Hey, y'all. Sorry for the slight delay in posting - I was watching my first Christmas film of the season in bed and was feeling a little off the past couple of days, but I'm coming out of it I think. Hope you guys like this chapter! Honestly it's where shit starts to get real with Bakura so take care.

CW: Small discussion of sex, anxiety, coming off meds, intrusive thoughts, depression

Malik jerked awake to the smell of cooking chicken and rubbed his eyes with a groan. Bakura was still curled up under his chin, face smooth, sound asleep. Malik couldn't help but smile. This suited him far better than the jagged shadow of Ryou's body had. He reached one hand up and brushed his fingers through Bakura's hair.

Bakura twitched, but didn't wake. Gods, his hair was soft. Malik sighed and relaxed again. Why did he even wake up- wait, he had smelled chicken. Why was there a smell of chicken coming from outside?

He glanced towards the window and his smile faded. It was dark. That wasn't the problem - Bakura's bedside lamp was on. What time was it? He fumbled for his phone, discarded on the floor with his pants. One or two texts from Ishizu, a notification about job openings in Domino, and then- "Shit." Half eight.

Bakura stirred but didn't open his eyes. "Shut up," he mumbled. "M'trying to sleep."

Malik shook his head. "Bakura," he whispered, "I think Ryou's back."

"He's not back for hours," Bakura slurred, eyelids tightening as he fought to stay asleep.

"It's half eight."

"At night?"

"Yes of course at night - what else would it be?" Malik huffed. He didn't mean to snap. He never did, really. But he didn't want to run into Ryou outside. Not when the last time he had seen him was the grocery store.

"Shit." Bakura groaned and reached up a hand, pushing his hair back out of his face. He blinked his eyes open, winced at the light, and hid his face in Malik's chest. "Gimme a sec."

Fuck, how could he get out? He could launch himself out the window. That would be a quick solution. But it might hurt- who cared- his blood would be all over the pavement and someone would have to clean it up- but Ryou would fucking see him-

Bakura's arm tightened around Malik as he tensed. "Hey, relax. You'll get out, okay? Just-" Bakura yawned. "Give me a moment to wake up." Finally, he pulled away from Malik's chest and sat up. "Okay, come on. Let's get dressed."

Malik yanked his pants and boxers back on, followed by his shirt as Bakura stumbled around, trying to find clean clothes. "Do you think he'll notice?"

"Hopefully not," Bakura muttered.

Malik hummed and dragged his fingers through his hair to try and neaten it a little. His shoes were by the door. Fuck. "Bakura, I left my shoes outside." Okay, so maybe even if he didn't die, falling three storeys would be a less painful outcome.

"He's always exhausted when he gets in." Bakura shook his head. "He probably won't even have noticed." He pulled a t-shirt over his head and looked at Malik. "Ready?"

Malik let out a slow breath and nodded. "Yeah. Okay. How do we do this?" If he could just get his shoes-

Bakura chewed his lip, pushing his hair out of his forehead. "Okay. Okay, you- I'll distract Ryou and try to get him into the kitchen if he's not already there. You go for the door and be fucking quiet. Okay? Grab your shoes, and go."

Malik scoffed. "I am quiet." Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Oh shut up, screamer." He shook his head. It was fine. He could put on his shoes outside. "Okay, let's go." And if he wasn't quiet enough, he could stab Ryou- no, that would be rude.

Bakura nodded and walked out of the room, not fully closing the door behind him. "Hey, Ry."

"Hi," Ryou called, sounding a lot chirpier than he had been at the grocery store. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, m'fine." Malik saw Bakura stretch and wander into the kitchen. "What are you cooking?"

Behind his back, he waved a hand towards the door. Go. Malik slipped out, trying to keep the door from moving as much as possible.

"I made stir fry."

He crept across the lino floor, trying not to let his feet make a sound.

"Why are you cooking the meat separately?"

"Because I figured Malik would want some." Malik froze and glanced towards the kitchen. Ryou's back was still to him. Stabbing didn't sound so rude now. Bakura twisted and caught his gaze. "I assume you do, right Malik?" Ryou finally turned and gave him a smile.

Malik hesitated. "Yeah," he finally choked out. "Thanks." Get out.

"Perfect." Ryou turned back to the wok he was working at.

Leave. Malik slowly made his way into the kitchen, as Bakura stared at Ryou. "How'd you know he was here?"

Ryou looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "You never close your door when you're working, and his shoes were by the door. You really underestimate my perception abilities."

Bakura huffed. "Well you always fumble your rolls when you try to look around," he muttered, leaning up against the counter. He was small enough that he couldn't even half-sit on it. His lower back was barely touching the top of the counter. Malik found the new height endearing.

"Yeah, well that's Monster World, and this is real life." Ryou pursed his lips. "Next time just text me when he's coming - I would have brought home more food."

"I don't mind," Malik jumped in. "I wasn't expecting any food, so thanks."

"You're welcome." Ryou gave him a nod. "Could you stir this for me while I set the table?"

"I'll set it." Bakura pulled open the cutlery drawer and grabbed a fistful of knives, forks, and chopsticks. Why they needed all three, Malik didn't know, but he didn't question it.

