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The centaurs got into the locker room looking as they were, defeated by Montreal. Not only that, but Shane got inside with a paper towel on his bleeding nose. Everyone was pissed, and the mood was on edge, and it exploded the second Haas entered the room, followed closely by Rozanov. The second he closed the door, Ilya slapped the back of Haas's helmet, pushing him.
“What the fuck, Haas?”
“I’m sorry!”
“I hope your ass is sorry,” Ilya said, starting to take off the equipment angrily.
“It’s ok, Ilya.”
Shane was sitting on his locker, looking to see if his nose was still bleeding. Hayes gave him another piece of paper and looked at his nose with a scrunch of his own.
“Next time you get into a fight, just try not to get Hollander punched in the face. What the fuck happened there?” Ilya screamed at the young player.
“They called us the Ottawa faggots.” Ilya looked at him, still waiting, and when Haas didn’t continue, he raised his hands.
“They call us faggots all the time! You shouldn’t care! Hit the showers, Haas.”
“Yes, Dad.”
He said mockingly, and Ilya threw his glove towards the blond kid, but Hayes picked it up mid-air and threw it back to him, falling on his feet. Bood patted Ilya’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. He pointed at the room, and everybody was moody and serious. Holmber brown’s were scrunched close. Young was struggling to take off his skates. Ilya took a deep breath and kept talking loudly.
“Listen, Hollander, he called me dad,”
“I was joking!” Haas screamed from the showers.
“I’m a father figure. When are you going to make me a dad, Hollander?” Shane looked at him, extremely confused, and muttered ‘What the fuck’ while the others giggled.
“I don’t think he can do anything for you, captain.” Chouinard chuckled as he took off his shirt.
“We are on the road all the time. No time for kids, and let’s discuss that in private, ok?”
Shane passed by his side, throwing the paper towel in the trash can. Ilya stopped him for a second to look at his nose. The mood lifted for a second; probably, Ilya brought up the topic to make the guys smile.
“That’s not a problem. I can take a season off.” Everyone looked at him, and the room fell silent.
“Wait, what?” Hayes said. “You would take a season off?”
“Of course! You wouldn’t?” Ilya answered, offended. There was an awkward silence. “Oh, so you are tolerant of the gays, but not with the woman. Ok. Nice. I will have a chat with your wives.”
“I… Ilya, you are the captain. We have to plan this.”
Bood interrupted, standing between Shane and Ilya, extending his arms filled with tattoos.
“What’s to plan?!” Shane asked, confused.
Ilya moved towards Bood and talked with him as if Shane was not there, or as if Bood was part of the decision. He was very confused about why they were having this conversation as if it were a team issue.
“I leave for a season. Shane is your alternate captain. You terribly lose for that season, then I come back and we win again. It’s easy.”
“Oh, you think we would lose. You asshole.” Shane crooked his head, but then remembered what they were talking about. “Anyways, that’s not the point, what's after that? We are going to travel with a baby?”
“We have Yuna, maybe a babysitter to help her.”
“There is the centaur family group…” LaPointe said, and a group of dads nodded.
“Yes, Selena and Caitlin moved in together at my house during February, so they could manage the kids when we were out for almost three weeks,” Chouinard explained. “One kid more, one kid less… I don’t think it’s going to make a big difference.”
“That’s why we have all our kids in the same school and kinder. We help each other with pick-ups.” Boyle spoke this time. “My twins are besties with LaPointe kid, so we babysit some weekends and go on family dates.”
“Why didn’t I know about this?” Ilya was perplexed that there was a whole shadow network, and he was not a part of it.
“Because you don’t have kids!” Bood said, laughing. “So don’t worry. We know it takes a village, but Shane… you have a village. If you guys want kids, why should it be later for you? Why wait?”
“I don’t recommend having kids old. Those little bastards drain your energy.” LaPointe added, and all of them mumbled confirmations in some way.
“So we should just find someone?” Shane asked, refusing to agree with anything.
“Oh, no, Svetlana is on it. I already talked with her.”
“What?!”
“Svetlana, Boston Bears Manager. Good russian genes, Sergei Vetrov’s daughter. She doesn’t want children, but she would help. She wants to be the cool aunt.” Shane had to sit.
“A Boston Bear baby! Ilya… come on, don’t.” Bood interjected.
“You want Svetlana to have your babies,” Shane said, looking at nowhere in particular.
“I want Svetlana to have your babies.”
“Oh! Sergei Vetrov’s? Damn, good genes, indeed. I approve.” Dykstra added.
“What approve?” Shane couldn’t believe the conversation that was happening.
“We are having a baby!” Dykstra hollered, and someone whistled and applauded.
“But, why mine? Aren’t you friends with her?”
“Why the fuck would I want my genes to spread?” Ilya said with an awkward laugh.
“I would like!” Shane said without thinking. Bood grabbed Shane’s shoulders with a broad smile that said it all. “Yes, but… It’s scary.”
“I know, but… it would also be very nice. Isn’t it?” Bood finally said.
“We got you, captains. Let’s have a baby, Hollander.” Boyle said, hugging Ilya's shoulders.
“This is ridiculous…” Shane finally smiled, his face in between his hands.
“Am I having a little brother?” Haas said, coming from the showers, picking up his glasses.
The whole team looked at Shane, expectant.
“You didn’t say no.” Ilya kneeled in front of him, took Shane's hands, and kissed his fingers.
“Ok," Said Shane, deliciously defeated. "Let’s have a centaur baby.”
The press room was filled with photographers and sports reporters, waiting for the words of the team after the fight that had happened on the ice, which left Hollander with a bleeding nose.
“Welcome, everybody,” Wiebe said. “This match has been hard for the team, especially for Hollander, so please, be kind. Ok? Here they come.”
“SHANE, SHANE, SHANE, SHANE!”
A big group of centaurs entered the room, smiling, shouting, hollering, hugging a smiling Shane Hollander, who could barely sit without falling, surrounded by his village.
“Hello, everybody. Any questions?”