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When Shane came out of the shower he wondered if he’d confused the date. He still heard Ilya rummaging through the kitchen, humming to some tune that was playing on the radio. He glanced at his phone, confirming date and time but he, in fact, was not the one who was confusing. He and David had planned to meet up today, going on a little hike. Ilya first had planned to join them, but when Yuna asked him if he’d like to come over to hang out together during the afternoon he switched plans in less than a second. Sometimes, Shane thought fondly, it almost seemed as if Ilya loved spending time with her more than with him.
So, the more surprised he was that Ilya was still home while Dad would appear here at any moment. Shane leant into the doorframe, looking at Ilya with confusion. “Uhm… was there a change of plans? How come you’re not on the way yet?” Ilya turned away from the mug he was about to fill with the terrible instant coffee he somehow seemed to like and blinked at Shane owlishly, then checked the digital clock on the oven and let out a string of Russian curse words, rushing past Shane to grab a jacket, his phone and car keys. Shane watched amusedly how he slipped into his sneakers and let Ilya kiss his cheek in goodbye. “See you at dinner, Solnyshko. Don’t trip over stone or roots.” Ilya said, winking at him over his shoulder. Shane chuckled and waved him off. “Drive careful. I’ll see you. Tell mum to cook something nice.” He had barely finished his sentence before Ilya was out, jogging to his car, his coffee forgotten.
~*~
Yuna, in the meantime, pulled the cake she’d baked for Ilya out of the fridge. Shane told him once that Medovik, some Russian honey cake, was Ilyas favourite and ever since then she tried to find an authentic recipe. When she dropped by the Russian store where David always went to buy his ‘good vodka’ she tried her luck and asked the lady behind the register, an elderly Russian woman, if she could help her out. Yuna had left the shop 20 minutes later with very clear directions on how to make the desired cake.
She hummed softly and sat the baked good on the counter, adding two plates, mugs and teaspoons each before going back to the living room, where she’d wait for Ilya. She turned on the TV but there wasn’t anything that caught her interest. When she checked her watch, she was surprised to see that Ilya in fact was running a bit late. It’s nothing that upset her, really, everyone was late now and then, but it still surprised her. Usually, Ilya was someone who showed up a bit too early. She glanced around, wondering if she’d find something to be productive with until Ilya arrived. In fact – her curtains looked like they could use a wash. If she’d take them down now and put them in the laundry, maybe Ilya could help her later to put them back up. Yuna was not a tall woman; it was always quite a hustle to remove and later reinstall curtains.
She nodded to herself, grabbed a chair from the kitchen and put it in front of the window, climbing on it. She slowly took the curtain down, piece by piece. It was almost done but her arms grew a bit heavy and in theory she’d have to get down and push the chair a bit more towards the side. But Yuna thought she could manage to do it like this, lifted one leg to stand on the radiator underneath the window to give herself a little bit of a push to be able to reach the curtain better. She almost had the curtains down when her socked foot slipped from the radiator. She tried to regain balance and clung to the fabric between her fingers, but it was too late. She fell of the chair, ripping the curtain down to the ground alongside herself. Her head hit the ground, and everything went black.
~*~
When Ilya arrived after a short while he let himself in with the spare key that Yuna and David had given him. “You’re part of the family.” They had said, “You’re always welcome. So come by whenever you’d like.”
The house was silent when Ilya slipped out of his shoes in the hallway. “Yuna?” He asked into the silence “Sorry I am late, was not looking at clock.” Ilya frowned when he’d hung up his jacket but there still was no answer. He walked down the short hallway and stepped into the living room when he froze. The first thing he saw was how the curtain rod was half ripped down, hanging in front of the windows. There was a chair standing there and next to it Yuna was lying on the ground, not moving at all.
Ilya felt bile rising in his throat and suddenly it was hard to breathe. For a second he wasn’t able to do anything. Then he rushed to Yunas side, dropping to his knees and carefully touched her shoulder. “Yuna?” He asked, his voice barely audible to himself, the blood rushing too loudly in his ears. “Yuna? Do you hear me?” He very carefully shook her shoulder, and let his eyes wander over her body, checking for injuries. “Mama, please.” He tried once again, his voice shaking.
