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Summary
One unlucky hit on the ice, and Shane loses more than he could've imagined, or: the romance novel amnesia AU that nobody asked for and that I felt compelled to write anyway.
Shane—Shane was alive. He was alive, and in the best hospital in Montreal, and being monitored by a vigilant team of doctors and nurses. The machines that were attached to him proclaimed his life. There was his heartbeat: 62 beats per minute. His blood oxygen was 99%. There were all sorts of other numbers and charts, none of which alarmed the nurse who had bustled in and then bustled out again. That meant that everything was good—except for the fact that Shane had not woken up yet. That, Ilya knew, was very, very bad.