Disclaimer - I do not own any of the rights or privileges to Yu-Gi-Oh. I am not making money off of this, merely having fun, so don't sue me.

Author's Notes - Well first off . . .THANK YOU! I'm surprised at how many people are actually reading and enjoying this fic. I expected less of a response, due to the OOC'ness of certain characters. So, a big thank you goes out to all my reviewers, and I hope you continue to enjoy the fic.

Now, a shameless advertisement. A friend and I have gone into RPG mode, and have set up a text based Yu-Gi-Oh RPG site and board. We would like to formally invite all of you to come join in the fun! One thing though . . . we're trying to keep people from generally playing the main characters, so we've set up a system to build your own and have THEM walking around Domino City. The main characters are being played by administrators mostly, and you can request to interact with them if you want them to join your thread.

To go to the website, type in the usual stuff . . . you know, the whole website thing . . . http and www . . . and That will take you to the website where you can check out the rules and the storyline before swinging over to the boards. Hope to see some of you there : )

And now that my shameless advertisement is done . . . On With The Story . . .!

Chapter 11 - Surprises

"You did WHAT!?" Yugi asked through the phone. Yami silently thanked Ra that he'd had the presence of mind to hold the phone away from his ear . . . otherwise, Yugi would probably have deafened him.

"Aibou . . . we had to. His condition . . . is somewhat precarious, and we could not stay in the Shadow Realm with him while his physical form was in the hospital." Quickly in as few words as possible, Yami described the condition Marik's soul was in.

"Oh," Yugi murmured from the other end of the phone. "But . . . is it safe? I mean, he did want to kill you, and he managed to trap Bakura in the Shadow Realm . . ."

"We will be careful, aibou." Gesturing from Bakura caught his attention. "Yugi, Bakura would like to speak with Ryou. Could you put him on the phone, please?"

"RYOU! BAKURA WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!" Yugi shouted. Yami winced, handing the phone over to Bakura. His aibou could be somewhat over energetic at times. Bakura spoke with Ryou for a few moments before hanging up the phone.

"They're all moving camp over to here tomorrow," Bakura said as he turned to face Yami. "Joey is, as we figured, somewhat irrate that we brought Marik back with us. He's refusing to allow Serenity or Tea to come anywhere near here at the moment."

"Yugi will talk him out of it," Yami replied, turning to study the figure currently residing in the guest bedroom of the Motou household. "I need to go keep an eye on him, and you need to rest. Can you send me in?"

"Yes . . . but you'll be trapped there with no way of getting out unless you can get a hold of me in the Ring."

"I'll manage," Yami said, smiling. "If something happens, I'll shout for you." Bakura snorted, but put up no further argument. He took them both to the Shadow Realm before retreating back into the Ring to rest. Yami sighed and sat down near the bed, checking Marik's bandages carefully. There was some spotting, but otherwise the bandages were still free of blood. Bakura had done a thorough job.

Absently, Yami pulled his dueling deck out of his pocket, shuffling through till he came across the Dark Magician.

"I wish I could summon you here, old friend. Your presence would be a comfort," he murmured. He was startled when the card flared into brilliance. Once his eyesight had returned, he went to retrieve his card, which he had dropped.

"Thank you," he murmured, as the card was handed to him . . . and then froze as he realized he was no longer alone. He looked up slowly, and jumped to his feet as the Dark Magician smiled down at him.

"Master Pharaoh," the sorcerer said, bowing. "I am pleased that you summoned me." Yami shook his head.

"But I didn't . . . I can not, my Shadow Powers are blocked." The Dark Magician smiled, his lavender hair waving slightly as he shook his head.

"You had no need to summon me in that way, master. I am your soul bound monster . . . I come at your call, Shadow Powers or no." Yami smiled in return and sat down again, gesturing for the sorcerer to take a seat as well, which the former card did, leaning his staff up against the wall before sitting carefully across from the Pharaoh. "That was a good thing you did, master," he murmured, nodding his head briefly in Marik's direction. "He has suffered greatly, and I had not the power to step in and stop it."

