Chapter Text
Ilya’s heart dropped to his stomach. He immediately hung up the phone, rushing to the front door. Shane followed close behind, chest tight with anxiety. Anya barked behind them as the Russian tugged his shoes on.
“Car accident,” Ilya managed, grabbing his keys and wallet before yanking the door open. Shane stumbled, his slides already on his feet as he grabbed his wallet and followed Ilya swiftly out the door, closing it behind him and locking it. He rushed to the car, slipping into the passenger seat as Ilya put it in reverse, backing out of the driveway as soon as the door was closed.
“Any information?” Shane asked tersely, eyes blank as he watched the cottage disappear behind the trees covering the driveway. The stretch to the road seemed so much longer.
Ilya shook his head once. “Queensway Hospital,” he gritted, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His breaths came as a staccato, fear clutching him tightly in its fist. He pulled onto the road, blinking rapidly.
Shane gave a tense nod, rubbing his chest with his palm. Belatedly, he realized he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. He anxiously tugged it on, the click of it ringing through the car. He felt like he was floating outside of his body, watching everything in slow motion. The road was endless in front of them.
Ilya’s foot pressed on the gas.
They would be with their kids soon.
~
An Hour Earlier
~
Luka opened his eyes to a bright blur. He blinked, barely registering the ringing in his ears as he tried to shake the disorientation away. His head pulsed, a groan escaping his mouth involuntarily. He turned his neck slowly, eyes landing on a figure in the passenger seat. The man squeezed his eyes shut, trying to grasp the thread of consciousness he felt. He opened his eyes slowly, able to see a little clearer.
A strangled gasp escaped his throat as he saw Dimitri’s form behind the airbag, unconscious and bloody. The door had caved into his side and his hair was standing up. Luka faintly registered the pounding in his own head as excess blood. They must’ve been upside down. The events of the last minute came back to him disjointedly.
Sirens wailed through his shaky recount. They were in Ottawa. Luka was driving himself, Dimitri, and Nadia—
Luka whipped his head to look behind him, the movement much slower than it felt. Pain exploded across his spine.
Nadia was unmoving in the backseat, her arm bent at an unnatural angle. Her hair covering her face, completely soaked in blood. Luka could barely see any of her natural colour… all he saw was blood—
He threw up, eyes swimming. He barely registered the vomit dripping over his face and into his hair. Panic seized him, consciousness falling through his fingers.
A loud voice broke through his haze. Luka turned his head again, squinting as pain persisted at the base of his neck. He could sort of make out a uniform that resembled a paramedic uniform. With relative trust that his siblings would be taken care of, Luka let his eyes fall shut.
~
Paramedics arrived on scene quickly, working with the firefighters to get the three young adults from the car.
Luka is in and out of consciousness, chest heaving as he’s lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled to a waiting ambulance. “Dee— an’ Dia,” he rasped, squinting as a light shone brightly in his face. A loud voice was near his ear.
“Sir, can you hear me? Sir?”
“C-Call, dad…” he mumbled, pain steady in his body. A paramedic spoke as he put pressure on Luka’s leg. “We’ll call your dad at the hospital,” he assured, voice steady. “Can you tell me your name?”
Luka let darkness consume him.
~
Dimitri was limp as he was loaded onto a stretcher, breaths faint and shallow. His heart thumped slowly in his chest. A paramedic shouted something about the potential of organ failure and internal bleeding.
~
Nadia partially came to in the ambulance, a strangled whimper leaving her throat. She blinks slowly, eyelashes heavy with blood. One eye stays stubbornly closed. She could barely feel any part of her body. A paramedic lowered himself into Nadia’s point of view.
“Ma’am? Ma’am, can you hear me?” Nadia’s tongue was heavy in her mouth, head fogged.
“L-L’ka? ‘Mi… ‘Mitri?” She slurred, words coming out as disjointed syllables. Her head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut, with any traces of responsiveness disappearing as her body began to seize.
~
An Hour Later
~
Shane and Ilya arrived at the hospital in record time. Ilya parked the car haphazardly as Shane spilled from the passenger seat. He ran into the emergency room, knowing Ilya would be close behind. He rushed past an elderly couple who was leaving, immediately approaching the front desk.
