Chapter Text
Ten years old
Olena stood on the porch, the dim light from the setting sun cast a harsh shadow on Janine’s face. Auburn hair was as fiery as her demeanour, though she lacked her fierceness when she told Olena she didn’t know when she would return for Rose.
It wasn’t the first time Olena had looked after Rose; she had been doing so since Rose was four. Janine would show up on their doorstep with a packed bag and a sullen Rose. It was never longer than a week, sometimes just for a night or a couple of hours. But that day, Janine showed up with a suitcase and a defeated look in her eyes.
Rose waited inside while Olena and her mother spoke. The ten-year-old marched in and slammed the door behind her; her goodbye kept locked behind quivering lips pressed tightly together.
“What do you mean?” Olena asked, moving down the porch steps to be at eye level; Janine took a step back.
“I don’t know. It is just… I have to go,” Janine affirmed with a firm nod. She didn’t say anything more, spun on her heel and walked briskly back to her car as if moments away from being chased. She had the slightest hesitation at her car door. Janine allowed herself one last look and stared past Olena, meeting the frantic eyes of her daughter.
Rose raced out the door and scrambled down the steps; her shoes slipped on the gravel as Janine slammed her car door closed. “Mom! Wait! Please, take me with you!” Rose cried. Her mother ignored her desperate pleas, and the wheels spun up dust as it sped away.
“Roza!” Olena cried, her heart breaking at the sight of the young girl. Another person moved past her and towards the child—Dimitri.
Rose and Dimitri got along like oil and water, constantly clashing as children and teenagers would. At most, Dimitri tolerated Rose as he would his youngest sister, allowing them to follow him and his friends around. He was never rude to Rose, but kept his distance even as he helped Olena manage the mischief she and Viktoria would get up to. Now seventeen and towering over them all in height, he was like a giant beside Rose, who had crumbled to the ground.
Rose picked up rocks and threw them towards the car as it disappeared into the distance, yelling curse words she had promised her mother she wouldn’t repeat. But what did it matter now that Janine had abandoned her?
A large hand caught her wrist, another gently prying the rock from her hand. She turned to find Dimitri’s sad eyes on her; he had crouched down, yet she still had to tilt her head back. “Come on, Roza,” he encouraged, offering her his hand.
Rose glared at it and then at him. She didn’t want to be left behind. With a scream, she pushed Dimitri away, knocking him off-balance. “Get away from me! I hate you!” she shouted as she ran away from him. She knew she had nowhere to go; her mother wasn’t coming back, but she didn’t want to be around others when she broke.
Angrily wiping her tears, Rose ran to the one spot where she could get some privacy.
Dimitri sat at the bottom of the tree using the large trunk as a backrest. It was dark out—had been for hours, and only the lights from within the house illuminated the backyard. It wasn’t how he planned to spend his Friday night; instead of meeting Tasha and Ivan for a movie, he had sat below the treehouse listening to the muffled cries from it. Rose always went to the treehouse when she needed a break; it had become more her space than any of her siblings. Karo and Sonya thought it was too childish to play in the tree, and Viktoria was scared of heights. More than once, he had found Rose in there, watching the driveway from the window carved into the wooden structure. She wasn't like his sisters, Rose, who enjoyed getting her hands dirty rather than playing with dolls. She also preferred to sort through her emotions on her own.
“Rose,” he tried again, hoping for an answer this time, “we should go inside. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“I don’t want anything!” she yelled back. It made Dimitri scoff. Rose was always hungry.
He would climb up there, but when he first tried, she threw sticks at him, and she had great aim even when crying her eyes out. “Your mother will come back.”
He heard another sob. “No, she isn’t. She doesn’t want me anymore,” Rose replied in a shaky voice. She sounded so broken.
Dimitri clasped his hand, brows furrowed. He wanted to help but didn’t know how.
“Dimka,” his mother’s voice drew his attention, and he found her a few feet away. “Go wait with your sisters, I’ll talk to Roza.”
