Update, yay! I wanted to get this out a couple of hours ago but I got distracted by the new Pope. Viva il Papa! Haha, anyway, I hope you enjoy, there's much more thiefshipping XD Thanks for the reviews, as ever I am eternally grateful! To the guest that mentioned angstshipping: it isn't going to appear in this story because I didn't want Ryou getting jealous of his brother - he's basically all he has left, and I didn't want to ruin their relationship! But Marik and Ryou do stay very good friends :3 Anyway, I shall shut up and let you read. Enjoy! - Jem

Marik passed the next few hours tossing and turning on the sofa, his tired eyes kept open by the constant stinging of his back. When Ryou appeared a few hours later he eyed Marik sympathetically. "Bad night?"

"You can say that again," the Egyptian groaned, raising his head slightly. "I haven't slept at all."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Ryou looked away. "I should have come out here earlier, you can use my bed..."

"Don't worry Ryou, I'm not sure it would make that much difference." Marik tried for a smile, which Ryou returned hesitantly. "You should get off to school, I don't want to make you late."

"If you're sure..."

"Of course." Marik sat up, wincing as his bandages shifted against his wounds. "But get some food first, or your brother will kill me."

Ryou chuckled. "Alright. But if you have any trouble text me, ok? I'll come back and help."

"Thanks, Ry. Go on now, don't let me make you late." Marik watched Ryou leave before flopping back down on his stomach, moaning softly at the pain. His back burned worse than ever, and he knew he had to change his bandages. Moving as little as possible he reached for the bag the hospital had given him, wincing with every tug on his back and feeling blood trickle down his skin, cursing softly as he hauled himself upright. He swallowed two painkillers before proceeding to unwrap the bandages, hissing sharply with every movement.

"What are you doing?" Bakura's voice was cool as he leaned in the doorway, watching.

"What does it frigging look like I'm doing?" Marik snapped, growling slightly as his movements reopened the wounds. He took a deep breath. "Sorry. It hurts."

Bakura said nothing, just stepped closer. "You should have told me."

"I don't need to..." Marik hissed, trailing off as he snagged a bandage. "Ah..."

Wordlessly, Bakura sat next to Marik and turned him round, looking at the wounds impassively. He removed Marik's hands, ignoring the Egyptian's feeble protestations, and unwound the rest of the bandages, screwing them up and throwing them carelessly to the floor before taking the medial pack.

Marik sniffed. "You're going to have to pick those up before Ryou gets home."

"He wishes," Bakura scoffed, taking the lid off the salve and pouring some onto his hand. "I can't, anyway. I'm starting work today."

"What, work at that job that I helped you get?"

"It was me at the interview kid, not you."

Marik relaxed slightly as the salve cooled his burning wounds, shivering at Bakura's touch. "Well, it was me that got you that interview. The record shop is one of the ones I went in, I believe?"

Bakura snorted. "Do you want to go and do the job for me then?"

"Would you let me keep the money?"

"Not in a million years." Bakura smirked as he put the bottle of salve away, taking out a new roll of bandages. "Hold still now, Marik."

Marik obeyed, feeling tingles roll down his spine as Bakura wrapped his arms around his chest. "Hold this," he breathed in his ear, offering Marik the end of the bandage roll. Marik pressed it to the front of his chest, breath hitching as he felt Bakura lean back slightly, wrapping the bandages around him, one hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. It took a lot of Marik's self control not to lean back into his touch. What the hell is with me? He wondered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. I'm not gay; this shouldn't be bothering me at all! So why do I not want him to stop...?

Bakura eventually covered all the wounds, taping the end of the bandage down securely and leaning back to admire his handiwork. "That should last the day, at least."

"Thanks," Marik said softly, not turning to face him. "I appreciate it."

Bakura made no reply.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Bakura wrapped his arms back around Marik, drawing the Egyptian backwards into a hug. "I'd kill your father if he wasn't in police custody."

Marik's eyes widened momentarily before he allowed himself to settle naturally against Bakura's chest. "If he wasn't in custody, I'd let you. I just hope he stays there..."

"He will," Bakura muttered into the other's ear. "You don't stab your own son without facing some consequences. Besides, if he tries to come anywhere near you again I really will kill him."

Marik chuckled softly. "I don't doubt that you could, but it wouldn't really help the situation. What would happen to Ryou? Or me, for that matter."

Bakura snorted softly. "I'd bring you with me on the run, obviously."

Marik laughed. "Oh yes? Who says we'd want to go?"

"Ryou's my brother, he'd have no choice. And you'd be pretty ungrateful if you just abandoned me after I killed your father."

