Warning: Contains Tabloid ((SetoxMokuba))

It hurts, but I'm not bleeding. It hurts, but there's no blood. No cuts, no tears in skin – here is our problem. If I'm not bleeding, you're not hurting me, no matter the faces I may make or the sounds I utter. If you're not hurting me, he will, and then hurt you for your insolence.

I couldn't bear that. Flag the rod a little harder – jerk it sideways across my back. It'll cut then, tear the skin so I can prove my pain. He won't be satisfied with that – you'll have to keep it up, maybe for an hour, maybe for ten.

It's you, though. He wants to hurt me through you. He can't possibly understand what he's attempting.

I told you last night when you came to see me that this is how it would happen. He'd hit me a few times, hard enough to bruise. Then he'd give the weapon to you – be it stick, crop, whip – and tell you to punish me. I told you you'd take it and do as he said, but I also told you to make me bleed.

You're shaking now, staring in fascinated horror at the red staining the leather of the crop. Take a closer look, kid – it's all covered in blood.

I can't do anything with you here. He knows I won't fight you. He thinks he's found my perfect weakness, but he can't understand. You aren't a weakness at all. You're what keeps me alive – you're my strength, my blood, my brother.

I'm sorry he's lowered you to this level. I'm even sorrier for what I' about to do.

You haven't stopped lashing me, breaking the skin. I lift my eyes to your face and in my mind erase the tears. I paint on a small, playful smirk. The crop is still there, taking hell out on my back, but with your altered image in my mind, I can pretend I'm somewhere else entirely.

Forgive me for demeaning you.

I can't stop the hisses of pain. I can't avoid bending away from each stinging blow. But I can fabricate my own fantasy to escape. The pain is for you, because I want you to be happy. My back arches from taunting pleasure mingled with my agony.

Forgive me, forgive me –

I imagine your hands, your lips, going over me to kiss away a hurt before inflicting another just to soothe that as well. The cycle continues, burns me up from the inside until there isn't anything I can do.

I'm so sorry.

My mind changes your choked sobs of grief into wanton cries of lust. Hidden in my own virtual world, built of imaginings and fantasy and agony, I'm safe. But I'm a coward.

I'm using you, using you as a shield against him. It's the only way I can survive, bt in my mind, I'm destroying you with my selfishness. My desire for life has overcome my promise to be a father to you.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry –

Finally he tells you to stop and you come closer, but I can't. I can't let you. I can't touch you right now, or my body will betray my mind. It will show you how I've been using you.

I told you last night I wouldn't let you touch me. Your eyes burn with pain anyway.

I've ruined you.

Forgive me for what I've done, and what I'll continue to do. I'm weak. I'm sorry. I can't survive alone. I made my choice. I sacrificed you instead.

Please, Mokuba. Forgive me.