Chapter Text
Something was wrong.
Ilya felt it before he even opened the front door. He had felt it all the way the driveway. He had felt it the whole drive home from the arena. Had felt it with every unanswered check-in text that he had sent.
He wasn’t even supposed to be at home. He was supposed to be sneaking into a hotel room in a low baseball cap and sunglasses.
His lateness to that room would be noted but the sick feeling in his gut that he’d been holding onto before he even stepped foot on the ice had forced him in the direction of his house without a second thought.
Ilya would make it up to him later.
He unlocked the front door and opened his mouth to call out. His daughter’s screaming cries preemptively drowned out any sound he might have made.
Ilya dropped his bag and pounded up the stairs. He almost walked right past Svetlana’s room to get to the baby, but he caught sight of her lying prostrate on her bed in the dark and stopped short.
He pivoted and knelt down on the floor beside the bed, stroking Svetlana’s curls and speaking gently to her in Russian.
‘Sveta? Hey, hey. Look at me, baby. Are you okay? Sick?’
She groaned and curled further into her pillow. Her face was wet with tears she made no effort to wipe away.
‘Talk to me. What’s going on?’
‘Baby’s crying.’
‘I know, I hear her. Why are you in bed? Not feeling well?’
‘She won’t stop crying. I can’t make her stop crying,’ Svetlana whimpered.
‘Okay, I’m gonna go check on her. Then I’ll be right back with you, okay?’
Svetlana did not respond. Ilya got up and left the room.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he cursed as he hurried down the hallway towards their daughter’s room.
He flung open the door and immediately sighed with relief. She was standing up in her crib, her face bright red from screaming herself hoarse. She did not appear to be, Ilya was grateful to see, hurt.
‘It’s okay, my darling. Papa’s here. Shh, shh, Papa’s got you now.’ He reached into the crib and hefted the baby up into his arms.
He felt her forehead, which was a little warm. That was unsurprising, considering she was still crying very hard.
She’d worked herself up into quite a state and Ilya didn’t want to think about how long it had been since Svetlana had managed to check on her. Then he patted her bottom and realised that she had wet through both her diaper and her onesie.
‘Not comfy, huh, baby girl. Okay, we fix and then check on Mama, yes? Good girl, Klara.’
He practically cooed her name, revelling, as he always did, in how well it suited her. He often said the full thing, even though it was more conventional to change it into a pet-name.
Klara meant ‘light’ in Russian, just as Svetlana’s name did. Sveta had always been a light in Ilya’s dark life and their daughter was all the more. He took every opportunity he could to say it out loud.
As quickly as he could, Ilya stripped his daughter down and changed her diaper and her clothes. He dressed her in a onesie that Svetlana had bought when they first found out she was pregnant, in a size that had only recently begun to fit their fifteen-month old. It was pale yellow and had little hockey sticks and pucks all over it. Ilya had cried when he had first seen it, picturing the product of his love for Svetlana wearing it.
Because he did love Svetlana. He always had. Sure, he had never expected that they would have a baby together, especially at only twenty-two-years old. His daughter was no mistake, but she was certainly had been an accident.
When Svetlana had first told him that she was pregnant and that she wanted to keep the baby, he had offered to marry her, and offered to stop sleeping with other people. Offered her Heaven and the Earth if she would let him be part of their daughter’s life.
True to form, Svetlana had refused both offers.
‘Of course you will be in her life, Ilyusha,’ she had said. ‘You are forever part of mine, why wouldn’t I want you to be part of hers? But I won’t marry you. And I’m not going to stop dating so I don’t see why you should.’
‘But won’t it be strange for her? Parents that aren’t together but live in the same house to raise her?’
‘It won’t seem strange if it’s all she knows. Besides, all that matters is that her parents love each other and love her. Who cares how that love shows up?’
Ilya thought back on that conversation, and all the ones they had had about it since, as he cradled Klara to his chest and straightened up. Her crying had eased to snuffling whines, comforted by his presence and the freshening up he had given her.
‘Okay, my baby, let’s go see Mama.’
He walked Klara back to Svetlana’s bedroom. She had not moved, remaining in the pitch darkness.
‘Sveta, are you sick?’ he asked again. She did not respond. ‘Please, baby, you’re scaring me. Scaring Klasha, yes?’
‘Take her away.’ Svetlana released a low moan, not unlike the ones she had made when she was in labour. Deep and gutteral, almost animal. It frightened Ilya now, just as it had then.
