Yes, I know. It's been a million years right? Do I need to keep apologizing? Because you all know damn well that it's going to happen again...but here's some good news—It can only happen one more time. Yes, the next chapter is going to be my last. I'm really upset that this story is coming to an end, for it was most certainly my favorite to write. Ah, I remember some weeks that this story was all I thought about. When I got bored in Trig. class, out came my "Evil One" notes. I have pages upon pages of notes for this story. I must say it has to be my most planned out story, yet at the same time, my most random story. Some of the chapters that are in here were thought up at 2 am, but hey, I love the romanticism that comes along with spontaneity. Yes, I am a hopeless romantic, though on occasion I tend to catch myself having some realist thoughts, seeing something splendid in something humble. But now I'm just rambling. Consider yourselves lucky. I was going to make this the last chapter but I decided to split it up so that it wouldn't be so damn long. You'll notice that this is already an ungodly long chapter as is...I decided to spare you for once...So, enjoy. Oh, and just to refresh your memory, the last time we left off, Malik had been stabbed by Jounouchi who in turn met with an untimely end and Mariku and Bakura were in the tavern and somebody just showed up at the door...

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Chapter 25

Decadence

The crowd had long since dispersed and Ra's chariot had fully sunk below the earth before anyone took notice of the little white haired boy that stood on the platform, tied tightly to the pole. A few of the guards that remained behind had finally decided to take pity and untie him. Not knowing what to do with him, they had settled on taking him back from where he came from; the dungeon. Yet, as they led him back to the palace, they realized that he was in such a state, he probably wouldn't even make it through the night. It was so bad, that half way to the palace one of the guards had to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way. Ryou was burning to the touch, some of his wounds from the previous night looked to be infected. There was no way that any of them, in good conscious, would be able to take him back to the dungeon and leave him there to suffer.

The guards glanced at each other, unsure of what to do. If they took him back to the dungeon, then he would surely die. Did Malik want his slave dead? Did it really matter now that Malik was going to die? None of them were really sure. After all, if Malik had wanted him dead, then he wouldn't have missed earlier. Yes, the guards knew that Malik had missed intentionally. That was obvious; maybe not to everybody; but to the men who had been in the service of Malik ever since he had risen to power, it was easy to tell that Malik had aimed too high. Never in all of their years had they ever witnessed their Pharaoh miss...ever. Anything Malik had ever aimed for never even knew what hit them, animals and people alike. Yet, Malik had missed...this time he had purposely missed. At that moment the guard that was carrying Ryou knew that he was holding precious cargo in his arms. It was then that they realized, this boy could not die, Malik did not want this boy dead. Of that, they were certain.

But what could they do? All of the doctors in the palace were no doubt crowded around the Pharaoh's bed doing what they could to bring him out of the grasp of the underworld. There would be no one to save this boy. The guard had made up his mind. He was going to do what he could to keep this boy alive long enough to find a doctor, and then, his fate rested in the hands of the Gods.

Imsety knew little to nothing about healing. He was a warrior, and from the time he was old enough to wield a sword, that was all he knew. Yet that did not stop him from trying his best. Not knowing where else to go, Imsety had brought the pale skinned boy to his own room in the wing of the castle known as the soldiers' quarters. It was a part of the palace that was adjacent to the Pharaoh's chambers so as to provide easy access incase of an emergency. Again he dipped the rag into the water and brought it to Ryou's forehead, dabbing it gently against the boy's heated skin. From down the hall Imsety could hear all the commotion coming from the Pharaoh's room, but he could also hear the Pharaoh's horrid cries. He was screaming with such intensity that his voice resonated through the halls and carried all the way to Imsety's room. The Pharaoh's unsettling wails went on all through the night, and occasionally Imsety could hear him cry out someone's name, clear as day it came, all night. Ryou, he would cry, and Imsety would continue on, doing what he could to bring comfort to the boy he had taken under his wing, hardly able to help but wonder if it was this boy that the Pharaoh was so desperately calling out for.

0 0 0

The doctors had done everything in their power to try and get near the Pharaoh in order to administer the proper medications, but Malik just wouldn't have it. They ran about the room frantically trying to sedate Malik so that he could receive medical attention. In his state of delirium he didn't even realize that he was injured, let alone that his body was literally cooking itself with how high his fever had soared. What's worse was that he had risen from the bed and stumbled blindly over to the wall, hysterically waving his left arm at them while clutching his bleeding chest with his right hand. Every move that he made sent a searing pain throughout his body, but that didn't matter to him. He couldn't even remember how he had gotten this way. All he knew was that Ryou was in danger, and that was all that mattered to him.

'No!' His mind screamed. 'Find Ryou!' He didn't need help; it was Ryou who was injured, why couldn't they see that? He had been trying to tell them all night! Slowly the doctors inched their way in, closing in around him. 'No...' They needed to get to Ryou!

"No!" Malik cried. "Leave me be!" He fell back against the wall, his bare chest glistened with sweat as he still clung inadvertently to his wound; his chest heaved up and down violently, desperately trying to force air into his lungs. Each word that he spoke made him weaker. He could feel his legs give out from under him, and he slid against the wall until he rested on the floor. 'Ryou! Find Ryou! Don't worry about me!' He wanted to shout all of that, but he hadn't the strength. Malik was becoming so frustrated with himself. He was the Pharaoh damn it! Why did he not have the power? Why were they not listening to his orders? No matter how many times he screamed at them, they still did not obey. 'Treacherous ingrates! They will pay for this severely...' Again Malik lashed out with his hand, but he found that he was becoming too weak for it to make any difference.

Slowly the doctors backed away. Gravely, the leading physician walked over to Malik's right hand man, desperate to find another solution. "Litho, we need to do something!" He cursed under his breath. "If his Highness continues on with this he will surely kill himself! His fever has shot through the roof, and there's no absolute way to tell, but we believe that the knife may have pierced his heart." The doctor was caught off guard when yet again Malik cried out a name. The same name he had been screaming all night.

"Ryou!" Malik heaved, he had not the strength in him to yell it again, or he would have.

Slowly the doctor directed his attention back to Litho, who looked highly distraught by seeing his king like this.

"Take me to this Ryou." The doctor growled.

Litho nodded his head. Lucky for him he had lagged behind earlier that night and had seen the guard who had taken the boy down from the platform. He had a pretty good idea of where Ryou was...

0 0 0

After a few minutes of searching and asking a couple of soldiers, Litho, along with the doctor, had managed to find the room of a certain soldier named Imsety. Upon entering, Litho immediately recognized the man as one of the guards that had helped Ryou up to the palace, and when he glanced down at the bed where Imsety was sitting, he found what he was looking for. There was the boy that he had given the Pharaoh so many moons ago. There was something different about him now; aside from the bruises and scars. When Litho had brought the boy here there was an almost wild and untamed innocence about him, a bright light that shone even amidst the darkest of times. As Litho looked at the boy, he noticed that the light had almost completely vanished.

Walking up beside Ryou the doctor suddenly looked as if all hope were lost.

