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

RPOV

They say when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Me? I usually ask why the heck have I been given lemons in the first place. Usually, the lemons in question are pretty menial and, as such, the answers are pretty simple. Why am I always late? Because I prefer sleep to Stan's lectures. Sometimes, the lemons are a little more complex and often lack a full answer, but it is usually okay as the matter is not that serious. Why isn't the printer working? No idea, but I'll just re-send it and use another one.

And then there are those lemons that are not so much given as forcefully chucked at you, requiring a substantial amount of counter-force to stop them from causing any serious injury.

Yeah. This was definitely one of those.

Not that I minded: beating the crap out of things was kinda my forte.

"Rose, this is a serious accusation." Dimitri, following the retrieval of a shirt from his room, stated as we walked with quick strides through the corridors towards the track.

I matched his pace. "We don't have time to prove it."

"Not prove, confirm." he amended. "I know you think her to be the one we have been looking for, and I understand your concern surrounding her involvement with Lissa, but you cannot run at her blind."

I first nodded and then shook my head. "I know. It's got to be her though. And we can't lose this advantage we have over her." Her ignorance of our enlightenment was hardly going to remain as such for long.

"Get Ivashkov. What little I understand about Spirit, I know it leaves a mark, and it is one that he seems particularly partial to," he said.

"He's probably asleep," I said, thinking aloud more than anything. Then I remembered. "Oh, shit: Killian."

"I can fill him in."

I shook my head again, the act accompanied by a slight sigh as I fully remembered what I was supposed to be doing that day. "No, I'm supposed to be doing community service this morning and I think Father Andrew might just be the person we need right now. Or at least his library." I said, casting my gaze up to Dimitri. "You find Adrian, I'll take Killian."

I saw his countenance tenderly fall into one of sympathy as he, as ever, picked up on the subtext of that particular comment. "You're sure?"

I nodded. "He should know." Part of me wanted to spare Killian the thought of his brother possibly being painfully dragged back into the world of the living, yet I knew that lying would only make it worse.

A small smile graced his lips and he nodded. "Alright, I shall find you later." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

I let out a light groan. "No rest for the weary, huh comrade?"

He chuckled and threw me a smile over his shoulder. "All good things come to those who wait, Roza."

And with that, we parted.

I found Killian quickly: the Irishman running back and forward between the eight lanes of the track, stopping only as he noted my approach. I took a breath before stepping forward to greet him. I had had a lot of difficult conversations with people over the years but telling a man his late and beloved brother was being used as a veritable guinea pig for a twisted crusade was perhaps the hardest. Killian, for his part, took it as well as he could, but I could not help but note how the pain flashed through his eyes nor how his posture sank as I told all that we suspected.

"Why?" he asked as his eyes drew away from his fiddling hands to look at me squarely.

I could feel my heart clench. "We think she might be looking for someone."

I saw his eyes shut. He looked away and nodded. "Understandable."

Placing a hand on his forearm, I replied, "To a point." He reopened his eyes. "You've gotta draw the line somewhere."

He scoffed a little. "Oh, I wasn't disputing that." He muttered I think more bitterly than he intended. I watched as he brought his hands up to ruffle through his hair in exacerbation, his brown locks frizzing to a peaked mess, but I doubted if he cared. "You're sure it's her?" I could see the doubt playing across his features.

"It has to be."

A smile ghosted his lips. "You aren't sure," he said with a nod, turning towards the gym bag at the edge of the track.

I sighed and walked around in order to re-enter his eyeline. "Not completely, but sure enough. Killian…" I hesitated over my next words. "...you are going to have to trust me on this one."

He raised both his eyebrows. "Trust?" He said, looking at me incredulously.

I was expecting a refusal. I was expecting anger. I was expecting a full-fledged rant about how such a thing was not only impossible but insulting. And it would have been perfectly justified - I would have completely understood. Since this whole thing began, I had hardly done much to illicit a 'trusting' relationship. I had certainly done enough to warrant the opposite, even to the extent where I had thought that I had lost his trust for good.

And so, it was to my surprise that when I asked for his trust, at that moment, with the setting sun slowly bleeding out from behind the treeline, he just let out a tired laugh. "Rose Hathaway: you've got balls, I'll give you that."

