Pyotr & Illyana | Family Troubles
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xp_logsPyotr gets some bad news about his parents, and convinces his sister to help him travel via Limbo Express. She surprises him by also being willing to meet their Father.
Illyana raised an eyebrow and frowned as she read the text from Pyotr. It was a simple request to come down the hall to his suite, absent any of the usual text cheer or sweetness he normally attempted with her. “Serious then,” she murmured to herself, tapping back a quick acknowledgement before switching out of loungewear. She had the feeling this conversation would need actual clothing, even if it were just the sort where they took a walk on the grounds.
Several minutes later she was tapping sharply on his door, jackfruit jerky for herself in her hoodie pocket along with a peanut butter stick for Boris.
"Enter." he said in very curt Russian, still intent on packing as much as he could into his biggest suitcase. There was no telling how long he'd be gone or what could happen. But the sooner gone, the sooner he could get there and be of assistance.
Illyana slipped into the room at the sound of his voice. “Going on trip?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe as she watched him pack. “Cold place, too. Where is Boris?”
He paused his packing for a moment to face his sister. "Have favor to ask. Big one." he said. "I expect you to say no, but have to ask anyway." he said. "Got a call from Father." he said. "There's a problem with Mama's heart. And with knee problems, not as spry as once was." he said. "They need help. Know you do not want to see them. Respect decision. But by the time I travel via planes and train, will be days before I can get there." he said simply.
"Would you be willing to take me to the outskirts? Do not need to see or speak to them, but I need to get there as soon as possible."
Illyana frowned. “How bad is heart problem?” It didn’t matter, but she was curious. “I will take you for this. I will need place to sleep before I am able to travel back. And food.”
He nodded. "Fine." he said. "Can stop off at place you like before we go, lay in supplies." he pointed out. "Can find lodging for you somewhere in town, will not need to see Father." he pointed out. "Thank you, Illyana." he said, foregoing his usual pleasantries he used for her. "Am grateful.": he said with a smile. "When you do come back, will you take care of Boris with April?" he asked. "Will ask April to slap art supplies into storage, find way to pay for it." he said, clearly thinking out loud as he resumed packing his suitcase.
“If. Big if. You think he will handle it okay, am willing to meet. If it goes poorly, will not try again.” Her voice was stern. “Let me pack small bag, let Clint know there is small emergency.” He was packing like he wouldn’t be returning at all, and she was slightly concerned. Still. She had some money from being on a team, and didn’t need much of it herself. She could pay for lodging and food, at minimum. “Will you stay indefinitely?”
"Will stay for as long as am needed." he said simply, deeply startled by her finally agreeing to meet their parents, reveal her survival. "Hoping things go well with Father. Mama's heart may not take return of daughter." he said with a twinkle in his eye. "But if burst, best to burst from joy and not sadness, da?" he said as he continued to pack clothes into his suitcase. His summer stuff, lightweight things, those he would leave here.
"Boris is American dog. Best in place where weather is mild." he said sensibly. "On the farm would not be good place." he added. "Best he stay here, with people that love and care."
Illyana blinked furiously for a second. “Must do what is best for Boris, always,” she agreed. “Do not want either heart to burst. Why I have been so reluctant to show self. Am not same child, cannot be girl they remember. You know this. But…” she breathed deeply, letting out a loud sigh. “If Mama is sick, may not get another chance. Will try. That is all I can promise.”
"All that can be asked." he said simply. “I think you will get scratchy bearhug, squeeze life from, then celebration. Maybe awkward questions, maybe not. Probably vodka." he said with a slight smirk. He had no idea if his sister could even hold her liquor. Should be, he thought with a snicker, entertaining to find out. "Oh! Anything left behind you want, please, take." he offered. "I do not know when I may return. Russia is dangerous for mutants, if word can be believed. Difficult to get proper news. Lucky for us, farm is remote. Nobody likes Siberian wilderness, least of all people that live there." he joked. "FSB is still real danger, especially for Rasputins." he cautioned his sister. "Am willing to take risk. You in America, living life here, helping people. Is best."
