Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Cliff Marlow, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike, Hayden Pike's Children, Boston Bears | Boston Raiders Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros Team Ensemble (Game Changers), J. J. Boiziau, Svetlana Vetrova

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Hospitals, Hospitalization, Coma, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Scared Ilya Rozanov, Hockey, Coming Out, Love Confessions, Car Accidents, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Good Parent Yuna Hollander, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt Shane Hollander, No beta we die like Grigori Rozanov, Sex, Crying, Injured Shane Hollander

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-08 Completed: 2026-02-21 Words: 56,378 Chapters: 13/13

So Much Of You Is Left Behind

Summary

Loud beeps from his phone startled Ilya, and he slowed down, reaching for the device he’d put on the bar between his legs. Jane. He smiled to himself when he saw the notifications, and, checking Marlowe was absorbed in his own fitness, opened it quickly, smiling in anticipation of Shane's words.

The smile was wiped off his face almost instantly.

The blood drained from his face, and Ilya felt like the bottom had just fallen out of his world.

*****

Maybe he was naive, but Ilya always thought he had time. Time with Shane. Time to tell him what he truly meant to him.

That, somehow, one way or another, Shane would always be there.

But a text message late one night threatens to destroy the future that Ilya has spent the time carefully constructing in his mind.

Maybe Shane wasn't always going to be there. That Shane would be cruelly snatched away from him before he had a chance to be honest.

That he would be left behind. Alone.

Notes

I was so excited about this one, and I figured the best way to get it done was to start posting.

I really hope you enjoy this one. it'll hurt for a while, but I promise, there's a happy ending. I couldn't do anything but.

Make sure you have 'Creator's Style On' if you're reading on Ao3 so the text messages show up properly! I have coded it so they can be read on an ereader as well, so fingers crossed it all works okay.

Enjoy!

Cx

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Notes

Shane

The club music pulsated loudly around Shane, almost in a way that was overwhelming. There was a reason that he often chose not to go out when the opportunity arose, but there was something about the way Hayden asked him tonight that made Shane agree.

If Shane was honest with himself, he knew it had been a weird few months in his life. Yes, he was still playing hockey, and he was still the best at it. He scored goals, he was a great Captain for the Metros, and he was a good son to his parents. But then there was Ilya. Things between them had changed them lately, and Shane couldn't put his finger on how or why it was. He had no idea how to deal with it, and it was driving him to distraction at times. He'd only agreed to go out tonight because he needed to clear his head, and maybe going out with his best friends could help him escape the prison of his mind, even if it was only for a few hours.

“I fucking love kicking Guardian ass,” J.J. said with a grin, downing yet another shot. Shane had had less than him but still felt buzzed, so he couldn’t begin to imagine how J.J. was feeling, at least six drinks in. “Love seeing Cole's sad old face.”

Shane bit back a remark that he sounded like Rozanov with that sort of age related quip, choosing to pull his phone from the pocket of his jeans. He and Ilya had been messaging each other all night. Ilya was currently in New York, getting ready for a match against the Admirals the next day. It had been three weeks since they'd last seen each other, the time where everything had felt different. Shane desperately wanted to talk about it, but didn't know how to initiate a conversation like that over the phone. Seeing Ilya face to face wasn't going to happen against for a few more weeks, and the distance was becoming too much.

“You’ve been on that bloody thing all night,” Hayden quipped, and Shane rolled his eyes, quickly shoving the device back into his pocket. He’d excuse himself to the washroom soon enough, mentally composing the messages he wanted to send. The words he truly wanted to say would be left unspoken, as always. “So. I guess I wanted to tell you guys something.”

Dread suddenly filled Shane’s veins, and he shivered, like he’d been plunged into an ice bath. “You’re not leaving the Metros, are you?”

“Fuck no!” Hayden said so vehemently that Shane immediately felt calmer. “I could never, dude. This is my home, you know that. But, uh…”

“Spit it out,” J.J. snapped, a lot less patient than Shane when he was sober, so being snappy when drunk didn’t surprise Shane in the least.

“Jackie’s pregnant.”

“Again?!” Shane blurted out before slapping his own hand over his mouth. “I mean, congrats man, that’s awesome news.” He quickly pulled Hayden into a hug, mentally staggered that his best friend, who was his own age, was already on his fourth child. Shane could barely look after himself some days. “Wow, four kids. You’re crazy.”

“I know. Somedays I think I’m fucking nuts. But Jackie, man, she’s… she’s just the best. I can’t resist her.”

“Clearly,” J.J. said with a smirk, but Shane could see the fondness in his eyes. “Good news that your swimmers still work, though.”

Shane took advantage of the mock headlock Hayden pulled J.J. into to slip off to the washroom. He nudged his way through the crowds and breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into the cooler washroom. He leaned his palms on the cool enamel of the sinks and took a few deep breaths. Hopefully he could slip off home soon.

Now alone, he pulled his phone from his pocket, smiling at the fact there were 4 unread messages there from Lily. Lily, or Ilya, who he’d been hiding for too long now. Ilya, who he felt more for than he could bring himself to admit to anyone, even himself. Ilya, who he was almost certain he was in love with. And that thought? That was terrifying. Shane didn't know what to do with a feeling so big, so all encompassing .

Shane swallowed heavily, wondering if the way his heart rate had sped up at words from the man he was sleeping with was a normal reaction. He shouldn’t feel this way, not about the man everyone knew publicly to be his rival. Still, Shane allowed his mind to drift, imagining that he could do something as simple as go home to Ilya, to spend a night together, relaxing. It felt a million miles away.

It was only a few seconds before his phone buzzed again.

The next message was a picture, showing just how excited Lily was at the thought of being able to talk to Shane soon. This was familiar territory, and Shane just smiled, sending a winking emoji back. He locked his phone, using the facilities before he headed back outside. It was getting a bit late for Shane, tiredness truly setting in after the physical game they'd played just a few hours ago and he found J.J. and Hayden on the dance floor, both holding their drinks above their heads.

“I think I’m gonna head out soon, guys,” Shane yelled, trying to be heard over the volume of the dance music. “Been a long day.”

“I might join you. Jackie hasn’t been feeling great, morning sickness all times of day…”

“I go clubbing with old men,” J.J. grumbled, shaking his head almost mournfully at them. “Fine, you go. I will be staying out. Goodnight!”

Shane stayed long enough for Hayden to finish his drink, and he couldn’t deny the relief he felt as they pushed their way out of the doors of the club and onto the street. It was a typically cold Canadian night, but Shane almost couldn’t feel anything. Together, he and Hayden walked down the street, waving at a few people who recognised them but thankfully, they weren’t asked for photos.

“So… how do you feel about baby four?” Shane asked, sensing Hayden wanted to talk about it a bit more now that they could talk more easily.

“Excited, of course,” Hayden admitted, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. “But also… nervous? Does that make me a shit husband?”

“It makes you human,” Shane said, stepping towards Hayden and nudging him gently. “Have you told Jackie about it?”

“Yeah. She feels the same. It doesn’t make any sense as we’ve done this twice before, we know how it goes. We can raise babies with our eyes closed. But it’s doing that with three toddlers…”

Shane nodded, wishing he could understand just how that felt. Not that he could do anything about that, certainly not with Lily. Ilya, he mentally corrected himself. “I mean, of course it’s a lot. But you two have each other, and your parents are always around. You can call me too, if you need a break, or someone to watch the kids for a while. I’m always here for you, both of you, Hayd.”

Hayden nodded, refusing to look up, and Shane could tell he was more affected than he’d care to admit. “Thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”

They walked along but when the rain started, they cursed, and Shane quickly grabbed his phone, ordering an Uber that was thankfully only two minutes. They sheltered underneath an awning as the sky opened fully, drenching every surface in sight in seconds. There was something calming about the rain that Shane enjoyed, the petrichor somehow familiar and grounding around them.

“Was it a blue Audi we're getting?” Hayden called, almost inaudible over the thundering of the rain on the plastic above them. Shane nodded, eyes finding the car pulling up at the kerb. “”Let’s make a run for it!”

They both swore loudly as they darted out from the shelter and into the torrential rain, heading for the car. Shane ran around the back and quickly slipped into the backseat. Shane immediately hated the way his soaked shirt clung to his chest and stomach, but he pushed away the feeling of discomfort, greeting the driver.

“Hey, can we drop my friend home first?”

The driver agreed, and Shane gave him directions to Hayden’s place before he sat back, pulling his seat belt across his body.

“Have you guys had your scan yet?” Shane asked as his phone trilled loudly, making both of them jump. “Shit, forgot I turned it off silent, sorry.” He glanced down, unsurprised to see it was Ilya messaging him again. He was about to open the messages when he felt Hayden glancing over at his screen.

“Lily again? When are you going to make an honest woman of her, hmm?”

“Hayd, come on-”

“I’m just saying, man. It’s been years. It would be nice to meet her.”

“You wanna meet Lily?"

Hayden had never suggested anything like this before, and it felt odd to Shane to hear Hayden wanting to connect with that part of Shane's life. It couldn't happen, of course it couldn't, but that didn't stop an unknown feeling running through Shane at the thought of introducing Hayden to the man he- to Ilya.

“She obviously means a lot to you, to be texting you after all these years. You look happy when you’re messaging her. It’s nice to see, Shane. Just… you can talk about her, if you want to. I honestly don't mind.”

Shane wished more than anything he could confide in Hayden about his- well, whatever he and Ilya had. But there was no way he could. Everyone thought he was straight. Everyone thought he hated Ilya Rozanov. Neither of those statements were remotely true. And he didn’t even know how to begin telling a single person, not even his best friend, about how he truly felt about Ilya, never mind the fact that they’d been sleeping together for years.

“Maybe one day,” Shane said, trying to move the conversation swiftly along. “So. Scan?”

“We have one booked in next week, after the game in Ottawa,” Hayden admitted. “Did you wanna come and watch the kids for us? If we ask my parents, they’ll ask where we’re going, and I’m not ready to tell them just yet.”

“Course I will,” Shane agreed, always happy to spend time with the children he considered to be his own nieces and nephew by now. He had no siblings, so it was probably the closest he’d get to having children, until he had his own, anyway. “Just text me and let me know when, I’ll be there.”

Silence fell in the car as the driver joined the main roads, not too much traffic on the road. The rain, though, was relentless, and seemed to get heavier, the windscreen wipers working quickly to dispel the water. Soft music played from the radio, and Shane just stared out of the windscreen until he saw Hayden pull his phone out of his pocket, starting to text Jackie, and he decided to text Ilya while he had a moment to himself.

His stomach turned over as he sent the message, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Maybe the few drinks he’d consumed had given him a bit more courage than he usually was able to muster.

Shane smiled, tapping out a quick reply. He hit send just as everything exploded around him.

Ilya

Ilya let out a sigh, bored out of his mind. He’d spent too long sitting in the room of his hotel before he jumped to his feet, quickly stripping off and getting into his workout gear before he stormed out of his room, banging loudly on the doors of his teammates, telling them they needed to join him for a gym session.

Marlowe was the only one to agree, unsurprisingly, and Ilya had waited for him in the corridor, texting Shane as his teammate changed into something more suitable for the gym. They’d walked down to the gym and were pleased to find it empty, given it was already gone eleven at night.

Ilya knew that the only outlet for when he was feeling like this, like he was crawling out of his own skin, was getting physical. Sometimes, that meant going out and finding a man or a woman and hooking up. Taking them back to his hotel room and pounding away at them until he had no more thoughts left in his head. Trouble was, it hadn’t been that for a while. He’d tried. But when the person looking back at him didn’t have stupid freckles, or ridiculous beautiful brown eyes, Ilya wasn’t interested.

Not that he could admit that to anyone. Nobody could find out that the only person he’d had sex with in over six months was Shane Hollander. That the only person he wanted to have sex again with was Shane Hollander. It didn’t make sense, and as much as Ilya had a feeling he knew why, it was hard to admit. He’d never felt like this before. And he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Hey, you okay?” Marlowe asked as he set up on the treadmill next to Ilya. Ilya just nodded and immediately set a punishing rhythm, feet pounding on the belt as he focused only on the way the muscles of his legs were working, almost screaming out in protest at the lack of warm up. “Fine. I’m here if you want to talk, Cap.”

Ilya appreciated his friend. Marlowe was probably his closest friend on the Raiders team, but still, he knew he couldn’t confess anything to him about what was truly going on in his head. How his mind was constantly a whirlwind of Shane Hollander, and the feelings he had for the hockey player that he shouldn’t have. He didn’t know how to tell Shane. If he should even tell him. If it would ruin everything.

When he’d had enough of running on the treadmill, he walked over to the benches, piling on the weights he knew were at the limit of what he could lift safely. He checked his phone before he laid down, getting into position. He could see Marlowe hovering nearby, obviously not trusting that his captain was in a good frame of mind for this right now.

Ever since Shane had sent that text asking to talk, Ilya’s mind hadn’t stopped. Hadn’t given him a moment of quiet. He was terrified, if he was being honest. Terrified that Shane wanted to end whatever this was between them. Terrified that he was going to be alone again. Terrified that Shane was going to destroy him with just a few words. No one had ever had this amount of power over Ilya before, and it terrified him.

But he still couldn’t push away the tiny glimmer of hope inside him that insisted that this could be a good thing. That maybe, just maybe, Shane felt the same way he did. That Shane wanted more than just illicit meetings in hotel rooms, snatched moments, stolen kisses and fucks that they both pretended meant nothing more than scratching an itch. Maybe, just maybe… he could have everything he’d ever wanted.

The chances of that, though, felt slim. He gripped the metal bar and lifted it off the rack, grunting at the sheer force being placed on his chest. It was almost too heavy, but Ilya gritted his teeth, forcing his arms up, letting them lock before Marlowe helped him pull it back, the bar clattering back noisily into place.

“Enough, hey? We don’t want you to get hurt before the game tomorrow. We need you.”

Truthfully, Ilya couldn’t give a shit about the game or the team right now. Not when it meant it would be weeks before he could have a chance to talk to Shane face to face, to find out what he wanted. But nobody knew his inner turmoil so he just nodded, following Marlowe to one of the rowing machines. He knew that this was one of Shane’s favourites in the gym, and he settled down, pushing his feet into the small stirrups.

He and Marlowe began a good rhythm, back and forth as music played around them. His arms were aching, and his legs were already aching, but it was something for Ilya to focus on, and he welcomed the uncomfortable feelings. The gym was in the basement of the hotel, not disturbing anyone else, and Ilya was glad for the peace and lack of eyes on him. As much as he loved his job, being recognised everywhere he went was exhausting, and sometimes he missed a life of anonymity.

Loud beeps from his phone startled Ilya, and he slowed down, reaching for the device he’d put on the bar between his legs. Jane. He smiled to himself when he saw the notifications, and, checking Marlowe was absorbed in his own fitness, opened it quickly, smiling in anticipation of Shane's words.

The smile was wiped off his face almost instantly.

The blood drained from his face, and Ilya felt like the bottom had just fallen out of his world.

Chapter End Notes

More soon... xx

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

Ilya comes to terms with the news and makes his way to be by Shane's side.

A surprising message tells him more...

Chapter Notes

Eek. Sorry about the cliffhanger in chapter 1.

I hope you like this one.

So much more to come!

The air in the gym felt like it had disappeared. Ilya was struggling to breathe, and his head started to spin. His hands shook as he reread the message over and over, hoping that it was just a mistake. Shane couldn’t be hurt. Not his Shane. Quickly, he stumbled to his feet, nearly face-planting the gym floor when his shoe got caught in the stirrup of the machine.

“Fuck-”

“Rozy? Is everything okay? Hey! Rozanov!”

Ilya ignored the call of his teammate as he frantically text back, message after message, but no reply came. He saw that they were delivered but the usual three dots that followed never appeared. Ilya pushed down the sick feeling in his throat as he hurried out of the gym, needing to get out of the gym and out of here. Out of New York, right now.

He didn’t have time to wait for the lift, and took the stairs two at a time, his thighs burning when he hit the fifth floor. One to go. He could hear footsteps behind him and had no doubt that it was Marlowe following him, but he had no words, nothing that could describe how he was feeling.

His room was halfway down the corridor, and Ilya moved as quickly as he could, pushing the door open, ignoring when it ricocheted off the wall behind it, feet thumping on the floor. He tried to dial Shane again but the call just went straight to voicemail. Shane’s voice filled Ilya’s ear, and he wanted to be sick. All he could think was that he needed to hear that voice again, to know what was happening.

This was the stuff of his nightmares. Something happening to Shane, and Ilya not being any the wiser. Except, maybe this was more cruel. He now knew something had happened, but he had no way of knowing what, if Shane was okay, if he was alive. Marlowe was still yelling his name down the corridor, never mind the people who might be trying to sleep, but Ilya couldn’t focus.

He fumbled with the keycard, dropping it several times before fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding it still.

“Hey, let me, okay?”

Ilya nodded and let Marlowe insert the card into the lock, the light going green before Ilya barged inside. He quickly started to strip out of his gym gear, throwing it haphazardly into the suitcase he’d tugged out from underneath the bed. He grabbed a fresh t-shirt and jeans, pulling them on quickly.

“Hey, Rozanov. What is going on?”

That voice was new. Ilya turned and saw Coach standing there, hands on his hips. He was wearing pyjama bottoms and a Raiders hoodie, but there was a look of concern on his face. Ilya knew his behaviour was out of character but he couldn’t say anything that would explain his actions.

“I have to go.”

“Go? You can’t just go, we have a game tomorrow. You’re the Captain. Rozanov, this isn’t funny.”

“I am leaving,” Ilya repeated, zipping his case shut quickly. He yanked his phone charger out of the wall and shoved it into his backpack, along with the book he was reading, and the bottle of water on his bedside table.

“This is going to be a big fucking problem,” Coach said again, this time looking a little less sympathetic. Ilya glanced over to Marlowe, and the man must’ve sensed Ilya needed help, because he came over, resting his hands on Ilya’s shoulders.

“You need to talk to us. Tell us what you need, why you need to leave.”

There was nothing else he could do. Ilya reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. He knew there was no chance that either Marlowe or Coach would guess that he was texting Shane Hollander from what he was about to show them, they were careful. They had other contact names in their phones, never used names to each other in messages. But it still felt alien to Ilya to hold out his phone, letting Coach and Marlowe read the words Shane’s phone had automatically sent him.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, Rozy, go. You need to be there.”

“Where is this?” Coach asked, looking concerned now. “Montreal?”

“Yes,” Ilya replied tightly, locking his phone and returning it to his pocket. He was very glad at that moment that some of the team already knew about Montreal Jane. They may not know the whole truth but enough that it was plausible that Ilya would need to get there urgently. “I need to go and see… I need to be there.”

“We’ll cover for you,” Marlowe said easily, lifting Ilya’s bag onto his shoulder. “Won’t we, Coach?”

“Of course. Go, Rozanov. Just let me know how things are when you get there.”

Ilya nodded, and followed Marlowe, who was already leading the way out of the room. Ilya knew he wasn’t coming with him, he had no bags, but it still felt odd to not be alone at a moment like this. He’d always been alone, until he had Shane in his life, anyway. He’d truly been alone since he’d lost his mother at twelve years old, and his father and brother had been completely useless to him since then.

The two men were silent in the lift, but Ilya felt restless. He knew the drive from New York to Montreal was going to take something hideous like six hours, having done it plenty of times before, but it would give him something to focus on. He opened the map that Shane’s phone had automatically sent him along with the notification that there’d been an accident and he clicked on it, waiting for it to load into his Maps app. When it had, Ilya zoomed in, seeing it was only around ten minutes from where Shane lived. That being said, he had no idea where he’d be taken. Would it be Montreal General Hospital? Would it be something more specialised if things were bad?

Not knowing anything was sending Ilya spiralling, and he stopped where he was, leaning up against the wall. The brickwork pressed against his back, and he allowed himself to slide down, head bent over his knees, his breaths coming out shakily. It took a few minutes to Marlowe to realise that Ilya wasn’t with him, but when he did, he hurried back over to his Captain, dropping the rucksack hanging from his shoulder and crouching next to him.

“That’s it, breathe in and out with me,” Marlowe encouraged, and for the first time, Ilya didn’t shit talk the man trying to help him. He felt a hand rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades, and he allowed his eyes to close, letting himself picture Shane’s face, how it had felt to fall asleep with him the last time they’d been together, how beautiful Shane had looked even in the throes of sleep. “Shit, man, I’m so sorry.”

“It is not your fault,” Ilya let out, his voice low and gravelly, full of emotion.

“No, I know, but… I’m sorry we didn’t realise how much she meant to you.”

“Who?”

“Jane,” Marlowe replied, and Ilya just nodded, confused by the use of a female pronoun for a moment, his entire brain consumed with thoughts of Shane. “I wish you’d told me more about her. Maybe when she’s out of hospital, when you know she’s okay, you could bring her here. Introduce us.”

That was never going to happen.

“Maybe,” Ilya agreed, knowing it was easier than protesting. All he wanted was to get on the road. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Look, are you sure you’re okay to drive? It’s a long way, and it’s late…”

“I need to be there,” was all Ilya could muster, and Marlowe just nodded. They’d reached Ilya’s car by now, and he cursed the fact he hadn’t bothered to fill up with fuel earlier on, just determined to get back to the hotel. “Thank you, Marlowe, for support.”

“Let me know how she is, please? And don’t worry about the team or the game, I’ll sort it all out. Don’t even give it a second thought.”

Ilya didn’t know how to tell him he didn’t get a flying shit about the game, but he nodded gamely, like it meant something to him. Yes, he loved hockey, but if he had to choose between Shane and the game, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that it would be Shane every time, even if it cost him everything.

Calmly, Ilya opened the boot of his car and threw his suitcase inside, letting Marlowe stash his rucksack beside it. He closed the door with a slam, and walked around, opening the driver side door. He hovered, finally working up the courage to meet Marlowe’s eyes.

“Thank you. Goodbye, Marlowe.”

He was surprised when Marlowe pulled him into a hug, and it was all Ilya could do to not cry. He breathed in deeply and released it slowly, willing the tears he could feel burning in his eyes not to fall. He pulled back and clapped Marlowe on the shoulder before he hurriedly sat down behind the wheel, letting his teammate close the door behind him.

He set up the in-car sat nav to get to Shane’s home, not that anyone but him would know that was his destination. He didn’t know where else to go but for now, that felt like it might be good enough. At least there, he would be surrounded by Shane’s things, and at least in the same city as him, until he could find out more information and actually get to Shane.

Ilya pressed the accelerator and the engine roared into life. Marlowe stepped back, and finally, Ilya inched the car backwards, keen to get on the road, aware that every moment he was wasting was a moment away from Shane. The garage was quiet as Ilya drove out, and indicated, pulling onto the quiet road outside. The weather in New York was bitterly cold, which thankfully meant less people out in the middle of the night, and Ilya hurried along, desperate to get to Shane, even if it was going to take the best part of the rest of the night to get there.

Around fifty miles into his journey, Ilya pulled into a fuel station, knowing that he couldn’t afford to play chicken with his car, not tonight. The forecourt was absolutely freezing, and Ilya cursed in Russian as he pulled the pump to his car, jiggling himself side to side to try and keep warm as the wind wrapped around him. When he had finished, he stalked over to the small store, buying a couple of energy drinks to keep him awake, and some of the god-awful protein bars Shane snacked on when he was on the road.

“That’s seventy eight dollars- holy shit, you’re Rozanov.”

“I am. I pay by card, please.”

“Wow, I’m such a huge fan. I mean, I’m an Admirals fan, obviously, but you’re awesome! You’re in my, like, top five of players-”

“Thank you. I pay now, please.” Ilya set the items in his hands down heavily on the counter, hoping the young man behind the counter would realise he really wasn’t in a mood to talk.

That hope faded fast.

“Hunter is my favourite, he’s fucking awesome on the ice. Then it’s you, then Shane Hollander, of course-”

The name made Ilya’s head snap up, and he met the eyes of the man in front of him. He clenched his hands into fists to try and channel his anger, knowing the boy was just a fan, but still, he had no time to waste.

“I am sorry, but I am in hurry. Please can I pay.”

“Uh, sure,” the boy replied, cheeks flushed red, no doubt embarrassed by Ilya’s short attitude with him. “Just… tap your card.”

For a moment, Ilya felt bad, and as he tucked his card back into his wallet, he sighed, realising he couldn’t leave it like this. It wasn’t this man’s fault that Shane had had an accident, that he had somewhere else to be right now.

“I will sign something for you,” Ilya said, and it was worth it when a grin lit up the other man’s face. He quickly scrawled his signature of a bit of till roll the man handed over, and shook his hand, thanking him before he snatched up his items and walked out. He threw the items onto the passenger seat and started the engine, pulling out onto the empty road quickly.

The hours passed by too slowly for Ilya. It was the middle of the night, and it was hard to focus, to concentrate and keep awake so Ilya opened the window, being blasted with cold air and the horrible noise that came with travelling at speed. He didn't dare put on music, terrified that a song that reminded of Shane would play, that he’d dissolve into a mess and not make it to Shane in one piece. That couldn’t happen.

The sky was dark, and a few hours later, the rain began to fall. It wasn’t too bad at first, but soon became heavier, giving Ilya no choice but to start to slow down, not able to risk getting in an accident himself. The only other vehicles on the road at this time of night seemed to be trucks transporting goods, and emergency services. Seeing them made Ilya’s palms sweat, and he wiped them hastily on his jeans, focusing only on running down the miles.

Five long, dark hours later, Ilya was pulling into the city of Montreal. He’d easily crossed the border, more than familiar with the process having done it countless times to visit Shane when he had free weekends during the season, and he felt slightly calmer as things became more familiar to him. The sun was also slowly coming up, and he pulled up to a red traffic light, moaning as he stretched out his tight back.

Usually, when he visited Shane, he stopped halfway for a break, having something to eat and drink at a truck stop, but not tonight. Not when Shane needed him. As he drove further into the city, the traffic started to build up, and Ilya cursed, turning off and heading towards Shane’s home. For a while, they’d spent time in a building that Shane had bought just to hook up in, but eventually, Shane had decided he could let Ilya see his own space, his first night there being one of the best nights Ilya had ever spent with Shane.

Ilya could pretty much ignore the navigation as he got closer to Shane’s place. He hadn’t been there regularly, but Ilya paid enough attention that he knew exactly where he was going. The sky was turning from black to blue as he finally pulled in outside Shane’s home, deciding he would park his car in the driveway.

He hadn’t thought about the fact that perhaps Shane’s parents might be there but thankfully, it seemed he was the only one there. Shane’s car was still there, meaning he’d probably gotten a lift to the rink last night with Hayden or J.J., and slowly, Ilya stepped out of his car, groaning as his legs and back protested at the sudden stretch.

Not wanting to be noticed just yet, Ilya reached back into the car and grabbed a black baseball cap and shoved it onto his head. He left everything except his phone in car and walked up the few steps to Shane’s door. He had given him a key the last time Ilya had come after one of Shane’s matches, and thankfully, he hadn’t bothered to give it back just yet. He slotted the key into the lock and turned, letting out a sigh of relief when the door swung open.

He disabled the alarm with Shane’s code, 1410, and kicked off his shoes, unable to break a habit even when Shane wasn’t here. The place was strangely quiet, and Ilya padded through the familiar hallways, coming to a stop in the kitchen. It was clean and tidy as always, and Ilya grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water from the fridge, gulping down two glasses. He hadn’t wanted to drink much on the road so he didn’t have to stop, and now his body was craving food and fluid. The thought of food, though, turned his stomach.

As Ilya collapsed on Shane’s sofa, exhausted and aching everywhere, he turned on the TV. It appeared that news of the accident hadn’t hit the news stations yet, and he flicked back and forth to make sure before he turned it off, Shane’s home turned silent again. He felt useless, knowing no information, and he got to his feet, pacing nervously back and forth again, checking his phone to see if Shane had been in contact.

He hadn’t, but there was a new message that he hadn’t noticed before. It was from an unknown number, and Ilya’s shaking fingers opened it, hoping it was some sort of news. He didn’t expect the words that he read.

Ilya let out a broken gasp, reading the words two, three times before they sank in. He knew of Shane’s father David, had seen him at enough games and galas that he could picture the man in his mind. He couldn’t imagine how Shane’s parents were feeling, but he was grateful David had followed through with these orders that Shane had left. Ilya realised he had nothing similar in place in case of an emergency for him, and vowed to fix that with Svetlana when he had the chance.

Ilya tapped out a reply, sending it, pleased when it turned to ‘read’ almost immediately. He pondered for a brief second over whether to sign it with his name but decided against it, not knowing if Shane had even told his parents about Lily, or if that was something only Hayden and a few Metros players knew about. He waited with bated breath while three dots appeared on the screen, then a message arrived in reply.

Ilya felt the hot tears falling down his cheeks before he even realised he was crying. The thought that Shane was in such a critical condition made him feel sick, and he stumbled to his feet, barely making it to the kitchen sink before he emptied the little food he had in his stomach. Images flooded his mind and he struggled to push them away, knowing he needed to see Shane for himself, right now.

Shane’s bedroom was just down the corridor and Ilya quickly cleaned the sink before he hurried there, pulling off the clothes he’d been wearing all night, throwing them in Shane’s hamper. He raided Shane’s wardrobe, grabbing a pair of jogging bottoms that were a bit baggy on Shane, followed by a blue Metros tshirt and a black hoodie of Ilya’s that Shane had not so sneakily stolen around a year ago. He pulled it on, and breathed in, smelling Shane’s familiar scent deeply embedded in the fibres.

It didn’t take long for Ilya to head back out and drive to the hospital, pulling into the car park a short while later. It was busy as usual, and Ilya drove a few laps before he finally saw a driver leaving, thanking the man with a raised hand before he swung in. His heart was racing, and he shook as his phone pinged, silently praying it wouldn’t be bad news before he looked down, seeing a news alert.

It was a gossip outlet, stating hockey players Shane Hollander and Hayden Pike had been involved in a car accident the night before in Montreal. There were a few pictures of the wreckage, and Ilya swallowed down the bile he could taste before he threw up again. He quickly clicked off the images, not wanting to see those, not until he knew Shane was okay.

He hadn’t known that Pike was involved in the crash as well, and he wondered about the state of him, thinking of Pike’s wife and children. He wondered briefly if they were there at the hospital too, if he’d have to see them as well as the Hollanders. Ilya didn’t care, though, not now. Not when he had to be there for Shane.

Taking a deep breath in to steady himself, he stepped out of the car, pausing as his trainers hit the ground below. It was cold and wet everywhere, Ilya’s breath coming out as steam. He picked up his phone and opened the text thread with David Hollander, tapping out a quick message.

Ilya ensured his phone was on silent as he walked across the car park, looking at the enormous building. He’d never been here before, with Shane never having gotten into any bad scrapes on the ice before, thankfully. Nothing that couldn’t be sorted by the team physicians, anyway.

With a deep, steadying breath, he stepped inside, ready to find Shane.

Chapter End Notes

More to come tomorrow...

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

Ilya arrives at the hospital, and he realises he has to get through David and Yuna Hollander in order to see Shane.

They're shocked to see him, and Ilya has to convince them he's there for the right reasons.

Then finally, he sees Shane. And he breaks.

Chapter Notes

I am entirely overwhelmed by the reception this has received. I'm currently writing Chapter 6 so there is much more to come, and I'll keep trying to post daily as much as I can.

I hope you enjoy this update. Lots more tomorrow.

Thank you for all your kind comments and messages. It means a lot to me.

Critical Care Unit. Even the name scared Ilya. He’d managed to get through the hospital relatively unnoticed thanks to the early hour of the day, and was now hovering outside the doors of the unit. It was terrifying, standing here and not knowing anything. He had no idea just what he was going to find when he walked through those doors, when he saw Shane. He knew he was shaking but he couldn’t help it. The only person he wanted to talk to was apparently in critical condition somewhere down the corridor.

Finally, after minutes of just standing there, Ilya reached up and pressed the button of the intercom. It buzzed several times and Ilya shifted from foot to food, nerves beginning to take over. There were signs taped to the door stating only family members were permitted to enter the unit, and Ilya panicked, knowing there was no way he’d make that list for Shane.

“Critical Care Unit.”

“Um,” Ilya began, his mouth dry, the first words he’d spoken in hours coming out hoarse. “I am here for patient in room fourteen. Hollander.”

“Are you family?”

Ilya paused, deciding he’d come this far, so he might as well go on. The worst had already happened, so he nodded before speaking. “Yes. I am.”

A few seconds passed, and Ilya let out a sigh of relief as a buzz sounded, the door unlocking. He pushed the right side door open and stepped through, letting it close softly behind him. There was something eerie about this place. Ilya had always hated hospitals, and this reaffirmed just why. There was a strange, antiseptic kind of smell and all he could hear were multiple beeps, doctors and nurses walking around with sombre expressions, crying family members in the corridor, comforting each other.

