Instinct.

After so many years of not being a cop in the field I thought at some point whatever instinct I developed would fade away and disappear but it's still there.

I wonder if it'll ever go away, if I'll ever be so unaware of all the danger in the world. Or maybe as the years go by it'll only worsen. If I get married, if I have children, if my closest family and friends start families of their own, I imagine I'll always worry. I'll always expect the worse and I'll never live in the blissfully unaware world that most people live in.

And the thing about instinct is that as much as I have a dreaded feeling that something bad is going to happen, that something isn't right, I won't know what it is until it's too late.

I can't explain it but it's just a bad feeling I have.

Maybe it's all the time I've spent lately worrying and thinking about Viktoria, Rose, and Lissa, hoping they make it out from under this dark cloud of trouble their under and can live relatively normal lives again. Maybe it's all the time I've spent thinking about my mother, how many hours she's been spending working because when she worries and doesn't know what to do, she tends to over work herself. Maybe it's my worrying about Karolina, Sonya, Paul, Zoya, and Christian; it's me worrying about if my friendship with Tasha will be the same. I worry about business at the studio and about Stan putting his job on the line by handling this case.

Worry has become my middle name: Dimitri Worrywart Belikov.

My cellphone vibrates across my kitchen counter, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I look at the screen and I'm a little surprised to see Lissa calling. It's not like we're not friends or anything and I've driven her to one of her doctor's appointments once but we usually only talk when Christian or Rose is around. Honestly, that she's calling is a little unnerving. I doubt it's a friendship call. The fact that she's calling me at all only tells me something is wrong.

"Lissa?" I answer, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. "Is everything alright?"

"Is Rose with you? Have you seen or talked to her?"

That moment when your instinct becomes more of a reality, when all the feelings that were telling you something bad is going to happen prove right, is one of the worst moments in the world.

Before I can even think to answer her, she rapidly tells me that Rose left the house earlier to do some shopping; she hasn't come back yet and isn't answering her phone.

"...and I keep calling Christian but he isn't answering either. He was on his way over here but I haven't heard anything from him," she explained.

I'm already up, pulling on my coat, grabbing my keys and heading for the door.

"I haven't talked to either of them. Where exactly did Rose say she was going?"

"I don't know. She jut said she was going into town," she tells me, sounding distressed and on the verge of hysterics. "That was hours ago and town is not that far away."

"Why the hell didn't she call me if she needed a ride," I murmur to myself but I'm sure Lissa can hear me. "You keep trying to call Christian. His class is probably running late and we're just worrying for nothing," I try to assure both her and myself but without success I'm sure.

Lissa agrees to keep trying to get a hold of Christian. "What about Rose?"

I climb into my truck and make a hazardous turn out into the street, screeching down the road. "I'm going to look in town. Maybe she's stuck because of the snow storm or something."

"Okay." Just when I'm about to hang up, disconnecting the call, Lissa says my name. "Please find her. I j-just...I just need her to be okay. She has to be."

"Of course. I'll find her Lissa. Just keep trying Christian's cell. And try not to worry too much," I add knowing full well that we'll do nothing but worry until we find them.

I hope that we're just being paranoid. Maybe we're just overreacting and there are simple explanations for why we can't find either of them. It's doubtful though. I want nothing more than to find both Christian and Rose safe and sound and we'll all laugh about how freaked out Lissa and I were. My instincts are telling me otherwise. My instincts are telling me that something is wrong and that when I find them, if I find them, I'm not going to like what I see.

After checking every open store in town and asking around, I still haven't found Rose and Lissa has called me twice to tell me that Christian still isn't answering.

The second time she called, she was already sobbing and by the time I told her I still hadn't found Rose, she was bawling.

"I'm going to call Stan and let him know what's going on. I'm on my way to the house now so just stay there and wait for me, okay?"

She sniffles and I imagine she's nodding her head from the rustling I hear against the phone. "Okay," she finally says aloud. I only wanted to call Stan as a last resort. Calling him would mean something serious is wrong. If I called him and he happened to know where Rose and Christian were, I knew that most likely it wouldn't be a good situation. The turnout would be something terrible. I just knew it.

Halfway to Rose's house, I ignore the mix of worry and dread in my stomach, and dial Stan. After three attempts, Stan finally answers his phone.

"Belikov! I've tried to call you for the last hour, where have you been?"

