Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander & Shane Hollander & Yuna Hollander, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike & Ilya Rozanov, David Hollander & Shane Hollander & Yuna Hollander & Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike & Jackie Pike & Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Svetlana Vetrova

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Hayden Pike, Boston Bears | Boston Raiders Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Jean-Jacques Boiziau | J. J. Dagenais, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Svetlana Vetrova

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Heavy Angst, Major Character Injury, POV Shane Hollander, Anxious Shane Hollander, Protectiveness, Protective Shane Hollander, Medical Trauma, Medical Inaccuracies, Accidents, Shane Hollander Needs a Hug, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, Coming Out, Good Parents David Hollander/Yuna Hollander, Supportive Hayden Pike, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Ilya Rozanov, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Injured Ilya Rozanov, Pain, Hospitals, Supportive Montreal Voyageurs | Montreal Metros, Supportive Boston Bears | Boston Raiders (Game Changers), Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Shane Hollander, BAMF Hayden Pike, Good Friend Hayden Pike

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-07-12 Completed: 2026-09-27 Words: 137,668 Chapters: 25/25

(If The Plane Goes Down) I'll Remember Where The Love Was Found

Summary

"If this is it," Shane whispered, so quietly only Ilya could hear, "you won't face a single second of it alone."

Ilya closed his eyes. His fingers tightened around Shane's hand with everything he had left.

He saw the fear in Ilya’s eyes.

Then he saw nothing.

*******

It was supposed to be an ordinary flight. Instead, it becomes the worst day of their lives.

They were never meant to be on the same plane. Then the unthinkable happens. It goes down.

As terrified passengers flee the wreckage, Shane refuses to abandon the man he loves, even as rescuers and survivors alike order him to get out. Trapped beneath twisted metal, Ilya is running out of time. And while they wait for help, the secret they've spent years protecting slips into the hands of strangers with phones.

In an instant, the whole world is watching. Hockey can burn. The headlines can wait.

Shane Hollander has exactly one job: keep Ilya alive.

Because if they survive this, he'll have to protect more than Ilya's life. He'll have to protect everything they've built together against impossible odds.

Notes

As usual, I have to make my thank yous.

Firstly, to one of the best people I've met through this fandom, and the best beta EVER, Kelsey. She is simply the best at what she does, and my stories would be crap without her magic touch.

Secondly, to Sylwia, for reading everything I write and encouraging me every single time. I love working with both of you so much!

This is going to be a ride but all I can say is.... trust me. It's going to hurt. Sorry about that.

Enjoy, and please do let me know in the comments what you think as you're reading! It encourages me so much, and I read all of them. They mean so much to me!

Please enjoy...xxx

Companion playlist for songs that inspired the chapter titles:
Spotify Playlist
Apple Music Playlist

Trigger Warnings
The following TW's apply to this fic:
Major character injury
Hospitalisation
Medical procedures
Prolonged medical trauma

Please note there is NO MCD.

Chapter 1: When you love someone, you make room...

Vancouver

Shane looked around the building as he walked down the corridor, heading for the double doors at the end. Usually, he was accompanied on these shoots by his mom, there in a professional capacity as his manager, but today he was by himself. He took a breath before he pushed on the heavy door, letting it swing open.

Already, the large space was a hive of activity, and a few people looked in his direction. One of them, wearing a headset - which Shane thought was a touch over the top for a brand photo shoot -  made a beeline for him, grinning as she stuck out her hand for a shake.

“Mr Hollander! Wow, it’s so great to meet you. You found us okay?”

“It’s Shane please, and yes, I found you just fine, thank you,” Shane replied, smiling politely, resisting the urge to wipe his now sweaty hand on his jeans because that would be rude. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Okay, well, we have everything set up for you, we’re super excited to have you working with us today. Would you like me to show you where you can get changed?”

Shane nodded. “That would be great, thanks so much.”

He followed the woman down the corridor and into a large dressing room.  He could see a suit hanging up and let out a small sigh of relief when she finally left the room, leaving him alone. He walked to lock the door and then pulled his phone from his pocket, hitting the screen to dial Ilya’s contact. 

“Ilya’s sex chat line, press 1 if you are horny.”

Shane burst into laughter, certain he was blushing. “Oh my god, you are such an asshole,” he chuckled, tugging his sweater over his head and folding it neatly. “I might have been around people, Ilya.”

“Well, you are not because we do not call in public,” Ilya said, and for some reason, the casual way he said that left a sour feeling in Shane’s belly. “You are at your shoot?”

“I am,” Shane replied, pulling on the crisp white shirt that had been left for him. He decided against putting the jacket on just yet since he was warm. “I really wish my Mom would stop signing me up for all of this. I don’t need the money-”

“Uh, you do, you are my sugar daddy, yes? I need rich boyfriend, Shane. I like cars and expensive vodka.”

“You literally bought yourself a new Porsche the other day,” Shane said with a roll of his eyes. “I think you’re just as rich as I am. Just less financially responsible.”

Ilya gasped on the other end, and Shane knew exactly what ridiculous expression Ilya would be making. “Is rude, my Shane. I do not remember you being sad when I buy you gifts.”

Shane shrugged even though Ilya couldn’t see him. “I like your gifts.”

“Especially gifts for bedroom?”

“Especially those,” Shane agreed with a smile, pulling off his pants. Again, he folded them before he reached for the ones they’d laid out for him. He picked them up and frowned. “Fuck.”

“You are hard?”

“Jesus, Ilya. No. Just… the clothes they’ve left me.”

“Too slutty?”

Again, Shane rolled his eyes, smiling at how ridiculous his boyfriend was. “Again, no. They're just… the pants are scratchy. I don’t like it.”

Shane didn’t have to explain himself any further to Ilya. He knew that Ilya would understand and that he’d empathise, even though he didn’t share the same issues as Shane did.

“Oh. I am sorry, moya lyubov. Can you wear something else?”

Shane’s face creased in discomfort as he pulled on the pants, the fabric already feeling uncomfortable against the bare skin of his legs. “I, uh, I’ll be fine. It’s only a few photos. I’m sure it won’t take too long.”

“They are Armani, yes? I will never buy this brand. I will make complaint to protect your honour.”

“I really don’t need you to do that, but I appreciate you for offering. You really can’t get to Montreal any sooner than Thursday?”

“Ah, I am sorry, solnyshko. Stupid people who book flights make a mess. We are stuck here for two days.”

Shane sighed, sitting down and pushing his feet into the smart shoes he’d been left by the Armani team. “Fuck. How was your game against San Francisco?”

“Good. You watch?”

“Well, yeah, but you know I like to hear how you think it went.”

Ilya chuckled down the line. “Was good. They are good, but not as good as us. But all I think on ice is how far I am from you. Is distraction, Hollander.”

Shane was sure Ilya was joking, but really, he felt the same. “Fuck. This never gets easier, does it? How has it been years of this and I still hate every minute of being apart from you?”

“Because I am joyous,” Ilya said, and Shane could hear Ilya’s beautiful smile down the line. “What is it Yuna said about me? Dog energy?”

“Puppy energy,” Shane laughed, tying the laces until they were the same tension. He was the same with his skates - he couldn’t bear it if one shoe was tighter than the other. He paused for a second, lowering his voice. “I miss you so much, Ilya.”

“I miss you too, my Shane. Soon we will have three days, yes? Just us.”

For some reason, at that moment, three days didn’t feel like anywhere near enough. There were times when Shane wanted to say fuck it to everything, to hell with the consequences and be with Ilya in the same way that Hayden got to be with Jackie, or like J.J. did with his girlfriend Gloria. It didn’t seem fair he had to hide his love from everyone, or hide how much he was loved in return. 

“Yeah, just you and me. When the season is done… I want us to spend the whole summer together again. Just us, at the Cottage, like last summer. That was... that was the best summer of my life. I want as much of you as I can get, Ilya. It’s never going to be enough but… I want to make the most of it.” He stopped talking as someone knocked at the door, asking if he was almost ready. “Uh, yes, I’ll be out in a minute, thank you. Sorry, Ilya. I’d better go. I’ll call you when I’m back at my hotel?”

“Okay, красивый.”

Shane knew he was blushing again. “Don’t call me beautiful when I’m about to go on set.”

“Is true. I love you, Shane.”

“Love you too. Speak later, okay? Bye, Ilya.” He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. He turned to the mirror and smoothed the shirt down over his body, pleased to see it was a good fit, but there was something irritating him. He knew it was the awful tag at the side seam of the shirt, the ones that Ilya usually took care of every time Shane bought new clothing, but for now, he’d have to put up with it.

The shoot was relatively straightforward. Shane had done enough of these ad campaigns to know the drill, and he was able to just focus on the task, staring down the lens of the camera when directed, or staring wistfully off into the distance on command. They always told him to think about something he was yearning for to give him the right expression, and of course, Ilya’s face was the only thing in his mind.

He startled as a cloud of cologne was sprayed around him, and he coughed slightly, having not expected it.

“Uh, wow, that’s a bit… much.”

The young intern spraying the fragrance frowned at his reaction. “Sorry, I was told to spray you for the next photos.”

“Okay but… it’s a photoshoot. The person looking at it can’t smell the fragrance?”

“They just told me to spray it,” she shrugged before she handed Shane the bottle to hold. “Sorry, man.”

Sorry man Shane mouthed as she walked away, a little in disbelief at what had just happened. The scent clung uncomfortably to the clothes he was wearing, and it wasn’t one Shane exactly liked. It was heavy and almost cloying, and he wasn’t aware he was wrinkling his nose at it until the photographer made a comment.

“Are you okay, Mr Hollander?”

He looked up, startled. “Sorry, uh, yes, I’m fine. Where do you want me?”

He posed for the next set of pictures, holding the offending bottle in his hands, in whatever manner he was told to do so. Ilya was better than him at all of this, but Shane tried his best to put a sultry expression on his face.

“You save that one for the ladies?” the photographer joked as Shane attempted to give the camera the look as directed.

“Uh, not really,” Shane replied, wishing he could reply ‘I save that one exclusively for my boyfriend to get him to take me to bed, actually’. Maybe one day he’d be able to. 

When they were done, Shane wasted no time in stripping himself out of the scratchy, uncomfortable clothes, moving them to the other end of the room before he went back into his bag. He’d brought one of Ilya’s tanks with him on this trip, one of the small selection of Ilya’s clothes that lived in Shane’s apartment now, and he pulled it on, immediately calming down as the soft fabric wrapped around his body.

Shane had worn it and washed it a few times, but somehow, the smell of Ilya still lingered in the fibres. He pulled it up to his nose and inhaled deeply, letting the scent calm him down. He quickly snapped a selfie to send to Ilya then pulled on his jacket, keen to get back to the hotel now. He thanked everyone on the set and headed out, deciding to walk the few miles back to the hotel. 

Vancouver was nice at this time of the year, and Shane hadn’t been able to go to the gym that morning so a brisk walk would have to suffice until he could get there later on. Ilya was busy in his own meetings now, so Shane was left with his own thoughts as he headed back. He was stopped a few times on the way back, pausing to take a few photos and sign jerseys, but he didn’t mind, especially when it was with younger fans. 

Instead of going out for food, Shane decided to order room service for dinner when he was back in his room that evening. He’d showered off the offensive fragrance several times, climbing back onto the bed in athletic shorts, not bothering with a shirt. He hadn’t heard from Ilya for a few hours now, so he decided to call Hayden. He knew his best friend was making the most of a few days off playing hockey to spend time with his kids, but he hoped he wouldn’t mind a quick call.

“Hey buddy,” Hayden said as a child screamed in the background. “Jesus, Amber, let her have the doll, you have your own!”

Shane just laughed, staying quiet until Hayden was done refereeing whatever trouble his daughters had got themselves into. Shane loves his goddaughters dearly, but they really could be hard work, and sometimes, he didn’t know how Hayden juggled everything.

“You good?”

“All good, Shane, sorry about that. How is Vancouver?”

“Great. I did the shoot earlier, I’m ready to come home, but Mom didn’t book my flight until tomorrow morning.”

“Believe me, man, if I could trade places with you right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Time with the kids sounds good until you’ve been woken up at 5am to be a human trampoline, and then been forced to attend a tea party for three hours with a bunch of terrifying teddy bears as the only other guests.”

“That sounds like Ilya’s idea of a perfect morning,” Shane replied with a laugh, meaning it entirely. Ilya absolutely adored Hayden’s children, even if Shane’s best friend wasn’t his favourite person. Truthfully, watching Ilya with children was one of Shane’s favourite things to do. “Actually, speaking of…”

“Oh god, do we have to?”

“Yeah, actually, we do. I need some advice.”

Hayden went silent for a moment. “Like… sex advice? Because I’m really not sure I can help there-”

“What the fuck, Hayd? No! Jesus. We have no problems in that department trust me-”

“Too much information.”

Shane arched an eyebrow. “Believe me, I could give you too much information. This is, uh, I haven’t talked about this to anyone else yet.”

“Oh? Not even your parents?”

“Not even them,” Shane confirmed, pulling gently at his eyelashes, something he did when he felt nervous. “And I just want to start by saying that I do not want you to try to talk me out of this. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and it’s what I want, so I’d appreciate it if you could be happy for me.”

“You’ve got me curious…”

Shane took a breath before he told Hayden what was on his mind. “I want to ask Ilya to marry me.” The silence on the other end was so deafening that Shane thought Hayden had hung up. “Hayden?”

“I’m here. Wow. Uh. Wow.”

Shane wasn’t entirely how to take that. “I know you don’t get it, me and Ilya, I mean. But I really-”

“Shane. Stop.” 

Shane stopped talking, swallowing as he waited for Hayden to say something more.

“I’m so fucking happy for you, man. Honestly.”

Shane let out a surprised burst of laughter. “What?”

“I said I’m so happy for you.”

“No, I heard you,” Shane laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just… I thought you were going to tell me that I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.”

Hayden was quiet for a few seconds. “Jesus. Is that what you really expected from me?”

“I mean… yeah? I know you don’t like Ilya, that you don’t understand our relationship.”

Hayden sighed. “Look. Have I given you shit about Ilya over the years? Absolutely.”

“Just a little,” Shane said, a small smile on his lips.

“But now? Now I’ve seen how happy he makes you, Shane. You laugh more. You actually answer your phone. You don't disappear for weeks because you're convinced you have to carry the whole world on your own. You let him take care of you.”

Shane had a sudden realisation that he thought he was about to cry. “Fuck. I didn’t realise I was that obvious.”

“Only to me, because I know you. And you let me see how you are around him. I don't have to understand every part of your relationship,” Hayden continued. “Hell, I probably never will. But I understand what he does for you.”

“I- I appreciate that a lot, Hayd. So you’ll help me?”

“Help you?”

“Yeah. Help me work out how to propose to him.”

“Dude, you have come to the wrong person. I fucking proposed to Jackie when she was throwing up and I was holding her hair back.”

Shane blinked, thinking he must have misheard. “You- what? What the fuck, Hayden?!”

“You think she lets me tell people about that one? Fuck, no. She made me do it again properly, flowers, candles, the works.”

“Wait a second, go back to proposing to her while she’s throwing up?”

Hayden sighed, and Shane knew he was regretting everything. “We were at a party. We both drank too much. But she got sick, and I was holding her hair back while she threw up. She was done and she thanked me and I just… I told her I could do it forever if she wanted.”

Shane pressed his lips together. “I mean, that’s gross but also kinda sweet?”

“You still think it’s sweet if I tell you she still had vomit on her face when I asked her?”

“Wow. Thanks for the visual. I’m not surprised Jackie doesn’t let you tell anyone that.”

“You can’t tell her, Shane. She’ll not have sex with me for months if she knows I told you that.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. But tell me you have a better idea for how I can propose to Ilya. Because I have no clue.”

“Do you think he’ll want something really romantic? Like the whole fairytale thing?”

Shane thought about it for a second. “I think so, but I also think he’d be happy if it was just us, maybe at the Cottage. I just… I want it to be special for him. He deserves to know how much I love him, and how much I want to marry him.” He felt a lump develop in his throat at the thought of how emotional Ilya would be. “I want to be his husband, Hayden. More than I’ve wanted anything else in my life.”

“More than wanting a Cup?”

Shane nodded slowly. “Yeah. Even more than that.”

Silence fell between the pair for a few seconds, and Shane just pictured Ilya’s face, how he’d react to Shane asking him to marry him. It felt perfect, and he couldn’t wait.

“I… I spent my life winning Cups,” Shane said thoughtfully, staring into the distance, out of the window of his hotel room. “I’ve won games, awards, Cups. But none of it, not one bit of it even comes close.”

“To what?”

“To how being with him makes me feel.”

“I’m pretty fucking sure he feels the same, dude. So come on. Just do it. However you think he’ll like it, just ask him. You know he’s going to say yes. Oh, and Shane?”

“Yeah?”

“I can't wait to call him my best friend's husband.”

Shane’s eyes welled with tears again. “Fuck you, man,” he laughed, wondering how this phone call had turned so emotional. “You make me cry again and I’m going to tell Jackie you told me the puke story.”

“I won’t be your best man if you tell her!”

“Who said you’re my best man?”

“Oh please, who else? Now come on, I want to hear all about the ring…”

A few hours later, Shane had finally gotten off the phone to Hayden, and had called Ilya. The two were on Facetime and Shane’s face was smushed against his pillow, not tired but wanting to be comfortable while he talked to his boyfriend. 

“It sucks we're on the same coast and still so far apart,” Shane admitted with a heavy feeling, watching as Ilya shaved, his phone propped up against the sink unit as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. “You know, I genuinely can’t decide if I like you clean shaven or with stubble more.”

“You like stubble,” Ilya shrugged, splashing his face with water. “You like burn between your thighs.”

“Fuck, Ilya,” Shane muttered, not bothering to deny it since he knew he was right.

“Am I wrong?” Ilya asked, pulling on a tight, black shirt, leaving the first three buttons undone. 

“Well, no. You look too fucking good. I’m not sure you should be going out like that.”

“Lucky for you, my heart belongs to hockey player with pretty freckles and a weak backhand, hmm?”

Shane just rolled his eyes at Ilya’s jab. “Lucky me, indeed. I’ll let you know when I’m at the airport in the morning. My flight is at six, so you won’t be awake, but I’ll text you.”

“Okay, moya lyubov. I will only be one day behind you, yes? We will make sure we have best three days in Montreal.” Ilya glanced at the chunky watch on his wrist, a gift from Shane for their anniversary. “Blyat. I am late. See you soon, okay?”

“I love you, Ilya,” Shane said, and the emotion in Shane’s voice caused Ilya to pause for a moment, looking intently at him through the phone.

“You are okay, Shane?”

“Yeah. Just… really excited to see you. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I miss you so much.”

Ilya muttered something quietly in Russian that Shane couldn’t quite catch, but then he switched to English. “I miss you too. I will think of you whole night I am out.”

“You better do.”

“Я тебя люблю.”

“I love you too. Goodnight, Ilya.”

Ilya gave him a wink, blew a kiss at the screen and then he was gone. Shane sighed, rolling onto his back, laying his phone on the bed next to him. Two more days then he had Ilya all to himself for three whole days. 

Right now, Shane wasn’t sure how life could get better. He had a future he couldn’t wait to live with the man he loved by his side. He was going to ask Ilya to marry him, they'd find the right way to come out, on their own terms, and then they'd finally get to build the life they'd been dreaming about.

Chapter 2: This is our fate, I'm yours...

Chapter Summary

Early flights

Surprise?

Home, together.

Shane hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, finally approaching the check in desk. The whole trip to Vancouver had been too long and overstimulating, and right now, he just wanted to get home to Montreal. The woman in a smart uniform sitting behind the desk looked stressed but she still managed to give Shane a smile as he walked up, resting his arms on the desk.

“Hi, I’m here to check in.”

“Certainly, Mr Hollander.” Given that they were in Vancouver, he wasn’t surprised that he was recognised. It was a city where hockey was one of the main sports, and given he was the Captain of the current leading team of MLH, it wasn’t a surprise that he was a familiar face. He tugged his baseball cap lower, hoping the rest of the passengers and staff at the airport weren’t paying him too much attention. “Your passport, please.”

Shane slid his Canadian passport across the desk and lifted up his case onto the belt. All of this was muscle memory by now. He spent so much of his life on flights for his sport, and airports were second nature to him. Usually, he was with the rest of the Montreal Metros, but occasionally, he had obligations to fulfill with his sponsors that left him travelling alone like he was today. As much as Shane disliked travel, there was something nice about doing it solo. He had no one to answer to. No one expected him to trail around the airport, or sit and have conversations with him. He could just sit and read his book, or complete his sudoku.

“I’m afraid your flight has been cancelled, and you’ve been put onto another commercial flight leaving in three hours.”

“Damn. May I ask why?”

“The incoming flight was delayed, and the decision was made to pull your flight, sir. Given your status with our airline, we have ensured to put you onto the soonest flight but I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It’s fine, thank you for sorting it out.”

He listened to the last few instructions before he thanked the staff, tucking his passport back into its pouch and then placed that into his rucksack before he walked away, tutting as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

Mom and Dad

Shane: My flight was cancelled.
Shane: I'm on one leaving at 9am.
Mom
Mom: Oh honey, I’m sorry.
Mom: I know you want to get home.
Shane: Just one of those things.
Shane: I’ll be fine. I’ll sit and read.
Dad
Dad: I’ll still be there to pick you up.
Dad: Text me the new flight info?
Shane: Sure. Thanks, Dad.

Shane headed through the security checks and then through to departures. He found an airport book store and pulled his headphones over his ears as he wandered around, browsing for something to catch his attention. He didn’t usually go for the bigger, best-selling novels, and lingered in the history section, finally selecting a title that looked interesting. Of course it was a sports book, but Shane liked what he liked. He paid for it and headed out to find a seat. The airport was busy, people milling around and it was loud. That was why Shane always travelled with his headphones - they were a good tool to stop people approaching him when he wasn’t feeling sociable, and it helped muffle the noise.

It was something he hadn’t realised he’d needed until he had them. Of course it had been Ilya who’d bought them for Shane after a tricky few months travelling with the Metros. He’d had a meltdown arriving in Boston for a long weekend together, overstimulated from the airport and the flight, almost catatonic by the time he’d let himself into Ilya’s home, sinking to the floor with his hands over his ears.

To be seen in such a way by Ilya was a wonderful thing. His boyfriend was the kindest, most gentle person despite his public persona, and Shane loved him for how well he took care of him. It wasn’t patronising, or overbearing, it was just small acts of love, gestures that told Shane that Ilya saw him in a way nobody had ever bothered to before. It was making sure Shane’s laundry was folded when he took it out of the dryer, it was keeping the lamps dimmed low in the evening, it was keeping Shane’s food in his fridge so that he always had something to eat that wouldn’t force him to break his performance diet.

He was excited to see Ilya the following day. It had been almost three weeks since they’d last seen each other, and it seemed to get harder and harder to be apart, especially since they’d spent the summer at the Cottage and confessed the depth of their feelings. It had been the best two weeks of Shane’s life, and now all he wanted was to spend every spare minute he had with Ilya. They had plans to make that a reality, but it wasn’t going to be something that could happen overnight, not with their careers.

Shane’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he smiled, looking down at the notification even though he hadn’t expected Ilya to be awake yet after going out the night before. It seemed to happen more and more lately, that Ilya would text him whenever Shane was thinking about him, and vice versa. They were in tune in a way Shane had never experienced before, and he loved it.

Their texts proceeded to get a little more filthy, then turned into pining, leaving Shane with an ache he knew he wouldn’t shake until he was back in Ilya’s arms. He didn’t bother to tell his boyfriend about the change in flight, since Ilya’s flight wasn’t due to leave until the following morning anyway, and he didn’t want Ilya worrying unnecessarily about him. He found a relatively quiet corner and sat down, keeping his cap and headphones on as he opened the book he’d just bought.

Shane made sure that he sat in a place where he had a view of the information boards, glancing up every now and then to check for a gate for his new flight. People came and went around him, mostly too focused on themselves and their travel plans to pay him much attention, especially when he was making it as obvious as he could that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Shane was usually happy to pay fan service, but not today. Some days were just harder than others.

It was almost two hours later that finally, the board updated and Shane saw his flight had been designated a new gate. Unfortunately, it was one at the other end of the airport, so he quickly tucked his book back into his bag and lifted it onto his shoulder before he moved into the swell of the crowd all heading in the same direction. He hung back a little when he saw a group of men wearing his jersey, which of course was always great to see, but he didn’t want them to spot him and insist on photos and autographs.

They all moved along together and then came to a set of steps, which slowed everybody down. A family were next to him, and he watched the mother struggling to wrangle two toddlers, while the father pushed a stroller, a tiny newborn asleep in a bassinet attachment. He pulled his headphones off as they reached the top step, and he paused, quickly offering his help.

“Want me to grab the front?”

“That would be great, man, thank you so much,” the man replied, and Shane took the weight of the front of the stroller, carefully stepping backwards, very aware of the precious cargo inside. He let it down gently when they reached ground level, and the family thanked him before Shane sped up a little, determined to make the gate as quickly as he could. He preferred to get a seat as close to the gate itself as he could, a habit he was unable to break even after the years of travel he had under his belt, and he didn’t relax until he sank into the chair, looking through the floor-to-ceiling windows, planes on the ground, ready to board.

Thanks to the rescheduled flight, Shane was in economy which wasn’t ideal, not with his long legs. The flight was going to be just over five hours, so Shane would just have to put up with it for that short amount of time. Maybe he’d be able to get some sleep so he wasn’t focused on how cramped he was going to be. He sat with his arms folded across his chest as the first and business class passengers were called to board, and he felt his own leg jiggling, eager to board and get home.

His phone buzzed, and he grabbed it, unable to ignore a notification, especially when he saw who it was from.

Shane frowned and did as the text asked, and his jaw dropped at what he saw.

It was Ilya. He was there at the gate, looking ridiculously beautiful and hot at the same time in a black, backwards baseball cap, a black tank and what looked like Shane’s UnderArmor pants. He winked and then looked back at his phone, and Shane just stared at his screen as the typing bubble appeared.

It was torture knowing Ilya was a few metres away from him, and that he couldn’t approach or go near him. To the world, they were still rival team captains, two men who had been pitted against each other since they were teenagers, through the draft and their first few years in the League. Public attention had never been fiercer, and they were well aware their every move was watched, analysed and dissected online.

If Shane was honest, he couldn’t believe nobody had been able to see the truth. He felt like every time he looked at Ilya on the ice, he was practically sending lovehearts from his eyes, like his love was so obvious that he couldn’t contain it. Ilya wasn’t any better. The small smiles and looks they shared as they faced off always felt more than just two players to Shane, but apparently, the idea of Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander being anything more than rivals was too ludicrous to consider. At least it helped their relationship stay hidden.

Shane glanced up and locked eyes with Ilya for a second, both of them smirking at each other. The loud speaker pinged, and Shane listened for the next announcement, hoping he would be able to board.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now inviting passengers seated in rows five through fifteen to board. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready as you make your way to the gate. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”

He looked up and saw Ilya stand up, tugging the black leather rucksack Shane had given him for Christmas onto his shoulder before he started to make his way over to join the queue of passengers waiting to board. Instead of taking the shorter route, Ilya went the long way around which meant he had to walk directly past Shane to get to the desk. He joined the back of the line, and Shane held his breath as his boyfriend shuffled closer as the line moved along.

Being in Ilya’s orbit was something Shane loved, and he smiled to himself as Ilya stopped just in front of him. He was holding his passport in his left hand, the friendship bracelet Jade and Ruby Pike had given him a few weeks ago still wrapped around his left wrist. The little beads spelled out Uncle Ilya, and Shane had a feeling he’d wear it until the elastic gave out. 

They couldn’t share any words, not like this, not with so many people around. But Ilya let out a dramatic sigh, looking to his right and then his gaze lingered to his left, his eyes dipping to Shane’s for the briefest second. He gave him a slight wink that anyone would’ve had to be looking really carefully to see, and Shane pressed his lips together, trying to bite back a smile. Eventually, Ilya moved past him, and Shane continued to stare at the back of his boyfriend, at the curve of his ass in Shane’s pants, at the waist Ilya worked hard to keep in shape.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now inviting passengers seated in rows 16 through 30 to board. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready as you make your way to the gate. Thank you for your continued patience, and we look forward to welcoming you on board.”

This time, Shane stood up quickly, grabbing his own bag. He allowed an older couple to step in front of him and waited patiently behind them, gripping his own passport. He approached the desk and handed it over, scanning the boarding pass on his phone before finally heading onto the air bridge. He smiled at the flight attendants welcoming them on board and turned right, slowly shuffling down the narrow aisle.

He felt his heart start to race as he walked along, getting closer to Ilya. Everyone around them was talking loudly, concentrating on their own business and Shane could see Ilya was already in his seat, just staring ahead while people around him sorted themselves out. Shane decided to be bold, and as he walked past Ilya, he allowed his fingers to graze against Ilya’s arm, where it was resting on the arm rest. 

Ilya cleared his throat just as Shane touched him, and they looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before Shane forced himself to look away, carrying on down the aisle towards his own seat. He helped the older couple in front of him lift their carry-on bags into the overhead bins before deciding to put his own under the seat in front of him. He sat down, grateful that the sweet older couple next to him seemed to pay him no attention at all.

He pulled out his phone and texted Ilya.

The final rows boarded, and Shane listened intently to the safety demonstration. He’d seen it hundreds of times in his life by now, but it was something he always paid attention to. He hated when people sat with their earphones in, listening to music rather than taking in information that could maybe save their lives. It was irresponsible, but Shane knew he could only worry about his own actions. He made sure to read the safety card tucked into the pocket of the seat in front of him, and then finally, it was time for take off.

He put his phone into airplane mode and then made sure his seatbelt was in place. He was in an aisle seat, and he leaned out slightly, wondering if he could see Ilya. He looked for a few seconds, then a leg kicked out into the aisle, and Shane would know those garish luminous yellow Nike trainers anywhere. He smiled to himself and then sat back in his seat as the plane thundered down the runway, gaining momentum until it was time to lift off the ground.

They were on their way home. Together.

Chapter 3: You're here with me now, we'll make it through...

Chapter Summary

Recognition

Turbulence

Something's wrong...

Chapter Notes

Take off was smooth, and Shane let out a sigh as the plane levelled out. The chatter around him was loud but not horribly so, and Shane was able to relax a little now they were in the air. He could see out of the window to his left that they were well above Vancouver by now. There was always something a little magical about the world from this distance, like it was a privilege to be able to witness it like this. Night flights were Shane’s favourites. He loved to see the world lit up from above, how cities glowed, how the stars in the sky shimmered against the inky black of the night sky. But daytime was beautiful too, in its own way.

A familiar ping rang around the cabin, and Shane heard the collective sound of people releasing their seatbelts now they’d been given permission to do so. He never really understood the desperation to take it off, especially when it wasn’t like they could go anywhere. They were literally trapped in a flying metal tube, something Shane didn’t like to think about too closely because the idea of it freaked him out, even with almost eight years of solid air travel under his belt.

Usually, Shane was able to relax on a flight, especially when he took a flight by himself. He could read, make plans for the next practise with the Metros, come up with some new ideas to take back to Coach Theriault. Hockey was always a great distraction, Shane’s favourite thing to play and think about in the world, but today, even hockey wasn’t cutting it. He was far too aware of his boyfriend just ten rows ahead of him, and Shane’s body practically thrummed with a need to be near him.

“Excuse me, dear, I just need to get to the washroom,” came a voice to Shane’s left, and he smiled, quickly unclipping his seatbelt, getting up and stepping into the aisle. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re more than welcome,” he said as the woman headed towards the back of the plane, joining the short queue that had already formed for the bathroom. Shane preferred not to use airplane bathrooms unless he absolutely had to - they always had a funny smell, and the level of cleanliness was not as Shane’s levels of acceptable cleanliness, so the fact Ilya was always talking about having sex in one of them did freak him out a little bit. The only way he’d ever consider it would be on a private flight. And even then, it would have to be really clean.

“I’m so sorry to trouble you-”

Shane blinked and looked down, seeing the woman’s husband smiling up at him. “Not at all, can I help you?”

“Would you mind reaching my bag down? I shouldn’t have put it up there, Edna will want to do the crossword when she gets back-”

“Sure.” Shane reached up easily, unclipping the door of the overhead bin. “Is it the brown one, or the green one?”

“The brown one, thank you, young man.”

Shane grasped the handle and pulled it down carefully, lowering it into the man’s waiting arms. He thanked Shane profusely, apologising again for bothering him.

“Honestly, it’s not a bother at all. Are you and your wife heading home, or away on vacation?”

“We are going to visit our granddaughter. She and her husband just had a baby last week. We don’t travel much at our age, but that’s a good reason to, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” Shane agreed with a smile. “Congratulations, that’s lovely news.”

“Tara, her name is. Look at her, isn’t she beautiful?” The man turned his phone screen around, showing Shane a picture of a sleeping baby. If he was honest, the baby looked like any other sleeping newborn he’d ever seen, but he smiled and nodded politely. “Our first granddaughter. We have three grandsons, so I feel this one is a little special.”

“I’m sure. She’s beautiful.”

“You must think me so rude, chattering away about myself. Are you heading out on vacation?”

It appeared that the man had no idea who Shane was, and he was grateful for that. He smiled and shook his head. “Uh, no. I’ve been on a work trip so I’m heading home.”

The man chuckled to himself. “Oh, you young people, always jetting off here, there and everywhere for work. By the time I was your age, I was married and we had one on the way!” Shane resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Do you have a special someone at home waiting for you?”

Usually, Shane would find a way to not answer the question, but knowing Ilya was just a few rows away was making him feel bold. It also helped that the man clearly had no idea that he was Shane Hollander, so he decided to be brave.

“Uh, yes. I have a partner waiting for me. We’re going to spend a few days together before we have to get back to work.”

“Well, that’s lovely. Make the most of that time together, young man, it’s so precious-”

“Sorry, I promise I won’t get up again,” the man’s wife said as she returned from the bathroom, smiling as she walked past Shane and into her seat. “I hope Malcolm hasn’t been bothering you.”

“Not at all, we were just having a chat. I think he’s ready to do the crossword with you,” Shane said with a smile, and he watched as the man, Malcolm, took his wife’s hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently, like it was something he’d done every day since he’d fallen in love with her.

Shane wondered for a moment if he and Ilya would be like that when they were into their older years. Would they be out and happy to be affectionate in public like that? He knew that if they were, Ilya would be the sort of husband that always held Shane’s hand, always made him feel loved and appreciated, no matter where they were. He was like that now, only behind closed doors, and secretly, Shane longed for the days when they didn’t have to hide, when they could tell the world how much they meant to each other, how deeply in love they were.

With Ilya in his mind, Shane turned right and headed down the aisle on the pretence of stretching his legs. He was still wearing his baseball cap, but everyone seemed too busy with whatever they were doing to pay attention to people walking up and down the plane. He looked up at the rows, counting them down. 19, 18, 17, 16… he could see Ilya more clearly now, and as he approached him from behind, he reached across, tracing his fingertips across the back of Ilya’s neck. Ilya’s head snapped across but the way his face melted when he saw it was Shane made him want to grab Ilya and kiss him hard, to claim him as his own.

There was a woman sound asleep next to Ilya, her arms folded across her chest, and the people across the aisle from Ilya were apparently absorbed in whatever they were watching on an ipad so Shane figured it would be okay to chat to his boyfriend for a few minutes.

“Hey,” he muttered quietly, keeping their conversation quiet, only for them. “You doing okay?”

“Am okay. Just want to get home,” Ilya said, and Shane let his hand linger by the arm rest of Ilya’s chair, their fingers brushing ever so slightly. “You are good? Is not too much?”

Shane appreciated the way Ilya always gently checked in with him like this. Ilya knew that sometimes, Shane struggled on flights, especially if there were loud groups of people, or crying babies seated near him. He didn’t mean to react badly, it was just often sensory overload and there were only so many ways he could cope on a plane in public. But thankfully, this flight seemed to be relatively calm so far.

“I’m good. I just wish I wasn’t so far away from you.”

Ilya spoke his next words softly and in Russian. Shane concentrated, translating them in his head.

“Скоро мы будем в постели — так близки, как только могут быть двое. Я наверстаю всё то время, что мы провели в разлуке, любимый.”

Soon we’ll be in our bed, and we’ll be as close as two people can possibly be. I’ll make up for all the time we spent apart, my love.

Shane blinked then nodded, trying not to picture what Ilya had just said. He didn’t want to get hard on a plane full of strangers. He especially didn’t want Ilya to think he was considering having sex with him in a public bathroom.

“Жду не дождусь,” Shane returned carefully, always a little conscious about his spoken Russian, but Ilya was always so encouraging, loving that Shane was making the effort to learn his language. II can’t wait.

“What did you tell Marleau?” Shane asked a few seconds later as he stepped almost into Ilya’s lap to make way for a mother carrying her toddler in a hurry down the aisle towards the bathroom. “Shit, sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Ilya laughed, brushing his fingers up against Shane’s thigh before he stepped back, putting a little distance between them. “I said I had business meeting. Boring sponsor thing. He is seeing his girlfriend so he will be busy.”

“Sounds like he’s getting serious,” Shane said, and Ilya just shrugged, smiling slightly. “Who’d have thought it, hmm? You and Marleau, both settling down. Hearts are breaking all over Boston.”

“I have been settled for long time, Shane.”

Shane just nodded, wishing he could reach and grab Ilya’s hand, that he could hold it tightly and never let go. “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

The plane suddenly shuddered and everything rattled for a moment. Shane grabbed the headrest of Ilya’s chair, but Ilya had reached for him automatically, holding his waist until the rattling stopped.

“Fuck. Doesn’t matter how much turbulence I go through, I never get used to it,” Shane said, getting his balance and glancing around the cabin. There were a few worried faces, but for the most part, everyone looked nonplussed about it, carrying on with whatever they were doing before. “I remember the first time we went on holiday when I was young, there was bad turbulence and I hated it. My Dad sat me down and gave me an entire lesson on what it was and why it happened.”

“Very David,” Ilya commented with a smile. “Is nice he wanted you to understand.”

“I think it made it less scary because I understood the science behind it,” Shane said, letting his fingers dangle and brush against Ilya’s again, seeking out his touch almost subconsciously. “Right, I’ve been here a while, I should get back to my seat.”

“Okay, Hollander. Bye bye,” Ilya said with a grin, and Shane quickly turned and walked away before he could do something stupid like lean down and kiss his boyfriend squarely on the lips.

He sat back down in his seat and took his book from his bag again, opening it without cracking the spine. He hated when people cracked the spines of books. It made them look scruffy and used in a way that Shane couldn’t bear, and he prided himself on the fact he’d never ruined a book yet.

He was soon lost in the words on the page, absorbed by the writing of the story. The couple next to him were completing their crossword book together, and their voices were quiet enough that they weren’t disturbing Shane, which he appreciated more than he could say. There was another thud and a rattle as the plane hit another burst of turbulence, and Shane glanced to his left, seeing the couple grab each other.

“You both okay? It’s just turbulence, we’ll be fine,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. He wasn’t sure how much they understood about it, but he felt a little certain that they wouldn’t want a Science lesson.

“We’re good. I’m just… a nervous flyer,” the woman said, and Shane watched her husband stroke her hair to calm her down. It reminded him of how Ilya ran his fingers through Shane’s hair when he was struggling or starting to spiral. Usually, Shane couldn’t bear to be touched when he was in those moments, but Ilya managed to break through those walls Shane had built over the years, helping ground him physically in ways Shane had always felt certain he would never want to accept.

“Only two hours until we land,” Shane said kindly, tucking the receipt he was using as a bookmark between the pages. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”

“I’m fine, but you’re so kind.”

Shane’s phone buzzed, logged into the plane’s wifi. He always paid to access the service on board, paying a yearly fee since he flew so much and needed to be in touch with various people but most importantly, Ilya, his Coach, team and his Mom. He shifted to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone and dimming the screen before he unlocked it, reading the notifications.

Shane went back to his book until he felt a presence standing next to him, looming over him. He smiled, realising who it was, but he refused to give in and look up, to give Ilya what he wanted. That lasted until Ilya hit the brim of his baseball cap, startling him.

“Hey!”

“Oh, so you do know I am here.”

“I always know you’re there,” Shane replied, and he finally put the book on his lap, adjusting himself so he could look up at Ilya. “Why are you out of your seat?”

“Bathroom. Wanna join? We could join a club.”

“Я не занимаюсь сексом в ванной,” Shane said quietly in Russian, ignoring how Ilya rolled his eyes at his words. I don’t have sex in the bathroom.

“Boring. Fine, I will wait-”

There was a loud noise and the plane rattled again, but it was more violent this time. Ilya tried to steady himself but a second sharp shake of the plane sent him toppling forward into Shane, smashing his head on the armrest between Shane and the woman next to him.

“Ебать!” Fuck!

“Shit, Ilya, oh my god-” Shane said as he helped Ilya to stand. He could see a cut on Ilya’s head that was already bleeding. “Oh god, you’re bleeding, shit-”

“Here, dear,” the woman next to Shane said, shoving a crumpled tissue at him. “It’s clean, was just up my sleeve in case.”

Shane took it gratefully and pressed it to the cut on Ilya’s forehead. “Let me get to your seat, I’ll get a first aid kit.”

As they headed up the aisle, Shane holding the tissue to Ilya’s head and keeping him upright, there was a bong and the seatbelt sign lit up. Usually, Shane wouldn’t ignore it but all he cared about was Ilya and making sure he was okay.

“Excuse me, do you have a first aid kit? My friend fell and hit his head, he’s bleeding.”

“We do, but please go back to your seat-”

“I will when I’ve sorted him out. Please just get me the first aid kit.”

The flight attendant hesitated before she looked around, realising that she needed to help other crying passengers, to start closing up the overhead bins that had popped open. “Fine, but be fast.”

She disappeared and returned moments later with a green box. Shane took it and knelt down next to Ilya, carefully lifting off the tissue to see Ilya’s injury. They were hockey players and used to bumps, bruises and scrapes, and in Shane’s professional judgment, it didn’t look too terrible. It had already stopped actively bleeding but Shane lifted up the tissue again.

“Hold that there, I’ll get something to clean it and a band-aid.”

“It hurts,” Ilya said, and Shane just nodded, rummaging in the first aid kit until he found an antiseptic wipe and a band aid. “I do not want stupid band aid.”

“You don’t get a choice,” Shane said, ripping open the wipe. “Put the tissue down.” He took Ilya’s chin in his hand, tilting his face until he could see the cut clearly, looking carefully to make sure it wasn’t too deep. “It doesn’t need stitches.” He dabbed with the wipe, clearing up the blood before he cleared up the cut itself. It wasn’t too big, and would heal without a scar. He let the skin dry before he put on the band-aid, keeping his touch gentle. “There. All done.”

“Still beautiful?”

“Still beautiful,” Shane confirmed, taking the tissue from Ilya’s hand and letting his touch linger for a moment. “You want some Tylenol? I think I have some in my bag.”

“No, is fine. I feel stupid.”

“Don’t, it was an accident. We didn’t expect that-”

There was another loud rumble, and Shane cursed, grabbing the armrest of Ilya’s seat.

“Sir, I’m going to have to insist you go and sit back down,” the flight attendant said, and Shane just got to his feet when there was a bang and the lights flashed before they all went out. People started screaming, and Shane swallowed, eyes frantically sweeping around the cabin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We've encountered an area of unexpected turbulence. I know the aircraft may be moving quite a bit, but I want to assure you that this is a situation our crew is trained to handle, and the aircraft is designed to safely withstand these conditions. At this time, we need everyone to remain calm and return to your seats immediately if you are not already seated.”

There was a crackle before the announcement continued. “Please fasten your seat belt securely and keep it fastened. If you are traveling with children, ensure they are safely secured as well. Our cabin crew will take their seats until the turbulence subsides, so please do not attempt to move about the cabin or use the lavatories at this time. Based on the information we have, we expect this area of turbulence to pass shortly. We'll continue to monitor the conditions and keep you informed as the situation develops. Thank you.”

“I should go sit back down,” Shane said, and Ilya nodded, grabbing Shane’s hand for a moment before he turned, handing the first aid kit back to the attendant before he went back to his seat. Shane didn’t want to leave Ilya, but he knew it wasn’t safe to be on his feet right now. He sat down and clipped his seatbelt back over his lap, gripping the armrests as he faced forwards.

The next jolt came quicker than they expected. It was a violent lurch that made Shane’s stomach swoop uncomfortably, and again, a few of the overhead bins burst open, a couple of bags tumbling down into the aisle, thankfully missing passengers.

“You okay?” Shane asked, quickly looking at the couple next to him. The woman was crying, and Shane wished he could do something to help. “Keep your seatbelt fastened, you’ll be okay.”

There was calm for a few minutes, and it felt like everything had settled a little. Shane could see the flight attendants strapped into their jump seats, seatbelts over their shoulders holding them in place while Shane had to rely on a flimsy bit of material across his lap. As the shaking of the plane subsided Shane realized he was feeling calmer now, his heart rate steadying. He leaned forward to try and look for Ilya, but it was too chaotic, too noisy to focus. The cabin crew were up again, tending to nervous passengers, trying to calm those who were becoming hysterical.

It happened too fast. The plane dipped fast, the engines roaring as they worked to try and keep the plane steady. The lights were still off and the cabin had an eerie glow, like something was wrong. All of a sudden, there were a series of loud pops and oxygen masks abruptly dropped from the ceiling above people’s heads, and the cabin descended into chaos, people shouting and crying out in fear.

Shane’s blood ran cold. This wasn’t just turbulence anymore. They were in serious trouble. Something had gone catastrophically wrong.

The plane lurched again.

They were going down.

Chapter End Notes

Oops?

More soon...

Chapter 4: Holding you, I held everything...

Chapter Summary

Brace, brace, brace!

Not Alone.

Chapter Notes

A short one. This was hard to write.

But their love is just... everything. I wish I could be loved like they love each other.

Trauma dump away in the comments... 💔💔

“Cabin crew, take your seats immediately,” came the Captain’s voice over the tannoy, and Shane knew then that something bad was happening. Shane caught the eye of a passenger to his right, and the man looked as panicked as Shane felt. They were all united in their feelings, and Shane wished he could be with Ilya, that he could be holding his hand.

Everything had gone very quiet around them, like everyone knew the seriousness of what was happening. People who before had been laughing and joking were now sitting quietly, staring around them, fear clear in their eyes. Shane could see a mother across the aisle from him crying quietly as she held her sleeping toddler against her chest, and he gripped the arm rests of his chair tighter, realising it wasn’t just him who had something to lose here.

The plane jerked sideways, and the overhead bins that hadn’t yet burst open rattled ominous, and Shane glanced up, hoping they weren’t going to spill their contents as well.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered a voice loudly, and a baby started to cry, breaking the otherwise stoney silence of the aircraft.

Shane knew his own breathing had changed now, that he was anticipating the worst. He’d been on hundreds, if not thousands of flights by now. He’d been flying across Canada for hockey since he was twelve years old, and with the MLH since he was drafted at eighteen. Multiple flights in a week, then for sponsors, meetings, engagements in between. He’d experienced turbulence before. But nothing was like this.

He leaned out into the aisle to try and check on Ilya but he couldn’t see anything. Ilya was like him - a confident flyer, used to air travel, but he didn’t know how his boyfriend was going to react to this. Shane wanted to be able to get up, to go and check on him but he knew he couldn’t do that. There were rules. He had to follow them.

He reached for his phone, deciding he could do that much right now if he couldn’t actually be with Ilya.

Again, Shane leaned into the aisle, and what he saw in Ilya’s face when he turned around made his heart drop. Ilya looked terrified. The look in his eyes broke Shane’s heart, but all he could do was stare at him, trying to tell him with just his eyes that he was okay, that he was there with him. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Suddenly, the aircraft started to bank sharply to the right. Shane’s body went with it, but more bags were tumbling from above, some of them landing on unsuspecting passengers. Books, laptops and iPads were sliding off laps and tray tables, landing on the floor with loud clunks as people cried and screamed around them. The entire plane was rattling violently, and it was a sound like Shane had never heard. It was terrifying.

The voice of the captain cut through the noise of the cabin, and everyone fell silent, hanging off their every word.

“Attention everyone. Oxygen masks have been deployed. Put on your own mask immediately before assisting others. Remain seated with your seatbelt fastened.”

The yellow cups of the oxygen masks were swinging wildly above their heads now, and the panic in the cabin was apparent as people scrambled to comply with the order. Shane reached up and grabbed his own mask before he helped the woman next to him put hers on, helping her stretch the elastic over her head, settling it underneath her bun. She took his hand, and Shane held it tightly in return, not letting go.

The woman next to him spoke, her voice wobbly and Shane leaned closer to hear her. “Sorry, I’m just… this is frightening.”

“Don’t apologise. It’s fine. It’s nice to have someone’s hand to hold,” Shane admitted, even though the hand he’d rather be holding was just ten rows ahead of him. “We’re going to be okay.”

Shane wasn’t sure he believed it but he had to say something. He could hear someone nearby muttering a prayer, children starting to cry loudly in fear of what was happening. Adults were openly weeping, desperately trying to get a signal on their phones to contact their loved ones in case the worst happened. Shane couldn’t think about it. He looked out of the window, seeing smoke coming from what he thought was the engine, and he screwed his eyes tight before they snapped back open. He used his free hand to grab his phone, quickly texting Ilya.

Shane leaned out and froze as he saw Ilya looking back at him, his face pale in a way Shane had never seen before, even with the yellow mask hiding most of his face. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and Shane couldn’t bear it. Ilya was brave and he was strong, but right now, he looked like a lost little boy, looking for someone to love him and reassure him that he was going to be okay.

They’d spent years hiding themselves from the world. They’d wasted years hiding, pretending they didn’t mean anything to each other when it couldn’t be further from the truth. They didn’t touch in public… hell, they barely even looked at each other unless it was across the centre circle with a puck between them. Now… now that all seemed so ridiculous. All Shane wanted to do was to go and hold Ilya, but he couldn’t. He was stuck in his seat, powerless.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I need your full attention. We have experienced critical engine failure and we are being forced to make an emergency landing. Please listen carefully to instructions from the cabin crew.”

The plane swooped down again, and it was that which hammered home to Shane that this was really happening. They were going down. Ilya was just a few feet ahead of him but he might as well be in another state for all the support Shane could offer. The plane was shaking, jerking as the captains fought to control the failing aircraft. The elastic of the mask was digging uncomfortably into Shane’s cheeks, and the woman next to him was clinging on so tightly it hurt but none of that mattered.

“Brace position! Brace, brace, brace!” a flight attendant yelled, and Shane looked around, watching as people did so, everyone openly crying in fear by now.

His phone buzzed, and Shane’s hand shook as he unlocked it, getting his passcode wrong twice before finally, he managed it. He let out a sob as he read Ilya’s words, his phone held between his knees.

“Fuck,” Shane said, openly crying now. He knew he didn’t care about himself. All that mattered was Ilya, the love of his life, who was falling apart just a few rows in front of him. Shane didn’t think at all as he ripped off his mask and tore off his seatbelt.

“What are you doing?” the woman next to him asked as Shane moved to stand up, steadying himself as the floor beneath him continued to move. “You can’t move-”

“I’m sorry, I'm so sorry, I can’t leave him-” he mumbled as he slid out from his seat, ignoring the stares of shock from people seated around him. He stood up fully and stumbled into the aisle, using the head rests of the seats to cling to as he struggled to walk on the moving aircraft, using all of his muscles to steady himself.

“Ilya, fuck, I’m here,” he said as he finally reached Ilya’s side. He took Ilya’s hand as Ilya sobbed and just grabbed Shane, pulling him tightly against his body. “You’re not alone, baby. You’re not alone, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

The plane shook violently again and Shane was thrown forward, barely able to stay on his feet, clinging onto Ilya’s body to steady himself. He could hear people yelling all around him but he couldn’t focus on that. It was beginning to feel dangerous, like there was no way they were going to survive this. He looked down at Ilya, their eyes locking, and Shane just wanted to take all of his pain away, to not put Ilya through any of this.

Ilya's face was white, his breathing ragged behind the oxygen mask, tears spilling down his cheeks in a way Shane had never seen before. He looked terrified, more terrified than Shane had ever seen him, and the sight damn near broke Shane’s heart.

"You’re not alone, baby," Shane whispered, wrapping both arms around him as tightly as he could, squashed almost uncomfortably into the small space of Ilya’s seat. "You're not alone. I'm here. I've got you. I've got you."

“Sir, get back to your seat!”

Shane ignored the yelling as Ilya's hands shook so badly as he fumbled with his oxygen mask before ripping it away entirely, letting it dangle uselessly against his chest. Shane took Ilya’s face between his hands. “I’ll stay with you, okay? Whatever happens, we’re together. I love you so much.” No one was watching anymore, and if there were, no one cared so Shane leaned in, pressing their lips together in a bruising kiss, needing to remember how it felt to kiss the man he loved. “I love you, Ilya.”

"Shane..." Ilya’s voice cracked completely. "Don't... don't say it like that."

Shane stroked his cheek with trembling fingers. "I have to."

"I can't..." Ilya whispered. "I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

"No," Shane admitted quietly. "I don't. But I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

“Sir, sit DOWN!”

“No! I’m not fucking leaving him!” Shane yelled, and somehow he knew that the cabin crew weren’t about to get up and wrestle him back to his seat.

Suddenly, everything seemed to stop. There was silence as the rattling ceased, but there was no roar from the engines either. It was eerie, and Shane grabbed Ilya’s hand, holding on tightly realising that this was it. A deafening hideous roar erupted and then the nose of the plane tilted downwards, the world outside the windows moving far too quickly.

"I wanted more time," Ilya whispered, his voice so small Shane almost missed it. "We were supposed to have more time."

Everyone was screaming but Shane and Ilya’s eyes were locked on to each other. Both were crying, but Shane wasn’t going anywhere. If this was how it ended, then he wanted to be with Ilya. One way or another, he was always going to end up by Ilya’s side. They came together into another kiss, Shane desperately trying to keep upright. He finally pulled away, bringing Ilya close again until their foreheads touched.

"If this is it," Shane whispered, so quietly only Ilya could hear, "you won't face a single second of it alone."

Ilya closed his eyes. His fingers tightened around Shane's hand with everything he had left.

He saw the fear in Ilya’s eyes.

Then he saw nothing.

Chapter End Notes

I'd say it gets better but...

Well.

See you for the next one 🫡

Chapter 5: I don't wanna let go, 'cause I know what goodbye means

Chapter Summary

Subconscious nightmare

Pinned down

Still beautiful...

Chapter Notes

More pain. Oopsy.

Enjoy, and let me know your thoughts in the comments please.

More soon, I promise...

Shane woke up, stretching out on the soft, smooth sheets of his bed. Waking up at the Cottage was one of his favourite things to do in the world, especially when the sunlight was dappling the room, warming his skin. Shane stretched out, reaching for Ilya, but he found nothing. The sheets were still warm, which meant Ilya had been there but now, he wasn’t. Shane frowned and pulled himself up to sitting, letting the sheets pool at his waist.

“Ilya? You here?”

Shane stepped out of bed and into some clean boxers before he walked around, rubbing the sleep out of his face. The cottage was big but not so big he wouldn’t be able to hear Ilya if he was there. There were signs of him everywhere. A pile of Ilya’s unfolded clothes on the chair in the corner of the room, his razor by the bathroom sink, an empty coke can on the bedside table.

“Ilya?”

Shane walked out of the bedroom and headed through the cottage. It was still early in the morning, and everything around was peaceful. Shane shivered as a light breeze wrapped around his bare body, and he reached for a nearby hoodie, tugging it over his head, smiling when he realised it had Boston Raiders on the front.

The doors to the patio were open, only slightly but enough to cool the Cottage. The sky was clear, the sun slowly starting to rise. Shane walked outside in his bare feet, ignoring the discomfort of the wooden boards underneath his soles. He squinted as he looked towards the sun, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes but he couldn’t see a sign of Ilya.

“Ilya!” he yelled, his voice echoing into the void but there was no reply. Shane’s heart started to beat faster, feeling like something was wrong. Where was Ilya? He had to be here. His things were everywhere… he belonged with Shane. “Ilya, come on. This isn’t funny…”

Shane continued to walk around, stepping down from the deck onto the grass in front of the cottage. The dew wetted his feet but Shane couldn’t care less. All he wanted was Ilya. There was no sign. Had he just… gone? Had he had enough of Shane and left? He could feel tears running down his face, and a desperation grabbed at Shane’s heart, hopelessness taking hold.

“Don’t go, please-” Shane sobbed, sinking to his knees in the grass, “don’t leave me, Ilya-”

A sudden intake of air shook Shane from his sleep, and all he could feel was pain everywhere. He felt disorientated, and he had no idea where he was. It was terrifying, and Shane just stayed where he was, desperately trying to remember what had happened.

He’d been on a plane… somehow, he was sure Ilya had been there. He wasn’t sure how but he remembered seeing his boyfriend, holding his hand… he remembered text messages, Ilya crying. Screaming. Smoke. The plane… going down. Fuck. They’d crashed.

Shane wasn’t sure how long he’d been laying there when finally, he managed to open his eyes. His head was throbbing and there was a horrible pain across his stomach, but Shane focused only on keeping his eyes open, on making sure that he was okay. He remembered something he’d been taught years ago, about taking count of his body bit by bit. He wiggled his fingers then his toes, pleased to realise he could do both of those things.

His ears were ringing, a horrible high-pitched noise that made Shane want to scream. It was drowning out everything else around him, and Shane wasn’t sure right now if that was a blessing or a curse. Pain started to come back to him, bit by bit, and Shane groaned, shutting his eyes again before he realised that he shouldn’t do that, that he needed to stay awake. He tried to take a deep breath but his lungs protested, making him cough, causing a sharp pain in his chest.

Shane then started to slowly attempt to move his legs and arms, crying out in pain when he went to move his left arm, his shoulder screaming at him to stop. He was sure he’d felt this before, when he’d dislocated his shoulder playing hockey, and he knew the pain wasn’t going to stop until it was back in place. The thought of that was incredibly unappealing, and not something Shane could do now, not by himself.

As he came more to his senses, Shane started to hear other noises. He could hear screaming and crying, people yelling out names. He blinked, trying to focus his eyes as he looked around. What he saw was horrifying. The sort of scene you expected to see on screen as part of a disaster movie, not real life. They were clearly back on the ground, but the plane had splintered into two parts. Daylight was streaming in through the large hole created by the body of the plane splitting into two, and Shane could see dark plumes of smoke billowing into the air. The smell was acrid.

The cabin was… unrecognisable. Overhead bins were hanging open, empty, their contents ejected all over the floor, spilling across chairs and… bodies. Some seats were ripped out of place, and Shane didn’t want to imagine where those passengers were now. Windows were smashed, and it was a sight Shane knew he was never, ever going to forget.

Shane knew he couldn’t stay there on the floor, that he needed to get up, to do something to help. He tried to move but screamed out when his shoulder hurt again, the intensity of the pain leaving him reeling. He could hear groaning metal, like parts of the plane were still settling, screaming children, some sort of alarm wailing in the background and he tried frantically to remember what had happened. All he could remember was-

Ilya. Fuck. Where was Ilya?

Shane yelled out almost violently as he forced himself onto his side, using his right arm and hand to push himself upright. The pain was so intense Shane was almost afraid he was going to pass out, but he gritted his teeth until he sat down, looking around him in absolute horror. He quickly looked at his own body, seeing that aside from his shoulder, he thankfully appeared to be mostly unhurt.

He reached up to touch his head and glanced at his fingers when he pulled them away, seeing them stained red with blood. He felt around until his fingertips pressed against a cut and he hissed, trying to work out how bad it was. It didn’t feel deep or too long so Shane reached for a discarded sweater nearby, balling it up and pressing it to his head as he tried to stop the room from spinning.

“Ilya,” he let out brokenly, his voice raspy, like it was a struggle to speak. All he remembered was holding Ilya, looking into eyes, and then nothing. “Ilya-”

Shane looked up as he heard footsteps, and he saw a couple of passengers stumbling through the wreckage. They were bleeding, rivulets of blood streaming down their faces, their clothing torn. Shane was leaning against a bank of seats, trying to catch his breath as they walked past, one of them clutching a smashed iPhone that was clearly going to be of no help.

Slowly, carefully, Shane started to move. His body ached badly, like he’d been playing a violent game of hockey for hours, but this was somehow worse. His hips ached, the throb in his head was getting worse, and the pain in his shoulder was making him want to throw up. He stepped gingerly over the bag in front of him, screwing his eyes shut when he felt dizzy. He wasn’t sure he could move much further, but the idea of leaving Ilya alone, needing him was all he needed to continue.

Holding his useless left arm against his torso, Shane started to move around. Everywhere he looked was a mess. He kicked luggage and rucksacks out of the way, ignoring ringing phones, other devices blaring out. There were people calling out for help, people shouting for their loved ones, but Shane had only one person on his mind.

“Ilya! Ilya, can you hear me?”

He continued on, stepping over belongings as he trod carefully. He was certain that he’d just seen a dead body but he couldn’t bring himself to deal with that, not right now. He’d come back, when he knew that Ilya was okay.

“Ilya! Ilya!”

He froze, listening, certain he’d heard something. He was about to reach down and grab a suitcase out of the way when-

“Shane.”

It was weak, it was barely more than a whisper but Shane had heard it. He waited, needing to hear it again, to know what direction to go in.

“Ilya, I’m here! Yell out, baby, I’m coming for you.”

Silence for a moment, and a tear snaked down Shane’s cheek, full of fear that he was too late.

“Shane.”

His head snapped towards the sound, and Shane moved as fast as his injured body would allow him. He saw a row of three seats, mangled and twisted together, almost crushed into the row of chairs that were in front. The roof was still over this part of the plane, and it was making it hard for Shane to see. He stepped closer and pulled another bag out of the way with his good arm, ignoring the way his left shoulder was still agony.

“Ilya, I’m here, I’m here, just-”

There he was. He was half buried underneath the twisted seats. His right arm was bent and pinned above him at an angle Shane knew meant it was definitely broken. Blood was streaking down the side of his face from a cut that Shane couldn’t see, and he hurried forward, his whole body shaking as he looked at the man he loved. Ilya was breathing fast, but it was shallow, like he couldn’t catch his breath. His eyes were open and when they saw Shane, he could see the way Ilya’s face softened, relief masking some of the pain on his face.

“You…okay?”

Shane bit back a sob, tearing up as he realised Ilya’s first thought was for Shane’s own safety. Even though Shane was mobile, up and on his feet when Ilya was trapped, pinned underneath the twisted metal, in god knows how much pain.

“I’m fine.” It was a lie, but Ilya didn’t need to know that. Not now. He lowered himself to his knees next to his boyfriend, stroking his hair gently, ignoring the way it was matted with blood, staining his blond curls red. “I’ve got you. Let me see if I can get you out of here.”

Shane knew he couldn’t use his arms, not with his left shoulder damaged so he sat on his butt, placing the soles of his sneakers on the seat in front of Ilya, using the power of his legs to push. He yelled out but the seats didn’t shift at all. Ilya was still laying there, pale and blinking slowly, like he was struggling to stay awake.

“Hey, no, don’t go to sleep. Stay with me, Ilyusha.” Shane tried again, his muscles screaming in protest as he pushed hard but again, nothing budged. Not a single inch. “Fuck, I can’t-” he muttered, panic starting to rise. “I can’t get it off, Ilya.”

Ilya swallowed, his lips dry. His movements were slow, and Shane could see how hard he was fighting to focus, to speak, to even breathe. “Do not- do not hurt yourself.”

“Shut up. I need to help you. Let me help you.”

Shane tried to stand up again but winced, his body aching everywhere now. Maybe attempting to move the seats hadn’t been the best idea, but he couldn’t do nothing. He couldn’t watch his boyfriend lay there in agony and not try to help. He thought he heard a siren in the distance, and he wondered if someone had managed to call 911, to get help.

There were voices but Shane didn’t listen to them. He was walking around, trying to work out how he could free Ilya, who was getting paler by the minute. Ilya’s left hand was clutching at his stomach, and Shane wondered if there was something wrong. He bent now and tugged at the hem of Ilya’s tank, exposing his stomach. Where there was usually pale skin there were dark, angry bruises, a cut across his ribs. Shane wanted to vomit.

“This way, please follow me! We need to get everyone who can move to safety. Please come with me!”

Shane heard the instructions but ignored them, knowing he wasn’t going anywhere, not without Ilya.

He looked up to see flight attendants walking around, helping passengers, instructing them to leave their belongings behind. Some people were bleeding, some limping, others being lifted by passengers who were able to support each other. Everyone had a dazed look about them, like they couldn’t believe what was happening, and Shane understood that completely.

“Sir, you need to come with us.”

Shane moved so he could try and see what was pinning Ilya’s arm in place, ignoring the words until a hand tapped him on his shoulder, sending another flare of pain vibrating through him.

“Fuck! Don’t- don’t fucking touch me, fuck!”

“Sir, you need to evacuate.”

“No. He's trapped.”

“We’ll come back for him. Emergency services are on their way, they’ll-”

“No. I am not leaving him. No.”

The smell of smoke suddenly felt more intense, stronger somehow. There was an awful creak, a loud groan like the plane was protesting, struggling to hold itself together. Shane knew he could smell jet fuel but he couldn’t worry about that, not now. His priority was getting Ilya out.

“You need to leave, sir. This aircraft is unstable, and we need to get you to a place of safety.”

Shane looked up, into the eyes of the male flight attendant. His face was covered in soot, blood and tears, and Shane knew he didn’t look much better himself.

“I already said. I’m not leaving him.”

The man looked at Shane, then at Ilya, then back again at Shane. It was like he knew it was pointless to argue with Shane. That he wasn’t going to listen. Shane knew the man was just doing his job, that he wasn’t being cruel by trying to get Shane to leave, but at the same time… Shane couldn’t. He wouldn’t leave Ilya alone, not after what Ilya had said.

The man opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but then he just nodded, sighing before he turned around to go and help other passengers, people who wanted to leave the wreckage.

Shane put his attention back on Ilya and got back onto his knees next to his boyfriend, brushing his fingers against Ilya’s pale cheek.

“You’re still beautiful,” Shane said as he reached down between them, finding Ilya’s left hand and holding it in his own, both of them shaking. Ilya’s hand was cold, colder than it should be, and again, Shane felt a wave of panic rising. Ilya was in shock. His body was in trouble, and there was nothing Shane could do to help.

Ilya’s fingers gripped around Shane’s hand tighter, his breaths getting faster, shallower. He tried to talk but no words came out, and he just blinked up at Shane, like he was trying to say everything he needed to with his eyes alone.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shane reassured him as the plane groaned around them again, but he tried to block out everything except the two of them, alone, holding onto each other. “I’m right here, Ilya. Help is coming, okay? Just hold on.”

Chapter End Notes

Will Ilya get out? Is help coming?

Chapter 6 will be here soon... hold onto your tissues...

Chapter 6: If I never told you, you were it for me...

Chapter Summary

Silence is deafening.

Is yes...

Breaking containment.

The sirens were getting closer, Shane was sure. He’d only heard one before, but now there were multiple, all heading towards the disaster as quickly as they could. People who could help. People who had equipment that they could use to free Ilya. It was going to be okay. It had to be because Shane absolutely refused to imagine anything else.

The smoke around them was getting thicker, and as much as Shane tried to ignore it, he knew it wasn’t a good sign. He didn’t know if the pilots had managed to dump any of the fuel before the emergency landing, but even if they had managed to, there would still be a large quantity left in the fuel tanks, enough to cause a massive explosion if it were to spark. 

The body of wreckage around them continued to move and shift, letting out awful noises that sounded like groans from beyond the grave. The plane around them seemed relatively intact from what Shane could see, but he knew that things could change quickly, especially if fire took hold. He couldn’t think about that, not right now, not when there was no way for him to get Ilya out.

Shane held tightly onto Ilya’s hand, trying to keep it warm. Ilya’s hand was trembling in his, and Shane leaned in, bringing it carefully to his lips and pressing a kiss to Ilya’s skin. They didn’t speak, because truly, Shane didn’t know what to say. There were little to no words of comfort that he could offer right now, nothing that could make this okay. The fear was still evident in Ilya’s eyes, and he could see his boyfriend struggling more and more to breathe.