“Can drop FSB in Limbo,” she offered with a quirk of lips. “You will have to drink most of celebration vodka, it is not good for me to get drunk. Magic does… not good things when drunk.” She shrugged. “Sometimes wish was better at protective magic, but does not come easily.”
He looked sternly at his sister. "Need to sleep sometime. Cannot send FSB to Limbo in your sleep." he pointed out. "Anyway. Doubt FSB can quickly deploy resources to deal with Colossus." he pointed out simply. "Despite what American spies say, know that there is danger. Always. But also cannot express how happy your willingness to at least see Father, speak with him, makes me. Gives me hope." he said. "Also, will check in via text every so often." he said. "Do not hear from me, assume worst."
“True,” she mused. “Siberia is dangerous, if they send wrong agents, easy to disappear. Walking on ice, so uncertain.” She gave him a flash of wicked grin. “Do what you must to survive, keep family safe. I will not judge.”
"Should go pack warm things." he told her. "Am almost done here, and sooner gone, sooner back. Hopefully." he said. "I will worry about you. Know you are badass, as Americans say. Will worry anyway." he said with a smile. "Family is everything." he said, in the way of a private vow.
“Do not forget to leave note for roommate,” Illyana replied as she turned away. “Will be back in 10 minutes, do not have many clothes for very cold.”
Illyana was true to her word, bundling into her warmest gear and packing away some of the snacks that Clint had suggested for fast energy, along with a bottle of water. She sent him a quick text as she met back up with her brother, the two of them heading to a quiet part of the lawn away from the mansion and chapel proper to travel. “Ready? You brought sketchbooks, yes? To show things.”
"Da, da." he said, patting his suitcase that he was pulling behind him that resembled an armored car moreso a piece of luggage. "Also raided snacks drawer for Illyana chow." he said, handing her a plastic bag full of protein bars (Full of calcium! Good for the bones.) as well as Pop-Tarts of various flavors. "Also left note for X-Men, April." he said. "Everything should be OK. Spies get uppity, send to Limbo. Then again, may enjoy trip. Send them to tropical island with no civilization." he suggested.
“They would like that,” she replied sourly.
Illyana made sure her backpack was secure, then pulled Soulsword out, slashing the precise runes she’d need for this trip into the air. A portal opened in front of them, and she held a small hand out for Pyotr. “Hold on tightly to suitcase,” she said tersely. “This might get bumpy.”
He obligingly lifted up his suitcase to alleviate the bumpiness issue. He looked at her sword with some wonder as he took her hand. "Am in your hands." he said. "Next stop, Limbo. Then Russia."
The trip was a little bumpy, Illyana pushing the limit on her range. As they landed, her knees attempted to buckle, but her brother’s strong hand held her in place and gave her feet time to stabilize. “Will need to rest for an hour, eat and drink, then will be able to move us again,” she said as she ripped open an energy gel and let the tingly lemon flavor slide down her throat. “Lucky for you, earth has good energy foods, even ones that are not gross.” Her nose crinkled as she followed the gel with one of the protein bars, and she let go of Pyotr long enough to sit cross-legged on the ground. “Am going to sleep long time when we arrive in Russia.”
"Rest, Illyana Nikolievna..I will stand watch." he said, then shifted into Colossus. "When you tell me Limbo is dangerous, I listened. I will watch for demons, other dangers. Take some water, rest, regain strength. Then we move on." he said, his voice deeper and more commanding as Colossus than it usually was as Pyotr.
Illyana reached out a hand to pat his knee through the layers, slumping against his suitcase and letting her eyes fall shut. Not a full sleep, but enough of a cat nap that combined with the gel and protein bar had her refreshed enough a half hour later to sit up, drink some water, and prepare to portal again. She made sure everything was tucked securely back into her bag, then stood up with a long stretch. “Are you ready for next jump? Have coldest gear on, even though it is Siberian summer?” she asked, giving her brother a cheeky hint of a grin.
