Notes: Here be chapter 2, thanks for all the lovely reviews! I was wondering what reaction I'd get for writing about a subject like this, but nobody seems too worried about it. To whoever asked - yes, I will be continuing Twist of Cain at some point after I've finished this. If I can remember where I put my plot book, that is. Anyway, enjoy.

Use the Man

Chapter 2

The walk to Ryou's usually took him around twenty minutes if he went straight there, but most nights if it was dark enough he did a little 'work' first. The route to his light's house took him through the center of Domino, and he weaved his way through the crowds of people heading home from work, occasionally bumping into whoever looked to have the deepest pockets. He had a rucksack slung over one shoulder and each wallet or purse he managed to lift went straight inside until, after about an hour, he had a full haul. The crowds thinned out as the shops closed and Bakura turned towards where Ryou's flat was, ducking into an alley and behind a large dumpster. Once there he opened his rucksack and took out the four wallets and three purses he'd acquired, taking the money out of each and emptying it back into the backpack before tossing the rest into the dumpster.

With around fifty thousand yen – because he knew how to pick his targets – for an hour's work, Bakura smirked, slung his rucksack back over his shoulder and walked the last hundred yards to his hikari's home.

Standing outside the door of the small – but larger than his – flat, Bakura hesitated a moment before pressing the bell. He always felt incredibly guilty when he went to see Ryou, even though the hikari practically begged him to come over at least twice a week. Pressing the bell at last, Bakura wondered what he'd do without Ryou. The hikari was the one person on the earth that had ever worried for him, since his family had been slaughtered thousands of years ago. Although, what Seto Kaiba had said to him today made him wonder. There had to be some reason for the CEO to be asking about his health, other than him actually caring. It was a well known fact that Seto Kaiba didn't give a damn about anyone except his younger brother Mokuba.

"Yami!" Ryou greeted as the door opened, closing again briefly so that Ryou could remove the chain. An instant later it flew open and Bakura caught the boy, who flung his arms around his yami affectionately.

"Hikari. Is everything alright?" The thief asked, allowing his light to lead him inside like a sheep, herding him over to the comfy-looking couch.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. Don't worry!" Ryou smiled sweetly, sitting down next to his darker half.

"Did something happen?" Bakura asked, raising an eyebrow in question because Ryou seemed more excited than usual today. The thief placed his rucksack down on the floor and was thankful of the soft sofa, wondering how Ryou managed to make such a small apartment so inviting. The place was a little haven of calm and innocence, and it always managed to make him feel out of place. It wasn't the type of place someone like him should be, but he couldn't bring himself to say no to Ryou.

"It's a secret." Ryou smiled again, and Bakura half expected him to giggle.

"Oh?" The thief cocked his head to the side with a smirk, knowing Ryou wanted him to push for answers. "And you think I cannot keep it?"

"That's not what I meant," the British teen laughed softly, standing up again. "Dinner's almost ready, do you want tea or coffee?"

"Coffee," Bakura chose, although it didn't really matter to him. He just liked the distasteful look Ryou always gave because he seemed to run entirely on tea. Doing nothing to dispel the stereotypes there. Following the hikari into the kitchen, Bakura leant against the counter on the opposite side of the room, watching the boy go about making their drinks and preparing the stew he'd been cooking.

"So, are you going to tell me this secret of yours, or am I going to have to nag at you all through dinner?" The former tomb robber threatened with a smile of his own, liking the smell of the stew as it simmered away. He'd never been one to eat much anyway – even less now – but he made sure to finish whatever Ryou gave him on the days he visited.

"Alright, you win." Ryou caved, handing him a hot mug of coffee and moving over to the cooker to scoop them out a bowl of stew each. Bakura took his coffee and Ryou's tea over to the small table in the joined kitchen and dining room, sitting down as the hikari bought the meals over and joined him.

"Well, Malik and I were partnered up for a biology assignment and he asked me out to dinner to talk about it." The hikari grinned, putting far too much salt on his food.