He hesitated, not wanting to leave Rose when she was so upset, but did as Olena asked. He climbed to his feet and dusted off the back of his pants. “I’ll see you inside, Rose,” he called up, unsurprised that he didn’t receive an answer.
Olena watched him disappear into the house before turning back to the treehouse. It wasn’t the first time she had to climb up there to get Rose down, and she doubted it would be the last.
“Roza?” she called before reaching the top, peering across the uneven wooden boards at Rose; the stick in her hand lowered when she realised it was Olena.
“She left me,” Rose spat. Her lips wobbled as she attempted to hold back tears.
“No, she didn't. She–”
“She doesn't want me.”
“That's not true,” Olena tried, but Rose turned from her with a huff of frustration.
“She decided to get rid of me, and now you are stuck with me.”
“We aren't stuck with you, Roza.” Olena shifted closer, crawling on her knees until she sat beside Rose, drawing her close with a deep breath. “Your mother is trying to take care of you the only way she knows how. When she's ready, she'll come back, but until then, we'll take care of you.”
Rose held herself back from taking the comfort she wanted, choosing to appear strong instead. “You aren't my family,” she stated harshly—a reminder to herself.
Olena shook her head. “I'm not trying to replace your mother.”
“I don’t need one,” Rose spat, her face hidden by her hair. Olena attempted to brush it back, but Rose pulled away.
“Let’s go inside, Roza. We can figure everything out tomorrow. Janine won’t be gone for long.”
xXx
Thirteen years old
Rose ran down the stairs in her shorts and tank top. Olena reminded her to wash her laundry the night before, but she had put it off until she desperately needed clothes. Viktoria was still asleep, and Olena said she would be at the morning markets; no one was supposed to be downstairs, and she would have the television to herself.
Her hair fell down her back in curled tangles; she didn't bother to do much else than roll out of her bed before stumbling down the stairs in search of clothes and food—not necessarily in that order. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks. An unexpected guest stood by the counter, eating cereal. “What the fuck?”
Dimitri narrowed his eyes at her. “What?” he asked in between bites.
Their relationship became more strained when Dimitri left for university, living in the city and sharing an apartment with Ivan. Whenever he came to visit during his breaks, Rose tended to avoid him. Dimitri suspected she blamed him for leaving her just as her mother had.
Rose crossed her arms with a scowl on her lips, “What are you doing here?”
“Eating,” Dimitri replied coolly, taking his bowl and moving into the lounge room, dropping onto the couch and picking up the remote.
Rose groaned in annoyance. There went her alone time. “Can’t you do that somewhere else?”
“This is my house.” Dimitri shot her a stern expression, unwilling to give in to her tantrum.
Rose stomped her foot and stormed back up the stairs, yelling down at him as she did, “You ruin everything! I hate you!” Her door slammed behind her.
Dimitri slouched in his seat and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know.” He was used to her anger—they all were. Rose kept a distance from them all, him the most.
His mother always tried her best to make Rose feel welcome, especially when weeks had passed, and Janine still hadn't called. It had been years, and no one had heard from her at all. Dimitri remembered staying home one night while Olena went to the police station to report Janine as a missing person, but nothing came from it. Rose gave up waiting for her after three months; she would watch the road from the treehouse, but she hadn’t climbed up there in years.
A few hours passed while Dimitri relaxed on the couch, the longest he had spent off his feet in weeks. Barely a sound came from upstairs. Rose never emerged from her room after storming off. Dimitri figured she would eventually search for food.
The front door rattled and creaked when Olena pushed it open, using her shoulder to hold it open, her hands shaking from the weight of her grocery bags. Dimitri surged to his feet and easily took the bags from her.
“Thank you, Dimka,” she smiled, patting him on the back when he turned to the kitchen. “I wasn’t planning to buy so much, but they had a sale. Good to stock up when I can.”
Dimitri glanced at the bags, pressing his lips together to keep his thoughts to himself. Olena noticed and shook her head.
