Here we go with Chapter 2, things get a little darker and a little more intense.

Trigger Warning: Needles

Yu-Gi-Oh! and all related characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi

"The leaves of memory seemed to make, a mournful rustling in the dark."

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Chapter 2: Lines Across My Skin

"I wish you would stop trying to do this to yourself…"

"What does it matter to you?"

"What does it matter to me? Oh that's very funny…hilarious…it's not like it's my job or anything, let alone you're my family!"

Marik groaned softly. His body felt like it was a lead weight, heavy and immobile. The sounds of the other room's occupants were slowly bringing him back to awareness. Though from the sounds of it, now probably wasn't the best time to say he was awake. So he lay there, feigning sleep for a little longer so as to hear the conversation.

"…You weren't there. You didn't see the look in her eyes…"

"I know you've been struggling with her death, but you need to start letting it go. For your own-"

"No! I won't let it go! I won't let her go…"

"Ryou…"

"Just leave me alone!"

A sigh, "Alright…we'll talk more about it later then."

Footsteps drew near his bed before veering off to the side. Marik carefully cracked one eye open to see who it was. Through the thick of his eyelashes, Marik could make out a doctor's coat and a plume of white hair. Hassan had stopped to talk to a nurse a short distance away.

"Until he's calmed down, I want him on watch for the rest of the day. Give him an extra dose of his medication if he seems like he's getting worse."

Until who calmed down? Marik pondered. He thought for a brief moment before opening his eyes the rest of the way. He turned his head to face the doctor and nurse, calling out Hassan's name to get his attention. Dr. Bakura looked at the bed and walked over. He bent down so as to be on eye level with the boy as he spoke to him, "You gave me a scare earlier. Feeling any better?"

"I…I guess," Marik sighed, "Who were you talking with just now?"

"The nurse?"

The boy shook his head, "No...what was the name you said…R something?"

"Ah…I'll tell you later. Do you need anything right now?"

"Um…water, I guess."

Hassan nodded, getting up off the floor, "I'll be right back," he said heading out of the room to fetch the drink. Marik sighed and attempted to sit up a bit. He found the task to be very taxing, as his whole body still felt like he had weights attached to his limbs. The Nurse saw him struggling and asked if he wanted assistance, but he declined; wanting to do it himself. By the time he had managed to get into a relatively comfortable position, Dr. Bakura had come back with a bottle of water for him. Hassan cracked the seal on the cap releasing the trapped air with a pop-fizz, and handed him the open bottle. Marik nodded his thanks, and sipped it slowly so as not to move his arms around too much. When he'd had his fill, he handed the bottle back to the doctor. Hassan nodded and capped it, setting it on the end table next to Marik's bed.

"Anything else?" he asked. Marik shook his head no, and Hassan nodded, "If you need anything else, just ask Nurse Mazaki. I have some other patients I need to attend to right now. Try to focus on feeling better, alright?"

"Yeah, okay…"

"That goes for you as well," Hassan said sternly to another patient in the room. With a parting pat on the shoulder, the doctor left the room, white coat and hair swishing out behind him. Marik smiled slightly until he heard someone speak from a few beds down, "'Try to focus on feeling better'…what a load of crap…" the voice spat out.

Marik blinked and looked over at the one who spoke and had to do a double take. For a moment he thought it was Hassan sitting up in the other bed due to the other boy having the same white hair as the doctor. But the look-a-like was in hospital robes, and unlike Hassan, his eyes were a very vibrant shade of green. The other boy noticed him staring and glared back, "What are you staring at?" he growled.

Marik shrunk back a little under his gaze, "You just…look a lot like Doctor Bakura."

"My uncle…" he snorted, looking up at the ceiling.

"Oh! I didn't know he was your uncle-"

"And I'd be happy if you didn't remind me," the other boy snapped, cutting Marik off.

"Sorry…" Marik replied sheepishly. He twiddled his thumbs for a moment before trying to strike the conversation back up once more, "I'm Marik, by the way."

"Ryou…" the other boy grumbled as he crossed his arms, looking over towards the window.

Biting his lip, Marik wracked his thoughts more, looking for other ways to keep the conversation going. He glanced over at Ryou once more, studying him a little closer. He blinked when he glanced over his arms. His entire left forearm was wrapped tightly in gauze. Curiosity got the better of him, and before he really had a chance to think about the words, he blurted them out.

"What happened to your arm?"

Ryou seemed to flinch at his question, hiding the arm underneath his blanket, "Nothing…it's nothing."

"If it's nothing, then why did you cover it up?" Marik asked, bemused.

"Because it's also none of your business!" he snapped back in response.

