Gah I've been gone ages! So sorry this update took forever, I've had a rough few months. Hopefully these updates will speed up a bit now, because I love writing this story, truly, and I really want to get to the ending. Thank you to everyone who is sticking with me, I honestly really appreciate knowing people are reading this. ^_^ - Jem

Bakura lay on the bed, the cold metal of the Millennium Rod still pressed tightly into his neck, just beneath his chin. He remained calm, despite the coldly controlled fury running through his veins. Working moisture into his mouth, Bakura pursed his lips and remained gazing steadfastly into the dark violet eyes of the form currently squatting on his stomach. It should be Marik. Bakura's whole broken, tormented soul cried out at the wrongness of looking into Marik's eyes and seeing some other glaring back out.

Marik's body shifted as the dark being rose. "The deal is that both you and I get separate bodies." His brows lowered, a glare directed straight at Bakura, accompanied by the Rod pressing thickly against Bakura's neck. "You leave Ryou's body alone."

Bakura arched a brow. He somehow managed to look arrogant, even splayed out flat on the bed with the Millennium Rod aimed right at his jugular. He chuckled. "I never expected you to be doing my pathetic little host's dirty work."

A snarl ripped through the air as Marik's body landed back on top of Bakura, sending the air whooshing out of his lungs. Bakura gasped, actually wincing when the Rod sliced through his neck, sending bright red drops of blood dripping down onto his chest. Marik's body crouched above him, hissing dangerously. "You don't even deserve to be here. I should cast you back into the shadows."

Bakura snorted. "I've done far worse than that to myself already." Memories of Zorc swirled through Bakura's mind but he pushed them away, not wanting to think of the dark, squalid part of his mind where the demon resided.

"Nothing is worse than the shadows," Marik's dark half spat.

Bakura actually smirked around the metal at his throat. His lips were inches from Marik's as he spoke, tone arrogant and superior, weighted with an odd sort of disgusted pride. "You don't know the darkness as well as you think."

A roar broke from Marik's mouth. He rammed the Rod straight into Bakura's throat, forcing his pale head back as Marik's body straddled Bakura's stomach. "You are no better than me. What are you? Just another spirit, trapped without a body." Violet eyes hardened. "You are no better than me."

Bakura remained silent. After all, he couldn't really argue with that; he knew he was a leech, surviving only be feeding off the life energy of pathetic hosts, but he was too far gone now to care. And he wanted Marik. Anything that got in the way of that goal would surely be destroyed.

With an almost physical wrench, Marik's body lifted off Bakura and stood. The metal Rod disappeared from his throat, instead hanging limply from Marik's hand. He glared. "Get us bodies, now."

Bakura stayed stiff and still, unblinking as he lay on the bed. Cautiously, he lifted himself up from the bed, the bandages about his chest tightening, blood dripping from the new wounds on his neck. He cast a dark, impassive glare in Marik's direction. "Show me Marik first."

"Like hell." A scoff passed Marik's lips as the Rod raised again.

Bakura remained calm – at least, outwardly. He propped himself up, sitting carefully and eyeing the other. "Listen, dark one, I have abso-"

"Kek," Marik's dark half interrupted, voice a low crack in the air. "My name is Kek."

"Whatever," Bakura continued impatiently, though he arched one slightly-amused brow. "I have absolutely no intention of giving you your own body until I know for sure that Marik is unharmed. So bring him out here now."

Kek snarled. "Forget that."

Bakura leaned back, though every single muscle in his body was straining towards the body before him, longing to force Marik back into the present. The thought of him trapped, alone in the shadows, was almost enough to awaken Bakura's long-dead heart. However, he forced himself to sound calm. "Well, fine, if you don't want this body of yours..."

Kek shifted, lips pursing furiously. Bakura could practically see the cogs in his mind whirring, working out that without seeing Marik, Bakura would not give him anything. But Marik could not be allowed control of the body again, or Kek would never get out; at least, not until the next time he was strong enough to overpower Marik. Kek almost snarled at the thought of living back in the darkest shadows again. He could not condemn himself – or Ryou – to that fate.

"Fine," Kek growled. "But Marik's not getting this body. I'll let him go back in the Ring so you can talk to him there."

Bakura's features instantly dropped. "I'm not letting my host have control again. I don't trust him around you."

