Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

F/M, M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Svetlana Vetrova, Alexei Rozanov's Daughter, Original Child Characters - Character

Additional Tags:

Adoption, Kid Fic, Dead Alexei Rozanov | Andrei Rozanov, Author doesn't know anything about canadian immigration, or international adoption, so you just gotta roll with it, Divorce, hollanov endgame don't worry, Post-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Game Changers Hockey Camp (Game Changers), Family Feels, Past Child Abuse, Physical Disability, Autistic Shane Hollander, Team as Family, Supportive Ottawa Centaurs (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-14 Updated: 2026-10-03 Words: 16,947 Chapters: 4/20

Band of Brothers

Summary

Ilya had two nephews. That’s the fact that kept running around his head.

When Ilya gets a phone call about his brother's death, he is determined to do whatever it takes to keep his family together. Even if it means for a short while, his new family has to be apart.

Notes

This was originally going to be my Big Bang story which means there's a lot of it written already which is neat, but as the Big Bang is supposed to be Hollanov-centric and this ended up being way more about Ilya and his niece, I decided it didn't fit for the BB and so I decided to develop a different story thread.
I'm nearly always working on 3-5 projects at the same time so when I'm only posting one it sometimes looks like I'm not doing very much but there's always something cooking. For those reading my other HR stuff, It's still progressing, just slowly.
I have estimated 20 chapters, but I've not finished writing so I might be a liar. Who knows. Tags will be added/expanded as the fic updates and I figure out what the frik is happening, but there will be no additional character death, or any rape/noncon storylines at any point so do not fear.
Extra thanks to Merlioske for doing me a full crash course in Russian Diminutives and other pet names, and all the lovely support I've had from the community in the Game Changers Library Discord.

A brief note on Russian, translation & formatting

This whole fic is, obviously, written in English, and as such it treats Russian as a foreign language. For Ilya + his niblings, speaking Russian to each other is fluent, and so their perception of speaking Russian to each other is written as fluent (or as close to fluent as four year olds get) English, but formatted in italics. Ilya also thinks in Russian, so any internal thoughts of his are also in italics. As this whole fic is Ilya PoV there is no untranslated Russian text

Chapter 1

Ilya had two nephews.

That’s the fact that kept running around his head. Nikolai and Denis, good Russian names. Sofia was a big sister.

He hadn’t spoken to his brother in four years, but he still felt like somehow this was a tragedy. He should have known. He should have been able to help them the way he had Sofia — build them a safety net in roubles and promises that meant they could be whoever and wherever they wanted to be when they were grown.

As he stared blankly out at the view over the backyard of the house in Ottawa, the clipped Russian on the other end of the phone continued. The spire of the Peace Tower was just visible in the distance, the dull weather washing out all the colours to leave most of the blocky skyline indistinct in shades of grey, but the green of the spire seemed to shine on its own.

“Thank you for calling. I will have to call you back.”

“Mr Rozanov, I must insist that you—”

“The answer is yes. I cannot say anything else until I have spoken to my agent. My team.” ‘My husband,’ He carefully didn’t say.

“Very well, but we will need to make arrangements within the day to prevent any… mishaps.”

“I can give you the number of Svetlana Vetrova. She is on her way to Moscow already. I will tell her to expect your call.”

“Very well. Good day Mr Rozanov.”

“Yes.” Ilya couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, to share any more pleasantries. He hung up the phone, and turned around.

Shane was looking at him, his whole body tense. He was getting better at Russian, though it wasn’t even close to fluent, and Ilya realised that he must have understood most of Ilya’s end of the call.

“What… who was that?” Shane asked, after a long period of silence.

“It was Russian Police. My brother is… he is dead.”

“Oh Ilya,” on the name, Shane rushed forward and gathered Ilya up in a hug. Ilya still felt numb, but there were spots of warmth on every surface where Shane was touching him.

“It is… that is not the only reason they call. My niece — Sofia. And her brothers…” Ilya’s voice caught on the word. His brother was gone, he was alone.

“Oh god are they okay?” Shane asked, and Ilya could kiss him. He did; a peck to Shane’s cheek, watery though it was, made both of them smile.

“Their mother is not there. Sofia’s mother is long gone, they cannot find. The boys had different mother and she was also… she is dead like my brother.”

“Oh my god. Ilya. What’s happening to them? Where are they?”

“They are at police station in Moscow. Sveta is already flying home, is good timing, so I must text her now to go and get them. But then… I don’t know. I am responsible for them now. I am named as next person for them to go to. They do not have anyone else in Russia. I don’t know… I can’t leave them there.”

“Of course you can’t. So they’re coming here? How old are the boys? They can have a room each if they want but then there’s nowhere for guests so I guess we’ll have to re-purpose the tape room into a spare, that probably makes the most sense, and—” Ilya cut his husband off with a kiss so aggressive that it forced Shane to take a step backward to keep his balance.

“I love you,” Ilya said when they eventually broke the kiss. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know if you were okay.”

“We take care of your family your family first, that’s the priority.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ilya took a deep breath. “First I must call Coach Wiebe. Then Farah.”

“I’ll call my mom, she’ll also want to help. Both of my parents will. She’ll probably know how to get a family lawyer as well.” Shane was talking on top of Ilya, and he could barely keep up.

“Yes, and then—” Ilya’s stomach sank at the sheer volume of things that he was sure should be done, but having no idea where to start with any of them. As though reading his mind, Shane held up his hand and cupped Ilya’s cheek, bringing his attention back down to earth.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll have help, we’ll find someone that knows what we have to do. Just focus on getting Svetlana there first.”

“Right, yes. Sveta. Then Coach. Then Farah.”

“Farah then coach. She’ll know if there’s anything we have to worry about when we talk to the club officially.”

“Yes, right. Fuck.” Ilya leaned into Shane for another long moment then sighed and stepped backward. “Let’s call people.”

“They’re here. We’re at the hotel now.”

“Thank you so much, Sveta. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, say that to the fact that I have a diaper bag. I thought three year-olds were supposed to be done with this?”

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never had a three year old either.”

“Well, soon it’ll be your problem.” Svetlana’s voice was quiet, “Sofia is good with them. I think she’s maybe had to do too much already.”

“Is she up? Can I talk with her?” There was a rustling on the other end of the line.

“Camera on, Ilyusha,” came the echoing sound of Svetlana on speakerphone, so Ilya pulled the phone away from his ear and turned his own camera on. It was late in the evening in Moscow, but the bright sunshine of the July afternoon poured in to the living room of the Cottage. Shane was washing up after their lunch, and Ilya beckoned him over while Svetlana moved around the room.

For a moment, the camera rested on the tiny figures of the boys on the bed. Twins, both of them with the same blond hair that Ilya knew he’d inherited from his mother, but the curls were much looser than his. One was splayed out like he was trying to take up as much space as possible, while the other was curled up with his hands tucked beneath his chin. It was too dark to see how different they looked from one another, and Ilya was struck by a moment of grief that this was the first he’d seen them and it was all he knew.

The camera continued to move, and in the uncomfortable hotel chair sat curled up a teenage girl, her face lit more by the phone in her hand than the light of the room itself.

“Sonya, your uncle Ilya is on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?” Svetlana’s voice came from behind the camera.

“No,” came the firm reply

“Sonyechka, you’re going to his house. In Canada. Don’t you want to see where you’re going to be staying?”

“Don’t care.” Her face didn’t come up from the phone, but her brow furrowed.

“Please. Just say hello. Uncle Ilya is on the camera with Uncle Shane and they both want to see you. They want to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m doing bad. What do they think? And now they’re taking me away to Canada. Canada sucks.”

“Canada doesn’t suck.” Ilya said, and Sofia’s head twitched upwards before she seemed to remember herself and kept looking down. “There’s still hockey here. And, uh…” Ilya looked at Shane, who was clearly only very vaguely following with his poor Russian. He’d been learning on-and-off for about a year, and last night had downloaded three different language apps to his phone to pick up more. “What is good to do in Canada? What is fun for teenage girl?”

“Ilya I have never been a teenage girl. Ask my mother. Or Svetlana. Literally anyone but me.”

“Fuck.”

“That is rude word. I know English, you cannot have secrets.” Sofia was looking at the phone, directly into the camera, and Ilya got his first proper look at her since his father’s funeral.

She’d grown. Of course she’d grown; she’d been eight last he saw, but it still struck him. She was already starting to look like a young woman and not a child, but her face still had a roundness to it. Her hair was dark — Ilya was fairly sure like her mother’s, though he had very hazy memories of Alexei’s wife. Ex-wife. Fuck.

“Of course you speak English, you are a smart lady,” Ilya said, in English, and though it was blatant flattery he still saw that she smiled a little. He switched back to Russian. “You will be better than me and talk behind my back with Shane and make fun of me.” The mention of Shane’s name made her scowl again, and Ilya cast around for a different thing to say. “You will fit in here — lots of people speak two languages, but you will be able to say that Russian is harder than French so you’re actually smarter than them.”

“I bet I could learn French. It even has the same alphabet and everything. How hard could it be?”

“I don’t know any French,” —except the odd swear word that Shane offered while in bed but that was definitely not suitable for Sofia— “so you will have to teach me. Then you will be better at English and French and all I will have is hockey.”

“You can keep hockey. It’s just annoying boys smacking into each other on ice skates.”

“Hey, all my friends are annoying boys who smack into each other on skates. Some even get paid to do it.”

“Whatever. Why would anyone spend extra time in a cold place when they live in a cold place?”

“Well, it also gets hotter here in the summer than in Moscow. We have a house by the lake where we hang out in the summer. That’s where I am now.”

“You do?” Sofia reached out and took the phone from Svetlana, switching the camera around so that it was in selfie mode, and at last it felt to Ilya that they were speaking face to face. It was the first that Sofia had shown any interest in Ilya, so he ran with it.

“Yes. Three bedrooms and a deck where we eat food outside and there’s a dock that lets you dive into the lake. I swim here a lot when we visit. There’s no boat here, but some of the neighbours have boats and do fishing and other boring boat things.” God he needed to get a grip, next he’d sound just like Shane and start talking about the fucking well.

