21. Vlad

I'm pacing.

If I stay still, I'll think.

If I think, I'll spiral, and fate will make it come true.

As long as I move, Inessa is fine, she's just behind the doors being cut open, but fine.

The baby is okay.

Not blue.

Even though the floors are blue, they won't be.

I keep pacing as though I can remove the color from existence.

Not blue.

It repeats in my head like a cyclone.

Everyone is sitting behind me just staring into space. Maximoff's disapproving stare is drilling into the back of my head. He can go fuck himself. Inessa is his granddaughter, but she is my wife. Even if she doesn't want to be and won't be for much longer. A divorce won't change her title to me. I'll do what I have been since she moved, giving her everything I can silently. Watching her from afar and stealing pockets of peace without disturbing hers.

Turning to start a new rotation, a doctor makes his way to me, and I stop. There are no emotions in his expression to give away what he's going to say. But she's not dead, I'd know already. Her presence is too big for there not to be some change in the atmosphere to mourn her.I would fucking know.

You didn't know last time.

I ignore history telling me I'm wrong — I would fucking know.

He speaks slowly, carefully, as he directs me to the side, unable to meet my eyes.

"Your wife has lost a lot a blood and we've started infusions. Your daughter is in the progressive care nursery if you would like to see her."

Nodding along, I'm not taking any information in because he hasn't said they're alive.

"They'll be okay?"

He smiles, but it's sad, and refuses to offer any promises.

"We're doing everything we can for your wife. Your daughter is four pounds and two ounces, a healthy weight for her size."

One moment, I'm trying to gather the information because he didn't say ‘yes, they are alive' like he should have. The next, he's choking, and I can see my hand around his neck. But I'm not in my body, and someone grabs my arm, pulling me into it and forcing me to look down. I expect to see Inessa rolling her eyes, telling me not to kill anyone. Instead, Valentin holds me back and I don't realize I'd raised my other hand. He pulls my fist back from meeting the doctor's face and speaks with maturity he doesn't possess.

"You can go do your job and make sure my sister pulls through. Vlad, let him go."

Fuck, my hand is still around his neck.

My fingers loosen as I let the doctor go. His face is already red, and he chokes down air as my brother does what I can't. There's no tantrum and he acts like a fucking adult, making everything weird as fuck. I can't breathe and I'm hyperaware of everyone around me forcing me to remain standing. I could breathe when I was pacing, but this dick forced me to stay still, and everything is slamming into me.

I should have kept moving, she would have been okay.

If I ran faster, she would have been okay.

Valentin received the same information I did, but he somehow manages to make sense of it and allows the doctor to walk away. Turning to me, he nods his head towards the hall. I follow him to keep moving, and he waits until we're alone to speak.

"Go see your daughter. It's not right that she's alone," he says softly.

My fucked up brain doesn't make sense of his words and I'm about to question him when he points towards wherever the doctor said.

"Go, man, she doesn't have anyone while they're helping Inessa,"he urges again.

I can't make my feet move. If it was to fight or to kill someone, it would be easy. Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I delegate. "Sit with her. Make sure they're doing what they should to help until Inessa's ready. One of them cunts so much as makes her murmur, kill the fucker."

He looks me up and down with his lip curled up then shakes his head and scoffs, "You're a prick."

There's no other argument and he does what he's told while I go back to my pacing.

They'll both be okay. I'll handpick guards and train them. They'll move back in, and I'll move to another floor so they're never alone and they'll both be safe.As long as I keep moving, they'll be okay.

* * *

It'sthe second instance of me sitting at my wife's hospital bedside, but she's not conscious this time. The machine beeping only shows one heart rate and the looks of disgust have multiplied. Between my swollen hands and her bruised face, the dumb fucks have painted me as the artist behind her tapestry of blues and purples.I would never be able to raise a finger to her, never mind actually cause her pain.

My brain has altered to make her voice the internal argument, telling me I already have hurt her. Taking her hand, I trace the brand I placed on her ring finger. She can't get rid of me, I'm on her skin. I'll be there to watch them, no one will get near them. Not me, or anyone else. They'll be locked away like true royalty and only experience the world high up from a balcony.

Her hands aren't as warm, so I take them both and hold them between mine.

"Wake up, meelaya, I'll leave your life if you open your eyes."

Not blue.

Her heart is beating, I can see the proof of it. But she's lost too much blood, all because I was wrong and didn't kill that fucker years ago. She would have been safe. She should have been safe. She is at the top of the hierarchy for fuck's sake.

The door opens, and I sit taller as Ana pokes her head through. She whispers as though Inessa is asleep rather than refusing to come out from the anesthetic.

