Summary:

“You are offending an invalid.” “You’re not an invalid,” Shane replies, slight exasperation bleeding into his voice. There’s probably panic in it, too. He elects not to think about it. “You’ll be fine. You’ll go to rehab, you’ll play, and the plan will stay intact. Okay? Charity, Ottawa, and us.” “Charity, Ottawa, and us,” Ilya repeats dutifully, head lolling on the pillow so he can get a better look at Shane’s face. The repetition soothes something in him. They are words that Shane has repeated enough that the edges have been smoothed into something blunt. Charity, Ottawa, and us. “Sit, Shane.” or: early into the year where they both still play for their respective teams, ilya suffers a crash on the ice