Where was she, was the first question that popped into her foggy mind, as it awoke after so much unconsciousness; but as it became clearer her feelings returned to her, she felt extremely comfortable and warm, something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Was this death, was the second question that popped into her mind, no it couldn't be, she answered to herself, despite being comfortable and warm, the void left by their deads, felt as big and as black as ever.

The injuries could still be felt every time she breathed, despite the pain having seemingly vanished into nothing; but maybe what she was feeling were the scars on her chest, left by the bayonets, and also her breath was blocked by the new bandages around her chest, but she recognized, that those weren't the ones she loosely and badly put on herself, instead this time they were put on her with great care, but also correctly.

Her eyes were still closed, mainly because she was tired and they felt very heavy, but also because of a darker reason, she didn't know what to expect if she opened them, and she was scared, something she rarely experiences, after all, she was the brave sister, but the fear of the unknown was much stronger than her courage; where was she? Would she be in some house with white painted windows and a scary-looking guard frowning angrily at her, or maybe even Yurovsky himself, ready to finish the job; she shuddered at the thought, or maybe someone had found her and had helped her without knowing who she truly was, and maybe when he will recognize her, he'll immediately tell the Soviets.

She was drowning in her fear now, possible scenarios coming into her mind each worse than the other; she was even trembling, despite the warmness that she felt, which now seemed like fire around her, ready to involve and consume her; the tight bandages now feeling even tighter, making her take small fast breaths, and her eyes firmly shut for the fear; she was falling into the darkness, the same darkness she was falling when she was in the train, that was the death of the inside, of the person, of the soul; almost like her mother, who was half-dead, but still lived thanks to her family, but who would be there for her this time? Nobody, she was alone, she'll end up in a worse state than her mother, she won't be waiting for death, she'll instead call it, sing for it to come to her; her body would crave it; if the soul was already gone, why wait for death to catch up to her?

She needed to escape from this mental prison, but with every step she took, walls were always around her, black as coal, like death; at every turn, many doors, that each lead to an endless corridor; at every run walls and walls, nothing to be seen in the distance or heard; a deafening silence all around her, she could not even hear herself, every word, screams was only a movement of her lips, her heavy steps on the bricks as soft as silk; she was going mad, she could feel it, her sanity, her persona slipping from her grasp like water and she couldn't stop it.

"Anya"

An impersonal voice said, she couldn't understand who had spoken; the silence was now gone, replaced by the endless echo of a name, her name; the water slipping from her grasp had stopped, instead, she was now hit by the water itself, that rather than going down, was returning to her, hitting her in the face, and it felt dead and coldly apathetic; worst of all, it represented her.

"Anastasia, Anastasia"

The voice, now familiar to her, said repeatedly; her prison was crumbling, cracks on the walls were forming, pieces coming down, and now she could see a light at the end of the tunnel; she ran and ran as fast as she could towards it, outstretching her hand as much as the could, trying to grasp the growing light, that was growing bigger and bigger until it engulfed her.

Big dark brown eyes, looking at her, boring into her soul; she recognized them, they were Dmitry's eyes, looking worriedly at her; with his hand grasping her shoulder, which had been shaking her; now past emotions rushing back to her, in one big wave, and she could not contain herself, in an instant she was hugging his neck tightly and in the next, she broke down, rivers were coming from her eyes as she cried in the crock of his neck, and he rather than push her back, welcomed her and hugged her back, not as tightly, as to not harm her, but with enough strength to make her understand that he will never let her go; his hand caressing her hair and other running soothing circles on her back; while he murmured to her.

"You're safe, you're alive" he murmured kissing her temple, "nobody is going to harm you, you're safe, it's over now"

She sobbed uncontrollably, now that she can; she is now safe, nothing can reach her here, all of the bottled-up feelings, coming out, and she is not stopping them; she lets go, let every tear flow, every sob, wail, moan, and every scream come out from her mouth.

"Let it all out, you're safe"

Dmitry stops his mantra only for a second, just enough to nod with his head at Lily, Vlad, and Nikolai; telling them that he has the situation under control and that they need some privacy; they complied with his request, and left quietly the house and quietly shut the door quietly behind them; Dmitry's eyes follow them until he could no longer see them.

He then turned his head and buried it, into her hair, and kissed her head, while she cried, with loud, ugly sobs that wretched her body; he let her cry until she stopped exhausted, but relaxed; then he removed her from the crock of his neck, and placed her on the sofa, he kneeled in front of her; both his hands were caressing her face; one cupping her cheek, while the other was lightly running over her scar, that runs between her forehead and her hair, likely caused by a bullet, a bullet that could have easily killed her, if it had gone a few centimeters left; he cannot think of that, he has to be thankful that she has survived; he kisses her forehead now, and she smiles softly, it is could be barely seen, but he knows that she has smiled.

"I'm sorry"

It's the first thing he says, and it startles her what he has said, but the question dies on her lips; he has whispers it was almost like he was confessing a sin; he doesn't look at her either, if she did she would be able to see the tears; he has now retired from her into his shell, hands on his sides; he was looking at the wooden floor, his dark brown hair now falling and covering his face; she simply takes her hand, raises his head, and removes his hair from his face; but he still isn't looking at her, at this makes her roll her eyes.