"That's Ryou?" He asked, sounding quite forlorn. He suddenly found himself trying to devise a new plan. With the state that this boy was in, he would be good for nothing.

Slowly Litho nodded his head. From the bed, Imsety stood up, looking rather confused.

"So this boy is Ryou?" He questioned, looking back down into Ryou's face. "I figured as much. So this is who the Pharaoh has been screaming for then?" Imsety could not help but feel slightly hopeful. If this boy truly was Ryou, then Imsety was certain that the doctor was here to save him on Malik's behalf. Surely that was it.

Both Litho and the doctor looked at the boy.

"Yes." The doctor replied quietly; but as he stared at Ryou, he knew that his plans had gone down the drain. "But I don't think my idea will work."

Imsety quirked an eyebrow. "What idea?"

Ignoring Imsety, the doctor turned to Litho and spoke quietly. "Go back into the Pharaoh's room and get my supplies."

With that, Litho bowed his head and turned on his heels, rushing out of the room to do as he was bid.

Imsety had overheard the doctor's words and couldn't help but feel slightly happy.

"You mean to treat this boy?" He asked hopefully. 'I knew it.'

The doctor looked sadly down at Ryou and then back up to Imsety.

"I'll do what I can, because I need him, but only for that reason."

He looked confused. "What could you possibly need from this boy? He's been through enough." Imsety was shocked with how defensive he had sounded. He didn't even know who this boy was, and yet, he couldn't help but feel sympathetic. Merely one glance at the boy and one would know that he didn't deserve any of what had happened to him. All of this just made Imsety hate the Pharaoh even more.

Reluctantly the doctor explained to Imsety why he needed the boy so badly.

"The Pharaoh won't let any of us go near him. And if we can't treat him, he will die. Not that he has much of a chance anyway, but it's better to say we tried then to just sit by and watch it happen. He has been crying out this boy's name all night, and it's a long shot, but I thought that maybe his highness would calm down if we brought Ryou in to help us."

At those words Imsety's face showed exactly how the doctor felt inside.

"You actually think this boy will be willing to help save the Pharaoh? Don't you realize that only hours ago he tried to kill him?" Imsety gave a compassionate glance down to Ryou. If he were the boy he wouldn't help Malik for all the gold in Egypt. Even now Imsety doubted that if he had a choice he'd be able to do it. Guarding Malik is not an option, that's his job. But choosing to save that bastard's life? Well...Imsety would have a few words for that. "He won't do it." He stated definably.

"Yes, well, I'm hoping otherwise." The doctor said moodily as Litho walked in behind him.

"Your supplies, doctor." Litho held them out for the man, and the doctor quickly grabbed them.

"Please, get out of my way." He ordered the guard, placing his bag on the floor by the bed and taking out a few key materials.

"The first thing I'm going to do is wake him up. Then I'll ask him if he is willing to help." The doctor paused as he lifted up a vile and opened it, preparing to give it to Ryou. "And if he refuses, then I am done here."

At that Imsety jumped forward. "You can't just leave! He'll die if you don't help him!"

Glancing behind his shoulder, the doctor could feel his face growing hot.

"Sir, I am the private physician of the Pharaoh. I can not go healing every sick slave that comes waltzing into this palace. I am here on behalf of his Highness, and so, if this boy agrees to help us, then I will see to it that he is physically able. If not, then I wash my hands of it." Ignoring Imsety's protests the doctor turned back around to the task at hand. He put the vile to Ryou's lips and lifted it, causing some of the liquid to go down the boy's throat.

Ryou coughed up some of the medicine that was going down his throat, but there was still enough in his system to wake him in a matter of moments. Ryou's eyes flickered open and suddenly a wave of pain rolled over him. He glanced over to his left, tears starting to form in his eyes, and he noticed three men standing next to him.

"W-who..." He started, finding that his throat was too parched to even speak. Again Ryou coughed, the action shaking his small form violently. He wished that he didn't have to wake up, he liked it better when he was asleep...then he couldn't feel any pain. Then he could dream about better times, which was what he was doing before he felt an ice cold liquid slide down his throat. It quickly snapped him out of his altered state, thrusting him back into reality, and causing him to feel all the pain that he was previously bereft of. Where exactly he was remained a mystery. Last time he was conscious he was still tied to the execution platform. 'Malik...he...' It was slowly coming back to him now. Malik lied to him...he said he was going to set him free and he took him out there to kill him... but he missed, and here he was, where here was, Ryou didn't know, but he felt a soft bed under him, and those three men were still there, staring him down.

"Ryou?" Came a man's voice from above him. Slowly Ryou looked up to see a man holding something in his hand. Ryou nodded slightly to indicate that he had heard the man.

"Ryou, can you sit up if I help you? I need to give you this medicine; it will help take some of the pain away."

Ryou nodded his head, anything to take this horrible pain away. With much effort, the man put his hand carefully behind Ryou's back and helped him up. Eagerly Ryou drank the disgusting liquid, praying that this man was right.

Unlike the other medicine that had so rudely awoken him, this one was hot. It nearly burned his throat as it slowly oozed its way downward. Ryou couldn't help but gag slightly at its repulsive taste.

"Just get it down." The doctor eased, lightly patting Ryou's back. He looked at the pale haired boy and couldn't help but be amazed that he was even still alive. From the looks of it, Ryou hadn't had anything to eat in days, and by the bruises and scratches on his arms and chest the physician could tell what kind of disgusting acts had been inflicted on the boy; and there was no doubt in his mind of who preformed them, but that was beside the point. No matter what Malik had done, it was the doctor's job to see to it that the Pharaoh was healthy and able to rule, despite his personal feelings about the matter at hand.

Once the doctor had seen that Ryou had swallowed all the medicine, he laid the boy back down on the bed and waited for it to take effect. While standing there he turned to Imsety and Litho with a serious look on his face.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave for the sake of the boy. I can't have either of you getting in the way." He spoke sternly. Basically he didn't want anything influencing Ryou's decision; namely, Imsety.

Litho simply bowed and did as he was told, leaving the room without a word. After all, he knew that it was only a matter of time before Ryou would recognize him as the one who gave him to the Pharaoh, and that would most certainly not help the situation. Imsety glared at the doctor for a moment before finally deciding to leave; hoping for Ryou's sake that the boy agreed to help.

Once he had made sure that both men were gone, the doctor walked to the door and quietly shut it before turning back to the bed. He could tell just by looking at him that Ryou was in a lot less pain than when he first came in. The boy's breathing had regulated, and when the doctor sat down on the edge of the bed to feel Ryou's forehead, he could feel his body temperature slowly returning to normal. This was the best medicine that money could buy, used only for the Pharaoh. However, the doctor knew that he was not breaking protocol by using it on Ryou since it would ultimately be for Malik's good anyway.

With watery eyes Ryou looked up as he felt the doctor's hand rest on his forehead. It was as if someone had reached down and pulled him out of the burning pits of the underworld. His body no longer seared with pain, only a dull throb remained, which he was grateful for.

"T-thank you." He muttered, noticing that it was much easier for him to talk now.

