A/N: Hey, all. I'm alive, as you can see, and I'm back with a bright, shiny new fanfic! I wanted to get this up weeks ago, but I've been crazy busy since school started. I joined tennis for the first year of my life, and that took up a lot of time. It just ended, though, so maybe I'll have a bit more free time. I also, for the first - and probably last - time in my life, managed to get a lead role in my school play, so rehearsals and script memorization have been cutting into my time, too. Luckily, that's over at the end of the month, so for about two months (auditions for the spring musical usually happen in December or January) the only thing cutting into my free time will be homework, and college visitations, but I finish my college visits in November, so mainly just homework. :)

Well, if you managed to survive that l-o-n-g author's note (sorry 'bout that), allow me to introduce the continuation of my oneshot "Graveyard"! Hooray! (As of right now, the title for this story will remain as "Graveyard" since I can't come up with anything better. If anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear them.)

One last thing, (I know, I know) this prolouge is actually the original oneshot, so if you've already read it and just want to skip straight to the actual story, you can. Or, if you're a newcomer and have never read the oneshot before, read on! (And no, Marik will not be a girl for the whole story.) Okay, I swear I'm done now.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!

London, 1805:

Marik quietly crept down the stairs of her home. She accidentally stepped on the one stair that always creaked when the slightest bit of weight was placed on it and held her breath as the sound echoed through the house. She waited for ten heart-stopping seconds before deciding that her siblings hadn't heard her and continued down the stairs.

She reached the back door - exiting through the front door was too risky, she could be seen by a nighttime policeman - and jumped when she heard a voice behind her.

"Where are you going?"

She turned around and was momentarily blinded by the small flame of a candle, the only light in the dark house. When her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out the form of her adoptive brother.

"Odion," she said, trying not to show how much he had startled her. "I, um, I couldn't sleep. I was just going for a walk to clear my mind."

"A walk at this time of night with no source of light?" Odion sighed. "Marik, these midnight walks must stop. If someone were to see you walking alone..."

"Brother, I'll be fine. It will be just a short walk."

Odion sighed. "What do you plan on saying if someone sees you?"

"Well...that I was sent out on an errand. Is that all right?"

"So you would lie. Just what is it you're doing on these walks of yours?"

Marik was silent. What was she supposed to say? She didn't like lying to Odion. He was one of the few people in the world that she trusted. Oh, why did he have to catch her?

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "I'll just go back to bed."

"No. It's not my place to stop you from doing what you wish. After all, I'm just a servant."

Marik took a couple steps forward and wrapped her arms around her adoptive brother's waist, hugging him tightly. Her mother had wished to raise Odion as her own son after she had taken him in from the streets as a baby. After their mother's death, Marik's older sister, Ishizu, pleaded with their father not to send Odion back into the streets. He agreed, but instead of treating Odion like a son, he was demoted to servant status, taking care of the master's house and daughters.

"Thank you, brother," Marik whispered, stepping backwards. She knew that Odion would simply go back to bed and would the next morning deny seeing her sneak out. She could trust Odion. She hoped.

Marik pushed open the rusted gate of the graveyard and stepped in. She shivered as the night air suddenly seemed to drop several degrees. Her breath fogged in the air and she wished she had worn something warmer. She should know better, after so many nights spent here.

Rubbing her arms, she slowly made her way across the cemetary, coming to a stop in front of one gravestone in particular:

Veronica Ishtar

1754-1789

Loving Mother, Obedient Wife

Marik knelt down in front of her mother's grave and gently brushed her fingertips over the engraved words.

"Hello, Mother," she whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't visited you these last few times I have been here. I know you must be lonely."

"I hate to break it to you, my dear, but the dead feel nothing, not even lonliness."

Marik jumped up at the voice behind her. Before she could turn around, a pale arm slid around her waist and a hand covered her mouth, preventing her from making a noise.

"I hope you don't mind, my dear," a seductive voice purred in her ear. "But I haven't eaten all day." Marik squirmed, shaking the hand off of her mouth.

"Bakura!" she cried, turning around in the pale man's arms and throwing her arms around his neck. "I've told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

"Apologies, Marik. Sometimes the temptation is just to great to resist."

Marik took a step back and smiled at the pale man before her. His eyes gleamed red in the light of the full moon, and his snow-white hair hung down past his shoulders, but what never failed to catch her attention was the two long fangs that overlapped the rest of his teeth when he bared them in what was supposed to be a charming smile. This was her secret, her lover, Bakura.

A vampire.

