Dark Roses

Disclaimer - I don't own them. Hell, I don't even own this plot bunny that's gnawing on my leg for all it's worth.


Author's Notes - Another update for this one, because I'm 1 - In a relatively good mood and 2 - I'm hoping to prod the lovely lady_wolfTerri into updating Alone and One Dance for me : ) If you haven't read either of those stories, I suggest you do so. They're ever so much fun . . . hell, she's just as twisted as I am. Is it any wonder I luv her enough to write this for her?

4 – Alone


Bakura left him alone the next morning in homeroom, almost as if their conversation of the day before had never occurred. That suited Malik just fine . . . he didn’t want the youth getting the idea that just because they had talked, they were friends. He didn’t need that complication in his life.

Drifting through his classes in his usual bored daze, he was relieved when lunch came around. For once, the weather was warm enough that they were allowed to go outside for the short period, and he took the opportunity gladly, skipping the lunch line and going straight for the doors. He wasn’t surprised to find that the only tree in the yard was already claimed by the ‘bad boy beauties’ as he had dubbed them. What did surprise him was that, when he settled down, he was approached by the two smaller members of the group.

“Hi there!” the one that looked like Yami called out . . . Yugi, if he remembered correctly. “You know, you don’t have to sit here all alone. You could come join us.” Stopping a few feet away, he looked at Malik, smiling brightly. Beside him was Ryou, Bakura’s lover, if the rumor mill was correct. He still couldn’t figure out quite how they fit in . . . if everything he’d heard was true, these two were practically angels compared to their lovers.

But that didn’t address the issue at hand . . . why were they approaching him? He eyed them cautiously, trying to access the situation and coming up with far too many gaps for his liking. Nobody else had bothered to approach after that incident with Ushio . . . was it the competition thing after all?

“No thanks,” he said finally. “I like being alone.” He figured that would end the conversation . . . so he was somewhat surprised when Ryou sat down next to him and Yugi actually stepped closer.

“No one likes being alone all the time,” Yugi said, tilting his head to one side inquisitively.

“We really would like to get to know you,” Ryou added, reaching out to rest a hand on his knee. He was startled when the blonde shied away from the touch, standing up so suddenly it looked like he’d teleported into the position.

“Look, I don’t need friends, or company, or anything else of that nature. I prefer to be alone!” he snapped. He grabbed his book bag, trying to calm his heart as it thundered in his chest. He didn’t like to be touched . . . touch meant pain, and even a friendly touch like the one Ryou had just administered unnerved him. But he made the mistake of looking at them, and the shock and worry in their innocent eyes broke his anger somewhat. He sighed, shifting uneasily, but he simply couldn’t walk away anymore, as he’d intended.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured after an uneasy moment of silence. “I just . . . not everyone needs friends, and I certainly don’t. I can’t afford it right now. Please . . . just leave me alone. Tell Bakura I’ll be at that party . . . it’ll help me take the edge off the boredom, but that’s it.” With that, he walked away, leaving the two boys to stare after him in confusion.

“Ryou,” Yugi said after a moment, “is it just me, or is there something more going on here then just a wish to be alone?” Ryou nodded, still staring after the departing blonde.

“Yugi . . . did you see the way he reacted when I touched him?” he asked. “It was as if I was going to hurt him. There’s something there . . . he’s been abused, I’d bet Bakura’s last heist haul on it.” Yugi nodded, the amethyst eyes darkening. He didn’t like to see anyone react like that . . . believing as he did that everyone deserved happiness, to see someone so afraid of something so simple and innocent hurt him deeply.

“What do you think he meant, that he can’t afford friends right now?” Yugi whispered, sinking down to sit beside his friend. “Do you think . . . it could be because of what Seto showed us yesterday? That he knows he’s got a price on his head?” Ryou shrugged slightly, but looked away toward where Malik had disappeared thoughtfully.

“Maybe,” he said after a moment. “But I don’t think that’s everything. The only way to find out . . . is to break through those walls he’s put around himself. I think we’ll leave that to Yami and Bakura.” In silent accord, they rose and went back to their lover’s, deep in thought.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Marik sat in History class beside Yami, but his mind wasn’t anywhere near the lesson. Rather, it as well as his eyes rested on his carbon-copy sitting at one of the front tables, twirling a pencil absently in his fingers and staring at the board with dull lavender eyes.
When Ryou and Yugi had returned to their group at lunch, and told them about Malik’s reaction to their approach, he couldn’t stop the shudder that had passed through him mentally. It was like watching himself get to know the others all over again . . . not letting anyone close, being unable to simply let go of the past and move on, have a life and friends. Even now, he had problems with it still, although it had been two years since the last time his father had been free to beat him.

