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The Dark Passenger	By : Lahmia Category: Beyblade > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 898 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade, nor do I make any money off of this. This is solely for entertainment of myself and my fellow fans. The lyrics used belong to Linkin Park, not me!

Chapter List
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I woke up slowly and carefully looked around. Kai was sleeping with his head on my chest and Bryan was laying behind him with an arm around his waist. Ian was sprawled out across my legs, and I had Spencer's tree-trunk of an arm around both me and Kai. Yes, Spencer's arms really are that long. Sure, it was March in Russia, and thus rather fucking cold – but us five sleeping together, dressed for winter, is too warm no matter how you look at it. I felt like I had been sleeping in a sauna, and Kai was even more wet from being squashed between me and Bry. It was good for him since he needed to stay warm, but me and Bry are the two out of the family who has the highest body temperature at any given time. The others call us the walking stoves.

Kai has always borrowed my warmth during the winter – because, contrary to popular belief and his bad ass image, Kai gets cold way too easily. He actually freezes from October to April, but Boris and Voltaire taught him never to show it. Warmth, cold, none of it was supposed to matter to us. But he suffers every winter, sleeping under double down comforters and an extra blanket, takes hot baths or showers for hours, stays as close to one of the fire places here as he possibly can. There's something wrong with his circulation, as fas as we've been told, so we do our best to help him. Ian struggles the same, but not to that insane degree, and Spencer honestly doesn't give a rat's ass about hot or cold at all. Ok, not entirely accurate. Spencer can't handle heat all too well. We went to the Bahamas for some beyblading crap, and he was sick most of the time. Sorry lot, aren't we? Well, it's called being human, and despite what many people think – we all are.

Now I was faced with the problem of getting myself out of this pile of sleeping guys without waking any of them and definitely without disturbing Kai, so that I could take a shower. But, as I realized pretty quickly when I tried to move and either Kai whimpered or Spencer muttered, I was stuck. I had to wake them all up if I was going to get out of the bed, but I was not looking forward to it. But thankfully, the gods took pity on me for once in my life, and Dr Evans showed up to see where the hell we were. Apparently, breakfast time was hours ago.

“Ah, there you all are,” he said and approached the bed. “Tala, Mr Dickinson called a few minutes ago. You need to get up and ready – the boy's parents' lawyers are coming over to speak to you. Mr Dickinson has sent for yours as well. But you need to shower and eat so you can think properly.”

A small whimper was heard next to me, and I looked down into a pair of questioning and confused ruby orbs. Obviously, Kai had heard the part about the lawyers, and I could tell that he was worried and... scared, I guess. I smiled softly at him and caressed his midnight hair.

“Don't worry, Kai,” I told him. “There's something I need to take care of, ok? The guys will look after you until I come back.”

Apparently, those were the wrong words to use, because his eyes went wide as dinner plates and filled up with panic – no doubt visions of the worst case scenarios playing out before him. He thought someone was going to take me away, and no wonder he panicked then. He refused to let go of me, even after Evans had woken the others up and they tried to convince him that it would be fine. Kai was stuck in panic mode, and clung to my shirt as tight as he could – which wasn't very, all things considered, but I couldn't bring myself to pry him off. Spencer and Bryan tried as well, but they gave up too. In the end, I had to take Kai in my arms and carry him along to the master bathroom. Evans thought it was a good idea anyway, seeing that Kai was still too weak to even sit up by himself – let alone shower on his own. He had already come to the conclusion that he had to leave it to us to help Kai with things as showers and the like, since he definitely doesn't trust anyone but us. And being showered by someone else is a very vulnerable position to be in. Trust me, I know.

But just getting to the bathroom was hard. Carrying Kai like this set off a tidal wave of flashbacks, and I had to re-live so many times I had carried him in the same way through the corridors of the Abbey, through Moscow on snowy winter nights when he had been beaten almost to death, or one of our kills had gone wrong. I don't know if you can imagine how much that hurts, when you're not even twelve years old and are faced with possibly losing the person that means more to you than your own life. I don't know if you can understand how it hurts when you have been taking very thorough anatomy classes all your life and knows exactly how bad the injuries are and how great the chances of survival are and how much time there's left to treat it before you lose the person.

I had to stop every other meter to try and clear my head. Evans saw it, and helped me through it by speaking to me the whole time, and having a hand on my shoulder. He thankfully knew better than to try and take Kai from me at that point. With the state I was in – hardly even in the same reality as him – I would probably have mistaken him for one of Boris' guards and gone in for the kill before ever letting my most important person be taken away from me. Kai was holding on to me as tightly as he could as well, and he had buried his face against my chest. Any attempts to take him would probably result in him panicking as well and attack despite his frail condition. The guys would have gotten away with it, because no matter how clouded my mind has ever been, I have never once not recognized them. I have carried everyone but Spencer like this many many times, and they have carried me. I can easily lift Spencer's weight, but since he is so much taller than me, it's hard to carry him for long. Thankfully, Spence is one tough cookie to crumble, and it takes a whole lot of shit before he goes down, so we can usually get back to safety before he collapses.

