61 – 74 of 74 Works in Major Character Injury
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Ilya Rozanov burned, until the moment Shane Hollander’s body hit the ice. Shane’s accident scares Ilya in ways he didn’t think possible, and he’s forced to confront just how deeply in love he really is.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 17,422
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76338756
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When Ilya gets injured while swimming in the lake, Shane scrambles to save him from drowning. ("We all get our bell rung, eventually." -Shane Hollander) It was a less than perfect day at the lake. A gray day—little sun. But Shane Hollander was overflowing with light. He felt it on his cheeks, all over his skin, in his bones. He couldn’t stop smiling with it. The cottage itself seemed to glow with a living aura. The night before he was looking into his longtime lover’s eyes when he said—twice in Russian, and then once in English—“I love you.” Shane said it back. And his world shifted like tectonic plates. No day would ever truly be gray again. Ilya Rozanov stood on top of the large, slanted rock on which Shane sat. “Don’t dive into the water, you idiot. It’s shallow here—up to your waist.” Ilya ruffled Shane’s slate-black hair. “I do little jump,” Rozanov said. “Barely dive. Closer to —what do you say—eh, belly flop.” Shane rolled his eyes as he carefully rearranged his hair. “You’re going to belly flop into cold water with bruised ribs?” Ilya winced and wrinkled his nose at the thought. “You dive in there and you’re going to sprain your wrists on the bottom before your feet hit the water,” Hollander warned. “Fine!” Ilya made a show of putting his hands behind his back by stretching his long arms up and around. He clasped his own fingers together and stared down at Hollander. “No arms. Half belly flap, half dive. Yes? Approved?” The fondness for Ilya that glowed in Shane’s heart warmed. “Fine!” he said, pronouncing the word with a Russian accent, speaking it the same way Ilya had a moment ago. “But there’s a downed tree down there so aim to the—” Ilya rotated to the right and dove nose-first over Shane’s knees. “—left.” Shane gulped. Ilya disappeared into the water—all six feet of him—and Shane sighed. He looked around, taking a moment to ingest the view. The hockey captain took in the trees, the horizon on the water, the sky. All beautiful, he concluded. But not as beautiful as Ilya Rozanov’s body in those swimming trunks. That was his favorite view of all. Shane looked down at the spot in the water where Ilya had disappeared, and curled his hands into fists when he realized that a whole half minute had passed. How long could his lover hold his breath? Shane didn’t know. “Rozanov?” he called to the silent lake. “Ilya!” The clouds shifted then. Shane concluded that an entire minute had passed. Sunlight through the trees illuminated the colors of the water—blue, black, teal, green... And red. “FUCK,” Shane gasped at the sight of the blood. He eased himself into the water and started swimming as fast as he could. His leg bumped something solid. Shane took a deep breath and dropped underwater, eyes open. Arms paddling, fingers reaching, mostly blind, Shane felt around for the solid object. Fingers found the underwater tree, first, but then he found something hard that felt like skin, and he pulled. Shane summoned all of his strength and swam for the surface. He emerged gasping, holding the limp, unmoving body in a bridal carry. Rozanov’s head lolled against Shane’s bicep— eyes shut, mouth open. “Ilya!” Hollander shouted at him. “ILYA!” When not even an eyelid flinched, he swore again and stomped toward the shore. Shane had never heard his own heart beating. But it was thundering in his ears when he gently laid Ilya’s waterlogged body down on the grass. Rozanov’s skin was corpse-colored except for the massive gash at his hairline that was leaking blood. “Dammit!” Shane shouted, voice cracking, when water leaked from Rozanov’s blue-tinted lips. He rolled him onto his side and watched several cups of water stream from his mouth. Then Shane knelt, pressed his ear to Ilya’s lips, and both listened and felt for his breathing. Nothing. No inhale. No exhale. Tears erupted from Shane’s dark eyes. He pressed two fingers against the pulse point on Ilya’s throat. He found it. Ilya had a pulse. But Shane was certain his heart was beating too slow—the sensation shallow under the white skin. Shane’s eyes were so soaked with tears that everything went funhouse mirror blurry. He rolled Ilya onto his back, squeezed his nostrils shut, and blew air into his lungs. Again. Again and again and again. Over and over he breathed breath into his lover. In the distance, a loon called—mocking, almost. “Please,” Shane said against Ilya’s lips. “Wake up, you asshole! Please!” Shane pulled back and looked down at Ilya’s slack face. “Ilya,” he begged. “ILYA!” Then, with all his strength, Shane pushed down on Ilya’s stomach. Water, vomit, and who knew what else erupted from Ilya’s stomach and chest. A cough followed it—then another. After three more, Ilya’s eyes burst open and he went into a coughing fit that Shane had no doubt killed his already bruised ribs. Shane lifted Ilya’s body, then. Lifted him up into his arms so that he was almost sitting. Shane held him while he coughed—didn’t care about the blood slowly soaking his swimming trunks or the vomit under his knees. Ilya’s wide eyes found Shane’s and refused to look away. Shane whispered into Ilya’s ear, “I’m here, I’ve got you, just breathe, you’re ok—you’re ok—you’re ok.” The blood flow didn’t stop, but the coughing eventually did. “Shane,” Ilya wheezed. “S- Sorry…” “Shhh,” Hollander soothed. “You hit your head. You’re bleeding bad. I have to get you to the hospital—can you stand?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,707
