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Sunday, September 25th, 2044 - Ottawa, ON.
Sunday evening loomed over the Hollander-Rozanov household precariously.
The weekend had been spent in limbo— wary of Nadia’s wavering mental state and the aftermath of a tumultuous trauma. Shane and Ilya were up around the clock, desperate to keep their girl safe. Any sleep stolen through the hours was light— often more of a doze than anything— and Nadia was always in sight. When she needed the bathroom, Shane or Ilya would stand in the room, their backs to her as she went, never letting her stray.
Shane expected a fight, something that Ilya was prone to, especially in the beginning. When it felt like Shane was too close, too safe. Stability overwhelmed him. Shane could empathize. The first time Ilya went through an episode and expressed desire to self-harm, Shane was monitoring him closely. Ilya had snapped. They fought, then repaired.
Nadia just sat with a distant look in her eyes.
Shane didn’t know what was worse.
The boys were worried sick. It was made worse by Nadia keeping them in the dark. She had requested that she tell Dimitri and Luka what was going on, and Shane and Ilya, who had already taken much of her agency to prioritize safety, agreed. It just was taking Nadia a little longer to actually say it.
Shane could see Luka and Dimitri’s agitation, but they thankfully didn’t push. Shane knew that if it didn’t come out before breakfast tomorrow, he would have to be doing the pushing.
Thankfully, push did not meet shove.
Nadia was sitting at the kitchen island, the barstool swaying back and forth just slightly. Barely enough to be noticeable. But Shane noticed. He held back a smile.
Ilya was moving around the kitchen, preparing a snack plate for Nadia to pick at. Yuna and David had employed that method with Shane as a kid when eating was too hard for him. A large platter with a variety of different foods was good at maintaining nutrition through the day.
It worked well enough for Nadia, who more so needed something to do with her hands.
So there Ilya was, chopping stems off strawberries and arranging them onto the dish next to a handful of pretzels.
Shane sat next to Nadia, a printed list of therapists in the city including a copy of each of their specialties, availabilities, and biographies. Shane had hand picked them from various websites, confident that each would be able to help their girl.
The fourteen year old had been staring at the sheet for a long time. Shane glanced between her and the paper anxiously, knee bouncing under the counter. Ilya peered up at them every so often, trying and failing to casually prepare a snack.
It must have been about ten minutes before Nadia moved. Shane watched as the girl slowly pushed the paper away from her on the counter.
“I’m tired,” she uttered. “Can I go sit outside under the tree by the pond?”
Shane blinked. He exchanged a helpless look with Ilya before he nodded a little. Their backyard was huge. Calming. He and Ilya had chosen the property because of the quaint but beautiful pond and the abundance of large, diverse trees. The kids loved to run around when they were younger.
“Okay,” Ilya agreed easily, breaking Shane out of his stupor. “Dad will go with you while I finish snack.”
Shane cleared his throat and slipped off his seat, offering Nadia a small smile. “Let me grab my shoes.”
Nadia sat unmoving in her seat. She slowly looked up, eyes focused out the back patio door. “Alone?”
The room fell into silence. Ilya began to shake his head, just as Shane gave a reluctant nod.
“No.”
“Okay.”
Nadia blinked, looking between her parents. Shane and Ilya both paused, looking at the other tentatively. Ilya, in a whispered display of trust, gave Shane an imperceptible nod, urging him to continue. Shane swallowed.
“If you promise to let Papa and I sit on the deck. Far enough that you have space, but close enough to intervene if we need to.”
The teenager scrunched her nose. It was the most amount of emotion she had shown all day. “I’m not going to do anything,” she retorted faintly. “I just want to sit.”
Ilya rearranged the strawberries on the plate. He let the quiet hang for a moment. “Is for your safety, malyshka. You know this.”
Nadia shrugged, crossing her arms over her stomach protectively. She glanced back out the back door. “What if Dee and Luka come?” She proposed after a beat, eyes briefly flicking up to Ilya and Shane’s faces before she dropped her gaze again.
Shane exhaled slowly, looking at Ilya. He tilted his head in silent question. Ilya bit his lip, looking at Nadia carefully. He analyzed her, biting the inside of his cheek. Then, he met Shane’s eyes. He managed a small nod, fingertips drumming on the counter. Shane nodded once in return.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Papa and I will stay inside while you three sit by the pond?”
Nadia nodded at the clarification. She rubbed her arms anxiously. “Uh huh. Thank you.”
Ilya’s lips quirked up in the smallest suggestion of a smile. He rolled his shoulders back, glancing at the staircase. Nadia followed his gaze, swallowing the sudden wave of nausea back. She nodded a little then slipped off the stool, stepping towards the steps. Anya followed behind her, wagging her tail.
