One year later

The blue of the sky deepened to indigo, and the streetlights blinked to life as evening fell on Paris.

Gleb quickened his steps as he neared the door of his flat, sighing a little in relief. It had been a long day, and all he wanted to do was be home. As he entered, a high-pitched cry sounded from one of the rooms and he hurried to remove his coat.

"Shh," Anya was cooing to the small bundle of blankets in her arms. Gleb exhaled and smiled fondly as he watched her from the threshold of their bedroom.

As always, she knew he was there. "Look, your papa is home," she announced brightly.

Gleb approached his wife and child, wrapping an arm around Anya's shoulders in the closest approximation of a hug he could give her given her position. She turned and lifted her chin so he could capture her lips in a kiss.

The crying lightened to a gurgle, interrupting the moment and making them both laugh. Anya extended the bundle to him, and Gleb reached out to hold his son.

They had never been able to decide properly on a name, not until the moment he was born. As the baby was laid in an exhausted Anya's arms, she had looked at his face and began to cry.

"Alexei," she said simply.

From where she stood in the corner of the room, the Dowager Empress let out a sniffle as Anya looked to Gleb, questioning.

Alexei. The younger brother who had been her closest friend, who she had lost in that terrible night. He could feel the Romanovs watching him again for the first time in nearly a year.

Anya was looking for a second chance to protect him. Gleb needed a second chance to make things right.

"Alexei," he confirmed, and the name felt absolutely right rolling off his tongue. When he went to Anya's side and beheld his son for the first time, he knew they had chosen well.

Alexei was beautiful, with a shock of dark hair and round, pink cheeks. As he yawned and blinked up at his father, Gleb gazed into his eyes.

They were eyes of the same striking blue that had changed Gleb's life. His mother's eyes.

"When you're done staring, you might want to hold him," Anya teased gently. Gleb glanced down at his hands, which suddenly seemed so large and clumsy next to something so delicate.

"I can't," he whispered. It wasn't his lot to be trusted with something so pure –

Alexei made a sound like a whine, and Anya grinned triumphantly. "See? He wants you."

"I don't know how," he protested.

"I'll show you."

Gleb felt like a child again as Anya carefully instructed him on how to position his arms to support a baby. He finally formed an awkward cradle, and his heart pounded as Anya tucked Alexei's swaddled body into it. He was now so close, Gleb could probably count each eyelash.

Alexei's eyes latched onto Gleb's face, searching, and Gleb felt the same rushing in his veins he had felt the night he fell in love with Anya. Without thinking about it, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Alexei's forehead. As Gleb closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of his son, his eyes stung with the tears pooling under his lids.

They had created this. The union of two people who should never have been had made a future. A future who would never again be haunted by the shadows of the past, who would never again inherit a legacy of blood, who would never again be lost.

Anya was watching them, a tender smile on her face that mirrored the one he'd given them just moments before. "I'll leave you boys to it while I get ready for dinner." She stood on tiptoe to kiss Gleb again. "Make sure to wash up," she said against his mouth. "Nana and Lily will be here soon."

Gleb wrinkled his nose at the reminder, and Anya sighed. "Be nice." She narrowed her eyes at him and smacked his shoulder lightly as she turned to leave the room.

Once she was gone, Gleb rolled his eyes at Alexei. The baby blinked at Gleb, his innocent face baffled. "I know," Gleb sighed. "You actually like her."

Practically from the moment they had learned that Anya was pregnant with Alexei, the Dowager Empress had doted on her great-grandson, sparing no expense to make sure Anya had the best care possible. And from the day Alexei was born, she had showered him with constant affection, as well as the finest toys and equipment. She had even convinced Gleb and Anya to remain in Paris so she could keep an eye on things.

It was a service Gleb had grudgingly accepted as necessary when he eventually accepted a job working with the French police. Obtaining the position had been a funny consequence of his arrest the previous year – while it wasn't much, it made use of his skills, gave him a living wage, and enabled him to protect his family in an official capacity. Anya, meanwhile, was to be introduced as the Dowager Empress's new lady-in-waiting once Alexei was older. Lily – as he had grown accustomed to calling the countess – had been thrilled, as it meant she could finally have a life of her own again.

All in all, Gleb and the Dowager Empress no longer had as…contentious a relationship as they did in the past. At least he liked to think that was the case. But there were some scars that simply did not heal, and they were never going to be family in anything more than legal relation – not that either of them particularly wanted to be.

Alexei let out a sound like a huff, as though exasperated, and Gleb chuckled as he traced his son's cheek with the back of a finger. The doorbell rang, and he hurried to place Alexei back in his bassinet.

