Chapter Text
The call came around three in the morning.
At first, Shane thought it might have been his alarm, which was set to go off at five so he could get a jump on his daily run. He rolled over, intending to shut it off when he realized it wasn’t his phone buzzing on the nightstand.
Yawning, he nudged Ilya beside him. “Is someone calling you?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
Ilya muttered something and rolled over, silencing the call before flopping back into his cocoon of blankets that he had somehow stolen during the night. Rolling his eyes, Shane pulled some back right as the phone went off again.
“Ay,” Ilya whined, rolling over again. Shane took the opportunity to commandeer more blankets as Ilya squinted at the flashing phone. He smacked his lips a few times before accepting the call. “Go away, I do not wish to buy things. You call again, I’ll eat your firstborn child.”
Shane snorted, hitting Ilya’s arm as the voice responded. Whatever the person said was short, but it sent Ilya sitting up straight. “Shtoh?” he asked, the sleep gone from his voice. A garbled voice answered.
The rest of Ilya’s responses were in rapid Russian, leaving Shane to try and catch the few words he knew in silent confusion. After a few minutes, Shane heard the name ‘Sofia’ and a heaviness filled the air.
Sofia.
Shane knew the name in an abstract sort of way. Irina was the only family member Shane knew directly by name, but he had heard others over the years and began to put together a vague family tree. Alexei was his brother. Katarina his sister-in-law. Grigori his father. Polina his stepmother.
Which meant Sofia, if she was indeed a relative, had to be his niece.
And honestly, Shane only knew Ilya had a niece because he had access to all of their finances, and Ilya contributed pretty regularly to her trust fund.
From his side of the bed, Ilya made a disgusted noise, lips curling in distaste. He snapped something back to the person on the phone and ended the call.
Silence.
“Are you okay?” Shane asked, sitting up to put a hand on his forearm. Without the glow of the phone, he couldn’t see his face, so instead he reached over to turn on a lamp. “Ilya,” he prompted gently.
He wasn’t sure what he expected. If the phone call was in Russian, it probably had to do with Alexei, which always meant an angry, sulky Ilya. But that wasn’t what the lamp revealed. Instead, he was faced with someone who looked like they had just gotten shot.
“Dead.” Ilya swallowed and then shook his head. “Um, Alexei. He’s…”
Oh, shit.
“Ilya, I’m so sorry,” Shane said, reaching over to grab his hand.
A few more seconds passed. “Katarina too,” he finally managed. “They said it was… an accident.” He looked doubtful.
“An accident like your mother’s accident?” Shane asked carefully.
Ilya shook his head. “No. I… Alexei likely made someone very important, very mad.” He collapsed against the headboard. “And Katarina must have gotten roped into it.”
That was dark and incredibly terrifying.
“They told me Sofia is to go with Polina,” Ilya added, and his nostrils flared. “Katarina’s parents died long ago. They said Polina is the only person to take her. They said Alexei’s will stated that she would go with her, but that is not true.”
With every word, his voice grew tighter and louder. More upset injected into each letter. Shane got the feeling he was about to learn a few things about the Rozanovs that Ilya had been keeping under lock and key.
“You don’t think Alexei would want Sofia with Polina…?” he deduced.
Ilya’s face darkened. “Alexei was many things,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not all of them good, but he loved his daughter very much. I do not believe for a second he would leave her with that woman. She’s…” Ilya trailed off, but Shane didn’t bother to prompt him again. After a few more minutes, he continued.
“I was fifteen when my father married Polina. They wanted children. It did not happen. It made Polina very upset to see Alexei and me, knowing that my mother gave my father something she couldn’t. It made her… questionable toward us.” Ilya grimaced. “And then Sofia was born. She got older, and my father said she looked like my mother. Polina did not like that at all.” A sigh. “Alexei claims he walked in on Polina trying to hurt Sofia. I wasn’t there. I don’t know. All I know was I have never in my life seen him so upset… and he is always upset.” A pause. “He was always upset,” Ilya corrected with a frown. “My father had to intervene, but Alexei made it very clear Polina was never to be alone with his daughter again.”
Shane nodded. He wished he knew better things to say in situations like this. Some sort of magical thing that could ease the pain, he knew Ilya kept close to his chest. But sometimes there was nothing, and Shane was left to helplessly sit there and suffer with him.
