AN: I'm so sorry for the long wait on this chapter! As I mentioned previously, I wrote this fic all out of order, so I've had chapters 14, 15, 16 and 17 pretty much done for quite a long while...but I was having trouble with chapter 13.

So! Individually Packaged offered to help me write this chapter! So this chapter was co-written by me and Individually Packaged and beta'd by the awesome Lady Blackwell!

Next chapter, we'll go back to your regularly scheduled program of chapters written solely by me and beta'd by Individually Packaged.

Anyways, the start of this chapter deals with the aftermath of Bakura stabbing himself, and it's based on the manga canon, not the anime. Some of these events only happened in the manga and weren't in the anime at all; other events were totally changed in the anime. For instance, the fist fight is totally different in the manga as opposed to the anime- in the manga, kids that Bakura stole from previously just happen to show up and randomly try to attack him and it's not expected by anyone at all.

After Bakura gets to the hospital, the fic goes back to following the anime canon, and the conversation between Marik and Bakura in the hospital is based on the dialogue from the sub.

Are we running towards death?
I have met him times before
He adores us like the rest

We can burn it and leave
For we are the beautiful thieves
No one suspects at all

-Beautiful Thieves by AFI

Marik then realized that the boy- the spirit inside the boy, he believed that much about Bakura's story- really was crazy, to be capable of stabbing himself so enthusiastically and then to laugh about it. And as if that weren't enough, the spirit stayed conscious long enough to pull the knife out of his arm and lick the blood off of it, as if he enjoyed its taste- why did that somehow seem so familiar to Marik?- before he tossed the knife away and finally passed out on the hard pavement.

This turned out to be an inconvenience. If Marik's plan to infiltrate Yugi's group was going to work, he needed Bakura to be conscious so that they could actually walk to the group together. But as he looked down at the boy who was collapsed and bleeding on the ground, Marik realized he wasn't sure how long it would take for Bakura to fully wake up and be capable of walking.

Marik felt inexplicably bad just leaving Bakura on the ground. So, heaving a sigh, he grabbed Bakura by the collar of his striped shirt and hauled him over the seat of his motorcycle. As he took a moment to gather his thoughts, he observed Bakura more closely.

The sleeve of Bakura's blue button-down shirt was tattered and soaked with blood, causing Marik to grimace. He couldn't let Bakura walk around with that wound completely uncovered, he thought reasonably. And if they were partners now, they might as well look out for each other. So without thinking too much of it, Marik grasped Bakura's shirt and pulled it off of his shoulders. Then, in order to stem the blood flow, Marik ripped off part of the shirt and proceeded to wrap it around Bakura's left arm.

The spirit was entirely still as Marik tied the blue fabric into a knot. As he worked, his gaze drifted to Bakura's face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows slightly furrowed, as though he were having a bad dream.

Marik found himself staring for a moment. Inhabiting the body of an innocent-looking, white-haired boy was a spirit with a personality that seemed to match Marik's own. Marik recognized that Bakura would be a useful ally, someone with drive and determination much like his own. He had powerful knowledge and experience from the past, and he was strong and confident. And the fact that he'd been able to injure himself so quickly and willingly was, in the strangest way, admirable.

He had recognized these strengths in Bakura, and the similarities between Bakura and himself- so that must have been why he had been so eager to work with Bakura, though he'd never allowed anyone, even his own brother, to work with him as an equal before now.

Before he knew it, Marik's hand had drifted to Bakura's hair, and he found his fingers clenched in the white strands, almost possessively.

He shook himself and removed his hand, wondering briefly why he'd done that.

Suddenly, Bakura made a soft noise, as though he were waking. Or perhaps it was Ryou who was waking, because the boy looked bleary and disconcerted.

"Finally," Marik said to himself, and grasped the boy by his shoulders, pulling him up into a standing position.

Ryou's eyes closed again, and Marik realized that he was hardly awake, just drifting between consciousness and sleep. He decided that would have to be good enough. If they were ever going to get into Yugi's group, they couldn't wait forever for Bakura's landlord to cooperate.

