Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh characters.

Warnings: This will get very angsty in later chapters, sometimes gory so this is not for the faint of heart. Also, this is AU. (My first AU story, wee!)

Her Sweetness: Well, as you can see, the rating for this fic has moved up to M. I hope that's not a problem for anyone, I just think it's appropriate for this and future chapters…

— Everybody, Everybody —

Chapter Eight

Bakura had stolen his brother's address book and he had no regrets about it. It was early morning now, but maybe not so early, not from his point of view. The sky had already reddened and the stars wilted like dying flowers, losing their brilliance and fading under the wonder of the morning sun. All night long, Bakura had been on edge. Every hour that passed without a key entering the lock, every moment he did not hear Ryou's melodic voice… He'd gone near crazy, wanted to see where Ryou was, wanted to know if he was alright.

His mind raced to many different places, different faces and people and sounds; he thought of places his brother might be but no where made more sense than where he had said he was going. Marik Ishtar's house. When this thought hit Bakura, he wondered momentarily if Ryou decided to spend the night over their for whatever reason. He'd done it before. And it was no big deal, friends sleep over their friends' houses.

Right?

Right?

Bakura kept asking himself that, kept trying to convince himself that it was alright but he could never reach the point of composure. He finally came to the one thing he did not want to acknowledge. Did not, did not, did not want to recognize the possibility that…

They had gotten into a fight, hadn't they? Bakura nodded, yes. And Ryou was so upset at him for bringing up all the things throughout their relationship that they tried to ignore. He was upset and suddenly off he went with Marik Ishtar to his house and he is gone the entire night, no phone call, no nothing to tell him about his plans. Bakura almost broke down at the thought of Ryou wanting silent revenge against him.

And what was the one thing that got to Bakura most? Ryou knew the answer. Bakura did not want to believe that Ryou might've slept with Marik Ishtar just out of spite. It was bad enough with the teachers but sleeping with this boy, Marik, seemed to sting much worse.

So Bakura stole Ryou's address book from inside his drawer and opened it, finding all these numbers; so many that he did not know where to start. He flipped to the Is and the Ms but Marik Ishtar was no where. Bakura decided to call on Ryou's other friends to see if perhaps they had Marik's number somewhere in their memory banks or computer files. Somewhere, somewhere, it has to be somewhere.

"Marik… Ishtar?" Came the girl's voice from the other end of the line. Her tone was low, lethargic with a hint of annoyance. Bakura thought at first he had woken her up but, as the conversation dragged on and her begrudging way of speaking irked his already troubled mind, he found he didn't care.

"Yes, Marik Ishtar," His voice was tight. "Ryou's stayed over his house all night, I need his number."

"Well I don't know a Marik Ishtar; I wasn't even aware there was a Marik going to this school. Sorry," Her apology was unsympathetic and Bakura had had enough of Ryou's petty friends. He slammed the receiver down on the cradle and got up from his seat, heading down the hallway and grabbing a ring of keys as he closed the front door of the house behind him.

When neither of their parents were at home and went away for long periods of time, they simply rented cars wherever they were going and left the family car in the garage, thinking that it would be safe there. Neither of them knew that Bakura had long since had his driver's license nor did they know that often Bakura took his younger brother out for rides in the car. Maybe that was because he always made sure to refill the tank after every ride. But a more likely possibility, Bakura thought to himself, is that neither of them cared enough to pay attention to things like that.

"Yeah," he nodded to himself as his foot pressed down on the accelerator and the wind whistled past the car. "That's probably it."

Bakura didn't wish to waste anymore time calling friends or trying to seek phone numbers. His brother had been gone since early evening yesterday and with no phone call and no way to get to Marik Ishtar's house or call, he could only think of one place to go.

He was there fast enough, barely traveling at the speed limit and opened the car door, closing it behind him as he jumped onto the curb and walked into the building. The floors were glossy and lights shining from every lamp and light bulb. People walked around, most of them in blue uniforms though some were clothed in street-wear, those who were grimacing, complaining the handcuffs were too tight.

Bakura walked pass them all and to the back of the fluorescently lit room where a row of desks behind glass screens stayed, people in blue uniforms operating behind each one.

A man looked up upon hearing Bakura's incoming footsteps. His face was aged, not like some of the other officers who were young and could handle the more intimidating criminals. His mustache moved when he spoke and the badge he wore read: C. Bailey. Bakura stood before the man and he asked curtly: "Yes?"

"I want to report a missing person," There was a bit of urgency in Bakura's voice. Normally he would not want anyone to hear that much anxiety in anything he said but it was strange to find out that now he did not care.

"A family member?"

He nodded, rapidly reverted back to a child. He felt like one now, his brother missing, his soul mate, the one he wished to share everything with. "My brother; Ryou. He hasn't called or anything, he's not like that, he would've told me what he was going to do…"

"Hold on, hold on," A trace of annoyance made it into C. Bailey's voice as he scribbled something down on a notepad. Bakura suddenly felt like punching him but held on to his temper just a little bit longer. "When was the last time you saw your brother?"

