It's been over a year since I've posted a new chapter, and I'm so sorry for the long wait. The last year was fairly difficult for me, but things are finally looking up. That being said, I hope you'll enjoy this long over-due chapter.

Yu-Gi-Oh! and all related characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi

"We each need to make peace with our own memories. We have all done things that make us flinch."

― Surya Das

Chapter 10: Visions of Home

Marik sat down in the chair offered to him by Doctor Jonouchi. They had arrived at his office after taking a brief moment to show Marik where he would be sleeping. It didn't offer much more than the room he'd had in the Juvenile Ward, but it at least had a window, sink and toilet as well as a bed. Better than nothing, he supposed.

The boy looked over at his new doctor, watching as he skimmed over the file that Hassan had handed over. It was a few minutes before Jonouchi finished looking through it. He closed the file and took a seat behind his desk.

"Right. Forgive me if it takes a day or so to catch up on your session notes from Doctor Bakura. For now," he paused, "Are there any questions you have for me?"

Marik stared back at him, sighing a little, "When do I get to go home?"

Jonouchi frowned, "It could be a few days or it could be a few weeks, Marik. We need to make sure you're safe to be around other people before that happens."

"Oh. Right…" he muttered, looking off to the side.

"I know this hasn't been easy for you," He comforted, "Losing your father, losing a fellow patient, and then having to be shuffled off to a new doctor in a new building? It's alright to be upset about it."

Marik simply shrugged. He was staring out one of the windows, watching a nearby tree sway in the breeze.

"I guess I'm just not sure how I feel right now…" the boy stated, glancing at Jonouchi.

"That's alright too. Difficult situations can drain us of motivation; of energy."

Marik frowned a bit and shifted his focus back to the tree outside. Doctor Jonouchi sighed, sensing that Marik was pulling away from him.

"Were there any other questions you had, Marik?"

"I just…want to sleep now."

"You're not hungry?"

Shaking his head, Marik stood up, "Didn't sleep well last night…"

"Alright, I'll take you back. Come on."

The unfamiliarity of the room was unsettling. Water plopped from the faucet in the sink, echoing as it hit the rim of the drain, sliding down into the darkness of the pipes. There were a few places where a former occupant had scratched things into the paint on the walls. Small pictures, words, tally marks; most of it didn't make sense to him though. The door of the room offered little privacy, as it was very thick Plexiglas. Marik assumed it was so they could be watched at all times. He curled up on the bed, hugging his pillow tightly. Marik buried his face into it, listening to the occasional drops of water still falling in the sink. They seemed to get louder the longer he lay there.

Plip, plip, plip.

Ryou's face came to mind. His eyes glossed over; a film of tears around the rims. Blood crusted around his nose and mouth. That last, garbled, sputtering breath escaping from his throat…

"Stop it…"

Marik…Marik, what are you doing? Put that down!

"Stop it, stop it!" Marik screamed aloud. He clutched at his hair and pulled.

Plip, plip, plip.

Marik screamed again, the drops of water starting to drive him mad. He sat upright in the bed, about to throw his pillow at the sink when he saw someone standing at the other end of the room.

Plip, plip, plip.

Blood was trickling down, making a puddle near the person's feet. Marik slowly looked up at them; faintly noting that their arms were all scratched up. When he got to their face, Marik felt himself pause. There was a gash in the boy's neck, oozing down the front of his shirt. His bright green eyes bore into him from beneath streaks of gore leaden white hair. A garbled noise emanated from his throat.

"R-Ryou?"

Ryou said nothing, exhaling short, raspy breaths as he took a step towards Marik; stumbling as he moved closer. His hand reached out for the other boy; fingers dripping rubies on the floor. Marik made to scuttle backwards, only to hit the wall behind him almost instantly. When Ryou's hand was inches from his face, so close that Marik could smell and taste the tang of iron, he shut his eyes tightly and screamed.

The next thing he knew someone was grasping hold of his shoulders. He shrieked, slapping out at the person in front of him.

"Oi! Marik, it's alright!"

"Stop touching me!"

"Marik, its Doctor Jono. Take it easy!"

When Marik finally managed to open his eyes he realized that Ryou, had he really been there at all, was gone now. Shaking, the boy pulled away.

"Marik it's alright. Were you having a bad dream?"

