Who: Anatoly and Svetlana Sergievsky plus NPC!children What: Clearly watching PBS while sick is a good plan. What could possibly go wrong? It's not like they showed that one musical on it or something... When: Tonight Where: Svetlana's apartment. Rating: Low Warnings: Angst, good god, the angst. The Russian angst will eat you all.
There were times when Svetlana forgot to take care of herself. Mostly when she was overwhelmed, which meant the past year. There was so much she had to do, protect the girls, deal with the hostility of the neighbors. And then she went to Bangkok and now her entire family was in Lawrence, Kansas in the future. So needless to say, the well composed ice queen was indeed overwhelmed. She had been noticing for the past week that she had been feeling under the weather. A cough that had been lingering. Dizzy spells when she stood up. Feeling overheated and chills all at once. Headaches. But she pushed it off as stress. Because who wouldn’t be stressed in this situation?
Of course, it wasn’t like this was healthy. In fact, it was far from it. After a week of not being able to sleep much or eat much, Svetlana was in the kitchen making dinner for the girls. Well, she had been making dinner for the girls. Feeling a coughing attack hit, the blond woman moved from the stove and turned her head, coughing violently into her arm. She thought it was a normal coughing attack but it kept going and Svetlana found herself unable to breathe. Gasping for breath, the Russian woman blinked back the black spots and blurring vision before her legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground.
Fayina gasped in shock and looked to her younger sister.
“Stay here, I’m getting daddy!” With that, the seven year old ran out of the apartment as her sister went to the computer to get information on how to help.
At seven years old, Fayina wasn’t exactly tall, but she was determined. Which meant that once she got to the door she wanted, she pounded on the door frantically. Because mommy didn’t fall down. Something was obviously wrong and only Anatoly could fix it. Because Anatoly was daddy and daddies fixed things like this.
The past couple weeks had been quite event-filled, to say the least. In most ways, Anatoly was still adjusting to the fact the KGB wasn’t here and neither was Molokov. Well, Svetlana kept swearing up and down she had seen Molokov, but now he was fairly certain something supernatural was going on because he hadn’t seen the man anywhere. Even when Svetlana had pointed him out. Of course, he was just taking it in stride until he figured out what was really going on so he could fix it.
At the moment, he was just sitting and relaxing, trying not to do too much with his shoulder still healing. He was watching television, something he found both incredibly shocking and oddly addicting. Modern Americans had drastically different ideas of what passed for entertainment. Even the so-called “children’s programming” wasn’t exactly something he’d let his girls watch. Well, most of it. He and Svetlana had let the girls watch a couple shows, but that was it. They also tried to keep the computers away from them, if only because it was so easy to pull up non-child-friendly things on the internet.
Then came the frantic knocking. Of course, knocking of that tempo could only come from a very frightened Svetlana or one of his girls. He got up and quickly moved over to the door, opening it. When he saw Fayina there, terror started gripping him. Something was very wrong with either Svetlana or Jelena. Though since Fayina was here, it was undoubtedly Svetlana that something had happened to. Otherwise Svetlana would’ve been at his door.
“What’s wrong, Fayina?” He asked, concern evident in his eyes and terror gripping his heart. Because, of course, he was scared something really bad had happened.
And he should be scared, or so thought Fayina. Because he needed to be worried about Svetlana if he ever wanted to win her back. Oh, Fayina didn’t know the details, but she knew that something had happened between her parents. Because when Svetlana would tell her stories in the past about her daddy, she got this sad wistful look on her face. But he was there now, so that had to mean something. He was around and not playing chess. And while Svetlana was still closed off, sometimes Fayina caught a look in her mother’s eyes, something that sparked hope that her parents would start living together.
Right now, though? Fayina was worried. Because Svetlana always held herself so strong and never wavered. Even when she came home hurt. She never fell down like this. She didn’t cough like that.
“Mommy fell down and isn’t waking up!”
Fayina didn’t know what it meant, but she knew it wasn’t good. As such, the seven year old grabbed her father’s hand and started to tug him towards the apartment the Sergievsky blonds resided in.
“You need to fix it!”
It really was amazing how so few words could enduce heart attack-like symptoms. But there it was. Anatoly felt his heart do incredibly strange things in his chest that couldn’t possibly be healthy. He took a few slow, deep breaths in the hopes that it helped. Which it didn’t.
“What?!” And before any more time could elapse, Anatoly bent down, scooped his daughter up in his arms, closed the door of his apartment, then ran two doors down the hall and into Svetlana’s apartment. Once inside, he set Fayina down and rushed to where Svetlana was. “Svetlana!” He knelt by her side and, as a reflex, checked for a pulse. She had one. That was good. Very good. She was alive. He took another deep breath and then felt Svetlana’s forehead, which was burning to the touch. Deducing that she wasn’t injured horrendously, Anatoly gently picked her up in his arms, pulling her into a more upright position.
And another deep breath.
“Svetlana, can you hear me?” Because clearly talking to an unconscious woman was the way to get answers.
Fayina stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching. Anatoly had to wake up her mother. He just had to! Because Fayina was scared. Jelena seemed focused on her ‘research’, whatever that might be. All either girl knew was that when Svetlana needed answers, she went to the computer, thus, that was what the five year old was up to. As for the seven year old, she was ringing her hands together and biting on her lip.
But before she could ask if Svetlana was dead, she heard a small whimper from her mother and her eyes widened. She was alive!
Svetlana herself was out of sorts. She could hear what sounded like voices around her, but it was so distant and distorted. She couldn’t exactly make out the words. Just that they were trying to reach her. But she wanted to stay in the safety of the darkness. She was so tired and weak. She just wanted to rest but that apparently wasn’t in her cards. So whimpering, the blond woman coughed violently as she shifted some, vaguely aware that she was being held.
Still out of it, she shifted closer to the form holding her, shivering as chills ran down her spine all the while her body feeling as though it were on fire. But she forced herself to come to, pulling away slightly and trying to get her vision to focus.
