#ygotp

"Thanks," Ryou murmured as he took the mug from Ishtar. "It hasn't been morning for several hours, Marik." He sipped his tea, Ishtar pulling another chair closer to lean into Ryou now.

The Egyptian waved his hand. "You know what I mean."

"What do you mean?" Bakura rubbed at his face, propping his hip against the table. Marik beamed at him and poured a cup of coffee he'd prepared just for Bakura. He grunted his appreciation as he sat with the others.

"Ryou was pointing out that we're all lazy bitches." Ishtar's words were muffled in Ryou's hair, making the Brit twitch as his breath tickled against his neck. "I want to go on a walk."

Marik set plates down in front of them, going back to the kitchen for Bakura's and his. "It's almost night. You want to go now?" Ishtar nodded, poking at his plate with his fork. Bakura and Ryou tucked into the meal at least. "The snow probably didn't melt much today. If you want to, I'll go with you." Marik shrugged. "After I eat." Bakura and Ryou made general noises of agreement around their food, their plates quickly cleaned. Marik finished and frowned to see Ishtar hadn't eaten much. "I'll save this for you for later." He received a soft smile before Ishtar and Bakura disappeared to get dressed, Ryou helping Marik clean up. "Do you think he's okay?"

Ryou shook his head. "No, but I think he will be. He's really strong. He had to be." Marik sniffed and Ryou bumped his hip into him. "Worrying won't help things. Let's get changed or else they'll leave us behind."

The four men trudged down the slushy sidewalks to the park where they'd had their earlier snowball fight. To Ryou, the difference between the carefree fun and the weight of their spell and its effects felt like ages apart. His heka was drained and he prayed he wouldn't need to use it for awhile.

Marik held Bakura's hand as they walked, as though he was afraid to let him go. They had almost lost him to the shadows, so in a way his fear wasn't unreasonable. Bakura tolerated the clinging, even squeezing Marik's fingers in reassurance. He was still tired, his energy zapped from the spell for Marik and then stolen when the shadows left him. Bakura wrinkled his nose and pulled Marik's hand to his lips, brushing a thankful kiss over his knuckles.

Ishtar bounced between all of them, alternately leaning on them but always returning to the front of their group, only halting once he found a large patch of undisturbed snow. The streetlights gave everything a warm glow and he nodded to himself as he tugged off his scarf and coat.

Ryou scooped up the items, looking at Marik and Bakura. "Asadi? You'll catch a cold."

His shirt landed where the other pieces had been, leaving his torso bare. A small sound escaped Marik when he saw the darkened scars, Bakura turning his body as though he would protect Marik if needed. Ryou picked up the shirt as well. Ishtar turned to face them and spread his arms out. "I won't." With that, he dropped back into the snow, sighing in relief at the coldness against his burning scars.

His clothes fell from Ryou's arms as they all rushed forward only to find Ishtar with a peaceful smile on his face. "You ass," Bakura grumbled. "Scared us to death just to make fucking snow angels." He didn't notice as a shadow curled around his ankle until he was sent sprawling into the snow next to Ishtar. "Motherfucker!" Ishtar only chuckled, sending dark tendrils out to caress Ryou and Marik and coerce them into the snow as well.

"This is the stupidest..." Marik fussed as he stretched out in the snow. "Do we really have to do this? It's cold!" He rolled closer to Bakura, tucking himself against his side much as he'd wanted to do in bed before finding Bakura gone.

Ryou's fingers touched Ishtar's cheek, propping himself on his elbow to look down at him. "Is this how it's going to be now? You can use shadow magic without an Item?" The shadows moved around them, blanketing them from sight, the darkness playing with the light. Bakura's breath hissed over his teeth, but Ishtar kept the shadows from completely closing over them, ensuring Bakura would always have some light.