Pyotr looked down at the top of her head. "I'll be fine." he said. While she slept he thought he saw some beings lurking in the distance, one of which lurched into the air. "Should tell you. While sleeping, think I saw being in distance watching. Took to air, flew away. Probably good am leaving soon, da?" he said.
“S’ym,” she muttered. “He will not bother us, not after Namor and I came through here a few weeks ago.” That had been a delight, honestly. “Best to go, however. Do not want others to get ideas.” Illyana slipped her hand back into his, firming her shoulders. “Get ready. Hold tight.”
"If I hold tight I will turn you into jelly." he said with amusement but held onto her very lightly from his perspective, but probably just short of painful from hers. But he hoisted his suitcase and waited for her to do her thing.
“Always a comedian,” she sighed up at him, opening another portal. The perk of starting from Limbo, she didn’t need her sword and it was much easier. Cold air blew through it, and she pulled her hood up, stepping through resolutely and tugging Pyotr along behind her.
He followed her through the portal and had to stoop to keep the portal from cutting his head off.
"Ahh." he said as he set foot on Russian soil for the first time since undergrad. He looked around and shifted back to Pyotr, putting down his suitcase. "Do you need to rest or should we press on?" he asked his sister.
She ripped another gel open with her teeth and slurped it down. “I can make it to town,” she said with a yawn. “We will find me a place to sleep and you can surprise parents. Or wait until daylight, surprise them at lunch.”
"Rest first. Surprises tomorrow." he said agreeably and then started to head off through the town that had grown up around the farm. Very little had changed, save for the proliferation of data satellite dishes here and there.
It was fortunate they actually passed an ATM. Illyana pulled out enough rubles to cover a decent hotel room or two, giving Pyotr a look when he opened his mouth to protest. “Money is going to go to getting Mama well, helping at home, yes? What else will I spend money on? Snacks do not take up so much of Excalibur pay. Am not obsessed with clothes.”
Pyotr looked a touch sheepish - his X-Men salary mostly went into Boris supplies and, not surprisingly at all, art. Lots and lots of art supplies. So many. There was a hotel in town, surprisingly enough, albeit not precisely of the American style he'd become shamefully accustomed to.
She elbowed him gently. “This is small thing I can do. Perhaps can send money home sometimes too. Will not promise, but will try. Even small amount goes so much farther here.” It would not be impossible. Transfer money, stop in Muir for proper sleep, press directly into Pyotr’s hands. Visit, a bit, then return. It would be easier alone.
"Between you and parents." he said. "Am sure they would appreciate it - look around. Things look hard here." he said, gesturing expansively at the town they were walking through. He didn't know how much he'd missed small-town Siberia until now - all the signs in Russian, the people, the cars - New York was a delight but it was also a _lot_.
She raised an eyebrow as they checked into the dingy hotel, letting the comment about their parents slide until they were safely ensconced in the room. “Will probably just drop in your account, or find other way to get it to you. Do not remember much about parents, but you get pride from somewhere. Can be art commission fund.”
"Be safe about things." he cautioned her as he eyed the shabby chair, reaching out with a hand to test its sturdiness. Not good, he wasn't going to risk it. So instead he sat on the floor with a sigh. "Hungry?" he asked as his own belly rumbled a bit.
“Mostly tired,” she admitted. “And will always be safe. But you must eat, and so must they. Go, find food. I will eat protein bar, pass out on my bed. You will be quiet coming back.”
He frowned a little bit at that - he had no way of knowing if the FSB had given up surveilling the collective just because he'd gone to Moskau for university. Perhaps not wise to advertise presence too much. "Is good for bones." he pointed out with a tired smile.
“So you say. I am too tired for full meal. It will suffice. Have jerky in my backpack, if you do not want to go out. Leave me jackfruit, but meat ones were always for you. I do not eat them unless it is dire emergency.”
