Pyotr and Illyana - Siblings Reunite
Nov. 29th, 2022 06:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsPyotr invites Illyana to come and talk, to catch up. There are spider-themed tissue boxes, a sleeping Boris, and tears shed.
And hugs. So many hugs. Illyana's really starting to detest being hugged.
Pyotr had spent far more time than he had intended to making sure both he and his space were presentable. Fresh shower, clean stylish clothes, vacuumed and dusted and dishes washed, Boris played with and fed and watered so he would probably just sleep through things, he was working himself into a frenzy before he finally stopped, sighed, and decided things were good enough. He'd even dragged the memory chest out of the closet and he was fairly certain she was going to not take it in the spirit it was intended. Still, it was important for him to let her know that she was missed when she was gone.
Picking up his phone he tapped out a quick text message to his baby sister to invite her over. Now all there was to do was wait.
Illyana saw the text and wondered briefly if she was ready for this, deciding that no, not really. The longer she waited the more anxious she was getting, wondering if anyone had filled Pyotr in at all on her younger adventures here. If they hadn’t before, they probably hadn’t in the few days since she returned, right? She texted back, pushing herself upright and into the closet.
The deal with Artie and her own inability to care what she was wearing had proved useful, since she now had more than just the two shirts and single pair of pants she’d arrived with. She changed and dragged a brush through her hair, then went down the hallway.
She rapped her knuckles on the door with a few sharp taps.
"It's open." he said in Russian as he was petting a sleeping Boris. Dogs were soothing creatures, especially when asleep. When Boris was up and wanted to play, he was very much the opposite of serene or soothing.
Illyana pushed the door open and slipped in, closing it behind her. Everything was… very clean.
The sight of Pyotr with a dog pulled a small smile from her. “Is cute dog,” she remarked, crossing into the living room and sitting at the other end of the couch from him. “What kind?”
"Rescue." he said, petting the sleeping Boris between his ears. "Nice to see you've found something new to wear." he said with a smile. "Looks nice."
“Made deal with Artie,” she said briefly. “Cash for future favor, information.” She reached out a cautious hand, scratching carefully along the dog’s back. “What is dog name? Cannot just keep calling it dog in head.”
"Boris." he said, and then sighed. "You made deal. With spy." he said with obvious disappointment. "Should tell you why I think this was very bad idea."
"Go ahead,” Illyana replied, giving him an airy wave of her hand. “Boris is very good boy, yes,” she murmured, focusing on running a hand through the soft, curly fur. “Favor has many limits. Not dangerous for me, no murder, not making deals with demons. Will be fine. And would give them some information regardless. Money for it is better, do not have qualifications to get good job here. Would drop rude people in Limbo.”
He couldn't help but smile at that. "April tells Boris he is best boy. Am not sure of that, but is very good most of the time." he told his sleepy pet who was accepting the pets as his due. "So. Deals. You were just a babe at the time, but FSB sent man to the collective. Keeping eye on Misha's family - our family - because such things run in families, da?" he said. "Was very bad man. Made much personal wealth from collective, from our parents, to keep silent." he said simply. "Protect me, protect you. Price paid willingly, but once a spy takes a favor, it _does not stop_."
“Will be fine,” Illyana repeated. “Do not think you were told much about what happened to land me here first time. Was kidnapped from home by demon named Belasco. Used little girls as sacrifices trying to summon bigger, badder demons. Old ones. Ones that make Baba Yaga myth look like sweet fairy. Spent… many years there. More than passed up here, but still looked right age once I finally escaped.” She gave Pyotr a slow, considering look, a bit of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Limbo hard like old stories. Dangerous. Not for children. Do not like talking about what was done, but am not scared of favor with spies. Have my own secrets to keep self safe.”
Pyotr nodded. "Am not little girl anymore." he said. "Have to trust judgment. Just offering perspective." he said. "And speaking of perspective - am going to mock me for weeks now - I have something for you." he said. "Would you like to see it?"