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76486586
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Weirdo in the Hoodie by orphan_account
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-25
JJ patted Hayden on the back when the video sprung from the collision to Hayden's punches. Honestly he was pretty impressed with himself. He was able to get a few good swings at Marlow in before the refs separated them- but that wasn’t important right now. He could feel good about it after he knew Shane was okay. Besides, for some reason Hayden wasn’t focused on his form while punching. He didn't even notice the rest of his teammates' fighting for Shanes honor. For some reason his gaze lingered on Rozanov. Rozanov who looked pained at Shane crumpling. Rozanov who seemed scared for his rival. Rozanov who wore his heart on his sleeve while skating up to Shane. Did Hayden get punched so hard he started seeing things? - Or, Hayden starts putting together the puzzle of Ilya Rozanov while on his way to the hospital to visit Shane. Too bad he has no idea that Shane Hollander is also a part of this puzzle.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,925
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76297526
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Don't Poke the Bear by meetmebythelilactree
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-24
PS: Prompt is related to the events of The Long Game, so there will be spoilers for the plot of that book! _______ After Shane and Ilya are outed in the events of The Long Game, Montréal and Ottawa play seven games against each other in the Eastern Conference. The Centaurs still love their captain, of course. The Voyageurs, however, are not so united. _______ A.K.A - Five times Shane’s team was an asshole to him, the one time Ilya got to do something about it, and the obvious humiliation ritual that is the Centaurs playing a game against a post-Hollander era Voyageurs.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,361
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76353296
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Even Ilya fucking Rozanov was going to know Shane was okay before the girl Shane had been seeing for years. Hayden couldn’t let that happen. So he lifted Shane’s phone again, scrolled through his contacts, and found Lily’s name. The line began to ring. Rozanov stiffened where he stood at the hospital counter, then he pulled out his phone. Weird. or High on pain meds after his injury, Shane entrusts his phone to Hayden to answer his texts and tell everyone he's okay. Hayden realizes that no one else would have called Lily, because no one else knows she even exists.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,948
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76348856
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A misunderstanding, old insecurities, and one badly timed coffee leave cracks in Shane and Ilya’s marriage just as the Centaurs take the ice against Montreal. When a sudden injury forces everything into sharp focus, love has to speak louder than pride.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,891
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76235106
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we all need a friend sometimes by cityofdownwardspirals
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
Svetlana has seen enough hockey injuries happening in real time to recognize a bad one. After the way Cliff Marlow collided with Shane Hollander, she is not surprised to see that the former needs to be taken off the ice by paramedics. What she is surprised by, however, is the look on Ilya’s face when it happens. Suddenly, a lot of different things start to make sense. OR: How Svetlana figures it out and doesn't let Ilya be alone while he worries about Shane.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,305
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76279346
