Chapter Text
Adam Birkholtz knew Justin Oluransi better than anyone else in the entire world, probably better than he knew himself. So when he answered his phone that day he didn't even need to say hello to know something was really wrong.
“Rans? Are you alright?” Holster asked. He didn’t know when he started being worried about Ransom whenever he wasn’t by Holster’s side, but he realized now that the low level worry was always there and it didn't take much to make it flare up. Not that this was something small. Ransom was breathing hard and fast on the other end of the line. He’s panicking about something.
“What’s wrong, bro? Where are you at?” Holster asked when Ransom didn’t say anything immediately. He needed to find his best-friend first, then he needed to pound the crap out of whoever had upset the delicate coral reef that was Ransom’s well being.
“I’m at the Haus.” Ransom managed at last, “I… I fucked up, Holtz. I fucked up.” He sounded like the whole world was ending, Holster was moving from where he had been sitting in the library before he even realized it.
“It’s gonna be okay, dude, I promise. Whatever it is we’ll figure it out together and you’re gonna be okay.” He told Ransom as he hurried across campus, trying not to break into a run.
“I don’t think we can fix this one.” Ransom said, and his voice was broken. It scared Holster more than he had thought possible.
“Okay, I’ll be right there. Just hang on.” He said said, hanging up so he could run the rest of the way back to the Haus. No one else seemed to be home but Holster wasn’t sure he would have noticed if they were, he just ran straight up the stairs to their room.
Ransom was sitting on the lower bunk, rocking back and forth. Except it wasn’t his normal anxious fetal position type of rocking. He was holding something. Holster stopped dead the second he realized what it was. Ransom looked up at him with desperate panicked eyes, and Holster just stared back at his friend. His friend who was holding a baby in his arms. The infant looked tiny in Ransom’s arms, absurdly small compared to the hockey player, but where Ransom was clearly losing it the little girl was just calmly staring out at the world. Holster assumed she was a girl since she was wrapped in a pink blanket, though he suspected that Shitty would have something to say on that subject. She had soft very light brown skin, a short layer of fuzzy curls over her head, and what were undoubtedly Ransom’s wide brown eyes.
“Ransom,” Holster said, speaking in a slow calm voice, “Are you alright?” He asked. He sat down next to Ransom on the bed, reaching a hand out to touch Ransom’s shoulder gently. Ransom shook his head.
“I fucked up.” He said again. Holster wrapped his arm around Ransom’s shoulders.
“She’s yours right?” He asked in the same voice he used when Ransom was curled into a ball somewhere during exam week. Ransom nodded.
“How?” Holster asked. He knew he probably shouldn’t push, but he needed to figure out what the hell was going on. He knows Ransom hasn't had a girlfriend in nearly a year, even longer than it’s been for Holster. That's not to say that they hadn't both had a bunch of various flings and hookups, they had, but Ransom hadn't said a word about any of them resulting in a pregnancy. He could even remember seeing a pregnant girl around campus, familiar or not. The fact of the matter was, if Ransom had known before today that he had a daughter, he would have told Holster. He had not.
"You remember that girl Rachel, who I was talking to last year?" Ransom asked. Holster nodded, she had seemed pretty cool.
"Yeah she dropped out just when I thought you two might be something good." He remembered. Ransom grimaced.
"Yeah well she never told me why exactly, said she didn't have the money for it anymore, which didn't make a ton of sense but whatever. She didn't tell me that she dropped out because her parents made her when they found out she was pregnant. She never even told me she was pregnant!" He was starting to sound hysterical again.
"Were you safe, or...?" Holster asked, unable to stop the question. It just wasn't like Ransom to have been reckless, that was Holster who had had scares before when he had forgotten safety due to drunkenness. Ransom nodded.
"Ninety-nine percent effective." He said derisively. Holster grimaced in sympathy. Ransom was leaning into his side a bit now, still cradling the baby girl.
"So she just didn't tell you for nine months?" Holster asked, "Damn that's cold. Why now?"
"That's where it gets worse." Ransom said. Holster raised his eyebrows but just waited.
"Her parents pulled her out for a couple reasons. They are super duper Catholic which meant she absolutely had to keep it, they made her."
"That's fucked." Holster commented, he can practically hear Shitty's rant about how a woman's body was her own damn business and nobody could take her rights from her.
"Yeah. It's worse. She had a medical condition, a weak heart, that made pregnancy super dangerous for her. Like deadly, hence no school." Ransom said. Holster gripped him tighter knowing where this was going and wishing it would go somewhere else.
