Heyo sorry I'm posting this in class so gotta go fast. Hope you enjoy the final chapter, thanks for sticking with me this long! Got pride today in college so that should be fun. So should taking the test right after that I haven't studied for lmao. Wish me luck so I don't fuckin die.

CW: Asthma attack, memory of Kul Elna, gore, switching/mixing, mentions of Malik's past, medication, mention of familial arguments

Malik closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a slow breath, drew another in, and let that one out as well before he looked at the notebook again. Nasir had been out. He wasn't entirely sure when. Maybe he'd had a nightmare. But his body ached with exhaustion, and the notebook Bakura had gotten him now had a letter in it in writing that wasn't either of theirs.

Malik, it read in a scrawling script. He just kept reading his name over and over again, and then flicking down to the neat signature. Nasir.

Bakura sat on the side of the armchair beside him, arm pressed up against his shoulder. "It's important, love," he said.

"To you?"

"To him." He paused and considered the question. "And to me."

Malik let out a shuddering sigh and looked at the paper again. It was only a page long. Bakura reached out and placed his hand over Malik's. Malik looked up at him. It was odd to have to do, but the armchair was deep and comfy, so on the arm of it, Bakura's head sat an inch or two above his own.

Bakura gave him a tiny smile. "You need to work with them on this. And this might help."

"I know," Malik said. He leaned his head against Bakura's shoulder. "I know." He took another breath and tried to read it again.

Malik,

I don 't know why the fuck I'm doing this. You're probably not even going to read it unless Bakura makes you. I don't even know what to write. I guess I'm pissed at you but I'm also not because I get why I'm here better than I think you do.

I guess I should tell you the other alters and stuff? So there 's me, Amir, Kek, and Namu. I don't know if there's any more. I know Namu was made to deal with Atem so that's why you blacked out when you first got back but I don't know what he is. Maybe the avenger. Kek's the protector; he was made to deal with physical violence and the whole killing dad thing. He's the asshole who made you say daddy in that meeting in case you still thought you were possessed. I don't really know Amir. I think he was created to deal with your guilt or fear or something, but I never really talked to him, even when we had the Rod. I think he might be the caregiver or something like that.

Oh yeah, the Rod helped us talk. I guess that 's useful information. Or not since they're gone but whatever.

I only know a few of my triggers but it 's anything that makes you remember the tombs a lot. I was fronting after pride because you had a nightmare about being forced back in there and then just stuff like that happens just before I take over. I think I'm the little which is bullshit because I'm nineteen but I guess that fits me most? So yeah. I don't know what I'm doing. Fuck.

Okay Bakura 's telling me to tell you a bit about myself so you're less scared, which is bullshit because you're not the one who should be scared here but whatever. I'm nineteen but I think I already said that. I like cartoons and video games a lot. Ryou's my friend I think? I like dairy but Bakura won't let me eat it because you don't. He's saying I shouldn't have written that. I don't like him all that much but I know you do. Tell him to stop treating me like you. I really don't like that.

Okay I 'm going to go watch something because you'll be out again soon and I don't know what else to say. Just stop making me deal with your anger so much. It tastes terrible.

Nasir.

Malik let the notebook fall into his lap and he leaned his head backwards. Bakura pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You okay?"

"No." Malik shook his head and closed his eyes. "I didn't- I don't-" He took a slow breath. He was shaking. Bakura's arms wrapped around him, and the tight hold helped to ground him a little.

"It's okay," Bakura said. "I didn't let him do anything bad."

"Except stay up all night when I need to work in an hour?" Malik tilted his head up.

Bakura grinned. "Figured it was better than murdering people."

Malik shrugged. "I mean, if it helped him sleep-" He cut himself off and grinned.

Bakura snorted. "Are we at the stage we can joke about it? Because I've been wanting to for ages."

"We may as well." Malik pressed his face into Bakura's shoulder. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with this." It was all his fault. If he could just deal with things, then this wouldn't be happening.

"It's fine." Bakura ran his fingers through Malik's hair. "I promise." He pressed his lips to the top of Malik's head and stayed there.

Malik relaxed into his hold and did his best to steady his breathing a touch. Bakura smelled of a mix of fresh sweat and the Black Ice Lynx deodorant he had stolen from Ryou. "You need a shower," Malik muttered.

Bakura hummed and lifted his face. Malik regretted speaking when he did that. "You need one more. You still need to go to work."

"Touché." Malik closed his eyes. "Will you make me some coffee while I shower?"

"Make it youself," Bakura huffed but he released Malik and stomped to the kitchen.