Shane’s own chest was hurting, and he knew he was wheezing too, that the smoke in the air was making it harder for him to breathe too. But Shane didn’t have the crushing weight of a row of chairs pinning him down, and he swallowed, feeling completely useless. Ilya had always, always been there for him, and right now, when Ilya needed him, Shane was unable to help. All he could do was sit there and hold his boyfriend’s hand, hoping and praying that some sort of help was going to come sooner rather than later.

After a while, Shane couldn’t bear the silence anymore.

“Talk to me.”

Ilya laughed weakly, but it quickly turned into a cough that had him wincing and then crying, his breath speeding up, like he was panting, unable to catch his breath. 

“I am.”

“You’re not. Come on, talk to me. Who is your next game against?”

“Hockey, Shane?”

“Yeah, come on. Tell me. Focus, Ilya.”

“Um, play Colorado. I think.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve got the Centaurs next. An easy win, right?”

“Then me.”

“Damn right, I can’t wait. Counting down the days, Ilyusha. It’s always so much more fun playing you. I’m just sorry we’re gonna beat you. Again.”

“No. Chance,” Ilya said, each word an effort to say, but his small smile gave Shane a little hope. “Shane. Hurts.”

“I know, baby. Can you tell me where it hurts? I wanna help you but I’m not sure how right now.”

Ilya nodded but the contortion of his features told Shane that even moving that tiny amount was causing him more pain than he was admitting here. “My, uh, my head. My arm. I can’t move.”

“It’s, uh, it’s stuck, Ilya. I’m gonna try and help you get it free, okay? But first, let me look at your head, see what’s happened.”

Shane moved slowly so that he didn’t dislodge anything or give Ilya any more pain than he was already in. He leaned over until he was so close to Ilya’s face that he could see his beautiful blue eyes. They were somehow duller than normal, and he could see that Ilya was sweating, still shaking and pale. He couldn’t help but bend down until he could brush his lips against Ilya’s, fighting back the tears.

“Okay, it’s a pretty deep cut, Ilya,” Shane said, carefully moving Ilya’s curls out of the way until he could see Ilya’s scalp. There was a long, diagonal cut that was still bleeding, and Shane knew he had to try and do something to stem the flow. His breathing was still laboured, and Shane knew that the blood loss wasn’t going to be helping. He could see a sweater on the floor so he grabbed it, hissing in pain as his shoulder twinged again. He balled it up and swallowed, looking at his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Ilya asked, his eyes locked on Shane, full of love and trust despite everything that was happening around them.

“This is going to hurt.”

“I am- tough,” Ilya panted out, a tear trickling from the corner of his eye. “Already hurts.”

“I know, baby. Keep being brave for me, okay?” Shane asked, and he pressed the sweater to the cut on Ilya’s head, crying as he saw Ilya’s mouth open in a silent scream, trembling with the wave of pain that rocked his body. “I’m sorry.”

“Is okay,” Ilya said, but his voice was getting weaker, his breathing more and more laboured. Shane was frightened but he stayed where he was, trying to stop Ilya bleeding.

The situation was feeling more desperate but Shane knew he couldn’t afford to panic. He silently ran through the first aid that he knew; keep pressure on the wound, keep the injured patient awake. He looked at Ilya, relieved to see his eyes were still open, albeit unfocused as they looked straight ahead of him.

His hands were starting to shake more so he moved his body until he was more comfortable, leaning his weight against the metal frame of the chair where Ilya still laid, pinned in place. From this angle, Shane could see that his left leg was pinned too, the pants he was wearing torn from the knee down. 

“Ilya. Ilya, look at me.” Ilya blinked then turned his head, seeking out Shane. “What day is it?”

“Вторник,” Ilya muttered, and Shane just nodded, knowing the Russian word for Tuesday. He wasn’t surprised Ilya was falling back into Russian now as he fought to stay conscious, English was probably too much to think about. 

“And where are we going? Hmm?”

“Home,” Ilya mumbled, and Shane smiled at the word Ilya had chosen to use. “With you.”

“That’s right. We’re going home together, Ilya. We’re going to have so much fun with each other, aren’t we?”

Ilya smiled slightly and nodded his head. “Always fun. With. You.”

“It is. You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Keep those beautiful eyes open, okay?” Shane shifted his body and cursed loudly as his shoulder twinged once more.

“You hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just my shoulder. Nothing serious, don’t worry about it.” Ilya said something so quietly that Shane couldn’t hear it. “What was that?”

“я тебя люблю,” Ilya whispered, and his lower lip trembled with the words. “Shane, I can’t-”

“Hey, no. Don’t do that. You can. I’m here with you, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You need to stay with me, Ilya.”

The wreckage of the plane groaned around them, and Shane’s eyes immediately went upwards, wondering what was happening. Dust started to rain down on them, and Shane tried to work out where it was coming from. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, but he just smiled, turning back to Ilya.

“Hey, you hear that?”

They both fell silent as Shane strained to hear, waiting for it to happen again. There it was. Voices. People were yelling, shouting instructions, crying out for help. Finally, emergency services were here. They were going to help get Ilya out. Sirens were still audible in the distance, and Shane was almost certain he could hear a helicopter above them.

“That’s help, Ilya. They’re coming.”

“I know,” Ilya said softly, his eyes fluttering shut. His chest was still heaving but Shane let go of the sweater against Ilya’s head enough to jiggle his shoulder. “Mmm, no-”

“I know. I know you want to sleep but I can’t let you right now. You need to stay awake. Tell me about this season, Ilya. Tell me about the goals you’ve scored.”

“Uh. Beat you.”

Shane laughed. “You did. When? Where?”

“Boston. Marly assist.”

“He did. I was so pissed at you. I saw it coming but you were too fast. I couldn’t react. You’re just… you’re the best on the ice.”

“Yes,” Ilya said with a smile, and he raised his free hand, wrapping his fingers loosely around Shane’s wrist, the motion appearing to take almost everything out of him. “And. In New York.”

“Don’t forget I scored against you in that match,” Shane said, remembering how fun his matches against Ilya and the Raiders had been this season. “Wasn’t going to let you beat me too easily.”

“We are best.”

“We are,” Shane agreed easily, looking up at Ilya’s arm that was still pinned. He was horrified to see that his hand was turning dusky now, definitely not the same colour as the rest of him that Shane could see. “Fuck-”

“Is bad?”

“Just… your arm. We need to get it out.”

“Can’t feel.”

“You can’t feel it?” Ilya just shook his head. “Okay, well… help is coming. You need to just stay with me, keep talking to me.”

Ilya just looked at Shane for a few seconds, like he was studying him, memorising his face. Shane was sure he could see something he rarely saw on Ilya’s face - fear. And there was nothing that Shane could say that could take it away.

“Listen. To me,” Ilya got out, and Shane just nodded, looking at his boyfriend, wishing there was something more he could do. “If they say leave-”

“No.”

“Shane. Please.”

“Ilya, I said no, dammit.”

Ilya carried on anyway, his eyes filling with tears again. “If they say leave. You go.”

“I already told you that’s not happening. I’m staying with you.”

“No. You be safe.”

Shane scoffed, starting to feel anger burning in his veins. “I’m not leaving you, Ilya.”

“They come.”

“Yes, they will. For both of us. And until then, I’m here. We’re together in this, okay?” Shane sniffed, looking away for a second to gather himself before he turned back towards Ilya. “We’ve already had too much time stolen from us, Ilya. Don’t you dare ask me to leave now.”

“Not hurt for- me.”

“I said I’m fine. It’s just a stupid shoulder injury. I’m not going.”

It was quiet for a few minutes, and Shane stayed silent to let Ilya catch his breath. He saw Ilya’s lips move but he couldn’t hear him, so he leaned in slightly, tilting his ear towards Ilya’s mouth to catch his words.

“Don’t- don’t want to die.”

Reading those words earlier had been hard enough. Hearing them fall from Ilya’s lips, full of pain and emotion, was almost too much for Shane to bear. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, desperately trying to regulate him before he could form a coherent answer. He couldn’t bear to think of that, not now. Not when he and Ilya were finally so happy, not when they’d realised that they wanted to be together, to make a life with each other. They had so much to look forward to. 

“I’m not gonna let that happen, okay? Not a chance. Not when I’ve just made you mine and not when we have so much to look forward to.”

Ilya gave Shane a wobbly smile as tears made wet tracks down his face. “What?”

There were things he’d been planning, things he wanted to keep secret but that seemed irrelevant right now. If those things would give Ilya more a reason to fight, then he wanted Ilya to know. 

“We’re gonna grow old together,” Shane started to say, keeping his voice light, adjusting so he could keep pressure on the cut on Ilya’s head. He was certain it must have stopped bleeding by now but he didn’t want to risk moving it to check. “We’re going to live at our Cottage when we retire, and have a family.”

“Babies?”

“A few I hope,” Shane said with a smile, and Ilya moved his hand to rest on Shane’s chest, above his heart. “Maybe a boy and a girl. We’re going to teach them how to skate. You’re going to be an amazing papa.”

Ilya’s eyes fluttered shut then opened again. “What else?”

“I’m going to marry you. I- I have a ring,” Shane admitted, certain he was blushing but the smile on Ilya’s face was worth spoiling the surprise. “I was waiting for the perfect moment to ask you but… there is no perfect moment, not really. I just want it to be us, for you to know how much I love you-”

“Yes.”

“How much I want to be your husband- wait. What?”

“Is yes.” Ilya muttered, licking his dry lips. “My answer.”

“Fuck,” Shane laughed, ignoring both of their tears. “Fuck, I’m going to marry you so fucking hard, Ilya. Want to be your husband, to have you forever.”

“Name.”

“Name? What?”

“Want. name.”

“You… your name? You want to…”

“Hollander.”

Shane took in a shaky breath, finally putting all of Ilya’s stuttered words together. “You want my name? When we get married?” He waited and finally, Ilya nodded. “Fuck, I’d love that. Ilya Hollander. Sounds fucking perfect, baby, oh my god-”

He leaned in, kissing Ilya’s lips hard, maybe hurting him but he couldn’t care for these few seconds. They were getting married, and Ilya wanted to take his fucking name. It was almost too happy, and Shane was certain he’d never been this happy and this terrified at the same time.

“Shane.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I… trapped.”

“I know you are. But help is coming, remember? I heard sirens, and there’s people coming to help you get out of here. I’m not going to leave until you’re out of here with me.”

“Might not.”

“Stop that. Stop being so fucking negative. You’re getting out here, and we’re going to get married as soon as we can, okay? You’re going to have my name, and we’re going to have children, and be so fucking happy, Ilya-”

“Shane-”

“No.” Shane’s voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes closed. “No, Ilya. Don’t.”

They fell quiet again, and Shane could hear noises getting closer. There were more sirens now, louder than before which meant they were coming. He could hear more voices yelling, he could hear the whirr of machinery, metal being cut. Something must be happening. Hope felt like a dangerous emotion right now, but it was better than the sheer terror that had taken over Shane’s whole body up until now. 

He just stayed where he was, almost laying down next to Ilya now as they sat waiting, unable to do anything else. All that mattered was the fact that Ilya was still with him, still breathing. The danger hadn’t passed but he was still fighting, still with Shane and that was all he could think about.

They were getting married. It wasn’t the romantic proposal that Shane had been planning, the one he’d discussed with Hayden, but somehow this had been perfect. It was just the two of them, lost totally in each other, promising a future that they so badly wanted and needed. Shane didn’t want a big, fancy wedding. All he wanted was to get out of here and find a courthouse, to get a licence and to marry Ilya. He just stared at the man he loved, watching every rise and fall of his chest, tuning out the world around them.

What he didn’t see was people looking on. Other passengers were realising that there was something to see. He didn’t notice a man in a Shane Hollander Metros jersey staring at them with a hand over his mouth, his phone raised as he snapped photo after photo, capturing a moment that should’ve just been theirs. He didn’t see a woman wrapped in a blanket standing next to him, videoing as Shane leaned down, changing the area of fabric pressed to Ilya’s cut head, whispering quiet words of love and devotion, unheard by anyone else. 

Neither of them were aware that at that moment, the entire world was beginning to watch. Their secret wasn’t going to stay secret much longer. Everything was going to change.

Chapter 7: To love someone so much, to have no control...

Chapter Summary

Outsider perspective

'Let me worry about it'

Actions are the statement.

Chapter Notes

This one is a bit different but I felt we needed the two perspectives.

I hope you like it.

Thank you for all the lovely comments so far, I've loved reading them, even the ones raging at the end of the last chapter lol. Please let me know your thoughts on this one.

xx

Inside the plane

The adrenaline was starting to wear off now as Shane stayed where he was, by Ilya’s side. His whole body was aching from holding his position, from keeping the pressure applied to Ilya’s head but there was no way he was moving. He hadn’t stopped speaking and his mouth was dry, his throat aching. He wasn’t going to stop. It was the only thing keeping Ilya conscious, his ridiculous ramblings about anything and everything he could think of.

He’d spoken about hockey, talking about their old matches, their newer ones, the ones where they’d pretended they meant nothing to each other. He spoke about the Sochi Olympics, how he’d been so proud to watch Ilya skating out wearing Russian colours, seeing him lead his team at such a young age. How he was so proud despite how everything had turned out.

He talked about the All Stars Games they’d played at together, how he’d enjoyed wrecking the records Ilya had sent, dismantling them by just a few hundredths of a second, just to get his own name in the history books. That had had Ilya chirping quietly back at him, and it had been music to Shane’s ears. If Ilya was chirping, he was still in there. 

He spoke about road trips with the Metros, how he hated rooming with anyone except Hayden. The way that Hayden never interfered with routines, his set ways of doing everything, down to always letting Shane sleep on the bed on the left of the room. Hayden’s slow but steady acceptance of Shane’s relationship with Ilya, the fact that Hayden was the only one he could be truly honest with about Ilya. All the times Hayden had teased him about Shane disappearing after games over the years, the simple fact that he always played better when it was against Boston.

He waxed lyrical about the Cottage, about the dinners they’d shared with his parents. He reminded Ilya just how much Yuna and David loved him now, the way that they were so supportive of their relationship. The certainty Shane held that, when they finally got out of here and to a hospital, Yuna and David would be waiting for both of them, ready to do whatever they needed to do to help them. Ilya had cried at that, and Shane had longed to hug him, to offer more comfort than he was by sitting next to him, holding a blood-stained sweater to his head. 

“I think you need to teach me how to make a tuna melt when we’re home,” Shane said, jumping as a loud bang thundered behind him. He looked over his shoulder but saw nothing except the wreckage, the smoke still billowing into the sky. “I know how much you like them, and I’d like to make them for you.”

“Easy.”

“I know, but I’ve never made them. It would be nice to cook more for you, I think. I know I have my stupid diet, but I want to cook things you’d like. I’ve been, uh, looking up Russian recipes with my Mom. We were going to practise some things we thought you’d like.”

“Solyanka.”

Shane smiled as he recognised the name. “Yes! I remember reading about that one, Mom found a recipe online we were going to attempt together next time I go to Ottawa. And there was, um, blini, and pelmeni, I think they were called? Like little dumpling things. They looked delicious, Mom said Dad would like those. Ilya, look at me, come on.”

Ilya’s eyes fluttered open to look at Shane before they closed again, so Shane carried on, determined to keep him awake.

“And that beet soup thing, uh, borscht? I’m probably murdering these words but you can correct me later. I’m not a big fan of beets, but I could try it for you. Dad’s grown beets in his garden before, maybe we could get him to grow some for us so we can make it.”

There was no reply to that. No reaction at all. Just the slower rise and fall of Ilya’s chest. There was longer between breaths now. Everything had slowed down.

“Ilya? Look at me. Ilya. Come on, baby, look at me.”

Ilya’s eyes cracked open and Shane smiled.

“Hey, there you are. Mom was talking about celebrating Orthodox Christmas this year for you, making some Russian dishes…”

Outside the plane

The first passengers that had been rescued were finally being removed from the wreckage. They were wrapped in foil blankets to keep their temperatures up, to try and help against the shock they were all in. Fear, terror, horror were emotions seen on every face around. Faces were stained with blood, soot, and tears. Everyone looked lost, screaming and crying for their loved ones, others stumbling around helplessly, into the arms of paramedics and firefighters, allowing themselves to be guided to safety, away from the wreckage.

Those who were less injured were standing around, watching in abject horror as rescue crews descended on the plane, trying in vain to save the souls still trapped inside. They knew there had been people who hadn’t made it. People had been forced to cover faces of people who had died, leaving their bodies behind because they didn’t have the strength to move them. Someone had seen a crumpled and broken body, vomiting at the sight. 

Phones were being held up, people capturing footage that would later be beamed into homes around the world. It wasn’t for any nefarious reason. They were the only ones on the ground, the only ones who knew of the horrors of what had happened over the past hour. They were documenting everything: the wreckage left behind, the heroic rescue workers concerned not for their safety, but set on rescuing others. Humanity at its very best. 

A phone camera turned to focus on the incoming wave of emergency vehicles, red sirens blaring noisily. Fire truck after fire truck rolled into the field, followed by ambulances, sirens screaming to announce their arrival. News helicopters were whirring around overhead, camera men leaning out to film what they could, to capture everything from above. Live feeds were streaming into people’s homes up and down the country. 

“Our plane just went down,” spoke one teenage boy behind his phone, his hand shaking as he panned around with his phone camera, taking in the entire scene before he zoomed back in on the plane, on the rescue worker clambering over folded metal, lifting himself inside. “The engines just… stopped working. We literally fell out of the fucking sky. It was terrifying.”

Another older woman was crying behind the lens of her own camera, the gold of her wedding ring glinting in the sun. “Please pray,” she sobbed, crying openly, the cut on her leg oozing blood, not that she had noticed. “Pray for those poor souls still trapped inside. I- I couldn’t get anyone out. They have to make it, they have to.”

Two elderly people stood staring at the wreckage, wrapped in each other's arms. They weren’t badly injured, just bruised with bumps on their heads. They hadn’t let go of each other's hands, and weren’t planning to do so just yet. A rescuer approached them, asking for their names but they didn’t answer, continuing to stare at the plane in horror.

“That nice young man next to me… Do you think he made it?” the woman asked, looking at her husband, seeing tears shining in his eyes. “He got up. I tried to pull him back, but he kept going, I- I didn’t see him again.”

“He looked strong. I’m sure he is okay. But… do you want to wait? Make sure?”

She nodded, and he took her hand. “If it was our granddaughter, I’d want someone waiting to make sure that she is okay.” She only looked around as someone tucked a blanket around her shoulder, and she thanked them quietly, not able to tear her eyes away from the plane. “He has to be okay.”

Then came the footage from inside the plane. Shaky hands holding cameras as they moved around, stepping over abandoned hoodies, devices, suitcases. Upturned drinks, discarded bags of crisps. Seatbelts hanging uselessly from seats. Oxygen masks dangling in the air, ripped away from faces by their users when they’d managed to escape. Shoes that had been kicked off, long forgotten. 

The camera panned around, capturing a few faces of people trapped inside. People crying, people unconscious. The camera tilted upwards, focusing on where the main body of the plane had been ripped into two parts upon collision with the ground, the ugly lines where it had been forced to split, something that was never supposed to happen.

“Shit,” came a low voice behind the camera. “This is fucking bad, man. Can you smell fuel?”

“Yeah, fuck. Maybe we should get out of here-”

“Wait, there’s two people there. Should we see if we can help?”

“Fuck, fine. But… I don’t want to stay long. I think this thing is going to blow.”

They fell silent as they picked their way through the wreckage, almost tripping and falling before they caught each other, getting their balance.

“Wait, isn’t that-”

“Oh my god. Is that Shane Hollander?”

The camera zoomed in, the image pixelated and slightly blurry, but the man behind the lens held it steady, letting the camera focus until finally, a face came into view.

“Fuck, that’s him, oh my god. I didn’t know he was on our flight.”

“Man, this is crazy. He’s bleeding, dude. But, wait- who is that-”

“Oh my god. What is he doing?"

Inside the plane

“Ilya, stop falling asleep. Come on, you need to stay awake.”

Shane glanced up at Ilya’s right hand, alarmed by the shade it was turning. Clearly, the blood was struggling to circulate, and Shane was starting to feel an impending sense of dread. He knew that time wasn’t on their side, that they were running out of time to get Ilya out of there before things took a more sinister turn. 

He kept asking questions, not because the answers mattered in any way but because it was the only way to keep Ilya awake, to keep him talking. 

“When’s my birthday?”

“Who won the Stanley Cup in 1998?”

“What position does Connors play?

“Who is the better player?”

That one made the tiniest flick of a smile appear on Ilya’s lips. “Still me.”

Shane laughed despite the desperation of the situation they were still in. “You’re delusional… maybe I should be really worried.” He reached down for a second, touching Ilya’s hair gently. “I’m just kidding. You’re right.”

Shane turned slowly to look behind him, wondering why it was taking them so long to get to where he and Ilya were still waiting for some kind of help. Part of Shane wanted to get up, to go and find someone and drag them back to see the state that Ilya was in, to show them how urgent it was that they get him out but… he couldn’t leave. Because he was terrified that if he did, he’d come back and Ilya… well. That he wouldn’t be with him anymore. 

Ilya’s eyes drifted shut again, and Shane said his name, gently shaking his shoulder. He reached up, touching Ilya’s dusky hand, his stomach rolling over uncomfortably with how cold it was. The bloodflow was definitely limited, and Shane was getting really worried that if they didn’t free his arm now, something potentially catastrophic would happen later down the line. 

“Hey, no, keep those eyes open, stay with me, Ilya.”

Ilya spoke, but his words were slurred, hard to understand. Shane just nodded but Ilya swallowed slowly, the effort for something as simple as that clear on his face. “I’m… sorry.”

Shane just blinked, unable to believe Ilya was apologising for this. “For what, exactly?”

“So… sorry.”

“Ilya, it was a plane crash. Neither of us could’ve ever known this was going to happen. And there was no way I was going to leave you alone, not what you said what you did, about your Mom and being alone. So stop apologising, please?”

Ilya just stared at Shane, his eyes heavy, almost unfocused by now. “No. About… us.”

“Ilya… no. what? I don’t-”

“Cameras. They will…” he gasped, taking in a shaky breath. “Will know.”

“I don’t care, I just want-”

“Ruin you. I ruin it.”

Shane felt himself choke up at Ilya’s words, and he quickly shook his head, letting go of the sweater against Ilya’s head to stroke his cheek, to hold him as he said his words. “Don’t you dare apologise for anything. Don’t waste whatever energy you have left on that. Because I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry for any of it. For falling in love with you, for us wanting a life together.”

“Shane-”

“No, listen to me, please? You need to know this, Ilya. I don’t care about hockey. I don’t care about the league, about what people say. I care about you. You’re the most important person in my life. You’re all I care about right now. Nothing else matters.”

Ilya nodded, gently nuzzling into Shane’s hand.

“So you just focus on breathing, and staying awake for me, okay? You let me worry about everything else.”

Ilya licked his hips again. “Okay.”

“Good. I love you so fucking much, Ilya. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

Outside the plane

Press tent

“Shit, there’s a new video on Twitter. Can we use it and credit the user?”

The man wearing a headset shrugged. “I guess so. This is unprecedented, so let’s just go for it. If we’re wrong, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

The woman sat at the bank of screens tapped a few buttons, bringing up the shaky, handshot video onto a handful of monitors around them. “It’s blurry. Are there any others?”

“Sending links, Jen,” called another voice, and she waited until her screen pinged with another notification. She pulled that video up, and smiled, realising the footage was much clearer. “Better?”

“Yeah, much,” she said, her face serious as she took in the carnage in front of her. The video zoomed out and panned around, showing the wreckage that the crash had created. It looked horrendous, and Jen felt a little sick at the fact there were still people trapped inside. She felt people gathering behind her, watching the footage. “Wait-”

“Holy shit,” said a man from behind her right shoulder. “That’s Shane Hollander, right? The hockey guy?”

She nodded. She’d been a fan of hockey for years, and would know that face anywhere. She wasn’t a Metros fan but Shane was well known enough that his fame had burst out of the confines of the hockeysphere. “Yeah, and that’s…”

“Ilya Rozanov. Fuck, he looks bad-”

It was clear from the footage that Ilya Rozanov was in a bad way. They all fell silent as they watched Hollander’s actions unfold on screen. They watched as Hollander stroked Rozanov’s hair with a touch that was so gentle, too intimate to be an action between people who were just friends. They watched, jaws dropped, as Hollander cradled Rozanov’s cheek, his lips moving and muttering words they couldn’t hear. 

“What is happening?”

“Why are they- are they together?!”

Jen just kept staring at the screen which was repeating on a loop. She looked carefully as she saw how Rozanov’s eyes didn’t leave Hollander’s, that he nodded at whatever was being said to him. She could see that he was pinned underneath the chairs, that there was no way at all that he was getting out of there on his own volition.

“There’s no one else around. But Hollander is still there.”

Jen nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat as realisation hit. “He doesn’t want to leave him. He’s not leaving Rozanov alone.”

Inside the plane

Ilya was crying now, but the worst part was how silently he was doing it. Ilya had cried before, but only on a few occasions. It usually took a lot to make him cry, but when he did, it was loud, unguarded, especially in Shane’s presence. But this time… there was a distinct absence of any sounds at all, which made it harder to bear.

Large, round tears were falling in a silent stream from Ilya’s eyes, and it broke Shane’s heart to watch. He couldn’t do anything to help except to wipe away his tears, to remind Ilya that he was still there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

He didn’t really think about it when he leaned in, pressing kisses to Ilya’s forehead, his cheeks, his hand… then his lips. If all he could offer was comfort, then he was going to do that in the only way he knew how. He knew that Ilya loved being kissed, that Ilya cherished any time he got to be loved by Shane in those little ways that mattered. So that was what Shane would do until he was free and he could look after him in much better ways.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shane whispered, bringing the back of Ilya’s free hand to his lips and kissing each fingertip gently, his eyes closing as he did so. “I can’t believe that you chose me sometimes. You’re gorgeous, you could have anybody but you… you picked me. And I fucking love that you did that. Because I love you so much, Ilya. I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with you.”

“Husband,” Ilya said, and although the word was slurred, Shane could still hear it. He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, you’re going to be my husband, and I’m going to be yours. It’s going to be my favourite thing to be called. Even more so than Stanley Cup Winner.” That drew a smile from Ilya, and Shane grinned back. “Can’t wait until I can call you that. My husband. The love of my fucking life.”

He kissed him again.

Outside the plane

The footage was picked up by one news station, then another until it was viral, beaming into homes around the world. Whether or not the viewers knew who Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov were didn’t matter. It was clear that this was shocking news. The fact a commercial plane had come down in an emergency landing in Canada was one thing. But two sportsmen at the top of their sport being publicly affectionate in a way that couldn’t have been brushed off as just friendship was something else entirely.

The kisses were analysed, replayed in slow motion, dissected by everyone from sports journalists to body language experts brought in by mainstream news stations to add gravitas to the situation. 

Social media was alight with speculation. There were many fans horrified by the crash, especially when they realised that the two Captains leading the MLH Eastern conference were involved. Many were stunned by the revelation of the apparent relationship reveal, posting previous match photos, memes, interviews, anything they could find to prove that the public perception was that Hollander and Rozanov hated each other. That their rivalry was so intense they could barely stand to look at each other.

But this footage blew all of that out of the water. Not only were the two captains not really rivals at all, they were apparently… involved, in some romantic sense it would appear. People were trying to guess what Hollander was saying, why the two men were sharing soft smiles at each other. How Rozanov kept reaching for him as his face contorted in twists of pain. How Hollander kept pressure on some sort of wound on Rozanov’s head, only letting his hand drift to offer comfort through gentle touches against curls, against cheeks, pressing against Rozanov’s chest for a few seconds. 

Miles away, at the League headquarters, men were rushing into the boardroom, the news footage playing on a large screen at one end of the room. They were talking in small groups, denying any knowledge of the apparent relationship. Some were furious, cursing the two men for bringing the name of the league into disrepute. Wondering how they could punish them for this, how they could show that would not be tolerated.

Others were more concerned for their welfare, for how Rozanov was going to be able to play when he got out… if he got out. They were concerned that Rozanov’s injuries were going to be career ending. Would Hollander want to keep playing after this? Would he ever be happy to get back on a plane again, which was the lifeblood of their sport? What would they do if the two biggest names, the two biggest draws of ice hockey retired, never to step foot onto the ice again?

“We need to release a statement,” shouted one voice, and a strange hush settled around the room. People look quizzically towards each other, nobody daring to say anything until-

“Saying what? We have no idea what is going on.”

“No. Not until we have confirmation that they’re both safe, that they’re both out of there and alive. Let people speculate. They have eyes, they can see the footage. Let them come to their own conclusions until we speak to Hollander and Rozanov.” The man paused, looking slowly around the room, meeting the eyes of the rest of the suits around him. “We owe them that much.”

Inside the plane

It sounded like the sirens were getting louder. There were more of them, Shane could hear that, but he was certain they were close now. The noises he’d heard before, the whirring machinery starting up and stopping as the rescuers attempted to gain access to the broken ruins of the plane.

“You hear that? They’re so close, Ilya. You'll be out of here before you know it. We’ll get to the hospital, they’ll fix your arm and your leg, and then we’ll be home.”

“Then… what?” Ilya said, gasping between each word, trying desperately to talk even though it took so much out of him.

“Then we get married. We sort out getting us on the same team so that we can live together, wake up together… it sounds fucking amazing, doesn’t it? Then we play, we win Cups together, we retire… have babies, and just be… happy, Ilya. Because that’s what we deserve.”

“Perfect,” Ilya sighed, his eyes closing again, and this time they didn’t open again. Shane watched Ilya’s chest nervously but it continued to rise and fall so he let out a breath, keeping his vigil. 

“They’re almost here,” he whispered over and over. “You hear me, Ilya? They’re almost here.”

There was a nearby bang which startled Shane, and he could finally see a bit of movement close by.

“We’re going to be alright, Ilya."

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 8 very soon...

Help is finally on the horizon....

Chapter 8: You were stuck inside, I couldn't get you out...

Chapter Summary

Someone, anyone …
This is gonna hurt.
Say I Love You more…

Chapter Notes

Once again, thank you for all the kind things you've said in the comments of this fic. Believe me, they've kept me writing.

I'm excited you for you to read the rest of this story, but thank you for bearing with it, I know WIP isn't everyone's cup of tea.

Please do share your thoughts in the comments as always. x

All he could do was wait. By this point, Shane had no idea how long they’d been laying there, how long it had been since the plane had crash landed. His phone was somewhere abandoned on the floor, but Shane couldn’t even bring himself to worry about it. It must have been hours by now, but how many exactly, Shane had no clue. The sky wasn’t beginning to get dark so he figured it must be mid-afternoon.

Shane knew that his own injuries were beginning to cause him more pain than he wanted to admit. The pain in his shoulder had dulled to a constant ache, but as long as Shane stayed as still as possible, it was bearable. He’d had worse during hockey games, but there, he was able to be treated by medics, to be given medication to help lessen the pain. Right now, he was only relying on adrenaline to get through.

He knew there was dried blood on his face, his skin feeling taut whenever he tried to move or talk, but all he could hope was that the sight of him wasn’t too terrifying to Ilya. It hurt to breathe in, and Shane wasn’t sure if that was because of his shoulder or because he’d injured his ribs. Either way, there wasn’t anything he could do about that right now. His priority was Ilya, and it would stay that way until he managed to get Ilya out and to safety.

He kept looking up, waiting for someone, anyone, to arrive to help. He couldn’t believe that despite the fact emergency crews had been on the scene for a while now, that nobody had managed to get into the body of the plane to help them. He’d tried yelling out but had got no response. It felt a waste of energy to keep shouting, so he stayed quiet, whispering soothing words to his boyfriend.

All of a sudden, there was commotion nearby. Loud metal screeches rang out, hurting Shane’s ears as the noise got closer, louder. He could hear voices now, people yelling something inaudible and Shane felt his heartbeat quicken, certain that finally, they’d been found. He bit his lip and looking at Ilya, his eyes shining with anticipation of them finally being taken out of this godforsaken hellhole.

A face appeared over the back, and Shane let out a sob, closing his eyes as the emotion finally got the better of him. They weren’t alone. Someone had come.

“Hi, my name is Aiden, I’m a paramedic,” the man said, his voice steady and calm. “Can you tell your names?”

“I’m Shane, and this is Ilya,” Shane said, nodding towards Ilya, whose eyes were still shut. “We, uh, I can’t move him-”

“It’s okay, Shane, I actually don’t want to move him right now, so you’ve done the right thing in taking care of him. I want you to focus on my voice while I do some checks, okay? Can you do that for me?” Shane just nodded. “If anything hurts or feels worse, you let me know right away.”

Shane paused. “He… he can’t talk. His eyes closed a while ago, and I… I haven’t been able to wake him up.” His voice broke at that admission, and he looked up, seeing only kindness and concern reflected back at him. 

“Thank you for letting me know.” Another paramedic appeared beside him, a woman who was pulling gloves onto her hands. “This is my colleague Gabby.”

“Hi. I’m just going to step over so I can come assess-”

“Ilya,” Shane supplied, not letting go of Ilya’s hand.

“Ilya, yes, thank you.” She reached around Shane, pressing two fingers to Ilya’s neck. “Pulse is present. Can you pass me a collar, please?”

Aiden acknowledged her and Shane watched as they worked seamlessly together, placing a plastic collar around Ilya’s neck without moving him too much. Aiden spoke next, his attention back on Shane.

“Okay, Shane, I want to take a look at you now while Gabby is with Ilya. Before I touch you, can you tell me where it hurts the most?”

“My shoulder,” Shane said, nodding towards his left shoulder and arm. “I think it’s dislocated. I’ve done it before, playing hockey. And my chest. I think it’s my ribs.”

“Alright. I’m going to be as gentle as I can, but this might hurt.” He reached out, pressing his hands around Shane’s shoulder joint, with Shane hissing and gritting his teeth as Aiden attempted to move his arm slightly. “Okay, I agree it’s probably dislocated but we’re going to need an x-ray to confirm. I think since you’re moving, we’re not dealing with a spinal or neck injury.”

“No, I- I’m fine, I can move everything.”

“Aiden, can you come and stabilise so I can start an IV on Ilya?”

“Sure. Stay there, please, Shane.”

“Can I- can I stay with him?”

Aiden nodded slowly. “For now, yes.”

Shane could only look on as they held Ilya’s arm steady, sliding the needle into the vein of his left arm. Clear fluid started flowing into Ilya’s body, and Shane watched his face, waiting for his eyes to open. They’d replaced the sweater Shane had been holding against Ilya’s head with a large, white dressing which meant Shane was finally free to hold Ilya’s hand.

“Can you get him out?” Shane asked a few minutes later when the paramedics had stopped talking to each other.

“The aircraft isn’t stable enough. We were only instructed to come in and assess you both. If we move the wrong piece of metal, the whole thing could shift and…” he didn’t need to finish his sentence for Shane to understand. “I’ve given Ilya some fluid and pain relief, so hopefully that’ll make him more comfortable for now.”

“How long?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. We just need to be patient and wait.” Waiting was all Shane had been doing for the past few hours. He was sick and tired of waiting. “People are coming, I promise you that.”

Again, Shane nodded. “Please, I need to know. How long are we going to be stuck here?”

There was no answer. The female paramedic left but Aiden remained, cutting open Ilya’s shirt to place pads onto his chest. Shane watched as the monitor fired into action, showing the trace of Ilya’s heart. He didn’t know what any of the numbers meant, but he saw Aiden frowning at it before he jotted something down in the small notepad he’d taken out of his pocket.

“I… he had a cut on his head. I tried to stop it bleeding, I didn’t have anything clean but I figured something dirty was better than nothing. I, I-”

“Hey, Shane, breathe for me,” Aiden said, coming around and crouching next to Shane. He grabbed a little torch from his pocket and shone it into both of Shane’s eyes before he put it away again. “I need you to calm down. Ilya needs you here, okay? I know he’s unconscious right now, but he can hear you, and he’ll want you with him. Can you breathe with me? In for 3… and out for 5.”

Shane did his best to copy the man in front of him. He wasn’t a stranger to panic attacks but lately, Ilya was always the one to talk him down from them, whether it was in person or on the phone. Ilya was the only person Shane trusted with him when he was in that state but right now, all he had was Aiden so he had to trust him too.

“Good. Well done, keep going. In and out with me… good.”

Shane only really came back to himself when the monitor started to beep, and finally, Ilya’s eyes slowly opened. They were hazy, unfocused, and his mouth opened and closed before he managed to form a word.

“Shane.”

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” Shane said, hurrying to move himself so he was within Ilya’s line of sight. “You’re awake.”

“Hurts,” Ilya murmured, eyes flitting between Shane and the other man to his side.

“I know, but Aiden gave you some pain relief. He’s come to help us, baby. You’ve got an IV in your arm so don’t move, okay? I’m so glad to see you awake…”

“Out?”

“Ilya, hi? Can you look at me?” Ilya turned to look at the paramedic, and Shane stayed quiet, but squeezed Ilya’s hand tightly, letting him know he was still there. “Good job. I’ve given you fluids because I’m sure you’ve lost enough blood that your body is struggling right now. I’ve already told your friend that we can’t get you out just yet, but we’re working on it. I’m staying with you until we can make that happen, okay?”

Ilya shook his head, and he licked his hips, looking at Shane and then back at the paramedic. “Husband.” He looked at Shane, making what he was trying to say crystal clear. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t say-”

“Uh, not yet,” Shane said with a small smile. “We’re getting married but… Ilya is excited about it.”

“Well, congratulations. Ilya, sorry to bring the conversation back to this, but can you tell me where it hurts the most?”

“Leg,” Ilya said, and he swallowed slowly. “And chest.”

“Does your right arm hurt?” Ilya shook his head. “Can you feel anything here?” Shane watched the man press the tip of his pen against Ilya’s skin, and he felt sick when Ilya showed no acknowledgement of the touch at all. Aiden pressed the pen harder into Ilya’s arm, digging into the skin. “What about here? Now?”

“No,” Ilya said, crying quietly again. 

“That’s okay. I just… I’m just stepping over there to make a call, okay? Shane, shout if you need me.”

Shane nodded, and he looked back down at Ilya, the pair finally alone again.

“Sorry.”

Shane frowned. “For what? You have nothing to be-”

“Husband.”

“For calling me your husband? Don’t ever be sorry for that, I love it.”

“I make- make you secret.”

“Hey, no. You didn’t make me do anything. We decided that together because it was what we had to do to keep playing, okay? But now none of that matters. All that matters is getting you out of here, getting you safe.”

Ilya nodded, wincing when he moved and the IV in his arm tugged slightly at his skin. “Shane. I… I am scared.”

“I know. I am too. This is scary.”

Ilya shook his head, breathing shakily before he spoke again, his words quiet but Shane leaned in, listening carefully. “Shane. You… go.”

Shane didn’t even bother to look up from where he was looking down at their linked hands, the way Ilya’s pale fingers were wrapped around Shane’s. “No.”

“They make you.”

Shane laughed ruefully. “They can try. But I’m a big guy. I’ve fought bigger than them before. They won’t make me leave, Ilya.”

Ilya sighed. “I am serious.”

“So am I.”

When Ilya spoke again, his voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I… I do not want you here. If…”

Shane froze. “If what?”

Ilya didn’t answer immediately. “If… this is it.”

“No. Fucking stop it-”

“I not want-” Ilya’s English was struggling again, and Shane watched as he struggled to form his next words. “Not want last remember to be-” He coughed, wincing in pain. “Me. This.”

Shane just stared at his boyfriend, disbelief on his face. “You think I’m leaving?”

“Do not-“ He took in a shaky inhale. “-watch me die.”

Shane’s face twisted into something harder, more angry. “You don’t get to decide that. I do.”

“I-”

“No.” Shane’s voice was raised for the first time, and he glared at Ilya, unable to believe that his boyfriend thought he could get him to leave. “This isn’t going to be my last fucking memory of you, okay? And I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. We're forever, Ilya. You don't get to choose not to spend it with me.”

“Please-”

“No. End of discussion. I’m staying.”

Ilya just closed his eyes and turned his head slightly away from Shane, like he knew fighting him on this was futile. Shane Hollander was a stubborn motherfucker when he wanted to be, and never more so than when someone he loved needed him. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving there without Ilya. 

Aiden was back, and he was quiet as he stayed by Ilya’s side. He was taking photos and sending them, but Shane didn’t bother to ask to who. It was clear that it was probably to the rescue team, and the way he was snapping photos of Ilya’s arm and dusky hand made him worry slightly, certain the paramedic was more concerned about it than he was letting on. 

“We win?”

Shane snapped back to Ilya, seeing his boyfriend was awake again. “What?”

“We win? Game?”

“I- yeah, Ilya. The Raiders won your last game.”

“You score?”

Shane frowned. “What? No, you were playing Colorado, remember? I haven’t played against you in a few weeks.”

“You lock the door?”

Shane looked desperately over to Aiden, feeling panicked that Ilya wasn’t making sense.

“It’s probably the blood loss causing delirium. I know it’s scary  but this is quite common. Just… try and reassure him. Don’t tell him that he’s wrong, just answer his questions. Keep him talking, Shane. I know this is hard, but help is coming.”

Nodding slowly, Shane turned back to his boyfriend. He chatted with Ilya as he spoke about things that didn’t make any kind of sense. He was talking about things that had happened years ago, things that Shane wasn’t even part of. For the most part, Shane was making up the answers but Ilya seemed to accept them as fact.

“You… listen,” Ilya said a while later, his pale face changing as he reached up his free hand, cupping Shane’s cheek. Shane held it there, Ilya’s arm shaking with the exertion of moving his arm in that way. “Shane-”

“No. Don't say it again, I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you, okay?”

“No. Is… I love you.”

Shane stayed silent, but then he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Ilya’s. “I love you too. So fucking much. That’s why you’re getting out of here, okay? Because I need to spend the rest of our lives showing you how much.”

“I should-” A deep inhale, a shaky exhale. “-have said it more.”

“You said it plenty. I always knew, Ilya. Even when we couldn’t say it out loud. You don’t need to worry about that. You said it enough.”

Ilya nodded, painfully slowly. “Was never enough.”

They stopped talking as a loud voice yelled out and they all jumped. Aiden stood up and leaned over the chairs, waving a hand at the approaching person. Shane looked up just as the man came into view. He was a firefighter, wearing a helmet and full gear, his face looking serious.

“We’re here. Two people to recover. One looks pinned. We’ll need the equipment in here.”

Shane looked down at Ilya, smiling at last. “See? I told you. They’re here and they're getting you out.”

Chapter End Notes

Are they actually getting out?!

DO NOT miss chapter 9...

Chapter 9: But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along...

Chapter Summary

This is going to be challenging.

Испуганный.

But I promised I wouldn’t leave him...

Chapter Notes

All I can say is I'm sorry.

x

Shane was surprised by the amount of people that descended on them within just a few minutes. They’d been alone for what felt like hours, and now, they were surrounded by professionals, people here with one intention - to get them out of here. To save Ilya’s life. He wanted to cry with gratitude, but instead he tried to listen in to their conversations, to work out just how they were going to make it happen. 

“-not sure how we do this.”

“Um, excuse me,” Shane called, and he froze for a second as multiple faces turned in his direction. Some of the firefighters were still wearing their helmets, others were holding them, but they all looked concerned. “Are you getting us out of here?”

One of the men stepped forward. “My name is Captain Martins, I’m in charge of this rescue operation. I understand that you’re keen to get out of here-”

“No, not for me. My boyfriend is in trouble. He’s struggling to breathe, and he’s been pinned under these seats for hours. His arm…” Shane waved in its direction, drawing attention to it. “It’s getting dusky. I’m- I’m really worried.”

“We understand that, sir. Extracting your boyfriend is going to be more complicated than we thought. We need time to work out a plan, how we’re going to do this safely so we don’t cause more injury. Your names?”

“I’m Shane, he’s Ilya,” Shane replied. 

The fire fighters turned to the paramedics, starting to ask questions about Ilya.

“Date of birth?”

Shane interrupted. “June fifteenth, ninety ninety one.” He was holding Ilya’s hand as he continued to answer questions, often speaking over the paramedic but nobody seemed surprised. Every question came quickly, and he answered just as immediately.

Medical conditions? Current medications? Allergies? Has he lost consciousness? For how long? Has he been complaining of pain?

Shane only fell silent when the questions became too medical for him to answer, more related to Ilya’s injuries and his trauma but even then, he was listening intently, trying to read between the lines of the answers being given.

Through everything, Shane didn’t let go of Ilya’s hand. The firefighters sighed as they moved around, trying to get Shane to move but he refused, steadfast in his intent to stay exactly where he was.

“Sorry, let me interrupt,” Aiden spoke up, and the firefighters turned to look at him, pausing their conversation. “I realise you want Shane to leave. But medically… I’d like him to stay, for now at least. He’s the only thing keeping Ilya calm.”

One of the firefighters next to Shane nodded. “I think we need to keep the boyfriend here for now.”

The captain nodded. “Agreed. We'll keep him there until we start to work.”

Shane continued to sit and talk to Ilya as the firefighters came in and out of the aircraft, bringing equipment with them. They set up horrendously bright lights to illuminate the area more carefully, and several of them stood over Ilya, looking at where he was pinned by the seats, using torches to look carefully at his body, discussing what harm they’d cause by moving the metal off him. 

“You doing okay?” Shane asked, and he was pleased when, after just a few seconds, Ilya managed a nod. “They’re just talking about the best way to get you out of here.”

“How long?”

Shane stroked Ilya’s cheek, tucking his hair out of the way. “Not long, baby. I’m gonna make sure they look after you.”

Ilya smiled gently. “Thank you. Love you.”

“I love you too- oh, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine, can we just move you over that side so we can get a closer look at where this arm is pinned?”

Shane nodded and carefully stepped over Ilya’s body, settling himself on the other side. He made sure not to jostle the IV bag which was laying next to Ilya’s shoulder, still pumping fluid into Ilya to keep him as stable as he could be at the moment. 

The equipment looked enormous and terrifying. Shane had no idea what most of it was for, but the men around started to put things into place, the noise around them becoming deafening. Through everything that was happening, Shane stayed by Ilya’s side, their hands still holding each other tightly. Ilya’s eyes kept drifting shut, but Shane let him rest, knowing that maybe the worst part was still to come. 

Sparks flew as the firefighters started to cut at the metal keeping Ilya pinned into place. Shane watched as those on the sidelines lifted things out of place, carrying them out of the way. The vibration through the floor was hideous, almost making Shane feel sick but he ignored that, concentrating only on keeping Ilya calm. 

“Ugh, not nice,” Ilya murmured, scrunching up his face in discomfort. “Oww, fuck. Stop! STOP! Останавливаться!”

“Hey. Hey, fuck! Stop it, you’re hurting him!” Shane yelled, and the machines switched off, frowning faces turned in their direction. “Sorry, just… he’s in pain.”

“Can we give him something for the pain?” one of the firefighters asked Aiden, who just nodded, reaching into the medical bag by his feet. He quickly set about administering it into Ilya’s IV as he spoke quietly to Ilya and Shane.

“Where is it hurting?”

“Моя нога. Мое бедро.”

“His leg and his hip,” Shane translated, thinking it probably wasn’t a good thing that Ilya was slipping back into Russian. “Бедро? Где именно?” Ilya just pointed to where his leg was being held at an awkward angle by the twisted metal, and Shane nodded. “I think it’s where he can’t move it. Maybe you guys cutting the metal is making it move?”

The fire captain came closer. “Can he understand me?” Shane nodded. “Ilya, we have to cut away some of this material to get you out of here. I’m sorry, but it is going to hurt. You’re just going to have to be brave. They’ve given you more pain meds, but just bear with us.”

Ilya nodded but he grabbed Shane’s hand tighter, tugging him closer. “Испуганный.”

Shane nodded, pressing his lips together to try and stave off his emotion. “I know. I’m frightened too.  But we have to do this if we want to get you out of here, okay?”

Ilya gave a tearful nod and closed his eyes, like he was bracing himself for more pain. 

The firefighters gave Shane a nod and restarted their work. As much as Shane wanted to talk Ilya through this, to distract him, he knew it would be pointless. There was no way Ilya would be able to hear him so instead, he stayed stoically by Ilya’s hand, holding him through the pain. He stroked his hand, his face, whatever part of Ilya he could reach to give him some form of reassurance. It would never be enough, but it was all Shane had right now.

There was a pause in the cutting of metal, so Shane leaned in, trying to get Ilya’s attention.

“Hey, look at me. Ilya, baby, look at me.” Slowly, Ilya’s eyes opened, but he was pale again, struggling to stay awake, his eyes closed more often than they were open by now. “There you are. You’re doing so well, okay?”

“I can’t-”

“You can, and you are. Squeeze my hand harder, whatever you need.”

The cutting resumed and Shane gritted his teeth through the noise, through the sensations rumbling throughout his whole body. However hard he was finding this, Ilya was finding it a hundred times harder, and he was getting through it. Shane had to be strong. He could fall apart later when Ilya was safe, when he had people better than Shane looking after him. 

“Shane. Shane- sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Shane waved away the concern, just blinking up at the firefighter hovering close by. “We’re going to need you to move.”

“What? No, I- they said I could stay.”

“We need to cut away more of the material pinning Ilya in place. To do that, we need to get you out of harms way-”

“But Ilya…”

“He’ll be safe. We’ll cover him, protect him.”

“No, I won’t. I’m not leaving!”

“It isn’t safe.”

Shane shook his head. “I don’t care.” He swallowed, looking at Ilya again. “I promised him.”

The firefighter stepped away, but Shane wasn’t surprised when just a few moments later, the captain came towards him, kneeling slowly next to Shane, like he was an undiffused bomb they were scared to set off. 

“I need you to hear me.” Shane just gave the Captain a brusque nod. “If you stay there, my crew will not be able to work.”

“I told him I’d stay with him.”

“I respect that.” The captain nodded, and rested a hand on Shane’s shoulder, forcing their eyes to meet. Shane saw something devastating behind the man’s eyes.

“But if you stay there, we can’t save him. Do you understand?”

Shane nodded, realising he didn’t have a choice. If he wanted Ilya to live, he had to leave him. He had to do the one thing he’d promised Ilya he wouldn’t do. His tears welled with eyes as he looked back at the captain. “Can I- can I have a minute with him? Please?”

The man nodded and stepped away, giving Shane a modicum of privacy. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Ilya’s. He took the opportunity to look at Ilya… to really look at him. He was paler than Shane had ever seen, and more worryingly, his lips were tinged blue, like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Ilya was fading away in a slow manner that was utterly terrifying. 

“I have to go, okay?” he whispered, tears falling against Ilya’s skin. “I don’t want to. But… if I stay, they can’t save you-” his voice broke at that, and Shane sobbed, fully realising for the first time how close he was to losing the love of his life. “I’ll be back. You be strong, okay? You fight this, Ilya. You stay here with me.”

Ilya’s eyes opened slowly, and Shane felt his breath against his own lips. “Don’t-”

“I won’t. I’ll be right over there, waiting for you.” He leaned in, kissing his boyfriend, lingering for just a few seconds longer. “I love you.”

“Shane, I’m sorry but we really need to move you.”

Shane went to stand but Ilya squeezed his hand, a tear trickling from his eye. He went to speak, but it was such an effort. Shane leaned in, listening carefully as Ilya spoke.

“I… never got-” Ilya wheezed as he tried to breathe in, clearly struggling. The sight of it twisted at Shane’s heart. “-to marry you.”

It was like everything around him froze as Shane just forced himself to look at Ilya, aware of the eyes of everyone around them watching and listening.

“You still will. You’re getting out of here, and we’re getting married, Ilya. I'm not letting you leave me yet. I love you, okay? So much.”

Shane smiled gently and squeezed Ilya’s hand once more before he stood up, finally stepping away. For the first time in probably hours, he wasn’t touching Ilya. 

The rescue crews got to work quickly, and with frightening efficiency. It was clear it wasn’t the first time they’d come across a situation like this, and Shane felt ridiculously grateful that they were here, that they knew what they were doing. He was standing behind a cordon, far enough away that he could see what was happening, but out of the danger zone. 

For a second, he looked down at his shaking hands, blinking at the sight. They were stained red, and he felt sick as he realised it wasn’t his own blood. It was Ilya’s. There was nothing he could do to help. He was just standing there, watching on like some sort of macabre voyeur, waiting for any sign, anything at all that told him they’d been successful, that they’d managed to free Ilya.

“STOP! EVERYONE, STOP!”

Shane’s heart lurched at the urgency in the voices of the emergency crews screaming out, and he clenched his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms as he struggled to steady himself. All he wanted to do was sprint over there, to help, to comfort Ilya but he knew he couldn’t. He had to let the professionals do their job. More yelling made Shane’s heart race.

The words were indiscernible. There were too many voices shouting, noisy machines whirring again, and Shane could just stand and watch. Every minute that passed felt like torture. He was sure that something was wrong, that he was losing Ilya. He didn’t even stop to fight the tears that were tumbling down his cheeks, but then-

Silence. Then a clear, strong voice.

“Get the backboard in here!”

Shane held his breath as he watched two paramedics running towards the wreckage, disappearing out of sight. Now that the machinery was switched off, Shane started to walk closer, whispering a prayer silently under his breath. He paused a few metres away from the plane and then finally…

Firefighters came out slowly, carrying Ilya on the backboard between them. It took six of them to support his weight, and Ilya was strapped to it around his chest and his thighs, the collar still wrapped around his neck. Aiden was next to Ilya, talking to him as he held the IV bags which were still delivering vital fluids and medication to the injured man. 

Shane ran over, swiping away his tears with the back of his hand, not pausing to think about the streaks of blood he was no doubt leaving on his face. He got to Ilya’s side and got himself into a free space, grabbing Ilya’s hand. His right arm was wrapped in some sort of brace and the sight of the bloody, mangled flesh made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Hey! Hey, Ilya, you’re out, oh my god. They’re going to take you to hospital-”

But Ilya wasn’t talking. He wasn’t even squeezing Shane’s hand. It was then that Shane realised Ilya had an oxygen mask over his face, and that the heart rate monitor was beeping rapidly. His fingers just laid there limply on his stomach, and Shane’s breath hitched, looking desperately at Aiden.

“He lost consciousness just before we moved him out. It’s his body reacting to the trauma. We expected this, Shane.”

“But- but he’ll wake up?”

Aiden didn’t answer him immediately, and Shane shivered violently.

“We’re going to do everything we can, Shane.”

It wasn’t a yes. Shane just fishmouthed for a moment, unable to say a single word. He thought that if they got Ilya out, that everything would be fine. Surely that was the hardest part.

But then the heart monitor beeped more loudly, and the firefighters put Ilya’s backboard heavily onto a stretcher. Aiden swooped into action, cutting the remains of Ilya’s tank top away, exposing his bare and bloodied torso as other medical personnel swarmed Ilya, pushing Shane out of the way.

“Blood pressure is falling, let’s get another line in-”

“I’m going to tube him, we need to protect the airway-”

There was a horrible long, monotone beep and Shane saw the way the medical professionals kicked into action.

“No pulse, starting chest compressions-”

Shane felt sick as he watched the medic nearest to Ilya start pressing on his chest in rapid succession, arms locked and driving down enough to shift Ilya’s body against the stretcher. It looked brutal, and Shane clapped a hand over his mouth, unable to look away. He stood frozen, every instinct screaming at him to do something, anything - but there was nothing left for him to do except watch. 

At the same time this was happening, someone else was putting a tube down Ilya’s throat, connecting a bag to it and squeezing intermittently to breathe for him. He didn’t know much in terms of medical care, but what he did know was that Ilya wasn’t breathing on his own.

"Rhythm check!"

The compressions stopped. Every eye snapped to the monitor but the line remained perfectly, brutally straight.

"Come on, Ilya..." Shane whispered, barely hearing his own voice as tears streamed down his face. "Don't do this."

The medic resumed pushing on Ilya’s chest, and this time, Shane couldn’t just stand there and watch the life ebb out of Ilya. He tried to force his way closer, but he was held back by a firefighter, fighting the hold until he realised it was pointless.

“You need to stay back. Let them work on him.”

“I need- need to be with him. He has no one else. I- I’m his only family.”

“You can be with him, when they’ve stabilised him. I know this is hard, but let them do their work, okay?”

When everything seemed to calm, the professionals began to work quickly. The stretcher was being wheeled across the grass as quickly as they could, the paramedics shouting to each other as the firefighters took on the brunt of the exertion. It was then that Shane spotted the medical helicopter in the next field, and he realised it was there for Ilya. 

He took off after the stretcher, but when he got closer to the helicopter, he was once again held back, crying as he watched them load Ilya’s lifeless body into the chopper, medical crew pulling headsets over their ears as the blades started to whirr, readying for take off.

“I- I need to go with him.”

“We’ll take you by road. They don’t have room for additional passengers,” said Gabby, the paramedic he’d met earlier on in the plane. “We won’t be far behind them. They need to get Ilya there as quickly as possible, Shane. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Shane nodded, and stood with a shaky hand pressed to his mouth as the door of the chopper slammed shut, closing off the view he’d had of Ilya. It felt almost surreal to watch t take off, Ilya moving further and further away from him. It was the longest they’d been apart since this had started, and Shane quickly turned, vomiting loudly onto the grass next to him.

“I’m so sorry-” he gasped, embarrassment flooding his veins but Gabby waved away his apology. “I just- I can’t lose him.”

Gabby handed him a cloth and Shane wiped his face, still shaking. “They’re doing all they can to help him, Shane. I know this is scary, but we need to take care of you as well. When Ilya wakes up, he’s going to need you to be strong for him.”

“Where are they taking him?”

“Winnipeg Health Sciences Centre. We can go there too, but you need to let us take care of you. We need to get that shoulder looked at, and get you some fluids and medication.”

Shane nodded reluctantly, and allowed Gabby to lead him over to the waiting ambulance. He got in and let her strap him onto the bed, taking his vitals before she even contemplated clearing them for transport. Another of her colleagues had gotten in behind the wheel, and she was just doing an ECG on Shane when he called out, asking if she was ready.

“You ready?” she asked Shane instead, and he nodded, grabbing at the blanket she’d laid on his legs with his still bloody hands. “Okay, Gavin, let’s go. Lights and sirens, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he called, and Shane jumped when the sirens blasted off, the ambulance finally heading away from the wreckage and towards the hospital.

Shane looked out of the back window as they pulled onto the highway, and he suddenly felt exhausted. He hadn’t had a chance to pause and take stock since he’d woken up and realised Ilya’s condition was life-threatening. Right now, there was only one voice aside from Ilya’s that he wanted to hear.

“Do you, uh, do you have a phone I can borrow?” he asked, and Gabby turned to him, nodding before she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. His shaking fingers tapped in the number he’d had memorised for years, and he held it to his ear as it began to ring.

“Hello?”

“Mom-”

Chapter End Notes

I won't keep you waiting for Chapter 10 for too long... promise. x

Chapter 10: I'll fight not to fall apart...

Chapter Summary

I don’t want to be sedated.

An update but not answers.

The world knows and I don’t care.

Chapter Notes

Ooh it's still going to hurt.

Sorry about that. No, really, I am.
x

The ambulance lurched to a stop, and the back doors flew open, noise immediately erupting around Shane. He felt overwhelmed as people called out, shouting things at each other so he clapped his hands over his ears and clamped his eyes shut. Everything was too much, but he cracked open his eyes to see Gabby stand up and step out of the ambulance, slamming the door shut behind her. Shane shut his eyes again and laid back down on the bed, trying to calm himself with his box breathing for a few minutes. 

When the door opened again, there was only Gabby, a doctor and a nurse waiting. She climbed aboard and the two others waited outside as she settled herself on the fold-down seat next to him.

“Shane, I’m really sorry about that. I can see that was completely overwhelming for you, and I’ve spoken to the staff, instructing everyone but two medical staff to go inside. Are you okay to let us take you in? We have a private room waiting for you.”

“But Ilya-”

“He’s here, but he’s in surgery, Shane. You can’t see him just now. When we get you inside, I’ll ask the doctors who treated him when he came inside to come and speak to you. Is that okay?”

Shane nodded, realising this was probably as good as he was going to get for now. “Yeah, okay. I- thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” She stood up and turned but then seemed to think better of it, turning and sitting back down again, looking gravely at Shane. “There is something you need to know. Not about Ilya-” she hurried to say, but then looked to the floor before meeting Shane’s eyes again. “Not directly.”

“What is it?”

“The crash. It made the news, because of course it did. But… so did you. And Ilya. I have a feeling that your mom didn’t want to tell you on the phone, but I felt it was best that you know. That you feel a bit prepared for whatever is going to come next. I’m really sorry this has happened, and that I have to be the one to tell you.”

Shane sighed, nodding his head, somehow unsurprised. It was ironic that they’d been dating secretly for years, but now, when they needed their privacy more than ever, they were some sort of breaking news story. He could only hope that the main headlines were focused on Ilya’s survival, not on their secret relationship.

“Thank you. I appreciate you being honest with me. Can we- can I get inside now, please?”

She smiled kindly at him, resting a hand on his forearm. “Sure. Give me a sec, okay?”

She was true to her word, because just a minute after stepping out of the ambulance, the doors opened again and Shane’s stretcher was being tugged out of the ambulance. He kept his head down as he was wheeled inside, nobody saying a word until he was taken into the private room, the door shutting behind him.

“Your parents are on their way. They called here and asked us to let you know they’re flying in. They should be here within a few hours.”

“What? How?”

The nurse looked pityingly at Shane. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any more details for you. If they call back, I’ll make sure to send the call through to your room. I need to get you into a gown, if that’s okay.”

“I, uh, my shoulder-”

“I know. I’m going to cut your shirt off so that we don’t have to move you too much. Your pants too, since I don’t think we’ll get those off without causing you significant pain.”

Shane nodded and shut his eyes as the nurse set about cutting his clothes away from his body, and it became apparent quite quickly that the adrenaline flooding Shane’s body had masked so many of his injuries. Yes, his shoulder was definitely dislocated, but there was a large cut across his abdomen, stretching around his side. The blood had dried by now but it looked a mess and was maybe deeper than Shane had expected. His legs were badly bruised, and his left ankle was so swollen, Shane couldn’t believe he hadn’t felt any discomfort from it before. 

“Okay. Before we get you into the gown, I think I’ll ask the doctor to come in and assess your injuries so we don’t need to take it off again. Is that okay with you?”

Again, Shane could only nod. This all felt unbelievably surreal, and if he was honest, Shane didn’t feel entirely coherent. He was left alone in the hospital room, and he could only bring himself to stare blankly out of the window, over the ambulance bay where three ambulances stood, unloading patients. 

“Shane Hollander?” His head snapped up as a tall, older man walked into the room, tapping on an iPad. “My name is Doctor Johnson. I’d like to examine you, would that be okay? I’d like my colleague Doctor Lee to observe and take notes, if you’re happy with that.”

“Sure,” Shane shrugged, just wanting to get this over and done with so that he could see Ilya. “Uh, I was told that someone would update me about my boyfriend, he was brought in by helicopter.”

“Name?”

“Uh, Ilya Rozanov.” The doctor tapped again on his iPad, frowning at the screen. “Just… is he alive?”

“He is,” the doctor confirmed with a brief nod. “He is in surgery. I’m just pulling up his records. Are you family?”

“Uh, I’m... I'm the closest thing he has to family. I'm his partner, and his emergency contact,” Shane said hurriedly, not wanting to be shut out because truthfully, Ilya didn’t have anyone else he’d call family, except for Shane’s own parents and maybe Svetlana, but he had no idea where she was right now. “Please, I- I was with him in the crash, and I just, I did what I could, I didn’t- oh fuck-”

“Breathe, Shane,” the doctor said, coming closer and slipping a nasal cannula around Shane’s face, sending oxygen up his nose. “Ilya is here, and he is in emergency surgery. I’m not going to tell you he’s out of the woods yet, because he isn’t, but you got him this far. You did the best you could in a terrible situation. Breathe for me, in and out slowly…”

When finally his breathing slowed down, Shane sighed and looked at the doctor. “Can we get this finished? I just- I want to get to him.”

“I just want to do a head to toe examination. I’m pretty sure you have a shoulder dislocation, we need to x-ray it before-”

“Closed reduction, I know. I don’t want to be sedated.”

“It’s incredibly painful.”

“I know. I’ve had it before, because of hockey. I’ll take pain medication, but I do not want you to put me under. Please.”

The doctors shared a look before Dr Johnson spoke again. “Fine. Let me complete my assessment and then we’ll sort your shoulder, and let you upstairs to see your partner.”

The exam was thorough, and Shane was unsurprised to hear they suspected he had a concussion. Again, it was nothing new to him due to the contact sport he played, and he promised the doctors he’d stay in hospital until they were certain he was okay. He wasn’t leaving without Ilya anyway, so saying he’d stay wasn’t a hardship.

The x-ray to his shoulder and ankle was thankfully quick, and it confirmed Shane’s fear- he had dislocated his shoulder, and quite badly. The ankle was just badly sprained, worse than it might have otherwise been because Shane had been moving around on it when he was in the plane with Ilya, but the doctors assured him rest and strapping would help it heal quickly.

He was taken for a closed reduction for his shoulder, the medication that was pumped into his veins through a cannula making him feel woozy as they got him into position. Despite the strong medication, it felt like Shane’s arm was being ripped off as they manipulated the joint back into place, a loud click telling Shane it was finally over. They strapped his arm to his chest, ordering Shane to stay in the sling for at least the next week.

“You don’t have any fractures, but there’s a lot of soft tissue and tendon damage. You need to keep that immobilised to let it heal. I know you know this as an athlete, but it’s vital you follow our instructions, Shane, if you want to return to full mobility.” He nodded. “We’ll get you back to your room and get those cuts cleaned and dressed.”

“Then-”

“Yes, then we will get you up to the surgical floor.”

*****

It was almost two hours later that Shane was finally able to get up to the surgical floor. Thanks to the pain medication he’d been given to reduce his shoulder, he wasn’t allowed to get there under his own steam, and was forced to allow a nurse to take him upstairs in a wheelchair, which Shane felt was entirely unnecessary. 

He was taken to a small waiting room, the door pulled closed behind the nurse as she exited. The room was almost eerily quiet, more quiet than Shane had experienced since before he’d boarded that godforsaken flight. The worst thing was that neither he or Ilya were meant to be on that plane. He was meant to have taken off hours before, and Ilya wasn’t due to fly until the following day.

But for some reason… they’d been dealt one final twist of fate when they’d both ended up on that plane, grinning secretly at each other as they boarded, neither aware of the horrors that lay ahead of them. In a way, Shane was grateful it had happened when he was there to support Ilya. Seeing him like that, slipping away from Shane minute by minute had been the worst time of Shane’s life, but the thought of Ilya being alone and going through that made him feel sick. At least Ilya hadn’t been by himself. He’d had Shane the entire time.

It felt like finally, the shock was starting to wear off. He’d stopped shaking, and the world had seemed to finally slow down. Sitting in that room, Shane realised how alone he was right now. His parents were on their way but right now, he had nobody. He had no phone to contact anybody, and he had no idea just how far this had spread online, or exactly what everyone knew. Not that it mattered. The only priority was Ilya. 

Shane just stared at the magnolia painted walls, stuck in the confines of the horribly uncomfortable wheelchair. Every time he allowed his eyes to close, he could see the crash replay over and over his mind. He, thankfully, didn’t remember everything. But he remembered the feeling when the plane was going down, how he’d gone to be with Ilya despite being yelled at to return to his seat. He remembered holding onto Ilya as the plane tumbled back to Earth in a sickening plummet. He remembered waking up, blinking at the sky, grateful to be alive.  He remembered-

A door opened, and Shane’s head snapped around, meeting the eyes of the surgeon, still in scrubs as she shuffled into the room.

“Family of Ilya Rozanov?”

Shane nodded and allowed her to come over. He couldn’t move thanks to his left arm being in a sling. “Shane Hollander. I’m Ilya’s partner. I was with him…” he trailed off, not feeling like he needed to say anymore. 

“We’re not finished with the surgery. It’s going to be a few more hours, I’m afraid. The orthopaedic surgeon is currently working on Ilya’s arm, so I’ve taken the opportunity to step out and speak to you. I’ve been informed you are Ilya’s next of kin?”

Shane nodded. They’d set it up during the summer at Shane’s cottage, Ilya happy for Shane to be the one to make decisions in case of emergency. It had seemed so hypothetical when they’d spoken about it, signing official paperwork, but now, the weight of responsibility felt heavy on Shane’s shoulders.

