The second installment of my Sickleshipping fanfic, enjoy.

Sitting in the waiting room with his eldest sibling, Marik quietly turned the disk he held in one hand. The fluorescent lighting from above causing the flat circle to cast a rainbow over his face as he glared at his own colorful reflection.
Somehow this was going to help his therapist crack him and put him back together the way society saw fit. How dare they think something was wrong with him? Admittedly he was different from most people but variety was the spice of life. So, how dare they want to take that away and make a bland world?
The spiky haired youth sighed heavily. His therapist, Dr. Akefia was it? No matter, wanted him to burn a CD of some of his favorite songs. So he did just that. Ishizu and Odion surprised by his cooperation though knew better than to question it or risk their little brother going on a rampage through the house. As far as they were concerned about the harmless collection of music, it was best to keep close but out of the wild man’s hair or chance him setting the curtains ablaze.
“No!” screamed a voice from down the hall. Footsteps rushing towards the waiting room only for a hard thud to follow. A kid with long black hair just visible and picking himself up at the last second. Two adults were hot on his tail as the strange child went screaming through the double doors and out into the outside world. “You’ll never make me!” the voice trailed off. The men running after him calling something, most likely the child’s name.
Enjoying the bit of chaos, the blonde perked up, his gaze at the door in anticipation of wanting to see events unfold. Maybe the child would find himself diving into a car, trying to jack it, and cause a delightful high speed chase! Sadly though, it seemed more likely that the men after him were going to catch up and restrain him. How dull.
Feeling his excitement ebb away, Marik leaned back into his chair. “So much for that,” he muttered bitterly. The CD turning between both hands now to the multihued side would turn into the plain white top. His name scribbled onto it in all capitals. Oh how that caused an unspoken disapproval in his sister when she saw the R and not the L. Couldn’t she tell the difference between him and that weakling?
A disgusted frown crossed his face at the very thought. “Malik Ishtar?” A woman called from the hall where the raven haired child had ran from minutes ago. Her smile wavering when she meet his cold glare. “I-I mean… M-Marik?” She corrected. The paperwork in her hands having a little note she had accidentally overlooked under the man’s given name.
“Behave,” Odion reminded as the blonde rose to his feet. His violet eyes closing long enough for him to calm himself down just enough to keep from saying something cruel to his adopted sibling. The bald man’s lips lifting into something a little more friendly but not quite a smile. “See you in an hour.”
An hour. Great. Sixty minutes trapped in a room with a stranger that would be trying to change him. Make him more fit for the world. The idea itself was revolting. All because he killed his father? Psh, the man deserved worse than what he had gotten. Much worse. Had no one stopped him, he would have given that cruel fucker just what he had coming to him.
Stopping with the underling worker of the establishment, Marik closed his eyes tight and tried to will the image of his father away. The blood pooling back into the elder’s corpse though the body remained leaning upright with dead eyes staring back at him. What a pathetic mess.
“Marik, come in,” spoke an unseen male. The Ishtar slowly opened his eyes to see that his shrink was motioning him into his office. The lady who once stood beside him gone just like the vision of his dead father. “Ah, I see you’ve brought me a gift.”
“It’s just the CD you wanted,” the blonde countered.
“That might be so but you did bring it for me.” Sitting behind his desk, the other leaned forward with one outstretched hand wanting the compact disk. A pleasant grin sliding over his face as he took the object and flipping it over to see the name Marik scribbled into it in all capital lettering. “Excellent.”
Marik just frowned before turning to take a seat in the chair opposite of the oddly cheery shrink. Why had he simply just handed it over? Why didn’t he break it in front of him and tell him to analyze that?
“So tell me, how has your week been?” Akefia asked while holding the CD in one hand and opening his desk drawer with the other. A slim casing was pulled and the disk promptly put inside.
Rolling his eyes, Marik turned around and plopped into the expensive chair. “What a typical question. Surely you have something better to ask of me,” he muttered, seemingly bored already. He folded his hands together before leaning forward in his seat. “How about you tell me how your’s was?”
Putting the item he held into the drawer, the head doctor chuckled lightly as he pushed the drawer back into place. “Very well. My week consisted of seeing other patients, getting stabbed with a plastic knife by one, then mostly going home to drink beer and watch television with my brother.”
“You were stabbed?” Marik asked sounding a little interested. He watched as his therapist pulled up his left sleeve of his suit to reveal a small gash from when he had been attacked. The younger male’s enthusiasm quickly dying down when he saw it was no real damage though it had been enough to make the other bleed at one point.
“Nothing too dramatic. The young woman apparently did not like what I had to say.”
“What happened to the girl?” Ishtar questioned. “Was it here?” If it had been then she was most likely carted away and restrained till police arrived, even if it was a minor stabbing.
Leaning back into his plush chair, Akefia ran his tongue over his lower lip as if in deep thought. His nose twitching from the memory though he quickly smiled before turning his own violet gaze to the other male present.
“Well, I regret to say that I didn’t handle it very professionally.” That caught the blonde off guard. Was this man serious?
