This fanfic marks my official return to yuugiou fanfiction after not having written/posted any in three years. Hooray! It's a gift for my beloved onee-chan, Natoya, because she's genuinely one of the most amazing people I know and I wanted to do something for her because she deserves good things.
This is part of a series wherein Atem chose to stay instead of moving on to the afterlife, but in choosing to remain he damned Bakura to remain behind with him, though he is unaware of that fact. The two main pairings are Puzzleshipping and Thiefshipping, with smatterings of other pairings on the side. The title is from A.E. Houston's "Fragment of a Greek Tragedy", and the full line is, "not all that men desire do they obtain." Please enjoy c:
Not All That Men Desire
The first thing that greeted him upon entering the Turtle Game Shop was the smug face of the thief, and if there ever was a worse way to start a day, Atem couldn't name it. It wasn't that Bakura's face itself was frightening—he seemed to have lost much of the crazed edge to him these days, though he was still capable of contorting his face into a startling number of disturbing things, should he wish—but there was something off-putting about staring into the eyes of the man who had defiled his father's corpse by dragging it across the threshold of his throne room, however man years ago that had been. It was much more off-putting when one considered that Bakura (the darker incarnate; Atem had never been graced with the thief king's actual name, though he had to remind himself that this Bakura wasn't even the complete spirit of the original thief) wasn't here to rob them or slit their throats in sleep but had, in fact, been dragged in by his collar (courtesy of Marik's sister Ishizu Ishtar) at the behest of one Yuugi Mutou.
Sometimes, Atem wasn't sure whether to mentally curse or thank his younger partner for that.
Bakura's eyes surveyed him with frank disapproval, and Atem met his gaze with a challenging one of his own. The thief wasn't stupid enough to think he could deny Atem access to the place he called his home, but the fact that he had the audacity to pretend he could, even for a second, was enough to make the former pharaoh want to grit his teeth. Still, he kept his calm and waited until Bakura grew bored and stepped out of the way, as Atem knew he would eventually. Bakura was nothing if not a creature of habit, especially nowadays, and Atem had learned rather early on that it was only a matter of waiting.
In a way, he couldn't help but pity the thief, but he knew that if he dared show it that Bakura would only react with violent unpredictability. It couldn't have been easy, waking up only to find that the strange mixture of his soul had disintegrated even more, with Zorc's influence dying, leaving only the ghostly thoughts of the thief king he had once been. Atem could sympathise there, in a way, but he had begrudged Bakura his memories for a long time. He still did. Memories were things Atem would never be able to regain in their entirety, after all, and he had thought it unfair that Bakura should be allowed to remember, though Bakura had once snapped at him that it wasn't that simple.
"They're memories, you ignorant little king, of a life I never truly lead! They're someone else's, not mine, yet they are mine at the same time!"
"That hardly makes sense, Bakura."
"I see your penchant for stating the fucking obvious hasn't lessened any."
"At least you can remember, thief! Do not deny me the right to wish I could do the same, and envy you the opportunity!"
Bakura laughed, but there was something cruel and insane in it that made Atem's spine straighten.
"Listen to me, little Pharaoh, for I'll only say this once: there are some things better left forgotten; memories that, though not mine in their entirety, I would be completely-fucking-fine never seeing again! So take what you have and be fucking grateful, however hard it is for your royal self to do so."
He stormed off after that, leaving Atem to his thoughts and the knowledge that maybe, for the time being, there were some questions better left unanswered.
Shaking his head to rid himself of the memory, Atem walked passed the front desk of the game shop, conscious all the while of Bakura's eyes on him as he lugged the paper grocery bag to the kitchen in the back. He was promptly greeted by a flurry of movements as Yuugi came bustling out of the living room, a smile lighting up his face as he spotted the former pharaoh, and Atem felt an answering one flicker across his face as Yuugi boisterously announced his return to his friends, whose laughter he could hear from the living room. His amusement increased when Yuugi made his way over to him, stealing a quick kiss before his hands dug into the bag, an appraising noise leaving his throat as he pulled a couple bottles of glue out.
"And hello to you too, Yuugi," Atem said, his tone betraying his fondness as Yuugi looked up with a smile.
"Sorry," he said, somewhat sheepish. "Err, hi." He gave Atem a cheeky wave and laughed, and the former pharaoh sighed as the now-familiar realisation of his young partner growing up more and more entered his mind. Yuugi was not the shy, friendless boy he had been when he had first pushed the final piece of the puzzle into place. Unbidden, Atem's hands reached up to rest on the golden puzzle that hung around his neck, empty now, but a welcome weight all the same.
