A/N: OMG! I honestly did not expect anyone to read this, much less like it!
Thank you to everyone for your nice reviews! Sorry I took so long updating.
I have to be in an angsty, slightly demented mood to write this, and
although demented occurs frequently, I've been pretty happy as of late. The
plot kind of starts in this chapter, more or less, although it's still sort
of an introspective part, just to show exactly what both of them are
thinking. Oh, also, I know at this point, there's not much yaoi yet, since
I've never really showed them together, but there will be. By the way,
flames are accepted. I use them to toast marshmallows.
Disclaimer: I, Ms. Random Thoughts, own nothing that is herewith to be mentioned in this piece of fanfiction. I do solemnly swear I shall not pretend I do own it, unless I really feel like getting sued.
Second A/N: I was just listening to the song that helped to inspire this fic, and I thought, why not post some of the lyrics? The song is Brain Damage by Pink Floyd (from the Dark Side of the Moon CD), and it reminds me of Bakura and Ryou, especially this last verse. Let me know what you think!
The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head You raise the blade You make the change You rearrange me 'til I'm sane You lock the door And throw away the key There's someone in my head, but it's not me.
Bakura stared down at his bloody hands. What had happened? Had he-no, no, that was impossible. He hadn't been anywhere near home tonight.had he?
The Tomb Robber wasn't stupid. He knew he was repeating himself. But he had to know. What. Had. He. Done?
At least he knew where he was. Sort of. He was in the car-his own car, which was a distinct improvement over some nights he could mention.
Bakura decided that the only way to find out whose blood was to test it. True to form, he tested it by tasting some off of his palm.
"Oh, dear Ra, no," he whispered to himself. "No!" It was blood he knew better than that of anyone he'd known in Egypt. Blood he knew better than that of High Priest Set, better than that of his 'friend' Marik, better even than that of his mortal enemy, the Pharaoh. It was Ryou's blood. A lot of it. 'No!' he keened in silent agony, hating himself for his reaction. 'No!'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I jerk awake, screaming "No!" I whip my head around in panic. I saw blood. My blood? I do a quick, frenzied check to make sure I'm all right. No. I'm fine. I'm fine. Not bleeding, anyway. My breathing is quick. My heart is beating too fast. I'm afraid I'll have a heart attack. Oh, god, my head hurts.
Wait. My head hurts? No, no it doesn't. My head hurt, past tense.
It comes to me in a flash. Our soul link! Our soul link?! I'm still terrified. I scream down the link, (Bakura! Yami, answer me!) He's blocked it off again. "Of course," I say wildly. "Of course!" I'm almost in hysterics. "He's leaving me!" I repeat it to myself. "No! Bakura, no!"
I don't know what's wrong. I can't control myself, can't think in my usual, rational way. Tears run down my face as I slam my bedroom door open and race frantically down the hall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'The Tomb Robber doesn't cry. I am not yet that weak,' Bakura sneered silently. He jammed the car into reverse gear, plowing into the car directly behind him. "Dammit!" he snarled, pulling forward, turning the wheel sharply and backing out again, disregarding the fact that he was slamming into the cars next to his as well. The tires squealed as he finally got out of the parking space. He noted coldly that he was at one of the local bars.
Bakura was going eighty miles an hour, swerving back and forth across the lanes. He hesitated, then pulled into the parking lot of the only jeweler's in this part of Domino.
The thief was in no mood for subtlety. He shattered the front window by kicking it hard, causing the alarms to blare. With a practiced eye, he quickly selected those items that looked to be most valuable. Then, he leapt back into the car, tossing what he had taken into the passenger seat. He allowed himself a vicious grin. Stealing had not really gotten any harder. Tires screaming in protest, he accelerated more quickly than the old four-door was ever meant to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can't think properly! My mind is blank. I'm in his room. Yes. I pull the covers off of the bed, even though I know he's not there. I rip open his dresser drawers, searching desperately for some clue, some sign of.What? 'He's gone, he's gone," my mind wails. "No he's not," I snap viciously at myself.
