Ok, so this is my first Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction :). I hope you guys like it, and I'm sorry if some things from the canon don't add up! Here in Australia, they didn't show us past Bakura/Yami Marik's duel in Battle City so I have no idea about what happened after the Pharaoh defeated Yami Marik. If I've got anything wrong, please review and tell me!

Have fun reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

If anything now, Marik Ishtar's life had been reduced to boring routine. Endless cycles of actions and thoughts, with no excitement, no spontaneity, no purpose. Once, he dreamed of enacting his revenge on the Pharaoh – thought up evil plans, took part in dangerous shadow duels, put his life on the line, got his body taken over by his even more evil alter ego... life was exciting. Now, it was a mind-numbing bore.

Some days, Marik thought that this boring life was good. He was not about to die or get his soul thrown into the Shadow Realm. He would not be brutally thrown from his seat of power in his soul room by Yami Marik. He would not lose control of his body, he would not commit murders, he would not get into trouble with the authorities. Marik liked to plan things ahead – surely, then, routine would suit him nicely? Where every day of his life was set out and planned, he thought this was what he wanted. Sometimes he longed for it – while trapped inside Bakura's head in that final Battle City duel, all he wanted was to be able to control his life, to defeat life at its own crazy game.

Now, he realised that he didn't want this at all.

What Marik wanted? He had no idea.

He sighed. There was no point thinking about things he couldn't change. Right now, he was stuck in Japan, with Ishizu and Odion, stuck in school until the end of this year.

It was night, and time for Marik's before-bed routine. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror and slowly took off all his jewellery. First, the earrings, then the necklace, arm bands, bracelets. They glimmered under the halogen lights and clinked together as he put them away in the second drawer down. He took a towel, wet it in cold water, and washed his face, rubbing his eyes until all of the eyeliner came off. He drank a glass of water, then filled it up again and put it on his bedside, in case he was thirsty during the night. (Inevitably, he would wake at exactly 3:42 am and take two big gulps, fall back to sleep, then finish the rest off in the morning). Then, he took off his shirt and changed into his white silk boxers, of which he had 7 – one for each day of the week. He shut the window and locked it. Finally, he climbed into bed, pulled the covers over himself.

Ten minutes later he was fast asleep.

x.x.x

Marik woke with a start. Oh, did he mention that nightmares were part of his routine too? Every single bloody night, the same one, over and over again.

He was struggling through a dark, thorny maze. The sky overhead was almost black with clouds. A loud cackling in the distance, then it came closer, closer, closer, until someone was laughing with menace right in his ear and he could feel their hot breath; Marik spun around and it was his alter ego, laughing at him, towering over him, haphazard hair spiked in every which direction. Marik screamed...

And woke in a cold sweat. The time on the digital clock beside him was predictable – 3:42 am. He took two big gulps, shook himself out of the dream, and curled up again. Usually he was able to get back to sleep easily. Tonight, however, he tossed and turned. Something was not quite right.

Nonsense, he thought, dismissing his ill-at-ease feelings. The nightmare had shaken him – that was all. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes.

Still, he couldn't get to sleep. Marik's brow furrowed. What was wrong...?

Involuntarily, he shivered. There it was! He was cold. Why, though... he didn't know. He pulled the blankets tighter around him, and willed himself to sleep. Of course it didn't work.

Marik tried counting sheep. He got to about 200 before it was too much. He screamed into the pillow, curled his fists and turned over viciously. A few seconds later he threw the blankets violently from him and stormed into the bathroom.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and scowled. He turned the tap on, cupped some water in his hands, and threw it over his face. He dried his face, shivered a little in the cold, and marched back to bed.

Then he saw it.

The window was open, the sheer white curtain flapping slightly in the breeze... no wonder he was cold! The nights in Japan were chilly, far from the humid, sticky nights of Egypt. He walked over to the window and closed it, content.

