Chapter Text
April-2015
Shane has a plan for everything. His meals. His day. His week. His life. It brings a sense of calm and control to him, and even if something minor deviates from his set plan, he's always had an itch under his skin and a frustration that it wasn't going right.
Hayden mocked him endlessly for having a list or a planner for everything. But it's what keeps him sane.
The last thing he hadn't planned for, though, was for a two week old little girl to show up at his door with a birth certificate with his name under who is the father.
One DNA test later only confirmed it.
"Shhh," he soothes, bouncing as cries fill the silent apartment.
His entire life plan might as well have exploded, and now he is left with a daughter he's had to learn how to take care of in the last two weeks.
It's only been two weeks? He feels like it's been a month.
Of course his parents have been a lifesaver, staying with him for the first week. He was on the road for a few days. And even when he was here, they stayed to help anyway.
But now he has a stretch of home games, and he needs to figure out how to do this on his own.
So far, not going so great.
Lucie screams any time he puts her in her crib, and at the moment, she still isn't all that happy to be in his arms.
Today was grueling to begin with. Only a few hours of sleep, then morning skate, plus a game against Boston—one he'd rather forget with how horrible he was. Thank god for the babysitter Jackie recommended. Without her, his parents would not have been able to leave.
"Please stop crying." At this point, Shane might just start crying too. He's done it all. Fed her, changed her, even tried singing her to sleep. Nothing is making her happy, and he feels like such a failure.
Lucie is tiny in his arms, her head resting on his collarbone, a way he's learned she likes to be held. And finally, she starts to settle and fall quiet.
Shane sighs a breath of relief.
Aside from tonight, he actually feels like he's getting the hang of this. And yeah, was it a part of his plan? No. But the amount of love and protectiveness he has for this little girl from the second he saw her in the car seat, it's unmatched to anything he's felt before.
He'd do anything for her.
He'd also do anything for a good night's sleep.
And to clean up his apartment. It's like a baby store threw up in here.
He normally keeps his place very organized, clean floors, countertops wiped down, fridge stocked with meal prep, but it's been hard to keep up with it all. Meals are kind of the only thing he's kept up with, and that's because of his chef who preps his food for the week.
Shane keeps his voice low, whispering in a soothing tone. "If I put you down, will you start screaming again? Mmm?"
Lucie appears to be asleep as far as he can tell, so he goes over to the mini crib in the living room. His spare bedroom is a nursery now, but he's found it easier to have a safe place to put her in his living room so he can get a little cleaning done while she sleeps, although nine times out of ten she ends up on his chest with him lying on the couch.
Ever so delicately, he bends over the siding of the crib and lies her on her back. He stands there frozen for a second to make sure she's not going to wake up and admires his little girl.
She's so adorable in her onesie and what little hair she's got on her head, and his lips tug up softly.
How did he get so lucky to call this cute little girl his?
Well, he slept with a woman for starters after being butt hurt for being ghosted by Rozanov. Was it the best sex? Not even close. Rather embarrassing, to be honest. But he refused to be the guy who waited around for some fucking guy to text back. And Serena was nice when he met her at a bar JJ and Hayden convinced him to go to.
And she was patient when it took him a while to get into it.
Shane slowly backs away, victory triumphing in his body as if he's just scored a goal. And he feels it's earned a little celly, and so he pumps a fist close to his chest. Then his bare foot steps back on something hard and pain shoots across his skin.
"Fuck." He hisses, stumbling, making his steps loud on the floor. He freezes the second he finds his balance and holds his breath. Gaze sliding over to the crib, he relaxes at the fact she's still asleep.
Phew. That was close.
A harsh knock on his front door sounds out and panic surges through him.
He rushes to the door and cracks it open, frustrated and a little pissed at whoever has the audacity to knock on his door after 10PM.
But his face falls at the sight of Ilya Rozanov on the other side.
Shane blinks in confusion.
Ilya, though, smirks at his disheveled appearance. Sweatpants and a tee on, and Hollander's hair is sticking up in multiple directions. "Start without me?"
Lips parted, Shane's brain clears. Fuck. He'd been texting Rozanov since the summer after the NHL Awards, hooking up a couple of times throughout the fall and spring.
And double fuck. They planned on meeting up after the game. It's the last game against each other in the regular season before playoffs.
It completely left his mind. Rozanov teased him about meeting a couple of weeks ago, but nothing since, and then Lucie showed up, and Shane's mind was consumed with other things.
"Fuck," Shane whispers. "I-I—shit."
Ilya arches a brow as Hollander glances over his shoulder into his apartment.
"I completely forgot." Shane's eyes fall close.
Ouch. Ilya tries to mock his hurt by nodding, attempting to come up with some joke or teasing line, but then a sharp cry echoes from inside the apartment.
"Nooo." Shane lolls his head back, turning and abandoning the cracked door.
Ilya follows him inside and his mouth falls open. What... the... fuck?
