Title: Resurfacing
Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: R
Summary: see chapter one
Warnings: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of its characters. Any and all unknown characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intention to entertain.
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His eyelids felt heavy, as did his mind. A thick fog hung suspended over his thoughts for many minutes until the mist cleared and he could hear voices speaking from somewhere above him. They were familiar and comforting as they called out to him.
"Kai? Come on, lad. Are you awake?"
"Mr Dickenson?"
His eyelids protested but he opened them anyway against their will to stare up into their team manager's face. Why was he lying down to begin with anyway?
"It is okay, Kai. We are not going to touch you," the elder spoke as if he was trying to calm a frightened animal, his hands held up in a gesture of peace.
Kai felt the fog returning but this time he was successful to avoid it. Moving he noticed that he was laying on a bed, the soft mattress sinking as he placed pressure on it.
What the heck was going on? What had happened? Had he been in an accident? Why couldn't he remember the recent events?
"How are you feeling?"
He looked up to see Bruce come into the bedroom carrying a cup of tea on a small dish which he placed on the nightstand beside him.
"What going on?" he asked, ignoring the first question.
"We were wishing that you could tell us."
"I don't know what you are talking about." He turned to the elderly man/ "I said I was sorry about Tyson's eye."
"Don't try to change the subject, Kai."
"What subject?!" This was getting really old, really fast.
The two older males didn't say anything but looked pointedly at him, their eyes held sympathy and anger, the former directed towards him, the latter to some unlucky being who had somehow managed to spurn anger in the normally cheerful men.
Unable to keep their gazes, he looked down and it was then that he realised that his top was missing, leaving him bare-chested.
The dark bruises that had been taking forever to heal were now of a blackish colour and the bandage he had wrapped around his waist less than a week ago had been changed and he felt the sting of fresh antiseptic fluids that had been rubbed to clean the wound to his stomach. His neck too was left unprotected, displaying the scratch-marks and 'love-bite' prominently.
His shameful secret that he had been hiding ever since their first trip to the Abbey was now in the open and he felt the panic and humiliation start to rise in his chest. Unconsciously, his arms folded over his chest to cover himself but the damage had already been revealed. He refused to look the adults in the eyes as he spoke.
"Boris had me beaten when I returned to the Abbey," he said, trying to sound indifferent.
"Kai, do not lie about this. We know what happened."
"Nothing happened. He was angry because I had left so he had the guards punish me. That's it." In his mind he kept assuring himself that they were just guessing and would stop once he convinced them...or so he hoped.
"Those marks on your neck are no beatings. Someone touched you, Kai, and I know it was done against your will."
"Who gave you the right to undress me?!" He turned his back to them, shaking as he felt his resolve slipping more and more. "You had no right to do that! You had no right to pry into my personal life!"
"You're right, but we do not regret it."
He heard Mr Dickenson rise from the chair he had been sitting in by the window and slowly come to stand nearer. He stiffened and took a step away, arms tightening more as they cradled himself.
"What happened to you in the Abbey, Kai?"
"Nothing."
"Then why are you injured?"
"It's none of your business."
His breathing hitched as the awful memories returned; Boris cornering him in the locker room and slamming him up against the walls before...
"Just leave me alone!" Human emotions are incapable of being controlled and a sob came involuntarily from him. "Leave me alone..."
The teen's back was still turned to both adults who shared a concerned look.
Mr Dickenson knew he had to tread this terrain carefully; Kai was one who protected his privacy with fiercely but now the defences were slipping and this could be their only chance to reach out to him.
"Why do you always want people to leave you alone, Kai?"
"Because then no one is there to hurt me. No one can touch me..."
"I know you must think that--"
"How would you know?!" he spat venomously. "You don't know what it's like! You don't know what it's like being afraid to walk through those dark halls alone knowing that one of the guards can simply drag you off to some side- room and do what he wants to you! You never held your best friend in your arms while he cried after spending 5 hours in Boris' personal chambers! You can never understand how it felt like to be only five years old and be raped by your own grandfather! You don't know anything!"
With every sentence, every word, every letter that came out of the bluenette's mouth, the adults could picture these chilling events and it stunned them beyond comprehension. Was there really such a horrid place nestled in this country? In this city?
Mr Dickenson watched the young blader with fatherly eyes. He was the only one who knew that Kai had been handed over to his grandfather at a very young age after his parents' 'mysterious' deaths. To think that Voltaire had Kai under his lusty eyes and hands for so long was sickening. And to afterwards be brought under Boris' care...
Risking the boy's wrath, he stepped to stand behind Kai and taking the bruised shoulders gently he turned the teen around to face him. Kai immediately stiffened at the contact and tried to pull away but he didn't relinquish the hold. The bluenette was still unwilling to meet his eyes so he reached out he gently took hold of the chin and lifted the painted face.
The red eyes shone bright with unspent tears. Soft sobs tried to make their way out however he held them back; not wanting to appear weaker then he had already allowed himself. The slender body trembled as another sob escaped, louder this time.
"Oh, Kai..."
The man drew his young charge into an embrace and rubbed the boy's back in a fatherly manner, trying to sooth the distraught youth. He felt arms wrap around him and he allowed the teen to cry out all his fears and pain. Casting a look at Bruce he could see the emotions flashing through the built man's eyes.
Being a father himself, Bruce loved kids and cherished them, be they 2 or 20. His relationship with Tyson was the most precious thing he owned and he was outraged that a man would allow others to hurt his own grandson like this, much less be the one doing the most damage himself.
For many minutes he let out all his grief which he had been holding in for many days, months, even years. He rested his head on the elder man's shoulder, his tears sliding down his face, turning blue as they ran over his face-paint, and seeping into the collar of the man's costly business suit.
He remembered, a very long time ago, being held like this by his mother whenever he was upset. A sudden pull on his heart came as he could still remember her face and voice.
She was gone.
They were gone.
They had left him all alone at Voltaire and Boris' mercy.
When the sobs finally subsided Kai pulled back slightly, ashamed of his behaviour.
"I'm sorry, Mr Dickenson."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Kai," the elder soothed as he pulled out a hanker chief for him to wipe his face clean of the blue streaks.
"I lied to you. I've been lying all these years. And because of it I couldn't control my temper and I hit one of my own team mates..."
"I understand, Kai. And it isn't your fault."
"It is! That's what *he* always says..."
As he said those words he recalled the horrible night many years ago with his grandfather that had started the nightmare that has haunted him all this time...
