Rock Bottom: Season One

Waffles

"What's your apartment number?" Joey asked as he locked his car and shoved his keys into his pocket, letting his long legs carry him far into the building and straight to the stairs. Mokuba's answer confirmed his assumption that they were not on the first floor. Joey only hung up once he was outside their door, reaching for the handle. Mokuba was close to tears as he sprang up from the floor, Seto's cell still in his hand.

"It's gonna be okay," Joey said before the child could say anything. He walked briskly over to both of them and knelt beside Seto, prompting Mokuba to do the same. While the blond was focused on the immediate danger, he still noticed the amber bottles, the acrid air, the dingy walls. The broken glass by Seto's head was more concerning than anything else.

"Tell me what happened," Joey asked; Mokuba had been too distressed on the phone to tell him, but now that he was here in person, he seemed to have calmed down a bit. Joey gently rolled Seto onto his back, revealing a dark red gash flecked with sparkling amber crumbs on the side of his head. Joey tried to block the wound from Mokuba's view, not wanting to upset him further.

"When we got home, our dad was..." He struggled to find the right word even as he tried not to look at the blood. "Angry. He grabbed Seto, and Seto told me to leave, so I went to our room and locked the door, like I always do." Mokuba paused to swallow hard, his hands shaking as much as his voice did. "I could hear them fighting. Dad was shouting. I heard the glass break and Dad slammed the door when he left. Then I came out and he was like this."

"Seto, can you hear me? Seto?" Joey's calls were unanswered, and he knew there was only one thing left he could do. He pulled out his phone again and started dialing 911. "Mokuba, get me a towel." The raven-haired child got up and dashed away just as the dispatcher answered Joey's call and started asking questions.

Joey stayed remarkably calm as he applied pressure to the wound with the towel he was given and kept talking with the dispatch on the phone, simultaneously trying to keep Mokuba from dissolving into hysterics. Seto woke up a few minutes into the call, and Joey managed to keep him talking. He tried to sit up, insisting that he was fine, but Joey stopped him.

"You're not fine, Seto, you're bleeding, and you need to lay still," Joey said, repeating things the dispatcher told him to say.

"But he is okay," Mokuba insisted hopefully, reaching out to clasp his brother's hand as slow blue eyes found his tear-stained face. "He's awake now, he's okay. He doesn't have to leave." Mokuba looked frightened at the prospect of his brother being taken away, even if he was only being taken to the hospital.

"I'm sorry Mokuba, but he does have to go, and you know it." This was hard for Joey. He needed to be the calm one, the mature one, the controlled one. He needed to comfort Mokuba and save Seto and make a plan for what they were going to do. He needed to be the adult in a home that wasn't even his. "They'll be here in just a few more minutes, just stay awake until then, okay, Seto?" he pleaded. The brunette looked sleepy and irritated more than anything else. He didn't even look like he was in pain.

"Who's coming?" Seto asked, his voice weak in a way that frightened his brother. Seto never sounded weak like that.

"The paramedics are coming. They'll take you to the hospital so they can stitch you up and check your brain."

"Mokuba's right; I'm fine." Seto made another attempt to sit up, making Joey frustrated.

"You are going to lay down right there or so help me I will hold you down," Joey snapped, his brown eyes burning fiercely. "You are going to the hospital whether you like it or not, because it's what you need."

"Okay." Seto gave in much more easily than Joey expected him to, even with the head injury.

"Mokuba, do you see the Millennium Rod?" Joey asked, and Mokuba looked at him in confusion.