Archive of Our Own

They hadn’t dared write it on the calendar; their daughter became too smart for that.

Shane had resorted to keeping a file folder with appointment cards tucked away in his office, putting the reminders in his shared Google calendar with Ilya. They learned their lesson about publicly displaying appointment reminders too visibly once their daughter had figured out what those little rectangle cards paperclipped to the calendar page meant.

Natalya had always been their anxious child, regardless of how outgoing she could be once she was comfortable. Any scenario where she felt out of control was a recipe for disaster in the Hollander-Rozanov family. And there was nothing like medical appointments that would make their daughter feel inconsolably out of control.

The environments were sterile, regardless of how hard they tried to be kid-friendly, she wasn’t so easily tricked. It didn’t matter how many cartoon characters were painted on the walls or how many stickers she was promised, there was no amount of bartering that would sway her to cooperate.

They hoped as she got older that the tantrums would subside, or at least be easier to manage, but it would be more likely that they would win the lottery first. Even though neither have ever bought so much as a scratch ticket.

Once they had settled Natalya into bed, none the wiser to what the next day would hold for her, Shane and Ilya huddled into their home office. A game plan needed to be made, the whiteboard might even have to come out, drawing strategies the same way they would outline a power play.

“Okay, what do I say to get her in the car?” Ilya said, absentmindedly biting his thumbnail.

“I think you should say the grocery store. The appointment is at 10:30, and you usually go to pick up ingredients for dinner at 10, right?” Shane replied, scribbling on the whiteboard, bullet points filling the side of the hockey rink-printed board.

Ilya huffed, “yes, that’s true. I really don’t like that you won’t be there. Scary to take her by myself,” he said, knowing he likely wouldn’t be sleeping tonight as the anxiety ate him alive.

Shane softened, placing a hand on Ilya’s knee, “I know, dear. I hate that tomorrow had to be signing day and the banquet. If I didn’t have to be there, I absolutely wouldn’t,” he explained, knowing how much of an ordeal every doctor’s appointment was.

They always tag-teamed. It was an orchestrated effort; one handling the logistics while the other wrangled their distraught child as she tried everything she could to get out of the appointment. It had gotten so bad that they had to take her to a dentist that could do sedation just to fill a tiny cavity. Five-year-olds were determined, and they knew for a fact that theirs was probably the most determined one out there.

“I know, moya lyubov. I don’t know how good I will do by myself. She’s very persistent, and I am not good at lying.”

“It’s not lying, it’s just not exactly telling the truth…” Shane said, more so trying to convince himself. He hated that they frequently had to trick her into these things, but he knew they were necessary. It was only the fear of any form of neglect that drove Shane to follow through with each deception. It was done out of love; he insisted over and over to Ilya and himself.

“It feels like lying. And like she’ll hate me when she sees us pass the grocery store.”

“It’s for an important reason, though. She needs her shots before school starts, and with how busy we’ll be this summer we need to get it done now.”

“I will homeschool her. We can become anti-vax parents, I’ve seen on TikTok,” Ilya mumbled.

Shane scoffed, knowing they were the furthest thing from medicine conspiracy theorists, pausing his drawing of ‘passing lanes’, showing paths from the car into the doctor’s office, “do you really believe that?”

“No, don’t want her to get sick. Vaccine is good invention, just unfortunate for terrified little girls, and terrified Papa,” Ilya sighed.

Ilya was well aware she likely got these phobias from him, his own anxieties shining through in any sort of medical environment, even when the appointment wasn’t for him. He couldn’t explain it either, he simply didn’t like them. As a child, he was never allowed to be afraid, so it stayed bottled up. Through every tear shed in the doctor’s office, he was just grateful that she wasn’t battling an internal storm through every check-up, no matter how hard it was for them.

“Yes, very terrified Papa,” Shane said, smiling as he ran a hand through Ilya’s curls. Shane also hid Ilya’s appointment reminders in the file folder, only reminding him the day before so he wouldn’t be nervous about them for three weeks prior.