Except…
“So where is Sofia going to go?” he asked. Ilya’s eyes flicked to him. “It doesn’t sound like she can go with Polina. Is there a foster family or something she would be placed in?”
“They say it is in Alexei’s will. Someone would need to intercede and ask for custody for Sofia to keep her from Polina.” Ilya shook his head. “There is no one.”
“There’s us.”
The words left Shane’s mouth before he could fully process them himself. He and Ilya had talked about kids before. They both wanted them. Ideally, when they were both retired and more out of the spotlight to prevent any potential children from becoming media fodder. Plus, logistically, it was just better. Traveling so much during the season wouldn’t be good for a child, surely.
But he and Ilya were both still playing. On the same schedule, on the same team, with no immediate signs of slowing down. It was an insane suggestion, and yet…
“I’m not going to ask you to do that,” Ilya said, and Shane waved his hand, dismissing the words immediately.
“It’s my idea. Would you want to do that?”
Ilya pursed his lips. “Maybe,” he admitted. “I do not want her with Polina, but… I warn you, Sofia is my brother’s daughter. In every sense of the word. I haven’t seen her since my father’s funeral. She was four. She’d be nine now,” he grimaced.
A good point. Their relationship had only come out last year. Given what Shane knew about Russia, there was no way anyone had told Sofia anything nice about Ilya and Shane since that point.
“What do you mean she’s like Alexei?” Shane decided to ask instead. After all, she was only a little girl. That seemed like a reach to compare a then four-year-old to her asshole father.
Ilya only shrugged. “He encouraged her to misbehave. Once, she bit a child at daycare, and he bought her ice cream. I assume this continued, and she must be a terror now.”
“But you don’t know that for sure,” Shane said. “And even if that’s true, I wouldn’t let it scare me. If you think it’s the right thing to do, we can intervene.”
Ilya swallowed, turning to look at Shane with soft eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Maybe we should think about it.”
“What other option are you comfortable with?” Shane asked, already knowing the answer.
Sure enough, only silence met the question.
“This will not be easy,” Ilya warned, absently touching Shane’s freckles as he always did when he was particularly stressed. “My brother didn’t name me as a guardian, and Russia will not be too happy to give one of their citizens over to someone who famously married another man.” He let his head fall back against the headboard. “And the media will be insufferable.”
Shane nodded. Yes, this entire situation would be a fight…and, even if they won, this little girl may not be pleased to go with them.
“And if she stays with Polina?” he asked cautiously. “What would that mean for her?”
Ilya wrinkled his nose. “Nothing good,” he finally admitted.
Shane patted his leg.
“Make the call. I’ll get our lawyers up to speed in the morning.”
Thus began the longest custody battle of Shane’s life.
The first month, it was bearable. Yes, there was paperwork and lots of phone calls and late night meetings and such, but Shane had anticipated this. And the matter was still private. They had brought his parents into the fold, who were more than happy to support where they could.
“Does she like hockey?” his mother had asked eagerly and then raised her hands. “No. No, I won’t force anything.” She looked at Ilya with a bit of hope. Shane’s father smiled, leaning over to kiss his wife’s head, though this did little to distract her from the promise of another hockey player entering the family. “But if she already is a fan…”
“As far as I know, she has never played hockey,” Ilya told her, eyes bright with amusement.
His mother frowned, but it quickly rolled off her. “I’ll be the first one to show her hockey then,” she murmured to herself and pulled out her phone to start ordering child-sized jerseys.
The second and third months were harder. People came by to ask them questions, figuring out if they were suitable parents. More legalities. Most precedents dictated that a child needed to reside in their home country or where they had social ties. Considering Sofia had never even left Russia, it made a hard case for them.
On top of all of that, there was the idea of proving Polina an unfit parent. Without Alexei there to report on Polina’s behavior, it really was Ilya’s word against hers, which… was not great.
So, instead, they focused on more practical things.
“Why would she need to learn French if she hasn’t mastered English? That makes no sense.”
Ilya was waving around a pamphlet like it could shield him from the news that, in addition to finding a good school, they needed to make sure Sofia got French tutoring. Something that Shane refused to budge on despite Ilya’s dismissal that French was ‘not an important language’ and ‘people only used it to sound fancy’.
“Because she’s young and now is the best time for her to learn a new language,” Shane explained for the hundredth time. Ilya pursed his lips. “People here speak French as well as English, Ilya. If she’s going to adjust-”
“I live here, and I don’t speak French!”
