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It's not until Jackie's cousin, in a well meaning gesture to support Athur, gifts him a tarantula. Which, well. He buys him the appropriate terrarium and hands Hayden a stack of pamphlets on how to take care of a tarrantula. Which is all well and good except for the fact that there is now a fucking enormous tarrantula in their home.

Arthur squeals with joy. Jackie and Hayden less so. Next to them on the couch, Ilya pulls his feet back from where they almost touched the newly unwrapped terrarium.

But it's fine. Hayden loves his son and wants him to be happy (although he did high-five Jackie after she pulled her Cousin to the side to tell him in a kind but very firm way to never ever gift them an animal again without consulting them). So, it's good. It's fine. Toby the Tarrantula happily lives withe the Pike family while Hayden manages to not completely freak out whenever goes into his son's bedroom. It's fine. It's good.

It very quickly turns very bad though on a sunny Saturday evening. The evening had started out well enough, with Shane and Ilya coming over for dinner while Jackie was out for dinner with her old college friends. There was a slight hitch when Hayden realised that he had promised the girls pancakes for dinner without checking the fridge. But even that problem was quickly resolved with Shane simply grabbing his car keys and announcing that "I'll get them, i'll be back in 10 minutes".

No, the very bad part started just after Shane had left the driveway, when Hayden bumped into the tarrarium which was currently staying in the living room while they got Arthur's bedroom painted. The thankfully still intact but unfortunately very empty terrarium.

"Rozanov, I'm gonna ask this once and you better be honest", Hayden said, focing himself to stay calm while his eyes were still locked on what should be Toby's home. "Did you take the fucking Spider out to fuck with me?"

Ilya just gave him an unimpressed stare. "It's a tarantula, Pike", he said drily. "And no, I did not take it out of the terrarium. Why?"

Hayden swallowed. Fuck.

"Pike? What-"

"It's empty."

Hayden finally turned to look at Ilya. Ilya took over with staring at the terrarium in horror.

Shit.

Shane finds both of them huddled together on kitchen stairs when he gets back 15 Minutes later with a carton of eggs and some blueberries in hand.

"Are you guys okay?"

Hayden and Ilya both do a horrible impression of acting casual.

"Of course we are, Solnyshko", Ilya assures him, casually leaning against one of the kitchen cabinets. If it weren't for his shaking hands and the way he kept glancing at the terrarium every two seconds, he'd almost pull it of.

"Yeah man, all good", Hayden adds in a voice that sounds only slightly panicked.

"If you say so", Shane says, unconvinced. "Why are you both standing on chairs?"

Hayden and Ilya look at each other. Look at Shane. Turn to look at each other again.

Ilya raises an eyebrow.

Hayden crosses his arms.

Both of them turn back to Shane.

"Easier to keep an eye on the kids that way, you know", Hayden says. Ilya nods. "Direct view to garden", he adds. Hayden nodds.

"For sure", Shane agrees easily before turning to put the eggs into the fridge to hide his smile. Even if he didn't know them as well as he did, it wouldn't be difficult to figure out that they're lying. It's also not particulary difficult to figure out why they chose to stand on top of two chairs that allow them to look at the terrarium while also being as far away as possible (and, to be fair, still keep an eye on the kids playing outside in the garden).

Of course, it's also not that difficult to remember that Jackie dropped off Toby at the Vet before heading out to meet her friends. And it's just as easy to know that Jackie will definitely want picture proof of her husband and Ilya Rozanov furiously whispering at each other while standing on top of two chairs -

"Why don't you get down and look for him"

"You crawl around the ice all the time, probably advantage for you to find him"

"Oh fuck you-"

"ah, so you are arsonist," ilya says, swinging away from the dancing flames to grin at shane, who, predictably, scowls at him. "should i be worried? imagine the headlines! boston star center dies in mystery fire. would be scandalous."

shane's elbow finds ilya's ribs. they're sharp, sharper than they have any right to be, and he wonders how it's taken him 10 years to notice.

"fuck off, city boy." shane tries to keep his scowl in place. he tries, but it transforms to a crinkly eyed smile that catches ilya in the stomach.

but it's easy to fall into familiar habits. they tussle, breathless and buoyant, until shane pulls ilya to his chest and they settle. the fire licks into the darkness. it twists and undulates, and ilya loses himself in the white heat of its center.