“I understand. Lived many years in place where one favor became bad thing, trap. Have the power to prevent that now, make others follow contract as stated.” She gave Pyotr a tentative smile. “Would like to see this thing you have, yes.”
At her smile, as tentative as it was, he lit up like the sun. He stood up then stepped briskly into his sleeping chambers to re-emerge a moment or two later holding an enormous steamer trunk. He put it on the floor by her. "There." he said. "Wanted to give you some things so you could remember." he offered. "Or, if you never returned, so that I could remember."
“That is lot of somethings,” Illyana replied. She opened the lid cautiously - she didn’t think there would be anything dangerous in it, but you never knew - and breathed in sharply at the image of her younger self staring back. “Tell me about things in here.” It wasn’t a request, but her hand trembled slightly as she touched the edge of the painting. She didn’t want to cry on things. Or accidentally mess them up. “Please.”
"Not sure if you remember, but I draw. Paint. Do art." he said. "A lot of it from memory. So I wanted to capture our family how I remember them best." he said. And sure enough, there was their parents side-by-side, their eldest brother in his full cosmonaut uniform, Misha in his flight suit, Misha and his little brotherly shadow, sketches and even full paintings of the collective farm, the fields in bloom. "So I never wanted to forget. To let the memory fade to time." he said simply. "So - yes. Someone remembers that little girl before she went away." he added. "Who loved the world, loved her family, and had such bright smiles."
“Am not - cannot be that little girl anymore.” Illyana looked at Pyotr with something like grief. “Too much has happened. Have seen things… would not wish them on anyone. Cannot give you that sister back. I am sorry.”
Pyotr blinked back tears. "Oh, I know." he said with a small laugh. "You grew up on me. Am not wishing … much … for the past to come back. You're who and what you are now. Will have to get to know this new you, who remembers her big brother but has been through so much, so much no little girl - no-one - should have to go through. He then shot his sister a little side-eye.
"Cannot be innocent little girl anymore. Hear it told, came out as defensive raging bitch." he said with another short laugh. "That Illyana, enhh. Maybe a little less?" he asked.
“Did not want to be here, do stupid school, did not understand anything.” Illyana’s mouth had taken on a distinct scowl. “Other magic users mostly stupid, adults stupid, always something dangerous. Was scared all the time.” She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned back. “Still do not understand a lot about things up here, but not as scared anymore. Older. Know a little more, know cannot avoid Limbo forever. Have power to enforce deals. Is more even now.”
"Not anywhere as close as you but I moved to the Great Satan to pursue dream of art." he said. "Knew nothing of America outside of pop culture. Did university in Moscow, got to experience a lot more than back on the farm." he said. "Am _not_ going to share those stories, take enough teasing already." he said with a mock-stern look. "Stupid school may be stupid, but can learn things here no demon can teach." he pointed out. "Fill in gaps, blend in." he said, then he eyed his sister up and down. "Will have to feed you more. Look at you, skinny little slip of wizard nothing." he teased.
Illyana’s eyes went big. “Pelmeni? Solyanka? Medovik?” The waif look was good for people stuffing her full of okay to great food, and she wasn’t above using it to get the good stuff. “Many blini.” She shook her finger at Pyotr in somewhat mock disgust. “No more school. Got GED, is enough. Video about drug dealers not even correct.”
"Call it "Catching Up On What You Missed For Illyana Nikolaievna" then." he suggested. "I also have picked up hobby of cooking. Mama was thrilled." he said. "Am going to be cooking for spies, gratitude for arrangement. No favors!" he said, wagging his finger. "Am going to get agent, help with stupid parts of art business, leave me free to paint." he said. "Is now I make spending money." he said, then paused. "Still think too skinny. Western women, pff! Blow away in strong breeze. We're from Siberia." he pointed out rather redundantly.
Illyana arched an eyebrow. “Russian women also skinny, I have the googles,” she pointed out. “I know what stuff is. Sometimes. But things weird here, if someone says they have demons would rather stab first, find out is bad joke later.”
