Dark Roses

Disclaimer - (Sephiroth) She still doesn't own the characters or places in YuGiOh. I wish she did . . . then she might have a better chance of controlling that damn thief.

Author's Notes - Greetings, loyal readers. DracOnyx is currently . . . indisposed, so I, Sephiroth, am posting and doing Author Notes. No, she is not still in hiding because of the last chapter . . . rather, she has had a rather bad weekend and really isn't up to doing much of anything right now. Generally, finding out your husband considers your marriage over will do that to a person.
As for why it's me doing this, and not the thief . . . well, he is currently locked in his Soul Room to keep him from doing anything drastic. Ryou is busy trying to calm him down, so that leaves me and Malik to keep an eye on things. *shrug* Oh well.
At any rate, here is the next chapter for Roses. We hope you enjoy, and please review. Give Drac something to be happy about after all this shit.

Chapter 8 – Plans In Motion


The knock at her door startled her in the middle of her second turn about the living room, her hands clasped anxiously in front of her as Odion kept watch by the window.

The teachers in school had called her at work hours ago, claiming that someone had attacked her brother. Only one thing could come to her mind with those words, and the fact that the teachers hadn’t been able to tell her what had happened to Malik only worried her more. Had their father finally succeeded?

Odion moved to the door cautiously, his hand resting on the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. If it were the people their father had sent to collect them, they weren’t going without a fight. The only chance they had of rescuing Malik was if they stayed out of their father’s custody.

He pulled the door open, and then stepped back with a gasp as a young man, slightly taller and with hair just a bit wilder and more ragged than Malik’s stepped through the door, closing it carefully behind him.

“You’re Malik’s brother and sister?” he asked, violet eyes serious. Ishizu stepped forward anxiously, trying to ignore the fact that this boy looked so much like her brother that it was almost disturbing.

“You know my brother?” she asked, her voice hoarse with hope. The teenager nodded.

“I’m Marik . . . I go to school with him,” he replied. He nearly started out of his skin when the tall, graceful young woman before him stepped forward, taking both of his hands in an anxious grip, her face worried, her eyes pleading with him to give her answers.

“Is he safe?” she blurted out. “The school called and said . . .” He held up a hand, making her pause in the spill of words.

“He’s fine . . . my friends and I got him out of there safely. He’s holed up in a safe place right now . . . that’s why I’m here.” He had to catch her as she swayed on her feet, and handed her gladly to the older brother, who helped her gently to a seat, where she sat looking up at him with dark blue eyes. Was this whole family graced with unique coloring?

“Thank the gods,” she whispered, her hands clenching the material of her skirt into balls of fabric. “We had feared the worst . . .” She glanced up at him. “If you helped him, than you must know . . .” Marik nodded.

“He told us everything, after some persuasion,” the blonde said. He didn’t bother specifying exactly what Malik had told them, remembering that the boy had mentioned his sister and brother didn’t know about his prostitution. “We want to help . . . but we need your cooperation. We need you to leave Malik with us.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to speaking. “We’ll take care of him, I swear. But if your father is merely after him, you’ll be safer. And you’ll be helping us protect him . . . your father will expect him to remain with you. It will buy us some time to come up with a permanent solution.”

She listened quietly, her eyes dark. Malik wasn’t aware of it, but she was fully aware of why, exactly, her father was so desperate to get him back. She had snuck after them one night when her father had come to take Malik wherever he took him nightly . . . and she had been horrified. That was when she had begun planning their escape, really.

“Why?” she asked finally. “Why are you helping us?” Marik chuckled.

“You know, he asked us the same thing. I’ll tell you the same thing Bakura told him . . . we understand. My father beat me as a child . . . almost killed me a couple of times. Yami’s parents . . . well, they love him, but they’re never around. He wants a real family, and helping people is the way he gets that. Bakura . . . he’s an orphan now. His parents were killed in a crash about four years ago . . . before that, he hadn’t exactly been on the best terms with them.” He shrugged. “We’re just a bunch of hard cases that want to rescue the world, I guess.”

“I understand,” she murmured. “And I agree. . . it will lead our father away if we go. But I would like to see my brother . . .before we leave.” Marik nodded.

“That’s why I’m here, instead of just calling. He also wishes to see you both before he ‘disappears’ so to speak. While I’m here, I can pick up some of his stuff.” He watched Odion leave the room, and turned his attention back to Ishizu. “When you can, he’s at this address. Come by before you leave . . . but make sure you aren’t followed.” Ishizu took the paper gently, tucking it into her pocket carefully before looking back up at Marik.

