This chapter includes: blink and miss it Psychoshipping and maybe some implied Darkshipping!
Chapter 9
Light follows Dark
Yami ran to Bakura, the Ring burning in his hands, all it's five points moving rapidly forwards.
Bakura was mostly cast in shadow, but Yami knelt down and easily saw the whiteness of his face. He looked as he had done the night before on the couch, like he might be having some terrible nightmare.
Barely hesitating, Yami put his hands on Bakura's shoulders. They were very cold and Yami could feel the trembling vibrations beneath them. He ignored that as best he could, and shook the Spirit.
"Bakura! Wake up!" he commanded. He felt angry when Bakura didn't.
Instead the Spirit sagged forwards, his head falling lightly against Yami's chest. It was a cold weight, and Yami tensed, hardly used to the close proximity, never mind the strange circumstances.
He pulled Bakura back up against the wall, the items jangling against his chest as he did. He looked down and saw both the Puzzle and the Ring were still glowing very vibrantly. The Ring's points were still on Bakura, like it wanted to return to him.
Yami wasn't sure how that might help, but then he remembered the other item that probably would; the Key still within his pocket.
He fumbled with one hand to pull it out and held it up. It shone brightly against the night, it's heat radiating hotter than both the Puzzle and the Ring combined. Yami realised he could use it.
He looked at Bakura with renewed apprehension. The Spirit was not sleeping; he seemed to be unconscious. Yami was touched with something like concern. He didn't like the Spirit, but he didn't like to see anyone in trouble like this either.
He wielded the Key like a trusty knife and closed his eyes, recalling Shadi's use of the item for a few seconds. Then he moved it toward Bakura, where it instantly began to light up, close to his forehead.
This was for the best; Yami could deal with Bakura's indignation later, but right now he needed to know what was going on.
He could still feel the Puzzle and Ring burning against his chest as he fell into Bakura's mind.
8
It was so cold.
Yami almost passed out as his body tried to adjust to the new surroundings. Everything was clouded and abstract, and he could barely make out the grey walls that indicated he was in a room of sorts. He recognised the presence of Bakura all around him though, as familiar as whenever he had sensed the Ring nearby from within his Puzzle. The very essence of the Spirit dwelled here.
He stood up unsteadily and squinted through the fog to see two figures. One of them was standing up and the other was kneeling down a few feet away, they were both watching each other.
Yami batted away his sickness as he edged closer, close enough to make out who they were.
Dark Marik was standing up, and Yami saw the veined lines of his face twist as he spoke;
"He's still here, then. A human dwelling within your mind. It makes me sick."
The one sitting down was Bakura. Yami could easily see the dark smirk on his face, and he spoke with an amusement that matched it;
"Your better half hates you just as much."
Dark Marik snorted; "better half? Is that what he is now?"
Yami took a step closer; neither of them had noticed him yet. The strange dark that surrounded him was a good enough hiding place, so it seemed. He remembered both the Puzzle and the Ring round his neck though, and felt better for having them.
"What is the point of this?" Bakura sounded bored; "If you want the items, you might try fighting me in the Shadow Realm, rather than invading my mind."
Dark Marik laughed. "I never said I wanted the items."
"Then what do you want?" Bakura frowned.
"Why haven't you worked it out, Spirit?" Dark Marik crouched down, barely centre metres away from Bakura. He shook his head, like he was disappointed; "I don't want items. Why should I? I don't want anything like that, really."
Bakura tilted his head, betraying any indifference he might have had; "Give me a clue, then?" he said humourlessly.
Dark Marik shrugged; "I want something we can't really take in our hands. I want to see a human's eyes and recognise the sort of fear they possess when they know everything is hopeless, when they know that their final moments are all they have left," he leaned forwards, close to Bakura. "You remember wanting that, right?"
Bakura didn't give much away, his expression quite neutral.
"You want your better half's fear," he realised.
"More than that, I want to destroy him. It'll be easy enough, he's a weak human."
"You're very confident. Rather like him, actually," Bakura grinned when Dark Marik's face dropped into a scowl. "Easy to wind up, too."
"I'm nothing like that pathetic creature."
A fog, very like the one that currently surrounded Yami, suddenly rushed from Dark Marik, and he grabbed Bakura by the collar at the same moment, covering him in a cloak of darkness.
Even though it was Bakura, and Yami hated him so much, his stomach still twisted and he thought he might be sick when the Spirit made a pained sound and shook against the attack. But Yami could only watch, frozen by the darkness all around him, and somehow compelled by the terrible sight.
Then Dark Marik waved his hand shortly, and all the dark fell away again like a curtain. He released Bakura, and the Spirit gasped and dropped onto his back, his chest heaving up and down at a fast rate.
Dark Marik stooped over him, placing a leg either side of the Spirit's torso. He bent down slowly, his voice soft and yet not comforting at all;
"Why not just save yourself all this indignity, and let me through?"
Bakura took time to respond. He was shaking rather badly, and yet when he turned his head Yami saw he was grinning.