"Thanks." Ryou grinned at him. Bakura waved him off and wandered out of the kitchen to the living area.

Malik swallowed hard. He was just imagining the tension in the room. He had to tell himself that to speak. "I shouldn't have come in without you knowing." Grab the knife, grab the knife, grab the fucking knife coward.

Ryou looked up at him. "It's as much Bakura's apartment as it is mine," he pointed out. "You don't have to ask for my permission to sleep with him." Malik winced. "You did, right?"

"Is it that obvious?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

"That you slept with him, or that you're gay?" Ryou raised an eyebrow.

"Both."

"Well I came home half an hour ago, two pairs of shoes were at the door, and Bakura's bedroom door was closed, then he tries to sneak you out," Ryou listed, "and I peeked in to check if he was okay and saw you cuddled up together." Malik's face burned. "Don't tell him I did that. That was honestly the only reason I knew you were here, but I want him to think my perception's better."

"I fucking knew it!" Bakura cackled, and Ryou's face turned as red as Malik's felt.

"Shut up!" He called in English over his shoulder. Bakura just laughed and returned to grab glasses. Ryou sighed as Bakura left the room again. "Anyway, yeah. It was pretty obvious after that." He grinned at Malik. "And every queer person has a gaydar, so don't worry."

"But you're also relentlessly gay."

"Bakura, can you shut up?" Ryou called, in English again. "Don't make him feel self-conscious."

"It's fine," Malik assured him, in English too. "I'm fine."

Ryou paused, turning to him. "You can speak English?"

Malik nodded, then cringed. "I, uh... whenever I used the Rod, I learned whatever languages the people I was controlling knew. So... yeah." He got his English from Ryou.

"I see." Ryou nodded, something flashing in his eyes. He knew where Malik had learned it too. "How many do you know?"

"Um..." Malik chewed his tongue. "About... fifteen? I think?" Bakura whistled as he returned to get drinks, and Malik's face heated up again.

"That's pretty cool," Ryou admitted, grinning. "But back to the topic, it is pretty obvious that you're gay. You do paint your nails and call everyone honey-"

"Don't stereotype!" Bakura mock-scolded.

Ryou rolled his eyes. "I'm not. And don't use my lines against me." He shrugged. "But straight people like to assume that everyone around them is straight, so you're fine."

Malik huffed and leaned against the counter. "I suppose that's something." He had glammed it up a little bit for the coffee meet-up with Bakura. He didn't feel able to do so in Egypt, so it felt nice.

"Exactly." Ryou smiled at him. "Pass me a plate, would you?"

Malik pulled down three plates from the press as Bakura disappeared into his room to pull on socks. "You're sure you don't mind me being here?" He asked as he passed one to Ryou.

Ryou glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Bakura was actually smiling when he walked out the door today, and he cleaned his room. That was because of you." He spooned some basmati rice onto the plate. "I might still be a little wary, but..." He shook his head. "I can see that you've changed, and I wasn't exactly innocent in the whole ordeal either." He added some vegetables to the top and set it aside. That must be Malik's, then. "So no. I don't mind." He offered a small smile. "It's actually... kind of nice."

"Nice?" Malik's eyebrows arched and he passed Ryou another plate. "How?"

"Yugi and Atem are friendly and all that, but they don't like to even think about what happened, much less bring it up." Ryou shook his head. "It's nice meeting someone else who doesn't want to pretend that it didn't happen and that they're all better now that the items are gone."

Malik risked a smile. "The Pharaoh was pretty fucked up."

"You have no idea." Ryou rolled his eyes. "You met him when he calmed down." He scooped a generous portion of rice and meat onto the next plate, and very little vegetables. Bakura's. "Did you know he once set a man on fire in a penalty game? He was also sexist as hell and thought that beauty was the only thing women cared about."

"Wait, wait, go back." Malik stared at him. "The Pharaoh set a man on fire?"

"Yup." Ryou smiled, but it was tight. "But he doesn't like to talk about that, because 'it was all the darkness' doing'." He shook his head. "So, as I said, it's nice to talk to someone who isn't like that."

It must be. Malik paused. Isis. Of course it was. "Thanks." Maybe he didn't need to stab Ryou.

"You don't need to thank me for that." Ryou took the last plate. "Now come on - let's eat."

Bakura was humming as he sat in the waiting room. The walls didn't seem so forcefully cheerful anymore, and he actually liked the rainbow on the random piece of outdated paper this time. The radio wasn't bad this time either - Lana Del Ray was playing, and he actually liked her. Fuck, he really was a bit of a stereotype. Not as bad as Malik though. His small smile grew even with the thought of Malik.

"Bakura?" Bakura looked up as Takashi called his name, and followed her out of the waiting room without needing to be told. She smiled at him as she led him to her room. "You seem happier than usual. Did you have a good week?"

"Yeah." Bakura grinned and plopped into his armchair. "I met up with someone I used to know, and we ended up hooking up."

"That sounds good." Takashi smiled and eased into her own chair. "Was it a one-night thing?"