"Hello," Atem responded before he pushed himself away from the counter, shaking his head before he leaned down to steal another chaste kiss as Yuugi laughed.
"Our friends have been here all morning," he said, and Atem could not deny the way his chest warmed when Yuugi said our, "and we've made amazing progress! Although…" a small laugh left him, "Joey did knock over a couple of things."
"Is that why you texted me with a request for glue?" Atem replied, raising an eyebrow. Yuugi shrugged.
"Ah, yeah."
A silence, not uncomfortable, passed between the two of them before Atem asked, his voice hesitant, "And… the thief. He hasn't been doing anything? He hasn't said anything?"
"Atem—"
"I know, I know, I just… I can't trust him. Not yet."
Yuugi looked at him, his eyes severe, all traces of playfulness gone before he sighed.
"He hasn't been doing much," he said at last, measuring his words, which Atem noticed with a narrowing of his eyes. "Mostly he just sits there and offers up the occasional comment. He doesn't—threaten us, not seriously, if that's what you're going after. Relax, Atem."
"I don't like that thief being around here, especially with his equally unstable boyfriend," Atem said hotly, though he felt a prickle of shame when Yuugi looked at him levelly and sighed.
"I can't… say I'm entirely comfortable with him being here, but he hasn't done anything." Yuugi's voice was firm at the end, allowing no room for argument. It was a tone Atem knew well, and he inclined his head at the sound of it, silently acquiescing that there would be no arguing with Yuugi here. When Yuugi adapted that tone of voice, it was always best just to lower one's head and mumble agreement, even if it wasn't true. It proved to be in his best interest, for a moment later Yuugi's smile was back as he moved over to the microwave, opening it to reveal a steaming mug of hot something.
"Hot chocolate," Yuugi supplied helpfully. "I know you aren't fond of coffee."
Atem chuckled, for it was true. He had never grown accustomed to the bitter brew.
"Thank you, Yuugi," he murmured, accepting the white mug from Yuugi's hand and inhaling deeply, enjoying the wave of warmth that emanated from the cup.
"Now! I have to deliver this glue—I'll meet you in the living room," Yuugi said, clapping his hands together once, and Atem couldn't repress the smile that flickered across his face. Yuugi was never one to frown more often than necessary, and he always tried to bring cheer to anything he could. It was something Atem had long admired, and it was only one of the factors that had ended up leading his admiration down the path of affection.
"Besides," Yuugi continued, a small blush colouring his cheeks, "I owe Joey a game. He wants to know how I beat Kaiba in our last rematch." Atem's smile thinned a little at the mention of that, but if Yuugi noticed, he didn't comment, instead slipping out of the room with a grin. When he was gone, Atem allowed the smile to smooth into a small frown. He had known that, one day, Yuugi would surpass him in every way, and it was gratifying to see that he hadn't been wrong, but sometimes… he couldn't help the little twinge of discomfort he felt—the feeling of his pride being slightly wounded, as it was wont to do. It was he who had been the King of Games for so long, and to be bereft of that title was an odd sensation, one that resulted in a hollow feeling when he dwelled too long on it.
He did not but he would never voice that to his partner, and Yuugi was… he was always gracious in victory. Really, he couldn't think of anyone who deserved the title more than his young partner.
"You look liked you just swallowed a lemon, Pharaoh," Bakura's sneering voice said from the darkened doorway, and Atem already regretted not switching the lights on when he had first entered the kitchen. Lifting his eyes warily, he turned to face the thief, his fingers curled protectively around the white mug in his hands.
Bakura leaned against the doorframe, ankles crossed as he exhaled around his cigarette, and the resulting smoke make Atem choke down a threatening growl.
"Must you, thief?" he snapped irritably even as Bakura took another drag, deliberately slow, and Atem knew that it was Bakura's intention to annoy him to the point of provocation. Exhaling through his mouth, and almost choking on the stench of the smoke, he drew himself up to his full height—taller now that he had his own body, but still not quite as tall as his opponent—and glared at him.
"We don't want the smell of that getting into the furniture, Bakura," he said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. "Put it away."
Bakura just sneered at him. "I'm weaning myself off of the urge to slaughter innocents, oh mighty king. I thought you'd approve." He momentarily pulled the cigarette from his mouth, resting it between his index and middle finger.
"Then wean yourself outside," Atem replied, and he saw Bakura raise an eyebrow at the freezing tone he had adopted. But if he had been hoping that Bakura would turn around, properly chastised as he trudged his way out the back door, then he was mistaken. If he were honest with himself, though, he'd only be worried if Bakura had listened, and in a way, he much preferred the way the thief's eyes rolled, his head tilting back with the motion before his dark, dark eyes rested on Atem once more, the insolence shining within them making his blood boil.
