Disclaimer and Warnings: I write "read at your own risk" fiction. Do not read on if you are triggered by blood, traumatic injury, physical, psychological, or sexual abuse, and/or profanity among other things. Most material considered sensitive can be found. None of my stories reflect my actual world views and habits or those I condone for others.

He hummed absently as he worked.

Pinch with one hand, push with the other.

"You know," he mused, holding the needle so it gleamed in the remaining light, "It won't be any fun if you do the work for me."

The slack body heaved on the table, supine, hands, abdomen, and ankles secured with rope. Sedative trumped adrenaline. Violent tremors faded into shuddering breaths.

"Shh..." He pushed a mop of sweat-soaked hair from the delicate forehead, moving the candle closer to the gash along his collar. "The less you struggle, the less it'll hurt." He held the skin together as well as he could with one hand, using the other to stitch. "Don't tense now."

What would've taken a trained professional a matter of seconds spanned twenty minutes. The cut was jagged and irregular from the struggle. How he'd managed to shatter the window, Pegasus still wasn't sure, but it mattered little. He was relieved the glass hadn't been embedded a few inches higher.

Satisfied with the work, he wet a nearby rag with alcohol and moved to clean the wound a final time.

A moan of protest almost stopped him.

For the kind of fight he put up, it'd taken longer than expected for him to start chewing through the gag.

Pegasus took a fistful of hair in his free hand to stop the boy from avoiding his eyes. "Don't scream," he whispered darkly, and pressed down.

Seto couldn't move his head to avoid Pegasus's gaze or the alcohol's burn. Unable to grit his teeth, another moan slipped out as his shoulders rolled back against the table—the only defense he could manage. The sting hurt less than the first time with the gash raw and open, but the pained groan couldn't be restrained.

A gentle shushing from above, and the hand in his hair slackened in its grip. If Pegasus wanted him to be quiet, he should have picked a more effective gag. Given a bit longer and maybe a touch less observation, Seto could get it loose enough to speak through.

Besides, his message had to be easy to understand through his forced gaze.

The flame from the candle flickered closer to Seto. A combination of the pain and the sedative he hadn't been able to fight off kept him from leaning away.

Pegasus finished quickly, and with no further use for the rag, dropped it to his feet. "Is your face permanently fixed in that glare? I can't tell if the drugs are kicking in or wearing off."

He loosened his hold on Seto's hair until his fingers laid lightly in it, then moved to stroke the tresses that fell over his forehead. He made one such motion before the head turned away.

Kicking in, he decided, but not enough to put him out.

"It's such a shame this didn't go as planned. I could've at least moved you to a holding cell." He chuckled, gesturing to the dungeon just beyond the door, "But," the lilt in his voice rose an octave, "It wouldn't be an authentic meeting if I wasn't on my toes." He moved from his seat, standing a bit taller than usual in the mocking pose.

He made a show of cracking his neck before bending just far enough to keep himself at eye level with the table, retrieving a bag from the floor. "No one can hear you all the way down here." He didn't mind talking to the back of the boy's head for the time being. "No one but me, of course."

He fumbled for a moment with the video camera, adjusting the audio before pressing play. The red light to signal its recording mingled with the glow of the candle. "Look here, Seto. I'll get that gag out of our way."

Pegasus grabbed Seto's jaw to force his head back, fingers working their way around the damp material of the gag before pulling it away. His jaw stayed slack while he readjusted to the allowed movement. Flexing a few times, he dared a glance back toward Pegasus, only to find a dim red light staring at him.

"What're you doing?"

His mouth and throat were dry after having the gag in for so long. The words spilled out heavy and thick, but were met with another hum and the muted drip of water.

Seto lifted his head as much as his restraints would allow, squinting through the darkness at the stone walls. Maybe no one could hear him. It didn't mean he could scream, not with the camera watching him.

His head was too heavy to hold up for long. He dropped back down and tilted back his head, trying to shake his hair out of his eyes. The dry crust of salt had built up around the corners of his eyes, from the sweat and the fight.

Pegasus adjusted the video camera, moving it a little closer before settling on a position. His polite smile waited on Seto.

Although he just regained his ability to speak, Seto tightened his jaw and refused to put on a show. His frustration vented itself in the slight tug at the rope around a wrist, but nothing more. Pegasus would have to struggle as much as Seto to get whatever he wanted.

"You're always so stressed Kaiba-boy." A softened hand brushed the matted hair from around the brunet's ear. He didn't seem coherent enough to bite, but he hadn't seemed strong enough to break a car window either. "Relax. Take a load off!"

He set his elbows on the table, narrowly avoiding a smear of his captive's blood, and laced his fingers under his chin. "Mm, tough crowd this morning, aren't we? I suppose it was foolish to expect anything else, but you're not usually quiet when you're grumpy."

The room was silent save the whisper of a word creeping up from Seto's throat. A desired effect of the understatement, even if it never passed the boy's lips.

