Chapter Text
When Ilya got the call, he can safely say he was very surprised.
It was a number from Russia, which already set off about a million different red flags in Ilya’s brain. He showed Shane, who had been sitting right next to him in that moment, and Shane was just as confused.
He had told Ilya that he should probably just ignore it.
Ilya knew he should probably just ignore it, what good could come from a number that’s from the country that hates him now?
And, yet, he answered anyway.
He isn’t completely sure why he did or what possessed him to, but something gave him the urge to click the green accept call button.
So, he did.
”Hello?” It had been a young woman’s - maybe just a girl’s - voice on the other line, one that Ilya hadn’t recognized, and she was speaking English (though, it was with a very clear Russian accent).
“I speak Russian, you know,” Ilya responded in Russian because he knows this conversation will probably go a lot more smoothly if they both speak their first language, “who is this?”
The girl went quiet on the other side of the phone for a moment and Ilya had almost ended the call, until she cleared her throat and spoke again, still in English, “Yes, I know. I need the, uh,” She seemed to hesitate on the next word for a moment but Ilya waited for her to continue, “practice. In English.”
Right. Okay. That would be all fine and dandy, if it wasn’t for the fact that Ilya still had no idea who this girl was or why she was calling him or how she had his phone number.
“Sorry, you’re right,” She switches to Russian now, clearing her throat and chuckling awkwardly, “Now isn’t the time to be practicing a new language.”
Ilya was still beyond confused, so he decided to finally just ask, “Okay, um, who are you and why are you calling me? I don’t live in Russia and I’m pretty sure I’m not welcome back, so-”
“Katerina!” The girl on the phone had exclaimed quickly and that name had made Ilya still completely.
He remembers the way Shane had looked at him, concerned.
He remembers the way all of his words got caught in his throat, he was unable to say anything, so all he could do was listen to the girl continue to speak, “Katerina Rozanova, if you… need that clarification.”
His niece.
He had shut his eyes and taken in a deep breath, trying to figure out why on earth she could possibly be calling him, but he didn’t get any questions out, not any words, honestly, because she started to ramble a bit, “I don’t know if you even remember me, you probably don’t. Or maybe you do, you were obviously a lot older than I was the last time we saw each other. I definitely don’t really remember you but I’ve heard of you, though not much through mama or papa, more through, like, the internet and whatnot, and-”
“Of course I remember you, you’re my niece,” Ilya had to interrupt her so he could get a word in. He was still incredibly confused by why this call had been happening but now he knew that, at the very least, it wasn’t just a weirdo from Russia trying to get in contact with him to hate crime him or something, “I’m surprised you even know who I am. I was expecting my brother to be too embarrassed of me to bring me up.”
“Yeah, uh,” She paused nervously before continuing on, “Papa doesn’t really talk about you at all to me but I’ve overheard him talking to people. Mama, his friends, some coworkers sometimes, and… I don’t know, I just- I’m sorry about him, I know he’s-”
“Oh, Katerina,” Ilya hadn’t had the heart to let her go on. He didn’t know the girl, not really, but, still, he felt a sense of love and care for her, “You do not have to apologize for your father. Not to me. That’s not your responsibility.”
“I know that, I just feel bad. He hasn’t treated you well from what I’ve heard and I know I probably don’t know the half of it but-”
“Please,” Ilya smiled into the phone; he appreciated her thought and care, but he didn’t need it. He was already so overwhelmed by emotion, relieved that this girl has turned out to be a functioning human being - at least from what Ilya could tell in the few minutes he had been speaking to her - while also having Alexei as a father, “I made my peace with all of that a very long time ago and you do not have to carry that burden. Anyway, was that why you called?”
“Oh! Yes, kind of, part of it,” Ilya was able to hear her nerves through the phone, “I just turned 18. Two days ago. So, obviously you know I got access to the trust. Papa had told me he was the one to make it for me and, for years, I believed him, right? But on my birthday, my mama sat me down and told me the whole truth about everything and told me you were the one to make it for me and-” She cut herself off and Ilya could hear the shaking of her head against the phone, “Sorry, I’m rambling. The reason I called you was, one, to say thank you-”
-“You don’t need to thank me-”
“And, two, to ask a favor.”
And that had intrigued Ilya greatly because what could she possibly need from him?
