Sticks and Stoners

"Marik! Phone for you!" Rolling his eyes, Marik threw down his pen and ran down the stairs to pick up his call. It had to be Atemu, no-one else ever called him. "Bit heavy on those stairs, aren't you?"

"Bite me, Shizu," he grinned, taking the phone from her hand. "Yo dude, s'up?"

"Nothing much, Rikku," Atemu's voice laughed from the other end of the line. Marik groaned silently at the nickname- ever since Bakura had started calling him it, it had caught on like wildfire. Hells, even Ishizu had started. "Listen, the house just freed up, you wanna come over?" The grin on Marik's face spread just a little wider. God only knew when he had last left this house without a school bag on his back.

"Yeah, I'd love to!" he laughed, his lavender eyes darting around the hallway where the phone lived. The laughter stopped abruptly as his gaze landed on the tall form leaning against the doorway to the living room. The grin frozen on Marik's tanned face dropped into an expression of fear as Rishid's head moved in an almost imperceptible shake, his arms crossed across his broad chest. "I mean... I'd love to, but I, erm... I've gotta do... homework... I mean..." He trailed off, hoping Atemu would take his hint. He heard his friend sigh quietly.

"It's okay dude. I'll see you at school, yeah?" Marik cringed to himself at the disappointed tone to his friend's voice. Hardly anyone knew it but he had a bit of a guilt complex. His eyes flickered up to Rishid again, who had uncrossed his arms and was approaching the blond slowly.

"Who is it?" he asked, keeping his voice low to hide it from Atemu. Marik bit back a whimper of fear and turned his attention back to the phone.

"I gotta go, okay?" he forced out, before Rishid took the phone from his hand and replaced it carefully back on the stand. "Rishid, I-"

"I asked you who it was, Marik," Rishid repeated, staring down at the teenager intimidatingly. Trying to take a step backwards, Marik found his path blocked by the wall.

"Just... just a friend from school, Rishid, no-one special," he stuttered out. Rishid scoffed slightly, rolling his dark eyes.

"If he's not special, why waste time talking to him when you could be spending it getting me a drink?" he questioned, almost sweetly. Gulping, Marik turned quickly and walked through to the kitchen, forcing himself not to react to the slap Rishid dealt to the back of his head.

"You're lucky he's in a good mood, Marik," Ishizu warned her brother, pulling the bottle opener out of its drawer and sliding it across the counter to him. Marik shrugged and plucked a bottle from the fridge.

"I love the way that that's his good mood," he muttered, grabbing the bottle opener and removing the lid. "How much arsenic do we have in the house? You know, just out of interest."

"Marik, please take this seriously."

"How much more seriously could we be taking it, Shizu?" the blond returned sharply. Ishizu swallowed hard and returned her eyes to the food she was preparing, her dark hair falling between her brother and herself. Sighing, Marik crossed the room and put an arm around her, hugging her softly. "How's your arm?"

"It's getting better," she replied, trying a smile. "It hasn't opened up again, so I think it's well on the way." His lips quirking into a sad smile for a second, Marik flicked her hair into her face and walked through to the living room, the bottle of beer in his hand.

"Took your time," Rishid griped, grabbing the bottle from his hand without another word.
"Sorry, Rishid," Marik muttered, dropping into the cushiony confines of the sofa. Rishid "tchh"ed and took a long draught of the beer, flicking the volume up on the TV. If Marik dared he would have complained about the choice of program- he hated football with all of his heart- but as it was he would have to put up with it. Every now and again, Rishid would cast a disparaging glance at him, as if daring him to say anything. Every time, Marik would carefully avoid his eyes till the older man got bored and looked away. Finally, his gravelly voice ripped though the silence between them.

"Don't you have homework to do or something? You're getting on my nerves." Glad of an excuse to be away from him, Marik leapt up from the sofa and sprinted up the stairs, slamming the door behind him as loudly as he dared. Flinging himself onto the bed, he picked up his pen and began again where he had left off before Atemu's phone call.

It was like drowning in liquid darkness. Pressing in on me from any side, squeezing the air from my lungs, stopping even my heartbeat.
After the struggle that always seemed to last forever, I pulled myself awake from the nightmare, feeling my mind slam back into my body as my eyes snapped open. Letting out a sleepy grumble, Raiko

His pen stopped in it's scratching, as an exasperated sigh came from Marik's throat. He could get that far and then his mind blanked on him. Gods only knew what he was going to write next. He didn't even know where he wanted the story to go. Flipping over onto his back on his bed, his usual writing desk, he stared at the ceiling and let his mind drift.

The noises from downstairs floated into his room. Over the noise of the football game, he could hear Rishid complaining about something to Ishizu. He winced slightly as the older man's voice raised at his sister's response, accompanied by the loud creaking that meant he had gotten up out of the chair he always sat in. Both voices grew louder, Ishizu's more desperate and scared as Rishid's grew more angry. Marik closed his eyes, biting his lip in fearful anticipation of the usual--

Bang. Marik winced as he heard the pained cry from his sister, and the slurred admonition from Rishid that "you deserve it, slut...". It took all his strength not to wrench the door open, run down the stairs and belt the bastard in the face till he bled. He satisfied himself with digging his fingernails into his palm and imagining all the ways he could kill him in his sleep.

What seemed like an eternity later, the blond heard soft footsteps on the stairs and ran to his door, opening it to let Ishizu into his room. She sat down on his bed heavily, wincing as the pressure was removed from her leg.

"What did he do this time..." he growled, sitting next to her and hugging her carefully. She choked back a sob and tried to smile bravely.

"He pushed me into the wall... I fell over the coffee table on the way there," she told him, rubbing her ankle through her skirt. Marik clenched his fist and growled quietly, forcing himself to stay where he was. "Rikku, promise me you won't do anything stupid!" Marik sighed.

"I'll try, Shizu," he promised. "Go on, get some sleep." Hugging him again and pressing a sisterly kiss to his forehead, she stood up and stumbled out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Marik sat where he was for a second, before springing up and yanking a drawer open, pulling out a small pill bottle. He turned it over in his hand before ripping the lid off, tipping a few of the small white pills into his hand. Staring at them for a second, he sighed and tipped them into his mouth, swallowing them with a grimace. He dropped onto the bed and punched the pillow behind his head, waiting for the buzz to kick in.

"I'm sorry, sister... I know I promised but I have to," he sighed. A few minutes later, a comfortable fog began to cloud his mind. He let it carry him away from his reality, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. Nothing could hurt him now.