Sage: Dear Mourners, we are gathered here together to grieve for the loss of-

Yami: What are you doing?

Sage: Yami! Don't you know it's rude to interrupt an eulogy?

Yami:…An eulogy? Who died?

Sage: DarkHeart, of course. The reviewers killed her after the last chapter.

Yami:…..No they didn't.

Sage:….They didn't?...Damn it!

-0-0-0-0-0-

It was dark. Too dark. He shivered in pain, struggling to draw in a breath, and choking on the cold air he managed to swallow. He could feel his blood pooling out underneath him, dampening his clothes. The wound didn't hurt as much as it had. Part of him wanted to touch it, to examine it. But he knew better. He knew that would only make things worse.

How long had he been here, on this dirty ground? It seemed like eternity. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been laying here. But he knew he hadn't always been here. Visions of people, people he sparsely remembered. A man with blonde hair and kind brown eyes with a goofy grin on his face. A young woman with brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Another man who looked almost like him, but with confidence radiating in his eyes. He knew them. He couldn't remember them, but he knew them. He wanted to remember them because maybe they could help him. Maybe they could save him.

But, he had wanted to die, right? He wanted to die because he needed to protect them. They were in danger; they would've been killed if he hadn't allowed himself to be.

Except he was still alive. And he hated himself for it. He was supposed to die, and his friends—because he knew they were his friends—were supposed to be okay. If he was still alive, would his friends remain unharmed? Or would the man who stabbed him go after them? He wasn't sure. He couldn't only hope that this would all end soon and that he would just die. He was tired of living. He was tired of being a burden, of being helpless.

Somewhere in the distant, he was aware of the soft sound of people walking and talking along the street. Part of him wanted to call out for their help, it hurt so much. But another part wanted to just lay here forever until Death came on his swift wings and took him away. It was dark and he knew no body would be able to see him in the alleyway. He would just have to lay there and deal with it. He knew what he had gotten himself into when he told the man to do whatever he wanted.

However, he had hoped the man would go with a most swift option. He wondered vaguely about the two girls that had been murdered. Had their deaths been slow like his? Or were theirs fast and virtually painless? Maybe they had been and that's why he was suffering now. He had to make up for the pain the two girls didn't feel. If that was the case, then he would take the pain just so somebody else didn't have to.

But the girls were already dead. It was hard trying to feel sympathy for a dead person. But he would dead soon; maybe then he would understand better. Maybe he could be friends with them. They had all fallen victim to the same murderer after all.

It was hard understanding how someone could enjoy stealing another living being's life. He had always thought people were programmed to want to help and be with another. When we see someone sad and crying, we want to help them, to make them feel happy.

But he had to look back on his own life to prove his hypothesis wrong. Nearly everybody he had ever met had tried to hurt him in some way. School yard bullies, CPS agents, even strangers at the diner he worked at wanted to do everything they could to make his life difficult and worse yet, they seemed to enjoy it almost as much as the man had.

He could feel his breaths become heavier and sparser. It felt as though somebody had put a large weight on his chest. It was becoming so hard to breath; such a simple, thoughtless act was not only causing him pain, but causing him to think. He had to remind himself to breath, even though he knew he would only bring another jolt of pain. But he knew he couldn't not breathe. Even when he tried to hold his breath, his mind would force his lungs to inhale another gasp of cold, night air.

He wanted to die. He wanted the pain to end. He wanted the misery to end. He wanted to free his friends of his burden.

But he also wanted to be saved. But he couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let himself live. If he lived, his friends would die. And their blood would be on his hands. Because the man who had stabbed him didn't really care about his friends. He just wanted to hurt him. The man would do whatever it took to hurt him.

His thoughts were becoming fuzzier and harder to reach. He couldn't even remember his own name. He didn't have a name, though. He was just 'he'. Nobody else seemed to have a name either, so why should he?

