Cursed

*Rosaia belongs to iflip4dolphins.

"I think we should go out tonight," Isabel declared.

"Mhm." Isabel frowned at Rosaia, whose gaze hadn't left the book in her hands. She plopped down on the couch next to her and tore the book away, effectively getting Rosaia's full attention. "I was reading that," she said.

"And now you're not," Isabel replied. "Like I was saying, we should have a girl's night. We can go to that new bar and flirt with guys so they buy us free drinks."

"You have a boyfriend," Rosaia pointed out.

"Yes, but free drinks."

"You could buy the entire bar," the redhead retorted.

"That's not the point," Isabel said with a huff. "Look, do you want to go out, or do you want to stay here with your nose in that book the entire night?"

"I'm going to go with the book."

"Rosaia, you've already read it! Ned Stark and his friends will be waiting for you when we get back."

She let out an irritated sigh. "Fine, let's go."

Isabel excitedly shot up off the couch and grabbed her coat. She was a little nervous about the whole thing. She didn't really go anywhere unless Alistair dragged her out of her house, but she thought that it was time to finally venture out on her own volition. Rosaia would be there, anyway.

The redhead grabbed her keys and coat, and Isabel put herself between her and the door, holding a hand up to stop her.

"You're not going out like that, are you?" she asked, her eyes traveling over her friend's simple shirt and jeans.

Rosaia just glared at her. "We're going to a bar, Isabel, not walking down a runway."

"But—"

"Just go get in the car, Izzy." Isabel bristled at the nickname, rolling her eyes as she made her way out of the dorm room. It was such a stupid nickname, and Rosaia knew how much it bothered her to be called that. Funny how it never bothered her when Alistair said it…

Once the two of them got in the car, Isabel double-checked her and Rosaia's seatbelts to make sure they were buckled in properly. Once she deemed they were as safe as they could be, she let out a deep breath and nodded at her friend, who had patiently waited for her to assess everything. One day she would be able to get into a car and not worry about bad things happening… but today was not that day.

They headed for the new bar that had opened up just outside of F.U.'s campus, turning the car's radio off after hearing the same few songs over and over again. The longer they drove, the more nervous Isabel grew. It was cold and dark, and the roads were probably covered in black ice—it was an accident waiting to happen.

Nervously biting her lip, Isabel glanced over to Rosaia, who was perfectly calm as she drove. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she muttered.

The redhead quickly looked to Isabel before returning her eyes to the road. "Do you want to go back?"

"Yes," she breathed, restraining herself from grabbing the handle right above the passenger door's window.

"Then we'll go back."

Isabel sighed in relief, but her anxiety was still through the roof. They were going back to the safety of Rosaia's dorm room, but they still had to get there. "What part are you up to?"

"In Game of Thrones?" she asked, and Isabel nodded. Rosaia started telling her the story, and even though she was already familiar with it, she was grateful for the distraction. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest, listening to the smooth cadence of Rosaia's Irish accent as she tried to breathe evenly.

She started to relax, until Rosaia abruptly stopped speaking. At the sound of her gasp, Isabel's eyes flew open, just in time to see a blazing white light quickly approaching the driver's side of the car. A second later she was screaming as she was lurched sideways, pain exploding behind her eyes. Her vision blurred, and then everything faded to black.

…

Isabel awoke to the faint sound of voices and a blazing headache. Trying to focus around the loud thumping in her head, she tried to remember where she was and how she got there, when it suddenly came back to her.

She'd been in another car accident.

A light shone over her, and she winced as she turned to the source. A firefighter was pointing a bright flashlight into her face as he was saying something to her. She tried to read his lips but couldn't, because he was upside-down—no, she was upside down.

"… going to get you and your friend out, miss."

Rosaia.

Isabel whirled her head around, blinking rapidly as the world around her spun. She caught a glimpse of Rosaia's red hair, but once her muddled vision started to clear, she saw that it wasn't her hair… it was her blood.

Isabel lost it. The sight of her unconscious friend held to her seat by only her seatbelt, her body just dangling there, covered in blood, brought back memories of her previous accident. Her mind flooded with flashbacks from that horrible nightmare, and she broke down and cried.