Many of the townspeople were superstitious. Somehow, they had gotten the idea that a vampire was living nearby, waiting to feed off of their blood the moment they let their guard down. They never wandered out at night, and did their best to avoid the cemetary, even during the day when there was nothing to fear. But Marik had never believed the rumors and had decided to go to the graveyard late at night to prove to the townspeople how foolish they were being. She hadn't known at the time that there was a vampire living in a tomb at the cemetary, and she hadn't expected to fall in love with him.

She had kept her distance at first, never speaking to him, only watching him from a distance. Until one night, when he spoke to her;

"I know that you're there. You've been watching me for quite some time." The moment he turned and locked eyes with her, Marik felt a chill run through her body. "Young women should not be wandering alone at night. Particularly in a graveyard."

"I'm...I'm not afraid of you. If you knew I was watching you, why didn't you attack me?"

"Hmm. Perhaps it was because no mortal has ever watched me with such fascination before. Or..." He had somehow gotten behind her, running his chilled fingers down her arms. "Perhaps it's because I have never been so fascinated with a human before."

Marik did her best to go to the graveyard every night after that encounter. At first she had been wary, ready to scream if he made a lunge for her throat. But as time went on, she grew to trust the vampire, and fell more in love with him on each visit.

Bakura's arms drawing her close brought her out of her memories. She shivered slightly and he made a slight tsk-ing sound.

"After all this time, you do not remember how cold this cemetary gets at night? Foolish little mortal, why don't you dress warmer?"

"I'm sorry," Marik said, placing her hands on his chest and smiling at him. "I was in such a rush to see you that I didn't think."

"I'm sorry that I can't do much to keep you warm," Bakura muttered, wrapping his own cloak around Marik's shoulders. Marik smiled slightly, before remembering what happened earlier.

"I may not be able to visit you for a while, Bakura," she said. "Odion caught me sneaking out tonight. I think he suspects something. I know that he won't tell but...I do not like keeping secrets from him."

Bakura tightened his grip on his mortal lover.

"Then let me turn you, Marik," he whispered. "It wouldn't hurt you, and you wouldn't have to lie to them any longer. You could tell them everything, and then I could take you away before anyone could harm you."

"I...I cannot let you, Bakura. Not yet," Marik responded, pressing her face against Bakura's shirt.

"Why not?" Bakura asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. He stroked Marik's hair gently. "You do not need them. We have each other."

Marik tilted her head back and looked Bakura sadly in the eyes.

"But they need me, Bakura."

Bakura closed his eyes and held Marik close.

"Are you certain?"

Marik nodded.

"Someday..." she whispered. Bakura sighed and released his grip on Marik, holding her out at arms' length.

"In the meantime..." he murmured with a smirk, baring his fangs in the slightest and making Marik shiver again. "Shall we make love? Right here, right now? Proclaim our bond before the dead?"

Marik glanced down at the gravestone the couple was still in front of.

"Not in front of my mother..." she said. Bakura rolled his eyes slightly.

"She's dead, my love. She won't scold us."

"I know, but...it just doesn't seem right."

"Alright. If you feel so strongly about it, we can go to my tomb. But I warn you, you will have a much longer walk back home."

"I don't mind walking."

Bakura grinned, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

"Then let's go."

Several Weeks Later...

Bakura perched on top of a gravestone and studied the moon. Midnight. Marik would be here soon, if she was able to sneak out. That interfering brother of hers had kept her away from Bakura for much too long. He needed to see her, to hold her.

If only she would let him turn her! He would keep her safe from the so-called "vampire hunters" that would spring up from time to time in every town he visited. She would no longer be suffocated by that overbearing family of hers. She wouldn't have to be afraid of being discovered and killed for associating with a vampire. She would be his, and he would be hers. They only needed each other. They didn't need anyone to interfere.

"Bakura?"

She was here. Bakura jumped down from the gravestone, landing in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

"Marik," he whispered. "I have missed you."

"I've missed you, too." Marik gripped him tightly, pressing her face into his chest. Bakura took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her away, holding her out at arms length.

"What is it, Marik?" he asked, sensing that something was troubling his mate.

"I need you to turn me."

Bakura was taken aback by the blunt demand. Had something happened to her family? Had their relationship been discovered somehow?

"Marik...why now?"

Marik looked down. Taking on of Bakura's hands, she linked his fingers with her own and pressed them against her stomach.

"I am with child," she whispered. "Your child."

Bakura's eyes widened slightly. He took half a step back. Fate was cruel, so cruel. Just the two of them had suddenly become something much, much bigger.

"Bakura, you must turn me," Marik pleaded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Bakura stepped closer to her and pulled her close once more.

"I cannot," he whispered.

"But..."

"Not until the child is born. If I were to turn you now, it would irreversibly damage the child. We would have to kill it the moment it was born."