The room numbers started low, and Ilya carefully walked along, quietly relaxing as he realised no one was paying him any attention. They were all fighting their own battles, and he got closer to room fourteen, his heart rate quickened, his hands starting to shake again. His head was swimming, thoughts spiralling out of control. He hadn’t eaten anything since dinner earlier that night, and it had only been a measly salad, a light meal like he always ate pre-game night. His lips were dry, he was thirsty and everything felt off.

His phone was vibrating like crazy in his pocket, but Ilya ignored it. There was no-one he wanted to hear from just now. The lights in the corridor were low, and Ilya let out a shaky breath, quickly inhaling again. His chest felt tight, and the room around him started to spin. He stumbled, knocking his shoulder painfully into the wall, realising what was happening.

He’d talked Shane down from enough panic attacks that he recognised the signs. He’d never fully experienced one himself, even though what had happened in the car park with Marlowe had come close. He began to panic more, his breath coming in shallow gasps, eyes wide and desperately looking around for help.

“It’s okay, just breathe slowly,” came a soft, female voice to the side. His eyes darted to the right and saw navy scrubs, a hospital ID badge pinned to the chest. He scrambled for a hand and clutched it tightly, pleased to feel the touch reciprocated easily. “I’m Lydia, I’m a nurse. I’m going to help you to sit on the floor, okay? Keep breathing with me, in and out…”

Ilya allowed the nurse to get him onto the floor, letting her manoeuvre his legs so they were straight out in front of him. She crouched down in front of him, encouraging him to look into her eyes. They were the opposite of Shane’s, bright blue, but Ilya focused hard, trying to listen to her words, the soft cadence of her voice reassuring him that he was okay, that he was safe, that she wasn’t leaving.

His mind was suddenly filled with awful images of Shane trapped in the wreckage of the car, crying out for Ilya, alone, frightened. He screwed his eyes tightly shut and tried to push them aside, trying to force happier memories to flood to the surface. He was terrified about what he was going to be confronted with when he saw Shane, whether he’d still look the same, whether he’d even recognise Ilya. It seemed a ridiculous thing to worry about, but all Ilya wanted was to hold him and tell him he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere and for Shane to want him to stay.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Ilya to get his breathing and heart rate back under control, and he relaxed only when the nurse lifted her hand to his wrist, using the small watch on her scrub top to count the beats of his heart, nodding when she was pleased it had slowed.

“Well done. Keep breathing slowly for me. How are you feeling?”

“Stupid,” Ilya admitted, raking a shaky hand through his curls, his cap forgotten on the floor beside him. He felt a lone tear snake down his cheek, and he hurried to wipe it away before any more could fall. He didn’t cry, certainly not in public and in front of strangers. Tears were for the darkness, for solitude. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. It can be hard being here. Are you visiting a family member?”

“Um, sort of,” Ilya admitted, still not knowing how to classify whatever he and Shane had going on, but he knew there was nowhere else he wanted to be. He had to see Shane. “I think… room fourteen?”

The nurse nodded, turning her head slightly and indicating up the corridor with her small hand. The way she was sizing up Ilya let him know she knew just who the patient was in that room, and that she was surprised to see him there. Still, her professionalism took over and she answered him. “Just up there and on the left.”

Ilya got to his feet carefully, everything feeling a little slower now. He watched a harassed looking doctor walk past them quickly, and he sighed in relief as he went into one of the rooms on the right side of the corridor. Not Shane’s. He allowed the nurse to guide him there, nervously waiting outside the door, unsure he should go in. He knew Shane was on the other side. In what state, he didn’t know. But he was there, with his parents..

Parents who didn’t know about him, or about Shane. About their… situation. Fuck. This was wrong. Ilya had no place here. He didn’t belong here. Shane wasn’t alone, that was the most important thing. He had people who loved him. Ilya would just ruin everything. He was no use here.

“I should go, I don’t…” Ilya started, and the nurse frowned up at him, confusion crossing her face. “I will leave. I am sorry, I-”

He turned to leave, but just as he did, he heard the door open. Ilya looked up to see David Hollander standing there, looking like he’d aged a decade since Ilya had seen him in one of Shane’s instagram photos just last month. He looked utterly bereft, and Ilya’s heart broke a little more. It was seconds before their eyes met, and Ilya knew there was no turning back now.

The door closed before Ilya could get even a glimpse of Shane, and he stood still, unsure what to do. The nurse must have sensed something was amiss as she walked away, leaving Ilya and David alone. Ilya felt angry that the first time he was meeting Shane’s parents had to be under these circumstances, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

Eventually, their eyes met and David sighed, rubbing his palms over his weary face. “It was you. Shane gave me your number.”

Ilya couldn’t bring himself to speak, but he nodded, confirming that yes, he’d been the one David had been texting earlier on.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” David just shook his head again, a weary expression crossing his features.

“I will explain. Later. But I need to please see-”

“Yuna… Shane’s mom. She isn’t going to take this well. I think you should leave, Mr Rozanov. I’m sorry.” There was no malice in David’s tone but his words broke Ilya’s heart. He’d driven over six hours for this, turned his back on his team, on everything that meant something to him, to be here for Shane. He didn’t regret a single second of it but he knew he couldn’t leave now, not when he was so close.

“I cannot leave. Please.”

“Just for now. Let me talk to her, I think-”

“I need to see that he’s alive. Please, I’ve come from New York-”

“Rozanov, I don’t know…”

Something inside Ilya broke then. He knew David was struggling to comprehend this, that his son’s rival was here, looking broken at the thought that Shane was hurt. That, for some reason he didn’t understand, his son had given him Ilya Rozanov’s number with an order to contact him if something happened. And Ilya Rozanov had come without question. Nothing made any sense.

“Please, Mr Hollander. Your son is my-” Ilya paused, his voice cracking. He sniffed and took a deep breath before he spoke again, deciding he had to be completely and utterly honest, secrets be damned. His voice was wobbly in a way he’d never heard it but he carried on.

“Your son is my person. Shane did not just change my world. He is my world. He is my everything. Please. Please let me see him.”

The men stared at each other, and Ilya’s eyes didn’t waver. He knew he was crying, that tears were tumbling down his cheeks now but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when everything hinged on this. He didn’t want to get aggressive, to force his way inside, but he would if he had to. He had to see Shane, no matter what.

It was torture, watching a carousel of emotions move across David’s face. There was shock, confusion, surprise. There was disbelief. But finally… acceptance. It was like he could see the words Ilya still hadn’t been able to say out loud on his face, and slowly, David reached out, resting a hand on Ilya’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Just… let me talk to Shane’s mom. I’ll get you in. Please just wait? Give me a few minutes. I’ll come back, I promise.”

Ilya nodded, knowing it was the least he could do right now, no matter how desperately he needed to get inside that room. He wanted to reach out, to hug David Hollander and thank him, but he settled for mumbled words of thanks, stepping back as David walked back into the room.

He walked a few steps away, trying to distract himself. He knew Yuna still had the power to refuse him entry if she really wanted to, but he could only hope that David was able to talk her down, to make her see that Ilya was there because Shane meant something to him. That her son was so special to him. He’d tell her so, if he had to.

His phone vibrated again, and Ilya pulled it out of his pocket, seeing a few messages from Marlowe. He quickly replied, saying he’d got to Montreal safely, that he’d be in touch when he could, leaving it deliberately vague for now. He had no idea if his teammate had seen the news about Shane and Hayden and put two and two together, but right now, he didn’t care.

There was another message from Svetlana, asking where he was, why he hadn’t called. He cursed in Russian and replied to her, saying there’d been an emergency, that he’d left, that he didn’t know when he’d be back. She didn’t know about Shane, but she knew there was someone in Ilya’s life that he cared for. He had an idea she might even know it was a man, but she hadn’t pushed him on it. Not yet, anyway.

When he finally looked up from his phone, he saw Yuna Hollander standing opposite him, the expression on her face so like Shane’s it made Ilya shiver. Her shoulders were hunched, her hair scraped back into a ponytail, wearing one of Shane’s hoodies, one Ilya recognised. Her face stayed stoic, and Ilya stepped over slowly, hoping his expression said more than his words could.

“I thought that Shane had someone in his life,” she began, her voice wobbly. Up close, Ilya could see her eyes were red-rimmed, still shining with tears. Usually, Yuna was so well turned out, glamorous and beautiful, but right now, she had a haunted look on her face. Ilya couldn’t begin to imagine how she must be feeling, seeing her only child that way. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I know. I… will explain, later. But…”

“You’re his rival,” Yuna interjected, shutting down Ilya’s attempt at begging, and he nodded quickly, agreeing. It was true, on the ice, Shane was his greatest rival, but not only that, he was the only player who challenged Ilya and made him a better player. He could tell Yuna that later, though. “He hates you. You’re, just, what-”

“I do not know how Shane thinks of me,” Ilya began, English words coming slowly to him, something he hadn’t struggled with in years. “All I can tell you is I am his. I have always been his. My heart is only his.”

He felt tears fill his eyes again, and this time, that look was reflected back at him in Yuna’s eyes. Much to his surprise, the woman surged forward and pressed onto her tiptoes as she hugged him close. Ilya buried his face in her neck and gritted his teeth, willing himself to hold it together, just for a few more moments. Almost as quickly as it had begun, the hug stopped and Yuna pulled back, wiping her eyes on her sleeves.

“Please allow me to see him. Please.”

Without any words, she stood to one side, and gestured at the door. Her eyes never left Ilya as he stepped forward, his heart rate rising as he realised this was it. This was the moment he was going to see Shane, to truly find out how he was. Ilya was terrified.

Ilya’s lower lip trembled as he nodded his thanks. All of a sudden, he wanted to turn around and walk away. This felt like too much. He didn’t know what to expect, had no concept of what he could be walking into, and this felt like a lot. He wished that he didn’t have to do this alone, but the only person he wanted right now was on the other side of this door.

David joined Yuna outside the room now, clutching onto her hand as the pair watched him, waiting for Ilya to go inside. It was an enormous gesture, one Ilya was certain he’d never find the words to thank them for. He stepped forwards again, letting his fingers wrap around the door handle. As he pressed it down, his eyes closed, taking a deep breath before he opened them. A sob escaped his lips as he saw the sight before him.

Shane was laying in bed, but it wasn’t Shane. Not the Shane he knew, not the Shane he had spent so many hours with. Not his Shane. His Shane was full of life - an enormous talent on the ice, an amazing lover when he was in Ilya’s bed. Nothing turned Ilya on like watching Shane skating circles around him on the ice, making him harder, faster, better than anyone else was ever able to. Shane lit him up inside like no-one else, and Ilya was addicted.

But this version Shane? This Shane was broken.

Shane’s body was covered with a blanket up to his stomach, but what was exposed was bruised and broken in a way Ilya had never seen before. He’d seen hockey injuries, many of them, including broken bones but this was something else, something beyond anything he’d ever witnessed. A trembling hand covered his mouth as he dared to step closer, almost in disbelief at what he could see. Where before there had been unblemished golden skin, there were now bruises, cuts, tubes, sensors littering Shane’s body.

Ilya lifted his eyes and allowed himself to finally look at Shane’s face. There was a large breathing tube coming out of his mouth, a machine breathing for him to the side. There were more tubes up Shane’s nose, taped into place against his skin, and Ilya’s fingers itched to pull it off, to make all of this go away. His eyes were taped down, and there were bloody dressings at Shane’s temple, no doubt masking more serious injuries. It was horrific, unlike anything Ilya had ever seen before. His Shane was unrecognisable.

There were sensors over his chest, measuring whatever the doctors were monitoring, and slowly, Ilya’s shaking fingers reached out, brushing the skin of his chest. He was warm, but unlike when they’d been together before, there was no reaction to Ilya’s touch.

A chair sat abandoned at Shane’s bedside, and Ilya walked towards it carefully, like any noise might disturb Shane. Slowly, he lowered himself into it, and looked at Shane’s left hand. There were cannulas in his arm, in the back of his hand. Dried blood pooled around them and Ilya looked away, hating this more with every new thing he uncovered. But Ilya couldn’t not touch. Gently, he lifted Shane’s hand just enough that he could slip his own underneath, holding on tightly. He allowed the weight of Shane’s hand to push his into the bed, and he curled his fingers around, gripping on tightly.

And finally, for the first real time since the message from Shane’s phone, Ilya could no longer keep his pain inside. The tears came slowly at first, thick and burning, blurring his vision as his breathing began to hitch. Each sound that escaped him was loud and unguarded, dragged up from somewhere deep in his chest where the pain had been sitting, waiting. He wept quietly, helplessly, as the mask of grief he’d been steadfastly holding in place slipped and then fell away entirely, leaving him more bereft and broken than he’d ever felt before.

Chapter 4

Chapter Summary

Ilya realises the reality of the situation.

The Hollanders have some questions...

Chapter Notes

My gosh, I can't believe how much people have loved this. Wow. We really love to see these boys go through it!

Enjoy. Still so much more to come. Thank you again for all the comments and kudos!

Ilya wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, hunched over at Shane’s bedside, crying against the bruised skin of Shane’s hand, the only part of him that Ilya dared to touch. The body that was so usually open and exposed to Ilya suddenly felt so offlimits, and Ilya felt thrown by it. Their whole dynamic had shifted exponentially and Ilya was struggling to ground himself in it. The sheets around Shane’s resting body were sodden with his tears, and Ilya ached from head to toe. He eventually sat up, not letting go of Shane’s hand as he wiped his eyes on the bottom of his hoodie, his skin raw from crying.

He allowed his eyes to move over Shane again, the sight less harrowing somehow now he knew what to expect. Carefully, delicately, with a shaking hand, Ilya allowed himself to stroke over Shane’s bare chest, gently rubbing the pads of his fingers over his bruises, like he could take away some of his pain. He’d seen him bruised from hockey before, where he’d been slammed into the boards, or been hit by a stray puck, injuries they were used to dealing with day to day - they signed up for that, they knew it was part and parcel of the sport they loved. But this was so much worse.

Ilya’s fingers traced over his skin, slow, hesitant, almost afraid of what they might uncover. Usually, Shane shivered at Ilya’s touch; he arched his back, he begged softly for more. But now… now there was nothing. No sharp inhale of breath, no shiver, no recognition at all. Nothing. Ilya continued his ministrations, softly sweeping Shane’s fringe across and out of his taped-shut eyes, his hair somehow still soft despite everything that was happening to him.

Ilya’s hands shook as he carefully lifted the sheet covering the lower half of Shane’s body. He was bare underneath, but Ilya didn’t allow his gaze to linger, sweeping down to Shane’s left leg, which was encased in a white cast. There were bruises on his hips and stomach, and again Ilya traced the pads of his fingers over them gently, eyes shutting as he tried to remember how Shane’s skin had looked before, untouched and perfect.

He covered him back up and cleared his throat, finally letting go of Shane’s hand as he used the heels of his own hands to wipe roughly at his eyes. He’d cried a river, shedding tears in a volume he had never done in his life, and his eyes felt painfully dry.

The monitors and machines at Shane’s bedside were the only sound in the room. The monitors displayed numbers that Ilya didn’t understand, and the rhythmic beeping and hissing felt alien. He longed to silence them, but he settled for trying to block them out with his voice, Russian words coming to him more easily than English right now.

As he spoke, he allowed his fingers to move through Shane’s hair, his other hand cupping Shane’s cheek gently. He avoided looking at the long blue tube coming out of Shane’s mouth, focusing instead on the rise and fall of his chest, reassurance that Shane was still alive.

“Ty — moyo vso. Ty — prichina, po kotoroy ya prosypayus' kazhdoye utro. Ty — prichina, po kotoroy ya stal luchshe. Ty — prichina, po kotoroy ya delayu vso. S momenta nashey vstrechi ya ponyal, chto nikogda ne smogu zhelat' chego-libo tak sil'no, kak tebya. YA ponyal, chto lyublyu tebya, kogda osoznal, chto byt' s toboy — eto kak byt' doma. Pozhaluysta, ne ostavlyay menya, Sheyn. Potomu chto ya ne khochu zhit' v mire, v kotorom net tebya . Ya tebya lyublyu.”

You are my everything. You’re the reason I wake up every morning. You’re the reason I am a better man. You're the reason I do everything. From the moment we met, I knew I could never want anything as much as I want you. I knew I loved you when I realized that being with you is like being home. Please don’t leave me, Shane. Because I don’t want to be in a world you’re not in too. I love you.

Despite thinking he had shed all of his tears, more fell as he continued to whisper words to Shane that he hoped he could hear, even if he couldn’t understand them. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to tell Shane how he really felt about him, that he loved him, and he only wished it was different, that it could have been said in a moment of elation, not sorrow, not like this. He reached down, lacing their fingers together again, Shane’s warmth reassuring.

He looked up then, surprised to see Yuna and David standing in the doorway, just watching him. He didn’t bother to drop Shane’s hand or to wipe his tears, sure that by now they must understand what was happening. He realised that maybe he was intruding on their time with their son, that this wasn’t the right time for him to be here, and he clumsily got to his feet, resting Shane’s hand gently back on the bed.

“Sorry, I will go-”

“No, stay,” David said, and Yuna just nodded in agreement, the couple moving closer, but on the other side of Shane’s bedside. When they sat down into the two empty chairs, Ilya sat back down too, silence falling around them in the room. He saw the way they were holding hands between them, clinging on to each other, knowing they both felt the same emotions, that they weren’t alone.

Ilya couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and threading his fingers through Shane’s again, unable to drag his eyes away from Shane’s face, looking for any sign that he was still there, that Shane would come back to him. It was Ilya who broke the silence, knowing they deserved answers. Maybe Shane would hate him for this later, but Ilya had already made his decision.

“I am sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Find out what?” Yuna replied quickly, her voice chillier than Ilya had expected. David was clearly surprised by it too, and he reached out, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders as he whispered something to her that Ilya couldn’t hear, something just for the two of them. “What was it you were saying to him? You were speaking Russian, I couldn’t understand.”

David spoke gently. “Yuna, my love, that wasn't for us.”

“I don’t mind telling you,” Ilya admitted, realising that truthfully he didn’t, that he wanted Yuna and David to understand why he was here, how he felt about Shane. “I was telling him how I felt. That he is my home, my everything. That I can’t live without him. He has to be okay, because I need to tell him that I-” Ilya’s voice cracked again, but he steadied himself, squeezing Shane’s hand. “That I love him.”

Both of Shane’s parents met his eyes then, and Ilya nodded slightly, willing them to understand how much he meant every single word. He didn’t blush but right now, he was certain that he was blushing, but he didn’t care. They needed to know how deeply Ilya felt for their boy. Yuna looked away first, her eyes back on her son, tears pooling in the bottom of her eyes, much like they did in Shane’s, Ilya realised.

“Shane wouldn’t tell me anything more when he gave me your number,” David said after a while, breaking the silence in the room. “He wouldn’t tell me your name, why it meant so much to him that I had to contact you if something happened.”

“I did not know he did this,” Ilya admitted, his voice soft. He had to admit that he was shocked when he first saw the message from Shane’s phone, notifying Ilya about the accident. In the six hour drive from New York to Montreal, Ilya had thought about Shane’s thought-process, and why he hadn’t thought to tell Ilya he’d decided that Ilya meant enough to him to list him as his emergency contact, let alone give his father Ilya’s number to be contacted in the event of something tragic like this. It made Ilya realise he had to do the same for Shane and Svetlana, probably the only two people in the world who would care if something did happen to him.

“I know my son very well, I like to think so, anyway,” David began, his voice full of pride as he began to talk about his son. “Shane doesn’t do a single thing without thinking it through several times. He wouldn’t do something like that without good reason. He’s a planner, meticulous and careful with everything in his life. Everything he does, every choice he makes, has a purpose.”

“Yes, I feel this too,” Ilya said, not knowing what else to say. David was so much more articulate about Shane than he could ever hope to be.

“So that means I know that if he gave me your number, there was a real reason for that, a reason that was important to Shane. That he needed you to know what was happening, if… well, like this. You must mean something to him for him to do that. I didn’t push him for a name when he gave it to me because it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he cared enough that this person, you, knew where he was and how to get to him.”

Ilya swallowed down the lump in his throat at David’s honesty.

“How did you know he was here, in Montreal?” Yuna asked, her voice warmer now, letting David’s words settle over her, reassuring her that yes, Shane had wanted this. She may not understand it, but Shane had his reasons, and that had to be enough for now.

“I got message, from Shane’s phone,” Ilya started, trying to piece together how everything had happened. “Said he was in a crash. Emergency message.”

Yuna nodded, swiping away a tear that had betrayed her and fallen. “We got that too. So you’re also his emergency contact.”

“Apparently so,” Ilya said, nodding. “I did not know he did this. Like I did not know he had given Mr Hollander my number.”

“Okay,” Yuna said. “Somehow, that sounds like Shane.”

“I left New York,” Ilya carried on, wanting to fill in all the gaps, for them to understand what he’d done for Shane. He didn’t want praise or thanks, he just wanted them to know how important Shane was to him. “I drove here, didn’t stop. Needed to get here.”

“The Raiders are playing tomorrow,” Yuna suddenly said, eyes widening. “Will you leave for the game-”

“No.” It was an easy answer, one Ilya didn’t even have to think through. “I will stay. If you will allow me. Shane is more than hockey. I do not care if they fire me, trade me, whatever. I need to be here.”

“You’d lose your place with the Raiders for Shane?” David asked, as if he needed further confirmation of Ilya’s intentions.

“I’d lose everything I have if it means he lives,” Ilya said, voice thick and heavy with emotion. “I love him. So much. I wish I had told him.”

Silence fell again, and Ilya glanced up at the monitors, wishing he knew what all of the numbers and messages meant. He felt so out of his depth, completely lost in this unfamiliar world. The worst thing he’d ever had to deal with in hospital was a broken ankle when he was eight years old, and even then he was out of hospital after a brief overnight stay. This was an altogether alien situation, and Ilya hated feeling so out of control.

“The nurses are bringing us some cots, so we can stay,” Yuna said after a while.

“Okay. I, uh, I will see if I can get hotel near, or go back to Shane’s-”

“You’ve been to his house?”

“Yes. I went straight there, left my bag. He gave me key. I had to change, to-”

“It’s okay, we understand,” David cut in, seeing that Ilya was panicking, trying to justify why he had a place in Shane’s home. “Shane obviously wants you there, especially if he gave you a key. I know we’re asking a lot of questions, Mr Rozanov-”

“Ilya.”

“Sorry, Ilya, of course. I know we’re asking lots of questions but there’s all of this,” he said, gesturing to Shane’s sleeping form, “as well as finding out about you. It’s a lot for us to take in right now.”

Ilya nodded, hating he was adding stress to Shane’s parents right now.

“I can go-”

“I’ll ask the nurses for a cot for you,” Yuna said quietly, so softly that Ilya almost missed her words. “He’d want you here.”

At that small show of kindness from Shane’s mother, Ilya broke again, folding his arms onto the bed and sobbing into them, not bothering to hide the sounds coming out of him now. There was utter relief flooding his body that the Hollanders weren’t kicking him out and making him leave. They knew he had to be there for Shane, and were actively trying to help that happen.

“Thank you. I…. I cannot leave. Not until he is awake and okay.”

Yuna nodded and got up, rounding the bed. Ilya stilled as she reached out, taking one of his hands. Slowly, she leaned in, wrapping her arms around him again.

“The doctors said it might be days. Weeks, even, with a head injury like this,” David said softly, trying to get Ilya to understand the gravity of the situation, that this probably wasn’t going to be over quickly. The thought of seeing Shane like this for weeks filled Ilya with dread, but he nodded stoically.

“I do not care how long. I will not leave. Please do not make me leave.”

“We won’t,” Yuna insisted, holding onto Ilya’s hand now. “You belong here with Shane.”

****

Sleeping on the cots was probably the most uncomfortable sleep Ilya had ever had, and that was saying something. The room was never quiet, with the machines constantly beeping, and nurses and doctors walking in frequently to check Shane, making notes on iPads they kept with them at all times. Ilya was lying on one side of the room, with Yuna and David on the other, Shane surrounded by people who loved him.

After a few hours, Ilya gave up on sleep entirely and stretched out his back, wincing as his muscles protested again. He sat up and planted his socked feet on the floor, eyes fixed on Shane. There had been no change at all. Ilya had hoped that Shane could defy the odds, that being so fit and healthy would help him battle back sooner, but realistically, he knew it had only been hours.

A nurse came in then, smiling softly at Ilya before she attended to Shane, taking notes and smoothing the blanket over his legs.

“How is he?” Ilya finally dared to ask, wishing he knew what was going on.

“No change,” the nurse replied, turning to face Ilya. The way her eyebrows raised told Ilya she recognised him, but he didn’t care. “Right now, that’s hard, but it’s a good sign. His body is strong, he’s still with us.”

“Good. I cannot lose him,” Ilya admitted quietly, getting up and walking to Shane’s side. He picked up his hand again, kissing it gently. “Is there somewhere I can get drink? Been a very long night.”

The nurse kindly escorted Ilya down to the break room. It was empty, and Ilya set about making a coffee for himself, and for Yuna and David. He had no idea how they took their coffee so he stuffed little packets of milk and sugar into the pocket of his hoodie, along with stirrers, carrying all three mugs back to Shane’s room.

David was awake when he returned but Yuna was still asleep. He could see the pain on her face even now. Ilya handed David a mug, the other man nodding in thanks as Ilya set down the packets of milk and sugar onto a side table. They sat quietly, sipping their coffee, eyes all fixed on Shane.

“Did you manage to get any sleep?” David asked, and Ilya shrugged with one shoulder.

“A little. There is a lot of noise, and people…”

“Yes, it’s not peaceful. I didn’t sleep much either.” He paused, taking a big gulp of coffee. “How do you really feel, Ilya?”

“I feel like I am falling apart,” Ilya admitted brokenly, running a hand over his face. His skin was dry, his stubble was itchy and his eyes felt raw from crying. “I need him to be okay. I need to understand what is happening.”

“Hopefully the doctors can tell us more this morning,” David said, and Ilya just nodded, hoping for the same. “Can I… can I ask you something? About you and my son?”

Ilya nodded, deciding he wanted to be completely honest with Shane’s parents. They deserved that much right now. “Of course.”

“How long have you and Shane been… something?”

Ilya wasn’t surprised at the question, and answered honestly. “Summer before rookie year. I think he has always been my one.”

“Your one…?” David asked, trailing off, letting Ilya fill in the gap.

“Um, how you say? The one that I want to be with, always.”

“And Shane felt the same way about you?”

“I hope so,” Ilya replied, wishing he and Shane hadn’t wasted so much time, that they had been honest with each other about how they felt. When Shane woke up, Ilya was going to tell him everything; how he felt, what he wanted. “I think so, probably, yes.”

“Good. I always worried about him being alone. He had the team, but I always had a sense that they didn’t really get him, not truly,” David confessed quietly, and Yuna sat up slowly then, looking at Ilya then at her husband. “I’m glad you’re here for him.”

“I would never be anywhere else,” Ilya said, watching as David handed her the other mug of coffee. She added a packet of milk but no sugar, her fingers wrapped around the brown mug. “Sorry, I did not know if you like tea or coffee. But Shane like coffee in mornings, so…”

“He does,” Yuna agreed, giving Ilya a look he couldn’t decipher, almost as if she was surprised at how well Ilya knew her son. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Ilya nodded, because yes—he did. He loved him so much.. And one day, he had to be able to say the words to Shane’s face. He needed to see Shane’s eyes soften, needed to watch the understanding bloom there. Needed to selfishly, desperately hear the words whispered back to him. But first, Shane had to wake up. They were supposed to have more time.

And as he sat there, holding onto hope with trembling hands, Ilya let himself believe, because he had to. that they would get it. That one day, he would say the words out loud, and Shane would be there to hear them.

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary

Ilya finds out about the fate of Hayden Pike.

He also makes his priorities crystal clear to Coach LeClaire.

Chapter Notes

Still entirely overwhelmed by the reaction, the comments, the messages. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

This little universe holds such a special place in my heart.

Three days later

Ilya blinked blearily as the sun shone through the window and onto his face, creeping through the gap in the curtains he’d left last night. He breathed in heavily and stretched out slowly, the chill on the other side of the bed startling him for a moment. Suddenly, everything came rushing back. Shane. The accident. Hospital.

Before he could do anything else, Ilya stretched out his arm and patted his hand around, relieved when he found his phone. He picked it up and unlocked it, squinting as the screen came to life, seeing the notification that there were two messages waiting for him. One was from a few hours ago, the latest just ten minutes before. Ilya read and reread them, letting the words sink in.

The way Yuna had so easily included Ilya in the ‘us’ along with her and David made him feel so welcome, and Ilya sat up quickly, climbing out of Shane’s bed, the one he’d come to think of as theirs, throwing back the covers. It was silly, but he knew Shane liked to air out the bed for at least a few hours before he made it, and Ilya couldn’t bring himself to do anything but what Shane would want right now.

He showered perfunctorily, already missing when he used to join Shane in here, the two enjoying each other in so many ways. Ilya had to cling onto the hope that one day, he’d get to share those moments with Shane again. The alternative was impossible to contemplate. Ilya towel dried his hair and got dressed, borrowing more of Shane’s clothes from his drawers. He only had the small amount of clothes he’d taken with him to New York, but there was something so comforting in feeling Shane’s clothes around his body, even if they weren’t a perfect fit for his body type.

Ilya forced himself to sit at Shane’s breakfast bar while he made himself some toast, knowing that if he didn’t eat, he might end up unwell himself. He’d been reluctant to eat at all, but it was David who had shoved sandwiches into the hands of Ilya and Yuna twenty four hours after Shane had been admitted to hospital, telling them Shane would want them to eat, that he would want them to take care of themselves. Ilya knew he was right and ate it all, helping quiet some of the hunger pangs he’d been ignoring. Nothing but Shane was important but Ilya knew that to care of Shane, he had to look after himself as well. Since then, they’d all eaten whatever they could find in the hospital cafeteria, although some of Yuna and David’s friends had arranged for food to be sent over, which they’d all left at Shane’s.

As much as Ilya hadn’t wanted to leave the hospital or Shane’s side, they’d all quickly come to the realisation that it wasn’t healthy to sleep slumped in a chair, or to get constantly uninterrupted sleep. They’d arranged to ensure that at least one of them was with Shane at all times, and took it in turns staying in Shane’s home. Ilya continued to sleep in Shane’s bed, while Yuna and David stayed in his guest room. They were like ships passing in the night, but were trying their best to work together to be there for Shane.

As Ilya ate his breakfast, he scrolled through his phone, opening then closing the messages he’d received from his teammates. Many of them had been in touch, wishing him and Jane well, hoping that she was recovering. Ilya hadn’t been able to reply to them yet, and had ignored the calls Marlowe had tried to make. Ilya was certain that if he tried to talk about it, he’d crack and break down, or admit that it was Shane he was in hospital with, and he couldn’t do that, not without Shane’s permission. It was enough to get Shane’s parents to accept him, let alone Shane’s teammates and fans.

There were no more updates online about the condition of Shane or Hayden Pike, which Ilya was grateful for as it meant that the hospital was protecting his privacy. Ilya’s social media accounts were full of posts about Shane, Pike and the accident, many fans talking about what had happened, how both players were. The photos popped up when Ilya least expected it, and he closed them down as quickly as he could, the images already burned into his memory. He could only hope that Yuna and David weren’t seeing some of the more disgusting comments out there, and he locked his phone, leaning his heavy head into his hands.

Despite being in comforting, familiar surroundings, Ilya had found it hard to sleep. All he wanted was to be by Shane’s bedside, holding his hand as he made it through yet another night. He was grateful that so far, everything seemed steady. Shane hadn’t woken up, or shown any signs of wanting to wake up, but the doctors had taken the fact he made it to the first morning as a good sign. Ilya had felt sick as he realised what that meant - that the doctors hadn’t necessarily expected Shane to make it at all.

But he was here three days on, and Ilya quickly got up, heading back outside to his car. The visiting hours at the hospital didn’t start until eight in the morning, but Ilya had been given permission to enter at any time of day, along with the Hollanders, due to their well known status in Montreal. The hospital had been very accommodating of their situation, and Ilya would always be grateful to them for trying to make an awful time somewhat easier.

The drive to the hospital passed in a blur, and Ilya tugged on Shane’s baseball cap as he headed in, his earbuds in his ears showing he wasn’t going to engage with anyone. There was no music playing, but it didn’t matter, they felt like a shield to Ilya. He was buzzed into the Critical Care Unit, and hurried along the corridor, nodding a greeting to a few nurses he recognised before he knocked on the door, letting himself into Shane’s room.