Sobbing and wailing, she relived the night her family died, praying that the same thing didn't happen to Rosaia. She couldn't go through that again. She couldn't.

Isabel was too lost to her own grief and fear to pay much attention to what was going on around her. One minute she was still stuck in the car, and the next, she was pulled out of it and carried over to an ambulance. They pulled out Rosaia next, and the sight of her tiny body mangled and bloody and broken sent another wave of sobs through her. Her brother had looked the same way and he'd died on impact. She waited for them to confirm it, to place a sheet over her body the same way they had her brother's, but they didn't. Isabel let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as they loaded Rosaia into an ambulance to get her to the hospital.

She was still alive… for now.

Isabel fought against the paramedics trying to attend to her, desperate to get to Rosaia before her ambulance left. They told her to sit down and stop struggling, but she didn't listen, screaming at them before limping over to the ambulance and demanding to ride with them.

She sat back and watched as the paramedics tried to save Rosaia's life, all the while remembering how they'd tried to do the same thing for her parents. Isabel could barely breathe, her breaths coming in short gasps and pants, tears streaming down her face as she stared at her friend through fuzzy vision.

When they arrived at the hospital, the paramedics rushed Rosaia inside, Isabel hobbling along after them. The bright lights and loud commotion of the emergency room made her head hurt even more, but she tried to shake it off. She had to stay with Rosaia until she knew she was going to be okay… if she was going to be okay…

"Are you all right?" a nurse asked.

"I'm fine," Isabel muttered, trying to push past the nurse. "I need to get to my friend—"

"You're not allowed through those doors," the nurse explained. "Your friend is going into surgery."

"S-Surgery?" Isabel bit her trembling lip, on the verge of tears again. The nurse started to explain what they were going to do to Rosaia, but Isabel couldn't focus on the woman's words, unsteady on her feet as the pain in her head flared.

"Come with me," the nurse said, ushering Isabel to an empty bed. "You need to be tended to."

"No, you d-don't understand!" she whined. "I-I can't lose her, t-too."

"The doctors will do everything they can to save your friend." The nurse sat Isabel down on the bed and started rummaging through the drawers of the nearby supply cart. "In the meantime, we need to take care of you. Is there anyone you need to call?"

The person she'd call was in surgery. She didn't have anyone left besides Rosaia. Everyone she loved was dead… well, everyone except one other person.

Isabel nodded, and the nurse reached behind her to the phone on the wall next to the bed, handing it to Isabel. Her hands shook as she dialed a number she'd had committed to memory for a while now. The line rang a few times before it was answered, a familiar voice reaching her ears from the other side.

"Heeeelllo? Who is this?"

"A-Alistair…" she mumbled, trying to keep it together long enough to speak to him.

"Izzy? What's going on? Why don't I recognize the number you're calling from?"

"It's a h-hospital phone."

She heard him gasp. "The hospital? Isabel, are you all right? Please tell me you're all right," he said, his voice cracking.

"I'm fine. There w-was an accident… Rosaia…" She choked back a sob, and Alistair tried to calm her over the phone.

"Shh, it'll be fine. I'm coming to you right now," he said, the sound of his clothes rustling as he moved around in the background. "I'll be there soon, I promise."

"No!"

"You don't want me to come?"

"I do, I-I just… p-please be careful," she whispered. She wouldn't be able to handle him getting into a car accident, too—especially if it was because he was coming for her. She's caused enough accidents…

"Always," he replied, his voice soft. "I'm leaving now, so I'm going to hang up, okay?"

"Okay."

"Just hang in there, Izzy, you can do it," he said before hanging up. She sniffled, handing the phone back to the nurse. She hung it up before starting to tend to Isabel's injuries. She just sat there, trying to push all the bad memories away as the nurse poked and prodded at her.

The nurse had just finished up when Alistair came running into the emergency room. As soon as his eyes landed on her they grew wide, and he immediately came to her side, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back, relishing in the brief moment of comfort it brought her. Alistair pressed a kiss to her forehead before addressing the nurse.

"Is she all right?"

"Her wrist is sprained and she's got a concussion as well as a few other scrapes and bruises. But she's going to be fine," the nurse said.

