Chapter 12

A loud knock awoke Yuri in the middle of the night.

Groaning, he rolled over on his back and threw out an arm, his fingers touching nothing but cool cotton sheets. He sat up with a start, his sleep-addled brain taking a few seconds before remembering that Otabek was currently out of the country, competing at his second Grand Prix event in France.

Funny how accustomed he had grown to having a warm body sleeping beside him over the past few weeks... Shaking his head in mild disbelief, Yuri reached for his phone on his nightstand and rubbed at his eyes to make sense of the blurry numbers displayed on the screen. 3:23 a.m.

Way too freakin' early to wake up.

"I'm sleeping!" he shouted, laying back down and burying his face in his pillow. "Go away!"

There was another knock on the door, even louder than the first. "Yura, it's time," Mila's voice called out. "Get your ass out of bed."

"Time for wh—" Yuri abruptly sat up again. "Oh, shit!" He stumbled out of bed and found his discarded jeans from the day before on the floor, nearly tripping over his own feet on his way to the door as he pulled them on. "Are you sure?" he asked, opening the door after zipping his fly. Potya, who had been awakened by all the commotion, was right at his heels, meowing loudly. "It's not those Boston Hick thingies?"

"Braxton Hicks contractions, and no, it's the real thing," she said. "My water just broke."

"Oh, shit." Yuri ran a hand through his messy hair. Great, this just had to happen the weekend Otabek was competing at Internationaux de France. The baby wasn't supposed to come for another two weeks. "We have to call Beka!"

What was the time difference between Grenoble and St. Petersburg, anyway? Would Otabek even be able to make it home in time?

"I already did, around midnight when the contractions first started. He's catching the red-eye back to St. Petersburg. I was hoping he would be home by the time I needed to go to the hospital, but – Argh!" Mila moaned, leaning against the wall as she clutched at her stomach.

"Okay, okay. We can do this." Yuri inhaled, calming himself down so he could think clearly. They had prepared for the possibility of this, practicing the various scenarios. He only had to stick to the plan and everything would be fine. "You have your bag packed?"

She nodded, pointing to the small rolling suitcase outside his door. "I already called Dr. Sotnikova, too. She said she'll meet us at the hospital."

"Okay, then what are we waiting for? Let's go."

After pulling on a hoodie, Yuri grabbed his wallet and keys from the top of his dresser, then took Mila's suitcase, making a quick detour to the kitchen to open a can of cat food for Potya before leading Mila out to the garage. He helped her into the backseat of his car and hoped they would make it to the hospital in time. He did not want to be forced to deliver the baby on the side of the road like some hapless sitcom character.

"You doing okay back there?" Yuri asked when they came to a stoplight. He glanced back at Mila through the rearview window. At the moment, she didn't appear to be in much pain, her eyes closed as she took in deep, soothing breaths.

"Yeah, I think so. The contractions are still about five minutes apart, so we should make it to the hospital in plenty of time," she said, much to Yuri's relief. Leaning her head against the window, she sighed. "I wish Beka was here, though. I should have just let him skip the Grand Prix like he originally wanted."

"Hey, you couldn't have known that she would be coming earlier than expected. Even your doctor said it would probably be at least another week or so at your last appointment, right? Besides, the flight from Grenoble doesn't take that long. He could still make it back in time."

"I hope so…"

Me, too, Yuri thought, tapping on the accelerator when the light turned green again. Otabek would never forgive himself if he missed the birth of his daughter.

The one good thing about Mila going into labor in the middle of the night was that there was very little traffic. They arrived at the hospital in record time. After Mila was checked in, they were led to a private birthing room that almost felt more like it belonged in a nice hotel than a hospital. Mila's ob/gyn, Dr. Sotnikova, came by the room about ten minutes later to check on her progress.

"You're definitely in active labor," the doctor said after a short examination, "but you're only dilated about six centimeters, so it'll be a while yet before you're ready to deliver. I know your birth plan was for a natural birth. Is that still the plan, or would you like me to give you an epidural?"

