Disclaimer: Not. Mine.

A/N: Yeah! I got another one done! I really like this one, despite the fact that it's really sad. Oh, and just to point out, this one is completely AU to all of the rest in the series. For one thing, I'd never wish this on Rosto...

Edit: This is also AU to the books, since, if Beka was killed before she had a kid, we wouldn't have George, and that would be very, very bad. (Thanks to AdagioToAWolf for pointing that out)


Beka… Rosto held his head in his hands while he sat on a bench. His mind cried out for her every other second, loving her for her bravery one second, cursing her for it the next. She'd had to go after that rat. She'd had to follow him into that tavern. She'd had to fight it out.

A silent tear slid down his cheek. The others thought this was rather odd. The King of the Rogue crying over one of the Dogs – it was unheard of. They were on opposite sides of the law. They were clearly supposed to enemies, but they weren't. They'd been closer than any would have thought. It had only been a few months before that she'd acknowledged that she had feelings for him, and allowed some of his advances.

Neither of them had expected this. Somehow, they'd managed to avoid those thoughts, even though they knew they were both in dangerous positions. Rosto always had the risk hanging over his head that some other young rogue would challenge him, and take him out.

Beka had always lived with the fact that she'd chosen a dangerous job when she became a Puppy. They'd never thought about the fact that at least three or four Dogs died in a year, or that Beka could be one of them.

The statistics had always seemed to be in their favor. Until now, now Rosto had lost another person he loved. Just like before. Aside from him being the Rogue, was there something about him that put the people close to him in danger? Was she dead because of him? He couldn't help but wonder if her death, as well as his sister's was his fault. It seemed possible, as he thought about it. But, no - it had to be just a coincidence. There was absolutely nothing common about the two incidents. There was nothing that connected them.

He sighed, trying to push away those thoughts. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Beka's face, whether she was smiling, or the look on her face when she was mad. Each time he blinked he was haunted by his grief, by an image of her face.

He hadn't even been able to be honest about his feelings with her. He'd started to when the now dead rat had attacked them. The young thief's intentions had been to kill the King of the Rogue and take over the Court, as well as take out the one Dog who was practically guaranteed to catch any rat in the lower city.

He remembered the incident so clearly. He knew that he'd never forget that day. Never in his life would he be able to live with the fact that he hadn't been able to save her. Never would he be able to live without the feeling that he'd let her die, that he'd been the cause. Never would the haunting cease.

Rosto's head was cradled in one of his hands – his other arm was bandaged and in a sling – while the Dogs honored Beka. Beka's Dogs, Tunstall and Goodwin weren't too far from Rosto. Goodwin was sobbing into her partner's chest, something that rather shocked Rosto – she'd loved Beka in her own way, even if she hadn't shown it before. Tunstall's face was dry, but his eyes were filling rapidly. Rosto could tell it was hard for them to lose Beka, she'd been their Puppy, and they'd remained close even after she'd been elevated to a full-fledged Dog.

The Lord Provost spoke for a while – he and his wife had loved her like a daughter, in a way. They'd raised her when her mother had died, and she'd lived with them until she'd joined the Guard. Rosto shook his head, tears slipping down as he did so.

They knew nothing of what his torture was like. They weren't haunted by thoughts of her every waking moment, and tormented by replaying nightmares in the moments that he dozed off. They had no idea how his heart made him suffer, even while they thought they were in pain. He had no moment when Beka wasn't on his mind; there hadn't been a moment like that since her death.

Rosto knew it would be a very long time, if ever, before he got over this. It was more likely that he'd go back to Scanra than it was that he'd ever really get over Beka. It was more likely that he'd give up the Rogue before the pain in his heart disappeared.

One thing he knew, he would always remember her. He'd remember Beka, through the years, wherever he was, whatever he was doing, nothing could change that. Rosto the Piper wasn't a man who forgot people easily.


A/N: Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you, and if you have any suggestions, those are just as welcome. And if you need something Terrier themed to read while you await more, try AdagioToAWolf's version of Bloodhound - it's awesome.