"N-no," Nicky stumbled, shaking her head. She looked at Red, whose eyes brimmed with tears. She could barely bring herself to look into them, and quickly tore her gaze away. "I didn't look, I swear."

Red's knuckles turned white as she clung to the countertop for balance. "One, two, three…" Her head was down as she mumbled a count.

"How could you be so fucking stupid?" Red raged, throwing her hands down on the countertop. She leaned against it as she glared. "I told you, Tricia - Russians don't play baseball."

"Red, I'm sorry," the young blonde stumbled over her words, the eyes that had given her secret away watering. "I'm fuckin' weak, I know, but I'm tryi-"

Red held up a hand, silencing her. Her temper had always been like a red mist, and a lot of the time she was unable to see the wood for the trees because of it.

"You brought drugs to my doorstep!"

The redhead ripped off her apron, still tired from a long day at work but worked up now, and balled it up. Throwing it down on the chair, she pushed her hair back. "Tricia-"

Dmitri's eyes played ping pong as he listened to the conversation. The vein on his wife's neck told him she was about to blow, and, knowing she wouldn't mean whatever it was she was about to say, he stood in the middle of them.

"Count to ten, Galina," he said quietly, ducking his head. It was a tactic she'd been using for years, and it had saved her from many cross words said in fits of anger. But this time, she was too far gone to even consider it.

"Count to ten? That's for when you order 100 bags of flour instead of ten, not for finding her passed out on the doormat!"

"MIlaya moyna," he started, his voice soothing - but she wasn't having any of it. "Think about what you're doing."

Nicky's eyes crinkled as she watched Red. She was breathing in, out, in, out like a yoga instructor. It was unsettling to say the least, and Nicky's lips disappeared as she pressed them together.

"...Red?"

Red held her hand up, a clear sign to shut up. Nicky's brow knit together as she realized it was trembling. The anger had waned from Red's eyes, too, she noticed - now she just looked beaten down and broken.

But Nicky wasn't deterred. She licked her lips and then asked with uncertainty, "Are you okay?"

When there was no response, Nicky's gut told her to run. To bolt out of here like lightning, to never be seen again. But she pushed it down, swallowed the fear, and reached out to touch Red's arm. The contact seemed to jolt her into action, and she placed her hand over Nicky's. The red rage had dissipated into an acid rain of guilt.

Nicky balled the hand that wasn't in Red's into a fist. "I...I wanted to look," she admitted, her tone thick with remorse. "But I didn't."

Red nodded, her mind elsewhere. When she said nothing, anxiety stirred in the pit of Nicky's stomach.

"I know I messed up, Red...I know I shouldn't have. And I'm sorry," she said, ducking her head. "But please give me another chance." Nicky's brown eyes shone with emotion whilst Red's blue ones stayed unseeing.

Tricia's teeth chattered as she clawed at Red's arm, begging for a chance to explain herself. "I swear, Red, it was a one time fuck up."

"You're right," Red said, shaking her arm free of Tricia's grip. "Because this house has rules. And if you want to live here, you follow them." Red paused, her eyes hard. "And you just broke the most important one!"

"Give me another chance, please," Tricia begged.

Dmitri shifted on the spot. His wife's brutality when it came to her rules always made for uncomfortable viewing. Tricia looked so young, so small...but he knew better than to get in her way. She had raised three boys in the city, and none of them had gotten in a spot of trouble. She was harsh, but she was fair. Most of the time.

It was fair to say that seeing Tricia slumped in her doorway had jolted her in a way her boys never had been able to. The way her heart stopped upon seeing her pale face...she never wanted to repeat that experience. Maybe her anger was stronger that day, maybe she wanted to teach her a lesson…

"Just get out of my sight for a while, will you?"

Red turned away, eyes cast heavenward. A heavy sigh flew from her lips.

Tricia bounced on her heels. "Can…can I come back later?"

Red swung round. "You need to ask?"

Red closed her eyes, shaking her head. Tricia wouldn't want this. "You did nothing wrong," Red murmured, squeezing Nicky's hand.

"I did," Nicky inisted. It was a wrench to say, but she continued. "I shouldn't have gone through your shit. I know that."

A hint of a smile flickered across Red's lips. "Apologizing is hard, hmm? Admitting you're wrong...I'd rather pull my fingernails out."

"Me too," Nicky admitted sheepishly. She pushed some hair from her face and looked at Red. "I really am sorry, though."

The kettle that Red had placed on the stove previously whistled, steam rising up like a cloud. Red glanced at it, and then nodded. "I know."

Red sat in her armchair, running her hand over her mouth absently. It had been hours since she'd last seen Tricia. Truthfully, she had never expected the girl to leave. Pitch a fit, yes. Run to the room she'd claimed as her own in their pokey apartment, slam the door...but disappear. No, she hadn't expected that.

Had she meant what she'd said?

Yes. To an extent, she had. But she'd meant it every single time she'd said it to her boys, too. Meant it until they came to her and said that they were sorry. Meant it whilst they yelled at her. Meant it she had, but loving them had been a constant. Just like Tricia.

Only this story had a different ending. Tricia hadn't come to her and said sorry. She hadn't slammed the door and squirrelled away for hours. Red glanced at the clock. Hours had passed. Where was she?

