Hello everyone! I've finally got the first few chapters of Wolf's Cry Part II all typed up and ready to go! I hope you all enjoy. This takes place after G-Revolution.
Please review! I want to know what you guys think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade. Only Jessy and Draiza.

Chapter 1

I awake to the smell of coffee and pancakes. Even though my door is closed, the apartment is small and the walls paper thin. It's a far cry from the Russian apartment, that's for sure.

I sigh, momentarily lost in the past. When I can't take it anymore, I sit up. I'm already frustrated at myself, and the day has just begun.

I pad out to the kitchen in my bare feet and nod a hello at the gray-haired blader cooking breakfast. He nods back as he flips a pancake. I only come up to the middle of his back, so there's plenty of room for me to slip behind him in the small kitchen and help myself to some coffee. He reaches over and grabs the milk out of the fridge for me.

Once my coffee is perfect, I perch on one of the stools at the counter, which serves as a table. I push aside the stack of mail that waits patiently to be picked through and grab the morning newspaper.

By the time I finish the first section, breakfast is ready. A heaping plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon is set in front of me. I raise my eyebrows, surprised at the amount.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how many meals you've missed," Garland chastises me. "You're going to eat every bite of that."

I stare at him coldly, but it doesn't have much of an effect on him.

"You can bitch and moan all you want," he says casually. "You're not leaving this table until you eat."

I roll my eyes, frustrated once again, and resign myself to my fate.

How did I get to have such a pain-in-the-ass roommate? I ask myself silently. As I go over the memories in my head, suddenly I'm not so frustrated with his pseudo-big-brother act.

It's been six months since I found myself waking up in Garland's spare bedroom. Seven months since I left Russia.

I couldn't take the boys' guilt anymore. The boys' futile attempts to fill the silence that I could never break. Tala and I could communicate, but he was always worried about me. I was shipped from doctor to doctor, all of them reached the same conclusion: there was nothing physically wrong with me; I would speak when I was ready to. I tried telling him that I just needed time. That I just needed a little patience. I tried telling all of them that the words simply wouldn't come. That whenever I tried to speak, my demons would rear their ugly heads and grip my throat so tight I could barely breathe, let alone form words. I wrote it down for them, but it didn't seem to make a difference. They worried about me.

I had almost broken through the demons' chokehold at one point. And then Boris happened. Again. He came back into the public eye with BEGA. Just before seeing Boris on the television, I was preparing myself to say my first words, like a child who had learned to speak. And then his face appeared and the demons regained their hold over me.

I flew to Japan with my newly-named Blitzkrieg Boys. While they stormed into BEGA's headquarters, I froze at the door. I couldn't make myself go in. Ian stayed with me and walked with me back to the hotel. The pity in his eyes was too much to handle. I stayed in Japan with them, all the way until the end. When Garland put Tala in the hospital, I was next to him all day, every day. I just held his hand quietly. I told him fairytales in the only way I could. He said that those stories were the only things that kept him going.

When we returned to Moscow, I tried so hard to speak again. And the guys' pitiful looks only increased. After two full months of no progress, I couldn't take it anymore. I know Tala tried. He had better access to my mind than anybody else. And I know he tried. I hate myself for leaving him like that. Nothing but a note saying I needed to figure this out for myself.

I left them. I left my family.

The guys who had always looked out for me, protected me whenever they could. I owed my life to them on more than one occasion. They saved me. And I couldn't carry the crushing guilt any longer. I was not getting better. And they had suffered enough.

I flew back to Japan on a midnight flight.

I tried staying at Tyson's, but his constant need to fill the silence was overwhelming. Tyson is a nice guy, and we'll always be friends, but he never seemed to fully grasp the concept that I don't talk back. He would ask a question and then wait expectantly for an answer. I would just stare at the floor hopelessly until he stumbled on. After two weeks, I left.

I slept on a bench down by the harbor, where I used to train with the Bladebreakers so long ago. During the day I'd wander around Tokyo. Sometimes I'd visit local shops and try out the free samples. I had spent all of my money on the plane ticket, so the free samples were the only meals I had. I tried resorting to the trash cans, but I couldn't make myself eat what was clearly not for human consumption any longer. So I went without.

After two weeks of this, Garland found me. It was the middle of the night and pouring down rain. I had nowhere to hide, so I just sat on the bench and let the rain cleanse me. It was a little cold, but nothing compared to a Russian winter, so it didn't bother me.

"Are you lost?" I heard a familiar voice yell from a few feet away.

I turned to face him and recognized him from his televised battles a few months earlier. I shook my head.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, stepping closer.

I stood up quickly, preparing to defend myself.

He held up both hands in surrender.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he told me. "I just want to help."

I eyed him coldly.

"Do you have anywhere to go? A safe place?"

After a few seconds of wary eye contact, I shook my head.

He studied the pouring rain around us carefully for a brief moment.

"Come on," he held out his hand to me. "Come back to my apartment. I promise I won't hurt you. I'll give you some dry clothes, maybe some food, and a warm place to sleep tonight. You can leave again in the morning."

I stayed where I was. He didn't know who I was. How could he? I never made myself known when he was a part of BEGA. He couldn't know that I was connected with Tala.

"Come on!" he pleaded. "I have a spare bedroom and I'll leave you completely alone if you want. Just let me help you!"

Why would this stranger want to help me?

After a century had passed, I finally moved towards him. I didn't take his outstretched hand, I simply walked past him. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I turned to give him an inquiring look.

He hesitated a moment, as if to make sure that I was actually going to go with him. I inclined my head slightly. One night, I vowed. One night with a warm meal and a safe, dry bed.

"Jessy, you're not eating," his voice startled me back into the present. "You've been staring off into space for a few minutes. Everything alright?"

His steel-gray eyes question me worriedly.

I shrug, then nod, and continue eating my breakfast. He hesitates before taking another bite.

"I'm going to the gym in a little while. Want to come with?" he asks.

I nod again, not looking up from my plate. A question pops into my head. I grab the notepad and pen that is meant for me.

What kind of workout? I write.

He tugs the notepad over to him with a quick flick of his wrist.

He grins as he responds, "Kickboxing, for me. But you're welcome to do what you please."

I nod again and continue eating. When I've finished as much of my food as I possibly can, I look at Garland again. He eyes my half-eaten plate and smirks in approval. He takes my plate from me and puts the scraps in a bowl, along with the bacon grease. When we leave, he'll leave the bowl in the back alley downstairs for the stray cats that like to scavenge there. He always makes sure to leave them something in the morning.

"I'll finish up the dishes if you want to shower first," he suggests kindly.

I give him a half-smile as we both rise from our stools. Out of everyone, he's the only one who doesn't seem bothered by the fact that I don't talk. He just observes me for whatever reaction and if it's something he can't just observe, he'll hand me a notepad and pen. He's got them stashed all over the small apartment and I know he carries one in his back pocket, as well.

Having Garland for a roommate isn't so bad. The bad part is the surmounting guilt I feel by being here. He injured Tala, so badly he had to be hospitalized. He still doesn't know that I am (was) close with Tala, but I know. And I also know that if Tala knew where I was staying, he would not be pleased. I try to brush that thought to the side because for whatever reason, being here is helping. The guilt I feel for being here and leaving the guys behind is nothing compared to the crushing guilt I felt as I constantly let them down, day after day. For whatever reason, being here is helping. And I just hope that when I finally see Tala again, he'll understand.