Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Stronger Than Before ❯ Chapter5 ( Chapter 5 )

Stronger Than Before

by Dragondreamer and Yami Dragon

Disclaimer: We don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If we did, Otogi wouldn't be wearing that fruity little headband.

Warning: This story contains shouenen-ai (guy/guy relationships) and yaoi (guys having sex with guys). It also contains coarse language and violence. If you don't like it, or become offended by such things, too fricking bad! Go already!

Note: /…/ Tristan's thoughts

[…] Joey's thoughts

{…} Seto's thoughts

[[…]]Yami's thoughts and mind link to Yugi

//…// Yugi's thoughts and mind link to Yami

yak yak (Artificial Intelligence) Sadie's voice

~*~*~*~*~

YD: This chapter was SOO much fun to write!

DD: Yeah…love angst!

Tristan: Those grins are telling me this isn't going to be good for us Joey.

Joey: *rolls eyes* It's NEVER good for us.

YD: *evil chuckle*

~*~*~*~*~

He growled in frustration as his cell phone continued to ring. He thought about not answering, but decided he'd better as the people that called him didn't take kindly to waiting.

Answering the phone, he tucked it between his chin and his shoulder as he unsheathed a Smokey Mountain Toothpick from his hip.

"What?" He growled as he crouched down next to the fallen brunet, cupping his chin and pulling his head back.

"There's been a change of plans."

"What change of plans?" He pressed the tip of the knife below Tristan's ear, drawing blood.

"She doesn't want him dead."

"I've got him unconscious at my feet with a blade to his throat! I can finish the job now!"

"Don't kill him! There's too big a risk it could be traced back to her."

"Fine." He twisted the knife a little as he withdrew it, watching with some satisfaction as a thin trail of blood ran down the unconscious man's neck, staining the collar of his shirt.

"Meet me tonight and I'll let you know what you're to do next."

"I'd better be fully compensated for this change of events Becket."

"You will."

~*~*~*~*~

Joey stood in stony silence watching as his father's casket was lowered into the ground. He took some comfort in the fact he was surrounded by all the people who loved him the most. Or almost all.

Seto cut a glance past Yami and Mokuba to where Joey was standing with Ryou and Yugi on either side of him. Bakura was standing behind Ryou with his hand on his hikari's shoulder.

{Where the hell is Tristan?}

Yugi took Joey's hand in his, trying to offer some comfort. //Yami, I'm worried. Why didn't Tristan show up?//

[[I don't know Aibou. I know Seto is worried. He should have been here long ago.]]

//I hope he's okay.//

Joey turned away from the grave site, keeping a tight grip on Yugi's hand as he headed towards the waiting limo, the others trailing behind.

Yami slipped an arm around Seto's waist, looking up at him with worried eyes. "Where's Tristan?"

"I don't know. I'm worried. I tried calling his cell phone earlier, but he didn't answer."

"That's not like him."

Seto shook his head. "He's not in his office either. Teddy said he went to meet someone."

They hung back a moment, watching as Bakura and Ryou climbed into the limo. Seto was just considering calling security to find Tristan when he saw a familiar black Audi pull up.

The driver's door opened and Tristan staggered out. His eyes met Joey's and he winced when the blond just looked at him coldly before turning and getting into the car with Ryou and Bakura.

Tristan took a step forward, losing his balance and falling to his knees. Seto and Yami were instantly there and Yugi came running. They helped him to his feet and Seto set him back against the car, keeping his hands on his shoulders.

"Tristan!" Yami said. "You're hurt!"

"Go with Joey." Seto turned to Yugi. "Take him home and stay with him. We'll take care of Tristan."

Yugi ran off and Seto looked closely at his friend. "What happened? You're bleeding."

"I don't know…"

"Yami, there's a first aid kit under the driver's seat."

Yami was silent as he retrieved the required item, setting it on the hood of the car. He opened it, took out what he needed and proceeded to clean the blood from Tristan's neck. "It's not bad. It's already stopped bleeding."

"Thanks Yami." Tristan clutched at Seto as a wave of dizziness overcame him.

"Who did this to you Tris?" Seto's eyes were pure ice. "Tell me."

"I can't. I never saw his face. He jumped me from behind. When I came to, he was gone." Tristan pulled away from Seto, steadying himself against the still open car door. "I've got to get to Joey."

"Easy buddy." Seto put an arm around Tristan's waist, guiding him to the passenger side of the car. "I'll drive."

