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There were several days Shane kept track of in regard to Ilya’s depression. They were days that triggered him the worst, like his mother’s birthday, the anniversary of her death, Mother’s Day… But, when Ilya didn’t want to get out of bed that brisk, fall morning, Shane wasn’t sure what was wrong. As far as he knew, no traumatic dates were approaching.
Of course, Shane knew that depression didn’t always need to have a reason. Ilya’s was typically well controlled outside of those dates, though, thanks to a combination of medication and therapy.
Whatever the problem, Ilya kept his eyes closed when Shane ran his fingers through his greying curls that morning and didn’t make any attempts to get out of bed despite being awake. Shane let him stay in bed and left him with a kiss.
Before Roman and Roxie, Shane might’ve stayed in bed with him, but he knew the twins would be up soon. Ilya was the cook in the family, but that morning, Shane started on breakfast, figuring it had to at least be easier than making dinner.
Roman, per usual, woke up before Roxie and beat her downstairs. His dark curls were a mess, sticking up in every direction, similar to how Ilya’s did in the morning, and he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When he and Roxie were babies, they definitely took after Shane the most. Now, though, the soon-to-be preteens looked so much like Ilya that Shane couldn’t help the warm feeling that encompassed him when he saw them. “Hey, bud,” Shane said in what Ilya called his “dad voice”.
“Hi, Dad,” Roman said as he sat at the island counter.
“How’d you sleep?” Shane asked right before Roman yawned.
“Okay, I guess,” he said. He still seemed a little tired, though, and Shane was just glad it was Saturday. The only plan they had for the day was Roxie’s hockey game that afternoon.
“Do you know if your sister’s up? She has a game later,” Shane said.
“I think I heard her blasting Taylor Swift in her bathroom,” Roman said, rolling his eyes. Shane did the same, but a little more fondly. Like Papa, like daughter, he thought to himself.
It wasn’t long after that that Roxie walked into the kitchen, humming to herself and smiling. She loved game days almost as much as Shane did. When she saw him, attempting to flip a pancake, her smile disappeared. “Where’s Papa?” she asked.
“He’s still asleep,” Shane said. That was the simplest explanation.
“Ugh,” Roxie said. She sat beside her brother and then almost immediately rested her head on her arms with a sigh.
“What?” Shane said, looking at her with furrowed brows.
“You know what, Daddy,” Roxie said.
“I really don’t, Roksana,” Shane said with a short laugh.
“Never mind,” Roxie said, once again sighing.
“Roksana-“
“She’s saying that because you’re bad at cooking,” Roman, ever the one for honesty, said.
“What?” Shane said in disbelief. He knew he wasn’t a great cook, but bad seemed a little extreme. “I am not!”
“You always make weird, healthy stuff,” Roxie said, wrinkling her nose. Roman had the audacity to nod.
“Roksana, I’m just making pancakes,” Shane said. He tipped the pan over so she could see. Sure, they were a little more… done than usual, but they were still pancakes.
“Yeah, vegan protein pancakes,” Roxie said with a scoff.
“Roksana, I promise they’ll be good,” Shane said.
“Doubt it,” Roman muttered under his breath. Shane glared at him. He could barely deal with the two as 11-year-olds. How in the world was he going to deal with them as teenagers?
“How could you do this to us, Dad?!” Roxie exclaimed dramatically. “It’s our birthday!”
“Your birthday isn’t until Thursday, Roksana,” Shane said.
“Fine, then it’s almost our birthday,” Roxie said with an exaggerated groan. “For ten minutes, I’ll be older than Roman.”
“You’re always ten minutes older than me, Roxie,” Roman said, looking much too pompous for an 11-year-old.
“You know what I mean, dummy!” Roxie shot back. Before Shane could interfere, the two began bickering, something that had become much more common as they got older. Shane just hoped it didn’t last forever. He missed his two babies who refused to sleep in different rooms and held each other’s hands wherever they went.
“Ta-da!” Shane later said as he put the finished plate of pancakes down in front of Roman and Roxie, almost half an hour later. Both of the twins stared at the plate with wide eyes. Really, Shane didn’t think they looked that bad.
“Where’s the syrup?” Roxie asked.
“We’re out, but these don’t need syrup!” Shane said.
“I’m getting Papa,” Roxie immediately said, jumping down off the barstool. “I don’t want to choke and die before I turn 12.” It was the wording that hit Shane so forcefully. Die. 12. Hearing it like that chilled him. Roxie and Roman were going to be 12. They were going to be the same age Ilya was when his mom died.