For a moment he had gotten flashbacks to phone calls of his brother asking for- demanding money from him, claiming he has to send it right away. But he quickly shook those thoughts away, he couldn’t have those old memories tainting his present.
“What kind of favor?”
“You can obviously say no, I know it’s a lot to ask, and-”
“Katerina,” Ilya had interrupted her, realizing this girl is a very anxious bundle of nerves, apparently, “you can just ask me.”
“I wanna come to Canada,” She had announced in a rush of words and it caught Ilya off guard that he didn’t respond, giving her more time to keep speaking, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was wondering if I could come to Canada and stay with you. At least for the summer, then maybe I’ll go to university out there, just- I need to get out of here.”
That left Ilya completely dumbfounded, staring at a wall as his mouth gaped open, “I, uh- Katerina, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You don’t know me, your father doesn’t like-”
“I don’t care what he thinks, Uncle.”
That stopped Ilya in his tracks, just hearing that word coming from her mouth is something he’s never experienced before.
Of course, he’s been called Uncle before. The Pike kids are his nieces and nephews, that’s indisputable. The kids from his teammates on the Centaurs’ have called him Uncle, of course.
But he’s never heard it in Russian.
He’s never heard it from Katerina.
She was too young to really talk much the last time he had seen her, held her, smiled at her. Yet, she said the word so easily. It pulled at Ilya’s heart strings a little bit in ways that he didn’t know they could be pulled.
“I’m mad with him and I need time away from him. Mama suggested Canada, with you, and-”
“I-” Ilya was at a complete loss for words, which isn’t like him. He always has something to say but in that moment, in that conversation, he had been at a complete loss.
“You can say no and I’ll probably end up studying elsewhere and just staying here for the summer, I just figured you’d be a good first option. I thought we could maybe get to know each other and… I don’t know? Be a family? Is that stupid? Since it’s been 17 years?”
“It’s not stupid,” Was the only thing Ilya could say at first but he had to jump into action and say proper sentences sooner rather than later, “I’d need to talk to my- wait, you know I’m-”
Katerina had cut him off there, “Yeah, I know you’re married to Shane Hollander. I’m pretty sure everyone knows that.”
“You know your father hates it, right? Russia hates it. Are you-”
“Yes, I know all about how much this country and my papa hates it. I kinda grew up here, you know.”
Ilya had actually been able to laugh at that, then he continued on, he had been trying to keep this conversation on one steady track, which had been very difficult because his mind was running wild with thoughts, “Well, I’d have to talk to Shane about this before anything,” He said and he remembers feeling the gaze of Shane on him as he was following along the conversation, “um, are you sure you want to come here? You can go anywhere you want.”
“Calling you about this has felt like the only right thing I’ve done in the last week. So, yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay,” Ilya nodded into the phone, not that Katerina could see it, “alright. I’ll talk to Shane and I’ll call you back, okay, and- Wait, how’d you get my number anyway?”
He’s definitely changed it since the last one that his brother had for him.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, “My mama gave it to me. She said she called someone who gave it to her, I don’t know who though.”
Definitely Svetlana.
Ilya pieced that one together immediately.
“Okay, alright. I’ll talk to Shane.”
“Thank you. And not just for this but for the trust too, you really didn’t have to and-”
“Yes I did,” Ilya responded to that simply, immediately.
They had hung up the phone shortly after that and Ilya had immediately set it down on the nearest table, staring at his husband as he mumbled, and he had switched to English, even though he doesn’t really have to anymore nowadays, because Shane’s practically fluent in Russian, “So, that was my niece.”
“I heard,” Shane nodded, taking a few steps forward until he was right in front of Ilya, connecting their hands, “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am,” Ilya squeezed Shane’s hands, “She said she wants to come here. To stay with us. For summer, at least, maybe longer.”
Shane’s eyes moved quickly, scanning every inch of Ilya’s face and Ilya could feel it - the gaze and the emotion, carefully examining before asking, “Do you want that?”
“I-” Ilya cleared his throat, “It is up to you, Shane. I would love to have her here, to get to know her, but it is up to you. This is our home and it is our life and I-”
“I know, Ilya,” Shane’s voice was so soft that Ilya genuinely felt like he could melt in it, “but I’d love to have her here, too, if that’s what you want.”
Which is exactly why they’re currently parked in an airport parking lot, a week after that phone call took place, waiting for Katerina, whose plane just landed.