A Warm Heart in a Cold Desert
Disclaimer: I li~ike the radio, my bank account zero, I do~on't own YGO, the cards or the show. *Blasts 'Punk Rock 101'*
Pairings: Bakura/Ryou, Marik/Malik, maybe some Seto/Joey
Warnings/Other: Yaoi (Don't like? Don't read.), angst, death, some Ryou- OOC. Dedicated to D and Vi, and Tia ^_^
Summary: -AU- Bakura, an Egyptian prison escapee. Ryou, a contradictory teenager sick of the family life. After Ryou is dragged along on his family trip to desert, he finds Bakura in the back of his car, and decides to run away with him. There's only one problem. They're lost in the desert with no idea where civilization is. YAOI BxR
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The sun had risen and set since the abrupt change of living space the previous day, but the worry and stress resting on Bakura's shoulders hadn't went away, even in the slightest. He knew Ryou was right - if the police ever caught him now, he would be as good as dead. It wasn't so much the sneaking into the country, escaping from prison, and minor thefts he had commited, but moreso the four people he had murdered. Of course, he could justify his actions, but, he thought, why would they bother to trust the word of a criminal?
Bakura cringed.
He didn't like to think of himself as a criminal, not while he held Ryou so gently in his arms. Holding the boy closer to his chest, Bakura held on to Ryou like a lifeline, as if the police would never think of harming him as long as Ryou was in his embrace. He half expected Ryou to pull away, and inqure why he was being so cuddly. A warm feeling encompassed his heart when Ryou rested his head on his shoulder.
"Ryou?"
The silver-haired British youth looked up into Bakura's eyes, masking the slight pain from all his broken bones, breathing lightly.
"How are your ribs? Do they hurt?"
"A little." Ryou lied. "But don't worry about it, Bakura..." He trailed off and painfully reached for the older boy's hand again. Bowing his head in shame, Ryou rubbed the side of his cheek against Bakura's suprisingly soft skin.
The Egyptian blinked, "Ryou? What's the matter?"
Slightly teary chocolate orbs glanced at the forienger for a moment before the younger shook his head. "Nothing." `Great, the second time I've lied to him within five minutes.` Ryou thought to himself with distaste.
"You miss your family." Bakura mumbled quietly.
"Y-Yes..." Ryou said, slightly shocked.
"And you're worried about your injuries."
"And yours," Ryou said gently, glancing down at the bloodied wound on Bakura's leg. He looked up, confused. "How do you know all this? It's like... It's like you can read my thoughts."
Bakura quirked up his smile. "It's only natural, Ry." The nickname sent a flutter of delight through Ryou's heart. "You're not a homeless traveller like me, and Marik, and Malik. You have a family and a home; you're not adapt to living the way the three of us do, because that's not how you were raised."
A sigh, followed by a nod. "I guess..."
They quieted down with the return of the nearly identical beach blonde Egyptians.
* * *
It had all happened so fast.
Ryou and Bakura had simply been sitting in what minimal shade they could find, wrapped in eachother's arms, prior to the return of Marik and Malik. The three Egyptians had been discussing what their plans were once they became legal citizens, or, in Bakura's case, how he would escape the police and then work on becoming an American citizen. And then it had happened.
Malik was the first one to sense someone heading their way. Quickly, the three older boys had carried Ryou to a somewhat safe hiding spot Marik had found while the two had gone exploring. Ryou had protested at first, but after a few words from Bakura, ("Ryou, don't worry, this is just for precaution in case more freaks like them are back. We'll return soon."), he had agreed to stay put. Quietly, Bakura slipped the dagger out from his waistband and handed it to Ryou, telling him to use it only if absolutely necessary.
The trio had returned to where they were previously, but Bakura should have stayed back with Ryou. That was because the second he crawled out from the secluded patch of rocks and small desert caves, he had unintentionally made direct eye-contact with none other than a very stern and enraged man with soft golden bangs falling over his fiery crimson eyes.
Yami Mutou.
The Chief of Police.
Behind Yami was another blonde, looking equally as angry, although this time the amber glare was sent toward Marik. Leaning somewhat onto the second blonde was the tall brunette officer, Seto Kaiba, who only Marik recognized. And, finally, a hazel-eyed man in his late teens, around the same age as the others, was stationed on the left side of Yami, arms crossed.
