My own interpretation of Bakura's confrontation with Marik, just how that injury to his arm occurred, and how they got him so sick.
Why did I do it? What in Ra's name possessed me to do such a thing? To damage such a pure, innocent thing is surely a crime. Ugh, I'm becoming sentimental. Still, if such an opportunity presented itself now, would I take it? Could I spill the blood of my hikari again?
Such were the thoughts that ran through the troubled mind of Bakura, former Egyptian tomb robber, as he wandered the streets. He wasn't too happy about heading for home, because Ryou's father was coming for a visit. For one thing, to see an almost exact duplicate of his son in the house would surely scare the pants off the man, and he didn't want to be present for the hugging, the "I missed you"s, or the stories of what had gone on since they'd last seen each other. So what if it was raining? The rain was a warm, gentle drizzle, nothing to worry about. What he was worrying about was if he was trustworthy. He'd willingly spilt the blood of his other half, while he still inhabited his body. The thought of what he'd done never bothered him, at least, not until he had his own body again. With his own body came the memories of everything he'd done in Ryou's body, and he felt extremely guilty. The remembrance of that particular spilling of blood, the Battle City incident, was fresh in his mind, an unshakeable burden that had stayed with him all day. It resurfaced now, like a tape being played over and over in his head, with someone else holding the control.
Flashback Bakura stood in the narrow mouth of an alley, his back to the street, facing the motorcycle that approached. He'd been watching this for a while, and knew that Marik passed through this very alley each day, at this time. The bike came to a halt about ten feet in front of him.
"You're in my way." Marik growled, pulling his helmet off and dismounting, approaching the male who blocked the passage.
"You have something I want, Marik."
"The Millennium Rod? Is that what you're after? And how do you know my name?"
"Yes, the Rod is my goal. Tomb robbers know these things."
"You can have the Rod, but I need your help in getting something myself."
"Perhaps there is a way we can work together." Bakura agreed. A bright, fiery blue aura became visible around him. A purple aura, quite like Bakura's, made an appearance around Marik as well. A tendril of the flame stretched across from both boys, meeting in the middle with a flash. This was one of the most sincere ways of swearing trust.
"This is going to take some discussion." Marik commented after the aura's faded away.
"I'm sure." Marik straddled the seat of his motorcycle, while Bakura perched on the back wheel.
"What is it you're after?" Bakura wanted to know; choosing to ignore the odd look Marik gave him when he saw the white-haired boy's choice of seating.
"The three Egyptian God Cards. I have one in my possession as of now. Yugi holds Slifer the Sky Dragon, and Kaiba wields Obelisk the Tormentor. I need to get those cards."
"How do you propose getting them?"
"I'm entered in the Battle City Finals. What I need to do is get closer to Yugi and his foolish friends."
"And the point of doing this is…what?"
"My most trusted servant is taking my name and copies of both my Rod and the God Card I have: The Winged Dragon of Ra. I want them to believe me to be a friend, so that they don't anticipate the cards I have, the God Card in particular."
"I think I know how you can do that." Bakura already had a perfect plan in mind.
"HOW?"
"The quickest way to gain the trust of Yugi and his friends is to help one of them in some way. The best way to do that would be to 'find' one of them when he or she was hurt and unable to get help on their own."
"And how am I supposed to get a hold of one of them without them seeing me or my followers? If they know that there's Millennium magic behind the trouble, they'll be wary."
"You've got one right here."
"What?"
"My host body, Ryou, is close friends with Yugi and his pals. And I know just what to do as well."
"I'm liking this. Go on." Bakura grinned when he saw the eager light glowing in Marik's eyes. This teenager shared his love of the wrong and the dark.
"If we combine the powers of our two items with an incantation I know, we can give a cut the effect it would have if it was left to go bad and get infected for several weeks."
"Sounds good to me. Lets get to it."
"I've got a knife with me." Bakura volunteered, pulling the knife from the waist sheath that he hid beneath his shirt.
"I've got one too. I'll bet the magic will hold better if the cut is made by one of the items. My Rod has a dagger in the handle."
"Show it." Marik nodded and slid a long, lethal looking blade from the base of the Rod. From the tip to the base, it was nearly twelve inches long, meaning it resided within almost the entire length of the Rod itself. The blade was strong, the same metal as the rest of the items, completely indestructible. It was slim enough to slip between a pair of ribs, but thick enough to inflict fatal injuries if needed. Bakura grinned; he hadn't seen such a blade since his time in Egypt.
