Morgain: allright, here's another fic... It's been a while, but I've been kind of buissy lately, so I hardly had any time to write (cries)Anyway, this is another Ryou and Bakura fic, I must say though that again they are not a couple (just to make sure you know), nor is either of them in love with the other. Right, I had to say that... By the way, this isn't a happy ending fic, so I advice that you get hold of a box of tissues before you read this, that is, when you're as emotional as I am (which is verry emotional). (cries louder)

Jon: Uhm, Morgain... You're babbling... Time for the disclaimer: Morgain doesn't, nor will she ever own Yu-Gi-Oh. Like said before, Ryou wouldn't enjoy it if she did... (winks)

Lance: And again (roles eyes) she appologises for any gramatical or any other errors. (was that spelled right:P)

Morgain: See you at the end. (grabs tissue)

---

Another sleepless night

A clock stroke twelve and the boy was still staring at the blank wall, without seeing anything. For hours he'd sat there, forgetting the world around him, forgetting to eat or sleep. Just sitting there, waiting – no, hoping for himself to disappear into nothingness. Waiting for himself to stop existing so that he wouldn't have to feel the emptiness

Tears had stopped falling long ago, but still his cheeks looked tearstained, as if the drops had frozen there. The house around him was extremely silent. The only sound to be heart coming from outside: the traffic passing by. However, the boy's ears where still ringing with sadistic laughter, soft sobs and screams of anger. The flashbacks came back again, rags of scared moments, crawled away into corners, pressed against walls. Moments of hope, warmth, happiness, moments of fear and despair.

Oh, all those memories, the more the teen tried to forget the clearer they became. But memories, no matter how strong, can't bring back the past.

Oh yes, he had longed for freedom, had wished for it. But now that he was free the emptiness was slowly becoming too much. At first it seemed fine, no-one ordering him about, no-one terrorising him, no-one bruising his skin, hurting him for the fun of it, time for himself to do whatever he wanted.

But after a few days it turned out things weren't that simple. Without someone to tell him what to do the teen had found it extremely hard to keep busy, and soon he found himself in the same position, day after day after day, staring at the wall, memories running in his head.

Outside a clock stroke one.

The face of his twisted mirror image, his Yami, his darkness, was burned on the inside of his closed eyelids. A tear escaped and slowly rolled down the teen's cheek. The warm drop seemed to burn as it slid past his chin and dropped to the ground. He bit back a sob. Crying hadn't been allowed, and the way it was hammered into him made it impossible to forget.

Any time he'd felt hurt, upset or scared the spirit would slap him across the face and warn him. "Don't you dare cry, Ryou, 'cause is you do, you'll wish you'd never been born." Instead of telling he already wished that, the boy would hang his head and bit back the tears. Most of the time the other would leave it at that, but there were times when he would grab the teen by the hair, drag him to his room and lock him in there, for days.

The boy remembered the days crawling by. Until he couldn't remember what day it was and he would beg to be let out. "Bakura, please. Please let me out. Do whatever you want with me, just let me out of here, I'm going crazy, the walls are closing in on me. Just let me out, please!" If he was lucky, the spirit would find some mercy for him and let him out. Other times he would come into the room and beat the boy until he begged to be alone and promised to not ask for freedom again. The spirit would laugh and leave the boy, skin and mind bruised.

It wasn't only the physical abuse; the psychological abuse was just as worse. The way Bakura would look down on him, the humiliations, all of them made things so much worse. Sometimes the boy felt as if he could take the hits, the physical pain and the cuts, but he couldn't take the pain that was inflicted on his mind. The way Bakura controlled his life was mostly based on fear. Ryou knew, but he couldn't resist it all the same.

---

The scars and bruises on his body had disappeared, eventually, but the scars in his mind where still there. They made it impossible for Ryou to live a normal life, as long as those scars where there they would make sure to remind him about the fact that he wasn't normal. He supposed it was like a psychical disorder.