"Please, Dark Magician . . . I am not your master. Call me your friend, or Yami." Yami sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I could not leave him to suffer like that. No person deserves that . . . not even him." The Dark Magician nodded.

"You have a good heart . . . Amunamenra. I am proud to be soul bound to you." Yami looked startled at the use of his true name. "I have been soul bound to you for a long time, Pharaoh. Of course I know your true name," the card murmured, reading his thoughts easily.

"Do you have a true name?" Yami asked. The Dark Magician nodded.

"It is long lost in the ancient scriptures . . . but it is Asim."

"Asim . . . 'protector'. It fits you," Yami murmured. He smiled slightly. "You know . . . in the entire time I have summoned you, I don't think you have ever once spoken to me." Asim nodded.

"This is the first time you have ever summoned me in the Shadow Realm outside of battle, Amun . . . or Yami, as you call yourself now. In the real world, we are simply reflections. Here, where we exist as true creatures of shadow, we have a consciousness, the same as your own."

A moan from Marik turned Yami's attention back to his patient. Marik's face was a study of pain, the grimace marring his features that of great discomfort.

"He will awake soon, Yami," Asim murmured. "You must be careful . . . he still harbors great darkness within him. It will take much to bring him back to the light." Yami nodded.

"I'm nothing if not stubborn, as Yugi would say. Besides, you are here, so I am not nearly as worried as I was if he had awakened while I was on my own."

"Master," Asim said seriously, "Marik is the least of your concerns. The 'collector' knows much more than you think he does . . . he is dangerous." Yami turned to look at the card searchingly.

"You know about him?"

"I know of him . . . all of us do, and we fear. He has something planned . . . we know not what it is, but it could put the entire Shadow Realm in danger. But he needs you, that much we do know . . . and he cannot proceed without you. You are the lock and key on the Shadow Realm . . . without you, he cannot access the powers of the Shadow Realm as he would like." Yami nodded thoughtfully.

"Thank you, Asim." He turned his attention back to Marik, who appeared to be coming to consciousness. "Could you please stand guard outside? Do not come in unless I call for you or you sense me in very serious danger . . . I feel this is something I must handle on my own.." The Dark Magician rose slowly and retrieved his staff. Bowing to Yami, he exited the hut, taking up a station beside the door, next to Dark Necrofear.

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The pain coursing through his back made him want to sink right back into the darkness, but his memories would not allow him. Something tugged at the corner's of his consciousness. A voice . . . commanding, powerful, ordering a halt to the punishment his father inflicted. A gentle hand on his face, smoothing his hair back as they removed the gag from his mouth. It had been the sudden movement of being pulled into someone's arms that had finally sent him into oblivion . . . now he wanted desperately to know who had rescued him from the whipping he had endured for what seemed like eternity.

'Damn Malik, and the Pharaoh, and my father,' he thought hazily. This was all their fault . . . Malik's for trapping him here, his father's for being a blind old man who couldn't get away from the past . . . and the Pharaoh for just being Pharaoh and being important enough that Marik's own life meant nothing compared to his.

"That isn't true . . . you're life is very important, and that you've been denied it is not my fault, no matter how much you believe it." Marik froze at the sound of that voice. He knew that voice . . . dreaded it, actually. "I know you're awake, Marik, so pretending to be unconscious isn't going to do anything."

He tried to roll over, to face the owner of that voice and get away from him, and howled as the pain in his back flared into agony. A gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him from moving further, when all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball to protect himself from the pain.

"If you move, you will only make it worse," that hated voice murmured. "Bakura and I retrieved you from your father's ministrations, and brought you back near your Soul Room, but you cannot return to your body in this state." Lavender eyes opened slowly as the pain lessened, focusing slowly on the crimson eyes of the Pharaoh only a few inches away.

"Why?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from long disuse for anything other than crying out in pain.

Yami sat back and regarded those lavender eyes solemnly. To tell Marik now could possibly damage any chances they had of redeeming him . . . but Yami did not want to start out under false pretenses. Decision made, he leaned against the nearby wall, and spoke, his eyes on the door.

