A/N- This has been bouncing around in my head during my last few readthroughs of the Bloodlines series. The first few chapters will swap viewpoints, but later ones will probably have just one

Sydney

As always, I woke in the dark.

They considered me guilty of consorting with darkness, so they kept me in the dark. Occasionally, they'd flood my cell with odd bits of light to keep me from truly resting. I had no way to keep time, which is how they wanted it. They wanted me confused, uncertain, exhausted and afraid. Too bad they had me instead. I was Alchemist enough to understand their methods, but there wasn't much they could do to me.

I had made plans on using my menstrual cycle to keep time, but it hadn't come yet. I was assuming that I hadn't been imprisoned as long as I thought. Time must be running more slowly than I thought. They must have been manipulating my sense of time like they were manipulating my diet.

Time passed, and what with all the thinking time that the Alchemists gave me, I began to wonder exactly how long I had been in here. I thought about the side effects of the birth control bill I had chosen and a disappearing menstrual cycle was not one of them. Even though every logical part of me told me that it was stupid, I began to worry.

"Hello again, Sydney," the mysterious voice said. It was a vaguely female, robotic sort of voice. It was bland enough to match the grey-white shift they had me wearing that barely gave me the illusion of modesty. It liked to talk to me, to draw me out. They wanted me to confess my 'sins' of my own volition. They didn't realize how unlikely that was. They had no hold over me. My sister betrayed me, my father hated me, and the rest of my family was unlikely to be able to see me. They couldn't do anything to Adrian either, he wasn't in their jurisdiction.

"We have news for you Sydney," I stayed silent. It was best not to talk to them. "We have discovered the depths of your depravity." The voice sounded equal parts gleeful and disgusted, even through the distorter. My stomach sank as I realized what they were about to tell me.

"We know about the mutant spawn you've created, Sydney."

No, not this, anything but this…

"You have been defaced, you must be cleansed." Tears filled my eyes as the signs I had been ignoring fell into place. Then her words penetrated the fog of fear, worry, and a tiny spark of joy. They wanted to kill my baby.

"What?" I said, then I shrieked at the top of my lungs "NO! NO! YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM! DON'T DO THIS!"

"You don't wish to be cleansed?" the voice asked, disgusted. I didn't care what they thought of me. The tears that had threatened earlier began to fall as I sobbed.

"Please!" I begged, "Please, I'll do anything! Just let me give him to Adrian, don't kill him please! He's just a baby, he can't help what he is! He's an innocent!"

"None of these creatures are innocent," the voice replied impassively.

"Please!," I continued, "he can grow up to guard more Moroi, that makes your job easier! Give him to Adrian, give him to a Moroi Academy, anything, just please don't kill him! Please!"

The voice was silent. I begged and pleaded and cried. I was serious too. In the moments since I learned of this little dhampir's existence, I had come to love it with all of my heart. It somehow didn't diminish my love for Adrian, it was as though my heart grew larger to accommodate all of the love I needed for my baby. It was probably the weirdest thing I'd ever experienced, but also the most beautiful.

Eventually, the voice returned. "We have decided that your plea for the creature's life indicates that you have not lost your morality, you are simply misguided and corrupted. In this light, we have decided to grant your request. When your creature can live without you, we will give it to its father and we can begin your reeducation in earnest. For now you must do what we say."

I swallowed. I knew that this would kill me. If not bodily, these people would kill my soul. But I knew that I had no other choice if I wanted to keep my baby safe.

Adrian

I was exhausted.

I could barely feel spirit anymore, even though I had quit my mood stabilizers over a month ago. I had spent almost every moment looking for Sydney in dreams. At least when I wasn't at Carlton. I had wanted to withdraw, but I knew Sydney wouldn't want me to. I had to finish this semester for her. She would have been so disappointed if I'd given up. This was an opportunity that she'd wanted for years, I wouldn't waste it.

So I didn't.

I kept painting.

If the palates had dimmed to black and grey, my professors and friends didn't comment. If the only colors I used were yellow and purple- well, only Jill understood. And I rarely looked into her eyes for the pity I couldn't face.

Every spare moment I was in a dream trance, searching for Sydney. All I had to go on was Marcus's thoughts. They want to integrate her back into the fold. To do so, they'll try to make it as familiar as possible. She will be with Americans- her own culture by their thinking. Honestly, it made sense. There's no way they'd expose her to new cultures. The problem with this theory was that I still couldn't find Sydney. I'd even tried in class once or twice to make sure they weren't using the time to manipulate me into not finding her. But in the end? Nothing. Except major spirit crashes constantly and my late great-aunt's voice telling me what I already knew- that I was a failure.

We practically harassed Maura, the new Alchemist. The most I'd gotten from her was a smirk when I mentioned reeducation. That smirk made me afraid. I wanted to compel her, but she probably didn't know Sydney's location. Marcus agreed. Even Jackie Terwillinger was searching. But her attempts to find Sydney magically were as fruitless as my plea to Lissa.

"Adrian," she'd said, exasperated, "She's under their jurisdiction. I cannot contest that under these circumstances. I'm sorry." In my fear and spirit induced rage, I'd attempted to verbally lash out.

"Doesn't matter if they're torturing her, Torturing her for being friends with us Moroi!" Lissa had sighed.

"I'm sorry, Adrian, there's nothing I can do." I'd simply hung up, afraid to speak. Afraid to tell her that my flame in the dark might just go out if we can't save her.

My phone rang again. Jill.

"Adrian, she'll be alright," Jill soothed.

"How?" I said softly in a broken voice.

"I don't know," she admitted, "But she's strong. And you're strong. You will make it through this, you both will."