"Don't thank me just yet." The doctor replied as he sat Ryou up again and gave him some water. Ryou eagerly drank it, gulping it in so fast that he choked.

"Calm down before you kill yourself!" Again he patted the boy's back and took the rest of the water away.

Ryou complied as his cough slowly began to taper off. He looked at the doctor, with it finally registering in his mind that the man was actually here to help him get better.

"But why?" He questioned quietly.

"Why what?" The doctor asked, looking down at Ryou while he took some ointment out of his bag.

Ryou kept his gaze down, not really feeling worthy enough to look upon his face. This doctor was being too kind to him, Ryou didn't deserve to be healed, he was only a peasant boy. What's the life of a peasant boy matter to a palace doctor? On top of that, why wasn't this physician in Malik's room? But then the thought hit him. 'Oh my gods...' Malik was already dead. Ryou couldn't believe it, yet, at the same time, he knew it had to be true. He had seen where Jounouchi had inserted the blade...That thought only caused Ryou to shudder. 'Jou...' Ryou's eyes began to sting with the appearance of salty tears. There was so much carnage, so many unnecessary deaths. Jou, Shizuka, Bakura...Malik.

With a painful shift, Ryou forced himself to look up at the doctor.

"He's dead." Ryou stated, ignoring the doctor's question. He felt a horrible pain in his chest, like his heart had snapped in two. He was the only one left, when in all reality; he should be the one that was dead.

"Who is?" The doctor questioned while getting some of the ointment onto his palm so that he could spread it over Ryou's chest.

"Ma-T-The Pharaoh." He stammered, realizing that he had almost made a critical mistake by saying Malik's name.

The doctor's expression became somber and at once Ryou knew it to be true. His heart sank, why, he did not know, but he felt pain when he thought about Malik's pitiful life, and that it had to end in such a miserable way.

"He's not dead Ryou. He's dying." The doctor paused, thinking carefully about what he was going to say next. "Ryou, I have something to ask of you. And I suggest you think carefully before you answer."

Ryou looked utterly shocked. Malik...wasn't dead, he was dying...but that was impossible, Ryou saw where the Pharaoh had been stabbed! There was no way a man could survive that! And here this doctor was, healing him, and now he needed to ask him something? What on earth could it possibly be? And if Malik wasn't dead, then why wasn't this doctor trying to save him?

The doctor continued. "Ryou, the Pharaoh...he has only a slight chance of surviving this, but, he's refusing treatment." The doctor paused as suddenly a scream echoed throughout the halls. Ryou jumped as his eyes went wide, but the doctor looked un phased.

Ryou couldn't believe his ears. That was Malik's voice, there was no denying that. But the thing that shocked him the most was what he had heard echoing off the walls. It was his own name...

"Ryou, I need to ask for your help. The Pharaoh will surely die if his is not attended to soon." The doctor could see the shell-shocked expression that came over Ryou's face.

"I...I don't..." Ryou stammered, not truly understanding what the doctor was asking of him. He was still trying to get over the initial shock of hearing his name being shouted by the Pharaoh.

"I need you to help me heal Malik." He stared intensely at Ryou.

Ryou furrowed his brow, looking as if the man had asked him to step into the mouth of a crocodile. It seemed almost absurd that the doctor would ask him to do such a thing. There was no way that Ryou was going to save the life of a man who had both raped him and tried to kill him on several occasions.

"I-I'm sorry...I can't." Ryou stated quietly, remembering that only moments ago, when he assumed Malik to be dead, he felt an ominous sense of pity wash over him. Yet, now that he knew Malik was alive and had the chance to save his life, he realized that he really didn't want Malik to live, let alone to be the one that made sure of it. Ryou could feel his mind spinning in circles. One minute he felt pity for the man, the next he hated him. Malik was becoming way too confusing. But beyond all that, beyond his personal feelings lie those few words that he had spoken so long ago

One of these days you'll get what's coming to you...and you'll see...there will be no one there to help you...

Karma had definitely come back to haunt Malik, but at the time, Ryou had no idea how true his words would be. There was no one to help Malik. They wanted him to help Malik. Ryou could have no part in it.

One of these days you'll get what's coming to you...and you'll see...there will be no one there to help you... I'll be damned if I ever do.

That was that. There was no way that Ryou could ever live with himself if he saved the life of a man who had ruined so many others. His conscious could not bring himself to say yes.

"Ryou," The doctor whispered, "Please help us." He paused. "Look, I'm not saying you have to do it for Malik...but think about Egypt. What would happen if our king died? Malik has no heirs. Egypt would be cast into utter chaos. If you don't do it for Malik, at least do it for Egypt."

Ryou thought about that. The doctor did have a good point. Without Malik Egypt would have no king, then Ma'at would be unbalanced...but...he still couldn't do it. He couldn't possibly. Malik had caused him too much pain, and he had already forgiven him seventy times seven. Morosely, Ryou shook his head. Ma'at or no Ma'at, there was no way that Ryou could agree to this.

The doctor, becoming desperate spoke hastily. "Ryou, what is it that you want? If you help me, I can see to it that you are rewarded amply. What'll it be? Gold? Silk? Diamo-"

"My freedom." Ryou stated quietly. "As soon as the outcome of this is revealed, whether the Pharaoh dies or lives, I want to be set free." Ryou hung his head and spoke softly. "And I don't ever want to see his face again." Saying those words stung at his heart more than he thought they would. Evidently once you fell in love with someone, no matter how they did you wrong, or how hard you tried to forget it, part of that love will linger on forever; much to Ryou's dismay. He wanted to forget everything about Malik. But he knew that was not possible.

The doctor shifted his glance, knowing that that was not his place to give Ryou his freedom. However, desperate times call for desperate measures.

"You have my word. As soon as we're done with him, I'll see to it that you are back where you came from."

Knowing that he was in over his head, Ryou nodded sadly and sat quietly as he allowed the doctor to continue on with whatever he needed to do in order to have him well enough to be able to help the Pharaoh. Plaguing thoughts were running through his mind. If Malik somehow managed to survive this, as soon as he became well he'd go back to his old ways. Ryou had learned the hard way that nothing can change a man who is so deeply immersed in evil. There would probably be hundreds upon hundreds of more innocent deaths...and Ryou was the one who was making it all possible. He was the only one who could save Malik and allow him to continue on with his pathetic existence.

Malik Ishtar you worthless piece of shit...

Oh if only...If only Ryou had enough backbone to stick to his words.

But he didn't. He was a worthless, spineless, pathetic excuse for a human who didn't amount to anything. He was nothing without Bakura. All that was left for him to do now was to wither away into the dust from whence he came. After all, with Bakura gone, Ryou couldn't go back to Karnak to live alone. He had no place to go. Malik's men had burned down their house.

"Ryou?"

"Hm?" Ryou snapped his head up and realized that the doctor was standing next to the bed cleaning up his medicines.

"I believe we're done. This medicine should sustain you for a while. But I'll need to check up on you every so often." The doctor closed his bag.