"Sorry," he said in a cracked voice, "But I promised."
"Promised?" Dark Marik said curiously. He bent down a little more and squeezed his hand into a fist around Bakura's hair. He held it tight and pulled the Spirit up.
Bakura visibly winced, but his grin broadened, flashing sharp canines. His throat was exposed and there for Dark Marik, almost like some strange vampiric offering. Dark Marik seemed to notice it too, and he angled his head down, flashing his abnormal tongue.
Yami heard Bakura's weak moan, an odd mingling between pain and unwanted pleasure. Then Dark Marik lifted his head up, and Yami saw the blood dripping from his open, leering mouth.
More than that, Yami saw Dark Marik was smiling straight at him, through the fog. Yami started to move, realising he'd been spotted, but the dark swimming around him had suddenly become a sort of barrier, an invisible force stopping him from moving at all. He grabbed his items, but found them cold and useless in his hands. Something was stopping their powers.
He watched, feeling helpless, as Dark Marik turned back to Bakura;
"An ancient demon? Is that really what you are?"
"I suppose so." Bakura was still smirking.
Dark Marik licked his lips and shook his head; "I know you're not all demon anymore."
Bakura stared at him, his dark eyes glittering, but didn't say anything. Dark Marik tilted the Spirit's chin, forcing him to hold his gaze.
"I can sense humanity all around you. I saw it before, when I watched from within my weaker half's minds eye. The way you looked at him. And now, when you could so easily leave me to my weaker half, you insist on getting involved." he paused, his smile creeping wider. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Bakura shifted against his grip; "You misunderstand my motives."
"And yet you'd do all this to protect him," Dark Marik gestured their current position.
Bakura hesitated for too long; "I'm doing it for the items."
"That's not the reason."
A painful silence hung about, and Yami watched, feeling sick, as Bakura turned his head to the side, away from Dark Marik's gaze;
"I won't let you get to Marik." he said coldly.
Yami's stomach twisted; he didn't think Bakura could care like that.
Dark Marik's face lit up with a sense of triumph; "you don't deny it." he shifted over Bakura a bit more, so that his mouth was close to the Spirit's ear. He said something that was too quiet for Yami to hear, and Bakura's reaction didn't help.
The Spirit's face was guarded. Then he laughed loudly, shoving Dark Marik away with a sudden and vicious strength.
"I think you underestimate me." he stood up, and Yami noticed his legs shake a bit. "I'm going to ask you nicely, now. Promise me you will leave your better half alone."
"I am but the emotions of my weaker half's most twisted ideas." Dark Marik sat on the floor, cross-legged and beaming up at Bakura like a demented child. "Do you really think the concept of a promise means anything to me?"
"Not at all," Bakura shook his head; "but I'm offering you fair warning, else you shall be destroyed, and that is my promise."
"Shall I thank you for that warning?" Dark Marik laughed, then his eyes narrowed as he seemed to study Bakura; "you know, at first I thought a Spirit would be no fun to play with. But I think I was wrong." He weighed the Rod playfully in his hand for a few seconds, then stood up.
Yami watched Dark Marik walk away, his body starting to fade into the darkness that shrouded him. He turned to Bakura again with an intrigued expression.
"What makes you care about my weaker half so much, anyway?"
Bakura appeared to tense; "It's not your concern," he said. "Now, if you plan to attack me, let's not waste anymore time."
Marik shook his head, all curiosity melting away.
"Not now, Spirit, you have company."
Before Bakura could say anything, Dark Marik was vanishing into nothing. He turned with a sweeping sound, the strange sort of fog seeping into his body. Yami realised he was actually becoming the fog, and it was starting to thin away from himself too. He tested a foot, and found he could move again with some relief.
Despite this, all he could do was stand as frozen as before and watch Bakura. As the Soul Room became clear again, or as clear as it ever could be against it's grey backdrop, Bakura stood stock-still and stared up at the ceiling. He didn't seem to have noticed Yami.
In the next moment, the Spirit's legs quaked and he fell to his knees. His shoulders shook just a bit as he bowed his head.
Yami knew he shouldn't watch, but it seemed ridiculously pointless now, after everything else he'd already seen.
"Bakura," he spoke into the dark. His voice carried easily to the Spirit.
Bakura did not raise his head, but his shoulders stopped shaking.
Yami swallowed his apprehension, and closed the gap between them quickly. He knelt next to Bakura and noticed his body stiffen.
"Are you okay?" he ventured tentatively. It seemed he had to ask the obligatory redundant and stupid question.
Bakura didn't answer for a little while, probably only a few seconds, but it felt much longer.
"Do you have the Ring?" his voice was rough, leaving no room for conversation, despite everything. He didn't even raise his head to look at Yami.
"Er, yes. I have it right here," Yami held the Ring up.
"Give it to me," Bakura instructed, still not looking at him.
Yami bristled, holding the Ring a bit tighter. It was easy to forget everything that had just happened when Bakura sounded so forceful and familiar.
"Why?"
"Just give it to me."
