Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Paranoid ❯ The coward I am ( Chapter 16 )

Aloha readers! How are you? Thank you SO much for reviewing and making me so happy!!! I owe you a lot! Before I continue with this chapter, I'd like to warn you there may be some extra typos in this chappy. I'm really sorry, but I can't help it. It's 4 in the morning, and I can't focus properly. I am trying though!!!

 

PLZ tell me what you think!!!!

 

IMPORTANT

 

For those of you who like my other story “REWIND 1”, I'd like to tell you that I definitely WILL continue the story. It's just that it takes a lot of time to type one of those HUGE rewind 1 chapters. Nevertheless, I want to finish this story first. Then I'll focus more on my novel/saga: (!! Just kiddin' I don't write no sagas)

 

 

 

 

 

“This feels really weird.”, came the somewhat nervous voice of the exotic Egyptian, accompanied by a heavy sigh. He squirmed a little on the bed. “I don't know where to start…”

 

A low, deep snicker was heard, as Marik averted his eyes from Bakura's face and tried to stare at anything but those sultry, sinful eyes. The albino slowly crawled over his lover's body, softly dipping his face in the crook of Marik's neck.

 

“Just relax…” the eerily scorching breath flew on his skin, and Marik shut his lavender eyes in sheer bliss. “Start from the beginning…” Bakura finished, as he settled his body next to the Egyptian's. Marik really did try to ignore those demanding red orbs, but he had no luck.

 

The albino's glossy eyes were softly gazing up at him, as a small gentle smile lingered on Bakura's lips. The boy was tracing lazy circles on the blonde's mocha toned chest.

 

Marik sighed softly. Shit. Confessions were never his thing. Of course, it wasn't as bad as going to the shrink, but he still didn't know where to start. Suddenly, a thought ignited in the Egyptian's brain.

 

Bingo!!

 

With a rapid movement, he sat up, forcing Bakura to stop caressing him and look at him curiously.

 

“Uh…I think I'm hungry! We really have to get out of bed, so…” he made a quick move to stand up and flee, but Bakura pulled him back down immediately.

 

“Oh no you don't!” the albino said, as he rolled over and pinned Marik beneath him. “You're going to tell me. Now.”

 

Marik felt himself get lost in the depths of those familiar pools of blood, idly wondering how Bakura's eyes were now rapidly changing from liquid fire to chasms of blood.

 

“You can't keep running away forever, Mariku. Tell me.” Bakura demanded somewhat crossly, as his piercing orbs burned deep into Marik's lavender jewels.

 

The blonde sighed yet again, and tried to turn his head away, but found Bakura's hand tilting his chin back.

 

“Tell me…” Bakura pleaded once again, and Marik was surprised to see something change in the albino's eyes. Suddenly, they seemed to sparkle a bit…they seemed more glossy…

 

Could it be…tears?

 

But why?

 

Marik started to panic, as he saw the only person that actually mattered to him in a state of such sorrow. Bakura's face had curiously transformed into one of misery, and Marik tried to ask what was wrong.

 

But Bakura gave out an uncharacteristic wail before the Egyptian could even move. The albino roughly buried his head against Marik's chest, and the Egyptian instantly felt wet trails slide down his skin. Bakura's tears.

 

Marik was stiff and unbending. He didn't know what to do in such cases!! What was he supposed to do? Why was Bakura crying any way!?!? Everything was fine just a moment ago.

 

“Bakura…” he gave a significant attempt to comfort his love.

 

“I knew it!” the now hoarse and tear-muffled voice suddenly erupted “I knew it! You don't trust me! It was just a one-night thing…you don't….it's not like…we…you don't feel…”

 

Marik's crystal eyes widened immediately. So that was Bakura's problem! He thought that Marik didn't trust him! Since when had Bakura gotten so sensitive?

 

`Probably since you left him for two years, only to suddenly come back and claim him back in a matter of four days.' An annoyed voice reminded from the back of his head.

