This drabble is set in an AU Universe.

It was of the only places in town we'd go to. The only place that would take my fake to be honest. Dougal's was a hole-in-the-wall bar that had the best onion rings, deep-fried battered mushroom caps, and the cheapest booze.

It also was one of the places where everyone looked out for another. The staff were pretty on top of things, and any rowdy behaviour wasn't accepted when it was mixed with high amounts of alcohol. Lissa liked the ambiance, Mia liked the selection of men, Sydney liked that they carried her favourite whiskey. A red Canadian cask that she couldn't find anywhere else in town.

I liked it because it reminded me of my father. This was the kind of place he would have loved to be in. It was comfortable and mysterious at the same time. Just like him.

I sighed and sipped my gin, letting my eyes wander over the darkened room as I leaned back into the booth, enjoying the slight buzz running through my veins.

I noticed a figure across the room that had some familiarity. He was tall, tall enough that you tell even though he was sitting. He was alone too, nursing a glass in the corner of the room. But what I really noticed was what he was wearing. A duster, not something you'd see every day and his hair was long, tied neatly at the nape of his neck with a few pieces astray.

"Sydney? Who is that? I swear I know him from somewhere," I asked leaning into her, jerking my head towards the familiar man. Sydney searched the room before landing on the man in question.

"Oh. That's the TA from our Lit. Psychology class. I think his name is D something? I can't remember his first name, just that his last name is Belikov," Sydney explained.

Ah, yes. Dimitri. The TA that everyone girl in our class swooned over at one point or another. He was gorgeous and had an accent that would make my heart skip a beat every once in a while. He was quiet for a TA but when someone needed help, he was quick to provide it, and sometimes he was even more clear than the professor.

He usually had a happy and confident air to him, but tonight, he just looked sad. And a little lost.

I watched him for about ten minutes as I finished my drink, noticing that he seemed to be stuck on a spot on the table. It was as if he was stuck in his own world.

"I'll be right back," I said to the girls as I slipped out of my spot, taking my drink with me.

"Rose? What are you doing?" Lissa asked with furrowed brows.

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing. I'm just going to talk to someone. I'll be right back," I placated with a chuckle, moving through the tables before coming to a stop in front of his table. Even my approach didn't draw him away from his stare.

"You know, you're eyes are going to go cross-eyed if you keep starring at the table," I joked with a soft smile, raising my brows at him when he looked up. It seemed like it took him a second to clue in that someone was talking to him.

"Really? I think you'd go cross-eyed before me, Rose. You happen to stare off quite frequently in class," he returned, his voice thick was a bit thicker than usual. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he tried to mask it in class, but his accent was quite beautiful.

I sat down in the chair across from him and set my glass down, giving him a soft smile. We had spoken a few times in class, usually when I needed to bounce something off someone that knew something. But a few times we had talked about other things like how we shared a common interest in fitness and sports.

"I couldn't help but notice that you look a little down. Are you okay?"

Dimitri's eyes flicked to me and his lips pressed into a firm line. "I've been better. Not that you need to worry yourself with that."

I shrugged. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I don't think anyone is used to seeing you so down."

Dimitri titled his head to the side with a small shrug. "Not many people see me outside of the classroom to begin with," he replied, raising a brow at me. I smirked and raised my glass to my lips.

"I've seen you here a few times, considering you aren't old enough to be in here," he said with a slight smirk, brushing his hand back from his face. He was clearly changing the subject. I'd allow it. It seemed like he didn't want to linger on his state.

"I'm Turkish, legal drinking age for Turks is eighteen," I joked with a shrug. My dad let me drink with him at home when I was seventeen. "I like it here. It sounds crazy, but it makes me feel closer to my dad."

Dimitri regarded me for a moment with caution. "Did he pass?"

"No. He works internationally for the government. I'm lucky if I see him once or twice a year," I said twisting my glass between my palms, "It wasn't so bad when I was a kid, but once I was in my sophomore year of high school, he started doing more work abroad."

"I'm sorry, that must have been rough."

"It was. My mom died when I was little, so he never wanted to be too far. I guess I just feel homesick sometimes," I sighed. I frowned down at my glass before gulping the rest of my drink back. "I'm sorry. That was really heavy and a not something you needed to be concerned about," I said with an awkward laugh, shaking my head slightly. I looked up and found Dimitri watching me with a soft look.

"Don't apologize. I've read a few of your papers, there's always been something lingering in between the lines. But after what you've said, everything seems to be a bit clearer," he said honestly, shifting in his seat so he leaned against his arms.

I tensed a little bit as I thought over all the assignments I'd submitted. "You read 'Little Foot'?"

"I did. It happened to be one of my favourites out of the three classes I assist with. Where did that come from?" Dimitri said with a smile.

