Chapter Text
February 2024
“I think it should be you.”
Shane, seated at the kitchen table, looked up from his laptop. “What, babe?”
Ilya slid into the chair next to him. “You looked at family medical history. Yours is more…” Ilya waves a hand vaguely, “has more details than mine. And all of yours are very healthy. My dad had dementia. Mama had mental illness. Mama’s mother had breast cancer and her dad died of cancer. Don’t remember what kind. For sure some alcoholism on my father’s side. I do not know what all is…” another hand wave.
“Hereditary?”
“Yes, I do not know what all is hereditary, but your family is healthier than mine. I think you should be genetic parent to our kids.”
Shane pushed the screen of his laptop halfway closed and turned to give his husband his full attention. “Okay, that makes sense. We can talk about it more if you want though.”
Ilya huffed. “So, my kids will look like you. Oh no! I guess they will be extra adorable. How will I cope.”
Shane smiled, leaned over, and gave Ilya a quick kiss on the cheek. “I was actually just looking at…” He opened his laptop again, turning it in Ilya’s direction. “Here, egg donor profiles. I was thinking that if it’s you we should maybe find one with Japanese heritage, but if it’s me, then we could look for Russian heritage. What do you think?”
Ilya’s smile was soft. “That sounds very nice. I was also thinking. When we got married, neither of us changed our names.”
“Well, we kind of have to keep our names. For hockey. We’ve been known by these names for more than a decade. And if we both become Rozanov-Hollanders, they’ll mix us up, not to mention have a hell of a time fitting it on a jersey.”
Ilya nods, impatient, “Shane. Yes. I know. Is not what I’m saying. You don’t change your name. I like you Shane Hollander. And I want our kids to be Hollanders. I just,” he breathes, “I just also want to be a Hollander. I want to share a name with my kids. And with you.”
Shane takes Ilya’s hand. “Okay, okay, we can do that. Would you hyphenate?”
Ilya squeezes Shane’s hand but shakes his head. “No, no, listen, I have plan. My middle name is from my father and I do not like. So we get rid of it and Rozanov becomes middle name. Still use it for hockey obviously. You can still be best Hollander hockey player,” Ilya winks, “at least until our children start breaking all our records. But legally and outside of hockey I will be a Hollander.”
Shane fought to control his smile. “Ilya, I would love that.”
March 2025
A sharp cry jolted Shane awake. Before he’d even had a moment to come to his senses, he felt the mattress and covers shift as Ilya jumped out of bed like he was on fire.
By the time Shane managed to push himself upright, seated against the headboard, Ilya had lifted Hana from the crib next to the bed and was gently rocking her as he swayed, murmuring in Russian. Shane’s tired brain struggled to translate.
As far as Shane could decipher, Ilya was murmuring something along the lines of, “my sweet girl, what’s wrong? You’re OK. Papa’s here. You don’t have to cry. Papa will make sure everything is OK.”
Shane swung his legs off the side of the bed. He kissed Ilya’s shoulder on his way to the bedroom door. “I’ll grab a bottle.”
Ilya nodded, continuing to murmur reassurances to Hana.
When he returned with the bottle, he offered to take Hana, but Ilya took the bottle from him instead. Hana immediately latched, and Ilya smiled down at her as she closed her eyes and relaxed in his arms. Shane slipped behind him, wrapping his arms around Ilya’s torso, pressing himself to his back and letting his body follow Ilya’s easy sways.
Two hours later, Shane once again stirred from sleep, feeling Ilya slide out of bed. He lifted his head. He watched as Ilya leaned over the crib, holding his breath. After a moment, Ilya exhaled, relieved. He remained there for a moment, watching their daughter, then turned back to the bed.
He met Shane’s eyes as he crawled back onto the bed. “You’re OK?” Shane asked.
“Yes, just woke up and wanted to check on her. I am OK Shane.” Ilya stroked a thumb across Shane’s cheek and Shane closed his eyes.
“I love you, Ilya.”
“I love you, too, Shane.”
May 2025
Shane stirred and opened his eyes. He rolled toward the center of the bed and blinked. Where is Ilya?
Shane yawned and swung his legs off the side of the bed. The clock read 02:11AM. He sighed and stood. He knew where Ilya was.
On his way out of the bedroom, he stopped at the armchair in the corner and picked up the throw blanket folded there.
Shane crept quietly out the bedroom door and across the hall. He stopped, leaning in the doorway for a moment, just observing.
Ilya stood next to the crib his hands gently gripping the railing, his bare shoulders rising and falling shallowly, head tilted and eyes fixed on the tiny body in the crib.
“Hey,” Shane whispered.
Ilya’s head rose and he turned to look at Shane, softly smiling.
Shane approached as Ilya turned back to the crib. He draped the blanket around his husband’s shoulders and ran a hand up and down his back. Ilya placed a hand on Shane’s waist and tugged him into his side. Shane turned, kissed his shoulder, then leaned his head there.
For a moment, the two of them just stood with their arms around each other, watching their little girl’s breaths.
“Was it another dream or did you just wake up?” Shane inquired softly.
Ilya leaned his cheek against the top of Shane’s head. “Another dream. I do not remember what happened but it was not good. I woke up feeling very worried. I needed to make sure she was OK.”
Shane closed his eyes, “Will you come back to bed?”
Ilya nodded, his stubble gently brushing through Shane’s hair. He didn’t move though.
Shane extricated himself from Ilya’s embrace, took his hand, and gently tugged.
Ilya exhaled and followed. At the door he turned back for one last look.
They returned to the bedroom, Ilya dropping the throw blanket back on the chair, crawling into bed, and curling up into the fetal position. Shane climbed in on the other side, pulled the covers up to Ilya’s shoulder, and tucked himself in behind his husband.
Ilya pulled Shane’s arms under his neck and over his waist. He pulled Shane’s hand to his lips and pressed a long kiss there. “Shane, I…” He began, but trailed off.
“Ilya, you’re trembling,” Shane said, tightening his hold and pressing a kiss where his neck and shoulder meet.
“I’m… Shane, I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so scared and you’re so strong and I’m sorry I’m not stronger because I’m sure you’re scared too but I’m such a mess you have to hold us both up –” Shane could hear the tears in Ilya’s voice.
“Shhhh,” Shane assured him. “We are OK. This is all very scary. But you’re OK and I’m OK and Hana is OK. Couples become new parents all the time and you’re right – it’s terrifying. But I know we can do this, and it will all be easier if you manage to get some sleep.”
Ilya sniffled. “Yes, you are right. You are right.” He inhaled shakily and choked on a small sob.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
“I keep thinking something will happen to her, Shane. Why do I keep thinking that?” His voice is raw. “Is terrible thought but I cannot get it out of my head.”
“I know, I know,” Shane whispers. “But I’ve got you both. I’ve got both of you. You’re safe. You’re both safe.”
“I love you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Ilya’s breathing is evening out. His trembling has eased.
“I’m not going anywhere. I love you.” Shane pressed a kiss to the back of Ilya’s neck. “I love you and I’ve got you.”