Shane picks up Lucie, and thankfully, she stops screaming, but is still fussy. He shushes her and coos soft words as he bounces gently.
Ilya's gaze rolls over the chaos that is Hollander's apartment, slipping off his shoes. Ilya can't remember when a single pillow was out of place, let alone... baby toys, burp cloths, clothes, and so many things Ilya can't even name. Is he hallucinating? Dreaming? Because since when the fuck did Hollander have a baby?
"Are you babysitting?" Is all Ilya can get out. It's the only logical answer.
Shane turns back to Rozanov. "What? No. Oh. No, no. She's mine."
What the actual fuck? This is not information you just dump on someone. Ilya's face is beyond bewildered. "Since when?"
"Since two weeks ago?"
"Oh, you have wife too?" Ilya's never noticed a wedding band.
"What?" Shane says in disbelief, then Lucie fusses a little louder, so he lowers his voice. "You think if I had a wife, I'd be fucking you?"
Ilya tosses his hands into the air. "I don't know!"
"Lower your voice." Shane hisses, but it sounds more desperate than angry. "And... look, it's a long stor—"
Lucie apparently doesn't like how aggressive his bouncing has gotten—accidentally. Forgive him, a lot is happening, and it's hard to maintain a soft, even rhythm. Her fussing turns more into a cry.
Ilya watches Hollander console the baby while walking back and forth in front of the TV. Okay, so he's not married, that's good. For a second there, a terrifying realization struck Ilya that he didn't really care about being the other woman—other man? Hollander's side piece? None of it matters, anyway. He's not married.
But Ilya still has so many questions.
Another terrifying thing hits Ilya, though. Seeing Hollander with a baby makes his chest feel all warm and fuzzy. Odd. He shakes off the sensation.
"Do you want help?" The words slip out of Ilya's mouth before he knows it's happening. He's good with babies. His teammates have a few and they all seem to love him, so maybe he can do a better job than Hollander at the moment.
Shane stares at Rozanov and thinks, but desperation wins. His arms are about to fall off. "I—sure. Wash up first."
Last thing he needs is germs from unclean hands to get his baby sick.
Ilya goes over to his sink in the kitchen, getting them nice and clean before carefully taking the baby from Hollander.
Shane subconsciously keeps bouncing, arms kept close to his chest, as he never tears his gaze from his little girl and Rozanov.
To his absolute shock, Lucie calms. Her fussing quiets after a minute, and she settles in his arms.
Relief—and slight jealousy—has Shane's shoulders sagging, also realizing he's bouncing and stops. "Since when are you good with babies?"
"Mm—teammates love to bring theirs to the rink. They love me." Ilya can't seem to pull his eyes off the tiny thing cradled in the crook of his arm. But for a second, he peeks up at Hollander, then back to the baby. "She looks like you."
"T-thank you?" His mom said the same thing.
Ilya chuckles, making his way back to stand in front of Hollander. "What is her name?"
"Lucie."
"Cute."
"Yeah..." Shane takes his daughter back when Ilya hands her over. "Well, you can thank Serena for that. I had no say."
A weird ping of jealousy pricks at Ilya for some reason. He has no right—he doesn't even care if Hollander sleeps with others. Ilya sleeps with other women. So what.
Ilya trails behind Hollander to the kitchen, taking a seat at the center island, while Hollander stands on the opposite side. "Her mother?"
"Yeah," Shane answers, then lets out a quiet snort. "I didn't even know Lucie existed until two weeks ago."
Ilya's brows shoot up to his hairline. "No? You had no idea?"
"Nope. No clue Serena was pregnant." Shane gazes down at Lucie, delicately brushing his thumb over her dark hair, leaning back against the countertop across from the island. "Just... got a call from the bellman saying someone left a baby and said she was mine."
"Wow."
Shane flicks his eyes to him and sees the genuine shock. "Yeah."
"So..." Ilya leans forward on his elbows that rest on the countertop, English failing him. "She's not... involved?"
"No. She just left her." Shane still can't wrap his head around how someone could do that.
For all Serena knows, Shane could be some terrible person and she just... abandoned her daughter with him without even talking to him. Without even facing him. Only a note in the backpack which said some variation of an excuse of not wanting to be a mom after all, and if Shane didn't want her, he could put her up for adoption.
He understands not wanting to be a mom, but no part of him understands abandoning a child the way she did. None of it was handled right.
And for how it changes so much of his life, he can't imagine giving up Lucie now. He's always known he'd like to have kids one day, and after his mom talked him off a panic attack, he decided he'd make it work. Whatever it took.
"Did you not use a condom?" Ilya asks randomly. "Like.. that night."
Shane's cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Of course."
"Did you put it on right?"
Shane scuffs, trying to ignore how his face is flushed. "I know how condoms work."
Ilya lifts one brow and looks at Lucie. "Do you?"
"Yes." Shane defends. "Condoms aren't always effective—I'm not having this conversation with you."