"Thank you." Ryou managed to say. Right now, he was in such a melancholy state that he really didn't care if the medicine wore off. Maybe then he could at last die and not have to worry about what he was going to do for the rest of his pathetic life. It was almost as if he had acquired an immunity to the pain.

"Ryou, I'm going to have to take you to Malik now. There's no time to waste."

"Right." Ryou nodded as he carefully stood from the bed, now realizing that the pain had not really gone away.

0 0 0

Mariku turned the knob and slowly pulled the door open. With a grin on his face he spoke.

"It's about damn time you got here."

"I was about to say the same." The cloaked man replied as he stepped into the room. Glancing beyond Mariku, the man noticed the white haired tomb robber sitting up on the bed and laughed. "You just refuse to die, don't you?" He eyed the boy with an uncivil distain. He was, of course, above the company which was present; a mere peasant boy and a fugitive of the law...how unbecoming for a man of his stature. Not to mention the state of the room that was to be his lodgings for a time; simply dreadful. He glanced over the accommodations with an airy sort of disgust. It was a far cry away from his lavish palace home.

Bakura merely growled in response to the man's insensitive question as he narrowed his chocolate eyes. Who the hell was this? Mariku looked back at Bakura and decided to fill him in...Somewhat...

"Bakura, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Yami. Yami, this is Bakura." He spoke, while motioning for Yami to come. Yami lowered his hood and then removed his cloak and handed it to Mariku as he stepped closer to Bakura. Mariku scowled as he shut the door, throwing the cloak to the ground.

"I'm not your bitch Yami. Let me make that very clear."

Yami could only chuckle in response as he ignored his cousin's comment and turned his attention back to Bakura.

"I've seen you around." Yami spoke to him, looking down upon him as if his appearance were that of an offensive insect. "You've let Malik walk all over you." Mariku shot a nervous glance at Yami as he walked closer to the two boys.

Bakura sneered. "You don't know anything." He crossed his arms and looked away.

"Oh, but I do." Yami insisted. "After all, I spend all day in that pala- OW!" Yami hissed when he felt Mariku's foot come crashing down on his own.

"Oops. I'm sorry. Me and my big feet." Mariku apologized, and when Bakura wasn't looking he shot an ominous glair towards Yami.

Bakura frowned at them. "What the hell is going on here?"

Yami winced slightly at the throbbing pain in his foot before he quickly understood Mariku's drift.

"Everybody knows, Bakura. The story of you and your little lover...Ryou." Yami said quietly, as Mariku nodded in agreement.

"It's true." He chimed in.

"Yea, well, they're soon gonna get a new chapter to that story. They're gonna find out that their Pharaoh is dead and that Ryou and I are nowhere to be found."

"Yes, and I wish you the best of luck with that." Mariku replied hurriedly. There were a few things that needed to be taken care of now that Yami had arrived. "Yami, can you come help me with a few more pieces of luggage that are still downstairs?" He asked.

Yami grunted. "I'm not your bitch either, my dear cousin. I refuse to stoop to the level of those whom I share company with."

Mariku made a fist and gave Yami the glair of death as he outstretched his arm and pointed to the door. "Out. Now." Was all he needed to say for Yami to comply.

"Right away master." Yami said callously, rolling his eyes as he stepped out of the room, but not before making a rude gesture with his finger.

Mariku turned back to Bakura and forced a smile. "This should only take a minute." And with that he too left the room and shut the door behind him while muttering insults about Yami's painfully inflated ego and his prideful ways.

Bakura had every reason to feel suspicious. He knew neither one of these boys, and yet, the blonde one, called Mariku, saved his life. Bakura had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he did not like the fact that he was not a part of it. Or so he thought.

After making sure that they were far enough away from the door Mariku turned on Yami faster than a Hittite would a Nubian.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" He yelled, while trying to make sure that he didn't get too loud.

Yami could only shrug his shoulders. "I didn't realize that I was doing anything wrong."

Mariku sighed, placing his fingertips on his temples. "You never think you do anything wrong." He muttered while glancing down. Lifting his gaze he spoke, "Look, Bakura can not know that we're related to Malik."

"Well, isn't that kind of obvious? I mean, how many other Egyptians have purple eyes and blonde hair?" Yami asked, pointing to Mariku's oddly colored tresses.

"I've already conquered that obstacle. So I don't need you to come along and blow my cover." Mariku glared. "I am not Malik's brother, and you are not his cousin. We need Bakura's trust, and we most certainly will not get it if he knows that we're related to that bastard. Although I know how much it must pain you to disengage yourself from royalty." He added snidely.

"Whatever you say. You're the brains behind this whole thing. I'm just the good looking one."

"Keep talking and you won't look like anything when I'm done with you." Mariku snapped.

"You know, you're more like your brother than you think." Yami mused, referring to the fact that they both took great pleasure in making empty threats. Unfortunately for Yami, he had forgotten that Mariku's threats weren't quite empty.

"Shut your mouth!" Mariku bellowed, raising his hand and swiping it across Yami's cheek. He stumbled back as his gaze was met with an icy glare.

"You better treat me a little nicer if you want my help." Yami growled, placing a hand to his burning skin. Mariku stepped up to his cousin and wrapped his hands tightly around Yami's arms.

"Don't hand me that. It's not me that needs you. Yami, you're like a fucking leach and you know you wouldn't be able to do shit without me." With that, he released Yami and walked back down the hallway towards the room.

"Yea, well if it weren't for me we would have never gotten hold of Bakura." Yami growled.

Mariku clenched his jaw. He hated admitting that Yami was useful for something...

"You stay out here. I'll call you when I need you." He ordered, giving Yami no further explanation. Mariku opened the door to his room and slammed it behind him, leaving Yami out in the hallway, alone and deeply angered.

However, none of that bothered Mariku. He could treat Yami anyway he wanted and didn't even have to think about worrying. Yami would not leave him. Yami needed him.

"What was that all about?" Bakura asked curiously, noticing that Mariku did not have any bags in his hands. "I thought you needed his help to get the rest of your stuff?" He raised a curious eyebrow, but Mariku was on top of things.

"I have some pretty valuable items that I carry along with me, and I didn't feel the need to bring them into a room with a tomb robber." He replied, casting a playful smirk in Bakura's direction. "So I left them with Yami."

"Wait a minute; you've never even met me before. How'd you know that I was a tomb robber?" Bakura asked skeptically as he narrowed his eyes. This man seemed to know more about him than Bakura would have preferred. Mariku was almost stumped by that question, but his quick thinking brought him out of what could have become a nasty dead end.

"Well, I only assumed that because of where I found you." He shrugged. "It was either that or you killed someone. Lucky guess I suppose."

"Yea, speaking of that, why did you save me in the first place?"

"I dunno," he lied, "It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I'm beginning to think otherwise." Mariku paused for a moment. "You know, you ask too many questions. If I were you I'd just be grateful that I'm still alive, regardless of who saved me." Mariku wasn't really regretting the fact that he saved Bakura, after all, he enjoyed having the boy around as his little something-good-to-look-at play toy.

Bakura realizing that he had just been put in his place, decided to take this opportunity to lie back in the bed, placing his hands behind his head, giving Mariku a nice look at his sculpted chest.