Their gameplan was loose, considering how likely it was that the plan would be thrown out instantly. Ilya would say they were going to the grocery store. Then, when she inevitably noticed that they passed the store, Ilya would break the news, but not yet revealing that her vaccines would be coming that afternoon. Once the initial upset was past, he would butter it up by saying they would get ice cream and new paints after, as long as she reasonably behaved. They put a box of tissues in the car, ready for the meltdown.

Ilya practiced the vaccine hold that they learned online after the doctor recommended it for her. Was it a little awkward to practice on Shane’s much larger body? Yes, but it was imperative that he practice. He would tuck her legs between his, hold her head against his shoulder, and hold her arm steady for the nurse. They had to calm their laughter as Shane tried to crawl with discoordination out of Ilya’s grasp, simulating their daughter’s likely tantrum, leading to a wrestling match on the floor.

“Shane, vaccines are good for you, like vegetables! You like those so much!” Ilya whisper yelled, pinning Shane to the floor roughly, inching his face down to his to leave the softest kiss on his lips.

“See? You’re so convincing! You’ll be fine tomorrow,” Shane giggled, pulling Ilya back down to him, kissing him with a hand gripped to the back of his neck.

Their knees might creak a little more these days, and their backs a little sorer, but some things would never change with age.

Before settling into bed around 11, Ilya cracked open Natalya’s door and watched her sleep so calmly, completely unaware of what the next day would hold. He watched as her breaths slowly rose and fell, sure to be replaced with ragged and fast hiccups in a few short hours. He carefully closed the door, sure to not let the click of the doorhandle wake her. She needed the sleep, and he did too.

When Shane woke the next morning, he could tell that Ilya was only dozing. There was no soft snore coming from the opposite side of the bed, and instant tell that he wasn’t in the deep sleep he normally was at this time of the morning. Shane softly padded through their bedroom into the bathroom, not wanting to interrupt any amount of sleep Ilya could get. He felt guilty enough, he didn’t need to make it any worse by leaving him even more exhausted than he surely would be by the end of the day.

Shane always worked his schedule around their daughters’ appointments anytime he could, even Mariya’s, though she was sixteen years old. She wouldn’t admit it, but she still liked it that Shane took her for lunch or shopping after appointments. It felt juvenile, but it was time they could spend together now that her schedule was so packed that it left little time for those moments. Shane took every opportunity he could to spend what little time he had left with her before she went to college, even if that meant taking a morning off of work just to take her to physical therapy. He reminisced on the day that he’d been so upset that Ilya had pulled her out of school for the whole day after a dentist appointment, God he still had so much to learn back then.

Shane did what he could and made sure that Mariya’s lunch was packed, breakfast was prepared, and plenty of coffee was made before the rest of his family made their way downstairs. He would do anything to make this day easier for Ilya. Anya joined him in the kitchen, her graying, friendly face looking up at him. She was getting older, but she still had that excitement anytime that her favorite humans were awake for the day. There was endless room in her heart as their family grew.

Shane was comforted by the thought that when Ilya and Natalya returned home, Anya would be ready for her comforting duties. He could see it already that Natalya, tearstained and exhausted, would quickly climb onto the couch where Anya would rest her head on Natalya’s tiny lap, ending in a nap for the both of them. Natalya would be better once she woke up, forgiving of all the commotion for the day, and their home would return to its usual calm and happy energy. He smiled down at Anya, petting her head lightly, “I can’t be there today, but at least I know you and Papa have it handled,” he said softly to her as he opened the back door to let her out.

The morning started as it always did, regardless of the fact that three members of the family came to the kitchen with uneasy feelings in their stomachs, the fourth none the wiser. Breakfast was on the table, the news drawled on in the living room, and Mariya rushed around the house to get ready after waking up slightly later than she intended to.

Natalya tried to follow her around as she got ready for school, but Mariya encouraged her to stay in the living room, knowing she might slip up and ruin the morning by telling her the events for the day by accident. Mariya always felt protective of Natalya, and even though she could be a pain at times, she still never wanted to see her upset.

“Daddy, why is Masha being weird?” Natalya asked, laying with her head hanging off the couch.

Shane swallowed, worried that her pattern recognition was going to get them in trouble even earlier than anticipated, “teenagers are weird sometimes, you’ll be weird when you’re sixteen too,” Shane covered.