This Bakura, with his caustic words and his total disregard for Atem's person, was an enemy he could combat, not like the one that had initially returned with him, the Bakura that was silent and sullen, with a disconcerting and empty look in his eyes.
"Sorry, I was under the impression you weren't king anymore, Pharaoh," Bakura drawled, and Atem had to place his cup on the counter before he shattered the porcelain with the sheer strength of his grip. "And as a not-king, you don't have the authority to tell me what to do, isn't that right?"
"Why do you try and bait me, thief?" Atem hissed, and Bakura looked momentarily surprised by the shift in the conversation before his sneer overtook his face again and his body shifted from a passive pose to an aggressive one, which had Atem on the defence before he had even registered the change. One hand outstretched behind him, Atem kept his narrowed eyes on Bakura's form, a challenge glimmering in his plum-coloured irises before he continued, "Ever since you've returned you've done nothing but try and bait me, or indulge yourself in destructive and disgusting habits! If it weren't for the fact that you have no paper trail, you'd likely be a convicted felon right now! What in the gods' names is wrong with you?"
"You sound stupid when you say that," Bakura snapped. "So piss off, unless you want to find out firsthand that there are no merciful gods!"
"It's hard to leave you alone when it feels like you're pushing your bad habits in our faces for the sheer purpose of getting us to inquire!"
Bakura laughed then, but it was a laugh that sent chills running down Atem's spine, his breath hitching.
"You think you know everything," he snarled when the laughter petered away, his head bowed and his face shadowed by his hair. "But, as is typical with you 'good' guys, you only know as far as your weak, mortal eyes allow you to see. In case you haven't noticed, Your Royal Highness, I don't particularly give a damn about you or any of your friends think. You try seeing what I do without indulging in some habits that have the lovely side-effect of making you relax and forget sometimes. No one's asking you to inquire."
"At least you have your memories!" Atem's voice had risen now, and he was aware of people stirring in the room just beyond. He didn't know how it had come back to memories, but somehow, between the two of them, it always did. "At least you can remember them! I have this big, gaping hole where memories should be and yet there is nothing! I have regained some of it, but so much is missing—"
"Oh whinge, whinge, whinge!" Bakura cut in, shoving past Atem on his way to the fridge. "Poor little pharaoh, with all his stupid little friends. Being a king wasn't good enough, being the king of fucking games wasn't good enough, he needs to have everything!"
"The memories are hardly too much to ask," Atem shouted. "You don't even appreciate yours, and you—"
Bakura turned on him so fast that Atem didn't even have time to inhale before he was backed against the counter with a knife to his throat. The wild look in Bakura's eyes was frightening, but there was something else there, a glint that made Atem's own eyes widen.
"Listen, Pharaoh—"
"Bakura!"
Bakura snarled and pulled away, but when he saw all the people standing in the kitchen doorway, he froze. Atem wasn't foolish enough to think that the presence of Joey, Tea and Tristan had been enough to still him, though—no, it was the oddly blank face of Marik Ishtar, who stood there with the rest of them, his hands gripping tight the doorframe. Though it wasn't him who had spoken (the shocked voice had been Téa's), it might as well have been for the effect it had on Bakura, who withdrew to a more shadowed part of the kitchen, like he was trying to blend into the blackness. Or perhaps Bakura was instead trying to hide the shadow that had passed over his face, the one that Atem caught before the thief's features morphed into a furious expression upon catching his eye before Atem looked away, his movements sharp.
"Bakura," Téa tried again, her voice both pleading and livid all at once. She started to move forward, as if to touch the thief, but when she got close her arm started shaking, and all Bakura had to do was level her with one of his more terrifying glares in order to get her to stop. The restraining hand dropped to her side, and she peered at the two former spirits, as if she could not quite fathom why they would still insist on fighting; why they continued their hostile interactions instead of putting aside their differences and forming not a friendship, but an acquaintanceship at the very least. Even Téa knew that friendship between the two men was about as likely as the Atlantic ocean freezing all the way through. Atem sent her a small, apologetic smile, and she returned the favour, though hers wobbled a little. She was a good friend, and Atem wouldn't begrudge her the hopes she held that someday he and the thief would be able to get along. Even Yuugi had been prone to dropping the occasional hint that maybe he should try improving his relationship with the darker version of Bakura, though Yuugi was intelligent and knew that it would require effort on Bakura's part as well—effort the thief just wasn't willing to put forward.
Or maybe he did, and then they both just mucked it up continuously. Who knew.
