Chapter Eleven (FanFiction, why won't you let me center this? Grr!)
Caution: This chapter contains feelings and emotions - blurgh!
By the time Kiya and Bakura returned home it was exceptionally late, and the only one still up and about was Marik. He nodded to the two as they walked past him in the hall, all the while trying to hide the look of amusement that was quickly forming on his face. So Bakura had found her, he thought to himself. It hadn't taken him long. He swore that that thief had the ability to track people faster and more efficiently than any hunting dog could. Furthermore, he had a knack for being able to see the truth in people, and if he had decided to bring the Priest's wife back into his life, he must have deemed her to be of good character. Either that, Marik mused, or he just wanted to fuck her senseless one last time.
Bakura escorted Kiya back to his chambers, although she remembered all too well where it was from the last time she was there. When they got inside she was surprised at how Bakura babied her; helping her into his bed, fluffing her pillow, asking her if she was okay and if she needed anything else. He seemed different somehow, nicer, and a lot more composed. To be honest, this side of him worried her more than his usual indignant demeanour. At least when he was angry she knew what to expect. But now as he sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair behind her ear Kiya had no idea how to react. So she studied his face and how tired he looked. Taking her hand Bakura squeezed it gently. "Get some sleep," he said.
Kiya looked saddened. "You're not staying?"
He squeezed her hand again. "I'll be back soon, there's just… something I need to do first."
Without word, Kiya nodded and then watched him change out of his blood stained clothes before he left. When she was alone she rolled onto her side and clutched the pillow. Everything seemed so surreal, like an illusion, or a dream she knew she could wake from if only she could will her mind hard enough. Despite his sudden and unexpected change in manner, Kiya still wasn't sure being with him was what she wanted. Her attraction towards him had been purely physical at the time of her capture, with maybe a hint of revenge among the mix, and she had only been emotionally tied, guilty almost, after having heard the story of his family.
"Family," she whispered. A word she would soon know the true meaning of. She would learn to love unconditionally, to put another human being's needs above her own. A child needs a father as much as a mother, and she couldn't deprive her child of knowing their father more than she could deprive Bakura of knowing his child. But Bakura and his… lifestyle… didn't exactly cater to the care and welfare of a baby. Would they stay here? Could she stay here? And raise her child among these criminals? But really what did it matter is she were here or there? The trade would be in their child's blood anyway. Kiya turned over, a sense of dread washing over her. She rested her arm over her eyes and yawned widely. Though she was exhausted, both mentally and physically, she knew sleep would not come easily tonight.
...
Marik lay on his back, his hands clutched to the hips of the young woman who ground herself against his. He grunted when she picked up the pace, supporting her as she lifted herself up and down over his member. Through half closed eyes he could see her large breasts bouncing about with each movement. He felt the need to reach up and grab one but he really couldn't be bothered. Closing his eyes fully he let the sensation of sex wash over his body. Without even doing anything he was close to his release. The woman tried to encourage him on but her voice was more off putting than anything. He tried to block her out and so he focused on his breath. It was fast but rigid. The deprivation of oxygen was helping to pump adrenaline throughout his body. His mind went cloudy, sweat formed across his brow. Yes, he was close, very, very close. And then, much to his disappointment, there was a loud banging on the door.
The woman stopped suddenly, shaken by the noise. Marik grumbled and pushed her off him. He knew it was Bakura, it had to be; that man always had the worst timing. Grabbing his shendyt off the floor, Marik wrapped it back around his waist, his erection gone as quickly as it came. Marik looked back to the woman in his bed, whose naked body was now covered by his sheets. He opened the door and, as expected, Bakura stood on the other side.
"Shouldn't you be doing what I'm trying to do?" Marik growled.
Bakura looked into the room and at the frazzled blonde woman in Marik's bed. Without caring he pulled Marik into the hallway, slamming the door behind them. Bakura continued to drag Marik down the hall until he deemed it a safe enough place as any to talk. There were no pleasantries, he just cut right to the chase. "She's pregnant."
"Who?" Marik asked ignorantly.
"Tadukhipa," Bakura said in an aggravated whisper.
"What?" Marik said, genuinely shocked. Between the two of them Marik had always assumed he would be the first to bear a bastard child. He raised a brow. "Are you sure?"
Bakura crossed his arms. "That's what she told me."
"And you believe her?" he queried. "And more importantly, you believe it's yours?"
Bakura remembered back to when he placed his hands on her body and felt the gentle curve of her stomach. He wasn't a midwife but the change to her body was evident even to him after not having seen her for a few months. And in her attempt to flee, forlorn of hope, she had proved to him the baby was his, as she was not just running away to have the child, she was running away to protect that child. For if Set had ever found out the baby was not his, Bakura knew the priest wouldn't hesitate to cut it from her body before it was even born. Just the very thought made Bakura's blood boil and only when his fists clenched did he realise he hadn't yet answered Marik's questions. "I do," he said simply.
Marik rubbed his chin in thought. "Do you want my advice?"
"Yes," Bakura said all too eagerly.
"You're not going to like it," Marik warned.
"I don't care, just tell me."
"You shouldn't have slept with her."
Bakura's eyes narrowed. "That's not advice, Marik," he spat.
