A/N: Yeesh it's been a while. And look, it's not even one of the stories I'm supposed to be updating (or Puzzleshipping (again)). All I can say is that I've distracted. No, I haven't given up on my stories or on Puzzleshipping. I just like to explore new things every once and a while.

(Plus I have massive writer's block)

Anywho, this one's a bit...different. Irateshipping, darkfic, one-shot. It's written for a prompt I got a while a go:

Write a scene that takes place immediately after the tragedy. Don't mention the tragedy.

I'm not sure how well I've done, but feel free to give me some critique.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh. Written for entertainment purposed only.

Enjoy~

The only thing Jounouchi could hear was the whirring of fans, the dripping of liquid, and the muffled sobs of Malik against his soaked chest.

The smell had not yet reached them. Around an hour ago, that was not the case. It had been so bad, they had migrated to the other side of the house, a place that now was being questioned of its title of 'home.' To battle off this stench, Jounouchi had placed all the fans he could find in the room it was being emitted from and opened as many windows as was possible before he almost heaved his dinner onto the polished floors.

Even on the other side of the house he could still hearing the faint noise of liquid on tile. There were three distinct streams, ones he didn't have to listen for to know were there. Each had their own intensity; one an almost constant; one the sound of a heartbeat; one that barely said anything at all. And maybe the worst part was that he could match each and every one of them, if not by the image etched into his brain, but by the soft, nonexistent voices in his head.

Malik had broken down the moment it was over. Maybe he had been watching. Maybe he bore witness to the whole thing. Or maybe he even played a little part. Jounouchi would never really know, since no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't read his partner's mind. There were even moments where he didn't want to anyways.

Another wail torn at Malik's most likely very sore and scratchy throat. It startled Jounouchi, as the Egyptian had been quieted down in the past half hour, causing him to get used to the muffled quietness that made everything else increase in volume.

"Malik-"

"We should have left." It was as if simply saying his name removed the plug that had been holding back any coherent words from being spilt in the past hour. "Things would've…would've been better if we had."

Jounouchi could agree that if they had left for Japan yesterday morning like they had originally planned instead of spending one more night in Egypt that things would be different. But, selfishly, he knew they wouldn't be better off than they were now.

"Malik," The sternness in his voice quieted the blond in his arms momentarily. "This was inevitable-"

"Like hell it was inevitable!" Came the interruption. Pushing himself away from the comforting chest, Malik gave Jounouchi a good look at how he was really fairing.

Blond hair was disorderly, lavender eyes strained and dulled considerably, skin having lost most of their irresistible tan in favor of looking more like death warmed over, clothing stained in scarlet - much like his own. All in all, Malik looked like some scarred extra in a horror flick.

He began talking again, "This - …What happened, could have been avoided, if - if I- …" Sobs were taking Malik over again, and Jounouchi took this as the right time to draw his arms around the teen's waist and pull him close once more. "This i-is all my fa-fault…"

"Stop." The order slid from his lips without his proper consent, but he was too busy trying to contain the sudden anger that flared up inside of him to care. "Stop that right this instant, Malik." He couldn't feel the tears on his face, but some part of him knew they were there like the ever constant stream still sounding from the kitchen. "This is not your fault." He let a pause slip before cracking an unstable smile. "And it ain't my fault either, so stop looking at me like that."

That made Malik laugh, though it sounded more like a few huffs. There was no doubt that he had been thinking of something along those lines, though. The Egyptian teen was never one to let anything get past him, and their relationship had never totally had been on the trusting side either. But Jounouchi wouldn't say that there wasn't trust in it at all. He thought it was best if Malik suspected him.

Gods knew that he was doing it to himself, if not minimally.

The moment of relief instantly vanished as soon as something - Jounouchi tried hard not to think of what - fell from the kitchen and made a wet thump against the tile. The reaction was instantaneous, in which Malik broke once more by flinging himself deeper into the other blond's embrace, screaming to the fading stars that he was sorry.

Now this Jounouchi had to ponder. What was he apologizing for? Perhaps it was because he still thought all of this was his fault. Maybe he was pitying the fallen, though no one could blame him if they themselves had walked into the kitchen and seen its new coating of red paint.

Yes, that would fit. But…

Another possibility breezed through his mind, something that made his insides go numb. Was it because of what happened to Jounouchi himself that is making Malik screech in such a horrible way? Was it that noise in the kitchen that brought the memory up?

Malik fell into confused silence as Jounouchi's dark laughs filled the room, their volume gaining as insanity blinked at his mind.

Why was he laughing…?

Probably because, ever since he and Malik had retreated to the far room, not once had he ever thought of what had happened to himself. The pain, the suffering, the torture. All of it burning into his mind and yet not really there at all.

Saltwater followed the trail of laughter, dripping down Malik's neck as uncomfortable shivers ran down his spine. If he wasn't so numb, he would've felt the pain that was likely still there, both physically and mentally.

"…Jou?"

It was nickname Malik only used to special occasions. This, he figured, would definitely be one of those.

Jounouchi pursed his lips, face turning stoic. No time for breaking when you were the only one left unbroken, he told himself.

"We have to leave soon, Mal." His voice was tight as he watched the sky begin to pale. "You know, like we used to."

With his face still buried into his chest, Jounouchi didn't need to know Malik was frowning and his tears were coming faster. "But…What if…"

There were many different things that would go after the phrase 'what if.' Many, if not all, were less than favorable. It was something to display doubt and fear without having to directly voice it, like saying, "I'm scared" or "I don't want to."

Jounouchi could understand. There were a lot of times where he had said the same thing, and right now, it was all he could think of.

What if, what if, what if…

"We'll just get through it together, okay?"

But they both knew together wasn't forever. It was likely that the same fate would happen to Jounouchi in the near future, and would continue to happen until the day he died. Though terrified, he could live with that, if only just.

He would bare through with it knowing that Malik would never be physically hurt.

Jounouchi never liked to mull over the mental aspects, however.

A litter shorter than I wanted, but whatever. I got a bit lazy at the end.

For me, the tragedy is very easy to figure out, but that's probably because I wrote it. I'd love to hear some guesses, though... (hint, hint)

As for the rest of my stories, expect an update for Let Me Comfort You in a little while (sorry for Circling fans).

Hope you enjoyed it~