And now, the heartstopping conclusion of 90210- I mean, what? Yep, OOCness, little bit, coming attchya. DEAL WITH IT.

Bakura had been lying stiffly in bed for almost 20 minutes. He was staring up at the ceiling, doubt clouding his thoughts. Marik had been gone for a long time… The spirit wasn't sure it should take this long, but also thought perhaps Marik was coping in private. He wrestled with the idea of getting up and checking on him, unsure of the state in which he'd find the Egyptian, not wanting to upset him further. He tried to trace patterns in the ceiling to distract himself, to stop the memories of the past hour from replaying. But they wouldn't, and no matter how intricate the pattern in the ceiling, it couldn't dull him.

Finally, he could take it no more. The Thief King got up, pulling his jeans back on. If Marik was in tears or throwing things in anger, it didn't matter; he'd be there, he'd take the tumble with him. He crossed the living room/kitchen, and approached the bathroom hesitantly, skirting Marik's damp clothes from earlier. Utilizing his briefly returned skills from his past life, he pressed his ear to the door silently, listening for crying, panting or anything to warn him. When nothing reached him, he took the handle gently in his hand, and tried to turn it. He was slightly perplexed when the knob didn't yield to him, clicking in refusal.

"Marik?" Bakura tried gently.

"… Marik, please open the door… Let me in," he asked softly. He pressed his ear to the door again, waiting for the rustling of fabric, for the padding of feet over tile. Again, he was met with silence.

He's been gone for twenty minutes, his mind reminded him. Twenty minutes to wash his face?... Twenty minutes of a break down maybe?...

Bakura felt his senses spike again. No. No, this wasn't right.

"Marik. Open the door. Come on, I know you're in here. Please open the door," the spirit commanded, now becoming uneasy to the point of panic. He pulled on the door handle harder, willing it to open.

Silence.

"MARIK!" Bakura yelled, banging on the wood. He paused, holding his breath to listen for a response. Once more, there was nothing but the background hum of their heater kicking on.

"MARIK! MARIK! OPEN THE DOOR!" Bakura yelled, tripping out of his frozen position. He yanked at the door handle, yelling in frustration and desperation. His adrenaline flooded him for the second time that day, and he back away from the door, bracing himself against the nearest wall. He kicked the door once, with bone shattering force. The wood around the knob shattered, but didn't give. With another shout and kick from the spirit, the door flew back, banging against the wall.

Bakura's breath was heaving in his chest as he stumbled forward, looking for Marik. He was so high up in his adrenaline fueled surge that at first, he didn't register that the blonde was lying on the floor. His wide eyes finally fell upon him, and all breathing stopped.

He swooped into the bathroom, falling to his knees beside Marik, grabbing his shoulders. He groaned in anguish as Marik's head lolled back, unresponsive.

"Marik- oh, fuck, Marik, what did you do!? Wake up, WAKE UP!" Bakura screamed into his face, shaking him. The blonde didn't move, but a small stunted moan came up from his throat. Bakura was in blind panic, whipping around to look for what could've caused this. His sharp eyes swept the counter, and he saw the sleeping aids bottle, uncapped. It looked back at the spirit with the audacity of a kamikaze, label turned right toward him.

"Oh, no. No- no," Bakura said, heart slamming away inside his ribs. He turned back to the unconscious boy in his arms, and shook his violently again.

"MARIK!" he screamed. The man didn't move.

Bakura slipped into a solid haze, shifting into a rationalist gear that he usually employed when attending class. He pulled Marik up, and slumped him against the front lip of the bath tub. He lifted Marik's head and forced his mouth open. He shoved his middle finger as far back into the blondes throat as he could, almost touching the back. All that happened was a choking noise, but nothing more.

A horribly vile thought slashed through Bakura's mind as he tried to push his fingers in farther; Marik didn't HAVE a gag reflex…Because of Bakura.

"Oh- no- no no no," the spirit denied.

Because of his own wants, because of his selfish desires, the only person he ever loved was going to die. Because of his rampant sexual appetite, Marik wasn't going to be able to return the pills he took, and Bakura would be holding a dead man in less than ten minutes. The very concept of Marik being dead was unimaginable, beyond inconceivable and spoke to the deepest corner of Bakura's fears.