"That seems a little much just for an assignment." Bakura commented, digging into the food Ryou had placed in front of him.

"I know!" Ryou giggled, having had a crush on the Egyptian hikari for years. "Do you think he likes me?" The boy asked, looking hopeful.

"He would be a fool not to." Bakura replied gently, thoroughly enjoying the food Ryou had made, as usual. "When is this date of yours?"

"It isn't really a date..." Ryou trailed off, smiling shyly. "It's this Saturday."

"It sounds like a date to me. Are you nervous?" The yami asked, watching the soft blush on Ryou's pale cheeks. Malik was as shifty as it was humanly possible to be, but Ryou liked him and it was Ryou's choice. Besides, the Egyptian hikari wasn't as bad as his reputation made him sound. He'd actually calmed down quite a lot, and Bakura liked the fact that he chose not to associate with the pharaoh's group where possible. Apparently little Ryou was an exception, although if Malik ever hurt him in any way he was going to find himself on the king of thieves' bad side. That was generally not a good place to be.

"Not really..." Ryou lied, sipping his tea. It was wonderful to listen to all the hikari's mundane, every-other-teenager-in-the-world problems. Bakura had never had the chance to experience them for himself, and watching Ryou go through it almost made up for the fact. He liked to see his light having a normal life – something he was never going to have for himself because of what he was and where he'd come from. He'd thought he'd cursed Ryou to the same fate, but the hikari seemed to be managing well enough. Sometimes he wondered if he should disappear, leave the boy to it. Having an ancient Egyptian thief turn up for dinner twice a week probably wasn't doing him any good, but he got the feeling that Ryou needed him there. The only family he had was his father, who was off on his trips around the world so much that he was rarely ever around. That made him Ryou's only family.

"You'll do fine, you have nothing to worry about." Bakura reassured, finishing his meal and draining the last of his coffee. As he placed his mug down he noticed once again the tremor in his hands, getting worse as the night wore on. "I should go, I still have to buy a few groceries before I head home."

Ryou finished his tea and stood up as Bakura did, stepping over to hug his yami tightly.

"Alright, but get some rest. You look a little under the weather." The boy ordered, noticing how thin his darker half had gotten but saying nothing about it. His ribs were sticking out a little, but Ryou was sure it was just a cold or something making him lose weight. He couldn't think of anything else it might be, and Bakura had eaten everything he'd cooked.

"I will, don't worry." Bakura forced a smile, waiting for his light to let him go and show him to the door. "I'll see you on Sunday, have fun with Malik. If you need anything just call me, alright?"

"Ok, bye yami." Ryou said, giving that little, innocent smile that made him look like an angel and handing the yami his rucksack. There were no angels in Bakura's culture, but as soon as he'd discovered what they were he'd decided that Ryou definitely fit the description.

As Ryou closed the door he watched Bakura walk off into the night, wondering if he should be worried. Probably not, Bakura was the one person he knew that could get through anything by himself. Besides, if his yami needed him he would have said something, right?

XxXxX

Bakura headed to the nearest seven-eleven, ignoring the polite smiles of the staff and grabbing a basket. Now that he was away from Ryou the craving was kicking in and the shaking in his hands was becoming noticeable to the few other customers in the store, who were giving him a wide berth. Not particularly caring, he grabbed a few groceries – instant ramen and oranges, mostly – and paid for them with a handful of the thousand yen notes that were stuffed into his rucksack. The staff gave him more polite smiles on the way out, which he once again ignored. He only ever cared when Ryou smiled. Everyone else could go to hell for all it mattered to him.

It was usually a nice walk back to his own apartment in the dark, through the semi-deserted streets of Domino city. Tonight he just wanted to get home, and the walk that would normally have taken him twenty minutes he managed to cover in half that. Heading up the rusty metal fire escape to the back door of his tiny flat, he dug out his keys and spent a minute or so trying to unlock the door, his hands shaking too much to get the key in the lock. When he finally managed it and let himself into the kitchen he slung the bag of groceries on the counter and tossed the rucksack next to it, along with his keys. He could sort everything out in the morning. For now he locked the back door and stalked through the dark apartment, shedding his coat and throwing it over the back of a chair. Letting himself into his bedroom he closed the door behind him, leaning against it and sighing because he'd finally closed the door on another day full of hassle.

