Ryou sipped idly on an apple juice that a passing nurse gave him as he sat in the lobby tensely. Yami, who had allowed the pale teen to sleep over at his house for the time being, stared out of the window at the passing cars in the moist and inky blackness of the evening. He didn't really want to be there. He thought Bakura was a horrid influence on the white haired sophomore, and he wanted nothing more than the dark entity to be out of his life. But Yami, who was a very intelligent person, knew he wouldn't be able to do so without manipulation. He glanced over at Ryou, who was twiddling his thumbs about. He honestly worried about him. Ryou was so forgiving of that monster everyone called Bakura after everything that demon put him through. What he put everyone else through. It made his blood boil. After about five minutes of glancing to the window and to Ryou, he saw the thin teen shift in his seat and take a breath, preparing to speak.

"Um, Th-thank you for coming Atem…Yami." He stuttered, offering a small smile to make up for his awkward beginning. Ryou twiddled more fervently. He wished it was Marik sitting with him, because at least then he'd be comfortable and not feel any sort of irrational guilt for dragging him out on a cold night. Unfortunately, said person was at home cleaning at hyper speed to prepare for his sisters surprise visit, and he had to take extra time to train Malik not to be obnoxious. So naturally, Ryou was too afraid to take the trip by himself and stupidly invited his Yami's most hated individual.

"It's a pleasure to be here with you, Bakura." Yami said, intentionally calling Ryou by his last name.

Ryou frowned slightly at the odd way the name sounded in allusion to himself. Shaking his head at the absurd thought of changing his name to just Ryou, he stood stiffly and went to inform the front desk of his visitation. After a brief conversation, Ryou waved at Yami, who would catch up later, and pulled on the doorknob that lead into the main corridors of the building.

Ryou nibbled his lip nervously as he walked down the white halls towards the elevator that would take him to the pediatrics wing of the hospital. It was odd, he thought. After everything he and Bakura had been through with each other, or heck, the things that they'd done to each other, they were still considered pediatrics. Bakura. Ryou hadn't seen or spoken to the spirit in a stable state in days, and he was afraid to know how he'd react. The ping of the elevator reaching it's destination pulled him from his thoughts, and the doors opened slowly to reveal a retina burning slew of color. Ryou curled his lip and wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell of alcohol and medicine that flooded his nostrils. Portholes and fishing nets decorated the walls, and pictures of various fish were speckled about. Overhead, small plastic sea creatures dangled and swayed, creating the illusion of swimming. A pirate held up a saber with a large grin and stood with one leg propped upon a keg, with a bright green bird protruding from a peephole in the wooden cylinder. In the painted water was an entire ecosystem of plants and animals, all with smiles and bright twinkling eyes. A dolphin was propelling itself into the air, while a turtle floated along with a current. Ryou hated all of it. The pediatrics wing was easily the saddest level in the hospital, a place where children and teens struggled for their lives. The ceiling ornaments and intricate mural only served to distract them from their debilitating illnesses, and the smiling nurses instilled false hope in the dying victims. Future leaders, inventers, and adventurers died here; and every single one of them have laid eyes upon a bright wall decoration before they finally shut their eyes for the last time. The sea creatures mocked them as the dying children were wheeled away, reminding them of their life prior to their admittance and distracting them from their imminent death. Loved ones would peer into the beady eyes of a seahorse mural and just for a moment be so intrigued by its complexity that they would forget what they even came for. Why they were there. Who surrounded them. Ryou remembered with contempt for himself, being one of those that were enamored with the decorations of a Pediatric wing corridor.

He rumpled his eyebrows confusedly as his father tugged him along, whose palms were cold and sweaty. Ryou remmebered hearing his dad say something about cars and his sister, but at the moment he was completely taken by a sculpture near the middle of the hall. It was a strange oblong shape with a white wire trailing from the bottom. Was it a balloon? What was it? He wanted to know the answer very badly, and he was slightly annoyed that his dad wouldn't let him go look at it. Why was everything about Amane anyways? She always got the attention at home, what was so important now? His gaze was ripped from the sculpture as his dad scooped him up and quickened his pace, as the little whitehead wasn't moving quickly enough. He couldn't really get a good enough focus on the wall murals, which were bright depictions of bi-planes and pilots with goggles and scarves.

"Daddy?"