“Yes. I have paperwork, not here, but at home. In Montreal.”

“That’s fine, we can get that sorted. All I can say right now is that Ilya is stable. His condition is incredibly serious, but we are doing our best.”

“What are, uh, what are his injuries? I mean, I know his arm was pinned, and his leg-”

“There was a lot of blood loss. We have worked hard to get his blood pressure up, giving him additional units of blood. He suffered a punctured lung when he broke his ribs, which is why he was struggling with his breathing. At the moment, our main concerns are his arm and leg.”

“What about his head?”

“The cut was relatively superficial. We’ve stitched that up, and it should heal neatly. We suspect he will have a concussion, but as he is currently under sedation, we cannot assess this until he comes out of surgery.”

“Can you tell me about his arm? His legs, are they- are they fixable?”

The doctor let out a sigh, coming to sit in front of Shane as she spoke, leaning forward. “I’m going to be honest with you, Shane. His arm was trapped beneath the seats for a considerable amount of time. The bones of his forearm are badly fractured, and there are more fractures to his upper arm. More concerning is the damage to muscles, blood vessels and nerves. The pressure from being pinned for so long cut off the blood supply for an extended period of time.”

“His arm was dusky. Cold.”

She nodded. “Yes, because the blood could not flow to the limb. At this point, we consider this a crush injury. The surgeons are doing their best to save the arm, repairing the arteries and vessels, but we still don’t know how much viability we will have left. We’ve removed as much dead tissue as we can, and he’ll likely need more surgery over the coming days.”

Shane swallowed. “Be honest, please. Could he lose his arm?”

“Unfortunately, yes. If the tissue continues to die, and if we can’t maintain circulation to the limb, amputation will be the safest option to save Ilya’s life. At this point, we’re not there yet. Right now, we are doing everything we can to save his arm.”

“Fuck,” Shane cursed, wiping angrily at the tears he was crying yet again. “This isn’t fucking fair-”

“I know. But I assure you we have our best surgeons working on him, and we will truly do everything we can before we get to that point.”

Shane shut his eyes, nodding slowly. “Okay. And what about his leg?”

"The fracture is just above the knee and extends into the joint. His tibia is also broken lower down. They're complex fractures, but they're injuries we can usually repair with plates, screws, and rods once he's stable enough. The concern isn't whether the bones will heal, because we expect they will over time, but there is considerable damage to the surrounding soft tissues, including in Ilya’s hip.”

“Shit. I don’t believe this. Walking? Will he walk?”

“I genuinely don’t know.”

The honesty landed harder than anything else, and Shane’s shaking hands came up to cover his face. “I’m so sorry, I just- we weren’t supposed to be on that plane. And now I might lose him-”

“Shane, Ilya is in the best place. He’s here, and we’re taking the best care of him, okay? The next twenty four to forty eight hours are going to be critical for him. We’re going to watch him closely for bleeding, infection, blood clots and any further complications from the accident. He’s fighting hard right now, and so are we. He needs you to be strong and fight with him.”

"...Can I see him?"

She nodded, getting to her feet. "As soon as we’ve finished and he's stable enough to be transferred to intensive care, yes. He'll still be on a ventilator and heavily sedated. There will be a lot of tubes and monitors, and he won't be able to respond to you yet."

She stood, offering him a tired but reassuring smile.

“I’ll come back out and update you as soon as I can. Can I get you anything in the meantime?”

“No, I- I’m good. But thank you,” Shane said, and she smiled, turning and walking out of the room, back to Ilya. Shane could only sit there and watch her go. To let her take care of the man he loves. All he could do was wait. 

An hour later

The door flew open and banged into the wall, and Yuna and David Hollander came barrelling into the room. Yuna, usually so well turned out, looked a mess, and David looked like he’d been crying, but Shane had never been more grateful to see two people in his life.

“Oh, my darling,” Yuna said as she fell to her knees in front of Shane’s wheelchair, pulling him into a hug.  He grimaced at the pain in his still healing shoulder, but he leaned into her hug, screwing his eyes shut as he started to cry again. “I’m sorry we took so long, but we’re here now. Oh, look at you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Concussion, dislocated shoulder. It’ll heal. I’m fine. But Mom, Ilya-” he choked back his words, looking at his dad with wet eyes. Yuna carefully got to her feet and David wheeled Shane over so he was in front of the chair that Yuna was now sitting in, settling on the empty one next to her. Shane just sat in his wheelchair opposite them, relief flooding his body that he wasn’t alone anymore. They both held hands as they continued to look at Shane, desperate for news.

“Tell us, son. We’re here, no matter what happens.”

“He’s in surgery,” Shane began, voice wobbling and unsteady now he was in the company of people he didn’t need to be strong for. This time, there were people here for him, supporting him. “It’s bad, Mom. They said he- fuck, that he might lose his arm. It was pinned in the crash, and it was going dusky, I- I couldn’t get him out. I tried, but he was trapped-”

A loud sob broke from Shane then, and finally, all of the fear, the pain, the utter horror of what he’d been through hit him like a tonne of bricks. He’d had to keep it together up until  now, to push all of his fears aside to focus on Ilya, but here, in the safe haven of his Mom’s arms, Shane fell apart. He sobbed loudly, noisily, as she held him tightly, his dad coming around to hug from the side, all of them crying and holding each other.

He wasn’t sure how long he cried for. All Shane knew was that when he was done, his throat was sore, his eyes ached and he felt exhausted to his core. It was sadness and fear in a way he’d never felt before in his life. Up until that point, he’d been in denial about Ilya, about how bad his situation was. 

“I can’t lose him, Mom. I- I love him too much to say goodbye. We have so much planned, a life together…”

Yuna kept stroking his hair as Shane leaned his head against her shoulder, supported by her embrace. 

“I know, Shane. But he’s got this far, that’s got to be a good sign. And if there’s one thing we know about your Ilya, it’s that he’s a fighter. There’s no way he’d want to leave you behind, Shane. Not when you’re both finally so happy together.”

Shane pulled away, giving Yuna a wobbly smile. “We’re getting married.”

“What?!” David said, shock and delight evident on his face despite the dire situation they were in. “When did this happen?”

“I told him I’d bought a ring when we were waiting for someone to come and rescue him,” Shane revealed, remembering how easily Ilya had said yes, how happy he’d looked in that moment despite the terror of everything going on around them. “Everything felt… really bad. I ended up telling him that I was going to ask him to marry me, and he just… he said yes. So that’s why he has to be okay. Because I want him to be my husband, and I want to be his. I have a whole life planned with him.”

They both nodded, finally getting up from the floor and settling in chairs on either side of Shane. Yuna held Shane’s free hand, rubbing her thumb back and forth methodically. 

“Tell me what the doctors said about you, please.”

Shane gave them enough detail so that they understood his condition, but also that he wasn’t anywhere near as badly injured as his fiance was. Yuna inspected each of the newly stitched cuts on Shane’s head, as well as ensuring he was comfortable in his sling. 

“And they think you can still play hockey?”

Shane nodded, but truthfully, hockey was the last thing on his mind right now. “Yeah, but not for weeks. To be honest, until I know if Ilya can play again, I can’t even begin to think about it.”

Yuna and David nodded, but Shane could see the look they quickly shared, perhaps thinking he wouldn’t notice. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a concussion but I’m not stupid. I saw that look. What are you not telling me?”

Much to Shane’s surprise, it was David who spoke first.

“After the crash, there was a lot of attention. People were taking photos, videos, and posting them online. Nothing macabre but just… you know what it’s like. And, uh, they recognised you. And Ilya.”

Shane felt a cold shiver travel through his entire body as it started to dawn on him what had happened. “Right. The paramedic said something but she didn’t give me any details. What did they see?”

Yuna and David again shared a look before Yuna spoke, her voice soft and careful, as if she was scared Shane was going to break.

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

She nodded. “Someone was filming you comforting Ilya. You can’t hear anything being said, it’s too far away. But it’s clear that you’re… more than friends.”

Then he said the words he meant wholeheartedly. “I don’t care.”

David blinked. “Shane-”

“No. I don’t care.” He laughed quietly, rubbing his hands over his face. “You think after everything we've been through, this is what I'm supposed to be scared of? People talking?”

“It isn't just people talking,” Yuna said gently. “Your sponsors. The press. The League. There'll be headlines, Shane. Interviews. Questions.”

Shane just scoffed. “Then let them ask, Mom. Let them write their articles. Let strangers sit behind screens and judge me and tell me who I should love. Let them make videos, memes, whatever. I genuinely couldn't care less.”

He stared at the door, willing the doctor to return, to update him on Ilya. Any news would be better than nothing. 

“For a few hours…” His voice caught before he forced it steady again. “For a few hours, I thought I was going to lose him. I was sitting next to him, holding his hand, thinking each breath was going to be his last. That I’d never get another chance to tell him that I love him.”

He stood up carefully, taking his weight on his good leg before he wandered over the window, staring out wordlessly for a minute before he spoke again.

“I've spent years worrying about the expectations of others. Winning games. Being a good Captain. A good role model. Saying the right thing to every camera they forced me to stand in front of.” He smiled bitterly. “Turns out all it took was nearly losing him for me to realize how unbelievably unimportant all of that is.”

He turned back to his parents, seeing tears glistening in their eyes as he stood tall, ready to show his defiance to the world, all for the man he loved.

“If the world wants to know if I love Ilya… then yes, I do. And I’m damn proud of it. Of being his.”

He watched Yuna and David holding hands in front of him, and he said his next words quietly, just for the three of them.

“The only thing that matters right now is him. As long as he wakes up. As long as he’s okay. As long as he’s al-” Shane choked back tears yet again, sniffing before he carried on. “As long as he’s alive… then the rest of the world can say what it wants. He’s my fucking everything. Without him-” 

He swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence because the ending was too unbearable to imagine.

“There is no me without him.”

Chapter End Notes

As always, thank you for all the kind words and support. Chapter 11 will be here soon. x

Chapter 11: Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again...

Chapter Summary

Do they hate us?

Can you hear me?

Not done loving you…

Chapter Notes

The comments so far have been so wonderful. I’m so glad you’re enjoying this story. Thank you for all your kind words. ❤️

So much still to come for our poor Shane, and Ilya too…

It was around half an hour later that Shane was finally calm enough to hear his parents out. He’d gone on his rant about loving Ilya and then had all but collapsed into a chair, exhaustion taking hold. Yuna had almost gone to fetch a doctor but Shane had insisted he was okay, that all he wanted was to stay here and wait for news of Ilya. It was only when he threatened to get her removed that she stopped pushing him, sitting down and understanding that Shane very much needed control here and he was going to take it in whatever way he needed to.

Shane cleared his throat. “So. Tell me everything.”

“I think that can wait-”

“Yuna, come on. He’s an adult, he knows what he’s asking.”

Shane sighed, shaking his head. “He’s also sitting right fucking here, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking about me like I’m not. I want to know because when Ilya wakes up, I want to be able to explain it to him.”

That was another thing Shane had decided. It was a matter of when Ilya woke up, not if he woke up. There was no way he could contemplate participating in life when Ilya wasn’t part of it. So quite simply, Shane had made the decision that Ilya was going to be absolutely fine. It might take a lengthy stay in hospital but they could get through that together. Shane was going to be on the IR list indefinitely anyway, so it would be a good excuse to help take care of his boyf- no, fiance, he corrected mentally with a small smile.

He watched on as Yuna reached into the large handbag she carried everywhere, pulling out her iPad. She unlocked it with her passcode (Shane’s birthday, which he kept nagging her to change because really, that was too obvious) and pulled up a few apps before she made to hand it over to Shane, hesitating when the device was just out of his reach.

“I- it’s a lot, Shane. How about I tell you what I’ve seen first, then I’ll give you the iPad and let you read things?”

He nodded, thinking it sounded like a good compromise. Either way, he was going to be able to find out what was being said.

“Okay. So obviously, the crash hit the news pretty quickly. Not surprising because these things don’t happen often, and people filmed it happening. They posted it online, and of course it was picked up and it didn’t take long for it to be breaking news all over Canada.”

Shane just sat there, listening and fiddling with the tie of the hideous hospital gown he was still wearing. He’d begged them to allow him to change, but they said until he’d had another x-ray on his arm, they’d rather he didn’t. Shane had only agreed so they would leave him be. 

“It was other people who had been on the plane that exposed you. I really don’t think they intended to. They were filming inside the wreckage, sharing what it was like, what they could see. It wasn’t just you and Ilya they caught sight of. There were other people too, people with injuries…” she trailed off, glancing at David before she continued. “But they zoomed in on you two. I don’t think people realised who you were at first.”

Shane just stared at his mom. “What did they see?”

“It wasn’t anything… explicit. It was more the way you acted. It was clear that you were more than friends.”

“Show me?”

Yuna sighed and unlocked her iPad again, pulling up a tweet rather quickly, meaning she must have had it bookmarked and ready. Wordlessly, she handed it over to Shane, and he pressed play. The video was silent, panning around to show the wreckage, and really, it was the first time that Shane was understanding just how horrific it had been. It was a wonder anybody had been able to walk away from it. 

After a few more seconds, there they were. The footage was a little shaky, probably because the person filming it was still in shock. Initially, the shot was so zoomed out it just looked like two people comforting each other. But then… it zoomed in, and Shane knew there was definitely no denying it was them. Their faces were pressed close together, lips moving as they spoke to each other… Shane only wished he could remember what they might’ve been saying.

But it was the touches that were the biggest giveaway. Shane’s hand was wrapped around Ilya’s, holding it tightly before it trailed up to his face, cupping his cheek. The touch was so tender it almost made Shane’s heart ache to watch it. Ilya was crying softly, and Shane was brushing his tears away, leaning forward until their foreheads met, barely an inch of space between them. Then… the one undeniable thing… the kiss. Tender, gentle.

The worst part for Shane wasn’t knowing that millions of people had watched this. It was watching himself.  Watching the pain and fear etched on his own face, the way Ilya’s eyes never left Shane, the way his hands were shaking the entire time. Now he was watching it, Shane could see that the love between them was painfully obvious. It hadn’t been a performance. It had been for nobody but themselves. For two people who thought that they were saying goodbye forever.

It should never have left the confines of the wreckage. It wasn’t meant for anyone else. It should have stayed there in the wreckage of the plane, with the two people experiencing heartbreak in such a visceral way. Instead, the whole world was now witness to it. They’d seen Ilya crying and reaching for Shane, they’d seen Shane desperately trying to offer some sort of comfort. Something so raw, so intimate, so painfully theirs had become public. Their agony no longer belonged to them. It belonged to millions of strangers who would never understand what it had cost to live through it.

Shane hadn't even realized tears were slipping down his own face until David quietly stepped beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into the touch and just closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. David’s presence was steady and welcome, and Shane knew that this love wasn’t conditional. It didn’t matter what he did, no matter what happened with his career now - he would always have his parents, and he’d never felt so supported before just by having them by his side right now.

He pulled away, wiping at his eyes with the heels of his hands, almost hurting his eyes with the pressure he applied against them. “Fuck. That’s it, then.”

Neither of his parents answered.

“Do they hate me? Do they hate us?” He didn’t wait for them to answer before he carried on. “I said I don't care and I mean it. I don't. Ilya matters so much more to me than the opinion of strangers but... they saw everything. Fuck, even I can’t deny what I saw. It’s so obvious how much we love each other. They saw us… at our  most vulnerable.” 

He swallowed, looking down at his lap.

“They saw that the only thing I could think about was making sure he wasn't alone if he died."

“Oh, Shane…” Yuna breathed, grabbing Shane’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “Look, honey. People are going to talk. Let them. Some people won't understand. Some people never were going to understand. And that’s not for you to fix, okay? That’s their problem."

“But… they saw us being… us. They saw me comfort him, touch him, fuck, I kissed him-”

David leaned in, resting a firm hand on Shane’s knee. "You kissed the man you thought you were about to lose. Nobody can ever judge you for that."

“So… what do I do now?”

“What do we do now,” Yuna corrected gently, making sure Shane knew he wasn’t alone in this. As they’d always been, they were a team. Shane looked between his parents, seeing nothing but love. He’d never felt less like the man he usually was - a professional athlete, someone used to cameras and questions and pressure. Right now he was just someone's son, someone’s fiance, a man terrified that the life he'd known had disappeared in the space of a few minutes.

“Firstly, we wait for news on Ilya. Then we support him in his recovery, whatever that looks like for him. Then, when he’s ready, you two get to decide what you do from here. Together.” 

Shane nodded, giving Yuna a wobbly smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You never have to thank me, honey. I’m always going to be here for you. For both of you.” She came closer, kissing Shane’s forehead gently, an echo of the way Shane had done the same thing to Ilya, laying on the ground, willing his boyfriend to live. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Three hours later

Shane’s head snapped up as finally, the door to the waiting room opened again, and the doctor who had spoken to him before walked inside, still in her surgical scrubs. This time, though, she’d removed her hair covering, and a stethoscope was hanging around her neck. Shane just stared at her, willing her to say something as her face wasn’t giving anything away.

“The surgery is complete,” she said, her tone cautious as she looked between them. “Am I okay to speak in front of them?”

Shane nodded. “They’re my parents, Ilya would be happy for them to hear anything you have to say. Is he- is he alive?”

Thankfully, she gave a small smile and nodded. “He survived the surgery, yes. There is still extensive damage to his right arm that we will need to monitor closely. We’ve also managed to put plates and rods into his leg, but this is going to need further surgery as his recovery progresses. I’m afraid he isn’t out of the woods by any means.”

The next words tumbled from Shane’s lips, the ones he’d be wanting to say for so long. “Can I see him? Please? I- I need to see for myself that he’s alive.”

“We’re just taking him through to the ICU. When we have him situated, we can bring you through. I would usually only allow one visitor, but since you’re currently wheelchair dependent, I will allow two.”

Shane’s head swivelled quickly to look at his mom, and she just nodded, knowing what he was going to ask. “Okay, thank you. Fuck, thank you so much.”

“Shane. I need you to listen to me carefully. I realise that Ilya making it through surgery has given you a little hope, but I also need you to understand that Ilya is still critically unwell. I’m going to be honest with you here, because I think that is what you need from me.”

He nodded, gripping Yuna and David’s hands as he braced himself for the worst.

“The injuries to his right arm are… well, catastrophic. Our orthopaedic team has done everything they can to restore blood flow and repair the damage, but the tissue has been without circulation for a significant period of time. We won't know for several days whether we were successful. There is still a very real possibility that he will lose his arm. And because of the extent of the trauma to his pelvis and lower spine, there is also a significant risk that he may never regain full function in his legs."

The room seemed to spin, and Shane felt David hold his hand tighter, shuffling closer to him.

“There's something else you need to prepare yourself for. Ilya has been through a very traumatic accident. You have to prepare yourself for the fact that he may not wake up at all. I know that this will be devastating to hear, but I have to prepare you for every possibility.”

When Shane spoke, his voice was raw with emotion, and his heart was heavy in a way he’d never experienced. He wanted all of this to stop hurting so much. This couldn’t be real. Not when they had so much to look forward to.

“You’re telling me the man I love survived this fucking awful crash and now I- I might lose him anyway? No. I- no, he has to be okay. I- I need- I need to see him, please-”

Shane tried to stand but his legs buckled. David was only just able to catch him but Shane was desperately clawing at him, his breaths coming fast and shallow, making him panic.

“Don’t let him die- I can’t do this without him, please- I need him, he’s my fucking life, please-”

“Shane, Shane, you need to breathe,” Yuna said, and she placed both of her palms on Shane’s cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Shane. We have to focus on right now. And right now, Ilya is alive. We have to take this one step at a time, okay? I know what the doctor just said is a lot. But we can’t focus on the bad things that might happen. We have to show up for Ilya, support him and whatever happens… we’ll deal with it together. Do you hear me?”

Shane managed a small nod. “I really need to see him, Mom. Please.”

Yuna looked at the doctor, an icy stare that Shane had been on the receiving end a few times when he’d shown poor judgment. “Can we make that happen? I think my son needs to see his partner as soon as possible.”

“Let me go and find out how he’s doing in the ICU. I’ll come back and update you.”

She left them alone, and the three Hollanders sat in silence, trying to let everything sink in. Shane wasn’t naive. He knew that the accident was bad, that Ilya’s condition was serious. He’d sat beside him as he’d watched the life ebb away slowly from the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and Shane was just so grateful that Ilya had been strong enough to make it this far.

He wouldn’t give up on him. Not now. Not when they were so close to having their happy ending. Right now, the rest of the world didn’t matter. He didn’t care what anonymous faces on the internet thought about his relationship. He didn’t care if the league wanted to sanction him, or Ilya, or both of them. Because nothing mattered more right now than making sure Ilya was going to wake up.

He didn’t notice the door open, or the doctor stepping inside.

“I can take you to see him. Only two of you.”

“I’ll wait here,” David said quickly, nodding at Shane. “I’ll see him next time. Tell him that we love him, okay?”

Shane allowed Yuna to push his wheelchair down the corridor, following the lead of the doctor. They stepped inside an elevator, going two floors down from the surgical floor. There was an odd hush when they walked out, and they paused outside a room, the door shut.

“You can touch him and talk to him. All we can ask is that you don’t interfere with any of the medical equipment. He has a number of lines, drains, monitors, and tubes in place, and each one is serving an important purpose in supporting him while he is recovering. He is on a ventilator so that we can breathe for him right now, and we've also kept him under deep sedation to reduce the demands on his brain and allow his injuries the best possible chance to heal.”

“Jesus…” Yuna muttered, and Shane looked at the closed door, almost filled with a sense of dread for what he was about to see.

“It looks frightening, but everything you see is there to support him. None of it means he's suffering. Right now, this is exactly what intensive care is designed for - to give his body every possible chance to recover."

“Will he… will he be able to hear me?”

“Patients have woken from comas and been able to recall the voices of their loved ones,” the doctor said simply. “I think talking to him can only be a good thing. Remind him that he has something to fight for. Someone to come back to. Don’t be afraid to hold his hand and tell him that you’re there with him.”

With that, she turned around, leaving Yuna and Shane alone in the corridor. Yuna walked around and crouched in front of her son.

“Are you ready for this?”

“No. But I want to be. I need to see him. I need to- to touch him.”

“Then let’s go in, honey.”

She stood and turned the wheelchair around, backing into the room. Shane held his breath as she turned him again and finally… there was Ilya.

“Oh my god,” Shane muttered as she moved him closer to the side of the bed. Shane had thought he’d seen the worst of it when he’d watched Ilya trapped in the wreckage, his body pinned by grotesque twists of metal. But this… Ilya was almost unrecognisable like this. He was surrounded on all sides by machines, wires and tubes protruding from all areas of his body, monitors displaying information Shane had no hope of understanding. 

“Hold his hand, Shane,” Yuna encouraged, and she pushed his chair as close as she could, on Ilya’s right. Shane could barely see the arm the medical team were trying desperately to save, but he thought that maybe that was for the best right now. All of this was confronting enough. “You won’t hurt him, honey.”

“I- I’m scared,” Shane whispered, silent tears falling as he took in the sight of his fiance so battered and bruised, fighting for his life. “Mom, I can’t do this-”

“You absolutely can, and you will do this, Shane Hollander,” she stated firmly, coming and kneeling by his side. She reached up and gently brushed the tears from Shane's cheeks. "I know you're scared," she said, her own voice trembling despite the steadiness she was trying so hard to project. "God, sweetheart, so am I. But he needs you right now."

“I can’t lose him.”

“You don’t know that you are. He’s here right now, isn’t he? You got him this far, Shane. Now you have to support him the rest of the way.”

“He’s still in there,” she continued, her voice a little softer now. “Ilya has fought through every difficult thing his life has thrown at him. Losing his mom, his terrible relationship with his father, leaving Russia. I know him, and so do you. There’s no way he’d get through all of that and finally find happiness with you only to give up now. That’s not-”

“My Ilya would never give up,” Shane finished with a wobbly smile. “I’m not giving up on him, Mom.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she said quietly, looking at Ilya, “and neither is he.”

Yuna took a few steps back, giving Shane a modicum of privacy to be with his boyfriend.

Shane reached out a shaking hand and rested it on top of Ilya’s. His skin was warm, much warmer than it had been when he’d been trapped in the wreckage of the plane, and just that simple fact filled Shane with a tiny glimmer of hope. He wrapped his fingers cautiously around Ilya’s, bringing his arm closer to the edge of the bed.

“Hey Ilyusha…” he started, his mouth dry, mind running at a million miles an hour, wondering what to say. He’d never been short of conversation when he was around Ilya, but it felt different now, the weight of the one-sidedness of it heavy on his shoulders. “I’m here, Ilya. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Shane heard a click and turned to see that Yuna had slipped outside, leaving the two of them alone for the first time since they’d been laying on the ground together hours ago. 

“I don’t know if you can hear me. The doctor says you probably can, but… I don’t know. I like to think that you can. That even if you’re asleep, you know I’m here. Because I love you so fucking much, Ilya, and I just… I want you to know that I need you to be okay, because we’ve only just fucking started this life together, okay?”

“We haven’t gotten married yet, we haven’t had a chance to grow old together and annoy the shit out of each other. I mean, I know you annoy the shit out of me every day, but I want to feel that way for the rest of my life. We haven’t chosen our forever home, or… fuck, I don’t know. We haven’t done any of the things I can’t wait for and that you’d call boring and god, I want to do all the boring things with you.”

“I hope you can hear me, Ilya, because I need you to fight, okay? You need to fight as hard as you possibly can, because I’m going to be here for you every single second. I’ll sit here until they kick me out, and even then, I’ll keep coming back. And you just have to meet me halfway. You have to pull through this. You need to come back to me.”

He leaned forward until his forehead rested softly on the back of Ilya’s hand, only shifting to press his lips to it, whispering words against his warm skin.

“You once told me that I was your home. That wherever I was, that you were home. But you’re my home too. You need to wake up so I can spend every day showing you how loved you are. So that we can build a life together, have a family. I- I need you, Ilya. I need you so much it fucking terrifies me.” He paused, steading himself for a moment. 

“So come back to me, please, Ilya. Because I’m not done loving you yet. Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Chapter End Notes

Next up…

Shane has some visitors… 👀
Surprise support is always welcome.

Chapter 12: Holding on to so much more than I can carry...

Chapter Summary

Online reactions.

Support network established.

Your fake name doesn’t fool me...

Chapter Notes

I appreciate so much every comment and share of this fic. I know it's painful now, believe me. I cried writing this at several times. But hold on to the tags, people.

This is an emotional ones with lots of reunions...

Enjoy. xx

“We’ve put security at the entrance to the floor, and to the ICU,” Yuna said later that night, when Shane had been forced back to his own bed to rest. He’d begged to stay with Ilya but the doctor had explained that Ilya was going to need him at full strength if he woke up, so Shane needed to take care of himself while they looked after Ilya. Shane only agreed after leaving them both of his parents phone numbers, making them promise to call if anything changed overnight. “And I’ve replied to the emails from the League, telling them you’ll be in touch at an appropriate time.”

Shane’s stomach dropped. “They’ve been in touch already?”

“I’m telling myself it’s out of concern for their two best players,” Yuna replied with a small smile. “I was quite insistent that they leave you alone for now.”

“And… What's being said? On social media, about me and Ilya.”

David spoke up then, which surprised Shane. Usually, he wasn’t a big fan of social media, but he had a feeling both of his parents were stepping up right now. “Like I said before, son. Let them talk. But… your mom and I thought you should see what some of your fans have done.”

Shane frowned and took the phone from his dad, looking down at the trending page on Twitter. Personally, Shane thought it was the worst of all the social media sites, but as he took in the trending hashtags, he realised that sometimes, it could have a lighter side.

#WeStandwithShaneandIlya was the world number one trend right now, as well as their own names trending just underneath. Apparently, the clips of Shane sitting by Ilya’s side, offering love and comfort had gone viral in the few hours since it had been released, and was continuing to gain traction as people realised they were not only seeing a relationship reveal happen in real time, but that it was apparently some sort of love story as well.

When Shane clicked into the hashtag, his hand drifted to cover his mouth as he read the kind words aimed at them both. But more than that, it was the millions of supportive words for Ilya, willing him to be strong and to pull through, not just for himself but for Shane as well. He read a few of the tweets.

Kelsey @tasty_tarts_please31: I came here because I saw the clips. I stayed because my heart absolutely broke for them. You can see how terrified Shane is and how much he loves Ilya. Please keep fighting, Ilya. The whole world is behind you. ❤️ #WeStandwithShaneandIlya

Emma @glimmer_bunny: I've never seen someone look at another person the way Shane looks at Ilya. That's real love. Really hoping Ilya wakes up and gets to see just how many people are rooting for him. #WeStandwithShaneandIlya ❤️

Marie @I<3bacon: I don't even know these two personally and I'm sat here crying. The way Shane just stayed with him, held his hand and kept talking to him... you can tell how much he loves him. Please pull through, Ilya. #WeStandwithShaneandIlya

But it was the final one he read that broke Shane.

Sylwia @justthingsifind: I hope one day Ilya gets to see the way Shane never left his side. Not once. Everyone deserves someone who loves them like that. Please let them have their happy ending. ❤️ #WeStandwithShaneandIlya

Because that was all Shane wanted. A happy ending with Ilya. That Ilya would know that Shane had been there and hadn’t left. David took the phone and Shane sank into his embrace again, crying against his shoulder. David just rubbed his back, letting Shane cry it out until his eyes felt raw and like he had nothing left.

They only parted when a noise erupted outside the door, the shouts getting louder. The three Hollanders exchanged glances, and it was Yuna who got up, heading towards the door of Shane’s room. He was in a different ward now, and whatever ruckus was going on was going to disturb other patients trying to sleep. She slipped out of the door, and somehow, Shane wasn’t surprised when his door burst open seconds later.

He locked eyes with Hayden and just seconds later, Hayden was holding him tightly, knelt on the side of Shane’s bed. His hug was much tighter than either David or Yuna’s, and although it made Shane’s injured shoulder twinge in pain, he didn’t let go of Hayden, gripping the back of his sweater in a tight fist, taking the comfort wherever he could get it.

“Fuck, man-” Hayden said brokenly when he finally pulled away, sitting on the side of the bed. Yuna and David had quietly slipped out of the room, leaving the two best friends alone. “I… when I saw everything and realised that you and Ilya were in that… fuck. I’ve never been so damn scared in my life.”

“For me or for both of us?” Shane asked, but he was shocked by the glare Hayden gave him in reply.

“Shane. I might act like I don’t like Ilya. But it’s because that’s our dynamic. I would never wish for anything to ever happen to him. Especially not this.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I know that you wouldn’t wish that on anyone-”

Hayden just shook his head, looking at Shane. “I don’t think you do. Shit, I- I’ve watched the two of you for years hiding what you have together. I’ve watched the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention. I’ve watched him quietly make sure that you’ve eaten without making it a big deal because he knows you can’t handle that. I’ve-”

“Hayden-”

“No, let me finish. I’ve watched him bring you down from a panic attack with just a touch, a few whispered words. Something nobody else has ever been able to do. The idiot fucking adores you, Shane. You know what the first thing I saw was when I went onto social media?”

Shane just shook his head.

“It was a photo of your face looking at someone. You looked broken, Shane. Like someone who’d had the ground ripped out from underneath him. I didn’t even need to hear his name or see his face to know it was Ilya you were looking at. And seeing you like that, in so much pain, and then seeing him so… fuck, Shane. My heart broke for you both.”

“I thought I was losing him,” Shane whispered, and Hayden just nodded.

“I know. And you know what? Somewhere along the line, Ilya became my family too. So I’m going to be here as long as it takes. You’re not alone, okay? I’ll be here for whatever you need, if it’s someone to take you up and down to the ICU to see him, someone to grab you lunch, someone to scream at when it all gets too much… I’m here. For both of you, okay?”

Shane let out a laugh, nodding.

“Good. And when Ilya wakes up… I’m going to deny that this conversation ever happened okay? Because if he finds out just how much I care about his Russian ass, then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Fuck, come here-” Shane said, and the two collided in a hug again. He spoke into Hayden’s shoulder, his words muffled by the clothing. “Can you stay?”

“I’m absolutely staying,” Hayden confirmed, patting Shane’s back and pulling back. “Your parents told me which hotel they’ve booked into, and I’m there as well. We’re going to make sure you aren’t alone here.”

“What about Jackie-”

“She’s good. She’ll be fine, her family is around. She’s the one who booked my flight out here while I packed. And the team is flying out tomorrow. Oh, and Cliff Marleau has been in touch with me.”

“Fuck.”

“He’s not mad, man. Some of the Raiders want to come out and support you guys. They want to be here for their Captain. And for you.”

For a moment, Shane didn’t know what to say. For so long, the only people that he’d trusted with the secret of his love for Ilya were his parents, Hayden and Ilya’s best friend Svetlana. Now, it wasn’t just their secret anymore. The world knew, and that included both his and Ilya’s teammates. People who apparently wanted to support them even though all they’d done for the past 8 years was lie to them.

“I… this doesn’t feel real. We worked so fucking hard to protect ourselves, Hayd.”

“None of that matters right now, Shane. All you have to focus on is getting better, and getting Ilya through this. Fuck, I haven’t even asked how you are. And don’t just tell me you’re fine because I know that’s not true.”

“I dislocated my shoulder. They reduced it but it still fucking hurts. They said it’s probably because it was out for so long and I… I wasn’t exactly careful when I was with Ilya. I have some cuts but they’ll heal. And my ankle is fucked, but it’s nothing. I really am fine.”

“Just forgetting about the concussion, are you?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “I’ve had them before, Hayd. It’s not a big deal. I told them I was fine to stay with Ilya tonight but they wouldn’t let me. I said that I could stay, because someone is allowed to stay in the ICU with him. But they told me I had to rest… how the fuck do they expect me to rest when the man I love is in a fucking coma two floors away from me-”

Yuna slipped back into the room then, coming to sit on the other side of Shane’s bed. 

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s upstairs with Ilya. He's staying with him tonight, I’ll do tomorrow, then Hayden will do the day after. We’ll make sure he’s not alone, Shane. I know you’re his family, but he’s ours too. He stopped being just your boyfriend a long time ago, Shane. He’s just… one of us. And when Ilya wakes up, the first face he should see is someone who loves him.”

Hayden nodded at her words. “We’re going to make sure you don’t have to choose between staying by his side and looking after yourself any more, Shane. We’ve got you, and we’ve got him.”

The next afternoon

Shane held onto the armrests of the chair as David wheeled him around, keeping his gaze fixed in the distance. It was relatively quiet for the time of day, which Shane appreciated. He knew that people knew he was here, but pretty much everyone had been respectful and kept their distance, just giving him a passing nod if anything.

He’d been going stir crazy in his room and David had decided that Shane needed a break while Yuna stayed at Ilya’s side in the ICU. It was chilly outside but Shane didn’t mind. It reminded him that there was still a world out there waiting for him and Ilya, that life was moving on for some people even though he was stuck here in a nightmare.

“How do you feel about seeing the boys?” David asked, and somehow, Shane found it easier to talk now that his dad wasn’t looking at him. He felt like he could be honest.

“Nervous,” Shane shrugged, wishing he was better with words. “I mean, I’m okay with the Metros, I think. I know them and they know me. But the Raiders… I don’t know.”

“You know they’ve come to support Ilya, right? If they really hated the fact that he’s in a relationship with you then, well, they’d probably avoid being here at all. I get a feeling that Ilya only surrounds himself with good people, though.” David reached forward with one hand, clasping Shane’s good shoulder for a second. “And we’ll be right there, with Hayden. If anything happens that makes you uncomfortable, we’ll get you out.”

“Thanks, Dad,” he said, squinting slightly into the distance as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. There were patients milling around, some in wheelchairs like him, others shuffling along painfully. There were visitors, and for a moment, Shane realised that maybe there were other people like him, waiting for someone hurt in the accident. “Shit. Do we know how many others were hurt?”

“They haven’t released any information just yet,” David said, pulling Shane over towards a bench before he put on the brakes and sat next to his son. “I know that they were arranging for everyone to come here and get checked over, even if people weren’t too badly hurt.”

“I didn’t even think-”

“Nobody expected you to,” David said gently, his voice soothing Shane’s panic. “You’ve been through something awful… you’re still going through it. Your only focus right now needs to be on Ilya.”

Shane nodded, but he couldn’t speak. All he could picture in his mind was Ilya in that hospital bed, being kept alive by machines, his life in the hands of the doctors and nurses who were taking care of him. Shane couldn’t do anything. Everything was hopelessly out of his control, and he didn’t know how to even begin dealing with that.

“Excuse me-” a woman’s voice sounded from a little too far away to be recognized. 

“Sorry, my son doesn’t want to speak to anyone,” David said quickly, but the voice continued.

“We don’t want to disturb you, we’re sorry. We just… I think we were sitting next to your son on the plane…” 

The voice trailed off and Shane looked up slowly, recognition dawning on his face as he took in the faces of the older couple he’d been sitting next to on the plane before everything had gone wrong. 

“Oh my god…” he breathed out, his eyes immediately filling with tears when he saw nothing but concern on their faces. “Are you- are you both okay?”

The older woman shuffled forward first, crouching down in front of Shane and taking his hand. “Nothing time won’t fix, my dear. We…” she glanced at David and then back at Shane. “We were terrified for you when we watched you get out of your seat.”

Shane just nodded, letting the tears fall as the memories flooded back to him, how desperate he’d been to get to Ilya, to not allow him to be alone in that moment. “I- I couldn’t leave him. He was terrified-”

“We know, dear, we saw,” she said, her voice gentle as her hand held onto Shane’s. She gave him a soft smile that somehow told Shane she completely understood why he’d done what he did on the plane. “We saw it in your eyes when everything became chaotic. You weren’t thinking about yourself. You just… you had this look of terrifying determination.”

Her husband picked up her conversation, like this was something they’d done for their entire lives. Shane briefly wondered if he and Ilya were like that.

“It was like there was nothing that was going to keep you in that seat. I watched you get up into the aisle, and I didn’t know what to do. I knew it was dangerous, what you were doing, but there was no stopping you. I could see it on your face… you’d rather have faced the absolute worst right beside him than save yourself alone.”

A ragged sob broke out of Shane and he screwed his eyes shut, realising they’d put into words everything he’d been unable to. To hear a complete stranger voice the terrifying truth of those frantic, final minutes made it all painfully real. His shoulders were shaking violently as he relived it over and over, but they all waited quietly for him, giving him space to work through his feelings.

“I just…” he started, keeping his grip on her hand, hoping he wasn’t hurting her, “I didn't care if the plane broke apart. I didn't care if I didn't make it. I just... if it was the end, I couldn't let him die thinking he was all alone. I had to be holding him. I had to.”

She came forward then and wrapped her arms around him. Shane wasn’t usually a fan of affection, keeping that part of him for those who he loved and wanted close, but right there and then, he sank into her embrace, letting her hold him and take some of the weight he was carrying. She shushed him, gently carding her fingers through his hair. 

“How is he? Your partner?” she asked carefully, but Shane couldn’t speak. Thankfully, David was there and jumped in to answer.

“He’s in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. It’s touch and go. They’re doing absolutely everything they can to keep him here with Shane but he’s in a critical condition. They… they’re trying desperately to save his life. And all we can do is wait and hold onto hope.”

Shane watched her hand come up to cover her mouth, clearly shocked.

“Oh, goodness me. I’m so sorry.”

Shane just nodded. “Me too. But… I’m so glad that you’re okay.” He remembered what they’d told him on the plane. “Did you get to see your daughter, to meet your granddaughter?”

They both looked touched that he’d remembered that small detail, and they nodded, both smiling. “Yes, our daughter flew in to make sure we’re okay. We’re going back with her to Montreal tomorrow. She’s driving us. I- I don’t think I can get back on an airplane just yet.”

Everyone paused, realising how that probably applied to most of them sitting there. After a few minutes, the woman stood back up and tucked herself into her husband’s side, like she was returning to the place she belonged.

“We’ll give you some peace. But… we are so pleased you are okay. And your boyfriend-”

“Fiance,” Shane corrected with a soft smile, and he loved how they both looked delighted at his correction.

“Oh, how lovely. He will be in our prayers.”

Shane wasn’t religious but he appreciated the sentiment. He hugged both of them and wished them well before they headed off slowly together, letting out a long breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“How could people not see?” he asked, not really to anyone in particular, but just lost in his thoughts. “How could anyone not see how much I love him?”

David just sat silently at Shane’s side, a stoic presence, solid, dependable.

“I didn’t know that. That you got out of your seat, I mean. You put yourself in danger, Shane.”

It was the first time Shane had truly acknowledged what he’d done. How he’d put himself in harm’s way because he’d been so desperate to make sure Ilya wasn’t alone. And that he’d do it all again if Ilya needed him. 

“I know,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know I could’ve died. I know I was putting myself in danger. But I… there was no other choice for me. Not really. All I could think about was Ilya. The thought of him being alone in what I thought might be our final moments, of him thinking he was going to die without me there to hold him... that was a million times worse than the thought of the plane crashing. If it was the end of the world, I wanted my world to end next to him.”

David just nodded, reaching wordlessly for Shane’s hand.

“You’d have done it for Mom.”

David just nodded. “She’s my person.”

“And he’s mine.”

An understanding seemed to have developed between them then. They made their way back to the hospital in silence, but Shane knew David was thinking in that quiet, contemplative way he often did when his thoughts and feelings were bigger than he could handle. David’s phone signalled a text message had arrived and he sighed, patting Shane’s unharmed shoulder again.

“They’re here. The nurses have set them all up in the family room,” David said, folding the sweater he’d been wearing. “I can take you over there then I’m going to go upstairs and switch places with your mom for a bit, let her get something to eat.”

“I… I really appreciate you both staying with him. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us, Shane. We’d do it for you, so of course we’re doing it for him as well. Are you okay with this? Seeing all of them together, I mean.”

Shane just shrugged. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure. He knew they were there in a supportive capacity, because they cared about their captains, but the idea of coming face to face with them now they knew the truth, about him and his relationship with Ilya… he was terrified. Rationally, he knew he had no need to be worried. Hayden had promised him that their team didn’t care about not being told, they only cared that they were going to be okay. But still… there was a small part of Shane worried that over time, they’d grow to resent him for everything.

“I have to face them sometime so I might as well just rip off the band-aid,” Shane replied, smoothing out the t-shirt he was wearing. Hayden had stopped by Shane’s Montreal apartment before he’d flown out to Winnipeg and had packed a bag of clothes for him, and for Ilya as well. Shane was glad to be in his own clothes, even if getting in and out of his t-shirts was agony at the moment. He refused the strongest painkillers on offer as he wanted to make sure he always had a clear head in case Ilya needed him, but consequently, it was only taking the edge off the pain rather than numbing it entirely. 

“Hayden’s with them. You ready to go?”

Shane nodded and the two of them headed towards the family room. He smiled at a few nurses as he passed, and he was grateful when David paused outside the door of the room. He could hear the loud chatter inside, and he gripped the armrest of his wheelchair with his one good arm, making a quick decision.

“I’m walking in there.”

“Shane-”

“No, Dad, I need to do this. My ankle is fine. It’s not far. I just…” he just looked at his father, willing him to understand. “I’m their Captain. I need to do it my way.”

David nodded and put on the brakes of the chair before he came around to stand in front of Shane. He held out his hands and helped him to stand, taking Shane’s weight until he’d gotten his balance. When Shane nodded he stood back, in arms reach but letting Shane stand independently.

“I’ll be upstairs with your Mom. Go and see your team, son.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Shane alone. Shane reached for the door handle, pushed it down and stepped inside. It took a few seconds for anyone to notice he’d walked in, but when they did, a strange hush fell over the room. He just looked at the faces in the room, grateful they’d flown all this way just to see him.

“Hollzy, man, fuck-” J.J. said before he almost ran at Shane, hugging him. He knocked Shane’s arm brace but quickly adjusted his position before he pulled away, looking him up and down. “Dude… I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.”

The rest of the Metros then took the opportunity to greet their Captain, each of them hugging him and telling him they were grateful he was okay. A few remarked on the cuts and bruises they could see but he brushed off their concern, insisting it was nothing that wouldn’t heal. Eventually, he’d greeted all of his teammates that had turned up, and he moved to greet the other side of the room.

Cliff Marleau came up to him first, and Shane suddenly felt nervous. He knew Ilya valued Cliff’s friendship and that he’d struggled with his decision to not tell Marleau about their relationship, and all Shane could hope was that Cliff wasn’t going to hold it against them. He needn’t have worried.

“How is he?”

Shane knew he couldn’t lie. “He’s on life support. They… he’s had surgery on his arm, his leg and hip. They can’t tell us for sure what’s going to happen.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. I- I did my best, I tried to get him out-” Shane screwed his eyes shut, determined not to cry in front of another team, in front of people he hadn’t learnt to trust just yet. These were Ilya’s people, not his. “I didn’t leave.”

Cliff reached out, resting his hand on Shane’s uninjured shoulder. “I’ve known Ilya for a long time, Hollander. Long enough to know that he’d have done the exact same thing for you. Don’t apologise for not being able to do the impossible.”

Shane just nodded, clenching his jaw.

“You stayed. When everything went to hell for the two of you, you stayed. You didn’t let him face that alone. I don’t know what’s going to happen or what he’s going to remember if he wakes up-” Cliff’s voice cracked then, but he cleared his throat, carrying on. “But I know he wasn’t alone. And I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

“I… I love him, Marleau.”

“I know. And I’m going to make sure he knows that in the worst moment of his life, the man he loves most was right there by his side. He’s lucky to have you, Hollander.” And with those words, Marleau stepped closer, pulling Shane into a brief but emotional hug. 

He turned, indicating the men standing just behind him. “We’re not just here for Roz, okay? We're here for you as well. Whatever you need. Between us and the Metros, we’ve got you covered. Hockey, the rivalry… none of that matters anymore.”

Shane spent the next few minutes making his way around everyone that had gathered in one place to support him and Ilya, thanking them and shaking hands. Eventually, they all sat down, attention focused on Shane. He knew what was coming, what Hayden was going to ask. He tucked his shaking hands under his thighs, catching Hayden’s eye to give him the go ahead.

“Do you… would you tell us what happened? We’ve seen stuff online, but it’s all speculation. I don’t know about everyone else, but since I found out that you and Rozanov were in the accident, it didn’t seem right to read about it from other people-”

Cliff cut in. “Uh, no, Pike. If he wants to talk-”

“Marleau, it’s okay,” Shane said, keen to reassure him and also grateful that he already felt protective enough of Shane to try and put a stop to anything that might upset him. “I… I asked Hayden to ask. Because I know you all want to know, and I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“You don’t owe us anything,” Connors said, and everyone around him nodded their agreement.

“I know. But you care about Ilya. And… it might do me good to talk about it. The doctors said I need to admit to what happened so I can start to deal with it.”

“Take your time, buddy,” Hayden said, and Shane took a deep breath.

“We didn’t realise we were on the same flight until we saw each other at the airport. He was meant to be flying out today instead but… he wanted to get back to me so he changed his flight. My flight was changed that morning as well, so it was just a weird coincidence. Everything was normal at first. A bit of turbulence, but you know what it’s like, it happens when you fly.”

St. Simon spoke next. “When did you know something was wrong?”

“The turbulence got worse,” Shane admitted, closing his eyes as he tried to remember how everything had happened. It was still a little fuzzy and there were parts Shane couldn’t remember no matter how much he tried, but he felt had enough to make sense of most of it. “We were told to sit down and put our seatbelts on but then… Everything got bad really fast. The oxygen masks dropped and I think I knew then that we were going down.”

“Shit, man. That’s fucking scary as hell.”

“It was,” Shane agreed, picking at his fingernail to distract himself from the wave of emotions the memories were causing. “I… all I knew was that I had to be with Ilya. I got up, even when I was being screamed at to go and sit back down.”

“You… you were with him?”

Shane just nodded, looking down in his lap, unable to look at the men hanging off his every word. “I couldn’t leave him. Not when I needed to be with him. Not when he needed me.” The thing was, he didn’t want to go into detail. Those messages Ilya had sent him, those feelings were for him and Ilya. They were private, and Shane held them close, kept them protected because he was sure that was what Ilya would have wanted. Instead, he spun it onto himself, having him be the one who needed his boyfriend. It wasn’t much of a twist of the truth. 

“I figured that if that was it, that I wanted it to end with him by my side.”

He braved looking up then, and was stunned by what he saw. Instead of the serious faces that had been watching him before… he could now see emotion on every single one of their faces. Hayden was openly crying, clutching J.J.’s hand, and a few of Shane’s other teammates had their arms flung around each other's shoulders, supporting each other. 

The Raiders weren’t faring much better. Cliff Marleau had his hand across his mouth, his eyebrows knitted together as he looked at Shane. St Simon and Connors were looking equally heartbroken at Shane’s words, and he wasn’t surprised by what Cliff said next.

“Jesus, kid,” Marleau said, his voice cracking. The rest of the room stayed silent. “You weren't just trying to save him. You'd already decided... if he was going, you were going to be with him.”

It was like they were all simultaneously realising just how much Shane loved Ilya. That it was the kind of love that reordered your entire world. The kind that made every decision without you even realising you'd made it. The kind that meant there had never been a choice at all. And Shane was just relieved that at last, everyone could see just how much he loved his man.

“You love him that much,” Connors said quietly, with St. Simon nodding at his side.

"I love him more than..." He stopped, shaking his head. "More than I know how to explain." Shane’s eyes were welling again with tears. He wasn’t sure how he still had tears left to cry. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if he doesn’t wake up.”

Everyone looked at Shane, thinking about how his future was laying in a coma in an ICU, and all Shane could do was wait.

“Everything was supposed to be with him. I don’t know what my life is supposed to look like if…” his voice faded away, unable to finish his sentence. He didn’t have to say it - everyone knew what he meant. 

“We’re all praying he wakes up,” Cliff said gently, and a hum of agreement rose around the room. “Because he deserves that chance. But Shane?” 

Shane looked at Cliff, meeting his eyes.

“You deserve that chance too. You deserve to have a life together.”

They were quiet for a while, and Hayden came over, talking to Shane quietly to make sure he was okay before Connors called Shane’s name, getting his attention. The room went quiet around them.

“How long, Hollander? How long have you and Roz been together?” Everyone glared at him but he just held up his hands, raising his eyebrows. “Come on, we’re all thinking it.”

“It’s fine, I just… a while,” Shane answered, unsure of how much to say. Of how much Ilya would want him to admit to. “We wanted it to be ours. We never wanted to lie to you guys, to the people we care about. But… it was ours before it was anyone else's. We wanted to have something that belonged to just us for a little while. Something that wasn't for the media or the league or anyone with an opinion.” His eyes drifted back to the floor. “We always said we'd tell everyone when the timing was right.”

Silence settled over the room.

Shane let out a shaky breath.

“I just...” His voice caught. “I never thought the first time I'd have to tell people about the man I love would be because I don't know if he's going to survive.”

******

A few hours later, Shane was emotionally exhausted. The majority of the Raiders and Metros had headed off to share a meal together, and Shane knew it would mean so much to Ilya to find that out when he woke up. Whatever happened now, their teams had their backs, united in their love and respect for the Captains, and the love they’d been privately sharing for years.

Yuna was upstairs with Ilya, and David had, at Shane’s insistence, returned to his hotel with Hayden to get some much needed sleep. Shane hated how this was affecting the people he loved. He could see a level of exhaustion on the faces of his parents that he hadn’t ever seen before, and he didn’t want to burden them anymore than he had to.

Shane had spent a few hours that afternoon by Ilya’s side, but had had to leave him when he was informed that the orthopaedic team wanted to come and assess his shoulder. Thankfully, they were pleased with his progress and had him booked to see a PT after the required weeks of rest. Shane had nodded along, agreeing to it, but he knew that Ilya was going to remain his priority, even above his own health. 

There was a soft knock at the door, and Shane shifted, tapping the screen on the phone Hayden had given him that afternoon, setting him up with the phone numbers of not just the Metros, but of the Raiders as well. He already had so many unread text messages, and he’d been working through them in the peace of the evening, the hospital calmer as the day headed into twilight hours. 

A nurse peered inside, looking apologetic at having disturbed him. “I’m sorry to disturb you-”

“You’re not, it’s fine,” Shane said, swinging his legs around so he could stand up. “Is everything okay? Is it Ilya?”

“Oh, sorry, no. There's no updates there. There’s actually someone here to see you?”

Shane walked towards her, frowning slightly. Yuna had made sure to give the nurses station a list of approved visitors that could have access to Shane without argument, and it included pretty much everyone important in his life, everyone who had turned up to support them that afternoon too. So the fact there was someone wanting to see him not on that list had Shane’s hackles up.

“Who is it?”

“They wouldn’t give their name. They just said you’d know who they were. I can send them away if you’d prefer?”

Shane quickly shook his head. “No, it’s fine. If this person thinks it’s important to see me, then I’ll come and meet them.”

He followed the nurse out into the corridor. The lights were dimmer now, and their footsteps were quiet on the floor. Shane’s shoulder ached since he’d taken off his brace to sleep, so he cradled his arm against his body, trying to work out if he recognised the silhouette of the person waiting just a few paces away from the desk.

“Just shout if you need us to get them to leave,” the nurse said, resting a hand on Shane’s forearm before she walked away, sitting behind the desk again. The nurses on Shane’s ward had been amazing, and were incredibly protective of their famous charge. They took not only his health seriously, but his safety as well, and he appreciated it more than he could say.

He walked over, and when the person finally turned around, his jaw dropped, realising exactly who it was.

“Oh my god. Svetlana.”

“Hello, Jane.”

Chapter End Notes

Chapter 13 is one of our favourites (mine, Sylwia's and Kelsey's, not just me!), and I'm very excited to share it.

See you for that soon....

Chapter 13: Lonely together

Chapter Summary

Revolving chair of truths

You make him believe in forever

We’ll do what you can’t for now...

Chapter Notes

This one is a bit different but I hope you enjoy it!

SICU: Shane

4 days in a coma

By now, entering the Surgical Intensive Care Unit was second nature for Shane. Ilya was in a private room, and he paused outside the door, removing the jacket he’d been wearing since it carried a risk of germs. He approached the sanitising station and made sure to clear both of his hands carefully, letting them air dry as he used his elbow to push down the handle, the door slowly and silently swinging open.

Shane smiled at the sight of his fiance, beautiful despite the equipment surrounding him and keeping him alive. Shane’s ankle twinged as he walked over but the pain was bearable now and he refused point blank to use the wheelchair anymore. He stood at the side of Ilya’s bed and took a moment to just look at him and take his face in. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Shane said as he reached up, gently touching Ilya’s hair, stroking it softly. He knew he probably couldn’t feel anything while he was in a coma but it helped Shane to have some contact with him. “Four days since I’ve seen those beautiful eyes of yours…”

More than anything, Shane wished he could kiss Ilya, to feel his soft, pillowy lips against his own. But the tubes in his mouth meant that wasn’t possible, and Shane had to settle for a gentle press of lips to Ilya’s forehead instead. It was warm, and Shane tracked his fingertips across Ilya’s cheek, over the cuts that had been stitched together.

He sat down, taking Ilya’s hand in his own, careful not to jostle any of the monitors as he did so. The first few times he’d visited Ilya, he’d been reluctant to touch him. The doctors and nurses had spent time reassuring Shane, telling him that as long as he didn’t dislodge any of the equipment monitoring Ilya and keeping him alive, that it was fine to touch him.

“The hospital says I can be discharged. But I don’t… I don’t want to go. Because that means we’re not in the same place, and I really hate the idea of being away from you. They said I can come and stay overnight like I do already but it doesn’t feel like it’s the same thing.”

He sat for a little while in silence, watching the numbers on the screen. He’d spent a long few afternoons asking Ilya’s nursing team about what they all meant, and now he had a good idea about his blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen saturation and his end-tidal Co2. He knew when the numbers were in a good range. He knew when things were going downhill and when to get help. Thankfully, Ilya had seemed pretty stable so far.

A nurse came in and took down information, asking after Shane. He glossed over his own health and asked her about Ilya, if there was any sign of progress happening at all.

“It’s just- it’s been four days. And there’s been no change.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” the nurse reassured him, replacing a piece of tape on Ilya’s arm that was holding down a clear tube that disappeared into the crook of his arm. “Ilya has been through a lot of trauma, as well as resulting surgery. It’s common for the doctors to want to keep him under sedation to allow his brain and body to rest and recuperate.”

“So it’s not a bad sign?”

“Not necessarily,” she answered with a small smile. “If you need anything, Shane, please let us know.”

She slipped out of the room almost as quietly as she’d entered, and Shane reached up to his neck, fiddling with Ilya’s crucifix. They’d taken it off him before his surgery, and Shane had almost had a panic attack when he’d been lucid enough to realise it was missing from Ilya’s  neck. The nurses had quickly fetched it from Ilya’s belongings, and he’d put it around his own neck for safe keeping. It wasn’t coming off until Ilya could wear it himself.

“Connors and St. Simon came by again yesterday. Marleau has stepped up as Captain while you’re in here, and he’s doing a good job. They beat Toronto 3-1 last night. There was a lot of talk about you on the broadcast. Lots of people wishing you well, hoping for an update soon.” He smiled to himself at the wonderful support they’d received so far, which had been more than he’d ever dreamed of having. “And Sveta, of course. Fuck, Ilya, she was so damn worried.”

Shane swallowed, thinking about how it had been to see Svetlana for that first time in the corridor, both of them exhausted and emotional. She’d jumped on a plane from Boston as soon as she’d heard the news, and Cliff had been the one to give her information on where Shane and Ilya were being looked after. That first meeting had been a little awkward, neither of them quite knowing how to be with each other until Shane had taken her back to his room and opened up about everything. She hadn’t cried, but she’d held Shane’s hand while he had. She’d been quieter than he’d expected, though, and her grief was etched all over her face.

Shane had been too tired to talk for long, and she’d left him, asking if she could see Ilya before she left. Shane had had the nurses call up to the SICU to add her to Ilya’s approved visitors list, and that had been it. Somehow, she was both everything he’d been expecting, and nothing like it at the same time. Shane wished that he’d had a chance to see her outside of being in the middle of this mess, but hopefully they’d have a chance to get to know each other better in the future, when Ilya could be part of their conversations too.

“That’s something else I need to think about. Mom has been keeping an eye on what everyone is saying. We, uh, we were seen, in the wreckage.” He paused, realising he wished more than anything he could discuss this with Ilya right now. Shane hadn’t yet been able to admit that much to Ilya, but he figured that, right now, Ilya couldn’t do anything either way so Shane might as well tell him what was going on. “People are demanding answers. I mean, first of all, what the fuck.”

He laughed wryly, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s our life. We don’t owe anybody anything. I wish people didn’t talk about us being in love like it’s some sort of terrible scandal, that we’re doing something wrong. Well, I guess that’s not entirely fair. There’s a lot of support out there for us. People are shocked, but our fans are pretty decent overall. I think at the moment, they’re more concerned about our wellbeing.”

One of Ilya’s many machines beeped, and Shane waited for it to quieten down before he continued. Somehow, the steady whirr of the ventilator was soothing for Shane, and he adjusted his hand on top of Ilya’s, stroking idly back and forth with his thumb.

“But people want answers. Journalists, hockey podcasts, they’re all asking. The Metros, the Raiders, Farah, my parents… I told Mom that I didn’t want to say anything, not until you’re awake and you can decide what we say with me. But I’m not sure I can hold them off much longer. And staying quiet somehow doesn’t feel right, not to me. It seems like… I don’t know, like we’re ashamed of our relationship.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head. “And that’s the last thing I feel about you, Ilya, and I know it’s the last thing you feel about me as well. Fuck, I wish you were here to calm me down, to tell me it’s all going to be okay. Do I say something? Do I let Mom and Farah put out a statement on our behalf? I just… I don’t want to make the wrong decision for both of us.”

He shuffled back in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Since the accident, Shane had had intermittent lower back pain, but he was still refusing the stronger painkillers offered by the doctors. 

“I miss you so much. I just miss talking to you, Ilyusha. Even when we’re not together, we’re always talking, texting, facetiming. I haven’t heard your voice for five days now. I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet in years.” He chuckled to himself, quite pleased with that little chirp. “I called your phone the other day, just to hear your voicemail. That stupid ‘this is Ilya, I will never listen to your voicemail’ shit you won’t change. Maybe I’ll do it for you while you’re stuck in here.”

He smiled at the thought of Ilya waking up and hearing whatever Shane had seen fit to leave on his voicemail. “I think you might like it if I said ‘hey, this is Ilya’s phone. He’s probably fucking me right now, so stop interrupting us, please’. Or what about ‘hi, Ilya’s phone. Unless your name is Shane, he’s not interested’.”

Shane was still smiling to himself when another nurse walked in, quickly glancing at Ilya before she handed Shane a bottle of water. Really, the nurses in here were angels in scrubs, taking care of Shane with the small gestures that made his life in the ICU with Ilya much more comfortable. 

A few hours passed, and Shane had finally run out of things to update Ilya with. Time seemed to standstill in this godforsaken place. Aside from the regular series of nurses and doctors checking in, everything was peaceful. The machines beeped and whirred with practised efficiency, keeping Ilya’s heart beating and keeping him breathing. Shane couldn’t offer anything except his presence and boring conversation.

By the time the evening arrived, Shane had set up the cot with the help of a nurse, and was laying on top of the blankets, scrolling through his phone. He sent periodical updates to both the Metros and Raiders every single day, often several times a day, but he knew they were beginning to get disheartened that there seemed to be little to no progress in Ilya’s recovery.

Boston Raiders

Shane: Spent the day in ICU with Ilya. 
Shane: He’s peaceful, still resting.
Shane: Nurses have told me it's 'normal'
Cliff
Cliff: tell him we miss him.
Cliff: practice isn't the same without him
Connors
Connors: I feel less like I want to die, though
Connors: Fuck, shit. Sorry
Connors: I meant he's not forcing bag skates on us
Shane: It’s okay. I knew what you meant.
St Simon
St Simon: you staying the night with him?
Shane: Of course. I don’t want him to be alone.
Cliff
Cliff: i’ll take weds night.
Cliff: will fly over after the game
Shane: Thanks, Marleau. Means a lot.

Shane only got out of bed to dim the lights in the room. It could never be entirely dark as the nurses and doctors needed to be able to see Ilya whenever they paid him a visit in the night, and to be honest, Shane wasn’t a massive fan of the dark right now. Darkness meant his mind fell into dark dreams, and that was something he was still struggling with.

While he was up, he went over to Ilya, stroking his cheek  before he laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. He ran the pad of his finger over Ilya’s eyelid, still finding it odd that he didn’t react to the touch, like he would’ve even in his sleep before.

“Goodnight, my love. Я так сильно тебя люблю.” I love you so much.

Shane shuffled over to his bed and sat down heavily, wincing at the movement. He carefully swung his legs up and onto the thin mattress, getting under the thin covers. It was almost too warm for Shane in the SICU but he’d put up with it if it meant he could stay with Ilya. He turned onto his side so he could see his fiance, the monitors around glowing in the darkness.

“Please come back to me,” he whispered, a tear snaking from his eye down his face and soaking into the pillow beneath his head. “I can’t do this by myself. I don’t want to do this by myself.” he sniffed, wiping his tears. “See you in the morning.”

SICU: Yuna

7 days in a coma

“Can I get you anything, Mrs Hollander?”

Yuna looked up from the crossword she was filling out, smiling at the nurse. “No, thank you, dear. And please do call me Yuna.” The nurse was about to leave, so Yuna decided she might as well ask. “What time are the doctors coming around this afternoon?”

“It should be between four and five,” the nurse replied gently, looking down when the pager on her hip beeped. “Sorry, I have to go but my colleagues are outside if you need us.”

She disappeared, leaving Yuna alone. Shane was at his first outpatient appointment to have his shoulder checked, and David had driven him. They were only a few floors apart, but it was hard for Yuna not to be there to support her son.

However, right now, her other son needed her support, and she looked up at Ilya, seeing no change, as had been the case for the past week. She still couldn’t believe that the crash had been a whole week ago now. She was still struggling to sleep, her mind running away with her when the dark hours came, imagining how terrified both Shane and Ilya must have been. She’d never known fear like it when she had gotten the call from Hayden, telling her to not turn on the news, that he had something to tell her.

As grateful as she was that Shane didn’t seem to have been too badly hurt, physically at least, it made her ache that Ilya was in the position he was in now. Shane’s boyfriend- no, fiance now, she thought with a smile, the man she’d come to love like another son, was always so loud, so full of life, and seeing him like this was just… wrong. There was no other word for it. It was in every way the opposite of the Ilya Rozanov she knew and loved, and every morning, she hoped for good news.

She put the lid back on her pen and tucked the book on the side table, out of the way of anything medical. Her takeaway cup of coffee was almost empty, and she gave her full attention to Ilya, deciding it was time to update him on his team. They’d all been told he might be able to hear them, so everyone taking care of him made a point to have as much one-sided conversation with him as they could.

“The Raiders played well last night,” she said, pulling up the key takeaways on her phone. She’d watched the match with David in their hotel room, cheering on the team in black and gold jerseys, the team that up until a few years ago, she’d despised. They had both got misty eyed when they saw each one of the Raiders wearing a white armband, the words WITH ILYA, WITH SHANE printed on them. She’d texted Shane, asking him about it but he’d had no idea either. “Cliff is doing a great job in your absence. I mean, he’s not you, but he’s making you proud.”

She ran the video of the match highlights, leaving the volume turned up in case Ilya could hear the commentary. She smiled to herself each time a Raider scored and skated up to a nearby camera, pointing at their armbands, nodding their heads. It was very moving, and Yuna felt lucky that both of her boys had such a strong network supporting them.

“They’re going to Chicago next. Cliff was a bit upset he couldn’t get here before the next match, but I told him it was fine, that you’d want him there with the team. Shane speaks to him pretty much every day. It’s nice, seeing how close they’ve gotten because of you. Shane’s circle has always been small, so it’s good to see he has more people.”

The highlights came to an end, and Yuna locked her phone, sighing as her eyes raked up and down Ilya’s body, how lifeless and still it was. She was all too aware that, at the moment, it was the machines keeping him alive. She knew it was for the best, that his body could heal while it was being kept alive mechanically but it was still hard to see him like this.

“Shane was talking to us the other day,” she started, kicking off her shoes and crossing her feet at the ankles. “About marrying you.”

She smiled, remembering how easily Shane had spoken about their future the other day, about the things she’d only hoped he’d one day find with another person.

“I've never heard my son talk about marriage before. Not once. He was always so happy for everyone else. He'd go to his teammates' weddings, come home with stories, buy the gifts, but whenever anyone asked about his own future, he'd just shrug it off.” She gave a small shake of her head. “I honestly thought it just wasn't something he wanted.”

Yuna paused, resting her left hand on top of Ilya’s.

“Then you came into his life like some loud, brash, Russian whirlwind. You made him believe in forever with another person. He was just… so excited, Ilya. He was talking to us and trying to figure out what the rest of your life together was going to look like. I’ve never seen him love anyone the way that he loves you. You gave Shane a future he’s actually excited to live in.”

She squeezed Ilya’s wrist gently, sighing when there was no reaction at all, even though she knew there wouldn’t be. “And you gave us another son to love. Just by being you, you’ve made three people incredibly happy. So you don’t get to leave us. Not when Shane is busy planning for the rest of your life.”

It was late by the time Yuna settled on the cot that they all shared, the nurses bringing clean sheets each morning. She’d changed into a pair of Shane’s sweatpants, held up with the ties pulled as tight as they’d go, and one of David’s old Metros t-shirts. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail before she walked over to Ilya, smoothing down the blankets covering his legs.

“Sleep well, hon. I’ll be here all night, okay? So if you want to wake up, just know you won’t be alone.”

SICU: Hayden

10 days in a coma

“You know, as much as I’m enjoying not being shit-talked,” Hayden started as he walked into the room, having decided on his first visit that the best way to get through this was to rarely let there be a moment’s silence. “It would be good if you thought about waking up now. Shane told me you like to sleep, but shit, bro, ten days is a little extreme.”

Hayden dumped his rucksack on the floor by the sofabed he’d call home for the next twelve hours and rummaged inside. He pulled out the creased pieces of paper his daughters had given him for their Uncle Ilya, and he smoothed them out with his hands, cursing himself for not thinking to put them in something to protect them.