“I need— I need to see my babies,” Shane demanded. His skin felt suffocatingly tight. The woman at the front desk looked up, a blank expression on her face.
“Name?” She asked, glasses low on her nose. Shane blinked rapidly.
“N-Nadia Jane Yuri, Luka David Yuto, and Dimitri Nikolai Ryota. Last names are all Hollander-Rozanov,” He rushed, tapping his foot in an attempt to expel his anxious energy to limited success.
Ilya entered the emergency room seconds later, eyes scanning the room before he rushed over to Shane, putting a hand on his back.
The woman raised a brow. “One at a time,” she responded plainly.
Shane’s hands were shaking as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He grabbed his license, handing it to the woman. “Please, we need to see them. Right now.”
The woman slowly took his ID, looking it over. She looked between Shane and the card before turning her gaze to Ilya. “I’ll need your ID too, sir,” she said.
Shane exhaled impatiently, blinking rapidly. “F-Fuck,” he muttered, tone frustrated. Ilya dug his hand into his pocket, all but throwing his license at the woman.
She looked at Shane over her glasses. “We have a strict anti-harassment policy against staff,” she informed them, tone judgemental. Shane wanted to punch her in the face. He took a deep breath instead. Ilya spoke for him.
“Apologies,” he replied shortly. “We need to see our children. Now.”
She merely hummed, looking at their licenses before typing something on her computer. She handed them back to the two men. “Luka is in room 402. Dimitri just got out of surgery. He may not have visitors yet.”
Ilya nodded sharply, pocketing both his and Shane’s cards.
“And Nadia?” Shane asked impatiently, hands curling into fists. He was practically vibrating with fear and frustration.
The woman tilted her head slightly. “You said all the patients had the last name Hollander-Rozanov. There is no female patient with that last name.”
Shane was about to snap this woman’s neck.
Ilya interjected, his own composure slipping. “Is Russian tradition to make women’s last name feminine. Nadia Hollander-Rozanova. What room?” His voice was dangerously low, jaw clenched tightly.
The woman bristled. “Miss Hollander-Rozanova is in room 419,” she replied cattily.
Ilya bit his tongue, glaring at the woman before turning and following Shane, who had immediately rushed down the hallway upon hearing Nadia’s room number. The two came to a stop at the elevator, waiting impatiently.
“Rude asshole,” Shane muttered, anger and anxiety apparent in his form. Ilya gave a terse nod, swallowing the lump in his throat. Tears pressed insistently at the back of his eyes.
The elevator opened and the two retired hockey players stepped inside, one pressing the button for the fourth floor. Ilya’s blood rushed in his ears as the doors slid closed. “Surgery,” he murmured, scratching his knuckles anxiously.
“Surgery,” Shane repeated in a whisper, forcing himself to take a deep breath.
The elevator stopped, doors opening on the fourth floor. Ilya followed Shane out of the elevator, scanning the signs and following the directions towards the two rooms. As they walked down the hall, a police officer and a doctor spotted them, breaking from their conversation and gently blocking the path.
“Mr. Hollander, Mr. Rozanov,” the officer greeted. “I spoke with you earlier on the phone.”
Shane nodded impatiently, blinking as he looked at the officer. He made a move to get around the two bodies. He was stopped with a hand to his shoulder. Ilya’s eye twitched.
“I understand you’re anxious to get to your children. Dr. Sutcliffe and I have to speak to you first.”
Ilya managed a nod, looking away briefly to will the tears out of his eyes. “W-What?” He asked, voice much less demanding than he intended.
Officer Paek looked between the two men, face carefully blank. “Your children were struck by a drunk driver.”
Ilya’s breath vanished from his lungs. He looked down, letting the tears fall from his eyes. He fought to keep himself from sprinting down the hallway.
Shane’s inhale was sharp, his composure slipping. “I need to see them. Please— I need to see my babies.”
Dr. Sutcliffe’s eyes softened. She spoke gently. “Your children are alive.” That brought a small amount of relief to the couple. “The other car struck the passenger’s side of the vehicle and the car flipped twice before landing upside down. Dimitri’s door caved into his side, causing minor internal bleeding in his stomach. They just finished surgery to stop the bleed. He also suffered a fractured collarbone and a minor head injury, though he’s been clear of a concussion. His injuries were the worst out of the three.”
