Warnings: Angst, slavery, non-consensual sex, shounen-ai, yaoi.

Disclaimer: I don't own the G-boys, nor do I make any money off this. It is a fic written by a fan for the enjoyment of other fans. Oh, I don't have any money, either, so suing me wouldn't really be worth much. ~_^

Pairings: Fear not, this is a yaoi fic. It might not seem like it in this first bit, but it is… Not that I'm going to tell you the pairings… I like to keep you in suspense!

Author's notes: Alright, yes, there is rape in this first bit. Normally, I wouldn't write a scene like that, only mention it and skip over it, but I felt it needed to be written in this particular fic. It's not overly graphic, because I personally could never ever bring myself to write something like that, but it is there nonetheless. Anyways, aside from that, this fic should be coming out regularly about once a fortnight. It's already complete, just all hand-written, so all I have to do is transfer it! Yay! So hopefully, there won't be lengthy waits! Now, on to the fic!

Chapter 1: Ruby.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

He was in trouble this time and he knew it. He'd been too greedy by far. The ruby was all he should've taken. He shouldn't have let his eyes wander.

The wiry thief berated himself this way, repeating the word "shit" as well as many other expletives under his breath as he blended with the shadows and waited for a hurrying maid, laden with bought goods, to pass him.

He admired her long slim legs for a moment before quickly slipping into the next patch of shadows.

The streets normally wouldn't be a safe place for a pretty-boy like himself at this time of night but the thief was unafraid, He'd lived on these streets since he was far younger than he was now and he knew his way around.

A soft curse slipped past his lips as the gold in one of his myriad pockets clinked, the sound ringing out through the silence of the streets. He stilled, ears pricked for any hint that the Guard may have heard, and breathed a soft sigh of relief after a few moments when there was none.

He continued silently on his way and didn't even notice the just-as-silent shadow tailing him. Later, he would berate himself extensively for failing to notice the telltale moonshine flash off the crossed swords badge of the Guard on the shoulder of the shadow, but for now, he didn't notice. He was too busy congratulating himself on his escape.

* * *

Wu Fei smirked to himself as he tailed the thief. Oh, but how pissed would the rest of the Guard be if – when – it was he, the hired mercenary help, who caught the elusive Shinigami!

If the need for silence hadn't been so great, Wu Fei would have snorted. The idea that it had been Death himself committing all these thieveries was superstitious nonsense and he'd known that all along. He had known it was just a particularly clever thief who knew his way throughout the city as well as a rat. And now, he would prove it and get back of the stolen goods.

He halted when Shinigami did and watched while the thief took a good – but not good enough – look around, nodded to himself, and vanished through an all-but-invisible hole in the wall.

A horse snorted and stamped its foot, making Wu Fei start slightly, then shake his head at himself for the reaction as he made his way to the thief's vanishing point and made careful use of it himself.

* * *

Shinigami settled himself down in the centre of his little den and began emptying his uncountable pockets of the items he'd stolen from the noble's well-stocked home. He sorted it all into neat categorical piles and added each small pile of items to larger piles of the same items around the walls of his little bolthole. That done, he flashed his teeth to the dark in a grin and reached into a very safe pocket over his heart.

"Oh yeah, baby…" he purred as he drew forth a ruby the size of his fist. He held it up to the meagre light and watched the reflections dancing off it. Another wide grin graced a sightless gold wolf that silently watched from a corner.

Shinigami froze when the distorted reflections in the ruby's many facets showed him an indistinct shape that was nevertheless recognisable as that of a person. He continued turning the ruby with one hand while the other made its way to his sword-hilt and curled around the familiar braided leather.

As the shape began a rush toward him, he flung the ruby to one side and leapt around and up into a crouch, lifting his sword in one movement to halt the downswing of the other blade.

"You've gotta get up earlier than that to catch the Great Shinigami unawares," he said with a grin at the flash of shock in the dark, oriental eyes.

The Chinese boy above him growled softly and drew away, giving Shinigami the chance to get his feet and lift his own sword into a defensive position matching that of his attacker.

A smirk from Shinigami and Wu Fei threw himself at the thief. It was a short exchange, each testing the other's strengths and weaknesses, trying to get into his opponent's head in order to devise a strategy to triumph over him.

"I didn't think they were in the habit of hiring children into the Guard!" This from Shinigami before he flicked his sword in an effort to distract Wu Fei and then took another swing. There was another short flurry of engagement before the swords caught again and the two fighters ended up almost nose-to-nose.

