Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Airplane Crashes, Emergency Landing, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander leads a charge of WAGS, WAGs | Wives and Girlfriends (Sports RPF), Outing

Language:

English

Series:

Part 3 of Everyone Finds Out Eventually (Standalone Fics)

Collections:

Hollanov Plane Crash, Heated Rivalry fics I like, my fav gay hockey players

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-23 Words: 2,281 Chapters: 1/1

Run Toward Me

Summary

The Centaurs’ plane makes an emergency landing in Ottawa, and in the moments before impact, Ilya calls Shane thinking it might be the last time they ever speak.

While the world waits for official updates, Shane races to the airport and finds the other WAGs trapped behind police barricades, watching smoke rise over the runway. The moment the players emerge alive onto the tarmac, Shane is the first one over the barrier.

Notes

I could not get this image out of my head, so please enjoy my version of Shane rushing to reunite with Ilya after his plane crash.

“Would you chose me?!”

“I already chose you!” Ilya’s face was a painting of pain and agony.

The words rattled around Shane’s head for days following their fight. He had tried calling, texting, but Ilya didn’t pick up his calls. After Shane’s tenth text, Ilya finally texted back,

I need space. Please.

Guilt and anxiety gnawed at Shane as he had no choice but to accept that Ilya didn’t want to talk to him. That he might have ruined everything. That he might have lost the most important person in his life.

The worst part was, Ilya was right. Shane had been too blind to see how much Ilya had given up to fit himself into Shane’s life. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t still terrified of what giving Ilya what he wanted. Shane knew the culture of his locker room. If he announced his relationship with Ilya, if they came out… He knew it would be bad.

Shane sighed as he pulled up his phone again, checking to see if there were any new notifications. He sighed. Nothing. Well, nothing from Ilya. His mom had sent him a contract for a brand deal to review. He sent her a quick reply back before double checking Ilya’s flight details.

Ilya had to go on the road the day after their big fight and had been away for a string of away games for the last eight days. He was coming home today. His flight was supposed to get in at 2pm. It was 11am.

Shane felt a twitchy anxious feeling. He was half tempted to drive to the airport to pick him up. Eight days had been long enough. But they didn’t do that. They didn’t pick each other up from the airport. They waited for each other at home. For their private reunion. 

Anxiety and doubt gnawed at Shane. Would Ilya even come home? He hadn’t spoken to him in eight days other than to ask for space. Which Shane had given to him. Did he still need space?

Shane had three hours to kill, so he funneled his anxiety into going on a long run and pushing himself in his workout before attacking the kitchen with a cleaning ferocity that was entirely unnecessary considering it was already clean.

Shane showered and collapsed on the couch, surrendering to the next hour of waiting until Ilya came home. Or didn’t. 

Shane was scrolling instagram on his phone. Ilya was supposed to be landing soon. Shane tried to push away the feeling of dread as 2pm neared.

Shane’s phone buzzed in his hands. An Instagram message. Shane couldn’t help the flutter of excitement when he saw that Ilya had messaged him. His phone buzzed several times in quick succession as Ilya’s messages flooded in.

You are the best thing in my life.

I love you. Always. Maybe from the first time I saw you. 

I am thinking only about you right now. A million memories. Thank you for those.

Whatever happens, I am with you. Safe in your heart. I believe it.

Shane is pretty sure he wasn’t breathing. He was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating. He was pretty sure that gravity had ceased to exit.

Shane’s hands were trembling as he typed back. What’s happening? You’re scaring me.

Nothing. Ilya didn’t type back. 

Shane called him. Ilya answered. Immediately Shane knew something was wrong. He could hear screaming on the other end. Not Ilya. Ilya wasn’t screaming. But his voice was thick with tears when he breathed into the phone, “Shane.”

“What’s happening?” Shane asked urgently.

“Plane,” Ilya said. “There is a fire.”

Shane couldn’t see. When did the world go blurry? 

“Ilya,” Shane whined. 

“я тебя люблю,” Ilya cried.

“I love you too,” Shane responded through his own tears.

“I–”

Shane waited. Silence. “Ilya?”

Nothing.

“Ilya!”

Shane looked at his phone. Call ended.

Shane redialed.

“This is Ilya, I will never listen to your voicemail.”

“No!!!” Shane screamed into the empty home. 

He redialed.

“This is Ilya, I will never listen to your voicemail.”

