Chapter Nine: His Sanctuary

The car ride home was painful, to say the least. She had basically stumbled into the front passenger seat, humiliated that she couldn't steady her shaking... And the idea of Marik thinking he was the reason for her present, pathetic state only made her feel worse.

Her eyes were fixed on the dashboard, though she was hardly focused on its rutted surface. Her thoughts were five minutes in the past, the fresh memories washing dread over her like a chilling arctic sea. Why had he backed off so suddenly? She hadn't expected him to actually listen when she'd humiliated herself further by whimpering for him to stop. No doubt he'd expected some form of fierce defiance, and at any other time she would've delivered just that. But pinning her against that car and- Her eyes went wide. If he'd expected defiance, her terror would have sparked questions in his mind, leading him to search her mind for answers and find— She sucked in air, her dread swelling along with her shaking.

He knows…

It was the most logical explanation, miles ahead of her second: the latter being that he'd suddenly had a guilt-driven change of heart, realised he was a sick, twisted, deranged psychopath and backed off as guilt consumed him and— Yeah, the first explanation made a lot more sense.

She glanced to her left at Marik. His eyes were set on the road ahead. No smug look for once? she wondered, somehow finding the absence of his smirk unsettling. He actually looked pensive, lost in thoughts she'd probably never know. It wasn't fair! He somehow had the means to find out her every thought, and all she could do was take a gander at how he felt purely by his expressions! She minutely wished that she could read his mind, if only to find out what he really did know.

Overwhelming memories clung to her brain, refusing to yield to the recesses of her mind like they somehow had almost all day. Suddenly, her lips began to curl into a pitiful pout as she tried and failed to force back the tears welling up in her eyes. Though Marik was driving, she quickly directed her face away from his peripheral vision and towards the window beside her. There was no way she'd let him see her looking so pitiful.

The teen girl swallowed, the action failing to wash away the stubborn lump in her throat. He had to be the worst person on the face of the planet know about that night! He already saw her as a pathetic, weak-minded, ignorant little girl…How did he see her now? She could try to convince herself that his opinions didn't matter, but she couldn't shake away her worry that he'd manipulate his newly-found knowledge to his advantage.

It was all my fault… This is the least I deserve…

Her own mind sounded foreign to her. She was always stubborn and never submissive...always fixed on staying strong and never tolerating someone's crap! It was then that she realised how much the events of her birthday had really changed her. It was as though life had thrust a mask her way, delicate like china, constructed of false confidence, stubbornness and spirit that – when under enough strain – cracked into a million tiny pieces, revealing the frightened little girl seeking sanctuary behind the mask. She ground her teeth, wrestling with her mind over her desperate desire to think no more of this.

Marik switched on the radio, briefly seizing her attention. Admittedly, the sound of Royals playing through the radio eased her a little.

The remaining five minutes spent driving home were surprisingly silent… no mind-speaking, no taunting, not even a smirk from Sir Jerk-A-Lot. If anything, A'isha thought he looked solemn now, as though recalling a particularly grave memory.

He turned into his driveway, opposite the place she now called home, and shut off the quietly rumbling engine, allowing silence to encase the vehicle within its eerie embrace. She watched him, thankful that her tears had now subsided. He was still and silent, his sight set on the garage door ahead, though she doubted he was truly looking it. What was he thinking?

Finally, he showed movement, his left hand reaching for his right shoulder. His eyes didn't leave the garage door ahead as he traced his fingertips across the bare skin of his shoulder, and for a split second she caught sight of a scar. It looked stretched… Like he had grown a fair bit since the day he got it. Was he remembering that day? Was that why he'd said nothing this whole car ride?

His eyes finally moved to meet hers. "I failed to mention this earlier," he began, surprisingly without a hint of arrogance in his voice…if anything, it was half-hearted, "but your aunt has tasked me with caring for you until Ahad gets home tonight."

A'isha straightened in her seat. "I'd rather march into Amarillo's house wearing a neon shirt that reads 'Tamarillo's A Psychopath'."

Marik smiled… and a small part of her thought it looked genuine. "As much as I'd love to see that, I imagine Elissa would not be too thrilled if she got home to find her niece in pieces."

