Ok, I feel quite guilty because this is basically another filler chapter. But the next one is packed with plot, and I am hoping to get it out later tonight (probably very late, but still) :P Anyway, try and enjoy as much as possible. - Jem

A small snuffling noise woke Bakura one night. He rolled with a muffled groan, just barely cracking his eyes open to take in one harsh glance of his still-dark room, before closing his eyes again and burying his face in the pillow, arms thrown out haphazardly. His quiet breathing filled the room for a few minutes before he realised what was wrong – Marik wasn't there.

He was instantly alert, shooting upright with wide eyes as he searched his room for a sign of that silly Egyptian. He scoured the clothes strewn across the floor and realised that Marik's were gone, as was his medical kit. With a sigh Bakura rose, pulling on a robe as he stalked out of his room, tilting his head as he listened to the quiet apartment. The silence weighed heavily for a few moments until there was a muffled squeak from the bathroom, followed by a low hiss.

Bakura pulled the door open, moving silently, and leaned against the frame unnoticed. Marik was standing bare-chested in front of the mirror, twisted round so that he could see his back. There were tear tracks on his cheeks as he reached up with one hand, shuddering as his fingertips just lightly brushed the scarred skin, hovering carefully. His eyes never left the mirror as he reached for the medical kit, scrabbling clumsily for the bottle of salve, dropping it in his haste to get it open. It hit the floor with a dull thump and rolled lazily, coming to a stop at Bakura's feet. Marik's eyes followed it, widening when they saw Bakura, travelling slowly up his thin frame to finally meet his eyes.

Marik bit his lip, and fresh tears squeezed their way through his lids.

Bakura bent down, not breaking eye contact, and scooped up the bottle of salve before taking a step towards Marik, who backed away hesitantly, fear in his eyes. Bakura stopped short at that expression, tilting his head. It's just me, Marik – just me.

The Egyptian drew in a shuddering breath as Bakura advanced again, but he held his place, trembling slightly. He couldn't hold back a small yelp as the older teen's arms wrapped around him, bringing him forwards into his chest and kissing the top of his head. "It's ok, Marik" he breathed into his hair, hands carefully avoiding the scars as he held him close.

Marik shook his head, voice muffled as he replied "No it isn't."

Bakura took hold of his shoulders, holding him at arm's length and regarding him sternly. "Why?"

Marik's eyes hardened. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No." Bakura was firm. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"Everything's wrong with me," Marik mumbled, expression hopeless.

Bakura growled softly. "You do not sound like you at the moment. Wake up, Marik."

"What?" Marik stared at him dejectedly. "This is who I am now. I can't move past this; I can't forget it."

"I don't want you to," Bakura replied simply.

Marik's jaw fell open slightly, eyes clouded with pain. "You want this? You want me to be in pain?"

"Of course not..."

"Because that's what I will be!" Marik pulled away from him, shaking his head angrily. "These damn scars will always hurt, and I'll never be able to forget how I got them, who gave them to me..." He shuddered, drawing in a heavy breath, chest heaving. "And you don't want me to forget? You want them?"

Bakura folded his arms. "You misunderstood."

"Oh, really?" Marik's voice dripped. "You'd better explain then because I can never forget this..." he choked and stopped, squeezing his eyes shut. "This frigging' hell that I'm gonna have to live in now, constantly reminded of my failure, my pain, when all I was trying to do was live an actual damn life, not just stay locked up in that frigging house like my siblings seem oh-so-happy to do, never mind that my blood still stains the carpet..."

Bakura took his shoulders again as the tears started falling, and he drew him back into his chest. Marik struggled, trying to pull away, but Bakura just pulled him closer, waiting for him to calm down a little. When the gasping breaths had stilled somewhat he took his shoulders again, and made to turn him round.

Marik froze. Fear touched his eyes.

Bakura lifted his thumb and gently brushed Marik's cheek. It's just me.

Marik blinked, going limp and reluctantly allowing Bakura to turn him around, squeezing his eyes shut as he bared his back for him to see.

