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"Genetics is the study of how genes and how traits are passed down from one generation to the next, such as parents to offspring."
Ilya stared at the bright screen with conviction, one hand holding his phone up while the other was buried in Shane's hair. The moon outside indicated that the sun was still nowhere near showing up, but neither was Ilya's sleep. Sighing, he pulled back the covers and carefully slid of bed, mindful of his sleeping boyfriend. Shane did not have to witness his unreasonable paranoia.
However, alone in the shower, his thoughts did not seem so unreasonable. After all, it was possible. Genetics and how they're inherited and all that. Ilya might be well on his way to slowly losing his mind just like his father did, which would include him forgetting who Shane was and every moment they had shared together. He took in a shaky breath, while rubbing the water out of his eyes. The cold water had nothing to do with how bad he was shaking.
Deciding to forget about it all for now, Ilya headed out onto the porch and stared at the slowly yellowing sky. He turned back to the cottage, taking in all that he could, from the kitchen he and Shane ate every meal in, to the living room couch where they watched reruns of their favorite hockey matches, to the bedroom where Shane and him and shared so many intimate nights together. He felt stupid even as he did it, but an impeding sense of doom had taken over his life for a couple of days now, and he could not stop thinking about everything he was (soon?) going to lose.
Deep in thought, Ilya doesn't notice the rapid passing of time until suddenly, familiar arms encircle his waist. Messy black hair plop onto his shoulder, followed by an indecipherable mumble. Ilya smiles weakly, puts on his best resting face, and turns around.
"You're up already? What, are the plans for today not letting you get some rest?" Shane mumbled, still rubbing his eyes. Ilya was busy mentally counting every visible freckle he could see, trying to form imaginary lines to connect them and form his own, personal constellations. Then his brain caught up to what Shane had just said, "Plans? We have plans today?". Ilya scanned his memory, but could not recall a single thing that accounted for any upcoming events they would have today.
"Uh, yeah. Hayden and Jackie are supposed to drop off the kids today. Something about me owing them a favor, I don't know. I thought I told you this three days ago? I could've sworn it was during that rerun of The All Star Game" Shane said casually. He put his arms over his head and stretched, letting a strip of his abdomen be visible for Ilya to ogle. But Ilya was not ogling this time.
Dread slowly began to simmer in Ilya's gut, almost like how an orgasm slowly rises to it's peak. His hands felt clammy, and his chest felt tight. Surely, this was nothing to worry about. Shane might've actually forgotten to tell him, and even if he did let Ilya know, it was possible Ilya forgot due to reasons that did not involve his genetics. Yeah, that was totally possible.
"...and I was thinking Amber-Ilya are you okay?" Shane questioned. Ilya snapped out of his daze and met Shane's eyes, seeing the concern there. He smiled, teeth dazzling, "Yes ofcourse, why would I not be? Okay Hayden is coming, so what?." Being on the defense was something Ilya was used to, but he didn't really do it with Shane. Shane seemed to notice too, but brushed it off when he couldn't find a reason as to why Ilya was acting strange all of a sudden.
"I've wanted you to meet the kids for so long now, you'll love them!."
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Ilya collapsed onto the couch, thoroughly exhausted after the day's events. Sure, he loved Hayden's kids and all, and he generally had a good time around children, but he had never spent an entire day around so many. Shane sank into the space beside him, looking similarly drained.
"What a crazy day, huh? I was thinking, how about we skip the breakfast date tomorrow and just sleep in till lunch? I think we still have time to cancel the reservation" he said while yawning. Picking up his phone, Shane started scrolling to what was presumably the reservation for their supposed date tomorrow (?). Ilya didn't know. He didn't know about any dates scheduled for tomorrow actually. And with that thought, his heart rate began to pick up again.
Shane was still talking, but Ilya couldn't hear shit over the ringing in his ears. His vision turned spotty, his head heavy, and he suddenly had the immense urge to throw up. Getting to his feet, he quickly got to the nearest bathroom and emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. The ringing in his ears only intensified, followed by his stomach cramping, thanks to him throwing up. It seemed like everything around him was moving way too fast, and he could barely keep up with it.
Rushed footsteps near him, followed by Shane's voice, "Ilya?! What's going on? You've seemed off all morning, but I thought it was just nerves. Please tell me, how can I help? I'll do anything." It was nice, to feel cared for by someone you loved so deeply. Too bad Ilya was going to forget all of that soon.