"Ah… Last night, around five,"

There was a pause. C. Bailey shook his head, slowly at first and then he sighed. "Sorry, but the person must be absent for twenty-four hours before a missing persons report can be filed."

"B… But that's ridiculous, he's missing now and in nine hours, he'll still be missing, it doesn't matter what time it is—"

"That's the law, there's nothing I can do about it. You'll just have to wait."

The fresh air of the morning hit his face as the door to the police station opened and he got back into his car, having gotten out of the building so fast so as not to let everyone see his oncoming rush of tears. He held them in on the street and the car door closed behind him; he was in the drivers seat, his forehead touching the cool leather of the steering wheel. What was happening to him? He had never cried so much before, hardly at all.

Maybe this was what not having Ryou did to him? Took away his strength? Then what was he without Ryou?

Nothing, he answered, the tears continuing to fall down his cheeks and dropping onto his jeans, the droplets beginning to come faster and faster to the point that he wasn't sure it was him crying but both he and his brother. He wished that he was worrying in vain. He wished that Ryou had decided to only sleep over Marik's house for the night, maybe he was on his way home already.

"That's not true…" He sobbed harder, hands smearing the wetness from his eyes but always, always they came back. Ryou was not here, of course they came back. "That's not true! Why am I torturing myself like this, I know he's not okay, I know something's happening to him!"

Faster, faster.

He gripped the steering wheel. His vision was blurred.

"I'm not ready,"

"I'm not ready either!" Bakura's heart broke and his breath was not coming fast enough to sustain him and everything that collapsed inside him. He shouted out: "Where are you, Ryou? Ryou! Please, tell me where you are!"

"Why won't you stop… Just stop…"

Faster, faster.

-

Ryou was on the floor of the kitchen, his hands over his head, tied to the space heater beside him. All the screaming had turned his face red, shriveled his lungs and he'd lost all his breath, now laying still to regain it. His chest moved rhythmically up and down, up and down. He was amazed for some reason. Maybe it was how calm Marik could be in one moment and how utterly frantic he could be the next. For instance, he noted, when he began yelling, all Marik did was close the windows.

After that and Ryou continued in his tantrum, Marik came and sat down in front of the boy, hands folded under his chin and lavender eyes intense on his body. He kept screaming and flailing and Marik watched, a light going off behind his eyes; had he been enjoying it?

Ryou didn't know how to answer his own question, he didn't know how to answer anything anymore. Very little made sense here, in this new world. It seemed that's what Marik Ishtar had created for the both of them. A new world, strange and different to anyone else, separate, built for one purpose and one purpose only.

What was that purpose?

He knew what it was. He knew what it was but he did not wish to say it, to even acknowledge it. Ryou would rather it be kept a secret even from his own self who still wished to know. So was he divided into two?

Bakura, Ryou thought suddenly.

The word popped into his head from no where and suddenly he saw his big brother in his mind: standing across from him, screaming at him, his face red. Ryou's body was washed over with a wave of guilt and he let himself be carried away by it. The last thing his brother asked of him was to prove his love. And Ryou walked away.

"Show me that you're worth all the torment this has put me through, show me that you love me!"

Ryou starred into the ceiling, eyes stoic and wide, his mouth hanging open just a bit. He thought: I practically said no. He asked me to prove my love and I walked away. I said no… I said no…

"You say that now but after a while, you'll love it. I already know that you love me, Ry, so why don't you want to show it? I'm willing to show you,"

I said no that first time, too.

Ryou's chest rose and fell; up and down, up and down.

And after everything he's done for me, after everything he's put up with, I said no again…

"Ah…" Ryou didn't realize that was his voice. That small sound again, that small helpless animal chained and distraught again, that's what he was and that's how he was meant to be. Here, in this new world, that's how it was. Wasn't it? Ryou's eyebrows knitted together and his mouth opened but all he could do was make that noise. He began to whimper—fear of himself?—and the sound must've carried throughout the small apartment.

The next sound he heard was not his own but Marik's. His captor walked in through the threshold, lilac orbs wide and confused at the small sounds of misery coming from the boy's mouth. He walked in completely, looking down at Ryou and kneeling by him but Ryou did not notice until a moment later when the screaming of his fourteen-year-old self stopped.

"M-Marik," He turned his head to the tanned teenage beside him.

He nodded. "What is it? What's wrong?"

A beat of thought. Ryou's head turned toward the ceiling, his eyes so familiar with the intricate tiled patterns. His hands moved and he pulled himself into a sitting position though it was highly uncomfortable. His eyes met Marik's. "I-I have to go to the bathroom…"

He watched Marik's expression and it did not look denying. Marik looked down at the floor, eyeballs moving from side to side, figuring something out. Ryou waiting, breath held. Marik lifted his head and suddenly leant forward over the smaller teen and began to untie the ropes, his fingers working like spiders mending their broken webs. Ryou felt the tenderness in his fleeting touches and finally his wrists dropped, freed. Marik got up slowly and took a step backwards and finally stood at the entrance of the kitchen, his back to the wall. He pointed down the small hallway. "Come on,"

Ryou, though now used to being on the ground, found his legs strong when called upon and not weak as he'd hoped they wouldn't be. In this new world there was at least something he could remember as being on his side. He made his way to the threshold where Marik stood and tensed his body, walking straight down the hallway, only giving the front door a passing glance.