There's nothing but the sounds of phone's ringing, people talking, and papers rustling in the background at the police station. Before I can answer and recover from my surprise that he'd been looking for me he continues. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Things have been crazy around here and I have to tell you-"

My phone beeps and it's Lissa on the other line.

Maybe she was able to get a hold of Christian or Rose.

"Hang on for a second, Lissa is calling."

"Belikov wait-"

I already click over before I hear the rest.

"Lissa, what's up? Did you find-"

"Dimitri..." She isn't crying as hard as she was before. In fact, it's just soft hiccupping sobs. Her voice is low and trembling as if she's just receive bad news and doesn't want to pass it on.

"Lissa, what is it? What's going on?"

"I..." She takes a deep shaky breath. It's the same breath that the paramedics took once they'd stopped working on Ivan and told me he was dead. I don't want to hear this, not again. I don't want to hear that another person I promised to protect is gone. But I keep listening anyway. "I called Rose's cell...I-I-I had stopped trying her phone a while ago because I thought Christian would be more likely to answer," she rambles.

"Rose answered her phone?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"No." I feel all hope disappear from my boy and blood drain from my face. "Your mother did. There's been an accident."

I don't let Lissa tell me anymore. I don't think I'll be able to keep driving if she tells me something I just can't...I won't accept and don't want to hear.

"I'm almost to the house. I'll pick you up and...and you can tell me on the way."

She sniffles and there's that rustling sound of her nodding against the phone again. "Alright," she answers in her trembling voice.

I almost hang up my phone but remember Stan on the other line.

"Belikov! What the hell?! Putting me on hold for so long! Look, I have to tell you-"

"There's been an accident. Something happened with Rose and maybe Christian," I tell him. "I'm not too sure."

Stan sighs on the other end of the phone. I can still hear all the noise in the background and it sounds like he's completely stopped moving. I imagine he's sitting, resigned himself to calm down.

"I know," he answers, surprising me. "That's why I was calling," he says in a calmer, less anxious tone than what he used before. "I got the call a little before you called. Things are so crazy down here at the station that I haven't had time to go to the hospital but I'm leaving as soon as I get a few things sorted out here."

I don't want to hear anymore now. I just want to pick up Lissa, head to the hospital, and see everything for myself.

"I'm on my way to pick up Lissa. We'll meet you at the hospital."

Stan agrees and is about to hang up. I didn't want to hear it from Lissa but now, hearing for a second time that there's been an accident, I have to know. I don't think I can make the rest of the drive now knowing.

"Stan, what exactly happened?"

He takes a deep breath, preparing himself to tell me.

"It's bad," he says simply at first. Another deep breath and then, "Someone tried to kill Rose."

Tried.

Tried to.

Tried to kill.

Tried to kill Rose.

The news isn't exactly uplifting but it's that one word 'tried' that's giving me enough hope to keep driving, to see everything for myself. She's alive. She has to be. But Christian...

"Do you think they're hurt bad?" Lissa asks.

It's the first time either of us have spoken so far.

"Stan only told me that it was bad."

She sighs, dissatisfied with my answer, and leans back against the seat. "Your mother said the same thing."

All we knew was that someone intentionally tried to kill Rose and Christian somehow intervened and ended up hurt. We don't know how they're hurt. We only know it's bad.

Both of us are preparing ourselves for the worst the rest of the quiet ride to the hospital.

"Slight concussion, mid-back sprain, scrapes and cuts to the face from the airbag and flying glass, and a broken wrist." My mother finished running down the injuries listed on Christian's chart before looking up at the four of us, relieved despite the many injuries. "It could've been much worse considering how his car collided with the other driver and then the tree."

"So...so he's going to be alright?" Tasha asked stepping forward a little.

Stan had already called her earlier to let her know there'd been an accident and she arrived at the hospital the same time Lissa and I did.

"He'll be fine. It was touch and go for a minute and we though his head injury was more severe but he'll be okay. Now he just needs a little rest."

Tasha, Lissa, and I let out a relieved breath and Stan patted Tasha's shoulder reassuringly. She nodded gratefully. Lissa spoke next, her voice cracking.

"What about Rose?"

The bit of relief I felt knowing Christian is alright disappears a little and my heart squeezes.

Someone tried to run Rose down. Someone tried to kill her. She was just getting back to normal. I hadn't known her before all of this happened, before her attack, but even I could see that she was feeling happy and normal again. At least most of the time.