Shane and Ilya watched as Nadia paused, took a shaky breath, gently pet Anya’s head, and then made her way to the second floor. Her footsteps were soft against the floor, breaths soft and unsteady. Once she disappeared from view, Ilya turned to Shane, a frown on his face.
“I am worried,” he whispered, eyes falling back to the half finished snack plate. Shane rubbed his face tiredly, nodding in agreement.
“Yeah,” he murmured.
Ilya managed another small nod, looking helplessly around the kitchen.
A long moment passed. Voices could be heard upstairs.
Shane moved around the counter, wrapping his arms around Ilya’s waist and resting his chin on his husband’s shoulder. The Russian leaned back against Shane, blinking rapidly. He placed his hands atop of Shane’s, thumbs gently brushing over the back of his knuckles.
Shane swallowed thickly, pressing a loving, firm kiss to Ilya’s pulse point. He squeezed his waist lightly. “I’ve got you,” he promised against his skin.
A tear rolled down Ilya’s cheek. He sniffed, turning his head and pressing his nose against Shane’s temple. He pressed his lips against the other’s hair. “I got you,” he whispered back, lifting one hand to cradle Shane’s head. His fingers brushed through the Canadian’s black hair.
Inhaling sharply, Shane buried his face in Ilya’s neck. Both men took a deep breath, filling the quiet of the kitchen. Two minutes later, Ilya furrowed his brows, feeling wetness grow on his neck. He gently tugged Shane’s hair, blinking rapidly to clear his own tears.
“Shane,” he whispered, voice cracking. Shane lifted his head when Ilya tugged his hair again, sniffling pitifully. His bottom lip trembled as he fixed his gaze on the mole on Ilya’s cheek. Tears steadily streamed down his face, eyes red. A sob stumbled out of Ilya’s lips, another tear dripping from his lash line.
Turning in Shane’s grasp, Ilya pulled Shane securely into him pressing kisses to his cheek, temple, and jaw. Shane went easily, burying his face in Ilya’s neck, arms tight around his waist. His shoulders shook with silent sobs. Ilya pressed his face into Shane’s hair, hiding the tears and devastated cries into his scalp.
Neither said a word.
They stood in each other’s embrace for a long stretch of minutes. Upstairs, three pairs of footsteps fell in the hallway, causing Shane to pull away and furiously rub his eyes. Ilya ducked his head, gently brushing a tear from his husband’s cheek with his thumb.
The action brought a fresh wave of tears to Shane’s eyes. He swallowed thickly, looking away. Ilya rested his forehead against Shane’s head, taking a slow breath to steady himself. The Canadian brought his hands back to Ilya’s body, holding his hips firmly in his calloused hands. Ilya closed his eyes, running his hands down Shane’s arms.
Gently nudging Ilya’s nose with his own, Shane tilted the Russian’s chin up and pressed a soft, short kiss to his lips. In response, Ilya managed a small quirk of his lips.
Neither moved away.
Dimtiri, Luka, and Nadia appeared at the bottom of the staircase, Anya following behind them loyally. Shane turned to greet them, still holding Ilya’s hips, a tired but loving expression on his face. Ilya exhaled slowly, managing a small smile as he looked at his kids.
Dimitri, who was the first one down, frowned at the expressions on his fathers’ faces. He glanced between the two, unsure of what to say. Ilya and Shane didn’t bother to school their expressions.
Nadia, ever perceptive, glanced briefly at their expressions before looking away. She rubbed her arms self-consciously, dropping her gaze to her feet. Both Anya and Luka responded, the pup brushing against the teenager’s legs, while the twenty-two year old placed a hand on his sister’s back between her shoulder blades.
Nadia was first to speak.
“We’re going outside,” she said quietly, eyes focused on the hardwood floor. Shane nodded, finally pulling back from Ilya and moving towards his kids. He pulled his hoodie off over his head as he approached them, fixing his shirt from where it rode up. He stopped in front of Nadia, rearranging the hoodie before pushing it down over her head.
Nadia blinked, moving for Shane and pushing her arms into the arm holes, shoulders slumping once the hoodie was engulfing her figure. She looked up at Shane, tilting her head. The retired hockey star gently brushed her curls out of her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead and patting her shoulder.
“Go ahead,” he murmured, offering a smile to both of his sons. Luka nodded, gently taking Nadia’s hand and tugging it lightly.
“Come on,” he encouraged, walking towards the back door. Dimitri and Nadia followed their older brother without protest, all of them slipping on slippers or slides before opening the patio door and disappearing into the backyard.
Shane and Ilya watched them go, the sun beginning to make its descent from the sky serving as a spotlight to the three young adults.
“They’ll take care of her,” Shane murmurs, both as reassurance to himself and his husband. His back is still to Ilya, watching the kids walk across the lawn. Ilya nods from his place in the kitchen, eyes fixed on his children.
~
When Nadia proposed going outside with her brothers, she admittedly did not fully think the reality through.
