Chapter Text
Shane had immediately noticed that something was off with the toddler. Alina had always been on the wilder side. She seemed to go through quite a few more phases than her older brother had at this age. Sometimes or most times it became evident that she was part Rosanov Spawn just by the look in her eyes, a chaotic energy that Shane wouldn’t ever admit was likely his doing as well. This morning in particular there was something very Ilya in Alina’s ocean eyes. A spark combined with a little bleariness that sent alarm bells off in Shane’s mind. Shane was already bracing as he spoke to their young daughter.
“Good Morning, angel,” Shane’s voice was soft, but clearly not soft enough for the sleep-rattled child. She immediately started to whine, putting her hands against her ears with a signature Rosanov pout. She had unfortunately learned from the best.
Shane lowered his voice to a whisper, trying to pinpoint the toddler’s concern. “Do your ears hurt?” he questioned, which earned a frustrated squirm from Alina.
“Shhhh,” Alina squeaked out as she burrowed deeper into her mattress. The sheets were white with little pink and red hearts all over them. Her body was contorted in her bed, half hanging out from the sheets, half sunken deep into the bed. Her pajama of choice were the one with tiny pucks all over them, surely a gift from an Ottawa player or maybe Svetlana. There was no saying honestly, beyond the fact that Shane needed her to get it moving.
“C’mon bug, it’s time to get up, Papa is making breakfast,” Shane kept his voice low, which didn’t seem to do the trick as his daughter continued to
wiggle around trying to disappear from his view.
“Quiet, Dada, no talk to me,” Alina said, popping into view, a tornado of curls on her head, a tiny finger held against her lips. Her pink sparkly polish, the one that matched Ilya’s fingernails, was surprisingly still intact, sparkling in the soft lamplight.
Shane had quite honestly already had a hell of a time getting Nikolai up and downstairs with Ilya which meant that there was a thrumming headache that was already reaching his temples as he tried to navigate the new quirk. So, against his typical logic, he just went along with it. Silence it was. He reached out to help Alina out of bed instead.
“No no no, Dada!” Alina squealed, swerving his help and flinging herself out of bed. She was quick on her feet, immediately heading toward the bedroom door. Her dark curls were everywhere, her pajamas wrinkly and askew in a way that only a toddler could have managed. Shane rubbed his temples just briefly before he grabbed Alina’s favorite blanket, hopeful that it might settle her somewhat. The blanket had been something handmade, a gift from her grandparents, softly scented with both Ilya and Shane’s scents. He threw that over his shoulder, and walked after her. A few deep breaths were necessary, needing to recenter before the chaos of the morning impacted him too gravely.
Shane walked out to where the toddler was standing near the top of the stairs, stepping slow and intentional toward her to help. That was mistake number 27 of the day though, made abundantly clear by the icy look that he received. She gripped onto the stair-railing and started the slow descent herself. “No help, Dada, I do,” she explained, briefly lifting her finger to her mouth to insinuate that Shane should keep it quiet and let her concentrate on her absurd mission. Shane wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but she seemed so so sure of herself and this plan that Shane just let her do it, hovering just enough out of the perimeter so that Lina didn’t give him another one of those looks.
He reached the bottom stair before Alina, but was unable to warn the rest of the house before Ilya spotted the determined toddler doing a final jump to the bottom of the stairs. Ilya was unintentionally turning the spotlight back onto the tyke who seemed to be on independent strike requiring absolute silence and no help whatsoever.
“Good Morning, malyshka,” Ilya said as he continued to plate up some breakfast food for Niko. He turned slightly to acknowledge the whirlwind that was heading his way. Shane had begrudgingly given up on making meals most mornings after the sheer look of horror that appeared on Niko when he was presented with a spinach omelet which had ended up more green than yellow, the one Ilya had barely choked down. Ilya was much better at this whole edible children’s food thing, though Shane of course had a say in things by buying the groceries or influencing Ilya enough to limit the number of sugary cereals that lined the cabinets.