Yuna looked up as he walked inside, smiling gently at him. David was asleep on the cot, and Ilya shrugged off his jacket, hanging it over the armchair to the side of the room before he went over to Shane’s bedside. He reached out, gently brushing the backs of his fingers against Shane’s soft cheek, careful to avoid the tape holding his tubes in place, and the breathing tube that was still in his throat. He leaned down slowly, pressing a kiss to Shane’s forehead.

“Good morning, Ilya,” Yuna said quietly as Ilya settled into the chair opposite her. The initial frosty treatment Ilya had received from her had slowly softened since that first meeting, and now, there was a gentle acceptance from her towards Ilya. “Did you manage to sleep?”

“A little,” Ilya admitted, taking Shane’s hand as he always did. “My mind would not shut off.”

Yuna nodded knowingly, her eyes flitting to Shane’s face again. “You got my message?”

“Yes, of course,” Ilya answered, nodding at David who had stirred at the sound of their conversation. “Thank you for telling me about it.”

“Of course, you should be here too. But… we had some news last night.” Ilya’s eyes widened, and Yuna held up a hand. “No, not about Shane, I’d have told you if it was about him. It’s about Pike.”

There hadn’t been much word about Hayden since they’d been admitted, but from the little Ilya and the Hollanders had been able to find out, it seemed that Pike’s injuries were less severe than Shane’s. Ilya knew that Shane would be relieved at that, and he had felt a small rush of relief for Jackie, Hayden’s wife, and his three young children.

“Okay. He is well?”

“Yes, he is. He’s still in the hospital, will be for a few more days yet but… he’d like to visit Shane today.”

“I see.” Ilya hated the fact he was annoyed about it. He knew Yuna and David would leave after the doctors had been to try and get some sleep at Shane’s home, giving him some much needed alone time. He didn’t do much, just sitting and reading, or trying to sleep with his head next to Shane, but the time he had alone with him was precious. However, he also knew how much Pike must be wanting to see his best friend, so he relented. “I will go. Maybe you can-”

“No,” David said, his voice low and still full of sleep, stirring at the other side of the room. “You don’t have to go, Ilya. Yuna and I spoke about this earlier. We want you to stay. Hayden needs to know you’re here, and why you’re here.”

Ilya quickly shook his head. “No, Shane did not tell him-”

“I don’t think that matters right now,” Yuna said. “What matters is Shane being surrounded by the people who love him. And you’re one of those people. Hayden is a good man, he will understand.”

Ilya wasn’t as convinced but he nodded, wanting to go along with the Hollanders' wishes. He could only hope Shane would understand all of these decisions when he woke up. “Okay, I will be here. What time will he visit?”

Yuna informed Ilya it would be later that afternoon, and said they would be back at the hospital in time for the visit. Ilya was grateful he wouldn’t have to face it alone. David disappeared after a while to get them some drinks, and just after, a nurse appeared. Ilya knew what this was for.

“I’ll leave you to it, I’ll join David. We’ll be back in a bit,” Yuna said, getting to her feet. She kissed Shane’s forehead and smiled softly at Ilya before she left. It was strange that this was already a routine of sorts, but Ilya stood, ready to help.

The nurses had explained about keeping Shane clean on the first day of his admittance. It was to ensure there was no risk of infection, but also to prevent bedsores and other skin rashes that could be common in coma patients. Ilya had done a good amount of research online, resorting to Russian websites that he could understand more easily when tiredness threatened to overwhelm him.

Yuna had found it difficult, the first time. Her son was an adult, and seeing him in a naked, vulnerable state had felt wrong. It was David who had guided her outside, with Ilya following quickly, promising to take care of Shane. He knew it had taken a lot for Yuna to agree, and he’d silently stood by the nurses side, watching as she lifted each of Shane’s limbs, wiping and drying them with such care and attention.

He had asked to help, and she’d understood he needed to feel useful, instructing him on how to wash around wound sites, how to keep away from the sensors so they didn’t interfere with any of the important readings the doctors were monitoring. It was Ilya who washed Shane intimately as well, using his hands and a soft washcloth to wipe his skin, fingers gentle. It made Ilya tear up every time because he wasn’t used to touching Shane without his permission, or without some sort of reaction, and everything about this was just the opposite of their relationship. But right now, this was the only way Ilya could care for Shane, and he was going to make the best of it, to treat him with such love and care that Shane would know how loved he was when he woke up. Not if. When.

They’d just about finished when the doctors came into the room, Yuna and David holding hands behind them. Ilya finished combing Shane’s hair and set the comb onto the side table, letting out a slow breath. Yuna and David came to stand beside him, while the group of three doctors greeted them. Ilya only recognised one face, but he knew the hospital was huge, and that many people were working on Shane’s case. They nodded as the professionals introduced themselves, and as always, Yuna took the lead, reintroducing them to the unfamiliar faces.

“I’m Yuna, Shane’s Mom, and this is David, Shane’s dad.” She turned to Ilya. “This is Ilya, Shane’s partner.”

The first time he’d heard those words from Yuna’s mouth had made Ilya cry. It was complete and utter acceptance in a way he’d never felt before. She’d held him as he sobbed into her shoulder, thanking her quietly for not just dismissing him as Shane’s friend or acquaintance.

“You are happy to share medical information in this room?” the man in charge said, and Yuna nodded, along with David and Ilya.

The words were a lot for Ilya to understand. He had never been good with medical terminology, often asking Shane what things meant through text or on the phone when he’d been to see the team doctors. Shane was always patient, putting things into simple terms that Ilya could understand without making him feel stupid. Right now, though, he had to focus.

The doctors made it clear that no progress was a good sign at this point, that any decline would have been known by this point. They acknowledged that Shane was still unable to breathe on his own, which is why he was on a ventilator, and that the brain injury was impairing any normal function. He’d had another CT scan the day before which had been clear of any bleeds, but they were going to monitor it in case any were to arise. They also suggested trying to wean Shane off his sedation again the following day, hoping that it would trigger Shane attempting to breathe by himself. Ilya was terrified at the mere thought, but he knew he had to trust these clever people, these people who saved lives like Shane’s day in, day out.

“Do you have any questions for us?” they asked, and all three members of Shane’s family shook their heads. “If you do, please just grab one of us and ask, we’ll be more than happy to help. You can also ask the nurses, they’re fantastic at what they can do, and if they can’t answer, they’ll contact us.”

“Thank you so much,” David said, shaking the hands of each member of the team while Ilya just hurried back to Shane’s bedside.

“You’ll be okay, moy lyubyumi,” Ilya whispered, kissing Shane’s forehead again. “I know it. I know you won’t leave me. You’ll be okay.”

*****

Hayden Pike was on his way down from the ward, and Ilya felt sick. Aside from the Hollanders, Ilya had never had to admit to anyone else what Shane meant to him. Even his best friend, Svetlana, didn’t know of Shane’s identity, or just how deeply his feelings ran for Shane. Yuna and David had returned earlier than expected, and Ilya knew that it was for him, because he was feeling so nervous. He appreciated their support more than he could ever put into words, Russian or English.

“It’ll be alright,” Yuna soothed, patting Ilya’s shoulder. “Hayden is a good guy. You know Shane would only pick a good one for his best friend. My son is a good judge of people. He chose you, didn’t he?”

A soft smile crossed Ilya’s face as he nodded, realising that yes, Shane had chosen him. Maybe it had just been to hook up at first, to experiment and experience sex with a man, to explore those forbidden feelings but it hadn’t been that for a long time, at least not for Ilya. He had a pretty good feeling that it wasn't that for Shane anymore, either.

A knock on the door made Ilya’s head snap up, and he got to his feet, walking over to the window. He didn’t want himself to be the first thing Hayden saw when he came into the room, and honestly, he was nervous to see what state Hayden was in. They hadn’t been given any medical information, but Ilya figured he had to be well if he was up and mobile and able to visit Shane.

“Hayden, oh honey,” Yuna said as the door opened, and he was wheeled inside in a wheelchair. Ilya was initially shocked by Hayden’s appearance, and focused hard on making sure his features didn’t give away any shock or horror. He was used to hockey injuries, but this was something else altogether.

Hayden’s face was quite literally black and blue. He had two black eyes, and multiple cuts on his face and neck. His arm was strapped up, and every movement looked like it was agony. Ilya watched the way Hayden’s free arm wrapped around Yuna’s neck, how his hand grabbed the back of her cardigan and held on tightly.

Jackie was standing behind the wheelchair, looking exhausted. Her usually well kept blonde hair was scraped back into a scruffy ponytail, and she looked as awful as Ilya felt. His heart went out to her, and he saw that she recognised his presence before Hayden did. Instead of acting shocked, she just stared for a moment before she sent him a small smile and a nod, and Ilya wondered if he and Shane had perhaps been more obvious than they had thought.

“Oh god,” Hayden said brokenly as Jackie wheeled him over to Shane’s bedside. “Fuck, oh my god, I can’t-” He started to cry and much like Ilya had done, grabbed Shane’s hand and held it tightly as he cried, rivers of tears running down the skin of Shane’s arm. “Please, Shane, you gotta wake up. I need you. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” David insisted, walking over and resting a gentle yet supportive hand on Hayden’s back. Ilya could only hold himself back and watch, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment. “This was no-one’s fault. Just a terrible accident. Shane would be so relieved that you’re okay.”

“Is he- what’s happening?” Hayden asked, and he lifted his head, finally making eye contact with Ilya. Silence filled the room again. He just stared for a moment before turning to Jackie, then Yuna. “What- what is going on? Why is he here.”

“He’s here for Shane,” Yuna answered, her voice steady. “Ilya has been here since you were both admitted to the hospital. He hasn’t left Shane’s side.”

Hayden just blinked, and Ilya found the courage to walk over, reaching out a hand. He had a horrible, fleeting thought that maybe Hayden wouldn’t take it, would reject him, perhaps disgusted by this revelation. But he didn’t. Instead, Hayden reached out slowly and gripped Ilya’s hand, shaking it briefly, wincing in pain at the action.

“You and Shane…” Hayden started, clearly unsure where to go with this, so Ilya stepped in, needing to say it for himself.

“I love him. We are… something. He is special to me,” he offered, his words not enough, but for now, they would do. “I am sorry Shane could not tell you.”

“Did you know?” he asked, turning to Yuna and David, who quickly shook their heads.

“Shane gave us Ilya’s number a while ago. We didn’t know that it was his, not until he arrived at the hospital. Shane was insistent that if anything ever happened to him, that we let this person know. You know Shane. He takes care of the people who matter to him. Ilya means something to him, Hayden, and we need to accept that.”

David’s words were all Hayden needed to hear. He nodded, and turned slowly to Jackie.

“I need to… I can’t see him. Can you help me?”

Jackie nodded and put the brakes on the wheelchair, shuffling to the side. “How do you want me to…”

“Just hold under my arm,” Hayden said, but Ilya could see that there was no way this was going to work. Jackie wasn’t strong enough, and Hayden was awfully shaky on his feet. “Fuck, ow- Jackie, please, ow, my arm.”

Ilya was observant. He saw the way Hayden’s eyes flitted down to his wife’s stomach, the way her hand gently pressed against her belly before it moved back to her side.

“Let me help you,” Ilya stated.

“No, I can-” Hayden started but he sighed, realising Ilya was perhaps his only hope right now. “Thank you, Rozanov. I’d appreciate it.”

Jackie moved to the side and Ilya easily helped lift Hayden from his chair, putting his arm around the man’s waist as Hayden’s good arm came around Ilya’s neck to stabilise himself. It was quiet in the room as everyone allowed Hayden to get a proper look at Shane, to make sense of what they’d been seeing for days now.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” Hayden asked, his voice cracking on the word, and Ilya clenched his jaw, willing himself not to cry, not in front of Pike.

“We do not know,” Ilya said softly, not wanting to startle Hayden. It was strange, being this close to a man Ilya was sure hated him, especially on the ice. But right now, none of that seemed to matter. Shane needed them, and Ilya would be there for whatever Shane’s people needed, Pike included. “Doctors said lots of words… it was hard.”

Yuna came over and began to translate what the doctors had said, and this time, Ilya began to understand. They didn’t know exactly why Shane hadn’t woken up yet, just that he was showing some brain activity. Jackie was on the other side of Hayden, and Ilya flinched slightly when she rested a hand on his arm, not releasing him.

“Can you help me sit, it hurts,” Hayden asked, and Ilya did so quickly, making sure he was bearing the brunt of Hayden’s not-so-slight weight as he lowered him back into the chair. He could see how much it had taken out of the man to stand like that, and he appreciated that Shane only surrounded himself by the best people. “Thank you, Ilya.”

Ilya nodded, blinking back tears. “It is okay. I- I need some air.”

He hurried outside, determined that Hayden Pike wouldn’t see him cry. It was one thing to be vulnerable in front of the Hollanders, but Ilya couldn’t quite bring himself to let go of his emotions in front of Hayden. He turned against the wall and rested his head against his folded arms, not wanting to be any further away just yet.

He jumped when a soft voice called his name, and he sniffed, turning towards it.

“Ilya? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” Jackie’s voice was gentle, one she no doubt used with her young children when they needed comfort.

“It’s okay. I am just tired. Have not slept well.”

“I can imagine,” Jackie said, nodding her head towards the chair just along from Shane’s room. Wordlessly, Ilya followed her, settling in the chair next to her. He stared at the floor as she spoke. “I think it says a lot that you’re here for Shane.”

“Did you know? About us?” Ilya blurted out, but Jackie quickly shook her head.

“No. I had a feeling he had someone, though. When he came over for dinner, he was always on his phone, which he never usually did around the kids. Hayden had mentioned this girl in Boston Shane had been texting… Lily, I think he said. That was you?”

“Yes. We could not tell anyone.”

“I understand,” Jackie replied, and somehow, Ilya knew that she did. “It’ll mean a lot to him when he wakes up to see that you’ve been by his side.”

“He will be angry.”

“Maybe, at first. Shane hates letting go of control. But when he finds out you were here the whole time, he’ll be so relieved. When Shane loves, he loves hard. He’s a great guy.”

Ilya nodded sharply. Suddenly, he had to ask. Jackie was the first person he could be honest with. There was no way he could voice his fears to Yuna and David. That would be cruel.

“Do you think he will?”

“Will what?”

“Live.” Ilya’s voice cracked again at that, and his lower lip trembled, tears tumbling down his cheeks before he could wipe them away.

“Shane is strong,” Jackie said, dabbing at her own tears with a tissue she produced from her pocket. “If anyone can pull through this, it’s him. And look at all these people he has waiting for him. He has his parents, Hayden and me, he has you… and gosh, Ilya, he’ll be fighting his way back to you with everything he has.” Jackie’s small hands took his, and he let it happen, relishing the gentle comfort.

They stayed there together until the door to Shane’s room opened, and David wheeled Hayden out. Jackie hurried over to her husband and then walked away back to Yuna and David, talking softly, leaving Hayden and Ilya alone.

“Thank you, for what you did back there for me.”

“Of course. I am not asshole, Hayden, no matter what you may think.”

“I know,” Hayden admitted, and their eyes finally met. “Don’t leave him, Rozanov. Shane deserves someone who will stay for him.”

“I won’t,” Ilya vowed, and he meant every single word. The two men shook hands, and Jackie came over, pulling Ilya into a hug before she kissed his cheek, finally wheeling Hayden back to where his ward was, a few floors away. Ilya’s heart tugged with jealousy as he watched the two chat easily to each other, hoping against hope he would get that again with Shane.

His phone rang almost as soon as Ilya had returned to Shane’s room, and he told Yuna he’d be back soon before he walked back outside the room, answering the call he’d been expecting for the past few days. It was the Boston Raiders Coach, and he wanted answers. Ilya had ignored the messages he’d had so far, but he couldn’t carry on that way. Coach LeClaire had been understanding so far, but he was asking Ilya to tell him when he’d be back.

“We need to know what is happening, Rozanov. You can’t just stay away without-”

“I can, and I cannot say when I will be back. I cannot leave here, not now,” Ilya insisted, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Rozanov, you are the captain. I am sure that your girlfriend will be okay in the hospital. We can fly you in and out for games, make sure you’re only away a few nights-”

“I said no.” Ilya’s raised voice caused a few people to look up, but he didn’t care. Coach needed to understand there was no way Ilya was leaving, however long this took. “I will not leave. The person I love is in coma. They may never wake up. You think I give a shit about hockey right now? No. I do not.”

Coach LeClaire spluttered on the other end at that, trying to interrupt Ilya but he carried on.

“I will not leave. How can you expect this? If I play hockey and something happens… if I never get chance to say goodbye? I will never ever forgive myself. Only person I care about now is here with me - they need me, and I will stay, as long as I need to. Do not call me again.”

Ilya pulled the phone away from his ear and breathed in and out heavily, trying to calm himself down. He knew he couldn’t throw the phone at the wall, not here in the hospital, but he clenched it in his fist, screwing his eyes shut, breathing deeply.

“Give it to me, Ilya,” came a voice, and Ilya looked up, seeing David, hand outstretched. He gave his phone over easily, his whole body shaking as he watched David slide the phone into his own pocket. “I heard all of that. I’m sorry but I was worried about you. Your coach is an ass. It’ll mean so much to Shane that you stayed. And for what it’s worth… it means a lot to us too. Hearing how much Shane means to you… it’s all I wanted for him. To be cared for in the way you care for him.”

“I will not leave,” Ilya repeated, angrily swiping away his tears with the sleeve of Shane’s hoodie.

“We know,” David reassured him. “‘Let’s get back to Shane, shall we?”

David gently guided him back down the corridor with a soft hand on his back, and Ilya realised this was what Shane was blessed with. Parents who loved him unconditionally. Who cared deeply. Who wanted the best for him. The Hollanders were such good people they’d accepted Ilya so quickly, realising what Shane meant to him.

How lucky Shane was to have this. People who would go to the ends of the Earth for him. People who would never give up on him. And Ilya was one of those. He was fairly sure he’d been that for Shane since the moment he’d laid eyes on him, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. And Ilya knew he always would be, for as long as Shane would let him. For as long as Shane continued to live, Ilya would be right by his side.

Chapter 6

Chapter Summary

The Hollanders decide its time to tell the world about Shane.

Ilya gets a surprising visitor.

Then hope turns to terror.

Chapter Notes

I'm sorry.

One week later

“Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with people? Seriously, these are seriously fucked up messages,” Yuna cursed, and Ilya couldn’t help but smile at her reaction. Shane had always said his mom had a potty mouth when she got angry, but he couldn’t believe it. Right now, though, it seemed Shane was right. There were red spots high on Yuna’s cheeks, and Ilya called her name a few times until she looked at him. “What, Ilya?”

“Maybe… maybe you and David should say something?”

“Like a statement, you mean?”

“Yes, perhaps is best idea,” Ilya suggested, having thought about this over the past few nights. There was a ridiculous amount of speculation online about Shane now, and it hadn’t helped that Hayden had already posted from his hospital bed, reassuring Metros fans that he was alive and well, that while he’d be out for the rest of the season, he was okay and would be going home to his family soon. “I hate seeing bad things people are saying.”

The posts Ilya had come across during his middle of the night doom scrolling made him feel physically unwell, to the point he’d deleted his social media apps the other evening. It was just too much, and it was slowly chipping away at Ilya’s hope that Shane would wake up every time he saw something he wished that he hadn’t. A large section of hockey fans had come to the ridiculous conclusion that Shane had died in the crash that night, and that it was being covered up. Why exactly, Ilya didn’t know, but it had taken all of his strength not to reply to them, to tell them Shane was alive, that he wouldn’t be here either if Shane wasn’t.

“I mean… I guess we could,” Yuna said, looking at David, who just shrugged. It had now been ten days since the accident, and Shane was still in a coma. The doctors had decided to allow his body to rest instead of trying to wean him off sedation, and consequently, the Hollanders and Ilya spent every waking minute at his bedside. Yuna spent her time reading out articles from hockey websites and magazines, while David sat silently next to his son, reading the New Yorker. Somehow, Ilya knew Shane would appreciate the boring mundanity of all this.

Ilya, though… he’d begun to read to Shane, but in Russian. Initially, he read aloud from his phone, but then he’d ordered books, sent to Shane’s home but in Yuna’s name, just in case. He sat by Shane’s bedside as he read aloud books he’d enjoyed as a child, books as a teen that he’d read that allowed him to escape in his mind from the prison of the home he lived in with a father who didn’t give a shit about Ilya’s existence. It was nice to relax his overwhelmed mind and allow the Russian words to flow, offering Ilya a little comfort when often, there was little to be found.

“I’ll draft something,” Yuna announced, pulling her laptop from her bag. Despite the fact Shane was still unresponsive, Yuna was still working hard behind the scenes, continuing to manage her son as she had done since he was a promising young teenage hockey prodigy. “Give me a bit, then I’ll share it with you.”

Ilya and David nodded, with Ilya continuing to read aloud in Russian as Yuna tapped away ferociously at her keyboard. Being in the hospital like this was beyond strange, and Ilya had lost all concept of time. He frequently had to keep checking his phone to see what day of the week it was, the time of day. Due to Shane’s state, he was monitored around the clock by the medical team, and consequently, Ilya was so used to interrupted sleep, it was becoming the norm.

Every day that he awoke, he prayed today would be the day that Shane would come out of his coma, or at least show signs that he was fighting his way back to him. It was very typical for them to go days and weeks without contact, only messaging whenever the Metros and Raiders were due to play each other, to tease or arrange a meeting. But this prolonged silence was slowly killing Ilya. He had never felt more alone in his life, even though Yuna and David had been wonderful and accepting of him. He missed Shane in a way he never believed he could feel for another person, and was willing to do almost anything at this point to bring him back to him.

“Okay, I’ve written a rough draft. It might need some more work but can you read it, let me know what you both think?”

“You don’t hang about, do you, my love?” David said, walking over and standing behind Yuna, Ilya quickly joining them. Ilya could only hope that if the situations were reversed, that he’d have Yuna on his side now too. He read slowly and carefully, digesting the well written words. Only when he came to a certain sentence did his jaw drop, heart full of emotion at what Yuna had intentionally done. Tears threatened to fall but Ilya swallowed heavily, trying to keep his emotions in check.

Family statement regarding Shane Hollander
We are aware of the significant online speculation regarding our son, Shane Hollander, and we feel it is now appropriate to provide an update.

Ten days ago, Shane was involved in a road traffic collision. Since that time, he has remained in a medically induced coma and is currently receiving excellent care in hospital. He remains under close supervision of a highly-skilled and dedicated medical team who continue to monitor his condition.

We have been deeply moved by the outpouring of support, concern and well-wishes shared through social media. The kindness shown to Shane and our family during this difficult period has been overwhelming, and we know Shane would be incredibly grateful for all the strength and love being sent his way.

Shane is receiving the highest level of medical care, and we are incredibly thankful to the medical staff for their professionalism, compassion and ongoing support.

We will remain by Shane’s side, together with his devoted partner, and will share further updates when it is appropriate to do so. We kindly ask for understanding and respect for our family’s privacy at this time.

David and Yuna Hollander.

“You… you mention me,” Ilya said, his voice full of surprise. Truthfully, it was the last thing he expected to read, and he looked up, seeing their gentle expressions looking back at him. “I… I do not know what to say.”

“I thought partner was the best description for now,” Yuna admitted, David nodding in agreement at her side. “It doesn’t give anything away that Shane wouldn’t want to be public yet, but it also acknowledges that you’re here, by his side, with us.”

“Thank you,” Ilya whispered, fingers playing with his mother’s cross hanging from his neck, a comfort to him. “This means a lot. Thank you.” Blinking away tears at the kindness he was being shown, Ilya returned to Shane’s side, once again taking his hand. “You are so loved, Shane. You need to come back to us, please.”

“There was something else we wanted to discuss with you, Ilya,” David said, and he looked up just as David and Yuna shared a look between them that Ilya couldn’t identify. They came and sat on Shane’s other side, just the monitors beeping stopping the room from being entirely silent. “Coach Theriault wants to come and visit Shane. He would like an update, and to see Shane. We’ve put him off until now, but I think it might be time we let a few more people into this situation.”

“How do you feel about that?” Yuna asked, and truthfully, Ilya was surprised at her caring about his opinion on the matter. Clearly, though, Yuna wasn’t having that. “Don’t look so surprised that we’re asking you. You’re as much a part of this as we are, and we know that your opinion will mean a lot to Shane.” She paused. “We value your opinion too. Right now, you’re part of this family, and your opinion matters.”

Ilya nodded, turning to Shane and then back to his parents. He knew how much Shane would hate this, being so out of control, but he knew that both he and his parents had Shane’s best interests at heart. Hockey was Shane’s life, and Ilya knew he’d want his coach to be part of this, to at least know what was happening with him. He wasn’t so sure, though, that Shane would want his coach to know about him and Ilya.

“Maybe… maybe that is okay. But maybe I should not be here. I do not think Shane would want this.”

Yuna nodded. “I understand that. We can invite him later, perhaps you can go back to Shane’s and have something to eat, get some sleep?”

Ilya had spent the night before in the hospital with Shane, and exhaustion was becoming a familiar friend right now. He absolutely hated every time that he had to leave, to say goodbye to Shane because he was so terrified that it would be the last time. He was getting constant flashbacks of finding his mother, her body cold, and every time he dreamed of her, he woke up with tears soaking into his pillow. He couldn’t bear to think about that happening to Shane.

“I think so, yes. But I will come back later tonight, let you go to Shane’s and sleep.”

“That would be good. David, do you want to message Coach Theriault, invite him over in a few hours?” David nodded, quickly turning to his phone to do just that, leaving Yuna and Ilya to themselves again. “Have you spoken more to your team or your Coach, Ilya?”

Ilya shook his head. “No. All I have said is I am not coming back until things are okay.” He caught David’s eye, seeing the man give him a supportive smile, returning it easily. “Shane is top priority, nothing else matters now.”

“But it could be weeks, months, even. You heard the doctors earlier. They still don’t know why Shane isn’t waking up, this could be-”

“Please do not say it,” Ilya cut in, pushing away the awful words the doctors had used earlier. He refused to contemplate that this could be how Shane remained, that he might never wake up. “Shane is a fighter.”

“We know that, but we need to be realistic.”

“No. You can be realistic. I will be hopeful. Shane will wake up. I know this.”

Yuna let out a sigh, and it was clear that as much as it was hurting her, she was preparing herself for any scenario. Ilya couldn’t do that. Not now, not ever when it came to Shane. They continued to talk softly until David revealed that Coach Theriault would be there within the hour, and Ilya stood up, deciding now was as good a time as any to leave. He didn’t want to risk bumping into the man in the car park or in the corridor. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain his presence away.

He hugged David and Yuna goodbye before he kissed Shane, his kiss lingering a little before he pulled away, cupping his cheek. He missed when Shane kissed him back, how it would take Ilya working to relax Shane before he’d really lose himself in a kiss. God, Ilya loved the way he kissed, how perfectly Shane it was, that he held a part of himself back from it until he fully succumbed to his feelings. Ilya closed his eyes, trying to remember how Shane had looked before all of this, before all of the tubes, wires and machines keeping him alive, but when he opened his eyes, it was all still there.

When he finally pulled into the driveway of Shane’s house, Ilya’s phone pinged. He was terrified that it was Yuna and David, and let out a breath of relief when he saw it was Marlowe. He took the key out of the ignition and opened the message, freezing when he saw it.

Ilya knew it was too late to hide now. If he was honest, he was surprised it had taken Marlowe this long to figure it out, and if he had done sooner, why he hadn’t contacted Ilya until now. Reluctantly, knowing the game was up, he replied with Shane’s address and then got out of the car, his legs feeling heavy as he walked inside.

The smell of the hospital felt like it had embedded every fibre of his being, and Ilya went straight to Shane’s bedroom, pulling off his clothes and shoving them into Shane’s laundry basket before he walked into the shower, keeping the water just a touch too hot, the pain keeping him alert. He made the bed and dressed afterwards, starting some laundry before he finally settled on the sofa. He texted Yuna and David, checking in on Shane before the doorbell finally rang.

When he opened it, Marlowe was on the other side. Ilya wasn’t sure what he expected to see on Marlowe’s face, but it wasn’t the concern and worry that he did see.

“Hey, Rozy,” Marlowe said, a leather rucksack hanging from his shoulder. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, sorry,” Ilya said, feeling awkward about inviting one of his teammates into Shane’s home. Still, he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He didn’t have a hotel he could invite him to, and Marlowe was right. He did need his friends. “Shoes off, please.”

Marlowe did as he was asked, and followed Ilya, eventually sitting on the edge of the sofa opposite Ilya, trying to look casual, like he wasn’t looking at every picture frame Shane had on display. Of course, there were no pictures of him and Ilya. They were careful and deleted every picture they sent each other, keeping no record of whatever was going on between them. Right now, all Ilya wanted was a photo of them smiling together, looking like they didn’t have a care in the world. If something happened and he was left without a single tangible memory of him and Shane, Ilya wasn’t sure how he’d cope. All he knew was that if Shane woke up, he was going to right that wrong.

“So. How is Hollander?”

Ilya wasn’t surprised that Marlowe dived straight in. Ilya replied with complete honesty, not needing to hide now. “Not good. He is in coma, on breathing machine. Doctors cannot tell us why he is not awake.”

“Shit, that’s so fucked up. You’ve been there since it happened?”

Ilya nodded. “The message… that was Shane’s phone. I came here, have been in hospital with him. With Hollander’s parents.”

“Wow. Okay. So… are you staying here? I assume this is Shane’s place?”

“It is, and yes I have been staying here until he is awake. Has the team said anything?”

Marlowe looked awkward, and then Ilya knew he was the subject of locker room discussion. “I mean, everyone wants to know where you are, why you’re not at the games.”

“What has been said?”

“That you’ve had a family emergency. They don’t need any more details. They’re good guys, they know you wouldn’t bunk off unless it was serious. Don’t worry, Roz, I’m the only one who’s figured it out, about you and Hollander.”

Ilya felt grateful for small mercies. “How did you know?”

"I thought maybe at first you were just friends. I've noticed you seek him out when we play together, that you'd talk quietly together sometimes when you thought other people couldn't see you. Then I saw your face when you read that message. It said everything - you love him, don't you?"

Ilya just nodded.

“So I saw the news online that night after you left, about Hollander and Pike. It took a while for me to put it together, then I realised you only seemed to meet Jane whenever we were in Montreal, or when we played the Metros. I realised I'd been stupid, that what I'd been seeing wasn't friendship. It was you falling in love with him. Am I right?"

Ilya let out a slow, shaky breath but nodded again. He'd never felt more exposed but Marlow reached out, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly, wordlessly telling Ilya that it was okay for him to love his supposed rival, the person Ilya was meant to hate. That he could love another man.

"Do you mind if I ask if it’s serious?”

“It is for me,” was all Ilya could reply. He looked down to his fingers, seeing the red patches where he’d been picking at his skin, a habit he thought he’d left behind long ago. “I hope it is for him, too.”

“I saw the statement,” Marlowe said as they shared a pizza later on, ordered at Marlowe’s insistence. Ilya didn’t think he had much of an appetite, but when he’d seen the pizza, he suddenly felt ravenous. He hadn’t eaten properly since Shane’s accident, and it seemed his body was craving food. “It was nice, his parents including you like they did.”

“Mmm,” Ilya hummed in agreement. “They are good people, like Shane. Why are you smiling?”

“It’s weird, hearing you call him Shane. It’s always Hollander, but…”

“He is Shane to me, always. Are you staying in Montreal?”

“We have a game in Toronto tomorrow,” Marlowe replied, eyebrows raised at Ilya. “I guess you haven’t been keeping track of hockey right now.”

They ate the rest of the meal while Marlowe chatted about the team and hockey, and Ilya knew it was all a distraction, that his friend was trying his best to take his mind off Shane. He appreciated it, but at the same time, he just wanted to get back to the hospital and to sit at Shane’s side. It felt wrong being here without him, knowing that anything could be happening while he was here filling his face with pizza.

He and Marlowe had cleared up the mess together and Ilya had gone to Shane’s backyard, smoking a cigarette while Marlowe stood by his side. He asked about Pike, apparently pleased to hear that he was in much better shape than Shane, and due to go home in a few days. As happy as Ilya had been to hear that news from Yuna, it still stung that while Pike seemed to be moving forward, Shane was stuck in this limbo. There was no sign of progress, and each day felt like torture, with no news, no hope.

“I know I can’t visit or anything,” Cliff said as Ilya walked him out to the car he’d driven up in. “But please give Hollander my best, and his parents. Just… keep in touch, okay? Let me know how he is going.”

“I will,” Ilya said, meaning it. “And Marlowe-”

“I won’t say a word. I wouldn’t do that to you, or to Hollander. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but believe me, I would never betray you like that. Take care, okay, Captain?”

