So I finally have an update! I hope you enjoy it and sorry it took so long – Jem

The shadows were thick and substantial, congealing around Bakura's thin form and clinging to his clothes. Their texture was viscous, almost overpowering. Bakura's narrowed eyes were barely strong enough to pierce their vast depths, but he saw enough to know that he was greatly outnumbered, as he always had been. Even his vast shadow magic shrank into insignificance when compared to the demon who shared his soul.

A dark laugh seemed to echo through the chamber, deadening as soon as it met Bakura's ears. The shadows reared up around Bakura, leering at him, snaking around his arms and legs and wending their way along his torso, surrounding him in the darkness that ate away at his soul. A black voice twisted its way into his skull, wicked words wending their way through his mind. "Well, if it isn't my weak, pathetic little host. This is a surprise."

Blackness pressed against Bakura's eyelids, forcing them almost shut as he scoured the space around him. He felt claustrophobic, despite the endless reaches of the Ring; his voice was muffled, deceptively quiet in the heavy air. "Spare me the games, Zorc."

"Games are what I do best." The shadows swirled, cruel laughter echoing.

Bakura frowned. "You're here to help me. I want help."

"I am here to rule you." The darkness flared, blackening further before coalescing in front of Bakura's eyes, pressing uncomfortably close. It swirled and reddened, forming two bright red eyes that blinked at Bakura before narrowing threateningly. Opaque silence rose between them.

Bakura growled. "As I remember it, you made a deal to help me." The darkness was disorientating, covering his vision, but he knew he needed this. Marik was counting on him. "I gave you a life in this time. In return, you do as I say."

The shadows rumbled.

"I need you to create a physical form for a dark spirit," Bakura snapped. His shoulders tensed, fists clenching, tendons standing out along his arms as he glared at the red eyes in front of him.

The shadows paused in their swirling momentarily. The red eyes blinked, narrowing slightly as they bored straight into Bakura, an amused glint lighting their depths. "After your own body, are you? Pathetic. It wouldn't do you any good; you will still be mine, in the end."

Bakura's eyes narrowed. His head dropped a bit. "The body isn't for me."

A dark chuckle ran through the air. "Oh, really? Then just who would you wish a body upon?" Darkness swirled through the heavy, cold atmosphere, those red eyes gleaming as they pierced straight through Bakura's mind, plucking out all his secrets, his deepest, darkest desires. Bakura could feel unwelcome shadows in his memories, sifting through them carelessly, as if they were nothing. Kul Elna mixed with desert mixed with a small shared apartment in Domino City. Blood shone unpleasantly on the walls, a flash of gold held by the wrong hand, violet eyes darkened and cruel laughter escaping brown lips.

Bakura spat. His nails dug sharply into his palms; they would have drawn blood, had he possessed a body.

The red eyes flickered, darkening for an instant before focusing back in on Bakura. They glinted with cruel intent. "You must be weak indeed, to come to me for help with that arrogant little mouse you live with."

"Marik is not a mouse!" Bakura instantly flared.

Dark laughter rumbled the air, the insubstantial ground shaking beneath them. Deep blue flickered through the shadows, searing straight past Bakura and making him flinch despite himself. Bakura cursed.

"Now, now," the demon laughed, voice dark with amusement. "If you seek my help, you'll play my games."

Bakura clenched his teeth. "I'm not seeking; I'm ordering. I need a body for Marik's dark form. Make it happen."

"You dare challenge me?" The demon was suddenly flat, all amusement gone. The shadows grew and rumbled threateningly, swirling around Bakura, surrounding him with an opaque, unbreakable curtain. "What's to say I will ever let you out?"

Despite himself, cold fear gripped Bakura's heart at the threat in those words.

"I should have devoured you eons ago," the demon continued, words purring straight into Bakura's ear. The shadows caressed him, wrapping around his arms and legs, anchoring him in place.

Bakura remained calm. His brown eyes were like shards of ice in his face, jagged and unforgiving, ignoring the darkness pressing against him. His tone was even and undisturbed. "You need me."

Silkiness ran up Bakura's limbs. He glanced down, watching as darkness enveloped his false pale skin, caressing him almost lovingly. The demon's dark voice purred again, slowly, straight into Bakura's mind. "For now, soul-sharer."

Bakura closed his eyes. "So we have a deal."

"What will you give me in return?" Red eyes danced, shoots of amber and black running like veins through them as they stared cruelly at Bakura.

