Archive of Our Own ^beta

The rest of the day passed in the same tense atmosphere. They were pointedly avoiding each other, which was a difficult task in a regular-sized cottage, especially with a baby they were responsible for. In the end, it was Yassen who spent the entire afternoon with Alex, while Rider was somewhere in the house, probably  doing something that was helpful in his opinion.

Although he came downstairs before dinner and offered to feed Alex and Yassen acted as if he only reluctantly agreed; secretly, he was relieved. That kid was a messy eater, and every attempt to feed him resulted in having to wash Alex, clean the entire kitchen, and change his clothes. John and Helen usually smiled when he mentioned that, but now Yassen was glad to see Rider try and fail spectacularly. Except he wasn’t actually going to give him satisfaction by watching.

Instead, Yassen changed into his workout clothes and went for a run on a nearby forest road. He deliberately chose longer trails so he came back almost at dusk. Apparently, Rider cooked some food that Helen mentioned somewhere between one advice and another, and even left some for Yassen, which was unnecessary but still nice.

They had a rather uptight conversation using as few words as possible about who gets to sleep in the guest bedroom and who gets the sofa downstairs. Old habits really died hard, and Yassen hated both places for numerous security issues he loved to point out to John, such as ivy growing near windows. However, in the end, he stayed downstairs. As soon as that matter was settled, they briefly argued over who would have the baby monitor. Despite anything, Yassen had to agree with Rider’s logic that he would be closer to Alex’s room anyway.

Still lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and shifting restlessly after any sound coming from the door, Yassen wondered how the hell they were supposed to survive the next two days in each other's presence.

In the morning, he had enough time for another long run, and the door to Rider’s room still remained shut when Yassen went to pick up Alex. Yassen was quietly talking all kinds of nonsense while preparing breakfast for Alex, according to Helen’s recommendations, of course, when Rider finally came down to the kitchen. On the way to the coffee machine, he muttered something possibly polite and totally uncoherent, which Yassen didn’t dignify with a response.

He would have made a show out of rolling his eyes, but Rider still had his back to him. Anyone could barge into the house and steal a baby, and that idiot would still be sleeping peacefully. That problem should also be discussed with John as soon as he gets back. Yassen was frankly at the end of his tether, and it was only eight o’clock in the morning.

Instead of wasting his energy being annoyed at Rider, he took a little spoon and got to the impossible task of feeding Alex.

“What are you doing?” A slightly amused voice made him turn around with a spoon that Alex had already pushed a few times, spilling its contents on the floor and table.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked in his most patient tone, which was made to concern anyone with at least one functioning brain cell.

Unfortunately, Rider wasn’t one of those people.

“Well, you are doing it all wrong.” He stepped closer and even took the spoon from Yassen. Back in the days, it was a death sentence to even attempt something similar. Now he had to let that slide.

Making a stupid sound which could be mistaken for a train noise if you had never seen or heard one, Rider brought the spoon to Alex's lips. Yassen was almost thrilled, expecting him to fail, so when Alex enthusiastically opened his mouth, it hit him harder than it should have. Yassen kept his composure, not giving Rider any satisfaction, and watched instead as he fed Alex easily.

At least he was ready, so when Rider turned around with a smug smile on his lips, Yassen managed to make his most unimpressed face. “Guess it will be your task for a few days.” With those words, he went outside, because retreating after loss was also a life-saving skill.

Now he definitely couldn’t kill Ian Rider. Not since he was the only person between them who could feed Alex so easily. That combination of facts bothered Yassen more than he cared to admit.

In the backyard, his plan was to take care of various plants and flowers that Helen was growing, but after a while, Yassen had to give up since he couldn’t find anything out of order. It was so like her to take care of everything before going away, but still, Yassen was looking for something as a distraction, and this garden clearly wasn’t the case.

When he returned inside, Yassen saw that Alex was playing on the floor with toys in the living room under the watchful gaze of Rider, who was talking at the same time, and it took a second before it clicked for Yassen.

“What are you doing?” he asked unceremoniously.

Rider looked at him immediately, clearly pleased with himself. “It’s good for a child to start learning a third language so young”, he demonstrated a book with Spanish words on the cover.

“Forth”, Yassen corrected with an equally smug smile.

“What are you... You talk with him in another language?” Maybe not so dumb after all. “Which one?” Or not.

“Russian” Yassen didn’t bother to hide his opinion of Rider’s intelligence on his face.

“What will he need Russian for?”

“Many reasons. It’s useful...”

“In Russia, maybe. Outside, it’s useless ”, Rider interrupted him mid-sentence.