 

The familiar bubble of guilt burst open in Marik's heart. Ever since Bakura and he got together again, the albino was probably tortured with thoughts of rejection and doubt.

 

`My God, doesn't he know I love him!?' Marik instantly thought, as he stroked the boy who was curled against his chest. Suddenly, Marik paused and thought back on what he had just assumed.

 

`Wait…love?' he wondered, and then looked back down at the skinny albino's form. A lazy smile came over Marik's face as he watched the boy.

 

`Yeah…love…'

 

And for some reason, it still wasn't all that bad to accept that he loved someone. For some reason…he felt glad about it.

 

But of course, Bakura didn't know that yet.

 

A sudden sob cut through the air like a knife, and Marik was disgruntedly reminded of his predicament. He was lying on the bed, a crying Bakura curled against him and his own pounding heart to top it all off.

 

“It's okay…I understand…” Bakura suddenly dejectedly said, as he started to pull away from Marik's body “I see why you don't want to trust me…It was only a quick thing, I understand, really…”

 

Marik didn't know what to do to shut the albino up and prevent him from continuing that incoherent, detached mumbling. Thus, Marik resulted in the only way he was sure would stop Bakura from talking.

 

With a decidedly violent movement, he pushed himself upwards and caught the silver-haired boy in a searing kiss. The Egyptian could feel the distant shock and surprise in Bakura, as he could also taste the salty quality of tears in the other boy's mouth.

 

Through their kiss, Marik could feel the albino's need to let go. He could even sense the hardly restrained, self-conscious effort to hold back unspoken emotions, and Marik was glad to finally sense his love lose himself into the kiss completely.

 

Slowly, the silver one started to visibly weaken, his scrawny body melting limply in Marik's steel embrace. Bakura couldn't even muster the strength to dig his finger's in his beloved's golden locks- so breathless he was.

 

When Marik finally pulled away, Bakura was speechless. He promptly allowed Marik to pull him into his embrace and settle them both back in a lying position.

 

“We're staying in bed all day today…and I'm gonna tell you everything…okay?”

 

Marik tilted the red-eyed boy's chin up in order to stare straight into Bakura's inquiring eyes.

 

“Y-You trust me? Why? Isn't this over?” Bakura's soft,, sorrowful voice willowed in misery. Marik felt his temper rise.

 

“Of course not, you dolt! It's only starting! What did you think, that I was using you for a one night stand? I thought we went over this already! Besides, even if I was planning on abandoning you after I `used' you, why didn't you push me away? If you thought I was using you, then why did you let me do it?”

 

Marik watched, transfixed, as a scarcely recognizable pink hue made its way across Bakura's cheeks. The albino diverted his eyes from Marik's face and tried to stare at anything but the one he loved. Marik was confused at the display of sudden embarrassment.

 

“I let you do it…because I needed you...” Bakura confessed in a very low voice “I-I….You and I…I've never….since you left…I never…you know…”

 

Marik was watching Bakura's each and every reaction carefully, hoping and praying that what he heard was true. So it was true! Bakura loved him! Only him!!! Never another!

 

“You know…slept with another person…And so I thought, why not? I know you don't love me, anyway, so…”

 

Marik sighed deeply and leaned in to press his forehead against Bakura's, watching the red eyes skim over his own in doubt and distant wonder.

 

“Everything is the same as before…” Marik simply stated, not knowing a better way to express his feelings. Maybe Bakura would understand…”Nothing has changed between us. I just don't have my memories…”

 

At this, Marik averted his gaze and sighed dejectedly, but was soon comforted by the now warm and absolutely glowing presence beside him.

 

“It doesn't matter” Bakura whispered hoarsely, wrapping his arms around Marik's torso and resting his head against Marik's chest. Marik was left aghast at the sudden change in behavior. One minute Bakura was depressed, and now, after he had heard Marik's words…he was positively radiating happiness. Well, he probably got the point…

 

“All that matters is that you're here now.” Bakura pressed on, smiling giddily against Marik's skin “I don't care about anything else…”

 

And then, it just happened. Marik's eternally suppressed feelings broke out, and his tied tongue finally started functioning. It was a great experience; letting all your problems float away and lighten your chest…

 

“You know…I don't really know why I got crazy. All I know is that it felt horrible.”

