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The lights are too bright, that’s the first clue Shane gets that he’s about to get a migraine. He’s lucky he made it through most of the game. He was no stranger to headaches, he’d had multiple concussions in his career and after each one his headaches increased. He usually got one about every other day but was able to kick them quickly with whatever over-the-counter meds he had. But every couple months he’d get hit with a migraine that would stop him dead in his tracks and leave him unable to do much of anything but curl up into a ball and lay in bed and sleep it off.
They were mostly brought on by lack of sleep, dehydration or not eating enough, he’d discovered. He stuck to his strict but boring diet, as Ilya put it, and tried to get at least 7 hours of sleep at night. Anything less than that would trigger one. Ilya was good at helping him with that one, always reminding him of the time at night and that it was approaching his bedtime. He was always cautious to be quiet in the mornings if he woke up before Shane, doing everything he could to make sure he was able to get his sleep.
The ref blew the whistle and the sound pierced through Shane’s ears, making him flinch. Suddenly everything was too loud. Too many voices talking all at once. Shane closed his eyes and turned his head down towards the ice.
“Hey, you ok?” Hayden was beside him now. Shane blinked up at him, doing his best to hide that he was beginning to suffer. A dull pain was starting to throb in his head. “Yeah, fine. We got this. This game is ours,” Shane said, forcing a smile.
Hayden studied his face for a few moments. He’d known Shane for years and knew when he was forcing it. He knew he was lying. The game was minutes away from ending so Hayden let it go but he kept a close eye on Shane for the remainder of the time.
They did win, no surprise. The other team wasn’t having a great year and this ended up being a pretty easy win for Montreal. Back in the locker room Shane texted Ilya to let him know he was going to shower and that he’d meet up with him soon. Ilya didn’t have a game tonight so he’d come to watch tonight with some of his teammates. They were currently back in one of the rooms for family and friends hanging out.
Shane made it through his shower slower than normal. The dull ache in his head was pounding now and he was starting to feel nauseous. He dried off and got dressed but as he sat down and leaned to get his shoes on, the pain doubled him over. He dropped his shoe and groaned in pain. JJ heard him and came over to him. “You ok, Hollander?”
Shane didn’t answer. He held his head in his hands and tried to breathe through the wave of nausea. “Pike! Where you at?” JJ hollered. Hayden came around the corner quickly at the tone of JJ’s voice.
When he saw Shane doubled over he ran to him immediately, squatting down to his level. “Shane, buddy, talk to me, what’s going on?” he said.
Shane only groaned in response. Hayden noticed the way Shane was clutching his head. “Is it your head? Do you have a migraine?” he asked softly, knowing Shane was sensitive to sound when he was like this.
Shane was shivering a little bit now, a symptom he always felt was odd. The pain was unbearable. He used one of his closed fists to hit himself on the side of the head. Hayden was quick to stop him, grabbing his wrist and holding it still. “Hey, none of that,” he said.
“Hurts,” Shane murmured, with a groan, sliding off the bench he was sitting on and sitting on the floor against the lockers. “I want Ilya,” he said.
Hayden knew he was going to need back up. When Shane got like this, Ilya was the only one who could calm him down and soothe him. Plus, there was no way in hell Shane was going to be able to walk out of here on his own.
“Ok, ok,” he said. “I know it hurts, buddy, but try to relax, alright?”
Hayden looked over his shoulder at JJ and the few other guys who were standing there watching. “Someone go get Rozanov, now,” he ordered. JJ nodded his head and took off running.
Shane slammed his head back against the locker then. “Fuck!” Hayden cursed. He grabbed Shane’s head with both of his hands and held it still. “Buddy, you gotta stop. I know it hurts, but slamming your head against the lockers isn’t going to help. We don’t need you getting another concussion,” he said. “Your boyfriend will murder me if I let that happen.”
Shane swatted at Hayden’s hands. “Please let go,” he said. “I will when I know you’re not a danger to yourself. I don’t trust you right now,” Hayden replied. Shane didn’t handle pain well, and had a tendency to get self-destructive in order to cope with it.
“How long have you been hurting?” he asked, trying to distract Shane.
Shane’s eyes stay closed. “Since the last period. Wasn’t that bad though. Thought it would pass. Got worse in the shower,” he said.
“I knew something was wrong out there,” Hayden said.
Shane whimpered then, eyes squeezing shut. “I want Ilya,” he said.
“I know, bud, I’m getting your man for you. He’s on his way, ok?” Hayden said.
He kept his hold on Shane’s head even though Shane fought him, trying to dislodge Hayden’t hands every few seconds. A few short minutes later Hayden could hear running out in the hallway. JJ was back with Rozanov right behind him.
Rozanov kneeled down next to Hayden, right in front of Shane. “Migraine,” Hayden said, turning to him. “I had to hold his head because he’s trying to slam it into the lockers,” Hayden told him.
Ilya nodded and Hayden let go of Shane and got out of his way. “Ilya,” Shane whimpered. Ilya smiled softly at him, brushing his hair out of his face. “Hi, sweetheart, what happened?”