Wait. What's this? My fingers find an empty bottle. 'Alcohol?' I wonder. No. It's an empty Robitussin bottle. I reach farther into the drawer. Yes, there's another. Cough syrup!
It's almost funny. 'Bakura's been drinking cough syrup?' I laugh, but it comes out as a dry, wracking sob. At least I know where my cough syrup's been going. It all seems to make sense.or not.
Where is he? Tears run down my face. My yami, my dark, what are you doing? Are you lying dead on the road somewhere, intoxicated by cough syrup?
I can almost feel him there, at the other end of our bond. It's giving me a dreadful headache, that feeling of being almost-connected, almost-whole. I hear sirens in my head.or is that a burglar alarm?
I am dimly aware of collapsing, of starting to black out. (Bakura!) I scream again. Then.nothing. My last thought is, "Curse this stupid weakness!" Or is it.?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bakura drove to a forest preserve and put on every piece of jewelry he'd stolen. A ring for each finger, two chains around his neck, and a diamond tennis bracelet. It seemed to help. It had always helped, back in Egypt, to wear large amounts of purloined gold. He fingered an emerald ring. The blood on his hands was dry now. He could not bring himself to get it off.
It was freezing. The broken passenger side window was letting in the cold winter air. 'Broken-? Wait a minute. When did that happen?'
A ring jabbed his palm, causing him to bite back an exclamation of pain. 'Pain? What.?' Suddenly, he recalled an image of his hand punching out the glass of the car window. Not at all carefully, he scraped away the blood on his hands to reveal.cuts. Many, many cuts. He put a hand to his head, found blood there too, and more cuts like those from glass shards. "Explains the headache," he muttered to himself.
A second later, full realization hit him. "It's not Ryou's blood," he said slowly. "It's mine."
Just then, he felt a surge of nausea, and heard a far off scream of (Bakura!) in his head. With surprise, he identified the voice of his hikari. He felt something pulling at him, too strongly too resist. As he switched the transmission to 'drive', he swore at himself. "Curse this stupid weakness!"
Bakura pressed the accelerator to the floor. A couple of people shouted profanities at him out of their car windows. He ignored them. He was being dragged by a will not his own.
Eyes wild, he banged the front door open so hard that it fell off of one of its hinges. He bolted upstairs, snarling like a wild animal. He couldn't control himself, nor did he want to. Something was wrong. Ryou's room. It didn't even take a glance for him to know it was empty. His own room, then. The door was open, not how he'd left it.at least, he didn't think so.
There was his young, pale light, on the floor unconscious, clutching one of the empty bottles of cough syrup the thief had hidden. Whatever was pulling him here still had not released its hold. It yanked him, almost brutally, to Ryou's side. He laid a finger on the boy's wrist, checking that the pulse was strong. Without thinking, he lifted his hikari in his arms and carried him back to his own bedroom. He placed him gently on the bed, and pried the bottle from Ryou's grasp. He pushed his light's hair away from his face, and gazed at him for a moment. Then he shook his head.
"I can't let you remember this," he murmured. "I can't let you stop me." Their identical copies of the Millennium Ring glowed golden. 'He still wears it?' Bakura thought incredulously. He touched his light's Ring, then his own. The Rings grew even brighter. "If you'd just get out of my head," the Tomb Robber muttered, "I wouldn't have any problems. Now, go to sleep, and forget that you were ever in my room. Forget that you ever woke up, Ryou." The Rings flared brilliantly for a second, then grew dull. The force that had brought him to his hikari faded away. Ryou's breathing became slow and even.
Oddly enough, Bakura felt like kissing the boy, as though it would seal the spell. He started to lean down, then snorted to himself. Instead, he laid the emerald ring he'd stolen on the night table. Then he whirled about, and in a swirl of gold and the light cloth he favored, he swept down the stairs into the kitchen. He snatched the coffee can, and walked out the door to the car.
