Disclaimer: Same as always.

Authoress note: YAY! I fiiiiinaaally updated!!!!! Sorry it took so long.

After hours of accusations and questions, Bakura trudged into Ryou's hospital room. The white walls gleamed and reflected the overcast world beyond the window. It had been two days since Bakura had taken his hikari to the hospital. He'd had to. Having been paniced and half intoxicated on endorphins himself, he'd been brash. Or that's what he'd thought. When he got to the hospital and turned Ryou in for treatment, he'd passed out himself in the waiting room.

The doctors had told him that if it had been any longer, Ryou would've died. That struck him very hard. He hadn't tever thought of life without his fruity hikari.

Then one of the nurses had turned him in saying they saw similar cuts in similar spots on him. They treated him, amazed that he was still coherent. The came the blame game. They wouldn't leave him alone. The kept asking if he cut often, if he'd convinced his "younger brother" to do it, if Ryou watched him, if he did drugs or drank, and many other such questions. They even dared to ask him if he hated Ryou, if he'd plotted for him to die. He'd answered as truthfully as he could, or as he allowed himself to. But one thing shocked him. The thing, the phrase he'd said the most. With every response, he uttered an "I love him." Those three words had never escaped his lips before. And here he was, trying to convince these people he cared about Ryou.

Now there he was, sitting in his room, with nothing save the drip of the IV feeding his hikari the blood he'd lost, trying to convince himself that he held no feelings for Ryou. That iut didn't matter if the little fruit died. But as he sat at the bedside, watching the other's chest rise and fall, waiting for him to wake, he couldn't do it.

He loved Ryou, like a little brother. And he desperately wanted to see his pure brown eyes open behind his shimmering silver bangs. He longed to see a smile cross those light pink lips, forming adorable dimples on his pale cheeks. He wanted him to live. Hewanted it so badly hot streak rolled down his face. His longing was so intense, he held Ryou's hand just to feel the slight warmth. And with each moment longer, he felt more and more comfortable. He Sat there with his eyes trained on the fuctions of the precious body before him. Leaning up, he pressed his ear to Ryou's chest, closing his eyes and listening to the beat of his heart. Bakura had never stopped to listen, but now that sound was the only comfort he found to be useful.

A moment later he found himself sitting in the bed with his hikari, the boy's head rested on his chest. This felt so odd. To be so close to someone and care about them so much that he refused to leave. As his fingers played and threaded themselves in Ryou's hair, he seemed completely content. There was a slight groan from Ryou as Bakura laid himself down and held the boy protectively.

"Bakura . . ." His hikari spoke in a soft voice, as if calling to him. The yami sat there, slightly stunned. Even now, even after all this, Ryou wanted him to be there. Smiling like never before, he whispered:

"I'm here, Ryou, you don't have to worry." He couldn't stop smiling as the form relaxed against him.