Another chapter! Thanks so much to all my reviews for taking the time to leave feedback, it really means a lot to me. I'm kind of letting the characters run with this story here, I've established their personalities so I'm just letting them take over and deal with it. :3

Huge chapter coming up after this one, but for now, a little character development and a little bit of angst. Anyway, onto the chapter!

Enjoy!

Chapter 6- Moving On

Marik sat on Ryou's bed staring out of the window sadly. It was getting light outside and he still hadn't gone to bed yet. Ryou himself was currently asleep in the bed behind him and he was breathing evenly, thankfully. He had only just fallen asleep after Marik had finished cleaning him up: it had taken him ages to calm down enough to relax. Marik had been able to piece together what had happened on the journey home, even though Ryou had been barely conscious at the time.

"Get me away!" Ryou was gasping over and over as they finally gained access to the alley outside the club.

Marik paused to steady the smaller teen who was violently shaking and struggling for breath.

"It's ok," he said as calmly as he could. "Ry, it's ok, you're safe, we're outside now."

"No, it's not safe, we need to leave!" Ryou's voice was growing more urgent by the second and a group of people nearby were starting to give them strange looks.

"Calm down, it's going to be ok," Marik said, trying to keep a level head, which was difficult as he was still recovering from earlier. "Can you walk?"

Ryou pressed his hands tighter against his wounds and moaned in reply.

Sighing, Marik picked the small teen up bridal style, which earned a few mutters, and set off home as fast as he could.

"We need to get you back to the apartment, Ry. Can you hear me? We're going home."

The white haired boy moaned again before shuddering. Marik guessed he was going into shock, but there didn't seem to be enough blood to merit a hospital trip. The best thing to do would be to get home as fast as possible.

"Marik… He… He bit me," Ryou gasped out. "He said he wanted to make me s-scream and so he h-hurt me. And when I r-ran he said he would find m-me. He called me his l-little l-light and he wouldn't let me g-go." He dissolved into sobs again as he clutched his neck. "M-Marik, it really h-hurts."

"I'm going to kill him. Bakura too," Marik growled, more to himself than Ryou.

"Who's Bakura?" Ryou asked distantly, as though he just needed something to distract him.

"The arsehole that's responsible for this," Marik replied shortly. "He knew Mariku was a liability but he left him alone with you."

Ryou's sobbing only increased at this, and they said nothing more as Marik carried the small teen home and sorted out his wounds.

So Mariku was insane, that much was clear, Marik thought as the sun rose fully, casting a warm light into Ryou's room. And Bakura had known… That was the worst part: Marik had been prepared to trust the person that had helped him when he'd had his breakdown, but it turned out that Bakura really didn't care about the safety of others at all.

It was always the people who got close to you that hurt you. Marik cursed himself for not remembering that sooner. Rising from the bed he cast a final glance at his best friend before leaving the room, heading for his own bed at last.

Tiredly he pulled his shirt and pants off before crawling into bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly as he would need to be up when Ryou was awake again. Unfortunately his overactive brain kept him awake.

He had trusted Bakura. He had finally trusted someone who had seen him at his most vulnerable, only to find out moments later that they weren't to be trusted at all. And to think that he could have perhaps had some sort of feelings towards the white haired man... Marik crushed that thought before it could grow to haunt him- he could never have felt anything for such an annoying, arrogant idiot who kept getting fired.

Pulling the covers closer around him he screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to block out all thoughts of the evening, and eventually he fell asleep.

Marik was woken a couple of hours later by a tentative knocking at his door. The sun had risen fully now: he put a hand over his face to shield his eyes from the light.

"Yeah?" he called sleepily.

Ryou opened the door and entered, and once Marik's eyes adjusted to the brightness he gasped. The small teen looked terrible. He had dark circles under his eyes, which were rather red as though he'd been crying, and his face was paler than usual. But the worst part was the bruises. They ran up his exposed arms and across the part of his neck that wasn't covered by bandages, as though someone had grabbed him and not let go. The Egyptian hadn't noticed them a few hours ago.

Marik was out of bed in an instant, crossing the room to meet his friend who looked as though he was about to collapse.