"That will serve most admirably. Here, cut away." He pushed up the sleeve over the upper part of his right arm, baring the skin to the blade.
"Here goes." Bakura saw the flash of light on metal, then felt the knife pierce his skin.
"Well done." He commented, giving the cut a quick inspection. It was just over six inches long, clean enough to have been inflicted by a knife, but ragged enough both to cause infection and to have been done by an inexperienced gangster. "Now, for the magic" Marik nodded, holding out the Rod. Bakura took it and placed the head of the Rod at the center of his Ring. "Hold that there." Marik obeyed. After carefully positioning the middle point of his Ring over the cut, Bakura began a soft Egyptian chant. A sickly green glow emanated from the Items, then flowed onto the wound. Bakura gritted his teeth against a scream of pain. The process hurt more then anything he'd ever felt. After several minutes, the light faded, and a powerful force pushed the Items apart. Bakura staggered, both from the slight drain the incantation had put on him, and the effect it had on the injury. The cut was now clearly infected. Without warning, Bakura's stomach twisted, and he doubled over in pain. Marik, concerned for his partner, moved closer.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"I think I'm going to be sick." Bakura squeaked. Marik was thankful that he was behind the Tomb Robber when he did just that, for two reasons: One, Bakura couldn't be sick on him. Two, he could support the boy and keep his hair out of the way. When he'd finished, Bakura straightened shakily and wiped his mouth. Marik, sensing that it was safe to release his companion, got a water bottle out of his bag and gave it to Bakura. The teen rinsed his mouth and handed the bottle back.
"Thanks." He mumbled.
"No problem. How are you feeling?"
"Seasick. And I have a major headache." Marik winced.
"Well, lets go."
"Wait. We can't get away with this just yet." Bakura collected some dirt in his hands and streaked both his skin and clothing with it, then spread his arms, standing with his feet about shoulder-width apart. "Hit me." He instructed.
"Huh?"
"I said, hit me."
"Why?"
"Because. If I don't look beaten, we won't get away with this. Just no face shots, no groin hits, and nothing to my stomach. I really don't want to be sick again." Marik hesitated. Bakura looked bad enough as it was, pale and sickly. Bakura realized that his companion wasn't going to do it willingly, and came up with a new idea. "Hit me, you spoiled, coddled excuse for an Egyptian brat!" Marik's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. Bakura grinned. When all else failed, insulting your opponent's home nation always worked. Marik roared angrily and charged. It took all Bakura had to keep from falling over, due to the furious barrage of punches the young man delivered. "All right, that's good. I'm sorry I insulted you, but it was the only way to make you do what I wanted."
"I understand. Whoa!" Marik leaped backward as Bakura retched, then bent double, clutching his stomach, and was violently sick again. Marik sighed, and carefully held the smaller male up until he was finished. "Are you sure this is a good idea? If you puke out on the street, someone will haul you to a hospital before we get to Yugi and his friends." Marik cautioned. Bakura gave him the finger as he accepted the water bottle again.
"Even if it happens again, there isn't anything left in my stomach, so it'll just be dry heaves. Don't worry so much. What are you worrying about anyway?" Bakura eyed the tanned blonde. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you looked scared. And…of what are you afraid? Certainly not me?" Marik swallowed and shifted nervously.
"Not of you, but for you."
"Come again?"
"I'm not scared of you, I'm scared for you."
"What do you mean?"
"Well…um...I…well...j-j-just…what we did to your arm…what it did to your body…maybe…it could…er…be more…serious then we…um…then we think. I-I-I-I mean…y'know…the way it's…um…a-a-affecting you. M-m-m-m-maybe we should…should…should…um…take you to a… to a…"
"To a what?"
"A hospital." Marik mumbled, and regretted it immediately.
"Take me to a hospital! Are you crazy?" Bakura shrieked.
"N-n-no. Why would that be a bad thing?" Bakura sighed, knowing he would now have to explain.
"I'd have to relinquish my hold on Ryou until after he was well again. No doubt his father would be contacted, and he would instinctively know that I was not his son. If I gave control of this body back to Ryou while in the hospital, he would panic. He has a mortal terror of hospitals, and only enters them when it is absolutely necessary. He would probably get rid of me in the process as well."
"Oh."
"Oh is right. Now, are we going to find Yugi's friends or not?"
"Yeah, just let me wrap that cut first. If someone sees it, we're back to square one." Grudgingly, Bakura submitted to having his arm wrapped in a rough cloth bandage. "Okay, done. Can you walk on your own, or do you need help?"
