Chapter Text
Ilya Rozanov was exhausted. The Ottawa Centaurs had lost another home game, his boyfriend was on a plane somewhere flying away from him and he had given up cigarettes again. He pulled his beanie over his ears, waved a quick goodbye to his teammates and headed for his car.
Ilya passed by a line of fans waiting outside the arena until golden curls made him stop in his tracks.
The spitting image of his mother stood among a group of fans, big green eyes, his eyes, staring right at him. His brain couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. She was young, probably early twenties, was he finally losing it? Has he been dreaming of Irina so much she now haunted his waking hours?
"Rozy!" A hand clasped his shoulder, and he turned to see his teammate Wyatt Hayes had followed him out of the arena. Ilya must've jumped because he said, "Woah man you okay?"
Ilya mumbled something and turned back to the girl but she had started walking away from the crowd, back turned to where Ilya still stood. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat and without thinking he ran after her.
"Okay bye?!" He heard Hayes yell after him.
"подожди меня!" He yelled towards the girls retreating figure. She didn't slow down but his long legs easily caught up to her.
"Wait." He said, in English.
The woman stopped, eyes cast downwards. "I'm sorry. It's weird showing up like this, I just wanted to see you in person and see if...well..." She took a deep breath and finally looked him in the eyes. He thought maybe up close the resemblance to his mother would fade, that it was just the way the light hit her but no, it was worse. He saw his mama in the shape of her eyes, in the way her mouth was slightly turned downwards, looking for words. They stood there staring at each other until.
*CLICK*
A camera went off behind them. "Fucking shit" Ilya cursed under his breath, how is it boring Ottawa still had a straggling reporter looking for a headline. The girl's eyes widened at the photographer trying to get a better angle.
"I'm sorry I shouldn't be here, this was dumb." She took off further into the parking lot, cramming herself into an old Honda and speeding off.
What the fuck was that, Ilya thought, rubbing his eyes.
@CAHockeyFirst Ottawa Centaur star Ilya Rozanov spotted with mystery girl after loss to LA Kings
Ilya zoomed in on the picture posted to twitter. You can see his face looking at the woman but her hair covers most of her side profile.
"I guess her curls kind of look like yours but" He heard Shane sigh on the other end of the phone "I don't know Ilya."
Ilya had sent Shane the tweet telling him about the weird encounter the day before.
"What are you hoping for?" Shane said, concern creeping into his voice.
"I don't know. Maybe nothing. But I've been -" He hasn't told his boyfriend that he'd been dreaming of his mother almost every night. Surely he would also think he has gone crazy seeing her in random fans. He fell back against his pillows, the bone deep tired has not left his body even with the adrenaline rush of this stranger showing up.
"Ilya?"
"It is nothing sweetheart you are right it was just a long day." Ilya closed his eyes picturing his boyfriend's scrunched up concerned face. "I miss you."
"I miss you too. I love you." Ilya smiled, he'll never get tired of hearing him say those words.
"I love you too, facetime me after practice yeah? I'll show you exactly how much I miss you."
Once they hung up Ilya sat in the dark of his bedroom, the only noise his own breathing. Missing Shane was a constant ache, even with living only hours away from each other it makes leaving hurt even more. They are together, they are in love but they are still hiding, still stealing away a day or two when they can, it is more than Ilya ever dreamed for himself.
He picked up his necklace, his mothers cross had sat against his chest since she died. "Who is she mama?" He whispered, lips on his necklace. There was a fresh ache now living next to his longing for his boyfriend. The ache of a possibility he didn't even know he longed for.
A week later.
"Why the living fuck are you calling me so early Ilya darling I told you I'm in Russia this week" Svetlana rattled in quick Russian, Ilya smiled at the sound of her voice. "I know I know listen Svetla I am going to ask something of you and I need you to not think I'm crazy."
"Ugh" He heard her toss and turn in her bed, Ilya had forgotten the time zone difference when the idea to call her had struck him. "Do you ever remember a time, when we were kids, when my mother was away? For awhile."
He paced his room, the idea had come to him as he was thinking of his childhood trying to search for any clues in his memories. The foggiest feeling of missing his mother when he was young had come to him but he couldn't place when or where or even why he just remembers the all familiar ache.
"Your mother?" She said, alarmed "What is this about Ilya."
"I'll explain later just do you remember a time when she was not there, for months maybe."
He heard her sigh, "Ilya yes of course do you not remember how we met? Your father dropped your chubby butt off at my home and you stayed with us for an entire summer. I didn't even meet your mama until she picked you up one day. We were kids, I probably had just turned 7 and you were either 5 or 6."
Ilya stopped pacing, his fist had clenched his shirt, right above his heart. "Svetlana, could it be possible, could my mama have been pregnant?"
Svetlana gasped, "What the fuck are you talking about Ilya where is this coming from? You think she had? She was?" He could hear the wheels in her head turning all the way across the ocean. In her silence he started to fill her in, the weird encounter, the girl looking so much like his mother, the new ache somewhere deep in him a void he wasn't aware of. The faint memory of missing his mother.
The possibility, the very small, faint, insane possibility that somewhere on the streets of Ottawa was his younger sister.