I eyed him nervously. "Does that me you believe me?"

He shrugged. "I'm honestly not sure what I believe anymore, but I know when someone is lying to me and for all the times that you have done so, I know you are not lying to me now."

"Thanks."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"I gathered."

He laughed before slumping the bag over his shoulder and letting out another sigh. "So, what's the plan then? I am assuming you've got one."

I grinned. "We're going to Father Andrew."

He frowned. "I wasn't aware community service was the Shadow-World-messing-spirit-user's kryptonite."

A rather significant part of me was happy that he was still cracking jokes. I knew him well enough to know that it was a coping mechanism of sorts for him: attempting to bring a bit of levity in order to counteract the heaviness of a dark situation. Thus, I played along and I shot him a playful glare as we began to make our way across the field, but to campus. "Funny. But it is more about his books - Father Andrew is the only one who has anything which remotely relates to what is going on and we need to find more information: we cannot run at her blind." I said, echoing my beloved comrade's words.

I saw Killian glance over at me, his eyes narrow and contemplative before a recognition of sorts filled their green depths. "You know, Belikov really is a fantastic influence on you."

I narrowed my eyes again. "Ha ha."

"That was a compliment."

"Oh, hardly."

He chuckled. "My apologies."

"Mhmm." I hummed. "Whatever happened to your 'plausible deniability'?"

He snorted. "Oh, that is long gone. Pinocchio would do a more believable job lying about the two of you than I could." I couldn't help the slight smile forming on my lips. "Where is he anyway?"

"He went to find Adrian."

Killian gave me a nervous look. "Is that wise?" he asked as I suspected he was relaying all the less-than-amicable encounters between the pair that he had witnessed over the past few months.

I waved him off. "It'll be fine: they are both adults."

He turned to face forward again. "I'm not so sure about that one…"

I felt myself inwardly groan as I forgot Killian wasn't exactly Adrian's biggest fan either. Honestly, why was it so difficult for him to be likeable for just five minutes? "He really isn't that bad."

"Do I have to trust you on that one as well?"

I shook my head, a small smile forming on my lips. "It would make things easier, but I suspect that that one might require something a little stronger than trust."

He chuckled. "Your suspicion may be correct there."

I rolled my eyes. A few seconds later, I saw a familiar face striding down the corridor in the opposite direction.

"Rose, good morning," he said with a smile, in my opinion, disproportionately big for the time of the day.

"Eddie!" I replied with a somewhat smaller smile of my own. "It is and it isn't, I'm afraid," I said. "Sorry, we're in a bit of a rush." I would've loved to stand and chat, but I felt a degree of urgency was required given the severity of the present situation.

Eddie followed without question, frowning a little as he did. "Oh? The day hasn't even started yet - how bad could it be?"

His actions caused me to smile, but his question turned it into a grimace. "We think we know who the spirit user is."

"Ah," Eddie said with a slight nod. "Yeah, that might just do it." he caught Killian's gaze behind him. "Oh, crap, man: how are you doing?"

Killian responded with a polite, but brief nod. "I'm fine." Clearly, he didn't fancy elaborating any further.

Eddie, catching the meaning in his tone, replied with equal courtesy. "Of course, anytime." His eyes flicked back to mine as we moved into the courtyard, a slight shiver making its way down my back as the memory of Rebekah still lingered in my forethought like a lingering odour. "Dare I ask who it is?"

I eyed him with some concern. Eddie was not overly trusting of those he did not really know, but nor was he overly suspicious: what I was about to say was undoubtedly going to come with some degree of surprise. "Avery."

Eddie blinked a little before his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. "As in Avery Avery?"

I grimaced again and nodded. "That's the one."

He continued to stare at me, then his eyes shifted slightly to Killian who gave a slight nod. "Shit," Eddie muttered, looking ahead. "So, all that air stuff was just…" he trailed off.

I nodded. "She was using water when Dimitri was on patrol."

He raised his eyes. "Wait Belikov saw-" he cut himself off, his cheeks turning bright red. "Oh, not saw, obviously, I didn't mean...I meant…"

I gave him a small smile and helped him out before he really started to panic. "Yeah, he was walking past her."