Ilya accepted the hug and nodded, smiling as Marlowe pulled a face at the Metros sweatshirt Ilya was wearing. He’d taken to wearing Shane’s clothes as often as he could, feeling closer to him somehow. He knew Shane had stolen one of his t-shirts years ago, a black one that he’d never been able to find since one of their earlier hotel rendezvous, and he’d already decided he was keeping this sweatshirt. It was his now.

He watched the man drive off and went back inside. He was tired, but there was no way he could sleep now. His belly was protesting at the amount of food he’d eaten, used to being all but starved in the past week, and Ilya had a pounding headache that no amount of painkillers was going to shift. He flicked on the television, trying to drown out the deafening silence but he couldn’t concentrate.

Ilya knew that Coach was probably gone by now, but he wasn’t due back at the hospital for a few hours. He always tried to make sure that Shane’s parents got some alone time with their son, even if it meant he had to sit and waste time until he could return. He picked up his phone and pulled up Twitter, clicking on the Shane Hollander hashtag. His feed was flooded with tweets, and he read a couple, scrolling to see many said the same thing.

@hockeyjunkie: who is Shane Hollander’s partner? That statement was so vague, but I want to know who’s got Shane’s heart! #shanehollander

@ShaneMetros24: It kills me that there is no update about the best player in the MHL. I want to know that he’s okay. #shanehollander #getwellsoonshane

@HockeyFanSH24: Is it just me checking every minute for news on Shane Hollander? I always think no news is good news, but right now, I dont think its a good thing 🙁 #shanehollander

Ilya clicked off, unable to read the worry that was evident amongst hockey fans for Shane. He couldn’t bear the weight of their worry as well as his own. What was nice, though, was how it didn’t seem to matter whose team people supported, they were all rallying and wishing Shane well. Something like this was bigger than hockey, and it seemed most fans knew this. Ilya knew his own socials had been too quiet lately, but he couldn’t bring himself to post anything at all.

He’d just pulled one of Shane’s cosy blankets onto his lap when his phone rang loudly, the sound startling him. Ilya swore in Russian when he knocked it off the arm of the sofa, and he quickly snatched it up, frowning when he saw Yuna’s name on the screen. He’d somehow missed two text messages, and he hurriedly pressed to answer the call.

“Yuna? Is everything-”

“Ilya, can you get back to the hospital?”

“What is wrong-” Ilya stilled as he heard commotion in the background of the call. He was already up and in the hallway pulling on his shoes, waiting for more information. “Yuna, please-”

“The doctors. They came in and spoke to us. We asked to wait for you, but-” Ilya waved off her words, not caring, just wanting to know more. “They aren’t happy with his scans. Ilya, please hurry, you need to be here.”

Just thirty minutes later, Ilya was slamming through the door into Shane’s room. Instead of the usual silence, he was greeted with Yuna and David holding each other to the side of the room, while medical staff buzzed around the bed, tending to Shane.

“What is happening?” Ilya asked, grabbing Yuna’s arm for some sort of comfort, eyes frantically sweeping around the room.

“We don’t really know. They just said they need to try and wake Shane up soon. Maybe I shouldn’t have called you, or made you panic-”

“You did right thing,” Ilya reassured her, because he meant it. He wanted to be there for any development, no matter how small. One of the doctors came over to them, and explained in a slow and careful voice that they wanted to assess Shane’s neurological function. The scan they’d done the evening before had shown some abnormalities, and it was decided that they needed to try this now. Ilya only began to breathe again when the doctors left, discussing what would happen tomorrow between themselves. It was terrifying, but Ilya understood this had to happen.

A plan was put in place to officially begin to bring Shane off sedation the next morning, giving the Hollanders and Ilya time to prepare. It was already heading towards the evening, but there was no way Ilya was leaving again. He could see that Yuna and David looked absolutely drained, and he hated that they were being forced to wait again for answers, especially when there were no guarantees that the answers would be welcome.

“You need to sleep,” Ilya insisted, later that night when the adrenaline pumping around his body had finally subsided. The unit had gone quiet, with many visitors either leaving for the night or settling down next to their loved ones. Ilya had already made up his cot, and was gently trying to persuade David to take Yuna back to Shane’s. Who knew what tomorrow might bring, and they needed rest. “I will call if anything happens.”

“We know you will. Just… it’s hard, leaving him like this,” David admitted, tears shining in his eyes. “I’m just glad that he’s never alone.”

“He will never be alone,” Ilya said, squeezing Shane’s hand. “Please, go and rest. Shane would want you to, and I do not want him telling me off if he finds out I let you stay here so much.” Ilya knew that talking about the future like this was almost too hopeful, but he couldn’t help it. He had to remain positive, otherwise the darkness that was lingering at the edge of his world would consume everything. “Then we can face tomorrow together.”

It took a while longer, but David agreed, taking Yuna back to Shane’s home with him. Yuna hugged him tightly before she left, and Ilya allowed himself to relax into it, knowing with a certainty he felt deeply that he wasn’t ever going to lose this woman from his life. They closed the door behind them and Ilya and Shane were alone again.

Well practised at this by now, Ilya decided to care for Shane in the only way he could right now. He ran a bowl of warm water and took a new washcloth, setting it down on the small side table. He carefully dampened the cloth and began to run it over Shane’s face, as always taking care not to wet any of the dressings or tapes on his face. He was grateful the nurses had removed the tapes covering his eyes a few days ago. They had been hard to look at.

Ilya allowed his mind to drift into memories as he continued to clean Shane, making the most of the time alone with him. He remembered how they’d shared a bath in the penthouse of one hotel late the previous year, Shane sinking back against Ilya’s chest. It was one of the first times that Ilya realised he wanted this all of the time, that he was only happy when he was around Shane. He’d always so badly wanted Shane to stay the night but he’d never had the courage to ask him before Shane was slipping out of the door, wishing him a quiet goodnight.

Now, Ilya would give anything to hear Shane’s voice again, to hear him share his secrets, his hopes for the hockey season, for the future. It was a future they hadn’t dared to speak about before, everything too tentative and unsure to dare voice aloud. Right now, Ilya would say it all. What Shane meant to him, how he pictured their future, how he wanted to share every moment with him. He’d been lost for so long, but Shane had found him, and accepted Ilya for who he was. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to tell Shane just how much that meant to him.

When he was done, Ilya wrung out the cloth over the small sink in the corner of the room. He was just washing his own hands when he heard an abnormal run of beeps coming from the machines at Shane’s side, patterns he hadn’t heard before. He grabbed a paper towel and dried his hands, frowning as he turned back to Shane. Everything looked the same but-

His hand.

Ilya held his breath as he walked over and stared at it, willing it to move again. He was certain he hadn’t imagined it. Shane’s hand had twitched. Scared but also hopeful, Ilya reached out and lifted the hand up, kissing the back of it gently. The breathing machines whirred and hissed in their usual rhythm, but the beeps kept coming, loud and obtrusive in the silence of the room.

Then everything changed.

Shane’s body started to shake, almost violently. His limbs were taut and the jerking looked unnatural, like it would be causing Shane pain if he was awake. He yelled his name hopelessly, and tears fell down his face as he watched Shane continue to shake, the machine's cacophony deafening as they protested against whatever was happening.

In a panic, Ilya reached up and slammed his hand hard against the red emergency buzzer. Alarms rang, and within seconds, the room was flooded with medical professionals, one of them dragging him away from the bed.

“Shane- no, Shane, no! Don’t go-” Ilya yelled, voice hoarse and full of terror, broken sobs cutting him off. “Please, Shane. Don’t leave me, please-”

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary

Ilya and the Hollanders come to terms reality.

Guilt threatens to overwhelm Ilya.

Hayden and Ilya have an honest conversation.

Chapter Notes

All I can keep saying is thank you so much.

All the pained comments from yesterday just had me in a chokehold. The way everyone has taken my little story into their hearts has been everything.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please, please do let me know your thoughts in the comments. They're honestly my favourite thing ever. x

“Shane- no, Shane, no! Don’t go-” Ilya yelled, voice hoarse and full of terror, broken sobs cutting him off. “Please, Shane. Don’t leave me, please-”

As the doctors and nurses started to work on Shane, who was still violently shaking in his bed, Ilya kept yelling, utterly terrified.

“Help him! Please, help him, I cannot lose him-”

Still trembling with fear, Ilya grabbed his phone from his pocket. He could barely see the screen through his tears but he managed to pull up Yuna’s contact, hitting the button to call her. It took a few rings before she answered, and Ilya just managed to let out a sob of-

“Shane-”

Silence.

“Ilya, what’s wrong?”

“Shane, is bad. Come, please-” He started to cry again, putting his own hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs.

“Ilya, you need to talk to me,” Yuna demanded on the phone, as Ilya stood to the side of Shane’s bed, feeling completely useless but unable to drag himself away. He couldn’t leave Shane like this. It was like torture, watching him shake so violently, watching the doctors pushing unknown vials of medicine into his veins, but he knew they were trying to help him. He could hear them getting into the car, already on their way to their son. Ilya could only hope it wouldn’t be too late. “Ilya! Talk to us, please.”

“Sorry, he… Shane, he shakes. I, I got help-” Ilya couldn’t find the words, and the tears were still flowing, making it hard for him to find the right words in Russian, let alone in English. This was too much, he couldn’t do this.

“Did he have a seizure? Ilya, was it a seizure?”

“Yes, I think. Doctors are here, they are helping… I do not want him to die-”

“Is that Mr Hollander’s parents?” Ilya nodded to the nurse who was speaking to him. “Let me speak to them. I understand this is a lot for you right now, just go and be with him. The doctors will let you sit with him.”

Ilya looked over, grateful to see that the violent shaking had subsided into smaller, less frequent shakes. The nurse was talking quietly into Ilya’s phone to Shane’s parents, while another had gently coaxed him over, promising that Shane was okay for now. Ilya hovered nervously at his bedside, looking down at Shane’s body.

“You can touch him. Talk to him, they say patients in comas can hear us. If he can hear you, I’m sure he’ll want to hear your voice. It’ll be comforting to him to know you’re here.”

“What happened?” Ilya dared to ask when his breathing was calmer, even though his heart was still racing in his chest.

“The pressure in his brain is rising, from the prolonged sedation. We’ve given him some medication to help that for now, but we need to start weaning him off the sedation as a matter of urgency now.”

“You are going to wake him?”

“We’re going to try,” the doctor gently corrected, giving Ilya a wary look. “You understand that we can’t promise anything, don’t you? This is a setback we didn’t foresee, and I think we need to be cautious with how we proceed. I’m sorry but I cannot guarantee that Mr Hollander will come through this-”

“Shane. His name is Shane, please.”

“Sorry. Shane has been in a coma for almost two weeks now. There has been little sign of improvement, and the more time passes, the more we become concerned. Neurologically, it is hard to say how things are until we can wake him up and assess fully.”

Ilya nodded, but he was still struggling to understand. The Hollanders were on their way, but they wouldn’t be here for a while yet. Ilya had to do this alone for now. He grabbed Shane’s hand again, not wanting to let go.

“Okay. So tomorrow?”

“Yes. Tomorrow morning we will start to reduce the sedation. He’s been heavily sedated for a long time, and the ventilator has been breathing for him, so his body will fight this. It may take us days to wake him fully, if we can wake him at all. I’m sorry to say it like this, but we have to be honest with you. You have to realise that there is a possibility that Shane won’t wake up from this, and if he does, he may be very different from the man you knew.”

Ilya refused to believe this but he nodded, knowing the quickest way to be left alone was to agree with everything the doctors were saying. They asked if Ilya had any more questions but he shook his head, turning his focus back to Shane. He looked peaceful again, the tightness all but gone from his body now they’d given him medication to calm him. The numbers on the screen looked somewhat normal, and everything seemed calmer.

He began to whisper to Shane when he was eventually left alone, only waiting for Yuna and David to arrive.

“Shane, come on. You need to fight this, my love, you need to come back to me. They say you may not wake up but I know this is not true. You are Shane Hollander. This is so scary but you are brave, so strong and brave. I will not let you leave me, Shane. Not now, not when I love you so much.”

******

Thankfully, it wasn’t long until Yuna and David were dashing into the room, pain and concern splashed all over their faces. They didn’t have to hide a single emotion, and Ilya stepped back as they each took a side of their son’s bed, Yuna breathing heavily while David cried quietly. They glanced up at the monitors at the side of Shane’s bed and Ilya wondered for a moment if they understood more of it than he did.

“Ilya… what happened?” David asked, needing to have the gaps filled in.

“I don’t know. I help wash him, like I do,” he started, Yuna nodding along and David just staring at him. “He moved, his hand move. I thought maybe he was waking. But then… he started to shake. It was- awful.”

“That must have been so frightening, Ilya. I’m sorry you had to do that alone. We’re grateful you were here with him,” Yuna said, reaching for Ilya, but instinctively, he moved away. His mouth was dry, his throat hurt from crying, and all he felt was guilt. He was here when this had happened. He’d done something to make this happen to Shane, and if he didn’t wake up, it would be Ilya’s fault.

“I’m sorry. I just- I can’t do this-” Ilya blurted out, stumbling away from where he was standing next to Yuna. Tears clouded his vision as he all but ran to the door, yanking it open and running through it. He couldn’t think as he desperately ran down the corridor, unable to focus on anything. All he could hear in his head was the awful shrill noise of the blaring alarms, the horrendous thuds as Shane’s body had bucked repeatedly against the bed in the middle of the seizure.

Unable to head into the main body of the hospital for fear of being spotted, Ilya barrelled through a doorway to a stairwell. It was cool and quiet, and he hurried into a far corner, sinking to the floor, his hands covering his face as he sobbed, the noise echoing grotesquely in the confined space.

It was like a prolonged, violent torture. Every time Ilya allowed his eyes to close, he pictured Shane like that, his body failing him, causing him harm. Ilya pulled at the skin of his hands, wanting to feel any hurt that wasn’t caused by his guilt, by his certainty that he’d done this to the man he loved.

“Ilya? Can I… can I come closer?”

Ilya recognised Yuna’s voice, but he couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t face the women whose son he had broken.

“Ilya, honey, I don’t blame you. This is not your fault, okay? Ilya, please let me hug you, sweetheart.”

“If he dies, I will never forgive myself. I cannot live without him-”

“I know, honey,” Yuna said softly, kneeling on the dirty, cold concrete floor at Ilya’s side, not yet touching him. “Ilya, I wish I could take your pain away. I wish I could say everything was going to be okay, because that is the only thing I want in the world, for all of us. I want my son to wake up, and for this to all be a horrible nightmare. But you know I can’t do that, don’t you? I can’t promise you this will have a happy ending, Ilya, as much as it breaks me to say that to you.”

“I am so alone,” Ilya sobbed, his voice cracking with his words. He felt arms wrap around him and for once, Ilya relinquished control. He turned and leaned into Yuna’s body, letting himself be held in a way that he hadn’t felt since he was a boy, since he was forced to grow up fast and become a man the moment his mother left him. He let her hold him, cradling and shushing him gently as they cried together, for the man they both loved, because they were utterly helpless in every way. “I will never replace him, Yuna… I-”

“I know, sshhhh,” she whispered, stroking his hair in a way that Shane used to do, when he allowed himself to remove the mask he steadfastly wore to hide his true self from the world, but never from Ilya. Yuna offering comfort when her own heart was no doubt breaking meant everything to Ilya. “But you know you’ll never be alone now, don’t you? You have David and I. We’re family, Ilya.”

“Thank you. I… I think that helps.”

“Good. Because no matter what happens with Shane, you have us.”

Ilya wasn’t sure how long they stayed there on the floor, wrapped up in each other. Eventually, his tears subsided, and his breaths calmed down, but the guilt weighed heavily on him. It was Yuna who pulled back first, cupping Ilya’s face in her small hands. The look she gave him was full of kindness and love. This was a woman who saw Ilya for what he was - a man in love, praying for a miracle.

They didn’t say a word as they walked together out of the stairwell. She held his hand tightly as she led him back to Shane’s room, repeating promises that neither she nor David blamed him for what had happened, and that was reinforced when David just walked over and hugged Ilya as they returned to the room. Ilya had never had this. He’d never had a father who had comforted him, who had offered him a place and feeling of safety. All of this felt so foreign to Ilya, a man used to only relying on himself, but at the same time, it was so welcome. Ilya wasn’t sure how he got so lucky as to get to have the Hollanders in his life, in his corner.

“He’s still with us,” David reassured him, his arm around Ilya’s shoulders as he walked him back to Shane’s bedside. “I know it’s hard right now, Ilya. But we have to be strong for Shane. He needs us here with him, fighting for him because right now, he can’t do that for himself. Do you think you can do that?”

“I can try,” Ilya mumbled, wishing he possessed just an ounce of the strength Shane’s parents were showing right now. It was no wonder they had raised such a perfect human being. “I will try my best.”

****

The next day, Hayden came back to visit Shane. The doctors had attempted to take Shane off the ventilator earlier that morning, asking Ilya and the Hollanders to step outside the room why they did so. Ilya had paced back and forth until someone had come back out, informing them that Shane wasn’t able to breathe over the vent, that he wasn’t attempting to breathe on his own yet. Ilya’s heart had sunk at the news, and had barged past the doctor, sitting down at Shane’s side, praying softly in Russian for him to please fight, that he needed him. Yuna had told him later that they were going to give it another twenty four hours before they tried again.

Yuna had had a phone call with Hayden the night before, while Ilya slept fitfully on the cot bed, refusing to leave. David had gone out to get them food, but Ilya hadn’t been able to eat anything. He’d been surprised when the mattress had moved and he looked up, seeing Pike looking down at him. He was still obviously in a lot of pain from the stiff way he moved, but he looked much improved on what Ilya had seen just over a week ago.

“Rozanov. Come on, man. You know Shane would be absolutely kicking your ass right now if he saw you like this,” Hayden said, trying to be jovial, giving Ilya a small smile. “He’s gonna be okay.”

“How do you know? He hasn’t woken up. Is not a good sign,” Ilya said, his voice dull, heavy with pain. “I miss him so much.”

“So do I. You don’t think I wish this hadn’t happened? That it was me there instead of him-”

“No,” Ilya said, sitting up quickly, staring at Pike. “Shane would not want this. You have children, and Jackie… Shane would want you with them.”

Ilya stood up then, surprised to see Yuna and David were no longer in the room.

“They’ve gone to the break room to see Jackie and the kids. We don’t want them to see their Uncle Shane like this.” Hayden slowly walked over to Shane, resting a hand on his bare shoulder. “This doesn’t feel real. Like, Shane is so full of life. How is this happening?”

“This is what I ask myself,” Ilya said. “I have not been to church since I was young. But I pray for Shane. For him to be okay.”

Hayden nodded, and the two men sat in silence, united by their love for the man between them. Ilya saw how Hayden shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair, and he stood, grabbing a pillow from the chair in the corner of the room, helping Hayden lean forward as he pushed it behind him.

“How are you doing?” Ilya asked, genuinely wondering how Shane’s best friend was faring. He was grateful that Hayden was much better, even if it did make Shane’s situation seem all the worse. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“The doctors have me on some good stuff,” Hayden joked, but Ilya could see the pain he was masking behind his eyes. Ilya took a moment to look closer. The bruises that had been bright on Hayden’s face were now faded, a deep yellow and purple mottled over his skin. The cuts were healing well, but Ilya could make out the stitches still along his hairline. His arm was still strapped to his body, and Ilya was sure it was hurting. “I’m in pain, I won’t lie. But I have nothing to moan about, not when he’s…” Hayden trailed off, not needing to finish that sentence. “Yuna told me about last night. I’m really sorry you had to see that, it must’ve been awful.”

“Yes,” Ilya said. “Terrifying.”

“Listen, I know we don’t know each other that well. But you’re important to Shane, and I… I think what you’re doing, being here, it’s awesome. Really. If you need someone to talk to, or somewhere to go that isn’t here, or Shane’s place… you’re welcome at ours. It’s loud, there’s kid shit all over the place but it’s safe, and it’s somewhere you can escape to.”

Ilya was touched by the offer, even if he was certain he wouldn’t take Pike up on it. The man had enough going on without an emotionally bereft Russian turning up on his doorstep. “That is kind. Thank you.”

Hayden reached into his pocket, wincing as his shoulder twisted with the movement. He pulled out a small piece of paper and unfolded it, passing it across the bed to Ilya.

“My phone number, and Jackie’s. If you need to talk, or whatever. Any time. I’m not sure if you have anyone that knows about the two of you other than Shane’s parents so…”

“Marlowe. He knows. He figured it out,” Ilya admitted. “He came to Montreal. I saw him.”

“Was he okay about it?”

Ilya nodded. “Yes. He was shocked, like you, but something like this. It puts everything into… I forget the word. Makes it seem less important.”

“Puts it into perspective,” Hayden said, and Ilya nodded. “I get that. Nothing much matters when the people you love are in trouble.”

They chatted for a little while more, Ilya explaining in his terrible medical language about how the doctors wanted to begin to reduce Shane’s sedation, and to begin to wean him off the ventilator, to see if he would breathe on his own. He explained that today’s earlier attempt hadn’t been successful, and he saw the slump in Pike’s shoulders, how downcast he looked at the lack of any good news.

Hayden looked uncertain when he glanced back up at Ilya. “Do you… do you think there is hope?”

“I have to believe it,” Ilya said gently. “Because world without Shane Hollander is world I do not want to belong to.”

They sat quietly as Shane continued to lay between them, the men he loved in different ways each there to support him, willing him to fight, to survive. Time moved on, and eventually, it was time for Hayden to return to his family. As Hayden stood to leave, he stumbled, collapsing back into the chair.

“Fuck. Ouch. This fucking shoulder.”

“Let me help,” Ilya insisted, hurrying around to help Hayden to his feet. He steadied the man, and held open the door. “I will come and say hello to Jackie and Pike children.”

They walked quietly down the corridor to each other, and Ilya could hear the Pike family before he saw them. The twins were just four years old, and their youngest, Arthur was nearly two, and they all ran excitedly at Hayden as he walked into the room. Ilya hung back, feeling a little out of his comfort zone, but felt pleased when Jackie hurried over, wrapping Ilya up in a big hug.

“How are you doing?” she asked gently, and he just gave her a smile and a nod, unable to form an answer at that moment. “I hope Hayd gave you our numbers. We’re serious, please come over or call us at any time.”

“Thank you,” Ilya said, and he looked down as he felt an insistent hand pulling at the leg of his sweatpants. The little boy was looking up curiously at him, and Jackie laughed. “Um.”

“Oh dear, you’ll have to pick him up now,” she said with a big smile. “He likes to be held, to look in people’s faces. He spent the first year of his life just staring in wonder at Shane.”

“Yes, I can understand that,” Ilya muttered as he reached down, carefully lifting the boy under his arms, settling him on his hip. Ilya hadn’t spent much time around children, and he felt awkward but something about the boy in his arms helped him to relax. “Hello. I am Ilya.”

Instead of replying with words, the little boy just rested both small hands on Ilya’s cheeks, staring deep into his eyes. Ilya had the oddest feeling that he was staring through to his very soul, that he understood exactly how Ilya was feeling, and just a second later, Arthur leaned into Ilya, resting his head on his shoulder. He swallowed back the tears he felt, and felt grateful when Jackie rubbed a gentle hand on his back.

“They say kids are a great judge of character,” she said softly, Yuna watching from the other side of the room. “We have to stay positive, okay? I know this is hard. And I know I’m in a better place right now than you because I have Hayd here, and he’s okay. But I have to believe Shane is going to be okay too, because the alternative is unthinkable.”

Ilya nodded, looking around the room. The girls were sitting with Hayden now, chatting to him as they drew with crayons on paper that was left there for visitors, Hayden trying to simultaneously hold a conversation with them as well as Yuna and David. All of the people in this room loved Shane. Ilya just hoped Shane knew how many people were here waiting and praying for him to come back to them.

*****

Ilya had used the pitiful excuse of a shower at the hospital that night. Yuna and David had gone back to Shane’s home again, with a copy of the timetable the doctors had given them. They’d presented a more aggressive plan for starting a new attempt to wake Shane up to them once Hayden, Jackie and the children had left, and Ilya had sat nervously jiggling his leg, until Yuna had rested a hand on his leg, stilling him.

They’d already begun to lower the sedation bit by bit, and the doctors were going to attempt to wean Shane off the ventilator tomorrow, needing to know if he could breathe independently. They were hopeful that with lower sedation levels in his system that Shane’s body would attempt to breathe. It was a terrifying thought, but Ilya knew it was necessary. He’d forced down some toast that Yuna had insisted he’d eaten before they’d left that evening, and now, he was alone with Shane again.

In a way, Ilya was frightened that what happened the night previously would happen again. But the doctors had reassured him it was a one off, that they didn’t expect it to reoccur. That didn’t ease Ilya’s anxiety, but he tried to push the terrible thoughts away, pulling over the soft armchair so he could curl up next to Shane.

He’d given up on reading. The words were just swimming around on the page, the cyrillic letters too much to deal with. Instead, he’d accepted David’s offer of his iPad, and was watching old hockey matches on one of David’s sports channel subscriptions. At first, he’d avoided watching anything with himself or Shane in it, but then an old Metros vs Admirals game had switched on when he’d gone to use the bathroom. He’d bitten his lip as he’d watched Shane skating so beautifully on the ice, making everything he was doing look so easy. Ilya just watched in awe, hoping he’d get to see Shane on the ice again one day.

Ilya was reading a head on a pillow next to Shane’s, and for a brief moment, it felt like they were sharing a bed again, just like before. He knew it wasn’t the same, because Shane wasn’t chiding him for making a mess, or for not folding his hoodie at the end of the bed. But it was better than nothing and right now, Ilya was clinging to anything that gave him comfort.

His hand was wrapped around Shane’s as always, and when his phone pinged, he shifted the iPad slightly, pulling out his phone.

He locked his phone and tucked it back on the side table, refocusing on the match. He laughed as Scott Hunter began chirping at Pike, watching as Shane laughed from the sidelines at whatever was being said. Shane had never been much of a fighter, preferring to hold the upper hand with his cool, calm demeanour, something Ilya had never managed. Secretly, he thought that Shane liked the fact he was a bit rough and ready with his fists when the situation arose.

Ilya’s eyes were heavy, the dim lights of Shane’s room doing nothing to help him stay awake. He knew that really, he should be getting into his bed if he was this tired, that he’d regret it in the morning when he woke up with a sore neck and a bad back. But he was too comfortable, curled up next to the man he loved.

The commentary of the match was too low to make out any words, but the familiarity of the crowd noise was helping Ilya to relax. The guilt that had weighed so heavily on him for most of the day had finally started to lift, when he realised that nobody blamed him for what had happened. For once, Ilya felt surrounded by the one thing he’d been missing for so long. A family.

His eyes were almost closed when he felt it. He blinked, thinking he must have been imagining it but when it happened again, he sat up quickly, hardly daring to believe it, not after what had happened the night before. As he pushed himself upright and turned toward Shane, he caught sight of something that made his heart feel as if it might burst from his chest.

Shane’s beautiful brown eyes were open - and looking straight into his, stealing the air from Ilya’s lungs and unraveling him in an instant.

“Oh my god. Shane.”

Chapter 8

Chapter Summary

Shane wakes up from his coma.

Ilya waits patiently.

Chapter Notes

Still overwhelmed.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

You have all made me brave.

Chloe.x

“Oh my god. Shane-”

A sob fell from Ilya’s lips as he scrambled to his feet, almost unable to believe what he was seeing. Shane’s eyes slowly fluttered shut before they opened slowly again seconds later, like Shane was forcing himself to stay awake, like he wanted to show Ilya he was there. It was almost overwhelming, and Ilya pinched himself hard, wanting to make sure this was real, that his Shane was awake.

“Shane, oh my god, I-” Ilya was crying as he leaned in, cupping Shane’s cheek, looking at him with utter reverence. His hand was shaking but he didn’t care. It was too much but in the very best way. “You didn’t leave me. I’m here, can you hear me, Shane?”

Shane continued just to stare at him, but Ilya didn’t care. He knew that really, he should go and get a nurse or a doctor, to tell them that Shane was awake, but he couldn’t bear to leave.

“Can you hear me, moy lyubimii?” Ilya said more softly, wondering if the Russian sentiment he used often to Shane would stir something in him, some sort of recognition. It was dawning on Ilya that maybe Shane was struggling, that he didn’t know who he was. He felt sick at the thought, but continued to talk, hoping it would jog something in Shane’s long term memory. “Let me know you’re with me, Hollander.”

There was no reply. Shane just continued to stare ahead of him, his body still but Ilya didn’t read too deeply into it just yet. Shane was awake. Surely this had to be good news.

“I need to get someone. Stay awake for me, please-” Ilya leaned in, kissing Shane’s head several times before he hurried away, determined to get back as soon as he could. It was quiet and dim in the corridor but Ilya ran to the main desk, seeing several nurses sitting, with a doctor chatting to them. “Shane is awake.”

They all jumped to their feet, and Ilya led the way back to Shane’s room, quickly grabbing his hand and talking to him. Shane was still blinking heavily, like it was a real effort to keep his eyes open.

“Hi Shane, it’s so good to see you,” the doctor said to him with a smile. “If you can hear me, and you understand me, can you blink for me please?” Ilya waited with bated breath, each second that passed by feeling like an hour. He let out a sigh of relief when, eventually, Shane blinked, his hand still loosely within Ilya’s. “Good, that’s excellent. Don’t try to talk, okay? You have a tube in your throat to help you breathe. I know it’s uncomfortable, but we’ll try to take that out soon.”

Shane blinked again, and Ilya knew he was trying to tell everyone that he heard, that he understood. While the doctor and nurses continued to talk to Shane, Ilya grabbed his phone and unlocked it, texting one-handed.

It was only seconds before messages pinged quickly back.

Ilya quickly turned to Shane, cupping his cheek again.

“Your parents are coming,” he said quietly, and Shane just blinked back at him. Ilya stroked over his freckles, unable to stop smiling. “They will be here, Shane. Everyone is going to be so happy you are okay.”

“We’re going to leave the tube in for now,” the doctor said, getting Ilya’s attention. “He’s exhausted, and we don’t want to further exhaust him by pushing too much too soon. He’ll probably sleep again soon, the sedation is still in his system. But this is such a positive sign. He’s cognitive so far, responsive to commands which is excellent news.” Ilya smiled and nodded. “Are his parents on their way?”

“Yes, I tell them. They will be so happy.”

“I’m sure,” the doctor agreed. “We’re going to be popping back more regularly now Shane is awake, but you can sit with him. Talk to him, let him know you’re here. He’ll need a lot of reassurance at the moment.”

“Will he… know me?”

“Let’s give him some time to fully wake before we get too concerned,” the doctor said kindly, resting a hand on Ilya’s back. "He's been through a lot. Everything might take some time. We need to be patient. I’ll leave you both alone for now. Come and get us, or use the emergency buzzer if you need us.”

A few minutes later, the medics had stopped fussing over Shane and Ilya was finally alone with Shane. He pulled his chair back up to the bed and lifted Shane’s hand to his lips, kissing it.

“You are so beautiful,” Ilya said, with a voice of utter wonder. “Look at you. You do not know how long I have waited to see your beautiful eyes again.”

Ilya continued to talk to Shane about anything and everything, avoiding talking about the accident for now. He had no idea where Shane was mentally with all of this, and he knew that was a conversation he wanted to have with Yuna and David too, much later on. He told Shane that Hayden had been in to see him, that he had had people all over the world praying for him, wishing him well.

The door burst open a short while later, making Ilya jump out of his skin. A frazzled and sweaty Yuna burst into the room and immediately burst into loud sobs, hurrying over to Shane and burying her face into his neck, holding him closely. For the first real time, Ilya could see the toll this had taken on her, how much she’d been holding herself together.

David followed seconds later, and Ilya backed up a little, trying to give them space. They both cried and hugged him, but they all worried when the monitor started to sound.

“His heart rate is going up,” Yuna commented, rubbing her tears away. “Oh god.”

“Should I get someone?” David asked, but Yuna stopped him with a raised hand.

“No, wait. Just… Ilya, come back here, hold his hand.”

It felt to Ilya like he held too much power when Shane looked up at him, their eyes meeting again, and his heart rate almost immediately settled when Ilya wrapped his fingers around Shane’s hand. He gave him a soft smile, and Shane’s eyes shone with unshed tears. It was the first time Ilya felt that Shane recognised him, that he remembered who he was. As a tear slowly escaped the corner of Shane’s eye, Ilya reached over, wiping it away softly.

“Wow. I… I don’t think you can doubt for a second how my son feels about you,” Yuna whispered, realising fully just how much these two men were meant for each other. “I knew he’d make it back to us. We’re so happy you’re with us, sweetheart. We’ve all missed you so much, Shane.”

Shane’s eyes flitted to his mums, but then straight back to Ilya’s. Ilya couldn’t help himself. The words couldn’t stay inside anymore.

“I love you, Shane,” Ilya said, not caring that Shane’s parents were hearing him say this to their son for the first time. “I love you so much.”

