Warnings: Rated M for violence, torture, rape, blood, boyxboy=Yaoi, swearing, OOC, Fluff, and lemon in later chapters! If ya don't like then please don't read.

Disclaimer: *pouts* Why must you torment me.

Pairing: YamamotoxGokudera 8059

A/N: Alright! So this is my second YamaGoku fic. This one is a lot darker than my other fic as well. This story has been stuck in my head invading my brain and was interrupting my writing for my other fic Walking After You, so I had to get down and out of the way so I could continue that one. So tell me what you think and if I should continue! On with the story!

The Days Unaccounted For

Chapter One: Given Up

The Italian squirmed, the cold metal restraints digging painfully into his raw sore wrists. His brilliant silver hair caught in the dim sunlight that filled his small dingy cell. But it still shone the same brilliance it always did even though it was caked in dirt and grime.

Gokudera felt disgusting and desperately wanted to bathe. They were only granted a bath once a week, and was forced to sit still as they roughly and quickly scrubbed his body down. Though he left never anywhere near enough as clean as he wanted to be.

He let out a low ragged sigh, his body aching with every heave of his chest as he breathed. He allowed his head to fall back, hitting the hard jagged brick wall, and stared to the small high window. If only he could fit through such a small hole. If only he could reach it. Though he did remain grateful for whatever light did shine in the small space, anything to help warm his freezing flesh at night.

Gokudera remained that way, his body squeezed into the connecting junction of the two walls, staring at the light as it slowly disappeared from his view, and was replaced by the cold of the night air. He licked his dry lips, gulping. Water, what he would give for even the smallest amount.

'How long had it been since I arrived here?' He asked his self like he did almost every day.

When he was first captured by the Millefore he was too drugged and tortured to even realize the passing of day or night. It was only when he arrived here, where ever that was, after he had been deemed useless for information and sold, that he had attempted to count the days. He finally lost count on day 113.

He knew he had been here for several months, he could feel the changes in the air as it filled his cell from the small window.

Spring.

Summer.

And now Fall.

He could barely remember the last date he remembered seeing at the Vongola Base, February 21st.

Numerous times since he arrived he tried to calculate the days he spent in this hell hole, but could never come to a correct amount. There were just too many days that remained unaccounted for. Gokudera soon gave up on wondering. What did it matter. He was here, and wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon.

He had also given up the brief thought of being rescued the moment he left the Millefore base. He had been blind folded, restrained, and drugged. He had no clue if he even left Namimori let alone Japan. And he was never able to see the outside of building he was imprisoned in, just the inside and nothing more. Gokudera though had begun to assume that by the fact that he hadn't been rescued seemed to be proof enough that he no longer remained in Namimori. There was no way the Tenth and Yamamoto would allow him to go through such things, if he was still near them, would they? They would surely come to rescue him if they knew where he was. Sadly the window was to high for him to look out of, so he wasn't able to see his surroundings. Nor was he able to hear the sounds of a bustling city, just the dull sounds of planes flying overhead.

But of coarse he couldnt help but wonder what the others were doing now. He still remained 10 years in the future. So surely they had defeated Byakuran by now and would of returned to the rightful time they belonged to. Of coarse they would return, why wouldn't they. He was sure they returned, leaving him. Leaving him alone in this mind numbingly bleak future with no escape. But he didn't blame them, and didnt expect them to come for him.

What about his future self though? What would happen to him when all the others returned and he did not? Would his future self be forever suspended in Irie's machine?

Gokudera had plenty of time to broad over such things and allowed the memories and thoughts of his friends to fill his head as the men mercilessly thrusted into him, their fingers digging painfully and uncaringly into his skin. It helped a little bit, helped him not to feel them.

The first weeks were unbearable, never had he ever imagined his body would ever feel so much pain. He cried each time, every night, nonstop as they continued to violate him over and over without rest.

Though slowly and steadily his body and mind became numb to the feeling. He couldn't even cry anymore. He just wanted it to end, and willed his self to blackout each time they entered him, so he wouldn't have to feel the pain any longer.

Since his first idea didn't work Gokudera soon found an alternative, and would clench his hands into a fist, digging his nails painfully into his palms until they drew blood. That was the answer, that was his one and only distraction, the small fleeting pain that was caused by no one but his self. It helped him forget the undeniable ripples of pleasure that flowed through him as his prostrate was hit. The feeling disgusted him, and he would dig his nails deeper into his skin, never allowing his self aknowledge the feeling, never allowing his self to come. He would never give them that satisfaction.

After they were finished, they would leave him, still chained to the bed, feeling nothing but shame and disgust.

'How low he had fell.' He thought after each time.

A loud clanging of keys and heavy footsteps snapped him out of his thoughts and had his muscles stiffening. He shoved his body back further into the small crevice were the two brick walls met, his shackled hands scrapping roughly against the jagged brick walls.

'Not me not me not me not me…' He chanted in his head as the guard slowed and stopped in front of his cell. Gokudera closed his eyes tightly feigning sleep. He didn't know if he could take anymore today, he had already served four customers earlier in the day.

