The hallway seemed to stretch on endlessly, far into the dark. The light from the torches on the walls seemed to get sucked into that dark.
Mariku shivered. This was the place of his nightmares- the place of his birth. The tomb.
He knew what was at the end of this hallway. He remembered the pain so well. The moment of his birth. His footsteps dragged as he made his way along, the torch light casting his silhouette on the wall; wildly spiky hair, broad shoulders and a flowing cape.
As he walked, the dread seemed to eat away at him, clawing at his stomach and causing his heart to beat faster than in any waking moment. Mariku told himself that he shouldn't be scared; he should be in his element here.
Even so, when he finally reached the door, he found his hand automatically twitching towards where the Millennium Rod should be. Only it wasn't there- it never was, in these nightmares.
Extending out a tanned, shaking hand, Mariku hated himself for being like this. He was the darkness; he should be feared. Not the other way around.
Determined, he grasped the handle and swung the door open, stepping inside the room.
Immediately, he regretted his decision. This was the room where his father- no, Marik's father- had cut open his back and scarred him for life.
But it was not his father who stood at the table, waiting. It was Ryou.
His Ryou.
His Ryou standing there at Mariku's torture table, holding a burning hot knife.
Mariku swallowed, and hesitantly took one step forward. Then another, then another, until he was standing on the other side of the table.
Ryou didn't look up, his head bowed and his eyes staying fixed to the table, the flames dancing across his pale face.
Mariku knew what had to happen next- the nightmare was always the same. And yet, the dread would not leave him.
''Ryou,'' he whispered.
Ryou's head snapped up, as if he were just noticing his presence.
The torches threw shadows over one side of his face and his white hair flickered with the light, but his big brown eyes stood out the most for Mariku. Because those could not be Ryou's eyes.
Ryou's eyes were soft and warm, caring and gentle. Nothing like these eyes that were staring at him with such cold hatred.
Those couldn't be Ryou's lips either. Ryou's lips smiled at him and offered him comfort. Not like these, which mocked him with a smirk.
''Mariku,'' Ryou said, stepping forward. The tone was kind but still Mariku shivered, and Ryou's smirk widened.
''Why don't you come and lie down?'' Ryou patted the table.
Stumbling backwards, Mariku's eyes immediately went to the hot knife in Ryou's hand. He had a hard time focusing on the present when all he could think about were the memories of his birth, and the pain that had accompanied it. Surely Ryou wouldn't do that to him? He loved him. Right?
''What's wrong?'' Ryou asked. ''Are you scared?'' His smirk widened as he regarded the boy opposite him.
Mariku forced himself to take deep breaths, though it was becoming difficult. He couldn't take his eyes off the knife, memories crashing against him like angry waves. Memories of hands grabbing him, forcing him away from Odion, pinning him to the table- and then pain. So much pain, almost unbearable.
He didn't realise Ryou had moved until he was standing in front of him, looking up at him with cold, cold eyes.
''You should be afraid,'' he hissed. ''Because I'm going to hurt you.''
And then Ryou was grabbing him and forcing him towards the table and Mariku was screaming and thrashing, trying desperately to get away. But he was too weak and he couldn't get away and he couldn't believe Ryou was doing this to him. He could hear his name being called over the sounds of his own screams-
And he was opening his eyes. He was lying in a darkened bedroom, the sheets twisted and partially thrown off the bed.
Ryou was there, leaning over him, looking at him with concern and sympathy in his eyes.
Mariku breathed a shuddering sigh of relief- those were the eyes that he knew. Everything was okay- he was here in his bed with Ryou and everything was okay.
Ryou didn't say anything- he didn't have to. He knew by now what the nightmare was about and that there was nothing he could do to fix it.
He reached out a hand to touch Mariku's face, cradling it, and leaned forward to kiss him. Soft and gentle. Mariku's eyes closed and he let out a shuddering sigh. His arms went around Ryou, holding him, and felt Ryou's arms pulling him close.
He supposed if there was one good thing to come from that torture, it was the chance to meet Ryou.