If Things Had Been Different

by Sparx424

What if Rosethorn had died of the pox, and Briar had been unable to save her? Briar's reaction to her death. Seems like a Briar/Tris, not intended to be.

1. Prologue: Grief and Blame

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters in here, they belong to Tamora Pierce.

Prologue: Briars POV

"Briar…"

"No."

"Briar, please…"

"NO!" I lay curled over Rosethorn's motionless form She could not be dead. It simply was not possible. Rosethorn the survivor, Rosethorn the indestructible… could not be dead. Could she?

"Come on Briar. Let go." Niko's cool, calm voice filtered through my grief. He did not sound sad. How could he be happy, at a time like this, when the world was spiralling down, crumbling. I was distantly aware of Lark crying, and the girls trying to enter my mind, trying to comfort me. I shut them out. They had no right to be there, I did not want them feeling what I felt.

Strong hands grasped me under my arms, lifting me up, trying to tear me away from Rosethorn. None of the girls were strong enough to do that. Niko! How dare he! What right did he have, to take me from her? I snarled at him, hissing threats and curses, thrashing, trying to get back to Rosethorn. Niko held me, made me watch as they took the body away. That, for me, was the real death, the final proof that she was gone. And Niko… Niko had caused that, Niko had taken me from her. Niko was to blame, not the pox. Strange twisted logic, that somehow made sense to me.

I tore out of Niko's hold, and ran. Not after Rosethorn; Niko had crushed that last hope. But to my room. To my shaakan, the only thing that could possibly even touch my grief, my anger, now. I hauled it up onto the roof, climbing up after, and warded a circle round me. I did not want anyone coming after me, attempting to reason with me just then. I curled myself around my shaakan, tears falling thick and fast down my face. I made no attempt to wipe them away, knowing more would replace them just as quickly. The sun, sitting low on the horizon, cast a bloody red light on everything it touched. Oh, irony. I continued to cry, my tears turned to blood in the half-light. I was safe up here, on the roof, where my sisters could not see me, my weakness. I felt my shaakan stretch its branches to rest on my cheek, trying to comfort me. But it was a futile gesture. Nothing could help me now.

A/N Please review, will try and update soon.