Bakura hissed a warning to Marik and Malik, telling them to remain still, but unfortunately they had already been spotted. Neither of them dared to try and make a run for it; even though Marik and Malik probably could have escaped if they were to start running now, Bakura would have undoubtedly been captured due to the infected wound on his leg disabling him from running too fast. Not with so much at stake...
.
"You have the right to remain silent; anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights?"
Seto addressed Bakura with a tone of disgust as he presented the Egyptian with his rights. Bakura had his hands handcuffed as he nodded in response, a glare set in his dark brown orbs. Marik and Malik were handcuffed as well, and had their rights read to them by Tristan and Yami. The silver- haired Egyptian nodded once, restraining a sigh, as the three of them were shoved into a single police car.
.
And thus they allowed themselves to be caught, without protest, without shouted insults, without even a glance back to Ryou. As they rode in complete silence in the back of a police car driven by a sassy, green-eyed officer who they believed to be named Duke Devlin, the only communication they could make was the occassional eye-contact. For the duration of the trip back to the station, Malik had his head rested on Marik's shoulder, unable to hold Marik's hand against his cheek as he so badly wished to do. Marik couldn't comfort Malik either, due to the demonic handcuffs. Bakura could only drum his fingers on his knees with one hand as he stared off into the distance, no one to hold, no one to hold him. He sighed. He was already missing Ryou as he sat slightly apart from his two - dare he say it? - friends.
The next twenty minutes were hell for Bakura. Guilt was rising in his chest slowly, creeping into every crevice in his heart and making him feel completely horrible for not keeping his promise to his Ryou. Bakura blinked, `How long have I been calling him mine?` He sighed inwardly; if only he had stayed back...
//
Ryou watched in horror as Bakura, Marik, and Malik were driven away in the black-and-white cop car. He tried to remain as silent as he could, since he knew at least three officers were still scouting the area. In spite of himself, he held Bakura's dagger somewhat close; it had been given to him from Bakura and therefore Ryou felt it held some strange kind of sentimental value. He fumbled with the handle of the knife until it fit along his belt well enough to allow him painless mobility.
He froze as he heard and felt someone approaching his hiding spot. Hastily, he covered the blade with the hem of his t-shirt and waited with held-back breath until he couldn't hold the oxygen in any longer. The British youth tenitively lay down in the sand, and took in shallow breaths, hoping he would be mistaken for unconcious or something of the like. Tired as he wasn't, he figured mocking sleep was the only way to get himself out of questioning until he had a better grip on his emotional state of mind.
.
The next thing he was aware of was the irritating beeping of heart and other vital statistic monitors. Ryou eased his eyes open; it felt as if he had been drugged and taken to somewhere unfamiliar, but another, clearer, glance around his surroundings brought the past back like a ton of bricks falling atop his head.
He was in a hospital.
Great.
`Damn officers.` Ryou thought with a glare. `I want to be where Bakura is.`
Turning his head to the left slightly, Ryou saw a hunched-over woman with pale blonde hair, and a single golden wristwatch hanging off a thin wrist. His eyes widened; he hadn't remembered seeing or hearing his mother's voice recently. As he came more to his senses, he noticed his ribs no longer ached the way they had before, and his ankle, which he had forgotten about for the most, didn't hurt at all. Logic told Ryou that he must have been treated for his wounds and injuries, but it didn't tell him what was happening to Bakura.
The woman stirred and looked up at her son, eyes wide, "Ryou! You're awake!"
"Hn." Ryou grumbled in response, he didn't feel like being back with his family right now. Guilt immediately started welling up in his chest; he hadn't meant to sound as rude as he did. "...Sorry."
Ms. Bakura sighed. "Ryou, do you have any idea how worried your grandparents and I were? Why did you run off with that... that criminal, that fiend, like that?"
"*Fiend*?" Ryou's temper flared at that word, "He is not a fiend!" He hissed angrily.
"He is a prison escapee." Ms. Bakura said softly.
Ryou glared slightly, "That means nothing. You don't know him at all, Mother. He's not a bad person!"
"Enough!" Exclaimed the woman, raising her voice, "I won't have my own son standing up for a criminal."
"He is no more a criminal than I am, Mother." Ryou said, eyes pinched closed with restrained fury. The tone in his voice sublty told his mother that the conversation was over; there was no chance of altering his perspective. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Ms. Bakura left the room. He sighed. He missed Bakura, even more than he had before.