"No, I'm doing fine without it," Mila said, shifting to a more comfortable position on the bed. "I don't need one."

"Well, let me or Jana know if you change your mind." Jana was the labor and delivery nurse assigned to Mila's care. "For now, try to rest and reserve your strength as much as possible." Dr. Sotnikova frowned, looking around the room. "Is your partner not here with you?"

"Beka's currently on a flight back to St. Petersburg. He was at a competition in France."

"Oh, yes, I remember you mentioning that at your last appointment."

"Do you think he'll make it back in time for the birth?" Yuri asked, placing another pillow behind Mila's back.

"It's hard to say. Labor can be unpredictable, but at the moment, I think it'll be at least a few more hours. Keep your fingers crossed."


Several hours later, Mila was still in labor, much to her and Yuri's collective relief. Otabek's flight from France was scheduled to land in about an hour, so as Dr. Sotnikova suggested, they were both crossing their fingers and hoping the baby would stay put until he was able to get to the hospital.

Yuri stifled a yawn as he shuffled over to the provided coffee machine and poured himself his fourth – or was it his fifth? – cup. He'd attempted to catch a few more winks of sleep in the room's surprisingly comfortable recliner, but with Mila dealing with contractions every few minutes or so and Jana regularly coming by the room to check on the progress of her labor, he had given it up as a lost cause, relying on the cheap ground coffee to keep him awake and alert.

Turning back around, Yuri almost spewed out his coffee at the sight of Mila climbing out of her hospital bed.

"Hey, are you sure you should be up and about?" he asked, horrifying images of the baby slipping out between her legs and falling head-first onto the floor flashing in his mind. "Maybe you should stay in bed..."

She waved off his concerns. "It's fine, it's fine," she said, pulling a robe over her bright pink nightgown. "Inga Borisnovna said it was good to move around during labor, remember?" Inga had been the instructor of the birthing class they had attended a couple of weeks ago. "Besides, I'm getting bored just sitting around."

"If you say so..."

She grabbed onto his arm and rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's go for a walk. A change of scenery will be a nice change of pace."

Admittedly, Yuri had been feeling a bit restless himself. Usually he'd be at the rink by this time – if he wasn't away at a competition, that is – warming up for his first skating session of the day. He'd already texted Sergei – Yakov's assistant coach and the one in charge while Yakov was in Grenoble with Otabek – and informed him that he wouldn't be attending any of today's practices. "Okay, but if we get stuck in an elevator and I'm forced to deliver your baby, I swear I'm never forgiving you," he said with a wag of his finger.

Mila laughed. "You watch too much TV."

"It's a legitimate thing that happens, you know!"

"Fine, no elevators, I promise! We'll just walk around the maternity ward a couple of times."

Well, that seemed safe enough, at least. Even if she did suddenly need to give birth, they would be surrounded by plenty of other, more qualified people who definitely knew what the hell they were doing. Yuri set his Styrofoam cup down on the counter and allowed her to pull him out the door, Mila keeping a strong grip on his arm as they slowly walked up and down the corridor.

Mila wasn't the only laboring mother who decided to get some exercise. They crossed paths with a pregnant woman who appeared to be in her late twenties, accompanied by a man Yuri presumed to be her husband, judging by the matching gold bands on their fingers. Mila and the woman stopped to chat for a couple of minutes, bonding over the fact that they were both having daughters until the other woman was called back to her room by her nurse.

"Good luck," the woman said, "and congratulations to you and your boyfriend! I hope everything goes well."

"Oh, Yura's not my boyfriend," Mila corrected her before Yuri got the chance to react, "but thanks. Good luck to you, too!"

They said their goodbyes and continued on their way. "Sorry about that," Mila said once they were out of earshot of the other couple.