So Marik put his arms around Bakura- or Ryou- or both of them- whatever- in order to help the boy along.

Taking an unsteady step, they proceeded forward.

As Bakura began to awaken, he noticed several things.

First, he realized that someone's arms were around him, and that he was being guided along the sidewalk at a painfully slow pace.

Then, he realized that his arm was stinging, probably still bleeding after his overly enthusiastic injury, but that it was now bandaged.

Lastly, he realized he was missing his shirt. One of them, at least.

He was still just barely conscious, drifting between wakefulness and sleep in much the same way as Ryou, so it took a moment for him to process what was happening. His breathing sped up momentarily as he realized exactly what was going on. It was Marik who had his arms around him. And Marik must have taken off his shirt and wrapped his wound. As Marik continued to hold him up and lead him down the sidewalk, Bakura glanced up and saw that Marik had an expression on his face that looked very much like concern.

Earlier, Marik had dismissed Bakura when he'd told him that they'd known each other in the past, but Marik's actions now seemed almost caring, so maybe-

Bakura violently shoved the thought from his mind. Marik hadn't believed him, and Bakura had already decided that he only cared about this kid as far as how useful he'd be to him in his goal of killing the Pharaoh and collecting the Millennium items.

Abruptly, Bakura's thoughts were interrupted as he felt something foreign press into his and Ryou's consciousness. It was as though something was pushing past their barriers and knocking down their defenses to settle into their minds and grasp tightly at their thoughts.

It was a force of some sort, clutching at their minds, compelling them not to wander too close to consciousness. As if it wanted them to remain in this lulling state of half-sleep.

This was Marik's doing, Bakura realized suddenly. Marik must have been using the power of the Millennium Rod on them, and Bakura didn't have to think too long before he understood Marik's intent.

Marik was afraid that Ryou would ruin their plan. He didn't want Ryou to say anything that would blow their cover, so he was exerting a light control over Ryou's mind, keeping him quiet and compliant.

As they rounded a corner, Bakura made out the shapes of two people standing in the distance. They continued walking, drawing closer, and eventually the two people turned around and noticed them. Then the two were running towards them, yelling.

It was a boy and a girl, and Bakura recalled that their names were Joey and Anzu. As the two realized that Ryou was hurt, they knelt down beside him with worried looks on their faces.

Joey said something to Marik, inquiring about Ryou's state, and Marik explained that he'd found Ryou like this, hurt and bleeding in the alleyway.

Before Marik could properly introduce himself, two kids approached the group. They were gazing intently at Bakura, angry and clenching their fists. When Bakura took a closer look, he recognized them.

"Hey," one of them said, drawing toward Bakura. "You're the kid who stole from us!"

Bakura had indeed stolen from them, though he'd never expected that they would find him, or even remember him. He watched as they descended on him, menacing and ready to attack him for his transgressions.

"Leave him alone," Marik said suddenly, drawing to his full height and glaring at them. "He's hurt."

The kids either didn't hear him or were simply unconcerned, and they were about to hit Bakura when Marik did an incredible thing. Surprising them all, he jumped in front of Bakura, throwing himself before the attack and taking a punch to his chest.

Before anyone could react, the other kid punched Marik right across his face, knocking him to the side. Bakura watched, dumbfounded, wondering why Marik was taking the hits for him. He started to think again that maybe Marik had, after all- but-

But- what had he just been thinking? His thoughts suddenly seemed muddled, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. As his vision started fading, he realized that the blood loss must be affecting him, and then he was unable to think anything else.

A moment later, he fell unconscious again.

Marik watched as the taxi pulled up to the curb and Joey and Anzu helped Bakura get inside the cab.

He smiled, thinking that all in all, his plan had been successful. Yugi's friends would never suspect what he was really doing. In their eyes, he was a considerate young man who'd found their friend Ryou and kept him safe until he'd located Joey and Anzu.

