Angela: ... What did I do? O.o I'm not really sure. I think it's a Bakura/Fate type of thing, but I really have no clue. It just sort of happened. So... usual disclaimers apply here. I've got no room left for bodies right now, and all I've got is a mountain of papers and sone lint on a broken pen. So don't sue.

"Do you know what the color of love is?"

The words were simple, the voice soft, but the question itself was much more than that. The question itself was more significant than he thought.

"Love? Please. Love is nothing more than a word that describes a foolish notion. Love. Tch, I don't love anything. Not them, not you, nothing."

She smiled sadly, getting to her feet from where she had sat on the floor. She didn't look at him, but he could see by the way her shoulders slumped that he had done something wrong.

"Well, if you don't love anything, then I should go. After all, why take up more of your time with silly questions?"

His heart almost stopped as she moved to the door, his breath caught in his throat. He didn't mean that, not for real. He just hadn't wanted to answer the question.

'Don't go! I didn't mean it, I just screwed up, that's all! Please, stay!' his mind screamed. She paused a moment, as if hearing the thought, and glanced back once. His eyes pleaded for her not to go, to stay just a minute longer. "I-I didn't really mean that... I just... You know..." He floundered helplessly, shrugging. How could he explain himself?

She smiled at him, that warm smile that made his heart flutter only three days ago upon their meeting,and everyday after,but an undercurrent of sadness seeped through it. The sadness of the smile pooled in her eyes.

"Yes, I do know." She turned away again.

"Please, don't go. I don't want you to go."

"I have to go. I'm only taking up more of your time by being here."

"At least give me your name!"

"Fate. That is my name. Fate. You know me all too well, King of Thieves. And soon you shall know me again. But for now, I must go. And so too must you."

A blinding flash of light hit his face, he screamed in agony. He was on fire, everything about him hurt so badly.

Fate. She had done this. Fate had played with his heart yet again, and Fate had caused this pain. Fate had done all of this to him.

Names. Images. Ghosts. Jumbled and distorted pictures surrounded him, voices whispered in his ears, telling him things. Past and future were blending, becoming one. Screams of pain and fear tore from his throat, his voice became hoarse. No one could hear him, no one could see him. He was falling.

He was alone.

The bright light faded, and in its place the darkness came, soothing his body. The searing pain slithered away, the cool embrace of shadows seeped through his being. He could not see, could not hear. His mind was foggy, where was he?

He breathed slowly, afraid to move. HIs awareness was failing, what happened?

Slowly, ever so slowly, he knew no more...

Light seeped through the darkness, driving back the shadows. The white light hurt his sensitive eyes, making him wince. The light came from above, like sunlight. Somehow, the darkness was being abated, driven away. He looked to his 'sky', and saw a single white feather floating down to him on a current he could not feel. He reached up towards the feather, towards the light, grasping only light in his fingers. The feather did not come to him, but the light was still there. Warming his face, his hands. He reached up again, grasping, searching. He could feel the life flowing into him, could sense the light's strength inside himself. Who had sent him the light? Who'd driven back the shadows of his own fear and doubts? And, most of all, who'd saved his soul?

He knew. Yes, he knew who had done all of this just for him.

It had been Fate.

Angela: Y'know, when Tim read this, and got to the end, it took me explaining it to him before he got the whole question thing. And then he kept insisting it wasn'ta color. I'm of the opinion he isn't very smart. But if you don't get it, I guess I can explain it...