Hey everyone! Wow, a non-romance fic from me! I think I've only done that...once before. *checks profile* Yes, once before. Although if you want tendershipping, you can squint and look sideways and probably find that here. ^_^ Tendershipping is hard to resist. Also, I updated my other fic "Ryou & Bakura: A Series" with chapter 4, so go check that out it you want...that one is DEFINITLY tendershipping. Warning though, chapter 4 is a lemon, so, there's that. I know some ppl like to be warned.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! It was inspired by a Linkin Park song, "Robot Boy" It is NOT a songfic, merely inspired from a song, most notably this:

You say/you're not gonna fight/cuz no one will fight for you.

You think/there's not enough love/and no one to give it to.

You say/the weight of the world/has kept you from letting go.

You think/compassion's a flaw/and you'll never let it show.

ENJOY!~~

Questions

They sat in the dark, save for the dim glow of candlelight which occasionally flickered, painting its surroundings with a hungry glow.

Ryou stared mindlessly at the red wax candle, watching its flame dance on some invisible wind felt neither by him nor by the Spirit in the room with him. He might have stared at it ten minutes, or it might have been an hour, before the Spirit's voice cut through the silent room again.

"Yadonushi…I have a question."

Ryou raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise. "…Yes? Go on."

The Spirit didn't reply, and after a few minutes, Ryou turned his head to look at Bakura.

Bakura was inclined on their couch, hands folded under his head as a makeshift pillow. He stared up at the ceiling and the faint light that had temporarily made its home there, until the flame had finished devouring the wax.

Ryou returned to his previous position, eyes watching the red candle, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the couch that Bakura was lying on.

If the Spirit did not want to speak after all, that was fine. There were too few nights such as these, where they remained at a sort of peace with each other.

Too often, Ryou would be bruised and bloodied by the hands of the Spirit already.

Yes…nights such as these were too few.

"Why…have you never fought back?"

Lost in his thoughts, Ryou started just a little. He had forgotten that the Spirit had spoken before.

"What…do you mean?" he replied, slowly.

"You don't fight back…against me. You never have. Why not?"

Ryou smiled ironically to himself. "Maybe you would enjoy that too much."

The Spirit snorted at his answer. A few minutes passed. "That's not why."

Ryou nodded silently to the darkness – the Spirit was right. Eventually he replied, "It's true…that's not why…I just figure, why should I fight, when no one has ever fought for me? Before you came to me…before the ring came to me…I had lost everything. I had no family, no friends…"

"Is that what I am to you?" The Spirit asked him darkly.

"No." Ryou answered bluntly. "You're my punishment. Because why would they leave me, if I had been worth something? No one ever fought for Ryou Bakura…why should I fight for him then?"

"That's a fucked up way to look at life." Ryou could hear the amusement in Bakura's voice. It didn't faze him. Nothing really did anymore. By all measurements, he was alive – he breathed, he ate, he needed sleep – yet, he was dead. It didn't matter. Death was his life.

"It's funny, circumstances." The Spirit spoke into the dark room. "I lost everything too, you know. Only I do fight. How is it two people can lose everything and yet turn out so different?"

Ryou didn't bother to hold his comment in. "Well, aren't you evil incarnate or something?"

"Is that what I seem to you?" Bakura chuckled darkly, amused. "Yes, I guess I would."

"You can't escape from your past. Even if it happened five thousand years ago, it keeps you from letting go."

Ryou expected Bakura to hit him for saying that, to punch him, throw him to the ground, stomp him into the nothingness that he was, yet…nothing happened. Not so much as a shift of fabric, or a change in breathing pattern.

Eventually the Spirit spoke again. "You're one to talk."

"I didn't say I was ever able to let go."

This time Bakura did shift on the couch. Ryou felt Bakura's breath ghost across his hair. He turned his head back towards Bakura again, who was now laying on his side, looking at him.

"Do you ever wish I had come to save you, instead of destroy you?"

Ryou contemplated that answer, then replied "…No."

"Why?"

"You're asking a lot of questions tonight, Bakura."

"Do you want me to stop? Do you want me to beat you instead?"

Ryou shrugged, not replying.

A light smirk graced Bakura's features as he continued to stare at Ryou.

"Do you ever wish, Yadonushi…" Bakura reached towards him. Ryou swallowed hard, and felt his heart speed up, but didn't show his discomfort in any other tangible way. He wanted to cringe as Bakura reached towards him, but kept his face passive as Bakura's hand reached him, only to lightly finger a piece of his hair. Bakura ran his thumb and index finger down the strands, lightly pulling once he reached the end.

"Do you ever wish…I was sent to love you?"

Ryou closed his eyes, and despite years of practice of embracing the numbness within, felt a sharp pain clutch at his heart. He still felt Bakura's fingers on his hair, and now on his face, tracing the skin there lightly.

He was wrong. This was the worst thing Bakura could do to him.

He knew how to deal with the blows, the anger, the blood.

But when faced without mercy the very possibility of love, however remote…this hurt Ryou more than a physical blow ever could. Because it wasn't real.

"There is no love in this world, Bakura."

He felt Bakura trace a finger down his cheek, wincing slightly as pressure was put on a recent bruise there…then the finger was tracing around his mouth, and oh, his heart was breaking…

"Do you say that because no one has ever loved you? Or because you have never been given the opportunity to love?"

He felt a slow tear escape unwillingly from beneath his closed eyelids.

"Bakura…you are so…cruel."

"Only finding out how alike we really are, Yadonushi."

Ryou slowly opened his eyes, wet drops of pain clinging to his eyelashes stubbornly. "Wh-what do you mean?" Bakura's fingers continued to trace his face, leaving behind a tangible trail of unspoken words, unspoken thoughts, oh god, was this really his life…? Ryou struggled to hide under the numbness again, but found he couldn't. This…warfare…that Bakura was putting him through…

"Do you…want me, Yadonushi?"

Bakura's hand left Ryou's face and went to his own neck, where the opening of his shirt was. He tugged on the fabric lightly. "Do you…want to know what love is?"

Ryou's emotions were betraying him, betraying his careful wall, betraying his careful numbness…he nodded slightly at the Spirit, then slowly brought his hand up towards Bakura's…

Sharp pain ripped through his wrist. Before Ryou had time to process, he was flat on the ground, Bakura's foot on his chest and his wrist twisted painfully in Bakura's grasp.

"You want to know what love is, Yadonushi! I have been showing you!"

He kicked Ryou, bloodying his face and re-opening an old cut on his cheek.

It was crazy, Ryou knew, but he felt so grateful…so grateful…

"Love is HATE, Yadonushi."

Ryou silently agreed with him, thankful to be taking in the familiar again, thankful to not be confused anymore…

After it was over, he laid where he was on the ground, panting raggedly.

To his surprise, Bakura went back to his original position on the couch.

All was silent again, as the red flame danced across the walls, its light licking at Ryou's blood.

Maybe he should move, but he didn't. Ryou felt that right there was where he belonged.

He continued to stare at the flame, as his breathing calmed.

"Yadonushi…I have a question."

~fin~

I liked that ending, I just thought it would be creepy to have Bakura wanting to ask Ryou more questions again. At least, I thought it was creepy. Anyway, review please?

~Seren147