Atem turned his head to meet Yuugi's gaze, and felt a small stab of shame go through him at the young man's disappointed look, though Atem knew enough to know that it wasn't solely him Yuugi was disappointed with. He cocked his head towards his partner, and Yuugi stepped forward, inserting himself at Atem's side, his stance proud and unyielding; Atem's equal like no other. Despite his disappointment, Atem knew that Yuugi was, at that moment, viewing Bakura as a potential opponent, though he was less obvious about it, as opposed to Joey, who took the opportunity to spit some insult at the thief who met the jibe with a scathing comment of his own that made Joey's face flare.
Throughout it all, Marik just stood there, his eyes flickering back and forth between the belligerents, and the silent anger he radiated was enough to keep the three other people around him—namely Téa, Joey and Tristan—from asking him to calm Bakura down, as they otherwise might have. Atem wasn't foolish enough to think that Marik's silence meant he was on their side, though, for when his eyes did rest on the squabbling figures of the thief and Joey, it was at Joey his eyes burned with the brightest anger. It was enough to put both Atem and Yuugi on edge, for although Marik had repented after losing himself to his anger and the sinister alternate personality it had formed, his temperance was still something he had to struggle with. One did not simply erase years of behaviour, learned or otherwise, through one act of sacrifice.
Atem knew that more than anyone.
He became aware, almost distantly, of Yuugi's hand slipping quietly into his, and he gave the younger man's hand a gentle squeeze before pulling himself back to the present.
"Why do ya even come here?" Joey was saying, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest as Bakura regarded him the way one might a particularly disgusting insect, or a piece of gum on their boot. "Hey, Bakura! I'm talkin' to ya! Answer me!" When Bakura didn't reply Joey waved his hands in front of the thief's face, but to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Bakura who reacted but rather Marik, who was quick to grab Joey's wrists and push them down with shaking limbs that spoke of a concentrated effort to suppress a more extreme reaction.
"Don't," Marik said, and the tone of his voice was enough to make the hairs on Atem's neck stand up. He could feel Yuugi tensing beside him, his instincts honed, as Atem's were, to pick up oddities in an opponent's speech pattern and decipher them in time to react. Joey looked surprised at the intervention, and from where he stood, Tristan's face morphed into an expression of concern.
"Marik? Hey, man, what gives?" Joey asked, bewildered. From his cornered location, Bakura hissed another insult at him, and it made Joey's face redden again as he tried to whirl on the former tomb robber, only to be stopped by Marik's apparently crushing grip.
"Don't you call me no dog!" Joey snapped.
"Bakura!" Atem said sharply, though the only response he got from the thief was an equally sharp smile. Simultaneously, Marik stepped in front of the white-haired thief, forming a human barrier between him and Joey, and almost instantly Atem could see the fight bleed out of the blond. Joey may have had a fiery temper, but he wouldn't use it against his friends if he could avoid it. They had all learned too much together to jeopardise their friendships with explosive anger. Atem knew, also, that Joey's anger had stemmed from the threat on his own life, and he was grateful to know that his friend would defend him with words and fists if the need arose, even though Atem could take care of himself. For all Bakura waved that blade around, Atem knew that, had the thief truly wanted to kill him still, he wouldn't still be living. Likewise, he could tell the others in the room knew that, too, and though it shouldn't have, it negated the action somewhat.
"Look, Bakura," Joey said, his voice a low grumble. "I just don't get why ya insist on doin' this! I mean, ya held a knife to his throat! Ya think we're just gonna let that shit slide?"
"Your precious Pharaoh isn't exactly innocent," Bakura sneered.
"A knife, Bakura!"
Atem could feel Yuugi's eyes on him then, sharp, and he could feel the familiar prickle of shame that he usually got when Yuugi looked at him like that. He knew, likewise, that Yuugi would have worked out the reason for Bakura's own flare of temper and Atem's reluctance to speak while his friends fought on his behalf. It was a reproachful look, as was Yuugi's wont, but its meaning was clear: this isn't all his fault, and you aren't going to let them keep thinking that it is.
So, with a small sigh, Atem stepped forward.
"I may have—goaded him," Atem admitted, and though his instincts screamed for him to avoid the two pairs of sharp eyes that had snapped to his person, as well as the shocked ones of his friends, he continued on, "I said something that I… that I really shouldn't have." A rueful smile twisted his mouth, but his mouth tasted like ash, the flickering remnants of his currently burnt pride. Once he wouldn't have admitted anything, but while he disliked doing it, he also felt proud over being able to—something his time with Yuugi had taught him, which he was also proud to admit.
