Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy or anything surrounding it (but I do own this plot :D)

RPOV

Or perhaps not.

Thankfully though, the problem to which I refer had nothing to do with ghosts, darkness or blindness: the problem was of a much more normal level.

Avery Lazar was in love with Adrian Ivashkov.

It was almost comical how normal an issue it was given the rest of the crap that was going on. Though I suppose that it was all a matter of perspective as while it was positively normal, mundane even, for me, it was a lot more to a certain Christian Ozera.

"It is getting ridiculous: she follows him everywhere and laughs, oh God does she laugh! At everything! Adrian will begin to think he's actually funny the way she's giggling and fawning over him like a starving hound drooling over a piece of meat."

I took another bite of my sandwich. "You know, you are in a relationship."

He looked up. "Yeah, so?"

"So why is this bothering you?"

He glowered. "Because I have to watch it. She's Lissa's friend and for some bizarre reason, Adrian is ours, thus I am forced to partake in the observation of this gag-worthy display."

Another bite. "Aren't you being a little melodramatic?"

"Absolutely not!"

"And hypocritical."

He scowled. "Lissa and I have never fawned over each other like that."

I scoffed, nearly choking on the bite I had just taken. "Oh, I beg to differ."

His scowl deepened. "I hate you."

"Right back at you, Fireboy."

He grunted and flopped back on the grass to cast his eyes up towards the starry night sky. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

I stopped chewing and countered. "Aren't you?"

He poked his head up and grinned. "Free period, mate: what's your excuse?"

I grimaced. "I'm in hiding."

"Ah, from the Leprechaun."

That was, in part, true. Killian hadn't done anything wrong - not at all - if anything, he was doing too good a job. I needed some peace and quiet; some time just on my own without him looming over me like a fly buzzing over a dying carcass. It wasn't just him - with the darkness keeping me on the verge of crazy and ghosts popping up left right and centre, I really missed my independence: the ability to run around and basically do what the hell I liked. Ironically, with those very things going on, it hadn't really crossed my mind too much, but now it had quelled a little, it was really starting to bother me. So I decided to take some action: I waited until the between period, lost Killian in the crowd, ditched my next lesson and came out to the back of the running field to eat my lunch in peace.

Then Christian showed up and gone was my peace.

Nah, it wasn't that bad. To be completely honest, I didn't really mind having Christian about given that he was perhaps the only person in my life not directly connected to a point of strife. And ever since the Field Experience fiasco, I would be lying to say we hadn't come a little closer. I definitely understood him a little better which had manifested itself into a strangely compatible friendship and that was okay. He was, to me, like the music in my headphones: easily ignored, but a nonetheless pleasant addition to my day.

"Did you finally manage to patch things up with Adrian?" I asked, having finished my sandwich.

The response came twofold: with an initial incoherent grunt followed by a "Yeah, we're alright. But I still don't like him."

I hummed in agreement. "Nor do I."

A snort followed. "Liar."

I sighed and flopped back beside him so that we both were looking up at the cloudless sky. "It must be better now that Lissa's cut back on the magic."

He closed his eyes. "So-so. Now she just feels completely guilt-ridden. She just…" He stopped and opened his eyes, his brows falling into a frown before becoming more settled. "She's just too caring: it's what I both love and loathe about her."

I smiled. "You and me both. Though I'm glad she's cut back, for her sake more than anything else."

"Avery seemed a little disappointed."

I blinked. "What?"

He shrugged. "She just was a lot quieter after she found out."

"Why?"

He huffed. "I dunno - she just seemed a little miffed, that's all."

"Huh," I said, refocusing on the stars above. Why would Avery be bothered? Maybe Christian was just over-exaggerating; after all, he wasn't exactly a fan of Avery if the last twenty minutes were anything to go by. Urgh, no - not thinking about it. I did not need another problem in my life. I had come for peace and that's what I very much intended on doing.

"You get that math test back?"

Christian groaned. "Professor Bailey is an arse. No way did I fail that."

I cocked a brow. "It's math: you're either right or you're not."

He scoffed. "Method marks, Hathaway: it's all about the method marks."

"Being right also helps." I pointed out. I felt his elbow jab my side. "What you get then?"

"D-."

"Oh, that is barely a pass!"

"Still a pass." He snorted and shook his head. I laughed. "It was a stupid test anyway. I mean, when are we going to need the Product Rule?"

"Point." He agreed. "Though I would also argue when are we ever going to need the inner workings of King Lear, but Amanda seems pretty set on it."