What she really wanted was space from her well meaning but overbearing fathers, and she figured some time with people who hadn’t seen her at her worst just two days ago would do her some good.
She just forgot to take into account who exactly her brothers were.
“So? What’s going on?” Dimitri asked as soon as the three of them had settled under the tree, Nadia with her back to the trunk as she faced the pond, Luka perched on an unearthed root, and Dimitri sitting on the ground with his legs stretched in front of him, leaning back on his arms. Nadia, who had been fiddling with the cuffs of Shane’s hoodie, looked up at her brother and met his raised brow.
Averting her gaze, the fourteen year old looked at her eldest brother, only to be met with the same concerned expression. She groaned, looking back out at the pond.
“I asked you guys out here for some quiet. Not to be interrogated,” she snapped tiredly.
Dimitri shrugged in Nadia’s periphery. “Yeah, that doesn’t really fly when you’ve been on suicide watch for the whole weekend.”
Nadia inhaled sharply, quickly looking in the opposite direction. Luka’s head snapped to Dimitri, disapprovingly shaking his head.
“Dimitri,” he warned. The hockey player curled slightly into himself at the reprimand, but kept his gaze fixed on his little sister. The silence was tense. Luka broke it with a slow breath.
“Nadia,” he called gently, resting his crossed arms atop the knees he bent to his chest. The girl bit her lip at the use of her full name. “Please tell us what’s been going on.”
Several minutes passed. Nadia focused her breaths before slowly looking back out at the pond. She didn’t open her body language, but she didn’t actively close it either. Luka took that as a win.
The fourteen year old played with the worn cuff of her hoodie. “I dunno,” she replied quietly. “Just been tired.”
Dimitri felt terror and frustration well in him. His eye twitched, fingers digging into the grass. Luka glanced at his brother, raising his brows and stretching his leg out, touching his foot to Dimitri’s shin. The twenty year old settled slightly, running his tongue over his teeth.
“Nadia,” he urged quietly. The girl buried her face into her knees. She took a deep breath, hands resting on the nape of her neck and tugging harshly at her disheveled blonde curls. Her brothers watched in a quiet concern. Luka maintained his patience, while Dimitri worked to ground himself.
Slowly, Nadia lifted her head. Her eyes were focused on the pond. She swallowed thickly.
“School sucks,” she admits after a quiet moment. Dimitri tensed at the vagueness. His patience was already spread thin. Luka, on the other hand, celebrated the progress. He kept his foot against his brother’s leg, nodding along. Dimitri opened his mouth to coax more out of Nadia, interrupted by her continuing on her own.
“How do you deal with bullies?” Dimitri and Luka both fell silent. Luka swore he could hear his heart plummeting to his stomach. Dimitri’s jaw clenched.
“What do you mean?” The hockey player asked through gritted teeth. Nadia shrugged weakly, glancing at her brothers. She looked away just as quickly.
“Just like… how do you get them to stop?” Nadia’s tone was achingly vulnerable. Dimitri inhaled sharply. Luka shifted closer to Dimitri, laying a hand on his knee and giving him a warning look.
“How have you been bullied?” Luka asked quietly, looking over his little sister. She shrugged, watching a goose fly over the pond.
“Like… name-calling,” she mumbled. “Taunts about who my family is.” She fell quiet. Dimitri stood up, beginning to pace. Luka followed him with his eyes while Nadia ignored it.
“Who?” He demanded. “Give me names, Dia. I’ll take care of it.” Luka’s gaze flicked back to Nadia. The teenager picked at a blade of grass.
“Doesn’t matter,” she responded faintly. “I don’t think they’re ever going to stop. Not when they find out they were right.”
That made Dimitri pause. Luka furrowed his brows, shifting closer to his little sister. “Dia, nothing they say about you is true. None of it, okay? I know that we’ve had family talks about this stuff before— ignoring kids at school. Should we talk about it again? They’re all just jealous, you know that.”
Nadia scoffed. She looked up at Dimitri and Luka, tearfilled eyes darting between their faces. “You don’t understand! They are right! They’re not fucking jealous of me, they’re disgusted by me! They say I’m a fucking dyke and a freak and a disgrace to the family name! And they’re obviously fucking right because I’m broken somehow!” She was panting, throwing her arms up in a mixture of anger and helplessness.
“I was bullied so horrendously and I didn’t feel a thing afterwards! Do you get that? What kind of… what kind of monster is apathetic to that?! The only time I’ve felt anything is when I drag a blade across my thigh! I tried to fucking fix myself by agreeing to let Levi of all people kiss me, and it did nothing! I’m still just a fucking weird lesbo with no friends! There’s nothing on this earth that can fix that, okay? So just let them say it. Doesn’t matter the consequences because it’s not like I’m hurt by it anyway.”