“Fine! I’ll sign you up for French classes too!” Shane snapped, and Ilya threw up his hands, proclaiming he would never speak a word of French, and Shane couldn’t make him go to a goddamn thing.
(In the end, they compromised, and Ilya didn’t have to take official lessons as long as he downloaded some kind of language app to practice on.)
The fourth month was when everything leaked to the media. Shane woke up to find news outlets splashing their names in every headline. Some were supportive… some were not. Ilya wouldn’t even tell him what some of the Russian news outlets were saying.
“Why do you get to be the fun one?” Shane muttered as he scrolled through Instagram on his phone, dismayed to see the fans had already pigeonholed them into whatever parental roles they thought fit best. “Everyone is saying you’ll be the fun one!”
Ilya took a bite of his cereal and nodded. “I am the fun one,” she said, mouth full. He wiped some milk from his chin and swallowed. “But it is fine. You will be the boring one, and that is probably more important.”
Shane huffed. “I am going to be so fun,” he said, running through what sort of things Hayden’s kids liked to do. “We will… play… Trivial Pursuit,” he decided. “Every night.”
Ilya smiled, looking as if Shane had somehow proved his point. “So fun,” he agreed, and Shane threw his phone at him.
The fifth month was when Shane was starting to wonder what exactly they had gotten themselves into. Individually, both he and Ilya were millionaires. They had a combined income and no children. Arguably, they made way more money than any reasonable person would expect.
And yet, even Shane clutched his pearls when he saw the pile of legal fees awaiting them.
“Oh,” his father said when Shane showed him the bills. “That is… quite a chunk of change.”
His mother leaned over to peer at the paper. Her eyes only landed on the number for a moment before she nodded. “It’s time,” she said, ignoring Shane’s confused tilt of the head. That was, until she cupped her hands around her mouth to let out an ungodly yell. “ILYA! YOU’RE SIGNING THAT PARTNERSHIP CONTRACT!” A devastated scream came from the other room. “I AM LOOKING AT YOUR BILLS, HON. YOU NEED THE MONEY!”
The door swung open, revealing a frazzled-looking Ilya, holding yet another form written in Russian.
“You cannot force me to sell my body to the perfume man,” he said, leaving Shane to wonder what discussions he had missed to lead to that particular comment. “I won’t do it! I am stronger than him.” He pointed to Shane, who felt a bit insulted that his campaigns were being disparaged.
His mother narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have to do the cologne ad, but you’re doing one for Rollex. I might be able to swing Bugatti,” she added, voice lowering into something more tempting.
A pause.
“...Bugatti?” Ilya asked suspiciously. He turned to David, as if he might be able to validate this claim.
Shane’s father glanced at his wife before shuffling over to Ilya. After a few moments of convening through whispers, Ilya nodded to himself.
“I will sell my soul to Bugatti,” he announced.
His mother beamed. “Good,” she said and patted Shane’s shoulder as she passed. “That should keep you out of debt for a bit.”
Shane had a feeling that by the time the week was done, he’d also have another brand deal signed.
Month six was when everyone was starting to lose hope. The lawyers informed them that this could take around four years, but God, was it exhausting. Given the time difference, Ilya had to stay up to talk to anyone in Russia himself, and it wasn’t like either of them could let any of this affect their performance on the ice.
Their team, bless them, were aggressively supportive, causing renewed strength in their attempts. Especially as Ilya worried over what Sofia’s life currently consisted of as they duked it out with Russian courts.
“I… would die for this child,” Hazy said, drunkenly placing a hand on Shane’s shoulder as he swayed. They were out for the first time in months after a big win, though Shane and Ilya were pretty much half-asleep on the club’s couch. The team had been nice enough to rent out the entire club so they could switch out the flashing lights and pounding music to something not as overbearing. “You are going to be the best parents.”
Troy snickered. “Can you imagine?” he asked, kicking Ilya’s leg to wake him up. “I can’t wait to see these two handle a kid.”
“We’re good with kids!” Shane objected with a yawn. Someone put another beer in his hand.
“Yeah,” Ilya agreed, rubbing his eyes. “Look how good we are with Luca!”
“I’m not even a rookie anymore!” Luca wailed from the other side of the room.
