Would you look at that, I'm in a writting spree!
I do not own beyblade :(
BEEP~
That sound.
BEEP~
That high pitched, annoying sound.
BEEP~
Who the fuck was making that sound?
BEEP~
Bryan did not know.
BEEP~
What he did know, however, was that if the sound didn't stop in the next immediate second, he would be forced to commit murder this early in the morning,
BEEP~
And it was not just his lack of patience already running thin either: this noise was being ten times magnified in his delicate post drunken state.
BEEP~
"For fuck's sake Bryan, turn that damn thing off, would you? It's been 15 minutes already!"
BEEP~ BEEP~ BE- CRASH!
The Falcon opened his eyes only to get immediately blinded by the light coming in from his window. He tried again and let his gaze fall upon his once functioning alarm clock which was now laying in pieces on the ground after he unceremoniously threw it against the wall.
Great. Now he'd had to buy yet another one.
He closed his eyes again and growled at his pounding headache. He got up after a few more moments, mentally preparing himself for the long day ahead and trying to stop the world from spinning.
He then noticed he was still wearing his muddy boots. Huh.
Wait, why was he still wearing the exact same clothes he had worn yesterday?
And was this blood on his shirt? Ah man, blood stains were a pain to wash off.
He shrugged ignoring the little voice in his head that told him he should at least try to remember the events from yesterday. But then again, it was not his blood on his shirt, meaning details were irrelevant.
He took a long, hot shower processing his conversation with Kai from a few hours ago. That he remembered.
Today was the day.
Today was the first step for getting his shit back together.
Surprisingly, that alone did wonders to lighten his mood, even if his headache was killing him. Although he still prayed to whichever God gave a fuck that this whole life changing epiphany of his didn't blow up in his face.
Once he finished showering, he walked to the kitchen with only his boxers on, lazily drying his hair off with a small towel joining his brothers, all of them with puffy eyes and bed hair.
Ah, Sundays. The only day in the week when it was acceptable enough to look half dead in pajamas – or underwear, in his case – at 9 in the morning.
As he made his way to the counter, he roughly ruffled Ian's hair teasingly, earning a small yelp from the smaller. "Mornin' assholes."
Kai 'Hn'd' at him shortly while taking a sip of his tea, while Spencer mumbled something along the lines of 'half naked' and 'unbelievable'.
Now, Bryan was no expert in Kai-esque language, but years of knowing him had at least taught him the basics, and right now, he was positive Kai had said 'I've got your back'.
Either that or 'I've stabbed your back', but since Bryan wasn't bleeding to death, he was positive he got it right this time.
"Oi," A voice brought him back to the present as, out of pure reflex, he caught the incoming object his captain had deliberately thrown right at his face. He glared at the accused object and then eyed the redhead confused as he recognized his own cellphone he was sure he'd lost yesterday on his drunken stupor.
"How did you…"
"Mikhail came in earlier today with your stuff," Tala took a seat and leaned his chin on his hand raising a curious eyebrow, "said you got into a fight with this new guy in town. Care to explain?"
"Ah, that explains the blood."
"Blood?" The blond snapped his head almost spilling his cup of coffee. "What blood?"
"Never mind," He shook his head and took a seat next to Kai, who handed him a small bottle of painkillers and a cup of coffee. "Thanks,"
"Apparently, drunk Bryan doesn't understand the dangers of fighting with strangers," The redhead continued, feigning disinterest while spreading strawberry jam on his toast. "Turns out the guy worked for the mafia in Saint Petersburg."
"You're right," Bryan agreed leaning on the back of his chair lazily. "Drunk me clearly doesn't understand the consequences of his actions for sober me. That was my favorite shirt." He stated half annoyed as Ian eyed him strangely from his seat. Calm Bryan was never a good sign.
"… Why are you so calm today?" Their captain asked seemingly reading his thoughts. "You're usually a lot moodier after you drink, and judging by how you're squinting your eyes, I'd say you have a massive headache."
Bryan snorted lightly despite his obvious physical discomfort.
Ah, there it was, Tala's infuriating intuitive second nature.
If there was one thing in this world that both annoyed him to death and straight-out mind-blew him out of his wits was how this guy in front of him, this – best friend – of his, could read him like a very predictable, very open book.
He just knew when something was different. There was just no hiding from his piercing ice-cold blue eyes.
He swallowed two painkillers from the small white bottle and sipped his coffee shortly after. "Well, today's special."
"Is it, now?" His friend asked lazily.
He shifted slightly in his chair and briefly looked at Kai, who nodded shortly, clearly encouraging him. "I know this might come as out of the blue but… I've made a decision. I know what I want to do now."
"So, Bryan," Spencer asked after a second, slightly pointing his fork at him. "When you say you know what you want to do now, are you talking about you finally repairing the back door you broke last month?"
"What? No."
"Oh wait, I know," The blond continued. "You're cleaning the cellar today, aren't you? Cause it's your turn to go down there."
"No. That's not what I'm saying-"
"Good luck with that," Tala grinned and nudged his short teammate, "last time the shrimp tried to enter the cellar, we almost lost him."
"Hey! It wasn't my fault! Bryan trapped me there,"
"Classic."
"But seriously tho, the back door is our top priority right now-"
"-what I mean to say," Bryan raised his voice annoyed, earning blissful silence once again, "is that I know what I want to do with my life now."
"…Have you thought about it at all?" Kai asked carefully after a few moments. After all, he'd only made the decision less than four hours ago.
