Chapter Text
In hindsight, they probably should have seen this coming.
Ever since they got back together, things had been going so well. Too well.
Shane and Ilya had both been worried a bit about the move to Toronto. Ever since the split, Shane had been in Montreal with Clayton, and Ilya had been in Boston with Evan. The boys both had pretty well established lives, and to move at thirteen when friendship circles were well established would be a challenge. But the boys had both made friends in Toronto and loved being on the same hockey team, and had stayed in touch with their friends from Boston and Montreal.
This summer had been a very busy one. The boys had gone back to Camp MLH Junior while their fathers were running their hockey camps, and of course, there was wedding planning. The wedding happened near the end of the summer, and by the end of the summer, everyone was exhausted. The baby was due to arrive in October, and Shane and Ilya would go on their honeymoon once the baby was old enough to leave with the grandparents for a few days. They'd spent most of the last few weeks of summer relaxing at the cottage, and today, they were driving home for a few days at home before the boys went back to school.
The drive from Lanaudière to Toronto was much longer from the drive from Lanaudière to Ottawa or Montreal, and Ilya was not looking forward to it. He was tired of being tired all the time. The wedding had been great, and he was glad they were married again, but he was glad they wouldn't have to deal with this again, at least not until the boys got married. He looked at the spot in the bed next to him. It looked like Shane had gone for a run. Of course he had. They had a six-hour drive ahead of them, but Shane was still going out for a run. At least that meant staying in bed longer.
Sure enough, Shane came into the room, in shorts and a tank top, sweaty from his run. "Did you have a good run?" Ilya asked.
Shane gave Ilya a smirk. "I did, but you know we're heading home today, and we should probably start loading up the car."
Ilya pouted. "I'm tired."
Shane gave his husband a kiss. "Poor Ilya. You slept later than any of us. The boys and I started loading up the car, but we should probably get going before there's too much traffic on the roads. Since you're still tired, I'll take the first driving shift."
Ilya knew Shane and the boys were probably tired, too. But Shane did have enough energy to go for a run, and the boys had been up before he was, which, until these last few weeks, was pretty unusual, especially for Evan. "Before we know it, the boys are going to be able to take driving shifts." He got out of bed and started heading to the dresser, taking off his nightshirt.
"The thought of our boys behind the wheel - " Shane stopped mid sentence.
Ilya noticed that Shane had stopped. "Is it that terrifying?" He turned to face his husband, who had a confused, upset look on his face.
Shane's eyes narrowed. "You have some bruises on your back. I don't remember you falling down recently."
Ilya didn't remember that either. Shane could be such a worrywart. "Don't worry, Shane. I probably bumped into something. Didn't you say you needed a shower?"
Shane still looked concerned. "Yeah."
Ilya looked over his shoulder in their bedroom mirror once he was alone. Shane was right. There were bruises on his back. Maybe he hadn't really looked in the mirror, but they were definitely there, about five of them. Some were bigger than others. It was very odd. He tried to think about how he could have gotten them. Had he bumped into anything recently?
He pulled a shirt on over his back, hoping Shane would forget about the bruises. They'd fade eventually. And Clayton had inherited Shane's anxiety. He didn't want to worry his son as well. He went into the kitchen, where the boys were having breakfast. "Can you two believe next year, we'll be bringing your sister here?" he asked them, hoping that whenever Shane got out of the shower, the mood would be changed and the bruises wouldn't be brought up.
"And we don't have a bedroom for her," Evan pointed out. That was true. The cottage only had three bedrooms.
"We should probably put her crib in Dad's and my room next year, and then we can figure something out," Ilya admitted. Once they got back home, they should probably get started on the nursery. They'd already moved the guest bed out of one of the guest rooms and started to talk about a color to paint the wall. It was hard to believe their daughter was going to be here in just a few months. Last summer, one of the first questions the boys had asked was if they would have had more children if they hadn't split up. They knew they would have. That conversation hadn't left Shane and Ilya's minds, and during the holiday season, they asked the boys what they would think of a baby sibling. The boys had liked the idea, and to everyone's surprise, it had worked on the first try.
Right now, the boys were talking about names for their sister and couldn't see to agree on one. "How did you guys come up with our names?" Clayton asked.
"Your dad picked yours, he said it just felt right," Ilya said before turning to Evan. "And we didn't really want to use Russian names, but Evan is similar to Ivan, so I decided to go with it."
"So we might just see what she looks like," Clayton contemplated. "I'd like to know her name before she gets here."
"We don't want to give her the wrong name, though," Evan added. "Or a bad one."
That was another way Shane and Ilya were lucky - the boys wanted to be involved every step of the way with their sister's arrival. They wanted to see the ultrasound photos when they came in. They wanted to help pick out things for the nursery. They wanted to be involved with choosing her name. Most teenage boys might not want to be involved, but not these two. They might not be this enthusiastic when she was up in the middle of the night, but they were right now.
