It's Okay, My Love

by AddUsernameHere

The Demolition Boys scared him. One of them tried to kill his brother, another was a scary egomaniac, the third was weirdly quiet, and the fourth member... had constantly been on his mind. When Kevin hears a young boy crying, it's an instinct to help. And the face behind the cries leaves him with that beautiful boy in his arms. IanXKevin, self harm, mentions of abuse. One-shot.

HELLO WONDERFUL WORLD OF FANFICTION HOW BE THEE

Uh sudden IanXKevin inspiration. Kiiinda deressing. Although also kind of cute too.

I LIVE ON THIS PAIRING

IAN IS MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER

AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA

Warnings: self harm, mentions of abuse, swearing

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade sob

I didn't see it coming. I was just walking along and minding my own business. Softly humming to myself and listening to my footsteps echoing around the silent corridor, occasionally blowing my hair out of my face, frowning in confusion at all the maps decorating the walls. Maps of how to get around the place I presume; the building is massive. Not that they'd be any use to me, no matter how lost I am. Yay dyslexia. You son of a bitch.

It's almost pitch black and I can barely see where I'm going. The soft glow of the moon and stars provides a slight guide, but other than that I may as well have my eyes closed. I'm not scared of the dark though, it's okay, I just hope I can find the room my team are staying in before it gets any colder.

My mind starts to wonder, thinking about everything that's happened recently. The Russian tournament. That dickhead putting Ray in hospital. Tyson's battle with Tala, captain and egomaniac of the terrifying Demolition Boys. Sure has been a crazy week.

Hopefully we'd never have to face them again. Psychopathic and sadistic, they weren't people you'd ever want to mess with, people you'd want to avoid at all costs.

Although rumour has it that it wasn't their fault. That their coach Boris Balkov fucked their heads up and made them that way- they didn't have a choice. And in the end it didn't even work, Tala still had emotions and Bryan apparently acted like a normal human being as soon as Boris was arrested.

I guess I feel sorry for them, no-one ever deserves to be put through what they did. But he hurt my brother.

The other two members weren't so bad, Spencer displayed multiple emotions and didn't try to kill anyone. He was kind of quiet and kept to himself. And, even if he was eight foot tall, appeared sort of... calm. Almost gentle.

Finally, the person that kept crossing my mind this past week. I didn't tell anyone about these little daydreams (because, frankly, it was extremely embarrassing) and they confused me.

The first thing I noticed was his height. Short like me, only slightly taller. He wore brown and green clothes and indigo hair hung in a ponytail, tickling his elbows, a pair of goggles sat above his fringe. Blood red eyes and the pale Russian skin all this team possessed. A slightly bigger than normal nose and a mischievous smile. He was kinda cute.

Cute?

Did I just say cute.

Yeah.

I just said cute.

Why did I say cute?

God, Kevin. Get your shit together.

A sudden sound brought me back to my senses. My muscles tensed on instinct: years of training in the mountains taught me that you have to be ready for anything. This sound, whatever it may be, could be a threat.

But it wasn't a threat.

As my footsteps brought me nearer to the source, I identified what it was.

The sound of... crying.

My heart quickened and hands clenched into fists, a frown crept on my face. Who was this? Why were they crying? Where were they?

And then I stopped. Because I was standing by a door. And on the other side of that door was the sound of crying, louder than ever, but still almost silent. Whoever was letting those heartbreaking tears fall sat in that room. I had to see who it was.

If I was a second later, the clouds would have passed the moon, and the white pearls' light would have illuminated the door. If I was a second later, I would have glanced upwards to see the door plaque, see what it said.

If I was a second later, I would have seen the words 'Demolition Boys' carved into that piece of metal. And I wouldn't have entered.

The room was cold and goose pimples decorated my bare arms. The door creaked as I pushed it open, the heavy oak groaning in pain. It was a lot lighter inside; a bedside lamp made everything visible.

Made the figure of a little boy curled up on the floor visible.

A shiver ran through me, and it wasn't because of the cold.

I ran to him and crouched down beside him, wondering who he was, if he needed help. It was like a motherly instinct kicked in: to confort this little boy.

A little boy who was wearing green and brown clothes.

A little boy who had the pale skin of a Russian.

A little boy who's indigo hair hung loose.

A boy who's bare arms were stained with red.

"Ian!" Without thinking I hooked an arm underneath his stomach and pulled him upright, making him lean against me. He gasped and tensed at my touch, scared and confused with a look of pain in those beautiful crimson eyes.

"I... No! Get off!"

He struggled, trying to get free. Fresh tears crept down his cheeks as he pushed away from me and whimpered. It broke my heart.

"Hey, no. It's okay Ian. It's okay." I held him closer than ever. Being careful not to touch his arm I pulled the jacket that I had tied around my waist off, willing to use it as a bandage. It made me smile slightly when I wrapped it around his cuts and he relaxed into me.

"You... your jacket..." he sniffed and used his spare arm to wipe tears away. He was shaking.

"It's okay. It doesn't matter, my jacket doesn't matter. But you do. What happened?" My voice cracked halfway through my sentence. This hurt me. To see him like this, broken and crying... it really fucking hurt me.

"I... I'm hurt. I was hurt. Balkov. He hurt me, he hurt my team. Don't like him." Stuttering slightly, he continued wiping his eyes as he talked. He continued talking, telling me everything. How he was abused for years. Drugged. Turned into an emotionless soldier. And now, the sudden onslaught of emotions was too much.

I listened. I stayed with him all night. Stroking his hair and whispering comforts into his ear, until he finally fell asleep. He felt so small in my arms

"It's okay. It's going to be okay."

I kissed his head and closed my eyes, falling to sleep with him. In the morning we would wake up, he would bathe and wash the blood away, he would get better. His team would find out, they wouldn't judge him, they would understand. I would stay by his side the entire time.

And everything would be okay.

Lel you are welcome for happy rainbow fic

POOR IAN

MY BABY NEEDS MORE LOVE

Please R&R :D