D-G: Thanks for those who reviewed. Time for chapter two...

Robert sighed as he walked down the corridor of his castle. He ran his fingers through messy purple locks tiredly and stopped when he reached a closed door.

His hand hovered hesitantly over the oak for few heartbeats, but he gave in and knocked three times.

"Enrique?" He called softly. "Enrique, please unlock the door."

There was no answer from the other side. He sighed for the millionth time that day and rested his head on the wood; it made a soft 'thud' sound.

"Enrique-"

"Just leave it Robert…" A voice said quietly behind the German noble. Robert turned to see Johnny. "He won't come out. Oliver was basically his brother. His… his…" The Scottish lad couldn't bring himself to say the 'D' word. "You know… it's hit him so hard. I mean, Oliver's gone… never coming back."

"Sir," Robert looked to his left resignedly to see his butler, "there is a call on the video phone."

The Griffon nodded and followed the grey haired man down the corridor, leaving Johnny standing there.

His violet eyes were a shade darker from lack of sleep and stress, and his umber hair was messily organised within the confines of his bandana. He too was within a depression of losing his teammate and (dare he say it?) friend.

Movement to his left made him look to the side. Enrique's door slowly, but surely, opened and the Italian stepped out.

His blonde hair was also tousled but it hung over his eyes, casting shadows across his face.

"Why…?" Enrique croaked. "Why… did he have to… go?"

Johnny's heart clenched. This was so unlike him - unlike all of them! - but I guess you miss something truly and dearly when it's gone…

The redhead moved over to the blonde and drew him into an uncharacteristic hug, rubbing his back.

"I… don't know, Enrique…" He whispered. "I don't know…"

"Ashes to ashes… dust to dust…" The priest said solemnly as everyone in the garden of the Polanski's mansion stared down at the memorial.

The fire had been so fierce that no bodies were recovered…

The priest closed his book and made the sign of the cross, murmuring obvious prayers in Latin. He bowed his head; people took that as a dismissal and started to leave.

The remaining Majestics stared on sadly as Oliver's mother bent down to the shared memorial of her husband and son and wept, a man (obviously a close family friend) standing next to her, with a hand on her shoulder. The priest walked over to the three males.

"I can assure you that Oliver is in a good place with God above and that he's looking down on you, watching you everyday." He said softly. "I wish you well in your lives, my children. If you ever need help, I am always here for you."

Robert gave him a nod of thanks and his gaze followed the man as the elderly servant of God helped Oliver's crying mother into the house with the other man.

The German noble laid his hands on Enrique and Johnny's shoulders. "Anything you wish to say to him?"

Johnny shook his head sadly.

"I want to be alone." Enrique murmured to them.

Johnny and Robert shared sympathetic looks but nodded, leaving the Italian on his own by the gravestone.

Enrique sighed to calm his heart. "Oli… God, why did you have to go? I miss you…"

"He's been out there for hours." Johnny commented quietly as he and Robert looked out the window into the garden where the memorial and Enrique sat. "Should we-?"

"No," Robert replied with a shake of his head. "Give him time."

They turned around, though, when they heard footsteps approaching.

Oliver's mother stepped into the room. Her sunshine green hair was out of its usual bun and fell around her shoulder and equally green eyes looked on them sadly.

"Boys…" She said, her voice even softer than normal. "I want you to know that you may stay here for as long as you wish, anytime you wish." The two nodded. She gave them a smile. "Oliver would be proud of you, trying to be as strong as you can. I think you deserve this more than I…"

She held out a package and Robert took it from her hand. Opening it, his eyes met a beyblade, some of the edges burnt. Half the attack ring had been melted, obviously in the fire's heat. The bit chip was empty.

"It was Oliver's…" She continued, "though Unicolyon wasn't found. I guess she left this place to guide him safely into heaven." She rolled her lips and her eyes watered with fresh tears. "Excuse me."

The graceful woman left the room quickly, her long black dress rustling.

Johnny looked up at the sombre noble. "I think Enrique should have it…" He murmured.

Robert cast him a look before nodding. "Come."

They walked out the patio doors and onto the decking, following the wooden path to the memorial – and to where Enrique sat.

"Enrique."

The blonde looked up at them and gave a small smile in greetings. The other two sat beside him.

"Oliver's mother gave us this," Robert sat softly, holding out the charred pink beyblade. "We thought you would have it; you were closest to Oliver than us two combined."

Enrique hesitantly held out a hand and Robert placed the small beyblade upon it. Slim, manicured fingers enclosed the blade and blue eyes stared down at it.

The corner of his mouth kicked up slightly. "You know… if Oliver saw his blade in this state, he'd totally flip."

Johnny sniggered. "Yeah, he always was a perfectionist. I remember when we were just mucking around in friendly matches and I chipped his blade." He pointed out a crack on the top. "I went deaf that night and I got so many bruises, I must've have black and blue."

"You deserved it, Johnny." Robert commented. "It was only a little battle."

"I couldn't help it if Salamalyon is powered by my anger and Enrique was pissing me off." Johnny retorted.

"Heh, you still lost." Enrique added.

Silence shrouded them. A comfortable silence, mind.

"You know, it still feels like he's still alive."

"He is, Johnny." Robert said. "In our hearts, minds and souls…"

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