“The girls made you some more pictures. I- I didn’t know what to tell them about you. Jackie and I said that you and Shane were hurt on a plane. He’s called them and spoken to them. They keep asking to talk to you as well. It’s getting harder to keep them from the truth, even though they’re way too young to understand.”

He pulled a blob of blu tack from his bag and pushed it onto the back of each picture, sticking each one to the tall unit on the other side of the room. They were the typical drawings of six year old girls, wobbly handwriting labelling ‘Uncle Ilya’ and ‘Uncle Shane’, two tall stick figures holding hands and clutching hockey sticks.  He snapped a photo of them on his phone and sent it to Jackie so she could show the girls that he’d done as he had promised to do. 

“There. Hopefully they’ll make you smile when you wake up.”

He settled into the chair next to the bed, quickly texting Shane to say he was there and that everything was okay. He’d originally arrived when Ilya was being washed by the nurses, so he’d turned around and headed to the cafeteria, grabbing a coffee and something to eat before he’d returned. The nurses had finished moving him and invited Hayden inside. 

The first time he’d stayed with Ilya, Hayden hadn’t really known what to do. He’d made conversation about Shane, about hockey, about his children… anything he could think of to fill the prolonged periods of silence. Surprisingly, he’d talked to Cliff Marleau about it afterwards, and Cliff had reassured him that it didn’t matter what he said or didn’t say, just that he was there and present for Shane and Ilya when they needed him.

“Jackie sends her love,” he said, shifting the small cushion behind his back to a more comfortable position. “I think she wants to fly out at some point and visit you. Her parents are on a cruise at the moment so we’ve got no one to take care of the kids, but when they’re home, she’ll fly out with me. She’s worried about both of you.”

Hayden pulled his phone from his pocket, replying to a couple of texts before he left it on the arm of his chair. “Shane’s doing well. He looked much more like himself when I landed yesterday.” Hayden smiled, reminding how tightly Shane had hugged him when he’d seen him at the airport, both Shane and David collecting him from his flight. “Did you know I spent over two hours the other night on a call with him and Cliff. Who’d have thought it, huh?”

Hayden was a little surprised by how friendly he’d gotten with Ilya’s best friend. He’d never really had a problem with Cliff Marleau throughout his whole career. He was a pretty clean player, powerful but fair, and he was one of the few MLH players that many seemed to respect. Now he knew him a little better, Hayden understood why. 

It was clear he cared deeply about Ilya and his wellbeing, and although Hayden had initially been defensive of Shane and Ilya’s relationship, it didn’t take him long to realise that Cliff and the Raiders were nothing but supportive of their Captain and the man he loved. Hayden and Cliff were both in the unique position of being the best friend, and they’d decided early on to stay in touch, to keep each other updated with whatever information they had. 

Hayden stayed well out of the way when the nurses appeared every hour, checking on Ilya and moving his limbs, ensuring his muscles didn’t atrophy and get bedsores. He watched with a sort of morbid fascination, keen to see how things worked for a patient in a coma, even if it was upsetting to see Ilya Rozanov like this. As much as he hadn’t liked the man on the ice or before he’d gotten to know him, Hayden now felt very fondly towards him and just hoped that their story would have a happy ending.

He took a call from Jackie later in the evening when she’d put the children to bed, and he kept the conversation quiet, even though it wasn’t going to disturb Ilya in any way. He told her that there was no change, that the doctors had spoken to him and Shane via phone call, informing him that they’d be doing an ultrasound on Ilya’s arm the following day to check on the blood vessels and arteries. Shane had promised to be there for that.

“I just… I don’t know how he’s doing it,” Hayden said to Jackie, raking a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t know if I just could just sit here and look at you, not knowing if you were going to wake up. He’s so fucking strong, Jacks.”

“I’m not sure Shane can let himself think of a reality where Ilya doesn’t wake up, babe,” she said, fighting back a yawn. “You’re doing everything you can to support him right now, and that’s all any of us can do.”

“I know, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Like, I just sit here and talk at Ilya, saying any old shit. I don’t even know if he can hear me… if he’d even want me here. Imagine if he fucking woke up now and the first thing he saw was my face. He’d be fucking devastated.”

“No, he’d be grateful that you care enough to be with him,” Jackie said softly, and Hayden wished so much that she was here right now. She’d know how to deal with this better than he was. “Sorry, babe, but I need to sleep. The baby will be up before six, and I’m exhausted. The girls were hard work today.”

“I’m sorry, honey-”

“Don’t say sorry. You’re right where you need to be, for Shane and Ilya. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“I will do, I love you.” Hayden ended the call and put his phone on charge. He turned to look at Ilya, sighing as he headed towards him, perching on the edge of the tall chair beside the bed. He reached out, pressing a hand on Ilya’s uninjured shoulder, a small point of contact. 

“I hate this,” Hayden confessed, his voice husky with emotion all of a sudden. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe it was because he truly cared for Ilya Rozanov now. Maybe it was a bit of both. “You shouldn’t be here, not like this. You should be with my best friend, making him smile in the way that only you can. You should be at home with him, not here and stuck in some fucking coma.”

He shook his head, crossing his arms across his body. 

“I hate that Shane is pretending that he’s okay, because I know he’s not. I’ve known him too long for him to be able to hide it from me.” Hayden sighed, shaking his head slowly. “I’ve never seen anything like the two of you together. You became each other's people so easily that I hate myself for not seeing it sooner. I hate that I missed him falling in love with you. He doesn’t know how to fucking exist without you, Ilya.”

Hayden glanced at a beeping monitor, his own heart rate picking up when it didn’t seem to stop beeping until finally, it did. “Shit. He keeps asking the doctors the same questions. Like one of them is suddenly going to be able to tell him when you’re going to wake up. But they can’t. Of course they can’t.”

He shook his head. “So let me tell you something, Rozanov. I know the shit you’ve been through in your life. You’ve fought for everything single thing you have. So please, fight for this too. Because, yeah, Shane has people around him. He has his parents, me, the team. But none of us are the person he really wants. So please, Ilya…” 

Hayden’s voice lowered into a whisper. 

“Don’t make me watch my best friend learn how to live without you.”

SICU: David

13 days in a coma

“Like this?” David asked, taking the weight of Ilya’s leg and bending it at the knee in the same way the nurses had done before.

“That’s it. Nice and slow, just gentle movements.”

David nodded and focused on the task at hand. He knew Shane had begun to help the nurses with Ilya’s intimate care, bathing him and helping wash his curls. David had only been able to hold Shane while he’d sobbed after doing that for the first time, trying to tell him how it had felt so wrong to take care of Ilya when he couldn’t tell him it was okay to do so. David had tried to reassure his son, but watching him so broken was its own kind of torture.

David had since watched the nurses apply the special cap to Ilya’s head, working in the shampoo inside the cap with their fingers before brushing it out. He could see why Shane wanted to learn how to help out with these tasks but at the same time, he hated that it was necessary. Since he couldn’t help with that side of Ilya’s care, he’d asked the nurses and doctors if he could help with Ilya’s PT, and they’d agreed, with Shane’s permission.

He’d watched many YouTube videos before the first time he’d done this, and it made him feel better to know he was taking care of Ilya in some way while he was in a coma. He hoped Ilya wouldn’t feel too awkward about it when he woke up, because David was doing all of this from a place of love. He truly considered Ilya his second son by now, and he knew Yuna felt the same. They were beyond lucky to have two sons to love and adore. 

“And his ankle. Just rotate his feet gently, clockwise then counter clockwise.”

David did so with his left ankle, while the nurses changed the dressings on Ilya’s hip. The bruising had finally started to disappear, but Ilya had been left with long, angry-looking scars down his legs from being pinned in the wreckage. The hair they’d had to shave to stitch him up was beginning to grow back, but David knew Ilya wouldn’t like how he looked right now. Not that he was vain, not by any stretch, but Ilya always took pride in his appearance, wanting to look nice. It was why seeing Ilya in a hoodie and sweatpants in Shane’s apartment meant a lot to both him and Yuna… he’d let his guard down around them, and David knew from Shane that wasn’t something the Russian did easily.

“Okay, we’re done for now. Thank you for your help, David. Can we get you anything?”

“I’m good, thank you,” he replied, tucking Ilya’s blankets back around his hips. David knew that Yuna made sure to stay out of the way whenever the nurses uncovered Ilya’s body, certain that Ilya wouldn’t want her to see him in this state, with catheters and on top of absorbent bedding, but David didn’t mind. Finally, he settled back down into the chair on Ilya’s right hand side.

The thing was, David never felt a need to talk when he sat with Ilya. The two were happy spending time in each other's company, quietly completing puzzles when they visited Ottawa to see Yuna and David, or if they stopped by Shane’s apartment when Ilya was with him. It was a peaceful kind of silence that David appreciated, and that Ilya had grown to be comfortable with. That didn’t change now.

He pulled out the magazine he’d bought a few days ago when he’d ventured into Winnipeg to buy Shane some clothes, and him and Yuna some toiletries that they were running out of having spent almost two weeks away from home by now. He tucked the pages he’d read behind, smiling as he looked down at the recipes in front of him.

“This looks good, Ilya,” he said, grinning and bringing the magazine a little closer to his face so he could read the small text. “Harissa chicken and orzo. Have you ever had orzo? I mean, probably not because I know Shane doesn’t eat much outside of his meal service, but it’s good. I don’t even know why I’m trying to convince you, you’re always good at eating whatever I make.”

David loved cooking for his family. Yes, Shane was more fussy and preferred to stick to his macrobiotic diet as much as possible but Ilya was someone who appreciated good food. David knew that his son was despairing of Ilya’s love of fast food, McGriddle’s in particular, but it didn’t keep Shane from having a cupboard in his kitchen dedicated to all of Ilya’s favourite snacks. Family meals, though, were David’s favourite.

“Oh, what about this? Crispy chorizo and fish bake. We might even persuade Shane into eating this if it contains fish. I know you’d eat his portion too but it would be nice if he ate the same as us sometimes, don’t you think?” David peered over the magazine at Ilya, smiling to himself. “Of course you don’t. You think he’s perfect. And I love that for him, and for you.”

David went back to his magazine, folding down the corner of the pages he wanted to go back to later, when he was at the hotel and could give it more attention. When the magazine was done, he pulled out the copy of The New Yorker, turning to where he’d been before. He found the article he’d read the other day and cleared his throat, beginning to read aloud.

He knew that if Ilya was awake, he’d be rolling his eyes, probably muttering something sarcastic under his breath while pretending he wasn't listening. But David also knew he'd be hanging on every word anyway. Ilya was one of the smartest people David knew. Not only could he converse and chirp in two languages, switching seamlessly between them depending on who he was talking to, he just understood people.

David had often hung back in social situations, particularly at hockey related events, and he watched quietly as Ilya sized up the room, picking up on tension, unspoken feelings, things that anyone else would easily overlook. Not Ilya. He’d deal with it in a way that didn’t make it all about him. He’d tease someone gently until they smiled, he’d leave them alone until he saw they were ready to talk. David knew people saw Ilya’s sharp wit, his dry humour, his confidence. But what few people really saw in Ilya was his heart.

But Shane had. And now so did he and Yuna. He was sure that even though they all knew Ilya now, Shane more than anyone else, that they sometimes underestimated the Russian. Ilya was so used to guarding himself, keeping who he really was from the world that sometimes, it was too easy to forget just how deeply he felt about things, about the people he loved. The people lucky enough to earn that part of him never had to question whether they mattered.

Watching Shane grow up as an awkward teenager into an even more awkward young man had David worrying about him. Shane had always been closed off, preferring his own company to that of his friends, and he knew that Shane pushed through team events for the sake of propriety, even though it meant he spent the next few days practically in silence as he came down from the overwhelm. He’d always worried that nobody would see past any of that, that Shane was going to be alone. Sure, he had David and Yuna, but they weren’t going to be around forever.

Then Ilya came into their lives… into Shane’s life. And for the first time, David hadn’t felt afraid for his son anymore. He could see that Ilya saw every single part of Shane, and knew how to handle him as well. A simple touch could bring Shane down from a panic attack. A quiet whispered word in Russian or English could stop Shane spiralling. A glance could ground Shane. It was something special to watch, and now that David had seen it, he couldn’t bear to imagine Shane’s life without it.

It was much later that night, when the SICU was quieter than normal, when most visitors had left for the night that David spoke quietly to Ilya, not reading aloud from a recipe or a magazine, but speaking from his heart.

“I don’t think you’ve realised what you’ve given my son,” he said softly, pacing back and forth, unable to sit still. “You gave him somewhere to belong. You're the first person who's ever made him believe that someone could choose him every single day for the rest of his life. For years, I worried about what would happen to him when his mother and I are gone.”

He stopped at Ilya’s bedside, gently brushing his curls away from his forehead.

“I don’t worry about that anymore.”

Chapter End Notes

More soon… and you might see a different side of Shane… 👀

Chapter 14: If you’ve got some fight left, come back to me

Chapter Summary

Thinking out loud.

Tears in public. Unacceptable.

I Need You.

Chapter Notes

Thank you again for all the comments on this one so far. I love reading them so much.

I promise the HEA will come. Just hang in there…

Shane glanced down at the messages on his lockscreen. Svetlana had been in Winnipeg for almost two weeks now, and Shane hadn’t had enough time to spend with her. He was either sitting by Ilya’s side, holding his hand and willing him to wake up, or at his own appointments, the doctors insisting on taking good care of him as well as Ilya. He appreciated it but it did mean he’d barely had a moment to breathe.

It also meant that Svetlana had been less of a priority than she should’ve been. Cliff had flown into Winnipeg again when he realised she had come to visit Ilya, and Shane had been a little jealous of the friendship they clearly had, both a part of Ilya’s life that he still didn’t really have access to. He knew that had to change, especially when he didn’t know just how long Ilya was going to be in this state for.

Before he got up, Shane quickly texted David, checking in on his fiance. Despite the fact Shane was feeling much better, his family and friends insisted on taking turns staying with Ilya overnight so that Shane was able to have a little break. He slept with his phone on  its loudest setting so that they could call him if anything changed, but so far, he’d had nights of uninterrupted sleep which were both necessary and heartbreaking at the same time.

Shane got out of the hotel bed and headed into the shower. He made quick work of washing himself, although it was still tricky when his shoulder was still giving him trouble. He’d never suffered like this with a dislocated shoulder before. Previously, he’d been back to full strength in around ten days, but now it had been almost two weeks since the accident and he was still in considerable pain, so much so the doctors continued to be concerned.

He’d had several other scans which showed that nothing was out of place, that there was nothing of concern in the joint. The doctors put it down to Shane refusing to take care of it when he’d been in the accident, that he’d put more strain on the muscles and tendons that he would have done on the ice. He threw back two painkillers before he pulled on one of Ilya’s tshirts, letting the fabric surround him. 

Breakfast wasn’t particularly appetising so he grabbed a protein bar from the box Yuna had sourced for him, heading out of the door. His phone was in his pocket, and he pulled on his sunglasses as he stepped outside into the sunshine, inhaling the fresh air deeply. He spotted Svetlana in the shade under a tree and he headed over, greeting her with a wave.

‘Good morning,” she said kindly, stepping in and giving Shane a quick hug. “How are you feeling? And don’t just say fine. If you are like Ilyushka, you like to pretend your injuries are not bad.”

Shane laughed gently, realising she perhaps knew him more than she realised. “I’m still in pain with my shoulder. My cuts and bruises are fine, but I think I just need to give myself more time. I mean, Ilya would be so pissed if he knew I wasn’t taking care of myself.”

They stepped out into the sun, walking as they continued to talk. 

“You’re right, he would.” 

Shane looked down as they walked, his eyes on the ground. He was wearing his comfortable sneakers, but Svetlana was wearing a pair of gold sandals. He took the opportunity to have a quick look at her. She was wearing a long black sundress, her curly hair flowing loosely around her head. She was definitely beautiful, Shane could admit that much, and for a moment, Shane wondered why on earth Ilya had chosen to be with him when he had someone like Svetlana in his life.

“You are thinking loudly.”

He smiled. “Ilya says that about me.” He startled as she suddenly reached towards him, touching the Orthodox cross Shane hadn’t taken off since the accident. “Oh.”

“I did not notice this until now. You are wearing his necklace?”

“Yes. They took it off him for his surgery. I, uh, I freaked out when I saw him and realised he didn’t have it. They gave it to me, and I want to keep it safe, so I figured I’d wear it. It makes me feel close to him, too, you know? I know how important it is to him.”

“He will like that you are wearing it. Keeping it protected. So. Tell me about the two of you?” she asked, her fingers brushing the back of Shane’s hand as she moved closer. “I feel I have missed so much. I know Ilya told me about you, but I never got to see you both together. I did not get to see your love.”

“What do you want to know?”

“As much as you want to tell me.” She glanced at Shane for a moment. “I hear your parents say you are getting married?”

“Yeah, we are. I… I was going to ask him properly, I bought a ring, I was planning something special, like Ilya deserves. But then we were in the accident and… things felt really bad. I was talking to him, trying to keep him awake.” His voice cracked at the memory, and he appreciated when Svetlana reached between them, taking his hand in her own. “I was talking about our future. The things we had to look forward to.”

“He was happy?”

“As happy as he could be while trapped and dying,” Shane admitted. “Then I just told him I wanted to marry him. I told him I have a ring for him and he just said yes. I realised then that we didn’t need anything expensive or flashy, that’s not us. He knew what I wanted, and he wanted it too.”

They headed over to a bench and Shane sat down gratefully, unable to believe that a short walk was already taking it out of him. 

“I knew he had someone,” Svetlana started, her sunglasses masking her eyes as she looked out over the park in front of them, mostly empty at this time of day. “He was always on his phone. He changed but in good ways. He had ginger ale in his fridge, products in his bathroom I knew were not his. He smiled more. He is happier because of you.”

“Me too,” Shane said. “I hate that we’ve had to hide ourselves from everyone. I know he wanted to start to tell some people, maybe Cliff and Connors this summer, before we spend time at the Cottage together again. It was hurting him to not tell people the truth. That’s on me. I wasn’t ready.”

“He understood, Shane, you know he did. But… how are you feeling now that it is everywhere? Your relationship, I mean.”

“The old me would’ve wanted to crawl into a hole and not come out for months. I would’ve cared too much about everyone else’s opinion.”

“And now?”

“Now, all I care about is Ilya. I couldn't give a shit what the world is saying about us. I hate that we were filmed in those moments. It was the worst time of my life, and people get to watch that and how we dealt with it. I hate that. It’s intrusive and voyeuristic but it’s out there and I can’t take it away.”

“Would you? If you could?”

Shane paused for a moment. “I don’t think so, no. Because now, I get to love Ilya loudly. I get to tell the world how much he means to me, and that I’d go to the ends of the earth for him. Mom has said they want me to make a statement. But I can’t talk to Ilya about it so I don’t- I don’t know what to do.” He looked at Ilya’s best friend. “What do you think he’d want?”

“I think he’d want you to do whatever you felt comfortable with,” she said carefully, her voice somehow less accented than Ilya’s, despite the fact they were both Russian. “If you think it would get people off your back to say something, he would be okay with this.”

“But-”

She turned to face him, tucking her sunglasses up into her hair. “Shane. The world knows, yes? So you have nothing left to lose. Tell the world how you feel, in your words. Not fancy words from agent or management. From you, from your heart. For your Ilyusha.”

His eyes flitted over to Svetlana, his breath catching for a moment. “You- you know I call him that?”

“I do. And I think it is lovely. But how did you know about this? Is common in Russia, yes, but not here.”

“He’s called me Sheynka for a long time. I didn’t get it at first and then I asked him to explain it to me. Then I went down this whole rabbit hole about Russian diminutive names, and… when I called him Ilyusha for the first time, he cried. He said only his mama had ever called him that. I told him I’d stop but… he said no. He loves it, I think. I usually only call him that when we’re alone, though.”

“You are a very good man, Shane.”

“Thank you.”

She looked out over the park again, her expression still serious. “So. Have you decided? Are you going to speak to the world about you and Ilyushka?”

He nodded, swallowing heavily. “Yeah, I think I will. I’ll get my Mom to help me write something. I think it’ll be too emotional if I do it by myself.”

“That is fair. Now, tell me what you love about him.”

Shane knew he was blushing but honestly, it was rare he got to speak about Ilya like this, and he knew Svetlana wouldn’t mind whatever he had to say. He could finally gush about the man he loved.

“Everything. Even when we hardly knew each other, I knew he was special. And he just continues to prove that to me over and over again. Yeah, he’s an asshole on the ice, he loves fucking with people’s heads and causing them to play like shit. But he’s so fucking talented. I love playing against him.”

“He is one of the best,” Svetlana agreed, smiling at Shane. 

“He’s got a beautiful heart. Even before we were something official, he always took care of me.” Shane looked down at his lap as he spoke his next words. “Ilya was the first man I was ever with. He never made me feel stupid about that. He was just… so gentle and kind. Like he cared about making it good for me. And that’s never changed. He’s thoughtful, and loving, and just… perfect. He loves me in a way I never thought I’d get to experience.”

“And you love him the same?”

“So much,” Shane admitted easily, perhaps the easiest thing he’d said so far. “He’s the other part of my soul. The hospital keeps telling me to prepare myself for the worst. But I can’t. I literally cannot do it. I can’t think about being in a world where Ilya isn’t with me. It just… it doesn’t make sense.”

“How so?”

“Every plan I’m making for my future has him in it. He’s the oneyI go to call first when I want to celebrate something, or if I’m feeling sad. He’s the first voice I want to hear in the morning, and the last one I hear before I go to sleep. He’s… he’s all of it.”

Again, Svetlana took his hand and Shane allowed it, holding on tightly even as her rings dug uncomfortably into his skin. 

“I know people survive losing the people they love. Ilya’s done it too many times. But everytime someone says to me ‘if he doesn’t make it’, I just… my brain freezes. I can’t picture it. I don’t want to picture it. Because it feels like if I do, it’s like I’ve given up on him. And I’ll never do that.”

“Oh Shane…”

“So I’ll be staying with him here until he wakes up. Fuck hockey, fuck everything. Nothing matters right now except him. I’ll sit by his side, holding his hand, talking to him about so much boring shit, he’ll hopefully wake up just to tell me to shut up.” They both let out soft laughs at that. “I just know that loving him is the easiest thing I've ever done in my life.”

Svetlana squeezed his hand again.

“And losing him would be impossible.”

“Ilyushka is strong, yes? He is still here after everything. I know him. He survived losing his mama. He survived his awful family. He will survive this because you are his happy ending, Shane. I have waited our whole lives to see him with someone who deserves him. And then you come along. With you…  he lets himself be taken care of. He lets himself be loved. These are not easy things for Ilyushka.”

Shane clenched his jaw to try and stave off his tears but it was too late. They were falling, but Svetlana wasn’t in a much better state.

“I know. That’s why I try my best every day to make sure he knows how loved he is.”

“So,” she said, sitting up straight and leaning into Shane, using her thumbs to wipe away his tears, “we will not say goodbye to him while his heart is beating. He has fought too hard for this life, and for you. Okay?”

Shane nodded. “I just… I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You don’t have to be. Let me be strong. Let your parents and friends be strong. You just have to be here, loving him. So until he tells us himself he is done fighting… we stay. We do not decide for him.”

Shane surged forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Svetlana. She was the closest link he had to Ilya right now, and he closed his eyes as she murmured something Russian in his ear. He stayed in her arms, quietly translating the words.

“Спасибо, что любишь его так, как любишь. Спасибо, что никогда не оставляешь его.”

“Don’t thank me for loving him or staying, Svetlana. I would never do anything else.”

She pulled back, seemingly shocked he had understood her. “You speak Russian?”

“I’m learning,” he admitted almost shyly. “For Ilya. I want him to not have to struggle to communicate with me when things get heavy for him. I want to do whatever I can to help make life easier for him. To show him that I see him, and that I love him, and that I want to be with him, no matter what.”

Svetlana leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Shane’s right cheek. “I can see why he loves you, Shane Hollander.” She stood up, holding a hand out to Shane. He took it, standing up in front of her. “You want to go and see your Ilyushka?”

Shane nodded, finally smiling. “Yeah, I do. And you’re coming with me.”

SICU: Cliff

18 days in a coma

“Shit, fuck-” Cliff grabbed a napkin and dabbed quickly at where the blob of mayonnaise had landed on the blanket covering Ilya’s legs. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry-”

He shook his head, setting his sandwich back into its packet. He knew that if Ilya was awake, he’d be giving him such shit for this and the silence was hard to bear. He bit back a yawn, still tired after hopping on an evening flight to Winnipeg after his game the afternoon before in New York against the Admirals. 

The match had been a good one. They got onto the ice, and the Admirals had surprised them by skating straight over to each of the Raiders, shaking their hands and sending their best to their captain. Cliff had appreciated the gesture, and he’d worn the armband with Shane and Ilya’s names on with pride once again. He’d left the rink and headed straight for the airport, managing to sleep a little on the plane before it landed just before midnight. He’d then taken an Uber to the hotel where they’d all taken up semi-permanent residence and fallen asleep until that morning.

He’d insisted on taking today’s shift with Ilya while Shane had some downtime with his parents. They were taking him out for lunch, and Cliff hoped that he’d be able to relax a little, promising to send hourly updates on Ilya, even though the chances of there being anything to say were remote. It had been two and a half weeks now, and there was still no improvement in Ilya’s condition.

Sometimes, Cliff’s mind drifted to the worst case scenario. He did this often, preferring to think through the multiple ways a situation could end so that he could be prepared for whatever he could be about to face. The trouble was, thinking about losing Ilya was just that - unthinkable. 

He’d known the man since he was an eighteen year old rookie, drafted to Boston, and he’d taken him under his wing. Ilya had been quiet, almost contemplative over his first few weeks in Boston, playing with the Raiders. But soon enough, the real Ilya had come out, and Cliff loved watching him start to gain confidence, growing friendships with his team mates, Cliff in particular. He wasn’t sure why he’d been the chosen one, but he was so grateful to be able to call Ilya Rozanov his best friend. 

He was a little hurt that Ilya hadn’t thought him trustworthy enough to confide in him about his relationship with Shane, but now he saw them together, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed before. Shane seemed to love him with his whole heart, which was all that Ilya deserved. He’d watched as Shane had sobbed at Ilya’s bedside, held his hand while he’d slept with his head on Ilya’s bed, and seen him take notes as the doctors ran him through Ilya’s latest updates.

It was a love that Cliff could only hope to have for a person. He could only hope he would be lucky enough to be loved in the way that Shane loved Ilya. So really, the only option was that Ilya had to wake up. Sure, Cliff would be devastated if something happened and Ilya didn’t make it, but he couldn’t begin to think about how Shane would cope with losing Ilya. 

“I’m not liking the fact my biceps are bigger than yours now,” Cliff said as he relaxed back in the chair. “I can’t wait to get back in the gym with you, to finally be the stronger one out of the two of us.” He smiled at the thought, always enjoying working out with his team, Ilya in particular. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around more,” he continued after a nurse's visit an hour later, watching as they carefully moved Ilya’s limbs, tilting his body so he wasn’t putting pressure on the same points of his body. “Now I’m acting Captain, they’ve stepped up my responsibilities. It’s getting harder to get away, but I’m doing my best, I promise.”

“But you know what? I love seeing how many people are here for you, dude. Seeing Shane and his parents looking after you… it’s what you’ve deserved for a long time, to be cared about like that. Sveta’s here too. It’s been nice seeing her again.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he just stared at Ilya’s unmoving face. 

“Maybe when you’re good and out of this place, we can all hang out. It would be nice to spend some time with you and Shane, to see you together. And his parents seem so cool too. They’ve not left either, Roz. You’ve got good people around you, and I love that for you.”

Cliff smiled to himself. “But you want to know the most shocking thing I’ve discovered since this whole thing?” He gave a dramatic pause even though Ilya wasn’t able to appreciate the tension. “Hayden Pike isn’t as big an asshole as I thought. I don’t know, Roz, the way you spoke about him made me think the guy was a dick. Maybe he still can be, but from what I’ve seen, he’s a good man.”

Cliff’s phone pinged and he unlocked it, reading the messages from Shane.

Cliff’s eyes went between his phone screen and the sedated man on the bed in front of him. He wasn’t entirely sure if Shane meant it literally, but he figured no one else would hear him. He cleared his throat, leaning in and speaking softly.

“Uh, Shane sends his love, Roz. Probably a hug and a kiss too, but I’m gonna draw the line there I’m afraid. He can do that in the morning.” Cliff had spent so long teasing Ilya about being an eternal bachelor and never settling down that it still felt a little strange to talk about Ilya’s boyfriend like this. “He’s a keeper, Roz.”

The monitors surrounding Ilya kept up their steady rhythm, flashing with numbers that Cliff didn’t understand.

“Look. I’ll make you a deal,” he started, shrugging off the hoodie he was wearing. The SICU was always ridiculously warm but somehow, Cliff managed to forget that each time he visited bundled up like he was in the middle of a Boston winter. “You wake up tomorrow. You let the doctors bully you for a few days, you let Shane fuss over you. Then you can go back to pretending you’re indestructible, okay?”

He reached over, giving Ilya’s bare shoulder an awkward pat.

“Get some sleep, Roz. I’ll be here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

SICU: Svetlana

21 days in a coma

Svetlana strutted into the SICU ward, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. She knew that people were looking but she didn’t care. She approached the desk and put down the large bakery box she’d carried all the way in, smiling at the nurses as they gathered around, eager to see what she’d bought this time. 

“Miss Vetrova, you spoil us!” said one nurse, grinning at her.

“No, you deserve this and much more for taking care of our Ilyushka,” she said, lifting the lid of the box. “Blinis, of course. But also syrok and kartoshka. You will like these. Enjoy.”

With that, she walked off in the direction of Ilya’s room. She pushed open the door and was a little surprised to see Shane still sitting by his side, holding Ilya’s hand between his own, pressed against his lips.

“You have an appointment, no?”

His head slowly turned to look at her, and for a moment, Svetlana felt very concerned about his wellbeing. He was pale, exhausted looking with heavy bags under his eyes. She wondered if something had happened during the night but then pushed away those fears, knowing Shane would've contacted her if that was anything to be concerned about.

“Yeah, I do. I wanted to help the nurses wash him before I left, and I just… I don’t want to leave him today. Did you know it’s three weeks today?”

“Since coma?”

He nodded, kissing Ilya’s hand again before laying it down on the bed. His phone pinged several times in a row but Shane just rolled his eyes, ignoring it while Svetlana looked on. “Yeah. Three weeks and there’s not been any good signs. I- I’m starting to lose hope.”

Svetlana wasn’t having that, so she walked over to Shane, carefully dragging him to his feet before she placed her hands on his shoulder. “No. We stay positive. For Ilyushka, yes, but for us too. We are not giving up.”

“I’m not. I just… I wish he could give us a sign that he’s in there, fighting his way back to us.” Once again, Shane’s phone pinged and he dragged it forcefully out of his pocket, glaring at the screen. “Fuck, I really have to go. Hayden is waiting to drive me to the clinic for my assessment. You’ll text me if anything happens?”

“You know I will. Now go. I will see you later.” She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Shane’s cheek before she ushered him out of the room. She knew if she didn’t force Shane to look after himself that Ilya would be angry with her when he found out. Now they were alone, she kicked off her heels into the corner of the room and started speaking Russian, as she always did when she and Ilya were alone.

“Right, you are being very dramatic now, yes? Sleeping for three weeks is a bit much. Time to think about coming back to us, Ilyushka.” She fussed around with his blankets, his wires and his hair for a few minutes before she sat beside him in the chair Shane had just vacated, tugging it a little closer to the bed. “What can I do to help, hmm? What do you need to bring you back?”

Even though she was in Winnipeg for Ilya, and also for Shane she realised now, her work continued. Within an hour of her arrival, Svetlana had set up her laptop and phone on the table that Ilya didn’t use, and was answering emails and communicating with her customers as much as she could. Thankfully, the people she’d left behind were more than capable of keeping things afloat in her absence, but she couldn’t cut herself off completely. 

“I was thinking the other day of how much has changed since we arrived in America,” Svetlana said, talking into the void but she enjoyed speaking in Russian. She didn’t have many Russian friends, and aside from her phone calls to her family, using her language with Ilya was the only other chance she got to exercise it. “How we are very different people now, but still the same in many ways.”

“In Russia, you were wild. Especially when you lost your beautiful Mama. You became self-destructive, like you didn’t care anymore. I am glad we are past that because it was hard to see you like that. Then we came here together, to America. And you seem to be at home, even though we are on the other side of the world. It took me a long time to understand that, Ilyushka.”

She paused talking for a moment while she replied to an angry email, reassuring the customer that someone would get back to them later, and then forwarded it to the office along with a few choice swear words that she felt would appropriately portray her anger at the situation.

“Sorry about that. Where was I? Ah yes. America. You were at home in Boston, like you never were in Moscow after Irina passed. You had friends, you had a life. I liked watching it happen for you, Ilyushka, even when I missed you terribly. I longed for those nights we could curl up together and watch hockey, talk until the sun rose. It was like we were teenagers again.”

She smiled at the memories, pushing her laptop to the side to take a break.

“And then things started to change. I wish you had told me from the beginning that you had found someone special. You tried to pretend it was nothing but I watched you fall in love, Ilyushka. I watched you let yourself open your heart, even when you were terrified because you were giving your heart to a man. I’m glad you were brave for him.”

She started playing gently with his curls, like she always did whenever he laid his head in her lap, which was less often these days. She hoped that he was able to do that with Shane now. 

“I am not sure why you ever thought yourself undeserving of love. Even I felt like I had to convince you that you deserved my friendship. Now look at you, yes? So many people here who love you, who won’t leave your side. Your Mama would be so proud, Ilyushka, of the life you have built here. She would be so happy for you to be surrounded by so many good people, by such love.”

“But do not forget I will always be your best friend, yes? I know Shane thinks he is your best friend, and maybe I will allow it, but you cannot get rid of me so easily, okay? I’ve already picked out my dress, so don’t get any stupid ideas about asking that oaf Cliff Marleau to be your best man. You already have a best woman. We have a wedding to plan, and you’re not getting out of it by being in a coma, okay?”

Svetlana chuckled to herself. “You know, they say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I want you to live to prove that right, Ilyushka. Not just for you, or for me. But for that man who hasn’t left your side. He’s haunted without you.”

Suddenly, the air in the room felt heavy, almost cloying.  “I have seen grief, Ilyushka, perhaps too much grief. Shane is already carrying it, and you are still here. I am begging you to not let it become all he has left.”

“He keeps apologising to you, even though everyone has told him he has nothing to apologise for. None of this is his fault, but he is carrying guilt. He keeps saying he should have protected you. We both know there is nothing he could have done. That this was a cruel twist of fate. 

“He is trying so hard to be brave for you. But I have seen when he thinks no-one is looking. He holds your cross and he weeps, like he’s already lost you. He holds your hand, like he is afraid the moment he lets go, that you will disappear. He should not have to love you and prepare to lose you, Ilyushka.”

“I would survive losing you,” she began, blinking quickly to stop the tears that had gathered from falling. “It would hurt me so much, but I would live for you, in your memory. But Shane? I think if he loses you, he will live. But the man he is today… we will bury him with you. Because I do not think he would ever be the same.”

She sighed, leaning forward, resting her head on his bed, next to his hip. Her hand found his wrist, encircling it gently. She felt drained, but there was no way she was leaving, not until Shane came back later for him. She muttered her next words quietly into the blanket, letting it muffle her words.

“I still have a lifetime of memories to make with you, Ilyushka. I want to see you get married. To see you become a father, because if there was one thing you were born to be, it is a papa. Maybe to one day watch you and Shane play on the same team together, to win Cups.”

She smiled at the thought.

“So I want the chance to make those memories with you. And Shane… he still has a lifetime left to love you. Please just- please don’t steal both of those things from us.”

Ilya’s blanket soaked up her tears before she sat up, cursing herself in Russian. She snatched a tissue from the small box on Ilya’s bedside table, dabbing at her eyes and trying not to ruin her make up. 

“Enough,” she stated, taking in a deep breath and exhaling sharply, centering herself. “Look what you have driven me to, Ilyushka. Tears in public. Unacceptable. You will pay for this when you wake up.” She stood up, kissing his forehead before she walked over to the window, looking out in the city of Winnipeg in the distance. “Because you will wake up. I am not giving you any choice in this.”

SICU: Shane

29 days in a coma

Shane wrung out the cloth in his hands over the small ball of warm, soapy water the nurses had left with him. They’d been about to help Shane with Ilya’s daily bathing, but alarms had suddenly blared out across the SICU and everyone had dropped everything before they’d run out of the room. Shane was just beyond grateful he’d never had to experience that level of terror with Ilya in here.

He lifted the cloth and slowly started wiping it across Ilya’s chest and shoulders, taking care not to dislodge any of the pads attached to his skin. He’d shared countless baths and showers with his fiance over the years, but this felt incredibly different. This was Shane caring for Ilya in the only way he knew how right now. 

“Your skin is still so soft,” he remarked as he switched the wet cloth for a dry towel, gently moving it over Ilya’s skin. He kissed several of the moles he could see and then resumed his work, cleaning Ilya’s arms and underarms before he rolled a layer of deodorant there too, knowing Ilya wouldn’t want to be embarrassed by body odour. “And you smell like me now I’ve got them to use my body wash.”

Caring for Ilya like this was soothing for Shane. He knew his dad and Cliff had learnt how to help the nurses with Ilya’s mobility, keeping the arms, wrists, legs and ankles that weren’t injured mobile with slow, gentle movements, but this part was exclusively for him. He rolled down the blanket further, exposing Ilya’s body to him. The nurses had removed the gown draped over him before they started, and Shane always had to resist the urge to cover him back up.

He cleaned across Ilya’s stomach before carefully and tenderly moving the cloth down, cleaning his crotch with gentle movements, drying him afterwards. Shane even managed to change the absorbent pad underneath Ilya for a clean, fresh one and he carried on, cleaning his legs and feet before he finally started to cover him up again, draping the gown back over his body to give him some dignity.

“The Metros management have insisted I go to meet them,” he said a while later when the nurses had cleaned up, finally leaving the couple alone again. Shane was resting his head on Ilya’s pillow, his hand on top of his chest. It was the closest Shane could get right now, and he’d take whatever he could get. “I don’t want to go because I’m scared of what they’re going to say.”

“I’m so tired of this. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of not being able to hold you, not being able to kiss you. It’s been nearly a month, Ilya. A month of this hell, of fucking purgatory, just not knowing anything. I just- I feel lost. I feel like I’ve lost everything that means something to me… you, hockey… and that’s so fucking selfish to say when you’re here like this. Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Every damn day they do rounds I expect them to tell me something else, something new. That they think today might be the day. That you might want to wake up soon. But it’s just the same shit. And I’m frustrated, and I’m angry that you’re going through this.” He huffed, rubbing his hands roughly over his face. “I know being angry isn’t helping you, and it sure as fuck isn’t helping me, but I don’t know how to else to feel.”

“I’m fucking angry about everything, okay? We were finally fucking happy, Ilya. We're in love, and we’re making plans for the future. Dammit, we’re getting married. And now just… everything has stopped. I’m alone again, and I miss you so fucking much that it takes my breath away. And you know what else?”

It was like a dam had been opened and Shane couldn’t have stopped ranting if he’d tried.

“Apparently, everyone has a fucking opinion about our relationship. Mom made me delete social media from my phone because I was becoming obsessed, apparently. You know, for every nice, supportive comment, there’s a dozen shitty ones. Why? I don’t understand. Because we fell in love? Because we want to spend our lives with each other? How fucking fucked up is that?”

He pushed up from the bed and got to his feet, ignoring the slight twinge in shoulder at the motion. He’d gotten rid of the brace last week, but there was still residual pain that he was working through with the doctors and the PT team. Right now, though, that pain barely registered.

“I just don’t get why everyone thinks I owe the world something right now. I’m barely keeping my head above water here, and they want me to stand there and talk into a camera like that’s going to make everything okay? Well they can fuck off. I don’t owe anyone anything. All I want to do is stay here with you and take care of you.”

“Oh, that’s another thing,” he continued, his rage storming throughout his whole body as he paced the room, not caring who could hear him. “I’m sick to fucking death of everyone telling me what to do. Go and rest, Shane. Go and sleep, look after yourself, Shane. Eat this meal, Shane, you’ll feel better. Like a bowl of fucking Udon noodles is going to make this shit any better!”

“And, fuck, I know they love you and want to take care of you, but everyone keeps sending me away, staying the night with you when that should be me. And I can’t fucking say no because that would make me an asshole. They love you, especially Svetlana and Cliff. She’s here almost as much as I am, and Cliff is here whenever he can get away from hockey. But it’s like-”

He cut himself off, almost embarrassed at what he was about to say before he decided, fuck it, he was going to get it all off his chest.

“You’re mine. You’re mine now, and they don’t get to push me away. They don’t get to tell me they know what’s best for you or for me. I get to decide that, because you’re mine, and I’m yours. So if we’ve got no fucking friends left by the time you get out of here, that’s on me, and right now, I don’t give a shit. You’re all I need. I hope I’m enough for you too.”

Shane let out a long, slow breath, his heart racing uncomfortably in his chest. He knew that most of these feelings were irrational, but he’d been keeping so much in for so long that sooner or later, something had to give. He could never dream of saying these things to the faces of their loved ones, so Ilya was the one having to listen. 

He turned slowly, resting the heels of his hands on the windowsill, facing Ilya again.

“And I’m so fucking angry at you.”

The words sounded ugly in the room, accompanied only by the noise from the machines keeping Ilya alive. Shane was shaking now, and he curled his fingers tighter around the painted wood behind him.

“I’m so fucking angry that you left me here alone to deal with this. I’m angry that I have to wake up every morning wondering if this is the day you die, that you leave me.” His voice cracked at that, but Shane barrelled on. “Do you know what happens every time I have to leave you here, Ilya? I spend the whole ride back to the hotel convinced that you’re going to wake up without me. Or that you’re going to die without me holding your hand.” 

He let out a wet laugh, crying again.

“There’s no version of this where I win, Ilya. Not anymore.” He swallowed, his tears dripping from his chin and into the fabric of the shirt he was wearing. “I can’t do this forever.”

He hadn’t meant to say that aloud but it was true. 

“I can’t.” His shoulders shook, and he pressed his lips tightly together. “I keep telling everyone that I’m okay. Because somebody has to be okay, and that’s apparently my fucking responsibility now too. But I’m not okay. I’m not. I’m so tired.” He sobbed quietly, just wanting to be held but he couldn’t be. He was alone. “I’m so fucking tired.”

He almost whispered the next words, ashamed of them. “I don’t know how to keep doing this. I don’t know how to be the strong one anymore. I- I need you.”

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were the ones Shane had held back for too long - quiet sobs, heavy breaths… a person at their limit, breaking. 

“I need you,” he whispered, walking back to Ilya’s side, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I don’t care how selfish that sounds anymore. I need you. So wake up. Please. I can’t lose you.”

Shane closed his eyes and leaned over the bed, resting his head on Ilya’s chest as he cried until he was so exhausted, he had nothing left to give. Through it all, he held onto Ilya’s hand tightly, like if he let go something terrible would happen. 

Right now, Shane was holding on for the both of them. 

And he wasn’t going to be the one letting go first.

Chapter End Notes

Up next… Shane makes a stand.

And prepare to love Hayden… 👀

Chapter 15: I think I might give up everything, just ask me to

Chapter Summary

A career isn’t a life.

If you need to reach me - don’t.

I think we’ve been here before…

Chapter Notes

If you’ve read the teasers on Threads, I apologise!

Enjoy this one… I’m looking forward to the comments. Thanks as always for the support.

A week later

Shane looked across the table at the people gathered in front of him, his eyes passing over each of them, hovering only for a few seconds before his gaze moved along. None of them gave anything away with their faces, and that frustrated Shane more than he wanted to admit. 

“Come on. I want you to be honest with me. Is this a stupid idea? Would Ilya fucking hate me for this?”

Yuna opened her mouth as if to answer but then she closed it again, her shoulders lowering in a heavy sigh.

“Mom, you’re never quiet.”

“This is a lot, Shane. You’re asking a lot of the Metros here.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? They’re asking a lot of me, expecting me to be anywhere near ready to go back. I’m not leaving him. I don’t know what’s so fucking hard to understand-”

“Shane-” David cut in, but Shane held up a hand, not ready to be told off like a child right now.

“We’re all adults, Dad. If I want to say fuck in a situation this shitty, then I will.  Do you seriously expect me to leave the man I love behind? He’s in a coma and I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to speak to him again, if he’s ever going to wake up from this fucking nightmare. So I do not think I am being unreasonable in telling the Metros to, quite frankly, go fuck themselves.”

Hayden bit back a smile but Shane caught the nod he gave him across the table.

“You do what you gotta do, Hollzy. All I will say is that you have the full backing of every single player out there. Metros, Raiders, Admirals… believe me when I tell you there isn’t one player right now who wouldn’t go to bat for you.”

“Thanks, Hayd,” Shane said, nodding at his best friend. He looked up, his heart missing a beat when he saw Svetlana walk into the room. “What are you-”

“He’s fine,” she hurried to say, walking past Shane and tapping his shoulder gently. “They’ve taken him for another scan on his arm. They said there is a bit of a wait, so I thought I’d come and see what family meeting is for.”

“Shane wants to tell the Metros he’s not going back,” Yuna began, and Shane rolled his eyes at her rather brief explanation.

“Jesus Christ, Mom. That's not entirely accurate, is it?” He turned to Svetlana, realising he wanted her opinion even if his situation didn’t affect her life in any way. “They think because I’ve been cleared with my arm that I’m going to want to go back and play. But I’m going to refuse, because I’m not leaving Ilya. Not until he’s awake. And if they think I’m getting on a plane anytime soon, they can fuck right off.”

Shane was sure he heard his mom mutter ‘god dammit, Shane’ under her breath, but he chose to ignore it.

“I agree. You cannot leave Ilyushka now. He would not leave you. Would you have team behind you?”

“Absolutely,” Hayden piped up. “Not just the Metros either. Cliff has the Raiders behind him, Hunter’s been messaging me, saying he’s got the Admirals on Hollzy’s side too. I know guys on a couple of other teams too, Ryan Price on the Guardians, Wyatt Hayes on the Cens. At this point, most of the conference is with Shane.”

Shane turned back to his mom. “Hockey is important to you, I get that. It is to me, too. But not more than Ilya is. I’m doing this, and I’d rather it be with you on my side.”

“I get how you feel Shane, but-”

“No buts,” he interrupted, feeling stronger than he had in a while. “If I have to choose between hockey and Ilya then believe me, it’ll be Ilya every single time. I don’t want to be put in that position, but for me, it simply isn’t a choice.”

He could see how this was affecting Yuna but he carried on, knowing he had to be explicit - he needed her to understand just how much this mattered.

“I know you care about my career, Mom. I know you think about my future and making sure I’m protected, that I’m making good decisions,” he started, softening his voice ever so slightly, “but it’s my life, okay? And I’m done letting other people make decisions about it, and about what matters the most to me.”

“Shane, I think-” she cut in, her voice even and steady to everyone else in the room but Shane could hear the tone behind it.

“I’m not changing my mind. I love Ilya more than I love hockey and I always will. And if you want to push me to choose, Mom… then you’ll be the one losing out.”

A heavy silence rang out around the room then, and Shane saw his dad look between his son and his wife, clearly caught between them.

“I said it before but let me be completely clear. I will choose Ilya. Every. Single. Time. Over everyone and everything else. I love hockey, it’s been my whole life and I don’t regret that. But it’s a game. Ilya isn’t. He’s a person… my person. He’s my future, and the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I just… I want you to support me in that decision.” He looked up, meeting her eyes, surprised to see tears shining in them. “Please, Mom.”

She stood up and rounded the table, coming slowly towards her son, like she was worried about scaring him away. Shane just stood up and opened his arms, letting her come into them. He pulled her close to his body, resting a cheek on the top of her head.

“I will always support you,” she whispered, her small hand stroking up and down his back. “I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that. I am always on your side, and Ilya’s too.” She pulled back, cupping his cheeks, tilting his face so he was looking at her. “What can I do to help?”

Shane gave her a wobbly smile. “Two things. Help me draft a statement to send out to the press. I’m tired of the articles guessing shit about me and Ilya. I want to set the record straight so I can focus on Ilya and getting him better.”

“I can do that, absolutely,” she nodded, taking Shane’s hand. “What else?”

“Meet with the team management with me. Hayden has already agreed to come with me, but I want you there too. I don’t want them to talk me into something because I’m exhausted by all of this. I need you to stand up for me and make it clear what I want.”

“We’ve got you, buddy,” Hayden said loudly, and Yuna turned to him, smiling before she turned back to her son. 

“Hayden is right. We’ve got you. When are they coming?”

Hayden spoke up again. “Tomorrow morning.”

“I will stay with Ilyushka tonight so you can prepare,” Svetlana offered and Shane just nodded gratefully, deciding that would be a good idea so that he could focus. This meeting wasn’t going to be easy, and he needed all the energy he could get. “Focus on you. I will take care of your boy.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, grateful to be surrounded by such a supportive circle of people. “That means a lot.”

She just shrugged simply, like it wasn’t even a question. “He is important to me too.”

The Hollanders left a short while later to go and make some calls, and Svetlana returned back upstairs to go and meet Ilya after his scan. It left Hayden and Shane alone, and Shane allowed himself to be guided outside into the hospital grounds, the two walking silently side by side for a few minutes.

“You okay? I know how much you hate arguing with your mom.”

Shane just shrugged, shoving his thumbs into his pockets as he walked. “I… I just need her to understand how much Ilya means to me. She loves hockey, and so do I. But I… I don’t love it at the expense of the man I love.”

Hayden flung his arm around Shane’s shoulders, tugging him into his side as they continued to walk. “I think she gets that now. Maybe it’s just hard for her. I mean, she knew about you and Ilya, right? But seeing just how much you love him is a whole different thing.”

He stopped for a second, looking at his best friend. “Can you ask a question?”

Hayden nodded. “Sure. Of course.”

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing, Hayden? Do you think I’m stupid for putting my career on the line right now?”

“That’s two questions but I’ll allow it,” Hayden replied, which made Shane smile, easing the tension that had settled in his already tense shoulders. “First of all, yes, you’re doing the right thing. You want to be with Ilya, and I think everyone should be able to understand that. And by his side is where you belong, so yes, Shane. It’s the right decision.”

Shane smiled tightly, giving his best friend a tight nod of his head. “Okay. Thanks, I just… I just want to be sure it’s not just me who thinks so.”

“It’s not just you. I’ve spoken to a few of the guys on the team as well. If it helps, they’re not expecting you back until Ilya is better. Cliff said the same, that nobody wants you on the ice until you’re ready. I meant it when I said you had the support of a lot of us behind you, Shane.”

“That’s good, because I have a feeling I’m going to need it,” Shane said, 

“And for what it’s worth… I really don’t think you doing this is putting your career on the line. If the Metro’s are really that pissed that you’re being loyal to your partner when he is on life support, then fuck them. There are plenty of teams out there that would snap you up in a heartbeat. But I’m afraid I would have to draw the line at you defecting to Boston.”

They both laughed and Shane grinned for what felt like the first time in a long time. 

“So I can marry a Raider but I can’t become one of them?”

“Absolutely,” Hayden chuckled, nudging Shane with his elbow. “Taking the name of one of them is enough, surely?”

Shane froze, remembering Ilya’s request when he’d been laying in the wreckage, thinking he wasn’t going to make it out.

“He wants to take my name,” Shane blurted out, his voice a little wobbly as he remembered how certain Ilya had been about that. “He said it, when he was… trapped. He said he wants to be a Hollander when we’re married.”

Hayden looked surprised. “Wow. I didn’t expect that. I thought maybe you’d hyphenate or something.”

“Me too. I quite liked Hollander-Rozanov. But Ilya was clear. He said he wants my name when we get married.”

“Did he say why?”

Shane shook his head. “He, uh, he couldn’t talk much. He was finding it hard to breathe. I’ll ask him when he wakes up.” Shane had decided that talking about Ilya waking up as a certainty was the way forward, and he just hoped that it was a matter of time now. “But I don’t really care what the reason is. If that’s what he wants, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Shane and Ilya Hollander. Got a cute ring to it,” Hayden grinned. “You want to go and grab some lunch and put something together for tomorrow? Maybe just some notes so you can get your thoughts down?”

Shane turned, glancing at the hospital over his shoulder, and immediately Hayden understood.

“Hey, Svetlana’s with him. You know she’ll call you if she needs you. This meeting is a big deal, Shane, even though we both know you’re doing the right thing. Come and have some lunch, let’s talk strategy and just try and chill out for a couple of hours.”

Shane sighed, realising resistance was futile when Hayden was in this overbearing, caring dad mode.

“Fine. But I’m not going far from the hospital.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, bud,” Hayden said, pulling up a website on his phone. “I was doing some research and I found this nice place about an eight minute drive away. It’s got a good menu, there’s plenty on there for you…”

The following afternoon

“And we can’t change your mind? Not at all?”

Shane shook his head, fiddling with the cuff of the shirt he was wearing. He’d sent his dad out shopping earlier because he refused to attend an important meeting about his career wearing a grubby hospital worn t-shirt, or something of his father’s. The blue linen fabric felt familiar, and Shane had hugged his dad hard in thanks when he realised he’d chosen something exactly right for Shane.

“No, Sir. You all know how much I love hockey, and how much I love playing for this team. But right now, I have to be here to be with Ilya.”

There was a collective sigh of reluctant acceptance, and Shane watched as the three men in front of him exchanged glances. He sensed that they weren’t happy with his decision, and from the way they leaned in and spoke quietly to each other, it seemed his assumptions were about to be proven correct.

“What about if we were to offer you something else? A non-active role until you find out if your friend is going to make it.”

Shane just blinked, almost unable to believe they’d said that in front of him. He felt Yuna rest a firm hand on his forearm, trying to calm him down. To his surprise, it wasn’t either him or Yuna who spoke first.

“Are you serious right now?” blurted out Hayden, glaring at the three men in turn.

“Hayden-” Shane started but apparently, Hayden wasn’t going to have it.

“No, Shane, the damn disrespect! Firstly, Ilya Rozanov isn’ Shane’s ‘friend’,” he said, using airquotes around the word, “he’s his fiance and you’d do well to remember that. The world knows so don’t act like it’s some sort of dirty little secret.”

Yuna just folded her arms across her chest, and Shane was a little surprised she was letting Hayden lead this right now.

“And you’re treating this whole thing like it’s some sort of minor scheduling conflict. What the hell is a non-active role anyway? You’re treating him like he’s some sort of robot, not a human being whose world is falling apart. I knew you guys were cold, we’ve always known it. But this is fucking disgraceful, quite frankly.”

“Mr. Pike, I suggest you sit down-”

“Don’t Mr. Pike me,” Hayden spat out, clearly incensed. “I know that you’re management, and I respect that. But believe me when I tell you that the entire roster is on Shane’s side here. And we’ve collectively decided that if you don’t support him and his request to take an indefinite period of leave to support the man he loves while he fights for his life, then we’ll be sitting out games for the foreseeable future. And yeah, dock our pay, bench us, whatever you want. We’re here for our Captain. And we’re not changing our minds.”

The room in the air went very still and Shane just sat there, frozen, unsure what to do. It was one thing to hear Hayden say it to him when they were the only people in the room, but to see him sticking up for Shane, and Ilya too, so vehemently in front of the people who paid his wages meant more than Shane could say. 

“I’ve barely had a day off sick,” Shane started, his voice a little softer now. “I’m rarely on the IR list. I play every game to the best of my ability. I lead by example. I try so hard to be a good role model, to be someone the rookies can come to when they’re having trouble, to be a good captain-”

“You are a good captain,” Hayden cut in, and Shane just nodded his thanks at him.

“Thanks, Hayd. I do all of that without you needing to ask me to. Because I love this job, I love hockey, and I love wearing the C on my jersey. I take that responsibility so seriously  But if any of my guys were in this position, I’d be ordering them to go home and be with their loved ones.  Because at the end of the day, this is just a job. Just a game.”

The men opposite him considered to stare at him, giving nothing away.

“I don’t know what kind of man it would make me if I put my job before the person that I love. And I don’t think I want to find out. That’s not me.” He looked down to his hands, clasped on top of the table. “Hayden is more than capable of leading this team while I can’t. He’s proven it over the past month, and you should all trust him as much as I do.”

“We understand all of that, Shane. But you have an obligation to the team,” one of them said, and Shane just slowly shook his head.

“My only obligation is to Ilya. If this makes me useless to you right now, then so be it. I’ve made my decision, and whatever you choose to do with me, I’ll accept. Because I’m not leaving here. I’m not leaving his side. He is my priority. He is my home. And if you honestly can’t understand how that feels, then that’s on you. Go ahead and strip the captaincy from me, because I am not abandoning Ilya right now.”

He pushed himself out of his chair, ignoring the slight twinge in his lower back at the action. He watched as both Yuna and Hayden did the same on either side of him.

“I have always been so proud to play for the Metros. To wear the jersey, to be their Captain. But right now, I have never been more ashamed of the people running this team.”

Shane looked each of the men in the eye, holding their gaze for a few seconds longer than was comfortable, but he wanted to get his point across.

“I’m going back upstairs to see my fiance. If you need to reach me - don’t. You can call my agent.”

Without waiting for a response, Shane turned and walked out of the room, Yuna and Hayden flanking him. It wasn’t until he got down the corridor that his knees buckled, and he realised what he’d done. Hayden caught him before Shane could land on the floor, and all three of them sank onto the floor, supporting Shane entirely.

“What the fuck have I done-”

“You did what you had to do for you and for Ilya,” Yuna said, her voice laced with nothing but love and pride for her son. “I’m so proud of you, Shane.”

“I just threw my career away.”

“I told you already. You’re Shane fucking Hollander,” Hayden said, grinning at his friend. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you could do that would make you undesirable to any MLH team.”

“Give it time. Let the dust settle. I’ll contact them with Farah in a few days,” Yuna started, rubbing Shane’s back comfortingly. “It’ll be okay, Shane.”

“Shit, I have to leave soon. Do you mind if I go and say goodbye to Svetlana and Ilya, tell them that I’ll be back in a few days?” Hayden asked, and Shane just smiled at his best friend.

“Sure, of course. I… I can’t tell you how much it means to have you here, standing up for me like that,” Shane said, and he let Hayden pull him into a tight hug. “Thank you for everything.”

“I’ll be back after the next run of games, okay? And you call me, keep me updated on Ilya.”

“I will,” Shane vowed, and the three of them said goodbye before Hayden headed for the bank of elevators, heading up to the SICU. Shane loved that Hayden wanted to say goodbye to Ilya without him needing to say anything, that he actually cared about the man Shane had chosen to spend the rest of his life with. 

“He’s a good one,” Yuna mused as she led Shane out of the hospital towards their car. Shane was exhausted and he needed a nap, and as much as he wanted to see Ilya right now, he knew he was in good hands with Svetlana, and that he needed to take care of himself too. “You’re doing the right thing, Shane.”

“I hope so,” Shane said, closing his eyes as he walked out into the sunlight. “I really hope so.”

********

Shane smoothed down the black shirt he was wearing, pulling the two sides of his jacket around his body. He looked at David, seeing the almost identical suit he was wearing, except he had on a white shirt with a black tie fastened tightly around his neck. He didn’t need to say anything.

Yuna was beside him in a second, tucking his collar down, smartening his look. She was wearing a knee length black dress, her hair pulled back into an elegant chignon. She looked… older, more weary. Her grief was etched plainly on her face, and her usually bright, sparkly eyes looked haunted.

They walked outside and got into the back of the car silently, Shane sat in between his parents. He allowed Yuna to take his hand, resting their tangled fingers on top of Shane’s thigh. He stared morosely out of the window, watching the raindrops paint tracks down the window pane, the sky grey and heavy around them.

When they finally arrived, David stepped out first, opening up a large black umbrella. Shane slid along the seat and came out next, holding out a hand to help his mother out. They crowded under the umbrella together but soon, Shane realised there wasn’t enough room. He stepped out from underneath its protective layer and looked at the gathered group of people, each dressed smartly in black.

He could see people were crying. He could see tears being wiped away with crumpled tissues, the way people were clinging to each other. Jackie was crying silently onto Hayden’s shoulder, and Shane’s best friend looked broken. Cliff Marleau, Connors, St. Simon and more were standing in a line, all of their eyes red rimmed as they looked back at Shane. Svetlana was alone, a small black handbag hanging off her shoulder. She looked as lost as Shane felt.

It was the strangest thing. He felt numb. He could see all of these people openly upset, displaying their emotions openly, sharing in their grief. But he couldn’t feel anything. He turned and walked in the direction, following the taller man that had appeared, wearing a long black coat, carrying a cane at his side.

The rain was soaking into the fabric of Shane’s clothes, making them heavy and uncomfortable but it didn’t matter. Nothing did, not anymore. He stood next to the deep hole in the ground, clenching his jaw as he looked down into the abyss. This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

Beside him, someone spoke. Shane couldn’t understand the words. He didn’t attempt to listen, to make sense of them. Yuna and David stayed right at Shane’s side, all of them watching as they started to lower the wooden casket into the ground. It was slow, steady. This was it. His final journey. Shane closed his eyes. He couldn’t watch anymore.

Then he was alone. Everyone around had disappeared, leaving him a solitary figure at the graveside. The rain was heavier now, the drops soaking Shane’s hair, running in rivulets down his face, hanging from his chin, mixing with the tears he was finally allowing to flow. He stared down into the ground, at the box laying six feet away from him.

“You promised you’d stay,” Shane managed to say, his voice cracking with emotion. “You told me you wouldn’t leave me behind.”

He sank to his knees in the mud, ruining his trousers. Sobs wracked Shane’s entire body, his shoulders shaking as he finally allowed himself to express all of the grief he’d kept bottled in. It was too much. Shane wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go on without him. He wasn’t supposed to be alone. This wasn’t how their story was meant to end.

He sat there on his knees crying, weeping for everything he’d lost, for all he’d had to say goodbye too. In the distance, he could hear crying. Then a strange buzzing sound. Over and over, not stopping. Grief was still consuming him, he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the rain, from where the man he loved was buried in the ground.

“No!”

Shane startled, gasping as he sat up, scrabbling around the sheets. His heart was pounding and he was crying, his cheeks and pillow damp with his tears. He let out a sob, covering his face with his hands as he realised it was just a nightmare, that Ilya wasn’t dead. He realised the buzzing had started again and he glanced across, seeing his phone lit up, vibrating on the side table.

“Shit,” he mumbled, sniffing and wiping away tears as he reached out a shaking hand, grabbing the device. He fumbled with it for a second, unable to get his fingers to work before finally, he answered the call. There was silence for a moment.

“Svetlana?”

“Shane, you need to get here-”

“No. Please, no, fuck-”

“Shane-”

“I can’t- no, Sveta, please-”

“Shane, listen to me. Ilya is waking up.”

Chapter End Notes

Next up… Shane tries to deal with the aftermath.

Chapter 16: I wouldn’t know how to let you go

Chapter Summary

Sleep, my love. I won’t leave.

Learning the truth

Making rash decisions...

Chapter Notes

Once again, the response to the last chapter has blown my mind. Thank you for everything you said about it!

That being said…

Enjoy! 🤩😈 I’ll look forward to reading your thoughts in the comments as always!

Shane had never moved so fast in his life. He almost fell off the bed as he tried to desperately get to his feet, cursing under his breath as he kept crying, unable to believe that just minutes before, he’d been dreaming about Ilya’s funeral. Now, he was coming back to them. 

Shane couldn’t focus as he stumbled around the room, pulling on whatever clothes he could find, ripping them off to try again when he realised his pants were inside out. He managed to order an Uber back to the hospital as he wrangled with a toothbrush, needing to do something to kill the time while he waited. He glanced at his lockscreen, seeing he had had four missed calls from Svetlana, one after the other. He’d almost missed it.

“Oh god,” he choked out, realising how close he’d come to missing this completely. That was unforgivable. 

He kept checking the Uber app, as if looking at it would make the driver appear faster. He swiped away every other pointless notification as he paced back and forth, just waiting, willing time to pass so he could get to Ilya’s side. When he finally got the notification, Shane snatched up his keys and ripped the door open, not caring about the late hour as he sprinted down the corridor, needing to get outside.

Shane raced out of the building and towards the car, practically throwing himself into the backseat. He couldn’t keep himself still, his legs wriggling, feet tapping on the floor as the cab drove through the darkness of the night towards the hospital. The journey seemed to take forever. It wasn’t fast enough. Nothing was fast enough. Shane wanted to lean forward and tell the driver to hurry up, that he needed to get there right now, but he couldn’t do that. Instead, he sat back in his seat, his body thrumming with a nervous energy he was sure he’d never experienced before.

The car had barely come to a stop before Shane was grabbing at the door handle, pushing it open so he could get out. Shane managed to blurt out a ‘thank you so much’ before he was sprinting towards the building. It was glowing eerily in the blackness of the night around and Shane was barely thinking as he pushed his way past the automatic doors before they’d even had a chance to fully open. He ignored the elevators, knowing they’d take too long.

He sprinted on, taking the stairs two at a time, up seven flights until finally he was outside the SICU. His lungs were screaming in protest, his eyes were blurry with tears and exhaustion, but none of it registered. The corridor was silent as he waited, resisting the urge to slam the buzzer for entrance over and over. He knew the staff were busy. Knew lives hung in the balance beyond those doors. Knew they couldn't simply abandon patients because one frantic man couldn't wait another thirty seconds.

By the time the automatic doors swung open, Shane’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides, barely holding himself back. He forced himself not to run as he hurried down the corridors, the usual cacophony of beeps and conversation dulled to a low hum in the early hours of the morning. Ilya’s room was towards the back of the unit, and Shane kept his head down, his sneakers squeaking on the floor until-

Svetlana. She was outside, pacing back and forth until she saw Shane. He ran at her and collided into her, scooping her into a tight hug, breathing into her hair for a few seconds before he let go.

“I’m so sorry-” he started, raking his hands through his hair, nervous energy taking over now. “I was so tired, I must've put my stupid phone on vibrate instead of loud, I didn’t mean to not answer-”

“Shane,” she said, not unkindly, resting her hands on his shoulders, stilling him. “Успокоиться”

He knew that phrase. Ilya had uttered it several times when Shane was spiralling, usually with a term of endearment on the end but still. The words were familiar. Calm down. He nodded, taking a few steadying breaths before he spoke again.

“What’s happening? He- did he wake up?”

“Machines started beeping,” Svetlana said, glancing back towards the still closed door of Ilya’s room. “He moved his arm. Then he tried to pull at tube in his throat. I called for help.”

“Oh my god,” Shane murmured, hating that he hadn’t been there at that moment. “Shit, I can’t believe this is happening. I- I was so scared this wasn’t going to happen-”

They both froze as the door swung open and a doctor walked out, nurses filing past him. He came to a stop in front of both Shane and Svetlana

“Ilya is regaining consciousness. He’s still very much in and out, but he’s showing good signs of lucidity right now. We’ve left the tube in because he’s been in a coma for an extended period of time, and we need to assess his ability to breathe unsupported but-”

“Can I see him?” Shane cut in, unable to wait anymore. “Please.”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, of course. Just… be gentle with him. He’ll be scared right now, he probably won’t understand what’s happening.”

Shane nodded and stepped around the doctor, looking back when he realised Svetlana wasn’t with him.

“You go,” she said with a small smile. “He will want only you, Shane.”

Shane’s lower lip trembled as he nodded, turning and finally walking into the room. It was still dark, the lights dimmed to their lowest. For a moment, it looked like nothing had changed. Ilya was still on the bed, the machines were still beeping, breathing for him. Shane approached slowly, like he didn’t want to spook him.

“Ilya, baby,” he began, his voice a soft whisper. “Ilya, I’m here. You’re safe, okay?”

He stroked Ilya’s hair carefully, his eyes frantically checking Ilya all over, looking for any sign that he was there with him. That something had changed. For a second, there was nothing. Everything seemed as it had before. Then…

Slowly, like it took all of the effort Ilya had left… his eyes started to open. His eyelids flickered slowly at first and Shane just stood at his side, clutching Ilya’s hand, holding his breath as he waited, giving him time. Then he blinked and his gaze drifted aimlessly around the room, before settling, unfocused, on the man next to him.