A/N: See what I mean about the plot kind of starting? Fear not, because next chapter will include other characters who do not appear to be going mad. Bakura: Why are you writing me with such erratic behavior? (Millennium Ring glows threateningly) Author: Because you're drinking cough syrup, eating coffee, and drinking excessively. You're bound to behave strangely. Anyway, this is angst, remember? Bakura: Fine. But you'd better be nicer to my hikari next time! Author (crosses fingers behind back): Of course I will! Absolutely! Anyway, please leave a review! Ja ne!
Disclaimer: I, Ms. Random Thoughts, own nothing that is herewith to be mentioned in this piece of fanfiction. I do solemnly swear I shall not pretend I do own it, unless I really feel like getting sued.
Second A/N: I was just listening to the song that helped to inspire this fic, and I thought, why not post some of the lyrics? The song is Brain Damage by Pink Floyd (from the Dark Side of the Moon CD), and it reminds me of Bakura and Ryou, especially this last verse. Let me know what you think!
The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head You raise the blade You make the change You rearrange me 'til I'm sane You lock the door And throw away the key There's someone in my head, but it's not me.
Bakura stared down at his bloody hands. What had happened? Had he-no, no, that was impossible. He hadn't been anywhere near home tonight.had he?
The Tomb Robber wasn't stupid. He knew he was repeating himself. But he had to know. What. Had. He. Done?
At least he knew where he was. Sort of. He was in the car-his own car, which was a distinct improvement over some nights he could mention.
Bakura decided that the only way to find out whose blood was to test it. True to form, he tested it by tasting some off of his palm.
"Oh, dear Ra, no," he whispered to himself. "No!" It was blood he knew better than that of anyone he'd known in Egypt. Blood he knew better than that of High Priest Set, better than that of his 'friend' Marik, better even than that of his mortal enemy, the Pharaoh. It was Ryou's blood. A lot of it. 'No!' he keened in silent agony, hating himself for his reaction. 'No!'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I jerk awake, screaming "No!" I whip my head around in panic. I saw blood. My blood? I do a quick, frenzied check to make sure I'm all right. No. I'm fine. I'm fine. Not bleeding, anyway. My breathing is quick. My heart is beating too fast. I'm afraid I'll have a heart attack. Oh, god, my head hurts.
Wait. My head hurts? No, no it doesn't. My head hurt, past tense.
It comes to me in a flash. Our soul link! Our soul link?! I'm still terrified. I scream down the link, (Bakura! Yami, answer me!) He's blocked it off again. "Of course," I say wildly. "Of course!" I'm almost in hysterics. "He's leaving me!" I repeat it to myself. "No! Bakura, no!"
I don't know what's wrong. I can't control myself, can't think in my usual, rational way. Tears run down my face as I slam my bedroom door open and race frantically down the hall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'The Tomb Robber doesn't cry. I am not yet that weak,' Bakura sneered silently. He jammed the car into reverse gear, plowing into the car directly behind him. "Dammit!" he snarled, pulling forward, turning the wheel sharply and backing out again, disregarding the fact that he was slamming into the cars next to his as well. The tires squealed as he finally got out of the parking space. He noted coldly that he was at one of the local bars.
Bakura was going eighty miles an hour, swerving back and forth across the lanes. He hesitated, then pulled into the parking lot of the only jeweler's in this part of Domino.
The thief was in no mood for subtlety. He shattered the front window by kicking it hard, causing the alarms to blare. With a practiced eye, he quickly selected those items that looked to be most valuable. Then, he leapt back into the car, tossing what he had taken into the passenger seat. He allowed himself a vicious grin. Stealing had not really gotten any harder. Tires screaming in protest, he accelerated more quickly than the old four-door was ever meant to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can't think properly! My mind is blank. I'm in his room. Yes. I pull the covers off of the bed, even though I know he's not there. I rip open his dresser drawers, searching desperately for some clue, some sign of.What? 'He's gone, he's gone," my mind wails. "No he's not," I snap viciously at myself.
Wait. What's this? My fingers find an empty bottle. 'Alcohol?' I wonder. No. It's an empty Robitussin bottle. I reach farther into the drawer. Yes, there's another. Cough syrup!
It's almost funny. 'Bakura's been drinking cough syrup?' I laugh, but it comes out as a dry, wracking sob. At least I know where my cough syrup's been going. It all seems to make sense.or not.