Every day the teen entered the house which he had shared with the spirit he would be overcome by a strange feeling. A feeling that urged him to hurry up, to make himself small and unnoticeable, anything he could do to make sure the spirit wouldn't hurt him. All these feelings weren't necessary since the spirit no longer inhabited the house, but Ryou's brain kept panicking. The teen still didn't eat unless he was given permission to do so, and now that there was no-one he was slowly starving himself. He was used to hunger, and he didn't notice at first, but after some time he had to admit that he was unhealthy thin. Finally he ate something and had to tell himself over and over again that he wouldn't be punished. Slowly he started eating again, but his body was no longer used to food and it took some time before he managed not to throw it al up again.

He couldn't sleep, used to the 'games' the spirit played with him at night. He would deny the boy sleep and wake him up any time he would collapse out of exhaustion. He would lay the boy on the couch and keep him awake. He would beat the boy and beat him again when he uttered a sound. That was one of the other rules. Don't speak till you're spoken to, don't make a sound even when you're being beaten. If you make a sound, feel the consequences, feel the pain.

Ryou tried to break free of his memories, he really tried, but the rules where hammered in to deep. He couldn't not obey them, still scared of what the (for already some time absent) spirit would do to him if he were to find out. Ryou still couldn't believe the spirit had left him, had granted him freedom. He wasn't complaining, and he didn't want the spirit to return, but just a little part of him wanted the crazy yami back. His life seemed pointless, he couldn't help it.

It was not like he loved the spirit, of even liked him. That part of him had died long ago. When he had first met Bakura he felt pity and hope. Hope that there would finally be someone to replace his little sister and he had tried to love Bakura as a brother, had tried to change him. But he soon found out Bakura didn't want to be changed, and after a short while he found the spirit in control of his life. Ryou's last hope of friendship had died and instead there was emptiness, he didn't love nor hate the spirit that ruled his life.

The emptiness that was tormenting him now, however, was much different. It wasn't just a lack of emotions or feeling; it was a lack of everything. Ryou's life seemed without purpose, without meaning. When Bakura had been around there had always been something that would happen to Ryou, however unpleasant, and in that way confirm his existence.

Right now, no-one was there to confirm the boy's existence, and slowly the teen started to question his own sanity. Was he going insane? Why did a part of him long for Bakura to come back? Hadn't Ryou always wanted to be free? The boy felt overwhelmed by hysteria and suddenly tears came running down his cheeks. At first he tried to keep them inside, but soon after that he let go, hysteric cries escaping his lips.

---

When he started to calm down again the teen suddenly panicked, his brain going into shock again about what he had done. What if his yami ever found out he had been crying? But then he remembered that his yami wasn't there, would never be there again, to punish him. But then the small relieve disappeared again and was replaced by the urge to feel pain. The boy didn't understand where the feeling came from and immediately felt scared for his sanity again.

However, before he could really think about this strange thought something inside his brain snapped. Before he could think again the teen tried to crush himself against the wall, in which he failed of course, no-one can crush himself against a wall.

The teen started running around the house. He didn't know why, some part of his brain he didn't know it existed had taken over. The boy stopped in front of a mirror, staring at his mirror image. Without thinking the boy pushed his face against the mirror, but the glass was cold, and flat. The teen slit down the wall and started crying again. Would his life ever go back to normal?

---

But after that night, things started to get better. At least, Ryou took it as a progress that he was able to cry without feeling scared. The fact that the tears kept coming out of his eyes didn't bother the teen. Ryou figured that in some way, all the tears he hadn't been allowed to shed had to get out, in order to get his life back to normal.

During the next three days the boy found ways to pass the time. He started reading books and went to the park for a walk. Finally the tears stopped and Ryou was surprised when it occurred to him he hadn't panicked or stared at the wall during those three days.

The teen was looking in the mirror. His reflection was staring back at him, eyes still red from crying. All of a sudden the teen felt lonely again. He did miss his Yami. Not the humiliation, or the pain, but the being there of another person near to him. No-one had touched Ryou for days. No-one was there to confirm his existence. No-one had slapped him across the face, but no-one had hugged him either. The boy pressed his face against the mirror, but the glass was cold and flat. Ryou started crying again.