Shane leaned over, trying not to cry as he met Ilya’s eyes for the first time in almost six weeks. “Hey…” he said, moving his thumb back and forth on Ilya’s hand as his other hand found Ilya’s cheek, gently guiding his head towards Shane. “Ilya… I-”

Recognition slowly bloomed on Ilya’s face. Not all at once, but Shane could see it. The way a tiny crease appeared between his brows. His eyes searching Shane’s face as though he was trying to commit the sight to memory. Then his eyes widened, immediately filling with tears.

As Ilya’s eyes welled up, Shane finally broke.  A violent sob ripped out of him, and he collapsed into a crouch beside Ilya’s bed, still clutching his hand.

“Oh god…”

He screwed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against the metal frame of the bed, refusing to let go of Ilya’s hand. “Oh, thank god, thank you-”

Weeks of fear, of exhaustion, of thinking they’d never reach this moment were over. The doctors had told him to prepare for the worst but Shane had refused. He’d not allowed his mind to go to that dark place, and now, he was being rewarded in the best way. 

He forced himself back to his feet, looking at Ilya again, knowing he’d never been so pleased to see someone before in his life. “I’m sorry,” he gasped between breaths, laughing helplessly through his tears, wiping at Ilya’s tears with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry, I just-”

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart.

“I thought- I thought I was going to lose you.” Ilya’s fingers twitched around Shane’s for a moment, barely anything, but Shane felt it. “I woke up thinking- I thought I’d missed this. That I’d slept through you finally coming back to me.”

He lifted Ilya’s hand gently to his face, pressing kisses across his knuckles before he leaned over the bed, kissing Ilya’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead, wherever he could touch. When he pulled back, he could see Ilya’s lips trying to move, as if he wanted to say something.

“Hey, baby, you can’t talk, not yet,” he said softly, brushing Ilya’s curls away from his forehead. “You still have a tube helping you breathe. But it’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. You’re with me, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, Ilya. I’ve got you.”

The doctors came back in, and Shane refused to let go and leave Ilya as they performed their checks, apparently pleased that Ilya’s eyes were open again and he seemed to be responding to them. Shane tried to make sense of their assessments but it was still late, and his head felt foggy, only focused on Ilya.

“I never left,” he said when they were finally alone again. He was sitting in a chair again now, and Ilya was actually looking at him. “I was here every day. We- we’ve all been here, taking care of you. But I was here. I was talking to you every day. I don’t know if you heard me.”

Ilya blinked slowly, then again his fingers curled around Shane’s, like he was trying to tell him that he knew he was there, that he’d heard him. It was everything. Ilya knew he hadn’t been alone. 

“I love you so much,” Shane said, needing to say it aloud, for Ilya to hear. He watched as Ilya’s eyes started to get heavy again, the other man clearly fighting to keep them open, but Shane didn’t want that for him. He switched to Russian, hoping it would be easier for Ilya to understand. “Спи, любовь моя. Я не уйду.” Sleep, my love. I won’t leave.

He watched as Ilya forced himself to look at Shane one more time before he finally gave into sleep again, eyes fluttering shut. 

7.30am

Shane sat up as his phone pinged loudly. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes before he looked up at Ilya, seeing he was still asleep. The doctors told him that was to be expected, that it would be days before Ilya would be able to sustain being awake for longer periods. For now, it would be snatched moments, and Shane was determined not to miss any of them. 

He focused his eyes on his screen, regretting that he didn’t have his glasses on him. He lowered the brightness and read the words again, smiling when he saw what they said. He’d texted his parents a few hours ago, asking them to come to the hospital as soon as they were awake. He wasn’t surprised they’d come before visiting hours officially started.

“I’ll be right back. Mom and Dad have come to see you. You going to surprise them, hmm?” Much to Shane’s surprise, his eyes flickered open and met Shane’s for a second. Shane just grinned down at him. “Hello, beautiful, there you are. You want to say hi to our parents?”

Instead of going out of the room to meet them like he’d planned, Shane reached for his phone and tapped out a message with one hand.

Mom and Dad

Shane: Hey, hope you're awake.
Shane: Can you come to Ilya’s room please? 
Shane: I’m already here.
Mom
Mom: On our way, sweetheart.
Dad
Dad: Is everything okay, Shane?

Shane didn’t answer. He knew it would be just minutes before they walked inside, and they could see for themselves that everything was going to be okay. He turned his attention back to Ilya, soaking in the sight of his beautiful blue eyes. 

The door opened behind him and Shane stood up, barely turning around when-

“Oh my god.”

“Ilya-”

Yuna dropped the bags she was holding and rushed over to Ilya’s side, opposite Shane as David came to stand next to her. Her hand was covering her mouth as she looked down at Ilya, tears already falling.

“You’re awake, oh honey. I cannot tell you how happy we are to see you-” she choked up then and turned, burying her face in David’s shoulder. Shane wanted to comfort her but he couldn’t let go of Ilya, couldn’t leave his side.

“It’s so good to see you, son,” David said with a soft smile, reaching down and patting Ilya’s thigh on top of the blanket. Shane watched his fiance’s eyes flit between the two new people in the room and he paused, wondering if Ilya remembered them.

“Hey, Ilya, look at me, baby,” he said, and Ilya slowly did as he was asked, blinking up at Shane, trust written all over his face. “Do you… you remember my parents?” He remembered how the doctors had communicated with Ilya earlier, getting him to answer questions with his eyes. “Can you blink twice if you know who they are, Ilya?”

They waited and finally, Ilya blinked twice, slowly but with certainty. Yuna again bit back a sob and leaned over the bed, pressing a kiss to the top of Ilya’s head. Shane froze when he felt Ilya pulling his hand away but then he wanted to melt when he saw Ilya reach for Yuna, holding her hand like he was scared she’d disappear if he didn’t hold onto her. 

“When did this happen, Shane?” David asked a few minutes later when they were all seated around the bed, Shane back holding Ilya’s hand again while Yuna stroked his hair. Shane realised that to all intents and purposes now, his parents belonged to Ilya as well, more than they ever had before.

“Last night. Svetlana called me, she told me Ilya had started to wake up. I got here as fast as I could. I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up, I wasn’t thinking-”

“Don’t apologise, we understand,” Yuna said, smiling softly at her son. “Ilya was your focus. We’re here now, that’s the main thing. Has Svetlana-”

“She’s gone back to the hotel. She’s coming back later on. She said she’s going to call Cliff and the Raiders, to let them know that Ilya’s woken up.”

“I’ll go and call Hayden soon, he’ll want to know,” David said, and Shane nodded, pleased that everyone was taking care of the things he couldn’t bring himself to deal with right now. The only place he wanted to be was by Ilya’s side, not outside in the corridor making phone calls. “He’s playing until Friday, isn’t he?”

“I think so,” Shane said. He hadn’t been following the Metro's schedule too carefully since the accident, and to his surprise, he wasn’t missing hockey at all. Other things had taken priority in his life now, and maybe it was the shift he needed away from the sport he’d always loved. Something like this shifted your life entirely, and Shane had a feeling his life wouldn’t go back to being the same after this. 

“Did the doctors say anything about what to expect?” Yuna asked, and she glanced at Ilya. “Sorry, honey. I don’t mean to talk about you like you’re not here.”

“They said they’ll give it a day or so before they think about taking the tube out. That he needs to rest and not worry about breathing on his own for now. Apparently waking up is just the first hurdle.”

“That makes sense,” David said.

“They warned me that he’s going to be tired for a while. That his body is working through the sedation and the trauma of everything that happened. They said he might be confused for a while,” he continued quietly. “They told me not to overwhelm him. I think it’s a bit late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, uh, I think I fell apart a bit when I realised he was awake,” Shane admitted, blushing slightly. “I just… I’ve waited so long for it that it was a lot.”

He looked at Ilya, seeing how hard he was focusing to follow their conversation. His eyelids kept drooping, like he was fighting rest and Shane didn’t want that for him.

“Hey,” he said softly, kissing Ilya’s hand. “You don’t have to stay awake for us. You’ve done enough for one day, okay?”

Ilya just blinked at them, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying to smile.

“Hey, there you are,” Yuna said on his other side, and Shane watched her dab away her tears with a tissue that appeared from up her sleeve. Ilya just looked at her for a long moment before he slowly moved his hand out of Shane’s again. Slowly, like the movement cost him something, he lifted his hand from the bed, and Yuna knew what he wanted.

She leaned forward and took his hand in both of hers, holding it tightly. “We’re not going anywhere, honey. You sleep, we’ll be right here, okay? We love you, Ilya.”

Shane’s eyes were stinging at the sight in front of him. It was everything he’d wanted but had been too terrified to dare to want. Ilya’s finally closed again, and the room was filled with the steady hiss of the ventilator, and the beeping of the monitors Shane had long grown accustomed to hearing. 

“You doing okay?” David asked when Ilya was asleep again and a comfortable hush had fallen over the room.

“Yeah, I just… I don’t think I can believe it just yet,” Shane admitted, still refusing to move that a few inches away from Ilya. “He’s been like this for so long that it feels a bit surreal. Does that sound stupid?”

“Not at all,” Yuna said, reaching across the bed and taking Shane’s hand briefly. “You’ve been through a lot, Shane. It’s not surprising your brain is struggling to process everything. But he’s awake. That’s what we all dreamed of, right? He’s here with us again.”

“He is,” Shane said with a grin, realising that hopefully, this was the beginning of the end of this whole nightmare. “He’s back where he belongs.”

The following afternoon

Much to Shane’s delight, the doctors decided Ilya was ready to have his breathing tube removed, and that he was ready to breathe on his own. He’d seen the fear in Ilya’s eyes when the doctors had tried to explain everything, so he’d asked if he could stay and support Ilya through it. They were reluctant but when Shane made it quite clear he wasn’t going anywhere, they agreed.

Before they’d begun, Ilya had grabbed Shane’s hand and not let go, causing the medical team to work around Shane rather than have him out of the way. Ilya had gripped Shane so tightly it had hurt, but he’d stayed by his side, soothing Ilya with his voice and his touch as much as he could. Watching them pull the tube from Ilya’s throat had been brutal but at the same time, everything Shane had been waiting for. 

Ilya had coughed and spluttered for a few minutes before the doctors encouraged him to talk. Ilya had looked frightened, licking his dry lips as his eyes had moved around, looking at the doctor as they asked him to speak. And of course, he had, his voice raspy from not being used until he said-

“Shane…”

“Fuck, Ilya, baby, I’m here,” Shane said through a wet laugh, not caring about the tears that were falling. Ilya was facing him now, his head tilted towards Shane as he met his eyes, the two locked completely on each other. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful.”

And Shane couldn’t hold back any longer. He’d waited over six weeks for this. He leaned in and not so carefully pressed his lips against Ilya’s, smiling into it when he realised Ilya was kissing back. Ilya’s left hand came up shakily and grabbed the back of Shane’s head, holding him in place as they kissed, saying everything they couldn’t with words.

“I love you so much,” Shane said against Ilya’s lips, feeling like they were finally getting a break from the hell they’d been through. He had to step back for a moment while the doctors asked Ilya a few questions, monitoring his breathing and O2 sats before they seemed satisfied he was coping without the tube.

“We’ll leave you both alone, but please call us if he gets into any difficulty breathing. Don’t hesitate, okay? Call us.” the doctor said to Shane who just nodded, glad when finally, the room was empty. 

“How do you feel?” he asked, and Ilya just stared back at him for a moment. 

“Strange,” was what Ilya managed to say, and Shane gave him a small smile in return. “I… not know.”

“You don’t know how you feel?”

Ilya shook his head, a look of frustration flashing across his face. He tried again, in Russian this time. “Я не помню, что произошло.” I don’t remember what happened.

Shane translated it in his head quickly, not knowing what the entire phrase meant but he had a few words to make sense of it. “You no remember? Uh, you, um, don’t remember? The accident?”

Ilya just nodded.

“Right, well, okay they said you might not remember everything. Maybe we should save that for later-”

Ilya grabbed Shane’s arm and shook his head, almost too violently. Shane shushed him, trying to calm him down.

“Hey, Iluysha, come on, it’s okay…” Shane tried to relax Ilya but he wasn’t having it, fighting off Shane’s touches and trying to speak.

“Tell. Tell me.”

Shane paused, suddenly worried he was doing the right thing. “I will, okay? Just let me … I’ll be right back.” He leaned in, kissing Ilya’s forehead before he hurried out of the room, heading for the nurses station. Thankfully, the doctor who’d just been with them was still there, and Shane asked quickly for a word, standing to one side waiting for the man to come to him.

“Is everything okay? Does Ilya need assistance?”

“No, he’s fine. I just… I need to ask something. He just told me he doesn’t remember the accident. He wants me to tell him what happened.”

“Okay. Is that a problem?”

Shane just shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t have full memories but I have enough to piece it together for him. I’m just worried about upsetting him.”

“I think having gaps in his memories is troubling him more than the truth might do,” the doctor said, giving Shane his honest opinion. “He is aware that he is in hospital, that he has injuries but he has no memory of what caused them. If you’re comfortable, it would be a good idea to fill in the blanks for him. If you would rather we do that-”

“No. I- I think it would be better coming from me.”

“Okay. Well, medically, Ilya is cleared to hear whatever you have to tell him about the accident. I would just ask for now that you refrain from getting him to look at screens and that you don’t force him to speak for extended periods.”

“Okay, thank you, doctor,” Shane said, and the man quickly nodded at him before disappearing back behind the desk, no doubt getting ready to see other patients. Shane wandered back towards Ilya’s room and took a breath before he walked back inside, grinning at his boyfriend.

“You know how nice it is to walk back in here and see you sitting up and looking at me?” Shane asked, coming to settle on the edge of Ilya’s bed. He still had drains in his right arm which was still heavily bandaged and he had oxygen and heart monitors on but other than that, many of the other machines such as the ventilator were gone, which made the room much quieter.

“Very good,” Ilya managed, giving Shane a small smile. “You go?”

“I’m not going, Ilya, I’m staying with you.” Shane smiled but Ilya shook his head. “Oh, you mean where did I go? I just went to speak to the doctor, to make sure it’s okay to tell you about… what happened to us.”

Ilya coughed slightly, clearing his throat before he spoke. “Please, Shane. Truth.”

Shane just nodded. “Okay. But… I just want you to know this isn’t going to be easy.”

They held hands as Shane began to recount exactly what had happened. He told Ilya about how they’d ended up on the same flight entirely by chance, how everything had been fine at first. How they’d flirted, chatted to each other as much as the confines of the plane and their different seats allowed. Then he started to tell Ilya how everything had started to go wrong, and immediately, Ilya’s heart monitor started to beep.

“I… Ilya I should stop, this is upsetting you.”

“No, please. Tell me. Shane, I- need to know.”

It was the most Ilya had spoken since he’d woken, and Shane could see the physical effort it had taken him to say those few words. He must have needed to say it, and Shane sighed, nodding reluctantly.

“Fine. When we went down… I woke up after, I was nowhere near you. I’d dislocated my shoulder so I was in a lot of pain but I came to find you. You were… you were trapped. In the crash, everything had shifted and you were pinned by the chairs in front. Your leg and your… arm.”

Ilya glanced at his leg before he looked across his arm, his expression giving nothing away, which was more terrifying than if he’d been openly upset. He nodded, and Shane took that as a cue to continue with his recount of events.

“They tried to get me to leave. I wouldn’t, even when they were being quite insistent. You actually told me to go at one point, but I couldn’t-” Shane paused, collecting his emotions as he began to feel overwhelmed. “I couldn’t leave you, not like that. I… I was so scared I was going to lose you, Ilya.”

“It was bad?”

Shane just nodded. “Very. You were finding it hard to breathe, your, uh, your lips were going blue. Your arm was really bad. I- I didn’t know what to do. Eventually, help came and they started to get you out. They made me leave. They said if I didn’t, they couldn’t save you.”

Ilya took Shane’s hand and brought it slowly to his lips, kissing it.

“Then they got you out, and… I think you weren’t breathing because I watched them pump on your chest, and put a tube in your throat. Then you were on the helicopter, and they brought me here. You were in surgery for hours, they were trying to save your arm, to pin your leg. My parents arrived, and Hayden.”

“How long?”

“How long have you been here?” Ilya nodded. “Uh, you were in a coma for six weeks. But I was here every day. We’ve been taking it in turns staying with you. It’s been me, Mom, Dad, Hayden, Cliff, Sveta-”

“Sveta?”

Shane smiled at him, seeing how Ilya looked shocked at her name being said. “Yeah, she’s been here. I’ve gotten to know her quite well. She’s lovely, Ilya. She was actually the one with you when you started to wake up. She called me and I got here as fast as I could. But… I couldn’t have done it without her.”

“She will see me?”

“Everyone is waiting to see you, yeah,” Shane said softly, stroking Ilya’s cheek again. “Sveta called Cliff, and he’s flying out as soon as he can, so is Hayden. You have no idea how many people are waiting to see you. I, uh, just so you know, I’ve got pretty close with the Raiders too. They’re a good group of people, Ilya. Cliff's been here a lot, Connors and St. Simon have visited with him sometimes.”

Shane paused, wondering how much to say before he realised he needed to lay it out there, because Ilya deserved to know as much as he knew.

“Everyone knows now. About us,” Shane clarified, seeing Ilya’s face transform into one of shock. “Not just Hayden and Cliff.”

“How?”

“The crash was big news,” Shane began, talking slowly, choosing his words carefully. “It was on television, online. They had footage from inside the plane. Passengers who made it out were filming, posting it. Nobody meant anything bad by it. But… they caught us, in one of the videos. They saw us in our worst moment, and now…”

“Now what?” Ilya asked, gripping Shane’s hand tightly.

“Now the world knows how much I love you,” Shane said simply, because it was true. “I’ll show you it later, but… yeah, that’s not in any doubt. Not anymore.”

Ilya sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “What is being said?”

Shane decided Ilya definitely didn’t need to know all of the details, not now. He didn’t want to overwhelm or upset him anymore than he already was, so he settled for an answer that didn’t give too much away. “Nothing we can’t handle, and nothing that you need to worry about just yet.”

A tear snaked out of the corner of Ilya’s eye, and Shane quickly mopped it up, kissing him just because he could do so now. He’d waited six weeks to be able to kiss his fiance again and he was going to do it as much as he could. “This is lot. But I am glad they came. Is nice they care.”

“They do. Everyone cares, Ilya. I’ve had so many messages from people asking after you.”

It was quiet for a few minutes, but Shane could tell by the way Ilya was holding himself that he wanted to say something. He stayed silent, giving Ilya the time and space to say it, just waiting. It came a few minutes later, and Shane’s heart fell at his words.

“My arm,” Ilya said softly into the room, glancing at it then back at Shane. “Is bad?”

Shane paused but slowly nodded. “Shit. I- I think I should get the doctor to explain-”

“No, you,” Ilya insisted, his face going hard, that expression Shane usually only saw at centre ice when he was trying to psyche out his opponent by looking like he was entirely unbothered by their presence. It was odd to see it in this context. “Пожалуйста, Sheynka.”

Please, Shane. How could Shane say no to him, not when he was begging to know more about his own body.

“Okay, but I will still get the doctor to tell you later, okay? They’re much better at it than me.” Ilya nodded, and Shane got up, walking around the bed to sit on Ilya’s right, next to his arm. Shane still struggled to look at the external fixator that was wrapped around his arm, the rods piercing Ilya’s skin, stabilising the fractured bones in his arm and wrist. He’d watched the surgeons come and adjust it several times throughout Ilya’s coma, and it turned his stomach every time.

Ilya’s arm was still very swollen around the fixator, and the incisions from Ilya’s earlier surgeries were red and angry-looking, healing slowly. Shane hated the very visible reminder of what had happened. It was the swelling of Ilya’s arm, wrist and hand that was still concerning him, and the doctors were still monitoring it closely, constantly mentioning a potential need for additional surgery in the near future.

“Your arm was pinned. When I found you, it was obvious it was broken from the way it was twisted above your head. I got worried when your hand started to get dusky-”

“What is dusky?”

“Sorry, um, darker. It wasn’t the same colour as the rest of your body. The blood wasn’t getting there. They had to cut you free. When they got you here, they told me that- that you might lose your arm.” He looked at Ilya, seeing him flinch at that piece of information. “They warned me that it was really serious, that they were trying their best but they couldn’t guarantee you’d keep your arm. And I… as long as you lived, I didn’t care, Ilya.”

He took a breath, reaching for the cup of water on Ilya’s bedside table, taking a sip to give himself a short break before he carried on.

“They put this on, it’s called an external fixator. You don’t even want to know the rabbit holes I went down looking into this thing. I know it doesn’t look great, but it’s helping you heal. They said when you’re awake that they’ll start doing some functionality tests with you, to see how it is healing.”

“Okay,” Ilya said, his voice heavy. “My leg?”

Shane nodded. “Your leg was pinned too. The doctors told me that there was extensive trauma to your pelvis and your leg. They were able to pin your bones, and they put a plate in your pelvis. They, uh, they told me they would have to wait and see if you would…” he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it.

Ilya seemed to have understood because he just looked at Shane, his eyes filling with unshed tears.

“Can I walk?”

Shane just whispered his reply. “I don’t know.”

Ilya looked to the side, and blinked, the tears falling silently down his cheeks. Shane reached for his hand but he flinched when Ilya snatched it away, refusing to look at him.

“Ilya, please. I’m sorry-”

“Go.”

“What? No, I’m not going. We’re in this together, okay? I’m here for you.”

Ilya shook his head again. “No. You are okay. I am broken. Go, Shane.”

“Ilya, don’t do this-”

“GO!” Ilya yelled the word, and immediately dissolved into a cough that had Shane panicking, only able to watch as Ilya fought to catch his breath. 

When he was breathing again, he turned to look at Shane, his tear-stained face making Shane’s heartbreak. “Leave. Я хочу побыть одна.”

“But you shouldn’t be alone,” Shane pleaded, but Ilya turned his head, looking at the door. He was still crying, and Shane could see the numbers on his monitors rising. He realised he needed Ilya to calm down, and if giving him some space would help him to do that, then he’d leave for now. He’d go and call Svetlana, ask her to go and sit with Ilya. “I’ll go. I’m sorry, Ilya, I’m so sorry-”

As Shane headed for the door, a nurse walked in, looking concerned as Ilya’s monitors started beeping, but what hurt Shane more was hearing Ilya sob brokenly to the nurse.

“I can’t-”

The nurse was at Ilya’s bedside in an instant, speaking gently as she checked his monitors. 

“It’s okay, Ilya. Slow breaths, that’s it.”

Shane swallowed hard. Every instinct told him to go back, to hold Ilya’s hand and get him through this, but at the same time, he knew his fiance. He knew that Ilya needed time to process this alone, because Shane couldn’t promise him that this was going to be okay. And that hurt more than Shane could ever admit.

He stepped into the corridor, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. It did nothing to muffle the quiet, exhausted sound of Ilya crying.

Shane turned and leaned his forehead against the wall, finally letting the tears fall himself. His shoulders shook from silent sobs, guilt and helplessness taking over every inch of his body. He couldn’t do anything to take away Ilya’s pain.

He listened as Ilya continued to cry behind the door for a life he’d lost, and he stood there himself, crying because there was nothing he could do to help Ilya get it back.

Chapter End Notes

Next up…

BAMF Svetlana.
More visitors.
Ilya struggles with his new reality 😢

See you there! 👋🏻

Chapter 17: Let me be your safe place to fall

Chapter Summary

Own worst enemy.

Strange friendships with memorable people...

Post it.

Chapter Notes

Ahhhh we are finally getting somewhere with this one!

Thanks as always for the love… I’m excited to see what you’re going to think about this one too.

Enjoy, and as ever, please let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Note: italics are Svetlana and Ilya speaking in Russian ❤️

Shane managed to catch his breath for a moment and he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He couldn’t believe that what had been such a good moment with Ilya had descended into this. His shaking hands managed to hit a button to call the one person he knew could offer Ilya some comfort right now, and he held the device to his ear, listening as it rang.

“Shane?”

“Svetlana, I-” He broke down again, crying into his hand, sitting right there on the floor in the corridor. He didn’t even think about people watching him. 

“Shane, you need to speak. Now. Is Ilya okay?”

Shane shook his head before he realised Svetlana couldn’t see him. “He- he made me leave. Can you come? Please, I- I don’t want him to be alone.”

“I am on my way. Is he-”

“He’s okay. Just… just struggling.”

Svetlana was quiet for a moment but Shane could hear movement in the background of the call, drawers opening and closing before he heard heels tapping on the floor. “I am coming. Do not leave, okay?”

Shane promised he wouldn’t and hung up the call, finally getting to his feet. He rested his palm against the closed door of Ilya’s room before he walked along the corridor, finding a washroom. He locked the door behind him and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He almost didn’t recognise the man looking back at him. 

He looked like he’d aged ten years in the six weeks since the crash. He’d definitely lost weight, not just muscle mass. His face was thinner, his cheeks more gaunt. He knew he hadn’t been eating much, having lost and not really regained his appetite after the accident, but seeing himself like this was a shock. His hair had grown longer than he usually cared for, and his usually glowing skin was pale and lacklustre. Shane missed himself.

He spent the next few minutes splashing his face with cold water, trying to make his eyes look less swollen, less like he’d been sobbing yet again. He’d cried more in the six weeks since the plane crash than he had in his entire life, and truthfully, he was surprised that he still had any tears left to cry. He used a horribly scratchy paper towel to dry his face then his hands, staring hopelessly at his reflection.

“Fucking get it together,” he muttered to himself before he turned around, heading out of the bathroom. The corridor was still quiet so Shane headed back to Ilya’s door. There was no sign of anything so he sank back onto the floor outside the room, not willing to go back in yet. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead on his knees.

“Shane? Shane, come on.”

He knew that voice, and just seconds later, Shane felt someone kneeling next to him, forcing his head back. He blinked, looking into familiar brown eyes that stared back at him in concern. He pressed his lips together tightly, hoping he wouldn’t cry again.

“Up.”

“I can’t,” Shane said, shaking his head. “I- go see him. I’ll be fine.”

“Нет. Get up, please. Come on.” 

Suddenly, Shane felt hands tuck under his arms and they began to pull. Reluctantly, he went with the pull and found himself back on his feet, his head hung and looking at the floor before two fingers tucked under his chin, forcing him to look up into her eyes.

“Svetlana…”

“What happened?”

Shane sighed, not wanting to recount it but he was the one who called Svetlana. She deserved an explanation. “He… he asked me about what happened. I told him then he asked about his injuries.” He paused, swallowing. “About his arm.”

“He did not take it well.” Svetlana didn’t phrase it as a question but Shane nodded anyway. “And he tell you to go.”

“Yeah. He did.”

She scoffed, looking into the distance for a moment before she looked back at Shane. “I thought you knew him.”

Shane just blinked. “I do. Of course I do.”

“Then you know this is what he will do. He is his own worst enemy. Ilyushka will push away when he needs people most.”

Shane knew she was right, but it still hurt that he’d pushed Shane away, of all people. Shane should’ve been the one person Ilya could break in front of, to be honest with. Instead, he’d fallen back into his default mode of pushing everyone away and was currently in there alone, imagining a future so far away from the one he’d thought he would have that it felt impossible. Shane wasn’t going to let him do this alone.

“I will go in, talk to him-”

Shane interrupted, shaking his head. “No. I mean, yes, you can but I’m coming with you. I won’t let him push me away. Not when he needs me the most.”

She gave Shane a smile, like she was proud of him for realising that sometimes, he had to take charge. “You need to be what Ilyushka does not know he needs. You can do this?”

“Of course. I- I love him,” was all Shane replied, and she took his hand in hers, turning towards the closed door. She pushed the handle down and stepped inside, dragging Shane behind her, not letting go of his hand until she reached the side of Ilya’s bed, as if she were afraid Shane was going to change his mind and leave again.

“So you are back to your usual self, Ilyushka. I see it did not take long.”

Shane couldn’t follow the fast-paced Russian conversation entirely but he did see how Ilya rolled his eyes at that, looking away from Svetlana.

“Go away, Sveta.”

“Absolutely not. You think I have been here for weeks to watch you throw away the best thing you have ever had, Ilya? Not a chance.”

“This is not your problem to fix.”

“It is when Shane calls me a complete mess because you’ve pushed away the one person who’s been there for you the whole time.” She sighed, walking closer and taking Ilya’s hand. Shane just stayed where he was, a few steps away, trying to make sense of the Russian words he could understand. “I know you have been through a terrible time, Ilya, but so has he. He’s waited so long to see you wake up.”

“Yes, and I am not the person I was. He will not want this.”

“You can't make that choice for him, and if you truly believe that, then you’re an idiot,” she spat out, and Shane could see the anger in her face. 

“You do not understand,” Ilya said quietly, and Shane understood those words. He could see the hurt in Ilya’s face, the way he was refusing to look at Svetlana now, his gaze fixed on the sheet covering his lap. He wanted to approach, to offer comfort, but he wasn’t sure it was welcome. 

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she said, the Russian words pronounced and full of anger as they tumbled from her lips at speed. “You woke up, looked at yourself and you decided what Shane thinks before you bothered to ask him.”

“Stop pretending nothing has changed!” Ilya said, trying to yell but his voice was still hoarse to put any kind of volume or strength into it. 

“I am not, Ilyuska, because everything has changed. You nearly died. You have scars, terrible injuries, yes. You are in pain. But none of it gives you the right to decide that Shane no longer wants you.”

“I… I don’t know how to do this.”

“All you have to do is stop using all of this as an excuse to run away before Shane gets a chance to prove that he wants to stay.”

Shane just stood there, watching the exchange. He could hear Svetlana’s voice had taken a gentler tone over the last few sentences that they spoke, and he watched as she took Ilya’s hand between her own, looking softly at him. He could see the love between them, and he was so grateful there was someone else in the world who loved Ilya too. There weren’t many people who would stand up to Ilya like this, so he appreciated Svetlana’s presence more than he could say.

“Я не буду ему нужна такой.” (He won’t want me like this.)

“Не будь таким глупым, Илья.” (Don’t be so stupid, Ilya.)

Ilya just looked away but Svetlana grabbed his chin, making him look at her, her eyes moving between Ilya’s face and Shane’s. Her next words were slower and Shane finally understood them, wondering if she had slowed her speech down for his benefit.

“Он любит тебя. Не отталкивай его.” He loves you. Don’t push him away.

Shane licked his lips before answering carefully in Russian. “Я так сильно тебя люблю. Я никуда не уйду. Никогда.” I love you so much. I am not going anywhere. Never.

He saw Ilya’s facade wobble, but he waited, knowing it had to be Ilya’s choice to want him by his side. He continued in English.

“Don’t tell me to leave again, okay? Because I won’t do it. I’ve been here for the past six weeks waiting for you to wake up, and I’ll be here by your side for the rest of my life because this is where I belong, Ilya. There is no universe where I ever give up on you.”

When Ilya finally spoke, Shane’s heart felt like it shattered all over again.

“I… I cannot look at myself.”

“Ilya, no-” He grabbed Ilya’s left hand, holding it tightly.

“I do not know who I am. I am no good.”

Hearing Ilya speak of himself that way broke Shane and he stepped even closer, cradling Ilya’s hand against his chest. “Hey, stop that. I know who you are. You’re the best person I’ve ever known in my life.”

Ilya shook his head, his blue eyes so sad it made Shane’s stomach twist uncomfortably. “I… am not me. Cannot play hockey.”

Shane spoke softly to him, using his other hand to trace the line of Ilya’s cheekbone. “I didn’t fall in love with you because you can play hockey. I fell in love with you, Ilya. You could never skate another day in your life, and it wouldn’t change a thing about how I feel about you. I didn’t fall in love with what you could do, Ilya. I’m in love with you, and you’re still here.”

Ilya squeezed his eyes shut, like this was too much to hear. “What if… this is all I am?”

Shane smiled at him. “Then I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it doesn’t change a thing.”

Shane barely noticed Svetlana taking a step back, giving them the space they needed to be together.

“I am scared.”

“I know, sweetheart. I… I’ve been here for six weeks. Six weeks where you were gone. Where I couldn’t talk to you, or comfort you. Six weeks where every day I was terrified that I was going to lose you before you could wake up.” He reached up, gently wiping away Ilya’s silent tears. “I don’t need you to be okay right now. I just need you to be here. With me.”

Ilya shifted their hands, lacing their fingers together. “You stay?”

Shane just looked at him like there was only ever going to be one answer to that question.

“I already made that choice.” He pressed a kiss to each of Ilya’s fingers. “I’m here. We’ll get through whatever comes next, okay? Together.”

The next day: 12.30pm

Shane wiped the warm washcloth over Ilya’s face, touching him gently. “Does that feel nice?” Ilya, his eyes closed, just hummed his agreement, making Shane smile. “Good. I’m going to do your chest now, alright?”

“Да, Sheynka,” Ilya mumbled, Shane smiling at the name Ilya used for him. “Is nice.”

Shane continued washing Ilya’s body with the care and love he’d given the task over the past six weeks. The doctors had finally agreed to take off Ilya’s monitors during their visit that morning, and Shane had stood nervously watching as they removed the things that had offered him reassurance for the past six weeks that Ilya was still alive. It was odd to see him without them now. 

Ilya’s hand drifted up to his neck then to his own chest, his touch becoming almost frantic for a moment before he choked back a sob.

“Mama’s necklace-”

Shane quickly set the washcloth to one side, not bothering to dry his hands before he grabbed Ilya’s hand to stop him clawing at himself in panic. “Hey, shhh, stop, okay?”

“No, I need-”

Shane reached into his own t-shirt, pulling out Ilya’s necklace. “Look, I’ve got it. I’m wearing it. I’ve been wearing it since you got to the hospital. I’ve kept it safe for you, Ilyusha.”

Ilya’s tears were still falling so Shane wrapped him up in his arms, holding him tightly and swaying him gently side to side, trying to soothe him. He felt Ilya’s hand come up, touching the metal of the Orthodox Cross. “My mama…”

“I know. She’s here, okay? She’s been watching over you, and she’d be so proud of you, Ilya. Do you want it back?” Ilya shook his head, which surprised Shane. “No?” 

“You keep it safe? Until I leave.”

Shane smiled and nodded. “Of course I will. I like having a little piece of you and her with me. Want me to carry on washing you?”

Ilya nodded and Shane picked up the cloth again, rubbing it over the sticky patches left by the pads on Ilya’s skin, making sure they were clean before he got Ilya to lift his left arm, wiping softly over his underarm. He didn’t miss how Ilya looked away as Shane carefully pushed the cloth under his right arm, taking care not to jostle the arm itself. He continued, moving down over Ilya’s stomach, his hips…

“Shane…” Ilya started as Shane began to lift the blanket, exposing him. He saw Ilya’s cheeks were red so he paused, wanting to make sure his fiance was comfortable with this.

“I’ll stop if you need me to. I can let a nurse do this. But…” he put the washcloth back into the small basin the nurses had given him, drying his hands before he looked back at Ilya. “I’ve been taking care of you like this every day while you’ve been asleep. You couldn’t tell me no then, but you can now. If it’s too much, just tell me. I’ll stop. This is your call.”

“I…” Ilya trailed off, looking down at his covered lap. “I hate I cannot do this. I hate you have to do this for me.”

Shane smoothed back a few strands of Ilya’s hair. “I don’t have to do this, I want to. I like taking care of you. You deserve for me to look after you.”

“Is embarrassing.”

“I know. I think I’d feel the same way,” Shane agreed easily. “But Ilya, you’re recovering from something that almost killed you. Your body has been through hell. None of this changes how I see you, okay?”

Ilya finally looked up at Shane. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Shane said. “This isn’t just about washing you. It’s about me taking care of the person I love while you can’t quite do it for yourself. There’s nothing embarrassing about that, okay?”

“You really do not mind?”

“Never. Remember how you took care of me before? When I was panicking, you were there, holding me, talking me down. When the world got a little too overwhelming, you would take over control, taking the pressure off me when I needed you to without me needing to ask. That was your love language.” He paused, smiling softly at Ilya. “This is mine. I just… I want to take care of you.”

Ilya was silent for a moment, then… “Okay.”

Shane nodded. “And if you change your mind at any point, just tell me. I’ll stop. No questions.”

Slowly, Shane reached for the washcloth and lifted it, wringing it out over the basin before he turned back to Ilya, carefully turning back the blankets, trying to preserve Ilya’s dignity as much as he could. They were quiet as Shane focused on his work, using the same calm, practised movements he’d been doing for the past six weeks. 

He started talking when Ilya wriggled slightly in discomfort, speaking about the treats Svetlana had been bringing to the nurses, about the phone call he’d had with Jackie and her children, how they’d all been so excited to hear Uncle Ilya was awake. He kept talking about anything to remind Ilya that what he was doing now wasn’t something shameful. It was simply one more way Shane could take care of him. 

Shane dried him and brought the blanket back up, surprised when Ilya’s left hand gripped Shane’s wrist.

“Can you… hug me?”

“Always.” Shane’s smile widened and he shifted, sitting on the side of the bed before he leaned in, surrounding Ilya’s body with his own. He helped him lean forward just enough Shane could wrap his arms fully around him, shutting his eyes and enjoying the first proper hug they’d shared since before all of this happened.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Ilya whispered into the crook of Shane’s neck, gripping the back of his t-shirt with his hand, the right arm still laid on the bed. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

They broke apart and Shane made sure Ilya was comfortable before he headed out of the room, returning the things to the nurses station. 

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Shane asked an hour later, brushing Ilya’s hair gently with the comb he’d brought in with him. He was sitting up in the bed now, his eyes a little brighter than they had been before, and Shane was so relieved to see it. Now that Ilya realised Shane wasn’t going anywhere, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he seemed lighter, like he knew he wasn’t ever going to be alone again. “I can tell them not to come if you need more time.”

“I… they have seen this, yes?” Ilya asked, nodding down at the arm he still couldn’t bring himself to look at fully.

Shane just nodded. “Yeah, baby, they have. They’ve been here the whole time, remember? And like me, all they want is for you to be okay, whatever that’s gonna look like for you.”

“I look okay?”

Shane cupped his cheeks, smiling at his beautiful fiance. “You look beautiful. I love you.”

He kissed Ilya softly before he pulled his phone from his pocket, opening the group chat that had been active most of the previous evening, the other two participants eagerly awaiting Shane’s okay.

Roz's Sleeping Beauty Duty

Shane: Okay, he’s ready to see you.
Shane: Just be normal with him.
Cliff
Cliff: not sure roz knows normal me
Cliff: but sure
Hayden
Hayden: I can wait until later
Hayden: If that would be easier?
Shane: No, it's fine. Come with Cliff.
Shane: Just come in when you get here.
Cliff
Cliff: walking in. be a few minutes.
Hayden
Hayden: FYI if Roz asks
Hayden: I still hate this group name.
Cliff
Cliff: 😂😂😂😂
Cliff: im a GENIUS
Hayden
Hayden: So you CAN use capital letters.
Cliff
Cliff: 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

“They are here?”

“Almost,” Shane smiled, tidying up the few bits he’d left on Ilya’s bed, careful not to jostle his leg. “Remember, if you want them to go at any point, you tell me and I’ll get them out of here. They won’t be upset, they’re here for you, for whatever you need.”

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door and Shane went to answer it but Ilya grabbed his hand, keeping him at his side. Instead, Shane called out, asking them to come in. The door opened and Cliff walked in first, Hayden just a step behind him.

“Roz…” Cliff said, and Shane wasn’t surprised to hear his voice crack. He moved himself out of the way as Cliff approached Ilya, and he was sure his own eyes were misty as he watched the two men embrace, how Cliff’s shoulders silently shook as he held Ilya tightly. “You have no fucking idea how happy I am to see you.”

“You are crying, Marly,” Ilya said as they pulled apart, and Shane grabbed a couple of chairs, putting them around the bed. He passed Cliff a tissue and then Cliff quickly sank into the chair closest to the bed, still staring at Ilya like he couldn’t believe he was real. “Is embarrassing, yes?”

Cliff let out a tearful chuckle, nodding his head. “Yeah, probably. But it’s not every day you see your fucking best friend awake for the first time after six weeks of thinking you were going to lose him.”

“I am sorry…”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Cliff insisted, resting a hand on Ilya’s leg, squeezing gently. Shane felt emotional just watching this unfold. “You’re here. All I wanted was to have you back.”

Hayden came closer then and he smiled down at Ilya, resting a hand on Cliff’s shoulder. “It’s so good to see you awake, Rozanov.”

Ilya just blinked up at Shane, his gaze decidedly less friendly than it had been seconds before. “Shane?”

“Yes, my love?” Shane asked, coming over and standing on the other side of the bed, on Ilya’s right side. Ilya had been adamant he didn’t want Cliff or Hayden sitting on that side of him, close to his worst injuries so Shane had assured him he’d be on that side, that he didn’t have to worry at all about it.

“Who is this?”

“I- what?” Hayden asked, his face draining, eyes flitting quickly between Shane, Ilya and Cliff, confusion on his face. “I- shit, Rozanov, I-”

“Why is he here with Marly? I do not know him, Shane.”

Shane was struggling to maintain a straight face now, and even Cliff looked horrified, like he didn’t know what to do. “Ilya…”

“Why they let strangers in, Shane? Is not okay.”

Hayden started backing up, holding his hands up like he was surrendering. “Shit, I’m sorry, I should go-”

Ilya just blinked at him before he spoke again. “You think I could forget Metro’s fifteenth best player? Come here, Pike.”

Hayden’s hand came up to cover his mouth before his face transformed, cycling through emotions; shock, anger then finally… relief. He came over to Ilya’s side and leaned in, hugging him just like Cliff had done moments before. “Fuck you, Rozanov. That was fucking cruel.”

“You cannot be mean to me. I am terribly injured, yes?”

Shane smiled, pleased that finally Ilya seemed to be getting some of his personality back, like the old Ilya was coming back piece by piece. “Sorry, Hayd, that was hilarious. Your face…”

“It wasn’t funny! Christ, you told me he was fine, and I thought he’d actually forgotten about me!”

“You are memorable?” Ilya asked, arching an eyebrow at Hayden who just scowled back.

“Very!” Hayden insisted, finally sitting down next to Cliff. “Russia’s greatest chirp machine, indeed. Fuck me.”

“No, thank you,” Ilya answered primly, and Shane lost it then, spluttering out loud and laughing, Cliff quickly joining him. 

When they all settled down, Shane perched on the edge of Ilya’s bed, a steadying, solid presence, Cliff spoke again.

“It really is so good to see you awake. Fuck, when Svetlana called me and-”

“You have Sveta’s number? Shane, no. Did you protect her honour-”

Shane laughed again. “Jesus, Ilya, it’s fine! We all have each other's numbers, that’s how we’ve been keeping each other up to date about you. And believe me, I’ve realised Svetlana is more than capable of protecting her own honour. She’s actually quite terrifying. Brilliant but terrifying.”

“Ah, yes. She is.”

“As I was saying,” Cliff interrupted, keen to get the conversation back on track. “Seeing you awake… god. I’m so fucking glad you pulled through, man. Being here, watching you go through that… It was tough.”

Hayden nodded at his side. “I don’t know if Shane told you, but we’ve all been here as much as we can. Marly and I have been flying back and forth between games.”

Ilya was quiet again, but Shane knew he was just taking in, realising just how much these two men cared about him. 

“Thank you,” he said gently. “Is so nice you were here for Shane.”

Both Hayden and Cliff shook their heads at the same time. Cliff spoke first. “I mean, yeah. We wanted to make sure Shane had people around that supported him. But we were also here for you. You were never going to be alone. Either of you.”

“How are you feeling about it all?” Hayden asked a little while later, and Shane looked nervously at Ilya, like he was worried the question was too much. He was about to jump in and move the conversation on when Ilya surprised him by answering.

“Bad,” Ilya admitted with uncharacteristic honesty. “I do not like being like this.”

“But you’re alive,” Cliff stated, like that was entirely the most important thing. “We can help you with whatever you need to deal with this. But Roz, surely being alive is… it makes everything else less important, right?”

Ilya nodded. “Yes. I know this. But is hard, not knowing. My arm… is bad. Doctor says maybe need more surgery. My legs are hurt. Maybe I can walk. Maybe I cannot.”

“And like I said, it changes nothing about how the people in your life feel about you, Ilya,” Shane reminded him. “All it means is we will be here to support you through this.”

“Absolutely,” Cliff agreed. “We’re all behind you. And not just us three. The Raiders, the Metros… hell, half the League at this point. You have no idea how many players have reached to offer their support, Roz. Texts, calls. Messages asking how you are, you and Shane. If there’s anything they can do.”

Ilya and Shane looked at each other, sharing a small smile at that, realising that their worst fears at being outed weren’t anywhere near close to coming true.

“You like to think you’ve built this reputation of being the League’s biggest asshole. And maybe that’s true when you’re on ice, chirping people, pissing them off. But they also see you as a human being, someone they’ve always respected on and off the ice. When the news broke…”

He trailed off, and Hayden rested a supportive hand on Cliff’s shoulder, a movement not unnoticed by both Shane and Ilya.

“Nobody was talking about the rivalries. Between you and Shane, between the Raiders and Metros. Everybody was just hoping that you’d make it.” He reached over and squeezed Ilya’s shoulder. “Every single one of them is going to be damn grateful that you did.”

“We have so much support,” Shane echoed, hoping Ilya believed them all. “More than we could’ve ever dreamed of having, Ilya.”

Ilya let out a little cough, and before Shane could move, Cliff reached for the little cup of water on Ilya’s table, holding it out for him, directing the straw at Ilya’s mouth. Ilya just glared for a second before he took a reluctant sip, letting himself be helped in a way that Shane knew he was hating every second of. 

He pointed between Hayden and Cliff a few seconds later. “This is strange. You. Friends.”

“He’s a good guy,” Cliff shrugged. “He’s been here as much as I have. He’s pretty badass when he wants to be, or so I’ve heard.”

Ilya frowned, looking up at Shane. “What? Why?”

Shane started to answer. “It doesn’t matter-”

“No, don’t do that, Shane. The Metros were being dicks. They were insisting he come back to work, even though all the players told them we were fine without him. Well, not fine, you know, but we were making it work. Shane being here with you was more important.”

“Hayden-”

Hayden barrelled on, ignoring Shane. “He told them he wasn’t leaving. That they could strip his captaincy if that’s what they wanted because he wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Shane, you… why?”

“Because I love you,” Shane said easily, “and I will always choose you over hockey.”

“You conveniently left out what you did,” Cliff said, directing his words at Hayden. “He told management that if they didn’t support Shane over wanting to be with you, Ilya, that the entire Metros roster would sit out matches in support, damn the consequences. He got every single player on the team on board with that.”

Ilya looked at Hayden, a look of almost awe on his face. “Thank you for supporting my Shane, Hayden. You are good friend, to both of us.”

Hayden was blushing now but they all ignored that. “I’d do anything for the two of you.”

Thankfully, the tone changed towards something a little less heavy after that, and Shane sat back quietly, letting Hayden and Cliff talk to Ilya about anything and everything. It was nice seeing Ilya with a smile on his face again, and it was only when he could see his fiance tiring that Shane stepped in, politely wrapping up the visit.

“You will be back, yes?” Ilya asked, and for a moment, Shane realised how vulnerable Ilya was still feeling, especially with his friendships.

“Of course we will,” Cliff said, Hayden nodding by his side. “I have a few games coming up but I’ll be back after those are over.”

“And I’m here for a couple of days. Uh, Jackie was wondering if she could fly out to see you, if you’re up for that? We won’t bring the kids here, but I know Jackie would love to see you.”

“I would like that, thank you,” Ilya smiled, fighting back a yawn. “Sorry, I am so tired.”

“We’ll let you rest. See you soon, Roz,” Cliff said, and he came in for a quick hug, followed by Hayden. They headed for the door, and Shane turned quickly to his fiance.

“I’ll see them out, I’ll be right back. Sleep if you’re tired, I’ll be here when you wake up.” They shared a quick kiss and Shane walked out behind his friends, finding them waiting for an elevator. “Thank you both so much for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“It’s just so fucking good to see him awake,” Cliff admitted. “It felt for a while like we wouldn’t get him back.”

“You… you think he looks okay?” Shane asked, needing to know their opinion.

“I do,” Hayden replied. “He’s got a long way to go for sure, but he’s got a lot of support. And so do you. Don’t forget that, okay? Call us if you need anything.”

Shane hugged his friends quickly before they stepped into the elevator, leaving him to go back to Ilya. He smiled at the sight of a tired Ilya resting back against his pillows, and he closed the door behind him with a soft click. Ilya stirred, opening one eye just enough to check it was Shane before he relaxed again.

“Sorry, go back to sleep,” Shane whispered, coming over to tuck Ilya’s blankets around him to keep him warm. “That was good, huh?”

“Mm hmm,” Ilya mumbled, reaching out a hand for Shane. “Come. Hold my hand?”

“Always,” Shane said, sitting on Ilya’s left, taking his hand, watching as Ilya turned his head towards Shane. “You doing okay?”

Ilya nodded, and Shane quickly dimmed the lights, letting Ilya look back at him. “Cliff say you post statement?”

Shane sighed. “I… I didn’t want to tell you. Not yet. But yeah. I… I had to say something. Are you angry?”

“No. I know you do what you think is best.” Ilya smiled, pulling Shane’s hand and arm closer, almost hugging it. “Can I see?”

Shane pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled to Instagram, pulling up his profile. Usually, he didn’t use it for anything except professional posts about hockey or for his brand deal posts, but he’d broken that when he’d posted the statement his Mom and Farah had helped him to write. 

“Read it to me? Hurts my head to read.”

Shane nodded, taking a breath before he read the words aloud.

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything about my personal life. I wanted it to stay personal. But after what happened and the footage from the accident got out, I wasn’t really given a choice anymore. Some of the worst moments of our lives were filmed and shared without our consent, before either of us could really process what was happening. So allow me to say this only once. I’m in love with Ilya Rozanov, and we’ve been together for a while now.”

He looked to Ilya, seeing his brow was furrowed, concentrating on Shane’s words so he continued.

“I know people will have their opinions on us. I can’t stop any of that. What I care about right now is Ilya. He's alive, and that’s all I can focus on right now. My only job is to be here with him, however he needs me. That’s it. Hockey can wait. Everything else can wait. I’m not asking anyone to understand our relationship, or to know what to say right now. But please just remember that what you saw was the worst moment of my life. It wasn’t entertainment. It was two people who thought that they were going to lose each other.”

His voice cracked then, and Ilya tugged him closer, breathing heavily against Shane’s arm.

“I hope that our families, our teammates, the League, and everyone who follows and supports our careers will give us the space to get through this together and not turn it into something bigger than it needs to be. I would appreciate both your support, and privacy.” 

Shane could feel himself tearing up, remembering how raw he’d felt typing out these words. 

“I am not ashamed of loving him. I never have been. I just wish the world had found out under different circumstances. Thank you to everyone who has already reached out with kindness. It means more than I can really put into words.”

“Shane…”

Shane cleared his throat, reading out the final line, the one he’d added without asking Farah and his Mom if it was okay. “I hope none of you ever know what it feels like to hold the person you love and wonder if those are the last moments you’ll ever have together. The only thing I've been certain of since that day is that I never want him to question, not even for a second, how deeply he's loved.”

He looked at Ilya, seeing he was struggling to hold himself together. 

“You… you do not hate me?”

Shane was shocked by that. “What? Why would I hate you?”

“I… you had to do this for me. Be out. I ruin this-”

“Hey, no,” Shane said, turning so he was looking Ilya straight in the eye. “You ruined nothing. Do I wish it had happened differently? That we had control of this? Yes, of course. I wish we could’ve done it together. But if we had to be outed, then I’m glad it was because it was so obvious that I’m so in love with you, that I didn’t leave your side. I can never regret that.”

“You are sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything,” Shane said, sealing his words with a kiss. “I know I didn’t say anything about us being engaged but I felt like-“

Ilya stopped him, a look of utter astonishment on his face. “Shane, what? Engaged?”

Shane cursed himself for a moment, realising that of course Ilya wouldn’t remember it, given the accident was a blank space in his mind. “Shit- I… I didn’t realise, I should’ve told you in a better way.”

“Shane, I do not care how you say but please tell me. I hate I do not remember.”

With a big inhale, Shane nodded and took Ilya’s hand. “You were trapped. I… I didn’t know if you were going to get out before… well. You know. So I told you that I’d got you a ring, that I was going to ask you to marry me. And you just… you said yes.”

“You ask me to marry you?”

Shane let out a wet laugh, brushing away the tears from his eyes at the bittersweet memory. “Not in so many words, but you were adamant. You said your answer was yes.”

Ilya gave Shane an emotional smile, clutching Shane’s hand tightly in his good hand. “I am always certain of this, Shane.”  He looked at Shane for a moment, arching an eyebrow. “There is something else.” Shane just gave a small nod. “Tell me?”

Shane cleared his throat before he spoke, feeling a bit nervous, although he wasn’t sure why. He was fairly certain Ilya wouldn’t be changing his mind, that he hadn’t just said it on a whim. “You said you… wanted my name.”

Ilya bit his bottom lip, just staring at Shane now. “I… I have been thinking this. And I still want it, if you will let me.”

“Fuck, of course, I want nothing more,” Shane laughed, pulling Ilya gently into a kiss, their lips pressing firmly against each other. They sank into it for a moment before Ilya pulled away, his next words surprising Shane.

“Take photo. Post it.”

“Of you?”

“Of us,” Ilya corrected gently, and Shane just stared at him. “Shane, I am sure. Do it. Please.”

Shane shifted them so that he was beside Ilya, tugging him into his side. He opened the camera app on his phone and let their faces fill the screen. He tilted his head, resting it on top of Ilya’s, his eyes closed. He snapped a few photos and then turned the phone, checking them with ilya.

“That one,” Ilya said, and Shane nodded, agreeing. His heart started to race as he typed out a caption, tagging Ilya so that the photo would appear on both of their grids.

“This okay?”

@shanehollanderhockeyplayer: There was a moment I thought I might lose you. But you’re here, and we have a whole lifetime ahead of us. I love you more than words will ever be enough for, Ilya. ❤️

Ilya nodded, looking emotional now. “Post it.”

Shane did, and he held his breath as the likes and comments started pouring in. He quickly locked his phone and put it face down on the side table, not needing to deal with the aftermath of that right now. All that mattered was the man in his arms. 

“Go to sleep. You’re so tired…”

“You will be here?”

“I’m never going anywhere,” Shane reminded him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Ilya’s lips. “Never again.”

Chapter End Notes

Next up…

Time jumps and meetings…

Chapter 18: You think you're lost, but you're not lost on your own

Chapter Summary

Like a wobbly toddler.

Pleased with any hand.

A full support team.

Chapter Notes

A little bit of a gentler one after all the angst I've put you through!

Hope you like it. Thank you as always for your beautiful comments.

xx

3 weeks later

“You’ll be fine, honey,” Yuna reassured him as Shane busied himself with sorting out the mess that Ilya’s bedside cabinet had become. Shane knew that he was only doing such a ridiculously boring task because he was so anxious about Ilya but he also knew that he needed to keep himself busy if he was going to prevent himself from spiralling. “Right, Shane?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Shane answered, folding the few pictures that the Pike children had sent with Hayden on his last visit and tucking them against the side of the cupboard. “Mom, can you give us a minute?”

Yuna nodded with a smile, like she understood why her boys needed a few moments alone. “Sure, I’ll go and grab us some coffee. Ilya, do you want anything?”

“No, thank you,” he said with a soft smile, and Yuna pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before she did the same to Shane and then finally left them alone. Ilya sighed and leaned back against the pillows, staring at Shane. “Sheynka. Come here, moya lyubov.”

Shane reluctantly put down the pile of magazines David had been bringing in for Ilya and walked over to the bed. Ilya had shuffled across, leaving space and Shane climbed on, kicking off his shoes before he lifted his feet onto the bed, the two hockey players squished on a single bed that was definitely only made for one, but neither of them minded.

“Tell me what is on your mind.”

“Today isn’t about me. It’s a huge deal for you-”

Ilya quickly shook his head. “This is big for both of us, yes? I know this. So tell me. What is happening in here?” As he said his last words, Ilya tapped the fingers of his left hand on Shane’s forehead, waiting quietly for his answer.

Shane paused for a moment, wondering how much to say before realising that Ilya had only ever wanted honesty, and that it had always been that way between them. “I’m nervous. I just… I know it’s a good thing they’re taking the fixator off, but then we’re going to get answers. And whatever they say is going to dictate what our lives become.”

Ilya just nodded thoughtfully. “You can still play hockey, lyubimyy, even if I cannot.”

“I don’t think I want to play without you,” Shane whispered, like the words were too delicate to speak any louder. “Ever since I can remember, you’ve been the one that I love to play against. I’ve always played better because of you, and I don’t know if I can or want to do that without you.”

Ilya took Shane’s hand, holding it gently. Shane stared down at Ilya’s right side, at where the metal fixator was still mounted onto his arms, the metal pins piercing the skin as they held his bones together, desperately trying to heal and salvage any kind of functionality that they could. 

“We will deal with it when we know, yes? I cannot work with what if. Only fact.”

“I get that,” Shane replied, bringing Ilya’s hand to his lips and kissing it gently. “They’ll be here soon to take you for an x-ray.”

“You will wait here for me?”

“Always,” Shane replied with a soft smile. “How did your PT go yesterday? Did you manage to stand?”

“Fifteen seconds,” Ilya said with a roll of his eyes. “Pathetic, no? I am hockey player and they celebrate few seconds on my feet like I am wobbly toddler.”

“Yeah, they celebrated it because you almost died, Ilya. There was a time we didn’t know if you’d even open your eyes again, so yeah, we’re going to be excited that you’re standing up on your own two feet again.”

It was so quiet for a moment that Shane could’ve heard a pin drop. He shifted his body so he could look at his fiance, and was a little surprised to see Ilya’s face crumple.

“Oh god, I’m sorry-”

“No, is okay,” Ilya insisted, using his left hand to wipe under his eyes. “I just… I forget sometimes. That you had to see this. That you did not know if I would live. Is hard to hear. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. You didn’t choose any of this.” Shane waited for a moment before he asked the question that he’d been waiting to ask, certain Ilya would say no  but he had to ask. “Can I come to your next PT session with you?”

Ilya’s head snapped around and he was looking at Shane with a look of incredulity. “You are kidding?”

Shane scrunched up his face in confusion. “No? Why would I be kidding?”

“I do not-” Ilya suddenly pressed his lips together, like he was hiding his words.

“You don’t what?”

Ilya looked down at their joined hands as he spoke, not meeting Shane’s eyes. “I do not want you to see me weak.”

“Ilya… fuck, baby, I don’t think you’re weak. Jesus, how could you ever think that? You literally-” Shane choked up then, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve survived more than anybody should have to.”

His thumb moved back and forth over Ilya’s knuckles absentmindedly as Shane became lost in his own thoughts.

“I watched you fight to stay alive when you were trapped, I saw how much taking every breath hurt you but you did it anyway. I watched your body fight to keep you with me when you were in the coma. Your body… it could’ve given up so many times. But it didn’t… you didn’t.”

Ilya gave him a small smile so Shane carried on, never tiring of telling Ilya just how amazing he was, how strong Shane knew he was.

“Then you woke up. And everything was different for you. You weren’t the person you were used to being. You couldn’t move, you were dealing with life changing injuries. But look at you now, hmm? Rebuilding yourself bit by bit, because you’re so fucking determined to be the best man that you can be-”

“For you,” Ilya cut in, but Shane quickly shook his head.

“No, for you. Because that’s who you are. Someone who will always fight, in every single sense. So don’t you dare sit there and tell me you’re weak. I wish I had even half of your strength, Ilyusha.”

“Shane…”

“No. Please don’t say that again, okay? The fact that you’re here with me, talking, holding my hand, loving me… it’s a fucking miracle. Even when you were asleep, your body was choosing to live. And that is strength. So let me support you with this, okay? Because you know what?”

“What?” Ilya asked, a small smile crossing his face, echoing the one on Shane’s own face now.

“We’re getting married,” Shane grinned, still finding it almost surreal to say those words. “And that’s what marriage is about, okay? Getting through the tough times together. Being by each other’s sides. For better or for worse. You’re not alone, okay? Let me be here for you.”

Ilya gave a small nod. “Okay. Is just… hard. To ask for help.”

“I know. That’s why you’re not asking, and why I’m giving it anyway. Because I love you and I’m always going to be here with you. You’re not alone, Ilya. Don't forget that.”

They kissed softly, only parting when a soft knock on the door interrupted them. Shane sat up and swung his legs around, socked feet just landing on the floor when two nurses and a porter walked in.

“Sorry to interrupt,” one of the nurses said with a smile, heading towards the bed. “We’re here to take Ilya to X-ray.”

The couple nodded, and Shane gave Ilya a quick kiss. “I’ll wait here for you, okay?”

“Thank you. And… yes. Please. Come to PT. Help me get strong.”

“Stronger,” Shane corrected, winking at Ilya. “See you soon, дорогой.” 

Thankfully, the X-ray didn’t take too long, and Ilya was back with the doctors, explaining they were satisfied Ilya’s bones had healed enough they could look to remove the fixator later that day. Ilya had squeezed Shane’s hand at that, and when they were alone, he let out a long sigh, sinking himself against Shane’s chest as he held him.

“Hey, this is good, okay? This is what you wanted, to get this thing off your arm.”

Ilya hummed in agreement but he stayed where he was, his cheek resting on Shane’s pec. Shane waited for Ilya to say something more, but when he didn’t, he decided he needed to get his fiance to open up and talk about what was on his mind.

“Talk to me, Ilya. Don’t keep it all inside.”

“I… I am scared.”

Shane had an idea why but he needed to hear Ilya’s own words.

“About?”

“If it is not going to get better. If this is the best I can get.”

“Well, we don’t know that yet, okay? I… I thought they were going to amputate your arm at one point. They told me that it might be necessary, that I might have to make that decision in order to save your life. And I would’ve done it, because I needed you to live.” He saw Ilya’s eyebrows raise slightly at that. “You still have your arm. Maybe it won’t be the same as it was before, but we can work with whatever you have left, okay?”

“I know, but…” 

Shane could see Ilya’s cheeks were a little pink now, and he wondered what on earth was going on Ilya’s head now to make him blush. 

“Spit it out, Rozanov.”

Ilya lifted his head, glaring at Shane but he sighed, closing his eyes as he spoke. “Is my right hand.”

“Okay…”

A frustrated sigh erupted from Ilya then. “How can I wank, Shane?”

Shane didn’t mean to laugh, but the fact that Ilya’s main concern appeared to be a sexual one rather than a hockey one was so Ilya, it was almost ridiculous. “Oh god-”

“Is serious problem, Shane! Is one of my favourite things. And… what if I can’t… pleasure you?”

Shane stopped laughing, realising that actually, Ilya was genuinely worried about it. 

“Then we learn how to do things differently. You have your left hand, and I have my hands. I know sex is important to us, but we can work through it, okay?”

“You say this now. But when I cannot make you come-”

“It’s not just your hands that make me come, remember?” Shane said, very grateful they were alone for this conversation. “But I say that because it’s true. We can have a lot of fun together figuring out how sex works for us now.”

Ilya sighed, and Shane could tell he hadn’t quite reassured him just yet. “You do not understand.”

“Then help me understand. Please?”

“I… have always needed my body. For hockey, for work… for you. Is how I got you, yes? In showers. You like what you see and… we hook up. Then we keep doing this, and I can see how much you enjoy my body. It gives me confidence. What if… it is never same again?”

Shane hadn’t realised just how deeply Ilya’s insecurities ran, and while he knew his words wouldn’t be enough, not just yet, he had to try.

“Ilya, I love your body. I’ll be honest, yeah, it’s what first caught my attention. You were fucking gorgeous. But then I got to know you, and that’s what I fell in love with. Your beautiful body was just a bonus. If you think I’m not going to be turned on by you now or that I’ll walk away because maybe it won’t be the same as before… then you don’t know me very well. You’re still my Ilya.”

Ilya gave him a wobbly smile, and Shane knew he needed to break the tension.

“Besides, it’s only your arm that’s affected, right? Your mouth and your dick are still good, so we’ll be just fine.”

“Asshole!” Ilya laughed, playfully shoving at Shane before he pulled him back into a tight hug. “You mean this, though? Is not turn off I am broken?”

“Firstly, you’re not broken. Stop saying that. And no, it’s not a turn off. I promise. I can’t wait until we can be alone and I can take you apart.”

They kissed then, and for the first time, Shane allowed Ilya to deepen the kiss, moaning in the back of his throat when Ilya’s tongue sought out his own. 

“I love you, okay? And I’d still love you even if your dick fell off.”

“Romantic,” Ilya said, rolling his eyes but he was smiling, which is all Shane wanted.

“Too right,” Shane grinned, cupping Ilya’s cheek. “Trust me, it’ll take a lot more than this to get rid of me, Rozanov.”

2 days later

The removal of Ilya’s external fixator had been a success. Ilya and his medical team had decided to put him under a general anaesthetic for the removal, and Shane had spent too long pacing up and down the corridor of the surgical floor again, getting a little lost in his head until Yuna had appeared, sitting Shane down and waiting by his side until Ilya’s surgeon came out, telling him the procedure had been a success. 

Ilya had been groggy but delighted to see his arm without the hardware that had been part of it for the past few weeks. It was bandaged and swollen, but already, Shane could see that it looked much better than it had after his initial surgery. They still had to wait a few more days before they could begin to assess Ilya’s functionality and sensations, but he felt with every step they took, that they were heading in the right direction.

“You look good,” Shane grinned, helping Ilya pull down the t-shirt he’d chosen for him. It was the first time the doctors had agreed to let Ilya get dressed in normal clothes, and he’d made Shane emotional when he’d asked if he could wear something of Shane’s. “Is it nice to wear clothes again?”

“Yes, am sick of gowns,” Ilya said, letting Shane wriggle some sweatpants up his legs. His legs had healed better than anyone had expected, and it was really only the scars at his hips and thighs that told Shane anything had happened. “Will be nice not to have my ass out all the time.”

“Not nice for me, I enjoyed that view,” Shane grinned, pinging the elastic waistband into place on Ilya’s stomach. He was so much thinner than before, and Shane knew Ilya was self-conscious about it so he didn’t linger, pulling the t-shirt down to cover his stomach. “How was Svetlana?”

“Good. She will come back next week. I miss her.”

“Me too,” Shane admitted truthfully. “I can see why she’s such an important part of your life.” Svetlana had returned to Boston the day before, apologising to Ilya that she couldn’t take any more leave. He’d told her it was fine, but she promised to keep visiting every weekend until he was discharged, which both Shane and Ilya were hoping would be sooner rather than later. “And you’re ready for this meeting?”

“No,” Ilya admitted as Shane fiddled with his curls with his fingers. All of the cuts on his head had long since healed, and Shane had been able to help Ilya with his first shower since the accident the evening before. He’d stripped himself to his boxers, helping Ilya onto the shower chair before he’d helped wash him, Ilya finally relaxing and just allowing Shane to take care of him. “But is necessary.”

“It is. I’m sure they’re going to be great.”

“Metros were not.”

“Doesn’t mean the Raiders won’t be. They love you. And if they’re assholes, we’ll leave.”

A while later, Shane helped Ilya transfer into his wheelchair, something he knew Ilya hated but had to put up with for now until his strength grew enough to walk again. He unlocked the brakes and stood behind him, walking him out of the door. The two smiled at nurses and doctors as they walked past, and Shane realised how much he would miss these people once they had the all-clear to leave.

They finally arrived at the conference room that Yuna had convinced the hospital to let them use for the meeting, and Shane peered inside, seeing that the Boston Raiders coach, GM and other people were inside. He could also see Cliff Marleau, Connors, St. Simon and Hammersmith inside too, all wearing Raiders hoodies.

“You want to do this by yourself? I can wait here…”

“What? No. Shane, please-”

“Okay, I’ll come. I just… I didn’t want to force myself into the meeting if you’d rather do it by yourself.”

“We are team now, yes? Husbands.”

“Not yet,” Shane grinned, loving how much Ilya loved to use that word to describe them even if neither of them had any idea how long it would be until they were officially husbands. “But yeah, we’re definitely a team. You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Shane turned them so that he could open the door with his back, and wheeled Ilya inside. Cliff jumped up and held the door for them as Shane muttered his thanks, pushing Ilya over to the table and then sitting next to him. Cliff then sat on Ilya’s other side, and Shane felt beyond grateful for the good people in Ilya’s life. 