He turned to look at Bakura and Marik then, and held his stance strong and sure as Marik's eyes narrowed on him, doubtless working out, like Yuugi had, just what he and Bakura had been arguing about. The Egyptian's eyes burned with a cold kind of fire, and it was clear he was angry, more so at Atem himself now, though his vow to serve and protect the pharaoh stayed his hand, active even though Atem's form had become decidedly more corporal and stable; his secrets decidedly less important. As long as he existed on this plane Marik would, in a way, be bound to him, and Atem knew this was a sore point for both the tomb keeper and the thief he kept close to him. He almost winced when he thought of the hieroglyphic carvings on Marik's back, but he kept his face blank.
"What did you say?" Téa whispered, bringing one hand to her mouth, her eyes betraying her shock and surprise.
"Does it matter?" Yuugi murmured, and the eyes of all present instantly snapped to him, save for Bakura, who just snorted and turned his head so neither Atem nor Yuugi could see his face. "He said it, and it got out of control."
"Like Hell it doesn't matter—"
"For now, it doesn't," Atem said firmly, cutting the tomb keeper off. The thief merely shot a glare at him before he abruptly pushed past Téa and Tristan, leaving the two stumbling in the wake of the rough shove. For a moment, it looked as if Téa were considering going after him, but she ended up just shaking her head, a sorrowful look in her eyes as she turned back to Marik, whose expression Atem had a hard time deciphering this time around.
"It matters to me," the Egyptian said, his voice harsh as his mouth twisted into an unpleasant sneer. "What did you say, Pharaoh?" The way he said 'Pharaoh' wasn't as belittling or mocking as when Bakura said it, but it certainly sounded forced, as if he were trying to call Atem something else but someone had switched the words. "Tell me."
Atem saw Yuugi bite his lip, and he himself wanted to avoid the question. He knew Marik was completely aware of what he had said to Bakura, but it was equally clear that he wanted Atem to say it out loud. It galled Atem, that, and he could feel his pride warring with his words, and it hurt, because he should have gotten over this after almost losing Yuugi to his pride, he should have, but the thief always did have an uncanny ability to bring his worst traits out.
"You know what I said," Atem told him. "Forcing me to say it out loud won't change anything."
Something flashed in Marik's eyes then, and whether it was anger or something else the former pharaoh could not tell. He felt a stab of concern for the Egyptian when Marik closed his eyes, however, suddenly looking weary, his back hunching slightly as he rubbed one hand against his forehead.
"Sometimes, Pharaoh, I really have to remind myself that you were right, when I think about Kaiba's tournament." He glanced up then, looking tired. "Maybe this is an empty plea, but please don't bring up Bakura's memories around him again. You aren't the one that wakes up in the middle of the night to the horrors they still wreak." He walked out of the room then, leaving Yuugi and Atem alone, and Atem let out a shaky breath of relief as Yuugi slid his fingers into Atem's palm, letting the former pharaoh curl his own fingers around the proffered hand.
"Can I ever do the right thing with them?" he asked his younger partner, voice strained as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. He heard the sound of Yuugi walking, and the hand was withdrawn from his, only for Yuugi to place both of them on the sides of Atem's face, and when he spoke, his voice was low and soothing, his violet eyes devoid of judgement.
Yuugi always knew exactly what he needed to see and hear.
"I think it's hard to know what the right thing is, with those two," Yuugi said quietly. "They both have… things that they need to work around. Daemons. They aren't as lucky as us, other me. And some of those daemons are our fault, in a way."
Atem's hands rose to curl loosely around Yuugi's wrists, and he could not help the breathy and slightly nervous laugh that left his mouth.
"I'm not the other you," he said, as he had said one thousand times before. Yuugi only smiled, bringing Atem's head down to rest their foreheads together.
"But you're part of me, Atem," he said, reaching up to kiss the pharaoh's forehead before he chuckled and stepped back. "Now come on, we have some decorating to finish up. Mai'll be back soon, and Joey will be freaking if everything isn't perfect."
"You go. I'll be there in a moment."
Yuugi just smiled again, nodding once before withdrawing, leaving the pharaoh alone with his thoughts.
It took very little time for him to calm his racing mind, and to put his game face on once again before he rose to join the others, smiling as Yuugi's laughter reached him from the hallway, followed by an indignant comment from Joey.
He and the thief had many issues still to resolve, he knew, but for now, he was going to put it behind him, and simply enjoy the time he had to spend with his young partner. This second chance he had been given would not be wasted, and as he joined his friends, letting their laughter and love wash over him, Atem knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had made the right choice in returning to them.