“My head hurts. So bad,” Shane whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to hit his head again. Ilya cupped the back of his head with both hands, holding him still, and looked him over. “Shh, stop, just relax. How long? When did it start?” he asked.
“Last period,” Shane said.
Ilya started going over Shane’s usual triggers in his head, trying to figure out what would’ve brought it on. “You slept last night, did you not have enough water today?” he asked.
“I had plenty,” Shane murmured. Ilya paused, going over the day in his head. He had been out this afternoon running errands and hadn’t seen Shane before the game. “Did you eat lunch?” he asked.
Shane groaned, face looking guilty. Ah, there it was. “Shane…” Ilya started.
“I know, I know,” Shane grumbled. “You know you can’t skip meals, especially on game days. Your body doesn’t like it,” Ilya says, softly.
Shane sighed. “I didn’t have time,” he argued. “We had practice, and then a meeting and then I had to get ready for the game,” he said.
“Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve brought you something. You should’ve at least taken a shake with you,” Ilya said.
Shane shrugged. “I know, I’m sorry. I was just busy and figured I’d be ok until after the game and we could go get dinner.”
“Oh we’re getting dinner, alright,” Ilya said.
Shane slumps forward, letting his head fall onto Ilya’s shoulder. They stay that way for awhile, Ilya rubbing his back and calming him down. Hayden and JJ bring water and snacks and Ilya gets Shane to eat a protein bar.
“Can you sit up?” Ilya asks. Shane nods his head and does, still obviously in pain. “Let’s finish getting you ready and go home and take some meds.”
Shane lets Ilya maneuver him around how he wants, finishing getting his shoes on and getting a hoodie on him and then quickly pulls out his phone and orders dinner to be delivered. He gets Shane to the car with Hayden’s help, who puts his bag in the backseat while Ilya helps him into the car and gets his seatbelt on. They say goodnight to Hayden and Ilya drives them home. Shane leans towards Ilya the whole way there, just wanting to be touching him. Ilya occasionally cups the side of his head when the pain gets unbearable. Shane squeezes his eyes shut and groans.
Ilya gets Shane in the house and settled on the couch and covered up in a blanket. He goes to the bathroom and gets Shane’s migraine medication and some water and watches him take it. Not long after, Ilya gets a notification on his phone and kisses Shane on the forehead. “Be right back, dinner is here,” he says.
He returns a few minutes later with two plates, setting them down on the coffee table in front of them. Shane is curled up in the corner with his eyes closed. Ilya sits down and manhandles him into sitting up, to which Shane protests by swatting at him and groaning. “I just want to sleep,” he grumbles.
“I know, I know, but you need to eat,” Ilya says. Shane makes a disgusted sound of protest. Ilya chuckles but picks up Shane’s plate and swirls his fork, getting a bite of pasta and holding it up to his mouth.
Shane looks at the fork in shock. “Pasta? Ilya, I don’t eat pasta, you-” Ilya cuts him off. “Yes, yes, I know, your diet. You want rabbit food, but your body needs carbs, ok? Trust me.”
Shane glares at him. “One meal with lots of carbs isn’t going to ruin your season, sweetheart. Eat.”
Ilya pushes the fork closer to Shane’s mouth. He hesitates for a moment, but it does smell good, even though his stomach turns a little bit at the sight of the noodles. He slowly opens his mouth and lets Ilya push the fork into his mouth, watching him expectantly. “Chew, swallow, eat,” he says, sounding like a mother, rather than his boyfriend.
Shane does what he’s told and starts chewing. He can’t remember the last time he’s had pasta. Sometime in the offseason, probably. The taste is incredible. Alfredo. One of Ilya’s favorites. Shane can’t help but moan, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the couch. “Mmm.”
Ilya smiles and cups his face. “See? Your body wants carbs. Is ok, just for tonight.”
He feeds Shane a few more bites, enjoying seeing his boyfriend's face of pure joy as he indulges on the buttery carbs. Feeling a bit better, Shane reaches for the plate. “I can do it,” he says. Ilya hands him the plate, still keeping an eye on him, while he reaches for his own plate.
Ilya turns the tv on but mutes it so the sound doesn’t hurt Shane’s head more, and they sit quietly eating their pasta. Shane eats half of his plate before his eyes start closing on their own accord. Ilya sees his head bob out of the corner of his eye and quickly takes the plate from Shane before he can drop it. He gets Shane to eat a few more bites before he shakes his head, indicating he’s done.
Ilya sets their plates down and pulls Shane closer, pushing his head down onto his chest. Shane goes easily, sighing. “How’s your head?” Ilya asks, fingers carding through Shane’s hair. “Hm, much better. Just a dull ache now,” he mumbles. “M’tired,” he says.
Ilya covers him up better with the blanket and goes back to running his fingers through Shane’s hair. “So carbs help, yes?” he asks with a smirk. Shane smacks his chest. “Yes, carbs helped. Shut up.”
“I’m joking, mostly,” Ilya says. “Medicine did most of the work since you’re sleepy now, but carbs helped also, I think.”
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Shane says against Ilya’s chest. Ilya kisses the top of his head. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”