Chapter Text
Chapter 19: Dreams Are Here to Stay
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The hospital room is quiet when the pediatrician arrives.
Shane is sitting up in bed. Still sore, bruised, exhausted, but far more alert than he was a few days ago. Eliana is asleep against his chest; perfectly precious. One of Shane’s hands rests protectively over her back, the other is tangled with Ilya’s.
The pediatrician smiles. “She’s doing wonderfully.”
Shane immediately smiles back.
Of course she is.
She’s the best of us.
The doctor glances at the chart. “All her tests came back clear.”
Ilya visibly relaxes. “So she’s good?”
“More than good.” The doctor smiles. “She’s healthy enough to be discharged tomorrow.”
Shane blinks. “What?”
The doctor looks surprised. “Discharged.”
No.
No, that can’t be. It doesn’t make any sense.
Shane looks down at Eliana then back up. “But…”
The pediatrician’s expression softens. “Mr. Hollander—”
“I’m here.” The words come out before he can stop them.
“I know, but due to hospital rules—”
“So why would she leave?” His voice sounds strange. Thin, unsteady, like he’s trying very hard not to panic.
The doctor pulls a chair closer. “Because she doesn’t need medical care.”
Shane immediately shakes his head. “No.”
”Mr. Hollander—”
“I said no.”
The baby’s tiny body rises and falls against his chest. Safe, protected, where she’s supposed to be.
“She’s needs to stay with me.” The words are barely above a whisper.
The doctor hesitates.
Ilya goes very still beside him because suddenly this isn’t about hospital policy. This isn’t about logistics, this is about fear.
After the doctor leaves, the room’s tone shifts. Shane doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. Just keeps staring down at Eliana as if somebody might try to take her.
Ilya recognizes the look. The same one Shane had during ultrasounds, the same one he’d had after every doctor’s appointment, the same one he’d had after he’d woken up from the trauma of the accident. Terrified, omega instincts wrapped tightly around unconditional love.
“Shane.” Nothing. “Solnyshko…” Still nothing.
Finally, Shane looks at him. His eyes are shining and Ilya catches on.
Oh.
He’s trying not to cry.
“They can’t just send her away.” His voice cracks.
“They’re not sending her away.”
“That’s exactly what they’re doing.”
“No.” Ilya reaches for his hand. “They’re sending her home.”
Shane laughs bitterly. “I’m not home.”
The words hit like a punch, because that’s it. That’s the real problem. Shane isn’t going, Eliana is.
The next morning, Yuna arrives. David follows close behind. Both carrying enough baby supplies to survive a small apocalypse.
Yuna takes one look at Shane and her motherly intuition knows something is wrong. “Sweetheart?”
Shane doesn’t answer.
Yuna sits beside the bed. “Talk to me.”
Silence, then…
“I don’t want her leaving.”
There it is. The truth. Simple, raw.
Yuna’s entire expression softens. “Oh, honey….”
The endearment almost breaks him and suddenly he feels five years old, not twenty-eight. Not a professional hockey player, not a father, just scared shitless.
“I know she’s healthy.” His voice trembles. “I know it makes sense.”
Yuna reaches up and brushes his hair back, the same way she did when he was little. Every time he got upset whether it was due to eating the wrong texture of food, skinning a knee — her touch always provided a sense of comfort. “But?”
Shane looks down at Eliana who was completely unaware, suckling on a pacifier that the hospital had provided.
“I almost lost her, I almost died.” A pause. “I just…” His throat tightens. “I don’t want her away from me.”
Yuna’s eyes fill. “Oh, Shane…” She reaches for his hand. “Then we’ll bring her here.”
Shane’s breath hitches as he slowly tilted his head upwards to meet his mother’s gaze. “What?”
“Every day.”
Simple, instant, certain.
Yuna squeezes his fingers. “As long as the hospital allows it. It’ll give me an excuse to spend quality time with my granddaughter and for you to not miss out on so much.”
Shane stares at her. “You really would do that?”
David snorts. “Son…”
Shane looks over.
David gestures towards his wife. “Have you met your mother?”
A laugh escapes Yuna. “I was going to say the same thing.”
David shakes his head. “We’ll bring her, we promise.”
Shane finally feels something loosen inside his chest. Not wholly, but enough.
They ensured their promise. Every day, every single day Yuna and David arrive carrying Eliana.
The nurses begin expecting them. Several of them start stopping by just to see the baby. One even jokes that Eliana has become the most popular patient on the floor despite not actually being a patient. Shane secretly agrees because she’s amazing.
The days begin settling into a rhythm. Eliana arrives, the room brightens immediately. Shane holds her for hours. Breastfeeds her, talks to her, falls asleep with her against his chest.
Ilya takes approximately a thousand photos. Most of them terrible, all of them treasured.
One afternoon Shane wakes from a nap to discover Ilya photographing Eliana while she sleeps. “You have a problem.”
“No.”
“You absolutely do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’ve taken forty pictures.”
“Forty-two.” Ilya corrects.
Shane groans and Ilya keeps taking photos.
The hardest part is nighttime, always nighttime. Every evening Yuna is there after bringing his daughter, every evening Shane has to hand her over, every evening a tiny part of him breaks even when he knows she’ll be back tomorrow, even when he knows she’s safe.
The instinct remains.
Protect her.
Keep her close.
Never let her go.
On the fourth night, after Yuna leaves with Eliana sleeping in her carrier, Shane stares at the empty doorway for a long time.
It feels wrong. Too quiet, too empty, too still. Eventually he sinks back against the pillows. Exhausted, hurting, missing her already. Beside him, Ilya reaches across the gap between their beds and takes his hand. No words at first, just warmth, understanding.
After a few beats he exclaims. “You’ll see her tomorrow.”
Shane nods but his eyes still burn. “I know.… I miss her.”
The confession hangs between them. Small, honest, painfully human.
Ilya squeezes his hand, his expression softening. “Tomorrow isn’t very far away, moya Shayna.”
For the first time all evening, Shane smiles. Tired, real, and holding onto Ilya’s hand, astonished how he — in his chaotic, autistic, being; managed to land such an incredibly handsome, blue eyed, blonde curly haired Russian who every time looked into his eyes — looked at him as if he were the air in Ilya’s lungs, giving him life.
The reason why his heart kept beating.