"As I don't trust mine around you." Kek smirked, his chin lifting arrogantly. The Rod was still a threatening present in his fist.

Bakura's jaw clicked. He was ready to grind his teeth in fury, or fly across the room and knock Marik's dark half to the ground, but he knew that he had to keep at least some small semblance of control. For Marik's sake. He hissed between his teeth, the sound full of fury. Without a word, Bakura closed his eyes and relinquished control, allowing his soul to fall back into the darkness of the Ring. When he opened his eyes, blue-black shadows once more swirled around him, empty.

Fear clutched Bakura as he worried that he had been duped. He readied himself to force control back from his stupid little host, but the darkness began to coalesce once more before him and Marik's shape dropped to the ground by Bakura's feet, crumpled and ashen and far weaker than Bakura had ever seen him before.

"Marik!" Bakura didn't even think before he was moving. He fell to his knees and grabbed Marik's shoulders, lifting his small broken body quickly and cradling him against his chest. Marik was worryingly unresponsive, his eyes closed and expression gone. Exhaustion dropped from his every limb. Bakura sat back and tugged Marik into his lap, laying him on his back and cradling him, much as a parent would their child. One of his hands moved to the back of Marik's head, supporting him gently, fingers soft. He lifted Marik closer, rocking him slowly. "Wake up, Marik."

Marik remained still.

Bakura gave a low cry of frustration, fury ripping through him. He gave Marik a harsh shake. "Ishtar! Wake the fuck up, now, or by all the Gods of Egypt I swear I will rip out your heart and eat it!"

An unintelligible groan sounded from Marik's parted lips. His eyes remained closed, the lids fluttering slightly, as another noise sounded from him. It sounded suspiciously like: "Shut up, asshole..."

Bakura didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He gathered Marik up close to him, cradling his broken body tightly against his chest. Bakura's hand cupped the back of Marik's head, holding him against his shoulder as he rocked them gently amidst the deepest darkest shadows. For once, all of Bakura's emotions were plain to see on his face – fear, relief, worry, anger, and something very close to love. It was a shame that Marik was too weak to see it, as in all likelihood the opportunity would never arise again. Bakura despised his emotions.

"Don't you dare do that to me again," Bakura growled lowly into Marik's ear. His features soon slid back into their impassive mask, hiding the plethora of emotions in his weak heart.

Marik stirred slightly. "Didn't mean to..."

"What's wrong with you?" Bakura gave him another gentle shake, his free hand coming up to lightly touch Marik's cheek. He had never touched anyone as softly as this, but Marik looked so vulnerable that Bakura couldn't help himself.

Marik mumbled, forcing his eyes open with an inordinate amount of effort. "I'm exhausted. I was fighting so hard to get back in my body, but that fucker of my dark half is damn strong..."

Bakura sighed. He cuddled Marik closer. "Don't worry. I know exactly how to get rid of him."

"You said you had it solved." Marik managed to glance exaggeratedly at the darkness surrounding them. "But we still seem to be stuck in the Ring. What's ... what's your master plan this time?"

"Trust me." Bakura's lips caressed the top of Marik's head, holding him tightly. "I will fix this."

...

Ryou gasped when he suddenly found himself back in control of his body. He slid down the bed, wincing at the new cuts in his throat, pain throbbing through his neck. He drew in a harsh breath, fingers flying to his throat, returning covered in blood.

"Ryou!"

Ryou felt a strange sort of relief at hearing that dark voice again. His voice gurgled slightly as he glanced back up at Marik's body, warmth flooding through him when he saw that it was still definitely not Marik in control. "Kek. What – what happened?"

"Bakura came back." Kek growled, advancing with the bloody Rod held high. "So I hurt him."

Ryou winced, rubbing gently at his throat. "I can tell. But where's he gone? He never gives me control..."

"He wanted to see Marik." Kek's voice twisted bitterly around the other name. "But I wouldn't let him out."

Ryou frowned. "I thought he was already with Ma-" he was cut off by a round of coughing, wincing weakly at the pain in his chest and back, his small body trembling. Ryou fell back on the bed, the room spinning crazily around him. He closed his eyes.

There was a shift from the end of the bed, where Ryou presumed Kek had seated himself. Sure enough, Kek's familiar voice soon reached his ears again. "Bakura's probably going to be back soon."