Shane’s heart felt even more full when the GM and Coach LeClaire immediately got up, rounding the table to come and shake Ilya’s hands, then Shane’s, which was more the Metros staff had done for him, even though he’d been in the accident too.

“It is so good to see you up and about, Rozanov,” said LeClaire with a smile, settling back into his seat. “How are you doing?”

“Am okay,” Ilya said as he brushed off the question, reaching for Shane’s hand, like he needed to know he was there by his side. “Has been hard.”

“I’m sure,” LeClaire said, glancing at the GM and then back at Ilya and Shane again. “You know why we’re here, but there’s something we wanted to say first.” 

A silence settled for a moment before LeClaire started talking again.

“First of all, we all want to congratulate you on your relationship. Both of you. I’m not going to say we weren’t surprised because, quite frankly, this was the last thing we expected to find out.”

“Was meant to be private,” Ilya said, but there was no anger in his tone. “We did not intend it to become… circus.”

“And we respect that. We just wish we’d been able to hear it from you rather than some video on Twitter.”

Shane sighed, speaking up for the first time. “We know. Us too. We didn’t want it to happen like this.”

“That being said,” Leclaire continued, glancing between both men who were now holding hands on top of the table, nothing left to hide anymore. “Our concern isn’t your relationship. It’s your health, Ilya, and how we help you deal with whatever comes next.”

“Meaning?” Shane asked, wanting them to be clear.

“Media attention. Questions about your relationship, how it’s affected your hockey playing. Marleau and the rest of the team has assured me it’s never played a part in any of your games, but the rest of the world doesn’t know that.”

“They think I… let Shane win?”

“Or that he lets you win,” Leclaire said with a shrug. “Although I can see by your faces, that’s not something that we have to worry about.”

“I’d rather quit playing hockey than let Ilya win, and I know he feels the same,” Shane said, making everyone around the table smile. “He makes me play better, he always has. I love beating him because I know if I do, that I’ve earned it. We might be in love, but we’re still competitive people. And we’re professionals doing a job.”

“Good to hear,” the GM said, speaking up for the first time. “Can I ask how long this has been a thing between you? It won’t go any further than this room.”

Shane looked at Ilya, giving him a small nod so that Ilya knew he could answer.

“Since before rookie season,” Ilya admitted, and Shane smiled at how even the other Raiders players looked shocked at that. “And serious for two years now. You have only had an Ilya Rozanov on the Raiders that belongs to Shane Hollander. Am not sure there is another kind.”

“Fuck, man,” Marleau said, shaking his head in what Shane felt was disbelief. “How the fuck did you lock Hollander down so early?”

“Anyway,” the GM said, keen to get the conversation back on track. “We aren’t here today to pressure you, far from it. We are here to check in and see how you are, and to reassure you.”

“About?” Ilya asked,

“That you will always have a place with the Raiders, and everything that has happened doesn’t change that. Whether it takes you three months, six months, a year or two to come back, we will wait for you, Ilya. And whatever we can to help, we will. You’ve been an outstanding Captain since we drafted you, and now it’s our turn to have your back.”

As happy as Shane was for Ilya, he also ached for the fact that his own team should’ve reacted this way, instead of trying to force him back to work before he was ready. He could see Ilya was incredibly moved and was struggling to talk.

“It’s really nice to hear you say that,” Shane said heartfully.

“It’s not just empty words, Shane. Sorry, can I call you Shane?” Shane nodded. “We’ve seen how our players have jumped on planes after games to fly out here and see you and Rozanov for a few hours. We’ve seen how they wear their armbands for every game, loudly supporting the two of you. And we stand behind our players. If they’re supporting their Captain, then so are we.”

“Thank you,” Ilya said, his face betraying little emotion but Shane knew that was far from the truth.

“Marleau has done a great job leading in your absence,” Leclaire said, St. Simon and Connors nodding in agreement. “The team has been strong, and we’ve been impressed. You have built such a strong team that they can play well in your absence.”

“They are good team,” Ilya agreed, and Shane nodded too because it was true.

“So. Can we have a conversation about where you are medically?”

Ilya looked at Shane. “Can you…”

“Of course,” Shane agreed, letting Ilya hold his hand a little tighter. “Ilya had the external fixator on his arm removed a couple of days ago. He’s still healing, and we’re waiting for tests to find out how severe the damage is to his arm. There’s still a possibility he’ll need additional surgery but we don’t know if that’s the case just yet.”

The team nodded, and Shane could see that they were surprised by what he was saying.

“His leg has had pins put in place to help Ilya’s leg heal as strongly as it could. They’re happy with his progress so far, and his pelvis is healing well too. He’s begun PT but it’s going to be a slow process to get him walking again. He also had a punctured lung in the accident but the doctors have scanned Ilya’s chest and have said it’s healed.”

“Jesus. That’s a lot,” Leclaire admitted, rubbing his hands over his face, letting out a long sigh. “I’m really sorry you’re dealing with all of this, Rozanov. What about you, Hollander?”

Shane blinked in surprise. “Me?”

“Yes, you. You were in the accident with Rozanov, you were hurt. Are you healing?”

Shane felt emotional that this team didn’t just care about the wellbeing of one of their own, but of his partner as well. “I’m okay. I dislocated my shoulder but they were able to reduce it, it’s almost back to normal. I had bruised ribs, a sprained ankle. Cuts and bruises, so I got off lightly compared to Ilya.”

“Physically, maybe. But you’ve also had to sit there and watch your boyfriend fight for his life. That takes its toll.”

It was the first time that someone outside of his own circle had acknowledged out loud how hard it must have been for Shane to watch Ilya in such desperate circumstances. He nodded before looking down at the table, unable to speak for a moment while he collected himself.

“It was hard. It still is, because I can see how tough all of this is for Ilya. And he still has a fight ahead of him, but he’s not alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You have us too, Cap,” Cliff said, and Connors and St. Simon chimed in, agreeing easily with the sentiment. “You too, Shane. But I hope you know that by now.”

“I do. Thanks, guys,” Shane said, and Ilya started to change the direction of the conversation, asking how the season had been going without him. It was back to something everyone was comfortable talking about, and the room instantly felt lighter. Ilya too seemed like a weight had been lifted, and Shane took the opportunity to just watch Ilya talk animatedly again, grinning when Cliff talked him through some of the Raiders victories. 

It was Ilya looking tired an hour later that caused Shane to bring the meeting to a close. They’d all agreed that Ilya and Shane would stay in regular contact with the Raiders GM and Coach to keep them updated of his condition, and they shook both of their hands, leaving them alone with Ilya’s teammates.

Shane led them back to Ilya’s room, transferring him from the chair to the bed with a practised ease, and he stood back as Ilya’s friends dropped into chairs around the bed, chatting easily with their Captain.

“I’m going to go and get some drinks, you guys want coffee?” Shane asked, and they all grinned and nodded in Shane’s direction. Ilya, though, held out his hand and Shane went over, laughing as Ilya tugged him in, pressing a firm kiss to his lips, right in front of both of his teammates. “What was that for?”

“Because I love you,” Ilya said, not caring who was listening. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” Ilya grinned, and Shane stood up, clapping a hand on Marleau’s shoulder as he walked past. The four men quickly started talking amongst themselves, and Shane just stood in the doorway watching. A few weeks ago, this would’ve felt like a distant dream, something Shane didn’t dare to believe could happen. It would’ve felt impossible.

The conversation was light, easy, and Shane could see how relaxed Ilya looked now. His injured arm was propped up on a pillow, and his head was resting back against his pillows. It wasn’t perfect - Ilya still had a long way to go, and Shane knew that some days would be harder than others. But they were here. Ilya was here.

Shane glanced back one last time through the open doorway. Ilya caught his eye, smiling brighter than Shane had ever seen him smile before, and Shane returned it without hesitation.

He felt calm in a way he hadn’t for so long. Right now, the future didn’t feel overwhelmingly frightening. It felt like something worth looking forward to.

Chapter End Notes

Up next...

Shane and Ilya put things into their own words.

Shane finds a way to motivate Ilya... ;)

 

We're approaching my favourite chapters.... :D

Chapter 19: I Would For You

Chapter Summary

Shane approved motivation...

Home is each other.

Still want everything with you...

Chapter Notes

It's starting to feel like that HEA tag is heading our way, right?!

Still not quite at my favourite chapter but we're almost there.... ;)

Enjoy xxx

2 weeks later

“Ilya, stop scowling,” Shane said with a grin from where he was sitting on the floor, just watching the PT put Ilya through his paces. As much as Shane knew Ilya was still struggling with letting his fiance be part of his physiotherapy sessions, it was good for Shane to be able to see Ilya’s progress, and for him to know how to help his fiance when they weren’t in the therapy room. “You’re doing so great.”

“Ah, yes, I did twelve steps, bravo Ilya,” he muttered as the physio encouraged Ilya to raise his leg a little against the resistance band. “Fuck-”

“One more Ilya,” Toby said encouragingly, pushing Ilya a little much to the Russian’s annoyance. “Good job.”

Ilya mumbled something in Russian that Shane was almost certain was an insult but he ignored it, hopping to his feet and walking over to where Ilya had flopped back on the mat, an arm thrown across his face.

“Well, this is all very dramatic,” he laughed, putting his feet either side of Ilya’s hips and looking down at him. “Come on, up you get.”

“не хочу,” Ilya grumbled, still keeping his face covered. “Уходите.”

“No, I won’t leave,” Shane returned in English for the benefit of Toby, who was looking on with interest. “And neither will you. I know you hate this, but you’re getting stronger every day.”

“Shane is right,” said Toby, walking over to stand next to Shane. He was a big man, just as tall as Shane but not quite as built. “It probably feels like progress is slow for you, Ilya, because you’re an athlete. But trust me when I tell you you’ve come further in just two weeks than some of my patients do in a month or two.”

Ilya finally removed the arm from his eyes, looking between the two men above him. “You are serious?”

“I don’t joke about my job,” Toby said, holding out a hand. Shane did the same. “Come on, let’s get you up. Shane can help you try walking again.”

“I can walk,” Ilya grumbled as the two men hauled him to his feet. When he was up onto his feet, Shane grabbed Ilya’s gait belt and helped him steady himself, getting his balance before he released his hold a little. “Bars?”

“Let’s just try here,” Toby suggested, surprising both Ilya and Shane. “You’ve done really well with the bars so far. We’re both here and we can catch you if something goes wrong. But I have a feeling it won’t. Go for it.”

Ilya looked at Shane, and he saw a brief look of fear flash across his face so Shane stepped slightly closer, smiling softly at his fiance.

“Two months ago, you were in a coma. Now you’re on your feet and learning to walk again. Do you have any idea how fucking proud I am?”

Ilya couldn’t help but smile back. He pushed his shoulders back, stepping forward with his right leg, the one that hadn’t been as badly injured. The movement was jerky, not smooth like walking had been previously, but Toby had assured him that they’d work on the finesse of everything once he was more confident with walking.

“Good. Keep going,” Shane encouraged, and Ilya hesitated before he took another step, his foot landing a little heavier this time. He still had pain in the leg the doctors had pinned together, but Shane knew Ilya was still refusing the stronger painkillers, still wary of them for reasons Shane understood. It didn’t make watching him in visible pain any easier, though.

“Ilya, push your shoulders back, don’t hunch,” Toby instructed, walking at Ilya’s side, while Shane continued to step back in front of him, arms ready to catch him if needed. “Good, keep going. Try not to pause so long between steps. Make them smaller, it doesn’t need to be a stride just yet.”

“Am trying,” Ilya said through gritted teeth, and Shane could see the determination locked in on his face. “Fucking hurts-”

“You make it to the door and I’ll make it worth your while,” Shane said quietly, hopefully quietly enough that Toby wouldn’t hear his own version of motivating Ilya. He saw Ilya’s eyes come up to meet his, and his stomach flipped as Ilya’s eyes darkened.

“How?”

“Use your imagination,” Shane said with a grin, taking another step back. “Come on, baby.”

It was only another twenty or so steps to the door, but Ilya gritted his teeth, taking the first few much steadier than he had before. It was like Shane’s incentive was doing exactly as he had hoped, and before long, there were just five or six steps to go.

“Fuck-” Ilya gritted out, staggering with his last two. “Shane-”

He took his step and lurched forward, with Shane meeting him halfway and letting Ilya collapse into his arms. He was strong enough to bear Ilya’s weight, and with Toby’s help, they both lowered Ilya to the ground. As soon as Ilya sat on the floor, Toby stood up and gave the two some privacy, heading back over to the desk where he sat and started making notes.

“How are you feeling?” Shane asked carefully, hoping Ilya would take the question in the way it was meant.

“Tired,” Ilya admitted, and Shane quickly moved himself so that he was sitting behind his fiance, letting Ilya lean back against him. “Is so hard, Shane.”

“I know. But look how far you’ve come,” Shane said, kissing the side of Ilya’s head. “I’m proud of you. Я тебя люблю.” I love you.

“я тоже тебя люблю,” Ilya said softly in reply. “Can we go back now?”

“Sure,” Shane said, making sure Ilya was balanced before he stood up. He held out his hands. “Up you come.”

He helped hoist Ilya up as Toby brought the wheelchair over. He’d been very strict about Ilya not pushing himself too hard, and surprisingly, Ilya had listened, making sure to sit in the chair whenever he was told. Shane knew how much Ilya wanted to be discharged, and so far, he was toeing the line with everything he was being told. 

They thanked Toby and promised to see him the next day, Shane taking charge of pushing Ilya’s chair out of the room and towards the elevators. As they entered the main foyer of the hospital, they both grinned as they saw two very familiar faces walking in.

“Yuna, David! Is good to see you!” Ilya called, even though he’d seen Shane’s parents just the morning before. “You are coming up?”

“Of course, why else would we be here?” Yuna grinned, and the four of them got into the elevator together, David automatically pressing the button for the fourth floor where Ilya was still staying. “How was your PT?”

“Good. I manage more walking,” Ilya said, and Shane could hear the pride in his voice. “Have made good plan with Shane.”

“Ilya-” Shane said warningly, his voice low.

“Oh? What’s that?” David asked, and before Shane could say a word, Ilya spoke again.

“If I walk, I get reward,” Ilya grinned, and Shane just groaned, closing his eyes and tilting his face up to the ceiling. Thankfully, the doors slid open before Ilya could say anything more, so Shane grabbed the handles of Ilya’s chair, pushing him out quickly.

“Oh, good idea,” David said with a smile, falling into step next to Shane. “What is it, if you walk ten steps, he’ll get you McDonalds?”

“Uh, no, something Shane approved, David, never McDonalds,” Ilya said with a wink, and Shane watched in real time as the tips of David’s ears turned red just like his own.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said under his breath, as David just fishmouthed, whereas Yuna looked almost resigned to her fate. “Enough, Ilya.”

“Am not sorry,” Ilya chuckled, pulling Shane down into a brief kiss. He let Shane help get him onto the bed, and the two shared a look, knowing what they’d decided to talk to Yuna and David about on their next visit. “Uh-”

“We both wanted to talk to you about something,” Shane said when everyone was settled, Shane on the edge of the bed next to Ilya, which had become his regular spot.

“Sounds serious,” Yuna said, and Shane just shrugged, knowing that maybe it was. “Go on, then.”

“Ilya’s getting a lot better,” Shane started as Ilya pushed his hand into Shane’s, threading their fingers together. “And we think that maybe it’s time you guys headed home.”

Yuna and David both just blinked at them, clearly surprised by the suggestion. They shared a look before Yuna spoke.

“We… want to be here, to support both of you.”

“I know. And we appreciate that you’ve both been here for us through everything. But at some point, you need to go home. And maybe now is the time. We need to learn to… do this on our own, I guess.”

As always, though, Yuna and David seemed to understand, nodding carefully.

“You know if you need us, we can fly straight back,” David said, smiling softly at the couple in front of him. “Anything at all. We mean that.”

“We know.”

“Then let us order in tonight. Let’s have one last meal together before you come home, hmm?” Yuna suggested, and Shane grinned at the suggestion. “You two decide what we eat.”

“Sure, that would be great. Do you think you could stay tomorrow until we’ve done the interview? I’d really like you there. You know what these people can be like…”

After plenty of requests, Shane and Ilya had finally decided to give one interview to the press following everything that had happened. Yuna and Farah had worked together to pick a publication that would be supportive of Shane and Ilya without being too sensationalist or opportunistic. The journalist was coming the following morning, and the closer it got, the more Shane’s anxiety over it grew.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Yuna assured him. “Are Cliff and Hayden still coming?”

Shane nodded. “Yeah. We thought it would be good to have them talk about everything from a hockey point of view, on behalf of the teams.”

“I think that’s a good plan,” Yuna agreed, kicking off her shoes as she usually did when she was relaxed in Ilya’s room. “It’s going to be great, you know.”

“I hope so,” Shane said, leaning back against Ilya’s pillow, hoping that he wasn’t going to end up regretting their decision. Only time would tell.

The next morning; 11.30am

“This is hilarious,” Ilya laughed from his hospital bed, pointing at Shane, Cliff and Hayden who were standing in a row, just staring back at him. “You are all stupid.”

“Well, that’s fucking rude,” Shane snapped, looking down at the Raiders t-shirt that he was wearing, the one he’d thought was a good idea just a few minutes ago. Cliff was wearing an identical one, but Hayden was wearing a yellow polo shirt with black jeans. “I think I look good.”

“Ah, you look more than good, moy lyubimyy,” Ilya said, waggling his eyebrows at him. “But Hayden, you do not match.”

“I’m not wearing a rival team's merch,” Hayden said, looking disgusted at the thought. “Boston colours is the best you’re going to get. I cannot believe you’re wearing that, Shane!”

“I love you guys, but the Metros management have been assholes. So… there are consequences for that,” Shane shrugged, past caring what his bosses had to say. As promised weeks ago, the Boston Raiders GM and Coach Leclaire had been in touch with Ilya every week, asking how his rehabilitation was going and how he and Shane were faring. The Metros, on the other hand, had maintained radio silence, and the only people Shane had contact with were his teammates.

“Fuck them,” Ilya agreed, pulling his own Raiders t-shirt over his head. “You are ready to tell world how amazing I am?”

“How much are they paying me for this again?” Hayden asked again, but everyone just laughed, knowing it was Hayden’s idea in the first place that he and Cliff come along for support.

They all looked up as the door opened, and Yuna walked inside, followed by an older woman who was already smiling at the three of them. They’d set chairs up around the bed, with Shane at Ilya’s side, and Cliff and Hayden next to him. Yuna was going to sit on the other side of the room, not part of the interview but under strict instruction to interrupt if things became uncomfortable or if Shane gave her a signal. 

“Hi, I’m Kate,” she said, walking straight over to the bed and shaking Ilya’s left hand, then Shane’s. “Thank you so much for agreeing to my interview.”

Ilya and Shane just nodded, and Shane decided it was time to introduce everyone. Ilya was more nervous than he was letting on, so he’d asked Shane before everyone had arrived if he would take the lead. Shane was happy to take whatever burden he could from Ilya’s shoulders, and although he didn’t particularly enjoy the media aspect of their job, he hoped this would be a good fit for all of them.

“Nice to meet you, Kate. Let me introduce everyone. You’ve met my mom, Yuna. She’s going to be sitting in on this interview.”

“Understood, fine by me,” Kate agreed easily, and immediately, that put Shane at ease a little.

“I’m Shane, and this is my partner, Ilya.” They'd decided together that they didn’t want to reveal their engagement just yet. They wanted something that was still theirs for now.

“So good to meet both of you. I’ve followed your careers for a long time,” she said, smiling and nodding at each of them.

“This is Hayden Pike, my best friend and acting Captain of the Montreal Metros, and Cliff Marleau, Ilya’s best friend and acting Captain of the Boston Raiders.”

Both men shook her hand, and she finally pulled out a voice recorder, notepad and pen and set them all out on the little table they’d got for her.

“Okay. I’m going to take notes, but I’d also like to record the conversation if that’s okay with you. I’ve signed paperwork with your agent and lawyers which forbids me from releasing any of the recording, and I have also agreed you will both get approval of the article before I submit it to my editors, and that anything you are unhappy with will be removed. Are you happy with all of that?”

Shane and Ilya looked at each other before they nodded. Shane glanced at his mom, and he saw her nod at him as well, which was good enough for him. There was no way Yuna would let any of this go ahead if everything wasn’t watertight in terms of protecting them and their privacy. 

The first twenty minutes of questions were relatively standard, asking about their careers so far, how they got into hockey, their proudest moments. Cliff and Hayden chimed in occasionally whenever Shane or Ilya talked about certain moments on the ice, but for the most part, it was all focused on the couple. 

“I’m going to talk about the plane crash now,” she said carefully, and Ilya shifted on the bed, clearly becoming anxious. Shane just reached out, resting a hand on Ilya’s thigh, trying to remind him that he was there and not doing this alone.  “If there’s anything you don’t want to answer, please tell me and I’ll move on, no questions asked.”

“We appreciate that,” Shane said, and he could see that Yuna was now leaning forward, like she was ready to jump in and defend her boys. “You can start.”

She asked questions about the crash that Shane and Ilya had answered numerous times before to various people, so those weren’t too difficult to respond to. Ilya stayed quiet for much of it, his memory of the whole thing still quite vague which Shane felt was a blessing in disguise. He wished sometimes he didn’t remember everything as clearly as he did.

They talked about the surgeries Ilya had been through so far, and how his condition was progressing. Ilya kept things as vague as he could, making it clear to Shane that he didn’t want to get too much into detail and Shane had agreed with him, wanting to keep the focus on everything else. They’d already given so much of themselves to the public, they both wanted some things to be just for them and their closest friends and family.

“And if I may… I’d like to talk about the future. What is that looking like for both of you?”

To Shane’s surprise, Ilya answered first. “First, I want to go home.”

“To Boston?” she asked, and Shane froze. They hadn’t discussed this yet, and he was curious to hear Ilya’s answer.

“Home is Shane,” Ilya said, and Shane just smiled softly at his answer. “So with him.”

“You don’t plan to return to Boston?”

“I am not cleared to play yet,” Ilya said, having decided he didn’t want to admit in this interview that he may never be cleared to play hockey again. “So until then, I will be with Shane, in Montreal, or with his family in Ottawa.”

“When I return to play hockey, Ilya will stay with my parents so they can help take care of him. He’s doing well, but neither of us want him to be alone just yet. My parents love Ilya, and they’re excited to have him come to stay.”

“I am now favourite son,” Ilya revealed proudly as Yuna chuckled in the background. “You can quote this, yes?”

“Sure,” Kate laughed, scribbling something down in her notepad. “Do you hope to eventually return to hockey?”

“I think something like this changes you,” Ilya said carefully, slowly. They’d rehearsed this answer a few times over the past few days, and Shane knew how important it was to Ilya to get this right. “What was important before is maybe not so much now.”

“We both love hockey,” Shane clarified, taking Ilya’s hand. “We always have, and we always will.  But we nearly lost each other. We spent so little time together before that now everything is out in the open… we want to change that. We want to make a shift in our priorities, I think.”

“You’d put off your own return to hockey for Ilya?”

Shane nodded. “I would for him. I’d do anything for him. He’s my absolute priority, now and always.”

“Cliff, Hayden… how are your teams doing without their captains? I’m aware that you have both stepped up in their absence,  but is the team still performing well without their leadership?”

“Ilya is an exceptional captain,” Cliff began, and Shane grinned at Cliff’s use of present tense in his answer. “He has a reputation of being an asshole, but in the locker room, every single player looks up to him. He’s young but he has so much passion that it is easy to get swept along with him. He makes you believe that you can achieve the impossible, that you can beat any team out there. So yeah, we miss him. But he’s right there with us every time we hit the ice.”

“You’re wearing his name on your armbands, right? I’ve seen that since the accident.”

“Yeah, and Shane’s too. We didn’t know about their relationship before all of this, but now we know, we support both of them equally. As long as Shane doesn’t hurt our boy, the Raiders will always have his back. We miss playing with both of them, but we will wait as long as it takes for them to be ready to come back.”

“And Hayden? Is it the same for the Metro’s?”

Hayden nodded. “Absolutely. I was a Metro for a year before Shane was drafted. He completely changed the locker room. I’d never known someone so… passionate about the game. He knew everything about hockey; stats, player weaknesses and strengths… he had it all. I was a bit in awe of him, if I’m honest. But as well as that, he’s just a great guy. He leads by example, making sure to keep his eye out for the rookies, making sure everyone feels seen both on the ice and off it.”

“Shane absolutely wants to win. He has a fierce, quiet determination about him that is somehow the opposite of Rozanov, but I think that’s why they work. Shane is the calm to Ilya’s storm. He doesn’t try to outshine Ilya or to match his loudness - he just… steadies him. And he lets Ilya be exactly who he is without dimming his light.”

“Pike, you cannot make me cry,” Ilya joked, but Shane could see that he was touched by Hayden’s words. Hayden, though, wasn’t finished.

“I know you asked me about Shane and what he’s like as a captain. But I don’t think I can talk about one of them without bringing up the other. They’re a unit now, and they need each other, on the ice and off of it too. Ilya’s out there, punching people and chirping them, pissing everybody off while Shane sits back, watching quietly before he reacts. But somehow they work. Shane gives Ilya somewhere steady and safe to land, while Ilya helps Shane get out of his head.”

Cliff nodded in agreement next to him. “They’re completely different people. I’ve learnt that since I’ve been here with Hollzy, but it’s not in a way where they clash. They almost, like, fill in the missing parts of each other. They never want to change each other, because they love what each of them brings to their relationship. They love each other for exactly who they are.”

“I’ve never seen a loyalty like the one Shane has shown to Ilya, after all of this,” Hayden continued, looking at the couple who were just staring at their best friends in shock. “They’re both lucky to have found each other, and the love that they have. I just cannot believe we never saw it before.”

“When you know, you’re just like… how did we not notice?” Cliff said, and Hayden agreed next to him. “Roz will hate me for saying this, but he’s so gone for Shane. Like, embarrassingly gone.”

They all laughed at that, even Ilya, who Shane thought didn’t seem to mind it at all.

“I am ending this interview,” Ilya muttered into Shane’s shoulder, but there was no meaning in his words.

“No way,” Cliff grinned. “You spent years mooning at your phone and blushing at texts and denying it was anyone special. I thought there was someone but you never opened up about them. I never dreamed it would be Hollander.”

“No inclination at all?” Kate cut in, and both Cliff and Hayden shook their heads.

“I guess we could explain everything away with their rivalry,” Hayden admitted. “They were competitive. They’d always been pitted against each other, so the looks they exchanged at centre ice just seemed part of that. We don’t know everything about how their relationship panned out, that’s their story and theirs to tell if they want to. But now? Now it’s impossible not to see it.”

Cliff jumped in, carrying on from where Hayden had left off. If Shane didn’t know any better, he’d think they planned this. “As Roz said. They’re just home for each other.”

Neither Shane or Ilya had a comeback for that. Shane was certain he was blushing, and even Ilya was struggling to fight back a smile. 

“I have no idea if that even answered your question,” Cliff laughed, shrugging. “But we’ve never had a chance to talk about these two before, so we were overdue.”

“It’s great, it’s lovely to hear,” Kate said. “Does anyone have any final words they want to add before I wrap this up?”

“I would just like to thank people,” Ilya started, and everyone turned to look at him. “I have been shown lots of kind messages. It is very nice that people care. And that people support Shane and me. Their kindness is bigger than hate. So thank you for that.”

“Same,” Shane said. “We’re really grateful to everyone who has sent us nice messages, whether it’s to us or our teams. We’ve seen that people have been raising money for the hospital as well as the disaster fund, and that’s really cool so thank you to the people who set those up. We’re just very grateful that it’s all turned out in the best way it could’ve.”

Kate asked if she could take a photo, and Shane and Ilya insisted on pulling Hayden and Cliff in for this one. Hayden had his arm around Shane’s shoulders, and Cliff was on the other end, his arm around Ilya’s waist since the other man couldn’t yet raise his injured arm enough to put it around Cliff’s shoulders. She showed them the photo and Shane nodded his approval, giving his okay for her to use that with the article.  Yuna showed her out, and the four men relaxed back into their chairs.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Cliff said. “She was nice.”

“Let’s hope the article is as good,” Shane said, hating that he was already anticipating something going wrong. “Thanks for being here guys.”

“Anytime,” Hayden grinned, glancing at his watch. “Shit, Marleau, we have to get out of here soon.”

“Where are you off to?”

“St. Louis,” Cliff answered at the same time that Hayden said “Pittsburgh.”

“Go and win for your captains,” Ilya said with a cheeky grin. “We will be watching.”

“I’ve suddenly lost all motivation,” Hayden said, and Cliff laughed loudly. 

“Did you ever have any, Pike?”

“Fucking rude!” Hayden said, giving Cliff the middle finger. “I regret everything.”

Cliff grabbed Hayden around the neck, tugging him close. “Nah, you don’t. You love that this brought me into your life.”

“You wish,” Hayden grinned, but Shane knew that Hayden was enjoying his growing friendship with Cliff more than he would admit to. “Let’s leave the lovebirds alone, Marleau.”

“Yes. I wish to ravish my fiance,” Ilya said, smirking at the two men opposite him who pretended to gag at his words. “You have thirty seconds or I will start and you will watch.”

Shane was certain he’d never seen Marleau or Hayden say such a quick goodbye in their lives.

******

“You’re not too tired for this?” Shane asked as he helped Ilya to his feet, making sure he had his balance before he stepped away. Ilya started to walk slowly towards the bathroom while Shane gathered them both some clean clothes, leaving them on the bed. “Ilya?”

“I’m fine. I want a shower, Shane.”

“Alright.” Shane locked the door and followed his fiance to the bathroom, watching Ilya sit himself on the white plastic chair as he started to undress. Shane switched on the water and got it to an acceptable temperature before he turned around, jaw dropping when he saw Ilya on his feet, completely naked. “God.”

“You are staring.”

“Yeah, I am,” Shane admitted, licking his lips. He’d helped Ilya with his shower plenty of times since he’d woken from his coma, but there was something in the way Ilya was looking at him now that felt different. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Take your clothes off,” Ilya said, and Shane hurried to comply, yanking off his shirt and leaving it in a heap on the floor since he’d be getting into something clean afterwards. “Shit… does it hurt?”

Shane walked closer and let Ilya trace his fingertips over the long scar on his stomach, the one that had healed well after the crash. Shane truly didn’t think about it anymore, but he wasn’t surprised at Ilya’s reaction to it, especially since it was the first time he’d seen it on Shane’s body.

“It’s fine, I promise. And no, it doesn’t hurt. Compared to what you’re dealing with, this is nothing.”

“You promise?”

“I do,” Shane vowed, leaning down to kiss Ilya gently. “Now let me get undressed before you freeze.” He stepped back and pulled off his sweats and underwear, kicking them away, not at all embarrassed when it became immediately obvious that he was hard. 

Ilya just raised his eyebrows, dragging his eyes up from where he’d been looking at Shane’s cock. He stood up shakily, and Shane reached out to steady him.

“I want to collect my reward.”

“Your what?”

“Reward. For walking to door.”

“Oh.” Shane blushed. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten that with everything else that had happened since. “What do you want?”

“You,” Ilya replied, taking Shane’s hand and dragging him under the spray. “Kiss me, Shane.”

Shane didn’t need any more instruction. The water thundered down over them as Shane and Ilya came together, bodies pressed against one another as their lips met, kissing hungrily, desperately, in a way they hadn’t in so long. Shane could feel himself getting harder, and he was pleased to feel that Ilya’s body was responding too.

“Fuck, Ilya-” Shane muttered against his lips, tilting his head to give Ilya better access to his neck. He felt Ilya’s teeth graze against his skin, and he shivered, realising just now how much he’d missed this part of his relationship with Ilya. Sex was important to both of them, and Shane was now remembering why. No one had ever made him feel the way Ilya made him feel. 

He reached down, wrapping his fingers around Ilya’s cock as he started to stroke. Ilya moaned beautifully and he felt Ilya’s hips rut forward, chasing Shane’s touch. They kept kissing, Ilya’s tongue seeking out Shane’s. It was only when Ilya attempted to touch Shane that things came to a halt. Ilya was looking at his hand with disgust clear on his face.

“Shit. I cannot-”

“You don’t need to,” Shane murmured, having had an idea. “Just let me…” 

He stepped away from Ilya, grabbing a towel before he guided Ilya back onto the chair, ignoring his protests before he set the towel on the floor, lowering himself onto it on his knees between Ilya’s legs. 

“Hands free, right?”

Ilya just bit his bottom lip and looked at Shane with dark eyes as he slowly leaned in, kissing up each of Ilya’s thighs. He felt Ilya’s left hand reach out and curl in his hair, tugging gently as he guided Shane to where he wanted him the most, but Shane was determined to take his time. 

He kept his own hands in his lap as he made his way up, kissing and biting at Ilya’s skin, watching his cock jerk with every motion. He could see Ilya was leaking, and he glanced up, loving how Ilya’s pupils were blown, clearly lost in everything Shane was doing.

“Lyubimyy, пожалуйста,” he begged, and who was Shane to resist when Ilya said please so beautifully?

He opened his mouth and tucked the tip of Ilya’s cock inside, closing his lips around it. He swirled his tongue around the head, tasting Ilya for the first time in months, and he moaned around him. He felt Ilya’s fingers curl together in his hair, but he let it happen, knowing Ilya was probably close already since it had been so long.

He sank slowly down, letting his lips slide down Ilya’s shaft, as far as he could before the head bumped against the back of his throat. He’d perfected deep throating over the years, but he didn’t want to go that far just yet. Instead, he started long, slow bobs of his head, pressing his tongue against the underside as he moved up and down.

“Fuck, Ты просто охренительный,” Ilya rasped out, cursing over and over as Shane sank further down with each bob of his head. “So fucking amazing.”

Shane was exactly where he wanted to be. He could feel his own body responding to this, but he hoped he’d last long enough to make Ilya come first… Ilya deserved the best orgasm that Shane could give him. He could feel the wet, rough fabric of the towel underneath his knees, but all he could focus on was the warm, wet slide of Ilya’s shaft inside his mouth.

“I’m close-” Ilya said through gritted teeth, his thighs tensing on either side of Shane’s head. He just nodded before he went back to his motions, working over Ilya’s cock in a faster rhythm, sucking harder on each downstroke of his mouth. The water was still raining down on them, and Shane thought it was entirely perfect. “Fuck- Shane-”

Shane sank down and held himself there as Ilya spilled hotly inside his mouth, filling him with his release. Shane swallowed as much as he could then pulled back, sitting back on his haunches as he opened his mouth, showing Ilya his come pooled on his tongue.

“Fuck-”

Ilya pulled him close and kissed him deeply, tasting himself as they worked the come between their mouths, both men swallowing it down. It was dirty in the best way, and Shane groaned as his cock brushed against Ilya’s leg.

“Stand up,” Ilya whispered, kissing Shane’s lips again. “Up for me.”

Shane stumbled to his legs and gasped when Ilya’s left arm snaked behind him, pressing against his lower back and pulling Shane forward. Ilya was still sat on the shower chair and he was just the right height to-

“Oh my god-” Shane breathed out as Ilya swallowed him down in one swift motion. Ilya’s mouth was warm and hot, and Shane knew he wasn’t going to last long. He reached out, pushing his fingers deep into Ilya’s wet curls but he didn’t move him, he just let his hands rest there, connecting him with Ilya in another way. “Fuck, I love you-”

“Mmm,” Ilya hummed, sinking himself down until his lips almost met the soft hair at the base of Shane’s cock. It was almost too much but Shane willed himself not to come yet. Ilya looked up at him like that, mouth full of Shane and it was the most sinful thing Shane had ever seen. He loved that he was the only man who got the pleasure of seeing Ilya like this, so lost in making Shane feel good that he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Close, baby,” Shane panted out, unable to hold back much longer. He felt Ilya swirl his tongue around Shane’s head, and he sank slowly down one more time before Shane gave in, coming with a cry of Ilya’s name, spilling into his mouth. This time, Ilya swallowed everything Shane gave him, but Shane quickly fell to his knees again, pulling Ilya into a filthy kiss, the taste of him obvious on Ilya’s tongue.

“Fuck, Shane,” Ilya chuckled as they rested their foreheads together, both panting and coming down from their highs. “I have missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Shane whispered back, kissing Ilya again because he just couldn’t help it. “See? We don’t need our hands to get each other off.”

Ilya smirked. “Cheeky,” he grinned, touching Shane’s cheek gently. “Love you.”

“I love you too. You want to sit there and let me take care of you?”

“You already did,” Ilya said softly, but he nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Anything for you,” Shane replied, reaching for the bodywash. 

An hour later, they were both in clean, soft clothes and tucked into Ilya’s bed, squished together, bodies woven around each other. The nurses had come in to make sure Ilya was okay and to see if he needed more pain medication, but they’d long given up on telling Shane to get out of the bed. They all knew he’d be back in there the moment they left anyway. 

“I, uh, I have something for you,” Shane said, reaching into the drawer just behind him where he’d tucked the item earlier that day when Ilya had gone to use the bathroom, insisting he really didn’t need Shane’s help in there.

The light above them was dim, and he could see Ilya was fighting off sleep but Shane had  wanted to do this for so long, and couldn’t wait any longer. He wrapped his fingers around the item and brought it between them, keeping it out of Ilya’s sight for a few moments.

“I know that I already asked you,” Shane began, and Ilya’s eyes widened, like he immediately understood where Shane was going with this. Somehow, it didn’t surprise Shane at all. “But I told you before that I had it. I… I asked Hayden to get it from my apartment last time he flew out here. I’ve been waiting to give it to you.”

“Shane…”

He pulled his arm out from between their bodies, holding the small navy box in his palm. “You still want me to marry me?”

“More than anything,” Ilya answered in a whisper, looking between Shane’s face and the box in his hand. “You know my answer.”

Shane smiled and slowly opened the box, revealing the gold ring he’d chosen months ago now. There was a band of diamonds running around the ring, sparkling beautifully even in the soft light of Ilya’s room. The moment Shane had seen it, he knew it was the ring he wanted to propose with, purchasing it there and then. Seeing Ilya’s face was worth every single cent it had cost. 

“Marry me, Ilya,” Shane said gently, and he just watched as Ilya nodded, his eyes shining with both tears and joy. Shane reached into the box and pulled out the ring, lifting Ilya’s injured right arm gently, taking his hand and sliding the ring onto his third finger. “I read that this is how Russians wear their wedding rings?”

Ilya just nodded, swallowing before he answered. “Yes. I will get you a ring, Shane. I want you to wear one too.”

“I’d like that,” Shane grinned, bringing Ilya’s hand to his lips again. “Ilya Hollander. You still want that?”

“I still want,” Ilya confirmed, pulling Shane in by the back of his neck, kissing him almost painfully. “I love you so much.”

“Forever,” Shane whispered, marvelling at the sight of his ring on Ilya’s finger, claiming him as Shane’s.  It was all he’d ever wanted.

Chapter End Notes

Next up...

Roadtrips and shitmobiles...

Chapter 20: I'll make this feel like home.

Chapter Summary

New limits identified
Pike’s revenge
I’ll recognize you always

Chapter Notes

A bit of a longer one today. Lots going on here but I hope you like the developments in their story.

Still not at my favourite one, but getting closer!

Enjoy, and thank you as always for the beautiful comments. xx

Five days later

“What do you think they want?”

Ilya shrugged, but Shane could see he was worried. “Maybe more surgery.”

“On your arm?”

“I don’t know, Shane!”

Shane took a breath, knowing Ilya wasn’t snapping at him for any other reason than he was nervous and not coping well with not knowing what the doctors wanted to meet with them about. “Sorry.”

Ilya sighed, shaking his head. The diamonds on his engagement ring caught in the sunshine flooding the room where Ilya’s hand was resting in his lap. Ilya pushed his other hand back through his curls, making a bit of a mess of them. “Sorry. I- I hate waiting.”

“I know. Me too. They should be here soon, though.”

The two sat quietly in Ilya’s room as the world kept on moving around them. The door was open and Shane kept looking up as people walked past, on their way to visit other patients, or moving patients around to other departments. Shane hadn’t realised how hospitals never slept until he’d spent almost two months in one, and he had a whole newfound respect for the people who worked inside them, from the doctors and nurses to the porters and cleaners who kept everything running.

“It’ll be okay,” Shane said and Ilya just looked over at him, up from the magazine he was reading. “We need to stop assuming the worst.”

Ilya just nodded and returned to his reading while Shane turned back to his book. He’d read it before, but that was a blessing really because he couldn’t concentrate on anything right now. He was rereading a paragraph for the fourth time when there was a knock at the door and they both looked up.

“Ilya, Shane, good to see you,” the doctor said as he walked inside, smiling at them. He didn’t look like he was about to deliver some terrible news so Shane relaxed slightly, tucking his bookmark between the pages before he set the book to one side. Ilya had just shoved his magazine onto his bedside table, the pages all creased and tucked underneath each other.

“Is bad news?” Ilya asked, cutting right to the chase, and Shane saw the confusion on the doctor's face.

“Bad news? No, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Shane’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you-”

“How would you like to go home, Ilya?”

*****

Ilya made Shane swear on his new engagement ring that he’d never tell a soul just how hard Ilya had cried at being told he could go home. Shane had shed a few tears himself as he’d held a weeping Ilya, and the doctor had slipped away quietly, closing the door behind them as he gave them privacy to come to terms with the news he’d just shared.

“Is this real, Shane?” Ilya asked a while later, his tears finally dry but his eyes red rimmed, still looking in disbelief that this could be true. “We can go home?”

“We can go home,” Shane repeated, holding Ilya close. His head was tucked against Shane’s chest, and his left arm was keeping Shane pulled tightly against him, like Ilya was scared to let him go. “How do you feel about it?”

“I cannot believe it,” Ilya admitted, shuffling so he could look up at Shane. “I did not think this would happen.”

“Well, you were never gonna be here forever,” Shane said with a soft laugh, kissing the top of Ilya’s head. “But yeah, this is the best news.”

There was quiet for a moment, and Ilya hummed as Shane stroked up and down his back, pleased that Ilya was calmer now. 

“Where is home?” Ilya asked after a while, and Shane paused, knowing he’d been thinking about this. He’d refused to think about it for a while, thinking that he was maybe tempting fate. 

“I was thinking maybe Ottawa,” Shane said, watching Ilya’s face for any sign of a reaction, good or bad. “We’re going to need support for a while, and I think maybe staying with my parents-”

“Yes.”

“-would be the best solution. Wait… yes?”

Ilya just nodded. “Yes. Of course. If they will have me.”

Shane laughed. “I really don’t think we need to worry about that. We practically had to force them to go back home because they wanted to be here with you. You’d really be okay with it?”

“Shane, I love your parents,” Ilya said, smiling at his fiance. “If they are happy to have me, I think is best, yes? Would take pressure off you-”

“This isn’t about me, this is about what is best for you.”

“But you matter too,” Ilya said, holding out a hand for Shane, who came back over to Ilya’s bed and took it gently. “I do not want to be… how do you say… burden? Is that right?”

“Well, it’s the right word, but the wrong way to describe you,” Shane said, stroking Ilya’s hand. “You’re not a burden. You’re the man I’m going to marry, and I want to take care of you. You’d be the same if it was me who was hurt.”

Ilya smiled, looking down at his right hand, admiring his engagement ring again. “I know. If Yuna and David say yes, I will come to Ottawa.”

“They already did,” Shane laughed with a shrug. “We’d already thought about what would happen when they discharged you. It was their idea, actually. They’ve renovated one of the spare rooms downstairs so you don’t need to worry about going up and down the steps. You already know there’s a guest bathroom down there too.”

“I have PT for my arm soon, but we will talk about this after, yes?”

“Of course, but I’m coming with you. I think it would be good to know what exercises they want to do with your arm so I can help you when we get home.”

Ilya gave a small nod. He was still a bit hesitant about allowing Shane to be part of his rehabilitation but he knew deep down that Shane was only doing it from a place of love, that he wanted Ilya to get as strong as he could, and that meant working hard for it.

Shane paused, reaching down and stroking his fingers up and down Ilya’s right arm. “How is it doing? Have you got any more sensation back?”

Ilya shook his head. “No. Is okay in these fingers,” he said, indicating his ring and little fingers, “I can feel some things but not my arm. I see you touch now but do not feel it. Is weird.”

Shane’s fingers found the scars left on Ilya’s arm from the surgeries and external fixator, scars that would never really disappear but told a story about what Ilya had been through. The doctors were still being deliberately vague about how much of a recovery Ilya could expect, but Shane felt that Ilya was coming to terms with the fact that nothing was ever going to be how it was before. He was changed, but alive. That was the most important thing. 

Ilya was still quiet so Shane carded his fingers through his hair. “You’re quiet.”

“I know,” Ilya said, looking up at Shane with a look of complete love. “Tomorrow, Shane. We can go home tomorrow.”

“I have a lot to do before tomorrow.”

Ilya raised an eyebrow but was smiling at his fiance. “Ah, yes, you love to plan. You have notepad for list, yes?”

“Fuck you,” Shane laughed, shoving gently at Ilya’s shoulder. “There’s a lot to think about!”

“Like what?! We pack, we leave, we drive to Ottawa.”

“Exactly, we drive to Ottawa. Do you realise it’s like 23 hours? We can’t do that in one day. I’ll need to book hotels along the way, make sure we have a car that can accommodate you-”

“Shane, I can sit. Will be fine. You can drive, then I can-”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

Shane just stared at his fiance. “I mean no, you can’t drive.”

“Fuck off, Shane, I have licence-”

“You also have an injured fucking arm!” Ilya looked away from Shane, and he could tell that he’d upset him. “I’m not trying to be an asshole-”

“No, you just are an asshole.”

Shane scoffed, shaking his head. “Nice. I’m going to go and call my parents, make sure they’re ready for us.” He didn’t even bother to look at Ilya before he stood up and walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He hated arguing with Ilya, and this was the first time they’d exchanged a cross word since the accident so it didn’t sit well with him.

He headed outside, finding a quiet area before he settled down on a bench to call his parents. They were thrilled to hear that Ilya was ready to be discharged, and Yuna had already all but got everything ready for their arrival. Shane had insisted they didn’t need anything special but she’d made sure to buy new sheets, pillows and a few other things that would make the two men feel more at home.

“You sound stressed,” she said softly as Shane thanked her for everything. “I thought you’d be really happy.”

“I am really happy,” he insisted, but he knew he couldn’t lie to his mom. He’d never been able to, and he wasn’t about to start now. “Just… we have to drive to you, obviously. And Ilya seems to think he’ll be able to drive.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Yeah. And when I told him he couldn’t, he called me an asshole.”

“And did you… empathise with him? Or just tell him that he can’t drive without really understanding how that was going to make him feel?”

Shane paused for a moment, realising she was right, as usual. “I just… I told him. Because it’s true. He can’t drive. His arm isn’t functional yet, and I don’t want to be in another fucking accident.”

“Shane, honey…” Yuna said, and really, Shane wished she was here for this. “You realise this is the first real time Ilya has been confronted with his new limits? He’s not really been told that he can’t do something he’s always been able to do before.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, exactly. He’s probably feeling pretty fragile about it.”

Shane nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Mom, I fucked up. How do I fix it?”

Twenty minutes later, Shane had finished up with his call, making sure his Mom was putting into place everything else they discussed before he hung up, heading inside to go and apologise to Ilya. He knew he’d approached the whole thing in the wrong way, and while he didn’t mind apologising, he wasn’t completely certain that Ilya would accept it.

Usually, Shane just walked into his room when he arrived but now, Shane waited, knocking gently on the door. He was surprised when Ilya opened the door himself, blinking at Shane before he turned and slowly returned to his bed, sitting on the edge rather than making himself comfortable.

Shane knew it was up to him to take the lead right now. “Ilya, will you look at me please?”

Ilya did, and Shane hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his shorts, not knowing what else to do with them.

“I’m sorry. You’re right… I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have said you couldn’t drive in the way that I did. I didn’t think about how that would make you feel.”

“Is okay.”

“No, actually, it isn’t. It’s really ignorant of me to think you’d be okay with me stopping you from doing something you’ve always done. And… you love driving, which makes this even harder for you.”

“I asked doctor,” Ilya shrugged, finally looking at Shane. “He said no. Said I cannot move arm fully so cannot drive. I need assessment before I am allowed. So you were right.”

“I didn’t want to be,” Shane said quietly, seeing that Ilya was really struggling with this. “It isn’t fair that this is happening.”

“I… I don’t want to talk about it, if that is okay.”

“Course it is.”

“Your parents… they are okay with us staying?”

Shane grinned, nodding happily. “Yeah, they’re really excited about it. Mom has worked out a good route for us to drive. It’ll take about three days but it’ll break it up. We could maybe make the most of it…”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, I’d love to take you out on a date,” Shane said almost shyly, and he saw a small smile erupt on Ilya’s face. “We’re out now and… it would be nice to be able to date you.”

Ilya just held up his right hand, smirking at Shane. “We are engaged, no? You don’t need to woo me, Shane.”

“Woo you? Jesus, what are we, in the middle ages? I just want to date my fiance out in public. Unless you don’t want that?”

“Oh, I want it,” Ilya said, carefully getting himself to his feet. “I have wanted it for so long.”

They were standing face to face, and Shane stayed still as Ilya leaned in, kissing him gently before it turned deeper, Shane’s hands automatically going up to tangle in Ilya’s messy curls. 

“Gonna date you so hard,” Shane grinned, muttering the words against Ilya’s lips, kissing him between almost every word. “Going to make up for all the time we couldn’t be seen.”

“Going to love you so loudly,” Ilya responded, his hands finding their home on Shane’s hips. “So world knows you are mine.”

“I think they already know,” Shane laughed, linking his hands behind Ilya’s neck, lost in each other. “But I’m so fucking ready to get out of here and start the rest of our lives together.”

The next day

Shane zipped their case shut, his eyes doing a quick sweep of the hospital room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.  He’d already done one trip out to the car he’d bought especially for the journey, the car he hadn’t yet told Ilya about, but that was a problem for later. The wheelchair was stowed away in the back, as Ilya had been insistent that he leave the hospital on his own two feet, and Shane wasn’t about to deny him that.

“Are you ready for this?” Shane asked, and Ilya turned, looking at him before he nodded slowly at him. “It’s been, what, over three months since you got here. It’s okay to feel nervous about it.”

“I know, just… maybe I think sometimes this would not happen.”

“Well, it is. We’re going home. Sort of. We’re leaving, anyway. Ready to go and say goodbye?”

Shane and Ilya had arranged for a local bakery to make deliveries over the next few weeks to the staff at the hospital to thank them for everything they’d done for the pair of them since their arrival. Shane had never known kindness like it from complete strangers, and he had so much respect for everyone who worked in the healthcare system. They were literally angels among men. 

“I think so.”

Shane lifted the case off the bed and watched Ilya use a cane with his left hand to help him walk slowly but steadily. He paused in the doorway, taking one last look at the room before he turned and walked right out, turning in the direction of the main desk. Shane just followed, knowing that really, this moment belonged to Ilya.

He felt teary as he watched Ilya work his way through each and every member of staff, some of whom had come in on their day off just to say goodbye to him. He stayed where he was, pushed into a desk chair by a nurse after a few minutes as they came to him, hugging him and then coming over to Shane, making him promise to take care of the pair of them.

Even the surgeon who had performed the first surgery on Ilya when he’d arrived at the hospital had come down to see him, and when she’d spoken to him, she came to Shane, standing in front of him for a moment.

“He made it because he had you there fighting with him,” she said quietly, resting a supportive hand on Shane’s shoulder.

Shane let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” Her expression was calm, still professional. “I can repair many things; organs, limbs, bones. I can stop bleeding. But my patients don’t go through these things alone. You were there, keeping him anchored.”

“I thought… I didn’t think he was going to make it when I spoke to you.”

She nodded and surprised Shane with what she said next. “Nor did I. But I couldn’t tell you that.”

Shane sighed. He hadn’t quite believed how close he’d come to losing Ilya. “Fuck.”

“Just… keep being there for him. He’s going to need exactly what you’ve been giving him this whole time.”

“Just… being there?”

“Being there is rarely just anything, believe me.”

“Thank you for taking care of him. For helping to save his life.”

“It was our job to save his life,” she said. “The rest of it...” She glanced over at Ilya, then back at Shane, smiling softly. “You two can take it from here.”

Shane gave her another hug before she disappeared, apologising that she had to return to her patients. The crowd of people around Ilya eventually thinned, and then he was walking over to Shane, a little stiffer than before and a lot more emotional, but he looked happy. 

“Ready to go?”

Ilya nodded and they waved goodbye before finally, they were leaving. Shane stayed by Ilya’s side, keeping to his pace as they walked into the elevator, letting it take them down to the ground floor. Somehow, word seemed to have got out that Ilya was being discharged because there was a small gaggle of press outside being held behind a barrier that the hospital had put in place, and Shane sighed, hating that someone had tipped them off.

“You want to find a back exit?”

Ilya swallowed but shook his head. “No. I… we can do this, yes? You will do this with me?”

“Always,” Shane replied, holding out his left hand. Ilya slowly moved his right arm so that his hand was nestled in Shane’s. He had on a long sleeved t-shirt so that his scars weren’t visible, but he was still walking with a limp and it was clearly an effort to move. Still, if Ilya wanted to do this, Shane wouldn’t be anywhere but at his side.

The camera flashes started to explode as they walked outside, and Shane was very surprised when Ilya dragged him over to stand in front of the gathered reporters, ignoring every question being shouted at him before he spoke, quietly but clearly, everyone going silent immediately and hanging off his every word.

“I would like to thank medical team who have taken good care of me in hospital. They are amazing people and we are very grateful. Thank you to my team, Boston Raiders, for supporting me, and to Montreal Metros players too, for their support. It has been terrible, my life is changed but I am alive and that is all that matters. I am here because of this man-” he tugged Shane closer, and he could only stare in awe at Ilya, at the confidence he was speaking with.

“He has been there since I was trapped in wreckage. He would not leave, even when I told him to. He has been strong for me… He had enough strength for both of us. I have spent many years pretending I do not need anyone. I was wrong.” He gave Shane a wobbly smile before he carried on. “I do not know what happens next. I do not know how long recovery will take. I do not know if my career will look the same. But I know I will not face any of it alone.”

Shane just nodded, squeezing Ilya’s hand a little more tightly.

“So when people ask me how I survived, or why I am standing here today, the answer is not only doctors, or emergency crews - I do owe them my life, yes. But the answer is also this man. He reminded me that there was still a life waiting for me outside that hospital room. He gave me hope when I could not find any myself. He carried me until I was strong enough to stand again. Without Shane Hollander, there would be no Ilya Rozanov.”

With that, Ilya smiled and nodded at the cameras before he moved around them, heading in the direction of the car park. Shane gently redirected him towards the staff parking lot, explaining that it was closer and that he’d been given permission to park there to make leaving easier.

“You didn’t have to say all of that,” Shane said as they walked, pausing to let a car pass in front of them.

“I wanted them to know.”

Shane stopped for a second to reach into his pocket, pulling out the car key and pressing a button on the fob. The lights on the car flashed as he opened it, but he heard Ilya gasp next to him.

“What’s wrong, is it-”

“What the fuck is that.”

Shane frowned before he realised Ilya was talking about the car. “The car? I got it the other day. Well, Hayden helped me sort it out. It’s got plenty of space so you can stretch out your legs-”

“Shane, I cannot be seen in this car.”

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” Shane said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the car, opening the trunk. “Ilya, get your ass over here.” He laughed when Ilya reached into his bag, pulling out a baseball cap before he put it on his head, tugging it down low. “Really?”

“Is the colour of shit!”

“It’s brown, Ilya. BROWN.”

“Yes, like shit.”

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said, closing his eyes and trying to calm down. “Get inside.”

“No. I am not getting in shitmobile.”

“Ilya. You either get inside the shit car or you’re staying here. Up to you.”

“Fine. But we are stopping for McDonalds, Shane. Not negotiable. And I will order what I want.”

“If we must,” Shane said as finally, Ilya started walking towards the back door of the car.

“Is this Pike’s revenge?” Ilya asked as he turned, letting Shane help lift him onto the tall backseat, putting his cane in the trunk next to their bags. “For pretending I forget him? A fucking shitmobile?”

“Why would Hayden want revenge? He’s literally been here as much as he can supporting us. He said this was the only colour available to drive away.”

“Of course, who would want to drive car colour of shit?” Ilya grumbled, leaning forward as Shane adjusted the pillow behind his back to make him more comfortable. “Thank you, moya lyubov. But this is car for people like Pike with million children. We are too cool for this car.”

“It has bluetooth. I’ll let you choose the music if you shut up moaning about the damn car!”

Ilya caught Shane’s eye in the rearview mirror, smiling slightly now. “Fine. You will get good musical education on this trip. Let’s go.”

Shane started the engine and pulled away, feeling oddly emotional as the hospital got smaller in the rearview mirror. They were finally out of there. The rest of their lives awaited.

Four days later

Ottawa

“You’re here!” Yuna cried as Shane got out from the wheel, grimacing as he stretched out his back. “I’m so happy to see you, sweetheart.”

Shane allowed her to hug him for a few seconds before he pulled away, jogging around to the other side of the car where Ilya was waiting patiently for him in the passenger seat. Shane knew that Ilya would never admit it but he was sore after four days being cooped up in a car, and he wanted to get him inside and for them to relax.

“Hey, you,” he grinned, opening the door and grinning at his fiance. “We made it. Ready to go in?”

Ilya nodded, and Shane helped him out of the car, hating how Ilya winced with every movement. The doctors had warned them that Ilya’s legs and hips might seize up if he stayed seated in the same position for too long, but Ilya had insisted on not making any stops on their final day of driving, that he just wanted to be home. Shane had gone along with it but he was regretting that decision now.

“Can you… carry me, please?” Ilya asked, and Shane nodded quickly, knowing it had taken Ilya a lot to ask that of him.  

He was so grateful that his shoulder had healed enough to let him do this for the man he loved. His doctors had been pleased with the progress he’d made with his PT and had discharged him, although Shane continued to do his exercises, determined to keep his body strong for whatever was to come for him and Ilya. 

He moved to stand at Ilya’s side and bent down, hooking his arm under Ilya’s knees, sweeping him up against his body. He got his balance before he walked towards the front door, passing David who was already calling out that he was getting the bags.

“Sofa or bed?”

“Bed,” Ilya said, and it was that which told Shane just how much pain Ilya was in. He decided he couldn’t take his shoes off with Ilya in his arms so he carried on through the house, nudging open the door with his foot before he walked over, gently lowering Ilya onto the mattress on top of the covers. He kissed Ilya before he stood up.

“You need painkillers?”

Ilya just nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the pillows. “Please. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’ll be right back, okay? I just need to dig out the bag of medicine the hospital gave us.” He kissed Ilya’s lips again before he kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the corner of the room before he headed out, towards the living room. David had already brought everything inside and his parents were waiting for him on the couch, standing up as he walked into the room.

“Is he alright?” Yuna asked, clearly concerned.

“Yeah, just… I think the drive was harder on him than he thought. I’m going to get him some painkillers and maybe just rest with him, if that’s okay?”

David nodded. “Of course it is. This is home for now, Shane. You do what you want to do.”

“Thanks, guys, and thanks for bringing out stuff in, Dad.”

“Anytime.”

Shane went to their bags and found Ilya’s medication, grabbing that and dragging their case behind him into their room. Cliff and Hayden had both packed bags from Shane and Ilya’s homes in Montreal and Boston and had brought them to the hospital, which David and Yuna had then brought back with them to Ottawa so they’d have everything they needed for the foreseeable future. 

“Hey,” Shane said softly as he walked into the room, unsurprised to see Ilya’s eyes shut. He grabbed a pillow and tucked it under Ilya’s knee, supporting it in the way Shane had been taught in the hospital for when Ilya was struggling with pain. “How are you doing?”

“Sore,” Ilya admitted, propping himself up and accepting the pills Shane shook into his hand. “Your parents, I am sorry-”

“Don’t be. They’re absolutely fine. They know that we’re here to rest and get better. Want me to lay with you for a while?”

Ilya nodded, and Shane grinned. He helped Ilya out of his t-shirt before he pulled off his own shirt and then got onto the bed on Ilya’s left, taking care not to put much pressure on his body as he cuddled in, resting his head on Ilya’s chest. He traced circles with his fingertips on Ilya’s bare chest, enjoying finally having some real alone time.

“I’m so glad we’re here,” Shane whispered as he heard Ilya’s breaths even out, sleep taking over. His own eyes were heavy after a whole day of driving, and he decided it wasn’t worth fighting it. “I love you so much, Ilya,” he said into the silence of the room, his body finally giving in to exhaustion.

Three hours later

“Just in time for dinner,” David said as Shane walked into the kitchen, followed slowly by Ilya, who was still using his cane. “You boys hungry?”

“I am, actually,” Shane answered, helping Ilya into his seat before he sat down next to him. David set down a bowl of pasta in front of each of them while Yuna put out glasses of water and a bowl of parmesan. Ilya immediately reached for it, but they all jumped when the bowl slipped out of his right hand, landing heavily on the table with a loud clatter. 

“Shit. Sorry."

“Not to worry,” David said, just pushing the bowl closer to Ilya so that he didn’t have to lift it. “How are you feeling now you’ve had a rest?”

“More human,” Ilya laughed, twirling some spaghetti around his fork. “Is still odd to be here, not in hospital. Feel like I have been released from prison.”

They all laughed and Shane rested his hand on Ilya’s thigh, trying to reassure him. Yuna and David took charge of the conversation then, talking about what they’d been up to since they’d returned to Ottawa, about the changes they’d put in place in the house to make it more comfortable for Shane and Ilya, and how happy they were the boys had chosen to come home to them.

“Have you heard from your teams?” David asked, and both men shook their heads.

“No, we’re going to call them when we’re settled. Hayden and Cliff are keeping them up to date. We wanted some time to ourselves, I think. It feels like we’ve given a lot to everyone else and now… it’s our time to heal. To focus on Ilya, on getting him to his strongest.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Ilya’s appetite wasn’t yet back to normal, so Shane wasn’t surprised when he pushed his plate away, only half eaten. Shane finished off everything on his plate but refused dessert, seeing that Ilya was already looking a little overwhelmed. He hadn’t realised just how much it would take out of Ilya to leave the hospital and come all the way to Ottawa. 

“Hey, you want to go back to our room?”

Ilya shook his head. “No. Am okay.”

“My parents really won’t mind,” Shane said, wanting Ilya to know that whatever he wanted right now was okay. “Ilya, you have to look after yourself and stop worrying about what everyone else thinks.”

“Go to bed, honey,” Yuna said as she walked back into the room, having cleared the table with David. She came and knelt down beside Ilya, tucking one of his curls behind his ear. “Please don’t even worry about David and I. We want you boys to treat this place as your home for however long you’re here. And that means going to bed when you want, eating by yourselves if that’s what you’d like.”

“I’d like a bath,” Ilya admitted, blushing slightly but Shane felt proud that he’d finally admitted something he wanted. “Is okay?”

“Of course it’s okay. You wanna wait here with Mom while I get the bath ready?”

“Sure,” Ilya nodded, and he got up from the table, following Yuna to the living room, where they sat on the couch together. Shane headed for the bathroom his parents had installed years ago, and grabbed some of the bubble bath Yuna had put out for them. He turned the taps on and poured in half of the bottle, deciding Ilya deserved to be pampered tonight.

When the bath was three-quarters full, Shane fetched Ilya and brought him into the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door behind them. His parents wouldn’t come in, and Shane was still a little nervous about locking out help in case he needed it.

“Want me to help you undress?” he asked, and Ilya nodded, standing there as Shane carefully took off his clothes, folding them and putting them on the counter. He held Ilya’s hand as he watched him step over the edge of the bath before he lowered himself into the water, sighing in happiness as the warm water enveloped his body, sinking down until only his head was sticking out of the water. “Good?”

“So good,” Ilya confirmed with a nod of his head, a small smile on his lips. “You come in?”

“You want me to?”

“Да,” Ilya replied. Shane stood where he was and took off his own clothes, noticing how Ilya kept his eyes open as Shane got naked, finally stepping into the water and settling down behind Ilya, taking his fiance’s weight against his chest. He let his hands rest on Ilya’s stomach, kissing the top of his head. “I missed this.”

“We’ve been showering together for a few weeks…”

“No. Just… us. Being alone. Love you.”

Shane smiled, rubbing his hands up and down Ilya’s chest and stomach. “I love you too.”

Neither man bothered to move for quite a while, enjoying just being alone together, the warm water easing their aches and pains. Shane loved it when Ilya was like this… relaxed and allowing Shane to take care of him. Every now and then, Shane topped up the hot water, and each and every time, Ilya relaxed back, resuming his position against Shane’s body.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Shane asked after a while, and Ilya managed a sleepy nod. Shane grabbed the cup from the side and filled it, gently pouring it over Ilya’s head, ensuring it didn’t go onto Ilya’s face.

Truthfully, it was a rare occasion where Ilya gave himself over to Shane like this, just letting him entirely take the lead. Ilya preferred to give instructions, telling Shane what to do, and Shane was happy to follow. But right now, it felt right for Shane to look after him in this way, in a way that nobody else got Ilya, would ever get to have Ilya again.

"You okay?" Shane asked after a minute, feeling the way Ilya had gone almost unnaturally still.

"Mhm."

"You'd tell me if something hurt?" Another sleepy hum. Shane smiled despite himself. "Very convincing."

A faint twitch at the corner of Ilya's mouth answered him. Shane worked the shampoo into Ilya’s curls with his fingers, loving how Ilya nuzzled back into his touch. He rinsed it out with another cup of warm water, using his hand on Ilya’s forehead to shield his eyes from the suds. Both men were silent, but it wasn’t awkward. 

After weeks of being interrupted at all times by nurses taking observations, doctors checking on Ilya’s health and visitors appearing, the peace and quiet of this room was almost sacred, and Shane didn’t want to leave. Ilya stayed still as Shane started to wash his body, moving his soapy hands over the firm planes of Ilya’s torso, slightly softer than they’d been before the accident, but Shane knew Ilya would work to get his fitness back to its peak.

“Ready to get out?” Shane asked a while later, and finally, Ilya nodded, sitting forward so that Shane could get out first. He could feel Ilya’s eyes on him as he stepped onto the bath mat, his body dripping. He put his hands on his hips, turning and smiling at his fiance.

“You are gorgeous,” Ilya said, sinking back into the water while Shane reached for a towel, drying his body before he wrapped it around his hips. “Am lucky man.”

“So am I,” Shane chuckled, grabbing another towel from the side for Ilya. “Up you come.”

Ilya stood up slowly, allowing Shane to help him over the edge of the bath again. He shivered slightly as the cool air of the bathroom hit his body, and Shane made quick work of towel drying Ilya before he wrapped the towel around his hips too, about to lead him out of the room when Ilya paused, looking at his reflection in the slightly steamed up mirror.

“I don’t..." Ilya started, swallowing hard, "Sometimes I don't see me now. Am not the same Ilya."

“I see you,” Shane said, resting his chin on Ilya’s shoulder, staring at their joint reflection. “I recognise you every time.”

Ilya nodded, but Shane could see the tears welling just seconds before Ilya let them fall. Shane wrapped his arms around Ilya’s waist, holding him tightly.

“Sorry. Am emotional wreck,” Ilya said wetly, shaking his head at himself. “Am tired. Everything makes me cry.”

“I think that’s allowed,” Shane said carefully. “You’ve been through so much.”

Ilya nodded before he tilted his head, resting it against Shane’s as he let his body sink back against Shane’s. Nothing dramatic, just the quiet weight of someone who had spent months holding himself together finally deciding, for a few minutes, that someone else could do the holding.

“I’ve got you,” Shane murmured, just supporting him in that quiet, stoic way he always had. The words weren't a promise that everything would be easy from here. Neither of them believed that. But it was a promise that Shane was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he’d always be by Ilya’s side.

To Shane’s surprise, it was Ilya who took Shane’s hand and led them out of the bathroom. The bedroom door was closed, but Shane still glanced at it to check before Ilya pulled him against him, a hand on the back of Shane’s head as he led him into a kiss. Their bare chests were pushed together as they sank into it, soon losing themselves in each other. It was a complete turnaround from the softly intimate moments they’d just shared, but at the same time, it was so perfectly them that Shane couldn’t resist. 