Nobody missed how tears flowed freely from Shane’s eyes at those words, and Yuna cried again, turning and burying her head in David’s chest, the pair clutching each other tightly.

“Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Ilya whispered, leaning down, rubbing his nose gently against Shane’s. “I can’t do this again. You need to be here with me, you need to let me spend rest of our lives making you so happy.”

*****

The night was long after that. Shane was clearly exhausted and fell asleep a short while after his parents had arrived. However, neither Ilya or Shane’s parents managed to get any sleep. They were far too excited about the fact Shane had woken up of his own accord, and spent the time talking, all of them having physical contact with Shane, happily sitting around his bed. Ilya continued to hold his hand, David had a hand on Shane’s thigh while Yuna held his other hand.

The doctors had come back in at just after seven in the morning, and finally, Shane stirred again. Once more, he looked for Ilya first and squeezed his hand before he slowly turned his head, finding the eyes of his parents. As the doctor spoke, Shane’s eyes fluttered shut again, and this time, Ilya just let him sleep. He had no idea what must be going on in Shane’s head, and he was hopeful they might be able to get some answers.

“We want to extubate him shortly, and then we can go from there.”

“Sorry. What is this extubate?” Ilya asked, frustrated that he couldn’t keep up with the conversation.

“They want to take the tube out, honey,” Yuna said with a smile.

“Sorry, yes. Then we want to take Shane to get another scan of his brain now he is awake, just to make sure everything is okay. Then it’ll be a matter of some neurological functioning tests to see where we need to go with occupational and physical therapy. You need to be prepared for the fact that Shane may be very disorientated at first, he may struggle with words and names. Aphasia is common at this stage.”

“That means his language may be affected. Not necessarily permanently,” David chimed in, and Ilya nodded, grateful that this time he didn’t need to ask for a more basic translation. “I had a friend at work who suffered with this after a stroke. With lots of therapy, he worked through it.”

“Obviously, this is an incredibly positive sign, that he has woken up alone without medical intervention. But we still need to be cautious, and to take things slowly.”

There was one question Ilya had to know the answer to.

“Will he remember, about accident, I mean?”

The look on Yuna and David’s faces told Ilya that they had had the same question, and they all awaited the doctor’s answer.

“Usually, after a traumatic brain injury like this, no. He won’t remember the accident, or probably much from the days or weeks before. He may be confused, so it’s important we manage his expectations and emotions. It’s a great sign that he seems to recognise all of you, that isn’t always the case after waking up from trauma like Shane has been through. So for now, we need to keep visitors to a minimum until Shane is completely stable. That means just the three of you for now, please.”

“Of course. Can we stay with him?”

“It’s important that you do,” the doctor agreed. “Familiar faces and voices will be comforting to Shane during this time. We’ll get everything ready for the extubation, and then we will give him a while to reorient himself.”

The medical team left them alone, and they all returned to their focus back to Shane. It didn’t hurt now, watching Shane sleep, because Ilya knew he was in there, that this sleep was temporary. Shane had fought his way back, perhaps against the odds, and was going to be okay. Ilya knew that no matter the struggles that still lay ahead, he and Shane’s parents would be there every step of the way.

Just an hour later, Ilya, Yuna and David huddled nervously together as the doctors began the process of extubating Shane. While Shane had slept, Ilya had googled it, determined to know what to expect so he wouldn’t react badly in front of Shane. The videos he had forced himself to watch hadn’t seemed too horrific, and the three people who loved Shane quickly assured the doctors they wanted to stay throughout the process.

As they prepared everything, Ilya could hear the machine that was still monitoring Shane’s heart start to beep a little faster. He was used to the sound but still, he hated it.

“Right, uh, Shane’s Mom, could you come and hold his hand please? He’s getting a little anxious about what is happening,” came a voice, and Ilya was surprised when Yuna reached for his arm, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, smiling at him.

“He’ll want you, honey. Go and hold his hand, Ilya. We’ll be here.”

Ilya’s heart felt full at how easily Yuna had realised that the person Shane needed right now might just be him. Secretly, Ilya had felt so happy earlier when Shane had sought him out, which hopefully indicated that he knew exactly who Ilya was, and that he remembered whatever had been happening between them.

Feeling more nervous than he had in a while, Ilya stepped around the bed and stood quietly, reaching for Shane’s hand. He wasn’t surprised that Shane turned immediately to look at him, his freckles as beautiful as always, and his brown eyes locked onto Ilya’s blue.

“Hey…” Ilya said, smiling softly down at Shane. “We’re all here. You’re good here, Shane. They’re just taking out tube so you can talk to us. I can’t wait to hear your voice. I have missed it so much.” Ilya didn’t care about the words tumbling freely from his mouth now, he couldn’t stop now he knew that Shane could hear him. “Don’t be scared, moy lyubov. I am here.”

Ilya fell quiet again as the doctors started speaking, and finally, they were beginning to pull the tube out of Shane’s throat. It wasn’t pleasant but Ilya’s eyes flitted between looking at what was happening, and Shane’s eyes, reaching over to wipe away the tears that fell onto Shane’s cheeks.

“Try and cough for me, Shane, that’s it,” the doctor encouraged, and with a sharp tug and a pained cough from Shane, the tube was out. Ilya gasped as it all happened so quickly but he smiled down at Shane again as he held his hand so tightly. “Give him some water please.”

Ilya hurriedly reached for the small cup the nurse had left on the side and passed it to a nurse as he slid a hand beneath Shane’s shoulders, helping him to lift his head enough so he could sip slowly at the water, using the straw the nurse had put in earlier. Ilya was certain he had never seen such a beautiful sight.

“Shane, do you want us to sit you up a bit?” a nurse asked, and Shane just blinked, which they took as a yes. They carefully raised the bed enough that Shane wasn’t flat, and they moved aside, finally letting David and Yuna back to his bedside. Yuna snatched up Shane’s other hand, and they sat quietly, giving Shane time. His lips kept parting like he wanted to speak, and when the words finally came, everyone was crying.

“Ilya.”

“Fuck,” Ilya sobbed, pulling Shane’s hand to his face, nuzzling against it as the tears flowed again. “Oh god, Shane. You remember.”

Shane’s voice was hoarse, weak and not like before but it was a sound that in his darkest moments, Ilya had thought he might never hear again. He hadn’t ever admitted that out loud to anyone, but that had been his deepest fear… that Shane would die not knowing how much Ilya loved him, that he’d never hear Ilya say it. That Ilya would be alone forever wondering if Shane had loved him too. Ilya listened as Shane whispered Mom and Dad quietly, watching the relief on their faces as he did so.

Ilya bit back his words as Yuna and David spoke to their son, emotions running high. It was the moment they’d all dreamed about and Ilya just sat back, letting it all sink in. No matter the struggles that Shane still had to face, he was going to be there by his side. There was nothing that they wouldn’t be able to get through together, Ilya more certain about that than anything else in his life. If he never played hockey again to support Shane, then so be it. It would be entirely worth it to have Shane alive and by his side.

“Shane, do you remember anything?” Yuna asked, and Ilya forced himself to look at Shane. He watched as he shook his head, fear apparent in his eyes. “Oh god, I don’t think I can…” Her eyes found Ilya’s and he nodded, understanding what she needed from him. After the way Yuna had looked after him, Ilya would do anything for her now.

“There was accident,” Ilya said quietly, and Shane’s eyes filled with tears again. His breaths were shaky, and Ilya didn’t miss how his heart rate was steadily rising. “I think we should wait until you are better-”

“No,” Shane whispered, and Ilya looked to the Hollanders, continuing when they indicated he should carry on speaking.

“You were in accident, in Montreal. You and Hayden.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Hayden is okay, he is home. He has been to visit you, with Jackie.”

“Me?” Shane asked, and Ilya knew this was going to be more difficult.

“You’re alive, all that matters,” Ilya said, bringing Shane’s hand to his lips and kissing it again. “You have been asleep for nearly three weeks.” Asleep felt a much nicer way of saying things, and Ilya hoped his choice of words were enough for Shane to understand. “Doctors let you rest, your brain recover.”

Shane just stared, knowing there was more.

“You have lots of cuts, bruises. Your leg was…” Ilya stumbled, finding it harder to speak about this.

“You shattered your left leg, Shane,” David said, and Ilya’s heart broke as he watched a lone tear snake down Shane’s cheek at the realisation of what that had to mean. “You’ve had surgery, they’ve pinned it back together. They’re hopeful you’ll be able to walk again. It’s going to be a lot of work, but you’re stubborn.”

“And Shane,” Yuna started, wiping away her own tears. “You need to know that we’ve been here the whole time. Your Dad and I, and Ilya, we haven’t left.” She paused, looking at Ilya before she looked at her son again. “You picked a good one, sweetheart.”

Shane was crying, and Ilya was surprised when Yuna rose from her seat, gently telling David that they needed to give Shane and Ilya some time alone. She kissed her son’s forehead, followed by David and then finally, they were gone, promising to return soon with some drinks and food for Ilya.

This time, Ilya didn’t waste a second. He pushed himself to his feet and leaned over, finally kissing Shane. Their tears mingled on their cheeks as their lips pressed together, and Ilya’s hand cupped Shane’s cheek, cradling like he was the most precious thing, which he was. They kissed softly, slowly for a few minutes before Ilya reluctantly pulled away, wanting to say so much to Shane, not knowing where to start.

He was surprised when Shane whispered first., Ilya leaning in to hear him.

“They know?”

Ilya nodded, expecting this conversation. “Yes. I am sorry. But I had to be here.”

“How?”

“I got message, from your phone about accident. I came here. David had my number, told me which hospital. They were shocked, but I think they see…” he trailed off, waving his free hand uselessly in the air. Shane slowly raised his eyebrows, and Ilya smiled to himself. “They see how much I care.”

“Your parents are amazing,” Ilya continued, meaning each word. “They have been so kind to me, Shane. They let me stay, hold your hand. We take turns to sleep here, we text to give updates. I did not want to leave but Yuna tell me I must sleep. She is scary, Shane. I cannot say no to her.”

Finally, finally, the ghost of a smile appeared on Shane’s lips. It was that which was his undoing.

“Ya tebya lublyu,” Ilya said tearfully, almost not realising he’d spoken in Russian until Shane frowned, reaching for his cheek. As Shane pressed his palm to Ilya’s face, he repeated it, this time so there was absolutely no misunderstanding. “I love you.”

There was a little space at the edge of the bed next to Shane, and Ilya couldn’t keep away any more. Carefully, he climbed on and pulled Shane into his side, cradling his body against his own.

“I love you so much. I was so scared, Shane. Terrified I would lose you. That you would not hear that I love you.”

The next words from Shane were ones Ilya would never, ever forget. Every word was an effort for Shane right now, so that made these even more precious.

“I love you too, Ilya.”

Yuna and David came back into the room almost half an hour later, and that was how they found Ilya and Shane. They were curled around each other on Shane’s small hospital bed, two men wrapped up in only each other, sound asleep. Yuna teared up, almost as if she realised that from now on, her son would always seek comfort from Ilya before he did from her. It was a natural transition, and if she was honest, she wouldn’t have been able to pick anyone for her son that was as right for him as Ilya was.

“I just…” she started as she lifted her phone from her pocket, snapping a quick photo. She knew Ilya would like to see it, and that maybe Shane would, especially if his memories of this time were going to be foggy for a few weeks. Both her and David looked down at the image, and Yuna almost wished she could show the world, show them how loved her son was, that he had such an amazing man by his side, a man that had never left.

Her and David worked together silently to cover the sleeping bodies with blankets, and she pondered if this was probably the first time Ilya had been able to relax since he’d gotten the news of Shane’s accident. The frown that had been permanently etched on his face finally seemed to have disappeared, his features soft, like he felt peaceful now that he knew Shane was going to be okay. He looked young and untroubled, with the love of his life in his arms.

“We’re so lucky,” Yuna said softly as she stroked Shane’s cheek, then Ilya’s. “I know this has been awful. I’ve never felt so scared and out of control in my life. But this has brought us Ilya. I can't ever regret that.”

“I know,” David agreed, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders as they settled into the sofa, watching the two men sleep. “And my god if I don’t want to protect our boys with everything I have, Yuna.”

Chapter 9

Chapter Summary

Ilya helps Shane work through his new version of normality.

There's an emotional reunion for Shane...

Chapter Notes

A bit of a longer one, so enjoy.

I am VERY overwhelmed by how this has blown up. I'm now scared to not meet these ridiculously high expectations.

I hope this is good enough. x

Two days later

“Good morning, beautiful,” Ilya called out as he walked into Shane’s room, a beaming smile on his face. “I have clothes for you. And they are all folded properly, look.” Ilya was ridiculously proud of that.

“Ilyaaaaaa,” Shane said with the prettiest smile Ilya had ever seen, and Ilya didn’t hesitate to dump the bag and rush to Shane’s side, leaning down and kissing him. That would never be a novelty now. Ilya was going to commit each and every kiss to memory. “Missed you.”

“I know, moy lyubov, me too. Did you sleep?”

Shane nodded slightly, which Ilya knew really meant no. Shane had been struggling with his sleep since waking from his coma. He was having flashbacks whenever he was about to fall asleep, and woke up gasping for air, panicking, wide eyes looking everywhere until they found a familiar face. It was why Yuna, David and Ilya had continued to take it in turns to stay at the hospital. Last night it had been Yuna’s turn, and now Shane was awake, David had been popping back to work for a few hours, just to keep things ticking over.

“I will stay tonight,” Ilya promised, kissing the top of Shane’s head. “Now, how about we wash? Then clothes. Proper clothes, not this awful thing,” he laughed, grabbing at the fabric of the hospital gown Shane was wearing. Shane was still hooked up to some monitors, but the doctors had agreed to let him wear his own clothes now, especially since he was expecting visitors later today.

“Morning, darling,” Yuna called to Shane as she walked into the room, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands. “Oh, Ilya, you’re early! I didn’t know you were here or I’d have made you one, sweetie.” She set down her mug and went over to Shane, kissing his head before she then went to Ilya, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “We didn’t have a good night,” she told Ilya softly, but Shane apparently missed nothing.

“I can hear you, Mom. I have a broken leg, not broken ears.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But you know how Ilya likes to be updated. Oh, proper clothes. That’ll be nice, won’t it?”

“Yeah. Um, would you mind if Ilya got me ready?” He looked exhausted at uttering just these few words, and it made Ilya realise how much work they still had to do to get Shane back to full fitness.

“Of course I don’t mind. I have a few calls to make, and we need to think about a statement now that you’re awake. I know I mentioned it yesterday but I think it’s important we update the fans. Let me draft something, I’ll be back.” In her usual fashion, Yuna swept out of the room again, closing the door behind her.

“God,” Shane sighed, leaning heavily back against his bed as Ilya prepared the bed bath, more than used to this procedure by now. This was the first time he was doing it with Shane awake, though, and he was nervous. He was so afraid of hurting him, or of doing something wrong. “She makes me tired.”

Ilya chuckled, bringing the bowl of water and washcloths to Shane’s bedside. “I know, but she is looking out for you.” He paused, hold the cloth up. “Is it okay if I…”

“Of course,” Shane said, giving Ilya a funny look. “Mom told me you helped with this when I was… yeah. So of course it’s okay.”

“Is good to check,” Ilya muttered as he began to wash Shane, still taking the utmost care over his body. Shane just relaxed and allowed Ilya to take the lead. “You are so lucky to have mom that is always on your side. Always fighting for you.”

“I know,” Shane said softly, and he reached up, pressing his palm to Ilya’s cheek. “I’m glad you’ve had her and my dad through all of this, as weird as that was at first for me. I just… I'm so sorry for putting you all through this.”

“You did not choose this,” Ilya stated matter of factly. “Close your eyes, please.” Shane did as he was asked and Ilya gently wiped the cloth over his face, relishing that he didn’t have to avoid the awful breathing tube or other wires anymore. When the cloth lowered, Ilya smiled softly and couldn’t resist leaning in, kissing Shane tenderly. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Shane replied with a small smile, and Ilya was certain he would never tire of hearing those words. “My head hurts.”

“Close your eyes, moye prekrasnoye solnyshko,” Ilya said softly, stroking Shane’s hair back from his face.

“Moy… what?” Shane asked, and as always, Ilya could deny him nothing. He blushed, although he’d deny it if anyone asked.

“My beautiful sunshine. Now rest. I will ask doctors for more pain medicine.”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you,” Shane mumbled, not even attempting to fight off the sleep that was about to consume him.

“You will never have to find out,” Ilya vowed quietly, tucking the blankets around Shane. The doctors did manage to give Shane more medication to keep his headache at bay, but by now, this seemed to be a common recurrence. Shane had luckily seemed to escape any significant side effects from his coma. He was cognizant and knew exactly who his loved ones were, he could tell you about himself and his career, he remembered that he and Ilya were something.

But Ilya knew that Shane was hiding something. He had periods of prolonged silence where he seemed to fall away into his own thoughts, and it took an effort from Ilya or his parents to bring him back to reality with them. Ilya worried about him, about the prolonged headaches and being a little absent, and had asked the doctors, but they had stated that this was normal, that Shane had been through an enormous amount of trauma, and it would take a lot of time and therapy to work through everything he’d been through.

He sat quietly in the room, watching something on his phone as Shane slept next to him. He couldn’t wait until Shane was well enough to go home, but he knew that first, they had to work on getting Shane out of the hospital bed. For some reason, he was reluctant, and Ilya had a feeling that he was scared - scared of the pain, scared of failing. Ilya wished that Shane could see how strong he was, how much he’d already overcome, against the odds.

“No-”

Ilya jumped as Shane’s voice cut through the silence, and he sat up, locking his phone and fixing his gaze on Shane. There was a deep furrow on his brow, and Ilya could see the pain etched on his face. He reached out and took Shane’s hand, saying his name and trying to wake him.

“Shane. Moy lyubov, you need to wake up. You are okay-”

“No, please-” Shane cried out, and he shifted in the bed, pulling away from Ilya. “I can’t- I can’t, it hurts-”

Shane was still trapped in the depths of sleep so Ilya stood up, shaking Shane gently at his shoulders. He was careful, knowing that Shane was still sore and aching, but this was too painful to watch. All he wanted to do was take away Shane’s pain and he felt utterly helpless.

“No, it hurts, please stop, please-” Shane begged, and Ilya’s heart ached as he watched a tear escape Shane’s screwed up eyes, trailing a path down the hollow of his cheek. Without warning, Shane began to thrash, and Ilya had horrible flashbacks of when Shane had gone into a seizure before. He froze, just watching, not knowing what to do. “No, I can’t, no, don’t!”

In desperation, unsure what else to do, Ilya kicked off his shoes and clambered onto the bed and slotted himself behind Shane. It took some manoeuvring but soon enough, Ilya had Shane’s back pulled against his chest, his arms wrapped around him.

“Shane, listen to me. You need to wake up,” he said, his deep voice stronger than before, trying to put some authority into it, hoping Shane would respond. “You are safe, and you are okay. I have you. Wake up, my love, come back to me.”

Their bodies were both tense, but Ilya didn’t let go. He held Shane as he cried out, lost in the depths of whatever nightmare he was reliving, but he wasn’t expecting when Shane gasped, his fingers digging into Ilya’s thighs, his body slumping back against Ilya’s as he started to breath heavily, his chest heaving.

“Oh god, I can’t -” Shane said as he began to sob, his entire body shaking. Ilya could only hold on as Shane turned and curled against him, grabbing a fistful of Ilya’s jumper. Ilya’s legs bracketed Shane, and he shushed him slowly as he rocked them back and forth, letting Shane cry through his emotions. He couldn’t imagine what it was like in Shane’s head at the moment, and it was hard to watch the man he loved like this. “Ilya, I fucking hate this. I can’t do this.”

“I know, my love, I hate it too,” Ilya said, bringing a softness back into his voice now Shane was present once more. “But you can do this, okay? I have got you, I will not go anywhere.”

“I need you,” Shane cried, and Ilya nodded, letting his tears soak into Shane’s hair.

“Not as much as I need you,” Ilya whispered in reply. They stayed curled up around each other until Shane’s sobs subsided, and Ilya carefully moved them until they were face to face on the bed. He was careful not to disturb Shane’s fractured leg, but smiled as Shane rested his head on Ilya’s arm, reminiscent of how they used to wind themselves around each other in bed. That felt like another lifetime now. “Were you dreaming of it?”

“The accident?”

“Yes,” Ilya replied, hoping this wasn’t too painful for Shane. “Please talk to me, Shane. I cannot help if I do not know what is hurting you here.” He gently tapped Shane’s temple, stroking his freckles again.

Shane was quiet for a few minutes, and Ilya gave him the space to think, to formulate whatever it was he wanted to confess.

“Can you… would you mind closing the blinds? The sun… it hurts my head.”

Ilya of course nodded and carefully climbed out from next to Shane, hopping down onto the floor. The floor was cold on his bare feet but he quickly walked across the room, closing the blinds enough that the light wouldn’t increase Shane’s pain but that they could still see.

“Thank you. Can you come back here? It’s easier to talk when you’re close.”

A sweet kiss was pressed to Shane’s head as Ilya got back onto the bed, tangling them together again. Ilya would be hard pressed to say where Shane began and he ended, and that was exactly how he loved it.

“I dream about it,” Shane began, his voice quiet, and Ilya had to almost strain to hear him. He stayed quiet, running his hand up and down Shane’s arm, trying to offer wordless reassurance. “The accident. I don’t remember it, but it feels like it’s some kind of flashback.”

“I am glad you do not remember.”

“I know. Me too. But I can hear screaming, and it’s coming from me. There’s tyres screeching, metal folding… and just darkness. I can feel pain, and something wet dripping down my face. I can hear you calling my name… I know you weren’t there, but in my head, you were. And you sound so fucking broken, Ilya. You’re screaming my name, telling me not to die. Then it’s just silence, like I’m gone, and- oh god, I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

Ilya sobbed into Shane, his face buried in his shoulder. Shane’s arms came around him and Ilya just cried, hoping Shane didn’t realise just how close to the mark his words were.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Shane said again, wiping away Ilya’s tears with the pad of his thumb. “I know this must have been so hard for you. I’m so sorry that I made you hurt so badly.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Ilya confessed, his voice shaky. “I have not prayed since my mother died. But I prayed for you. I prayed for you to wake up, to not leave me. Because… I do not feel right without you, Hollander. This made me realise how much I care about you, that I could not lose you.”

“I’m still here,” Shane whispered, and they kissed softly for a moment. Ilya continued to stroke the back of Shane’s neck, cherishing every moment of closeness.

“What did you tell Coach?” Shane asked a while later, when Ilya had thought he’d fallen asleep again. It seemed like Shane wanted to fill some of the gaps he’d been thinking about, and Ilya was more than happy to answer.

“I told them person I love needs me. That I would not leave until you were okay. That I would never risk not saying goodbye to you.”

“I love you so much,” Shane whispered, looking a little haunted by Ilya’s words. “Was I… was I close to… that?” Ilya looked torn, like he wasn’t sure how to answer, and Shane spoke again. “Please be honest with me. No one is telling me anything, and it’s too hard not having answers. Please, Ilya.”

“They told us that if you wake, you may be different. Not Shane we love. But they also said you may not wake up at all. But I did not believe this.”

“No?”

“No. Of course not. I knew I could not think of life without you. Have too much to look forward to, yes?”

“Oh yeah?” Shane asked with a small smile, peering up at Ilya from under his lashes. “Like what?”

Ilya thought his cheeks were reddening but he didn’t care. “Like… lots of kisses. Raiders beating Metros for Stanley Cup.”

“You asshole-”

“Maybe summers together. Alone, just you and me.” He leaned down, kissing Shane’s lips gently. “More time.” Another kiss. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Shane replied softly, kissing Ilya back. “Always.”

****

“Okay, Shane, let’s see if we can sit you up,” the physical therapist said, and Shane just scowled at her. Ilya stood back to the side of the room, arms folded across his chest as he watched on in amusement. The poor woman in front of him had no idea how stubborn Shane could be when he wanted to be. “I’m going to help you swing your legs around, then we’ll see if you can weight bear on your good leg.”

“I think I can manage by myself,” Shane started, and as he started to move his legs, he cried out, flashes of pain on his face. “Fucking shit-”

“Shane, let them help you,” Ilya said, walking over to the end of the bed. “Please, moya lyubov.”

“I can do it myself,” Shane insisted through gritted teeth, pulling his uninjured right leg around first, his foot now dangling over the side of the bed. “This fucking leg-”

The therapist sighed, looking annoyed. “Shane, you have pins in your leg. Everything is going to hurt and be stiff for a long while. We don’t want to risk any further injury so will you please let me help? I know it’s hard but you cannot do this alone right now.”

Shane’s face was hard and set, but he nodded quickly, shutting his eyes as the therapist carefully supported his leg, moving it around until he was almost ready to stand.

“No weight bearing on the broken leg,” she said, a little unnecessarily Ilya thought. “You might- oh, okay I’ve got you- a little help please-”

Ilya darted forward and caught Shane’s weight, helping lay him back down. He was flushed, and Ilya felt worried that something was wrong. She looked to Ilya, nodding reassuringly.

“This is quite normal. Shane has been laying down for an extended period, and sitting up like this can cause syncope. We’ll give him a little bit, then sit him up slowly. Okay, Shane? We’ll try again in a few minutes.”

Shane came around quickly, and Ilya smiled at him, taking the hand that Shane automatically outstretched, as if seeking Ilya out.

“Have some water,” Ilya said, passing Shane the small plastic cup from his side table. He was pleased to see Shane take a few sips before he passed it back. “Tell us when you are ready. I will help, yes?” He looked to the therapist who just nodded. “Thank you.”

“Okay, I’m alright. Let’s go again.”

This time, Shane sat up a lot slower. Ilya was helping support him and he felt grateful to feel useful, like Shane needed his help. Ilya carefully moved Shane’s legs around again, and Shane shifted forwards slightly, still wincing at the pull in his broken leg.

“Ilya, if you stand in front of Shane, hold out your arms for him. Now, Shane, use Ilya’s arms to take your weight. He’s strong, he can hold you, right?”

“Definitely,” Ilya said, locking eyes with Shane and smiling. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Shane questioned, raising an eyebrow at the man opposite him. “You’ve been spending too much time with my Mom.”

“Have loved getting to know her. Let’s go, Hollander. On your feet please.”

There was fear in Shane’s eyes as he tentatively reached out with his right foot, toes grazing the floor before he flattened it, fingers digging deeply into Ilya’s forearms. Ilya was used to Shane’s not inconsiderable weight, an athlete who was six feet tall and almost pure muscle, and he encouraged him with smiles and words. “You can do it. Go on.”

It took a few minutes for Shane to build up the courage but finally, his foot was flat on the floor and he was standing for the first time in over three weeks. His arms were shaking as they held him up, supported by Ilya’s strength, and when he finally looked up into Ilya’s eyes, he grinned.

“Hi,” Ilya grinned, feeling emotional at how they were finally eye to eye. It felt like things were finally starting to get back to normal, and he couldn’t help himself from leaning in and kissing Shane there and then, not caring who might see. It was a freedom that felt like a luxury, especially when he’d come so close to losing Shane. “Look at you. Take photo, please?” he called to the therapist, who took Ilya’s phone from the bed, snapping a few photos Ilya knew he would treasure forever and never delete.

“I can’t believe we’re getting excited about me standing up.”

“I got more excited when you opened those beautiful eyes,” Ilya said with a grin, and Shane answered with just a roll of his eyes, a more serious expression crossing his face.

“I’m scared, Ilya.”

“Yes, it is scary,” Ilya said, acknowledging Shane’s fear of everything he still had to overcome. The fact he was alive was a miracle in itself but he still had a long way to go before he was anywhere close to being fit and well again. Ilya knew, though, that both he and Shane would do anything they could to make that happen. “But you are brave, yes?”

“I don’t feel brave,” Shane mumbled, his arms shaking under the weight of holding himself up. Ilya gently shuffled him backwards and let him sit back on the bed. “Fuck, why am I exhausted?”

The therapist came over then, smiling proudly. “You’ve been in a coma for almost three weeks, you’ve been laying down, your lungs and heart haven’t been pushed like they usually would be. This is going to be a long road to recovery, Mr Hollander.” She turned back to her tablet, tapping in some notes.

Ilya took advantage of her distraction to step between Shane’s legs, looking slightly down at him. The bruises that had been scattered across Shane’s face were almost all healed down, and Ilya gently ran his fingers over the freckles on his skin.

“Beautiful.”

Shane was then shown the exercises he was expected to complete, at least with his good leg for now. Being an athlete, he was concerned about muscle atrophy, and he listened and watched diligently as she demonstrated the exercises, sometimes asking Ilya for his help so she could point out exactly how his joints and muscles were working.

“Can I ask a question?” Shane asked as the therapist started packing away, leaving a resistance band for Shane to use with his good leg and arms while he was bed bound.

“Of course you can,” she replied, smiling happily at him.

“I… I need to know. Will I ever be able to skate again?”

Ilya could see the fear in Shane’s face and he grabbed his hand, wrapping his fingers around Shane’s.

“I’ll be honest. It’s going to take a lot of time and patience to get your leg and ankle to a point where you can skate like you used to. If it were anyone else, I’d say no. But you’re a professional athlete. You’ve probably been skating almost as long as you’ve been walking. If you’re prepared to put in the effort, and if you have a good support system in place-”

Shane’s eyes flitted up to meet Ilya’s at that moment and the two shared a secret smile.

“Then I don’t see why not. You just need to take it slowly and allow your leg and ankle to heal properly, otherwise you’ll be setting yourself up to fail.”

“Whatever it takes,” Shane assured her, and Ilya believed every word. “Thank you so much.”

With that, she left them alone, and Shane let out a long exhale. He looked drained.

“Can you help me lay back?” he asked Ilya, and they carefully manoeuvred him around so he was back on the bed. He patted the mattress next to him and Ilya climbed up, settling back while Shane curled up against him. It seemed their comfort position, tangled up together, Ilya reassuring himself that Shane was alive and by his side, Shane beyond grateful that Ilya didn’t run away when things got tough.

“How are you feeling about seeing Pike later?” Ilya asked as he stroked his fingers through Shane’s hair. He knew that Shane had asked Yuna to arrange for Hayden to come to the hospital and visit him, and he had a feeling it was going to be a very emotional reunion between the best friends.

“It’ll be good. I think I need to see him to make my brain believe he’s okay too,” Shane said, his breath soft against Ilya’s neck. “I hate that I put all of you through this, having to see me like this.”

“You did not choose this,” Ilya reminded Shane gently. “And there was no place we would be but with you. You are very loved, Shane.” He leaned down, bringing their lips together softly. “Sleep. You are tired.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay,” Ilya confirmed easily, never wanting to be anywhere now except at Shane’s side. “Always.”

***

“Fucking hell, Rozanov, watch where you’re aiming that thing!” Shane spluttered, wiping the water out of his face, making Ilya laugh out loud, the booming noise echoing off the tiled walls of the large wetroom they were in. “Jesus Christ, I knew this would be a bad idea.”

“Oh, you would rather your mother do this?” Ilya asked, turning the shower head again towards Shane, spraying it at his lower belly, making Shane glare again. “Sorry, moya lyubov. I will behave.”

“Hayden is coming in like an hour. Can we please get on with this?”

Ilya nodded and went back over to where Shane was sitting on the shower chair the hospital had provided him. He’d desperately wanted to freshen up before Hayden and Jackie came to see him, and Ilya had persuaded the nurses that he could handle helping Shane in the shower. They’d watched as a nurse had shown them how to wrap Shane’s cast and tape it so it was entirely waterproof, and then he’d carefully carried Shane into the room, locking the door behind them. He’d taken off Shane’s clothes and boxers, then stripped to his own underwear before turning on the shower.

Ilya grabbed the bottle of shower gel and squirted some into Shane’s hands before he did the same to his own, walking around and behind Shane, beginning to wash his back.

“I did this to you, when you were asleep,” Ilya reminded him softly, gentle with Shane’s still tender muscles. “Nurses taught me to take care of your body while your mind healed. Was all I could do for you. I felt helpless.” He massaged Shane’s shoulders gently, the suds allowing his fingers to slip over Shane’s skin. “I would talk to you when I did it, tell you my plans for future, for us. I think I hoped you could hear.” He paused, noticing Shane’s shoulders shaking. “Oh Shane…”

He quickly rounded the chair and crouched down in front of Shane, gently tugging his hands away from his face.

“Sorry, just… when I hear stuff like that, I realise how heart-breaking this all was for you. You literally had to wait for me to either live or die. How the fuck were you strong enough to go through that?”

“I wasn’t,” Ilya shrugged, resting his arms on Shane’s good leg. “But I knew you needed me. Had to be strong for you, for Yuna and David. I would not listen when they said we had to be realistic. That you may not wake up at all.”