"I, I think so." Ishtar watched Ryou's hair fade from a light grey in the shadows to a warm orange in the street lights and back once more. "Does it bother you?" The Brit shook his head, dropping down to kiss him once before laying his cool cheek on Ishtar's warmer bare shoulder. Eventually even Marik's complaining stopped and Ryou rolled to his back, catching glimpses of starlight between the shadows and light pollution. His voice started soft, the tenor's half-remembered hymn drifting over them, Bakura's rougher baritone joining in the parts he knew from Ryou's memories. "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I'm found. Was blind but now I see. 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear And grace my fears relieved. How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed."

Ishtar sighed as Ryou's last note faded. "That's what it feels like. Just like that. Like even through the shadows, I've been found. I found who I am, what I am." He pulled the shadows back into himself, the lights glowing brighter without them. Bakura nodded in agreement next to him. "I'm not lost anymore."

"None of us are," Marik offered. "But I'm going to freeze to death if we don't get out of this snow." They laughed at him, the noise light and happy in the city's snow-draped hush.

Ishtar screamed into the void of the Shadow Realm. "BAKURA! Bakura, you idiotic bastard! Stop hiding and face me!" His cloak whipped around his legs from the storm of his own fury. Everything they had worked for, the nearly normal life they'd built, and these fucking shadows thought they could steal it from him? Ishtar, not Bakura, was the shadows and they would bend to his will. "BAKURA!"

"You don't even scream my name in bed, so why all the ruckus now?" Bakura's reddened eyes almost glowed in the darkness as he appeared before Ishtar. "You're either fearless or stupid. Probably both." He patted Ishtar's cheek, grinning. "It's your other self's fault, you know."

"Marik. His name is Marik." He tilted his chin up, away from that cold hand, not trusting yet that those nails wouldn't go for his eyes.

"Which was your name once."

"Not anymore." His hand snapped out, grasping Bakura's wrist and clenching until he could feel the bones grind together. "Let him go."

Bakura growled, dissolving his arm into shadows to free himself. "Why should I? I have been the shadows' for three millennia. Why should I finally be free?"

Ishtar moved closer, grabbing Bakura's arm again. "You've done your penance and Zorc is dead. You no longer are the darkness. You haven't been for years. You’re loved now."

"Love?" Bakura laughed, catching a fistful of Ishtar's cloak, the golden chains rattling. "Life isn't a fucking movie. Love does not conquer all. Only children believe in that and we, evil bastard assholes like us, we didn't have the luck to have childhoods."

"Because we were never children. We were created by those damn Items but we aren't ruled by them anymore. The shadows don't answer to you, djinni."

"If I had my Ring-"

Ishtar shook him. "But you don't. It's not yours. It was never yours. You belonged to it but now you belong to us."

Bakura screeched at the insult to the Ring, his Ring. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Ishtar's cloak wrapped around them, Ishtar's arm encircling Bakura's waist to hold him fast. "I am the darkness." His own eyes shone in the gloaming. "The part of you that was shadows, the part that was Zorc, died when he did. I, however, was born of shadow magic and rage and pain and blood. I am the darkness now and you are just a pretender." Bakura scoffed and squirmed in his embrace. Ishtar's voice went velvet soft, seduction in the order he expected to be obeyed. "Release him and come into me." The shadows comprising Bakura struggled, scratching at Ishtar's shoulders and chest, hissing and cursing in Bakura's voice. Ishtar didn't budge. "He is ours. Let him go. Use me." Bakura's chest heaved as he drew air into his lungs, eyes jewel red and vacant. Ishtar caught his chin, tilting his face up, lips ghosting over Bakura's. "You are ours, Bakura. Let the shadows be mine alone."

Bakura stirred first, mahogany eyes blinking up at the ceiling. Marik dashed off the sofa to his side, pulling Bakura's head into his lap, lavender eyes searching his face worriedly. "Bakura? Is it... What happened?" Bakura's fingers lifted, touching the light bruises on Marik's throat.

"The shadows..."

Ryou knelt as Ishtar's side, rubbing his shoulder away from his scars. "They're gone, aren't they?" Bakura nodded, tearing his eyes from Marik's to look at the other two next to him. Ishtar groaned without waking. "They're in his scars now." Bakura nodded again because he didn't trust his voice. Ryou's jaw clenched, eyes watery, waiting for Ishtar to awaken.