"Maximoff has asked for you."

My body is stiff after not moving for so long, and I stand with my wife's voice in my head telling me not to ruin the relationship with her grandfather. If he attempts to suggest that they be moved again, I'll have to kill him. They're not going to his preferred hospital, they're both mine and it's my responsibility.

Ana switches places with me like a guard and I don't know who she's talking to as I pick up her whispering, "Hmm, yeah. It's not like the other times."

The pipsqueak is a freak, hellish. She belongs to some old-timey underground circus rather than normal society but she's violent enough to stop anyone getting close to Inessa, so I leave the room. The entire floor is empty save for our guards and the nurse's station is deathly silent as I stand there, refusing any emotion.

Maximoff doesn't stand as the Pakhan, he's the grandfather and his tone is harsher than when dealing with business.

"If any harm comes to my family, your name will be written out of existence."

I've never responded well to threats, and I get larger, knowing the new addition carries my name.

"My wife and daughter have my name, don't allow your tongue to weave your end," I say without moving my eyes from his.

His brows come together as he loses some of his anger rather than killing me for the disrespect of his position. It's slow and still menacing as he smiles to himself.

"I knew this would be a good match. Protect them both," with the order given, he turns around and fucks off.

Knowing everyone has left with it being the middle of the night and that Ana is sitting with Inessa, I remain rooted to the spot.

Five steps to the doors, turn left, four steps to the next ward.

There's no one to witness what will destroy me, so it should be safe. None of the nurses pick their head up as I count my steps and move on autopilot to the room our daughter is in. I stare straight ahead as my body battles to go backwards, to move further away from her, before I end up ruining her too. But she's alone. She shouldn't be alone; she should be with her mother.

The smell of clinical disinfectant stops permeating the air as I gently push through the doors of her empty ward. Dima stands guard beside the last set of doors, and he stretches his arm out as he whispers, "Val left twenty minutes ago, there's no one inside."

Why is everyone whispering? Or am I drowning out the world and unable to hear their normal volume?

There's no accusation in his eyes and I pause. My hands are still pink, blood staining them and they're swollen. The NICU rules aren't what force my feet to move to the sink stationed outside the doors, it's the pink.

Washing my hands three times, I make sure there's no pink left on my skin even though I won't touch her. I can't hold her.

I won't ever hear her call me papa.

I'll just sit there and make sure she's breathing, then tell Inessa, so she can open her eyes. I repeat the movements of washing my hands to delay turning and seeing the lights shining down on her like she's some fucking experiment through the window separating her from the hall. Unease crawls up my spine with the sight in my periphery.

She won't be blue, she'll be fine. Small but perfect.

Forcing myself to turn around, each step is like walking through lava, but I don't leave. Dima soundlessly opens the door and I keep moving as the world blurs. Just until Inessa wakes up, I remind myself. I won't get attached to what I can't keep. But seeing her little red, wrinkled face has my hands shaking. She's too small and she doesn't even have a name. She should have a name.

I keep moving closer despite how my stomach aches and my hand does the same until it's through the hole at the side of her crib. My throat burns, making my voice rough.

"I know you're new to the world, but I need you to do something for me, malen'kaya koroleva."

She should never have any harshness around her, she should be spoilt and stubborn. Her little face scrunches, already unhappy with being told what to do like her mother.

"I need you to be safe and healthy for me, okay? You can do anything else you want after that."

She lets out a warble in protest, stretching her fingers out, and I move on autopilot. Lifting the top of her crib, she's in my arms before I can blink, and I adjust the hat on her head to cover her fully, so her ears aren't cold.

She settles straight away as I hum bayu bayushki and wrap the extra blankets around her. I'm fucked, this little thing fits in one of my hands, but she's got me wrapped around her wrinkly little finger. My lips brush the fabric covering her head without any pressure as I rub circles on her back with two fingers.

"Prosti malyshonuk, ya tebya lyublyu1."

I can't be here, and I can't move away. Every part of me wants to run away yet stay at the same fucking time.

So, I don't think.

I don't allow the guilt or the past in as I lower into the seat beside her bed. She makes a fist and attempts to stretch, gently brushing it against my jaw.

"You know you have the strongest mama in the world, but she's stubborn. Be like her. I won't get to hear you call me papa, but I am. You, my baby, are the most powerful person in the world because I will destroy anyone who even looks at you. And your mama? She will go to war for you, with anyone, including God or the devil. Especially me, so remember that, okay? Be strong like your mama, not like me."

1 ?Sorry baby, I love you