Run Away
Cypress A. Posthumus

Summary: Dimitri hadn't realized there was a lust spell on Rose's necklace that night. Seven years afterward, the bond was quiet and had been for a painful amount of time. Rose and Dimitri had searched Russia for Lissa to no avail and returned to the academy. Now, Rose is determined to find her best friend, at any cost to herself.
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy or any of its characters. All characters, places, and things - unless otherwise stated – are that of Richelle Mead.

IX

As the night bore on, Dimitri tried and tried to call out to Rose. He struggled against the twine – he was sure there was now a tear in his pant leg from where it rubbed mercilessly. Dimitri was hungry, he was sure he wouldn't get any rest to help cure what left of the hang over he has.

"Rose, please wake up," he begged. "Pozhaluista, Roza. Prosnut'sya."

Dimitri's voice was cracking because of the lack of water in his system. Dimitri knew he smelled of alcohol, he couldn't help but feel ashamed. He needed to protect Rose and they needed to find Lissa.

What was I thinking? I said a few drinks to relax, but I downed six double shots of Stolichnaya. What the fuck is wrong with me.

"Prosnut'sya, Roza." Dimitri begged again. "Pomogi mnye. Pozhaluista."

Dimitri couldn't be sure if Rose was hearing what he was saying. Rose has been drugged with heroin, assuming that was the only thing they melted. She was probably out of sorts, probably hallucinating.

In fact, Rose was imagining that she had a normal life. Hallucinating, rather. Rose was living in a rambler style house with Dimitri – Lissa didn't exist. Rose couldn't be happier. She could finally have a normal life. Rose and Dimitri were normal, not Dhampirs. They had no Moroi to protect, no Strigoi to kill. They had a life to live together and they were normal.

"Rosemarie!" Dimitri shouted, still tied to the chair. "Wake up. I need your help. Please, Rose, wake up."

It was rare, but Dimitri felt himself becoming anxious, becoming unable to control himself any longer. Dimitri wanted to cry, and it was hard for him not to. Considering the circumstances, he probably should have been crying already. Dimitri knew he had to stay strong, for Rose's sake. For his pride. He hated pride. Dimitri has been told his entire life that "pride" is one of the seven sins, but it's never had him concerned. He called it self respect and dignity.

Rose's body started to twitch violently, veins seemed to claw their way to the surface of her bronzed skin. Rose's unconscious body convulsed, for what seemed like an eternity. Dimitri watched in horror. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her muscles became tense. Suddenly, it stopped. Dimitri's heart was racing, his mind was blank. He was holding his breath, but didn't realize it until he felt light headed and finally exhaled and inhaled.

There was no other noise in the house. Dimitri wasn't sure if Gazanfer and his army had left, but if they had, where had they gone? Why did they leave? Dimitri couldn't help but let his mind wander and ramble. His thoughts turned to depressing things, like watching Rose die if she had another seizure. Watching those men shoot her up with illicit drugs. Dimitri's heart broke at each of those thoughts and his eyes brimmed with tears, but he shut his eyes tight and shook his head.

"Rose will live. We'll get out. We'll find Lissa." Dimitri told himself, but it was a lie. He doubted that they would do any of those things, especially Rose. She's got alcohol and drugs in her system. Dimitri was no expert on drugs, but he assumed that mixing any sort of drug was not a good thing. Kind of like drinking beer and then vodka – it always ended in throwing up until the stomach rid itself of all its contents.

Hours passed and Dimitri kept watching Rose's body. He watched the rise and fall of her abdomen. He watched her for most of the night, refusing to let himself fall asleep in fear that Gazanfer and his army would come back and take Rose away. Dimitri's mind was currently going through many irrational thoughts and he was fighting to stay in control of himself. It was hard, but at the same time, it wasn't. Dimitri had been thinking of this day, not the day that he would watch Rose die, but the day that he would watch someone he loved die. He hadn't thought that it would be so hard, but he knew he had to keep strong, because he couldn't let her die.

"Roza," Dimitri said. He was exhausted. Struggling to get out of the chair and to stay awake were a lot to ask from him at the moment. "Ne umirayut. Pozhaluista, ne umirai."

Rose's body lay on the ground, but her mind was a different place. She still dreamed of her and Dimitri having a life together, as humans, not as Dhampirs. They didn't have a care in the world and Rose knew that she could bear Dimitri's children now.

As Rose lay on the ground, her tongue slid over her dry, cracked lips. "My mozhem imet' detyei," Rose said. Her voice was quiet, a whisper.

Dimitri looked at her, astonished. His heart was racing again. I wish we could have children, Roza. I really wish we could. Dimitri knew that secretly, Rose wanted to have a family. Sometimes, it wasn't so secret. Most of the time, however, she didn't say. Dimitri knew that she wanted a family, but there wasn't much they could do. He welcomed her into his family and they loved her, as if she had always been there with them.

"Rose, can you hear me?" Dimitri said again. He hoped that she could hear him and would wake up. It's been hours since they gave her the drug. "I need you to wake up, Rose."

Rose's eyes flicked under the lids. Dimitri could see that she was regaining consciousness, but she would feel horrible and would probably throw up from the toxins in her body.

"Rose, prosnut'sya."

Rose opened her eyes, but shut them again. It hurt for her to open her eyes and the room spun because of the heroin. Dimitri watched her, he could see her stomach start to heave. Rose tried to swallow the bile, but it was just too horrible. She sat up quickly and threw up, turning her back to Dimitri. Rose continued to throw up for quite some time. Whatever was left of the alcohol in her stomach stung her throat along with the stomach acid. Rose clutched her stomach, digging her nails into her skin through the cotton t-shirt she wore. Rose's breaths were short and hard, like she had been running. She whimpered and her eyelids threatened to seal shut again.

