Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
A/n: It was just something that I felt compelled to write last night, it apparently needed to get out. Then it apparently needed to be reported on y! (it has been restored since then, with no problems) So in case you happened to wonder, this is what it was. Not really anything else I have to say about it. Sorry it's so short. Implied YAOI
A dull snap; the whirr of pain about to come.
A sharp crack.
Pain seared his skin, opening the pale flesh and exposing the muscle beneath, warmth pouring from the laceration. Another snap of the whip as it came down against his skin, biting the flesh before tearing it away. His jaw tightens, teeth grinding together, grinding against the inside of his cheek. He wouldn't give the satisfaction of vocalizing his pain, his swallowed grunts, muffled groans were more than enough.
Dark orbs were glassy, washed over with the sting of the hurt coursing through his veins. It was sharper, angrier than the whip coming down on him, the chains keeping his arms stretched up and to his sides, pulling his skin taunt, his blood running coolly down his skin, the soft patter as it dripped into the pools on the floor.
Another bite; a muffled grunt, short nails digging into the flesh of his palms, his wrists turning, grinding against the metal keeping him in place. There was no point in fighting it, no point in working himself up when everything was steadily going downhill. He could feel his head spinning, vision blurring as his life slowly flowed from the new wounds, the new lashes opening the ones that had yet to be healed.
He was being pulled apart from the inside out. The chains keeping him open, pulling him in one direction, then the other, trapped between two extremes. Light and Dark. He wanted the release, the ease of leaving this burden behind, of letting those who still clung to him go, they would move on without the worry of keeping him safe, happy. He wanted to go back, to feel safe, loved; to be reminded just why he had fought against the dark all those years ago.
A deep growl; "Are you going to give in yet?"
Silence.
Another crack, creamy skin snapping open; his back arched into and away from the pain. His body couldn't make up its mind anymore, he couldn't choose. He wanted to sleep, wanted to stay awake. He wanted to be forgotten, wanted to be acknowledged. He wanted to not need, wanted to feel needed. He wanted the cold, to be alone, but wanted to be embraced, to feel the warmth of the arms he loved so much wrapped around him.
He was torn, he was being torn.
A strangled sob.
He couldn't feel his fingers anymore; the sharp nips on his palms a dull pain. His muscles ached, his body craved, but there was no escape, no relief. Only this; the sharp whips, the searing pain, his head aching, pounding with the thoughts crashing into one another, contrasting each other.
"Have you had enough?"
Silence.
The quiet whirr; the stir of air behind him.
A sharp crack.
A muffled groan. He'd had enough but would continue to withstand it, to take everything given to him even if his body bled, broke down, gave in. He'd still fight it; his mind reeling with thoughts, his heart pumping for the only reason it had ever known.
For him.
A soft whisper, "It was always you.."