"I don't want to fight with you, Bakura-"
"Neither do I."
"Then tell me why you want it-"
"-because without it I'm trapped in here!" Bakura snapped, and his angry glare was diminished by the terrible grey colour of his face, the sticky sheen of perspiration that exhausted his features. He looked like he might pass out, and Yami was shocked to find himself hating that. He pulled the Ring off himself at once.
Bakura took it with a thin, sarcastic thank you and then put it over his head. It glowed and hummed as he closed his eyes.
Yami watched with uncertainty; "What are you-"
"We need to get out of here. Use your own item, Pharaoh."
Yami didn't think to question him. He grabbed the Puzzle and felt it's warmth in his palms as light haloed all around him. Nearby Bakura's Ring did the same, until nothing but white exploded in front of his eyes.
8
When Yami opened them he felt spots of water dotting his arms. A cold breeze wrapped round his face and then he heard a weak groan in front of him. He blinked and caught Bakura's dead weight against him.
"Bakura?" he shook the Spirit gently.
Bakura's eyes flickered open, and he frowned vaguely. "How did you get in?" he asked in a faint voice, trying to push Yami away, but with little success. He groaned again and closed his eyes; "you shouldn't be able to..."
"I have the Key," Yami told him.
"Another item?" Bakura laughed weakly; "That's funny. I never knew."
"I never told anybody. Only Yugi," Yami explained, and moved an arm uneasily round Bakura's back. The rain was getting harder, and they needed to get back to the apartment. "Can you get up?" he asked, feeling doubtful when Bakura didn't answer.
Yami moved up onto his knees, gathering the back of Bakura's coat, to get a better hold of him. He grunted as he started to stand; Bakura wasn't very heavy but he wasn't very cooperative either.
The Spirit made a sound of protest, and Yami felt hands on his shoulders, pushing against him, trying to get away.
"I can get up," Bakura said angrily, and almost managed it. But wherever the small surge of energy came from quickly disappeared. Yami grabbed the Spirit as he started to collapse and quickly looped an arm round his shoulder, hauling him up.
"Yes, you really look like you can," he muttered.
"Shut up." Bakura managed a venomous glare.
If he could, Yami was sure Bakura would have hurt him. As it was, Bakura seemed far too weak, and even as he cursed against Yami's hold in a pained way, Yami remembered why he was like that, and realised he had to help.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Bakura glared at him a bit more, but spoke in an uneven voice; "So long as I have the Ring."
Yami looked at the item dangling dully round the Spirit's neck. "Yes, you've got it."
The words seemed to have a lulling effect on Bakura, and he sighed heavily, his head dropping onto Yami's shoulder.
Yami held him a bit tighter, and they made a slow, unsteady journey back to the apartment.
8
By the time they'd reached the apartment they were both soaked. The rain was really lashing down and the wind was whistling obnoxiously around them. Yami almost fell through the door, and barely managed to keep Bakura in his hold as he sank to his knees.
It didn't matter; everyone else was up to greet them, faces frantic with worry or accusation.
"Yami! Are you alright?" Tea said, but it was Marik who rushed through the shocked group and knelt by Bakura.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice a little high."Bakura," he placed a hand tight on the Spirit's shoulder, but Bakura's head was bowed and he didn't answer. Marik looked at Yami; "What's wrong with him?" he demanded, "what happened?"
Yami shook his head; "Marik, please let me-"
"-Did-did you do this?" the tomb keeper said savagely. "Did you hurt him-"
"Marik, calm down!" Ryou sounded upset.
"Shut up, Ryou," Marik shrugged the boy's hand away, his glare fixed on Yami. "If you hurt him-"
"No," it was Bakura who spoke, and he raised his head and gazed at Marik. "You're alright, then," his mouth curved up a tiny bit and he started to stand up.
Yami felt him stumble and caught him properly as he passed out.
"Bakura!" Marik cried, grabbing his arm in an instant; "Tell me! What happened to him!"
Yami rubbed his forehead. It ached as he recalled everything that had happened in the Soul Room. He saw Marik's distraught and angry face, his knuckles white around Bakura's arm. Yami didn't think he could tell Marik everything he knew, everything he'd seen. Not yet anyway.
He swallowed, and remembered Yugi in the Puzzle. He'd not thought to open his link to him through all of this, but now he wanted to speak to him more than anything. He knew his host would be waiting.
He shook his head, feeling Bakura's weight against him become a little heavier.
"Why don't you tell me!" Marik said fiercely.
It forced Yami to look the tomb keeper in the eye. Even if he so badly wanted to retreat to his Puzzle, to leave Yugi to handle all of this. Yugi was good with people, people were always understanding with Yugi...
"It was...your other half, Marik," he said instead, hoping his face looked gentle. He didn't know how else to put it. It wasn't a lie.
"Why-why is he doing this?"
