**Author's Note!**

So, this has no relevance to the story but I just felt like telling you. I'm being Mila for Halloween (which is tomorrow) and my wig came in! It's great, I'm so excited! I'm not trick or treating because I'm too old now, *sigh* but I am going to hand out candy so there will be a bunch of little kids like 'Who the hell are you?' And I'll be like 'A character from a show you've never heard of.' I can't wait! 

Also- Happy birthday Otabek!! (This is in reality, not the fic; his birthday is October 31st)!! I love him so much, honestly, it's a bit scary how deep my mania for this show and its characters goes. Okay, A/N over now, thanks for listening! Enjoy!

December 16th, 2025-Two Days Later-

Yuri's POV

I sit on the couch with my daughter in my arms. My daughter. I'm unable to take my eyes off of her; so tiny and so perfect I'm still not entirely sure she's real. She sleeps softly, her beautiful green eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering slightly. I gaze down at her, so in love with the tiny creature, that I don't notice as my husband sits down beside me. 

"Yuri," He says and gently touches my arm before I raise my head, unwilling to look away from the little pink bundle. I meet his eyes,

"Fuck, already?"

"I don't know how they did it," I glance back at the infant, 

"We're not waking her up,"

"I'm not insane," He replies with a small teasing smile, "But they've found us nonetheless," I sigh and roll my eyes,

"I guess we're lucky it isn't sooner. Knowing Victor he'd have come on the day she was born if Yuuri hadn't stopped him- no common sense," He laughs,

"God, do we know that," He checks the clock, "We should have about half an hour," I nod and glance around the room, making sure the floor is clear before standing up. I do so with only slight pain- an improvement- and start for the nursery, hoping to deflect Sacha from the lunatic couple's reign of terror for as long as possible. I set her down gently in the cradle, freezing before removing my arms, praying she'll remain asleep. She does and I quietly leave the room, escaping into the hallway before walking normally once more.

I return downstairs and join my husband in the kitchen, needing lunch before taking on the challenge ahead. We're almost finished when the doorbell rings. I groan and raise my eyes to the ceiling; knowing even before the cries come through the baby monitor that she's been woken up. We split, Otabek letting the duo in as I ascend the stairs to comfort the screaming infant.

I lift her carefully from the bassinet, holding her to my shoulder and patting her back gently, calming her down. She quiets and I stay up there for a while, not wanting to greet the company I know will be waiting in the living room, and, more importantly, not wanting to subject my daughter to it. When I do, at last, make my way back to the first floor, Sacha in tow, I can't believe what I find.

Yuuri and Victor, I knew they would be coming. What I did not expect, however, were Maria and Mila, both eagerly listening to something Otabek's saying. Their backs are to me, except for my husband, who seems to notice me approaching and shoots an apologetic glance at me, not that he needs to, I knew they'd do something like this.

I step the livingroom and inwardly compose myself; Here we go, into battle.

"Yurio!" I mentally wince at Victor's enthusiastic voice (that is not my goddamn name!!) and physically repeat the action as the loud noise startles Sacha. She starts crying and immediately everyone turns to look at me as I attempt to console her, shushing and cooing with the best of them. I shoot Victor an annoyed glance as Sacha adamantly continues crying despite my best efforts. Otabek, obviously seeing me struggle, comes over and, after receiving a knowing glance from him, I relinquish the baby. Eventually, he succeeds in getting her to quiet but her face remains flushed and obstinant; she is not in a good mood. Then again, neither am I. This was her first encounter with Victor so I really can't blame her. 

"How are you?" Yuuri asks me interestedly after we're all seated; Otabek holding Sacha and me awkwardly watching. It feels wrong without her in my arms. 

"Fine," I say evasively, worried I know what he's asking about and praying he isn't. He raises an eyebrow and I look away, I will not have this conversation. Most likely sensing my vehement discomfort with the subject, he changes it.

"Has the sleep deprivation hit yet?" Yuuri shoots a knowing look at Victor and they exchange a smile, looking fondly at Maria. I glance toward my husband, yes, the sleep deprivation is hitting us, and, suddenly, I'm all too aware that my hair hasn't been washed in a week and a half.

"Somewhat," Otabek answers, "It'll get worse," Mila, who's been silent up until this point, enters the conversation now, brightly asking,

"Can I hold her?" Again, I shoot a nervous look at my husband. First of all, hell no. Second of all, she's asleep and not in a good mood so I am not waking her up unless it's absolutely necessary.