Cringing a bit, Marik mumbled a reply, "I…was just wondering…"

"Well how would you like it if I started asking you uncomfortable questions?" When Marik didn't reply, Ryou did, "I didn't think so…"

"Sorry…" he almost whispered, looking down at his lap, "Um…" Marik fumbled over the right words. He was really trying to keep the conversation from dying since he hadn't spoken to anyone aside from Dr. Bakura since he'd arrived at this hospital. But the other boy looked like he was in a really bad mood, and Marik decided asking him why he was in here at that moment probably wasn't the best idea. So they sat there in silence, Marik quietly looking around the room, glancing from time to time at Ryou. At one point he saw Ryou with a little activity book, doing some sort of number puzzle by the looks of it. Marik frowned, straining his neck a bit to try and get a closer look. When that didn't work, he decided to try getting up. His limbs didn't feel nearly as heavy as before, and he felt a little light-headed upon standing, but he was able to slowly make his way to the other boy's cot.

Ryou didn't look up when he approached, looking like he might be trying to ignore the other boy until he finally spoke, "Why don't you go find something else to do instead of bothering me? I'm busy…"

"What exactly is it you're busy with? I've never seen a puzzle like this before."

"What, you live under a rock your whole life? It's Sudoku."

"Sue-doe-koo?"

Ryou sighed, rubbing the bridge between his eyes, "You'll leave me alone if I show you?"

Marik nodded, smiling a little as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Ryou's mouth creased into a slight frown as he looked back at the open page of the book, "Right…so you play Sudoku by filling in the blank spaces in the grid. You can only use the numbers one through nine, and they can't repeat in either the horizontal or vertical rows."

"Huh?"

Ryou looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment before turning back to the book, "Okay. So this row here," he drug his finger along one of the horizontal lines, "This row can only have one of each number in it. So if I were to put a one in this box for this row, then I couldn't put it in this other box further down the row. Make sense?"

"Yeah…I sort of get it."

The white-haired boy bit his lip a bit, seeming to lose himself in thought before replying, "Did you…want to try one?"

Marik's eyes lit up and he nodded. Ryou nodded back and handed the book after flipping to one of the beginner pages. He handed Marik the crayon he had been using and watched as the blonde-haired boy attempted to figure it out. There was a lot of crossing out, frustrated growls, and a point where Marik looked like he might chuck the book across the room. Finally he managed to get through one row, grinning to himself. Ryou looked over at his work, and smiled slightly, "Not bad…now try the rest of it."

Marik's grin disappeared faster than rabbit with hounds at its heels, and he quietly handed Ryou back the book. To his surprise though, the other boy started to chuckle a bit. Marik blinked and stared at his formally stoic acquaintance, almost wondering if he was dreaming again. But his face soon returned to its former stupor, leaving Marik to awkwardly twiddle his thumbs some more. After a minute of silence, Ryou finally looked up from the puzzle book again, "I thought you agreed to leave me be after that?"

"O-oh…okay. Um, Ryou?"

"What?"

"Would you maybe…play a game with me later?"

Ryou glanced at him from the corner of his eye, glaring slightly, "I'll think about it…"

Marik grinned at him, bounced a bit on the edge of the bed before hopping off and heading back over to his own. Ryou scoffed, rolling his eyes before going back to his book. Marik made his way back to the bed and climbed back in. He let his eyes slip closed, smiling a little to himself. But his mouth slowly fell, as his mind recalled the dream he'd had earlier. He felt his stomach squirm uncomfortably, and he clenched the blanket of his bed tighter around himself. Why did he keep having such horrible dreams? Could what Hassan have told him been true? Could he really have killed his father? No, that was ridiculous. Even if he had, what reason was there? Sure his father could be stern at times, but he wasn't unreasonable. He was kind, caring, and he treated him and his siblings with love.

Love isn't exactly the word I would use…

Marik's eyes shot open. He looked around his bed. Around the room; Ryou was still in his bed, the nurse across the room talking with another patient. There wasn't anyone who could have said anything to him. It had sounded right in his ear, like someone had been whispering loudly to him. Marik swallowed, his throat feeling dry, and he whispered back to the disembodied voice, "Who said that?"

The boy waited, and waited, but no reply came to him. A cool chill ran down his back, and he bundled the blanket even tighter around himself. Maybe he'd just imagined it. Maybe he'd fallen asleep for a brief moment. Maybe his father was a ghost and trying to speak to him…

"Now you're getting ahead of yourself…" Marik muttered aloud, "Ghosts? Really?"

