Okay, here we are with chapter eight! And I really have nothing else to say than read and enjoy!
Disclamer!: I still do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!
Marik's heart thudded heavily in his chest as he ran up the stairs. Thoughts ceaselessly ran through his head just as fast, and with just as much power and intensity. What had he done with Bakura? Why had he done it, and what did it mean? Was he gay now because he had... done... that with Bakura? And Malik... What could he say to Malik now? How could he explain? Could he even explain? And would Malik listen? He hadn't been very willing when he first saw...
He reached the door to his twin's room and he stopped with his hand on the knob. He hesitated, and then twisted it open. He expected to encounter some kind of resistance, but the door slid open soundlessly and allowed Marik entrance.
He immediately spotted Malik standing by his bed. His back was toward him. Marik took a few steps toward him and stretched out a tentative arm to tap him on his shoulder. When he did so Malik spun around abruptly, startling Marik and causing his heart to skip a beat.
"Marik," Malik greeted. His face was contorted into a terrifying ear-to-ear grin. The same crazy, scary look he'd seen on his face that day in his room, but worse now. His dark purple eyes had a gleam to them that Marik didn't like one bit. He took a step backwards. His heart was beating crazily now, and he was again beginning to feel afraid of his brother.
With a speed almost as inhuman as Bakura's, Malik pinned him against the wall. Marik stifled a small gasp of surprise and reflexively looked for the door. His hand was at best only a foot away from the knob. But unless he could break away from Malik it wouldn't matter. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and reined in his fear and got his rapidly beating heart under control. Then he opened them and glared fiercely at his twin brother.
"Put me down Malik," He commanded. Malik only laughed and shook his head slowly.
"But it's no fun if I do that," He said eerily. Instead of putting him down Malik lifted him up higher by his shirt. Marik's feet rose off the floor until only his toes could touch.
"Why don't you stop saying such ridiculous things and tell me what the hell you were doing with your dear friend Bakura," Malik growled, expression changing now from the giddy grin to one of raging fury. His eyes constricted to steely black orbs and electricity seemed to flow from his tense body into the air surrounding them.
"Anything I was doing with him is of no concern to you," Marik said sternly, never letting his eyes leave his brother's. He could practically feel the electricity pricking at his skin and the tension and anger in the air was palpable, but he didn't break eye contact. The last time Malik had acted like this he had given in to his fear and his racing heart and things hadn't turned out very well in the end. He had lost that fight, and if Isis and Bakura hadn't interrupted the two of them he didn't have a single doubt that things would have ended much worse. This time he couldn't let Malik have his way because Bakura was gone and Isis was cleaning. If he screwed up he wouldn't have a savior this time.
Malik slammed his against the wall. "Actually Marik, yes it is. What you do with that slime is of concern to me because you and I are one and the same. You are my other half and I won't let him take you away," He snarled viciously.
"You're crazy! We aren't the same person Malik! We're only twins, and I can damn well do whatever the hell I want!" Marik swore vehemently. Malik's eyes widened, and then shrunk back to their tiny, beady state.
"'Crazy?' I'm not the one fucking some guy on our living room couch!" Malik exploded, and slammed him up against the wall again. Marik stifled a grunt of pain, and before he could retaliate his brother was talking again.
"Back then, that one called me crazy too. And you know what I did to him. Do you wish to have the same fate, little Marik?" Malik cooed derisively, tone and expression changing once again from rage to insanity. And once again, through he tried not for it to show, Marik grew afraid. Oh, he knew what Malik had done all right. He himself had participated in it as well. And it wasn't what they had done that scared Marik, but how Malik could change moods so suddenly, and how could he go from saying that they were both one and how he wouldn't let Bakura take him away to that so quickly, that scared Marik. And when Malik's grin stretched further Marik knew that once again Malik knew that he was afraid. And he thrived off that.
"Do you imagine that I'd actually allow you to do that to me?" Marik retorted. His voice was still strong and steady and that was good, if not for the fact that he imagined his brother could smell the fear coming off him.
"But you aren't in a position to allow anything, are you?" Malik asked, completely calm. And then he abruptly placed Marik back on the ground, then placed a hand around his neck.
"Malik! What are you doing? Let go of me this instant!" Marik demanded. But Malik was no longer in a talking mood, and he blankly stared ahead and began to tighten his grip. Marik's hands immediately grabbed at Malik's and clawed at him to make him let go. He kicked at his brother's legs but it had no effect. Slowly, Marik's windpipe began to close up and he was unable to breathe.
"Malik! Let go!" He coughed. Malik tightened his grip and looked on with steely dark purple eyes. His mouth was drawn into a tight-lipped scowl. Marik tried to kick him again and clawed at him more. Black started to eat away from his vision and any air that might have reached his desperate lungs was cut off completely. He could hear choking noises that he recognized as coming from himself, but they sounded far away. His struggles weakened and the black ate at his sight as the seconds ticked by and Malik did not release him.
He was going to die, he realized belatedly. His lungs were on fire and he was choking, but Malik wasn't letting go. He was going to die at the hands of his own twin.
Warning signs flashed all throughout Marik's head, telling him that he needed oxygen. His lungs were screaming and his windpipe was being crushed. Black was everywhere and unconsciousness beckoned him, ready and waiting to take him away and then lead him to his death. His noises stopped, as did his struggles. And then, mercifully, the iron grip was gone and air was rushing into his searing lungs and he could breathe again.
Marik felt himself fall to the floor and then he was in the air again and the colors of the world were whisking around him like he was in a high-speed blender. He could hear voices but they were far off and incomprehensible. He clung tightly to whatever had taken him and closed his eyes to block out the sickening colors. He concentrated not on the voices or what was going on but on breathing. The oxygen flowing into his lungs was the sweetest substance ever. He took the air in through his mouth and the searing pain of it going past his sore windpipes kept him conscious.
He went into what he thought was a state of semi-consciousness. He could still vaguely hear the voices but could not understand them. He could feel himself be placed on something soft and comfortable and thought that he might want to sleep here. Marik wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but the searing pain faded to a persistent throbbing ache, and although he could still not understand the words he heard, they were clear and no longer far away.
"Move out of the way. I think he's waking up..."
