Title: Why Rose?
Author: P. Lambert-Jensen
Editor: P. Lambert-Jensen
Language: English
Rating: T
Genre: Angst, Tragedy and Romance
Characters: Rosemarie Hathaway & Dimitri Belikov
Initial Content: Richelle Mead © Vampire Academy
Full Summary: "You're my Roza," he went on. "You're strong. You've always been so strong," he sounded so distressed now, and the desire to comfort him was almost unbearable now. I was frustrated with my reluctant limbs. Why wouldn't they work? Why was I shaking?
Why Rose?
"No, no, no!" his voice reached me before the rest of him did. Fortunately, however, the psi hound was removed from my side. I heard the beast snarl and launch, but the crunching noise that followed told me who won the quarrel.
His hands slipped under me then and I— I wanted to tell him to stop; to tell him that it hurt too much or that it was too late; that the clinic was too far for him to reach; but I knew that changing his mind would be as fruitless as saving me. Afterall, this was Dimitri Belikov here, not an ordinary guardian— he was used to creating miracles with hopeless odds. He was our world's very own Superman. Therefore, in spite of everything (his shame and guilt for the things he done to me; the conflict that had materialised between us since his restoration), I knew he would move mountains to save me. Yet, a small part of me, the part that would always love him, hoped that he was doing this because his love hadn't faded. However, even I knew that was impossible— his words still struck me now, never failed to sting.
I tried to smile at him, feeling melancholic. "Hey, comrade," I teased, but the nickname sounded flat against my tongue now.
The situation, I realised, paralleled that time Natalie Dashkov tossed me around. Irrelevantly, I probably sustained a hearty concussion and a handful of internal haemorrhaging, but Lissa had healed me before I was even diagnosed. Nevertheless, I remembered his fear back then, had seen it consume his features. It was nothing like his expression now— I identified despair, mostly, and vulnerability. I couldn't understand what had driven those emotions and I decided I didn't like it. This was a man who lived and breathed battle, fought strigoi, and had even come back from being one— he was always determined, moving forward, and making sensible choices. Yet, his eyes told me he was crestfallen; like there was an ache within him he couldn't soothe. I wanted to remedy his pain.
"Rose... Rose..." he said but then hushed my witty comment. I watched his Adam's apple bob. "Pochemu, Roza...?" Why, Rose?
Dimitri was rushing across the quadrangle now, and I bounced against his chest. His movements were hurried and harsh; they were jerking my body around too much. I could barely breathe and it was painful. Yet, I didn't care. I didn't want to care, even though I knew I should. I still had responsibilities. I had Lissa to take care of, and I had to protect Adrian. Hell... Who would monitor my parents? They certainly couldn't be left to their own devices. What about Christian? Eddie? Mia? They needed me, didn't they? I looked up through lowered lashes to Dimitri. He wasn't looking at me. He hadn't looked at me in a long time, I realised. Not like he used to, anyway. But, he was a traditional-sort of man. I knew that no amount of water under our bridge would stop him from meeting my final request.
"Will... Will you look after them...?" I murmured, not quite sure he had heard me. I reached up to cup his face when he didn't answer. He didn't look at me until I realised I couldn't keep my arm up anymore. I let my hand slowly slip away from his face – his cheek was slick with black fluid – and when his head whipped down to look at me, his eyes were panicked, and he started to run.
"Rose—"
"Will you... look after them...?" I wheezed. "Please...?" His duster corded between my fingers and I tried to pull him to my attention; make him hear my request.
When he finally spoke, his voice sounded tighter than usual and I had to focus hard to hear him. "You will look after them yourself," he insisted.
I sagged in his arms and my eyes drooped. It wasn't until the fifth time he had shouted my name did I will myself to open my eyes again. I tried smiling, but I could barely manage that now. I felt exhausted. I wanted to give in. Instead, I slumped into him. The pain was numbing now; too incredible to be actually felt now. My body was going into shock, I presumed. "I always knew you had a sense of humour..." I commented, knowing that he was still expecting my reply.
"You will," he gritted.
Something cool and wet landed on my cheek then. I blinked blearily at him, not quite understanding, because I was sure we had passed under a roof some time ago. He had been calling for help only moments before. Therefore, that couldn't possibly be rain. Then, it happened again— small droplets dampened my face; it landed in my hair and snuck in uncomfortable places on my head. One even ended on my ear lobe. I might've laughed if I hadn't realised what those little drops were.
"Comrade..." I began softly. "Are... Are you crying?"
"You'll make it through this," he sounded defensive. I wondered if it was really me he was trying to convince. "Like every other time. We'll find Lissa and she'll take the pain away," his hand had fisted itself into the back of my ruined shirt. "Or Adrian," his voice cracked. More cool tears slipped onto my face; my forehead, nose and mouth— my chin. I imagined the blood on my cheeks running pink; circuiting along my cheekbones and damming down to my throat. "Then, you'll wake up tomorrow and nag me for eggs and bacon on toast, and cooked fruit and... and..." he sobbed. "Someone!" he called after a moment of silence. "Help me!"
"It's going to be okay..." I said and tried to hold him. But, of course, I couldn't. I only further jostled my injuries and groaned.
"You're my Roza," he went on. "You're strong. You've always been so strong," he sounded so distressed now, and the desire to comfort him was almost unbearable now. I was frustrated with my reluctant limbs. Why wouldn't they work? Why was I shaking?
Someone shrieked – a woman, I rationalised – and Dimitri was lunging forward. His momentum slammed me into him, and I gasped. He didn't seem to notice. I could only hear Lissa's name— repeated in a panicked fashion. And for the first time since he had hauled my ass out of the forest, I found hope flutter in my chest. Maybe... Just, maybe, Dimitri really could create miracles.
But, the woman was still screeching and I couldn't understand what was happening. I watched guardians move and I was being snatched from Dimitri's arms. I cried out then. I tried to force them away, but my movements were hardly effective. The last thing I remembered before the shadows kissed me once more was Dimitri's rage and then Lissa storming in the middle of the commotion, finally looking like a Dragomir princess.
Hey!
Firstly, this is definitely complete. Secondly, however, I may entertain the idea of a sequel. I also know that the ending is very curt, and let me tell you, I am not pleased by it, but I just wanted this done and dusted. Hence why I'm entertaining a possible sequel— maybe even a prequel to explain why the psi hound attacked Rose. Nevertheless, I hope readers far and wide enjoyed this little one-shot. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Korean drama to finish.
Sincerely, P. Lambert-Jensen.