Malik noted Ryou's anxious gaze when he and Bakura came back downstairs. He clearly wanted to ask what had happened, but Malik shook his head ever so slightly. He felt just as perplexed as Ryou looked, but in any case, Bakura looked relatively calm now, and there was little need to work him up again. They settled in the living room, next to Ryou and Kek on the sofa, and slotted Mario Kart into Ryou's old SNES. Bakura's sour expression immediately brightened as the title music started playing; it was difficult to believe that just five minutes earlier, the same young man was practically having a panic attack.

Well, no, actually, Malik corrected himself, as he hurled a blue shell at Kek, to explosive curses from his former alter in a Japanese-Arabic mishmash. I was much the same not long ago, so I can believe it. Bakura's got a lot going on that he isn't telling us about, but I can see a little of what's happening in his head. One thing's for sure, he needs some proper support.

It wasn't as if Malik knew he was going to "cure" his old friend. He knew enough of his own delicate mental health to be aware that even the strongest medication could only do so much for some people, and that a few talks and hugs did next to nothing. He'd been too anxious about inflicting his problems onto other people, so intimacy and relationships had been completely out of the question, and no doubt, Bakura felt the same, as indicated by his usual tendency to shut everybody out of his life.

Yugi's earlier words reverberated like a heavily struck bell inside Malik's mind, an ever-present reminder, clear and pure. Partners…equals…he's right, the only way either of us can even begin healing these emotional wounds is by getting back on that even footing with each other. Jeez, it's like Battle City all over again.

"Malik?" Kek was poking Malik's arm curiously. "Are you driving, or what?"

"S-Sorry." Malik shook his head and picked up his controller again.

"Dork," Bakura grinned, tucking his feet up to the side and getting more comfortable on the sofa. With a controller in his hands and the skin around his dark eyes crinkling with every smile, Malik couldn't help but think Bakura looked happier than he'd ever seen him. Indeed, it was beautiful to bear witness to.

Nevertheless, the urge to banter with his old partner got the better of him. "Screw you, Bakura."

"I mean, sure, if that's the way you swing."

Malik nearly choked on his own tongue. Ryou burst out laughing, causing Malik to glare at him. "Oh, come on! Am I really that obvious?"

"Yes," Kek smirked.

"Oh, fuck you!"

"Sorry, I'm taken." Kek nuzzled Ryou's cheek affectionately.

Malik glanced worriedly at Bakura, gauging his reaction, but this time, Bakura looked rather nonplussed. In fact, he nestled ever so slightly closer to Malik. "I'm hanging off the edge here," he muttered when Malik raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

Ryou giggled at their interaction. "It wouldn't do to let Bakura fall now, would it, Malik?"

I hate you all. But really, that was the perfect excuse to slip an arm round Bakura and tug him closer. To his astonishment, Bakura settled down with his head on Malik's shoulder, leaning his body weight against Malik's side. The sudden contact made sparks dance across nerves Malik hadn't been aware he possessed, but at the same time, he felt once more just how light Bakura was; he should have been dead weight, but rigidity pressed into Malik instead of softness and curves. He wouldn't bring it up, though…not yet. Bakura seemed happy, and he didn't want to spoil that, so he chanced a little further and dropped a gentle kiss to Bakura's brow.

Ryou gasped, Kek rolled his eyes, but Bakura merely chuckled and shifted closer. "You're playing a different sort of game here, Ishtar," he murmured. "You sure you know what you're doing? This isn't Mario Kart."

"Says you," Malik shot back. "You're the one snuggled into me like a damn teddy bear."

"You're cute and comfortable."

"Are you drunk?"

"I'm always drunk."

Ryou had a hand pressed to his mouth, their game all but forgotten. "Holy crap," he whispered not-so-subtly to Kek, "this is perfect, don't you think?"

"It's fucking embarrassing is what it is," Kek hissed. "Get a room, you two."