"Marik… I don't feel so good…" he said as Marik took him by the shoulder and guided him to the bed.

"You should really be sleeping, you had a terrible night," Marik replied as Ryou sat down slowly, wincing as he did so. "How's your neck?"

Ryou's hands moved up to the bandages that covered most of his collar bone and neck and grimaced. "Still painful, but that's only to be expected." His voice broke on the last word and before Marik knew what was happening the small Brit had burst into tears and was sobbing into his chest.

"I was such an idiot, Mar'!" he wailed pitifully. "I wasted so much time and thoughts on that guy and he turned out to be a total psychopath. I'm so stupid for thinking it would be okay, I could even tell he was crazy: he had that 'bad-boy' thing going on but I thought somehow I could make it better!" He took a deep breath. "That was a fucking brilliant plan, wasn't it?"

Ryou's voice finally gave out and he was left leaning on Marik trying to stop his tears. Marik, for his part, was surprised at his friend's outburst, it wasn't very often that his gentle friend had a bad word to say about anyone and he never swore unless he was under a lot of stress.

Honestly though, Marik agreed with his friend. Ryou looked so innocent that he wouldn't have thought someone would have the heart to harm him when he clearly couldn't defend himself. Then again, if Mariku was some kind of sadist then it was only to be expected… He probably thought of Ryou as some sort of victim, the psycho.

"Come on, Ry. I think you need some more sleep," Marik said gently. "It is Saturday, after all. You can have a lie-in."

Ryou sniffled a little. "I was supposed to be meeting Yugi for a study session later," he said sadly. "I'll have to cancel now."

Marik nodded. "I think that'll be for the best. You don't want any awkward questions, do you?"

"No, I don't. And I don't want to have to explain to Jou and Ryuji what happened either."

"Okay then, let's get you back to bed. You can text Yugi, I'll check your neck and you can sleep in for the rest of the day. You know I'll help you through this, Ry."

"But it's my turn to do lunch and dinner," Ryou protested weakly as the Egyptian put an arm around his waist and helped him up.

"Don't worry about it, I'll do it," Marik replied.

Once he'd got Ryou back to bed and suitably dosed up on painkillers Marik was at a loss as to what to do. Obviously he couldn't leave the house: Ryou needed him, and he wasn't sure whether he would be able to work on his painting when so many thoughts were racing around his head. Bakura, Mariku, Ryou, Egypt, they were all chasing each other around his tired mind and all he wanted to do was block them out.

Marik opted to go and sit in his studio and think, surrounded by the comfort of his own paintings and familiar art supplies. He was still there, curled up on the old sofa staring at the sketch of himself and his siblings, hours later when Ryou awoke and came looking for him.

"Marik?"

"Yeah?"

Ryou hesitated before stepping fully into the room and closing the door. He walked slowly over to the sofa and sat down next to Marik, and appeared to be trying to think of a way to say something. Marik sat patiently, trying not to pressure his friend.

After a few moments Ryou seemed to give up and instead said, "Who's Bakura?"

Marik instantly tensed at the name and attempted to supress the surprisingly strong emotions he felt on hearing the name. "Nobody," he said abruptly, causing Ryou to look a little taken aback.

"But last night you said this was his fault…" he replied uncertainly.

Marik sighed and decided he might as well confess. Who knew, maybe it would help him to make sense of the situation more himself. Plus Ryou deserved to know.

"Bakura is a taxi driver who met on Wednesday night and again on Thursday when I went for my interview. He seemed to want to annoy me and even told me his name in case I wanted to get him fired for being too irritating, but he was also nice to me just before I went for the interview, offering to wait for me for some reason. At the time I was sure he was doing it to spite me but now… I'm not so sure he was…"

Marik paused to recollect his thoughts for a second before ploughing on. If he didn't say this now he'd never have to courage to say it again.

"Last night he came up to me at the bar when you'd left with Mariku and started talking to me. We spoke about a lot of different things and he was really nice to me: I thought we were getting somewhere but… Then he asked about my past." Marik had to stop again and Ryou gave him a sympathetic look. He knew about the Egyptian's past and knew how difficult it was for him to talk about it.