“Toly....?” Her voice was weak, both from the coughing attacks and the fact that she’d been unconscious. But she at least recognized her husband, even if she had slipped and called him Toly instead of Anatoly.
Oh thank God, Svetlana was coming to. This was good because Anatoly wasn’t exactly sure how he’d try to wake her up otherwise. He’d probably have to call an ambulance otherwise, and he didn’t exactly want to do that just now. So Svetlana waking up on her own was a good thing. He felt the shiver run through her and he frowned a bit, not liking this at all.
“Yes, I’m here,” he replied as he held her close. “It’ll be all right.” It was obvious she was ill, and he’d have to make sure she got the proper rest and medication. He looked up at Fayina. “Would you get some water for your mother, please?” He then turned his attention back to Svetlana. “Are you feeling faint, still?” He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself down. She wasn’t dead, but he was still afraid she was dying. But he couldn’t freak out, that would only frighten the girls more and Svetlana would probably smack him and scold him.
So he remained calm, or at least as calm as he could be. First he’d see if she could drink some water, then he’d move her to the couch. Then would come the part where he played nurse and took her temperature and so forth. Oh he would be thorough because that was his nature, and this was Svetlana, the woman he loved, the mother of his children. They all needed her.
Nodding as she was very determined to help, Fayina went to the dining room and got a chair so she could reach the cabinet with the cups in it so that she could fill a cup with water. After all, it wasn’t like she could just reach that high up without help and Anatoly was busy tending to Svetlana, which meant she had to improvise.
As for Svetlana, she just rolled her eyes at her husband. Mostly because she had this voice in her head nagging at her that he didn’t really care. She didn’t know why he was acting it, most likely for the girls, but still, he didn’t care. And he was being ridiculous. She was quite obviously the epitome of health. So what if she was freezing and burning up all at once? If her coughing attacks were worse than they had been a week ago?
“I’m fine, Anatoly...” Pesky men. Couldn’t he see she was fine? Okay, completely pale and eyes glassy and she did then have to turn her head to cough. But she was fine. Gasping for breath, Svetlana slumped against Anatoly, resting her forehead on his shoulder.
“Just...” And yet another coughing attack. Gasping for breath once again, Svetlana struggled to stay conscious. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, the Russian woman looked up from Anatoly’s shoulder and smiled weakly at Fayina as her daughter handed her the cup.
“Thank you..” Taking the cup, Svetlana tried to straightened up and took a sip of water, wincing in pain. It felt like her throat were trying to close in on itself. And she could barely drink it without coughing. That, probably wasn’t good.
And of course Svetlana tried to say she was fine when there was nearly insurmountable evidence to the contrary. It was just like her to say she was fine. But surely sooner rather than later she’d have to relent that she wasn’t, in fact, fine. She was burning up. She’d fainted. Those were not symptoms healthy people typically had. Unless they were just really, really strange normal people.
“I don’t think you’re fine. You’re burning up, and you passed out. Not things healthy people typically do.” Because stating the obvious was something Anatoly did. Even when he wasn’t internally freaking out, he had a perfectly awkward knack for stating the obvious. Well, at least when he was around Svetlana and his mind wasn’t solely focused on chess.
When Svetlana tried to straighten up to drink the water, Anatoly helped her, holding her more upright. He looked at Fayina, giving her a thankful smile. “Thank you, princess. Are you able to get the thermometer? I think we should take mommy’s temperature.” Because obviously in knowing one’s exact temperature, it helped diagnose what was wrong. Or something.
Hearing Anatoly claim that she was indeed not fine, Svetlana just shot him an annoyed look. What did he know? It wasn’t like he had been around much the past five years. Okay. So what if he had a very valid point of her having a fever and passing out. Not to mention the painful cough and sore throat that felt like her throat was trying to kill itself. She didn’t need his help. She was fine. She’d get over it. But Fayina had already decided to listen to her father and had run off to the bathroom to get the thermometer.
“I still think you’re over reacting...”
True, Svetlana would have panicked had any of her family passed out, but Anatoly didn’t have emotions anymore. Thus. Over reaction.
And then, Jelena made her grand entrance into the situation. Jumping off of the chair, she ran into the kitchen, a very serious look on the five year old’s face.
“It’s okay, I’ve got this!”
With that, Jelena climbed onto the chair Fayina had gotten and filled a bowl with ice water before walking over to her confused mother and dumping it on her, earning a yelp from the sick woman in response.
“Now you won’t be so hot to touch! It helped, right?”
Svetlana, who now felt like a drowned miserable rat just sighed. Jelena meant well.... But getting dumped with ice water wasn’t exactly helpful. And right then Fayina came in.
“Why is mommy wet?”
“I helped!”
“Okay! Here’s the thermometer!” Handing the thermometer to Svetlana, Fayina stood back with Jelena, watching anxiously as their mother took her temperature, convinced she would be better once she knew the answer. Because 104 was a good number, right?
True, Anatoly hadn’t been around and he had been a robot, but the truth of the matter was that the robot was starting to have feelings again. The longer he was here and around his family and away from Molokov, the more he started reverting back to how he’d once been. But, of course, it was still a slow transition. But it was happening.
If he’d been a mind-reader and not so focused on figuring out what exactly was wrong with Svetlana, he might have tried to stop Jelena from her course of action. And due to being in close proximity to Svetlana, he also got a bit wet, but not as much as Svetlana was. He blinked a bit, startled by his daughter’s action, then he looked at her. “Jelena, would you get a towel for your mother?” Because now Svetlana needed to be dried off before she got sicker than she all ready was. “And a blanket.” Because despite the horrendously high fever, Svetlana needed to not catch a chill. Because obviously she would die if she did. And Anatoly refused to let that happen. Ever.
“104? Oh that is not good.” Again, stating the obvious. Because he’s a master of that. Now came the part of determining what exactly she was sick with. It was obviously more than a cold. Perhaps the flu? “Perhaps a doctor should see you. With a fever that high, you need some sort of medical attention.”