“You look so much like him,” she said after a moment of studying him. “It’s uncanny . . . you could almost be my brother. Were it not for the way you spoke . . .” Marik shifted uneasily, shrugging after a moment of silence.

“Both my parents were from Egypt,” he said. “Family outcasts . . .banished from their relatives for who knows what. Or at least, that’s what I was told. I’m not sure whether I believe their reason for leaving their homeland . . . but that’s why I have your coloring.” Odion’s arrival from another room spared him more questions, the violet eyes narrowing in on the bag slung over the man’s shoulder.

“These are some of Malik’s clothing, and other essentials that he will need,” he said, handing the bag over to Marik. “I pray that you are telling us the truth . . . and that you will help to keep my brother safe. He has had a hard enough life as it is.” Marik nodded, silently agreeing with the man as he slung the bag over his own shoulder.

“You’ll see for yourself when you come to visit. Bring the rest of his stuff with you when you come . . . we’d like to make him as comfortable as possible. I suspect this will be hard enough on him as it is.” With that, he nodded silently to them before going back out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

“What do you think, Ishizu?” Odion asked quietly, after the blonde had left. Surprisingly, Ishizu smiled.

“I think that our brother has finally found someone who loves him more than us,” she replied, and left it at that.


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


“You can have this room, Malik,” Yami said, gesturing into the chamber. “This has pretty much become ‘my’ section of the house . . . everyone’s bedrooms are in this area. And it’s the closest to the kitchen and living areas . . . so you should have no problem finding your way around.”

Malik walked cautiously into the room, and lavender eyes grew wide. It was enormous! He padded across the cream colored carpet in a daze, looking in amazement at the dark paneled walls, the fireplace that adorned one side of the room . . . and mostly at the huge mahogany four poster bed that took up a sizeable amount of the floor. One hand reached out, softly caressing the cream velvet comforter disbelievingly as he took in the huge pile of pillows at the head of the king size bed.

“It’s . . . I . . . are you sure it’s not too big?” he finally got out. Yami chuckled slightly behind him, and he jumped a bit at realizing how close the other teen was to him. Yami was instantly apologetic.

“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to get so close without warning you,” he murmured. “And yes, I’m sure it’s perfect. This will be your sanctuary, after all. Decorate it however you like . . . this room has been empty for so damn long it’s about time it got some use.” He turned to leave, looking over one shoulder at the blonde still standing beside the bed, and smiled slightly before exiting the room.

In the hour since Marik had left, they’d come to a comfortable stability with Malik that was surprising considering how slow he’d been to trust them in the first place. As long as you didn’t get too close without warning, or touch him too much, he was comfortable.
He’d kept even Bakura on his toes with verbal sparring, even scoring a few un-returned points on his pale friend. And Ryou . . . well it was obvious Bakura’s lover was positively smitten with Malik. The youth had barely gone five steps away from the new addition to their group since his confession, and seemed to be the only person Malik would tolerate touching him for an extended period of time. Well, outside of Yugi.

Yami smiled at the thought of his own lover’s reaction to the blonde. Once Yugi had recovered from the horror of Malik’s tale, it hadn’t been long before he had approached Malik as Ryou had, with the gentle heart and soul that made Yami love him so much. And Malik had opened up to him, as he had to Ryou. It had been an amazing thing to see . . . after such a cold, hard shell, seeing the soul and heart that lay beneath that exterior was like discovering a rose in the middle of a thorn bush.

Malik had even managed to surprise him. It seemed the youth was a duelist as well as he and Bakura . . . and had one hell of a lethal deck to prove it. They’d started a game . . . and for the first time in history, it had ended in a draw. Even Bakura had never managed to force him to a draw.

His thoughts were interrupted as the front door opened, admitting Marik, with a bag slung over his shoulder.

“How is he?” the blonde asked without preamble, kicking the door shut behind him. Yami shrugged.

“He seems okay . . . but then, he’s very good at hiding his inner thoughts. I can’t really be sure how he is. But Yugi and Ryou seem to have struck the right chord with him . . . he’s opened up to them far more than to Bakura and myself. I put him in the first room on the right, down from yours.” He stopped his friend with a hand on one arm, crimson eyes serious as he looked into those violet eyes. “Marik . . . I know you’re falling for him. But this is going to be very difficult, for both of you. Go slowly, and move carefully . . . or you could lose him forever.” Marik shrugged off the restraining arm.