Finally, we made it into the huge master bathroom, and Evans went to prepare Kai's drinks and meds. I put Kai down in one of the divans in there. Yeah, the master bathroom in our house is huge enough to have furniture in it. We also have a sauna, a jacuzzi big enough for all of us, a regular bath tub, and a shower big enough for three. The house is as huge as it is old, so Kai had to be rather creative when he decorated it. And no, I did not get any naughty ideas when I undressed myself and him. We've shared showers and rooms since we were kids, so I already know what Kai's body looks like. Besides, I still wasn't a hundred percent sure if I was in love with him, so that never even occurred to me. And right now, all of that stuff was not even in my mind. Kai was very very sick, and that was it. I had to take care of him first of all, and any other thoughts and emotions had to come second. It was heartbreaking to see him so tired and small. He was trying to help me get him out of the damp clothing, but he could barely lift his arms, and I know he felt embarrassed about it. No one likes to be weak, and when you're raised to have no weakness of any kind, a situation like this is totally humiliating. But I got him out of it and lifted him up and got him under the water. Our shower thankfully has a built in bench to sit on – don't ask me why, I have no idea, and neither does Kai – and I put him down on it. Good thing Kai is physically unable to grow a beard, because shaving a semi-conscious person is a lot easier said than done.

It almost broke my heart when I turned off the water and a small protest came from him, followed by him starting to shudder. I wrapped him up in the largest towel I could find and after I got myself somewhat decent, I got out, and found Bry waiting outside.

“Mr D called,” he said. “They're gonna be here soon. Your lawyer, that Nichols guy, is waiting down in the library.” I nodded, and he turned to Kai. “Kai, I'm gonna help you into some clothes and then you need to eat something, ok?”

Kai tightened his grip on me, and Bry gave one of his very rare soft smiles. Yes, Bryan Kuznetsov is capable of smiling with warmth – although it doesn't happen that often. But he has a real soft spot for Kai too, seeing our precious phoenix is the youngest of the bunch and for a few months in the beginning of our stay in the Abbey, it was just the three of us. Spencer and Ian are a year older than us, so it took a while before we got to meet them, though we actually all came there the same spring. While I'm his best friend, Bry is his big brother – that's the best way I can explain it. I pity the person who hurts Kai, because Bryan will go in for the kill immediately. No one touches his little brother and lives, simple as that. He reached out a hand and ruffled Kai's wet hair.

“C'mon Kai,” he said again. “You'll get worse if you stay in that towel, and Evans has promised that you can lie down in the tv room with us if you eat a little. Tala will be in the library, so he'll be close too. No one's gonna take him away, ok? We won't let 'em.”

Kai looked at him, and then at me. We could see that he was struggling to find strength to speak.

“W-what...happened?” he managed to whisper. “Why... is a... lawyer here?”

I knew I had to be the one explaining this to him, but there was no time right now, so I looked him the tired and glazed red orbs.

“I've screwed up pretty bad. When the meeting is over, I'll explain it to you, Kai. I promise.”

He gave us both those scared and worried puppy eyes, and when he was going to try and say something again, Bry put his finger across his lips.

“It'll be ok, Blue. C'mon, Tal needs to get ready. He can't meet with lawyers in a towel, ya know.”

When Bry calls Kai 'Blue', Kai always gives in. No one but Bry calls him that, and it dates back right to when we came to the Abbey. It took a while before Kai would speak even a word, so we had no idea what his name was. They never told us. Bry just called him Blue. I didn't really call him anything besides 'malen'kii drug', which means 'little friend' in Russian.

And, of course, Kai looked like a sad kitten, but allowed me to hand him over to Bryan. It was obvious that he didn't like having to be away from me in this kind of situation. Had he been well, he would have been sitting right next to me, with his herd of lawyers and that death glare only he can conjure. And now he couldn't. He told me later that it was really hard on him not being able to help me out then. But, I have a great lawyer as it is, and it was Kai who hired him. Andrew Nichols is one of the world's toughest lawyers, and he has followed us since we left the Abbey. He knows all about us, and he's got my back all the way.