Silence consumed the backyard. A loon called in the distance. Nadia angrily wiped her eyes of tears. Dimitri rubbed his chin, tensing all the muscles in his body for a long two minutes before relaxing them again, trying to dissipate the tension. Luka blinked. His chest grew tight with anxiety as he tried to make sense of the words Nadia had let explode from her mouth.
Cautiously, Luka broke the silence. “What do Dad and Papa know?”
Nadia curled into herself, burying her nose into the sleeve of the worn hoodie. She let Shane’s scent soothe her for the time being. She wished he was here to hold him.
“Just the self-harm. Obviously. And that Levi kissed me,” she muttered, using the fabric to wipe the snot gathering at her nostril. The hoodie could be washed later. “Papa thinks it was—” her breath hitched. Luka ducked his head, trying to meet his sister’s eyes.
“Dia,” he whispered, pieces falling into place. He was unable to help the quiet gasp that tumbled from his chest. Dimitri’s head quickly snapped up. He moved towards his siblings, kneeling down in front of Nadia. He gently placed his hands on her knees.
“Did you want to?” He asked, tone sharp with anxiety and anger. Nadia’s bottom lip trembled as a fresh wave of tears worked to drown her.
“I said yes,” she sobbed. It sounded desperate. It sounded like apology. It sounded like a plea. “You weren’t there, you can’t say it was anything but a bad kiss.”
Dimitri looked away, bile rising in his throat. Luka scooted even closer, wrapping his arm around Nadia’s shoulders and pulling her into him. She went without a fight, sobbing into her brother’s chest.
“I said yes,” she repeated, voice saturated with tears. Luka nodded, sorrow written across his face. Dimitri moved his hands off Nadia’s knees, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head tersely.
“You were assaulted,” he managed through gritted teeth. Nadia shook her head against Luka’s collarbone, another devastated sob escaping her lips.
“Don’t say that, please don’t say that,” she wept. Luka pressed a firm kiss to the top of her head, rocking Nadia back and forth. The teenager wrapped her arms tightly around her brother’s back, face firmly hidden in his hoodie.
Dimitri clenched his fists, turning away and looking out at the pond as he focused on his breathing. This was the most amount of self-control he had ever exercised when it came to his explosive emotional outbursts, and he felt like he was about to faint. Nadia came first though, so he focused on pulling himself together.
Several beats passed before Nadia’s crying ceased enough for her to speak, and Dimitri felt ready to turn around without punching the tree. As Nadia lifted her head, Luka kept a steady hand on her shoulder. Dimitri carefully sat back down in front of his siblings, breaths measured.
Nadia swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. Luka shook his head.
“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” Dimitri shook his head, scoffing quietly.
“It’s not fucking okay,” he snapped. Nadia turned to look at him. He took another steadying breath. “We have to tell Dad and Papa. So they can get the school involved to expel those assholes.”
Nadia shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees to her chest. “I don’t…” she trailed off, gaze darting to a blade of grass. “I don’t want them to know I’m a lesbian. Not yet.”
The yard fell quiet. Luka’s brows were furrowed in confusion. He tilted his head, analyzing his sister. “Why?”
Nadia shrugged, glancing at Dimitri in a silent plea for assistance. The hockey player caught his sister’s eye and nodded.
“It’s just… tricky,” he explained quietly, still seething with rage. Luka looked between them, confusion growing.
“How? They’re both queer. We grew up going to pride parades… Auntie Rose and Aunt Sveta are lesbians too. Why is this different?”
Nadia exhaled slowly. She pointedly did not look at Luka. “Aunt Sveta is bi,” she corrected quietly, rubbing her nose. “And it’s not that I’m ashamed, it's just…” she shrugged helplessly. “A lot of people think it’s like… genetic or something. They make it weird. I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure. And there’s just so much going on.”
Luka nodded slowly, face pinched in thought. He looked at his brother. “Do you feel like that too?”
Dimitri gave a short nod, still trying to focus on staying calm. Luka made a quiet noise of confusion.
“But… you’re out. You’ve been out for a while.” Dimitri laughed humourlessly, rubbing his face.
“Yeah, but only cause Dad walked in on me and Nolan when we were sixteen.” Nadia’s eyes widened in surprise, Luka’s jaw dropped and a surprised laugh fell from his mouth.
“Wait, really?”
Dimitri narrowed his eyes, glaring at his siblings. “Fuck you.” Nadia huffed in amusement, a small smile tugging at her lips. Luka ducked his head to hide his laugh. Dimitri scowled.
“You both suck. Shut up.”
Nadia giggled, resting her head on her knees. Dimitri couldn’t help but smile. Luka sobered after a minute, grateful for the reprieve. He felt guilty over being the one who was about to break the light moment.
“So people have been bullying you for being queer?” Nadia fell quiet again. She gave a small nod, glancing nervously at Dimitri.
Dimitri, did not let it go unnoticed. He furrowed his brows, leaning closer. “What? What else?”
