Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Richelle Mead is the author and owner of the Vampire Academy series. The original characters and plot are the property of the original author. The fanfiction author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 2 – Grief

Dimitri's POV

"I love you, Comrade."

It was the last thing she'd whispered to me during a brief private moment before we entered the caves. After that, we were both too focused on our mission – rescue the victims as quickly as possible and keep ourselves alive.

We'd succeeded – for the most part. We only lost one of the victims of the thirteen taken during the strigoi attack on the academy. He was a young moroi student – unfortunately drained as a snack. His nearly naked body had been riddled with what seemed like hundreds of puncture marks where savage strigoi fangs had pierced and ripped at his pale skin. Alberta asked me to inform his parents, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but stare off into space wondering what the hell had gone wrong.

She was supposed to be outside the caves. She was supposed to be part of the exterior defense in case the strigoi got past the first wave of guardians that went inside the caves. I never wanted her to be there with us in the first place, putting her life in danger, but she'd insisted she could help and for once in her short life, her mother Janine Hathaway had been on her side. Janine argued valiantly to allow the senior novices and moroi teachers to help with the rescue. Alberta had been wary, but cautiously agreed with conditions that were supposed to keep the novices as safe as possible. Rose had squeezed her mother's hand in thanks and they'd smiled wanly at each other. The one and only time they agreed on anything had led to the biggest tragedy in my life.

I felt real hatred for Janine Hathaway in that agonizing moment outside the cave entrance just before sunset, when we realized that of the six guardians we had lost during the battle, my beautiful Roza had been one of them. I wanted to go back in, but Janine and Alberta wouldn't let me. It took four guardians to hold me back from running into the caves to retrieve Roza and in the end Janine Hathaway pulled her arm back and punched me in the face, knocking me unconscious.

The last view I had of Rose was imprinted on my retinas and it kept replaying in my mind as a macabre reminder that I knew would stay with me forever – her limp and broken body being dragged back into the caves by a blond haired strigoi male who smirked at me cruelly.

"Adios, Belikov," he'd yelled. "I'll be sure to send her after you once she's one of us."

Standing up from my crouch against the brick wall of the chapel where I'd been wallowing in my misery, I punched the wall, shattering two knuckles in the process. I kept punching, ignoring the pain – the only sensation I'd felt for two days, until my hand was bruised, bloody and swollen.

She was gone, as good as dead. When Alberta and I had sneaked off to return to the caves the next day during the daylight hours, the caves were empty of living strigoi. All of the remaining strigoi had left and there was no sign of Rose. If she was still alive, she wouldn't be for long. I'd have to go after her and kill her. We'd promised each other that should the unthinkable happen, the survivor would end the sorry existence forced upon the victim. I wondered whether I could do it.

Could I hunt and kill the love of my life?

Could I look into the red-rimmed eyes of the truly evil being that my Roza would surely become and stake her unbeating heart?

I fell to my knees on the soggy grass by the wall of the chapel. My blood dripped down the brickwork, blending with the rusty red of the centuries old masonry, becoming one with the holy building. I let the tears fall – deep, agonizing sobs of grief from deep inside me. I felt my entire body being consumed with heartache and anguish for what I'd lost. I cried until my head pounded and I could barely breathe as my chest heaved.

When my senses returned to me, the sun was low in the sky and I was lying face down on the wet grass, mud clinging to my clothes, face and hands. I'd been vaguely aware of being approached by others – novices, a few moroi teachers and guardians, but no one dared disturb me – except one and she sat on the grass a few feet away from me and cried her own tears of loss and misery.

I had my answer. Yes, I could and I would end Rose Hathaway if she was strigoi. It would kill my soul to do it, but I would keep my promise to her. And when it was over – when the horrible, but necessary deed was done, I would turn my stake on myself and end my own lonely misery. The thought of being with her again in the afterlife gave me the strength of mind to do what I needed to do.