“What did you do?” he asked while leaning a bit closer like a curious child around the campfire being told a scary story. “You stab her back?” He wondered out loud, sounding hopeful.
The question earned a light hearted chuckle from the therapist. “That would have been well deserved now, wouldn’t it?” Akefia watched the other closely. His eyes looking for the faintest movement and he could not resist a grin when he saw the flicker of a smile on the young one’s lips.
“Justified,” Marik mused before giving a faint nod of his head. “But not enough. They say an eye for an eye but I think it should be more than that.” Just returning the favor after someone had wronged you did not seem like full justice. Getting an extra hit or stab in to reassure that the one who did wrong would never do it again seemed far more appropriate.
Picking up a pen with his left hand, the shrink make a few quick twirling gestures onto the pad on his desk. Cursive most likely being used, Marik thought to himself, that or the other just wanted to scribble for seemingly no reason. “To reassure that the crime will never be repeated?” He asked while his right hand drummed against the desk’s surface.
Was this guy a mind reader like his sister? “Yeah,” he trailed off.
“What about the possibility that you simply want revenge? To make up for the pain they given you?” The drumming stopped and dark eyes looked up towards the youth.
Silence passed between the two while Marik shifted in his seat. His eyes closed as he tried to think of what to say. Would agreeing to what this man had to say condemn him or would it truly be confidential like it was said to be? It wasn’t until a full minute passed that he spoke. “Why does anyone do anything? People are selfish creatures and it’s only natural for revenge to come to mind.”
“Many would argue with that. They would spout bullshit saying things like, we can control that urge.” Akefia frowned and tilted his head to the side. His right hand reaching up to tug at his tie and loosen it around his neck. “Pardon my choice words.”
“No. Don’t apologize. I liked it,” the Ishtar mused. “It made you seem more real for once unlike all the other tightwads I’ve seen.” He shifted in the overly large chair and turned himself to the side. Legs draping over the armrest to allow him to feel more comfortable.
“Very well,” he paused for a lingering moment to collect himself despite being reassured that it was fine to let his guard down. “They act like you can control your thoughts when you can’t. The best you can do is deal with them how you see fit or as how society deems acceptable.”
A frown crossed the blonde’s face. “What do you mean?”
Putting the pen down, Akefia straightened himself up for a moment as if to pop his back and then leaned forward a ways. The lights in the room casting a small shadow over his desk. “Society wants us to act all in a way that is beneficial to everyone. If it’s selfish then they want you to overlook that thought and feel bad for having it when really it should not matter what you are or were thinking so long as you know what is best for you.”
Licking his lips as he tried to absorb what had been said, the wild haired male leaned back against the other armrest and this time gazed off at the ceiling. Was this a trick or did the elder man really believe in what he had to say? He had an interesting way of thinking at the very least. Again silence passed between the two of them though when Marik turned his head and opened his eyes to look at the doctor, he found him scribbling something else down onto his notepad. Just what all could he glean from him in their shared silence?
“You never said just what it was that you did to her. The girl who stabbed you, I mean,” he clarified.
“You’re right.” Akefia continued to write something down. His attention on his work rather than the patient that sat across from him. “I didn’t tell you but if I did, would it change your opinion of me?” This time the therapist moved the pen to his other hand and flexed his left. His fingers having cramped on him, making it all too difficult to keep writing with that hand.
Had he an opinion of the other already? Marik took the time to think about it. Sure he had concluded that Akefia was a professional asshole but that was what all doctors were. Snooty and thinking far too highly of themselves. But there was something different about this shrink. He asked strange questions, asked for an odd favor, and there was something else to him that Marik just could not place. Something dark but powerful. Something that demanded respect rather than asking for it.
“I don’t know. I guess we will have to wait and see.” He watched as the other at last looked up with a crooked grin. A looming shadow still covering half of his face.
“I guess we will. Though I’m afraid that our time is up.” The white haired male stood up from his chair and stepped to the side of his desk. “Perhaps next week we can get more into the topic of the world on how corrupt it really is. Though I suspect we will also be having a,” he hesitated for a second. “Special chat about you.” The grin remained firmly on his face as he motioned for the Ishtar to rise and without questioning him, Marik stood up and followed the other close behind.
Special chat about him? This whole court ordered ordeal of him seeing this nut doctor was about him. Then it occurred to him. The CD he gave the other Egyptian. Perhaps that was what he meant.
“Goodnight, Marik. I look forward to seeing you next week. Same time?” the shrink asked. The blonde nodded his head weakly. As if he had a choice in whether or not he could get out of seeing this quack. “I’ll see you then.”
Without a second thought, Marik raised one hand to his side when he passed the other. His middle finger extended into the air as he walked down the hall to where his step brother was waiting for him. “Yeah, I’ll see you in hell.” After all, that was what this place was going to be wasn’t it? His own little slice of hell that he had to share with others that society deemed wrecked and mentally imbalanced. In his case, the court system saw him as both.
“Hell?” Akeifa mouthed to himself with a weak chuckle. Is that was this place was? Oh, if only he really knew, the psychiatrist thought to himself.

Part one.