it's 2 am shane is holding ilya after a nightmare woke him up, his head on shane's chest, shane running his fingers through his hair like he likes. he apologized for waking shane up, many times, but shane was awake before ilya was. it's like he's got a sixth sense at this point - his brain and body attuned to the way ilya tenses in his sleep, the way his legs kick, the little noises he makes. the way he whimpers (i dont whimper shane, russians do not whimper) (he whimpers. it would be cute if it was for any other reason).
ilya doesn't quite remember this one, he just knows it left him feeling lost and alone and like he'd just lost something, someone, again. and mama was there. she's always there, until she's not.
shane kisses his head softly. tell me a nice memory, he says. tell me something nice about her. and so ilya does, tells him how when he was sad, or scared, or hurt, she would sing him their special song. he names it, in russian, sings a little bit, and shane can pick out some of the words. it sounds nice. lovely, even, in ilyas sleepy rumbling russian. shane makes a mental note. that's a really nice memory, ilya, shane says. it is, ilya agrees. i'm glad i have it. he sings a little more. shane kisses him. i'm glad i have you, ilya thinks, as he drifts back to sleep.
it's late but shane pulls out his phone and starts his search anyway. he's only got a few phrases to work with, but he thinks he can find it. and it takes a few days, and a sneaky call with svetlana when ilya is in the shower, but he tracks the song down. his russian isn't great yet, but he thinks, maybe, by ilyas birthday - that gives him a couple months. he's not a good singer, especially won't be in russian, but he thinks ilya will be happy anyway.
so he practices, finds it on youtube and listens, trying to get the melody just right. the words are harder. but he's got some time.
but it's less than three weeks later and ilya wakes up again, and it's a particularly bad one. he's crying, big sobs racking his his body. and shane can't do anything but just hold on. hold him, rock him, pet his hair. i'm here, baby, i've got you. baby. i'm here. and shane doesn't even realize it when he starts humming. but ilya does. ilya sits up and looks at him, a confused look on his face, and for a brief moment shane thinks he fucked up. maybe this is too much, maybe ilya wanted that to stay a memory, maybe it was just for him and mama.
but then ilya breathes out shane, my shane, you learned this song?
it was supposed to be for your birthday. i'm sorry, i don't know all the words yet.
god shane, and he kisses him, and it's wet from ilyas tears, and i love you, i love you, ya tebya lyublyu, i love you.
i love you too, i love you so much.
and so shane does. he hums the melody, softly, until ilya is asleep again on his chest, peacefully this time. keeps humming, hoping the sound is woven into ilya's dreams, until he eventually drifts off to sleep himself.
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