//
As Bakura sat despondently in the jail cell he had been thrown into after being booked a second time, Marik and Malik sat off to the side of thier lonesome, silver-haired comrade. Clad in black-and-white striped prison garbs, Malik had never been so unnerved and quiet as he silently held on to Marik's arm. Marik had an arm slung around Malik's waist as he watched Bakura with a cautious eye.
The look of complete hopelessness in those eternally deep brown eyes bore a whole through Marik's being. He had seen Bakura lose confidence upon every other blue moon, but never like this. With a sigh, Marik untangled himself from Malik's arms and sat beside his pale-skinned friend on the cold linoleum floor of the cell.
Bakura glanced up at Marik, glaring. "What?" He didn't feel like being pestered right about now. The only thing he wanted to feel was Ryou in his arms.
"Gee, Bakura, I love you too." Marik replied, biting back the slightly harsh tone his instincts told him to use. Stoic and vengeful as he knew Bakura to be, he knew that the tomb robber was hurting right now, and he had to make sure to be careful with how he spoke. His arms wound themselves around Bakura's waist as Marik pulled the taller boy close to him, pressing Bakura's back against his chest. Having his back secure always comforted him as a child. "Take your shield down. You don't need it anymore."
Bakura grunted in response. "Hn."
"You only had that mask up because you were unconfident, Bakura. But you don't need to wear it every day now. Times have changed since you were ten." Marik whispered softly, releasing Bakura and returning to his spot beside Malik. Casting a level violet gaze on Bakura for a few moments longer, Marik turned his attention back to Malik as he kissed the top of his smaller look-a-like's forehead.
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Bakura: ... *Just sits there glaring at Shori*
Shori: WHAT?!
Bakura: You demon! How could you split me and Ryou up like that?!
Shori: ...because I had to for plot reasons...?
Bakura: . I hate you.
Shori: We've already established that. *Hides from a dagger thrown by Bakura* Anyways, I've updated the review counter to.. yes, that's right! ^_^ 130. Thank you all for reviewing! I think it's the only thing keeping 'Kura-chan from killing me -___-;; *Runs off before Bakura can throw another dagger*
Disclaimer: I li~ike the radio, my bank account zero, I do~on't own YGO, the cards or the show. *Blasts 'Punk Rock 101'*
Pairings: Bakura/Ryou, Marik/Malik, maybe some Seto/Joey
Warnings/Other: Yaoi (Don't like? Don't read.), angst, death, some Ryou- OOC. Dedicated to D and Vi, and Tia ^_^
Summary: -AU- Bakura, an Egyptian prison escapee. Ryou, a contradictory teenager sick of the family life. After Ryou is dragged along on his family trip to desert, he finds Bakura in the back of his car, and decides to run away with him. There's only one problem. They're lost in the desert with no idea where civilization is. YAOI BxR
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The sun had risen and set since the abrupt change of living space the previous day, but the worry and stress resting on Bakura's shoulders hadn't went away, even in the slightest. He knew Ryou was right - if the police ever caught him now, he would be as good as dead. It wasn't so much the sneaking into the country, escaping from prison, and minor thefts he had commited, but moreso the four people he had murdered. Of course, he could justify his actions, but, he thought, why would they bother to trust the word of a criminal?
Bakura cringed.
He didn't like to think of himself as a criminal, not while he held Ryou so gently in his arms. Holding the boy closer to his chest, Bakura held on to Ryou like a lifeline, as if the police would never think of harming him as long as Ryou was in his embrace. He half expected Ryou to pull away, and inqure why he was being so cuddly. A warm feeling encompassed his heart when Ryou rested his head on his shoulder.
"Ryou?"
The silver-haired British youth looked up into Bakura's eyes, masking the slight pain from all his broken bones, breathing lightly.
"How are your ribs? Do they hurt?"
"A little." Ryou lied. "But don't worry about it, Bakura..." He trailed off and painfully reached for the older boy's hand again. Bowing his head in shame, Ryou rubbed the side of his cheek against Bakura's suprisingly soft skin.
The Egyptian blinked, "Ryou? What's the matter?"
Slightly teary chocolate orbs glanced at the forienger for a moment before the younger shook his head. "Nothing." `Great, the second time I've lied to him within five minutes.` Ryou thought to himself with distaste.