Images of many, many years ago crashed into him forcefully, how he had found his mother, her body unmoving, already cold – colder than any living thing should ever be. How he tried to shake her awake, not understanding why his Mama just wouldn’t wake up. How panic slowly crept in; how, under tears, he’d called out for his father. How father and Alexei had stormed into the room, realizing what they were seeing even before Ilya knew what’s going on. Father had yelled at Alexei and him then to get out to their rooms. It was never smart to argue with father, even through Ilya wanted to stay with mama. Alexei had grabbed him by the wrist then and dragged him out, holding on tight even when Ilya tried to rip himself away from him. Ilya started to understand then, that something bad had happened. Something incredibly, earth shatteringly bad that could never be undone. He’d cried, lashed out and for once -because back then Alexei had not hated him yet - he was pulled into his brothers’ arms and held there tightly.
Ilya tried to collect himself; Yuna needed help now – there was no time to just sit around and panic. He grabbed his phone, called 911 with shaking hands and explained the situation in which he found Yuna. After he hung up, he tried to call Shane. “Ilya?” He’d answered the phone, sounding confused. “You need to turn around and come to hospital.” Ilya said, his voice sounding hollow in his own ears. “The hospital? Ilya, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Shane asked and it was clear that he already started panicking. Ilya pressed the heel of his free hand against one of his eyes and sighed deeply. “It looks like Yuna fell off a chair, removing curtains. She’s… I don’t see an injury, but she’s out cold.” He explained and Shane was swearing quietly on the other end of the line. “Fuck, okay. We will be there, okay? We are coming to the hospital. Are you all right?” Ilya could hear Shane and David walking hastily, probably already turning around and on their way back. “I will stay with Yuna.” He said, ignoring the question. Was he okay? He did not have the strength to answer that right now. “I will text you when I know more at the hospital.” He muttered, then hung up.
Everything after that somehow blurred together. The ambulance arrived soon and they loaded Yuna in, letting him ride with her after he’d told them that Yuna was his mother-in-law. Yuna had woken up in the ambulance, spoken to the paramedics – clearly confused. A heavy stone had lifted from Ilyas chest then and he found it a little easier to breathe. The ride to the hospital was quick and Ilya had watched Yuna mutter answers to the paramedics’ questions, staying awake the entire time. He had not dared to move or make any noise; he’d just let himself be flooded by the relieve that Yuna was apparently not badly hurt. They wheeled her inside and Ilya followed quietly but was redirected to a waiting room as soon as they pushed Yuna further down the hallway. Ilya sat down in one of the plastic chairs, sent a text to Shane to let him know that Yuna had woken up in the ambulance and was evaluated right now and then put his phone away.
He shut his eyes and tipped his head backwards, guilt starting to build in his chest. If he would have been on time, he could have helped Yuna remove the curtains. Then she would not be hurt. Why the hell was he not there on time? Why was he never on time to stop bad things from happening?
~*~
Shane and David rushed into the waiting room a short while later, finding Ilya sitting motionless. His eyes were trained on the floor; he didn’t even look up when they arrived. Shane rushed to his side, crouching down in front of him, one hand tentatively on Ilyas knee. “Hey… Are you okay?” He asked, voice laced with worry. Ilya nodded wordlessly and Shane glanced at his dad, who also looked worried. He turned back to Ilya, “I’m sure she’s all right. Has a doctor talked to you yet?” This time Ilya shook his head, once again wordless. Shane pursed his lips. He could imagine what kind of shock it was for his husband to find Yuna like that. Ever since he’d moved to Ottawa his parents had become like a second set of parents to Ilya. Seeing Yuna unconscious on the floor, years after finding his dead mother… Shane felt dizzy thinking about it.
“Family of Yuna Hollander?” A doctor asked from the door and Shane and David were immediately on their feet, rushing over. Ilya watched them from his seat, wanting to know what was going on but feeling like he didn’t deserve to. He’d seen Shane glancing at him over his shoulder, clearly confused, but turning his attention quickly back to what the doctor was saying. Ilya sighed deeply, his eyes trailing back to the floor. He should’ve been there in time. This could have been avoided. This whole thing was his fault. He wouldn’t be surprised if Yuna did never want to meet up with him again. Or if David and Shane wouldn’t trust him to be around her. And fuck, what if Shane was upset with him now? He had any right to be, they all had.