*~*~*~begin flashback~*~*~*
The door to his room opened and the six year old turned over in his bed, thinking it to be one of his grandfather's many servants coming to put away his clothes or something.
Instead of a man or woman in uniform, however, there stood his grandfather's imposing, broad figure that almost filled the entire doorway.
"Grandpa?"
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he raised himself onto his elbows, but before he could get up the grey haired man slammed and locked the door. Taking long strides, he neared the bed, removing his coat and shirt as he walked.
The smaller male backed off in apprehension.
"Grandpa? What's wrong?"
His question was ignored and he felt an unexplainable stab of fear as he watched the elder male. Something wasn't right here and he had to get as far away from this man as possible.
Scrambling to kick the sheets off his feet he almost made it off the bed when a broad hand grabbed his ankles and yanked him backwards. Soon the hand was joined by its partner and both moved up, pass his calf, his knees, his tights and coming to rest on his hips, thumbs rubbing the skin through the pants' fabric.
That suddenly changed when the fingers tightened and ripped the material away. Slipping in between the now bare legs the hands parted them, allowing the man to sink in between them.
"Grand--hmpf!!"
A broad hand covered his mouth, silencing his questions. Only able to stare up with wide eyes, he felt the other hand run familiar patterns over his exposed flesh.
"So soft... So tender..."
It wasn't the first time this had happened but his grandfather had never touched him this intimate before, running his hands deeply between his legs and his buttocks, groping them almost hungrily.
"I waited for so long to do this... Too long..."
The hand on his mouth was removed as the elder Hiwatari sat up, still pinning the boy on the bed, and began to remove his belt and undo his pants' button.
"Are you a good boy, Kai?" he asked huskily, drinking in the sight and feel of his only living relative beneath him.
"Y-yes, grandfather," he answered, unsure what this was all about.
"You would never do any to make me angry at you, would you?" He slipped his pants down, freeing his desire.
"N-No, g-g-grandfather."
"Then I need you to be very quiet for me. Can you do that, Kai?"
"Yes, grandfather."
"That's my boy..." he trailed off and began to kiss the smooth cheeks softly, running his tongue over the sweet skin before pulling away to turn the child over onto his stomach.
"Are you cold?" he asked when a violent shiver ran through the small body. Pulling the bluenette flush against his body, he nipped at an earlobe before whispering, "I'll make you warm again."
This was wrong. So wrong. His grandfather had touched him before, had taken off his clothes before, but to feel the older man's nakedness pressing against him was making him feel very uncomfortable.
Discomfort would be soon proven to be the mildest of his problems.
"Mine...You're mine. After waiting so long I finally have you..."
Positioning himself, he wrapped both arms tightly around the boy's frame, ignoring the gasps for air as he squeezed the small chest too hard.
"It took me a lot to get you. No one else will ever have you. Not ever."
"Gr-Grand *gasp* Grandfa--"
"Hush, my boy. You are mine. Mine...Mine!!"
He scream of pleasure was overruled by Kai's shriek of pain as he was impaled by his own grandfather, his already tainted innocence completely destroyed by the violent entrance that tore the soft skin and drew blood.
Growling, Voltaire grabbed the child's head and twisted it painfully to meet his eyes.
"I...Uh...Said...Unh...Be...Unh...Quiet!!"
Smashing his mouth against the child's, he drove his tongue in, gagging the screams as he plundered the struggling body beneath him.
The pain. The pain was so bad. He couldn't take it. He couldn't! The burn was killing him and the thrusts tore skin every time. But he couldn't escape. No matter what, his grandfather was too big and too strong, trapping him beneath him, smothering him.
'Mama...Papa...help me!'
*~*~*~end flashback~*~*~*
"I think it would be best if you take a seat, Kai."
The boy allowed the man to lead him back to the bed and sat down. A shadow fell over him and a hand offered him a blanket. Daring to look up he met Bruce's stare and with a small nod of gratitude he wrapped it around him, effectively hiding the state of his body from view. Again the hand came before his vision but this time it handed him the cup of tea Bruce had brought in earlier.
Taking a tentative sip from the steaming liquid he said in a small voice, "Please don't tell the other."
"The both of us already agreed that we wouldn't. But this can't go on any longer, Kai. We must alert the authorities."
Now that his secret was out that suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea.
"But..."
"I know that this is very hard for you, but you must do this. Think of all the others who weren't as fortunate as you to escape the Abbey and are still in there. Think of Tala."
That was all he needed to change his mind. Fuck whatever people would think of him! He could not leave his friend like that.
"Okay, but give me till tomorrow night."
"Why tomorrow?" Bruce questioned, his cell already out as he had been in the process of dialling the police.
"Tomorrow night is the ceremony. I have to alert Tala and the others to be on their guards. If you call the police now you risk that Boris will find out before they even reach the Abbey. That man would do *anything* to keep himself out of trouble with the law. The police would probably arrive to find all the kids dead, no witnesses left to use against Boris and Boris would have been long gone by then. So please, wait until the ceremony tomorrow night."
"Alright then. We will wait. Now I suggest you get some more rest. It will be another few hours before its morning and we have a lot of planning to do," Bruce nodded.
"Kai, I know how hard this must be for you, but I need you to answer a few questions for me," Mr Dickenson said, eyeing the phoenix for any sign of another fright attack. "Will you answer them?"
Putting down the cup before he dropped it, he swallowed hard but nodded, though silently.
"How long has this been going on? For you?"
Shame painted a red shading over his cheeks and he was tempted to not reply but he owed that much to the manager to help out as much as he could.
"Voltaire...took me when I was five, but...he had touched me before that."
"When was the last time he touched you?"
"A couple of days before I rejoined the Bladebreakers."
This was hard for the bluenette and Mr Dickenson hated to do this to the already hurt teen but he needed information if he was going to convince the authorities.
"And Boris?"
"Not so much as Voltaire. When...when I was first brought to the Abbey and while training there he would make me come to his bedroom a few times and...h- he would touch me during training...and kiss me. But Voltaire had...'claim' over me first."
"And the other children? Where they also...?"
"Everyday. Mostly by the guards. But I don't know any personally; everyone kept quiet about it or they would get punished even worse."
"Have any of the Demolition Boys ever been..." he decided to might as well say it, "raped?"
Kai visibly flinched at the word.
"Ian and Spencer haven't, not that I know of. They've been touched a few times but never...that."
When the boy felt silent both men knew that the other two bladers had not been so fortunate. Kai's words proved them correct as he finally spoke.
