AN: Hey guys! It's been a long time, I know and I'm sorry about that! I'm trying to get back into this story because I think it has a lot of potential, so fingers crossed that I get some serious inspiration and soon. And you know what's really good for inspiration? Reading and reviewing! So please do! Thanks guys.
Disclaimer: All rights to Richelle Mead
Rose's Point Of View
How the hell did I end up here?
I kept asking myself that question as I paced the dingy motel room that vaguely resembled the one I was briefly in when I had run to Virginia. The last few hours kept replaying over and over in my head and I still couldn't wrap my brain around it. I mean, I literally knew how I physically got here but I had no idea why I was here.
I had no idea why Tasha was showering in the bathroom just several paces from me or why Dimitri and Adrian were getting food and other necessities.
This all seemed like a really horrible nightmare. Because if I was being completely honest with myself, I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I broke a murdering psycho out of jail - (why this is the second time I have broken a psycho out of jail) - I don't know why I was risking everything for this woman. I mean, she was vindictive and cruel and manipulative towards me and towards the people I cared about.
She tried to frame and have me killed for god's sake.
I should be calling the guardians and tying her up right about now, rather then lying to them and pacing the too small motel room. Clearly, I had lost my mind and that was the only explanation for why I was doing this. Adrian had proposed it and everyone knew he had lost his mind a long time ago and I guess I had lost mine. In my desperate attempt to get closer to Adrian and maybe even get him back, I had gone along with his completely insane plan which makes me insane by accomplice.
No, that wasn't why I did it. I sat down onto the bed and sighed deeply.
This wasn't easily categorized, we couldn't just label this right or wrong and forget about it. What Tasha did wasn't black and white, her choices and actions couldn't be put in front of a judge who could determine whether it was right or not. There were so many other existing factors, so many things that were happening in our world that led to her decisions.
And because of that, the choice to break her out wasn't black and white either. You couldn't just make up a list of the pros and cons then tally it up, it wasn't that easy. There are so many variables simultaneously happening, making it impossible to categorize as something as right or as wrong.
Everything was just so grey right now.
Besides, who was I to judge? I had done some pretty extreme things that can't be compartmentalized; some things that others may see as wrong but many would see as admirable. I had committed crimes and have blood on my hands, all for something I thought was for the greater good. I've ruined lives and futures for people, all to get what I wanted.
That could've easily been me in that jail cell.
So who was I to say anything?
The shower stopped and I found myself staring at the door, waiting for when she would walk out into the room. Because for as much as I've gone over this in my head, going back and forth between what's right and what's wrong, I had a feeling it would all change when I saw her. I knew that when I saw Tasha - actually saw her, not throwing her in my car during the heat of the moment saw her - that I would know what to do.
Because that's always how it was. I had these stupid inner battles with myself, going back and forth on what I should do and what's best for everyone but also right for me. It was a constant pingpong match of morals and values and protocol, always slamming back and forth in my head. But then there would be this moment of utter clarity and I would get this gut feeling - the ball would finally settle.
And I would know what I was doing.
I just had to wait for the gut instinct to kick in, the one that made me sure I was doing the right thing without a doubt. I just needed to feel it right now, so I waited anxiously, hoping that Tasha would trigger some type of feeling within me. And as I waited impatiently, I felt my mind drifting back to the last several hours, replaying the whole escape in my head.
Adrian's Point Of View
I watched from the car as Belikov argued back and forth with Rose…or more accurately, Rose argued with Belikov while he just stood there stoically. I gripped the seat with anticipation, knowing the outcome but still nervous. I knew that Belikov loved Rose too much to turn her in and he would go along with whatever crazy plan she was in the middle of.
I knew, because I had been in his position once before. I had walked in on Rose when she was in a god damn hotel room with Victor Dashkov.
And although I had been upset, although I had no idea why she was doing it - and even after I found out why - I went along with her. Why? Because perhaps her beauty is just too much or because I was just too weak. Maybe I was just too afraid of losing her that I would do anything to keep her, or maybe I was far crazier than even I realized then. But maybe, just maybe because when you go along with one of her wild schemes, you feel so together with her or because you feel like her knight in shinning armour.
Because when give the chance to be a hero to woman as brave and unflinching as Rose Hathaway, you don't think twice. Even if it turns out you're actually just a partner in crime/ accessory in treason/ collateral damage.
Which is why I wasn't surprised in the least when Belikov followed Rose and jumped into the back seat with me. I was on the other hand regretting not calling shotgun earlier in the escape.
Rose wasted no time in throwing the car into drive and gunning it across court to the front gates. We had already arranged the plan and having Belikov in the car wasn't going to change that, if I was being honest it would probably strengthen it because everyone in court knows the guardian dream team is Belikov and Hathaway.
As we approached the gates, Rose gave me a look in the rearview mirror that I knew meant it was time for my magic again. I needed to do exactly what I did before, I needed to make it appear as though this car was filled with guardians rather than an escaped fugitive and royal.