The blonde was the kind brown eyes had no name. Neither did the woman with the brown hair and infectious laugh. The man who looked almost just like him was nameless as well. Then there was the man with the brown-dyed hair and the red glint in his eyes. He had no name, although 'Satan' seemed to fit.

The boy on the ground let out a dry cough, feeling blood come up at the corners of his mouth. His throat was dry and his lips were cracked. It was too late to call out for help now. He had been falling in and out of consciousness for the last few hours, he had known that. But this time he knew it would be different. The darkness was covering him like a blanket, and it was warm and soft. His eyelids were becoming heavy and near impossible to hold up. He let out one last strangled breath and then let a smile come to his lips.

It was ending. It was all ending. He knew that if he closed his eyes he would die, and again, part of him wanted to clamp them shut and be done with it all. But another part of him was fighting, struggling, screaming inside his mind.

Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake!

But that voice was becoming quieter and more distant. It was starting to take a great effort to listen to it, and he just didn't have the energy anymore. Besides, he could see Death in front of him now. He had no shape, or form, but it was obvious he was there. The boy could smell him. Death reached out his hand and placed them on his eyelids. He closed the boy's eyes and in doing so, the boy knew he was going to die.

He knew he would never wake up. He knew that there would be nothing on the other side for him, save for maybe Hell. He didn't deserve anything else. He had lied, and had broken the law, and had committed suicide. He had allowed a man to stab him, how could that not be suicide? He didn't fight back as the man did it, and even know he didn't call for help, even though he could've multiple times. He could've done something to save himself, but he didn't. Now he was going to die, alone in a dirty alley, crawling with rats and drug dealers, where his body would more than likely not be found until the next morning.

And he was content with that.

He allowed Death to close his eyes.

-0-0-0-0-

"You know," Yami said, putting his drink down on the table, "you seem pretty cherry considering every that's happened in your life."

Joey smirked and took a sip of his rum. "What do I have to be depressed about? I have a quiet roommate, my best friend is finally seeing himself as worth something, wonderful friends, and a new job."

"Well yes," Yami said, "but what about everything's that happened in the past? Sure, things are looking good now, but how were you a year ago? Two years ago?"

Joey paused for a moment and sucked on his lip, the light leaving his eyes. "I try not to dwindle on the past. Yugi doesn't. That's one thing he's taught me in the time I've known him: worry about the present, not the past or the future. Because right here, right now, is the only thing that matters."

The bar was beginning to quiet down as time rolled into the early morning hours. The bartender had given the duo several nasty looks, insinuating him wanted them out so he could leave work early, but the two would have none of it. They wanted to talk and drink, and that's what they were going to do.

"You can't honestly tell me you were always this optimistic though."

Joey sighed and looked down. "No, I was not. I'll tell you; when I saw Yugi with that first black eye, I was going to kill the man. Yugi begged me not too, though, and…I really had no choice unless I wanted CPS to come knocking at my door. So I let it go. But for weeks after that, I made sure to keep a good eye on that man. I didn't trust him the first moment I saw him, and I wasn't going to now.

"Over the next few months, either Yugi became a really good actor, or things seemed to have gotten well with the two. I went with the latter because that's what I wanted to believe. It was a stupid mistake on my part. I was angry at Jack, but I was furious with myself. I kept telling myself, 'If I had done something sooner, If I had gone looking sooner, then none of this would've happened.' But of course it did no good.

"Look, if you had known me three years ago, I probably would be just like any other guy. But those two years?...I try to move past them as best I can. It doesn't do anyone any good staying in the past."

Yami found himself amazed at how calm and mature Joey was as he spoke. He sounded so old and wise, but at the same thing, Yami couldn't see past the stubborn, hard-headed teenager he was. He had seen more shit in his life than Yami ever had. Yami found himself inspired by his and Yugi's story, by their resiliency. They were more mature than most adults Yami had come to know in his life. He was amazed at how they were able to rebound from such a tragic event, and brush it off like it was nothing.

