A/N Hello! Been a while, ne?

Since I'm so horrible at updatin...(ducks tomatoes and rotten fruit)...I've made a oneshot.Tad angsty, dwelling on pain filled childhoods and whatnot, but meh. It works.

So the main thing in here is that Tala is watching someone else from the Blitzkreig Boys cry. He's thinking about what happened to them and what their futures will be like because they are who they are. Very dark. Cookies to those who guess who's crying! (Correctly, that is.)

Move On

By: Ceriadara

We're still feared, aren't we? Still alienated from the rest of society, save a rare few – and even they don't totally trust us. No one does, besides ourselves.

We were our own life support. If one of us fell, the others took the blame upon themselves and never failed to help the fallen rise. We're closer than any relationship could get us, closer than any family could ever have. It's strange to think that something so cruel as pain can do that to people.

Beyblading – it was our lives. It still is, I suppose, but not in the literal sense like it was in the Abbey. If you couldn't blade, you were worthless. We got lucky those first few times – the times when we won against the other kids there. The times when Boris saw. Lucky, in the respect that he saw only our victories and not our defeats.

He took us to him, then, and raised us as if we were machines instead of children. Yes, better food came, and yes, we had a bed instead of a floor. Those were very small rewards for such punishment, however.

I can't even count all the times when one of us would be called out of the dormitory late at night. Depending on who called us, we all knew what it was for. If it was Boris or Voltaire or even a scientist, we were being called in for nighttime training.

If it was a guard…

Everyone knew what the guards wanted.

Truly, then, is it any fault of ours that we did what we did? Our actions were not us then, and they are still not us now, not completely. Living in fear almost since birth changes you so drastically that it seems incredible and miraculous to you when you see a child smile.

We didn't know smiles, did we?

No, all we ever knew were tears.

I know that it may sound as thought I'm just defending Bryan, but he what he did was not something that he wanted. He was raised by so many to hate. Hundreds of times every day they took him away from the dormitory. Hundreds of times a day they strapped him tightly to a table, injecting him with a thousand needles, wanting to find out what would happen.

Can you blame him?

Can you blame any of us?

I don't think so.

Many people call us emotionless. But isn't sadness an emotion? And pain. We can feel it, just the same as any other person on the street. We've felt more pain than anyone deserves to feel, much less a child.

We aren't close because we "love" each other. We aren't close because we feel like family. Haven't I already told you that? We're closer than any of that could ever possibly be. We're closer than brothers. We…I don't know. We know each other and we understand each other, more so than anyone else, even twins.

We know how they feel…we understand what it means to feel pain.

People say "Move on from the past! It's over! Forget it!". We can't. Not now, not ever. Our pasts are something that you can't just forget. They'll haunt us for the rest of our life. We can't just blank it out. But maybe, in time, we can move on once more.

Maybe. Just maybe. Or maybe only some of us will be able to take another step forward. Maybe some won't be able to leave it all behind. Like it or not, we grew up in that Abbey. It was the only semblance of a "home" that we ever had.

Yes, our childhood was filled with pain instead of pleasure. Yes, we were hurt and hit instead of cared for and loved. But it is still a childhood. Would you forget yours? Could you forget, even if you wanted to?

No.

Childhood is the time when souls are made and souls are broken. Childhood is the time when dreams are realized and fates are set within stone. Childhood is the time when fear is taught and pain is realized. It is during childhood that you become the person you are destined to be.

It's not something that's easy to forget.

The making of a person – the making or yourself – is a time that cannot be left behind. It effects every decision you make, conscious or no. You become who you are in those tender years.

Yes, we are "emotionless".

Yes, we are what some people call "evil".

But there were also times when we could think back. There were times when we cried in front of them and they held us close until we could breathe again. There will be times when the fear of that darkened place comes back, and they will be there to lift us up and bring us back into the light once more.

Many people believe that we don't deserve to be here.

Many people believe that we should rot in hell.

Many people believe that we are nothing but evil.

Many, many, many people are very wrong.

He's crying now. He doesn't think I know that he still does, does he? He acts so strong and cold, so angry...he wants to turn us and the world away, or so he thinks. But deep down, he also knows that he needs us as we need him.

He knows that we don't care what he's done. He knows that the rest of us have forgiven him for what he did. And yet…he doesn't move on. But he can. I know he can.

And I know all of this as I see him cry with his head in his hands, and I know that he knows it too.

And when he wipes away his tears, we'll help him up again like we have countless times. And then maybe, in time, we can move on once more.

Maybe.

I think we'll manage for now.