"You miss your family." Bakura mumbled quietly.
"Y-Yes..." Ryou said, slightly shocked.
"And you're worried about your injuries."
"And yours," Ryou said gently, glancing down at the bloodied wound on Bakura's leg. He looked up, confused. "How do you know all this? It's like... It's like you can read my thoughts."
Bakura quirked up his smile. "It's only natural, Ry." The nickname sent a flutter of delight through Ryou's heart. "You're not a homeless traveller like me, and Marik, and Malik. You have a family and a home; you're not adapt to living the way the three of us do, because that's not how you were raised."
A sigh, followed by a nod. "I guess..."
They quieted down with the return of the nearly identical beach blonde Egyptians.
* * *
It had all happened so fast.
Ryou and Bakura had simply been sitting in what minimal shade they could find, wrapped in eachother's arms, prior to the return of Marik and Malik. The three Egyptians had been discussing what their plans were once they became legal citizens, or, in Bakura's case, how he would escape the police and then work on becoming an American citizen. And then it had happened.
Malik was the first one to sense someone heading their way. Quickly, the three older boys had carried Ryou to a somewhat safe hiding spot Marik had found while the two had gone exploring. Ryou had protested at first, but after a few words from Bakura, ("Ryou, don't worry, this is just for precaution in case more freaks like them are back. We'll return soon."), he had agreed to stay put. Quietly, Bakura slipped the dagger out from his waistband and handed it to Ryou, telling him to use it only if absolutely necessary.
The trio had returned to where they were previously, but Bakura should have stayed back with Ryou. That was because the second he crawled out from the secluded patch of rocks and small desert caves, he had unintentionally made direct eye-contact with none other than a very stern and enraged man with soft golden bangs falling over his fiery crimson eyes.
Yami Mutou.
The Chief of Police.
Behind Yami was another blonde, looking equally as angry, although this time the amber glare was sent toward Marik. Leaning somewhat onto the second blonde was the tall brunette officer, Seto Kaiba, who only Marik recognized. And, finally, a hazel-eyed man in his late teens, around the same age as the others, was stationed on the left side of Yami, arms crossed.
Bakura hissed a warning to Marik and Malik, telling them to remain still, but unfortunately they had already been spotted. Neither of them dared to try and make a run for it; even though Marik and Malik probably could have escaped if they were to start running now, Bakura would have undoubtedly been captured due to the infected wound on his leg disabling him from running too fast. Not with so much at stake...
.
"You have the right to remain silent; anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights?"
Seto addressed Bakura with a tone of disgust as he presented the Egyptian with his rights. Bakura had his hands handcuffed as he nodded in response, a glare set in his dark brown orbs. Marik and Malik were handcuffed as well, and had their rights read to them by Tristan and Yami. The silver- haired Egyptian nodded once, restraining a sigh, as the three of them were shoved into a single police car.
.
And thus they allowed themselves to be caught, without protest, without shouted insults, without even a glance back to Ryou. As they rode in complete silence in the back of a police car driven by a sassy, green-eyed officer who they believed to be named Duke Devlin, the only communication they could make was the occassional eye-contact. For the duration of the trip back to the station, Malik had his head rested on Marik's shoulder, unable to hold Marik's hand against his cheek as he so badly wished to do. Marik couldn't comfort Malik either, due to the demonic handcuffs. Bakura could only drum his fingers on his knees with one hand as he stared off into the distance, no one to hold, no one to hold him. He sighed. He was already missing Ryou as he sat slightly apart from his two - dare he say it? - friends.
The next twenty minutes were hell for Bakura. Guilt was rising in his chest slowly, creeping into every crevice in his heart and making him feel completely horrible for not keeping his promise to his Ryou. Bakura blinked, `How long have I been calling him mine?` He sighed inwardly; if only he had stayed back...
//
Ryou watched in horror as Bakura, Marik, and Malik were driven away in the black-and-white cop car. He tried to remain as silent as he could, since he knew at least three officers were still scouting the area. In spite of himself, he held Bakura's dagger somewhat close; it had been given to him from Bakura and therefore Ryou felt it held some strange kind of sentimental value. He fumbled with the handle of the knife until it fit along his belt well enough to allow him painless mobility.