He was waking up, whether he wanted to or not. The protective semi-consciousness that had settled around him like a veil lifted. Marik opened his eyes and the world hit him so hard it actually hurt. Colors were no longer spinning but they were too bright. He blinked and half-shielded his eyes with an unsteady hand until they became normal, and then he looked up to see Isis and Rishid hovering above him protectively. He was in his room, lying on his bed.
He tried to talk but only managed to cough. Rishid wordlessly handed him a glass of water, which he drank greedily, then tried again.
"Rishid, Isis, what's going on?" He croaked. It hurt to speak and he instantly started coughing again and had to take another drink. Isis and Rishid exchanged worried looks, and then faced him again.
"We were hoping you could tell us that Marik. We heard banging and when we came into the room... Malik was choking you," Isis said worriedly. Marik was deathly silent. The reason Malik had released him was because Isis and Rishid had come into the room. If they hadn't... would Malik really have killed him? That look... and the gleam in his eye... Was it possible? Would his own twin really have done such a thing? And now, what could he tell his other siblings? He couldn't tell them the truth. But...
"I noticed that Malik had been acting strange during dinner. So when Bakura had left I went up to his room to talk to him. And he..." Marik said, lowering his head as he trailed off. Guilt set upon him instantly. It was his fault that Malik was like this. His fault... because of what he'd done with Bakura... And now he was lying about it. Now Malik's actions would seem even worse than they already were. He was selling his brother out just so he wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable. Malik...
"I have to go see Malik. I have to talk to him," Marik said, hoarse voice overflowing with guilt and shame. He shot up from his bed but before could get anywhere Rishid had restrained him.
"No Marik. You're staying here. I think it's best if you stay away from your brother for a while," Rishid said softly, but sternly.
"Rishid is right Marik. I want you to stay here and sleep for now. We will find out what is wrong with Malik, and then maybe you can talk to him. But for now you must sleep," Isis soothed.
"No!" Marik yelled, and almost went into another coughing fit. "I have to talk to Malik! You can't stop me from doing that! And what do you mean 'maybe' I can talk to him? What are you going to do, watch me so I'm not alone with him?"
"If that's what needs to happen, then yes, I will watch over the two of you," Isis said.
"Marik, try to understand. Malik choked you. He could have killed you. We can't let you be alone with him again," Rishid tried to explain. Marik broke away from Rishid's grasp and looked at both him and Isis with shock.
"How can you say that? You're talking about him as if he were dangerous!" Marik yelled, his conscience telling him the whole time that he had thought his brother was dangerous too and fueling the guilt even more.
"I don't want to! But look at what he's done Marik!" Isis shouted, exasperated.
"I've done the same things, remember? He's no more dangerous than I am!" Marik argued back. Isis got a familiar far-away look to her pretty face, the same look she got whenever someone mentioned this certain subject. But instead of lingering the look went away quickly and was replaced with stern determination.
"I don't care Marik. You weren't the one choking him, were you? You will stay here and you will sleep. You will not try to go see Marik, and if you do then I will personally sit outside of your door all night and make sure you don't go anywhere," Isis said sternly, completely calm now. She left his room before he could even think of a rebuttal. Rishid left quickly and silently as well, most likely having wanted to get out before Marik could start on him too. When both were gone Marik slumped bonelessly into his bed.
His throat ached and he took another drink of water. The cool liquid sated the pain but did nothing to ease him of the guilt that had wormed its way into his heart. That ran around his head like a rat on speed, biting him wherever it could. He hated feeling guilty and wanted to get rid of that feeling, but he couldn't do anything about it. He had seen the look in Isis's eyes. He knew that she mean business. And even if she hadn't, what would Malik so if he went to see him again? What would Malik do, and what would he do? How would he be able to explain what had happened? He couldn't. He knew that. So what could he do?
00000
When Marik woke up in the morning his throat was covered in ugly black bruises. He stared at them in the mirror, unable to comprehend that they were a result of his twin brother choking him. He didn't think of much else because he still could not truly believe that it had happened. He did though still feel the guilt of knowing that it was all his fault. And that guilt danced joyously in his head, making itself known in a persistent, sing-songy voice. When he could stand looking at them no longer he put on a high-collared shirt and grabbed his things for school.
The moment Isis caught sight of him as he descended the stairs she told him to march back up them and rest. He told her that he felt fine and he was going to school. He didn't show her the bruises. In the end Isis gave in and told him he could go, but she was going to drive him there. Neither said it, but they both knew it was a precaution taken to assure that nothing would happen on the bus. So Isis took Marik to school, and until he arrived in his first class he saw neither hide nor hair of his brother.
His eyes zoomed in on Malik's spiky head of hair when he took his first step into the classroom. Marik's heart pounded in his chest and the guilt-rat in his head snapped its terrible maw down on him. His twin was facing away from him and had not noticed his arrival. Marik wondered what he would do when he did notice. He longed to go to Malik and talk to him, but he didn't know how the other would act. The last thing he desired was for a fight to break out and be the cause of even more trouble for his brother. So instead of sitting down next to Malik, he took a seat by Bakura.
Bakura looked at him silently, inspecting him. Then one pale hand shot toward his neck and briefly yanked down his collar. Marik recoiled away from the touch and covered the collar and his bruised neck with his own hand.
"What is that?" Bakura hissed ferociously. His eyes, though still a composed brown, were narrow.
"None of your business, that's what," Marik retorted hotly. Bakura leaned closer to him to prevent other people from hearing their conversation.
"Did he do that to you?" Bakura asked, motioning his head in Malik's general direction. Marik didn't say anything to him. Bakura slammed his fist on the table and growled.
"Psychotic bastard!" He roared. Malik looked over at them and for the first time noticed Marik was there too. He turned slowly away and Bakura growled again and actually made to get out of his seat. Marik reacted quickly and grabbed him, then forced him to sit back down in his seat.
"No! It's your fault anyways! If you hadn't done anything then he never would have gotten so angry in the first place!" Marik yelled. Bakura looked bewildered, like he couldn't believe that he was the one being yelled at.
