A OneShot that came out of nowhere. I think I might have dreamed it though. :)

"Help him that hath no hope. Lift him up. Give him flight. Heal his crippled wings." ~Anonymous

A cold chill hung in the air. The temperature was dropping swiftly as the sun sank lower and lower through the late autumn sky. The sky was a crystallized blue, streaked through with splashes of red and orange from the dying light of the sun.

A man walked down the street. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his black jacket, protecting the frostbitten fingers from the cold. His breath came out in clouds, white puffs that lingered before dissipating into the air.

It had been a long day. Working at a job that paid its workers what could hardly be called a salary, and having nothing more than a one room apartment to go home to was less than appealing, and he was going to the nearest bar in hopes that he might be able to lose his troubles, if only for a few hours.

He was walking past a large series of apartment complexes when he found that he wasn't walking alone anymore. A little boy, about six, was suddenly trailing behind him. Bakura ignored him, but after a moment, the boy ran and caught up, walking alongside him. The sun had finally set, leaving the world in dark twilight. The boy had a big blue jacket on, and his head was nearly smothered in a warm hat. He looked around, seeing if the child's parents were around, but there was no one else along the sidewalk. Just him and this little boy.

"What's your name?" The boy asked, his voice slightly muffled because of the jacket.

He stopped and looked down at him. "Bakura." He replied brusquely.

They walked a little ways more, and Bakura wondered how long the kid would follow him. He was looking down at the sidewalk, his face thoughtful. Then his deep brown eyes turned back up to him.

"Are we related?" He asked.

Bakura frowned, wondering where little kids came up with these things. "No."

"Are you sure?" The kid insisted.

Bakura stopped and leaned down. "Where's your parents, kid?"

The boy, pulling his jacket down to answer clearly, said, "My name's Ryou Bakura. And," He pulled his hat off, revealing a tangled white mess of silvery white hair that tumbled down to his shoulders. "Look. Our hair is the same." The boy was smiling, his face bright with this revelation.

Bakura laughed, half-humorously. Now he realized why the kid, Ryou, had wanted to know if they were related. He touched his own unruly white hair. "That's called coincidence, kid."

Picking up the pace, Bakura lengthened his strides, trying to get the kid to leave him alone. Ryou simply sped up, trotting alongside Bakura.

"What do you want?" Bakura finally snapped, stopping to let Ryou catch up. "Do your parents know where you are?"

"Daddy's at home." The boy puffed. He was breathing hard enough that his face was surrounded by his own little white cloud. "I snuck out the window and went down the fire stairs. Daddy doesn't know that I know how to open the window because they have locks on them."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Do you always sneak out like this?"

The boy shook his head quickly. "But I saw you walking by. You looked sad…were you sad Bakura?"

Bakura sighed, leaning against a tree, its branches bare, growing in a side garden along the sidewalk. "Yeah." He finally admitted, "I guess I was."

Ryou stood beside him, mimicking the way he was leaned casually against the tree. "Are you still sad?"

Bakura looked down at him. "Maybe." He said.

"You know what my mommy would've said about you 'cuz you're so sad?" The little boy asked, grasping Bakura's hand in his own cold one. Bakura sat down so that they were more on the same level.

"What?"

Ryou looked at him, his brown eyes wide and serious. "She would've said your wings are broken." He paused.

"My wings?" Bakura asked incredulously. This was ridiculous. "Listen, kid, let's get you back home to your mom and dad, okay?"

"Just dad." Ryou said. "Mommy got a brand new pair of wings. She got angel wings so she could fly all the way home. It was her turn to fly with the other angels." He shook his head. "Your wings can't let you fly even just to wherever you want to go now. They're broken." He repeated somberly. Bakura was about to say something, apologize to the child for his loss, but suddenly Ryou pushed him forward slightly, so that his back was accessible. Placing his hands between Bakura's shoulder blades, Ryou acted like he was examining Bakura's 'broken wings'.

"I could tell when I saw you walking. You walk like people that have broken wings. You can't fly." Ryou said. "That's why I followed you." He paused, continuing his 'examination'.

"Your wings have been broken for a long time, Bakura." Ryou said softly, his voice genuinely sad, his eyes melancholy.

Bakura was surprised by the child's intuition. Without even knowing the reasons, and with one simple conversation, this boy had figured out that Bakura had been living a somewhat less-than-pleasant life.

"What about your wings?" Bakura asked, thinking of the kid's mother.

"My wings aren't broken." Ryou said, grinning "but they don't work just yet. They were folded down, and the feathers were bent, but now they're healing." He smiled wider, a bright six-year-old smile. "Your wings will heal too, if you want."

Bakura ruffled the boy's hair. "Not likely." He said.

"No, no, no." Ryou said, not satisfied with Bakura's answer. "You have to try. You have to want your wings will heal. You have to want to fly."

"And what if I don't want to fly?" Bakura challenged.

Ryou giggled. "Everyone wants to fly, 'Kura."

"What if I don't think I can?"

The boy grasped Bakura's hand again, sitting beside him. "Everyone can. Everyone has wings. Some people don't know they have wings. Some people have broken wings, just like you. Some people have wings that are so strong they lift other people up with them." He smiled. "Those are the kind of wings I want to have someday."

Bakura grinned. "You know, I don't think that's going to be too difficult for you." He stood up, noticing how Ryou's fingers and lips were a chilly blue and his face was stark white except for his bright red nose. "Let's fly you back home, now." Suddenly he swept the little boy up, setting him high on his shoulders.

He jogged, letting the breeze catch their hair. Ryou stretched his arms out wide, like he was sailing, and laughed brightly. Above them, the stars twinkled brightly. Ryou pointed up at them. "Each star is an angel." He laughed. "Mommy and Amy are up there, flying with the angels!"

Bakura, who had never known any young children, was amazed by the boy's optimism and laughed with him. The boy's happiness was infectious.

He dropped Ryou off at the apartment complex he claimed to be his. "Will you play with me again, 'Kura?" Ryou asked.

Bakura nodded, "Sure, kid." Though he didn't think he'd ever see Ryou again. The boy smiled and then scrambled up the fire escape and into a slightly open window.

Turning back down the sidewalk, Bakura shook his head. For the first time in what could have been forever, he actually felt like maybe things could get better instead of worse. It was amazing how the words of the little boy had affected him.

Continuing on his way, as though Ryou had never interrupted him, he passed the Bar, but rather then go in, he opted to go straight home. Just for today, he'd focus on the positives. Maybe someday he would have wings to fly.

Hm, Well, I sincerely hope people enjoyed this. It's not exactly what I was aiming for....Yeah, It's AU though. So Bakura's not a spirit or anything, hence the minor OOCness. But it was okay, right?

REVIEW PLEASE!!!