He froze as he heard and felt someone approaching his hiding spot. Hastily, he covered the blade with the hem of his t-shirt and waited with held-back breath until he couldn't hold the oxygen in any longer. The British youth tenitively lay down in the sand, and took in shallow breaths, hoping he would be mistaken for unconcious or something of the like. Tired as he wasn't, he figured mocking sleep was the only way to get himself out of questioning until he had a better grip on his emotional state of mind.
.
The next thing he was aware of was the irritating beeping of heart and other vital statistic monitors. Ryou eased his eyes open; it felt as if he had been drugged and taken to somewhere unfamiliar, but another, clearer, glance around his surroundings brought the past back like a ton of bricks falling atop his head.
He was in a hospital.
Great.
`Damn officers.` Ryou thought with a glare. `I want to be where Bakura is.`
Turning his head to the left slightly, Ryou saw a hunched-over woman with pale blonde hair, and a single golden wristwatch hanging off a thin wrist. His eyes widened; he hadn't remembered seeing or hearing his mother's voice recently. As he came more to his senses, he noticed his ribs no longer ached the way they had before, and his ankle, which he had forgotten about for the most, didn't hurt at all. Logic told Ryou that he must have been treated for his wounds and injuries, but it didn't tell him what was happening to Bakura.
The woman stirred and looked up at her son, eyes wide, "Ryou! You're awake!"
"Hn." Ryou grumbled in response, he didn't feel like being back with his family right now. Guilt immediately started welling up in his chest; he hadn't meant to sound as rude as he did. "...Sorry."
Ms. Bakura sighed. "Ryou, do you have any idea how worried your grandparents and I were? Why did you run off with that... that criminal, that fiend, like that?"
"*Fiend*?" Ryou's temper flared at that word, "He is not a fiend!" He hissed angrily.
"He is a prison escapee." Ms. Bakura said softly.
Ryou glared slightly, "That means nothing. You don't know him at all, Mother. He's not a bad person!"
"Enough!" Exclaimed the woman, raising her voice, "I won't have my own son standing up for a criminal."
"He is no more a criminal than I am, Mother." Ryou said, eyes pinched closed with restrained fury. The tone in his voice sublty told his mother that the conversation was over; there was no chance of altering his perspective. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Ms. Bakura left the room. He sighed. He missed Bakura, even more than he had before.
//
As Bakura sat despondently in the jail cell he had been thrown into after being booked a second time, Marik and Malik sat off to the side of thier lonesome, silver-haired comrade. Clad in black-and-white striped prison garbs, Malik had never been so unnerved and quiet as he silently held on to Marik's arm. Marik had an arm slung around Malik's waist as he watched Bakura with a cautious eye.
The look of complete hopelessness in those eternally deep brown eyes bore a whole through Marik's being. He had seen Bakura lose confidence upon every other blue moon, but never like this. With a sigh, Marik untangled himself from Malik's arms and sat beside his pale-skinned friend on the cold linoleum floor of the cell.
Bakura glanced up at Marik, glaring. "What?" He didn't feel like being pestered right about now. The only thing he wanted to feel was Ryou in his arms.
"Gee, Bakura, I love you too." Marik replied, biting back the slightly harsh tone his instincts told him to use. Stoic and vengeful as he knew Bakura to be, he knew that the tomb robber was hurting right now, and he had to make sure to be careful with how he spoke. His arms wound themselves around Bakura's waist as Marik pulled the taller boy close to him, pressing Bakura's back against his chest. Having his back secure always comforted him as a child. "Take your shield down. You don't need it anymore."
Bakura grunted in response. "Hn."
"You only had that mask up because you were unconfident, Bakura. But you don't need to wear it every day now. Times have changed since you were ten." Marik whispered softly, releasing Bakura and returning to his spot beside Malik. Casting a level violet gaze on Bakura for a few moments longer, Marik turned his attention back to Malik as he kissed the top of his smaller look-a-like's forehead.
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Bakura: ... *Just sits there glaring at Shori*
Shori: WHAT?!
Bakura: You demon! How could you split me and Ryou up like that?!
Shori: ...because I had to for plot reasons...?
Bakura: . I hate you.
Shori: We've already established that. *Hides from a dagger thrown by Bakura* Anyways, I've updated the review counter to.. yes, that's right! ^_^ 130. Thank you all for reviewing! I think it's the only thing keeping 'Kura-chan from killing me -___-;; *Runs off before Bakura can throw another dagger*