"One time Bryan was called to the labs for some unexplained reason. Alone. He came back very soon, far too soon if he had to have done any experiments. He wouldn't tell us what had happened but we knew. The way he walked and the way he refused to let anyone of us touch him for weeks were more than enough."
"Tala?"
A distant cry accompanied by bleary blue eyes clouded his vision for a moment.
"That's the second reason why Boris didn't touch me so much. He...He had Tala. He still has him. He still hurts him..."
Tears began to stream and Mr Dickenson ended any other questions he may have asked; the bluenette had been through enough.
"Remain here for the night and rest. We'll see to it that things will be done." He patted the boy gently on the back and motioning to Bruce he stood to allow the boy some privacy to calm himself
"Hey..."
The two turned to where Kai still sat with the blanket around his shoulders, one hand drying the tears from his cheeks. Biting his lip nervously he glanced up.
"Thanks...for understanding."
Mr Dickenson beamed at the young lad. Without his face-paint he looked to be no older than 12 with that thick blanket engulfing him and those honest eyes, still wet from tears.
"Just remember that despite what happens in life, there is always someone there to help you through. Do not worry, young Kai. We will help Tala and the others and we will put a stop to Voltaire and Boris."
With that and a final wave the two adults left, closing the door behind them with a small *click*.
Keeping the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, Kai stood and walked over to the windows. He laid a hand on the cool pane and looked up at the many stars.
For the first time in a long time he felt a small ripple of relief and smiled softly.
"Tala, we're coming to get you."
**************
Blue eyes watched disinterestedly at the stars as they twinkled back at him through the glass windows, mocking him with the brightness and freedom. Shaking his head to get rid of these stupid thoughts he padded back to the bed, mindful of his injuries who protested at the movement.
It had been a while since he had had such mobility but with all the pain it caused just to stand he felt more restrained then when he had been chained up. His legs were weak and each step was very shaky. His left hand had regained feeling and motion but the snapped bone and nerves in his right left it stiff and aggravating. Then there were the multiple cut wounds to his chest and stomach and the whiplashes on his back.
He gingerly sat himself down on the edge of the bed, brushing a loose strand of fire-red hair out of his face. He stopped and studied the pale hand before him. Countless scratches marred the once flawless skin and the index finger was blue around the knuckle which had been twisted.
'Is there anything left of me that is unspoiled?'
The answer was heart wracking in its simplicity: No. All he ever had was now gone, his identity had been stripped and torn like his body. Like his soul.
The door opened and light poured in from behind the tall figure that stood in the entrance, a vile grin plastered on his face as he watched the thin teen who returned the look but with fear and a small sprinkle of hatred.
Closing the door but clicking on the light he rounded the bed and crouched down before the boy who now refused to meet his masked eyes. Blue eyes were fixed intently on the pale hands that rested on the teen's lap.
"Are you still angry at me from this morning?" he snickered when Tala's pale face flushed at the memory. "Don't worry. They certainly found it very amusing."
The event he was referring to had taken place earlier that day.
He had been fast asleep, exhausted as always from the previous night's assaults. A rough hand had shaken him awake and he had opened his eyes to find Boris grinning down at him. Five others were present as well, unashamedly roving with their eyes over his body.
It turned out they were all wealthy business men, each willing to pay a large sum of money for a consort to keep them entertained on their travels. He had been touched and stroked before each man had a go at him, for a small sum of 1000 dollars per man. None minded the injuries, saying they like their whores to be though.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, a greasy haired man from America placed a ridiculously high offer and Boris accepted it. The man was coming for him the next morning, giving Boris time to clean him up.
"In this age it is the coin that rules everything. If you have no money, you have no power. You know I do this only for the sake of my research."
"Liar." He closed his eyes, unable to even look at this monster.
"Oh, so you can still speak. I knew that tongue was too talented for a mute."
The sly tone made Tala clenched his hands on his lap.
"And I am not a liar. The money will be used for my research. In fact," he buried his hand in his pocket and pulled out something, "here's a little gift for being such a good boy, though you need to earn it first."
Cupping the face in his hands he pulled the teen in for a kiss, licking at the kiss-bruised lips before forcing his way into the warm mouth. Tala didn't fight back, having learned that protest was very stupid and useless. Moaning, Boris pushed the boy to lie back on the bed, ignoring when the pressure on the injured back caused Tala to cry out in the kiss.
After many minutes of licking and biting he pulled away and smiled when he saw that Tala hadn't even opened his eyes yet. The teen's breath was coming out in small pants and his body was rigid from tension and fright.
"That's my good boy. And here is your reward." He held out the object from his pocket but Tala didn't look at it, eyes squeezed shut trying to block out everything.
"Don't you want to see your old friend?"
Slowly he opened an eye to look up at whatever Boris found so important to show him.
Light sparkled off the surface of a sleek blue beyblade. In the centre an ice-blue bit beast glowed as it detected its master's presence.
"Wolborg..." Tala stared in wonder and relief.
His beyblade. The one thing that still reminded him who he was and the one thing that offered him a sense of comfort.
With a shaking hand he reached up to take it but Boris pulled it away.
"Not yet. First we must get you ready."
"R-ready? For what?"
"Why, the ceremony of course. We need to congratulate the Bladebreakers for showing you for what you really are; a weak failure; not worthy for anything but a bed warmer."
The words stung hard and he bit back a sob.
"Come on. It's going to take our staff all day to patch you up."
Boris stood and started for the door.
"I can't go."
"What?" the purple haired man growled in an irritated voice as he turned to where the teen had yet to rise/ "Don't you dare disobey me, bitch. Get over here, now!"
"Sir, please, I can't face them." The faces of his team mates came into his vision. They hadn't seen each other ever since he had been brought to Boris. He had heard nothing from them and Boris refused to tell him anything when he had asked. Were they even alive? And Kai...
"You speak as if I should care. Don't worry your pretty, little head. You won't be attending the ball inside. I am merely bringing you along for publicity though you will stay with me until the others come back out. So shut up and get up."
He grabbed a slender arm painfully tight and roughly tugged the red-head to his feet.
Tala swayed dangerously from the sudden altitude change and was forced to lean against Boris to prevent himself from falling over. The man laughed and wrapping an arm around the narrow waist he lead the way outside into the hall.
A cry of dismay the moment he stepped out of the doorway and into the corridor caught Tala's attention and he looked up to see his team mates standing right there before him.
Damnit! He hadn't thought to see them this soon. Boris didn't have the decency to even allow him to clean up before confronting them. However, giving them a look over, he could tell that the past few days hadn't been a walk in the park for them either.