"Oh, it's my fault that your brother is crazy enough to choke you, is it? Well I'm so very sorry then," Bakura sarcastically spat. Like deja vu, for a brief second Marik thought he saw the vampire's eyes flash bloody red. Then the flash was gone and there was only hard brown and Bakura was continuing. "And for something that was all my fault, you seemed to be enjoying it immensely." That comment took the fire from Marik's anger and his shoulders sagged. He had enjoyed it. But the guilt was weighing down on him and suffocating him, and he needed to remove at least some of it from his shoulders.
"You're still the one who started it!" He said a little desperately.
"Yes, but even if I hadn't I'm sure he would have gotten angry about something else and done the same thing. That's just the kind of person he is, isn't it? You know it just as well as I do, but maybe you don't want to say it," Bakura hissed quietly. And suddenly his manner changed and he straightened in his seat and looked away from Marik. Almost as an afterthought he added, "Anyways, if that's all perfectly okay with you then why should I care?" Marik stared blankly at the side of his white head, at a loss for words and strangely enough, feeling guiltier now than before.
Part of it was his fault, he knew this well, but Bakura also had to share some of the blame, right? If he hadn't... done that... then Malik wouldn't have seen them when he walked into the room. He wouldn't have gotten so angry. Things wouldn't be tense and strange between them. That was right, he knew it. But... was Bakura right also? Would Malik have gotten angry because of some other reason and still done the same thing? Actually have choked him?
"...Bakura?" Marik said softly. If the other had heard him then he showed no sign of it.
"Did you... actually care? That he did this?" Marik asked, looking away now. For some reason he couldn't look at his companion anymore.
"Why should I? You don't seem to," Bakura said, and that was it. He didn't say anything else and Marik didn't ask anything more. Instead he continued looking at the blackboard, and ignored the uncomfortable feeling in his chest.
The teacher came into the room soon enough and began the day's lesson. That didn't help nearly as much as Marik would have hoped. He was barely able to pay attention to the lesson, and instead found himself exchanging glances at Malik and Bakura. Now he had both of them mad at him, and he didn't know what to do in either case. Things would be so much simpler if he could just somehow get the two of them to become friends, but that might be an even harder task to accomplish. Over time his eyes strayed to the tense form of his brother and stayed there.
He needed to concentrate on fixing things with Malik. Bakura was just some guy who was more trouble than he was worth, but Malik was his twin brother. He had to talk to him. And with Malik he was at least sure of what the problem was. Bakura was a mystery that could be solved once his life had become a little less hectic. The Malik problem needed to be solved now. And school was probably the best chance he would get without Isis or Rishid around.
When the bell that heralded the end of the class rang Marik sprung from his seat like a tightly wound coil and raced after Malik. He caught him right outside of the door.
"Malik wait! I need to talk to you!" He called out. Malik ignored his completely and strode away at a brisk pace. Marik sprinted to catch up to him and positioned himself directly in from of his brother. He scrutinized the face so similar to his own and found not even a shred of emotion in his eyes. Malik just looked bored, and even that was a stretch.
"Malik..." He said, trailing off, unsure of what more to say. And apparently Malik didn't care at all, because he swerved slightly to the right and walked away, leaving behind a deflated Marik. He was still just standing there when Bakura approached him. Marik knew instantly that he had witnessed the entire spectacle and would not doubt be here to yell some more.
"Look, I really don't want to hear anything you have to say, alright?" He said wearily. Bakura sneered slightly, then seemed to come to some internal conclusion and the sneer smoothed into a nonchalant line.
"I don't care remember? So you can do whatever you'd like and not have to worry about me at all. I just wanted to know if maybe you wanted a ride home instead of having to sit on that wretched bus since you can't ride your motorcycle," Bakura commented. Marik blinked.
"Sure, he said slowly, at first not really processing what Bakura said.
"Okay. Wait for me outside of the school at end of the day. I have some things to do first, then I'll get you," Bakura said. And before Marik could say anything in response he was gone, and for the second time in so-many minutes he was left standing confused and conflicted in the middle of the hallway. He gathered himself together and headed for his next class.
Throughout the day Marik caught glimpses of his brother in the places where the two of them would usually meet up. He didn't try to talk to him again or get his attention. Malik obviously wanted to avoid him, and so he would let him. Maybe some time apart would help take the edge off his anger. At least he hoped that it would. He really needed to explain everything to Malik, but if the other continued to act like this he didn't know how he would be expected to conquer this feat.
Marik spent his classes trying to not think about Malik, but such a task proved to be quite difficult, especially when halfway through the day the bruises on his neck began throbbing painfully. The pain made it even harder to pay attention to his schoolwork, and he had to stop himself several times from fussing with the collar of his shirt, lest someone see the bruises as Bakura had and wonder how he'd acquired them. He couldn't have been happier when the last bell of the day rang its sweet sound through the halls.
He put away his extra books at his locker and slowly walked through the halls, enjoying the fact that he didn't have to worry about running to catch his bus. Today he could try to relax, although given that Bakura was taking him home, he wasn't sure how true that statement could be. Six hundred and twelve years should have been enough for the vampire to master most forms of transportation, but Marik wasn't betting on anything where Bakura was involved.
"Hi Marik!" An annoyingly sweet voice broke Marik from his thoughts and brought him to the form of Yuugi Motou, standing all alone in front of him with a big smile permanently carved into his chipper face. For a moment Marik almost smiled, thinking what a lovely coincidence this was for Malik and him, and then he remembered and his smile fell flat. Oh. Right. He and Malik weren't exactly on speaking terms now were they?
"Hi," He muttered, briefly wondering why this kid was unable to understand that they were not friends and that he did not want to talk to him.
"Is something wrong? You've been down for the past few days," Yuugi said. Marik thought back a few days, and for the most part Yuugi was right. First he'd been troubled by what to do about Bakura, and now he had to deal with the problem of Malik.
"I did something to piss off my brother and now he won't talk to me," Marik explained shortly, not quite sure himself why he was bothering to answer the small, multi-colored haired youth when he easily could have left.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Have you apologized to him for what you did?" Yuugi asked.
"How am I supposed to do that when he won't listen to me long enough to hear it?" Marik asked sarcastically. Yuugi looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled softly.
