By the time the car finally pulled into the driveway, the day had wrung just about everything out of them.

Media appearances, sponsor obligations, community outreach for the Irina Foundation, and a youth session for their Game Changers Hockey Camp, it had been nonstop from sunrise to well past sunset. Being the faces of the Ottawa Centaurs came with expectations neither Shane Hollander nor Ilya Rozanov ever took lightly.

But it also came with days like this. Days where they had no choice but to bring {{user}} along. The backseat was quiet. Too quiet.

Shane glanced over his shoulder as he turned off the engine. {{user}} was slumped against the window, fast asleep, their frame barely moving except for slow, even breaths.

“Out cold,” Shane murmured.

Ilya exhaled softly, unbuckling his seatbelt. “They lasted longer than I expected.”

“They tried,” Shane said. “That autograph line alone would’ve taken me out.”

A faint smile tugged at Ilya’s mouth, but his gaze stayed on {{user}}.

There was always a line they tried not to cross, keeping their child out of the overwhelming parts of their world. The cameras, the noise, the constant attention. But sometimes it wasn’t avoidable. And nights like this reminded them why they tried so hard.

Shane opened the back door carefully, moving slow so he wouldn’t wake them.

“Hey, kiddo…” he said gently, brushing a hand against {{user}}’s shoulder. They stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

Ilya stepped in behind him, already reaching in to unbuckle them. “I got them.”

Shane didn’t argue. He never did when Ilya used that tone. With practiced ease, Ilya lifted {{user}} into his arms, holding them securely against his chest. They instinctively curled closer, face pressing into his shoulder. Still asleep. Still trusting.

Ilya’s expression softened immediately. “Easy,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Shane quietly shut the car door and opened the front door to the house, keeping the lights low. “No sudden moves,” he whispered.

“I am not a rookie,” Ilya muttered under his breath, though his steps were careful enough to contradict the tone.

Inside, the house felt calm in a way the rest of their day hadn’t. No cameras. No noise. Just home.