There's no holding back the tears by the time Grace finishes her explanation. Vanya closes her eyes, head bowed forward because it's easier not to look - or maybe because she learned that not being seen is easier to bear when you don't expect it - and tears spill down her cheeks, hot and stinging.

She's got a death grip on Grace's hand, because anything could end this moment and she wants so badly to prolong it, to be here in these, what, ten seconds for the rest of her life. There are so many things that Vanya has needed to hear, and more than that, needed to believe. Grace could always tell them she was proud, but as V got older, it meant so much less. By the time she left the academy on a mostly permanent basis - high school at a boarding school, only back for winter and summer - so much of what Mom said felt like vapor. It was noticeable, appreciated, but stopped doing much to bolster her. By the time she went to college - well. The first time she came home since leaving was for Dad's funeral.

Things are different now. Noticeably: this frank discussion, the apocalypse she left behind, her powers and how terrified they make her. "I'm. I love you too." She has to bite her tongue to keep from apologizing for not saying it earlier. She can't remember the last time she did.