"Russian women catering to Western looks." he said with a sniff of disdain, then a grin. "Seriously, no good meals in Limbo? Probably not." he said. "Well, Mama has satellite Internet now and she knows many things on cooking good Russian food." he said. "Will not tell her about your return until you're ready. But I think they deserve to know. Are used to weirdness, all children mutants in Rasputin generation!" he said.
“Fight for everything in Limbo, even food. Also have said time is… not same? Probably has effect. Also limited money, do not just want to hold hand out. Is not way things work.” She shrugged. “Did not remember anything else after some time. Could not afford to remember.” She wasn’t ready to tell Pyotr about Belasco imitating her various family members as a child. Might not ever be ready. “Run and fight and hide. Survive. Is best I could do.”
Pyotr took a deep breath to get a hold of himself. Getting all pissed off now wasn't going to do anyone any good. But there was a haunted look in her eyes that broke his heart every time he saw it. "Now I understand you run the place, da?" he asked.
“That is idea, yes. Demon keeps seat warm while I am up here, but he is tricky, has ideas above his station. Have to go back sometimes, remind him why I am in charge.” She grinned, a sly little thing. “Magic is much stronger there, can do things that would be impossible here. More things. Not limited to little magics and searching.”
"Maybe someday I will go with you. Meet this seat-warmer. Explain a few things." he said with a rare almost savage smile on his face. The kind of smile Illyana used to see in the mirror in the morning when she was younger.
She flicked him lightly with her fingertips. “Cannot go around fighting everyone, need good minions so I am not stuck in Limbo.” It was a gentle scold. “He will learn place and enjoy it or I will teach him error of his ways.”
"If you say so." he said agreeably, then nudged the trunk towards her a little more. "Lots of stuff in there. Was sure going to be treated like sap, mocked for sentimentality." he said. "If are, doing excellent job of keeping it to self."
“Are biggest sap I know,” Illyana agreed. “Do not want to ruin anything in trunk. Am worried will tear. Or get wet.”
"Ah, but Big Brother comes prepared!" he said, handing her over a box of tissues from the end-table next to the couch. They were spider-patterned, likely April's doing, but she'd forgive him.
“Spiders, brother?” She smiled at the box of tissues and slid to the floor so she could go through the box easier. “You were not kidding about pictures,” she remarked as she slowly started moving through the images. “And what is… university announcement?” Her Russian was somewhat halting, but the longer she looked at the letters the more it made sense. “Newspaper - is about Mikhail? You know I do not remember him.” She propped the first sketchbook in her lap, flipping the pages slowly. “Is a lot of Mama and Papa in here. I recognize still, saw them when scrying. You too, is part of why I came back here.”
"When and if came back, wanted to make sure could know parents." he said with a modest shrug. "Misha, too. You came back, maybe biggest bro could as well. Crazier things have happened." he added. "But anyway. Wanted to document things over the years, capture memories."
“Is good. I -” She grabbed one of the tissues, dabbing at her eyes. “I am glad that you are willing to share memories. Was not sure how you would handle demon sister. Happy you are willing to try.”
"Pfft." he said. "Demon sister is what did to survive. Not who you are." he said confidently. "Will just take time to balance demon bitch-queen and young woman." he said confidently, meaning every word. "I checked. Demons don't _care_, snowflake. Can't. Can fake it, can lie, but always falls apart.":
“Limbo changes you. Twists. Longer you stay there.” Illyana opened up the locket around her neck, a single red gem glinting darkly in the light. “Almost two still in body. One in necklace. Can you still support sister missing two parts of soul? Is a lot to ask. Some days, am closer to demon than human. Always, is battle. Fierce. Pulling and tugging to get me to submit, give in. Is hard to resist.”