Yuri shrugged. The pregnant woman wasn't the first one to make the wrong assumption about his identity since they arrived at the hospital; he was almost getting used to being mistaken as the baby's father by that point. "Honest mistake. People usually expect the father to be with you at the hospital when you're about to give birth."

Mila rubbed her belly and sighed. "I wish he was..."

"Yeah, me, too," Yuri said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a comforting side hug.

"You know, I've never gotten around to properly thanking you, have I?" Mila asked when they pulled apart and resumed walking again.

"For what? Driving you to the hospital?" That wasn't anything he needed to be thanked for. Of course he had taken her to the hospital! That had been the plan from the very start, considering he was the only one between the three of them who owned a car.

"No, although thank you for that, too." She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It's just...I, uh, know the idea of me and Beka having a baby together was difficult for you to accept at first."

Yuri sucked in a sharp breath. "Did Beka...?" Otabek had promised he wouldn't tell Mila that he had initially wanted her to abort the baby.

She shook her head. "I figured it out on my own."

"Oh."

He turned his face away in shame, but Mila reached for his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "Hey, it's okay," she assured him. "I'm not mad or anything. If our positions were switched, I might have felt the same way."

"If our positions were switched, I think I would have a lot more pressing matters to worry about," Yuri couldn't resist quipping, Mila bursting into a peal of laughter.

"Yura! Oh...mmm..."

Her giggles coming to an abrupt end, she stopped in the middle of the hallway and grabbed her lower back.

"Another contraction?"

"Yeah." Mila turned and placed her palms against the wall in front of her. "Mind rubbing my back? I think that might help a bit with the pain."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Yuri moved to stand behind her. "Like this?" he asked as he began massaging her back.

"Mmm... A little lower... Yeah, right there is good..." She leaned a little more into the wall, going through her breathing exercises until the contraction passed. "Thanks." She turned back around, a grateful smile on her face. "I really do appreciate you being here for me...for us," she said. "I know a baby probably never was a part of your plans. Hell, becoming a mother wasn't even a part of my plans." She sighed, a hand circling over her bump. "Growing up, I didn't have the best childhood either, you know?"

Yuri nodded, aware of some of the pain her parents' contentious divorce had caused. Like him, Mila didn't like to talk much about her past, but he had pieced together enough information from various conversations over the years he had known her to form a rough picture of what it must have been like for her.

"Deciding to keep this baby was the toughest decision I ever made," she admitted. "Even now, a small part of me wonders if I made the right choice or if I'm just dooming her to suffer the same unhappiness I did... But I love Beka, more than I ever imagined I could love another person. And I love you, too, Yura."

"Mila..."

She reached for Yuri's right hand, fiddling with the black band he wore on his middle finger. He hadn't taken it off since the night Otabek had given it to him. "I want to believe our bond is strong enough as a family that nothing will ever tear us apart," Mila said, using her other hand to pull the chain that held her own ring out from underneath the neckline of her nightgown. "Maybe it's stupid, maybe I'm just being naive, but..."

"No, it's not stupid," Yuri assured her, kissing her forehead. "I love you, too. You're the big sister I never knew I wanted, and though it took me a while to fully get on board, I'm happy that you and Beka invited me to be a part of your family. There's no place I'd rather be."

"Oh, Yura..." Sounding almost on the verge of tears, Mila pulled him into a hug. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, little brother."

"Okay, okay, enough with the mushy stuff," he said after a few moments, noticing that people were beginning to stop and stare. "I have a rep to protect, you know?"

Laughing, Mila pulled away and swiped her hand across her cheek. If he did the same... Well, Yuri trusted it would remain their little secret.

After that, they decided to head back to Mila's room. Yuri helped her climb back into bed, but almost as soon as she was settled, Mila cried out, doubling over in pain.

"What's wrong? Do I need to get the doctor?" Yuri asked, alarmed by the intensity of her scream.