"Well he's your brother right? He's got to listen to you eventually. Just give him some time Marik," Yuugi advised. Marik didn't say anything. He'd thought the same thing too, hadn't he? Maybe Yuugi was right too. Maybe giving Malik some time would help.
"Hey umm, do you need a ride home Marik? The buses have all left already, and Otogi lost a bet so today Jounouchi gets to drive his car! I'm sure no one would mind it we took you home. Maybe you could even hang out with us," The short kid suggested. Marik surprised him by laughing.
"Sorry, but I'll have to decline that offer. I'm already getting a ride from Bakura, and from the accounts I've heard of what Jou's driving is like, I'm not sure I'd want to risk it," He laughed.
"That's probably a good thing," Yuugi agreed, "Jou's driving can be hazardous to your health. Well, see you tomorrow Marik! Hopefully you and Malik will settle your differences soon!" He waved and then Yuugi and all his pointy-haired glory were headed down the hall. Marik smiled to himself, shook his head slightly, wondering when he'd gotten to be so nice, then continued in the opposite direction to where Bakura said he'd be waiting.
He didn't see Bakura out there, but he had expected that. After all, Bakura had said that he would be a while. Marik passed some people on his way to wait by the side of the school, probably waiting for someone like he was. Most students had run out the door to their bus or car the moment the bell rang, but some were still meandering along outside of the school. Most of them left fairly soon, and from then on the trickle of students began to decrease until Marik was only waiting with another student. They stood silently together for some time, each half-watching the other with disinterest, and then Marik's companion left when his ride arrived and he was all alone.
"If I find out this is some sort of joke I'll kick his ass," Marik murmured. He began to walk away from the building and pain suddenly exploded at the back of his head. He fell hard to the ground and heard someone remark, "Told you this wasn't over" before he blacked out.
00000
"This is stupid," Bakura said to himself. "Why in the world did I offer to give him a ride?" He sneered like he had just smelled something disgusting. Seconds later his face smoothed over and a look of what could be considered sheepish embarrassment possessed his sharp features. "Ryou will get his kicks out of this. By now he'll have already realized it, I'm sure."
He has finished talking to his Algebra 2 teacher (even after so many years of school he had still never quite gotten the hang of this one concept) and now he was leaving to find Marik. He wished he didn't have to. This morning Ryou had caught him taking the car to school and had immediately been suspicious. The two of them hardly ever used the car, mainly because of the fear of an accident. Not that they were worried about any potential harm, but that it was hugely difficult to explain to a doctor why your body was technically dead but yet you continued to live, as the two of them had unfortunately discovered.
Why Bakura had even decided to offer the ride was unknown to him, especially after what had happened this morning. It wasn't because he "liked" Marik. The only thing he "liked" about Marik was his god-like body, and maybe he thought the kid was funny. No, Marik was nothing more than a piece of particularly tasty piece of eye-candy. He was certain of that much anyways. But Ryou, Ryou was where the problem came in. Ryou was hell-bent on him falling in love with the exotic looking Egyptian teen, and Ryou would take his offer completely out of context and turn it into something twisted and sickeningly sweet. He was certain on that too. So he really did not understand why, with all that trouble, he would still decide to take Marik home. Why he was acting so strange about it was also a question he would like answered.
He reached the outside of the school and to his frustration saw no sign of the teen on his mind around.
"Oh great. Now I can't even find him," Bakura growled to himself. Now he was really thinking that he shouldn't have bothered. Instead of flat out leaving like he wanted to, Bakura walked around the building, thinking that maybe Marik might have just gone somewhere else to wait.
He rounded a corner of the building and a scent slammed into him so powerfully he took a step backwards. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent deeply, grinned when he recognized it. Fresh blood. Human blood. The unquenchable thirst inside him brought his primal instinct to feed roaring to life and without a second's hesitation he followed the trail of breadcrumbs laid out so nicely before him.
Every step he took brought the smell closer and weakened his defenses against the urge to drink. When he drew nearer to the source of the enticing smell he could see the figure from which it was escaping lying prone on the hard floor. He approached it cautiously and stealthily in the fashion of a predator, as if expecting any moment his prey would bolt if he were too eager in his pursuit. He didn't notice until he was only a few feet away from the figure that it was the same person he'd been looking for. Marik was the person lying on the ground in front of him, unconscious and bleeding, and the very moment he truly noticed this Bakura's predatory instinct to hunt and feed fell flat.
He ran the rest of the way to Marik's body and fell to his knees in front of him. Marik was bleeding from a wound at the side of his head, and the platinum hair there was matted and sticky with the crimson liquid. Bakura leaned in closer to get a better look at the wound and how serious it was, but the moment the smell hit him the hunger that had temporarily subsided flared back up again at full force and demanded that he feed from the offering placed before him.
He tried to resist the urge, he really did. He told himself that Marik was injured and needed help, but his thirst was too great for him to control. His mouth watered and his fangs lowered as he remembered the exquisite taste of the human's coveted exotic blood. A phantom trace of the flavor, enhanced by the maddening scent filling his nostrils completely overtook Bakura's rational mind and clouded over his judgment. His hunger spoke to him and told him that nothing else mattered but to feed, so he bent slowly over Marik's still form and licked at his bloodied ear.
The liquid tasted just as good now as it had back when he first sampled it, even more so now. Warmth rushed into his long-dead body and reanimated all of his instincts and desires. He felt like he wanted to scream to the world and show everyone how alive he felt, how wonderful it was to again almost hear the beating of a heart that had lied dormant for so many cold centuries. His lips quivered with excitement, for if just a few meager licks of blood could do this to him, could stoke the hot fires of his life in his body, then what would more do?
He readied his fangs to find the answer to that delectable question when just as last time the image of his brother flashed before him. Bakura withdrew sharply, fangs once again withdrawing into his gum line, hunger begging him to take just one drink even as an intense wave of repulsion hit him like a tidal wave. He jumped to his feet and faster than even he thought was possible he had jumped onto the wall of the school building. His fingers sunk into the crevices between the bricks and he quickly scaled up the side of the building until he reached the top.
He could see Marik lying on the ground, still bleeding, and he shuddered, then took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed the number Marik had given to him for his house. He heard the phone ring and soon someone picked it up.