 

Marik strangely awaited for some kind of reaction about the change of subject, but Bakura kept quiet. Marik could still feel the smile on the albino's face, though, so he took it as a good sign and continued. Who would have known? The `confession' actually came as a natural thing….

 

“The first thing I remember is a scorpion. That's the first thing I remember in my entire life. I remember that slimy, red little thing…I'm sure it was a scorpion, coz I remember it stung me. I remember I started shouting and crying, and then it's all a bit hazy…but someone came and helped me out- I think it was Rishid… ”

 

“Rishid?” Bakura asked curiously. “What does he have to do with anything? You met him when you were ten. Is that the first thing you remember?”

 

Marik shook his head immediately “No. That's what YOU remember. That's what happened in real life. I'm telling you what I remember from my fantasy world…that's all I can remember, frankly…”

 

Bakura nodded silently “I see…”

 

“Well…” Marik continued, absently stroking Bakura's long silver hair in the process. Suddenly, confessing felt immensely relieving and not at all hard…but it probably would have been tragic if it wasn't Bakura he was confessing to…

 

That was the first thing I remember. Then there are other things…I remember that when I was a kid, we used to live in Egypt. But not normal Egypt, like in a city or something…we used to live underground…”

 

Bakura raised an eyebrow at that “Underground? What do you mean?”

 

Marik smiled sadly “I know…Strange isn't it... My mother had died when she gave birth to me, so Father, Isis, Rishid and I used to live in this underground dungeon, developed into something like a catacomb… I remember that ancient Egyptian was carved on every wall- only the bedrooms didn't have hieroglyphics. The dungeons were big, it was like an entire village was built down there. Actually, it wasn't only my family that lived there…many other people did.”

 

“I still don't get it. Why did you live underground?” Bakura questioned, making Marik nod in understanding of his confusion.

 

“It's kind of complicated, you have to listen to the whole story. It all starts in ancient Egypt. There was supposedly a Pharaoh, who lived around 5000 BC. Around the time he reigned in Memphis (1), an unknown evil seemed to appear somewhere in the south. Slowly, rumors of unspoken evil started to sprout around the Pharaoh's kingdom, and the man was forced to placate his civilians. It all went relatively well, until riots broke out in Egypt. Wanting to know what bothered his people, the Pharaoh sent his men to investigate. When the Pharaoh's messengers came back, they brought a person with them. He was a craftsman, one of those people who made jewelry and other ornaments. When the man was brought to the king, he was thrashing around wildly, as though cursed. Not knowing what to do, and assuming the man had simply turned mad, the Pharaoh locked him in the palace dungeons. During the next few months, more that a thousand Egyptians were plagued by this sudden insanity. Pharaoh didn't know what to do anymore, he tried to find a way to heal the people, but everything resulted to failure. Until one day, his trusty advisor came to him, and suggested that the Pharaoh pays tribute to the Gods, for they were probably angered with Egypt.

 