"I….no, I'm fine. Please go…"

"Are you sure you don't-"

"I said go!"

Jonouchi regarded the boy with an air of mild frustration, "I can see where Hassan had his issues with you," He sighed rubbing his forehead, "Marik, please tell me what it is you saw."

"Nothing…I saw no one."

"Was it this 'other boy' you've seen before?"

"No…shut up…"

"Was it…what was his name? Atem?"

"I said shut up! Why do none of you ever listen to me?"

"Ignoring the problem doesn't make it go away, Marik. You want to get better, don't you?" Doctor Jonouchi asked him.

"I just want to go home! I don't care about anything else!"

Sighing, the doctor stood back up, "Well I hope you start caring soon Marik. You and I will have some things to discuss later, so you'd best start thinking on it. I'll be back in a little while, after you've had some time to calm down."

Marik glared at him as he turned to leave. The door shut behind the doctor with a loud click. The boy stared the door down a moment longer as the doctor walked away before chucking his pillow across the room. It landed a few inches from the door with a soft thump. Wincing a bit, Marik felt a dull ache in his side. It took him a moment to remember why the pain was there and he sighed. He lifted up his shirt to look at the five or so fist-sized bruises that were just starting to fade to yellow across his sides and chest: a memento that Ryou had left him of that day.

Marik lowered his shirt and stood up to retrieve his pillow from the floor. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that gave him pause. The undersides of his eyes were dark, no doubt due to his lack of decent rest. His hair was no better; looking like someone had run it through a wind tunnel. He'd have to ask for a hair brush later. Marik touched it lightly, frowning when he felt how dingy it was. His fingers slowly moved to the lines across his cheeks, the ones he'd carved with his own fingernails.

It was odd, but he almost looked older. Not by much, but there was something different about his face since the last time he had looked at it. Maybe it was the still fading scratches; maybe it was just because he was tired. Whatever the reason, something in him had changed. He sighed again before turning away from the mirror. He'd seen more of himself than he could stomach.

An hour later, Doctor Jonouchi returned to the room. It took him several minutes of coaxing to get him to leave the room, but Marik finally agreed to come with the blonde man.

Doctor Jonouchi paced the office for a few minutes as he flipped through Marik's file once again. The child watched him, his expression blank as the man continued to pass by him every minute or so. Finally, the doctor returned to his seat behind the desk.

"Right," he sighed, "Marik I'm going to run a few more assessments on you. From what I can see in your file, Doctor Bakura was not able to get time to properly work on your diagnosis. Nor did he finish your initial evaluation."

"Oh great, more tests…" the boy snorted.

"Tests that are going to help you-"

"They're wasting my time! I don't need tests, I need to go home!" Marik growled.

"I'm sure you've heard this before, but I can't let you leave until we've determined what is wrong, treat it, and get you stable enough to be around other people."

"More like drag me around through the dirt…"

The man seemed to ignore the child's remark, "Why don't we start with finishing your evaluation?"

"Whatever…"

"Now then," he paused, looking over the papers, "I believe this is where you left off at."

Doctor Jonouchi slid the evaluation to Marik across the desk, and he looked down at the questions he had yet to answer. The first of which, made the corner of his mouth twitch:

Do you ever feel separated from other people like it's you against them?

It was right after he'd tried to answer that question that he'd passed out. The day he'd first encountered Atem. A stabbing pain flared through his right temple, and he grimaced.

"Do I really have to finish answering these stupid questions?" He asked.

"That depends. Do you want to go home?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well I don't know Marik. You're reluctant to answer these questions, which speaks to your willingness to get better; to go home."

"What? No it doesn't! I just don't want to answer them!"

"But you have to answer them. Otherwise, how will we help determine where you're at mentally?"

Marik growled gripping the edge of the desk, "I don't care about that! I just want to be left alone. I can't even be alone in my room anymore with you watching me through those stupid cameras!"

"I'm sorry, but leaving you alone in your current condition is out of the question. Now I need you to finish answering the evaluation so we can move forward with your treatment."

"It's just a stupid series of questions! How are they supposed to help me?" He screeched, grabbing the paper off the desk and crumpling it into a ball.