"You won't understand it now, but trust me when I say—" His gaze darkened as the camera automatically refocused itself. As long as it was on, it would track any semblance of movement from Seto. "Well, of course you don't trust me, but do believe me Seto, when I say this is all for the best. There are more than a few people who need you, or rather KC, to...lay low."

He unfolded his hands and gave the boy's shoulder a little shake to ensure he wouldn't fall asleep on him before the session was over. "Don't." He growled when blue pierced his tranquil gaze. "Don't you look at me like that." He looked down for a brief moment before the easy smile found its way to his face. A single swing of his foot, the distinct clatter of metal against stone, and Seto was alert again.

He leaned a little closer, face hallowed by the light of the candle. "It could've been Mokuba."

At the mention of Mokuba's name, Seto jerked at the ropes again, finding the one on his right hand a bit looser than the left. With Pegasus's gaze so intent, Seto stopped tugging at it.

"You're lying."

Pegasus's chuckle shook the table. The movement jolted Seto's head, a little reminder of the cut on his neck, but Seto shifted his shoulder down and kept his focus on Pegasus.

"You couldn't have taken Mokuba and kept me and KaibaCorp down. Don't drag him into this."

Breathing tightened the ropes around his waist, preventing Seto from taking the full, deep breaths he needed to keep his calm. And being unable to breathe, Seto's heart picked up, fighting against the sedative that hadn't been as strong as he feared when he first saw the needle. The mix of the sedative and adrenaline only slowed his screaming thoughts.

Before Pegasus had the chance to make another threat, Seto decided to change the subject, to get it away from Mokuba. Whatever this was, Mokuba didn't need to be involved.

"And you're in charge of forcing me to 'lay low?'"

"Really Kaiba, I'm surprised." Pegasus's words were barely a whisper.

His eyes followed Seto's movements, from the strain in his chest as he pulled for breath, to the focus in his eyes as he let it out slow...ly through his nose. "You forget our history. Everyone knew you'd fight, but who else would've been prepared for it?"

He took a moment to change the settings on the camera to avoid it auto-focusing on Seto's torso, then stretched his legs out as far as he could manage while straightening his back against the chair again. Seto couldn't stay bound to the table all day, but another shot of sedative was out of the question until his system had worked through more of what he'd already been given.

He didn't want to bring suits into this sooner than he absolutely had to, but he would if it came to that. Something about the clumsiness of hired muscle just burrowed under his skin. The clunk of their shoes, heaviness of their footfall, scrambling of their movements—so quick, so frantic even when practiced—not nearly graceful enough to savor the reactions of the human body against their own.

That was it.

Holding people was an art.

They lacked finesse.

"Anyway, let's take one thing at a time. Get comfortable." He smirked despite himself. "You're the one always going on about real plans taking patience."

New sweat was forming at Seto's hairline, and though he didn't show it, Pegasus was beginning to worry.

"Settle down," he chided lightly, "We're done with the pain unless you manage to injure yourself again."

The table shook with the tensing of Seto's hands and Pegasus instinctively reached out to trace the fingers of the one closest to him with his own. "If your panic becomes a danger, I'll have to call someone down to remedy it." The tighter the fists clenched in response to his touch, the more gentle it became. "Understand?"

Seto couldn't get enough air into his lungs to manage a scoff, and his body tried to take bigger breaths than he was capable. The result came out in rough breaths that struck against his teeth, too much like panting. He gave himself a moment, really no more than a second or two, to get it settled.

There had been a question, but he took it for rhetorical. Of course he didn't understand, not fully. And he certainly wouldn't admit to panic. Even the minor detail of no upcoming pain did nothing to quell the trepidation.

Pegasus's fingers continued stroking Seto's hand, his left one, the one too tightly bound to pull away. They brushed up against his hip; whether accidental or not, Seto couldn't tell.

"Stop touching me."

His emphasis sounded more of air than anger, and the gentle tracings moved up to his wrist, gliding over the skin where it met the rope. He should have worn the trenchcoat that day, because at least then he would have the bracers to protect him from the touch.

He had been wearing a watch. His tie had been taken soon after the cut on his neck. Seto wished he had thought to rip out the glass to use in his defense rather than leave in the thick shard to staunch the bleeding.

"Wouldn't have pegged you as the hired help."

"Well, that's petty even for you. We both know I only do what I see fit, as I see fit." He stopped stroking and stood to full height, "I can see we'll have to do something about these nerves, but this table is very much in the way. Note to self: buy narrow tables—body shelves—? Oh, semantics."

Seto's eyes closed reflextively against the assault of his own, and Pegasus knew then, as if he hadn't before, that the drugs were doing most of the talking. This really wasn't how he expected the day to go. Kaiba was too stubborn to sleep off the bulk of the drugs and likely had a heavier dose coming that would eliminate his every choice in the matter.

The tremors of his body shook the table, its legs vibrating sporadically as he tried to force his body to obey his mind. Pegasus made a few tender hushing noises as he tried to settle on a course of action. It might not be necessary to sedate Seto further with the help of two or three armed men.

If he could scarcely control his breathing, how much fight could he have left?