Pyotr, notorious protein junkie, stared at her for a second like she'd grown a second head. Then blinked and shook it off, reaching for her pack to find the aforementioned jerky. Within moments it was gone and while she fretted and settled down to sleep, he decided to work out as best he could. Bodyweight exercise only, naturally, but push-ups, crunches, and the like served to get the muscles moving.
The next morning dawned bright and cool, Illyana grumbling and pulling her blanket over her face as a sliver of sun smacked her in the eyes. “Too early,” she grouched as she heard Pyotr moving around.
Pyotr had been up for two hours so far, having worked out, showered, dressed more appropriately for the weather, and promptly ignored his stomach on the theory that if they went to visit their parents they'd get fed within an inch of their lives. "Good morning!" he said cheerfully.
“You are so cheerful. Why.” Her voice was flat, and she groaned into her blanket, resigned to actually having to wake up. “Call Papa, let him know you are bringing guest. I will get ready.”
"Is nice day outside, going to see parents for first time in literal years, plus you're coming along to reveal your survival. Is excellent day!" he said cheerfully, mostly to be obnoxious to his grumpy sister. "Will go downstairs, settle bill, call father." he promised. "You can get ready and meet me downstairs, da?"
“You are like big puppy.” She swept into the bathroom, taking care of her morning hygiene and changing into something a little less bundled up. A last glance around the room verified they weren’t forgetting anything, and she let it latch behind her, heading downstairs and joining her over-enthusiastic older sibling. “Have you called Papa yet?”
"Da. Knees are bothering him but I remember way to farm." The "even if you do not" hung in the air for a second. They headed off in the direction of the farm and were walking for a few minutes before he spoke again. "If this goes well, get your friends the spies to get you Russian papers. Clean ones." he said in a low voice. "Minimum risk."
Illyana nodded. “I will talk to Clint when I am back. He and Matthew will help me with correct ones. Will probably need to involve others, but they will do it because we are team and it is important.”
They walked quietly for a few miles, occasionally getting glimpses of water or run-down fields. “Wonder if demon dung would help fields. They look so.” She paused, trying to find the right word. “Limp with life. Barely surviving.”
He glanced at the fields she was referring to. "Da." he said with worry. "Not looking very healthy. Probably would not suggest demon dung to parents. Might be too much so early." he said with a wink and a nudge. "Also, if can, should get, how they say, fired phones? No, not right. Burner phones? Yes! Burner phones. And clean not-Pyotr papers for me." he said.
“Will trade favors for this, yes.” The burner phones would be easy. The papers… she might have to suck it up, talk to the Sefton witch. Ugh. The things she did for family. Terrible.
They rounded close to a house she only barely remembered in dreams and nightmares. Less vivid, a little more run-down. “I will wait outside.”
"Do not go far. Do not go to Limbo." he cautioned his sister, then frowned at the state of the house. It looked - run-down. Not quite in disrepair, but not nearly as loved as he remembered. But he did stop by a particular post by the front door to squat down and trace out a carving with his fingertips. Yep, still there. Misha and Pyotr, brothers-in-life. Straightening, he realized that he brought no gift. Was terribly rude!
Then remembered nervous blonde woman behind him. Suitable enough gift for anyone. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, he knocked on the door.
Illyana huffed out a quiet laugh, arms wrapped around her waist as she waited for Pyotr to talk to Papa. She was nervous, and she had no idea how she wanted this to go. Still, she waited until he reappeared, a shorter, older version of him walking stiffly alongside. She straightened up, cautiously moving forward at a glance and smile from her brother.
The old man teetered forwards, his knees clearly not in the best of shape and there was a healthy leaving of gray in his hair and beard and the decades of farm work had knotted him, but the radiant smile on his face and the tears in his eyes spoke volumes.
"Illyana?" he rasped out, heavy emotion in his voice. "Is this true?"