"We . . . no, I . . . need your help. That's the reason we came after you. But, I want you to know that had I known what was going on, I would have come for you much sooner." Marik snorted, then groaned as his back twinged at the movement.

"I'm supposed to believe that the great and mighty Pharaoh would have lowered himself to come rescue me out of kindness? I'm not a fool . . ." he snarled.

"You will believe as you will, Marik, but I'm telling you the truth. I need your help."

"Forget it. Just return me to my father, or whatever other hell you have planned for me."

"I won't do that," Yami said firmly, rising to his feet. "Whatever you've been told, Marik, I never ordered your family to guard my tomb. I had nothing to do with what your father did to you . . . I find it unforgivable, in fact. How any person could do that to his own son is beyond my understanding. I am not the one responsible for your pain, both past and present. If I could just give you the power you so desperately seem to want, and it wouldn't endanger the world, I would do so. But I can not . . . and until you believe that, and me, you'll never fully heal." He walked slowly to the door. "I'll leave you, for now. I need to rest . . . Bakura should be here within a few hours, after he has rested. Dark Necrofear and the Dark Magician guard the door, so you have nothing to fear . . . except yourself," he murmured, before walking out the door and leaving Marik to himself.

-----------------------------

"Damn him . . . Anubis take his soul . . ." Marik growled, struggling futilely to rise. The Pharaoh had left over an hour ago, leaving Marik to his own tormented thoughts, and he was no longer happy about that fact. Yami had said too many things that struck a chord in him . . . he had questions, and he was hell bent on getting answers out of the stubborn Pharaoh. If he had to go hunt the pointy haired pain in his ass down himself, he would.

"Keep that up, and you're only going to be here longer, moron," a voice said smugly from the doorway. Flopping back down, Marik turned to the door as much as he could . . . and groaned.

"Bakura . . ." he mumbled. "The Pharaoh is keeping you captive here too?"

"I know you aren't deaf, and I know Yami told you that he and I came to get you together."

"I figured he'd forced you," Marik shot back, shooting the Tomb Robber a glare. "You sure as hell didn't seem willing to come get me after Malik beat us and trapped me here." Bakura stepped in the room, his brown eyes growing cold.

"I had my own problems, you sniveling brat. I never asked you to invade my head, and I certainly had no interest in helping you outside of getting the Millennium Items. A one way trip to the Shadow Realm wasn't part of the deal." He stepped further into the room, settling into a chair that he called into existence near the far wall where he could keep an eye on both Marik and the door.

Sighing, Marik settled back into the bed. Since he was here, he might as well try to get some answers out of Bakura if he couldn't get his hands on the Pharaoh.

"Malik is gone . . . your revenge for your father's death is complete." Lavender eyes widened, the question in their gaze obvious. "Yami won Battle City . . . Malik is destroyed, gone for good as far as we know. He also has all three god cards . . . your sister left them in his care. The Rod . . . is with it's true owner, Seto Kaiba. Yami and I liberated your body from the hospital. You've been in a coma since Malik was banished." He folded his arms over his chest, his gaze going to the ceiling as he thought. "I believe that is everything you've missed . . . outside of our current problems."

"What problems?" Marik asked. He didn't like the tone Bakura had used and he had a feeling that these 'current problems' had something to do with why they had rescued him.

"Currently, Yami is being hunted by a man named Eliot Crawford. He seeks to possess the Pharaoh for some reason. As for Yami himself . . . the Puzzle was shattered a short time ago while he was outside of it. Since then . . . he's been powerless, unable to tap into the Shadow Powers usually at his command." Marik's eyes widened again . . . the Pharaoh without his powers was a strange occurrence indeed . . . and could make it easier to get out of here, and away from him. He refused to believe that Yami didn't have some kind of punishment in mind for his transgressions. He went to sit up, and hissed as his back flared into pain again. Bakura, surprisingly, was at his side in a moment, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hold still . . . you've opened some of the welts again. I'll need to change your bandages." Absently, he summoned more hot water and more bandages, and set about doctoring the wounds once again.

Marik relaxed under the gentle ministrations, chuckling slightly. "Never would have thought to have you playing nurse maid," he said. Bakura stopped for a moment, then cuffed him lightly in the back of the head. "Ow! Why are you doing this, anyway? What do you want with me?"