“No, I won’t!” She argued.

“Right, won’t be weird when you’re sixteen, because you are already big weirdo,” Ilya teased, grabbing her by the legs and hanging her upside down over the couch.

The distraction worked, getting her off the topic of Mariya’s apprehension. Mariya dragged Shane out the door not too much later, whispering a pep talk in her Papa’s ear as she said goodbye. He responded with a curt nod, saying his I love you’s.

“Honey, be good for Papa today, I won’t be home until just before dinner tonight,” he said, squeezing her just a little tighter than normal.

She hugged him enthusiastically, breaking his heart just a little bit more, “I will! Papa, can we go feed the ducks at the pond?”

Ilya wished more than anything that there was a single cloud in the sky to give him an excuse, but unfortunately the sun shone through the windows without any indication that it would stop sometime soon, “maybe, Zakya. We will see if we have time after errands.”

Before heading out for the day, Shane embraced Ilya tightly, whispering in his ear, “the numbing cream is in our bathroom, pretend she has a cut on her arm and put it on at 9:30. You got this.”

Ilya didn’t feel like he had this, but he would try anyways.

They sat at the dining room table, painting to their hearts content for the next hour. Ilya painted a page full of flowers, just trying to calm his anxiety. He kept checking the clock over and over, timing when he would have to start his ruse.

She was distracted as ever, already on her fourth painting. It almost made it worse, seeing her so happy to spend the day with him. Today should have been fun, they should have been talking a walk to the pond to feed Goldfish crackers to the ducks. But now, he was scheming how to get her in the car and make it through the day unscathed.

He looked at the red paint, and his first ruse started to come together. When she looked down at Anya, he quickly swiped his thumb into the dark red watercolor paint. Her tank top had her arm exposed, something they planned out to take another step out of the vaccine process.

“Natashenka, what’s this cut on your arm?” Ilya asked with concern, swiping his red thumb over her upper arm, exactly where the numbing cream from the doctor would have to sit.

“What cut?” She said with concern, looking down at the now red splotch on her arm.

Ilya’s chest loosens just a little, knowing he’d succeeded in step one, “I think is just bug bite, I’ll grab a band-aid and the cream, stay here.”

He successfully spread the numbing cream onto her arm, securing a big bandage over it, “will make sure it doesn’t itch,” he said calmly. She looked suspicious, knowing he would never do this much for a bug bite, but the smear of “blood” seemed to make her concerned enough to go along with it.

As soon as Natalya was back to painting, he sent a text to Shane.

Ilya: got cream on without her noticing.

Shane: Amazing work, you got this <3

He set their paintings to dry and stepped into the bathroom to take a few steadying breaths and splash some water on his face before the real struggle began.

He imagined the worst-case scenario; she would cry, she would wiggle out of his grip, run away, fight with him, and the day would end in disaster without the vaccines completed. They would have to go through it all again, and she would love him just a little less. She would feel betrayed, and Shane would have to clean up the mess after he failed.

He needed to do this, even just to prove to himself again that he’s capable. As much as he wanted to do everything with Shane, he needed to prove to himself that he could do it alone. He splashed his face one last time, staring at himself in the mirror, if Hayden Pike can be a good dad, then I can be the best Papa and do it all.

Ilya grabbed the fake grocery list that Shane made for him (they knew they’d be ordering pizza for dinner, no way was Ilya cooking after all of this), “Zakya, let’s go get groceries.”

“And we can see the ducks after?” She said, looking up at him with her giant hazel eyes, the ones that matched his nearly identically.

“We will see, let’s get the groceries done first,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t give away any uncertainty.

She got into the car without incident, buckled herself into her booster seat, and Ilya put on music, just the same as he always did. The grocery store was only five minutes away, and the doctor’s office was twenty. He’d have to manage her panic attack from the driver’s seat for fifteen minutes. He had no idea what he was going to say, or how he was going to fix this.

When they passed the grocery store entrance, it didn’t go unnoticed. The music hadn’t distracted her as much as he’d hoped it would, even with his ridiculous singing. The second they passed the sign he saw her face drop from the rearview mirror.