"Marik," Ryou put a hand on his shoulder, "this isn't your fault-"
Marik rounded on him, his face incredulous;
"Who says I think that? I know it's not my fault!" he pointed at Bakura with a shriek; "it's him! He went back to the Shadow Realm when he knew he shouldn't...he was asking for it! He knew he couldn't beat my dark half...I knew he couldn't...and he still went..."
Marik's voice faded into a weak sob. He sunk onto a nearby chair, and Ryou sat next to him, patting his back and saying words that were supposed to be comforting. Marik seemed quite oblivious though, his teary eyes hard on Bakura.
Yami was still holding the Spirit upright. Bakura murmured something, but Yami didn't think he was very sensible. He felt the Spirit sink against him a little more, and then he noticed everyone's faces, cautious and unsure of what to do.
"Let's get him to the couch," Duke said rather sensibly.
Yami nodded, and Duke helped him, recoiling a bit when he got a proper hold on Bakura.
"He's freezing," he said, then shook his head; "No. He's always cold, isn't he? What can we do?"
"What about the hospital?" Serenity suggested, moving for the phone.
"No, that won't help," Yami shook his head; "he's not even alive, really."
"This is pretty messed up." Joey decided.
"If he's cold a hot drink never hurt," said Tea. "And you'll catch your death too if you don't get dry, Yami."
Yami didn't bother reminding her that he was a Spirit too, and pretty immortal with it. It was just nice to see a warm face that wasn't crying, angry or in pain.
Tea took the silence as an affirmative and went into the kitchen to make drinks.
Marik moved onto the couch, curling a hand round Bakura's.
"He is too cold...much colder than usual..." The tomb keeper's face was creased with a sick worry that had been only reserved for Odion before.
It seemed strange that a creature like Bakura might stir such emotion in someone, but then Yami remembered Bakura in the Soul Room, and suddenly it made much more sense. Yami's heart ached for Marik.
"He'll be alright, Marik," he said softly. "He's a Spirit. It's rather hard to get rid of him, you know."
"Unfortunately for us," Tristan grumbled. Serenity frowned and nudged him in the side. "What?" Tristan glared at the couch, "I don't trust him. Even if he is knocked out."
"Don't worry," said Joey, "We've got him outnumbered anyway."
"Yeah and next time he punches you we promise not to laugh," Duke smirked behind his hand.
"Punches?" Marik was confused.
"Nothing," Yami said quickly.
"What exactly happened, anyway?" Serenity sat on the edge of the couch.
"Isn't it obvious?" Marik said, before Yami could even consider offering up an explanation. The tomb keeper wiped a hand over his flushed face. "Idiot thought he could take on that...thing...He knew it was a stupid idea. He already tried it. I tried to warn him!"
"Marik, try to calm down," Ryou said soothingly, "We know he'll be okay. Yami just said-"
"-Right. He's already dead." Marik let go of Bakura's hand suddenly, and some sort of dark realisation passed over his face."So why do I...I don't know why I'm so worried."
The tomb keeper blinked at Bakura, and then stood up fast.
"I'm going to bed."
Everyone watched in silence as Marik disappeared into the bedroom, and Yami felt his stomach pang.
He rested his head in his hands and sighed, welcoming the quiet of the room, even if it was rife with uneasiness.
"I don't understand." Tea broke the silence, offering up a tray of hot chocolate; "How could Bakura get back to the Shadow Realm? He didn't have an item. We got the Ring off him."
"So it would seem." Tristan noticed the item laid across Bakura's chest, and he moved to snatch it up.
"No," Yami knocked Tristan's hand away, covering the Ring with his own. He felt Bakura's cold chest move against his palm, but the Spirit did not stir, "Leave it."
"What?" Tristan gave him an odd look.
Yami looked round, and noticed everyone else was looking at him too, as though he might be crazy.
"Are you crazy?" Joey confirmed the idea. "After we just got the item back off the wretched thing-"
"It doesn't matter right now," Yami said, trying to ignore their questioning faces, and then the lingering awkward silence.
"Er, did you get hurt too whilst you were gone?" Duke ventured after a moment, "Like a knock on the head, or something?"
"It'd make sense," Tristan muttered.
"Please," Yami tried not to glare. "Just trust me, we're better off with Bakura having the Ring for now."
"There's a first time for everything, I suppose," Serenity gave Tristan a faintly encouraging smile. He did not look convinced'
"Well. So long as we know that weird version of Marik isn't coming back again tonight?"
"Yes," said Yami, even though he knew he couldn't be sure.
He looked at the Ring, dormant round Bakura's neck, indicating they were safe for the moment, at least. It all depended on Bakura. The Spirit sighed in his sleep, and Yami was touched with guilt, remembering creeping up on the Spirit with the Key, and all of his suspicions.
"Er, I'll go see to Marik then," said Ryou, his eyes brief and uneasy on Bakura; "to make sure he's alright."
Yami nodded, "thank you, Ryou," he looked round at everyone else. "Get some sleep, all of you. I'll keep an eye on Bakura."
"At least have this," Tea pushed a hot chocolate in his hands. "And make sure you get some sleep too. Both of you," she eyed the Puzzle.