"You're a fucking tease." Mariku snapped, feeling himself drawn unwillingly closer to the gorgeous boy.

"And you're a fucking horny bastard." Bakura retorted.

"Maybe so...but can you blame me?" He asked, sitting on the bed next to the white-haired boy. Yes, it was moments like these that made Mariku glad he rescued the boy. He like to have someone around that he could mess with.

Bakura shrugged and started his reply, but was quickly halted when Mariku abruptly leaned over him, resting one arm on either side of him and brought his lips down upon his own. The boy was not one for subtlety. Bakura didn't appreciate this too much. He didn't like how the tables had turned. He was supposed to be the forceful one; he was supposed to be the one with the raging hormones. Yet, without Ryou, Bakura was nothing. Another had taken control of his body. Someone whom he didn't even know. A dark, yet irresistible stranger. Although he did not like the fact that he was not on top, he couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of their bodies so close together. He closed his eyes and allowed Mariku to kiss him. He was at the mercy of this total stranger.

Mariku carefully ran his hands up Bakura's arms. Gods, what he wouldn't give for this boy to be totally healed. If he had let his hormones take control, there would be no spell that would be able to save Bakura once he was done with him. Mariku could not allow that to happen. Not that he had actual feelings for the boy, but he needed Bakura to serve another purpose. He let his body succumb to the guilty pleasures that every man became a victim of. Lust. Nothing more, nothing less. Simple, pure lust. It was the only thing that he felt towards Bakura. Kissing him at his own leisure, not really caring if Bakura wanted it or not. Caring for someone else's feelings was something that Mariku had long since forgotten how to do. After all, being out in the middle of a deserted ghost town with hardly any human contact didn't really help him to grow in the relations department. But that didn't matter to him. He was satisfied with his lustful feelings; they would be enough to sustain him throughout his life. He didn't need anyone to love or care about; that was simply too much work. Why not just screw them and leave in the morning?

As quickly as he had come on to Bakura, Mariku had forced himself to pull away. He couldn't let himself get too carried away, or he might risk everything that he had worked so hard for thus far.

Bakura sat up slightly, resting his weight on his elbows and gave an awkward glance at Mariku. Mariku glanced back at him for a moment with a confused look on his face before he shook it off and glared at him.

"What are you gawking at?" Mariku asked nastily. "You don't think that I actually enjoyed that, do you?"

"Excuse me?" Bakura yelled, a bit taken. That wasn't something that he was used to hearing; it did happen to be a little bit damaging to his pride. How the hell could Mariku just ask that? "I don't mean to point out the obvious, but, it was you that was on top of me...and I don't recall asking for it."

Mariku smirked. "Yea...I guess you're right."

Without another word Mariku reached for his black bag and went over to the couch. Bakura sat back in amazement, wondering just how this boy could completely dismiss the subject like it was nothing and go on about his business as if it had never occurred in the first place. Silently Mariku pulled the wooden table close to the couch and sat down. Then he began to remove some peculiar objects from the bag. Miniature statues, candles, a wooden bowl, and a few small pouches filled with something.

Bakura watched with an avid curiosity as Mariku began to fill the empty table with statues of the Gods and the other various items that he had pulled out of the sack that he brought along with him.

"You carry this stuff around with you everywhere?" Bakura asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Never know when you might need to do a little magick." He replied, giving Bakura a small smile.

Bakura tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes.

"You're one of them mage people aren't you?" He asked with a hint of skepticism. Most people with magickal abilities were not to be trusted.

"Naah...I just know as much as they do...and then some." He said proudly. "Let's just say that I had a really good teacher."

Bakura crossed his arms as he smiled. With this guy using his magick shit, he would definitely be able to sneak up on Malik and kill him, and the ass would never know what hit him.

Mariku placed four candles on the table and arranged them around the wooden bowl that was in the center. Then he took the four statues and sat them at the edge of the table so that they were facing him. Quickly Mariku snuck a glance over at Bakura and noticed that the boy was watching him fervently. He didn't really like to have company while he was performing a spell, but he saw no other options. He couldn't just kick Bakura out of the room. Heaven forbid that he and Yami start to talk. If that were to happen Mariku knew that he would be ruined. So he simply did his best to ignore the boy and continued on with his business. As long as Bakura stayed quiet and on the bed, there would be no problems.

As Mariku lit the four candles, one for each of the sacred elements, he began to say a small prayer to each of the Gods whose help he was going to need. Then he lit the incense and began his spell.

Bakura watched, mesmerized. He had never seen such a sacred act preformed. This man was invoking the spirits of the Divine Ones right in this very room. Was that even allowed? Whether it was or not, it seemed as though Mariku knew what he was doing, and Bakura was not about to question him.

Grabbing the pitcher of water that Mariku had previously set on the floor, he poured its contents into the wooden bowl and closing his eyes he began the sacred chant.

"Patue, patue. Neter nefer." Bakura listened to the words. He did not understand them, yet somehow he could feel their effects. It was as if a cool, refreshing gust of wind had just swept through the room. It was a familiar feeling...almost like...like when he was tied to the stake, and Ryou appeared in front of him...he was saved by the Gods. Ryou came to him, and breathed new life into him. That was this very feeling. Bakura shuddered as he listened to Mariku's words.

"Yak sab sinuwe arnaat Anpu." He whispered into the dark, calling out the ancient name of Anubis. The dim light from the candles caused eerie shadows to play across his face. Bakura could not tear his eyes away from the magnificent sight. This was most assuredly something that not every Egyptian got to see. Again Mariku called out the name of the jackal-headed God.

"Anpu."

Followed by Thoth.

"Tehuti."

"Ma'at." The spirit of justice and order.

Then finally...Isis

"Aset."

As he said each of their names he sprinkled a different spice into the bowl. Then he picked it up and sloshed it three times clockwise. Magick, to him, had a beautiful precision to it, and he got a rush every time he preformed a spell, even a simple one. This was what he had devoted his life to.

"Show me Malik." He whispered to the water. Slowly the water began to go from a deep ink blue to a crimson red before a clear spot started to form in the middle. It grew out from the center until it covered nearly all of the red liquid.

Bakura, becoming way too curious, began to slide off the bed, wanting to get a glimpse of what the bowl was showing Mariku. But Mariku noticed, and he didn't want Bakura to be seeing anything that he shouldn't.

"Stay where you are." Mariku ordered with a firmness that was not to be argued. Bakura was not about to mess with a man that had this much power and was able to call upon the Gods anytime he pleased; so he sat back down on the bed and waited for Mariku to get this over with. As much as it pained him to be subservient to another, he knew that in this situation, he didn't have a choice.

Mariku stared into the bowl as an image started to form from within.

"Yes." He muttered, smiling to himself. He could see him. He could see the boy who had ruined his life. There he was, his brother, the Pharaoh, who he had not seen for so many years. There he was, sleeping on his bed. So unknowing, so peaceful...but wait.