He hrmmed at that. "Never did believe in soul as tangible object." he admitted. "Apparently am wrong. Learned something today." he said. "Even if no gems, are still baby sister. Nothing changes that. Will always support you, unless, how they say, break bad? Yes. That. But not going to happen. Soul, missing bits of soul, still Illyana. Still family."
"Is real thing. Must be careful, guard it fiercely. One of main ways demons like to hurt humans." The locket snapped closed, tucked away under her shirt. She gave Pyotr a tremulous smile. "Thank you for giving me chance."
"Things must have been bad in Limbo if believed that big brother would not always love." he commented, then leaned over to steal a hug.
“It is not nice place. But is what I knew. Was so young when I was taken, sometimes was not sure if good times were actual memories or just mind playing tricks.” Illyana was stiff in his arms, still unused to touching, but as he held on without squishing she slowly relaxed. It was nice, hugging. Maybe.
Her arms didn’t quite fit around him, once she tried to return the gesture, but she squeezed his side lightly. “So much hugging, always,” she groused, but the smile hinting at the corners of her mouth was fond.
Pyotr looked betrayed for just a moment. "Used to love hugs! Papa used to joke that would lose use of legs, carried and hugged so often." he said with a small laugh.
“Was little girl then,” Illyana retorted. “Am adult now or something. Do not feel like one, but also have not felt like child in many years.”
"Suppose not. But still, good memories should be treasured, no?" he asked her carefully. "Light in the darkness, that sort of thing."
“When you can trust your mind, yes.” It was the most of a concession Illyana could make. “Pockets of refuge are tangible thing.”
"I know nothing of such things, but professor is powerful telepath. Can look for lingering pockets of bad or something? Do not know. Might be possible." he mused. "Should shut up now, speaking of things know nothing about." he said with a wry look. "Important thing is, here now, returned, and if not all you, enough you to love and be loved in return."
Illyana couldn’t help the eye roll. That sort of sentiment… it was a lucky thing for Pyotr that she tried to save doing harm for those who deserved it. If Limbo had twisted her just a little more… “You are giant sap still, big man who run in front of tractor without caution.”
He made a dismissive noise. "Was old tractor. Needed replacing. Happy to smash it." he said with a smile.
And hugs. So many hugs. Illyana's really starting to detest being hugged.
Pyotr had spent far more time than he had intended to making sure both he and his space were presentable. Fresh shower, clean stylish clothes, vacuumed and dusted and dishes washed, Boris played with and fed and watered so he would probably just sleep through things, he was working himself into a frenzy before he finally stopped, sighed, and decided things were good enough. He'd even dragged the memory chest out of the closet and he was fairly certain she was going to not take it in the spirit it was intended. Still, it was important for him to let her know that she was missed when she was gone.
Picking up his phone he tapped out a quick text message to his baby sister to invite her over. Now all there was to do was wait.
Illyana saw the text and wondered briefly if she was ready for this, deciding that no, not really. The longer she waited the more anxious she was getting, wondering if anyone had filled Pyotr in at all on her younger adventures here. If they hadn’t before, they probably hadn’t in the few days since she returned, right? She texted back, pushing herself upright and into the closet.
The deal with Artie and her own inability to care what she was wearing had proved useful, since she now had more than just the two shirts and single pair of pants she’d arrived with. She changed and dragged a brush through her hair, then went down the hallway.
She rapped her knuckles on the door with a few sharp taps.
"It's open." he said in Russian as he was petting a sleeping Boris. Dogs were soothing creatures, especially when asleep. When Boris was up and wanted to play, he was very much the opposite of serene or soothing.
Illyana pushed the door open and slipped in, closing it behind her. Everything was… very clean.
The sight of Pyotr with a dog pulled a small smile from her. “Is cute dog,” she remarked, crossing into the living room and sitting at the other end of the couch from him. “What kind?”
"Rescue." he said, petting the sleeping Boris between his ears. "Nice to see you've found something new to wear." he said with a smile. "Looks nice."
