I decided to write another chapter before updating my other fics for all the nice people who reviewed throws cookies to nice reviewers Remember, reviews make me happy and when I'm happy I update. :P  Oh, and someone reviewed saying they wished there was no romance in this story… I think you may have misunderstood something, because this story is non-yaoi. And there has been no mention of romance so far, nor will there ever be.

Acceptance

By EpitomeOfMisery

Chapter III: Hurt in more ways than one

Garland stopped outside the Blitzkrieg boys' hotel room door. His hand rose to the wood and knocked softly.

He waited. No answer.

He knocked again. Waited. Still no answer.

The others had left, but Tala had not been with them. But maybe he had gone ahead.

Garland walked away, deciding to drag out his revenge.

On the other side of the door, Tala fell back against the wall. He had a bad feeling, which told him not to open the door. He knew it was Garland, something within told him.

He sighed, walking back into the room and lying down on his bed, soon drifting into a troubled sleep.

Garland opened the door to the research room of the new BBA building. He had some serious researching to do.

He frowned at the few cautious looks sent his way, but ignored them and sat at the computer. He typed in the name 'Boris Balkov.'

Several pages came up about BEGA and his own team, but there were a few others, newspaper reports from Russia.

As he continued to search, he soon discovered why Boris had such a bad reputation. But in a way, he could see what had possessed the man. The over-whelming power. It was how he felt when he was pushing Tala around. The sheer thrill was enough to make you continue and have no regrets.

Everyone thought of Boris as sick and twisted, but Garland saw him in a different light, the man was powerful and had great leadership skills, he had so much control. Garland saw him as a revolutionary leader who had the power to change the world.

But Garland wasn't interested in controlling the world, only one certain red haired Russian.

The infamous sick smirk came to his features as he came across something that would help him a lot.

All he had to do now was find his target.

Tala bolted upright, gasping.

Another nightmare, just another dream. He told himself, brushing his hair back.

The room was still empty as the others weren't back. He sighed, he wished there was someone there to keep him company. He knew he should have gone with them.

Slipping off the bed, he stepped up to the mirror, examining the bruises around his neck. They were a reminder that Garland meant what he said. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't avoid him forever. Maybe just long enough to get some of his strength back to fight him.

But the blader had been under Boris' command, who knew what he had been taught to do. Garland was almost like Boris in another form.

He thought back to his wretched past, the memories that haunted his sleep and tormented him. He didn't want to remember, but he couldn't forget.

There was always some reminder, somewhere in his life.

He grabbed his blade and launcher, though he knew he wasn't supposed to get into anything to energetic, like Beyblading. He opened the door, leaving the room. But as he turned to walk down the corridor, he was shoved back against the door.

Blue eyes stared into his with a psychotic gleam, that sick smirk forever lining his features.

"What do you want from me?" Tala growled out, staying still as he knew resisting was futile.

"You know what I want. For you to fix what is your fault. Set my reputation straight, or else!" Garland hissed, his gaze fixed on Tala's petrified expression. His smirk grew wider.

"I've told you. It's not my fault!"

Garland just looked at him with an intimidating expression for a moment. "Oh, but Tala, I think you'll find it is. And I don't think you want to risk finding out what I can do to you. What's the matter, am I getting to you, cyborg?"

Tala's eyes widened as the most horrid memories of his childhood flashed back at him. "What did you call me?" He said, voice barely a whisper.

Garland released him. "Oh nothing. Just a little name for those different from human kind." His gaze locked on Tala, as if looking into his soul and picking out the weak points.

Tala's hands closed into fists. "I am human." He hissed. His expression was wary and fear shone in his eyes.

"Were human. I must say, I do find Boris' experiments fascinating. Who knew such a flawless plan could go so wrong to produce something so… pathetic."

"You're sick." Tala whispered. "You have the same manipulating and horribly scheming mind as Boris." True fear showed on his face, his expression looked as if he was living a nightmare. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing. I act out of my own will." Garland said casually. "I do however believe he did a lot to you. Tell me, what is it like to not have feelings? To be a machine?"

"I can feel. You're the one with no compassion. Why are you doing this to me? What kind of sick satisfaction do you get from beating up someone you already put in the hospital? Do you feel no remorse? No guilt?" He felt his heart thumping in his chest as his pulse raced. It was like he was standing before Boris, with no way out.

"Why should I feel guilty?" Garland asked innocently, stepping forward on the cream carpet. He stood close to Tala, his breath blowing the two strands of hair that hung over his face, above the bandage around his forehead. "You're only getting what you deserve."

"I haven't done anything!" Tala cried in desperation, wishing he could be somewhere else, anywhere else.

"Oh but you have and you know you have. And you know what to do to fix it. And you're going to do it for me, aren't you, cyborg?"

"I'm human. I'm not the person Boris tried to force me into!" Tala couldn't tear his gaze away from the eyes that stared into his, making him feel vulnerable inside. "I'm not like him."

"But he made you." Garland drawled.

Tala shook his head slowly. "No, no, I have my own life. I'm a human being, not some machine Boris created. I was born, not made!"

"Whatever you say." Garland said in a sarcastic, mocking tone. He stepped back, making some space between himself and the Russian. He turned to walk down the hall. "Oh and Tala. You have twenty-four hours. If things aren't changed by then, I think we'll have to have another one of these lovely little chats. But… To discuss some different matters." With that he walked away, not looking back.

Tala stood frozen in fear, slowly his hand moved behind him and grabbed the door handle. He twisted it and spun around, diving back into the room and slamming the door the second he passed over the threshold.

He was shaking in fear. His mind was running in so many different directions. He couldn't focus on anything. He was too confused. He didn't know what to do. What could he do?

Nothing. He was helpless.

But as long as he was in here, it was safe. There was a lock on the door and Garland didn't have a key. The only way he could get in was if Tala let him in and he wouldn't do that.

He made a vow to himself. He would ignore any opportunity to leave and stay in their team's room, no matter what. He would stay in the only place that was safe.

He'd rather live in isolation than face his past again.