His crimson eyes glared at the crescent moon that illuminated his silver mess of rather spiky hair as he lay on his back, uncomfortably, on a park bench in Ra-knows- where. Really, the time or the place didn't matter. It never mattered. All that mattered was that he was alone and it was quiet. It was finally bloody quiet. No annoying familiar purple hoodied mid-riffed showing blonde to bug him with evil plans that never worked although Bakura's stomach growled…he did miss the dumb blonde's Koshary. He closed his eyes, not wanting to think about it. Why was he there? Why was he on that little park bench? Well…it was simple really…he'd been kicked out. Really, he knew that Marik had a thing with calling him Fluffy…and he finally just snapped although he never meant to sound as harsh as he had. He covered his face with one of his arms while he let his other arm dangle…the only thing that kept him warm on this cool night was his black jacket because without it, well, his host Ryou just wasn't really the cool type. Not that the kid was bad, he just wasn't very strong or anything.

In the meantime, Marik had been pacing, since Bakura hadn't returned, he was angry but more so at himself than Bakura. He was pissed at Bakura…but Bakura was his friend and Marik didn't have many of those…and he liked being with that odd white bat-eared guy. Marik felt the hair on his neck stand up suddenly.

Florence left you alone again…my little Hikari…is all….alone…

Marik clapped a hand to his ears in horror and his heart began to pound as that familiar phsycho laughter began to ring in his ears and make his legs turn to jelly. "N-no I'm not…shut up! Go away!" he screamed.

Oh…but you are…and you know it…he called you…what was it? A sissy cross-dressing twinkle-toes? And that was him being nice~ He said he was better off not knowing you…

Marik felt himself beginning to transform even before it had already started. Stumbling over to his mirror, he looked into it, seeing his usual eye-color go from amethyst to a darker—much darker—color. His hair began to stand up as Yami Marik began to emerge, laughing his dark Psycho laugh as he easily tugged back his little brittle hikari into the shadow realm—when Marik was an emotional wreck, the take over was really just too easy—and then straightened up. Marik had actually changed his clothes for once—he was wearing black pants with a tucked in sleeveless grey shirt—now all Yami Marik needed was his cape…"Feh. Good guys are always the ones who think they're the only ones who look good in a cape…" Yami Marik grumbled as he adjusted it around his broader shoulders. He flexed his muscles and then went to grab the Millenium Rod…he growled when he realized it wasn't there.

His eyes narrowed into animalistic slits and his nails seemed to sharpen ever so slightly… "Oh Florence…you're just making things harder for yourself…~" Letting out an evil cackle, Yami Marik left the small apartment not interested in destroying anything…just one particular little thief.

Bakura frowned as he lay on that park bench, one arm and leg dangling. He was trying to sleep but he was somewhere between being asleep and being pissed off at life in general. It didn't help that he had a fight with Marik. Marik was no doubt pissed but Bakura knew it'd pass. He was used to spending the night on park benches sometimes when Marik got mad at him. The evil Psychopathic demon within him hadn't come out any of those times so Bakura was positive that it was going to be just another night "in the doghouse." He held the Millenium Rod, snorting a little, as he sat up with it. He had it…the item that he'd come here for…but why wasn't he satisfied? "Marik…" he murmured.

A shadow loomed over Bakura and his bat ears quivered slightly—much to the amusement of the mysterious loomer—and he took no notice, his thoughts wrapped only around his fight with Marik. It wasn't until he felt an arm wrap around his neck, forcing him to look up….while the other plucked the rod effortlessly from his slackened grip. "Really Florence…" an eerie voice that sounded as though it consisted of multiple voices –it was actually—sneered at Bakura, while Bakura tried to jolt out as soon as his senses caught up to him, "You're making this way too easy~ I was pissed that you took my rod but…since you aren't actually resisting me taking it back…I may go just a little bit lighter on your punishment!". As though to humor him, Yami Marik did in fact, let Bakura go and Bakura stumbled off that park bench and eyed Yami Marik, heart pounding and fists clenched. Normally he'd run away…but Marik…His heart lurched. Not Marik. He couldn't leave him.

"…You…" Bakura growled, "You have what you want….leave me alone…and Marik!"