Mila shook her head. "No, I'm okay. The contractions are just getting stronger," she said, motioning toward the suitcase standing in the corner of the room. "Get me the tennis balls out of the bag, will you?"

"On it!" He walked over to the suitcase, kneeling down to rummage through it. "Don't forget about your breathing," he reminded her as he unzipped the main compartment. "Hee hee hoo. Hee hee hoo. Or, you know, whatever you're supposed to do." Admittedly, he hadn't paid much attention to that part during the birthing class, assuming Otabek would take care of the coaching.

Mila began doing her breathing exercises as Yuri searched for the tennis balls, but he wasn't having much luck. He made sure to double-check all the pockets and zippers, even the ones that were obviously too small, yet the balls were nowhere to be found. "Are you sure you packed them?" Yuri asked, looking back over his shoulder. "I don't see them in here."

"Yeah, of cour– Wait, no." She sighed, falling back against the pillows. Her contraction seemed to be over for the moment, Mila no longer wincing in pain. "Crap, I forgot. I took them out last week when I needed to pack a few more things, and of course Potya started playing with them, rolling them under the bed where I couldn't reach them. I was going to get you or Beka to grab them for me, but I guess it slipped my mind." She brought her hand to her forehead, rubbing it. "Dammit!"

Yuri zipped the suitcase up and walked back to Mila's bedside. "Do you want me to run to the store and buy you some new ones?" It was still fairly early, but there were bound to be at least a few stores already open.

"No, don't go!" she said, grabbing his wrist. "Um, I just don't want to be alone right now. I don't need them."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay."

But a few minutes later, another big contraction hit, Mila crying out as she dug her fingers into the sheets. She tried to do her breathing exercises, but they didn't seem to be helping much.

"Here." Yuri held out his hand.

"Are you sure?"

"Just take it."

Yuri, recalling how strong her grip had been when he had taken her to the emergency room during her miscarriage scare, thought he had prepared himself, but that was nothing in comparison. A stream of curses spewed forth from his mouth as Mila nearly pulverized his poor fingers in her grasp.

"Oh, my god, Yura, are you okay?" she asked, letting go. "I'm so sorry!"

"Forget it. If you can push an entire human baby through your vagina, I can deal with a few broken fingers." After clenching and unclenching his fingers a few times to make sure nothing was actually broken – they were fine – he offered his hand again. "Come on, take it. And breathe!"

Though Mila hesitated for a moment, she once again squeezed his hand in hers and resumed her breathing, Yuri enduring it for the remainder of the contraction. "Thanks, Yura," she said when it ended.

"Hey, what are best friends for?" he quipped, Mila smiling and ruffling his hair.

"Yeah, you're the best."

"Even better than Sara?"

"Oh, shut up."


Yuri had no idea how Mila did it.

A couple of more hours passed, her contractions becoming stronger and closer together, yet she bore it without complaint, determined to stick to her plan for a natural birth as long as it was safe.

"Any more texts from Beka?" Mila asked after her latest one. He'd messaged them about an hour ago that his plane was about to land at the airport, but he had yet to make it to the hospital.

After shaking the feeling back into his fingers, Yuri pulled his cell out of his pocket and checked his texts. "No, nothing yet," he said. "He's probably going through customs. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

She sighed. "Oh, I hope so." She brought her hands to her stomach, rubbing her large bump. "I know you're anxious to get out, sweetie," she murmured, "but I need you to stay in there a little while longer, okay? Papa's coming as fast as he can."

Just not fast enough, Yuri thought with a frown, which he hid from Mila by turning away and pretending to scroll through his Twitter feed. Where was Otabek? The hospital wasn't too far from the airport. It shouldn't take so long after landing for him to get there, even with all the hassle of going through customs.

Too bad transporters didn't actually exist in real life. They could use one right about now.