"She died?" He asked, voice breaking a little. He hadn't know her super well but still, that was awful. Ransom nodded. "Jesus, her parents made her have a baby she didn't want, when they knew it could kill her?!"
"Yup." Ransom agreed, "It gets worse. They decided they just couldn't bring themselves to raise the baby that had killed their daughter, so they came to find me." Ransom said. Holster was more furious than he had ever been.
"What the fuck?! Like it's the poor baby's fault and not theirs for making her have the kid?! What the hell is wrong with these people?!" He demanded. Ransom shook his head, shrugging.
"They hate me, by the way, they think it's entirely my fault." He added. "I get the feeling they might have kept her if she wasn't black... but... They said they were going to send her to an orphanage if I didn't take custody... I couldn't... I just... She's my daughter." Ransom said, and he was shaking now, and crying. Holster shifted and offered up his arms.
“Do you want me to hold her for a little bit?” He asked. Ransom looked down at the baby girl in his arms, then back at Holster.
“Thanks” He answered with a sniffle, lifting her into Holster’s arms. “This is Holster, Jemma.” He murmured to her. As soon as she was in his arms Holster suddenly felt like maybe taking her from Ransom was a bad plan. He had just been concerned with making sure Ransom was alright and that he didn’t accidentally squeeze her too tight or drop her or something equally bad. Now he realized how tiny she was, and how little experience he had with children. He cradled her as carefully as he could. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that this was Ransom’s daughter. Ransom had a daughter, not just an abstract baby that had indirectly caused the death of a girl they knew, but a tiny person who was right here. This tiny human being was half Ransom, a part of him, and Ransom had just handed her to Holster without a second’s thought.
"She's beautiful." Holster murmured, because it was true. Ransom nodded, still crying a little bit. "And her name's Jemma?" Holster asked.
"Yeah, Rachel named her Jemma Rose Oluransi." Ransom answered, "Don't know why she used my last name." He added.
"Probably because it's cool." Holster told him, he looked down at the baby girl in his arms, "Hello, Jemma. How are you?" He cooed, unable to stop himself. Ransom smiled a little, and something in Holster's chest loosened the tiniest bit.
"What am I going to do?" Ransom asked at last. Holster grimaced.
"I'm not sure what we're gonna do. We should talk to Shitty about legal stuff, like how to deal with the official part and all that. Then we are gonna have to talk to Jack, and probably coach, about keeping her here, we've gotta figure out how that's gonna work... if you want of course. I mean obviously you don't have to try to raise your daughter in a hockey frat house. Not that you even have to raise her, you can always make sure she gets adopted by good people, or talk to your parents. I don't know if they'd take care of her while you're here, or if you'd want to leave here, go home and take her with you..." he had started rambling, filled with the sudden terror that came with realizing this might mean Ransom leaving, leaving the Haus, or leaving Samwell all together. The thought tightened Holster's chest and he couldn't breathe normally.
"I'm going to have to talk the other guys. If they aren't cool with us having a baby up here I'll have to move out. Coach Hall too, to see if we can figure out how to work around practice, and I don't even want to think about classes and having time for homework... but um... I don't think I could give her away." Ransom said. Holster started to breathe again.
"Okay. Okay. We're going to make this work. But first we've got to make sure we have the stuff to take care of her. Did her grandparents leave anything?" Holster asked. He looked up at Ransom, he hadn't even realized he was staring at Jemma. Ransom was staring at him with astonished wonder, like he couldn't quite believe he was real. Holster's stomach flipped at the sight of his, because damn if it wasn't pretty amazing to be looked at like that.
"Dude, what is that look for?" Holster asked.
"Just... I show up with a baby and tell you I've gotta take care of her and the first thing you do is start talking about what we are going to do." Ransom said, Holster gave him a look like "so?" Ransom chuckled. "Dude, do you know how many people would run away screaming? But you're just like 'sign me up, I'm going to help you raise your child'"
"Yeah, guess so." Holster answered, because the alternative hadn't even occurred to him, "I mean, she's your daughter Rans. You're my best bro in the entire world, not to mention my roommate, and she's your daughter. Of course I'm going to help you raise her." Ransom smiled at him like Holster had just pulled him out of a burning building. Holster decided not to analyze the swooping feeling in his chest at that moment.
"Do you want to take her back?" He asked instead, "She's so tiny I feel like I'm going to crush her by mistake."
