Dark Roses

Disclaimer - If I owned them, I would be in the backroom with a harem, and you all would be SOL.

Author's Notes - Due to a stupendous day (my car is fixed - YAY) and the fact that the Patriots won (long story as to why I was rooting for them) I decided to celebrate by putting up another chapter of Roses. Malik's secret is revealed . . . how will the other's react? You'll just have to read to find out.


5 – Discoveries


After the incident of the day before, and the nightmare ridden night that had followed, Malik wasn’t entirely sure going to the party was a good idea. But he had to do something . . . sitting around the apartment was leaving him with too much time to think about what might have happened and what had happened, and too many memories that simply wouldn’t leave him alone.

So, he found himself standing in front of his mirror, checking his reflection one last time before he left for the party. Starting from his feet, he worked his way up his image, checking every last detail. He wanted to look good . . . because he wanted to convince Marik and his friends that yesterday’s attack hadn’t affected him in the slightest.

Black jeans hugged his legs from where they tapered around black steel toe boots, up to the black silk shirt that hung open over a tank top the exact color of his eyes. A black leather collar encircled his neck with a large amethyst set into the front, and silver hoops had taken place of the usual gold dangles he wore. His wrists were also leather cuffs, instead of the wide gold bands he was used to, but he found altogether that he liked the change.

Nodding to himself, he finished the look off by lining his eyes in black, running a brush through his hair before leaving the room, satisfied that he would make a favorable impression . . . and perhaps, convince them that he didn’t need them at all. Luckily, Ishizu had lent him the car for the night . . . and later on that week she was going to buy him the motorcycle he’d been looking at. After telling her, in a very glossed over way, of the events of yesterday, she had determined that him walking home simply wasn’t safe anymore. So at least one good thing had come out of it.

Climbing into the car, he headed across town to the address he’d been given . . . and determined to put his worries out of his head for at least one night of a little fun.


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


Marik leaned against one wall, casually scanning the milling crowd, looking for pale blonde hair among the many different colors that had already arrived. Yami and Bakura were off in one dark corner, chatting quietly while their lovers were out on the dance floor, grinding each other and generally driving the people around them nuts . . . not that anyone would have the nerve to even think about touching them. Death sentences had been handed out for lesser offences than to think of touching someone who belonged to Bakura or Yami.

He thought back over the conversation they had all had last night, and wondered if they were right about Malik. After what had happened yesterday, his friends were even more determined to break through the boy’s shell than before, and it was no longer just curiosity. Despite their reputations, both Bakura and Yami had rather tender hearts . . . and Malik had caught their attention. Whether or not he realized it, he had two guardian angels now . . . or was that three?

His own reactions to yesterday’s events had kept him awake long into the night, musing over them silently. Kaiba had even stopped by his room to see what was wrong, and that was rare for Seto, considering that he usually was too busy with his company to really notice anything going on around him.

Bakura’s ‘talk’ had made him start thinking about his feelings toward Malik . . . or at least, it had made him admit he had them. Of course, the pale haired thief had tricked him into it . . . something he would have happily smashed his friend’s face in for if Bakura hadn’t also helped him understand why he was developing feelings toward the new kid.

Marik saw himself in Malik, and understandably wanted to help the kid out of a situation he had narrowly escaped himself. Which was why he was leaning here, scanning the crowd for him. He’s said he was going to be here, but after yesterday’s attack, would he even want to come out in public?

His head shot up as he heard catcall’s and wolf whistles from near the door. Who in the world would attract that much attention? Then he saw the platinum blonde hair that so closely resembled his own, and some of the tension eased out of him. Malik had arrived. Shoving off the wall, he began to make his way through the crowd toward where he could just see the other teenager, who was currently making his own way toward the bar . . . and an isolated corner of the room.

At first, Malik was shocked by the amount of people at the party, and the number of individuals invading his personal space had his head ringing with alarm bells. But after a few moments during which he stood there in shock, he forced himself to relax. It wasn’t as if they were doing it on purpose . . . it was just that packed in here.

Managing to unlock his limbs, he made his way to the bar, smiling at the response the crowd was giving his looks but otherwise ignoring them. Picking up a Bailey’s over ice, he found a dark corner to settle in, making him self comfortable away from the more over populated areas of the party.

He watched the teenagers socialize, and felt just a bit sad at that fact that he really couldn’t do the same. But he just wasn’t cut out for social pleasantries . . . not anymore. Maybe once he would have been . . .

He shoved those thoughts out of his head, resolving that for at least one night he was going to simply enjoy himself without dwelling on his father or his own problems. He took a sip of his drink and smiled appreciatively as the smooth warmth of the liquor slid down his throat before taking another, deeper drink.