~*~*~*~*~

The dizziness seemed to be receding by the time they got to the house and Tristan exited the car under his own power.

Gaining the living room, he could feel the glacial tension radiating from his blond lover.

"Joey." Tristan sat down on the couch next to him, reaching for his hand. "I'm sorry…"

Joey pulled away from him and stood, leaving the room. Tristan tried to get up to follow him, but couldn't as the dizziness assaulted him again. The look in Joey's eyes was enough to stop any of the others from going to him.

"Tristan, what happened?" Ryou asked.

"I'm not sure." Tristan sighed as Seto sat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "I got a note saying I should meet someone behind the building if I wanted to put a stop to the stories. I was jumped. When I came to, Teddy was standing over me. I don't really remember anything else."

"Any idea who did it?" Bakura had a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"None."

"Do you want us to stay?" Seto asked him, unconsciously picking at the bloodstain on Tristan's shirt collar.

"No, thanks guys, but I need to talk to Joey alone."

Seto looked like he was about to argue when he caught Yami's eyes. Yami shook his head, his look plainly saying that Seto shouldn't push it.

"Okay." Seto held Tristan tightly for a moment before rising from the couch. "Call me if you need me Tris."

"I will."

Bakura came and stood over Tristan. "If you remember who is was I want you to tell me."

"Yeah, sure." /Not damn likely./

Yugi and Ryou came and hugged him, Yugi's big amethyst eyes filled with concern.

"It'll be okay Yugi. I'll call you."

Yami stood in the doorway after everyone had left, biting his lip.

"Yami, I know what you're going to say. We'll be fine. Please, just go home."

Yami nodded, and without another word, left Tristan alone.

Tristan got slowly to his feet, swaying a little, and headed upstairs for what he knew was going to be a major confrontation.

~*~*~*~*~

Joey pulled his tee shirt on over his head and sat on the end of the bed, staring at the ring on his hand. He twisted it around his finger, tears coming to his eyes.

[I buried my father today. And he wasn't there for me. Why? I needed him. He's always been there…even when we were just friends. He's always had my back. Always. I've always been there for him. When his parents kicked him out, I was actually happy. Because it meant we'd be together all the time. But now I hardly ever see him. I don't know if I can live like this anymore.]

He stood up and headed back to the closet, grabbing his jean jacket and putting it on. Hearing the door open, he spun around.

"Joey…" Tristan came to him and tried to put his arms around him.

Joey pulled away, glaring. "What happened to you today?! You were supposed to be there! You promised me!"

"I couldn't help it Joey." Tristan fought off another wave of dizziness as he tried to explain to the blond what had happened.

"It doesn't matter." Joey whispered, turning away. "You put your job over me again."

"Joey! I was doing it for you! I'm trying to stop this woman from hurting any of us further!"

Joey just shook his head and headed for the bedroom door. "I need to go out. Don't follow me."

"Joey...please…"

The door shut silently. Tristan took a step forward, intending to go after Joey, no matter what he said, when his head began to spin.

/Damn. I can't go after him like this./

His vision began to recede as he lay on the bed, trying to fight off the encroaching darkness…and losing.

~*~*~*~*~

Joey was just getting into his car when the neighbor's kid ran up to him.

"Hey Joey!"

"Hey Tommy. What's up?"

The brown eyed boy held out a large envelope. "This got delivered to our house by mistake."

"Thanks kiddo."

"Ummm…I'm sorry about your dad Joey."

"Thanks." Joey ruffled his hair. "Go on now. I've gotta go out."

"Later!" Tommy jumped the low row of hedges separating their houses, waving goodbye.

Joey slid behind the wheel of the old Mustang, closing the door before running his hand over the dashboard. He loved this car. He and Tristan had bought it three years ago. It had been a total heap and they had restored it together. He couldn't remember the last time they'd even had the hood up.

Sighing, Joey looked at the envelope in his hand. Tearing it open, he removed the single sheet of newsprint. Unfolding it, he saw it was yet another tabloid article. Seeing the pictures of him and Mai, he sat there, reading the entire article, feeling his blood pressure rise with every sentence.

"Fuck!" He crumpled the paper up and threw it into the back seat.

He'd had enough.

Starting the car, he jammed the gears into drive and peeled out of the driveway.

~*~*~*~*~

He drove aimlessly until he realized it was dark out. He didn't know where he was going; he only knew he didn't want to see anyone he knew.

He found himself in front of a run down looking bar whose parking lot was crammed with motorcycles and muscle cars. A flickering neon sign announced it's name as The Graveyard.