"I know." Ransom agreed as he took his daughter back, she was yawning and her eyes were drooping now. "Oh, Rachel's parents left us a car seat, diaper bag, some clothes, some bottles and formula, a changing mat, and one of those carrier things that you can strap to your chest. I left it all downstairs." He added, remembering. Holster nodded. He stood up.
"I'll go get her stuff, be back in a sec." He said. He did not run. He did not run from the room where his distraught best friend was holding his beautiful child, that would be... difficult to explain. He wasn't sure why it was so hard for him to look at them right now, he just knew he needed a few seconds to pull himself together before going back into that room. He found a pile of bags and things in the corner of the living room and gathered them up. He slung a duffle bag over his shoulder, and tossed everything else into the car seat and carried it back up to their attic room.
"She's going to need somewhere to sleep." Ransom said, looking around the room. Holster nodded. He pulled the sock drawer out of the top of his dresser and dumped the socks on the ground. He pulled a couple blankets out of their closet and padded it, making sure to duct tape the edges so that the blankets would fall or get to be too much of a mess that might smother Jemma.
"It's not perfect but she'll be okay in there for now." He said, setting it next to Ransom, who nodded. He set Jemma in her new bed, she was already asleep. He tucked the blanket she had been in at her feet, Holster saw that she was wearing a soft lilac onesie.
"Thanks." Ransom murmured.
"No problem, bro." Holster said brightly, "Toss all my socks in your drawer, we share anyway." He added. He was sorting through all of the baby stuff they had been left with, trying to figure out what they'd need.
"We're gonna have to go shopping." He muttered, "Always gonna need more diapers, we need more formula, and probably a few more things for her to wear, she's gonna grow out of these soon enough, I don't think we have the time right now to get a proper crib so that'll just have to do for now. We need baby wipes, and soap, and powder, and all that stuff... at least my sister always said she did."
"Right, I forgot you had a baby nephew. I was wondering how you knew all this baby stuff, dude." Ransom said.
"I'm no expert. We'll figure this out though. No problem. It's gonna be fine." He said. Ransom nodded.
"Thanks." He said again, still obviously overwhelmed. Holster nodded. They were both looking down at Jemma.
"How old is she?" Holster asked.
"Three months." Ransom answered softly, "They said they tried, really tried for those three months, to love her.... but they couldn't."
"How could anyone not love her?" Holster asked. He had known Jemma existed for less than an hour and he already loved her. She had taken over a large part of Holster’s heart, just by existing. He could see in Ransom’s eyes that it was even worse for him, that little girl had become the new center of his universe the second he knew she existed. Something about that made Holster jealous… not that Ransom’s daughter was the new most important person in his world, that just made sense, but that she was someone else’s daughter too. Rachel. Holster found himself reevaluating the girl he had met a couple times last year. He had thought she seemed pretty cool but now he couldn’t help disliking her a bit. After all she had kept Ransom’s daughter a secret from him, he had a right to know. He tried not to hate too much, she was dead after all, but the anger was there.
“Yeah, it’s fucked...” Ransom murmured, “I don’t even know. Anyway, yeah, her birthday was the 18th of August.” He added. Holster nodded, then frowned.
“No,” he muttered, “That means she’s three months old today. Exactly three months old, like they…” He started indignantly and then couldn’t bring himself to continue.
“Set a time limit for how long they were going to try before handing her off?” Ransom finished for him with a nod.
“Fucked up.” Holster muttered and Ransom nodded.
“Yup.” He agreed. Holster glanced down at Jemma.
“Should I not swear around her?” He asked, “I know a lot of parents aren’t cool with that.” He offered. Ransom looked almost confused.
“I don’t know? What do you think?” He asked.
“I think it’s a bit silly since she doesn’t understand yet, maybe just tone it down a bit so that her first word isn’t fuck. She’s your daughter though, it’s your call.” Holster answered.
“Just tone it down a bit sounds good.” Ransom agreed. Holster nodded.
“Sounds good. When did she last eat?” He asked. Ransom shrugged.
“I called you about half an hour after they left, as soon as I got it together enough to dial. I don’t know when they last fed her.” He answered, “God, am I awful? I should know shouldn’t I? I’m going to be an awful father, Holster, I can’t do this.”
"Don't be ridiculous. Rans, you are the smartest, strongest, most reliable person I know, you're going to make a fantastic dad." Holster assured him with complete and sincere confidence. He believed it.