Now she had yet another weight added on her shoulders, especially if she's seriously hurt. What if this attack has scared her so much that she wants to runaway, go back to hiding, and pretend none of this has happened?

"Rose is also very lucky she isn't more hurt," my mother answers as she flips through a second chart presumably Rose's. "She dived out-of-the-way before the car really hit her but the side of the car grazed her ribs. Two broken ribs, the ribs on her left side are bruised. She had a dislocated shoulder but we set it right again. A few scrapes, bruises, lacerations both from the fall and the assault afterward."

Assault? My breathing hitched and I had to work to calm myself. I'd find out the details later I just needed to see Christian and Rose for myself. I need to know they're okay with my own eyes.

My mother closed Rose's chart and looked up, shaking her head in disbelief that both of them are alright. "I imagine she's only alive now because Christian prevented the car from striking a second time when he intervened."

"Can I see her? Can I see both?" Liss asked the question that we were all thinking.

"Of course but I'm going to have to cut the visitations short. Both of them really need the rest. There's a nurse in with Rose right now but you can all go see Christian first."

My mother indicated down the hall to his room as we all started walking. Lissa and Tasha led the way, talking quietly to each other while my mother gestured for Stan and I to walk beside her, a little ways back.

"I figure I should warn you," she began. This isn't good. I can see the familiar worry lines already settling on her face. "Christian okay physically and mentally but Rose-"

"You said she'd be fine," I interrupt my mother.

She reaches to give my hand a squeeze with both of her much small ones. Her hands are as soft and warm as they've always been. But for the first time in all my life, out of all the times that my mother has ever reached out to comfort me to hold my hands, this is the first time that they do little to reassure me as much as I want them too.

"I know and she will be...physically but she's been through a lot, Dimka," she reminds me, still squeezing my hands.

"So what? Are you saying she's had some type of mental break or something?" Stan asks as concerned as I am. We look up to make sure Lissa isn't near by to hear. She and Tasha are already in Christian's hospital room.

"I'm saying that Rose has been through a lot. She's endured more than most girls her age have never even thought of and never have to worry about. She's shaken up but...she's doing her best to hide it. I just thought I should warn the both of you before you talk to her after visiting Christian." My mother turned to Stan. "And when you question her, go easy."

"Has she said anything? Have either of them told anyone what's happened exactly?" Stan asked pulling out his notepad. "All we have is that Christian told one of the paramedics in the ambulance that the car intentionally tried to run Rose down before he passed out."

My mother sighed, letting go of my hands to straighten out the already neat bun pulling her hair back from her face. She runs a hand over the worry lines over her forehead. I've always hated seeing my mother like this, exhausted, worried, and overworked all at the same time. She's only let me see her like this a handful of times and each and every time I've always just wanted to pull her into a hug and assure her that her son will take care of everything. She'll never have to worry about anything ever again.

I feel my body stiffen, preparing myself to hear the details of whatever the hell happened today.

"She said she was walking to the store for holiday decorations. She was feeling restless at home and went by herself. She didn't feel like waiting for anyone to drive her," my mother explained, looking at me quickly.

She knew I'd be wondering why Rose wouldn't just wait for someone to take her safely there and back. My mother is not a cop but she has a few powerful motherly instincts of her own. I nod, letting her know I understand what she's telling me and wait for her continue as Stan jots down everything my mother says.

My mother recants everything Rose told her: A car was driving towards her on the wrong side of the street but she didn't notice until it was too late. She managed to move out-of-the-way but the car struck her, knocking her down. The passenger door of the car opened, someone got out but Rose couldn't see who though it sounded like Jesse. She was too hurt and too scared to open her eyes.

She laid still, hoping whoever it was would think she was dead. She felt Jesse lean over her as someone else climbed out of the car asking if she was dead. It sounded a lot like Charlie. Rose said that she heard Charlie laughing, exclaiming how surprised he was that with how fast he was driving that Rose didn't land further away and that her limbs were still attached.

Jesse called back to Charlie that Rose sure looked dead. He nudged her with his foot, hitting the sore spot of her ribs and she winced involuntarily. Jesse laughed, calling back to Charlie that he should have driven faster because Rose was still alive. Rose told my mother that she could hear Charlie cursing under his breath before reminding Jesse that Adrian had said to make sure to finish the job.

That was when Jesse started hitting her.

I felt my stomach turning over as I continued to listen to my mother as she recanted Rose's story.