“Could you get a boat? Do you need special permission to drive one? I want to drive a boat.”

“First I think maybe I should learn to drive a boat. But then maybe I could teach you.” Ilya looked at Shane and wondered exactly how he was going to explain to his husband that he was maybe bribing his niece to like him with a boat. That they didn’t have.

“Show me the lake. I gotta pick what kind of boat I get.” Sofia looked so engaged and almost excited that Ilya couldn’t bear to say no.

“Shane knows the cottage better. He had it built especially for him. Do you want him to show you?”

“No. You, uncle Ilya.”

“Okay, but there’s plenty I don’t know.”

And so Ilya found himself giving a short tour of the house and a much longer tour of the small garden and dock. He sat on the end of the boards with his back to the lake, letting Sofia look at the view while he looked at her face. There really was so little of Alexei and his side of the family in her features, but she’d loosened up enough that Ilya felt like he was actually meeting her for the first time.

By the time Sofia had worn herself out, it was nearly midnight in Moscow. Shane had come out to stand on the dock with a ginger ale in each hand, and listened to Ilya wrap up the conversation with Svetlana.

“The flights are booked for Wednesday. I booked extra baggage so you can go to the house and pick up their things and bring as much as possible with you.” Ilya said, taking the drink from Shane and patting the dock next to where he was sitting.

“You are the only asshole I would willingly take a nine hour flight with toddlers for, you know that right?”

“I do, and I’m sorry. I wish I could do it but—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re okay. Just make sure you’ve got something good for me to drink when I land.”

“Best Russian vodka that Canada has to offer, I promise.”

“Good.” Svetlana’s voice softened. “And, look, I was there the last time you talked to your brother. I know how you left it. I’m sorry. He was an ass, but he was your brother. I’m sorry you never got the opportunity to change anything.”

Shane leaned up against Ilya and he revelled in the warmth that his husband’s body lent him. It wasn’t the warmest day of the summer, and the difference between the slight chill in the air and Shane was undeniably pleasant.

“I think perhaps I am still doing the most important part. I had promised I would take care of my niece. I will take care of my nephews too. Nothing Alexei could do would ever have changed me wanting to do these things.”

“I know Ilyusha. You’re a good man.” Svetlana’s voice was gentle in the dark of her hotel room.

“I think you should also sleep now. Will be a long day for you and small children.”

“Yeah, I’m off. Look after him, Shane.”

“I will.” Shane offered, and then she was gone.

Ilya put down his drink and phone and wrapped both arms around Shane, burying his face in his husband’s shoulder.

“I don’t know if she likes me. I don’t know what she wants.”

“She’s scared, Ilya. Her parents are gone and from what Svetlana has said, she’s been hurt by your brother too. It sounds… really tough.”

Ilya just nodded into the crook of Shane’s neck, not ready to talk about anything.

“I’ve asked Gérard Morgan to join us as he’s got more experience in immigration law, and we don’t want this to cause you issues down the road with your citizenship.” The family lawyer that Yuna had recommended, Aileen Thomas, sat across from them in the cavernous conference room. It was early on a Tuesday morning, barely three days since Ilya had heard the news about his brother, but it all still felt too big.

“Does it affect his citizenship?” Shane asked.

“It probably will,” Gérard said, leaning forward with a file in his hands. “Previously, you’d applied based on your employment and as a spouse, but you had no dependents. Now, however, you potentially have three. If you continue with the application as-is, you will have to manage visas for your niece and nephew entirely separately, and they’ll only be permitted temporary stay—essentially tourist visas. If you want to apply for residency, or ultimately citizenship, as a family unit and you do so within the next three years, it could be argued that your initial citizenship application was fraudulent. Of course you had no way of knowing when you began this process that you would have dependants, but knowing that now it will be considered at the final stages.”

“To add to the complication,” Aileen said, not letting either Ilya or Shane breathe, “we have to consider the Russian government’s willingness to allow external adoption by an openly gay man.”

“They would… what? What would they do?” Ilya knew his hand was crushing Shane’s but he couldn’t bring himself to let go or even loosen his grip.

“We don’t know for sure. We hope that they are permitted to leave with Miss Vetrova as you have organised without issue as she is still a family friend and known to the Russian government as a citizen. However, at the point where you officially took guardianship there could be problems, and we would definitely expect push-back at the point where we started discussing things like international adoption.”

“So what? I cannot have them because I am gay and I cannot become citizen because I have, what was word? Dependents. And I cannot leave them to go fuck knows where in Russia when I am their only family. So what is solution?” Ilya knew he was falling back into poor habits with his English, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

“We have discussed this, briefly, and looked at all the options. We believe that some… fiction might be required.” Aileen looked toward Gérard as though for support, and the other lawyer took over.

“To be clear, this option will definitely delay your citizenship. But hopefully it will succeed in the most urgent goal of getting your niece and nephews into the country and under your guardianship,” he stated, confidently.

“Well? What is it?” Ilya was practically vibrating. He didn’t like how carefully they were speaking.

“We believe that it would be in the best interest for you to, in the short term, marry Miss Vetrova.”

Wh—

What?

“What?” Shane managed, saying it for both of them. “But he’s already married. To me. He can’t… how does this work?”

“A simple, no fault divorce first, and only then the marriage to Miss Vetrova—never both at once. You can maintain joint ownership of any assets and finances under alternative legal partnership contracts so nothing about your lifestyle or living situation has to change. All the Russian government will be looking at is whether you’re financially able to support three children, which obviously will be no issue, and whether you’re in a heterosexual marriage.”

“And when they ask about the previous marriage?” Shane asked.

Ilya was trying to remember how to breathe.

“Administrative error. Explained as an issue with the setup of the Irina Foundation. We have spoken with a Russia specialist and there are several avenues we can take,” Gérard said.

“Bribe.” Ilya wasn’t sure how he managed to speak. “You mean we bribe them to not care. That is what is meant by ‘Administrative Error’.”

“Legally we cannot advise you to offer a bribe to a foreign official.” Gérard said slowly, but he nodded as he said it. “But we will be liaising closely with an expert within the Russian administration to get this sorted.”

“So what, I marry Sveta and then we stay married for, what, six months? A year?”

“Until the final transfer of guardianship, which could take as little as six weeks if the will is in order and you and Miss Vetrova are approved. Of course, if you elect to pursue full adoption it will be much faster if you are still a Russian citizen married to a Russian citizen, and that process could take up to a year.”

“A year. That’s the worst case, yes?” Shane said, and Ilya was almost overcome by the need to kiss this man. God, they hadn’t even really talked about this and Shane was already assuming they’d adopt these kids. What if they didn’t even want it?

“Yes,” Gérard said, “and then Mr Rozanov and Miss Vetrova can similarly file for divorce where Ilya retains full custody, and you can re-marry. At that point you would have to begin the citizenship application from scratch, but this time as a family which would mean Ilya and all three children would become citizens together. Or at least, close to it. As your dependants during your citizenship application their own applications would be tied to yours and as we know your case remains strong, even with this complication, it should be relatively smooth.”

Complication. Ilya felt like his life right now was one big complication and it hurt his head and his heart.

“Ilya? Love?” Ilya didn’t even realise he’d put his head in his hands until Shane called to him. “Can we have the room a minute? Thank you so much for your time, both of you.”

“Any time Mr Hollander, Mr Rozanov.” Ilya was aware of the two professionals sharing pleasantries with Shane but he couldn’t bring himself to move to do the same. When he finally heard the door close behind them, Shane draped himself over his husband and the two of them simply held each other for more minutes than Ilya thought was probably reasonable in a semi-public office.

“Ilya, I love you and I know this is tough but I just… I’m freaking the fuck out right now I need you to check back in. Please. I don’t… I can’t… Please.”

“I know. I know. I am trying. But I… I cannot have both. I cannot be married to you and keep my family safe.” Ilya lifted his head and looked into Shane’s eyes.

“I am not going anywhere. No piece of paper can change that. Even if it takes us years, I’ll still be here. We’re in it together.” Shane paused, and looked at the floor. “Aren’t we?”

“Yes, Shane, Yes. moy lubimii. Holy Shit, Hollander yes.” Ilya grabbed Shane in a hug and they buried their faces in each other’s shoulders, despite the awkward angle as they sat beside each other. “I do I… is this… this is what you want, yes?”

“Ilya, you know that I would do this with you regardless. Alright, this might not be exactly the timeline that I thought we’d be having kids or whatever, but… I did want it. With you. In the future.”

“The future is okay being now?” Ilya huffed at his English. “I mean, you’re okay that we do this now? That it’s soon? I want to do this, I want to do this so much, but you must tell me now if it will be hard for you.”

“Of course it’s going to be hard, Ilya.” Shane smiled and pecked him on the nose. “But I still want to do it. The alternative is, what, that we break up for real and I pretend it doesn’t kill me until I decide I’m ready to be a parent?”

“Not just the… straight away part. They talk about adoption. Not just guardianship. That’s… that’s a big thing.”

“Well, is it what you want?” Shane’s eyes were so big and sad and Ilya found the floodgates opening.

“I don’t know what I want. I know I want to help, I know I want to make sure my niece and nephews are safe. I know that I do not know them at all. Sofia is teenager, she’s a person with personality and feelings and opinions. And the boys, they are only three but they will miss their parents. They are old enough that they will remember Russia and their parents.”

“Okay, so we don’t have to decide right now. We get guardianship first — make sure we can keep them safe. Everything else happens after that.” Shane moved his hands to grip Ilya’s, bringing them to his lips to kiss them. The tenderness in the gesture made Ilya’s eyes fill with tears again.

“You’re right. Fuck you’re right. But is still a lot. Maybe too much.”

“I know. I know love.”

“Okay,” Ilya sniffed and wiped his face, trying to return to presentable.

“Svetlana will be calling soon with the information about the container. We don’t have to talk to her about this on the phone, we can do it in person.” Shane said, gently. “You can talk to Sofia and Nikolai and Denis and tell them you’re excited to see them. It’ll be hard, but they’ll know you’re here. And I’m going to be right beside you the whole time. You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.”

