Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Warning: Character deaths, may contain disturbing themes. Rating may change.

Her Sweetness: Late, I know. Try to ignore it.

—A Few Small Repairs—

Someone To Rescue Me:

Malik was worried.

Worried, verging on the point of being afraid. He remembered being on the couch with his companion in his arms; the boy had fallen asleep there and he had ended up resting his head on his chest and they fell asleep together. He wasn't sure how long they had stayed like that but less than a moment ago, the pale teen fell to the floor in a fit of convulsions. He began to retch and scream and yell something over and over again, though Malik could not make out this word.

Since that very second, he had jumped on the floor, trying to shake his friend out of what appeared to be a nightmare, but what seemed to be so much worse. Malik grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head and shook his shoulders with his free hand, all the while shouting his name so that he might possibly wake up.

He turned his head to the other side and moaned, arching his back up and screaming again, this unintelligible word. Malik called his name again and the convulsions stopped outright. He was left with a bit of shivering and was sweating profusely, muttering that word still over and over, sometimes Malik could make out, "Please…"

"Ryou… Ryou, wake up, c'mon." He slowly let go of his hands and moved both of his to the teen's cheeks, cupping his face and whispering, "Ryou."

Suddenly, his head snapped forward and his eyelids shot apart, revealing trembling, coffee brown eyes that screamed in their silence. Malik drew back, almost completely off the boy as his friend sat up and shouted at him, "O-Oh, Gods, please stop! Please, don't!" He grabbed himself, wrapping his arms around his own torso and cringed, doubled over and bringing his legs up to his chest, "Don't hurt him, I'll do anything!"

"Ryou!" Malik called, crawling up to him and shaking him yet again by the shoulders, trying to shake him out of his waking nightmares, "Ryou, calm down!"

He almost threw himself into Malik, now sobbing and screaming so loud that only a few words if any could be made out. The teen grabbed the tan teen's arms and jerked his head up so that they were looking in each others eyes, though one set didn't look as normal. He whispered harshly, but comfortingly in Malik's ear, "I will never let him hurt you."

"Who are you talking about?"

A gasp and a scream echoed from the boy's throat as he retched, "You're not going to hurt him! I'll never let you hurt him, he's my friend! He's my only friend! Malik's not leaving me!"

You don't really have a choice, sugar.

"Yes, I do! I've always had a choice! You won't hurt him! Ah…!" He winced and cringed in pain as the throbbing in his head pounded harder and the storm outside raged on. The power in the whole neighborhood was still out and in the dark, Malik grabbed his shoulders again.

"Ryou, listen to me! I don't understand what you're talking about, but no one's going to do anything to me, I'm always going to be right here!"

He clenched his eyes shut, "He's going to kill you! Can't you hear him?"

"There's nobody here!"

"H-He's… right here…" He sobbed, tiredly and winced, "Malik, can't you hear him…?" It was apparent that the pale boy was worn out. It was apparent in the way he looked, the way he spoke, his throat was drying from screaming and his face was red from crying. Malik was on the verge of tears now at the aspect of his best friend being in trouble, needing help, and he couldn't do anything.

Malik could only repeat, "I can't hear anything…"

"Then listen harder!" He shouted before sitting up and crushing his lips to his friend's. There was a moment, a small millisecond or choke in time where nothing happened. Neither one of them moved and the earth stopped just for this one second. Then, after that small millisecond, after the earth took a breath… Everything started up again and the next thing the pale youth knew, he was aggressively fisting the Egyptian teen's hair and forcing a groan out of the boy. Malik's eyes flew open, lilac orbs going slightly back and forth showing that his mind was trying to make sense out of what was happening.

Ooh, sugar, you just couldn't resist, could you?

Suddenly, the tanned boy pulled back, holding his hand over his mouth loosely and looking worriedly at his companion who seemed in some kind of daze, his eyelashes fluttering open and lightly chewing on his bottom lip.

He gasped, "Who said that…?"

The paler of the two smiled sadly and gripped at his chest, wincing, "Y-You could hear…" He muttered before a sudden scream ripped from his throat and he fell back to the carpet as his eyes dilated and rolled back in his head, the rest of his body shaking and his hands clutching at the ground, scratching at the rug and leaving deep gashes.