The idiots had smiled at him and shaken his hand as he'd introduced himself as Namu. He was sure that after all this, Joey and Anzu wouldn't regard him as anything less than a friend. He concluded that his plan was working out perfectly.

As Bakura settled into the cab, Marik saw Yugi's grandfather say something to the cab driver, most likely to direct them to the hospital. Marik glanced at Bakura's face, and something nagged at him. As though there was something familiar about the spirit.

Marik shook off the thought, scoffing. It was probably just Bakura's words affecting him— all that nonsense about knowing each other in the past. Marik still had a lot of work to do, and he wouldn't let something so trivial bother him.

As Marik turned from the departing cab, he forgot entirely about the nagging feeling, and turned back to his plan.

The next time Bakura awoke, he realized he was in the hospital. He was faintly aware that Yugi's grandfather was nearby, but Ryou was still unconscious and fitful in his sleep. Bakura was in his soul room, laying on the bed inside, feeling comfortable on the comforter and pillows that he'd simply wished into existence.

The comfort didn't last long, because he suddenly felt a presence searching through his mind, hunting persistently for something. Bakura recognized the presence as Marik. He stood from his bed and reached upwards to go through Ryou's consciousness. He felt that Marik was somewhere at the top, and as he ascended, he passed Ryou's dreams, restless with strange objects and shapes.

When he reached the top level of Ryou's consciousness, he found Marik standing there, waiting for him. They stood on a plateau, the floor of which was entirely covered in blue fog.

"I found you," Marik said simply.

"How did you get into my mind?" Bakura asked.

But then he remembered. Marik had used the Rod on Ryou earlier. Bakura was knowledgeable about the powers of the Rod, so he knew what that meant. Because Marik's consciousness had been in his mind once, Marik could now enter his mind any time he wanted.

"Oh," said Bakura. "It was that time, wasn't it?"

For some reason, Bakura felt no need to elaborate. Somehow, he sensed that Marik would know exactly what he was referring to. But he didn't give much thought as to why that would be.

"That's right," said Marik. "Since I used the Rod, our minds are linked. So I can come into your mind."

Marik's mention of the Rod caused Bakura to forcibly reminded himself that the Rod was the really important thing here. It was time for Marik to give him the Millennium item that was rightfully his.

"Speaking of that," said Bakura, "you should give me your Millennium Rod now. I held up my end of the deal- I helped you in your plan to kill Yugi. Don't think I'm going to go easy on you at all. Hand it over."

"Oh, that," said Marik casually. "The plan has changed a little. I can't give you the Rod yet."

"What?" Bakura asked, irritated. Why did Marik have to be so...so...insolent and disagreeable in this life? Before, he never would have- but that didn't bear thinking about. The Rod was what mattered.

"Yugi and I both got into the finals," Marik said. "If you want the Rod, get yourself into the finals, too. I'll give it to you after the tournament is over."

Marik's words irritated Bakura even further. If Yugi was in the finals, that meant he was still alive. Marik hadn't managed to kill him. So Marik hadn't held up his part of the deal. Yet Marik didn't seem contrite at all. Instead, he was making demands of Bakura. Who did Marik think he was, bossing him around like this? Apparently, Marik thought he could suddenly change their deal, and that Bakura would just go along with it. Marik wasn't even asking to change their deal- he was simply telling Bakura how it would be, as if he had no doubt that Bakura would just put up with it and continue doing whatever Marik wanted him to do, even though he'd gotten nothing in return yet.

Bakura barked out a short laugh. "So, you lost to Yugi. How can you be so arrogant after you've failed? I can't even stand to listen to you."

"You can say whatever you want," said Marik, seeming completely unruffled. "The finals are about to begin. Before they do, get yourself six Puzzle cards so that you qualify."

Marik then lifted himself up and left Bakura's mind. He hadn't even bothered to wait for an answer. He'd just assumed that Bakura would do as he told him.