“No no!” Alina shrieked, sitting down on the floor with her hands over her ears.
Shane was quick to intercept, stepping into the kitchen to announce that Ms. Hollander-Rosanov should not be spoken to directly, touched, frankly looked at, certainly not helped in anyway. Niko was too busy eating breakfast to notice, busy speaking a mile a minute to Ilya about all the things planned for school today. Ilya was nodding along, finishing up with plating breakfast as he perfectly tuned into both children’s needs.
“Apologies, little one,” Ilya said, miming zipping his lips as he turned his focus toward Niko more full on. Shane watched Alina struggle to contain a smile. She lifted a hand to her face to hide it before she managed to put on her serious face, pulling herself back up and stepping over to the counter to get his food. Ilya had already put together the food, so it was just the task of making sure she made it into the chair to eat her food without too much assistance. Shane watched moderately terrified as the plate wobbled before it settled against the wooden table. Alina looked lost though, typically used to sitting next to at least one of her parents. Her head was on a swivel before she managed to capture Shane’s attention, giving him the Rosanov stare that Shane was unsure how to interpret considering the current household regulations. She made it crystal clear soon enough, looking at the seat beside her and back at Shane a comical number of times before he moved. Shane nodded his head, soon finding himself sat beside her in the seat she had eyed. She calmed down instantly and began to eat, Shane was more grateful as Ilya slid a healthy smoothie across the table with a wink. He quick pulled it in close, eyes scanning between Alina, to Niko, to Ilya, who gave him a questioning look. Shane shrugged before he pulled the drink closer and started to suck down the green juice.
Ilya was sitting across from Alina and Shane, next to Niko who had grown entirely invested in his meal. Shane caught eyes with him once again, Ilya immediately sensing the overwhelm in Shane’s tight shoulders. “I’ve got it, don’t worry,” Ilya mouthed, which was something Shane needed to see far more than he had realized. Shane absolutely loved his children, but some days his brain got in the way and some days especially those with the complex randomized regulations set out by a toddler it got a little more difficult to navigate without assistance. Ilya like him was likely thinking that this wouldn’t last, that he could do something to pull Alina from this and back into the happy, chatty girl that she typically was on every occasion. Worse comes to worse, she was expressive enough without words to get her point across pretty well. So maybe it wouldn’t be all to terrible. Ilya would do school drop off with Niko, then Shane would hand over Alina so he could head in for a quick meeting and time in the gym, brief swap once again for media purposes, and then Shane would be home with Alina for just a short while when Ilya picked Niko up from school at the end of the day. They usually swapped around depending on the day, so today was all Ilya in the drop off lines. All in all, hopefully the events of the day and the time between parents should hopefully coax the spitfire to return to business as normal on this Monday morning.
Shane could absolutely not have been more incorrect. Alina had managed to maintain her silence throughout the whole thing, no matter snack bribes, no matter time petting the puppy at the rink, no matter Anya chasing her around the house in laps, absolutely nothing got the girl to crack. It was like this was a game that Shane and Ilya hadn’t known they signed up for. Like there was a million dollar check waiting for Alina at the end of the day or an endless supply of cookies waiting on the other side of the door if she made it. She didn’t fuss as much throughout the day as soon as she noticed that people were respecting her wish, seeming to just need the day to just be.
However, by bedtime things had started to shift. Alina had finally curled up beside Ilya, now dressed in her pajamas with little loons on them, absolutely a Shane purchase, curls now slightly more calm after a mostly successful attempt by Alina herself earlier to tame them. The tiny bows she had put in earlier were abandoned somewhere in the house now. Her eyelids were drooping as she listened to the story that she had allowed Ilya to read to her, too tired to try and get him to guess exactly what she wanted since it was straight from Ilya’s brain. Before her eyes drooped too far she reached out to Shane, little hand flexing to grab at him and urge him closer to the bed. Shane followed her demand, plopping himself with a bit of that exhaustion seeping in. She let out a sleepy sigh, curling in further to Ilya, as Ilya’s hand rubbed against her back. Shane pressed a kiss against the tangled curls atop her head, brushing the hair off of her shoulder as Ilya’s voice lulled her closer to sleep.