“Wait, don’t!” Shane said before Roxie could make it far. She looked back at him, obviously confused by his outburst. “Let Papa rest, okay? We can have cereal or something.” Roxie didn’t seem appeased, her arms folded across her chest.
“What about pancake corndog sticks?” she asked.
“I know I told your papa to stop buying those,” Shane mumbled before he sighed and nodded. Even as Roxie cheered and ran to the freezer, Shane could only uneasily think about Ilya.
After breakfast, Roman and Roxie fought over the remote, with Roman winning and deciding to turn on some show about museums. Shane left them to it and carried a bowl of cereal and one pancake corndog on a tray into his and Ilya’s bedroom. His husband was still lying down, but at least didn’t seem to be sleeping. Shane sat beside him on the bed, careful not to spill anything. “Hey,” he said. “Brought you breakfast.”
“You cooked?” Ilya said.
“I resent your tone, mister,” Shane said, which got a small smile out of Ilya. “And, no, I tried to, but apparently my pancakes aren’t good enough for our daughter. They ended up eating cereal and your weird corndog things.”
“Oh, those must be old,” Ilya said, shaking his head. “I haven’t bought any in awhile.”
“Uh-huh,” Shane said suspiciously. Ilya sat up and leaned against the headboard. He took the tray from Shane and put it in his lap. “How’re you feeling?”
“Tired,” Ilya said. Shane had known Ilya long enough to know that tired was just another word for depressed. It wasn’t the same as Ilya saying he was sleepy. That was fine and just a standard symptom of being in your 40s.
“I’m sorry,” Shane said, putting his hand on Ilya’s lap. “Do you feel okay enough to go to Roksana’s game?”
“Of course,” Ilya said. “I need the fresh air anyway.” Shane nodded in agreement. The last thing he wanted to do was push Ilya, but he knew, from experience, that bed-rotting wasn’t going to help.
“Okay,” Shane said. “If you want to talk about anything, I’m here.”
“Like what?” Ilya asked.
“Nothing,” Shane was quick to say. “I was just offering.” He was scared to bring up his hypothesis out of fear that Ilya wasn’t even thinking about how the twins would be the same age as he was when everything changed for him. That would only make things worse.
“You’re thinking something,” Ilya said, looking at Shane like he could see inside his very soul.
“I’m not,” Shane insisted.
“I’ve been married to you for fifteen years, моя любовь,” Ilya said, a small smile on his face. “Besides, you’re not exactly hard to read.”
Before Shane could say anything else, the sound of footsteps running down the hall interrupted him. “Dad!” he heard Roman yell. “Roxie changed the channel and won’t give me back the remote!”
Ilya knew something was obviously on Shane’s mind, but, as horrible as it sounded, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Just thinking that made him feel like a pathetic husband, but his thoughts had been occupied by much darker things lately.
When the month of Roman and Roxie’s birthday began, Ilya knew the significance of their age. Truthfully, he’d been thinking about it before they were even born. Even when they were teeny-tiny babies, Ilya had nightmares of them at the age of 12 finding his lifeless body like he did his mama.
He had talked about the nightmares a few times with Galina, but that was years ago when the date seemed far away. Now, though, it was the week of their twelfth birthday, and Ilya felt slightly nauseous at the thought. He had ruminated long enough to figure out why it bothered him so much. There were a few reasons.
The first one he came to was understandable. Seeing how young Roman and Roxie were at this age made him understand how young he had been when he found Irina. At the time, he felt like being 12 was practically being a teenager, which was practically being an adult, but there was little truth to that. 12 was still a kid. It was still too young to have seen the things Ilya had. He may have felt older because, with his mom’s depression and dad’s disdain, he’d been raising himself for years by then. That didn’t change the fact that he was still 12, still the age that Roxie brushed her American Girl doll’s hair and Roman slept with his stuffed centaur.
It was the next part that he felt more hesitant to share. Even thinking it made him feel insane. Ilya worried that he was cursed. His biggest fear was leaving Roman and Roxie just like his mom left him, at the same age, with the same method, the same everything. It didn’t matter that Ilya hadn’t made any suicide attempts in decades because, according to his brain, he was cursed. It would happen regardless.
With those thoughts in his head, it wasn’t surprising that Ilya wasn’t up for breakfast with his family. He had to force himself to even go to Roxie’s game, telling himself over and over again that, if he was going to die, he wanted to spend every possible minute with his family. Every moment he remembered with his mama was a gift.