Yami Marik seemed to ponder this a moment, funny because Bakura was pretty damn sure he was too stupid for gears to turn in his head that held nothing but broken dreams and all that jazz. Before Bakura could speak, he felt his back hit the dirt path and his vision went from the Psychotic grinning fiend to the night sky and even that was short lived as Bakura found himself in the awkward position of Yami Marik pinning him… while on top of him at the same time. Yami Marik stared down and let out a low growling snicker as Bakura refused to punch him… this was Marik's body too. "Let me go…" Bakura snarled hissing.

This seemed to amuse Yami Marik because the next second, Bakura could feel the touch of cool metal, against the collar of his shirt …slashing down in one fluid movement, Bakura knew his shirt was torn. He trembled but refused to cry out. He just glared back hatefully trying to figure out what the hell Yami Marik was up to. He winced slightly feeling the sharp edge of one of the end axe-like blades of the millenium item begin to trace along his collarbone and his back went rigid but he refused to be reduced to a begger and merely gazed indifferently back into Yami Marik's bloodlust filled eyes. "…Marik…." Bakura said quietly, calmly, searching the face of his best friend—his only friend.

"Rahahahaha… you're words fall on deaf ears foolish little thief… " Yami Marik sneered and he tightened his grip on Bakura's wrists while holding Bakura's wrists over Bakura's head, Bakura's elbows bent slightly, and Yami Marik enjoyed the look of momentary confusion that undoubtedly flickered in Bakura's otherwise finely composed features.

"H-hey!...let me GO!" Bakura hissed and he twisted suddenly, interlocking his legs with Yami Marik's and he ended up kicking Yami Marik in the knee cap…hard.

Yami Marik let out a pained roar as his grip instantly slackened and Bakura wasted no time in getting the hell away from him. He backed away, watching as Yami Marik stumbled back, and went down on his one good knee, clutching the other one with his hand and feeling very , very, angry. "Fuck you Florence! …I'll rip your limbs off and stick your head on my wall…."

"OH really? You don't really have much refined taste do you? You should watch HGTV very informative on home decorating…." Bakura snarked back, hoping he could apologize to Marik as soon as he got the bloody beast away from him. He only knew this because Marik spent some of his free time actually watching that channel and although Bakura acted like he could care less…he actually was interested to some extent. Yami Marik snarled at Bakura and Bakura despite knowing that provoking his friend while being controlled by a demon was probably not the best move, couldn't help but stick his tongue out at him. Yami Marik narrowed his eyes and growling, he held his rod out in front of him and the eye began to glow. Bakura instantly knew that Yami Marik was looking for a holy Ra fight but he wasn't going to let him have one. He liked this park and he didn't feel like letting this nut destroy it. Heart pounding, Bakura knew one way to get his friend, his real friend, Marik, to come back. He saluted the demon and smirked, "Catch me if you can~" before dashing off. Yami Marik stumbled to his feet, more than eager to catch his damned prey. He hadn't counted on Bakura actually attacking him.

Bakura ignored the cold that embraced his chest as his ripped shirt flew behind him like his coat and he felt light on his feet. Running from authority was something Bakura had always been used to but apparently, Ryou's body wasn't cut out for strenuous excorsize and he found himself slowing down after only a couple twists and dips within the city's streets which were lit up like a tree at christmas time. Advertisements lit up on electronic billboards and the people walked about doing their business and Bakura managed to bob about in the crowd . He hated crowds and he ducked into an alley hoping to find a trash bin that he could use as leverage to get over the brick wall that he figured would be waiting for him. He knew Melvin wouldn't dare come after him…right? He skidded to a stop finding out too late that he did in fact reach a dead end and there was no trash bin. Looking to the side he saw a fire run, rickety but since Ryou was light as a feather, Bakura could only hope that it could hold his weight. He took a running jump and his hand grabbed for the metal rail and his fingertips brushed it but he fell backwards and quickly twisted to break his fall. Grunting as his wrist felt a small pain from the strain of breaking his fall, he managed to roll to his feet and stumble against the wall for support. He felt a stitch in his side and gasped a little. Shivering a bit from the cold that bit Bakura's skin wasn't really helping, although his body had warmed up from the running… Bakura still felt cold. His mahagony eyes scanned the alley and he frowned. He needed to get Yami Marik back to the apartment. Of course, he didn't really want Yami Marik destroying everything but he didn't feel like explaining to the cops about Marik's pest problem.