[Not my usual kind of place, but I really don't care. And I seriously doubt anyone I know would come to a place like this.]

Joey got out of the car, turning on the alarm before heading into the building.

The interior was smoky and dim, which suited his mood. He stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust before heading for the bar which was adjacent to the door.

Sliding onto a stool, he waited for the bartender to finish serving another customer before waving the man over.

"What can I get you?"

"Whatever's on tap."

Joey accepted the beer from the man, pulling out a pack of cigarettes that he didn't remember stopping for. He searched his pockets for a light, and not finding one, was about to hail the bartender again when someone handed him a book of matches.

"Thanks." Joey mumbled.

"Anything for a fellow duelist."

Joey turned, shocked to see Bandit Keith sitting beside him. "What do you want?" He snarled.

Keith drew back from the angry blonde. "Nothing. I just saw you come in and thought I'd say hi."

Joey sighed. "Sorry man. You didn't deserve that."

"You okay Joey? You don't look your normal, happy self." Keith grinned at him.

"I dunno…" Joey lit his cigarette, holding it up and staring at the smoldering tip. "I buried my old man today."

"I'm sorry." Keith said contritely, putting a hand on Joey's shoulder. "Need to talk about it?"

Joey looked questioningly at the other blond, wondering why he even cared. Maybe Tristan was right…it was years ago.

"Joey?" Keith looked him in the eye. "There's…something I've been wanting to tell you...for a long time."

"What's that?"

"About Duelist Kingdom…I didn't know about your sister. I was too blinded by my need for revenge to care too much about anyone else." Keith tugged at the knot of his ever-present bandana. "I'm…I'm sorry Joey."

Joey felt the lingering anger he had always carried toward the other drain away at his words. "Forget about it Keith. It's all in the past."

The older blond's smile was distinctively relieved. "Thanks man. That means a lot. How is your sister anyway?"

They fell into easy conversation, Joey doing most of the talking. He told Keith about what the whole gang had been up to in the last five years. He told him about Yami and Yugi marrying Seto, about school and Tristan's job, about the trouble they were having with the tabloids.

Somewhere between his sixth and seventh beer, Joey began talking about the problems he and Tristan were having. Keith was sympathetic, voicing his understanding of Joey's position.

"I doan thin `e luvs me anymore." Joey slurred drunkenly. "Luvs `is fuckin' job more."

"Just my opinion Joe, but I think you deserve better."

Joey shrugged and swayed slightly, causing Keith to throw an arm around him to keep him from falling off his stool.

"I think you've had enough to drink. Let me call you a cab to take you home. You're in no shape to drive."

"Doan wanna go home. Doan wanna see Tris." Joey mumbled. "Asshole. Should jus leave `im."

Keith helped Joey to his feet, shaking his head. "You can bunk at my place tonight."

"Thanks Keith." Joey leaned against him, allowing the other man to lead him from the bar. "Yer a pal."

~*~*~*~*~

Joey passed out cold as soon as he got into Keith's jeep.

Keith smiled, buckling him in, thinking to himself that the smaller blond was going to have one hell of a headache come morning. He, himself, was stone cold sober, only drinking two beers to Joey's nine.

When he arrived at his apartment building twenty minutes later, Joey was still out, snoring lightly. He reached over and shook the other man.

"Huh?" Joey's eyes shot open. "Was goin' on?"

"We're here." Keith unsnapped Joey's seatbelt. "My place."

"Oh. Yeah, right."

Keith jumped from the jeep, coming around to the passenger side and helping Joey out, wrapping an arm around his waist and grabbing his arm with his other hand as Joey staggered.

"Whoa." Joey giggled. "Think I drank too much."

"No kidding." Keith rolled his eyes, leading Joey into the building and heading for the elevator.

Joey giggled again, clinging to Keith for balance until the elevator doors opened again at Keith's floor. Keith guided Joey down the hall, untangling himself so he could unlock his apartment door.

He led the smaller blond inside and sat him down on the couch, flipping on a light, before going back to lock up. He came back into the living room, dropping down on the couch next to Joey.

"I've only got one bedroom. You'll have to sleep here."

"S'ok man." Joey punched him in the arm. "Nice place."

"Thanks." Keith said absently. "Joey? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Were you serious about leaving Tristan, or was that the booze talking?"

Joey scowled. "Why shouldn't I? Wouldn't even notice I'm gone. One less thing for `im to worry about."