He nodded; his cheeks still lightly tainted as the embarrassment hadn't quite subsided. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, at the minute, we're headed to the chapel's library to see if we can't find any more info on the matter." Part of me doubted that Vlad and Anna had undergone an experience such as this, but they were still the only relatively dependable source we had, so I was hoping for a miracle.

The one we got was not exactly what we were expecting...

"Sorry, what do you mean you don't need our help?"

Father Andrew chuckled. "I was as surprised as you were, Rose. But I'm afraid I have no need of your services today - a very kind young man volunteered to do it all by himself."

"Someone volunteered to peel gum off from under pews on a Saturday morning?"

I heard Killian's chuckle. "Some people are just nice, Rose."

I scoffed. "Or deranged."

"Rose," Killian warned.

Father Andrew chuckled and shook his head. "I will make no judgment on his mental state. Though I will say that he is upstairs, should you wish to perform your own analysis."

My eyes flicked up. "Upstairs?" I said carefully.

A small glint shimmered in Father Andrew's eyes; his features softened - the wrinkles on his ageing face creasing like a cushion in the gentle grasp of a child's hand. "Yes, he says he finds it comforting."

I smiled. I knew exactly who it was.

The clock had struck the hour of a new vampiric day when we found Christian Ozera slumped against the wall, a tennis ball in hand which he absentmindedly flung against the cold, stone ground to bounce off the opposite wall and come back into his hand, under the shadowed light of stain-glass and candle. Christian wasn't exactly known for his amicability, but he seemed particularly hostile as he continued to glare at the wall he was beating with the ball. Meeting Killian's eyes, I saw him nod and we went over.

"Go away, Rose," he said when I entered a five-metre radius of his person.

Ignoring his request, I plonked down next to him and followed his gaze to the wall. "Nice view."

I heard him grumble something incoherent but decided it was probably for the best that I didn't hear it.

I considered how I was going to play this. On the one hand, he was clearly upset and the normal thing to do was offer sympathy and kindness. On the other hand, this was Christian: a man who could destroy the nicest sentence in the world with his sarcastic powers, resulting in no improvement in the overall situation. Thus, I resolved to deal with this in a way familiar to us both.

"You look like shit," I said.

He scoffed, catching the ball and turning to scrutinize me. "You aren't exactly a ray of sunshine."

"I've been up all night. What's your excuse?"

He both grumbled and threw the ball again. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Yes, you do," I said.

"Oh yes, I am dying for a discussion - that's why I'm here, surrounded by so many people."

I briefly flicked my eyes up to Killian and Eddie. "Three is a crowd."

Christian glowered. "Shut up, Rose."

I paused, but only for a moment. "Is it Lissa?"

Christian caught the ball but did not throw it again. Instead, his fingers tightened around the fuzzy, green sphere - the tension spreading throughout his person. "Partly."

"And Avery?" I prodded.

"Rose, I don't want to talk about-"

"She's the spirit user."

The ball dropped from his grip and bounced weakly across the creaky wooden floor, eventually rolling itself into the shadows and out of reach. Christian snapped his head around. "What?"

"Avery is our spirit user."

His eyes locked with mine and I saw the fire burn deeper. "What?"

"Apparently, she's been playing us all, mate," Eddie said, slumping down onto one of the empty boxes. He looked forlorn and a little dejected as he spoke. I suspected that his naturally optimistic and hopeful personality was inhibiting him from fully processing this betrayal.

Christian acknowledged Eddie's troubled person with a brief look before his eyes glanced to Killian for affirmation. "She's doing this?"

Killian didn't look that much more certain, but he nodded all the same. "We believe so."

Christian raised both his eyebrows. Momentarily speechless, his eyes scanned the room once more, before resting on me. "Does Lissa know?"

I shook my head. "No."

Immediately, Christian found his way to his feet. "What!? Why haven't you told her!? Do you know how much time they spend together? What if something happens to her!?"

I jumped up beside him. "I know. Which is why we need to act fast."

"And do what!?" he shouted. "We needed to act months ago! Now Lissa won't listen to any of us: she's forgotten Eddie, hates you, dumped me-"

I felt my jaw drop. "Lissa dumped you?" I interrupted. That explains the mood.

