Sleep was a funny thing. It could wash away one worry, only to replace it with another nightmare. And I had a lot of nightmare-worthy material to deal with these days. My less-than-ideal situation with Dimitri didn't exactly fit the category, but he wasn't the only guy trying to slip into my apartment at night.

I don't know what woke me first. Paranoid of having my throat slit in the middle of the night already kept me partially awake, only dozing off with the lapping of distant, droning traffic. But, breaking into a cold sweat and sitting up in a tangle of sheets, I knew: something was not right. Breath labored, I peered around my dark bedroom, brief flashes of headlights sweeping through and illuminating striking objects before the shadows settled in again. Although nothing looked amiss, the gnawing feeling in my gut begged to differ. I trusted it over my eyes any day.

Gray moonlight spilling in, I threw my legs over the side of my bed and grabbed my pistol from the nightstand, unlocking the safety. I crept over to the door. The chilled, wooden floorboards creaked under my bare feet and I could hear my heartbeat pounding against my eardrums. It was a wonder I heard anything.

I paused in the doorway, assessing. Sure enough, there was a faint whisper of noise outside, my heart jumping in my throat. My mind reeled. Was he here? Had he broken through Mason's security? How? When? I took a steadying breath. Don't jump ahead of yourself, Rose. My trembling fingers tightened around the base, making them still. I wasn't going to figure anything out simply standing there. And even if by some twisted nightmare Victor or the apprentice was in my apartment, I was pretty sure a handgun beat a scalpel in a rock-papers-scissors match.

So I pushed forward. Sharpening my senses, I swiftly turned into my main section, gun poised. There was nothing. Still not trusting the shadows, I kept my gun rigid, correcting my mistake from the past.

Entering the living room, I felt my breath catch. Dimitri. How could I have forgotten about Dimitri? Sprawled across the small sofa, it was unimaginable he fit. Somehow though, he made it seem comfortable (well, to some degree), his face tilted toward me. He'd fallen asleep at his post. I wasn't surprised; he'd probably pulled an all-nighter keeping watch at the hospital last night. Despite my haze of fear clouding my mind right then, I still found myself drawn to him, amazed at the gentleness of his demeanor while his defenses were down. Everything about him looked softer- his hair, his cheeks, his lips...

I couldn't wake him. Not when he looked like that. It was crazy, considering the fact that a mass murderer might be in my house definitely called for backup, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

It really was a wonder I hadn't gotten myself killed yet.

Ignoring that small voice in my head berating my stupidity (it seemed to be leading the fray lately), I focused on breathing again and tiptoed toward the couch, my eyes darting around. I checked the door twice, glancing out the peephole to find the Valley of the Dead in my apartment hallway. I took that as a good sign.

Then, as I made my way back, I heard it again. That faint rustling that stirred too loudly in the night. Instinctively, I crouched down, not even realizing I was in front of the coach again until I half-jumped from a minor heart attack, dark endless orbs staring back at me.

Dimitri had woken up. Damn it. I forgot he was a light sleeper.

He parted his lips to say something but I clamped a hand over them, my eyes begging for him to be quiet. I wasn't an ace in the field of facial expressions, but the situation itself kind of screamed don't-make-a-noise, so I was pretty sure he got the message. Besides, he was in FBI. They could sense danger better than bloodhounds. Me slamming a hand over his mouth was probably overkill.

Nonetheless, I couldn't help but put a finger to my lips for more emphasis as I released him, standing up and walking towards to the sound. Because I'd sharpened my hearing, I just barely heard Dimitri sitting up behind me, the leather-clad cushions shifting under the changing weight. I stayed in battle mood, not risking a glance over my shoulder.

I reached the west side of the room, gun aimed. The curtains shifted and my gaze turned hard. I sucked in a breath, muscles tense to the point the threatened to snap- and ripped the curtain back.

A cat in the alleyway below meowed, frightened, clanging against trash as it scurried off. The window was cracked just enough to let a light breeze waft through, ruffling the curtains. I exhaled, practically sagging in relief. I was on the fourth floor, too high to managebly climb, especially for a middle-aged guy like Victor. And yet... had I left the window open? I racked my brain trying to remember. That wasn't like me. If I hadn't then who...

Before I could think further, the smell of aftershave hit me. I spun around, thankfully not bracing my pistol still, to find Dimitri scrutinizing the window, then me. I don't think I'd ever seen him look concerned so many times in one night. Chest fluttering- from adrenaline, his earnest worry, or our bodies proximity, I couldn't say- I swallowed back the lump in my throat and joked half-heartedly, "False alarm, comrade. We won't be taking down any convicts on the run tonight."

