Summary:

It’s dark, and Ilya’s not quite sure where he is. His entire body is numb. His shoes are soaking wet from trudging lazily through the snow. His nose is running, and his lips are chapped. Selfishly, he wishes Shane would fuss over him now. Pull him close, whisper “I forgive you” even though he shouldn’t, because Ilya would never change, because something inside him- in his family line, in his soul- was broken. Ilya wondered how long ago it had clicked- when Shane had realized that Ilya wormed his way into this country and tricked the Hollanders into caring for him, then returned the favor by botching their language and leaving a trail of mess in his wake. He still can't help but wonder if that will be part of his punishment- being doomed to miss him in death, too. or: Ilya’s mostly been able to cope with the fact that he’ll never be able to articulate himself fully in this country- but he’s also never been good at talking about feelings in the first place. "I'm tired" is the best he's got. It definitely doesn't capture what's going on in his head, and Shane can't read minds.