Soon, Shane came out of the shower, carrying the last two bags. Ilya walked over to him. "I can take one of those bags."
"No, you're not," Shane whispered. Great. Shane hadn't forgotten about the bruises.
"It's just bruises," Ilya whispered back.
"I still want you to be careful," Shane whispered back.
Ilya wanted to tell Shane he was overreacting. He followed Shane to the car, where Shane put the bags in the trunk. The boys got in the back seat and told Shane that they'd been talking with Ilya about names they had in mind for their sister. The car hit the highway for the six-hour drive.
"Ilya, wake up."
Ilya felt Shane nudging him. He opened his eyes. Crap, had he fallen asleep? He must have. "I'm sorry, Shane. I'm so tired."
Shane looked concerned. "Obviously. Our sons were talking for the whole three hours about every topic you can think of, and you slept right through it."
"What's going on?" Ilya asked.
"Gas break," Shane said. "I sent the boys in to get drinks. Are you sure you're okay?"
"It's been a busy summer," Ilya said back.
Shane stared at Ilya. "It's been a busy summer for all of us, with the camps and the wedding."
"Yeah," Ilya agreed.
The boys came into the car. Evan was handing out the drinks. "Coke for you, ginger ale for you, and milkshakes for us."
Of course the boys had gotten milkshakes for themselves. Ilya didn't have the energy to tell them that they shouldn't have them before lunch. However, he was surprised that Shane didn't say anything to them about that and simply said, "Thank you, boys."
Ilya looked at Shane. "Don't you want me to take over driving?" He was still tired, but he felt guilty about having Shane do the entire drive.
"I can do it," Shane said simply.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Ilya was awake for most of the drive home, but he noticed Shane looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Shane also asked multiple times if everyone was okay and if everyone was comfortable. Ilya knew those questions were meant for him, as their sons were definitely okay and comfortable.
The truth was, the car ride was not completely comfortable. Ilya was feeling carsick and dizzy, but the last thing he wanted to do was stress Shane out more.
It was the first time returning home to Toronto as a married couple.
Shane felt lucky to have so many places that felt like home: Ottawa, Montreal, Lanaudière, and now Toronto. But after seeing Ilya's bruises this morning, he couldn't stay fully relaxed.
Maybe it was an overreaction. But these bruises looked suspicious to him. He didn't want to say anything in front of their children in case it turned out to be nothing. But after seeing the bruises, and coupling it with how tired Ilya had been these past few weeks, he was more and more worried, and was proud of himself for getting his family, their car, and their luggage home okay. Ilya had blamed being tired on the wedding planning and the camps and getting ready for the baby. Shane could relate, to an extent, but he wasn't this tired. And that was what concerned him.
"We don't have any food at the house," Evan pouted as soon as the car pulled into the driveway.
"We can get lunch delivered, and we'll go to the grocery store later," Shane told his sons. "Let's get our things inside first. But we're going to get healthy food for lunch, because two certain people thought it was okay to get milkshakes before lunch."
The boys exchanged a look. "Troublemakers," Ilya said.
At least Ilya was teasing the boys. That was something. Everyone worked their way inside to unpack, but when Shane and Ilya worked their way to their bedroom, Shane once again found himself concerned when Ilya collapsed on their bed. "That was a rough car ride," Ilya told Shane. "I'm still feeling nauseous and have a bit of a headache."
Shane had been in the car, and felt fine. The boys were downstairs and seemed fine. "Maybe you should see a doctor..." Shane began cautiously.
"A doctor?" Ilya asked. "Shane, do you see a doctor every time you're tired?"
"No, but this has been going on for weeks, and the boys and I have been just as busy," Shane continued. "I'd rather overreact than not react and then have ignored something big. A few years ago, one of Clayton's teammates was tired all the time and had some of your other symptoms, and then they found out he was anemic." He hoped he was overreacting, but he wasn't sure.
"So you think I'm anemic?" Ilya asked.
"Not necessarily," Shane went on carefully. "You can hold it over my head if it turns out nothing's wrong. You can get the boys to make fun of me for overreacting, too."
Ilya leaned in and kissed Shane. "Oh, I'll do that." He paused. "How's Clayton's teammate who's anemic doing now?"
"Well, you saw him in most of the boys' games we went to last year," Shane continued. "He's the main goalie. So anemia is very treatable with supplements. I just want to get you supplements if this is what's going on." He sincerely hoped this wasn't anything worse, if anything at all. Maybe it was just the fact that it had been a busy summer, and Ilya had bumped into something. He lay next to Ilya on the bed and wrapped one of his arms around his husband, twisting one of his curls around one of his fingers with his other hand.