Chapter Text
*****
It happened on a Tuesday night. Shane and Ilya were home, snuggling on the couch, Ilya’s head in Shane’s lap. Ilya was fighting to stay awake, watching The Great British Baking Show. Shane was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, hoodie string in his mouth, like always, his other hand gently stroking through Ilya’s curls.
It had been a tough game tonight and both of them were wiped. Ilya had taken a particularly bad hit, but had been cleared to finish the game. Shane was glad they could be home together now, resting and enjoying each other’s company.
Sometimes, in moments like this, Shane remembered how hard they had fought to get here. Years of separation, sneaking around, being publicly outed, anxiety, depression, and more bullshit from the sport they dedicated their lives to than would ever be fair.
“Shane, something is wrong,” Ilya said, “I cannot see.”
Shane leaned forward slightly, noticing Ilya’s eyes were heavy and mostly closed. “That’s because your eyes are closed, weirdo. Maybe we should get you to bed.” He said with a small chuckle. His husband was so dramatic sometimes.
“No Shane, something is wrong. My brain – it can not –” Ilya said, his words beginning to slur.
Shane felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Ilya? What do you mean?” he looked down at Ilya.
“Shane, please.” Ilya was pale and clammy. Fuck, Shane thought, quickly dialing for Terry, the team doctor.
Terry answered on the second ring, barely making a noise before Shane launched into an explanation.
“Something’s wrong with Ilya – he – he – he can’t see and his skin is pale and – and – his words are all slurred – and something is wrong, Terry!”
“Shane, slow down. Where are you right now?”
“My house – our house,” he corrected, “In the living room.” He could hear Terry saying something away from the microphone.
“Okay Shane, I need you to try to remain as calm as you can. We’ve dialed emergency services and they’re on the way. They’ll be able to help Ilya better than you and I can right now. Is Ilya awake right now? Is he having trouble breathing?”
“He’s – um, baby?” Shane said, gently rubbing Ilya’s shoulder. Ilya let out a quiet groan, but didn’t open his eyes. “Ilya’s breathing but his eyes, his eyes are closed.” Shane stammered out.
“Okay Shane, emergency services are five minutes out. Are you able to get to the door to unlock it for them? And if you have pets, can you put them in another room?”
“Y-yes, Anya, I can, um, and then I’ll, um, okay.” Shane very gently stood, moving Ilya’s head from his lap to a pillow on the couch. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” He said to Ilya, quickly moving to unlock the front door, calling for Anya the whole time. Anya was right on his heels, seeming confused and stressed, but obedient as always. “Good girl, Anya” Shane said, scooping her up and taking her to Ilya’s office on the main floor. “I know you don’t like it, but you’ll be safe in here.” He double checked her extra water bowl was full, then closed the door, leaving Anya inside. Shane sprinted back to the living room, scooping his phone off the arm of the couch where he left it.
“Shane, are you still there?” Terry said.
“Yeah, yeah I’m here.” Shane said, feeling a little breathless. “The door is unlocked now.”
Ilya somehow looked paler than before. Shane felt like he couldn't breathe. His whole life, his whole world, was lying on this couch, and Shane was helpless.
“Shane, the paramedics are walking up to your door now.”
Shane dropped the phone on the ground, immediately running back to the door to let the paramedics in. They entered in a flurry, four of them squeezing through the door and following Shane to the living room where Ilya still lay on the couch.
Shane’s ears were ringing. None of this felt real. Three of the paramedics were working on Ilya, one of them stood in front of Shane, asking questions Shane could hardly make out. He did his best to answer all of them. Ilya was knocked down at the game, the doctors had checked him for a concussion and decided he was okay to go back to the game, they came home and were resting and suddenly – suddenly everything was not okay.
*****
Almost as soon as they arrived at the hospital, Ilya was rolled away into a trauma room and Shane was left standing alone in the ER. He stood still as nurses and doctors and staff all moved around him, their own patients and people to care for.
“Mr. Hollander-Rozanov?” a woman near him asked. Shane turned to face her. “I have a waiting area I can take you to. We’ve curtained it off for privacy.” Shane just nodded and followed behind her. It was a small area with a chair, a stool, and a curtain pulled fully around it.
“Sorry it’s not much,” the worker said, “but we’ll make sure nobody bothers you.”
“Wait –” Shane interrupted, “My parents,” he patted around his pant legs and hoodie. His phone! He must have left it at the house. “Shit – I – my phone.”
“It’s alright,” the hospital worker said. “We have a phone you can use. Do you need help making a call?”
“No, I – just the phone, if you can.”
“Absolutely. Just hang in there, okay? I’ll be back with the phone and any updates as soon as I can.” Shane just nodded, and the woman left. Shane was alone again. He was numb and tired and worried and lost.
Shane sat and spiraled until the curtain opened again. He looked up, expecting to see the hospital worker again, but instead it was his mom. “Terry called us,” she said. All the tears he had been holding back burst out of him all at once, in loud, choking sobs. “Oh sweetie,” Yuna said, sweeping Shane into her arms. “Your dad is parking the car, he’ll be here soon.”
Shane cried and cried, clinging tightly to his mom, wishing he could wake up from this nightmare. The person he wanted the most was somewhere in this ER, having god knows what done to him, fighting for his life for all Shane knew.
At some point his dad joined them in the tiny space, wrapping his arms around Shane from the other side, the way they used to when he was little.
*****
Shane wasn’t sure how much time had passed when they finally received an update. Ilya had a subdural hematoma – a brain bleed – the doctor said, and was going to need surgery. They were taking him up to the OR now. Shane tried his best to focus on what the doctor was saying, but all he could hear was brain bleed playing over and over in his head. How had he not noticed? Sure, Ilya had gone down on the ice, but the team doctors had cleared him to keep playing. They were always so strict with concussion protocols, so how had they missed this? Ilya’s fucking brain was bleeding.
The doctor left and Shane started pacing, back and forth, in the tiny curtained off space they were left in. He was vaguely aware of his mom leaving the space and coming back.
“Shane, sweetie,” his mom said, gently putting a hand on his arm. “Sarah said we can move up
to the post-op waiting room now.” Shane blinked at her in confusion, not really processing what was happening.
“Come on, Son” his dad said, standing at his other side. “Let’s get out of this – well whatever it is.”
Shane walked between his parents and let them lead him to the elevators, and up to a room on a different floor. This room was bigger, with chairs lining the walls and the center of the room. There were two other people in the waiting room, an older man and a younger woman. It was late at night, so they were sitting quietly, and the younger woman looked like she might fall asleep.
Yuna sat Shane down in a chair with his back to the others. Although it was unlikely he would be recognized, and even less likely they would bother him when they had their own shit to deal with, Shane still understood the need for some anonymity.
Shane felt worn out and absolutely exhausted. Between the adrenaline drop off and the sheer amount he had put his body through in the past 24 hours, he knew he couldn’t stay awake. Yuna had noticed he was fighting to stay awake. “Shane, sweetie, it’s okay if you fall asleep. We’ll wake you as soon as we hear anything.”
“No – I – I can’t. I can’t sleep while he’s fighting for his life. I can’t do that to him.” Shane said, words catching in his throat.
“Shane,” David said, putting his arm around Shane. “There’s nothing we can do right now but wait. Ilya is going to need you when he wakes up. It’s better if you can get some rest now.”
Shane shook his head, disagreeing vehemently. But before he knew it, his head was sagging against his dad’s shoulder, his eyes were closing, and he was drifting off into a restless sleep.
*****