**Author's Note!**

I'm SOOOOOO sorry this took me so long to publish! Six days is a lot and you have the right to hate me!! This chapter has been in my drafts for like forever and I just haven't been able to proof it as I've been so incredibly busy over the past week! I hope you can forgive me, and, in other more exciting news.........

500 READS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't believe we finally got here! Thank you so much for your continued support, I love you all! You have no idea what this means to me, I am so grateful for the kindness and support you've given me throughout this story! I hope you get the satisfaction from my writing that I do from your comments. And, without further ado, enjoy!

April 3rd, 2026- Two Months Later- 4 Months Old-

Yuri's POV

I collapse against the boards, every atom in my body screaming for release. Picking up my water bottle, I take a deep draught from it and try not to look too pathetic. For my first day back at practice, I honestly don't know which is harder to deal with; the physical practice, or how much I miss my daughter.

Getting up at 6 am was painful enough (though, when do I not, with Sacha as my alarm clock) but having to be ready and out of the house by 7:15 nearly killed me. It wasn't even that the routine of it was difficult (though it was, tremendously so) but having to leave Sacha, my daughter, the most precious thing in the entire world, behind with a stranger. For seven hours.

I feel as if I might lose my mind thinking about it- what if something goes wrong? What if she gets hurt or sick or something and I'm not there! Why did we even hire this person, I don't care that she has a Ph.D. in child psychology and has been a licensed nanny for 12 years, what does she know about Sacha? We didn't even hire her in a nanny capacity, she's only the daycare (for lack of a better word) until she's old enough to go to a real one. 

Karen- the woman's name, seems lovely, I have to admit, but that could just be a cover. What's to say the person she seems to be is real and not just a persona she puts on for interviews, going back to her horrible self again once she's got the job and alone with the child? At this thought, my eyes drift back to my phone, sitting with those of the others' on the bench. I've been restraining myself for two hours (since practice began) from calling. I don't want to be that person, or give my teammates anything else to mock, as, they've luckily spared the parent jokes for now in light of our return, but the anxiety is eating at me. 

I surrender to the nagging worries and let my hand reach out to it, grabbing it off the bench and typing in the password. At the home screen- Sacha, of course, I feel myself relax slightly. The sight of my daughter never fails to calm me down. It's fine, everything's fine, I know it. Karen's amazing, both Beka and I loved her, and so did Sacha! I mean, she giggled when she first met her! I'm just being silly, they'll be fine together, there's no need to call. I replace the cell phone on the bench and set down my water bottle, facing the ice with a strong foreboding.

I can do this. 

I can. 

I have before. I will again. 

So- go on. 

Do it. 

My body resists. My feet and legs are dying even as I stand motionless by the wall, begging me to let them rest. No. Damn it, I am Yuri Plisetsky, I will do this! I am the youngest ever winner of the Grand Prix Final, and reigning, (well, as of two seasons ago) world champ! 

I push off and return to my previously occupied position in the middle. Starting crossovers, I leap into the, previously forbidden, double Axel. I land it, but shakily, and, much to my combined dismay and annoyance, find that half the rink watches me. I put all my efforts into ignoring them, especially Yuuri with the look of supportive understanding on his face, and wind up again, doing the jump with only a slight improvement.

It's not exactly a surprise this is so difficult, it has been over a year since I really practiced, but, even so, I guess I assumed I'd just go back to being me- doing quads relentlessly and besting the Pig with ease. Reality is not so nice.

Yakov and I talked earlier, we've devised a plan for my return to practice, though not to competition. We're agreed that trying to regain my previous titles so early on would be suicide, not to mention quixotic to the point of lunacy. I'm just going back to training for this season, regaining my old strength, but sitting out the race for the Grand Prix. This irks me some, always having been one for the spotlight of achievement, but knowing that it's physically impossible for me to come back the way I need to with so little preparation. 

As for practice strategies, those have changed as well. For the rest of the week, we'll be focusing on perfecting my doubles- it will be difficult but painfully needed work. As for the next month, that'll be rebuilding my strength and getting back to the point where I can safely do triples, if only off ice. Our goal by September is to have the doubles and triples (including the Axel) remastered and consistent. Then, we'll begin quads. 

That'll be hell. 

I know this year will be awful, but at the same time, I can't wait for it, the feeling of landing a quad perfectly, being enough to keep me motivated. Skating has and will always be one of the great joys in my life. Just not the main one anymore. It can't be, and isn't, my main priority now, Sacha and Otabek always far more important.

I stretch out my leg and fly into the air, executing a double Axel. Not there yet, but better. And I can take better.

***

Hours later, and I mean hours,  I flop down onto the locker room bench, any pride forgotten and uncaring about how I look. It's evident to anyone and everyone how tired I am, and, thank god, I can assume they all pity me enough not to say anything.  Both Chris and Georgi glance at me as they trail in, but make no comment and divert their gazes.

My husband sits down beside me and looks at me with worry. "I know you said you were ready to come back," He says quietly, considerate enough to make sure no one else can hear my humiliation, "But are you sure? It's only been four months, I don't want you to kill yourself with this. We're both running on no sleep as it is, and it's hard enough for me, I can't imagine what it must be like for you- it's amazing your still standing,"

"Sitting," I mutter back, "But, yeah, I'm sure. I can do this," My voice is strong, but to be honest I'm not sure I'll be able to get up from my seat. "It'll be harder later," It's true, and currently the only reason I'm here in the first place. Otabek still looks deeply concerned, but, seeing how dead I am coupled with my determination to continue, he nods.

"Just, please be careful," 

I agree and stretch down to begin removing my skates. Unlacing them is a relief and I wipe them down tenderly before replacing them in their case. 

At this point, most people have left the locker room, and, after Otabek leaves temporarily to use the bathroom, only Yuuri and I remain. 

He doesn't say anything, but gives me a smile, and, as much as I hate myself for it, I can't help but ask,

"How do you do it?" Yuuri doesn't play dumb and answers at once, kindly.

"It was really hard," He says and comes over to me, skate bag in tow, "Without Victor, I would have died." I nod and he continues, "I had to pace myself I guess, it was so frustrating though. I wanted so badly just to get back to where I had been," This I can relate to more than he can ever know, though he definitely has a solid idea. "But I did," He says with a small smile, "It took a season or so of really hard work- god that was painful," He shakes his head lightly at the memory, "And the 'infants-never-sleep' thing didn't help, but after taking it slow, it was manageable." He turns to me, "Don't worry," He places a hand on my knee, "You'll be fine," 

"Thanks," I mutter, and we both know that I mean far more than what was said in the simple word.

We sit in silence for a few moments, momentarily comfortable in each other's presence.

"Yuri?" Both our heads snap up to see my husband re-entering, "Ready to go?" I nod,

"Yep," We start toward the door together before I turn, "Bye Yuuri," He smiles,

"Bye,"

A we walk outside, my husband shoots me a questioning glance, "Did I miss something? You were nice to him in there," I shake my head and take his hand, smiling,

"I'm just in a good mood," He smiles back and kisses me,

"I'm glad,"