Ian's head was wrapped with a soiled linen bandage and one arm was in a sling. Bryan was standing behind him but had a hand on Spencer's broad shoulder to support him since he seemed to have a very badly sprained, or more likely broken, foot. His blue shirt had a large dark stain on it from a bleeding wound now covered. Spencer supported his friend but the big guy wore a neck brace and for some reason his eyes were staring off into space.
"This certainly is a joyous reunion. Aren't you glad to see your team mates again, Tala?" He caressed one side of the teen's face but Tala's attention was solely on the three boys before him. He met eyes with Bryan who smiled if ever so slightly, relief to see his captain at least alive.
"This way, gentlemen." Boris turned and started to lead them towards whatever he had in store for them.
As they walked Tala kept looking over to the others. His feared suspicion was confirmed when he saw Ian holding Spencer's hand, leading the burly blond. Bryan too was making sure that the blond kept walking in the right direction. Spencer had been blinded by the neck injury.
Swallowing back tears, he redirected his eyes forwards as they reached a door. Boris pulled out a key and opened the rusted lock. Pushing the door open he motioned them inside. A surprisingly clean and bright room was revealed, plainly furnished with a few tables and chairs.
"Wait here until I come for you. Do not try anything or you will regret it."
The moment the door was locked from the outside and the man's footsteps retreated Ian ran over to Tala where he had taken a seat near to the door, his body too hurting to remain standing.
"Tala! We were so worried about you!" The smaller boy wrapped his arms around his friend's waist but let go immediately when Tala hissed in pain.
"Take it easy, Ian," Bryan advised from where he sat next to Spencer opposite them. His leg was definitely broken from the strange angle it was in. Turning light violet eyes to the red-head his expression softened as he took in his captain's ragged appearance. "He blamed you again, didn't he?"
Tala could only nod, fresh tears brimming as he found his voice.
"Spencer? What happened?"
"He sprained his neck pretty bad when he hit the wall the day the guards came for you," Bryan spoke up when Spencer didn't. "Slowly he started to lose his sight and in two days it was completely gone."
Looking at his bruised and hurting friends, Tala felt all the self-hatred in him triple. It had all been his fault! He had lost them the championship!
"I'm sorry, guys! I'm so sorry!" Burying his face in his palms he cried; cried for his friends, cried for himself, cried for everything.
A hand on his arm made him look down to where Ian stared up at him with sad eyes.
"Come on, Tala. You're stronger than this. Don't you remember what you used to say--"
"No!" He stood, his body shrieking from the sudden movement but he didn't care. "I don't remember what I said and even if I did I would never believe it. I underestimated my opponent and because of that you guys paid! What type of a captain am I?"
He began pacing, thought his steps were shaky. Ian paced beside him to make sure to steady him should he lose his balance.
"Stop beating yourself up, Tala."
All three turned to Spencer whose eyes were now sighted on some invisible spot on the floor.
"Stop blaming yourself. We are a team. You didn't lose the match. *We* did. We were all responsible for what happened."
Anything else was cut off as Boris opened the door. He eyed the four teens sceptically, his eyes finally settling on Tala and a smirk appeared.
"Giving your team a little pep-talk?" He started towards the red-head who backed up, eyes wide and alert. Ian stood before his friend like a small shield but he would never be able to take on Boris if it came that far.
Their director smirked as he saw Bryan to force himself to rise, ready to help his captain despite his leg. Spencer was as intimidating as ever, empty eyes able to scare off the devil himself.
But the man before them was not the devil; he was something so much worse.
"I see you have once again rallied a little fan club of your own, Tala. Your team looks ready to take me on even in their sorry state. They must really look up to you." He moved forward and extended and arm to touch Tala's face. The red-head shied away.
"Back off, bastard!" Ian moved to push the man away but Boris gave him a vicious kick to the torso, catapulting him into the wall. The small boy cried out when his broken arm hit the brick work full force, breaking the bones that had been mending.
Tala moved to help him but arms around his waist pulled him back against Boris' body. Struggling in the grip that sent sharp pain lacing through the wounds in his abdomen he tried to get to Ian who slowly sat up, cradling his arm to his body protectively.
"My, my, you sure are quick to defend this weakling, Ian. Would you have done the same if you knew how he screamed like a virgin whore each time I took him?"
Bryan stiffened at this as he saw Tala's eyes dim at the cruel words. The struggling grew less as the man's hands explored the contours of the teenage body.
"Do you know that he shakes like a leaf whenever you touch him? And when you find certain places..." He moved his hand between the boy's legs and rubbed the crotch. Tala whimpered and tried to twist away but as always it was useless. His face burned with humiliation as Boris went on to describe each and every thing he had done to him during his captivity.
Spencer could not see anything but as he listened to Boris' sick detailed experiences he balled his fists, ready to start throwing punches wildly in an attempt to hit the man. He gritted his teeth when he heard Tala whimper and took a step forward but a hand stopped him.
"Don't. He will hurt him if we move closer." Bryan knew Boris would happily do just that and so they had no choice but to stand there and listen till he ran out of tales.
Ian had been able to rise to his feet, broken arm clutched tightly against his chest. Torn between helping Tala and playing along with Boris he decided it best not to endanger the red-head so he sulked back towards where Bryan was still calming Spencer.
Tala wished to die. Plain and simple. He wanted nothing better than a gun or a knife right now to take him out of this misery and humiliation. His team was looking at him in a mixture of disbelief, sadness, sympathy...
...disgust, indifference, rejection, accusation...
His mind started to imagine these darker emotions.
They hated him. He was a weakling amongst them and had dragged them down to his poor excuse of a level.
"As much fun as I am having I fear we must get going, don't we?" Boris captured the teen's lips in a hungered kiss, holding the head still by gripping the fire-red hair painfully.
Ian swallowed back his nausea and turned pleading eyes to Bryan who simply couldn't watch. Spencer was spared the sickening sight but he could hear Boris' groans and Tala's soft cries and a lone tear streaked down from his sightless eyes.
"We have to do something," Ian said softly, though Boris had momentarily forgotten about them as he pulled Tala closer to him and slipped his tongue into the boy's mouth.
"What can we do? There's no one we can tell," Spencer pointed out, flinching when Tala cried out louder when Boris purposefully rubbed up against his injured side.
Ian lowered his eyes to his splinted arm as they fell silent and waited till the director was finished with their captain.
tbc.........