"He was really trying to kill her," my mother continued in a grave voice. "He used something heavy, a blunt object, to strike her."

Stan swallowed visibly, as disgusted by all of this as the rest of us. "Why the hell did they have to draw it out? If they were going to do this, to try to kill her, why not use a gun?"

"Rose mentioned something about that," my mother answered in a shaky voice. "He said something about it being more fun this way. He told her that Adrian said they had to get rid of her but he left it up to them on how to do it. Rose said that they must have thought she was dead because Jesse stopped hitting. She said she could hear Charlie saying something about running over her one more time just to be sure but as they were pulling back, another car was coming down the road."

"Christian?" I asked, already anticipating the answer.

My mother nodded. "When they hit Rose, she rolled slightly down the embankment but Christian told the paramedics that he could still see her from the road. As Charlie and Jesse were about to hit Rose again, Christian couldn't think to do anything to stop it except drive his car into theirs. It stopped their car from hitting Rose but they were able to drive away, striking Christian's car again so that it rolled once and struck the tree," my mother finally finished.

"My God," Stan exhaled.

My mother nodded solemnly. I ran a hand over my face, disbelieving. "Since that road is so remote, no one came across the crash site for a few hours," she explained.

I couldn't believe it. Both of them alone, bleeding, and unconscious on that road. I can't believe Rose had taken the isolated route instead of one of the busier roads. What if Christian hadn't been on his way to her house? What if Jesse and Charlie had finished what they were trying to uninterrupted? I couldn't even imagine.

"Rose and Christian were both in and out of consciousness and neither of them were able to dial 911," my mother added.

"Thank goodness they survived," Stan noted.

"Thank goodness Christian chose that route on his way to Rose's house," my mother added.

Stan exhaled as he finished writing up the last of his notes. "This is enough for me to arrest them, Charlie, Jesse, and Adrian at the least, and charge them with Christian and Rose as witnesses. The evidence, the damage to the cars and Jesse's hands from striking Rose, should help," Stan listed.

My mother stepped closer toward him and put her hand on his arm. "I can't imagine if it had been Viktoria or Lissa with the baby and everything. I can't even believe that this has happened to Rose and Christian. These are the people who hurt my daughter and Lissa and now they've gone after Rose again. Please just make sure all of this stops without anyone else being hurt."

Stan nodded once. "I'm not going to let them get away with this. I'm sure they think they're in the free and clear but I'll see to it that they spend the rest of their lives behind bars."

His promises were enough for my mother who nodded. Stan started walking toward Christian's room but when I moved to follow him, my mother stopped me again.

"Take care of her, Dimka."

Nothing more needed to be said.

"How do you feel?" Tasha asked her brother once Stan finished listening and writing Christian's statement.

Christian didn't look too bad. He had bandages and bruised here and there but most of the damage was to his back and the head concussion.

"Sore," he answered simply and then he elaborated. "I feel like I've been in a car accident," he said dryly.

"I think it's too soon to make that joke," Stan said.

Christian groaned, nodding his head. "I think you're right." He held up his broken wrist. "How am I supposed to chop, sauté, and fry with a broken wrist?" he asked as if it was the end of the world, making everyone laugh lightly.

"I'm sure you'll manage. You'll cook with your feet if you have to," Tasha laughed.

"Is mom really flying out here?" Christian asked his sister, referring to the conversation they'd been having when I came into the room.

Tasha nodded, clutching her brother's hand in her own. "She said she was depending on the storm if she can catch a flight and whether her and dad can afford to close up the shop for a quick visit. I told her you're fine and in one piece but I don't know. She said she'll call back when she knows for sure."

Christian groaned again but I doubted it was more from the idea of his mother coming to dote on him than from whatever pain he was feeling. Christian always told me his parents were a little overbearing. "I can already see her packing those adult footy pajamas."

We laughed as Tasha patted Christian's hand. "Better you than me," she laughed.

Lissa was the only solemn one in the room.

I touched her shoulder and she managed a small appreciative smile at the gesture.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

Instead of answering me right away, she thought for a moment. Everyone else in the room waited for her to answer. She stepped closer to Christian's bedside.

"Was it really as bad as you said it was? The accident?" she asked, putting emphasis on the word. 'Accident' wasn't the right word to describe this. This is attempted murder.