That smile curled into his trademark smirk. I knew it couldn't stay away for long...

"And I wasn't lying when I told your aunt that you're in excellent hands," he continued. "I imagine leaving you at Amarillo's mercy would go against that statement."

A'isha rolled her eyes. "Really, you'd just prefer me to be at your mercy. Not Amarillo's."

"If you would prefer to be in Amarillo's company, she does only live two houses down from your own," he baited.

"I hope you're kidding."

"Regrettably, I'm not." His words dripped with sarcasm.

"So living within half a mile of one psychopath isn't enough?"

He said nothing, and she caught herself wishing he would… Did she actually enjoy their banter? Or did she just hate the silence? She went with the second reason, dismissing the first as absolutely ridiculous. These "discussions" were stressful, if anything, and she already had stress flooding from her ears as it was. She sighed, examining the blond teen, who was looking at her as an afterthought. She really couldn't be bothered arguing with him, for she knew he'd get his way whether she put up a fight or not…and right now she was too exhausted to even bother. She reasoned that Marik seemed a little less taunting than usual too.

"I'll stay," she murmured, deciding that if Marik was a royal pain, she could probably push her luck and sprint across the road to her house. Hopefully he wouldn't chase after her. "But don't make me regret being so compliant about it." Doubt infested her mind the moment his smirk returned.

"I can't make any guarantees, My Dear Ish."

"Don't call me that."

Marik's eyes laughed at her. "I see your stubbornness has returned."

"And I see your sadness has left."

He stilled, and this time A'isha found satisfaction in his silence. After all, she'd actually said something to make him speechless!

"What were you so lost in thought about?" she pressed. She didn't really think he'd tell her, but it was worth a shot…not to mention it distracted him from being a total jerk for a little while.

"Nothing that concerns you," he suddenly spat.

Ish frowned. Scratch that. He was still being a jerk. "Is it to do with Amarillo?"

For a split second, she was near certain shock had flashed through his lavender eyes. "Amarillo?" He laughed, sounding drier than two week old toast. "Why would I waste my thoughts on that embarrassing excuse for a woman?"

"What did you do to her six years ago that made her so afraid of you?" she pressed, repeating her question from the sickbay, and knowing she was treading on very thin ice.

"I already told you, that—"

"—doesn't concern me?" Her eyes narrowed. "Something tells me it does."

"You really shouldn't jump to such irrational conclusions," he spoke through strained lips. "Especially concerning matters that – as I just said – have absolutely nothing to do with you."

"Quit acting like I'm stupid!" she hissed, regaining some level of defiance. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out you've read her mind!"

"As you've just so clearly proven," he pressed, smirking.

A'isha's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Do you seriously have a death wish?"

"Is that a threat?"

"It doesn't take a genius to figure that out either," she snapped, "so I'm glad you understood that rather cryptic statement." Her fingertips were now brushing across the door handle as she seriously considered making a run for her house right then and there.

"True; unraveling your poor, but amusing excuse for a threat didn't take a genius, but I doubt there's much truth to it. The idea of you being the death of me is laughable at best."

Screw it, A'isha concluded, gripping the door handle firmly. I am not putting up with this until Ahad gets home! She swung the door open, scooping up her school bag as she did. Her first thought was to stomp down his driveway in the direction of her house, but in showing her frustration through physically storming off, she knew Marik would only enjoy the obvious results of winding her up. So instead, she attempted to calmly stride in the direction of her new home.

There was hardly a delay before the sound of a second car door clicking open met her ears. She quickened her pace, and refused to look back. The door shut soon after and the sound of swift strides bounced off the pavement.

She upped the pace another notch. "Go awa-!" Her words were cut short when a hand snaked around her right wrist, forcing her to a sudden stop.

"You're not going anywhere."

Her eyes narrowed as they shot over her shoulder to meet his gaze. "Yes I am!" she snidely replied, trying and failing to yank her wrist from his vice like grip. She shuddered as his thumb slowly traced soft circles along the bare skin of her wrist, no doubt in an attempt to nerve her further.