Thinking that placating the Gods was his only chance to regain a peaceful kingdom, the Pharaoh visited the temple of Amun Ra- the God of the Sun- and preyed for forgiveness and redemption. And that was when the Pharaoh's High Priest, Seth, appeared. He was dragging a girl with him- an unconscious white haired girl. The Priest took out his golden rod and went to stand in front of the temple altar. And then, before the Pharaoh's very eyes, he cast some ancient spell on the woman with his rod. The Pharaoh saw something like a dark, disgusting mist flow out of the girl's body and she was thrashing around like mad. Finally, when the dark fog dissolved, the girl was lying unconscious on the floor, her breathing now reduced to a slow, steady pace. After he asked his High Priest, the Pharaoh finally learned the source of the madness of his people. Strange, dark souls came up from the underworld and took over peoples' bodies…that's why people turned crazy! Only ancient spells could be used to extract these beings from inside people and destroy them. And so, with the help of his loyal six Priests, the Pharaoh constructed seven sacred golden items- six for his Priests and one for himself. They were the Millennium Ankh, the Tauk, the Scales, the Ring, the Eye, the Rod, and the Puzzle…So Pharaoh used these items to lure the dark monsters out of people's bodies. Unfortunately though, the darkness had reached a dangerous peak- it had to be stopped before it destroyed the world. So the King stayed true to his holy mission, and used all his might to seal the Shadows of Darkness in another dimension- the Shadow Realm. But all the Pharaoh's powers were still not enough, and he had to find another source of energy- a more powerful one.

 

Thus, he decided to sacrifice his soul. If he forced his own soul out of his body by the powers of his Millennium Puzzle, he could use the energy to forever seal the monsters away from Earth. And so he did it. He killed himself, and locked his soul in the Millennium Puzzle. Wanting to make sure his soul would never be restored, he trusted his favorite and most loyal servant, Nevdat, to smash the puzzle and throw the pieces into the Nile, so that they would be lost forever and his soul would never be brought back along with the shadow monsters. But when the High Priest Seth discovered Nevdat's secret vow, he cursed the servant and forced him to surrender the Millennium Puzzle. Seth was eternally obsessed with the King, and was broken to pieces when he discovered the one he loved had secretly killed himself to save Egypt.

 

Seth would not allow his beloved to be cast eternally into oblivion, but he also knew he could not bring the Pharaoh back, for that would also mean the return of the shadow monsters. Deciding on a desperate course of action, now Pharaoh Seth kept the Millennium Puzzle wit him always. Since he didn't want to anger the Gods by holding onto such a cursed item, he decided on a final course of action.

 

He would bring his beloved back to life for sure, he would just not do it at this time or age. Secretly fleeing in the temple of Horus, Seth used his Millennium Rod to channel the power of God, and finally placed a curse on the Millennium Puzzle. The Puzzle would break, never to be fixed again. Only one man would be able to rebuild the Millennium Puzzle- the Chosen One. When the chosen one finally completed the Puzzle, the old Pharaoh's soul would be restored, only to merge with that of the Chosen One. Seth knew that the Pharaoh's soul would be lost and without memories, so he used the power of the Gods to seal his beloved's memory into a stone tablet. Only a special combination could open that secret tablet, and Seth was sure to define what it was.

 

Seth didn't even care about the dark consequences of resurrecting the Pharaoh's soul in the future. He didn't care about the dark shadow monsters…all he cared about was getting his loved one back. When his curse on the Puzzle had been completed, he performed one last spell. He made sure that all current possessors of Millennium Items would one day be reborn in the future, to re-meet with the old Pharaoh in his reincarnated life.

 

Seth knew what he was doing. He was practically selling his soul to the devil for a chance to gain a life with his loved one. Lastly, Seth took one final action. He swore the old Pharaoh's most loyal servant, Nevdat, into secrecy, and then he told the tale of how everyone would be reincarnated in the future. Telling Nevdat that he had to repay his debt to the old Pharaoh, he instructed Nevdat to turn around.”

 