He went unanswered, and therefore decided to pout. His millenium ring bounced up and down as his father jogged and turned corners, entrancing him further than any of the planes are balloons. He didn't like the feeling the strange piece of jewelry gave him, and he furrowed his eyebrows slightly. He felt lightheaded when he looked directly at it. Something about the eye in the middle bothered him extensively. There was something hostile and foreboding about the way the dangly bits tinkered, and how it reflected light. The very center of the eye seemed abysmally dark, no matter how close you held it to the light. Dark, endless. Hatred. Fear. Rage? Why did he feel those things when he looked at the ring?

Suddenly he felt very cold and stiff. His vision went out of focus for a moment, and he was scarcely aware of his current surroundings as he felt the corners of his lips pull up . It wasn't a smile. It was a sort of grimace, a malicious sneer. The ring tinkled at him as he stared into the center, still wearing the frightening smirk. His vision went black for a moment and his mind was bombarded by a mixture of different images and memories. The one that stuck out the most though terrifed him to the very fiber of his being.

He remembered walking with Amane earlier that afternoon from the toy shop. They went together because she was upset that their father brought ryou home a gift instead of her that time, and she wouldn't stop crying.

"Here, take your sister to go get something nice from the store." His mom said, handing him a fistful of money and turning back to her laptop, which was open to a real estate website. They were planning a trip back to Europe to see family that summer, and his dad cancelled work and all of the lot.

"But mommy—"

"Ryou, not now alright? Mommy is busy."

His mind took him back to the sidewalk, and amane went on about how much she loved her new doll.

"Big brother?"

"Yes, amane?"

"My dolly needs a necklace. Can I have yours?"

Normally he shared everything with her, including his favorite action figures and favorite shirts and such. Although he was the older sibling, and a boy at that, he was very small, to the point where they could fit each other's clothes. They were alike in every other way, even in the face. People picked on Ryou at school for how starkly similar he looked to his little sister, calling him a girly boy and pulling on his snow white hair. He never payed attention to them though, despite all of the torment h received for his looks. He loved amane, and was glad to resemble someone he loved. They had their mother's hair, platinum and silky. It was something he was born with, and couldn't change. He was glad his little sister had hair like his too, so that when he played with her he didn't feel ostracized or different;

They were the same.

But his ring; He wanted it all for himself. He shared everything with his sister, and that was the only thing that he had that was uniquely his. No one else in school had one, no one else in the house had one, it was his and only his. He didnt anyone saying 'That's amane's necklace your wearing, you're such a girl!'. It was Ryou's necklace.

"…No. It's mine." He said, narrowing his eyes at amane, who in turn narrowed hers back defiantly.

"I want it!" She said, snatching it and running off. "Nyeh nyeh can't catch me!"

"Stop it!" He cried, catching up to her after a quick dash. She wriggled around and turned in different directions, holding it away from him.

"You can't have it!" She said, accidentally letting it go. It fell to the ground with a resounding metallic twang, and the metal had a small scratch in it.

Ryou felt a sudden anger rush into him, a white hot boiling rage that he had never felt before. Quite frankly it scared him immensely. It didn't feel like a human type of anger, one that was quenchable. This feeling was inhuman.

Demonic.

His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair roughly

"Ow! Big brother stop!" she whimpered, trying to pry his hand out unsuccessfully. "I'm sorry!"

"H-here! I'll pick it up for you..!" She sniffled, her face red and tear stained.

"It's mine." Ryou said, or growled rather. It was an animalistic, guttural sound that a normal six year old wouldn't be able to make themselves. He yanked yanked his younger sister up by the hair, staring her in the face with red, red eyes. Red like the color of blood, red like the color of anger and violence. The bleating sound of a car horn caught his attention briefly, and he turned and smirked at his squirming sister. It wasn't a smile either of them were familiar with. He glanced over into the road and heard his mother yell something at them, and speed down the road towards them to berate the young children on their behavior.

"Ryou…?" she whimpered, staring into those menacing eyes that didn't beling to her brother. She saw something inhuman in them, and her own eyes widened to that of saucers.

"You shouldn't play in the street."

"What—"

Screech!

Crash!

BOOM!

.

.

.

.

.

.

Ryou blinked and the scene dispersed immediately. No more screaming, no more popping and searing flesh. He couldn't see it anymore, and he didn't want to.

