**Author's Note!**

100 reads, oh my god!!!!! I'm so excited right now!! Thank you, everyone, who cares about this (albeit weird) story of mine and can deal with my crappy writing! I love you all to the moon and back!!

September 15th, 2025- A Month Later- 30 Weeks-

Yuri's POV 1st Person

I roll over and try yet again to become comfortable.
I fail.
Miserably.
It's currently 2 am, and even after 3 hours of trying, I have yet to find sleep and make it my equal. If it's already this hard to rest I can't imagine what it'll be like when the baby's born, and I'm not eager to find out. Just the thought of this makes me uneasy and I roll over, pushing the thoughts away. After a while, I drift off but am jerked awake by the most annoying sound on planet earth. Something's flashing and buzzing from my bedside table and I groan, wanting to kill the thing that woke me up.

"What," I mutter into the phone as I accept the call, not even bothering to check the ID.

"Yuri?" My husband's voice comes through the phone and I mentally facepalm. Of course, who else would call me at 2 o'clock in the morning? Only someone who it isn't 2 o'clock in the morning for. "Did I wake you?" He asks me, worried, and then realizes, "It's 2 am there, isn't it? Of course, I woke you up. I'm sorry, go back to sleep." He says hastily and starts to hang up but I stop him, awake now and wanting to talk.

"I'm fine," I lie, suppressing a yawn, "I was up."

"No, you weren't," He says, seeing right through my bluff.

"Okay, I wasn't," I admit, "But I am now and I won't be able to sleep so talk to me."

"Okay," He says and I can hear the guilt in his voice, I wish I hadn't mentioned that I wouldn't be able to sleep. "Practice went well today, Yakov still won't let me do the Donut spin* in my Short Program though," I laugh,

"I should hope not, it's a mess." I roll my eyes at the mental image of him attempting the easy move; it really is pathetic. Adorably pathetic yes, but that's not the point. "You said the rest was good though? Tell me about that."

"I worked on the quad Lutz a lot," He says, "I landed it every time and feel confident about tomorrow."

"That's good," I say and press a hand to my mouth as another yawn breaks free.

"Go to bed," Otabek says, catching it immediately,

"But I want to hear more about practice," I tell him, although I am exhausted.

"I'll be here in the morning- I'll even have new material." I can hear his concerned smile through the phone, "You need the sleep, you sound like you're about to pass out."

"Fine, love you," I say before I click off, this last phrase being our new goodbye.

"Love you," He replies, "Talk to you tomorrow." The call ends and I set my phone back down on the table, leaning at an odd position to do so.

"No! Don't you start," I mutter but it's already too late, my stomach is being attacked by its inhabitant. "Stop," I groan and put a hand on it, feeling the strong kicks that won't cease. "Of course you're both up just as I'm trying to sleep," I mumble, shutting my eyes and turning over in an attempt to force myself to do so. What a surprise, it doesn't work.

I try every position and still sleep evades me, every stretch and contortion more uncomfortable than the last, this fact attested to by the kicks increasing in strength. Holding my abdomen I shift again and get a particularly powerful kick to the area just below where my hand rests. "Leave me alone," I groan and abandon my attempts to sleep on my side, rolling over onto my back, but not intending to stay there. Surprisingly, however, the kicks stop as the baby appears to like my position. Almost immediately following this relief, I begin to drift off and consider moving, but decide against it. If I move and I get a disagreement it'll never stop, and, knowing full well I'll regret this in the morning, I fall asleep.

***

And I do. It takes me ten minutes to be able to sit up without pain and another five before I even contemplate getting up. "I'm the fucking elephant man," I mutter, referring of course to the end of the movie, "Except, instead of dying, my spine snaps." I maneuver myself out of bed, over balancing slightly as my torso adjusts and narrowly avoiding falling over.

I spend the rest of the day not doing anything, not because I have nothing to do, I have plenty to do, but because it comes in a storm of kicking. I wait impatiently for the evening, knowing Beka goes on at 6 pm, meaning 1 am for me. Eventually, the time comes and I get ready on the couch, excited to see the first Grand Prix event of the season. The warm up goes well, Otabek having enough sense not to show his downfall of spins in front of a live audience and landing his Lutz* beautifully, unlike Georgi, a Flutz* if I've ever seen one. He'll definitely be marked down for that.

"Otabek Altin!" My heart speeds up at the familiar name and watch with bated breath as he mounts the ice. It's weird to see this over the TV, ever since we've been together we've either been lucky enough to be assigned the same events, or traveled to them with each other, both of which made impossible by my current circumstances. The music begins and I stare transfixed at the sight of my husband gliding beautifully across the ice. Before I know it his program's over and he stands frozen in his final pose. Forgetting temporarily that I'm not actually there, I clap too, not stopping even when I realize he can't see or hear me. I cheer as he lands first place, as I knew he would, and beam as he breaks his personal best. He grins broadly at the camera and makes a heart with his hands, something so uncharacteristic of him to do I know it's aimed at me.

I watch the interviews and laugh at how awkward my husband is under the praise he receives, never having been good with compliments and, like myself when I skate, seeing his performance as riddled with errors. Once it's over I lean my head on my hand, remaining seated on the couch. I do this because I'm waiting to hear from Otabek; he always calls after an event and we usually end up on the phone for over an hour. The call doesn't come however, and instead, I receive a text that reads;

Beka: Go to sleep, I'll talk to you in a few hours

Yuri: I'm not tired

Beka: Yes, you are. You need sleep.

Yuri: But I want to talk to you

Beka: You can talk to me in the morning, go to bed.

Yuri: But you did so well

Beka: Thank you, but that is entirely irrelevant.

Yuri: But-

Beka: Bed. Now, please.