A commotion on the dance floor drew his attention, and he was amused to find Ryou and Yugi at the center of it, grinding into each other and generally creating a scene that had several people around them drooling. Seeing those two made him wonder where their more dangerous lovers were, and lavender eyes drifted around the party until they settled on Yami and Bakura talking quietly in a corner. Those same eyes widened when the two kissed deeply before breaking apart and going in different directions. What in the world . . .?

He shook his head slightly, taking his eyes off the two teenagers with a sigh. It wasn’t any of his business . . . it wasn’t like they were friends or anything. He was grateful to them for stepping in to help him yesterday, but it didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t let it mean anything, even though it had brought a strange wish to befriend them to his mind.

They seemed nice . . . and he suspected that somehow they would understand what he was going through. But he couldn’t tell them anything . . . not without opening himself up even further to being hurt when they had to flee his father again.
He chugged the rest of his drink and went back for more, determined not to think anymore of it. He was here to relax and have a bit of fun, and he would be damned if he was going to let his memories stop that.


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


Marik watched Malik from a short distance away, slightly concerned at the amount of alcohol the blonde was drinking. It looked like he was trying to drown himself in the stuff. That had to be the eighth Bailey’s and ice he’d had since he’d arrived, and that was only an three ago.

Looking away for a moment, he met Yami’s gaze across the room and nodded a head toward the youth. Yami nodded in reply, sharing his concern. All three of them were keeping an eye on the blonde . . . after yesterday, they really wanted to talk to him, try to get him to open up to them. Marik had told them all about finding Malik afterwards, and what the blonde had said to him. They were all the more determined to befriend him now, because it really seemed like he needed it.

He turned back to Malik . . . just in time to see the blonde start to waver on his feet. He moved to go to him, but Bakura actually beat him there, which surprised him . . . he hadn’t even seen his white haired friend anywhere nearby.

“It looks like you’ve had enough, Malik,” Bakura murmured, one pale arm wrapping around the slim youth’s waist to steady him. He was surprised when he wasn’t immediately pushed away . . . rather, the blonde leaned into him, sagging slightly against him as he blinked blood shot lavender eyes up at the taller teenager.

“I’m so tired of being alone all the time,” Malik murmured. “You know . . . having to stay so closed and aloof really is hard. You guys were great yesterday . . . I just wish I could be friends with you all . . .” He straightened suddenly, clutching at his stomach as he grimaced. “Gods, I don’t feel so hot . . .”

Bakura wrapped him tighter in his arm, and started making a beeline through the crowd with the blonde at his side.

“You don’t look so hot, either,” he said calmly, making for the bathroom. “Let’s get you into the washroom.”

“Probably a good idea,” Malik muttered dryly. They found their way to a bathroom quickly, with Bakura helping him over to the toilet just in time for him to empty the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

Malik was barely aware of the pale teenager holding his hair back away from his face. He felt cold . . . he was shivering all over, and he simply couldn’t seem to get warm again. Once his stomach stopped heaving, he leaned against the bathtub, shivering violently with his eyes tightly shut.

Bakura took one look at him and swore.

“You stay here, and I’ll be right back,” he said, and dashed out the door. He didn’t have far to go . . . both Yami and Marik were standing right outside, identical looks of concern on their aquiline features. “He’s got alcohol poisoning . . . he just emptied his stomach, but he’s going to feel like shit for at least twenty four hours. And we don’t know where he lives . . .” Yami nodded.

“You two get him up and bring him upstairs . . . he can crash in one of the guest bedrooms.” He waited as Bakura and Marik carefully levered Malik up between the two of them, draping his arms over their shoulders and supporting him between the two of them.

It was short work to get him up the stairs and into a bed . . . but he was still shivering violently, although it appeared he had passed out.

“Someone is going to have to stay with him,” Bakura muttered. Marik nodded, and then began to strip down to his boxers.

“I’ll stay . . . you two go keep an eye on the party, and your two lovers.” Yami smiled at him knowingly, and he snarled at the crimson eyed man, who merely raised his hands in surrender before walking out the door.

“You going to be okay with him alone, bud?” Bakura asked. Marik shrugged, and then nodded before sliding under the covers next to the shivering form, wrapping his arms around the lithe body and pulling it tightly against his own.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m just hoping he doesn’t flip out when he comes to.” Bakura chuckled slightly before moving for the door.

“Just holler if he attacks you,” he called over his shoulder, earning him a glare and a finger for his comment. Still laughing slightly, he drifted out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Marik turned to the shivering boy in his arms, and sighed. Actually, he was hoping Malik didn’t attack him . . . because that would just put a great big hole in their plans to befriend the kid.


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


Whimpers awoke him, and he opened his violet eyes slowly, wondering what was going on. Beside him, Malik lay curled in a ball, shuddering in the grips of some nightmare, the soft sound escaping his lips periodically, punctuated with brief murmurs.

“No . . . Father, please . . . don’t do this to me . . .” the soft words came, easy to hear in the silence of the nearly empty room. “Please . . . I don’t want to do this . . .” The shudders got worse suddenly, and Malik cried out, stiffening abruptly. “Not that . . . please, not the whip!”