Ryou's eyes flew open. He sat straight up, gazing at Kek in something close to betrayal. "What?!"

"He's going to get us bodies." Kek's dark violet eyes – the only parts of Marik's body that truly belonged to Kek – were boring straight into Ryou.

Ryou stopped short. He swallowed, eyes narrowing as he pierced Kek with a firm stare. "He what?"

"He came out here spouting that he could get me a body," Kek growled, those intense dark eyes boring straight into Ryou. "So I can get rid of Marik."

Ryou blinked. A small crease appeared in his brow, adding to the pained wrinkles already covering his face as he sat up a little further, tilting his head. "Bakura offered you a body?"

Kek's only response was to nod.

Of course, it made sense, Ryou realised slowly. Bakura must have realised that Kek was too strong for Marik to fight off himself, and in his desperation had promised that Kek would gain his own form. But Bakura mustn't have realised the danger of that situation; Kek, set loose in his own body...? Ryou held back a shudder. And, of course, I'll be back in my soul room, Ryou realised with a bitter twist to his lips. Another huge memory gap would be coming, whenever Bakura got bored. If he ever even would. The rate things were going with Bakura and Marik, Ryou highly suspected that he would live out the rest of his life trapped in his soul room.

"I'm glad," Ryou finally managed to speak, though he kept his gaze trained deliberately away from Kek. "For you, I mean. You deserve your own life."

There was silence apart from a slight rustle of sheets. Then, to Ryou's surprise, a brown hand landed on his knee, the touch clearly not meant to harm. For a second, Ryou thought Marik was somehow back in control, but the voice that spoke next most definitely belonged to Kek. "You're getting yours back, too."

"What?" Ryou's head shot up, hope clawing in his chest despite himself.

Kek's expression was unreadable. The veins had gone from his face, leaving only a slightly stretched version of Marik, although the wildly spiked hair and dark violet eyes could only belong to Kek. "Bakura's getting his own body. That's part of the deal."

The crease in Ryou's brow deepened as he tried to understand. He swallowed a little painfully, biting his lower lip as he drew in a shaky breath, staring intently at Kek. "Did Bakura suggest that?"

"No." The word dropped from Kek's lips like a stone.

Ryou sat up, daring to move closer to Kek. "Then ... then you did?"

Kek nodded again.

Ryou stared straight into Kek's eyes, completely and utterly dumbfounded. He swallowed, his voice squeaking slightly. "I ... really?!"

Amazingly, a slight smile flitted across Kek's lips before it disappeared again. "You deserve your own life, too."

Ryou just smiled as he felt warmth flood through his veins. He lifted one slightly-trembling pale hand and placed it above Kek's, surprised by the warmth of that brown skin. "Thank you."

Kek merely shrugged.

Before Ryou had a chance to speak again, he could feel a familiar darkness taking over his head, accompanied by that jolt-then-falling feeling that told him he was headed back to his soul room.

...

A low growl escaped Kek's throat as Ryou's body morphed before him, hair lifting and back straightening to reveal the form of Bakura. Dark brown eyes opened and Bakura hissed, "Right, you get your deal. Bodies for both of us, then you get the fuck out of our lives."

Kek merely arched a brow. "You're leaving Ryou alone, too."

"I don't care what sort of twisted deal you have with my host, but you are staying away from Marik." Bakura's nostrils flared as he turned on Kek, his eyes narrowing dangerously and his hands clenching into tight fists. The image of Marik's broken, greying form in the Ring floated through his mind.

Kek gave a low, dark chuckle. "Get me my body, and we'll see what happens."

Bakura kept staring at him for a long, long moment. It went against each and every one of Bakura's deeply ingrained instincts to trust any sort of dark spirit with anything, particularly when said dark spirit was draining Marik's life energy, but he was left with very little choice. Bakura growled. "If anything goes wrong, there will be hell to pay."

Kek's dark violet eyes glowed.

Bakura dipped his head in a begrudging nod before his borrowed brown eyes slid closed. He could hear Ryou babbling mindlessly away in some dark corner of their shared body, but Bakura largely ignored him, focusing instead on the third sharer in their twisted little deal. Shadows coalesced in his head, sitting heavily in his brain as that dark demonic voice almost crooned. Are we ready?

We are, Bakura silently responded. Two bodies. Me and the other.