Marik paused ominously at this point, turning away from Bakura and burying his head in both hands. “And then, Seth ripped off Nevdat's shirt… and slowly carved hieroglyphics on Nevdat's back… with that Golden god-forsaken Rod of his. And when he was finished, he laughed and nodded in approval, for on Nevdat's back was now written the secret of how to unseal the Pharaoh's memory.. Nevdat was the one cursed to carry the secret on his back, and he was burdened to carry it until the old Pharaoh would awaken and come back to claim his memory. And suddenly, the poor servant found himself sworn to silence and obedience against the Gpds. He was to take his family and a few trusty men, and descend in the deepest, most desolate catacombs of Egypt, where he would see to survive until the Pharaoh came back and he would guard the Nameless Pharaoh's tomb with his life. He would pass the dark secret on each and every of his descendants, carving the words on ten-year old children's backs and teaching them the ways of the ancient Pharaohs. That was what he was supposed to do, in order to repay his debt to the lost lord. Seth had smashed the puzzle to pieces and locked it in a golden chest. When he had carved the plaque that would be able to unseal the Pharaoh's memory, Seth gave his Golden Rod to Nevdat. He forced another High Priestess to surrender her Millennium Tauk to Nevdat, but couldn't find the chance to take more Millennium items. When the new Pharaoh had made sure Nevdat was buried deep in the dungeons of Memphis, he walked into the old Pharaoh's room- which was now his, and grabbed the old Pharaoh's pointy hair-comb. He killed himself soon after, crying out his lover's name before he plunged the haircomb in his temple…”

 

Marik paused for a while, turning to glance at Bakura's desolate, sorrowful face.

 

“It must be great….to die that way…” the albino finally mused, making the blonde Egyptian stare at him in wonder.

 

“You think so?” he asked finally. “Suicide is considered weakness and sin.”

 

Bakura turned to look at him warily, his bloody orbs swirling in passion “At least he did everything he could…and he shouted the old Pharaoh's name until the last second. That has to mean something.”

 

Marik just stayed numb, thinking over the sad story again and again. He had thought about it many times, and could never figure the reason why someone would give up his life for not having someone else…Until today. Today, Marik understood. Today, it made perfect sense.

 

He tried to forget about the sudden surge of love he felt towards Bakura, and continued with his story. “Unlike the other kings of his dynasty, that old Pharaoh had not been charted in Egyptian history. He had simply vanished from every file, every chart, every documentation….he had deleted himself from existence. Seth had always made sure to erase all files and charts about that Nameless Pharaoh, so no one could discover where Navdat was hiding and what he was doing. And so, the years went by, Navdat keeping his loyalty to his King and passing that loyalty down to his clan.”

 

The next words came with a sudden bitterness from Marik's part. “As you can imagine, every male child that was born in the clan was to become the next leader of the Pharaoh's `Tomb Keepers'…Since the Nameless Pharaoh's body had been buried somewhere close to those dungeons, we could only assume that Seth had also meant for us to guard the territory around the Pharaoh's grave. Never mind, as I was saying, all male children were to be taught how to write and read ancient Egyptian as an everyday language. English had also been a choice in modern years, since we Tomb Keepers had to occasionally bargain with the outside world for food and water- always keeping our identity secret, of course. The male heir of leadership was taught Egyptian, Basic Mathematics and Geometry, and of course, Mythology. Six hours of the day were devoted solely to preying and worshipping the Nameless Pharaoh, whilst another two was just learning the ancient tale of Seth.”

 

A very annoyed tone came into Marik's voice.

 

“Naturally! How could we not know all about the lovesick Seth and the way he locked us all in there just for his sweetheart to come back…”

 

Bakura just stayed silent and tried not tot disturb Marik's evident resentment. “At the age of ten, the son of the clan leader had to undergo a ritual, to prove his loyalty to the Pharaoh. It was the ritual to carve the Pharaoh's secrets on one's back. Your own Father had to do it to you….”

 

Bakura raised his head and supported his body from the elbows in order to gaze straight into his lover's face. The bloody eyes could sense Marik was getting more and more miserable by the second.

 

“As for me…I was destined to be the son of the leader. I was DESTINED to become the leader…I was DESTINED to be the `KING OF SLAVES'…the leader of a pathetic bunch of people who didn't even know what a television was in 2000! I was DESTINED to study Ancient Egyptian history from the age of five, and I was DESTINED to spend my entire childhood praying for the safety of some dead Pharaoh…”

 

Marik's soft motion of stroking Bakura's silver hair paused suddenly, and the albino leaned in care fully , to hear Marik's next low words.