Where the FUCK are u Beka? Yuri discreetly texted for the fourth time, not that it did any good. All the messages he had sent since the last time Otabek had texted were still showing as unread. Yuri tried not to read too much into it, telling himself that it was only because Otabek had turned off his phone and nothing more, but it was difficult not to fear the worst, his heart jumping in his throat every time they heard the faint wail of a siren as yet another ambulance pulled up to the emergency room.

"Is it Beka?" Mila asked once again, noticing that he was typing despite his attempt to hide what he'd been doing. "Has he replied?"

He wanted to lie, to tell her that Otabek had texted him back and that he was only minutes away from arriving at the hospital. All this stress couldn't be good for the baby. Mila had been putting up a good front, but the longer Otabek made them wait, the more restless and jumpy she became. Fortunately, Yuri was spared from answering by the sound of the door opening, the both of them sighing in near unison when they saw it was only Dr. Sotnikova and not Otabek as they had hoped.

The doctor walked over to Mila's bedside. "I take it Otabek has not yet arrived?" Dr. Sotnikova said, not offended at all by their blatant disappointment.

"No, not yet," Mila said. "Isn't there some drug you can give me that will temporarily stop the labor? At least until he gets here?"

"There is, but I don't recommend it," she said. "There are significant risks involved for both you and the baby, and I see no medical reason to use it at this point."

Mila sighed. "No, I don't want to take any unnecessary chances. You're ri—ARGH!"

She reached for Yuri's outstretched hand, squeezing it tightly as she breathed through her next contraction. Meanwhile, Dr. Sotnikova used a fetoscope to check on the baby's heartrate, a frown crossing her lips.

"Is the baby okay?" Yuri asked, not liking that look. "Is something wrong?" Though the contraction had passed, Mila continued holding onto his hand, loosening the grip only slightly as a flicker of fear appeared in her eyes.

"Her heartrate is a little higher than I'd like it to be, but still within an acceptable range," Dr. Sotnikova said, moving to the foot of the hospital bed and lifting up the hem of Mila's nightgown. "Mila, I know it's difficult, but I need you to try to relax, okay? I'm going to check and see how dilated you are."

Mila nodded, staring up at the ceiling as she laid back against the pillows and began taking deep breaths in and out to calm herself. Yuri, looking for anything he could do to help – anything at all! – used a cool washcloth to wipe away the sweat forming on her forehead.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright," he said in as soothing of a voice as he could manage. "The baby's gonna be born strong and healthy, and Beka's coming as fast as he can. I know he is. He's gonna be here any minute, and –"

The door to the birthing room suddenly slammed open, a familiar figure dashing inside.

"Beka!"

Panting as if he had just finished running a marathon, Otabek unceremoniously dropped his luggage in the middle of the floor and rushed to Mila's side, kissing her on the lips. "Milasha!"

She burst into a sob, releasing the tears she had been trying so hard to hold back. "Oh my god, you're here! You're here! I was so scared you weren't going to make it in time..." she blubbered into his sweatshirt, holding onto him as if she feared he would disappear if she let go.

"Me, too," he said into her hair, sounding almost on the verge of tears himself. "I'm so sorry. I'm here, I'm here..."

"And just in time," Dr. Sotnikova announced with a smile, having completed the examination. "You're at ten centimeters, Mila. I'm going to grab your nurse and a tech to get things set up for the delivery, then we'll be ready to go."

"Thanks, Dr. Sotnikova," Mila said, finally pulling back from Otabek's embrace and wiping away her tears with her nightgown.

"Just try to relax and save your strength. You're going to need it. I'll be back in a few minutes."

It wasn't until after the doctor had left the room that Otabek remembered that Yuri was there, too. He reached across the bed, smiling as he caressed Yuri's cheek. "Hey, thanks for being here for her once again."

"Of course I was," Yuri said, covering Otabek's hand with his own. His touch was warm, assuring Yuri it was really him and not some figment of his imagination. "But, Beka, where the hell were you? I've been trying to get ahold of you for the past hour, but you weren't even reading my texts. Don't you know how worried Mila was? How worried I was? For all we knew, you might have been in some sort of acci–" Yuri's voice cracked, unable to even finish the thought.