Marik lay there, frozen in shock for a moment before he pulled Malik into him, rubbing soothing circles on the shivering back as he cradled the slim frame to him carefully. At some time during their sleep, Malik’s shirt had come undone from his pants, and Marik froze as he felt bare skin against his palms . . . bare skin that was marred by the hard ridges of scarred flesh.

“My gods,” he murmured, horrified. Had the boy’s father really used a whip on him? Gently, so as not to disturb the other teenager, he rolled the boy onto his stomach, carefully raising the black silk shirt and lavender top to see what had been under his fingers moments before. He choked back a horrified shout . . . that perfectly tanned skin was covered with lighter ridges of flesh . . . dozens upon dozens of scars, overlapping each other over and over again across the broad expanse of Malik’s back. “Holy hell,” he whispered, stunned by the sheer amount of horror that lay mapped out on that otherwise perfect flesh.

“Put . . . it . . . down,” a soft voice growled. “Now.” Marik released the shirt quickly, and the body beneath him rolled away from him, until lavender eyes stared down at him angrily as Malik stood beside the bed. “I don’t know how I got here . . . or even how you ended up here with me . . . but I will thank you to never, ever touch my back again,” he said, his voice a low growl of anger.

“You drank too much at the party last night,” Marik snarled in return, his own anger getting the better of him. He wasn’t sure whether it stemmed from Malik’s attitude or if it was a response to the horrifying scars he had just discovered on the boy’s back, but it found an outlet in the other blonde. “You got alcohol poisoning, and we brought you up here to sleep it off. I was helping you stay warm . . . that’s it.”

“Then I’ll say thank you and leave,” Malik replied, turning around to head for the door. Unfortunately, his body chose that moment to remind him he was still suffering side effects, his knees buckling underneath him as the room spun in a crazy pattern.
He gasped as warm arms came up around him, keeping him from the floor.

“Why don’t you stop being a stubborn asshole and get back in the damn bed before you make yourself worse,” Marik growled in his ear. “It’s not like I’m going to rape you.” He was surprised when the youth in his arms suddenly stiffened, a whimper of what could only be described as fear escaping the suddenly pale lips.

“Let go of me,” Malik whispered. “Please.” Marik let the boy go carefully, and watched as he sank to his knees, platinum bangs falling forward to hide the lavender eyes. A horrible idea was forming in his head, and he spoke before he had even fully finished the thought.

“You weren’t just beaten . . . you were raped,” Marik murmured, horrified. He watched as those words landed like blows on the kneeling figure, each one causing another shudder to wrack the lithe form. “Oh gods . . .”

“I’d appreciate it . . . if you didn’t tell anyone else,” Malik choked out, his voice husky around his heart, which seemed to have settled in his throat. “I’d rather not have everyone . . . thinking I’m some sort of prostitute.” Marik stared at him, confused.

“Why the hell would anyone think that? You were raped, not sold.” He started at the cold chuckle that came from the kneeling teen, violet eyes darkening with the boy’s next words.

“That’s what you think,” the low tenor said softly, his voice carefully neutral. “I’ve lost count of the number of people my father ‘loaned’ me to. For a fee, of course.” He shrugged slightly. “After a while, what was one more compared to the number before them? I was ‘earning my keep’.”

The door opened then, and both lavender and violet looked up . . . to meet the eyes of the rest of the group of friends, all of whom looked like they had just had their innocence stolen from them.

Malik looked confused for a moment, and then his eyes traveled around the room, finally coming to rest on the security camera in one corner. He turned to glare accusingly at Marik before rising to his feet.

“Just stay away from me,” he said. He stalked through the gathered friends, ignoring their stares, pulling the tattered remains of his dignity around him as he brushed by them all, and disappeared down the hallway.

“How could anyone carry such a horrible secret in their souls?” Yugi whispered, clutching at Yami desperately as he stared after the departing blonde.

“I don’t know, Yugi,” Yami said. “But after this, I’m even more determined to break through that shield. He needs someone . . . anyone . . . or he’s going to destroy himself.”

In the room, Marik had sunk back onto the bed, staring at the place where Malik had revealed the most horrible thing he had ever heard. Raped . . . at the whims of his own father? He stood suddenly and raced for the bathroom, falling to his knees to empty the contents of his stomach wretchedly, horror and pain flickering through him at the thought of what Malik had been through. And after that attack by Ushio . . . no wonder the boy had reacted so badly!

As he sat there afterwards, his forehead resting against the cool porcelain weakly, he found himself almost desperate to help the boy find some sort of peace. Whatever the pain he had gone through, it was nothing next to that which Malik had experienced . . . and he was slowly coming to realize that there was more at stake here than his own peace. What was at stake was his heart . . . which he had finally discovered he had lost to the lonely and pain-filled soul that had just left.