Shane let the words linger for a moment. He took a breath.
“Luka? Nadia?” He managed, glancing at his husband. Shane put a hand on Ilya’s back to mask its tremble.
Dr. Sutcliffe nodded. “Luka has suffered a sprained neck and some heavy bruising, but nothing overly concerning. He was in and out of consciousness to my understanding. He’ll be stuck in a neck brace for the next three weeks, but otherwise he is okay.”
Shane wanted to scream. His baby being in a hospital bed was the furthest thing from okay. He held onto the thread of relief.
Dr. Sutcliffe continued. “Nadia… hit her head hard against the top of the vehicle when it flipped, on top of snapping her wrist on initial impact. She suffered a Grade Two concussion and heavy bleeding. We put eight stitches in her head to close the wound. Additionally, she suffered from a seizure in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. We had her undergo a CT scan upon arrival and detected minimal abnormalities. All three of your children are expected to make full recoveries. Their injuries would be much worse, had Luka not hit the brakes. That action and their seatbelts saved their lives. ”
Ilya glanced at Shane, brain slowly translating the specifics of each injury in his head. He glanced at his husband, praying he retained and understood the information. Based on his look of desperation, he did.
“Please, please let us see them,” he begged. Ilya’s heart cracked in his chest. Shane’s voice had never sounded so fearful. The Russian ignored how similar he felt, as well as the tears steadily rolling down his cheeks.
The doctor nodded, stepping aside. “Nadia is—”
Shane turned to Ilya. “I go to room 402—”
“I go to 419,” Ilya finished, offering his husband a small nod before turning and rushing to Nadia’s room.
He opened the door slowly, mentally bracing himself for what he was about to see. Nadia was lying on a bed in the middle of the room, lights dim so as to not aggravate her concussion. She was sleeping, heart monitor steadily beeping, an IV bag dripping fluids into her arm. She wore a hospital gown and a cap, hiding her hair.
Ilya closed the door behind him, approaching his baby’s bed. He carefully lowered himself onto the chair beside her, cataloguing her appearance in his head. Her left arm was in a plaster cast, resting next to her on the bed.
Ilya’s eyes roamed her figure before landing on her face. There was sparse bruising, but what bothered the Russian was the stain of blood covering most of face. Up close he could see the dried blood in her lashes. Silently he thanked whatever nurse had cleaned her up so he didn’t have to see the worst of it.
The man gently took Nadia’s free hand, chest unsteady at the limpness of the limb. “Hi, malyshka,” he whispered. “Papa’s here. I’ll keep you safe.” Ilya lowered his head and finally, finally let his quiet, grief-stricken sobs spill from his chest.
~
Shane rapped his knuckles against the hospital door of room 402. He waited just a moment before opening the door slowly. His eyes landed on his eldest child, who was sitting up in the hospital bed, a neck brace on and bruises smattering over his face. His hair had been haphazardly washed to remove the vomit and blood. He was awake, eyes unfocused as he looked at the wall.
Shane closed the door, carefully approaching the bed. “Luka? Baby, it’s dad.”
Luka blinked, looking up at Shane. Immediately, his bottom lip began to tremble. “Dad, I’m so sorry— Dimitri and Nadia, oh God, I didn’t mean to—” he dissolved into harsh sobs. Shane immediately crossed the room, sitting on the edge of Luka’s bed and grabbing his hand.
“Hey hey… shhhh. Shhhh, oh, baby. You’re okay. They’re okay. It wasn’t your fault, not at all,” he murmured, ignoring the tears welling in his own eyes. Luka made a noise of protest, choking on a sob. Shane carefully put a hand on the younger man’s sternum, applying a light pressure with his fist.
“You need to breathe, honey. Slowly, slowly. There you go, bud, you’re okay. I’ve got you. Everyone’s safe now.”
Luka’s breaths were a sharp staccato. “Nadia was b-bleeding so much,” he gasped. “Dimitri wouldn’t wake up!” He let out a ragged sob, dry heaving at the memory. Shane immediately pushed his son’s hair back, helpless but to watch him sob.