Ilya took a deep, shuddering breath while Shane was talking, and let it out with a sharp exhale as Shane made him laugh at the end.

“The Ottawa Camp starts next week, too. So all our friends are going to be in town.” Shane started smoothing down the fabric of Ilya’s sweater where it lay against his back, the soft motions mirroring those that Ilya had offered Shane so many times when Shane was the one having to be calmed. “Maybe Sofia will want to meet kids her own age that are here. Maybe she will be more impressed by you when she sees how much they all adore you.”

“And you. You are also good. Especially with older kids.” Ilya said, his voice rough but at least he was starting to feel more under control.

“See, we have plenty of practice with teenagers. And Hayden and Jackie can tell us everything we need to know about small boys. They probably still have a load of Arthur’s stuff that they want to get rid of. You can buy them matching kiddie Centaurs jerseys and my parents will bring them to games.” Ilya laughed at Shane, and the two of them crashed together in a fierce hug.

Chapter 2

Chapter Notes

Big sad eyes in my comments or discord DMs will work every time to make me post a chapter

The two hours of driving to get to the airport had seemed to take no time at all, and then standing at arrivals for forty minutes felt like it took years. They’d had a text from Svetlana that they’d made it through border control just fine when they transferred at Pearson, so there should be very little delay now that they were coming through on a domestic flight.

“Can you see which carousel the bags are supposed to be on?” Shane asked.

“Doesn’t say.” Ilya replied, tersely. His eyes were fixed on the flight status board while Shane kept checking his phone for updates on the airport website just in case they were different.

Finally, the blank space under ‘baggage’ was filled in by a number two, and Shane and Ilya practically spoke on top of each other as both sources of information updated together.

“Do you want to wait here by the gate, or go and look for the bags?—”

“There’s the carousel, but bags will still take a minute to come we have time—”

“I have the picture Svetlana took so that we could pick them up—”

“No, Shane, I want to be here.” Ilya finally got through. “I want to see them come through. Nobody will steal bags.”

“Alright, we’ll wait.”

It barely took another two minutes for the security gate to open and for passengers to start spilling through, and Ilya craned his neck to see where Svetlana might be. When he finally caught sight of her—her hair for the first time ever not perfectly managed—he barely resisted the temptation to run forward and grab hold of the entourage.

Svetlana was carrying one of the boys, and Sofia the other. He had no clue how he was supposed to tell the twins apart, but the two girls looked incredibly frazzled, as both boys were crying. Svetlana’s charge was screaming at the top of his lungs and trying desperately to get out of her hold, while the boy in Sofia’s arms was bawling into her shoulder. Ilya caught the moment when Svetlana saw him and her shoulders relaxed in relief as she ran forward to pass him off.

“Take Denis, he hates me, and I desperately need to go to the bathroom,” she said, barely waiting for Ilya to have taken all the boy’s weight before dashing off. She didn’t even say hello to Shane.

“Hello Deniska. I’m your uncle Ilya. Hush now, none of that.” Denis clearly did not give a shit about Ilya, and if anything was even more incensed that he was being manhandled by a complete stranger, and between screams he kept twisting round to look at Ilya’s face, as though checking how far he could push. Ilya tried desperately to hold onto him without hurting him with his strength.

He wasn’t suffering long before Sofia came over, sighing heavily, and offered her sarcastic opinion.

“Just put him down, he’s mad because he had to sit for so long on the plane. He needs a run around.”

“I’m not going to put him down in an airport there’s no telling where he will end up.” Ilya said in reply.

“Fine, but he’s gonna scream until he gets to move. He fucking hates it.”

Ilya looked up at Shane, who was standing awkwardly back a few feet and watching. He wasn’t sure if the pure terror at being responsible for these tiny humans was clear on his face, but Shane stepped forward to Sofia.

“Hey, uh, I’m Shane. Do you want me to take him?” he asked, holding his hands out toward Nikolai.

“No, he is fine,” Sofia said, looking offended. “Don’t need your help.”

“Oh, uh. Okay.” Shane looked down at his shoes, and Ilya frowned. This probably wasn’t the best place to try and sort out whatever that was—he just wanted to get everyone into the car and back to the house so they could rest. The kids had left Moscow early this morning, by Ottawa reckoning, but they were going to all be feeling like it was nearly time for bed now. Ilya remembered how much the jet-lag made him feel out of sorts for days after he landed, even if he managed to sleep on the flight. He strongly suspected nobody had gotten any sleep on the flight.

“Okay, we will go and look for bags, then we go straight home.” Ilya tried, and failed, to get a better grip on Denis, and sidled up to Sofia, nudging her with his shoulder. “Hey, it’s good to see you. Was your flight okay?“

“I guess,” came the unenthusiastic response, and Sofia just started walking toward the baggage carousels, not even looking at the board to see where she was heading. Nikolai’s crying had calmed down, but he still hadn’t pulled his head out from Sofia’s shoulder, and she didn’t seem inclined to put him down.

Svetlana rejoined them when they’d picked up three of the five bags that the group had packed. Ilya was starting to feel almost like they were going to get away unscathed, when he noticed the tell-tale hover of someone who had recognised him.

“Hey, uh. Are you Ilya Rozanov? The Centaurs captain?” It was a pair of younger boys, probably about ten, and their parents standing a few paces behind.

“Hello, yes,” Ilya said, trying his hardest to be both polite and indicate that he absolutely did not have the time or brain-space to talk to fans right now.

“Oh my god, so you must be Shane Hollander.” the other boy turned to Shane, who had plastered on his PR face.

“Hi boys, are you fans?” Shane asked.

“Yeah, yeah! Please, Mr Hollander, can we get a picture? With both of you?”

Ilya looked at Shane helplessly, still fighting to hold on to Denis.

“How about I take a picture with you two, and I’ll see if you guys can come by the rink when training camp starts up in September, alright?” Shane suggested, staring at the parents with a note of challenge in his eyes. Fuck, Ilya loved him. Shane was all politeness most of the time, but he knew that Ilya was not going to handle being Captain Person right now.

He was barely holding on to being Person.

The pictures were taken and the children mollified by the time the last of the bags came through on the belt. Svetlana and Shane grabbed two apiece, while Ilya continued to wrestle with Denis in one hand and wheeling a case with the other.

They headed out of the terminal building, but as soon as they stepped outside Denis seemed to get a second wind, and pulled himself free of Ilya’s hold.

“Denya, no! Come back!” Ilya shouted, and took off after him, dropping the bag. He had to weave between a few groups of people that Denis had simply barrelled through, but he caught up relatively quickly.

Fuck, running at full pelt it still took too long to catch up to him, what if they’d been near a road or he’d run into a river or something? Fuck, he could have died less than twenty minutes after they’d met. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Ilya grabbed Denis roughly on the arm and found himself shouting.

“Denya, no. You can’t do that. Stay with us.” Ilya was shaking he was so scared, and he knew the shaking was extending into the hand where he was holding Denis. His nephew cowered, and Ilya suddenly felt like he was deflating.

“Fuck, Deniska, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouted. I was just scared that you would be hurt. You’re okay. You’re fine.” Ilya edged forward to try and hold him again, and after a moment of hesitation Denis grabbed hold of Ilya’s t-shirt in return. Not quite actually holding on to his uncle, but still closer. Ilya stayed where he was, crouched as close to his nephew’s height as he could fold himself, and simply waited.

Fuck, why did he think he could do this? Sofia hated him, Denis tried to run away, and Nikolai wanted nothing to do with anyone that wasn’t his sister.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been crouched on the sidewalk with Denis before he felt the hand on his shoulder. He felt at least some of the tension bleed out when he recognised Shane. Not another fan, just Shane.

“The others are by the car, they’re just wrestling the car seats into place so that Sofia can sit in the middle. You and Svetlana will have to decide who rides shotgun, but I think she’s about to lose her mind after being cooped up on aeroplanes so long, so you’ll have a fight.” Shane didn’t even look at Denis, letting the boy continue to calm down without input.

“It’s okay, I will sit in the back. All the bags fit?”

“Just about. Good thing we can put things in the foot-well of the back seats or we’d have to send you home on the bus.” The more Ilya and Shane talked, voices low and soothing, even with Denis almost certainly not understanding a word, the more he seemed to calm down, his grip on Ilya’s shirt getting tighter and his body shifting closer by millimetres.

“Shane, I think I can get an uber. Maybe even buy a whole new car just for me to get home.”

Shane laughed, and then crouched down to be at the same level as his husband and new charge. Denis turned his head away from Shane, but toward Ilya, and Ilya couldn’t help but smile that Denis was turning to him, even if it was just because he was there.

“Hello Denis. I am Uncle Shane. Do you want to come in the car?” Ilya’s heart nearly burst at the sound of Shane’s careful Russian.

“No.” The first actual word that wasn’t screamed was said quietly. Shane wasn’t deterred.

“My house has a football. My house has a hockey rink.” Of course Shane learned the Russian for hockey rink. “My house has a big TV. I swim in the lake, and I play video games.” At that last sentence, Denis looked up at Ilya, his eyes wide.

“Can I go swimming?” his voice was still small, but there was undeniable excitement.

“Yes, when we find you something to wear in the lake. And only if you go with an adult. I don’t want you to get eaten by the wolf bird. It lives in the lake and it howls like a wolf.” Ilya smiled, and Denis gasped, his eyes shining.

“Wolf! I want a wolf friend!”

“Ah, well our house also has a dog. She is called Anya.”

“WOLF!”

“Not a wolf, little rabbit. A dog. Do you want to meet our dog?”

“Yes. Please.” Denis’ voice was small, but he’d stopped pulling against Ilya’s hold. Ilya sighed in relief, and went to pick Denis up, but the boy pouted and whined. Sensing another fight, Ilya put his hand carefully into Denis’, replacing the fabric of his shirt with a palm that Denis could barely get his fingers around, and stood.

“We’re going to walk to the car now and you will sit next to your sister. And then we will have a long drive—two hours—but we will stop for sandwiches on the way because it’s nearly time for lunch and I’m hungry.” Ilya kept up a patter of conversation as they walked, determined to maintain the peace, and he felt Shane’s hand on the small of his back while they walked.