Shane isn't sure what happened. Maybe it broke and he didn't realize or what, but after some research, turns out they are like ninety-eight percent effective. Whatever happened, Lucie is the result.
Said daughter whose eyes blink up at Shane and her lips begin to tremble. No. No. No. She was happy. Guess not anymore, because a sharp cry pierces through the air.
"What now?" Ilya says. "She stopped. We fixed it. Why she crying?"
"I don't know." Shane paces the kitchen as Lucie gets more and more fussy, so he tenderly shifts her and supports her head as it lies on his collarbone.
"Is something wrong with her?" Ilya asks. Man, this little girl has some lungs.
Shane glares at him. "No. Nothing is wrong with her. Babies cry."
"You sure?"
"The pediatrician said she was healthy."
Lucie screams in his ear, and he winces. Exhausted and about to have a meltdown himself, Shane desperately tries to soothe his daughter. Anything. Soft words. Shush noises like how the books said.
"Maybe she's hungry?" Ilya suggests.
"I fed her like an hour ago."
"Still could be hungry." Not that Ilya knows anything about babies, but he has a strange urge to comfort the little girl.
Shane drops his head back. "The books said every two hours."
Although, the last bottle she had, Lucie spit up most of it. He isn't sure how much she really got.
"Okay," Shane swallows, nodding for some reason. It's like his body is on autopilot. "Bottle. Help me fix one."
"How?" Ilya pushes to stand.
Shane juts his chin toward the machine on the counter as he continues to walk around his kitchen. "There. All you have to do is push the button."
Ilya stares at the coffee machine looking thing as if it will suddenly start working. "What button?"
"The start button."
There are like five buttons Ilya's fingers hover over. "Which start button? There are a lot. Which one?"
"The middle one!"
Lucie apparently doesn't like the yelling and wails too.
Ilya's finger is about to push the button, but then Hollander quickly stops him.
"No, no. A bottle, Rozanov." Shane's voice is a little louder than he intended. "You have to put a bottle under it."
"Well, where is a bottle?!" Ilya's gaze scans beside the machine and spots a collection of glass baby bottles. He reaches for one.
"No, she doesn't like that one."
Ilya rolls his eyes and throws up his hand. "It's a bottle!"
"She doesn't like the nipple!"
Ilya motions back to the bottles lined up on the counter. "I don't know what nipple she likes."
Shane is about to answer, then remembers all the ones she likes are dirty. "Fuck. They're in the sink."
With only Lucie's tiny gasps and cries to fill the quiet, Ilya goes to the sink and holds up a bottle.
"Yes," Shane says, seeing one last clean bottle in the cleaner. "Wait!"
Ilya withholds the urge to glare at Hollander, only a little, the look he gives Hollander is close to one. "What now?"
Shane cradles Lucie with a hand on her head and one beneath her bottom, swaying. "There's a clean one in the bottle cleaner."
"What is that?" Ilya holds his arms out, his Russian accent making his words harsh.
"It's right there in front of you!"
Ilya lifts the lid to the incubator looking contraption and grabs the last bottle. "This?"
"Yes!" Shane sighs. "Now, put it under the machine like a coffee maker."
"I got it." Ilya does just that and pushes the button, the machine humming to life. "That it?"
"Yes," Shane whispers, and Lucie's screams calm to more of a fussy cry, gasping between them.
Ilya drags his hands down his face in exhaustion and huffs out a breath. "This is very stressful."
"No shit."
The first night when Shane had to do it all by himself, he didn't get a wink of sleep. Even if Lucie was peacefully asleep, he was so nervous and scared to fall asleep, he ended up sitting beside her crib until she needed him. The nights that followed were a bit better. Although he is still mainly working on three hours of sleep most days. Unless he's on the road.
Oddly, having Rozanov's help is a huge relief. If he was alone right now, no doubt Lucie wouldn't be the only one crying.
Once the bottle is full, Ilya screws on the lid and hands it over to Hollander. Ilya anxiously watches and hopes it makes Lucie stop crying, and it does, she starts eating only fighting Hollander a little.
"You take her." Shane waits for Rozanov to take Lucie, but when he doesn't do anything, Shane flicks his gaze up to see Rozanov's eyes widen. "What?"
"You want me to feed her?"
"Yes. You literally just held her. What's the difference?"
"I-I don't know what to do."
Shane passes Lucie over to him, then guides Rozanov's hand to the bottle to keep it up. "You just hold it like that."
"Then what?"
Shane can't decide if the nervousness in Rozanov's voice is funny or endearing. "Just stay like that. I have to go wash the bottles."
Ilya darts his eyes from Lucie to Hollander as the man just leaves him.
Lucie spits out the nipple, and her face wrinkles with an upset noise.
Panic creeps up Ilya's spine and bleeds into his voice. "Hollander."
Shane looks up from the sink, but Lucie is sucking on the bottle just fine. "What?"
