Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.
A/N: Second chapter. Hope you all enjoy.
"Are you awake or simply pretending to be asleep in the hopes that I'll leave?"
Bryan groaned and pressed his face harder into his arms. Of all the castles he could have possibly fallen in, it had to be his. There was no mistaking the haughty, German tinged English. His voice had deepened slightly in the last two years but there was no mistaking who it was. Robert Jurgen.
"No. I keep hoping I'm finally suffering from a psychotic break. Psychiatrists at the BBA kept telling me it was going to happen." Any other time he wouldn't have been a smart ass to the person holding the key to his freedom but at that moment he didn't care. He was cold, stiff, hungry and knew what the German thought of him.
He heard the other teen shift and he finally raised his head, blinking against the light from the open door. "What's wrong? Didn't get enough staring at me when the BBA took us away like we were fucking criminals?"
The German shrugged, one hand curled around the cell bars. "I never thought you were a criminal for what happened at the World Championship. Your actions were simply a result of your upbringing and I refuse to lay the blame at your feet. I would however, like to know what you are doing in my dungeons, when you were not here last night."
"Are you sure you want the truth? Not that anything I could say is going to change your opinion of me." Unfolding his long body he got up, ignoring the pins and needles spiking down his legs. "After all, I'm nothing more than street trash. I was planning on liberating some of your possessions."
He had reached the bars as he spoke until he was in front of the noble, silver eyes fixed on him. The other teen was taller then he remembered, a little broader through the shoulders with facial features sharpened by age, the perfect picture of a knight. Ruby eyes watched his every move and part of Bryan was glad that the other male hadn't stepped away from him. Most everyone at the BBA center had moved away when he got too close, like he was a wild animal waiting to attack. He suspected, even if the bars weren't between them Robert wouldn't back down, the thought bringing a smile to his face.
His gaze dropped to the gold signet ring on Robert's right ring finger, knowing the older teen would know what he was thinking. Sure enough, when he met the noble's eyes he could see that Robert was already one step ahead of him. "Exactly. I was on my way back to Russia and it seems I'm running low on cash. I figured you wouldn't care if a couple forks or spoons went missing, seeing as you've gotten everything you could have wanted."
Robert nodded, never breaking eye contact. "And of course your pride wouldn't allow you to simply walk up to the door and ask for financial assistance. Instead you feel the need to perpetuate the stereotype that has been on you since the Worlds, of an unthinking, unfeeling brute who cares for no one but himself."
He stepped back from the cell, hand falling to his side. "I'll have Gustav make sure you get fed and we'll resume this conversation later."
"Wait a fucking minute! You can't leave me down here like I'm some kind of wild animal." Bryan's hands came up to clutch the cell bars, knuckles white under the pressure. It was like being back at Biovolt again, his control taken away.
The noble half turned towards the door, his voice cold and even. "I would kindly ask that you refrain from using such language in my presence. And I am treating you as a prisoner, not an animal. Food will be down shortly."
He watched as the noble disappeared out of the dungeon, his footsteps echoing for long minutes after he left. Feeling the almost overwhelming urge to break something sweep through him he settled for digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand. Breaking his hand by slamming it into the brick wall was stupid no matter how much he wanted to. Once the need had passed he moved back to his corner, legs once again drawn to his chest.
Ever true to his word, fifteen minutes later a butler descended the stairs, a covered tray in hand. He pushed the tray through a slot at the bottom of the cell door. Shooting a dirty look at the Russian he went back up the stairs, mumbling under his breath in German the entire way.
Bryan didn't move towards the tray until he heard the door at the top of the stairs swing shut. Not even bothering to get to his feet he dragged the tray close and lifted off the lid, surprised to see actual food. A roast beef sandwich, a bowl of beef and vegetable soup, a glass of water and two small tablets of aspirin. He picked the aspirin up and dry swallowed them. "At least someone was thinking."
He quickly devoured the food, the first real meal he'd eaten since leaving the BBA. When everything was gone he replaced the lid and pushed it back out under the door. Later, he didn't care how much time had passed; the butler appeared again to pick up the tray giving him another disgusted look before leaving him in silence again.
Having nothing else to do Bryan drifted off again, stretched out of the floor with his back to the cell bars.
-----
The feeling of being watched pierced Bryan's sleep fuzzed mind and he slowly sat up, not surprised to again find Robert on the other side of the bars watching him. "Don't you have something better to do then stand around watching me sleep?"
"Not this late in the evening. I fear you've missed lunch and dinner but I'm sure the cook left something edible in the fridge." Robert's voice was almost cordial, the ice from the morning completely gone.