Yami gave her a thin smile; he couldn't manage much else.
8
Yami only managed to look properly at Bakura when everyone else had gone to bed. And even then, it did very little to ease his mind. The Spirit had not woken yet, but his expression seemed to have fallen into something more relaxed.
Yami breathed out a shaky sigh, and with it he opened his link up to Yugi, who felt full of anxiety and questions.
"It's my fault," Yami said in a rush, before Yugi could speak. "I took the Ring from him."
"You weren't to know," Yugi said, in a kind voice.
"It hardly matters. Dark Marik almost got back, because of me-"
"-yes, and this is Bakura, Pharaoh," Yugi reasoned. "It was common sense to take the Ring off him. We all know what he's capable of with that thing."
"Yes," Yami wanted to agree; it would have made all of this a lot easier. He would have agreed only a few hours ago.
But he had seen Bakura in his own Soul Room. A nasty, dank place, riddled with too much darkness. Very much what Yami had expected to find deep within the Spirit's despicable mind.
But there was something else there too.
Yami remembered the uncertain emotion that shouldn't have been within the demon Spirit, but was anyway. Yami had seen it there when Bakura had confronted Marik's dark half. He had seen it afterwards too, when Bakura had looked at Marik, just to know he was alright.
Yami shook his head to himself. It wasn't even possible...
He stared at the doorway which led to Marik's room, and wondered if the boy had half the inkling of what the Spirit seemed to be doing for him.
Bakura shifted in his sleep, tipping his head to the side. His hand quivered on his chest, fingertips touching the Ring in a subconscious sort of way.
Then he opened his eyes.
Yami swallowed, bracing himself for something, though he wasn't really sure what. Clearly the Spirit was far too weak to do anything very terrible right now anyway.
Instead Bakura blinked slowly, taking a while to get a focus on Yami. When he did, his mouth formed into a sneer.
"Still here, Pharaoh?" he asked in a taunting but strained voice; "I wonder why you bother."
Knowing and remembering Bakura's scornful face, it was almost enough to make Yami want to forget all the things he was beginning to wonder about the Spirit. He bit his tongue and decided to ignore that, though.
"Drink this," he held out his hot chocolate to the Spirit.
"What is it?" Bakura hauled himself upright with some difficulty.
"Hot drink. It'll make you feel better."
Bakura took it with suspicious hands, like it might be poisonous.
"Drink it," Yami repeated. "Or would you like a cold too?"
Bakura eyed Yami intrusively, but didn't say anything. He tipped the cup back and Yami watched him drink with a little satisfaction. He wondered why he should care, though.
Bakura's nasty laugh, mingling into a cough, made him wonder even more.
"What's funny?" he asked, trying to be patient.
Bakura shook his head, taking time to compose himself. "Nothing." he sank back down
into the couch. "I suppose you want my thanks?"
Yami blinked at him. "For what?"
"For helping me out." Bakura curled his lip, like he'd tasted something bad. "Don't make me repeat that."
"I don't want your thanks," said Yami, surprised that the Spirit had even considered it.
Bakura looked mildly surprised too, but amused with it.
"Well. That's just as well then, isn't it? Since I would never thank you."
Yami twitched his hands into instinctual fists, then felt Yugi's link within him. He had to keep calm.
"That was very clever of you, though," Bakura said conversationally. He shifted on the couch, and even though he was in fairly pitiful condition; clothes and hair soaked, and a little blood seeping from his neck, he still somehow managed to look as cocky and self-assured as ever. It was almost an admirable trait.
Yami shook the idea quickly out of his head.
"What was clever?" he asked.
"Using the Key, to get into my mind."
"There wasn't really any other option. It was just lucky I had it with me."
"Dumb luck, you mean?" Bakura seemed disappointed. "I should have known."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it's supposed to mean." Bakura folded his arms. "Although I must say, I expected that sort of thing from Yugi, but never yourself, Pharaoh. I always thought you had more brains than that."
"Leave Yugi alone." Yami uncurled his fists, feeling his rage starting to build. It didn't take much when Bakura was talking.
"Sorry," Bakura said, not looking sorry at all.
"Would you have preferred if I didn't come after you with the Key?" Yami asked angrily. "Would you have preferred if I had just left you to dark Marik's devices? Whatever he had planned to do with you?"
Bakura looked stung and maybe a bit sick.
"I would have preferred that you never took the Ring from me in the first place. Then all of this could have been avoided!"
"I didn't know!" Yami said, feeling hot. "If I had known, I would have...I would have let you keep the Ring."
Bakura laughed, his whole body shaking with the strange, unfounded amusement.
"It's true!" Yami snapped. "I'm not so heartless as you!"
Bakura just laughed harder, his eyes shining even in the dark; "Am I supposed to believe that?" he mostly choked through his disbelief.
"Yes," Yami set his jaw. "And after all you've done to us in the past, you should thank me for bothering to save your vile little life."
It seemed to set Bakura off even more, onto the edge of gleeful hysterics.