Both his stomach and heart fell as he heard the guard shove the rusty key in his cell door, unlocking it, and jerking the door open. Gokudera remained in his corner as the man advanced upon him and grabbed his arm roughly, yanking him to his feet. Gokudera hissed quietly, wobbling on his shaky legs, as the guard dragged him out of his cell. Gokudera remembered his first trip down this hall and closed his eyes tightly as he was yanked down the narrow space.

When he was first brought down the hall, his eyes had remained open. It was part of Gokudera's plan to remember every detail of his new found prison and home, every door, window, hallway….he soon wished he had kept his eyes closed. For on his way down the hall he soon discovered that he was not the only prisoner being held in this disgusting hell hole. Of coarse he originally assumed he wasn't the only one for two reasons. One: He had been sold for a very high price by Byakuran, which made assume that this was some sort of slave ring, or in his case sex slave ring. And reason number two: He could hear the screams and pleas of numerous others as he entered. But seeing the narrow hallway lined with cells beyond cells was a sickening sight. Gokudera couldn't help but be curious as he passed the cells, and glanced in a few, each one was filled with others just like him, dirt covered terrified men cowering in their own hell. When Gokudera reached his cell he was choking down his vomit at the sheer number of captives this prison held. It did nothing for him to know this, but only fueled the helplessness he felt. He was never going to leave this place. This was the place he was going to die in.

Feeling the difference in air pressure hit his face, Gokudera opened his eyes. They had finally reached the end of the hall and was now entering a long dark red hall dully lit by small pink lights, that was littered with doors that housed 'customers'. A few faint yells and screams was barely audible as they passed several of the rooms. The guard made sure to tighten his grip upon Gokudera's arm as he hauled him down the hall. This was about the time that the 'purchase's' or 'prisoners' would try and escape. Gokudera himself had attempted to escape at this very point once as well. Obviously he failed and was easily caught and rewarded with a severe beating and a broken nose.

After double checking the papers in his hand the guard halted in front of door number 80 and lightly knocked upon it. A muffled 'Enter' could be heard from inside and the guard open the door dragging Gokudera inside with him.

"Good Evening Sir." The guard said politely bowing, forcing Gokudera to bow along with him. Gokudera hissed and gritted his teeth in pain as his sore body was forced forward to bow. "You're purchase Sir." The guard stated pulling Gokudera further into the dark navy colored room. Gokudera hissed to his self again as he was presented so tastelessly to a tall gangly man that stood before him.

"Yess mmm…he's perfect.." The tall man slurred slightly, taking a lock of Gokudera silver hair into his pale long fingers. Gokudera leered at him, his nose scrunching up as he caught a whiff of strong alcohol.

'Perfect the bastard's drunk!'

But then again they all were. Most of them were drunks, druggies, losers and low lifers. Every now and then he was faced with a random rich man looking for a good thrill or random lay. Nerveless they all were rough, and cared only of their selves and nothing else. Apparently this was the kind of place where they could pay to spend a certain amount of hours with a man and do whatever they pleased with that man as well. Gokudera had felt it all, or he liked to assume he had.

The guard pulled Gokudera past the man and to the bed pushing him on to it. Once on the bed, the guard pulled his arms up above his head to the metal head board and locked his already shackled hands to another shackle, that would prevent him from moving from the bed. His legs were the only appendages that remained unshackled.

"Please enjoy your time Sir." The guard announced as he bowed before exiting, closing the door lightly behind him. Gokudera almost sighed as he heard the familiar sound of the lock clicking as the guard locked the door from the outside. He couldn't help but hope each time that maybe one of the guards would forget and he could perhaps make his escape.

Gokudera took the chance once when he first arrived. He realized that he was able to break the rusty lock he was chained too. He quickly freed his shackled hands and viciously beat the drunken 'customer' and went to make his escape, only to realize that the guards locked the doors from the outside.

Thanks to the numerous times he was summoned he observed that whenever the 'customer' was finished with their 'purchase' or their time had run out, they would push a small door bell looking button located near the door, a guard would then report to that room and escort the 'customer' out, before returning Gokudera back to his cell.

All of it was sickening.

"Mmm..haha.."The man licked his lips and he advanced upon the restrained Gokudera, who almost wanted to smirk. He had been in this room before and knew exactly how to distract his self from the gangly man. He closed his eyes as his fingers searched for the small familiar jagged piece of metal. 'Ah found it!'

Gokudera gripped it roughly, feeling it pierce his skin.

'Feel the pain. Concentrate on the pain and only the pain. Nothing else.' He coached his self.

"Well lets get started, shall we?"

Gokudera winced as he sat up sharply, woken from his sleep by the sounds of screams. His sleepy unfocused eyes quickly focused just as another prisoner was drug down the hall, his legs kicking up dirt and dust as he was pulled by.