"That's true," Marik replied, a smile still tugging at his lips. They stayed like that, Marik pressed into Bakura's chest, until the older teen sighed heavily.

"I'd better get to work," he mumbled.

Marik laughed slightly, sitting up and allowing Bakura to stand. "Never thought I'd head you say that."

"Hmph, well, don't get used to it." Bakura's eyes sparkled as he turned back to Marik. "Don't go anywhere, ok? I'll be home before Ryou. Don't destroy the flat."

"Oh please," Marik grinned. "If the flat's lasted this long without you breaking something, I'm sure I'll manage just fine."

"Watch it, Ishtar. I can still kick you out."

"Ryou would never let you."

"...True." Bakura smirked. "Whatever. Go sleep, and clean up that medical crap. Don't need you littering."

Marik glared as he turned to leave. "You were the one that dropped the bandages! You pick them up!"

"Can't hear you, Ishtar!" Bakura all but purred as he shut the door behind him. Marik sighed heavily before chucking the bandages away, and then clambered into Ryou's bed to try and get some sleep.


Marik woke a few hours later to his stomach growling with hunger. He stood up warily, stretching carefully, pleased when his back only complained slightly. He headed out to the kitchen, pouring himself some cereal as he wondered what to do next. He really needed a change of clothes – his top was still covered in blood – but that would mean going back to that house. Ishizu and Odion would be there, trying to convince him to stay, but he knew he could never do that; this flat already felt like more of a home than that place ever had. Still, it would be best to get this over with, Marik thought tiredly. I really do need some clothes. He pulled on his shoes and jacket before heading out the door, remembering to grab a key from the desk on his way out so he could get back in.

He walked the streets quickly, head down, ignoring the occasional twinge from his back. His steps faltered when he saw that house again, bile rising in his throat, but he took a deep breath and pressed onwards. Dad isn't there anymore. He can't hurt me anymore. I'm going to be fine. I don't have to stay. He kept repeating this to himself over and over, his own personal mantra as he raised a hand and knocked slowly.

The door flew open almost immediately, and Ishizu threw herself at him. "Marik! You came back! I'm so happy!"

"No, Ishizu," he said harshly, pushing her away and stepping through the door with a shudder. "I'm not staying. I just want to get some of my stuff."

Ishizu backed away slightly, hurt in her blue eyes. "Brother? You really won't stay?"

He shook his head. "You know I can't. It's hard enough to even come back here..."

Odion stepped forwards and put a hand on Ishizu's shoulder. "He's right, sister. Let him get his stuff. It's good to see you, Marik," he added with a grin.

Marik managed a faltering smile. "You too, Odion. Um, I'm just going to my room..."

"Of course. We'll be down here if you want a hand."

He nodded before heading up the stairs, ignoring the pained looks he was being sent by his sister. He didn't spend long in his room though, really just wanting to get out of there as fast as he could, so he just chucked a few essentials in a bag before heading back down the stairs. Ishizu was waiting, and she grasped his arm in a vice-like grip before he could twist away. "Please Marik, just hear me out for a moment."

He sent her a glare but nodded once. She took a breath. "I'm sorry you feel you can't live with us anymore, and whilst I don't fully understand your decision, I will support you. I just want you to know that I will always be here for you, if you need somewhere to go or someone to talk to. Promise me you'll stay in touch?"

He regarded her for a moment before nodding slowly. "I promise, sister. And...thank you."

She nodded, blue eyes still pained as she pulled away. He watched her go into the kitchen before turning to his brother. "Odion..."

He didn't say anything, just pulled him into a hug which Marik returned, clinging on to his older brother desperately. "I'm sorry I can't stay...I'm sorry..."

"Don't be silly, Marik," Odion replied, holding him close. "You can't stay. I understand. Have you got somewhere to go?"

Marik nodded, pulling back slightly and wiping his eyes. "My friend from school and his brother – Ryou and Bakura. They live nearby, so you can visit..."

Odion smiled. "Of course. I won't leave you alone for long, Marik – you're still my irritating little brother."

Marik laughed, punching his arm lightly. "And you're still my idiotic big brother."

Odion's smile widened. "Naturally. Go now, brother - I can see how hard it is for you to be here. Go on – be happy. I'll see you, ok?"

Marik nodded as he turned to the door. "You'd better!" He gave one final wave before heading down the street, hearing the door close behind him with a sense of finality.

He smiled.