Nobody else bothered them as they moved through the carpark, despite several looks and more than a few phones being pointed at them. Ilya was pretty sure he’d be responsible for a homicide if anyone actually approached him right now—and when they got to the car he ended up staring down a small child that was watching them. Soon, he was folding himself into the back seat of the car and they were on their way home.

The Cottage was a mistake.

It had seemed like such a great idea before they started. A few days of separation to get to know each other before they had to head back into the centre of town and get ready for the Camp, but they hadn’t considered just how much the Cottage was not designed for children.

They had to lock all the doors to stop Denis from running straight into the lake. Open stairs everywhere, which Denis took two at a time with the kind of wild abandon that Shane and Ilya used to check on the ice, glancing back each time to see who was watching. Nikolai took them one at a time, right hand clamped to the rail, bringing his left foot up to meet the right on every step, and Sofia hovered a step below him with her hands out until Ilya noticed, and found that he didn’t like how practised it looked. And Sofia had realised, after about twenty minutes, that Ilya and Shane were far too distracted trying to stop the boys killing themselves to notice her slipping off into the surrounding woods.

Ilya and Shane had finally convinced both boys to fall asleep—in echo of the way Ilya had seen them on the call with Svetlana they shared the double bed in the second bedroom, though this time with Anya at the foot of the bed—when Ilya noticed.

“Shane, where is Sofia?” he asked, his head poking out of the big glass doors that led to the outside. He was sure he’d locked this.

“Is she sleeping? Svetlana's in there,” Shane gestured to the bedroom.

“No, Sveta is hogging all the blankets.”

“Trophy room? The rink?”

“Nyet, no. She is nowhere. Shane, where does the loop go if we don’t take the loop?” Ilya gestured at the slight gap in the fence where a dirt path was worn in the foliage for them to take Anya on her walk, and the looping path was a favourite for both of them to run around in the mornings.

“I think the second path stops by the neighbour’s house. Carol and Henry. But they’re nearly ten-k out, so it’s a long hike.”

“Not too long for Sofia.” Ilya rushed through the house to grab a sweatshirt and some boots. Sofia was probably warm enough, but he didn’t want to be caught unawares. “I think she has gone down path. I don’t know where else. Would she fall in the lake? Would she drown? I will run around the loop and see. I have phone, call if she comes back.” Ilya’s mind was running a mile a minute, and he had a brief thought that he should warm up before he sprinted around the lake, but what was the point of being a pro athlete like this if he couldn’t run after a kid? Fuck, twice in one day.

He started down the path at a fast jog, knowing that he’d need the stamina if she’d taken the second path rather than the loop. He couldn’t remember how long it had been. Maybe half an hour? How far could she get in that time? It was a half hour run for the two of them to do the loop, just over six kilometres in total, so it would be faster to check that first, but he was hoping that he’d catch up with her before the fork in the road.

No luck, he arrived at the fork and there was still no sign of Sofia. Ten more minutes had passed. He looked down both paths—the wider one was the loop, and the path that connected them to their neighbours was more overgrown. It was rare they went that way as they’d have to run back on the road, or double back on themselves which wasn’t as interesting—but Ilya trusted his gut and took the narrower one.

He’d jogged about two minutes up the path when he saw the red-brown of Sofia’s sweater. He thought for a moment about whether he should call out or if that would make her run, but clearly she’d heard his heavy footfalls and deep, controlled breathing coming up behind and was braced for… something. She was standing perfectly still, her head bowed, and Ilya recognised the pose perfectly. Fuck, he still did that sometimes, when his father’s voice got into his head.

“Sonya! I was worried you would get lost. It is a long way to the road from here. And it is cold in the evenings. You will miss dinner.” Sofia shuffled her feet, not looking up. Ilya could almost believe she was swaying on her feet—the exhaustion of the day catching up. When he was finally in front of her, he crouched down to try and get in her eye line. She didn’t turn away, but she didn’t look at his face either.

“Sofia. Are you alright? Are you cold?” Sofia shook her head, and Ilya realised he didn’t know which question she was answering. Maybe both. “Okay. I’m just glad you’re not lost in the woods.”

“I didn’t want to be found. I just need to be alone,”

“I know the house is maybe not good for being alone. But your brothers are sleeping and so is Sveta, so maybe you can stay in the living room alone? Watch some TV? I know everything is different and you don’t like it right now but you can’t just… wander off. I need to know you’re safe. When you know where you’re going better maybe you can go out alone, but you could get lost in the trees or end up on the road where a stranger picks you up or anything could happen.”

“Not like you’d care,” Sofia said under her breath. Ilya took a deep breath through his nose, and tried to stay calm.

“Of course I care, Sonya. I just need you to come home so that we can make sure you’re safe.”

Sofia glared at Ilya, and he tried not to glare back, his instincts from the ice probably not suitable for this, but Sofia seemed to deflate.

“Okay. But I still want a boat.”

“Maybe.” Ilya felt like the conversation about the boat had happened weeks ago, but it had only been four days. Apparently Sofia was determined. “Come on. Do you want to go on my back?” Ilya turned around and crouched down, offering a piggy-back. Sofia paused for a moment, clearly uncertain, but the exhaustion that he could see on her face clearly won and she wrapped her hands around his shoulders. Ilya wrapped his hands under her knees and stood.

It took another thirty minutes to get back to the cottage, Ilya’s long strides not quite making up for the fact that he was trying to move smoothly and carry forty kilos of girl. He’d felt Sofia’s body go heavy and boneless after about five minutes of walking, her tiredness finally overcoming her wariness, and Ilya didn’t want to disturb her. He’d probably got more sleep than any of the kids last night, but not much, and he didn’t want to have to fight to get her back if at all possible.

When he returned to the house he realised that he’d not called Shane to tell him that he’d found her, and he caught his husband clearly preparing to jump in the lake, his eyes frantic.

“Ilya! Oh my god, you found her. Fuck, is she alright?”

“She’s fine. On the path to the road, so a long way out, but I caught up. I don’t think she was thinking about it very hard.” Ilya approached Shane gently. They pressed their heads together for a moment, the sound of the wind over the lake and through the trees the only noise between them. Ilya breathed into the space between them, his shoulders settling from their tense hunch, and Sofia slipped a little in his grasp.

With a start, Sofia woke at the change in movement.

“Put me down. You said I could watch TV and you didn’t give me the WiFi yet and I need to call my friends.”

“Okay, let’s go. And don’t leave, please. We will show you places that are good to go tomorrow, but today please stay home.”

Sofia huffed. “Fine, but WiFi first.”

Ilya sighed and went to his own phone to share the WiFi code, and she skipped off to sit on the couch, leaving Ilya and Shane in the yard staring through the glass at her.

“I think we should go to the house tomorrow. This place is not suitable for kids.”

“Da. And I think maybe we need more things that are interesting for teenagers.”

“The boys are definitely gonna fall in the lake and drown if we stay. We only got them to lie down today because they didn’t sleep on the plane.” Shane looked out at the pier with a haunted look. Ilya could see the panic growing in his husband’s eyes.

“Yes. Internet is better in Ottawa too, for Sofia. I think maybe we already messed this up.” Ilya laughed self deprecatingly, and Shane brought his hand up to cup Ilya’s face, his own eyes filled with un-shed tears.

“Yeah, maybe we didn’t get it all the way right. But they’re here which is better than being in Russia. So we’re ahead a little, at least.”

“Sure.” Ilya pressed a kiss to Shane’s forehead and grabbed his hand, both of them making their way back into the house

The move from the Cottage to their regular house in Ottawa was a little smoother than the one back from the airport. Some decent sleep—almost twelve hours for all the kids, and not much less for the adults—made a world of difference, and this time they had Anya sitting on Sofia’s lap for the journey, all three kids distracted and delighted by their new pet.

Anya was surprisingly chill with the kids. It probably helped that she was sitting with her nose on Denis’ knee where she could keep an eye on his busy and grabby hands, while Nikolai sat more quietly, his left hand tucked inside his right in his lap, as it usually was. Ilya was watching them—this time he got to be in the front next to his husband, while Svetlana drove another car—and especially keeping an eye out for Anya, but they all seemed distracted.

Sofia’s face had evened out to being more relaxed. The scowl that had been on her face the whole of the previous day was finally gone, and Ilya liked to think that maybe she was warming to being here in Canada. She was sad—he recognised the sadness in her eyes that he’d held at the same age, with the same ever-present crease in her brow where she tried to hide it—but that was still to be expected. He hated that he didn’t really know what her relationship with his brother had been like, how she really felt when it came to missing her mother, but he knew plenty about having a complicated relationship with your parents.

He was more surprised that the boys didn’t seem to be missing their mother. Or Alexei. They both maintained an awareness of where Sofia was that was almost spooky—after their nap yesterday they’d come out of the bedroom, hand in hand, Nikolai stumbling and catching himself on the doorframe with his right hand as they both shook off their sleepiness, and they curled up beside Sofia on the couch where she put on reruns of some American cartoons and she talked to them in a soft voice. Ilya had felt like he was intruding when he roused all three of them to have dinner, and then they’d stayed close—Sofia cutting up their food and making sure they ate all their vegetables in much the same way that he remembered his own mother doing.

When they finally arrived at their house in town—Shane still called it ‘Ilya’s house’ despite it having been where they spent all of the last season together—Yuna and David were there, waiting.

“Hello boys!” David called, and Shane’s face broke into a smile. Ilya realised he hadn’t seen Shane smile like that since they’d set off for the airport yesterday.

“Dad! Mom! You didn’t have to come,” Shane called out to them as he got out of the car.

“Oh well, when you said you were coming in to town we thought that it might be helpful for us to be here and get you guys settled in.” Yuna was striding forward, and she opened the door of the car where Nikolai was sitting. “Hello. Privyet.”

Ilya cringed quietly at Yuna’s pronunciation. Shane’s Russian at least had the benefit of Ilya’s corrections, but he was still pleased that Yuna was trying. Nikolai looked up at Yuna with his face creased up in confusion, but he didn’t really react until Yuna leaned over to unbuckle him, at which point he cried out.