Jelena pouted at Anatoly when he told her to get a towel and blanket.
“But that will make her not cool down!” Then Fayina shot her a look and the five year old just nodded and ran to get what she was told. It was the look of, do what he says or he might go away again. And the two didn’t want that. They wanted him there with them. And they knew that Svetlana needed him... even if she said she was fine on her own. No. Jelena didn’t want her mommy to be sad. So it was going to get what she was told.
As for Svetlana, the blond was shivering from the ice water but blinked when Anatoly stated the reading from the thermometer. Well, that was not what she had been expecting. She had thought it was nothing more than a stubborn cold, but if she had a fever that high... Maybe something was wrong. Still, she didn’t like the idea of going to a doctor here...
“Maybe... I’ll keep an eye on it...”
Which meant Svetlana probably wouldn’t seek medical attention. Not unless it were absolutely necessary. Which it probably was but the blond would fight it for now. And then Jelena came back and wordlessly handed the towel and blanket to her father. Which concerned Svetlana. Something was troubling her daughter and she wanted to help but Jelena wasn’t meeting her eye.
What was going on?
Though another coughing attack hit, causing Svetlana to bow her head and tremble from the sheer force. Still. All she needed was rest... that had to be it.
Anatoly took the towel and blanket when Jelena brought them back. He set the blanket aside for the moment and unfolded the towel. He calmly and patiently waited for Svetlna’s coughing attack to subside, then he started drying her off. Because he was convinced if she wasn’t dry she would catch some horrendous bug and cough herself to death. Which would not be a good thing for anyone.
Of course he knew that Svetlana wouldn’t seek medical attention unless she was on death’s doorstep. And even then, she’d probably only do it if she was taken to the doctor by someone else. She was stubborn in these things, and Anatoly would probably better luck if he got the resident doctor to come up to look at her than waiting for her to go to the doctor on her own.
“Do you have any medication? Anything that could help lower your fever a little? The fever should get taken care of before it gets any higher.” Because normally people with high fevers like that would end up in the hospital, and Anatoly would probably rush her to one if her fever went even a tenth of a degree higher than it currently was. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t know what to give her aside from something to take the fever down. This wasn’t a cold, and it probably wasn’t even the flu. Poison maybe? It could account for the fever, but the coughing was another matter. Dear lord, if it was poison, he needed to get her a doctor now.
Svetlana was currently more concerned about Jelena’s mood to think about things like bringing down her fever. Which was why Anatoly being there was probably a good thing. Because someone needed to keep her focused on such things. But right now?
“Let’s get you two to bed....” Noticing Jelena about to protest before Fayina shot her another look, Svetlana blinked. What were those two up to? Right. Bed. Forcing herself to stand, Svetlana swayed, her vision blurring again. Okay, not one of her brightest ideas but she had her pride. It was shattered thanks to Anatoly and the past year... but she still had it.
“You need to take medicine. Daddy said so.”
Hearing Fayina, Svetlana gave a small nod.
“I will once I put you two to bed.” Seeming to satisfy her eldest daughter, the blond managed to take both girls’ hands and led them to their room, getting them ready for bed. Once she was certain they were going to stay put, Svetlana first moved to her room to put on pajamas and thus, dry clothes, picking pajama bottoms and a tank top before she moved to the bathroom and got some ibuprofen. It should help with the fever.
Struggling for breath, Svetlana coughed violently before blinking. Blood. Okay. That..was not good. Though it was probably from bursting a blood vessel in her throat. That had to be it. Making sure that she washed her hands as there was no need to worry Anatoly more as it might break him, showing emotion and all, Svetlana returned to the main room, legs giving out as she got to the couch. Okay. That worked.
“I took ibuprofen. I’ll be fine.”
That was her story and she was sticking to it.
When Svetlana made the comment about putting the girls to bed, all Anatoly could do was be shocked. Because clearly a woman as ill as Svetlana should rest and not go around exerting herself. If his instincts on taking care of Svetlana hadn’t kicked in before, they did now. Because that’s what he did when he was still human, before Molokov had twisted him into something reminiscent of an android. For a moment, he just watched as Svetlana walked the girls to their room and put them to bed. While she was gone, he stood up and set the towel aside. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Svetlana was walking, that meant she wasn’t on death’s doorstep. Well, at least not at this moment.
Though that thought dissipated when she collapsed on the couch. But she’d taken ibuprofen and changed clothes. Both were good. He took a step towards the couch, wanting to help her, though he wasn’t sure if she’d make him go away or not. “Good, hopefully the ibuprofen will help.” At least he was clueless about the blood or he’d have thrown her over his shoulder and ran her to the nearest hospital himself right then and there. “Do you need or want anything right now? Tea? Blanket?” Because he was going to take care of her damn it, regardless of what story she stuck to!
And Anatoly was doing his mother hen impression. The first time he had done it had been when she had been attacked back in Moscow. Then when she had gotten sick. He did it a lot, but stopped five years ago. So seeing him in this mode again was just, very strange. Maybe she was dreaming it. Maybe this wasn’t happening. Maybe it was a fever dream.
“I’m fine... thank you...”
It probably didn’t help her case of being fine that the woman was shivering despite the flush to her cheeks and the fact she obviously had a very bad fever. Still, she curled up on the couch, content to just...stay there and sleep. She hoped Anatoly would leave, but given what mood he was in, she doubted he would. And while it would be nice to have him there, Svetlana couldn’t admit that. She couldn’t admit that she missed him... that she needed the help.
Still, it wasn’t like Anatoly actually cared. He was probably just doing this because the girls got him. No other reason. Maybe he was trying to find a way to poison her so he could run off with Florence. No. Anatoly wouldn’t do that.. would he? It was the fever talking. It had to be.
But of course he didn’t believe she was fine. She wasn’t fine at all. He decided against making tea right then, resolving to make it later. But what he did decide to do was wrap a blanket around her and sit down with her. Anatoly wasn’t going to leave when she was ill and clearly needed someone to help her. Or at the very least remind her that she needed to be taken care of and she couldn’t go around doing everything while she was sick.