Malik looked on in repulsion and terror as the boy's chest rose and rose until it was two. His legs followed and his arms; they all split, forming duplications of themselves and before Malik knew it, there were two bodies on the floor. Two bodies. Two boys. Two best friends and though all movements had ceased, no more quivers or convulsions, he was more terrified now that nothing was happening.

A moment passed of unbearable silence before he uttered a word, "R-Ryou?"

He directed this word at the first body. The body he knew was his friend. There was something unmistakable about his presence, somehow his body was distinguishable from any other. Lighter, more fragile or more beautiful, there was something unmistakable about him. The other body, as Malik looked at it, was a bit sharper. And though that body wore his friend's garments and though that body had the same hair and face and colors, there was something unmistakable about this one as well. And this new body… didn't look real.

Malik ran his tongue over his lips quickly, a nervous habit. He looked at his friend who was still and finally breathing normally. And then to this new body which seemed to be… dead, not breathing or living. No chest movements. He wondered if it had a heartbeat, a pulse.

He was soon on his knees and reached out one bronze, slender arm to the body that seemed almost transparent in it's soft glow. His hand stopped just short of the being's sliver hair and, taking a small breath, he closed the gap and lunged his hand foreword. It was intercepted. By the being's light and airy hand, it no longer felt light or airy as it gripped Malik's wrist tightly and made a swift movement, pulling the Egyptian teen up and over said body.

Before he knew it, he was looking at his best friend's face. His face… but not his eyes; no, these chocolate cherry eyes, these pools of filthy blood were never that of Malik's friend. That face smirked and flashed ivory fangs, "So this is that beautiful, blonde Egyptian I've heard so much about." He moved his free hand down to the bare skin on Malik's lower back while his other hand tightened on the boy's wrist.

"Agh… L-Let go…!" He groaned then as sharp nails dug into his back, trailing down and leaving swift yet painful gashes. He cried out as he was suddenly flipped on his back and starring up at lustrous, gleaming eyes. Malik winced, his purple eyes shutting almost as the pain on his back and wrist intensified, "W-Who are you?"

A smirk tore his features in half as he leant in and whispered, "I'm a good friend of Ryou's…"

Before Malik could react to the freezing temperature in the look-alike's whisper on his ear, he was roughly thrown off of the body and crashed into the hardwood coffee table in the center of the living room. The wood broke in half and the teen had a fair amount of bruises by this time though he hardly had anytime to notice them before his shoulders were grabbed again; beautiful and glossy nails dug into his skin, feeling his back being slammed into the wall on the far side of the room.

He felt dizzy and disoriented all at the same time. Things were happening so fast and, in his mind, it was a mere second ago when he had looked down at his friend sleeping on his chest and was thinking that maybe he could save the boy after all. He remembered thinking that something so rare should be held onto. But now as his vision blurred and he looked away from the rain that now drizzled on the patio and into the face of this demon, he thought that some things were harder to save than others. And that some things weren't meant to be saved.

Malik felt his eyesight blur and felt his eyes film over with tears as he looked onto the floor behind the broken and shattered coffee table, down at the broken and shattered boy. He didn't even move.

The look-alike was grinning and had been since he'd seen the look of pain and anguish on his new victim's face. But now as he witnessed those beautiful, lilac eyes straying away from his own, he turned his head and found him starring at the pale teen on the floor. A fire rose inside him as he whipped his head around and pushed his body up against Malik's, pinning him even closer to the wall as he leant in and spoke softly but harshly, "Listen to me and listen to me well for I will only say this once. You are his crutch, his weakness. Without you, Ryou would have no doubts about what we should be doing and without you, he would be all mine. I will not let you cripple him, he's mine to tear apart."

His head snapped foreword, cringing as the look-alike's grip tightened, "I don't know what you're talking about! But whatever it is, I know Ryou and he'd want no part of it!"

"Don't be an idiot." He was close to Malik now, too close for comfort. His right hand around the boy's neck, gripping it, and his other still digging into the boy's back with those nails, scratching the same spot again and again, letting rivers of crimson run down and pool into the small of Malik's back before running down his pants. The look-alike scratched harder, forcing a throaty yell from the victim. "You think you can save him, don't you? You think that he's worth saving, worth all this trouble… You have no idea what goes on in that boy's mind. But I do. I'm locked away with him during the night and days and I'm locked away with him in his dreams and nightmares, watching him cry and fight for his life. Every night, he prays to a false God for relief, for someone to save him. Do you think you can be his God? Malik?"