Yuri: Fine, I love you

Beka: I love you too

I set my phone down but make no move to stand. I'm half asleep as it is and the couch is very comfortable. I sink into its cushions and shut my eyes, asleep in seconds.

***

"I have come to the conclusion that your daughter misses you," I say into the phone two days later. Otabek laughs,

"She can't yet, she doesn't know who I am." I wince slightly,

"Oh, she does. I don't know how but she most certainly does." He laughs again and I can hear him shaking his head over the phone.

"Whatever you say. She won't have to wait long though; I'm back tomorrow."

"Thank god," I mumble, "I can't take much more of this," And indeed I can't. Ever since my husband left our daughter hasn't stopped kicking. It's ridiculous, I feel like I'm being internally bruised, if that's possible.

"More of what?" He asks me, not seeing what I mean. Me, being in no hurry to make him feel guilty, answer vaguely.

"Suffice it to say that you are missed, you'll see what I mean." I reply and ensure my voice is light.

"Okay..." Otabek responds and I can hear the wheels turning in his head as he attempts to glean my meaning. "My flight's about to board, see you soon!"

"See you soon!" I say cheerfully as the call clicks off, but not soon enough. I grit my teeth as my daughter pummels my insides- she's definitely strong. I put an arm around my stomach and swing myself to my feet, walking slowly down the hallway with no particular destination in mind. Ever since I felt her kick for the first time a few months ago the doctors said her movements would become more frequent and more powerful as she grew. God, were they right. I've found that walking sometimes helps calm her down, maybe the motion is soothing or something, I don't know, but as it's all I've got to go on, I walk and hope for the best. It's a bit of a shame walking's her chosen comfort though, as easy as it seems, the process is now a bit of an ordeal. First of all, I look ridiculous; a hand on my back and another on my bump and I waddle down the hall aimlessly. And secondly; my feet hurt. God, that sounds so stupid to say, I'm a figure skater, my feet always hurt, but this is different. This isn't; I've been on my feet in tight skates for hours, hurt but; If I take one more step I'm going to fall down and die, hurt. I don't though, I walk.

***

I'm almost asleep on the couch when the door opens, my husband stepping inside for the first time in a week.

"Yuri," Otabek whispers in my ear. I haven't noticed him enter as, from my position curled into a ball on the couch, my hair blocks my view. I jump slightly at the noise, but smile as I see who made it. I uncurl immediately, rising (with my husband's help) to give him a hug. We exchange a kiss before Otabek leans down and puts a hand on my bump. I smile as he does so, but quickly stop as I'm hit once again. Otabek, apparently having felt this, laughs, "That was strong," He says excitedly and I nod weakly, not wanting to burst his happy little bubble. I'm forced to however when the next kick requires me to grab his shoulder for support. He looks up, his expression melting into worry as he takes in my face and hears my gasp. "Are you okay?" He asks me, taking his hand from my stomach, giving me a gentle hug.

"I'm fine," I say unconvincingly, my point being even further damaged, as, yet again, I noticeably wince from the force with which I'm being kicked. I reach down and hold my bulging bump, silently begging for my daughter to stop, to give me five fucking minutes of peace.

Otabek guides me down to the couch and sits beside me, "Is this what you meant?" He asks me slowly, "That I've been missed?" I nod,

"It's normally not this bad," I try to reassure him, "Today she's just... excited." He raises an eyebrow and we both see through my bullshit. "Okay, yeah." I admit, "It's not the best but it's okay."

"I'm so sorry," He says quietly, stroking my cheek, "I hate that you're going through this."

"It's okay," I reply with a half-smile, "It'll be worth it," He puts an arm around me,

"But for now," He says and lowers his gaze, "Stop please," He speaks to the bump and I laugh,

"That'll never work," I tell him, but stand corrected, the kicks ceasing as if she knows her dad's near. "You're magic," I whisper with a smile and kiss my husband. He just laughs and kisses me back.

**Author's Note!**

Okay, so in the upcoming chapters, and in a few past ones, I've included a lot of figure skating jargon that, if you're not a skater (I am) is unintelligible. For this reason, I'm putting stars by important moves and glossaries at the bottom of the page in A/N form so you guys have an idea of what it means. Sorry about the jargon by the way!

*GLOSSARY*

*Flip- A jump from a backward left INSIDE edge, where you dig the right toe pick into the ice, push off with both feet, and land on the right foot (for future reference you land all jumps on the right foot)

*Lutz- Basically a harder version of the Flip because it takes off from an OUTSIDE edge (A lot of skaters can't do it right because of the outside edge, which is significantly harder, see Flutz)

*Flutz- An incorrect Lutz, you basically do everything for a Lutz but just before you jump you change to an inside edge which makes the jump a Flip, therefore dubbing is a 'Flutz' (In competition you get a Flip's base value instead of a Lutz's which is higher than the Flip's)

*Scratch Spin- A one-foot spin where your non-spinning leg wraps around the spinning leg, crossing at the ankle

*Camel Spin- A one-foot spin where the non-spinning leg is horizontally in the air, parallel to the ice

*Donut Spin- Basically a Camel but you grab your elevated foot and spin while facing the audience (HARD!!!) and form a donut shape (You have to be extremely flexible to do this move and have exceptional balance. This is the move that Otabek is so bad at)

*GOE- Grade of Execution- How well you did the move, and the points you receive based upon that, (along with the base value and any deductions)

*Base Value- How hard it was, meaning how many points you receive, coupled with the GOE and any deductions

*Deduction- If you did anything wrong or illegal (in skating), the points that are taken from your overall score

*Technical Score- The accuracy to which you performed the moves in your program

*Interpretation Score- The choreography, emotional expression, and facial expression while you perform and in the program (the general feeling and performance, it should tell a story)