Marik followed him and opened the door to the bathroom, allowing Ryou to go inside.

"Can I…" Ryou stopped his sentence in the middle of it, unsure of how to proceed. Marik watched him attentively and that small gesture gave Ryou the strength of mind to go on. "I want to take a shower as well…"

There was a moment of silence and Marik nodded. "Alright, go ahead," He said, almost shyly and a faint redness could be seen staining his cheeks as he closed the door all but one inch, turning his back then to look out into the living room.

In a few minutes, Ryou turned on the showerhead and the water began to run down into the tub and against the glass of the shower door creating a rapid tapping echo. Ryou looked at the door and the one inch opening, out of which he could see Marik's back, still turned. A sigh and Ryou cursed himself for being this way, this afraid of what would happen if he undressed himself in Marik's home.

To be this bare, this vulnerable in this new world seemed a dangerous risk and he was not sure if he wanted to risk everything for a shower. But maybe this was not a shower, maybe it was him showing Marik and the new world that he was not afraid.

The picture book opened.

Ryou shut his eyes against the fear within him and stepped into the shower, closing the glass door and leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor.

-

The tapping sound was terrible. Terrible, only because of what they implied and what they promised and all the things they teased Marik with. Marik hated those small raps on the glass door and he hated the fact that there was so much between him and Ryou Bakura's skin.

Marik's eyelids drooped and he made sure his tired sigh was silent. He'd been having thoughts like that lately. Since Ryou entered his home, he'd been having thoughts like that all the time. He tried desperately to tell himself that these feelings and desires were normal, especially when something like Ryou Bakura practically fell into his lap. It was normal to want to hold and kiss and penetrate that sweet thing but maybe, he thought in the back of his mind, maybe he did not want to be normal with Ryou. He did not want to hurt him, he just wanted to be with him, to hear the words that he felt reciprocated.

I love you, I love you.

Was that so bad to want to hear? And now as the tapping grew louder, he closed his eyes, imagining the soaped-up washcloth moving all over Ryou's body, scrubbing lightly and then violently on different sections on his body. It was that same question again. To be gentle or rough with Ryou Bakura?

I want to be rough, he thought with suppressed moan.

He opened his eyes again and felt that Ryou would be fine in the shower by himself. He went into his room, diagonal from the bathroom door, and sat on the bed, the ruffled comforter beneath him. A sigh escaped him and he wondered what he would do next to help Ryou Bakura remember what he said. Marik's will to endure the temptations of Ryou's body were wearing very thin and he wanted Ryou's love now.

Marik opened his eyes and immediately scooted to the top of the bed, his head almost hitting the windowsill above the headboard. Fake Ryou had been hovering over him whilst his eyes were closed and he barely had time to calm himself before panic took over. Once he realized who it was, his eyes moved lower and his breath held in his chest at the sight before him.

Fake Ryou's clothes were gone, all of them, and there he stood at the end of the bed, a sweet smile plastered on his beautifully copied face, his hands clasped in each other behind his back. He tilted his head, his eyes bright and alert in the sun that drifted through the window.

'Marik,' he said, chirping the word.

"What…" Marik's eyes could not tear themselves away from that body. "Where are your clothes?" He asked, breathlessly.

'Gone,' Fake Ryou smiled again and made his way from the foot of the bed to the side, standing in front of Marik who had turned around, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed. The Fake One bent over a little and took both of Marik's hands in his own, bringing them up to his hips and setting them there, his hands guiding Marik's around the silky waist.

Marik watched attentively as his hands were being led to hold the boy's thighs, his hands feeling and teasing the soft skin between both legs. "I-I… Ryou's in the shower, he—"

'Marik,' Fake Ryou giggled light-heartedly, spreading his legs and leaning foreword. 'Marik, Marik Ishtar. What's wrong?'

He looked up, his trance broken for the moment. He gave the other one a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

'I mean…' The Fake One removed his hands from Marik's and pushed the taller teenager until he was flat on his back and Fake Ryou was over him. He bent down, his mouth now at Marik's ear and he whispered in between bites and kisses: 'I mean you do not look very happy. I'm here just for you, for you to enjoy and do anything you want with. That's what I'm here for, isn't that right, Marik Ishtar?'

Marik's eyes widened and he struggled to get up but Fake Ryou kept him pinned down. He grabbed Marik's hand and pushed it up to his navel and then teasingly slid it down to lead tanned fingers over a pale length. Marik heard his voice as a tiny whisper. "W-What you're… here for?"

Fake Ryou closed his eyes and leaned back again, moving Marik's head so he could have better access at the teen's neck. 'Yes,' he said listlessly. 'I'm here for you when Ryou Bakura does not wish for you to enter him. You created me, you should know… that I am stretched and ready for you all the time; I am your doll, Ishtar. Play with me and use me as you see fit…'

"N-No, I can't—"

'Shh. If it helps you, think of me as the real thing…' He murmured into Marik's ear, covering the tanned boy's mouth with his own.

To be continued…