A/N: Hey people! I hope this update was faster than the last… I'll babble more at the end of the chapter. I have something unimportant to tell you.

Shattered Crescent

Part Thirteen

Ishizu's eyes glanced between the chair and the window before returning to Malik's. "Look at what you almost did…" Her voice was breaking under the emotion but her calm and collected nature won over and she didn't jump to hug Malik and she did not cry.

"Sister, I…" Malik looked away, wishing he could somehow wipe his eyes without his sister noticing. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I was worried about you."

For some reason, the words stung. "How's Rishid?"

"He's fine. Everything will be alright once you're home."

Malik couldn't even face his sister and he knew there was no way he could ever look Rishid in the eye. "I can't come home."

"I won't leave you here."

Malik felt anger rising in him. He clenched his fists, glaring at the doorframe. "You can't decide what I do with my life." He fought hard not to yell.

"Not even when what you do affects your whole family?" Ishizu's voice held the same tension.

"I was trying to make things right," Malik ground out.

"By trying to kill a man? Trying to kill yourself?" Ishizu raised her voice, the control snapping. She hardly ever yelled or lost her temper.

"There was no other way!" He didn't turn to face his sister but the voice he had hoped to be firm was more of a cry than a yell. "I had to-I… After what I did…"

Ishizu placed a hand on his shaking shoulder. "Malik?"

"I couldn't tell you because I knew you'd hate me." His voice broke further. The show of affection was too much. "I gave him too many pills, sister." He knew she would understand.

Neither said anything for a while. Ishizu pulled Malik to face her by the shoulder and he let her. Arms wrapped around his slouched form. Malik didn't move to return the gesture but he didn't try to get away either.

"I trusted you with his medication so I am as much responsible as you are," Ishizu spoke, her head resting against his shoulder.

"No, Ishizu-" Malik wasn't allowed to continue.

"It's officially a suicide and it's better if we consider it as such. You can't blame anyone, least of all yourself, or Kaiba Seto."

Ishizu pulled away but kept her hands on Malik's shoulders, studying his face. "If you want to make it up to us, live."

Finally, they had arrested somebody. The chief was out flaunting their success, forgetting to mention that they had had help. Ryou had kept a close eye on the man behind bars, the small hope that maybe this would be it washing away during the early hours.

The evidence, dug up for them by KaibaCorp, told that he was responsible for that poor girl's father's death but that was about it.

It was difficult not to be at least a bit disappointed that the arrest didn't lead to anything bigger but Ryou knew he couldn't dwell on it. After the initial joy, the people in the station were falling back on their earlier passive state. It seemed that the short burst of hope had ended up driving everyone even deeper into hopelessness. Ryou was close to being with them in spirit.

He decided to concentrate on his work for the first time in a while. His concentration had been directed elsewhere when KaibaCorp had interfered but now was the time to look deeper into the scene with the dead reporter. Despite how horrid the latest murder appeared, it was difficult not to look at the photos. Ryou lifted each to get a closer look, placing the ones he had gazed onto the desk, arranging them into neat lines. No picture was out of line, all within the same distance from each other.

Ryou couldn't stop the frown from deepening as he came to terms with what he was looking at.

Something was breaking the pattern. There was no missing limb. Ryou felt out of the loop, though he knew he shouldn't; there was no "loop" to begin with. Still, most of the city associated him with the murderer. Maybe there should be a "loop".

Ryou's eyes widened. The citizens thought there was a connection and that was because…

"What was the name?" Ryou snapped the question into the air while searching the file for the information needed. A shout of "No way!" almost escaped him as he read the name he had only glanced at before. He recognized it. He had written and drawn stuff around this man's name not so long ago. Back then he had been so angry but now, as he stared at the name, he felt nothing but numb confusion. Could this be a coincidence?

"No…" he concluded. It was stupid to think the murderer didn't read the papers. 'ED' might not be the most reliable source of information but people loved gossip and all things scandalous. Given that the scandal stayed far away from their lives, of course.

Ryou sat down and started to fiddle with one corner of a photo. It was possible that the murderer hadn't liked the article, either. But wouldn't that mean he didn't like all sort of publicity? The things presented as facts about Ryou had been worded not to be flattering but the murders hadn't been criticized too much so…

He felt a headache coming on. It was difficult to hold everything together anymore. Maybe there was no sense in all of this. Maybe his coworkers were right and this was a case of a mindless killer. It just struck him as odd that the limbs hadn't been going missing anymore, not in three victims. Ryou almost laughed at his own, morbid way of counting time. 'Three victims', he was horrible. If he was tired enough to think a life as time unit, he should be heading home, or to a mental institution.

Ryou glanced up to see if anyone was at a hearing distance. When no one was around, he leaned on the desk, counting fingers as he spoke. "First no-limb-victim, amusement factor… The second…" Ryou paused, glaring at the finger, not wanting to speak his thoughts aloud anymore. Speaking made things more real, which was his issue but his thoughts would be more manageable if he heard them.

