The line between pain and numbness became difficult to draw. Just when Ryou felt as if he couldn't feel any more, Namu continued to push his body past its limits. His chest felt as if it were on fire, the heat licking up to his neck as he struggled to find his breath. He knew he had lost quite a bit of blood from before and that his stamina wasn't the best.

Namu had branded him with five burns on his chest, likely permanent scars if Ryou survived this ordeal. Ryou learned that even if it wasn't as painful as before, each new exposure to a different form of pain was just as startling and excruciating as before. Even if his body knew it wasn't as life-threatening as other injuries might have been, his brain convinced him that the pain was real.

If it wasn't Ryou's life on the line, he would have admired the serial killer's mastery and study of psychosomatic pain. The threat and tease of greater pain was enough to drive him mad.

Ryou tilted his head over to the side, Namu seemingly sharpening something. It didn't necessarily have to be knives. Even from his position, Ryou could see the various "equipment" Namu had gathered. The rod, or rather a poker at this point, sat among a collection of various knives. Ryou morbidly wondered if he had named any of them.

His eyes settled on a pair of pliers, which Namu hadn't used thankfully. Ryou didn't particularly want to think about that. The liquid worried him the most, not eager to find out of the deranged serial killer just wanted a glass of water or if he was looking at acid. Strangely enough, the only thing on the table that didn't concern Ryou was the gun. The Colt M1877, i.e. the "Lightning;" the very weapon that landed a bullet in his hip.

He figured that Namu would only use it when he got bored or if something interrupted them. Shooting Ryou would be far too merciful. Even the detective understood that he was meant to suffer until he finally died, no matter how long it took.

Ryou's pride became a distant memories, his screams and exhaustion laid bare to his captor. Despite his fear that this would soon becoming boring to his captor, he quickly realized his agony fueled the madman, urging him to learn what else he could do to break the detective. And the straps cutting into Ryou's wrists reminded him of how helpless he was and how hopeless the situation had become.

Ryou felt tired, aware that if Namu didn't kill him soon, then he would pass out from blood loss. If he blacked out again, there was no guarantee that he would wake.

Ryou fluttered his eyes open, his breath shallow. Namu stood over him, grinning.

"Tired already? We've hardly done anything."

"I didn't realize… you need this much foreplay to get off," Ryou snapped back, though the words were slow to leave his lips. If he couldn't fight the man off physically, he could at least sass him, for what little it would do. Ryou didn't want to be seen as submissive and obedient, not in front of his killer.

"I'm worth the effort-" Namu snorted, his lavender eyes flicking over the burns and cuts and bruises along Ryou's chest with a sense of pride.

"Are you, though?"

Namu chuckled, a smirk on his face. "Deflecting now? Trying to steal away my fun. Is it that you're afraid to die?"

"Not particularly," Ryou rolled his eyes, a pitiful attempt at boredom. Even now, tremors wracked through Ryou's body and his mouth felt sluggish, the words coming in broken phrases. Maintaining the façade became too difficult. "If you keep this up… I'll die of boredom sooner than anything you can think of… You're pretty unoriginal… in terms of torture… It's disappointing, really."

His words had the effect Ryou had been looking for. Namu slapped him across the face, Ryou flinching away. The slight sting barely registered against the agony that was his chest. Ryou glared up defiantly as Namu gripped his jaw tightly, his fingers digging into his skin. Ryou refused to back down, gathering up some saliva before spitting at the face hovering above him.

Ryou grinned when it landed in Namu's eye. He hissed under his breath pulling away. Ryou slammed his eyes shut, feeling another harsh slap to his face. His eyes opened into slits, realizing that Namu wasn't done venting his rage. He drew his fist back again, Ryou flinching away from the pain he was already anticipating.

After a few seconds, Ryou flicked one eye open, confused as to why Namu held back. He noticed that Namu remained poised over Ryou, but he looked over his shoulder at the door. Ryou felt his heart skip a beat, a sudden delirious hope filling him despite how stupid it was to. He held his breath, both of them staring at the door.

It was at that moment that Ryou heard the noise, the soft clicking. His heart froze, realizing that someone was trying to pick the lock. Namu seemed to have that same thought. Ryou squirmed, a panic consuming him. The door clicked, the lock finally undone.

Ryou's eyes widened as he saw Malik standing in the entrance. Relief and dread consumed him.

"Malik! Get out!" Ryou screamed, desperate.

Namu lunged across Ryou, snatching the gun resting on the other table. His weight and momentum tilted the bed sideways, Ryou screaming as he suddenly tumbled to the floor. The cold, hard floor was agony against his tortured skin, but he barely paid any attention to that. He heard the sound of gunfire, the weight of the bed on top of him preventing him seeing what was actually happening.

"Ryou!" Malik's voice was filled with anger, gunshots filling in after his cry as they shot off another round. Ryou had so desperately fought for his life so that the police would find them. He hadn't gone through all this effort for Namu to now kill the man he loved. Ryou pushed through the pain, ignoring how his hip throbbed upon the hard impact. His pain didn't matter now.