I tapped into spirit and felt it surge within me, taking control and filling the space of the car. Everyone else was oblivious to it, none of them could sense the magic dancing around and fluttering, wanting to be used. But I could feel how it sparked with lively anticipation, how it ebbed and flowed with my mind and was willing to work.
And for a second, everything actually seemed like it was going to be okay.
This fast paced, completely insane jail break seemed like worlds away. All of the problems here at court, back in Palm Springs and even with my family didn't seem to matter anymore. The heartbreaking pain of Rose and Belikov didn't even seem to sting anymore and the fear of insanity ceased to exist. Everything in this moment felt alright.
It seemed like I could conquer the world in that second, that we might actually be able to pull this off without a hinge. I kept that feeling going as we approached the gate and the guardians working quickly peered into our car, squinting slightly at Tasha and I but ultimately shrugging us off. They couldn't immediately see an escaped fugitive which gave us the go ahead, they didn't have time to waste on unfamiliar faces.
Rose slammed on the gas once we were given the clear, swerving onto the road and aiming to get as much distance between us and the rest of court as possible. Once she did that I let the magic evaporate and that tranquil feeling disappeared along with it, replaced with a feeling of heavy dread. Using my magic like that cost something and the price was growing steep.
The madness that seemed to be following me like a shadow set in, latching on to my brain and winding around like weeds. I leaned my head against the cool window and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the pain of the thorns piercing my mind and puncturing my thoughts. It was practically unbearable but I tried to just grit my teeth and hold on, hoping that this insufferable growing of this plant called insanity would end.
But it was strong, it seemed to gather strength every time it assaulted my mind, like it fed on my instability. And with it's strength it liked to dig through my memories and distort my brain, taking my thoughts and twisting them violently.
Flashes of people and events assaulted my brain, things that I locked away in the darkest corners of my mind and hoped to never see again had been resurrected. The weeds had somehow dug deep and pulled them into the light, wanting to wreak havoc.
Childhood memories had filled my vision, slightly blurry and flickering.
I was standing there in an uncomfortable suit, pulling on the tie as my mother's soothing hands smoothed my hair. I was at some party for my aunt, one filled with older moroi dripping in diamonds and men with amber in their hands. They were all talking and laughing about something I didn't understand, something that I wanted to listen in on.
So that's exactly what I did, I tried to charm everyone with my eight year old charisma. Capturing the crowd at a young age and making people laugh and smile, having them pat my head or shake my hand, telling my mother I was the cutest thing they had ever seen.
Of course, that ended quickly when I felt a tug on my arm and I was suddenly being dragged from the room. I looked down at the arm squeezing me tightly enough that there would be a hand print lift on my upper arm for almost two weeks and followed the arm up to my father, who pulled me outside into the morning light.
"Dad, you're hurting me!" I cried, struggling to free myself from his grip. He eventually let go after he spun me around to face him, his eyes blazing mad as he brushed off his suit, like I had somehow wrinkled it.
"Well how else was I supposed to get you out of there, before you made even more of a fool out of this family." He asked with his voice sharp, scrunching up his nose as he looked down at me, making me want to sink into the ground and blend into the grass.
"I-I was just trying to be funny." I murmured, looking down at my shoes which had been perfectly shined for this occasion, if I looked hard enough I could almost see my reflection in the black patent.
"You're not funny, Adrian." My father told me, completely deadpanned.
"Nathan!" My mother's high pitched voice squeaked from the distance and I could hear her moving towards us. I felt her hands on my shoulder, squeezing tightly as her and my father exchanged words that ended with him stomping back inside and leaving us out here. I could tell my mother was upset, could feel her hands shaking slightly as she stood there, not knowing exactly what to do like I was doing.
"Adrian?" The accented voice broke me away from my memory, pulling me back into the car and the winding road ahead of us. I looked over to see Belikov watching me, his eyes assessing my face like any guardian would.
"Yeah?" I asked, my voice sounding like sandpaper scraping against my throat.
"Nothing." He murmured, turning back to the front and beginning to talk logistics with Rose, while I just faded back into oblivion.
Rose's Point Of View
"Why'd you do it?" She asked, her crystal eyes were searching my face for some hint as to why I had done it. Tasha wanted to know why I had risked my future, my career and my life to break her from prison and moments ago I had been wondering the exact thing. Why had I done something so huge for someone who wouldn't have cared had I taken her sentence - why did I save someone who wouldn't bother saving me.
"Because it was the right thing to do. Maybe not in the eyes of the justice system or the followers of the late queen, but to our family it was the right thing to do." I explained, partially stumbling onto the realization myself. I couldn't pigeon hole what was happening right now, all I know is that I had done the right thing for the people involved and that's all that mattered. "Your death would break everyone, would strain all the relationships we fought so hard to keep. If you died then all of the fighting and sacrifices meant nothing, because everything would crumble. That's why I did it."
