It has been two months since Yami Malik was sent to the shadow realm. For Malik, after the stress of moving, it has been peaceful. Or at least that's what the blond Egyptian thought as he sat in his room, looking out the window.
"Peaceful, yet boring as hell." He muttered, laying his head on the window sill. The only thing he missed about his life before was Ryou Bakura, but he didn't think about that now. The only thing he thought about was how bored he was.
"Maybe I should play a trick on Odion... or maybe Isis. No, Isis is working. As usual."
Isis had begun to work for the Egyptian government again, and she was always busy and stressed out. Malik had avoided her for the simple reason that she snapped his head off every time he went near her. Sometimes he wondered why she didn't just stop working. They had plenty of money…
Odion had come with them from Domino, fortunately. Malik would have died of boredom if it wasn't for him. Unfortunately, Odion had come to expect Malik's pranks and tricks, and knew what most of them were before they were even played on him. Go figure.
This explained why the afore mentioned Egyptian was bored. But suddenly another light bulb went off in Malik's head. They lived in a very large mansion in the outskirts of Cairo, so large, in fact, that the Ishtars hadn't even gone in every hallway of their large home.
So why not change that?
Malik dashed out of his room, running down the large hall that held most of the rooms in the house. All of the lights were on, because none of the mansion's inhabitants liked the dark very well.
The blond male dashed down the hall, amazed at how long it was and all of the smaller corridors branching off of it. But suddenly he stopped.
In front of him was darkness. This was the end of the hall. But there was something wrong.
Malik's ears strained against the piercing silence, looking for the slightest noise. Then they heard it.
What the pierced ears heard was the rasping of someone's-or something's- breathing. It sounded as if the creature was having trouble doing what everything needed to do to live, as though there was something clogging its thought or as if something was wrong with it.
Malik gulped as the thing at the end of the hall stirred slightly. He took a step forward, inching closer to it. Finally he was close enough to touch it. It was covered by a black substance of some sort, of what sort Malik couldn't tell in the dark.
His gentle, tan arms wrapped around the form. He felt it shiver and stir again. Malik stood and cradled it against his chest, walking towards the light. But as soon as he saw what he was, the Egyptian gave a loud scream and dropped the injured thing.
It was his yami, or what remained of him. Yami Malik was emancipated; his once strong and lean body nothing but bones now. You could very clearly see his ribs through the tight black shirt he wore, his stomach practically nonexistent. One of the scars from the tomb keeper's initiation under his eye was infected and inflamed, his eye painfully shut. Yami Malik's body was shivering and shuddering. The other, good eye was partially closed, partially opened, glaring up at his hikari. Malik could have sworn he heard the starved yami growl at him, but the Egyptian was too busy gauping at his wounds. Finally the growl turned to silence; the only noise his raspy, fast breathing. Malik naturally kneeled next to Yami Malik, wrapping his arms around him and dashing to the miniature hospital.
The mansion had its own 4 bed 2 doctor hospital, just incase of an emergency. Malik knew that this classified as an emergency. The Egyptian now sat in the waiting area, having delivered his quite angry burden. He shooed away the nurse that was trying to tend to his large bite on his arm, which was slowly bleeding a small trickle of blood.
But what Malik was really confused on, was the fact that he even cared what happened to the body snatcher. Ever since he saw the almost dead shred of his personality, the Egyptian felt sorry for him. But now Malik was angry at himself, he was supposed to hate the yami. His lavender eyes narrowed angrily.
But then the doctor walked out from the room they had taken Yami Malik into, removing his torn gloves.
"He is going to live. But he won't be able to take care of himself for a long time."
Malik looked at the doctor as he spoke.
"But he is too dangerous to be seen at the moment. He maybe weak and half dead, but he is still fierce." Before the doctor left the room to leave Malik to contemplate, he removed his gloves, that were torn to shreads. Malik frowned deeply. What was he going to do? Surely he wasn't going to take that thing in. He should kick it out on the street to die. But somehow Malik just couldn't bring himself to even think about how he was going to do it. Suddenly a nurse walked out of the room, smiling gently. In her arms was a sleeping Yami Malik.
The doctor gasped as he walked out into the waiting room.
"Iora! What are you doing?"
Iora smiled gently and stroked the sedated creature in her arms.
"He would whine and threaten every time I went to leave the room. I had to bring him with me, Sota."
Sota gaped at her.
"You are insane, aren't you?"
Malik hung his head.
"Our doctors are out of their minds."
Sota glared at Malik.
"She is. I'm not."
Iora frowned and continued to pet the practically unconscious Yami Malik, then turned to Malik.
"I'm afraid he is going to have to stay with someone who can give their full attention to him. And since doctors, or nurses, in my case, can't devote their time to something so frail, your sister is always busy and he doesn't like your brother, it looks like you have to take care of him."
Malik also frowned, but his frown was more of in weariness at the waking Yami.
Yami Malik's glazed eyes slowly opened, a deep growl forming somewhere in his thought. Iora stroked his hair again, but gave a cry of pain and dropped the angry dark Egyptian as his jaws snapped down on her hand.
Yami Malik snarled at them, backing into a corner. His eyes were looking around the room wildly, as though afraid and lost.