“No not you. I want Sonya,” said Nikolai. Ilya stepped around the door to stand by Yuna, and held out his hand for her to step back a moment while he talked to them.

“This is Grandma Yuna. And over there is Grandpa David,” Ilya explained to both of the boys. “They’re here to help you fix your bedrooms with all the things you need.” Ilya paused to see how they reacted. Nikolai still seemed uncertain, so he continued. “These are Shane’s parents, and while I have lived in Canada they’ve been as nice to me like they were my parents too, so I love them very much. I think you’ll like them too. Can we go inside and say hello properly?” Nikolai still looked sceptical, but Anya had clearly had enough of being good and happily jumped up—somehow turning herself around and launching at Yuna in excitement. She was stopped by the harness that attached her to the seat, but she still wanted desperately to see Yuna.

Ilya liked how much Anya liked his mother in law. The fact that it was definitely based on how much of a softie she was at dispensing treats only tempered his opinion slightly.

“Anya! Baby!” Yuna grabbed the handle on her harness and unclipped her from the seat. Anya gleefully leapt into Yuna’s arms and started licking at her chin, Yuna laughing the whole time.

“Anya is your dog?” Sofia asked, and Ilya scowled.

“No. Anya is my dog. My dog.” He reiterated in Russian.”Yuna just bribes her for extra love,” Ilya scratched at the back of Anya’s head and was gratified that she did at least lean into the sensation, even if she was still in Yuna’s arms.

Sofia seemed to be swayed by Anya’s attention to Yuna more than Ilya’s reassurances, and so she finished unbuckling both her brothers, leading them out of the car. As had become her habit, she kept hold of Nikolai’s hand when they walked inside, steering both boys past Yuna to stand patiently by the closed front door. David approached and reached over Sofia’s head to open it, and she flinched slightly. As soon as the door was open, she pulled them both inside.

“Do they know where they’re going?” Yuna asked.

“Nope,” Ilya replied, and sighed. “Maybe this was too much.”

“This was always going to be hard, Ilya. You don’t really know them.” Yuna smiled to herself. “When Shane was this age he was so stubborn, and he was just learning that he could do all kinds of things independently from us. A terrible mix, even for two parents who’d known him all his life. Finding it hard is alright.” Yuna let Anya go free where she was trying to get down, and watched as she darted inside, following David who was carrying two of the bags. Shane followed with two more, and so Ilya and Yuna stood in their driveway for a moment, alone.

“How are you doing, Ilya?”

“Okay. I don’t know.”

“It would be normal for you to feel complicated about your brother.”

“I know. I feel like I have not had time to feel about him yet. I don’t feel good, but maybe I should feel more bad.”

“When’s your next appointment with Galina?” Yuna asked, as though she didn’t half-memorise their shared calendar.

“End of next week. I had call with her before the kids arrived also. And she said I could call again if I want.”

“Good. That’s good. Be sure to take time for yourself, Ilya. Don’t put it off because you think you need to be available for the kids. We’re a team, let the second line do some of the work too.”

“I know. Thank you, Yuna.”

“Come here.” Yuna pulled Ilya into a hug, and he let himself rest a little of his weight on her shoulder. They only held the hug for a moment before David came back out to get the last of the bags. They let each other go gently, then walked inside together, ready to face the chaos again.

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes

Luca Haas is HERE

So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it was no wonder that something had slipped through the cracks.

When Ilya’s phone started ringing on Friday morning, he looked at the contact, swore—loudly and to an admonishment from Shane—and picked it up.

“Haasy. Hi.” Ilya closed his eyes and put a hand over his face.

“Heeeeey Cap. Uh… where are you?”

“Ah, we are not at the Cottage any more. We are back in the city. With my niece and nephews.”

“Oh! I didn’t know your family was visiting.”

“Eh, they are not visiting. It’s more complicated than that. Hold on.” Ilya pulled the phone away from his face and spoke to Shane. “Haasy is at the cottage. We forgot we were doing his pre-camp stuff today.”

“Shit. Yeah. Uh, I guess he can do it here? Then my mom can tag in as well if we need —either with the kids or with Haas.”

“It is… it is not too much? They have met so many people already I worry they will not settle.”

Shane frowned, and looked at where the three kids were on the couch together. They’d been planning a slow day after the last two days of moving them around so much, so the three of them had been set up with Sofia in charge of YouTube. They’d settled there after finishing their breakfasts, and were arguing between each other about what Russian show they were trying to find. Shane’s parents had finally left late last night, the three Hollanders making plans for which stores to visit and what days Yuna and David would be available to take the kids while the camp was on. Svetlana had retreated to her hotel the night before, swearing she would sleep until Sunday. Today was supposed to be a day to let them chill, to get a feel for the five of them as a family.

“They’ll be meeting everyone at the Sunday pre-Camp meeting anyway, might be good to have an extra person there that they know,” Shane said, eventually. “And it’s Luca—he won’t mind if we have to send him away, or if he and I have to head to the foundation offices and do it there.”

“Okay. You are in charge of Haas, me and the kids can look at the lists that you made last night—maybe buy some things online.”

“Not too much,” Shane said quickly. “Don’t forget that they’ve got things arriving from Russia in a couple of weeks.”

Ilya nodded, and put the phone back to his face to finish talking to Luca.

“Come here, you can meet the kids. But be nice, it has been a busy few days.” Ilya saw Shane mouth ‘He’s always nice,’ at the same time that Luca said it in his ear, and Ilya laughed. “Even nicer than usual. Did you bring chocolate?” At Ilya’s question all four heads turned in his direction, though Shane’s was frowning.

“I have it at home, but Shane said he’d be mad if I brought you chocolate. Or if he saw me eating it during the season.”

“I think if you want to make friends with children you should bring chocolate.” Sofia started grinning, and Ilya stuck his tongue out at her. “Maybe not too fancy though—I don’t think three is the age to best appreciate artisanal chocolate.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Luca said, and they each signed off the call.

“Uncle Ilya, who has chocolate?” Asked Sofia. Clearly she’d seen Shane’s face and decided that Ilya was going to be more lenient.

“Our rookie—Luca Haas. He is coming to learn how to be coach at the summer camp we do, so the four of us will have a look at your bedrooms and order things you need, while Shane and Luca do boring paperwork things. Sound good?”

“Why is he coaching if he’s a rookie—surely he doesn’t know enough?” Sofia asked.

“He’s still a professional hockey player, I think he can keep up with a class of seven year-olds.”

Sofia seemed to be content enough with Ilya’s answers, and she turned back to the TV. Ilya wondered what kind of kids show he should be encouraging the boys to watch to improve their english, but Yuna had promised that she’d look into what school and pre-school options were out there. Sofia would struggle more, there weren’t really options for thirteen year-olds who spoke only a small amount of English who didn’t have French as well, but Shane was sure they’d find something. Ilya had resorted to physically pulling the laptop and then phone out of Shane’s hands to get him to sleep last night.

Luca, having started at the cottage and diverting to his own home, took nearly three hours to arrive at Ilya’s house. When Ilya opened the door for him, he was confronted with a clear plastic rucksack filled with... purple.

“Here, this was at the duty free and I was gonna give it to Harris, but I guess this is more important.”

“Hi Luca!” Shane called from inside, but Ilya just stared at the backpack.

“Did you seriously bring a bag full of Milka for my family to eat?”

“Well... yeah. You said not to bring them anything fancy, and Harris is weird and likes Milka because he doesn’t have any taste, but I figured the kids would like it instead.” Luca reached into his back pocket and pulled out a second bar. “But I refuse to let them think that Milka is acceptable so here’s some Frey from my personal stash.”

Ilya turned around, the backpack in one hand, and raised his eyebrows at the approaching figure of Shane, who laughed at them both.

“Thank you Luca, that’s very thoughtful,” Shane said, taking the bar that Ilya had ignored. “Come in, as Ilya seems to have forgotten all his manners.” Shane took the backpack from Ilya as well, and led the three of them into the living room.

“Nikolai, Denis, Sofia—this is Luca Haas. This is our friend Luca,” Shane introduced them all, and Luca waved.

“Hello!” Luca said, cheery as always.

Shane held out the chocolate. “Luca has chocolate. Say thank you to Luca.”

“Thank you,” said both of the boys, Denis grabbed at the backpack, but Sofia stayed markedly silent and still. Ilya looked at where she was—apparently having moved to one of the chairs instead of wrapped up with her brothers—curled up with her phone in front of her face.

Was that... a blush?

“Hi everyone. Nice to meet you.” Luca said, enthusiastic. “You guys staying for long? Or just a summer vacation thing?”

“Ah, they will be living here now,” Ilya said, wishing that he’d said something before. “We will tell the whole team and everyone soon—there have been lots of things to organise. Here—drink?”

“Sure,” Luca said, and Ilya happily redirected them into the kitchen, getting a little separation from the kids.

“Shit Roz, sorry. Didn’t mean to stick my foot in it,” Luca said, as soon as they were separated by a wall.

“No, no. It’s okay. You didn’t know. Their parents—my brother—died, and so Shane and I have taken them in,” Ilya said, not looking directly at Luca as he moved through the motions of getting a glass.

“Fuck. Shit. Oh man, are you okay?”

“I am... my brother and I were not close. Not for a long time. I am sad, but I have Shane and I have David and Yuna and Centaurs.”

“Of course you have all of us. Just call if you need anything, alright? I dunno what I could do to help, but I know everyone would want you to reach out. Don’t think you have to keep this from us.” Luca smiled nervously, clearly uncertain what to say, but Ilya appreciated his words.

“They only got here on Wednesday, and we only find out last weekend and didn’t know what was going to happen for sure. It has been… a busy few days.”

Luca nodded, taking a big gulp of his drink. “Big age gap between them, though. That’s pretty wild.”

“Ah, yes. Different mother. I knew Sofia when she was small—she was born when I was your age. The boys are three, and I haven’t been back to Russia since before they were born, so they are strangers. Whole thing is very weird.” While Ilya was talking, Sofia padded softly into the room, went to the cupboard for a glass, and then filled it up from the tap.

“Hello—Sofia?” Luca asked. This time Ilya saw Sofia’s blush much more clearly.