"My vile little life!" he exclaimed; "You..you really don't remember anything, do you, Pharaoh?" he tossed his head back.
Yami couldn't stand it. He grabbed the Spirit roughly by the shirt, drawing him very close and speaking in a low, dangerous voice;
"Snap out of it, you maniac."
Bakura quietened, and his grin relaxed into a tired smile. His eyes fixed on Yami's narrow ones for a short moment, then he bowed his head, so that he seemed to focus on Yami's chest. Yami realised he was looking at the Millennium items. The Puzzle and the Ring were hanging off both of them, glowing faintly and touching each other a tiny bit.
Yami drew a breath, trying to temper his impatience.
"What...what don't I remember?" he asked slowly.
Bakura didn't answer him, but he placed a hand carefully on the Puzzle, like he might be entranced by it.
Then Yami felt the taut and strained presence of his enemy's link, somehow mixing into his own. It felt as it always did when he sensed the Ring's presence, and the Spirit itself. The feeling that usually inspired hatred and a need to react, but now Yami felt something else there too.
Through Bakura's flowing link, Yami could feel fragile, exhausted energy that shivered as it entered his mind, like it was almost too weak to sustain itself for very long. Yami couldn't tell if it was dark or not, but it was new and he'd never felt it before.
As the damaged energy twined through him, Yami opened up his own link completely, and allowed it to flood into Bakura's. He was unable to stop himself; these feelings that had suddenly found him, they were new and exciting.
It was dizzying, to know another Spirit. Another ancient, five thousand year old being that existed essentially as he did. To feel like he wasn't so alone in his predicament. To know that this mind had lived as he had done all those years ago. It was a wonderful thing. Even if it was Bakura.
His own mind, gushing like electricity within Bakura's link, must have had a similar, if more overwhelming effect on the Spirit. Yami could feel Bakura trembling against him.
It pulled Yami to his senses, and he realised how incautious and foolish he was being. He couldn't trust Bakura snooping about his mind! And Ra- Yugi was in there! Yami grabbed Bakura's shoulders, feeling the Spirit shudder irregularly.
Yami had forgotten how close they were; he could see the delicate flutter of the Spirit's lashes as he seemed to sag against him. Bakura looked flushed and more exhausted than ever.
"Pharaoh," he said breathlessly; "you shouldn't feel so angry all of the time. It must be nice...to be a soul, and nothing else...must be nice..."
Bakura's vague smile fell into a grimace, and then he closed his eyes and seemed to pass out, his presence slipping out of Yami's mind altogether.
Yami tried, as his mind became clear, to process what the Spirit had meant.
"Pharaoh?" Yugi's voice interrupted, soft and near the front of his mind.
"Yugi, are you alright?" Yami asked anxiously.
"Of course, I'm fine."
"Did he- did Bakura-"
"Something's happened to him, hasn't it?" Yugi interrupted.
"What?" Yami whispered.
"The Spirit, I mean. Something happened to him."
"I don't ..." Yami tailed off and looked at Bakura, who was quiet and still against his chest. He could still feel the strange presence of the Spirit ghosting his mind, and he knew Yugi had felt it too. "Yes, something's happened."
There was no point denying anything, Yami knew his host better than that, and Yugi knew him well enough too. They didn't keep secrets.
"He's soaking," Yugi observed.
Yami deliberated a moment, then pulled- or more peeled, Bakura's wet jacket off him and replaced him gently back on the couch. Bakura stirred a little, and opened his eyes, but didn't really seem to see Yami even as he stared at him.
Yami bent close to the Spirit.
"You're protecting Marik, aren't you?"
Bakura frowned, like it was hard to register the idea.
"Is that what it is?" he asked.
"It's.." Yami faltered. He didn't really know how he was supposed to answer Bakura's confused expression.
Bakura didn't seem interested in his answer anyway. He tossed his head and closed his eyes, dropping off into sleep fairly quickly.
Yami stared at him.
"Protecting Marik?" Yugi repeated through their link.
Yami leaned back in his chair, and sighed. "Why would he do that anyway?"
He felt Yugi's hesitation, and then his voice within his mind again; "Maybe he cares?" Yugi saw the best in everyone. Even demonic Spirits, apparently.
Yami kept his gaze on Bakura, wanting to be doubtful, but finding himself mostly confused instead. His mind ached with the remnants of the Spirit's link, and all the new feelings that lingered there.
"Maybe," he said at last.
He didn't really know anymore. Even if he didn't trust Bakura, he still didn't know.
88
Marik was the first to find the note from Yugi on the table the next morning.
He hadn't had a good nights sleep, having spent most of it trying not to think about Bakura. So what if he actually cared, and didn't want Bakura to be hurt; Bakura was not a person, he probably didn't even feel real human pain anyway. It didn't matter. Marik shouldn't have to worry.
He managed not to look at Bakura as he ate his breakfast, occasionally scanning the note, and feeling reassured that Yugi had added a PS, telling them all that Bakura should be okay.
"You're up early." Ryou came in, looking sleepy and with messy hair. He peered cautiously at the couch. "Is he...?"