He didn't notice the darkness closing in on him, he didn't hear the soft footsteps coming closer, he didn't hear the breathing of the person who was now staring at him, grinning.

"You're crying." Ryou froze at his spot as the deadly calm voice reached his ears. He stepped away from the mirror, still staring at it. Behind him stood his living mirror image! "Answer!" Ryou swallowed. "Yes, I am." The spirit looked surprised by this sharp reply.

"Don't talk to me like that." The words were nothing but a hiss, but they made the boy tremble. Then something inside Ryou's head clicked and he turned around to face the darkness that was covering the house.

"Why not? It's true. I won't let you turn my life upside-down again, not now. Not when, finally, things are getting normal again." Bakura laughed his sadistic laugh and the boy walked backwards until his back was against the wall. "Oh no, you're life isn't going back to normal. Don't you know it's all an illusion?"

"What do you mean? What illusion? You left, now leave me alone forever, I don't want you here." The spirit leaned closer, their noses almost met. "But you missed me." A grin crossed his face. "I know you did. I watched you. I never was really gone. Why, did you think I would leave my toy? I played a game with you Ryou, and you played along, without noticing. I waited until you felt free again and now I'm coming back to shatter any hopes you might have of a normal life."

Ryou froze again. "Yes, I missed you, but not because I enjoyed your games. I should have known this was one of your other tricks, but I won't let you play with me this time." The boy's eyes turned blank and almost just as cold as the spirit's ones. The yami laughed again. "But you already let me. Don't you see?"

Ryou's eyes filled with tears. "No, I don't see, and I don't wish to see it!" Bakura raised his hand, and immediately the tearstained eyes of the teen opposite him grew wide with fear. "Ah, so you're still scared of me, huh? You'd better be." The spirit hissed the last three words and the boy sank to his knees. He was going to lose the fight. He felt like he was drowning and his brain refused to work. Desperately he tried to cling to his thoughts about his life being back to normal, but the thoughts slipped away, like water through his hands.

Slowly the memories of dark nights, pain and no-one to help him came back into his mind, and the teen stopped fighting. There seemed to be no use in it any more. The blow that hit him came suddenly, but not unexpected. The warning: "You better not cry." was obeyed, and Ryou bit back the sobs and tears. The night went on, and so did the torture.

---

The boy stared at the wall, a blanket wrapped around his thin frame. The door was locked and the walls were closing in on him again. Bruises and cuts made it impossible for the boy to fall asleep, they hurt to much. The room was cold, the wall to, against which the boy was seated. The teen was rocking to and fro as memories and words kept spinning in his head.

"Don't you dare cry."

The refection of light in the blade of a knife.

"Taste it, taste your own blood. Go on."

A screaming pain, the coppery taste.

"Another night alone should do. Would you like that? Being locked away in your room, All alone?"

The room was dark, dark and cold. Ryou felt the warmth being drained out of his body. His blood seemed to stop in his veins. The teen wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't fall. The game had started again, had never stopped. He was a toy, and the next day would be just the same as this one, and the day after, and the day after. Dry eyed Ryou stared into nothingness, pushed any existing emotions away until only the feeling of pain was occupying his body.

Maybe it was for the best? Maybe his life wasn't meant to be normal? Could he accept it? Could he stand it? His brain screamed no, he could feel his body saying no, he didn't want to say yes. If only death would find him. It had all been a lie, he would never be free. Slowly the boy could feel the lethargy crawl into his mind. He couldn't care anymore, it didn't matter if he'd live or die. His life was hell, and after death there would be emptiness, neither of them seemed to matter any more.

The key was turned in the lock. The door opened. "Come out and play. I'm letting you out."

"You can kill me, or play with me till I'm even more broken than I am now, I don't care."

The flickering of the sunlight on the blade of a knife. Another sleepless night.

Morgain: So, what do you think... If you read this, I don't know, maybe you stopped reading after the first paragraph... (looks sad) But if you're reading this, please tell me what your think... Is it good (looks hopefull) or bad...?