Without a word, Jonouchi scribbled something down in the boy's file. Marik felt his anger flare up again, and he chucked the ball of paper as hard as he could at the doctor. It narrowly missed hitting him in the head. Frowning heavily, the man glanced over the paperwork at the boy who looked ready to grab something else to throw.

"Marik, if you throw anything else at me, I will have you placed in the Quiet Room for the rest of the night. Do you understand me?"

The boy glared, but said nothing. He lowered his hand back to his lap, reminding himself of what happened the last time he threw something at a doctor.

"Good. Now then," he paused to pick up the sheet of paper, "If you can finish these questions up for me, you can go back to your room. And you won't have to see me again for the rest of the day alright?"

Marik groaned and rubbed his eyes, feeling as though they were about to overflow. His chest was tight, and he wanted to scream. He tentatively reached his hand out and took the crumpled paper from the doctor, unfolded it, and stared down at one of the questions.

Do you ever feel separated from other people like it's you against them?

Marik checked the box next to it that said yes before shoving the paper back across the desk, sneering up at the doctor as he did so.

"Marik, finish the rest of the questions."

"You finish the rest of them! I'm not doing anymore!"

"And why is that?" the doctor asked.

Marik gripped the edge of the desk, hands shaking "Because I'm sick of this…all of it! I can't do this anymore!" he screamed, eyes brimming over, "I just want to go home!"

"Marik," Jonouchi sighed, "I know that you want to go home. I want that for you as well."

"Then why can't I just g-go?" he sobbed.

"Because that's not how this works. I'm sure Doctor Bakura told you-"

"Fuck what he said! Nothing he did helped me! And nothing you're doing is helping either!"

The doctor sighed, resting his forehead in his palm, "Marik, Hassan and I can only help you along so much. At some point, you have to start making strides to help you. Nobody can force that part of any treatment on you."

Marik was quiet for a long time; his anger becoming stagnant the longer he sat stewing over Doctor Jonouchi's words until it became but a dull ache in his chest and throat. Eventually he placed his arms on the desk and rested his head down in them. His mind was buzzing with hundreds of thoughts and none of them clear.

"Marik, if you're this upset over this evaluation session, we can do it another day. But I hope that you'll at least try next time."

He sighed, "I guess"

"Maybe you should try getting some rest again. I know you don't get nearly enough of it. Come on," he gestured, standing up.

"What's the point?" the boy muttered to himself, standing up as well, "Sleeping or not sleeping. It's just as bad either way."

The door to his room shut securely behind him, and he watched Doctor Jonouchi retreat back down the hallway. He waited a few moments before throwing a fist into the Plexiglas of his door. A dull 'thud' reverberated off the walls as he walked towards his bed and flopped down onto the mattress face first.

Plip, plip, plip.

I'm so angry all the time. Why am I so angry? I never used to be this way…

Plip, plip, plip.

Things used to be so much better before. He had the best siblings in the world. His father was an excellent teacher. And yet, something had gone wrong that day. Something he couldn't quite explain: his decision to take the knife upstairs with him. Even though he could recall the memory, Marik didn't feel as though it was truly his. There was a thin, mist-like veil surrounding it. One that had creeped into the forefront of his mind the longer he listened to the dripping of the faucet.

Plip, plip, plip.

A sob escaped his throat, as his thoughts circulated around the memory; around home. Marik clutched tightly at the sheets on his bed; fingers digging into the soft fibers as his body began to tremble. The droplets mirroring the emptiness he felt within.

Plip, plip, plip.

"Rishid…Ishizu…I just want to go home…" he whimpered.

"But Marik…you are home."

Startled by the familiar voice he sat bolt upright, only to spring back against a set of thick chains that were shackled around his wrists. Dumbfounded, Marik sat there, his mind racing at what to do. The boy pulled hard against the chains, but with them tethered so low to the ground, he could hardly move.

"My child, you know your struggle is meaningless. Still, it amuses me just how hard you continue to squirm…"

Flinching, Marik faced forward. There was Atem, lounging on a gilded throne. Perching like a tiger that knew its prey was moments from death. He was looking down at the boy, bemused; his chin resting on the back of his hand. Marik glared at him from where he was bound to the floor.

"I'm…I'm not scared of you anymore. I'm going to go home, and you're not stopping me!"