He knew Yami Marik wouldn't be able to catch up as quickly thanks to Bakura bruising his kneecap, but he'd be angry. Bakura looked up at the fire escape once more and backed away a bit, getting ready to take another running jump. Yami Marik meanwhile had taken the back alley route to avoid coming into contact with people. He hated people. He had only one goal and that was to catch a thief. His nostrils flared as he used his rather inhuman sense of smell to get a whiff of Bakura's scent. Bakura had a unique scent…so that made him easier to track. He turned his head and he really didn't give a shit as to who saw him and who didn't. He scampered up the side of a building and leapt from the fire escapes, finally landing on the roof of a particular building he jumped rather easily and scoured the area for the unnatural mess of white fluffy hair below. A slow psychotic grin spread across his face as he spotted the shorter white haired male, who was attempting to jump up a fire escape;it was a good 15 foot drop below where Melvin stood. He enjoyed the fact it was nighttime….his shadow was very well hidden and Bakura wouldn't be able to sense him from this high up. His cape billowing behind him like the ripples of the very night itself, he leapt down easily the fire escape on his end, not taking his eyes off of the other, whose back was turned to him as his small…firm but rather skinny arms made a swipe for the fire escape once more. Yami Marik watched as Bakura grunted and managed to twist his rather feminite body acrobatically and clambor up on the opposite fire escape. Yami Marik growled low and tried to assess how to close that remaining space between him and Bakura.

Bakura turned, feeling his hair rise, as though he was being watched and his eyes widened as he felt himself be tackled a split second later by something tall, heavy, and very very angry. Feeling himself fall backwards on the small cramped rickety stairwell, Bakura saw stars as his head hit metal. He didn't have time to groan before he felt Yami Marik hoist him up over his shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes. Bakura was only faintly aware that his head felt like it was splitting open….only faintly aware of the smell of blood as a small river began to trickle down from the right side of his head. He struggled weakly but his hits were no harder than a paint brush and Yami Marik let out a victorious laugh as he threw Bakura to the ground. Bakura felt winded and disorientated as he hit the ground and he gasped, clenching his teeth in pain as he crumpled to the ground. His head hurt, his back hurt and Bakura was pretty damn sure he'd broken his arm and a couple ribs. Ryou's body was not meant for fighting….at least not without more muscle and Bakura wished he'd gotten someone with a little bit more strength for facing against Yami Marik. Clenching his teeth tightly together, Bakura breathed hard and ragged as he tried to feebly crawl to his feet. Yami Marik grabbed Bakura by the scruff of his jacket and yanked him backwards onto his back again and Bakura cried out in pain. He didn't want to give this monster the satisfaction but his head was splitting and he could feel himself swimming in and out of conciousness. He could feel Yami Marik leaning over him, pressing the rod up under Bakura's chin at his throat and Bakura feebly scrabbled, trying to claw at Yami Marik's arm and hand in a weak defiant attempt to get the monster to let go. "M-marik…" he gasped out. "Y-you have to …fight-"

His words were halted as he felt Yami Marik trace a finger down his exposed chest. Bakura shivered and felt the excruciating pain searing and screaming in his borrowed body. His grip slackened and his heart raced…He had let Marik down…Ryou down. He was going to be killed…all because of his and Marik's stupid argument. Bakura huffed and sluggishly murmured, "You…I….we're…I won't….le-leave your side…idiot…." His fumbling was met with only psychotic laughter and Bakura felt himself slipping as the pain began to numb him. Yami Marik snorted and poked Bakura with his millenium rod, but the broken thief didn't stir. Yami Marik pondered whether to finish him off right then and there in front of his hikari who was sobbing somewhere in the back of his mind, but then a slow evil smirk spread across Yami Marik's face.

"I know…exactly what I'm going to do …we're going to change your punishment a bit …" He hoisted Bakura over his shoulder like he was pillow and grunted, heading for the apartment so that he could execute the plan in the one place that Marik held most dear.