PyrrhicVictories: Wow...My first fic on this site and it's dark and twisted. Ah well, extra-heavy workload+lack of sleep+waaay too much Depeche Mode dark, cynical story. This fic was inspired by Depeche Mode's "Never Let Me Down Again", the lyrics to which appear below. If you haven't heard it, I'd suggest finding it. It's an awesome song, and if you only read the lyrics, it's hard to realize just how sarcastic and dark (in an 80's sort of way) this song is.

As an aside, in happier forms this is actually my second-favorite paring in this series. I love these characters, and I feel a little bad for giving them such a disturbing dynamic, but the story attached itself to me and wouldn't let go untill I'd written it out. Funny how these things work...

If anyone finds this interesting, please do review. Constructive reviews are always welcome - flames will be fed to the salamander that resides in my desk drawer.

Synopsis: A dark, alternate look at the relationship between Yuugi and Yami. What's a little suffering, if it's for your own good?

Warnings: AU-ish,some OOC-ness, slight shonen-ai, general dysfunctional behavior and wierdness.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh, or Depeche Mode, or really much of anything else for that matter.

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"Never Let Me Down Again", Depeche Mode

I'm taking a ride
With my best friend
I hope he never lets me down again

He knows where he's taking me
Taking me where I want to be
I'm taking a ride
With my best friend
We're flying high
We're watching the world pass us by

Never want to come down
Never want to put my feet back down
On the ground

I'm taking a ride
With my best friend
I hope he never lets me down again
Promises me I'm as safe as houses
As long as I remember who's wearing the trousers
I hope he never lets me down again
Never let me down

See the stars they're shining bright
Everything's alright tonight

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"For My Own Good"

It's all for my own good.

I know it's true. Sometimes he says so, whispers it in my ear, or in my mind, but often he doesn't have to say a word. I know that everything he does is for me. I must be a burden, a weight around his ankle, I know I am. But still he keeps me, doesn't banish me or shut me out forever. He stands in my place, strong where I would be weak, a clenched fist where I would have foolishly offered an open hand. That's why he has to do this, he reminds me. I'm not strong enough to dispense true justice, to punish. I cannot protect myself. He protects me with a vengeance, destroying anyone that would harm us. Sometimes, his methods make me a little sick. Sometimes they terrify me. That's why he has to be in charge. He does it all for me.

They love him.

It still hurts, sometimes, to see the way that they look at him. They can't tell the difference between us, though to me it's clear as night and day. I watch from behind my own eyes as they follow him, hanging on his every move. I knew them first! They liked me even before he came...at least I thought they did. But this is for me too, he tells me. My friends will see that I can be strong, powerful. They'll respect me, even if they stop liking me in the end. Being respected is more important than being liked, he reminds me. Alone with him in my soulroom, I want to ask if it's better even if we're feared, but then he smirks at me, brushes my face with his long fingers, and my tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth, and I fall silent.

After all, I understand why they watch him. I watch him too.

I can't see how they can't tell the difference between us. We may be similar on the surface, but I could never match his beauty. He's tall where I am short, graceful while I'm forever clumsy, as sleek and predatory as I am childlike. His every glance sends a jolt through me, and when I look away, red-faced and flustered, he just laughs, a low, wicked sound. I tell him, sometimes, that I wish I could be more like him, and he just says that, to everyone else, I am him. That, he reminds me, is how it should be. He is establishing a reputation for me. It's all for my own good, he says, gazing down on me.

Sometimes I hate it.

There are times, when he forces me out, locks me away in my own mind as if I were a toy, that I can't bear it anymore. Times when he claims the affection of my friends, times when I see her eyes shining and know that they're shining for him, that I want to rage at him, order him away, want to take control of my body and mind and soul again and just be alone!

I tried it, once. I stood before him, never meeting his eyes with mine, and informed him that if he didn't give me a little more respect, treat me more like a partner and less like a plaything, I would drive him out, throw his little puzzle away and never come back for him, and then what would he do? He just laughed, and stalked around me slowly, gazing at me with those glorious, wicked eyes of his – and then he pounced. He caught my chin in his hand, pressed his lips to mine – and flooded my mind with everything I had been before he came. Weak, fragile, sobbing little boy, alone and friendless, begging for a companion. Was this really the way it was? Was I really so...useless alone? Sobbing, I fell at his feet, saw him turn away. My anger fell away, and I clutched at his ankles like the little child I was. Everything I have done was done for you, he told me without turning around. Through my tears, I stammered my apologies. How could I have been so foolish? Would I do anything that was not for your own good? he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

Since that day, I've held my anger in check. I wouldn't want to lose him, my other half, my better half. And, in the end, why should I be angry? Even if, in the end, I see the world only through his eyes, that's enough, right? After all, he'd never really do anything that I didn't want, somewhere deep inside – nothing that wasn't for my own good.

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Owari.