Author's Note: I'm a horrible liar. I'm a terrible, awful person, and I give you permission to stone me.
Marik stared out the window of the plane, taking in the clouds, and squinting against the bright sun. Next to him, Isis was resting her head on his shoulder.
They were going home.
After six years of trying to escape, he was going back to accept his fate as a Tomb Keeper. The Pharaoh's last battle was coming and he was going to be there to see off the person whose tomb his family had sworn to protect.
Marik had apologized for the trouble and hurt he had caused. He was ready to return. He was happy to go home.
A/N: The end. Blargh. News - I will attempt to continue these drabbles, but my other stories are going to be on hiatus until summer. Thank you for understanding!