"Don't get used to me waiting on you," he said. "I just have experience in these kinds of things . . . besides which, I've discovered that Yami has a weakness to other people's pain. He couldn't tend you . . . he feels guilty enough over the state we found you in. As for what we want of you . . . I want nothing. Yami needs your help, however." Marik tried to turn to look at Bakura, but was stopped by Bakura's hand on his shoulder again.

"Never thought you'd be speaking of him as a friend and trying to help him. I thought you hated him," he said instead. Bakura sighed, and sat back for a moment.

"I did . . . but I've come to discover it was for the wrong reasons. For all this time . . . I've assumed he was something he was not. I've always respected him, albeit grudgingly. But now I find that I don't just respect him . . . I like him as well. I just had to be able to get past my false belief that he was the cause of everything wrong in my life." He continued his ministrations as he talked. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it? You're a lot like me . . . like it or not, Yami isn't the enemy. He didn't cause what happened to you . . . had he known about it, he would have stopped it if he could." Marik snorted.

"You don't get it, do you Bakura? Yami is EVERY reason for what my childhood was like! My father WORSHIPPED him!" the blonde snarled. "Because I didn't, I was beaten time and again . . . and then it was carved into my back when I was still only a boy!" He struggled to rise again, and fell back as his back flared into agony. "It's all his fault . . ." he whispered.

"You're nearly as stubborn as he is," Bakura growled, standing up suddenly. "You refuse to listen to reason . . . Yami DID NOT cause your father to be a psycho. He made the choice to do what he did to you . . . no one forced him to do it. Just as you made your choices and they landed you here. Until you come to terms with that and take the responsibility for you own actions . . . you're nothing more than a spoiled, selfish brat." His voice changed. "I told you this wasn't the best idea in the world." Marik jumped when Yami's voice answered Bakura from the doorway.

"It was our only choice and you know it," the Pharaoh murmured, stepping into the room. "I need to get back to the Puzzle, Bakura. I need to rest." Bakura nodded.

"Hold still . . ." he murmured, and promptly booted Yami out of the Shadow Realm. "I could get used to being able to do that," he said, grinning. The grin faded as he turned back to the prone figure on the bed. "You'll need to face reality sooner or later, brat," he growled. "Yami isn't the enemy . . . and the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be." He walked out of the hut.

Marik growled under his breath as he lay his head back down on the bed, his mind in chaos. Not since Malik had made himself apparent had he felt so confused. Yami had been the enemy all his life . . . the source of all his misery and pain, the reason why his father hadn't been able to love him. But if what Bakura had said was true . . . Yami had nothing to do with it. But that wasn't possible . . . was it? Unless . . . the order the protect Yami's tomb hadn't been given until after the Pharaoh had died. But who would have given the order then? He groaned as his back twinged, sending a flame up his spine. There was much to think about . . . and his back wasn't helping his concentration.

He thought back on all that he knew of the Pharaoh. Every duel, every challenge that Marik and Malik had thrown at him, he had always won . . . but at the same time, Yami had always been willing to do whatever it took to protect the people he called his friends. It didn't sit right . . . how could Yami carelessly command a family to guard his tomb, sacrificing their own lives for him, yet care for a group of teenagers so much that he would willingly risk his own life time and time again? Now that he actually faced the facts, it didn't add up.

Other facts were slowly forming in his head as well. If Yami was the calloused Pharaoh Marik's mind had made him up to be, why had he rescued him from his father? He remembered the light touch of the person who had rescued him, the tender care with which the gag had been removed as his hair was brushed back from his face . . . the Pharaoh he had come to hate wouldn't have been like that.

Marik sighed, his head beginning to hurt from the concentration he was putting it through. Yami had asked for his help . . . not demanded it, not commanded him to help him . . . but had asked for it. And he had said he would give him the power if he could . . . that wasn't the power hungry person he'd built up in his mind either. Could he possibly have been so wrong?

He had a lot to think about . . . and it looked like his thinking was going to lead to a whole lot of change in his life.