"Maybe we can just agree that school is stupid."

"Academia is stupid." Christian amended.

I nodded. "Yeah, training is definitely not."

He sighed. "You are so lucky."

"Come again?"

He smiled. "You. Dhampirs. Even Lissa. I mean, I get the objection to having one set career path, but it is nice to know that your life has meaning. Has a purpose. Mine is all over the place." He said, resting his forearm against his forehead and stretching out his back.

"You'll be fine. You'll find something, even if it isn't immediately obvious." I said.

"Does Belikov know what he's doing?"

I sat up and glared at him. "I beg your pardon."

Christian, realizing he had hit a nerve, was quick to recover. "Woah, not like that. I know he is trying to continue the guardian thing, but does he have a plan if it falls through?"

"It won't."

He shot me a look. "Rose, get your head out of the sand: there is a chance that this won't work, and you know it. Disabled guardians aren't common for a reason. My aunt knew a guy, Patrick I think his name was. Anyway, it was at some conference a couple of years back and this guardian lost his leg in the attack that occurred. They stitched him up okay but sent him home. He couldn't fight. He wanted to, but he couldn't. And worse still, he couldn't accept that and nor could his buddies. They brought him right back, gave him a prosthetic, and even got his brother to help him train, but when they were under attack again, that prosthetic broke and he was killed. I know you don't want to think about it, Rose, but Belikov is blind. That makes him vulnerable, no matter which way you look at it."

I could feel my anger still within me but deep down, I knew he was right. Of course, he was. It was the unspoken reality of the situation now spoken in plain English. With the esteem that I held Dimitri in, it was sometimes hard to remember that he was still just a man. But a man he was and now one restricted and hindered. To me, of course, he was still everything; nothing had changed in my eyes, but it was cruelly ironic that love had blinded me to the reality of the situation.

I closed my eyes tightly, willing the worries of my life to disappear into the night. Pathetic, maybe, but I didn't care. "I know. I know he is vulnerable, but Dimitri is Guardian Belikov: it is what he wants, what he is good at and what he knows."

"I know, Rose," Christian said, crossing his legs and sitting up properly. "But just in case he can't be Guardian Belikov, let him be happy somewhere else."

The distant wail of the school bell caught both our attention and broke the silence that had followed Christian's last statement. Christian sighed and pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the dirt and mud from his trousers. "Magic time," he said, picking up his bag from the floor.

I smiled and nodded, knowing that I really ought not to miss my curricular training. "Christian," I said.

"Mhmm?" He said looking up.

I bit my lip. "Thank you."

He smiled, neither mockingly nor sarcastically. "Anytime, Hathaway. Anytime."

A(drian)POV

When I consider how my light is spent… I sighed and swirled the glass of whiskey in my hand. I always felt contemplative after a glass of the sharp, golden liquor. The good stuff too: none of that cheap shite. Nah, this one came from the Misty Isle itself - Skye's sweet kiss.

"What are you doing?" came a voice through my consciousness.

I did not open my eyes, nor did I cease the gentle tilting of my head as I imagined myself swept up in a soothing sea breeze. "Retiring to Scotland."

The voice laughed and the sound of footsteps grew louder until they found themselves in front of me. I could smell her perfume brush over me and merge with the natural scent of the water-tinted wind that I had pictured for myself as she bent down to inspect the opened bottle on the table beside me.

"Urgh, how can you drink that stuff."

I smiled and opened my eyes. "Ah, my dear Avery: you have much to learn."

She scoffed and sat down on the armchair beside me. "What are you doing here?" She asked again, gesturing to the abandoned common room on the third floor. Nobody was in here, not least because lessons were still occurring, but also no one could be bothered to make the climb, so the space had been slowly gathering dust. I like to think it was I who resurrected it: brought it from its dusty ashes and back into the light! For this had become the place in which Vasilisa and I had been practising, nurturing her talent and even when I had expressly told her to stop, this was the place I found her, still practising for Belikov. Yet now she had stopped - and thankfully so - and so the room had fallen back into its lonely and ignored state.

Perfect for some midday drinking.

"I am enjoying the peace," I said, taking another sip.

She frowned. "What, no wardens?"

I shook my head. "I do believe that they are more concerned with the communal spaces on the lower floors."

Her eyes brightened. "Oh, jackpot!" She said, jumping up and pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

I chuckled and watched her light one. "I think they might notice that."

