Disclaimer: I don't own.
A/N: Okay, first off, I am a horrible liar. I said I was done writing Beyblade stories, but I've come to the conclusion it isn't going to happen. This is a prequel to my story Oh the Humanity. I hope you enjoy
Sarcasmcat
Bryan zipped his coat up and adjusted his bag before continuing his trek up the hill. This is fucking ridiculous. You'd think after holding me prisoner for two years the BBA would have paid to send me away.
After the World Championship the BBA had taken custody of the Demolition boys on the condition (negotiated by Kai) that they be released on their eighteenth birthday and that they not be held responsible for Biovolt's actions. Dickenson had agreed and so the Russians had spent the last two years as wards of the BBA.
A month earlier Tala had turned eighteen and returned to Moscow to help Kai clean up the mess Biovolt had become. Three weeks ago Bryan had gotten out of bed hours before dawn, packed up his meager belongings which consisted of several changes of clothes and Falborg in a duffle bag before walking out of the BBA with only the money he had managed to save from his stipend. Only enough for three days of food if he's careful about how he spends it.
At first he'd simply left the BBA office in London with no real idea of where to go, just knowing he had to get away from their rules and Ian's pleading eyes. He'd always been the one to save Ian from the others before the boy had learned to take care of himself and as they'd gotten older the hero worship had changed and before he knew it Ian had been begging him to stay. As the youngest Demolition Boy he still had a year to spend with the BBA and was terrified of having to remain behind alone.
Bryan, as much as he considered the younger boy a friend couldn't stay behind. He would simply have to rely on Spencer to stay with Ian until his freedom came. In his mind the BBA was no better than Biovolt. They simply didn't use pain to control their bladers.
After three days of wandering through the streets of London he'd decided to head back to Russia, where he knew he would at least have a place to stay. Back at the Abbey before Kai had disappeared the three of them had been extremely close and even after Kai's defection to the Bladebreakers their bond had remained strong. As he crossed into France he'd finally admitted (out loud) his true reason for going to Russia.
Kai.
While he hadn't been as close to the slate haired blader as Tala was they were still good friends. It had taken him years to realize that what he felt for Kai had moved beyond just platonic feelings. In fact, in a way it had been Rei who had made him realize he was in love with Kai.
The neko-jin, after the World Championship, had decided to remain in London and help the BBA get the Demolition Boys settled into their new home. Oddly enough, his first day in, wrapped in bandages and slightly high on pain medication he had immediately hunted Bryan down and told the pale haired teen he didn't blame him for what had happened.
From that moment on Rei had decided they would be friends and had never let up until Bryan had grudgingly given in. He knew the neko-jin would be upset by his sudden disappearance but it couldn't be helped. London had been strangling him and leaving it behind had been his only option.
A chill wind sprung up and ripped Bryan from his thoughts as it cut through his jacket. It was late winter in Germany and while the snow was melting in the increasingly warm days the nights were still bitter cold and he was miles away from any town. He'd passed the last small collection of houses almost four hours ago and there was no sign of shelter in the distance.
Muttering in Russian he jammed his hands in the coat pockets and continued along the side of the road, sharp eyes scanning the gathering darkness for any sign of a place where he could bed down for the night.
It was nearing full darkness when he saw what appeared to be a massive building rising out of the earth with lights glowing in the windows. He easily found the road and started down it with long strides, doing the best to ignore the dropping temperatures. If he was lucky it was a farm house with a barn he could spend the night in. The owners would never know he'd been around.
As he got closer to the edifice he slowed up, gaze sweeping the surrounding landscape. The first thing one learned at the Abbey was to always be aware of your surroundings. He doubted anyone would be able to see him in the darkness but his hair served as a beacon and he would rather avoid human contact.
The gauzy clouds blocking out the moon finally drifted away from the orb and silver light washed over the building, causing Bryan's breath to catch in his throat. It was a massive castle, built on a gentle upswell of the land, its highest tower reaching up to pierce the velvet darkness of the sky. A wall surrounds the castle and he can barely make out the main gate in the darkness, its portcullis down for the evening.
Pulling the hood of his jacket up to conceal his hair he steps off the road and moves into the ditch, using the steep sides as added insurance against anyone seeing him. The bottom of the ditch is covered in a thin layer of slime and rocks and tree roots litter the bottom, making speedy travel difficult.
With one hand trailing along the side of the ditch kept walking towards the castle, searching the outer wall for signs of a way in. Most castles had postern gates in the walls and this far out in the country the chance of them being locked was slim.
When he had come even with the wall he carefully climbed out of the ditch and made his way to the wall. A dark recess down from his position caught his attention and he smirked, knowing he had found a way in.
Sure enough the small gate was unlocked and he slipped in, slowly closing the door. A small flower garden is off to the right of him and to the left; across the courtyard were two large buildings. From one of them he could just barely make out the sounds of horses shifting in their stalls. The other building appeared to be a garage, if the tail light he could just barely see through the partially open door was any indication.