"I'm sorry." Sighing, Otabek dropped his hand back down to his side. "I wasn't ignoring your texts on purpose, I swear. My phone died right after I sent that last message, and since I forgot my charger back in my hotel room, I had no way to plug it in anywhere to let you know that traffic was backed up and it might be a while before I could get here."

"It's okay," Mila said, rubbing his arm. "The important thing is that you finally made it, safe and –"

At that point, another contraction hit, and she grabbed onto Otabek's hand, Yuri's poor abused fingers grateful for the reprieve after serving as her personal tennis ball for the past couple of hours. Otabek slipped easily into his role of birthing coach, barely even flinching as she crushed his fingers and he talked her through her breathing exercises.

"By the way, congratulations on your win!" she said once the contraction had faded. "And qualifying for the Final."

Otabek chuckled. "You're talking about that now? You already congratulated me earlier."

"I know, but I'm proud of you!"

"Yeah, congrats!" Yuri said. He and Mila had watched the stream of the men's free yesterday afternoon, cheering Otabek on from afar as he won his second gold of the series and cinched an automatic berth to the Grand Prix Final. "Although the judges totally underscored you. I can't believe you beat Emil by only ten points."

"Well, I did triple my second planned quad lutz and only managed a level two on a couple of my spins..." Otabek pointed out.

Yuri rolled his eyes. Even with a few technical bobbles, he still thought Otabek deserved higher PCS than what he had been given. "Bah, you need to concentrate on your spins more. Missing levels is just giving away points. You're better than that!"

"Yes, yes, Coach Feltsman already gave me that lecture. I'll work on it for the Final. Now, can we bring the focus back to Mila, where it belongs?" Otabek smiled and kissed her forehead. "Speaking of Emil, he and Sara send their love. Viktor and the other Yuuri do, too." They had been at Internationaux de France as well, coaching Kenjirou Minami who won the bronze, his very first medal on the Grand Prix. "They gave me a couple of plushes to give to her as her very first presents. Yura, will you grab that bag for me?" He jerked his head toward the luggage he had dumped on the floor when he arrived.

Yuri brought over the shiny gift bag Otabek had indicated, handing it over to Mila. She pulled out two stuffed bears: an adorable white one dressed in a sparkly pink fairy costume and a cool brown bear in leather pants and a hot-pink leopard-print T-shirt that Yuri almost wanted to keep for himself.

"The white one is from Sara and Emil and the brown one is from Vitya and his family. Nikusha helped pick it out, according to the other Yuuri," Otabek said as Mila admired the bears.

"Aw, that's so sweet!" she gushed as Dr. Sotnikova returned to the birthing room with Mila's assigned labor and delivery nurse, Jana, and a young OB tech they had yet to meet who wore a pair of black cat ears tucked into his dark hair.

Yuri blatantly stared at the tech as he prepared a tray of the instruments that would be needed for the delivery, not even paying attention to Dr. Sotnikova's explanation of what was about to happen.

He wasn't seeing things, was he? Sure, he was running on only four hours of sleep and copious amounts of bad hospital coffee, but he hadn't thought he was tired enough to start hallucinating.

And a catboy, of all things? What the fuck, brain.

The tech, noticing that Yuri was staring at him, reached up to touch his cat ears and laughed. "I'm not a weirdo or anything, if that's what you're thinking," he said. (That was, in fact, exactly what Yuri was thinking.) "Just thought I'd have a little fun at work and get in the holiday spirit!"

Yuri blinked. Holiday? What kind of idiotic holiday tradition involved wearing cat ears – "Wait, today is freakin' Halloween?" he practically shouted when the realization hit.

Dr. Sotnikova paused in the middle of her explanation, everybody in the room turning their attention to Yuri and the tech.

