This takes place a couple of years after Wolf's Cry.
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.
The Storm
Thunder rumbled as lightning split the sky. Torrential rains cascaded down, pounding onto every viable surface. Winds howled viciously, causing even the strongest tree to double over.
The storm outside raged much like the storm inside of him.
Jessy gripped him tighter as another wave rolled through him. He was temporarily lost to her. The memories and pain gripped him tight and was tearing him apart. She could do nothing but crush him to her and beg him to come back.
The storm continued.
"Let me save you," she pleaded. "Come back to me."
He whimpered as the terror continued to rip him limb from limb. He rocked back and forth, unable to distinguish reality from the horrors inside.
The rain kept pounding.
Tears poured down her face as she rocked with him. Her Tala, so strong, so indestructible. This was hell. He was burning from the inside out and all she could do was watch. As another wave crashed over him, she pulled him even tighter. But he wouldn't feel it. It wouldn't bring him back. He wouldn't come back.
Lightning crackled across the black sky.
These thoughts tore at her until she was rendered completely immobile, trapped in a hell of her own making. She should be strong right now. She should protect him, like he had always protected her. The thought of losing him paralyzed her. It brought her to the edge of self destruction. That was her one fear. She would rather go back to the Abbey, back to Boris, and all of the torture that that would entail, if it meant she would never lose him. If it meant he could be happy and pain free. She would take it all from him. She desperately wanted to.
Thunder roared and boomed.
He started quieting down, whimpering slightly. After what felt like centuries, his arms wrapped around her waist tightly. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was responding. Somehow, he knew she was there. That was the first sign.
The wind screamed in agony.
He buried his face in her neck and breathed in her sweet scent. It soothed him in a way nothing else could. As the nightmare loosened its hold, he clung to her. She pulled him out of it, bit by bit. He could feel her pulse in her throat. It beat so strong and steady beneath his damp cheek. He counted the beats until he felt his own pulse slow down.
As the thunderstorm raged on outside, wreaking havoc on the world, his storm finally abated.