As he locked it, he was hit with a wave of panic. Hadn't he closed and locked the window before he had gone to sleep?

'Honestly, Marik, for a supposed evil mastermind you are incredibly slow on the uptake,' a familiar raspy voice drawled. Marik froze, a shiver running down his spine. He knew that voice...

From the shadows emerged a figure with a mass of silvery white hair, with strong shadows carved across his face and gold jewellery glinting at his chest.

Marik took a step back.

'Bakura...' he whispered.

'Oh, so you remember me now. Good,' said Bakura, smiling.

Marik took a moment to take everything in. Bakura was the same as ever... yet slightly different. He still wore the Millennium Ring – obviously. The same blue and white striped t-shirt – it was so simple, Marik would never wear something like that – yet it suited Bakura for some reason. A dark blue shirt above it, unbuttoned, worn with dashing nonchalance. Same deathly white skin, same piercing brown eyes. There were slight changes – last time they had met, Bakura and Marik had been about the same height and build – tall and slender. Now, Bakura had grown more than a couple of inches and filled out. Marik saw the curved muscles in Bakura's forearms, and how his shirt didn't drape as easily as before, stuck slightly on – were those abs? Marik gulped. Bakura had definitely put on some muscle. Marik was faintly jealous.

'What do you want?' Marik asked defensively. His last encounter with the spirit had been under the heat of a Shadow Duel, and they... well, they hadn't fought, but they hadn't left on good terms.

'Can't a friend come to visit his friend once in a while?' Bakura asked teasingly.

'You're not my friend,' Marik spat.

'Come on, now you're acting like one of Yugi's minions. I suppose you're rooting for the good side now? You're not friends with big, bad, Bakura.'

'No, especially not when you break into my bedroom in the middle of the night!' said Marik passionately.

'It was hardly a break in,' said Bakura. 'I mean, the bloody window could have been unlocked by a child.'

'How did you get here?' Marik asked, changing the subject. He was embarrassed that his security had been so lax.

'Well, I walked down your street, found your house, climbed up the wall, unlocked the window...'

'No, I mean, how did you get here? Didn't you get sent to the Shadow Realm?'

'Well that's an interesting story. There I was, living in the darkness – quite enjoying it, mind you – and suddenly I'm jolted back to earth. I looked around me – it was some sort of tent in the desert. My host? Some foolish archaeologist, I suppose, with the Millennium Ring around his neck. Of course I took the chance. He was far too useless to do anything as a host, so I sucked the life out of him, and using that, brought back into creation my original body.'

'Oh,' said Mark simply. 'So why are you here again?'

'For you, of course,' said Bakura, smirking.

'W-What does that mean?' Marik asked. He slapped himself internally. Had he just stuttered? That was incredibly un-evil-mastermind-like.

'Well...' started Bakura. He took a few steps toward Marik, Marik took a few steps backward. 'You see...' Marik stepped back again, but found himself backed up against the wall. 'I had a choice to make. In the end, it was a toss-up between you and Kaiba. Seto's smart, hell knows he's smarter than you, but you know, he also has that annoying little kid brother...'

'W-What are you talking about?' There was that stutter again. Bakura took a few more steps forward, Marik could feel his heart starting to pump faster and faster.

'I needed some help, let's just say.'

'Big bastard like you, needing help?' Marik teased.

Bakura was so close now, that Marik could feel his breath. He flattened himself up against the wall. Bakura was definitely taller than him now – half a head, almost. Bakura looked down at Marik with playful brown eyes. He was enjoying this.

'Now now,' chastised Bakura, 'that wasn't very nice.' He looked threatening. Marik could feel the cold metal of the Millennium Ring against his bare chest.

Marik scowled up at Bakura.

'What help?' he asked.

'You really are stupid,' said Bakura. 'Don't you understand? If an archaeologist had retrieved the Millennium Ring, that means the Pharoah's tomb has been opened again. Which means, the rest of the Millennium items are up for the taking.'

