Summary:

“Fuck it,” He mutters in Russian before just pressing his thumb down onto the phone next to Hollander’s contact. Ilya puts it onto speaker, listening to just up to the first half of the second ring before pressing the big red button, not letting it go on any longer. Fuck. He drops his phone and presses the palms of both of his hands to his eyes, trying to stabilize himself. Ring. His heart practically jumps out of his chest when he hears the sound coming from his phone. He looks down at where it’s sitting on the bed, the screen reads “Jane." Fuck. Out of panic, Ilya declines the call but quickly makes his way to his messages app, finding Hollander’s contact and typing out a quick few messages back to back. Ilya: did not mean to call. Ilya: was accident Ilya: no need for call back Ilya takes a deep breath and sets his phone back down only to be met with an immediate response from Hollander. * OR, 5 times Ilya had a nightmare & called Shane + the 1 time Shane was there to comfort him in person