"And I kind of had a breakdown," Marik continued. "But he didn't leave me as I expected, he stayed and helped me through it. This is going to sound stupid but I thought that he really understood me. As though he had been through something similar too but didn't say it… I thought there was a connection… But then you came running and I found out what he'd done." He stopped talking suddenly, as though he'd run out of words, but really there just wasn't anything more to say.

Truthfully Marik didn't want to blame Bakura, he really didn't, but it was his poor judgement that had led to Ryou being hurt, and Marik couldn't forgive that. Beside him, Ryou had laid a hand on his arm to comfort him and now he spoke up.

"You know what we need to do, Mar'? We need to move on from this. All of it. The club, Mariku, Bakura, everything. Put it behind us and try and forget. It's the only way." The small teen's eyes were determined as he spoke, and Marik could tell there was no way he could get him to change his view on the matter. If Ryou wanted to forget, he would force himself to forget.

"I feel as though I've wasted the last few months wondering about this guy and it just ended up hurting me," the small Brit continued. "The whole thing was a mistake, I think you'll agree."

Resigning himself, Marik nodded. "If you're sure that's for the best, then that's what we'll do."

Ryou smiled sadly. "It'll be hard, but I need to forget about it for my sanity's sake. I need to move on."

Before Marik could reply the Brit stood slowly and left the room, leaving the former to his musings once again.

Could he do it? Could he really forget about the last few days? He sighed and stood to put the sketch pad back in the paint box, eye catching the rows of colourful paints as he did so. He thought about the russet colour hidden amongst the other tubes. He would have to use that colour in his current piece if he wanted it to look right. No, he probably wouldn't forget easily, he could admit that much to himself at least. But he would try for Ryou's sake. He would try.

He tried for the rest of the day, and the day after that. The days turned into weeks and the weeks slowly turned into months. All the time Marik tried to forget. He would have succeeded too, he thought, if he didn't have to keep using the dark red colour on the sunset part of his painting. Every time he delved into his paint box that russet tube would appear, almost as though it was taunting him to think of the very thing he was trying to forget.

He often managed to push the thoughts to the back of his mind, but on the odd occasion he would find himself simply curling up on the sofa instead of making progress on his painting. It was these times he had to wonder what he was even doing with his life.

He didn't even know anymore.

The first month was the hardest. Ryou's neck was slow to head and the bandages served as painful reminder to both teens. Ryou, determined not to get behind on his coursework, was forced to wear high necked tops and jumpers to avoid the awkward questions he was bound to get. Jou and Ryuji didn't make matters any better by commenting on them constantly and trying to get information out of Ryou about the 'mystery guy'. Marik had a feeling Yugi knew something was up but he doubted the shy teen would remark.

Marik started seeing a lot more of Yugi and Ryou's other course friends in the second month. Things started to get a little easier: Ryou no longer needed the bandages and the bruises on his arms disappeared, but neither of the teens were too eager to go out into the city at night. Ryou began inviting his friends over to the apartment a lot more often, for parties that usually went on well into the night. The parties grew bigger as people invited their friends over too, and soon it became uncommon for Ryou and Marik to have the apartment to themselves for an evening.

Marik could understand Ryou's reasons for hosting so many events: they were ideal distractions for them both and by surrounding themselves with people it made the loss of certain others easier to bear. For this reason Marik didn't begrudge his housemate any of the evenings. Between the parties and catering for semi-hungover people the next morning, Marik continued to work on his current painting. He only had a couple of layers left to do by the end of the second month: it was almost finished.

During the third month he got a phone call. Marik had woken up early to finish his current layer of paint, declining Ryou's invitation to the get-together last night so he could do so, and he was the only one awake when the trill of the phone sounded at ten o'clock. Putting his brush in some water and balancing his palette on the side table Marik headed out of his studio and into the living room.

Unsurprisingly the room was occupied, as it was most days until around mid-afternoon. This time the sight of Honda and Anzu on the sofa greeted his gaze, and Marik took a moment to pray that Ryou snapped out of his partying attitude sometime soon. The apartment was slowly getting messier and Marik had a feeling people were starting to take Ryou's hospitality for granted. It wouldn't be long before people would start coming in even when there wasn't a party.