"You've had enough for now," he decided, "Give me a minute to make some arrangements and I'll let you rest." He moved to his original seat long enough to turn off the camera and pull a flashlight from the bag on the floor, then resumed standing by Seto's head. "Before I go, I need you to calm down a little. I don't want you working yourself into a coughing fit and choking on me." He pressed a hand to the boy's forehead. Too warm. "Tame your breaths as well as you can. Count if you have to. In-hale, Ex-hale." He tapped a finger lightly on the forehead to punctuate each syllable, sending a fresh wave of dizziness through Seto's body.

"Look at me," he said at last, "I'm coming right back for you. Okay? I'll come back."

With that, he bent to blow out the candle, and, facing the flashlight away from Seto, let it guide him to the main level of the castle.

Once the footsteps faded, Seto started on the loose rope around his wrist. The drugs seemed to clump in his veins, but he didn't need his strength so much as he needed to ease the rope out of whatever knot it had been tied in.

Pegasus wouldn't be gone long, and without the light, even the dim cast the candle had provided, Seto couldn't see how he would get all of the ropes undone. But having an arm free would be better than staying tied down.

He rocked his wrist forward and back, searching for any give in the knot. His fingers reached around to feel for it, but it must have been tied at the back of his wrist. So Seto bent his hand in toward himself, hopefully pressing against the knot he couldn't see.

If Pegasus hadn't blown out that candle, he could have burned his way out of this.

Pegasus had promised 'a minute' and being 'right back.' The timeline was too short, but whatever arrangements needed to be made couldn't have been on the dungeon level. Seto remembered how extensive they were, so maybe he had more time than he thought. It was just four knots.

The rope slacked as much as Seto expected it would. He pulled his arm up with all the force he had left, clenching his teeth to fight off the dry scratching of the rope as it took his skin with it. His thumb got the worst of the burn, but once it scraped through, the rest of his hand followed easily.

He went for the rope around his waist, closing his eyes to better focus his effort on finding the knot. His fingers trailed from one end of the table to the other. Nothing.

He bit back his curse, unwilling to make any sound, and went for his other hand. The knot there was in the same place, but before starting on it, Seto gave the rope a small tug. He felt the resistance immediately and took that to mean it was tied off to one of the legs in the center of the table.

The knot was more of a challenge than he expected. One of the ropes from around his waist looped through it, likely what kept him from moving his hand to either side. It took at least a minute for Seto to figure that out, so a minute wasted.

But eventually, his left hand came free with the knot.

He paused only long enough to make sure the phantom footsteps he heard were imagined before feeling down the sides of the table for the knot holding his body down. The two ends might have met underneath. Instead, Seto grabbed the rope with both hands and pulled to get a feel for how much slack there was. It had been tied tightly enough to affect his breathing, but now that his hands weren't attached to it, he had maybe an inch of space.

He could work with it.

He bent his knees as best as he could with his ankles tied down and began to slide underneath the rope. It caught on his shirt and Seto had to keep moving buttons out of the way, but slowly, he gained ground.

At the opposite end of the dungeon an identical room was being prepared, save the table which was swapped for a bed, and the functional lightbulb hanging fixtureless from the ceiling. Pegasus was no longer in the frame of mind to imagine what the room had been intended and might still come to be used for. He'd expected to rile Kaiba up a little before having him moved, not send him into a panic attack.

He waved a hand to hurry the three men down the corridor ahead of him, the dim light of electric wall torches casting their shadows much further than they'd walked. Croquet left Seto's bucket near the threshold of the door before removing its inside handle.

"Let's go," Pegasus sang out, wringing his hands. It would've been foolish to leave the boy completely unguarded—several armed men barricaded the doors to the main floors of the castle—but it'd been too long for comfort. His confident strides nearly pulsed. The graying head of security opened his mouth to tell him to relax, sending him a sideways glance through his shades, but decided against it.

Instead, he merely quickened his own pace to keep ahead of Pegasus. He'd made a promise long ago to be a shield if he needed to, and given the master's strange taste in company, figured he was past due to make good on it.

Seto worked the rope over his shoes, trying not to hold his breath as he freed his ankles. The silence was relentless and unforgiving; he couldn't afford to breathe any heavier. The room spun even as he sat still, straining hard to make out any traces of movement through the drum of his heartbeat.

He tried to recall the layout of Pegasus's dungeon, but the memories blurred at the edges. Each scene produced identical passageways to Mokuba's terrified eyes. No distinction, no direction. Bangs fell into his face as he shook his head to clear it. There was no time left to fight against the drugs. The best he could do was acknowledge he was walking blind.

Even free of the restraints his chest was tight. He choked for every breath, allowing himself just one through the mouth as he swung both legs over the table and eased himself onto the floor.

He felt it before he could stop it.

The entire slab of wood shifted with the weight of his body, bringing the table up on two legs in an awkward slant. He pressed his back against it, but the stiffness in his legs and residual numbness from the drugs made his knees weak. He fell to the floor, and despite his bracing against the table to muffle the impact of being flipped on its side, it connected with the floor in a heavy 'thud' that may as well have been a gunshot.