"What?" A voice drawled. For a moment Bakura blinked. The voice on the phone was so similar to Marik's that for a split second he forgot that the aforementioned teen was still unconscious on the ground. He hadn't expected Malik to pick up the phone.
"This is Bakura," He said.
"Wonderful," Malik replied before he could get a chance to continue.
"Your brother was supposed to come to my house and work on a project. It's been about a half hour and he isn't here yet, so maybe you should send someone over to the school and see whether or not he's still there," Bakura said. He waited for a moment.
"Okay," Malik said finally, and he hung up the phone. Bakura put his away and wondered what he would do it Malik never showed up. He leaned over the building to look at Marik's unconscious form and another wave of the delicious scent of blood assaulted his senses. His fingers clenched on the brick ledge and his limbs shook. Every cell in his body urged him to go down there and finish the job once and for all and be done with this nonsense, but Bakura didn't budge.
He knew that it would be in Marik's best interest if he went down there to help him. From the fresh scents of blood that continued to drift up to him he could tell that the teen was still bleeding, and since he knew virtually nothing about medicine he also didn't know how bad the injury was. Marik could have a concussion and he would be none the wiser. But going down there meant that he would be closer to the maddening smell, and he doubted that he'd be able to control himself a second time. In the long run, it would be better for the both of them if he stayed away. And hopefully someone would come for Marik soon.
Bakura watched the still form of Marik without once taking his eyes off him. His hunger came and went. At times he almost thought he would go down there and help, at others it was all he could do not to go down there. He contemplated calling an ambulance, but in the end decided that action would only complicate things further. When Marik awoke they would tell him some mystery caller had informed them of his whereabouts and state. Marik wasn't stupid, so he'd eventually put two and two together and figure out that he was the called. And what would he say then? "Sorry I couldn't take you there myself, but I barely stopped myself from eating you as it was." No. Not going to happen.
So Bakura waited, and his patience was rewarded when Malik himself showed up. Upon seeing his battered brother the youngest of the Ishtar twins spun around wildly as if expecting to find the people who had done this. They of course were long gone, but he almost caught sight of Bakura. He managed to duck just in time. Malik took out a cell phone and dialed a number, and within minutes an ambulance had arrived and took both twins away. When he was sure that they'd gone, Bakura scuttled back down from his perch and hopped into his car.
Even now, with Marik safely taken care of, he could still fell the need for blood hammering away at the back of his skull. When he thought about the delicious flavor of that blood his eyes flashed a dark crimson red and his fangs lowered. He envisioned Marik's long, slender, bronze neck without the jewelry that usually adorned it and he almost lost control again. He forcibly reined his desires back in and gripped the steering wheel tighter. The last time this had happened he'd needed Ryou to calm him, so now he suspected his brother would again be able to do the same. He sped to their apartment as fast as he could without getting caught.
He didn't bother to knock this time. He threw open the door and rushed in. Ryou's book bag was on the couch and noises were coming from the kitchen. When Ryou heard Bakura enter he stopped his activities and exited.
"So Bakura, did you have a good time with Marik?" He teased lightly as he came into the living room, and then he actually lifted his head up to see his brother.
"Oh god! Bakura what happened?" He asked, shock and concern both evident in his voice.
"I was looking for Marik so I could give him a ride home. When I found him he was unconscious and someone had bashed his head in. I called his brother and he took him to the hospital," Bakura explained briefly.
"That's horrible! How could someone do something so terrible? We have to go to the hospital and see if he's alright!" Ryou exclaimed nervously. He darted away from Bakura to look for his shoes and a jacket, mumbling nervously to himself the whole time. Bakura grabbed his arm and forced him to look straight at him. Ryou looked pale and one hand was already twirling a piece of hair around a slender finger.
"We can't Ryou! I can't go there. When I found him he was bleeding. I almost bit him right there. It's a miracle that I didn't. My defenses are shot. I can't go to a hospital. Especially not there, not with all the blood, not like this. And his family doesn't even know I was there. If we show up now it would be suspicious," Bakura said. Ryou frowned and just then the phone rang. He left to go get it and Bakura sunk wearily into the couch.
His mind raced with thoughts of blood. It wasn't as bad as it had been in the car, but he wasn't back to normal yet. He could still taste the faintest traces of Marik. And until they had all disappeared he would be unable to be around humans, especially the one whose blood he'd tasted and those with the same blood in them. If Ryou wanted to go than he could do so, but he was staying here.
"That was just Marik's sister. She called to tell us that Marik was in the hospital," Ryou informed, coming out of the kitchen still looking just as pale and shaken as if he'd just now been told the news. Bakura frowned, silently cursing the deity that had caused this coincidence, and got off the couch.
"Now that we know we can go see him Bakura! Isis knows you're his friend so I'm sure she'd be expecting you to come! Besides, what if he's really hurt Bakura? We should be there," Ryou said.
"I can't Ryou! I'll eat him!" Bakura protested. Ryou's tight-lipped mouth hardened into a determined expression and he frowned.
"You have to go Bakura. He's your friend and he's hurt, and that means you have to be there. Come on," Ryou said, and from his tone Bakura knew that if he tried to argue he would only be wasting time. His brother could be surprisingly adamant on some things and no matter how much they argued he would not back down. But he couldn't go, and he had to make Ryou understand that.
"Ryou please! I can't go! If you want to then fine, but I can't!" Ryou's face softened, and he quickly hugged Bakura around the middle.
"You can Bakura. I know that you're strong enough not to lose control because you haven't yet. You aren't a monster Bakura. You're a human too, and a good one, one that I trust will have the power to do the right thing. I believe in you Bakura," He said softly. The words seemed to pierce Bakura's heart and subside the rage inside his head. Ryou didn't think he was a monster or find him repulsive, even after he had twice now come home crazed with bloodlust. Even after that, Ryou was still able to call him human.
"Thank you Ryou," He said, voice almost breaking with emotion. Ryou looked up at him and he quickly erased the soft smile he was sure he was wearing in favor of a cocky grin.