“Papa, you missed the grocery store,” she said, her voice already showing signs of concern. She was far too smart for her own good, maybe she doesn’t really need kindergarten? Can just go to college now, she’s smart enough, Ilya thought.

He let out a sigh of resignation. The meltdown was coming, regardless of how long he tried to put it off, maybe if she cried it out enough in the car, all the tears would be cried out by the time they reached the office.

“Zakya, you’re going to kindergarten in September, yes?” he reminded her.

“Yes?”

“And they only let big girls into kindergarten?”

He watched her nod from the rearview, her chin already quivering.

“Well, we have to have doctor sign paper that you are big enough girl to go to school.”

The sob that instantly roared through the car broke his heart in two. It didn’t matter how many times he’d heard it before, it all hurt the same. And this time he didn’t have Shane to hold his hand.

“No, Papa! You lied!” she accused.

He had. He couldn’t refute it. And he felt awful.

“I know, and I am sorry. You would not have gotten into car if I hadn’t, and we have to make sure you can go to school. You want to go to school, yes?”

“Not anymore! I want to go home!”

He consoled as much as he could, continuing to drive as much as his heart wanted to turn the car right around. He needed to do this, no matter how hard it was going to be. He tried to grab onto her foot, a simple comfort, but she instantly kicked it away.

And if that weren’t enough, she knew exactly how to drive the dagger through the last broken piece of his heart, “Daddy wouldn’t make me go, he wouldn’t have lied!”

He wouldn’t have, because he is the better parent, Ilya’s inner monologue screamed. What kind of parent was he that he needed to lie to his kids to get basic care tasks completed?

He took a deep breath, using every skill he’d learned through the years to stop the thoughts. He opposed them, telling himself Shane would have done the same thing. I am doing my best, and that is good enough. I love her and she loves me, no matter how upset she is. Stick to the plan.

“Just because Daddy isn’t here doesn’t mean would not happen. Natalya, we will see doctor, and if you do good job, we will get ice cream and new paints. And maybe see the ducks too. But you need to behave.”

His voice was flatter than it normally was, and he never used her given name. He usually gushed, speaking softly and sweetly to her when she was upset. He needed to be in control, and she needed to know that.

He wasn’t sure if she heard him, the cries continuing to fill the car, but the arguing ceased. They were two minutes from the doctor’s office, and Ilya held onto the comfort that in an hour, this would all be over.

He pulled into the closest parking spot, leaving only a short walk into the building from the car. He cut the engine, the music stopping, not like he’d been able to hear it for the last five songs. He got out of the driver’s seat, meeting her at her side of the car, opening the door.

She sat with her arms crossed, making no move to unbuckle herself.

“We have to go in now; can you come out of the car please?” he said firmly but not angrily.

“Not going,” she said angrily. The sobs may be subsiding, but the anger and defiance taking over were no easier to manage.

He noticed his feet on the ground, the wind on his skin, grounding himself like Shane taught him, “oh, I see. You are smart, yes?”

She side-eyed him, “yeah, why?”

“Ah, so you are. So, you know that staying in the car means no ducks, no new paints, and no ice cream.”

He could see her contemplating, deciding just how much she wanted ice cream this afternoon. She could live without the paints and feeding the ducks, but Ilya knew that a soft serve cone with crunch coat was like currency to his youngest.

His logic won, and though the tears ramped up, she unbuckled her seatbelt and slid out of the car. It healed his broken heart just a little when she reached for his hand to hold.

His mild harshness disappeared when he heard her tiny voice muffle out, “Papa, I’m so scared.”

Before they walked through the door, Ilya squatted down to her level. Her entire face was red, coated in tears. He pulled a tissue out of his pocket, wiping away the stray tears dripping down her chin before pulling her in tightly to him. He was scared too, but they could do it together.

“Papa will not let anything bad happen to you, yes? Can you trust me?” he whispered in her ear.

His shirt became wet with tears on his shoulder, not that he minded. She would only be little for so long, and if that meant dealing with tears and tantrums, he’d gladly deal with it over and over.

She nodded between hiccups, pulling back from his shoulder, “it’s gonna hurt, Papa. Don’t want the shots.”

“Can I tell you other lie I said today?”

She looked confused but nodded anyway.