Something flashed in Keith's blue eyes and he reached out, slipping a hand into Joey hair and pulling him forward until their lips met.

Joey squeaked and pulled away. "What the fuck 're ya doin'?"

"I want you Joey." Keith brought his other hand up and caressed Joey's cheek. "I have for a very long time. That night on the island when I broke into your room and stole your entry card…it took all my strength to leave."

Joey stared at him in shock, the words penetrating his alcohol fogged mind. "You…you want me? But…I didn't know you were…"

"Joey." Keith interrupted. "He doesn't deserve you. I'd never neglect you like he does."

"Keith…I can't…" He gripped Keith's wrist, but didn't pull the other's hand away from his face.

"Why?" Keith whispered. "Do you want to go back to that? Back to waiting around for him to come home whenever's convenient for him and give you some attention?"

"It's not like that." Tears filled Joey's eyes as he denied what he saw as the truth.

"Isn't it?" Keith leaned in and brushed their lips together. "Stay with me Joey. Let me take care of you."

Joey struggled with himself. [Keith's right. He doesn't deserve me. He should have been there for me today, no matter what. But I love him. I love him…but I'm not so sure he really loves me anymore. It feels like I'm just a comfortable habit. Would he really care if I left? Or would he just be happy that he wouldn't have someone bitching at him about work?]

"Joey?"

"I…" The tears spilled over and Joey shivered as Keith kissed them away.

"Shhh, Joey. It's okay."

Joey wrapped his arms around the bigger man; the liquor, the stress of the last few weeks and the emotional roller coaster of his father's death robbing him of his senses. He pulled Keith closer and kissed him, giving up to the tenuous comfort the other offered.

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan woke up slowly. The first thing he noticed was how cold he was. The second was that he wasn't under the covers with Joey.

Everything came flooding back and he groaned. /Oh shit. Joey.../

He hauled himself off the bed, thankful that the dizziness seemed to be gone. He headed downstairs, convinced he'd find Joey asleep on the couch.

He wasn't.

Tristan searched the house, looking for any sign Joey had come home the night before. But there was no indication his lover had been there at all. And his car was gone.

/Oh gods! Joey, baby…where are you?/

Tristan ran upstairs and quickly changed out of his rumpled clothes, throwing on jeans and a tee shirt. He grabbed his car keys from the dresser and tore from the house, intent only on finding Joey.

~*~*~*~*~

Joey woke up to a pounding head and the sun full in his face. Sitting up slowly, he peered around the unfamiliar room.

[What? Where the hell am I?]

He suddenly realized that he was naked, in a strange bed; albeit alone; and that most of the night was a complete blur. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stopping with a gasp as pain shot up his spine.

[Oh fuck! What have I done?!]

Fighting off the urge to be sick, he looked around again, spying his clothes lying in a crumpled heap next to the bed. He dressed carefully, sighing as the pain began to recede. Seeing a clock next to the bed, he was shocked to discover it was already afternoon.

[I gotta get out of here. Get home. Tristan'll be worried.]

He made his way through the apartment, trying to find something that would tell him where he was, or at least, whose place this was. Not finding anything, he decided his next best course of action would be to get out and home as quick as he could.

He quickly found himself outside the building. Pausing to get his bearings, he headed towards the downtown area, remembering vaguely that he had left his car at the bar last night.

[I've gotta get home.] Joey quickened his pace. [Please Tris…please be home. We need to talk.]

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan had looked everywhere, and he'd been out for hours without so much as a peep about Joey. No one had seen him.

He sat at a red light, racking his brain; trying to think of where else Joey would go if he was upset. Then he groaned at his own stupidity.

/Master Kitotou's. I should have gone there first!/

He made a quick left and headed back downtown.

~*~*~*~*~

Joey pulled into the driveway, surprised to see Tristan's car was gone.

He let himself into the house, hanging up his keys and kicking off his boots before calling out to Tristan, on the off chance he was home. No answer.

He headed straight for the kitchen to look to see if Tristan had left him a note. He always left them on the kitchen table, just as Joey always left any to him on the piano. Again, nothing.

Joey felt a familiar anger pool in his gut. [He probably went in to the office. Probably didn't even notice I didn't come home last night. I'm getting a little sick of waiting around for him to come home whenever it's convenient for him.]

He stopped halfway up the stairs. Something about that sounded familiar, like something that someone else had said to him. He shrugged it off, continuing up the stairs, figuring he'd shower before calling Kaiba Corp. to see if Tristan was there.