Lily's enthusiastic chatter was already floating down the hallway. "Where's my godson?" she called, loudly enough for Gleb to hear. Quickly checking to make sure he looked decent since he hadn't washed up, Gleb carried the cradle out to where the women were waiting. Anya looked at him and sighed heavily. He grinned back sheepishly.

"There he is!" Lily squealed. She barreled past him and leaned over the baby, enraptured.

"Your shirt is wrinkled," the Dowager Empress snapped in greeting as she looked him over disdainfully.

"In service of noble France," he shot back, his tone mocking.

"Your Majesty, he's looking for you!" Lily exclaimed, even though Gleb hadn't heard a peep. But it worked as the Dowager Empress's face brightened – she shouldered past him and carefully lifted Alexei out of his bed, mumbling terms of endearment. Behind her back, Lily rolled her eyes at him.

"Gleb, come help me," Anya commanded softly. "Nana, Lily – will you be alright –"

"Help," the Dowager Empress snorted. "When he should be waiting on her hand and foot –"

Alexei whined just then, and Anya sighed in visible relief as her grandmother turned back to the bundle in her arms.

As he and Anya made their way into the kitchen, Gleb muttered, "I know, I know."

"She's coming around," Anya quipped. "She hasn't complained about Alexei having your hair all week."

"Victory," he replied sarcastically.

Anya handed him a pot of stew. "One day."

As the table was set for dinner, Lily shot a glance at Alexei. Then with an impish smile on her face, she pulled a bottle of clear liquid out of the large bag she had brought in.

"Lily!" the Dowager Empress exclaimed, scandalized.

Lily quickly stuck the bottle behind her back. "He's too young to know anything yet, Your Majesty!"

The Dowager Empress continued to look flabbergasted, but Anya laughed. "It'll be fine, Nana. It would be nice to celebrate."

"You're not allowed to have any, you're still feeding," the Dowager Empress said immediately.

"I won't, Nana," Anya replied obediently. "But I don't see why the rest of you can't."

"Me?" Gleb began to protest, but Lily clapped her hands.

"Great!" She unscrewed the bottle and poured a small amount into three of the glasses. "We won't get carried away, Your Majesty."

As Lily slid one of the glasses over to him, Gleb hesitated. He hadn't had a drink in a very long time, not since Russia. Things had moved so quickly since then – shortly after Anya had reunited with the old woman, they had discovered she was with child, and there had been very little time to even think about such things. It felt almost….rebellious to have vodka in his hands right now.

"You're looking uptight again," Lily remarked as she gulped down her drink. "It won't hurt, you know."

"She's right," Anya pointed out as she ladled out stew. "Gleb, you're allowed to relax sometimes. And you need to."

He placed the glass beside his plate. "With dinner," he said pointedly to Lily.

The first few minutes of the meal passed without incident as Anya regaled the women with stories of her day with Alexei. He listened rather than talked, smiling at how easily Anya had taken to motherhood. It used to keep her up at night, the fear that she wouldn't be a good mother. She barely remembered what it was like to have a mother, she often said. How could she be one now without any frame of reference?

It was her time with her grandmother that had ultimately been the key. To help jog the rest of Anya's memories, the Dowager Empress went through family photos with her, reminiscing and telling stories about them. Over the past year, Anya had started recalling things she and her parents and siblings would do together – things that weren't painful, that represented the happier childhood she had once had.

Whenever he overheard them, it always felt like reopening old wounds. But he had promised himself he would bear it all for the rest of his life as his penance. He had already received more than he deserved in return.

"Gleb, you still haven't touched that vodka," Lily called out as she reached for the bottle to refill her glass. The Dowager Empress rolled her eyes as she drained her own drink.

He had been hoping to save it for after dinner, but he knew Lily wouldn't stop hounding him until he drank. The alcohol burned going down, the novelty of the feeling surprising him.

"There we go." Lily splashed some more vodka into their glasses.

"How is it?" Anya, seated beside him, asked in a low voice.

"Good," he replied as the drink began to settle in his bones. Perhaps they were right – he could stand to loosen up. It wasn't bad at all, the feeling.

He turned back to his plate. As he lifted his fork, Alexei began crying, bringing him and Anya out of their seats.

"Stay, I'll be fine," Anya said as she pushed her chair back. "He probably needs changing. I'll be back."

As she scooped Alexei into her arms and hurried into the bedroom, Lily stood up. "I'll come too!" Before either Gleb or the Dowager Empress could react, she was at Anya's heels.

The complete silence that descended on the dining table was as heavy as hoarfrost in the Russian winter. For the first time that evening, he realized that he was sitting directly opposite the old woman – why hadn't he noticed this poor seating arrangement before? Quickly, he reached for his glass and downed its contents, hoping the vodka would make the minutes until Anya and Lily returned easier to bear.