They were in the hospital because of him?

"Doctor?" His dad asked, frantic. He set ryou down on the ground a little too quickly and the small child lost his balance, plopping down on his bottom. The rough landing went unnoticed by the white head, as he was beginning to lose the little color he had in his face.

"Sir, please calm down! There was nothing we could do!" A nurse said, tears in her eyes.

"Their bodies were almost unrecognizable by the time we got to the scene sir—"

"Let me see them."

"But sir—"

"Let me see my wife and child goddammit!" He roared, snatching the doctor up by his collar. "Please…!" tears streamed down his face almost endlessly.

Ryou watched his father cry with wide eyes and began to shake.

This was his fault…?

"You're my master, and mine only. You belong to me." A voice in his head Whispered.

As he walked slowly past the turtles and dolphins, denouncing the recollection of something too far in the past to worry about at the moment, he peered into an open room door, with a few doctors and one security guard inside. A tiny crib was visible in between the white jackets and various bodies standing in front of it. No sound came from the lilac crib.

"Ma'am…" The head doctor said gravely, turning to a disgruntled young woman with tears and mascara staining her puffy and reddened face. Her eyes widened and she stood quickly, the chair she was seated on falling over.

"You've killed my baby!" She screeched, slamming her purse onto the floor and lunging at whoever was nearest to her. "You killed her!" She shoved the security officer off to the side and tried to reach the nurses as they tried wheel the corpse away, but was caught in the end. She kicked and screamed, flailing her legs despite her wearign a very short dress. Her blonde hair went in all directions as she shook and fought with the staff who were trying to console her.

Ryou just stood out in the hall, frozen in place to the scene. He winced when he heard someone get kicked in the stomach.

"G-grab her!" The victim choked out, clutching his side. The young woman burst out of the room in almost a full tilt sprint, her dead child in hand.

"Oh!" Ryou yelped as she slammed into him, throwing herself and him to the ground with the velocity of a sprots player's tackle. The child was flung from her arms somewhere over a pair of seats by the wall, soundless and lifeless as it flew through the air, and it hit the ground with a revolting smack. She looked at Ryou with a blank expression and smiled at him as two men in white scrubs snatched her away roughly, cuffing her hands behind her back with a special clasp. He sat on the ground, petrified. He hated the pediatric wing. Future adventurers, explorers—

"They'll kill someone you love too! They'll leave them to die! DIE!" She screamed as they whipped out a needle and jabbed it into her side. She was silent after a few seconds.

Ryou stared, wide eyed and frightened as they dragged her limp body over to a gurney and whe,led her off. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but they let him stay anyways.

"Excuse me, dear. Were you going to visit someone here?" A personnel member asked, reaching her hand out and helping him up.

"Y…Yes…"

"I'm so sorry you had to see that. It happens a lot on this floor, mothers aching over the death of their child. They've closed off the area where the baby's body is…"

"I'd like to see brother please, if you don't mind." He replied, his voice falling flat and his eyes unreadable. He hated the pediatrics wing.

Ryou pulled back the curtain belonging to Bakura's room tentatively. After the dislpay he had just seen, even a simple task such as this was frightening. For all he knows, Bakura couldve bled to death as soon as they had gotten him stabalized. No, they wouldve told him, and he wouldve reacted the same as the dead baby's mother. His face paled a bit when he saw neatly folded sheets and no one in them.

"Guh!" He shrieked as a passing man carrying green scrubs covered in blood turned to him with a smile. He trembled and raked his fingers through his hair as he pictured bakura's lifeless body on some examination table, surgeons stapling him back together and calling up a taxidermist . His imagination at this point was on cloud nine.

"S-sir are you alright?" The worried young doctor's assistant stammered, his eyes wide. That was a strange kid if he'd ever seen one. The boy's hair was stark white, and he had crazed looking mocha colored eyes, and was as pale as a sheet of paper. Must be a ward patient, he concluded. No one this strange could be sane. "Ah, are you lost? Do you want me to take you back to your room?" He asked, saying his words slowly as if to a small child.

"What? No!" Ryou exclaimed, stomping his foot. "Tell me, where's the boy who was in this room? Where is he?"

"What boy? Who are you talking about?" The young nurse said, taking a step towards ryou who in turn took three steps back.