Bakura just stared for a moment. The scars had only healed in the sense that they were no longer bleeding – the deep gashes were still painfully obvious, the tan skin still stretched and scraped unnaturally as Marik's shoulders shivered with his sobs. Bakura held him steady before slowly, agonisingly, moving one fingertip to brush the first scar.

Marik went rigid.

Bakura kissed the back of his head as his finger traced the pattern. "I don't want you to forget them," he breathed gently, "Because they are now a part of you. These scars brought you to my door, and to my house. I will never be sorry for that."

Marik didn't move.

Bakura stepped back slightly, uncapping the bottle of salve and dipping his fingers in it, tracing the scars lightly once more, feeling Marik relax imperceptibly this time. When he was done he put the salve back in the medical kit and placed it in the cupboard above the sink, surprised when arms wrapped around his waist. Marik rested his head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

Bakura just smirked, turning around and pulling him close. "Just don't disappear in the middle of the night again. You need help, ask for it. Got it?"

Marik closed his eyes and leaned into him. "Got it."

School the next day was slightly better. The other students eventually took the hint that Marik wanted to be left alone (after the third broken nose, anyway) so Ryou and he spent the day passing notes and talking, deliberately avoiding the topic of the upcoming trial, instead laughing at their classmates and their work. Ryou had English just before lunch, but his class were let out early so he got to the bench before Marik, sitting down with a sigh. Yugi waved at him from the next bench, and he smiled. The smile turned strained when Tea turned round.

"Hey Ryou!" She bounded over to him with a grin. "What's up?"

"Um..." he smiled tentatively. "Nothing?"

She laughed brightly. "So how's Marik doing? We're all really worried about him."

Ryou blinked. "Oh, he's fine. Really. No need to worry."

"Well he always seems to snap at everyone..." she trailed off, frowning slightly. "Um, Ryou, is...is that guy staring at me?"

"What?" He blinked at her, confused.

She laughed slightly. "Over there, by the gate...I swear he's looking right at me..."

Ryou blinked and turned to look where she was pointing. A familiar tall figure with long white hair leaned casually against the gate, and he was indeed staring straight at them. Ryou laughed a little nervously. "Oh, ignore him. He's an idiot."

"You know him?" Tea looked over hopefully. "He's really hot. And I think he's still staring...maybe I should go over..."

"No!" Ryou jumped up instantly. "Trust me Tea, you don't want to...do...that..." he trailed off as she strode determinedly over to the gate. This cannot end well. Hurrying after her he caught Yugi's eye, and the short teen joined him. "What's she doing?"

Ryou laughed slightly. "She got the wrong end of the stick. That's my brother..."

Tea heard and stopped, turning to look hopefully at him. "Your brother? Ooh, I bet he has an accent just like yours! Please, can you introduce me?"

Ryou let out a nervous huff of laughter. "That really isn't a good idea..."

"I'd like to meet him too, Ryou," Yugi said. "Please?"

"Really, you aren't going to want to talk to him..."

Tea turned on her heel and continued towards the gate. "Come on Ryou! I can't talk to a complete stranger without an introduction!"

Bakura was within hearing distance now, and lifted an eyebrow at his little brother. Ryou ran towards him, overtaking Tea and whirling to eye her nervously, standing right in front of his brother. "Um, Tea, you should probably go back now, I've got this..."

"But I came all the way over here to meet him!" She narrowed her eyes at him. "The least you can do is at least introduce us."

Yugi caught up, panting slightly. "Please, Ryou?"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked nervously up at Bakura. "Sorry, they saw you staring..."

He rolled his eyes. "I was not staring. I was trying to catch your attention."

Tea squealed slightly. "Ooh, his accent is even stronger than yours!"

Bakura looked mildly surprised before a smirk spread over his face. "I didn't know you had a fan girl, Ryou."

"I don't!" He jumped in shock. "That's just Tea, she's a bit..."

Tea interrupted by thrusting her hand in Bakura's face. "I'm Tea, Ryou's friend!" She gushed. "When he told me he had an older brother I knew I just had to meet you!"