"I think I have…" The Falcon replied sincerely, fully understanding Kai's deeper message hidden in that simple question.
"Interesting," Spencer raised his eyebrows intrigued. "Anything but becoming a hitman, I hope?"
Ian snorted loudly, "Can't say I would be too surprised–"
" – Psychology."
The blond choked on the half empty cup of coffee he was drinking a moment ago and began coughing loudly as everyone else's jaws metaphorically dropped to the ground.
"Wait-" Tala straighten his back from his chair after a few daunting seconds. "wait, wait, wait, wait-"
"Oh boy," Spencer dumbfounded calmly after nearly dying with his coffee.
"Listen, I –"
"Psychology?" The redhead repeated genuinely confused. "Didn't you hate shrinks?"
"I do hate them-"
"Bry, no offense, but you have the social skills of a potato-"
"Maybe not a potato, but certainly a carrot or a celery –"
"Hey," Kai barked shutting everyone up. "Let the man speak."
"Listen," Bryan sighed and ran a hand through his still damp hair. "I know shrinks haven't been great to us, you know damn well I'd be the first one to say it,"
He took a minute to gather his thoughts with the other four patiently waiting for him to continue.
"I know they're useless, and that they just didn't understand what we went through, didn't even come close to understanding or helping us in any way. And I sure as hell know we're still messed up in many, many fucked up ways. Hell, they even fucked us more than we already were," He all but blurted out.
Silence was a rare occurrence inside the Blitzkrieg Boys household that hardly ever happened. He cherished it. However, this silence… The silence of expectation… Bryan found he hated it.
"Guys, can't you see?" He pushed further staring at his brothers. "It's because they didn't help us that I want to become one of them. I can understand what people like us went through. What 15-year-old kids who lost everything actually feel… I understand fear, hurt, anger… I understand all of these emotions… And well, I thought that maybe…" He shrugged weakly, suddenly feeling very exposed. "Maybe I could help…"
Truth be told, he was only now admitting it to himself. He deeply, desperately wanted to help in some way. Any way.
A few more moments passed in which nobody did or said anything.
"Okay," Tala broke the silence glaring intensely at his brother. "Okay, alright." He leaned on the table stroking his chin, deep in thought. "Mhm. Alright."
"Red, you're repeating yourself," Spencer pointed out, still half shocked.
"I think I get it," Kai stated quietly, "This is you trying to avoid kids experiencing what we went through, correct?"
"Yeah…" He dropped his gaze only to raise it head again looking directly at his captain. "Besides," He motioned with his hands as if to make his point. "I'm not talking about a shrink, shrink.
"I don't want to sit for hours listening to people whine about their lives and do absolutely nothing about it. I'm talking about, you know, actually helping kids. Just like that old geezer Aleksei, remember?"
They all chuckled fondly at the memory, effectively softening the mood.
Similar to a foster parent, Aleksei Sokolov took them in for a couple of months right after the Abbey fell, after they were out of the hospital and out of danger.
The first few weeks after liberation had been undeniable hell. The shitstorm the news of the Abbey and its child-soldier program had created had them engulfed into one of Russia's worse scandals of the decade.
To say they were not mentally prepared to deal with life outside the Abbey was an understatement. Least of all as media targets.
The media and society had been ruthless. They were thrown to mental specialists and psychiatrists for fear of what they could do, not even considering their own well-being or privacy. Specially in Bryan's case.
What he'd done to Rei had shocked people. Beyblade was supposed to be fun, a game where one couldn't physically hurt others.
News of the incident was covered in international newspapers, even outside the world of sports. Bryan was the sole example of the potential threat Biovolt posed with this program.
Of course, none of these articles bothered to clarify that Bryan had actually been brainwashed to act as he did.
The trial had been a public witch-hunt against all of them. Brainwashed child soldiers or not.
Until Stanley Dickenson could finally pull enough strings to have their role on the trial against Biovolt become strictly confidential in the months that followed. He also had them placed under one of his trusted contacts in the BBA Russian branch who took care of troubled teens.
Tough as he was, Aleksei encouraged them to slowly understand that all of what had happened hadn't been their fault. Through yells and scolding and heated arguments, and even physical fights, but also through talks and patience, and late TV nights and board games. That they weren't the ones to blame.
He stayed with them through the entire trial, until they eventually settled in their new home.
Even when at times Bryan made his life a living hell, even with all the chaos ensuing the trial, with Bryan's razor-sharp and extremely bipolar personality, Aleksei never ditched him. Or them.
Even if It had been a very short period, they owed him so much.
"That settles it then," Tala finally managed to say, a determined glint shinning in his eyes. "If you think this is what you want to do, we won't stop you. Right, guys?"
"Amen captain!" Ian cheered while Spencer energetically nodded like a proud mother hen, and Kai fully smirked behind the cup of coffee he was currently holding.
"Besides, what could go wrong? A bit of tough love would do good kids these days, wouldn't it?"
Bryan lightly dropped his head hiding his smile, "Thanks, guys…"
Spencer suddenly smacked Ian's head.
"OUCH! What was that for?!"
"Ian, you can't just go around comparing people's social skills to potatoes."
"But it's true!"
"Spence's right, shrimp. Apologize."
"But you agreed with me!" Ian snapped and leaned on the table to better yell at the other two.
While the commotion was taking place, Bryan looked up and gave Kai a rare, genuine smile, "Thanks, bro. I mean it."
"Anytime Bry," He replied back with a rare smile of his own. "Anytime."
I swear Bryan studying Psychology makes complete sense in my head.
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