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Never Rid of You	By : rubyeyesandebonwings Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1638 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
- 3
A/N: Hello again, and welcome, to another installment of Never Rid of Me. I would like to thank everyone who has read it so far, especially those that have had to put up with my newbish glee to writing my first fic. I'm still flustered from actually receiving reviews, and so I'm back a bit sooner than even I thought I'd be! Woo!

I would also like to point out that the main reason besides my indulgence for writing this fanfiction is because most of us know Yu-Gi-Oh! deserves a darker side than just tossing kids at the hand of an albino-looking tomb robber to the Shadows just isn't good enough. Of course, any more and they'd have some lawsuit on theinds nds I guess. I dunno.

But I like putting a serious face on this piece, as I rp Malik on Yahoo im, along with Seto and Otogi. And dammit I like my rp mature, long, and with a side order of bish. ...Sounds like some twisted sex with whipped cream. >__>

The following story HAS contained: NCC death, severe violence (or innuendo to such), and angst

The following story WILL contain: Swearing (?), mature scenes, much self love/hate from our favorite little Egyptian, and angst> Good ole angst!

Spoilers: maybe
Pairings: Malik x Mariku
Lemon in this chapter: Only Shounen-Ai, it hurts me to say.
Chapter: (2/6?)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! nor the characters involved in this work of fiction. This has been written without motive for profit or violation of copyrighted material, and the writer has only created this work for personal amusement to be shared with others. Yay. That saves my ass. Again.

On with the fic!!

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Chapter Two: Resolution

Much of the afternoon had been spent in the belly of stone walls, Rishid and Isis in the embalming chamber. It would be another two and a half months before they could even think of leaving, and in the meanwhile, that gave the Ishtar siblings time to get their possessions together.

As the older two assisted the corpse of their father and mentor with their washings, Malik proceeded to watch from a spot at the wall. Neither of them would allow him to touch the body, not that he wanted to anyway. Still, he remained there in the same room as this man that he had, for one instance, loathed with all his being. Lilac hues were detatched from the scene at hand, and instead he was lost in his own little world.

His Soul Room, to be precise.

At the base of one of eight pillars that rounded the room, walls laced with pictures and glyphs from his learning, he sat there crying. Not two feet from him was the beginning of the octagonal bathing pool, waters crystalline and soft, inviting him to the inky depths with its stillness. At the other end of the room was the primary archway, on either side a lamp that burned old sages and herbs as well as cast their grace in warming orange upon sandstone walls and alabaster stretches of support. At that entrance, another youth was standing, watching.

Disgusted.

I was engendered by... this? He won't stop crying... I did exactly as he willed of me and he won't stop crying. What a child!

Glossy orbs picked up at the sound of a low growl, breath refusing to get out of his lungs save in twisted, quiet sobs at what fell in to his vision. ...Was he dead? There was another here, looking just like he but...

"Your hair..." he choked out, making a swipe at his face with a manila, rough cotton sleeve.

"Is better than yours," was offered out by a serrated voice that startled the smaller boy still huddled in his blanket of shadows on the far end of the room.

For certain he was timid, judging by the way his voice wavered in is dryness, but there was a tender fascination to lace with his question. "...Are you me?"

Pain flashed through his throat as soon as he tried to speak, the smirk bore upon his young face fading away. How was he supposed to answer...? This question he pondered on, hunting for words in a silence that lingered between them. At last... "...Yes."

Needy fingers stuffed themselves into the air, stretching way for the spiky-headed other that had made way to this sacred place. It hardly crossed his mind to stop before he found himself sweeping across the room on bare feet to get to this pouting, puffy-eyed child and claiming seat in front of him. Malik made no hesitation in crawling into the space left between them, enfolding himself tightly against a self he perceived as the future.

Tears started again, and as the pair of them sat there in the deepest workings of his soul, there was still bafflement to the taller of the two.

What am I doing? I should be yelling at him for being stupid and crying so much. ...But this part of me... fra fragile part of me...

This nessness...

Arms enclosed about the trembling form of a boy not even twelve, knowing so little in how to console him. At least he wasn't screaming about this, or nerves would have boiled thin too long ago. He could hold him, in tilenilence, at least.

"You're so pathetic," the darkness murmured to the one he held, silvery lilac hues regarding the star printed ceiling. It occurred to him how much he as aching to see the sky again. Even so, the embrace of the shadows that were amongst them too was so inviting.

The small Egyptian boy had heard him, but responded only with tightening his small hands to the folds of the other's robes, refusing to be severed from an embrace he sorely needed. "...If I cried out there, I really would be..." came a frail return under the mass of sun silk that concealed how red and swollen his eyes were.