"She spit it out." Ilya says, although Lucie is eating happily again now.
"It's fine. She does that." Shane keeps peek up at them from across the island while he finishes putting all the dirty bottles in the cleaner. Then, he takes his daughter back, to which Rozanov sags in relief.
It's a little funny that a big hockey player is scared of such a small baby. Shane's lips dance in a smile as he tries not to laugh.
They both go sit in the living room, and Ilya crashes onto the leather cushions with a long sigh. "I don't know how you do it all by yourself. Is very scary when she's screaming."
That makes Shane chuckle. "I had my parents at first. It's only been her and I for a week."
"Still..." Ilya's gaze falls to the tiny little stress maker. She is cute, though. You know, when she's not screaming their ears off.
Shane lets his eyes trail over Rozanov while the Russian's focus is on Lucie. Blond curls are tussled and the black shirt he wears clings to each divot of his muscles as he leans his elbows on his knees. Shane blinks and rips his eyes away.
Lucie's little swallowing noises are all that breaks the silence, warm dim lights illuminating his apartment and casting a glow on her skin.
"Look," Shane whispers. "You can go. You don't have to stay here."
"I cannot leave you with that thing."
Shane slides his glare over to Rozanov. "That thing.. is my daughter."
"I see where she gets her cranky from." Ilya's lips tip up when Hollander throws daggers at him.
Shane inhales a calming breath. He'd like to smack the man with the glass bottle Lucie is almost finished with, but he restrains the urge. "You didn't sign up for... this."
All Ilya does is hum.
Lucie spits out the nipple with another fussy sound.
Ilya's face falls in defeat. "We feed her, why she crying now?"
"She needs to be burped." Shane sits her up like how Jackie showed him and pats her back. "Hand me that cloth."
Ilya follows Hollander's eyes and sees a blue rag on the coffee table, and he gives it to him.
Shane holds it so if anything comes up it should go onto the cloth, all while Lucie makes cranky noises.
Suddenly, spit-up spews out of Lucie's mouth, and Ilya shoots to his feet to avoid it getting on him as milk lands on the leather. Ilya barely manages to not gag.
But Lucie, she stops fussing and her mouth curves up in a small smile, and Shane rolls his lips together so he doesn't laugh.
"Is she sick?" The concern in Rozanov's voice makes Shane's heart warm.
"No," he chuckles, using the cloth to wipe off the couch. "It's spit-up. It's normal."
"Mmm," Ilya isn't sure. "I've never seen babies projectile vomit. Is not normal."
To be honest, Shane thought that too at first. He knew it was normal for a little to come up when burped, but he can't lie, a part of him feels like it's not right for her to spit-up so much. But Dr. Smith said Lucie was healthy, and he has no reason not to believe her.
"Her pediatrician said she was healthy." Shane says, trying not to let his anxiety—and Rozanov's anxiety—make something out of nothing. His mom told him it was normal to be very anxious about small things at first.
"Mm-I don't trust your pediatrician. I think you need a new one."
Shane gives him a deadpan head tilt. "It's the same pediatrician Hayden and Jackie use."
Ilya huffs. "Well, I don't trust Pike and I don't know Jackie."
"Well, I trust them." Shane focuses on cleaning Lucie's face and lips of any spit-up. It makes her smile. His heart melts at the sight of it.
Ilya finds his own lips tugging up, his hands resting on his hips. "Maybe she doesn't like the milk."
Shane glances at him, noticing how intensely he watches Lucie, and if he had the energy, he'd mock Rozanov for being so worried. "It was the formula Dr. Smith recommended."
"I still don't trust her."
"Well, you don't have to."
Ilya supposes that's true. He doesn't know why he feels so protective over this little girl. It's weird, but he refuses to give it a second thought.
"Okay." Shane sighs. "I'm going to change her, then she needs to go to sleep."
Tonight, they've strayed so far from the schedule Shane has tried to get her on, but it's fine. One night is fine to mess up here and there.
He lies her on the blanket placed on the floor, a makeshift changing spot with the wipes and clean diapers beside it. And he makes Rozanov hold her arms so she doesn't get anything on her fingers—happened once, and Shane was so grossed out he kept gagging.
Shane fights a laugh at Rozanov's attempts to keep her happy as Shane changes her.
Ilya's chest squeezes at the way Lucie's eyes watch him while she grips his fingers. Her tiny hand doesn't even close around his pointer finger. And strangely, it makes his heart swell.
In a new diaper, Lucie lies on her back as Shane closes up her onesie. She lights up and makes a little noise.
"Oh." Shane taps Rozanov's shoulder. "Hand me that?"
Ilya reaches for the clean cloth nearby—how many does the man have?—and gives it to Hollander, who wears a smile. Ilya notes how he shares a similar brightness with his daughter when he smiles.
"Watch. She loves this." Shane takes the cloth and spreads it out, letting the fabric brush over Lucie's face.
