Work Text:
Winter 2023
Ilya winces as he takes a drink of the terrible hospital coffee. He's not sure why he hasn't tossed it out, maybe it helps with the anxiety of waiting. Golden light is streaming into the room, it's quiet here. There's only a few others in the surgery waiting room, a television blue-lit in the corner with patient codes and patient status updates. Thankfully, Canadian hospitals have very nice staff who talked down a very neurotic Ilya as Shane was admitted and wheeled into an operating room. He thumbs at the card with Shane's ID number, glancing up at the screen often. Shane had been overwhelmed, sure, but was consoling Ilya, who had been near bouncing off the walls with questions and demands for the best care. 'it's a routine surgery Ilya, I'll be fine.' And he knew Shane was right, it was just an appendix removal, it wasn't like he'd be getting a heart transplant or something. But Ilya is not a fan of hospitals. He drinks down the rest of his watery coffee and bounces his knees. His phone buzzes making him almost jump. It's Yuna.
YUNA
Any updates?
Not yet, should be soon I hope
YUNA
How are you doing?
I am fine
YUNA
Ilya you may be my favourite son but you are terrible at lying
I am just nervous, I do not like hospitals
YUNA
Have you eaten anything?
I had some terrible coffee, I am not so hungry
YUNA
He will be just fine and you'll be right by his side when he's out of surgery
I know, it is still scary. I love him very much
YUNA
This is why I love you Ilya. You can tell him how much you love him very soon
I will tell him how I am the favourite son
YUNA
I think he knows
Ilya glances up at the screen again, Shane's number has moved up and is now labeled 'in recovery'
He is out of surgery, I will text you soon!
YUNA
Give him a hug from me and dad
Of course
Ilya leaves the quiet room for the bustling hospital hall. Shane's patient card says to check in one floor down from the waiting room, he opts for the stairs, quicker that way. Once he's out of the stairwell he beelines for the nurses station.
"Hello, I am here for Shane Hollander!"
The woman behind the desk is startled at his loud introduction. She gives Ilya a warm smile.
"What is your relation to the patient?"
"Husband." He replies quick, holding up his left hand as if to prove himself.
She just nods and types into her computer.
"Do you mind if I take a look at your ID?"
Ilya fumbles with his wallet and slides his license over her desk.
"Thank you." She resumes typing, scans his license and then hands it back.
"Alright, you're all set here, thank you for verifying." She pulls out a card and starts scribbling something down. "Here is his room number, and on the back are directions. You'll take the elevators behind me here to get to the recovery wing. If you have trouble finding his room give his patient ID to the front desk up there and they'll be able to direct you."
"Thank you." Ilya replies.
He takes the card from her and studies the directions. He has to use a different set of elevators to go to a different wing of the hospital, two floors up and then… he furrows a little at the handwriting, H-507. He waits impatiently for the elevators, the stairs are right next to him but the nurse specifically said elevator, so he's nervous about ending up in the wrong place. The ride up feels like forever, three — four — five, the doors open and his eyes are darting to the room directory. It's not as confusing as he'd thought. Shane's room is easy enough to find, he doesn't knock, scared to wake him. Shane's head turns toward the door as soon as Ilya enters,
"Ilyaaaa" He slurs
A pang of sadness hits him for a split second. The whole of image of this, Shane in a hospital bed, drugged out of his mind and reaching out for him. It's all too similar to that day he'd visited after Marleau broke Shane's collarbone. Ilya is grabbing Shane's outstretched hand in a instant, kissing his knuckles.
"How are you feeling моя любовь?"
"mmm I'm okay. Did you miss me?"
"Very much."
"Kiss." Shane says, puckering his lips at Ilya
Ilya laughs and presses their lips together. He pulls away only to grab a chair and sit at his bedside.
"Ilyaaaa?"
"Yes детка?"
"How much do you love me?"
Ilya pulls Shane's hand to his lips again, chuckling against them. "I love you very much Shane."
"But howww much?"
"So, so much."
"mmm, do you love me more than Russians love Vodka?"
"HA! Yes, so much more, no one can love anything more than I love you, my Shane."
"Would you love me if I quit hockey?"
"Yes, of course? I would love you if you became boring newspaper writer, I love you no matter what моя любовь."
"I love you toooo."
"I love you more."
There's moment of silence, Shane half-sleeping half grinning at nothing. He opens his mouth to speak but then closes it.
"Ilyaaaa?"
"Yes my Shane?"
"Would you love me if I turned into a worm?"
Ilya can't help but laugh out loud.
"Shane what kind of a question is that?"
"It's a simple questions Ilyaa!!"
Ilya sighs out a laugh, "Yes Shane, I would love you as a worm, I would buy very good dirt and the best worm house, I would even make tiny disgusting smoothie for you to drink."
Shane beams. "And you would put me by the window to keep warm?"
"Yes, I would even buy miniature heater and air cooler for your tiny worm house. I would buy little worm glasses and books for you."
"Well, that's veryyy good to know."
"mhm, mhm." He kisses Shane's forehead, "Get some sleep my love, okay?"
"Are you gonna leave?"
"No, no I will be here the whole time, watching over. I promise."
"Good — Kiss."
Ilya kisses him again and scratches at Shane's scalp. He leans into the touch and drifts off to sleep. He opens his phone again to text Yuna.
He is doing just fine.