"Read this," Marik handed Ryou the note. He watched as the pale boy's face set into confusion when he finished it.
"Yugi's gone out? Where did he go?"
Marik shrugged; "search me."
"Maybe the Spirit can tell us?"
Marik snorted and turned back to his cereal. "It's your funeral, but go ahead."
"Don't be like that." Ryou sat down, near to him, "I don't think..." he lowered his voice, looking round the room for a short second. "I don't think he's so bad, really."
"Well good for you," Marik stirred his spoon idly. "Let me know when you realise you're talking rubbish."
Ryou pouted. "He worried about you."
"I don't believe it." Marik shook his head. "He doesn't have the ability. It's like talking to a robot. A really broken robot."
"What's a broken robot?" Tea came into the room, her hair wet and making her look a little drowned. "Don't use the shower. It likes to torment people."
"That would have been a nice warning yesterday," said Ryou. "When I was alternating between freezing and burning."
"Yes, this place is full of charm, isn't it?" Duke strode in, immaculate as ever. "How's my favourite tv repair demon?" he peered over the couch at Bakura; "Aw, sleeping like a baby. A demon dead baby, but still quite sweet."
"Or a really broken robot," Ryou muttered.
Marik gave Duke a curious look; "tv repair demon?"
"Oh, didn't you know? Millennium items make great tv tuners, apparently." Ryou informed. "We were very productive yesterday," he added as an afterthought.
A freezing, shower cursing Joey appeared a little later, to be comforted by Tea and a hot cup of tea. Serenity sat in a dressing gown and bunny slippers nearby, eating toast and laughing at her brother.
Tristan was the last to make an appearance, and kept rereading Yugi's note with a very suspicious face.
"He said he wouldn't be long, and he's not even answering his phone."
"It's not been very long," Serenity pointed out. "Let's give him a little longer before we start panicking."
Tristan glared at the couch; "why don't we just wake it up and be done with it? I know you're all thinking it."
"Don't be silly," said Tea. "He hasn't moved at all."
"It has the Ring, it wouldn't need to," Tristan argued.
"You're paranoid," Joey said through a mouthful of toast.
"Oh, just because we happen to have an evil Spirit in the room, with the potential to banish us all to the Shadow Realm, and for some reason, conveniently, Yugi has disappeared, without even bothering to tell us where, suddenly I'm paranoid?"
"...Well, when you put it like that," Joey scratched his head, and looked a bit wary.
"I doubt the Spirit would be up to much," Tea reasoned. "I mean it wasn't in such great condition last night, was it?"
Marik felt her eyes on him, and he knew she was giving him a sympathetic look, like she expected him to be so concerned. He'd surprise her and just keep eating his breakfast, then.
"I still don't understand why Yami said it should keep the Ring," said Serenity. "Anyone else think that's a bit odd?"
"It's more than odd. It's loopy, is what it is. We're all askin' for trouble, ain't we?" Joey gave Tea an apprehensive look.
"Shouldn't we be trusting Yami?" she frowned. "If he says it's okay, I believe him."
"Only because you're in love with him," Serenity smirked.
Tea gave her a light shove and blushed furiously; "that's not true. And even if I was, I wouldn't let it cloud my judgement!"
"Right," Serenity laughed. "Nice to know your judgement hasn't been clouded then."
Tea sighed in the direction of the couch, where Tristan was standing over the Spirit with a distrustful face.
"I don't think anyone who can fix a tv is truly evil." Duke remarked. "I'm sorry, that's just my opinion."
"Your opinion is crazy, therefore invalidated," Tristan said.
"Like I care what you think," Duke said haughtily. "Come on, you guys. I'm with the Yugi-Spirit loving girl here," he jerked his head at a reddening Tea; "if the Spirit guy in Yugi says it's okay, I think we can trust that the demon guy hasn't done anything to him in the last few hours, right?"
There was a small, undecided silence. Then Ryou, to everyone's surprise, scraped back his chair and walked over to the couch where Bakura was still sleeping. He knelt down and spoke in a soft voice;
"There's only one way to really know, isn't there?" he nudged Bakura's arm before anyone could object.
Bakura took his time about waking up, and Marik tried to be nonchalant about peering over his breakfast to look at him.
The Spirit looked tired and groggy, but better. Marik realised he felt very relieved about that, especially when Bakura did an admiral job of pushing Ryou away. He'd obviously gathered most of his strength back then.
"Sorry," Ryou edged quickly off the couch, "I- we just wanted to talk to you, if that's okay?"
"Don't bother with the pleasantries," Tristan said, "he's talking and that's that."
Bakura rubbed his eyes as he sat upright, looking past an expectant Tristan to meet Marik's gaze. Marik quickly averted his eyes to his breakfast. Now that Bakura was awake, the tomb keeper could feel their link reforming, and Bakura was completely open to him. Marik ignored it, and closed his own link up. He knew better than intruding now.
"Hey. Are you listening?" Tristan snapped.