Christian hesitated before answering. He looked as if he was being careful with how he answered. I'm sure he didn't want Lissa imagining the same horrible images I had while listening to my mother recanting Rose's story. Instead, Christian answered Lissa's question with a question.

"You didn't see the accident site on the way to Rose's...or on the way here?"

I shake my head. "I took a different route. It was faster."

He nods, understanding. "It was pretty bad," he answers as honestly as he can without offering up the details again. The entire time Christian was telling Stan about his part in the incident, Lissa had been in the bathroom but I'm sure she heard some of the details. I'm sure she was imagining the worst, especially since we still haven't seen how bad off Rose was.

"I'm just glad the both of you are alright," Tasha said squeezing his hand again.

"We all are," Stan added.

Lissa didn't say anything. As Tasha fidgeted and fussed with Christian's blankets and Stan reviewed through his notes, I watched as Lissa slowly set her hand into Christian's waiting palm at his bed side. No one noticed. It was such a small gesture but I could see there was more too it than comfort. It meant a lot to Lissa that Christian was alright and it meant a lot to Christian that Lissa was here standing beside him. I wonder just how much time these two have spent together.

My mother poked her head in the door. "You can go see Rose now."

"Feel better soon. I'm going to really need your help on this," Stan said to Christian as he left the room. Christian nodded, suddenly looking exhausted. It's official: he's as involved in this as the rest of us are, something we'd all been trying to prevent.

"I'll be back, once I see Rose," Tasha said, ruffling his dark hair before following Stan out.

Lissa gave Christian's hand a squeeze, a silent thank you for saving her best friend and a promise that she'd be back to see him later. Christian squeezed her hand back and she left after Tasha without saying a word. He lifted his uninjured hand to bump his fist against mine.

"I'm glad you're okay, man," I told him.

"Not nearly as happy as I am."

"What you did was stupid. You could have gotten yourself killed," I told him, pointing out the obvious. "But I'm glad you did it."

"I'd do it again," he said without hesitation.

This was one of the things I liked the most about Christian. He was his own person, I know, but he reminded me a lot of Ivan. He had the same bravery, determination, and strength. He'd never leave anyone behind or hurting. He'd put himself in harm's way to help. I'm pretty sure this all meant so much more to me because he'd saved Rose. I was lucky to have Christian. We all were. I hated that he is involved in all of this now but if we had to go through this, I'd rather it'd be with Christian on my side.

I started to leave for Rose's room.

"She kept asking for you."

I stopped near the door, turning to face him.

"She was a little out of it but when they were rolling us in here, she kept asking for you."

I felt like my chest was tightening. She was calling for me and I wasn't there.

I didn't know what exactly Christian was getting at by telling me this. He'd been the one to warn me before about getting close from Rose during a time like this and I'd taken his warning to heart because he cared about her as much as I did. My mother had done the same thing. It sounded like they were both changing their tune now that something as serious as this happened.

Rose needed me. I know that. That's all that matters now.

"I appreciate you going through your account of what happened again," Stan thanked Rose after she'd repeated what happened from her perspective.

She nodded once and tried to smile when he set a comforting, encouraging hand on her shoulder but it barely reached her eyes. She looked better than I'd expected but she didn't look great. For some reason, I'd expected her beaten so badly that she was nearly unrecognizable. She had plenty marks on her face showing where Jesse had hit her but I could still the real Rose underneath.

Both of her eyes were a little swollen, rimmed with dark circles. Her lower lip was also swollen; there was a dark red vertical streak where it had bled. Her cheeks and foreheads are bruised. She had a few long gashes on her forehead and along the jaw that are bandaged. Her hands and lower parts of her arms are bandaged from where she'd tried to shield herself from the hits.

The worst of the damage had been to her ribs that are broken, bruised, or fractured where the car had struck her. Just by watching her I could see she is being careful breathing. There was a slight hitch to her breath but she was doing her best to hide it.

I could also see that she was nervous, fidgety. She pulled at her fingernails but the bandages made it difficult. I couldn't understand why. Was it because she had to go through questioning again? Did it bring back all the memories from the first two times something like this had happened?

"I'm going to go down to the station, write-up the paperwork, and put out a warrant for their arrests. They won't get away with this," he told her, making the same promise he'd made to my mother. "You're safe here. I'll have a twenty-four watch set on you. Nothing like this will ever happen again."

She nodded again. She thanked him, her voice was hoarse.

"I hope that this won't discourage you from continuing pressing charges."

