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

RPOV

"Look, I am sorry," I said again.

Killian remained indifferent. "No matter how many times you say it, Rose: I am not going anywhere."

"That's not the problem here," I replied. "The problem is that you don't believe me, so I'm going to say it until you do: I am sorry, Guardian O'Hara. I was tired, irritated and overwhelmed: it was a moment of weakness."

"Rose, I don't care."

"Well, aren't you charming..." I muttered, loud enough for him to hear, but it did nothing to his placidity. I groaned and pulled out a pastry that I had nicked from the canteen at breakfast from my pocket.

That got Killian's attention.

"Rose!"

"What? It was just going to be thrown out anyway." I said, taking a massive bite. "Don't tell me that this could have got someone killed too."

He snapped his head up. "Do not make jokes about that."

I glared up at him. "Then stop being such an arse." I took another bite.

I could tell I had pissed him off, but he - in a very Dimitri-like way - composed himself and continued looking forward. "You are such a child."

I glowered. I wanted to retort but decided that it would not be in my best interests. Instead, I slumped further on the bench we were sitting on and munched on my pastry before visiting Lissa.

She was with Avery. Again. Maybe it was just jealousy, but I really didn't like Avery, however entertaining her infatuation with a certain Ivashkov was. They were in the third-floor common room, the place where Lissa and Adrian had practised Spirit, though I doubted Avery knew anything about that.

"...you just have to be patient. Persist, but patience is key. Particularly with someone like Adrian." I felt Lissa say followed by the feeling of cool glass against her lips and then the burn of alcohol run through her body. This felt wrong - not to Lissa, but to me. Lissa never drunk, or very rarely at the most. It would take me hours to get her even to touch a fruity cider, but with Avery, it felt natural to her. As I was in her head, I could feel how normal it seemed.

Avery sighed. "No offense, but fuck that. Adrian will come around soon, I know it," she said, taking a glug of whiskey.

Lissa laughed. "I am glad to see you have such confidence."

Avery frowned. "You didn't? I mean, come on, Princess: you are way out of Christian's league."

Punch her. I felt myself thinking.

"I mean, just look at him: he is pathetic."

Fucking sock the bitch.

Lissa too didn't really appreciate that comment and waivered a little, before making the completely wrong choice: she smiled and said. "I guess, but he's really sweet."

Sweet! Vasilisa Dragomir what the fuck are you doing! You love him!

Avery just shrugged. "Each to their own I guess."

Lissa took another drink before there was a gentle rap at the door. Frowning she looked up and Avery looked around before being irritated with the sight. "Reed? What do you want?"

Reed Lazar: when I met him, he was a dick, to put it frankly. He was a raging ball of anger and fury and since then, he had been frequently disciplined for 'antisocial and violent conduct' and had been hospitalized twice. Clearly, he had a problem and he was not afraid to use his fists to solve it.

Which is why it was so surprising to see him quivering.

And not just a little quiver, this was full-on fear he was exhibiting. Stood there, he had his arms wrapped around his waist, his eyes were wide and frantic; their reddened state indicative that he had been crying. He shivered and shook like he was in the arctic circle in only a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt and he spoke in such a staccato manner that it made it seem he was afraid of every word that left his lips. "A-avery. Can we talk?" he stuttered out edging closer into the room.

Lissa was concerned, to say the least; I was re-evaluating everything I thought I knew. This could not be the same boy and yet…

To my greater shock, Avery seemed completely unfazed by the whole thing. She cocked a brow over to her terrified brother. "What is the matter with you now?"

Reed wasn't looking at her, wasn't even listening. His frantic eyes remained fixed on Lissa's as though she were some alien creature. His face contorted into an expression of horror: with his mouth wide open, nostrils flared, eyebrows arched and sweat covering the whole surface of his face. Lissa, I could feel, felt unnerved and a little scared herself. But Reed's gaze did not avert.

"I hear them, sister," he said, running his trembling hands through his greasy and messy hair; clutching the strands with his fingers as though he were desperately trying to hold on to something. "They won't stop - the voices - the people - they won't stop. I hear them. I hear them."

Avery, now a little more interested in her brother's condition, finished her drink and then rose to walk towards her brother. "I think you might need to lie down."

Reed jumped away from her, still looking at Lissa. "They don't want to come back… It hurts, it hurts them so much. It hurts. It hurts…"

"Simon!" Avery called out.

A guardian of medium build, black hair and silver eyes jumped into the room. I had seen him around but did not know who he was. He headed straight for Reed and, with no warning, smacked the back of his head. Reed's frantic eyes stilled and rolled back as he fell to the floor unconscious. Simon picked him up and, rather un-gallantly, tossed him over his shoulder. Avery stopped him before he could leave, whispering something in his ear.

