Summary:

Shane had been looking at Ilya. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, like a pinball in his head, banging from corner to corner, and he couldn’t slow it down, even as he tried to focus on the game still taking place in front of him. “Rozanov!” he heard his name distantly. He was staring at the place where Shane had been, unconscious on the ice. He saw him when he closed his eyes, his crumpled figure, his stick clattering away from him. Him looking back at Ilya, not seeing Marly coming. Time slowing down, Ilya being too slow. He couldn’t get to him, couldn’t make a noise. He could only watch, watch the collision, watch Shane hit the ice like a ton of bricks. Or, Shane is looking at Ilya when he gets injured. And all Ilya can do is feel guilty.