He took a deep breath. "The second… me." He could see his name carved with neat cuts. "But the third…" Ryou thought of the newspaper, realizing that his thoughts were heading to a territory he did not want to go. He jumped right in anyway. "The third… us both." Though he had been the one getting badmouthed, he had been presented in a bad light. Shouldn't the murderer be glad? Why kill the reporter? Ryou refused to consider that the man had died because he wrote untrue and insulting things about him. That would be just… insane.

Ryou smiled and shook his head. Stupid. When had he started thinking that he mattered in the greater scale of things?

Ryou's eyes snapped open when the voice calling his name got through to his sleep-fogged mind. Stiff and disorientated, it was a good thing he woke up to a familiar face.

"Honda..?"

His neck hurt when he raised his head and saw the other scolding at him like to a misbehaving child. "You didn't even get home last night," Honda muttered as if to grasp the situation. "I knew when you weren't at home and didn't answer your phone you'd be either with him," he jerked his head towards the door, "or here."

Ryou blinked, peeling off a photo stuck on his cheek. "Him?" He craned his aching neck to see behind Honda whose muttering was a tad too silent for him to pay much attention to it.

"Please tell him to stop calling you 'Ryou-muffin'…"

Bakura wiggled his fingers, leaning on the doorframe and looking rather amused. Ryou blushed in embarrassment, silently cursing Honda for letting Bakura catch him like this. Was this supposed to be some form of cruel punishment?

"You don't look too happy to see Me."

"Er…" Ryou rearranged his face so he wouldn't look like a sour puppy and managed a smile. "I am happy; it's just that I, uh…" How did that sentence continue?

The other waved it off and tried to shoo Honda out with the same motion. Honda glared, not moving an inch. "I fell asleep on My work once, had a perfect backwards copy of it on My cheek the next morning."

Ryou doubted the truth behind the story but appreciated the effort to make him feel better. Surely a painting would smear if someone fell asleep on it rather than copy itself on the sleeper's face. It was nice to notice that his brain was starting to work again. "How come you're here, anyway?"

"Your friend asked Me to come." Bakura gave a vague gesture towards Honda who changed his mind about not moving and inched to the door.

"I'll… leave you two." The next words were directed to Bakura, spoken more firmly, as if he wouldn't carry them out unless reminded. "Take him home, make sure he eats and gets some rest."

"Honda, I'm fine." Ryou's words fell to deaf to ears.

With one last look Honda was out the door, leaving Ryou unsure what had warranted such worry. Bakura's face gave him no hint as he searched it. The other had watched Honda go, too, but now turned back to Ryou, smirking. "So, will you come peacefully or do I have to drag you out of here."

Ryou started arranging away his photos as a sign that he would comply. "What did he say to you?" Ryou saw Bakura shrug from the corner of his eye.

"Ranted about your sleeping problem, and how you skip meals and bury yourself under all that work," he pointed at Ryou's stuff. "He seems to think that I'm more help than he is. Also, he doesn't like Me."

Ryou smiled a little. "You haven't been very nice to him."

"I haven't been mean either," Bakura pointed out. "What kind of a man can't take a little bit of taunting?"

"A little bit?" Ryou asked, thinking that it was a lot more than that. "Everything you say to him is meant to put him down."

"Good thing it's not him I'm dating, isn't it?" Bakura sounded more snappish than Ryou had heard him sound before so he decided to drop it for now, not in the mood for a fight. It was true though that Bakura had been nice to him, in his own way, and had offered a shoulder to lean on when Ryou needed it the most.

Trapped in his thoughts for the time being, Ryou didn't pay attention to his hand that went to ease the tension in his neck.

"Are you sore?"

Ryou brought his hand away from his neck. He had been busted. "No, not too bad." He tried to smile, show that it wasn't a big deal and nothing Bakura should concern himself with. The other did, however, move closer, removing his hair from his neck and placing it over one shoulder. Cool fingers found their way to his skin and started working to ease the ache.

"You don't have to…" The protest was weak and went ignored. It did feel good, the touch, and Ryou found himself relaxing, leaning into it.

"Tell Me if I'm being too rough."

Ryou 'nnh'ed as a response, to tell Bakura that he was being gentle enough. Lips on his neck startled him and eyes he couldn't remember shutting snapped open. Something wetter, hotter, ran across his neck and after a moment's hesitation Ryou decided that it felt too good to stop now so he lent back to let the other work. Up his neck to his jaw line, to his mouth. The angle was awkward, with Bakura standing behind him, but not enough to stop Ryou from enjoying it. A more rational part of him tried to remind him that they were at the office but it was overshadowed by his body telling how nice Bakura's fingers felt caressing his neck and throat, dancing on his jugular. Ryou was sure Bakura could feel his heart rate getting faster.

The mouth on his started to move away and Ryou let out a whimper before he could stop it. He could feel Bakura smirk against his lips and cursed himself for being so needy, pulling away to calm down. It had been just a kiss, for crying out loud!

It took him a moment before he could look Bakura in the eye again. He didn't like the glint he was met with; it was too teasing, too knowing.

