1 – 1 of 1 Work in Traumatized Hayden Pike

  • Traumatized Hayden Pike ×

  1. The Phone Call by

    Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
    • M
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    2026-01-15

    “I’m fine,” Hayden snapped, voice cracking just a little. “You’re on drugs. You’re confused. Let’s maybe not talk about your... your marital activities.” He looked away from the man, finding the floor much more intriguing. “But it’s true! And you’ve heard them before.” The Russian explained, and Hayden paused. “No. I didn’t. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Ilya smiled. And Hayden groaned; it was one of those cocky smiles that he had whenever he was about to be an asshole. Which was always. Or Ilya gets sent to the hospital after he collapses. Now, all drugged up, he starts explaining to Hayden what happened during the phone call when he and Shane were at the cottage. Hayden sat on the chair watching Rozanov, contemplating every life decision he had ever made. Why did he agree to come with Shane to the hospital again? Oh, right, cause he’s a supportive friend and loves Shane. Rozanov’s chest rose and fell with his breaths. The man was still unconscious, the drugs they gave him knocking him out. Shane had to run home to get a couple of things and left Hayden all by himself. He had asked him to watch over Ilya in case he woke up, because he didn’t want his husband to be left alone. And now Hayden had to suffer through watching Rozanov. Though as long as he remained asleep, Hayden would be fine with it. Of course, Rozanov did not care for his comfort. Hayden had just started to relax, or as much as he could relax in a plastic chair that seemed designed to punish the human spine, when the steady rhythm of Rozanov’s breathing stammered. Hayden straightened instantly. “No,” he muttered under his breath. “Absolutely not.” Rozanov’s brow furrowed, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. His fingers twitched against the sheets. Once. Twice. Hayden leaned forward despite himself, eyes fixed on the bed. He told himself this was his responsibility. That Shane had trusted him with this. That if Rozanov woke up and tried to rip out his IV or start a fight with the heart monitor, it would technically be Hayden’s fault. His eyelids fluttered. Hayden groaned softly and scrubbed a hand down his face. “You have got to be kidding me.” Rozanov’s eyes opened, slow, unfocused, glassy with medication. For a long moment, he just stared at the ceiling, breathing shallow and uneven, like the air itself was an inconvenience. Then his gaze shifted. And landed on Hayden. Rozanov squinted, clearly trying to piece together reality. He then slowly moved his head away from Hayden and around the room. “Where is… Shane?” “Gone,” Hayden said. Then, because he wasn’t a monster - because he saw the hurt appear on Rozanov’s face and he didn’t want to see that expression on anyone’s face, even if he was Rozanov, he added. “Home. He’ll be back.” Rozanov’s face relaxed slightly, even though his body remained stiff. His fingers curled in the sheets again, knuckles whitening. “You stayed.” “He left me here,” Hayden corrected. “Against my will.” That earned him a faint huff of breath that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t sounded so painful. Rozanov closed his eyes for a second, regaining his composure. As much as he could in his highly medicated state. “You look,” Rozanov murmured, “miserable.” “Thank you,” Hayden said. “I’ve been working on that.” Another silence stretched between them. The machines filled it, beeping steadily, unbothered by the tension coiling in the room. Hayden shifted in his chair, suddenly aware of how close the bed was, how fragile Rozanov looked despite everything he knew about the man. Rozanov swallowed. “I don’t remember… coming here,” he admitted. “You collapsed on the ice,” Hayden said before he could stop himself. “Scared the hell out of Shane.” Rozanov’s eyes flicked back to him, something raw and unsettled flashing across his face before he masked it. He stared at the ceiling again, jaw clenched, like he could will himself back into unconsciousness. He remembered the sudden collapse of Rozanov. Montreal and Ottawa were playing against each other, and as soon as Ilya’s body collided with the ice, Shane became an absolute mess. Thankfully, Rozanov fainted towards the end of the third period; otherwise, Hayden was sure, the paramedics would have had to deal with two hockey players in need of medical assistance with Shane’s impending panic attack. Hayden exhaled slowly. Great. Wide awake. Alone together. This was going to be a long wait. “I want Shane,” Rozanov complained. Hayden sighed. “He’ll be here soon. He just needed to go grab some of your things.” Hayden explained again. He knew Rozanov was medicated, but he really didn’t want to keep repeating himself for the entirety of Shane’s absence. “But why couldn’t he go later?” Ilya whined. Hayden resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Somehow, this particular brand of Rozanov chaos was… almost amusing. He had half a mind to take out his phone and record him, just to spite him afterwards. “Because we didn’t expect you’d wake up already. He thought he’d come back to you still asleep.” Ilya frowned, as if Hayden had just told him the world’s greatest injustice. “But Shane is supposed to be here when I wake up.” “I know,” Hayden said, through gritted teeth. “He will be. Soon.” Ilya stared at the ceiling for a moment, then turned his head again, eyes unfocused. “He usually is.” Hayden paused, unsure where this was going. And kinda scared. Rozanov on a normal day was an ass, Rozanov high on drugs… “Usually is what?” “Here, when I wake up,” Ilya clarified. “Or when I fall asleep. Or in between.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Especially in between.” A lopsided smile appeared on his face, his eyes closing as if he had lost himself in a memory. Hayden felt something cold settle in his spine. He had a bad feeling about where this was going. “Okay,” he said quickly. “We don’t need to-“ “Because we have sex,” Ilya said, plainly. Hayden choked on absolutely nothing. “Yep. There it is.” He said, mortified, and then muttered. “I’m gonna kill Shane.” Ilya blinked at him,

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