They jumped into the car and sped off to the hospital, neither talking. Ryou was still worried, and while Bakura didn't want to admit it, he was too. He wondered what he would do if Marik were awake. Would he already know that his brother had been the one to bring him here? If he did, then what could Bakura say as an excuse for why he hadn't? He supposed he could say that he went home when he never found the other, but would such a weak explanation work?
At the front desk both twins lied and said they were cousins of Marik and they were given the door number without any troubles. When they reached the room they met up with the other three Ishtar siblings in the hallway.
"Bakura!" Isis called and hurried over to him. "Oh, you didn't need to come, but I'm glad you did. Marik will be happy. He's awake now but the doctor is visiting him," She explained hurriedly. She casually glanced over to Ryou and did a double take. "Oh! You must be his brother! It's Ryou isn't it? Well I'm glad that you decided to come as well. I'm sure Marik will be very glad."
Before Ryou could respond with what would be no doubt a polite response a white-clad doctor walked out of the room in front of them all.
"Well I'm pleased to say that your brother is fine. We were worried for a while there that he might have a concussion, but everything is in order. We'll keep him here overnight just in case any complications arise. In the morning he can go home and will only need to come back for a check up and to get the stitches removed. You can schedule an appointment for that with the secretary. Well, I'll get out of here now so you can all visit," He explained, smiling brightly. Isis thanked him and quickly went into the room. The doctor left and Bakura and Ryou were left alone with Malik and Rishid. An awkward silence settled about them that none tried to dismiss. Bakura chanced a look at Malik, but it told him little to nothing. The other Ishtar twin was stone-faced. The silence broke when Isis came back out.
"I told Marik that he had visitors. You can go see him now, and I'll leave you alone," She smiled, much happier now that she knew nothing was wrong. Bakura headed for the room but Ryou stayed behind.
"Are you coming?" he questioned.
"No, I think I'll stay out here for a while," Ryou answered, smiling all too sweetly for the situation. Bakura frowned, it figured that Ryou would be all for driving out to the hospital and then decide to stay out and let the two of them have some time alone. Surprisingly, he would rather it be this way. With his bloodlust under control he had realized that he really was worried for Marik. A lot more than he'd thought he'd been. Now that he knew the teen was okay some of that worry had evaporated and left anger in its place. He'd find out who did this and teach whoever it was to do such things.
He entered the hospital room and the horrid smell of it immediately hit him. The first bed he came across held an old man hooked up to numerous machines. The overpowering stench of medicine came from the man, and Bakura hurried past the bed as fast as he could.
Marik was lying on the second bed looking very small and pale, drowning as he was among all of the white sheets on the bed. He was glaring daggers at the wall next to him and his mouth was in a scowling pout. Bakura's anger faded for the moment and he successfully resisted the urge to point and laugh, deciding that that particular course of action wouldn't be much appreciated.
"Hey Blondie, how you feeling?" He teased. Marik looked up at him and his pout disappeared into a stunning grin.
"You don't even know how glad I am to see you. Isis has been on my ass from the very moment I woke up, worrying incessantly about my health. You would think I was actually dying! Heh, maybe Isis thinks I really am," Marik mused, briefly scowling again.
"Well you're not, so that's good," Bakura said. Marik laughed and tossed his platinum head of hair. The action caused Bakura to notice a brief flash of white among all the gold and he glowered, recalling that the doctor had said something about stitches.
"What is that?" He questioned, voice lowering as he walked closer to the bed-ridden teen to get a better look. In a moment Marik was frowning again too as he parted his hair to reveal the white pad of gauze bandaging his head.
"Stitches," He remarked bitterly. "Stupid fuckers bashed my head in with something metal and split it open. The doctor had to shave some of my hair to get the stitches in. I'm sure it makes me look terrible, but no one has let me have a mirror or anything to see just how bad it is. Some stupid hospital policy. They don't want me to break it to pieces and start hacking away at my wrists."
"I told you you were a slut. It's very amusing to see you this concerned over your hair," Bakura chuckled.
"Shut up and tell me how bad it looks! Isis said you can't even notice, but what does she know? She's a girl," Marik said, sounding for all the world like a young child insisting that girls were gross and had cooties. Again Bakura was successfully able to resist the urge to burst out into laughter at just how ironic that statement was.
"She's right, you can't even notice it. But Marik, do you know who it was that did this?" Bakura asked, voice lowering again as he remembered his previous anger. Marik nodded and it flared up like a fire fed by sweet oxygen. Oh, he would kill whoever it was that dared to mess with Marik in such a way and hurt him. Because Marik was his friend now, and messing with his friend was accountable to messing with him. And no one did that.
"It was those same guys who were bothering Ryou. When I stopped them they told me they'd get back at me and I guess this is how they decided to do that," Marik answered, frowning. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, and now Bakura's anger broke free of its leash and he saw red. He hissed and slammed his fist into the cushion of Marik's bed. Marik's widened lavender eyes followed the fist and then shot to Bakura's own. Now Marik was good at hiding his fear, but even so Bakura could still see the weariness that danced in and out of those lavender depths and could hear the slightly elevated heartbeat of the other teen. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, something Ryou always advised he do whenever he was about to lose his head. He rarely ever listened to his advice, but now, in front of Marik, he chose to. He didn't want for Marik to see him really lose control, so he forced himself to calm down and only reopened his eyes when he was better.
"Feeling better now?" Marik questioned, a slight teasing lilt in his voice.
"I'll be feeling better when I can kill those assholes. But until that time comes I'll just have to contain myself," Bakura answered, and he grinned evilly. Marik smirked.
"Well I'm flattered that you care so much about me Bakura. It's very sweet of you," He said smugly.
"Tch, I don't. I still needed an excuse to fight them for what they did to Ryou. Once Ryou learns about this I'm sure he'll let me kick their asses without giving me a lecture on how I should try a 'less aggressive approach' and how 'violence solves nothing,'" Bakura quoted, mocking Ryou with a high-pitched falsetto version of his voice.
"Well if that's the case, why did you get so angry? And your eyes are still red, so I don't think you're as calm now as you'd like for me to believe," Marik pointed out. Bakura opened his mouth and began to speak, then stopped, closed it, taken aback. Were his eyes still red? He hadn't even noticed. And more importantly, how did Marik know what the color change signified?