She shrugged and took a drag. I smiled, enjoying her carefree attitude. Avery was so uncomplicated; it was a blessing to be sure. If only Rose could be more like that; then again, if Rose were any less Rose she would not be the one my heart so fluttered for. Ah, alas.

"So, what's this I hear about Lissa? She's not, what did you call it...practising?" Avery asked, perching on the side of the armchair.

I sighed away my thoughts of Rose and turned my attention to Avery. "Spirit is an unstable one - it can so easily send us off the edge. My cousin needed to stop, for her own sake."

"But she could do so many cool things."

I smiled. "Magic, in whatever form it takes, has its price and its limits."

"It doesn't have to," she said with a smile, blowing out a puff of smoke.

I sighed and chucked back the rest of my drink, feeling the burn slowly ooze its way down my throat to rest in my stomach. I lingered a little before placing the glass down and deciding to be sociable. "How is Reed?"

Avery shot me a worried look. "W-what?"

I frowned. "Was your brother not admitted to the hospital earlier this evening?"

She looked relieved. "Oh, that...yeah, he's fine."

My frown stayed. "He does seem to have a... disposition for violence," I said.

She sighed loudly. "Yeah, he was always like that. Guess he takes after my dad." She said taking another drag.

I nodded my head in agreement, after all, I could well relate to the bad-dad situation. "We all have our ways," I said, eyeing up the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

Avery's expression suddenly turned contemplative. "Why do you drink so much? Is it because of your dad or…?"

I laughed - well, it was more of a chuckle combined with a scoff. "My father is responsible for many of my idiosyncrasies, but it would be too easy to blame him for them all." I nodded over to the bottle. "It numbs the darkness."

Her frown deepened. "Your magic. It... numbs it…?"

I leaned back. "Makes it all the more bearable. And it makes me a far more desirable catch." I added with a wink.

She rolled her eyes, but I could tell I had sparked her intrigue. "How drunk do you have to be?"

I shrugged. "Not very. Just enough to make the tension go away. Madness doth offer no overly-exciting enticements." I said, leaning back against the chair.

At this, her tone changed. "Perhaps I could offer you a different enticement…"

I opened my eyes. A wide and a little unsavoury grin spread across my face. "Why, Miss Lazar…" I said, tilting my head down to look at her. "Are you about to seduce me?"

She smiled and blew smoke from her pouted lips. "Do you want me to?"

I cocked a brow. "Ah, if I told you what I wanted, what would be the point in seduction?"

She grinned and put out her cigarette on the coaster beside her. "Maybe there is no point at all…"

I shook my head. "I am a man of many levels."

She stood up. "I don't think you are."

I mock gasped. "Why, I am hurt!"

She bent down, her lips millimetres from my own. "I think you are as simple as simple can be." And she closed the gap between us. I let her but didn't give too much in return. She wasn't a bad kisser; in fact, she was perfectly fine. Under normal circumstances, I would have taken her then and there. However, under normal circumstances, I would not be thinking about a certain brown-haired lass who was very much off the market. Under normal circumstances, I would not feel so bad as I kissed a girl who held me in some affection but I did not in return.

Then again, under normal circumstances, I would be far more drunk.

I pulled away, closed my eyes, and looked up at the ceiling. When I reopened them, I saw Avery's frown in front of me. I smiled. "Many levels, Lazar," I said standing up and headed to the door. "Many levels."

RPOV

"Hathaway!"

Oh shit.

I stopped and turned, a warm smile on my face. "Good evening, Guardian O'Hara. How are you today?"

He was not happy, that much was obvious. In fact, I would go so far as to venture that he was furious, which was not something I had seen on the kind-hearted Irishman before and I did not suit him at all. "What the hell?"

"Look, I just needed-"

"I don't care," he said, cutting me off. "I don't care what you think you 'needed'."

I frowned and put my hands on my hips, not backing down even slightly. "I needed some space, okay? A little time on my own."

He crossed his arms over his chest. It was a warm night so he was without his forest-green coat which would have toned down the raging expression on his face, now emphasised by the folded arms and the rigid posture. "And that was worth compromising Guardian Belikov's training?"

I snapped my head up. "I beg your pardon?"

He, uncompromising, continued to glare down at me. "You wandered off: you broke the agreement. I should report this. Actually, I have to report this. And given that it is a complete breach of the conditions of this arrangement," he said gesturing between us, "punishment must follow and that puts Guardian Belikov at risk given that he is your only perk."

I froze. Who was this man and what had he done to my Hazza? This was far more serious than the slap on the wrist I was expecting. Oh, shit, shit, shit! "You wouldn't…" I said, unsure and wary.