“I’m fine.”
“I can help.” The offer slipped out—another plea for his mother to accept his help. “At least, while I’m here, let me pay for the food.”
She clicked her tongue, placing her hand on his cheek with a warm smile. “You are my son. It’s my job to take care of you.”
“But you already have enough people to take care of here.” Again, Dimitri did the math in his head about how much money Olena spent on her children and now a grandchild. “I can help with money for Rose.”
“It’s fine,” Olena asserted, a hint of exasperation bleeding through. They had repeated the exact conversation many times before, with the same result. “I know you want to help, Dimka, but I don’t need it. You just focus on your studies and enjoy yourself.”
Dimitri relented, though reluctant. Olena turned to put away the groceries, and he helped. It wasn’t until he walked back to the lounge room that he noticed Rose’s door was cracked open.
xXx
Sixteen years old
Dimitri rubbed his hand down his face, noting the stubble that had grown on his skin. His eyes felt raw and heavy; no doubt bloodshot from how little sleep he had had in the past week. Nothing felt right anymore. Even acknowledging that a week had passed since he returned home felt too unreal to accept.
It had been a week since Ivan died—a week since his best friend died.
And it was Dimitri's fault.
He had asked Dimitri to go out with him, encouraging him to take a break from work and live a little. Maybe, if Dimitri had agreed to go with him, Ivan wouldn’t have been in that part of town. Perhaps he wouldn’t have tried to play the hero and would still be alive.
Olena didn’t want Dimitri to stay alone and convinced him to return home for a while, and he gave in. It was only because of Olena's gentle encouragement that he was out of his room and freshly showered. The house was empty; his mother was at work, and Rose and Viktoria were at school. Surprisingly, Rose had been nice to him, even sitting next to him for a couple of hours. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the picture he had of him and Ivan from when they were teens, each holding one of Rose’s hands, swinging her back and forth between them.
He sometimes forgot how close the three of them were years ago.
Dimitri was contemplating what to attempt to eat when the phone rang. He picked it up out of habit rather than meaning to. Internally sighing, Dimitri answered, “Hello?”
“Hello, is Ms Belikova there?” a female voice asked. There was something familiar about her voice, but he couldn’t place it.
“No, she’s out. Can I take a message?”
“Is this Dimitri?”
His brows furrowed, “Yes. Who’s this?”
“This is Cherry from Saint Vladimir’s.” Suddenly, it clicked. She was the administrator at the high school he had attended, the same one Rose and Viktoria now did. Dread quickly settled in his stomach. “I’m calling because of an incident involving Rose. We need a parent or guardian to pick her up.”
Dimitri sucked in a shallow breath, “Is she okay? What kind of incident?”
“She got into a fight with a student. The principal can go into more detail.” He heard her nails clicking against the keys of her keyboard before she continued, “We have you listed as an approved guardian, so you can come pick her up. Otherwise, if you can contact your mother—”
“No,” Dimitri interrupted, “She’s working. I’ll be there soon. Thanks.”
Dimitri hung up the phone and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. Going to the high school and dealing with Rose’s Principal was not what he wanted to do; he definitely didn’t want to leave the house when he still felt so raw from the loss of his best friend.
Rose shifted in the plastic chair, made to sit in the office and be stared at by the students as they passed. She hadn’t even started the fight—the other girl threw the first punch. But of course, the teachers didn’t show up until Rose fought back.
Rose shot a glare toward the girl, catching the smug look she wore. Of course, as soon as someone else looked, that fake scared expression was back. No one believed Rose because she was always the troublemaker in their eyes, even though she hadn’t caused any trouble in months. She was trying to do better—wanted to be better—and now it was all for nothing.
All she wanted was for Olena to be proud of her.
Rose knew what some of the parents said, that Olena was a saint to take on the burden that was Rose Hathaway—the kid that even her own mother couldn’t handle.
She didn’t want to be seen as the kid no one wanted anymore.