His breaths were coming in rapid bursts. His hands were shaking so bad he dropped his phone. He dropped quickly to pick it up again. It was his only tether to Ilya.

Shane’s entire body trembled as he quickly shoved his sneakers on and grabbed his keys. 

The Ottawa airport was a thirty minute drive with no traffic. Twenty-two minutes later, Shane was approaching the turnoff for the airport. 

Shane felt like someone had dropped a bowling ball on his stomach when he saw the plume of smoke. No. 

Shane had to crawl through the traffic that had slowed down around the airport. As he inched forward, emergency vehicles screamed past him in the emergency lane.

Desperation led Shane to pull out and follow an ambulance, knowing that it would be going where he was going. To Ilya. Shane sped through emergency lanes, following the ambulance until it emerged into a larger parking lot clearing.

There was a police barricade, which allowed the ambulance through. An officer stepped in front of Shane’s car with his hands out. “You can’t be here! Turn around!”

Shane pulled his car haphazardly to the side so that it was out of the way of emergency vehicles that needed to get through. He got out of the car.

“Please! I know someone on that plane!” Shane pleaded to the officer.

“The area isn’t secure. We need to let the emergency workers do their job. Family can wait over there.” The officer gestured to an area where a few anxious looking women were waiting behind a police barricade.

Shane went over to the area indicated.

There were two women who were in various states of panic.

“Come on, pick up, pick up,” one woman said into her phone before cursing and turning to the other woman. “Anything?”

The other woman shook her head, lowering her phone.

“Cassie!” A cry shouted from behind them. The women and Shane turned to see another woman jumping out of a car without bothering to close the door.

“Selena!” The woman, Cassie apparently, cried. 

The women hugged tearfully. “Do you know anything?” Selena asked.

Cassie shook her head. “They won’t tell us anything. And I can’t reach Zane. Have you been able to reach Nick?”

Selena shook her head. “No, I just saw the news and I’ve been trying to call non-stop but he’s not answering. Do we know what happened?”

“There was a fire,” Shane croaked out. “On the plane.”

The women looked at Shane in surprise, finally registering his presence. Wide eyes and slack jaws greeted him.

“Ilya managed to get a message out. I was able to call him before…” Shane’s throat closed up with tears he was trying hard not to shed. “But the call dropped and I haven’t been able to… I can’t reach him now.”

Cassie seemed to be running through some quick calculations as she considered Shane’s obvious distress before she reached out a gentle hand and placed it on his arm. Acceptance.

“Cassie! Selena! Lisa!” a woman shouted, running to join them. A string of abandoned vehicles were starting to clutter the lot.

“Caitlin!” Cassie shouted, releasing Shane from her attention.

Another round of questions were had, in which no one had been able to get ahold of anyone on the plane. 

Caitlin turned in surprised at Shane. “Shane Hollander?” she asked.

“He’s with us,” Cassie said firmly, in such a way that left no room for questions.

Caitlin blinked at Shane before turning to Cassie with a firm nod.

The group was distracted as news vans started pulling in. The women strategically placed themselves around Shane to obscure him from view, which he appreciated, though he was too anxious to really care if anyone saw that he was there. Nothing mattered except Ilya. Who was alive. He had to be. Shane refused to live in a world where Ilya didn’t.

He strained his neck to try to see anything. Wherever the plane was was obscured from view by a short building that stood in their way. But they could see the smoke rising. Ambulances and fire trucks were allowed onto the runway.

“Please, can you tell us something? Anything? Who’s hurt? Is anyone dead?” Selena started pleading with the officer who was stationed in front of their barricade.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t know anything yet. I promise as soon as we have gotten everyone off the plane, we will work as quickly as we can to get you more information and set up an area for you to be reunited with your loved ones. But please, be patient.”

Selena reached out and grabbed the hand nearest to her, which happened to be Shane’s. Shane glanced over at her. His teary eyes met hers. He squeezed her hand back and together they turned to look over the open tarmac, waiting.

Ten minutes later, Lisa was shouting and pointing, “There!”

A few bodies could be spotted in the distance, shuffling slowly into view around the blind spot of the building. They had blankets wrapped around their shoulders.

“Oh my god, Nick! NICK!!!!!!”

“There's Evan! EVAN!!!!”

“NICK!!!”

“ZANE!!!!”

“Oh thank God, Wyatt! WYATT!!!”