Yassen continued anyway. “Fine. For travelling then. It is also similar to many Slavic languages.”

“Why would he need those for? And don’t say travelling again, there are many ways to travel without knowing a language.”

“Alright”, it took every last bit of his self-control to answer those stupid questions. “Careerwise, then.”

Rider laughed sharply. “And what would that be?”

They both stared at the child who rolled his toy plane back and forth, oblivious to their debate.

“Maybe he would study Russian literature,” Yassen said, but without conviction.

“Terrible profession”, Rider dismissed it.

“Then name a good one.”

They both stared again at Alex, who was now chewing the ear of his teddy bear.

Rider took his time before confidently replying, “He could be a cosmonaut.”

For a second, Yassen could not believe his ears. Surely he didn’t just walk right into that one.

“The first cosmonaut was Russian, so it might be a more useful language than Spanish after all.”

He didn’t feel like adding anything else, allowing the words to truly sink in. Yet, despite the fact that throughout their entire banter, Rider had the upper hand, he now truly lost it. He slammed the book and threw it on the sofa before getting up and gathering Alex in his arms.

“Let’s go play outside. The weather is so good,” Rider said while picking up the blanket and all the important toys.

So they were back to not speaking with each other. Fine by Yassen.

As soon as Rider was out the door, he took the book and opened it. It was an unremarkable detective story by some unpopular Spanish author. It was definitely not as good as his Japanese poetry, but Yassen kept reading anyway. A few chapters later, he could definitely say that it was not appropriate for a child, the plot twist was predictable, and the whole book was decent at best. Yassen still kept reading.

Evening was no different, except for the fact that they got so good at avoiding each other that they ended up in the same room only a couple of times just to take turns looking after Alex. They kept conversations to a minimum.

It felt stupid to change rooms since they had settled on the arrangement just yesterday, so no one brought it up during the rather tense dinner where the only sounds breaking the strained silense, except for ocassional scraping of a fork, were Alex’s babble. It should have felt uncomfortable, but for some strange reason, Yassen was enjoying that. He managed to unsettle Rider enough for him to show it, and that was something to be proud of.

Yassen even generously offered to do the dishes, managing to hide that there were selfish reasons behind that offer besides civilized courtesy. When, truly, he was just trying to distract himself from the fact that his working-out routine was already messed up beyond saving. He had lots of reasons to keep it up, but mostly because he already had enough trouble sleeping even after tiring himself to extent. Now tossing and turning, he truly felt restless.

Living constantly alone, Yassen had no reason to hide the fact that four hours of sleep a night were enough for him but around other people, he preferred to keep up the facade of normality. Here, of all places where he didn’t want to accidentally wake Alex up.

Eventually, Yassen gave up and went to the kitchen to tidy up a little bit just to keep himself busy. When he was finally satisfied with his effort, he poured himself a cup of tea and wanted to get to his poetry book. But since he didn’t want to turn on the lights not to alarm Rider upstairs, he just sat in the dark watching steam rising from his cup.

His senses were as sharp as they ever got, so Yassen heard Rider getting out of the bed, probably the moment his bed creaked unusually. On top of that, Rider going down the stairs was loud enough to wake the dead. Probably the worst thing was that he definitely thought he was being quiet.

As it turned out, the worst thing was that Rider was completely oblivious to Yassen’s presence. Rider actually flinched as he turned on the lights and saw him. Yassen just couldn’t believe how that idiot survived for so long in the orbit of Hunter’s world, which consisted of blood and death.

Rider went to pour himself some water, clearly trying to hide his embarrassment, and cleared his throat awkwardly. “So what are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

Yassen had to hide his surprise. Good thing that he was better at that than Rider. There was no reason at all for them to be talking. He could choose any answer from a wide variety, starting with “fuck off” and ending with “none of your business” - there was a child at the house after all. But for some inexplicable reason, Yassen went with the truth.

“I have trouble sleeping”, he shrugged.

Rider was quiet for a moment as if he didn’t expect Yassen to answer. Which was just his level of stupidity. Just when the silence was starting to turn weird, Rider put down his empty cup loudly. On his way to the door, already with his back to Yassen, he finally replied before turning the lights off.

“Must be your conscience. You know. From all the people that you killed.”

Still not turning around, Rider went back to his room.

While Yassen stayed in the kitchen, feeling as if he had been brutally punched. He didn’t flinch or anything, but just the feeling of his blood simultaneously boiling and turning cold was difficult enough to endure. He clenched his teeth and poured his warm tea into the sink.