The door to the office opened, and Rose dropped her eyes as shame flushed her cheeks, afraid to see Olena’s dismay. Instead, her body went still when a deep male voice spoke to Cherry. She didn’t move or look up for the five minutes that Dimitri talked to the principal.
She felt bad for how she treated Dimitri in the past. Part of the reason Rose was trying harder was to impress Dimitri. Now, after everything he had gone through, he had to deal with her.
“Rose,” Dimitri’s stern voice made her shrink even more. With a deep breath, she met his eyes, inwardly wincing at the anger in them—the disappointment. “Get your stuff.” His tone was void of emotion, and that was what Rose hated the most.
Dimitri always had a good poker face, but she could read him, even when they were fighting. But now, it was as if he were empty. She had been practising a speech in her head, planning what to say to Olena, but none of it would work with Dimitri. Shouldering her bag, Rose followed Dimitri out of the school and to his car, silently climbing in. It wasn’t until they were halfway home that she spoke.
“I didn’t start it,” she defended, trying to catch his eye so he knew she was telling the truth. Dimitri stared ahead, hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel.
“I don’t care.”
Rose dropped her eyes again, fingers fiddling with the ice pack in her hand. She knew she would be sporting a black eye the next day. “That girl… she said—”
“Just stop, Rose! I don’t want to hear it,” Dimitri bit out. He didn’t look at her, missed her flinching at his words. Missed the tears that pooled in her eyes.
It took Dimitri longer than he thought it would to get to the school and back with Rose; he returned home almost an hour after receiving the call. He was exhausted. Interacting with others took more effort than he had. Caring about Rose fighting another student took more effort than he had.
It was all too much.
He felt numb, and yet anger churned beneath the surface.
Dimitri marched into the house, hearing Rose storm in after him. “Go upstairs and stay there,” he ordered.
“God! You really don’t care, do you?” Rose demanded, voice catching. She pushed through, focused on the anger she felt instead. “I told you, I didn’t start it. That bitch—”
A deep scowl pulled at his lips, “I don’t have time to care about the many irresponsible things you do. It’s always the same thing, and you never learn! It’s time to grow up and stop acting like a spoiled child!”
Rose faltered, feeling chastised by his words. “I hate you.” The words spat out.
“I don’t care, Rose. I couldn’t care less about what you think of me. You aren’t my family!”
“Dimitri!”
Dimitri turned to find Olena in the entryway, a look of disbelief on her face; his own morphed into shock as he realised what he said. Eyes darted back to Rose, and all words died on his tongue at how completely broken she looked—so much hurt in her eyes, staring back at him.
His lips parted, “Rose, I—”
Not caring to hear anymore, Rose ran up the stairs, and the house shook from the force of her door closing behind her. Dimitri winced, wearily making his way to the stairs, dropping in defeat on the bottom step.
“Dimka, I can’t believe you—” Olena started only to be cut off.
“I know. I can’t believe I…I don’t know why I said that,” Dimitri signed, head dropping to his hands. He had just lost Ivan, and now he had practically ruined his already rocky friendship with Rose. Whatever small amount of mending they had managed was just destroyed. His breath caught in his throat, sounding strangled, “Mama, I don’t know why…”
Olena saw the shift in Dimitri; his shoulders dropped, and his body pulled in on itself until he was small. He was trying to conceal the tremors of his shoulders, his mouth covered by his hand to stop the sounds from escaping. Dimitri always tried to hide his emotions, especially those that made him feel exposed.
Lowering herself to be beside her son, Olena pulled him towards her, managing to tuck his large form against her and soothing him as she did when he was little. She had been expecting this; waiting for the moment it became too much for him to keep it in. She just wished that Rose hadn’t been caught in the crossfire.
Nothing in the room belonged to Rose, not really. Other than a few pieces of clothes she still had from when she was ten, everything was provided for her by Olena. Her mother never sent money or even a birthday card.
Rose wondered if Janine ever thought of her.