The sound of the kettle whistling startled her. She looked over to the kitchen, where Dmitri stood over two mugs. "I don't want tea, Dmitri."

He set down the teaspoon. "You want me to look for her?"

She looked away. "No," she said, glancing at the dinner that sat on the kitchen table, congealing. Worry was beginning to creep in, and she stood. "I'll look for her." Grabbing her keys from the hook, she added, "I'm sure she can't have gone far."

"Maybe I should try to find my own place," Nicky offered. She slipped her hand out of Red's grip, wiggling her fingers, and shrugged. "I should stand on my own two feet."

"There's no rush," Red said. Though her tone was light and breezy, she swallowed hard at the thought. "You have your whole life to stand on your own two feet." A wry smile crossed her lips. "And take it from me - it's overrated."

Nicky chewed on her lip. It had been an exhausting day, and guilt still ate away at her for the pain she'd caused. "I don't want to be a problem."

Red caught her eye. "You are never a problem," she said. "Not to me."

Nicky reluctantly nodded. "I really am sorry, Red."

"Stop saying that," Red said wearily. "You didn't look."

Nicky looked up at her. The curiosity hadn't completely died, but she knew better than to ask why that was so important. It was simply something she'd have to accept as off-limits. Boundaries had never been her strong point - but she'd broken Red's trust, and that seemed to bother her more than the ache to know what was in the box.

The blonde stifled a yawn as a smile played on Red's lips. "Lightweight."

"It's been a shitty day," Nicky said, not wanting to admit it. She hesitated, then said, "I think I'll head to bed...if that's okay with you."

"Of course it's okay with me," Red said. "Let me turn the light out for you."

Nicky couldn't help but smile. It was a contrast from home, when she had no-one. Maybe home was changing. Maybe this was her home. The thought made her feel itchy, hot, and claustrophobic. But it galloped through her mind like a herd of wild horses.

It was such a small gesture. Red ached to do more, but Nicky would pull away. She knew that from experience - even the smallest of touch, brushing her hair out of her eyes, picking lint from her sweater...it was always met with suspicion.

Nicky stood, pulling at the sleeve of her top. "Okay."

After letting her climb into bed, Red closed the door to Nicky's room, resting her head against it. She let out a breath; it was a relief to know that Nicky was safe in her bed. She knew that Nicky was a grown woman, and more than capable of taking care of herself...but she needed to take care of her. It wasn't rational - but love rarely was. And she could feel herself loving Nicky - it was scarier than she'd like to admit.

The door swinging open brought Red out of her thoughts. Face to face with her husband, she smiled. "You're home."

She didn't always appreciate him. Sometimes, he was a useless lump; sometimes, a thorn in her side. Nonetheless, she was happy to have him. He'd been her only constant throughout the years, and despite being irritated by him sometimes, she had to admit that she would be worse off without him.

He raised his eyebrows and held a hand out for her. "Rough day?"

She took his hand without hesitation. His tough skin felt like coming home, and she let him envelope her into a hug.

After a moment or two, he pulled away. Over her shoulder, he saw the box of her things. His breath caught in his throat - it had caught him unawares. He reached for her hand again, and she instantly knew he'd seen it.

He asked no questions. He didn't have it in him. His wife's grief had been all encompassing...it had destroyed her, and it had dripped into every part of their lives. His own grief had been quieter, in Red's shadow...there was nothing more powerful than a mother's love, and her loss had been harrowing. Everyone saw the pain etched on her features.

But he'd lost her too.

And sometimes it still hit him that she wasn't there anymore. If he'd let his own devastation wash over him like Red had, he wasn't sure they'd still be here today. Because of that, he wasn't sure he'd managed to process it even now - how could he? When a child died before her parents? He swallowed.

Was he her father?

He'd denied it enough times. No, he hadn't been her father - but he had been the one to pick her up when she fell, to watch her from the wings, and, he regretted, to say goodbye one final time. And when he'd buried that little girl, it fucking felt like he had lost a child, no matter what DNA said.

"Do you remember the last day?"

Dmitri rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He'd rather not remember, but he did. "I always will, Galina," he said, with a softness he'd never had before her.

Darkness had fallen over the city. Dmitri sat at the kitchen table, his hands folded. Her dinner still sat in front of him. He could barely look at it.

When the door opened, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. But when Red came through the door alone, his breath was taken away again. Call it pessimism or call it intuition, he knew something wasn't right. And by the ashen look on her face, she did too.

"I couldn't find her," Red said. It was clear from her voice that she was shaken. "She's just...disappeared."

Dmitri nodded slowly. "We'll find her," he said, but it sounded hollow even to him.

"I should have counted to ten," she whispered, closing her eyes as the tears welled in them. "I should have looked for her sooner."

Dmitri wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her close. It had almost driven them apart, yet now they were closer than they'd ever been. He buried his head in her neck so he didn't have to look at the box on the side.

"It wasn't your fault, Galina," he said without conviction, because he too placed blame on his own shoulders. He held back a sob. "It wasn't your fault."

A/N:
Hope you liked this chapter and that you're all well.
Thank so much for the reviews. I appreciate every one.
- Star xo