By this time, Malik wasn't sure how much more he could take and just before he felt himself ready to loose consciousness, the look-alike let go of his back and moved his hand, his bloody fingertips to the boy's mouth that was open and gaping, gasping for breath and air. Those slender, pale and translucent fingers traced delicately around the bronze teen's lips, going in a small circle as the look-alike nudged his forehead with his own, "Malik? Answer me, Malik. Will you save him?"

He choked, blinking through tears and his voice was raspy when he spoke, "I'd do anything…"

The clone smirked and tilted his head to the side, letting both hands come around the boy's neck and almost massaging it in a vertical motion. "Anything? Well, that sounds like a perfect answer. But is it true…? Would you really give up something valuable just for him?"

"D-Don't hurt him…"

"I won't. I'll never hurt him." He clenched his fists around that sun kissed neck and shivered, seeing the fading light in Malik's deep purple eyes as he struggled against the grip. "But it's a shame that you won't be here to make sure I'm keeping my promise."

As a bit more of the color drained from his face, Malik felt himself slipping and thought he was numbing around the neck; all he could feel was a grip that didn't shake. His eyelashes fluttered, blinking slower and forcing the tears that had settled in his eyes to run like crystalline rivers down his face and dropping to the carpet. Strength leaving his arms, he let go of his weak hold on the look-alike's forearms and let them hang at his sides. It must've been a hallucination when he heard that angelic voice.

"Let him go."

Suddenly the hands around his throat loosened and out of the haze that clouded his lavender eyes, he saw the look-alike starring backwards at the lithe, frail body that was standing in the middle of the room; beautiful, hazelnut eyes were looking up, sadly yet strongly as he repeated in almost a whisper much too sinister for that face, "Death, let him go…!"

His features softened as he tilted his head, "Sugar, I thought you were asleep."

"I won't let you hurt him, let him go!" The boy cried, taking a step forward. It was apparent that he was already worn out and it was apparent that he had no energy left for this. His white hair had since lost it's silver luster and was now hanging limply by his shoulders, framing his face as he cried, bending down and feeling around on the floor, still looking up at Death and the boy he held still.

Death shook his head, turning back to Malik who coughed, silky, blonde strands hiding his blood streaked face, "I can't. Sugar, you may not know what's best for you, but I do. I will always have your best interest at heart… Our best interest." He had turned his back to the boy but was only like that for a second before hearing his call for attention and, whipping his head back to look at him, he stopped his advances on Malik and let go of him completely, dropping the teenager to the floor in an injured heap.

Malik's companion was standing with something in his hand. Something in his hand that was raised to his temple. That something with a black and yellow handle and rusty blood on the head, pushing slightly into the pale, flawless skin. The boy moaned, "Don't you dare hurt him or, I swear, I'll kill myself!" He sniffed, wiping his eyes with his free hand and giggling lightly, "You… you need me, don't you, Death? Without a body, can you really… hurt anyone? If I go, you go too, right? Y-You know I'll do it… I'm no use to myself. You said it yourself, when the rain stops, who will I live for? D-Don't hurt my best friend…"

He was mouthing words now. Malik was talking, but nothing came out and he wanted desperately to tell his friend to stop and drop the screwdriver. He wanted to tell him not to danger himself. But from all the screaming and clawing, he was too tired to even speak his name. They were both so very tired.

Death had long since dropped the boy and took careful steps across the carpet, stepping over the broken coffee table and making his way until he was standing right in front of him. Their eyes met, neither looked away or backed down and the only movement made was a sneer from Death, who looked at his look-alike in contempt, "You are very young, my love. Sugar." He looked back over his shoulder at the broken body on the floor who looked wearily back at him. Malik almost smiled.

"… It's never over." Was all he said before swiftly walking into the boy and disappearing into his body. A shiver came over him and he fell to the ground on his knees, shaking and coughing. It was a few moments as the albino got more of his strength back and he dropped the screwdriver, letting it roll across the floor and stopping at Malik's feet.

They managed to look at each other.