Bakura paced around the flat anxiously. Where is that bloody Egyptian? He had got home from work half an hour ago and assumed Marik would be sleeping; when he poked his head into Ryou's room, however, there had been no sign of the younger teen. Since then he had searched the flat three times and he clearly wasn't here. I told him not to go anywhere! What's he gone and done now? If he's in trouble again...Bakura froze, several visions of an injured Marik trapped and shivering out on the streets running through his mind. He shook his head briskly. Calm down. He's probably fine. And why do you even care so much anyway? It's not like you'd be bothered if you never saw him again...ok, so that wasn't exactly true. For some reason, Bakura felt something twist in his gut at the idea of the Egyptian just disappearing. He refused to acknowledge this though, pushing down his sense of worry and replacing it with indignant anger instead. Bloody effeminate teen. It's his own fault if he gets hurt. That twisting in his gut was back, damn...

At that moment he heard a key turn in the lock, and Marik sheepishly crept through the door, meeting Bakura's crimson gaze hesitantly. "Um...hi."

Bakura didn't even bother hiding his anger. "Where the bloody hell have you been?"

Marik laughed a little nervously. "Oh, just to get some stuff...I need clothes, after all."

Bakura stalked towards him furiously. "You went back to that house? On your own?"

"Well, yeah..." Marik backed away a little, back hitting the wall. "Just to get some things...calm down Bakura, ok? I'm fine."

"Calm down." Bakura's voice was deceptively smooth. "You're telling me to calm down. Well maybe you shouldn't just disappear without warning then!"

"Ok..." Marik raised a brow. "Why are you so worried? It's not like you care that much..."

Bakura looked away, and Marik was amused to see a slight pink tinge colouring his cheeks. "Shut up, kid. I told you not to go anywhere. You disobeyed."

"Well, I'm back now. Can I please sit down? I'm tired."

Bakura stepped aside, still refusing to look at him, and Marik flopped onto the sofa, genuinely exhausted. His bag clattered onto the floor and Bakura picked it up, a quizzical expression crossing his face. "What's so important that you had to go and get it today, anyway?"

There was a muffled groan from Marik, who had his face pressed in the cushions. "Mph. I dunno, just stuff."

Bakura chuckled lightly, opening the bag. He held up a bottle of eyeliner. "Can't live without your make-up, hm?"

"Huh?" Marik opened one eye, shooting upright when he saw the eyeliner and lunging for it. "Give me that!"

Bakura leaned back, holding it above his head. "Feisty, aren't you?"

"Just give me it back!" Marik stood up but Bakura stepped away, holding it out of his reach. "It's cultural, damn it!"

Bakura just laughed. "Oh, sure, good excuse kid."

"It's true!" Marik paused, gaining a glint in his eye that Bakura didn't much like. Grinning mischievously he pounced on Bakura, knocking them both to the ground and pinning him to the floor. Bakura gave a surprised grunt as Marik fell on top of him, but he still didn't let go of the eyeliner. Marik trapped his wrists in one hand, tugging the bottle free and sitting up with a grin. "Got it!" He announced.

Bakura raised a brow. "Good for you. Mind getting off me now?"

"Hmm..." Marik placed one finger on his chin, smirking down at him. "I'm not so sure. I'm quite comfortable."

Bakura snorted. "I'm giving you five seconds to get off me. Five...four..."

"Oh, really? What are you going to do about it?"

Bakura smiled widely, and Marik thought twice about saying that.

"I'm going to do this," he purred, before gripping Marik's arms and flipping their positions, hovering over the Egyptian with a smirk. "Oh yes, I like this much better."

Marik glared up at him."Get the hell off of me!"

"No, no I don't think so." Bakura sat up with a smile, straddling Marik. "You're right, this is comfortable."

"Urgh, frigging hell Bakura!" Marik wriggled underneath him, and Bakura gasped. Marik froze. "No...I didn't mean..."

Bakura just laughed, leaning back down so their faces were inches apart. "Heh. Any argument you previously had against you being gay has just been entirely disproved, kid."

Marik flushed darkly, just making Bakura laugh louder. "Shut the hell up!"

"Hm, I don't really want to do that, Marik," he breathed seductively. Marik felt his heart race, and tried desperately to control his reactions. Gods, I did not expect to end up like this...

Bakura leaned closer, their lips almost touching. "You still sure you're not gay?"

Marik concentrated on breathing. "P-positive."

Bakura chuckled lowly. "Stuttering isn't really helping your case, you know."

"Well, you are clearly gay," Marik struggled to keep his tone even.

"Never said I wasn't," he replied, voice low and seductive. "You, on the other hand, are clearly in denial."