Yassen went to bed with a heavy head. He knew that it was his past to live with. The past John shared and understood. When he first came to the cottage, the only judgment he was afraid of was Helen’s. If, for a second, he saw fear or disgust in her eyes, he would have left immediately. Instead, Yassen found sympathy so deep it sometimes overwhelmed him. Helen not only accepted him, but she also let him take care of her child, which spoke volumes. Yassen knew he would never be able to change his past, but every day he did everything to make a better future for those who were there for him in his darkest moment, right there on a gravel path when his life split in parts again.

So he had no idea why Rider’s words, the person Yassen loathed, struck him so hard. He turned again and tried his best to fall asleep immediately.

In the morning, Yassen was so exhausted that he was close to sharing Rider’s affection for the coffee machine.

Yet things only went downhill from that.

It was just a combination of small things here and there. Each of them was completely tolerable, but together they added up to a deadly combination.

Mainly, it was weariness from living in a fragile imitation of truce for three days straight. All their sideways glances were finally starting to pierce their defences.

Unsaid words were right at the tips of their tongues. Air was practically crackling with tension.

It started small. With the weather being the worst kind, with a colourless sky and annoying drizzle, it made it impossible to stay outside. At breakfast, Alex was a lot more fussy than usual, turning away in his chair no matter how many stupid sounds Rider made or how he praised him after any spoon that reached its destination.

Playing in the house today wasn’t enough for him, and Alex voiced his disappointment loudly. Turned out he didn’t like the outside any better. Not only did he not calm down, but Yassen was also soaking wet. At least Rider got equally wet while bathing Alex afterwards, so Yassen’s mood improved a little.

However, the real tragedy was when, after lunch, Mr Rabbit disappeared, and no other toy could replace him. They searched every corner of every room, and it was a mystery to Yassen how a stuffed rabbit could completely vanish in a house not big enough for him and Rider.

During their increasingly desperate search, Alex went from whimpering to non-stop whining, which only added to the tension in the atmosphere. When every surface was checked by them both, and they had no other choice but to give up, Alex was already crying.

The only sensible thing to do was to try to calm him down and put him to bed. Which was easier said than done.

His crying seemed endless, and Yassen was impressed by the strength it required. He almost succeeded in this impossible task by rocking Alex in his arms and making shushing sounds. If Rider didn’t hover uselessly nearby, he would probably start singing an old russian lullaby he had remembered from his early childhood and used before when he stayed with Alex on his own. Weirdly, Rider’s presence made him feel self-conscious, which was a rare thing, so he just murmured the motive, hoping that Aex would appreciate the effort.

After a while, Alex was starting to get quieter and quieter, his eyes closing involuntarily, but Yassen was smarter than that. He kept his steady pace back and forth across the room, shushing and humming at the same rhythm, but gentler now. Once he was sure that Alex was asleep, he carried on anyway for a few minutes before putting him in the crib.

Holding their breath, both made just one careful step to the door when a loud cry startled them. Rider groaned desperately and reached into the crib. Yassen pushed his hands away and, to his surprise, met no resistance. He knew he was better at this. God knows how Rider managed to put Alex to sleep for two nights; maybe it was only because he was tired in the evenings anyway.

Still, Rider stayed. There was no help from him, and as much as Yassen wanted to point it out, he was more focused on Alex with his desperate attempts to wriggle from his grasp. Of course, it was never enough for Rider.

At first, he just moved from one corner of the room to another, a lot like Yassen, except he didn’t have a crying baby in his arms and was giving Yassen a headache for nothing. Then came the advice. It was almost like he wanted to recite every stupid article on babies, probably written by someone who never even saw one. Yassen was doing his best to ignore him, but then Rider, who was clearly proud of himself, said, “He just misses his parents, and that’s it.”

Only a screaming child in his arms stopped Yassen from reaching for his hidden knife. He could explain to Rider that even if that was the case situation didn’t get much better. Instead, he just looked pointedly, knowing his gaze would remind Rider who was the last to have Mr Rabbit. Rider visibly squirmed and went out of the room.

Surely it was too much to hope that he finally got the hint, and as expected, Rider came back with a teddy bear he nearly shoved in Alex’s face.

“What the hell are you trying to do?” he asked in his most threatening voice.

“I’m trying to distract him.” Rider had the audacity to look like he was actually right.

Yassen just couldn’t take it anymore. He turned around and went downstairs to the living room. Rider called after him immediately, “His crib is still here, you know.”

“It will be good to change the setting,” he replied, deliberately not specifying good for whom.