Lissa, for her part, remained frozen: paralyzed in her chair. She did not know what to think, let alone what to do or say.

That poor boy! What has happened to him? Why wasn't Avery more worried? That's her brother!

I felt myself urging Lissa on. Yes, Lissa. Walk away. Can't you see it: she is bad news. Walk away. Walk away.

I felt Lissa dither, hesitate and stop. She looked back up at Avery, who had finished her whispered conversation with her Guardian. Lissa watched as Reed was carried out the door while Avery sat back down in the chair and poured another glass of scotch.

"Sorry about that, Reed's not been feeling well of late. Want another?" she said, offering the decanter to Lissa.

I felt the urge to scream. Walk away. Walk away. Walk away.

Lissa hesitated before extending out her glass. Avery smiled. "So, where were we?"

"Rose!"

I jumped out of Lissa's head, physically torn back into my own body. I opened my eyes to Killian's face in my own. "Rose - are you alright? You weren't moving… I thought…" The concern was clear on his face and the indifferent Celt from earlier had gone in place of the awkward, but warm-hearted Killian from before.

But, of course, his timing was completely off.

"For fuck's sake, can I not even sleep in peace!" I said pushing him off me, saying 'sleep' to save us all the trouble of trying to explain the intricacies of the bond Lissa and I had to yet another outside party. I tried to refocus on getting back into her head, but something was blocking me. Whether it was the alcohol on her end, or the anger at mine, I could not say.

I got up and grunted. "We have to find Lissa."

Killian jumped up and grabbed my arm. "Rose, stop. The Princess is in a lesson, you know this."

My eyes widened; she was supposed to be in her Russian Studies class and instead was skiving with Avery. What had that bitch done to my best friend!?

"We need to go, now," I said, marching through the corridor, pushing past the lingering students who were on study break.

Killian was still holding onto my arm, stumbling after me. "You cannot interrupt a lesson just to speak to your friend."

"Killia-"

"I forbid it, Hathaway."

"She's not in the bloody-"

I, having to spend all my concentration and energy trying to drag Killian along, was not fully looking where I was going and, as a result, the inevitable happened: I crashed into someone.

I looked up. Of course. "Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry, Dimitri."

Killian had let go of my arm and rushed to Dimitri's side. I too saw all my anger dissipate and I crawled over to help him up. Dimitri, for his part, was in no way happy. He shoved us both off and felt around for his stick. The entire corridor was an eerie silence as all conversations ceased and the lingering students turned to gawk at the spectacle in front of them.

I felt my anger rise again and I jumped to my feet. "Oi! Have some damned respect and fuck off!"

The crowd dispersed, but I knew the damage was done. Dimitri was up and holding his stick, but I could see his tension and anger. Even Killian was keeping his distance.

"Dimitri…"

"Goodnight, Rose," he said, walking straight past us. I both let and watched him go, walking through the corridor and around the bend. I closed my eyes and felt horrendous. Dimitri was not one to be excessively proud but I had certainly caused him much humiliation. I wanted to run after him and make it all okay, but I knew it wouldn't help.

"Rose..." Killian's voice broke through my thoughts.

"I need to find Lissa," I said, reopening my eyes and turning back on my original path.

"Rose, I can't let you waltz into a lesson."

"She is not in the fucking lesson, Hazza," I said as calmly as I could.

He hesitated, before nodding. "Okay then."

D(imitri)POV

Snow.

Such a strange substance - how something so impossibly vast could form from such tiny flakes had always amazed me. And each flake too, as different as they were numerous. They fell around me like floating ash after an eruption, swaying in the breeze across my clear vision. The sky was like a white canvas: blank and unmarred, as though it rested in a sustained state of purity and opportunity. I felt my boots dig into the ground; snow falling and creating a dip around them while I could still feel the cobble of the street beneath. Stone hidden under a white sheet: I saw the buildings before me covered likewise. They were empty but still just the echo of the people that had lived there kept them alive and warm, something the snow could not hide.

Baia.

My home. It was strange how much of it I could remember. I had not been back for so long. Perhaps it had changed and I, like an old software system, was lagging. It was certainly a lot quieter than I remembered it - three sisters always made for a rowdy house. I smiled as I heard their laughter echo through the breeze. But there were no people before me: what stood was the shell of my home, the foundation if you will. I was not sure why it was just that I dreamt of that night; it seemed such a trivial thing, and yet I felt it was so much more. It was my home, empty or not, old or new, and I was so content to see it again, particularly after the day I had just had.

A light caught my attention and I turned to see an orange smear expand across the white sky as dawn bled through the flawless skin. I squinted a little but did not close my eyes. The sun rose and bloomed like a blossoming flower and I watched it all in perfect clarity.