‘She just wants to see that you’re okay. I’ll put her to bed in a min-...’
‘No, Ilya. Take her away from here. From me. Leave me and don’t come back. You’ll both be better off.’
‘Sveta, don’t talk like that,’ Ilya winced. Please don’t.’
‘Take her away.’
‘We’ve talked about this. We’re not leaving you. We love you.’
‘Leave me.’
Ilya went back out into the hallway, but he kept Svetlana’s door open so that he could hear if she moved from the bed.
He dug into his back pocket, rocking the now-quiet Klara in his arms. He scrolled through his contacts and found who he was looking for.
He answered on the second ring.
‘Hey, are you on your way?’
Ilya squeezed his eyes up tight. ‘I cannot come, Hollander. I-... I’m sorry, my daughter-...’
Hollander heard the worry in his voice and immediately asked, ‘Is she okay? Is she sick? Hurt? Rozanov, talk to me.’
‘No, she is fine,’ Ilya snapped out of his momentary stupor. ‘It is-... Svetlana is not-... I just can’t come to hotel tonight. I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t have to be sorry,’ Hollander said softly. ‘Can I help?’
‘No, I’m-... I’m fine.’
‘Ilya?’
Ilya’s breath caught in his throat.
Hollander - Shane - had never called him by his first name before. They didn’t do that. It was too close to friendship. Too close to something that they could not be.
Even if Ilya often found himself daydreaming of a world in which they could.
A heartbeat passed between them. Then another. Finally Ilya whispered, ‘Yes, Shane?’
‘Let me help. Please?’
Ilya nodded, although only Klara could see him. ‘Can you-... Can you come over?’
‘Send me the address.’
~
Telling Hollander about the baby had been the trickiest part.
Although Svetlana had said he could keep sleeping around, Ilya had found he had no appetite for it once his daughter became a reality. He cut off all of the women he used to hit up on the road and, later, once the news leaked that he was expecting a child, none of them bothered him again. But Hollander was different.
He had always been different.
It just so happened that the week after Ilya and Svetlana settled their plans and she began moving her things into his house in Boston, the Bears played the Voyageurs in Montreal.
For once, the second he saw Shane Hollander in his Montreal ‘sex condo’, Ilya did not pounce on him or tell him to get on his knees. Instead, he began to cry.
It had freaked Hollander all the way out, Ilya knew, but he was kind enough not to kick the snivelling Russian out of the condo. Instead, he had put his arms around him and held him while he cried.
After a few minutes of uninterrupted sobbing, Ilya managed to tell him what had happened.
Hollander had listened patiently and then clarified, ‘So you’re going to raise the baby together?’
‘Yes, but we will not be together. Just live in same house and parent. Will be easier to share the load and she lives in shitty apartment right now so I would rather she lived at the house. Is safer. I have alarm system.’
‘Why not be together?’ The little crease that he always got between his eyebrows when he was trying to work something out appeared on Hollander’s face. Ilya desperately wanted to smooth it out with his thumb, but he resisted. ‘Get married? You say you love her. I always got the impression she was different to the others women you sleep with.’
‘She is different,’ Ilya agreed. ‘But not that way. I love her, she’s my best friend. But she is like a sister, really.’
‘A sister you have sex with?’
Ilya made a face. ‘Gross, Hollander.’
Hollander threw up his hands. ‘I’m just trying to work it out, Rozanov.’
‘The sex was never-... It was just fun. A release when we were both horny and wanted something familiar.’ Ilya shrugged. ‘We lost our virginities to each other, she knows my body almost as well as-...’
As you do, Ilya wanted to say.
‘As I know my own body.’
‘Right,’ Hollander said tightly.
Ilya sighed. ‘I did offer to marry her, to do it right, but she doesn't want that. She wants us to stay the same just with a baby.’
Hollander released a little huff of laughter, an attempt to make Ilya feel better. ‘Then why all the tears?’
‘Because I don’t want anything to change between us.’
Hollander frowned. ‘You and Svetlana?’
‘Me and you, Hollander.’
The words landed between them, messy and uncertain. Ilya couldn’t bring himself to regret them. He had already played a lot of his cards by breaking down in tears in front of him.
‘Oh,’ Hollander said finally. ‘Well, why would it need to change? You’re still going to travel with hockey, we’ll see each other as much as we usually do. Sometimes maybe you won’t be able to meet up when we’re both in Boston if the baby needs you, but that’s not a big deal. It’s not like we’re a couple, Rozanov. I know you have a life outside of this. I do too.’