"Soy milk!" Malik reminded him as he made his way to the bathroom. Some days Bakura really would leave him to make it himself. Then there would be days where he would come out of the shower to coffee, two slices of toast with his almond spread, and sometimes quorn bacon. Malik had a feeling this was the latter of the two types of days.

As he turned on the shower, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. Ishizu again. His finger hovered over the end call button for a second. He closed his eyes, answered the call, and brought the phone up to his ear. "Hey, Ishizu."

"Malik," Ishizu breathed. She sounded relieved. "I've been trying to call you."

"Sorry." Malik pursed his lips. "I've been busy."

"I can tell."

Malik could hear something going on in the background. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," Ishizu assured him. "It's just a busy day at the museum. We're getting in another shipment."

"That's good." Malik glanced over at the shower. Steam was already filling the air. "How have you been?" Since Malik mixed with someone, yelled at her, and hung up.

"I've been well." Ishizu hesitated. "How about you?"

"Me too." Malik nodded. "I've gotten a good job and an apartment. I'm... doing well."

"So I take it you won't be coming back to Egypt?"

Malik shook his head and leaned his forehead against the wall. "Ishizu..." He took a slow breath. It was a little hard with the steam. "I'm happy here. I'm in a good relationship and I'm not hiding part of myself, and I'm actually working to get better." Ishizu was silent. "I know you wanted me to just... be better once we got out and I stopped using the Rod, but I couldn't. I need to keep working on it. And I'm just-" A breathy laugh escaped Malik. "I'm so, so much happier right now. I can't remember a time that I was this good. And that's nothing to do with living with you and Rishid, but-"

"I think I understand." Malik heard a smile in her voice. "That's all I've wanted for you, Malik. For you to be happy."

It didn't seem like that on the last phone call. Malik bit back the response. "I know." She was just worried. It just mightn't have shown in a good way.

"We'd love if you came and visited us over the holidays. Or maybe we could come see you."

Malik smiled. "That sounds great." He would need to convince Bakura to play nice for a week or so.

Something crashed on Ishizu's line and she sighed. "I need to go, but I'll talk to you soon. I'll handle the flights if we can work out a time we're all off."

"Sounds great. Thanks, Ishizu." Malik hesitated. "I love you."

Ishizu didn't. "Love you too." Then she was gone.

Malik lowered his phone and did his best to quell the elation rising in his throat as he showered and dried off. He walked to the bedroom in a towel and pulled on a shirt, and then paused before he could put on his black pants. He looked at them for a minute, and then folded them and put them away.

When he walked out to the kitchen, his heels clicked on the floor and a black skirt swished around his knees.

A mug of coffee was sitting on the table with a plate of toast. His almond spread was in the tub beside the plate, and Bakura was toasting himself a waffle. Bakura glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened. "Everything okay?" He asked.

Malik leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Everything's great, honey." His hair was still damp and clung to the nape of his neck.

Bakura smiled and Malik sat down to eat. He still had a half hour to spare. When his waffle was done, Bakura grabbed it and sat in Malik's lap to eat it without a plate. Malik just wrapped an arm around Bakura's waist and finished his breakfast.

Neither of them moved for a few minutes, even after they had finished eating, but eventually, Malik sighed and rested his forehead between Bakura's shoulder blades. "I need to go." Bakura grunted. "That means you need to get off my lap."

"I'm not moving." Bakura glanced back at him and grinned. Malik frowned at him. "Bet you wish you'd killed me on the pier, huh?"

Malik rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Kind of."

The world was sand and stone, and Bakura ran through the streets barefoot in nothing but a shendyt. Someone was chasing him, and he laughed, weaving between other people in the village. All were clothed in cream or similarly light colours. Once he was out of sight, he ducked beneath a table and doubled back to his house.

His cousin was there, holding a vibrantly coloured fruit. She said something, but Bakura couldn't understand her. He heard himself say something. He couldn't even process what he himself said.

But he heard the screams.

Red melted the sunny village away and Diabound wrapped tight around Bakura, hiding him. His cousin still stood there and Bakura screamed at her to get out - to run.

She took a bite of the fruit. Thick juices dripped down her chin, light pink on almost black. A spear shot through her chest and she coughed. The juice turned to blood, and she collapsed.

Bakura twisted, but Diabound held him tight. Too tight. He couldn't breathe. He heard his mother scream and he could see her through the open door. Her ka was out, flaming, and she was bringing as many guards down with her as she could.

His father didn't even open his eyes as the knife slit his throat. He couldn't. He hadn't woken up in days. His mother screamed again, one of rage. Fire blazed in her eyes moments before it took her down, expanding, roaring. The guards, his father, his cousin, everyone was consumed by the flames except him. Diabound covered him entirely, squeezing, suffocating.