"I can walk on my own." Bakura growled. He took a wobbly step toward the street, and nearly fell. In fact, he would've, had Marik not caught him at the last minute. "Ow. Fast movements are not a good idea." The thief moaned, putting a hand to his head.
"Lean on my shoulder. I'm sure it won't do permanent damage to your reputation if you allow me to help you for a short while."
"Fine." Bakura grumbled. Marik bent and pulled Bakura's arm over his own shoulder.
"Let's go." He said, to cheerily for Bakura's liking.
"Oh joy."
15 minutes later "I have to release Ryou now. We're to close for me to be in control." Bakura warned.
"Okay." A nearly unnoticeable flash of light later, Bakura's face had morphed into the gentle, innocent features of Ryou.
"Uuuhhnn" he groaned.
"What? Are you all right?" Marik asked.
"I don't feel well." Ryou whimpered. It seemed that he had a lower tolerance for pain then his dark side did.
"How bad do you feel?" Marik questioned. Mentally, he slapped himself. He sounded like a woman! Still, he felt rather guilty for what he and Bakura had done. Ryou's response was a miserable moan. "Are you going to throw up?" he asked urgently.
"I-I-I think so." Ryou mumbled. Marik shot toward the closest alley, hauling Ryou along with him. Just in time too. Almost as soon as they were out of sight in the alley, Ryou doubled over and vomited for the third time that afternoon. Marik sighed and pulled the water bottle from one of the pockets in his loose cargo pants.
"Here." Ryou nodded his thanks and rinsed his mouth.
"Who are you? What happened to me?" He asked, fear prominent in his voice.
"I'm a friend. I guess you got beat up, judging by your appearance. Someone cut your arm, and it got infected."
"Where are you taking me?"
"To find someone who knows you. They'll be able to take better care of you than I can." Ryou nodded, and leaned his full weight on Marik, who headed back toward the street. End Flashback
"Hey! Bakura!" the low rumble of a motorcycle grew nearer. Bakura turned and quickly closed his eyes to the bright light from the headlights. Mercifully, the lights dimmed, and a figure dressed in helmet and raincoat dismounted and approached him. Despite his current mood, Bakura couldn't help but smile. He knew that walk anywhere, just as he knew the bike, and the approaching person. "Isn't it a bit cold to be out here?"
"Really Marik. It's just a gentle rain, warm even. Nothing to worry about."
"You really have been out here a while. Check out the weather now." Bakura suddenly became aware of the change in weather. The rain was cold, driven down and sideways by an icy wind. He sneezed and swore. The chilly air was aggravating the cold that he was just getting over. Or, hethought ruefully, that I was getting over. "Ryou called me and told me to find you. You can stay at my place tonight."
"I really couldn't inconvenience- ACHOO!" he said, but was interrupted by another sneeze.
"You're gonna catch your death out here. Come now, just get on the bike. I insist." Bakura sighed and raised his hands in mock defeat, then headed for the bike.
"Well? I'm waiting." He said, straddling the back of the bike and staring at his friend. Marik grinned and came over, hopping up to sit in front of Bakura.
"No riding without your hands, do you hear me? Put your arms around my waist and don't let go." Normally, the former tomb robber would've protested, but, seeing as he was cold and wet, just sneezed and obeyed. "Good boy." Marik said, laughing when Bakura tried to say something, no doubt something rude, and sneezed instead. The blonde kicked the motor into life, and they roared away. After a moment of thought, Bakura decided that he could probably get something out of this, other than another cold. He sneezed again and leaned on Marik's back. He grew quite comfortable quickly, and was rather sorry when they came to a halt in front of the Ishtar residence. "C'mon 'Kura. Lets get inside. I'm frozen." Bakura stumbled as he dismounted, and Marik had to catch him.
"Thanks." He said, and leaned on the taller male's shoulder, eyes half closed, enjoying the closeness.
"Ishizu! I'm home! And I've got Bakura with me!" Ishizu came into the hall, saw the two standing there, and enveloped them both in a tight hug. Bakura sneezed, and she released them.
"You're both soaked! Get upstairs and shower. Go on, shoo!"
"We're shooing!" Marik said, dragging Bakura toward the stairs, shedding helmet and raincoat on the way. "We don't need a pushy girl telling us what to do." Ishizu tried to hit him. He dodged, and hauled Bakura up the stairs, both of them laughing.
"I'll get you later little brother!" Marik didn't hear, as he was already in his bedroom.
