Delusions

by Fictatious

First of the Serpentine Series- Bakura Ryou finds himself forced to choose his allegiance, between his friends from school and his darker half. While it's an upsetting decision, it's not one he lingers on for very long. Tendershipping and such.

"I got rid of it! I chucked that thing as far as I could!" Honda shouted up from the arena.

Ryou stared, feeling numb. "Oh..." he said feebly. "Okay..."

"Would you watch Mokuba while we go after Pegasus?" Anzu called up to him.

"... Okay..." Ryou repeated, gripping the rail to keep his hands from shaking. He watched his four class-mates run off down a weird-looking hallway, chasing after their vanished host, and then he looked down at the unconscious ten-year-old propped against the railing next to him. What was wrong with Mokuba?

Ryou clutched at his chest, where the Millenium Ring should have been, and grasped only the fabric of his shirt. No. They were supposed to be his friends, weren't they? How could they take away the one person...

A loud, tearless sob worked its way from Ryou's throat and he looked around, feeling trapped, even in such a large space. He took off running, forgetting about Mokuba, and blundered down unfamiliar hallways, flinging himself at every door he saw until he found one that wasn't locked. He was outside suddenly, where he was greeted with sunlight and gentle wind on his face. He panted and stared out at the small, wooded island.

Honda said he'd thrown the Ring. It must have been outside, right? Into the forest? Another sob passed Ryou's lips and he closed his eyes, picturing the ring in his mind. He'd always been able to find things before, concentrating on what he wanted, following the silent call of his query, but that was when he'd had the Ring to guide him...

There was a warmth in the peripheral of his mind and he focused on it, turning his body slightly to the East to face the glimmer in his mind. As he concentrated on it, it became clearer, shining in the darkness and calling back to him. It felt so close, like it was right in front of him.

With his eyes still closed, Ryou reached out his hand, and his fingertips brushed warm metal. He grabbed the object firmly with both hands before opening his eyes to see the Millenium Ring glinting in the sunlight, its lanyard hanging loose, waiting to be hung around his neck where it belonged.

I found you, Ryou thought to it, sighing with relief and hugging the pendant to his chest.Why?

What? Ryou frowned, still hugging the pendant like a living thing.

You obviously prefer your little 'friends' over me, the Thief's inner-voice was acidic. So what business do you have calling me back?

That's not true, I just didn't want you to hurt them... Ryou protested, shaking his head. They don't deserve it.

One of them does, and the others are guilty by association, the Thief snarled.

He was bitter, angry, betrayed; this wasn't the same jealous rage he'd radiated on the previous occasions when he'd lashed out at Ryou's friends from school; this was different. They weren't even close friends, they were casual lunch-time friends, there was no reason for the Thief to be feeling threatened by them.

What is it? You're acting strange, Ryou said, poking at the Thief's mind and meeting an unusual barrier of hostility

... The midget is hosting him.

The pronoun was so charged with emotion, Ryou didn't have to wonder for a second who the Thief meant. ... The Pharaoh?

Ryou found himself being pushed down and he didn't resist. The Pharaoh? The Pharaoh was inside of Yuugi? That must have been 'the other Yuugi' he'd seen during the Shadow Game. He must be tied to Yuugi's Millenium Puzzle the way the Thief was tied to the Millenium Ring.

Ryou opened his eyes and found himself sitting in his soul-room, with soft, warm light coming in through the shaded windows. The Thief was outside, controlling Ryou's body and not letting him see out through his own eyes. Maybe he could have if he tried, but right now he didn't really want to. What the Thief had said, about Yuugi and the Pharaoh being with him... This time it was different than one of his jealous fits. This time it made sense.

Ryou hugged his knees against his chest and bit his lip. The Puzzle had made Yuugi, and therefor the other three, the Thief's enemies. But not just that. Honda had taken the Millenium Ring from Ryou, had tried to loose it... Of course he didn't understand, but still... Doing something like that without even bothering to ask Ryou... Honda had blatantly stolen from him. What kind of friend does that?

Ryou closed his eyes and shivered. The friendship of Yuugi and his friends, and the constant, ever-present companionship of his Thief were mutually exclusive. He couldn't have both.