Lucie sucks in a breath, mouth opening, looking happier, and Shane's expression fakes a surprise shock as if he were playing peekaboo with Hayden's kids.
Ilya chuckles, leaning onto his hand on the floor, Hollander's shoulder grazing his.
Shane does it again, and Lucie does the same thing, and both of them laugh at her. His gaze floats over to Rozanov's and meets his stare. A blush blooms on Shane's cheeks. Their faces are so close all Shane would have to do is lean in a tiny bit to kiss him, an overwhelming craving to feel his lips on his owns almost has him closing the gap.
Ilya's eyes track Hollander's gaze, dropping to his lips. Would it be wrong to want to kiss the fuck out of him right now? Probably not appropriate with Lucie staring up at them.
Shane snaps his eyes back to his daughter and clears his throat. "Should probably—um, she needs to go to sleep."
"Mm-yes." Ilya swallows any urge to kiss the man.
***
"I don't think she likes this swaddle thing-y." Ilya tells Hollander as Lucie screams, not going to sleep like she should be after thirty minutes of effort.
"It's supposed to help." Shane does the bouncy swing thing Jackie told him their babies loved.
"Clearly not." Ilya holds out a hand to the cranky girl. "Here. Give me."
Shane would glare if he had the slightest bit of energy left, but instead, hands her off and sinks to the floor and sits crisscross. His face falls to his hands. He's a terrible father. Can't even get his daughter to stop crying, let alone go to sleep. He's failing miserably, and he wants to be absolutely embarrassed that Rozanov is witnessing his worst moment, but he's too desperate for the help.
"Little baby straight-jacket." Ilya coos in a baby voice, Lucie on her back on the changing bed as he removes the thing. "You did nothing wrong."
"The books said it was what's good for her." Shane mumbles into his hands.
With how many books he's read, he felt like he was studying for a test, and probably could take one if needed, but even with all the help from the books his mom and Jackie recommended and all the advice he'd gotten from his friends, he's nothing more than a failure. What does all the knowledge matter if he can't get it to work?
Lucie's upset cries settle once she's free and held in Ilya's arms, and he gives Hollander a smug look when the Canadian stares up at him in disbelief.
"See," Ilya whispers. "Happy now."
How embarrassing? Shane shakes his head. Rozanov is a better at soothing his daughter than he is. Just add that to the list.
Shane staggers to his feet, holding his hands out. "Here. I can take her. I have an idea."
Ilya passes her over and trails behind Hollander out of the room. He lolls his head up to the ceiling. "Where are you going?"
"My room."
"Why?" Voice tired, it sounds like a whine coming out of Ilya's mouth.
"Rocking chair." Full sentences are hard to complete at the moment, but the wooden rocking chair in the corner of his room speaks for itself. He sinks into it and pushes it a little to gently rock them.
Ilya crashes onto the end of the bed, body so spent.
Shane's room is softly lit by the yellow lamps, and he fights his eyes from falling closed. Nobody utters a word for—Shane doesn't even care how long—all he cares about is that his little girl finally shuts her eyes.
Once he's confident Lucie is in a deep slumber, he hums and tries to wake up his numb body. "Okay... I'ma go put... her back in her crib."
Ilya blinks the awareness back into his eyes. "Why? She's happy. Let her be. Is that not what they say? Let sleeping baby lie."
"I think that's about dogs." Shane mutters.
Could be right. Ilya's forehead wrinkles. "I don't know. But still works."
"She needs to sleep on her back." Shane forces his legs to stand and walk to the nursery. He's far too sleep deprived to keep holding her, scared he'd fall asleep too. "Safe sleeping."
When all Shane gets in response is quietness, he glances back. "Rozanov?"
"Here." Ilya follows him into the dark nursery, one of his hands finding Hollander's back.
Shane inhales a stable breath before cautiously lying Lucie down in the crib, holding his breath, praying she stays asleep. His hands slowly raise from underneath her, voice barely a whisper. "Don't move. Don't breathe too loud."
Ilya stands stagnant, hand on Hollander's back, breath shallow.
"Okay." Shane takes one step back, Rozanov following his lead. "Slowly... back... away."
At the door, Ilya pulls it closed after Hollander, but the damn thing breaks the silence with a loud squeak.
"Shhhh." Shane's whole body tenses.
Ilya pauses, the door half open, and he whispers, "It's your loud door."
"Just..." Shane puts his hand on top of Rozanov's, as if with the both of them it will go quietly. "Slowly."
Both of them cringe at each creak the door makes until it's closed.
Then, Shane remembers the monitor is inside on the changing table. "Noooo."
"What?" Ilya pouts.
"I need the monitor." He may or may not let out a small whimper. "It's just inside."
Ilya rolls his eyes. "If she wakes up, is all your fault."
Shane throws a glare at him. "I got it."
Inhaling, Ilya twists the handle and pushes it open ever so slowly, cursing the door in his head for being so fucking loud.
