G is For Grim

It was in the next few days after the funeral that Rick realized just how grim their situation truly was.

Each one would start off with Rick prying Carlos out of bed and coaxing the younger teen to eat something before he began pouring over that day's newspaper, flipping through it to the obituaries first where he circled the pictures of the young people who he knew bladed (or had bladed at one point) on the streets.

The first day he'd done this Rick had gently tried to convince him that there wouldn't be anyone dead.

Carlos had wound up circling five that day.

Next he went through the rest of the paper, circling any events such as large charity donations or corporation take overs. Those were then further researched via the internet and in most cases confirmed to be perpetrated by the known aliases Biovolt used when they couldn't do something publicly.

Lists were then made and then sent to Kai, who then did something with them (apparently Rick's vocabulary wasn't as good as he'd thought, especially when his boyfriend and Kai had started talking all technically and shit) that put them one step closer to getting Biovolt's number.

The rest of the day was typically spent patrolling, checking in with other street-bladers and listening to all the different rumors. Rick particularly hated this part of the day because fuck, there was nothing that crushed his dreams of this being one big nightmare more than some young, tired-looking teenager telling him and his boyfriend how many other no-name street kids had died that the papers had missed.

It was just all so fucking horrifying. Watching these kids skulk around with hoods up and shattered eyes and blades loaded with intent to harm because they were all so fucking scared that they were going to be shot.

It begged the question just why wasn't something being done to help them? Hadn't the most recent politician voted into office sworn to do something about the number of kids on the streets? Why the fuck wasn't it working?

When he'd asked Carlos that his younger lover had just looked at him just red-rimmed coffee brown eyes that seemed to ask him: "were you ever really a street-blader?"

That look and his boyfriend's grim smile were all he really needed for an answer.

H is For Heated

It had taken another month before they'd been able to really start doing anything. Apparently Biovolt was being extra crafty this time around, doing all they could from murder to bribery to keep their tracks covered.

They should know after all, what with all the funerals they'd been attending lately.

That was why when Carlos had come running to him, his near-black eyes glowing for the first time in weeks, he'd known that the trail they'd been carefully watching had finally started to warm up.

And, as the younger blader sealed their lips together, he'd thought that maybe it wasn't just Biovolt's trail that had started to get heated.

I is For Implication

Rick tossed the media rag behind him with utter carelessness, almost unable to believe what the reporters had come up with to explain his recent disappearance from the New York blading scene.

Conflict between the BBA and PPB? That he'd gone to Africa on some kind of soul-searching mission? The hell? Were these people high when they came up with this shit?

The only one that had come even close to being truthful was the one stating he was in England with some mystery girl taking a 'Vacation of Love', as the headline had said.

Feh; try in Japan, attempting to stop an evil corporation intent on killing/corrupting his boyfriend and several other bladers from the shadows.

Not exactly a dream vacation, if you caught his drift.

But then, he thought as he watched Carlos drill a group of ten other bladers on how to use their beyblades in such a way as to protect themselves, if he had it his way all the rest of the world would have was their bloody implications.

J is For Jolt

It had been a distorting jolt to his system when he'd picked up Carlos's forgotten cellphone after it had rung shrilly for the eleventh time that hour only to have one Kai Hiwatari start yelling at him about picking up the stupid thing so that the people who cared about him didn't worry themselves to death.

The only thing worse than picking up the phone to Kai's screaming had been the deathly silence from the other line when he'd informed Kai that he wasn't Carlos.

From there Kai had questioned him; you know, the standard 'where, when, what, how' that everyone looking for someone asks before telling Rick not to worry and hanging up.

It had only been when he'd had the dial tone ringing in his ear that he'd realized that Kai didn't know where Carlos was either.

Carlos never came home that night.

K is For Kiss

Their last kiss hadn't been anything special, Rick speculated one night a couple days after Carlos was officially confirmed missing; glass bear bottle in hand.

They'd been standing in the living room of Carlos's little apartment at about nine the morning he'd disappeared; Carlos had just finished his grim ritual with the newspaper (he'd circled three that morning; two boys and a girl. The boys were Abbey and the girl, while street, had probably just gotten in the way, Carlos had said) and was just about to head out to do his rounds of lower Beycity.

Rick had stopped him before he'd left and dragged him in for one last long, sweet kiss before the younger blader had laughingly shoved him off, saying that if he didn't get going soon then he wouldn't be back before dark.

As it turned out, he wouldn't be coming back before dark regardless.

And now Rick regretted that he hadn't pleaded for just one more kiss.

L is For Loss

One week after the disappearance of Carlos Rick had opened the door to find Kai standing before him. The other blader had been dressed in nondescript, baggy clothes with a hood pulled up to cover his face which, with the aid of copious amounts of cover-up, was for once free of his tattoos. His eyes were still dark burgundy but the hoody helped to hide them just as much as it did his slate hair.

Honestly, the only reason Rick had even recognized him was because he'd been informed by another street blader about his impending visit.

That was the only way anyone seemed to communicate anymore; via messenger. Ever since Carlos disappeared paranoia had skyrocketed to such a point that no one trusted phones, email or other traceable means to talk, even if Kai had enough encryptions on everything that it would take years to un-code it all.

Without another word Rick stepped aside, letting the shorter teen in.

It wasn't long before Kai started speaking, short and to the point as always.

He started off by saying that Carlos wasn't dead and that if he was they (and likely everyone else; Kai was sure that if Carlos had been killed it would have been a rather public affair) would have heard about it. But, the younger teen had stated, voice dead; that didn't mean he should expect Carlos back. Biovolt was too cruel for that, he said. If they found Carlos, he would probably be twisted so badly that death might be a mercy.

It didn't take long for Rick to get sick of Kai's voice.

"Why are you telling me this?" Rick's voice was rough and his hands were fisted and anyone with half a brain could tell that he was all of two steps away from throwing the other blader up against the wall and strangling him.

"Because someone has too," Kai answered softly, "Because this is real Rick, and we might all die." Kai's eyes flashed a brighter shade of red as he regarded the older blader. "You have to be ready for that."

"Yeah?" Risk asked. "And what makes you think I'm going to have anything more to do with this shit?"

Because between emptying all those bear bottles and losing himself in the memories of his and Carlos's whirlwind romance; that had been his main question. Should he stay in Beycity and see this thing through or leave and go back to New York? Leave this ratty little apartment where he's had some of his best memories and go back to his big, empty high-rise? If Carlos was there to see him leave, would he be able to withstand the ravenette's disappointed stare?

If he stayed here, would he ever see Carlos again?

Kai just looked at him in this kind of sad, knowing way and headed for the door. Once there he quarter-turned so he was somewhat facing Rick before stating quietly: "Because you've already tasted loss and now that you have, you won't let yourself leave until you've made them bleed for making you."

And Rick didn't chase after him when he left or yell things at his retreating back because, deep down, he knew Kai was right.

He'd lost someone who'd changed him and loved him and made him remember what it was like to live and to blade without all the cameras and ratings and crap. He'd lost the person who, for the first time in ages, made life fun again for him.

And he wouldn't give up until he's avenged that loss and made Biovolt pay for it.

Heyo, everybody! Here's chapter two! A bit of a depressing one, isn't it? Sorry about that… Anyway, next chapter's going to be the climax of this thing and then it's just falling action and conclusion; shouldn't be too long until it's done, all things considered.

It'd sure be nice to get a Review…

Anyway, later.

Sincerely,

BlackRoseGirl666