Happy Halloween!

The morning air was cool and crisp and smelled vaguely of the rain they'd gotten the previous day. Malik took in deep gulps of it, his breath coming in gasps as he paced back and forth on the wooden deck. Tears threatened his eyes again and this time he could do nothing to ebb their flow, and a broken sob rattled from his open mouth. He wrapped his arms around himself, stopping in his tracks as he broke down.

Everything from the last 48 hours churned and gurgled like a pot of boiling water, bubbles of memories popping at the surface; chaotic, disorderly. Bakura, avoiding him because he was afraid to pass on. Bakura, wanting to kiss him so badly he resorted to sighing on Malik's lips face in a cruel imitation of the act. His fight with Bakura. Amir running out of the house in a panic and returning with Ryou, hair soaked and tangled, looking terrified as he stayed at Amir's side. The knowledge that it was his fault, that everything was probably his fault, and the demon was able to finally properly possess Ryou because of his lapse in judgement. Ryou and Amir both being so close to dying, two of the four (five?) people who were most important to him. Ryou being locked in the basement. Rishid's stress and anger and his breakdown. The sight of Rishid, his immovable big brother, crumbled in their sister's arms like a crying child.

It was all too much to keep in now, and the dam holding his emotions back burst, nearly sending him into a panic attack. He hugged himself as he sobbed, hoarse, fragmented sounds that made his throat hurt. He held his breath in an effort to stop them, and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, but he couldn't stop. It was too much, and he'd been bottling it up for too long. He had to let it out.

He was alone for only a minute or two before he felt another presence, and when he glanced behind him he was greeted by the sight of Bakura looking at him with an odd expression. He stood stiffly, and Malik remembered that even if they had talked a little bit last night, they hadn't made up after the fight. Bakura was probably still mad at Malik, but even with that thought in mind Bakura's presence made Malik relax a little, and he offered his ghost a shaky smile, wiping his tears away again.

"You're supposed to be downstairs," he said as he turned to Bakura. Because nothing was fail proof, Rishid had asked both Malik and Isis to ask their ghosts if they would keep an eye on Ryou and warn them if anything happened. He'd been surprised by Bakura's willingness to complete such a boring task for them, but he never complained.

Bakura shrugged. "Eh, Kaiba's got it covered. Zorc hasn't done anything but scream since we got down there. I doubt he'll do anything now." He took a step closer, his hands in his pockets. "Besides, you need me more right now."

Malik stared at him for a moment as the words registered, but once they did his smile grew, and a few more tears slipped down his cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb and moved to sit on the porch swing.

"You've been able to feel my emotions this whole time, haven't you?" he asked, brushing his hair from his face as he leaned back against the wooden swing. He kicked off the ground and tucked his legs up under himself, letting the seat swing back and forth. "You said something about them going haywire last night."

Bakura shrugged again, still wearing that odd look. Malik couldn't even begin to decipher it. "Yeah, they were. Usually I just block them out but lately they've been too powerful to ignore."

Malik averted his eyes. "Sorry."

"Fuck that, I don't need an apology, and the last thing you need is even more guilt." He moved forward to sit on the swing, the wooden edge of it slipping through his body twice before he managed to shift his weight onto it. He crossed his legs at the knee, his form lagging behind the momentum of the swing so he clipped through whenever it changed direction. "I know I'm an asshole, but even I don't want you to feel bad for some stupid bond neither of us wanted."

Malik nodded, more appreciative of Bakura's consideration than words could express. A sincere thank you could only mean so much when it wasn't followed by a tight hug, or a tender kiss, and thus Malik was unsure how to proceed. He smiled when Bakura looked at him, though Bakura glanced away soon after. Perhaps Bakura could feel his gratitude now that his side of the bond was open, and the possibility gave Malik some comfort.

When Bakura was quiet for more than a minute Malik took his phone out again, opening it right back up to the contacts page. It was nearly seven now, and his shift started at nine. He'd have to call by at least 8, as policy dictated, but the second he selected Mr. Ando his fingers froze, and his stomach filled with dread.

Bakura watched him deliberate the call button for a moment before saying, "Mr. Ando? Isn't that your asshole boss?"

