Ivan woke to the sound of sobs.
Katyusha's sobs. He could've recognized them in his sleep. Maybe he had. It took his other senses a while to catch up to his hearing. When he finally felt the cold nip at the tip of his nose and Natasha's small, warm body press against his side, he also heard the absence of a howling wind and saw the wooden ceiling beams lit up with a light too cold to be a candle or the sun. There was the scent of home he'd always known, the stink of sickness and sweat that had lingered for the past few days, and another smell he didn't know. It must've been very early morning.
A thought struck him. Could Mama have...? A bad feeling Ivan couldn't name nestled in his chest.
Nothing good ever came from waking up early in the morning.
Slowly, reluctantly, the boy sat up. The cold, serene moonlight streaming in through the small window illuminated the inside of the small cabin. The snowstorm must've ended. Maybe Papa would find his way back home now? Surely he would. For some reason the bad feeling didn't vanish at the thought.
The light made it very easy for Ivan to make out the other bed where Mama had lain for the past day and a half. Katyusha was sitting in a heap by it, on the floor. She was holding Mama's hand. Her sobs were partially muffled by the bedsheets. Other than that, and Natasha's soft snores, it was silent. The bad feeling in Ivan's chest grew, and sank, and settled as a heavy weight at the bottom of his stomach. He didn't want to ask, didn't want to know.
"...Katyusha?"
His own voice sounded distant and quiet to his own ears. It must have been louder in the silence, though, because Katyusha startled the moment he spoke. She looked up at him, her eyes swollen and her messy hair glued to her face with tears and snot, sobs pausing. It made Ivan want to go and hug her the way she always did to him when he was sad, but something kept him glued in the spot, didn't let him move his limbs, made the bad feeling grow. There was something in her eyes he couldn't recall seeing there before. She looked... lost.
His eyes slid from his sister's face to Mama's. She looked pale, almost as pale as the moonlight and the snow outside. She looked like she was sleeping, except that her eyes were a little open. Just a tiny bit. No matter how long he stared, she didn't blink. The sheen of sweat on her brow that had been a constant for the past days was gone. Her chest didn't move.
Ivan looked away, back at Katya. She was staring at him, and shaking with the force of stifled sobs. When their eyes met, hers widened, just a little bit, but enough that he noticed, and she sobbed once, covering her mouth with her hand. He didn't know what it meant. The heavy weight in his stomach was making everything feel numb and distant. She drew a shaking breath, like she always did to calm herself, and lowered her hand.
"H-Happy birthd-day, V-Vanechk-" she began, trying for her usual bright smile but ending up with a wobbly one, before her face crumpled and she burst into sobs.
Ivan blinked. Oh. Right. Yesterday was the 29th, so today had to be the 30th, was all he could think as Katyusha cried.
He was nine, now.
Ivan didn't know what to do. He didn't understand, and even so felt like he understood more than he wanted. He felt lost. He wanted Mama to get up, wipe Katya's tears and kiss him goodnight and tuck him to bed like usual, but she didn't. Somewhere inside he knew that even though the snowstorm had gone, Papa wouldn't find his way back home.
The chill of the room nipped at his fingertips. He reached under the covers until his cold hand found Natasha's small, warm one. He squeezed it lightly. He didn't know how to make Katyusha feel better, he didn't think he could. All he could do for now was to keep her silent company. Sleep burned his eyes, but he would be fine. He was already nine, after all. The weight had vanished from his stomach, but Ivan could feel it wasn't truly gone.
Later he'd realize it'd just settled on his shoulders instead.
Vanechka. I'm sorry. I truly am. I wish I could say it gets better from here, but, well. Hm.
You know the feeling when you get an idea that'd make for a fun little fic, and then it grows, and it's a fun longfic, and then you think about what your characters' lives were like before the story takes place, and then suddenly you have enough backstory to write several biographies? Yeah, me neither lol
This is just a quick little one shot I wrote a while ago. I'm planning on writing a slightly longer fic on these events, but you'll probably have to wait until I write the main fic for this series, which! It'll be a while. As my profile says, my username is very fitting. :') I'll probably delete this, when/if I write the longer backstory piece to avoid repetition, but you'll get to enjoy this for probably the next decade :D
And right! You may have noticed this is a series now! The series page and the series itself are very much works in progress, but! It's a series. (A/N within an A/N: it's a series on AO3! Well, on here, technically too. Set in the same universe as Traitor's Glory and Six Sunflowers!) These three aren't the only characters in it either, but somehow the one shots just end up being about them? I promise the next one will be about some other characters in this. Also Finnish translation coming soon! And an English translation for the nationverse historical fic I just posted, also coming soon-ish.
Hope you liked it! Comments make my day, if you're willing to shoot me one! Have a lovely day in any case. :) Mwah. Take care 3