He gave me one of his famous looks, the one that said I didn't have to hide my discomfort with humor. Having my life in danger was seriously beginning to kill my joke stash. "Are you okay?" he asked.

A loaded question. I sighed and nodded numbly, not sure how else to respond. He assessed me for a few moments more in suspended silence before deciding to accept my answer. Dimitri glanced back at the open window, in full battle mood. I looked to it, too, as he ran his fingers along the glossy, marmalade frame. It hadn't been forced open. Most likely I'd just been too preoccupied to close all the entry points in my apartment- my mother wasn't too far off in saying I needed a better security system. "What are you thinking?" I asked quietly after a few moments.

He didn't answer my question though. Not really, anyway. There was a pause before he replied, "I'll check around. Go get some rest, Rose."

I scoffed. Easier said than done. "Like I could sleep after this," I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. I was really starting to feel the bite of winter. Dimitri checked the lock once more. Seemingly reassured we weren't going to get taken out by a guy flying through the window, he looked back at me again for a space of a breath before sealing and locking it shut. I quirked an eyebrow. "Finally barring it up for the night?"

Startling enough, a shadow of a smile flickered across his lips as he straightened. "Well, that. And I figured you were getting cold."

I frowned, confused, and glanced down at my outfit. If you could even call it that. It was on the brink of November, my bed smothered by blankets, and I'd tiresomely put on my normal attire to sleep in, once again forgetting Dimitri. Or, more accurately, I was too distracted by him to care what I wore to bed.

Which happened to only be a battered cotton tee and lace boy-shorts. Damn it all to hell.

I flushed slightly but did my best to hide it, hoping the arms crossed over my chest looked confident. "The cold's the least of my problems," I said flippantly, not knowing why I was still trying to brush everything off. Old habits die hard.

I could sense him smiling, but he said nothing. I glanced up. He locked gazes with me, a rare moment when he was fully grinning. Whoa. No idea what I'd done to deserve that. Just like before when warmth bubbled up inside me like champagne at the sight of his sleeping figure, he was staring at me with tenderness. Compassion. And... an emotion I couldn't quite place. "What?" I asked, uneasily. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The air between us heated as he weighed his answer, time seeming to slow. I had no idea what he would say in return, but it didn't stop that heat from creeping over my skin, making me bubble with warmth. We were still standing together. Close. Way too close for me to keep my flippant composure. Neither of us backed away this time; in fact, if I wasn't mistaken, he stepped forward, ramping up the sexual tension even more. The part of me still trying to keep a grip wanted to scowl- he was making it a bitch to keep the self-control he'd continually nailed into me.

And I was losing it faster than I thought I would. My pulse was getting out of control again despite the logical side of me. I couldn't think straight, not with that intoxicating cologne and sheer intensity. 'Even my self-restraint has a limit.' That's what he had said earlier. Well, that made two of us.

I wanted to kiss him. Badly. I'd wanted to since... well I couldn't remember when I didn't want to. A minority voice not mentally damaged by lust reminded me that would open a Pandora's Box I did not want to deal with right now. However, it was quickly getting drowned out by the voices screaming to crush the distance between us, especially when he brushed my hair back again (this time most definitely not on accident).

That brief clarity was enough though.

I blinked, mentally slapping myself. What was I doing? I was supposed to be mad at him, just as I'd reminded myself back in the hospital. But always that realization lead to the same question: why?

For a second, I couldn't remember, baffled as we stood there. Then, out of nowhere, the memory slammed into me full-force. I realized my mistake too late. I'd kept that memory buried for a reason.

The phone call was still freshly imprinted in my mind.

I don't think I could ever forget it, Lissa sobbing in hysterics, sirens wailing in the background, while my own tongue felt like lead, unable to comfort my best friend. I was numb to the core. It was as if ice had slithered over my joints, freezing it down to my bone marrow. "It's Avery..." Those were the first words she had said. Even as she recounted everything that had happened, those words still rung in my head. I could practically see it being chipped into ashen, gray stone, her name a marker for an ivy-laced grave.

It's Avery.

A few hours after, that call continued to play center-stage. Even after sliding down to the floor and losing all sense of time, dozing in and out of consciousness, it was the only thing on my mind. Lissa's heartbroken cries rattled my conscious. Invisible ice remained on my skin, a permanent fixture. I was not accustomed to Death yet, to its chilling touch and eerie shadow; looking back, I guess that was the first time I made Death's acquaintance. It would lead to the first of many passings.

Right then though, a scuffle forced me to focus back on reality.