Ilya couldn’t help it. ‘Boring life,’ he sniffed.
‘Sure,’ Hollander chuckled. ‘But it’s still mine. It’s not worth getting upset about.’
‘It’s not just that.’
‘What else is there?’
Ilya knew he should stop. He had already said way too much. But Hollander had his hand on Ilya’s thigh and he was looking up at him with big brown eyes that seemed to say, “tell me”.
‘I’m worried I’ll be a bad father,’ Ily admitted.
‘Nah, no way,’ Hollander said immediately.
His response surprised Ilya so much that a surprised laugh fell from Ilya’s mouth. ‘What do you mean “no way”? How would you know?’
‘Because I know that even though you pretend to be all mean and scary on the ice and in the press that you are kind and gentle. You are fun and you’re really good with kids.’
Ilya’s eyes widened. ‘How do you know that?’
‘I’ve seen you, at games and stuff. Y’know, throwing them pucks, giving them your sticks, signing their shirts. You’re so natural with them. I’m shit at that stuff.’
‘You’re not shit,’ Ilya murmured.
‘My point is, you’re going to be a great father because you care about whether or not you will be a good father. Bad fathers don’t care if they’re bad.’
‘That is-…’ Ilya huffed out a laugh. ‘Actually very comforting, Hollander.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m good at more than just sex and hockey.’
Ilya smirked. ‘You are very good at sex.’
‘And hockey?’
‘Well, you see, Hollander, the problem is you have a very weak backhand-…’
Hollander hit him with a pillow. ‘Fuck off, Rozanov!’
~
The feeling of Ilya’s phone vibrating in his pocket jolted him out of his memories. He checked the screen and saw:
jane: I’m outside. Don’t want to ring the bell in case the baby’s sleeping.
The baby was sleeping, but she was doing so in Ilya’s arms, drooling a little on his shoulder. He moved to the front door and opened it with one hand, standing back so Hollander could come inside.
‘Hey,’ Hollander breathed. He looked endearingly concerned.
‘Thank you for coming. You did not have to.’
‘Of course I came.’ Ilya’s chest ached a little when Hollander put a gentle hand on Klara’s back and rubbed in a careful, soothing motion. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Sveta is-... Something’s wrong with her. She won’t get out of bed. And-...’
Ilya hesitated. The last thing he wanted was for Hollander to think Svetlana was a bad mother. But he had no idea what to do and Hollander was standing in front of him being so soft with him and his daughter.
He needed to tell him.
‘Klara was crying when I got home but it was like Sveta couldn’t even hear her.’
Hollander chewed on his bottom lip. ‘Is she sick?’
‘Not physically. I do not think so anyway. Maybe sick in mind. In heart, you know?’
‘Depressed?’
‘Yes. I think-...’ Ilya shrugged, careful not to disturb the baby. ‘She has had hard time since Klara came. Most days she is good and she loves her so much but sometimes is like she becomes a ghost.’
Hollander nodded. ‘Sounds like post-partum depression.’
Ilya latched onto the phrase like a starving man onto food. He searched Hollander’s face. ‘You know about this?’
‘My mom had it after she had me,’ Hollander explained. ‘My dad told me about it when I was older. And Jackie, that’s Hayden’s wife, she struggled after the twins were born. She has a good therapist though, and medication helped. I think that’s the only reason she was able to go through with having Arthur, too.’
‘I don’t know how to help her.’ Ilya hated how desperate he sounded. ‘I asked her to go to therapy but she would not. And she’s never-... She’s never left Klara to cry before, no matter how bad she was feeling.’
‘It’s okay, Rozanov. We’ll help her,’ Hollander soothed. ‘You don’t have to do this alone, okay?’
‘Okay. Thank you… Shane.’
A smile broke out on Hollander’s face at the sound of his own name. Then he asked, ‘Can I see her?’
Ilya wasn’t sure if it was what Svetlana would want, but he didn’t see that he had any other choice. ‘Um, okay. Yes.’
‘I’ll be careful with her, I promise,’ Hollander said, as if understanding that, to Ilya, Svetlana was precious and fragile enough to break.
‘Thank you. It’s through here.’
Ilya led him up to Svetlana’s bedroom and watched from the doorway as he crept inside.
‘Hi, Svetlana.’ Hollander’s voice was so quiet, Ilya could barely hear it. It was if he was coaxing a hurt animal from under a car tyre. ‘My name’s Shane. Can I come sit with you for a minute?’