Malik nodded, rubbing the lower half of his face. "Yeah… I have to let him know I won't be able to come in for the next few days. With Ryou being…" He hated to even think the word 'possessed,' much less say it out loud and make the reality of it even more real. "Like this, I would never be able to focus. And Rishid needs me more. I don't care what he says, I'm helping him whether he likes it or not."

Bakura nodded. "So what are you going to tell him? I don't think exorcisms count towards sick leave."

Malik's lips twitched at the corners, trying to grin. "That a friend of mine is in the hospital, and it's serious, and I'm too worried about him to do my job effectively. I've already talked to a few of my coworkers and they said they're fine pulling doubles for the next few days to give me the time off, but…" He trailed off, biting his lip.

"But Mr. Ando is an asshole and won't see reason," Bakura finished.

"Yeah…"

He took a deep breath and moved his thumb towards the call button, but hesitated, his anxiety spiking. He was a good employee. He'd never called out for any unnecessary reasons. He'd only used his sick leave when he had absolutely no choice. He worked when he was sick, in pain from his summons, or being followed around by ghosts. He'd only wanted to work part time when he first got the job but never complained when they switched him to full time without warning, and generally went out of his way to keep the kitchen spotless. Mrs. Ando loved him and would happily give him however much time he needed, and Mr. Ando couldn't fairly give him any shit for calling out since he'd given advanced notice and had arranged for his replacements.

But still.

It wasn't that he was afraid of Mr. Ando. He wasn't even afraid of being fired. He just wasn't in the right sort of headspace to deal with Mr. Ando's reprimands and complaints. He felt so fragile right now, as if the slightest nudge could shatter his composure like a sheet of ice atop a frozen lake. Even the tiniest bit of pressure and he would crack.

"Malik."

He looked up when Bakura said his name, finding the ghost much closer to him than he had been before. Bakura leaned forward, and for the briefest moment their mouths danced just out of reach of the other's. Malik pulled in a breath, finding it hard not to lean in and connect their lips. He felt another telltale lump form in his throat as Bakura pulled away, but he was able to swallow down his emotions this time.

Bakura's smile looked so genuine it physically hurt Malik, and he couldn't stop himself from saying, "I wish you could stay."

Bakura raised a brow, his smile turning into more of a smirk. "I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. I've already decided no matter what happens, you're not going to make me pass on."

Malik shook his head. "No, I mean… I was only given three months to complete this assignment. It's already been a month. Even if you don't pass on with me, in two months you'll be reassigned, and we'll never see each other again."

The odd look returned to Bakura's face. Pained, perturbed. He glanced down at Malik's phone. "Make your call, Malik."

"I really wish you would stop avoiding things, too," Malik muttered even as he tapped his screen, which had timed out and gone black. He took a deep, centering breath and pressed the call button, his heart hammering as he held the phone up to his ear.

It rang three times before a gruff voice picked up. "What."

Malik winced. Either he'd woken Mr. Ando up, or he was in a bad mood. "Hello, Mr. Ando. I'm sorry for calling so early, but I-"

"Who is this?" interrupted Mr. Ando.

Malik winced again. "Malik Ishtar."

Mr. Ando's tone became even grumpier. "What do you want, Ishtar?"

"I, uh…" Malik glanced sideways at Bakura, who gave him a thumbs-up. He rolled his eyes and looked away to avoid potential distractions. "I was just letting you know I won't able to come in for the next few days."

"Why?"

Malik was pretty sure Mr. Ando wasn't legally allowed to ask that, but he had expected it anyway. "A friend of mine is in the hospital and it's really serious, and I'm really worried about him, and I don't think I'd be very productive until I know he'll be okay."

"I see."

There was a tense moment of silence.

"I already spoke to Honda and Ushio, and they said they would cover my shifts until I can come back."

"I understand."

It took Malik a second to process the words. "You…you do?"

"Yes. Expect your last paycheck at the regular time. Goodby-"

Malik cut him off, suddenly furious. "Last paycheck? What do you mean last paycheck?"

Mr. Ando's words came out in a huff, like it was an inconvenience to explain. "You're fired."