He was relieved to hear that the blonde was going to be coming to the party, although he couldn’t quite place the reason why. Yami and Bakura had immediately set out to plan a way to get the kid alone so they could talk to him . . . as much as those two had reputations for being hard cases, they both had a soft heart when it came to people in trouble, and Malik certainly fell under that category in their minds. They were determined to open him up and help him if they could . . . and for once, Marik was just as interested in doing so as they were.

So here he sat, pondering the strange enigma that had come into his life in the form of this youth that was a near mirror image of him, and wondering just what he was going to do about it. Yami and Bakura already had their plan . . . but he had this strange suspicion that it wasn’t going to work the way they wanted it to. Something about Malik just threw all the rules out the window, he was sure of it.

After class, as they strode down the hall, Marik found his eyes tracking Malik through the crowded hallway. Because of this, it was easy to start pinpointing all the little details he hadn’t seen before . . . the easy way the other teenager avoided any unnecessary touch with others around him, and the involuntary flinch that accompanied each unwanted invasion of his personal space. The nervousness that would start to vibrate the muscles if someone looked at him too long, or seemed to take an uncommon interest in him . . . and the uncanny ability he seemed to have of simply knowing when someone was watching him too closely.

All of those signs were indicative of a person who had grown up in a household where he had to be on guard all the time . . . but there were no visible bruises, and no obvious outward signs of pain. Was he a runaway perhaps? Could that be the reason for the bounty on his head? Had he run away from a person who beat him repeatedly, giving him this fear of touch and attention?

Resolving to talk it over with Bakura before the party tomorrow, he turned his attention back to get his ass out of school . . . and therefore missed the lingering gaze of the very person who he’d been watching.

Malik watched the taller boy until he was out of sight, and then sighed slightly, wondering what was going on. He’d been able to feel those violet eyes on his back all through class again . . . what the hell was the problem? He hadn’t challenged their authority in the school . . . hell, he’d gone out of his way to make sure what had happened with Ushio never happened again! So why in the world were they studying him so closely? What had he done to garner such attention?

He’d been unable to get the events at lunch out of his head the whole afternoon, and that bothered him as well. He knew how to deal with people like Bakura and Yami . . . you merely showed some backbone and they respected you. They may not like you, but at least they left you alone. But Yugi and Ryou were something else entirely . . . even though he knew they weren’t virgins anymore, there was a stunning innocence about the two that he couldn’t remember ever having seen before.

They had such faith in the world, that all would turn out all right in the end . . . had he ever been that naïve? ‘Everybody needs friends’, ‘No one likes to be alone all the time’ . . . what did they know? He neither needed nor wanted friends . . . not right now, not when he could have to dump it all and run any minute.

He’d learned at an early age that the world wasn’t a nice place. Love wasn’t guaranteed, even from your parents, and life wasn’t all peaches and cream. If you let down your guard, inevitably you would be hurt, most painfully from those you thought you could trust.
Ishizu and Odion were the only people he needed in his life . . . everyone else could go to hell. Yes, on occasion he wished he could have friends, and have a normal life . . . but what was the use of trying? Life had made him the way he was, and even if he did find people willing to try to get past his shields, he would only have to leave them in the end, so what was the point?

He made it to his locker and out of the school without further incident, and began the long walk home, hoping he’d be able to talk his sister into buying the motorcycle he’d seen soon. Simply walking everywhere in this city was annoying.

He gasped suddenly as hands grabbed him, clapping over his mouth and grabbing his wrists before dragging him into a nearby alley. He stumbled as they threw him down the garbage littered stone corridor, fighting to keep his feet before whirling back around . . . and coming face to face with Ushio and his cronies.

“Well, well, pretty boy . . . looks like this time you’re outnumbered with no one to save you. And I won’t underestimate you again.” Knuckles cracked ominously. “You need a lesson in manners, and payback for what you did to me.”