He was confused. And surprised to find that he was still angry, extremely so, and not only for the reason he'd mentioned. Sure, those guys had pissed him off in the first place by bothering Ryou, but the majority of his anger now was because of what they'd done to Marik. And then revelation hit him: When had Marik become more than just a good-looking fling to toy with?
The idea that such a thing had occurred scared him and his mind instantly balked against it. Marik had become his friend, that was it. He was still just as hot as before, and if he had his way then he would have some fun on this bed with the Egyptian, right here right now. Marik was still just a nice toy to look at, and his anger was perfectly justifiable because it was the anger of a friend and nothing more. Marik was Ryou's friend; Ryou would be angry too. That was all okay then.
"I'm angry because I am a very angry person. Just ask Ryou. And perhaps my eyes are still red because I'm excited that I get to have a little fun. After all, only drinking is off-limits. I can still do anything else I'd like as long as I don't kill them or drink from them," Bakura drawled huskily, really becoming excited now that he thought about it. His hand closed around one of the blankets on Marik's bed, and he again witnessed just the smallest flash of fear in Marik's lilac eyes before it was gone. That pleased him and he grinned, allowing his fangs to slid further out of his gums.
"You probably shouldn't do that. Anyone could walk in and see you like that," Marik remarked, sounding nonplussed. Bakura sighed dramatically and sheathed his fangs, then concentrated on forcing his eyes back to their brown color. They'd been brown when he was alive too and he had liked the color (so had many of his admirers), but it was only after his death and they'd turned red that he'd grown tired of the muddy hue of them. He actually liked that he didn't have to worry about his eyes turning red while he was with Marik. It was such a pain to continually hide the color. But he supposed Marik was right. If anyone came into the room and saw him in vamp mode they would freak, especially if it was a member of the Ishtar family.
"You just have to ruin all my fun, don't you?" Bakura mock pouted, and Marik grinned.
00000
About a minute after Bakura went into the room Isis stood up out of her seat with a flourish and looked expectantly at the others sitting with her in the hallway.
"Well, now that we know everything is okay, I'm going to head down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. Would anyone like to accompany me?" She asked nicely. Rishid silently left his seat to stand by her side and Isis looked at both of the still-sitting occupants of the room.
"Ryou, would you like to go with us?"
"Oh, no thank you. I don't have much of an appetite right now," Ryou answered politely, smiling.
"And how about you Malik?" Isis questioned.
"I'd rather not," Malik answered stiffly. Ryou looked at him sharply, and almost missed hearing Isis' goodbye as Malik currently occupied his attention. He said goodbye and then resumed the task of discreetly staring at Marik's brother.
His face and eyes were completely devoid of emotion, as was the tone of voice he had used when talking to his sister. Ryou didn't know Malik very well, but to him the other teen really didn't seem like the type to be so stone-faced and bland. And speaking of things not quite on the money, Isis had sounded very uncomfortable when she spoke with Malik, though she hid it well. Ryou, being a very quiet and reserved person himself, often exercised in the activity of people watching and so was able to read all of this fairly easily. He wondered if something had happened to cause the family to have such a tense and standoffish vibe surrounding them.
Ryou's soft brown eyes traveled slowly and inconspicuously back to the face of the other inhabitant of the hallway searching for more signs of something amiss. However, for all his skill at remaining incognito, Ryou soon forgot to be cautious and began openly staring at Malik. The teen looked so much like his twin brother, but there was just something about Malik that caused his breath to shorten and his heart to flutter. He didn't know what it was yet, but it was something that Marik did not have and probably never would, and Ryou would not rest until he found it...
"Is there a reason as to why you're staring at me?" Malik asked suddenly, bland tone dropped and now sounding annoyed.
"Eeep!" Ryou squeaked. His cheeks instantly burned red and he viciously tore his gaze away from Malik and stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. His long white hair fell around his shoulders and blocked his red cheeks, something Ryou was grateful for, as they had only grown redder now that the fact that he had actually squeaked the word "Eeep" registered in his mind. Oh god! Now Malik probably thought he was some kind of mouse, and he had actually been caught staring! Openly and blatantly staring! Not that it was his fault, Malik's bronzed skin just looked so soft, especially at the contour of his cheek and oh god he was still doing it! Ryou squeaked again and his blush increased tenfold.
Once his blush was under control and his heart no longer beating frantically against his ribcage, Ryou raised his head and looked back up at Malik. He smiled sheepishly. Malik still looked annoyed.
"Sorry. Umm, I-I... umm... I bet you're glad that your brother is okay!" Ryou exclaimed, cheeks reddening again because he hadn't been able to come up with something to say right away. His blush faded as he noticed Malik's annoyed expression grow sour until it was practically a snarl.
"Is something wrong?" Ryou questioned, concerned now.
"Do not mistake me for my brother," Malik replied scathingly. "I am not about to become friends with you or your brother and tell you all of my problems in a vain hope that you can somehow solve them. I don't need you or your friendship and am perfectly happy with hating the both of you." Ryou was startled into silence by his icy tone. It looked like he had touched on a nerve.
"Well... if you don't want to be friends then that's fine. And I won't try to make you tell me anything you don't want to. I'm just saying that if you do want to... you can," Ryou said, smiling. Malik just stared at him like he was crazy.
"I loathe your brother. You do know this, right?" Malik asked slowly.
"Well, of course I would rather you not dislike him so strongly, but Bakura is hard to get along with. When we were younger he actually didn't like me very much, and I was always scared of him because he was so mean. After so many years of living with him I can understand his behaviors and personality a lot more now, but to everyone else he just seems mean. I'm sure there are a lot of people that don't like Bakura," Ryou chuckled softly. "Actually, I'd like it a lot more if he were similar to your bother. It seems like you and Marik love each other very much." Malik actually laughed here.
"Sometimes I wonder about that," He said darkly.
"I don't really know you very well, but I'm sure that you love Marik, and I know that he loves you. He cares a lot about you, I'm positive. I can tell from the way he talks about you," Ryou insisted softly. Here Malik looked directly at Ryou and the dark violet eyes of the teenager captured him. Ryou lost himself in their depths and for a moment forgot where he was and what he'd been saying. He would have stayed lost in those eyes for much longer but Malik was talking and Ryou broke away from his intense gaze and his cheeks flushed slightly.