Nadia looked away guiltily, biting her lip. Luka tried to catch her eye. “Hey,” he soothed. “You can tell us.”
Reluctantly, Nadia looked up, nodding slightly. She took a deep breath. “People also bully me for not being as good as Dad or Papa. For liking theatre instead of hockey. For not being like Dimitri.”
Dimitri felt the air rush out of his lungs. He wasn’t oblivious to the pressure— pursuing the NHL while both your parents were the most famous and skilled alumni of the league was not easy. But to think that Nadia felt that way about him? Anger quickly took place. Whether as vindication or redemption, he didn’t know.
“Fuck!” He shouted, frustration and fury wrapping their fiery hot tendrils around his throat. He stood, body beginning to tremble.
Nadia curled further into herself. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Dimitri shook his head, exhaling heavily.
“I’ve gotta— I’ll be—” he cut himself off, quickly turning and rushing into the house. Luka watched him go with sad eyes.
“It’s my fault,” Nadia murmured. Luka looked over at his sister, shaking his head and scooting closer to her.
“It’s not,” he promised quietly. “Dee just needs to process. You know that. Give him a minute— he’s not mad at you. Just at everyone else.” Nadia gave a small nod, hugging her knees tightly to her chest.
“I wish I wasn’t like this,” she confessed in a hushed whisper. Luka had never been to church, but he swore her tone resembled repentance for sin. He managed to nod.
“I know.”
~
The patio door slid open abruptly, surprising Ilya and Shane from their spot on the couch. Shane stood, turning to face the door. His eyes widened slightly when Dimitri stormed into the house, trembling with rage. Shane stepped towards him slowly.
“Dimitri, hey,” he called, carefully trying to gauge his son’s current state. It obviously wasn’t good, if the shaking was any indication. Ilya stood from the couch, opening his mouth to speak before he was cut off by Dimitri.
“What the actual fuck?” He demanded, staring daggers into his parents. “How the fuck didn’t you notice? She’s… oh my god—” he ran his hands through his short, dark hair tersely. Shane and Ilya were both stunned. “My sister’s been fucking tormented since she started school!” A loud, guttural shout of fury burst from Dimitri’s chest. He threw his fist against the back of the couch, a thud erupting.
Shane and Ilya both spurred into action, the retired hockey players quickly approached their son, Shane behind him while Ilya stood in front of their boy, hands up placating.
Shane gently placed his hands on Dimitri’s biceps, tugging him backwards and more into the centre of the room. Ilya stepped forward with their movements, quietly shushing Dimitri’s incoherent cries of outrage.
Dimitri moved with them subconsciously before seeming to snap back into himself. He spun around in Shane’s hold, smacking his chest. “Fuck off! Don’t fucking herd me like a child! I’m not useless!” He spat, eyes wild with anger.
Shane grunted quietly as he was hit, though remained unmoving. Briefly, he made eye contact with his husband over his son’s shoulder. These episodes from Dimitri were not unfounded; he had been experiencing them to varying degrees of severity since he was born. An unfortunate reality when living with intermittent explosive disorder. Over the years, it had gotten much easier to manage, and Dimitri found himself able to regulate and exercise self-soothing techniques whenever needed. His outbursts rarely reached this level of intensity anymore— in fact, there hadn’t been once this extreme since Dimitri was about to be drafted.
This, it seemed, pushed him over the edge.
Shane and Ilya, ever the loving and attentive parents, had a protocol for this. They both knew it inside and out. Still, Shane hadn’t anticipated needing to follow through with this at the current moment in time. The spontaneity with Dimitri’s disorder was something Shane had struggled to get used to. Still, he was nothing if not an action taker.
Ilya nodded over Dimitri’s shoulder, taking half a step back to give Shane and Dimitri some space. Dimitri was still shouting, running his voice hoarse. Still, he kept at it, trying to size Shane up as the man stepped closer to him, unfazed. It was easier to let Dimitri run through the course of his emotions. He was very rarely violent towards himself or others, often just needing somewhere to release his tension. The best way for that was yelling and moving erratically through the space.
Sometimes it was trying to coax his retired athletes of parents into a fight.
“Fucking fight me! C’mon, hit me! I need— I can’t—!” He cut himself off with a strangled gasp, bringing his fist to his temple, the action resulting in a dull thud. Shane immediately moved into Dimitri’s bubble, deciding intervention was the best course of action. He grabbed the twenty year old’s wrists, tugging them down away from his face. Shane carefully spun Dimitri around, wrapping his arms around his son and restricting his movement.
“Fight all you want, baby. I’m not letting go,” Shane murmured, securing his grip around the young man.
Dimitri began to struggle, fighting against Shane’s unyielding grip. Shane and Ilya had learned that Dimitri, as he grew into a teenager then an adult, needed a release of energy. Something tangible to ground him. As a little one, that tension could be released by a super tight self-hug, tightening all the muscles then releasing— or by running around and yelling. Now when things were this bad, the best course of action was typically a human opponent.