"i never went camping," he says eventually as the cherry red glow of the logs shift to ash. "i wanted to but -" he makes a broad sweeping gesture with one hand "-my parents."

as if that explains anything at all.

he slides further down shane's chest and the steady ba thump ba thump of his heartbeat echoes in ilya's every pulse point. if it was possible to tether himself to it, he would.

shane is silent for a long moment, the sweep of his thumb along the bare strip of skin at ilya's waist sending goosebumps up his spine, but then:

"we can go." and he says it easily. he says it like the foundation of this thing they're building isn't fragile. "i know a place. it's - uh - i think you'd like it."

ilya swallows past a lump in his throat and hums. he swings his legs up onto the loveseat to settle his head fully in shane's lap.

"Look how tiny she was!", Hayden texts, followed by another handful of pictures of teeny tiny Amber. And Shane loves his nices and nephew, has always cherished that he gets to be Uncle Shane to them and watch them grow up.

"Cute!", Shane texts back before he scrolls through the pictures one by one. It has been ages and at the same time five minutes since Amber, now gap-toothed and, last Shane saw her, wearing a mud soaked bumblebee dress as she was kneeling in the garden orchestrating a tea party for the frogs in the Pike's pond, was barely old enough to hold up her own head.

A new message from Hayden comes through, though this time it's a video. It's taken from outside Amber's nursery, the hallway dark. The soft light from her various nightlights offers just enough to show the outline of Shane, holding Amber in his arms and swaying slowly from side to side as he's singing softly in French.

"Teething gate!!", Hayden writes. "Saved my ass back then, only thing that got us through that evening. Still a legend for busting out the singing, bud."

And yeah, Shane remembers. He'd come over to help Hayden with the kids, giving Jackie a break now that her husband was back from his roadie, allowing her to get a full nights sleep again. He remembers the bone deep exhaustion when nothing they tried helped with soothing Amber. He remembers Hayden, close to tears, heading downstairs to get one of the teething rings they kept in the freezer in the hope that maybe this time it would help soothe her pain. And Shane had stood there, holding a softly hiccuping Amber in his arms, heart breaking for her and wanting nothing more than to take the pain away.

And suddenly he'd remembered his dad holding him in his arms when he couldn't sleep, mind too loud and running a mile a minute even as a kid, carrying him through their house and singing softly to him.

Shane didn't realize until now that Hayden had recorded him singing.

He's brought back to the present by Ilya nudging his thigh with his foot. "What are you watching?", Ilya asks, his own phone lowered to his chest.

Shane can already feel his cheeks heat up. It's not as if he makes a habit of singing and he's pretty sure he has never sung near Ilya, let alone told him about it.

"Nothing", Shane says quickly. He knows it's to no avail when Ilya raises his eyebrows at him.

"You have been starring at your phone for past ten minutes. Looks very interesting for video about nothing", Ilya says.

And so Shane ends up showing the video to Ilya. He has heard him anyway and there's this curious glint in his eyes that Shane knows well enough by now. He's not going to let it go so might as well go full in.

Ilya's eyes light up when he realises that it's Shane who's singing, in French no less. He insists on watching the video three more times and begs Shane to send it to him afterwards.

Of course, he also looks up the original song. "It's a good song, but you have much prettier voice than her", Ilya tells him after listening to the tong for the first time, leaning up to kiss his jaw. Shane pulls him close, hand automatically finding Ilya's curls as he makes himself comfortable on Shane's shoulder. He kisses Ilya's forehead, listening as the song starts anew.

They listen to it in silce for a while before Ilya asks, "Why this song?"

And, well.

"My parents played it once when I was over at their house for dinner", Shane starts. Well aware that Ilya will want to know more than that, Shane tries not to focus on how fast his heart is beating as he continues. "It's, uhm, a love song. It's an old song, the singer sings about how she misses her husband when he is out at sea, watching the storms that pass by. She always waits at the shore, watching as the boats come back in, looking for the boat where the sunshine illuminates her husband's blonde curls, bringing him and the sunshine back to her."

Shane resolutely stares at the point just above the TV as he mumbles the last part, cheeks aflame.