"If you are going to apologize at least let me know for what," she said with disbelief and little sarcasm, and a ton of insolence; now appearing like the old Anastasia.

"Well," he started, but he stopped himself, how could he confess his sin, to her; should he lie? No, he wasn't a coward, even if it meant that he could lose her forever; but she was never his, to begin with, he was never meant to be with her; their little time together was just a mistake, after all, everything between them was a mistake, a beautiful one, but one nonetheless; there was no other way, he had to say it, he would never be able to look at the mirror ever again, and it would be completely dishonest and unrespectful in her regards.

"I am to blame for their deaths," he said, with his voice cracking.

"But you weren't there," she said confused, blinking rapidly; what the hell was he saying?

"And that's the problem," he said, almost dropping to the ground, with his hands now on his face covering his eyes; "when I heard, that you all were about to be killed, I ran towards the house, but I was too late, I'm sorry, if I had known about that earlier, I could have saved them, I'm asking for your forgiveness"

She didn't answer then and there, now looking at him coldly, she had been stunned, but now that feeling was gone, replaced by this icy coldness; he took this coldness for her answer, he understood the decision, it was the right one; outside he might look emotionless, but inside he wished that the ground could swallow him whole and end his suffering, it felt like a thousand daggers were all hitting him at his heart all at once; he rose from the ground and went for the door, he wanted to run as far away as possible; but as he outstretched his hand to open the door, he was stopped by her voice, frozing him on the spot.

"It's not to me, you should apologize" she sadly said, with much bitterness.

"What?" He said confusedly, turning from the door, and looking at her sad eyes, who now was looking at the wooden roof.

"You should apologize to them, I" she snorted, hiding what sounded like a sob, "I... I never mattered in the end"

"What are you saying, you were important, you are important," he said approaching her.

She snorted, laughed sadly, and looked at him as if he was crazy; "If I had not existed it wouldn't have changed a thing; I was just a disappointment, even my parents thought that; I wasn't as smart as Olga, as beautiful as Tatiana, as kind or even as beautiful as Maria, and worst of all I wasn't a male, and I wasn't even Alexei's favorite sister, I wasn't good at school, I wasn't all that loved by my family, I was disrespectful, and as soon as Alexei was born, I didnt matter that much to many; I was just useless, I am useless, I may be useful to make a political marriage, to bear some children and then be forgotten by the world" she now laughed almost histerically, "Hell, if things had gone as I had hoped and I had become an actress in America, I would have been forgotten in just a second, or maybe I would be seen as what I truly was, the greatest disappointment of the Romanov family, I am nothing, I should have been killed down there and somebody else should have survived, everyone in my family is more important or useful than me."

"That's not true," he stated, contradicting her, knowing full well how wrong she was.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," she shouted stubbornly with fresh tears in her eyes.

"You're delusional, and you know it" he shouted back.

"How dare you" she shouted at him, raising from the couch, and glaring at him, despite hissing from the pain.

"I know what I am saying," he said now standing beside her, "I have known you for nine years or more, and believe me, when I say that it thanks to you, that I am here, that many soldiers relied on me, that I have a family"

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly now, her anger had vanished.

"When you had found me, on the streets; I was lost, hell I was even contemplating suicide, have you forgotten how we met?"

"What are you doing?" A small Anastasia demanded angrily, with her hands on her hips, frowning at the boy in front of her.

"What does it look like, little flower?" He answered rudely, shrugging, and placed his dirty hand in his pockets, which were more open than closed.

"Well, is this the way of treating someone, where are your manners?" She shouted at him, pointing her finger at him.

"Manners" he repeated sarcastically, "where the hell do you come from? This is not a place for games, child"

"I am not a child" she shouted at him, now angrier than ever, "well you aren't much older than me"

"I stopped counting that, a long time ago" he answered annoyed, turning his back on her, and walking away. "And don't worry about calling the police or the cossacks, they would never come here for a failed pickpocketing, this is just a forgotten road"

"Well they should, they have to enforce the law," she said, following his long strides, and huffing when she couldn't match his speed.

Unexpectedly he turned to face her and she hit him in the chest, falling on the dirty road; he offered his hand to her, she accepted it gracefully, keeping her head high.

"Where are you from? Where are your parents?" He asked now kindly, appearing nothing like the rude street rat he was.

"Is this a sort of trap?" She demanded, now less angry than before, it was almost scarier to see him act kindly to her than rudely.

"Listen" he sighed, "it is clear that you have a family; I'm not doing this for money or glory, I'll have no use for them, at least let me help someone for the last time"

"I remember, how could I ever forget, you taught me the real world; from that day we were best friends" she answered shocked that he could think that she could have forgotten that.

"You have misunderstood me, I'm not talking about what happened, I'm talking about the fact that you helped me, when I needed it the most, you thought and gave me so much," he said, still amazed by what had happened between them.

"I have done nothing for you," she said, not understanding what she had done to help him so much.

"But you have, you saved me and so many; you are important, much more than you know," he said, returning to his knees, and grasping her hands.

