fix all that her husband had set in motion.

She gazed back at the drawings Gansley had given her. Her boy had been so young when he had made these. . . . So young and innocent, not driven by anger and rage and a desire for vengeance.

Although . . .

Hadn't she taught him that part of their lot was to punish those deserving? Not all practitioners of vodun believed that, but she had. He hadn't ever shown interest in participating in that part of their heritage, but he had definitely carried a vengeful, justice-driven streak to his personality. His main reason for going after Seto Kaiba had been to make him understand the wrongs he had committed. That actually wasn't wrong, as far as she was concerned. But his methods had ended up leaving a lot to be desired.

"Did I drive him to that?" she whispered. "Was it really my fault that Gerard turned against him and betrayed him to Dr. Raven?"

She sank into the couch, trembling now as she continued to hold the drawings. She had never thought of this before, but why hadn't she? Had she just been blind?

Her husband Gerard was in prison for what he had done to their son. And the children . . . their feelings were so confused and mixed. Aside from Evangeline, they wanted to be loyal to their father, even if they didn't like what he had done to Démas. She had no doubt furthered those feelings by her own bewilderment and indecision. She had always objected to Gerard's plans, yet she had not seriously tried to stop him. Had she felt she couldn't? Shouldn't? Or had she really hoped that in the end he would know he couldn't go through with it?

She set the drawings on the coffee table in front of her. "What's wrong with me?!" she wailed. "How could I have let him do that to our son? And how could I have continued to treat Démas so horribly afterwards?!"

She had been so confused she hadn't known how to behave or react. Her life had been falling apart around her and she had done what she had thought would save it. But now . . . now that it was too late, it was as if she was waking up to a full realization of her actions. She had chosen her husband over her son. There was no other way to put it. And now she had lost not only Démas, but Evangeline too. Démas might forgive her, somehow, incredibly, but she doubted Evangeline would. The girl had idolized her father and adored her mother, and they had both let her down when they had abandoned Démas. Now she was reacting with anger and hatred while Démas was shattered and crushed. Amélie's attempt to salvage her family had only splintered it even more.

"I should have denounced Gerard and rallied all the children to Démas's aid," she knew now. "But it's too late . . . too late. . . ."

It felt like the darkness of her realization was creeping over her, covering every part of her and blocking out the light. Then, as the light faded completely, there was a voice in her head—not her own, but someone else's.

"It's hard to accept what you've done, isn't it?"

She froze. "Who's there?!"

"What if I could give you the power to reunite your family? Would you do a simple task for me in turn?"

"Of course," she said. "I'll do anything!"

"I was sure I could count on you, Amélie Leichter."

The voice faded, but it had left her with an incredible sensation of power and control. Now she knew she could fix all her wrongs.

She ran a hand over the crayon picture. "My sweet boy. . . . Everything will be alright," she whispered. "Everything. . . ."

xxxx

Evangeline beamed as she flung open the doors of her plantation home and ran into her older brother's arms. "Démas! Oh Démas . . . it's so good to see you again!" She hugged him close.

Lector smiled. Here was the one family member who would never turn against him. "Hello, Evangeline. How have you been?"

"Alright." She looked up at him. "The ghosts in the hotel really have settled down thanks to the advice we were given. It's amazing! And such a relief. I wondered if I really would have to shut it down!"

"What about the ghosts here?" Crump exclaimed.

She sighed. "Well, the North wing is still off-limits. And the restless ghost still walks up and down the halls many nights. But now that that horrible Gozaburo character is gone, there isn't any feeling of evil. It just feels . . . creepy."

". . . I guess that's an improvement," Crump said.

"Well, come on in!" Evangeline linked arms with Lector and started towards the porch. "Everybody else is waiting inside. I'm so glad you all came out for a visit! It sounds like things have been horrible in Domino City lately!"

"Things are almost always horrible," Nesbitt grunted. "We rarely ever get a break." He doubted they would here, either. Lector had already been crushed again by his mother's wishy-washy attitude.

Evangeline sighed. "I know. . . ." She bit her lip. "What was it you needed to see about before you came here, Démas?"

Lector hesitated. He hadn't wanted to tell her, knowing she would become understandably incensed. ". . . I was collecting my belongings out of the little house on the family property," he said at last. That was true; he just wasn't saying why he had done it.

"Oh. Mother said how much you loved it there." Evangeline smiled sadly. "Sometimes I went in there just to feel close to you. I could understand why you loved it."

"Yes. . . ." Lector tried to shake himself out of his sorrow. He didn't want to show it to her. "Is Angelique back from the restaurant yet?"

"She will be soon," Evangeline said. "She's bringing dinner. How long can all of you stay?"

"Not long," Gansley said. "Now that Penguin World is open, we need to be on hand much of the time."

"Oh, that's true," Evangeline mused.

"And the kids have school," Crump added.

"We'll probably just be here for the weekend," Lector said.

"Well, we'll make it a good weekend," Evangeline promised.

They went inside. Mokuba looked up, happy to see Lector back but concerned for him, knowing how much the task had likely hurt him. "Hi, Lector," he greeted.

Lector smiled. "Hello, Mokuba."

"So what's the deal?" Joey asked. "How'd it go?"

"It went about as well as I could have expected," Lector said with a vague nod towards the boxes they were bringing with them.

Evangeline caught sight of a drawing in the box Crump was holding. "You drew this, Démas?" She reached in and pulled it out.

"That's right." Lector smiled a bit. "All the drawings in there are mine."

Yugi stared at it in stunned surprise. "But . . . you were a kid when you drew that, weren't you?!"

"Yes. . . ." Lector quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well . . ." Yugi got up and pointed at a strange, dark creature hovering in the top half of the picture. "That looks a lot like a Berserk Dragon!"