"Don't be afraid, I'm going to help you..." He said, pulling off his gloves and disposing of them. Ryou noticed him take a short needle out of his back pocket.

"What're you doing?" Ryou uttered shakily, looking for a way out but noticing that he had backed into Bakura's empty hospital room.

"Stay still!" The nurse grunted, shoving Ryou onto the bed roughly and reaching for his needle, which by the labeling was a sedative. His muscles were taught and hard, ryou noticed as he tried to push the man off, grabbing at his arms. He was obviously fit, and probably lifted weights. Or pinned people down as a daily workout, because he was damn skilled at it. He held Ryou down with one arm and put his weight on him and uncapped the needle, which while short, was sharp and thick. It looked like a tiny dagger, and Ryou couldnt stand needles to begin with. The nurse, who's ID coincidentally read 'Ken' breathed heavily with the energy it was taking him to restrain the flailing white head. Ryou didnt like this crazed medical worker's name at all. It was too similar to another name he didnt like. "Quit fighting me!"

"Stop! Help!" Ryou screamed, flashbacks nearly crippling him. Here he was, shouting for help, laying under another man, and bakura wasnt there. Tears gushed involuntarily and he just stopped struggling all together. It made things less difficult, he remembered his attacker saying before he was brutally done away with. "Get off of me!" He yelled once more, just to get it out of his system. He bucked his hips as hard as he could and ended up bumping the nurse's arm right as he brought the sharp needle to his arm.

"Crap, you made me miss-oh, shit!" The young and rather brusque medical worker cursed when he noticed a small gash in his new patients arm, bleeding profusely. He hadnt brought his brute strength into account, or the boys lack thereof. When the skinny teen had lurched upwards, Ken's arm went plowing into Ryou's and when he tried to get up all he did was pull the needle downwards, creating a very non uniform slash, right next to another jagged scar already on the boy's milky arm. The syringe was empty, so apparently the sedative was in. It struck him odd though that the boy was bleeding so heavily though, and he panicked. He was an intern, an intern who was just trying to get some extra points in by helping a patient back to their room and ended up marring their arm, but an intern no less.

"A-are you okay? I didnt mean to do that, I just wanted to get you back to your ward where it was safe!"

"I'm not in a ward!" Ryou growled, his face paler than it should be and his words slurred. He tried standing, but crumpled to his knees clutching his heavily bleeding arm. His breathing had become a bit ragged, and he glared up at the wanna be helper. This too, brought back memories, but ones further back into his mind. Battle city. He glanced over and smirked, if thats what one could call it. It was really close to his other recovered injury. How Ironic, he thought as he moved his hand away from the seeping wound to peek at the already healed one right above it. He hoped at least this new cut didn't scar. That aside, he felt horrible. His underlying medical condition coupled with the strong sedative the dunce doctor in training drugged him with made him dizzy and tired and a little bit loopy.

"Ahaha..." He giggled in spite of himself. "Lucky me, I'm dying in a hospital...! Wait for me Bakura, hm?" He drawled, with a purely medication induced smile. He thought he was going to die on this hospital floor, and he thought Bakura was already dead. The funny part, he thought, was that he probably wouldn't go to heaven anyways. Irony was all around him today.

"What the hell is going on in here?" A voice sounding similar to the bleeding whiteheads asked, his question almost dripping with malice and anger. It dared someone to provide an answer it didn't want. It was a powerful and chilling voice.

"Baku..." Ryou slurred before tilting his head back, letting out a sigh of relief and closing his eyes.

"Ugh! I can't even take a freaking piss without something happening!" Bakura groaned,rolling his eyes and focusing his tired rage onto the male nurse, who was more terrified at the fact that he was seeing double than why the nicer seeming one was still bleeding.

"Youre the boy he was talking about-"

"The fuck did you do?" Bakura roared, throwing himself into a fit of coughs. His doctor told him he had pneumonia on top of everything else going on, which didnt make him any happier. It made him cough harder, if anything.

"I was just trying to help, and I slipped and-"

"Whatever I don't care! You'd better get someone, the little bastard is a hemophiliac. Type O positive, and hurry the hell up." Bakura grunted, stepping over ryou who was slumped over on the floor. He stared at his blood soaked bed, and smirked with hollow eyes just like how ryou had before. There was something nostalgic in the floor slick with blood, and ryou pale and in danger. It made him sick.