The Dowager Empress seemed to have reached a similar conclusion as she finished her glass in one gulp. She extended her hand to pick up the bottle just he made the same motion. Her eyes narrowed at almost the same time his did.

Fine. He would remember his manners, Dowager Empress or no. She was his grandmother-in-law, as Anya constantly reminded him. With that thought firmly in mind, he pushed the bottle towards the old woman.

She sniffed imperiously as she filled her glass. Then she shoved the bottle back at him. He poured a little more vodka than what Lily had been giving him for himself.

The bottle went one way, then another. It helped with the discomfort.

But he had probably had enough for an evening. He'd have his last drink when Anya came back, and they would finish this dinner in peace.

"Should we be getting back?" Anya commented as she disposed of the soiled nappy. She tried to keep her voice light even as her insides squirmed at the thought of Gleb and Nana being left alone for too long.

"That's why I brought vodka," Lily remarked as she rested Alexei's head on her shoulder. "Maybe they'll realize they make good drinking mates."

Anya tried to laugh. "Dinner's getting cold."

"Alright, alright," Lily sighed. "But really, everything's going to be fine. They're adults. They've been alone together before and didn't kill each other."

In theory, Lily had a point. But Anya had often seen how Gleb's jaw would tighten whenever Nana made a snide comment at him, and how Nana's eyes would flash at his mockery. She wanted to trust them, but she couldn't help but wonder when one of them would deliver the straw that would break the camel's back. Anya had hoped that proximity would push them to get along when they had moved in with Nana briefly during Anya's pregnancy, but she had long since brought herself to accept that Gleb and Nana could never reconcile.

It wasn't the ideal situation, and it wore on Anya on the worst of days. But she tried to remind herself that she couldn't complain – she had already gotten the best of both worlds. It was a gift she knew Gleb had paid a heavy price for, and she could not make it any harder for him.

When she, Alexei, and Lily reached the dining room, Anya breathed a sigh of relief. Gleb and Nana were simply sitting in silence, passing the vodka back and forth. Neither of them were smiling, but they seemed to have at least worked out a civil arrangement over alcohol.

"I told you," Lily said smugly. "Vodka makes everything better." Anya nodded, grinning. Maybe she needed to start keeping a bottle or two around the house.

"Anya!" Gleb exclaimed enthusiastically as he spotted her approaching. His entire face brightened, and he looked like a young boy. The drink was already clearly starting to affect him.

"You need to eat a little more if you're going to be drinking so much," she chastised him lightly as she sat down in her chair and rubbed his back. He leaned slightly into her touch.

Lily leaned over to peer at the bottle. "I'm impressed. Your general can handle his liquor. I should have done this months ago."

"General," Nana hissed.

Lily clapped a hand to her mouth. "Did I say that?" Shifting her grip on the baby, she slowly nudged the vodka in Nana's direction as Anya quickly spooned some more stew onto Gleb's plate. But it was too late. Gleb's eyes narrowed and he put his fork down.

Nana had refilled, so Anya grabbed the bottle and splashed some more vodka into Gleb's glass. She pushed it into his hand, and without taking his eyes off Nana, he knocked the drink back. It seemed to relax him, and he returned his attention to the food.

"Dead on his feet already?" Nana remarked coolly. Gleb looked up, a steely glint in his eye.

"I am NOT," he declared loudly around a mouthful of stew and bread. In Lily's arms, Alexei squeaked, and they all froze. But he slept on as though nothing had happened.

"Shh!" Anya hissed.

"Sorry." Gleb's face drooped with visible guilt, and he tentatively touched her shoulder. Anya softened. He hadn't meant it, after all.

"It's OK," she said more gently. She placed her hand on his arm, and relief flooded his features. She couldn't keep a smile from forming – it was… unsettling to see Gleb's emotions so easily on display the way they were now, but it was a kind of unsettling that she could get used to.

Even though he had already shared the darkest part of his past to her, she felt that Gleb had always maintained a strong front where she was concerned, something that had intensified with Alexei's coming. He tended to measure the feelings he was willing to show – she knew he didn't want her to worry, didn't want her to doubt him. Yet, she sometimes wondered how much of the real Gleb she had been made privy to.

The vodka seemed to be punching through the walls he had built up for himself, opening a window into the rawness of him. Not that she wanted him perpetually drunk…but she wanted to see more.

The drink was now more than halfway gone, and Lily was simply watching Nana and Gleb with mirth.

"I think Her Majesty is winning," she commented. Gleb sat up a little straighter and grabbed his glass.