For what felt like a long time, Rose didn't say anything. When she still hadn't said anything, Lissa touched Rose's hand. Rose glanced at her friend before looking up at Stan. She sat up a little straighter in her hospital bed, visibly wincing.

"This isn't going to stop me," she finally said.

Everyone let out a collective breath of relief making everyone smile slightly at the fact that we'd all been so worried.

"I can do this," Rose whispered more to herself than to the rest of us. She looked down at her hands where she was still trying to pull at her finger nails. "I still want to press charges," she added, looking up at Stan again.

Stan rarely, if ever, smiled. That's why I knew how much this case meant to him when he gave a proud and relieved smile. "That's great. We'll do this together. You have to get better soon though, okay?"

Rose nodded.

Stan patted my shoulder on his way out. He didn't say anything. The expression on his face said enough. It was the same thing Christian and my mother had said to me moments before: take care of Rose.

Tasha fussed over Rose as much as she had fussed over Christian. It was great knowing how many people Rose had in her life that cared for her. I could see it on Rose's face how much she appreciated everyone she had around her. She still had that nervousness about her that I still didn't understand.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" Tasha asked, fluffing Rose's pillow for the third time.

"I'm fine. Really. But thank you."

"Okay," Tasha said, seeming dissatisfied that she couldn't do anything more. "I'm going to go sit with my brother but I'll come back to see you before I leave. I still have work in the morning unfortunately."

"I appreciate that," Rose whispered. "Can you tell Christian thank you. I know it's not enough but-"

"He knows," Tasha assured her. "He'd do it again in a heartbeat. I can take you back home, Lissa, once I say goodbye to Christian," she offered.

Lissa looked unsure.

"You should go home," Rose pushed. "You look tired," she noted, looking at her friend's face. Lissa was practically swaying on her seat as she stood by her bedside. "Are you worried about going home alone?"

"Stan said he'd send a couple of guys over to watch over you," Tasha reminded her. The though of a bunch of strangers, policemen or not, didn't sound comforting even to me.

"I'm sure it'll be fine if you want to stay here," I suggested.

Lissa nodded.

Tasha shrugged as she made her way toward the door. "Alright. I can bring you both some clothes from your house if that's alright."

Rose told her it'd be great and told her where to find the spare key and a bag to put the clothes in for when they'd return to Rose's house. Once Tasha had left, Lissa spoke up for the first time. "Should I call your mom? Has the hospital called her?"

"The nurse said she called but there was no answer," Rose answered. From the tone of her voice she didn't sound surprised by this. Neither was I considering the last conversation they'd had together sounded like it could have gone better. Lissa and I both could have offered useless assurances that she'd eventually call and come back into town but honestly we didn't know what to tell her. We didn't want to lie.

Neither of us said anything.

Rose wasn't disappointed.

Lisaa suddenly leaned forward and clutched Rose close. Rose groaned from the pain but returned the hug, patting Lissa's back. The only noise in the room was the monitor keeping track of Rose's heart, the IV drip, and Lissa suddenly crying.

Her voice was muffled against Rose's hospital gown but I could still hear a bit of what she was saying.

"I'm sorry. I'm just glad you're okay. Don't ever scare me like that again," she hiccupped.

Rose couldn't help laughing a little but then she winced. "I won't. I promise." Lissa pulled away to wipe at her eyes. "I guess this means you don't want to decorate for Christmas?"

Lissa rolled her eyes and scoffed. "That should be the least of your worries right now. I just need you to get better."

"And I need you to get some sleep," Rose countered.

"I will. I just want to see Christian one more time," Lissa answered honestly, surprising both me and Rose. Noticing our surprise, Lissa stumbled over her words. "You know...to see if...to see how...to thank him again for saving you."

Rose and I just nodded as Lissa left the room.

It was just the two of us.

Rose was trying to fidget with her fingernails again. She was sitting upright and trying to breathe as steadily as she had when others were in the room. I wasn't buying her calm façade. She was anxious, nervous, and I couldn't understand why. She was trying to hide it and keep a normal appearance.

I put my hand over hers. I couldn't feel whether she was warm or cold because of the bandages. It was weird. I'd grown use to feeling her hands always so much softer and smaller than man. The last few times we'd trained together, I'd press her palm against my own to look at the size. We'd sit like that and talk until we were ready to practice.

"You can relax, Rose."

