Ryou couldn't take it anymore. He'd put up with a lot over the years, but this was just too much, even for him. While Marik and Ryou's yami were lovers, Ryou had to live in fear of Yami Marik. The Egyptian's other personality had taken a bit of a sadistic fancy to Ryou, harrassing and abusing him any chance he got. There were even times when Marik and Bakura would fall asleep in bed together, only to have their other selves surface in the middle of the night for a less-consensual round two.
Ryou'd been left with bruises and bitemarks, rope burns and whip welts. There had been only one occasion when Yami Marik had done enough damage to bother Yami Bakura enough that he told him not to do that particular thing ever again. Yami Marik had complied, taking pleasure in the fact that not even Ryou's yami cared enough to come to his rescue. As the abuse became more frequent and Ryou's emotional and physical pains escalated exponentially, it came to be too much for him to bear.
The next time that Marik was out of the house, his yami receded into the Millennium ring, leaving Ryou to do the household chores. Before Ryou went to do the chores, he borrowed a small pocketknife from Bakura's collection and locked himself in the bathroom.
If he'd never owned the Millennium ring, never been Yami Bakura's host, he never would have resorted to cutting as a coping mechanism. It was only the depravity and insanity of his circumstances that could have made him even consider it. It helped him feel better, even though it didn't change anything. He knew that he could never change this arrangement. If he tried to kill Marik, his yami would see it in his mind and stop him, maybe even punish him. If he tried to kill himself, the same thing would happen. He wished that he could die. This was too much pain for one person to endure.
He hid what he'd done with bandages and went back to doing chores, his aching heart feeling just a tad less heavy than it had been before. He was almost done folding their laundry when the door to their apartment opened and Malik entered. Ryou paled at the sight of his torturer, who walked straight towards him.
The hikari stood stock still as Malik approached and began to kiss him tenderly. Ryou complied, not truly willing, but knowing from experience that resistance was futile and usually made things worse. Yami Marik roughly groped his victim's bruised ass, causing Ryou to whimper in the back of his throat. This angered him, and he grabbed a fistful of Ryou's hair at the roots, forcing the British boy down to his knees.
"No, please," Ryou begged, his eyes downcast as he began to panic on the inside. He couldn't do this, not again. "I didn't mean to…"
Yami Marik silenced him with a blow to the head, making Ryou cry out again, eyes tearing up against his will. He then made the mistake of looking up at Malik, their eyes meeting briefly before Ryou looked away again, feeling nauseous. The look of utter pleasure on his captor's face, the enjoyment he derived from Ryou's pain, was so utterly revolting it made Ryou feel physically ill. In a moment of desperation, Ryou managed to tear himself away from Malik and scamper to the bathroom before he began to throw up. That killed the mood for Malik, whose own host was soon back in his place, going about his business as if nothing had even happened. Ryou's own yami joined Marik in spirit form in the kitchen, talking casually about mundane matters.
I am nothing, nobody, Ryou thought sadly as he knelt in front of the toilet. Why did I even stick around for so long? He reached for the bottle of aspirin without thinking and dry swallowed a pill, then two, then ten… He kept going until the half-full bottle was empty. His vision was filled with stars as he dropped the bottle into the trash can and lay himself down on the tiled bathroom floor.
The last thing he remembered seeing before he blacked out was Marik's look of horror as he discovered Ryou.
When Ryou finally woke again, it was in a hospital. How very pathetic. He was so much of a failure that he couldn't even off himself successfully. He rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow as he began to sob. He was alone. Marik wasn't here, and if Marik hadn't told anybody what had happened, then nobody else would be here to visit him either. Alone. Like always. All of the emotional pain that had accumulated throughout his life rushed upon him, and his chest physically ached to such a painful degree that he ached for some kind of painkiller.
Morphine. That was a thing they had at hospitals, right? He was trying to think of some way to get his hands on it, some place where they would store it. That was when the nurse walked in, interrupting his plans for his next suicide attempt.
When the nurse left Ryou's room, she let Marik know that he was stable and awake, and that he was going to be fine. Marik stood and went into Ryou's room, cautiously poking his head in before slipping his thin frame between the door and the doorframe, closing the door behind him.
Ryou looked up at Marik, his eyes dull with despair. He blinked slowly at him. He had nothing to say, so he remained silent.
"H-How are you?" Marik asked tentatively.
"I'd rather be dead." Ryou's deadpan voice belied his inner storm of emotions, but it was his words that made Marik flinch.
Marik felt bad that he'd never tried to confront his yami about what he did to Ryou. Perhaps, if he'd been careful, if he'd been diplomatic about it, he could have persuaded him to ease up on the boy, to be more gentle, less harsh. Did Ryou blame him for not doing anything? Perhaps. Then again, Yami Bakura had also told Marik not to worry about it, that he would handle things. Apparently he hadn't done anything for his host.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling like he'd screwed things up pretty badly this time. "I should have done something when I first realized what was happening. I should have spoken up. I should have found a way to stop him." They stared at each other in silence. "Is… there any way I can make it up to you?"
"Leave Bakura and let me go," Ryou said simply. The only way he could ever find peace was to never see Marik or his dark side ever again. Marik started, and his hesitation told Ryou everything. He looked away, knowing that Marik would never do that. Marik might feel bad, but he didn't care enough about Ryou to make such a huge personal sacrifice.
"How dare you?" Yami Bakura yelled, throwing Ryou to the floor of his soul room. "Where do you get off thinking that you can just destroy yourself like that when I need you in order to exist in this world?"