Shane steps in and grabs the monitor and creeps back out.
"Is all?" Ilya is not about to shut this door only to have to open it again.
"Yes," Shane whispers and bites his lip until the door is once again closed. He checks the little screen on the monitor and sees Lucie still sound asleep. "We're good."
Ilya exhales and goes to the wall and sinks to the floor, knees falling open. "Babies are scary. Why do people have them?"
Shane's lips lazily tug up on one side. "It's not that bad."
Ilya stares up at the man with disbelief. "Not bad? She screamed for thirty minutes straight."
Shane arches a brow. He goes to the opposite wall and rests his back against it. "Yeah, but... like this morning... before I left for the rink... she was so happy and smiley."
Even in the dark hallway only lit by the light coming from Hollander's room a few doors down, Ilya can still see a smile spread across Hollander's face. It does something weird to Ilya's heart... like a fluttery thing.
"Everything I did made her smile." Shane closes his eyes and his head leans on the wall behind. "It was like... the best feeling in the whole world."
Ilya's never really thought much about having kids of his own. He figured if he met the right person, then he'd like one. But listening to Hollander is making him see a future where he definitely wants kids, eventually. If he meets the right person.
Shane reaches for Rozanov's hand. "Come on."
Ilya snaps out of his head and lets Hollander pull him up and drag him back to his room. They fall onto their backs hitting the mattress.
Shane heavily sighs, one Rozanov mirrors. Then the Russian starts chuckling, and Shane sends him a glare. The last thing Shane is in the mood for is being made fun of. "What?"
Ilya gazes up at the ceiling. "Just not why I thought we'd be breathless in your bed."
A laugh bubbles out of Shane. His hands rub over his face and he groans, eyes sticking closed. His room falls quiet again, neither of them having much energy to speak.
"You don't... have... to stay." Shane yawns. "If you... need to get... hotel."
Ilya hums, his body feeling fuzzy with sleep. He probably should go, though. "In a minute."
An hour later, both of them jolt awake to the sound of screams through the monitor in Shane's hand. Shane shoots up while Rozanov scrambles to his feet.
"What..." Ilya's brain is a little foggy, but then the night comes rushing back. His body snaps into motion. Well, sort of. His socked feet slip when he tries to catch up to Hollander and he hits the floor with a loud thud.
Shane's mouth falls open, turning back, torn between going to his crying daughter and checking on Rozanov.
"Go." Ilya waves at him, then curses in Russian.
Shane scrambles into the nursery and quickly scoops up Lucie, who calms a tiny bit. "Shhh. It's okay. It's okay."
Ilya makes it to the doorway, bracing his hands on the frame.
Shane rolls his lips together, a laugh shaking his chest.
"Don't." Ilya points at him. "Laugh."
It only makes Shane laugh. The image of him falling replays in his head and makes him laugh harder.
Ilya lets out a low grumble in response. "Is your fault."
"My fault?" Shane says, Lucie quieting down. "How is you being clumsy my fault?"
Ilya grunts. "Is your fault."
"Okay," Shane agrees only out of pity for Rozanov's ego.
Walking up to them, Ilya peeks at Lucie on Hollander's chest. "What do you need now?"
"Probably another bottle."
"So," Ilya's gaze meets Hollander's. "We what... do it all again? Start over? Again?"
"Yep." Shane pats his shoulder as he passes and heads down to the kitchen.
Although, this time goes a little more smoothly. Lucie isn't crying while waiting for the bottle, definitely not happy, but not screaming. So, progress. And Rozanov makes sure to scoot away when Shane burps her, something Shane makes fun of him for.
"Scared of a little milk?"
Ilya flips him off from the other side of the couch. A safe distance away. "Fuck off."
Shane gives him a break, though, because he's helped so much and Shane can tell he's just as tired as he is. The hour of sleep only made a dint on the grogginess.
Lucie after being burped isn't so happy as last time, not quite crying, but grumpy and letting them know about it.
Shane made sure to change her diaper, still not what soothes her attitude.
They go back up to Shane's room to try to rock her to sleep, which kind of helps. She's content, just not going to sleep. So, Shane tries a trick Hayden said his baby loved.
"You look ridiculous." Ilya notes, watching Hollander do this squat thing-y move but he's swaying too. It's very funny.
"Fuck off." Shane doesn't care if he looks ridiculous if it works, but after a couple of minutes of her still staring wide awake, he gives up. He plops onto the end of the bed. "I don't know what to do. I guess we could just go put her in the crib and see what happens."
Ilya looks horrified at the idea. "Sounds like terrible idea."
"It's what the books said to do." Shane lifts a shoulder, cradling his daughter in his arms.
Ilya's mouth falls open. "Ah, no."
"What?"
"No. We are not doing that. She will cry."
"Well, what's your idea?" Shane rolls his eyes.
Ilya wonders for a moment. The last thing he knows about is what's good for a baby. His gaze lands on the wooden rocking chair. She was happy when they held her and rocked her. "We take turns staying up with her. Rock her."