She looked over at me, surprised that I'd been able to see through her façade. For a long time, she sat quiet and still.

"Rose, you're safe here. It's okay. It's just us."

She looked down at her hands and started crying. Not body wracking, hiccupping sobs that I had seen before. Tears slowly streamed down her face, landing on top of our clasped hands. I hesitated on whether I could hold her against me without hurting her. I as close to her bedside as the side of her bed would allow me. She let her body fall gently against me. I wrapped my hand around her good shoulder, encasing her in a hug.

As worried as I had been before, it was a huge amount of relief not to just see her with my own eyes but to have her in my arms. Whether or not I was crossing the imaginary line we'd set between us, I don't care.

"I didn't fight back," she whispered.

I stopped rubbing my hand down her shoulder. "What?"

"I didn't fight back. While Jesse was hitting me...I didn't fight back," she repeated.

"Rose, you were hit by a car," I remind her as if it should be obvious.

She shakes her head against me. "I could have fought back. It hurt...when the car hit me but I could have fought back. I remember everything you told me: the perfect moment to strike at my attacker, where to strike..." she explained. She sighed against me, letting out a shaky breath. "I could have. Jesse was drunk and I had plenty of opportunity to but-"

"He might have done worse to you if you had fought back. Remember when I told you sometimes it's best to lay still. Jesse and Charlie weren't in their right minds from what I've hear so don't blame yourself. You did the right thing."

She started shaking her head the entire time I was talking. "I could have fought back. If I had...Christian wouldn't have...he wouldn't be here," she whispered against me. "I let Jesse hit me...I just wanted it over and done with."

I finally understood what she was saying.

"I tried to think about Liss and just getting home but...but then I thought that i-if I just let him hit me, if I just let all of this be done, if they were willing to go this far, is it really worth it?"

I tilted her chin up so that she'd look at me but she kept her eyes cast down. "You can't think that way."

"I know...it was only for a moment but it felt like forever. When someone finally found us and the paramedics came, and I heard what Christian did, I realized how lucky I am that I have someone like him in my life. I realized...he helped me and I'd be helping others if I was alive to press charges. I don't want anyone to feel the way I did, to feel like it's better to die. I'm just ashamed that I was ready to let Jesse kill me right then and there."

I tucked her hair back out of her face, unable to keep my fingers from running through her dark hair.

"You're a lot more brave than you give yourself credit for. I'm proud of you for not letting this stop you."

"I thought of Liss and Viktoria and how much of a hypocrite. I'd be if I just gave up." I tried to tilt her face up to look at me again but she gently pulled away choosing to only stare down at her hands. She plucked at her nails nervously.

"What else is going on?"

There was a long pause while she successfully pulled at one of her nails before she spoke. "How bad is it? My face?" she added when she saw my confusion.

That's what some of her nerves were about, how she looked with all the hits Jesse made to her face.

"I saw everyone's reaction when they first came in. Is it that bad?" she asked. Before I could answer she laughed humorless to herself. "I was almost killed and I'm worried about how I look. I feel so stupid."

She covered her face with her hands, trying to breathe deeply without hurting herself. I pried her hands away from her face holding them in my own as I sat beside her. Her eyes were the usual dark shade I was familiar with but with tears in them.

"I'm scarred on the inside so what does it matter if I'm scarred on the outside," she muttered solemnly.

"You won't have any obvious scars. It'll take a while to heal but nothing permanent. Everyone was just surprise by what Jesse did to you."

"I'm not. I'm just surprised he didn't finish me off. What if they come after me again? Or Liss or Viktoria? What about your family and Christian and Tasha...they're like a rich mafia."

The more she talked, the more fear I could see building in her eyes. She'd been pretty good about hiding it so far but not now. Not with me. I don't know how or why but I could just tell. I can see right through her as if she's an open, transparent book. I can see how afraid she really is, how much she's shaking at the thought of any of this happening again. I can see her ready to fall apart and unable to put herself back together again. I see all of this and I don't like it.

"Everyone will be fine. Stan feels guilty for pulling back on the security detail but he says he'll have some of his guys watching my mother's house, your house, and Christian's until things calm down."

"What about you?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

I couldn't help the laugh that came out of my mouth. "I can take care of myself. It helps that I'm six-foot seven, I'm a former cop with a loaded gun in my apartment, and I'm a trained self-defense instructor," I listed confidently.