 

“At least Father always said it was my destiny…” the blonde wrapped an shaking arm around Bakura's body “And Chichi-ue is always right…But I never wanted to do it! I didn't consider it an honor to have a disgusting deformation scorched on your back! You know what I wanted, Bakura? I wanted to be free! Away from the dungeons! Away from the old stench of the catacomb air!! I didn't want to be in that awful heat anymore! I wanted to see the sun, and taste what people called whine, and hear what people called music! No more praying…no more freaking Pharaohs…no more DESTINY…”

 

Bakura slowly ran a gentle hand over Marik's cheek and pushed some loose blonde strands behind Marik's ear, absently urging his friend to continue.

 

“Rishid and Isis always lived with me, but they never seemed to have these kind of problems. We were all like siblings, and Rishid was always like a true brother to me- I would never hurt him…”

 

At this Bakura raised an eyebrow, unnoticed by Marik of course.

 

“Actually, Rishid always seemed to take the `Tomb-Keepers' `mission' to heart! He would have loved being the son of the `chief' in my place. And I would have loved it if that beast wasn't my Father…You have no idea, Bakura….You have no idea…the screams I'd hear at night…And then, he'd come to my chamber, and lull me to sleep with that same, monotonous oath- the oath of the tomb-keepers. As I went to sleep every night, I could hear women screaming in the distance…and I knew that my sister was one of them… Until he came to my study one day while carrying something with him- a knife. Reflexively, I got frightened. I tried to back off, but he didn't follow me.

 

Instead, he reached out his left hand and slit it open with the knife…”

 

At this, Bakura's eyes widened. He paused his caresses and simply stared at Marik, aghast.

 

“When I tried to look away from the blood, he forced me to look at it. When I closed my eyes, he slapped me. When I shouted, he kicked me. He told me I should get used to the blood, cause I would be seeing more of it soon enough. When I finally tried to look away, he shoved his bloody arm in my face…and ….”

 

Bakura had stopped breathing. He was only listening.

 

“…he…he forced me to…drink the blood. He made me drink it. All of it.” Marik looked away; suddenly very ashamed of himself. “I couldn't fight back. Honestly, I couldn't. I tried to gag everything out, but he only beat me worse. And when I finally drank `enough', he quickly bandaged his arm. I swear I was screaming and writhing by then, but he paid no heed. I remember…he kicked me…and I was on my knees. And then he…he forced me…”

 

Marik scrunched up his face in utter disgust at the memory. Bakura's grip had tightened considerably too.

 

“He what, Marik?” the albino asked in a hoarse whisper.

 

“He made me…he beat me into licking all the blood that had dripped on the floor. And I did it…I licked it all off the floor…like the disgusting coward I am.”

 

Bakura's jaw was hanging open, and when Marik saw it, he gave a harsh chuckle.

 

“Don't get too surprised. There has been worse.”

 

“Worse?” Marik watched as the soft white hairs on Bakura's hands stood on end.

 

“When I was ten, I went through the `ritual'…turns out he had been crying to prepare me for the sight of blood on my back…oh well…I remember how he did it. So slowly…so deliberately painfully. He made sure to muffle my screams with a gag, of course. I remember…as he drove the burning blade on my back…all I could hear was the screams…the screams of women…and that damned oath I heard every night. Until I finally understood…I was standing in the middle of a circle. Men all around us were chanting the oath…and from a distance, Isis was screaming. She was screaming…just like every night…she screamed at the sight of my torture…”

 

Bakura swallowed and tried to moisten his suddenly very dry throat. “All of these are memories…from your hallucinations?”

 

Marik smiled miserably “I guess. It feels as though they are real memories though…”

 

“What happened after that?” Bakura questioned, probably not sure whether he really wanted to know or not.

 

Marik sighed. “That's when what my sister always liked to call `The Ishtar Tragedy' begins. About a year after that ritual of my `initiation' as the official heir to the leadership of the clan, my curiosity had grown to an outrageous level. I wanted out of that place, NOW. I needed to get away from my Father, if only just for a moment. I just HAD to get away. I wanted to see the outside world! I wanted to learn!