Snorting at how ridiculous his own thoughts were being he turned over and stared at the door. As the minutes began to crawl by, he felt his eyes getting heavy again. But he didn't want to sleep. Not after before. Not after having slept so much already. Growling, he clamped down on the inside of his cheek in an effort to keep himself awake. The sharp pain nearly made him yelp, but didn't seem to do much in waking him up. He sat up once more, taking some gulps of the water Hassan had brought him earlier. No change. Marik sighed; his head flopping back down on the pillow. Maybe sleep wasn't the option he wanted, but at the moment it was better than nothing. He counted backwards from one hundred. He made it to about eighty-five before the familiar darkness returned to him.

A few hours later, Marik would find himself waking up once more. The room was much darker than he recalled it being before. He looked towards the windows and sure enough it was night time. He sighed and sat up, looking over at the bed Ryou had been occupying before. He felt his heart sink when the other boy was not there. He'd hoped to have someone to talk to, but such was his current predicament. Pulling the covers off himself, Marik swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. He walked over to the window, hugging his sides, and stared up at the half moon that dominated the sky. The boy wondered, could his father see him now? Was he in some sort of afterlife? Looking upon him with pity? Anger?

Shame?

There was that whispering voice again. Marik whipped around, hoping to catch who had spoken this time. But once again, there was no one there. Breathing hard, he gulped and called to the voice like he had before. He waited, and for a moment he felt like nothing would happen again.

"Who keeps doing that? Stop hiding and show me who you really are…"

"Show you who I am? If you'd paid any attention at all, you'd have figured it out already…" the voice hushed in his ear, the feeling of hot breath caressing his skin. A pair or arms lunged out from behind; one hand coming up to cover his mouth, muffling his startled cry, the other grabbed him around the middle, pulling his body closer to that of the unknown person. Marik struggled, but found the other's grip to be like iron.

A pair of lips brushed the cup of his ear as the other pulled closer to him, "Remember that time back then? When they put you to sleep? Or have you forgotten that like you do everything else?"

Forgotten everything else? What did this other person mean by that? Marik didn't have time to process the words as a warm, wet tongue licked up the side of his ear. And he somehow found the strength to jerk free. When he spun around to face the other however, he found that he was alone, and that his right arm was clenched around his middle, and his left hand was cupped around his mouth. Breathing hard, his hand on his mouth shot up to his ear. It was dry. But he could still feel the sensation of the other boy's tongue.

"No…this is just another dream. You're not real. Do you hear me?!"

"Marik, are you alright? What are you doing out of bed?"

Freezing, Marik looked over his shoulder. It was the nurse from before. What had Hassan said her name was? Mazaki? She was wearing scrubs that were a light shade of pink, and a concerned frown. She walked over to him, bending down and reaching a hand on his forehead, "Do you feel warm at all?"

Marik swatted her hand away, "Don't touch me …I'm fine…"

"Well there's no need to get rude with me," she snapped back, "I'm only making sure you're not ill."

Huffing, Marik looked away, back towards the window. Nurse Mazaki sighed, "Come on, let's get you back to bed, Alright?"

It took Marik a minute to respond, "Where's Ryou gone?" He asked, turning back to her.

"I discharged him back to his room a few hours ago. He's fine, not to worry," she smiled.

Nodding, Marik made his way back over to the bed. He paused before pulling the blanket over himself, "Nurse Mazaki?"

"Yes?"

"When I leave the Infirmary, will I have to go back to that room again?"

"Which room?"

"The one that I first woke up in…I think Doctor Bakura said it was in the seclusion ward?"

The nurse tucked the blanket in around him, "It's not up to me. But I'll let the Doctor know what you told me, Alright?"

Marik nodded, lying back down on the pillow. She patted his head before walking back to the Nurses' desk a short distance away. Sighing, Marik turned over several times, attempting to get comfortable. But his sleep was fitful through the rest of the night, his mind too wary to find rest. All he could think about was that person who grabbed him. It had happened when he was awake; wide awake, with no one else near him. He would look back and recall falling out a few times, but it was never for long. When Hassan came to check up on him that morning he felt absolutely horrible.

"Marik, are you feeling alright?"

"Didn't sleep good…" he muttered in reply, rubbing his heavy eyelids.

Hassan frowned, "If you need to rest more-"

Marik shook his head quickly. Though he was tired, sleep was the last thing he wanted, "Doctor Bakura, can I…go outside?"

The doctor thought for a moment before replying, "I suppose some fresh air wouldn't hurt. But I need you to do something first."

Marik blinked, "What is it?"

"I still need to take your vitals and make sure everything is up to date. After that, I'll take you outside. Sound reasonable?"

"Yeah…okay."