Malik blazed past Ryou on the race track and left a banana peel in his path. "Oh, honey, that reminds me," he said to Ryou, "I'm going to crash at Bakura's place for a few days, if that's alright with you."

Ryou's delicate features became a mask of glee. "Of course it is!" he trilled. "Do you want some help moving your things over?"

"Nah, it'll be alright. Do you mind if I leave some stuff here? I'll take the rest with me."

"No problem at all. And you know you're welcome to come by whenever you like, right? Bakura should still have the spare house key I gave him."

Bakura dug in his pocket and pulled out his keychain, frowning at it a moment. "Yeah, it's still there," he said, tucking the chain away, "somehow."

"Thanks for not losing it. My landlord would give me hell if I couldn't return it someday."

Bakura grunted in affirmation, leaning ever closer into Malik. Seemingly uninterested in any further conversation, he focused further on the game.

Later, when they grew bored of Mario Kart, they played Smash Bros., and after that, threw a rubbish horror movie on. Bakura's head made its way into Malik's lap shortly after the movie's intro, taking advantage of the extra space afforded him when Kek decided to sit on the floor. Warm, happy and comfortable, Malik occasionally ran his hand through Bakura's hair, playing with the messy strands that had fallen out from his ponytail; he barely even noticed he was doing it, the soft, appreciative purrs from Bakura unconsciously spurring him to continue. Ryou, sat beside Malik, seemingly couldn't help glancing over from time to time, smiling and giggling at their close, almost intimate, contact.

"Doing okay down there, habibi?" Malik asked Bakura.

"Mm."

"Bakura?"

"Don't stop," Bakura muttered, nudging his head into Malik's open palm.

Grinning, Malik scratched behind Bakura's ear, delighting in the heavy sigh he made in response. "You're like a kitty."

Bakura rolled onto his back and scowled up at Malik. An odd tension rose and stiffened his shoulders, but they dropped back down after a few moments, accompanied by a roll of Bakura's eyes. "Shut up."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Malik brushed Bakura's fringe back from his face, seeing himself reflected in the deep pools of Bakura's brown eyes. Bakura continued to gaze up at him, looking a little pissed off, but Malik just thought the expression was cute on him. This interaction between them seemed such a far cry from the previous week, when there had been shouting and tempers flaring, that Malik hardly dared to believe he was being allowed this closeness to Bakura, let alone his former partner initiating it. Yet here he was, nestled into Malik's lap, giving the occasional shiver as Malik's fingers played over his scalp. His face appeared peaceful once Malik had stroked the tension away from his brow, the rest of his body assuming a rather rigid stance; Malik assumed he might have still been fighting off nerves from being so close.

Halfway through the movie, Kek grabbed an armful of snacks from the kitchen for them all to share. Malik politely declined, but Ryou tore eagerly into a "family-sized" bag of potato crisps, and Bakura occasionally sucked on a piece of chocolate as he watched the movie. It was getting towards eight o'clock now, and Ryou hopped up from time to time to go into the kitchen and prepare actual food, though, knowing him and Kek, they wouldn't be eating it until very late into the night.

On the third time Ryou got up, Bakura followed him, and Malik's ears pricked at the sound of the kettle starting to boil. Bakura reappeared soon after with a mug of coffee and sat back down beside Malik, eyes firmly fixed on the TV screen and any trace of former cheerfulness gone. "You look tired," Malik commented. "Need the caffeine?"

Bakura gave a shrug and raised the mug to his lips. Malik's gaze focused on his hands, and he frowned. "Bakura, you're shivering. Are you cold?"

"No," he growled in response.

"Are you alright?"

"Leave me alone, Ishtar."

Kek snorted, flicking an empty sweet wrapper in Bakura's direction. "He's withdrawing," he told Malik. "Probably hasn't had a drink for most of the day."

"Fuck you, other Ishtar," Bakura snapped.

"Yep, definitely withdrawing."