Christian glared at me. "Oh, that is hardly the biggest issue of the hour - she could be killed, Rose."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Killian edge forward to pull Christian away in the event his anger manifested more physically, but there was something nagging within me. She wouldn't. She wouldn't. She wouldn't. It was a feeling more than my own conscious - like a whisper - telling me not to let it go. "Lissa would never dump you," I said, a frown consuming my face as I tried to reason the fact, but no amount of rational would quell that nagging.

Christian, for his part, just looked at me like I was an idiot. "Rose: get your head out your ass. Lissa and I have not been good for months, and while, yeah - I am quite upset - my feelings can be postponed until after we sort this shit out. What we need to do..."

Rose.

I turned my head, not really hearing a word Christian had said past 'ass'. I knew then that it wasn't just my mind, for in the dim light of the attic stood a very familiar face:

"Mason."

He was as he always was, at least in his ghostly faded figure which had haunted me so often. Yet, his pain - the thing that had started it all - remained. His eyes hung heavy as though he wanted to cry, but no tears could fall. Christian, Eddie and Killian all halted as I spoke his name. They could not see him, but he could them and I watched as Mason glanced so pitiably at them all and raised a shaking hand towards Eddie, towards his best friend.

"I'm sorry." I choked a little as the words came out.

Mason's face turned to me and his smile fought through that barrier of pain, and with it came a fragment - a vestige - of the Mason that had walked these halls so long ago. 'She wouldn't.'

His voice was clear. Clearer than any ghost had been before, so much that it had caught me off guard. "Lissa," I said, my eyes wide and alert.

I saw him nod. 'It isn't her.'

A sense of deja vu rested upon me: this isn't you. "The darkness. But how-"

Mason cried out, cutting me short. He refocused and shook his head. 'It. Isn't. Her.' He gasped, lifting that shaking hand to slam his fingers against his temple over and over, like a woodpecker knocking at a tree.

Knock. Knock. Knock. It. Isn't. Her.

Suddenly it clicked. Every encounter, every outburst and most of all: that night when I went to see her - the force that forced me out...

"She's in her head. Avery is in Lissa's head."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the varying reactions of my peers, but they kept quiet. It was at that moment I realized that Vlad and Anna weren't going to help us - after all, what did they know about being a ghost? Yet to ask a ghost? Given the immense amount of pain that I had found them all in, I very much ruled against interrogating an already suffering friend.

And yet, here Mason stood: fighting until the very bitter end.

He would have been a great guardian.

No. I felt my heart rate rise as my head lifted higher, locking fully on my departed friend in front of me. He is a great guardian. And right then, as he stood in front of me, fighting both his pain and the never-ending pull of the Shadow World seeking to drag him back to death, he was a damn hero.

"Guardian Ashford," I said, a small smile forming on my lips as I did. "Who is she looking for?" I asked the question that I believed would break this case wide open.

He brought his hand down and with a small glint in his eye, he forced himself upright and said:

'Everyone.'

DPOV

"All good things come to those who wait, Roza."

I found myself with a small smile on my face as I walked through the winding corridors of the Academy. I had often joked that I knew these halls so well, I could walk them blind - as it turned out, it was a skill that very much proved its worth. As such, it was with little difficulty that I found the notorious Ivashkov's room. With a firm, yet mindful of the other rooms neighbouring, I knocked on his door and stepped back a little. It was a strange friendship that had developed over the past few weeks, one I had certainly not expected but had come to value quite significantly.

Regardless, it was still strange to be knocking at his door in the middle of the night. Part of me was almost glad that I couldn't see what scene would lay in front of me as he opened his door. However, such is reality, what actually happened was that my shock was only delayed for seconds longer than it would have been.

"Guardian Belikov? Well, this is certainly unexpected."

Not even I could have hidden my surprise at the sound of her voice. "Miss Lazar?" For what little it was worth, I did manage to keep the chill that ran down my spine and the anger that boiled my blood from making themselves known to my outside features. Instead, managing to maintain a reasonable degree of composure in saying: "I was looking for Adrian."