Marik gasped quietly, putting one hand over her mouth.

"But...when the doctor's see the child, they will know...They'll know it is not a mortal man's child!"

Bakura pressed one hand on Marik's stomach, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

"The child will be born at night," he said. "All vampire children must be born at night, even if they are half-mortal. The daylight would kill them the moment it met their skin. You must come to me before the baby is born. A week before, if you are able. We will leave this place. Forever. Then, when the child has been born, I will turn you."

"What about the baby?" Marik whispered. "If it is half-mortal, half-vampire, it would die someday, wouldn't it?"

"No. Half-mortals age slower than normal mortals. They age the equivalent of two mortal years every century. When they reach the age that they wish to remain in immortally, they perform a ritual that will prevent them from aging any longer." Bakura sighed. "At least, that's what I've heard..." He looked at Marik and kissed her forehead gently.

"What do your siblings think? Do they know?" Marik nodded.

"Odion believes that I've been sneaking out at night to go see someone. He's right, of course, but he assumes it's a mortal."

"Then he's wrong. And your sister?" Marik glanced at the ground.

"She is disappointed in me. She doesn't say it, but I can tell." Bakura held Marik close, stroking her hair.

"Don't worry, my love. Soon you and our child will be with me forever, and you won't have to worry about disappointing her ever again."

"I know. I should go back. They've been keeping a closer eye on me since we found out..."

"I understand." Bakura kissed Marik. "Be careful. Tell people that the father was a traveler who ran off when he learned of the child."

"I will. I shall return before the child is born."

Several months later...

Bakura paced around the cemetary, his cloak flowing in the wind behind him. It was drawing closer and closer to the time when the baby would be born. Why was Marik waiting so long? Was she really so reluctant to leave her family?

Bakura's head snapped up at the sound of running feet. Someone was approaching. He ducked behind a gravestone and waited. Soon, Marik appeared, looking disheveled. Panting, she looked around desperately, clutching a small bundle to her chest. It couldn't be...

Bakura flew out from behind the gravestone and was next to Marik in an instant. Without saying a word, he pulled a blanket back from the bundle, revealing a small, pale face framed by snow-white hair. His child. Bakura looked at Marik, opening his mouth, but she spoke before he could.

"I tried to come last night, Bakura, but the baby...he came early. I couldn't do anything. The doctor saw his eyes, Bakura, he knows! He went to tell the rest of the village. Odion helped me escape. Bakura, we have to run!"

Bakura closed his eyes and listened. He could faintly hear the rest of the villagers approaching the graveyard, set to kill all three of them.

"Marik, take our son and go. I'll hold them off and catch up to you."

"No!" Marik clutched Bakura's arm. "I cannot run on my own forever, Bakura. I need you. Ryou needs you."

Bakura looked down at the bundle once more. Ryou, his son, was fast asleep, completely unaware to the impeding danger. There was no way Bakura could leave them.

"Alright. We'll go to my tomb. There's a tunnel in there that we can escape through. But we have to hurry," he said urgently, the sound of footsteps drawing closer. "Or they will catch us."

Marik nodded, holding Ryou closer. Bakura took her free hand and started running, making a beeline for his tomb. Four marble walls, and one heavy stone door, no mortal man could open it on his own.

"Unless there were many mortal men with the proper equipment to break through stone," Bakura thought with a grimace. No, he could not think that. He had to protect Marik and Ryou. He had to get to the tomb, seal the door, open the tunnel...

Marik cried out as she slipped. Bakura steadied her.

"We're almost there, Marik," he said. "We'll be safe soon."

Marik stared down at Ryou with tears in her eyes. Kissing his forehead softly, she handed the bundle to Bakura.

"I cannot go on," she said. "I was already tired from giving birth. I have no strength left. You have to continue, Bakura. Keep Ryou safe. I promise, I will find you again."

"Marik, they will kill you! I can't let you-"

"Bakura." Marik stared into his eyes. "Please. Go. Take care of Ryou. Keep him from harm. And remember that I will find you both."

Bakura kissed Marik hard. There was no time left. The crowd was too close. He couldn't convince Marik to flee. She was mortal, she was tired, she was going to die here, by the hands of those she had once called her friends.

"I will never stop searching for you," Bakura promised. Marik squeezed his hand.

"Go."

Bakura took off into the night, forcing himself not to look back. The child in his arms stirred and began to whimper. He held his son protectively and murmured to him in an attempt to soothe him, but all that was coming to his mind was the child's mother.

"Marik, I will find you again," he said. "I don't care how many centuries it will take. I will find you. And when I do, I will turn you, no matter what. I will not let you be taken away from us again. I promise."