 

I went to my sister for help, but she couldn't do anything. When Rishid heard our predicament, he offered to stay in the catacombs and pretend he was tending to me while I was ill, so Father wouldn't suspect anything. Meanwhile, Sister and I would go outside for the first time- in the land of the sun! We thanked Rishid for his help and quickly found our way to the trap-door exit. I was suddenly afraid to go outside, but I couldn't help it. I had to go.”

 

“It was only one hour I spent outside. One hour. But it was the best hour of my whole life…I saw new things for the first time! I first saw a motorcycle!! Oh…I really wanted one of those…You know, I saw one of those TV motocross races…I was just a kid! A kid who had never watched TV in his eleven years of age, or seen one of those drop-dead bike contraptions…But before I knew it…We had to go back. Back to the dungeons. Back to Father. Back to our devotion to the Pharaoh…Suddenly, all I wanted was one of those bikes, you know? Just so I could be free…and go wherever I want…in the lands of the sun…and fresh air…and smiling people…”

 

“Only when we re-entered the catacombs did we notice the old trap that had been set on the door. When we had opened the door before, the trap had warned Father that someone was out…Sister understood faster that I did. She ran to Father's chambers. I tried to follow, but I couldn't understand what was happening…All I knew was that Rishid was in trouble…

 

When we reached Father's room, I only saw red. Rishid was splayed on the floor, covered in blood. His back was burned by whips and his legs had been bruised and stabbed in various places. I shouted his name then, but it was too late. He was out of it. Father was ecstatic when he saw me, telling me that punishment was coming for me later. He called Rishid an abomination and a disgrace and continued to hit him…I called Rishid's name again....Father turned back to me…he tried to whip me…”

 

Marik paused, and sighed. This was the point were `Yami Marik' came into the story, right? Yami Marik…he had accepted that Yami Marik didn't exist, though…So that could only lead to one thing…

 

Marik sighed, and watched Bakura's thunderstruck expression out of the corner of his eye.

 

“…But I grabbed the whip before it could hit me. Father was startled…he wasn't expecting it. He tried to stop me as I reached for the ancient Millennium Rod that was left aside, but I was too fast. I grabbed it…and immediately I felt power surge through me. The Rod wasn't pushing me away- it responded to me, accepted me. I was in total delirium…watching all the blood surge from Rishid's body…I…I didn't know what I was doing…I used the ancient magic to pin my Father to the wall. When Isis tried to stop me, I immobilized her too, with magic. And then…then…”

 

Marik gave out a shaky breath, still trying to come to terms with what he was saying. Bakura clutched at the blonde's shoulder in reassurance.

 

“Then…I removed the lid from the sharp end of the Millennium Rod…”

 

Marik abruptly turned to Bakura, and said it as fast as he could “And I killed him. My own Father.”

 

Bakura didn't even blink. He just sat there, breathing calmly, his eyes having adopted a tinge of sorrow. He nodded slowly in apprehension.

 

Marik was confused. Wasn't Bakura supposed to hate him now? Now that he had finally accepted his darkest secret, that it was in fact HE who had always wanted to kill his own Father….not some `Yami Marik'…

 

“D-Don't you hate me?” Marik demanded shakily. Bakura tilted his head to the side.

 

“Why should I hate you?” Bakura inquired calmly, driving Marik insane.

 

“I killed my own Father!! I'm a monster! ” it came out a bit more hysterical and frantic than Marik had initially meant it to sound. But Bakura's response was unexpected yet again.

 

The boy crawled over his friend's body, softly brushing against the blonde. Marik was thunderstruck, and simply observed Bakura's soothing ministrations.

 

The Egyptian was having an internal dilemma. Wasn't he worthy of death and punishment? How could someone as normal and logical and calm as Bakura love HIM? He was so…murderous…and Bakura was so…different…How? Why?