Bakura clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "You already have my body, soul, and life. You will get nothing more from me."

Darkness pressed against Bakura's every limb, surrounding him, completing him. It merged with his own mind, sitting heavily in his memoires, shrouding them and replacing them with dark, twisted thoughts. Humming filled his head, a loud buzzing that rang straight through his ears.

Zorc laughed. "Then I suppose we have a deal."

Bakura almost visibly sagged with relief; only his iron control kept his spine ramrod straight, his lips twisting into a sneer. "A pleasure doing business with you." Turning on his heel, Bakura strode out of the shadows, his black coat clinging to his clothes in a way reminiscent of the shadows that still swirled around his limbs. The white of his hair was a startling contrast.

Chilling laughter echoed through the Ring, loudest inside Bakura's very mind. "Have your fun with the little mouse, but remember that you belong to me. When the time is right, you will be my path into this world, and when I am Lord of the Universe do not expect me to be merciful. None shall survive. You will watch as your world burns."

Bakura stopped. Brown eyes hardened, darkness swirling in their depths as forbidden memories were thrust to the forefront of his mind. Flames flickered, the screams of childhood friends. Darkness and pain and torment and loss and then the glint of gold in the sunrise and he was alone, so alone, always and forever alone...

"Bakura?"

A golden head. Brown skin. Violet eyes turned upwards in hope, arms folded across knees as Marik curled up in the shadows, his expression angry and hard despite the fear hidden in his posture. "Is that you?"

Forcefully pushing away the darkness in his skull and ignoring the cruel laughter, Bakura strode out of the remainder of the shadows and crouched in front of Marik. Carefully, he brushed blond hair away from a soft forehead, stroking the brown skin that he had come to know better than his own.

"It's me."

...

Ryou sagged against the wall with a low hiss, the wounds on his back still bleeding profusely. Black spots were beginning to dance in his vision and his limbs felt weak and weary, like he had attempted lifting a tree from its roots deep in the earth. How long had it been now since he was injured? It had to be morning by now. Ryou's eyes fluttered closed with exhaustion.

"Wake the fuck up!" Hands gripped urgently onto Ryou's shoulders, shaking him with a hidden desperation. Cold metal grazed his hand, sharp blade just teasing the thinly veiled veins.

Ryou opened his eyes again, lips parting slightly as he met pained violet eyes. Drawing in a raspy breath, Ryou sat forwards a little, groaning as his back stretched. "Alright, you're going to have to help me."

A snarl tore through brown lips. "Fuck that. You're helping me, not the other way around."

"I'm not going to do you much good when I can't stand." Ryou's eyes slid shut again as the world span drunkenly around him, the cloying smell of blood filling his nostrils and making his stomach churn. He held back a shudder, coughing weakly and wincing at the pain that lanced across his back.

Hands left his shoulders as the dark one stood up, towering over Ryou's crumpled, prone form. Blond hair spiked up jaggedly, making him seem even taller as he glared down at the pale boy sitting at his feet. Ryou sighed. He glanced up at Marik's body, sensing the dark violet eyes boring into him, but the way his vision seemed to be blurring at the edges convinced him that moving really was not an option for him. Ryou drew in a raspy breath. "Help me up to the bed. I need to stop the bleeding."

"I'm not helping you." The dark voice that escaped Marik's lips remained stubborn and cruel. Ryou felt a toe prod his side, rolling him easily onto his back. The world spun around him and he shivered, holding back a scream as his wounds met the carpet, blood pooling beneath his limp body. Violet eyes bored into him.

Ryou looked back and swallowed. "Marik, or whatever your name is, listen to me. I can't help you keep your own body if I'm about to bleed to death."

"I know," growled the dark one. "You can help me, then die. And my name is not Marik."

Ryou's eyes slid closed again as another wave of pain rocketed up his back. His frail body convulsed, writhing against the ground as blood pooled in his hair, sticking the white strands together. Ryou felt repulsed. Dark laughter rang from the towering form over him as he gasped, voice raspy as he managed to pant out vague words. "If you ... let me get too near to death ... you realise that Bakura is ... going to come back, right?"

The laughter ceased immediately. Instead, an angry growl rumbled through the air and a sharp jab hit Ryou in the side, causing another cough to spurt from his chest. Ryou rolled, groaning painfully. Violet eyes met his gaze as Marik's body crouched in front of him, looking beseeching.

Ryou swallowed painfully. "Look, Ma – um – unnamed dark being. At least help me to the bed and get me some bandages, otherwise I'm not going to be conscious enough to help you get rid of Marik."