"Nah." Bakura shook his head. Neither of them were a fan of one-night stands, it turned out. "We're... dating I think." The concept still seemed so foreign, but it left a smile on his face. "I honestly feel a lot better than I have in a long time."

Takashi nodded slowly. "This is Marik that you're talking about, I assume?" She asked. "The one you met during Battle City?"

"That's him." Bakura's grin grew a little. "He, uh... He's moved back to Domino, at least for a while, and he ran into my brother. We went out for coffee and just... reconnected I guess."

"Has he changed?"

"A lot," Bakura confirmed. "He used to be... bratty as hell, and yeah he's still a bit of a brat, but in an... in an acceptable way." He paused to think about it. "He used to mean it. Now I think he mainly just uses his brattiness for humour more than anything."

"And he's less manipulative?"

Bakura nodded. "He's worked on it, and I think he's actively trying not to manipulate people. He's even going to counselling - I think here. I'm not sure."

"It sounds like he's getting himself under control." Takashi managed to smile. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "What about you? How are you doing outside of Marik coming back?"

"Good." Bakura nodded. "I think him coming back helped a lot, because my productivity went up too." He'd gotten more work done in the past week than in the month previously.

"That's brilliant." Takashi crossed her legs. "But it really sounds as though you're pinning a lot of your high on Marik."

Bakura shook his head. "I don't think this is a high."

Takashi raised an eyebrow. "What do you think it is?"

"I think... what I had before was just a low." Bakura leaned back in his chair. "I feel... normal again, I guess. I just think that this is more permanent than what I used to feel."

Now Takashi looked a little tense, her forehead creasing into a frown. "Bakura, you have been diagnosed with depression-"

"But I could have been exaggerating," Bakura pointed out. He did that a lot when he hit a low. "I mightn't have even known it."

"I don't think you were." Takashi bridged her fingers. "We don't prescribe any clients medication unless we think that it's the right option for them and that there isn't really another valid option-"

"I'm fine," Bakura insisted. "I've stopped taking them."

Takashi licked her lips. "How long were you on them?"

"A week and a half." Bakura shrugged. "So no harm done. And it's not like I'll face withdrawals after that either."

"I-" Takashi sighed. "Bakura, were you not asked to stay on them for at least three weeks to see how you reacted to them?"

"There's no point," Bakura insisted. "I've been coming here twice a week for nearly a month, and it's been working. I'm fine now. I was just... in a bad place when I came here, and now I'm not."

"Your bad place seems to hit you frequently enough that it's a problem." Takashi leaned forward in her seat. "Now this is ultimately your decision, but I don't think depression is your only issue. You display very clear symptoms of CPTSD and an anxiety disorder, and I think you may be on the autistic spectrum, but I don't want to diagnose you with any of those without spending a little more time with you first." She caught his eyes. "And you're not doing yourself any favours by quitting your anti-depressants."

Bakura ground his teeth together. "I'm fine," he hissed. "I don't need anti-depressants." Not when he was doing this well. All they did was give him more nervous energy than he knew what to do with when he first took them, and feel like there was something innately wrong with him. Like he was a freak. "I don't want to take them - and I don't want a diagnosis in any of that shit."

"I think you should go for them," Takashi urged. "Even if you choose not to do anything with the information - just for your own peace of mind. I can diagnose you with an anxiety disorder and CPTSD if you have it, but to be diagnosed with autism, you need to take a screening test. That's something I can't do with you."

Anxiety. Autism. Depression. CPTSD. It all just added up to more and more things wrong with him, abnormal, freakish. "I don't," he repeated, "want it." He stood up. He couldn't do this. "I need to go."

"Bakura, we have another forty minutes left-"

"I need to go." He sped towards the door.

Takashi stood up. "I'll wait here," she called after him, "if you need to come back. I'll be here until the hour ends." He yanked open the door. "Call when you want to make another appointment."

Bakura slammed the door shut behind him and stormed out of the building. He twisted and stuck his middle finger up, as though the building itself was offending him. He didn't really care if anyone saw him, but they largely kept their wooden blinds half-closed, so it was unlikely.

He turned his back on it and began walking again. Fuck them. He was fucking fine and he didn't need their stupid medications or diagnoses. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, and in what seemed like five minutes, he was home. He was out of breath, a wheeze caught in his chest, but when he thought back, he could remember the twenty five minute walk relatively clearly.

See? Fine. He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, as though to challenge the wheeze. There was nothing wrong with him, and he didn't fucking need them. Ryou was wrong. Takashi was wrong. He was fine, and Malik had helped him see that he was only having some low times. He was fine. He didn't need that bullshit, paying thousands of yen every time he needed- no, wanted to chat to someone.

He just needed to stay with Malik for a little bit longer, to stabilise himself. After that, he could take care of himself again, and his lows would become less frequent, and he'd be able to work, and shop, and do chores consistently and stay productive. That would happen in a few days, he was sure of it. Because he was fine.

He was fine.

I really hope you guys liked this chapter. Please review if you did, and I'll see you next week! I might update Thursday because I have a test on Wednesday but not entirely sure yet.