Picking up the blanket, he unfolded it, then wrapped it around Svetlana’s shivering form. He then sat down beside her, his eyes on her. “Perhaps we could turn the television on and see if there’s anything interesting to watch.” Because clearly watching TV was all that could be done when one was sick. And at that moment in time, he was thinking there was a documentary on they could watch. Something about science or history. Or perhaps they could find a decent movie to watch. Maybe he’d turn on the channel that played all the old black and white movies. Those were usually better than any of the modern ones. The modern ones had too much...sex and skin in them. Before Svetlana could give an answer, he grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels for something to watch.
Not only was Anatoly in mother hen mode, but apparently he was also in stubborn and not listening mode. Which meant that he was going to stay. Svetlana didn’t know what to think of that. Though she would deny that she couldn’t take care of everything while sick. She had before, then again, she didn’t know if she’d been this sick during his five year absence. Mostly because she never bothered to check. There were children to look after, jobs to go to. And when he was home, it never felt like he was. Yes, he’d been around more in the past few weeks than he had in five years. And it was confusing. Usually it was just to play with the girls, but there were times, when both of them were healing from the incident in the alley, where they would do this. Watch television, comment on the lack of morals and disgusting display of human behavior.
Sighing in defeat as Anatoly wrapped the blanket around her and sat down, Svetlana shifted, holding the blanket close before leaning against her husband, mask firmly in place. She didn’’t know why she was doing this. Though it was probably because she was sick. Seeking comfort from the misery her body was putting her through. It was the only thing that made sense. It certainly wasn’t because she was beginning to trust Anatoly again. That was just crazy talk.
Still, she made no real comment on what to watch. Most things were trash, though she did find that PBS had some pretty good broadcasting. Educational, operas, Shakespeare, concerts, that sort of thing. She just couldn’t remember what channel it was on. Besides there might be a history documentary on that could be interesting. But as they passed by PBS, Svetlana heard a familiar word. Chess. Well, that would seal it. Anatoly would choose whatever was on about chess. Well, it wasn’t like she was planning to pay too much attention. It was mostly just to be mindless noise that would hopefully put her to sleep. That was the hope, at least.
When Svetlana admitted defeat with her sigh, Anatoly relaxed that he wouldn’t be thrown out the door. He well knew Svetlana could be testy when she was sick, and given how high her temperature was who knew just how testy she would get? And of course, this only caused him to further settle into his mother hen mode. As she leaned against him, he thought about wrapping an arm around her shoulders, but he thought that might too much too soon. Oh he wasn’t an idiot, he well knew he a lot to make up for. But he would do his best to make it up, or die trying. Which was an ultimatum he probably shouldn’t make in a world like this where they could very well get killed if they weren’t careful, but there it was.
As he flipped through the channels, he passed PBS but also heard something about chess. Wondering what that was about, he flipped back to that channel, thinking there would be a program about a chess tournament or something. But what the presenter was talking about didn’t sound like a tournament, it sounded like a movie or a performance or something. His curiosity, while initially grabbed by the word chess, was kept by wondering just what the heck this actually was.
Just as Svetlana had expected. Anatoly was distracted by something on chess. She really shouldn’t be upset about it. Chess had been theirs. At least until Molokov had shown up. And then Florence. But chess was all Anatoly seemed to care about now and so, of course he would be interested by it. Still, background noise. That was all. Or, that was Svetlana’s thought until they brought the cast on stage. But. That was impossible. They looked like them. Anatoly, Florence, Freddie...Molokov.... Seeing the man on her screen, Svetlana tensed against her husband. Why was he there? Why did they say his name was something else? Why did they say all of their names was something else?
She should tell Anatoly to change the channel. No good could come from watching this, whatever this was. But the masochistic part of her decided to watch. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Just because these people looked like them, in something about chess, surely it wasn’t what happened in Merano and Bangkok. But then, it was. The names. The location.
Again, Svetlana should tell Anatoly to change the channel. But now, she wanted to know if maybe she could understand what had happened. Understand why her husband had done as he had. Maybe seeing it on screen, and apparently done in song, would make it all make sense. Because for the life of her, Svetlana couldn’t understand, no matter how hard she tried. So she watched, her face unreadable. Well, okay, to anyone but Anatoly it would be unreadable, but that was irrelevant. Because for the first half, she was mostly okay. She might even feel bad for Florence. She did, about her father. And that Freddie was a jerk. But to see her go from ‘I love you very much’ to leaving (which okay, made sense and people could fall out of love) to ‘I love him too much’ in what could only be described as a week? That didn’t make sense. It made her think that Florence might have codependency issues. Up until the Mountain Duet, she was fine, even slightly amused by The Arbiter’s song. The dancing was certainly something else. But then, she began to grow tense. Seeing the beginning. And then Heaven Help My Heart as Anatoly went to defect. Hearing words she herself felt in regards to her husband, how he could just turn around a word, a smile or a touch and her entire existence lit up. She just could not understand how someone could fall in love so fast. Nor understand why they would want to be the only thing on someone’s mind. Didn’t she know that she would never be the only thing on his mind?
But no. It was the second act that got to Svetlana. Bangkok. Oh, One Night in Bangkok was amusing. Might even be hilarious if she weren’t already upset thanks to Heaven Help My Heart, and then seeing Anatoly saying he didn’t leave anything as he was leaving his home and family. But it went downhill from there. Seeing a love duet between her husband and his lover, her being referred to as nothing more than an opponent, a problem. Seeing her inner most thoughts played out in song when she was such a private person. To see a video she and the girls had made for Anatoly’s birthday one year while he was at a tournament away from home. Not understanding why he seemed so upset whenever she was mentioned. Wanting to yell at Florence that she didn’t know Anatoly as well as she claimed because he was such a hard man to get to know and you don’t suddenly know someone ‘so well’ after only a year. Seeing him win. Seeing him claim it was to help a man he didn’t even know.... And then, the reprise of the love duet. The words ‘hold me and tell me we’ll meet again’. It was too much. By that point, Svetlana had stopped leaning on Anatoly for support and comfort. She was sitting upright, rigid. And now? Now she was standing up despite her weak state, the blanket falling to the ground as she looked at her husband.
