Ashes ashes, they all fall down

With Rosalie’s research, there were quite a few wardens who didn’t approve. They were traditionalists, they didn’t want to change the way they did things, even if it meant a longer and healthier life.

For the most part, Rosalie’s stuff hadn’t spilled over too much into Vincent’s life, but when it became known she’d reached the stage of testing on an actual warden, it put a bunch of people on edge, and they weren’t quiet about their disdain of everything.

The harassing reached a boiling point when it started to become physical. A few wardens ganged up on him, they didn’t mean it to go as far as it did. They only meant to scare Vincent a little bit, but Vincent lost his balance and went down like a ton of bricks, hitting his head as he fell.

Then he didn’t move, knocked out completely. That’s when everyone panicked, most fled the scene, but one felt too much guilt to just leave Vincent like that. He grabbed Vincent and went to the University looking for Rosalie, she would know what to do.

Rosalie?! Has anyone seen Rosalie?! He was doing his best to keep Vincent upright, but it was getting harder and harder to do. His voice was filled with an urgency and worry, he didn’t like the fact that Vincent wasn’t waking up.

There was a young man reading a book when the wardens arrived to the university. He was Remy, one of Rosalie’s best students, who had gone more than once to her house to grab a few books to study for the final exams. He also had seen Vincent a couple of times so when the wardens called for her and she saw the face of the unconscious man he paled, rushing to find Rosalie who was in the library.

“Mademoiselle Rutherford! A few men are asking for you and they bring an unconscious man!! They are at the university’s entrance and I think that the man is Vincent!” he said, his voice trembling a little.
Rosalie stood up fast as soon as she heard that she was needed but as soon as she heard that it was Vincent she ran towards the entrance. She could feel the anxiety creeping inside of her chest, why did they bring him here instead of the hospital? She didn’t have many tools available if he was really injured!

“What happened??!!” she screamed, losing her manners before pinching the bridge of her nose. She had to focus and to be professional to avoid mistakes.

The warden who was responsible for Vincent turned to look at Rosalie, his eyes wide and filled with a palpable sense of panic. "We didn't...we didn't mean for this to happen," he started, his voice barely more than a whisper as he stammered out the words. He was clearly struggling to find the right way to explain the situation. "There was an accident...he fell," he continued, his voice growing slightly stronger. "He hit his head, and it was bad. Really bad." He swallowed hard, the fear in his eyes growing even more intense. "And he hasn't woken up since. Not once."

@Rosalie Rutherford

“Well, it clearly happened” she said with tears in he reyes, she wasn’t even mad at the warden she was just miserable at the thought of something happening to her lover. “If this is a cranial traumatism there is little that I can do than to be by his side until he does wake up…if he does wake up” she said, tears flooding her eyes “Help me to move him to the couch in my studio, be careful and avoid sharp movements” she said as she guided them towards her office “Here he will be more comfortable, plus likely he will experience photophobia and feel terrible if he awakens in somewhere as crowded as this place.

Once the wardens left she started to cry, sitting down next to Vincent and praying without stop to the maker, begging that he would wake up and that the damage wouldn’t be very lasting. Hours passed and she kept crying and praying until her voice creaked and the night arrived.

As Vincent slowly regained consciousness, his head throbbed with a dull ache. Blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains, he found himself lying on a comfortable couch, unfamiliar surroundings enclosing him. Confusion gripped him as he tried to piece together the last memories he had.

Where... where am I? he muttered softly, his voice hoarse from disuse. He attempted to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his skull. Memories of a struggle, a fight, and then darkness flooded his mind, but the details remained frustratingly vague.

@Rosalie Rutherford