In the last week, Ryou had been a fifth wheel among Yuugi's friends. He was treated with the politeness of a casual acquaintance, left out of their jokes and forgotten in conversation. Even when they said he was their friend, he still felt like an outsider, isolated while surrounded. And Honda had stolen from him, taking the one thing Ryou would have run into a burning building to save...

He'd tried to take away Ryou's Thief. The one person he depended on to always be with him. The Thief was his life-line, the most loyal and constant anything that Ryou had ever had. More dependable than friends, and certainly more dependable than Ryou's father; Ryou would have felt confident saying that the Thief would never betray him.

But now he had betrayed his Thief.

"I'm sorry," Ryou whispered, then he closed his eyes and thought the apology harder, focusing on conveying the sentiment to his Thief. I'm sorry.

There was silence for several moments before the response came, whispered directly into his mind. I was careless. I didn't mean to involve you. There was a long pause, and Ryou could feel that the Thief was distracted by something. Can we please finish this later? I'm doing something very important right now.

... What are you doing?

Reading a fortune. I'll read yours later, if you like, but I have to concentrate right now.

Ryou frowned to himself. Fortune-telling? That was completely out of left field. Ryou shook his head and sighed. He felt tired suddenly, and his soul-room seemed to have conjured up a futon in the corner as it tended to when the Thief was out for a walk and Ryou needed a nap. He stood up, rolling his shoulders, and moved across to the warm, inviting bedding, feeling very much in need of a nap.

...

"Ryou."

Ryou's eyes flickered open to the feeling of someone stroking his cheek. He looked up into eyes nearly identical to his own, which gazed back at him with a quiet anxiety. Ryou smiled and lifted his arms to wrap around the Thief's neck. The Thief melted into him, pressing their lips together and settling around Ryou, one hand combing gently through Ryou's hair.

They hadn't spoken for a full night and day, not since the shadow-game with Yuugi -no, the Pharaoh. Ryou had felt lonely without the Thief's voice, without the constant presence at his back, and it was a relief to have his Thief back here with him in his soul room, that wonderful little slice of unreality where they could touch like this. Ryou sighed into the kiss.

As the Thief pressed his body against Ryou and deepened the kiss, Ryou suddenly noticed something that made him freeze. The Thief was trembling. Ever so slightly. The Thief pulled back a few inches and looked at him, Ryou cupped a hand against the Thief's cheek and searched the brown eyes above him. There was relief and need painted there and Ryou opened his mouth, trying to formulate a question.

"I was going to leave," the Thief whispered.

Ryou blinked. "Leave?" he asked, puzzled.

"I found a body without a soul in it," the Thief explained, looking away. "And since you chose your friends over me..."

A jolt of fear and desperate loneliness shot through Ryou and he grabbed the Thief's face, pulling his eyes back to his own. "Don't leave me!" he whispered in a panicked little voice. "Please!"

The Thief's face crumpled up as he looked back at Ryou and then he leaned down to bury his face against Ryou's neck. He was trembling again and his breath was fast and hitching. Ryou brought his arms tight around the Thief's shoulders, pulling the Thief's comforting weight onto him, and kissed his ear.

"... I killed someone," the Thief whispered, barely audible. He didn't lift his head, keeping his face close to the pillow where Ryou couldn't see him. "A few hours ago."

Ryou was silent, staring up at the ceiling with his mind blank, unable to form a reply, unable to even understand what the Thief had just said.

"Cold blood. Mutilated the corpse and everything," the Thief's voice had the tiniest hint of a whine to it, plaintive, begging for some kind of response.

"... Who?" Ryou breathed, knowing he needed to say something, but for the life of him, he couldn't seem to figure out what was the appropriate response to the Thief's admission.

"Pegasus," the Thief whispered back, still not lifting his head, keeping himself where Ryou couldn't see his expression. "He had the Millennium Eye."

The Millennium Eye wasn't like the Ring or the Puzzle; it wasn't removable. It might not have been possible to take it from Pegasus without killing him, even if it was done by a surgeon. The fact that the man could see with it indicated that it had integrated itself into his brain with some kind of shadow-magic. Ryou should have seen this coming, really. Of course the Thief would have to kill Pegasus to retrieve the Eye.

Even reconciling that, a point still bothered Ryou, seeming out of character, even in light of the necessity for murder. "... You mutilated him?" he asked.

"I... I couldn't get a grip on it..." the Thief said, his voice sounding like it was trying to crack even though he was still just whispering. "... I took a paper-weight and I broke this part." He finally pushed himself back so that Ryou could see his face, and he tapped above his eye.