Getting up and getting ready for Roxie’s game felt like the hardest thing Ilya had ever had to do, despite objectively knowing how false that was. As Shane was running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, wanting to make sure Roxie had everything she needed for her game, Ilya sat silently on the couch. Usually, he’d be right there with his husband, yelling that Roxie forgot to put her dirty socks in the hamper last game or haphazardly packing her favorite snacks.
It wasn’t until he felt the couch dip that he realized he wasn’t alone. “Papa?” Roxie said. Ilya looked at her and immediately noticed how worried she looked.
“Hi, малышка,” he said, doing his best to level out his voice to erase any unease she had. “Are you ready for your game?”
“Are you okay?” Roxie asked, ignoring his question. Ilya forced a smile.
“Of course I am!” he said. “I’m about to watch my favorite daughter lead her team to another victory!” Roxie giggled as Ilya put his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head and took a whiff of her strawberry-scented shampoo. He felt tears prickle behind his eyes. He knew he would do anything to stay right here forever. In this house with Roxie, Roman, and Shane. Everything in him told him that wasn’t going to happen.
Even though Ilya came to Roxie’s game, Shane didn’t feel like he was actually there. He didn’t seem present. Usually, Ilya would be banging against the glass, backseat coaching despite rejecting a coaching position on Roxie’s team every year. Today, he was quiet. Even when Roxie scored, he would just absentmindedly clap. No cheers, no chirping the other players even though they were kids.
Despite the stark difference in Ilya’s behavior, Roxie won her game. They stopped for ice cream like they always did, even when Roxie lost.
Roman and Roxie were hyped up on sugar and adrenaline by the time they all got home. Ilya would normally be right there with them, but he was sluggishly putting away everyone’s shoes. “Dad, Dad, can we watch the Eras Tour documentary?” Roxie excitedly asked, practically jumping up and down. 
“No! We watched that last week!” Roman exclaimed.
“So?” Roxie retorted. “I won my game, and it’s my birthday!”
“Our birthday!” Roman was quick to correct.
“Alright, enough, guys,” Shane said before they could argue further. “Roman, we watched what you wanted to watch last night, so it’s your sister’s turn.” Roman groaned, while Roxie began to cheer.
“Papa, we’re watching Taylor!” she said, running over to Ilya, who was still lingering in the foyer.
“I think I’m going to skip tonight, малышка,” Ilya said. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well and still a little tired.” Roxie frowned, and even from several feet away, Shane could tell how upset she was.
“Papa-“
“I’m sorry,” Ilya said again before walking past Roxie. He didn’t even look at Shane or Roman as he continued to the master bedroom. Both Roman and Roxie looked at Shane with wide, watery eyes.
“Come on,” Shane said, putting a fake smile on his face. “Let’s go turn on the movie.”
The air remained tense even after the movie was turned on. Roxie wasn’t singing along, and Roman wasn’t reluctantly tapping his foot to the beat of the music. Shane didn’t even know what song was playing; his mind was completely focused on Ilya. He had tried to give him some space, but thirty minutes after he had gone to bed, Shane decided to check on him.
Unsurprisingly, Ilya was in bed, lying on his side as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. For the second time that day, Shane sat beside him and put his hand on his side. “Hey,” he said. “How are you doing?”
“Okay,” Ilya said, not taking his eyes off his phone. Shane snatched it out of his hands and put it face down on his nightstand. “Hey!”
“Baby, you don’t have to pretend you’re not hurting,” Shane said. “You know that.”
“I know,” Ilya quietly said.
“Is it the twins’ birthday?” Shane asked.
“How did you know?” Ilya said.
“I’m your husband,” Shane said simply. “Now, come on. Let’s talk. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Ilya sighed.
“I’m worried that there’s something wrong with my family,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m worried that we are cursed. I’m worried that I’m going to die when Roman and Roxie are 12, just like my mama.”
“Oh, Ilyusha,” Shane said. Not for the first time, his heart broke for his husband.
“I know it’s stupid,” he said.
“It’s not stupid,” Shane said firmly. “Have you talked to Galina about this?”
“Not so much,” Ilya said.
“I think you should tell her,” Shane said. “You see her on Monday, right?” Ilya nodded.
“I know that it isn’t logical,” he said.
“But it’s still affecting you,” Shane said. “That’s what matters.”
“You don’t think it will happen, though?” Ilya asked, staring up at Shane with eyes that looked too afraid to be hopeful.
“No,” Shane immediately said. “I think you’re stuck with us for at least 100 more years.”
“Oh, so I die at 147?” Ilya said, his mouth twitching upwards.
“Absolutely, yes,” Shane said, nodding as seriously as he could. Ilya laughed, and the noise instantly made Shane feel lighter. “Even that wouldn’t be long enough with you, though.”