Bakura just stared at her hand.

She wasn't dissuaded, of course. "So, you came over from England? That's so exciting! Is it much different from here?"

Ryou said a silent prayer of thanks when they were spared his brother's answer by the appearance of a blonde Egyptian who tore across the tarmac towards them, panting slightly as he threw himself at the older teen, ignoring Tea's shocked expression. "Bakura!"

The older teen laughed slightly, wrapping his arms around him. "Well, hello there."

Marik just giggled. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking you up, of course." Bakura looked over his shoulder to catch Tea's disbelieving stare, deciding in that moment to have some fun. He drew Marik back by the shoulders before taking his chin in one hand and kissing him firmly. Marik was a little surprised at first, before he eagerly returned it, wrapping his arms around Bakura's neck.

Tea turned slightly green, and Yugi looked away to hide his smile. Ryou just laughed nervously. "I'm so sorry about him..."

Tea just sniffed before turning on her heel and walking hurriedly away, Yugi following.

Bakura opened one eye and finally released Marik when he saw them walk away, turning to glare at his brother. "What the hell was that?"

"They just stormed over here!" Ryou breathed out. "Tea saw you staring and got the wrong idea."

Marik frowned. "She wasn't coming on to you, was she?"

Bakura snorted. "What, jealous Marik? She's the one who turned green."

"As long as she knows you're not available," Marik huffed, gripping his waist possessively.

"She does after that!" Ryou stared despairingly at the pair. "What are you even doing here, 'Kura?"

The older teen sighed, avoiding Marik's gaze. "I called that solicitor. He wants to meet Marik this afternoon."

Marik paused. "...ok."

"That easy?" Bakura laughed. "I thought you were going to scream at me again."

"...No." Marik pulled away with a grin. "Not yet, anyway. So we're going?"

"Yep. Come on."

Ryou frowned. "Um, Marik...are you really just going to walk out of school?"

"I've skived before," he waved him away. "And the teachers keep going on at me that if I need time off that's fine."

Ryou just shook his head. "You have been spending far too much time with my brother."

Bakura growled softly. "Watch it, Ryou. And get back to class, you're going to be late."

"What, so Marik can skip but if I'm late you're going to yell at me?"

"Pretty much." Bakura flashed him a sharp grin. "Go on, be off with you."

Ryou sighed loudly before turning and stalking away.

Marik wriggled impatiently as they sat waiting outside of the solicitor's office. The room was warm so he had removed his school jacket, bunching the material in his lap as he nervously chewed on his lower lip. Bakura, by contrast, was the epitome of calm as he relaxed back in his seat, arms folded nonchalantly, stealing the occasional sideways glance at his Egyptian partner, who's knee was now jigging up and down.

Bakura eventually snapped. "Is it completely beyond your capabilities to sit still?"

Marik sent him a glare. "Well, sor-ry! I'm a little nervous, alright?"

"I can tell," Bakura deadpanned. "But jumping around like a scared rabbit is not going to help."

"I am nothing like a rabbit!"

"Just calm down." Bakura sounded faintly amused at Marik's indignation. "And what's wrong with being like a rabbit?"

Marik glared. "If anyone's the rabbit here it's you, Fluffy."

Bakura scoffed. "Oh please. Rabbits are cute; I could never be cute."

"I beg to differ," Marik sniffed, sticking his nose in the air.

Bakura glanced sideways at him. "You know, actually I think rabbits are a bit too big for you. Hamster might be better."

Marik's expression grew dangerous. "What the hell are you trying to say?"

"Or a mouse."

Marik whacked him on the arm. "I am nothing like a mouse."

Bakura just smiled serenely. "You think that if it makes you happy."

"Well, if we're comparing each other to animals I know exactly what you would be."

Bakura lifted an eyebrow. "Do go on."

Marik smirked, lifting a hand to run his fingers through the puffy strands of white hair that refused to lie flat. "With these kitty ears you're obviously a cat."

A hard stare was all he got in reply.

"Marik Ishtar?" The solicitor poked his head out of the door, smiling when the Egyptian stood up. "Come on through. Your friend is very welcome too, of course."