"Why?" Malik demanded. This had been his worst case scenario, and when it was theoretical he really hadn't cared one way or another before, but for it to actually happen had him seeing red. "I want to know exactly what I did for you to come to that decision."

"I don't need to give you my reasons."

"The hell you don't!"

"That, that right there, Ishtar!" Mr. Ando was practically screaming into the phone at this point. "My wife has made excuses for you and your attitude, but I'm not as forgiving of such backtalk. You're lazy and incompetent, always asking for time off and ducking out of your shifts early. This has been a long time coming."

Lazy. Incompetent. Bullshit. What little of Malik's composure that remained intact shattered. "Fine!" he yelled into the receiver, squeezing his phone so hard the plastic case squeaked in protest. "I don't need this job. It's you who need me. Have fun explaining to your wife why you fired your best employee."

Before Mr. Ando could respond Malik ended the call. He stood up, very nearly throwing his phone out into the expansive yard enclosing the Ishtar property, but at the last second froze. All the anger melted away and he sat back down on the swing, dropping his phone into his lap and groaning, rubbing his face with his hand.

Bakura stared unseeingly, eyes wide. "Fuck."

Malik said nothing. He rubbed his eyes, his headache feeling much worse than before. It was pounding at his temples and stabbing in his forehead. He inhaled, letting the breath out in a shuddering sigh as the headache, lack of sleep, dehydration, and his empty stomach began to pile up and make him feel nauseous.

Bakura, however, must have interpreted the sigh and the eye rubbing as Malik crying, because he scooted closer to him on the porch swing. "Hey, hey. Fuck that guy anyway. I bet you get a call from his wife later begging you to come back. And if you don't, then you get to watch their business crumble without you. Win-win. And then you get to find another job where you're actually appreciated."

Malik looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. Bakura took in the expression, eyes darting from his eyes to his dry cheeks. He seemed to realize he'd offered Malik comfort when Malik hadn't actually needed it, and he glanced away again, wearing that warmer shimmer that Malik now knew was the ghostly equivalent of a blush.

"Thank you, Bakura, but it's fine." He leaned back against the back of the swing, draping one arm over the wooden edge, as close to putting his arm over Bakura's shoulders as he could get. "I didn't really need that job."

"Uhm." Bakura turned back at him. "How the fuck are you gonna afford your share of this giant house? I'm guessing your sister doesn't pay for your bills."

Malik shook his head. "We bought this house with the money our father left us in his will. We pay our bills with what's left. Honestly the only reason any of us have jobs is so we can pretend we live a semi-normal life. And for the entertainment money," he added with a shrug. "But I didn't really expect to stick around at that café anyway. I don't really like cooking, especially at a grill. I'd rather work somewhere where I can do something with my hands."

"Like a strip club?"

Malik gave him a questioning look.

Bakura pantomimed holding a pole.

"Oh." Malik chuckled and shook his head. "No, I meant like, a mechanic. I'm constantly fine tuning my bike and messing with my sibling's cars. It would be nice, but I've looked into it, and the hours are long and pretty inflexible. I wouldn't be able to be away from my ghosts for that long."

"I'm telling you man, be a stripper," Bakura said with a cheeky grin, leaning closer. Malik's eyes fell to his lips before he could help himself. "You could work like, five hours and bring home hundreds."

A slow grin spread on Malik's face. "Bakura, were you ever a stripper?"

Bakura didn't look at all offended by the question. He grinned wide, showing almost all his teeth. "No."

"Did you look into becoming one?"

Bakura shrugged. "Once or twice."

Malik cocked an eyebrow.

"What? They make good money!"

Malik just grinned and shook his head. The little tangent had cheered him up and had even cleared his head a little bit, and he had something on his mind that he really wanted to do now. He stood and stretched, noticing the way Bakura's eyes were immediately drawn to his exposed stomach as the too-small shirt rode up with the action. As soon as he lowered his arms and straightened his shirt Bakura's eyes were back on his face.

"I'm going to go check on Ryou," Malik told him.

The little smirk Bakura had been wearing fell in an instant. He bit his lip. "Are you sure? He's not looking so good."

Malik nodded resolutely. "I'm sure."