His room, like the rest of the small apartment, was dark and silent. There were a few trinkets and things laying around to personalize it a little, but in the permanent gloom that hung over the place it was hard to see anything, which was just the way he liked it.

First things first, after a long day he wanted a little music to fall asleep to. The stereo – some cheap piece of crap he'd lifted from somewhere-or-other – sat on the dresser next to a pile of CDs, their cases stacked haphazardly because he could never remember to put them back afterwards, and it was too much effort anyway. Too tired to pick anything specific, Bakura pressed the play button and let the room fill with whatever he'd put in there last. Metallica – Breadfan. That would do, songs about money always vaguely reminded him of Seto Kaiba and that wasn't such a bad thing. There was nothing he particularly hated about Kaiba, which was unusual. He wasn't sure he liked the CEO, but he didn't dislike him. He was tolerated, and occasionally amusing to talk to when they were actually in the same place long enough to have a conversation - which admittedly didn't happen very often.

Well, the music was playing and the craving was really getting to him now, so it was time for bed. Opening the drawer in the dresser beneath where the CD player lived, Bakura stared down at the two syringes laying on top of a folded black bandanna. For the first time since he'd started doing this more than four months ago, he looked down at the needle in his hand and felt like he was doing something wrong. Not wrong as in morally wrong – he usually had no problem with that – but wrong in the way that it might be something that could hurt Ryou. Still, his hands were shaking more than ever and his head was pounding, cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck and making him shiver. If he had to, could he give it up? Put it back in the drawer and just go to bed without it? A month or two ago he would have sneered and said yes, of course he could. He wasn't that weak. Now, though, he had his doubts that he could get through the night without it.

Taking one of the syringes and the bandanna, he closed the drawer on the last needle and headed over to the large bed, kicking off his shoes and sitting in the middle of the soft sheets. He stripped off his shirt, all the while thinking about the fact that he only had one more day left after this and then he would have to see Keith again, something he never enjoyed.

Tying the bandanna tightly around his upper arm, he ran his eyes over the track marks running from his inner elbow down towards his wrist. Bruised veins spiderwebbing out, the red dots of pinpricks decorating them here and there and the odd cut where he'd been too shaky to get the needle in cleanly. He was getting to that stage now, and he used his teeth to pull the safety cap off the needle, letting the dim light from the heavily shaded bedside lamp catch the razor sharp point. What would Ryou do if it killed him? Would Ryou be the one to find him? Right now he didn't care, he needed it. Finding a vein that wasn't too badly bruised, he slid the needle smoothly into his arm, feeling the familiar pinch and burn. Laying down on his back and letting the empty syringe roll out of his hand onto the floor, he reached over wearily and pulled the bandanna off his arm, not really caring where it ended up. Then the wait, only thirty seconds at most in reality but it felt like forever. Staring at the cracks in the ceiling, the same thing he did every night. Then, finally, it kicked in. He arched up from the bed with a long, low moan, throwing his head back. His breathing shallowed and his pupils shrank to pinpoints, a tremor of pleasure making his entire body break out in a sheen of sweat and lights dance in front of his eyes. After a few moments he collapsed back, listening to his erratic heartbeat and feeling like everything was fine, for once. He wasn't worried about Ryou, he didn't feel like he could never be normal, he didn't care about anything. Everything would be alright.

Closing his crimson eyes, Bakura let the golden warmth wrap around him and moaned again quietly, wishing he could feel this way all the time. Just like every other night, he writhed in the throes of drug-induced ecstasy for another hour or so before passing out in his jeans on the bed, still breathing in shallow gasps. One day it was going to be too much for him, but for now he knew he couldn't live without it.

TBC