Chapter Text
Ilya was violating his contract with the Raiders and probably his apartment lease by smoking inside of the house when he received a text message from Shane.
Jane
[1 image]
The photo was of a brand fucking new baby who was still scrunched up from being inside their mother. It reminded Ilya of his niece when she came home from the hospital. The baby was small, red faced, with dark blonde hair and watery bluish eyes. She was pretty cute though.
Ilya wasn’t sure why Shane was sending him a photo of a random newborn. Was it a teammate’s kid? The baby was a sandy blonde so perhaps it was the Pike family’s new edition. Ilya wasn’t sure.
Lily
Cute! Whose baby is that?
Ilya had learned that even if babies were scrunched up and alien, people were supposed to say that babies were cute, although this baby seemed to be particularly cute. There was just something about them that made Ilya smile.
Jane
Are you alone?
Lily
Yes
Jane
She’s ours
Lily
What?
Jane
I had a baby an hour ago
Lily
Tell me you are joking
Jane
[1 image]
The attached image was a selfie of Shane in a hospital bed with a baby on his chest.
What the fuck? Had Shane had a fucking baby? Had Shane just had Ilya’s fucking baby? No fucking way. He needed proof.
Lily
Call me
Jane
Can’t, my mom is in here and I haven’t told her who the dad is yet
Lily
This better not be a joke, Hollander
Jane
It’s not a joke
Jane
[2 images]
The first image was a photo of Shane’s with an armband that read Unlisted Purple and noted that he had a baby in the nursery. The second photo was of the ankle of a baby, where a tiny hospital bracelet reads: Unlisted Purple, Baby Girl with a time stamp of almost an hour ago.
Lily
Call me now!!!!!
Jane
Hold on, I’m going to ask my mom to get me a cheeseburger
Jane
Okay they just asked me if I want to give her vaccines. They said they’re coming back in 10 minutes to give her her shots.
Ilya hit the call button immediately. He was shaking because he was still not sure any of this was real. How could this be real? Hollander swapped the call over to a video call. Hollander was still in the hospital bed and there was a very tiny sleeping human on his chest.
“This is your baby, our baby,” Shane sounded loopy, not like he was high or anything just like he was exhausted and running on adrenaline. “I thought I had appendicitis but it turns out it was a baby.”
“Holy shit, Hollander,” Ilya said. “Is she real?”
As if she’d heard his question and was offended by it, the baby gave a little squeak. She was so small and tiny that it made Ilya’s heart hurt.
Holy shit. That was a real fucking baby. It would be a long length to go to for a prank. And Shane didn’t exactly do pranks.
“You had a baby?” Ilya asked. He couldn’t breathe. Shane had just had a baby? Shane had just had Ilya’s baby?
“Yes, like 72 minutes ago,” Shane responded. He stroked the baby’s back.
“I’m going to book a flight.” How long would it take Ilya to get there. “Can you text me what hospital you’re at?” Shit shit. Did Canada have visa rules if he wasn’t entering for a game? Ilya couldn’t fucking remember. Stupid fucking Russian passport.
“We’re in Boston, actually,” Shane said.
“Why are you in Boston?” Ilya asked.
“Meeting with a doctor about my shoulder. I wasn’t loving how my collarbone healed and wanted to discuss options,” Shane answered. “We were supposed to leave today.”
It wasn’t uncommon for athletes to be in Boston consulting with orthopedic surgeons. Boston had the best orthopedic surgeons in the world.
“Holy shit,” Ilya breathed. “What hospital are you at?”
Shane gave the name of the hospital and Ilya put it into his GPS. Google Maps said it would take 27 minutes. Apple Maps said 26. That was too long His mind was spinning. Shane had a baby. Shane had Ilya’s fucking baby. And he was in Boston.
“Are you okay?” Ilya asked as he got dressed. “Are you healthy?” Ilya knew that people died during childbirth. Babies did too.
“It hurt like a fucking bitch,” Shane groaned. “Women are amazing for doing this for centuries . It happened so fast I didn’t even get pain meds.”
