.:Author's Note:. Sorry for the delay. I had a lot of tests these past few weeks. After my AP exams in a few weeks, I should have a lot more time to type.

I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. Personally I feel like I should have combined this chapter and the last, and I think I might later on, but the next chapter is going to be longer, I promise.

Enjoy! And please review!

-DxH

Discalimer: I do not own the rights to Yugioh. If I did, Marik and Bakura would be butt-buddies.

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Marik gripped the end of the arrow tightly but gently as so not to discomfort the pained thief. He looked down at the sore, reddened would with a grimace, nausea clawing reproachfully at his stomach. He ignored the sickness and slid the knife along the arrow. As it descended and began to pierce Akefia's flesh, the thief let out a pained hiss, throwing back his head and gritting his teeth. Marik cringed but kept his hand steady, widening the hole as to dislodge the arrow. After breaking a fair amount of skin around it, Marik mopped up some of the drizzling blood, fighting back the urge to vomit at its sight and picked up the small instrument beside him. He slid the instrument into the wound along the arrow and pried at the muscle and what he assumed to be bone, gently tugging at the end of the arrow all the while. Akefia grunted and his chest rose and fell quickly and irregularly with his gasps.

Marik dug deeper with the instrument and suddenly his hand slipped and the instrument jerked up in his grasp. Akefia muffled a yelp, digging his nails into the ground. Marik grappled with the instrument in his sweaty palms, and abruptly felt the arrow loosening. He gently pulled it, using the curved instrument to guide it out, and finally pulled the blood-stained arrow from Akefia's body.

Marik immediately collapsed on his rear and released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Akefia let out a shuddering gasp before resting against the wall and loosening his tensed muscles, but not before applying the cotton cloth to his wound and pressing it down as firmly as he could manage.

"Is… is it all out?" The thief gasped between breaths. Marik nodded wordlessly, his mind still reeling and his throat too dry to properly answer. He dropped the arrow beside the fire, not daring to look at the blood-covered instrument. Akefia let his head slump against the wall and sighed deeply before looking back down at Marik.

"We're not done yet." He said gruffly. Marik released a groan and sat up. Akefia shifted his hand to better cover the wound and gestured with his other hand towards the knife in the fire.

"I don't have the energy or materials to sew the wound, so we're going to have to make do with more primitive sealing." Marik's heart sank as his eyes locked onto the blade shoved deep into the gleaming coals of the fire up to the hilt. Akefia's mouth twitched into a small smirk as he observed Marik's reaction.

"Don't pussy out on me now, kid." He said. Marik swallowed and reached for the knife. As his fingers touched the hilt, he released a yelp and snapped his hand away. He shoved his burned fingers into his mouth and suckled on them voraciously, glaring reproachfully at the knife. Akefia chuckled humorously.

"Use a cloth, idiot." He lightly berated the Egyptian. Marik looked at him dubiously before snatching the cloth he had previously wet and used it to grasp the handle of the knife. He gently pulled it from the bed of coals, careful not to let any fall near him. Marik lifted the blade near his face, marveling at the hot, red-orange core surrounded by white. A sudden image rose to his mind, dark and sinister, of a veiled man approaching him from behind, a shimmering, red-hot blade in one hand. He shuddered and looked away.

"Quickly." Akefia insisted. He dabbed a few more times at his wound and discarded the bloodied cloth, revealing the red-rimmed wound. Marik noticed that it seemed smaller then when the arrow had been lodged in it, likely because the arrow made the wound look bigger. Marik placed a hand on either side and stretched his skin slightly so the wound closed.

"You have to do this in one go. Place the blade flat on the wound and press it down hard until I tell you." Marik nodded and shuffled awkwardly towards Akefia on his knees. He crouched at Akefia's right, lifted the knife, and, in one motion, pressed it down on the wound. The wound sizzled and hissed, and Akefia's body tensed up immediately. His nails dug into his own chest, his muscles tightened, his eyes squeezed shut, and a muffled yell came out as a cross between a yelp and a hiss. Marik wrinkled his nose and resisted the urge to cough and puke as the scent of burning flesh, accompanied by a small wisp of black smoke, wafted up his nose. The bright orange of the blade started to fade into a steely gray as the heat from the blade was transferred to Akefia's flesh. After a few minutes, Akefia gestured weakly and Marik gently pulled the blade away. The wound had closed, but not aesthetically in any way. A large, welting scar the color of rotten meat and bricks lined the side of his stomach. Marik swallowed back some bitter bile which had risen to the back of his throat. Akefia resumed panting and breathing, his eyes half open and flitting in and out of focus.

The two runaways sat beside each other, recovering from the psychological and physical trauma of the wound. Nothing stirred the room except for the sound of Akefia's wheezing breath and the crackling of the fire.

Akefia finally opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and looked down at his scarred wound. He sniffed and observed it with clear distaste but seemed satisfied by the job. Akefia slumped back against the wall, evening out his breathing. Marik dug around and found the leather gourd, passing it to the thief who accepted it graciously and drank down several gulps. Marik finished the last few mouthfuls and placed the gourd back near the pile of other goods.

