Work Text:
May 11th, 2020
Shane was sick with covid. Of course he got covid in the middle of playoff season. Just his luck, right? Ilya had been caring for him ever since the test came back positive.
Covid was terrible. He felt like he was on his deathbed everytime he tried to take a breath or eat anything that wasn’t plain toast. Besides, he didn’t want to eat much since he knew he would see it again in 30 minutes.
Ilya had left an hour ago to head to practice and told him that he would be back soon. Soon. How long was soon?
Wait, he knew how long practices were. He supposed it was a waiting game until then.
Anya was being particularly needy today and Shane was about to explode. It felt like she needed to go outside every five minutes and he could hardly stand without wanting to vomit everywhere.
Then, of course, she started barking. What the hell could she be barking at? Shane couldn’t even holler at her to stop. His stomach was churning and he was stuck on the bathroom floor with his head in toilet. He wished Ilya was here so he could tell her to shut up.
He wanted to cry and go to sleep and call Ilya and jump off a bridge, all at once. Everything hurt.
His head was pounding.
His stomach was empty but relentless.
His throat felt like fire and glass.
His ears rang.
As if it couldn’t get worse, his clothes were too tight and too itchy. They hadn’t felt like that a few minutes ago.
He was too sick to get up and change clothes and it would hurt anyways, considering his joints protested everytime he moved. What a shitty day this was.
He lied in bed staring at the ceiling, attempting to calm himself because he knew if he spiraled too far, he would have a meltdown and Ilya wasn’t even here to help him come back to earth.
Just thinking about the idea of having a meltdown made his breathing quicken and hands begin to sweat.
Shit.
Tears clouded his vision as he sat up and made his way back to the bathroom, as quickly as his legs would allow him.
He didn’t make it to the toilet and dry heaved into the sink. He didn’t like vomiting, it was messy and smelled bad and hurt his throat. God this was so fucking shitty.
After he finished his “puking” he fell back onto the floor and pressed his back against the side of bathtub. The buzzing in his head was so loud. His hands were so sweaty. His clothes were so…fuck he couldn’t keep these stupid clothes on.
He got off the floor and stripped down to his boxers and socks before lying on the cold tile floor.
“Ilya…”
He whimpered into the empty bathroom. He felt his words slip away and couldn’t do anything but sit there and cry silently.
——————————————————
He didn’t know how long he had sat there when he heard the front door open and shut.
“Дорогая?” Ilya called into the silent house. Anya whimpered at his feet and barked before trotting to the closed bedroom door, scratching at it. Ilya quietly walked in and looked around, his eyes landing on the locked bathroom door.
“Shane? Are you ok? I’m going to come in, okay?” Ilya said to the door. When he did not get a response, he walked in and he noticed Shane on the floor, curled in the fetal position. His face was tear streaked and shaking.
“Oh, Моя любовь.” Ilya said quietly, dropping to his knees beside Shane. “Do you have your words, Shane?” Shane did not respond, nor did he acknowledge him. Ilyas’ mind raced. Had he gone catatonic? He had only seen it happen once and that was terrifying. He had dissociated for two hours straight and Ilya couldn’t do anything but hold him and wait for him to come back.
“Shane, can you hear me?” Ilya asked, rubbing his back in slow circles in an attempt to get a response.
Nothing.
Oh dear. Shane had most definitely gone catatonic. This only happened when he had a panic attack and didn’t calm himself down fast enough an-
Wait.
This only happens when he has a panic attack. Shane had a panic attack that went long enough for him to disassociate. This was bad. This was really bad.
“Shane, I’m right here. I’m not gonna leave you.” Ilya pulled him gently into his lap and stroked his hair.
Shane’s eyes were glassed over and his breathing was uneven. He barely even realized Ilya was there until he was literally in his lap.
He wanted to tell him he was ok. He wanted to kiss him and lay with him until they fell asleep.
But he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t respond his mouth wouldn’t move. He didn’t have words. Tears rolled silently down his cheeks as he stared blankly ahead.
Ilya could feel that Shane was burning up and pressed his the back of his hand to his forehead. He was very warm.
“О дорогая. Shane, I’m going to get up and get the thermometer, okay? I will back very quickly.” Ilya carefully placed Shane back on the floor and scurried to the closet to grab the thermometer.
When he returned, Shane had curled into himself more. He carefully placed the thermometer against his forehead. 103.5
As if it couldn’t get worse, Shane began to look very, very pale and wrong.
“Shane, are you ok?” Ilya could barely get the words out before Shane vomited onto the floor. When had he eaten? Ilya didn’t remember but that didn’t matter now.
“Oh shit!” Ilya quickly grabbed Shane and positioned him with his head over the toilet so he could at least get the last of it in there. “О, любовь моя, ты этого не заслуживаешь.”
——————————————————
Shane slowly blinked. He was…in their bedroom? How did he end up here? What time was it? What happened?
“Ilya?…” Shane said into the dark room. He heard rustling out in the living room and quick footsteps approaching.
“Shane? Shane! Моя любовь, you are okay.” Ilya kneeled beads the bed and moved the strands of hair out of his face. “What time is it?” Shane asked.
“Around 10:30. You were gone for…fuck…four hours?” Ilya said gently cupping Shane’s face.
“Four hours?..”
“Yes. You were…what’s the word…” Ilya clicked his tongue as if the word would come to him if he called for it. “Dissociation?…no…um…”
“Catatonic?” Shane asked, a small smile spreading on his face.
“Da, yes that one. You were cat-tonic” Close enough.
“Are you hungry?” Ilya asked, suddenly realizing he probably didn’t eat before he went…kittytonic(?).
“Sort of.” Shane said. He wasn’t exactly sure, he never really felt anything after coming back from his separate world. “I’m not sure actually…” He didn’t want to worry Ilya. He definitely didn’t have eating issues. Maybe. But he just wasn’t hungry. “Do you want to lay on couch?”
“Yes, can you help me there?”
“Of course.”