"It doesn't look that way to me." His smirk returned, not that it was ever really gone for long.

"If you let go of me—" She yanked again, "—maybe you'll see some results!"

"Why not simply obey me?" Marik goaded. He ceased tracing circles upon her skin, instead tightening his grip. "I'll win either way."

"Pride is one of the only things I have left in this world." She flashed a sweet smile. "I'd rather keep it."

"Pride will get you hurt," he said bluntly.

"I take it that's spoken from experience?"

His lavender eyes narrowed. "You'd like to know."

"Well obviously an arrogant jerk like yourself would value your pride."

"Don't we all? It is, after all, an integral part of being human."

"Hurry up and let go!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "I'd rather not stick around while you go on to ponder the meaning of life too."

Marik's hold on her wrist didn't budge. "Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life."

"How sweet. You missed your calling as a poet." She tried once more to yank her wrist from his grasp, to no avail. "So are we just gonna stay like this? Because there's no way in hell I'm going into your house."

"There's a park around the block," Marik suggested, all arrogance now stripped from his voice, replaced by nonchalance. "It's surrounded by houses, but there's also a convenience store across the street from it. It is rarely empty in the afternoons."

A'isha was silent as she mulled over his offer. It was a step up from his house as far as safety went, assuming that he was telling the truth. But she'd still have to deal with looking at the insufferable jerkwad, which was perhaps marginally worse than hearing him in her head. "Why should I trust that this park is safe?" she drawled slowly, sending a mistrustful look his way.

He revealed a sweet smile that made her want to gag. "You'll just have a trust me."

A'isha scoffed. "I don't even trust you as far as I can throw you."

His grip on her wrist was unwavering as his mocking smile morphed into that damn infuriating smirk. "You act as though I'm giving you a choice."

She tried and failed to yank the limb free once more, then resorted to a frustrated huff instead. It wasn't nearly as satisfying. "Jeez, I feel sorry for the girl that's dumb enough to deal with your controlling ass."

Marik laughed at her expense. "I'm certain Little Amara would beg to differ."

She groaned at the reminder of her cousin's apparent obsession with Mister High and Mighty. "Amara I can understand," she stated firmly, "But almost the whole damn school? How the hell did your psychopathic butt manage that?"

"Psychopaths are actually very charming individuals."

"So you admit that you're a psycho?"

"Of course not," Marik countered as though it were obvious. "I am merely shedding light on your rather ignorant statement. Psychopaths are far more common and far less detectable than their reputation suggests. And they're not all criminals."

"Well there's no way you have a sound frame of mind." Boy, is that the understatement of the century? she continued in her head, before realising he might be listening. She stiffened slightly, loosening a little only two seconds later when the thought was merely met by silence. Finally. "So if you're not a psychopath, then what are you?"

"Why is it that everyone in society must be labelled?" he softly challenged. "Why must there always be a reason for someone's behaviour? For the way they choose to live? Or the way they choose to interact with those around them?"

"Perhaps if someone has an excuse for the way they are, they're that much easier to understand, and that much less terrifying." She took a shaky breath as her lip quivered twice. "So what's your excuse?"

Lavender eyes narrowed on her. "I don't have one."

At last, Marik released her wrist, but much to her discomfort, he continued to eye her almost...defensively. A'isha gingerly rubbed her wrist with her left hand, sending a pointed glare his way all the while. She was about to attempt a scathing remark at the blond jerk when he spoke, his words surprisingly soft and without conceit.

"The park is this way."

A'isha scowled at Marik's retreating form, stepping suavely along the sidewalk and not even bothering to check if she was following. Her blue gaze trailed across the street to her house, the modern architecture hinting at the wealth of its owners. She was a fast runner and athletic enough. Why shouldn't she just make a run for it right now? She could scale the tall fence that closed off the back yard, find the spare key to the rear door in the potted plant near that entry, and simply dash inside. She sighed softly as her sights returned to Marik. But he'd still pester her with his freaky mind-talking powers.

The scuff of shoes met the teen girl's ears. She realised Marik had halted about fifteen steps away to give her a one eyed glance over his left shoulder. "You do realise I can hear you right now?"