*******************
Read & Review, please.
Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: R
Summary: see chapter one
Warnings: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of its characters. Any and all unknown characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intention to entertain.
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His eyelids felt heavy, as did his mind. A thick fog hung suspended over his thoughts for many minutes until the mist cleared and he could hear voices speaking from somewhere above him. They were familiar and comforting as they called out to him.
"Kai? Come on, lad. Are you awake?"
"Mr Dickenson?"
His eyelids protested but he opened them anyway against their will to stare up into their team manager's face. Why was he lying down to begin with anyway?
"It is okay, Kai. We are not going to touch you," the elder spoke as if he was trying to calm a frightened animal, his hands held up in a gesture of peace.
Kai felt the fog returning but this time he was successful to avoid it. Moving he noticed that he was laying on a bed, the soft mattress sinking as he placed pressure on it.
What the heck was going on? What had happened? Had he been in an accident? Why couldn't he remember the recent events?
"How are you feeling?"
He looked up to see Bruce come into the bedroom carrying a cup of tea on a small dish which he placed on the nightstand beside him.
"What going on?" he asked, ignoring the first question.
"We were wishing that you could tell us."
"I don't know what you are talking about." He turned to the elderly man/ "I said I was sorry about Tyson's eye."
"Don't try to change the subject, Kai."
"What subject?!" This was getting really old, really fast.
The two older males didn't say anything but looked pointedly at him, their eyes held sympathy and anger, the former directed towards him, the latter to some unlucky being who had somehow managed to spurn anger in the normally cheerful men.
Unable to keep their gazes, he looked down and it was then that he realised that his top was missing, leaving him bare-chested.
The dark bruises that had been taking forever to heal were now of a blackish colour and the bandage he had wrapped around his waist less than a week ago had been changed and he felt the sting of fresh antiseptic fluids that had been rubbed to clean the wound to his stomach. His neck too was left unprotected, displaying the scratch-marks and 'love-bite' prominently.
His shameful secret that he had been hiding ever since their first trip to the Abbey was now in the open and he felt the panic and humiliation start to rise in his chest. Unconsciously, his arms folded over his chest to cover himself but the damage had already been revealed. He refused to look the adults in the eyes as he spoke.
"Boris had me beaten when I returned to the Abbey," he said, trying to sound indifferent.
"Kai, do not lie about this. We know what happened."
"Nothing happened. He was angry because I had left so he had the guards punish me. That's it." In his mind he kept assuring himself that they were just guessing and would stop once he convinced them...or so he hoped.
"Those marks on your neck are no beatings. Someone touched you, Kai, and I know it was done against your will."
"Who gave you the right to undress me?!" He turned his back to them, shaking as he felt his resolve slipping more and more. "You had no right to do that! You had no right to pry into my personal life!"
"You're right, but we do not regret it."
He heard Mr Dickenson rise from the chair he had been sitting in by the window and slowly come to stand nearer. He stiffened and took a step away, arms tightening more as they cradled himself.
"What happened to you in the Abbey, Kai?"
"Nothing."
"Then why are you injured?"
"It's none of your business."
His breathing hitched as the awful memories returned; Boris cornering him in the locker room and slamming him up against the walls before...
"Just leave me alone!" Human emotions are incapable of being controlled and a sob came involuntarily from him. "Leave me alone..."
The teen's back was still turned to both adults who shared a concerned look.
Mr Dickenson knew he had to tread this terrain carefully; Kai was one who protected his privacy with fiercely but now the defences were slipping and this could be their only chance to reach out to him.
"Why do you always want people to leave you alone, Kai?"
"Because then no one is there to hurt me. No one can touch me..."
"I know you must think that--"
"How would you know?!" he spat venomously. "You don't know what it's like! You don't know what it's like being afraid to walk through those dark halls alone knowing that one of the guards can simply drag you off to some side- room and do what he wants to you! You never held your best friend in your arms while he cried after spending 5 hours in Boris' personal chambers! You can never understand how it felt like to be only five years old and be raped by your own grandfather! You don't know anything!"
With every sentence, every word, every letter that came out of the bluenette's mouth, the adults could picture these chilling events and it stunned them beyond comprehension. Was there really such a horrid place nestled in this country? In this city?
Mr Dickenson watched the young blader with fatherly eyes. He was the only one who knew that Kai had been handed over to his grandfather at a very young age after his parents' 'mysterious' deaths. To think that Voltaire had Kai under his lusty eyes and hands for so long was sickening. And to afterwards be brought under Boris' care...
Risking the boy's wrath, he stepped to stand behind Kai and taking the bruised shoulders gently he turned the teen around to face him. Kai immediately stiffened at the contact and tried to pull away but he didn't relinquish the hold. The bluenette was still unwilling to meet his eyes so he reached out he gently took hold of the chin and lifted the painted face.
The red eyes shone bright with unspent tears. Soft sobs tried to make their way out however he held them back; not wanting to appear weaker then he had already allowed himself. The slender body trembled as another sob escaped, louder this time.
"Oh, Kai..."
The man drew his young charge into an embrace and rubbed the boy's back in a fatherly manner, trying to sooth the distraught youth. He felt arms wrap around him and he allowed the teen to cry out all his fears and pain. Casting a look at Bruce he could see the emotions flashing through the built man's eyes.
Being a father himself, Bruce loved kids and cherished them, be they 2 or 20. His relationship with Tyson was the most precious thing he owned and he was outraged that a man would allow others to hurt his own grandson like this, much less be the one doing the most damage himself.
For many minutes he let out all his grief which he had been holding in for many days, months, even years. He rested his head on the elder man's shoulder, his tears sliding down his face, turning blue as they ran over his face-paint, and seeping into the collar of the man's costly business suit.
He remembered, a very long time ago, being held like this by his mother whenever he was upset. A sudden pull on his heart came as he could still remember her face and voice.
She was gone.
They were gone.
They had left him all alone at Voltaire and Boris' mercy.
When the sobs finally subsided Kai pulled back slightly, ashamed of his behaviour.
"I'm sorry, Mr Dickenson."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Kai," the elder soothed as he pulled out a hanker chief for him to wipe his face clean of the blue streaks.
"I lied to you. I've been lying all these years. And because of it I couldn't control my temper and I hit one of my own team mates..."
"I understand, Kai. And it isn't your fault."
"It is! That's what *he* always says..."
As he said those words he recalled the horrible night many years ago with his grandfather that had started the nightmare that has haunted him all this time...