Marik's head was spinning. Bakura was not dead – he was here now, in his room. And now he wanted Marik to help him steal the Millennium items? Marik thought his life of crime was over!

'No,' said Marik, trying to be assertive. 'I won't help you.'

'Why ever not?' Bakura asked sweetly.

'I'm done! I'm over that! I left that all behind,' said Marik passionately.

'You can't leave your past behind,' Bakura said.

'Yeah well, I did,' argued Marik. 'And I'm not going to help you. No way. Sorry.'

'Who said you had a choice?' Bakura asked evilly.

Before Marik could react, Bakura grabbed his neck and lifted him up, then slammed him against the wall. Marik's heart began to race. He should have seen this coming. He struggled and tried to pry Bakura's fingers away from his neck, but did not succeed.

'Let – me – go!' Marik gasped.

'No, I don't think I will,' said Bakura calmly.

Marik's mind began to swim, purple blotches appeared in his vision.

'Now, listen to me,' said Bakura slowly. Marik tried to scream but all that came out was a raspy exhalation.

'Help!' Marik whispered weakly.

'Oh, fine, I suppose you can't help me if you're dead,' said Bakura, irritated. He let go of Marik and turned away in disgust. Marik collapsed against the wall, and breathed in and out quickly. He rubbed his neck, and felt bruises forming.

'Now, then...'

Bakura was interrupted by a fist making contact with his stomach. Marik had just punched him.

Marik felt a twang of pain in his knuckles – yes, Bakura now had abs. Ouch.

Taken by surprise, Bakura was knocked back. Marik tried to take advantage of this and ducked around him, but Bakura grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back.

'Where do you think you're going, huh?' Bakura asked, flicking out his knife and holding it to Marik's neck. The blade made Marik shiver, and he could feel the Millennium Ring at his back, digging into his scars. He let out a gasp of pain as Bakura nicked his neck with the tip of the blade. Blood began to seep out of the wound.

'Honestly, Marik, I'm beginning to think I should've gone with Seto instead,' drawled Bakura. 'I mean, I thought you'd be all up for it. You used to be an evil little mastermind, nothing compared to me of course, but you had potential. Your alter ego, whoa! He was a thousand times better than you. Unfortunately he's gone now... Anyway, you're quite disappointing. I thought you'd at least be able to put up a decent fight.'

'Fuck you,' Marik hissed. He struggled a little, but Bakura was too strong.

'Feisty,' said Bakura, chuckling. 'Now...' He released Marik and looked him in the eye. Marik wiped the blood from his neck, looking haggard.

Marik went in for one last blow – aiming for Bakura's jaw. Bakura caught his wrist as fast as lightning, twisted it behind Marik's back, and slammed him up against the wall. Marik turned to one side so that he wouldn't break his nose on the wall.

'Stop fucking around,' said Bakura menacingly. He twisted Marik's arm upwards. Marik yelped with pain, Bakura just smiled.

'Let me go,' breathed Marik desperately.

'What, so you can try to punch me again?' asked Bakura. 'I've had enough of your games for one night.' With his free hand Bakura took out some rope from his pocket, and tied Marik's wrists tightly together. He took out his knife again, and pressed it against Marik's neck.

'This time I won't hesitate about slitting your throat,' said Bakura. 'Now sit down,' he ordered harshly. Bakura, with his free hand, dragged over a chair. Marik sat down slowly. Bakura yanked Marik's arms around the back of the chair. He took his knife away and stepped around the other side.

He sat face to face on Marik's lap, holding him down with his weight, and used some more rope to tie Marik to the back of the chair. Satisfied that he was secure, Bakura stepped away.

'I hate you,' said Marik angrily. He struggled slightly, but there was no give in the ropes at all.

'I'm sure,' said Bakura, bored. 'I didn't know you'd be so desperate to fight back. Lucky I came prepared, hm?'

'You dickhead,' said Marik.