Marik's breath hitched. "I'm not..." he was interrupted by Bakura leaning down and, ever-so-softly, brushing their lips together. It was short but very, very sweet. Bakura drew back slightly, meeting Marik's gaze, and the young Egyptian found himself thinking Please do that again...I don't know what it means but I liked that, please do it again...

Bakura's eyes gleamed. He leaned closer once more...

They were interrupted by the buzzing of the intercom. Bakura sighed. "Damn," he murmured before climbing off Marik, leaving him dazed and confused, back slightly itching. He sat up slowly, watching Bakura answer but not registering what he said until the teen looked straight at him, covering the receiver. "It's the police. They want to talk to you. Shall I let them up?"

Standing up and brushing himself down, he said "Sure," all the time trying not to meet the older teen's eyes. He heard Bakura chuckle before he pressed the buzzer, and desperately tried to control his blush.

The two police officers sat on the sofa with Marik on the armchair facing them, Bakura perched on the arm of his seat. The man spoke first: "So, you are Marik Ishtar."

"Yes," Marik sounded slightly wary, and the officer smiled.

"Please, be at ease. We just want to get to the bottom of what happened.

"You have nothing to worry about," the woman added with a smile. "Do you mind telling us what happened on the night you ended up in hospital?"

Marik recounted the story in clipped, short sentences, trying to keep his voice steady. He hated the sympathetic looks he was getting, so he stopped looking at the two officers, focusing on the wall instead. When he described his father holding the knife his voice faltered, and Bakura laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

When he was finished, the man broke the silence. "I'm very sorry this happened to you, Mr. Ishtar. Can you tell me, was this the first time your father attempted something like this?"

"It was the first time he was this serious," Marik responded. "But not the first time he's been violent."

"Can you describe some other times? How long has it gone on?"

Marik snorted. "For as long as I can remember. It used to be Odion, my adopted brother, more than me, but dad kicked him out last year. Since then he's turned on me." He drew in a deep breath, face stoical. "He would whip me if I was out too late, or lock me in my room with no food. He did that to Ishizu and I for three weeks when we tried to leave, a few months ago..."

The man made a note with a small nod. "Yes, she told us about that."

"You've spoken to them already?" Marik looked slightly surprised.

The female officer nodded. "Your sister suggested we do it that way – give you a little time to recuperate."

He nodded slowly. "...I suppose that's alright."

The man looked back at him. "Can you remember any other serious injuries he's caused?"

Marik frowned, thinking. "Well...it happened so frequently, I can't really pin down a specific time..."

The officers exchanged a glance, and the man nodded, looking back to him. "One last question, Mr. Ishtar – your father will obviously be brought to trial. Your evidence will be crucial – are you happy to stand up in court? There is the option of appearing as a screened witness..."

"No," Marik's voice was firm. "I'll go to court. I want to look that bastard in the face as he gets sent down."

Bakura's hand tightened on his shoulder and the male officer nodded, though he looked a little surprised. "Very well, that's all for now. We'll be in touch about the case, ok?"

Marik nodded, and stood up to see them out of the door. When they were gone he turned back to Bakura. "Well...that could have gone a lot worse."

Bakura nodded thoughtfully. "Are you sure about going to the courtroom?"

"Of course," Marik responded, sitting back on the sofa. "I meant every word."

Bakura flashed him a feral grin. "Good. And I'll be right there next to you, watching him get put away for good."

Marik's eyes widened, before he grinned right back. "Thanks, 'Kura."

"What did I say about that nickname?"

"Well, I just..." Marik was interrupted by the door opening, and Ryou arrived home from school.

"Bakura, what did you do? I just saw the police leaving..."

Bakura snorted, collapsing on the sofa next to Marik. "I did nothing. They were here for Marik, actually."

Ryou looked shocked, and Marik rolled his eyes. "It was about my dad Ryou, calm down."

"O-oh...that makes sense. Sorry, 'Kura, but I just sort of assumed..."

Bakura waved him away. "It's fine. What are we having for dinner?"

"Oh actually, I got a takeaway," he grinned slightly sheepishly. Bakura raised an eyebrow, so he rushed on "Well I mean, I knew you wouldn't want to cook and I'm tired, and I figured Marik could use some cheering up...plus we should celebrate you starting your new job! So I just thought..."

"It's fine Ryou," Bakura said, jumping up and heading to the kitchen. "I'm hungry. Move, Ishtar."

Marik rolled his eyes but complied, and the three sat down to a happy meal, feeling more like a family than ever before.

The ending's sort of abrupt, sorry about that :S I hope you enjoyed! A massive thanks to all who are reading, and to everyone who's reviewed/followed/faved, you help keep me motivated XD See you next chapter, hopefully tomorrow! - Jem