*~*~*~begin flashback~*~*~*
The door to his room opened and the six year old turned over in his bed, thinking it to be one of his grandfather's many servants coming to put away his clothes or something.
Instead of a man or woman in uniform, however, there stood his grandfather's imposing, broad figure that almost filled the entire doorway.
"Grandpa?"
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he raised himself onto his elbows, but before he could get up the grey haired man slammed and locked the door. Taking long strides, he neared the bed, removing his coat and shirt as he walked.
The smaller male backed off in apprehension.
"Grandpa? What's wrong?"
His question was ignored and he felt an unexplainable stab of fear as he watched the elder male. Something wasn't right here and he had to get as far away from this man as possible.
Scrambling to kick the sheets off his feet he almost made it off the bed when a broad hand grabbed his ankles and yanked him backwards. Soon the hand was joined by its partner and both moved up, pass his calf, his knees, his tights and coming to rest on his hips, thumbs rubbing the skin through the pants' fabric.
That suddenly changed when the fingers tightened and ripped the material away. Slipping in between the now bare legs the hands parted them, allowing the man to sink in between them.
"Grand--hmpf!!"
A broad hand covered his mouth, silencing his questions. Only able to stare up with wide eyes, he felt the other hand run familiar patterns over his exposed flesh.
"So soft... So tender..."
It wasn't the first time this had happened but his grandfather had never touched him this intimate before, running his hands deeply between his legs and his buttocks, groping them almost hungrily.
"I waited for so long to do this... Too long..."
The hand on his mouth was removed as the elder Hiwatari sat up, still pinning the boy on the bed, and began to remove his belt and undo his pants' button.
"Are you a good boy, Kai?" he asked huskily, drinking in the sight and feel of his only living relative beneath him.
"Y-yes, grandfather," he answered, unsure what this was all about.
"You would never do any to make me angry at you, would you?" He slipped his pants down, freeing his desire.
"N-No, g-g-grandfather."
"Then I need you to be very quiet for me. Can you do that, Kai?"
"Yes, grandfather."
"That's my boy..." he trailed off and began to kiss the smooth cheeks softly, running his tongue over the sweet skin before pulling away to turn the child over onto his stomach.
"Are you cold?" he asked when a violent shiver ran through the small body. Pulling the bluenette flush against his body, he nipped at an earlobe before whispering, "I'll make you warm again."
This was wrong. So wrong. His grandfather had touched him before, had taken off his clothes before, but to feel the older man's nakedness pressing against him was making him feel very uncomfortable.
Discomfort would be soon proven to be the mildest of his problems.
"Mine...You're mine. After waiting so long I finally have you..."
Positioning himself, he wrapped both arms tightly around the boy's frame, ignoring the gasps for air as he squeezed the small chest too hard.
"It took me a lot to get you. No one else will ever have you. Not ever."
"Gr-Grand *gasp* Grandfa--"
"Hush, my boy. You are mine. Mine...Mine!!"
He scream of pleasure was overruled by Kai's shriek of pain as he was impaled by his own grandfather, his already tainted innocence completely destroyed by the violent entrance that tore the soft skin and drew blood.
Growling, Voltaire grabbed the child's head and twisted it painfully to meet his eyes.
"I...Uh...Said...Unh...Be...Unh...Quiet!!"
Smashing his mouth against the child's, he drove his tongue in, gagging the screams as he plundered the struggling body beneath him.
The pain. The pain was so bad. He couldn't take it. He couldn't! The burn was killing him and the thrusts tore skin every time. But he couldn't escape. No matter what, his grandfather was too big and too strong, trapping him beneath him, smothering him.
'Mama...Papa...help me!'
*~*~*~end flashback~*~*~*
"I think it would be best if you take a seat, Kai."
The boy allowed the man to lead him back to the bed and sat down. A shadow fell over him and a hand offered him a blanket. Daring to look up he met Bruce's stare and with a small nod of gratitude he wrapped it around him, effectively hiding the state of his body from view. Again the hand came before his vision but this time it handed him the cup of tea Bruce had brought in earlier.
Taking a tentative sip from the steaming liquid he said in a small voice, "Please don't tell the other."
"The both of us already agreed that we wouldn't. But this can't go on any longer, Kai. We must alert the authorities."
Now that his secret was out that suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea.
"But..."
"I know that this is very hard for you, but you must do this. Think of all the others who weren't as fortunate as you to escape the Abbey and are still in there. Think of Tala."
That was all he needed to change his mind. Fuck whatever people would think of him! He could not leave his friend like that.
"Okay, but give me till tomorrow night."
"Why tomorrow?" Bruce questioned, his cell already out as he had been in the process of dialling the police.
"Tomorrow night is the ceremony. I have to alert Tala and the others to be on their guards. If you call the police now you risk that Boris will find out before they even reach the Abbey. That man would do *anything* to keep himself out of trouble with the law. The police would probably arrive to find all the kids dead, no witnesses left to use against Boris and Boris would have been long gone by then. So please, wait until the ceremony tomorrow night."
"Alright then. We will wait. Now I suggest you get some more rest. It will be another few hours before its morning and we have a lot of planning to do," Bruce nodded.
"Kai, I know how hard this must be for you, but I need you to answer a few questions for me," Mr Dickenson said, eyeing the phoenix for any sign of another fright attack. "Will you answer them?"
Putting down the cup before he dropped it, he swallowed hard but nodded, though silently.
"How long has this been going on? For you?"
Shame painted a red shading over his cheeks and he was tempted to not reply but he owed that much to the manager to help out as much as he could.
"Voltaire...took me when I was five, but...he had touched me before that."
"When was the last time he touched you?"
"A couple of days before I rejoined the Bladebreakers."
This was hard for the bluenette and Mr Dickenson hated to do this to the already hurt teen but he needed information if he was going to convince the authorities.
"And Boris?"
"Not so much as Voltaire. When...when I was first brought to the Abbey and while training there he would make me come to his bedroom a few times and...h- he would touch me during training...and kiss me. But Voltaire had...'claim' over me first."
"And the other children? Where they also...?"
"Everyday. Mostly by the guards. But I don't know any personally; everyone kept quiet about it or they would get punished even worse."
"Have any of the Demolition Boys ever been..." he decided to might as well say it, "raped?"
Kai visibly flinched at the word.
"Ian and Spencer haven't, not that I know of. They've been touched a few times but never...that."
When the boy felt silent both men knew that the other two bladers had not been so fortunate. Kai's words proved them correct as he finally spoke.