“Made deal with Artie,” she said briefly. “Cash for future favor, information.” She reached out a cautious hand, scratching carefully along the dog’s back. “What is dog name? Cannot just keep calling it dog in head.”
"Boris." he said, and then sighed. "You made deal. With spy." he said with obvious disappointment. "Should tell you why I think this was very bad idea."
"Go ahead,” Illyana replied, giving him an airy wave of her hand. “Boris is very good boy, yes,” she murmured, focusing on running a hand through the soft, curly fur. “Favor has many limits. Not dangerous for me, no murder, not making deals with demons. Will be fine. And would give them some information regardless. Money for it is better, do not have qualifications to get good job here. Would drop rude people in Limbo.”
He couldn't help but smile at that. "April tells Boris he is best boy. Am not sure of that, but is very good most of the time." he told his sleepy pet who was accepting the pets as his due. "So. Deals. You were just a babe at the time, but FSB sent man to the collective. Keeping eye on Misha's family - our family - because such things run in families, da?" he said. "Was very bad man. Made much personal wealth from collective, from our parents, to keep silent." he said simply. "Protect me, protect you. Price paid willingly, but once a spy takes a favor, it _does not stop_."
“Will be fine,” Illyana repeated. “Do not think you were told much about what happened to land me here first time. Was kidnapped from home by demon named Belasco. Used little girls as sacrifices trying to summon bigger, badder demons. Old ones. Ones that make Baba Yaga myth look like sweet fairy. Spent… many years there. More than passed up here, but still looked right age once I finally escaped.” She gave Pyotr a slow, considering look, a bit of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Limbo hard like old stories. Dangerous. Not for children. Do not like talking about what was done, but am not scared of favor with spies. Have my own secrets to keep self safe.”
Pyotr nodded. "Am not little girl anymore." he said. "Have to trust judgment. Just offering perspective." he said. "And speaking of perspective - am going to mock me for weeks now - I have something for you." he said. "Would you like to see it?"
“I understand. Lived many years in place where one favor became bad thing, trap. Have the power to prevent that now, make others follow contract as stated.” She gave Pyotr a tentative smile. “Would like to see this thing you have, yes.”
At her smile, as tentative as it was, he lit up like the sun. He stood up then stepped briskly into his sleeping chambers to re-emerge a moment or two later holding an enormous steamer trunk. He put it on the floor by her. "There." he said. "Wanted to give you some things so you could remember." he offered. "Or, if you never returned, so that I could remember."
“That is lot of somethings,” Illyana replied. She opened the lid cautiously - she didn’t think there would be anything dangerous in it, but you never knew - and breathed in sharply at the image of her younger self staring back. “Tell me about things in here.” It wasn’t a request, but her hand trembled slightly as she touched the edge of the painting. She didn’t want to cry on things. Or accidentally mess them up. “Please.”
"Not sure if you remember, but I draw. Paint. Do art." he said. "A lot of it from memory. So I wanted to capture our family how I remember them best." he said. And sure enough, there was their parents side-by-side, their eldest brother in his full cosmonaut uniform, Misha in his flight suit, Misha and his little brotherly shadow, sketches and even full paintings of the collective farm, the fields in bloom. "So I never wanted to forget. To let the memory fade to time." he said simply. "So - yes. Someone remembers that little girl before she went away." he added. "Who loved the world, loved her family, and had such bright smiles."
“Am not - cannot be that little girl anymore.” Illyana looked at Pyotr with something like grief. “Too much has happened. Have seen things… would not wish them on anyone. Cannot give you that sister back. I am sorry.”
Pyotr blinked back tears. "Oh, I know." he said with a small laugh. "You grew up on me. Am not wishing … much … for the past to come back. You're who and what you are now. Will have to get to know this new you, who remembers her big brother but has been through so much, so much no little girl - no-one - should have to go through. He then shot his sister a little side-eye.
"Cannot be innocent little girl anymore. Hear it told, came out as defensive raging bitch." he said with another short laugh. "That Illyana, enhh. Maybe a little less?" he asked.