She nodded hesitantly, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. “It has been a very, very long time, Papa, and a longer story still,” she choked out, face pressed into his worn shirt.
Illyana raised an eyebrow and frowned as she read the text from Pyotr. It was a simple request to come down the hall to his suite, absent any of the usual text cheer or sweetness he normally attempted with her. “Serious then,” she murmured to herself, tapping back a quick acknowledgement before switching out of loungewear. She had the feeling this conversation would need actual clothing, even if it were just the sort where they took a walk on the grounds.
Several minutes later she was tapping sharply on his door, jackfruit jerky for herself in her hoodie pocket along with a peanut butter stick for Boris.
"Enter." he said in very curt Russian, still intent on packing as much as he could into his biggest suitcase. There was no telling how long he'd be gone or what could happen. But the sooner gone, the sooner he could get there and be of assistance.
Illyana slipped into the room at the sound of his voice. “Going on trip?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe as she watched him pack. “Cold place, too. Where is Boris?”
He paused his packing for a moment to face his sister. "Have favor to ask. Big one." he said. "I expect you to say no, but have to ask anyway." he said. "Got a call from Father." he said. "There's a problem with Mama's heart. And with knee problems, not as spry as once was." he said. "They need help. Know you do not want to see them. Respect decision. But by the time I travel via planes and train, will be days before I can get there." he said simply.
"Would you be willing to take me to the outskirts? Do not need to see or speak to them, but I need to get there as soon as possible."
Illyana frowned. “How bad is heart problem?” It didn’t matter, but she was curious. “I will take you for this. I will need place to sleep before I am able to travel back. And food.”
He nodded. "Fine." he said. "Can stop off at place you like before we go, lay in supplies." he pointed out. "Can find lodging for you somewhere in town, will not need to see Father." he pointed out. "Thank you, Illyana." he said, foregoing his usual pleasantries he used for her. "Am grateful.": he said with a smile. "When you do come back, will you take care of Boris with April?" he asked. "Will ask April to slap art supplies into storage, find way to pay for it." he said, clearly thinking out loud as he resumed packing his suitcase.
“If. Big if. You think he will handle it okay, am willing to meet. If it goes poorly, will not try again.” Her voice was stern. “Let me pack small bag, let Clint know there is small emergency.” He was packing like he wouldn’t be returning at all, and she was slightly concerned. Still. She had some money from being on a team, and didn’t need much of it herself. She could pay for lodging and food, at minimum. “Will you stay indefinitely?”
"Will stay for as long as am needed." he said simply, deeply startled by her finally agreeing to meet their parents, reveal her survival. "Hoping things go well with Father. Mama's heart may not take return of daughter." he said with a twinkle in his eye. "But if burst, best to burst from joy and not sadness, da?" he said as he continued to pack clothes into his suitcase. His summer stuff, lightweight things, those he would leave here.
"Boris is American dog. Best in place where weather is mild." he said sensibly. "On the farm would not be good place." he added. "Best he stay here, with people that love and care."
Illyana blinked furiously for a second. “Must do what is best for Boris, always,” she agreed. “Do not want either heart to burst. Why I have been so reluctant to show self. Am not same child, cannot be girl they remember. You know this. But…” she breathed deeply, letting out a loud sigh. “If Mama is sick, may not get another chance. Will try. That is all I can promise.”
"All that can be asked." he said simply. “I think you will get scratchy bearhug, squeeze life from, then celebration. Maybe awkward questions, maybe not. Probably vodka." he said with a slight smirk. He had no idea if his sister could even hold her liquor. Should be, he thought with a snicker, entertaining to find out. "Oh! Anything left behind you want, please, take." he offered. "I do not know when I may return. Russia is dangerous for mutants, if word can be believed. Difficult to get proper news. Lucky for us, farm is remote. Nobody likes Siberian wilderness, least of all people that live there." he joked. "FSB is still real danger, especially for Rasputins." he cautioned his sister. "Am willing to take risk. You in America, living life here, helping people. Is best."