A part of her hoped her mother was dead. At least that way, she could use it as an excuse for why she never came back. Her mother was her only real family, and she didn’t want Rose. The Belikovas weren’t her family, no matter how much she wished they were.
What even was the point of trying to be better? No one cared.
A soft knock on her door made her shoulders tense. Sitting on the floor with her back to the bed, Rose stared out her window at the dark clouds building in the sky—a reflection of how she felt inside.
“Roza?” Olena called through the door, opening it after a minute. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t want to talk to Olena or be comforted by her. Olena wasn’t her mother.
“Dimka didn’t mean it.”
Tears threatened to fall. “Sure,” Rose replied flatly, keeping her emotions locked down. She dipped her head forward so her hair would cover her face, shielding the bruise on her eye. Thankfully, it was Friday, and most of the discolouration would fade by Monday, though the rumours would have already spread around the school.
They wouldn’t care that Rose didn’t start the fight or that she only fought back because the girl said things about Olena.
“What happened at school?”
“I got in a fight,” Rose answered, fists clenching. What was the point of trying to explain? It didn’t matter.
Olena crossed the room, reaching the side of her bed as Rose turned away from the window. She kept her head down, and her jaw clenched; tears threatened to fall, but she wouldn’t let them. How Rose had any left surprised her. Ever since she learned Ivan died, she had cried at night, curled up under her blankets because she didn’t want to burden the others when they had their own grief.
Rose didn’t want to be a burden, but no matter how she tried, it was all she was.
She curled up her body when Olena sat on the edge of her bed. Olena felt at a loss for words. Two people she cared greatly for were hurting, and she didn’t know how to soothe their pains. Olena ran her fingers through Rose’s hair, an attempt at revealing the face underneath the unruly locks, but it didn’t help. “You know he didn’t mean it. He cares about you; we all do.”
Rose stayed silent, her lip caught between her teeth and hot tears trailing down her cheeks.
“Dimitri is just upset right now. Later, I’m sure you two can talk and work it out.” Olena was hopeful, praying they could ease the hurt without it turning into another yelling match. “Did you get hurt in the fight?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
No other words followed, and Rose never shifted an inch. Olena tried again, but heard her phone alarm ring; she returned home during her break to check on Dimitri, but never expected to return in the middle of a fight. “We can talk tonight,” Olena promised, hoping Viktoria could help smooth things over between Rose and Dimitri.
Rose waited until the front door closed before she stretched out her limbs. Tears still fell as she stood from the floor, dragging her feet to her door. She paused at it; the opening was barely enough to see the hallway, but she could see Dimitri’s room. He sat on his bed with his head in his hands; Rose didn’t make a sound, but he lifted his eyes and met hers.
Dimitri stared at Rose; her eyes were red, and the tears stained her cheeks. His heart broke, but he couldn’t escape his grief long enough to accept the pain he had caused. He didn’t look away, even after Rose closed her door and locked it.
The photo of him, Rose, and Ivan sat beside him, a cruel reminder of what he lost.
xXx
Eighteen years old.
Dimitri stood at the top of the steps, staring into the empty room that once held Rose’s belongings. They were packed neatly in boxes and left with a note saying they weren’t hers.
Viktoria had called him two days ago and said Rose had left. She had slipped out the door on the morning of her eighteenth birthday without a word to anyone. Viktoria had watched her climb into her car with a single bag and drive off.
It didn’t surprise him, though he wished it did. Rose had been distant from them all for years, acting more like a guest in their home rather than a part of their family. It had hurt to know he had been the cause of it and couldn’t fix it; no matter how many times he tried to talk to Rose, she would brush him off.
She was never rude or unkind, being as helpful as possible, but also staying out of every family photo and event she could. Rose got a job a month after Ivan died, and had used the excuse of working to avoid most things. Sometimes, she claimed homework and would disappear for hours just to avoid family dinners. Dimitri couldn’t remember the last time they exchanged more than a few words. It was all his fault, and he had no clue how to fix any of it.