Shane kissed the head of the baby and Ilya’s heart hurt. He wanted so badly to be there so he could hold her, memorize her tiny features, and give her a kiss just like Shane had.
She was beautiful.
Ilya was going to get there as fast as he could.
* * *
Shane had to tell his mom because someone had to let Rozanov in and give him a wristband. They'd already let Shane know he could use a private elevator and have limited physicians and nurses coming in, barring an emergency, which, because Shane and the baby were apparently both healthy, did not include the fact that Shane had had a baby he didn’t know about two hours ago.
Shane did not want a random nurse giving Ilya Rozanov a wristband. He wanted his secret contained to as few people as possible, and besides, Rozanov was on his way and Mom would definitely notice a fucking giant Russian hockey player holding the baby that was currently in Shane’s arms.
Speaking of, Shane kept forgetting he was holding a real, breathing baby and that she was his, and that he was a dad (or Appa; Shane hadn’t decided). She was so small and blonde and beautiful and she looked like Shane and fucking Ilya.
Holy shit.
Mom brought Shane’s cheeseburger back in the room and Shane found he was reluctant to let the tiny sleeping baby on his chest go.
“You need to eat,” Mom said. “Do you want me to hold her?”
Shane, instead of responding to Mom’s question because if he didn’t tell his mom about it now, he’d lose his nerve, said: “Her other father is Ilya Rozanov and he’s on his way here.”
Mom nearly dropped Shane’s cheeseburger.
“Sweetie, can you say that again?” Mom asked. She looked like she thought maybe the stress of the day had caused hallucinations.
“Ilya Rozanov and I have been…” Shane trailed off. “Messing around.”
“Maybe a bit more than messing around,” Mom said with a soft look at the baby, Shane’s daughter. Shane’s fucking daughter. “That explains why she’s blonde,” Mom said.
“Are you mad at me?” Shane asked.
“Why would I be mad, sweetie?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know. I just, I had a baby.” Maybe Mom would be mad about Ilya or mad that Shane has been sleeping with the enemy.
“You had a baby,” Mom said. “I’m not mad that you had a baby.”
“I had sex,” Shane said needlessly. “With my rival.”
“That part is a little surprising,” Mom said with a little chuckle. “But I’m not mad. It’s going to be okay.”
“What if something is wrong with her?” Shane asked. “I swear I didn’t know. I took so many hits. I cut calories, I-“
“Shane, sweetheart, it's okay. You didn’t know. You had no reason to think you were pregnant. You just had a baby.”
Shane thought for a second and then realized… “Oh my god. Did you call dad?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“He’s on his way. He’s driving. He should be here in a couple hours.”
“Oh my god,” Shane groaned. “Dad is going to know I had sex with Ilya Rozanov.”
“I think your dad is going to care a little more about having a granddaughter than he is about who you made her with, honey.” Mom reached out and stroked his hair. “Now, why don’t you let her Baa-Baa hold her so you can eat?”
Shane was reluctant to let the tiny person go but he was fucking starving. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted a cheeseburger because he never fucking ate them but it was the only thing that sounded remotely edible.
Shane ate his cheeseburger and watched Mom coo at the baby. “You’re just the cutest little girl aren’t you? You have your daddy’s nose.” Mom tapped it.
Shane smiled. Holy shit. His mom was a grandma because Shane was a dad. Holy shit.
The baby fussed, a light little whimper that made Shane zero in on her.
“She probably wants her daddy back,” Mol said.
Shane was someone’s daddy. Mom handed Shane his baby back. The baby grunted and then settled against Shane’s chest.
Holy shit.
She was so small but also entirely too big to have been inside of Shane until 2 hours ago.
What the fuck?
“Mom, I don’t know how to raise a baby,” Shane blurted. “I’m a fucking professional hockey player. How am I supposed to raise a baby?”
“It’ll be okay.”
“No it’s not. Mom we don’t have anything for a baby. My apartment is so unsafe for a baby. I,” Shane couldn’t breathe.