So Yami had to think: Had they recovered from the situation, or were they repressing? Because it seemed there was no way you could be pain-free from such an event, no matter how long ago it had been. There would always be the memories, and the scars. You could never make those go away no matter how hard you tried. They were permanent. No matter how much you scrubbed, or how hard, they would always be there on the skin and on the mind.

There was no running away from it. Maybe it would be easier for Joey to try and forget it, but what about Yugi? Joey had witnessed it, but Yugi had lived it. Yugi had been there, affected by everything. Just the thought of knowing what Yugi had gone through was enough to make Yami ill. But he was just a bystander. Yugi had actually lived through it, all on his own. Yami wondered what it had been like for Yugi, living with an abusive man.

Had he been scared the entire time? Hurt? Yami had to chide himself; of course Yugi had been hurt, this man almost killed him.

And Yugi acted like it was nothing. It was nothing that he had once been on Death's door. Yami couldn't understand how Yugi could walk around with a smile on his face every day. It was miraculous.

Joey downed the last of his drink and nudged Yami in the shoulder, catching his attention.

"Hey," He said, "Let's get outta here. I'm tired of Pops over there givin' us the stink eye."

Yami looked over to see that the bartender was still glaring at the two of them, and it was a little unsettling. He agreed silently and the two paid the tab before exiting the bar and walking back to the apartment uneventfully.

It was near two in the morning and traffic had become almost nonexistent. There was still the nightlife, with other bars and clubs open, and even a few women standing beneath a street lamp, with dirty cigarettes in their mouths and fishnet leggings.

They walked up to the apartment where several of the lights were still on, but flickering.

'Just think,' Yami thought, eyeing Joey, 'with this job, he and Yugi can move. They don't have to live here anymore.'

And it seemed that Joey was thinking the same thing. When he had been emancipated from his drunken father, this was the only place he could afford. It was shabby, and in dire need of work, but for two years this had home. It had been where he came home each day from work, where he had slept, and eaten. He had something to come back to here; he had his best friend, and a bed. It wasn't the best of places, but it was better than where he could be.

Joey sighed. He walked up the stairs and Yami quickly followed. The blonde opened the door, surprised to see the light on. "Huh." Joey said aloud, walking inside. Yami was right behind him. Joey's eyes scanned around the room, seeing nothing out of place, until they stopped by the couch.

In front of it, was the coffee table, and resting on that, was a manila folder. Joey recognized it instantly, and he knew that wasn't where he left it. He quickly walked towards it and picked it up, noticing how some of the corners had been slightly creased. His worry deepened.

He threw the folder down onto the couch. "Yugi!" He called. Yami raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Joey didn't respond. Yami watched Joey race into a bedroom he presumed was Yugi's and was out within two seconds. His eyes were wide and filled to the brim with worry.

"He's not here." Joey whispered, panicked. Yami felt his heart sink into his chest.

"What do you mean?"

"He's not here!" Joey yelled. "It's two in the morning and he's gone!" Joey put a hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialing numbers. "Oh, I'm going to kill him when I find him!" He placed the phone up to his ear.

A loud ringing could be heard. Both sets of eyes slowly followed the noise, not wanting it to be true. Yami reached out his hand and grabbed the ringing phone from the coffee table. He flipped it open, and the ringing stopped.

Joey slowly removed his phone from his ear. Yugi had left his phone. He never left it, he never forgot it. He knew that was the only way he and Joey could contact each other in case something happened, and he had left it. It had to be on purpose, Joey knew there was no way Yugi would forget it accidentally. But why would he leave it? Where would he go that he didn't want Joey to know about?

He watched Yami begin to press buttons on the phone, watching his face become pale. "I think you should see this." He said quietly, handing the phone over towards Joey.

Joey snatched it away, eager to see what in the hell was going on. He saw a list of all the text messages Yugi had received and sent. He began to read them. And his heart sank even further as he went down the list.