"Uh, yeah?" the tech said. "It's the 31st, so..."

The 31st. Of October. Which meant...

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEKA!" Yuri and Mila exclaimed in unison, a surprisingly sheepish Otabek rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, yeah, I guess today is my birthday, isn't it?"

"You forgot your own birthday?" Yuri asked in disbelief, not that he was really one to talk.

"Kinda had some other stuff on my mind..."

Dr. Sotnikova chuckled. "Well, it's about time to deliver one of your birthday presents, Otabek," she said, taking a seat on the stool the tech had rolled over to the foot of the bed. "Mila, when the next contraction starts, I want you to begin pushing, okay?"

"Okay," Mila said, reaching for one of each of Otabek's and Yuri's hands. "We're ready to meet our daughter."


"Congratulations, it's a girl!"

Yuri exhaled a sigh of relief the moment he heard an ear-piercing wail, Mila releasing her iron grip on both his and Otabek's hands and falling back onto her pillows in utter exhaustion. It had taken over an hour of pushing – and crushing of fingers – on her part, but the baby had finally made her triumphant debut into the world. Almost immediately, Dr. Sotnikova placed the wiggly baby on top of Mila's chest, Jana making certain they were both covered with a blanket to keep warm.

"Oh, my god, Beka, she's so much better than the leather jacket I bought you!" Mila cried, laughing through her tears.

Otabek may have been known for his infamous poker face, but there was no mistaking the pure joy in his eyes when he saw his daughter for the first time, his smile bright enough to rival the sun. He kissed the top of Mila's sweat-matted hair, then bent down to whisper something Yuri couldn't hear in the baby's ear, his hand gently stroking the top of her head.

Yuri had honestly never seen either one of them so happy. Discreetly, he turned around and used the heel of his palm to wipe away a couple of tears that had managed to escape from his own eyes.

"Otabek, would you like to do the honors?" Dr. Sotnikova asked after placing two clamps on the umbilical cord.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

Otabek finally managed to tear his eyes away from his new daughter, accepting the pair of sterile scissors the catboy tech handed to him and cutting through the cord where the doctor indicated. It took him a couple of tries before he was able to get a clean cut, but soon afterward, the afterbirth passed through, and Jana began helping Mila learn how to breastfeed.

"Does she have a name yet?" Dr. Sotnikova asked, jotting down some quick notes on Mila's chart.

Otabek looked over at Yuri, raising an eyebrow. "Yura?"

"Oh!" In all the excitement, Yuri had almost forgotten that he had been tasked with choosing the baby's name. He had a few possible choices in mind, but he had wanted the chance to meet her first before making his final decision. "Um, I'm still trying to decide," he admitted.

"That's fine. Just let me or one of the nurses know whenever you do settle on a name." She smiled. "Congratulations again. I'll return in an hour to give her a more thorough check-up, but for now, enjoy this time and bond with your daughter."

It didn't take long for the medical team to clean up and leave the room. Yuri, not wanting to interrupt their bonding while Mila nursed the baby for the first time, collapsed into the comfy recliner, his eyes threatening to fall shut as soon as he sat down. With the baby safely delivered and no longer having to worry if Otabek had been the victim of some horrific accident, his severe lack of sleep was finally catching up to him despite all the coffee he had drank earlier. Though he had promised Viktor and Yuuri that he would text them as soon as the baby was born, he only got through typing the first half of the message before losing the battle against sleep and conking out.

"Yura... Yura..."

Yuri's eyes fluttered opened. Otabek, cradling the baby in one arm, was gently shaking him by the shoulder with his free hand. "Would you like to hold her now?" he asked.

"Can I?" He sat back up, setting his phone aside.

Otabek chuckled. "Yeah, of course. Here."