“I merely defended myself, asshole,” Malik snarled, lavender eyes studying the group of teenagers and his surroundings warily. “Not my fault you don’t have the brains to realize when you’re outmatched.” Ushio growled and motioned two of his guys forward, smiling as Malik began to cautiously back up.

“Yeah, well . . . time to teach you how much of a pretty boy you really are . . . and what a real man can do to a little shit like you.”

One on one was a very different scenario than this, and pressure points wouldn’t help him this time. This was going to get very physical . . . and that wasn’t something he was proficient at. He continued to back up, lavender eyes scanning the walls for any openings that might provide an escape . . . and found none.

He started panicking, struggling to keep his body from locking up and his mind from freezing as images of his father cornering him began flashing before his eyes. Black spots began to waver before his vision, his breathing becoming restricted as he started to hyperventilate in reaction to the circumstances. Because of this, he didn’t see the first guy move until he had grabbed his wrist . . . which was his first and only mistake.

The sudden touch of a hand closing over his wrist snapped something within Malik, and he snarled before grabbing the arm that held him and falling backwards, bringing his legs up to propel the guy up and over his body with the momentum of the fall to help him. He continued to roll, coming back to his feet as his first aggressor thudded into the wall behind him and slid down it, unconscious. The second guy, however, caught him as he was regaining his balance and shoved him into the wall with a grunt of pain.

“I’m going to fuck you over so hard you’ll never walk again, pretty boy,” the guy snarled, one hand fumbling at Malik’s pants. Malik froze, his mind going into panic as he realized what the guy meant.

But it seemed, while he’d dealt with the first guy, some unexpected assistance had come to his rescue. The end of the alley was already littered with the fallen, and Ushio was writhing underneath a booted foot, Marik staring down at him with angry eyes as Bakura and Yami finished up what they were doing. Yugi and Ryou hovered at the entrance, watching but not participating in the brawl.

Malik gasped as the guy that was on him was literally yanked away, dropping him back to his feet as a white haired fiend pummeled the guy into the dirt, blood splattering across the stone wall as Bakura took a knife to his would be rapist.

He tried to calm his breathing, to get his reactions under control, but the adrenaline was leaving him in a rush, bringing back the numbing panic of a moment before. That had been too close . . .

He was helpless to stop from falling to his knees, retching violently as his nervous system went back to normal. He felt cool hands on his forehead and neck, holding him steady as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the already filthy stone, smoothing back his hair when it threatened to get in his face.

“It’s all right, calm down,” a soothing voice murmured in his ear, and he shivered slightly, both in fear with the fact that someone was so close and the feeling of warm breath against the sensitive shell of his ear. “We’ve got your back, Malik.” He jolted in surprise as he recognized the voice . . . of all the people to be comforting him, he would never have expected the cold, sadistic, pale haired teenager to be the one doing so. Strangely, he found it easier to accept it once he knew who it was.

“Fucking Ushio . . . you never could leave well enough alone,” Yami growled, dusting his hands off on the tight black jeans he had worn to school as he finished off the last of Ushio’s gang. “Bakura, is he all right?” The thief looked up at Yami and shrugged slightly before turning back to the kneeling, shivering, puking teenager to continue to try and calm him down.

Marik snarled down at the pinned Ushio, rage making him see red. Why he was so mad he couldn’t quite say, but he was glad that he had decided to hang back and follow Malik home. That throw had been a real piece of work, but he wouldn’t have been able to hold them all off for very long, and Ushio had a nasty reputation for doing some pretty unspeakable things to people that pissed him off. And Malik had pissed him off . . . he’d embarrassed him and made him look bad in front of the entire school, costing him some of his power base. What it had looked like when they dashed into the alley was something that was completely unforgivable in his eyes, and he wanted Ushio’s blood for even thinking of touching Malik that way.

A hand on his shoulder made him realize that he was pressing down with his boot, the bully beneath him slowly turning blue from a lack of oxygen as he cut off his airway with one black steel-toe.

“Marik, back off . . .” Yami murmured, a hint of concern in his voice. “Killing him won’t do you any good . . .” For a moment he was worried that Marik wasn’t listening to him, the blue tint slowly getting worse before he growled slightly and simply turned and walked out of the alley, leaving Ushio to gasp for air on the filthy stones like a landed fish. He stared after his friend, surprised at the display of violence. Yeah, Marik was a bit unstable, and prone to some nasty displays when angered . . . but he’d never before seen his friend get so worked up for someone that wasn’t even remotely close to him.