The number was listed as unknown, but Joey could tell who it was just by reading them. He could hear the sadistic voice behind the letters and it scared him. Yugi had been in contact with Jack for the last few days.

Why didn't he tell him? Joey felt himself grow sick as he read; he didn't want too, but he knew he needed too. He needed to find out where Yugi was. He had read the file. He now knew about the murders, and how Jack had tried to kill him. He wasn't supposed to figure that out. God knows what he would do with that knowledge. Yugi had read the file and he had run off somewhere.

Joey swallowed as he read the last message Yugi had sent out near ten o clock.

It ends tonight.

Indeed it does.

Joey felt his throat tighten up. "Shit." He murmured, unable to comprehend what was happening. Yugi had gone after Jack. He had been gone for nearly four hours. What could have happened? Joey didn't want to think about what kind of situation Yugi was currently in. He knew all of Jack's violent tendencies, and if they were planning on, 'ending it', God only knows what would happen. What's could've already happened. Joey didn't want to think about that, but it had been four hours.

Joey reached up and began to pull at his hair, berating himself. I shouldn't have left!, He thought. I should have stayed here. He wouldn't have left if I had stayed here. He would be okay if I stayed here. He wouldn't have gone after him if I had stayed here!

Joey growled and shook his head again, trying to fight back the angry and worried tears that were threatening to fall.

"Shit, shit, shit." Joey threw the cell phone down onto the couch and then ran to the door, but was stopped by Yami.

"Get out of my way!" Joey cried, trying to shove his way past the older man. He was taller, but Yami held his ground and would not move.

"We can't just run around blindly!" Yami argued, but his voice was full of worry as well.

"Like hell we can! He'll kill him! He could've already!" Joey reached past Yami and managed to get to the door knob. He turned it and pulled, the door opening inwards and hitting Yami in the back.

"Ow!"

Joey squeezed past Yami and started down the stairs. Yami followed quickly behind, shutting the door on his way out. Joey had already made it to the street. He stopped to turn around and gaze at Yami for a moment.

"I'll search north!" He cried, his voice starting to crack. "You search the south side!" And with that, Joey disappeared into the night.

-0-0-0-0-

He didn't know where to even begin his search. Yami hadn't spent much time exploring this side of the city; he didn't even know if he was going in the right direction. For all he knew, he was searching east, or west. Not south. But still he trudged on, because he was worried about Yugi desperately. He couldn't believe the younger teen would go off on his own, after his abusive ex. He thought Yugi had more sense than that.

He searched around every corner, every street, and saw no signs of the boy. His feet were sore and tired, and he felt himself needing to sleep. But he just pushed himself forward, forcing himself faster. Yugi had already been gone for at least four hours now. Who knows what could have happened to him in that short period of time?

The street lamps flickered and buzzed, making it hard to see around him. Yami coughed and wrapped his jacket around himself tighter, feeling the night air nip at his skin. He wondered how Yugi was doing, even though he knew he shouldn't. He only knew what Joey had told him about Jack, and even that little tidbit of information hadn't been good. But Joey was a sensible man, and there had to be a reason he reacted the way he did. Which scared Yami.

If Joey was scared, then something really had to be bad. Yugi's life had to be in desperate danger—which only increased Yami's anxiety even more. He could feel his heart pounding like a drum, feel his temples and jugular throbbing with each step he took. He was scared, he was so scared. Yugi was missing and could be severely hurt—dead even! And while Yami didn't want to think of that, he knew it was a strong possibility, he knew what kind of man—if he could consider Jack that—Yugi was meeting up with.

But then there was the question why. Why would Yugi go after a man that had nearly killed him? The text messages he had read between the two were incredibly vague and nearly useless. The only reason he had shown them to Joey was because of the last ones that had been sent out just a little while after he and Joey had left.

They shouldn't have left. They should have just stayed at the apartment and gone to bed. This wouldn't have happened if they hadn't gone anywhere!