“Shit. They told you that?”

“They have to,” Ilya said matter-of-factly. Looking back on it all now, it felt like some sort of dream, like it had happened to someone else. He was sure they’d had this conversation before, but Shane’s short term memory wasn’t quite where it used to be yet. “Said you may not be my Shane if you did, maybe different. But I did not care.”

“And am I?”

“My Shane?” Ilya asked, and Shane nodded, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. “Of course. This changed everything for me. Realised I could not live without you. I need my boyfriend by my side.”

With those words, Shane looked up, a beautiful grin spreading across his face. “Boyfriend?”

“I think so, yes,” Ilya grinned back before leaning in and kissing him roughly, a little harder than before. “If you agree, of course.”

“Fuck yes,” Shane laughed, grabbing Ilya’s hair and pulling him into a rough kiss. “I love you so fucking much, Ilya.”

The rest of the shower was a little slower, interrupted by little kisses from Ilya all over Shane’s body, especially where he now had scars that would forever immortalise what he’d been through. Ilya was just as drenched as Shane by the end, and he dried Shane off first, pulling fresh boxers onto him and taking him back to his bed before he dressed himself, heading back into the hospital room in his sliders and jogging bottoms slung low on his hips.

“Uh, Ilya,” Shane started and Ilya froze as he looked up from where he was rubbing his hair with a towel to see Yuna and David all but smirking at him. “Mom and Dad are here.”

“Yes, I see,” Ilya said. “I am sorry. Shane wanted shower…” he shrugged and reached for a shirt, pulling it over his head.

“We thought we’d be here for when Hayden came to visit. Maybe we should’ve text first.”

“Yes, please text,” Ilya said, taking the wet towels and leaving them in the basket the hospital had left just outside the bathroom. “When will he arrive?”

Yuna informed them he was expected soon, and the four chatted easily about Shane’s physical therapy, Ilya glowing proudly when he recounted how Shane had stood up for the first time that day. “I have photo, look,” he grinned, letting David and Yuna look at the photo on this phone that the therapist had snapped. Ilya had noticed their wide smiles first of all, both looking at the camera. But then he’d seen how Shane’s knuckles were almost white with how tightly he was clinging onto Ilya, and he just hoped he’d be able to be there to support Shane in his recovery like this as much as he could.

They all fell quiet when there was a gentle knock at the door, and David walked over, opening it. He greeted Hayden and Jackie, and Ilya stood back, wanting to give Shane space to reunite with his best friend.

He was watching Shane’s face closely as the two men finally laid eyes on each other after three long weeks, and it was just seconds before they both dissolved into tears, Shane’s arms opening as Hayden barrelled towards him, shoulder be damned as their bodies slammed together in a ferocious hug.

Jackie walked around the room, hugging Yuna and David before she got to Ilya, hugging him just a little bit more tightly. She was definitely Ilya’s favourite Pike. Except… maybe it was the little one he’d cuddled before, the one who had looked so deeply into Ilya’s eyes. He liked that baby.

“How are you doing?” she asked as Shane and Hayden hugged, speaking so lowly that no one else could them.

“I am much better,” Ilya replied honestly as they both turned to face their partners. “Pike looks a lot better now.”

“He is. Still struggling with his shoulder but it’ll heal. Look at them. I don’t think I realised how much Hayden needed this. He’s lived with so much guilt since the accident.”

Chairs were pulled around the bed, and Ilya and Hayden were sitting either side of Shane as they all talked, Hayden recounting how he’d been recovering since the accident. Shane had asked a lot of questions, and Hayden and Jackie had been open and honest with him, filling in as many gaps as they could for Shane, who had slowly been coming to terms with the fact he might never fully remember the events of that night. Ilya felt it was probably for the best.

“The kids made you a video,” Jackie said after a while, unlocking her phone and pulling up a video. The screen was filled with three faces, two smiling twin girls and a perplexed looking Arthur, all of them waving at the screen.

“Uncle Shane, we miss you!” they yelled. One was wearing a purple Princess tiara, while the other had what looked like some sort of police officer hat on her head. “We hope you can come play barbies soon, we can do your hair! Love you Uncle Shane, bye!”

All the adults smiled at the cuteness of the video, and Shane insisted on watching it again, almost tearing up at the sweetness, confessing he missed them so much.

“We didn’t let them visit you here,” Hayden admitted quietly when Jackie, Yuna and David left to get some coffee for everyone. “They’re too young, it would’ve scared them. But they talked about you all the time. We just said you were sleeping, that you had a sore head.”

“I get that,” Shane said, nodding slowly. “But Hayd… how are you really? Don’t lie to me, man. Tell me how everything has been.”

“Hard,” Hayden said, and Ilya went to stand up, to give them privacy but Shane grabbed his hand. “You can stay, Rozanov. I don’t mind. It’s been a lot. I’ve struggled to sleep, I have nightmares and the doctors say it’s probably PTSD. They want me to see someone, to talk about it, but I’m not sure I’m ready yet. Maybe when it isn’t all so raw.”

“They said the same to me, about talking to someone. I told them I was talking to Ilya, but they said I needed a professional, someone who specialises in trauma. I’ll do it, though, probably when I get out of here.”

“I’m glad you’re talking to him,” Hayden said, meeting Ilya’s eyes briefly. “Rozanov’s been good to you, Hollzy. He’s been here the whole time, fighting for you. I never thought I’d realise that he’s a good guy, but I guess you’re a good judge of character after all.”

Ilya stood then, turning to the window. It felt a lot to hear Hayden talk about him like that, and he didn’t want to get too emotional in front of the other man. He had no problem crying in front of Shane or his parents, but Hayden was still a rival in hockey, and he didn’t want to show too much weakness.

“You… you don’t feel differently about me now?” Shane asked.

“Why would I?” Hayden replied, and Ilya’s shoulders relaxed at that, loving that reaction.

“Well, because you found out about me and Ilya. That I’m gay. That we’re in a relationship.”

“Maybe I would have found it hard to understand before,” Hayden admitted. “But then I saw him and how this affected him. He looked how I imagined Jackie would have looked when she heard about the accident. He looked like he thought he was going to lose the love of his life. So no, I don’t feel differently about you. The only person I feel differently about is Ilya.”

Ilya realised the use of his name was a big deal, and he turned slowly, seeing both Shane and Hayden looking at him.

“He might be an asshole on the ice, but off it, he’s the guy who loves my best friend, and stuck by him when I couldn’t. I respect anyone proud enough to love loudly like that.”

“Fuck-” Shane blurted, his hands flying up to cover his face. “This is so fucking weird, But do you know how much it means to me to hear you say those things? Why am I such an emotional wreck? Jesus.”

“It’s okay, I think we all feel this,” Ilya said, taking Shane's hand and kissing it, unafraid to show affection in front of Hayden. “Is happiness to be alive, yes?”

Shane sniffed, wiping tears away as he nodded, pulling Ilya closer. He went easily, of course, resting his head on Shane’s shoulder. He smiled as Shane pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“I’m gonna let this go since you almost died, but, when you’re better, and I mean this is in the best way…” Hayden pointed at the pair of them- “absolutely the fuck not.”

Laughter exploded in the room, and because it had been too long since he’d rage-baited Hayden, Ilya grabbed Shane’s face and pulled him into a big kiss, just because he could. And no, he was never going to stop, no matter how much Pike protested. Although judging by the fond look Ilya saw on Pike’s face, maybe he didn’t mind as much as he made out he did. Good people, Ilya reminded himself with a smile.

Chapter 10

Chapter Summary

Ilya and Shane get honest.

Shane gets some news...

Chapter Notes

Still a bit speechless, but I hope you enjoy this.

I'm getting sad we're near the end. Just 2 chapters and an epilogue to go.

I'm not sure I am ready to let them go :(

Enjoy!

Cx

“Everything is progressing in the right direction,” the doctor said to Shane, Ilya, Yuna and David, filling each of them with relief. It had been a week since Shane had started physical therapy, and life was starting to feel somewhat normal again. Yuna and David had gone back to work, and Ilya had flown back to Boston overnight to meet up with his team, to tell them he was going to start attending practises on an ad-hoc basis. They’d been supportive and kind, but a few glances thrown Ilya’s way told him they might have an inkling about him and Shane. Still, that was a conversation he needed to have with his boyfriend before a locker room full of hockey players.

It felt so good to be back on the ice again. As much as Ilya had loved being at Shane’s bedside and looking after him, he had missed his teammates and the feeling of freedom that being on the ice gave him. He enjoyed every second of his practice with them, and was pleased to see that almost a month away hadn’t affected his game at all. If anything, he felt revived and his focus was razor sharp, feeling like he was playing not just for himself any more, but for Shane as well.

Pictures of him returning to Boston and to the Raiders had been splashed about across the press, and Ilya had thrown his usual look of disdain at them. He knew there had been talk of where he’d been and why he hadn’t been playing, but his team had been quick to shut down any rumours, repeatedly saying Ilya was tending to a family emergency, and Marlowe had even posted a few tweets about Ilya hinting that he was in Russia. It had been a team effort, and Ilya appreciated how far everyone was going to look out for him.

He knew that Shane missed hockey terribly, and had almost been punishing his body in his therapy sessions, to the point where he’d been in pain the following morning. Ilya had accompanied him to his next session, and made sure that Shane took it easy on himself. Now he was exercising more, Shane’s appetite had grown, and Yuna had taken to bringing her boys home cooked meals every night, feeding them up.

“We’re going to move you to another ward later today,” the doctor said, and Ilya saw how Shane’s face lit up at the news. “Everything is stable, and you no longer need such close observation. Hopefully, if you continue to make good progress, we can look at getting you home in a week or so.”

“Yes please,” Shane had said quickly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I would love to go home.”

Aside from bad headaches and the recurring nightmares, Shane seemed to have amazingly few lasting effects from the accident. His cuts and bruises had healed well, and Ilya felt his broken leg seemed to be on the way to recovery as well, although they had a few weeks yet before they could begin to think about getting the cast off and to have more scans taken to ensure the pins were in place and fusing the bone together well.

“We’ve been thinking,” Yuna started later that evening as they tucked into the takeaway Ilya had got them to celebrate the good news. “Your Dad and I think we should take you home with us to Ottawa. You can’t be alone in Montreal right now, and it makes sense for you to come home to recuperate.”

As much as Ilya was pleased for Shane to be going home, and yes, he agreed it would be safer for Shane to go to his parents, he was dreading having to go back to how they lived before. He didn’t want to return to only seeing Shane every few months, to have snatched moments in hotel rooms that only just scratched the itch of missing him. He wanted long weekends together, nights curled up in front of the fire, lazy mornings under the covers.

“I know that makes sense,” Shane agreed, stealing something from Ilya’s bowl, not that he minded at all. “It’s going to suck being out this season. I don’t think I’ve ever missed a game, and now I’m missing pretty much this whole year.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to hold it against you,” David chimed in, and Ilya nodded in agreement. “I doubt Hayden will make it back this year, either. His shoulder is going to need a lot of work to be in a place to play hockey, you know how physical some of these guys are. Sorry, Ilya, no offence.”

“None taken,” Ilya said, holding up his hands, knowing it was entirely true. He did get a sick sense of pleasure from smashing the players he hated into the boards, all in the name of sport, of course. “And I agree. I would like Shane to be with you, safe. Looked after.”

“You’ll come and visit?” Shane asked, uncertainty flashing across his face. “I don’t want to have to wait months to see you.”

“I’ll fly up as much as I can,” Ilya promised, meaning every word. “When I am not playing, I will be with you. Um, if I am welcome.”

“You are always welcome, Ilya,” Yuna said, and Shane winked at him. “Although I think we’ll have to reinstate that open door policy.”

“Mom, that was for when I had girls in my room, back in high school,” Shane said with a roll of his eyes.

“That was when I thought you wanted girlfriends,” Yuna laughed, “now I know it’s boyfriends, the same rule applies for Ilya.”

Shane shook his head, but Ilya could see the fond on his face.. “So embarrassing.”

“Oh, I meant to say, we had an email back from the driver of your car,” Yuna said with a smile. It had taken her a while thanks to privacy laws, but as usual, Yuna had been able to work her magic and she’d eventually been able to track down the driver of the Uber who had been in the accident with Shane and Hayden. He had broken both of his arms and an ankle, but thankfully had made a good recovery. Shane and Hayden had sent him a letter wishing him well, and promised to get him season tickets to Metros games. “He seems really excited about the tickets, and wished you both well.”

“When I look at pictures of the wreck, I can’t believe we’re all here and alive,” Shane said contemplatively. Ilya hated that Shane spoke of being alive as a shock, because it just took Ilya back to sitting beside Shane’s bedside, just praying for him to wake up. “I don’t understand why we were so lucky.”

“Because you deserve to be,” David replied, and Ilya agreed with a nod of his head. “You and Hayden are good people, and I think the driver must have been too. And I like to think that sometimes, the goodness inside a person can win through, against the odds.”

“I won’t waste it,” Shane vowed, looking around at all three people gathered around him. “I promise I won’t waste this chance. I’ll be a good person-”

“You already best person,” Ilya said gently, and Shane gave him the softest smile, full of complete love.

“But I can be better. I’ll make sure the team gets more involved with charity work, make sure that we do things that matter. I’ll play harder, better, I’ll help the Metros win Cups. I’ll be a better son, come and visit more, I know I don’t do that enough-”

“You’re busy, we understand,” Yuna said, but Shane was on a roll.

“I’ll be a better friend to Hayden, see his kids more. I’ll- I’ll be a better boyfriend. I want to spend more time with you, Ilya. We wasted so much time before, not saying how we feel, going months without seeing each other. I can’t do that again, not now that we've spent so much time together. I know it can’t be like this right now, but I also can’t go back to how it was before.”

“It won’t,” Ilya said, pulling Shane close and kissing him gently, keeping it chaste with his parents in the room. “I will not let it.”

“You two deserve so much happiness,” Yuna replied, leaning her head on David’s shoulder. “I’m just so glad you have each other now. That you can love openly, at least in front of us. And I’m glad that we know about your relationship, because having Ilya become part of our family has been the best thing about this awful situation.”

Ilya knew Shane had questions about that, and wasn’t surprised that he began to ask them, his voice initially tentative. Ilya wished he was as brave as Shane.

“You weren’t shocked? About me, I mean?”

“That you like men? No, sweetie, I don’t think we were. We know you pretty well, Shane. I think we were more surprised that out of all the men in Montreal, you chose Ilya. But now we’ve gotten to know him, we get it. Seeing him be so completely loyal to you is all a parent can ever ask for their child.”

Shane squeezed Ilya’s hand at that, the two sharing a small smile but Yuna wasn’t done.

“And we don’t know if you’ve talked about coming out, or sharing your relationship with the world, but we wanted you to know that we’re both here for you if you do. However we can support you, we’ll do that. And Ilya, that goes for you as well. If you need us, you call us. You have our numbers, we don’t want you to be afraid to use them, okay?”

“Da. Thank you,” Ilya replied, feeling emotional. This was something he’d never had from parents before. Unconditional love, promises to be there to support him through anything. Shane hadn’t just given him love, he’d given him a family too. In every way that mattered, Ilya was home now.

*****

“Okay, we’re ready when you are,” Yuna said from behind where Ilya was pointing her phone camera at Shane’s face. He was wearing the Montreal Metros sweatshirt that Ilya had worn throughout his time by Shane’s bedside in hospital. “You know what you want to say?”

“I think so,” Shane said, fiddling with his hair. “Let’s just try it and then we can see if it’s alright before we post it. Okay. Count me in, Ilya.”

“Three, two, one, go,” Ilya said, pressing the record button, falling quiet. He smiled as Shane waved at the camera.

“Hi everyone, Shane Hollander here. I thought it was about time I send you a little update, and to thank you so much for all the kindness and well-wishes that have been sent my way since my accident. This has been the hardest time of my life, for myself and for my family, and while I’ve got a long road ahead of me, I’m here now and that’s what matters. The support we have had from Metros fans, and from other fans in our hockey world, has been overwhelming. Your kindness means everything to me, and I won’t forget it. It may be a while before I can get back on the ice to play with the best team in the MHL again, but I promise that I will be back. I hope you will be patient with me, and respect that I need time and space to get myself back to full strength.”

“I would also like to just thank the amazing medical team at Montreal General Hospital, who have taken the best care of me. Not only did they look after me, but they looked after my parents, and my partner too. As you can imagine, this has been hard for them, but they have stayed by me through everything, and I love them all so much for that.”

Ilya’s bottom lip trembled, but he kept his hands steady. Yuna offered comfort with a hand on his back.

“I hope to be back with Metros as soon as I possibly can, but in the meantime, keep supporting the team, like I will be from home. Thanks again for everything, and see you soon.” Shane gave another awkward little wave and Ilya stopped the recording, letting out a breath. “Was that awful?”

“It was perfect,” Ilya said, handing Yuna back her phone before he pulled Shane into a tight hug, kissing the top of his head. “But I will let momager decide.”

Shane laughed. “Where did you learn that word, Ilya?”

“Where do you think?” he said back, waggling his eyebrows at Yuna.

“Cheeky,” Yuna grinned, already watching the video back. “But I agree with Ilya. It was emotional and from the heart. Not too rehearsed. I’m happy to post it if you are.”

“Do it,” Shane commented, and Yuna just posted it to Shane’s social channels when they looked up, someone walking into the room. It was a nurse, coming to take Shane’s obs. “I can’t wait until all this checking has to stop. No offence,” he said, smiling quickly at the nurse doing her job.

“None taken,” she replied as she began to take Shane’s blood pressure. She worked quickly and left them alone again, pulling the door closed behind her.

Ilya reached for the bag of cards and letters Yuna had brought in and pulled it onto the bed. “So, you want to make start on these?”

“Yeah, I do,” Shane grinned, letting Ilya reach into the bag before handing him a letter, addressed to Captain Shane Hollander, the address scribbled reading the home of the Metros. It was one of probably thousands that had been sent, but Shane had already vowed to read and keep each and every one.

They’d made a small dent in the pile when a doctor came into the room. Shane set down the letter he was reading, and both Ilya and Yuna looked to each other, then to the doctor. They hadn’t expected to see anyone today, and suddenly Ilya felt worried that something was wrong. He pushed his fears down, knowing Shane was fit and well and on the road to recovery, but he knew he was always going to worry from now on.

“Hi again, Shane,” greeted the doctor, coming to stand at Shane’s side. “Are you happy for me to speak with your family present?”

Shane nodded, reaching for both Yuna and Ilya, who came closer.

“I thought as much. How are you feeling, Shane?”

“Good. I feel good. I mean, I still get headaches, and the nightmares keep me awake sometimes, but physically I feel okay. My leg is the only thing holding me back now. But I know I have to be patient with it.”

“Yes, you do,” the doctor confirmed. “But I have to agree, everything else looks great so far. Considering the situation we were in, it’s astounding that you have come through this as well as you have. And with that being said…”

There was a long pause, then finally-

“How would you feel about going home?”

****

Later that evening, the Hollanders and Ilya were sitting with Shane, lights dim, the TV in the corner of the room on mute. The news that Shane was going to be allowed to go home in the next few days, ahead of the schedule they’d been planning for, had filled each of them with such joy, and they’d set about making everything happen.

“I reached out to the Metros management,” Yuna said, pulling a cardigan around her shoulders. “I asked them about using the team plane to get you to Ottawa. Of course, they agreed, and said it’ll be ready whenever we call to say we’re ready.”

“That’s good of them,” Shane grinned. He seemed to have a new lease of life since he’d been told he could leave the hospital, and Ilya loved this version of his Shane. “I can’t wait to get out of here. I mean, everyone has been amazing, but I’m done with being woken up during the night for observations, and with sleeping on this shitty mattress.”

“Ilya, we wondered if you’d like to fly out with us, help get Shane settled in?” David asked then, and it felt so good to be included in this. But he and Shane had talked about this earlier, when the Hollanders had left for a while to get some food, and he hoped Shane would bring up their decision with his parents.

“I would love to,” Ilya replied, looking at Shane. “Thank you for asking me.”

“I wish you’d stop thanking us,” Yuna said, but there was no malice in her tone. “The sooner you realise you’re part of this family, the better.”

“Actually, Mom, Ilya and I had a talk earlier,” Shane began, fingers fiddling with the blanket over his lap. “Obviously, I need to come home and stay with you. And I want to. But… Ilya and I are going to go back to my cottage first, for a few days. We need some time alone, before he has to go back to Boston. We’ve never really had that, not properly. I think it’s time we did.”

“I will look after him,” Ilya promised, meaning every word. “And will call if any problems.”

“You’re both adults, Shane, you can make your own decisions,” David said. “As long as you just let us know that everything is okay so we don’t worry. And don’t hesitate to call us if you need help. Don’t be too proud. We just want to help.”

“We know, and we’ll call,” Shane said, looking at Ilya with excitement. “And thank you, for being the best parents. For understanding that we need this.”

An hour later, Shane and Ilya were alone again, both tangled up in Shane’s bed. The nurses had long given up on forcing Ilya to sleep on the cot on the other side of the room, and managed their observations around Ilya. Shane was wearing one of Ilya’s t-shirts, but Ilya was warm and was just in his boxers, the blanket covering them up.

“I can’t wait to show you my cottage,” Shane said softly, his voice low and full of sleep. His head was resting on Ilya’s bicep, and Ilya’s fingers were playing with the soft strands of Shane’s hair. “I thought a few times about what it would be like to ask you to come and visit. But I wasn’t sure we were in that place.”

“Hmm. Do you think we are in that place now?”

“Asshole,” Shane laughed, tickling Ilya’s side. “I think we’re well and truly past that place after this. I know that maybe my accident forced us to move quicker in our relationship than we might have done otherwise-”

“Is only good thing to come from it,” Ilya butted in. “Your parents, too. But yes. I could say I love you and not be scared of feelings.”

“I wish I’d heard you say it to me for the first time,” Shane admitted. His body was warm up against Ilya’s, and Ilya stayed quiet, giving Shane space to speak. “Maybe it sounds stupid, but it feels like I lost that. I had this whole thing in my head about the first time we might say it to each other.”

“You wanted to?”

“I did. I just… I guess I was scared that you weren’t in that place too. That I’d scare you off.”

“Fuck,” Ilya laughed, wiping away the tears gathering at his eyeline. “We were so stupid, Hollander. Wasted so much time.”

“Hey, no,” Shane said, gently turning on his hand, cupping Ilya’s face. “Not a single moment we spent together was a waste of time. Not a single moment of looking forward to seeing you was a waste of time. The important thing is we know what we mean to each other now, and we’re going to make sure we make the most of it.”

“And what do I mean to you?” Ilya asked, needing to hear Shane say it after weeks of silence, weeks of doubting himself, weeks of convincing himself that he had fallen totally in love with someone that just might not love him back as fiercely as he loved Shane.

“Everything,” Shane said, smiling, his eyes sparkling back at Ilya. “Fuck, you are just… what I always hoped I’d find. Someone who loves me just as I am. Someone funny, kind… gorgeous. Someone I can’t imagine doing life without. I will always want you by my side, Ilya.”

Shane’s words were almost overwhelming, and Ilya leaned in, kissing him as the tears fell freely down his cheeks.

“You’ll stay?” Shane asked as they pulled apart, foreheads pressed together.

“Is not even question. I thought I would lose you. Never again. Cannot go through this pain again.”

“I’ll spend my life trying to make sure you never do,” Shane vowed, kissing Ilya gently again. “Let’s try and sleep, okay? Big day tomorrow.”

“Cannot wait,” Ilya smiled. “Need to have you all to myself for a few days.”

“Oh yeah?” Shane replied with a smirk, but Ilya just shook his head. “More for me to look forward to then.”

Ilya reached over Shane’s head, pressing the light switch, sending the room into darkness.

“Ya tebya lyublu,” he whispered, words for only Shane to hear. “Всегда.”

Always.

*****

“Are you ready to go?” David asked, standing behind Shane’s wheelchair. He was finally packed, and had spent the morning saying goodbye to the medical staff that had been looking after him for the past month. As much as they appreciated everything the team had done for Shane, the entire Hollander family, including Ilya, were so excited to be getting out of there.

“I’ve checked, there’s no press outside,” Yuna said, walking alongside her son as they headed towards the exit. “But there have been fans here everyday. So we might see some of them.”

“I think I will follow after,” Ilya said, holding up a hand when Shane began to protest, just as he expected. “Malysh, I know, but there will be time for being seen together. That is not now. This is about you, leaving this place. I will join at airport.”

Shane sighed, and Ilya felt relieved that he knew Shane wasn’t going to argue anymore. “Fine. I hate it when I know you’re right. You’re flying with us though, okay? Don’t even argue. My mom will make the crew sign NDAs if that will make you more comfortable.”

“I already did,” Yuna chimed in, winking at Ilya. “I wasn’t going to have anything mess this day up for my boys.”

“You are super woman, Yuna,” Ilya grinned, giving her a quick hug. “Now go, before I change my mind. I will see you there.”

They couldn’t kiss, being in a public corridor, so Ilya settled for a little wave of his fingers, grinning when Shane winked back. David nodded at him before he turned around, starting to push Shane’s wheelchair towards the exit, towards freedom.

Yes, Shane was leaving him. He was literally watching him leave. But for the first time, maybe ever, Ilya didn’t feel alone or abandoned. He had a certainty now about the love Shane had for him, and a certainty about his place in the Hollander family. Yes, everything has changed, but in the best way. Ilya finally had everything he ever wanted.

Chapter 11

Chapter Summary

They're going to the cottage.

Shane opens up.

Chapter Notes

Sorry it's late. My head hasn't been kind to me today.

I hope you like this one... if my anxiety about it could go away, I'd be grateful.

Just two to go...

These two, in this story, will forever be my favourites. ❤️

“Holy shit, Hollander,” Ilya said from where he was sitting in the back seat of Hollanders’ car, next to Shane. In his mind, a cottage was a small building, kind of old looking and cosy, maybe like something you’d see in a Disney movie. But this? This was a glass mansion. There was no other word for it. “You call this cottage?”

“I think the Russian version of a cottage might be different to our Canadian interpretation,” David mused from the front seat. “You didn’t tell him anything about the cottage, Shane?”

“It never came up,” Shane admitted, adjusting himself uncomfortably in his seat. He was sitting at an awkward angle to accommodate the plaster cast still wrapped around his leg, and Ilya wished there was something he could do to make it more comfortable for him. He settled for resting a hand on Shane’s good leg, stroking his fingers back and forth over Shane’s skin. “We never really spoke much about life outside of hockey.”

“We have time to change that now,” Ilya said, reaching out and taking Shane’s hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently. “This place is… wow.”

David turned off the engine and Yuna hopped out first, immediately going round to the rear of the car to fetch out the bags they’d packed for the trip. David and Ilya worked together to help Shane out, and Shane just glared when he saw the wheelchair waiting for him.

“Really?”

“What, you can walk?” Ilya replied snarkily, looking down to Shane’s leg and then back again. “Cannot use crutches on hill, Hollander.”

“Or you carry me,” Shane suggested, and Ilya didn’t bother to argue. He reached down, scooping Shane up under his arms and legs, holding him against his body, ignoring the soft look David was sending them both. He carefully walked up the driveway while Yuna dashed ahead, quickly unlocking the front door. Ilya negotiated the few small steps to the door slowly then walked through, focusing on setting Shane down on the sofa before he bothered to look around. “God, this thing is a fucking nightmare,” Shane muttered, wincing in pain.

“Yes, but is necessary,” Ilya said, finally standing up and taking the chance to look around. “Your real estate fetish really paid off, huh?”

“I had this built,” Shane said as David and Yuna carried on bringing in their bags, taking through to rooms that Ilya hadn’t explored yet. “I wish I could give you a tour. I’m sure Mom will.”

“Shane, I assume you’re both sleeping downstairs rather than in your room?” came Yuna’s voice from somewhere else in the house. Shane yelled back that he was, and then finally, the family all sat down together, on the sofa area surrounded by beautiful floor to ceiling windows. The view was gorgeous, and Ilya couldn’t wait to be alone with Shane, to experience this together. It was the sort thing he’d always been hopeful of sharing with Shane, but it felt like a lot that it was really happening. He felt beyond lucky.

“So you’re going to be able to keep up your physical therapy here?” David asked later that afternoon as Yuna cooked dinner in the kitchen. Ilya had offered to help, but Yuna had insisted she had it under control, that he rest and enjoy time with Shane. It smelled delicious, though, and Ilya couldn’t wait for his first proper sit-down family meal with the Hollanders.

“Yeah, but we’re only here for three days, Dad. Ilya has to fly to Boston after that, and I’m coming back to you guys. They talked us through everything, and we have online appointments next week too, so please don’t worry. I’ll keep up with it. You know how desperate I am to walk and skate again. I won’t risk ruining my chances with that.”

“I will help,” Ilya chimed in, ridiculously excited at the prospect of helping Shane work out, especially if they did so outside with this beautiful view. “I promise I will take care of him.”

They ate dinner around the table Shane had outside on a patio area out the back of the house, overlooking a beautiful lake. Ilya had carried him outside, and everyone had brought everything to the table. Yuna had cooked a large pot of pasta, and Ilya was enjoying every mouthful. Conversation flowed easily as they all ate, and it made Ilya ridiculously happy to watch Shane eating, his appetite probably smaller than it had been before but still, every step in the right direction felt like a win.

“I’ve arranged for Coach Theriault to come and visit again when you’re home with us,” Yuna said as Ilya added more cheese to his pasta. He could never have enough cheese. “He knows you’re out for the rest of the season, but I think he wants to maybe discuss you showing up at a home game. I’ll make sure he knows you won’t be travelling until your leg is better.”

“I think I’d like to do that,” Shane agreed, nibbling on a slice of bread. “I miss it a lot. Hockey’s always been my life, and to know I’m out for the rest of the season is hard. It might be nice to go and see a game, catch up with the team. I miss the guys.”

“The MHL also wanted to arrange an interview with you,” Yuna continued. “I think it’ll be good to keep you out there, so the fans don’t forget you, that they know you’re intending to definitely return to the Metros. I think they wanted some kind of video interview for social media, but some of the hockey magazines have approached me about print interviews too.”

“Yeah, okay but Mom, can we discuss all this when I come and stay with you? We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that stuff then.”

“I know, I just… I wanted to tell you in case you and Ilya wanted to talk, maybe about what you might say.” Silence hung heavily then, and Ilya kept chewing on his food, his eyes flitting up to Shane then back to his plate. “Anyway. There’s plenty of time for that. When is your next game, Ilya?”

“Next week,” Ilya replied. “Against Guardians. Feel a bit out of practice.”

“You’ll be fine once you get back on the ice,” David said reassuringly. “You’re too good for a few weeks away to throw off your game.”

“Definitely too good, annoyingly so,” Shane said, kicking Ilya with the foot next to his. “I’ll be watching so you better score a goal for me.”

“Maybe two, moy lyubov,” Ilya said with a smile and a wink.

David and Ilya cleared the table, leaving Yuna and Shane to talk. Ilya knew that Yuna was nervous about leaving the two of them alone, but she was putting a brave face on it. David was clearly comfortable in Shane’s home, opening cupboards to put things away with the ease of someone who was used to this environment. Ilya hoped that one day, he’d feel the same here.

“Damn, I left the bread basket on the table, would you mind grabbing it?” David asked, and Ilya nodded, pleased to be feeling useful. He headed outside, about to round the corner and join Shane and Yuna when he heard his name in a soft conversation. He paused, not wanting to intrude, but then Shane’s words melted his heart.

“I’m not going to push Ilya. This is really serious for me, Mom. I love him so much and I want to be with him. I feel like this is it for me. There’s no one else for me. I know it’s soon to be saying that, but the accident has just shown me that life is too short to waste time, especially when it comes to the people I love.”

“You need to talk to him, Shane. You know how Russia feels about same sex relationships. It’ll be a big deal for him, if you come out. It’ll change his whole life.”

“You think I don’t know that? It’s all I’ve thought about since we started whatever this was back then. I would never push him into anything he’s not comfortable with.”

Ilya wished Shane knew that he’d decided a long time ago that he’d happily leave his homeland behind if he meant he’d have a future with Shane. His parents were gone, his brother wasn’t somebody he wanted to waste anymore time on, and as sad as Ilya would be not to see his mother’s grave again, he knew he carried her with him wherever he went. She’d never truly leave him, not completely. The thought made him smile wistfully.

“I know that,” Yuna said softly. “I just… I worry about him. I have a feeling he’s pretty alone. He never called any family while he was in hospital with you. He’d never have left the hospital if your dad and I didn’t make him. So I feel like I need to look out for the both of you now.”

“I love that you and Dad care about him so much,” Shane said. “I wish I could’ve told you myself, about me, about us, but somehow it’s all worked out okay. And I feel so lucky.” With that, Ilya came around the corner, meeting Shane’s eye, trying to act like he hadn’t heard that particular conversation. “Heyyyy.”

