I wrote this after I wrote the chapter in "Wolf's Cry" where Tala shows Jessy how he sees her. It briefly goes into one night, much like this one, where he takes care of her after one of Boris' attacks. Originally, when writing this chapter, I wanted to go more into detail with Tala's perceptions of those nights. So I wrote a little side story. Please read and review! I consider this supplementary to the actual story-line but I can't find a place to put it right now. I may add it later.

Disclaiimer: I do not own Beyblade. Only Jessy.

Nightmare

Footsteps in the hallway. Her eyes snapped open, instantly awake. Please, no, she begged. Not tonight. The footsteps stopped in front of her door. Slowly, the knob turned. Dear God, no. She tensed up, pushing herself as far away as she could get, up against the wall.

Go away! She shouted silently. He loomed in the doorway. A scream bubbled up her throat but died at her lips, before making a sound. Screaming was pointless. Nobody would hear and he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied and she lay broken and limp beneath him.

He walked slowly, menacingly, to her bedside. Lightning fast, he reached out and struck her face. He grabbed her by her long dark hair. And so it began.

The nightmare that haunted her everyday life. She could handle the incessant training, experiments, beatings. But this… This broke her down more effectively than anything else.

When he was finished, he threw her to the floor. Kicking her in the ribs he muttered, "Next time, don't scream."

He walked away, leaving her naked, broken, and utterly alone.

Down the hallway, blue eyes snapped open. Something was not right. Shit! He thought to himself. I left her alone! Shit! He bolted out of bed, grabbed some clothes from his dresser, and snuck out of his room.

The evil man's footsteps faded away down the corridor. Silently, Tala moved down the hallway until he reached Jessy's door. He hesitated. Please, no, he silently begged.

He opened the door slowly, so it wouldn't make a noise. Whimpering. The thud of the dresser drawer.

"Jessy," he whispered, closing the door behind him. He didn't turn on the light. He knew what he would see if he did.

He already could see too much, his eyes used to the darkness of the Abbey. She lay crumpled in front of her dresser. Her eyes sprang open in terror at the dark figure looming at the edge of her room. She whimpered once more and tried to make herself small.

"Hey, hey," he said softly. "It's me. I won't hurt you."

At his soft words, tears pricked her eyes. She let them fall. He padded over to her and knelt down. He helped her dress in the clothes he had brought. The baggy T-shirt went down to her knees and the sweatpants dangled over her feet, but this was good. It made her feel safe. Hidden.

Tala lifted her up in his arms. He would not let her stay here tonight.

Silently, he made his way back down the hallway, holding her close. They got back to his room and he, once again, kept the light off.

He set her down gently in his bed and crawled in next to her, shielding her from the door. She curled into a ball and he wrapped himself around her, trying to warm her up, provide some modicum of comfort.

He hated this. He hated what that bastard did to her. His Jessy, usually so strong, a force to be reckoned with during the day, reduced to this broken, sub-human, wreck at night. His grip tightened around her as he felt the familiar rage course through him.

He had tried to stop it. Boris had thrown him into the dungeons for a month. And during that month, Jessy had gotten the worst treatment ever. And he couldn't help her.

So instead, almost every night, he lay awake, waiting for the footsteps to come and go. Hating himself for not being able to stop this. Then he would go to her. Bring her back to the relative safety of his room. Stay awake most of the night, protecting her while she felt her weakest. Sometimes, she would fall into a fitful sleep. Other times, she would lay there and hum softly, rocking. Sometimes they talked, but lately, they didn't need to.

Once she had rested for a couple hours, he would carry her down to the showers. Depending on how bad it was, he would sometimes have to help her wash. He always brushed her hair once they were back in his room. She found the motion soothing to her ragged nerves.

Then, exhausted, she would finally fall asleep in his arms. He would sleep, too. Barely. He always had one half of his mind tuned to the outside world. Just in case. Morning would come much too quickly, so she needed to be back in her room before anyone noticed she was missing.

Boris knew that Tala helped her. With all of his cameras, it was impossible to keep this hidden. But as long as Tala didn't try to interfere again, he didn't give a shit about what they did after.

Tonight, Jessy slept in Tala's arms peacefully for about a half an hour or so. Then, the nightmares took hold. It started out as a whimper, and then shaking. He held her close, whispered her name. He knew she was reliving the tortuous existence that she couldn't escape from. He tried to shake her awake, but she was delving deeper and he couldn't stop it. When the whimpers changed to moans of pain, he tried again. She pushed him away as the screams pierced his heart.

"Jessy!" he cried out. He reached out to grasp her shoulders. "Wake up! Come on, come back to me! Come on, Jessy!"

Finally, her dark brown, almost black eyes, opened. They were wide with fear. It destroyed him to see her so…vulnerable. She was only thirteen and he, fifteen. They had already seen and experienced enough to age them beyond their years. But at these moments, it became apparent how young she really was. And how broken.

She buried her face in his chest and breathed in his clean, masculine scent. She had tried to pinpoint his smell; somewhere around winter and something else she couldn't decipher. That was home. Tala. Safe. He stroked her hair as she slowly relaxed beside him.

"What would I do without you?" she whispered.

"You'll never have to know," he reassured her.