They took seats in front of the desk, and Marik looked cautiously at the solicitor, his nerves returning with full force. Bakura laid a hand on his thigh, quietly reassuring, and Marik shot him a grateful smile.

The solicitor cleared his throat. "Right, well I'm sure you're aware that we're here to discuss your appearance as a witness. Am I correct in thinking that it is the trial of your father?"

Marik nodded once. The solicitor hummed slightly, clicking away at his computer. "Yes, I see. So, have you been in a court before?"

"No," Marik licked his lips. "I don't really know what to do..."

"That's what I'm here for," The solicitor smiled. "Well, the hearing next week is just preliminary, so all you'll have to do is announce that you're willing to stand up in court as a witness for the prosecution – your name will be read out, and you'll just have to say that you agree to the terms of court. The actual trial won't be held until January."

"Oh..." Marik frowned. "So my dad will still be free?"

"Well, I don't know about that," the solicitor sent him a searching look. "His lawyers will no doubt file for bail, but looking at what he's charged with I'd say the chances of it being granted are pretty low."

"So he'll still be locked up?"

"Well, I can't say for sure but I would expect so."

Marik nodded, looking satisfied. "Good. And I hope they throw away the key."

The solicitor coughed. "Yes, well. When it comes to the actual trial you will be questioned in much more detail – is it correct that you want to appear in court, not as a screened witness?"

"Yes."

The solicitor nodded, tapping away at his computer. "Right, well that makes it easier on the jury. They like to see the faces of victims. So, you will be questioned first by the prosecuting barrister and then by the defence – they will want to go into a lot of detail, but if it any point you are uncomfortable or upset, or you just want to stop, a break can be called. Got that?"

"Got it." Marik swallowed. "So, I just answer they're questions."

"Yes. You'll be under oath, of course, so you must tell the truth, though I'm sure you would have anyway."

"I have no reason to lie," he mumbled. "I just want it over with."

The solicitor smiled sympathetically. "Yes, I'm sure. Do you have any other questions?"

Marik shook his head, but Bakura answered. "How long will the trial take?"

The solicitor blinked slightly. "Oh, um...most likely no more than a week, depending on the number of witnesses called. In light of the evidence, however, I can't see it taking too long."

"Evidence?" Marik's voice was cautious.

"Yes – I believe there are scars on your back? You may have to show the court..."

"I have to show them?" Marik sounded horrified. "What? Why?"

Bakura moved his hand to Marik's arm, rubbing soothingly. "Calm down, Marik."

"Calm down?" The Egyptian's eyes were a little wild. "I can't strip in court!"

The solicitor held back a smile. "It's just your back – so they can see exactly what your father did to you."

Marik squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't want to do that. I don't even want to think about them..."

Bakura wrapped his arm around the shaking teen's shoulders. "Calm down. It will get him sent away forever. And I'll be right there with you, alright?"

Marik just sniffed, leaning into his shoulder. "Promise?"

"Like I'd miss this," he scoffed. "That man should be killed for what he did to you."

Marik flashed him a small smile before sitting up and turning back to the solicitor, who had watched them curiously. "Well, I suppose I can manage it. Is that all?"

He coughed slightly, turning back to his computer. "Ah – yes, that's all I wanted to cover. You can go now, if you like, and don't be late to court – check the dress code as well, it's usually all black."

"But that clashes so much with my skin," Marik mumbled, making Bakura laugh.

"Come on, time to go," he chuckled. "Ryou will be home by now."

Marik turned back to thank the solicitor before following him out of the office, hurrying back through the streets to arrive at the flat again and trying not to think of the courtroom ordeal awaiting him next week.

When they got home Odion and Ryou were already cooking happily, Odion demonstrating how to spice food Egyptian-style. "'Kura, you have to learn how to do this!" The white haired teen cried happily. "It tastes amazing!"

"That's Odion for you," Marik smiled tiredly. "He's always been good."

Odion feigned shock. "A compliment, brother? From you?"