A begrudging growl sounded through the air before harsh brown hands landed stiffly on Ryou's body, lifting him easily and carelessly off the floor. The breath whooshed out of Ryou's lungs, causing him to cough painfully again, throat searing. The world spun crazily around him as he was carted over to the bed. Ryou held in all noises of complaint, however, even when he was dumped unceremoniously on his back, instantly covering the bedsheets with blood. Ryou allowed himself a silent hiss, rolling onto his side.

"Don't call me Marik." The dark voice was stern, vibrant with emotion that Ryou couldn't place.

Ryou blinked. He twisted, bones aching with weariness as he tried to sit up, succeeding in propping himself up on his elbows. He met the dark one's gaze with a tilt of his head. "What do I call you then?" Ryou's voice cracked a little.

Violet eyes narrowed. "I don't know. Not Marik. I'm not that pathetic little creature."

"Pathetic is not something I would call you," Ryou murmured, a smile twitching his lips despite himself. Wincing, he attempted to move again, lifting his torso up off the bed before the pain became unbearable and he collapsed back down again. He rolled onto his front, burying his head into the pillow. "Well, Not-Marik, can you please get me some bandages, before I bleed to death?"

"Kekeke." A dark chuckle slipped into the air before a swish off a purple cloak blew a puff of air into Ryou's face. Prying his brown eyes open, Ryou watched as the tall, broad form of Marik's twisted body left the room, returning soon enough with bandages extended. Ryou took them, wincing a little as he sat up fully. The pain brought water to his eyes.

Wincing but refusing to show his weakness, Ryou dropped the bandages and instead pulled at the hem of his shirt, beginning to tug it up over his head. He folded the material, carefully placing it on the bed, and scooped up the bandages again, beginning to wrap them around his chest. "Kek is a strange sound for a laugh," he murmured conversationally. "Maybe that's what I should call you."

Dark violet eyes narrowed. "Why do I need a name?"

"You're a person, right?" Ryou winced as a bandage snagged on his wound but he kept going, sucking in a sharp breath. "People need names, especially if you want to be separate from Marik."

"I don't want to be; I am separate," snarled the dark voice. The bed creaked a little as Marik's heavy body sat, cloak flaring and blond hair wild. Ryou almost smiled, because the violet eyes that peeked out at him were full of almost childlike indignation.

Ryou tied off the bandages and sat up a little straighter, pleased that the bleeding had stopped. He could cope with the pain now that he didn't feel as if he would faint if he moved too fast. "I know, Kek."

"So get him out." Eyes narrowed as Marik's body glowered at Ryou, brows heavy over his dark eyes. "You promised."

Ryou looked back, biting his lower lip. He shifted, vision still dotting occasionally before he attempted to speak. "Yes, I will help you."

"So hurry up!" The dark voice was turning almost desperate.

Ryou sighed, settling back in his seat a little more as he tried to close his eyes. "I will. But I have to make sure Bakura isn't going to hear first."

"Fuck that spirit," Kek growled. "You promised."

"I just want to make sure he's still with Marik." Ryou's head drooped slightly.

"He and that pathetic little thing can go to hell!" Kek's voice was a dangerous roar, shattering the glass-like air around them. "They think they can be together, that they can escape my wrath? I'll show them right now! I can drag them apart and never let them be together ever again!"

Ryou watched with widened eyes as Kek threw himself upright, heavy footsteps storming around the room. The Rod waved wildly through the air as Kek gesticulated, his dark glare almost tangibly sizzling the rancid air before him. "They don't deserve happiness, for what they've done to us. I'm going to split them up. Marik can get the fuck out of that Ring right now."

Ryou's eyes widened. His jaw dropped open, a puff of amazed air blowing out between his lips as he watched Marik's body fall utterly still, eyes sliding shut. He was sure he hadn't imagined that.

Kek had said 'us'.

...

Bakura crouched in front of Marik, running his hands gently through his golden, limp hair. Marik was looking frailer with every passing moment, his skin turning an unhealthy ashen grey and his violet eyes dimming a little in the ever encroaching darkness. Something in Bakura's chest twisted to see Marik looking as lifeless as this.

Marik blinked, his expression still hard as he stared into Bakura's eyes. "What did you do?"

"I fixed this mess." Bakura's voice was a dark rasp, uncomfortably close to the pitch of the demon he had just come from. With a shake of his head, Bakura banished the shadows and sat, pulling Marik up into his lap once more.

