***Hello, everyone! This is actually the rewrite of this chapter that I'm doing, all with a headache. Anyways, Nikolai, Yuri, and Otabek don't belong to me, Nadya does belong to me, and let's go!

Chapter Four: Dinner

As it turned out, the dinner reservation Nadya made was three days after Yuri had steeled his nerves and called her. He hadn't spoken to her since then; the only mention he'd made of her to anyone was passing along the dinner reservation time and place to Otabek and Nikolai. He knew that he was strong on his own, but this time, he'd need all the support he could get.

The three days passed sooner than expected, and Otabek drove with Yuri to the small, local restaurant on his motorbike. ("You're going to look weird on the motorbike with your cast," Otabek mused, strapping on his helmet. Yuri put on his own helmet, then glanced at his cast. "I hold out hope still that I'll rebreak it and get out of this dinner," he said bitterly.)

Once they arrived, they saw Nikolai sitting on the bench outside, waiting. "Hi, Grandpa," Yuri said, looking between his two supports for the night.

"Hello, Yuratchka. Your mother called and said she would be here soon. But she's late by habit. She always was late to essentially everything, before she even met your father," Nikolai said. Otabek rested his arm around Yuri in silent but well-needed reassurance that everything would be alright.

Indeed, fifteen minutes after they all agreed to meet up was when a battered car pulled up in the parking lot and up to them came a short, thin woman. She had long, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her icy-blue star was almost as offsetting as how pale her skin was. She wore a leather jacket over a t-shirt, jeans, and boots, with a purse over one arm.

She was silent, her hands in her pockets as she looked at Otabek and Nikolai. Then, she saw Yuri, and her expression softened. "My son..." she said.

But before she could make her attempt to hug her child, Yuri held up his hand. "We'll see how much of thirteen years you can make up for in one night," he said, his voice flat.

Then, then four went inside.

XxX

"I've watched you skate whenever I could, every time that you've been on TV," Nadya said once they arrive to their table.

"What have you been doing these past few years? I didn't hear a word of you after I went to live with Grandpa. After all, he never got drunk and left me unresponsive from beating behind a toilet," Yuri said, his voice bitter at the last words.

Although he kept it on his face that he was perfectly calm, Otabek next to him could tell how he trully felt. The Kazakh was losing feeling in his fingers from the grip of fear Yuri kept tight with his good hand. Otabek massaged his thumb over his hand under the table, and Yuri relaxed his grip, if only a little bit.

"Don't hold it against me, Yuri. I did my time in prison for child abuse. After the year of fighting for your custody, I spent ten years in prison. I've changed. Over the past two years, I've been steadying my own position and figuring out how to find you. Luckily, I finally did so. And I'm ready to be your mama," Nadya explained. That had Nikolai and Yuri both unsure of how to react.

Otabek silently stirred his straw in his drink. "What proof do you have?" he said simply.

"He has a point, Nadya. You don't have the best track record when it come to telling the truth," Nikolai said.

As if prepared for this, Nadya handed a folder of bland legal documents to him that she'd pulled from her purse. "Read. Nadya Jelissa Plisetsky is fit for society after serving a charge. I now work in clothing alterations," she said.

Nikolai read over the papers. He put them back in their folder after he finished. "It checkeds out. It seems she's genuinely trying, Yurachka," he said. Nadya nodded, then put her folder back into the purse.

Yuri stood up, somehow a shade paler than his normal skin tone. "I... I need to use the restroom," he said. As he stepped away to take a breather, he had never felt more confused in his life on how to feel.

XxX

The rest of dinner, Yuri barely spoke. As it turned out, Nadya didn't live that far of a drive from him or Nikolai. They both had her address before dinner was over.

The first thing Yuri did when he got back home was curl up on his bed, holding his pillow in his good arm. Otabek sat next to him. "Want to let me in?" he asked, rubbing the younger man's arched back.

"I was expecting her to be an ass, really... but she's not to same person she was back then... maybe..." Yuri mumbled, his voice quieter than normal.

Otabek let his hand run under Yuri's shirt so his warm, tanned hand massaged the Russian's soft, bare back. "You wanted your feelings to be easy to discern after this?" Otabek guessed.

Yuri removed his shirt andl aid down, wanting some way to relieve his stress. "I want to hate her... why can't I hate her, Beka? I've told you stories of what she did to me! You know how horrible she was to me!" he exclaimed.

Otabek began properly massaging Yuri's back, occasionally messing with the band of his underwear and sneaking his fingers beneath the fabric to relax him. "I don't think this is something that can be solved in one night," he said.

As Yuri began to shift at the distinct feeling below his waist Otabek's touches and temptations were giving him, the Kazakh skater laid next to him and snaked a strong, comforting arm around him.

"But we can forget it, and not try to solve it for tonight."

XxX

Beneath the thick comforter, arms and legs entangled and clothes were strewn onto the floor. Otabek held Yuri close. Yuri had fallen asleep pretty soon after they had finished having sex. He needed to relax, and he'd done just that.

Otabek watched his soft, sleeping face. He couldn't understand why Nadya would have ever abused him, especially when he was a young child. Although Otabek still had a few more pieces of the story to hear, he still felt as thoguh the Russian woman couldn't be trusted.

Not yet.

***I have nothing more to say right now, so be sure to leave a review on the way out, and I'll see you all in the next one! Bye!