The doctor brought some equipment over to him a short while later. He took his temperature, blood pressure, and tested his reflexes. When he had finally finished all the usual tests, he turned away for a moment to grab something, "Alright Marik, I just need one last thing."

Marik frowned, trying to glance over his shoulder, "What kind of thing?"

Doctor Bakura turned back to him, snapping a pair of white rubber gloves on his hands, "I need a blood sample."

Marik bit his lip, but nodded, extending his arm out for the doctor. Hassan wrapped a tunicate just above the crook of his elbo, and Marik began to slowly lose feeling in his fingers. The doctor tapped on his arm, then wiped the area with a small alcohol pad, "You're going to feel a slight pressure here, alright?"

He nodded again as Hassan turned to grab the syringe. When he caught sight of the needle, he turned his head. The needle entered his skin, and he hissed with disdain, his eyes clamping shut. After a moment, he hesitantly cracked one eye back open to look down at his arm. He caught sight of the blood being pulled into the syringe, and tried to look away from it again. But he felt himself almost transfixed by it as his head began to buzz.

Marik…Marik, what are you doing? Put that down! Marik!

The sound of screaming erupted in his ears, making his head spin even more. He screeched and slapped at the doctor's hands on his arm, the syringe ripping out from his flesh, causing the entry point to start gushing. Hands flew up to his ears as he tried blocking out the relentless noise that only continued to grow louder; blood soaking his sleeve and dripping down into his lap.

"Hey, hey! Easy! Marik, what's wrong?"

He barely heard Hassan over the ringing in his ears that was joined by the sound of his own screaming. The doctor grabbed his wrists, but Marik pulled away, his legs seeming to have a mind of their own as he fled from the room trying to escape the screaming; trying to hide. There were footsteps thundering behind him, and he ran faster. Pushing past a few other patients and nurses roaming the halls and nearly tripping over his pant legs, he made his way through a set of doors. He didn't get much farther than that. Marik felt himself smack into something, sending both parties on a collision course with the floor.

"Watch where you're going, you clumsy-Marik?"

Shaking, Marik sat up a bit and looked over at the person he'd run into. It was hard to make out exactly who he was looking at through the film of tears in his eyes, but from the white hair and the tone of voice, Marik knew it had to be the boy he met the other day: Ryou. He must have looked a mess because Ryou moved closer, sounding concerned.

"Hey, what's wrong with you? Why are you…is that blood?"

The other boy sounded somewhat faint over the screaming still ringing in his ears, but he could still make out what he had said, "Make it stop…" he choked out behind his tears.

"What, the blood?"

"Screaming…make it stop…please…" Marik begged reaching out a pair of shaking hands and grabbed hold of Ryou's hospital shirt.

"No one's screaming…what's wrong with you?"

Marik had clamped his hands tightly over his ears in another vain attempt to stop the noise. He was muttering loudly to himself, "I didn't kill him! I didn't kill anyone! Father, stop screaming! Stop it!"

"Hey! Calm down, kid!" Ryou grabbed hold of Marik's shoulders and shook him hard, "Get a hold of yourself!"

Marik's eyes slammed shut and he screamed. The boy felt his mind reeling, and he forced them back open. But when he did, nothing was the same. Ryou was gone. In fact, the entire hospital was gone. In front of him, in the dimly lit room, was a stone wall. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light change, and made to rub his eyes until his wrists sprung back against his own weight. His shoulders suddenly ached, as if he'd been sleeping in an awkward position for several hours. When he looked up, Marik saw what the cause was: his hands were shackled close together and raised above his head.

His mouth hung in disbelief and he pulled against the chains, trying to see if they would give. But the bracers were solid; no way out. Maybe I can slip my hands through? He pondered this for a minute, pointing his fingers straight out and gave a good, solid tug. Nothing. Head hung in defeat, Marik swayed in silence a few moments longer before he heard hushed voices behind him. Straining his neck to get a glimpse of who was speaking, Marik could faintly make out the shapes of two people at the cell door, but not much more than that.

"Who's there?!"

Marik's question made them pause, and a moment later there was the sound of a key scraping in the lock of the door. The boy bit his lip, wishing he hadn't said anything as two sets of footsteps drew nearer to him. Though before he could utter a word, a cut of cloth came across his mouth and was forced between his teeth. He nearly choked from his tongue getting shoved towards the back of his throat. Crying out, Marik began to squirm in protest, which only succeeded in earning him a solid smack across the back of his head. Momentarily concussed, Marik felt himself grow still as the person behind him grabbed hold of the back of his clothes.