Atem grinned, exposing rows of razor sharp teeth, "Are you now?" the king asked, rising from his seat, "Because I'm quite sure I already informed you, Marik," he hissed, closing the distance between them, "this is your home. Here, with me."

Marik swallowed hard, feeling his arms go slack at his sides, "This is not my home…a-and I would never stay with you!" He screamed.

Atem snorted, bending down to the child's level. His hand brushed a stay hair behind Marik's ear, causing the boy to shudder with disgust. He snapped at the hand as Atem retracted it. Unperturbed, Atem reached down to a small, leather pouch around his hip. He pulled the drawstring open and removed from it a small plant pod. Marik looked over at it with confusion until Atem produced a dagger from his belt and sliced into the side of the pod. A thick, white liquid slowly beaded out from the cut. Before he could utter a word, Atem grabbed hold of the boy's chin, and pulled him closer. Marik could feel the man's hot breath washing over his skin, and he shivered.

"You cannot deny where you belong, Marik," the king purred, "No more than you can deny me."

Atem forced Marik's mouth open, making his jaw pop painfully; the claw-like nails digging into his skin. He held the pod above the boy's mouth and squeezed it. The milky substance dripped down onto the child's tongue. It was a sickly sweet taste. He would have pulled his head away, had the fingers gripping his chin not dug in harder. After a few minutes, Atem shut his mouth. Marik's teeth clacked together, and the liquid quickly ran down his throat.

The boy choked as some of it went down the wrong way. Coughing it back up, it dribbled down the side of his lip. Atem frowned, gently wiping the spittle from Marik's lip before again forcing the child's jaw open. He clutched the pod tighter; allowing more of the liquid to flow down into Marik's waiting lips. He squeezed the pod until it had started to collapse before he ceased. Atem closed the child's mouth more slowly this time.

"Swallow it. All of it."

Marik shook his head fervently, tears welling in his eyes. Atem growled, pulling the child's face closer to his.

"Do not disobey me, child," the king growled, his tone dangerously low, "Swallow it."

Sobbing inwardly, Marik shut his eyes, and forced himself to consume the liquid. His throat was so tight it felt as though he were swallowing a rock. When his mouth was clear, he gasped for air, not having realized he'd been holding his breath. Atem seemed satisfied; even planting a small kiss on Marik's nose.

"Good boy."

Still breathing hard, Marik glared at him, "What…what was that?"

Atem let go of the boy's chin; his face calm once more, "Something to help you relax."

"Re…relax?"

Marik's body was getting heavy. He felt so tired that he couldn't stay upright. He began to sway, pitching forward towards the floor. But it wasn't the floor that caught him. Atem held him in his arms, lightly stroking his shoulder-length, blonde hair. The king hummed to him as he unbound his wrists from the chains. Marik would have pushed him away and ran, but his strength was gone. Having been swept away from him as that liquid had slipped down his throat.

Warmth started to build behind his eyes, slowly spreading out to his arms, legs, fingers and toes. He was so pleasantly numb, he could hardly think. Marik shifted, laying his head on the king's shoulder, gently reaching a hand to touch his arm. Atem smiled and tilted Marik's chin up. The boy's eyes met with his as Atem brushed a strand of hair from his face.

"Don't worry, I'll take you to bed, Marik."

Marik blinked once, feeling himself rise upward as Atem lifted him off the floor. He glanced up at the man, who wasn't looking at down at him. His eyes were focused on something ahead of them. Marik shifted and saw Atem was walking towards a very large, luxurious looking bed that was draped in fine looking silks. All that the boy could think about was how comfortable that bed probably was, and how much he wanted to sleep.

Atem gently set him down, the mattress compressing lightly under his weight. Marik's eyes were so heavy now. He fluttered them open and closed; some part of him still fighting to stay awake. The boy turned his head and looked over at Atem. The king was seated next to him on the bed, watching him, stroking the boy's arm.

"It's alright Marik. Just give in to it. Rest."

"I…don't…"

Atem shushed him, placing a finger on the boy's lips, "Sleep, my child."

"But…"

Atem bent down to him, gently kissing him on the lips, "I promise, it's for your own good."