It had taken all three of them, but they eventually got Ishtar moved into his bed. Ryou refused to leave his side, smiling softly at Bakura or Marik when they would come in. The apartment fell quiet as Bakura and then Marik went to bed, Ryou still sitting vigil as Ishtar slept.

As the room began to lighten with the next day's dawn, Ishtar lifted his head, propping himself on his elbows and staring at the pillows. Ryou's hand hovered over his back. "Asadi?"

"Don't touch them yet." Ishtar cleared his throat, trying to generate some saliva to coat his dry tongue. "They burn." He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Where's Bakura?"

"Sleeping. Marik is too." Ryou gently ran his palm over Ishtar's hair. He reached for a glass of water with his other hand, offering it. "How were your dreams?"

Ishtar drank until the glass was empty and handed it back. "Dark. Don't suppose that's a surprise." He sighed and rested his head on the pillows. "I feel like I made the negative confessions for all of us and wasn't found worthy of Aaru or Ammit's jaws."

"I thought you didn't believe in the gods, love." Ryou slipped from the bed to open the curtains, brow furrowing at how even in the early morning light, the shadows clung to his scars.

"I don't. I, I didn't." Ishtar rolled to his back, wincing at the contact and forcing himself to lay still. His eyes opened to the ceiling and Ryou sighed in relief that they were still his favorite shade of amethyst. "After I cast Bakura out of the Shadow Realm, the darkness and I merged. It wants... It wants pain. I can give it that."

"Your scars." Ryou settled on the bed next to Ishtar's hip.

"Yeah. I'm not Marik. I like when they hurt." He lifted one shoulder. "Didn't expect them to hurt this much though." He lifted his hand to trace the discoloration under Ryou's eyes. "You haven't slept. Come here." Ishtar opened his arms, inviting Ryou closer. The other man hesitated. "You won't hurt me or my scars. Come here, fa’r."

Ryou's white hair spread over his back as he laid his head down on Ishtar's chest. "I was scared we would lose you."

He knew there was something wrong in this, even as his brain tried to rationalize it. Bakura was probably in the bathroom and Marik simply couldn't see the light under the door. Bakura went out to the bakery for a surprise breakfast. Bakura... Bakura never got out of bed without kissing Marik. Careful not to disturb the others, Marik slipped out of the bed, rummaging through a drawer for a pair of boxers and tugging them on before stepping into the hall. "Bakura?" He pulled their bedroom door shut behind him. "Bakura?" The shadows in the hallway were deeper, thicker than in the bedroom. A coldness seeped into Marik's skin. He pressed his hand to the wall as he progressed to the living room, eyes straining in the dark. He knew these shadows and yet he couldn't admit it to himself. "Bakura?"

No one had moved the furniture back after the spell. If Marik hadn't grown up underground, he doubted his eyes would have adjusted enough to pierce the black. Sitting in the middle of their broken circle, Bakura watched Marik approach, his grin sharpening, a predator luring his prey. "Marik."

The Egyptian felt for the light switch, not surprised when several clicks still didn't result in illumination. He stepped through the dark, focusing on the lighter patch in the shadows he hoped was Bakura. "Why didn't you call for me when the light went out? Any of us? Did you leave your flashlight in the bedroom?" There was a reason, there had to be a mundane reason on why Bakura, who had been terrified of the dark since returning from the Shadow Realm, would be sitting in a pitch black room. Marik's head refused to accept anything more than an ordinary reason, though his heart gave a painful lurch and he knew.

Bakura chuckled, his voice deeper, rougher somehow in the shadows. "You sound worried. For me? Your heart was always too pure." Marik heard something drag over the floor and he grimaced, unsure if he'd rather the noise be Bakura's nails or a knife. "Why should I be frightened of darkness when I am the very darkness itself?"

With those words, Marik's legs wavered. They were back on the KaibaCorp blimp, years past, and he'd been burned out of Ryou's mind and Bakura was burning, burning and disappearing in the smoke and he'd said... Marik swallowed thickly, the present rushing back to him. "You aren't. You aren't. Zorc was defeated. He's not part of you anymore."

