“Your brother is dead.”
The locker room noise faded away to nothing as he tried to understand the words. His father might as well have been speaking French for all they made sense. Alexei couldn't be dead; that didn't make sense. He had seen his brother walk off a beating, walk off a drug overdose, walk off every bullshit situation he had gotten himself into. Alexei was going to live until he was one hundred and he was going to bleed Ilya dry the whole time. He couldn't be dead. Fuck.
Ilya shook his head. “Say that again.”
“Alexei is dead. So is his wife.”
“Anna? My niece? Is she dead too?”
“She was not in the car.”
Without thinking about it, he grabbed Coach LeClaire’s shoulder. “Alexei and Maria are dead?”
“I have already told you this. Will you listen? They are dead. You must come home.”
“I’ll be on the next flight,” he said.
“Good. And, Ilya?” The only noise for a long moment was Grigori’s slightly ragged breathing. “You are listed as your niece’s guardian in Alexei’s will. She is your responsibility now.”
Grigori hung up before Ilya could even think of a reply.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/84275766/chapters/222265371