"That's not a good idea," I bite my lip, knowing she won't like this answer and hoping she won't push it, "She's been a bit difficult today, you saw that earlier, plus we really shouldn't wake her." She looks disappointed but nods, probably assuming she'll be allowed to before they go. Absolutely not.

"Can I use the bathroom?" Maria speaks, having gone unnoticed up until now. 

"Sure," I smile at her, having missed the little girl after so long, "It's down the hall, do you want me to help you find it?" She shakes her head and looks in the direction I point.

"I can figure it out," She proceeds down the chosen route and the conversation resumes. We continue talking about various things; Sacha, skating, and Maria. Apparently she's doing very well in school and has finished the Rainbow Fairies series, now rereading it even though her parents have given her several other options for literary stimulation. She rejoins the group soon after the subject is exhausted, and everything proceeds as normal. Otabek lays Sacha in her bassinet, now by the sofa, after a while, content that she'll be able to sleep soundly after growing accustomed to the white noise of our conversation. 

Yuuri says something funny about how Maria looked asleep as an infant, and, laughing, I look over at my own daughter, sleeping in her cradle. My heart stops.

"No!" Potya sits on top of her, comfortably nuzzled against her face. Her little limbs move uselessly as she tries to get rid of the fur blocking her air, too tiny to fully control them yet. Before I'm aware I've done anything, I'm on my feet, beside the pair in an instant and throwing Potya off my daughter. In a second, she's in my arms, face flushed, but eyes still open with tears pouring out of them. I hold her close to me, my grip on her small body vicelike, unable to stop looking at her, stop examining her to make sure she's okay. I feel a hand on my shoulder and whip my head around to find my husband standing beside me. He has the terror I feel echoed in his face, and I shake my head, letting him know she's okay and simultaneously turning her to him, her cries resonating around the room. He looks like he's had a heart attack, and I suspect I look ten times worse, clutching her to me, only loosening my grip when she lets me know that it's too tight, and physically forcing my muscles to relax. 

"How could she have gotten out?" My husband seems to find his voice, and I just shake my head, tears forming in my eyes and having lost the ability to articulate words. "Thank god we found her," He turns to the cat, now held firmly in Mila's arms, no sign of release coming. "What if this had happened at night, what if we weren't here?" His voice shakes slightly and, again, I can't respond. The answer, however, comes without either of us having to speak.

"I let her out," Maria states this quite plainly,  obviously not having understood what's happened. "I was going to the bathroom but opened the wrong door at first. She was stuck in the bedroom so I let her out before finding the right one," She shrugs nonchalantly, then, seeing my expression, looks nervous. "What? Did I do something wrong?" I just shake my head numbly, unable to form words or entirely comprehend them over the pounding of my own heart. Maria turns to her parents, both looking horrified at what's just transpired.

"Maria," Victor says quietly, stunned and frozen by what she's said, not even knowing that she has. "Potya was in there for a reason, cats can be very dangerous," Maria looks blank, but, sensing that this is not a good time for a follow-up question, leaves it at that. 

"We should go," Yuuri speaks now, breaking the silence stretching between us all, "I'm so sorry Yurio," He looks it and I nod, throat closed, and realizing suddenly that I haven't been breathing. The small family leaves, only Mila remaining.

"What should I do-?" She glances toward the cat still clutched and wriggling in her arms. Otabek leads her to the spare bedroom, Potya's prison until about five minutes ago. Once she's gone as well, my husband returns to the living room.

"This can never happen again," I say quietly, finally able to speak. He nods,

"We can't take the chance," We look down at the tiny creature in my arms, the thing we both care about most in the world. After coming to a decision, we call Chris the next day. He has a cat and agrees to take Potya for a while, until we're sure it's safe to have her back here. Neither of us wanted to give her up, she's a part of the family one way or another, and it would be wrong to get rid of her entirely. This is the best solution we could find, a middle ground we can both subscribe to.

We end up on the couch once more, me sitting wrapped in my husband's embrace as our daughter stirs sleepily in my own. The excitement of the day seems to have tired her out, and it's just as well as it's drained both her parents of energy too. I rest my head on Otabek's shoulder and let myself relax, eyes closing and sinking into the warmth of his being. He smiles slightly and kisses the top of my head, gently taking Sacha from me as I drift off to sleep. As I fall, I get the mental image of what we must look like; Otabek holding our daughter, and me, sleeping leaning up against him. This strikes me, in my sleep-deprived half-unconscious state, as the picture of family.