Shane and Ilya were perfectly suited to that.
Dimitri thrashed in Shane’s hold. “You didn’t fucking do anything!” He screamed, arms jerking against Shane’s. Ilya stood nearby, ready to intervene if needed. Shane, while competent and able, preferred to have Ilya nearby, just in case Dimitri’s emotions caused an overwhelm in Shane. It had happened before. Besides, calming their middle child was generally a team task anyway.
“We didn’t fucking do anything!” Dimitri ceased his intense struggle, instead relishing in the tight hold. He jolted. Shane remained steady.
“I didn’t fucking do anything!” The hockey player’s legs gave out. Shane didn’t stumble— holding Dimitri’s deadweight with ease as the boy began to sob.
Loud, ugly wails tore from his chest as he was lowered carefully to the ground by Shane, who was ever so gentle with his boy.
“I just left her to suffer!” He choked, loud and raw. Shane shook his head, kneeling carefully and adjusting his grip on Dimitri so he was hugging him as opposed to restricting him. Dimitri fought against Shane, turning against his dad and looking up at him through red and tearfilled eyes. “I left her to die.”
Shane’s body went cold. Dimitri was rather apt at saying the quiet part out loud. He too had been dealing with the guilt of watching Nadia fade before his eyes. If it was anyone’s fault, it was Shane’s.
“No,” he murmured firmly, grabbing Dimitri’s chin and tilting his head up. In his periphery, he watched Ilya approach, crouching behind Dimitri and gently grabbing the back of his neck, squeezing firmly. The young man slumped forward, shoulders shaking with heavy sobs.
“Dimitri,” Ilya commanded with a gentle dominance. “Look at me, solnyshko.” Shane watched as Dimitri looked up, turning on his knees to look at his father. His face was red and covered in tears and snot. Shane knew that he would look the same later that night. The weight of their reality was a heavy one to bear. Ilya squeezed Dimitri’s neck again.
“Depression is an ugly illness, yes? It takes slowly— so slowly that you don’t realize until it’s too late. Is not your fault, okay? Is not anyone’s fault. We know now, yes? We can help. Get Nadia diagnosed, then treated. Is going to be okay, malysh. I promise.” Ilya’s voice was steady in a way Shane wished he could be. Dimitri was helpless but to nod.
“O-Okay,” he whispered, letting the tears stream down his face. “I don’t want her to kill herself.”
Shane felt nausea burn in his throat. He looked away, blinking rapidly.
Ilya gently smoothed his thumb over Dimitri’s skin. “She won’t,” he soothed, leaning forward and gently bumping their foreheads together. Shane tightened his grip around his son slightly. Dimitri gave a small nod, hiccuping quietly.
“‘M sorry, dad. I didn’t— didn’t mean to hit you.”
Shane looked down as a tear slipped down his cheek. “It’s okay, baby. Let’s rest now, yeah? You need some water.”
Dimitri blinked rapidly, nodding a little and looking between his parents. He leaned against Shane’s chest, resting his head on his dad’s shoulder. Shane, in response, kissed his head firmly. Ilya offered a small, reassuring smile as Dimitri looked at him.
“What did Nadia say to you?” He asked quietly, letting his hand fall from his neck, gently taking his son’s hand instead.
Dimitri interlaced his and Ilya’s fingers. He pressed closer to Shane, sniffling quietly.
“She’s being bullied. Really badly, I think. It’s all verbal. You have to talk to the school, this can’t continue. And… about her assault. That fucking asshole goes to her school and isn’t being punished. He can’t… Papa, he can’t get away with that.”
Ilya’s lips narrowed. He nodded, lightly squeezing Dimitri’s hand. Shane buried his face in his son’s hair, inhaling slowly as he nodded to the top of his head.
“Dad and I will take care of it,” Ilya promised, eyes gleaming with underlying rage. He swallowed thickly, nodding again to himself. “I swear to you, Dima. Everyone who has hurt our girl will be held accountable.”
“Promise,” Shane repeated against the twenty year old’s temple. Dimitri’s shoulders slumped. He gave a small nod and let himself be held.
~
Monday, September 26th, 2044 - Ottawa, ON.
Nadia woke up in Shane and Ilya’s bed around eleven in the morning, feeling heavy with exhaustion. She debated staying in bed all day, letting her soul marinate in hopelessness. It was Anya, who had apparently been lying at the foot of the bed, nudging the teenager’s foot when she noticed she was awake that got her up.
Sitting up, Nadia blinked at the pup. “Not nice,” she mumbled tiredly, rubbing her eyes. “It’s good for teenagers to sleep.”