“Did not want to be here, do stupid school, did not understand anything.” Illyana’s mouth had taken on a distinct scowl. “Other magic users mostly stupid, adults stupid, always something dangerous. Was scared all the time.” She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned back. “Still do not understand a lot about things up here, but not as scared anymore. Older. Know a little more, know cannot avoid Limbo forever. Have power to enforce deals. Is more even now.”
"Not anywhere as close as you but I moved to the Great Satan to pursue dream of art." he said. "Knew nothing of America outside of pop culture. Did university in Moscow, got to experience a lot more than back on the farm." he said. "Am _not_ going to share those stories, take enough teasing already." he said with a mock-stern look. "Stupid school may be stupid, but can learn things here no demon can teach." he pointed out. "Fill in gaps, blend in." he said, then he eyed his sister up and down. "Will have to feed you more. Look at you, skinny little slip of wizard nothing." he teased.
Illyana’s eyes went big. “Pelmeni? Solyanka? Medovik?” The waif look was good for people stuffing her full of okay to great food, and she wasn’t above using it to get the good stuff. “Many blini.” She shook her finger at Pyotr in somewhat mock disgust. “No more school. Got GED, is enough. Video about drug dealers not even correct.”
"Call it "Catching Up On What You Missed For Illyana Nikolaievna" then." he suggested. "I also have picked up hobby of cooking. Mama was thrilled." he said. "Am going to be cooking for spies, gratitude for arrangement. No favors!" he said, wagging his finger. "Am going to get agent, help with stupid parts of art business, leave me free to paint." he said. "Is now I make spending money." he said, then paused. "Still think too skinny. Western women, pff! Blow away in strong breeze. We're from Siberia." he pointed out rather redundantly.
Illyana arched an eyebrow. “Russian women also skinny, I have the googles,” she pointed out. “I know what stuff is. Sometimes. But things weird here, if someone says they have demons would rather stab first, find out is bad joke later.”
"Russian women catering to Western looks." he said with a sniff of disdain, then a grin. "Seriously, no good meals in Limbo? Probably not." he said. "Well, Mama has satellite Internet now and she knows many things on cooking good Russian food." he said. "Will not tell her about your return until you're ready. But I think they deserve to know. Are used to weirdness, all children mutants in Rasputin generation!" he said.
“Fight for everything in Limbo, even food. Also have said time is… not same? Probably has effect. Also limited money, do not just want to hold hand out. Is not way things work.” She shrugged. “Did not remember anything else after some time. Could not afford to remember.” She wasn’t ready to tell Pyotr about Belasco imitating her various family members as a child. Might not ever be ready. “Run and fight and hide. Survive. Is best I could do.”
Pyotr took a deep breath to get a hold of himself. Getting all pissed off now wasn't going to do anyone any good. But there was a haunted look in her eyes that broke his heart every time he saw it. "Now I understand you run the place, da?" he asked.
“That is idea, yes. Demon keeps seat warm while I am up here, but he is tricky, has ideas above his station. Have to go back sometimes, remind him why I am in charge.” She grinned, a sly little thing. “Magic is much stronger there, can do things that would be impossible here. More things. Not limited to little magics and searching.”
"Maybe someday I will go with you. Meet this seat-warmer. Explain a few things." he said with a rare almost savage smile on his face. The kind of smile Illyana used to see in the mirror in the morning when she was younger.
She flicked him lightly with her fingertips. “Cannot go around fighting everyone, need good minions so I am not stuck in Limbo.” It was a gentle scold. “He will learn place and enjoy it or I will teach him error of his ways.”
"If you say so." he said agreeably, then nudged the trunk towards her a little more. "Lots of stuff in there. Was sure going to be treated like sap, mocked for sentimentality." he said. "If are, doing excellent job of keeping it to self."
“Are biggest sap I know,” Illyana agreed. “Do not want to ruin anything in trunk. Am worried will tear. Or get wet.”
