Pitter Patter | Victuuri Adoption AU on hiatus

Questions

The policewoman has a lot of questions, asked exclusively in Russian. I could maybe read her questions and try to decipher them, but my conversational Russian is not appropriate for speaking to anyone except Victor. Of course, I blanch when she rounds on me, holding Elkena. Otabek and Yurio are forced to explain.

Finally, she tries again in heavily accented English.

"Please come to station for questions."

Before I respond, my gaze floats down to Elkena, held securely on my hip.

"She will become in good hands," the policewoman assures me, holding out her own arms.

Elkena cries when I attempt to bequeath her into the policewoman's arms.

"No!" she screams. "Yuri!" Her tears create hot streaks down her frosted, snow- and dirt-covered face.

"You may sit with her in car," the policeman waves her hand for me to follow.

She then turns back to Elkena's mother and begins barking for her to get in the backseat of the police vehicle. Otabek and Yurio tell me they'll follow on Otabek's motorcycle to the police office.

*****

Walking home through the dark night and the frigid snow had already been hard enough, but when adding the guilt and anxiety of leaving behind a defenseless five year old to the mercy of Russia's child care system to my preexisting discomfort, the walk becomes next to impossible. Walking, in fact, becomes a trudge, and the trudge soon gives way to a less than motivated drifting.

I don't see the worried text messages from Victor. He wants me to come home and get some sleep for tomorrow morning's skate. He also wants me to get out of the cold and come to bed. Even more than that, he wants to apologize for sending me out by myself. I don't even notice the messages, however, to know to respond to him. He's in tears and on the verge of calling the police (oh boy) by the time I finally make it through the front door.

"Victor?" I call heavily, weakly trying to leave my angst and my jacket at the door.

"Yuuri!" I hear the footsteps first, Victor's accompanied by Makkachin's, scrambling as they both greet me at once. "Yuuri, I-I've been so worried about you!" he cries.

Hot tears spill over the collar of my shirt onto the skin of my neck as he says it, embracing me tightly in his arms. Makkachin has his own words with me, barking before nudging my leg with his head. Spent, tired, and wanting nothing more than to crumble in Victor's arms, I give into tears as well. I'm a clammy mess without even a gift for Georgi's surprise birthday party-- as I was sent out to retrieve in the first place-- to show for my trouble. Victor notices, but doesn't question me now. He bundles me into his arms and carries me upstairs.

Everything happens as if in a dream. He sets me in front of the fireplace, helping me out of my cold, wet clothes into warm, dry material. And then sits with me, Makkachin also coming to bask in the warmth with us.

"Yuuri," he takes me into his lap as he says it, sharing his body heat, "tell me. What happened while you were out."

I don't know where to start. I take another deep breath and let the words go as quickly or slowly as they come to me, surprising even myself with some of what I say.

"I ran into Yurio, on my way in and their way out of the shopping complex," I begin shakily. "He was with Otabek, and Yuri was screaming his head off at someone-- like he always is-- but it seemed serious," I recall, "so I stopped to see what was the commotion all about."

I falter there, stopping to rub my eyes. Victor kisses my neck once as an encouragement to continue. Grateful for his warmth and his love, I absentmindedly bring my hand up to rub in his hair fondly before continuing. I glance over to see his eyes, hooded by his bangs, and I wish I hadn't. Victor looks so worried he might start crying again. The sight unwillingly brings tears to my own eyes, and I fight to keep them from spilling onto my cheeks, but I lose the fight as soon as my mouth opens again.

"Yurio was trying to protect a little kid, a five-year-old girl, Elkena," I choke. I can feel Victor's surprise like electricity, but he doesn't say anything, allowing me to continue. "Her mom was bashing her with an empty glass bottle when Yurio caught her," I pause to take a desperate breath through incoming sobs. "She was covered in so much blood she couldn't keep her face clean of it. And I didn't want to leave her alone, Victor. I didn't want to leave her there."

I can feel Victor's warm hold of me tighten protectively as he listens. If I look into his eyes again, I know I'll only lose the ability to speak due to wracking waves of guilt and grief, so I look into the fireplace before speaking again. It takes me a few heartbeats to work up the strength to form intelligible words.

"She was so little." I break down here. "I picked her up and talked to her while Otabek called the police. I just wanted to help her. God, Victor, I wanted to take her home and let her stay with us..." I whisper meekly. "Even we could love her better than her mother. And even she loved me-- a stranger-- more than her mother, after just a few minutes of holding her."

"What happened to her?" Victor pushes softly.

"Sh-she's going through social work and legal proceedings for the next several months, and then she'll be placed in the care of her grandmother."

"Mm..." he mumbles. "Yuuri, have you ever heard the story of Yurio's past?" Victor sighs heavily.

I wipe my face and look up at him. A glint of curiosity and concern begins to rise in my chest.

"Are you implying that Yurio was abused like Elkena? Placed in the care of his grandfather later?"