"Thank you for taking care of her," he replied, and the nurse nodded before informing them that they could wait out Rosaia's surgery in the waiting room. Alistair helped Isabel over to one of the vacant seats, taking the one right at her side. "You're still shaking," he murmured, attempting to hold her.

She shrugged away from him, biting her lip as she shook her head. "This is all my fault."

"No, it's not," he stated firmly. "None of this is your fault."

"Yes it is!" she shouted, blinking back tears. "Don't you get it? I'm cursed! I'm a death magnet! Everyone I love dies!" Her chest heaved as she broke down into another fit of sobs, Alistair immediately pulling her into his arms. She held him tight, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she wailed, and he rubbed her back, whispering words of comfort to her. "I was the one that wanted to go out," she spluttered, gulping for air. "She's going to die because of me, just like they did."

"Rosaia's not going to die," he muttered into her hair. "That girl's as tough as nails, it's going to take a lot more than a car accident to kill her."

"You d-didn't see her," Isabel forced out, lifting her face to meet his, her eyes wide with fear. "She was s-so broken and there was so m-much blood… M-My family… they…" She couldn't say it, and Alistair nodded, knowing what she was trying to say. She'd only just recently told him exactly what happened that night, and he patiently listened to every vivid, gory detail—details that still haunted her dreams at night. He knew what she'd gone through and how she blamed herself for it, even though it had been a drunk driver that caused the accident.

"Izzy, it's going to be okay."

Isabel shook her head. "You d-don't know that," she breathed. "You and her are a-all I have left. I can't l-lose anyone else, Alistair, I can't."

"Rosaia will be fine, I know it," he said, gently cupping her face with his hand, his thumb wiping away her tears. "And I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'll be here for you as long as you need."

She didn't realize how much of a relief it would be to hear him say that. She was a complete mess and he wasn't shying away from helping her hold herself together. He didn't have to be there, but he was, because he chose to be. He'd always been there for her, ever since they met, no matter what. There were no words for Isabel to explain just how much that meant to her. She tried to show him, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his, holding nothing back.

After the kiss broke, Alistair rested his forehead against hers, nuzzling their faces together. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

Isabel took a deep breath and laid her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. He took her un-splinted hand in his own, lacing their fingers together as they began the long wait through Rosaia's surgery. Isabel was still a mess, her memories and fears haunting her, but Alistair talked her through it and made bad jokes at the expense of the others in the hospital to try and make her feel better.

After what seemed like forever, their waiting finally ended, and a surgeon came into the waiting room to inform them of the success or failure of the surgery. Isabel gripped Alistair's hand like a vice as they walked over to the doctor, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. He started talking about the surgery, but all she could hear was the words of another doctor, telling her that her parents were dead.

"If she makes it through the night, she should make a full recovery," the surgeon concluded.

"Can we see her?" Alistair asked, and the doctor directed them to where she was.

The sight of Rosaia unconscious, wires and tubes connecting her to various machines brought tears to Isabel's eyes again. She moved to Rosaia's bedside, gently brushing her short, red hair from her face.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled. "Please don't die." Alistair held her as they watched her chest slowly rise and fall, the steady rhythm of her heart monitor the only sound in the room. Nurses came in to check her periodically, one of them handing Isabel her friend's personal effects. Rosaia's phone beeped, alerting them to multiple missed calls and texts… all from Zevran.

Isabel's stomach dropped at the thought of telling him what happened—that it was her fault that Rosaia was lying in a hospital bed, her life on the line. Alistair called the other man himself, informing him of the situation.

It wasn't long until Zevran arrived, eyes wide at the sight of Rosaia. Isabel could see the pain on his face and the terror in his eyes, a new wave of guilt crashing over her.

"Is she… going to make it?" he asked, his voice eerily quiet.

"They won't know for sure until morning," Alistair answered.

Zevran nodded, pulling a chair up so he could sit by her bedside. He didn't take his eyes off her as he took her hand and started to speak to her in Italian, his normally smooth voice strained with emotion. The three of them sat by her side and waited for a sign that she was going to make it. She had to wake up…

It was going to be a long night.