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Babyspace is relatively rare for Shane. Even when he's regressed, he prefers to be in a state where he can play and let some energy out, and in babyspace Shane tends to not do a lot apart from sleep. And bite things. It just isn't Shane's favorite headspace; even if Ilya is absolutely obsessed with him. There must be at least two hundred pictures of baby Shane doing nothing but sleeping on Ilya's phone.
Sometimes, when he's had a taxing few weeks with hockey, it's just the most beneficial thing to do to sleep and regress at the same time, and that means babyspace.
After a brief conversation with Ilya the night before, they both decide that it's a good idea to do this day as a baby day for Shane. They've both got it free from practice, even during the season- they're flying out to Philly the next day for a roadie, but today is dedicated to just resting and recuperating. Which Shane is never going to complain to.
When he wakes up and feels that familiar fog settle over his thoughts, he doesn't fight it this time. This is the whole point of today. For Shane to give up control and be able to let Ilya make all decisions, which is probably one of the best ways for them both to have a mental break. Shane loves being able to not think and Ilya loves thinking for him. Perfect.
Shane, somehow, even with Ilya feeding him, ends up with half of his greek yoghurt down his top, which is precisely why Ilya never dresses him or baby Shane until after breakfast. Sitting on Ilya's lap, Shane gets fed bites of his banana and yoghurt between Ilya eating spoons of his own dry cereal. He doesn't need to think about anything apart from chewing and it's honestly blissful after the week he's had.
The sun from the big windows in the kitchen at the cottage is warm on the side of Shane's face as he eats, and it stays warming up his skin even when Ilya tuts playfully upon seeing the mess over Shane's chin and shirt. He's guaranteed to bring this up next time big Shane teases Ilya for being unhygienic when he leaves his dirty socks on the bathroom floor. Again.
“So messy.” Ilya murmurs, tilting Shane's chin so their eyes meet. Grinning, Shane reaches up one yogurt-covered hand to wipe his mouth. Ilya might have been feeding him but that certainly didn't stop Shane from sticking his hands in the pot to feel the texture. “Shane Hollander cannot get spoon in his mouth. I must let everyone know.”
While his face and hands are cleaned with a wipe, Shane occupies himself with desperately trying to grab at Bracken, one of his favorite stuffies when he's this young. The best thing about Bracken is that he's got two teethers in both of his hands, so he's not only a stuffie but also something Shane can chew on. Soft and chewable. What could be better?
Ilya huffs and tries to turn Shane in his lap, but he just whines and makes more insistent grabby hands for his toy. “Your hands are covered in yoghurt, мишка. Wait.” Ilya's voice isn't scolding but it is firm. Resigning himself, Shane lets out a long suffering sigh and turns away from Bracken, causing him to promptly forget about the toy altogether.
When Shane's in babyspace, if he can't see something, it simply doesn't exist to him. This does make him quite easy to distract, but it also makes him confused very quickly. One moment Ilya's beside him, and then he gets up and… gone. Shane can't even comprehend the idea that he's just in another room; in Shane's mind he's entirely disappeared. Object permanence is the big word for it, but Shane's supposed to be shutting his brain off today, so…
He can't dwell on it for too long. Instead, he busies himself with pouting and pulling a face while Ilya cleans up his mouth and chin.
With clean hands and a clean face, Shane chews on one of the teethers attached to Bracken while he's carried to the bedroom. Ilya helps him change and brushes his teeth (or puts toothpaste on the brush and sticks it in Shane's mouth for him to chew) and then Shane's set for the day.
The clothes aren't the most comfortable. Once he's set down on a blanket in the lounge, Shane promptly pulls off his t-shirt and forgets about it as soon as he's thrown it somewhere on the other side of the room. Ilya sighs somewhere behind him.
Shane doesn't give that much thought. Honestly, baby Shane doesn't give many things much thought. He sits with his legs out in front of him and stares at his socked feet, occasionally wiggling his toes, while Ilya gets out some toys for him. The blanket underneath him feels nice. Palms down, Shane rubs his hands over the texture to feel it, humming lowly. Nice.
“Silly Shane.” Ilya coos as he comes to sit behind Shane on the blanket, easing Shane back against his chest. Obviously he can sit up on his own but he still appreciates Ilya's support. The contact is nice, too, especially when Ilya pats Shane's bare chest gently. “Where is your shirt? I thought you like ones with animals on.”
Oh, yeah, Shane had been wearing a shirt. God knows where that went when he threw it. He shrugs and turns slightly in Ilya's arms to see him, eyes flitting between both of Ilya's.
“Yes, hello.” Ilya doesn't break eye contact. It's not often that Shane chooses to stare directly into Ilya's eyes- especially not when he's regressed this young- and it's obvious Ilya doesn't want to discourage it.
Wiggling, Shane smiles. “I'ya.”
“Shane.”
“Shane.”
Quietly, Shane repeats his own name in what is sort of Ilya's accent as he turns back round to pat the blanket in front of him. Echoing Ilya's accent is probably one of his favorite things to echo. Even if Shane doesn't talk that much in his baby headspace- not thinking also includes not thinking about what to say- he does enjoy babbling simple words sometimes.