“They’re okay,” he whispered, voice more confident than he felt. “You saved them, Luka. Your quick reflexes saved them. They’re okay because of you, do you hear me? You’re the best big brother they could ask for. You are not at fault for this.”
Luka was shaking, tears and cries slowing but not stopping. “I should’ve done more,” he gasped.
Shane leaned forward, resting their foreheads together and cupping Luka’s face in his hands. “You did what you could,” he murmured, tone firm. “I get to hold all three of my babies tonight because of your quick actions.”
The elder’s voice broke. “You’re my hero, Luka. Thank you.”
Luka blinked rapidly, letting a small breath escape his lips. “I was so scared, dad,” he whispered.
Shane nodded. “I know. You’re going to be okay, do you hear me? Everyone’s expected to make a full recovery.”
Luka closed his eyes, lifting his hand and childishly grabbing Shane’s forearm. Shane surrendered it with ease, letting his son cradle his hand and trace the lines of his palms with his fingertips. The hockey star lifted his head, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. His other hand remained cradling his cheek.
“How are you feeling?” Shane asked after several moments of silence. Luka smoothed his thumb over the ridge of his father’s knuckles.
“Sore. I’m on painkillers though.”
Shane nodded a little, allowing himself a deep breath.
“I’m going to call Megan, then Grandma and Grandpa. Do you want me to stay with you while I do?”
Luka nodded, breath hitching. “Oh, Megan. She’s going to be so worried.”
Shane nodded, gently stroking Luka’s freckles with his thumb. Moments like these made him understand Ilya’s fixation on his own freckles.
“Yes,” he agreed quietly. “Her husband was in a car accident. She’ll be home as soon as she can be.”
Luka swallowed thickly. “I don’t want to ruin her trip.”
Shane made a small noise of understanding. “She understands. She has a right to know, and be here for you, buddy.”
The younger nodded a little, letting himself relax against the pillows as Shane pulled out his phone.
~
A knock at the door roused Ilya from his exhausted, post-cry trance. He looked up, sniffling as a nurse entered the room, offering a small smile. Ilya tightened his grip on Nadia’s hand.
“Mr. Rozanov. My name is Penny, I’m in charge of Nadia’s care tonight. Has she woken up at all?”
Ilya shook his head, clearing his throat as he glanced at his daughter. “N-No. Sleeping soundly. How long has it been?”
Penny approached the bed, humming quietly. “It’s been almost an hour and fifty minutes since I last woke her up. She was quite startled last time and kept asking for her brothers. She might be more comfortable if you were to do it, if you’re willing.”
Ilya immediately nodded, taking a deep breath. He sat up properly, gently shaking Nadia’s shoulder.
“Nadenka? It’s time to wake up, sweetheart.” His tone was soft, voice wrecked from his tears.
Nadia stirred, a noise catching in her throat. She furrowed her brows, tilting her head towards Ilya.
“Papochka?” She mumbled, hand twitching in her father’s hold.
Ilya gave a small nod, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Da. Hi, baby. Nurse Penny is going to do some checks, okay?”
The girl hummed, opening her eyes slowly. Penny smiled, crouching beside Nadia’s bed.
“Hi, Nadia. Can you tell me where you are?”
“H-Hospital,” she rasped.
Penny nodded, jotting something down on her clipboard. “That’s right. Do you know what city we’re in?”
“‘Ttawa,” she answered, eyes bleary as she looked at Penny.
“You’re doing so well,” Penny praised. “How old are you, honey?”
“N-Nineteen.”
Ilya squeezed her hand.
“And your birthday?”
“September 19th, 2030,” she mumbled.
Penny wrote something else down. “Very good. Can you tell me your dad’s birthday?”
Nadia furrowed her brows again. “Dad or Papa?”
The nurse smiled. “Dad.”
Nadia sniffed. “May 10th, 1991. He’s old.”
Ilya snorted. “Dad and I are same age.”
Nadia hummed, turning her head to look at her father. “Says s’mthin’ ‘bout you, I think,” she joked quietly. Ilya rolled his eyes fondly.