"I am not just some child. My family is very important. I work as a no-name merc sometimes…"

Shinigami snorted derisively and darted quickly away through another small bolthole.

"I know my home better than you do, merc!" His voice echoed all around Wu Fei, giving him no indication of where the thief might be.

Eerie laughter echoed through the little room as well and a soft hiss of long braid against makeshift tunnel wall was all that gave Wu Fei any hint of where the other was in the walls of his private treasure house.

"Just like a rat… Tunnels everywhere," Wu Fei snarled, eyes casting warily about the dimly lit room.

"Oh now! I take offence to that remark, merc!" Shinigami's voice right by his ear made Wu Fei jump, but when he turned, the thief had vanished again.

"Why should you take offence? That tail of yours is near enough to a rat's…"

"You pickin' on my braid?" Shinigami's voice came from above this time and the braid in question fell down to tickle Wu Fei's nose as the thief hung upside-down from another exit. "Long hair, even on men, is high fashion at the moment," and the braid was gone again before Wu Fei had the chance to grab it.

Wu Fei closed his eyes. It was no use trying to see this rat; he needed to be able to hear where he was before he reappeared again. Voice was no indication – it was loud enough to echo off all the walls, but something softer might just be what he needed…

Wu Fei concentrated hard, blocking out everything else, and he could just make out that hiss of braid and near-silent shuffle of soft-soled shoes.

When Shinigami appeared out of the wall yet again, Wu Fei was ready for him. The braided thief found a sword at his throat before he had the chance to do a thing.

"Bastard!" Shinigami hissed ineffectually as he dropped his own sword with a clatter.

"Perhaps," was all Wu Fei said in reply before forcing his captive to his feet and marching him through the town.

* * *

Shinigami's sentence was not what he would've liked. Instead of being put to death, he was put up for sale and gained a high price, due to his looks.

So began the worst couple of years of Shinigami's life…

* * *

Shinigami's first master wasn't really all that bad. He was an ailing old man. Shinigami was treated fairly well by him. He was fed three square meals a day, given time to himself and a little room of his own. In return, he did a lot of work around the man's house, polishing, cleaning, sweeping and other such duties. He was also frequently sent to the market to buy food and such.

Even his clothes weren't overly terrible… In fact, they were downright comfortable. While they weren't his preferred all-black attire, they were usually dark colours, which set off his eyes rather nicely. He'd had a gold chain weaved into his braid before he was captured, but that had been taken from him, which pissed him off no end, because he'd had to have it custom-made to get enough length and that had cost him more than he wanted to remember.

Shinigami sighed as he flopped onto his back on his little bed. Habitually, he slipped two fingers between the thin metal collar about his neck. It would have to be the worst thing about his slavery. It was made of a shining, reflective metal of some sort that couldn't be easily missed, so everyone knew he was a slave. The metal was always cold and never warmed, even though it rested constantly against the heat of his skin. Though it was only about a quarter of an inch thick, he was constantly aware of its cold press. He'd been warned when it was first put on him that it was imbued with a magic of its own and would prevent his trying to escape.

It worked.

He knew because he'd tried. The thin silver metal had begun to contract, threatening to cut off first his air-supply, then his entire head. He'd turned and headed back. Though he would rather die than be a slave, he wanted a swift death rather than a slow, painful, lingering one like the collar promised. He'd also tried, on numerous occasions, to give himself that swift death, but found the collar's magic made him lose complete control of his body. He'd go completely limp for a few moments, dropping whatever implement with which he was making the effort to do away with himself.

Another sigh and his fingers fell from the collar.

Before he drifted off to sleep, he made the same promise he'd made to himself every night since his capture.

"I will kill you, merc, if it's the last thing I ever do!"

* * *

Inevitably, the elderly man died and Shinigami was sold to a wealthy, younger woman. He knew from the moment he saw her; she wanted him for her own pleasure. She hid it well from her father. He thought Shinigami was simply a body servant.

Every night she would pester Shinigami and every night, he refused to bed her. It wasn't that she was horribly ugly – in fact, she was quite a looker and under any other circumstance, he would take the first chance he got to give her a lay she'd never forget. It was just that he didn't want to sleep with her as servant to a master… or… well… mistress, really.

He did everything else she asked of him and she was a little reluctant to send him on, but she was getting frustrated.

"You understand, Shinigami, dear. It's just that I need someone who'll give me absolutely everything…"

He'd nodded silently, glad to be escaping her, and had been sold on at great profit.