Yami hadn't drank a lot, but he had enough to get a buzz. He could feel that energizing him, if only a little bit. It was enough to help him trudge on, despite his exhaustion. But his ultimate motivator was fear. The fear of never finding Yugi, and the fear of what condition he would be in should he be found.

It was enough to make Yami cry. And he couldn't recall the last time he had ever cried.

He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he spaced out. Everything became quiet to him but that was all broken in an instant when he heard a young woman's cry nearby.

"Oh my god!" Her screech filled the night air, causing Yami to jar his head up and run towards the cry.

There was a woman with dark hair and a large coat, standing on the edge of the street with her knees buckling. She had her hands cupped around her mouth but they were shaking.

Yami ran closer and came to a screeching halt when he saw what the woman had screamed about.

She slowly took her hands away from her mouth as she looked over towards Yami. "Oh my god…" She whispered it this time, tears starting to fill at the corner of her eyes.

Yami couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. But, he had no choice. In front of him was an alley way with a bundle lying in the center. There was a pool of blood underneath, and the unmistakable colors of Yugi's hair.

"Yugi…" Yami whispered, feeling his voice get caught in his throat. He walked slowly into the alleyway and kneeled down, turning the bundle onto it's back. He let out a sob.

Yugi's face was pale and ghost-like. His eyes were closed and skin felt cold. Yami's hand moved down to his stomach and he grimaced when he felt the coagulated blood. He didn't want to be too rough for fear of breaking the clot, but he felt the need to know what had happened to his love. Based on the amount of blood that had stained Yugi's shirt and the ground he could only come to the conclusion that Yugi had either been stabbed or shot. Both sounded unpleasant. He wished this was all a dream and bit down on his tongue to prove that this was a nightmare and that Yugi was okay.

But he felt his teeth on his tongue and that was it. The dam broke and Yami cried. He reached over and touched Yugi's face, pulling it down near his neck. He felt a weak pulse. It was soft and irregular—but it was there. Yugi was alive. For now.

He looked up at the woman who was crying, staring at sympathetically.

"Help him." Yami whispered, having trouble finding his voice. The woman looked confused.

"HELP HIM!" Yami screamed, not intending to be mean or malicious, but too caught up in his own grief to care for social graces. His love was dying in his arms.

The woman came out of her trance and dug into her pockets pulling out a phone. Yami could hear her, but she sounded distant and far away.

"Hello?...I need an ambulance. There's a boy and he's bleeding—"

Yami rubbed the back of his hand against Yugi's cheek and received no response. He felt tears drip from his eyes. "Please…" He whispered and begged, "please hold on. Don't die Yugi, please don't die."

"He looks like he's been here for a while." The woman's voice was fast and panic filled. "He's unconscious and—"

With his free hand he took hold of Yugi's hand. "Hold on, hold on. Yugi please, I love you. I love you so much. If you die…I don't know what I would do with myself. I don't think I could live without you."

He remembered the first time he met Yugi back at the diner. It had only been a few weeks ago, but it felt like forever. He remembered Yugi's memory lapses, which had seemed to all but go away within these last few weeks. Yami wondered why, but was too upset to give it much attention at the moment.

He heard the woman give the address they were at and she was having a hard time keeping it together. Yami felt touched. She didn't know Yugi, she didn't know him. But she was upset and scared for him, nearly sobbing for a stranger.

Maybe humanity still existed.

"Please hurry." The woman said. "I don't know how much longer he can hang on—he's really bad."

"Don't die Yugi. Do not die. I'm begging you to hold on." Yami could no longer process his emotions. He didn't know what to think or what to say. All he knew was that Yugi had to live.

And that Jack had to pay.

"Please Yugi, please. I love you. I love you."

In the distance, he could hear the sounds of a siren.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Sage: So if DarkHeart's not dead, where is she?

Yami: Probably ran away from your crazy ass.

Sage: I'm not crazy!

Yami:…You held a mock funeral for your friend without even having a body.

Sage: That's a lie. DarkHeart's not my friend.