Knowing there would be people in the stables taking care of the horses he headed towards the other building, a dark wraith among the shadows. He paused just inside the door, shock freezing him in place. A Rolls Royce occupied the space in front of him and the rest of the garage was filled with undoubtedly expensive European sports cars. A private residence rather than one of the castles used to appease the tourists need to see a real castle
A ladder in the corner of the garage caught his attention and he made his way to it, tossing his bag up ahead of him. It appeared the owner of the castle was simply using the loft above the garage as storage, which suited Bryan fine. It meant no one would be coming out in the middle of the night to look for anything. Moving his bag aside he rearranged the boxes and trunks to clear out a place to sleep for the night. He had even located some blankets that smelled of moth balls but the scent was a minor hindrance when it meant he was actually going to be sleeping in something resembling a bed for the first time since he had left the BBA.
Once everything was rearranged to his satisfaction he settled into his nest of blankets, the heat of the building slowly seeping into his bones. Drawing his backpack close he pulled out the last of his dwindling food supply, an apple, piece of jerky and a squished granola bar. His water bottle was nearly empty and he would need to find a place to refill it before leaving again the next morning.
After he'd eaten he curled up and pulled a down duvet up, eyes falling shut. After three weeks of travel he was exhausted. He'd been walking all most the entire way and despite his physical conditioning it was taking a toll on him. Once or twice he'd thought about wiring Tala and asking for money but his pride wouldn't allow him to take money from his friend.
He figured with another four weeks or so of travel, he would be able to get back to Russia and finally start his life over again. Drawing the blanket closer he turned his attention to the money rapidly disappearing from his wallet. There was no way he had enough money to get back to Moscow and no way to make money between here and there. He would either have to swallow his pride and get hold of Tala or liberate someone's wallet and hope they had a substantial amount of cash on them. Maybe if he got lucky they would have enough money with them that he would be able to buy a train ticket to Moscow, or at least to the border.
Of course, he would have to avoid taking from someone who wouldn't be able to afford it. While the Abbey wasn't known for teaching people morals Bryan knew what it was like to be cold and hungry. For the first five years of life he distinctly remembered how his parents had never quite had enough money to buy enough food for their three children.
Had to be someone wealthy, one who wouldn't suffer from a disappearing wallet. Wealthy….a slow smirk curled his lips. If the cars a mere ten feet below him were any indication, the owner of this castle wouldn't be hurt in any way if some of his possessions went missing. There was bound to be some thing of value in the large castle he could abscond with, old candlesticks or silverware that he could quietly dump off in a pawn shop before disappearing into the country side.
Glancing at his watch he noted that it was a little after 6:30. He set the alarm for midnight, knowing it wouldn't be safe to make his move until everyone in the castle was asleep. Logically he knew the chance of running into anyone in the massive building was almost non existent, but if had learned one thing in his years at the Abbey, it was to think about and be prepared for everything that could possibly go wrong.
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The soft chiming of his watch going off roused him and he sat up, silver eyes skimming the darkness. Throwing aside the blankets he quickly repacked his bag before dropping down into the garage. The garage was still pleasantly warm and he couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through his body as he stepped out into the chill arm, his breath puffing out in a ghostly cloud.
He stashed his bag near the gate he had originally come in before making his way to the small door by the garden. Unsurprisingly the door was unlocked and he found himself in a massive kitchen that was so clean it looked like it was never actually used. Figuring the dining room was close to the main kitchen he stepped into the hall, every sense attuned for the faintest sign of life.
Moving left he crept down the hallway, taking in the decorations. Heavy tapestries and suits of armor lined the walls, adding to the medieval feel that permeated the castle. By the time he got to the end of the hall he'd tried three doors, all of which were locked.
"Fuck this place." He whirled around and started back down the hall, feeling like he was missing something important. Just beyond the kitchen door to the right, one of the stones shifted beneath his weight with a grating sound that echoed around him, increasing in volume with each pass.
Without thinking he jumped back, only to find the floor behind him had disappeared. Before he could even think to try to halt his descent he landed hard, breath leaving his lungs in a rush. He wasn't sure how long he remained on the floor, trying to bring his breathing back to normal and ignore the uncomfortable tightness of his chest.
When breathing no longer hurt he got to his feet, eyes on the lip of the hole above him. He was tall, closer to six-four than six-three but the edge was another three feet above his head and he knew he wouldn't be getting out that way. His gaze drifted from the hole to the far wall and he couldn't stop the 'fuck' that exploded from his mouth.
Steel bars separated him from his freedom and now he was trapped in an honest to god dungeon in a German castle in the middle of the country. The owner of the castle would find him in the morning, hand him over to the authorities and he'd be forced to spend the next six months of his life in a German prison.
He sank into the corner furthest away from the door, legs drawn to his chest. The chill of the stone walls was slowly seeping through his coat but he ignored it, forehead resting against his knees. In eleven years at the Abbey he'd slept and lived in much worse places, as part of Biovolt's conditioning techniques. One night in a cold, dark dungeon would be nothing.