A'isha glared daggers his way, her arms stubbornly folding across her chest as she huffed. The laugh that echoed through her mind only confirmed that she'd given him the reaction he'd been hoping for.

"It wouldn't be very prudent of you to attempt that little plan of yours, Dear A'isha." Another icy chuckle within her mind. "Though I must admit, it would be amusing to watch you try."

A defeated groan escaped A'isha's lips, though her defiant glower remained as she hesitantly opted to follow the infuriating boy. The frustrating fact that he won regardless of the choice she made bitterly occupied her mind on the silent walk to the park.

Five minutes later, the quiet duo found themselves passing by a small and reasonably well-kept convenience store. A'isha noted the occasional customer popping in and out of the shop, some reaching the location by foot like they had, while others pulled up in cars, making use of the few car parks that lined the sidewalk they currently paced along.

"So you weren't lying," A'isha murmured somewhat bitterly, eyeing her company as he looked up and down the street, before casually stepping across it, towards the tranquil park on the other side. She followed a few steps behind, checking for cars before hopping onto the road herself. She wasn't about to go trusting Sir Jerk-A-Lot's judgement. Not to mention a part of her hoped he had missed a car when looking both ways. Alas, that had not been the case.

"Of course I wasn't lying," Marik returned, regarding her comment moments ago. He turned to her once they were both safely across the street, smiling wryly. "When have I ever given the impression that I'd lie to you, Ish?"

"Only friends and family can call me Ish!" she muttered sourly, not sharing his amusement. "You don't fall under either of those categories." She inhaled sharply, trying and failing to dismiss the frustration that bubbled within her. Why did he have to be so damn good at pushing her buttons in all the wrong ways?

"Would you rather I pushed them in all the right ways?" Marik stirred, suggestiveness oozing from each and every word.

In your dreams! she hissed back, realising just how frequently she'd been glaring these past few days. And all thanks to this crazy nutcase!

Marik simply chuckled as he spun on his heel to wander along a concrete path lined with shrubs that were lush and green, thanks to it currently being almost three weeks into October, Alexandria's rainiest month. Though in the few days that she had been there, it hadn't rained once.

A low growl itched her throat as she stiffly followed him, curiously scanning her surroundings as she walked. The park was reasonably sized, the path they occupied branching off in two directions. One path led to a modest playground near the entrance, where a young boy laughed with a child's innocence as he slid down a bright blue, plastic slide. His mother kept a close eye on her son from a nearby bench, though her gaze often dropped to the infant that A'isha assumed occupied the pram parked beside her. Ish couldn't see inside the push chair from her current angle, as it was facing away from her.

A'isha minutely frowned, the sight reminding her of her own mother. Tears clawed at her eyes, begging for release that she refused to give, as her mind wandered almost two and a half weeks into the past.

Marik opted to take the other path, which snapped A'isha from her grim reminiscing. She looked off into the distance, quickly realising that the path met up with another street, while middle class houses lined the park itself on both sides. A few benches scattered the grass near where they currently wandered, beside a modest pond that shimmered brilliantly beneath the warm Egyptian sun.

The blond teen seized her attention when he left the path, his leather shoed feet sinking into the vibrant green grass that blanketed the majority of the area. She watched him inquisitively as he approached a tall tree, which loomed over them both, casting a shadow that shielded them from the burning rays of the sun, though a few stubborn rays somehow managed to sneak through the leaves, spotting patches of the ground in light. A'isha almost immediately recognised the tree as a very mature royal poinciana. In Egypt, from May through to June, stunningly bright red flowers bloomed at its ends, like a cloak thrown over the green leaves that lined its branches. Sadly, only those leaves remained at this time of the year.

A'isha smirked, swiftly striding past Marik to effortlessly scale the tree. Back in Los Angeles, a few aged coral trees had been dotted about her back yard. She had always enjoyed climbing them. As a child, Ish had enjoyed the triumphant feeling that washed over her upon reaching the highest points that she could manage without a branch snapping. As a teenager, she had scaled them when she found herself troubled. And perhaps still a little bit for the satisfaction of reaching the top.