Something sharp loudly split the fabric down the middle, and the flaps of his robe where pulled open exposing the skin of his back and shoulders. By the time he realized what had happened, he felt the sting of sharp barbs and heard the crack of leather as the flail made contact with his flesh. Marik screamed into the gag, the sound muffled into a quiet whimper. Again is struck him, and he bit down on the gag to keep from making a sound again. Maybe if he stayed quiet, whoever was whipping him would stop. But it seemed even that was in vain, as he continued to be hit. Tears pooled in his eyes, trickling down his cheeks with each continued strike of the flail. After a while, the pain began to bleed into a dull rawness, and Marik felt himself being lost in a red haze of neither pain nor comfort. Finally, the other occupant in the room spoke up.

"That's enough."

Obediently, the one with the flail stopped as commanded. Marik faintly wondered why the voice sounded familiar to him as the voice commanded him be released from the shackles. He looked up as he felt the man grab hold of his wrists and unlock him from the restraints. Weakly, Marik's knees smacked into the stone floor, and he sat there on his hands and knees shaking.

"Bring me the water and the medicinal herbs."

There was a shuffling of feet as the other person left the room and returned a moment later. Marik didn't look up to see him leave or return, too focused on breathing through the pain; on ignoring the trickles of warm blood running down his back. Someone sat down behind him and spoke, "It's alright Marik, it's over with. Come here so I can clean those cuts."

Marik didn't budge at the command. The scent of blood filled the room; his blood. He felt like he was going to be sick any moment. And his skin felt so raw, as if he'd been wrapped in a cloak made of hot coals. The voice sounded again, "Marik, sit back. It's alright." The other man placed a hand on his shoulder and Marik slowly looked in his direction. He felt his stomach clench when he was it was Atem. He found the strength to remove the gag from his mouth, "You…did you tell that guy to do this to me?!"

Atem's eyes softened as he reached to grab a damp cloth from the bowl of water beside his knee, "I know it may have hurt Marik," he crooned, wringing out the excess water from it, "But I told you already, what I've done, and what I did, was done out of love."

Marik hissed as the cloth came into contact with the open wounds on his back, and he pulled away slightly, "You've got a really gross way of showing it…"

The king didn't reply. He was silent for a few moments as he cleaned and slathered a paste onto the cuts. Marik didn't look at him either, quietly letting him continue his work. Still trying to ignore the occasional prickles of pain radiating up and down his spine; still trying to wake up. Finally he heard him set the cloth back into the water bowl, meaning he must have finished. Marik made to stand up and flee the room until he felt a pair of arms encircle him from behind. He froze as he felt Atem rest his forehead on the base of his neck.

"Please don't think bad of me, Marik…I only want what's best for you because I love you," he whispered, laying a small kiss on the boy's skin before letting him go.

He stood there in silence a moment longer, before he spun around and launched himself at the man in front of him, sending the both of them crashing to the floor. Marik clenched his hands around Atem's throat as tight as he could and screamed at him, "That's not love! You don't know what love is!"

"M-Marik…" Atem choked out, clawing at the boys hands.

"Shut up! You can just go to hell, you hear me?!" He shouted, grabbing his neck tighter.

"Marik…stop!"

A pair of arms looped under his and yanked him back. He blinked from the sudden force and thought his heart would nearly stop when his vision focused back in. Ryou was on the floor gasping for breath, the skin of his neck beat red. As the realization hit him that Ryou could have died, that he had tried to strangle him, he heard the voice of Hassan calling for someone to bring him restraints.

"Ryou…Ryou I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it!"

The white-haired youth looked up at him, face flushed, not saying a word to him. Marik felt tears forming in his eyes, "Say something!"

"Hurry up and get him out of here! I need to make sure Ryou's alright," Hassan called to someone behind him.

Another man appeared next to them not a moment later and grabbed Marik from Hassan. Marik tried to fight him off, but it did him little good as the security officer managed to wrangle the boy into a straightjacket, "Doctor Bakura, don't make me go back to that room! Please!" Hassan didn't answer him, and simply nodded that he be removed from the hall. Screaming and kicking as he was led away, he managed to steal one last glimpse of Hassan and Ryou as the doctor bent down to check on his nephew.

Moments later he found himself back at the seclusion ward, the guard shoving him unceremoniously back into his tiny room and locking the door behind him. Marik screamed again and threw himself against the door, "Doctor Bakura! Let me out! You said I could go outside! Doctor Bakura! Please! I don't want to be in here anymore…" he sobbed, sinking to his knees, "Please Hassan…I just want…to go home…" But as he was already well aware, his pleas fell on deaf ears. So he sat there, head resting on the door, hoping that he would wake up. He didn't.