Marik sent him a slightly incredulous look. "You fixed it? That easily?"

"I wouldn't call it easy," Bakura chuckled quietly, "But yes."

Marik pursed his lips. He twisted slightly in Bakura's grip, placing tanned hands on black-coated shoulders so he could get a better look at Bakura's expression. Marik's tone was suspicious. "I don't believe you."

"You never do." Bakura allowed himself a small eye-roll, smirk lifting one corner of his lips. He hugged Marik close to his chest, resting in his shoulder so that white hair streamed down both their chests. "What's your dark half doing now?"

Marik's eyes closed and he sighed, wrapping arms carefully around Bakura's back. "I don't know and I don't care. He can just fuck off back to hell." Warmth surrounded Bakura as Marik nuzzled closer again, both of them holding tightly onto the other, reminding themselves that they still existed even without their physical forms.

"Just check on him for me," Bakura muttered. "I need to make sure he hasn't killed my host."

"So check for yourself." Marik prodded Bakura's side once before allowing his eyes to distance once more. The shadows roiled around them, pooling hungrily and approaching ever closer, swirling around the two entwined forms cradled together in the darkness. Bakura watched them lazily; they were the closest thing to 'home' he had ever known.

A startled gasp escaped Marik's lips.

Bakura moved in an instant, holding Marik's head away from him so he could examine Marik's expression. Marik's brown skin was grey and flat, his violet eyes still closed as his hands gripped onto Bakura's shoulders. Bakura gave him a small shake. "Marik?"

Another gasp broke through Marik's lips and his eyes suddenly flew wide open. His grip became impossibly tight on Bakura's shoulders, nails digging into the black coat sharp enough to rip holes in the fabric. He drew in a sharp, shuddering breath. "No!"

"What is it?" Bakura gave him another shake but, as he did so, Marik's hands suddenly disappeared from his shoulders. Watching with horror encompassing his expression, Bakura saw Marik glance down at his hands with wide, frightened eyes. Shadows wrapped around brown skin with a harsh, cruel intent, hiding it from view and continuing up Marik's arms. Darkness was suddenly everywhere, pulling at Marik's torso and legs, swirling around his thin, frail form with frightening intensity, lifting him up and away from Bakura before he knew what was happening. The last thing Bakura saw were wide, terrified violet eyes watching him before Marik was engulfed in a whirlwind of moving shadows that whipped the air into a towering frenzy, knocking Bakura over onto his back as wind whipped his hair wildly. A scream of "BAKURA!" echoed through the air, jagged spikes of sound hitting Bakura's ears. He leapt to his feet, staring in shock at the frenzy of moving shadows, searching desperately for any sign of Marik, but the swirling shadows collapsed back down to the ground, leaving the dark realm empty of life and colour. A dark chuckle floated through the air. "Kekekeke!"

Bakura stared in stunned shock. The air was still again, empty and bleak, shrouded in encroaching darkness with absolutely no hint that a bright young Egyptian had been here moments before. Bakura stood with his fists tightly clenched, staring at the spot where Marik had disappeared. He ran forwards, eyes scouring the darkness desperately. "Marik?!"

Nothing met him but emptiness.

Bakura cursed loudly, screaming obscenities into the shadows. He strode through the darkness, fury tightening his muscles and forcing his body to curve in on itself. The Ring was empty, echoing back his own thoughts, and it was clear that Marik had disappeared.

"Ryou!" Bakura bellowed, his usually silky voice rough with worry. "What's going on? Where is Marik?!"

There was nothing from the pathetic host currently in control of the body. Bakura cursed under his breath, closing his eyes as he willed himself back into the body. There was a surprised shriek from Ryou but it took hardly any effort on Bakura's part to knock him aside, locking him securely back in his soul room as Bakura took charge of the body again. Dull pain rocketed along his back, but it was much less than Bakura expected.

Blinking open Ryou's brown eyes, Bakura found himself sitting up on his and Marik's bed, facing the twisted and warped form of Marik's body. Its back was too Bakura so all he could see was crazily spiked blond hair and a wild, untailored cloak. Giving a low growl, Bakura leaned forwards, surprised to feel bandages tight around his chest. "What the fuck have you done with Marik?"

Marik's body stiffened before spinning around, dark violet eyes narrowed. Even at this distance, Bakura could tell that there was something abhorrently wrong with seeing Marik's body without Marik in control. Dark violet eyes matched Bakura's expression, Marik's lips twisting in horror. "You're the wrong one!"