A dark laugh was all Bakura got in response before the Shadow Magic took effect.

A vast ripping shot through Ryou's body, right from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. Bakura bore the brunt of it, pushing Ryou's more fragile spirit deep down and also creating as much protection around the Ring as he possibly could, knowing that Marik's fragile, fractured spirit still resided there. Darkness tore through his skull and Bakura's ears rang, his head filled with weight compressed tightly.

Shadows soon spurted from the tips of Bakura's outstretched fingers. A confusing whirlwind of blue-black darkness swirled up in an opaque mass, catching the small room in a roaring, freezing blade of opaque shadows. Both Ryou's and Marik's bodies were lifted and tossed carelessly up in a halo of black, accompanied by dark, cruel laughter as their souls were torn in two. A near-identical pair of bodies appeared.

Bakura landed back on the ground with the closest thing to a scream his body had ever emitted. Everything ached. His fingers and toes tingled with newness, his eyes wide and unseeing as he felt things for the first time in three thousand years. Bakura was starting to realise just how much being a secondary spirit dulled sensation; he could feel his heart beating, the air whooshing in and out of his lungs, the blood pounding through his veins at an alarming rate. His spirit adjusted to having its own home again. This body was completely ... his.

Almost.

Bakura closed his eyes and sighed. It was enough for now that he didn't have to put up with Ryou's constant complaining, or go back to the confines of the Ring on occasion to let his host out. Now, this was body was truly his. A permanent possession.

Marik.

Bakura's eyes flew wide open and he sat up, immediately wincing at the pain in his chest. Oh, wait, that was just his heart beating. He gave his head a shake before continuing upright, stretching high up into the air as his eyes stared around the room, taking in the desecrated scene before him. Items from the bedroom had been thrown around in the throes of the Shadow Magic, leaving random articles of clothing, books, and various other aspects of Bakura's life with Marik spread haphazardly around the room.

Three bodies were lying on the floor.

Bakura focused on each in turn. One was small and white, deep brown eyes blinking as pale hands fisted in the carpet, Ryou's body bowed over on its knees. Bakura barely spared him a glance before he turned to the other two. Both were brown-skinned and blond-haired, but that was about where the similarity stopped.

The first one to move could only be Kek. Blond hair rose in wild spikes, even wilder when not contained by Marik's form, and his brown body was quite obviously vast, even when he was sprawled out on the ground. A low growl emitted from Kek's throat as he stirred. Bakura watched with almost fascination as his broad body unwound, clambering back to his feet. Dark violet eyes span around to smirk at Bakura.

Bakura held that dark gaze for half-a-second before all his attention zeroed in on the only body yet to stir. "Marik!" He ran straight over, hands fluttering uselessly on Marik's back, turning his body roughly as Bakura searched his face. Marik's eyes were still closed, but his skin was back to the light brown that Bakura had come to know and love, not that horrid greying brown he has last seen inside the Ring. Bakura hoisted Marik up into his lap, holding his body close and cradling him gently. "Marik?"

There was no sound from Marik's lips, but on closer inspection Bakura saw that he was breathing. Bakura lifted him gently. "Marik, talk to me, you fucker. I did it. Didn't I say I could do it?"

There was a raspy chuckle from somewhere behind them, accompanied by a small squeak, but Bakura ignored the two new occupants. Instead, he focused on Marik. Bakura lifted one hand to lightly trace down Marik's cheek, brushing the blond hair away from his forehead.

Marik stirred. A low groan left his lips, his closed eyelids fluttering slightly until they opened, bleary violet blinking up at him. Bakura gave a low gruff cry and pulled him closer, arms tightening painfully around Marik. "Marik!"

"'s me..." Marik's weary voice answered. He blinked and shifted slightly, lifting one hand to touch Bakura's cheek. Bakura leaned into his touch with a slow smile, his eyes burning down into Marik's.

A deep crease appeared in Marik's brow, and it only grew deeper as he stared up at Bakura. His hand traced Bakura's pale cheek, movements almost shy, until his hand dropped down into his lap again. Marik's expression was deeply confused as he spoke, his voice raspy with tiredness.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Ok so I finally updated XD Sorry I was gone so long. I am back, though, and I have plans for this story. Hopefully the next chapter will be up much sooner than it took to get this one out, especially as I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger ^_^ Thank you all for reading! - Jem