“Fuck, Shane…” Ilya murmured, his hands working at the soft skin of Shane’s hips before they fumbled almost nervously with the tuck of Shane’s towel, pulling at it until it fell open then to the floor, pooling at Shane’s feet. “Want you-”

“You’re tired,” Shane started to protest but apparently, Ilya wasn’t anymore. Shane pulled at Ilya’s towel and soon, they were bare, their arousal apparent against each other. “Fuck- you’re sure?”

“Have waited for this,” Ilya panted, his hands reaching down and grabbing at the globes of Shane’s ass. “Want to be inside you.”

Shane let Ilya tug him towards the bed, watching as Ilya climbed on tentatively, still cautious of his injured arm, and the leg that was still causing him trouble after the road trip they’d taken to get here. He was still hard when he settled back against the pillows, just staring at Shane with that familiar look he’d sent Shane’s way so many times before… a look of pure lust, desire… want.

Shane crawled onto the bed, thinking about how this would go, in the back of his mind thankful that his parents’ room was on the other side of the house upstairs and they would not be able to hear them if they weren’t overly loud. He knew that Ilya wouldn’t have the strength to take charge tonight so he quickly manoeuvred himself onto Ilya’s thighs, sitting down gently to make sure he wasn’t hurting his fiance.

“I won’t break,” Ilya said as his hands found Shane’s hips once more, biting his lip as he looked up at Shane.

“I know, but I don’t want to hurt you. Want this to feel good.” He rolled his hips in a slow circle, his cock pushing against Ilya’s with the movement. “Going to let me ride you?”

“Please-” Ilya asked,  and Shane leaned in, kissing him. “I don’t know if I can…”

Shane looked down, smirking when he saw that Ilya was hard. “I think you can.”

“No, I- I can fuck you. But…” Ilya awkwardly held up his right hand, frowning at it. The diamonds on his engagement ring sparkled in the soft light of the room but suddenly, Shane knew what he meant.

“I can open myself up. Or you can use your left hand? We’ll make it work, it’s not a deal breaker,” Shane insisted, reaching a hand down between them and wrapping both of their cocks in his hand. 

“I… you let me try?”

“Of course, baby,” Shane said with a smile, knowing that he’d give Ilya the world if he asked. If this was to be their new normal, they were going to figure it out together, and Shane had all the time in the world for Ilya to learn how to be himself in this new body. “Want me to move or…”

“No, you’re fine,” Ilya said, and he pulled Shane down into a kiss so filthy, it almost took Shane’s breath away. He was the one to pull away only enough to grab the lube, setting it down on Ilya’s left side. “You will tell me if you don’t like it?”

“I’ll like it,” Shane answered confidently, knowing there was very little Ilya could do to him that he wouldn’t like. “I’ve waited so long to be with you like this again. As long as it’s you and me, it’ll be perfect, Ilya.”

Shane shifted himself onto his knees before he helped Ilya uncap the bottle, drizzling some of the liquid onto the fingers of Ilya’s left hand. He held his breath as he felt Ilya’s hand go behind him, pushing between his cheeks before they touched his entrance, making him gasp. He pushed his index finger in slowly, and while usually Shane was relatively quiet in bed, he knew Ilya needed more from him tonight.

“Ohhh, so good,” he moaned, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead down on Ilya’s shoulder, gently rolling his hips to let Ilya keep dictating the pace. “Fuck, Ilya…”

“Is good?”

“I love it,” Shane said, pulling up long enough to look into Ilya’s eyes. They didn’t usually have sex like this. Usually, it was fast and frantic, both of them desperate for each other in a way that hadn’t waned in all of the years they’d been together. Shane loved how much he always wanted Ilya just as much as Ilya wanted him.

But this felt different. It felt softer, more gentle… full of love. Like there was nowhere else either of them needed to be. Every touch of theirs lingered instead of feeling rushed, like they were trying to say everything they couldn’t with words. Shane could feel it in the way Ilya was breathing heavily against his body, the way his eyes kept looking to Shane’s, checking he was okay. This wasn’t about proving anything. It was just about being together again, enjoying each other.

“I love you so much,” Shane whispered, and Ilya looked up, smiling that small, private smile that hardly anyone else ever got to see. It was only for Shane, for moments like these.

“I know,” Ilya whispered, slipping in a second finger alongside the first, slightly clumsier than usual but Shane didn’t mind. He leaned in and captured Ilya’s lips in a messy kiss, letting their bodies work together in a way that didn’t need any instruction. Shane could tell when Ilya tired and he whispered for him to push in a third, knowing he was close to being ready. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know you won’t.”

Ilya did as he asked, and Shane let out a long, low moan as he felt his body stretch to accommodate Ilya’s thick fingers. He’d taken them so many times before, of course, but it had been so long since he’d touched himself or since Ilya had been inside him that it was certainly a stretch. 

“I’m ready,” Shane panted a few minutes later, and he stayed as Ilya pulled his fingers out. “You okay?”

“Mm,” Ilya hummed, nodding. “Just… odd. I will maybe get used to it.”

“You will. Ready?” Shane said as he pushed up onto his knees, reaching behind to grab Ilya and line him up.

“Condom?”

Shane usually didn’t like the mess that came with unprotected sex, but tonight he just wanted to feel Ilya without anything between them. He just shook his head. “Not tonight. I want to feel you. Is that okay?”

“Always,” Ilya confirmed, gripping Shane’s hip with his left hand, his right hand resting on Shane’s thigh. “Ебать, Shane…”

Shane sank down slowly until he was settled in Ilya’s lap, his fiance buried deep inside of him. He let out a few breaths, adjusting to the stretch, and he could see Ilya was struggling to keep himself together as well. He slid a hand into Ilya’s curls and tugged gently, making Ilya look at him.

“Good?”

Ilya just nodded, his jaw clenched. “Please move.”

Time felt like it stood still as Shane lifted himself up before pushing down again, both of them groaning simultaneously. It felt a lot to be this full again, but it was perfect in every way. Shane hadn’t realised how much he’d missed this and he started to pick up his pace, using the strong muscles in his thighs to ride Ilya, letting Ilya adjust his legs underneath Shane until he was comfortable. Shane kept kissing Ilya, keen to keep them connected as much as they could be as their bodies relearnt each other.

“Love you,” Ilya muttered, pressing kisses down Shane’s jaw, across his collarbones, over his neck, any part of Shane he could reach. He felt Ilya’s fingers find his nipples, pinching and squeezing them as he worked their bodies together, his hands finding their home on Ilya’s shoulders.

“Love you too,” Shane managed to say back, his voice cracking under the emotion of everything they were sharing right now. “Feel so good, Ilya.”

“Always want to be inside you,” Ilya replied, looking back at Shane in awe, his eyes looking at Shane’s body, at how his powerful thighs were guiding their movements, how the muscles of his abs contracted with each undulation of his hips. “You are fucking beautiful.”

Their lips met again because Shane couldn’t help but kiss Ilya, each rise and fall of his hips driving them both closer to their impending orgasms. Ilya was big in the best way, and Shane shifted slightly so that Ilya would hit that spot inside of him that always had him seeing stars. It took a few bounces before finally-

“Oh fuck-”

Shane threw his head back, his eyes closed tightly shut as the head of Ilya’s cock pushed against his prostate, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. He moved himself just enough that he could hit it over and over, digging his fingertips into Ilya’s skin as the pleasure started to take over.

“Come for me, Shane,” Ilya said, coming closer and locking his lips against Shane’s skin, sucking a mark that would be a reminder of what they’d done for at least the next few days. Usually, Shane didn’t like marks but right now, he wanted to wear Ilya’s bruise like a badge of honour, a token of love that only Shane would ever receive from him.

“You close?” Shane managed to get out, and Ilya gave him a tight nod, moving his right arm so his hand was curled around Shane’s waist, supporting the rise and fall of his body. “Fuck me, Ilya, please-”

“I have you,” Ilya said, and he let his left hand fall, tapping on Shane’s thigh. “Up more, on your knees…”

Shane did as he was told, careful not to let Ilya slip out of him as his fiance planted his feet flat on the bed, only wincing slightly as he adjusted his leg to a more comfortable angle. “You good?”

“Never better.” Ilya flashed Shane a wicked grin before he snapped his hips up, drawing a silent gasp out of Shane. He barely had time to steady himself before Ilya did that again and again, his cock big and thick and splitting Shane open in the most delicious way. Shane threw his head back and moaned, letting Ilya take whatever he needed from him. “Fuck, I’m gonna come-”

“Please,” Shane begged, and he tried to meet Ilya’s thrusts, everything becoming hot and sweaty and slick between them, Shane’s cock leaking against Ilya’s belly, smearing lines of precome against his skin. “Ilya, come in me, I want it-”

Ilya managed only a couple more thrusts before he came into Shane with a cry of his name, probably loud enough to be heard but neither man cared right now. Shane felt everything get wetter, the slide of Ilya’s cock now making an obscene noise.

“Fuck, lyubimyy,” he muttered, his forehead collapsing against Shane’s chest as he breathed hard. Shane grabbed his own cock and fucked his hand hard and fast, Ilya’s eyes boring into his as he came, splattering over their stomachs. Shane felt sore but he couldn’t bring himself to pull off Ilya just yet, enjoying the closeness. “Was good?”

“More than good,” Shane chuckled, kissing Ilya’s lips softly at first, then deeper, trying to tell him without words how loved he was. “How about you? Not in pain?”

“No. Just feel good,” Ilya smiled as Shane grinned back at him. Reluctantly, Shane pushed himself up enough that Ilya could slide out of him, and he winced as he felt the wetness of his hole, the way Ilya’s come was already trickling down his leg. “I’ll get-”

“No, stay there,” Shane said, swinging his leg over Ilya’s hips so he could clamber off the bed. He laughed as Ilya just wriggled down the bed until he was laying flat, an arm flung across his face. Shane hurried into the bathroom and cleaned himself up before joining Ilya, wiping him down with a fresh washcloth. “There.”

“Thank you. Now cuddle me," Ilya insisted, and Shane did just that, turning off the lights before he slipped under the covers and curled into Ilya’s body. It had been the first time they’d properly shared a bed since the crash, and Shane just sighed, finally relaxing in Ilya’s hold. “Home.”

“Home,” Shane agreed, pressing a soft kiss to Ilya’s skin as he felt Ilya’s hand seek out his own. They tangled their fingers under the covers and let their eyes fall close.

Shane knew that home wasn’t a place anymore. It was this. It was the two of them, warm hands finding each other in the dark. It was choosing each other again and again, after everything they’d been through. It was falling asleep in the arms of the person you loved most in the world.

And when sleep finally claimed them both, neither of them dreamed about what they’d almost lost. They dreamed of tomorrow. Their future.

Chapter End Notes

Here's a visual of the 'shitmobile' that Ilya hated so much.
Apologies to anyone who has one, but Ilya is a supercar man... he'd never lower himself to a car like this haha.

Next up:
Shane faces his fears while Ilya supports him.
Hayden and David are the best.

Chapter 21: Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger

Chapter Summary

Not every problem has a solution

New fears to face

Back on solid ground.

Chapter Notes

There’s been a lot online about WIPs with a HEA. I promise this has that. I mean, I think you’re already seeing it heading that way but I just want to reassure you. This is HEA. Never anything but, I promise.

That being said, enjoy this one! Thanks as always for the lovely, kind comments ❤️

Three weeks later

“Good job,” Shane grinned as Ilya sat next to him on the floor, completing the tenth bicep curl with his right arm. He was using one of the lightest weights that Shane had at his parents house, but already, Shane could see that Ilya was getting stronger, as much as he refused to admit as much. “Got five for me?”

Ilya glared at him before he raised his hand again, his arm shaking under the strain as he completed another curl. “Do not need you to, fuck, patronise-”

“I’m not. I’m just… encouraging,” Shane said, but he turned away, going back to his own exercises that his PT had given him for his shoulder. It was healed perfectly well now, but Shane always preferred to err on the side of caution and was still exercising it daily to ensure it stayed healed. 

The thing was, Ilya wasn’t meaning to be rude to Shane. He was still struggling with the changes in his body, and in accepting those. He couldn’t seem to see that Shane still loved him regardless, that he certainly didn’t view him as weak because Ilya didn’t have the same body as before. He’d eventually allowed Shane to play more of a part in his PT, but Shane knew he was still struggling with his fitness and his own image of himself.

“You want a drink?” Shane asked, and Ilya nodded so Shane hopped to his feet, heading to the kitchen. His parents were sitting in the garden, always giving the two men space when they worked out, but Shane bypassed the fridge, heading outside to join them. He sat down heavily on the bench next to his mom, sighing and resting his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

“Everything okay, hon?”

“Just… I don’t know how to help him,” Shane said quietly, not because he was afraid of Ilya hearing him, but because he hated to admit it. “He’s so hard on himself.”

“You have to remember he’s like you,” Yuna said carefully, setting her book down beside her as she turned her attention to her son. “He’s an athlete, and everything has changed for him. You’ve healed from your injuries-”

Shane scoffed, shaking his head.

“Come on, Shane, you have. Physically, at least. I know the mental scars are going to take a lot longer to heal, but your shoulder and your ankle are okay now. But Ilya… it’s different for him. His arm is a constant reminder of what happened to him. And he’s in this awful limbo of not knowing if it’s ever going to get better.”

“How do I help him?”

“I’m not sure you can,” she said almost tentatively, as if she knew that was not going to be the answer Shane wanted to hear. “You just have to be there for him. To support him in whatever his brain is telling him at that time, even if you know it’s wrong. 

Shane frowned at that. “But what if it tells him that he’s never getting better? Never getting back to where he was before?”

“Then you don’t argue with him.”

He saw David look at the two of them over the top of the paper he was reading, so Shane took a breath, making sure to think before he snapped an answer at his mom. “What do you mean?”

Yuna just spoke softly, always the voice of reason. “You don't tell him he's being dramatic. You don't throw facts and figures at him. You don't promise everything will be okay when neither of you can possibly know that.” She paused. “You listen first.”

“But if he’s wrong-”

“Honey, being frightened isn’t the same as being wrong.” Yuna reached for Shane, resting a hand on his arm. “If he says, 'My arm is useless,' don't rush to say, 'No, it isn't.' What he's really telling you is, 'I'm terrified that my life has changed forever.' Answer that feeling, not the sentence.”

“So what am I supposed to say? Am I meant to ignore it?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You can validate his feelings. Say, 'I know this is really hard.' Or, 'I'm sorry today is one of the bad days.' Or even, 'I'm here.' Sometimes those three words do more good than trying to solve the problem.”

Shane nodded silently. “It’s just hard, seeing him so down on himself. He gets so frustrated with himself.”

“I’m sure he does. And you just have to give him space to feel that way.”

“Like this morning. He chose a shirt to wear. Then his hand wouldn’t work properly to do the buttons. And of course he didn’t ask for help, he just ripped it off and threw it on the floor. I don’t know if I should step in to help him or leave him alone.”

“Ask him.”

“What?”

“Ask him what he needs. Let him decide.” Yuna shifted slightly, and Shane sat up, staring out over the beautiful garden. “There's a world of difference between saying, 'Here, let me do that,' and, 'Would you like a hand, or do you want another minute?'”

“I… I think I can do that. I just wish he didn’t see asking for help as such a negative thing.”

“He doesn’t want you to think of him differently. He wants to be the same Ilya that you’ve always known, even if deep down, you both know that he isn’t. That he might never be that person again.”

Shane sniffed, wiping his eyes subtly but of course, Yuna had seen it. “Sorry. I just… I thought him surviving the accident would be the hardest part. I didn’t realise that what comes after would be just as hard in a different way.”

He leaned into Yuna’s side, seeking comfort from her in a way he didn’t usually, not these days. 

“Just keep loving him. You’ve always been good at that, and that’s what he wants from you. And you have us, if you need us.”

“Thank you,” Shane said, and he kissed her cheek before he stood up. “I better…” he waved in the direction of the house, and she just nodded before she picked up her book again, returning to the story she’d been reading. Shane hurried back, grabbing two water bottles on the way back before he arrived to see Ilya laying on his back, the dumbbells on the floor beside him. “You okay?”

“Tired,” Ilya said, but he sent Shane a small smile. “Come lay with me?”

Shane laughed but did as Ilya asked, shifting the dumbbells so he could lay next to the other man. He felt Ilya’s hand find his and let him clumsily lace their fingers, noticing the different tension in all of his fingers. “You didn’t hurt yourself?”

“No. I do not want more pain, Shane.”

“I know. Just checking. I only ask because I love you. You know that, right?”

Ilya nodded, silent for a moment before he spoke again. “I am scared about appointment.”

“With the ortho?”

“Yes. What if he says no improvement? What if… what if this is as good as it gets?”

“Then we work with it. We keep doing PT, we keep you strong. We look at other treatments. We don’t give up.”

“But we need to be realistic.”

“We can be realistic and still have hope,” Shane said, shifting onto his side, propping his head on his hand so he could look down at Ilya, who was finally looking back at him. “You know it doesn’t matter to me, right? If this is how your arm heals. You’re here. That’s what matters to me. You can still hold me, and touch me, and make me feel good. You’re still fucking beautiful, and you still turn me on. You’re still you.”

“я тебя люблю,” Ilya whispered, and Shane leaned down, brushing his lips against Ilya’s. “Help me with legs?”

“Always,” Shane grinned, getting up before he stood over Ilya, hauling him to his feet. “What do you want to do first?”

*****

Their appointment with the ortho was the next morning, and both of them were up early, eating breakfast on the patio. Shane let Ilya sit in the silence he needed, and they both changed into shorts and t-shirts before Yuna and David appeared to wish them good luck. They’d offered to drive them to the hospital, but Shane had quietly refused their help, telling them it would probably be too much for Ilya.

The journey there was quiet too, the radio playing a low hum in the background as he made the drive to see the new specialist in Ottawa. He knew seeing a new doctor was also playing on Ilya’s mind, so he just held his hand, offering his wordless support up until the moment they walked into the room together, Ilya clutching him a little more tightly.

Ilya was sent for X-rays first, then they returned to the doctor, sitting while he analysed the digital images on his screen. He didn’t say much, which drove up their anxiety as he then ran through Ilya’s mobility and strength tests, checking the angles of his movement at his shoulder and elbow. He asked Ilya about his pain management, only looking to Shane when Ilya went quiet, struggling to answer the questions.

They headed out afterwards, and instead of going to the car, Ilya tugged Shane over to a small garden area outside the hospital, sitting on a bench next to Shane, still holding his hand.

“How are you feeling about that?” Shane asked carefully, and he sat patiently, waiting for Ilya to answer him, hoping he’d be honest.

“Is good, yes?” Ilya asked, turning and giving Shane a small smile. “They are happy I can move more. I like numbers, Shane. I can see I am getting better. Slow but is working.”

Shane risked a small smile too. “Yeah, definitely. All that PT is paying off. I knew your movement was getting better, I’ve noticed at home you’ve been bending your elbow a lot more. I’m glad the scans showed that the bone is healing as they expect.”

Ilya nodded, and he looked down at his right hand, turning it back and forth before he moved his arm a little, as if proving something to himself. “Is just the touch.”

“You mean the sensation?”

“Yes. They cannot say I will get it back.”

“Yeah, they said that’s because of the nerve damage,” Shane said, running his fingers across the back of Ilya’s hand, playing with the engagement ring Ilya was still wearing proudly. “You can still move them because it’s different nerves to the ones that help you feel. I wasn’t sure if the doctor was explaining that well…”

“I think I understand,” Ilya said, closing his eyes as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, bathing him a golden glow. “I think I am more… at peace. With being different.”

Shane just held his hand. “I’m glad. And if you’re not, that’s okay too. I’m not going anywhere.” He didn’t move, just letting Ilya take a moment to let everything sink in. “Are you ready to go home? I can make sure Mom and Dad leave you alone.”

“No, is okay. They care. I would like to tell them. Maybe will be easier if I talk about it.”

They arrived home and Shane stayed by Ilya’s side as he updated Yuna and David on his progress, the two hugging him with pride when he shared he was making slow but steady progress, and Shane’s heart felt so full watching it happen. They offered to make lunch so Shane took Ilya’s hand, taking him back to their bedroom, realising it was time to be honest with Ilya himself.

“You’ve been honest with me today, so I think I need to be honest with you, too.”

Ilya just blinked at him. “Okay. I am listening.”

“I…  you know I’ve been medically cleared to go back to hockey. I’m still standing by the fact I’m not ready to return to that just yet. The Metros have been in touch with Farrah, trying to push for it but she’s pushing back, telling them to wait. I don’t want to play yet but…”

“You miss it.”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

“I know. And I mean it when I say I’m not going back right now. But eventually, I think I will. And if I do that… I need to be okay with getting back on a plane again.” Ilya quickly reached for Shane’s hand, and he could feel him trembling at the mere mention of it. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I think I need to try.”

“I… I can’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. Not just yet. But do you understand that this is something I think I have to do, for me?”

“I am scared. I… I cannot lose you. You are reason I am here.”

“You’re here because of you,” Shane quickly corrected, holding Ilya’s hand between his own. “And I know you’re scared. But think about how many flights we’ve been on since we started playing hockey. Hell, even before that. You’ve flown to Russia so many times. Nothing bad has ever happened. What happened to us was just… shit luck.”

“Worst luck.”

“Yeah, definitely. But it doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen again. And I… I really need to do this, Ilya. Hayden and my dad have offered to come with me. Dad has a friend with a private plane. He’s offered to take me up.”

Ilya sighed, hanging his head. “I understand, Shane. And I am proud of you. But I do not think I can watch. I am sorry, I-”

“You can stay here with my mom. She had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to come, so she’d love to stay here with you. She said maybe you could finally teach her how to make that honey cake thing you gave them a few years ago for their anniversary.”

“You are dating Russian man and you do not know the word for Medovik?”

“I just forgot,” Shane laughed, seeing Ilya’s eyes light up. “So… you’re okay with this?”

Ilya shrugged. “I mean… not okay but I understand. You just… you call me, yes? Minute you land. Feet on ground, you call.”

“Of course. You know I’d never intentionally put myself in danger, right? All I want is to be here with you, loving you, living with you, growing old with you. This is just… it’s something I have to do. I need to prove to myself that I can do this, even if I’m fucking terrified.”

“Yes, it is scary but you are brave,” Ilya said and he slowly turned, pulling Shane into a hug. “I am so proud of you, moya lyubov.”

“Thank you. I love you.” Shane kissed Ilya softly, sweetly, just because he could. “I-”

“Shane, honey! You and Ilya want salad?”

“No thank you, Yuna, proper food please!” Ilya yelled back and quickly got to his feet. “Blyat, Shane, they think I am turning into you. Yuna, I am coming…”

Shane laughed as he stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, listening as Ilya pleaded with Yuna to please cook him something of substance, that would fill him up. He collapsed back onto the bed and grabbed his phone, pulling up his messages with Hayden.

He looked up when a shadow fell over him, and he saw Ilya leaning against the doorframe, smiling softly at him.

“You coming to eat?”

“Sure,” Shane replied with a smile, pushing his phone into the pocket of his phone as he walked over to Ilya, surprising him by crowding him into the doorframe, pushing himself into Ilya’s personal space. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“Mm, maybe I am not so sure,” Ilya said, his deep voice vibrating against Shane’s chest. “Maybe you should remind me.”

“Later,” Shane promised, colliding his lips against Ilya’s, deepening the kiss for just a few too-brief seconds. “Come on, lunch time.”

He laughed as Ilya just groaned, leaving him behind to sort out the problem in his shorts by himself. He’d definitely be making up for that later.

3 days later

Shane stayed in the car while both Hayden and his dad got out, heading out onto the airfield, waving at the man waiting by the plane. He’d been all but silent since they’d left the house just over an hour ago, and Ilya had been texting him until Shane had all but ordered him to go and make Medovik with Yuna, needing to focus on what was going to happen.

Hayden and David had apparently understood Shane’s need to be in his own head for a while, because they’d sat up in the front of the car together, talking about hockey, Hayden’s children, a movie they were both looking forward to, everything except what they were going to do with Shane. He appreciated it, but Shane couldn’t deny his anxiety was starting to become crippling.

He jumped when the back door opened and Hayden smiled at him, crouching down next to the car, unthreatening and kind eyed as he looked at him. Shane didn’t want to be touched right now so he was pleased when Hayden just waited for Shane to take the lead.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I get that. How about we just think about getting out of the car first? Then we can take it one step at a time.”

Shane nodded. “I… this is so fucking pathetic.”

“What? Absolutely not. I’d be the same if I’d been through what you and Ilya went through. To be honest, Shane, if you weren’t freaking out about this, I’d be more worried.”

Hayden was silent for a moment and Shane turned, setting his feet on the ground, freezing once again.

“I’ll say this just once, because I know you won’t need to hear it more than that. You’re not standing here because you’re fearless, okay? You’re here because you’re brave enough to be scared but come anyway. Those are very different things.”

“I’m not sure I can do this.”

“You can. But you know what? You don’t owe anyone anything. You have nothing to prove, not to me, not to your dad. Not to anyone. The people who matter already know who you are, how brave you are. If you want to stop this, say the word and we’ll get back in the car and go back to Ilya.  But if there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to push through and do this, then… I’m gonna be here the whole time, holding your hand, whatever you need.”

“I… I need to talk to Ilya."

“Then call him. I’ll wait over there but just shout when you’re ready, okay?”

Shane nodded and he felt himself relax slightly when Hayden got up and walked back over to David and his friend Paul, the man who owned the plane Shane was going to attempt to board. He took his phone from where he’d left it on the seat and pulled up Ilya’s contact, hitting to call.

“Sheynka? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Shane answered, his voice shaky as he sat back in the car, resting against the seat. “I thought I could do this. I thought I could come here and feel fine but I don’t.”

“Then come home. You do not have to prove anything.”

He laughed wryly. “That’s exactly what Hayden said.”

“Fuck. You are making me admit Hayden is wise man. Is terrible day.”

“Fuck off, he’s a good friend, you know it. I just… I want to try to do this. But I wanted to hear your voice. Is that stupid?”

“Nothing you need is stupid. I love you. You want to come home?”

Shane paused, looking through the windscreen at where David and Hayden were just chatting easily, neither of them phased by Shane refusing to leave the car. He felt lucky to be surrounded by such strong support, and it helped make his mind up.

“After. I… I’ll call you after. I love you, Ilya.”

“Go be brave, Мой храбрый, замечательный мужчина.”

Shane blushed as he translated the words in his head. “Your brave, wonderful man?”

“Yes, this is you. Go be you, my Sheynka.”

Shane ended the call a few minutes later and then quickly got out of the car, standing tall even as his heart raced. He saw Hayden look over and when it looked like he was going to walk over, Shane shook his head. He wanted to do at least this part alone

Slowly, he started walking towards the plane, towards the two men in his life that were going to be beside him through this. The plane was of course much smaller than the one he and Ilya had been on that fateful day, but still Shane’s mind flooded him with memories of that awful time. He pushed them aside, his hands clenched in fists by his sides as he came to a stop just in front of Hayden and David.

“You alright, son?” David asked, and Shane just managed a tight nod. “What do you need?”

He just slowly relaxed his left hand and held it out, and that was all it took for Hayden to be at his side, encompassing Shane’s hand in his own.

“Ready?”

Again, Shane wordlessly nodded, letting David and Paul lead the way, walking up the stairs and into the body of the plane while Shane just paused at the bottom, glancing up as nausea rolled around in his belly. 

Hayden stood quietly by his side, waiting with Shane. “We take this at your pace. If it takes you an hour to get on the plane, that’s good. I’m right here.”

In the end, it only took Shane around ten minutes to build up the courage to walk up the steps, clutching Hayden’s hand the entire way. 

Paul came closer as Shane finally put his feet onto the plane, standing up, albeit very shakily. “I’m not going to do anything you’re not ready for. David filled me in, so we’ll do whatever you need. If that’s just sitting here, that’s cool. If you want to go up, that’s cool too. Just let me know.”

“Thank you,” Shane whispered, and he looked to his right, where David was sitting comfortably in a chair, across the aisle from two empty chairs. He just smiled softly at Shane before he went back to whatever he was doing on his phone, making sure Shane didn’t feel too much like he was being watched.

“I… near the window?” Shane asked, and Hayden just nodded, leading Shane over to the two chairs. Shane was certain he didn’t want to sit in the aisle again, that would be too familiar to the flight he’d taken with Ilya. But maybe against the window… he could see the ground. He’d know if something was going wrong.

Almost an hour later, Shane finally felt truly ready for the plane to take off. He watched as his dad got up, walking to the front of the plane before he reappeared, sitting down and putting his seatbelt on across his lap. He gave Shane a small smile and then turned, focusing his attention elsewhere which Shane felt beyond grateful for. 

He felt his whole body start to shake as the engines started up, the plane almost vibrating with the power of it. It felt so different from the commercial flight Shane usually took, but maybe that was a good thing right now. Shane felt movement next to him and he looked down as Hayden reached across, taking Shane’s hand firmly between his own again.

“I’m here.”

Shane nodded and closed his eyes as the plane began to move on the runaway, slowly at first then picking up speed until it was time for lift off. Shane was sure he must’ve been hurting Hayden with how hard he was gripping his hand but his best friend stayed right where he was, silently supporting Shane until they were in the air.

“You did it, bud. We’re up. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Slowly, Shane opened his eyes and chanced a look out of the window, seeing that Hayden was right. They were in the air, and he was safe. He forced his body to relax, his shoulders to go down from where they’d risen almost painfully in anticipation of something terrible happening. 

“Fuck, this is… fuck.”

David peered around Hayden, looking at his son with concern. “You okay? You want to go down?”

Shane quickly shook his head. “Not yet. I… I need to make myself do this.”

“You want to talk about something?”

“Please,” Shane said with a laugh, trying not to cry at how overwhelmed he felt in that moment, and how he felt so seen because David knew he needed distracting without him needing to say a single word.

The cabin was filled with the noise of David and Hayden chatting easily about this article David had read in the New Yorker about how to grow and plant beetroots, David saying he was determined to get it right this time since he wanted Ilya to be able to make his borscht with them. Hayden only contributed by lamenting about the terrible tomato plants he’d tried to grow with the kids that summer that had all but failed.

As they chatted, they didn’t bother to wait for Shane’s input but it was clear they both knew that he was listening. Shane couldn’t help but smile when David changed the conversation to another article he’d read about a newly discovered dinosaur fossil in Africa, how exciting it was for the palaeontology world.

“What are you smiling about? Didn’t realise you were a dinosaur fan,” Hayden said, finally directing a question at Shane who just shrugged a shoulder.

“Ilya always calls Hunter a dinosaur. I… I like thinking about him.”

“Scott Hunter?”

“Fuck off,” Shane chuckled, and he just shook his head when Hayden winked at him, succeeding at taking Shane out of his head if only for a few seconds. “How long has it been?”

David glanced at his watch before he answered. “We’ve been in the air twenty three minutes. Are you done?”

“I think so,” Shane nodded, and he sighed, sitting back slightly in his seat. He turned his head, looking out of the window. “But… I think I’m more scared about the landing than take off. Last time, I-”

He felt his breaths coming quickly, too quickly. His chest felt tight, and the next thing he knew, his dad was crouched down in front of him, his hands pressing down on Shane’s thighs, grounding him. He spoke clearly, his voice a little stronger than normal to break through Shane’s panic.

“Five things you can see.”

Shane took a breath then answered. “Hayden. You. The window. Your bag. Hayden’s shoes.”

“Good. Four things you can feel.”

“Hayden holding my hand. Your hands on my legs. My heart racing. My body in the seat.”

“Three things you can hear.”

“Plane engines. Your voice. A beep.”

David nodded and guided Shane through the last two steps before he just blinked, locking eyes with his father again.

“You good?”

Shane nodded tightly, still feeling tightly wound but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been. “Can we just get this over with?”

Hayden didn’t let go of his hand for a single second as the plane started its descent. Usually, the sensation didn’t bother Shane but all he could focus on was the swooping of his stomach with each dip of the plane, how he gripped his armrest and Hayden’s hand tighter, his mind filled with memories of screams, of oxygen masks dropping, of the fear in Ilya’s eyes.

“I want Ilya,” he murmured, unsure if anyone could hear him.

“I know, Shane. We’ll call him when we land, okay? Won’t be long. He’ll be so happy to hear from you.”

“Fuck-” Shane blurted out as again, the plane started to descend, banking to the right. “I can’t do this.”

“You can, and you are. Tell me about Ilya.”

Shane looked quickly at Hayden, glaring at him. “You know Ilya.”

“I know, but not like you do. Tell me your three favourite things about him. And keep it clean, your dad is here.”

Shane swallowed but decided this could be a good distraction until the wheels hit the ground. “The way he takes care of me. He always makes sure I have everything I need, or he usually knows what I need before I even realise it.”

“I like seeing how much he cares about you,” David said softly, still sitting in front of Shane despite the fact they were landing. “I always hoped you’d find someone who looked after you the way that Ilya looks after you.”

“What else?” Hayden asked, trying to keep Shane on track.

“How brave he is. Not even just because of everything that’s happened with the accident. Of course he’s been brave through that, nearly losing his life, struggling with his arm, coming back from that in the way that he has. I- I don’t know how he’s done it to be honest. But also… he’s had a hard life. He lost his mom so young, his dad was an evil bastard-”

“Shane, my god.”

“It’s true, Dad, you know it is. His brother is shit, so he’s really been on his own since he lost his mom.”

“Until he found you,” Hayden said, and Shane just looked down, smiling slightly to himself. “He’s not alone any more, Shane. He’s got a whole family of people who love him now.”

“I know,” Shane all but whispered, looking between his dad and his best friend, realising how amazing both of them were for loving the man he’d chosen.

“Come on, one more,” Hayden encouraged, and Shane glanced out the window, seeing that they were almost ready to land.

He took in a long, slow breath before he released it, speaking quietly again. “He sees me. He lets me be myself. I don’t have to hide who I am when I’m with him.” He sighed gently. “He doesn’t care that I like things done a certain way. He… indulges me. Stupid stuff, really, that no one else would care about.”

“Like what?” David asked with a soft smile on his face, like he was enjoying this look into his son’s usually fiercely private relationship.

“He watched me load the dishwasher for weeks. Then one day he just… did it, just like I do it. He made sure he knew that it was how I’d want it done. He folds my laundry straight from the dryer, because he knows I can’t bear it when the clothes stay in there and get wrinkled. He bought a whole set of my skincare shit for his place for when I stay over, because he didn’t want me to worry about missing a night in my routine. Like I said… stupid shit but it means a lot to me.”

There was a thud and Shane jumped, tightening his hand on Hayden’s hand until he let out a loud burst of laughter, realising what had happened. 

“You did it,” David grinned, looking proudly at Shane. “And none of that was stupid. It makes you feel loved. That’s the sort of man Ilya is. A man who notices the small things about the person he loves and makes accommodations for them. You have a good one there, Shane.”

A lump grew in Shane’s throat as the plane slowed down to a stop, and David stood up, rubbing his lower back.

“I am too old to sit on the floor. Going to help an old man off the plane, Hayden?”

Hayden raised his eyebrows before he nodded, realising that David was trying to give Shane some privacy. “Oh, sure. Come on, dear.” He held out his arm, and David laughed, linking arms with him as the steps lowered and the two made their way out.

Shane grabbed his phone from his pocket and pulled up the only contact he cared about right now. The phone only rang one time before it was hurriedly answered, and a familiar Russian drawl came through the phone.

“Shane, you are okay?”

“I really am,” Shane said with a smile, feeling more settled from just hearing Ilya’s voice. “I did it. And now I just want to come home.”

“Then come home to me. I am waiting for you.”

It was an hour later that Shane was being shaken awake in the back of the car, frowning and blinking into the sunlight. He looked out of the window and he pressed his lips together as he saw someone waiting by the door, just for him. He stumbled out of the car and took a few hesitant steps forward, his legs stiff from the journey and his heart pounding harder with every step.

He barely heard the slam of the car door behind him, or the chatter of Hayden and David as they followed him towards the house. Everything faded away until Shane was standing in front of the only person he wanted to see at that moment.

“Ilya…”

Ilya looked just as overwhelmed as Shane did. His eyes were glassy, his composure almost crumbling as Shane came closer, just holding his arms open. Shane broke into a run and finally crashed into Ilya, almost hard enough to throw them both off balance, wrapping their arms around each other in a crushing embrace. Shane buried his face in Ilya’s neck, holding him tightly like if he were to let go, he might disappear.

“I’ve got you,” Ilya whispered, echoing the words Hayden had spoken on the plane only a short while ago. “I’ve got you, Shane.”

Shane couldn’t answer. A sob broke free without his consent, and he just clung to Ilya, sobbing out in the open for everyone to see but he didn’t care, barely aware of his parents and Hayden heading quietly inside to allow them time to be alone. All that mattered right now  was that he was home, and in Ilya’s arms, the safest place in the world that Shane knew. 

“I am so proud of you,” Ilya whispered, kissing the side of Shane’s head, still holding him close. “So proud.”

“I was so fucking scared,” Shane said, mumbling his words into Ilya’s neck, but he knew was being heard. “All I wanted was you.”

“But you did it. And you are here now, with me.”

“Take me inside?”

He gasped as Ilya grabbed Shane underneath his thighs, hoisting him up.

“Shit, you-”

“Let me do this,” Ilya said, and Shane just nodded, resting his head against Ilya’s as he allowed his fiance to carry him inside, feeling how Ilya’s left arm was doing most of the heavy lifting. He walked them through to their bedroom and gently laid Shane on the bed, sighing as he stood up.

“You okay?”

Ilya nodded, reaching and pulling Shane’s shoes off. “I am okay. You?”

“Lay with me?” Shane asked, and Ilya nodded, climbing onto the bed next to Shane, who immediately cosied up against Ilya, letting himself be held. “I’m not sure I want to do that again.”

“You can, and you will,” Ilya said, stroking Shane’s hair to relax him. “It was not easy, but you survive it, yes?”

“I guess. But I had Hayden, and my dad…”

“Is okay to lean on people, Shane.”

There was quiet for a few minutes as Ilya continued to stroke Shane’s hair, Shane’s fingers tracing up and down Ilya’s bare arm.

“All I kept thinking,” Shane said softly a few minutes later, “was if I could just get back here to you, then everything would be okay.”

Ilya’s arms tightened around him for a few seconds. “And you are here. Safe. With me, where you belong.”

Shane tilted his head back, letting Ilya kiss him. 

“Did you sort it?”

Ilya grinned. “I did. You do not trust me?”

Shane shook his head quickly. “Of course I do. Just checking. Kiss me please.”

“You do not even have to ask,” Ilya murmured before he dipped his head, kissing Shane deeply.  When they finally pulled apart, Shane was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. This was exactly where he wanted to be. “I love you, my brave дорогой.”

“I love you too,” Shane said softly, looking up into Ilya’s blue eyes before they kissed again.

If forever felt like anything, Shane thought to himself, wrapped up in Ilya’s arm, being kissed by the man he loved… it would feel just like this.

Chapter End Notes

Up next..

Finally!! My FAVOURITE chapter! God, I love it so much that I’m not going to say a thing about it.

But I can’t WAIT for you to read it! 😁😁

Chapter 22: Whatever may come, your heart I will choose

Chapter Summary

The gang’s all here.

The one in which everyone gets a surprise...

Promise fulfilled...

Chapter Notes

Okay, this is it. This is my favourite chapter of the whole fic.

I really, really hope you love it as much as I do.

Just enjoy, and PLEASE let me know your thoughts!

❤️❤️❤️

Three weeks later

Shane glanced across to see Ilya smiling wolfishly down at his phone, his texting slower with his right hand but he was proud that Ilya was persevering with it.

“What’s so funny?”

Ilya just chuckled to himself. “Cliff. Is fun to wind him up.”

“That poor man,” Shane said with a smile, rolling over and plucking Ilya’s phone out of his hand, setting it down on the mattress behind him before he looked at his fiance, their bodies close. “You still feeling okay about today?”

“Of course. I am excited to see everyone.”

“I just… I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Ilya sighed, pulling Shane closer so that Shane was pressed against him. “Shane, is our friends. I am okay with this. I am excited, yes?”

Shane grinned, pulling Ilya into a gentle kiss. “Me too. We should get up soon. I promised my parents we’d eat breakfast with them before we have to leave.” Ilya laughed again and Shane shoved playfully at his shoulder. “What now?!”

“Just… I already told Cliff I eat breakfast. Twice.”

“Ilya, my ass isn’t breakfast.”

“Is for me,” Ilya said, and Shane just pulled back, admiring just how beautiful Ilya looked when he was relaxed like this, smiling and laughing at him. He reached out and stroked Ilya’s cheek softly, kissing him again. “You are getting soft, moya lyubov.”

“Just so happy,” Shane said. “I’m happy that all the people we love are going to be in one place. I’m happy that you’re smiling and laughing again. I’m happy that we’re so happy, Ilya. And I’m so fucking happy about today.”

They kissed lazily for a few minutes, enjoying the last few minutes of the morning alone together, only parting when there was a soft knock at the door. Shane rolled back from Ilya slightly, calling that whoever it was at the door could come in.

“Morning, you two,” Yuna said with a smile, her head poking around the door. “Breakfast is ready if you want to join us.”

“We’ll be right there, Mom,” Shane replied, smiling at her. He loved that he could be like that with Ilya in front of her now, and that he’d gotten past any embarrassment of his mom seeing him in bed with the man he loved. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey. See you in a minute.”

The two dragged themselves out of bed, pulling on shorts and tank tops before they walked hand in hand through to the kitchen, where David was just filling up their plates with piles of scrambled eggs, and bacon for Ilya too. They took them and went over to the table, settling next to each other, opposite where Yuna was already sitting and waiting for them.

“Hayden and Cliff have arrived,” Shane said as Ilya sipped his coffee next to him. “Feels like forever since we’ve seen them together.”

“You know that makes them sound like a couple,” Ilya mused, laughing around a mouthful of egg and bacon. “But yes, is good to see them.”

“And you really don’t need us to do anything for this party?”

“It’s not a party, Mom,” Shane insisted, wincing as Ilya drizzled ketchup all over his eggs. Sometimes, he really struggled to understand his fiance. “Just a gathering of people who’ve supported us the whole time.”

“Is party,” Ilya shrugged, and Shane just rolled his eyes. “To celebrate fact I am not dead.”

David choked on his food and Yuna hit him swiftly on the back several times until he stopped coughing, grabbing for his glass of orange juice and shoving it into his hand.

“Ilya, honey, if you could not just say things like that please,” Yuna said gently, but Ilya just shrugged, still shovelling food into his mouth. “I think we’re all very happy that you’re still here with us.”

“Yes, not dead, like I say,” Ilya said, and Shane felt him press his foot on top of Shane’s under the table. “I am gift that keeps on giving.”

“You’re something alright,” Shane said, but he knew he was looking too fond for his own good. “And back to what you said before Ilya reminded us all that he didn’t die. The hotel staff are doing everything, but I appreciate you offering. You just need to turn up and enjoy it with us.”

“Oh I will be enjoying it,” Yuna said. “It’ll be nice to see everyone together and to thank them all for supporting my boys when they needed it.”

Ilya blushed, as he always did whenever Yuna referred to the two of them as her boys. Shane knew it meant so much because it had been so long since Ilya had properly had that type of maternal love, and he loved his mom even more for giving that back to Ilya. 

“Thank you, Yuna.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. You need me to iron your shirts?”

“Please-” Ilya said just as Shane said “we can do that, thank you.”

“Shane, I hate ironing.”

“I know. That’s why everything you wear is permanently wrinkled. It’ll be good for your arm to try ironing.”

“I will do one thousand bicep curls over ironing.” Shane just stared back at him, arching an eyebrow and Ilya sighed, already giving in. “Fine. I will do stupid ironing.”

David just smirked over at Ilya. “If only the world could see what I’m seeing right now. Ilya Rozanov agreeing to do ironing because his boyfriend told him to.”

“Fiance,” they both corrected at the same time, making Yuna and David laugh. Ilya’s hand found Shane’s thigh and squeezed gently. Today was going to be so much fun.

Six hours later

Shane walked back into the house, his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his shorts. He’d made sure Ilya had gone into the shower just in time for the delivery so that its arrival would be a surprise and now he couldn’t wait to show his fiance the surprise he’d arranged for him for today. His parents had already headed off to the hotel where the party was happening. Shane had thought ahead and booked them a room at the hotel so that he could have some time with Ilya truly alone. He loved his parents but living with them was sometimes a mood killer.

He went through to their bedroom and saw Ilya standing there completely naked, rubbing moisturiser into his chest, lifting his necklace up so he didn’t get that covered.

“You didn’t knock,” Ilya said as he noticed Shane come to a stop, just staring at him. “Shane?”

“First of all, it’s our bedroom so I don’t need to knock. Second of all, the door wasn’t even closed. Third, you chose to stand there naked. I’m allowed to look at what’s mine.”

He walked over to Ilya and put his hands on Ilya’s bare hips. “Get dressed. I did something for us for today.”

Ilya’s blue eyes darkened, and he leaned in slowly, so slowly that Shane’s heart started to beat a little faster, completely caught up in Ilya’s orbit. “You don’t want to get naked with me?”

“I actually don’t,” Shane laughed, resting his palm on Ilya’s chest. “I want to save it until later.”

“чертова дразнилка,” Ilya muttered before he Shane’s lips, heading to grab some clothes from his drawer, pulling on black boxer briefs then some clean shorts and a Raiders t-shirt. Their party outfits were already in a garment bag that Shane had hanging up. 

“How am I a tease? You’re the one who was standing there naked. I’m literally fully dressed.”

“You are always a tease. Look at you,” Ilya grinned, hooking his finger through the belt loop on the back of Shane’s shorts as he followed him through the house, pausing at the front door. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere yet. Just… come with me?” Shane took Ilya’s hand and pulled him out of the house, heading down the driveway. He’d made the driver drop it off just down the street so that Ilya wouldn’t see it immediately. He almost stumbled when Ilya came to a halt, tugging on Shane’s arm.

“Shane.” 

“You like it?” Ilya didn’t answer so Shane looked at him, pleased to see the surprise on his fiance’s face. “I’ll take that as a yes. Want to go over?”

Ilya just nodded and let Shane lead him over. “Shane, I- how?”

“I have contacts,” Shane said a little cryptically. “I wanted today to be really special. I wasn’t going to make you turn up in the Ford Explorer.”

“No, shitmobile is… fuck, Shane. You do this for me?”

Shane just nodded. “Rented it for a few days. I wanted today to be everything you’ve ever dreamed of, Ilya.”

“But McLaren P1, Shane. Is not common, I have tried so long to get one.”

“I know, Ilya. That’s why I’ve made it happen. You deserve the fucking world. I know you can’t drive it but I’m hoping just being in it will be enough.”

“I love you so much," Ilya blurted out and pulled Shane into a crushing kiss, his hands grabbing either side of Shane’s face, holding him right where he wanted him. Shane went easily, trying not to smile into the kiss. “Can I get in?”

Shane pulled the keys from his pocket, grinning as he dangled them in the air. “Sure.” 

He watched as Ilya gleefully grabbed the keys and hurried over to the car, pulling open the butterfly doors with a silent ‘wow’. It was a little awkward for Ilya to get in behind the wheel, his leg still occasionally playing him up but soon enough, Ilya was in, his hands wrapped around the wheel as he just looked around. Shane walked over, leaning on the roof of the car as he peered down at his man.

“Happy?”

“I did not think today could get better,” was all Ilya replied, his eyes a little misty, not that Shane drew attention to it. “We can drive?”

“How about I go and grab our bags, and we go for a drive before we get to the hotel?” Shane suggested, laughing as Ilya nodded eagerly. “Alright then. I’ll be back in a minute. Love you.”

“I fucking adore you, Shane,” Ilya said, reaching out and grabbing Shane’s hand before he could walk away. “Thank you for being best person in the whole world for me.”

“You can thank me later,” Shane grinned, pulling Ilya’s hand to his lips and kissing him before he walked away. The house was quiet without Ilya, and Shane worked quickly, collecting up their overnight bag he’d packed the night before as well as their garment bags. Ilya’s sunglasses were on his bedside table so Shane grabbed those as well as their chargers and headed out, realising everything would be different the next time they came back here.

He walked out to the street, seeing Ilya taking selfies of himself behind the wheel of the car. He looked so utterly joyful that Shane almost wished he’d done this sooner, because whatever it cost would’ve been worth it to see Ilya so utterly carefree and happy. He tucked the bags into the too small trunk, carefully folding the garment bags on top. 

“You ready?” he asked a moment later, and Ilya nodded, letting Shane help him out of the car. He walked around while Shane got himself behind the wheel, adjusting the seat and mirrors until he was happy. “Fuck, why am I nervous?"

“You drive shit Jeep, Shane,” Ilya said, pulling on his seatbelt. “You are not used to so much power.”

“Fuck you,” Shane laughed, starting the engine and jumped when it roared to life. “Oh my god.”

“Blyat, she sounds beautiful,” Ilya grinned, grabbing Shane’s right hand. “Let’s go, Shane. We have one hour until we need to be at hotel. I want to spend every minute on the road in this car.”

Shane nodded, putting the car into drive. “Then let’s go, baby.”

90 minutes later

“Ready?” Ilya asked, taking Shane’s hand. He looked so handsome, standing there in his cream linen shirt and black jeans. His curls were effortlessly tousled in that way that Shane loved and he smiled, adjusting Ilya’s cross so that it lay just outside of the material, not hidden away, not today.

“Yeah. You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” Ilya replied, pulling a bit of lint from Shane’s shoulder, letting it flutter to the ground. “Blue is your colour.”

Shane looked down at the outfit he was wearing, feeling a bit glad they hadn’t chosen to wear anything too fancy. This felt far more then, and Shane felt comfortable. “Thank you. Let’s go. Everyone is waiting for us. Mom texted me twice asking us to come down.”

“Laura is ready?”

“Yeah, she’s arriving in about an hour,” Shane answered, seeing Ilya nod as they headed out of the room together. The hotel they’d chosen for the party was nice, and they’d been very accommodating of everything Shane and Ilya had arranged. They’d made sure that nobody else had been involved in any of this, and spent the past two weeks on the phone or emailing back and forth to make sure everything was exactly how they wanted it.

The noise level grew as they approached the function room, and Shane felt Ilya squeeze his hand a little tighter. They paused for a second, turning to face each other.

“Я тебя люблю.”

Ilya smiled softly. “Я тоже тебя люблю. Let’s go inside, дорогой.”

Shane reached for the handle and pushed the door open, grinning at the large gathering already inside the room. It was made up of everyone in their lives who they loved, and Shane felt himself already getting emotional as they walked inside, everyone slowly noticing their arrival and  turning to face them.

“Uncle Shane! Uncle Ilya!”

Shane just about managed to bend down in time to catch Ruby Pike flying into his arms, while Jade just barrelled into Ilya’s legs, holding him tightly. He watched as Ilya used his left arm to lift her up, holding her on his hip.

“Look at you two! So big now,” Ilya grinned, looking quickly between both girls. “I have missed you both.”

“Mommy and Daddy said you was hurt. Are you better now?”

“Jade, don’t be stupid! Of course he is, Mommy said that’s why we are having a party!”

“I’m not stupid-”

“Hey, come on girls,” Shane said, keen to stop the fight before it got any worse. He knew that Hayden’s girls loved each other but they also knew exactly how to get under each other's skins. “We’ve missed you, we don’t want to see you fight today. Your dresses are so pretty.”

“Mommy got them for us. And she braided my hair. Nearly as good as you do it, Uncle Ilya!”

“Ah yes, I will give your mom lessons,” Ilya grinned as Hayden and Jackie approached. The girls wriggled down from Shane and Ilya’s arms, freeing them to hug both of their friends. Jackie looked emotional as she put her hands on Ilya’s arms, just looking at him like she couldn’t believe he was real.

“Look at you. You look so much better, Ilya.”

Ilya just hugged her again, sinking into her embrace as Cliff Marleau made his way over, grinning at Shane. He went easily into Cliff’s hug, thanking him quietly for coming.

“You think we’d miss a chance to celebrate Roz? No chance. He looks good.”

“He’s getting better every day. I think he’s finally accepting everything now.” He glanced over at Ilya, who was crouching down and talking quietly with Arthur Pike, who had decided that Ilya was his favourite person the last time they’d met. “He deserves this. To be surrounded by people who love him.”

“Sveta is here. I know she said she couldn’t make it but she wanted to surprise him.”

“Oh my god. Really? Where is she?”

Cliff nodded towards the other side of the room. “Talking to Connors and Coach. Shall we take him over?”

Ilya stood up as Arthur wandered off with his sisters, grinning at the sight of Cliff. The two men hugged and then Cliff winked at him.

“Got a surprise for ya, Cap.”

Shane hung back slightly as Cliff led Ilya over to the other side of the room, grinning at people as they pushed through the crowd. Shane saw the moment Ilya saw Svetlana, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as she came over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug, the world around them falling away.

Ilya had been so upset when Svetlana had texted him to say she wasn’t going to be able to make the party, and he’d disappeared to their room, leaving Shane alone on the couch to watch the end of the movie alone. He’d of course paused it and followed Ilya, holding him as Ilya had cried on his shoulder. This, though, made up for all of that.

Shane walked over slowly, hearing them talking in Russian before Svetlana pulled away, patting Ilya’s cheek gently. She turned to Shane and pulled him into a hug as well, kissing both of his cheeks.

“You’ve made him very happy, you know that?” Shane said, and Svetlana just smiled, nodding. “Thank you for being here.”

“As if I would not be here for you and Ilyusha,” she replied just as Ilya was pulled into a team hug with his Raiders teammates. “He is like a different person. In a good way.”

Shane could only nod. “I agree. This whole thing has changed him, without a doubt. But not just because of what happened to him.”

Svetlana looked at him, waiting for Shane to continue.

“I think he realises that maybe life is going to look different from now on, but that that’s okay. For a while, I think he felt he had something to prove. That he wanted to be the Ilya that he was before. Now… I think he’s finally stopped chasing a version of him that maybe doesn’t exist anymore. He’s happy with who he is. For now, at least.”

“He is smiling more. I like it when he smiles.”

“He is, and I do too.” They stood together in comfortable silence for a moment, watching Ilya allow himself to be embraced by his teammates, people who had never stopped supporting him, whether in person or in numerous calls and texts since. “I used to worry,” Shane admitted. “Not that he'd stop playing. But that he'd never stop trying to punish himself for what he'd lost.”

Svetlana reached down, taking Shane’s hand. “He doesn’t anymore.”

“No. I think… he’s finally found peace.”

When he was finished talking to Svetlana, Shane made his way over to the Metros who were gathered, mingling easily with the Raiders and Shane’s family. In this room, Shane realised that teams, loyalties, didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were here for one purpose, to support their friends, and that meant the world to Shane. He chatted with groups of people, surprised to see new friendships that had been formed, but incredibly grateful for these people who could see beyond the sport they all loved to the humanity beneath it.

An arm snaked around Shane’s shoulders, and he leaned in, resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder. 

“This is perfect, yes?”

“It really is. I can’t believe all these people have come here just because we asked them to.”

“They love us,” Ilya admitted easily, pressing a kiss to the top of Shane’s head. “And they do not even know truth yet.”

They shared a secret smile, then Shane glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes.”

David and Yuna came over then and the pair parted, letting themselves be dragged over to the bar they’d paid for. Neither man wanted alcohol, with Shane choosing a ginger ale, and Ilya an alcohol-free beer, the two clinking their bottle and can together. Yuna was nursing a glass of red wine, and David had a glass of vodka, which made Ilya look ridiculously proud.

“You’re having fun?” Yuna asked, and both Shane and Ilya nodded.

“This is… perfect. All the people we love together.”

“Is the food coming out soon?”

“David! Do you always have to think about your stomach?!” Yuna chastised, and Shane just laughed, loving the banter his parents had after so many years together. He hoped he and Ilya still had that together in forty or fifty years time.

“I’m with him, sorry Yuna,” Ilya shrugged, nodding at David. “I am hungry too. Maybe soon, yes?”

They both looked to the door and saw a woman slip inside, smartly dressed in a navy suit, holding a folder in her hands. They smiled at her then turned back to Shane’s parents.

“Excuse us…”

They headed over and each greeted the woman with a kiss to her cheek, talking quietly. She nodded, answering their questions and they walked away from her, turning to each other and realising this was it.

“How are you going to get their attention?”

“Do not worry, lyubimyy,” Ilya said, putting two fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly, in a way that easily got the attention of a rowdy locker room. Thankfully, it worked here too and everyone turned in their direction. “Sorry, Arthur,” he apologised to the little boy who had clapped his hands over his ears at that noise.

“Uh, first of all, thank you all so much for coming out here for us,” Shane started, clutching Ilya’s hand at his side. “We wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of your support, and we figured the best way to do that would be to bring everyone together.”

Ilya picked up the speech. “You all supported my Shane when I could not. I will forever be thankful for all of you being there for him. These last five months... they have not been easy. There were days when we did not know what next day would look like. There were days when we were scared, frustrated, angry, exhausted.” He smiled faintly. “Probably all of those things at the same time.”

Shane continued. “But every time I thought I was alone… one of you was there to remind me that I wasn’t.” Ilya squeezed his hand, smiling softly at him. “You made sure I ate even when I wasn’t hungry. You sat with me in waiting rooms, quietly because you knew I couldn’t talk. You called, texted, checked in with me, even when I insisted that I was fine. You all knew I was lying.”

A gentle ripple of laughter rose in the room.

Ilya looked around the room, meeting familiar faces one by one.

“My whole life, I believed I had to carry everything myself. That asking for help meant I had failed somehow.” He shook his head gently. “You all proved me wrong.” He turned to Shane. “And this man reminds me every single day that he still loves me. Even when I did not think I deserve it.”

Shane couldn’t help from leaning in and kissing Ilya before he spoke again. “I think something we both learned through all of this is that life doesn't wait until you're ready. It doesn't promise tomorrow, or next year, or that there'll always be another chance to tell people how much they mean to you.”

“So,” Ilya said, his smile growing, “we decided we are done waiting.”

A few confused glances passed around the room, and Shane and Ilya shared a secret smile.

“We told you all that we were throwing a celebration party to thank everyone who has stood by us,” Shane said, eyes passing over everyone in front of him, hanging off their every word. “And that wasn’t a lie.”

Ilya swallowed, speaking clearly. “But it was not only reason we asked you to be here.” He looked over at Shane with complete adoration before he continued. “So since all the people we love are in this room together… we would like to ask you join us for one more special thing.”

Shane’s smile broke into the biggest grin that anyone in the room had seen on his face in months.

“Because,” he said, grinning at Ilya, who was smiling just as widely. Ilya’s eyes were sparkling, and Shane could feel himself getting emotional. 

“We’re getting married.”

He paused just long enough for the surprised chatter to settle down. He smiled at the sight of everyone exchanging shocked glances, disbelief painted on every face around the room.

“Right now.”

It was silent for a moment before a voice rang out, loud and clear in the room over the gasps and cries of shock in the room. 

“Are you fucking serious?!”

Ilya laughed, nodding his head. “Yes, Marly. We are serious. I am going to marry my Shane.”

Someone started clapping and then everyone was joining in, cheering and applauding the couple who were quickly becoming overwhelmed by the love and support surrounding them. Yuna and David came towards them first, and Yuna went straight for Shane, while David pulled Ilya into a tight hug.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Yuna whispered, already crying. “I can’t believe you’ve done this without telling me.”

“This is how we wanted to do it, Mom. Just for us. Because we want to be together forever.”

“God, I'm so happy for you. For both of you,” she said as she and David changed places, Yuna embracing Ilya now while David hugged his son fiercely. 

“I am so proud of both of you,” David said into Shane’s shoulder. “This is just… perfect for you.”

Shane just nodded, knowing that if he spoke again, he’d start to cry.

People came over one by one to congratulate them, pulling them into hugs and kissing their cheeks. Shane felt emotional watching Svetlana talking softly at Ilya, holding his cheeks in her hands as he touched his mother’s cross. She wiped away his tears before they fell, and Shane was so grateful that Ilya had his own version of family by his side today. 

They accepted hugs and congratulations from the rest of their guests before finally, they managed to get everyone’s attention again, asking them to head to the garden outside of the function room that had been set up for their small ceremony. Shane called, asking his parents to wait behind and when the room was quiet again, they spoke to David and Yuna, a conversation just for them.

“We’re not doing a big traditional thing,” Shane said, and Ilya nodded at his side, letting out a breath before he spoke, his words spoken quietly to Yuna.

“I would like to ask you if you would please walk me down aisle, Yuna?” Ilya asked, and Shane watched her lips tremble with emotion at Ilya’s question. “You are the closest thing I have to a mama.”

“It would be my honour,” she said, quickly hugging Ilya tightly, pushed on her toes to loop her arms around his shoulders.

“And Dad, would you-”

“You don’t even need to ask, it is my honour” David grinned, hugging Shane again. “Now?”

“Now,” Shane confirmed with a nod. “We’ll go first.”

Shane kissed Ilya and then walked over to the doors, linking arms with David as they stood and waited for a few seconds. “Thank you, Dad. For accepting this.”

“There was never anything to accept, Shane. You fell in love with a good man." David glanced toward Ilya, smiling as he watched him waiting with Yuna just behind them. "He loves you, you love him, and the two of you make each other happy. That’s all your mother and I have ever wanted for you."

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, son. Ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready in my life,” Shane grinned, and they stepped out of the doors to a loud round of applause from their gathered friends and family, everyone mingled together as they cheered for him. Laura, their celebrant, was standing at the front, smiling as Shane came to a stop in front of her, looking out to wait for Ilya.

It was only a few seconds later that Ilya emerged, arm in arm with Yuna, the biggest, softest smile on his face as he made his way through the crowd of their closest friends and family, eyes locked only on Shane. This was the moment Shane had been waiting for, and now it was here, he just couldn’t wait to make Ilya his husband.

Yuna hugged Ilya as they arrived beside Shane, and she then scooped her son into a quick hug too, kissing his cheek before she stepped back, tucked into David’s side as they both looked on, their emotions clear on their faces. Cliff was standing with an arm around Svetlana, her head resting on his shoulder, and next to them were the Pike’s. Their best friends, the people who had been for them all along. 

“Thank you all so much for being here,” Laura announced, and everyone quietened down, ready for the biggest moment of Shane and Ilya’s lives. “Shane and Ilya have asked you all here today to witness their marriage. They both have vows they would like to share, and I believe Shane would like to go first.”

Shane nodded, deciding to leave the piece of paper he’d scribbled his notes on in his pocket. He knew what he wanted to say. He just had to get it out without crying.

“Ilya. There was a moment that I thought we might not get here. The accident reminded me how fragile life really is, and how much you mean to me. We survived, and I will never take for granted every second we get to spend together from now on.” He sniffed, and was unsurprised to see Ilya already crying.

“You are my safest place, my home, my best friend, my person. You’re the best part of every single day. I can’t promise this is always going to be easy, but I do promise that you’ll never, ever face anything alone again. I promise to always choose you, to love you and to stand beside you through the rest of our lives. I love you so much.”

“Fuck,” Ilya said as he let out a laugh, wiping at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I am a mess, Shane.”

“It’s our wedding.” Shane said, taking Ilya’s hands in his own again. “You’re allowed to be a mess today.”

Laura smiled, turning to Ilya. “Ilya, would you like to share your vows?”

“I will try,” Ilya said, and everyone around him laughed gently.

“I never understand why people talk of home as a person. Then I met you. You became my home. When I thought we would not make it on the plane, you were only thing in my head. Your laugh. Your smile. The way you hold me. All I wanted was one more day with you. Somehow, we have that now. We have a lifetime.”

Shane let the tears fall, as much of a mess as Ilya was now. Usually, words like these from Ilya were private, something he’d never allow anyone else to hear but he was saying them now for everyone to hear, proud of his love.

“You have loved me through fear, pain, through hardest moments. You never let go. Your love changed me, Shane. So I promise you my heart, my love, all of me. I will tell you everyday you are loved. I want to grow old with you, watch you panic over grey hair-”

“God,” Shane laughed, pleased that Ilya had made everyone laugh.

“Maybe one day raise babies with you. I want to wake up to you every day. You are easiest decision I ever make. I would give up everything for you, even if you do not ask. My place is by your side. Being your husband will be greatest honor of my life. Я буду любить тебя вечно, Шейн.” [I will love you forever, Shane.]

“Thank you,” Laura said, smiling at both men who were still facing each other, holding hands. “You have both made your promises to each other, the foundations of your marriage. Do you have the rings, please?”

Both men reached into their pockets, pulling out the gold bands they’d chosen, each engraved with S&I inside. She led them through the next part of the ceremony, asking them to repeat the lines they’d chosen as they slipped the fingers onto each other’s fingers, Shane marvelling at the sight of Ilya wearing his wedding band next to his engagement ring, leaving the world in no doubt that he was Shane’s now.

“You have promised your love and commitment to each other through your vows, and the giving of your rings. It is my greatest joy to pronounce you husbands. You may now kiss your husband!”

Shane and Ilya grinned widely at each other before they surged together, kissing fiercely while their family and friends made their delight known, whooping and cheering as Shane dipped Ilya, holding on tightly as they laughed and kissed.

“Thank you for choosing me,” Shane whispered against Ilya’s lips.

“There was never anyone else,” Ilya replied honestly, his eyes shining with joy and tears.

“I love you, husband.”

“I love you, husband,” Ilya laughed as they finally came up to stand, turning to face their loved ones.

“Please join me in congratulating the newlyweds, Shane and Ilya Hollander!”

There was stunned silence for a moment as the announcement of Ilya’s new name sank in before the cheers erupted again, and Shane and Ilya started to walk through hand in hand, smiling as people started to snap photos on their phones. They’d decided early on that the only photos they wanted to have of the day were taken by their guests, people who knew them and would capture them in the best way. 

The next hour passed by too quickly, with Shane and Ilya taking countless photos with their guests, smiling until their faces ached. It was everything they hoped it would be, and they didn’t let go of each other's hands as they made their way around, thanking people for coming, for celebrating with them.

It was only as he turned to find Yuna that Shane saw two people slip through the doors, freezing when he realised who they were.

“Oh my god-”

Ilya frowned, looking in the same direction as Shane. “Who is that?”

“Come with me,” Shane grinned, dragging Ilya over with him. He came to a stop in front of them, laughing as he shook his head. “You- how are you here?”

The older couple smiled warmly at Shane, then at Ilya. “Your dad found us at the hospital, when we saw you that day. He asked to stay in touch. He asked us here.”

David came to stand beside Shane and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Ah, I was hoping to catch you before Malcolm and Edna arrived.”

“You invited them? But how did you know-”

David grimaced slightly. “I have a friend in City Hall. Mark saw me in town the other day…”

Last Thursday

David quickly replied to the text from Yuna and hurried down the street, wanting to hurry up and get home. He’d promised Shane and Ilya that he’d barbecue the burgers that night, and he didn’t want either of them making a start without him. They deserved a rest while they were still in Ottawa.

He pushed his way through the door of the pharmacy, grabbing Ilya’s prescription for him and then barrelled outside, not looking where he was going when-

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“My fault, I wasn’t looking- Mark? Hey, good to see you,” David grinned, shaking hands with the man he’d known since Shane was a young man, and their two sons played on the same pre-K hockey team. “How is Toby doing?”

“Good! He’s assistant principal now, got a promotion a couple of years ago. I think he misses just teaching Phys Ed but he’s doing well.”

“Amazing, you must be proud.”

“Not quite the MLH, but yes, very proud. I see congratulations are in order!”

“Oh?” David asked, frowning a little at the obvious excitement on Mark’s face. “How so?”

“On the wedding? I saw that Shane had filed for a marriage licence earlier this month, you know I have to approve all the applications nowadays. I assume the wedding has already happened?”

“Uh no, not yet,” David chuckled, trying not to act shocked that apparently, his son and Ilya were getting married and had told no one about it. 

“That accident looked awful. Are they both doing okay now?”

“Yeah, they’re doing good. They’ve been through a lot, but they’ve had each other and that’s helped.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. Elise and I were thinking of the both of them when we saw the news. I’m sure it was hard, them being outed in that way.”