Worse yet, it seemed like the baby could tell Shane was getting upset because her breath quickened too. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?
Mom started humming, an old melody she used to use to help Shane calm down before juniors games. When hockey started getting serious, the crowds had gotten overwhelming. Mom knew when he sometimes needed a minute at tournaments and would sometimes shuffle him into the car or anywhere else that was quiet and private and she would hum until Shane could breathe again.
She’d take Shane into the quiet place she could find and she’d start humming melodies. These were old songs, unlike the French and English songs of Shane’s childhood. These were songs mom’s Dad sang to her.
Shane listened to his mom’s hum. He concentrated on it.
His breathing slowed and somehow, so did the baby’s. What the fuck?
“She’s attuned to you,” Mom said. “Her heart rate, her breath, they match yours because that’s what she’s heard since she’s had ears. She knows what you smell like. And she knows that you are hers, even if you don’t feel like she’s yours yet.”
Shane looked down at his baby, who looked up at him. She had this look, like Shane wasn’t a stranger, but like he was an old friend, someone she knew, someone she had always known. And that was true. She’d only ever known Shane.
Shane couldn’t stop staring at the baby that looked so much like him and so much like Ilya.
The baby started to fuss. Shane wondered if she was hungry. The nurses had taught Shane how to feed her with his body. Well, there was one nurse who was apparently a lactation consultant who had asked Shane if he wanted to try formula or human milk. She’d asked Shane about top surgery (which Shane hadn’t had because being an elite athlete had delayed his puberty long enough that he never had tits and then puberty blockers and T had taken care of most of that.)
Still, when the nurse had explained to Shane that feeding the baby with his body even once would help give her antibodies to build her immune system, would coat her stomach in healthy fat that would help her transition to any milk, including formula, and, that, at most, she would only need it for 5-10 minutes at a time at first, Shane had acquiesced.
He’d closed his eyes and let his mom and the nurse get the baby settled on his chest. Feeding her wasn’t as bad as Shane thought it would be. Uncomfortable and weird, yes, but also for some reason it felt weirdly nice. Shane didn’t think he wanted to do it exclusively and he especially didn’t want to be milked like a cow, but he was fine doing it for a few days, especially if it was good for his baby.
Before Shane could consider if the baby was hungry any further, Shane’s phone started buzzing.
It was Ilya.
“Mom,” Shane said. “Ilya’s here.”
* * *
Ilya wasn’t sure what the protocol was for meeting your rival/fuck buddy’s mom in the parking garage of a hospital on your way to meet your daughter that no one, including the father of your daughter who was pregnant with her, knew about until two hours ago. He was pretty sure there was no protocol.
“I’m Yuna Hollander, Shane’s mom,” Yuna said calmly. She was very pretty up close. Ilya had never seen her up this close.
“I’m Ilya Rozanov, Shane and I are…” Ilya trailed off because he had no idea how to describe it.
“You and Shane just had a baby,” Yuma supplied.
Ilya nodded.
Yuna sized Ilya up. “After you meet her, we are going to talk. Understood?”
Ilya nodded. That was fair, more than fair. He was a complete stranger who had put a baby in her son.
A baby.
Holy shit.
“How are you feeling?” Yuna asked.
There was no English words for how Ilya was feeling or at least not English words that Ilya knew.
“I don’t know,” Ilya answered. “This doesn’t, this doesn’t feel real. “ It still felt like a super weird dream.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Yuna said softly. “But she’s beautiful. Have you called your parents?”
“No, they’re dead,” Ilya answered. “My mother when I was 12. My father died earlier this year but he was not a good man.”
Yuna’s face fell. “Is there anyone else you can call?” She asked.
Ilya shrugged. “My brother, but he would not want to know. He is not happy that I am partially gay.” Ilya put his hands in his pocket. He could call Svetlana, seeing as she knew about Shane, but that was about it.
“Can I give you a hug?” Yuna asked.
Ilya nodded.
Yuna pulled him into a hug and Ilya nearly broke. It had been a very long time since Ilya had been hugged by a mom. He couldn’t help the wet sob he let out. Yuna rubbed his back in soothing circles.