Bakura blinked before actually breaking into cruel laughter. "Don't tell me you were expecting my pathetic host?"

"It's his body!" Marik's body flew across the room, knocking Bakura back onto the bed and crawling on top of him. The air whooshed out of Bakura's lungs in surprised huff. He narrowed his gaze, attempting to push Marik's body off him, but the golden glint of the Rod was soon at his throat. Dark violet eyes stared almost panicked at Bakura. "Get him back out here!"

Bakura arched a brow. "Shut up. I have a proposition for you."

A harsh snarl ripped from Marik's throat as the Rod's blade dug into Bakura's throat again. He growled, lifting pale hands to grab the tanned wrists he knew so well, hating that they belonged to someone other than his Marik. Everything about this situation was wrong.

Marik's body stilled over Bakura's.

Bakura spoke quickly, words spilling into the small gap between their faces. "I can get you your own body. Get out of Marik's and leave him alone, and I will give you your own physical form. You can live in this world, but you had better get the fuck out of our lives and never return."

Dark violet eyes blinked.

Bakura sucked in a quiet breath, trying not to betray the hammering of his heart. He propped himself carefully up on his elbows, manoeuvring out from under the Rod so he could be at eye level with Marik's body. He still detested seeing the dark spirit behind Marik's eyes.

The dark voice sounded close to Bakura's ear. "You can get me a body?"

"All of your own." Bakura attempted not to roll his eyes, instead lowering his lashes.

The silence was tangible as Marik's dark form thought it over, his jaw shifting in confusion. He didn't move off Bakura, keeping the Rod evident between them as he leaned closer, brows furrowing and breath hot over Bakura's face. "Why?"

"Why the hell do you think?" Bakura couldn't hold back a derisive snort. "I need Marik."

"Don't even speak that name around me," the low voice growled. The Rod was suddenly pressed back up against Bakura's throat, digging in under his chin and reopening the scratches already there.

Incredulity crawled over Bakura's features. He tilted his head, swallowing around the metal of the Rod as he moved himself up a little more, trying to get the huge weight on his chest off him a little. "I offered you a body. You should be biting my hand off."

"I can if you want." The tone turned dark as Marik's jaws snapped playfully at Bakura's wrist.

Bakura rolled his eyes. He irritably jerked his wrist away and met Marik's gaze again, expression cold. "The offer stands. Take it or leave it, but don't wait too long or I might change my mind."

Marik's eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "Don't threaten me."

"Take it," Bakura purred, voice low, "Or leave it."

A loud snap rang through the air as Marik's jaws were ground together. The dark one gazed out, low hiss escaping his lips as he leaned closer, growling lowly into Bakura's ear. "You need to get one, too."

"What?" The incredulous word slipped uncontrolled out of Bakura's mouth.

The Rod grazed Bakura's neck. "You get a body too." Dark violet eyes were deadly serious as they stared into Bakura's.

"The fuck are you on?" Bakura snarled. "I have a body."

"It isn't yours." Marik's dark form gazed evenly into Bakura's eyes.

Bakura laughed aloud. "And you care because?"

"It isn't right." The Rod dug into Bakura's skin slightly, the dark voice firm and unforgiving.

"I should not have let my pathetic host talk to you." Bakura growled, attempting to pull away.

Marik's wrist slammed into Bakura's shoulder, holding him firmly down against the sheets. A low growl rumbled in his throat, dark violet eyes flashing as they seared into Bakura's. "His name is Ryou. And mine is Kek."

"What?!" Bakura stared, genuinely stunned. He shook his head.

The Rod dug sharply into Bakura's neck. "You release Ryou and get a body of your own, or you are never seeing Marik again."

Bakura snarled, fury marring his expression as he clawed the bedsheets. The Rod at his neck severely impeded his movements, but he swore in his head that if he could, he would be strangling the stupid dark spirit to death faster than an owl swoops up a mouse.

"Well?" The Rod pushed into pale skin. A trickle of blood ran down his throat.

Bakura coughed, snarled, and snapped his jaw shut. When he spoke, it was between gritted teeth.

"Fine. You have a deal."

The name 'Kek' for Yami Marik is Miss Macabre Grey's, and Zorc calling Marik 'mouse' comes from an RP I have with FanGirl16. Thank you to both of them for letting me pinch their names, and sorry to Grey for writing deathshipping almost identically to the way you do! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for reading and being patient with my slow updates! - Jem