I smirked. "Mom used to call me that. She always said that I was a heavy kicker when she was pregnant but had the tiniest feet. Both my parents called me that. Dad still does. It felt appropriate for what the topic was," I replied, rolling my sleeve to reveal the sprawl of ink on my forearm.

The topic of the article was phrases or words that had meanings to you but not to others.

Dimitri tilted his head to look at it. "Who's handwriting?"

"My dad's. I got it on my sixteenth birthday."

Dimitri extended his hand out and I stretched mine out too, allowing him to look at it better. It stun like a bitch being done, but it was worth it to carry a bit of my parents around with me.

"It's beautiful. Despite the heartache you write about, I'm glad you have such a close relationship with your father," Dimitri said thoughtfully. I wondered just how much of my assignments he graded, we had handed in quite a few since the start of term.

I pulled my hand back and looked down at my almost empty glass, frowning at it. I set a limit for how many drink I would have a night, and I was quickly approaching my limit. I sipped what was left of it as we sat in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, it was actually quite pleasant. Well Dimitri's low mood was still present, but I didn't feel the need to fill the lapse of conversation.

"My best friend died a year ago today," Dimitri said suddenly but quietly, almost a whisper. I frowned and asked the waiter for two more drinks as he passed by us.

"I'm so sorry," I said quietly, wanting to provide some physical comfort of squeezing his free hand, but thought better against it.

"Thank you," Dimitri said, "It was very sudden."

"Can I ask what happened?"

Dimitri's brows pinched together. "Car accident. We were driving to my mother's house back in Russia. The storm was worse than I anticipated. A driver veered into our lane and hit us. It took them almost an hour to find us," he explained as he kept his gaze on his glass. "But I don't have to tell you what that is like," he added a moment later, indicating that he read more than one of my papers.

The whole point of the class was to use writing and literature to teach us about psychology and identify patterns. But it also helped provide a way for everyone cope with their own personal demons. We analyzed books like Gatsby and The Picture of Dorian Grey, but sometimes it was the thrillers that were best. Sydney used the class to help express the damage years of living in an over-zealous religious household, I used the class to lift some of the burden of my painful childhood.

Dimitri lost his best friend because someone drove into the wrong lane. I lost my mom to a drunk driver. Both of us were victims of the accident too. Him being the in the driver's seat, me sitting in the backseat.

I raised my glass up. "To Janine," I said quietly.

Dimitri followed my gesture and lifted his glass too. "To Ivan," he replied quietly, clinking his glass against mine.

"Thank you for telling me," I said gently. It wasn't easy to admit something like that, and it had taken me years to be able to open up about it.

Dimitri nodded his head and almost smiled to himself. "Thank you for listening. I didn't think it would be easy to tell you that."

I shrugged. "Sometimes it's easier to grieve in pairs. Sometimes you just need to tell it to someone that knows that kind of pain."

I got a real smile from him, one that reached up to his eyes and made them crinkle. "I'm glad to see that you do in fact pay attention in class," he said with a dry chuckle. I rolled my eyes and brought my glass to my lips, taking a sip.

"Hey. I didn't take the class because I wasn't interested. The only problem is that it's at eight in the morning on a Monday."

Dimitri canted his head to the side in agreeance. "Yes, well, if I have any more of these I'll barely function tomorrow. Can't let everyone know how I spent my Sunday night."

I looked over to the clock, realizing that we had been talking for more time than I thought. I also caught Sydney looking at me, tapping her watch. I sighed and turned back to Dimitri.

"It looks like my roommates are ready to leave. See you in class tomorrow?"

Dimitri nodded. "Of course."

"Well, good night."

I turned to head back when Dimitri called out to me. "Rose?"

"Yeah?" I said turning back to face him.

"I really do appreciate our chat. It helped," he said, his eyes looking a little brighter than before and his shoulders not as tense.

"Glad I could help," I said, "It was good practice."

Dimitri laughed and nodded while I turned and headed back to the girls. They all had curious looks on their faces as I approached.

"What?"

"Good chat?" Mia asked, peeking over my shoulder to look at Dimitri. I rolled my eyes and picked up my bag and my coat.

"It was nothing. Just a chat," I replied, giving a smile in Dimitri's direction as we left.

I tapped my finger on the cover of the book we were currently read when a document was set on my desk. I smiled at my professor and took the paper back, zeroing in on the beautiful handwriting and high mark at the top.

I wonder where you got the idea for 'Grieving in Pairs'.

I smirked to myself and looked up to find my new favourite TA sitting near the front of the room, and looked away as he turned to look at me.

This was probably the most emotional paper I wrote for this class. It felt like I had finally come to terms with my mom's death with the help of hearing about someone else's similar grief. I cried a few times while writing it, and once I submitted it, it felt like a boulder of weight had been lifted off of me.

I wondered if our conversation helped lift that weight off his shoulders too.

Let me know what you think!:)