Yeah. I had to. Don't hate me for my references.

I do not own Yu-gi-oh or Portal or their creators. I just own me.

-Rin Reiko

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It's not that I was confused, or afraid. He'd done this several other times before; I'd just hoped he was getting better. Walking into our apartment, I could see he'd turned off all the lights save for the kitchen one. Or maybe that was because it was the only one he'd turned on all day…

"Bakura?..." I ventured, flipping on the living room lights. I almost jumped when I found him suddenly sitting on the couch, looking straight at me. Just like he had on the first day we met. I put a hand over my heart with a small laugh. "Oh man!... You scared me!..."

He narrowed his eyes. "Not enough, apparently."

My fake laugh died. "Bakura, come on. We've been over this."

"Give me the rod."

"I don't have it. There's no such thing as-"

A hand was on my throat, pressing me back against the apartment wall. My own hands clawed at the familiar one, grip tightening as I tried to loosen it. Dammit, I hate when he gets like this! "Ba… kura…" I choked.

"You LIED to me!" He growled near my face, his own features twisting into a version of hate and disgust. "You said you had it. I want it."

"Ba..kura…. I never… have it…" I defended, as best as I could. "Every time…. you do this…. I never have it…." I gasped. "Doesn't exist!..."

"Yes it DOES!" he assured me forcefully, closing my throat even more. "I already have the ring, Pegasus has the eye, and you have the rod! Now give it to me!"

I couldn't speak even if I tried. Shit. I'd have to hurt him.

"AGH!" he cried, dropping my throat as I kneed his groin, much to my chagrin. I generally like that area of him. I gasped air back into my lungs and distanced myself from him, going into the kitchen. His determined stumbling could be heard from down the hall. This is not what I needed right now.

Grabbing a knife and the phone, I made my usual move of defending myself as he appeared in the kitchen doorway, limping and eyes trained on me. My throat was still raw and bruised, making it hard to speak with confidence.

"Bakura…" I choked out, swallowing to become clearer. "C'mon… stop this. We all know how it ends…" Those flashing eyes never calmed though, still blaming me. He knew my next move, and wasn't at all pleased with it.

"You call them and I kill you." was all he offered.

"Fine. I won't call them." I set the phone down gingerly on the counter to prove my point. "But you have to calm down. I can't deal with you like this, and I don't want it to escalate."

"It wouldn't if you'd just give me the rod!" he snarled, frustrated with this charade as much as I was. God, if I even knew what the hell the rod was, I would have shoved it up his ass a long time ago. But as it was, we have to go through this dance about once every five months. I opened my mouth to speak my next line.

"There is no rod!" I repeated, opening my arms for emphasis, knife still in hand. "Bakura, snap out of it! This isn't you!"

"Oh, and what IS me?" he challenged, moving in closer and mocking me. "Is it that damn 'Ryou' I became with the Clinic's help? Huh? Is the real me only accessible with the aid of pills and a straightjacket, or is this me?" He motioned to himself with outspread arms. "Is the real me what you fools would call a psychopath? Ha! You wouldn't know a real psychopath if he came right up and tore your lung out!"

He was nose-to-nose with me now, backing me up against the kitchen wall. Why I hadn't used the knife, I'll never know. "But I think …" he continued, voice low and subtle, breathing into my soul through his eyes. "I think the real me won't become clear until I possess all the millennium items. And I think you're too scared to give me them… to find out just who the hell I really am." He stroked under my chin with a pensive smirk. "You wouldn't like that, huh Marik? To know who your lover actually is, or isn't? You don't want anything to disrupt your sweet little romance, even if that something is me…."

I gulped. In a way, he was right. More than I was in love with him, I was in love with being in love with him. As much as he tore me down and wore me out, and as much as he was a clinically diagnosed sociopath, he was my lover. And while living without him would be significantly easier, there would be no point to it.

But there would be no point if he killed me either.

"Bakura…." I breathed, looking back into his brown eyes with my own light violet ones. "I know who you are. And you don't need pills or a rod to achieve it. Believe me, if I had a millennium rod… or ring… or stick or whatever… I would give it to you in a heartbeat. But they don't exist, Bakura. They don't exist…"

I could see his eyes wavering, his mind working over why I kept saying that. He frowned, and I knew he wanted to believe me, but couldn't understand how. I dropped the knife and reached up to stroke his face, my eyes still pleading with his. The fact that he'd even wanted to understand touched me, and I knew I had to make him see.

With the touch, he stiffened in defense, just absorbing it. Trailing my fingers up to the start of his ear, he began to relax into it, determining it was safe. Slowly I noticed his eyes dull from that frantic energy to the state of stability that they usually maintained. My hand cupped the side of his face and stroked his temple with my thumb, soothing his skittish mood back to calm with an easy rhythm, bringing him back to reality.

As far as I know, I'm the only one who can do this.

Eventually, his breathing evened out and his gaze lowered from mine. His own hand cupped over mine and held it there for a moment. "…. They don't exist," was all he murmured, but I knew it meant thank you.

I nodded and gave him a kiss, both my hands framing his face. He fell into it with gentle passion, his hands holding my waist to him in a possessive grip. Making up was always my favorite part of any craziness we went through, and he was as good at ending it as he was at starting it. My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer and threading my fingers through the loose strands of his white hair. A short moan came from him as he opened my mouth for his tongue to enter, pressing me up more against the wall. It's strange, the places in this house we choose to make love in. I remember we did it once in the small closet under the stairs, the vacuum cleaner digging into my back the whole time.

But every time we do it, I feel safer than I ever have with anyone else.

Which is strange, considering he's the only one who ever puts me in any danger.