Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Characters and all that stuff all belong to their respective authors.

This fic was kind of, sort of inspired by this rhyme.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty together again.

The whole thing is a 5 minute spur-of-the-moment thing so I hope you'll enjoy it despite of the fact.

All The King's Horses

Here he was. Always on the edge, feeling paranoid about falling down. There was one person who could

easily pull him down, make him fall to his death. And so he lived in everlasting fear of the next moment.

It was probably some kind of sick, twisted delight that made him anticipate the next, uncertain moment,

only to sigh in relief when nothing happened. No smooth whispers in the back of his mind, telling, urging

him to take that one step, to let himself fall into the pit of madness. Sometimes he resisted with

determination so great, that even that voice of madness didn't question it. And sometimes, he stood on

the edge, rocking back and forth, with the voice daring him to just let himself go, leave this life behind and

let it overwhelm him.

And so, after all these months of living, surviving, he was here again, standing at the top and looking down

into the swirling mass of black below him. He could hear the voice again, whispering poisonous words into

his ears as he felt the warm breath ghosting words over his skin. A light flick of tongue against the crook of

his neck, and he shivered, wherever in fear, anticipation or pleasure, he did not know. Slowly, almost lovingly,

cold hands slid down his chest and warm lips, feeling even warmer in such contrast to those hands, pressed

against his throat, traveling slowly up to his ear, leaving lingering kisses in their wake.

"Submit to me."

That one sentence pushed him over the edge. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore, and so he let

himself fall to the darkness. It enveloped him, and as a ghostlike figure pressed itself into his back, he could

feel his heartbeat speed up. This was it. He didn't care anymore, not for the life he led before, nor the ones that

called themselves his friends. He let the darkness swallow him, all the while feeling the light kisses and ghostly

touches of the one behind him. They said it was a sin, but if sins always felt this good, then let him be the worst

sinner of all times. Under those light touches and kisses he broke, and none of them could put him together again.

He lived in his own dream, his own nightmare and the more he stayed there, the more he sunk into the darkness

He lived until there was nothing more to live for, and then, he let the madness inside his mind consume him.

The last thing he remembered were leering eyes of black and gold.