"This isn't a competition, Lily," Anya pointed out, trying to stifle her amusement at Gleb's insulted expression.

"You don't want to keep score?" Lily sighed, looking disappointed.

"I've never even seen him drink since I've known him. He's at a disadvantage." Anya peeked at him as he finished another shot.

His face was flushed, and as he put the glass down, he leaned his head on her shoulder. "I might have had enough," he mumbled into her neck.

Across the table, Nana's eyebrows shot up, and Gleb jerked suddenly. The top of his head nearly slammed into Anya's chin.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed. He shook his head as though trying to clear it and cradled her face in his hands, checking if she was hurt. "Did I –"

"No, you didn't," she assured him quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a smirk on Nana's lips, partially hidden behind the rim of her glass.

Gleb turned in Nana's direction, glaring. Without taking his eyes off her, he trailed his mouth lightly across Anya's forehead. Anya froze, not sure how she was supposed to react now. She was enjoying his attention, if she was honest. It felt like she hadn't had enough of it in a while. But he was acting out of spite.

Apparently satisfied that she was unharmed, Gleb ran a thumb along her cheek before letting go of her face. Anya felt her cheeks burn, and she could see Nana's eyes, like daggers piercing holes into Gleb. He returned Nana's glare, and they both picked up their drinks.

"Shouldn't we be stopping them?" Anya whispered loudly to Lily.

"Someone has to finish the vodka, and I'm not letting go of this sweet little thing," Lily replied. "It won't be long anyway."

Red began to tinge Nana's neck, although her posture remained ramrod straight. Nonetheless, Gleb seemed undeterred as he tried to keep up.

Concerned, Anya nudged his foot with hers under the table. "Gleb, maybe you should ease up."

Gleb stiffened. "Stop kicking me," he hissed at Nana.

"That was me –" Anya tried to protest.

"I will not be mistreated by the likes of you." Another splash of vodka went into his glass and Anya winced.

Nana rolled her eyes. "Listen to your princess, and do as you're told. Know when you're beaten."

Spurred, Gleb started drinking even faster. Anya looked helplessly at Lily.

"Subordinates need to be taught their place," Nana went on mercilessly.

"Your Majesty –" Lily began hesitantly. Nana held up her hand, and Lily fell silent.

"For the good of Russia!" Nana slammed her glass down on the table.

Gleb's hand shook, and he took a shuddering breath. He hunched over his plate.

Then he burst into a sob.

"RUSSIA," he wailed.

"Oh dear," Lily exclaimed.

"Nana," Anya reached out to rub Gleb's back. "That probably wasn't the best thing to say –"

"Murderers and liars and thieves – that's what Russia is!" Nana declared. Beside her, Lily hurriedly cupped a hand over Alexei's exposed ear.

"She is not," Gleb argued thickly. His shoulders heaved harder.

"If that rat-infested spit of land were not, you would not be here, hiding," Nana retorted.

"Our rats are clean!" Gleb shot back, sniffling. He knocked back another drink, and Anya tried to grab the glass from his hand.

Nana snatched the bottle, which was only a quarter full now, up. "You bathe the rats, do you? Rats are never clean – that is why they're rats. But filth never recognizes filth, does it?"

Gleb looked stricken, and Anya felt dread twist her insides. "Lily, we have to do something."

"You know, we could replace the vodka with water and they'll never know at this rate," Lily suggested.

"You don't know what it's like!" Gleb yelled. "I had to live with rats! Why? Because we were poor! Why don't you recognize that?"

Nana sucked in a breath. There seemed to be hesitation on her face. Without replying, she downed another drink. Meanwhile, Gleb had buried his face in his hands.

Anya wrapped her arms around him. "Gleb, shh," she whispered soothingly into his ear. He turned to her and buried his face in her neck. Between the sniffling, she could make out mutterings of "Mama."

His mother. He had never talked about her, not once. Anya had only been able to assume that she had died before he joined the army, based on his stories. But it was clear she had been important to him, and Anya ached to know how and why.

Lily had gone to lay Alexei in his bassinet, and as soon as she returned to the table, she tried tugging the nearly-empty bottle out of Nana's hand. "I – think – we've all had – enough – vodka – Your Majesty."

"I will decide when I've had enough!" Nana snatched the bottle back.

"Your Majesty, you're not exactly…young anymore," Lily tried.

Nana stood. "I am an adult," she declared indignantly. But she stumbled and almost dropped the bottle. Lily caught it and placed it safely out of Nana's reach in the middle of the table.

"Oh," Nana mumbled, seemingly astounded at her slip. Her forehead was pink.