Is this just how dependent he's become? Malik worried, unable to look away from Bakura. He'd now deliberately shifted right to the end of the sofa, tucking his knees up against his chest, his face twisted in an ugly scowl. It was clear by how tightly he gripped his mug that he was trying not to let the tremors show, but it was futile, merely serving to direct them throughout his body instead.

"Bakura?" Malik tried again, tentatively.

He was met with a glare so deadly, he was surprised poison didn't shoot from Bakura's mouth when he opened it. "Do…not…push me, Malik."

Kek muttered several Arabic curses under his breath, and hauled himself off the sofa. He disappeared into the kitchen a moment, then came back with a shot glass of some pale brown liquid, which he dumped into Bakura's coffee. "Drink that and shut the fuck up."

"Kek!" Ryou yelled from the kitchen. "Did you just give Kura my whiskey?"

"Only a shot! How else was I going to get him to behave?"

Ryou poked his head round the door, looking reproachful. "You're terrible, love."

But Bakura just laughed and drained the peculiar mixture in several long gulps. "Thanks, freakshow," he said. "Now, I believe I've overstayed my welcome, if yadonushi's face is anything to go by, so I'll be taking my leave."

"Don't call me that," Ryou frowned.

"Hmm, yes...I suppose that's the wrong word. I'm not your tenant anymore, am I? No, I'm the rat dragged up from the gutter, where it was comfortable. Perhaps I should call you "traitor" instead."

Malik's mouth dropped open. How dare he?!

Ryou's eyes grew tearful, and he fled back into the kitchen without another word. Malik glanced to Kek, who shook his head, looking guilty. An enabler indeed.

"Coming?" Bakura asked Malik, already standing by the front door as if nothing had happened.

Ryou's soft sobs filtered through from the kitchen, and the sounds shook something in Malik, something primal and protective. He marched up to Bakura, prodding him forcefully in the chest. "You're a heartless prick, you know that?"

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Tell me something I don't know."

Scarlet rage simmered hot and fiery behind Malik's eyes as he fought not to punch Bakura in his arrogant face, but Ryou gave a loud sniff, and his anger abated ever so slightly. "I will deal with you in a minute, asshole," He spat at Bakura, then turned on his heel and stormed off to the kitchen.

He found Ryou washing up at the sink, sniffling, his head bowed, fluffy hair obscuring his eyes. "Hey, honey…" Malik wrapped his arms around Ryou, carefully prising a wet glass out of Ryou's hands and setting it aside. "I'm sorry you're having to deal with this right now. I know it must be tough."

Ryou scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, only managing to smear a few stray soapsuds over his cheeks. "I just want the guilt to stop," he whispered.

"You've nothing to feel guilty for."

"I dragged him back into the world…for what? For him to go and drink himself to death?" Ryou's voice rose, a bitter note tainting his words. "It was an accident, he knows that, but every single fucking day, he makes his feelings towards it known by ripping my heart to shreds, over and over again! I can't stand it, Malik! I can't take any more of this! So please…" He shook his head and pulled himself free of Malik's embrace. "…Please take him home. I can't bear to have him here a moment longer."

That was when Malik knew Ryou had finally crumbled under the strain of holding himself together. Ryou tried so hard to make it up to Bakura, knowing how his former darkness felt about being unceremoniously dumped back into the land of the living. But this…it was uncalled for, and not what Ryou, or anyone, deserved. Malik's soft, sweet friend hated letting anyone be privy to his sorrow, when he himself was so focused on making sure everyone around him was okay. For him to be breaking down in tears meant he'd had enough of faking being strong.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" Malik kissed Ryou's cheek and went back to the living room. As he stalked towards a smirking Bakura, he jabbed a finger in Kek's direction. "You are in big trouble, Kek, so for your sake and Ryou's, you'd best be sleeping on the couch tonight."

Kek scratched the back of his head. "Duly noted."

Malik grabbed Bakura by the arm and dragged him out the front door, away from the tension he'd created within.