Shane peers at him wearily. "I... the books said—"
"Fuck the books." Ilya throws up a hand. "The books aren't helping."
Shane remembers his dad saying how he never listened to the books, anyway. He also said to just do what feels right and as long as she was happy and safe, that's all the matters. Looking down at his baby girl, all he wants is for her to be happy.
"Okay," he agrees.
"Okie." Ilya nods.
"How do we decide who is staying up?"
Ilya thinks on that for a second, then says, "Rock, paper, scissors."
Shane tilts his head at the man. "Seriously? Little childish, don't you think?"
"Oh, you have better idea?"
Shane grunts and shifts Lucie in his arms so he can hold out a fist.
A smirk plays on Ilya's lips as their fist move up and down in synchrony, Ilya counting them down to scissors.
Shane keeps his hand in a fist, Ilya's holding out scissors, and victory spreads in Shane's chest.
Ilya flicks a hand in the air. "Eh. Give me baby."
Shane can't wipe the smile off his face as he hands a content Lucie over to Rozanov.
Ilya sits in the rocking chair and gets Lucie cozy in the crook of his elbow.
Shane gets up to turn off all the lamps except for one so it's not pitch black, then crawls onto his bed. It's a little weird to be going to sleep with Rozanov staying up with Lucie, but it's honestly probably a good thing he's not the one staying up. He's way too heavy-eyed.
His eyes fall droopy as he lies on his side, gazing at Rozanov and his daughter. A soft glow casts shadows across them, and Rozanov is too entranced by Lucie to notice him staring. So, he takes the opportunity to gawk freely.
Is it weird to find it so hot? All the man is doing is holding a baby, but fuck, Shane would totally jump his bones if he wasn't already half asleep.
He gets Jackie and why they have so many kids.
With thoughts Shane shouldn't be thinking about, he lets sleep suck him under.
Ilya hums quietly the words to a song he remembers his mom used to sing to him. He would kill to hear her sing it to him again. The memory is so clear, his head on her lap while she combed through his unruly curls, a hum of the Russian lullaby comforting him. He may not remember her voice but he remembers the comfort and peace it brought him.
Ilya's chin trembles, and he stops humming for a moment. Why the fuck is he getting emotional?
Lucie blinks slowly up at him, and he frowns, brushing his thumb over her cheek.
He sniffles and peeks up to make sure Hollander is out—he is—and then gazes at Lucie. The Russian words to the lullaby softly hum out of his lips.
Something in his chest unravels. His mother's presence looms beside him as if she were actually here. He feels her in the same way he felt her combing through his hair with his head on her lap.
His Russian is hardly understandable between whispering the words and the knot of emotion in his throat, but the little girl in his arms looks so peaceful, so he keeps trying to sing for her.
He keeps running his finger over her dark hair, it's so soft and fluffy, and her eyes flutter closed, but she fights to keep them open. Dragging his finger over her eyebrow, he notices how she can't stop her eyes from closing this time.
Victory buzzes throughout his body and he nearly wakes Hollander to show off his new trick.
But he doesn't.
Hollander would probably be just as cranky as his daughter if he was woken up.
So, Ilya keeps brushing back her little hairs and enjoys the silence.
After a minute or two, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and opens his search tab.
Why baby's cry so much and not like sleeping?
He hits search and a lot of answers pop up, and he starts reading through them.
***
Bright morning light flows into the kitchen as Shane moves through his morning routine.
He woke up when Lucie started getting cranky again, but at least Rozanov said she slept for a good while, then Shane took his shift. Ran through what Lucie needed, bottle, clean diaper, and stayed up for a little while before she fell back asleep and he was able to put her in the crib.
He went back to sleep beside Rozanov until he woke up a little before six. At that point, he just decided to get up for the day.
Lucie is in a suspiciously good mood.
Shane waits for the coffee machine to finish making the pot, and he grins at Lucie, who lies on his forearms, her head cradled in his hands. He swoops her down a little, earning a smile and little coos. An overwhelming amount of joy flows through his body and it feels like the fucking sun. It's a high he never wants to give up.
Ilya wonders down the stairs, groggy and scratching his head. It feels like he spent the night out at a club... minus the hangover. He's not complaining about that part.
Hollander's giggles and Lucie's squeaks filter from the kitchen and he finds himself smiling for some goddamn reason he's not awake enough to fight. Hollander comes into view and he's grinning at his daughter and giggling each time Lucie smiles or coos.
Fuck. Ilya can at least admit to himself the image is cute.
Shane hears footsteps and stands up more straight. He licks his lips, gaze rolling over Ilya and all his messy hair and sleepy face. "Hey."
Ilya lazily smirks and peers over Hollander's shoulder. "Someone is in a good mood."
"She loves mornings from what I've learned."
"Mmm. Another thing from her dad?" Ilya lifts his eyes to Hollander's and before he knows it, Ilya's brushing the man's cheek over his freckles.