"I told you you weren't going to like it."
Bakura jostled him and raised his voice. "Marik this is serious!"
Marik couldn't help but laugh. Bakura, the country's most dangerous criminal, was now clinging to him with sheer terror plastered across his face. The man could take on one hundred armed men, single handed, yet the idea of fathering a child was the only thing to ever terrorise him.
"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny!" Bakura said, pulling out his knife like he always did when someone dared mock him.
"No, no, you're right," Marik agreed, still trying to stifle his laughter. He cleared his throat. "You're right. It's not funny."
Bakura lowered his weapon and then asked, "What do I do?"
"Well…" Marik thought seriously this time. "Do you want this child?"
It was a stupid question really because Marik already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Bakura say it aloud and for him to hear himself say it too. Most who thought they knew Bakura would think of him as a loner, one who despised the company of others, but he hadn't always been that way and quite frankly, he didn't want to be that way. Bakura had lost his family at an age where no child should have had to experience that kind of grief. It had left him with a hole in his heart, one he had hoped to fill when he avenged his family's deaths. Though no matter how much blood he shed over the years the void only grew, and Marik knew for a fact that the only thing that would fill it would be the love from another person.
"Of course I do," Bakura said. He would love this child more than his own life, and in turn, he would love Kiya for bearing him that child.
"Then there is nothing to do but tell her how you feel," said Marik.
Bakura knew he was right, there wasn't anything he specifically needed to do, other than to be there for her. If they were supportive of each other the rest would come naturally. Though the thought of expressing his feeling to a woman he barely knew seemed a far too daunting task.
"She's probably as scared as you," Marik tried to reassure him when he saw the colour leave his partner's face. "If not more. I mean, her whole life has just gone up in flames."
Bakura nodded slowly in agreement. He hadn't realised how selfish he was being. Of course it affected her, he knew that, but he hadn't really stopped to consider how it affected her, or her life. Marik could see Bakura was losing himself to his thoughts and he slapped him on the back. "Talk to her," Marik said. "And for Ra's sake let me get back to my chambers."
Bakura grinned. "I forgot you had company."
The two began to walk back down the hall. "She's probably left by now," Marik said.
"Who is she?" Bakura asked.
Marik shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't ask her name."
Bakura laughed. "You know if you're not careful you'll end up like me one day."
The two stopped outside Marik's chambers and Marik placed his hand in the door latch. "Well, there are worse things I could be," he said but Bakura disregarded the compliment and set off to his own chambers. "Hey!" Marik called out. Bakura turned around. "I'll find healer or a midwife or whoever the hell I can track down in the morning," he said. "You know, to get her checked out."
"I'd appreciate that," Bakura said.
"Besides," Marik continued. "You could find yourself relieved, she might just be fat."
That being said, Marik quickly retreated to his room before Bakura could find something heavy to throw at him.
...
Bakura ambled back to his own chambers, muttering under his breath. "Tell her how you feel," he mimicked Marik. The idea seemed simple enough, but to him emotions were a sign of weakness and he dared not show any. He wanted everyone to know how powerful he was and to fear him like they would a god. But... he thought, could Kiya be an exception to his rule?
When he opened his door he saw her sitting on his bed with her knees drawn to her chest. She had been staring blankly at the door, as if waiting for him. Moving closer he noticed her eyes were red and her face was swollen; she had been crying. The very thought of it hurt him. She'd been with him for no more than a few hours and already she'd been reduced to tears. Bakura sat down beside her. "I was hoping you wouldn't be awake," he confessed.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, ashamed to think she had disobeyed him already.
"Don't apologise," he said quickly. "There's no need."
Kiya lowered her legs and Bakura placed a hand on her thigh. Marik's voice echoed again in his mind. 'Just tell her how you feel.' Bakura opened his mouth to speak but Kiya beat him to it. "You don't have to do this," she said.
"Do what?" he asked.
"This," she said looking down at her stomach. "Look after me."
"But I want to."
"Do you really?" she challenged.
"Y-yes." His answer was affirmative but both sensed the hesitation in his voice. It wasn't that he was lying but rather he was afraid.
Kiya, not knowing this, took his hand off her leg. "I should go," she said but Bakura grabbed her wrist.
"No, don't. I- I want you to stay."
"Bakura you don't have to lie to me," she said, pulling her hand away. He let her go and she stood from the bed. "There's a women's shelter on the east side of the city. That's where I was headed when you found me. I'll stay there until I can come up with enough money to find somewhere else. When I do, you're welcome to visit-"
"No!" Bakura yelled. Startled by his outburst, Kiya sat back down quickly. Bakura knelt down before her so that they were now eye to eye. He held her hands tightly. "Kiya, you know about my past," he said. "And I have told you what happened to my family. What you don't know is that ever since that day all I have ever wanted was to have a family again." He paused to caress her cheek. "And now, because of you, I have that opportunity."
Kiya looked at him, her eyes full of tears. Bakura leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. When they parted Kiya didn't know what to say, and so she said the first thing that came to mind. "You just called me Kiya."
Bakura smirked. "A slip of the tongue, Tadukhipa."
She laughed through her tears and Bakura promised it wouldn't happen again.