Upon closer inspection Mariku noticed the excruciating look of pain on Malik's face, and as the image expanded and Mariku could see more of Malik's room, he noticed a small, white haired boy sitting next to the bed with a rag in his hand. What's more, it appeared that Malik had been bleeding because, around his chest was wrapped a white linen bandaged that seemed to have been bled through.

"What on earth happened?" He thought aloud, not really caring if Bakura heard him. 'And who is this boy?' Mariku's eyes went wide as he looked up from the bowl and glanced over at Bakura, and then back down at the bowl.

"So it's true..." He sighed. Well, this did alter his plans a bit, but first, he needed to talk with Yami. Not wanting to risk Bakura seeing anything Mariku dipped his finger into the bowl.

"Ipiniyo." And instantly the image faded, leaving nothing in the bowl but clear, sparkling water.

"W-wait a minute! What's going on? What's true? H-Hey!" Bakura yelled to him. Without so much as a glance back, Mariku left and shut the door behind him, giving Bakura no explanation. As soon as he had immerged from the room he found Yami sitting on the floor in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"What I have just seen disturbs me somewhat, cousin."

Yami slowly lifted his head and glared at Mariku.

"It seems as though our nearest and dearest has had a little accident." He smiled as Yami stood up.

"Oh, how silly of me. I forgot to mention...Malik was stabbed earlier; quite an interesting show really...damn bastard has some will. I thought he'd be dead by now." He mused, gleefully recalling the evening's dramatic events.

"Yes, well, that does alter our plans slightly now doesn't it?" Mariku paused. "But there was a boy with him. He looks like Bakura. He was...well, honestly, to me it looked like he was taking care of him."

Yami nodded. "Ah, yes, that's Ryou. He's Malik's little sl- HE'S WHAT!" Yami shouted when Marku's words finally registered. That was not possible...Ryou would never help Malik! Mariku must have been mistaken. "You did a spell right?" Yami asked.

"Of course."

"Well, it must be wrong. That boy would never help Malik! I swear on my life." Yami said.

"Then I get to kill you, because my magick is never wrong, and I saw that boy sitting next to Malik's bed." Mariku whispered.

"No! Something went wrong!" Yami yelled.

"Pipe down; I don't want to drag Bakura into this. Not yet anyway." Mariku scolded, holding his hand over Yami's mouth to silence him.

Yami grabbed Mariku's arm and pulled his hand away.

"Yes, yes you're right. Bakura mustn't know about Ryou." Yami said in a hushed voice while darting his eyes around as if searching for some invisible answer. This most certainly did alter things...

Mariku's expression changed as he thought about that boy. That was who Bakura was in love with. Which meant that he would only be the third wheel. That sure did put a damper on his fun. But he had to push those thoughts out of his mind. That kind of thinking was going to get him nowhere fast. He didn't have time to let his mind fantasize about a boy that he could never have. Not that he really wanted him anyway. It was just nice to feel the touch of a human after living life alone for so long. Not to worry though, there would be plenty more to come.

"Ok, I'm going to use this opportunity to go and steal the rod. I'm sure Malik won't be missing it anytime soon." Mariku started to walk off but Yami quickly stepped in front of him.

"No! I-I mean, why don't I go? That way, if anyone sees me, it won't arouse suspicion."

Mariku mulled it over. Yami did have a point; Mariku could not risk being seen at the palace. Everyone but Isis and Yami thought he was dead. After a moment Mariku nodded his head. Yami started off quickly down the hallway and Mariku yelled after him. "Yami, get the rod...that's all...do absolutely nothing else. Do I make myself clear?"

Yami nodded before disappearing down the steps.

"Malik has to be well or this will be no fun at all." He whispered quietly to himself before turning to go back into the room to give Bakura the edited version of their plans.

0 0 0

The doctors were relieved that they were finally able to get Malik the help he needed, even if it was a bit unorthodox. When they saw the leading physician walk in with a dirty little slave boy they all but fainted until they found out that this was the boy who the Pharaoh was screaming for.

Malik had fought until the very end, he had absolutely no strength left and that's when it happened. His legs gave way and he fell to the floor beside the bed, his body dripping with sweat. With his hand still clenched to the wound on his chest he slowly lifted his head up. Faintly he could make out the forms of the doctors, slowly backing away from him.

'Finally.' His mind sighed. He didn't want to be smothered by a bunch of no good physicians who wouldn't even listen to him. But then he saw them all turn their heads to the door of his chambers. What were they looking at? Malik too, turned his head and was now looking at the entrance of his room. A huge weight felt as if it had just been lifted off his shoulders as into his vision, came the blurry sight of a little white haired boy standing next to a doctor.

"Ry...o..." Malik could feel the faint traces of a smile form on his lips. 'He's alright...' Malik had stayed conscious only for a moment after that. Then his body relaxed and fell limply to the floor next to his bed, finally ending the struggle that had lasted the better part of the night. He had seen his Ryou alive and well, and that was all that mattered to him.

The night went on and no one in that room thought Malik would even make it to see the sun rise. Yet, the doctors still did everything in their power to ensure that he at least had a chance. Ryou watched from the corner of the room, secretly hoping that Malik would just die as soon as possible so that he could leave. Yet, he mentally kicked himself for thinking like that. No one deserved to die this way...well, maybe Malik did, but that was still no reason for Ryou to wish it upon him. Ryou was a boy of his word. He had promised the doctor that he was going to help him save Malik, and so that was what he was going to do. Whether Malik lived or not, Ryou didn't much care, but he was still going to do all that he could to try and save him, no matter how much he didn't want to. As the night slowly passed by, Malik's situation only worsned. They had stopped the bleeding almost completely now, but they could not undo the damage that came from how much blood he had already lost. The medicine would not lower his temperature; he was dangerously dehydrated and could not keep anything down. He drifted in and out of consciousness as the doctors continued to work on him. Yet, when he was awake it became a lot harder for them to do anything because he would not let them unless he saw Ryou.

Ryou couldn't help but feel some pity towards the man. This had to be an awful way to die. But then Ryou thought about Bakura. This was just the three fold rule coming back to haunt Malik for what he did to Bakura, and he deserved every once of pain that could possibly be inflicted upon a human body. The hours had rolled by and the doctors, realizing that they could do no more for Malik, left the room, leaving his fate at the mercy of the Gods.

Before he left, the doctor that had saved Ryou walked over to him with a damp rag and a bowl of water, asking for one final favor.

"He won't make it..." The doctor started, his voice beginning to falter. "But can you at least stay with him until he dies?" It was more of a humane request than an order, because both of them knew that technically Ryou was free to go since they knew the outcome. Malik was going to die. But, Malik was not dead yet. Ryou looked at the doctor and then glanced over to the bed where Malik was lying, currently unconscious.

The doctor could tell that Ryou was in serious thought. "If he wakes up, he'll be in a lot of pain...I, I just wanted somebody to be there for him to help ease the pain, and he won't let any of us touch him when he's awake." He handed Ryou the rag and the bowl as he saw the boy give a somber nod.

Ryou would want somebody to do the same for him. He...couldn't be totally heartless.