It was only then that Ryou realize that one of his bindings was loose. The cuff that held down his left hand had loosened, the restraint broken when it struck the floor. Ryou realized what this meant, tugging his left hand free quickly. Despite the awkward angle being suspended sideways on the floor, Ryou didn't waste any time trying to free his other hand.

He had to stop Namu, no matter what it took.

Ryou dug his fingers into the binding, struggling to undo the bond. He could hear the exchange of gunfire. It seemed that Malik was hiding around the door frame, using it as cover to lean in and shoot at Namu. Ryou could only hope that he had more back up than that, or else they were in serious danger.

Ryou hissed as he freed his other hand, his weight no longer supported by the fallen bed. He pressed his palms firmly to the ground, slowly lifting himself up. He didn't want Namu to notice that he had gotten free. He gripped the side of the bed, using it as leverage to slip his ankles through the leather straps with minor chaffing. Finally freed, Ryou realized he needed to think of some way to get Namu's attention away from Malik. He needed to think of a way to restraint Jack the Ripper.

Ryou took a deep breath, looking up at the table that had rolled away when Namu lunged for the gun. The collection of knives flashed in Ryou's mind and he crawled away from the safety the bed had given him. He heard the gunfire above him, keeping his head low. He snapped his gaze up, noticing how Namu looked furious, cackling as he tried to goad Malik out.

"Decided to join in on the fun, Malik? I'll give you a souvenir to remember me by!" Namu took another shot, the bullet grazing against the door frame. Ryou caught the motion of Malik moving back, trying to engage but stay out of harm's way.

Ryou didn't trust himself to speak. His voice seemed to fail him, He reached an unsteady hand up, feeling around until he gripped the handle of a knife. He brought it down close, scooting out of sight. Namu was focused on Malik, convinced that Ryou was immobile and effectively trapped.

Ryou could hear Malik's breathing, an almost panicked tone to the unsteady gasps. "Give up, Namu! The police have closed in on your location! Put down the gun and surrender!"

Namu snarled, insulted by the idea of laying down his weapons. Ryou moved slowly, trying to avoid detection. He shifted so that he was behind Namu, approaching him from his blind spot.

Ryou's eyes flicked to the doorway in front of the serial killer. Though Malik was out of sight, he could see the shadow of his silhouette in the dim lighting on the wall across the hallway. He was nearby, poised to strike. Any attempt at talking the criminal down failed when Ryou watched Namu clench his pistol, aiming at the doorway.

"Like hell I'm surrendering!"

Malik flipped around the corner, gun raised as the two fired off a shot. Ryou's heart froze when he saw Malik fall backwards onto the ground, crying sharply from pain as a bullet found its mark. Knowing he couldn't move fast enough, Ryou screeched. With more energy than he thought was possible given his condition, Ryou lunged at Namu, closing the few feet that separated them.

Namu snapped his head back, startled as Ryou leapt onto his back. Ryou didn't know what he was doing exactly. He just knew that he had stop Namu at whatever cost, all planning be damned. Malik wasn't about to die for his sake. Ryou remembered the knife that he gripped, struggling to bring it around to slice at his throat.

Namu suddenly found himself fighting off Ryou, one hand trying to pry Ryou off of him while the other deflected the raised knife. Ryou struggled, trying to pull the knife closer. Ryou hated how the cotton of Namu's shirt rubbed up against his raw and bloodied chest, ignoring the pain. It became easier to ignore as he became more desperate. Ryou had never killed anyone before, but he would if he had to. He would kill this serial killer, fuck due process, if it stopped him here and now.

Justice didn't matter any more. Only survival.

Namu snarled, snatching at Ryou's wrist to keep his knife at bay. Ryou dug his nails into his shoulder, certain he felt the skin broke. Namu yowled, his lavender eyes catching Ryou's.

"You bitch!"

Ryou yanked to free his wrist, his hatred unbridled at the man he fought against. "That's for fucking up my chest!"

Namu stumbled back a few steps, struggling to stay upright with Ryou's weight. Even though he was lighter, Ryou was fueled by desperation and anger. Ryou thought naively he might actually have a chance of weakening Namu. When Namu managed to tear his hand out of his shoulder, Ryou flung his fingers at his face, digging into whatever soft flesh he could find. Anything he could think of slow the madman down and keep them alive longer.

Namu huffed, glancing back as he stumbled back some more. It was then that Ryou realized that it was intentional, Namu backing both of them up until he could slam Ryou against the stone wall. The impact was jarring, Ryou feeling his breath stolen away from him. The back of his head smacked into the stone, Ryou swearing at the sharp pain that exploded across his vision.

Ryou felt Namu grab his forearm. He struggled against it, but he was tired and weak from blood loss. Before he could struggle away, Namu keeled forward, pitching Ryou forward into the ground. Ryou gasped sharply, his entire body shaking at the impact. Stars exploded across his vision and for a moment, Ryou grew terrified that he would black out again. He managed to hold on to reality, his limbs trembling uncontrollably as his body reached its breaking point.