"Is nothing. I'm fine. It must be the ah, tuna melt. I think is expired. Watch out, or you might be next." Even as he said it, Ilya knew he probably seemed full of shit. His attempt at a joke was mediocre at best, but he hoped Shane would just drop it.
Shane did not drop it. He ran frantic hands through Ilya's hair, checked his pulse, his temperature, even his breathing. Boring Shane Hollander, always worrying.
"We're going to the doctor first thing tomorrow. Even if it's just indigestion like you said, I'd like to know what's happening" he pressed on, "What's your doctor's name? I'm booking an appointment right now." As Shane left to probably get his phone, Ilya thought of his doctor's name. And almost like it enjoyed toying with him, Ilya's brain supplied him with nothing.
Whatever calm he had achieved in the past few moments was gone in favor of his renewed panic. His breathing picked up again, and so did his heart. Sitting back on the toilet, shaking hands in his head and all, Ilya tried to breathe. He started repeating a mantra in his head,
I will not forget.
I will not forget.
I will not forget.
I will not forget Shane Hollander.
A sob retched out of him, rough and ugly. He screamed into his hands, willing for this to go away, for it all to go away. Warm hands grabbed his wrists, wrenching them apart from his face. Watery brown eyes looked into his, and Ilya's brain supplied him with the fact that he won't remember this color anymore. Dropping to his knees, Ilya wrapped his arms around Shane and sobbed. He didn't know if it lasted for minutes or hours, but he cried until he couldn't anymore. All the while, Shane soothed him. He ran his hands down Ilya's back, and kissed the crown of his head repeatedly. Ilya wasn't alone in his shaking.
"...Ilya? Baby, could you tell me what's wrong? Is it your family? Is your brother okay?" Shane whispered into his hair. Ilya hung onto him for awhile longer, soaking in his smell and skin. Steeling himself, he moved back and turned his head away. Shane tried to meet his gaze, but the blonde was already embarrassed beyond measure.
"Is um, hereditary. Genetic" he supplied. At Shane's confused face, he went on, "My father had dementia. The times he called me during game seasons, it sounded like he had no idea what was going on. He forgot I didn't live with him anymore, he forgot my brother Alexei, he forgot his wife, and he forgot who my mother was. And see dementia. Is genetic, as you say. I will get it. I think I already have it." Ilya suddenly stood up, and walked to their bedroom. He got under the covers and hid his face, thoroughly done with the day and the entire week in general. Shane ofcourse, followed him. He scooted closer to Ilya under the covers and spooned him, burying his face into Ilya's shoulder. Ilya said nothing. Just stared at the empty wall.
Shane sighed, "So that's what you've been thinking about. You've spent all day on your phone for the past four days, and this is what I find out you're doing. Ilya, you do not have dementia. Yes, it's genetic. But that doesn't guarantee that you have it. Genetics skip generations, sometimes multiple, or in your case, your brother could also inherit the illness. You have nothing to worry about."
Ilya continued to stare at the wall, mentally drained. Dried tears made his face feel sticky, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "How can you be so sure, Hollander? I have forgotten Hayden was coming, and that we had a date, and my doctor's name too" he reasoned. According to Ilya Rozanov, he was clearly on the path of dementia. Shane however, did not think so, "It was me who forgot to tell you Hayden was coming. I thought I did, but I clearly didn't. And the breakfast date was a secret I was planning. You had no idea about it" he rushed on, "as for your doctor, Ilya you've never even been to an Ottawa doctor. How would you know a name that does not exist?."
Ilya thought about this, about all of it. It made sense honestly, and maybe if he wasn't so paranoid already, he would've brushed all of this off as a coincidence. Which it was, mind you. It was all just a carefully constructed, fucked-up, coincidence. Wow, now he really felt stupid.
Shane went on, "I've booked the appointment already. We'll get you a check-up, see if there's actually any signs indicating to it. But Ilya, I want you to know that you can always talk to me. Please, don't hold it in. I want to know what's bothering you, and I want to help you like you help me." Ilya heard it all, smiled to himself, and turned back around to embrace his boyfriend.
The next day, Ilya Rozanov finds out that he (fortunately) does not have Dementia.