“There was no bug bite, I put magic numbing cream on your arm so it won’t hurt as much. And I will hold you whole time, and kiss it better after.”

Ilya set a timer, promising her that by the time it went off, that they’d be done at the doctor. It was with that promise that she bravely walked through the door, hand glued to Ilya’s nonetheless, but this was the least amount of fighting that she’d ever done walking into that office.

The waiting room was bright as always; painted with different zoo animals and littered with toys. Some of the kids in the waiting room were pleasantly distracted, pushing toy cars across the floor, putting together puzzles that sat on the table. Others were anxious, just like Natalya. It helped her embarrassment, knowing that other kids were nervous too.

As they neared the reception desk, she slid further behind Ilya, tucking herself behind his leg as they walked. He spoke quietly with the receptionist, checking her in while still squeezing tightly on her hand. The kind older woman behind the desk peered over her computer, seeing the mess of curly hair peeking out from behind Ilya. She didn’t say a word, just smiling as she slid a sticker across the desk.

Ilya smiled at her as he grabbed the sticker, handing it to Natalya. It was printed with Rapunzel, her favorite Disney movie. Through the subsiding tears and sniffles he saw her smile just the tiniest bit, and agreeably walked with him to a chair on the side.

Some may say she’s getting too big to sit on her dad’s lap, but that’s exactly where she crawled up to. Ilya reveled in it, just glad that laying on his chest was still the safe space he always hoped it would be.

“Papa, don’t want to be scared, I just want to be good!” she said, brimming with frustration with herself.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, gently brushing the strands of hair behind her ear, “I know, Zakya. You are doing very good job today, will not be much longer.”

She tensed when she heard her name be called from the doorway leading to the exam rooms.  The nurse stood there patiently, watching as Ilya waved from their seat across the waiting room and attempted to untangle Natalya’s grip from his shirt.

The tears began again as they started the walk down the hall, ravaged with hiccups as she tried her hardest to hold back the tears. Only big girls went to kindergarten, and she was determined to be brave like big girls were.

They were led into a cheerfully painted room with pink accents, the countertops clear of any medical equipment, which put Ilya at ease just as much as Natalya. When faced with sitting on the cot, she could have lifted herself up, but instead she looked to Ilya. He understood, picking her up and placing her gently on the cot covered in wrinkly paper. He could have sat in a chair on the side, but he stayed standing, holding his daughter’s hand as long as he could.

The nurse made quick work of taking vitals and asking questions. She was calm, and something that seemed to put Natalya at ease was how she was asking her the questions. She didn’t ignore her because of her tears, but decidedly involved her more.

“Natalya, does Papa make you eat lots of vegetables at home?” the nurse, Katie, asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Papa doesn’t, but Daddy does. He loves them and I have to eat them with dinner,” she answered, mirroring the nurses wrinkled nose.

Her questions continued, even managing to make Natalya laugh from time to time. At the end, she confirmed answers with Ilya, making room for the doctor to come in the room.

Natalya quieted down again once the doctor came in, using all of her restraint to sit still while she examined her. Tears still slipped down her cheeks and she tightly squeezed Ilya’s hand, but she was doing it.

Tears were collecting in his own eyes, watching how brave his daughter was being. Maybe both Shane and Ilya bringing her had been overkill, maybe it was too much theater that turned the visits into a bigger deal than they needed to be.

The doctor spoke mainly with Ilya, explaining the vaccines she’d need that day and filling out the paperwork she would need for kindergarten. Ilya’s attention was split; ensuring that his Zakya was managing her nerves and that he was catching everything the doctor was saying.

Natalya sat and listened, feeling overwhelmed by the big words the doctor was speaking to her Papa with. She was confused and alone, and her bravery was waning. The nurse made her feel confident, like she was part of the plan. Now, she felt like things were being done to her rather than with her. And the fear was rushing back to her body, leaving a panicked feeling in her stomach.

As soon as the door clicked, her tears fell down her face with the intensity of a hurricane.

All of the progress they’d made vanished right in front of Ilya’s eyes. He flipped into damage control mode, determined to guide the visit back on track.

“Natashenka, what is wrong? Tell Papa,” he said, lowering himself down to her level, holding on tight to both hands.

