Author Notes: I originally planned on having some kind of violent angry dom/sub knifeplay scene for Goldshipping, but I couldn't get into it, so... this happened. Yeah. I'm sorry it's so short. As always, please review to give me your opinions and your criticisms, and if there's a Marik shipping you want me to add to this collection, let me know in a review or PM!


Hot... so hot...

Marik's small, young body burned with fever as it struggled to reject the poison. The amount flowing through him was almost enough to kill. He'd be dead by now if it weren't for Odion.

A dry rag smoothed over his forehead, collecting the sweat that seeped from his skin. A moment later, the dry rag was replaced with a cool, damp cloth that was left in place. The child whined in the back of his throat as he started pushing away the blanket that covered him. Eyes closed, he kicked away the fabric that made him feel even hotter than he already did. When he'd finished thrashing and curled up on his side to consolidate heat against the chill of the fresh air, the blanket was carefully pulled up over his body again, the wet cloth put back on his forehead after being knocked off by his restlessness.

"Odion..." His whimpered cry was feeble and scarcely audible. Ishizu looked down at her brother in pity. What could she say? If she told Marik that their father was currently punishing Odion for letting Marik get bitten in the first place, it would only upset him further.

"You're going to be alright, Marik," she whispered instead, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she sat by his bed with perfect posture.

"You're going to be alright."

Marik didn't recognizee deep male voice that rumbled reassuringly at him, and, in his half-conscious state, the strange sound was enough to make him open his eyes. In his feverish haze, all he could make out was the blurry shape of shining golden man dressed like a pharaoh. The man's violet eyes gazed at the sick child with regret and pity. He reached out one ghostly hand to take a stray hair and move it out of Marik's eyes.

"You're going to be alright," he repeated in a whisper. "In the end, at least."

"Can you promise that?" Marik asked in the faintest of whispers as he stared at his mysterious visitor.

The visitor with spiked, red-tipped, black hair smiled sadly and said no more before dissipating in a shimmer of mist.

"Marik? Did you say something?" Ishizu asked, looking up from the scroll she was studying.

"Hmmm…" Marik lilac eyes closed again as he shivered and hugged the blanket under his chin, and was then taken by the heat of his fever again.

When Marik recovered and discovered how his closest friend had been punished so wretchedly by his father, he became quite angry. Hadn't he heard a promise that everything would be alright? Why would someone make that promise to him when it was nothing but a lie? He began to hate his father and the pharaoh and whoever had promised him peace at the end of his illness. He wanted freedom, and he was ready to do anything to get his hands on it.