"Here. You can use these pajamas. They should fit, since I'm not that much bigger then you."
"Mmhm." Bakura mumbled, taking the clothes and chuckling at the pattern, silver stars and moons on a navy blue background. "Didn't I give these to you?"
"Yep. They're my favorites." Bakura grinned, and followed Marik down the hall to the bathroom. Marik got the hot water going while Bakura collected towels. When he returned, both boys stripped and got into the shower, a big custom-made thing with a sort of bench along one side, which was where the shampoo and soap sat. "You want to go first?" Marik asked, picking up a bottle of shampoo.
"Sure. Why not?" Bakura responded, taking the bottle. "Turn around." Marik obeyed, turning his back on the tomb robber. Happy to spend time with his lover, Bakura began shampooing Marik's hair. He'd finished, and Marik was halfway through doing his hair when the door opened, someone yelped, and the door slammed shut again.
"What was that?" Marik asked. Bakura shrugged, and they resumed their activities.
Downstairs Ishizu heard the slammed door upstairs and counted down from ten. As she reached zero, Malik skidded into the kitchen, looking absolutely appalled. "Are you alright Malik?" she asked, trying hard not to laugh. "Is something wrong?" The boy nodded.
"Did you know that Marik and Bakura are in the shower?"
"Yes."
"Together?"
"I wasn't sure, but I assumed so."
"Why didn't anyone warn me that my hikari has a boyfriend? I really didn't need to see that."
"Don't worry about it. Maybe now you'll knock before entering."
"Haha. Very funny sis."
Later "Marik! Are you out of the shower yet?" Ishizu called.
"Yes!" Ishizu headed upstairs, and entered her younger brother's room. Marik was just finishing combing Bakura's hair, and it was clear, from the unusual sleekness of Marik's hair, that Bakura had already done the same for him. "Hi sis. Did you need something?"
"Just making sure you were getting to bed. Did you even know that Malik walked in on you two?"
"He did?" Marik and Bakura said together.
"Yup. He asked why nobody told him that his hikari had a boyfriend. Don't worry, he's not going to reject you."
"Serves him right. He should learn to knock." Marik commented. Bakura sneezed in agreement.
"Okay you two. Bed. Now." Marik stuck his tongue out at his older sister, tried to duck the playful punch she threw at him, and received an equally playful poke in the ribs.
"Hey!" he squeaked, turning and looking and Bakura, who grinned sheepishly. Marik dived at him, and Ishizu grabbed his ankle, pulling him to the other side of the bed.
"What did I just say?"
"Sorry. 'Night 'shizu."
"G'night Ishizu. Thanks for letting me spend the night."
"Good night." Ishizu pulled the blankets over the two figures already curled up together in the middle of the bed and placed a sisterly kiss on both of their foreheads. She then turned the light off and left, closing the door behind her.
"Good night love." Marik whispered in Bakura's ear. Bakura sneezed and responded
"Sweet dreams." He rolled over and shared a long, open-mouth kiss with Marik. Both were asleep quickly.
Next morning "Marik! Bakura! Time to get up!" the Egyptian boys both groaned and pulled their pillows over their faces, trying to ignore Ishizu's voice and get a few extra minutes of sleep. "I'm warning you. If I don't hear some movement, I'll send Malik and Odion up there!"
"We'd better get up." Marik commented. "Odion knows some very creative, very unpleasant ways of getting me up."
"Like what?" Bakura asked, sitting up."
"Have you ever been thrown into the harbor before the sun's up?"
"I'm up!" Marik grinned at the exuberant call his lover voiced, and pulled Bakura into his lap.
"So. How's your cold this morning?" he asked, nuzzling Bakura's left ear affectionately.
"Gone. I feel perfectly fine." Bakura laughed when Marik sneezed. "It seems, however, that you caught it from me."
"I'll get you for this. Just you wait."
"Oh? Why do I have to wait? You're usually so quick with revenge." Bakura commented, pulling on a pair of Marik's jeans and tossing a second pair at the blonde.
"Once Ishizu finds out that I'm sick, she'll keep me in the house 'till I'm well again." Marik grumbled, putting the pants on and tossing a T-shirt at Bakura, then getting one for himself.
"Well, I guess I'll have to keep you company." Bakura said.
"Maybe being sick won't be quite so bad." Marik jumped up, poked Bakura in the ribs, and raced out the bedroom door.
Maybe having my own body again won't be so bad after all. Bakura thought, running after Marik.
END