The fires faded too quickly, and the world of sand and stone became one of gold trapped in a giant pot. Robed figures stood around it, chanting. Bakura stood with them but they didn't see him. The mould was on the alter – it took five people to lift the pot and pour the gold into it. Half of it trickled down the sides – half of the villagers who died for nothing. The gold turned red, and spirits lifted out of them. Faceless, wailing spirits. As the cover was placed on top of the mould, Bakura's mother screamed again – from inside the gold.

Bakura's eyes flashed open and he gasped for breath. He fumbled for his glasses and knocked something off the table, but he managed to get the glasses on his face. The fairy lights weren't on, and the bed was empty. Malik wasn't back from work yet.

Bakura coughed and rolled onto his side. Breathe. Breathe, fucking breathe! He couldn't. He reached onto the bedside table for his inhaler, but it wasn't where he had put it. It was getting harder to breathe. He scrambled for the inhaler. Where was it? Where was it?

He knocked a bottle of water off the dresser and it rolled under the bed. The book he had been reading fell onto the floor cover down. Nothing else was there. Shit!

He couldn't see. His vision was blurring with tears. He tried not to let them fall, but his eyes overflowed. He was going to die. He wrenched the drawer open and tore his boxers and socks out. He couldn't feel anything plastic. He tried to sit up, but ended up half rolling out of the bed. He landed on his back and it knocked the last of the air out of him.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to die.

A door opened. "Bakura?" Malik called.

Bakura heaved for breath. If he could just talk.

"Bakura are you here?"

He could hear Malik's footsteps getting closer. He wheezed and did his best to just make a noise. Any noise. He grabbed his book and hit it against the dresser. Malik opened the door. "Help-" Bakura managed to force out.

"Bakura!" Malik ran to him, rummaging through the things on the floor. He was speaking but Bakura could hardly hear, couldn't see. Something plastic pressed against his lips and he sucked in the medicine sprayed into his mouth. One more spray, and the tightness eased.

Bakura coughed and panted for breath, reaching up to clutch Malik's wrist. Malik reached under the bed and grabbed the bottle of water. "Drink this." He opened it and held it to Bakura's lips.

Bakura managed to take a sip. A few drops trickled down his neck. Malik lifted the bottle and Bakura coughed a few more times. "I'm okay," he heaved. "I'm okay."

"You're a fucking idiot is what you are."

That wasn't right. Bakura used his wrist to wipe his eyes and he looked up at Malik. Tears stained his cheeks, still fresh, kohl smudged around his eyes. His mouth was set in a stubborn scowl even though his eyes were still wet.

This was someone else. "Which one are you?" Bakura asked.

"Amir." Amir sniffed and wiped his cheeks. "Damn it. You could have fucking died, and then where would we be?"

"I wouldn't have died."

"You were about to pass out from lack of oxygen!" Amir wrenched away from him and stood up. He kicked off Malik's heels and started pacing the bedroom. "Why the fuck were you even on the floor? Malik wouldn't have even seen you if you hadn't made noise."

"I fell." Bakura heaved himself up, using the bed for support. He sat with his back against the dresser. "I woke up and couldn't find my inhaler."

"No shit." Amir shot him a glare. His eyes still looked glassy and wet. "Why were you in bed? It's not even seven."

"I was tired." Bakura leaned his head back. He still was. He just seemed to have less and less energy recently.

Amir dropped onto the side of the bed and hid his face in his hands. "For fuck sake," he whispered. "If Malik hadn't come home, you could have fucking died."

"So fucking sue me," Bakura snapped. "I was tired and I wanted a motherfucking nap. I'm not just not going to sleep when no one else is in the house."

Amir jolted up and whipped around to face Bakura. His eyes blazed like Bakura's mother's did. "Then take your meds!"

Bakura closed his eyes. "We're not having this conversation," he muttered. His voice was hoarse.

"Yes we fucking are." Amir walked around the side of the bed to squat in front of Bakura. Bakura tried to stand up, but Amir held him by his shoulders. "If you would take your meds, you wouldn't be so tired and overwhelmed all the time. You might actually get to sleep without having a nightmare. Don't you want that?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then why-?"