Akefia grabbed the fresh bandages and began trying to wrap them around his still sensitive wound, but Marik grabbed them from his trembling hands before the thief could berate him. Marik wordlessly wrapped Akefia's wound firmly, his hands as steady as he could manage.

Akefia suddenly started laughing.

Marik looked up at him, startled. Akefia threw back his head, leaning it against the cool

wall, his eyes closed and his lips parted in a strangely eerie laugh. Marik shivered and tied the bandages tightly as Akefia suddenly began to fall into a fit of coughing. He cursed and spat ungraciously, and resumed a small chuckle behind closed lips. Akefia cracked open and eye and regarded Marik with some amusement.

"You're really something, kid." He said, shaking his head. "I assault your family, kidnap you, and shove you in a completely dangerous situation, and then while I'm lying here dying, instead of using the opportunity to run away, here you are, merry as a sheep, wrapping up my wounds." Akefia burst into another fit of laugher which echoed through the cavern. Marik shrunk away slightly, intimidated and confused by the thief's reaction.

"Well you said that if I tried to run away, you would kill me." Marik said quietly after Akefia had calmed down a bit. The thief's mouth curved into a leering grin.

"My aim's not so good that I could stop a little thing like you in my current state if you decided to zip out of here, you know." Marik frowned.

"Were you supposed to tell me that?" Akefia's grin grew wider.

"I suppose not."

Marik sighed. "It's not like I could go back if I wanted to." He said, averting his eyes. " I doubt they would want a murderer as a tomb-keeper." Akefia raised an eyebrow.

"Well if they were sending soldiers to retrieve you, I doubt they've decided to abandon you." Marik shrugged. He didn't want to think of such things right now. The very memory of his father's lifeless, crumpled corpse beneath him send shudders down his spine and nausea through his stomach. He turned away and began stuffing the instruments and rags which had spilled out back into the leather bag. He placed the hot blade, now reduced to its original silver sheen, into the pan of cooled water. It sizzled slightly, releasing a small stream of white steam from the water. Marik was about to pull it out when he suddenly felt something cold touch his back. He squeaked, releasing the knife, which dropped with a clatter, and instinctively arched his back against the touch.

"These are no ordinary scars, are they?" Akefia murmured, running his finger along the various symbols etched on Marik's back. Marik trembled against the thief's cold touch.

"N… no." He stuttered. He heard Akefia chuckle lightly, and the cold touch retreated. Marik released his breath and quickly shoved the knife in the bag, tied it with the piece of rope and scrambled to the side.

"Hey, there's no need to be so afraid. I have no plans on eating you as long as you cooperate." Akefia said lowly. Marik glanced at the thief, who eyed him under half-closed lids. He scuttled to sit next to him, wrapping his arms around his knees.

"I'm not afraid." He mumbled indignantly. Akefia snorted but said nothing. Suddenly, Marik's stomach growled loudly. Marik immediately clamped a hand on his stomach, looking down embarrassingly. Akefia grinned. He pushed himself upright with a grunt and shoveled under some furs, pulling out another leather bag, less ornate this time, and pulled the rope off.

"Here, show me your hands." He said as he dug through the bag. Marik stretched out his hands, cupping them together and Akefia dumped a mixed handful of dried fruits, nuts, dates, and vegetables. He then pulled out another bag and handed Marik a thin slab of dark red dried camel meat. Marik's stomach growled and he immediately began stuffing the dried rations into his mouth. Akefia regarded the child, amused, before tearing at a strip of the meat himself.

"I would usually cook but considering my current state, and since you don't seem the type to know how to cook, what with your sheltered upbringing…" He said around his meat. Marik glanced up at him but didn't stop chewing. Akefia shook his head, smiling behind another handful of the dried mix.

After the two had filled up, Akefia awkwardly attempted to arrange the furs on the ground into a suitable sleeping bed. After watching Akefia wrestle one-handed against the furs, he decided to help and managed to drag a thick, double-sided fur on a pile of a few large, soft wool skins. Marik wondered to himself if Akefia had stolen the furs or skinned them himself, but was quickly distracted when the thief dumped the pan of water on the fire. A loud hiss echoed through the cave which was suddenly drowned in darkness. After a few minutes, Marik's eyes adjusted to the dark and from the dim light from the hole in the cave's wall, he managed to see in blocks and shadows what lay around him. Marik looked around and suddenly shivered as a cool breeze wrapped around his bare skin.

"What are you doing just sitting there. Get under the quilt before you catch a cold. The last thing I need is having to take care of your sick ass in my condition." He heard Akefia growl from his left. Marik flipped around and groped his way towards the makeshift bed, pulling up the fur blanket and crawling beneath it. Marik was pleased by the sudden, heavy warmth and snuggled deeper until he felt his leg hit something. Akefia hissed angrily, causing Marik to wince and his foot to retreat.

"Watch it." Akefia growled. Marik nodded, forgetting the thief couldn't see him, and flipped over so that his back faced Akefia. In the quiet darkness, the sounds around him were suddenly amplified; the cicadas chirping outside, the river bubbling downstream, the wind whispering through the leaves of the trees, Akefia's ragged breath. Marik closed his eyes and wandered into the much needed embrace of sleep.

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