Svetlana did not stir.
‘I’m just going to sit here, on the end of the bed. You don’t have to sit up, I just want to talk for a second.’
‘I do not need doctor,’ she barked out, making Ilya flinch.
Hollander continued calmly. ‘That’s good, because I’m not a doctor. I’d be a lousy doctor, I think. I never even finished high school.’
‘What are you then?’ She sniffed.
‘A friend. I think I know a little bit about what you’re feeling.’
She shook her head. ‘You cannot know. Nobody knows.’
Hollander’s tone stayed consistently calm. ‘You’re probably right. But we want to help you, if we can.’
Svetlana said nothing for a moment and then asked, a little bit of shame creeping into her tone, ‘Where’s the baby?’
‘Klara’s safe. She’s sleeping. Ilya has her.’
‘He is good with her.’
Hollander smiled. ‘Yeah, he is.’
‘I am not.’
Hollander paused, just for a second. ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’
Svetlana began to weep again. ‘I can’t make her stop crying.’
‘Sometimes babies are like that. It must be overwhelming for you?’
‘She cries all of the time.’
Hollander swallowed. ‘She’s comfortable letting you know what she wants. That’s good, if you think about it. Still hard to handle by yourself.’
‘He left me alone,’ she whimpered and Ilya’s heart stuttered.
‘Who? Ilya?’ She nodded and the tear-tracks on her cheeks caught the hallway light. ‘Yeah, I know. It sucks when he has to work, huh? Must have been a hard day for you.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you find time to eat today?’
‘No.’
‘Have you had any water?’
‘I do not know.’
‘Do you think you could sit up for me and have a sip of water?’ Hollander prompted softly. ‘I bet you’ve got a bit of a headache. Am I right?’
‘Yes. Hurts.’
‘You wanna sit up for me, honey?’
Slowly, so slowly Ilya wasn’t sure she was actually moving at first, Svetlana pushed herself up to lean back against her headboard.
Hollander grinned at her. ‘I was right.’
‘About what?’
‘I made a bet with myself that you had a beautiful face. And I was right.’
Svetlana snorted and rolled her eyes. ‘That is cheesy line.’
‘Made you smile though, so I’m gonna take it as a win. Here,’ Hollander reached into his backpack and pulled out a water bottle. ‘Have some water. It’s clean, I promise. No germs.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you.’
‘That’s good, that’s really good. Feeling a bit better?’
‘Bit.’
‘Do you want to try and get some sleep? It’s getting late.’
As if just realising it was true, Svetlana mumbled, ‘I’m tired.’
‘I bet. Ilya?’ Ilya jumped at the sound of his name, gentle as it was coming from Shane’s lips. ‘Do you want to help Svetlana get into some pyjamas so she can have a proper rest?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Hollander stood and reached out his arms. ‘I can take the baby. You’ll need both hands.’
Ilya slid Klara who, miraculously, did not wake up, into Shane’s strong arms. ‘Thank you.’
~
Twenty minutes later, Ilya left Svetlana sleeping in her bedroom. He left a baby monitor in with her so that he would wake if she did and decided he would just have Klara sleep in his room instead of the nursery.
He came into the living room and paused, watching Hollander as he rocked Klara gently in front of the fireplace, whispering to her in French.
When he noticed Ilya watching, he offered to hand her back but Ilya shook his head. ‘Keep her for now, if you don’t mind. She looks comfortable.’
‘I could hold her all night,’ Hollander admitted, looking adoringly down at the sleeping baby. ‘She’s gorgeous.’
‘She is. She looks like her mama,’ Ilya said sadly.
‘Svetlana will be okay,’ Hollander promised.
‘You were amazing with her.’
Hollander shrugged. ‘She just needed patience. And someone who wasn’t panicked.’
‘I did not mean to-...’
‘It’s more than understandable. You came home to Klara crying and Svetlana refusing to move. That’s fucking terrifying. You didn’t know who to look after first, I bet. You needed an extra set of hands. That's all I was today.’
‘I don’t know what to do, Hollander,’ Ilya admitted. ‘I can’t stay home and take care of them both, but I can’t leave Klara with her when she’s like that. It’s not safe. And it’s not Sveta’s fault but-...’
‘I get it. I know. You have a couple of options.’
‘Yeah?’
Hollander took a breath. ‘I think you need to get Svetlana some psychiatric help. Whether she wants it or not, unfortunately. There are in-patient programs which I think would probably be the best, at least at first.’
