Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Academy, Richelle Mead does.
DPOV:
I walked over to the Academy's private jet, hitching my duffel bag higher onto my shoulder. I felt a heavy weight rest on my shoulders. It was like I was suffocating, a crushing force squeezing my lungs together. Once I reached the jet, I stood off to the side as it was being prepared for take off.
I was standing there, simply breathing, when I heard running foot steps come up to me. I looked up to see Rose running towards me. I looked at her puzzled.
"Rose, what are you doing?" I asked, my voice rough, as she skidded to a stop beside me.
"I'm coming with you," She huffed out.
I looked at her blankly. "Why?"
She just stared at me for a moment. "My mom," she finally answered.
I turned away, clenching my jaw. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice raw.
"It's okay," she said softly. "It wasn't your fault."
I shook my head. "If I had been there – "
"You would have died right along with him," Rose interrupted me.
I shook my head again, not answering. The pilot called out to board the plane, and I started walking onto it. Several other people were going too, almost all of which were Royals, hence the use of the jet. I sat in an empty seat in the back, away from everybody. I felt like hell. I'd been a mess since the phone call. I couldn't help but think it was my fault.
As I sat staring out the window, I felt someone sit down a seat away from me. After a few minutes, they put there hand on my arm. I spun around in shock.
Now, the fact that someone did that didn't shock me. It didn't really bother me. The thing that had shocked me was who's hand it was. Actually, it wasn't even that. It was the feeling of the hand on my arm that made me jerk around.
Sitting there, looking like she was seconds away from either crying, screaming, or throwing up, or even all three, was Rose. Her eyes were wide open with fear, she had sweat on her forehead, she was sitting as far away from me as physically possible, and yet...she had her hand on my arm in a comforting manor.
Rose looked up at me anxiously, asking with her eyes if I was okay. This made me feel lower than the lowest scum. Here I was, wallowing in self pity, while my best friend was dead, about to be six feet under, and this goddess of a girl, afraid of getting close to men, pregnant, mostly likely mourning the fact that her mother was in a coma, and she was comforting me. I was pathetic.
Rose stared into my eyes, her body tense, frozen, but her eyes spoke legions. With the barest pressure, she squeezed my arm.
"It's alright," she said in a raspy whisper. I tried to give her a smile.
"You don't have to do that Roza," I murmured. I felt my forehead crease with concern. I didn't want her to hurt herself for me.
She just shook her head and squeezed my arm again, trying to scoot further away.
"I'll be fine." this came out from gritted teeth, and I could tell it took everything in her not to run away screaming, or not burst into tears.
As I watched her struggle, a warm feeling filled my chest. I was touched that she cared enough to comfort me even when it caused her such and unsavory reaction. I wanted to do something in return, anything, but settled for relaxing my arm, and shifting away, so now there was about two feet between us, the only part of our bodies that were close were my arm and her hand.
As we flew to Court, I made myself the promise that I would never let anything happen to my charge. No matter what. The fact the my charge was also Rose's best friend just made me that much more protective.
The entire plane ride Rose kept her hand on my arm. After about an hour, she started to relax slightly. By the end, while she wasn't totally relaxed, she was no longer tense, or pale, and she even looked mildly happy. The sight of her happiness lifted my spirits slightly. I was glad she wasn't miserable.
The happy feelings all but vanished as we walked into Court. It was an amazing place, one I enjoyed exploring, but the fact that I was here for Ivan's funeral kind of put a damper on things. Rose veered off from the rest of the groups as we made our way toward guest housing to stay there until the funeral.
"Rose!" I caught up to her, staying the standard distance away. "Where are you going?"
"To see my mom," she said quietly, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.
"Oh," I said softly.
She hesitated, then looked up at me. "What – what exactly happened? I mean, all I really know is there was a Strigoi attack, Ivan died, and my mom is in a comma. You don't have to tell me right now, I was just wonder," she added hurriedly.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly, recalling what my friend Darius told me. "There was a Strigoi attack," I began, opening my eyes to look at her. "It was just the three of them, Ivan, Janine, and his other guardian, Lance. 5 Strigoi attacked, Lance killed one, but the other one snuck up and snapped his neck. Janine killed two of the Strigoi, but the last two were old, and strong. They attacked her together, and one of them drank her blood until she passed out. By the time more guardians got there, it was too late to save Ivan, and they barely managed to get Janine to the clinic." I took another deep breath as I finished the story.
Rose stayed quiet, but I could see she was trying not to cry. She now into her second trimester. I was astonished that she wasn't freaking out right now, but if I learned anything in the past couple of months it was that Rose was a lot stronger than anybody gave her credit.