Ilya sits up from he was resting against Shane, softly taking his chin in his hands to turn Shane so he's facing Ilya.

Ilya waggles with his eyebrows. "I did not realize you were so in love with handsome blonde sailor, Hollander", he teases, laughing as Shane shoves him away with an eye-roll and a "Fuck off, asshole!"

They both know there's no heat behind either statement, not when Shane immediately pulls Ilya close to him again and Ilya lays his head back on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to Shane's throat as he does so.

Shane knows Ilya has long put one and one together, has figured out why Shane might have been drawn to a song about waiting for your loved one to return to you. Has figured out why Shane would sing a song about a man with blond curly hair. Knows they both remember when waiting meant months and sweing each other for a handful of hours, a couple of days if they were lucky. Feels it in the way Ilya presses against him, the way he himself holds Ilya close with no intent of letting him go soon.

Again, it's Ilya who breaks the silence. "Shane?", he asks, quiet and without a note of teasing in his voice. "Would you sing it to me? My song?"

And Shane has never been able to withold Ilya anything he asks for. Neither of them mention the fact that Ilya called it his song. After all, the song had been Ilya's long before Ilya had become Shane's.

Yuna goes in the ambulance with Ilya — Shane can't get out of his skates fast enough to run over in time, so he drives a few minutes behind them — and she calls Shane to keep him updated. It's fine, it's all fine, Ilya is already semi conscious and talking to them both. Shane's mind goes to all of the worst places anyway.

They lose service when they get in the elevator, but Yuna still sends out a text message with the room number. Shane speeds faster and then bolts through the hospital.

When he finally sees Ilya, minutes later, already in a blue hospital gown and connected to an IV but conscious and beaming up at him, Shane breaks into tears.

"Don't cry, solnyshko," Ilya says. "Come here," he holds out the hand that's free from the needles and Shane takes it.

"I have something important to ask you," Ilya tells him. It suddenly feels so serious. Shane's heart drops.

"Will you come to my cottage this summer?" Ilya says in a sing-songy voice, using his best Canadian accent. "Don't go to Russia. Come to my house, we'll have so much fun..."

Shane laughs. "You remember that?"

Cue Ilya making a rare appearance at Bood's Barbeque because it's the team's chance to meet little Milo for the first time. Everyone congratulates the parents and oohs and aaws at Milo. Cue Bood asking "anyone want to hold him?"

And Ilya is the first to volunteer, already reaching out his hands. And Bood, like any new parent, starts the "Alright here we go, now be careful to support the head-" only to trail off because Ilya does not need any help. For some strange reason, Ilya fucking Rozanov is a pro at holding a baby, murmuring to him in Russian swaying him softly in his arms.

The Groupchat ("CenBros NO CAP") goes wild because how the fuck is Rozy so good with babies. And then one of the rookies is like "maybe he has a baby??" and at first everyone scoffs because, hello. This is Ilya Rozanov we're talking about.

On second thought, though.

Ilya did move to Ottawa seemingly out of nowhere.

He did buy a house in the suburbs.

He is strangely secretive about who he's texting all the time.

He is skipping almost every team event.

Suddenly it all makes sense. Ilya has a girlfriend (wife??) and he moved to Ottawa for her so that they could raise their child together. And of course he's almost never attending a team outing or leaving early, he has a child at home! Of course he's secretive about it, Ottawa or not he's still Ilya fucking Rozanov, papped every second day. It only makes sense that he'd want to protect the identiy of his girlfriend (wife??) and child.

The final piece of evidence is overheard by Holmberg and Young on a random Thurday after practice. Ilya clearly hasn't noticed them as he walks to his car, a fond smile on his face and obviously focused on his phone call. "Goodnight, I miss you very much. I will be home soon", he says. It's followed by laughter and Ilya adding that "Yes, of course is necessary! I have been away all day, my daughter must hear me say goodnight to her."

Holmberg and Young (standing next to Young's car and therefore hidden from Ilya's view) stare at each other with open mouths and wide eyes. Because holy fucking shit Rozy just confirmed he has a daughter?? And based on the conversation also a girlfriend/wife??

Me 1 day later: I need to be left alone to gather the pieces of Me together