“Well. It seems that you two have gotten to see one another again. And isn’t it just great, you have the girls here now as well so you two can just take them from me and be happy.” Shaking her head as she managed to keep the tears at bay, Svetlana just looked at him, “Why bother saving me if that’s all you plan to do? Why not just let me die? It would have been easier for you...” Closing her eyes, Svetlana struggled to catch her breath, calm down before looking at Anatoly, “I hope you two are very happy together. It’s clear to see where I rank.”
With that, the sick woman made her way to her room, oblivious that Jelena had seen her crying. All she knew was she needed to hide in her room. To pace and cry. Anatoly wouldn’t care. He obviously didn’t. It was all a ruse, just like she had thought.
Jelena, though? She was confused. And worried. Because in all of her five years, she had never seen her mother look so upset, never seen her cry. All she had wanted was some water but now? She wanted to know what was wrong. But Svetlana would never tell her, so the five year old went to where Anatoly was, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she looked at him.
“Why is mommy crying?”
In retrospect, Anatoly should’ve just kept flipping through the channels until he got to the History channel, or even Discovery. But for some reason he found himself wanting to watch whatever this was about chess. Then came the actors, playing out their lives in song. At first, Anatoly just thought it was strange, that something couldn’t possibly get their lives right. But he was so very wrong. Sure there might have been a minor detail here and there that weren’t exactly as he remembered, but the larger picture was, in fact, the very same. Even as the first act carried on, he had thoughts of changing the channel, but he couldn’t. Part of him was captivated by seeing his own life played out in front of him.
And in seeing it did he finally just how much he’d ruined, how badly he’d screwed up. He saw how he came off on screen, and he knew that was the truth. He’d turned into a cold machine, one that only cared about winning and damn everyone else. Yet at the climax of the second act, he did the only thing he thought he could to keep his family safe. But what family did he have left, really? Sure the girls wanted him around, his absence could be made up for because he knew Svetlana would never tell them exactly where he had been and what he had been doing. But Svetlana was a completely different story. Anatoly knew better than to think he deserved forgiveness. He had destroyed the one thing that he’d wanted above all else, and he knew Svetlana all too well, and to win her back would be the equivalent of Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a hill for all eternity.
When Svetlana got up and spoke, he looked up at her, knowing it was the very least that he deserved. The truth was, he’d been avoiding Florence since discovering she was here. It was incredibly awkward, and yet he knew she wouldn’t understand. Even though he wanted to protest Svetlana thinking he’d take the girls from her, it gave him a clue as to her state of mind. Yes she was sick, but being sick did have a tendency to make people let go of their control and tell people how they actually felt. So, when Svetlana left, he was just getting up to go after her, to try and say something because he still cared, and he wanted his family back. But Jelena stopped him.
Taking a deep breath to keep himself centered and calm, he flipped the TV off and looked at his youngest daughter. “Daddy hasn’t been a good knight in shining armor. Mommy is upset with him, but I’m going to do my best to make it better.” And that was the truth. Anatoly had always hated seeing Svetlana like this, and this time it hurt to know he was the cause of it. He stood up, then scooped Jelena up in his arms and held her. “Daddy’s here now, and I’m going to make sure mommy’s all right.” He gently kissed Jelena’s cheek, gently rocking back and forth as parents did when holding a child.
Wrapping her arms around Anatoly’s shoulders, Jelena nodded and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Good. Because she looks sad when she talks about your story.” Being five years old tended to make a child blunt, and Jelena was no exception. “I don’t like it.” Because what child liked seeing their parents sad? Especially one who never wavered in her strength. And seeing it was terrifying. Oh, Jelena was adjusting to being in a strange country and learning a new language. But if something happened to Svetlana....
“Will you live with us again? We miss you.” Because obviously that was also important. Jelena wanted her family back together. And while Anatoly said it wasn’t anything she or Fayina had done, the little blond girl still worried.
Svetlana didn’t know what was going on in the other room. She was thankful that Anatoly hadn’t followed her. She was managing to keep from sobbing out loud, but the fact remained that her entire body was shaking from the silent sobs, gasping for breath and coughing as she paced back and forth. It hurt. She was dizzy and should stop, but she didn’t care. She needed to move and as she couldn’t exactly storm out of the complex in this condition (for even though she was hurting and stubborn, she did realize that having a fever of 104 was bad, though the stress and heartache was probably making it worse) she was left to her own devices in her room.
“I don’t like it either.” He gently rubbed Jelena’s back and rocked her gently as parents did when they tried to put their children to sleep or calm them down. And he was speaking the truth. He didn’t like seeing Svetlana like this. This time, he was the one at fault, he knew that better than anyone. What was surprising was just how he’d let things get to this point, how much he’d changed after meeting Molokov. Anatoly was no fool, he knew there probably wasn’t anything he could do in a thousand lifetimes to make up for what he’d done. Having seen his life played out on screen in front of him showed him how he’d really been. It had been one thing to live it, it was quite another to see it from an outside point of view. Knowing he should really go after Svetlana before any more time passed, Anatoly carried Jelena back to her room.
“I would like to live with you again, but I need to have a talk with your mother before that can happen. And it will be her decision whether I can or not.” Which was about as simple as he could put it for a five year old. There were things she didn’t need to know, and he would be sure she only knew what she needed to. He carried her back to the bed, tucking her in and giving her a goodnight kiss to the forehead. “Sleep now, darling.” He remained long enough to make sure both girls were soundly asleep. He then slipped out of the room quietly, closing the door, then he walked over to Svetlana’s room, taking a breath and centering himself before entering the room. Because he did fear what would come next, and with good reason. But he knew whatever she had to throw at him, he deserved it. Anatoly saw her pacing, and as he still could read her body language easily, he knew this was her distress signal. Or perhaps this was the red alert. Either way, this was a very bad sign and he needed to get her to calm down, especially with being sick.
