I know! I know! It's terribly late, and I'm sure half of you have lost interest by now. I really would love to hear some ideas from you... Anything? And although I am struck with writer's block, I will NOT, in any way, EVER be abandoning this story. I promise you I will finish it. So please, any suggestions will definitely be appreciated!
Just a warning, this chapter is a little intense, and probably borders on an M rating, but definitely not for any romance. Just violent content.

-PeaceRoseG'ladheon

~xXx~

He doesn't catch my gaze, doesn't acknowledge my presence. He simply stares forward as he is dragged up the pews and forced to kneel before Viktor.

Dimitri height reaches Viktor's shoulders, even when on his knees, but Viktor is obviously trying to intimidate him.

"Don't touch him," I hiss. I'm completely ignored by both Viktor and Dimitri, as they continue to stare each other down.

"My, my. It looks as though we have a reunion, here, Belikov. And after all this time, too." He circles Dimitri, his eyes locking on me, taunting, teasing. "Look how much young Rosemarie's grown. Of course, some of us have been treating her that way for quite some time, now..."

Dimitri didn't flinch, doesn't move.

"A hardened, seasoned veteran she has turned out to be, hmm? Risking her own young life for the one she loved, only to be tossed aside when his eyes fell to another, a younger woman. Vasilisa, if I've heard correctly?" he jeers, his eyes narrowing like a serpents.

Dimitri's shoulders tense, but he grits his teeth together. I recognize that look. I've tested that look.

He's trying to control his temper.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he seethes, and turns back into the stone guardian I know. And love.

Viktor clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Surely becoming a soulless creature of the night hasn't impacted your memory?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," was the only reply he received.

Viktor tightens his jaw. "Where is Vasilisa?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I bite back a cheer as a scowl swept across Viktor's face. I, as hot-headed as I was, would never be able to contain myself long enough to frustrate Viktor.

"Where is the Princess, Belikov? We can kill you in an instant!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

Both men's voices were rising in volume: Viktor's with anger, Dimitri's with triumph. And I was a mere witness to it all.

But as stubborn and strong as Dimitri was, I couldn't help a cry of shock as the fist of one of the dhampirs made sharp contact with his jaw.

His head was snapped to the side, and his eyes made brief contact with my own.

Determination.

Slowly, so slowly, he turns to face his captors, my captors, his eyes blazing with a fury I had thought I would never see again.

"We've searched the entire building, Belikov, she's not there. Where is Vasilisa?"

"I don't know what-"

Another blow steals the words from his throat.

The abuse continues.

One punch sends Dimitri's face to my direction again, and I see everything. A black eye, a split lip, a bruised jaw. Oh God...

"Where is she?" Viktor hisses.

"I. Don't. Know. What. You're. Talking. About." And Dimitri spits a mouthful of blood at his shoes.

With a sigh, Viktor slams the tip of his boot into Dimitri's gut, sending him toppling over, desperately trying to rake in enough breath. Viktor slides his boot under his ribs and wipes the blood and saliva off of the dark leather.

"Now, Rosemarie. I think it's your turn."

I hear a groan of protest from Dimitri, who still writhes on the ground in pain.

"Go ahead!" I blurt. "Torture me! Kill me! It won't matter! You can do whatever you want to me, Dashkov, but I will not let you anywhere near Lissa. Anything you do to me will just remind me why I need to protect her!"

Viktor grins. "Precisely. Why do you think we've questioned your ex-lover first? I know you, Rosemarie. I know you wouldn't give up any information no matter what we inflicted upon you..."

Taking a few steps back, Viktor places the sole of his shoe on Dimitri's temple and grounds it into the wooden floorboards. "But, my dear, I don't intend to do a single thing to you."

With the swift wave of his hand, a dhampir swoops down, carving a trail into Dimitri's back with his stake.

I scream.

"No!"

"Where is Vasilisa?"

I bite my lip, and cast my eyes downwards as another stripe is cut into his flesh.

The brutality continues, and Dimitri's shirt, and back, is torn to pieces. Nothing, nothing Viktor could have done to me could have had the same impact as what I am now witnessing. They torture him, marking marks that would undoubtedly scar. I'm breaking.

And he knows it.

Tears are streaming down my face, and I call out to him, sob, scream profanities. Anything to drown out the noise of his painful cries.

I jerk my wrists from the guard's grasps and throw myself at Dimitri's body. Shielding his form with my own, I bury my face into his neck, waiting for the blows to continue.