 

“You're not a monster, Marik…You never REALLY killed your father- he died of cancer. It was all one huge hallucination that you made up in order to take the pleasure of killing him yourself. I think it's logical….after everything he's done to you…You see, in real life…he also was the abusive type.”

 

Marik's eye twitched “How do you know?”

 

Bakura smirked and gave a small bite to Marik's sternum “You used to tell me all kinds of stuff…sometimes, when you got really pissed, you'd always rant about how people reminded you of your father…and when you saw me get hurt, you'd always run and help me bandage the wound, saying that you didn't want to be like your dad…”

 

Marik nodded slowly, wishing yet again he could regain his real memories back, and leave all visions and insanity behind. It just wasn't fair that he had had such a wonderful life and didn't remember it…

 

“Thanks…” he finally told Bakura “I…I never thought of it like that…I always thought it was a sin to want your father dead…Even though he hurt you…” Marik held a tinge of guilt in his voice.

 

Bakura raised his eyes to look deep into Marik's crystal orbs “The only one who has sinned is your Father. He's the one who drove you insane. He's worth death in your dreams. At least that's what I always used to think when I heard you tell me stories…”

 

Marik nodded lightly. That really was a new point of view to the story. No guilt. No guilt about hating your abusive parent. No guilt about hating the one person who made your life hell both in hallucinations and in real life. No…guilt…No pent up feelings…No Yami Marik.

 

Marik allowed a small smile to grace his lips, as he sensed Bakura's gentle nipping his earlobe. No guilt. No reason to feel bad about hating his bastard of a dead Father.

 

HA! DEAD father! BASTARD, DEAD father!! Not Father! Not GREAT, RESPECTFUL Father!! Just a screwed up, abusive bastard!! He was a bastard! He was!!! And for once, Marik felt happy to hate his father. After all, since Bakura had not rejected his dark feelings, why should he be afraid of himself? Why should there be a Yami Marik? Now he had finally come to terms with his feelings: he hated his Father. And it was okay.

 

If Bakura also thought so, then the Father probably did deserve to be murdered by his own son in hallucinations! If Bakura also thought so, than everything was okay!

 

Unconsciously, Marik raised his arms to squish the skinny figure further against his body. He felt Bakura let out a deep, soft purr of satisfaction, and immediately the blonde felt even more excited.

 

“Thanks `babe'…” Marik slowly said, as he nuzzled his face in Bakura's neck.

 

“You're welcome…” Bakura started, and ran a cool digit down the side of the Egyptian's ribs. Marik shivered openly from the touch, and Bakura snorted pointedly.

 

“That's always been your weak spot…” Bakura commented lightly, making Marik huff somewhat indignantly.

 

“No fair. You know everything, I know nothing.” He dryly teased, making Bakura smirk again somewhat dazedly.

 

“Damn right, I know everything. Even that little mole you have on the inside of your left thigh…”

 

Marik's eyes widened considerably, as he stared at the silver head buried in his neck. “How did you…? I don't remember…”

 

But then, as Bakura's red whirlpools swirled passionately at him, he understood at once. Sometimes, he did tend to forget that he and Bakura had been lovers before. Serious lovers. He wasn't even sure he could imagine the level of intimacy and dependence they felt about each other.

 

The mere thought that he was with someone who could read him like an open book and had even memorized different parts of his body only served to excite him in a rather frightening way.

 

“So…how about it? Will you tell me where I come in the story, or what?”

 

Marik groaned, as he was reminded of the continuation he had to narrate. Oh well…he had better get started.

 

The sooner he finished speaking, the more time they'd have left!

 

 

 

(1): Memphis: the ancient capital of Northern Egypt. A city built near the Nile.

 

So how about it, guys? I'm not sure if it's good or not, but it's the best I could thing of. The next chapter is the continuation of Marik's tale, where Bakura finds about about `Yami Bakura' and the Pharaoh.

 

PLEASE REVIEW!!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!! I'M SO ANXIOUS!!!