"I have to." came the cool and indifferent reply.

"Killian…"

"It is protocol."

That set me off. "It's his fucking life!"

He met my eyes. "You broke the rules, Rose." He said with no little firmness. "Again" He added. "Yet again, you have proved yourself incapable of following a simple set of instructions."

"Look, I'm sorry, I give you my word-"

"Your word means nothing." He said. I felt like I had just been kicked in the stomach, so much so that no coherent word came out of my open mouth. I watched as Killian's jaw tensed; he looked away for a moment before fixing his jaw and looking back. "Do you think I want to do this?"

"Then don't."

"That's not the point." He snapped. A moment passed and his tension broke into exasperation. "You haven't learnt..."

I groaned. "I know I did wrong and need to be punished-"

"No." He cut me off so sharply that it made me jump. "You don't get it. Everything has consequences, whether good, bad, or somewhere in between. We do not live in a black-and-white world and we certainly do not live in a world where you can do whatever the hell you please, whether it be skipping class or running into a bloody cave or whatever else takes your fancy. Jesus Christ, Rose: grow up." He turned his back and ran his hands through his hair.

I stayed silent. I was going to reuse my 'protocol sucks' speech from years previous, but even I could see that perhaps would not be the best move. Killian continued to stand facing away from me. For the first time in our acquaintance, I was actually scared of Guardian Killian O'Hara. With all his awkward yet still kind ways giving off a distinct sense of naivety, I had severely underestimated the man. His friendliness had made me forget that he was an actual guardian, as in, Dimitri-level guardian. He had been through the very process I had yet to complete and had come out the other end as a fully certified and experienced guardian. In my head, I had made him to be just one of my mates - a pal - rather than what he was: my superior.

And that mistake, that miscalculation of standing, had now left me at his mercy.

He still was looking away when I heard him sigh so loudly it morphed into a groan. In a blink, he had turned and looked at me dead in the eye. "Right, I am not going to say a word to-"

"Thank you!" the words slipped out before I could stop them.

Killian didn't look at all happy at my interruption but clenched his jaw and continued. "I am not doing this for you. That man has suffered enough, and I will not be responsible for taking away the thing that gets him out of his room in the morning," he said. "But this is not for you, Hathaway - you got that?

"Yeah, yeah, I got it-"

"And you are going to have to do some serious making up for this."

I frowned.

He glared. "I mean it, Rose. Recklessness is a sure way to get yourself killed. Not to mention those around you. Have a little more care."

I scowled. "Fine." So much for feeling sorry for the man, Killian O'Hara could rot in hell for all I cared after that particular statement. Of course, I cared about those around me, and of course, I knew my actions had consequences. I wasn't a fucking child! And yet still people insisted on talking to me like I was one; like I was just going to run riot at any given point. It was insulting. It was patronizing. I fucking hated it.

And so, whatever good mood I might have obtained by my little chat with Christian in the field was promptly shut down. I was in a foul mood for the rest of the day, not even Lissa could cheer me up. Killian stuck to me like he had impaled me with a whaling harpoon and didn't look the least bit sorry about it. I felt a pang of regret about the whole thing: for because of me, gone was the happy Leprechaun and in had come the fiery Celt.

And with this Celt went my freedom.

A(drian)POV

I wandered lonely as a cloud… Ah, solace. Peace. Quiet. Silence the friend who could turn fiend at will, yet not today - silence stayed my friend.

I groaned. The feeling of yourself sobering up was always a depressing feeling. Added to mine was the looming presence of a magic that sought to both raise me up and kill me at the same time. I felt like a mess and, as such, was glad that I had stayed away in my room, away from any witnesses to my reality.

I lay on my bed and looked at the ceiling; the strange patterns swirling in my head, almost hypnotising me to sleep. But I was not tired. I closed my eyes and allowed the magic to run through me, reaching out for Rose but unable to find her. Not asleep. Probably screwing Belikov, my malicious and jealous mind thought, and I was too much of both those things to feel bad about it. I hummed and began searching out for another victim, just to spook (I was bored, leave me alone). There were not many asleep, it was only half three in the morning: hardly a suitable time to be asleep in my opinion, but all to their own.

I felt a strong connection form and I decided to pounce. The world moulding around me as quickly as it did told me that the person was in a deep sleep. At half three!? What kind of loser-? I cut myself off as I found myself staring into the eyes of another.

"Adrian?"

The working eyes of another…

"Belikov."