"One time Bryan was called to the labs for some unexplained reason. Alone. He came back very soon, far too soon if he had to have done any experiments. He wouldn't tell us what had happened but we knew. The way he walked and the way he refused to let anyone of us touch him for weeks were more than enough."
"Tala?"
A distant cry accompanied by bleary blue eyes clouded his vision for a moment.
"That's the second reason why Boris didn't touch me so much. He...He had Tala. He still has him. He still hurts him..."
Tears began to stream and Mr Dickenson ended any other questions he may have asked; the bluenette had been through enough.
"Remain here for the night and rest. We'll see to it that things will be done." He patted the boy gently on the back and motioning to Bruce he stood to allow the boy some privacy to calm himself
"Hey..."
The two turned to where Kai still sat with the blanket around his shoulders, one hand drying the tears from his cheeks. Biting his lip nervously he glanced up.
"Thanks...for understanding."
Mr Dickenson beamed at the young lad. Without his face-paint he looked to be no older than 12 with that thick blanket engulfing him and those honest eyes, still wet from tears.
"Just remember that despite what happens in life, there is always someone there to help you through. Do not worry, young Kai. We will help Tala and the others and we will put a stop to Voltaire and Boris."
With that and a final wave the two adults left, closing the door behind them with a small *click*.
Keeping the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, Kai stood and walked over to the windows. He laid a hand on the cool pane and looked up at the many stars.
For the first time in a long time he felt a small ripple of relief and smiled softly.
"Tala, we're coming to get you."
**************
Blue eyes watched disinterestedly at the stars as they twinkled back at him through the glass windows, mocking him with the brightness and freedom. Shaking his head to get rid of these stupid thoughts he padded back to the bed, mindful of his injuries who protested at the movement.
It had been a while since he had had such mobility but with all the pain it caused just to stand he felt more restrained then when he had been chained up. His legs were weak and each step was very shaky. His left hand had regained feeling and motion but the snapped bone and nerves in his right left it stiff and aggravating. Then there were the multiple cut wounds to his chest and stomach and the whiplashes on his back.
He gingerly sat himself down on the edge of the bed, brushing a loose strand of fire-red hair out of his face. He stopped and studied the pale hand before him. Countless scratches marred the once flawless skin and the index finger was blue around the knuckle which had been twisted.
'Is there anything left of me that is unspoiled?'
The answer was heart wracking in its simplicity: No. All he ever had was now gone, his identity had been stripped and torn like his body. Like his soul.
The door opened and light poured in from behind the tall figure that stood in the entrance, a vile grin plastered on his face as he watched the thin teen who returned the look but with fear and a small sprinkle of hatred.
Closing the door but clicking on the light he rounded the bed and crouched down before the boy who now refused to meet his masked eyes. Blue eyes were fixed intently on the pale hands that rested on the teen's lap.
"Are you still angry at me from this morning?" he snickered when Tala's pale face flushed at the memory. "Don't worry. They certainly found it very amusing."
The event he was referring to had taken place earlier that day.
He had been fast asleep, exhausted as always from the previous night's assaults. A rough hand had shaken him awake and he had opened his eyes to find Boris grinning down at him. Five others were present as well, unashamedly roving with their eyes over his body.
It turned out they were all wealthy business men, each willing to pay a large sum of money for a consort to keep them entertained on their travels. He had been touched and stroked before each man had a go at him, for a small sum of 1000 dollars per man. None minded the injuries, saying they like their whores to be though.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, a greasy haired man from America placed a ridiculously high offer and Boris accepted it. The man was coming for him the next morning, giving Boris time to clean him up.
"In this age it is the coin that rules everything. If you have no money, you have no power. You know I do this only for the sake of my research."
"Liar." He closed his eyes, unable to even look at this monster.
"Oh, so you can still speak. I knew that tongue was too talented for a mute."
The sly tone made Tala clenched his hands on his lap.
"And I am not a liar. The money will be used for my research. In fact," he buried his hand in his pocket and pulled out something, "here's a little gift for being such a good boy, though you need to earn it first."
Cupping the face in his hands he pulled the teen in for a kiss, licking at the kiss-bruised lips before forcing his way into the warm mouth. Tala didn't fight back, having learned that protest was very stupid and useless. Moaning, Boris pushed the boy to lie back on the bed, ignoring when the pressure on the injured back caused Tala to cry out in the kiss.
After many minutes of licking and biting he pulled away and smiled when he saw that Tala hadn't even opened his eyes yet. The teen's breath was coming out in small pants and his body was rigid from tension and fright.
"That's my good boy. And here is your reward." He held out the object from his pocket but Tala didn't look at it, eyes squeezed shut trying to block out everything.
"Don't you want to see your old friend?"
Slowly he opened an eye to look up at whatever Boris found so important to show him.
Light sparkled off the surface of a sleek blue beyblade. In the centre an ice-blue bit beast glowed as it detected its master's presence.
"Wolborg..." Tala stared in wonder and relief.
His beyblade. The one thing that still reminded him who he was and the one thing that offered him a sense of comfort.
With a shaking hand he reached up to take it but Boris pulled it away.
"Not yet. First we must get you ready."
"R-ready? For what?"
"Why, the ceremony of course. We need to congratulate the Bladebreakers for showing you for what you really are; a weak failure; not worthy for anything but a bed warmer."
The words stung hard and he bit back a sob.
"Come on. It's going to take our staff all day to patch you up."
Boris stood and started for the door.
"I can't go."
"What?" the purple haired man growled in an irritated voice as he turned to where the teen had yet to rise/ "Don't you dare disobey me, bitch. Get over here, now!"
"Sir, please, I can't face them." The faces of his team mates came into his vision. They hadn't seen each other ever since he had been brought to Boris. He had heard nothing from them and Boris refused to tell him anything when he had asked. Were they even alive? And Kai...
"You speak as if I should care. Don't worry your pretty, little head. You won't be attending the ball inside. I am merely bringing you along for publicity though you will stay with me until the others come back out. So shut up and get up."
He grabbed a slender arm painfully tight and roughly tugged the red-head to his feet.
Tala swayed dangerously from the sudden altitude change and was forced to lean against Boris to prevent himself from falling over. The man laughed and wrapping an arm around the narrow waist he lead the way outside into the hall.
A cry of dismay the moment he stepped out of the doorway and into the corridor caught Tala's attention and he looked up to see his team mates standing right there before him.
Damnit! He hadn't thought to see them this soon. Boris didn't have the decency to even allow him to clean up before confronting them. However, giving them a look over, he could tell that the past few days hadn't been a walk in the park for them either.
