A/N: Inspired by the song of the same name by Voltaire. Specifically the end of the song. Bakura kind of comes off as OOC to me in this, but I figured that this would be the one time he'd understand another person's feelings.

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"Are you alright?"

No response.

"Malik. Say something."

"Fuck off."

The Spirit watched his new roommate pace the non-existent ground, and then flip around to face him, glaring viciously.

"I can't even fucking WALK in this place! It's like walking on ice!" he shouted.

Bakura shrugged. "That's because there's no real ground. You get used to it."

His words had a powerful and instant effect on Malik. "No…" he mumbled, shaking his head. "No, no no no no NO!" He collapsed into a pathetic, shaking heap on the floor, hands grasping his long blonde hair in agony. "I can't fucking GET USED to it! I have to fucking get OUT! I can't even feel anything in this place, I don't even remember how long we've been here…"

"I don't either." Bakura's voice was uncharacteristically soft. "There isn't really anything like time in this place. Or space. It's just sort of a void."

"So…" Malik choked out, "so this is nothing, then, is that what you're saying? I'm stuck in nothing? Forever?"

"Not forever. Until someone lets us out."

Malik made a funny little snorting sound, followed by a gasp. Then again.

"Are you crying?" he asked curiously.

"So what the fuck if I am…" Malik's voice was heavy and clogged-sounding. The Spirit had heard his share of crying in the thousands of years of his existence. But hearing Malik cry was…well, it sounded different. It sounded familiar.

"We might be here for another thousand years – shit, maybe it's already been that long…there's nothing here, nothing…" He collapsed onto the non-ground in small, shuddery breaths. "I can't even feel myself…I can't feel my scars…"

"Malik – "

Suddenly, Malik pushed himself up, his face contorted in fury.

"NO! Just shut the fuck up, okay, Bakura? Shut the fuck up. Just because you didn't have anything doesn't mean that I didn't either, okay? My family… fuck… Isis… Rishid… "

Bakura watched him on the ground with an unfamiliar twinge of feeling. He had never seen Malik so weak before. Well, weaker than a usual human – after all, mortality was weak by definition. But he had seemed, for a time, to be almost as inhuman as the Spirit himself. He had forgotten that Malik was just as human as all the other mortals that he had encountered in his increasingly longer lifetime. Of course, knowing that on the outside would only have led to him having even less respect for the skinny little Egyptian with daddy issues.

But not here, and not now. Now, as far as the universe was concerned, Malik Ishtar's only existence was a soul possessing an old Egyptian ring.

Now that was something he could have some sympathy for.

He approached Malik's huddled form and kneeled down next to him. He laid one long, pale hand on Malik's back, and reveled in the feeling of touching something in the void.

Malik looked up. "Why can I feel you…?" He turned shining purple eyes up to the Spirit above him.

"It has something to do with the fact that we're separate souls. You can't feel yourself because you don't truly have a physical body, and souls can't feel themselves because… well, that's just not how it works. But since we're separate entities, our souls can feel each other."

"How do you know that?"

"I've spent a very long time in this place," the Spirit said. "Malik, you're not stuck here alone. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

Malik didn't say anything for a while. Bakura stroked his back quietly, and inwardly hated himself for what a sentimental idiot he had become. Then again, who cared here? There was nothing but the two of them. And hell, he thought, wasn't he scared the first time he had been trapped in this godforsaken thing?

"I can't feel my scars, at least," Malik mumbled. He looked up. "Used to feel them twinge all the time. And…I guess I'm glad we aren't alone. Even if I'll probably get sick of you real soon." He sat up and crossed his legs, shifting in an attempt to get used to the odd feeling of no feeling whatsoever.

"See? It's not so bad when you're used to – what the devil?" Malik had thrown his arms around Bakura, and was clinging to him like a rock during a storm at sea.

"Please… just let me feel something for a little while…" he whispered raggedly into the Spirit's ear. This was pushing it, as far as Bakura was concerned. He had already made quite an emotional breakthrough today, he thought. But…

He wrapped his arms around Malik, and they sat in silence. Couldn't be a big, tough evil spirit for too long, he thought wryly. Might as well accept the company for what it was.

"I'm glad we're not alone too."

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