Something was going on in that blonde head . . . and he hoped it was what he was thinking it might be. But that would have to be dug out by Bakura . . . the thief was the only one that could push Marik and really get anywhere with it. ‘Kura would have to be the one that managed this particular situation.

He looked up as Bakura stood, helping a shaking Malik to his feet carefully, wrapping an arm around the slim blonde’s waist to keep him steady as they walked toward where Yami stood over Ushio. He hoped the teen would be okay . . . after the suspicions they’d developed this afternoon, this event had to have shook him badly.

Lavender eyes narrowed slightly as the prone teenager came into the other’s view, and somehow it wasn’t surprising when Malik pushed Bakura off slightly and stood there for a minute before planting a solid blow to the ribcage in Ushio’s side. He seemed a prideful kid.

“Ever consider doing this shit to me again, you cock-sucker, and I will personally see to it that your dick ends up where the sun don’t shine . . . ever,” the youth snarled before stalking over to his book bag and swinging it onto his back. He walked over to Ryou and Yugi, nodding a greeting to them as if nothing had happened, before turning to look over his shoulder at Bakura and Yami.

“Thanks for the help,” he murmured . . . and then simply walked away, leaving the four of them staring at him in confusion as he made his escape.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


As soon as he was around the corner and out of sight of his rescuer’s, he sagged against a store wall, his bag dropping from numb fingers as he shuddered helplessly in the grip of the fear that was still battering at his mind.

They . . . had planned to rape him. Ushio had planned to rape him. He shivered violently, a sob welling up in his throat to choke him as he slid down the wall and curled his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them. It was as if they had known the one thing that could terrify him the most . . .

What if his father had contacted them? What if . . . he had told them? His paranoia was back in full force, and suddenly he only wanted to get home and pack, to get ready to move again before his father could reclaim him.

He tried to force himself to calm down, to think rationally, but his mind had gone on auto-pilot, thoughts of his father circling like shark’s that had smelled blood in the water.

A light touch on one arm caused him to jolt, and he looked up sharply . . . only to freeze as lavender met violet in a face that could have been a mirror.

“That was a nice show, but no one recovers from nearly getting raped that easily,” Marik murmured, crouching down in front of the shivering figure carefully. “Come on . . . I’ll walk you the rest of the way home.”

“I’m . . . I’ll be fine,” Malik said finally, forcing his aching body to stand and moving away from the presence of his look-alike warily. Why had he followed him? He’d said his thank you . . . what more did Marik want from him? He looked up sharply as Marik stepped toward him, and took a step back to maintain the distance between them. “Look, I said I’ll be fine,” he snapped. “I don’t need anyone to protect me!”

One platinum eyebrow rose on that mirror face skeptically, telling him silently that the other boy didn’t believe him. He snorted and turned his back on the lean figure, beginning to walk slowly toward home once again . . . only to realize after a block that Marik was still following him, keeping pace. He whirled back around, stalking up to the taller blonde and poking a finger into that firm chest roughly.

“I don’t need a damn babysitter!” he snarled, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t need anyone to watch over me, damn it, so just go away!”

“Everyone needs somebody,” Marik replied quietly. “Why do you hold everyone at arm’s length? You’ve made no friends in school, and you turned down Yugi and Ryou’s offer to join us this afternoon . . . what are you so afraid of that you can’t let anyone close?” Lavender eyes widened as those comments struck too close to home, and the tough stance he’d taken suddenly become a protective shield instead.

Marik noticed the change in stance, and violet eyes darkened as he realized he must have struck really close to home. Maybe their suspicions were true after all.

“You don’t understand,” Malik whispered, so low that Marik almost didn’t hear the words. “You can’t understand . . . no one can. I’m tired of having to leave everything behind . . . I won’t open myself up to that again.” He looked up at the teenager standing there, and Marik was startled to find tears in those lavender eyes. “Please . . . just leave me alone!” He reached out unconsciously as Malik whirled away, rooted to the spot as the other teenager ran.

“Just what is it that you think I wouldn’t understand?” he asked to the retreating back. The wind bore no answers, and with a sigh he turned and began the trek back to where he had left his friends. Maybe if he discussed it with them, they could come up with some ideas.