Bracing my hands in the mud, I groaned as pain lashed through my mangled hand. Ignoring the throbbing, I pushed my body up until I was on my knees and wiped the mud and water away from my face with my undamaged hand. I looked over to the woman sitting on the grass. She was composed, but the evidence of her own grief was apparent in the tear tracks that had dried on her cheeks.

"You loved her," she said quietly, her voice husky. "More than that – you were in love with her."

I nodded as I stood up, swaying slightly on unsteady legs. I reached out to brace myself against the chapel wall, cringing as my injured hand connected with the unrelenting masonry.

"Yes," I croaked.

"You're going after her?"

"Yes, I am," I told Janine Hathaway. "I won't let her exist as strigoi. She hated them – she would never want to be allowed to live as one."

"I know," she sniffled. "Tell her … tell her I l-loved her before you do it," she begged. "I never got the chance to tell her," she admitted sadly. "She probably wouldn't have believed me anyway," she whispered.

"I'll tell her."

"Are you coming back?" she asked me curiously.

I paused for a moment and then shook my head. "No. There are a few things I need to take care of first." I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat. "I need to see my family and then I'll start searching, but I won't be back." The face of her murderer was the other image imprinted on my brain – it was photo perfect and I would never, ever forget his face if it took me until I was old and gray to end him. He was who would lead me to my Roza and I was already planning my strategy for tracking him down, and when I found him, I would kill him. He knew my name, which meant he knew someone who knew me or knew of me before they were turned. I could think of only one person in Montana that might be that person – Ms Sonya Karp.

Janine nodded and then she did something I never expected. She stepped up to me and put her arms around me, hugging my tightly.

"Good luck, Dimitri Belikov. I'm glad Rose had you in her life. I may not have spent much time with her, but even I could see that you made her happy, and for that, I thank you." She sniffled and pulled back; wiping her eyes, before setting her unemotional guardian face into place. "Get that hand seen to," she ordered, "and let me know before you leave."

"I will."

We walked silently toward the courtyard where we would part ways – me toward the infirmary and Janine to guest quarters. As soon as my hand was taken care of, I planned to call my mother and ask her to meet me in Novosibirsk with the rest of my family. I didn't have time to visit Baia if I was to get on the trail of Rose and her strigoi murderer.

"What will you do now?" I asked Janine quietly.

She faltered slightly and whispered, "I need to call Rose's father. He deserves to know what happened."

I paused and took hold of Janine's arm to halt her forward movement. There was something I needed to know. There was something else I wanted to tell Roza before I killed her and the only person who knew the truth was standing right beside me.

"Who was he, Janine?" I asked her urgently.

"What?" she gasped. "What type of question is that to ask me?" she demanded angrily.

"Rose always wanted to know who he was, but she said you refused to discuss him. She deserves to know before she dies."

Janine broke. "She's already dead!" she screamed at me. "What difference does it make now?"

"It will make all the difference to her!" I snapped. "No matter what she becomes, there will always be a part of her that is my Roza and she wanted to know about her father." I gripped her arms tightly and shook her, my broken hand protesting intensely.

"Tell me!" I yelled at her, my Russian accent thickening.

Janine sobbed once and then her face tightened into the cold guardian mask she always wore.

"Mazur. His name is Ibrahim Mazur," she said matter-of-factly.

My eyes widened. "Zmey," I breathed with disbelief. Janine looked startled, and turned her face away quickly, but I'd seen the look in her eyes.

"Are you happy now? You know his name and you can tell Rose, but it's not like it will mean anything to her," Janine spat. "She doesn't know anything about him or the type of person he is."

"No, but I do," I murmured coldly. What I didn't say was how it was Janine's fault that Rose didn't know her father.

"And how are you going to tell her? What? Are you going to pin her down and have a little heart-to-heart before you stake her? Don't be stupid, Dimitri! You trained her and you know how strong she'll be as strigoi. You'll be lucky to stake her without losing your own life in the process."