“Don’t forget to lock up,” Alberta shouted from the back. She knew that Rose would, but always gave the reminder each night as a way to show she cared. Rose shied away from anything more than that.
The day Janine’s daughter showed up at her gym at sixteen with a half-hazard resume and a desperate look in her eyes, she knew she couldn’t turn her away. Alberta gave her a job and a place to stay when she needed it, the least she could do considering she hadn’t been able to convince Janine to stay around. Olena would drop by, checking in with Alberta to ensure that Rose was doing okay, but never pressed for more.
For whatever reason, Rose believed she had to do everything on her own. If she knew others were watching out for her, she would close herself off even more.
Alberta stood by the door, waiting.
“Yeah, I know!” Rose shouted back, shaking the locked front doors so Alberta would hear it. Rose rolled her eyes when she heard the back door close, well aware of why Alberta reminded her of a simple task every time.
She went around checking each lock, and then the classrooms, and lastly, turning off all the electronics. It was a small gym where Alberta taught judo to kids; Rose worked as the receptionist and did whatever else Alberta assigned her. She was paid enough to cover bills and add to her savings, while the rest went toward rent for the small second-floor apartment.
There wasn’t much to it: a bedroom that just fit a bed, and a living room that shared the space with the kitchenette. It wasn’t a lot, but it was Rose’s. It was empty save for a few plates and an old couch when she moved in, but, slowly, she worked on adding her own furniture and decorations. It was finally something that was actually hers and not given purely out of pity.
It had played some part in the beginning, Alberta was willing to give her a chance because she used to be best friends with Janine before she disappeared. But now, Rose earned it. It was a comfortable home for Rose while she finished high school, and it was better than living in her car.
Rose dragged herself to the couch, needing a moment to rest before starting on something to eat and the rest of her homework. She sighed and closed her eyes, risking the chance that she might fall asleep by accident.
With a groan, she sat up, rubbing her eyes and slapping her cheeks in hopes of waking up enough to keep functioning for a few more hours. Rose leaned forward, picking up the worn leather-bound book off the coffee table, flipping to a page she stared at each night. Rose had written numbers on the page, descriptions beside them; there were pages of it, each given an estimated cost and date. The last page showed the total: more numbers than had been in her bank account, and still far from it. Rose tapped the page, lips pursed as she calculated how much her pay cheque would be.
She groaned again, irritated, and closed the book. At the rate she was going, it would take years even to get close to repaying what she owed. Each time she thought of the money that had stacked up, she regretted every school trip or dance she begged to attend, or the money Olena spent signing her up for sports. The most significant amount was the portion Olena gave Alberta to help buy Rose’s car.
It was an old Honda Alberta kept in her garage, and she offered to sell it to Rose at a low price if she got her licence. Rose didn’t save as much as she had hoped, but still, Alberta claimed it was enough. After a bit of digging, she found the cheque Olena had written.
She didn’t deserve it. Olena could have spent the money on Viktoria’s car the year after, or on Karo’s children. It was what made Rose’s mind up to move out. As long as she lived there, Olena would feel the need to waste money on her when it would be better spent on family.
Rose wasn’t their family. She was a kid that they got stuck with and were too kind to put into the system.
The guilt of what she had taken over the years hit her hard, especially when she was smacked in the face with a reminder. Dimitri had visited the gym with Paul that day; he had been so excited to start judo, and Dimitri had been equally proud to take him. Rose remembered when she used to watch Dimitri take part in the classes when he was fifteen; Janine was one of the teachers and would bring Rose with her to each class. Once Olena took Rose in, Dimitri stopped taking judo to save some extra money for his mother.
He hadn’t seen her, and she was quick enough to duck behind the counter and let Meredith sign them in. Rose hid in the back room all afternoon, cleaning it like she promised she would a month ago. Even Alberta was shocked by how organised it was when she came in to check on Rose.
For the most part, she had managed to avoid the Belikovas, and Rose wanted to keep it that way.
It was easier that way.