I made sure to get dressed appropriately for the meeting, and got in a pair of jeans and a short sleeved black shirt. I try not to wear that world famous outfit too much – even though it's my favourite – because it attracts a lot of attention. People know that the combination of burning red horns and white and orange with a little blue means that the big bad wolf and lead evil Russian psycho,Tala Ivanov is coming their way. I get more negative than positive reactions to it – it's the same for my family. And I think it would be wrong for this situation, so I avoided it. Mr Nichols was waiting for me in the library, just as Bryan told me.

“Ah, hello, Tala,” he said and shook my hand. “We've got half an hour before the others get here. They got stuck in traffic.”

“Thank God,” I sighed. “I need to talk this through with someone before I come face to face with the kid's parents.”

He nodded and pointed to the armchair next to his. We both sat down, and he looked through the papers he had with him.

“Ok,” he said. “So, the victim, Andrei Nikolaevich, age fifteen, is currently in comatose.”

I could feel all colour fade from my face. He was just fifteen. And suddenly I had a name on him instead of just 'the kid'. Andrei Nikolaevich. Fifteen years old. I wanted to die. I wanted to get up on the highway and be run over.

“Tala,” Mr Nichols said and shook my shoulder. Apparently I had spaced out. “I need to know how much of it you remember. I have the results from the blood tests done on you. You had a BAC of almost two point six per mille.” He looked at me with some sort of stern compassion. “Tala, we need to face a fact here.” I knew what was coming, and I didn't like it. I didn't wanna have to think about it. “You are an alcoholic.”

“Please don't say that...” I don't think I managed more than a whisper.

“I have been aware of this for a long time. You have a drinking problem, and you have had it for as long as I've known you.”

I couldn't help it, I broke down again. He held his hand on my shoulder and handed me some tissues. If my lawyer, whom I saw about once a month, could see that I drank as much as I did – how many others had? BBA-people? Reporters? Other bladers? The last one scared me. I've been a jerk to most, but I actually like many of them. The thought of the other teams seeing that I was drunk, or talked about me and my drinking, was excruciating. I've worked so hard on the image of myself as the guy who has no weakness, who never breaks, who's always in control of himself and every situation, who's the incarnation of self discipline. Saying I was ashamed of myself doesn't even begin to cut it. Somehow I managed to pull myself together enough to at least form coherent words, though the pain was unbearable.

“What are we gonna do, then?” I asked him. “What the hell can I do to atone for this?”

“Well, they have pressed charges against you for aggravated assault and drunk driving, and they demand two millions in compensation for damages. They are willing to settle for four, but they do want you behind bars.”

“Four millions in dollars or roubles?”

“Roubles.”

On my bank account at the time, I had a sum of fifteen million dollars, plus some extra in various savings and funds, so four million in roubles was no problem. I would gladly give more than that. Now, I don't think you can make up for something like what I did with money, but if it was what they wanted, then I would give it to them. I looked at Mr Nichols.

“Give it to them,” I said. “I will pay for his medical care, his rehabilitation and anything else he needs.”

“Are you sure, Tala? It's a lot of money.”

“No, not in comparison to their suffering.”

“Very well,” he said. “Then we've got a strategy for that. I'm gonna do my best to keep you out of prison. If it's one thing you don't need to experience again, that's the one. I know the Abbey was not a prison in that sense, but it was still the same. You didn't have freedom, and you were there against you will and under threat. The things you suffered in there were monstrous, and I don't want you to have to be behind any bars again.”

“Thank you.”

An hour later, the family arrived. Spencer let them in, and the first thing that happened when they came into the library where me and Nichols were sitting was that his mother went straight for my throat. Her lawyers stopped her, but the things she called me are best to not repeat. Angry Russian women are not to be underestimated. After she calmed down some, we all sat down around one of the small work tables there. The lawyers introduced themselves and the parents, and Nichols did the same.

“Well, let's get to it, then,” he said.

“I want that monster behind bars!” the mother shouted. “I know what kind of evil being that man is!”

I sighed and was just about to speak when my lawyer put his hand on my shoulder in a discrete gesture to shut me up. Then he looked at the people across the table.

“I will not let my client spend a single night behind any bars, ma'am,” he said. “Mr Ivanov has been through more pain and suffering in his life than I think you can possibly comprehend.”

“How dare you!” she yelled. “How dare you say that to me! I almost lost my child! I almost lost my precious Andrei because of that... that beast!”

“I dare to say that, ma'am, because it's true. Mr Ivanov knows all too well what it is like to lose a person you love. He has lost person after person since he was just a child. Now, Mr Ivanov will not deny his guilt. He admits to having a severe drinking problem – which he has had since his early teens. There is nothing he can do to undo what he has done, but he will do what he can to help you now.”

“The demand is four millions,” one of their lawyers said. “Then we will drop the assault charges. The drunk driving charge still stands.”