Through racked sobs, she finally got the words out, “she said the shots are coming! I don’t want them, Papa. Please don’t make me get them!”

Ilya was at a loss and panicked, and before he could even think, his mouth started moving with words he never intended to say.

“What if I got one too? Would that help?”

Ilya hated needles as much as Natalya did. Why he offered to get one too? He had no clue, but the words were said, and she softened as soon as he said them. And once he saw her tiny nod, he knew he was screwed.

Ilya felt nervous as soon as the door clicked, thankfully the same nurse from earlier entered the room. This time, she was holding a small tray with three prefilled syringes covered with a tissue.

Before he could even speak, Natalya spoke up, “Papa said he’d get one too.”

Katie looked at him with a knowing smile, “oh yeah?”

Ilya swallowed, “yes, I think will make her feel better if I do too. Can I do that?”

Katie looked to Natalya and smiled, “I think we can arrange that, right? We don’t want Papa to get sick either.”

Before leaving the room, the nurse whispered to him, “we can do a saline injection, you’re being very brave too.”

Ilya gave her a tight-lipped smile as she walked out of the room.

“Papa, are you scared?” Natalya asked, wiping her nose with the tissue the nurse gave to her.

He could have said no. He could have reassured her that shots didn’t hurt and there was nothing to be afraid of. But he couldn’t lie to her again today.

“A little, yes. Nobody likes shots, not even grown-ups. But it’s important, so we do anyway.”

She pondered this, finally feeling like she wasn’t at the bottom of the pedestal. She wasn’t the odd one out, the only one feeling struck with fear anytime a needle was mentioned.

“So, it’s not just me?”

He softened, leaning beside her still sat on the cot, “No, definitely not. Is scary, but you’re brave. And I am here, so we will do together.”

The nurse returned with one more pre-filled syringe and a consent form, which he quickly signed before he lost his confidence.

She told him he could stay standing and lean against the cot. She gently taught Natalya about how vaccines worked and why we needed them to stay healthy, Natalya hanging on every word. The nurse slipped on a pair of gloves as Ilya rolled up his shirt sleeve, exposing his deltoid muscle.

She wiped the area clean, the scent and the cold feeling on his skin forcing his stomach to tumble. He took a deep breath, attempting to center himself and appear as unbothered as possible, regardless of the fact that his brain was spiraling.

“Papa, should I hold your hand?” she said with a soft voice.

He turned his head to face her, “well, that seems only fair,” holding out his hand for her to grasp.

The nurse and Natalya counted to three, and the stinging sensation of the needle entering his arm made his eyes bulge, but it was over just as quickly as it began. Soon enough, Natalya was picking out a bandage for him. She picked a white one with colorful sprinkles on it, “like our ice cream after!”

“Yes, like our ice cream. I did mine, now we do yours,” Ilya said, pulling himself up on the table and sliding Natalya onto his lap.

He carefully placed her into the hold, just how he and Shane practiced. It was much easier with his five-year-old than it had been with his large husband, and she easily slid into place. He didn’t need to explain why he was doing it; she just seemed to enjoy being curled up with him. Once she was in place, he could feel tears dotting his t-shirt, but no curdling sobs escaped.

As the nurse prepared the tray of vaccines, she whispered to him, “you’re an amazing dad, just so you know.”

The knot in his stomach released, knowing he’d done the right thing. It wasn’t often that he felt insecure about being a father anymore, but days like today, a reminder that he was succeeding in the only thing he cared about felt good.

Natalya hardly even noticed the vaccines, thanks to the numbing cream, and it was just as surprising to her as it was to Ilya. The nurse quickly injected the three vaccines and smoothed matching sprinkle bandages over the sites.

“Papa, that barely hurt! Are they done?” she asked with excitement.

The smile on Ilya’s face could only be described as elated. His daughter faced her fear, and came out the other side with newfound confidence, “yes, Zakya. They are all done, I think you are big enough for kindergarten now, yes?”

The moment was only broken up by the timer Ilya had set ringing from his pocket, “see? I said we’d be done once it went off!”