"I said I wasn't coming back, Janine. I didn't say I planned to survive my final battle. I will capture her and restrain her long enough to speak with her. It won't be for long, but it will be long enough – I'll make sure of it."

She stared at me coldly before nodding her acceptance. Janine wrenched herself from my weakening grip, and we continued walking in the direction of guest housing. The churning silence was almost unbearable.

"What do you know of Abe, anyway?" Janine asked me curiously when we stopped in front of her building. I flinched, having grown accustomed to the cold silence. She'd spent the time grappling with the fact that Ibrahim Mazur, otherwise known as Zmey, was not a stranger to me.

"Enough," I said. "Most of it isn't good, but I know he can't be all bad if you loved him enough to bring Rose into the world."

"Who said anything about being in love?" Janine said scornfully as she strode away from me, effectively ending our conversation.

I was beginning to understand why Rose's relationship with her mother had been so troubled. Janine Hathaway was a bundle of contradictions – one moment sad and almost maternal, and the next, emotionless and cold or angry. I thought Rose had been tough to get a handle on, but she was nothing compared to her mother. I shook my head – I now knew from whom Rose got her attitude. But her hair, eyes, and olive skin tones she'd obviously inherited from her father. The Turkish mobster struck fear into the hearts of everyone who knew him – almost as much as the strigoi, and even I wouldn't cross Zmey, but I was beginning to believe that he couldn't be all bad. After all, he'd sired Rose and she was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Three hours later, I was on my way to the moroi dormitory to see Rose's friends. A light snow had begun to fall and I shivered slightly in the darkness. The time was the nearing the middle of the moroi day and most of the students would be in class, but I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye and telling them what I planned to do – they deserved to hear it from me. Earlier, I had arranged with Alberta to assign another guardian to Vasilisa Dragomir, and I told Alberta what I was planning to do. She wasn't surprised by my decision and didn't try to talk me out of it. Instead, she wished me luck and expressed her condolences. Somehow, she'd known what was happening between Rose and I, and she'd quietly supported it.

I headed up the stairs to my charge, Vasilisa's room. Alberta had told me that she was too distraught to attend classes and it was decided to allow her time to properly grieve for her friend and bonded sister. I hoped Adrian Ivashkov would be with Princess Dragomir and Lord Ozera. I didn't like the man, but I knew that Rose had an inexplicable soft spot for the playboy drunk. As I reached the landing on the fourth floor where the Princess' room was, I heard hysterical crying and I ran down the hallway in the direction of the sobbing.

The door to her room was open and when I stepped into the aperture, the princess was on the bed sobbing in the arms of her boyfriend Christian Ozera. Adrian Ivashkov stood by the window with clenched fists, tears streaming down his pale face.

"What's wrong? What happened?" I asked urgently. I might not be Vasilisa's guardian anymore, but that didn't mean I no longer cared.

Christian looked up at me, his own eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Come in and close the door," he instructed quietly.

I did as he asked and walked over to the bed. Christian noticed my bandaged hand, but he didn't ask. I think he realized it had been my way of dealing with what happened.

"What's wrong?" I asked again.

"Lissa woke up screaming a few minutes ago." He paused and looked me in the eye. "She said the bond broke," he told me reluctantly. "Rose is dead."

I felt my heart breaking all over again and I shuddered.

"Or strigoi," Christian added.

All of my hope fled.

AN: Please read and review.

I do not advocate suicide and Dimitri's decision to join Roza in death should be seen as him expressing his grief in a weak moment. I'm not saying he would ever actually do it, because it's not something that Rose would ever want or approve of.

Btw: Dimitri will refer to Rose as Roza spelled with a 'z' because that's the Russian version of her nickname; however, everyone else in Rose's new life will refer to Rose as Rosa spelled with an 's' since most English speaking people (where English is their first language) would interpret Rosa to be a nickname of Rose in the Anglo-English sense.