“Good. Because I strongly deprecate that charge. Mr Ivanov had no intentions of causing harm to another person. He is trying to leave all such actions behind him. He willingly admits to have driven under the influence of alcohol, and will not object to those charges. Now, he has agreed to pay the four millions, and added another two. He will also pay for both the medical care and everything necessary for your son's rehabilitation. His license has already been revoked, as I am sure you know. It will be two years before he can apply for a new one.”

“What are you doing?” his father asked. “We want him in jail! He must pay for what he has done to my son! You're letting him off because he's famous, aren't you? Has he bribed you to drop these charges?”

“I resent that,” Nichols said, rather coldly. “Mr Ivanov would not do any such thing, and neither would I. This is what we can offer. Six million roubles in damages and all medical care and anything else needed for his recovery paid for. You can, of course take this to court, but I would strongly advise against that – and I think your lawyers here would agree.”

“I strongly advise you to agree to the settlement,” one of the men said to them. “Going to court with this will be a mess, and it will not solve anything, I'm afraid. Mr Ivanov is admitting his guilt and he's offering more than your demand.”

“Why would we let him off so easily?” the woman said very coldly. “What does he know about this pain? What it feels like to see your child laying in a hospital bed with needles all over his arms, in a coma he might not wake up from?”

She was in a state of shock and anger, and hell, I don't blame her. But right at that moment, when she spoke those words, I just wanted to scream. I wanted to rip my clothes off and show her every little scar on my body, every damage done to me by 'holy men'. Nichols saw me clench my jaws, and sighed.

“Tala, calm down,” he said, and then turned back to the others. “I understand your anger right now, ma'am, but you must try to think clearly. Do you not know what went on in the Abbey? What was done to my client and his family?”

“I don't believe in rumours.”

“Oh how I wish they were rumours,” he said. “Mr Ivanov and the other four young men living in this house were subjects to biological and bio-mechanical experiments. They were subjected to torture on a regular basis. They witnessed a total of one hundred and forty-seven children die, and had to hear of the death of six hundred and ninety-eight more. There has been several occasions where their lives has been hanging by a thread. My client has been in a coma himself, for almost three months following a brutal and long lasting torture causing him to still suffer horrible migraines, lack of tactility in many places on his body, aching joints causing him to almost unable to move during certain weather conditions. Apart from that he still suffers from panic attacks, flash backs, nightmares and a severe difficulty being around unfamiliar people.”

It felt fucking horrible to hear straight out how fucked up I really was. I felt so small, weak and pathetic at that moment, I just wanted to shrink through the floor or shoot myself. And I felt bad to have to play the 'horrible past'-card. But at the same time, I know Mr Nichols was right. If I had to spend another night behind bars against my will – I would break. And right now, Kai needed me. My family needed me to straighten up and get a freaking grip on myself so I could live a normal life with them again. Going to prison was not an option. Sounds selfish? Well, re-live my life and then bitch with me. I felt, and still feel more guilt than I can handle at once for what I did to that kid. But I tried my best to make amends by helping them out with anything they could possibly need. I still break down every now and then when I think about it, but it's slowly getting easier to handle.

They looked at each other, obviously weighing the options against each other, and then finally his father nodded.

“We can never forgive you for the pain you've caused, Mr Ivanov,” he said. “But we will refrain from going to court with this. Maybe your guilty conscience is a way better punishment than any prison can give you. Just promise me something.”

“Anything,” I said, the first words I spoke during that meeting.

“When my son wakes up, you will ask for his forgiveness in person. I want you to take responsibility for your actions, and ask him to forgive you for ruining so much for him and us. Maybe he can find it in his heart to do it, but I wouldn't count on it. Me and my wife will never find it in our hearts. As far as I'm concerned, you are a monster that should be locked up somewhere where you would never see sunlight again.”

If he stabbed me in the gut, it would have hurt less than to hear those words and see that grown man struggling against tears. I did much the same, really. I felt like I consisted of nothing but pain. The urges were wreaking havoc in my head, and I just wanted to drown myself in whatever alcoholic fluid I could find – and fast. And preferably never get sober again. Hopefully die from alcohol poisoning.

They left after that, and Mr Nichols did the same shortly afterwards to deal with all the paperwork needed to pay the damages and fix everything else. I sat there for a good half an hour after he left, trying to gather energy enough to stand up. Somehow, I did that, and headed for my room. I forgot all about everything around me and walked like a zombie through the rooms and up the stairs. I managed to get to my room, but I collapsed right on the floor with one of the worst panic attacks I had ever experienced. The guilt and self loathing, the hatred towards myself, all the images and memories resurfacing from Mr Nichols telling them about my past, all the faces I've seen filled with fear and knowledge that they were going to die – it all came crashing down on me, and then everything went black.
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The Dark Passenger