Ilya kisses the side of Shane's head, and he can feel Ilya's smile. “Yes, Shane, is you.” He tips out the box of blocks that he'd bought over onto the blanket in front of Shane, being careful not to disturb his sensory seeking where he's rubbing his hands around.
Immediately, one of the blocks goes into Shane's mouth.
“No, no, мишка, how many times did we talk about this! Blocks do not go in mouths.” Ilya tickles Shane's bare sides lightly, and Shane drops the block to wiggle and laugh at the feeling. The blocks never feel that good in his mouth, anyway. “Where is… oh, here.”
Something prods against Shane's lips. Automatically, he opens, and Ilya slides a pacifier into Shane's mouth for him to chew and suck on instead.
They sit quietly for a while. Shane makes the occasional sound and explores with the blocks, piling them up and giggling when Ilya reaches around him to dramatically knock one of his towers down. Ilya is fun to play with. It's not like Shane really engages much when he's this young, but he's still fun.
Still, it only takes Shane about half an hour of simple playing with the blocks to get sleepy. He's halfway through a yawn, his pacifier half out of his mouth, when Die Young by Kesha starts blasting from one of the other rooms in the cottage. Ilya's ringtone. Ilya immediately curses under his breath and shoots up off the floor, kissing the side of Shane's head a few times before he goes.
“Wait there, Shane. I will be back.” Ilya reassures, and then he's gone.
If he was big, Shane would probably remember about the appointment Ilya had made at the doctors about some physiotherapy for his knee, and he'd also remember about how hard that appointment had been to get the last three times he'd tried. When they call, Ilya has to answer, or they won't call again for a few weeks and Ilya's knee is really starting to hurt him when he's on the ice.
But Shane doesn't remember that, because he isn't big.
Shane's got one block in each hand as he watches Ilya leave, and then Ilya's gone and he isn't there anymore. Where did he go? He must've gone forever. Maybe Shane was too loud, or too quiet, or Ilya really, really wanted him to keep his shirt on and he took it off anyway and now Ilya doesn't love him anymore.
Where did he go? Where did he go?
Shane promptly bursts into tears.
Ilya doesn't return to the room immediately, and that really solidifies to Shane that he's never coming back. He keeps crying. Shane's pacifier falls out of his mouth as he sobs and then that's gone, too, and he whips his head around a few times to try and look for Ilya more. Maybe he's just hiding.
Instead, his eyes land on Bracken. Shane grabs him and sniffs, backing himself up against the side of the couch and chewing on one of Bracken's teethers for comfort. He rubs the fur of one of the ears over his cheek, scrubbing at his wet eyes with a balled up fist. Why would Ilya leave him? Did he do something wrong? Where did his pacifier go?
Shane isn't sure how long he cries, but when Ilya comes back he's running and there's snot and tears all over Shane's face.
“Oh, no, Shane.” Ilya's back in his eyeline then, and Shane's face lights up immediately and he starts crying more as he's pulled up into Ilya's arms. Breathing becomes a little hard when Shane starts hiccuping, but he's just so glad that Ilya's back that he can't help it. “Is okay, is okay, мишка. Is okay. I am so sorry, I should have my phone in this room. Shh, shh.”
Shane drowns Ilya's voice into one long stream of comfort as he hiccups and sobs into his shoulder, Bracken clutched in one hand and Ilya's shirt in the other. He's being carried, which is good because he's not sure he could stand up if he wanted to. Strong hands are under his thighs and Shane feels safe again.
Eventually, once Shane has calmed down enough to not be struggling to breathe, Ilya sits down on the couch and gets Shane settled in his lap, straddling his thighs. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table to clean up Shane's face. There's a damp patch on Ilya's shoulder where Shane's tears have soaked in, but he doesn't seem to have noticed.
“I am so sorry, my Shane.” Ilya presses a kiss to Shane's forehead once his face is clean. “So sorry. I love you so much, yes? Never leaving my baby ever again.”
Sniffling, Shane nudges his head back into the crook of Ilya's neck. “I’ya.” He mumbles.
When Ilya guides Shane's face out of his neck, it's to carefully press a pacifier into Shane's mouth. He kisses his forehead another few times and bounces one knee- his good one- to make Shane smile.
“All okay?” Ilya checks, and his face is still a little worried. His eyebrows are all screwed up and Shane reaches out with one slightly damp hand to smooth the wrinkle over with his thumb. Fumbling, he almost misses and pokes Ilya in the eye, but Ilya just turns his face to kiss Shane's palm anyway.
“Mm.” Shane hums his affirmative. The crease in Ilya's brow smooths out.
“Am so sorry, Shane.” Ilya repeats.
“I’ya.” Shane copies, mumbling around the pacifier. Leaning forward, he presses the button of the soother messily to Ilya's cheek.
That does get Ilya to laugh. Shane makes a mental note to ask Ilya how the phone call went when he's big again, and if he finally got the appointment with the stupid doctors. It'll be before their next game, hopefully, but Shane highly doubts it. For now he just wiggles slightly, a little bored and still quite tired.
Ilya gets the hint. “Yes, what were we doing? Is it time for nap?” He asks, reaching out to wipe his thumb gently under Shane's eye, where there's some lingering dampness.
Yeah, it's definitely time for a nap. As long as Ilya stays there, Shane would do anything.