Wavy, raven hair wafted about her, tickling her face as A'isha reached the highest point that she could manage, without a branch breaking beneath her weight. At least she didn't have to see Mr High and Mighty's face from...up...here. Her features instantly distorted into a look of pure agitation as Marik's smug face entered her line of sight.

"I used to climb this thing all the time as a kid," he explained, eyes laughing at her.

A'isha instantly wanted down. There was only one problem. "You're in my way."

"I guess you'll just have to deal with Mr High and Mighty's face." His mocking gaze narrowed on her. "Won't you?"

A'isha scoffed, refusing to reveal just how nerving it was that he could read her every thought...through physical expression anyway. Though, really, what was the point? He could always find out how she was feeling, what she was thinking. Any information he wanted was only a mind read away.

"How do you have these freaky mind powers?"

Marik gave an entertained scoff. "You've already asked this. Why do you think I'd tell you now?" he countered. "After all, I don't plan on ending this little game of ours when it has barely begun."

"What?" A'isha looked incredulous. "So telling me how you do it is somehow going to hinder your abilities to do so?"

"No."

"Then why the hell can't you tell me!" A'isha shrieked, fighting hard against the rage that had her trembling. After all, losing her cool when high up in a tree wasn't exactly a good idea.

"I could tell you," he began, smiling sweetly. "But I choose not to because it's simply not important."

This was just becoming ridiculous. "Not. Important." she hissed through clenched teeth, her short nails digging hard into the thick branch on which they sat. "How is the fact that you can read my thoughts and talk to me in my head anything but important? What? Is this just another day for you? Do you just go around using your creepy mind powers on anyone you want?!"

He watched her closely, savouring the fury he'd brought forth and only continued to fuel with his never-ending, mocking gaze. He answered a second later, "If using my 'creepy mind powers', as you so eloquently put it, serves anything to my advantage, then yes. I do use them." He scoffed. "I'd be a fool to not make use of the abilities I have and the rather obvious benefits of doing so."

A'isha continued to glare at the blond. "And yet you're a monster for using them."

Marik surprised her with his silence, as a frown flickered across his face. She hoped she'd hurt him with that comment. She hoped that was why he'd shut up for once. It was the least he deserved after everything he'd put her through in the short time she'd been here. And for everything he'd no doubt continue to put her through until she eventually left Alexandria for greener pastures… if or when that ever happened.

"This was the first place I ever used my powers," Marik suddenly spoke up, snapping her from those thoughts. She looked left to find him almost completely void of emotion, save for perhaps the slightest sliver of...sorrow?...in both his eyes and his words. "Right here in this tree." His eyes dropped to the green ground below. "I was ten."

"When your father died?"

Marik froze at that. "What gives you that idea?" he said a little too quickly, his tone defensive.

"Elissa told me your father was murdered when you were ten. And you almost seemed sad as you talked about it just now..."

"Sad? Over my father's demise?" Marik heaved an amused chuckle. "I'm glad he was killed. He deserved it. If anyone in this world was a monster, it was him."

"Then is he what made you this way?" Realisation sparked to life inside her mind, like a light bulb flashing brightly above her, as she recalled the glimpse she'd caught of stretched scars upon his back only around twenty or so minutes ago. "And did he give you those scars on your back?"

A low growl rumbled in his throat. "You're asking an awful lot of questions, girl," he basically spat.

"And you're not answering any of them!" A'isha shrieked, as both teens became the victim of the others venomous stare. "And you're the one who told me this was where you first used your creepy mind powers. What do you expect me to say?"

Marik's sour stare faded to blankness and a second later, his amethyst gaze dropped to the two tanned hands that rested in his lap. Slowly, he raised his right hand, thoughtfully extending each finger, curiously wiggling them as though the sensation was new to him. "How different would your life be if you possessed the very powers that I hold at my fingertips?" His hand fells to his side, where he absently brushed his fingers over the rough bark of the branch that supported their weight. "Would your parents still be alive?"

A'isha's stomach sunk, the icy tendrils of horror swiftly seizing the organ within its tight, ruthless grasp. Nausea soon reared its ugly head her way as she desperately suppressed the hot bile that burned her throat, before resorting to churning her stomach instead. He definitely knew.