“Hi. Just getting bread basket for David," Ilya said, leaning over and picking it up. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Shane grinned, grabbing Ilya’s hand as he tried to walk past. “Kiss, please.”

And Ilya did.

“You have all his medications?” Yuna asked later that evening for the third time, and Ilya nodded, pointing to where they were lined up on the counter in the kitchen. He’d made Yuna spend time earlier while he’d written everything in down in English and in Russian to ensure knew what he was doing without them by his side to confirm everything. It was Yuna who’d calmed him down, saying she trusted Ilya with her son more than anyone else in the world. It had been the sort of acceptance he’d always yearned for. “Okay, good. Please call me if anything happens, anything at all. Don’t try to deal with it on your own. We’re only a twenty minute drive away.”

“Yeah, but don’t feel you need to come unless we call you,” Shane retorted, and Yuna just rolled her eyes, lifting her bag onto her shoulder. Shane had been trying to get his parents to leave for the past hour, but it hadn’t gone to plan. Eventually, he’d told them he was tired and David had taken the hint, pulling Yuna out of her seat and towards the door. “We’ll be fine, Mom. We’re two fully grown adults, we can look after ourselves.”

“I know. I just worry, it’s a Mom thing,” Yuna said as she walked back to Shane, giving her son a hug. “I’ll see you on Friday, okay?” She then went over to Ilya, pulling him into a hug as well.

“See you Friday,” Ilya agreed. They’d planned that the Hollanders would come and collect Shane while Ilya was still there, and he’d take a cab to the airport, finally returning to Boston and the Raiders before coming back to Canada the following week for their match. “Thank you for pasta.”

They said their final goodbyes, and it was Ilya who got up and locked the door after them. The cottage felt eerily quiet now, and Ilya walked through the hallway, stopping and leaning against the wall as he just stared at Shane lounging on the sofa.

“Come to me,” Shane said, his voice deep, and Ilya slowly walked up to him. “We’re finally alone.”

“About time.”

“It’s probably going to be boring here for you. Not much to do, really.”

“You are always boring.”

“Charming,” Shane said, but he was smiling.

“I think I am going to love being boring with you, Hollander,” he replied with a smile, carefully laying on top of Shane’s body on the sofa, avoiding any weight on Shane’s leg. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to shower with you. Then I want to cuddle you in bed, and fall asleep in your arms.” Shane blushed at the admission, but Ilya tucked two fingers under his chin, forcing Shane to look at him. “Was that too much?”

“Never too much,” Ilya said before he leaned down, connecting their lips. Most of the kisses they’d shared had been chaste, always in fear of being walked in on by hospital staff or by Shane’s parents, but now, they were truly alone. There was no risk of anyone walking in, and Ilya was going to take full advantage. He moaned as Shane’s tongue brushed over his, and he felt Shane’s hands tangle in his curls, tugging gently.

“Take me to bed, Rozanov.”

Ilya carried him carefully, setting him on the bed while he started the shower. Shane wrapped his own leg in a waterproof sleeve the hospital had given him, taping it at the top and bottom, murmuring about how unsexy this way. Ilya just ignored that.

“You want to try the crutches?”

Shane looked at him, then at the crutches Ilya was holding out then nodded. Ilya made sure they were the right height before he helped Shane to his feet, hovering nearby. Shane still had enough upper body strength to use them, and Ilya followed him into the bathroom. Shane pulled a face at the plastic chair that David had left there, another gift from the hospital but still sat down on it, handing over his crutches for Ilya to put across the room, out of the wet zone.

They wriggled themselves out of their clothes, and Ilya came to stand in front of Shane, unable to resist pulling him to his feet, easily supporting Shane’s weight.

“Waited so long for this,” he murmured against Shane’s lips, naked bodies pressed together from head to toe. “I love you, Shane.”

Shane answered with a deep kiss, his arms looped around Ilya’s neck. The water pounded down on Ilya’s back but he soon lost himself in the sensation of having Shane in his arms, kissing him. It felt amazing to be alone together like this, and it wasn’t long before his body was responding to their proximity. He moaned as he nudged his hips forward, knocking his arousal against Shane’s stomach but Shane pulled back slightly, just kissing Ilya’s neck, avoiding looking at him.

“Sorry. Are you okay?” Ilya said, concerned that Shane had almost shrunk away from him. Shane looked to the floor, and now Ilya was worried. “Shane, talk to me.”

“I… I can’t… just… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ilya. It’s not you, it’s me-”

“Can’t what? Shane, I- oh.” Ilya looked down between them, to where he was obviously aroused but Shane wasn’t. “Oh, moy lyubimyy, it is okay. The doctors said this may happen.”

“I can’t even function as a fucking man now,” Shane said, scoffing and turning his face away from Ilya.

“It’s not you, Shane. It is medicine. You have been through trauma. Your body is healing.”

“I’m sorry,” Shane whispered again, and that broke Ilya’s heart. Shane had nothing to apologise for, never in Ilya’s eyes.

“Hey,” he said, crowding against Shane, one hand at his lower back, the other on his cheek. “Look at me, sweetheart. Do not apologise. Please. All I care is you are here with me.”

“But you want sex,” Shane started, but Ilya shook his head quickly.

“No. I want you. Shane, when I thought I would lose you, I did not think oh dear I will not have sex with Shane again. No.” Shane gave a small smile at that, and Ilya carried on, needing Shane to understand. “I just thought how lost I would be without you. How my days would have no sunshine. That I would never feel happy again. You waking up was best moment of my life.”

“Better than winning the cup?” Shane asked, finally looking at Ilya.

“Oh, definitely,” Ilya agreed with a grin, stroking the pad of his thumb along Shane’s cheekbone. “I love you for you, Shane. For your mind. Your pretty freckles. For how boring you are.”

“Asshole,” Shane laughed, shoving at Ilya’s shoulder. “You love that I’m boring.”

“I really do,” Ilya said. “Let me wash your hair, yes?”

Shane nodded, and Ilya took his time, looking after Shane in the best way he knew how. He hoped that Shane wasn’t going to beat himself up too much for not being able to get hard. After the doctors had warned them about it at the hospital, that the medications Shane was on and the trauma he’d been through could affect sexual function for some time, Shane had brushed it off, like it wouldn’t happen to him.

But Ilya had been online doing his research, ensuring he knew how best to support Shane through this. The main thing he’d found was just that he had to be patient, and show Shane he loved him, that sex wasn’t a dealbreaker in their relationship. And truly, to Ilya, it wasn’t. He had Shane back, and that was all that mattered. If it was up to Ilya, he and Shane had the rest of their lives to have sex. For now, he just wanted to enjoy time with his boyfriend alone.

They finished up and Ilya dried himself off then Shane, helping him on his crutches back to bed. Shane looked exhausted by the time he was laid down, and Ilya soon joined him, laying on his side and staring at his boyfriend. He thought of all the times he’d laid in hospital next to Shane’s comatose body, praying for moments like this. He would never take a second with Shane for granted again.

“I nearly died,” Shane suddenly said into the calm quiet of the room. The words were ugly, jarring to Ilya’s ears, but he let him speak, knowing Shane was bottling up so much. “I don’t think I’ve said that out loud yet. But I did. I was just having a normal day and… then my life nearly ended. I nearly died, Ilya.”

“Plase don’t,” Ilya whispered, a lump in his throat appearing at those words. “I cannot think about this. It will ruin me.”

“Just… I need to ask, Ilya. You said you got a message. When Hayd and I got into the accident.” Ilya nodded, finding it too hard to speak. “Can I see it? Please, Ilya.”

For whatever reason, Ilya could see that this was something Shane needed. He might not understand it, but if it was what Shane wanted, then he wanted to help. He paused for a second, trying to calm his heart before reluctantly reaching for his phone. He opened up his messages with Jane, and reread it to himself. It was the last one he’d had from Shane’s phone, and seeing it still sent shivers down his spine. Shane read it, staying silent.

“Shit. That’s awful. I’m so sorry you had to get that.”

“Me too. But I was glad, to be contact.”

“I… I did that ages ago. I never really thought it through, what it would mean for you. I was just scared that something would happen to me and you’d find out on the internet or something. You deserve better than that. You mean so much more to me than that.”

“It was hard to get that, yes. But I am glad I knew.”

“What did you do? Mom said you were in New York?”

Ilya nodded, curling closer into Shane’s side, letting Shane soothe him by running his fingers through his still-damp hair. “Yes. I left hotel gym. Marlowe and Coach tell me to go.”

“But…”

“They did not know about you. Said it was Jane. I drive from New York, did not stop. Then David texted me…” he trailed off, knowing they’d filled Shane in with this part of the story already. But there was still something Ilya hadn’t told him. “Marlowe… Shane, he knows about us.”

Shane’s face was stoic then he nodded slowly, letting Ilya’s admission sink in. “You trust him with it?”

“I do. I didn’t tell, he figured it out. Not as stupid as he look.” The silence was deafening, and Ilya wondered if telling Shane was a mistake. “I’m sorry. Are you angry?”

“What? No. Of course not. I’m nervous that he might say something, but… I know you must have needed people around you. I’m just sorry that you were in that position.”

“He will not say anything,” Ilya reiterated, knowing and trusting entirely that Marlowe would keep his word. “He is good person.” They hugged again, and this time, Shane pushed Ilya back against the mattress and shuffled into his side, his head on Ilya’s chest. “Comfy?”

“Very.”

“I love you,” he whispered as Shane started to fall asleep, the excitement of the day finally taking its toll. “Thank you for fighting your way back to me.”

“Thank you for never leaving,” Shane mumbled sleepily. “Love you, Ilya.”

****

The early morning found Ilya sitting on the dock, watching as the sun rose over the private lake surrounding Shane’s cottage. He had tossed and turned all night, but annoyingly hadn’t been able to get more than a few hours sleep. He knew the problem was his mind, that he wasn’t able to switch off properly after weeks of being on high alert, waiting for something awful to happen. Still, he hoped that being away from the hospital would help, but he couldn’t fully relax.

Just after five, he gave up and went outside, grabbing the packet of cigarettes he’d put into his rucksack before they’d left Montreal for Ottawa. He tried not to smoke anymore. Shane had made a few comments about it being bad for him and while Ilya outwardly ignored him, he had already made a conscious effort to cut back to almost nothing. At times like this though, there was nothing that hit the spot for him like a cigarette.

“Thought you’d stopped,” came a voice behind him, startling Ilya out of his reverie. Ilya turned to see Shane wobbling along on his crutches, and he quickly put the cigarette out, jumping to his feet to support Shane. “Hey, I’m not completely useless.”

“No, but with that thing, you may sink if you fall,” Ilya said, nodding towards Shane’s cast. “Let me help you sit.”

After a bit of awkward manoeuvring, Shane was on the dock next to Ilya, their bare legs stretched in front of them. It was a chilly morning, so both were wearing team hoodies, hands entwined between them. Ilya relit the cigarette, and Shane didn’t say a word, just giving Ilya a soft smile. The smoke from the cigarette curled into the air, and everything was still and quiet around them. It felt perfect, and for the first time in the longest time, Ilya felt like he didn’t have a care in the world. It seemed like Shane had noticed, too.

“What’s that look for?”

“What look?” Ilya asked, turning to look at his boyfriend.

“The one on your face. I haven’t seen it before.”

Ilya just smiled. “Maybe it is that I am so happy. Everything is good in life. You are alive, hockey is good, family is good, cottage is good. I have beautiful boyfriend with pretty freckles. I am a lucky man.” He propped himself up, resting his elbow on the deck, his head on his hand as he looked down at the man he loved. “Got all I need right here.”

“Kiss me,” Shane demanded, and Ilya did. “Can’t believe we have three whole days on our own together. Could’ve never dreamed of this before. It’s going to be hard to say goodbye at the end of all this.”

Ilya shushed him, resting a finger on his lips. “No, don’t speak of that. Let us enjoy time we have. Okay? We can sort rest later.”

Shane nodded, smiling up at him, a hand tangled in Ilya’s hair. “Okay. I can do that. I love you.”

“I love you too. So much, Shane. I am so grateful you are here.”

“Me too. And you need to hear this, Ilya… if the worst had happened, if I’d have died that night, it wouldn’t have been because I wanted to leave you. Never that, I promise you.”

Ilya tried to quieten him, tried to press the words back down with gentle fingers against Shane’s lips, but Shane caught his hand and held it against his chest, his voice unsteady but certain, like he meant every word.

“I want to stay,” he began, softer now, like he didn’t want his words to tarnish the tranquility of the early morning peace. “Here. With you. For as long as I get… the rest of my life, if I’m lucky. I want lazy mornings with you. I want the boring days, fun days, the hard ones too, because that’s real life, isn’t it? I want something that’s ours, even if it’s messy, even if we have to fight for it.” He squeezed Ilya’s hand gently, smiling softly at him, the early morning sun bathing them both in a golden glow.

“I want to share my life with you, Ilya. I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care how hard it is. I just…” He paused, swallowing heavily, and Ilya reached up, cupping his cheek gently. “...I just want us. I want this. You. That’s all I want.”

Tears prickled in Ilya’s eyes, not that he minded. He wasn’t afraid to express emotion in front of Shane, not after everything. For a moment, he felt lost for words. Hearing that Shane had wanted to live, to live for him, settled deep inside him, almost overwhelming but in the very best way.

All Ilya had known was loss - that the people who loved him always seemed to leave him, one way or another. But Shane had been the first person in his life to want the opposite… to live for Ilya. Ilya was sure he'd never be able to tell Shane just how much that meant to him, that it changed everything. The feelings that Ilya had for so long buried inside him, feelings of being worthless, that quiet but relentless belief that he wasn’t enough now felt lighter, like it was slowly letting go of him. Shane was showing him how it felt to be loved, what real love was meant to be like and now, finally, something that had been broken in Ilya for most of his life was beginning to heal.

The accident had been the worst time in Ilya's life, yes, but it had also given him so much as well, so much that he would forever be thankful for. Ilya loved the certainty he now felt in his love for Shane… and in Shane’s love for him, too. He loved that this beautiful man next to him was his future, that Shane was the person Ilya wanted to navigate life with. And for the first time in a long while, that future of theirs didn’t feel distant, frightening or uncertain. It felt bright. Shared… just theirs.

Ilya couldn’t wait to start living it with Shane by his side.

Chapter 12

Chapter Summary

Ilya and Shane finally reconnect.

The Pikes come to visit.

Shane makes a return to the home of the Metros.

Chapter Notes

This is it, the penultimate chapter. 7,000+ words of just pure love.

I'm so sorry I didn't post yesterday. Everything just got too heavy in my stupid head and I couldn't be here. I'm sorry. Forgive me?

All my love. Cx

Two Months Later

Ilya pulled his baseball cap down lower as he walked through Ottawa airport. Annoyingly, it had been almost three weeks since he’d been able to fly back to Ottawa to see Shane, and he was missing him like crazy. Facetime calls late at night just weren’t the same, and Ilya spent as much of his free time texting Shane as he could.

His team had had questions, and eventually he’d had to call a meeting with them all at his home. The Raiders had turned up en masse and Ilya had ordered pizza before he’d told them about his relationship. He made sure to keep Shane’s identity a secret, because he knew they wanted to put a proper plan in place, where they could finally reveal their relationship to the world, but Ilya had admitted he was dating someone, that it was serious, and that yes, he’d tell them more when he could. He had the feeling a few of them had connected the dots, realising this person might just be Shane Hollander, but no one had been brave enough to confront him with that yet.

The Raiders didn’t have a game for another week, so Ilya was making the most of the break, flying out on the first flight he could. He’d arranged with David to collect him from the airport since Shane couldn’t drive, and as he exited the terminal, he looked around, spotting a familiar car. As well as speaking daily with Shane, Ilya had been texting Yuna and David for updates, just in case Shane hadn’t been entirely honest with him. As much as they liked to share information about Shane, they also asked just as many questions about Ilya and his days, and he felt lucky to now call them family.

“Hi, David,” Ilya grinned as he saw the man standing outside his car, catching some rays on his face. Ilya easily lifted his suitcase into the rear of the car and shut it, turning again to David and pulling the man into a quick hug. The relationship he’d now built with David was all Ilya had ever wanted with his own father. Someone to be there and support him, that cared because he wanted to, not out of obligation. “How are you?”

“You say that like we haven’t texted each other every day,” David laughed as the pair got into his car, Ilya next to him in the passenger seat. “But I’m good. You look happy.”

“Of course am happy,” Ilya grinned, not bothering to hide it now. “Have won two hockey games, am in Ottawa and get to see Shane. All happy things.”

Ilya saw the way David smiled behind the wheel at the mention of his son.

“How is he?”

“Better,” David replied, indicating and pulling onto the main road. “Since he’s started therapy, he’s opening up to us more as well. He said you call him every night?”

Ilya nodded. “We talk as much as possible. He seems more accepting now, of things.”

“I think he’s realised that he won’t just wake up one morning and be fit enough to play hockey again, that it’s going to be a lot of work,” David revealed. “And that it’s okay for this to be a long struggle. I think seeing you will help.”

“I hope so,” Ilya answered honestly. He had no words for how much he had missed Shane these past few weeks, and he couldn’t wait to be reunited with him. Shane sent constant photos of himself, videos of him working out when he could but it was never enough. It wasn’t the same as the man being in front of Ilya’s eyes, sharing a space with him, and he couldn’t wait for that again. “Are we eating dinner with you?”

“Uh, no,” David chuckled, Ilya not missing the light flush on his cheeks at that admission. “Shane has quite clearly asked for Yuna and I to give you both some space tonight. Yuna did put her foot down about dinner on Sunday, though. “

“Oh. I see.” Ilya was grateful David didn’t bother to expand on the obvious reason that Shane wanted privacy that night, so he quickly changed the subject, chatting to the man about the hockey he’d been playing. Ilya hadn’t realised quite how much he’d missed the game, and being back amongst his team had been a great feeling. They seemed to hold no ill will for Ilya’s extended absence, Marlowe stepping up as Captain in the interim, and they were clearly still on winning form if their last match was anything to go by.

The drive back to the cottage didn’t take as long as Ilya feared, mainly because neither he or David ever seemed to run out of things to say to each other, but nerves suddenly flooded Ilya’s body as they pulled into the driveway. Shane’s car was sitting there, unused as Shane wasn’t cleared to drive and wouldn’t be for a long time. David hopped out and removed Ilya’s suitcase before giving him a quick hug again.

“I’m not coming inside. See you soon, Ilya.”

“Thank you for lift,” Ilya said, a little confused. He’d at least expected David to come in and see his son before he left, but before Ilya could protest or insist that David at least come inside for a drink, the other man was driving away, leaving Ilya alone on the driveway with just his suitcase at his feet. “Какого черта?” What the fuck?

He walked up to the familiar front door, unsurprised when the handle turned easily, the door swinging open. He knew Shane was expecting him but somehow, it felt odd to be going inside without him there to greet him.

“Hollander?." He paused, listening for a reply. "Shane?”

His voice echoed in the cavernous space of the cottage, and Ilya set down his suitcase and slipped off his shoes. He pulled off his hat too and left it on top of his case, lifting his sunglasses onto the top of his head. He walked through the hallway and turned, looking at the living area.

“Heyyyyy,” Ilya said with a grin, seeing the back of Shane’s head where he was sitting on the couch. “Shane? I’m here, give me kiss- oh my god.” Ilya froze. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Shane-” he got out through a sob, his shaking hand flying up to cover his mouth.

Shane slowly stood up and turned, facing Ilya with the biggest grin on his face. He didn’t take his eyes off his boyfriend as he walked towards him, limping but unsupported, to the end of the sofa, biting his lip as he stared back at Ilya.

“Surprise?”

Ilya’s eyes flitted up and down Shane’s body. There was no cast on his leg anymore, and Ilya rushed forward, unable to stop himself. Shane’s laugh rang out loudly and joyfully as Ilya hoisted him up around his waist, spinning him around in complete happiness.

“You didn’t fucking tell me?!” Ilya said, but there was only elation in his voice. He gently set Shane down, and did what he’d been planning to do the entire drive back - he kissed him. But it wasn’t the tender kiss Ilya had envisioned, not now. Their lips smashed together almost uncomfortably, and Ilya didn’t waste time in turning the kiss more passionate, his hands roaming up and down Shane’s back as his tongue pushed into Shane’s mouth, drawing melodic moans from both men. “When? Is this why you did not video call me this week?”

“It is,” Shane confirmed, his face red and he was smiling so widely. Ilya thought he’d never looked more beautiful. “Wanted to surprise you, show you that I can walk on my own now. It’ll take some practise to do it smoothly, like I’m not an invalid-”

“What? Shut up, this is amazing. Show me again.”

Ilya took a few long strides backwards, and held out his arms, much like he would for a child learning to walk. Shane laughed, shaking his head but he let go of the sofa, slowly taking tentative steps towards Ilya. He stopped in front of him, his hands on Ilya’s hips, and Ilya leaned in for a kiss.

“My leg works,” Shane mumbled, his voice low, tilting his head back to give Ilya better access to his neck. Ilya was lost in it, in having Shane back in his arms, in the emotion of seeing him walk again when Shane jutted his hips forward, stilling Ilya in his path. “Something else works again too.”

Ilya pulled his head back, keeping their bodies pressed flushed together. He arched an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Oh? You kept this quiet too, malysh.”

“Sorry,” Shane said, voice low and thick, his hands sliding around back to Ilya’s butt, pulling him closer. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Ilya whispered, enjoying seeing how dark Shane’s eyes were, how his breath was almost shaky now. “What do you want, Shane?” He had a feeling he was pretty certain about, but he needed to hear Shane say it, to confirm that Ilya was reading this correctly.

“Take me to bed, Ilya, need you to fuck me,” Shane said quietly, and Ilya quickly picked him up, careful not to jostle Shane’s leg as he hurried up the few stairs behind them. He all but threw Shane down on the nearest bed when- “Hey, this isn’t my room.”

“Don’t care, has bed,” Ilya blurted out, pulling his black tank top up and over his head, throwing it to the floor. “Clothes off, please.”

The only sound in the room was the rustling of fabric as the clothes they’d been wearing were pulled off and thrown to the floor. Ilya knew that Shane must be lost in the moment because he wasn’t up and folding them, or tutting at Ilya for being so slovenly. He tentatively climbed back onto the bed, smiling down at Shane.

“I won’t break,” Shane reminded him, one hand on the back of Ilya’s neck, the other gripping tightly onto a pillow beneath his head. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“No, but you are precious to me,” Ilya said, carefully moving so his legs were either side of Shane’s on the bed, their arousal evident against each other. “I want to make love to you, Shane, because I love you. Let me take care of you, please?”

Shane pressed his lips together then nodded, and Ilya set about doing what he’d been waiting for. Truthfully, sex hadn’t been on his mind in too long. He wasn’t sure he’d admit it out loud to anyone except Shane, but he hadn’t had sex since the last time he’d been with Shane, and that was almost five months ago now. He hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else either, which to Ilya spoke to the depths of his feelings for the man underneath him.

But seeing Shane like this, so full of life and laid bare for him… Ilya had never wanted anyone more. He kissed over every bare piece of skin that he could, enjoying how Shane moaned and writhed underneath him, batting away his hand every time Shane tried to touch himself. It was a beautiful form of torture, and when he finally took Shane into his mouth, he reached up, his hand grabbing at Shane’s pecs, feeling the muscle that was already building thanks to Shane’s brutal therapy schedule.

“Fu- fuu- fuck- oh god, Ilya, I can’t stop-”

An insistent hand tugged on Ilya’s hair and he reluctantly pulled off, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up at Shane and cursed under his breath, barely able to breathe as he took in the sight of Shane, debauched, sweaty and completely Ilya’s.

“You sure?” Ilya asked, and when Shane nodded at him, Ilya scrambled up the bed, hovering about Shane. “I love you.”

They kissed and mumbled words to each other as Ilya gently opened Shane up, well aware it had been a while since they’d done this. He wasn’t going to risk hurting Shane in any way, and kept checking in with every press of his fingers, only stopping when Shane’s fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Please-” he brokenly begged, and Ilya nodded, reaching for a condom. He made quick work of putting it on then reached down between them, lining up. “Please, Ilya-”

The moan Shane released as Ilya pushed inside him almost made him see stars. It felt like coming home when he was finally buried to the hilt, and Ilya just stayed where he was, leaning down to kiss Shane. Usually, sex between them was hurried, fumbling in a hotel room that offered a sense of anonymity, fulfilling a carnal need. Usually Ilya was rough, just how Shane liked it - hips slamming together, fingers digging in, pinching, pulling at skin.

But this… this was different. Ilya moved with slow, deep thrusts and fumbled for Shane’s hand, threading their fingers together beside Shane’s head. Shane’s eyes were screwed tight, adjusting to Ilya being inside him again, and Ilya bent down, kissing him again.

“Открой глаза, моя любовь,” Ilya murmured, switching to English when he realised he’d spoken in Russian, his brain struggling to work properly. “Open your eyes, my love.”

Shane did as he was asked, and they stayed like that as Ilya rocked into him, careful with Shane’s leg as they moved together. It was hot and sweaty in the room, the sunlight beaming down on them through the floor to ceiling glass windows. Ilya knew there was no-one around, that they couldn’t be seen like this, but there was something about making love to Shane in the open like this that he adored.

They finished almost in sync, panting heavily into each other’s mouth, Ilya pressing kisses to Shane’s lips. Shane winced as Ilya pulled out of him and collapsed onto the sticky sheets, an arm flung across his forehead. It was Shane who moved first, turning and burying himself into Ilya’s side.

“I’ve missed that,” Shane murmured, tracing a fingertip around the circle of Ilya’s nipple. “These three weeks without you have been hard.”

“I know, moya lyubov. But look how far you have come. I cannot believe you kept all of this from me.”

“Getting the cast off? That was Mom’s idea, actually. I nearly called you but she said it might be nice to surprise you. I have a feeling you’ve been talking to her.”

Ilya nodded, unashamed that he’d made a few calls to Yuna when he’d been finding everything a little too emotionally overwhelming. He hadn’t had a mother figure in his life for his pivotal years, and now he did, he was taking full advantage of it. Yuna just seemed to understand Ilya in a way he couldn’t compute. He didn’t have to say much for her to understand his feelings, and offered advice Ilya treasured. He was beyond lucky to have her.

“Sometimes… when my head is too busy. Is that weird for you?”

Shane shook his head. “Somehow no, it isn’t. I like that you can go to her. I think you have a bond that I can’t understand, because of what happened to me. But… I hope you know you can talk to me as well.”

“I do, but sometimes when worries are for you, I cannot. Do you want to shower?” Ilya asked, knowing how Shane hated to lay in their mess when they were done. But to his surprise, Shane shook his head. “No? Who are you and what have you done with my Shane Hollander?”

“I like that,” Shane smiled, carefully shifting his weight onto his side. “Your Shane Hollander.”

“Is true, yes?” Ilya asked, and Shane nodded, confirming with a kiss. “Good. Nap time, you have exhausted me. Then shower and food.”

“I think I’m really going to love these three days,” Shane said softly against Ilya’s skin, resting a hand on his flat stomach. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

*****

Ilya and Shane spent the next two days at the cottage alone, enjoying the solitude of it. Ilya swam in the lake while Shane lazed on the dock, often reading a book Ilya had no interest in or just sitting in silence. It was the sort of time Ilya had always dreamt of sharing with Shane, and he was soaking every moment of it up, knowing it had to come to an end at some point. They’d also exercised together, Ilya showing off a bit while Shane just rolled his eyes, working through his therapy exercises steadily. Ilya had joined in, supporting where he could, but mostly watching in awe as Shane pushed himself as far as he could, always knowing his limits.

Somehow, he’d let Shane talk him into allowing visitors, and the next day, the Pikes and Hollanders had ascended on them. They’d sent a shopping list to Yuna and David, and they’d arrived first, helping Ilya set up the barbecue on the patio before they prepared everything together. It felt ridiculously perfect, preparing a family meal like this in unison, and Ilya took himself outside when it became a bit much for him.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Yuna asked as Ilya fussed around with the table settings, trying to find something to do to keep himself busy. “Ilya, hey, talk to me.”

“Is just a lot,” Ilya said, sniffing and schooling his face into an expression he hoped would hide his emotional state. “Being here, part of family. Happy. Sometimes feel like I do not deserve this.” He waved his hand around, indicating not just Yuna but the cottage, the people inside of it. All of this was a lot.

“Hey… no. Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that,” Yuna said softly, but firmly, slipping the napkins from Ilya’s trembling hands and setting them aside. She reached for him instead, gentle hands taking his.

“If anyone deserves this, Ilya, it’s you.” Her voice was soft but firm, thick with feeling. “Shane hasn’t told me everything, it’s not his place. But I know enough to know your heart’s been through more than it ever should have, especially with your own family. Ilya, I know I’ll never be your mom. And David isn’t your dad. We can’t replace what you lost, or what you should have had, what every child deserves to have. But if you’ll let us… we would be honoured to stand in that space for you. To show up for you. To choose you, every single time.”

Her smile wavered, but it never disappeared. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and Ilya swallowed down the growing lump in his throat.

“We love you, Ilya. The moment you fell in love with our son, you didn’t just become his, you became ours too. You made a place for yourself in this family. You are so wanted here, Ilya. Please… allow yourself to be happy. You deserve it and more, I promise you.”

Yuna opened her arms and Ilya went easily into them, bending down to make himself small enough to rest his forehead on her shoulder, allowing himself to be held. Her embrace felt like home in a different way to Shane’s, but one that he welcomed as well. The Hollanders had given him so much, and Ilya wasn’t sure he could ever repay their kindness.

“Is everything okay?” Shane asked as he came outside, using a crutch to steady himself since he was alone. “Ilya? Mom, what did you-”

Yuna didn’t say a word. Instead, she just smiled and transferred Ilya from her arms into Shane’s, and Ilya felt his whole body relax against Shane’s. Home. This is what it felt like to belong.

“I hope these aren’t tears over having to see Hayden again,” Shane joked, and it worked, breaking Ilya from his spiral. Both men laughed and Ilya stood up, allowing Shane to wipe away his tears with soft fingertips. “Seriously, though. Are you okay? Do you want to talk?”

“Later,” Ilya promised, pecking Shane’s lips. “Just happiness, promise. I love you.”

They pulled apart when they heard more voices inside, and Ilya’s eyes lit up. He helped Shane back into the house before he smiled, seeing Hayden Pike walking into the cottage with two little girls by his side.

“Pike,” he said with a grin, waving at the girls. “You have baby? Give.”

“He’s with Jackie," Hayden replied with a jovial roll of his eyes as Ilya hurried past him, out to the driveway where Jackie was pulling trays and bags out of the trunk.

“Hello Jackie, I am here for baby,” Ilya stated matter-of-factly, not bothering to wait for permission before he opened the car door, smiling at the toddler strapped into his car seat. “Hello, friend. You want to come to Uncle Ilya? Of course you do, more fun than Daddy.”

Ilya strutted proudly back inside with Arthur on his hip, seeking out Shane. He didn’t miss the way Shane melted at the sight, and he stopped next to him, watching fondly as Shane tickled the boy under his chin, making him giggle and bury his face in Ilya’s chest.

“Oh…” Shane breathed, looking into Ilya’s eyes, his hand on Arthur’s back. “How is it you manage to unlock all these things in me that I never knew I wanted?” he asked softly, and Ilya just smiled back, feeling exactly the same. “Aren’t you meant to be manning the barbecue?”

“Eh, your dad and Pike have it under control. I have important job keeping baby from flames.”

Jackie walked past them then, ladened down with bags, just glaring at the two men. “Oh don’t worry yourselves, I’ve got this, thank you!” she said sarcastically, setting everything down on the side.

“Uh, I think I can be excused,” Shane protested, holding his crutch up in the air. “Ilya, on the other hand…”

“Traitor,” Ilya muttered, reluctantly handing Arthur over to Shane. “Jackie, I will help but only because you are second favourite Pike human.”

“Second?” Jackie asked as she set some metal trays into Shane’s fridge.

“Yes, baby Pike then you.”

“Where is my husband on this list?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Ilya, clearly amused.

“Last, but only because you and children are so lovely,” Ilya replied, reaching up to a top cupboard for another salad bowl. He watched as Shane’s eyes found where his t-shirt was lifting up, exposing his stomach. “Shane. You have child. Control yourself, please.”

Shane spluttered before slowly turning, heading out to the deck. “Perfectly controlled, asshole,” he muttered, but Ilya had seen the blush on his cheeks.

Ilya smiled at Jackie, watching as she fished something out of the cupboard behind her. As she stood up, Ilya’s eyes found the small swell of her stomach. They’d told Ilya and Shane a few weeks ago about expecting another baby, something Shane was devastated to hear he’d forgotten because of the accident. Still, they were ridiculously happy for Hayden, and secretly, Ilya couldn’t wait for all the baby cuddles he was going to have.