Penny laughed, standing up. “Seems like you’re doing much better. I’m going to check your eyes and stitches again, then you’re free to sleep.”
The teenager groaned, looking back at the kind nurse. “Don’ like it,” she complained.
Penny smiled sympathetically, pulling out her penlight. “Super quick.” She clicked on the light, holding it in front of Nadia’s right eye, flicking it away and watching her pupil. She then did the same with the left eye, giving a small nod before clicking the light off.
“Almost done,” she said softly, carefully lifting the cap on Nadia’s head. Ilya’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of her hair, matted with dried blood. Penny gently and quickly situated it back in place.
“Everything seems to be good. Keep resting, okay, honey?”
Nadia closed her eyes, drifting off almost immediately.
Ilya felt sick. Penny looked at him apologetically. “I can’t wash her hair for another few hours because of her sutures. I’m sorry it looks so gruesome. She’s on the mend.”
The Russian held Nadia’s hand in both of his own. “Her pretty curls,” he whispered.
Penny nodded a little. “They might need some work. The blood will definitely stain her hair for a couple of days because it’s so blonde. I’m really sorry. To both of you. This shouldn’t have happened.”
Ilya let out a small breath, looking up at Penny. “Thank you.”
Penny nodded, holding her clipboard to her chest. She cleared her throat. “Dimitri is able to have visitors, but I imagine you aren’t eager to leave any of your kids alone. I’m going to check with your husband, but if it’s okay with you, I’d like to move Luka and Dimitri into this room as well.”
Ilya’s shoulders slumped, relief consuming his body. “Please,” he breathed. “Please, yes. I-I need them together.”
The nurse nodded, checking something on her clipboard. “It’s no problem, Mr. Rozanov. Saves me lots of walking. Give me ten minutes, okay?”
Ilya nodded, turning his focus back to Nadia. Letting his eyes wander over her face, he felt nauseous. He swiftly got up, rushing to the bathroom and emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He tried to ignore the way his hands trembled as he gripped the porcelain.
~
Fifteen minutes later, Nurse Penny was knocking on the door of room 402. She opened it slowly. “Mr. Hollander-Rozanov. I’m so glad you’re awake.”
Luka let out a small breath, managing a weak smile. “Thank you. You can just call me Luka.”
Penny hummed, looking between Luka and Shane, the latter of whom had taken residence on the chair beside the bed.
“Your brother is out of surgery and due to wake up in the next hour. I’ve spoken to Mr. Rozanov and Ms. Hollander-Rozanova— would you like to be moved to the same room?”
Shane’s shoulders dropped in relief. Luka’s eyes widened. “Yes! Yes, please. I need to see them.”
Penny nodded, smiling softly. “Perfect. Mr. Hollander, if you’re able,” she requested, moving towards the bed and gesturing to the wheel locks. Shane nodded, carefully undoing the stops on his side of the bed as Penny worked on the other.
“Just down the hall and to the left,” she instructed, wheeling the bed towards the door with Shane’s assistance. They made it into the hallway, Penny calling out for nurses to move around them as they traversed the hospital. When they arrived in room 419, she pushed open the door and pushed Luka through. His face was flooded in relief as he saw Nadia.
“Oh, Dia,” he whispered, eyes fixed on his sister’s sleeping form. Penny and Shane steered the bed into the room, parking it next to Nadia’s bed. Ilya looked up as the door opened, eyes landing on Luka. He stood, waiting as Penny and Shane got the bed settled. Once it was locked in place, Ilya moved towards Luka and Shane towards Nadia. Penny smiled, excusing herself from the room to bring Dimitri into the room.
Shane was across the room in an instant, cupping Nadia’s face in his hands and looking her over. He exhaled shakily, pressing light kisses to her face. “My baby, my little one,” he murmured into her skin, letting the steady sound of her heartbeat guide him in his relief.
Ilya simultaneously moved towards Luka, kneeling next to his bed. “Lukasha,” he breathed, taking his son’s hand. “I was so worried.”
Luka tore his eyes away from his little sister, looking at Ilya. He squeezed his hand, sniffling quietly. “Papochka, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, a fresh wave of tears pooling his eyes.