"Marik, you better not go- I'll fucking chase you down if you do- WAKE UP, COME ON MARIK, STAY WITH ME!" he yelled, pulling his fingers out. He reached for the counter, feeling for anything longer then his finger. He found his tooth brush, and pulled it to himself. With as much delicacy as could be afforded, he pushed the handle down Marik's throat, at least assured by Marik's slow breathing. He made the toothbrush jab the back of the blondes throat, looking down into his mouth as he held his head back.

"Come on Marik," Bakura begged, not knowing that tears were beginning to well in his own eyes.

Suddenly, the Egyptian made a disgusting choking noise, and he tried to fold over on himself. Bakura withdrew the tooth brush, not letting it go. He pulled Marik up as the man heaved again, resting him over the bathtub. Bakura pulled the Egyptians hair back, keeping it away from his mouth as he threw up the deadly overdose. Marik sucked in deep breath after deep breath, retching horrendously as he expelled his stomachs contents. Bakura rested his face against Marik's back, waiting for it to end. Finally, Marik's retching turned into a coughing fit, and the spirit at his back let go of his hair, and looked him in the face. The blonde was still panting, eyes closed, but a tiny bit more cognoscente. He moaned in pain, forehead dropping to rest on the edge of the shower. Bakura held him tightly, tucking Marik's head under his chin. He glanced down into the basin of the shower, and shivered with revulsion and horror. His boyfriend obviously hadn't eaten much that day, because there was nothing in there but a thin yellow bile, dotted with bright blue pills. Fifteen of them…

"Marik, stay with me," the spirit begged quietly, beginning to rock back and forth slowly. Marik didn't respond, but coughed again. Bakura clung to him, burying his face in the blondes hair.

"Please Marik, don't go. Don't you dare leave me here- I'll do anything for you, anything at all, but I won't let you die, I won't let you leave me. Please Marik, I-I-" he began. He wanted to say it, had to say it- he didn't care if it made his throat bleed, but fuck everything, he would tell him. He didn't understand why, but the corners of his eyes were hot; he was crying. He just never did it, so his mind had a hard time registering the foreign sensation.

"I love you Marik. I- fuck- I-I love you so much-" the spirit confessed, pulling Marik tighter into his chest, pushing up on his knees to hold him better.

"I've never loved anyone, ever- and never the way I love you. Don't you fucking leave me now. I can't do anything without you anymore, you fucking son of a bitch, don't you fucking leave me, I love you, can you hear me? Marik, come back-- I love you-" Bakura said, errant tears streaking his cheeks and making his heart squeeze through its unsteady beating.

"Don't you fucking leave me," he begged into the blondes ear-

"Don't you dare…"

He continued to sway with the Marik in his lap, silently letting millennia's worth of locked up love spill out of him. He breathed evenly into his lovers neck, willingly away desperation and hopelessness, refusing to let it get the better of them.

"Please come back, Marik, I-I swear to God, I love you…" Bakura moaned, muscles aching from holding up the Egyptian. He refused to let go however, picking suffering over the alternative; nothingness.

From beneath his grasp, Marik made a small sound. Just a little groan, just a tiny indication he was alive. Bakura froze, cemented into place.

"Marik?" he whispered, hope lighting up his features and voice.

The boy in question answered with a breathy moan, stirring for the first time in the spirits arms.

"Marik!?" Bakura asked feverishly again, pulling him away and holding his shoulders, to peer into his face. The tomb keeper sighed deeply, and lifted his head just a fraction, not completely in control of his motor functions yet. He slumped a bit to the side, and when his eyes opened, they were unfocused and bleary. He tried to make another sound, perhaps talk, but nothing understandable came out. He shifted his gaze and met Bakura's, still seemingly confused. His brows knitted together, and he opened his mouth, this time words forming.

"Bakura?..." he rasped.

The spirit nodded vigorously, waiting expectantly, ready to leap up and get anything the blonde should ask for. Then Marik didn't say anything, instead looking around slowly, dazedly.

