A/N: Here's chapter 2! Once again no guarantees about the quality, but I love everyone who reviewed aned wanted me to go on with this!

Special thanks to Windswift for planting plot bunnies in my head.

Enjoy!

XXX

An early winter breeze skimmed Bakura's face as he went up the walk to the house. The sun sat high and harsh over the barren trees and dead grass. All and all not an overly cheering scene he thought, pushing through the door into the house. Though the temperature was warmer, the colors more cheerful in here there was still something empty about it. The bright chairs seemed out of place, and the air filled his lungs with ice, even though the thermostat was set fairly high.

Ryou was nowhere to be seen, and Bakura let the boy have a few minutes before going in search. Days like this were common, he often came home to find that his counterpart had beaten him, school proving unbearable most of the time for the younger teen. On the good days they would walk home together, they would talk, and sometimes even laugh. Those were the happy days, when Ryou's face was bright and cheerful, his eyes alive and sparkling. Those were the times that he came out of his nightmare and into a blissful dream.

Then there were the bad days. On those days he was lucky to see Ryou at all. He would go to find him unmoving in the morning, his face fixed with that frighteningly blank expression. They didn't laugh on those days, they didn't even talk. Ryou would come home early from school, unable to handle it, and Bakura would come home to the chilled house alone.

He'd known that morning when he'd come into Ryou's room to find him transfixed in front of the mirror that it would be a bad day. It made him sad, especially after having so many days where he was alright, to see his hikari like that. On mornings like that Ryou reminded him of a mirror himself. He was cool, blank and distant, and oh so easily shattered. It took so little to unbalance him, send him spiraling into things he couldn't understand or cope with. Bakura ached for him, watched him walk on eggshells every day, neither one of them knowing when he'd finally fall through, when the glass lake they skated on would explode into a thousand pieces and leave him stranded.

Shaking his head he walked slowly up the stairs, holding his breath. There was no telling what would be waiting for him. He knocked on Ryou's bedroom door, but even though no one answered he walked in. It was an unspoken agreement between them.

Ryou sat on the bed, tears coursing down his face, which was expressionless and staring blankly at the opposite wall. Bakura felt his stomach lurch, watching him cry. The tears trailed down his cheeks like his face was porcelain, barely leaving wet marks behind them. He'd seen something like that before he knew. The image gnawed at him, and he wracked his brain for a moment and then felt all the blood drain from his own face. Except for the large teardrops Ryou's face reminded him of the 'soul dolls' of so long ago. The sculptured look of it, the blankness, he could hardly bear it for a moment. Striding swiftly over to Ryou he wrapped him in a tight hug, feeling nothing back.

"It'll be ok," he whispered into Ryou's hair, trying to shake the frightening images out of his mind as he murmured. Ryou was alive, he breathed and moved of his own free will, he loved and thought, and controlled his own emotions. Bakura was not seeing another doll, another empty shell. He felt the soft touch of a hand on his back, and realized he must have been shaking. He straightened up slowly, wiping Ryou's cheeks with his fingers, kissing him lightly.

"What's wrong?" He was stunned, it had been so long since Ryou had asked something of that nature, since he'd been aware enough to see the world around him. So long since he'd come out of his dazed dream world. Bakura smiled slightly, feeling the horror fade slowly. Of course nothing like that could happen, Ryou was his own person and always would be. How could he have given himself to such a silly fear?

"Nothing, I was just worried about you," he said, running a hand lightly through Ryou's hair. The boy looked up at him, and Bakura felt a thrill of happiness go through him as he watched Ryou smile.

"No need to worry," he said softly, continuing to give that beautiful slight smile. Unable to help himself Bakura leaned down and pressed his lips to Ryou's. They held like that for a minute, each reveling in what it was to be alive, alert, free.

XXX

When he came home alone the next afternoon he found Ryou lying amidst the pieces of the shattered mirror, his face as calm and placid as that of a little carved doll.

Though beautiful, dreams exact a high price, one higher than most can pay.

XXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Thank you for your attentiveness.