I felt a smile twitch across my face, but it was soon replaced by a frown. A figure stood in my vision: alien to me yet male to be sure. I felt myself tense and assumed a natural stance when the figure grew in lucidity.

My eyes widened. "Adrian?"

He seemed just as surprised. "Belikov." Part of me wondered if this was my imagination; I actually stopped to ask myself if I was actually dreaming about Adrian Ivashkov. But his comprehension, liveliness and general distaste for what was around him suggested otherwise. "Jesus, you couldn't have picked a warmer spot." He said, folding his arms across and rubbing them to keep himself warm.

I was too perplexed to change my frowning expression. I had never experienced what Rose called a 'dream walk'. All I knew is that she had hated them so I elected to remain wary of what was to come. "It is my home."

"Your what now?"

I eyed him again. "My hometown."

He raised his eyebrows and looked around. "Oh, nice." He paused for a moment. "Where are all the people?"

I inclined my head, curious to see just how real he appeared. "Not here…" I said, not realizing it at the time, but notably trailing off.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I can see that."

I stayed quiet, still baffled by his presence. I had seen him before, and once upon a time his presence would have been considered the absolute last thing I wanted, but a new feeling had emerged deep within me, completely contrary to all former sentiments and perhaps even reason itself:

Joy.

I was overjoyed to see him. To actually see him. Dreaming was one thing, but this...this was something more. This was real. In a dream, I had to rely on my imagination and however good it was, it could not compare with the real thing. Albeit, the real thing was Adrian, but I was not complaining.

"Yo: earth to Belikov…"

I blinked and looked away, slightly embarrassed that I had just spent a good few moments staring at him.

He just flashed a grin. "See something you like?" My head snapped up and with it went the joy. He recoiled a little. "Woah, joking."

I eyed him sceptically. "What are you doing here?"

He sighed and fell back against the lamppost behind him: the one Karo used to meet her friends by… "Bored," he said, shrugging and scraping his shoe against that post, unaware of its meaning. "Not nearly enough drama going on to keep my poor, tormented soul entertained."

I stifled my reaction.

He sighed a little melodramatically, before frowning. "Although, my present situation warrants some attention: what are you doing here?"

I cocked a brow. "Correct me if I am wrong, but I do believe this is my dream."

He smiled. "Right you are, but not the point: what are you doing asleep."

At this, I hesitated, mask in place as Rose would say. I rarely had the inclination to share what I was feeling, even with those I cared about, let alone with the man I was sure I would have no strong affection for.

He sighed. "Shesh, you're a barrel of fun. I think I'd rather be asleep."

"Maybe you should," I said, perhaps a little callously.

He cracked a smile and shot what was clearly a knowing look. "Nah, this is far more interesting…"

I kept my guard of indifference out but frowned inwardly. "In what way?"

He tutted. "No matter how hard you try and hide, the answer is obvious." He hesitated for a moment before resolving. "I would even go so far to say that a blind man could see it."

I snapped my head towards him, my anger peaking such that I actually felt my blood begin to boil. "What?"

He, sensibly, took a step back, off the lamppost, but kept the smile on his face. "You can see, Belikov. Everyone dreams of that which they don't have."

I tensed. "Get out of my head," I ordered.

He smiled again. "And that is why you are asleep so early: you came to see again."

"Get out of my head," I repeated, gritting my teeth a little. I now understood Rose's distaste for these things.

"Does Rose know?"

"Know what?" I snapped.

He scowled. "Know about the dreaming."

"That I can see? Of course."

He cocked a brow. "Does she how frequently you do it?"

I felt my eyes rise to a glare and for a second, I regretted the fact that looks could not kill. "What are you talking about?"

He scoffed. "Come now, cradle-robber - no onegets to sleep at this time in the morning without practice."

I continued to glare. I did not like Adrian for a number of reasons: he was lazy, irresponsible, had no regard or appreciation for regulation and duty and also happened to have his own affection for the love of my life, just to name a few. But I was not so bigoted and blinded by my overall distaste to knock credit from where it was due and with Adrian, I could not fault his ability to read people. It was an admirable quality to be sure and one made even more so given that it had survived the ever-growing list of draining and damaging effects of Spirit. Adrian was perceptive, analytical and clever and right now, he was using his talent to see right through me.

I both hated and admired it.

"Can you blame me?" I decided to ditch the mask and throw away the formality: it served neither of us to keep up with this facade.

Adrian nodded. "I understand," he said. He turned a little and fashioned a bench from seemingly nowhere. I could not stop my eyes widening in shock but did not say anything as he flopped down upon it. "Is this really your home?"

