It's been a week since Rose travelled halfway around the world with one goal burning bright in her mind and the keys to his trust fund, and until his day spent alcohol-free and therefore somewhat clearheaded, Adrian has resisted the urge to contact her.

The dream world isn't for the analytical. The careful. It's a place where imagination bursts wide, where streaks of colour are barely contained within an object's outlines - and Adrian's always had plenty of imagination. Now has the control, after all these years, to force wood grain to stay within their patterns, the floor to stay still beneath his feet. The cupboard of Bailey's to wipe away its existence, because this is a serious dream. Yes. He's going to treat it as such.

There's a tug in the back of his mind as he summons her to this shared ground, and the world swirls, strains to accommodate Rose.

Rose looks tired, in that one unguarded glimpse he gets before her walls go up. Brows drawn, one hand pressed to deepen the curve of her back, even though physical aches aren't carried in. She's in sweatpants and a grey hoodie, and her scowl when she glances down vanishes after she sees he hasn't dressed her like the dhampirs who hang around the shadowy corners of court at night.

"What is it?" Rose grumbles. "I'm trying to sleep."

"You are sleeping," Adrian points out. He crosses his arms, tutting. "On my dime, I might add."

She snorts, starts to cross her arms. Stops. She doesn't want to mirror him. "It wasn't doing anything useful, sitting in your bank account."

It was better than enabling you in your suicide mission, Adrian doesn't say. The world wavers momentarily around them, the bookshelf behind Rose flickering in and out of focus, but Rose doesn't appear to notice. She's not aware of how fragile her life is. But Adrian knows. He can't forget his every nightmare of what lies in her future.

"I just want to make sure you're all right," Adrian relents.

"And get a location out of me," she adds.

Adrian smiles with as much charm as he can muster, wants her to soften just a little bit, as he says, "I wouldn't mind getting that either."

Rose takes in his smile, takes in his careful slouch and charm with her keen eyes, and she doesn't waver at all. She's still as resolute, as remote, as the sun rising every morning.

He narrows his eyes, stares, and colour bursts into life around her. In a place held together only by his willpower, her aura is the one thing as constant as it is in the waking world.

"You look tired," Adrian says, quiet and serious.

Rose still watches him. He feels like she's staring right through him, which is strange and unnerving and oh so thrilling, because he can almost pretend that she's watching him for him. Not seeing every shortcut and ounce of support his trust fund provides. His fingers twitch - he needs to drink something.

"I am tired," Rose admits, as quiet and serious as he was. She flinches, as though this were an admission of weakness. From her point of view, it probably is. She's going to try and compensate for that. "But it doesn't mean I'm giving up. It just means you need to let me out of this dream. Now."

"Rose," says Adrian. There are a thousand questions he wants to ask her. A thousand things he wants her to know, to remember, when she wakes up again, before it's too late and she's had her heart broken during her journey, god, he hasn't even mentioned Lissa yet, and-

"No," Rose cuts him off. "I need to rest. Really rest. Finding Dimitri isn't going to be easy."

Just like that her keen eyes are off him. She's not paying attention to him any longer.

There are more important people for her to worry over.

Adrian sighs, flicks the switch in the back of her mind that lets her begin pulling away. "All right. See you..."

She fades away from the room, leaving stillness in her wake and the colour draining away.

Adrian remains a moment longer.

Wants a cigarette.

Then he opens his eyes in the waking world, and goes to the cupboard of Baileys.