"W-why are we in the bathroom?..." he asked quietly, settling his eyes back onto the whitenette. He was still too deep inside of his fog to notice the tears wetting his cheeks. Bakura's throat closed, and it clicked when he tried to speak.

"You… you don't remember?" he braved, painfully bright images of the past ten minutes flashing in his mind.

"Not really… I-I remember…" the blonde started, his eyes and features suddenly animating.

"I remember you saving me…" he got out, before swollen tears began to form in his eyes. Bakura's heart tore at the sight.

"You don't remember—taking pills?" Bakura pressed, trying to keep his pain to himself. Marik stared, wide eyed.

"Pills? W-what?" he asked. Then he looked around again, a bit more thoroughly. He caught sight of the bright blue pellets in the bottom of the tub, and his already wide eyes shot open more. The tears spilt over the edges freely, and his hand flew up to his mouth. He turned back to Bakura, still kneeling before him. He could remember very little, but just enough got through to horrify him.

"Oh G-God Bakura, I- I didn't mean it, oh my God, I didn't- I was just so- they were going to rape me a-a-and, if you hadn't come- I'm just so usless—I d-d-didn't mean it!" the blonde began, shaking his head fervently before bursting into tears. He threw himself into Bakura's arms, sobbing. The man caught him, wrapping him up firmly, shushing him while he continued to fight his own tears. Here it was, the emotions that should've been there from the start, the release that would help them both recover. Marik just needed to overdose to get to it.

"Hush Marik… it's ok, I've got you… I got you…" the spirit said, stroking Marik's hair while again rocking them.

"Oh Bakura, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean it. I was just trying to- I-I— You saved me, oh God, twice, Bakura, Bakura…" the blonde moaned into the man's chest. The spirit held him firm, and for several minutes Marik cried against him, shaking.

"You tried to leave me Marik… but I couldn't let you do that. Not now, not anymore. Not when I love you this much," Bakura whispered gently, knowing he'd just said it, aloud, and Marik wasn't dying of too many sleep aids this time. Marik sniffed hard, and pulled himself away, eyes wide and accusatory. He stared hard at the whitenette, swiping away tears with the back of his hand without looking.

"What did you say?" he asked, trying to sound put together. It wasn't working so well- his eyes were blood shot and the front of his shirt was wet with salty tears. Bakura didn't flinch under the look, and instead took Marik's face between his hands. He drew out a purposeful silence, before saying,

"I love you, Marik Ishtar, and have for some time. I love you more then I know how to say, more then there are languages to say it in. Nothing you try to tell me will change my mind, and I will not let you go. I am here for you, because of you, and you should know why- I love you," he ended simply, leveling his dark eyes with violet ones.

Marik sniffed again, not moving or responding. He was trying to absorb it all, the insanity of the entire day, and to now cope with this stunningly wonderful confession. Slowly, he crumbled, and broke down completely again. He pushed himself back into Bakura's arms, hugging him harder then he knew was comfortable. He didn't care- he wanted to feel it, to feel alive and good again. He wasn't useless; Bakura had just told him that. He was loved; Bakura had just told him that. He had a future to look forward to; Bakura had just told him that. It hurt in such a lovely way that for a long minute, the blonde was content to just be held, silently crying, the sobs forcing his body to convulse every now and then. The spirit anchored him in place, allowing him to get it out.

"I love you too," he managed in a hoarse whisper after some time.

"I know you do," Bakura smiled.

"So much, Bakura. So fucking much," the blonde whimpered, letting his body relax, pulling back. He met Bakura's eyes and smiled back weakly, feeling much more whole then before. He started a bit when he noticed the trail of tears on the spirits face. Reaching out, he touched them unbelievingly, gingerly tracing them down.

"Y-you're crying…" he stated, dumbfounded. Bakura also looked surprised, touching his own face. He looked down at his damp finger tips. Then he smiled, breaking into a low laugh.

"You made me do it," he said, looking back to him. Marik shook his head.

"I'm sorry Bakura-" he began. But the spirit hushed him with a finger over his lips.

"Don't,"

Marik nodded understandingly. He then tried to push himself up, but sunk back to the floor, utterly spent from everything. He sighed, his hands in his lap.