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Alternate scenes in the hospital following the hit in s1e5. The last thing Shane Hollander felt before Marlow slammed into him wasn’t fear. He never saw Marlow coming. The last thing Shane felt was confusion. One moment, he had the puck, confident, cocky even, and he stole a glance across the ice. From under his shield, he met Ilya’s gaze, and smirked. Ilya returned his smirk with a half-grin of his own, competitive, but Shane didn’t have time to revel in the reaction. Ilya’s face transformed in a fraction of a second, his eyes growing wide, his mouth half-open, maybe in surprise, maybe in a desperate attempt to shout a warning, a look Shane Hollander had never before seen on the face of Ilya Rosanov. Terror. — The ringing in Shane’s ears was deafening, all of his other senses dulled, his world enveloped in darkness. He swam aimlessly through the darkness, with nothing but the sound of the ringing, trying to decipher up from down. He thought he heard someone say his name, and tried to concentrate, bringing the sound of the voice forward through the ringing. “Shane! Open your eyes!” he heard, louder this time. “Come on. Wake up!” Before he could think or respond, he felt a grinding pressure in the middle of his chest, and groaned. He cracked his eyes open, the bright lights from the arena ceiling sending shooting pain through his head, and immediately squeezed them shut again. His helmet was gone, and he could feel the cold sting of the ice on the back of his head. “Nope, there you go, stay awake, Shane,” the voice said again. The grinding pressure assaulted his senses once more, the medic pushing a fist into his sternum beneath his heavy pads. He groaned again, his limbs feeling heavy and uncoordinated as he struggled to move to push the person away. “Hollander!” he heard from further away, this voice different, familiar, distinct from the ringing. His senses sharpened. He tried opening his eyes again, squinting against the lights. “Mmokay…” he mumbled incoherently, and tried to turn, searching desperately for the man he knew was calling his name. “No, Shane, don’t move,” the medic above him said sternly, putting both hands on the sides of his head and keeping his face pointed toward the ceiling. He squeezed his eyes shut again and groaned as another pair of hands slid a collar behind his head and secured it around his neck. He tried to concentrate, tried to put all of the pieces together – the arena lights above him, the ringing in his ears, the medics, the cold ice beneath him, Rosanov’s concerned voice. There must’ve been an accident. “Hold still, Shane. We’ve got you,” he heard, more loudly this time, the ringing finally starting to subside a little. He felt multiple people grip him at once, rolling him to the side. He winced and grit his teeth hard as they rolled him back again, onto a board. He listened. “Is he okay? Fucking tell me!” It was more aggressive this time, with a distinctly panicked undertone Shane had never heard from the man before. “Get back to your bench, Rosanov!” someone yelled back. Shane fought to open his eyes again, scanning from left to right as best he could, desperate to catch a glimpse of the panicked Russian, to reassure him, to settle at least a little piece of the emotional turmoil he knew the man was enduring. A medic tugged the glove from his right hand, and he groaned, pain shooting through his shoulder as they secured his arms across his chest. Nausea rushed through him in a wave and his vision swam, dark spots dancing in front of him, as the medics rolled him swiftly off the ice and down the corridor toward the waiting ambulance. “Stay awake, Shane. Keep those eyes open,” they baggered him. “My parents…” Shane mumbled quietly. “Your coach is calling your parents,” the medic answered him. “Tell him I’m okay,” Shane adds. “He’ll worry.” “Who?” he hears the medic ask, the ringing getting louder again. “Ilya…” Shane whispers, letting the darkness envelop him again. — The next time Shane regains consciousness, his senses all hit at once. The bright lights, the beeps and drips and shorthand speak of dozens of people, the sharp scent, the distinct feeling of cold air on dried sweat, and most importantly, the pain. “You’re okay, Shane,” a man in scrubs says, mercifully holding up a hand to shield Shane’s eyes from the lights as he looks down at him. “Do you know where you are?” “Hospital?” Shane guesses. “Good job,” he smiles. “Do you remember what happened?” Shane grits his teeth and uses his left hand to try to fumble toward his right shoulder.. “Whoa, buddy, hang on,” the doctor says, grabbing Shane’s left hand and guiding it away again, placing it back on the table. “Do you remember what happened?” Shane tries to shake his head and a lightning bolt of pain shoots down his spine from behind his eyes. He squeezes them shut, suddenly aware of the collar still around his neck. “Relax,” the doctor tells him. “Take some deep breaths.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,691
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76284796
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What the Ice Takes First by RimsHiddenQuill
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-22
Shane Hollander has built his life on control — of his body, his instincts, his silence. As a secret omega in a league that still punishes vulnerability, secrecy is survival. Loving Ilya Rosanov has always been the one thing he’s never learned how to do safely. When a brutal on-ice collision during a rivalry game leaves Shane fighting for his life, the careful balance holding his world together begins to fracture. Under stadium lights and thousands of watching eyes — including his parents — pain, fear, and unspoken love collide. And Ilya, furious and terrified, is forced to stand helplessly close while the truth remains buried. Some things break loudly. Some break quietly. And some are never said at all. Or, one brutal hit forces Shane to stop hiding and start feeling.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 23,887