"Dimitri?" Rose choked. Her throat absolutely burned, dry and sore from the stomach acid. There was an awful taste in Rose's mouth and she was sure if she didn't eat or drink something, even brush her teeth, that it would just make her throw up more. She didn't know where Dimitri was, but she knew he was in the room with her. All Rose wanted to do at that time was clean herself up and forget everything.

Dimitri struggled against the twine, but it still wouldn't break. He could hear it rustle against his pant legs. "Slava bogu," he sighed with relief, but he knew that they were far from being able to get away from the house. To get away from Myanmar entirely.

"Dimitri, where are you?" Rose's voice was hoarse. She felt like she was going to choke on the air she breathed in. As Rose's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see faint shadows. There was a light bulb hanging from the ceiling, but it wasn't lit. Rose slowly turned to the left and her muscles cried out in agony and pain. She saw Dimitri's sitting outline, but she couldn't tell if he was sitting facing her or not.

Rose tried to kneel in order to bring herself to her feet, but her body seemed to not be functioning properly. Her legs quivered as she tried to maneuver them, so she gave up. Rose sat on the floor, unsure of what she could do.

If my legs can't support me, will my arms be able to? Rose was worried that she would never be able to move from her current position on the floor, but she had bigger worries, as well: Lissa. Dimitri. In her mind, Rose continued to call for help, but she wasn't sure if any sound was escaping her lips. She could hear her voice screaming for help, for anyone to help her and her lover, but no one answered.

"I can't stand up." Rose said, her voice was nowhere being back to normal. She coughed, but that hurt too. Rose could hear something rustling, she was afraid that it was a mouse. She wasn't necessarily afraid of them, but she wasn't fond of them either. Then Rose remembered that she was a Dhampir, and even if it was a rat, it wouldn't come near her.

Dimitri sighed and gave up once more. The twine was coming loose, but it wasn't loose enough to pull away from. Dimitri was at a loss for words. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. There was no possible way he could help her unless she found something to cut the twine away from his hands and ankles with first. Rose felt faint. Her world spun. She slowly laid down on the floor, on her side, just like people had told her to do when she was drunk and throwing up. Rose's vision blurred and tears brimmed her eyes. Her eyes rolled back into her head once more and she fainted.

Once again, Dimitri was alone in the darkness. They were no closer to hope. In fact, he was sure that they were farther away from hope. Dimitri considered how to get out, but he couldn't achieve anything. The room was dark, cold, and smelled of mildew. The air was damp, harsh to breathe in. Footsteps thudded down what sounded to be stairs and someone kicked the door into the room, the only light they had with them was a lit cigarette. Dimitri wasn't sure who it was. He tensed. He knew he couldn't fight and the chances that it was someone who wanted to help them were slim. As the footsteps stopped next to him, Dimitri's nose was filled with the unpleasant smell of cologne. His throat dried more, if that was at all possible.

The man that was soaked in cologne took out a gun from his belt, turned it in his hand so he held the barrel, and smacked Dimitri in the back of the head several times with the handle. The man then pulled Rose's ankle, her body drug noisily on the floor. He dragged her to the other side of the room, placed her in a chair and made her sit up right. The man took out a spoon, and a small plastic bag half-filled with heroin tar. He cooked it, took out a syringe, and fed it into Rose's arm, not caring where it ended up. He withdrew the needle and threw it all on the ground before walking out and shutting the darkness behind him.

The man made his way upstairs, into the light. The light which owned a haze from cigar smoke. The sound of cards shuffling rang out, as well as glasses clinking, and drunken slurs from poker players. He walked up to a table that Gazanfer sat at. A young woman, dazed, confused, and weak sat next to him. Her hair was long, the colour was faded, maybe a bad dye job. Her skin looked as if it could have been porcelain.

"I did what you asked." The man with the cologne said, he had a Southern accent. His cigarette still hanging from his mouth, it was mostly just the butt of the cigarette now, but he still sucked every last puff of tobacco out of it before the butt ended up burning his tongue and lips. He flicked the cigarette butt to the floor. "Where's my money?"

The young woman stared at him. She had wonderful green eyes, but they held nothing. Those green orbs didn't hold emotion, nor thoughts. Her arms were pricked with track marks and scabs. Under a long dress, her legs and feet were as well. She cocked her head to the side, hair falling over her shoulder as she did so.

Gazanfer wheezed and handed the man a few hundred dollars from his coat pocket, shooing him away. He turned to the lady and said, "Dear, would you like to make acquaintance with the new-comers?"

"Yes," she said. Her voice was airy, whimsical. It held no emotion, had no sincerity. "I would be much obliged to meet anyone you see of fondly. You're too kind, sir. I thank you with utmost sincerity. Shall I dress?"

Well, there seems to be a lot of Russian in this particular chapter. I actually don't speak Russian; therefore, I used Google Translate. It might not be the most correct thing in the world, but here are the translations:
Pozhaluista - please. Prosnut'sya - wake up. Pomogi mnye - help me. Ne umirayut - don't die. Pozhaluista ne umirai - please don't die. My mozhem imet' detyei - we can have children. Slava bogu - thank god.

I hope I don't have to revise this chapter since there's a lot of mention about drugs in it. I do not support drug use, just so we're all clear. I just think it adds an interesting element into the story since Gazanfer is a mob boss. Anyway, thanks for reading~

- Cy.