"What have I done for you?" She said, holding his hands.

"You living, breathing and just being you," he said, kissing her hand, "your sisters or brother may be more clever or beautiful than you, but unlike them, you live fully; you willingly came out of your sheltered world, ventured into the unknown; you could have lived a life of luxuries and yet you didn't want that, you always wanted more, you wanted to live this life as much as you could, you wanted to live fully, when they accepted everything that was thrust upon them, you rebelled, when you saw injustice made on you, you fought back; and not just this, but also your laugher is the most contagious thing in the world, you know how to make even the most straight-faced people laugh, you were the one who made everyone in the house laugh, you even made the tsarina and the big pair, smile and even laugh, even when you were in the house"

"You make your path, you don't follow traditions or set courses because you have to, you choose what to respect and whatnot, and you defy the most important tradition in the higher classes, as we both know that you would rather die than mary some duke and just bear children and then be forgotten, you want more out of your life than fulfilling somebody's dream for you, have I been wrong in what I said?"

She swallowed and shook her head, "you know me better than I do" she said smiling softly, "but what did I do for you?"

"You came into the dirtiest road, risking your life, and found somebody who was a ghost, as nobody knows that he exists, and you gave him a reason for living when he didn't have one and you gave him a family when he was alone; you taught me that until death embraced us, we can live fully as if we have to relive this life over and over again, you taught me to never surrender without a fight, to never give up even in the direst situations, to see the glass always half full" he was smiling at her now, "when my battalion was surrounded, it was your memory and your lessons that inspired me, and through them, I inspired my men, I gave them leadership and guided them to victory; many of the medals that I have is because you gave me the motivation to go on, to fight, I fought for you, for people like you, people who have dreams and who are willing to make them a reality"

"Thank you," she said quietly, it was almost like a whisper.

They stayed like this for quite some time, his face a few inches from her, they could feel each other's hot breaths, eyes looking at their slightly open lips; they began to drift towards each other, lips almost meeting each other, smaller breath as the reunion began to unfold.

"I'm sorry," she said retreating from him completely; crying and sobbing, "I don't know, I'm not sure I love you, I... I... I can't"

This was his hardest pill to swallow, to be rejected when he almost declared his love for her; but as he remembered she was never his, and she'll never be.

"Okay," he said voice and face emotionless, "you should sleep now, you need to rest", he removed his hands from her, fixed her blankets, and rose from the ground; he could see her eyes pleading to not leave her alone, but he couldn't bring himself to be so near her; this hurt more than bullets or gas, this cut deep into his heart, and was the final nail for his hearts coffin; he'll forever be in love with her, that's something he'll never be able to change, he'll have to learn to live with; he seated on the armchair and waited until she fell asleep.

"Dmitry, please talk to me" she begged, maybe she had been wrong, but she couldn't love and enjoy life when she had recently lost the people she loved; she'd gave everything to know what he was thinking, what was going on behind those iron mask.

They had this unspoken love, even when they had been a couple, they never truly professed love to each other, they were never able to speak freely about their feelings, he was certainly in love but wasn't able to say it, and she didn't yet understand that it was love; but without knowing she had broken what little did they have.

"You need to sleep," he said emotionless, he then took the nearest book and began reading it; she understood that it was the end of their conversation. To the out looker, he may seem unkind, but he wasn't and Anastasia understood that, Dmitry was never good at expressing his feelings, and like now rather than express them he would bottle them up, closing off from everybody.

He waited until she fell asleep before going outside the house, the sun was setting; Vlad, Lily, and Nikolai were at the table drinking tea, he could see that they were curious about what had happened, but his expression was enough to tell that he didn't want to speak, and they understood and respected that.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Asked Vlad, indicating the seat in front of him, and preparing a cup of tea.

"No, thanks," Dmitry said shaking his head, "I am going out for a drink", he descended from the stairs, and began going to the city, but he was stopped by Lily.

"You're going out?" Lily said to him, raising from his seat, "Vlad, go with him" she then said to her husband, making him stand up.

"No, I need to think," Dmitry responded bowing his head, "I want to be alone for some time"

"Lily," Vlad said to his wife, "let him go, you can think better if you are alone, please Lily understand him"

She didn't respond, she knew when to back down, but her mother's instincts couldn't be ignored; "Please, don't drink too much, and be careful" she pleaded with him, hoping for a promise.

Dmitry nodded, but didn't speak a word; he then left for the first tavern in the city; he didn't make a promise, because he knew that he was going to break it, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that Vlad and Nikolai hadn't seen through this, by midnight they'll take him from whichever road he is in, and take him home.

While outside the house Dmitry was dealing with his loss, inside the house Anastasia too was dealing with her loss; she faked being asleep and as soon as he was out of the door, she returned to her tears, a hand covering her mouth and sobs. Both of them were dealing with a loss, that could be solved when feelings will be shared, and that was going to happen, but would it go right to wrong?

Hello, there; firstly thank you for reading this chapter and I hope that you liked it; so basically we have locket lovers, Anya is still shaken, and Dmitry is don't know how to express feelings, and in the next chapter we'll see what happens between them, thanks and bye-bye.