We reached the infirmary in silence. The receptionist looked up at us expectantly.
"I – I'm here to see Janine Hathaway," Rose stumbled out, barely keeping her composure.
The receptionist's eyes widened. "Oh, are you her daughter?"
Rose nodded, and sniffled a little bit.
The receptionist's face softened. "Go on in, honey, it's room 16."
Rose nodded again, and looked at her gratefully. She looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes questioning. Wordlessly, I followed her.
Once we reached the room, Rose finally broke down at the sight of her mother. I myself faltered at the sight before me.
Janine Hathaway, strong, fierce Janine Hathaway, was laying amongst wires and needles, machines surrounding her. Her usual large presents, which always compensated for her lack of height, was missing, showing exactly how small she was. She was deathly pale, her bright red hair a jolt of color against the purest white. It was the only color in the whole room, which was soft greens, and bright whites. One monitor showed her heartbeat, she had an IV drip, and that was the extent of my hospital knowledge. Rose had sank down where she was in the middle of the room when she caught sight of her mother, but she now stood up and walked over to her bedside.
Rose sat down on the chair by the bed, holding her mother's hand tightly in her own, her knuckles turning white with the pressure. Silent tears streaked down her face. Her lips trembled. My heart broke at the sight of her. Slowly, I walked over and grabbed a chair that had been sitting by the wall and set it down by the foot of the bed, and looked at Roza.
RPOV:
Seeing my mother like this, tiny, helpless, shattered me. I always thought that she was invincible, that no matter what, I would always have her. That's what made being mad at her so easy.
But now there was a chance that I could never see her again, never talk to her again, never see her open her eyes. And that thought sacred the hell out of me. It made me shake with fear, and for the first time in my life pray. Pray to God, or whoever was up there, to let her live, to at least give me the chance to say I love you and good bye. Even, I forgive you. I suddenly realized how petty it was for me to blame my rape on her. This sudden epiphany came with painful clarity; I had wasted the last time I saw her, possibly the last time I will ever see her, blaming her for something completely out of my control. There was no way she could have known that he was raping me. She herself said she was used to hearing sex sounds coming from his room, and thought that's all there was. She had no idea it was me. She had no idea that the cries were cries for help, not of pleasure. And when I had got out of his room, I simply shut everyone out. No one was allowed into my room. I didn't come out. By the time I did, a week after, the physical wounds were all but healed, he was normal, and it was too late to stop the pregnancy without hurting the baby.
My mother was so confused when I shut her out, no when I openly snubbed her. She was hurt, I could see that much, but it made me feel better. I was glad she was hurting, glad she felt at least a fraction of what I felt.
It just got worse when I found out I was pregnant. I somehow put the blame on her, saying if she had stopped it when she had the chance, none of this would have happened.
How wrong I was. I wished now that I could take all of it back, every word. I wished I could take all of it back and replace it with words of love and how wonderful of a mother she was, and how glad I was that she was there for me. I vowed that if she ever woke up, my last words to her would be I love you, no matter how angry I was.
I looked up at Dimitri to find his eyes burning into mine. I could see that it physically hurt him to not comfort me, and actually needed the comfort. So I stretched out my hand, and he met me halfway. Our fingers twined together, resting on the hospital bed. I tensed slightly, but as time went on, I relaxed. A warm feeling spread throughout my body, originating at the point of contact with Dimitri's hand. It felt like tiny shocks traveling up and down my arm, going to the rest of my body. It helped calm me, at the same time as it made my heart pound, and my breathing speed up. Looking at Dimitri, I could see he was feeling the same thing as me. He had a look of wonder which he was desperately trying to cover up, but I could read him like a book. I could see at exactly what point he realized that hiding his emotion was pointless with only me in the room because he dropped his guardian mask and just looked at me, speaking with his eyes.
We stayed that way, hands linked, gazing into each others eyes, until it was time for Ivan's funeral.
A/N: yup, I killed Ivan. I'm sorry, I felt like he was a necessary sacrifice. Next chapter, Rose's mom wakes up, or dies, not sure which just yet :P and in a couple more you get to meet the rapist! Yay! What do you think of Dimitri moving in with Rose once she's about 5-6 months along? You know, to make sure she's okay ;) after she's totally comfortable, of course. Thank you all for you reviews! I've never had that many reviews in such a short time, or for one chapter! Thank you so much, you totally made my day! My goal now is to get 200 reviews by my birthday, May 10. maybe you could help me get there? ;) check out my new story, btw!