“Svetlana, calm down.” Because clearly that would calm someone down immediately. But he walked over to her and set his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop with the pacing. “Pacing will only make it worse.” Which could be taken in many ways, really. Anatoly was a master of words.
Jelena took what Anatoly said deeply. So the answer was with Svetlana. Well, clearly that would be easy to convince her mother to do, let Anatoly live with them again. She knew that her mother missed her father. She saw it in her eyes when she thought no one was looking. The pain of him not being around, when he would leave. The fear. How sad she got when she talked of their story. Something happened but if it was up to Svetlana, it should be easy to make it happen again. Still, she was tired and so once she was back in bed, she started to fall asleep again, oblivious to when Anatoly left.
Svetlana herself was oblivious to when her husband entered her room, too busy with her current panic and heart break to really pay attention to the door opening and closing. If she were in her right mind, she would have been more alert, what with Molokov being there, but right now? She was too upset. She kept seeing Anatoly and Florence together. Hearing their words. Or, songs, really. Each time it was a knife in her heart, twisting violently and breaking her all the more. But then she heard Anatoly’s voice and, even though she wouldn’t be able to hide the fact she’d been crying, she did pause long enough to shoot a glare at Anatoly for telling her to calm down before she went back to her pacing.
Or, she was until she felt his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to a stop. She tried to move past him, but Anatoly seemed determined to keep the blond in place, which caused her to glare up at her husband. Oh, they looked close to height in the concert they had showed of their lives, but the fact remained that Anatoly was six inches taller than Svetlana when she didn’t have heels on, which she clearly didn’t in this moment. But it had been a long time since she had been this vulnerable in front of him in physical stature. Where she wasn’t poised and collected. Yes, there had been the late night chess game and the random kiss that had come from it, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t momentarily thrown by the height difference between Anatoly and herself. It was hard to remember such things when one rarely saw their husband in five years and never this close when not properly dressed. But his words jarred her from her mental musings on height.
“Will only make what worse? What? It might make you bother to have a moment of feeling when you declare that you aren’t playing the game anymore? That you’re leaving? Again!?” Even though she was upset, Svetlana didn’t raise her voice so as not to wake the girls. Instead, her voice seemed to take on a low growl of heartache and pain, her entire body burning to the touch and shaking all at once.
“And we can’t have that! No! Feeling is something you can’t have unless it’s with that whore! But around your own wife?!” True, Florence wasn’t a whore in the common definition. She didn’t sleep around, she hadn’t cheated on Freddie. But she had slept with a married man, taken him from his family and referred to Svetlana as an opponent and problem. Had tried to replace her in Anatoly’s heart. And seemingly had won.
“Why should I calm down?! Because it’s not what I’m expected to be?! Perfect and poised and never saying anything that might be considered contradictory?! You’re the great Anatoly Sergievsky! Let the world bow at your feet for your prowess at the game! The game I taught you! But that doesn’t matter! I don’t matter! Maybe I never did!”
Gasping for breath, Svetlana broke her tirade as a coughing attack hit but she didn’t let it stop her for long. She could feel Anatoly’s hands on her shoulders, the weight of the world on her, her skin burning both from fever and feeling like heaviness where he touched.
“I mean, how can I matter if you just throw me away like nothing?! I’ve given everything to you! I gave you my heart! And you know I don’t just give it randomly to men I’ve just met! You took it and you played me! And you don’t even care!” Laughing bitterly, Svetlana tugged on random loose strands of hair since she couldn’t pace, crying in anger and pain.
“I went along with it, the cheating and neglect because you aways came home! I should have just... But it doesn’t matter! I’m an idiot and I love you and you just turn around and defect for a woman you didn’t even know! You left me, Anatoly! You promised you’d be the one who didn’t leave and that’s what you did! And don’t even try to say you didn’t know what the consequences would be! You’re an intelligent man, you’ve seen what happens to those left behind and you did it anyway! You left me to the sharks without a second thought and left me to pick up the pieces of my heart alone with two girls who didn’t understand what was going on! You left me to be attacked and abused, belittled and tormented daily! And then have to come home and answer questions on why you weren’t there to tell the girls stories! And then... oh and then! I’m called to Bangkok by a man I can’t stand, telling me that you’re reconsidering and just need to talk to me only to find out he plans to put the girls, who’ve done nothing to deserve this, in danger! And when I tell you? You get silent. You don’t give me an answer one way or the other only to declare your only obligation is a game. And you win. Putting them in danger! I knew you wouldn’t care about me being in danger as you’d already proven that but them!? Even coming home...it was for a man you’ve never met and don’t know if he’s even alive! Yet your own daughters you just.... it wasn’t if you came home that they’d be safe, it was if you lost. Something I never would have asked if they weren’t in danger! God forbid I think you have even some human decency to be there for them! And now you act like you care, when I know you don’t! You’re just trying to play me all over again. But she’s here and you two clearly are just wanting to be together with the girls so I repeat. Why. Did. You. Save. Me?!”
At some point during her rant, Svetlana had balled up her fists and began to beat Anatoly weakly on the chest but between her sobbing, fever and violent coughing, she didn’t have much strength. Strength which left as her legs gave out and she fell to her knees, doubling over as another violent coughing spasm hit to the point of blood, the petite woman gasping for breathe, whimpering.
“I can’t breathe...”
Of course he knew the words he’d said weren’t helpful, but were there really helpful words to be said right now? He kept his hands on Svetlana’s shoulders to keep her from pacing erratically and provoking her illness further, whatever it might be. Then as she started in on tirade, he was going to attempt a reply, but when she kept going, he just let her say it all. After all, all of it needed to come out, and he knew Svetlana well enough to know that she didn’t always let things out, especially not in the last five years when he’d changed and left her.