"I guess I'll be sleeping here…" he mused, glancing at Bakura. The spirit snorted gently.

"I've got you," he assured. He stood, somewhat shaky himself, and then reached out for Marik. The blonde accepted his arms and gasped as he was pulled upward. He was dizzy beyond belief, aching and sore in every bone and muscle. He held onto Bakura for a minute, regaining his equilibrium before attempting to walk on his own. Thankfully, Bakura didn't leave his side, helping him get the sink. Marik braced himself once again on the sink counter, feeling the déjà vu hit him. He shuddered at the sight of the uncapped pills beside him. Bakura caught the movement and brushed the bottle into his hand, throwing them away. Marik gave him his most apologetic look before turning the faucets on.

"I'm really washing my face this time… I promise," he tried lamely, his normally sarcastic self trying to take over again. Bakura growled beside him.

"I'm coming with you if you ever tell me that again," the spirit assured evenly. Marik smiled as he filled his cupped hands with cold water. After several splashes, he washed the stinging taste of vomit out of mouth. The sought out his mouthwash by feel, and mumbled thanks when he felt Bakura hand it to him. He swigged back a tiny amount, and after a few burning seconds spit it out. As he swallowed, he realized his throat hurt, quiet badly. He rubbed it as he turned to find a towel. Again, Bakura handed it to him.

"Why does my throat hurt?..." he asked quietly, face dried. Bakura stared, lip quirking; he didn't want to answer.

"I had to force a tooth brush down it to make you throw up," he answered, expression pained. Marik rang the towel in his hands.

"Bakura- honestly… it was just too much-" he looked up at the spirit, tears threatening but finding their supply mostly exhausted- "between those men… you don't understand… when they grabbed me, I-I felt like I was THERE again… like it was happening all over. It was too much… I don't know Bakura, I just- don't know what happened. I think I died a little…-"

Bakura was watching him, face still pained.

"You had a waking night terror," he said, articulating exactly what Marik was thinking. The man nodded.

"Yes… if you hadn't come, Bakura… if you hadn't-" he started.

Bakura closed the distance between them, again hugging Marik tightly.

"They didn't. And it's over now, Marik. I've got you, I'm here," he said, ending the conversation. Marik was content to be assured, although he could feel future tears welling over this. He shook it off, concentrating instead on the present.

"I've heard you say you love me, seen you cry and come back from the dead, all in one night. I couldn't possibly love you more, Bakura…. Thank you," he said through a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. Bakura drew back. He looked Marik over tenderly, brushing back his bangs delicately with one hand.

"You better not try that again either," the spirit said lowly, eyes locking onto Marik's.

"I was out of my head Bakura… And not that I've ever doubted you… but now that I know… I couldn't. You are my everything… honest," the blonde affirmed, taking Bakura's hand into his. Before the white haired man could answer, he pulled himself up with the last bit of his waning strength and kissed him. Bakura answered by opening his mouth, mingling their tongues briefly.

"Come to bed," the spirit commanded after they pulled apart, noting the slight shakes in Marik's hand. The other nodded silently, smiling.

Once they were wrapped up safely in bed, front to back, Marik could breathe easy again. He didn't feel hollow or unattached; he felt right and whole. He was ashamed of what he had done, but the overwhelming confession that had sprung from the situation almost made it pale into the background. Bakura, also relaxing into sleep, felt similarly, although he was proud that he'd finally said it, to have meant it so resoundingly.

"I love you Marik," he said, trying out the taste of the words again. Marik pushed back against the spirit more.

"I love you too…" he whispered.

Silence.

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to say it…"

"I'm not. I told you I would wait"

"I'm lucky you're so patient"

"If you want to look at it that way"

A quiet minute passed.

"Marik-"

"Hm?..."

"Don't you ever try to leave me again"

Marik's heart fluttered.

"Never. Promise…"

Note: Moral of story: keep a toothbrush on hand in case your boy friend with no gag reflex tries to commit suicide by taking too many sleeping pills. 8DD

Alrighty! Hope you liked- lemme know what you think. And again, no flames. It's childish and I really have no time for it. Go kick a kindergardener if you really need to make yourself feel better then everyone else. Anyway-- super love love, till next time.