That made Bakura even madder. And what made him angriest of all was the fact that Marik was right. Bakura would do exactly as he was told. He had no choice, if he wanted to stay partners with Marik. Bakura then had to remind himself again that staying partners with Marik was not the ultimate goal- getting the Rod was. Collecting the Millennium items was the only thing that really mattered. Of course, if it were anyone else, anyone but Marik, he would just attack him, kill him if necessary, and steal the item. Certainly he would do that to anyone else who dared to back out of a deal that they'd made with him and then try to boss him around- not that he would ever deign to make deals with anyone else- damn it, what was Marik doing to him? Bakura seethed, clenching his fists in frustration.

But there was no way around it. He'd have to get the stupid Puzzle cards and enter the tournament.

"Damn that brat," he growled. But Marik was gone and he was only talking to himself.

Bakura couldn't waste time; he knew that the finals were about to begin. Six Puzzle cards were, after all, not something he would find lying on the street, so he'd either have to steal them or duel someone for them. And so, angry and fuming, he took complete control over Ryou's body and awoke.

Yugi's grandfather was at his bedside, probably concerned that Ryou had been fidgety and restless in his sleep, but Bakura paid the old man no heed. He stood up from the bed and ripped the IV out of his arm, not minding the pain in the slightest. The old man was saying something, looking urgent and fearful, which only irritated Bakura further.

He smiled dangerously and approached the man while clenching the Ring in his hand, meaning to make this quick. The old man's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then Bakura used the Ring to knock him unconscious.

That done, he immediately left the hospital in search of the Puzzle cards.

He found some kid loitering in the dark streets and it took all of two minutes to make off with his Puzzle card. The idiot hadn't even had a chance, Bakura thought haughtily, as he threw the baffled kid to the ground, pocketed the card, and continued on his way. The progress was minor, though, because he still had five more cards to go and he didn't have much time.

The streets were quiet and black, and Bakura strode down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and his mind whirring with thoughts. The occasional car passed by him, and its headlights always beamed at him brightly.

He had walked a little ways before one particular car- or a vehicle of some sort, because it only had one headlight- flashed at him and then slowed down.

Bakura frowned as the vehicle- a motorcycle, now that he saw it more clearly- stopped several yards ahead of him. A figure turned the engine off and unstrapped a helmet.

"Marik," Bakura greeted flatly, betraying no surprise at seeing him.

"I see you're looking for Puzzle cards," Marik said as he approached. "You'll have to get more creative with where you look, because you won't find many duelists out here this late."

Bakura said nothing, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. "Is that all you have to say?"

"No," Marik said, taking no hint of the sarcasm. "It's good that we ran into each other, because I have to fill you in on our plan."

Something irritated Bakura about the way Marik said "our plan" when he really just meant his own. It wasn't as if Bakura had a say in any of it.

"After we get into the finals, I want you to act like Ryou," Marik said, launching into the details without waiting for a response. "Make them think that you're still their friend, and don't reveal yourself."

Bakura figured that shouldn't be too hard. "And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to pretend to be someone called Namu, the name I gave to Yugi's friends when I first met them," Marik replied. "The fools didn't suspect a thing then, and they won't suspect anything now."

"Why did you have to give them a fake name?" asked Bakura.

"Yugi knows that someone named Marik holds the Millennium Rod, and has used it to control the Rare Hunters- a group that does my bidding."

"And who will be you, then? You can't expect to duel under an alias the whole time if Yugi's looking for someone named Marik."

Marik smiled. "I've got that covered, too. My brother, Rishid, is one of my Rare Hunters, and he'll be acting as me and holding a fake Millennium Rod. You and I need to make Yugi believe that Rishid is the one holding the real Millennium Rod and that he's the one controlling all the Rare Hunters."

Bakura said nothing for a moment, taking in the details of Marik's plan. "And where should I be, when the finals start?"

"You'll need to find the stadium, where they'll have the blimp for us to board," Marik replied before turning. "Anyways, I think that's all the things you need to know for now. I still have some things to take care of, and you're plenty busy yourself with the Puzzle cards, so I'll see you at the finals."