The nurse gave Natalya so many stickers and a lollypop for a job well done on their way out, and as they walked back to the car, Natalya suddenly had new aspirations, “Papa, I want to be a nurse like Katie when I grow up, so I can make kids feel better too.”

He smiled down at her, already knowing that she always made him feel better, “I think you will be wonderful nurse.”

Ice cream for lunch was Ilya’s favorite outing. They stopped at Dairy Queen nearest to their house, picked up their cones, and drove to the pond. Ilya’s car always had packs of crackers in the glovebox, ready for any impromptu trip to feed the ducks. The interior of his Mercedes may have a new Rapunzel sticker haphazardly placed near the doorhandle next to her seat, and her shirt may be covered in chocolate ice cream, but none of that mattered. His little girl was growing up, and was becoming braver by the day. These days would become fewer and farther between, but even through all the tears, he wouldn’t wish these days away for anything.

Shane returned home that evening with apprehension, carrying a pizza box for the family. Ilya hadn’t texted him all day, and he didn’t know if he should be expecting disaster or triumph. When he entered the house, everything seemed… normal. The living room TV was on SportsCenter, Mariya was sitting at the table doing homework with Anya laying at her feet, and Ilya and Natalya were painting at the kitchen island.

He shut the door behind him, and just like usual, Natalya came running to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, “Daddy! I got my shots and it barely even hurt! I did good!”

Relief washed over him along with pride, both for his youngest and for Ilya.

“That’s great, honey! I knew you could do it, you’re so brave,” he said, only walking away to put the pizza on the island before leaning down to give her a bear hug.

He looked down at her arm, “ooooh, sprinkle band-aids?”

“Yes, Papa got one too! He was so brave,” Natalya said, causing Shane to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, did he? Papa got a band-aid too?”

“And a shot! He showed me it wasn’t bad. I held his hand.”

The grin that spread over Shane’s face was both ridiculous and sweet. He knew extensively of his husband’s aversion to needles of any kind, with the exception of tattoo needles. He didn’t know how Ilya ended up getting a vaccine, but he did know that it was incredibly selfless of him to get one too.

“Can I see your sprinkle band-aid?” Shane asked, already moving to push up his sleeve, running his finger over the edge of the bandage.

“Was very brave boy, you have to be nice to me now,” Ilya teased, but in all reality, he was dead serious.

“I’m sure you were, baby. I think it’s time for pizza, right?”

Dinner was much more lighthearted than Shane had expected, as Natalya narrated her day at the doctor’s, finishing with how she was going to be a nurse for kids to make them feel better too. As much as it scared her, Shane knew if that’s what she wanted to do, she’d be amazing. She was thoughtful and kind in a way that would translate so easily. He knew it was likely fleeting, but if it came into fruition, he loved that he’d know exactly the moment that she’d decided it.

After bedtime for Natalya and finishing homework with Mariya, Shane and Ilya retired to bed early that night.

“You managed to do it all by yourself,” Shane praised, changing into his shorts for bed.

Ilya emerged from the bathroom, already dressed down to his boxers, still sporting the sprinkle bandage, “I did. It was questionable sometimes, but we did it. And it ended better than it ever has. Maybe she’s growing up,” Ilya said, walking over to their bed and dramatically flopping onto his back.

Shane chuckled, walking over to the bed and sliding into his side, “yes, she is. But she also had the best Papa to show her it wasn’t so scary.”

“Was still scared, don’t confuse that, but yes, showed her how to be brave.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help, but I don’t think you really needed me.”

“Is okay, I don’t think we both need to go anymore, but I still missed you,” Ilya drawled, wrapping his arms around Shane, pulling him close.

They sat for a moment, letting out every breath they held throughout the day, relaxing into their bed.

“So, since I was so brave today, what is prize?”

Shane smirked, “I have something to tell you, but I don’t think you’re going to be very happy about it.”

Ilya furrowed his eyebrows, “what is it? What do you mean?”

“Check your Google calendar.”

Ilya huffed, turned away to grab his phone from the nightstand. The room glowed with the light from his phone, and just as quickly as the room lit up, the irritation from Ilya was palpable. He propped himself up in bed, glaring over at his husband.

“Shane! What do you mean I have dentist appointment tomorrow?! Was already so brave today, no!”