"Thank you, Ryou. You will surely be blessed by the gods." The doctor said quietly before gathering up the rest of his things and walking out of the room, leaving Ryou alone with the dying king. Ryou didn't really know what to do, he wasn't a doctor, and he didn't know how to ease someone's pain. He walked closer to the bed with the rag and bowl in his hands. Sitting the bowl on the nightstand, he dipped the rag into the water and then placed it on Malik's forehead, only to have Malik's body unleash a violent shiver. Startled, Ryou quickly pulled the rag off.

"Dammit!" He scolded himself. "I'll only end up killing him faster." Ryou threw the rag into the bowl of water and sat down on the side of the bed, gazing at Malik's face. The Pharaoh looked peaceful, but Ryou knew that that was only because he was not conscious and could feel no pain. Cautiously Ryou placed his hand on Malik's cheek to feel how bad his temperature really was. The boy was on fire, but Ryou noticed that Malik had stopped sweating, most likely due to his dehydration. Something had to be done to lower Malik's temperature, this much Ryou knew. Again he took the rag and placed it on Malik's forehead. Ryou heard him hiss, but this had to be done. Gently he took the rag and dabbed it all over Malik's face and down his neck, knowing that this was the only thing that the doctor had left him with, and he was going to use it to the best of his abilities. Ryou could feel Malik's body start to shake slightly from the shock of the cold water on his heated skin, but Ryou did his best to ignore it. His only job was to try and comfort Malik as he lay there, dying. How ironic it was. Only a short time ago Ryou had told Malik what he needed to hear, and Ryou had no idea how right he would be.

One of these days you'll get what's coming to you...and you'll see...there will be no one there to help you... I'll be damned if I ever do.

One thing was for sure, Malik most certainly got what was coming to him, and there was no one there to help him. No one except for Ryou that is. The one who swore he'd be damned before he ever helped Malik.

'Then I am damned.' He thought to himself as his own words tormented him. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Malik was supposed to get his just rewards and Ryou was not supposed to be the one comforting him. Ryou was supposed to be far away from here, with Bakura. Shizuka was supposed to be with her brother, and Jounouchi was not supposed to be killed by Malik's guards. As Ryou glanced down, a deep anger surged through him. All of this was caused by this man. This man who was currently dying, and Ryou, even after all that, was sitting here trying to keep him company as he died? No one else had that luxury. Shizuka died alone, Jounouchi died alone...Bakura died alone. Why was Malik so different?

By this point Ryou was so completely disgusted with himself for making that damn promise. It wasn't as though he really wanted to be set free anyway. He'd rather just be dead. After all, where was he going to go? Everyone he knew was dead, his home was destroyed...There was nothing left for him.

Ryou again looked at Malik's face.

"Malik Ishtar...you worthless piece of shit." Ryou growled. It was time for him to suck it up and accept the pitiless humor of the Gods. How many times had it been now that he had suffered for their pleasure? The cruel mockery they had made of him, time and time again. He did not have the ability to save the one he loved, yet, he was the Pharaoh's only hope. The only one that remained by Malik's side in his final hours, holding on to nothing more than an empty promise of freedom which in turn would only imprison him more. What was freedom if he could not be free to be with the one he loved?

Hell. There was no such thing as freedom anymore. Freedom had fled from Egypt as soon as Malik had become Pharaoh. Ryou was just now feeling its effects. But there were other families that had suffered long before. The mother who had her child ripped from her arms. The husband whose wife was murdered right in front of his eyes. Effect after effect all running from its source. All sacrifices for Malik's pleasure. It did seem fitting that Malik be the one to suffer the final effect, his death being the final sacrifice, ending this reign of carnage.

Ryou threw the rag back into the bowl and with his finger moved Malik's blonde bangs from his forehead.

"What on earth caused you to be this evil?" Ryou questioned quietly. He continued to watch Malik's life slip away, counting down the minutes in his head. He let his hand fall from Malik's face and rested it lightly on his heart, being careful not to touch the bandaged wound. There was nothing more than a faint remnant of a heartbeat. Although, Ryou wasn't quite sure if there was ever anything more than that, even when Malik wasn't dying. Surely one with a heart so stone cold and small could not have anything more than the faintest indications of a working heart? Malik's chest rose and fell unsteadily; Ryou could feel Malik's body start to sweat again. Suddenly he felt a hand land on his. Startled, Ryou jumped slightly, and with wide eyes he saw that Malik had managed to lift up his arm enough to rest his hand over Ryou's. Malik's eyes were open slightly; he parted his mouth and struggled to gulp in some air. Ryou didn't know what to do. Was Malik dying? Then Malik gripped Ryou's hand hard and held on as he winced in pain. The only thing that Ryou could do was wet the rag again and place it over Malik's forehead, and so that's what he did. With his free hand he squeezed the excess water out of the rag and folded it over Malik's forehead. It didn't seem to help though. Ryou felt Malik grip his hand tighter, and without thinking Ryou squeezed back.

"Hold on." He whispered quietly. 'Please don't do this to me...'

Malik shut his eyes tightly, and when he opened them he looked right up at Ryou as a few tears rolled down his cheeks. Ryou promised the doctor that he would do everything in his power to comfort Malik, and he was going to stick to that promise. Although, as he gazed into Malik's watery eyes he found himself genuinely wanting to comfort the suffering boy. Ryou placed a gentle hand on Malik's face and wiped the tears away with his thumb, while still clutching onto Malik's other hand. Death, Ryou now realized, did not discriminate. It would take into its dark grasp whomever it so chose; and no medicine, no matter how expensive, would save you once death had you in the palm of its hand.

Ryou at that moment understood that he and Malik were more alike then he would have preferred to believe. Malik was human, though his humanity was hanging on by a thread, human he was none the less. He had hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections and passions just as any other human would. He was fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons. He was subject to the same diseases, and healed by the same means. He had a childhood, with parents and siblings, hopes and dreams. If he were pricked, would he not bleed? If tickled, would he not laugh? If he were wronged...would he not revenge?

Malik had once again closed his eyes, his grip on Ryou's hand had ceased. For a moment, Ryou was sure that Malik was dead, but he soon felt the light thumping against Malik's chest. Ryou sighed and let go of Malik's hand, resting it on the bed as he stood and walked to the door. He needed to get out of this room for a little while. He was becoming so frustrated with himself. Frustrated because he had no choice but to try and save Malik. Frustrated because nothing he did seemed to be easing the pain...It was a confusing mess. He couldn't stand the fact that he was trying to help, but what hurt him even more was the fact that what he was doing wasn't helping. Malik was still suffering; still dying. This room reeked with the smell of death, and Ryou could bear it no more without taking a break. It was all too much for him. He stepped out of the room and exhaled before leaning against the wall. In the midst of all that chaos he couldn't possibly think about his own pain, but now that he had a chance to breathe he felt the dull throb return to his body. Not that it mattered much to him. It seemed as though when he was in pain he was able to take his mind off the things that were torturing him even deeper.

"Looks like you could use a break." A deep voice sounded from his left.