Shane freezes, lips parted, and Rozanov stands stagnant in shock too. Shane darts his eyes between the other man's.
Ilya clears his throat and pulls away from whatever the fuck that was. "What time is it?"
"Ahh," Shane stammers, brain trying to catch up. "Six-ish."
"Six?" Ilya echoes. Damnit.
"Yeah." Shane furrows his brows. "What time is your flight?"
"Like seven. Maybe after seven." Ilya isn't quite sure. Something was definitely at seven, though. "I need to go."
"Oh, yeah." Shane shakes the disappointment pinging in his gut.
Ilya checks his pockets to make sure he has his phone, then snatches his wallet from the living room before going to his shoes by the door.
Shane repositions Lucie into the crook of his arm, following Rozanov and watching him tie his shoes. Shane worries on his bottom lip and not knowing what to do. Just say bye? Just forget last night? Just move on like it didn't happen?
Maybe he should apologize for wasting Rozanov's time and making him feel like he had to help.
But all his anxious thoughts fade the second Rozanov stands at full hight and cups the back of his head, pecking him on the lips. But it ends before it really even starts and Shane chases his lips for half a second.
"Bye." Ilya grabs the handle.
Shane darts his tongue over his lips and tastes Rozanov. His voice comes out weak. "Bye."
Ilya is about to shut the door behind himself, then pauses. This is the last time he'll see Hollander for a while. That really the kiss he wants to leave with? No. Ilya pushes back into the apartment and crashes his mouth into Hollander's, making the man gasp.
With Lucie in one arm, Shane reaches up and touches Rozanov's face with his free hand. He hums when Rozanov gives him more than just a peck on the lips.
Ilya breaks apart only to tilt his head to the other side and presses a softer kiss this time. "Okie, I really am late."
"Go." Shane locks their lips one more time before Rozanov leaves.
Once the door shuts, Shane stands there unmoving for a moment. A smile creeps onto his face and his stomach does a funny somersault thing.
Lucie coos, and he breaks out in a full grin as he looks at her.
"What a crazy night, huh?"
***
Jane: I just wanted to say thank you for the other night.
You really didn't have to help, but I appreciated it.
Lily: You don't have to act so shocked
I am a very generous person
And Lucie loves me
Probably more than you
Jane: 🙄
Why did I try to be nice?
Lily: Because you are very boring and polite
***
Lily: *sends link to pediatrician*
Jane: Why are you sending me a new pediatrician?
Lily: For you to switch to
Jane: I'm not switching pediatricians
Lily: This one had lots of reviews saying he helped with their colicky baby
Jane: What makes you think Lucie is colicky?
Lily: From research
Jane: Dr. Smith said nothing about colic.
Lily: Is why you should try this pediatrician
Dr. Diaz
***
Jane: Fuck you
Lily: I think fuck ME is what you mean
Jane: No, fuck YOU for being right
Lily: Am right a lot
Be more specific
Jane: I took Lucie to Dr. Diaz and she is colicky
Lily: HA!
Tell Pike and his stupid pediatrician I was right and am better than him
Jane: Sadly there isn't much we can do apparently. She will grow out of it.
Lily: I will not accept this
Finding new pediatrician
Jane: No, I actually really like Dr. Diaz. He's great. We did switch her formula which has helped and he gave me some drops to give her.
Lily: Fine
Jane: I also hired a live-in nanny. Ella.
She technically lives in the apartment I own next door, but she's helped so much.
Especially during the playoffs when I'm gone.
Lily: Just don't sleep with her and get her pregnant too
Jane: Not funny
Lily: Too soon?
***
Jane: *picture of bassinet beside an open box with note that says "For Солнышко."*
What is this?
Lily: Oh, I bought it for Lucie
People say their baby sleeps better in a bassinet next to the bed
Jane: You bought me a bassinet?
Lily: No
I bought Lucie a bassinet
Jane: Thank you
***
Lily: How is Lucie?
Jane: I think we are past the colicky stage
Lily: Good
Bassinet working?
Jane: Yes 🙄
***
Jane: *video of Shane sitting on the floor with Lucie lying on her back and he tickles her side and she giggles*
She's laughing
Lily: At least you make someone laugh
Jane: Fuck off
She's never laughed before
Lily: Is very cute
Jane: *another video of Shane tickling Lucie but this time saying "We don't like Rozanov, do we?" and Lucie giggles*
Lily: Hey!
This is wrong
Is discrimination against me!
Jane: Nope, not discrimination
Lily: One day I will be her favorite
Jane: Not happening
Lily: Yes
She loves me
Am everybody's favorite
Jane: Not sure about everybody's
Lily: Is unfair you get to infect her with your boringness and hatred for me
Jane: *picture of Lucie on her back and Shane's hand holding all her fingers down except for one so it looks like Lucie is flipping off the camera*
Lily: Now that's just mean