A/N: Yeah, I know! Long overdue! I've been going through hell at U of T and trying to get on top of some things. Plus I've been drafting out plot - ya didn't think I forgot about this fic, did ya? - and all for this fic, so it develops nicely. And I realized I could make it a neat lil cross-over fic. I'm toying with the idea…because I have never done a crossover fic and would like the challenge. Plus it'd be fun working with those characters. ^^ Erm, ignore my mad ramblings. Sorry this chapter was so late. I'll let you get to reading. Replies to reviews are at the end of the chappie.

Resurrection

Chapter V

"Are you up yet?"

"No." Malik shifted in the bed, pulling the blanket in closer. "Just let me sleep, Ramses."

"OK," Ramses said. Then a few seconds later, "Are you up now?"

"Must you bother me so?" Malik asked, opening an eye. "It's only," he glanced at the bedside clock. "Seven thirty in the morning." Malik groaned as pulled the blanket over his head; not even Yuki had woken him up that early.

"I know. But I normally go for a walk at this time with Mother. But she's still asleep and I don't want to wake her up. And I thought you would like the exercise," Ramses paused for a moment. "For your muscles."

Malik sighed heavily, finally looking at the white haired boy standing patiently at his bedside. "Fine I'll take you on a walk."

"I'll be waiting downstairs!" Ramses said, and with that he bounded from Malik's room.

Sitting up, Malik ran a hand through his hair, blinking blearily. Up at seven thirty; in the morning. That seemed like a travesty that could never be compensated. But better he go for a walk now that suffer who knew what later on. He had been here a week and today was the day he met his new in home physiotherapist. If he 'conveniently' wasn't here when said person showed up, then maybe he wouldn't have to suffer patronizing baby talk.

He rubbed his face briskly and staggered out of bed, making his way to the bathroom to tidy up. When he emerged a few minutes later, he was rummaging through his closet, trying to stub his toes against the boxes of things he hadn't unpacked quite yet. One of the first things done was to buy him new clothes. And so Malik found himself pulling on a pair of jeans, plain grey socks, sneakers, a light t-shirt and a slightly oversized hoodie. But it was comfortable; much better than those insane outfits Marik wore all the time.

A wry frown came to Malik's face. It wasn't that the outfits were bad - they were quite nice in fact - but wearing leather pants all the time was rather chafing. Not to mention freezing with wearing a sleeveless shirt all the time.

Malik grabbed his cane, pausing as he looked at the mounted painting on the wall. It was the painting Shizuka had made for him. It wasn't all that big, with a winding black river through it, and a mournful angel perched in a twisted dead tree. The only colour in the whole image was on the angel, delicate ivories, creams, peaches and light yellows. Everything else was done in muted, sombre blacks and dark greys.

And he rather liked it.

Shrugging it off, Malik made his way down to the front door, seeing Ramses waiting patiently. "Do you have keys?" he asked as he grasped his cane firmly and burrowed a hand in the pocket of the hoodie to keep it warm.

Ramses produced them with a melodic jingling sound. Malik motioned to the door, which Ramses was out of in a second. It wasn't long before they were walking down the street, the morning air still holding a chill. They didn't say anything, Malik paying careful attention to where Ramses was walking and committing street names to memory - Lawson, Janome, Apollon, Wharton and that last one they just past called -

"Can I ask you something?"

Ramses' sudden question startled Malik. "Yes?" he asked, looking down at the boy.

"What's it like?" Ramses watched him for a bit longer before he looked away.

"What's 'what' like?" Malik asked, puzzled a bit by the vagueness.

"Being in a coma. Mother says that they said that the doctors said you were dead for a little while. And that made you go into a coma." Ramses paused. "What makes a death…death?"

Malik blinked, his mind untangling everything Ramses had thrown at him. "I think the term you're looking for is 'clinical death'. A clinical death is when your heart stops beating for a minute…or something along those lines. But your heart does stop for a while and then it starts beating again. So technically, I was dead for a space of time. I don't think I could tell you what death is at all."