Marik's will to protest left him, completely swallowed up by the warmth that had consumed his whole body. He shut his eyes for a few moments, lying there in the peaceful glow. He only opened them again when he felt the bed shift. Atem was perched above him; the older man's body was inches from his. A strong hand cupped the side of his face, and Marik touched it lightly. He looked up at the king, feeling frail and weak under the gaze of those powerful, crimson eyes.

Atem's other hand grabbed hold of the boy's hip; stroking it gently through the fabric of his pants. Marik fussed from the feeling, but otherwise the king continued unhindered. Lips, hungry with desire latched onto his, and the boy whined as Atem's tongue brushed against his. Those sharp finger nails were ripping at his clothes, snagging and tearing them open. They dug into his flesh, slicing into his chest like razors. The pain seemed to awaken Marik's mind to the situation.

He squirmed, but could do little to deter Atem; his body still so weary. Marik shut his eyes again; the warmth in his limbs was muddied by the pain. He tried to scream, but could hardly utter a sound as the king deepened the kiss.

Atem finally relinquished his hold on the boy's mouth after several long minutes, and Marik gasped for air he'd been withholding. He breathed hard, looking up at the man hovering over him. The king had an animalistic hunger in his eyes, and Marik felt his heart starting to race. Even as he struggled to sit up, there wasn't anywhere to go. Atem made sure of that, shoving him back down on the bed as he tried.

"No running this time, Marik," He sneered, unlatching the clasp that held his cape.

The silken fabric rolled off his shoulders like a violet waterfall, landing silently in a heap on the floor. The man leaned down close to Marik's ear, his lips lightly brushing against the skin as he whispered to him.

"Now we will become one, my child…"

Marik didn't have time to answer before Atem claimed his mouth in his once more. Hands snaked around him, pulling their bodies closer together. Marik squirmed; his skin feeling like it was burning as the king's touches became more feverish. Mustering what little strength he still had, Marik pushed against the other's chest, pulling away from the kiss.

"S-stop…" he begged, eyes on the verge of overflowing, "Please…just stop…"

Atem frowned at the child. He brushed a stray tear that had fallen down the boy's soft cheek.

"Oh my sweet child," the king whispered as he leaned in close once more, "If only I could. But…I simply love you too much."

Atem pulled him in for a kiss once again, but Marik turned his head away trying to hold the king at bay as best as his shaking arms could. They gave out very quickly, and the man was upon him again. Limbs ensnared around him like serpents; clutching at him as though he were a prey animal. Marik could feel Atem's hold on him getting tighter by the second; choking the life out of him.

Their skin brushing against one another elicited a feral moan from the king. He pulled the child's lower half closer to his, rocking their hips together. Marik cried out, the sensations making his body shudder with disgust. That was all he could take, and the boy pushed against Atem as hard as he could. He soon realized, much to his abstract horror that he could no longer get away. As their bare skin touched one another's, it began to stick; forming together like clay or warm wax.

The boy's muffled screams echoed off the walls as he struggled to get out from under Atem. But the more he moved, the more their flesh amalgamated, and the less he could breathe; the king's mouth having formed a seal over his own. Marik was sure he would pass out for lack of air; was almost praying that he did so he wouldn't have to endure this anymore as Atem disintegrated into an ink-like substance, and began sinking into every pore of his body.

Marik shrieked, writhing on the bed, clawing at his skin as hard as he could. Marik tore at his own hair, ripping great chunks of it from his scalp. His whole being felt as though it was on fire; but he could do little to quench the feeling. He felt like he was rotting; tainted by the blood that was now inside him. He lay there, sobbing, as light footsteps approached him. Marik mustered one last ounce of strength to glance at the source of the noise. There stood the other boy; the other Marik.

"Why…why did you let him do this?"

The other Marik said nothing. He simply watched with a hint of remorse; lightly stroking a loose piece of hair away from Marik's face as he felt his mind succumb to the darkness.

His eyes snapped open to the view of the plain, white sheets of the bed. Marik quickly sat up, nearly falling back on the mattress as his arms shook. There was heaviness about his body that hadn't been there before, and it seemed to be originating in his stomach. With his legs like pudding, Marik hauled himself off the bed towards the nearby toilet. He'd only managed three steps before his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. Bracing himself on the bowl, Marik heaved once or twice before the vile taste of stomach acid burned the back of his throat.