"Get me some new sheets too, huh?"

"Marik, my little brother!" Ishizu said gleefully, dragging the blonde into a busty embrace. Marik muttered a simple 'Hi' as he tried to pry his face from in between his sisters boobs. It was weird; when he was younger he hadn't noticed how massive they were. He just assumed they were all like that, But he figured it out when he moved to Japan during battle city.

His sister was must be a mutant.

"Nice to see you master Marik." Odion said with a smile, pulling him away from Ishizu with a chuckle. Marik smiled back, but tilted his head upwards when he realized he was smiling at odion's rib cage. Was everyone this freaky when he last saw them a year and a half ago? Did odion grow? Or did he just shrink? He probably shrank just now, what with ishizu's monster breasts sucking the life out of him.

"It's just Marik, Big brother." Marik said nonchalantly, but he puffed his chest out a bit. It had been a while since he was called 'Master' by anyone. "Want some coffee?" He asked, strutting into the kitchen and flipping his hair.

"Since when do you drink coffee?" Ishizu asked incredulously, Odion nodding in agreement.

"Oh, well I mean I don't really like it that much, but Mal-" He said, cutting himself off when the beginning of his Yami's name floated out of his mouth. Ishizu and Odion visibly stiffened and their gazes became hard at the exact same time.

"M-my friend MALORY, likes coffee. Because she's...American. And Americans like...Coffee." He said, blinking his eyes innocently. Here goes nothing, he thought. Play the little brother card in defense mode.

"Malory? What a nice name." Ishizu said warmly, defrosting the entire room. She fell for it hook line and sinker! Odion on the other hand stared straight at him, his eyes unblinking. Knowing. Laser beam shooting, Marik thought, if he tried hard enough.

"Yeah, I know." Marik said, suddenly getting the urge to pee. "Will you excuse me for a second? Stay right there, I'll give you a tour of the house in a second." He smiled, speed walking into the bathroom and slamming the door.

A few minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom with a sigh, no longer in danger of pissing himself. He met two pairs of ferocious eyes staring into his confused pair, and tilted his head to the side. There, Yuugi stood in a corner looking guilty.

"Hi yuugi! What's with the long fa- Fuck-PHARAOH!" Marik exclaimed, tripping and stumbling over his words as Atem stepped out from behind Ishizu and Malik walked out of his bedroom in his duck pajamas rubbing his eyes and yawning at the same time.

"Marik..." Ishizu hissed.

"So, how about that tour?" Marik whimpered helplessly. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

Bakura glared at the ceiling of his room, which was beginning to feel like a prison. He wasn't that worried about ryou as much as he was worried about that nurse who turned psycho. As soon as he was feeling better, he'd show that guy a thing or two about blood…

With an unceremonious grunt, Bakura sat up and stretched, careful not to agitate his recovering wound. It was strange, really. His memory was fuzzy, but he could remember one thing for certain; the screams of a man who's soul was being ripped from his very being. He hadn't heard that in a while, he noted with a slight raise of his eyebrows. The memory sent shivers down his spine, tingly and almost pleasurable. Another memory, this time of the man's face, who he also now knew was Tsukoshi's. It was twisted in agony as the shadows devoured him, and the recollection of the joy it gave him sent another sensation down his back, this one stronger.

"Hn…" He groaned, sitting up straight. He didn't exactly hate the feeling, but it was making him a bit wary. Bakura glanced around the room, making sure no one was rubbing his back for whatever reason. Nothing interesting caught his eye, and he sat back against the raised part of the hospital bed. He sighed as he toyed with the controls of the bed, raising the elevation of his feet in boredom. He didn't want to admit it, really he didn't, but he missed interacting with the strange dream child. He gave him something to hold his attention, talking to the boy or trying not to be killed by him, which essentially kept him entertained. It wasn't like he had friends to strike up conversations with, and when no one wanted to be around you because they thought you were a monster, well, it was a tad difficult making friends. To keep himself from dying of boredom rather than his injuries and a nagging case of early pneumonia, Bakura thought back to seeing ryou on the floor a few minutes ago. It was staggering how many things have changed, and how many things have stayed the same. The cut on Ryou's arm reminded Bakura of how close to death he had brought his hikari during battle city. Back then he hadn't known the teen was a hemophiliac, and the gouge he slashed into his arm wasn't supposed to do as much damage as it was supposed to be a distraction. If Bakura hadn't switched places with Ryou before Yami's attack hit, he would've died and Bakura would've been unable to enact his plan of revenge on Yami. What was he seeking vengeance for, anyways? Although he couldn't remember, it infuriated him that Ryou was so weak sometimes. His frailty could've cost them both their lives, in that instance and in the instance with tsukoshi. Ryou has stayed the same, he concluded. Weak and useless.