“Hi,” She said, brief. “You are Luca Haas.” Ilya couldn’t figure out if the stammer in her voice was her english or her... embarrassment?

Oh shit, he recognised this look. She was looking at Luca like he was some kind of... special deity. She had a fucking crush on the rookie.

“Nice to meet you.” Luca smiled. Ilya felt an irrational urge to tell him not to talk to her. This was ridiculous. Luca had no interest in a teenager.

Sofia seemed to have reached the end of her ability to talk to Luca as she squeaked and retreated. Ilya laughed at the look of hurt confusion on Luca’s face.

“Haasy, what are your intentions with my niece?”

“What,” Luca said forcefully, nearly dropping his own drink. “the fuck, Roz.”

Ilya missed when Luca was a little scared of him.

“She has crush on you. I think she can do better than hockey player, but you have good prospects.”

“The fuck? Ilya, please. Surely you know.… I would never... oh my god does she really?”

“Haasy, it’s okay. She’s a teenager. I was a teenager with a crush on many inappropriate people. It will go away. But maybe don’t be too nice. I don’t want her first kiss to be with a poster of you.”

“Roz, no. Oh god, are there people out there kissing my poster?”

“I don’t know, did you kiss my poster?”

“NO! I just looked... hey,” Luca glared daggers at Ilya. “You promised you’d stop giving me shit for that. I was fourteen.”

“I know, but it will be funny until you retire and have one thousand children.”

“Did you invite me here to be mean or to help you with your camp? Because I can leave...”

“Nope, come here.” Shane walked in and opened the fridge, grabbing a drink of his own. “Ilya, we’re going to sit in the office and go over the boring bits. You’re in charge of lunch. We can all eat together, and then maybe we take the kids down to the rink? My mom can’t make it this afternoon, so we can’t do everything but I think that the kids are starting to be a little too cooped up.”

Ilya could hear voices from he other room. Apparently Sofia had started an argument with one or both of her brothers about what they were going to watch next. Perhaps Shane was right.

“Can they skate?” Luca asked, and Ilya shrugged.

“I don’t know. Last time I asked her about ice hockey she said that they were all stupid, but maybe you can change her mind, yes?” Luca glared daggers at him, and Shane just looked confused. “Also even if they don’t skate we can show them around a little. Yuna and David can’t take them every day of camp, so we will have to bring them along some days, and I think they will like knowing a bit before we go.”

“Oh man, that sounds fun. Can I come?”Luca asked.

“You want to teach babies to skate? Sure. But no encouraging my niece. She is too young for you.” Ilya said with a smirk, and Luca smacked him with the back of his hand.

The rink was technically closed. There had been a public skate that morning, filled with children and teens on their summer vacation, and Ilya knew that there were some other skate trainings in the afternoon. Luckily that was the sort of thing that his husband memorised, so they were there just after the last of the youth figure skating classes ended for the day. The Zamboni was rolling over the ice when they arrived, and Ilya let himself in to the lockers for renting skates and grabbed some for all three of the kids.

After a few false starts with Ilya’s total inability to gauge such small shoe sizes, everyone was wearing suitable skates, and Luca led the procession out onto the ice.

Sofia stared at Luca as he skated around—Ilya only just resisting the urge to point it out and mock her gently. After a quick lap to shake off some of his energy, Luca came back to the gate and held out his hands to her.

“Come on, I won’t let you fall,” Luca said with a smile, and Sofia let herself be led onto the ice. Ilya watched them carefully for a few moments, but it appeared that Luca had her well in hand, and honestly he and Shane taking one each of the boys was going to be more than enough.

Shane held Denis’ hands carefully as the boy stepped onto the ice. Shane held him steady as he, too, stepped forward, and then pushed both of them out into the centre of the rink, carving lines through the centaur that lay there, not yet pulled up and replaced for the new season. Ilya took a moment to appreciate how good his husband looked with his nephew, how all his laser-focus was now devoted to the tiny figure between his legs, who stayed upright only through the careful hold that Shane had on his hands.

Nikolai was looking at the ice much more nervously than Denis had, and Ilya bent down to look him in the eye.

“Kolya. are you okay? Do you want to go skating?” Ilya asked softly. He wasn’t quite sure if it was real fear or just uncertainty. At his question, though, there was a flash of panic on the boy’s face.

“I want to follow. But what about when I fall?” His eyes were so big, and Ilya wanted desperately to pick him up and reassure him. Nikolai had been much more nervous of both him and Shane than his brother, however, and so Ilya knew he had to go carefully.

“Well, you are wearing a lot of clothes so you are well padded. And I will hold your hand the whole time, just like Shane is with Denya. See?” Ilya picked Nikolai up, his movements slow and obvious, so that he could see over the boards at where his brother was skating.

“I don’t want you to let go. Even once. I will fall and it will hurt and be cold and bad and then you will tell me off.”

Ilya gaped at Nikolai, though his hold didn’t waver. He... Was that how his brother had treated them? He had never thought especially highly of Alexei, but this was unexpected.

“No, Kolya. No, I won’t let go. And even if you fall I will pick you up, okay? And if you don’t want to skate, we can sit here and watch your sister fall over instead.” Indeed, Sofia had fallen, hard, and looked like she wanted the ice to open up and swallow her whole, even though Luca was being very patient, bracing against her skates to get her back up.

Nikolai seemed to be a little reassured by the sight of Sofia on the ice, and so he nodded softly, holding his right hand up to hold on to Ilya while he seemed to be protecting himself with his left.

“Both hands, Kolya. Here.” Ilya grabbed hold of the hand gently, his fingers finding their way into Nikolai’s looser left-hand grip, and pulled his arm up so that they mirrored Shane and Denis. The hand didn’t quite close the way the right one did, and Ilya filed that away under cold fingers and nerves. Ilya lifted Nikolai onto the ice, having to bend forward slightly so that he could hold on without hovering him a few inches above the ground.

All six of them managed to get into a formation, doing laps around the rink with the adults doing the skating while the kids were just pulled along. After a few laps, Ilya and Shane skated beside each other, while Luca tried to get Sofia to start pushing herself, one hand on the boards while he hovered around her to catch when she overbalanced. Ilya found his own focus entirely filled by his nephew, who seemed determined to steer them right despite them travelling around in anticlockwise circles.

After a few minutes of skating, Shane was starting to let Denis skate a little ahead, helping him to find his balance on his skates. Ilya started to do the same, loosening his hold on Nikolai a little without letting go, but instead of stretching out like his brother, Nikolai immediately whimpered, flung himself backward with his left skate skidding out from under him, and would have fallen straight on his ass if Ilya hadn’t gripped on tight again.

“NO! You promised you wouldn’t let go.” Nikolai’s shout made Sonya’s head whip around, her crush and skating skill forgotten as she tried to push off and come over. She fell—fairly spectacularly—and then shouted over.

“Nikolai. Just hold on.”

“Sonya, stay. It’s alright. I’ve got him,” Ilya called out.

“Then why is he scared?”

“It was just a bit of a slip. He didn’t fall. It’s alright.” Ilya couldn’t figure out why Sofia looked so much like she was going to make him explode with her eyes, but he did his best to just look at her calmly. Luca, somewhat oblivious, skated between them to help her up, and Ilya bent down to Nikolai’s height, still holding on.

They’d stopped skating, and Ilya let Nikolai hold his knee with one hand, while the other stayed firmly attached to Ilya’s glove.

“Hey bunny. You’re alright. It’s okay. I didn’t let go.”

“I thought you were going to.” Nikolai was breathing heavily, his eyes still wide with the panic.

“I promised I wouldn’t.” Ilya ducked down slightly to look Nikolai in the eye. “I wanted you to learn to balance, but we don’t have to. If you don’t want to skate that’s fine.”

“Sofia says I need to try not to fall any more.”

Ilya frowned. “Any more? Do you fall a lot?“

Nikolai shrugged, but his eyes left Ilya’s face and went back to the ground. He wobbled slightly, and Ilya’s spare hand came around his middle, holding him steady.

Sofia had apparently convinced Luca to pull her over to them, as she slid into Ilya’s side without slowing at all.

“Kolya, are you alright? Did you fall? Did Uncle Ilya let go?” Sofia looked like she was ready to fight Ilya, even as she held on to his shoulders to stay upright. Ilya was glad he was a pro on the ice—perhaps he should recommend being battered by small children as a skating drill for edge control.

“It was scary. I thought he was letting go.” Nikolai’s lip trembled.

“I did not let go. I will not let go.” Ilya tried to reassure Nikolai, but the boy was clearly done. Perhaps he was tired, needing more time to get used to them, and learning to skate was arduous work. Ilya remembered hours of skating as a boy, feeling like every muscle in his body was revolting, while his father told him to get back out on the ice.

“Nikolai, do you want to keep skating, or do you want to sit and watch? It’s ok both ways. I will stay with you no matter what.”

“I will come too. We can sit together.” Sofia said, but Ilya held up a hand.

“Sofia, you keep skating. Nikolai and I will be fine together, yes?” Ilya looked expectantly at Nikolai.

After a long moment, he nodded slowly.

“I will skate a little bit more. Then sit down,” he said, with the kind of serious conviction that only small children could muster. Ilya smiled, and went to hold both hands as he had before.

“Okay, Hold on nice and tight. I’m holding on tight as well. Feel that?”

Nikolai nodded, and so Ilya stood. Sofia wobbled a little, grabbing hold of Ilya again, then Luca held out a hand of his own for her to grab.

“Hello, is everyone alright?” Shane came to a gentle stop with his own twin in front of Ilya, his tone soft but his face serious where he looked at them both.

“All good, we were just seeing if it was time to stop. But we skate a little more. Skate a little more then sit down, yes?“ Ilya looked down at both of the boys. Denis pouted.

“No! I like skating. I want to stay.”

“You can skate with Shane as much as you like, but Nikolai is more tired than you, so we will sit when he is done.”

“No, we stay together.” Denis pushed forward on his skate, and Shane pushed him just a little, keeping one hand in his while letting the other go. Fuck, he had picked it up fast.