After several minutes of coughing and spitting, the tremors in his abdominal finally subsided. Marik reached a shaking hand up to flush the toilet before resting his head on the cold porcelain; a string of spittle still hanging from his lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, and then brushed it off on his pant leg.

Marik sat there on the floor, just breathing for what felt like an hour until the door to his room opened, finally catching his attention. Marik turned to look at who it was, but didn't recognize them. They must have been on the staff though: they were wearing a doctor's coat. The man helped him off the floor, making sure he was steady before sitting him on the edge of the bed. He asked Marik if he was alright, and the boy explained he'd been ill, but made no mention of the nightmare.

The doctor touched his forehead, checking for a fever. The boy's skin was clammy, but otherwise felt cool to the touch. Marik would have shooed the hand had he the energy to do so.

"Do you think you're well enough for some fresh air?" The doctor asked.

Marik glanced at him, nodded, and stood up. He felt himself being ushered to the door, head still buzzing from the images running through his mind. He whimpered, massaging his eyes with the palms of his hands as they walked.

As Marik walked out into the fenced off yard, the first thing that struck him was that there weren't really any other kids around; at least, none that were his age. Most of them looked like they could have been Ryou's age or even older than that. A lump began to swell in his stomach, and he had to force himself not to feel like throwing up again. A few of the other patients looked at the boy, but otherwise paid him no mind. That was fine with him; some of them didn't seem like the type he should speak to anyway.

As he quietly shuffled over to the fence line, he kept his head down, losing himself in his own thoughts. The images of the dream were still crawling over him like swarms of ants, and he wanted nothing more than to scrub his skin raw in the hopes that the feeling would stop. He slowly sank to the gravel that covered the ground, grabbing at the edges of his shirt sleeves. Marik buried his face in his knees in an attempt to keep his sobs muffled. Unfortunately, it didn't stop someone from taking notice of him. At the sound of footsteps approaching him on the gravel, he glanced up.

"Are you alright?" asked the older man.

"I'm fine, leave me alone," he sniffed looking away.

The man extended his hand down to the boy, a handkerchief clutched lightly in his fingers. Marik glanced over at it, but otherwise paid it no mind.

"Go on, take it."

Sighing, Marik grabbed hold of the cloth and tugged it towards him. He frowned slightly when he saw that attached to it was another cloth. He tugged it again and there was a third one attached before he heard the other man starting to cackle at him and he let go of it, anger flaring up. Growling, Marik stood up and glared at the laughing man. He was tall, lanky, and his dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"It's not funny! S-shut up!"

The laughter died to an amused rumble as the man looked down at Marik.

"On the contrary young master I thought it was quite entertaining."

Marik snorted and turned to leave when the man grabbed his shoulder.

"Come on, surely you enjoy a good magic trick when it presents itself?"

Marik glared back at him, "Magic trick?"

"Why yes. I used to be quite the famous magician, you know! Pandora, the Great Illusionist!"

The boy rolled his eyes, "Good for you, now let go of me," he growled, pulling his shoulder away from the other's grasp, "And go bother someone else."

The older man feigned sadness, throwing his hand to his forehead, "Ah, but no one else around here enjoys a good show," he looked down at Marik with a smirk, "They're crazy, the lot of them."

Snorting, Marik looked around at the other patients in the yard when one sitting on a bench off to the side caught his attention. He had no hair or a shaved head, eyes staring blankly into space.

"What about that guy? He's not doing anything."

"Who isn't?" Pandora's gaze followed to where Marik was pointing and frowned, "You really are new here, aren't you? Everyone knows not to mess with him."

"Why? He looks like a lifeless doll to me."

Pandora smirked again, "Why don't you go take a stroll over there and say hello?"

A chill ran up Marik's neck as he looked over at the bald man sitting on the bench. He was staring out into space for what seemed like the longest time, almost like a statue. That made it all the more jarring when those dark eyes suddenly darted in his direction. Marik felt himself flinch when they locked gazes, and he nearly tripped over his own feet as he backed up. He frowned when he heard Pandora laughing behind him as he steadied himself.

"Okay, so he's a little bit creepy…"

"I'd watch out for him, young master. Especially since he has his eye on you now," he snickered, walking away.

"Now that he…"

Marik paused to look back at the bald man, and he felt that same chill skitter across his skin when he saw that those eyes were still locked on his.