"Yes you are, Your Majesty," Lily commented dryly as she supported Nana on her arm and began leading her to the sofa.

At last, the night's activity seemed to be winding down. Anya glanced down at Gleb, whose crying had quieted down to whimpers. "It's over, Gleb." She rubbed his back soothingly.

His grip on her tightened. "Don't –" he began. Just then, Alexei began to cry.

"I think it's time for bed." Anya nudged Gleb gently with her shoulder.

"Help," he mumbled.

"Stay," she commanded. "I'll be fine."

Obediently, he slid his face from her neck and right into his plate. Anya sighed, trying not to roll her eyes in exasperation as she went to check on their son.

Lily glanced over from where she was sitting beside a now-sleeping Nana. "Need a hand?"

Anya looked back at the dinner table. "Can you help me watch Alexei while I take care of Gleb?"

"Of course. I'm done for the night." Lily took one last look at Nana before rising from the couch. Anya lifted Alexei into her arms, which tempered his crying a little. Behind her, Lily took up the bassinet.

He relaxed as soon as they were in the comforting darkness of his room, and Anya gently placed him into the bassinet. She leaned down and kissed his eyelids lightly.

"Be a good boy for Lily while I take care of your papa," she whispered. Alexei responded with a loud exhale through his nose.

"Of course he will. Now go before your husband drowns himself in stew," Lily hissed. Anya ran her fingers through the fringe of dark hair on Alexei's head one more time before heading back outside.

Gleb was as she had left him. He seemed to have fallen asleep on his plate, and she shook him gently. "Come on, Gleb. Time for bed."

He lifted his head, and his nose was coated in sauce. "Dinner."

"Yeah, we never quite had that," Anya muttered.

"Vodka," he mumbled.

"I hid the vodka," she replied quickly, hoping he was too far gone to spot the bottle still on the table.

He blinked at her, the picture of despair. "Anya, I thought you loved me. Why would thing do a you like that?" he whined, the words running together.

"Gleb, you're too drunk to be alive right now." Anya slung his arm across her shoulders and tried to heave him up from the chair.

With visible effort, he supported some of his weight enough for them to stand. Anya began maneuvering them in the direction of their bedroom.

"I'm drunk not," he grumbled.

"Sure you're not." She grunted as he slumped and the weight on her shoulders increased.

"I'm fine," he insisted into her hair.

The bedroom was only a short distance away, but it seemed to take forever to get there. It was a relief when she could finally let Gleb tumble off her back and drop like a stone onto the mattress.

She wet a cloth in the bathroom and carefully wiped the remains of dinner off his face as he began to breathe deeply in sleep. He looked fully at rest for the first time since their wedding, and she reached out to trace his hairline with his fingers.

There was suddenly a lot she wanted to ask him. It hadn't seemed important before – they had been in love, and all she knew was that she wanted Gleb to stay with her, hoped he could finally quell the nightmares that plagued her. Not long after that, their lives had become a whirlwind of danger, discovery, and upheaval. Before they'd had the opportunity to reconcile themselves to their new reality, Alexei came along, and life had become all about practicality.

Gleb had done his best to be happy with his lot, and he barely so much as mentioned Russia these days. But the alcohol had betrayed how much she still mattered to him. Anya's chest tightened with guilt – only when his inhibitions were loosened did he feel as though he could express his longing. She needed to let him know he was safe to miss Russia with her, that it was safe to be honest.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to his forehead – something she now knew her mother used to do for her.

"Anya?" he murmured. His eyes opened again, bleary. His hand reached out, searching, until it found her arm and tugged her down. Losing her balance, she landed on top of him.

"I love you even without vodka." With that, his eyes fluttered closed again, one hand over her back.

She could smell the drink on his breath – he would deeply regret this night in the morning. But she was going to be there, waiting with a cure and an open heart.

"I love you too."

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone for liking and reviewing and wishing for more on this fic! It took a while, but we've finally gotten to The Many Stages of Drunk Gleb (aka, The Dumpster Fire and the Crying Bolshevik)!

I will be honest, this entire chapter was actually inspired by the infamous Community Pizza gif because I had no idea where I was going with this at first. Proving that ideas really can come from literally anywhere!

And I will be amiss if I don't credit my sweet child espresso-martini on Tumblr for contributing significantly to this fic by talking through ideas with me and offering so much valuable input on drunk people (I quote her verbatim in this chapter). I lov u, my girl!

I might follow up with snippets of the story from Anya's POV next time, or maybe oneshots from my vision of their far future :D

Feel free to say hi or drop into my Tumblr inbox (blue3ski) anytime! I welcome prompts, comments, violent reactions... (OK, maybe less of that :)))

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