Bryan shot to his feet and was at the bars in three long strides. "I don't care about food. I just want to know when you're going to let me out of here so I can continue on my way. I want to forget this ever happened and I'm sure you feel the same way."
Ruby eyes swept over the Russian's long form and Robert took a partial step forward, hands folded behind his back. "Do you have any skills?"
"You mean beside the fact I was part of a plot to take over the world and that I'm a smart ass? I'm about a month away from having a bachelor degree in Accounting. What does this have to do with me getting out of here?"
The noble sank to the floor, ignoring the dirt clinging to his perfectly pressed slacks. "This has nothing to do with leaving, since you won't be. Please sit." He patiently waited for the lavender haired teen to sit before continuing. "I have a feeling my accountant, who has worked for the family for the past thirty years, has been embezzling funds from my family. Never enough to cast any suspicion on him, but just enough that the books never seem to be correct."
"He just recently purchased an extremely expensive house and has told me he is thinking of retiring. I believe he has finally taken enough money to live a comfortable life and I would rather he not be allowed to get away with funds he had illegally appropriated from my family. However, while I learned the basics of accounting in school I do not know enough to begin looking for signs of his corruption. And I cannot hire someone else to do it for me because they would more then likely go to the newspaper and I would like to keep my family out of a scandal."
Robert leaned forward, eyes locked on the Russian. "Help me straighten my books out and I will not tell the police how you broke into my home with the intention of making off with a valuable family heirloom."
For a brief moment the lavender haired teen was certain the world had tipped on its side. The idea of Sir Robert Jurgen asking him for help was almost unthinkable. Granted there were strings attached (when weren't there), but working to straighten out Robert's financial problems was definitely better then spending an undetermined amount of time in jail. Maybe if he played his cards right he could even convince the noble to pay for the rest of his trip to Moscow. It was worth a shot.
"Fine. I'll do it. Better dealing with your books then the German police." He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension in them. "Do I get a better place to stay right? I refuse to do it if you're going to make me stay down here."
The knight smiled, though it was not a true smile, but rather a fake one, cultivated expressly for being shown in public. "Of course. I would never make an employee live in such dismal surroundings." He got to his feet and pulled a small key ring from his pocket, fingers flicking through the mass of keys until he found the right one. Unlocking the door he pulled it open to allow the other teen to exit.
Bryan stepped out. "What, no bodyguards for the illustrious Lord Jurgen?"
"While I still find your attack against Rei reprehensible I would like to believe you are honorable when not pushed to the breaking point." He started up the stairs, Bryan on his heels. "You are free to roam the castle and all of the traps have been disengaged so you need not worry about ending up in my dungeon again."
The Russian rolled his eyes as he followed the noble through a small storage room. "How thoughtful of you. And if it makes you feel any better Rei came to me after the BBA took us into custody and said he doesn't blame me for what happened." He paused for a moment, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He wasn't sure why he had felt the need to tell the older teen what had happened with Rei. It wasn't going to change anything.
"I am delighted to hear Rei was able to look beyond how you were raised to forgive you for your actions in the arena. He is a bright spot in the darkness of the world and I would hate for him to be tainted by lingering anger."
Silence descended between them as they moved higher into the castle, past closed doors and up three different flights of stairs. Bryan, who had never once gotten lost in Moscow or the surrounding area, was completely lost. From the outside the castle was huge, but inside it was a veritable warren of hallways and side rooms, all weaving together in a stone maze.
Robert pushed open a door at the end of one hallway and stepped aside to allow the Russian to pass him. "This will be your room for the duration of your stay. The maids straighten up on a daily basis and the sheets and towels are changed every three days." He sketched a short bow as he stepped back, pulling the door behind him. "Good evening."
Once the sound of footsteps on stone disappeared Bryan moved back to the door. He couldn't help it. Subconsciously he knew Robert wouldn't lock the door. There had been no quiet snick of a key sliding into the lock, no metallic sound of tumblers falling into place. The knight was honorable and had no real reason to lock him in. He had survived eleven years in the Abbey by being one of the smartest and strongest. And survival had meant knowing when to bow to those in positions of power. Robert was the one in power now, and Bryan would do what he needed to stay away from the police.
The handle easily turned and the door opened. Releasing a sigh Bryan closed the door and looked around the room. A large bed stood against one wall covered in a dark duvet with his bag sitting in the middle. Opposite the bed was a massive fireplace, cold and dead with the lateness of the evening. Two dark wingback chairs were placed at angles to each other in front of the fire, working to separate the room into two areas.