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan pulled up in front of the apothecary shop, pausing to wipe the cold, clammy sweat from his face. He wasn't feeling well. His hands were shaking, his whole body ached and his chest felt tight.

He tried to shake it off as he entered the store, setting off the bell above the door.

"Master Kiotou?"

"Tristan!" The old man came from behind the counter. "How are you? I haven't seen you in…are you alright?"

Tristan nodded as the herbalist took him by the arm and led him to a stool in front of the counter. "Have you seen Joey?"

"No, I haven't." He pushed Tristan down, peering at him. "You don't look well."

"I'm okay." Tristan tried to put him off. "I'm trying to find Joey. He didn't come home last night."

"Joseph aside for a minute…you're not well, no matter what you say. Tell me what's wrong."

Tristan shivered with a sudden chill. "I think it has something to do with what happened yesterday." He went on to tell the old man what had happened in the alleyway behind the Kaiba Corp. building.

"I see." Master Kiotou took Tristan's hands in his examining his fingernails, noticing the slight bluish tinge to them. He reached up and cupped Tristan's face, his thumbs pressing lightly under his eyes. Tristan hissed as pain shot across his face. "Does your chest hurt?"

"Feels like there's a horse sitting on it."

"Hmmm…sounds to me like your body doesn't like whatever it was you were drugged with."

"Sensei," Tristan said, unconsciously falling into the term of address Joey used for the man. "I'm fine. I have to find him."

"Joseph survived his childhood quite well on his own." The old man said sternly. "I'm sure he's fine. You're not going to be any good to him if you don't take care of yourself."

Tristan sighed and began to protest when Master Kiotou gave him a look. "Now listen to me young man, I've been taking care of you for going on six years. Have I ever given you bad advice?"

Tristan suddenly found himself feeling like a scolded five year old. "No sensei."

"Hrmp." The small herbalist snorted, going back behind the counter. "That's better."

He filled a small glass with water and turned, taking several bottles down off the shelf behind him, putting a drop or two of each in the water before stirring it with a glass rod. He brought it over to Tristan, putting it on the counter in front of him.

"This should take care of it."

Tristan lifted the glass to his lips, grimacing at the bitter taste, but drinking it down under Master Kiotou's watchful eyes. He handed the empty glass back to the old man, fighting not to gag.

With a snicker, Master Kiotou took a small, handless cup down from another shelf, dropping some tea leaves and a pinch of powdered honey into it before filling it with boiling water.

"Let this steep for a few minutes. I'll be right back." He disappeared into the back room.

Tristan sighed, propping his elbow on the counter and putting his head in his hand, idly tracing the scars in the countertop with his finger.

/Where are you Joey? Gods I hope you're okay. If something's happened to you, I'll never forgive myself. Why didn't I just send security down to grab the guy and bring him to me? That's what Seto would've done. I'm so fucking stupid!/

Tristan picked up the tea cup, sipping the hot liquid. He wasn't aware of a pair of ancient eyes observing him, aware of his inner torment.

/I don't think he'll ever forgive me…and I'm not so sure I'd deserve it if he did. I've been feeling this coming for months. Maybe this is it. Maybe he's going to leave me. Gods…Joey…I love you. Please, no matter what else happens, just be okay./

"Are you finished Tristan?"

"Yes, thank you." Tristan set the empty cup down on the counter.

"Feeling better?"

Tristan paused for a minute, realizing he was. "Much better."

"Good. Go home. I'm sure you'll find Joey there. If not, call your friends."

"Thank you sensei."

Master Kiotou watched as the tall brunet strode out the door. As he picked up the empty tea cup, something caught his eye. Grabbing a magnifying glass, he peered at the soggy leaves in the bottom of the cup.

His eyes widened at what he saw.

A knife…a gun…a closed fist…and what looked like a syringe.

He sighed, putting down the cup. This wasn't surprising, considering the recurring dream he had been having about his young friends over the last few weeks.

In the dream he saw Joey and Tristan, clinging to each other, being swept down a raging river. Cross currents tore them apart and Joey sank beneath the foaming waters while Tristan was pulled to safety by Seto Kaiba. Standing behind Seto, Yugi cried bitter tears in Yami's arms. The symbolism was obvious to anyone who knew the nature of dreams.

For the first time, the herbalist felt his many years. His dreams were never wrong.

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan was sure he'd never felt such relief as when he saw the Mustang parked in the driveway.