Marik whacked him with his fork. "Watch it, bro. I can still take you in a fight."

"I don't doubt it." Marik could hear the smile in his voice and looked away huffily. "Anyway, how was the solicitor?"

Marik bumped his head on the table. "Can we please not talk about it? I don't want to have to think about that trial anymore."

"Of course," Odion masked his worry with a smile. "You know Ishizu and I are witnesses too? So you won't be on your own."

"Of course he won't be," Bakura growled. "Because I'll be there too."

"And me," Ryou piped up, determination written all over his face.

Marik sent them all a small smile. "Thanks. But can we please change the subject? I don't want to think about it."

Bakura winked. "I can think of a way to take your mind off it, but I don't think we'll want company."

Marik flushed deeply and Ryou grimaced. "'Kura please! Trying to eat here!"

Bakura just grinned impishly. "Whatever."

Odion shook his head. "I don't know what Marik sees in you."

"Sometimes I wonder about that too," Marik mumbled, earning a whack from Bakura. "Ow!"

Bakura ignored him. "Grow up, kid."

"I am not a friggin' kid, oldie!"

"Sure." Bakura flashed him a sharp-toothed grin. "So stop acting like one then."

Marik's expression grew dangerous. "Watch it, Kitty."

Bakura dropped his fork. "Do not get me started on that again."

"Whatever, Fluffy." Marik turned back to his food with a grin as Bakura hit his forehead with his palm.

Odion laughed. "Well played, brother."

Ryou giggled. "Those names kind of suit you 'Kura. Maybe I should start using them more often..."

"Do it and you die."

"Bakura," Marik smiled sweetly at him, widening his eyes. "Will you please go and find a nice film for us to watch? No horror this time – I want to be cheered up."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Horror would cheer you up."

"No, Fluffy – it would cheer you up. So pick something nice, please?"

"No."

Marik pouted, staring at him with shining eyes. "Please?"

"I...no...ugh, fine." Bakura stamped out of the room with a growl. "But you're washing up."

"There's a good kitty," Marik grinned, swallowing the last of his food and ignoring the stream of curses from the living room and the guffaws of Ryou and Odion beside him.

That night Marik lay curled up beside Bakura, head resting on his chest as he worried his lower lip. "Did you mean it earlier?"

"Hm?" Bakura was half asleep as he answered. "Mean what?"

"That you'll come with me to court?"

Bakura opened one eye to send him a glare. "Of course I bloody well meant it. As if I'd let you go there on your own."

Marik smiled slightly. "It's just – I don't know if...if I'll be able to..." he winced, and his back burned.

Bakura seemed to understand, his fingertips lightly ghosting over Marik's scars. "It's nothing to worry about. No one will be judging you."

Marik shuddered slightly. "It's just the idea of all those people looking at me...I don't know if I can cope..."

"Don't think of all the people." Bakura pulled him closer. "And get over yourself. You'll be fine."

Marik snorted. "You don't do sympathy very well, do you?"

"Nope." Bakura grinned.

Marik sighed. "I guess I shouldn't expect anything different."

"Too right, Ishtar."

"Seriously," Marik leaned up slightly to meet his eyes. "Do you have an aversion to saying my name or something?"

"Ishtar is your name, stupid."

"Marik is my name, stupid." He rolled his eyes slightly, leaning back down on his chest. "It wouldn't kill you to use it once in a while."

Bakura snorted softly. "You're one to talk. What's with calling me fluffy all the time?"

Marik grinned mischievously, fingering his white hair again. "Because you are fluffy."

"I'm not bloody fluffy." Bakura grinned and swiped at Marik's sides, making him squirm. "You, however, are ticklish."

Marik whacked him, laughing. "Stop it. I'm tired."

"Go to sleep then."

"I would if you shut up."

Bakura just grinned and pulled him closer. "I'll be quiet now. Sleep, kid."

Marik just sent him a tired glare before closing his eyes and settling into sleep.

So yeah, sorry that chapter was so dull. But next one makes up for it, I hope! And I will have it out as soon as I can! Bear with me :P - Jem