Anya yipped in response, nudging Nadia’s foot with her nose again. The girl smiled slightly, pushing the covers off and slipping out of bed with a quiet huff at the exertion. Standing fully, the fourteen year old looked around the room, rubbing her eye again with the sleeve of Shane’s hoodie that she had fallen asleep wearing.
After Dimitri had gone inside, Luka and Nadia had stayed under the tree, watching the sunset. Luka didn’t pressure his sister to say anymore; sitting next to her with their shoulders pressed together. It was nice. Some moments they talked, most of the time was just spent watching the pond.
It made Nadia feel a little bit more like herself. Like maybe she wasn’t lost to the ether.
The house felt still when Nadia opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. Maybe, she thought briefly, her heart had stopped beating in her sleep. Maybe this was an elaborate afterlife that somehow mimicked the place she felt safest.
That idea was gone as she neared the kitchen; the sounds of her family quietly chatting moved through the hallway. In retrospect, Nadia wasn’t sure why she hadn’t heard them earlier.
The teenager paused just out of sight from the entry from the hallway, looking down at her hands. She was… alive. Wasn’t she?
Nadia flexed her fingers, focusing on the feelings of her joints curling together. She blinked, bottom lip trembling. Her hands were her own and they looked normal enough. Nadia saw a video at one point that claimed looking at your hands and seeing something abnormal was a sure way to tell if you were dreaming.
These hands were hers. So why did she feel so detached?
A wet nose on the back of her knee startled her out of her brief reverie. Looking around, Nadia’s eyes landed on Anya, who had followed her out of the bedroom, loyally sitting at Nadia’s feet and looking up at her with a whine.
A whistle sounded nearby from the kitchen.
“Anya! Come here, girl!” Ilya called. Nadia stared at Anya, waiting for the pup to run towards her father.
Neither moved.
Another beckoning noise. “Anya!” The pup pawed at Nadia’s shin, whimpering again.
Nadia dropped her gaze to her feet, wiggling her toes in her socks. Those were her limbs, she knew that.
So why didn’t they feel like her own?
Turning around slowly, Nadia looked at the window at the end of the hall, seeing through the sunlight shining into the house. Green leaves blew around in the September breeze. Nadia had died. She was almost certain.
“Nadia?”
Sluggishly, Nadia turned to the voice. She met Ilya’s concerned gaze, tilting her head. Nadia wished she had stayed in bed.
Suddenly Ilya was in front of her, cautiously taking her elbow and whispering something to Anya. The teenager didn’t bother trying to focus on what he said.
Then his soft voice was directed at her. Blinking slowly, Nadia realized they were in the living room, and Nadia had been sat down on the couch.
“What?” She asked, confusion and tiredness slowing her words. Ilya, who was kneeling in front of her, offered her a warm but worried smile. Lifting her head slightly revealed Shane, Dimitri, and Luka, who were standing around the living room, all looking incredibly anxious and worried.
“—yes?” Ilya’s warm baritone of a voice again. Nadia forced herself to concentrate through the haze clouding her mind. She gave a small shake of her head, brows furrowed.
“What?” She repeated, directing her gaze on Ilya’s face. If she still had the capacity to feel, Nadia was certain she would be swimming in guilt and embarrassment. Why couldn’t she focus?
Ilya was endlessly patient, smile unwavering. He gently squeezed Nadia’s knee with his big, warm palm.
“Good morning, malyshka.”
Nadia’s teeth clicked. “Good morning, papa,” she whispered. An apology tried to surface. It drowned in her throat.
Ilya continued holding her knees with his hands. In her periphery, Nadia watched Shane approach the two, sitting next to Nadia on the couch with an assuring smile. He placed one hand on the centre of Nadia’s back, pressing a kiss to her temple. His lips lingered against her skin.
It made Nadia feel a lot better.
There was a moment of quiet that echoed through the space. Nadia squeezed her hands into fists, breaths slow and manual. Shane rubbed her back slowly, soothingly.
“Good job, kiddo,” he praised, kissing her hairline again. Nadia swallowed thickly, rolling her shoulders back. It felt like she was swimming through mud to get back to her body. Ilya hummed quietly at her feet.
“Do you know what is happening, docha?” He asked quietly, eyes searching Nadia’s face. Nadia gave a small shake of her head, rubbing her hands together. Ilya squeezed her knees again.
“Happens with depression sometimes,” he explained, tone easy. “Makes your head feel spacey in a bad way.” Nadia looked up at Shane, eyes a little clearer. Shane smiled at her, masking his worry.
“It’s called derealization,” he supplied quietly, hand steady on the teen’s back. Nadia managed a small nod, looking back over at Ilya. She searched his face, eyes tracing each feature. Ilya was unmoving under her gaze, giving another squeeze to her legs. Nadia then realized he had been maintaining a pattern of every ten seconds or so.