“I know that, Yami,” he replied. “I remember what I was like when you guys first met me.” The violet eyes darkened slightly, but he shook his head, banishing whatever memories had taken residence in his mind. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” Yami smirked at him.

“You better . . . or you’ll have Ryou and Yugi after you.” Marik smiled, shivering playfully in mock fear.

“Oh dear, then I guess I really had better be careful,” he said sardonically. Yami chuckled and continued on toward the den, where he had left the others to show Malik to a room, as Marik went for the bedrooms.


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


Malik stood next to the window, staring out at the darkening sky and wondering what would happen next. So much was happening, and so fast too . . . he could barely comprehend it.

What really surprised him was the strange peace that seemed to have enveloped him. After having told them his story, he’d expected anything but this sudden . . . emptiness. It was like a huge weight had suddenly been taken off his chest . . . they knew his history, knew what had been done to him, and yet they still accepted him. Liked him, even. Having spent so long afraid of people hating him or being disgusted by him, to find that he had been wrong was like a sudden ray of light in his otherwise dim existence.

He had friends . . . real friends. Yes, he barely knew them, and they him . . . but they were the first friends he’d ever had, and that was a thought that he held very close to his wounded heart. And they knew how he felt . . . in their own ways, they’d had their own difficult lives.

Lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear the door open behind him. He wasn’t even aware that he was no longer alone, until the person who had entered cleared their throat cautiously. He turned around quickly, lavender eyes widening slightly as he spied the bag in Marik’s hand.

“How are they?” he asked, moving forward to take the bag from his twin’s hand. “Are they okay?” Marik nodded, backing up slightly to give Malik his personal space. He didn’t want to crowd the kid.

“Worried about you,” he replied. “But otherwise they seem to be fine. They’re going to go with our plan . . . they’ll come over before they leave though.” He watched the lavender eyes darken slightly, and couldn’t help reaching out to rest a hand on one shoulder carefully. “We’ll take care of things . . . they won’t be gone forever,” he murmured.

Malik nearly started out of his skin with the contact, but managed to keep it down to nothing more than a slight shiver.

“I’ve never been without them,” he said quietly, dumping the contents of the bag out on the coverlet. He knew immediately that Odion had packed it . . . it contained a good majority of his clothing, all his essentials, and the few CD’s that he never wanted to be without, as well as a book of poetry his sister had given him one birthday. Ishizu would never have thought to include the CD’s or the book. “They’re the only real family I have.” He stared down at the collection of items, wondering what it all really meant, in the long run. Would he ever see his sister and brother again? Would he really ever be free of his father’s threat? Would he ever be free of what had been done to him?

He couldn’t hold back the sob that threatened to choke him, and he clenched his fists, fighting for control over his emotions as he leaned against the bed. He didn’t know what to do with himself, what kind of life he could have. He’d never known anything outside of what his father had made him into . . .

He felt arms come around him, holding him, and he fought down the urge that told him to get away, he was being trapped, someone was too close. They didn’t mean him any harm . . . he had to remember that. He couldn’t go through life being afraid of every touch, every embrace. But he couldn’t bring himself to return it either, so he remained stiff and unyielding, shaking uncontrollably as Marik held him.

Marik, for his part, tried to keep the embrace light and unthreatening. Malik wasn’t ready for anything more . . . he might never be. So much scarring covered the tortured soul in his arms . . . would he ever be able to recover from such darkness? He leaned down slightly, inhaling the light scent of lavender that lingered in the platinum blonde hair. When had he ever felt such pain at another’s plight? He’d never even cared about someone else’s problems before.

Malik . . . Malik was different. Something about him simply called to Marik, made him want to soothe away those hurts, take away the pain and scarring. Was this what love was? Wanting so badly to protect someone, to take their pain and make it your own? He didn’t understand it at all.

He was surprised when the body in his arms simply relaxed, sagging against him. He gasped, catching Malik up against him tightly, looking down to see the lavender eyes closed, tears glistening in tracks down the tan face. He’d passed out . . . too much had happened to him that day, he supposed. The emotional rollercoaster had probably overwhelmed him.

Picking the lithe form up carefully in his arms, he lay the limp figure carefully upon the bed, pulling the blanket back and out from under the boy before covering him again. He couldn’t resist one last caress, brushing the blonde bangs away from the face, his fingers gently brushing away the tears that lingered on the aquiline features.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he whispered, and then left the room before his heart pushed him into doing more than Malik was probably ready to handle. He couldn’t bear it if the youth drew back behind the emotional walls he’d built.