But they don't.

"Well, I see young Rosemarie does have a breaking point..."

I am peeled away from him, despite my jerky movements and attempted fight. "Don't touch him!"

Dimitri is pulled up as well, blood seeping through what left of his t-shirt.

"Well, Rosemarie? We're waiting..." Viktor taunts.

"Okay!" I sob. "Okay! She's..."

Oh God. Could I really betray my best friend?

We were like sisters. We had been through everything together. Teachers, boys, death. I couldn't just throw it all away, could I?

Then again, I couldn't let Dimitri die. Neither one of us would want that...

But they come first.

Right?

"She's with the fortune teller. Near... near the spa on the other side of Court. Rhonda. Ambrose's aunt. Please don't hurt her! Please..."

Viktor's guards release me, letting me fall onto the wooden floor, sobbing, as they storm passed the pews, off to find Lissa.

And Dimitri and I are dragged down the aisles of the church, away from Viktor.

Who is grinning smugly.

~xXx~

We are deposited into the church's attic, thrown amongst piles of papers and books.

Doesn't every vampire chapel have an attic? And did they all have to be filled with ancient, useless information, all written down on hundreds of thousands of sheets of paper.

Dimitri emits a low groan, and I immediately cease my streaming tears and crawl over to him. I rip the t-shirt away, hissing in sympathy pain.

"How bad is it?" He rumbles softly.

"Not so bad," I lie, and dab at the welts on his back with a scrap of my own shirt.

He grunts and tenses, but doesn't say a word, and neither one of us speaks. I do a fast, half-decent job of cleaning him up and quickly push myself off of the ground. I turn my back and allow him to rise into sitting position without hiding his pain.

Digging my hands into piles of papers, I let them drop onto the floor.

"Why did you do it?" he asks softly, breaking through our silence.

"Do what?" I ask, piling the papers and cardboard.

"Lie to Viktor about Vasilisa's whereabouts. They're going to realize that she's not there. And then what do you think he'll do to you?"

I sigh. "He can do whatever the fu-"

"Rose..."

"...he can do whatever he wants to me. But there is no way in hell he's going to hurt you. Or Lissa. Or Adrian." I dump another load of papers onto the ground with added enthusiasm.

I can imagine him raising a brow at me, but I refuse to turn his way. "And you think he's just going to let us go? Be reasonable, Roza, denial isn't like you."

Roza.

"I'm not in denial. And I'm not your Roza. Not anymore."

"Rose..."

"No!" I pick up an entire box of files and spill them across the floorboards. "No, Dimitri. I was a different person then. I was naive. I was stupid. Not anymore. I've changed. You've changed me."

I hear a shaky breath from behind me. "Roza, please, I don't even know how to begin to apologize for what I had done in Russia. I feel guilt beyond what you believe, a self-hatred that seems to be a part of me. Rose, believe me, if I could have taken it all back, if I could have made you stay in Montana, I would-"

I send a tower of cardboard boxes tumbling to the ground, breaking his sentence. "No, Dimitri. I'm not angry with you. I've forgiven you. It's you who has been wallowing in guilt and self-pity for all of these months. I forgave you as soon as you came back, and thought everything would be like it was. I loved you. But you turned me away. You just rejected me. Nothing from the past mattered. And I tried to give you time, tried to wait for you. But I'm done waiting for things to fall into place. It's not going to happen. I'm not going to just wait to die, wait for things to get better, wait for you to come back to me."

I brace my foot against the wall and tug at the window sill. With enough force, the left side of the wooden frame pulls right off of the wall.

"No, Dimitri, I'm done waiting. Things don't get better. Not with you, not with Mason's death, not with this. I don't need Lissa's help, I don't need some therapist's help, and I certainly do not need your help."

I throw the length of wood over my shoulder like a baseball bat and slam it against the wall, splintering it.

"I have to do things for myself."

I kneel in the centre of the chaos and begin to work.

"Rose, what are you going to do?" He asks, his voice small, so small.

I look up from my place on the floor. Papers are scattered around me, spiraling in a long, white train, every piece connected. I bend over the splinters of woods and continue to saw away at one piece with the other. I can already feel the slivers that are burrowing into my skin, the blood that is beginning to well at my fingertips.

"I'm going to burn the chapel down."

~xXx~

Finally! The plot is picking back up! Hallelujah!

Rose is finally hardening up. I have to admit, while writing this, she definitely reminded me of Janine.