"Ah, but Big Brother comes prepared!" he said, handing her over a box of tissues from the end-table next to the couch. They were spider-patterned, likely April's doing, but she'd forgive him.
“Spiders, brother?” She smiled at the box of tissues and slid to the floor so she could go through the box easier. “You were not kidding about pictures,” she remarked as she slowly started moving through the images. “And what is… university announcement?” Her Russian was somewhat halting, but the longer she looked at the letters the more it made sense. “Newspaper - is about Mikhail? You know I do not remember him.” She propped the first sketchbook in her lap, flipping the pages slowly. “Is a lot of Mama and Papa in here. I recognize still, saw them when scrying. You too, is part of why I came back here.”
"When and if came back, wanted to make sure could know parents." he said with a modest shrug. "Misha, too. You came back, maybe biggest bro could as well. Crazier things have happened." he added. "But anyway. Wanted to document things over the years, capture memories."
“Is good. I -” She grabbed one of the tissues, dabbing at her eyes. “I am glad that you are willing to share memories. Was not sure how you would handle demon sister. Happy you are willing to try.”
"Pfft." he said. "Demon sister is what did to survive. Not who you are." he said confidently. "Will just take time to balance demon bitch-queen and young woman." he said confidently, meaning every word. "I checked. Demons don't _care_, snowflake. Can't. Can fake it, can lie, but always falls apart.":
“Limbo changes you. Twists. Longer you stay there.” Illyana opened up the locket around her neck, a single red gem glinting darkly in the light. “Almost two still in body. One in necklace. Can you still support sister missing two parts of soul? Is a lot to ask. Some days, am closer to demon than human. Always, is battle. Fierce. Pulling and tugging to get me to submit, give in. Is hard to resist.”
He hrmmed at that. "Never did believe in soul as tangible object." he admitted. "Apparently am wrong. Learned something today." he said. "Even if no gems, are still baby sister. Nothing changes that. Will always support you, unless, how they say, break bad? Yes. That. But not going to happen. Soul, missing bits of soul, still Illyana. Still family."
"Is real thing. Must be careful, guard it fiercely. One of main ways demons like to hurt humans." The locket snapped closed, tucked away under her shirt. She gave Pyotr a tremulous smile. "Thank you for giving me chance."
"Things must have been bad in Limbo if believed that big brother would not always love." he commented, then leaned over to steal a hug.
“It is not nice place. But is what I knew. Was so young when I was taken, sometimes was not sure if good times were actual memories or just mind playing tricks.” Illyana was stiff in his arms, still unused to touching, but as he held on without squishing she slowly relaxed. It was nice, hugging. Maybe.
Her arms didn’t quite fit around him, once she tried to return the gesture, but she squeezed his side lightly. “So much hugging, always,” she groused, but the smile hinting at the corners of her mouth was fond.
Pyotr looked betrayed for just a moment. "Used to love hugs! Papa used to joke that would lose use of legs, carried and hugged so often." he said with a small laugh.
“Was little girl then,” Illyana retorted. “Am adult now or something. Do not feel like one, but also have not felt like child in many years.”
"Suppose not. But still, good memories should be treasured, no?" he asked her carefully. "Light in the darkness, that sort of thing."
“When you can trust your mind, yes.” It was the most of a concession Illyana could make. “Pockets of refuge are tangible thing.”
"I know nothing of such things, but professor is powerful telepath. Can look for lingering pockets of bad or something? Do not know. Might be possible." he mused. "Should shut up now, speaking of things know nothing about." he said with a wry look. "Important thing is, here now, returned, and if not all you, enough you to love and be loved in return."
Illyana couldn’t help the eye roll. That sort of sentiment… it was a lucky thing for Pyotr that she tried to save doing harm for those who deserved it. If Limbo had twisted her just a little more… “You are giant sap still, big man who run in front of tractor without caution.”
He made a dismissive noise. "Was old tractor. Needed replacing. Happy to smash it." he said with a smile.
