Chapter Text
Shane had planned it as a surprise. Which was a bit ridiculous, in truth, since it was Ilya who drove them everywhere.
But Ilya didn’t bring it up, didn’t tease him. His mind was elsewhere. Another good day. Maybe it was unhelpful, maybe it was jinxing it, but every time good days succeeded each other, all it did was make him brace for the crash. For the inevitable elusive bad days that were ahead.
It had been two weeks since his talk with the Pikes and he'd only just mustered the courage to tell Shane about his idea. On the way there, they talked of possible new plays, coming games and what they could have done better when they destroyed Edmonton.
They were almost there when Ilya parked the car by the road and told Shane to take over driving.
Ilya was shaking, but not due to an episode. He was sick with fear of what he'd just thought about. He was pressed against the passenger seat, hands over his face, unable to look at Shane.
"What happened, Lya?" No answer. "Ilya. Ilya!" Shane wasn't going to drive when his husband was like that.
But Ilya still couldn't bear to look at him and started crying, which broke Shane's heart in trillions of pieces.
"Lya..."
"I thought about it, Sólnyshko. You're in the car with me and I-" His voice cracked.
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He hated this about himself. Every other part of his diagnosis, he could handle. He had a strong support system who cared for him every step of the way. But there's nothing anyone could do for the thoughts that would invade his mind. Like...
You could swerve the car off the road. You're in the woods, there's plenty of trees, it wouldn't be difficult. You'd never have another bad day again.
How could he have been stupid enough to think he'd ever be able to raise a child when he was like this? What if, one day, he couldn't help himself, like his mama, and Irina found him? Or if he had a child with Shane, they did? He'd never forgive himself, dead as he'd be, he still wouldn't. And Shane shouldn't either. He probably would, he was so...perfect. Speaking of his husband, that would destroy him. Forever. He knew Shane would never be able to recover from the loss of him.
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"But you wouldn't have done it."
"You don't know that!"
"Yes, I do. I know you, I trust you."
Ilya shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It's not about that."
"It does matter. Ilya, do you want to hurt yourself right now?"
After thinking about it for a moment, Ilya shook his head.
"Do you want to hurt me?"
"NO!" It hurt to even think of anymore harm coming to Shane than it already had. "Never!"
"Exactly. I'll drive for the last ten minutes, and we can cuddle when we get there and I'll scratch your hair just the way you like, and we'll talk about anything you want, and the thoughts will pass. They're just words in your head. They can't hurt you if you don't let them. And I know you won't."
Overwhelmed by just how much he loved the beautiful, kind and wonderful man before him, Ilya kissed him and Shane immediately kissed back.
"Я люблю тебя. Чем я заслужил тебя?" I love you. What have I done to deserve you?
"君はただそうするだけさ。だって、僕は君を心から愛しているし、世界中のホッケーのトロフィーやメダルと引き換えにしても、君を手放すつもりはないよ、イリヤ・ホランダー＝ロザノフ。もし君とホッケーのどちらかを選ばなければならないとしたら、どんな人生でも僕は君を選ぶだろうね。" You just do. Because I adore you, and I wouldn't trade you for every hockey trophies and medals in the whole wide world, Ilya Hollander-Rozanov. If I had to pick between you and hockey, in every lifetime, I'd pick you.
Ilya laughed wetly. "How strange to know you mean that..."
"I mean, did we not already make that choice?"
"I seem to remember a fanmail by Hayden Pike picking for us, but if you say so..."
"No. The fanmail was just the butterfly. We choose to be the hurricane."
"Scott Hunter was the butterfly. The fanmail was the storm. But yes, we're the hurricane. And what a fantastic hurricane we are. Also, don't ever tell Hunter I said that."
"I would never betray you so." Shane almost pouted. Ilya just kissed it away.
Eventually, twenty minutes later, they made it to their second home. They went down to the lake and cuddled up to look at the stars. After a moment, Ilya spoke. "There's something I need to tell you about."
Shane looked up from where he was sprawled on Ilya's lap. "What is it?"
"My niece called me. The day that...you know."
"The called from Russia."
"Yes. Exactly. She's fine, she says. Has access to my money and all that. But she's being trained in figure skating in Moscow."