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75991531
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hit me where it hurts by residentrookie
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-15
Ilya takes a nasty hit on the ice, but it's nothing he hasn't brushed off before. Or at least, that's what he thought. Off the ice, Shane finds himself overwhelmed with the unexpected complications of Ilya's injury.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,436
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75783741
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Walk Away by multifaulty (Ravenclaws_owl)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-14
Shane dialed. It rang… and rang… and rang again. With each passing ring the pit gnawing its way through Shane's stomach was growing. Just as he felt like it was about to stop ringing and go to voicemail, it picked up. Shane breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, I was getting worried. Where are you?” There was an unsettling beat of silence before someone answered, “Hollander?” It was not Ilya’s voice. Shane’s stomach dropped. He did his best to keep his voice steady as he answered. “Yeah? Uh, who is this? Can you give Ilya back his phone please?” Another beat of silence. “Hollander… God, um, something’s happened-” After the events of The Long Game, Shane and Ilya play their first All-Star Weekend. Things are going great, until they go truly and horribly sideways. Ilya is left hospitalized following an attack off the ice, and Shane is left to pick up the pieces and wonder why.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,529
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75615521
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The words start spilling out faster than he can think them, a desperate spew of apologies and half-explanations through ragged gasps, vision blurry at the edges. “I swear, I didn’t know. I would have told you, I wouldn’t have—” Shane cuts himself off with a sob. “With my suppressants, I shouldn’t even be able to get—” “You are pregnant,” Ilya says, his dark eyes unreadable. Shane just closes his eyes. “I was.” An alternate version of Shane's accident on the ice.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,065
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75707846
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”I need my laptop. For the transfer.” He finally says. ”It’s in the top drawer next to the fridge. I don’t think I can walk right now.” The second the man has his back turned, Shane is turning around and fumbling with the key in the patio door and finally, it turns. He’s able to push the door open and he doesn’t look back as he starts running as fast as he can while being injured. or, Shane is attacked while home alone
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,933
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75525151
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When an accident on the ice leaves Shane fighting for his life, Ilya tries to keep it together when facing the prospect of losing the love of his life before they got the chance to really live. Shane had been hit with a puck before, usually brushing it off with the knowledge that he would be sporting a hell of a bruise for a while. Which was why it felt so strange to him that he couldn’t hear Hayden talking to him after taking a slapshot to the center of his chest. He tried to reassure his friend that he was okay, but the world turned off instead. Ilya couldn’t breathe. It was one of the few times in the game that he was on the bench, without being in the penalty box, and he had seen the puck collide into his boyfriend’s chest. He had winced in sympathy, but had been too concerned. That changed when Hollander had wobbled, then collapsed to the ice without doing anything to stop his fall. Hayden’s lunge forward was the only thing that stopped Shane’s face from slamming into the ice. Out of the corner of his eye, Ilya saw the medics starting to head for the ice, and everything started spinning when Hayden started doing chest compressions with panic on his face. “Folks, please stay in your seats to keep all aisles clear for the medics.” Came over the loudspeaker as Ilya tried to fight against Troy’s restraining arms. They both knew the request to keep the aisles clear meant a catastrophic injury. Hayden was being pushed away by one of the refs, giving the medics room to work, and the other man sent a horrified look at the benches that Ilya knew was for him. Ilya couldn’t have stopped the sob that left him if he had wanted to when a medic cut Hollander’s jersey open, followed by the shoulder pads that had done little to protect his chest. Thankfully for their secret, no one in the now silent area seemed to care or be doing much better. Pads for the shock-thing that Ilya could never remember the name of were slapped on Hollander’s bare chest, and everyone in the stands and benches