Ryou stared silently at the spot the Thief had pointed out. It was the outer edge of the eye-socket, just in front of the temple, where the bone formed a curve from the eyebrow to the cheek-bone. It was perfectly logical, Ryou thought to himself. The Millennium Eye was metal, inflexible, and it had looked big, bone would have to be moved to get fingers around behind it...

The mental image of the Thief's fingers sinking into Pegasus' eye-socket, scooping out the Millennium Eye, made Ryou clench his teeth as his stomach turned. Sick sick sick.

"I didn't leave fingerprints!" the Thief said, panicking at the expression that must have come over Ryou's face. "I wore my gloves the whole time. When we get home, we'll put everything you're wearing in the incinerator and there will be nothing to put you in that room. Not even a hair. I was careful."

Ryou nodded slowly, trembling. The Thief hovered above him, his expression worried, almost scared as he pet Ryou's cheek and tried to reassure him. Ryou hadn't even thought about murder investigations and forensic evidence yet. If the Thief killed somebody, he did it through Ryou's body, and that meant any shred of physical evidence, at any crime scene left by the Thief, lead solidly to Ryou. That thought was terrifying, but he knew he could believe it when the Thief said he'd been careful. He knew how to be invisible, and he understood what modern genetic analysis could do.

"Y-your shoes weren't keeping the water out anymore, so we need to get you new ones anyway," the Thief said, looking at Ryou's collar rather than his eyes. "And- and I checked the things inside your pockets, and your wallet and your phone and things didn't get any blood on them so they'll be okay. I covered all the little drops so nobody can see them, and as soon as we get home, we'll put it all in a bag and then you can take a shower and put on nice, clean clothes, and then we'll take everything right down to the basement and put it in the incinerator ourselves instead of using the chute, and then you can see that it's gone and you won't have to worry."

Ryou nodded again, feeling numb. "It'll be okay," the Thief whispered, still not looking at Ryou's face. He was trembling again, it was more pronounced than before. "I'll take care of everything. Nobody can ever find you. I was careful." The Thief closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying to calm himself down. "I- I-" he mumbled, his eyes still closed, his shaking unceased. "... This isn't going to be the last time, Ryou," he said, his voice tiny.

He opened his eyes again, finally looking back at Ryou properly. "I can't let anyone get in the way. I can't let anyone stop me. I have to do whatever it takes. I've come so far, Ryou, I'm almost there," the Thief's voice was desperate, pleading. "I can almost make him answer for what he did! I'm so close! I can't stop now. I can't. This is why I exist. This is what I am." He dropped his head again, hiding from Ryou, their cheeks just barely touching. "I have to be a murderer, Ryou. I have to be the same as him... I have to win."

Ryou pressed his eyes shut against the threat of tears and nodded again. "I know," he whispered. "Wh-what can I do? How can I help you win?"

The tension in the Thief's shoulders suddenly melted and his face pulled back a bit to find Ryou's mouth again. Ryou parted his lips and invited the Thief's tongue inside with his own. "You're doing it," the Thief whispered when he pulled away, just the tiniest bit. "You're keeping me sane."

Their mouths came together again. The kiss was deep and desperate, charged with emotion and need. Ryou kissed back just as desperately, one hand sliding into the hair at the nape of the Thief's neck and the other moved to grip his shoulder. Ryou noticed vaguely that the shirt had disappeared and his palm was pressed against bare, heated flesh now. Clothing, like everything else in his soul room, faded away when it wasn't wanted anymore.

Because it was all imaginary; the room and everything in it, even themselves, was just in their minds. Ryou's body was sleeping somewhere, and Thief's body was long gone. Every time they touched, it was an imaginary touch. Imaginary kisses, imaginary caresses, imaginary hands on imaginary skin.

His councilor used to say that Ryou's 'fantasy worlds' were his way of escaping reality, a mechanism for shutting out the parts of life that were difficult and hiding behind a delusion. She thought he was one of those pathetic '2D-lovers' or something, because she thought the Thief was one of his 'delusions.' The Thief was what separated Ryou from the guys with their pornographic body-pillows or their giant, silicone dolls. He wasn't avoiding the difficulties and heartbreak of a real relationship; he'd let himself fall into the most difficult relationship he possibly could have found.