Ryou had curled into a ball on the floor, but Bakura still managed to aim a hard kick at Ryou's ribs. More pain. Just what he needed. "Fine, then take my body. It's yours now. I don't want it anymore."
"What?" Bakura stared down at him, perplexed.
"I don't want it anymore. I'll just stay in my soul room all the time, or you can seal my soul into one of the Monster World figurines. I don't care what you do to me, I just don't want to live anymore!" Ryou's voice was deeply anguished, and he began to sob, unable to hold the tears back. As it was, the only times he ever got to use his body was when Bakura and Marik wanted him to take care of household chores, like cleaning, cooking, laundry, dishes. It was the only reason they ever let him out. "Just do your own cleaning, or hire a bloody maid to do it! I can't do this anymore, I just can't."
A week later, Ryou found himself waking up naked in bed with Marik. His bedfellow was stirring, and he knew from experience that in a few moments, his abuser would be there.
"Hello, Creampuff," Malik crooned as he reached under the covers to wrap an arm around Ryou's waist and pull him closer to himself.
Ryou remained limp in his arms, although it took every ounce of self-control he had not to fight him, or burst into tears, or both. Malik's affections started out tenderly, as they always did. Ryou was too exhausted to do very much at all, so they remained tender almost up until the very end. For the first time since this had started, Malik actually took a little time to prepare his victim for the penetration. Ryou groaned, shaking as his hands clenched the bedsheets in tight fists. Malik dragged his fingers in and out roughly, chuckling as he saw Ryou's face twist in pain.
"Don't tell me you're not enjoying this, you little whore," Malik growled before fiercely biting Ryou's thigh, making him cry out. Tears leaked from his eyes. This was always the worst part, when the name-calling started.
"What, the little baby doesn't like it when I bite?" he mocked, causing more tears to flow. Another cry followed another sharp bite, and Ryou was almost certain that he'd drawn blood that time. This sort of torture continued for a little while longer, until Malik had reached the end of his patience. With his hands on the backs of Ryou's thighs, he pushed his knees up to his chest. Ryou could already predict that this was going to hurt like hell. It always did, after all.
When it was all over, and Malik had rolled over to go to sleep, Ryou lay in bed for a little while, simply crying. Then he finally got himself to stand on shaking legs, even though it pained him to do so, and pull his bathrobe on before going to his room. He borrowed a knife from his yami's collection, a sharp one that would do the job beautifully, then he went into the bathroom and knelt on the floor, exposing his arm. He stared at the veins, taking a few steadying breaths. He knew what he had to do. There was no backing down from it this time. He could exsanguinate himself if he cut the vein just right. He lifted the knife, about to do the terrible deed, when the sound of his own name stopped him. He looked up to see Marik standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but his sleepshirt. Damn it, thought Ryou. I should have locked the door.
"Please, don't do that," Marik pleaded softly, stepping forward and kneeling beside Ryou, who merely lowered the knife and his gaze to the floor.
"You only say that because you love Bakura. Nobody wants me here, though. Nobody cares about how much I hurt, how much I wish I could die, how much pain I'm in all the damn time. It's not fair…" Ryou's eyes watered, but he blinked away the tears. He was so tired of crying.
"That's not true," Marik said firmly. "I want you here for your own sake, Ryou. Even if Bakura wasn't here, I'd want you to stay. I promise I'll get better at suppressing my dark side, but please, please don't kill yourself." Marik wrapped his arms around Ryou, hugging him tightly.
Ryou winced slightly as his bruises ached in Marik's embrace. He was somewhat stiff, still expecting the sadistic psycho to appear at any moment and torture him all over again. Ryou shivered when Marik kissed his cheek. What did he think he was doing?
"Ryou I… I love you, just as much as I love Bakura," he whispered tearfully, much to Ryou's own shock. "I just never knew how to tell you. Please don't kill yourself… If you do, I'll lose both of the people I love." Marik was making a concerted effort to not start sobbing himself.
Ryou was still numb, unsure of how to react to Marik's confession. Did he return the feelings? He honestly didn't know. He'd need some time to figure that out for himself. Meanwhile, Marik was starting to stand and reaching down his hands to Ryou. Ryou carefully set the knife on the bathroom sink, then took Marik's hands and accepted the help he offered in standing. Marik led him back to his bed, murmuring, "He never thinks of your pleasure, does he? Please, allow me to make up for some of what my yami has done to you."
Before Ryou even knew what was happening, Marik had freed Ryou of his robe and removed his own shirt, and they were back in bed together. Marik slid over next to Ryou and reached his hand down to the other boy's member. The gentle touch made Ryou blush, feeling embarrassed and pleased at the same time. He didn't know how to react, but Marik seemed fine with that. He moved down and pressed his lips to Ryou's tip in a tender kiss that made him gasp, tensing in unexpected pleasure. Marik continued with these gentle, tender treatments, giving him head and serving Ryou a pleasure he'd never known before.
By the end of it, the endorphins were making Ryou ache less, and Marik's affection was making this the risk of abuse somewhat more tolerable. As Marik fell asleep with his head resting on Ryou's chest, Ryou was surprised to find that he did indeed love Marik in return. Maybe that was why he'd felt so betrayed by the fact that he hadn't stopped his yami from abusing Ryou. He tousled the Egyptian's blond hair and kissed his forehead before falling into the sweet embrace of sleep. He could make this work.