“It’s okay, I’ll sit with him too. You can skate.” Sofia said, and Ilya sighed. It seemed that they were determined to not leave Nikolai alone, and this was probably not the time to figure out what was happening between the siblings. Perhaps they were just… nervous.

Denis looked a little uncertain, but eventually he nodded and let Shane lead them both away.

Ilya sighed, and continued the skate. Maybe they’d figure it out when they got home.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you Zaharya for offering me strong opinions on swiss chocolate

Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

A New Chapter? It's more likely than you think.
For returning readers - I have made some minor changes to the earlier chapters bc there were things that didn't make sense or details I'd gotten tangled. Shouldn't make any difference overall, but it was bothering me.

Svetlana arrived at nine on Sunday morning, dropped at the kerb by David. She knocked on the door with her hands full of pastries and the fresh face of someone who had slept for fourteen hours. Ilya tried his best not to hate her for it.

“I want it noted that I am a hero,” she announced in the hallway, pushing the bag into Ilya’s chest. “I have been awake for forty minutes, and yet your mother-in-law has tried to feed me three different variations on maple syrup for breakfast.”

“You are a hero,” Ilya said, blearily. Denis had refused to settle last night until gone midnight, and yet had been up at six this morning with strong opinions about breakfast food. Shane getting up for his usual breakfast was apparently incorrect in ways that were incomprehensible to both Shane’s level of Russian and Denis’ level of cope, and so Ilya had ended up making three different breakfasts before cereal was settled upon.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“You are a great hero of the Russian people. They will name a bridge after you. Perhaps a Siberian village.”

“A small village, yes.” She kissed him on both cheeks, and then went straight past him into the living room, where the three children were now lined up on the couch in order of height, with Anya spread across their laps like a blanket. “Good morning. Who wants to tell me what is a good Canadian breakfast?”

“Cereal,” said Denis, with great authority. Ilya suppressed a laugh.

“Cereal is not a breakfast. It is just bad soup. Try again.”

“But it has marshmallows,” Denis protested. Ilya was glad that Shane hadn’t seen where he had hidden the sugary monstrosity that was the breakfast cereal Denis had landed on. At least now he could say that he was buying them for the kids.

“Oh, well, if it has marshmallows…” Svetlana said, and Denis cheered. Ilya caught a smile from Sofia.

Ilya stood in the doorway, pastry bag in hand, and just watched. Sveta had been forcibly removed from the hotel by Yuna and David, the two of them showing up yesterday and informing her that she was family now, and that family didn’t pay to stay in town when there was room. Sveta had called and explained the whole thing while unpacking her bag into the chest of drawers next to her new bed, and wondering if Ilya knew where Yuna bought her towels, as ‘these are much nicer than yours, Ilya, you can afford nicer towels.’ He wondered if Sveta was staying in the bedroom that used to be Shane’s.

Sveta had been his friend for longer than he had been anybody’s husband, and she was about to take on a very strange job on his behalf, and he wasn’t sure that he had ever said a proper thank you. He wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to.

Shane came down the stairs behind him, hair still wet, staring accusingly at the phone in his hand. He’d gone for a run after their early morning breakfast negotiation, while Ilya had stayed home and tried not to nap on the couch.

“Okay, two things. First, the meeting is at eleven, so we want to be out of the house by half ten, so we’ve got to be ready with shoes on at ten fifteen.” Shane had only been mildly horrified at how long it had taken to get all five of them out of the house when they’d gone out to buy food together yesterday, and Ilya could practically feel Shane mentally recalculating the rest of the week, as he had when he’d attempted to fall asleep last night for about the third time.

“The second thing—Luca asked if we wanted him to bring more snacks for the kids. I said yes, but that he had to give them to you first because I don’t want them to be on a crazy sugar high for the whole meeting.”

“And I can eat it too?”

Shane levelled a flat stare at him.

“I am under no illusion that I could stop you. Go ahead.”

“You are sad that he still thinks I’m better than you.”

“He doesn’t think you’re better, he’s just more scared of me. I would have thought a year on the team together would have cured him of that by now, but never mind.” Shane tilted his head at the bag in Ilya’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Ah. Breakfast. From Sveta.”

“Oh god. Alright, I’ll set it out while you assemble everyone. Is anyone dressed?”

Ilya looked down at his own sweats and slippers, and shook his head. “Sveta is.”

Shane sighed. “Alright. I’ll go find clothes while you all eat.”

It took forty minutes to get the children fed, which Ilya had come to understand was actually a pretty good average given they’d only been doing this for three days. Denis ate with the focus of a man trying to defuse a bomb, except that somehow the end result looked more like it had gone off in his face. Nikolai had a system, and watching him methodically make his way through the various shapes of the cereal made something warm bubble up inside Ilya. Despite having no relation to Shane at all, Nikolai seemed to be channelling him.

Sofia sat between the two boys, working her way through the pastries while keeping a wry eye on the rest of the table. While both boys had slowly warmed to Shane, Ilya and Svetlana, she was a much tougher nut to crack.

When Nikolai’s sleeve started to slide down over his left hand, Sofia reached over without fully looking up from her phone and rolled it back up. Ilya had barely even seen it happen before Sofia was there and fixing it. Once it was done, Sofia grabbed the hand and squeezed it, then folded it out flat on the table, where it lay still next to his busy right hand shovelling more cereal into his face with considerably more precision than his brother.

By twenty to ten all three had been moved back into the living room with a show Sofia had finally agreed was ‘not stupid’, and the three adults were left in the kitchen with the dishes and a problem.

“You saw that Gérard sent the first draft?” Svetlana asked, once Ilya had pulled the door half closed. She had her phone out on the counter and swiped through to the PDF without looking at either of them. Shane had his phone out looking at the same file on his email, as though it might jump out and bite him. “They want you both to sign by the end of next week, and then they file on the Monday.” Svetlana looked at first Ilya, then Shane, as though checking that this was still fine. If Ilya hadn’t spent three hours already this morning watching his niblings fondly, he’d be the first to throw his hands in the air and call the whole thing off, but he looked toward the door again, imagining he could see through it to the three kids sitting on the couch.

“Then the wedding is in August,” Svetlana carried on. “A civil ceremony. City Hall. We need two witnesses and I have been told it is nothing like what happens in films, which is a relief, because I would feel bad about the dress.”

“You are not wearing a wedding dress.”

“I am absolutely wearing a dress, Ilyusha. If I am going to be a married woman for six months, I will be a well-dressed one.”

Ilya laughed, because there was nothing else to do, and then stopped, because Shane wasn’t. He was looking down at his own left hand where it lay on the counter, and at the ring on it, and he turned it a quarter of a turn with his thumb. Ilya had watched him do the same thing on the bench a dozen times when they’d been down by two in the third period, and again when the highlights decided to show a montage of Shane’s final year with the Metros.

“It’s paper,” Shane said, quietly, to the ring more than to either of them. “I know it’s paper. I just keep thinking about signing it.”

Ilya moved around the counter and put a hand over Shane’s, over the ring. Svetlana, who was in many ways a woman of great tact, suddenly became absorbed in loading the dishwasher.

“We will still be married,” Ilya said, in a low voice. “This does not change. The government changes. We do not change.”

“I know. I know that.”

“I will wear the ring.”

“You’ll have to take it off for the ceremony.”

“Then I will wear it on chain. Around neck. Like soldier.”

“Like a soldier?” Shane said, incredulously, and finally cracked a smile. Ilya felt a tight band of fear ease off his ribs.

It came back in about thirty seconds, because Svetlana shut the dishwasher and said, “Okay. The meeting. And the address. We must do both, and I would like to do them while the children are watching a cartoon and not listening.”

“Address?” said Shane.

“Gérard says that a married woman must live with her husband. It is not a legal thing in Canada, nobody cares in Canada. It is a Moscow thing. Moscow will want to see on a form that I live at this address, with my husband, and the children, and that it is a normal family home. If somebody from the consulate wants to come for tea, I live here.”

“But you… we don’t have the space,” Shane said. “Not really.”

“I sleep at your parent's. That is where I live. But the form says I live here.” She smiled sweetly. “I will have a toothbrush and a picture on the wall that looks like I chose it.”

“And where does the guy who’s actually married to Ilya sleep?” Shane asked. Ilya couldn’t stand it any longer and pulled Shane in, tucking him into his side.

“Where he always sleeps, sunshine. Next to his beautiful husband. They won’t check the sheets or watch us at night. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Nowhere.”

“I know, I know.” Shane didn’t sniff, but he did take a deep, steadying breath. “Just tell my stupid brain that.”

“Ah, your brain is my favourite part, don’t be mean to him.” Ilya pecked Shane’s forehead, and Shane gave a watery laugh in return. “Now, what is next on your list?”

Shane settled himself with another big sigh, and looked down at his phone where he’d turned it face down on the table. Then he looked up at Ilya with his big eyes, and Ilya could see exactly where this conversation was about to go.

Shane had made his case on Friday night, in the same calm, commanding tone he used in the locker room. A divorce would be a headline. It would put everything they’d fought for in jeopardy. They’d had a relatively calm year so far, but the scars of Shane’s last few games at Montreal still lingered for both of them. The famous married hockey players of Ottawa getting a divorce would stir it up again, but this time with a hundred times the calls about fraud and game fixing and poor sportsmanship.

They’d always been more famous than the average hockey superstar, but last year had catapulted both of them into the public sphere more definitively than anything before. This wouldn’t just be seen by hockey nerds, this would be international news.

And international news couldn’t be ignored by Moscow, no matter how much they spent convincing officials of the ‘administrative error’.

Ilya knew that, he understood it. But these were their friends. They were going to be there all week while the most stressful part of all this sorted itself out at the camps, and then half of them were their teammates who were going to watch all year, while Svetlana stayed here and played house.

“Everyone we tell is another weak link in the chain,” Shane said, repeating what he’d been saying for the last two days.

“Everyone there understands, Shane. It is gay hockey player bingo, except for Pike and J.J. And Pike has learned his lesson. They know how to be careful.”

“We give them the short version. The kids are staying with us. You’re sorting out guardianship. Svetlana is helping us out. It’s all they need.”