“Hollander, are we going to see you channeling your inner captain?” Bood snickered. “Hey!” he said, mimicking Shane. “We have to focus on the homework, guys. Our multiplication tables were weak last night!”
The group cackled. Shane scowled. Whatever.
“Oh, but what about Roz?” Dykstra asked. “I want to see a pregame speech from him except it’s for selling Girl Guide cookies.” He cleared his throat, feigning a bad Russian accent. “It doesn’t matter how many Thin Mints we sold last night!” he shouted, and Hayes gave him a salute. “That doesn’t fucking matter. I need to sell more than Karen’s mom. Here. Now!”
The group burst into another round of laughter.
“You laugh,” Ilya told them. “But that is not so different from the speech I gave before I won my first Stanley Cup.”
“Dude, this girl better have some patience to put up with you two,” Troy mused, and handed Ilya another beer.
Months seven and eight showed some hopeful progress, but nothing big moved. Nine and ten felt stagnant. Eleven and twelve nearly sent them into a spiral as they tried to figure out every little aspect of their lives and explain how they might fit this little girl into it. Appeals came. Counter lawsuits. Words Shane didn’t even fully comprehend.
The media had happily followed them into the second year of this custody battle when the news came.
Approved.
It came so suddenly that Shane didn’t quite understand what had happened. A week ago, the Russian courts had aggressively been blocking every move they made, and now it was just… over? They were just relenting?
“It is possible,” one of the lawyers said carefully. “That Ms. Rozanova has done something that made it clear she was an unfit guardian, and so they are dropping the matter altogether.” Ilya’s eyes flashed at that, but he didn’t respond, instead only grabbing Shane’s hand. “We’re fortunate that this ended up being such a quick process!”
Their bank accounts and sanity would disagree, but Shane only smiled weakly.
Great. They won. Excellent. The lawyers left, promising more details on next steps and Sofia’s arrival.
Her arrival.
She was coming. Here.
This now ten-year-old, whom they were now responsible for.
Holy fucking shit.
“What have we done?” Shane asked suddenly. Based on the look on Ilya’s face, he was thinking the same thing. At no point over the year they had fought for Sofia did they allow themselves to digest the reality of getting her. Sure, they had laid out a plan of how they would take care of her, what schools she’d attend, where she’d sleep, who would watch her if they weren’t around…
But holy shit. Now it was real, and Shane might throw up.
“Call your mother,” Ilya requested. When Shane blinked, he gave a panicked gesture. “Call her! She knows things!”
That was fair enough, so Shane brought out his phone and dialed.
“Hey, honey-”
Ilya snapped the phone from Shane before he could even return the greeting. “They are actually giving us my niece. Now there will be a child. What do we do?” he asked, voice rising with panic. “I like children. They are good and funny and cute, but I give them back when they get too hard! This one I cannot give back! She stays here! Forever! What if she does not like it here? What if she does not like waffles?”
The last part, at least, brought Shane back to earth. “Then we won’t make her waffles,” he answered his husband, aghast. “Why specifically are you asking about-?”
“Wait, you won the case?!” his mother cut in. A gasp sounded. “DAVID! WE’RE GRANDPARENTS!” she screeched.
“Are you?” Shane asked, a little perplexed. Ilya was Sofia’s uncle, and she very well knew who her parents were. They may now be her guardians, but he kind of doubted she would think of them as parents in that respect. Though, to be fair, he wasn’t sure what she would think of the rest of the Hollanders.
“Yuna, what do we do?” Ilya asked, running a hand over his face. “How did you raise Shane?” He looked over at his husband with his lip caught between his teeth. “My God, what if she is nothing like Shane? Will you know what to do? Can you even help us if she isn’t like Shane?!” he asked, voice rising. “Do not make me go to Hayden Pike for help, Yuna!”
…that was actually not a bad idea. Hayden had an army of kids. Surely he had some advice.
“Let’s not panic,” David’s voice interjected. “We don’t know much about her yet. Let’s just… prepare. You two are going to be amazing at this, I promise,” he reassured them.
Shane hoped and prayed that might be the truth. They might be better than Polina, sure, but did that mean they would still be good at this? This was a little orphaned girl who had been raised in Russia with Ilya’s very questionable brother. It was bound to be complicated.
“...okay,” Ilya said, sounding a bit like he had been hit in the head. His eyes moved to Shane. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Shane agreed.
“Okay,” Ilya repeated.
And then they hung up to sign the papers.