Bakura gazed idly up at him; "Yes?"
"Are you going to explain yourself?"
"Explain what?"
Tristan dangled his cell phone in front of the Spirit; "about how convenient it is that you can't get a phone signal whilst trapped in the Shadow Realm?"
Bakura pulled a face; "I haven't any idea what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me," Tristan warned.
"Lie about what?" Bakura flashed a lazy grin. He seemed to enjoy winding Tristan up, and it was working.
Tristan stepped closer to the Spirit, balling his hands into fists; "What have you done to Yugi?" he demanded.
"What would I want with that little twit?" Bakura folded his arms. "Perhaps you mean the Pharaoh?"
"Does it matter which? If one's missing, they both are!"
"Hey, let's just calm down," Duke cut in, before Tristan could get any closer, "you can't go accusing like that, you don't have any proof."
"Like I need any!" Tristan shoved Duke, "get out of the way."
"Hey!" Duke shoved him back.
"Boys!" Tea interrupted; "This isn't helping anything!" she leaned in to both of them and lowered her voice; "also, your target of affection is not getting any more impressed with either of you right now."
Duke and Tristan turned obviously to Serenity, abashed and apologetic.
Duke cleared his throat, glaring briefly at Tristan before rearranging his face into something cheerful. He sat on the couch, near to Bakura.
"I'm surprised really. You'd think cell phones would have good reception in the Shadow Realm, after the tv thing."
Bakura curled his lip; "is that what you think I did? You think I banished your precious Pharaoh?"
"Wonderful deduction," said Tristan.
"You might also deduct that I did no such thing," Bakura said sourly, "Since the Puzzle is still not in my possession. Why would I waste my energy banishing a Millennium item to the Shadow Realm? Especially when one has already been lost to it."
"He has a point," Joey conceded. "Maybe we should actually believe the note."
"Ra forbid you lot do something involving common sense," Bakura rolled his eyes.
"Shut up." Tristan growled.
Ryou quickly moved between Bakura and Tristan, offering the Spirit some toast and smiling eagerly; "are you feeling better?"
Bakura gave him an odd look. "Yes." he took the food anyway.
"Oh good. We were worried, for a bit," Ryou glanced at Marik.
Marik's face burned as he felt Bakura's eyes on him. But the Spirit looked blank, like he couldn't understand anyway.
Good. Marik didn't want Bakura to think he worried, anyway.
"Speak for yourself," Tristan snorted; "I was worried for us."
Bakura did not seem to acknowledge Tristan's words, or if he did, it didn't seem to bother him. He stood up, and Marik couldn't help but notice he was a little unsteady on his feet. Still, he walked to Marik with intent.
Marik turned to the sink, pretending to wash dishes.
"Marik-"
"Nothings wrong, Bakura," Marik said quickly.
Bakura hesitated, and Marik took the opportunity to glimpse the Spirit's link. It was still open wide for him, but Marik only dared find the most prominent emotion within him; a jittery sort of confusion.
"Why are you angry?" Bakura asked, proving the emotion.
"It doesn't matter," Marik slammed a cup down. "It's not like you'll listen, is it?"
He turned away, not waiting for Bakura's answer, before addressing the entire room;
"I'm going to visit Odion for a bit." he said, then felt Bakura's hand on his arm.
"I'm coming with you," the Spirit said forcefully.
"Fine," Marik pulled away, but turned round to look at Bakura properly for the first time that morning. He did his best to ignore the pale, tired looking face, and withdrawn features. He eyed the millennium item; "then leave the Ring here."
"What?" Bakura looked confused.
"Leave the Ring here," Marik repeated impatiently, "Then I can know you won't try to go back to the Shadow Realm. Or something stupid like that."
"Yeah, I'm liking that idea," Tristan stood near to Marik.
Bakura looked between them both, as though considering what to do.
"But Yami said he should keep-" Ryou started to speak.
"I don't care what he says," Marik snapped.
He really didn't. He just wanted Bakura to listen to him for once. He kept his gaze steady on the Spirit, waiting for his response.
Bakura looked strangely awkward, watching Marik for a few uneasy seconds. Then he pulled the Ring off with halting hands. He handed the item to Ryou without a glance in his direction, and smiled wryly at Marik;
"Happy?"
Marik wasn't; he wouldn't be happy until he knew Bakura wouldn't leave, and go do something stupid and get hurt again. But for now things would have to do.
"Let's just go." he sighed.
"Take this," Ryou pressed a cell phone into his hand. "It's got Yugi's number, just incase."
"Incase what?" Marik was completely bemused by Ryou's concerned face.
"I don't know. Just incase." Ryou held the Ring up doubtfully. Marik caught the awkward glance between he and Bakura, like they both knew something he did not.
He tried not to care, as he staved off his curiosity, shutting off the link between himself and Bakura completely. He didn't have to know anymore. He could learn not to care.
88
notes: Bakura/Marik people, this story is still going along that path! Although it has been mostly gen fic up to this point, it should step up a gear in the next chapter ;)