I glanced over, wary. Unsteady, I managed to get to my feet and walk over to the door. A note had been slipped under, into my dorm, folded but unaddressed. Seeing as my roommate was over seas for the semester though, I could guess who the recipient was supposed to be. I bent down and picked it up, opening it. I was immediately taken aback. The letters were cut out from a magazine, pasted and glued like a 90's serial killer. Boy. Just what every FBI in-training agent wants to see. I skimmed over it cautiously.

Rose Hathaway, you really don't have any restraint do you? I'll make you learn your lesson the hard way, then. Kick Dimitri out of your life (honestly, you're not good enough for him) or I can't guarantee how secret your relationship will stay- romantic or otherwise. Secrets, after all, are meant to be broken.

The part of me that could still crack a joke wanted me to email the note to the writers of Pretty Little Liars as new material. The part of me that realized how serious this was? Well. That side of me was completely freaking out. My head spun, fingers crumpling the paper. Someone knew about my relationship with Dimitri. I'd always thought I was great at juggling danger, but this? This was a whole new level. Either I had to break it off with Dimitri or they would destroy everything, inside and outside of our relationship: those were the choices this person had left me with. If I hadn't been so afraid of facing those consequences, I probably would have been boiling with anger at the threat. But I was still trying (and failing) to cope with Avery's death. Pile on being forced to break up with the first guy I'd fallen hard for?

That added up to another adventurous, albeit memorable, Saturday in the life of Rose Hathaway. And a very emotionally trying one at that.

Numb as I was, I found my body could still obey my commands as I got up and walked briskly down the halls, the rest of the world a blurring kaleidoscope. In my hands, the letter burned. I wanted to ignore it, but that only left me with images of Avery. Neither one I wanted to think about.

Dimitri. Dimitri would know what to do, I told myself. He'd be able to put this to rest, soothe me and get to the bottom of this mess. Inwardly, I reflected on the night in the gym. It had only been two days ago, yet it felt like a lifetime had passed in our happy bubble. I never wanted that to end. But apparently, reality was a bitch with an attitude problem that had to leave anonymous threats at my doorstep instead.

The number to his door was like a beacon of safety. He always kept it unlocked. My fingers wrapped around the knob and slid it open, carpet hissing."Dimitri-" I started, wanting to do nothing more than to fall into his arms. However, it opened to an empty room. I looked around. "Dimitri?" I called again. No answer. He wasn't home. Confused (since he wasn't exactly a social butterfly), I walked through the teacher's dorms trying to find him. Mark, my combat theory teacher, ran into me and redirected me to a scarcely-populated hallway branching off from the living quarters.

I followed his directions as the mystery deepened, perking slightly when I heard Dimitri's voice up ahead around a corner. But all of that came crashing down when I heard what he was talking about. And with who. "I told you, I can't come home right now. The FBI has me stationed here." Dimitri said. I could detect slight exasperation in his tone, but it was parred by earnest amusement. That alone should have set off warning bells.

"Oh come on Dimka, they'd drive you into the ground if they could," a female voice replied effortlessly. "It's just one week in Russia. Besides our families already threw together this arranged marriage, it wouldn't kill you to visit them."

Now, people always talked about things blindsiding you. But certain things were enough to knock you off your feet. We'd just gone from warning to bells to the SWAT team, Secret Service agents tackling the president, and Titanic sinking in 10 seconds flat.

Because bottom line, we'd just gotten into marriage territory. Holy hell.

Dimitri sighed. "I have things I have to do here."

"Your students won't miss you that long. You can say I kidnapped you."

"It's more than that it's-" Dimitri cut himself off. My feet had unconsciously carried me around the corner. I knew he didn't know long I'd been standing there, but apparently, it didn't matter. The topic spoke plainly for itself. For about two seconds as he met my gaze, it was just us in that room, the ceiling seemingly threatening to cave in. "Rose," he whispered. Then, reality came back again.

The woman glanced between us before it seemed to click."Oh, are you one of Dimka's students?" she asked, her smile was innocently inquiring. I refocused on her, trying to keep a grip. She had a thick, raven-black mane and stunning blue eyes. And I had never seen her in my life.

I parted my lips to say something, but nothing came out. The world was spinning and I was left reeling. Already I was racked by Avery's death. Whatever was happening here made something inside me break and resolve at the same time.

'Are you one of his students?' That question was a slap to the face. I realized it then. That was how the world treated us, how they would always treat us- not as a couple but as student and mentor. We couldn't be together. To Dimitri I was a child, his student. I couldn't compare to this nameless beauty. Just as the letter had taunted, he deserved better than me. And it was right. We weren't equals.