“How are you doing? Baby good?”

Jackie smiled down at her stomach, her hand resting easily on her belly. “We’re good. In a way, it’s really nice to have something to look forward to after all this. But I’ve told Hayd this is the last one. Four is more than enough.”

“Well, I will always babysit,” Ilya said honestly, his eyes lighting up at the thought. “And Shane, of course. I just… I wanted to say you look lovely. Glowing, I think is right word?”

“It is, and thank you. You look much lighter too,” Jackie mused as she and Ilya chopped up vegetables for the younger children, setting them onto colourful plastic plates that Ilya had no idea Shane owned. “Must be nice, life getting back to normal for you.”

Ilya nodded. “Yes, is nice to play hockey again. I wish Shane could too, but he will, I know it. Is hard, being away from him now but I come here when I can. Will be enough for now.”

“Good. Hayden’s been working out on Facetime with Shane when he does his therapy. I think it’s helping both of them to work through this together. I know we were there supporting them, but they’re the only ones who really know what they’re going through, you know?”

Ilya did understand, but he was still flooded with jealousy at the thought of Hayden spending time with Shane that he couldn’t share. He’d really enjoyed helping Shane with his exercises over the past few days, and felt proud that Shane wasn’t pushing it too far, that he was letting his body dictate his limits. “I take this outside,” Ilya said with a smile, lifting two small plates into his hands. He set them down in front of the twins, who were sitting playing with dollies at the table.

Shane was sitting to one side of them, a tired baby Arthur resting against him, a tiny thumb in his mouth. Ilya walked over, kissing the top of Shane’s head before he sat down next to him, deciding that everything else was under control, that he could afford to relax for a bit.

“We are good here,” Ilya said softly, looking around, feeling content. “Family, friends… is nice.”

The noise around them was pleasant, the sound of familiarity and happiness. David and Hayden were at the barbecue, chatting amiably as they cooked, while Yuna and Jackie shared a bottle of non-alcoholic wine, watching over the girls eating their cucumber sticks. Shane continued to stare out across the lake, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. Ilya worried for a moment before Shane began to speak, his voice low, just for Ilya to hear.

“It scares me.”

“What does, moy lyubimy?”

“That I nearly lost this,” Shane confessed, and Ilya watched a tear betray him, sliding beneath Shane’s sunglasses. He quickly wiped it away, but Ilya snatched up his hand, pressing his lips to the back of it, hoping Shane would continue. “I keep thinking that… a different angle, or a couple of miles an hour faster.. I might not have made it. Every time I close my eyes, I’m scared I won’t wake up, Ilya. Because everything feels too good right now, and I keep waiting for something bad to happen.”

“Worst did happen, Shane,” Ilya admitted, stroking his thumb back and forth over Shane’s hand. “We nearly lose you. But we have second chance. Is blessing. Not everyone gets this.”

“I know. And I’m not wasting a second of it,” Shane confessed, reaching up and pulling his sunglasses onto the top of his head, nestled in his hair. “I want this with you, Ilya. A family, time together where you don’t have to run away every few days. Where we don’t have to hide what we mean to each other.”

“Shane, do not say this if you do not mean it…”

“I do,” Shane said, something in his eyes telling Ilya that he definitely did. “I might never be able to play hockey again. I know that. Before, that would’ve killed me. I wouldn’t have wanted to go on without hockey, it was everything to me. But now, after all of this, to me, everything is a person. You.”

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya sobbed, leaning in and kissing him. Jackie must’ve sensed something was going on because she came over, wordlessly lifting Arthur from Shane’s lap, giving Ilya room to crowd against him, not caring a jot who was watching. “Ya tebya lyublu. I want all this too, with you.”

Shane reached up kissing him before he pulled back, relaxing back into his chair. He looked down at where their hands were linked, resting on the arm of his chair. Ilya could practically see the cogs turning in Shane’s mind, and he froze, watching Shane reach for his phone. He stayed silent as Shane opened the camera, snapping a photo. He took his hand back as he tapped out something on the screen, biting his lip as he concentrated, finally looking at Ilya.

“How would you feel if I posted this? I don’t think it’s obvious it’s you, but it’s a start?”

Ilya hated the hesitancy in Shane’s voice so he took the phone, taking in the drafted Instagram post. The fact Shane was even contemplating posting something like this on social media when he was usually so private was a huge step, but Ilya knew the attention this would draw. It was a photo of their entwined hands, their bare forearms exposed, clearly two male forearms. It was the caption, though, that brought tears to Ilya’s eyes.

“Find someone who stays by your side through the good times and the bad. The one who holds your hand when everything gets too loud. Someone who chooses you each and every time. Someone who feels like home.”

“You are sure?” Ilya was determined that Shane was certain about this, because once it was out there, there would be no going back.

“Are you?” Shane asked, and Ilya nodded, the easiest yes he’d ever given in his life. That was enough for Shane. Ilya watched as Shane hit the button to post it then he turned his phone off completely, setting it face down on the table. “Done. Wow. Okay. You hungry?”

Ilya burst out laughing at Shane’s ridiculous topic change but he nodded, rubbing the back of Shane’s head lovingly.

“Yes, moy lyubimy, I’m hungry. Sit. Let me get us food.”

“Burger, please, no-”

“No pickles, I know,” Ilya said, getting to his feet. “I think I know what you like after all these years.”

The smile Shane gave him in reply was all he needed. This, right here, was happiness.

****

“You ready for this?” Ilya asked, seeing Shane’s feet nervously tapping on the floor. It had been ten days since the wonderful barbecue at the cottage, and Ilya had since played a game with the Raiders, trouncing the Admirals, yelling Для тебя, моя любовь into the camera when he scored the winning goal. For you, my love.

Now, they were backstage at the Metros rink, while the game was being played on the ice between the team and the Ottawa Centaurs. Ilya had tried to tell Shane he’d wait for him at home, but Shane had been insistent that Ilya come, even if they had to hide out together.

“No, but also yes,” Shane answered, letting out a long, slow breath. “It’s been a long time coming.”

Shane wasn’t fit to skate, not yet. But the Metros had asked if he’d consider coming back when they next played at home, to greet the fans and speak to them. After a discussion with Ilya and his parents, Shane had decided that it was something he wanted to do, and plans had been put into motion. He’d chosen a game that didn’t clash with Ilya’s schedule, and they’d driven to the rink in silence, Ilya and Shane holding hands in the back of the car while Yuna and David chatted in the front, giving them space.

“Best put this on, then,” Yuna said, coming over and handing Shane his Metros jersey. Shane hadn’t worn one of these since before his accident, and Ilya watched as Shane pulled off his shirt, pulling the jersey over his head, the number 24 slotting into place between his shoulders, his name plastered across his back. He’d seen this countless times since their rookie year, but now, it felt special. “Beautiful. You look wonderful, honey.”

“Why am I so fucking terrified?” Shane asked, looking around at the family gathered to support him. “I’ve been coming here since I was fucking seventeen.”

“I’ll look past the language,” Yuna started, making Ilya chuckle. If only she knew how much of a potty mouth Shane had when they were alone. “But it’s your first time back on the ice in front of everyone since the accident, Shane. This is huge, so please don’t minimise it. You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling. Your dad and I will be right by your side.”

“And I will be watching from here with pride,” Ilya said, reaching for Shane’s hand. “You should enjoy it, because fans will lose their minds seeing you. You will feel so loved.”

“I already do,” Shane said, glancing up at the TV, seeing the match was finishing. The Metros had won, meaning the crowd would be in an even better mood. “We should go, wait in the tunnel. Kiss for good luck, please?”

Ilya was glad Yuna and David headed out of the door as he pulled Shane into a kiss, deepening it just because he could. He could hear Shane moaning so he pulled back, not wanting to rile him up before he walked out in front of his fans. He could do that later, when they were alone.

“Go. Be their Captain,” Ilya said, looking proudly at his boyfriend.

Shane hesitated for a second. “Take this?” he asked, holding out the walking stick he’d been using for stability. Ilya must have looked like he wanted to protest but Shane pushed it into his hand. “Please. I need to do this on my own two feet.”

Ilya nodded and took the stick, resting it against the wall. “Good luck, moye solnyshko.”

He could only watch as Shane walked through the door, leaving him alone. He sat himself down in front of the TV that was in the room, broadcasting everything that was going on on the ice. He knew that going out there, holding Shane’s hand would be too much, but it wasn’t as far away as he used to fear.

The picture on Instagram that Shane had posted had exploded, just as predicted. Speculation was rife now about the identity of the owner of the second arm, most people losing their minds over both Shane’s heartfelt words, and over the fact Shane was holding hands with another man. Ilya had seen many names thrown about, but hardly anyone had guessed that it was him, which quietly pleased Ilya. They'd obviously hidden their love well.

Ilya knew the moment Shane was brought out onto the ice because he could feel the room shake around him. The crowd was absolutely losing it, and Shane looked entirely overwhelmed, clinging to Yuna and David for dear life as they escorted him onto the ice to the biggest standing ovation Ilya had ever seen. He shed tears quietly as he watched Shane soak in the moment, all of his team applauding to the side as their Captain finally returned home.

The Metros continued to skate around, encouraging the crowd to keep cheering before finally, Shane had a microphone in his hand, his cheeks red with embarrassment and pride. Slowly, everyone fell quiet, and Ilya turned the TV up, not wanting to miss a word.

“Wow, I did not expect this,” Shane began, laughing into the microphone. The room was almost silent, everyone hanging off his every word. The camera zoomed out, taking in the proud expressions on Yuna and David’s faces as they stood back, letting their son have his moment, the moment he’d been waiting a long time for. “This is just amazing, thank you so much to the team for inviting me back… I am so pleased to be back home with the best team in the MHL.”

The resounding cheer caused another huge smile to erupt on Shane’s face.

“As you know, these past few months have been really hard for me and my family. The accident is the most frightening thing I have ever been through, and I am so grateful that I have come out of it relatively unscathed.” Applause began at that, and Shane nodded, waiting for it to die down before he continued. “My leg is still healing, and it’s going to be a lot of work to get me back on the ice, to play with this amazing team. But what I can tell you is that is my goal. To be back playing professional hockey again. To be Captain of the Metros again.”

The crowd cheered again, and Shane just stood, letting it sink in. Ilya just watched, utterly transfixed, watching Shane receive the adulation he absolutely deserved.

“I’ve said it online, but if you’ll allow me, I’d like to take a few minutes to thank the people who kept me alive, who made it possible for me to be here today. The entire team at Montreal General Hospital are amazing, and I quite literally owe my life to them. They looked after me and my family for over a month, and I will forever be in their debt. I’ve spoken with the team and we will be playing a charity match to raise funds for this amazing hospital, so please make sure you support that.”

Ilya smiled to himself. The audience had no idea that the game would be against the Boston Raiders, that every player would be donating their match fee to the hospital, and that every penny raised from ticket sales and merch sales would be given away. It hadn’t taken much to get their teams on board with the idea either, making Ilya so proud.

“My physical therapy team has been instrumental in getting me back to fitness, which has been so important for both my physical and mental health. A huge thank you to Lisa and Nate for their endless support and expertise, for driving out to Ottawa to support my recovery.”

Again, the audience cheered, and Ilya clapped quietly to himself, sitting alone in the room.

“To the fans…” Shane cut himself off, his voice cracking with emotion now. Yuna stepped forward and wrapped her arm around Shane’s shoulder, supporting him. “You have no idea how much your support has meant to me. The team has been bringing boxes of letters, gifts, and cards to my home since the accident, and I promise you I am reading each and every one of them. Your support online, to the team, to my family has been everything to me. I appreciate your loyalty, and I promise to repay it when I can.”

At that, Shane slowly turned around, applauding all of the fans. Soon, Yuna, David and the rest of the Metros joined in. The cameras moved away from Shane to focus on the fans, some of them screaming in happiness, others crying, moved by Shane’s kind words.

“Finally, please allow me to thank my amazing family. I have put my parents through hell with all of this but they never left my side. They were there through everything, waiting for me to wake up, never doubting that I would. My mom has been by my side my entire career, managing me from before I was rookie to now, and I wouldn’t be where I am without her. My dad has quietly supported every single thing I’ve ever wanted to do, and he is the best man I know. I will spend the rest of my life thanking them for everything they have done for me.”

Yuna was openly crying now, and both Hollanders went over to Shane, the three lost in their own world as they hugged, everyone cheering around them. It was emotional, and Ilya stood up, straightening his shirt, ready to meet them outside. He’d helped Shane write this speech, and knew it was coming to an end.

“Before I go,” Shane said, his voice less steady than before, his eyes red-rimmed. “There is someone else I want to thank.”

Ilya frowned, staring at the screen as Shane stared down the lens of the camera. It felt like they were looking at each other. This wasn’t part of their script.

“Some of you will have seen my Instagram post a few weeks ago. You will know I have someone in my life that means everything to me. Someone I have had to hide for too long. Someone who deserves more than to be a secret. We’ll be open with you soon, but for now, I wanted to publicly say…” Shane looked up again, into the camera, eyes soft and full of love, tears clinging desperately to his waterline. “I love you so much. Thank you for being my person, my rock, my home. Thank you for always being by my side, for fighting for me. I am so proud to be yours.”

Tears fell freely down Ilya’s cheeks now, and he collapsed into a chair, crying into his hands. He cried as Shane said his final goodbyes to the team, waving at fans as he walked off the ice. Ilya could see the tension in his body, knowing that Shane was clearly in pain, but he knew that his boyfriend would definitely think it was worth it.

He waited nervously alone until finally, the door opened. As Shane walked inside, Ilya swooped in and scooped him into his arms, holding him tightly before he dragged him further inside, pulling him in and kissing him hard.

“I love you too,” he sobbed as Shane just held him, letting him feel every emotion running through his body. “I cannot believe you do this.”

“Why? I meant it. I am so proud of you, of being yours,” Shane said softly, forcing Ilya to look at him. “We’ve overcome so much, Ilya. I nearly died. I want the world to know I’m lucky enough to have you, to be yours. Even if they don’t know who you are just yet. For now, anyway.”

“Let’s go home, Shane,” Ilya said, his eyes darkening as they stared at each other. “Take me home and let me prove to you how much I belong to you.”

“Yeah?” Shane asked, breathing heavily against Ilya.

“Da. Yes please.” Ilya’s smile turned small and almost shy, like the enormity of what had just happened had finally settled into something warm and real. He stepped close again instead of away, lifting a hand to cradle Shane’s jaw. He pressed their foreheads together, lingering there as he looked deeply into his eyes.

“Let’s go, Hollander,” he murmured, his voice low and certain now. “Home.”

Chapter 13: Epilogue

Chapter Summary

This is it...

Enjoy. C xxx

Chapter Notes

18 months later

“Let’s fucking go!” Ilya screamed at the top of his lungs as Bood slammed the puck into the back of the net, securing the win for the Centaurs. Sure, this team hadn’t been known for greatness before Ilya had willingly moved to them just over a year ago, but good God were they turning things around. Ilya had stepped easily into the role of Captain, and the team had risen to each and every challenge he’d set them.

The final whistle blew, and the fans in the arena exploded, celebrating a much needed win over the Toronto Guardians. Ilya applauded the fans as he skated a few laps around, thanking them for their support before he congratulated each and every member of his team, winking whenever the camera lens found him.

Eventually, it was time to leave the ice and Ilya waited until last, letting his team soak up the praise before they went through the tunnel, back to their changing room. Celebrations were still ongoing when Ilya walked in, his skates in his hand. The first thing he did was grab his phone from his stall, opening the messages with Shane, no longer disguised behind a female name.

Ilya locked his phone and started pulling off his hockey gear. He knew Shane would have a coronary if he saw the state of Ilya’s belongings but he didn’t care. As long as he had everything he needed, Ilya didn’t care about folding and stacking. He walked through the showers with a towel around his waist, chatting easily with his teammates as they let the water sluice the sweat from their bodies.

“It feels so good to fucking win, you know?” Bood called over the spray of the water, each of his teammates nodding. “You really inspire us, Cap.”

“Happy to hear this,” Ilya said with a grin, scrubbing shampoo into his curls.

“Coming out to celebrate?” Hayes shouted, and most of the team yelled agreement, except Ilya, who stayed quiet. “Captain, you coming out?”

“Uh, I-”

“He can’t. He has loverboy waiting at home for him,” Bood teased with a wink, always a fan of enjoying shit-talking his captain. While Ilya missed the easy relationship he had had with Marlowe back at the Raiders, he was growing rather fond of Zane Boodram, not that he would ever admit that to anyone except Shane, and even then it was under the cover of darkness.

“Fuck off, Bood,” Ilya said, but there was nothing behind his words. “Yes, I will be going home to my lover, as you call him.”

That had been the main change in Ilya’s life, and he was loving every second of it. Together, he and Shane had come out to the public, first revealing to their teams that they were together before cementing it at the charity fundraiser match between the Raiders and the Metros, raising funds for the hospital that had saved Shane’s life all that time ago. They skated out holding hands, Shane still wobbly and hesitant but with Ilya by his side, he had felt invincible. Shane had made an emotional speech as he’d handed over a giant cheque to the hospital for over $2 million, and Ilya’s heart had pounded as Shane had spoken the words they’d worked on together, confirming what it seemed many people had already guessed.

“This comes with more gratitude than words can ever hold, from myself and from my family. No amount of thanks will ever be enough for what you’ve done for me. You didn’t just help save me, you gave me my life back. You gave me the chance to be a better son. The chance to step onto the ice again. The chance to dream again.”

He looked at Ilya, expression full of love. Ilya was so proud of him.

“It also gave me the chance to love… and to be loved. This donation isn’t just from me. It comes from everyone who stood beside me when I couldn’t stand on my own. From the Montreal Metros. From the fans who never stopped believing in me. From my parents, Yuna and David. And from the man who will forever share my life, my heart, and my future… my partner, Ilya Rozanov.”

Everything had gone crazy after that. Ilya and Shane had just walked off the ice hand in hand again, and he’d held Shane while his boyfriend’s legs had turned to jelly, almost unable to support himself. They’d laughed in almost disbelief that it had happened, that they were finally out. The world knew. Sure, there would be people who hated the fact they were in love. That believed two hockey players being romantically involved was fundamentally wrong on every level. They knew that. They were going into it with their eyes open.

But now they were free. And they’d made the most of it. It was what had prompted Ilya to leave the Raiders at the end of the last season, deciding that living in another country to the man he loved wasn’t feasible anymore. Russia wasn’t home anymore, hadn’t been for a long time. Shane was his home, and wherever he was, Ilya wanted to be. Joining the Centaurs had sent shockwaves through the MHL, but Ilya was the happiest he’d ever been. Moving to Ottawa had been the best decision he had ever made.

He and Shane were only two hours apart now, and spent every moment they could together. They could openly cheer each other on, and Ilya had cried the first time Shane had attended a Centaurs match, proudly wearing a jersey with 81 and Rozanov plastered across the back of it. The resulting photo snapped by a fan had gone viral online, and was forever immortalised in their home, Ilya insistent on creating a canvas out of it. That was a sight he’d never forget, and he wanted the memory to live on.

Ilya hugged and thanked each of the players as they left the arena, ready to get home to their own families. Shane was waiting for him at the cottage, and Ilya couldn’t wait to get back to him. He’d been in New York for the past week, practising and playing against the Admirals, and they’d only had a night together in Ottawa before Shane had had to leave for his own match the previous night. So yes, Ilya just wanted to get home.

The drive to Shane’s cottage wasn’t long, and Ilya’s car ate up the miles at speed while he talked to his best friend Svetlana, who had been missing him since she’d been left behind in Boston. He knew she was happy for him, though, and he was grateful that she and Shane got on well, once they realised they had no need to be jealous of each other. They were both important people to Ilya and had their own places in his life. He needed them both, but in very different ways.

“Honey, I am home,” Ilya called out as he walked through the front door, throwing his hockey gear into a pile in the corner. Shane would probably clear it up within the hour, but right now, Ilya needed to find his man. Low music was playing, and Ilya looked around, finding Shane in the kitchen. A wrapped gift was sitting on the table, where Shane had clearly set up a romantic meal.

“Hey, you’re here,” Shane grinned, setting down the wooden spoon in his hand, hurrying around the island to greet his boyfriend. “Missed you. Well done for today, you and the team are playing great.”

“It was good,” Ilya agreed as he crowded Shane against the marble worktop. “Is dinner ready?”

“Five minutes,” Shane replied, laughing off Ilya’s groan. “You can wait an hour, can’t you?”

“No,” Ilya pouted, but Shane just kissed him. “Fine, yes. What are you making?”

“Salmon, with potatoes and salad. Don’t worry, I have bread for you,” he said, reaching for a basket and setting it on the table. Ilya reached for the present, and Shane snatched it back, blushing slightly. Interesting. “Later.”

“How was practise?” Ilya asked as he followed Shane around the kitchen, laughing when Shane swatted his thigh with a tea-towel to get him to move. “How was the ankle?”

“All good today again,” Shane replied easily with a grin. He’d been back on the ice for almost a year now, and Ilya was so grateful that he’d seemingly made a full recovery. Yes his leg and ankle ached after a long match, and yes, he ached terribly in the cold snowy Canadian winters, but Shane had promised that was a small price to pay if it meant he was back doing the sport that he loved.

His return to the ice had been the most emotional moment of Ilya’s life. They’d manage to coordinate it so that Shane returned when the Metros were playing the Raiders, just before he left and moved to Ottawa. The Raiders had taken to the ice first, and even though Hollander wasn’t everyone’s favourite player, every single fan and player had given him the biggest cheer and standing ovation as he’d finally made it on the ice. It had almost killed Ilya to watch Pike supporting Shane through it, but Shane had quickly hugged and high-fived some of the other Raiders before finally making it to Ilya, the two throwing caution to the wind and quickly hugging each other before the match had begun.

Ilya had played in a lot of important matches in his career; matches for his country, for the Stanley Cup. But none would ever match up to watching Shane Hollander back at his best, in his natural environment. It was the first time Ilya had easily accepted a loss, and he and Shane had celebrated alone together for the next week… it had been utterly glorious.

Shane dished up their food and they ate at the table together, a small candle burning between them. Ilya loved that Shane was embracing his more romantic side, and he rested his foot on top of Shane’s as they ate, discussing the match, Shane’s earlier physiotherapy session. He was well healed now and skating again, but there were still times he ached so badly after a match that Ilya needed to carry him inside, his muscles betraying him. The physio was working through it with Shane, teaching Ilya massage techniques to help at home. They’d made good use of that massage oil.

“Delicious, thank you,” Ilya quipped as he set his knife and fork together on his empty plate. “Bed now?”

“Just… wait a minute? You’re insatiable,” Shane sighed, slightly exasperated. “Go and get changed, then come back out here. I have something for you.”

“You have plug in?” Ilya asked hopefully, but Shane just gave him the middle finger before he walked away, clearing the table. “Fine. You are so boring, Hollander.”

“You love me!” Shane shouted as Ilya made his way through the house, arriving at their bedroom. He stripped quickly out of his sportsgear, putting it in the hamper before he pulled on some clean shorts and a linen shirt. Yuna had bought it for him for his last birthday, and he had to admit that the woman had good taste. She had raised the love of his life, after all. He ruffled his unkempt curls in the mirror before he went back outside, frowning when there was no sign of Shane.

He stepped outside and saw Shane sitting on a chair on the dock, an empty one beside him. He made his way barefoot to join him, seeing the wrapped parcel now on Shane’s lap. His curiosity was piqued but he settled down into the chair, accepting the beer Shane handed him, taking a big gulp.

“Beautiful view,” he said softly, stretching out his long legs in front of him. The sun was starting to set, and the sky was the most beautiful array of pinks, oranges and blues. There was something so utterly peaceful about being at the cottage, and Ilya knew they’d be spending a lot of their future there. Shane was barefoot as well, his feet crossed at his ankles, and Ilya quickly dared to look at him, worried at his silence. “Are you okay, moya lyubov?”

Shane just nodded before turning to look at Ilya, his fingers playing nervously with the corner of the wrapped gift on his lap. “I’m fine. Just… sort of regretting and maybe worrying not talking to you about this beforehand.”

“Okay…” Ilya said, dragging out the word. “You think I will be upset? Or angry?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure you’ll love it. Just… here.” Shane just thrust the package at Ilya, and he took it, looking down at it. It was beautifully wrapped, just as every gift he’d received from Shane was.

“Shall I…”

“Yes, fuck, just open it,” Shane blurted out, and Ilya did as he was asked. He carefully lifted each flap then parted the paper, frowning down in confusion as he revealed a familiar logo.

“What is this… oh. Oh, Shane. You didn’t. Oh my god.” He reached into the paper and pulled the gift out fully, exposing it entirely to confirm what he thought he had seen. He let the wrapping paper flutter to the floor as he held it up in front of them, tears prickling his eyes. “Does this mean…”

Shane just nodded as Ilya held the jersey up, continuing to stare in wonder at the number 24 and the name HOLLANDER across the back. “I'm leaving the Metros, Ilya. As of next season, I’ll be an Ottawa Centaur. Playing with you. By your side.”

“Fuck-” Ilya brought the jersey to his face, covering where he was already crying. In the past two years, Shane Hollander had brought Ilya Rozanov to tears more times than he would ever admit. That was how gone he was for this man. “I cannot believe this. We will play together. Oh god-”

“You’re happy?” Shane asked, and Ilya finally looked at him, nodding through his tears. “Good, because I’ve taken a fucking huge pay cut to come here with you.” Shane’s resulting laugh had Ilya smiling. “Not that we need the money but you know, principles. I know two hours is better than a plane ride away, but that’s still too much for me.”

“We will play for Centaurs together, on same side,” Ilya said, almost in a daze at the very thought. “Teammates, after so long. I cannot believe you did this for me, Shane.”

“For us,” Shane corrected gently. “I was serious when I said my entire future was woven together with yours. Wherever you go, I follow, yeah?” Ilya just nodded. “I just… fuck it.”

Shane stood up abruptly, reaching out a hand and pulling Ilya to his feet. Ilya almost stumbled but Shane caught him, his strong hands on Ilya’s arms. Ilya smiled and threw the jersey onto the chair next to him, letting Shane take both of his now empty hands. Shane was visibly trembling, so Ilya stepped closer, holding their hands between their bodies.

“I wanted to do this properly. To make a big thing of it, for you. But this is perfect.” Shane reached up, cupping Ilya’s face with his hands, tears shining in his eyes. “Please marry me, Ilya. Be my husband. Be my forever. Marry me, please?”

Ilya could hear the blood pulsating in his ears as he allowed Shane’s words to sink in, to realise what he’d said. He could see the emotion in Shane's face, how a look of complete devotion had taken over. Ilya always wanted to see that look, to be the one that caused Shane to look like that.

“Oh my god, Shane-” he said, voice cracking as tears started to fall down both men’s cheeks. “Yes, yes please,” Ilya answered easily before Shane crashed their lips together. This kiss, to Ilya, was everything. It was a promise, a vow of forever… all he’d ever wanted.

“I don’t even have a ring yet,” Shane laughed as they finally broke from their kiss. “I saw one a few weeks ago, but then I thought I had time to get it, to do this whole big thing, make it perfect-”

“No, this is perfect,” Ilya insisted, wrapping Shane up in a tight hug, swaying the two of them from side to side. He pulled back, looking at his fiance in awe. “We are getting married, Hollander.”

“I know,” Shane grinned, looking more beautiful than Ilya had ever seen him. His fiancé. “After everything we’ve been through, I think we deserve a happy ending.”

“The happiest,” Ilya agreed, kissing him again.

It took just seconds for Ilya to scoop Shane into his arms, dragging him inside and to their bedroom, where he spent the next two hours showing just how much he loved him, and how excited he was for them to be getting married. He couldn’t hold back from murmuring Муж in Russian as he’d fucked slowly and tenderly into Shane, relishing every second of it, of how it sounded coming from his mouth, directed at Shane. Husband. The word would never fail to turn Ilya on.

Later, they were back outside, wrapped in blankets and laying on the dock together, staring up at the stars. Shane had felt cold so Ilya had dragged him into his lap, settling him between his legs, pressed chest to back. Ilya’s fingers were tucked up under Shane’s t-shirt, running his fingertips back and forth over his smooth stomach. He loved how private the cottage was, that they wouldn’t be seen, but part of him wished he could show the world just how sickeningly in love they were. His Instagram was already desperately trying to prove just that, had been for years… even before they could truly share their true selves with the world.

“When the accident happened… when I thought I was going to lose you,” Ilya started slowly, thinking through his words carefully. “In the dark, when I could not sleep, I thought about what I would say if you had died.”

“Did you?”

Ilya nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell me? Please? If you don’t mind, I mean.”

Ilya knew this would be hard to say out loud, but somehow, he needed Shane to hear it, for him to know. “Would have said it was privilege to have been yours, even for just stolen moments. How I would miss you every moment of rest of my life. You would have left so much of you behind, Shane. A legacy, yes. For hockey, for Metros. But for me? I would hope you had left me your heart. And I would have carried it everywhere with me, until was time for me to see you again, to walk beside you in every lifetime.”

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane sniffed, voice full of emotion as he wiped at his eyes. “I hate that you went through that because of me. That you even had to think about those things. I’m so sorry.”

“It is over now, you are here with me, always,” Ilya said, kissing the top of Shane’s head.

“You know about my family, yes?” Ilya asked a few moments later, his voice low, like he didn’t want to disturb the silence around them. Shane nodded, pulling Ilya’s arms tighter around his waist. “My mother… I miss her everyday. She has been gone from my life much longer than she was in it. I have forgotten her voice now, but I can see her face when I close my eyes. It is not enough, and still it hurts. I wish you could meet her. She would have loved you.”

Shane nodded, lacing their fingers together. Ilya hadn’t spoken so freely in a long time, and the words continued to pour from him.

“My mama… she was so kind, so beautiful. My father was so cruel to her. With words, with hands. I used to be scared of love, because that was all I knew of it. Cruel words, fear. I was so scared to love you. To hurt you.”

“You’d never hurt me, Ilya.”

“Da. I know this now. But I was scared to be like him. To hurt instead of love.”

“What changed?” Shane asked softly, rubbing his hands along Ilya’s bare forearms.

“You. The accident,” Ilya admitted, probably for the first time. “I was more terrified of not telling you I love you than holding back. I realise I am not like him, that I could love like my mother loved me. Kind, gentle, complete. You changed everything for me, Shane.”

Shane tilted his head back, and Ilya gently brought their lips together.

“Love should not be conditional,” Ilya continued, like a dam had broken in him now he’d begun to talk. “I had to earn my father’s love every single day of my life. To win at hockey, to be best. If I fail, he would dismiss me… ignore me, tell me I was hopeless. I was so small, and he broke me. I want to go back and tell that boy he is not worthless.”

“You’re not, you’re absolutely not,” Shane whispered. “You’re so precious, Ilya. You are the kindest, most wonderful man I have ever met, and I am so lucky you’re mine. You’ve never been worthless, no matter what he thought or said, I promise you.”

“You have made me see this,” Ilya agreed. “Love is for always. For good and bad. And I choose it everyday with you, Shane. It is only thing strong enough to keep me going some days.” Shane squeezed his hands at those words. “I love you, for all you give me. Love. A family, a home.”

“Always,” Shane said, and Ilya could hear the promise in his single word.

“Loving you is easiest thing I have ever done,” Ilya said, feeling choked up now. “Thank you for being brave with me.”

“And we still have so much to look forward to,” whispered Shane, shifting so he was sitting facing Ilya, on his lap now, his arms looped loosely around his neck. “A whole future. You and me.”

“There will not ever be a day I do not say I love you,” Ilya vowed, remembering how it had felt in that hospital room all those months ago, praying for Shane to wake up, for him to hear the words Ilya had kept inside for too long. Never again. He’d never make that mistake again. “You deserve to feel loved, Shane Hollander.”

“So do you, Ilya Rozanov,” Shane said through a smile, both men nose to nose. “More than anyone else I’ve ever met. I love you.”

“I love you too. Shall we go inside?”

Shane nodded, and they stood up carefully, hand in hand. Shane folded the blanket as Ilya waited patiently for him. Hand in hand, they walked in the shadow of the moonlight back into their cottage, their future shining brightly in front of them, theirs for the taking. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

In the quiet of the evening, with the world resting outside, Ilya knew with a certainty he'd never had the privilege to feel before that he was home - safe, loved, and finally where he belonged, at Shane’s side, ready to begin his forever.

 

THE END.

Chapter End Notes

That's it. The end.

Thank you for everything. For having faith in me to give these two the happy ending they so badly deserve. For getting through the heartache with me.

Your support has been everything and I will never forget it.

Thank you, always. xx