Malik was slapping himself mentally as he prepared for what he was about to do. The Egyptian crouched onto the floor, inching closer to the yami. He knew that his hand would probably be torn to ribbons, but he couldn't stand the terrorized look in the Yami's eyes.
Malik's hand slowly extended out, the growling increasing. But there was no snapping of jaws as his hand touched Yami Malik's face. Even in his horrible, half dead condition, the skin on his face remained smooth. After a few seconds the growling stopped, but the yami's eyes still held the distrust to the hikari. Meanwhile Iora had slipped up behind him, holding in her hand a tranquilizer needle. The second it had pierced into his arm, Yami Malik tried to whip around in a rage and tear her to shreds, but Malik grabbed him by the back of the neck and held him still. He let out a shrill cry of anger, but then fell silent as the tranquilizer took effect.
Iora sighed, gently pushing Yami Malik into his hikari's arms.
"If his infection seems to get worse, just tell us. Give him this," the white haired-blue eyed nurse gave Malik a container of pills, "and make sure he eats at least every 3 or 4 hours. And be sure that the food has lots of calories and fat. He only weighs about 65 pounds, so be careful with him. He's pretty frail. And look out for those claws; he doesn't seem to like you much. You should probably cut them."
Malik picked the Yami up, running out the door before Iora could add anything else.
Back in Malik's room…
Malik had set Yami Malik's sedated body down on his bed, covering him up with the blankets. He made sure to do it gently, but in his mind he was in a rage of fury.
'I can't believe I have to take care of this… thing! He killed my father, tried to kill my brother and sister, nearly killed me… Why do I have to take care of it?"
He wanted to scream and vent his anger on the thing, but he knew he couldn't. Just then the door opened.
His narrowed lavender eyes turned to see Iora the nurse standing in the door way.
"I'm just coming to check on him. Also you dashed out before I could say that his own body heat isn't going to be able to keep him warm enough. You might have to cuddle him or keep him warm with your own heat."
At this point Malik began to gap at her.
"Oh Ra. Someone kill me now."
Iora smiled at him gently as her slender body sat down on the bed, proceeding to place her hand on Yami Malik's forehead.
She gasped, drawing her hand back.
"He is already pretty cold."
Malik frowned, muttering. But hesitantly, reluctantly, his arms wrapped around Yami Malik, pulling him into his lap. His ears strained again, but this time he heard a growl. Malik looked down at the Yami, growling himself.
Yami Malik immediately quietened down, knowing he wouldn't win if he fought.
Suddenly the door whirled open, crashing into the wall with such force that Malik was sure there was a hole where the white painted wood door had hit. In the doorway stood Isis, in her blue pajamas no less.
"Malik Ishtal! What in the-"She was cut off from a loud snarl from Yami Malik, who immediately shut up as Malik slapped him lightly on the cheek.
Isis stared at him like he was mad.
"What is that… thing… doing in here?" She screeched. Bad day at work. Greaaaaaat.
Iora smiled nervously and left, leaving Malik there by himself, with a psychopath in his lap and an angry older sister. This was going to be fun.
Malik growled at
her.
"You think I want to take care of him?" He frowned down
at the glaring and growling Yami Malik.
Isis just shouted and threw her hands in the air, stalking back downstairs to the very large living room.
Malik glared out the door, the turn his heated glare down to Yami Malik.
"I hate you, you know that?"
Yami Malik glared up at him, his voice no more than a rasp.
"I hate you too, you know that?"
Suddenly the door opened yet again.
"Damn it! Go away!" Malik screamed at the door, but his face immediately softened and frowned as he realized who he was talking to.
Ryou stood in the doorway, his large, chocolate brown eyes watering.
Malik immediately slapped his forehead repeatedly in his mind.
'Stupid stupid STUPID!'
"Ryou…I didn't mean it. I thought…" Malik's lavender eyes widened back to their normal size, pushing the yami roughly out of his lap and rushing to the Briton.
Ryou frowned, looking down at the ground.
"I'm sorry…I should have called before I came down here." He whispered.
Malik scowled under his breath at himself. How could he hurt his friends feelings that badly!
"No… I shouldn't have yelled. I'm sorry... I thought you were my sister, and I'm frustrated…"
Ryou sighed, wiping his eyes and looking at Malik. He was a little bit flushed because he had been crying a little, but he had stopped now.
"Why are you frustrated?"
Malik frowned as Ryou asked the question he knew the white haired male would ask.
"Because… my yami's back. And I have to take care of him."
The Egyptian walked back over to the bed, and then pulled the scowling Yami Malik into his lap again. Malik patted the bed next to him, signaling for Ryou to sit.
Ryou took the hint cheerfully, sitting next to Malik. His now curious brown eyes watched the little black blob in the larger of the three male's lap.
Yami Malik growled, curling up around the other Egyptian's sleek, muscular torso.
And thus began Yami Malik's slow, steady recovery. Ryou returned to Japan in a week or two, leaving Malik alone with his yami. Yami Malik slowly became dubious to Malik, then finally tolerant. He became stronger and stronger, until finally he was only about 5 pounds under his original weight. Then the letters came.
This is sort of a prequel to Return to the Stage of Battle Ship! If you can tell.