"Because I don't want to forget!" Bakura screamed. Amir stared at him. Heat dripped down Bakura's cheeks and he swiped at them. "Fuck..." He sniffed. "I don't want to forget what happened. I don't want to forget their faces and if I stop having nightmares I might-" He shook his head. "I literally existed for revenge for more than three thousand years. Three thousand fucking years." His upper lip curled. "You know how old I was? Five. I was fucking five when I watched my mother's ka being destroyed and her dying with it. I was five when I saw my younger cousin get a spear thrown through her chest. I was five when I watched them slit my father's throat like he wasn't going to die within a few days anyway." His eyes burned and he dug the palms of his hands into them, shoulders hunched. "I was five," he whispered. "Their shades didn't have their faces. I knew who was who for the most part but- but they didn't-" Bakura tried to take a steady breath. He couldn't have another attack. "I can only see their faces in my nightmares and if I stop having them, I- I mightn't see them anymore." He dug his palms deeper until stars exploded behind his eyelids.

He heard Amir sigh heavily, and the bed creaked. When he finally managed to open his eyes, Bakura saw Amir had climbed into the bed and curled up to one side with his chest facing Bakura. Malik had done the same thing in Battle City - so Bakura wasn't near his back. He was on Malik's phone, swiping furiously.

"What are you doing?" Bakura managed to ask. His voice sounded weak.

"What does it fucking look like?" Amir scowled at him. "Playing phone games until I pass out."

Bakura snorted and climbed into the bed beside him. It was easier than functioning, and Amir didn't complain. After an hour or so of playing in silence, Bakura had calmed down enough.

Amir spoke without looking up from the phone. "You won't forget their faces."

Bakura's finger slid wrong across the screen and he lost the round. He frowned and hit replay. "You don't know that."

"You might have good dreams about them instead of nightmares." Amir shrugged. "That's better, right?" Bakura stayed silent. "Unless there's something else."

Bakura closed his eyes. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't Malik. That Amir was a whole entire other person and he wouldn't react the same or give the same advice, and Bakura couldn't treat him like Malik. He couldn't just talk about all of his problems like that.

But Amir waited expectantly for him to speak, and eventually he did.

"I've been like this for years," he muttered. "It feels safe." He switched over to Instagram and began flicking through photos in his recommended section. Most of them were comics and he didn't read them. "I know what it's like to be depressed and have anxiety and shit but... I don't know if I even remember a time when I didn't other than in the Ring, and then I just..."

"Didn't have anything?" Amir muttered. Bakura nodded. "The Rod did the same to us. Kek took the brunt of it."

Bakura nodded. "I also had a fucking god controlling me and everything was just blank other than anger. So I know that the fucking pills will help but it's also different and I don't know what it'll be like and that's..." He took a slow breath. In for five, out for seven. "It scares me."

Amir paused his game and lowered the phone. He examined Bakura for a moment, even though the other didn't look up. "You owe it to yourself to try. And if you don't like it, you can always come off them. Not like they're a permanent thing."

"I guess." Bakura closed his eyes. "I'm just... tired of trying."

"Then die." Amir shrugged. "Because that's what life is."

"I didn't ask to be brought back."

"Don't do that." Amir pushed himself up to glare at Bakura. "Don't fucking do that."

"Do what?" Bakura returned the glare but he didn't bother to sit up.

Amir shook his head, hair floating wild around his face. One side stuck up and the other was matted to the side of his head even though he'd only been lying down for an hour. "Don't fucking act like your life is so fucking expendable! I don't have my own fucking body - do you know what people would do to give people they miss the same chance you have? Do you know what Ryou did to give it to you?"

"I didn't want it!" Bakura squeezed his eyes shut. "I wanted to move on!"

"You couldn't without this chance." Amir was still glaring at him. "You would have been trapped in the shadows forever. And now you're back and you need to fucking take care of yourself like Malik's finally learning to do."

Bakura rolled over so his back was facing Amir. He stared at the wall. It was a dull cream colour. Malik hated it - he wanted to paint it, but neither of them had gotten around to getting paint samples yet. "I just want to stop existing in two places at once. I wasn't twenty years in a body, and I was three thousand years in a piece of gold. I don't like it."

"Yeah well." Amir shrugged. Bakura heard blankets rustle. "I only started existing when Malik was seven and I haven't fronted that much so-"

"It's not the same."

"I'm not saying it is."

Bakura groaned and if he was certain that it wouldn't cause an attack, he would have rolled onto his stomach and buried his head in his pillow.

Amir was quiet for a moment. "If you can't live for yourself just yet, live for other people."

Bakura turned to face him again, frowning. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?"

Amir met his gaze. His was tenser than Malik's - as if he had to force himself to look people in the eye. "I mean the obvious goal is to live because you want to live, but if you can't do that, then live because other people want you to live. Malik was so scared that you'd die when he saw you that I had to come out. Ryou would be devastated. You're one of the few people Mai can talk to about her shit from what I know. And the others would care too. Seto if only because Ryou would care and they'd lose a good employee."

Bakura snorted and rolled his eyes.