After a slight hesitation, Yuri took the baby from Otabek, careful to support her head and neck as he'd been taught in the birthing class they attended. It was the first good look he got of her face. She had her mother's red hair and light brown skin like her father, but otherwise, he couldn't really tell if she favored Mila or Otabek more in looks. With all her wrinkles, she actually looked more like a tinier, cuter Yakov – a thought Yuri wisely kept to himself.

"Hey, baby," he cooed softly, pulling back the pink-and-blue blanket so that he could find one of her little hands. "I'm Yuri. I'm your..." He frowned. Nine months, and he still hadn't settled on how to define his relationship to her. Not a father, but "uncle" didn't seem quite right either, even if he thought of Mila as the sister he never had. "Well, you can just call me Yura," he decided as she wrapped a hand around his pointer finger, her grip surprisingly strong for such a tiny thing. "Yura, not Yurio, okay? No matter what Vitya and Katsu– I mean, that other Yuuri might tell you." He was bound and determined to cut that nonsense off from the start, not wanting a repeat of what happened with Nikita. "Those two are idiots, so you don't listen to them. You listen to me, and you listen to your mama and your papa. We'll set you right, okay?"

Thinking about the topic of names, Yuri wondered what name he should give her. For the past couple of weeks, he'd been debating between Alina or Ksenia, with Marzhan as a possible third option in honor of Otabek's Kazakh roots, but now that she was here, none of those names quite seemed to suit her. Anna? Daria? Maybe Sofia?

No, they were all wrong.

He closed his eyes.

Yuri was suddenly on the ice again, about to begin skating his short program in the team event in Pyeong-Chang. His dream of competing in the Olympics had finally come true, and everybody important to him was there to watch him win his first gold. Yakov and Lilia at the boards, giving him last minute advice...Viktor and Yuuri in the Team Japan box, cheering for the "enemy"... Mila with the rest of Team Russia in their own box, leading their teammates in a silly cheer... Yuuko with her family and the Katsukis in the stands, helping hold up a homemade "Go, go, Yurio!" banner, no doubt the handiwork of the triplets... Otabek and Grandpa a couple of rows below them, Grandpa waving his tiny Russian flag while Otabek cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted "Davai!" in the loudest voice Yuri had ever heard him use...

Agape.

"Lubov."

Love.

"Yura?"

"Her name," Yuri said. He rose from the chair and carried the baby back over to Mila's bedside, a soft smile on his lips as he stared down at the tiny baby cradled in his arms. "I decided. It's Lubov Otabekovna Babicheva."

Otabek and Mila looked at each other, the both of them also breaking into smiles.

"Our little Lubasha. I like it," Otabek said, wrapping an arm around Yuri's shoulder and kissing his temple.

"Yes, it's perfect, Yura," Mila agreed. "Thank you."

A few hours later, a new photo appeared on Otabek's rarely updated Instagram page, taken by the proud father himself. In it, Mila held little Lubov in her arms, Yuri resting his head on Mila's shoulder as he sat beside her on the hospital bed.

"My beautiful, exhausted family," the caption read. "Welcome to the world, Lubov Otabekovna Babicheva – the best birthday gift I ever received."

DISCLAIMER: "Yuri! On Ice" doesn't belong to me.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you to everybody who stuck through this story to the end. I hope you enjoyed the story! If you haven't already, I recommend checking out the "Time To Say Goodbye" side story, which serves as a bit of an epilogue to the "It's Complicated" series, although I'm not saying "no" to the possibility of writing more in this universe. To be honest, I'm already half-tempted to write a far-off sequel focusing on a love triangle between Nikita Katsuki/Lubov Babicheva/Jack Leroy! Or maybe even another OT3 situation? *laughs* Could you imagine Yuri, Otabek, Mila, Viktor, Yuuri, JJ, and Isabella as future in-laws? Well, we'll see. For now, I plan for my next YOI multi-part to be a pre-canon JJBek fic, so I hope you'll check it out whenever I begin posting.

(BTW, in case you didn't know, the name Lubov means "love".)

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