Yuna started humming something Ilya didn’t recognize the melody of, but I was soothing and helped Ilya catch his breath.
“Okay,” she said once she pulled away. “Are you ready to meet your daughter?”
Ilya wasn’t sure he was ready but he was going to anyway.
* * *
She was so small. Like, barely came all the way to the crook of Ilya’s elbow small.
She had watery blue eyes and a shock of blonde curls and, most devastatingly, her nose crunched exactly like Shane’s did.
She was fucking perfect.
“Holy shit,” Ilya said. The baby furrowed her brow for a second and Ilya’s bottom dropped from under him. He’d seen his mom make that same face when he lied. He never thought he’d see it on another person again. “Holy shit, Hollander.”
Ilya looked up at Hollander, who was smiling. “It’s weird, right?” He asked. “Seeing us on another person?”
“Holy shit, Hollander,” Ilya repeated. How the fuck was she made of Ilya and Shane? How the fuck did she look like both Ilya and Shane?
The baby started fussing, a light, soft, tiny wail. Ilya panicked. “Did I do something wrong? Is she hungry?”
The baby kept whimpering, her lips quivering in a way that totally devastated Ilya.
“Try talking to her,” Yuna suggested.
“Hi,” Ilya whispered. “Hi.” She quieted some. Talking was working. “I love you,” he said softly in Russian to her.
Ilya waited with bated breath as her whines changed into soft grunts, like maybe she’d just been testing how her voice worked but now she was soothed by the sound of Ilya’s voice.
If she didn’t look so much like a mix of Ilya and Shane, Ilya wouldn’t have believed she was theirs.
One of the precious few things he’d brought home from Russia was a photo of his mom as an infant. It had weathered a number of storms and Ilya felt like he was looking right at it except the baby had dirty blonde hair. She looked so much like his mom that it hurt. And yet, she had the best features of Shane too.
She was perfect.
There was a sharp surge of anger that Ilya could not stop from bubbling. Had Ilya’s dad ever felt like this? And if he did, how could he have terrorized Ilya his entire childhood? How? The thought of yelling at this tiny perfect human made Ilya want to cry. The thought of hitting her? If he ever even thought about hitting her he’d probably find the tallest building and jump. How could his father have hurt him? His heart squeezed.
She was so beautiful and perfect and wonderful.
“I love you,” he said again in Russian. He took a second to memorize the features on her. She was so beautiful and so ridiculously small. He looked up at Hollander who was watching the two of them, mostly the baby.
Ilya looked at Shane.
“How to say I love you in French?”
Shane grinned. “I don’t think it matters if you say it in Russian or French or English.”
“Yes, but what if she only knows French because she only heard French in Montreal,” Ilya responded. “I want to make sure she knows.”
“Je t’aime de tout mon cœur,” Shane responded. “It means. I love you with all of my heart.”
Ilya definitely could not repeat what Shane said so he said: “Okay, you can say it to her in French. I’ll say it to her in Russian. She knows three languages before school. Good.”
Shane laughed.
After a bit the baby started fussing for real.
“She might be hungry,” Yuna said. She looked at Shane, who made a face.
“I can feed her,” Shane said.
“The nurse brought formula samples,” Yuna pointed.
“I said I can feed her,” Shane snapped. “They said it’s good for her. Just… I need to be alone when I do it.”
“Alright,” Yuna said. “If you’re sure.”
Shane nodded.
“Your dad is calling,” Yuna said. “he’s probably here. Ilya, why don’t we go get David from the parking garage?” Yuna suggested. So this was going to be the aforementioned conversation.
Ilya was reluctant to leave Shane and the baby but it definitely sounded like Shane wanted privacy to feed the baby. Ilya could guess pretty well based on teammates wives with young babies what that meant.
Plus, Yuna was probably itching to talk to Ilya.
Ilya had never really been on the receiving end of a shovel talk. He’d never really been close enough to someone for that to happen.
But, there was a first for everything.