He only smirked, fingers enclosing in that soft mass of pale hair and upon a knobby shoulder. "True enough," he agreed quietly. "But, I wouldn't be here, if you were stronger."

Weari was was closing fast upon the boy's mind, but now too were many questions. "Will you go away, once I am...?"

Realization set in, staring with large eyes down to the pair of lotus blossom orbs that pleaded with him. Asked... what, of him? To hold him in a time when those closest to him were afraid of him? It was... innocent.

I will cease to exist when he has no longer a need of me...

"Malik?"

His head shot up at the voice of his sister, gaze both on her and lost in the haze of numbness that had swamped his waking form. Worry was clear on her face as her eyes drifted to Rishid, whom was in the middle of closing one of the canopic jars. They exchanged a glance between hazel and midnight.

"Malik," Isis repeated, making sure his attention was still with her, "Go take a bath. Rishid will come help you in a little bit alright?"

There was only a brief nod from the pre-teen against the wall before he leaned off of it. Instead of taking down the hall, though, for the underground spring, he approached the corpse that was still being treated on the table. His older brother paused in washing his hands in the clay basin beside him, blinking down to the boy. Tiny had ard ard around to the cold, captured face of his father, taking hold upon the gold geometric earrings that still glinted with their heritage.

There was a gasp of, "Malik!!!" from the pair on either side of him. How could the boy still feel such resentment for their father, enough to be that brutal with his remaining Ba?

He gave no response, only palmed the earrings against his chest as he shuffled off for the springs.

Both of them stared in his waksis sis knew the dangers of the Items that were in their care, and it shook her to the core that her precious brother had come into such a violent meeting with the power of the Shadows. At his age, the mind and soul could so easily be corrupted, and it was a wonder that the dreadful force that had appeared that morning resided in him had not stayed. Midnight hues drifted to the man opposite her, to the self infliction of his honor and loyalty to their family - and more importantly to Malik.

"Me?" Silvery lilac hues snapped down to the charge in his arms, only fastening his grip to the child. "...What happened?"

"Nothing, weak one," he assured quietly, lowering his face into the mass of pale soft hair.

If he thinks he needs me, I'll never have to leave... I could become... more than what he is, and I am now.

That freedom, that little taste of it... No oesereserves it more than we do.

"Weak one," was gentle, but hollow question in his voice, the smaller boy releasing a noise of attention. "Do you like pain?"

The more she thought about it, though, the less she was surprised. Malik was such a vibrant spirit, and she was sure that the light of him would glow most bright. She scanted her eye toward Rishid, still going about the ritual of preparing the body for its draining. That force had stopped as soon as Rishid sat in his gaze... Of course, Malik clung to him as much as any child with a favorite stuffed animal, and the youngest Ishtar had no such chance to develop such human concepts.

She drew one conclusion: the Darkness was never sfiesfied, and for that reason the Shadows that had come to Malik's heart would need reason to stay at bay. "Rishid... I'll be right back. I have to tend to something."

"Do not lose yourself in the power of the Tauk, Mistress Isis," he warned gently, not looking up from his task.

Only gazing at him in a notch of surprise, shoulders sagged in relief that he understood. With that, she turned heel and started for the chamber that held the items.

I have to know what will become of Malik's Darkness. At his age, he can't control it... Were Rishid not there, I'm not sure anything would have stopped him.I>
I>

Malik made a feeble shake of his head. "No, I don't... I won't ever want to be hurt again."

You are, indeed, so disgraceful... Humans crave to live, and pain is a very real identifier to that life... People -need- pain...

"The Pharaoh hurt my father so much he died... But why?" Those endlessly hopeful lavender hues drifted up to the one holding him, brows knitting in his yearning for answers. "He was only doing His will. I hate him for it, but that was his duty, and it will be mine. I don't want it to be! I don't want to hurt anyone like tha--"

He was quieted with a gentle kiss to his cheek. Honestly, the dark being holding him didn't want to hear that squeaky complaint and desperation in the other's voice. It was too much unlike himself. It was dawning upon him, like the same disk that flooded the horizon with its grace before sliding over the entire world. Everything this child was, he could never be, and so it wacompcomplement to his being.

"Then become Pharaoh. You have one of the Items already, and the Tauk is here. Five more. When you're Pharaoh, you won't have to be hurtHis His name any more."

Where he crumbles, I shall thrive...

Where this darker being saw opportunity for trouble, the young Malik only saw hope with those immensely human hues. It almost made the other's heart ache to see him so naive. At the same time, this new control was...

...thrilling.

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Never Rid of You