Bakura watched quietly as Marik made his way back to his motorcycle. The conversation had felt empty, somehow. It wasn't the topic so much as the way Marik had treated him. As if this whole thing were merely a business arrangement. Granted, Marik did seem to treat him as an equal partner far moreso than he did anyone else. This was even despite the fact that Bakura challenged him and argued with him- and Marik, at least as the person he was in this life, didn't seem like the type who would normally put up with that from anyone. But still, Marik talked as if their partnership was merely a means to an end, a tool, a device that could just as well be discarded if it no longer proved useful. That wasn't the way Mahes would ever-

But this wasn't Mahes, Bakura reminded himself as he tried to hold back his thoughts. And suddenly, the memory of his past life was overwhelming and pressing in all around him. And he wanted, so badly, to reign the words in, before he found himself saying-

"Marik, wait."

Marik had been just about to mount his motorcycle when his head snapped up at Bakura's words. He straightened up, looking back.

Bakura found his throat going dry, and his mouth formed words without him even realizing what he was saying. "I wasn't lying. When I said we knew each other in the past."

Gods, why was he doing this to himself? The yearning in his own voice was just killing him. It was pathetic. Downright degrading, really. But maybe Marik would believe him now. Earlier that day, there were so many things Marik had done: bandaging his arm, and carrying him to Yugi's friends, and even taking the punches from those kids from whom Bakura had stolen. So maybe somewhere inside, Marik knew-

Marik's eyes narrowed. "You've already gotten my trust, Bakura. I don't know why you're still trying to tell me these ridiculous things."

So that's how it was. Still.

Any sorrow Bakura might have felt at Marik's words was drowned out by anger, crashing down on him, consuming him and driving him to the breaking point. What would it take? What the hell would it take?

"Because it's true," Bakura growled. "Every word of it."

Marik simply looked bored. "I really can't be bothered with this nonsense right now. We're wasting time as it is and you've still got those Puzzle cards to steal-"

But Bakura had had enough of it. He was swathed in the wrath that comes with being ignored, treated as if what he had to say didn't even matter. He was tired of being patient and explaining himself in a rational way, so in his anger, he said the first thing that came to mind:

"We've fucked."

Marik stopped mid-sentence. He paused to give Bakura a strange look. "Excuse me?"

"You and I have fucked," Bakura said again, this time forcefully. "In the past, when we lived in Ancient Egypt, we had sex countless times."

Marik stared at Bakura with a mixture of shock and disgust. Bakura could instantly tell that this revelation had been a mistake. But Marik's reaction only incensed him further, and he went on more forcefully, a malicious smirk appearing on his face.

"In fact, the last time I saw you, I put you on your back and fucked you on the ground."

"I don't know what you're on about, but shut the hell up." Marik's eyes were cold, a shade of frosty lilac. It was clear that whatever line Bakura had been treading, he'd finally crossed it. "Your little stories were amusing in the beginning, but now they're frankly getting on my nerves. If you're planning to work with me, you'll have to stop this idiocy. You still have Puzzle cards to get and only a few hours to find them. So, get to work."

Giving Bakura one last icy stare, Marik mounted his motorcycle and started the engine. "I'll see you at the Battle City finals."

He rode off without a backwards glance.

Bakura was left standing in the dark streets, trying and failing to cope with what he'd just said to Marik. Though he'd spoken to Marik in anger, the desperation underlying his own words was undeniable, and it was sickening to him. It was disgusting, really, the way he kept trying with Marik, without a single nerve in his body moving to stop him.

Despite Marik's actions earlier that day, he was clearly only Marik, and not Mahes. Bakura had followed his soul for millennia, a staggering number of years, and all he got for his search was... boredom and disbelief. Was it even worth trying anymore? Was it worth trying to regain a partner who didn't want to be regained?

The pitiful feeling that settled in Bakura's stomach wasn't much of an answer. Because at that point, he honestly didn't know.