He ran into the house, calling for Joey. Reaching the living room, he paused, seeing Joey come running down the stairs, shirtless, his hair dripping wet. Joey threw himself into Tristan's arms, clinging.

"Joey…I was so worried."

"Gods Tris! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay baby." Tristan ran his hands over Joey's bare back.

Something didn't feel right. Joey's back was covered with welts. Tristan pulled back, his eyes going to Joey's chest. It, too, was covered with welts, and on his right shoulder there was a bite mark.

"What the fuck..?!"

"Tristan…" Joey's eyes were wide and scared. "I don't know what happened. I was drunk…I don't remember…"

Tristan backed away. "You mean to tell me you slept with someone else?!"

"I had too much to drink." Joey's tone was desperate. "When I woke up, I didn't know where I was."

"Oh that's really original Joey." Tristan's voice was as cold as his eyes. "Who was it?"

"I don't know." Joey began to cry. "Tris…please…"

Tristan turned and headed for the door, so enraged he could barely see. Joey grabbed him by the arm, stopping him.

"Don't touch me." Tristan jerked his arm from Joey's grip and slammed from the house.

~*~*~*~*~

Keith watched as Tristan stormed from the house. He waited until the brunet's car turned off the street before pulling his jeep into the driveway.

"You lose Tristan." Keith walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

The door flew open, revealing Joey, his face tear streaked.

"Keith? What are you doing here?"

"I just saw Tristan leave. Can I come in?"

Joey stepped back and let the older man enter, shutting the door behind him. He led Keith into the living room, sitting down on the couch and covering his face with his hands.

"Joey, talk to me. Are you alright?" Keith sat down next to the distraught blond and put an arm around his shoulders.

"What happened last night? The last thing I remember was talking to you."

"You don't remember?"

Joey lifted his head, puzzled. "No."

"You told me you were leaving him…you said…I can't believe you don't remember what happened."

"Oh gods…" Joey pulled away from Keith. "You mean we..?"

Keith nodded, moving closer to Joey and reaching out to wipe his tears away. "We did."

A sob escaped the smaller blond. "What am I going to do?"

"Come home with me Joey. He may not want you anymore, but I do."

"I can't…I need to talk to him…explain what happened."

"He's not going to want you back after this Joey." Keith said firmly, standing up and pulling Joey with him. "You know it."

[Gods…he's right. It's over. Tris'll never forgive me. What other choice do I have? I'm so confused.]

"Joey." Keith tipped his face up and looked into his eyes. "Come back with me. I'll help you figure out what to do next, okay?"

Joey nodded, defeated. "Give me a few minutes."

"I'll wait for you outside." Keith kissed him gently on the lips and left the room.

After the door closed, Joey turned and headed up the stairs. After a few minutes he was back in the living room, a large duffle bag in one hand and an envelope in the other.

He place the envelope on the piano, picked up his guitar, and with one last look, left to join Keith.

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan pulled the car over onto the side of the road. He gripped the steering wheel until the leather creaked in protest.

/I can't believe it! He…gods! Why, Joey?!/

He slammed a fist into the dashboard.

/It's my fault. I drove him into someone else's bed…as surely as if I had led him there by the hand. Damn it! I knew this was coming! Why didn't I try to stop it?! I can't let him go. I need him. Gods! I'll quit my job…I'll do anything he wants…anything to make him forgive me./

Tristan pulled the car around in a U-turn, ignoring the blaring horns, his only thought to get back to Joey and beg his forgiveness.

~*~*~*~*~

Once again, Tristan found himself relieved to see Joey's car. He bolted into the house, not noticing that Joey's boots were gone.

Entering the living room, he was about to call out when he noticed two things. The first was that Joey's guitar was gone. The second was the envelope. Sitting down on the bench, he picked it up with a shaking hand, reading the writing on the front.

Tristan,

I can't live like this any more. I know you'll never forgive me. Things have just gotten too bad to fix. We're better off going our separate ways.

Joey

Tristan turned the envelope over, hearing something clink inside. He tore it open and poured the contents into his hand. He stared in shock, his mind and body gone numb.

One was Joey's key ring, containing his house and car keys. But it was the second item that robbed Tristan of rational thought.

Joey's ring.

~*~*~*~*~

Tristan: Gods!

Joey: Ditto!

Ryou: *shudders* why Keith?

YD: *shrugs* I dunno…we borrowed him from MJ.

DD: Speaking of which, let pack him up and ship him back.

YD: You grab a box, I'll call the courier.