“Missed you today, Dada, Papa,” Alina whispered, her little hand curling tightly into Ilya’s shirt.
“We missed you too, little birdie,” Ilya responded, squeezing her gently against him as she continued to drift further and further into dreamland.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The night ended with Shane and Ilya curled up together in their own bed, the tiredness evident in the slow movements as they prepared for bed. Shane rested his head in the crook of Ilya’s neck, breathing in the spicy aroma of his scent. Though Shane wanted to stay up, actually speak for once, he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. Ilya’s hand reached down and lifted his chin, thumb skimming across his cheek.
“Are you still with me, Hollander?” Ilya mumbled, pulling him up to press a brief, but sweet kiss to Shane’s lips.
Shane mumbled something mildly unintelligible under his breath.
“Huh?” Ilya teased, pulling away to allow Shane to speak more clearly.
“Hollander-Rosanov,” Shane spoke, as though this was something he had to constantly keep reminding everyone of everyday.
“Of course, my apologies,” Ilya pressed another short kiss, though they were getting lazier and lazier as the two of them just soaked in the warmth and security of their room, scents intermingling. Their bodies pressed tightly together under the sheets.
Shane was nearly asleep when he heard something, a statement that sent a jolt right through him. It was as though he was tipping over the cliff before but instead of falling, someone dropped a bucket of cold water on his head.
“I’ve been thinking lately, about our little family— about what it might be like to have a third baby—” it was barely out of his mouth before Shane was sitting up in bed with one of his own looks.
“Ilya, of all the times, of all the days, of all the moments to suggest baby three, it’s the day after we barely survive the silent treatment of a toddler that might just be the head of the household by the end of the week, a child who we’ve already survived the first days of kindergarten and first grade by the skin of our teeth and with about three tissue boxes combined, when we’re in the middle of a season?” Shane whispered, giving Ilya an incredulous look.
“Mmm, but you did so well with her today, and how sweet she was tonight— and I’ll deal with a million and one first days of school if it means that I get to see how much you care for our children, provide for our home, how much love you have for us all, and I thought we agreed on a whole hockey team, we have to get—”
Shane let out a sound, a shocked laugh erupting from him before he decided to shut Ilya up for just a moment before he really started to get too far into the idea that baby three wouldn’t be terrible even just timing wise. So, he of course did what he knew, he jumped on top of Ilya, playfully pinning him to the mattress. “Excuse me, when the hell did we agree to that? Who is the one that has to carry all your babies? And you are so much worse at drop off days on first days, there is absolutely no way that you would survive many more than the ones we’ve already got coming—”
Ilya’s hands shifted to grip Shane’s hips with a devilish grin on his face. “But you look so incredible carrying my babies, just think, another little one, your eyes, little blonde curls, the little scrunch, your freckles, your smile, your—”
“Shh,” Shane pressed a hand against Ilya’s face, trying to get him to shut it before the wheels started turning too much in his head. Ilya Rosanov knew his weak-spots. So what if the silent treatment antics were rubbing off on him in these moments.
Ilya’s hands drifted lower, grabbing Shane’s ass in his hands with a firm squeeze. “Besides, think of all the fun we’ll have in the meantime,” the grin not leaving his face, but a newfound gleam in his blue eyes.
“You are an absolute asshole— you act like we never have sex anyway— last I checked—”
It was Ilya’s turn to press a hand against his face, trying to shush him. “Careful, kotenok, let’s not get something started that we can’t stop.”
Shane was already wide awake at this point and had nothing to lose. “Who said we have to stop?”
Ilya was quick to switch their positions, kicking off the blankets as he pressed Shane against the bed. “You are a dangerous, dangerous man.”
Shane just pulled him into a kiss, stupid grin on his face as their bodies pressed together once again.