“Can drop FSB in Limbo,” she offered with a quirk of lips. “You will have to drink most of celebration vodka, it is not good for me to get drunk. Magic does… not good things when drunk.” She shrugged. “Sometimes wish was better at protective magic, but does not come easily.”
He looked sternly at his sister. "Need to sleep sometime. Cannot send FSB to Limbo in your sleep." he pointed out. "Anyway. Doubt FSB can quickly deploy resources to deal with Colossus." he pointed out simply. "Despite what American spies say, know that there is danger. Always. But also cannot express how happy your willingness to at least see Father, speak with him, makes me. Gives me hope." he said. "Also, will check in via text every so often." he said. "Do not hear from me, assume worst."
“True,” she mused. “Siberia is dangerous, if they send wrong agents, easy to disappear. Walking on ice, so uncertain.” She gave him a flash of wicked grin. “Do what you must to survive, keep family safe. I will not judge.”
"Should go pack warm things." he told her. "Am almost done here, and sooner gone, sooner back. Hopefully." he said. "I will worry about you. Know you are badass, as Americans say. Will worry anyway." he said with a smile. "Family is everything." he said, in the way of a private vow.
“Do not forget to leave note for roommate,” Illyana replied as she turned away. “Will be back in 10 minutes, do not have many clothes for very cold.”
Illyana was true to her word, bundling into her warmest gear and packing away some of the snacks that Clint had suggested for fast energy, along with a bottle of water. She sent him a quick text as she met back up with her brother, the two of them heading to a quiet part of the lawn away from the mansion and chapel proper to travel. “Ready? You brought sketchbooks, yes? To show things.”
"Da, da." he said, patting his suitcase that he was pulling behind him that resembled an armored car moreso a piece of luggage. "Also raided snacks drawer for Illyana chow." he said, handing her a plastic bag full of protein bars (Full of calcium! Good for the bones.) as well as Pop-Tarts of various flavors. "Also left note for X-Men, April." he said. "Everything should be OK. Spies get uppity, send to Limbo. Then again, may enjoy trip. Send them to tropical island with no civilization." he suggested.
“They would like that,” she replied sourly.
Illyana made sure her backpack was secure, then pulled Soulsword out, slashing the precise runes she’d need for this trip into the air. A portal opened in front of them, and she held a small hand out for Pyotr. “Hold on tightly to suitcase,” she said tersely. “This might get bumpy.”
He obligingly lifted up his suitcase to alleviate the bumpiness issue. He looked at her sword with some wonder as he took her hand. "Am in your hands." he said. "Next stop, Limbo. Then Russia."
The trip was a little bumpy, Illyana pushing the limit on her range. As they landed, her knees attempted to buckle, but her brother’s strong hand held her in place and gave her feet time to stabilize. “Will need to rest for an hour, eat and drink, then will be able to move us again,” she said as she ripped open an energy gel and let the tingly lemon flavor slide down her throat. “Lucky for you, earth has good energy foods, even ones that are not gross.” Her nose crinkled as she followed the gel with one of the protein bars, and she let go of Pyotr long enough to sit cross-legged on the ground. “Am going to sleep long time when we arrive in Russia.”
"Rest, Illyana Nikolievna..I will stand watch." he said, then shifted into Colossus. "When you tell me Limbo is dangerous, I listened. I will watch for demons, other dangers. Take some water, rest, regain strength. Then we move on." he said, his voice deeper and more commanding as Colossus than it usually was as Pyotr.
Illyana reached out a hand to pat his knee through the layers, slumping against his suitcase and letting her eyes fall shut. Not a full sleep, but enough of a cat nap that combined with the gel and protein bar had her refreshed enough a half hour later to sit up, drink some water, and prepare to portal again. She made sure everything was tucked securely back into her bag, then stood up with a long stretch. “Are you ready for next jump? Have coldest gear on, even though it is Siberian summer?” she asked, giving her brother a cheeky hint of a grin.