I felt my fingers unconsciously crumble the paper in my grasps, heat welling at my fingertips. My heart was pounding, my chest feeling hot and heavy as my ribs compressed the beating chamber like a weight. Everything felt personified. I don't know what I wanted to do at that moment. Break down, cry? Hit anyone that tried to touch me or reason with me? Yeah. All of those things sounded pretty good right then.

Instead though, I found myself smiling wide at her, masking my emotions. "No," I said in regards to her question. "I'm just someone passing through."

I swept by them, not looking back. I never looked at him. I knew on the outside I must have looked confident, put together, just like always. The inside was a different story. I was falling apart. Graves, blue eyes, and death's smile plagued me. But I had to keep going. The branch let out to an empty part of the back academy. Vaguely, I heard him call to me, but I didn't stop. I didn't want to hear his voice. I just kept walking.

Avery was dead. My already rocky relationship with Dimitri was dying, too. And I was helpless to stop any of it. Searing coals burned in my chest, more tears threatening to leak out. My eyes were squeezed shut, the pain ripping through indescribable. I stopped under the shade of a deserted cherry blossom tree, hugging myself. I shook my head mutely, body racking with silent sobs as I broke, teeth barred against the river of tears etching down my face. I sank to the ground.

I don't know how much time passed. Eventually, Mark found me there, sobbing. He didn't ask what was wrong though. He simply sat with me like the dad I never had and let me stain his shoulder with tears, telling me that everything would be alright.

But right then, with my heart on the line of shattering whole, I sincerely and highly doubted that.

The heat between us fell as that chill from 5 years ago settled over me. This time the lump in my throat wasn't because he'd disarmed my witty comebacks. It was that sickening constriction I'd felt all those years ago. Dimitri had been my teacher for a year, and in those months I'd completely fallen for him. I knew I wasn't the only one. But love could only conquer so much. There would always be a barrier between us.

Memories continued to stir. 'Is this my fault?' he had asked me the day I left the academy. That wasn't it though. I hadn't just ended things between because of him or Blue Eyes, the note, or Avery. None of it was his fault. All of it was mine. And even if it meant I had to play the bad guy and pretend to be mad at him now, even if it meant I was the one suffering at the end of the day, all I wanted was for him to be happy. Back then, I'd convinced myself that he could only do that without me.

Maybe I really was a masochist.

I lowered my eyes, lips falling away from his. "We should get some rest," I said quietly.

He recognized the change instantly. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't look up. I couldn't. This time, he didn't force it. "...I suppose you're right," Dimitri answered after several seconds. He didn't protest as I continued to avert my gaze, vanishing back into my bedroom as if nothing had happened. I closed the door, back carving into the oak. My heart continued to drum in my chest. I could count each pulse. "What am I doing?" I whispered to myself. I was all over the place. I tipped my head back, begging myself to shut out that pain before it consumed me. For once, my body listened. I stood there for several minutes before I deemed it safe.

A hopeful part of me tried to rally me by suggesting that my confusing, near-kiss with Dimitri was only dream. Or, if not, that Victor would choose now to make an appearance and finish his endgame. It would cut out an awkward morning conversation over coffee. I sighed. I really did need to cut it off with jokes.

I started to head toward bed again when I walked past my closet, hesitating and eying it. Another memory flitted by. Then, reluctantly, I went over and opened it. Soon enough I was cross-legged on the floor and ransacking the mountain of clothes, digging further and further into the gaping mouth. This wasn't about changing my Sydney Sage wardrobe though, or even grabbing pants. I was looking for something. Something that Dimitri's inquiry had reminded me of. After several minutes, I managed to uncover it, dusting off forgotten fabric like lint. The top of the nostalgic cardboard box looked bleak in the moonlight and I pulled it out in front of my lap. It'd been the first time in a couple years since I'd last seen it.

Nothing had changed except for the name scrawled over white duck tape, labeling the box and its contents. Time had faded the the writing into a faint, gray scripture. It was still readable though. I stared at the two words for another heavy pause before lifting off the lid, trying to disregard it while the name still gloated in my face, shimmering under night's silver glow. Avery Dragomir.

I dug through the box. It wasn't like her ashes or anything were stowed inside, but evidence from the cold case were plentiful. Papers at the bottom consisted of pictures of Avery and the incident file. Even if it'd been years since the last time I read it, I knew every word from the sheet. I clawed up the papers, a familiar glint of white behind plastic shining in my face. I paused. Then, carefully, I took it out.

Why had I dropped out of the academy to hightail it back to New England? I stared at the gloss-white chess piece, the Queen blanketed with a layer of dried blood as if it were a rusted-red robe she'd slipped into.