Shane’s heart was in his throat as his eyes strained, waiting to see that familiar head of curly blond hair.

The women around him started pushing against the police barricade and the police officer was gently pushing them back. “Please, stay back. Let us do our job.”

There! Shane spotted Ilya’s familiar mop of curls as he emerged into view, blanket loosely wrapped around his shoulders.

“Ilya!!!” Shane screamed. Shane vaguely registered hands pushing him back, away from the police barricade he leaned against.

A lifetime of hockey muscle memory activated as he shoved the police officer away and vaulted over the barricade. And then he was running.

“Come on,” Shane vaguely heard one of the women shout, maybe it was Cassie? He heard the slap of many footsteps behind him.

“Hey, stop! You can’t be back here!” the police officer screamed as he tried to chase Shane. But Shane was faster. 

“Ilya!!!” Shane screamed, yards of tarmac disappearing beneath his sneakers as he sprinted toward Ilya. He was still so far, Ilya didn’t hear him. He hadn’t turned. “ILYA!!!!! ILYA!!!! ILYA!!!!”

Behind him, further back, Shane heard a chorus of names join his shouts.

“EVAN!!!!”

“WYATT!!!”

“ZANE!!!!”

“NICK!!!!”

Shane, at the front of the charge, could see when their shouts started to draw the attention of the confused Centaurs. Heads started to slowly turn toward them. Ilya’s head turned.

The rattled players watched in stunned confusion to take in the most bizarre sight of Shane fucking Hollander leading a charge of WAGs and a few panting police officers in their direction.

“ILYA!!!!” Shane screamed at the top of his lungs, running faster than he had ever run in his life.

“Shane?” Ilya called back, stepping forward out of the group, his hand loosening its grip on the blanket draped around his shoulders.

“ILYA!!!” Shane shouted back.

“Shane!” Ilya cried.

“Ilya!” Shane cried out before he barreled into Ilya, only just managing to slow his pace enough to not topple them both to the ground. Ilya stumbled back a few steps, absorbing Shane’s force, wrapping his arms fiercely around the love of his life that he thought he would never see again.

“Zane!” Cassie’s shouts were getting closer.

“Cassie!” Boodram shouted, jogging forward to receive his wife, who had been hot on Shane’s tail.

“Zane!” Cassie screamed as she slammed into Boodram, his arms wrapped around her, lifting her up off her feet to catch her momentum and swung her around in a half circle.

“Evan!”

“Caitlin!”

“Nick!” 

“Selena!”

“Wyatt!”

“Lisa!”

Shane barely registered the other reunions that were happening around him. All his attention was on the man in his arms. Shane sobbed in Ilya’s arms.

Shane pulled back and grasped Ilya’s face in his hands, looking him over for any sign of injury.

“Am okay,” Ilya said.

“You’re okay?” Shane asked, his voice wobbling.

“Am okay,” Ilya confirmed.

Shane crashed his lips against Ilya’s, grounding himself in Ilya’s aliveness. Ilya’s arms tightened around him. They clung to each other and kissed each other desperately.

Shane vaguely heard a few muttered reactions from players who weren’t in the middle of a reunion.

“Whoa.”

“Damn.”

“Oh shit.”

“Fucking knew it.”

Finally, they broke apart. Shane looked into Ilya’s eyes and told him through his sobs, “I choose you. Always you. I can’t live without you, Ilya.”

Ilya’s face softened and he reached up to wipe the tears from Shane’s freckled cheeks. “я тебя люблю.”

“я тебя люблю,” Shane said back. “So much. I love you so much, Ilya.”

Ilya cradled Shane’s face in his hands and brought him in for a firm, but tender kiss. As they lingered in their kiss, Shane vaguely registered the shutter sounds of many cameras. He didn’t care. Not when Ilya was alive and in his arms, kissing him.

The photograph capturing Shane Hollander leading a charge of WAGs past panting police officers toward a huddle of confused Centaur players, standing in stunned silence wrapped in emergency blankets while fire trucks worked to extinguish the burning airplane behind them, was on the front page of every newspaper the next morning. Beside it ran another photograph: the five couples locked in desperate embraces, with Shane and Ilya right at the front, their reunion captured for the entire world to see.

And now the world knew that when Ilya Rozanov survived a plane crash, there was someone who would run through police lines and across an active runway just to reach him.