Kicking his shoes off he dug a T-shirt and boxers out of his bag before pushing it off the bed. Shower and sleep in that order. The promise of hot water and a real bed for the first time in three weeks was enough to push away even a beginning growl of hunger. He still had a granola bar and some jerky left.
The bathroom was simple with a shower in one corner, its frosted glass doors open. A simple pedestal sink was in the corner opposite the shower with a towel bar next to it hung with perfectly folded and hung towels. He hated to think how much time and money it had taken to get the entire castle equipped with plumbing and electricity.
Turning on the shower as hot as it would go he stripped down and stepped in, the heat of the water almost uncomfortable against his skin. He didn't move for a time, letting the pressure and heat of the water work to ease the tension knotting his shoulders. Once some of the pain had eased he used the expensive shampoo and soap to clean up before getting out. It would be easy to spend longer in the shower but he still craved sleep, despite the fact he had slept for most of the day.
He dressed and left the towels hanging off the sink, flipping the light off as he stepped out of the room. It's like being in a hotel. Deciding sleep was more important then food he hit the light switch next to the bathroom door and slid into the bed, the linen sheets more comfortable against his skin then they had any right to be.
-----
It was nearly noon of the next day when Bryan woke. For long minutes he lazed in the bed, warm and comfortable and completely disinclined to get out of the bed. At least until he remembered he was theoretically working off a debt that actually didn't exist in lieu of having to deal with the authorities. He had actually expected to be pulled out of bed at the crack of dawn to get started. After all, the sooner he got started the faster he could get done and the sooner Robert could kick him out of the castle.
Rolling out of bed he pulled a pair of jeans on and changed his shirt, deciding to forgo his shoes for the day. His clothing from the previous day was missing, a disconcerting sign for the Russian that revealed the true depths of his exhaustion. Training in the Abbey could take place at any time of the day and there were many times they had been woken in the middle of the night for a session. Being able to function on a few hours of sleep and waking the moment someone entered the room had been become habit in order to survive. The fact a maid had been able to get into the room without waking him was bad.
He ran a hand through his hair, coaxing the short strands into lying at least partially flat. A low growl from his stomach served to remind him he hadn't eaten in twenty four hours and that food was needed soon. Stepping out of the room he stopped for a moment, wanting some way to lock the door. It was a ridiculous urge as the only thing of worth in the room was Falborg and compared to some of the objects decorating Jurgen castle his Beyblade was small change. No, the urge stemmed from the fact the room was his for as long as he remained at the castle.
There had been little to no privacy in the Abbey. For as long as he could remember the five of them had shared a single large room for sleeping. There had been no solitude, no time to be alone. And now, when he had actual privacy he was without any way to keep people out. He headed down the stairs, knowing the kitchen was on the first floor but beyond that he was lost.
Once he got to the first floor the problem of finding the kitchen and food was solved. A maid was cleaning a vase perched on a pedestal at the bottom of the stairs. When she caught sight of him she bowed and mumbled something in German before gesturing for him to follow. She led him down another hallway and deposited him in front of a set of swinging doors before disappearing back the way they had come.
The smell of cooking meat hung heavy in the air and he stepped through the door. Before the door had even finished swinging shut he found his arm in the clenches of a matronly woman who was dragging him towards a table in one corner, speaking in rapid, heavily accented English. "Come eat. Lord Jurgen said you would be very hungry."
He allowed the woman to push him into a chair and place a tray of food in front of him before she was back at the oven and stove, making something else and going on in German. As he started cutting the chicken breast on his plate up he listened to the cook continue talking and decided, when she slammed a spoon down on the counter he needed to learn German if he was going to be staying in the castle for any length of time. For all he knew all of the help had called him a bastard.
Once he finished eating he picked up his plate and took it over to the dishwasher with the intent of putting it in the dishwasher. The woman caught sight of him, put the spoon down and grabbed the plate from his hands. "No. You are a guest in this house Master Bryan and will not do any work."
"Speaking of Robert, where is he?" He leaned a hip against the counter, arms folded across his chest.
The cook put the plate in the dishwasher and turned it on before looking back at the teen. "Lord Jurgen left early this morning. Some problems with his holdings in Denmark. He'll be back tomorrow."
Growling low in his throat he rolled his eyes. "Of course he is. Drags me into being his personal bookkeeper and then disappears without even telling me where the books I need are."
"Calm Master Bryan. Lord Jurgen did not want to leave. He suggested I send you to the library. Many books there you might like, including some in your native language." She rested a hand on his arm. "Lord Jurgen is a kind man. Please don't judge him harshly."
Bryan straightened up, arms falling to his side. "I'm sure he is. I suppose I'll go check out the library."