Summary:

His outstretched glove hangs there, frozen, as the noise of the arena mutates into a ringing buzz. Then he’s moving, pushed away by Marlow, and then Boston’s goalie. There’s a flurry of movement, a trainer with a towel, more blood dripping onto the ice, and he just. Stands there. Staring.

Ilya is helped off the ice. Shane doesn’t even tap his stick.

Remember when Sidney Crosby caught a puck with his jaw? That doesn't happen to Shane. That happens to Ilya.