Ian's head was wrapped with a soiled linen bandage and one arm was in a sling. Bryan was standing behind him but had a hand on Spencer's broad shoulder to support him since he seemed to have a very badly sprained, or more likely broken, foot. His blue shirt had a large dark stain on it from a bleeding wound now covered. Spencer supported his friend but the big guy wore a neck brace and for some reason his eyes were staring off into space.
"This certainly is a joyous reunion. Aren't you glad to see your team mates again, Tala?" He caressed one side of the teen's face but Tala's attention was solely on the three boys before him. He met eyes with Bryan who smiled if ever so slightly, relief to see his captain at least alive.
"This way, gentlemen." Boris turned and started to lead them towards whatever he had in store for them.
As they walked Tala kept looking over to the others. His feared suspicion was confirmed when he saw Ian holding Spencer's hand, leading the burly blond. Bryan too was making sure that the blond kept walking in the right direction. Spencer had been blinded by the neck injury.
Swallowing back tears, he redirected his eyes forwards as they reached a door. Boris pulled out a key and opened the rusted lock. Pushing the door open he motioned them inside. A surprisingly clean and bright room was revealed, plainly furnished with a few tables and chairs.
"Wait here until I come for you. Do not try anything or you will regret it."
The moment the door was locked from the outside and the man's footsteps retreated Ian ran over to Tala where he had taken a seat near to the door, his body too hurting to remain standing.
"Tala! We were so worried about you!" The smaller boy wrapped his arms around his friend's waist but let go immediately when Tala hissed in pain.
"Take it easy, Ian," Bryan advised from where he sat next to Spencer opposite them. His leg was definitely broken from the strange angle it was in. Turning light violet eyes to the red-head his expression softened as he took in his captain's ragged appearance. "He blamed you again, didn't he?"
Tala could only nod, fresh tears brimming as he found his voice.
"Spencer? What happened?"
"He sprained his neck pretty bad when he hit the wall the day the guards came for you," Bryan spoke up when Spencer didn't. "Slowly he started to lose his sight and in two days it was completely gone."
Looking at his bruised and hurting friends, Tala felt all the self-hatred in him triple. It had all been his fault! He had lost them the championship!
"I'm sorry, guys! I'm so sorry!" Burying his face in his palms he cried; cried for his friends, cried for himself, cried for everything.
A hand on his arm made him look down to where Ian stared up at him with sad eyes.
"Come on, Tala. You're stronger than this. Don't you remember what you used to say--"
"No!" He stood, his body shrieking from the sudden movement but he didn't care. "I don't remember what I said and even if I did I would never believe it. I underestimated my opponent and because of that you guys paid! What type of a captain am I?"
He began pacing, thought his steps were shaky. Ian paced beside him to make sure to steady him should he lose his balance.
"Stop beating yourself up, Tala."
All three turned to Spencer whose eyes were now sighted on some invisible spot on the floor.
"Stop blaming yourself. We are a team. You didn't lose the match. *We* did. We were all responsible for what happened."
Anything else was cut off as Boris opened the door. He eyed the four teens sceptically, his eyes finally settling on Tala and a smirk appeared.
"Giving your team a little pep-talk?" He started towards the red-head who backed up, eyes wide and alert. Ian stood before his friend like a small shield but he would never be able to take on Boris if it came that far.
Their director smirked as he saw Bryan to force himself to rise, ready to help his captain despite his leg. Spencer was as intimidating as ever, empty eyes able to scare off the devil himself.
But the man before them was not the devil; he was something so much worse.
"I see you have once again rallied a little fan club of your own, Tala. Your team looks ready to take me on even in their sorry state. They must really look up to you." He moved forward and extended and arm to touch Tala's face. The red-head shied away.
"Back off, bastard!" Ian moved to push the man away but Boris gave him a vicious kick to the torso, catapulting him into the wall. The small boy cried out when his broken arm hit the brick work full force, breaking the bones that had been mending.
Tala moved to help him but arms around his waist pulled him back against Boris' body. Struggling in the grip that sent sharp pain lacing through the wounds in his abdomen he tried to get to Ian who slowly sat up, cradling his arm to his body protectively.
"My, my, you sure are quick to defend this weakling, Ian. Would you have done the same if you knew how he screamed like a virgin whore each time I took him?"
Bryan stiffened at this as he saw Tala's eyes dim at the cruel words. The struggling grew less as the man's hands explored the contours of the teenage body.
"Do you know that he shakes like a leaf whenever you touch him? And when you find certain places..." He moved his hand between the boy's legs and rubbed the crotch. Tala whimpered and tried to twist away but as always it was useless. His face burned with humiliation as Boris went on to describe each and every thing he had done to him during his captivity.
Spencer could not see anything but as he listened to Boris' sick detailed experiences he balled his fists, ready to start throwing punches wildly in an attempt to hit the man. He gritted his teeth when he heard Tala whimper and took a step forward but a hand stopped him.
"Don't. He will hurt him if we move closer." Bryan knew Boris would happily do just that and so they had no choice but to stand there and listen till he ran out of tales.
Ian had been able to rise to his feet, broken arm clutched tightly against his chest. Torn between helping Tala and playing along with Boris he decided it best not to endanger the red-head so he sulked back towards where Bryan was still calming Spencer.
Tala wished to die. Plain and simple. He wanted nothing better than a gun or a knife right now to take him out of this misery and humiliation. His team was looking at him in a mixture of disbelief, sadness, sympathy...
...disgust, indifference, rejection, accusation...
His mind started to imagine these darker emotions.
They hated him. He was a weakling amongst them and had dragged them down to his poor excuse of a level.
"As much fun as I am having I fear we must get going, don't we?" Boris captured the teen's lips in a hungered kiss, holding the head still by gripping the fire-red hair painfully.
Ian swallowed back his nausea and turned pleading eyes to Bryan who simply couldn't watch. Spencer was spared the sickening sight but he could hear Boris' groans and Tala's soft cries and a lone tear streaked down from his sightless eyes.
"We have to do something," Ian said softly, though Boris had momentarily forgotten about them as he pulled Tala closer to him and slipped his tongue into the boy's mouth.
"What can we do? There's no one we can tell," Spencer pointed out, flinching when Tala cried out louder when Boris purposefully rubbed up against his injured side.
Ian lowered his eyes to his splinted arm as they fell silent and waited till the director was finished with their captain.
tbc.........
*******************
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