* * *

His next master was mercilessly cruel. Shinigami would just have to accidentally brush his hand with the end of his braid or something equally as minor, and he would receive a beating for it. His master would take any excuse to punish him, and secretly, Shinigami thought he took some sort of perverse pleasure in it.

Many, many times the thief was driven tantalizingly close to death, but his master was skilled at inflicting the greatest amount of pain he could without sending Shinigami on to the next world.

Over and over Shinigami would lie in bed after a particularly bad beating and cry. He'd cry in pain, loss, and fear of the next beating. Mostly, however, he cried in frustration that he was still alive. He was utterly disgusted at himself for the tears, but he couldn't stop them. There was nothing he could do.

It was more than a relief when this master sold him in order to buy himself a live-in whore.

What he didn't know was that his newest master would be the worst nine months of his life.

* * *

For the first few days, it wasn't bad at all. It was just like being back with his first master. He had a room, food, clothes and a bed and ran down the market a lot as well as doing duties around the house. This continued until he was healed from his beatings and his master would ask him every day how he was feeling.

Duo was thankful he was in this place and he hoped to be here for a while. He prayed a prayer to that effect one night just before he went to sleep, a satisfied smile on his lips. If he had to be a slave, better to have a decent master.

The smile was wiped off the very next morning.

Duo awoke and made his way to the kitchen as usual where he found his master waiting for him. This wasn't anything different. He'd often entered the kitchen to find his master already there.

He gave a small bow, as was proper, then swept into the kitchen and began cooking.

"How are you this morning, Shinigami?" his master asked softly, watching his back closely as he moved about the kitchen.

"I'm pretty good! Totally healed!" Shinigami replied, throwing a huge grin over his shoulder.

"Good…" There was a strange purring edge to his master's voice, and Shinigami assumed he'd been drinking the night before. He sighed wistfully. It'd been a long time since he'd had a drink.

It came as an utter shock, then, when an arm wrapped around his waist and another hand began forcing his pants down.

"What-" was all he managed before the hand around his waist shot up to cover his mouth and pull his head back against a burly shoulder.

His master wasn't small by any standards and Shinigami's underfed, small state meant he could do nothing to stop this. His pants were ripped off and his mouth was released.

"Master, please-"

"Silence!" his master snapped and forced him roughly down to bend over the table he'd been working at. A meaty hand twisted in his braid and just about wrapped around his skull pushed his face into the splintered wood. It hurt.

"Master!"

"I said, shut up!" the rough voice he'd never known his master possessed snarled as he shoved Shinigami's face harder against the table.

Shinigami gritted his teeth. He'd seen this happen on the streets and he knew what came next.

A hard, thick arousal pressed against him, then his world burst into searing, burning pain. He threw his head back and screamed. His face was forced back down again, but he barely registered the myriad little cuts and splinters he gained from the rough surface now. All he could feel, see, hear, smell, taste, was the enormous pain. Pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before as his once-kind master ripped him apart.

He cried, screamed, whimpered, begged, sobbed, but it didn't stop and he was sure he'd have to endure this tearing pain forever and ever.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, his master had spent himself and pulled away from Shinigami, ignoring the smears of blood he left behind. He dragged the thief to his feet by his braid and gave him a shove in the direction of the house's bathing room.

Shinigami tripped over his pants and his master chortled, then forced him back up again, watching like a hawk as he redressed himself and drifted off in shocked silence.

"Clean yourself up. We've company tonight and I want you fit to be seen."

When Shinigami returned, walking somewhat painfully, and with the cuts on his face cleaned up, it was as though nothing had happened. His master smiled at him and gently requested that he go down to the market when he'd finished with breakfast.

Shinigami could only nod silently and do as he was told, hoping against hope that it had been only a once off.

It hadn't been.

Every few weeks, after he had fully recovered from the last, it would happen again. If he thought he'd been badly off when he was being beaten, it was nothing compared to this.

He considered seriously just running until the collar killed him, but he couldn't work up the courage to go through with it.

Shinigami was certain he was going to have to deal with this for the rest of his admittedly short life.

One night as he lay in bed after a particularly brutal rape, he swore over again that he would kill that mercenary. He would.

~ ~ ~

Author's notes: You like that? You want more? You think it sucks? Tell me. I can't better if I don't know what's bad. So if anything's bad, tell me. If you can't find anything bad, tell me that too. Who doesn't need an ego boost every so often? ~_^