“You’re such a sap,” Ilya said. However, if the tears in his eyes were anything to go by, he agreed. “Are the kids okay? I think I scared them.”
“They’re just worried,” Shane said. “I think this is the first time they’ve noticed that you’re having an episode. This is the worst it’s been in awhile, and I don’t think they understand what’s happening.”
“Should we tell them?” Ilya asked. Shane bit down on his bottom lip, mentally debating just that. Deep down, he knew Roman and Roxie were smart enough and mature enough to handle the truth, but a part of him wanted to keep them innocent. “I think they should know. They’re almost teenagers and may start feeling the same. Or have friends that do. I want them to know that I understand and that it’s not something to be ashamed to talk about.”
“You’re right,” Shane said. Ilya usually was about those things. “I know Roxie is terrified. You said no to Taylor.” Ilya burst out laughing, and Shane quickly joined in.
A few minutes later, the couple walked into the living room, hand in hand. The movie had been paused, and Roman and Roxie were calmly sitting on the couch like they did whenever they were trying to be angels for their grandparents. “Why’d you stop the movie?” Shane asked. Roman and Roxie looked at each other.
“They’re doing the twin thing,” Ilya whispered to Shane. “Twin telepathy. Ruby and Jade do it too.” Once upon a time, Shane would’ve laughed at that, but it did seem like Roman and Roxie read each other’s minds sometimes.
“What’s wrong with Papa?” Roxie asked after whatever silent conversation she and Roman had was over. Ilya and Shane walked over to the couch. The twins spread apart, making room for their dads, who sat close to them.
“Papa hasn’t been feeling well, sweetie,” Shane said. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but he figured that was as good a place as any.
“Like a cold?” Roman asked.
“No, мышонок. It’s different. Emotional,” Ilya said, putting his arm around Roman. Roman rested his head against Ilya’s chest, his hand going to absentmindedly touch Ilya’s necklace like it often did. “You know, my mama died when I was your age. Or when I was 12, which you almost are.” Roman and Roxie got still and more attentive, like they always did when Irina was brought up. They’d been told many things about her, but almost all of them were positive. They only knew her as Papa’s Mama, who liked to sing while making blini in the morning and whose laugh filled up the entire room. Roxie, in particular, had a close connection to Irina, just as she did Yuna. There was even a picture of Irina, blurry and one of few, on her nightstand. When she was younger, Roxie would kiss the photograph and say “Goodnight, Бабушка,” before she went to sleep. Shane still sometimes heard her do it.
“So, you’re sad?” Roxie asked.
“Yes, a little,” Ilya said. “My mama, she would get sad too. She was depressed, and that’s how she died.”
“Did she kill herself?” Roman asked. The bluntness of the question made Shane’s breath catch. Realistically, he knew that his children knew what suicide was. They’d seen it in movies or read about it in books. He just didn’t expect to hear those words today.
“She did,” Ilya said, not missing a beat.
“You won’t do that, though, right?” Roxie asked. There were tears in her eyes as she desperately searched for comfort in her papa. Shane looked at Ilya nervously. What could he possibly say to her? What could he say to reassure her fears, fears that Shane himself still had?
“I have more than my mama had,” Ilya said after some silence. “I have you, your brother, your dad, your grandparents, my friends. I also have medicine and talk to a doctor every month.”
“But you do have depression?” Roman asked.
“Yes,” Ilya said.
“Are we going to have depression since you and your mama did?” Roxie asked, fear evident in her tone.
“I don’t know,” Ilya admitted.
“But, if you ever feel sad, you can always come and talk to us,” Shane said. He didn't know much, but he did know that. “You’re never alone.” Roman and Roxie nodded.
“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?” Roxie asked.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Shane said quietly. Ilya let out a sob, and he was sure his husband was thinking the same thing he was. They had raised such great kids.
“You are already doing it, малышка,” Ilya said, his voice thick with sadness. “I’ve been sad today. Sad about my mama and thinking sad thoughts, but being with you, your brother, and dad helps. It always has. I love you all so, so much.”
“We love you too, Papa,” Roxie said.
“We love you,” Shane said, resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder before kissing it.
"Love you, Papa,” Roman said. “And I’m sorry about your mama. I hope she’s less sad now.”
“She is because she is a grandma to the best grandkids in the world,” Ilya said, kissing the top of Roman’s head. “She would’ve loved you both so much. And loved Daddy.”
“I wish we could’ve met her,” Roxie said, sadly sighing.
“I do too, baby,” Ilya quietly said.