“I feel dead,” she whispered. A sharp inhale of breath came from behind her parents. Nadia looked up to see Dimitri and Luka standing nearby, faces expressing concern. Shane hummed, lightly patting Nadia’s back. She shifted her gaze to him.
“You’re not dead,” he assured kindly. Nadia nodded again. Ilya brushed his thumbs over Nadia’s kneecaps.
“Still here,” he murmured. “Anya was being good. Tried to bring you back. Then let us know you needed help.”
Nadia dropped her hands to her lap. “Good girl,” she murmured faintly, eyes flicking to Anya who was sitting by Dimitri, attentive to the young man. Ilya hummed an affirmative.
“Good girl,” he agreed fondly, sliding his hands up and taking Nadia’s hands in his own. He brushed a calloused thumb over the lines in her right palm. Nadia shuddered.
“What’s your favourite Shakespeare play?” Shane asked softly. Nadia blinked in confusion, scrunching her nose as she turned her focus to Shane.
“It’s Macbeth. You know that. You read it with me once,” she replied quietly, leaning a little closer to Shane. She opened her mouth to say something else before realization dawned on her. The fourteen year old huffed quietly, shoulders dropping.
“Oh. I feel more real,” she announced quietly, pulling one hand away from Ilya’s grip to rub her eye tiredly. “Sorry.”
Ilya shook his head. “Is nothing to apologize for. Can we talk now? Or should we wait?”
Luka and Dimitri approached, both taking a seat in the armchairs, sitting side by side. Nadia furrowed her brows slightly.
“I… I can pick a therapist sooner,” she uttered, looking back up at Shane and letting her hand fall back to her lap. Ilya took it back into his grip. Shane gently shushed her, pressing yet another kiss to her forehead. Each press of his lips made Nadia feel more like a person.
“No no. You take your time with that, baby. Papa and I want to talk to you about school.”
Nadia tensed. The room fell silent, the four men trying to gauge the teenager’s reaction. She looked over at her brothers. Luka had a quietly protective yet apologetic look on his face. Dimitri looked angry and worried, brows pinched. Nadia looked between them.
“You told them?” Her voice cracked on the last syllable, carrying more betrayal than Nadia actually felt. Luka gave a remorseful nod before being cut off by Dimitri.
“Fuck yeah we did,” he retorted. “What’s happening to you is wrong. Nobody deserves that, least of all you. Fuck those fucking assholes.”
“Dima,” Ilya warned, glancing back at his middle child. Shane shook his head, looking down at his husband from his spot on the couch.
“He’s right,” Shane argued, looking back at Nadia. “Honey, we called the school today. They’re waiting to talk to you, but Levi has been suspended for inappropriate conduct. They are planning on investigating the rest of the bullying by your other classmates, but they’re holding off on the investigation with Levi because they want to know if you’d like to press charges.”
The words turned into mush in Nadia’s mind. She blinked, brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. Charges? Inappropriate conduct? Police?
Ilya gently squeezed her hands, drawing her focus back to him. Nadia met his eyes, savouring the comfort of his warmth and assurance. Ilya and Shane were steady. Stable. Nadia needed it as her lifeline.
The room waited for the teenager to speak. Shane’s hand was warm and big against her back. If it weren’t for her parents acting as anchors, Nadia was certain she’d have floated away by now. Been pulled into the sky by the invisible thread everyone was calling depression and left to float in the abyss of sky that introduced itself as isolation. Been untethered to ground and self long enough to identify solely as an entity of melancholy.
Good thing worn, sturdy hands were there to keep her close.
“I don’t want to press charges,” Nadia whispered. Dimitri’s body twitched in Nadia’s periphery. Anya and Luka were quick to ground him. Nadia couldn’t bring it in her to feel guilt. Shane and Ilya’s faces were perfect masks of acceptance, though Ilya’s eyes were brimming with sadness and understanding. Shane’s gave away his underlying frustration and devastation. Nadia dropped her gaze to her lap.
“I just want to forget this all happened.” Immediately, everyone in her family was giving small nods of understanding. Ilya squeezed her hands, ducking his head to try and catch Nadia’s eyes.
“I know, bear,” he whispered. “This will not feel as… tight as it does forever. One day you will breathe easier. I know it.”
Nadia’s bottom lip trembled. She looked towards Shane, eyes fixed on his chest as she tried to wipe her eyes. Shane gently cupped her face in his hands, gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs.
“You are so brave. We will get through this, yeah? We’ve gotcha, baby.” Nadia let Shane take the weight of her head, closing her eyes.
“Always,” Luka chimed in from behind Shane, rubbing Dimitri’s shoulder and smiling warmly at his little sister. Dimitri made a noise of agreement from beside his brother.
“Always.”
Ilya lifted Nadia’s hands, pressing kisses to her knuckles. The teenager’s lips curled at the affection.
“Our beautiful Nadia. You will be okay.”
For once in several months, Nadia found herself believing that maybe— just maybe, that would be true.