Despite what Dimitri believed, it wasn't his fault. The whole situation with Blue Eyes hadn't helped things, but I wasn't petty enough to let my romantic life drive me out of my career. It certainly hadn't helped either though. It had just helped form my resolve.

Gaze heavy, dragging, I carefully put away the piece of evidence from the cold case that remained a stalemate. Insomnia once again setting in, I pulled in a pillow to my chest as if hugging the cold linen would help fill the crumbling void. In truth, all I wanted was to hold Dimitri and let him take the pain away. But like I'd convinced all those years ago, I wasn't a senseless kid anymore. It sucked, but I had to block out all those voices telling me to run to him. This was no time to dive into my past love life. Not when Victor was after me. Not when I still had things to deal with. Not when there was this many complications.

Like the past three days, Victor's face haunted my dreams. However, courtesy of Dimitri's intrigue and my own, stirring memories, my killer faded into away, thoroughly outvoted. There was a brief flash of white, like panning by the sun, before it settled into another familiar scene.

"You're really leaving?"

I turned. I was outside of the academy, at a barren bus stop spotted by white-and-yellow daisies. It was early spring, the flowers freshly bloomed, their aroma hovering between Dimitri and I. A week had passed since the last day I saw him, the day I caught him in the hall. He had his hands in his duster. Mine were curled on the handle of my suitcase.

I avoided his gaze, eyes traveling back to the road as the wind stirred. "I have to. Something's come up back home."

"It's more than that."

"No. It's not."

"Rose. Look at me." Reluctantly, I did. "If this is about Tasha-"

My earlier upset twinged at the name of his probable fiance, cutting him off pointedly, "It's not. Seriously. Can we please not talk about this now?" If we were going to have a last moment together, then I'd be damned if I let it be small talk about his gorgeous bride-to-be and what they were going to name their kids. He obeyed my wish. Silence fell. I let out a breath along with some of my anger, my fingers tightening around my suitcase. "Why are you out here, Dimitri? Just to tell me that?"

"I came because you're leaving."

"I thought I wasn't any of your concern anymore."

"You will always be my concern, Roza."

That comforting moment was short-lived. The bus to Massachusetts glinted harshly up ahead as it lugged its way in across the buckling, dry pavement. My eyes were on it as it danced in the disorienting sun. "I don't need your concern or help," I replied quietly. "I was more than just your student, remember?"

"Rose-"

"It's alright, comrade, you can spare the zen lessons for today. I've already made up my mind. I know what I have to do." The bus hissed to a stop in front of us, door swinging open. Glimpsing at him, I wanted nothing more than to embrace him, maybe running together like Noah and Allie in a freak thunderstorm. That would be nice. Instead, I risked a simply brush on his cheek as I smiled, hiding whatever was really stirring inside me. Kept from him, the nazar he had given me burned in my pocket."I'll see you around," I lied, hoping one day in the future it would be true.

As I turned and boarded, a hand caught mine. I looked back, surprised, as Dimitri tried to stop my resolve. His heart reflected in his eyes. "Is this my fault?" he asked softly.

I stared, lips parted. Once again, I got caught in our gravitational pull. For a moment, I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him about Avery, how I had to drop out of the FBI to follow what was right. I wanted to tell him about the note, that the reason I walked away that day wasn't because of Tasha but because of my own insecurity, because there would always be something stopping us from being together- no matter how many times we refused to play by the rules. I wanted to tell him that I loved him and that was the reason I was letting him go. I wanted to tell him all of this and more.

But for once in my life, I wasn't just thinking about myself. This was for the best, even if it meant I had to endure some pain in the meantime. Everything comes with sacrifice. And that was a lesson I had to learn the hard way.

If I told him any of that, he wouldn't let me go. And I wouldn't want to leave. The bus stalled, the scent of the field wafting by as the sunlight glinted off the shining metal of the bus. I closed my eyes. He wasn't the only one that could put everything on his shoulders. After all, I'd picked up a lot more than fighting techniques and zen lessons. You could live a lifetime in a year. And that's exactly what I had done. Now, it was time to move on- even if I didn't want to. I slipped my hand out of his hold. "Not everything is about us, Dimitri," I answered quietly, turning my back and boarding. I paid the driver and sat, the door hissing closed. I could only imagine what kind of face Dimitri wore the day I left. I never looked back.

That was a sucky main moment and did not go according to plan. Sorry Rose missed out on the kiss and for the unpredicted delay, I changed this chapter at least 6 different times before I was happy. Extreme emotions are not easy to write. But now you get one mystery solved, and Tasha and (a dead) Avery introduced!

Thanks everyone though for still supporting this wacky story. Reviews/Favorites/Follows are always met with much love~