Ilya was ripped from his thoughts when Shane put a hand on his shoulder. He slowly looked up at his husband, who watched him with dark, concerned eyes. “Come with us?” He asked gently and Ilya bit his lip. He absolutely didn’t deserve his kindness. “How is Yuna?” He asked, still firmly placed on his chair. “She’s okay. One of her arms is bruised and she has a light concussion, but she’s okay. We know her room, please come with us?” Shane took his hand and gently pulled him up. Ilya followed silently.
When they reached Yunas room Shane and David immediately rushed to her bedside. Ilya lingered at the door, leaning heavily against it and drinking in the sight of Yuna sitting in the bed, propped up by pillows but alert. He watched her smiling at Shane and David, answering them, watched her wrap her, apparently, good arm around Shane as he went in to hug her. He watched as David kissed her head; one hand gently placed on Yunas shoulder. He felt like an intruder.
Over Shanes shoulder Yuna spotted Ilya, lingering by the door, face ashen and posture tense. He looked incredibly young and old at the same time, she thought, watching him avert his eyes. She patted Shane’s shoulder with her good hand, gently pulling back. Shane understood and stepped back a little, looking towards his husband with worry written on his face. “Why don’t you come closer, honey?” Yuna asked softly, reaching her hand out for Ilya. His gaze lifted towards her again, unsure. He hovered by the door for a few more moments, then stepped a bit closer to her bed, but still out of reach for her. Her heart clenched softly in her chest, and she slowly lowered her arm.
“Thank you for getting me help, honey.” She said softly and Ilya shook his head. “Was least I could do. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Honey, what would you ever be sorry for?” She watched Ilya turn his head away from her, saw Shanes worried gaze in her peripheral vision. “I should have been there earlier – on time. If I was there and helped you, you would not be hurt. I am sorry.” Yunas stomach dropped. She was irresponsibly balancing half on a chair, half on a radiator and Ilya thought it was his fault she fell? Shane was about to open his mouth, but David shook his head at him, probably knowing that whatever Shane would tell his husband would fall on deaf ears.
“Ilya.” Yuna said, firm but tenderly, “Come here please.” She reached out for him again and her tone let no place to argue with her. Ilya worried his bottom lip with his teeth and stepped closer. As soon as he was in reach for her, she grabbed his hand and dragged him closer. She was ready to use as much strength as possible, but Ilya went easy, let himself be dragged down and folding into her when she wrapped her arm around him. “I am so sorry.” He muttered against her shoulder and Yuna heard the quiver in his voice, wrapping her arm tighter around him immediately.
“You have nothing – nothing to be sorry for. You were there to help me. I’m sorry I scared you, honey.” She said softly and tilted her head to lean against his. Ilyas arms wrapped around her waist, holding tightly onto her. She could feel him shake against her, heard his breath hitch quietly. Yuna rubbed gentle circles between his shoulder blades, rocked softly from side to side with him. She knew of Irina and could only imagine how the entire situation may have opened old wounds again. She turned her head slowly and kissed the side of Ilyas head before lowering her own head against his again. She wished she would’ve been more careful, that Ilya wouldn’t be hurt now over the outcome of her actions.
She glanced up and saw Shane and David watching, both looking worried for Ilya, Shanes eyes wet. She tried to smile reassuringly, still slightly swaying with Ilya in her arms and David smiled back at her, putting one hand on Shane’s shoulder. Both of them sat down on at the table close by, quietly chatting, leaving Yuna and Ilya to themselves.
Ilya pulled back after a few minutes, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. He was sitting on her bedside now, still close enough for Yuna to reach. She cupped his cheek with her hand and made him look at her. “I mean it, honey. You have nothing to be sorry for. Okay?” Ther thumb gently caressed his cheek and he nodded a little. “Was scary. Please don’t do that again.” Ilya said meekly and Yunas heart felt like it would shatter into a thousand pieces. “I won’t. I promise.” She said earnestly. God, if she could avoid hurting Ilya ever again she would. “We make appointment now, da? You say when and I come over, take curtains down for you? No more climbing?” Yuna smiled softly and leant forward, resting her forehead against his shortly. “Deal.”