Ryou snapped his head to the side, startled by the sudden noise of the intruder. His eyes rested on a young man no older than seventeen. He had a smirk on his face.

"I-I'm sorry, but who are you?" Ryou asked, his voice slightly shaky.

"Oh, how rude of me." The boy laughed. "The name's Yami." He held out his hand for Ryou to shake. Reluctantly Ryou complied. It took a moment, but as Ryou continued to stare at Yami, he remembered. 'This was the guy that was with Malik! He sold me out!' Ryou narrowed his eyes at Yami and turned around to walk back into the room. He wanted nothing to do with this man. It was his fault that Ryou was still here, yet, he knew that he should not bring that up, there was no telling what this boy was up to.

"Where are you going?" Yami asked with a chuckle, grabbing onto Ryou's arm and pulling him back.

"I have to get back to Malik." Ryou said quietly, casually pulling his arm free.

"Why?" Yami asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why on earth would you want to try and save him? You know that he would never do the same for you."

"I'm not doing this because I think he would do the same for me." Ryou snapped.

"Whoa there kid, I didn't mean to press any buttons." Yami said, waving his hand. "I just meant, well, don't you think that Malik deserves to die?" Yami folded his arms waiting for a response. His manipulative ways stretched far past his playful pastime with Malik...

Ryou thought for a minute. Yes, Malik did deserve to die, but that didn't mean that Ryou could live with himself if he just sat by and allowed it to happen. He still had a shred of dignity within him.

"Look, sir, I really have to get back." Ryou said, inclining his head slightly before turning yet again to head back into the room.

"Its amazing that you don't let it bother you." Yami said quickly.

"Let what bother me?" Ryou asked, turning his head around.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that, well, Malik killed Bakura. I admire your ability to move on." Yami smiled, knowing that it would be much easier to sway this boy than it was to sway Malik.

"You have no idea..."Ryou began quietly, "what I am going through, or the conditions under which I am currently bound." He finished through gritted teeth. Though he desperately wanted to give this boy a piece of his mind he decided that there would be no need for a reprise of his highly inappropriate lashing out towards Malik.

"Yes, but if I were you I'd love to see him suffer." Yami smiled, thinking that he was finally getting to Ryou. 'I want to see him suffer...immensely.' He thought with a twinge of excitement at the mental picture of it. Yes, the boy was finally breaking; Yami could see it in Ryou's eyes. The confusion, the panic, the pain. These were all the right ingredients for changing someone's mind.

Ryou stood silent for a minute. How many times had it been now? That he had dreamt of Malik's death; it was one too many to count. It would be nice to finally see his dreams come true. Well, all but one of them. It had suddenly hit him; all of his dreams were about Malik's death, except for one. In that very dream he had chosen, upon his own free will, to turn away from Bakura...and to save Malik. Ryou needed no other confirmation. Confidently he lifted up his head and gave Yami a smile.

"Well, good for you." Ryou replied walking away from him.

Yami looked completely shocked; he had thought that he was getting Ryou to do as he had wished. Evidently not. So he, becoming frustrated did something that he could have never done with Malik. He used force.

"Listen here you little brat." Yami yelled as he harshly grabbed Ryou by the arm and yanked him back. He forced the boy against the wall and held him there. "Malik is not fit to rule. He never was. Things would be so much better if he weren't Pharaoh!" Yami brought his face in closer to Ryou's and narrowed his eyes. "Why on earth would you want to save him?"

"Because I made a promise." Ryou stated calmly. By now he was used to being roughed up, and so this little show didn't really faze him.

"You'll change your mind as soon as I'm done with you!" Yami growled as he raised his hand to strike the boy. Ryou shielded his face and waited for the impact, but there was none. Instead a man's voice sounded behind them.

"Is there a problem here?"

Immediately Yami released his grip and turned around. Ryou saw the man standing behind Yami and recognized him as the doctor who had saved him.

The doctor glared at Yami and then looked at Ryou with slight concern.

"There's no problem here, doc, I was just checking up on Malik. I'm really worried about him." Yami said, although it was evident that he could care less because he quickly turned back to Ryou, his eyes flashing with anger. "I ran into little Ryou here just as I was about to go in. But I'll trouble you no more." Slowly Yami brushed past Ryou and walked down the hallway, rounding the corner out of sight. Ryou could have sworn he saw a glint of something gold sticking out of Yami's robes.

"Are you alright?" The doctor asked, coming closer to Ryou. "That insufferable little twit." He sighed shaking his head. "And, you're sure you're alright?" He asked again.

Wearily Ryou nodded as he made his way into the room.

"I just came to check up on you and to see if you needed anymore medicine." He said, following Ryou into Malik's room. "Malik...is he..." The doctor began, afraid of what he'd hear.

"No." Ryou shook his head. "Not yet." He paused and looked over to the bed. Malik was still asleep, or unconscious, Ryou couldn't really tell. "There must be something more that you can do for him. Isn't there any other medicine? He's burning up and there's nothing I can do. I tried cooling him down with the rag but it only seems to hurt him more."

The doctor remained quiet for a long moment as he stared at Malik.

"Ryou," He began, "I'm sorry. I've exhausted all of our medical resources. There is absolutely nothing more that I can possibly do. We've beseeched the Gods, invoked Bastet and Heket, and preformed almost all of the sacred chants that are in my scrolls. I'm afraid we have no options left." He looked back at Ryou. "When I asked you to stay in here it was more for emotional support than anything. Right now there's nothing that anyone can do for him except you."

"I...don't understand. I thought you gave me the rag and the water so that maybe I could help break his fever." Ryou looked utterly confused.

The doctor shook his head. "Ryou...I don't really know how to tell you this, but...Malik, when he was screaming out your name earlier, he was delirious. As a doctor I've seen this sort of thing all the time. People, when they're in that state don't act rationally. They often do or say things that they wouldn't normally do or say. In his delirium, Malik was admitting what he would have never normally said...Ryou; I don't think you truly understand how desperately this boy needs you. Honestly I don't think that he truly understands either. Just trust me. He knows you're here right now, and I know that he's grateful." Without another word he walked out of the room leaving the speechless Ryou to sit alone and become even more tormented.

I have a contest for you. In this chapter I threw in a little allusion to a very famous piece of literature. When you review if you would like to take a stab at guessing where it was and to what I was alluding then I will love you forever. Just tell me the name of the work and who wrote it and you'll score some major brownie points. I don't really have a prize but if you get it right then we can negotiate. I could draw you a picture or send you a music video or something, I don't know...lets just see if one of you can get it first. I'll give you a clue; the allusion is towards the end of the chapter.

So, I hope that you've enjoyed this story and I hope that you'll find the ending somewhat suitable (I absolutely hate HATE writing endings, wrapping things up is so hard). Again, thank you all for the helpful reviews! Just to warn you, I don't know when I'll update next because I have that Fine Arts Festival thing again. Last year it was in Austin, Texas and this year it's in Denver, Colorado. No offence to anyone from Denver, but I don't really know if there's much to do up there. If you've ever been there or if you live there could you please please prove me wrong? I would like to enjoy my week! Thanks!