Where is he? Tears run down my face. My yami, my dark, what are you doing? Are you lying dead on the road somewhere, intoxicated by cough syrup?
I can almost feel him there, at the other end of our bond. It's giving me a dreadful headache, that feeling of being almost-connected, almost-whole. I hear sirens in my head.or is that a burglar alarm?
I am dimly aware of collapsing, of starting to black out. (Bakura!) I scream again. Then.nothing. My last thought is, "Curse this stupid weakness!" Or is it.?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bakura drove to a forest preserve and put on every piece of jewelry he'd stolen. A ring for each finger, two chains around his neck, and a diamond tennis bracelet. It seemed to help. It had always helped, back in Egypt, to wear large amounts of purloined gold. He fingered an emerald ring. The blood on his hands was dry now. He could not bring himself to get it off.
It was freezing. The broken passenger side window was letting in the cold winter air. 'Broken-? Wait a minute. When did that happen?'
A ring jabbed his palm, causing him to bite back an exclamation of pain. 'Pain? What.?' Suddenly, he recalled an image of his hand punching out the glass of the car window. Not at all carefully, he scraped away the blood on his hands to reveal.cuts. Many, many cuts. He put a hand to his head, found blood there too, and more cuts like those from glass shards. "Explains the headache," he muttered to himself.
A second later, full realization hit him. "It's not Ryou's blood," he said slowly. "It's mine."
Just then, he felt a surge of nausea, and heard a far off scream of (Bakura!) in his head. With surprise, he identified the voice of his hikari. He felt something pulling at him, too strongly too resist. As he switched the transmission to 'drive', he swore at himself. "Curse this stupid weakness!"
Bakura pressed the accelerator to the floor. A couple of people shouted profanities at him out of their car windows. He ignored them. He was being dragged by a will not his own.
Eyes wild, he banged the front door open so hard that it fell off of one of its hinges. He bolted upstairs, snarling like a wild animal. He couldn't control himself, nor did he want to. Something was wrong. Ryou's room. It didn't even take a glance for him to know it was empty. His own room, then. The door was open, not how he'd left it.at least, he didn't think so.
There was his young, pale light, on the floor unconscious, clutching one of the empty bottles of cough syrup the thief had hidden. Whatever was pulling him here still had not released its hold. It yanked him, almost brutally, to Ryou's side. He laid a finger on the boy's wrist, checking that the pulse was strong. Without thinking, he lifted his hikari in his arms and carried him back to his own bedroom. He placed him gently on the bed, and pried the bottle from Ryou's grasp. He pushed his light's hair away from his face, and gazed at him for a moment. Then he shook his head.
"I can't let you remember this," he murmured. "I can't let you stop me." Their identical copies of the Millennium Ring glowed golden. 'He still wears it?' Bakura thought incredulously. He touched his light's Ring, then his own. The Rings grew even brighter. "If you'd just get out of my head," the Tomb Robber muttered, "I wouldn't have any problems. Now, go to sleep, and forget that you were ever in my room. Forget that you ever woke up, Ryou." The Rings flared brilliantly for a second, then grew dull. The force that had brought him to his hikari faded away. Ryou's breathing became slow and even.
Oddly enough, Bakura felt like kissing the boy, as though it would seal the spell. He started to lean down, then snorted to himself. Instead, he laid the emerald ring he'd stolen on the night table. Then he whirled about, and in a swirl of gold and the light cloth he favored, he swept down the stairs into the kitchen. He snatched the coffee can, and walked out the door to the car.
A/N: See what I mean about the plot kind of starting? Fear not, because next chapter will include other characters who do not appear to be going mad. Bakura: Why are you writing me with such erratic behavior? (Millennium Ring glows threateningly) Author: Because you're drinking cough syrup, eating coffee, and drinking excessively. You're bound to behave strangely. Anyway, this is angst, remember? Bakura: Fine. But you'd better be nicer to my hikari next time! Author (crosses fingers behind back): Of course I will! Absolutely! Anyway, please leave a review! Ja ne!