I blinked and looked around, just accepting the bench as yet another part of Spirit's side effects. "In part. At least, it is what I can remember of it."

He wrinkled his nose. "Looks a little shitty to me."

I scowled a little but shook my head and waved it off; honestly, it was quite nice to have an honest answer. Rose aside, everyone I knew seemed to be walking on eggshells around me and it was getting a little dull. "I do apologize," I said sarcastically.

He smirked and then sighed. "I suppose it's not your fault." He said while stretching his arm out against the back of the bench; his fingers tiptoeing along its rim as his expression turned to contemplation. "Guardian Belikov, I do hope you know that what I am about to say is in no way derived from malice…"

I frowned. Never had Adrian sounded so formal, nor so serious. I nodded slowly.

He hesitated, before continuing. "You need to cut back."

I cocked a brow. "Cut back? On what?"

"On this," he said, gesturing around him.

"Заткнись!" I couldn't help myself.

"Успокаиваться, Дмитри!" He replied with equal force, jumping up from the bench to stand before me, the bench itself vanishing behind him. "I know what it's like. How good it feels to just stop hurting for five seconds. I know what it's like! But I also know what happens after: the unending need to have it over and over again, but then it is not enough."

"Mind your own business."

"Oh, piss off, Belikov! If I minded my own business, Lissa would be derailed, Rose would be locked away in some psychiatric hole or dead in a ditch by now and apparently, I now have to look out for you because you're too blind to do it yourself."

I felt my arms ready for a punch but resisted it on principle. "Watch your tongue, Ivashkov."

"Or what? You gonna hit me? Do it: see if I care. It won't stop it though." he hissed. Twitching towards me, I could see his passion, his envy and his madness. "I know. I know what addiction looks like and I know how it feels. But I also know how it ends and it ain't pretty. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, not even you." he spat, scuffing the ground. The squeaking echo bounced through the room and caught us both off guard. Adrian blinked and looked around while I tried to curb my anger. I wanted nothing more than to smack him to the ground and we were dreaming so no one would know, but I knew that was as murky as water could get and I was no way going to indulge it. Instead, I followed in Adrian's confusion and assessed the world around me.

"What in God's name…" he said, turning to me. "Is this a gym?"

I inhaled deeply, feeling the heat of my rage cool and my heart rate slow. Opening my eyes from whence they had closed, I surveyed the new environment, unmistakable to me as the place where I took refuge when I found myself needing a sanctuary. In our ire, neither of us had noticed how the snowy landscape of my Siberian home had melted away, dissipated and moulded into the new place with which we now stood. "It is the academy gym," I said, bringing my hand to rest against my forehead in exasperation, realizing that my dreaming state did little to aid my desire to keep my personal life private.

Not that Adrian seemed particularly interested in my personal life. Well, perhaps he was interested, but he certainly was not impressed by the whole experience. His frown deepened. "You dream about your workplace? Man, you are even more boring than I thought. Is this seriously worth risking your sanity for? I mean, what is so good about-" he cut his little rant off as the answer presented itself before us both.

Rose.

My heart fluttered as I saw her run by; preserved like an old portrait, faded over time, yet still so beautiful. Even after the encounter earlier today, I never ceased to find peace with her. She smiled, that smirkish smile she did so well, and winked. "You coming, comrade?" Her mouth did not move, but I could hear her voice so clearly.

"Huh, not bad," Adrian said, gawking over Rose.

I snapped my head around and glared. "Back off."

He turned back and scowled. "Can you seriously not take a compliment when it's given to you."

I glowered. "It's been a long day, Ivashkov - do not test me," I said, briefly recalling the moment in the corridor, but in truth that was only the tip of the iceberg.

He raised his arms. "Backing off, fear not," he said, before they were lowered, and his head inclined. "She's not real, though, Belikov. None of this is."

I glanced over to the Rose of my imagination. She was still smiling, her hair falling gently around her face like a frame. "I know." I turned away and forced myself to look back at Adrian. "She's all I've got though."

He frowned. "Bullshit. Dimitri, you've got Rose. As in, the Rose Hathaway. She's yours. Don't replace her with a fantasy."

I closed my eyes and nodded, a small smile dancing on my lips. "Thank you, Adrian. I needed that." And I genuinely meant it.

"Particularly because you are not the only one who wants Rose."

I scowled. "I did not need that." And there went my gratitude.

He grinned. "Just a gentle reminder, друг."

"Please leave."

"Haha," he chuckled. "Well then, since you asked so nicely..."

"Good night, Adrian," I said a little forcefully.

He smiled. "Just don't forget what I said, Belikov. Addiction takes many forms, but the outcome is always the same," he said. "Sweet dreams."

And with that, he disappeared.