"So is Christian, without the cop thing," she pointed out, feeling uncertain by my answer. "He's also not as tall as you but he's at least six two."

"He also doesn't have a gun. As far as I know. He's an instructor too but...he's better at cooking," I answered honestly. "Give him a knife and he can slice and dice anyone into little cubes. He can defend himself alright but not as weak as he is now."

"I don't want you to get hurt Dimitri."

I opened my mouth to protest at the idea of having my former fellow cops on security detail with me but Rose interrupted.

"Please...if you're not going to have any of the cops to watch over you then...at least...stay near by...with Christian or your family...or Liss and me."

I could see how much this meant to her, knowing I was safe. I'm sure it meant as much as she did to me. I relented. I'd feel better stick close by to everyone anyway. "I wasn't planning on letting any of you out of my sight anyway."

She relaxed even more than before but looked visibly exhausted. I helped her lay back against the pillows Tasha had fluffed. She reached for my hands again the second she settled down.

"You should get some rest," I told her. "This had been one hell of a day."

"I will...but will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep."

"Of course," I answered immediately. I hadn't been planning on leave any time soon. I tucked her blankets around her and turned off most of the lights living one of the dim ones on so that it wasn't completely dark.

"If I close my eyes and fall asleep, I know I'll see them," she whispered, fighting the heavy weight of her eye lids.

"You look so tired, I doubt you'll dream. You'll fall into a deep sleep and before you know it, it'll be morning."

She nodded, seemingly choosing to believe me or just too tired to fight it any more. Her eyes were still open, but only slightly. She fidgeted with her remaining fingernails as she waited for sleep to come. I thought of how my mother use to soothe me to sleep. I ran my fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face. It was silky soft and the gesture felt as familiar as if I'd done it millions of times before.

"You have no idea how relieved I am that you're okay." I wasn't sure if she was listening completely or not but I had to say out loud to just get it out of my system.

"I thought I'd never see any of you again...especially you...and it scared me," she whispered. We were doing it again, being completely honest. But this time I don't think I can do as I had tried to that night of the storm and just forget about it the next morning. I don't want to talk to Rose open and honestly only to let her go. I don't want to let her go.

Is it bad timing? Of course.

Will it be easy? Of course not.

At this point though, I could care less.

"I can't even believed this happened. This is something out of a soap opera or a really bad Lifetime movie," she added, laughing dryly and then wincing at the pain no doubt making her body throb.

I smiled but didn't say anything. I kept the smooth rhythm of brushing back her hair, silently telling her to relax sot hat at least while she was asleep she wouldn't feel any pain.

As a cop they use to tell us that putting out lives on the line makes us cherish the things we take for granted, the things we're hesitant to go for and hold on to. Rose's life was on the line today and I almost lost her.

I've known this girl for a handful of months. She's young. She's going through what can only be accurately described as a nightmare now...

But she's tough, she's brave, and when she makes it to the end of all this...I want to be there. I don't want to only be beside her. I want to be with her.

I almost lost her today. Now I'm never letting her go.

The entire time I'm running all of this through my head, Rose is looking at me. Her eyes have softened so that they look as if they'd barely open but I know she's still awake enough to hear me when I tell her, "You're beautiful."

It's a little more blunt than I'd intended but I'm not one to beat around the bush. From now on I'm going to be completely honest with myself and with Rose without any regrets, without agreeing to never talk about it again. I'll just say everything I'm feeling as I go along and see what happens.

Despite the bruising to her cheeks, Rose blushes. I gently brush my thumb along the warm skin of her face. She's finally smiling. It's small but it's there.

I could say more. I could tell her she's perfect inside and out at least to my eyes but I realize that those two words, telling her she's beautiful, is enough. It doesn't sum up everything I'm feeling but for now, it's enough.

I kiss the back of the hand I'm holding and caress her bandaged hands until she falls asleep.

A/N: Another tedious chapter but I gave some of you guys what you wanted, right? Kind of? Maybe? Yes? No? Lemma know!

Oh, I know I've said (typed) this before but I was rereading Twelve Months of the Year and the amount of grammatical typos and spelling errors are ridiculous so if you see it's updated, it's only because I'm fixing some of the chapters. It's been bothering me for a while.

Also, you guys are awesome for reviewing and keeping up with this story. I know it's a little slow and at some points unbelievable but I'm doing my best and I'm glad someone is out there reading and hopefully enjoying it!