"All right," Ramses' brow was furrowed as if he was committing it to memory. "So?"

"So what?" Malik asked.

"So," Ramses' repeated patiently. "What was the coma like?"

"How old are you again?" Malik asked in disbelief; Ramses certainly didn't act his age.

"I'm six years old," Ramses huffed. "Are you going to answer my question or not?"

Malik blinked, pulling his hand out of the pocket and running it through his hair. "In all honesty, it didn't seem like I was in a coma. It seemed like I went from one place to another place and then to another."

"Oh." Ramses didn't say anything for a moment. "What's that in-between place?"

"Hrm?" Malik gave a light laugh. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I might. Father's told me some more weird things than you'll probably tell me." Ramses said.

Malik simply arched an eyebrow. "You normally see your father often?"

"Yup," Ramses nodded his head. "Usually on vacations from school or he stops by when he can if he's where we are. You still haven't answered my question."

Malik turned his gaze back to the sidewalk, finally speaking after a few moments. "I saw Yuugi when he was sixteen. And then everything went black. Then I found myself facing judgement fr-"

"Judgement? From Enma?" Ramses' eyes went wide. "That's so cool! Was he all big and red, did he have flames and stuff coming from his nose? Was he wearing that little hat he normally does in the pictures? What about-"

"Ra have mercy!" Malik exclaimed; just where was this boy pulling these questions from? "Enma? No, there was no 'Enma', whoever that is."

"Enma's the guy who judges people; you know decides whether to send them to heaven or hell." Ramses stated.

Malik arched an eyebrow. "I was judged by Osiris. And he saw fit to send me back."

"Osiris?" Ramses' brow furrowed once more. "I know that one. From that country, right? With the two seas?"

"Egyptian," Malik offered. "God of death and renewal. He resides in a hall."

"Yeah, that's the one!" Ramses exclaimed. "I get them mixed up sometimes. You really saw Osiris?"

Malik nodded his head. "I think so. The old ways are what I was raised to believe. It's not so much that I was forced to, but I accepted the teachings wholeheartedly and such. It was the other things that I truly did not like."

"What were they?" Ramses asked.

"Things such as no contact with the outside world." Malik said quietly; and that was all he would offer.

"You had no television?" Ramses looked horror-struck. "Or ice cream? Chips? Movies? Candy bars?"

"None of those things," Malik said with a chuckle. "But I did see the outside world eventually…" he trailed off at that.

"Well, that's not bad. Was there at something you liked on your first time out?" Ramses asked, swinging his arms as he started hopping ahead erratically.

"I did," Malik said as he remembered the first time he saw a motorcycle on television. It was as if it was sent by the very Gods themselves.

"Then it wasn't all that bad. You should just do something with that if you can." Ramses suggested, now hopping through the grass.

"Hm," Malik mused. "We'll see." Why did children always seem to have the simple answers?

Malik sighed as he settled into the large cushy armchair in the living room. His new physiotherapist was due here any moment now. Ramses sat on the couch, his short legs swinging and making dull thuds against the tan surface. Malik glanced at him and gave a smile. Ramses smiled back, sticking his tongue out a bit, before he looked back at his feet. As if on cue, Isis looked around the corner from the kitchen fixing the both of them with a look.

Malik looked down, not wishing to incur his sister's wrath for the second time that day. When he and Ramses had arrived back from their walk - which had gone from short to a long meandering journey - they had found Isis standing in front of the door with a livid expression on her face. Of course, Malik couldn't blame her. He hadn't left a note saying they had gone on a walk. So Isis had awakened to find her brother and son gone from their beds.

And so here they were, sitting in the living room at twelve p.m., like chastised children. He looked up, meeting his sister's gaze, opening his mouth to say something, and then the doorbell rang.