The lips on Ryou's neck felt real, because his brain was processing them the same as it would if they were. Ryou closed his eyes and let out a happy sigh as hands gently slid up his sides, ticklish against his ribs. The Thief shifted his weight and kissed along Ryou's collarbone, eliciting a soft mewl. The warmth of his Thief's body and the softness of his lips weren't real, but the intent was, the affection was, the perception and the memory left in its wake -the interaction- was real.

Yuugi was just the latest proof that the Thief wasn't the sad creation of a damaged mind; another piece of evidence that vindicated Ryou and told him he wasn't insane. That this wasn't a dream. It was imaginary, but it was also real, because it was shared between the two of them, two autonomous psyches sheltered within one body. It wasn't his fantasy; it was their fantasy, and that made all the difference. Their fantasy was collaborative, synergistic, a cadavre exquis of the mind. Art.

The Thief's tongue slid over Ryou's nipple and his breath hitched. He slid his hands over the back of his Thief's shoulders, reveling in the feel of smooth skin over dynamic muscles. One of the Thief's hands supported his weight, the other caressed Ryou's thigh as he slowly moved lower, nipping softly at Ryou's belly.

Ryou moaned as his Thief crouched between his knees and leaned down, gently blowing hot breath against the head or Ryou's erection. Moments later, he'd taken Ryou into his mouth as a hand slid between Ryou's thighs and stroked a burning line down his perineum, eliciting a deep groan from the bottom of Ryou's throat. The Thief kept licking and sucking avariciously at Ryou's erection as he worked his fingers inside and gently stretched Ryou's entrance, with Ryou moaning shamelessly all the while.

Finally his fingers withdrew and the Thief crawled over Ryou, gazing straight into his eyes as he lifted Ryou's hips off the bed. Ryou gasped lustily when his Thief pushed into him, throwing his head back and arching his spine. The Thief rocked into Ryou again and again. Ryou mewled with pleasure and reached his arms up, capturing his Thief and dragging their bodies closer as they moved together in synchronized rhythm.

The Thief leaned his head down and pressed his mouth against Ryou's neck, panting, kissing, biting, and the pace grew faster and faster, their bodies moving with more and more passionate force. Ryou had his head thrown back and eyes closed, blocking out sight to focus all his attention on the sheer sensation, submerging himself in feeling and the low, gasping grunts his Thief was making near his collarbone.

It all became a fevered upheaval of incredible pleasure as they hit the crescendo, brain synapses firing wildly as imaginary bodies crashed against each other. Ryou dug his fingers into his Thief's hair and back and he screamed with complete abandon, desire reaching its zenith as they climaxed together, with the perfect synchronization that could only come from being inside each other's heads.

After riding out the orgasm, they panted and kissed wetly in the afterglow, it seeming impossible to get enough of each other even as post-coitus exhaustion tried to claim them. When they finally succumbed, they nestled themselves snugly in each other's arms, basking in the heat of each other's bodies. There was flawless comfort and warmth in their imaginary embrace. Hollywood perfection that couldn't be constructed in real life or in real bodies. Their foreheads rested together on the pillow, sweat and tangled, white hair mixing indistinguishably.

Their faces were too close to have focused in a world bound by natural laws, but Ryou lay with his eyes half-open, gazing at his Thief's face. Nothing here was real except the things that really mattered. His Thief's face wasn't real, but the relaxed, happy expression on it was. Their bodies weren't real, but the closeness was, the touching was. The warmth, the connection, the trust.

Ryou tilted his chin forward and pressed their imaginary lips together softly. A tiny smile played across his Thief's lips. "Thief," Ryou whispered and his Thief gave him an attentive look. "I love you," Ryou murmured.

At Ryou's words, his Thief's eyes went wide with shock, confusion and a trace of fear that both pained Ryou and made the feeling stronger. His Thief's mouth opened a bit, as though trying to find some kind of response and failing. Ryou leaned forward and kissed him again. "Shhhhhh..." he crooned. "It's okay..."

The sudden confusion and apprehension eased out of his Thief's face as he relaxed again, but his arms squeezed possessively around Ryou and might have trembled very very slightly, as he held him almost too tight. Ryou closed his eyes and let himself sink into sleep.

...