Pyotr looked down at the top of her head. "I'll be fine." he said. While she slept he thought he saw some beings lurking in the distance, one of which lurched into the air. "Should tell you. While sleeping, think I saw being in distance watching. Took to air, flew away. Probably good am leaving soon, da?" he said.
“S’ym,” she muttered. “He will not bother us, not after Namor and I came through here a few weeks ago.” That had been a delight, honestly. “Best to go, however. Do not want others to get ideas.” Illyana slipped her hand back into his, firming her shoulders. “Get ready. Hold tight.”
"If I hold tight I will turn you into jelly." he said with amusement but held onto her very lightly from his perspective, but probably just short of painful from hers. But he hoisted his suitcase and waited for her to do her thing.
“Always a comedian,” she sighed up at him, opening another portal. The perk of starting from Limbo, she didn’t need her sword and it was much easier. Cold air blew through it, and she pulled her hood up, stepping through resolutely and tugging Pyotr along behind her.
He followed her through the portal and had to stoop to keep the portal from cutting his head off.
"Ahh." he said as he set foot on Russian soil for the first time since undergrad. He looked around and shifted back to Pyotr, putting down his suitcase. "Do you need to rest or should we press on?" he asked his sister.
She ripped another gel open with her teeth and slurped it down. “I can make it to town,” she said with a yawn. “We will find me a place to sleep and you can surprise parents. Or wait until daylight, surprise them at lunch.”
"Rest first. Surprises tomorrow." he said agreeably and then started to head off through the town that had grown up around the farm. Very little had changed, save for the proliferation of data satellite dishes here and there.
It was fortunate they actually passed an ATM. Illyana pulled out enough rubles to cover a decent hotel room or two, giving Pyotr a look when he opened his mouth to protest. “Money is going to go to getting Mama well, helping at home, yes? What else will I spend money on? Snacks do not take up so much of Excalibur pay. Am not obsessed with clothes.”
Pyotr looked a touch sheepish - his X-Men salary mostly went into Boris supplies and, not surprisingly at all, art. Lots and lots of art supplies. So many. There was a hotel in town, surprisingly enough, albeit not precisely of the American style he'd become shamefully accustomed to.
She elbowed him gently. “This is small thing I can do. Perhaps can send money home sometimes too. Will not promise, but will try. Even small amount goes so much farther here.” It would not be impossible. Transfer money, stop in Muir for proper sleep, press directly into Pyotr’s hands. Visit, a bit, then return. It would be easier alone.
"Between you and parents." he said. "Am sure they would appreciate it - look around. Things look hard here." he said, gesturing expansively at the town they were walking through. He didn't know how much he'd missed small-town Siberia until now - all the signs in Russian, the people, the cars - New York was a delight but it was also a _lot_.
She raised an eyebrow as they checked into the dingy hotel, letting the comment about their parents slide until they were safely ensconced in the room. “Will probably just drop in your account, or find other way to get it to you. Do not remember much about parents, but you get pride from somewhere. Can be art commission fund.”
"Be safe about things." he cautioned her as he eyed the shabby chair, reaching out with a hand to test its sturdiness. Not good, he wasn't going to risk it. So instead he sat on the floor with a sigh. "Hungry?" he asked as his own belly rumbled a bit.
“Mostly tired,” she admitted. “And will always be safe. But you must eat, and so must they. Go, find food. I will eat protein bar, pass out on my bed. You will be quiet coming back.”
He frowned a little bit at that - he had no way of knowing if the FSB had given up surveilling the collective just because he'd gone to Moskau for university. Perhaps not wise to advertise presence too much. "Is good for bones." he pointed out with a tired smile.
“So you say. I am too tired for full meal. It will suffice. Have jerky in my backpack, if you do not want to go out. Leave me jackfruit, but meat ones were always for you. I do not eat them unless it is dire emergency.”