"That's great. Good for her."
Ilya raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you friends with Virtue/Moir?"
"So?"
"Are you familiar with the name Eteri Tutberitze? And I don't mean from tv."
"She's the woman who watches her skaters cry at Olympics and tears them apart when they leave her, right? When Evgenia Medvedeva had to return to Russia, it made waves. You wouldn't know though, you weren't in the circle yet."
"I don't like the circle. In Russia, sports are separated, and you'd certainly never be so close to other athletes, even your own teammates, much less friends."
"You're kidding."
"I am not. I have never meet Medvedeva, Zagitova or Lipnitskaya except at official events."
"Scott missed a gala practice to come see the women's hockey game in 2018, and he came to watch both teams in 2014." Shane said a bit shocked that Russia would not encourage their athletes to support each other.
"Good for Scott Moir?"
"Ilya, you're telling me you didn't...what...talk to your national team outside of Olympics?"
"Yeah. Russia is a competitive country. Only the very best make it, and only on certain conditions. Many athletes transfer countries, not because they aren't good but because they aren't good enough to make it in the Russian field."
"Would you mind explaining that so my Canadian brain can understand?"
"You know how in Canada there's AAA, AA, A and onward in most junior sports?"
"Yes."
"Well, not in Russia. You make it or you don't."
Shane took a moment to think about how much that must weight on young Russian athletes. One bad season, maybe less, and their dreams were crushed. "You do realize that's insanely cruel? Some people peak later, some need a different form of coaching. You have better skating skills than me, like that puck-between-your-skates turn you do that has to be illegal but hey it's never been called, but I'm a better overall player, especially when it comes to scoring. You're better at teaching people, but I'm better at getting a room full of people to listen to me. Your height gives you an advantage when you play aggressive, while I-" He took a moment to return his brain to life and not hockey. "Can I go on or is the rambling annoying you?"
"I love your rambling." Ilya replied, looking at Shane with such profound love. He could never be into hockey the way his husband was, but he'd gladly listen to hours of it if it made him happy.
"As I was saying, we're fundamentally different players, although we're both excellent centres. If we'd been taught the same way regardless of our own strengths and weaknesses, we would never have gotten this good."
"I disagree. You're a perfectionist, I think you might have thrived in Russia. Wouldn't have been good for your mental health though. There'd have been no one to tell you how you trained and ate and all was unhealthy in its intensity and severity, quite the opposite. I'm glad you're Canadian. You deserve to be a nice and free Canadian."
"So did you. No one deserves to be treated the way you tell me Russia treats its athletes."
Silence. Shane knew he was speaking to a converted by now, but still. Sometimes, the things Ilya would say about his birth country made him a little nauseous. How was any of this allowed? "Why are we having this depressing conversation again? What were we talking about?"
"Eteri Tutberitze."
"No, wasn't this about your niece?"
"It's interconnected."
"Wait, she's training with her?!"
"Yes. She better be, because is she's training at Plushenko, someone's going to die when I go to Russia to get her and it wont be me."
"You're not going back to Russia, even for that. It's too dangerous. We'll find another way to get her, if that's what you want."
"Actually, that's what I wanted to speak to you about."
"I have considered the impacts of getting custody on our lives, I've made a spreadsheet of pros and cons in percentages. I'll show it to you on the tv."
Ilya chuckled. "I've no doubt it's a great spreadsheet, but we're not getting custody of her."
"Why not, we've talked about having kids."
"We can't get her from Russia."
"Why not? Because they hate us?"
"They hate me."
"No, no, I'm pretty sure they hate us both."
"Regardless, that's not why. Gay couples can't adopt Russian children. Only straight couples could in Canada, based on the rules."
"Does that mean you have someone in mind?"
"Yes. Did Hayden not call you after I called him two weeks ago?"
"He did, why?"
"Nothing. He and Jackie are the ones I have in mind."
"Have you asked them? My best friend, won't Russia be suspicious?"
"That's why I need your approval. He...well, he couldn't really publicly be your best friend, at least for a while."
