Eggs, that's what the air smelled like. Malik hated eggs, always had since he was small. They smelled bad, and they made him sick. The fact that they came from a chicken's ass made it less appealing to eat.

It was too bright, wherever the hell he was, and that was even more disorienting than what he smelled. Marik never made eggs, because Marik hated them too. It was the one (and only) thing that they agreed on. Furthermore his room in the basement had no windows. Eventually, by the process of elimination, Malik realized that he obviously was not in his home (though it could hardly be called such a thing).

Malik chanced a peek as to where he was and quickly shut his eyes again. Maybe he was dead, and now was in hell. After all, he hated eggs, and here the smell was permeating the air. Malik decided that he must have died in the kitchen after taking off the handcuffs. When he had 'awoken', he probably was on the path to hell. Falling into Bakura's arms was probably just some asshole in hell deciding to torment him.

I never did get to lie in his arms... Malik thought sadly. If this is all hell has to offer though, then this is almost heaven compared to being alive.

After all, Marik would never go to hell (as much as Malik would've liked him to), so if there was no Marik, then it really wasn't that bad. Malik opened his eyes again, observing the drab room. The bed was comfortable, and the only other item of furniture was a dresser. Blinding white walls and a pile of clothes in the corner, it was as desolate as a desert.

Malik sat up, and finally decided to see where the smell of eggs was coming from. For all he knew instead of hell, this might be purgatory. His body ached, especially his head, and when he stood up the world spun like a merry-go-round from hell. Malik took his time down the stairs, grasping the railing so he wouldn't fall over as the world danced crazily around him. As he neared the kitchen, the smell got stronger, so strong that Malik almost dry-heaved.

Although Malik felt like shit, he could never remember feeling so relaxed or calm, especially at the same time. It definitely proved he was dead, and it proved the theory that he was most likely in purgatory or hell. When he rounded the corner into the kitchen though, all of his theories dissipated as he saw the person cooking the eggs was, in fact, Bakura.

X

Jeeze, I hope he likes eggs... I thought while scrambling said eggs in a pan. Argh, who doesn't like eggs? Why the fuck am I making eggs for him anyway? Yeah, okay, he was obviously fucked up like no other, but for christ sake, it's not like I'm his... My thought trailed off as I heard a gasp behind me. Whirling around I saw Malik standing in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at me in shock.

Disgruntled I muttered, "What? Never seen a guy cook eggs before?"

Malik's shocked expression flitted into a look of confusion, "Yeah...but, why the hell are you in purgatory? You're not dead..."

"Yeah, and neither are you. Granted, you have a really bad concussion, but you're far from dead."

Malik gazed at me with a flat expression, then closing his eyes he sighed, "Shit, there goes that happy feeling."

Shock turned to outrage but I decided to push that away for now. Sighing I asked, "Do you want some eggs?"

"No," He replied wearily, "I hate eggs."

Getting annoyed again I inquired, "Do you want anything?"

Malik shook his head and sat down at the table, putting his head in his hands. With an exasperated sigh I sat on the opposite side of the table and stared at him. After a long silence he finally muttered, "What?"

"Why would you rather be de- no, scratch that. I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that question." I glared at his lowered head, "Why do you hate eggs?"

Those violet eyes looked up at me in disbelief, "Huh?"

"Why do you hate eggs?" I persisted, "Everyone likes eggs."

Eyes narrowed he responded, "Well, obviously everyone doesn't if I don't like them."

"You're avoiding the question."

"And you're annoying."

"Just answer the damn question!" I retorted caustically.

"I just don't like them, okay?!" He snapped, "They make me sick." Putting his head back in his hands Malik muttered, "Just leave me alone."

"I would have if you hadn't fallen into my arms at your doorstep. But, you did, so I brought you home because I figured that you and Marik were not just scuffling like brother's do. He's abu-"

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!" Amethyst eyes blazing, the chair he had been sitting in shoved over, he pounded a fist on the table as a shriek of inarticulate rage spilled from this throat.

I watched in shock as he tore at his hair and punched at the wall, leaving impressions of his knuckles.

"Malik! Calm down!" Grabbing his arms I pinned them to his sides and he crumpled in my grasp, becoming dead weight. Holding him up I lowered him to the floor and he drew himself up into a ball, crying.

What should I do? Oh my gawd, what do I do in this situation? I'd never seen anyone like this, and the fact that he was my best friend wasn't making it any easier.

"Malik?" I inquired, "Malik...please stop crying."

He continued to cry and not knowing what else to do I picked him up by the shoulders and hugged him.

Awkward... Malik was now crying into my chest, my shirt sopping wet from his tears.

He sobbed some words, though I didn't quite catch them, but he sobbed them again, and I heard it this time.

"Please don't hate me."