Bakhura generally tried to avoid waking up in his own soul room. Partly because Ryou wouldn't be there, but mostly because he hated it. Spending time there was an unpleasant chore. It was dark and cold and empty. But it was never quiet. There were always things whispering at him. The things unnerved him, made him wonder if he was still in control of his own mind.

Today, he woke up to the whispers. He blinked his eyes open and swatted at his ear. A huge, black serpent darted its head away to avoid the slap. Bakhura had never had any particular dislike of reptiles, not like most people who loathed the creatures simply for existing, but the black snake that coiled itself around him whenever he was in this dungeon, that one made him nervous.

He didn't like the things it said.

Your boy is gone, you know. It whispered.

Bakhura glared at it and sat up, looking around at the sand-covered floor of his stone prison. He didn't remember coming in here, when had that happened? The serpent's answer certainly couldn't be trusted. No. His host would be just on the other side of that door.

Bakhura pushed the snake's body off of him and struggled to stand up. The creature scoffed and slithered around his feet. You don't believe me? Humans can not be trusted. The boy has gone and left you alone.

"You're full of shit," Bakhura grumbled, stepping over the snake and making his way to the narrow, sandstone stair-case.

The serpent followed him up, slithering right over the top of his feet, and nearly tripping him several times, as Bakhura cursed and kicked at it, before they finally reached the platform in front of the wood and iron door. The snake pooled at his ankles, forming a soft circle around his feet and giving him a haughty, challenging look. Bakhura ignored it and pulled on the door handle.

It didn't move. He pulled again, more insistently, as the serpent started to snicker cruelly. The door still wouldn't open. Bakhura lifted himself up on his toes and looked through the tiny window in the door. Outside of it, he saw only darkness. There should have been Ryou's paper door just a meter away, but it wasn't there.

Didn't I tell you? the snake hissed and snickered derisively.

"Shut up!" Bakhura shouted at it and then turned back to the window, straining his eyes. Ryou's door had to be there!

He's gone. Your precious boy has left you. Because you let him. He should never have had the freedom to escape. Haven't I told you that humans are made to be used?

"SHUT UP!" Bakhura screamed again, hysteria starting to set in. He couldn't get out. He couldn't open the door. Because there was nothing outside of this room. Ryou's mind and Ryou's body were gone.

He'd discarded the ring. Why? Had he changed his mind? Had he run from Bakhura like the serpent said? But why? He'd said he loved him! Why had he left?

"RYOU!" Bakhura screamed at the tiny window, trying to push his hands past the bars. As soon as his fingers went beyond the edge of his door, out into the darkness, they disappeared from view, like being dipped into some black liquid. "RYOU!" Bakhura screamed again, desperate and scared as he felt the snake crawling up his body, circling, squeezing, pulling him to his knees with its weight.

"Ryou..." he whimpered, clawing at the door so desperately his fingernails began to tear.

The snake's head was right next to his ear now, its tongue tickling him as it whipped out between breaths. He can't hear you. He's gone. Just like I told you he would be. You have no use for human affection, Bakhura. It's a filthy habit that you really need to break.

"N-no. It's an accident. It has to be a mistake," Bakhura whispered, sinking closer to the ground, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. "He'll come back. He loves me."

LOVE! The snake scoffed. Love is a meaningless word! That boy feared you, as he should, and because of your unwillingness to face reality, he has escaped from you at his first opportunity!

"That's a lie! He could have gone before if he'd wanted to!" Bakhura protested. "He didn't. He didn't. And he's not gone now. He'll come back..." He pressed himself against the door, resting his cheek next to his bloody fingertips.

Do you never tire of living in delusion? The snake hissed next to his ear. Do you not have the immortality of a god? There is no frail human heart within your chest. And yet over countless ages, you have failed to complete your revenge!

Bakhura trembled, pressing his face harder against the door and feeling a few splinters sink into his skin. "Shut up," he whispered. "You don't know anything."

The snake just snorted.

Bakhura dug his nails into the wooden door and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, biting down on his lip and trying not to hear the serpent's voice. It was lying. It was lying. It always lied.

Suddenly he heard a sound, like a muffled thump, and it had come from outside. Bakhura's eyes snapped open and he looked up at the little window in the door, he could see light coming through it now. "RYOU!" he screamed desperately.