"I should get you home."

Ryou nodded, getting up from his chair to gather his things. He let Bakura pull him out by the hand even though he had agreed to leave without resistance. On their way out, his eyes met Honda's across the lobby. The other smiled at him but it only served to worry Ryou further. Honda didn't look happy; he looked defeated, even sad. He turned away just when Ryou got dragged out the door but the expression continued to haunt Ryou.

"Um, Bakura?" The other turned to him, slowing down a little so Ryou was no longer dragged behind. "What did Honda say about… you being more help than he is?"

Bakura seemed think it over. "He said you'd listen to Me since you hold Me in such high value." He smirked at Ryou's puzzled expression. "He thinks I'll replace him one of these days."

"But…" Ryou frowned. "You can't… I mean, he's my friend and you are…" Bakura was something so much more but Honda, too, was important, in a different way. Honda should have realized that. "I have to go back."

The hold Bakura got on his hand got tighter. "No, no. Wait." Ryou stopped to listen but kept glancing back to where they had come from. "If I let you go, I won't be doing My job and he'll never get off My case." Bakura grasped his chin to get his full attention. "Just let it go until tomorrow. You worry too much as it is."

Ryou moved to nod but realized that he couldn't so he whispered a tiny "yes" instead. He didn't agree on worrying too much and whether or not he would let it go until tomorrow could be questioned. What he was agreeing on wasn't all that clear to him. Bakura let him go.

"Let's go home, then." The strange choice of words didn't register to Ryou so he didn't realize it should bother him somehow. He yawned once they got through the door, while toeing off his shoes.

"Go to bed, Ryou. I'll fix you something."

He smiled at Bakura but instead of letting him leave for the kitchen, pulled him with him. "That can wait. Stay by me for a while." The other raised a frown but let himself be led.

The curtains were still pulled in the bedroom just like Ryou had left them the day before. They fit the single bed by lying down just so, both sideways, holding each other so neither would fall. Bakura's fingers found Ryou's scalp and the other sighed but it wasn't the content sigh that would have fit the situation.

"I still feel bad about Honda…" Especially since he was feeling so good right now.

It was Bakura's turn to sigh. "Ryou…"

"I hate the thought of him being sad just because I'm trying to be happy," Ryou confessed. He knew he had just ruined the peaceful mood, ruined their moment. "I think I should stop trying. People get hurt when I do." The light filtering through the curtains would have been enough for him to see Bakura's face if he had lifted his head a little. But right then, Ryou didn't think he wanted to see his expression. "Solving difficult cases makes me happy but for there to be a case, people have to get killed, and now Honda…"

The fingers in his hair had stilled and without realizing, Ryou held his breath, waiting for Bakura to say something.

"You're so silly." The fingers started again. "I can see why your friend is worried; you don't think about yourself enough." Bakura pulled Ryou a little closer. "Now sleep, foolish little thing."

Ryou didn't care for the "endearment"; it wasn't much of a step up from "Ryou-muffin". "I slept not so long ago…" Not that he wasn't tired or would mind sleeping right where he was.

"Yes, on a desk, after working most of the night," Bakura muttered. "I'd like some sleep, too. Close your eyes, worry-too-much."

There was no helping the small huff that escaped him. Ryou closed his eyes despite how he wanted to argue. "Stop calling me things like that." Bakura didn't reply.

Bakura stayed awake after Ryou had fallen asleep. He was tired; what's-his-name had woken him up with his emergency call. Worrying too much seemed to be contagious; he just hoped he wouldn't catch it. Ryou was fine now. As fine as anyone could be with him, anyway.

The thing with moral dilemmas was that they didn't go away by ignoring them. No matter how happy the arrangement made Ryou now, he would get hurt eventually. Ignorance was the easier option, the one that allowed Bakura to hold, and kiss, and touch Ryou without any additional feelings.

In thought, Bakura dragged his fingers through Ryou's hair. The other sighed, nuzzling closer. Bakura bent his head to see the sweet smile, in time to hear the soft murmur.

"'kura…"

It made his heart to stop for a few beats' time, provoking something in him. Guilt was a feeling he hadn't felt in years. He hadn't cared enough to.

Watching Ryou's sleeping face, he wondered if he had gotten in too deep. How much did he mean to Ryou? If he had cared about the other in the beginning, Bakura would have kept the relationship from becoming too serious. The problem was that he hadn't given a shit and now that he might be starting to, it was too late.

Slowly, careful not to wake Ryou, Bakura got up but now without planting a kiss on Ryou's forehead.

"Don't love me, don't you dare."

Ryou whimpered in his sleep, his arm searching for his companion but Bakura was already out the door.

A/N: "Don't love me, don't you dare" is from a song by Sonata Arctica, The Vice. The verse goes something like: "Don't love me, don't you dare/ I lie, I cheat, and I don't care". It reminded me of Bakura so I had to refer to it somehow. The chapter title is also from that song xD

Review and give me something to think about. Or if you feel like it, kill some of my brain cells. I have too many of those. Honestly.