“Who died and made you a child expert? Oh, wait, I know the answer to that one.” Rider mused in a sneering tone.

Yassen felt his blood running cold. There was a limit for anything, and he was desperately close to his own. Still, Alex in his arms grounded him, but the tension was already high enough for Yassen to do something he would regret.

“What is your problem?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Turned out, Rider too was already on the edge and had much less self-control because he exploded immediately.

“My problem? Really? My?” he shouted, but froze as Alex started screaming even louder, even though it seemed hardly possible. Instead, he continued hushing heatedly, “You are the one with a problem. From day one, you’ve been acting as if you are better than me.”

“On day one, you’ve tried to kill me.”

“Oh, please”, Rider scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you don’t understand why.”

Yassen held Alex closer to the chest and didn’t answer. The only sounds in the room were his desperate sobbing, and he and Rider were helpless.

“I knew you coming here meant trouble”, Rider continued, even though Yassen didn’t ask him to. “I just didn’t know where it would come from.”

“I came here on my own, as I explained to John, and he decided to believe me. No way you know me better”, he defended himself stubbornly. “I was never loyal to Scorpia, only to John...”

Yassen broke off before he said too much. Before he confessed that the day he found out John was alive, he felt like he could breathe again. That he was still afraid he would wake up and realize that it was only a dream. Rider didn’t need to know that. He was rocking Alex in his arms almost unconsciously.

“See, that’s the problem”, he finally replied. “You know that I read his reports? The Department wanted to be sure that John wasn’t  going to change sides, so they brought me in to analyze everything he managed to send back to see if I would notice anything unusual. You have no idea how much he talked about you. John wanted them to pull you out, but Blunt denied. But look, you came anyway. I know you are not evil, because John believes you, but god, you can be a menace,” he chuckled harshly as if he hadn’t just turned Yassen’s whole world upside down.

He felt numb. Millions of what-ifs made him feel dizzy. Apparently, Rider felt it too because he reached to take Alex from his arms, and Yassen allowed him. His knees buckled, and he sat on the sofa, practically unable to hold himself together. That was too much for him to take in, but his question was still there.

“Then why do you always bring Scorpia up? If you know that John gave me a second chance here?”

“Because not only did I have to read about how perfect you are, but you show up and act like a real asshole around me all the time. There is nothing left in me that you didn’t criticize.”

He held Alex closer, swaying a little bit in an attempt to calm him. Because while Alex was no longer screaming on top of his lungs, he was still weeping nonstop. However, for the first time in three days, Yassen's attention was solely focused on Rider himself, and the dawning understanding nearly made him laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

“Are you saying that you were jealous of me? Do you think John likes me better?”

“No”, Rider replied fast. Too fast.

“Gospodi”, Yassen could no longer hide his emotions. It was so stupid. They both were so stupid.

“I’ve heard that”, Rider protested dryly. “Still, you started it. Nothing I did was up to your standard.”

Yassen shook his head. “No. You’ve literally tried to strangle me on the doorstep.”

“Again with that”, Rider rolled his eyes. “Our situation reminds me of a snake. The one that’s biting its own tail. There is no way to tell who started it, but all we do is go around in circles.”

Yassen stopped for a moment, thinking about it. Maybe Rider was right. Perhaps they had taken their conflict so far that it was impossible to tell the difference between reasons and consequences anymore. However, there was one thing nagging him.

“And by snake, did you mean Ourobos?”

“See, exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Ourobos?”

“Condescending remarks.”

They chuckled at that inexpectingly. Maybe their situation wasn’t beyond saving. As they calmed down, the room fell quiet. Too quiet. Yassen saw Rider freeze and knew exactly why. Because in the total chaos, somehow Alex fell asleep, and that felt like a miracle.

“What do I do?” Rider was whispering, panicked. “Do I go upstairs?”

“No, you’ll wake him up.” Yassen shook his head, whispering too. “Just sit here on the sofa.”

“That was your plan? Genius” Rider sat down as carefully as if he were holding a bomb.

“Shut up.”

They both sat close to each other in silence. Rider was constantly shifting, and Yassen knew, new understanding or not, he would actually kill him if he woke up Alex.

Suddenly, Rider turned to him. “To break the circle, we should start over.”

Yassen looked back warily. “What do you mean?”

Rider took a deep breath and suddenly genuinely smiled. He extended a hand. “Ian.”

For the second time in merely half-hour Yassen felt like his world was turned upside down. It was “all or nothing” moment, but he knew what to do.

Yassen shook his hand.

“Yasha.”

***