Summary:

“Hollander, you are stupid idiot,” Ilya says, his fists clenching in his jacket pockets as Shane stares at him from the hospital bed with that loopy smile on his face. “What do you mean?” Shane asks, his voice airy and light, though Ilya picks up a hint of concern. Ilya closes his eyes and inhales deeply. “You take your eyes off of puck, you look back at me.” OR A retelling of the hospital scene.