"Yours would have too, probably more than mind." She reasoned, curling onto the bed and wrapping the towel from around her wet hair. I watched as she ran her fingers through her shortened hair, having chopped it just below her chin because dying it didn't seem like an option with her raven hair. Concealing Tasha's identity would probably be the hardest part of getting her out of the country, just because she had such distinct features like her hair and her scars.
"Well, luckily I had some people break me out and clear my name before it came to that." I shrugged, tossing her a pair of jeans and a sweater. "And although me can't clear your name, we can at least get get you out."
I continued to busy myself with the supplies that we had brought with us, trying not to make eye contact with her because I didn't want to encourage this conversation. I knew that we would eventually have to get into the messy details of the situation we were in and that confrontation was inevitable but I just wished that Dimitri and Adrian were here for it too.
After all, this was about them too. She had completely turned their lives upside down too, killing the people that they loved or roping them in to her elaborate scheme, fooling them into believing she was a completely different person.
But they weren't here and Tasha wanted to talk. I guess it made sense that she wanted to speak to me, since it effected me more. I was directly involved in Tasha's plan and probably would've died for her crime had it not been for my friends. But I guess the question was: did Tasha still feel that way towards me? Did she still feel so strongly against my relationship with Dimitri that she would try to hurt me again? Not that she would even have to worry about my relationship with him since it was so broken but I doubted I would tell her that. Something tells me she might go a little insane if she knew that she had gotten herself locked up trying to get Dimitri and now he was finally (almost) available - if I ever got the courage to break it off.
"I'm sorry, you know." She told me abruptly, maybe reading my mind. "I do feel horrible about what I did to you, how you could've died for something that I did. I was just too caught up in everything to really think rationally. All I knew was that if anything was going to get done and if our people were ever going to change then we needed a new leader and I wasn't going to wait another fifty years for a new monarch to be placed on the throne - especially since that successor would probably have the same view points as Tatiana."
"Tatiana shared our view points, Tasha." I told her, turning around to face her head on and hoping that she didn't singe my hair off if things got too heated. "She wanted moroi to get involved, she wanted them to use their magic and fight. She didn't want dhampirs going into battle at sixteen but she was just placating the radical moroi. Tatiana was trying to do the right thing." I explained, surprising myself at how much I was standing up for the late queen. She had been a complete bitch to me but I knew after her death, that she had been trying to do the right thing for her people.
"I know that now. But at the time all I knew is that we were on the brink of a revolution." Tasha nodded, closing her eyes as she spoke. "All I knew was that our world was making decisions that was going to change the fate of the moroi future, that would either make or break us as a civilization. I knew that we needed to start fighting or we would become extinct, that we would be hunted down and slaughtered or change ourselves. I knew that we needed to change and that we needed a new leader at the base of this uprising. Knowing all of this now and looking back on it, I am filled with so much remorse at how it happened but I don't feel guilty for why I did it."
"Do you feel guilty for all the people you hurt? For all the people that you betrayed?" I asked, crossing my arms as I did so. My voice was sharper than I intended but I didn't care, we had started this conversation and I wasn't going to hold back on how I felt. I wanted to know the truth and there was no going back.
"Of course I do." She sat up, her eyes boring into mine. "I never meant to hurt anyone when I started this, when I began fighting for what I thought was right. But somewhere along the line I began losing hope, I watched as bad people continued to do bad things and get what they wanted. I sat there and watched my voice be silenced by others who had nothing of worth to say and I knew that if I ever wanted to be heard, I had to make them listen."
"So start a petition." I snorted, unable to hold back. I guess I was a little sensitive about everything, I may have broke her out and was helping her run but I didn't completely forgive her for trying to have me killed. I was doing this - was saving her - to save everyone else the heartbreak of her death.
"If I could change things then I would, Rose. I would go back and take back everything I did, including trying to frame you for the murder. It wasn't right and I know that, I was prepared to die for that but I can't go back and change things. They happened and now I can only move forward and ask for understanding, because I know that forgiveness is too much sometimes."
I thought about what Tasha was saying, about how she had acted for the better of our people like she was some type of martyr. I wanted to just shrug it all off, put her on a plane and forget about all of this. I wanted to rescue her and then forget about everything she has done, all of the lives she almost destroyed in her quest for a revolution. But then I thought about how many people had probably thought that about me at some point.
I had acted recklessly in my attempts to do what was right, breaking rules and ruining futures to do what I thought was moral. I had lied, cheated, broken in and out of prisons, flown across counties, committed treason and pulled people into my schemes - all in my quest to do what was right in my eyes. I had done the crazy and unthinkable for my revolutions, playing the martyr role perfectly.
And all Tasha was asking for was understanding, not to be forgiven or to have me forget about everything. She just wanted me to level and say that I knew where she was coming from, that I fathom what was going on her mind when she killed the queen and framed me for it.
I understood.