‘Send her away? Lock her up?’
‘It’s for her own safety and it’s not forever. In a place like that, they can keep an eye on her, make sure she’s on medication that helps her. She can see a therapist. Neither of you would have to worry that she’s going to do something regrettable to herself when she’s left alone here.’
Ilya considered it for a moment and then asked, ‘And what do I do with Klara?’
‘You could hire a nanny?’
‘I-...’ Ilya shook his head. ‘I don’t want someone else taking care of her. Not all the time. It will be bad enough if she cannot have Sveta, I don’t want her missing me too.’
‘Then take her on the road. Hire someone to watch her while you’re on the ice but otherwise have her with you. You wouldn’t be the first to do it.’
‘Yeah? You know a lot of single hockey dads?’
‘Some. But there are guys that travel with their families, you know there are. Instead of having a wife with you to watch the kids, you hire a nanny and pay for an extra hotel room. It’s not a long-term plan but it would get you through the season, by which time, hopefully, Svetlana will be feeling better.’
‘Okay. Maybe. Yes, probably. I will look into it.’
‘Great.’
‘Thank you, Hollander.’
Hollander’s lips quirked up. ‘I think we can do first names when we’re not at work. Don’t you think?’
‘You are okay with that?’
‘Yeah. I mean, I call Klara and Svetlana by their first names. Feels weird for you to be Rozanov and not Ilya here.’
‘Okay, yes. Shane.’
‘Thank you, Ilya. You must be tired, huh?’
Ilya sighed. ‘Very.’
‘Do you want me to put her down? I can get out of your hair-…’
‘Wait. Could you-… Would you mind-…’
Shane smiled softly. ‘I can stay, Ilya. My flight’s in the afternoon. I can head back to the hotel in the morning.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Do you want to go to bed?’
‘Yeah. I’m so fucking tired, Shane.’
‘I know,’ Shane said sympathetically. ‘Let’s go up.’
Shane carried Klara up the stairs with Ilya following close behind. Ilya left them just for a moment, to double-check Svetlana was still asleep, and to get Klara’s travel cot out of her closet.
‘Will she be okay in that?’ Shane wrinkled his nose at the way the cot folded out.
‘It’s just for one night. I’m not going to try and carry the big one in here, it’s too heavy.’
Shane still didn’t look convinced that the travel cot was good enough for Klara, but he didn’t protest when Ilya carefully lifted her from Shane’s arms and placed her in the cot.
‘Goodnight, my darling. Papa loves you so much. I’ll be right here all night with you.’
Klara nestled down and did not wake. Ilya breathed out a sigh of relief and looked at Shane.
‘You can sleep in the guest room if you prefer. She might wake us up in the night.’
‘I’m fine here, if you don’t mind.’
‘I do not mind. You want to shower or anything?’
‘I showered after the game, but can I borrow some toothpaste?’
‘Sure. Come with me.’
Shane had intended to brush his teeth with his finger. He hadn’t intended to stay over and hadn’t brought a change of clothes or his toothbrush. But Ilya handed him a brand-new spare toothbrush and found him a pair of his own sweatpants and an old Raiders shirt to wear.
Shane rolled his eyes at the shirt. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘I do not have any others that will fit you.’ Ilya squeezed Shane’s shoulder. ‘Maybe if you stopped being hulk I would give you a different shirt but I’m too scared you will rip it by flexing in your sleep.’
‘You’re ridiculous. I’m not that much bigger than you.’
‘I’m serious, you’ve bulked the fuck out this season, Hollander. You on a cut or something?’
Shane nodded. ‘Yeah and we got a new trainer. He’s good. Pushes me.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ Shane laughed. ‘What? Are you jealous?’
‘You are in my house, wearing my clothes, about to get into my bed with my baby sleeping next to us. I don’t think I need to be jealous, do you?’
‘Guess not.’
‘Do you want me to be jealous?’ Ilya purred.
‘Let’s go to bed, Rozanov.’
There was no need to discuss the fact that they would not be having sex with the baby in the same room. Even if she’d been a room or two away, Shane didn’t think either of them had it in them tonight. Ilya was worried sick about Svetlana and Shane was worried sick about him.
All he wanted to do was hold Ilya through the night and make sure he didn’t fall apart completely. When they got into bed, he hooked his leg over Ilya’s hip and pressed his nose into the crook of Ilya’s neck.
He was just glad that Ilya let him.