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Giving In	By : DracOnyx Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > General Views: 2476 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters of Yu-Gi-Oh. If I did, Marik, Bakura, and Yami would never be allowed to leave my bed *grin*
WARNING - This fic contains YAOI, non-consensual sex, blood, and dark content. Do not read further if that isn't your thing.
Author's Notes - This fic is being written for Acidflower, aka Acidburn, who is one of the best dark fic writers I've ever had the pleasure of reading.
Cheers to you, luv and I hope you continue to enjoy it.
No sex in this chapter . . . just a lot of plot development and general Yugi/Yami torment. Enjoy . . . and please review.

Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Mind

Solomon Motou walked into the Game Shop early the next morning. Looking around, the elderly man sighed and set about sweeping before the shop was
to open in an hour. Whistling cheerfully, he swept and cleaned the store before heading into the house proper. He stopped cold as he spied Yugi's
backpack and homework still spread out over the coffee table, and sighed.
"Yugi . . ."he murmured. "Silly boy . . . couldn't get out of bed without assistance this morning, could you?" He grinned. His grandson hated mornings,
and frequently needed a boost to get out of bed in the morning, as he would happily shut his alarm clock off and pass back out. Shaking his head, Solomon
walked up the stairs slowly, thinking of what he would say to Yugi and the whirlwind his grandson was about to become as the small teenager flew about
the house to get to school, even late.
He grew cold as he walked down the hallway towards Yugi's room. The bedroom door was wide open . . . and Yugi always slept wit cit closed. 'Perhaps
he just forgot,' the elderly man thought to himself. With his failing eyesight, he never saw the bloody hand print beside the door.
The short shopkeeper gasped in horror as he entered the bedroom of his beloved grandson. His eyes took in the blood soaked sheets, the bloody, stiffened
towel . . . and the broken and battered body lying unmoving beneath it.
"YUGI!" Solomon howled, scrambling to the boy's side, his mind whirling as he took in the damage to his grandson. Shaking, he reached for the phone,
dialing the emergency hotline quickly as he stared down in disbelief at the small body, shock making his voice much steadier than he would have thought
possible.
"Yes . . . this is Solomon Motou of the Kame Game Shop . . . I need an ambulance as soon as mortally possible. My grandson . . . my grandson has been
attacked."

*-------*-------*-------*-------*

"I don't understand it . . ." Solomon whispered, staring at the unmoving body that lay in the intensive care unit of the hospital. "How could someone do
this to my poor little Yugi?"
Joey shook his head, his own eyes filled with tears as he too stared at the broken form of his best friend. The list of injuries the doctor's had given them
had been horrendous . . . besides the wound in the shoulder, there had been bite marks on several parts of the small boy's body, bruises where he'd been
beaten . . . and massive evidence of forced sexual intercourses bes best friend . . . the most innocent and joyful person he'd ever met in his life . . . had been
raped.
"What I don't get," Tristan murmured from behind him, where he held a crying Serenity, "is where Yami was? He's supposed to protect Yugi, by his own
admission . . . so how did this happen?" The others were silent except for the sounds of weeping. It was a question they all wondered fearfully . . . what if
Yami had been in control of Yugi's body when he was raped? It was something the Yami they knew would have done . . . take the boy and lock him in his
Soul Room to protect his mind from the horror, and then bear the brunt of it himself. But . . . Yami had been a Pharaoh back in Ancient Egypt. Could he
withstand the mental and physical strain of being completely at someone's mercy?
So, the friends waited and watched, unsure who they were waiting for, only knowing that they were waiting, and wondering what had happened.

*------*-------*------*------*

Yugi shivered in a corner of his Soul Room . . . a small, huddled ball of sobbing, shaking flesh and clothing. The Soul Room itself was nothing like what he
remembered it. The walls were cracked and peeling, the light dim and flickering. The toys his room had once been littered with were gone, signifying the end
of his innocence. Only three things remained in the room beside himself . . . a knife, a piece of rope, and blood. There was blood everywhere . . . wherever
the wide amethyst eyes looked, he could see the red substance, dried and caked on the walls, liquid splashes of it on the floor.
He was afraid to move . . . afraid even to breathe for fear of what would happen. He was trapped in this hellish room, surrounded on all sides by the
reminder of what Yami had done to him. He no longer called him his Yami . . . that fiend had not been the spirit he had come to know so well. He refused
to believe it . . . but deep in his mind, in corners that lay shadowed even from him, he recalled what the fiend had said.
"Have you never stopped to think what five thousand years trapped in darkness would do to a soul? You already know what it did to Bakura . . .
didn't you ever wonder how I stayed so sane when Bakura seems to have gone psychotic? You never did, did you? Little lost innocent . . . so
unconcerned with how things are the way they are, as long as all is right in the world ."
"Yami," he whispered, his voice hoarse and choked with longing. He wanted his friend and guardian back . . . but at the same time, he was deathly afraid.
Could he ever look at Yami the same again?
Some small corner of him wondered if this als all his fault. What Yami had said was true . . . he had dreamed of Yami loving him physically, quite often of
late, once Battle City was done. He had woken in the middle of the night many times since the end of that tournament, bathed in sweat, his body singing
with pleasure from dreams of the crimson eyed Pharaoh touching him intimately. He'd been ashamed of them . . . how could he think of his other that way?
But he'd been helpless to stop them . . . just as he'd been helpless to stop the growing feelings he'd had for his yami. He loved the spirit with a passion
he'd only felt before while dueling . . . but that love was fragmented now, buried deep below the fear that his yami was gone forever, replaced by the fiend
who wore his face and form.
He recalled hearing Yami's voice . . . his true voice, the voice of his guardian and friend, even as the fiend Yami had taken his innocence. Was his other
trapped in this nightmare with him somehow?
The shivering began again as he looked towards his Soul Room door. It was tightly sealed shut . . . and he hadn't wanted to open it, afraid of what he
would find on the other side. In here he felt some modicum of safety . . . in here, he was himself and alone. But if his Yami needed him . . .
**Yami?** he whispered, half afraid of what would answer him.
*My . . . aibou . . .* Yami replied. His voice was weak . . . much weaker than it had been the night before. *For . . . give . . .*
**Yami! Hang on . . . I'm coming . . .** He jumped to his feet, planning to race to his Soul Room door and open it.
*NO!* Yami suddenly shouted, freezing the smaller boy in his tracks jas has his fingers reached out to grasp the handle. *Do . . . not . . . come out. I . . .
can't . . .* His voice was growing softer and weaker by the moment.
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