"Just as my abilities can bring about unrelenting fear within others, they can also be used to thrust light into a life shrouded by dark, dismal despair." He chuckled then. "Spouting oddly poetic words of hope… Clearly I've been spending too much time with my sister."

"Clearly not enough," she snidely stabbed. "She's actually nice. Same goes for Odion." She arched a mocking brow. "So what went wrong with you?"

Marik rolled his eyes. "Really, girl, how memory must fail you… I have already stated that my actions have no excuses."

"Only consequences?" She was incredulous once more.

"Precisely."

"I don't buy it." When silence was her only reply, she decided to back track a little, surmising that he had no intention of discussing 'excuses' further. "You say you can make life better with your freaky mind powers. So when have you ever used them for that purpose?"

"I stopped Amarillo from punching you."

Her mood rapidly soured even further at the reminder of her first encounter with that damn Tamarillo cow. She delicately touched the lump on her forehead that was thankfully concealed behind black bangs. "You only stopped the first punch."

The smile that snaked onto Marik's lips only heightened her unease. "But did you not accept any potential consequences the moment you went through with your actions?"

"Well, yeah…" A blush grazed her cheeks as his smile widened. "But I...I didn't expect her to go all Incredible Hulk on my butt."

"So what was your excuse for standing up to her?" So maybe he was still open to discussing 'excuses'.

"You already know the answer to that." For once, Marik knew the answer not because of his mind powers, but because she'd told him herself back in the cafeteria that the bullying beast needed to learn her place… though she had still told him this through the weird telepathic talk they seemed to have going on.

A'isha sighed when Marik cocked a brow, silently asking for elaboration anyway. "Because she was being a rude, selfish bitch and someone needed to make sure she knew her behaviour was not okay!"

"Were you really any better than her back in America?"

A'isha flinched as though he'd slapped her. He might as well have. She hadn't expected the comment, and yet she knew she should've… Of course he'd discovered what she'd been like back in America by means of his weirdo psychic abilities. "I-I never punched anyone," she sputtered, struggling to gather her composure as guilt gripped her mind without mercy. She knew she'd made some horrible choices. She'd hurt people. Made friends with the wrong crowd; with people better off being enemies. But the jerk didn't need to remind her of it. After all, hadn't she paid the price on her birthday some two weeks ago?

"A tongue has no bones," Marik murmured softly, "but it can still shatter one's psyche."

"And not all scars are set in skin," A'isha snidely shot back, satisfied upon seeing him noticeably stiffen. This time, she knew she'd struck a chord.

Both teens fell silent, conceding to their thoughts; depressingly for A'isha, only one of them was lost in thoughts the other would never know. All was still, save for the rustling of leaves in the light afternoon breeze and a child's laughter in the distance.

A'isha straightened slightly when her company finally left his spot beside her on the sizeable branch, years of experience evident as he effortlessly scaled down the thick tree trunk to meet vibrantly green grass once more.

"Distrust is one's only defence against betrayal." The words echoed softly through the confinements of her mind as their owner found the ground very intriguing. "I believe that is something we can both agree on, Dear A'isha."

A'isha's bottom lip quivered, memories returning as tears threatened to show. Betrayal is universal to those without principle.

He looked at her then, an odd combination of irritation and understanding within the depths of his amethyst orbs. "Is that directed at me? Or at the fool you once called your boyfriend?"

Finally, a sob shook her body as warm droplets snaked down her cheeks like a ruthless river. A silent answer to his question.

"I shouldn't have said that..." The admission came surprisingly gentle, and she didn't miss the guilt etched through his words. But that didn't stop her from doubting the emotion's existence. And yet the slightest part of her was amazed by the closest thing the jerk could likely come to apologising.

With that, Marik suavely spun on his heel, taking slow, almost sombre steps back the way they'd came. And for the first time all day, A'isha had a feeling he didn't want her to follow him.

I have to give credit to "Desert Rose" by Adelianna (a classic Marik/OC fic that you should read if you haven't already). It inspired a couple of lines in this chapter that really just seemed to fit :D