The words hurt, but the truth does have a way of hurting. But it hurt because he realized just how much he’d hurt her, how much he’d screwed up. And all for what, a game? It all seemed silly in hindsight, how a game could be taken so seriously. But Florence wasn’t the whore, not in the textbook definition of the word, it was Anatoly. Once he had promised to be the one that didn’t leave, and then what did he do? Just that. Left. Cheated. Defected. He’d become a man he never wanted to be, and all for a game and a title. But none of it mattered when compared to what Svetlana and the girls had gone through. An absent father and husband had to be explained away, until news of his defection came. He hadn’t know about what had happened in Russia when he wasn’t there, and he’d never asked when he was home. All because he’d become a cold machine built for chess and nothing else.
At the end of the tirade came the golden question of why he had saved her. The obvious answer from his side of the equation wouldn’t exactly be accepted right now. Svetlana wouldn’t believe it, and no amount of saying he cared would make anything better. All he could do now was just show that he was changing, that he wasn’t that heartless robot with no emotions anymore. But for Svetlana to say he never cared? That he’d just been playing her the entire time? It only showed him how broken she really was to believe that. And for a few moments, he wondered why she didn’t hate him and throw him out. She should hate him for everything and not want him around. His body language during the tirade was one sort of like a wounded puppy, but one that carried the weight of realization and guilt on his shoulders.
But any response he had was wiped away when Svetlana had the violent coughing fit that drove her to her knees. Anatoly knelt down beside her, then saw the blood. Immediately, his eyes flew wide and his mind immediately jumped to tuberculosis. Oh this wasn’t good. And she wasn’t able to breathe. Oh God. And this was his cue to start panicking. “We need to get you to a doctor. Now.” He didn’t know the complex doctor well enough to know if he was on duty right then or not. But Anatoly was not above carrying Svetlana to the nearest hospital. Because he would run down the street with her in his arms if he had to.
Svetlana really didn’t know what to expect. And it was probably good that he didn’t try to respond to anything she had said. Because so far, nothing he could say would make a difference. She knew that he didn’t actually care. How could he? Oh, she’d been fooled for seven years, but then... then he had begun to break every promise he made to her. Had pulled away as his star rose. Left her in the dark. She had stood tall as she always had, but the cracks had begun to form and deepened as the years went on until now where she was completely shattered and couldn’t breathe because it hurt too much.
Of course, Anatoly seeming to panic didn’t really make sense to the blond. She was fine. Both the blood and breathing issues could be explained away with logic. Violent coughing meant broken blood vessel in her throat. And panic attacks and coughing attacks meant unable to catch her breath. Really, Anatoly worried too much. Which again, didn’t make sense as he didn’t care. Unless he was just trying to make himself feel better or something like that. Play the part of concerned husband. No one would know the difference.
As she finally managed to catch her breath, the broken hearted woman just shook her head weakly, closing her eyes to keep the room from spinning.
“I’m fine, Anatoly... I don’t need to go to a doctor....” Besides, who would watch the girls? Certainly not Freddie or Florence. But, despite the fact that she’d been livid before, her words laced with acid, now they were weak, defeated. Her shoulders were slumped and head bowed. She was shivering and shaking and crying and broken. She hated it. And she hated that she had opened up to Anatoly in such a way. After all he had done to her... he still could make her open up to him. Would he always have that power over her? The power that, no matter how much he hurt her and broke her, he would still get her to talk? She had talked before, over that midnight game of chess about the attack during Famine, and while she hadn’t wanted to say what she had now, she still had. True, it was because she was livid by what she had seen and his stupid words, but he still got her to react and express her feelings when no one else could do that.
And again there she went with saying she was fine when everything else practically screamed otherwise. That was so like Svetlana, to pretend she was fine and give off the impression she had everything under control. But right now, Anatoly could see everything was completely the opposite. And he was honestly scared out of his mind. He had no idea about the state of tuberculosis in the current time, but where he’d come from, it was still a threat in Russia. And he sure as Hell wasn’t going to lose Svetlana if there was something he could do about it.
“Svetlana, you are not fine. You have a high fever, violent cough and now you’re coughing up blood. On top of that you’re having breathing problems. You need to see the doctor. We can go get the complex doctor if you’d rather not go to a hospital. But one way or the other you are seeing a doctor. Now.” His tone was probably close to that of a hysterical woman, but he kept his voice down so as not to disturb the girls. After all, they didn’t need the girls coming in here and seeing Svetlana like this. After the water incident earlier, they didn’t need something like that happening again. Though at least Svetlana was breathing a little easier for the moment. He tried to remember the complex doctor’s name and where his room was. It would be simple to just go and get the doctor and bring him back here. That way they didn’t have to bother someone else to babysit the girls in the meantime.
And now he was trying to tell her she was not fine. Okay. He had some very valid points at the moment. What with the coughing up blood thing and high fever and all. At least he forgot the passing out from earlier thing. Even so, Svetlana would fight it. She was exhausted and weak, but she didn’t want to go to the doctor. Not right now, at least.
“You just stated I have a violent cough. Which means I probably just burst a blood vessel in my throat, thus, coughing up blood. And crying tends to make it hard to breathe. Thus. It’s a high fever and a cough. No need to wake up any doctors or go to a hospital when we don’t exactly exist here.”
Yes. She had admitted to actually crying to the point where she couldn’t breathe, something she normally wouldn’t do. But it wasn’t something she could exactly deny had happened. She was still shaking and wiped at her eyes even though her head was still bowed. She didn’t want Anatoly to see her so completely defeated. To let him know what he had done to her. Oh. He knew. She had spelled it out for him, but he didn’t need to see that defeat and heart break written over her face.
So instead, Svetlana just wrapped her arms around her torso, trying to hide in herself. As if doing so would make this entire nightmare just go away. Maybe all of this was a fever dream. The past five years.... maybe none of this had happened at all... But even as she had those thoughts, she knew it wasn’t true. She knew that Anatoly had broken his word and broken her heart repeatedly and didn’t care. With her body not exactly wanting to cooperate with her, Svetlana leaned forward and rested her head on Anatoly’s shoulder, her hair falling over her shoulders and hiding her face.