'So I realise that it's going to take a little bit more to convince you...' Bakura said. 'Alright then.' Bakura stepped over to the corner of the room, where a small bag lay. He unzipped it, taking out a small electronic item with a red LED display screen and multiple coiled wires.

'What's that?' asked Marik.

'Honestly, sometimes I wonder where your stupidity ends,' said Bakura, sighing. 'It's a bomb.'

Marik gulped. Was Bakura going to blow the whole place up?

'Oh, don't worry, I won't set it off, so long as you do exactly what I say. Well, Marik, don't you love modern technology? I have a remote for it, so that I can set it off at any time I wish. Of course, I wouldn't want to hurt your dear Odion and Ishizu, but if you don't obey me, I will be forced to. Do you understand? Now I'm going to hide it somewhere in your house. One wrong move, Marik, and I will blow this whole bloody place up. See you soon!' Bakura took the bomb and walked quietly out of Marik's bedroom.

Marik started to panic. The entire thing had gone to hell. He was well and truly screwed, now. Bakura had complete control over him, and he was just a plaything. Marik was angry at himself and angry at Bakura. He struggled violently against the ropes, but to no avail.

'Now, now, don't get into any trouble, or there might be an explosion,' said Bakura, shutting the door quietly behind him as he returned.

'Why do you need me?' Marik asked.

'I don't need you, per se, but stealing all the items again would be a hell of a lot easier with two people,' said Bakura. 'I'll explain anyway. One, I need a scapegoat to blame it on in case the whole thing gets fucked up – I don't wish to be spending any time in jail. Two, various plans I have in mind won't work with one person. Finally, every hero needs a sidekick, right?' Bakura laughed.

'You're sick,' said Marik.

'I would call it brilliant, but sure, I can be sick if you want me to be,' said Bakura, stepping a little closer and pressing his knife to Marik's neck. Marik's Adam's apple bobbed furiously as he gulped. Secretly, Marik was terrified, but he didn't want Bakura to know.

'Leave me alone,' spat Marik, trying to be brave.

'No,' said Bakura. 'Now, we'll be flying off to Egypt in about a weeks' time... problem is we need some money.'

'I don't have any money!' Marik protested.

'Neither do I,' said Bakura, laughing. 'The ticket's a couple of thousand bucks, though, so we're going to have to get the money together quick smart before they close the excavation site. I'll steal my share, you get yours.'

'How the hell am I going to get a couple of thousand bucks in one week?' Marik asked angrily.

'I don't know, you tell me. If you don't have it... boom.' Bakura's eyes twinkled with glee.

'No, I can't do it!' Marik said desperately.

'Oh fine, you little baby,' said Bakura. 'I'll come up with a heist that we can both pull off, for the money.'

'What the hell am I going to tell Odion and Ishizu?' asked Marik.

'Use your imagination, Marik,' said Bakura. 'Write them a note, saying that you had to run away, or that there's a school trip to Australia, or something like that.'

'Fine,' said Marik, defeated. He would have to give in to this madman if he wanted to keep Odion and Ishizu safe. 'Anything else?'

'Not really,' said Bakura. 'I guess I'll untie you, but I'll be seeing you again tomorrow.'

Bakura cut the ropes with his knife, and Marik shook them off and stood up. Bakura collected the ropes off the floor, and stuffed them into his bag.

'Now, behave yourself, Marik,' warned Bakura. 'And remember...'

Bakura took a step towards Marik and cupped Marik's chin in his hand. Marik shivered with terror, or something else.

'I'm the one in charge here.'

Swiftly, Bakura was out the window and gone. Marik stood still for a moment, shell shocked. Then he punched the wall with his fists in frustration. He was in deep trouble, now. Bakura had come and turned his entire routine life upside down.

...Was that necessarily a bad thing? Is this what Marik wanted, what he ached for in the long days of repetition?

Marik didn't know.

x.x.x

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