And that hurt Shane, to think about losing Hayden. He was the only person in Montreal who hadn't made him feel like retiring entirely after he and Ilya were outed. Or had outright asked he did if he didn't denounce his relationship with the love of his life.
"I know how much I'm asking of you, Sólnyshko. You don't have to accept."
"I...I'm not saying no. I have to think about it. It's a lot of...changes."
"I know. That's why we're not doing this unless you want to."
"We'd have time to prepare though."
"I've been warned that children are preparation proofed."
"Yes, Hayden is my over a decade long best friend, I've heard the speech."
"I...I really want to help her. But you come first. Always. I would never do anything to hurt you."
"I know. I'll think about it. We both want kids, and I suppose apart from helping a child in need, it would also be a good way of seeing if we're cut out for that."
"It's not an experiment, Shane."
"No, but it's not as big a commitment as a baby. We won't accidentally kill her."
"Боже, Shane... I'd like to think we'd be competent enough to not accidentally kill our baby!"
"Human babies are the most fragile thing ever! They're so unprotected, they are evolutionary wired to be universally cute so you will protect them."
"That trait must have skipped me."
"Lya..." It was both disappointed and sad, so the man in question focused on the sunset instead.
"It's fine, I was joking."
"I'm sure you were an adorable baby."
"Well, I know you were, because I've seen pictures of your cute freckled baby self."
Shane flushed the same colour as the setting sun. "Do not remind me, it was the worst betrayal my parents have ever committed against me!"
Ilya just laughed and Shane considered rolling them both into the lake as revenge.
The next morning, they went on a morning run around the lake together, with Anya leading. They had breakfast, and another day of creamer for Shane but they returned to the dropper, a clear sign he was stressed, since they put in the same quantity as yesterday, only the control freak version, then went down to the lake. It wasn't that cold that they couldn't swim, but Shane as always stayed on the deck once autumn began. He got his revenge for yesterday by shoving his husband in, only to be dragged in himself when he got lured by Ilya asking for a kiss.
"Lya!"
"You started it." Ilya mumbled against Shane's now wet hair.
"It's freezing!"
"It's my Russian blood being better for winter than your Canadian one."
Shane splashed him, offended. "That is so untrue!"
"Well, I'm not cold."
"No, of course not, you're stealing all my body heat."
"It is great body heat."
Shane splashed his husband and his stupidly sexy Russian accent once more. "What we talked about yesterday. Can you give me until Monday to answer? I want to...think it through."
"I'll give you forever if that's what you need."
"We don't have forever, Ly-" Ilya shut him up with a kiss.
The rest of the weekend passed much as it usually did for them. They practiced on their rink, had sex in their trophy room because they could and settled on one new dog instead of two. And whenever Ilya was busy, Shane would deep-dive Russian female figure skating and what it was like growing up an orphan in Russia and also how terribly controlling Russia was of their citizens coming in and out, all with Svetlana's help. It became his new hyper-fixation, especially since the edits were excellent.
Ilya was doing shooting drills when Shane scratched to an end next to him. "Is it true that they weight the athletes daily and don't let them rest injuries?"
What? Ilya didn't have the faintest clue what his husband was talking about. "Shane, what's this about, is something wrong?"
"Russia." Ah. That.
He turned fully toward his husband. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes. Now please tell me."
"Yes, it's true, and not just the skaters."
"Is it true that child abuse is basically a don't ask don't tell policy, and isn't explicitly illegal except in schools and criminal institutions?"
"Yes."
"Is it true that you don't have access to your passports as children athletes and whatnot?"
"Shane-"
"Is it! Is that why when we wanted to go to Japan for a day in Pyeongchang, you couldn't come?"
Ilya sighed. "Yes."
"How would you get to your Canada games while with Boston?"
"I had an athlete's visa."
"But you had a passport?"
"Yes, I just...didn't see it much."
"Is it true there's no age limit to conversation therapy because of the new law?"
"Yes. Now, Shane, please, what is this all about?"
"I'll do it. Your niece, the plan. Let's do it."
"Are you serious?"
"Oh, absolutely. If I can't fuck Russia at hockey for another year, I'll fuck them elsewhere."
It's in moments like this Ilya falls in love with Shane Hollander all over again.