A moment later, the sounds of a dozen bolts and locks coming undone greeted Bakhura's ears and then the door he'd been leaning on gave way, letting him tumble into the hall. He heard Ryou's voice; he gasped and then shouted in a frightened, angry sounding voice, "Let go of him!"

Bakhura looked up to see Ryou and the snake glaring at each other. The snake was hissing viscously at Ryou, its head bobbing back and forth slightly as though readying to strike. Bakhura's hand shot up and grabbed the serpent around the neck as he struggled and kicked at its lower body, still tangled around him.

With Ryou's help, he managed to get free of the serpent's coils and they both shoved the angry creature over the ledge, back down into the dungeon, as it hissed and screamed insults and threats at them. The next moment, Ryou grabbed Bakhura by the arm and all but threw him out into the hall, slamming the prison door shut.

Then they both stood in the hallway, panting and staring at each other. Bakhura was the first one to speak. "You left me," his voice sounded whiney and pathetic to his own ears.

Ryou lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it would be this bad," he said quietly. "It was only for a little while."

"Why?" Bakhura asked plaintively. He was confused, and maybe upset, when Ryou looked back up at him and smiled.

"Let me show you," he whispered, catching Bakhura's hands and pulling their bodies close together. He closed his eyes and Bakhura followed suit, floating up towards consciousness.

A moment later, their eyes opened. Ryou's body was sitting at the kitchen table with his head rested on his arms. Ryou sat up, while Bakhura watched passively through his eyes. He then pushed away from the table and walked toward the bathroom. When he got there, Ryou proceeded to take off his shirt.

What are you doing? Bakhura asked curiously as their sight was momentarily obscured by fabric.

"Look," Ryou instructed as Bakhura again caught sight of their reflection in the mirror. There was a rectangular bandage carefully taped to Ryou's chest, just bellow the collarbone on the left side, above his heart.

What happened to you? Bakhura demanded, internally searching, and finding, a slight, burning pain under the bandage. Who did this?

He was baffled at first when Ryou just smiled, looking very smug, and raised his hands to carefully peal back the tape. Ryou leaned closer to the mirror and focused on the mark that was being uncovered by the removal of the bandage, and Bakhura's mind went blank, not quite able to process what he was seeing.

He stared at the finely drawn black lines carved right into Ryou's flesh. The shape of a cartouche outlining tiny, perfect, ancient characters that Bakhura couldn't help but recognize.

... My name...?

"Your Ren is part of me now," Ryou whispered. "Permanently. No one can steal it. Not even you."

Bakhura just stared, unable to even begin to think of a response.

"Your Ren, right next to my Ib, because you are my Sheut and I cannot live without you." Ryou closed his eyes, smiling with satisfaction. "Our Baw are connected."*

... Come inside. Bakhura couldn't even identify what emotions he was feeling. There were too many pressing at him to sort out, and so many of them were completely unfamiliar. Please?

Yes. Ryou opened his eyes again and carefully put the bandage back into place, again covering the fresh tattoo to protect it from infection. It was far precious to allow anything to mar its perfect lines. After he was satisfied that the bandage was in order, Ryou walked out of the bathroom, flipping off the light, and went to his bedroom. He settled himself on the bed and then his consciousness and Bakhura's slid down into Ryou's warm, afternoon-lit soul-room.

...

...

* Ryou was naming several parts of the soul in Egyptian tradition. The Ren is a person's name and their existence post-death is tied to their name, thus why writing someone's name down as many times as possible (or destroying every instance of someone's name if you don't like them) is extremely important within ancient Egyptian religion. The Ib is the heart, which also makes up part of the soul and is counted independently of the body (the Ha). The Sheut is a person's shadow, which is linked to them and neither can exist without the other. Baw is the plural of Ba, which is the personality.

A/N: So this has been a rewrite of the original version that I posted 10 months ago. When I first wrote it, I was still kind of experimenting and getting a feel for the characters, and then this fic ended up being the beginning of a much larger story-verse (the Serpentine Series) and so when I came back three fics down the road from the first version of this one, I found that some of the characterization I'd written in it didn't fit the way I'd ended up shaping the characters in the later fics. If you want to read the original version of this fic, it's available on my livejournal still, but it's really of a lower quality in my opinion.

If you want to continue with the Serpentine Series, the next fic I wrote after this one was the one-shot Bad Religion. And no matter how much time passes, I always appreciate an out-of-the-blue review.