Pyotr, notorious protein junkie, stared at her for a second like she'd grown a second head. Then blinked and shook it off, reaching for her pack to find the aforementioned jerky. Within moments it was gone and while she fretted and settled down to sleep, he decided to work out as best he could. Bodyweight exercise only, naturally, but push-ups, crunches, and the like served to get the muscles moving.
The next morning dawned bright and cool, Illyana grumbling and pulling her blanket over her face as a sliver of sun smacked her in the eyes. “Too early,” she grouched as she heard Pyotr moving around.
Pyotr had been up for two hours so far, having worked out, showered, dressed more appropriately for the weather, and promptly ignored his stomach on the theory that if they went to visit their parents they'd get fed within an inch of their lives. "Good morning!" he said cheerfully.
“You are so cheerful. Why.” Her voice was flat, and she groaned into her blanket, resigned to actually having to wake up. “Call Papa, let him know you are bringing guest. I will get ready.”
"Is nice day outside, going to see parents for first time in literal years, plus you're coming along to reveal your survival. Is excellent day!" he said cheerfully, mostly to be obnoxious to his grumpy sister. "Will go downstairs, settle bill, call father." he promised. "You can get ready and meet me downstairs, da?"
“You are like big puppy.” She swept into the bathroom, taking care of her morning hygiene and changing into something a little less bundled up. A last glance around the room verified they weren’t forgetting anything, and she let it latch behind her, heading downstairs and joining her over-enthusiastic older sibling. “Have you called Papa yet?”
"Da. Knees are bothering him but I remember way to farm." The "even if you do not" hung in the air for a second. They headed off in the direction of the farm and were walking for a few minutes before he spoke again. "If this goes well, get your friends the spies to get you Russian papers. Clean ones." he said in a low voice. "Minimum risk."
Illyana nodded. “I will talk to Clint when I am back. He and Matthew will help me with correct ones. Will probably need to involve others, but they will do it because we are team and it is important.”
They walked quietly for a few miles, occasionally getting glimpses of water or run-down fields. “Wonder if demon dung would help fields. They look so.” She paused, trying to find the right word. “Limp with life. Barely surviving.”
He glanced at the fields she was referring to. "Da." he said with worry. "Not looking very healthy. Probably would not suggest demon dung to parents. Might be too much so early." he said with a wink and a nudge. "Also, if can, should get, how they say, fired phones? No, not right. Burner phones? Yes! Burner phones. And clean not-Pyotr papers for me." he said.
“Will trade favors for this, yes.” The burner phones would be easy. The papers… she might have to suck it up, talk to the Sefton witch. Ugh. The things she did for family. Terrible.
They rounded close to a house she only barely remembered in dreams and nightmares. Less vivid, a little more run-down. “I will wait outside.”
"Do not go far. Do not go to Limbo." he cautioned his sister, then frowned at the state of the house. It looked - run-down. Not quite in disrepair, but not nearly as loved as he remembered. But he did stop by a particular post by the front door to squat down and trace out a carving with his fingertips. Yep, still there. Misha and Pyotr, brothers-in-life. Straightening, he realized that he brought no gift. Was terribly rude!
Then remembered nervous blonde woman behind him. Suitable enough gift for anyone. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, he knocked on the door.
Illyana huffed out a quiet laugh, arms wrapped around her waist as she waited for Pyotr to talk to Papa. She was nervous, and she had no idea how she wanted this to go. Still, she waited until he reappeared, a shorter, older version of him walking stiffly alongside. She straightened up, cautiously moving forward at a glance and smile from her brother.
The old man teetered forwards, his knees clearly not in the best of shape and there was a healthy leaving of gray in his hair and beard and the decades of farm work had knotted him, but the radiant smile on his face and the tears in his eyes spoke volumes.
"Illyana?" he rasped out, heavy emotion in his voice. "Is this true?"
She nodded hesitantly, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. “It has been a very, very long time, Papa, and a longer story still,” she choked out, face pressed into his worn shirt.