waited with bated breath as it spoke. Ilya gave up pretending to be okay when the machine recommended a shock, and dropped his head into his folded arms on the half wall separating them from the ice. He could feel Troy rubbing his back, and only lifted his head high enough to see when a medic yelled clear. A whimper left him as the love of his life jerked on the ice, and he sobbed openly when he heard another medic report that there was a heartbeat. Things moved even faster after that. “Looks like the medics are getting ready to move Hollander off the ice, so we ask everyone to remain in their seats. We are getting information that the rest of the game is going to be postponed and rescheduled to a later date. The current score and stats will be carried over.” The Centaur's coach started herding the players from the bench and into the locker room, but Ilya refused to move from his seat, his eyes glued to his boyfriend's still form. Weibe finally made his way over to gently grab onto the back of Ilya’s neck. “The sooner we get you changed, the sooner you can get to him.” Weibe whispered, giving his neck a paternal squeeze despite barely being old enough to be Ilya’s father. By that time, the medics were moving Shane off the ice, so Ilya gave in to the advice and left the bench. They hadn’t meant to come out the entire Centaurs roster, but they had decided to show up unannounced at Ilya’s Ottawa home while the couple was in the shower. It was too difficult to explain away, so they went with the truth and were pleasantly surprised when it was relatively well received. None of them had cared that they were interested in men, though coming to grips with the fact that the two biggest rivals in the NHL were a committed couple took a little longer. It had been a huge relief to both Shane and Ilya in different ways. For Ilya, it meant a place where he didn’t have to hide how much he loved his boyfriend, and for Shane, it was hope that things might not be that bad once they went public. The only change was the teasing Rozanov got about using the rivalry as flirtation and foreplay. He’d never been more thankful for the unintentional outing than that moment. The moment he walked through the locker room doors, hands were there to help strip him out of his gear. He followed their instructions on autopilot, too numb with fear to do anything else. It took less than five minutes to have him stripped, pushed into the shower, dried off, and dressed. When he was pushed out of the locker room with well-wishes and assurances that they would meet him at the hospital as soon as they could, David Hollander was waiting for him. “I didn’t think you’d be in any shape to drive.” Shane’s father told him, taking Ilya’s keys from limp hands. “Are you?” Ilya found himself asking quietly. “Not really, but I can pretend for a bit.” David admitted, and Rozanov followed him silently out to the parking lot. He was a little surprised Yuna wasn’t there, but assumed that she had gone in the ambulance with her son. The Russian was thankful he had driven his sensible car to the game, since he wasn’t sure either one could drive a high-performance sports car in their state, and spent the drive to the hospital in near silence. He gripped onto his mother’s crucifix hard, muttering prayers in Russian that he had never claimed to believe in. Begging not to lose Shane like he had lost his mother. “What happened?” He finally asked, breaking the silence. “His heart…fine before.” English was being difficult as his mind raced in panicked circles, forgetting words other than those in his native language. His accent was more pronounced as well, and he felt like that seventeen- year-old visiting Canada for the first time nearly a decade ago. “We don’t know.” David admitted, nearly as softly. It made Ilya fight back terrified tears. “His heart stopped, we know that, just not why. But it was beating normally when they got him to the ambulance.” It was something. Knowing that Shane’s heart was beating again made it feel like Ilya could breathe again. They pulled into the first parking spot they saw and both rushed out of the car. David was through the door immediately, but Ilya hesitated. As long as he was outside, as long as no one told him that something had gone wrong, his Hollander was fine. He was alive. He could still love Ilya back. Yuna walking out ruined the pretense, and he braced himself for bad news. “Shane’s okay, Ilya. He’s fine and starting to wake up.” She told the young man she had started to claim as her own. The relief that flowed through Rozanov made his knees shake, and he had to force himself to stay upright so Yuna could get him inside. She walked him past the check-in desk, and Ilya realized that meant that Shane was already in a room. “Hey.” Shane said with a tired smile when he saw Ilya, who immediately made his way to the bed and gently rested his forehead against the other man’s. “Never do that to me again, Hollander.” He murmured in Russian, which had Shane reaching up to cup the back of Ilya’s head to keep him there for a moment.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,904
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75111616
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