"Well, I must say that he's very punctual," Isis walked quickly to the front door and opened it.

Malik found himself looking up rather fearfully. All he could hear were quiet murmurs; if it was the same physiotherapist from the hospital, Malik was pretty sure he would be asking Osiris to take him back. The chatter drove him insane. The chatter was mind-numbing. Malik paused for a moment; that chatter could be listed as a form of cruel and unusual punishment.

"Malik, this is Mr. Minamino; he's your new physiotherapist." Isis said.

Malik steeled himself and looked past her to look at the man standing behind her. His long red hair was bound back and his green eyes were already flickering over him, lingering on the cane and then his legs with a rather critical light. He was wearing a simple t-shirt, beat up old jeans and broken in sneakers, a bag slung over his shoulder. Malik had a feeling that there wouldn't be any requests put in to Osiris anytime soon.

"Hello Mr. Istar," the man walked over, offering his hand. "Your sister tells me you've just gotten out of the hospital. And that you were rather irritated at your previous physiotherapist. If I may enquire, what was his name?"

Malik made a face as he took and shook it. "Mr. Okuma."

"No wonder," the man made a momentary face of dislike, taking his hand back to readjust his bag. "Anyways, your sessions are three times a week, and will be two hours long. I do not expect you to shirk off. You can just call me Minamino; it seems to be the preferred name with my patients."

"I wasn't expecting to," Malik replied easily. "Shirk off that is Minamino." He said the last part a bit hesitantly.

"Ramses, have you done your homework?" Isis asked suddenly.

"Mother!" Ramses wailed. "I wanna stay here! I don't wanna do that now!"

"If you don't want to do your homework, you may help me with lunch." Ramses made a face. Isis simply smiled. "It's your favourite."

Ramses was out of the living room faster than Malik could blink. Isis smiled triumphantly. "I would suggest the backyard, Mr. Minamino. There's a large patio and the fresh air will probably help."

"An excellent idea, thank you Ms. Istar." Minamino said, inclining his head slightly. He looked back at Malik. "All you need now is the cane?"

Malik nodded and rose. "I'm guessing you know about how long I've been in the hospital and all?"

Minamino nodded. Malik looked at him, waiting to hear it. When nothing came, he furrowed his brow slightly in consternation. Minamino arched an eyebrow.

"Mr. Istar," Minamino began.

"You may call me Malik. Undoubtedly, this therapy will be happening for a long while." Malik said.

Minamino inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Malik, if you expect me to start babbling about how miraculous this is, like Okuma, I'm afraid you will be disappointed. Now, we've already wasted enough time don't you think?"

Malik smiled as he walked over and slid the patio door open, closing it behind Minamino when he stepped out. "You don't sound that fazed by it at all."

"I have seen stranger things Malik," Minamino set the bag down on the patio table. "Now," he looked back at Malik critically. "I think we should start you off with the eight pound weights." Malik stared at him in disbelief. Minamino looked back at him, puzzled. "Would that be too much for you?"

"No. I was sick of five pound weights." Malik said. "You just don't know how wonderful that sounds."

Starlit-Hoshiko: Writing! ^.^ Odd…it didn't seem that odd when I thought of it, watched the eps when Pegasus was interacting with Isis. Oh well, At least you thought it was nice. ^^

dark_angel5221: Well, I haven't seen past the duel with Yami and Marik - YTV stopped airing them for awhile. And when they started airing the new ones, I was stuck in a class. The injustice T_T. So by this point, I'm guessing it would be an AU.

Bakura13: Thank you! *blushes* I'm a-going!

Person who left no name: Thank you! I've grown used to his dub name as well, but it didn't help having my lil sis running around crowing "Baldy". No, I haven't heard of . I just don't have the same time I used to for forums. I'm already semi-active in about five…nope, my bad, six forums, and trying to keep up in the RPGs that I am part of there. I don't think I could fit in another one. But I'll check it out, prowl around…