“Yeah, it… it wasn’t easy. But they’re a strong couple. Yuna and I are really proud of how they’ve handled everything.” He glanced at his watch, realising he was going to be late. “Sorry to run, but I’m going to be late for dinner. Maybe we could go out for dinner soon, Yuna would like that.”

“That would be good. Great seeing you, and please pass on my congrats to Shane.”

“I will, thanks. See you soon.”

David walked away, but his mind wouldn’t slow down. It appeared that Shane and Ilya were planning some sort of wedding, and that they wanted nobody else to know. Usually, David told Yuna everything, but he had a feeling that if he did that, Shane’s secret wouldn’t stay that way much longer. Maybe, this time, he had to prioritise Shane and Ilya’s privacy. They definitely deserved that much. And they’d share when they were ready…

“You knew, and you didn’t say anything?”

“It wasn’t my place,” David shrugged. “I figured you’d tell us all when you were ready. Then last weekend you told us about this party, everything clicked for me at that point. Seeing your mom’s face today when you announced you were marrying Ilya was worth keeping it in all week.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Shane said, surging forward and pulling David into a hug. “For everything.” He pulled back, turning to the couple who were still watching them. “Ilya, I was sitting next to Malcolm and Edna on the plane. I saw them again at the hospital, when I was there and waiting for you…”

“Ah. Is nice to meet you,” Ilya said with a smile, quickly shaking their hands.

“This is my husband, Ilya,” Shane said, glowing at being able to use Ilya’s title for the first time. 

“We were so happy to hear that you came out of everything alright,” Malcolm said with a soft smile. “Your young man certainly wasn’t leaving you alone, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t,” Ilya said, looking emotional. “You were not hurt?”

Edna shook her head. “Just bumps and bruises luckily. I’m not sure how some people managed to come out of it better than others. You were one of the unlucky ones.”

Ilya nodded towards his arm, the scars obvious in the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. “I am still here, and I have just married love of my life. I think I am very lucky.”

“I thought it would be nice to invite them along. They’ve been messaging me about the two of you since we saw them, Shane. It was really nice, having someone else care so much about you.”

“Apart from the entire roster of two hockey teams, you mean?” Shane said, but he was only teasing. David blushed and shrugged. “Sorry, Dad, ignore me. I’m really glad you could make it. Can we get you anything to drink?”

“Oh, we can sort ourselves out, dear, but thank you. You get mingling with that new husband of yours.”

Shane grinned, looking down at his wedding ring, then at Ilya’s. “Will do. Thank you for coming. Dad, can you introduce them to Mom? I think she’d like to meet them. Thank you again for coming.” 

“Da, thank you for coming,” Ilya smiled, taking Shane’s hand again. “We will be back.”

They continued making their way around their guests, accepting lots of hugs of congratulations, as well as taking countless pictures with their guests. A few people insisted on snapping photos of just Shane and Ilya, although they’d already asked everybody to avoid posting anything on social media until they’d made their own posts later on. 

“You doing okay?” Shane asked a while later when they’d headed inside, leaning against the bar as they waited for more drinks. “How does it feel? Being married, I mean.”

“Best feeling in the world,” Ilya said, leaning in and kissing Shane, the metal of his wedding ring cool against Shane’s cheek. “Say it, please.”

Shane smiled and took the drinks from the bartender, handing Ilya his before he asked. “Say what?”

“My new name.”

Shane blushed but didn’t drop his gaze from Ilya’s. “Ilya Hollander. Fuck, I love it.” All of a sudden he teared up and covered his face with his hands.

“Hey… hey hey hey. What is wrong, moya lyubov?” Ilya asked, taking Shane’s drink and setting it down, giving him his whole attention. “Shane, what do you need?”

“A minute,” Shane mumbled, wiping at his eyes with a napkin Ilya had produced from somewhere. “Shit, I’m sorry-”

“Do not apologise for emotion. Is natural. But can I ask what has made you sad? You want to be Rozanov instead?”

Shane laughed, shaking his head. “No, I mean, yeah, of course I’d take your name but I just…” he sighed, knowing that just talking about this was going to hurt. “I remember that you asked me about taking my name when you were… when I didn’t know that you were going to get out. It was the only time you smiled. Like the thought of it was enough to keep you going. It was this tiny little thing, but you looked so happy. Like you'd already decided that was your future.”

“Sheynka…”

“When you lay there and closed your eyes, when I couldn’t wake you up, I just remember thinking that it wasn’t fair. That you never got to have your new name. That we never got to get married after everything. We’d spent so long hiding that it felt like a cruel twist of fate that we wouldn’t get it after all.” The tears fell again, and Ilya pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly.

“But is okay, yes? We are married, I am your husband. I know it was bad but we made it, Shane.”

Shane looked up at his husband, seeing the absolute love radiating from him. “I… I love you so much, Ilya Hollander.”

They kissed softly, lost in their own world for a moment. “You sound so proud when you say it,” Ilya said with a smile, playing absent-mindedly with Shane’s wedding band.

“I am proud. I’m proud that you’re my husband. Proud that you’re my family. Proud that you want to have my name.” His voice wobbled, full of emotion. “I don’t think I'll ever stop being proud of that.”

“I did not just choose name,” Ilya said, cradling Shane’s cheek. “I chose you.”

He kissed Shane's forehead first, then the corner of his mouth, then finally his lips, slowly, unhurriedly, like they had all the time in the world.

“Mr and Mr Hollander, fucking beauties! God, that’s fucking weird!” J.J. said, coming up behind the two and flinging his arms around their shoulders. “Look at you, all loved up. You fucking deserve this. You’ve been through so much…”

The two of them nodded, but J.J. wasn’t done.

“I’m just really fucking glad you survived long enough to get here.” He leaned in, pressing a loud kiss to Shane’s cheek before doing the same to Ilya. Both of them were laughing and wiping away the kisses before J.J. left them alone.

“Ready to head back to it?”

Shane sighed but nodded. “Yeah. I just… I want to be alone with you.”

“Soon, I will make it worth the wait,” Ilya whispered into his ear, pulling back and winking at Shane. “Come on, husband. Let’s go.”

It was almost four hours later that Shane finally persuaded Ilya to leave the party. Hayden, Jackie and their children had gone a few hours ago, but had promised to swing by Yuna and David’s before they flew back to Montreal in a few days. The newlyweds did another quick lap to thank their guests, and finally slipped out, deciding they didn’t want a big send off.

Shane turned to head to the elevators to go back to the room they had checked into earlier when they first arrived but Ilya grabbed his wrist and started heading toward the front door. 

“Where are we going, Ilya?”

“You think you are only one who can make wedding surprise?” Ilya said, winking at Shane. “I do not want to spend the night at same hotel with our family and friends.”

“Why not?” Shane asked, wondering if his husband had really lost the plot this time.

Ilya did not respond but simply kept walking toward the valet stand to collect the car. Ilya groaned when he caught sight of the McLaren P1 again as it pulled around.

“You know it is killing me I cannot drive it, yes?”

“I know,” Shane said as he unlocked the car, watching Ilya lift his door open. “I think I would’ve liked to see you in this.”

He started the car and was surprised when Ilya cleared the directions on the navigation screen, quickly typing in another zip code.

“What are you doing?”

“You asked where we were going, we go there.”

“Ok, but why Ilya?”

“Fuck me, Shane,” Ilya joked in exasperation, resting his head back against the chair. “Because I want to fuck my new husband loudly all night. Do not really want people to hear how good I make you feel. Noises are just for me, okay?”

Shane’s body responded to Ilya’s comments and he swore under his breath, grinding the heel of his hand down against himself. ‘Shit, you can’t- can’t just say that.”

“Can and did,” Ilya shrugged, spreading his own legs to show he was just as affected as Shane. “Good job this car goes fast…”

Just over half an hour later, Shane was pulling up in the parking lot of a very upmarket hotel, getting out and handing the valet the keys. The young man looked like all of his Christmases had come at once as he realised he had to drive the P1, with Ilya muttering ‘lucky bastard’ under his breath as he practically stomped off, dragging Shane and their bag in his wake.

There was already someone at the desk, so Shane and Ilya hung back a little, trying to wait patiently, but apparently, patience and Ilya were not friends. 

“So, you are finally going to sit naked in my lap, yes? Like you promised?”

“What?”

“Your text. Before… on plane. You never got to do it.”

“We literally fucked like that the other night, Ilya.”

Ilya rolled his eyes. “Yes, but is my wedding night now.”

“Wait… you remember that?!” Shane asked in surprise as Ilya just shrugged. 

“I… sometimes read old texts. Is fun to remember when we had to hide.”

Shane just arched an eyebrow at his husband. “Well, how about tonight we stop worrying about being careful with you?”

Ilya just blinked at him. Shane stepped closer until they were almost chest to chest, his voice dropping. 

“Tonight. You take the lead.”

“Fuckkk,” Ilya growled, and he captured Shane’s mouth in a kiss far too indecent for their public setting. He only pulled back when he heard the couple in front of them leaving, and he grabbed Shane’s hand, marching them over to the desk. 

“We have reservation,” Ilya said quickly, keeping Shane tucked into his side. “Hollander. For one night. Hurry, please.”

“Ilya, my god…”

The man smirked but tapped at a computer before he smiled and nodded, sliding a black keycard across the desk. “Penthouse one, you’ll need to use your key to access the floor. Do you need any assistance with-”

“No, we are fine, thank you! Goodbye,” Ilya called, already marching away from the desk. Shane was blushing but he couldn’t bring himself to care when Ilya positioned himself behind Shane as they waited for the elevator. He was hard against Shane’s ass, and Shane couldn’t help but grind back a little, teasing his husband. “Shane, we are in public…”

“You started it,” Shane replied, letting Ilya drag him into the elevator. He slid his keycard into the slot and pressed the button for the top floor. “The penthouse, hmm? I seem to remember having fun in a penthouse all those years ago…”

“But now you are my husband,” Ilya all but purred into his ear as the doors opened, revealing the palatial suite Ilya had booked for them. “And I will not forget to kiss you tonight.”

“Wow, this is- fuck, Ilya, what are you doing?” Shane protested as Ilya grabbed his hand, all but dragging him across the room. 

“Yes, nice suite, good view, we can check it out later. Right now, I want you in bed.”

The bedroom was enormous, with what Shane assumed was a gorgeous view over the city. He  was barely able to get a glimpse of it before Ilya was pushing him against the wall, kissing him deeply, his fingers already fumbling with the buttons of Shane’s shirt.

“Off, off,” Ilya muttered as he pulled at the fabric, throwing it to the floor and for once, Shane didn’t bother to protest about it. He let his head fall back as Ilya’s kisses moved from his lips across his cheek, down his jaw and his neck, making him moan. 

“God, you- fuck, Ilya-”

“What do you want?” Ilya asked, grinding his hips forward, both men hard by now and not bothering to try and hide it. “Tell me, Shane.”

“Want my husband to fuck me,” Shane managed to say, his own hands shaking as they tried to work open the button and fly of Ilya’s trousers. He shoved them down, and Ilya barely moved as he stepped out of them, kicking them to the side before Shane did the same to his own, leaving both men only in their boxer briefs. “Want it hard, Ilya. Want to feel you.”

Ilya practically growled before he slowly got to his knees, and Shane bit back the urge to warn him to be careful, the words disappearing from his head as Ilya yanked his boxers down, licking slowly from the base of Shane’s cock to the glistening head, letting his tongue dip all too quickly into Shane’s slit. Shane cursed but then Ilya took the head of Shane’s cock into his mouth. It was warm and wet, and Shane’s hands flew into Ilya’s curls, tugging at him as Ilya bobbed his head, sucking and working his hand on the part of Shane not in his mouth.

“Fuck, yes, like that,” Shane said, tugging a bit more, knowing Ilya liked it when Shane pulled his hair. “Want to come in your mouth-”

Ilya popped off, peering up at Shane. His hand was still wrapped around Shane’s cock and the sight of it made Shane want to come. “You taste so good, lyubimyy. Do it. Want to swallow all of you.”

He went straight back to it, and it took everything Shane had to keep himself upright. Ilya knew exactly what Shane liked, and how to make him come apart, and he was using all of that to his advantage right now. Ilya’s right hand was between his own legs, his cock pulled out over the waistband of his own boxers, getting himself off to sucking off Shane. It was hotter than Shane could admit. 

“Fuck, I’m close- fuck, Ilya, fuckfuckfuck-”

Ilya just sucked harder, swirling his tongue on the sensitive underside until Shane spilled thick and fast into Ilya’s mouth, using his hair to hold Ilya in place. Ilya’s forehead was almost pressed to Shane’s stomach, and he only released him when Shane was sure he’d finished coming, entirely spent.

Ilya just sat back on his knees, continuing to stroke himself as Shane looked down at him, his cock already twitching at the sight despite the fact he’d just had an amazing orgasm thanks to his new husband. 

“On the bed,” Ilya instructed, but Shane helped Ilya to his feet first before did as he was told, watching as Ilya fumbled in their bag, grabbing lube and a string of condoms that he dumped on the bedside table before crawling between Shane’s legs, grinning down at him.

“Going to have amazing married sex now,” Ilya said, pulling his own shirt off over his head, throwing it out of the way as he rolled his hips down, leaving a smear of precome on Shane’s thigh. “Want me to take care of you, hmm?”

Shane shook his head. “No, I- I want you to fuck me so hard I forget everything except you. Want you to have to carry me out of here tomorrow.”

“Blyat,” Ilya cursed, his fingers finding Shane’s nipple, twisting it before he leaned down, taking it in his mouth. “On your hands and knees. Now.” His left hand slapped at the side of Shane’s ass, and he scrambled to comply, already feeling like he was going out of his mind with desire and a need to be fucked. 

He saw Ilya’s hand reach out and snatch the lube, and he lowered his head and chest to the mattress, gripping the sheet underneath him in his fists, anticipating the first touch of Ilya’s fingers against him, the first time as husbands. 

“Ilya, please-”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers inside me,” Shane begged, not caring how he sounded right now. He widened his knees and arched his back, exposing himself as much as he could to his husband. “Please, fuck me-”

“I will,” Ilya said, his accent more pronounced as it always was when Ilya was turned on. “So desperate for me, малыш.” Ilya sank a finger in, not taking too much time and Shane just groaned, fisting the sheet more roughly, scrunching his eyes shut at how good it felt to be full again. It wasn’t enough, nowhere near, but it was something. “God, you feel so tight.”

Shane gasped as Ilya leaned down, licking a long stripe from the top of Shane’s neck all the way down the base of his spine, biting roughly at the meat of Shane’s ass cheek. It was a lot, but Shane pushed his hips back, seeking whatever Ilya wanted to give him. 

“Yesssss,” he moaned as Ilya pushed in a second finger, crooking his fingers at just the right angle to hit Shane’s prostate, his cock leaking between his legs, not that Ilya was paying it any attention right now. Shane’s hand snuck underneath his body but Ilya reached for it, his grip with his right hand on Shane’s wrist not at all tight but it didn’t need to be. “Please-”

“No. I want to touch you. Only me.”

Shane just nodded, relaxing as Ilya started to push in a third finger. Shane didn’t really need it, but he stayed where he was, letting Ilya lead whatever was happening right now. He whimpered when suddenly, Ilya’s fingers disappeared, leaving him too empty. He was about to beg when Ilya tapped his thigh, trying to get his attention.

“Shane, you want condom?”

He thought about it for all of a second before he shook his head. “Want to be full of you.”

“Fuck. I have such a filthy husband, hmm?” Ilya asked, and Shane peered back, seeing his husband coating his cock liberally with lube. It was just seconds later Shane felt the blunt head of Ilya’s cock pressing against his hole, and he sighed happily, pushing back to let Ilya sink in, buried to the hilt. “Oh, Shane…”

“Please, fuck me,” Shane pleaded, and Ilya’s hands found his hips, gripping tightly as he tugged Shane’s body back, slamming hard into him. “Oh god, yes-”

It was fast and frantic from then on. Ilya didn’t hold back, giving Shane exactly what he’d asked for, and Shane thought about nothing but Ilya and how good his husband was making him feel.

A string of filthy curses tumbled from Ilya’s lips as he finally let go, fucking Shane with abandon in a way they hadn’t since the accident. Both of them were getting louder, Shane moans of pleasure encouraging Ilya, and Ilya… well.

“My fucking perfect husband,” he stuttered, his eyes fixed on the bounce of Shane’s ass every time he slammed his hips against him, “so fucking good for me. Take my cock so good-”

Ilya surprised him when he grabbed Shane by his chest, yanking him up, the two pressed back to chest. Ilya’s hand found Shane’s throat and just lightly rested there, a tease of something they’d tried a few times that Shane liked more than he wanted to admit. He was still buried inside Shane, and the two panted, catching their breaths. 

Shane turned his head so that they could kiss, and their lips met messily, a tangle of tongues and teeth as Ilya’s free hand roamed Shane’s body, touching every part of him he could reach. Ilya’s hips made small movements against him, Shane feeling every movement of Ilya’s cock inside him. It was almost a sensory overload but he didn’t want to stop.

“Put your hand back,” Shane begged, and his eyes fluttered shut as Ilya’s hand wrapped gently around his throat again, putting just enough pressure that Shane’s eyes momentarily rolled back in his head. “Oh my god-”

“Gonna make you come, lyubimyy,” Ilya growled, and he started snapping his hips in earnest, Shane’s body pulled tightly against his own. It was filthy in the best way, and Ilya slid his left hand across from Shane’s hip, circling Shane’s cock and tugging roughly on it, just the right side of painful.

“I’m- I’m so close, please- can I come, please-”

“Come for me,” Ilya whispered, and then he said the words which sent Shane over the edge, coming with the loudest cry. “Come, мой муж.”

Shane had learned the Russian for my husband a few weeks ago, but hearing Ilya say it like that as he fucked him was everything. He came messily over himself, over Ilya’s hand, over the hotel sheets. He let Ilya move his body, pushing him back against the mattress as he fucked him in a rhythm that took Shane’s breath away. 

Ilya slammed in one final, brutal thrust and came, collapsing on top of Shane’s back as he came inside him, crying out Shane’s name before he bit down on his shoulder, no doubt leaving a mark but Shane didn’t care. He wanted to wear Ilya’s ring, Ilya’s mark. He wanted the world to know he was Ilya Rozanov’s, and that Ilya was his.

“Fuck, Shane…’ Ilya groaned as he carefully pulled out, Shane wincing at the loss. He could already feel Ilya’s come leaking out of him, and he sighed happily as Ilya’s fingers pushed between his cheeks, pushing the come back inside. “So wet…”

“Your fault,” Shane muttered, his voice hoarse, his body completely spent. “That was… Jesus, Ilya. You fucked me so good.”

“I start marriage as I mean to go on,” Ilya chuckled, kissing Shane slowly, much more carefully than they had just moments before. “I love you so much. Was that okay? You are not hurt?”

“You could never hurt me,” Shane said, turning gently in Ilya’s arms, moving out of the wet patch. “I don’t want to take us out of the mood, but are you alright? You didn’t hurt yourself?”

“I’m sore but in best way,” Ilya reassured him, kissing Shane’s shoulder. “I like being sore because of being with you.”

Their second time was slower, much more languid with Ilya on top of Shane, cradling his face in his hands as he rocked inside of him. Shane’s ankles were hooked around Ilya’s lower back, keeping him close as they kissed, savouring every moment of each other. Words of love and the word ‘муж’ were said several times against slick lips, and when they came together, Shane just held Ilya against him, both trembling through the aftershocks of a strong orgasm.

It was almost three in the morning when Shane finally changed the sheets while Ilya was in the bathroom, deciding that two rounds of sex and mutual blowjobs was enough until the morning. He was beyond sensitive but he already knew he wouldn’t be able to resist when Ilya tried to have sex with him again in the morning. 

He’d just curled up under the sheets when Ilya got into bed behind him, resuming his usual position, tucked up against Shane’s body. Acres of bare skin were pressed together, and it was perfect in the best way. Shane lifted Ilya’s right hand, kissing his wedding band.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” Ilya said, almost slurring his words through exhaustion. “Sleep now, lyubmiyy.”

The next morning

The sun was filtering in now that Shane had put the automatic blinds up, and he smiled to himself, realising that this was the first full day they’d spend as husbands. He rolled over, turning to see his husband was smiling just as much as he was.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice low, not yet fully woken up. 

Ilya sighed, kissing Shane before he answered. “Ah. This beautiful creature that I love.”

Shane smiled to himself. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ilya grinned, his hand stroking up and down Shane’s bare flank. “Is so pretty. A miracle really.”

Shane knew he was blushing now, but he didn’t care. He loved when Ilya spoke about him like this.

“Is a miracle of motorsport, feat of engineering-”

“You asshole!” Shane laughed, shoving at Ilya, but his husband just rolled on top of him, pinning Shane’s wrists against the mattress.

“Amazing McLaren P1… was in my dreams last night…”

Ilya rolled his hips down but Shane quickly shook his head. “You’re not fucking me now, not if you’ve spent our wedding night dreaming about a fucking car…”

“But I want to fuck you,” Ilya begged, and Shane smirked, knowing he wouldn’t resist for long. “Will have alone time with car later.”

“What the hell did I marry?!” Shane moaned, but that was the last coherent thought he had for a while.

They reluctantly checked out of the hotel, and Shane left Ilya to settle their bill, unable to look any of the staff in the eye after getting through three lots of sheets in just one night. He was sure Ilya had left a hickey on his neck that morning, the rub of his collar on his sensitive skin a giveaway. 

Ilya took his hand as they headed outside, waiting for the valet parking to bring the car around. Shane heard the McLaren before he saw it, and he smiled to himself at how Ilya’s eyes lit up, watching as the car approached. Shane thanked and tipped the valet before he stowed their bag in the trunk, pausing outside.

“Can I drive? Just a bit?”

“No, you’re not cleared.” Ilya sighed, actually pouting. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“When you have to return it?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.” Shane grabbed his phone from his pocket. “Let me call the owner, see if we can keep it a few more days.”

“Да, дразнить,” Ilya said with a big grin, stroking his fingers down the car’s shiny purple paintwork. Shane made sure Ilya was looking at him as he dialled, lifting his phone to his ear. He watched as Ilya’s phone rang from his pocket, some obnoxious ringtone and Ilya reached for it, answering it without checking the screen. “Hello?”

“Oh, hi. I believe this is the owner of the McLaren P1?”

Ilya’s head snapped over, frowning at Shane. “I changed contact name to husband, and you still call wrong person?”

Shane just smiled. “Listen again.” He motioned for Ilya to hold his phone back to his ear, repeating what he’d just said, changing the phrasing from a question to a statement. “I believe you’re the owner of the McLaren P1.” 

For a long moment, Ilya didn’t react at all until finally, he laughed, his eyes dancing with joy.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Shane. Do not joke.”

“I’m not.’ He reached into his pocket, grabbing the key and holding it out. “It’s yours. Consider it my wedding gift to you.”

“Holy fuck,” Ilya said, taking the keys but still staring at Shane. “You bought me P1.”

“I know. You like it?”

“I fucking love it,” Ilya grinned. “Even if I cannot drive it yet.”

“It’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready,” Shane said softly. “You deserve everything."

“I love you so much,” Ilya laughed, pulling Shane against his body, kissing all over his face for everyone to see. “I love you, you crazy, generous, beautiful man.”

“Love you too. Now, are we going to stand here all day, or are you going to let me drive your wedding present home?”

Chapter End Notes

Ahhhhh, so there we go! They finally did it their own way. Worth the wait?

Up next:
Ilya's turn to be brave again
The newlyweds make a big decision...
Ilya's greatest achievement...

FYI, Ilya's pressie...

Chapter 23: We'll make Heaven a place on Earth

Chapter Summary

What we do know…

Framed accomplishments.

Caught on camera...

Chapter Notes

Can't believe we're at Chapter 23 tbh. Another long one, sorry about that...

I'm so happy everyone loved Chapter 22 as much as I do. Your comments made my day.

We're almost at the end so I hope you enjoy this one too. xx

Two weeks later

“Do you have any more questions, Ilya?"

Shane glanced across to see Ilya shaking his head, still looking down at his arm. The doctor added a few more things to the notes he was taking on his computer, and Shane wished he could know exactly what was being written. He hated when things were kept from him. 

“Alright, well, I think we’ll book you an appointment for another month’s time. Your physical therapy appointments are still booked in?”

“Yes, every week,” Ilya replied. “And I am doing exercises at home with my husband daily.”

“That’s good. The more you can exercise the arm, the more improvement we can hope to see. I know you are feeling disheartened, Ilya, but you really shouldn’t be. There was a very real possibility that you were going to lose your arm. Now we’re here and you still have the limb, you have some functionality and you are making good progress. Please see this as a positive sign.”

“I do.” Ilya rose to his feet. He extended his left hand, something Shane had noticed him doing more and more lately. He’d also attempted to write something in his left hand the other day before launching the pen at the wall in frustration. Shane hadn’t known how to help other than wrapping his arms around Ilya and holding him tightly until the tears had stopped and he’d stopped shaking. “Thank you, doctor.”

“Yes, thank you,” Shane said, shaking the doctor's hand as well before he followed Ilya out of the room. Ilya didn’t slow down, and Shane wasn’t surprised when Ilya skipped the elevators, heading straight for the stairs. He stayed just a few steps behind, letting Ilya work through things in his mind, even as they walked outside into the hospital grounds.

Eventually, Ilya slowed down and sat on a bench. Shane sat wordlessly next to him, playing with his wedding ring, waiting for Ilya to be ready to talk. It was getting cooler now that autumn was approaching, and Shane tugged his jacket around him a little tighter to keep warm. Ilya reached out and took Shane’s hand into his lap, but Shane wasn’t sure exactly how long it was until Ilya spoke again.

“I hate they cannot give me answers.”

“About hockey?” Shane asked, and Ilya just nodded. “I guess it’s because they don’t know. They don’t want to make any promises or give you false hope.”

“Raiders are calling later. Will want to know. I don’t know what to tell them.”

Shane just shrugged. “Well, we will tell them what we do know. That you’re still healing, that you’re making positive progress. That we don’t have a definite answer about when you’ll return to hockey.”

“If.”

“What?”

“If I can return.”

Shane shifted his body, turning to completely face Ilya. “If that's how you want to think about it, that’s fine. But I prefer to think about it as when you’ll be back. Ilya, can I be frank?”

“Who is frank?”

Shane chuckled, and saw that Ilya was smiling too, clearly saying it just to tease Shane. “Six months ago, I thought you were going to die. I watched them pull you out of that wreckage and do chest compressions on you because your heart had stopped beating. I thought that was it. That I was going to lose you.”

“I-”

“Let me finish? Then I had to wait weeks for you to wake up, and even then, I didn’t know how you were going to be…. What our life was going to look like now. They warned me you might have brain damage from the accident, from being deprived of oxygen. I didn’t know that, even if you woke up, I’d be getting my Ilya back.”

Ilya was staring off into the distance but Shane knew he was listening so he continued.

“But I did. I got you back. And now every day I get to be with you feels like a bonus, okay? Because it so easily could’ve been very different. I don’t pretend to understand how you feel, or what it’s like to wake up in a body that isn’t the one you remember having, that doesn’t always work how you want it to. I can’t imagine how it feels knowing you might not be able to play hockey again.”

“So yeah, the future might not look like the one we’d always planned to have, the one we imagined. But every day, I wake up and I think about everything we do have. We got married, Ilya. We didn’t have to hide and wait years until we retired. We got to tell the world we’re husbands, and they celebrated our love. You’re alive. You can walk, talk, still piss me off…”

Ilya laughed again, his eyes shining again.

“One day soon, I’m sure they’ll let you drive again. We’ll get you skating, on a plane maybe, when you feel ready. So yes, grieve what you feel you’ve lost. I understand that, and I’m here for you.  But I am always going to be grateful for just getting you back. You’re always going to be enough, Ilya, just as you are. With or without hockey, okay? You’re all I want.”

Shane leaned in and wrapped a hand around the back of Ilya’s head, pulling him into a kiss, damn whoever might be watching. It was soft, tentative almost, but Shane could feel Ilya relax against him.  He pulled back but rested his forehead against Ilya’s.

“If you want, I can get Mom to do your meeting with the Raiders management. I can fill her in, and she can deal with it for you. But I think it would be good for you to do this, to tell them in your own words what’s happening.”

Ilya nodded, squeezing Shane’s hand a little. “You will be with me?”

“Of course, if you want me to,” Shane said, and he only just heard Ilya whisper a ‘please’ between them. “Let’s go home, okay? We’ll eat, then we’ll make the call.”

Later that afternoon, Shane and Ilya were sitting at Yuna and David’s kitchen table with Yuna’s Macbook between them, the Zoom app open and waiting for a call. Yuna had helped Ilya run through some answers while Shane and David had made them all lunch, and Shane felt somewhat prepared now. In the end, Ilya had asked Yuna to stay, and she was sitting just out of frame, ready to jump in if either of them gave the signal.

The laptop chimed with a call, and Shane reached out, answering it and making sure he was pressed as closely to Ilya as he could, a reassuring presence. His hand was resting on top of Ilya’s thigh out of shot of the camera, and he could feel Ilya steadying himself with a few deep breaths as the call connected. He’d ensured three times before they sat down that Ilya wanted him there, and now, they were ready.

The call was answered, and the screen was filled with three familiar faces; The Boston Raiders’ general manager Ryan Evans, the team's doctor, and Coach LeClaire. Shane felt Ilya grab his hand tightly, and he squeezed back, telling Ilya wordlessly that he was there and not going anywhere.

“Ilya, it’s so good to see you,” said Ryan, smiling at the pair through the camera. “It’s good to see you as well, Shane. We just wanted to start this by congratulating you both on your wedding. I’ll admit, we didn’t see that one coming.”

The pair looked at each other, sharing a small smile. Ilya answered first. “Was a surprise. We did not even tell Shane’s parents we were getting married.”

“So much had been taken from us,” Shane carried on, smiling as Ilya held up his right hand to the camera, showing off his wedding band. He’d moved it from his left hand a few days ago, asking if Shane minded if he wore it on his right now, as that felt right since he was Russian. Of course, Shane hadn’t minded at all. “We wanted some control back. For us, that was choosing when and where to get married. We didn’t want a circus. We just wanted something that belonged entirely to us. After everything we’ve been through, that was more than enough.”

“Was perfect,” Ilya smiled. “Now I call Shane my husband.”

“Well, as you both requested, in lieu of a wedding gift, the Boston Raiders have made sizeable donations to Air Ambulance Canada, and to the Health Science Centre Foundation. The team have also nominated both of these to be part of their charitable foundations for the foreseeable future.”

Once Shane and Ilya had posted on Instagram about their wedding, the likes and congratulations had poured in thick and fast. They’d both become quickly overwhelmed with the attention, and had quickly requested that Yuna take over for them. She’d asked them to both nominate charities to direct people to if they wanted to send a gift instead, and quietly updated the posts with the links before either of them had a chance to second-guess it.

It had turned out to be exactly the right call. They’d chosen the Canadian Air Ambulance since they’d played such a vital part in getting Ilya to the hospital in time, and of course the hospital that had saved Ilya’s life. Donations rolled in thick and fast, from large contributions from fellow players to smaller but just as meaningful amounts from their fans. By the end of the first evening, the two charities had raised more money than either Shane or Ilya had imagined possible.

“Thank you, we really appreciate that,” Shane said kindly. “Seeing thousands of strangers choose kindness over gifts somehow makes our wedding feel even more meaningful. We’ll never be able to thank people enough for what they did for us, but we thought this was a small way of ensuring they can continue their amazing work and save more lives.”

There was silence for a few moments before the men on the other side of the screen spoke again.

“So. How are you both doing?”

“Good,” Ilya replied, giving the camera a tight smile. “I am working hard to get better.”

“You are still in Ottawa?”

Shane nodded. “We’re staying with my parents at the moment. We’re hoping to get home soon.”

“If I may,” spoke Doctor Cameron, the Boston Raider’s team doctor, “Ilya, thank you for giving your permission to the hospital to share your medical records with us. I’ve had a chance to sit and read through everything over the past few days. You’ve been through a really awful time.”

Ilya just nodded. “Yes.”

“Your recent appointment went well. The doctors seem impressed with your recovery. Can I ask how you are feeling about your arm? Are you in any pain?”

Ilya shrugged, although Shane knew the truth. “Sometimes. If I push myself too hard in PT or in gym with Shane, it aches. Is weird. Sometimes I cannot feel it at all. Then there is so much pain I cannot think.”

“You’re managing this with medication?”

Ilya was quiet so Shane answered for him, knowing how much his husband struggled to talk about this, seeing it as a weakness. “He takes medication when he needs to. I make sure he does.”

“And if I may, I'd like to ask about mobility and sensation. How is this going, Ilya?”

The call with the Raiders team lasted longer than Shane expected it to. Ilya managed to get through all of the questions, but as they were wrapping things up, the GM asked the question that both Shane and Ilya had been dreading. They’d been expecting it but that didn’t make it any easier to hear, or to answer.

“There’s no pressure here, Ilya, but we need to ask. Are you expecting to return to hockey, or is retirement something you’re considering?”

Shane looked across at Ilya, instinctively reaching for his hand. Their fingers intertwined immediately.

“I want to play,” Ilya answered, looking down at the keyboard of the computer. “But I do not know if my body will allow me. I wish I had better answer for you.”

The GM nodded. “That’s a perfectly acceptable answer.”

“I love hockey. I love being on team. I want to come back but I know I have limits now. My body is not same as before. My mind is not, either. I cannot promise to be back just because is what I want. Also I am not ready to say I am done if there is a chance. Maybe only tiny chance, but… is all I have right now. I have to take it one step at a time, as Shane says.”

“Well, your husband is a very wise man. And to be honest, Ilya, that’s exactly what we hoped to hear. You have to prioritise your recovery. And whatever you decide, there will always be a place for you here with the Raiders. You’ve more than earned our support and respect.”

Ilya managed a small nod. “Thank you. Means a lot.”

“Take all the time you need,” Coach LeClaire said kindly. “We’ll keep checking in with you, and whenever you’re ready to make a decision, we’re here. You’re also more than welcome to come to a game. I know the team would be over the moon to have their Captain back with them.”

As the call ended, Ilya let out a long breath he'd clearly been holding for the last five minutes, the tension almost immediately relinquishing its hold on his entire body. Shane wrapped an arm around his shoulders before the laptop screen had even gone dark, pulling his husband against his body.

“You okay?”

"I think so," Ilya murmured. "Is first time I've said 'I don't know' out loud."

Shane kissed him gently. “I’m so proud of you.” He jumped when Yuna pushed back in her chair, the legs scraping loudly against the tile. “Shit, Mom. God, I forgot you were there.”

“Good, that means you didn’t need me. Ilya, it pains me to say it honey, but you’ve got a damn good team behind you. I’m going to go and help your father with the garden. You boys need anything?”

“No, but thanks, Mom,” Shane said as she came up behind them, hugging them and kissing each of them on the cheek before she headed outside, closing the doors behind her to give them some privacy. “Want to go and lay down?”

They were tangled up on their bed when Ilya voiced the thought that had been in Shane’s mind for a few weeks now. He’d had no idea how to bring it up with Ilya so he’d chosen not to, figuring that Ilya would think about it when he needed to. Apparently, right now was that moment.

“They said I could go to games.”

“I know. You think that’s something you want to do?”

Ilya nodded, wriggling closer into Shane’s side, his long leg thrown over Shane’s. “I miss atmosphere. I miss the team, being Captain. Maybe. But…”

He trailed off, and Shane just kept playing with Ilya’s curls, wrapping them around his finger before he released them, choosing another to fiddle with. Ilya’s hand was under the hem of Shane’s shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on Shane’s stomach.

“But what?”

“If I do this… I need to go to Boston.”

Shane’s stomach churned uncomfortably at the realisation. “Right. Are you-”

“I need to get back on a plane. But fuck, Shane, I am terrified.”

The only clue that Ilya was getting upset about this was the silent shakes of his shoulders, and the wet patch Shane could feel growing on his t-shirt as it absorbed Ilya’s tears. He could hear his parents moving around, talking quietly outside the bedroom door but was grateful when the voices disappeared again, leaving him alone to comfort Ilya through this.

“I can arrange for my dad’s friend to take us up if you want,” Shane said cautiously, hoping it wasn’t too much for Ilya right now. “It scared the shit out of me, but I think doing it the way I did made it easier. Only people I trusted and wanted were there, no one judging me.”

Ilya nodded, using Shane’s shirt to wipe his tears away. “Please. But… not yet. I need time to get my head around it.”

“Sure, baby, whatever you need. You just tell me when you’re ready.”

A week later

It turned out that Ilya had needed just under a week to come around to the idea of getting back on a plane, which had surprised Shane. He’d spoken to his dad the night of the Zoom call with the Raiders, broaching the idea of David asking his friend if he’d consider flying Ilya to help him work through his fear. He hadn’t been expecting David to say Paul was absolutely ready when Ilya was, that his friend had already extended the offer to Ilya weeks ago. 

Now, the day was here, and Shane had that awful nauseous feeling in his belly again. Ilya had been up earlier than Shane which was unheard of, and texted Shane, telling him he’d gone on a run and he’d be back soon. That was almost two hours ago, and now Shane was feeling worried.

“Honey, I’m sure he’s fine,” Yuna said, putting down a mug of tea in front of Shane. “Today is a lot for him.”

“God, I know Mom,” Shane snapped, glaring at her. “I’ve been through it, I know exactly how he’s feeling.”

“You do, but you also don’t,” Yuna said, sitting down opposite her son. “I know you were in the crash with Ilya. I know you saw terrible things that you won’t ever forget. But honey, Ilya almost died. He had to lay there in that wreckage and he thought that he wasn’t getting out.”

“I know, I was there too.”

“I know you were on that plane. I know you've got nightmares too. I know you've replayed that day a thousand times.”

Shane nodded. “So why are you acting like I don’t understand how he’s feeling?”

“Because you’re trying to understand him through your own pain. You were terrified of losing Ilya. But Ilya… Ilya was terrified of dying. Of losing himself. And he’s going to confront that again today when he gets on the plane.” 

Shane frowned.

“I don’t just mean not dying. Not now. He woke up in a body that wasn’t his anymore. He couldn’t remember what happened to him. Every time he looks at himself in a mirror he’s reminded that he survived something that no one should. That’s going to be at the front of his mind. That it could happen again. That maybe he won’t be so lucky next time.”

“So for him, getting back on a plane means reliving all of that. Ilya isn’t just remembering or mourning the crash,” Yuna said quietly, taking Shane’s hands in her own. “He’s mourning the version of himself who got on that plane. It changed everything for him, Shane. He got on that flight without fear, without knowing that when he got off, he’d never be that person again. Yes, he survived the crash, honey, but he also lost a part of himself in it. And when he gets back on that plane, he’s going to have to say goodbye to that version of himself all over again.”

“He told me that he’d already said goodbye to me in his head, when he was trapped,” Shane said quietly, the words hurting as he said them out loud. “He had to lay there and think that there was no hope. That I was going to walk away from all that without him. I… I don’t want him thinking about ever having to say goodbye to me when he gets on a plane again.”

“Then just be there for him. Hold his hand. All you can do is love him and walk beside him through this, Shane.” Shane looked away, unable to let his mom see him cry. “You can’t take those memories away for Ilya, sweetheart, or for yourself. Neither of you can go back and change what happened to you, what you went through, no matter how badly you want to. And you can’t promise him that he’ll never be afraid of it happening again. Just… make sure he knows that he’s never going to be doing it alone. Let him be frightened without making him feel like he has to hide it from you.”

Ilya returned from his run to see Shane in Yuna’s arms, and wordlessly, he switched places with her, transferring Shane from her arms to his and holding him until Shane felt calmer. They kissed and Ilya took Shane’s hand, pulling him behind him as he walked through the house and into their shower, kissing under the spray as the hours ticked away until the time they were both dreading.

By two o’clock, the Hollander’s house was full of people. Shane, Yuna and David were there for Ilya, but so were Svetlana and Cliff, who had flown together from Boston for just a few hours to be here for Ilya, which had meant the world to him. They were all getting ready to leave when the doorbell rang again, and Shane frowned at Ilya.

“I’ll get that,” Shane called out, but Ilya followed him, having barely left Shane’s side since they’d got out of the shower that morning. He pulled open the door, stunned by the sight of the person standing in front of them. “Oh my god.”

“I- what are you doing here?” Ilya asked, just staring at the petite woman on the other side of the doorframe.

“I heard you were doing something pretty fucking brave today,” she said, smiling at him. “And I thought you might need some support.”

Shane just stood back and watched as his husband stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Jackie Pike, tugging her against him, almost lifting her entirely off the ground.

“I thought Hayden couldn’t make it…”

“He couldn’t,” she shrugged when Ilya eventually put her down, and she gave Shane a quick hug too. “He’s playing tonight. But I got my parents to come and watch the kids so I could come and be here for the both of you. Sorry, I should’ve called-”

“No. Is perfect,” Ilya insisted, looking pale but trying to smile through his nerves. “You have met Cliff? Svetlana?”

“I’ve met Cliff, and Svetlana at the wedding,” Jackie said Ilya dragged her through the house, quickly introducing her to everyone. Shane pulled his phone from his pocket, texting his best friend.

The drive to the airfield was quiet. The group was so large they split into two cars, with David driving Shane and Ilya (after Shane had refused point blank to drive his husband in his McLaren, much to Ilya’s disgust), and Yuna taking Cliff, Svetlana and Jackie in her car. Shane held Ilya’s hand as they walked towards the small plane, and David and Yuna went ahead, greeting Paul with hugs and hand shakes.

“You doing okay?” Ilya didn’t say anything. He didn’t respond at all. “Ilya. Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I am thinking I will die.”

Shane moved so he was standing in front of his husband, tucking two fingers under Ilya’s chin to direct his gaze onto Shane’s face. “I understand that you feel that way. I did, too. But it’s going to be okay. Look, Jackie arrived on a plane this morning. So did Cliff and Sveta. They’re all fine. And we will be too.”

Ilya’s breaths started to come faster, more shallow, and Shane could see that panic was taking over. “I cannot do this.”

“You can. But if you want to turn around and go home, that’s okay too. No one is going to be angry or upset if you can’t do this, Ilya.” Shane cupped Ilya’s cheeks in his hands, kissing him gently before he rested their foreheads together. “Take your time. We have no rush. Paul said we have the airstrip for the afternoon. Nobody is going anywhere, okay?” 

It was almost two hours later that, finally, Ilya looked at Shane and gave him a small nod. None of their group had bothered them at all. They’d stood talking amongst themselves, and only Cliff had approached, handing them each a bottle of water he’d taken from the small hanger to the side of the airstrip before he walked away again.

The married couple walked towards the group of their friends and family, who quickly realised what was happening. Shane nodded to his parents, who climbed up the steps and disappeared into the plane, quickly followed by Jackie and Cliff. Svetlana waited for them at the bottom of the steps and took Ilya’s left hand in her own, heading up the steps with him and Shane.

“Я здесь, с тобой, Илюшка. Всё будет хорошо.” she said, and Shane smiled at her supportive words. [I’m right here with you, Ilyushka. Everything will be fine.]

Ilya paused at the top of the steps, taking some deep breaths, gripping Shane and Svetlana’s hands tightly. Shane stayed right by his side, glancing to his right and smiling gratefully at everyone just waiting patiently for them. David and Yuna were sitting together in the back few seats, and Cliff was next to an open seat, no doubt left for Svetlana. Jackie was beside Yuna, and had a look of concern on her face. 

“You want to sit down?” Shane asked, and Ilya shook his head, gripping Shane’s hand a little more fiercely. “Okay, take your time. There’s no rush.”

It took Ilya another twenty minutes before Shane could coax Ilya further into the plane and into a seat. He’d helped put Ilya’s belt on, and David had come over, quietly asking Shane if they were ready before he disappeared towards the cock pit, talking to his friend. 

Paul came to close the door, and Ilya visibly jumped when it slammed shut, his eyes frantically looking around the cabin of the plane. Shane whispered a few comforting words in Russian to his husband and guided him back in his seat, resting against it. Soon enough, the engines fired up, and Shane thought Ilya was going to break his hand as he squeezed it so hard but he stayed silent, letting Ilya do what he needed. Svetlana kept watch, her and Shane locking gazes occasionally to reassure each other that this was okay, that Ilya could do this.

Then, they were in the air. Ilya’s eyes remained shut, breathing deeply next to Shane, his whole body tight with tension. Shane had fallen silent until Ilya had begged him to keep talking, and he did, talking about anything and everything he could think of. He still didn’t feel entirely comfortable himself in the air, but Ilya needed him right now, and all he could focus on was being there for his husband.

He realised that Ilya was crying as the plane levelled out, and Shane quickly removed his seatbelt, walking in front of Ilya and pulling him into his arms. Ilya’s arms grabbed around Shane like a vice, and Shane watched as Jackie got out of her seat, coming to sit in Shane’s empty one. She stroked Ilya’s arm, telling him how proud she was, how brave he was.

“You did it, beautiful,” Shane said after a while, when Ilya had wiped his tears on the hem of Shane’s shirt. Ilya’s blue eyes found Shane’s, and he gave him a hesitant, wobbly smile.

“I’m so scared,” Ilya admitted, his voice hoarse, like it was an effort to speak.

“I know, but you’re here anyway,” Shane said, feeling unbelievably proud of the strength Ilya was showing right now. Ilya closed his eyes again and leaned forwards, resting his forehead on Shane’s shoulder as he and Jackie shared a look. 

After a while, Ilya opened his eyes again and sat up, looking out of the window. “We are flying.”

Shane smiled through the tears in his own eyes, holding Ilya’s hands again. “We are, baby.”

“I did not think I would ever do this again.” Ilya looked back at Shane. “I am not okay. But I am doing it. I… I want to remember this.”

“Flying?”

Ilya nodded, but then hesitated. “Yes, but also… that I was terrified. So terrified. But I did this anyway.”

“You want to know something?” Jackie asked, and both Shane and Ilya turned to her, nodding together. “The girls… when I told them that I was coming out here to see you both, and to support Uncle Ilya and Uncle Shane getting on a plane again. They looked at me in surprise. Then they said that you were their heroes.”

“Heroes?” Ilya asked, and Jackie just nodded.

“Because they know how scared you were,” Jackie admitted. Shane knew that once Ilya was awake and they knew he was going to live, that both Jackie and Hayden had sat the oldest girls down and explained what had happened, without going into too much detail since the girls were only seven. “But despite that, you did it anyway. They don’t know what happened to you guys, not really. They just know that something happened that hurt you very badly, and that you’re doing something really hard today.”

“I do not feel like hero,” Ilya whispered as a lone tear snaked down his cheek.

“You don’t have to feel like a hero to be one,” Shane replied softly, and Jackie nodded, leaning in to hug Ilya from the side while Shane stayed in front of him.

Ilya’s bottom lip trembled at that, and Shane was certain he was as much of a mess as his husband was. He managed to give Shane a small smile before he turned, looking out of the window again. Shane could see that the fear was still there, that it would be for a long time. But Ilya was here. He was here and holding Shane’s hand, not letting go. Shane could feel his body still trembling, but was so full of pride for the courage Ilya had demonstrated that day.

Ilya asked if it could be over, and David was immediately on his feet, making it known that Ilya was done, that he needed to be back on land. Ilya rocked himself back and forth as the plane began its landing procedure, and Shane could only sit beside him, holding him and reminding him that he was there as they headed back to the ground. Shane watched Ilya’s whole body relax as the wheels hit the tarmac, the plane coming to a slow stop as the brakes were applied. Jackie and Cliff quickly got out of their seats and came hurrying to the front, taking it in turns to hug Ilya tightly. Ilya nodded into Jackie’s shoulder at whatever she was whispering into his ear, his fingers gripping her cardigan tightly.

“You did it,” Shane beamed when Ilya stood up, looking a little shaky and unsure on his feet. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Ilya.” He pulled his husband into a kiss before he let him go, the Russian dazedly going into Cliff’s open arms again. Shane’s heart finally started to slow down and he lowered himself back down into his seat as Ilya chatted quietly with his best friends.

“You okay, hon?” Jackie asked, sinking into the empty seat next to Shane. He just shrugged and leant his head down on her shoulder, sighing softly. “I know this must’ve been just as hard on you today. But you were here for him. That’s not nothing, Shane. That’s love. That’s you being the best husband for Ilya.”

“I don’t feel like the best husband,” Shane mumbled, shaking his head. “I barely held it together, Jackie.” 

Jackie sat quietly for a moment, the two of them glancing to check that Ilya was still okay before they went back to their conversation. Shane wasn’t surprised to see Ilya in the arms of Yuna, holding onto her like he was scared she was going to leave him behind. He was making himself small in that way he did when he needed comfort, when he wanted to feel looked after. Shane was beyond grateful that Yuna could give him what he needed… the hug of a mother who loved him unconditionally.

“Hey, no, enough of that, Shane. You really think being the best husband means never falling apart?”

Shane laughed wryly, shrugging a shoulder. “I mean… it would probably help.”

“No. The best husband is the one who stays, even when he’s scared himself. The one who sits in uncomfortable hospital chairs for hours because his husband shouldn't have to wake up alone. The one who learns medications he can't pronounce, argues with doctors when something doesn't sound right, remembers what Ilya likes to eat when he finally gets an appetite, and somehow still worries he's not doing enough.”

Jackie nudged him gently. 

“You’ve been doing that for the past six months, Shane. You’re exactly what Ilya needs.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Jackie sighed, shifting in her chair until she was facing Shane. “Do you know what I saw today, sweetheart? I saw you being there for Ilya at the expense of your own wellbeing. I saw the way he looked to you for reassurance, to make sure he was safe. I saw you give that to him in spades, because that’s what you are for each other. A safe place. Even when everything is hurting so much.”

Shane just nodded.

“The two of you love each other so fiercely that you both keep thinking you should be able to carry the other's pain. Look, you don’t have to be superhuman to be the husband Ilya needs, Shane. You just have to keep showing up, which is all you’ve been doing. When he was frightened today, he reached for you. Not because you could fix how he was feeling, but because you are home to him. You’re his safe place. You’re the person he trusts over and above everyone else. It takes a lot to trust one person like that. You’re that for Ilya. Be proud you’re that for him.”

“Мой дом,” came a familiar Russian voice, and Shane looked up, seeing his husband looking down at him. Ilya held out his left hand and Shane put his inside, letting Ilya pull him to his feet. “Я тебя люблю. Thank you for doing this with me. I could not do this without you.”

“I wouldn’t ever want to be anywhere else,” Shane said, kissing Ilya softly. “You did amazing today. I don’t know about you but I’m ready to go home.”

Ilya nodded, giving Shane a small smile. “Me too. Want to be home with you, in our bed. Want to feel safe again.”

Later, after they’d eaten dinner with their extended family, Jackie, Cliff and Svetlana had reluctantly said their goodbyes, promising to visit again soon and were now on their way back to their respective homes, to the people waiting for them. Yuna and David had settled down in front of a movie while Shane and Ilya wished them goodnight, disappearing hand in hand to their bedroom. Ilya had pushed Shane gently onto the bed and crawled on top of him, landing heavily on top of Shane.

“Oof. You’re heavy,” Shane complained with a laugh, but really he loved when Ilya laid on him like this. He enjoyed the deep pressure and it relaxed him in ways he didn’t really understand. “You good?”

“I just… I have something to tell you.”

“Oh?”

Ilya looked away for a moment before he met Shane’s eyes again. “Yeah. I was thinking. I am much better. We are healing, Sheynka. I think is time we go home, yes?”

Shane swallowed, not entirely understanding what Ilya was trying to tell him. “Mo-Boston?”

Ilya slowly shook his head. “No. I cannot play, and Boston is not home. Want to go home with you. To Montreal. If you will let me live with you.”

Shane snorted a rather unattractive laugh, only laughing harder when he saw the scandalised look on Ilya’s face. “Are you serious?!”

“We are going to live with your parents forever?”

“No, I just… if I will let you live with me?! Are you fucking kidding me, Ilya-”

“No, Shane, is very serious! I want to be sure!”

“You- want to be-” Shane was full on belly laughing now, and Ilya was getting redder in the face. “You want me to be sure that I want to live with you?”

Ilya just nodded. “Yes, Shane. I am trying to be polite.”

Shane shoved Ilya off him and then clambered on top of him, sitting on his thighs, his hands pressed on Ilya’s chest as he hovered above him.

“You’re a fucking idiot is what you are. You’re literally my husband. I married you a few weeks ago. So yeah, I want to fucking live with you, Ilya. Forever, please.”

Ilya smirked, his hands finding the curve of Shane’s waist. “You want sexy Russian roommate, hmm?”

“I think that you’re more than a roommate, but hey, that sounds fun. I have a few conditions, though.”

“Like what?” Ilya asked, his hands slipping inside the waistband of Shane’s shorts, grabbing his ass.

“Like… I need my roommate to be pretty good in bed,” Shane started, starting to grind down against his husband. “And he has to pick up his fucking socks. I hate when people leave their dirty socks on the floor.”

“I might know someone,” Ilya replied, licking his lips, his pupils blown as Shane continued to grind on him, unsubtle in his want. “Bit stubborn. Has a very sexy accent. Good cook. Hot body. But he does leave socks where they do not belong. How sad.”

Shane snorted. “Well, that sounds suspiciously like you.”

Ilya gave him a wicked grin. “He is so very handsome.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

Ilya leaned up, brushing his nose against Shane’s. “And he loves his husband very, very much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ilya said, his head flopping back to the pillow. “Even when his husband calls him fucking idiot.”

“Well, you were being one! Like I wouldn’t want you to move in with me, come on. You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Ilya said as Shane leaned down, their lips hovering just millimetres away from each other, “you still married me.”

“I did,” Shane replied with a chuckle, “worst decision I ever made.”

“Liar.” Ilya suddenly rolled them again, and Shane was flat on his back, looking up at his husband. Ilya’s hands were pressing Shane’s wrists against the bed, holding him completely down. Shane was right where he wanted to be. “You want divorce?”

“Never,” Shane grinned, hooking his ankles around Ilya’s lower back, holding him in place. “You’re stuck with me.”

And then Ilya kissed him.

One week later

“Gosh, we’re going to miss you two,” Yuna said as David rammed the bag into the trunk of the McLaren P1. The car was so ridiculous that they didn’t have room for hardly any of their things, and Yuna and David had already promised to make the drive to Montreal in a few days to bring up everything they were leaving behind. “It’s going to be quiet without you here.”

“Without Ilya, you mean,” Shane quipped, pulling on his sunglasses. “I’m the quiet son, remember.”

“Is fair,” Ilya shrugged, strutting past Shane as he tapped away at his phone. “I have made driving playlist for us, Shane.”

“Lucky me,” Shane muttered, rolling his eyes but secretly, he loved that the old Ilya seemed to be coming back a little more day by day. He was still working hard at his physical therapy, and had agreed to see a therapist to work through his thoughts and feelings on the past six months, and Shane was beyond proud. He knew that was something Ilya had been working towards feeling okay about, and that booking the first appointment had been a huge deal for him.

“I actually have announcement,” Ilya proclaimed, holding court in the centre of the driveway, the McLaren parked just behind him beside Yuna and David’s far more sensible car. “I had appointment yesterday. With doctors.”

Shane’s face creased in confusion. “What? No you didn’t. You went to the store with Dad.”

“Yes, Shane, but I also ask David to take me to see doctor. They cleared me.”

Shane just froze. “For what exactly?”

Ilya smirked. “To drive. Shane, I can drive us home!”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Shane said, staring hopelessly between his parents, hoping they could rescue him. “Are you serious?”

“Oh yes, very. I got doctor to email confirmation. I knew you would not believe me and make me passenger princess again. See?” He pushed his screen so close to Shane’s face the words were just a blur so Shane took Ilya’s wrist gently, pulling it back until he could make sense of the typed words. “Is best news, yes?”

“I mean, for you I guess,” Shane said, realising that by marrying Ilya, this was exactly the sort of chaos he’d signed himself up to. For the rest of his life, apparently. Good lord. “I could drive Mom’s car, follow you-”

“No, Shane, I want to drive you! For so long, I imagine driving with you, holding your hand. So many times I come to Montreal alone, and wish you could drive back with me. That we could have fun, listen to music, talk for hours. Just us. But we could not, because we were hiding from the world. Now we can do it, Shane. I can drive best wedding present ever with husband by my side. Please, lyubimyy.”

Shane just closed his eyes, tilting his head back. He knew he’d lost when Ilya got romantic like this. “Fine. But we are sticking to speed limits-”

“Yuna, David, has been lovely. Thank you for everything. I love you, but we must go.”

“Ilya!” 

“I cannot wait a moment longer, Shane. Come on!”

“How is this my life now?” Shane lamented as he followed his over-eager husband around the car as Yuna and David laughed, arms around each other as they watched their boys ready to head home together.

“You married me,” Ilya said with a laugh, getting in behind the wheel as Shane opened his own door. Shane got into the passenger seat, grinning at the wide smile on Ilya’s face as he pulled the seatbelt across his own body, roaring the engine because he could.

“Pray for me, Mom!” Shane called out of the window as Ilya began reversing down the drive. Shane tried to repress the flip in his stomach he felt at watching Ilya drive like this, his arm thrown around the seat as he looked out of the back window. “See you both soon, love you!”

“We love you,” called David and Yuna, waving from where they were standing halfway down the driveway. “Drive safely, Ilya!”

“Always!” Ilya yelled as he tooted the horn and pulled away, speeding off down the road and causing Shane to grab the sides of his chair. “This is best day of my life!”

“Better than when you married me?” Shane asked as Ilya indicated, pulling onto the main road.

“Okay, second best day,” Ilya admitted, grabbing Shane’s hand across the centre console. “Let’s go home, Shane.”

“Home,” Shane nodded, grinning at his husband before Ilya revved the car loudly and put his foot down, the engine growling and shooting the car off down the street. “Oh my god, Ilya! Slow the fuck down!”

Ten days later

Shane nudged the door closed with his hips, putting the bags of groceries down on the floor. Ilya’s sneakers were sitting haphazardly on the floor so, clearly, he was back from the gym. Working out was now back as a normal part of Ilya’s day to day routine, and he knew Ilya always felt better when the endorphins from a workout were running a rampage around his body.

Shane called out as he untied his sneakers, putting them neatly on the rack before picking up his husband’s and doing the same. “Ilya? You home?”

“In kitchen! Am making lunch!” Ilya called, and Shane grinned, picking up the bags and hurrying to greet his husband.  He was clearly freshly showered because his curls were wet and the drips of water were soaking into the t-shirt Ilya was wearing. It was hotter than he had any right to look in the ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron David had gifted Ilya last Christmas. 

“Smells good, what are we having?”

“Omelettes,” Ilya replied, leaning in for a quick kiss before Shane started to put the groceries away. “You excited for tonight?”

Shane nodded, but he couldn’t deny he was feeling nervous too. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to be at the Bell Centre, but I just hope… I hope the fans are going to be supportive.”

“You think Hayden and the team would ask you to come if they were not? Shane, the fans love you. And now they love me too. So double love for us both. It will be amazing night. I have missed hockey so much.”

The invitation had come a week ago, and Shane’s nerves had only grown since Hayden’s initial text asking both Shane and Ilya to attend their next home game against The Admirals, which Shane had quickly accepted. He’d asked his parents to come along too to support them, and now the day was almost here, he was getting more nervous. He hadn’t attended any kind of game since the accident, and he knew he and Ilya arriving together would certainly cause a scene. 

“I’m sure when I get there, it’ll be great. I just… I guess I just don’t want anyone talking shit about us.”

“Who cares? I don’t,” Ilya shrugged, sliding half of the omelette onto one plate, handing it over to Shane. He added a splash of tabasco sauce to his own half before plating that and passing Shane his cutlery. “Let’s go eat. I want to watch end of Raiders last game.”

Shane followed Ilya through to the sitting room, and against his usual rules, ate on his lap next to his husband. The Raiders match against the Minnesota Nomads was fast and fierce, and Shane felt a flash of pride as he watched Cliff Marleau captain the team to a 5-3 victory. He could see Ilya felt the same, and as much as he knew Ilya was missing the game, he was also certain that Ilya knew he’d left the Raiders in the safest hands. 

“Cliff is really good,” Shane said as Ilya nodded beside him. “I think he- what the fuck.”

Ilya’s head snapped back up to the television. “What did I miss?”

“No, not that. I just… what is that, Ilya?” He pointed in the direction of the mantel, and saw a terrifying smirk erupt on his husband’s face. “What did you do?”

“Don’t be mad, Shane…”

Those words were like a red rag to a bull, and Shane was immediately on his feet, stalking over to the new picture frame. He picked it up, jaw dropping when he saw what it was.

“Are you serious? You fucking framed a speeding ticket?!”

“Is proudest moment, Shane! Speeding ticket from first roadtrip in my beautiful P1.”

“But… you framed it.”

Ilya nodded slowly. “Yes. I am proud. Was not crazy dangerous speed, you were with me-”

“I remember. I just… you framed it? Like it’s a family photo or something?!”

“Yes, Shane.”

“I was going to ask why you framed it but then I remembered exactly who I married.” Ilya had a stupidly happy smile on his face at that. “This might just be the most you thing that you’ve ever done if I’m honest.”

“And you love me for it,” Ilya grinned, but Shane just laughed, shaking his head.

“I love you in spite of it, actually,” he chuckled, letting Ilya’s arms loop around him, tugging him close. “You’re an idiot but you’re my idiot.”

Ilya held up his right hand, showing off his wedding ring. “I am. You locked this down.”

“Where the fuck did you learn that phrase?!”

“Saw someone’s post about us. About how lucky I am to ‘lock you down’,” Ilya said, kissing Shane quickly. “They are right, moya lyubov.”

“Mine,” Shane grinned, nipping at Ilya’s bottom lip with his teeth, gasping when Ilya pulled his hips flush against Shane’s, his erection already hard. Shane was feeling very grateful they no longer lived with his parents and he didn’t have to try and tame his husband’s libido anymore. “Going to take me to bed and show me how locked down I am?”

Ilya grinned, reaching down and picking Shane up easily, still using his left arm to support most of Shane’s weight. But Shane could feel that his husband was getting stronger every day, and he couldn’t wait until Ilya felt back to full strength.

“Fuck yes,” Ilya all but growled as Shane grabbed him in a filthy, deep kiss. 

The next evening

The din from the sold out crowd in the Bell Arena was almost overwhelming after so long. Shane and Ilya were holding onto each other’s hands like a lifeline, and they were following one of the media team through the corridors that Shane had walked countless times before.  But instead of carrying a kit bag, or wearing his game day suit, Shane was wearing a Metros hoodie and jeans, his husband by his side in his own Raiders hoodie.

“How does it feel to be back?” Ilya asked as they were led through to one of the family viewing boxes. Shane was a little grateful that none of the fans had noticed them coming into the arena just yet, and he sat down, Yuna and David on his left, and Ilya on his right. “Is home, yes?”

“I guess,” Shane admitted, looking out over the many fans already in their seats, wearing Metros jerseys, holding aloft signs proclaiming support. There was a surprising amount of New York Admirals’  jerseys as well, and Shane could admit he was looking forward to seeing Scott Hunter in person before the game.  “It’s weird, being here and not playing. I mean, obviously I’ve been on the bench on the IR list before, but I’m always down there, supporting the guys.”

“If you want to go, we can.”

Shane shook his head. “No, I’m okay.” Shane turned to his parents. “You guys okay if me and Ilya head down to see the boys?”

“Sure, honey, we’ll see you soon,” Yuna said, already making herself comfortable, her Hollander 24 jersey tugged on over the blouse she’d worn to the arena. “Have fun, say hi to everyone for me.”

“Will do,” Shane grinned, grabbing Ilya’s hand and heading outside. Of course, he didn’t need to bother wearing his visitor pass. Everyone in that building knew exactly who he was, and Shane was a little humbled by the amount of congratulations and well wishes he and Ilya were given before they finally reached the locker room.

Ilya hesitated as Shane stepped forward, about to go inside the room when he realised Ilya wasn’t next to him. “You not coming in?”

“Maybe I should wait here.”

“What? No, Ilya, they know we’re both coming. It’s fine. All of that rivalry is in the past, okay?”

“Uh, just check, please?” Ilya asked, and Shane sighed, deciding to indulge his husband for a moment. He walked inside and immediately laughed when the room exploded with calls and cheers, people barrelling into him. 

“Oh my god, let him breathe!” yelled Hayden, and he grabbed Shane’s wrist, tugging him out of the pile of bodies, and straight into Hayden's arms. “So fucking good to see you, man!”

“You too,” Shane said, hugging Hayden back quickly. “Uh, Ilya is outside, he wanted me to check if-”

“Rozanov! Get your ass in here!” yelled J.J., already at the door and pulling a startled looking Ilya inside. Shane met Ilya’s eyes and could see he was so pleased to have been welcomed in so warmly. “You been looking after that husband of yours?”

“Ah, yes,” Ilya confirmed, quickly coming to stand by Shane’s side. “Is my favourite job in the world.”

The players around them continued to get dressed as Shane walked over to his stall, feeling a little nostalgic to see it was still full of his things, that no one had commandeered it in his long absence. He looked at the few small photos he had taped to the side wall before his eyes landed on something new. Amongst the old photos of Shane, his parents, Shane and the PIkes… there was a new photo. One of Shane and Ilya at their wedding, smiling so happily at each other, lost in the moment.

“You like it?” Hayden asked, coming up behind Shane, who just nodded, unable to speak. “Good. I’m glad.”

Shane just turned and hugged Hayden, grateful for the support of his best friend. For so long, he’d watched his fellow players pin up pictures of their partners, pretending it didn’t kill him inside that he couldn’t display Ilya proudly too. Now… now that was over. He and Ilya were married, they were out, and Shane could finally share that love wherever and however he wanted.

“You think so, Cap?” one of the team called out, and it brought Shane back to the present.

He spun around, facing his teammates. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you think we can beat the Admirals tonight,” said Allen, one of the Metros’ defensemen. 

“Course I do,” Shane agreed easily. He wasn’t saying it just because he was a Metro. He knew the team had been playing so strongly lately that it would be a surprise if they lost. Hayden’s captaincy had certainly kept the team on the right track, even if making the playoffs wasn’t possible now. They still had a lot to be proud of. “I didn’t come all the way here to watch you guys lose.”

“You miss it?” asked Harkins, one of the forwards. “Playing, I mean.”

“Yeah, we both do,” Shane said with a shrug, thinking that was a bit of a stupid question. “I’ve been cleared for a while, so I’m hoping to be back at the start of the next season.”

“What about you, Rozanov?”

“Uh, not cleared yet,” Ilya admitted, and Shane stayed quiet, letting Ilya lead the conversation. “My leg is fine, the screws in my bone have healed it. But my arm… is still not good. I have long way to go.”

“Considering where you were at, Roz, you look damn good to me,” Hayden said loudly, and most of the locker room nodded in agreement.

Shane and Ilya fell into easy conversations with Metros then for the next half an hour, chatting away about hockey, their recovery, moving back to Montreal, anything and everything the team could think to ask their Captain. They’d seen Shane and Ilya, of course, but it was nice to spend time in an atmosphere both of them were familiar with.

As the start of the game approached, players finished taping their sticks, and Shane realised they should probably get back to their seats. He quietly chatted to Hayden, agreeing to meet later, but J.J. overheard Shane talking.

“What, you’re leaving?”

“We need to let you guys get ready-”

“No, wait,” Drapeau said, looking between the two visitors in the room. “You’re our Captain. We want a speech.”

Shane looked helplessly at Ilya, who  just shrugged with a smile on his face. “I… I haven’t prepared anything.”

“You don’t need to. You never did before,” Hayden said, sitting back down in his own stall, much like he had for all the years he’d deferred to Shane as his Captain. “Floors all yours, Cap.”

“I will wait outside,” Ilya whispered, kissing Shane’s temple before he disappeared out of the door, not giving Shane a moment to protest. 

It felt strange, having so many pairs of eyes on him. It was even stranger that before, this had been normal. All of these men looked to him as a leader, and he’d done it as easily as breathing. Never had Shane felt the obvious difference between the before and after the accident than he did in that moment. He felt like an imposter… it had been six months since he’d last done this. Six months since he’d last looked around this circle of men and known exactly what to say. 

Shane rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, letting out a quiet laugh that held more nerves than amusement.

“I guess..." He glanced around the room, meeting faces that had become so painfully familiar again over the past few months. "I guess it's good to know some things don't change. You lot are still impossible to say no to."