Another shudder graced the whitehead's spine, and this time he caught on. He glanced over at the Millenium ring, which was looking a bit more luminescent than before he had that thought.

"It's you, isn't it?" Bakura said to the ring, picking it up and examining it. "Who are you?"

He turned it over in his hands a few times before setting it down on his lap and rolling his eyes. Maybe these pain killers and antibiotics were really getting to him. He let his eyes slide close and tried to concentrate on sleeping, which was a little uncomfortable since his feet were up so high.

"Stupid bed…" He grumbled as he searched the blankets for the multipurpose remote that served as a TV clicker and a bed adjustment control. This tiny amount of time allowed his thoughts to wander freely again, and this time he thought about the dreams which had stop reoccurring so frequently. He felt like they meant something, but as hard as he tried he really couldn't remember why they were so important. Furrowing his eyebrows and pinching his forehead, he dragged himself back into the desert that first night and went over every detail he could recall. Little boy, fire, screaming people, pot of death. None of these things seemed like they were making sense, so he squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate even harder. Nothing. Where was his stupid hikari? The fact that Ryou was laid up in some room getting pampered by a bunch of nurses instead of paying him any attention pissed Bakura off and he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. He wished he had the energy to storm out of the room to yell at the teen, to get it through to him that he didn't like being ignored. He could see it now; he'd hop out of bed and not even bother putting on socks, because he didn't care about what his nurses told him and how his pneumonia would get worse. He'd barge into the room right as Ryou woke up and shout at the top of his lungs about how much he hated him and how negligent he was. Yes, he thought, his eyes would fill with tears and he'd beg him to stop yelling, but then he'd only get louder and maybe throw something at him with a snide smirk. A genuine sneer crawled across bakura's face as he thought of how terrified Ryou would be. He'd fear him once again, he thought, when all of a sudden a barrage of sensations traveled throughout his body, the epicenter being of course where he had laid the ring, which was his lap.

"Ah!" He breathed as he involuntarily arched his back, his eyes flying open. That was very pleasurable. He peered at the ring, which had a glow to it. Was he doing that, or what? It occurred to him that the ring only did that when he thought of Ryou. More specifically, harming or scaring Ryou.

"Wh-what the hell…" He stuttered as he slid the ring away from his crotch and laid it on his abdomen, eyeing it suspiciously. What was happening? As a small experiment, Bakura used his imagination. He thought of how he sometimes hit ryou out of frustration or just for the sake of hearing him cry…

"Nnngh!" He moaned as a delightful feeling skirted about his chest and zoomed up and down his spine. Okay, he thought. Something was wrong about this. As that last inquiry passed his mind, he suddenly became very sluggish and could barely keep his eyes open.

"Who…?" He slurred, closing his eyes completely.

"You." Answered a satisfied voice in the darkness.

You thought this was never going to get updated again didn't you.

Are you guys even OUT there anymore?

But yes, after a very long break I finally finished the ninth chapter, on a cliffhanger no doubt.

Yes, I AM an asshole.

A lot of stuff happened in this chapter, besides Bakura getting' jiggy with the ring.

One, we looked into Ryou's past a little bit more,

Two, a dead baby got thrown across a room,

Three, Malik isnt a secret anymore,

And four, Ryou got stabbed in the arm by a doctor who awkwardly reminded him of some crazy psycho rapist yakuza thug, and he's probably schizophrenic now.

Oh, and some of you may have noticed I didn't use his ACTUAL blood type.

It's a fanfiction, I can change it to whatever I'd like (Code for I was too lazy to look it up and it's a minor detail anyways).

NO QUESTIONS?

If you guys don't review I'm going to assume you're all dead and the story should die too so review before I kill it.

-Windy