He sighed and relaxed back into his usual corner, his legs limply stretched out before him. Every inch of his body pulsed and ached fiercely. The last 'customer' had done a number on him, beating him like he was a piñata. Thankfully the man was to drunk to aim properly and most of his hits landed on Gokudera's chest instead of his face. Though now his chest was now nothing more but a large bruise. 'I think he broke the skin along with a rib or two.' He grimaced to his self, adjusting his self slightly. 'Maybe I should have let him hit me in the head. Then I would finally be free of this place.' Gokudera was far past his breaking point and was now wishing and hoping for nothing more than a quick swift death, or an escape perhaps. 'Haha..yeah right.' He chuckled darkly to his self as he slowly drifted back to sleep.

Gokudera was woken once again, how many minutes, he didn't know, not enough that's for sure, as a guard banged on his cell door and shoved a plate of the usual gruel under the cell doors.

"Move you're ass!" The guard snarled at him as he shuffled to his feet, grimacing as tremors of pain racked his body, his back particularly. "Hurry up, I don't have time for you're slow ass!"

Gokudera positioned his self with his back to the cell door, the guard mumbling curses as he yanked Gokudera's hands through the bars. Gokudera hissed as the guard twisted them roughly and unlocked them, he let his arms fall limply to his side once they were freed.

"You better be done by the time I come back!" The guard snarled again pushing Gokudera, causing him to stumble forward almost falling to his face.

"Fucking bastard.."Gokudera growled under his breath as the guard continued down the row of cells.

Slowly and pathetically Gokudera crawled back to his usual corner, dragging his tray of food with him. He ate his food quickly, glaring at it as he shoveled into his mouth. It was the usual small cup of water which he downed quickly, coating his parched dry throat, a small roll of bread and god knows what. To Gokudera it looked that an odd form of maybe mashed potatoes and beans but in his mouth it tasted like something else. Something that should never enter someone's mouth, under any circumstance. He finally had become used to the repulsive taste but couldn't help but gag slightly as he swallowed it. During Gokudera's first few weeks he constantly gagged and even threw up a few times after each bite. But they were only fed once a day, and he regretfully feed his starving body. When he first arrived one of the guards told him the reason behind why they were only fed once a day. He told Gokudera it was to make sure the 'prisoners' weren't strong enough to fight off the guards and escape.

'Fuck, I'm most defiantly going to die here.' He thought after he was told this.

Once finished with his poor excuse of a meal he took advantage of his free hands and began stretching and exercising his sore stiff muscles. Having his arms constantly tied behind his back sure was a pain in the ass. While stretching he looked his self over, the once teal now dirt tan ripped t-shirt, his torn, tattered and dirtied jeans were covered in dried blood and other various dried substances. The sight of them made him sick to his stomach and he wetted his hand and immediately set out to get rid of them. He groaned in pain as he vigorously scrubbed away at the stiff fabric, his fingers and wrists sore and stiff before he finally gave up.

Slowly he opened his palms wincing in pain at the fresh new cut he had given his self hours earlier, it was red and still moist with blood and sweat. How he didn't die of an infection in this place due to his wounds he didn't know. Gokudera tore off a piece of what was left of his right t-shirt sleeve and tightly wrapped it around the wound. He briefly thought of using material from his shirt to wrap his wrists as well, they were red and raw from being constantly shackled and bleeding lightly. He was just about to do so when the guard's face leered at him through the bars chuckling darkly.

'There goes that idea.'

Gokudera got numbly to his feet, handing his tray under the bars to the guard, and assumed his regular position as his hands were once again shackled. Gokudera could hear the guard speaking to him, most likely taunting him, but he ignored him and returned to his corner once his tight restraints were locked, his tiered mind slowly drifting off back to sleep.

"-Oi! I said get you're ass up!"

Gokudera groaned loudly doubling over in pain, as sharp pain shot through his side. His eyes focused just in time to see a dusty dirt covered boot as it made contact with his face. He whimpered, his hands struggling in their confines desperately wanting to comfort his aching face. Gokudera could now feel the warm thick liquid running from his nose and down his face, some of it getting in his mouth.

He coughed on the iron tasting liquid as the guard pulled him up by his wrists. Gokudera bit his lip but couldn't stop the pained groan that escaped his lips as he was once again drug out of his cell.

"Move your fucking ass! You've got a customer."

He once again found his self drug down the long narrow hall and into the long red hall.

Room 27 this time.

The guard knocked on the door loudly before opening it slowly.

"Pardon me Sir." The guard bowed, forcing Gokudera to do the same once again. "You're purchase Sir." The guard once again jerked Gokudera forward. Gokudera squinted his eyes shut, still feeling the pain in his face, not seeing the man before him.

The guard fell into the normal routine of locking Gokudera to the bed, before bowing and once again leaving, locking the door behind him.

Silence.

Gokudera squeezed his eyes shut tighter, willing his self to concentrate on the pain his face ached.

Shuffling.

Gokudera dug his nails into his palms, drawing blood once again.

Footsteps. Heavy breathing.

'Focus! Focus on the pain.'

"H-Hayato?" A shaky familiar voice filled the room.

Gokudera's heart stopped and his eyes snapped open, franticly searching the room for the one the voice belonged to. He could feel his tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

"T-takes-shi!" Gokudera's voice croaked, his eyes falling upon the tall tanned form of his lover.

Mkay! So tell me what you think. Should I continue?