Ilya shook his head, gently shushing his son. “No no. I love you. So much, I love you.” He stood, pressing a kiss to the top of Luka’s head and burying his face in his hair. “My strong, brave boy. I am so proud of you. I love you so much.”
Luka let himself cry, holding his father’s hand tightly as he wept. Ilya continued whispering soft reassurances in both English and Russian, his grip on Luka’s hand unwavering.
The door opened, Penny and another nurse wheeling Dimitri in on a bed. He had an IV drip accompanying him. The nurses wheeled his bed to the other side of Nadia, arranging him carefully and locking his bed in place. Penny did a few checks on the equipment, fluffing the pillow behind Dimitri before she and the other nurses exited, closing the door behind them.
Ilya gently shushed Luka as he sobbed harder upon seeing his brother. He hugged his son carefully, kissing the top of his head as he finally let the tension fall from his shoulders.
Shane stood up properly, kissing the bridge of Nadia’s nose before turning to Dimtiri, surprised to see him awake. He offered a small smile, angling the chair between his kids’ beds and sitting down on it to face his middle child.
“Hey, buddy,” he whispered, utter relief coursing through his veins. Dimitri looked over at Shane, grinning brightly. “Holy shit! You’re Shane Hollander!”
Shane raised his brows, gently shushing his son as Nadia stirred on his other side. He took Dimitri’s hand, his other making a shushing gesture. “Yeah, honey, it’s dad. You have to be quiet so you don’t wake your sister, okay?”
Dimitri’s eyes widened in a way that could only be achieved by someone who was extremely high after surgery. “Dad?” He asked in astonishment.
Shane couldn’t help his quiet laugh. He nodded, gently smoothing Dimitri’s hair out of his eyes. “Uh huh.”
The young hockey player looked away, mouth agape. ‘Wow’ he mouthed, turning back to look at Shane. His eyes drifted past him, landing on Ilya. He gasped loudly, ignoring Shane’s attempts to shush him.
“‘Lya Rozanov?!”
At his name, Ilya looked up and smiled warmly at his son. “Right here, solnyshko. Don’t wake your sister.”
Shane snorted at the look of disbelief on Dimitri’s face. The twenty-six year old settled against the pillows. “Can’t believe my dads are the best hockey players in the history of the league,” he muttered to himself. “That’s so fricking awesome.”
The Canadian rubbed his son’s shoulder soothingly. “Have been for a long time, baby.”
Dimitri shrugged. “I forgot. Wait, did you say sister? ‘S Nadia ‘kay? And Luka?”
Shane shifted his chair back so Dimitri could see his siblings. Nadia’s heart monitor was steady. Ilya gently nudged Luka.
“‘M okay, Dee,” he called to his brother. “I can’t look at you, but I’m okay.”
Dimitri nodded heavily. “So awesome,” he replied, looking up at Shane. “Where did Dia’s hair go?”
Shane smiled, standing from his chair. “She has a hat on, buddy. Let’s get you settled, I think you need more sleep.”
The hockey player frowned. “I don’t have a hat.”
His father nodded. “You do not,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”
Dimitri huffed. “If I sleep, do I get a hat?”
Shane raised an eyebrow as he looked at his son, fighting his smile at the serious look on his face. “I’ll make sure of it,” he promised. Dimitri considered his words before nodding a little and closing his eyes, the drugs quickly putting him to sleep.
On the other side of Nadia, Ilya carefully helped Luka lay down.
“You should rest too, malysh,” he whispered, mindful of his neck brace. Luka gave a small hum, his eyes heavy.
“I’m really happy they’re okay,” he whispered.
Ilya gave him a sad smile. “I’m really happy you’re all okay. Get some rest. Dad and I will be right here. Nadia and Dimitri too.”
Ilya looked up at Shane as Luka drifted off, slowly approaching him. Shane met his husband in the middle, wrapping his arms around Ilya and hugging him tightly, letting out a breath as Ilya hugged him back with the same pressure.
“They’re okay,” he whispered into the Russian’s neck.
Ilya nodded. “They’re okay.”
For the first time since the phone rang in the kitchen, those words felt true.