"If he cares for me so much then why does he do so many things to piss me off?" Malik snarled, face contorting ferociously in such a fearsome way that it even scared Ryou.
"He might not be trying to anger you. I'm almost sure that he's not. He just... sometimes does things that you don't like. I think that Marik wants to do some of the things he wants to do, not just the things that you both want to do. He doesn't mean to upset you and I'm sure that he's sorry when he does. You just need to give him the chance to apologize and to accept him for who he is and forgive what he's done wrong," Ryou said softly, lost in memory for a moment.
"What the hell do you want, you stupid brat?"
"..."
"What? Don't just stand there like an idiot!"
"P-please don't leave again. I... I don't want you to go..."
"Wh-what are you talking about? Why would you care anyway? You'd be happy if I was gone. So would mom and dad and everybody else! And do you know what? I'd be happy too! I don't need any of you!"
"No! Don't leave! Please! I-I love you! You're my brother!"
"Wh-what are you saying? Stop saying that!"
"No! I love you brother, and I don't care what mom and dad say! I don't care if you're bad! I love you!"
"Ryou..."
Just as fast as the memory had come it was gone, leaving Ryou with a smile on his face. Yes, he knew all about forgiveness and accepting a person for their faults. He had done it all long ago and had continued to do it since then. Because when you really loved someone you forgave and accepted your whole life.
"Maybe," Malik said, less angry but still sounding unconvinced.
"Well, try it out. Maybe it will help," Ryou advised, smiling. The door to Marik's room opened up and Bakura stepped out. His brown eyes locked on to Malik and then Ryou, who was still smiling, immediately got the wrong idea, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk.
"Oh sod off!" Ryou exclaimed quickly. His cheeks had already turned bright red.
"Eh? I haven't said anything Ryou! No need for you to get your panties up in a bunch," Bakura teased. Ryou's cheeks grew redder and he pouted sullenly.
"Heheh, I only wanted to know if you would like to say hi to Marik before we leave," Bakura grinned. Ryou got up hurriedly and entered the room before Bakura could tease him anymore. He was so mean sometimes! Tch, like anything would really happen between him and Malik anyways, and in the middle of the hospital hall no less! Shoving Bakura temporarily out of his mind, Ryou entered the room and greeted Marik.
00000
After Bakura and Ryou left Marik was alone in the room for only a brief minute or two. He expected Isis and Rishid to enter, so he was very surprised when Malik did. He'd been told that Malik was the one who'd found him and got him to the hospital, but since he'd woken up Malik had been the only one not in to see him. Now that he had come Marik didn't know what to do.
"Malik..." He said lightly. His brother looked at him expectantly, and before he had a chance to leave like he had in school Marik jumped on the opportunity he had been granted to speak alone and in private with his twin.
"Malik don't go!" He said quickly. His brother quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I wasn't planning on it actually," He responded.
"Malik, I'm so sorry, you have to believe me. The thing you saw with Bakura... that was a mistake. I didn't mean for it to happen, especially not if you don't like it," Marik said quickly. He had planned what he would say to Malik from the moment the act that had angered him had occurred, but now all of that planning had flown out of his head. To be brutally honest with himself, he hadn't even expected to get this far.
"You sure didn't seem to think it was a mistake when it was happening." Malik said snidely.
"Maybe not then, but I wasn't thinking. I am now, and I know that it shouldn't have happened. It isn't right," Marik insisted. This little matter he had thought about almost as much as he had the problem with Malik. It was, after all, what had caused the problem with Malik. And in the end he had decided that even though he had been more than willing to continue on the couch, and when Bakura had entered his room his heart had sped just a bit, it was all wrong and should not continue. He was not gay, and Malik was far more important than Bakura anyways. Whatever had been happening with Bakura had to stop.
"Marik," Malik sighed, "I don't care. You can screw around with the idiot as much as you'd like. Do whatever it is that you want to do."
"What?" Marik asked, stunned. His brother, who had never once let him have anything without a fight, was now just allowing him to do whatever he liked with Bakura, who he hated?
"Maybe... I need to stop caring so much about what you do. It's not my place, especially not if you're going to be doing that with him. So do whatever you want," Malik said again.
"Are you sure?" Marik asked in disbelief, still not quite positive that this was actually going the way it was. He half expected Malik to smirk that sinister grin of his and scold him for ever being stupid enough to believe such lies.
"I'm sure," He answered instead. Marik looked over the blank face of his twin. It wasn't blank in the same way as when he was angry, it was blank in... acceptance? Was this all true then? Did Malik really not care? He could find no deception in his brother's eyes, but he still doubted his words. Malik still cared, he was sure of it, but maybe what he was saying was that he wouldn't get angry about it anymore.
"Malik, you do know that I still care about you, right? I mean, you are my brother, and that means that I... love... you." The words felt strange coming from his mouth, unfamiliar because he really never used them. "No matter what happens with Bakura, I always will," He finished.
"I know that. I just forget sometimes," Malik commented. Then silence.
Both twins looked the other over, both thinking, and both aware that this was as close to an emotional understanding as they were going to get. Neither of them were comfortable with such emotions, so this was difficult for both of them. But both also knew that it was necessary, as necessary as they were to each other. Two that were actually one.
Isis and Rishid rescued them from silence when they returned from the café. Isis' concern at the two of them together alone was almost palpable at first, but then she noticed there was no tension between them and be some instinct she knew the crisis was over. She smiled and they conversed like normal until visiting hours were up. His siblings left and Marik fell easily into the embrace of comforting sleep.
Okay, so that was chapter eight! It was all pretty good I think (except for that I found the bit with Marik and Malik's big confrontation to be a bit lacking, but eh, maybe it's just me) and I was able to squeeze in some Deathshipping for all of you who've been wanting to see some! We also got a bit of insight to whatever it was that occurred in Egypt with Marik and Malik and there was a little with the past of Bakura and Ryou as well! I hope that's good then! Well I'll get started typing chapter nine right after my third chapter of Deadly Ambivalence goes up! (Advertising!)