“If it’s still an issue tomorrow, I’ll go then...”
Anatoly was bound and determined to get a doctor as quickly as possible to see Svetlana. And he was adamantly stubborn when it came to these things. So it would happen. He would see to it. Because he did care. And well, Svetlana also had points with the blood and breathing. But still, Anatoly would much rather be safe than sorry. After all, if they waited until the morning to see a doctor, Svetlana could very well die between now and then. So it stood to reason some type of medical attention was needed now.
“I could go get the complex doctor. Then you wouldn’t have to go anywhere.” Which was perfectly reasonable. And better than a hospital when they didn’t actually exist here. And people could mistake them for the actors that had portrayed them in that musical. When Svetlana leaned her head against his shoulder, Anatoly tentatively slid an arm around her back. It was mostly meant out of comfort since Svetlana was obviously incredibly sick and weak.
Anatoly drew in a breath, weighing the pros and cons of waiting until the morning. Of course, every other reason in the con section was POSSIBLE DEATH before morning. “What if this is something serious? Waiting until the morning could be a bad idea.” Yes, he was still fighting to get a doctor in there tonight. Because he was in touch with his inner woman and was freaking out. Of course, he was freaking out more inside than he was outside, but his outer freaking out was pretty out there.
Why was he pushing this? No. Really. Why? It was like in that damned musical concert. Where, whenever she was mentioned in some way, he got near hysterical. Stormed out of an interview, panicked at Florence. Really, none of it made sense. Still, she didn’t shirk away from him as he wrapped the arm around her back, given how much he had put her through. Everything she had said. She shouldn’t have found comfort in his presence. Just as she shouldn’t have leaned against him on the couch, nor here. But it was too late now and instead, she just trembled.
Still, he was trying to leave. Maybe it was a ruse. Say he was going to get a doctor but really just leave her alone. Again. Could she handle it? She wasn’t going to beg him to stay. She wasn’t going to crawl back to him. She had stated as much in Bangkok. But here and now, she didn’t want to be alone. Maybe she was afraid of what would happen if she were. What if Molokov broke in while he was off ‘getting the doctor’? She wouldn’t be able to protect the girls in her current state.
“Just a few hours.... I’ll be fine. Besides, if Molokov decides to break in....”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence as she started coughing and hid against Anatoly as the coughing attack stopped. She hated this. She hated this entire day. That’s all there was to it.
He felt her trembling as she leaned against him. It only fueled that mother hen in him more. When she didn’t recoil after he wrapped the one arm around her, he wrapped his other one around her back, effectively putting her in a little cocoon. Because he wanted to make her feel better in some little way. Whether that was with getting a doctor or holding her or anything. At this point, he’d really do anything.
Then came the Molokov topic again. But he was going along with this. So he had to drop the doctor subject. For now. “You’re right. If you’re still coughing this badly in the morning, then we’ll go see the doctor.” Which of course meant Anatoly wasn’t going to leave Svetlana’s side for one moment tonight. What if she had a coughing fit and choked on her own blood and died? What if she stopped breathing in her sleep? Clearly he’d need to be right here to make sure she kept breathing and didn’t have a fatal coughing fit. Not that he was in the medical profession and could really do anything to help stop a fatal coughing fit, but he would try.
“We should get you into bed so you can rest.” And before she could protest, Anatoly picked her up in his arms and carried her over to her bed. He pulled back the covers, then gently laid her on the bed.
And he finally dropped it. Yes, she had in a way admitted weakness in her inability to protect the girls with her brief comment on Molokov, but it was clearly a valid concern. Anatoly was so quick to point out that she wasn’t fine today. So how could he expect her to protect the girls from Molokov if he broke in while he was searching. He couldn’t. That’s how. She knew that she’d probably be taken to the doctor first thing in the morning, but for now, she had won. And that was all that mattered.
Of course, then he was picking her up, and Svetlana yelped in shock and protest.
“I can walk the few feet to my bed, Toly...” Even as she protested the carrying, Svetlana held onto her husband, not realizing that she had once again called him by his shortened name. It was happening more often than she liked. When she fell into familiarity with him, when she tried to calm him down. And then that night, when he had found her unconscious and now. Still, she held onto him, even as he placed her on the bed. She figured he’d leave once she was asleep... and truthfully, she wasn’t sleeping much. She hadn’t since the attack at the beginning of July. And Anatoly knew that. She had admitted it during their chess game, without thinking. He always did that. Got her to open up by being unassuming, pressing in just the right way to make her not think about it until it was too late.
Curling up against Anatoly, Svetlana closed her eyes.
“I’ll be fine in the morning...you’ll see....” The words were mumbled tiredly, the blond shivering and burning up all at once, drifting off into a restless sleep, hiding against Anatoly as the night went on from nightmares.
Anatoly had originally planned to sit by her bedside, but when she didn’t let go of him he laid down next to her, sliding his arms around her again as he made himself comfortable. Oh he knew she wasn’t sleeping, and he hoped that she would be able to get some sleep tonight. He’d stay there the whole night holding her, making sure she got some amount of rest. Anatoly well knew she might get pissed at him for staying in her bed the whole night, but right now he didn’t care about that. He only cared about seeing that she made it through the night without dying.
“We will see,” was his response to her saying she’d be fine in the morning. He of course knew she wouldn’t be fine, not with that cough. But he relented on fighting the issue. Svetlana needed to rest, not spend the remains of what little energy she had left arguing about whether or not she’d be fine. He held her close to him, and he remained awake, just in case he needed to call a doctor on emergency or something. He well knew he’d let her down badly more than once, but he wasn’t going to let her down now. Whether she admitted it or not, she needed someone there and she needed someone to force her to take care of herself. Or at least try to take care of her. Come the morning, he’d get her to the doctor in some way, shape or form.