“And then what? They are asked questions by government when we are finishing the guardianship and they have a different story? My love, they all need to know what is happening. We are asking the Pikes for references, yes? And probably Bood and Boyle and Chewy. They need to know at least a little bit.

“I’m not saying that we lie, I’m saying we don’t tell them… everything.”

“And then the day Sveta is there wearing her ring and they all see it?” Shane made a noise low in his throat. Ilya gripped him a little tighter and whispered in his ear. “I know you are scared. I know that this is hard. I am scared too. But we let our friends help us, yes? That is what we agreed. We have friends and we don’t do things alone because that makes us do silly things.”

Shane let out another long breath. “Alright, fine. We tell them. But as little as possible for now, alright? Nothing about the Russian government or Gérard’s friend or where Svetlana sleeps. And no pictures of the kids. I don’t want them to end up in the crossfire if this gets out properly.”

“Okay. It will be okay. We tell them not to tell anybody. Not wives, not husbands, not dogs, not back of closet. They will all stay quiet because they are our friends.”

They held each other tight in a hug, Svetlana creeping out the door while they had a moment together. Eventually, the embrace broke and Shane looked at Ilya.

“Right. Clothes. And shoes.”

“How hard can it be?” Ilya said, like a fool.

The Irina Foundation offices were in a converted warehouse about five minutes from the arenas. Ilya tried not to go in; he had been perhaps all of three times in the years since they’d founded the charity, but there just wasn’t space for them to have a permanent office in the Canadian Tire Centre or at the practice arena if they wanted to have any money left over to actually give away to charities, and so this was where they’d ended up. There were two small offices, one holding Yuna and the other holding the woman who they’d hired as Yuna’s assistant, and both fronted onto a larger room, where there were two sofas, a large whiteboard, a table, a medium-sized kitchenette, and a half-dozen chairs. The summer skating school had the rink on Sundays, which was the only reason they were here at all.

The whiteboard already had Shane’s neat handwriting at the top from where they’d come in last weekend—god, that felt like years ago now—to prepare. Monday to Friday was laid out, and then a grid for the different coaching teams. One corner had a teetering stack of last summer’s t-shirts in boxes that had somehow been forgotten in a back room of the Centre Bell and returned to them in high dudgeon in about February, still with no home to go to. And between the two office doors hung a picture of his mother, smiling with her two sons in her arms, and a small plaque underneath that reminded anyone walking through the room of the value of mental health.

Ilya didn’t look at the picture.

Luca was standing by the whiteboard with a bar of chocolate in each hand, like a man at a strange kind of wedding. He smiled down at the procession of children entering the room, then solemnly handed the chocolate to Ilya.

“I’m told that there was too much last time,” Luca said with a grin. Both of the twins looked up at Ilya hopefully, and Ilya doled out a piece each for them, then one for himself, and one each for Luca and Sofia. Sofia took hers with a muttered thank you, and then retreated to huddle up in a corner of the sofa, once again engrossed in her phone. Ilya made a note to send her the wifi, and then returned his attention to the boys.

“Is that a dog?” Denis asked, pointing at one of the tattoos on Luca’s arm. It was, in fact, a centaur—though stylised by Luca to be much more attractive than their team logo. Luca clearly didn’t understand the question, but he nodded emphatically and Ilya groaned internally.

“You like my centaur? See here it is a horse, and I made the man look like your uncle Shane!” Both boys turned to look at Shane when they heard his name, and then looked back at the tattoo. Denis pointed at it again.

“Anya!”

Ilya laughed. “He asked if it was dog.”

“Oh.” Luca made an exaggerated sad face. “I don’t have a dog tattoo. I can draw a dog though?”

“After the meeting,” Shane said, striding over. “Assuming they haven’t gone totally feral by then from the chocolate.”

“I was very good, they get one small square each.”

The rest of the coaches were coming in, those who played on different teams catching up with each other, and the Centaurs comparing their summers since their almost-win in last season’s playoffs. Everyone looked pleased—happy and ready to go—and Ilya found himself getting caught up in other conversations while Luca materialised a pen and paper from among the stationery in the office and was drawing dogs for the boys. They seemed to find this some kind of magic.

“Say thank you, Denishka, Kolya. You can colour in while we talk,” Ilya eventually had to say, and the two boys muttered their thanks in Russian before allowing themselves to be led over to the couch where Sofia was sitting.

“We will only be an hour, I think. Just tell me if you need anything. You remember where the bathroom was?”

“I’ll be fine, uncle. Just go.”

Ilya found he didn’t have the energy to try and smooth over whatever Sofia had going on. He trusted her with the boys while everyone talked, and he was reasonably sure that she would actually come to him if anyone got injured. The bag they’d brought with colouring books and pencils was already being excitedly excavated by Denis, and Nikolai was picking things up as they were strewn onto the floor, lining them up ready to be used.

Of course, of all the people to come to the meeting, it was Wyatt who first noticed and mentioned their guests.

Wyatt approached Ilya slowly, and put his hand on Ilya’s shoulder.

“Hey, Roz. What’s with the kids?”

As though he’d spoken much louder, his voice seemed to quiet the rest of the room. Shane was looking right at Ilya, standing between J.J. and Pike where they’d been catching up. Ryan was talking to Max, the height difference between them almost comical, and Leah beside them in animated conversation with Troy Barrett. Eric and Scott both had their phones out, and Bood was just coming through the door, a coffee in his hand.

All of them stopped and looked up when Wyatt spoke.

Shane broke the silence.

“Well, I guess we should make this the first order of business then. Everyone, this is Sofia, Denis, and Nikolai. They are the children of Ilya’s brother.”

“I thought you didn’t talk to your brother,” Bood said, and Troy clapped a hand over his mouth.

“My brother, he…” Ilya found there was a lump in his throat.

“Why don’t we all sit down first. Pretend we’re adults,” Scott said, and Ilya nodded at him in thanks. There was a general shuffling as everyone argued over seats, the second couch getting pulled forward to form a loose circle that wasn’t really very near the table, and Ilya stepped to the front of the room next to Shane.

“This has all happened very fast, just last week, so no questions, just listen. Eight days ago, I find out my brother and wife are killed in car accident, so I am named to take care of his children. They only arrived in the week, so everything is still very new. They will have to come to the camp next week, so it is extra important that there are no photos of children that we have not checked for privacy.” Ilya paused to swallow down the last of the lump in his throat, and was more than happy to let Shane take over.

“There’s some legal stuff that we’re going through at the moment to make sure that they’re able to stay permanently with Ilya. And me. We’re taking all three of them in.”

“We are telling you because you will see them at the camp, and you are our friends." Ilya took over "And because...” He faltered, and felt Shane’s shoe press against his. “Because it is not simple. There is a lot of law. It is complicated for Russians, with kids, with a man like me, so the lawyers have a plan. And the plan is—”

“Not good,” interrupted Max Riley. It was not a question. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I can see the shape of it. What are they telling you to do?”

“I divorce Shane.”

The chair next to Barrett went backward with a clatter. Bood was on his feet.

“WHAT?”

“Bood. Sit.”

“You’re divorcing—”

“Zane,” said Barrett, with the patient voice of a man who had said it a thousand times, “sit down.”

“I’m sitting,” said Bood, who was not.

“It’s not real,” Shane said. He had gone pale rather than red, which Ilya noticed, and his voice was perfectly steady, which Ilya noticed more. “It’s a legal thing. On paper only. We sign something, we file it, and then Ilya marries Svetlana, who’s a Russian citizen, for a while. That’s how the kids stay with him. It’s temporary. It’s paper. I’m not going anywhere, and that’s all anybody in this room needs to know about it.”

“Oh,” said Bood, and sat very suddenly. “Oh. Oh my god. I thought—”

“We know what you thought.”

Hayden Pike raised a hand. “For clarity. Is he going to be my ex-husband-in-law, or—”

“Hayden,” said J.J., and elbowed him so hard that coffee jumped out of his mug.

“What? It’s a real question.”

“It is the worst question,” said Ilya, and the room finally laughed, not much, a little rush of released air, and he felt something in his chest go slack with gratitude.

“What I—what we need,” said Ilya once the laughter had gone, “is that you keep this secret. Not on phones. Not to wives, not to husbands, not to your mother.” He looked around the circle and locked eyes with Troy. “Harris will do the team when we say, we will talk to him soon. Until then, it is only this room. If a person asks, we are old friends of family and there is a lot of paperwork. I am sorry to ask. It is not that I think—”

“It’s not that we think any of you would, not intentionally,” Shane said quietly, and everyone pointedly didn’t look at Pike. “But if it gets out, if anything gets in the way of Russia letting Ilya bring them here permanently, they go back there, and into the system.”

Everyone sat with the weight of that for a while, and then Luca raised his hand.

“What’s the Russian word for dog?”

“Sobaka,” Ilya said, pronouncing it carefully. Denis’ head perked up and he looked over, as though a dog had been summoned by Ilya’s words.

“Right. So next time they ask me for sobika”—Ilya flinched at the pronunciation—“I’ll be sure to draw a dog and not a horse.”

Shane and Ilya both smiled gratefully at Luca. Everyone shared various offers of support, including Wyatt offering to come around with Lisa to recommend a paediatrician, and then the real meeting began in earnest.

Once they were done, Ilya found he was drawn into a discussion by Max and Leah, and so he missed when Bood wandered over to the kids’ colouring space and started joining in. By the time Ilya looked over, he saw Bood picking up a colour, offering it to Nikolai, and then waiting for a nod or a shake before either handing it over or just putting it back down and picking another. Niko seemed to find this very entertaining, and had now decided to just shake his head and explain in careful Russian that it wasn’t the right colour, and he needed to try again, and then Bood made an exaggerated groan of despair before picking up another. Niko’s laughs were getting louder and louder, until he fell over in his mirth, and Bood caught him gently before his head could hit the ground.

Ilya looked over at Shane and they shared a smile. Shane wouldn’t be convinced that telling all these people was safe until they had signed the last of the paperwork making it so, but they had good friends, and this didn’t have to be quite so hard.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you to everyone that has subscribed and been so so patient about this story - I have been filled with writing demons recently and had an insanely productive few weeks and so... voila!