"But seriously. If you can't live because you want to, live because everyone else in your life would hurt if you weren't alive."

Bakura's chest tightened and he stared up at the ceiling. The fairy lights strung there looked like stars if he squinted hard enough.

Amir lay back down and returned to his game.

Bakura just stared at the ceiling until he eventually slipped into a dreamless sleep with the whispered words of a lullaby he had almost forgotten in his ears.

For the first time in a long time, Bakura was the first to wake up the next morning. Malik was still curled up on his own, but he had shifted a little closer to Bakura in his sleep. Or was it still Amir?

Bakura closed his eyes for a minute, and then opened them again. He didn't want to go back to sleep. Instead, he climbed out of the bed, slowly so as not to wake Malik, and crept out to the kitchen.

By the time Malik wandered out in his boxers and a dressing gown, Bakura already had breakfast cooking. Vegan pancakes, quorn bacon, some berries, and toast. The pancakes and bacon were in a casserole dish in the oven to stay warm, the berries were in a bowl on the table, and the toast was on. Bakura stood at the toaster with a knife in hand, ready to butter two pieces and spread the shitty almond butter for the other two.

Malik's arms wrapped around his waist from behind and he rested his head on Bakura's shoulder. "This smells amazing," he murmured. "Special occasion?"

Bakura turned his head and pressed a kiss to Malik's cheek. "Didn't want you to grouch at me." He smiled and placed his hand over Malik's arm. "I'm... sorry for scaring you yesterday."

Malik shook his head. "It's not your fault." He hesitated. "I don't remember a lot. Did I- Did I switch with Nasir?"

Bakura shook his head. "A different alter this time. His name was Amir. He was fine though, he just played video games and he fell asleep at nine I think."

Malik nodded slowly and kissed the side of Bakura's shoulder. "Thank you." The toast popped. Whether the thanks was for dealing with Amir or for telling Malik about him, Bakura didn't entirely know. But it didn't matter.

"You don't need to thank me, love." Bakura released his arm. "But would you get the dish out of the oven? I need to get drinks."

"Sure." Malik gave him a final squeeze and then released him to grab an oven glove.

Bakura took two plates down from the press and buttered the toast as Malik carried the dish to the table. On his way back, he took the plates from Bakura and stole a kiss. "I'll get cutlery, will you get drinks?"

Bakura huffed but turned towards the glass press. "I already cooked you breakfast. I'm not your fucking maid."

"You would look nice in a maid outfit."

Bakura flipped Malik off over his shoulder and he used the counter to reach the press. He took two glasses down and then paused. The glass press had two shelves - the lower was for glasses and mugs, and the upper was for medicine. A small blue bag with a pharmacy logo and a white sticker sat at the front, propped up by the first aid kit.

Sertraline 50mg. To be taken once (1) per day before or after food. Bakura Touzoku.

Bakura reached up and grabbed the bag, bringing it down with him. He set it on the counter and filled the glasses with water before looking at it again. Sertraline. Fifty milligrams. He tore the bag open.

A thin box sat inside with a purple ribbon design. Sertraline beamed up at him again in black font. He took a slow breath, opened the box, and took out one strip. There were three strips and each one had eight tablets. He had already been through one, so if he got through those three, Takashi would prescribe him more - if he wanted more.

This wasn't a permanent thing.

He popped one of the tablets out of the foil packaging. It was small, oval, and chalky white.

Malik's arms wrapped around his waist from behind again and he kissed the back of Bakura's neck. "Everything alright, honey?" He asked. His voice was soft.

Bakura closed his eyes. If you can't live for yourself, live for people you care about. He dropped the pill into his mouth and took a sip of water to swallow it with. Then he packed the box again and left the bag on the windowsill before he turned to face Malik and answer him.

Malik just looked concerned, eyes flicking back to the bag.

To ease his worry, Bakura leaned up and stole that kiss back. "I'm good," he assured his partner. "Just realised that I have a lot more to live for than to die for."

Malik's eyes brightened, and he pulled Bakura back for another kiss. He cupped Bakura's face and smoothed over his scar with his thumb. Bakura smiled so broadly that it broke the kiss.

Neither Malik nor the meds would cure him or teach him to love himself, and neither could anyone else, but they could all help build the bridge that would get him there.

"Come on. We should eat before it gets cold. I didn't work my ass off on it for nothing."

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought and I hope to see you again! I'm currently writing a My Hero Academia fanfiction with Uraraka as a villain (kind of) so if you're into that, please check it out! It's on AO3 and FFN, and I'm hoping to be able to post it soon. If anyone is good at editing covers and wants to do it, please let me know.