Notes: These are a series of drabbles set in the same storyline. This is post-series, so no Items, no spirits. In this chapter there are warnings for: nonconsensual drug use; violence; implied sex; and lack of beta.
Bad Principles
Revenge
"Liberty, equality--bad principles! The only true principle for humanity is justice; and justice to the feeble is protection and kindness."
-- Henri-Frederic Amiel
If Bakura had never found out that Malik was the reason for the scar on his arm, they probably would have drifted apart. So in hindsight, it probably would have been better if Malik had continued to lie to him about everything; about knowing the spirit, about possessing his body. About getting him killed.
Of course, when Bakura found out, he was more angry that he hadn't stayed dead, and Malik argued that in that case he ought to have been angry at the spirit—futile as that was, at least his hatred would have been in the right place. In the end, though, after Malik was done yelling and Bakura was done glaring at the glass surface of the coffee table, the paler boy insisted quietly that he would still rather have Malik around and be lied to, than be alone. And Malik, changeable though his moods were, always found himself coming back to those he loved.
They made up—it wasn't making love, neither of them would call it that—and Malik fell asleep sometime before dawn. Bakura stroked his hair and fought the quiver that only built up rage could create.
Malik wasn't stupid. Ketamine left no taste, no scent, but he'd known Bakura's father had a prescription for it and so he'd known to be paranoid. Even though they'd made up, he knew how unpredictable Bakura had become since the loss of the Ring. But being wary only took him so far, since he wasn't willing to leave, and eventually Bakura succeeded.
Malik would ask him later which drink had had the drug, and Bakura would simply shrug and murmur something about water, even though Malik had only been drinking wine that night.
Just before the drug made him drift out of his skull, though, he realized he also knew the reason Bakura had chosen that drug; if he'd given Malik GHB, there was the chance he wouldn't remember what happened and that would have defeated the purpose. Bakura knew he couldn't overpower him if he was sober; he had to drug him.
It was sort of laughable in a way. It was so much effort just to slash open his arm, and he watched the whole thing from above his own body anyway, so he didn't even feel it. Not that he necessarily would have, anyway; no pain really compared to the initiation.
Since the drug also kicked up a few hallucinations, Malik would never be quite sure if Bakura actually did lean down and kiss him after it was over and his arm was bandaged. If Bakura did, he also must have whispered, "Now we're even" because that was what Malik heard—or thought he heard--every night after that before they fell asleep.