The thought of protecting himself crossed Ryou's mind. He forced his eyes open, searching for the dagger he had lost in the scuffle. He spotted the knife across the room and away from the two men. His vision grew fuzzy, Ryou struggling to focus, aware that he couldn't give up now. Not after pissing off his captor so.

Ryou willed himself to move, knowing he didn't have time to lie around. But his body didn't seem to realize that, his muscles unsteady as he tried to lift himself back up. He had only just barely struggled to his knees when a sharp kick brought him back down. Ryou was stupid to think that Namu was going to overlook his little act of rebellion.

Ryou curled in to where he was kicked, knowing that his pale skin would bruise even more than it had. He panted, glaring up from his spot at the serial killer. To his delight, he had done more damage than he had initially thought. Namu's lip was torn, his eye was squinted from where he dug his nails in. He could see the bloody scratches on Namu's shoulder, his shirt rumpled and torn from their struggle.

It didn't even register to Ryou when he saw the raised pistol, aimed at his head. There was a grim satisfaction as he glared up at his executioner. At least he gave him a few scars to remember him by.

Ryou took one last breath, the sharp crack of a gunshot cutting through the air.

Ryou blinked, taking in a shaky breath. He took another breath as if to convince himself that he was still alive. Namu's hand remained on the pistol but his expression grew slack, an almost dazed look to his face. Ryou thought mercy for a moment, that he had only imagined his death. That was until he saw the rust spread from Namu's chest, staining his cloak.

Ryou scooted back as Namu tumbled to his knees, his lavender eyes growing dull. The gun fell from his hand and he pitched forward, collapsing onto the stone. Ryou watched as his breathing slowed, staring at the wild chaos of blond. He felt transfixed, mesmerized as he watched the final moments of Jack the Ripper.

There was a gentle exhale, his final breath.

It was only then that Ryou looked up from the body. There, Malik knelt by the doorway, leaning against the frame. He clenched his waist, which was painted red much as Namu's chest had been. He looked pale, his skin taking an almost graying tint under the dim lighting.

Ryou took in a breath, the moment finally setting in on him. Like a terrible nightmare, he was waking up and trying to regain sense of what was real. His body shook, Ryou wincing as he tried to slide himself towards Malik. Now that the danger had passed, the adrenaline dissipated, reminding Ryou of all of his injuries. His burning chest, his throbbing leg, his broken hip.

Ryou could handle the physical pain. It was the weight of everything else that was too much to bear.

A ragged breath tore from Ryou's lips. He tried to fight it, tried to fight the cascade of emotions that threatened to sweep him away. But as Malik staggered towards him, exhausted and trembling, it consumed Ryou. A broken sob slipped through, Ryou shaking his head as he felt too overwhelmed, too overjoyed, overburdened and whatever else he could think of.

Malik tumbled down next to him, on his knees as he reached a hand out to Ryou. The weary look in his eyes captured all that Ryou felt where words failed them. Ryou couldn't stop the tears that fell, leaking down his cheeks as he struggled to find his breath. Sitting up was too difficult, so exhausting that Ryou collapsed into Malik's lap, feeling broken by all that had occurred.

"It's over," Ryou whispered, trying to ascertain that all that had transpired had finally come to an end. Even with the body of the infamous serial killer laying near, Ryou couldn't process it. His brain didn't know where to separate reality from fantasy. The only concrete thing, the only thing that could reassure him was Malik's fingers brushing against his cheeks, wiping away his tears.

"It's over. You're safe," Malik muttered back, offering reassurance as much as seeking it. Ryou felt his fingers brush through his hair, gentle and reassuring.

In a flash, Ryou felt the earlier sting of pain – a slap to his face, his windpipe being crushed, the fire burning his chest still, the physical trauma that haunted him. He shook at the memories, trying to replace them with the soft caress that reassured him that it was all over. That Namu couldn't hurt him anymore. But his body shook, his defenses still up, yet with each brush of fingers against his cheek, Ryou felt his guard chipping away, piece by piece.

Soon, the sobs overwhelmed Ryou. He was tired of being strong. He had done everything he could think to survive. From the moment their plans fell apart, Ryou had been in survival mode the entire time. He didn't have time to grieve or mourn his situation, to give in to despair. He had been certain that he would die in this stone coffin, only to be found too late.

Ryou heard the sound of footsteps, the police now finally catching up to Malik in their pursuit of the killer. Ryou didn't pay them any attention, seeking comfort from all that happened. The months of research, agony of the chase, the terror of these last 24 hours, was finally at an end. They had finally caught Jack the Ripper.

And yet it was not how Ryou expected it to be.

Ryou felt himself grow tired, blood loss and lack of sleep weighing on him. Malik's touch was warm and soothing, a welcome difference from the pain that had been inflicted on him. He would file a report with Seto later. He would close out the case properly and move on to other work. The city at large would learn of the death of the infamous serial killer and finally move past this shadow.

But Ryou knew this shadow would haunt him long after these events had passed. He would bear this burden, remembering the horrors and hell that was wrought in this place. He would wear these scars for the rest of his life.

Yet Ryou took comfort that he alone wouldn't carry this burden. Even now, he felt tears dropping down to his cheeks, mixing with his own.