"Shit..." he didn't realized he had reached out to touch him, to feel his warm neck in his cold hands. To feel Bakura, to know he was alive and well and he could've been killed and "Ra, this is my fault...."

"Marik..." Bakura's annoyance was fading, now replaced with a concern for Marik's current state. "...are you...crying?"

He ignored the question. "Ra, and that was only Melvin! If father had met you..." he clutched Bakura's shoulders. "I don't even want to think about it."

Bakura was shocked by the sudden contact that he couldn't help his blush. This was not the time or place, yeah, but he still did.

He opened his arms just a little more, letting Marik curl up in them and find his place on Bakura's shoulder. Marik's tight clutch to Bakura's back indicated that he wasn't planning to let go anytime soon.

"Marik, if there's one thing I'm actually good at doing, it's surviving. One way or another, I manage to keep breathing, be it blessing or a curse, and I'm still here." Bakura's attempted assurance was working, even if it was only to the slightest degree. "You don't have to worry about me."

"What kinds of things have you survived? Because whatever it is, it's not my father. I can't guarantee you'll survive again."

Bakura sneered. "I'll swing by tomorrow with the whole story, if you'd like to hear it."

Marik loved stories. Especially those that ended well.

"What time?"

"Early, I guess?"

That managed to get Marik to laugh. "Yeah, okay. That's fine."

"Would you want to grab a bite to eat, afterwards? Maybe see a movie?"

"Let's hope your story doesn't put me to sleep." Marik involuntarily wiped his eyes. "Then we'll talk."

Bakura grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Now, go home, Marik. Get some sleep."