Sighing to himself Marik picked up the phone and headed into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Marik Ishtar?" a female voice greeted him from the other end of the line.

"It is," Marik replied as he headed to the fridge to find some orange juice. They didn't often get calls in the apartment but when they did they were usually for Ryou, so it was odd that the caller wanted to talk to Marik.

"My name is Kisara Mizu, Mr Ishtar. I own the company 'Ka Corporation' and would like to arrange an interview with you for our next project. Mr Pegasus gave me your portfolio a few months ago saying you were looking for a job and I have to say I'm impressed."

Marik dropped the carton of juice he was holding. Was this a joke? Ka Corp was one of the most famous art companies in Japan. It was huge! Not to mention it had links with KaibaCorp which was notoriously famous for its international business partners. This had to be a joke.

"Are you still looking for a job, Mr Ishtar?"

Marik swallowed. If this was the real deal he couldn't afford to fuck it up.

"I am, yes," he said. "I would be more than happy to come for an interview. May I ask more about the project?"

"Of course, sorry for the abruptness," Kisara said, laughing slightly. "The project is called: Unseen Artist. It takes an unknown with potential and allows their work to become recognised by promoting it throughout our own company and our affiliates. We would be funding your work, any equipment and supplies you need would be paid for, and you would have a deadline to work to. I see potential in your art and would like very much to meet you."

Marik tried to speak but was unable to. This was his dream job! If he could do this then he'd finally be able to make a living from something he loved. He cleared his throat before trying to speak again.

"Thank you, Ms Mizu. I'd be more than happy to come for an interview," he said, trying to keep the euphoria out of his voice.

"Excellent. Are you free next Wednesday at eleven o'clock? You would need to bring a present painting and proof of identification."

Marik took exactly two seconds to work out that he was free before saying, "I am, yes. Do you have the address?"

Kisara gave him the address of the company before saying goodbye and hanging up. Marik stood in front of the open refrigerator in shock, still holding the phone. Had that really just happened? Had he just got himself an interview with one of the most prestigious art companies in the country?

He thought he just had.

Slowly, Marik picked the juice carton off the floor and let the fridge door swing shut. He heard voices in the other room but opted to stay where he was. This was definitely the best thing that had happened to him since he had left Egypt. Even if he didn't get the job he would be having an interview with the owner of KaCorp!

Marik was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even register another presence in the kitchen until Ryou was stood right next to him.

"Are you okay?" the small teen asked. "You look really odd…"

"No," Marik said distantly. "No, Ry. I'm fine. I'm more than fine, actually. I just got another interview."

"Oh that's great, Mar'! Where?"

Marik slowly walked over to the cupboard where the glasses were kept and opened it. Barely able to keep the smile off his face, he grabbed a glass and turned to face his friend's confused-yet-happy face.

"Ka Corporation," he said, grinning as he watched Ryou's reaction.

The Brit's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "Bloody hell! Really?"

"Yeah! Apparently my last interviewer gave the owner of the company my portfolio and she liked it! I have an interview next Wednesday, Ry!" Marik couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice any longer- his life was finally looking up!

"Congrats, Marik, I'm so happy for you," Ryou said, smiling. "I really hope you get the job, you deserve it."

"Thanks," Marik said, still grinning. "Come on, let's celebrate by eating out somewhere later, my treat."

"Sounds great," Ryou said. "I have a study session with some people this afternoon but I'll be back around four, so we can go out this evening."

"Brilliant!"

Later, when Marik was working on finishing his painting and Ryou had left, he wondered if he dared to hope that their lifestyle would go back to how it was. The last few months had been tough: Ryou had turned to partying to block out his thoughts and Marik had joined in to a certain extent, but it was getting stale.

Maybe, if Marik could get the job and start paying for some of the rent, the pressure on his friend would decrease and they could finally get back to normal.

'Hell knows,' Marik thought as he put the finishing touches to his painting, 'I need a bit of normality.'