Back for another chapter, eh? I knew you couldn't resist my hypnotic writing powers. Haha, jk. Here we go!

Mariku had taken Bakura up to his bedroom and put him into bed to rest. The sandy-blonde noted the blade sitting on his nighstand and shoved it away in the drawer of the bedside stand. He pulled the covers up over Bakura and laid next to him on the bed.

The tomb robber just laid there and stared out the window. Suddenly, he felt the warm sensation of Mariku's lips on the nape of his neck. The thief turned towards his lover and returned the favor as his own pair charted its own course on Mariku's neck.

The keeper brought Bakura's lips to his own longing pair and kissed him intensly. His hands wandered up and down the begging thief's sides under his shirt. He reached down for the other pants with a smirk on his lips.

Bakura reached down and took hold of his hands. "You have to wait." Mariku took him again without second thought. The thief was too occupied to notice that his lover had reached to the nightstand and had pulled something from the drawer.

Suddenly, a seering pain coursed through him from his torso. He fell back on the bed clutching his stomach in pain. He looked back at Mariku who was standing at the end of the bed with a bloodied kitchen knife in his hand.

Bakura was in terrible pain and there was a crimson stain everywhere, even Mariku was saturated in his blood. Bakura was on the edge and fell backwards off of the bed. Mariku hovered over him with a sly grin on his face. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He said with sarcasm heavy on his tone.

"What the fuck was that for?" bakura gasped for air as he felt his chest tighten. He lifted his blurred vision to the keeper that hovered over him and was laughing at his expense. "I'm tired of playing with you. I'm bored. Later," He said and walked towards the door.

The form's face changed between two, Mariku's and Malik's. Bakura was horrified and confused. "See you in hell, Bakura." He smirked and disappeared into thin air.

"Bakura…" A whisper filled the mansion and Bakura could hear it, his name was being called, but from where? He peered down at his blood stained hands and appeared to be on the verge of tears. "Bakura….wake up…." The voice echoed.

The thief opened his chocolate eyes and through blurred vision made out a human life form. His head was aching terribly. "Come on, Bakura. Wake up already." The voice echoed in his head.

His vision cleared and he saw Mariku hovering over him, and was holding a cloth to his aching head. He was dabbing at his forehead with the wet cloth and had the thief's head propped up on his lap. "Are you all right, Bakura? You were jerking about and at first I thought you were having seizures." Mariku smiled out the corner of his mouth at his lover.

Bakura winced slightly and reached up to his forehead to only feel a large swollen mass developing. "Sorry," Mariku appologized and tried to dab at the mass more carefully.

"What happened?" Bakura inquired groggily. Mariku set the cloth aside in the bowl of cold water that he had rushed upstairs with. "As I said before, you were twitching about and you rolled right off of the bed and smacked your forehead on the nightstand. I thought you weren't going to wake up." Mariku explained.

Mariku poked at the large bruised mass on Bakura's forehead. "That's a pretty ugly lump on your head." Bakura pushed his hand away. "Knock it off," he said most agitatedly. "Is something wrong? You seem upset or something." Mariku inquired of the perturbed robber.

"It's nothing…"

"Fine, I won't pry into your business." Mariku pushed Bakura's head off of his lap and walked downstairs with the bowl of water and cloth. He set the dish in the sink and stalked into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch and turning on the television to watch something.

He flipped through the channels and came across the Jerry Springer Show, which he had never actually watched and it so far seemed to be interesting. He sighed deeply and got comfortable on the couch as he watched the guests of the show fight between one another.

Bakura meanwhile was up in Mariku's room still thinking about the horrible nightmare he had encountered during his sleep. It felt so real that at first he never would have guessed that it was just a dream. He made his way downstairs and stopped in the living room where Mariku was watching with interest flaring in his eyes as he listened to the booming speakers and the fighting. "That's right, you tell that whore!" He yelled at the television.

Bakura sat next to Mariku on the couch. The keeper was wary of him and turned down the sound of the speakers. "I'm sorry, is the noise giving you a headache?" Bakura shook his head and leaned back into the leather couch.

"Do you want to know what I was dreaming about?" He inquired nervously of the other. Mariku turned off the television and sat up on the furniture. "Huh? This is all over a dream?" He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Bakura who seemed like he was uneasy and confused. "Well, I don't wna to pry and make you uncomfortable, even thought that is my greatest pass time," he joked.

Bakura gave him an uninterested look. "Eh, what the hell," Mariku commented quickly. Bakura sighed and thought of a place to begin. He thought that he might as well explain the whole dream and not only the most grusome bits of the nightmare alone.

"Well, you and I were up in your bed and we started kissing one another in a playful way." Mariku snickered at the very thought. "How is that such a nightmare?"

Bakura glared at him for joking while he was trying to unload his dream onto the other. "Just shut up and listen. Anyways, we were just getting into it when you stabbed me with a kitchen blade. I was dying and you said you were bored of me. Then suddenly, your face changed back and forth between your own and Malik's. You had left me to die."

Mariku was surprised that Bakura had had such a vivid dream and about something as busy as that. Mariku brushed Bakura's hair from his eyes and back behind his ears. "Well, thank god it was only a dream right? I mean, I would never do anything as serious as that to you." Mariku explained.

"I know you wouldn't," Bakura returned. He actually smiled a normal smile. Not an evil one; or a sexy one, even though any smile he gave was sexy; and not even a freaky one, it was actually normal.

Mariku looked really surprised that Bakura was this docile. It was unlike him to ever be this way. "Did you really smack your head that hard?" Bakura smile disappeared and again came the uninterested look that he was quite fond of giving. "Hmph…I'm never smiling again and I'm going to be an ass hole for the rest of my life."

"No, no, no. I don't mind, its just that you were actually smiling in a normal way and for a moment there you seemed so loving and understanding. That's just not like you."

"Whatever," Bakura replied coldly and stood from the couch. "Its nice to see you this way…" He whispered. Bakura heard him and glanced back at Mariku as if he were the one with the lump on his forehead.

"He should get smacked on the head more often," Mariku thought to himself and was unaware that his face had taken on a light hue of red.

Bakura was still weak from when he had attempted suicide earlier, and was showing signs of collapsing. Mariku leapt up from the couch and caught him as he began to fall. "I'm fine," Bakura hissed.

"I think you need to go lay down." Mariku suggested.

"No, I don't…"

"You do." Mariku gave him a very evil look as he said this.

"No." Bakura gave him an equally evil look.

"Yes," Mariku said giving him an even more frightening and threatening look. Bakura knew this could go on for hours, and at the moment he was not interested in squabbling with the other over something as stupid as getting a little bit of rest.

"Fine, just get off my back." He surrendered.

"That's what I thought you would say," he said with a grin on his face.

I know this is a short chapter, and I appologize for that, but I am having a hard time thinking of what to write at the moment. Laterz!