"Oh, you've just missed him, I'm afraid," she said, her voice sweet and light.

I frowned. "It's six o'clock," I said, feeling no need to elaborate on my confusion.

"I know," she said, the slight inflection in her voice at the end of that sentence conveyed a subtle hint of victory and mockery in equal measure. "You are up and about…" she pointed out, following my implication.

"I am a guardian, Miss Lazar."

"Are you actually a guardian?" she asked with genuine curiosity; a gentle thud in front of me told me that she was leaning against the doorframe, I assumed also with folded arms given the slight brushing sound that followed.

I responded carefully, but surely. "Yes."

"But you're blind."

"I am aware of that."

She laughed. "Well, yeah, obviously! I'm just surprised that they let you continue, you know, being handicapped and all."

I elected not to allow that to provoke me. "We all have our crosses to bear."

She hummed. "Ah, for sure. Though I'm guessing that Rose really fought for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Rose - you know, the one that ran back in for you, the one who volunteered to train you. She must really love you."

An alarming sense of dread thundered through me. "Miss Lazar, this is highly inappropriate-"

"Would be a shame if something were to happen to you."

I halted. Did she just...? I elected to answer carefully. "Yes."

"I mean, given that you've come so far - it would be a shame if you did anything to screw that up." she added, popping the 'p'.

Again, I replied carefully. "Indeed, but a guardian's life is not his own."

I heard her snort. "Oh, spare me the nobility. Everyone is selfish."

I frowned a little at the sharpness of her tone. "I am sorry you think that." And I meant it. She was after all, still a young girl and even with all her faults which seemingly bordered on psychotic, or perhaps very much as a result of them, she was one that clearly had experienced a severe degree of pain in her own life. And even as I felt her sneer at me, there was still a part of myself that pitied her.

"Adrian is not here," she said, straightening up.

I could tell I had annoyed her, for I was not the only one with a facade. Evidently, she was done playing games. "When will he be back?"

"No idea."

"This is his room."

"Yeah, but he left."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know. Do I look like his mother?"

"I imagine not," I said.

I heard her scoff again. "Oh, 'boo-hoo - I'm blind'. Get over yourself, Belikov."

I ignored her. "If you do manage to see him again, please do let me know."

"And why would I do that?" I could sense her smile in her tone.

I hid back a smile of my own at the somewhat familiar combination of pettiness and childishness. Maybe this attitude had worked for her in the past, but unfortunately for Avery, I had spent the last few years training one just as confrontational. "I am a member of staff and I am asking you to."

She laughed. "My dad runs this place - what power do you have over me?"

"Every. You are a student."

"I am the headmaster's - your boss' - daughter."

"That is of little consequence." Particularly because the head of the school had no real decisive authority over the guardian department.

"Really? I could get you fired."

I resisted a smile. "No, you could not. Power is not hereditary."

"What about monarchy?"

"And how many of them are left?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them. My surprise followed suit, but I knew I couldn't take them back so instead just let out a small groan.

I imagined her responding look as I heard her exaggerated intake of breath before she spoke. "My, my, Guardian Beliov…" she said, somewhat sickeningly. "It's nice to finally meet you."

I remained as neutral as I could. "Forgive my im-"

"Don't apologize." she snapped. "Never apologize for passion. Nothing comes from hiding behind a mask. Everyone is selfish, and it would be better if we'd all just admit it. We all have something we want, but most of us are too cowardly to actually get it-" She halted, more sharply than a person would normally when coming to the end of a sentence. I knew why. I did not respond, but I had heard it - the quiet whimper.

Adrian.

He was right there. I suspected that Avery knew I had heard, so had to act both carefully and swiftly. Feeling a shift in the air between us, I deduced she had taken a step back and was ready to slam the door. I stuck out my hand and blocked it, keeping it open. She laughed. "Do I have something you want?" She said, pushing against the door with all her might.

I released my hand a little, causing her to stumble, before forcing the door open fully. "Sorry, I am no coward," I muttered in her direction. I heard a panicked three-syllable murmur which I assumed both belonged to Adrian and was supposed to be my name. I lifted my head, just as Avery replied.

"No, just a fool."

The fall followed the pain and then, I felt nothing.