"So sure, are we?" That scraping sound made Marik cover his ears. "What did you think would happen when the shadows were released from your scars? Are you so stupid you think love would save the day?" Bakura tipped his head back and laughed loud enough for the noise to echo in the apartment.

Marik's heart stuck in his throat as he dropped to his knees. "Shut, shut up! We didn't bring you back!" Icy fingers lashed out and grabbed Marik's throat, a dagger sharp nail caressing his jaw. "No, but you let me go." The grip on his throat squeezed and Marik's fingers scrambled to loosen the hold. "In your own selfishness, you condemned me back to the shadows. Where I belong."

A choked whimper snuck out of Marik's mouth as he tried to push Bakura's shoulder. "I didn't ask for it, but yes! Yes! I lived with constant pain for over ten years; yes I took the first chance at ending it. Ten years, Bakura!"

Bakura, or the shadows controlling him, lunged for Marik, his head slamming back onto the floor, pinning him by his neck. He leaned down into Marik's face, silver hair falling around them. "Three thousand years! Three thousand years of listening to the screams of my family as they were melted, melted, Marik, not burned, melted. You don't know pain. You know games and fear and a little boy's nightmares. You know NOTHING!" His hold on Marik's throat tightened, screaming in his face. It was enough to make Marik fight, to push at his chest, to pull his hair, to kick his legs, anything to try to dislodge the darkness masquerading as his lover.

The sudden release of the pressure at his throat was accompanied by a soft wash of golden light from the edge of the room. Marik pushed himself to his feet, coughing into his elbow, as he watched Ishtar tackle the shadow Bakura to the floor. Ryou stepped beside him, one of their black candles in his hand. "Fuck," Ryou whispered and Marik could only nod as they waited for Ishtar to get control over Bakura. They both hissed as a slap from Ishtar forced Bakura's face to the light, his irises a vicious red instead of the warm mahogany they knew. "Fuck."

A crack resonated in the room as now the back of Bakura's head met the floor. He growled at Ishtar, teeth bared. "Let him go." Ishtar crouched down closer to Bakura's face, seemingly unaffected by the shadows. "He doesn't belong to you anymore. Let him go. He's ours." Bakura laughed, the sound distorted. Marik threaded his fingers into Ryou's, the other murmuring as he tugged Marik closer with him. "You can't have him. Not now. Not again," Ishtar growled. "He's ours!"

Black wax from Ryou's candle dripped onto Bakura's forehead, making him flinch, confused red eyes blinking up at him. "...Ryou? Ishtar?" Marik fell to his knees next to Bakura's head, stroking his hair back from his face. "Marik? Marik, it's dark. Marik, the shadows... It's dark, it's so dark." Marik thought he would still be drained from the ritual, but fresh tears gathered in his eyes as he pet Bakura.

"It'll be okay," Ryou assured him, reaching down to touch his cheek. "Go to sleep, 'Kura. We'll make sure you have light when you wake up. Just go to sleep." Bakura's body tensed as though he might struggle again before relaxing, his eyes closing and a tired sigh leaving his lips. Marik fell back on his ass, staring up at Ryou as he ran his fingers through Ishtar's golden hair. "Do you want a pillow?"

Ishtar shook his head, finally sliding off Bakura and laying down on the floor on his stomach. "Just make sure he doesn't wake up and kill me." Ryou's hand smoothed over Ishtar's spikes, repeating the soft words he'd spoken to Bakura before. Ishtar's back lifted as he inhaled deeply, the breath leaving him slowly as Ryou's enchantment worked, sending him to sleep as well.

"Wh-" Marik's voice broke, sending him into another coughing fit. "What the fuck... What did you do?"

"We can't slip into the Shadow Realm. Maybe once upon a time, we could, but not now.  Ishtar can. He was made from shadow magic." He lit another candle, setting them into the holders used for Marik's ritual. "If the shadows think they can pull 'Kura into the dark again, they've underestimated who the real darkness is." Ryou turned to their bookcase, examining the spines.

"Ishtar."